Title: I can still feel you.

Word count: 660

Rating: T

Characters: Artemis Crock, Wally West, Dick Grayson.

Summary: This had be some kind of mistake, she had seen him mere hours ago; this morning in fact, he had come up behind her as she was putting the dishes in the dishwasher and he had squeezed her middle and kissed her cheek.

Note: I'm not really sure where this came from but here it is.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters or plot, they belong to DC. The lyrics in italics belong to 'Lady Antebellum'.


For me you'll always be eighteen and beautiful,

And dancing away with my heart.


Thick clouds had moved across the sky blocking out the sun so the light has become grey, forming long panels on the floor in front of her. The world has seemed to have gone very quiet all of a sudden, the colours a little less bright and her body seems very stiff and numb like it isn't hers, like it doesn't belong to her anymore. The couch shifts underneath her but she can't tear her eyes away from that shaft of grey light.

"Artemis."

A voice quiet enough not to shatter the emptiness, a warm hand on her shoulder giving a gentle squeeze but there is wrongness to it, not the hand that should be there. She blinks slowly to bring herself back to the harsh reality she had learnt to accept in her youth, but this, this is too cruel. She turns her head to look into blue.

"Yes?"

Her voice catches somewhere around her Adam's apple so the word comes out softer and more vulnerable than she would have liked, but he doesn't comment.

"If there is anything you need me to do, I'm here okay? Nothing is too big or too small. I'm here for you. For you all."

Oh god, all. She isn't the only one that has lost him.

"Thank-you. But what I need right now is, is to process this."

He nods slowly and then stands.

"Okay, I'll show myself out."

She keeps herself frozen until she hears his footsteps fade down the hallway and the front door opens and shuts before she wraps her arms around herself and bites down on her lip to keep in the sobs that threaten to sweep through her body. This had be some kind of mistake, she had seen him mere hours ago this morning in fact, he had come up behind her as she was putting the dishes in the dishwasher that the kids refused to put in themselves before leaving for the bus, and he had squeezed her middle and kissed her cheek. She had elbowed him in the stomach and laughed at his pained expression even though they both knew she hadn't hurt him.

Her hands shake as she raked them through her hair, ignoring the way her ring catches the dull light spilling in from the window and digs her nails into her scalp, jerking herself to her feet and starting to pace across the floorboards because she has no idea what else to do, how else to deal with this, she had never been taught to mourn as a child and as an adult she has never had to accept the death of someone who had such a pivotal role in her life.

Twenty years, the thought stops her in the middle of the room; they have been by each other's side for twenty years. The only time they had truly been apart is for the three months that she had spent undercover as Tigress but now she would be without him for maybe years. Twenty years ago they had met on a warm August afternoon, him late and tripping over his feet and her insecure with a snarky comment on her tongue.

Seventeen years ago they had been young and in love and moving in together throwing globs of paint at each other as they attempted to paint their newly rented apartment and it had been theirs and he had looked beautiful and unforgettable with pale green paint through his hair and smeared across his face and a grin so bright and happy. It is an image that has been burnt into her mind ever since and her heart still speeds up at the thought but now it only brought pain like red hot needles along every nerve and bone.

Twelve years ago they had married in a small ceremony insisted upon by every person they knew, no eloping for them. Eleven years ago they had brought their son home for the first time. So many memories together, so much time but nowhere near enough. One hand drops to her side and the other rakes down her throat in hopes to shift the pain to another type before releasing a frustrated growl, ignoring the fact that it actually sounded more like an angry sob.


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