"…Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"

"I'm sorry…"

"It'll be all right."

This and other buzzwords drifted in one ear and out the other of one Victor Stone. They meant nothing to him as he stood over the burial site of his mother.

The only words he was concerned with right now were the ones carved on the headstone:

Elinore Stone

Brilliant, Driven, Determined

Loved

He didn't know how long he would've stood there until he felt a hand on his shoulder: "Son, we should get a move on. It's getting late and I might be expecting some company tonight."

"Of course, Dad. I wouldn't want grieving over the love of your life to get in the way of your work." Victor spat out, his voice full of venom.

"You think this is easy for me?! I'm trying not to shut down without your mother here! There's nothing else I can do for her now but keep on living."

Jerking his shoulder away, he replied, "You do that, Dad." He turned and began to walk towards the graveyard entrance.

"And where the hell are you going?!"

Not turning back, Victor replied, "I'll find my own way back. You just keep on living, Dad." He answered with disgust.

Silas Stone sighed and gave his wife's grave one last mournful look before heading for his car.

In the glare of the setting sun, Victor Stone could be found sullenly skipping rocks on the shoreline of Jump City Bay.

Leave it to Dad to not let a little thing like grief stop him from staring down a microscope. Some days, I can't believe I'm related to that bastard.

His thoughts were broken by a feather-light touch on his shoulder.

He looked up to meet the sympathetic eyes of Marcy Reynolds. She was a dark-skinned vision with full lips, curly hair, and hazel eyes that melted him every time.

"Babe, you all right? You've been zoned out all day."

"Yeah, I just…" Victor swallowed hard, trying to tamp down his emotions. "…I miss her, y'know?"

Marcy cupped his cheek and gave it a peck. "Yeah. I know."

He sighed and sat down on a boulder and she sank down with him.

"So what were you thinking about?" She prompted after a long silence.

"The fact that she's gone." His lip curled as if he'd tasted something sour. "And that I'm left with the emotionless void known as Silas Stone."

"Vic, you know she would want you guys to get along without her. If anything, this should make you guys closer."

"Yeah. Emphasis on 'should.' I guess I should be grateful he hasn't drowned me in clichés like everyone else but it'd be nice if he even pretended to reassure me."

"He's probably tied up in his own grief. Give him time."

"He's had over 10 years to take an interest in me." Victor retorted hotly. "But you're right, Mar. Maybe I'm being a little impatient." He scowled, bitterness dripping from him in waves.

"Hey, don't take your bad blood with your dad out on me." She retorted, standing up heatedly. "I was only 'pretending to reassure you'."

He grabbed her hands and gently tugged her back down beside him. "You're right, Marcy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. Guess I just needed someone to vent to."

"If that's not a cry for help, I don't know what is." A new voice rang out.

The couple looked behind them to find their friend Ron Evers emerging from the park. A similarly buff dark-skinned man with low-cut hair and studs in each air.

"Don't worry, pal. Your best friend is here. Vent away, bro." He smiled, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Y'know what? I don't even wanna talk about it anymore. I'm done letting my dad dictate my emotional state. I just wanna hang out with my two favorite people in the world and try to take my mind off all this."

"Sounds like a plan, dude." Ron grinned. "You wanna hit up Payton's for some grub?"

"Sure. Long as you're buying."

"Don't push it, Vic-tory."

"C'mon, knuckleheads. I'm starving." Marcy prompted, already making her way to the park entrance.

The two boys trailed behind her as Ron continued quietly, "Seriously, though, man. I'm here for you. I'll miss your Moms too. She probably did more for me than my own did. And don't sweat your Pops. You got me and you got Mar. Who else you need?"

Victor smiled, thinking of their football team's pregame chant. "We all we got…"

"…We all we need." Ron responded, dapping up his friend.

Payton's Grill 'N Chill

Payton's was an intimate diner where everybody in the neighborhood was able relax and unwind over an unhealthy amount of BBQ. The three friends had frequented the joint since before they could remember and walking through the doors never ceased to feel like home. The owner had a large hand in the cozy atmosphere, a man named Khary. He was a bearded bald man, only slightly rotund, with a smile that could light up a room. His apron was stained with grease like usual and he smelled of grease and charcoal as he always had. He was so busy wiping down tables that he hadn't even noticed the trio of teens coming his direction.

"Khary, hey!" Marcy called out, grabbing his attention.

"Marcy! Good to see you, girl." The owner called out, stepping from behind the counter to embrace her.

Looking behind her, his grin widened. "And my two favorite boys. Mega-Ron and Vic-tory Stone!"

The man wrapped his arms around their shoulders, guiding them to their favorite booth in the restaurant.

"I'm guessing you'll all have the usual?"

"We become that predictable, huh, Mr. P?" Ron smirked.

"Well, when you order the same things since you were 8 years old, it tends to stick. Be right back." Cupping his hands in the direction of the kitchen, he called back to his staff. "BUMPER, ZENO, RAY! Rev up those fryers! Our favorite customers are hungry and ready to eat!"

Satisfied with their muffled responses, Khary nodded and then sat down with his patrons. "So, Vic, uh…how you holdin' up?"

Victor's face darkened as his bad mood threatened to resurface. "As well as I can, I guess. The doctors called it CFS. They're not entirely sure what caused it. they said it could've been anything. Environmental factors, genetics, stress…"

"Hey." The restauranteur spoke out. "I know that look, Victor. Don't go blaming yourself."

"I don't. At least, I try not to. Part of me feels like Dad had a hand in it too. He's not exactly the easiest guy to work with. Always demanding, pushing. I'd hate to think what that did to her."

Before he could pursue that line of thinking any further, their food was brought to their table.

"Well, eat up and cheer up, kid." Khary implored him. "And don't worry about paying. It's on the house."

"Khary…" Victor interjected.

"Uh-uh. It's free of charge and that's final. It's the least I can do."

"Thanks, man. For all you've done for me."

"Well, I can't do my favorite customers dirty, now can I? I'll be in the back in case you guys need me."

30 minutes later

"Thanks, guys. You helped me more than you know."

"What else are we here for?" Ron enveloped his best friend in a bro hug. "Night, man. Text me when you get home safe."

"Will do."

"Alright, Marcy." Ron nodded at the girl.

"Night, Ron." She called as he walked into the night.

"Walk me to the bus stop?" Marcy prompted, grabbing hold of Victor's arm.

"Sure." He smiled down at her fondly.

As they began their trek, Marcy continued, "You know, when the three of us are together at college in the fall, all of this is gonna feel like a distant memory. I'll miss it."

"Yeah. Me too. But hey, we'll all be together. That's what matters. I'm just glad she saw me graduate before…" He trailed off, his voice growing thick with emotion.

She stopped walking and in doing so, made him do the same.

She reached up to cup his face and spoke gently, "You know she's proud of you. And so am I."

He didn't know how to voice the love he had for in that moment but he hoped the kiss he leaned down and gave her said enough. "Thanks, Mar."

20 minutes later

"Alright, babe, here comes my bus. You sure you'll be all right?"

"Yeah." Victor smiled. "You've got a bus to catch. I'll see you tomorrow."

Even after she boarded, they kept eye contact until her bus was out of sight.

Sighing, he began the lonely trek home.

Stone residence

Victor lay wide awake on his bed, hands over his face. With the turmoil brewing inside him, sleep was hard to come by.

He heard the front door open and his father's voice rang out, "Victor? Son, you here?"

When his son gave no answer, Silas sighed. "I can see your shoes outside the door. Look, are you coming out or what? I just wanted to know if you wanted to…I don't know, talk?"

Sighing in frustration, the doctor retreated into his office and slammed the door.

Mirroring his father's agitation, Victor frowned and finally fell into a troubled slumber.

"Victor…honey, can you hear me?"

"I fell asleep? Aw, Mom, I'm sorry. Practice ran a little long today and…"

"It's all right." She laughed. "It's been a while since I've seen you sleep. You run around so much, you're beginning to remind me of your father."

"Great." He muttered apathetically.

"Victor, we've talked about this. Your father isn't the monster you make him out to be and you aren't the unfocused slob he thinks you can be."

"I know, Mom, but…at least you take an interest in my football career. Coach says I have a real shot at going pro."

"You can do anything you set your mind to. Whether it's science or football. You're incredible at both."

"I just wish he could see that. Or at least respect my choice, whatever it is. I'm getting tired of his 'subtle' hints at what he thinks is best for me. Football's my thing. I've built my own rep without the shadows of Silas and Elinore Stone over my head." He paused sheepishly. "No offense."

"None taken. Believe it or not, I know what it's like to live in your parents' shadow."

"But Grandma and Grandpa were playwrights…right?"

"They were." She affirmed. "But the stage never interested me. Computers and robotics were my 'thing' and your grandparents thought it was impossible for someone like me to break through in that field."

"Someone like…? Oh. You mean being a woman?"

"Among other things. Coming from a small town. Being black. Inexperienced."

"So what'd you do?"

"I realized I had to go my own way. As much as I love my parents, I knew if I stayed with them my dreams would have died a slow and painful death. Settling for less would have been the easy thing to do. Maybe even the smart thing. But ever since I pursued that degree, I've never thought it was the wrong move. There were times I wanted to quit and run back home with my tail between my legs. But if I did that, I didn't know if I'd ever get another try. As fate would have it, I met a handsome young man who was studying in my field."

Victor smiled, being able to guess where the story went from here.

"And ever since I agreed to go on a date with him, I've never felt that was the wrong move, either. After all, if I hadn't made that choice, I never would've had you."

Fighting back the lump in his throat, her son replied, "And I'm so glad I have you. So please don't go. Keep fighting."

"I'll do all I can, Victor. But if I don't…" She halted, blinking back tears of her own.

"Mom, don't talk like that. You're not going anywhere."

"Just hear me out, baby. When I'm gone, I need you and your father to stay together. I don't want you two to grieve alone. Promise me you'll work it out."

"Mom, I…"

The pleading look in her eyes said more than words could.

"I promise."

CRACK!

Victor's eyes snapped open. The torrential downpour outside made the world outside look like a formless chasm waiting to swallow him up.

Drawing his knees up to his bare chest, Victor let out shuddery breaths that eventually turned to quiet sobs.

He didn't know how he was going to be able to keep it together without his mother being the buffer between he and his father.

But he knew he owed it to her to try.

Reaching to his nightstand, he flicked on his lamp and looked at a family photo taken in simpler times. Before the arguments. Before the tension. Before his mom was gone.

Still, if there was any hope of bringing back the smiling Silas Stone grinning back at him from the photo, Victor was willing to give it a shot.

"Dad?" Victor called out, padding down the hall towards his father's study.

A voice that definitely wasn't his father was speaking: "…yes, the technology you gave us to deal with the Kaznian rebels worked exceptionally well. However, the progress report isn't the only reason I dropped by. I have to ask…how are things progressing with Project: Cyborg?"

"Look, Mr., ah…"

"Darhk. Damien Darhk."

"Right. This really isn't a good time. I just buried my wife today and my son-"

"Is the least of your worries, Dr. Stone. You know who I work with. And I can tell you from personal experience that he is not a very patient man. The devastation your devices have enabled us to wreak in Qurac and Bialya is nothing short of extraordinary. But you promised us they were placeholders for what we really want."

"It's still experimental. It wouldn't be safe for whoever the test subject would be."

"Safety is not one of my concerns, Doctor. Our organization has scores of worker-bees willing to lay down their lives for our cause. I want to see results, progress. We're getting a little restless. I understand these things take time but…you don't have forever. Just keep that in mind."

Silas had to hold back a shudder as Darhk patted his shoulder and made to go.

Seeing a shadow outside the doorway gave him pause.

Turning back to the scientist, he added, "And another thing to keep in mind: I don't like eavesdroppers. It's just plain rude."

Realizing he was discovered, Victor ran, snatching his father's car keys on his way out the door.

As he peeled out of the driveway, he faintly heard his father's voice calling, "VICTOR! Wait!"

Damn, damn, damn. Victor thought to himself, flying down the road with no particular destination in mind. When Dad said he had company, I didn't know he meant psycho terrorist company. Mom would never be involved in something like this.

Before he knew it, Victor was on the freeway overlooked by the mountains. Making twists and turns was tricky on this stretch of road, especially going uphill in the pounding rain when he could barely think straight.

When the road leveled out, he caught a glimpse of a crack of lightning flashing over the ocean to his left. But he had bigger issues at the moment than inclement weather.

Whoever that 'dark' guy was, he was a total creep. Victor didn't even want to know who he worked for. Just how deep into this was his father? He knew Silas liked to keep his secrets but he never would've imagined he'd be involved in anything criminal.

Despite the flood of new information, Victor's adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off. He let out a yawn and when his vision readjusted, he realized he had begun veering towards the middle of the road. Shaking out the cobwebs, Victor made to get to the right side of the road when he heard a sputtering sound. With a final gasp, the car died.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Victor groaned, slamming his head on the steering wheel. "This can't be happening."

For all the times his father had nagged him about it, the man himself had apparently forgotten to put gas into his own vehicle.

With a growl, Victor jumped out of the car. He crossed the median to the railing overlooking the coastline, defiantly glaring into the storm.

Naturally, he'd neglected to bring a hoodie with him, so he was freezing in sweats and a beater.

Tired, stressed, and hurt beyond belief, Victor began punching the railing until his knuckles started to bruise. With a final roar and a kick, he stalked back to the car and plopped inside, his face in his hands.

A vibration from his pocket gave him pause. Leering down at it, he recognized the caller ID: Dad.

Victor wanted to crush his phone into pieces before stopping himself. Sighing, he begrudgingly lifted his finger to hit the answer button when a bright light blinded him.

To his horror, Victor realized a semi-truck was barreling toward him and he and his vehicle were smack-dab in the middle of the road.

With a cry of alarm, he dove into the backseat and covered his head.

If pressed for an answer, Victor could never truly recount what happened next. All he could remember was the horrible screeching of metal and the pain that set his world ablaze.

Later, The reports would say the accident became a major pile-up. A fuel tank had been ruptured. There was a fireball. 6 hospitalized. 4 dead, including the unfortunate young man in the middle of the road. Or so it seemed…

3 weeks later

"Victor? Son? Can you hear me?"

With a grunt, he cracked an eye open.

Victor. Yeah, that was his name. All he could seem to remember was pain. Flashes came back rapidly. A stormy night. A truck coming his way. A gurney. Blood. So much blood. Worried voices.

"How are you feeling?" His father's voice broke his train of thought.

"Like I got hit by a truck." Victor muttered, closing his eye again.

"That's to be expected." His father answered, his voice shaking. "Considering you were."

"How long have I been out?"

"A few weeks."

"Are…" He struggled to sit up, his limbs unexpectedly clunky and heavy. "…Mar and Ron coming?"

"Victor, I think you should rest a while longer. There's something I have to tell you…"

"What, you and your buddy Damien going on a cruise?"

"Victor, hush up about that." His father hissed sharply.

"WHY?!" Victor exploded, before regretting it as the effort worsened his headache. Quietly, he continued, "For all your faults, I never imagined you were a criminal."

"I'm not." His father retorted defensively. "Look, that's not important right now. You really need to know something."

"That my father's a liar and a weapons dealer? I think I put the pieces together, Dad."

"Damn it, Victor, listen to me!"

"I'm tired of listening to you! I'm sick of you telling me what to do!" Opening his eyes, Victor was surprised to find his vision tinged with red. Shrugging it off, he pushed himself up to observe his surroundings.

To his surprise, he wasn't in a hospital. He was surrounded by S.T.A.R. Labs equipment and hardware that he'd been familiar with his whole life.

"You brought me to the lab?! What am I, a science project?"

"Son, please…"

"What, Dad?!"

Sighing, his father reluctantly pulled a mirror from his workstation and held it up to his face.

At first, Victor couldn't even comprehend that he was looking at himself. And once he did, he immediately regretted it.

Silas Stone's expression wrenched with pain as his son's wail of anguish echoed through S.T.A.R. Labs and to the depths of his very soul.