She was pacing the room, a cigarette held in between her fingers. She had lit it up but her thoughts had weighed her down such that she didn't even recall whether she had puffed it or not. And when the tobacco began to stain her fingers, she crushed it against her palm leaving a burn right in the center.

It stung as the end of the cigarette pressed down into her flesh and though her teeth had clenched, she still felt terribly numb. As if the short pain of the cigarette burning into her hand wasn't enough to take her mind away from the pain in her heart.

Her eyes flickered towards the guitar that was lying on her bed and that seemed to have worsened the ache.

It was Neal's guitar and Jason had just left, leaving the instrument with her saying that Neal would have wanted her to have it. Ever since then she had been pacing her room restlessly, recalling all those times Neal had played songs upon that very instrument, how he had taught her to play it as well and now that he was no more, the memories struck her intensely.

Neal had been like an elder brother to Lydia and ever since she had met him he had become a very important part of her life. He was the only one who had looked out for her, who made sure she wasn't in any trouble and who had taken the blows for her on more than one account to mention.

And sometimes she would wonder whether she would have even been there at the moment if Neal hadn't been such an important part of her life.

"You'll thank me later," he always used to say whenever she would protest against him caring for her or looking out for her in his own way.

Neal was a mystery to most people but to her he was family. And losing the only family she had had was nowhere near easy for her.

Countless nights of restlessly pacing the room, dreams tainted with the past and the terrible present and overall the haunting loneliness eating her up from the inside... She had had no idea how she would be able to cope with it.

And the only person who could have understood her state at the moment was her best friend Jason Todd. Jay had stood by her and all the others who were connected to Neal such as Sarah, Rose, Elliot, Andrew, Peter and Barbara. And even though she had always believed that there could be no one more irresponsible and brash as Jason Peter Todd but the boy was proving himself to be a support they could hold on to.

Perhaps because after Neal he felt it his responsibility to hold them all together like the tightly knit family they used to be.

She still recalled the night after Neal's funeral as vividly as if it was just yesterday. She and Jason had stayed by the grave for almost the entire night, her head resting on his shoulder, tears pouring down her face while he had held her close trying his very best not to break down himself.

And even though a week had passed since that terrible day that had turned their lives upside down, she couldn't bring herself to come to terms with the truth.

It still seemed to her that Neal would come back somehow, laugh at her the brilliant sound of it resonating around her and say, "now that was real stupid of you to think I would actually leave you alone. Don't you know, I love bossing you around, can't let death take that away from me."

Then she would tackle him to the ground, a punch landing on his face for being such a jerk and faking his death, for making her go through his funeral. And he would most probably say something like, "you can't stay angry at me forever." To which she would usually reply with "I can and I will" but he always knew exactly how to fix her mood up.

While thinking about it all had sent a soft nostalgic smile playing upon her lips but deep down she knew that was never going to happen. Because he hadn't faked his death and could never come back.

The back of her palm brushed against her eyes furiously wiping away the tears. Nothing could bring him back and the fact that he had been taken away from them in just a split second without any warning and so abruptly made her think about the temporariness of everything.

Maybe that was why Neal always lived his life to the fullest because he knew how unpredictable it really was hence he never held himself back. And even he used to point out how much Lydia was like him in that way of thinking.

Lydia too was not afraid of what the future held and she too could go to the extremes without the fear of falling to her demise in the meanwhile. She pursued her dreams just like he encouraged her but with him gone, everything around her was crumbling.

Just like the crushed cigarette in her hand, her life was becoming no more than powdered ashes tainting her skin. Closing her fingers around the cigarette she finally approached the bed, picking up the guitar that was laying there.

Her hand brushed across the fretboard as she sat down on the mattress, her fingers picking out the chords he had played often from the slightly worn areas of the strings. Taking in a deep breath, she adjusted the guitar, her trembling hands coming to a stop as she willed herself to play it.

Neal had himself taught her to play that instrument and by then she had become quite proficient in it, playing often for her friends when Neal would let her take the guitar. And as she struck a chord from memory, following it with another in a series, she realized that the song she had started to play absentmindedly was actually his favorite.

He used to sing it often and the way the song mirrored him churned her heart. But she didn't stop because she felt like he would want to hear it one last time. If he was able to look down at her from above and see that she was playing his song on the guitar.

And when the final chord was struck, she let go of the instrument lying down on the bed as if exhausted but pulling the guitar closer. The horrible loneliness was gnawing at her insides and though she had always been much of a loner earlier, right then she felt as if it would eat her up alive. Probably because she lost the only person she had truly cared for in her equally unpredictable life.

Nothing was going to be the same again, she could feel it and knew very well that there was no denying it.

***