Sometimes, Bruce Wayne thinks he has spent more of his life in a graveyard than outside of one. He visited the graves of the victims he couldn't save lost to the never-ending battle against the darkness that threatened Gotham City. He visited the grave of his parents, ripped from the world, ripped from him because of one ill-fated shortcut after seeing his favorite movie. Bruce visited Jason's grave. Braver than a man, to brave to ever become a man. The grave Bruce found himself at today though, was Hal Jordan's. " He was the best of us," Bruce breaks the silence eventually.

" I never said it," Bruce continues, thankful to have the presence of the person both he and Hal loved with him. It never got easier to stand in the graveyard of someone he had loved more than he ever had the words for. " Maybe I just didn't want it to go to his head. We both knew Hal had an ego. But he was the best of us. The brightest. With him gone, what chance do the rest of us have?"

Like Atlas, Bruce takes the weight of that statement on his shoulders. Hal and Bruce argued about everything. Bruce frequently chastised Hal for how bright he shone on the battlefield, making stealth impossible for the League. But secretly, Bruce had always admired how brightly, how bravely Hal had shone. Unafraid of anything, making himself a target so no one he loved was in danger. And more than that, with so much darkness in the world, Bruce admired, loved, that Hal was unafraid to be radiant.

" No way. Is Bruce Wayne gonna cry for me?" The unmistakable sound of Hal Jordan's cocky voice rings out in the graveyard, and in a cloud of mist, Hal appears in front of you. Bonded to the Spectre, the Spirit of Vengeance, Hal might have been dead, but he lingered. " What's that you two were saying about me being the brightest?" He smirks, but his real smile is visible. " Hey, why the long faces? I know I'm dead, but everyone comes back in this line of work. And I love you both too much not to come back to life. I love you both too much to stay gone."