#ofgreenlantern

☄ “Leave the kid alone, Sin. Pretty sure ‘Space Jesus’ wouldn’t have a dick shaped like a tentacle, anyways.”

Hal’s funeral was a haze to Barry. But so was listening to Kyle and John try to break the news to him, so was cleaning out his locker at Ferris Air after Carol texted him, and so were several Justice League meetings after he found out. It was like his mother’s death all over again. How his emotions just seemed to shut down in a way for coping. You’d think that for a man who preaches ‘keep moving forward’ he’d be able to accept his best friend’s death better and move on.  And for everyone around him it seemed just like that. The speech he gave at the funeral showed just how much of a friend Hal was too Barry, and how much of a hero he was-- even if some other’s might not of agreed with him ( considering the damage he did as parallax. ) He didn’t hesitate either when Carol reached out to him to come by Coast City to help clear out his locker and his apartment--  something in her voice over the phone said she didn’t want to do it alone ‘And your his best friend-- I called Ollie but he didn’t seem to pick up and I don’t want too’ He pulled off a smile that didn’t reach his eyes ( because he knows all too well that people can hear a smile in someone’s voice over the phone ) and said ‘I’ll be right over.’ And he was, before Carol even put the cell phone down he was knocking on her office door. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were a bit puffy but he managed to greet her with a smile. They went through Hal’s things, reminisced about the ridiculous things he got himself into, talked over old photos he had tapped to the inside of his locker-- and be the end of the night, Carol handed Barry his bomber jacket.  She couldn’t look at it anymore, she said. “Besides it won’t do me any good. It’s too big and it never gets cold enough to wear a jacket like that.” So she pushed it on Barry.  And after finally getting home and closing the door and holding that bomber jacket in his hands did Barry finally let himself mourn. He realized that he’s not coming back, that he’s not going to be sitting on his couch when he gets home eating all his chips and drinking the beer ( he bought for Hal in the first place. ) He won’t be there to make him laugh during League meetings or there to catch him if he’s flailing through the sky because he’s one of two league members who can’t fly. His heart seemed to break, an empty void filling in his chest as his stomach felt sick-- a week after the funeral Barry finally cried and then he shut down again.  He didn’t much sleep any of the nights after that.  Nor did he get much sleep the following year after his death.  Barry had the problem of losing himself in his work when he shut his emotions down. He overworked himself, Wally kept calling him out on it and eventually so did the other leaguers a few months in. He brushed them off, give them a smile and say everything was fine. His work didn’t fill that empty whole in his chest, running didn’t ease the sickness in his stomach, and no matter what at least once a day he always thought ‘Did Hal suffer?’ He shouldn’t be so hung up on it, he should move on he told himself. Move forward.  It wasn’t until ten months after the funeral did Barry realize why he couldn’t. December was chilly in Central City, and a frozen hell in January and February. And it’s during the first winter snow storm that he realized his old jacket from last year was just a bit too tight in the arms and ended up having to wear Hal’s jacket. Everyday after that he could be seen wearing Hal’s old memento and at first it only raised curious eyebrows but never drew questions. Besides wearing it seemed to calm him down, the empty part of his chest feeling just a bit less cold let alone it was a damn warm jacket against the cold Central City winds.  He managed to avoid three weeks of no questions before the annual League Christmas Party happened. Barry huddled in a corner with the jacket on the back of his chair, sipping on spice eggnog as Ollie, Dinah, and Diana were having some sort of drinking contest with said eggnog across the table. Ollie lost, and the two women in front of him chatted idly before they eyed in on him and seemed to drown him in questions and advice. ‘So why do you have his jacket barry?’ ‘Are you doing okay, I know you’re eating and all but..’ ‘Have you been getting out? We told Wally that you two should go see that new movie that just came out, seemed like your thing.’ ‘Barry this isn’t healthy even if you loved him--’ The last one seemed to freeze him in place, his heart pulling in his chest as all of a sudden he couldn’t seem to stay sitting anymore.  Before he could reply to anyone of them he gave them a quick apology and left, jacket in hand as he ran off towards the teleporters back towards Earth. It took one agonizingly long week of thinking and overthinking that yeah-- that was it. He couldn’t move on easy because he never got to tell Hal the truth.  A YEAR later and it was easier, just a bit. Or maybe it wasn’t and he had just come to terms with that void in his chest. Fingers tapping away on his phone as he walked up the stairs to his apartment, two full bags of groceries squished between his chest and his arm as his fingers fiddled for his door key. He wasn’t exactly paying attention as he walked up those stairs and nor was he exactly expecting company that night. But bright blue eyes landed on a familiar head of messy brown hair and then warm brown eyes and all at once Barry was slamming to a HALT. Keys and groceries dropping to the ground as he stared wide-eyed at a GHOST in front of him. ❝ HAL-- but I thought you were-- ❞  He didn’t really finish where his sentence was going, it didn’t help his mind was running thirty miles a minute right now and instead panicked eyes shot between his friend and the ruined groceries on the floor before mumbling. ❝ I think I just broke all the eggs.... ❞ 

I’m wondering right now if I’ve just fallen and hit my head reaaallly hard, and this is all just happening in my concussed noggin’.

☄ When Hal finally did manage to come to; he found himself lying in a cot within the Watchtower’s medical bar. It was silent on board, save for the whirring of the various medical technology surrounding him. He glanced down at his body which was sprawled out on the cot. He was still wearing his ring, but his suit was in tatters; mostly around his torso. His ribs were completely bandaged, and when he tried to sit upright, he found out exactly why that was. “AH.” He let out a choked yelp, his once steady breath quickly replaced by ragged gasping. “O-Oh yep. Broken ribs. That feels like broken ribs alright.” He grit his teeth to bear the pain as the power ring rebooted with his call to consciousness. “Assessing target bio-readings: multiple fractures; 3 cracked ribs, bruising on chest plate, mild concussion. Active recovery: 4-6 weeks. Corp members notified.” A sigh escaped the pilot’s lips, “Yeah, I’m sure John’s really looking forward to cutting his vacation short.” He slumped back down in the cot, his eyes continuing to glance around the medical wing for any sign of the other heroes that had accompanied him hours earlier. “Hellooo! Anyone there? Did I get my ass kicked? Feels an awful lot like I got my ass kicked. Flash? Supes? Diana?” “I swear to God if you’re just sitting around ignoring me, Bats, you and I are gonna rumble!”

                                               Oa.| Ask.| Submit.

“Sinestro. We meet again. D’ya miss me? You’ve kind of went a long way to get your hands on me, y’know.” He sighed out the last challenge to the fiery-skinned man. “So.. What do you want? Also. Loosen the chains a bit.”