I have a million things I want to say. About how Ted was the best guy ever. Until the bastard who introduced us, Max Lord, killed him.
I want to thank Diana for killing Max. Not exactly the right sentiment in a church, so I pass. Or tell Barbara that she was the love of Ted’s life. Not that she returned the feeling. Or even tell Guy that despite the fact that he treated us like we were below him - Ted actually liked him.
But then I wonder…why did they treat Ted like he didn’t matter? Like he wasn’t good enough to be in their new “oh-so-superior” Justice League? Or that their constant put downs and insults hurt? Or that part of being a god means you should act like you have some class?
And then there’s Batman. The toughest of them all. Because if not for him and that damn Brother Eye satellite he shot into space…Ted would still be alive.
There’s so much I want to say. So much that needs to be said. But in typical Michael Carter fashion, where every victory is turned into defeat…
…I come up empty.
Some friend I am. Bad enough that I wasn’t there to save him. Now, at his funeral…
…I can’t find the means to pay proper tribute.
I’m sorry, Ted.
I’m so, so sorry.