life goes on

Summary: Life is hard for Kaldur, and intends on staying that way.
notes: I have a lot of Kaldur-feels after the last episode. whyyy greg, whyyy Kaldur, whyyyy _;
more notes: please don't be canon, for the love of god don't be canon
warnings: Spoilers for 2x03

.

.

.

.

"Kaldur?"

In the heart of Mount Justice, a perfectly still Atlantean blinks at the ground. He's seat on the couch, knees drawn up and a pillow pressed against his chest. He's aware—too aware—of everything and everyone around him, yet he takes none of it it.

"Kaldur?" Artemis says again, kneading the hem of her shirt relentlessly. Slowly, Kaldur looks up at her. It's like the movement brings the reality of things crashing down again; instantly his eyes are filled with unshed tears and his chest tight, too tight. Artemis drops beside him on the couch and, looking like she's about to cry as well, places her arms around his shoulders and squeezes.

"It's going to be alright, Kal," she says soothingly. "Tula's going to be alright, and so are you."

For a second, one heavenly second, Kaldur believes her.

Fifteen minutes later, Wally trudges out of the infirmary unable to meet Kaldur's eye. When he speaks, he stares at his shoes, words tumbling out so fast Robin is the only one who can understand what he's trying to say.

"Tuladidn'tmakeit and I'm sorry Kal, I'mreallysorry."

.

.

.

.

"Kal?"

Kaldur tenses at the sound of Roy's voice; he spins, fists clenched and eyes narrowed. Roy's missing his mask, revealing concerned eyes, and while Kaldur knows the feeling is genuine, he can't bring himself to care.

"You knew."

Roy raises his arm, quick to defend himself. "I swear I didn't. I found out the same time as you."

"You lie!" Kaldur throws down the letter in his hand—the one from his mother, addressing King Orin.

My Beloved King…

"You knew!" Kaldur says again, "Just as my king did! You withheld it from me—just as he did! Why should I trust either of you? Any of you?"

…please, accept my son…

"Kal…" Roy murmurs, sounding hurt. Roy never sounds hurt. Maybe, if this were another time, Kaldur would feel guilty. But now he just feels rage.

…he does not know of his father…

"First, you let Tula die, and now you wrong me again by not telling me who my own father is." Kaldur doesn't realize he moved until Roy's face is closer then it was before. "This is enough. I cannot associate myself with those I do not trust."

…He does not know of his father, his real father, who you may know to be the Black Manta…

"Do not follow me," he spits into Roy's face, and brushes by the archer without any trouble at all.

.

.

.

.

"Kaldur'ahm?"

As a soldier, as Aqualad, Kaldur had to face things without any emotion. He suffered through turmoil without a soul in the world for him to pour his heart out to. Aquaman—Orin—had strategically stayed out of Kaldur's life just enough to make it hurt. Kaldur considers thanking him, but sneers at the fallen king instead.

"You have no right to say my name," Kaldur whispers, voice shaking with anger. Orin, bloodied, on his hands and knees, looks up—revealing a tear-stained face.

"I…I am sorry, my son—"

Kaldur reacts without thinking; Orin slumps over as he pulls his foot back for another kick. "I am not your son! I was never your son! You—you distanced yourself from me because you knew, you knew of the lineage and wanted to keep your name clean!" White-hot anger is clouding his vision, mixing with tears of rage.

"Kaldur'ahm," Orin chokes on his own blood, "forgive me."

Kaldur silences the liar, once and for all.

.

.

.

.

"Son."

Kaldur shakes as he meets his fathers' eyes. Once, he wanted those eyes to be proud of him, but now…

"Father," he responds, feeling weak.

"What are you waiting for?" He gestures to Nightwing, whose eyes are fixed on Kaldur with a glaring intensity, "Finish him. Just like Orin. Just like Tempest. One more name on a long list of deaths."

Nightwing swallows; it dawns on Kaldur that he isn't fighting because he knows this is the end, the final stand, and he lost to the friend he had once looked up to. This hurts more then Tula, more then Garth, more then Orin, or Roy, or anything.

"Well?" Nightwing gives a halfhearted smile. "Take your best shot, Kal. I know when I'm beat."

Kaldur looks down at his weapon—the water formed in a perfect blade, pointed right over Nightwing's heart. He looks into the past, sees the smiling faces of his former team. He looks to his right sees the pleased face of his father.

He shuts his eyes, raises the blade, and wields it on Black Manta.

"Sorry," he says without any remorse as Nightwing stands to back him up, "but you have had control over me for too long, Father. Enough is enough."

And so adds to the list of people Kaldur has betrayed in his lifetime.

.

.

.

.

.

"Kaldur!"

Kaldur ignores the cry; he thinks it may be Batgirl, but voices blend into each other so it may as well be Superboy. He takes another step forward, to the weapon the alien is pointing at him, and thinks of the last time he did this; with Roy, only he cared about his life back then.

"Let them go," Kaldur says to the alien. His voice is soft and trustworthy. "Take me instead.

"Kaldur!" That has to be Nightwing, but Kaldur won't lie to himself; he would rather die then let his friends down again. He takes a deep breath and steels himself for the blast.

Softly, he can hear Tula's laugh as an echo in his mind.

"I am coming, Tula," he says. The canon goes off, he feels hot and cold and pain, so much pain—

And then nothing.