A/N: This was incredibly depressing for me. Leave a review?
"Hey, Richie?"
He did his best to stifle a sob after hearing the small tremble in the girl's voice in front of him, "Yeah?"
Her hazel eyes met his through the mask, watery and pained. She took in a shaky breath and winced as she favored her abdomen. She never once looked away from him. She lifted her trembling hand and pressed it against the glass. She inhaled stiffly again. Her eyebrows scrunched up at the pain, her eyes pleading for a brief respite, "I'm scared."
This couldn't be happening.
The blue eyed hero bit his bottom lip, choking back a pained cry as he tried once again, unsuccessfully, to open the pod she was stuck in. He began to hit the glass with his birdarang and when that failed, he began to punch it. Each hit was accompanied by a scream of frustration, "Just hold on. Superboy's on his way. I'm sure he can punch through this. Just hang on a little longer!"
But she was already shaking her head, "It's too late, Richie."
This wasn't supposed to happen.
He gave another punch, "Don't! Don't tell me that! It can't be...I can't lose..."
More tears dripped from her eyes, "Richie." Her hand moved upward on the glass and leveled with her head.
He stopped his attacks and looked at her, tears beginning to fall from under his mask.
He knew. Oh, he knew alright. But he had wished, hoped, with all his might that he was wrong. But looking at her now, trembling, wide-eyed, bruised and battered; reality was beginning to sink in.
How could this have happened?
The look in her eyes broke his heart. She was already prepared to die.
"Jen...please don't." His hand reached out to take her's, only to be stopped by the cold touch of the glass. "This is all my fault." He leaned his head on top of the pod, his fists clenched so tight they were shaking. He could no longer maintain control of his emotions as he began to rock slightly back and forth, "All my fault."
A small smile broke through her pained face, "That's...so like you."
"I'm so sorry, Jen. I'm so, so sorry."
"Richie."
He looked up at her again. She was smiling at him. Once again he felt his heart break a million times over. How could she smile at him that way? How could she possibly still stand to look at the person who put her in this position?
"I don't blame you. Not one bit."
Instead of feeling relief at her words, all he could feel was anger. He slammed his fists against the pod again, "How can you say that?! I'm the one who allowed this to happen! I'm the one who sealed you to this fate! How can you possibly find it in yourself to forgive me?!"
Her smile turned into a small grin, "Simple. Because I love you."
Whatever he had planned to say left his mind the moment she said it.
She loved him.
Once again, his heart felt like it was being torn apart, "That's not fair, Jen. You can't say that right now. You can't just say that and leave me alone."
A grimace flashed across her features, "I know. But...it's because of this moment that I have to say it...I love you, Richard."
More tears fell from his eyes. He stared at her. He memorized her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, everything, he committed it to memory.
"I love you too, Jen. I'll always love you, no matter what, I will never stop loving you."
Dick's eyes opened slowly.
The same dream again. No, not a dream. A memory. A memory of one of the darkest days in his life.
He let out a deep sigh. There was a time where he would wake up in cold sweat, his eyes scouring his room, searching for the girl he had lost in that nightmare, only to realize that she wasn't there, that she would no longer be there. And once he'd admit that she was gone, his walls would come crumbling down as he lay in a fetal position and cry his pain away.
But those days had long passed. But some days were better than others. On a bad day, he'd probably find himself staring at the ceiling, tears falling silently down the side of his face. He counted himself lucky; today had been a good day. That didn't mean, however, that he was hurting any less.
He turned his head to the right. There, on the nightstand, was a framed picture. He took the frame in his hand and held it over his head.
Jennifer Vance. That was her name.
Her hazel eyes held a mischievous glint and were squinted in laughter. Her long sandy blond hair cascading over her right shoulder. Dick had his arms wrapped around her waist, his head placed snugly on top of her shoulder, their cheeks touching. She had her own hands placed on top of his. They were both smiling.
Dick smiled at the memory of that moment. The picture had been taken on their first year anniversary as a couple. The two were seventeen at that time.
He sighed and looked away from the photo. Who would have known that she wouldn't live to see another year together with him. Or anyone else, for that matter.
He shook his head. He didn't want to focus on that fact right now.
"It takes a lot to remember the good times when so many bad things have happened in your life."
He smiled softly as he remembered her saying those words to him one day when he took her to see his parents grave. She had spoken softly to their gravestones, praising them for how Dick had turned out, telling them that they should be proud of what he'd done with his life.
And suddenly, all of their happier moments together began to flood into his mind. The time when they had admitted to liking each other, the first time they held hands, their first kiss, their first date.
His eyes began to sting as he looked back at the picture. He traced his thumb across her face. He could almost feel the touch of her skin.
"I love you, Richard."
He turned his gaze toward the ceiling, his eyes looking past the roof into an unknown distance. The flow of water began to fall from his eyes. He clutched the frame tightly as he whispered to the heavens, "I love you too, Jen. I always will."
"I don't blame you. Not one bit."
He brought his hand up to wipe away the drying trails from his salted tears. He took another look at the picture and slowly brought it to his lips to her face.
He placed the frame back on the nightstand and stared at her, a small flare dancing across his eyes, "I didn't let it break me, Jen. I won't let it."
"That's...so like you."
He smiled and pulled the covers over himself as he drifted off to sleep.
Many Years Later
This dream felt different than the others. Everything felt far too real. The field, far too old to be remembered so clearly. He looked ahead and noticed a figure on top of a hill. From the size and structure, Dick was sure it was a female. He prepared himself to hobble over to her when he noticed how limber he felt. That was when he took notice of his body. He was in his prime, back when he had barely reached the age of twenty.
He stretched his arms and smirked. It had been ages since he was able to do that without feeling pain shoot throughout his body.
He quickly turned his focus back to the girl on the hill and made his way toward her.
Once he was close enough to make out her features clearly, he felt his breath leave him.
That sandy blond hair was unmistakeable to him.
She turned around slowly, a smile creeping up on her face as she laid her hazel eyes on him.
Warm tears trailed down his eyes. How many times had he dreamed of her eyes, her smile? So beautiful and serene.
Her own eyes watered, but the smile never left her face.
The day he lost her, his whole world had been destroyed. But now he felt that everything was coming back together. He was whole again as he reached his hand toward her.
Her smile widened as she opened her arms and enveloped him in a warm embrace but soon pushed him back a little to hold his face in her hands. She brought their foreheads together and greeted him like she always had.
"Hey, Richie."