Tears poured down my face the day I realized that I had lost my only connection to reality, the one thing that brought me back down to earth. Sure, I had friends at the time, but in reality, I felt out of sync with them. In truth, I felt out of sync with life.
I marched to the beat of a different drum, a beat I had spent my 16 years of life editing, revising, and improving. I made myself who I wanted to be, with the influence of one person. I made my life the way I wanted it to be, with the influence of that same person, but now I had lost him, the one person who had helped make my life that way, who shaped me.
He loved me with all his heart, as I did him, but apparently that wasn't enough for my friends. They turned on me, made me a social outcast. He told me to leave him, so that my life wouldn't be messed up. He told me that I needed to be with people that hadn't messed up, people that had pure hearts and flawless pasts.
The sad thing is, I let him go without a fight. I gave up too easily, blinded by the false promise of a secure life.
Then, my friends learned I was still in love with him, and kicked me out of the Tower. I lived on the streets for a few weeks, before hopping on a train headed for Gotham, headed for home.
As soon as I walked through the door of Wayne Manor, I was sent back the way I had come. Bruce hated me, and wanted nothing to do with me.
Then I had to live on the streets of Gotham, susceptible to all kinds of crimes. Luckily, I was able to fend for myself, but I left more than a few people with broken arms or legs.
I then went back to Jump, to the warehouse we had been in during my apprenticeship with him. I had hoped he would be there, so that I could beg for forgiveness. I winced every time I thought of the insults I had shouted at him, words that I knew he would think were true.
He wasn't there, but I stayed anyway. Today is my 6th day here, and I am starving. I am going to change, then get some food.
-1 ½ hours later-
I heard his voice the moment I walked in through the door of the warehouse. His melodic tenor echoed through the warehouse, each word magnified a thousand times by the emptiness.
It's just my imagination, I thought to myself. I repeated the mantra, trying very hard not to get my hopes up, and then be disappointed.
But he was there, sitting on the floor of the ops center, with his back to me. His voice was even louder now, and the echoes seemed to be greater than before.
"Why? Why me? Why was she the one that I fell in love with? I'm a criminal! She'd never feel the same way. It was just infatuation, a silly little crush. She even left to prove that she didn't love me. She probably left for Gotham. Probably went back home. Maybe she has a boyfriend there. Whatever the case, I'm not going after her. It will just hurt me more."
I was floored. He was in love with me, and now he was doubting whether I loved him or not. He had never been angry at me, just upset with himself.
I walked up behind him silently, to see what he was looking at. It was a picture of us, when I was 10. It was the first time I had seen him in 2 years, and I had run up and jumped on him. His arms were around my waist, and both of us wore huge smiles.
"I still love you. I always have. That was my promise to you when I was 10. I never break a promise." I spoke the words softly, but I still startled him. He jumped up, spun around, and almost ran into me.
"You do?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I'm a horrible person."
"No, you're not. You gave up being with me just so that I would have a better life. If anything, I'm the horrible person. I let go. I didn't even try to fight my friends. I don't see how you could love me after that."
"Because I knew that you wouldn't break a promise. But then I realized that you were only ten. Even geniuses make mistakes sometimes."
"Well, that wasn't a mistake. Falling in love with you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, Slade."
"I love you, too, Rebecca."
He pressed his lips to mine in a passionate, but loving and gentle, kiss, then pulled away and wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder, and we stayed that way for a long time.