It was late at night, far later than he expected to get back, keys jingled in his hands as he opened the door and shut it, dropping the keys on the coffee table full of newspaper clippings and half finished cups of cold coffee and slipped off the shoes he wore, adding the socks as well and kicked them as he passed the small kitchen to his room.
It was a long tiresome day. A shower might help him. Once he entered the room he almost passed the picture frame on the dresser, stopping himself and turning his head.
He looked at the picture. Not the picture he carried around always, no. A more special picture than that. One that pained him to see day in and day out of the rest he had laying about.
Smiles were on everyone's faces, ranging from small to almost splitting faces in two with how large they were.
In the left side of the picture was Conner's face was just barely making it into frame, just leaning himself in with a green arm wrapped around his shoulder that connected to the familiar Martian, Megan. Her face was glowing as her other arm wrapped around the blonde archer's shoulder that was leaning towards her boyfriend.
His best friend.
The taller out of all of them in the middle was Kaldur, of whom held a good inch and a half over Wally, the sincere warm smile on his face and shining through his eyes.
Then there was him. His smile along with Wally's were by far the biggest, his arm was wrapped around both Zatanna and Kaldur's shoulder, having to lean over as his growth spurt hadn't kicked in yet with Raquel resting her chin on the Atlantean's unoccupied shoulder.
It was a nice happy day. They all went out to go relax the day after a mission and be at peace and laugh, make jokes.
He remembered everything so clearly.
And then it all fell apart underneath them. People died, people left and the pieces were still on the ground, never to be picked up until this war was all over.
He ripped his eyes away from the picture, the pricking sensation of tears lining his eyes.
He pulled off the top and tossed it down before adding the bottoms to the collection and making his way over to the bathroom, flicking the light on and winced at the sterile color of white that blinded him, though half the wall was painted a light sky blue.
He quit trying to cover the white after everything went to hell.
'I'll do it when I'm not busy.' He always said to himself on stressful nights that involve hair pulling, teeth grinding and mental anguish along with self-loathing on more times than not.
His feet sluggishly crossed the room and turned on the shower, setting it to scorching hot and removed the last of his clothing before stepping in, skin turning red upon contact.
"I'll do it when this is all over." He promised himself as he reached for the soap to clense his body of the filth of the day. But even he knew that the brush wouldn't paint sky blue anymore, only a dark murky grey.