Title: It'll Be All Right (Subject to change if we come up with something better :P)
Author: Khelkhet
Archive: Ask first
Notes: This is written for and with the help of my great pal Wildcat. Without his help and the help of Nathan Perry - Fanfiction ID: 929950 - I'd probably never get it finished, so I guess I can dedicate it to those two lovely peoples.
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Chapter 1: (Prologue)
Grant Residence - 13:27 (Present)
"One twenty seven." Exactly two minutes since he'd looked at the clock the last time. An hour and thirty three minutes to go.
Ted Grant had been sitting alone for nearly an hour. Prior to that he'd had a couple of his pals from the Justice Society drop in to see if there was anything they could do to help. They were good friends that way. Shoulder pats. Words of comfort and support. Good enough friends to know their visits should remain brief, knowing he needed time to himself before the final farewell scheduled for three o'clock. He'd see them all again at the funeral and reception afterwards, there would be time for chatting there. The one friend who still remained had taken it upon himself to do the things Ted couldn't bring himself to do.
'A real good friend.' Thought Ted. Though Sandy Hawkins couldn't see from where he was quietly speaking into the telephone in the kitchen, the sentiment was accompanied by a salute in the form of a raised beer and generous downing of the golden liquid.
Sand had shown up on the doorstep of the Grant residence two days prior. He'd heard of his friend's loss and made a call. Ted had surprised them both by accepting Sand's offer to help, and he'd proven invaluable. There were simply too many arrangements to be made. Between Sand and Dinah, everything had been taken care of with barely any need for input from Ted, who was quite happy with that. Of course besides the funeral arrangements and medical forms, Sand had also proven to be good company. He always had, but especially since Wesley Dodd's experiments had accidently put the kid on ice for several decades. They were both guys out of their own eras, Ted and Sandy...Gave them some common ground apart from their connections to the JSA. He didn't talk too much, he didn't mind changing diapers (Something Ted was still having trouble with due to his big hands and concerns that they were too rough), and he gave Ted someone to talk to. When he wasn't around, though, Ted could spend his time talking to the greatest treasure in the world.
She was nestled in the crook of his left arm and wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket. Her hands were bare now, though they had been in tiny mittens when he'd brought her home and was warned that she should keep them on for a few days. He'd obligingly left her little pink hat in place, but he had wanted desperately to see the ten perfect little fingers he was half responsible for creating.
One thirty one.
Grant sighed at the clock. Not that he minded the illusion of time moving painfully slower. He had never cared much for funerals and had been to too many over the years. He'd discovered that among the consequences of his extra lives was the fact that he had the time to see the people he cared for die. Some of natural causes. Most as a result of doing their jobs as heroes of the world. Those were the tough ones, but it was part of what they accepted by putting on the costumes and hitting the rooftops. Saying goodbye to them was also saying 'thank you'. He hadn't gone to a funeral for someone he loved this much in many, many years, though. This funeral would be different. He wasn't altogether sure he could make it through, and so if three o'clock didn't feel like coming around anytime soon, he wasn't going to rush it.
"Be glad, kid," he murmured to the sleeping baby, "You're too young to remember what's goin' to happen today. I'll tell you all about it when you're bigger an' start askin' questions. Death may be a part o'life, but it's one of them things I'd just as soon do without til there's no other choice. You got lot's of things you can be learnin' in the meantime that are a lot happier than how sad it is tossin' dirt on family." The big man smirked, "Listen t'me, talkin' like a mook. If your mama was here she'd be rollin' her eyes an' fixing my words for me. S'one of the first things she did when we met up again coupla months after she got booted from the JLA; fixed my words and accused me of being pudgy." he paused, as if the baby had spoken up just then. He fixed a bit of the blanket around her neck with a massive finger that seemed all the beefier next to the baby. "Yeah, fine one to talk, huh? Imagine her endin' up with the likes of me." he added with a small grin, "And imagine the odds of us hookin' up and leadin' to somethin' the likes of you. Magic, from start to finish. Lemme tell you what happened, kid. Best you hear it from the horse's mouth n'stead of whatever story the boys at JSA headquarters dream up..."