System Reboot || DC

Chapter Six

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It's Not Okay

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Month 1

Jocelyn was dead.

A fact that seemed to reach out and tip the scales of reality, pouring its mightly cup to drown those who denied its firm existence. Pouring a sticky sap over their eyes, forcing them to relive the horror day after day.

It was hard having to tell Alfred of their loss. The man remained quiet, but in his eyes, it could be seen how much her absence caused a void in the old man's heart. It did the same for all of them.

Her laughter, the echo of her voice, the soft smile that tugged at their emotions. How she didn't have to do the most for them to appreciate her presence. She was someone who showed them that emotions made them strong, not weak. That they needed to embrace the bad to be good.

The Yllorians, the alien soldiers who helped them defeat the Zerg and defend Gotham, took Jocelyn's body back to their planet so that her people could properly lay her to rest.

They wanted to do the same. Hold a ceremony, not for the soldier but for their friend. Dick told them of the perfect place atop a hill overlooking Gotham. A place that he went to watch every sunrise and every sunset.

They didn't bury anything besides some flower seeds that would later bloom into white chrysanthemums, a symbol of loyalty and devoted love. Chrysanthemums were believed to represent happiness, love, longevity, and joy, but they could also symbolize death and grief.

A flower gifted in time of mourning.

During these times, it was hard for them to accept what had happened. Measly excuses incoherently rambled on in their brains. She would come back. She was just resting, taking time to heal. They have far more advanced technology, there must be a way to save her...right?

They were in shock and denial. It didn't make sense. None of it did.

Month 2

The other members of the Wayne family tried to convince the boys that things would eventually get better. That time could heal all wounds. They denied that there was anything to heal, even when they were hurting.

Their wounds might not be physical but they ran deep and bled so heavily into their hearts, choking them with the reminder that they were alive and she wasn't. It wasn't fair. How could someone so strong and resilient fall so easily?

It was bullshit.

It made them mad whenever someone acted as though nothing was wrong like nothing happened and that her death was just another occurrence in Gotham. To be perfectly fair, if it was anyone else, they would have been saying the same. Death was part of their job. But here, it was different. She was different.

They felt guilty, responsible, for not being there. For not comforting her in her final moments. Pain ignited in them whenever they woke up at night with nightmares of her ghoulish appearance. How she suffered while fighting to the death. How they appeared so weak that Jocelyn felt the need to sacrifice herself.

Barbara struggled as well. She was close to the girl and felt guilty herself, but she sought help. Talked to a therapist about her grief and explored her emotions in a safe place. She wanted the others to do the same, to learn how to accept rather than simmer till self-destruction.