Long Past Dawn

He swallows it in one gulp and I'm left to wonder how he didn't choke on it all. He turns to me with a twinkle in his eyes and I know he did it to cheer me up. "Thanks," I say, after all, that's happened it's good to have the distraction.

"Anytime." He says with a grin.

I smile, but at the back of my mind, I have one question I want the answer to. "How did you find me."

Stephen's smile almost falters for a moment but he still answers, "I mean I'm not a hacker just in name."

Wait, so he hacked into Cadmus and was able to find me? Did he find out anything else?

Stephen must see the questions on my face because he answers my unspoken question, "Their who server was wiped pretty much exactly after we found out where you were being held and on what level… Sorry."

"Oh." Is all I reply with, for a while, we just sit in awkward silence. I know Stephen did his best but I still wish we had more information on Cadmus. Well, not much to be done about it now anyway.

I push out my chair and stand up, "I'm going to go back to my room…. I just need some time alone right now."

Stephen nods, even though I can see the worry in his eyes. I try to give a reassuring smile but I have a feeling it came out half-assed, I turn and walk back to my room.

After the door closes behind me I slump down into my bed with a sketchbook and pencil in hand. I spend the next twenty minutes doing small sketches of Jikan, none of them show the pain she was in. The Jikan in my sketches are laughing and smiling happily or running through fields. But no matter how many times I sketch her it's never right, her eyes are always empty and don't have any of the emotion that is, was, in Jikan's.

I through the book and pencil into one corner of the room and roll into my side. She's really gone now, isn't she? I think about crying again but there aren't any tears. Hey Jikan, am I really the hero in your story?

"F.u.c.k it," I say as I curl into a ball, sinking my nails deep into my plans as I do. Why doesn't it hurt more? I can stand it when it hurts, but this numbness? I can't handle it at all.

My emotions feel so out of touch I don't even know what to do. I curl deeper into myself until my knees touch the top of my head. "Why can't it hurt."

A gentle knock sounds at the door and I almost jump at the sound of it. Through the door comes Black Canary's voice, "We'll be leaving in ten."

I don't reply, I just sit in my silence. I expect Black Canary to leave since I didn't reply but I don't hear the sound of her boots walking on the cement flooring of the warehouse.

It's as if I can feel her through the cold metal of the door, her worry and concern for me almost choking me out. I still don't respond and I hear her sigh before her footsteps get progressively quieter. And then she's gone.

I look down at my grey hoodie and jeans, not what you would wear to a funeral that's for sure. I try to think if I have any black clothes when I remember one of the things I shoved into my duffel bag before my world fell to pieces. The one dress I owned.

It's an old black thing that I haven't worn for years. Black velvet with black embroidery flowing all over it, in a pattern that seems to have no beginning or end. I can't even remember when I got it.

I uncurl myself and go over to where I have my clothes placed, and just as I remembered the black dress is at the bottom of the stacks of clothes. I quickly change into it and praise god when it fits perfectly onto me, if not a little tight in some places.

A strand of hair falls into my face and I flick it over my ear. It's time to go. Though the words seem to have a different meaning, it's time to accept it.

I swallow hard and step out the door, it beeping shut behind me. I walk through the warehouse, every step feels like a thousand pounds has been added to my shoulders. If there has ever been something I have equally not want to do but want to do so badly, it would be right now.

Everyone is standing waiting for me, the heroes are in full gear and Stephen is wearing a black shirt and jeans. I see the worry and concern and maybe even grief in their eyes, I tilt my chin higher, I won't show weakness.

I won't cry. I won't be weak. Not now and never again. I will be a person Jikan would be proud of. Even if that person isn't me.

I think back to when I would just see the heroes on the news, wondering if I could ever be like them. Now I am, and I hate it. Because I am like them but I'm also not, I'm a coward, and I hate myself for it. I open my mouth and say two words, that might just be the start of this story, or maybe it's the end. "I'm ready."