2nd Gen- Love Is War 'sadfic warning'

"Dorothy, come on now, chin up, eh?" Toby floated right past Dorothy's nose, a concerned look on his face.  "It was just a date, probably nothing serious."

"Yeah.... But I dunno..." The witch looked away, keeping her head pointed towards the steps below her.  "I guess I just worry over things that shouldn't matter."

"I suppose that's it..." Toby agreed, with a nod.  "Look, just sleep it out, things'll be better tomorrow, alroight poppet?"

"Heh... Okay, I guess..." Dorothy's laugh was very half-hearted, however.  "Besides, it's not like there's any use chasing something I can't face, right?"

"Wha-" Toby began, but the door was closed on him.  He turned, and sighed, drifting his way back to the clocktower top that he called home, greeted by the few stray cats he had the heart to take in.

"Hey there, blokes..." Toby smiled, before casting a look to the glittering lights of Gotham below him.  He could remember when Gotham wasn't so big, when the stars were all up in the sky instead of spiraling through the air, trapped inside buildings.

It was a simpler time back then, when lads pined for ladies more than the ladies pined for men, when a woman's laugh wasn't there just to hide a sob.  Toby frowned.

"It's not fair, ya know? For Dorothy to be so sad, too shy to tell that other bloke she loikes 'im..." Toby sighed, stroking a scraggly-pelted calico beside him.  "Specially when 'e ought to be asking 'er out, and getting it through 'is skull that she adores 'im more than anyone else in this whole city...."

Toby got up, going to the windowpane, leaning out, as if to find who he was talking about. He bit his lip.

"Why.... I think she deserves someone better...."  He murmured. "It pains me to see 'er being 'urt by someone else...."

"She needs someone better than 'im, someone who actually pays attention to 'er, every little word and cute little gesture she makes...." Toby began, a fist shaking.  Then he looked down to see a cat sitting on the windowsill, tail twitching through his ghostly torso.  "But I guess one would need an actual body for that...."

Toby sighed and sank down.

"Oh, I'm such a fool.... I'm too dead, an' I died too young to even 'ave a chance...." Toby blinked his eyes, as if to hold back a tear. But ghosts don't cry, at least not ones like him.

"But... It's not like I know what to do.... Or how to...." Toby rubbed his cheek, a sob welling up in him. A white cat looked at him curiously.  "I-I'm not crying, little bloke, I'm not....."

He leaped up suddenly, his emotions twisting through him stronger than ever before, as strong as they were when he was alive.  He yelled into the night.

"DOROTHY, I LOVE YOU!" he screamed, a tear actually finding it's way to his face.  He looked up at the sky, barely being able to make out a real star peeking out through the hazy clouds above him.  He slouched down, exhausting himself with emotions.

"Dorothy, I love you.... And your love is my war. I wish I could fight for you and win you your happiness back.... Your real happiness, with that bright smile and those pretty sparklin' blue eyes and the way the sun plays with your pretty brown 'air...  But I can't, I can't, y'see? I know.... I know that you could never see me as more than I friend..."

Toby slumped down to the floor, curling up.  He could feel a darkness passing through him, and it scared him.  Ghosts are fragile things, they need to have a connection to the world to exist, but those connections can often destroy those close to one.  A disadvantageous situation if there ever was.