And All For the Want ... --  by BillA1 & Merlin Missy
Copyright November 2007

 Disclaimer: The characters and situations are owned by DC Comics / Warner Brothers, and are used here without permission but with good intent. This story is intended for our own enjoyment and is not for profit. Spoilers up through Destroyer and The Call. Set during the Batman Beyond time period. Part of the R 'Verse; while familiarity with that series is recommended, it is not required to enjoy this story.

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And All For the Want...

Rating: (PG-13)

Synopsis: Co-written with Merlin Missy.  Strange dreams are plaguing Aquagirl's nights, and Terry intends to find out why.

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Prologue
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A soft snore beside her stirred Merina from her sleep. She blinked her eyes against the dim lights in the bedroom and tried to remember her dream.

She'd been with him again. Her own fingers against her mouth recalled the sense-memory of kisses, and her heart still raced. The night before, she'd had a long dream about fighting Inque by his side, and woken with the taste of cheap takeout on her tongue. Crazy stuff.

Her lover snored again and then his breath jumped as he woke. "What time is it?"

"Four. Go back to sleep." They had an hour left, and they were both too tired to make any better use of the time.

"You too. And keep it down."

She sighed. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Terry scooted over and gave her a space to settle into as he wrapped his arms around her. Merina rested against him as warm and safe as she would ever be in his embrace.

When she was almost asleep, she heard him ask, "So, who is 'Warhawk'?"

The face from her dreams teased her again. "I have no idea."

~~~~

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Chapter One
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She hated watching Terry put on the suit. When they were alone together, nothing between them but sweat, he was hers. The suit, though, slithered around him, transforming Terry into something darker and more alien. Even his voice changed when he was Batman, and the part of him that was hers suffocated inside the dark suit every night. The mask was the worst, and for her sake it was the last to go on and the first to be removed before he reached for her in the night to kiss her.

Both relief and trepidation jolted her when their earbuds buzzed at the same time, and he paused in his costuming to answer.

"Go ahead," Terry said, and Merina counted to five before she touched her own ear and said the same.

"It's Green Arrow," came Metamorpho's worried voice from the other end. "He and Lantern have bitten off more than they can chew in Seattle. Can you two give them backup?"

"On my way," said Terry.

"Pick me up," Merina said, and then the line went dead. They shared a look, which he broke first to put on his mask.

"Come on," he said, and they hurried down to the Cave together. Bruce wasn't awake yet and wouldn't be for hours, but that didn't stop her from looking over her shoulder into the shadows, wondering if he was there.

Bruce knew about the two of them; they were in his house, for Neptune's sake, and he wasn't deaf. The League probably knew. But she hated giving any of them the satisfaction.

"Where are you?" Terry radioed as soon as they were in-range.

GL responded: "Pier Twelve. To the north."

Arrow added: "We found a hive of Jennians at the docks but they found us, too." Seattle had been a major hub for alien infestations ten years back, and the dumber species still tried to land there. This was the third time in two months that Arrow had tracked down a hive in his town. "Duck!" A blast sizzled over the speakers and Merina tensed.

"Drop me out over the sound." Terry nodded and flew the 'wing out past where the battle raged below. He could see bright green flashes, which meant that Lantern was still fighting at least. Merina popped open the door and dived out. She'd be back.

Terry looped around to where the Jennians were attacking his friends. Now he could see the docks swarming with purplish-grey aliens, their tentacles holding nasty-looking (and illegal) laser rifles. The one good thing about hundred-to-two odds was that the aliens were as likely to shoot each other as their targets. The bad thing was that those targets were still vastly outnumbered.

He flicked open the controls to the laser cannon, aimed, and set down cover fire just outside of where Lantern had ringed up a bubble. Arrow had found a hole in the bubble - or more likely, Lantern had left him one - and was firing gas arrows into the crowd. A higher concentration of gas and they'd all be burning now, but as it was several of the uglier ones nearest the bubble were already reconsidering their career plans.

Some of the brighter aliens began backing away and running for it. The less bright ones ran for the water.

Merina rose from the sea atop a crested wave. A half-dozen killer whales followed her. Normally they dined on fish, and seals and porpoises when they had a chance, but the Jennians would make a tasty snack. No sharks this time, Terry noticed. Normally she went for sharks.

Arrow mouthed something Terry couldn't hear, and Lantern lifted them both into the air. With the distraction Terry had provided, GL could focus on getting the critters rounded up in a large ring construct. Terry shot at the heels of the slower ones, while Arrow picked off the remainders.

Standard work, once they were organized.

There was a movement inside the gathered crowd of Jennians, and suddenly they began disappearing from the center. Terry just had time to process that before he realized the pier was collapsing. The aliens had probably booby-trapped it before they'd been spotted.

The large ship headed their way wasn't going to help matters, either.

Terry jammed his comm. "Aquagirl! The Titanic's coming!" From his ship, he watched as she nodded to the whales, trying to get them out of the way of the collapsing pier and the approaching ship, which blew a long, low note of warning.

"Micron!" she shouted. "Instant transport, our coordinates!"

Terry swore and gunned the BatWing under what was left of the pier. Jennians struggled in the water below him, but he didn't have time to worry. If the cracking wood gave way completely, the ship would crash into it. He reset the thrusters to vertical rise and as gently as he could, lifted the pier back into place so GL could ring a stabilizer into place.

How many different constructs could a Lantern ring keep going, anyway?

The ship shuddered into view right beside him and creaked to a stop. The Jennians in the water sputtered and tried to tread, though several were failing. Cursing more, he parked the BatWing and used it as a platform to help him drag aliens out of the water. Moments later, Green Arrow poked his head over the edge of the pier. "Need help?"

"Depends," said Terry, huffing. "What's your take on sushi?"

Once the ship was tugged to another pier, Merina forced water gently away from the pierside. That made removal of the survivors, and the rest, a little easier. Everyone went into GL's bubble, no muss, no fuss, fewer than a dozen dead squids. Still not a bad day, even with the smell.

"'Micron?'" Arrow asked when Merina had helped him throw in the last body.

Terry saw the panic in her eyes. "It's a maneuver we've been practicing," he said.

"Ooookay," said Arrow.

Lantern, coming up beside him, said, "Next time, let the rest of us in on your training exercises, okay?"

"Next time," Merina said.

"Where are we shipping these guys?" Arrow asked, making faces at the prisoners.

"Stop that," Lantern said, but she was smiling.

Terry said, "Jennia's a hole. Sending them back would be a death warrant."

Arrow said, "Waiting to hear objections. And that's a silence. GL, you want to fly them out or go try to grab Barda's motherbox?"

"I'll take the trip. If you're bored, you can come with me."

"What guy could resist an offer to take a load of purple tentacley guys to a barren rock? Count me in."

"Thanks for the help," Lantern said, and she waved to Terry and Merina as she formed a bubble around herself and GA.

Merina smiled and waved at them as they took off. Terry waited until they were out of sight.

"'Micron?'"

She let out a disgusted breath. "I screwed up, all right? For a second, I thought we had someone on the team who could grow to an enormous size. He could've held up the pier."

"Someone big."

"Yes."

"Named Micron."

"Can we drop it?"

And because he could clearly remember the impressive calisthenics from last night, and the weeks before that, and because he was certain that if he pressed her on this that there would be none tonight, Terry said, "Sure." Anyway, there were days when Lantern and Arrow both talked like Shock was still around, and Superman was always saying So-and-So from back in the day could have done a particular job with no problem, so Merina wasn't cornering the market on invisible friends.

But he wondered.

The coffee is terrible but the company is just right. She makes a face and adds more sugar while Rex hides behind his own cup. He's shy around her sometimes, and it makes her laugh because they've been friends since they were four, since that birthday party where he and she and Jay-Jay had swiped all the cookies from the mess and his parents and her father and Jay-Jay's granddaddy all yelled at them for making them worry and they were too full of giggles and chocolate chips to care. Part of her always sees him as that little boy, mouth covered in crumbs.

"What is it?" she asks, finally.

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

He looks hurt. "I'm a fantastic liar, thank you very much."

She laughs. The mess is empty but for the two of them, and she's glad. She reaches a hand out and touches his arm. "Talk to me."

"I just ... That was a close call you had today. Manta doesn't like you much."

"It's mutual. I'm fine and Manta's put away again. It's a good day." She raises her mug, and after a moment, he clicks his against it. She takes another drink of the terrible coffee and tries not to think about how her heart stopped when she saw Rex go under the waves earlier.

"Hey," she says as if she hasn't been thinking about it most of the day, "after your watch is over, do you want to go see that new ... "

Merina startled from sleep, then settled back again. Ace was downstairs barking at something, probably that same stray cat that had been hanging around the grounds these past two weeks. From another room, Bruce shouted at the dog, who quieted.

Terry's eyes had drifted open with the noise. Before he could close them again, she pressed against him, her mouth seeking his, her hands roaming elsewhere. Sleep, she needed sleep and he needed sleep, but the loss of the face in her dream had left her empty, and Terry was warm and could fill her.

He growled in her ear as she rolled him onto his back, and she answered him with a soft nip of teeth on his shoulder, making him gasp. No grace between them then, no delicacy or pattern, just bodies and surrounding them, the scent that had lingered at the edge of notice all night, a perfume she thought might have been Dana's, still fresh on the sheets, and it didn't matter, it didn't, because Terry wasn't going to be hers, and she was never going to be his, not even now, not even here.

His eyes were shut tight against her, and she closed her own and remembered the bitter flavor of bad coffee and she swallowed the name she wanted to say as they consumed one another again.

Flat on his back and everything hurt.

"You're too slow."

Terry bit back his retort. Bruce didn't take excuses during sparring, and he didn't offer Terry a hand to stand up again. The old man had been practicing lately, and even with his body falling apart around him, Bruce could be vicious when he got an edge.

Terry got back to his feet, and just managed to dodge the swipe at his legs. "Right. No more taking it easy on you, old man." Before he could ready his attack, Bruce's blows rained down on him, and then a blow from behind stunned him. The attack 'droid's stun made his teeth ache. Holding in the muscle spasms, Terry curled down and kicked out, sending the 'droid into the far wall, then grabbing Bruce's legs and knocking him off-balance to the mat.

Just don't let him break anything, Terry thought.

Bruce coughed, something deep in his chest, then said, "Better. Keep an eye behind yourself."

"I hate the rear camera. Makes me nauseous."

"It could save your life. Deal with it."

"Whatever. Are we done?"

"For now. What's your hurry?" But Terry knew from the way Bruce looked at him that he already knew. So he lied.

"I was going to get some sleep."

"Get it later. I've got an executive board meeting this afternoon, and I want you there."

Terry groaned. "You're kidding, right?"

"The board is expecting me to retire again soon. I want to remind them you're going to be there when I do."

He'd only been half-lying about the sleep, which sounded better every minute, certainly better than sitting in a stuffy room in a suit. He trudged towards the Cave's shower, wondering if he could beg off halfway through. She wouldn't mind if he was late, not as much as she'd mind if he cancelled altogether.

Bruce said, "Unless you have other plans, of course?"

Terry paused, shirt over his head. There was his out, in the hook at the end of that question, but he wasn't sure he wanted another round of lectures on why we don't date our coworkers. Privately, he thought Bruce could at least add, "Because they may turn out to be crazy," to the list.

"No. I'll come to the meeting." Terry started the water, and while he waited for it to heat up, he shouted out through the door something that had itched at his mind lately. "Have you ever heard of a guy named Warhawk?"

A long silence passed, while Terry's hand grew warmer under the water. Finally, when Terry had thought Bruce had left without hearing him, the old man said, "No."

Usually, the old man would have asked more. A "Why?" maybe, or "Should I?" Terry shook his head and stepped into the shower. It'd been a stupid question anyway.

"The trick," Fred said, "is to place the vegetables at the bottom of the pan and then set the veal brisket on top. Then you put enough water in the pan to cover the vegetables, but not the brisket."

The trip to Jennia had been uneventful and reasonably pleasant. Well, maybe not so pleasant for the purple guys with tentacles once they realized where they were being stranded. Still, Fred enjoyed the journey if just for the company. Donna never seemed to mind hearing his jokes, and she was a great tour guide as they traveled through various star systems along the way.

Now as they headed down the hallway of the Metrotower to the computer room to fill out an after action report, Donna seemed strangely quiet. It was as if she was disinterested and yet somewhat amused. "I'm boring you, aren't I, GL?" he finally asked.

She snickered. "Oh, so we're back to 'GL,' huh? Well, yes you are, Arrow, but it's okay. Go on."

"I'm hurt," he said with a hand against his chest, and got an annoyed look in return. Good old Donna, not letting him get away with anything. Well, not with much. Well, not with something that would get him in trouble later. "Anyway, I'm going to make stuffed veal when it's my turn to cook on Tuesday."

She coughed. "You know, of course, that no one around here will appreciate your culinary masterpiece, right? This is pretty much a peanut butter and jelly sandwich crowd, not a filet mignon one."

Fred smiled. "I know I'm among barbarians, sure. The important thing is that I get some practice in. Besides, everyone seems to like what I fix." He sighed. "And when things calm down around here, I can start up that restaurant."

He'd learned to cook at a young age. Ten years old and scared of the whole world after his parents were killed by Constantine Drakon of the Society of Assassins, Fred Queen had buried himself in food, and Uncle Roy's demanding, if loving, training on the bow had been the only thing to keep him from puffing up like a balloon. Cooking had become a passion with him and he knew he was very good at it. Uncle Roy had managed his sizeable trust fund until his own untimely death, and sadly added to it afterwards. When things settled down with the League, Fred would take the money and show the rest of the world how to eat.

Donna flashed a smile. "When things calm down," she agreed like she always did, because they both knew things never would. "And I'll come by your restaurant every day and you can make me that salmon dish I like."

"It's a plan."

They'd walked silently past the rec room when she stopped, looked back and said, "I left a video disc in there that I need for my lesson plan next week. Wait here. I'll only be a moment."

Fred sighed. Donna had talked about giving up her day job teaching at an elementary school (West Lincoln Elementary in Lincoln, Nebraska, though she didn't know he knew) but she loved the work too much. How she managed to juggle both jobs was beyond him. He'd been doing League work full-time for almost as long as he could remember.

"Arrow! Help!" It was Donna. A chill ran down his spine as he heard her scream.

He pulled a net arrow out of his quiver and raced back to the rec room. The automatic doors opened, but he didn't enter.

He stood outside the darkened room. "Lantern! Where are you?" he called. There was silence and then a faint weak whisper, "Over here."

Visions of the worst possible scenarios filled his head as he stepped into the room. Ambush. Trap. Uncle Roy had died quickly. Justin and Gear hadn't. "Please be okay," he said to himself, praying Donna was all right. The doors snapped closed behind and the lights came on.

"Surprise!!"

"What the -" Fred stared into a sea of smiling and laughing faces. Donna was standing next to Superman and her laugh was the loudest. A banner over their heads read: "30 Years of Justice."

Supes stepped forward. "Happy anniversary, Arrow."

Anniversary? He slapped his hand to his forehead, then put his net arrow away. He'd completely forgotten. He shook Superman's hand and then shook his head at Donna. She continued to giggle as she hugged him and then whispered, "Sorry, Fred. Happy anniversary."

Fred whispered back, "Thank you ... and you are so dead for this." As he broke the hug, he smiled at her.

Batman and Aquagirl shook his hand next and offered their congratulations. Fred acknowledged them but his eyes locked on Static. God, if this was thirty, that made it five years already. A distress call had been sent from deep space, and Gear and Shock had gone to answer it, five years ago this week. Static had lost his best friend and his only son, and he'd retired right afterward to take care of his seriously ill wife. She'd died six months later. There'd been no question of having a silver anniversary party for Fred, not then; he'd lost his own best friend when they'd buried Justin. Even now it was enough to make him wish they'd skipped the party.

Static offered his hand and a faint smile. "Congratulations, old man."

"Thanks," Fred said shaking the hand vigorously. "I'm honored that you made time to attend."

Static's smile dimmed. "I can't stay, but maybe I can hang around longer at your fiftieth anniversary." The grin Fred remembered Static being so free with in the old days returned for just for a second, then disappeared.

"I understand. I'll be looking forward to it." He watched Static shake hands with Superman and then Donna, though his face was pained as he greeted her. She and Justin had been pretty close right before the end, and seeing her here wasn't making things easier on him. As Static left the room, Fred thought to himself that life certainly hadn't been fair to that man at all.

"Congratulations."

Fred snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see Big Barda.

If Superman had been considered the patriarch of the League, no one questioned that Barda was the mom. Fred grinned at her. "I'm sure this was your idea. Thank you," he said. Mr. Miracle stood next to her and offered his hand. Fred shook it. "Did you put GL up to scaring the crap out of me?"

Barda shook her head. "Not at all. She did that on her own." She glanced down at her feet. "You remember my daughter, Avia?" Fred looked down to see a little girl hiding under her mother's cape. The child couldn't have been more than three or four. Barda prodded her forward. "Say hello, dear."

The girl moved further behind Barda's cape, clutching her mother's armored leg.

Fred knelt down on one knee and said to Avia, "Hello there. How are you?" Avia, who was dressed in armor and a cape just like her mother said nothing. Fred offered his hand to the little girl, then froze in horror as he realized he was on his knees with his hand between Barda's legs. He heard Mr. Miracle clear his throat and Fred quickly stood. He looked at Mr. Miracle sheepishly. "I guess I have that effect on women. They see me and run away."

He laughed nervously as Barda smiled at him and said, "Just those women that can't beat you up."

The nervous laugher got a little louder and he was grateful when GL grabbed his hand and led him away. "Come see your cake and gifts, Arrow," she said.

"Yes, my cake," Fred answered quickly as he waved to Avia who finally waved back. Mr. Miracle continued to frown. When they'd taken a couple of steps away, Fred whispered to Donna, "Thanks for the rescue. I thought for a moment Barda might destroy me back there."

"Nah, Mr. Miracle was the one holding the motherbox. If you had stayed around Barda's legs any longer, he might have transported you into a sun." She snorted. "I'm sure that would have ruined your weekend."

"But think of how I could have worked on my tan."

Donna led him to a table where there was a pile of gifts, two large bowls brimming with fruit punch and a large sheet cake decorated in an arrow motif with mint frosting. The other Leaguers gathered around the table and Flash started chanting, "Speech! Speech!"

He looked at the gifts. He could tell despite the obvious attempts to hide the contents, most of the presents were quivers for his arrows. He made a mental note to himself to rotate in the gift quivers over the next couple of weeks before he went back to his standard one, the one his father had used.

Fred put his hands up asking for silence. He was determined he wouldn't emotionally choke up and strangely enough by focusing on Donna, he didn't. "I want to thank you all for this," he said softly. "It certainly was a surprise. Lantern over here should get an acting award for that scream."

There was laughter as she bowed, and Fred took a deep breath before continuing. "On a serious note for a moment, as you know, the League has been my family almost from the moment I was conceived. I've had my membership card since I was fifteen and there hasn't been a day that's gone by without you guys being there for me. I can't tell you how much all this means to me. But I want you to know that you all mean more than I can ever tell you ... more than I can ever say. You guys are the best."

He swallowed hard, turned, looked at the cake and picked up the knife next to the stack of small plates. "Guess I'd better get busy cutting this before we're here all night."

Merina watched Metamorpho cross the room and head towards Terry. No. Not him, towards her as she stood next to him. Metamorpho wasn't smiling and generally that was bad news for anyone in the way. She nudged Terry who looked up as Mason approached.

"We just got a call," he said, looking at her. "Down at Metropolis pier, a forklift driver suffered a heart attack while he was unloading a ship containing explosives. The forklift drove over the side of the pier and the forks punctured the hull below the water line." Mason paused and looked around the room as if he had a secret that he wasn't sure he could share. "They need to keep the ship afloat long enough to get it unloaded ... about twenty minutes."

Merina nodded. "I understand." She put her glass down and looked at Terry. "I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you," Terry said as he set his glass down next to hers.

Mason stepped between them. "No you won't, Batman. I make the assignments around here. You stay and enjoy the party. I'll be her backup. We'll be back before you guys even miss us."

Merina secretly smiled. Next to Superman, Metamorpho had been in the League the longest. He'd been the Operations Officer for over ten years, ever since Mister Terrific had retired. It was a necessary job and one that no one else wanted. It was a difficult job to run the business end of the League and work with massively over-inflated egos, but no one did it better than the old former Marine.

She nodded at Terry signaling it would be okay and Terry grunted an acknowledgment before he left to join Fred by the cake.

"Transporters?" she asked as they hurried down the corridor.

"Negative. That glitch is back. I'll carry you." They reached an outer door. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Mason picked her up, changed the lower half of his body to helium, and propelled them quickly toward the harbor.

"So why'd you really decide to come along?" she asked as they traveled.

"Thought you might need some help."

She raised an eyebrow. "You know I don't, if it's as simple as you described."

He smiled. It was a charming grin that radiated warmth. "Humor me. I get tired of being in the Watchtower all the time. Today, I just wanted to get out of the office." She reflected he might be thinking about the past today, too. Way back when she'd looked through everyone's records right after she first came to the surface, she'd read that his wife had died around the time Arrow had joined up. Another alien raid. They'd had no children. His life was the League as much as Arrow's was, as much as all their lives were.

The harbor was below them now and Mason carried her out far enough and low enough so that she could safety dive into the water.

"Considered yourself humored," she said as she loosened herself from his grip and let herself fall. It was such an exhilarating feeling to be in the water. The way it surrounded her, the way she became one with it, was something she could never adequately describe to Warhawk no matter how many time she tried.

Warhawk? Why did she think that name when she clearly meant Terry.

Back to business. She issued a mental call to a pod of sperm whales traveling outside Metropolis on their way to the Arctic. The whales responded quickly. As they approached, she directed a whale to get on each side of the ship and lift it above the waterline and push it against the pier. She raised a wave of water that carried her to the landing. Turning to the dock leader, she said, "You have fifteen minutes. Not one second longer."

"You heard her," he shouted out to his people. "Fifteen minutes. Now move it."

There was a scurry of activity on the dock as crews manned cranes and forklifts to get the explosive cargo unloaded. Merina stepped off the wave onto the slick wood and joined Mason near the ship.

He smiled. "Very much like your father."

She returned his smile, but it faded quickly. "Except he would have probably given them ten minutes."

Mason chuckled and nodded. "Yup, that sounds like him."

She frowned. "The longer the whales are in this shallow water, the greater the chances are they will be injured ... or catch an infection." She paused and gritted her teeth. "I should have said ten minutes."

Mason was silent for a moment then he shouted at the dock leader. "Hey you, hurry up. You got five minutes left." Then he turned to Merina, "Believe me when I say I know what it is to operate out of someone's shadow." She grinned weakly at him. Then she heard a loud noise that sounded like a million glass bottles breaking all at once.

Someone yelled, "Look out!"

In an instant Merina caught a glimpse of the cable from the crane that was offloading the explosives whipping toward her and then her world went black. She heard what sounded like a clang of metal and Mason grunting in pain and then just as suddenly the light came back to her world.

Mason lay on the ground at her feet as the dock leader came running up to her. She knelt down next to him, "Metamorpho! Metamorpho, are you okay?"

"It was the most amazing thing I ever saw," the dock leader said. "One of the cables on the crane snapped and dropped that box of explosives. Metamorpho here turned into a slide and caught the box and at the same time he turned into lead or something and wrapped himself around you." The man took a deep breath. "Lady, if he hadn't done that the cable would have cut you clean in half."

"Actually it was iron," Mason said as he stood up. "I was afraid the cable would cut through lead."

The dock leader snorted, "Mister, I don't care if it was silly putty. You saved us all. Thank you." Then he turned to Merina, "And lady, if I was you, I'd find a special way to thank this man because he saved your behind big time." He made a waving gesture. "We're done here. Thank you both."

Merina looked at Mason. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Don't you have some whales you need to get back on the road?"

She grinned. "I do. Thank you for saving my life, Metamorpho."

"Don't give it another thought. And you can call me Rex."

What was it that Terry said all the time? Oh yes. A goose stepped on her grave.

Terry checked the time. He needed to head back home soon. Gotham's streets wouldn't stay quiet because he was at a party, not when it was for a Wayne-Powers function, and not when it was for a friend.

Flash was telling the end of a joke: "And she said, 'Fifty bucks, same as in town!'" Fred roared with laughter while Anissa rolled her eyes and walked away.

Five minutes. He'd give Merina five more minutes to get back to the Watchtower. He'd make a reasonably casual mention of going back home, and an even more casual reminder of the smuggling case she was helping him with back in Gotham. Bruce had called earlier with a lead, though he'd said to wait until nightfall to follow it up. The breed of mutants used as muscle in this gang couldn't come out in sunlight.

Dark had fallen half an hour ago.

Bruce would glare at him for stalling, especially because Bruce would know why Terry was stalling, although he'd only know half of it. Bruce hadn't yet figured out Terry's competition with Merina's imaginary boyfriend, who Terry somehow knew would wait for her to get back from her mission with Metamorpho.

"Jerk," Terry said to himself.

"It wasn't that bad of a joke," said Superman, smiling around his glass of punch.

"Not Flash. Warhawk."

Superman set his glass down. "You know her?"

Her?

~~~~~

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Chapter Two
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"You lied to me."

Bruce turned around in his chair. The study was dark, and the hour was late, and Terry was sore from the beating he'd taken at the hands of the smugglers, but none of that mattered as much as the words that had been echoing in his head all night.

"I told you where to find Callahan."

"Not about Callahan. Warhawk. Superman told me all about her. Said you two used to be friends."

"Your point?"

"You said you didn't know anyone by that name."

"No. I said I didn't know a 'guy' by that name. Warhawk's a woman."

Terry spat out a breath. "You're a real piece of work sometimes, you know that, Bruce?"

"Just coming that to conclusion now?"

"Don't screw around with me. What if I needed that name for a case?"

"You didn't. She's been off-planet for decades, and she's not coming back."

"Then why didn't you just say so?"

"Because you didn't ask."

"You keep saying 'she's.' Superman said he hadn't seen her in years. Is she still alive?"

Bruce nodded once. "She's not using that name anymore. She goes through names every decade or two. Last I heard, she was back to using her real name."

"Hol. Superman said."

"Superman dwells on the past too much."

"Did they date?"

Bruce blinked in surprise, and Terry marked a score on the card he kept in his head. "No. They never did. And before you ask, I never dated her, either."

"Then why all the secrecy?" Terry threw up his arms. "You and Superman both get weird about the old days."

"You didn't need to know."

"You didn't even know why I was asking."

"Yes, I do."

Several scenarios played out in Terry's mind as the anger boiled inside of him. "So do you listen outside my door at night or did you just plant a camera in the room?" Bruce stared back without blinking. "I can't believe you don't trust me."

"I trust you. I can't afford to trust your girlfriends, and neither can you. The mission ... "

"The mission doesn't mean I cut myself off from the world just because you did."

"Anyone you bring into our world is in danger! Any of them could bring this down around us!"

"Then you should be happy Merina's a costume. She's used to keeping secrets." And there it was, open between them now.

"Break it off with her, Terry. Do it quickly and cleanly. You don't want ... "

"Here we go again."

Bruce said more loudly, "You don't want to be involved with a teammate. It won't end well. It never does."

"Arrow's folks got married," Terry replied, just because he could.

"Arrow's parents died. She will hurt you, or you will hurt her, and you will still have to rely on each other for your lives and someone will be killed because you can't keep your pants zipped."

The certainty in his voice always nettled Terry the most, but he also remembered the faraway look on Superman's face as he'd talked about Hol.

"Who died? Back in the old League. Who was killed when someone got too close?"

Bruce was much better than Superman at hiding his thoughts away, and still a shiver went through Terry as the old man said, "Everyone."

Donna's shoulders ached. She flexed her arms and leaned back trying to find a comfortable sitting position in a chair that was too old and too worn. With all the money Metamorpho kept preaching that the League must save during his financial meetings, she hoped a new chair for the computer room was in the budget.

She'd found the file in the archives that she was looking for: Shayera Hol, alias Hawkgirl, alias Warhawk. The file said she was Thanagarian, a founding member of the League, part of the resistance against the Thanagarian invasion. She married another League member named Carter Hall and left the League, and Earth, shortly after Hall's death.

Something was wrong. There was information here, but not enough of the right information. There was no reference to any missions this Hol person had been on.

Anywhere. Or ever.

It was as if she'd showed up one day to found the League and then quietly left within a year of her husband's death without ever having done anything. Or someone had gone back into the files and made it look that way.

Donna didn't notice Fred walk in until he pulled up a chair next to hers. She smiled as he sat down. He glanced up at the screen then back to her. "Doing some research?"

Donna's smile faded. "Batman asked me. Did Aquagirl tell you about the weird dreams she's been having?" He shook his head. "She keeps dreaming about some guy named Warhawk. She's told me all about him. Turns out, there was a real Warhawk in the League. Superman knew her. Batman wants me to track down her current location."

Fred studied the pictures of the woman on the screen for a moment. "She can't still be alive, can she?" he said softly. "She's been gone more than fifty years."

"Strangely, there's nothing of real substance here," Donna said, shaking her head. "But no mention of her after she left, and you're right, it was more than fifty years ago." She stood and stretched, taking a deep breath and flexing her shoulders again. Her shoulders made a loud popping sound and Fred laughed. Donna smirked. "Don't laugh, I'm old." She paused for a half a second before adding, "Just like you."

She sat down again in the chair and brought her hands to her lips. "Tell me about Shayera Hol or Warhawk or Hawkgirl within the last fifty years," she said.

"I think Dad might have mentioned someone ... "

Donna's ring glowed in response. "Standby," the ring answered back in Donna's own voice. "Standby. No additional information on Shayera Hol or Warhawk or Hawkgirl in sector 2814 beyond a reported medical treatment for a Warhawk forty-four years ago."

"Oh. Sorry," Fred said sheepishly. "I thought you were talking to me." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest and sighed.

"What was the nature of the medical treatment?" Donna said as she reached under her chair and pulled out a gift wrapped package, which she pushed toward Fred. The look of delight on his face as he took the box warmed her heart. She'd seen the disappointment on his face when he'd surveyed the mountain of presents at his party.

"Left ocular enucleation," the ring answered.

Donna frowned. "Consult the Central Power Battery," she said. "Provide me with any available data on Shayera Hol or Warhawk or Hawkgirl within the last fifty years outside of sector 2814."

"Standby...Standby. Shayera Hol, also known as Warhawk and Hawkgirl. Native of the planet Thanagar located in the star system Polaris. This system is incorporated into sector 3559. The Green Lantern responsible for this sector is Haly-Mote. Shall I contact the responsible Lantern?"

"No. Continue." Then she quickly added, "Wait. What is her current location?"

"Unknown. Last known contact with a Green Lantern was in sector 872 six months ago. The Lantern responsible for this sector is Tor-Chal. Shall I contact the responsible Lantern?"

"Wow," Fred exclaimed. He'd ripped the wrapping off her present and held up the gift box. "Just what I wanted. I've been looking at this set of knives for weeks. How'd you know?"

Donna brought her finger to her lips, looked at Fred and said, "Shhh." She wrote "872" on a slip of paper in front of her and then said, "No. End inquiry." She turned back to Fred who was all smiles at the eight piece knife set from Germany. "Don't act like it's a surprise that I stalk you," she answered. It was hard not to laugh at Fred and she guessed that he must have been as funny as all get out when he was a child at Christmas.

"I just figured that any good chef should have at least one decent set of knives," she continued. "And I know if left to your own devices you'd spend all of your money making a leaf-raking arrow or something silly like that rather than the stuff you really want."

Fred nervously bounced his leg as he stared at the knives. "You know," he started and then he paused, looked into her eyes and said, "Thank you, Donna. This means a lot to me. It really does."

He leaned closer and she thought for a moment that he would kiss her. Then he seemed to realize where he was and covered with a hand through his hair and a smile. To Donna, it felt like Justin's ghost had walked between them, and not for the first time.

"I know," she said after a minute, for something to say. "Now I have to get back to work. If you're going to stay you have to be quiet, okay?"

"Like a church mouse," Fred said as he removed one of the knives from the package.

Donna stood. "Contact the Green Lantern of ...." She looked down at the paper in front of her and then added, "Sector 872." After a moment, a holographic image appeared in front of her. It was a four-armed Green Lantern named Tor-Chal. She'd encountered him before.

"Greetings, Green Lantern," Donna said. "I require your assistance on a matter most urgent."

"Greetings, Green Lantern," Tor-Chal replied. "How may I assist you?"

Donna frowned. "I'm looking for a female Thanagarian. She used to operate under the name Warhawk, though that was approximately fifty years ago. Can you help me locate her?"

He frowned. "Lantern, do you have any idea how many habitable worlds are in my sector? You want me to find one female Thanagarian out of perhaps two hundred billion beings using only the name you have from almost fifty years ago?"

Donna bit her lip. Tor-Chal was right. It was a tough assignment and it would be an expensive one. "Her real name is Shayera Hol, though she's probably not using that alias either. If it helps, she has no left eye."

Tor-Chal's eyes narrowed and he was silent for an uncomfortably long time. "I may know of a woman," he finally said. "But her name is not Warhawk. If it is who I think, she and her band of mercenaries are well established in this sector."

"Is she a criminal?" Hol wouldn't be the first Leaguer to go rogue, Donna thought. She considered that Tor-Chal placed emphasis on the word, 'may.'

"This woman is not wanted by the law at the moment, but that is only because she ensures her operations are on the periphery of being legal."

Donna exhaled sharply. "Green Lantern, I understand the difficulty of my request, but I will not meet with just anyone. It must be the Thanagarian who was Shayera Hol. Can you find her and set up a meeting with her for me?"

Tor-Chal was silent, then he smiled slightly. "There is much risk in doing this, Green Lantern." He slowly shook his head. "It could be very dangerous."

There it was. Donna pursed her lips together. "I understand the risk to you ... and to me. I would not ask if I didn't think it was important. If you are successful in arranging a meeting with the one I seek, you may name your price."

Fred dropped the knife he was holding and was now looking at her.

Tor-Chal nodded. "I will contact you with a time and location. Tor-Chal out." The holographic image faded.

Fred stood. "What did you mean when you said he could name his price?"

Donna didn't make eye contact with Fred. "It means exactly what you think it means, Fred. We're all adults here. This is how we do things in the Corps. We barter and everything is on the table." She toyed with her ring. She knew the history, knew things hadn't always been this way. The Civil War had changed everything. The Guardians and their defenders had lost, and the old ways had ended. Favors begat favors. Batman and Aquagirl both were going to owe her big for this one.

There was silence. She looked up to see Fred looking at the floor. She sighed. He would never understand the personal sacrifices Green Lanterns sometimes had to make if they wanted to accomplish anything outside their own sectors.

"Glad you liked the knives," she said as she turned and walked out of the room.

Terry wasn't going to admit to the nausea, particularly when the other two seemed to be coping so well, but he hated boom tubes. Using the coordinates Lantern had gotten from her contact, they'd landed on a dusty little planet circling a distant but hot blue sun. The atmospheric adjustors inside his suit hummed, audible only to his ears, as they filtered out the worst of the dust and tried to compensate for the heat.

Beside him, GL's greenish aura was a comfort, but Merina wasn't even wearing shoes. The hunted look he'd gotten used to these last several months had been replaced with another expression on her face. Anticipation, maybe, or fear.

"This better be worth it," Terry said. "I've been in garbage dumps nicer than this."

"Is that why you never invite me over to your place?" GL asked.

They went inside. The bar lived down to his expectations. In the corners, he spied at least six or seven different alien species sitting at tables with drinks that fizzed and fumed. There was music coming from somewhere behind the bar, flat and out of rhythm, just loud enough to cut like a toothache.

There were two Thanagarians in the room. The woman, the one they'd come to see, sat facing the bar, her left side against the wall. The male sat behind her and towards them, flanking her. A bodyguard, Terry guessed.

"I said to only bring one person with you," said Hol. "Can't you count?" Her voice cut through the sounds of the bar, though no one else reacted. How many of the goons around them were on her payroll?

Terry went to retort but Lantern grabbed his shoulder. This wasn't their show. Merina glanced back at Terry. "I can. He can't. But he can wait outside if you're afraid of him."

The woman smirked. "Sit down."

Merina took the seat opposite Hol. Lantern dragged Terry to a table close by, just as far away as the other Thanagarian, then gargled something in an alien tongue he didn't recognize. The bartender brought over two mugs of a brown liquid Terry had no intention of even sniffing, much less drinking.

"You're Arthur's girl."

"Yes."

"And you know who I am."

"I know who you were."

Terry watched the male Thanagarian. He wore a mask that matched Hol's: simple, graceful feathers off to either side of his face, and eyes that gave nothing away. The music blared and Terry felt the beginnings of a migraine.

It was then that he noticed that all of the patrons in the bar were looking at them. His stomach groaned as the uneasy feeling came back while he speculated that perhaps everyone in the bar was in the woman's employ.

"What do you want?"

"I have questions for you." Ah damn. Up until now, Merina had put on her royal act, self-assured and completely composed. But Terry heard her voice catch, and Hol certainly did too.

"Lucky for you, I deal in information among other things. But questions cost money. I can't help noticing that you didn't bring any."

Merina didn't respond at first. The truth was, GL was the only one who carried any kind of credit, but they all knew that Hol just had to name a too-high price.

"I'm calling in a favor."

"Do I owe you one?"

"You owed my father. He was kind to you when almost everyone else cast you out." Thank you, Superman, for running at the mouth when prompted.

Hol's mouth tightened. "One question."

Merina shut her eyes. For a moment, Terry wanted her to ask about the weather, ask about babies, ask about anything. He wanted to get up and leave this crappy bar and its crazy patrons and go home and make love and never hear one particular name again as long as he lived.

"When you left the League for the second time and came into space, you took a new name. I'm guessing it's because most of Thanagar wanted you dead, and I'm also guessing that's why you still don't keep the same name for long. I don't really care. But the name you went by once was Warhawk, and I want to know why."

If Terry hadn't been keeping an eye on the male, he never would have noticed him twitch. Hol meanwhile turned milk-pale under her mask.

"It was a joke," Hol said. "A joke on myself. Someone said the name to me once." She took a quick sip of her drink. For someone who dealt in subterfuge, she covered badly. As she set the mug down, she recovered. "If you ask me, that was a terrible way to waste a favor."

"Who said it to you?"

Hol's jaw tightened again, but she was no longer caught off-guard. "One favor, one question. Sorry."

"Why do you want to know?" asked the male, the first he'd spoken. Hol turned around to glare at him, but he gazed serenely back at her. Hol dropped the stare first and sulked into her drink. Terry bit back his own smile. The male wasn't her bodyguard, or at least, that wasn't all he was.

"Dreams," Merina said, and that distracted tone was back. "I've had dreams. There was someone named Warhawk. A man, not you, but he has eyes like yours. I dreamed about you, too," she added. "But he's the one I need to find. I think he needs my help."

The knuckles on Hol's hand were white as she gripped her mug. "He's a figment of your imagination. Somebody's sick idea of a joke. Sorry, sweetheart."

"You do know him." Hope lit Merina's face, and something else that Terry didn't like at all.

"He's dead," Hol said. "And as far as you're concerned, so am I. Get out of my bar."

At the word "dead," Merina deflated. Terry broke the unstated rule and got up from his chair. He saw the male Thanagarian remove a weapon from his belt, but GL was right there and would probably buy them time if this turned ugly.

"Come on," he said. "Time to go. She's not going to tell us anything." Was he a little happy at the news that You Know Who wasn't real?

"He can't be dead," said Merina, more confused than upset. "He's ... No."

"Not big on reality, is she?" Hol asked Terry, and for the first time he saw her left eye, or at least the slick black cap where it ought to be. Her other eye, behind the lens in her mask, watched him coldly. Up this close, he could see the scars on her chin and neck, and a long, twisted line of scar tissue down one withered arm. The woman in the files had been beautiful, her green eyes sparkling from the handful of photographs.

"She's right," Terry said to Merina. "Shayera Hol died years ago. Let's get out of here." She stood up and stared at Hol.

"Before the trouble starts," suggested the Thanagarian male. Terry had never even heard his name.

Merina let him steer her out of the bar. Lantern came out behind them, her personal force field shielding them from a parting attack. Not that he was expecting one. Hol might not have much in the way of honor left, but she'd have no use for killing them right now.

Lantern keyed the way home into their borrowed motherbox, and called up a boom tube home. Even as it roared to life, Terry felt his stomach start to lurch in anticipation.

When the boom tube disappeared from view, Shayera let out her breath and waited for him to join her at the table. As soon as his hands slipped over hers, her jitters melted away.

"What the hell?" she said, not really asking him.

"Will you be all right?"

"I will be. Did you read them?" He nodded. "And?"

"You're not going to like it."

Bruce was talking to someone. Terry paused at the top of the stairway. That there was another voice in the Cave was astonishing enough. That Terry felt he almost recognized it was next to impossible.

" ... as we could," the voice said in what Terry felt was a diplomatic measure.

"I didn't think she'd like having visitors," said Bruce.

Terry cat-pawed his way down the stairs, and saw a large green face taking over the entire screen of the computer monitor. Bruce was talking to someone long-distance. Extremely long-distance.

"You could have warned us," said the green man reproachfully.

"You haven't called in five years," Bruce said in the same tone. "I didn't know where to find you. And I didn't think either of you kept in contact with the Lanterns anymore."

"We had a run-in with ours six months ago. Your new Lantern is quiet." Terry's memory finally threw up a name: J'onzz. Another one of the founding members of the League. A telepath, according to the records.

"I wouldn't know. And unless she's secretly planning on betraying the League to someone else, I don't need to know."

"She's not the one you need to worry about. Nor is your protégé."

"I don't worry about his loyalty. Tell me about Aquagirl." A bad feeling grew in Terry's gut. Had Bruce arranged for them to get scanned by this guy? Did he distrust Merina that much?

"She believes she's losing her mind. I'm not sure she's wrong."

"But?"

"You know what she was asking about."

"Warhawk. The other one. Tell me it's a coincidence. Tell me her father told her about Shayera when she was a baby."

"I'd love to. But the face in her mind is the same face that was in yours and in John's."

Bruce let out a breath. "That's not possible."

"Nevertheless. There were other faces as well, none that I recognized but to her they are as real as Warhawk."

"Did you tell Shayera?"

"Of course. She's taking it as well as you might expect."

"Just don't let her kill anyone until after she sobers up." He paused. "How are the two of you doing?"

"We're alive. Her remaining eye is starting to bother her but she won't see a doctor about it."

"She could come here."

"No." That had the finality of "old argument" all over it, and Bruce didn't press.

"Tell her I said hello."

"If you see Clark, give him our best. I'm afraid we didn't have a chance to say so when the others were here."

Bruce nodded. "Stay safe."

The Martian smiled, and then his face melted. Where he'd been blocky and green, now he was a masked Thanagarian, the male in the bar with Hol. He raised a hand in farewell, and was gone.

When the transmission closed, Terry stepped out of the shadows. "Bruce?"

Bruce lowered his head and smiled tightly. "You should have come out while he was still on the channel. He probably would have apologized for her."

"That was J'onzz, right? The Martian."

"J'onn."

"And they're ... "

"Old. And lonely. And sometimes the best thing you have is to have someone around who knows what it's like to be you." That was probably as close as Bruce was ever going to get to saying he understood Terry's current relationship, and Terry accepted it with a nod.

"Must be weird, though. I mean, he reads minds, right?"

"She's the only one he never could. If he'd told us as much, we might have all been spared a lot of grief."

Too many questions, and Bruce was never one for answering. But there was just one he needed to know. "Who is Warhawk? The other one?"

Bruce turned away. Terry felt the angry words ready to pour out. Bruce had his telepath friend read their minds but when it came to a simple question he didn't like....

Bruce sat down and indicated the chair across from him. Confused and annoyed, Terry flung himself into the other chair.

"Terry, did I ever tell you about the first time I met you?"

"I was there. The Jokerz were following me."

"Not then. When I was young. It all started with a man named David Clinton."

Terry listened.

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Three
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anissa pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at the kids. Okay, so they were both in their twenties now, but as far as she was concerned, Aquagirl would always be Arthur's youngest, and Flash would be Wally's grandson.

"Oh, come on," Flash said. "You gotta tell me."

"I do not," said Aquagirl, a blush starting at the back of her neck. He'd been wheedling her about her weird dreams since their shift had started.

"Enough," said Anissa at last. "I don't want to hear another word about this today."

"Fine with me," said Aquagirl.

"But it's kind of cool," said Flash. "'Rina had a dream about this old lady, and then she met her. Who else are we going to meet?"

"Nobody," said Anissa.

"But they could all be real."

"She said he was dead," Aquagirl said, turning from her console and resting her arms.

"But you remember the guy, right?" said Flash. "Well, maybe he was alive. Maybe he still is, and Hawkgirl isn't telling." Anissa remembered her father mentioning that name a few times. Those were also the few times she remembered her dad swearing. He'd carried the scars he'd gotten from the Thanagarians to his grave. When they'd captured him, they'd put him in a jail cell with the rest of the "agitators" from Metropolis and tried to convince the humans they were working in their best interests by taking over the planet.

"Maybe you've been brainwashed," said Anissa, mostly to herself.

"Hey, yeah!" said Flash, zipping past her to the computer. "That could be it! You were kidnapped and brainwashed, and now you have memories of someone you met while you were being held."

Aquagirl shook her head. "But I remember other things, too. Batman was there, and Superman."

"Maybe they were all brainwashed," said Flash.

Anissa asked, "What are you doing?"

"Checking the records to see if there are any aberrations. Someone who went through all the trouble of wiping our memories might have slipped up wiping the data files."

Anissa raised her eyebrow and glanced at Aquagirl, whose mouth was open. Coming from Jay-Jay, this was pretty high level thinking. Hadn't Lantern said something about the Hol woman's records looking suspicious?

Moments later, Flash let out a grunt of disappointment. "Man, they sure were thorough."

"Who was?" asked Batman, coming in to Ops. He was another kid too, but he carried himself like an actual adult.

"The people who wiped 'Rina's memory," said Flash.

"Flash had a theory," said Anissa. "It was wrong."

"Hey, just because I can think outside the box ... "

"You think outside the solar system, Flash." She was rewarded with a glare and a stuck-out tongue. Batman cleared his throat.

"Aquagirl, can I have a word with you?"

She looked at Anissa. "Do you need me here, Thunder?"

"Just don't leave the tower." Anissa watched the pair as they went. She'd have to chat with the girl later. Aquagirl didn't have a mom or sister to talk with about certain things, and the last thing any of them needed was a baby in the Watchtower.

"I want you to run a scan of Sector Twenty-Six," Anissa told Flash as she turned back to her console. "Someone called in a sighting of something that could have been a splicer or could have been a Moggian. I want to know which before we send someone in."

Flash grumbled and went to work. Anissa sat back another moment in thought. What if they had been brainwashed and the computer files changed? How would they know?

She shivered, and then returned to her work.

"Tell me more," said Terry, as soon as the door closed.

"Not you, too."

"I mean it. Tell me about the things you've seen. Tell me about ... you know who." The way he tightened his jaw as he said it warmed her heart, and she only just stopped herself from kissing him.

"He's strong, and he's brave," she said, closing her eyes and picturing Warhawk's face. "He's got a short temper. He's trying to live up to an ideal he thinks he can't achieve, and as smart as he is, he never figures out that it's the attempt that's important, not reaching it." She opened her eyes again. "He reminds me of you."

"What's his real name?"

"Rex." Terry's mouth quirked again as she said it.

"Do you know his last name?"

She thought back, then shook her head. "I should, but I don't."

"What about the others? The ones you think we should know."

She bit her lip and then said, "There's a boy, much younger than the rest of us, a Green Lantern. He's not from America. I want to say he's from China, but that's not right, either."

"What about Micron?"

"He has a child. A baby girl, I think. He loves his family. He's always talking about his sisters, his nieces and nephews, his mother. He thinks the sun rises and sets on his wife. Why do you want to know about them?"

"A conversation I had with the old man."

"About what?"

"I want to collect more information before I go into that. Tell me more about Micron's powers."

"Want a mocha or anything while I'm there?" Flash asked.

"No," Anissa answered. "I'm good. But you know what? Do me a favor and see if Aquagirl and Batman are in the cafeteria. You don't need to say anything to them if they are. Just let me know if you see them."

"Checking up on them, huh? Of course you realize that if they're not in the cafeteria, it doesn't mean they've left the building, right?"

She frowned. "Don't you have to get coffee or something?" It wasn't a question.

Flash grinned and zipped out the door almost knocking Barda over as she entered the ops center.

Barda gently shook her head as she stared at the empty doorway where Flash had been an instant before. "Don't tell me. Mocha break, right?"

"Oh yes," Thunder confirmed. "You're here late, aren't you?" It had seemed to her that in recent years either Barda or Superman were there all the time.

"Just catching up on the filing. Anything I should know about before I call it a day?"

"Negative. Nothing going on that the local law enforcement can't handle. In fact ...."

She stopped as her earpiece crackled. Barda put her finger to her ear.

"Say again," Thunder said as she adjusted the audio gain on the console and tried to identify the owner of the earpiece. "Say again. You came in garbled."

Her heart went cold as she suddenly heard a child's scream in her earpiece, then a man's voice weakly say, "Vundabar."

What happened next was a blur, Thunder would later tell Batman, as Barda screamed in a voice filled with terror, "Scott!" In an instant, she'd whipped out her motherbox, called up a boom tube, and ran into the portal as fast as Anissa had ever seen anyone run.

Scott? Oh Lord, was that Scott Free? That meant the child was ....

Anissa called Superman.

Sleep didn't come easy these days anymore. It hadn't since Lois died. But here in the Fortress, as he stood in front of the glass cages of the alien creatures he'd collected, there was a sense of calm.

But Clark had learned a long time ago that calm was just a temporary state of being. It was a state that the Starro creature in front of him never seemed to attain. He was watching the agitated animal fling itself against the glass observation wall again and again when he got the familiar buzz in his ear.

"Go ahead," he said. It was on his private channel.

"Superman. Thunder here. We've got a situation." She paused. "I think Mister Miracle's in trouble. Barda's already gone to help."

He frowned. "I'm on my way. Where are they?"

His breath caught when Thunder replied, "I can't get a fix on Barda, but Mister Miracle is in Bailey, New Hampshire. He's not answering his earpiece."

"Give me a beacon to his location!" Clark leaped in the air and flew out of his underwater entrance to the Fortress. Once clear of the watery access, he flew at super speed south toward the northeast corner of the United States. In an instant, he was hovering over Nova Scotia and pressing his finger to his ear.

"Transport me to Mister Miracle's location. Now!" Without any acknowledgment from Thunder, Clark materialized in the living room of a house.

What he saw stayed with him the rest of his life.

He stood in a pool of blood. There was a child at his feet, blood leaking from her lifeless body.

Avia?

No. Not Avia. The hair coloring was wrong.

At the child's feet was a black shape with no substance, like a shadow, its sticky green body fluids mingling with that of the child's. Clark held his breath and closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that he could make the scene disappear just by wishing.

It didn't.

"Scott! Barda!" he yelled. "Answer ..."

He saw Scott. He was slumped over in a corner, his arms outstretched covering and protecting the small broken body beneath him.

"Oh, God. No," Clark whispered. He floated over to the body covered with huge animal bite marks. "Barda! Where are you?"

Almost as if in answer to his plea, there was the signature whine followed by the opening of a boom tube. Down the gateway, Barda slowly walked, her armor covered with blood around her arms and legs. There was a splattering of red and green fluids on her face. She looked at Clark with eyes that didn't seem to recognize him.

"Barda," he said softly, approaching her slowly as the tube closed. She walked past him without speaking, stopping only when she stood over the body of the other child with the black thing at her feet.

She looked back at Clark with no recognition in her face then back at the mangled body at her feet. "Her name was Malice Vundabar. Her uncle is ... was Virman Vundabar." Then in a surprise motion, Barda blasted the child with her Mega-Rod. "Die!"

"Barda!" Clark yelled as he rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her, attempting to keep her arms locked to her side.

He wasn't prepared for her to blast him with her Mega-Rod as she screamed, "Back off!" The discharge from the weapon threw Clark against the wall. Then as if she had just swatted a fly, she calmly stood over the body and said softly, "That's her demon pet, Chessure at her feet." She paused. "You know, Kal, this is all my fault. Scott told me not to kill Virman ten years ago, but I didn't listen to him." Suddenly, she fired her weapon into the corpse again. "I should have listened."

Clark knew that he could move at super speed and take the Mega-Rod out of her hand, but Barda made the decision for him. She put her weapon away and walked over to the corner where Scott and Avia lay. She knelt down beside them. Clark approached her and started to kneel down.

"Don't you touch them!" she snapped. Clark froze and stood. Maybe this was some New God ritual that she had to perform. His eyes widened as she sat down in the pooled blood and rolled Scott over so that his head was in her lap. Then she gently lifted Avia so that the broken child had her head on Barda's shoulder. This was no New God ritual. This was a parent mourning the loss of a child, a wife mourning her husband.

"It's okay, my beloved," she said softly to Scott gently rocking his head in her lap. "Granny Goodness and Lashina will never bother us again. They won't bother anyone ever again." She pressed Avia closer to her. "We're going to go home now, baby. Mommy's going to take you and Daddy home, my precious."

She looked up at Clark. The tears flowed from her eyes. They ran from Clark's too. "They're okay, Kal. Really they are. You see, they're just tired and need to rest a bit. After all, they're not like you and me. They don't have the stamina for the long journey like we do, right?"

Clark nodded and sat down on the floor a few feet away from her. "Right, Barda," he whispered. He swallowed hard. "But we'll see them again at the end, won't we?"

She nodded, then broke down as Clark called Thunder.

Terry fidgeted with his black armband until Bruce stepped on his foot. The old man had come to the Watchtower in the Batwing today. He always came for the funerals.

"Scott was my friend," Thunder was saying amid tears as she stood at the small podium. That was what they all said: He was my friend. He saved my life more than once. I'm going to miss him. Terry could recite it by heart. They'd said the same things at Gear and Shock's funeral, at Captain Marvel's, at Koriand'r's. They'd say the same at Terry's. Bruce must have heard the words a hundred times by now. He'd said them often enough.

Merina sat on Terry's other side. She held a handkerchief in one hand, but wasn't crying yet. When her turn came to speak, she'd just shaken her head and passed her turn to Static.

"I'm going to miss him," said Thunder. When she stepped down from the podium, she went to Barda and hugged her fiercely.

Too many funerals, too many dead friends, too many dead children of friends. Bad enough that every funeral reminded him of his dad's. How much worse was it on Bruce? Barbara had been the one to tell Terry about Grayson's murder, about Drake's suicide. How many deaths did the old man relive every time a new casket was lowered into the ground?

Flash spoke next, then Arrow. "He was my friend." "He saved my life." No words for Avia, he noticed. For some things, none of them had any words.

After, they stood before the wall of stars. Golden seals, some bearing names, some just initials, glittered like a broken galaxy. No one spoke as Superman flew up and affixed Scott's star next to Orion's.

Terry read off the names he could. Merina's dad was up there. Shock and Gear had stars. Both of Arrow's parents. Thunder's father. Nightwing. Too many Lanterns. Far too many names.

"Why does that one have an asterisk?"

Bruce followed where Terry pointed. "Deadman. Boston died before he joined the League. It's a long story."

"Aren't they all?" said Superman.

Bruce frowned. "Aquagirl?"

"Hm?" Merina was looking at her father's star.

"Tell me about the Green Lantern in your dream."

The coat Merina had borrowed from Donna did nothing to keep out the cold. Donna had constructed a ring bubble to bring them to this high, cold, lonely place, but etiquette said they had to walk to the front door. Donna had her own field keeping her warm, and Fred and Terry were competing to see who could pretend best that he wasn't cold.

Superman didn't even shiver, but his mind was probably on poor Barda. Static had come to the Watchtower to sit with her and provide the shoulder for Barda that she'd been for him five years ago.

Merina kept her eyes focused on Superman as she followed the path up towards the temple. Red and blue and yellow splashed like a beacon through the slicing wind that tried to rob her of sight. Red and blue, but her mind kept playing tricks, telling her he ought to be in starker colors.

Everything was wrong. It was like viewing the world through colored lenses, each eye seeing different things. All through the funeral, she had watched the place where Scott's star would be affixed, and she'd known that his star had been there for years. In one ear of her memory, she could hear Avia laughing as she ran down a corridor, and in the other, only silence, as if the girl had never been.

How did she even begin to comfort her friend when half her mind screamed that Barda was mourning shadows? And what did that mean for the shadows in her own mind?

"You holding up okay?" Donna asked her, and Merina quelled a small flame of disappointment that Terry hadn't been the one to say something. Maybe he'd said enough already. He must have told the old man everything.

"Fine. I'm just cold."

Donna smirked. "You think this is bad? I got caught in an avalanche not far from here. That was cold."

"Yeah," said Fred. "Right up 'till you blasted your way out with your ring."

"That was when I got the ring. The Lantern before me was killed in the avalanche. The ring came to me and I managed to free us from the snow."

"Aislynn?" said Superman, his voice almost lost in the wind.

"Yes."

Merina heard him mutter something about having lost too many good people, and then they rounded the corner and saw the temple's tall wooden gates. A single guard watched them approach, hunched deep within his own fur-lined coat but unsurprised at their presence.

"This humble one bids you stop," said the guard.

Superman paused, and the others fanned around him. "We seek an audience with the Master."

"So the Master said," said the guard. "He said five would come. He said you would try to bring women into the temple."

Merina frowned at the tone in his voice. The amusement on Fred's face didn't help, though he dropped that when Donna punched him in the arm. Out of habit, Merina began to coax life into the water crystals surrounding them, swirling them gently.

The guard held up a hand. "We know who you are and what you can do," he said, nodding to Merina and Donna individually. "We have our rules, as you have yours. The Master is making his way here."

"We'll wait," said Superman, folding his arms.

A warm, green glow surrounded them. Donna had put up a field to keep the snow and the cold at bay. Another shiver went through Merina, and then she began to warm up. The field didn't extend to the guard, who remained impassive out in the wind.

The gates creaked open, and with a sigh, Donna dropped the bubble again.

A wizened little man, every inch the sage Merina had been expecting, walked calmly over to where they stood, unaffected by the weather. Behind him three priests waited as patiently as lilies.

"Superman," said the Master, in a greeting as chilly as the air.

Superman bowed his head. "It's been a long time, Master."

"Not, perhaps, long enough. When last we met, and Boston Brand left this realm forever, you were not a killer."

"Things change, Master." The note of reverence in his voice was just offset by the pique. "We've lost many friends since then. I'd like to keep more from dying."

"You see the death of your own as an evil." The Master shook his head. "We had such hopes for you."

Superman drew his hands into fists, and Terry touched his arm. "We came here for a reason."

"Yes, you did," said the Master. "A question." Merina had a bad flashback to her meeting with Hol, and then the little man said, "Ask."

"I've had dreams," she said. "People who don't exist, people nobody knows but me. I think one of them may be here. A boy."

"We have many boys."

"I ... I don't know his name. Kay? Ka? I'd know him if I saw him, I think." The face in her dreams smiled grimly, surrounded by emerald light. He was a child, and a man, and an adolescent, all at once.

The Master looked at her face, examining her for what felt like a long time. She sensed Terry shifting beside her, ready to go in attack mode, but she waited.

The Master turned away and gave an order to the attendants with him. One disappeared back through the gates. "We have a number of boys who might have that name. You may see if you know your friend."

Within minutes, the priest returned. Her heart sank. Twenty boys of all ages had joined him. The younger ones were clearly still learning the "pretending the snow didn't bother them" trick. The oldest was almost her own age. All bald as babies, all wearing the orange-saffron robes of the order, all slightly surprised at seeing Merina and Donna, or for that matter, the rest of them. These were not kids who spent their days watching superheroes on television, and had never seen superheroes, or women other than their mothers, in their lives.

None looked exactly like the boy she remembered.

Think! Hol hadn't looked like the woman in her dreams, either. The Hol Merina remembered had known how to smile, and she hadn't worn a mask. The boy in her dreams would have grown up as a Lantern (the youngest Lantern to ever wear the ring, said a voice that sounded like her own) not as an aesthete in the mountains of Tibet. Of course he would look different.

But without recognition from him, she couldn't say which one, if any, was the boy she remembered who might have been named Kay.

"I'm sorry," she said, examining each face one more time, and then turning away.

The Master gave a word to his pupils, who returned back through the gates. Just out of sight, she heard them break into a run. No laughter, though, nor the natural chatting and joking she'd expect from a group of little kids.

"Sorry for wasting your time," Fred said. "Can we go home now?"

The Master continued staring at Merina, not saying anything. Was he angry with her? Disappointed? She'd failed his test. She'd failed her own test.

She could explain Hol. She'd seen the old files on the original League, years ago. She could have pieced together a new life for her father's friend in her mind. Meeting her meant nothing.

And now ...

The boy was a dream, had been a dream. Like Micron, like Warhawk, like Enigma, created out of her own need for the world to make sense. She was living two lives, but one of them was imaginary, and if she couldn't separate herself from it, she'd get someone killed. The look on Terry's face, what she could see beneath the mask, was pity. The same was on Fred's and Donna's and Superman's.

"Let's go," said Superman. "Thank you, Master. We're sorry for the trouble."

The Master nodded, and waited, watching them go. The wind blew on her face as she turned away from him. The ride home would be long, though not long enough. At the other end, she would be handing in her resignation.

Behind her, she heard a strange sound: the muffled slap of sandaled feet on the snowy path.

"Wait!"

The boy, one of the adolescents, was flushed from his run, the ruddiness in his cheeks a strong reflection of the orange in his robes. In his arms, he clutched cream-colored papers. "Please wait," he said, gasping for air. He'd been gone for less than a minute. Merina had a sudden image of this child almost flying through the many rooms of the monks' quarters to seize the things he held against himself now so protectively.

"I drew these." Like a great secret, he handed her a picture of a woman. The ink-strokes were lovely and spare, suggesting detail with the natural spatter of light and dark on the paper. Merina saw curves barely hinted at, and a fall of hair like sheaves of wheat.

"I thought when I saw you that you were her. You are not."

"No." A handful of pictures, all of the same beautiful woman who was not Merina, but the face was from her dreams and she knew the woman's name.

"Cassie," said Terry. "That's Cassie."

~~~~~

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