It had been 48 hours since the Watchtower nearly fell to Earth.

At least, that's what the clock at his bedside insisted as it pulled him out of a few measly hours of sleep. Two days of fires, system failures, and complete chaos only broken up by the short escapes required for sleep and recharging.

John sat up on the side of his bed and just stayed there.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, in more ways than one. Yes, the Watchtower was standing...barely. It had taken round the clock efforts by himself, Superman, and a number of other heroes who felt completely useless dealing with structural issues while loyal staff literally burned to death within. If it hadn't been to prevent even more casualties, they would have given up on the Tower altogether and ripped it apart themselves. No building was worth human life, but unfortunately it just wasn't that simple.

The Lantern had felt helpless, bitter, and so many other emotions over the past few days. But what worried him the most was his disappointment.

Wally had mentioned Shayera had been hurt during the commotion. How badly, he didn't know, but if it was enough to keep her away for two days….He didn't even want to consider what that meant. But it wasn't her injuries that caused him this feeling, it was the fact that while he hadn't seen Mari at all since their almost wedding, he needed to see Shayera instead.

Desire to see her face, hear her talk, it overwhelmed his senses at every turn. It would happen when he would be sealing holes in the Tower's exterior, and he would need to see that half smile she showed when she landed an unexpected punch. Then again when he stopped flying debris from striking a friend, he would swear he could hear her pleased laughter in his ear. It wasn't like these things were new, as long as they had been friends he felt he carried a piece of her with him. But something had changed when he met Mari's eyes through her veil. He realized that it should be Mari's voice in his head, her smile in his heart, and that felt...unauthentic.

Wrong. It felt worse.

What bothered him was not just that Mari should be the most important person in his life, but that he didn't want her to be.

There. He said it. Mari might have been the right choice, the good and honorable person who should stand by his side, but he didn't want it. Foolish as it was, he wanted to play with fire and get pulled into bar fights. Turns out, Shayera was right.

All this time, he had been trying to avoid getting hurt, but he still was. Only, now it was his fault they were both in pain. Somehow, by trying to protect himself, he had ended up messing them both up, himself and Shayera, and setting Mari up for more heartbreak than he would have experienced otherwise. Now, there was no way out but forward, and much as he dreaded it, he knew what he had to do.

Luckily, with the Watchtower stabilized and the situation on the ground manageable, he could find the time to slip away with Mari and tell her they were through.

God, she deserved better.

In fact, Shayera did too. He would be lucky if she ever took him back, but whether or not she did, he had to try.

John found himself mechanically moving through tasks around his apartment. Take a shower, get dressed, make coffee. He barely felt the water on his back or the clothes slide over his sore muscles. Each action was just something he had to get through until he could end things with Mari and see Shayera once again.

Shayera. Just saying her name made him smile a little.

He was halfway through his coffee when a quiet knock sounded on his door.

For a moment, his heart skipped in hope, but he knew it couldn't be Shayera. Like everything else, she always moved about confidently and full of life. She would have banged on his door with anger or annoyance, if she had bothered to knock at all rather than just barging in. His heart always beat faster when she marched into his apartment and spouted out her thoughts. No, whoever was on the other side was polite, considerate.

Mari. The moment he thought it, he knew it was true. His stomach dropped.

Well, it's now or never.

But no matter how necessary what he planned was, he still hated the idea of causing her such pain. A few moments later, he opened the door to see her mismatched airy sundress and tired expression. She had dressed herself to appear light, sanguine, assured, but he could see from the settle lines of her brow and downturned mouth she was upset.

"Hey," He said simply.

Her brown eyes met his in an unreadable expression, and she walked past him quietly. The tap of her flats against the linoleum was the only sound other than the cars zipping past his windows on their way back from work. He caught the whiff of smoke covered by lavender and vanilla and noticed the traces of dirt around her carefully curved fingernails. Whatever she had been doing the past two days must have drained her nearly as much as his work had him.

John cautiously closed the door and turned to face her, "We should talk."

"That's an understatement." Mari's voice sounded haunted. Bitter even.

John frowned, "What happened?"

Mari let out a breath slowly and turned to face him. She gave him a small shrug and admitted, "I don't know where to start. Um, we almost got married, the Tower was destroyed in spectacular fashion, I stopped half the League from being assassinated, and then somewhere in there I had an epiphany."

John stopped in surprise, "Wait, the League was almost-"

"Mm." She stopped him with a hand in the air and a pained look on her face, "That's not what I want to talk about."

"Okay…" John said slowly as he waited for her to speak again.

For several moments, Mari's eyes roamed from place to place, but he didn't think she really saw anything around her. Her chocolate irises flickered with the sea of thoughts churning in her mind. Then, she shocked him even more when she told him, "I need you to tell me about Rex."

He froze, "What?"

Then, her eyes rose to meet him in silent accusation, "Rex. Who is Rex?"

His brain short circuited and all he could come up with was, "How did you-"

"Does it really matter?"

John crossed his arms, "I suppose not."

Mari raised her brows and waited patiently for him to respond.

Even though it felt like a violation to Shayera, John knew Mari had a right to know. He might know the odds of their future together, but she had always deserved to know the truth.

Dozens of explanations swirled around his mind, but none of them seemed quite right. In the end, John just started talking and hoped that in the end, he could tell her whatever she needed to hear. His voice was scratchy and strained as he began, "About a year ago, Batman and I went to a version of the future to stop Chronos. Wonder Woman went with us as well, but as the mission progressed, things went badly to say the least. Diana disappeared from the future altogether, the timeline kept shifting...we were lucky to get out of there when we did. It was during that trip that we met Rex."

Mari scoffed, "Come on, John. There has to be more to it than that."

"I never said there wasn't."

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she held it together as she shouted, "But you don't want to tell me? Typical, we're supposed to spend the rest of our lives together and you still can't be completely honest with me."

John's expression morphed to one of confusion, "Still can't?"

Mari glared at him and began to pace the back of the living room. Her eyes landed on a framed picture she had taken of them together on one of their getaways. It had been a quick shot of the two of them amongst the trees and flora of whatever landscape she had been posing in. They looked so happy and content in the tropical paradise. She hated that photo. "One issue at a time. What was so important about Rex?"

John watched her carefully as he spoke,"His name was Rex Stewart."

Her entire body went rigid. John could see her shoulders tighten, her eyes widen ever so slightly. After a few beats, her eyes sought him out as she confirmed, "He's your son."

"Yes." John said cautiously.

"And who is his mother?" She asked like she already knew.

A shadow passed over John's face.

Mari nodded to herself and looked disgusted. Anger heated her face, and she shook with the amount of rage built up in her system. The words felt ripped out of her as she yelled, "So you've known all this time? You knew that you were supposed to end up with Shayera, and you what? Kept me on the side because you weren't ready to give up your freedom yet?"

John stepped forward,"No, don't say that!"

"Then what? Don't try to convince me that it was because you love me."

"I do love you, Mari. Maybe not the way I'm supposed to, but don't accuse me of not caring."

"Then why? Tell me the truth!"

John tangled thoughts fought to get out. He spoke quickly and efficiently, begging her with his bright eyes to understand, "I stayed because that timeline was an option, not a prophecy. And a glimpse at a possible reality is not a good enough reason to change the choices someone's already made. I chose you because it was the right thing to do. We're good together, we understand one another. I had made the choice to move on from Shayera long before I chose to be with you."

"Bullshit! You've never moved on from her!"

"Mari-" He took another step forward.

This time, she jumped back and put her hands up. He could see the desperation and fury in her. "No! I'm done with the excuses and the lies. In this situation, you are the one who messed up. You screwed with my head and my life, so now you get to listen."

He stood still as he listened to her speak. Every word was like a punch in the gut, but he couldn't deny any of them. Her words ripped through the air like bullets, "You should have been honest, if not about the future about how you felt. And really there are two explanations, and neither of them is particularly good. Either you don't love her, and you've kept Shayera and I hanging on a string because you love the attention or the power. Which, quite honestly is disgusting, and I don't know how you could possibly stand yourself. Or, what I think is the case, is that you've been in love with her all along and because you're a coward, you stayed with me and kept giving her these little morsels of hope so she would never move on."

"So what are you John? Are you an asshole or a coward?"

He spoke low and pleadingly, "Please, Mari. I'm sorry."

She slapped him.

"You don't even know what those words mean."

"Then let me explain to you. Please, give me one moment." He begged.

Mari made no move to flee, so he took it as permission. John strode across the room, needing the space to breath as he spoke, "You're right. I've been in love with Shayera since...well, I'm not sure I ever stopped after she left. But it wasn't until this Winter that I realized that, and I fought it for months because I didn't want to hurt you or myself.

"But I was wrong. When you love someone it doesn't matter if it's good or bad for you. You have to see it through in some way, and I should have ended things with you. I owed you the truth so that you could make your own choice. I acknowledge that I have cost you time, pride, pain, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart that I am unendingly and unceasingly sorry."

Nothing.

It was silent between the two of them as John stared at Mari's back. She stood tall, strong, but he could feel the defeat in her quiet, the sadness in her presence. The only movement was the settle tightening of her fists, which either meant she was preparing to hit him or trying to stop herself from moving. Whatever she needed, he understood.

It was a long time before she spoke. When she did, Mari's voice was low and angry, "Rex wasn't a possibility. He's real."

John's heart skipped a beat, "What?"

Mari still didn't turn to face him, "I spoke with Bruce. Shayera left the League when she found out she was pregnant."

And suddenly it all made sense. Shayera would never leave the League for anything less than someone she loved. That was why John had always regretted telling Shayera about the future because somehow, though she had never met Warhawk, she loved him with a sureness that scared even John. Of course she would leave for Rex. Shayera would do anything for him.

Shayera would die if it meant Rex could be happy.

"I have to go." His voice sounded disconnected, even to himself.

Without another word, John swept out of the room, and left Mari where she had been afraid to end up this whole time. Alone.

There she was, standing amongst his things - the lap with the broken shade that he had never replaced, his tattered paperbacks with receipts marking the pages, the chipped plates and warm neutral colors of his furniture. And she felt forgotten. She felt like one of those coins that fell into the couch and sat there for years collecting dust. Perhaps even a sock pushed under the bed, unnoticed until years later when it had outgrown its use.

At first, she didn't realize she had begun crying. The cool, salty tears ran down her face and dripped from the edges of her sharp, pronounced features. There was sadness on the surface, but beneath that, there was...nothing.

Mari felt numb, confused. Shayera would soon have John, and John would soon have a family. And she would have nothing. It would be hours later that she would find herself back at a bar in Prague, meeting with the same musician, though it didn't really matter to her who it was. She just needed a body, a bottle of vodka, anything that could drown out the pain. For a bit, she would allow herself to drown out her feelings in meaningless sex, maybe even a few pills here and there slipped to her at raves in Madrid and Rome. She was fine with being a mess for a while.

But she knew she would come out of this. She deserved better, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let someone like John Stewart break her.