Chapter Text
Tommy wanted it all to be a dream so badly. He would give anything for it to all be a dream. He would give up one of his nine lives in a heartbeat. How could this be reality? His reality.
His fingers scrape the blackened dirt over and over, as if hoping to find meaning in the remains left behind. But nothing. Its nothingness plagues him, as hollow as the hole now left gaping in his soul.
He swallows past the lump in his throat and presses the heel of his palms, dirty as they are, into his eyes.
No, no, no. This is yesterday. This is yesterday and they're laughing and coming home from a gig way too late. Trying not to make too much noise, giggling and snickering up the hall, hands all over each other, until they fall into bed.
Grant's not dead. He's not. There's been a mistake. It wasn't him. And even if he did discharge, he'd survive that. Grant… Grant was indestructible.
"Tommy… Tommy, we have to go." Maxine tried to touch his shoulder but Tommy shrugs it off.
"What is he doing?" Ted ask her, finally having arrived. Ted's words sound a million miles away. Courtney must have called him when Tommy had disappeared.
Maxine had found him here. Maybe she had a gut feeling for where he'd go as soon as they all stopped fighting and things calmed. Or maybe she'd just gotten lucky.
"He was like this when I got here. Won't talk. Won't move." She looks up at Ted. "It's where Grant, as a Black Lantern, detonated."
Ted nods and rests a hand on Maxine's shoulder. "You're a good friend, Maxine. But you can go. I'll stay with him."
She seems uncertain but finally agrees, heading over to where Courtney was waiting. The girls leave and Ted comes to kneel beside Tommy.
This is the part Tommy hates. The part where Ted acts as if they're not semi-strangers. Like his being Tommy's dad has any solid bearing. And if Grant were here, Tommy would shoot him a look, and Grant would understand instantly what he meant.
"Tom, let's get you home." But the moment Ted touchwa him Tommy's eyes turn golden. He letw out an animalistic growl, his humanity slipping instantly, and Ted retreats. There's a sigh and Ted resigns himself to sitting there and waiting this out.
Tommy doesn't need him, though. He needs Grant to appear on the horizon, unscathed. He needs to wake up from this nightmare. He doesn't even have a body. He can't even hold a body. What the fuck is he meant to do with this? Grant wasn't even MEANT to be there.
He and Ted are there for hours. Tommy isn't keeping track but Ted is. Any time Ted tries to get them to leave Tommy growls. Finally Ted shakes his head. Has the old man finally got the message?
"Tommy you haven't eaten, slept or had water since before the fight. We have to go." And he makes to scoop his son up despite his age.
"He's coming back." Tommy mutters. Ted stops.
"What?"
"He wouldn't- he's not dead. He detonates and he's fine. Nothing could kill him like that. He's coming back. He's here, somewhere."
It seems like Ted can't tell if Tommy really believes this, if he's clutching onto this out of grief, or if he's delusional from the stress his body is under. Tommy knows his voice is shaking and broken and ringed with exhaustion. But he can't do anything about it.
If he says it, it might actually be true.
Ted bends and scoops him up, despite the growls. Tommy struggles for dear life, trying to clutch the dirt and hold onto it like it's a lifeline. He writhes and kicks out, trying to get out of Ted's grip. His small body starts to shift, bones cracking while Ted holds him, nails turning into claws. But just as sudden as it begins he shifts back to human.
His body can't handle the stress of shifting and he's out cold.
Tommy is out for 36 hours, on an IV drip. When he comes round he asks for Grant first and Maxine strokes his hair, waiting till he's lucid enough before gently talking him through the events.
Grant had been at the Freedom Fighter memorial when he was attacked.
Grant died.
Grant was made into a Black Lantern.
Grant clawed back his sanity and sacrificed himself to be a hero one last time and turn the tide against the Black Lanterns.
Grant detonated.
Grant is gone, completely gone.
As she speaks Tommy's brain whirs. It remembers. He tries to deny it. His body shakes and he knows he's saying something but he's not even registering what.
Where had he been when Grant died? At HQ. Where was he when Grant was being a Black Lantern? Destroying other Black Lanterns. He wasn't there. There were no goodbyes. No body. Nothing. His Grant died alone. Twice. His Grant had more brutality piled upon him and no solace even at the end.
His nails dig into his skin and Maxine grabs his hands to stop him.
"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, stop! Tommy-"
"He can't be gone-"
"Tommy, please-"
"Maxine, he can't-"
"Tommy, please, you have to stop-"
"Max-"
"-Tommy!"
He pulls his hands back, ripping out the IV so hard he bleeds and then curls in on himself. Maxine can't get him to unfurl, he just tucks his head against his legs, holding himself tight and breathing heavily. And he stays like that until he passes out from exhaustion.
He doesn't talk. He does eat the next day, though not a lot. He eats more the day affer that. He sleeps when he passes out from exhaustion. He stares into nothingness when people try to talk to him. He won't let anyone into Grant's room. After two days he stays in Grant's room himself, curled in a nest of his boyfriend's clothes and bedsheets and he stares at the ceiling for hours. Maxine brings him food.
But when it comes time for Grant's funeral he goes. He refuses to dress up. He's a werecat and everyone can go fuck themselves if they don't like it. Grant would have loved it.
And he hates every minute of the funeral. It was a huge affair, with people waxing poetic about Grant. Some of them people who never respected him when he was alive. Where were they all when Grant needed someone to get him out of court mandated superheroics? Nowhere. Fuck them. Grant would want Pearl Jam playing and jokes being cracked. Grant would want Al talking. And Toni. And Bart. And… him. Fuck this.
And he left before the wake. He sits by the remains of the Freedom Fighters statue and runs his pads over his tail. Doesn't move when he smells Al approach.
"I'm not going to the wake."
"He'd want you there."
Tommy snorts. "You don't know what he'd fucking want." He can't help the razor sharp edge to his words. He always could be an asshole, often was, but being with Grant had softened him somewhat. It was like with him gone his jagged points had once again sprung up. And he can't bring it in himself to care. Al might not deserve it, he might be the closest thing Grant had had to a brother, but he was who was here and Tommy needed someone to make feel as fucked as he did.
"I think I have some idea."
"No, you don't. You don't know jack shit if you think that, that, was the kind of send off Grant would have wanted. A public spectacle? From some of the same people who condemned him to all this? But look who I'm talking to. The same guy who thought Grant wanted any part in Albert's stupid goddamn legacy! Newsflash, all Grant wanted was to go to college." Tommy can't stop the words, they're coming faster than he can think. "He wanted to play baseball, and study, and write his stories. He wanted to be a regular guy, with someone who loved him no matter what and never held his history and powers against him, and to stop fighting every damn day. He wanted none of this. And I tried, I tried to give him as much as I could. I loved him so hard so maybe it'd be enough. I tried to make him happy. And be there. I wasn't there for one - one time… it wasn't even a fucking mission! I loved him. And I failed. And now I'm alone. And you know jack shit." He finishes. He's standing - when did he stand? - and is breathing heavily. Al is staring at him.
"Tommy, you didn't - if you had been there you'd be dead."
"Good. Good! Let me be dead. I'd rather be fucking dead. Dying beside him."
"You don't mean that-"
"I fucking do. Anything would be better than this. I lost my mom. And I was prepared for that. Slow, painful, bit by bit… but I wasn't ready for this. We were happy one day and he's dead the next." His voice cracks. "He was more than my boyfriend. He was my missing piece. He was half of me. I didn't know where I ended anymore and where he began, Al."
"Tommy, I know this is hard-"
"Sincerely? Fuck off Al." He shoves past and heads towards the subway. He can't be here. Not now. He doesn't want to be anywhere. Existing without Grant beside him doesn’t feel like an option. And he doubts it ever will.