TIM DRAKE & DEALING WITH SHIT
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TW: lots and lots of sadness, grief, death, and an all in all bad time with a little bit of random stuff and a bit of fluff thrown in
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“I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.”
J.R.R. Tolkien
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“The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”
Apollon Maykov
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“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you will never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”
Anne Lamott
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“This is a call to the soldiers
The fighters
The young, the innocent, and righteous
We've got a little room to grow
Better days are near
Hope, is so much stronger than fear
So if you jump, kid, don't be scared to fall
We'll be kings and queens in this dream, all for one, one for all
You can light up the dark
There's a fire in your heart
Burner brighter than ever before”
Battle Scars, Paradise City
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A tear slid down his cheek silently as he knelt down to place the blue flowers gently in front of the gravestone, placing a pebble on top of the stem to keep them still, ignoring the way the wind blew his hair into his eyes.
He didn’t move from his spot on the soft grass, not even glancing back when he heard the familiar footsteps from behind him.
“They were her favorite flowers, you know.” Tim whispered, gently fiddling with one of the petals, a small, broken smile fixed onto his face. “She was always talking about what they meant, and how much she loved them. She wanted to plant a garden full of them when we’d eventually move in together. She was all like- “Forget-me-nots represent true love and giving someone this flower means you truly love and respect this person. It is a testament to your relationships and promises the other person that you will never forget them in your thoughts. A symbol of fidelity and being truthful to someone you love. Timmy! That’s totally us!!” It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it, that they also represent remembrance, both during a parting or after a death.”
“Tim…” Dick whispered, voice filled with sadness.
“We were going to get them tattooed as soon as we turned 18.” he whispered.
Tim broke down, his silent tears now becoming heartbroken, body shaking sobs. Dick ran over quickly, kneeling beside his younger brother and wrapping his arms around the smaller boy.
“I miss her, Dickie.” he cried, “I miss her so much!”
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“If we spend our days waiting for fabulous roses, we could miss the beauty and wonder of the tiny forget-me-nots that are all around us.”
Dieter F. Uchtdorf
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Tim wished for many things.
He wished his parents hadn’t worked so often.
He wished Jason hadn’t died.
He wished he hadn’t had to become Robin to keep Batman from going crazy.
He wished he had spent more time with those he loved.
He wished his mother hadn’t died and his father hadn’t gone into a coma.
He wished he had some time to process and mourn everything that had happened to him.
But most of all he wished that Steph was still here. And that he’d gotten to say goodbye.
…
He wanted to lay in his bed and never leave.
What was the point in getting up? His girlfriend, his best friend, the love of his life, was dead.
As was his father.
And his stepmother.
All within a few months.
He wanted to sit in a chair and process, mourn, and say goodbye.
He wanted to have his Bella Swan moment.
But, as they say.
There’s no rest for the wicked.
…
He put Cluemaster back in jail with multiple wounds and a bruised ego.
It wasn’t enough to fill the hole in his chest that made certain a blonde ball of chaotic fire would always haunt him.
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“Leisure is only possible when we are at one with ourselves. We tend to overwork as a means of self-escape, as a way of trying to justify our existence.”
Josef Pieper
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They were just sitting there.
Not talking. Not touching. Not even looking at one another.
They were just sitting there in companionable silence.
Sometimes, that was all you needed to sort out your thoughts.
“She wouldn’t want me to act like this, would she?” he asked, biting a bit too harshly down onto his thumb.
Cass shook her head, gently grabbing his hand and lowering it from his mouth, intertwining their fingers.
“I have to get better, don’t I? Not as… depressed.” he continued.
Cass nodded, a small smile fixed onto her face.
Tim nodded, too, face now set in a determined look.
“Okay. Okay…” he thought for a second, tapping his chin. “I need to get away for a while. Hang out with Young, Just Us?”
Cass grinned. “I’ll take care of Gotham. You, go.”
Tim smiled too, a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.
“Okay.” he whispered. “...Okay.”
…
The first thing his friends did when he arrived was bury him in a hug.
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“And then I heard the angel say, ‘She’s with you every day.’”
Author Unknown
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Tim is not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow they ended up playing D&D.
It might have just become one of his favorite games. Ever.
It's amazing, and he will never forget it.
True to form, his character was a Human Rogue, named Aakil. He was awesome.
D&D was awesome.
He loved it.
Bart made a wonderful DM, being just creative & funny enough to make every game exciting and hilarious, and with Anita making a character who chose to do the dumbest possible thing every single turn, no game was ever going to be boring.
Especially when the girls all teamed up to make a badass team of characters who were as beautiful as they were powerful.
It was wonderful.
He laughed for the first time since Steph’s death.
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“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.”
Gary Gygax
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The dinner table was silent as they ate, the only sound coming from the scraping of spoons on the bottom of the bowls, and the occasional cup being placed down.
It was, to put it simply, very awkward.
Dana seemed to be trying her best to fill the silence, going on about her day, and asking Tim how his own was.
He commended her for her effort, really, but she had to know there was really no fixing years of awkwardness that comes from barely seeing each other.
“You should invite that blonde chick over for dinner again.” his father said, interrupting Dana’s speech about apricots & cancer.
Tim stilled, heart missing a beat as his face fell.
“Jack-” Dana chastised quietly.
“What?” the older man asked indignantly. “Why can’t she come over? She was loud, sure, but she wasn’t that bad.”
“She’s dead. She was killed during the Arkham breakout.” Tim said, silencing the two sitting with him at the table.
With those words, he pushed his half-empty plate away, standing from the table and rushing out.
He just heard Dana getting onto his father about working on not bringing up such bad memories, and working on actually paying attention to something other than himself.
…
That night, he snuck out his bedroom window and went to the first place he met her.
It was a surprisingly clear night, which he was thankful for. It was… peaceful.
He sat on the rooftop, staring up at the moon, relishing the cool wind against his face, a pleasant contrast to the heat.
When he first heard of the myth of the Banshee, he hadn’t believed it. A little ironic he wouldn’t believe something like that, since he literally worked with aliens, but it just didn’t seem likely.
But after… that night… He’d looked more into the legend.
And to say what he found was fascinating (and a little -okay a lot - terrifying) is an understatement.
According to the website, “A Banshee is said to be a fairy in Irish legend and her scream is believed to be an omen of death. The scream is also called ‘caoine’ which means ‘keening’ and is a warning that there will be an imminent death in the family and as the Irish families blend over time, it is said that each family has its own Banshee
A Banshee is a disembodied spirit and can appear in any of the following forms:
A beautiful woman wearing a shroud
A pale woman in a white dress with long red hair
A woman with a long silver dress and silver hair
A headless woman carrying a bowl of blood that is naked from the waist up
An old woman with frightening red eyes, a green dress and long white hair
An old woman with a veil covering her face, dressed all in black with long gray hair”
He still wasn’t sure if he believed it, but one thing he did know was this:
The night Stephanie died, a few hours before the occurrence, a woman did scream.
They, obviously, went out to investigate.
They found nothing.
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“She had wailed loudly enough to wake the dead and make them call the cops.”
Ilona Andrews
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There was a new villain out on the streets.
Although, Tim supposes, villain is a broad term.
He was more like… an anti hero. Or perhaps an anti villain.
Because, as far as Tim could tell, this… person’s goals didn’t seem that bad.
His means of going about getting to these goals, however, were a different story.
Thus far, the “Red Hood” as the man had been going by, had only killed people who had committed a crime. He protected Crime Alley and usually stayed away from the bats.
That was, until, the Gotham Police Department received a duffle bag full of heads.
The stakes had been raised, and now the bats were paranoid and suspicious.
So, maybe Batman was right afterall.
Maybe Red Hood is a villain.
Tim wouldn’t know for sure, though, until he came into contact with the man and was able to accurately study his mannerisms.
It happened sooner than he expected.
…
He was patrolling his section of Gotham, listening intently for anyone who needed help when it happened.
He was midjump when he suddenly found himself being launched backwards, landing heavily on the roof of a nearby building and skidding several feet, causing his skin to burn.
Tim groaned as he instantly moved into a defensive position, taking stock of the situation and cataloging all the information he knew.
Whoever had attacked him was able to sneak up on him without his knowledge
They were strong
They were also incredibly intelligent & skilled at stealth.
“So this is the big bad Bat’s newest toy. Honestly I expected more.” a roboticized voice said, coming from the only corner of the roof in a shadow.
Tim tensed, trying to keep himself from flinching as he examined the large, muscled body in front of him.
It was his face that gave him away. Or, I suppose Hood is a better phrase.
“Red Hood.” Tim said, voice surprisingly strong, hiding the mix of emotions Tim was currently feeling well.
He could practically hear the man’s smirk. “So, the replacement has done his homework. At least one of the little birds listens.”
Tim blinked, mind going a mile a minute as he tried to place Red Hood’s words.
Something about him just seemed so familiar. It might’ve been the way he held himself, or the confidence he had standing on the ledge of one of Gatham’s oldest buildings, but there was just something about him that screamed you know him .
Tim wasn’t sure who it could be. He never met anyone with a build like Hood.
He’ll have to go over suit footage later.
After he got home.
“What do you want, Hood.” Tim snapped. He wasn’t asking.
Red Hood sighed in exasperation, tsking, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You birdies never did do well with patience. Alas, we’ll have to work on that. As for why I’m here. Tell Batman to leave me the hell alone and to stay out of my territory. Or he’ll regret it.”
Tim scoffed. “Regret how?”
“Or he’ll find he’s missing another Robin. Which would be, what is it? The Third to die out of four? Not good odds at all” Red Hood threatened.
Tim’s heart stuttered, but before he could do more than ready his bo staff, he found himself flying through the air, a scream tearing from his throat as he was launched through a window, glass shattering around him. Red Hood had moved with superhuman speed, punching him off the roof and across the way to the next building before Tim could even think of defending himself.
“See you around, Replacement.” Red Hood promised. With those menacing words, the older man disappeared back into the shadows.
…
To say the rest of the bats reacted badly was an understatement.
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“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”
Friedrich Nietzsche
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After the whole run in with Red Hood, the Bats became even more suspicious than they were before… If such a thing were even possible.
Tim was no longer allowed to patrol alone, or for as long, and his comm had to be on at all times .
It was kind of -okay, a lot- annoying.
Currently, he was in Titan’s Tower, hanging out with his friends.
It had been a while since he had last seen them, and they were becoming indignant about it, especially when they learned about the run-in with Gotham’s newest Rogue. So, when Bruce was going on a recon mission that Tim was not allowed to be on, and Dick & Cass banned him from patrolling, he decided to use it to his advantage and have a sleepover, maybe go on a few missions, you know, the usual.
He had been running on empty for awhile now, but he had to finish this report.
They’d been called into a rescue mission early this morning to stop a kidnapper from wreaking havoc.
And then some villain who wasn’t really a villain but thought they were showed up and started spouting some nonsense about how they were going to take over the world and weren’t going to let some “puny children with bad fashion” (which Tim took great offense to. He was not little, thank you very much. ) stop him, and honestly it was a very long day.
By the time the Teen Titans defeated the guy, Tim was 5 seconds away from sitting him down and explaining that his villain monologue could use some work and more originality. Seriously, taking over the world? Boring, overused, try again.
So, now, here he was, distractedly and tiredly trying to finish his reports of the day, empty coffee mugs surrounding the dark room illuminated only by the computer in front of him.
Maybe if so much hadn’t happened today, Red Hood wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on him.
Alas, you can’t always get what you want.
…
So.
After a very taxing fight that left him bruised and bloody, Tim acquired quite a bit of information.
Red Hood can hit hard
He has a vendetta against Tim being Robin & Batman letting him
He likes calling Tim “Replacement.” A lot.
Red Hood was Jason Todd come back from the dead.
Now Tim Just had to figure out how to tell the Bats, how Jason came back to life in the first place, and how to bring him back into the family.
Easier said than done, the future would soon prove.
…
When Cass showed up the next morning after 3 hours of radio silence, she promised that there would be hell to pay.
His friends whole-heartedly agreed.
…
There was a Mass Breakout of Arkham.
They were careful to stay in contact at all times. They couldn’t have a repeat of what happened to Steph.
Tim didn’t think he’d survive if that happened again.
They’d managed to get all the rogues who’d escaped back in prison.
All except one.
Joker.
And who happened to find him first?
You guessed it.
Red Hood.
Batman, against what literally everyone was saying, went after him.
He walked out of a building, holding Joker’s manic form.
Seconds later, the building exploded.
It sickened Tim, watching the footage, later.
He’d made a copy of it before Bruce could delete it.
He’d learned to start doing that very early on in his training to be Robin.
Batman had slit Jason’s throat and then left him there .
Tim had gone searching, hoping against hope that Jason was still alive.
He was, but the plans to bring Jason back into the family, quite literally, went up in an explosion.
…
The fight between the Bats and Red Hood ended in a mutual agreement to stay the fuck out of each other’s way.
Red Hood got control over Crime Alley, where he could do as he pleases without Bat interference, while the Bats got to keep the rest of Gotham safe by their own means.
The two teams would give intel to each other if needed, but otherwise kept their distances.
Jason refused to come back to the family. He didn’t talk to any of them.
Tim promised to himself to keep trying, but knew that the wounds they’d all inflicted on one another would not be easily forgotten or forgiven.
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“I have never seen a greater monster or miracle than myself.”
Michel de Montaigne
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His father had proposed to Dana.
It wasn’t that surprising, really. Jack Drake had always been impulsive with his decisions, something that caused quite a few arguments between Tim’s parents when he was younger.
What was surprising was that Dana said yes.
Now, that might seem like a cruel thing to say, but Tim thought it was justified. The couple had only been dating for a few months, and while Tim knew that some couples moved fast, it just seemed so… rushed.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves Dana. She’s awesome.
He just couldn’t imagine her going from Dana his dad’s girlfriend to Dana his stepmom.
But he was happy for them. He even got to help Dana plan the wedding, so that was fun.
But, deep inside him, his heart ached.
Some of the ache was for his late mother, who died before Tim got the chance to join his parents on their expeditions.
The other ache was for Steph, who’d he’d always imagined marrying when they were older.
And with a snap of Fate’s fingers, both were taken from him before he could say goodbye.
It hurt.
He didn’t think it would ever stop hurting.
…
He took Cass with him to the wedding.
The wedding was very big. Jack had invited all of his old business partners, and Dana seemed to have hundreds of friends. Tim kind of hated how big it all became, but it wasn’t his wedding.
He doubted he’d ever get married, anyway.
Cass had scared many with her way of psychoanalyzing them into submission, and for that, Tim was glad. She made it where everyone would leave them alone to chow down on all the food.
If there was one thing that he was happy about, it was how ecstatic Jack was. Tim had never seen his father look so… joyful. Dana brought that out of the older man, and Tim was forever grateful.
Their relationship might seem odd to the outside eye, with the age difference, the way the relationship came about, and the fact that Jack had already been married before, but it worked for them.
There would be fights. There would be times when they felt as if they hated each other. But all they had to do was look back on the many, many pictures Tim took on this night, and they’d remember how truly right for each other they were.
And that was enough.
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“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”
Lao Tzu
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He and Cass visited Stephanie’s grave on the 2nd anniversary of her death.
They brought bottles of spray paint with them.
Tim ignored the tears gathering in his eyes as he methodically smoothed down the dirt around the flowers they’d just planted, gently brushing a finger over the blue petals.
“She would have hated how bland her grave looks.” he said, chuckling wetly. “I’m sure she’s happy we’re doing this.”
Cass gave a melancholy smile, handing him one of the cans. “It’s a good idea.”
With that, they got to work.
When they finished, they stepped back, surveying their work.
A mixture of purple, blue, red, and silver covered the grave head, a silhouette of Steph’s body staring up at the moon, a Forget-Me-Not in her hand, was what the colors depicted.
Was it illegal? Yes, probably.
Did they care? No.
They’ve done worse, and this was one thing they’d never regret.
Not for a moment.
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“Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul. I find myself searching the crowds for your face - I know it's an impossibility, but I cannot help myself.”
Nicholas Sparks
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Bruce had a biological son.
It surprised all of them. Including Bruce.
The kid's name was Damian, and he’s the weirdest kid Tim has ever met. Which is saying a lot because Tim knew a lot of weird kids. He is the weird kid.
There is nothing wrong with being weird, of course. Being weird is awesome. Tim absolutely, 100% recommends it. He’s never bored. It’s especially fun when he and Cass go out in public and freak people out with their weirdness. Stephanie used to come with them, but…
Anyways…
Damian was weird. In a strange way.
He was also very territorial of Bruce, which makes absolutely no sense since he just met the guy.
He also really, really, really didn’t like Tim.
Apparently, Tim has the face of someone people (particularly other Bats or people associated with the Bats) hate.
He’s not sure how to feel about that.
But it's fine. He’ll be nice when he interacts with Damian, and try his best to let the boy settle into his new home first. Tim can’t imagine having to move to a new country with people you’ve never met before because your mom said so at 10 years old. That sounds horrible.
…
Damian is a little menace and Tim kind of hates him.
The feeling is mutual. Damian made sure that Tim knew that.
…
The first time it happened, Tim was sure it was an accident. There’s no possible way Damian meant to throw a grenade at him, right? Sure, he’d had a tough childhood, and didn’t really understand social cues, but even that wouldn’t lead to purposeful murder, right? Right?
The second time, Tim realized that Damian really hates him and definitely wants him dead.
So. That’s nice.
Luckily, being pushed off a Dinosaur didn’t kill him.
Close, but not close enough.
Broken ribs, sprained ankle, bruised wrists, concussion. That was the extent of his injuries.
It really fucking hurt though.
For more than one reason.
The third time, Tim decided that it was probably best to just avoid Damian. Easier said than done, but at least it’ll limit the amount of times Damian can cut the wire to his grapple.
Honestly, between Jason and Damian, Tim will be lucky to be alive by 18.
…
After Damian finally realized that the no killing rule was, in fact a rule, things got a little bit better.
Damian still loathed his very existence, but he stopped actively trying to snuff it out.
Tim will take what he can get.
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“You're some freaky shit, my brother. You really are”
J.R. Ward
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Tim had a bad feeling.
He’d learned long ago to never ignore these bad feelings. He certainly wasn’t going to start now.
He was right to trust his gut.
His father called. His breathing was rushed, and he sounded scared.
Jack kept repeating that he was proud, that he loved him, that he was sorry he couldn’t be a better father.
It sounded like he was saying goodbye.
And fuck that, Tim decided.
He was racing through the streets, heading to the apartment he, his dad, and Dana all shared, heart hammering in his chest.
He was so close.
So… close.
His father’s breath stopped coming through the comm.
No.
NO.
…
There was blood on the floor. A stain.
Tim couldn’t look at it without paling and immediately getting sick.
He stayed as far from the apartment as he could.
…
The beeping of the heart monitor was the only noise in the small room. The sterilized smell was giving Tim a headache, but he ignored it, focusing only on the young woman lying in front of him.
“Say your goodbyes, kid.” The officer who was with him said. “Her family is taking her home soon.”
Tim inhaled deeply, closing his eyes tightly to try to keep the burn from leading to more tears.
He was tired of crying.
He stood on shaky legs, slowly walking over and leaning down to press a kiss to a pale, clammy forehead.
“Thank you for everything, Dana.” he whispered. “You were the best stepmom a kid like me could ask for. Get better soon… love you.”
He left the room, not glancing back.
…
He lost his family in one fell swoop.
And it was all Captain Boomerang’s fault.
His heart felt cold.
Empty.
…
The funeral was small. Quiet.
Tim stared blankly at the casket in front of him the entire time.
Cass held him later that night, tears streaming down her face as she listened to her baby brother’s wails, shirt soaked through and sticking to her skin as she did her best to calm him by brushing a hand through her hair.
She felt like a failure. She couldn’t protect him.
…
3 months later, Bruce officially adopted him.
…
Bart went next.
Then Kon, too.
And then, eventually, Bruce.
Except, Bruce wasn’t really gone.
And he’d fucking prove it too.
Watch him.
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“The worst type of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see--the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.”
Katie McGarry
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His 17th birthday passed quietly.
Well, in the way that nobody really wished him Happy Birthday except Cass and Babs.
It wasn’t quiet at all when Spoiler showed up.
Or, at least, a spoiler look-alike.
He wasn’t so sure who hated him so much. He didn’t feel like he’d done anything nearly bad enough to deserve this.
Losing the love of his life, his brothers in arms, his parents… That was enough. There was no need to rub salt in the wound.
But bringing one of them back and then attacking Tim?
Now that was like continuously opening a wound that was already infected. And then pouring buckets of sand mixed with glass and salt into it.
He found out later that it was a test.
A test to see how he’d react.
Because that’s all he was. A guinea pig.
An experiment.
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“See now the power of truth; the same experiment which at first glance seemed to show one thing, when more carefully examined, assures us of the contrary.”
Galileo Galilei
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Pru, Z, and Owens were awesome.
Honestly, Tim was kind of wanting to just disappear and go on adventures with them all the time.
He’s sure he can convince them to leave Ra’s.
He’s a better boss anyway. Definitely a better paycheck.
Plus, there’s the added benefit of their relationship being a great one right from the start.
Nothing brings people together like trying to kill each other.
…
Despite their rocky start, the three assassins that Tim had apparently adopted (or maybe they adopted him?) were incredibly loyal.
Tim wasn’t sure how to feel about it, honestly.
It was new.
Usually the people who were loyal to Tim ended up dying or having to leave for some reason or another.
The only person who’d really stuck around and stayed on his side despite it all was Cass, and she was off in Hong Kong, trying to complete Bruce’s wish.
She gave him a comm, though, that would be able to reach her no matter what. Despite Dick having relayed that Bruce had specified this as an absolutely no contact mission.
Cass never has been one for following the rules, though.
It was a good look on her. Tim admired it.
…
He had spoken too soon.
With a snap, Owens and Z were suddenly gone too.
And Pru was about to die.
Tim probably was too.
But He had to bring Bruce back.
He had too.
So, he picked himself up. Dragged him and Pru back to the car.
They made it to the hotel before they finally succumbed to their wounds.
It completely slipped his mind to call Cass.
Luckily, another girl was on a mission to find him.
Without Tam, he’d definitely be dead.
…
Honestly, walking away from an explosion after defeating Ra’s forces was probably the most therapeutic thing he could have possibly done.
It was very soothing. Great for his complexion, all that fancy stuff.
Now all he had to do was prepare for the comeback.
…
Wondergirl was with Babs, though he doubted she actually needed help. Babs is a badass and woe be to whoever doubts it.
If there’s one thing Tim had learned about Alfred, it was that he was the most prepared out of everyone to handle something like an assassin trying to kill him. Still, sending Cissie as backup never hurt.
Anita was really excited to meet Catwoman, so things were handled there.
Manhunter, Huntress, Man-Bat, Batman & Robin, Raven & Beast Boy.
Everyone he thought to call in to help was more than willing to wreck a little chaos. It’s always nice when you get to piss off someone immortal too.
“I’m not Batman.” Tim said. “I have friends.”
…
He got kicked out the window, which he really should have expected.
But it didn’t matter. The people he loves were protected.
They didn’t join the growing list of dead.
That’s all he could ask for.
…
He also got Bruce back.
Maybe, now, things could get better.
Maybe they could be a family.
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“When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part.”
John Irving
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“It sucks that we miss people like that. You think you've accepted that someone is out of your life, that you've grieved and it's over, and then bam. One little thing, and you feel like you've lost that person all over again.”
Rachel Hawkins
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“Grief can destroy you --or focus you. You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone. OR you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it. But when it's over and you're alone, you begin to see that it wasn't just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing a floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill. It was everything, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it. The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can't get off your knees for a long time, you're driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss. And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life.”
Dean Koontz
……………………………………
“I'll carry you home
No, you're not alone
Keep marching on
This is worth fighting for
You know we've, all got battle scars
You've had enough
But just don't, give up
Stick to your guns
You. Are. Worth. Fighting for
You know we've, all got battle scars
Keep marching on…”
Battle Scars, Paradise CIty
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