Work Text:
When I was really young, I asked Benzo one night what really happened to my parents. I was at the age where every young boy starts to think he can handle every truth in the world.
So he told me they died, that it meant they couldn't come back, that their souls were somewhere else. And when I asked where they went he said they join the other stars in the sky.
I'm older now, I've been older for a while, and I've watched that sky for years to see if maybe I could find his star. Even if I know that it's not really there.
When I found Vi after the explosions, her arm was broken, and she was wailing like her own heart had been gutted from her, still beating.
And when I got to know what happened, I understood why, I understood every break of anguish coming from her raw throat.
I understood every tremble and sob as I got us out of there. I had heard the explosion. Heard her die.
I had to take deep breaths and grit my teeth to keep the tears back. Couldn't risk losing more people in one day just because I was crying too hard to see my footing properly.
Sometimes even looking at Vi now hurts a little because she has the same eyes as Powder did.
Powder's still on the mural wall, I guess, now it's Jinx's turn.
My clothes still have her paint on them when I sketch her right next to me. I think they'll always have her paint on them and I don't know if that makes me want to wear them more or less. If I wanted to see her everywhere and accept the knife being driven dead into my heart or if I'd rather pretend she was never even really there at all.
After weeks I finish the painting. My hands are blue, I'm pretty sure it's gotten in my hair and on my face.
I look and even as a painting she still looks too much like the girl I grew up with for me to ever hate her completely.
"You really are like a bad dream, you know that?"
She doesn't respond, of course she doesn't she's a mural. I place a flat palm right over where her heart would be if she was alive.
I look up at the sky, and though it could just be coincidence, could be attributed to grief, I swear there's two new stars. I sit down and set my head back against the wall.
"Is that you?"
It twinkles. It's not. But she's dead, and even if I wasn't a kid anymore, even if I knew that souls weren't stars, when a star joins the sky you can't help but wonder if it's somebody you love.
I smile at the star, I smile at her.
"Brightest most beautiful star in the sky, Pow."