in blackest day

Ladies and gentlemen, the Flying Graysons!

You’re nine when you watch your family, your team, go crashing down and you can’t do a thing about it, you can’t even cry (here’s a hint: the crying part comes later). There’s just silence. Then the screaming begins.

You’re nine when you’re taken in by the World’s Greatest Detective, whom you now know as Bruce Wayne. You’re an acrobat at heart, you feel right at home doing handsprings and somersaults, except now you know what it feels like to throw a punch. You find the man who murdered your family, and now you know what it feels like to win. They call you the Boy Wonder; they cheer for you, and it almost feels the same.

You’re thirteen and dizzy with un-words and the thrill of being on a team made up of sidekicks just like you. You’re part of a covert ops team - you’re a freaking mathlete - and still get to fight at Batman’s side, how cool is that? It’s like you’re invincible. When Aqualad is chosen to lead, you feel strangely relieved.

You snap a photo of you and the strongest girl you’ve ever known - we’ll laugh about this someday. And you really believe you will. But then you get a taste of leadership, and now you know what it feels like to die. You say to Black Canary, I don’t want to be ‘the Batman’ anymore. You say it sincere, you say it hand-over-heart.

Then suddenly you’re seventeen, and you’ve ditch the red and yellow for good. Your best friend never does. Barbara becomes Batgirl. You look at Babs and think you’re too good for me, and you wonder when that has ever mattered.

You’re made leader of the team and you do it, because you’re ready, and no one ever says hey, you’re only seventeen. Two months later, there is a death in the family.

You turn eighteen. You move to Blüdhaven, and you like your new place, and the fact that it’s all yours, but the sheets never quite feel like home. Home is where the heart is, and you’re not quite sure where yours is anymore. You have another brother now, his name is Tim. Just don’t die, okay?

You’re nineteen. Pretending like your friends aren't really your friends is exhausting. You’re still the leader and the leader always knows the right thing to do, the right thing to say to boost morale. The leader has to act like everything is copacetic, even when it’s far from it. No one questions the leader. You think I have to make things right, but you end up making things so much worse.

You try to tell Wally that you’re sorry but it comes out as a childish I’m sorry you lost all your precious souvenirs! instead of I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. As if imaginary words could scrub the guilt off your conscience. You wonder when you had started holding back from the person you trusted the most outside of your adoptive family.

You’re nineteen. Practically an adult, and adults have to make hard decisions, so you make them. When you collapse at the bottom of your best friend’s hologram, you remember him saying that he will always be taller than you, and you cry so hard you can’t even think straight. Just don’t die, okay?

Your best friend in the whole world is gone and nothing feels right anymore. You leave before you turn twenty, but you know you’ll be back sooner than you think.