Fates Have Spoken.
He is being offered the world, here. Kaldur knows it. He takes a moment, listens to his kings words. He wants to turn and look towards Garth, try and choose with him. Since they were young they have always chosen together, and after they met Tula, two turned to three. But he could also be part of the world above. He would help others. He could get to know so much more.
And then Garth is saying that he'll stay at the conservatory and Kaldur realizes that this is it: he can sink or swim but he has to do it on his own.
"I will fight with you, my king," he bows. Kaldur doesn't turn to look towards Garth.
And from afar, he thinks, around the sound of the tide and the whales, he thinks he hears a book changing pages, something from the tales of above.
There is NO WAY he's telling anyone this, not even Alfred (even if Dick is, kinda, completely sure that Alfred is part psychic and he has somehow managed to fool even Bruce about it) but sometimes, after a really, really, really disastrous fight, he has nightmares. Or even, worse than nightmares, since most of his were, at one point, real.
He dreams about being eight and his parents falling down to their death and he just staring forever at that. He remembers the summer when he was ten and Bruce went missing for two whole weeks and he kept thinking that he couldn't go through this again, he couldn't lose another parent. And then he dreams about the time he was eleven and he was caught by the Scarecrow and the things his poison showed him.
Except than when he dreams about that, he remembers the little girl that was there, with the multicolored hair and broken clothes and no shoes at all and the way she drew a mustache over one of the nightmares the Scarecrow was creating for him.
"Not nightmares, those belong to my brother and he says I can't play with them, he says," she wrinkles her nose. "But nightmares aren't good for playing, but daymares aren't good either. I like fishies better! And bubbles. Ooooh bubble-fishies too."
And then she had played with him which was, perhaps, the true proof that he had gone completely looney: they mounted sharks and rode them over the moon and Dick had laughed and laughed and laughed.
When he woke up he was at the manor, both Alfred and Bruce there and things were better then.
Still, sometimes he has nightmares. Really bad nightmares. The kind that would eat the daymares. And during those nights, he's no longer surprised when the girl with the blue-green eyes appears and smiles at him and says they should go and blow bowls over the bawling voice of the bong.
Suddenly, in her dreams, there is a young man sitting underneath a rock and M'gann frowns for a moment, confused, until the man looks up and then M'gann knows who he is.
"M-my lord!" She squeals, bowing low.
"I enjoy your dream," the god says, clad in white as the nightmares but not vicious, not yet. M'gann has done nothing that would incur Lord L'Zoril's wrath, she doesn't think. The god cocks his head to the side, and then he adds. "Could you show me?"
"More of your dreams," he seems... if he wasn't a god, M'gann would say 'awkward'. 'New' would be another way to say it, but instead of focusing on that she nods and she smiles, feeling lighter than before and she nods and make sure to dream her favorite dreams.
Sometimes the anger gets to be too much. Then he goes and breaks fights and punches walls and destroys things.
"You know, son, you need a hobby," a man tells him out of the blue. He hadn't been there before, he's sure of it, and Superboy tenses. The man seems everyday normal except for the part where he's very tall and he seems very strong and he's carefully doing a very ugly painting of what, Superboy thinks, might be a battle. "D'you want a soda, kid?"
"No," he says, distrusting, turning to go away. "And I'm not your son."
"Ah, well," the man shrugs, leaving the soda behind. He frowns at his painting before he shrugs again. "There's more to life than just destruction, y'know? And those things are as good as any outlet."
Before he can snarl at the man again, he's gone when he looks again, and only the soda can remains there.
Her mother cries, late at night. Artemis pretends she doesn't hear her, because her mother always tries to be silent. But she hears her and it hurts.
When she's at home, when there's not a mission, she closes her eyes and pretends she can't hear it in their little two rooms apartment over the bad part of Gotham. When she's on a mission, even though she's not listening to it, she thinks of her mother crying alone. She remembers and then she makes herself NOT remember, because even though she does try not to, Megan is a telepath and remembering those things is always dangerous near one of them.
But it aches and it cuts a little deeper each time. With each smile and each laughter, each joke, she feels the pain and the sorrow growing deeper inside her.
It hurts and she doesn't think it's ever going to stop hurting, no matter what she does.
Wally wanted to be like Flash, like uncle Barry. So he studied and studied and kept working until he recreated the experiment just so. He wanted so much that he never even considered that he could die. Sometimes it feels as if he ran fast enough he'd be able to catch this want, this need that seems to fuel his everyday.
It's not a need he can explain. It's not like he's hungry for food, or even girls. It is a hunger, but that's all it is.
"How can you call it 'all it is'," the woman - or a really really pretty guy? Nah, definitely woman, the hips don't lie, man - says with a smile and a soft look. "It's a need, yes? Important?"
"Well, sort of..." because it is what fuels him. Wanting to know, wanting to learn, wanting to be. Want. So much wan.
The woman - please oh please lord let her be a woman - leans forward and brushes a kiss against the corner of his lips which he is going to say counts as first base FOREVER. Then she smiles.
"Then, be proud of your want."
Then she laughs and swaggers back and it's a really unfortunate time to have a boner, since Aqualad's telling him he has to hurry to the base now or sooner.
She waits, nearby. Not stalking, just checking every now and then, because you never now with superheroes, she says, and Death smiles at Dream as he looks confused.
Then she smiles and shrugs and she looks at the young heroes and she says 'later' in her warmest, kindest voice, even though they're not part of her realm yet so they don't catch her words.