Silvia Stone was a vigilante with only one goal in mind, to give criminals a swift and painful death. As one could imagine, Superman didn't exactly appreciate the bodycount that was mounting. After being thrown into prison, breaking out, and more en...
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Struggling to hold back the grief, tears flowed steadily and silently down immobile faces. The sky was dark and grey. The grief in the air hung like a thick, wool blanket, draped over all of them. There were no smiles from the remembrance of Jonathan Kent, stories which they remembered about the good times they'd had. Only sorrow over the loss of a wonderful soul, husband and father. It felt as if time itself was standing still; that this was just a horrible nightmare that the family wanted to wake up from.
As the coffin was lowered people draped in black stood around it. Martha was crying hysterically in her sons chest, and Clark was holding her as tight as he possibly could without hurting her. His own face was streaked with tears but he bit back any sob that threatened to escape and instead stared at the newly dug grave.
Seeing Clark like that made her heart as barren as the moors on a desolate winter morn. She didn't know what to do in this kind of situation... If it were her she'd want to be left alone but Clark was different. She lifted her arm to touch his shoulder but winced before she could. For the most part her hands had healed quickly but a few of the more delicate bones were still mending.
The priest had already recited the sermon and a few people had gotten up to speak about their love for Jonathan; Clark was one of them. It was the hardest thing in the world watching him struggle to form words at the stand...
Worst of all, Silvia felt responsible for all of it. Even a few days after the funeral she still felt like it was her fault. She should have been able to stop it... somehow.
To enter the cemetery she had to skirt around a pile of brown frosted leaves, the innumerable flashing fragments shone in the brilliant wintry light, for today there was no weather; no wind, no cloud, just subzero temperatures. Even the leaf stems laid white and sharp.
Ahead the path glistened like white quartz, yet ice crystals on weary concrete is all it was. All this beauty over everything dead. And here she was to add to it with a bunch of pink roses in her recovered and gloved hand. She paused, her breath rising in visible puffs, then she remembered why she had returned. At the funeral she barely had an opportunity to pay her respects... She had felt too guilty. She was here to correct that.
She placed the roses on Jonathan's grave, right next to the new tombstone. His was the most cared for in the entire cemetery, though she figured that was because he had only been buried for five days.
Silvia was just in the middle of confessing her guilt when something zapped in front of her. Was that lightening?... It happened again, and again until finally a figure appeared amongst the bolts.
"Flash?" Silvia questioned, though he didn't exactly look like him. Even with his mask on he looked a little older than the Flash that she knew.
