Ashes, Ashes
A/N: I've been busy lately, not to mention in a bit of a rut. Well, I'm back, with a story as depressing as I can manage to match my mood! Heehee! Takes place in the same universe as 'The Months'. Hey guys, I need a name for that universe, leave suggestions in comments, and if I choose yours you'll live in infamy forever and ever. Also, if I get the winning suggestion soon, you'll get a cameo appearance as one of the Justice Leaguer's kid! Warnings: The usual.
Part: 1/9
Prologue: Ring Around the Rosy
"We were friends once, remember?" The words came out sharper than he'd intended, the full weight of ten years of guilt making his voice sharp, strained. He saw their effect immediately, watching with tired green eyes as the tall thin man standing not two feet away from him tensed, every muscle in his body bunching suddenly.
"Friends..." the tall thin man snorted, and his breath formed a heavy cloud in the cold air. His lips curled upwards in what might have passed for a smile if not for the way his bottom lip was quivering. "Friends don't kill each other's wives, John."
John flinched from the ice in the other man's voice, the barely contained anger that he had last heard years ago, last time the two of them had spoken. He wanted to reach out to the other man. "Please, Fla-"
Jay turned on him with the lightening speed that was no longer his and his alone, his green eyes hard as flint, his hands curled into fists. " Flash? You dare to come here and call me that?" the bitter laughter that escaped from Jay's mouth cut into John, tore in and twisted. "Flash died ten years ago, friend," he spat the last word out like a curse.
And Jay was right, of course. The man that stood before him, coiled like a tight spring, his face lined with age and sadness, his hair graying at the temples...was not the Flash he had known. That Flash had been easy-going, almost perpetually happy-go-lucky, and that Flash had always worn red. Jay was wearing all black.
"Jay, then, listen-"
The sneer on Jay's face was gone so quickly it might never have been there in the first place. "What do you want to tell me? How you could have grabbed her, but you thought she'd be alright on her own, with half of her right wing gone? How you could have looked for her body, so I could bury my wife, but you thought getting the monsters that killed her to the hospital was more important? How you would have loved to have given me time to grieve, but the Justice League needed Flash, so you thought that it would be best if I just dealt with it?"
With each word Jay grew louder and louder, till he was almost screaming, his body shaking from repressed rage and suppressed tears. For the first time in the evening there was a flush of color in Jay's pale face, and instead of careful blankness there was rage swimming in his eyes.
"You took almost everything that I loved away from me, left her to die a painful death and then told me to bury my grief!" his breath was coming in short, quick bursts, and his fists were so tight that John imaged he could see blood slipping threw the cracks between his fingers.
For a moment John was silent, hoping that the atmosphere of barely bridled hatred would ease. It didn't. Reluctantly he spoke again, his heart hammering, from nervousness or fear he couldn't tell. He couldn't help but notice the lines that ran through Jay's sharp face, which had lost any semblance of fat that it once had, and was now all sharp angles. Had so much time really passed?
"Please, Jay, I just wanted...needed..." the words were caught in his throat, and the look of blistering hatred on Jay's face was not helping any.
"What? Redemption? Forgiveness?" Jay left out another sharp bark of laughter, and turned back to the gravestone, his shoulders sagging just slightly. The movement slightly eased the sharp angles of his body, but not by much. John couldn't find his voice, and Jay didn't speak again for a long, thick moment. "My baby girl's only memory of her mother is the smell of that goddamn strawberry shampoo she liked so much."
Jay's voice was soft and rough, the sound of tears. His shoulders shook, and John felt, not for the first time, a sharp biting pain in his chest.
"She's thirteen..." John could barely hear him, and found the knife in his heart twisting deeper and crueler. "She has her mother's hair, and attitude. She's gotten into a dozen fistfights in the last month." There was a hint of pride in his voice, more than a hint actually; his voice was thoroughly saturated with it. John thought he caught a hint of a smile on the other man's face.
"And she'll be getting off school in about two minutes so I'll be leaving." Without another word Jay darted off, only to reappear a second later, his face less than an inch away from John's, his face a mask of hatred. "Don't ever come here again, your presence is a disgrace on her memory. Leave me alone, and if I find out you've so much as looked at my daughter..." the threat was left hanging, and before John could swallow the lump in his throat Jay was gone.
John sank to his knees, the soft black earth staining his beige suit. He could feel tears burning in the corners of his eyes, and stuck one hand out, desperately searching for something to support himself on. His fingers found cool stone, and his eyes snapped open even as his head snapped to the side so that he could read the inscription his fingers were tracing over.
SHAYERA HUL-GARRICK BELOVED WIFE OF JAY GARRICK LOVING MOTHER OF IRIS GARRICK DEFENDER AND FRIEND LOST TO THE EVILS SHE FOUGHT
Tears poured down John's face. Yes, he had wanted forgiveness desperately, but even more than that, he had news that Jay needed to hear. He would have to face Jay again, and most likely also his daughter. The tears gave way to broken sobs.
A/N: I've been busy lately, not to mention in a bit of a rut. Well, I'm back, with a story as depressing as I can manage to match my mood! Heehee! Takes place in the same universe as 'The Months'. Hey guys, I need a name for that universe, leave suggestions in comments, and if I choose yours you'll live in infamy forever and ever. Also, if I get the winning suggestion soon, you'll get a cameo appearance as one of the Justice Leaguer's kid! Warnings: The usual.
Part: 1/9
Prologue: Ring Around the Rosy
"We were friends once, remember?" The words came out sharper than he'd intended, the full weight of ten years of guilt making his voice sharp, strained. He saw their effect immediately, watching with tired green eyes as the tall thin man standing not two feet away from him tensed, every muscle in his body bunching suddenly.
"Friends..." the tall thin man snorted, and his breath formed a heavy cloud in the cold air. His lips curled upwards in what might have passed for a smile if not for the way his bottom lip was quivering. "Friends don't kill each other's wives, John."
John flinched from the ice in the other man's voice, the barely contained anger that he had last heard years ago, last time the two of them had spoken. He wanted to reach out to the other man. "Please, Fla-"
Jay turned on him with the lightening speed that was no longer his and his alone, his green eyes hard as flint, his hands curled into fists. " Flash? You dare to come here and call me that?" the bitter laughter that escaped from Jay's mouth cut into John, tore in and twisted. "Flash died ten years ago, friend," he spat the last word out like a curse.
And Jay was right, of course. The man that stood before him, coiled like a tight spring, his face lined with age and sadness, his hair graying at the temples...was not the Flash he had known. That Flash had been easy-going, almost perpetually happy-go-lucky, and that Flash had always worn red. Jay was wearing all black.
"Jay, then, listen-"
The sneer on Jay's face was gone so quickly it might never have been there in the first place. "What do you want to tell me? How you could have grabbed her, but you thought she'd be alright on her own, with half of her right wing gone? How you could have looked for her body, so I could bury my wife, but you thought getting the monsters that killed her to the hospital was more important? How you would have loved to have given me time to grieve, but the Justice League needed Flash, so you thought that it would be best if I just dealt with it?"
With each word Jay grew louder and louder, till he was almost screaming, his body shaking from repressed rage and suppressed tears. For the first time in the evening there was a flush of color in Jay's pale face, and instead of careful blankness there was rage swimming in his eyes.
"You took almost everything that I loved away from me, left her to die a painful death and then told me to bury my grief!" his breath was coming in short, quick bursts, and his fists were so tight that John imaged he could see blood slipping threw the cracks between his fingers.
For a moment John was silent, hoping that the atmosphere of barely bridled hatred would ease. It didn't. Reluctantly he spoke again, his heart hammering, from nervousness or fear he couldn't tell. He couldn't help but notice the lines that ran through Jay's sharp face, which had lost any semblance of fat that it once had, and was now all sharp angles. Had so much time really passed?
"Please, Jay, I just wanted...needed..." the words were caught in his throat, and the look of blistering hatred on Jay's face was not helping any.
"What? Redemption? Forgiveness?" Jay left out another sharp bark of laughter, and turned back to the gravestone, his shoulders sagging just slightly. The movement slightly eased the sharp angles of his body, but not by much. John couldn't find his voice, and Jay didn't speak again for a long, thick moment. "My baby girl's only memory of her mother is the smell of that goddamn strawberry shampoo she liked so much."
Jay's voice was soft and rough, the sound of tears. His shoulders shook, and John felt, not for the first time, a sharp biting pain in his chest.
"She's thirteen..." John could barely hear him, and found the knife in his heart twisting deeper and crueler. "She has her mother's hair, and attitude. She's gotten into a dozen fistfights in the last month." There was a hint of pride in his voice, more than a hint actually; his voice was thoroughly saturated with it. John thought he caught a hint of a smile on the other man's face.
"And she'll be getting off school in about two minutes so I'll be leaving." Without another word Jay darted off, only to reappear a second later, his face less than an inch away from John's, his face a mask of hatred. "Don't ever come here again, your presence is a disgrace on her memory. Leave me alone, and if I find out you've so much as looked at my daughter..." the threat was left hanging, and before John could swallow the lump in his throat Jay was gone.
John sank to his knees, the soft black earth staining his beige suit. He could feel tears burning in the corners of his eyes, and stuck one hand out, desperately searching for something to support himself on. His fingers found cool stone, and his eyes snapped open even as his head snapped to the side so that he could read the inscription his fingers were tracing over.
SHAYERA HUL-GARRICK BELOVED WIFE OF JAY GARRICK LOVING MOTHER OF IRIS GARRICK DEFENDER AND FRIEND LOST TO THE EVILS SHE FOUGHT
Tears poured down John's face. Yes, he had wanted forgiveness desperately, but even more than that, he had news that Jay needed to hear. He would have to face Jay again, and most likely also his daughter. The tears gave way to broken sobs.
