Don't mourn for me

[翻到了三年前的老文, 搬过来lof存个档。伪绿红, 复制体哈尔, AU, 渣文笔。]

My body has gone, My spirit is free,
But I will linger in your world,
your heart, your memories.
So don't mourn for me, my dear,
When the day comes
I shall return to presence
and fight by your side in eternality.

He was dreaming. Not his, but another nightmare that belonged to Hal Jordan.
Next wave of memory swamped his head, dragging him away from the death of the scarlet speedster.

His role was a clone observer. He accessed and filtered Hal Jordan's memories, so this villainous organization could reconstruct Jordan's personality upon the stolen corpse. Preparation for another sleeping agent inside the Justice League, that sort of thing.

He knew all of the plan, and he cared far too much then he should.

A friend he secretly shared from the memories. Possibly the warmest syllables in the world. Barry Allen. He could cry for the smiles and care and warmth the blone represented, in Hal Jordan's life.

When the disposal order came through, he ran. He ran, attacked, and ran. Jordan might not fight with bare hands, but luckily the battle instincts he inherited from the memories saved him from dozens of deadly traps. Surveillance data stated that his programming code was never interpreted, nor was he exposed to any kind of mind control. Nobody could have explained his urge to break free.

A complex of satisfaction and worry reached him as he approached the last gate. He was uncertain about what he would face. Sunshine and clear skies, just like Jordan's memories illustrated?

No. No, reality struck him with a ransacked city. Burning streets, freaked crowd, and the sky darkened by alien fleets. He wasn't sure if there was an earthquake, or his legs simply trembled.

他认出了城市的輪廓,这却不再是哈尔乔丹曾经熟悉的一切。

难怪他一路上除了自动火力系统就没遇到多少干涉。显然无论是邪恶反派还是普通人,在不可力抗的灾难前一样得逃命。他茫然地在瓦砾中漫步,有点搞不清自己应该做什么。最后他找到了一辆被遗弃的老车,花了点时间把它导着,然后决定逆着人流往市中心驶去。

一切都发生得太快。怆惶的逃难者只顾往街道的两旁挤,等待着那枚偏离航向的外星炮弹从他们上方掠过。一对母女呆坐在街道中央,没有人伸手去扶,也许没有人在意。有什么推动着他扭转軚盘,往那方向直冲而去。喔,对了,他的直觉--或者说观察?它会掉下来。

脑内的演算化为了现实。偷来的车子和炮弹狠狠撞击,把它推离了原本的坠落轨迹,堪堪解救了民众被炸成肉酱的命运。它们冲进了某处空置的商场,车门被压力挤成一块废铁,玻璃碎成星尘般的残骸溅了他一身。

他从龟裂的侧视镜中瞥到那对母女已经站在行人道上瑟瑟发抖。按理说,普通人类不可能看清闪电侠的移动,但他确实把视网膜上的红色残影和记忆里的对上号了。他费力挪出车外,感受到摔在地上时无法避免的疼痛,不免回想起某个乔丹和巴里艾伦度过的电影之夜,两人在讨论各个超级英雄的交通工具中迎来了晨曦。

他没有匍匐出多远,那一声“滴答”实在是过于响亮。炮弹究终爆炸了,还好倒置的视角里街道上已经空无一人。好样的,不愧是世上最快的人。他的身体被冲击力举到半空,又重重落下。

一只手拨开了他额前的碎发,一把从未听过却无比熟悉的声音叫唤着哈尔,相觸的肌肤传来了顫抖。那一瞬间他感到了真切的惊慌,破败的身体却不允许他逃开。闪电侠跪在他身边摇晃他的肩膀,口中呼唤着一个亡灵的名字。不过他也快死了,不是吗?

他的眼神开始涣散,再也没法在那双湛蓝的眼睛上聚焦。胸膛剧烈地抽搐,喉咙发紧得像是下一刻就要喘不过气来。然而他有太多话想对他说,尽管那些无法成形的句子都被血沫和咳嗽淹没。

I've been watching you for so long.
I am not the real Hal Jordan.
I never lived his life.
Yet falling in love with you seem inevitable.



(He was not Green Lantern nor Hal Jordan, but he died like a hero.)

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