Chapter Text
The team is gathered around the table, laughing and content. They're here to train and discuss possibilities, nothing too serious but still worth discussing. And it's tearing Arthur apart.
There were days like this with the old League. Back when they operated in separate cities, when there were less of them altogether, when they felt capable of the balancing act their lives required. Before the Earth-Mars war, before the destruction of the satellite, before he had to fear that his fellows, his friends, had died. That time's gone now.
Now, he doesn't get to let these moments linger. Not when the responsibility required by the Justice League had become so horrifically apparent. Not when all but three members of the team entirely lack true experience in this sort of life, as heroes and as a team. Not when the responsibility for all of this falls to him, the last remaining founding member of the Justice League.
So he ends it. He interrupts and ensures that everyone treats this with the gravity it requires, even if he has to ignore the looks that Zatanna and J'onn direct at him, even if he must field the anger and resentment of his new teammates. It must be done. He must be the one to do it.
Everything is different now. There is no Watchtower to hide away in. There is no large roster to allow for time away. There are few experienced heroes to show how things need to be done and even less time to do so. There is no Mera waiting for him. There is no Arthur Jr. and even if he was here, if he did save him, would this be the way he'd want to raise him? Would he even be capable of choosing one life over the other? God, would he have resented his own son, his beloved baby, as time passed for taking him away from this?
He can't bear thinking about it. So he doesn't.
He doesn't.
Not until it's over. Not until everyone has returned to their quarters or home for the night. Not until the darkness refuses to allow him an escape, a distraction. Not until the weight grows so heavy that it must be removed in some way.
He cries that night, as is quickly becoming routine for him. He cries for the son he'll never know and fears he would never have appreciated as much as he deserved simply by existing. He cries for Mera, his wife, his great love, lost to him in grief. He cries for the team he once knew, for friends still lost in the furthest reaches of the world. And he doesn't stop until the exhaustion catches up to him.
When he awakes, his face is still damp. But he doesn't have time to dwell on it now. He has a duty to perform and there is a weakness that he cannot show, not as leader of this team, not now.