"The Cave is-was just a place! Worth sacrificing if it's to help stop the Invasion." Over and over Dick's own words played through his mind. He tried listening to music while looking over scattered college work. The words were still there. He picked up his phone and had a long conversation with Tim about the consequences of hacking his computer. The words came right back the moment he put down the phone. The rest of the day was a fight to quiet his mind with tasks. There was no relief.
Sullen, angry, and irritated beyond belief, he gripped his head. "IT WAS JUST A PLACE." There was silence and he let out a deep breath. His eyes darted about the room, trying to figure out what was next on his task list when his eyes fell upon a certain picture frame that had fallen over. He walked over to pick it up, freezing when finally the next part of the conversation came to mind. "Look, I'm sorry you lost all your souvenirs!"
Gingerly he lifted the frame off the floor. He and Wally. The first week they met. Dick stared.
A few hours later found him pulling up to a memorial site. He slung a bulging duffel bag over his shoulders and walked up, maneuvering his way through memorial stones. It was daybreak. He wasn't tired. Very carefully he began to arrange various objects around a grave. A half-charred medical backpack. A sippy-cup he'd done his best to find a replica of. A tracer. A red beret picked up from a 24-hour Wal-Mart. An arrow borrowed (stolen) from a friend. Memories flooded back as he placed them.
Some items were simply irreplaceable. But he had to try. He placed a hand on the tombstone. An ache in his heart manifested itself until it took all his willpower not to break into choked sobs. "I'm sorry…. I'm so sorry. I'm…." He was sorry he let him go. He was sorry he let it come to this. He was sorry he never truly got to apologize. He was sorry he'd lost all their souvenirs.