Greetings dear readers,

I hope you are not frustrated with me and that you are still following me. Hopefully this story is better now and more satisfactory as some of you have suggested.

Reviews are welcome as I will try to make the story go your way.

Disclaimer: The Manhunter does not belong to me, I'm just using him for emotional benefit.

Chapter One

The Meeting

Red. It is an intriguing color, so bold and bright. Little droplets drip down my arm weaving their own intricate patterns with gravity guiding them. Three long and shallow cuts, nothing critical barely even superficial but it bleeds just the right amount that I need it to bleed. Such a pretty color it is. I don't even feel the pain anymore, my skin went numb to the blade a long time ago and my poor art knife never thought it'd be used this way. Well art knife, things never turn out the way we want them to do they now?

It hadn't always been this way or maybe on some levels it had. I honestly don't think I can remember. They had gotten into heavy fights before, I had thought it was normal and would never be violent. Until one day, it was. You can never be prepared for the panic you feel at a tender age when you know, intuitively, that something is very wrong and nothing can fix the way you look at life again. All I recall is shouts and a shove along with the broom being used to barricade my mom in the hall way and me tugging on Dad's arm to get him to let her go. I honestly wish I could erase that memory.

That was 15 years ago when I was 6, it was the start of all that is wrong in the lives of my family. Violence, domestic abuse in measured doses, nothing that would be too much for dear old mum and her idea that a family should be united. I think its the fault of that mentality. Not knowing when something is unsalvageable, not walking out when she should have. Today the scenario is less violent but just as awful.

Once you grow up you pick up the subtle cues in the atmosphere that you couldn't as a child and those cues keep gnawing on the back of your mind about how you can't help them out or solve their problems. Also once you grow up your family tends to be more careful now that you can think and act independently in ways that might spell court case for certain members. The line is always delicate but its hardly discernable specially when there's no evidence to back you up.

Oh look! The blood stopped. Sigh. Time for a few more lines of pain, it doesn't really hurt though maybe if I cut deeper it would. Ah, yes a searing line of liquid fire. How nice to be able to feel something other than numbness. After so many years of constant cutting it comes as no surprise that the skin has gone somewhat numb. I should've expected it with all the scars which can no longer be individual made out littering my wrist. Amazing how people always see only what they want to see and how easy it is to hide the pain and shame behind thick wrist watch.

I think I need help.

Sleep keeps calling me and all the people I know aren't people I want to confide my heart in. Sure they would be concerned, they would try to help, they might even take me away for a spell till I feel better but nothing they do can fix the damage already done. It hurts my head just thinking of what I should be doing, it feels heavy and my body is aching all over from the exhaustion. Perhaps its time for a nap?

Making my way to the bed is too great a task right now, I'll just lay my head down, my table should suffice for now.. Red again? Two glowing red spots stare into my eyes. What the? Eyes?

Wait a minute, red eyes? I take a closer look rubbing my eyes. Yep still eyes, eyes on a green angular face. Clearly masculine, high brow, aquiline nose and a thin lipped frown. Hmm.. I know that face! Said face is staring at me with no regard for personal space, its quite literally an inch from my face.

"J'onn J'onzz!" He backs a bit from being in my face to being in my personal space, am I dreaming? There has to be an explanation and the best is that I am indeed dreaming yet there's something here that is not giving off the dream vibe, in fact it's giving off the this is reality vibe.

"Pinch me?" I ask him quite sure he'll disappear if I touch him.

"You are not dreaming," his voice is soothing and deep. "you are very much awake in your own mind."

That doesn't really make much sense, but I suppose I can let that be and enjoy this most pleasant dream. And if it is not a dream well all the better. Looking around it doesn't look like anything I'm familiar with, huge glass windows, large beams with rivets and the light darkness of a black sky lit with a million stars. Its not the sort of sky one can see from out their window no matter what height one may climb to on earth. Conclusion: my dream/reality is occurring outside of earth.

"So where am I? And how did you get here?"

"You are in my mind, not I in yours." J'onn tells me staring right into my eyes. This makes no sense, how could I end up in his mind of all places. It's not like I have a map reference there or even any previous misadventures into anybody's mind of all places. The most fantastic place I've visited in my mind was the bottom of a quicksand pit. Not very pleasing that dream, I ensure you.

"You are a powerful telepath, it makes no sense I would stumble into your mind Manhunter." I figure addressing him by title is probably the most respectful of ways after inadvertently invading his mind. It's really not difficult to identify such a remarkable alien who is well covered by the media even if the spotlight is often stolen by Superman or Diana.

J'onn J'onzz, The Martian Manhunter. An alien who rescued earth from a gruesome fate as slaves to a race of white, sunlight allergic shape shifters. I've never really seen him up close but then again I don't think many people have. He's always seemed detached. Like a god who observes the ways of his creations and intervenes if need be but is not emotionally vested in their activities. This god like creature has a most graceful smile.

"J'onn, please." I nod along still wondering what to do here. It's all fine and dandy to dream about entering an alien's mind but how am I going to get out of his mind and more importantly, I could be dead in my body for all I know.

"Umm, J'onn, how do I get out of your mind?"

"I can send you back, I am much stronger here than you are."

J'onn's deep voice reverberates through me as he moves towards me, his hands coming up to cup my face. They are decidedly very large hands that completely envelope the sides of my face giving off warmth and dry roughness against my cheeks. How is it that texture registers in a mind realm? Very mind boggling. His eyes glow orange and I feel mine close almost involuntarily.

Blinking a few times I wake up to find myself at the table, my wrist has ceased bleeding and feels scabbed over. My mind is in a state of utter confusion. I'm not new to dreams I should know when I've been in a dream but now I'm not so sure if I can be a hundred percent certain. Surely all I just experienced was a delusion caused by blood loss?

The answer to my questions are not forthcoming today. I might as well give it time and see if this repeats or if I have a normal dream to compare this with. Rational thought says its just a dream but all my instincts are telling me that I just experienced something much for powerful than that. Perhaps a week or so of thought would clear this up for me.

...

It's funny how quickly a week can pass when you're occupied. I spent the past few days away from my art knife and more with my life. J'onn had crossed my mind a million times during the week. His blood red eyes, accented voice and impressive presence haunted the edges of my thoughts, distracting me from the knife and calling me to discover the secrets I stumbled upon but I still can't figure out how I entered his mind.

Things that I loved once again held my interest, at least fleetingly, before I was distracted by J'onn. Books upon books I read about astral planes, soul travelling, the theory of telepathy. Nothing shed light on what had happened, I may very well have actually hallucinated from blood loss for all the clarity I achieved through my research.

Somehow I still don't think it was a hallucination or a dream. The past nights have confirmed that dreams indeed give off a dream vibe as I have decided to call it and said vibe was most definitely absent in my encounter with J'onn J'onzz.

While thoughts of him have kept me occupied, it doesn't mean that my knife has stopped calling my name, nor has my blood ceased singing its desire to be spilled. Things maybe less suffocating but the urge to feel the slide of a blade on skin, to watch the first drops of blood slip out and start running is barely contained.

How bad could it be to silence the songs I hear around me. Perhaps tonight? Yes tonight sounds lovely. The daylight makes things too bright and brings a harsh light of reality that is not present when night falls, besides I need solitude and silence. In a noisy household the break of dusk brings about a natural lull in activity, it is the perfect time to depress myself just that little bit more.

It's probably a testament to the state in the house that 10 minutes of interacting have got me feeling restless and on edge. Self sabotage.. I'm a masochist for sure. The air is oppressive, I can feel the pressure around my chest and the tension at the dip of my back.

It is a unique form of tension, like a knot that's bent on getting itself unraveled through my tears. I fear this time I'm not going to cry. I have been told that I bottle up my feelings, that it is unhealthy but I'm definitely not going to cry over this. Whatever tension I feel can stay there. I'm not going to let it control me. I have enough things in my environment that I can't control! I'll be damned if I let my tears turn me into a whimpering mess.

Two straight lines across my wrist and the burst of red again. Ah, the relief of stinging pain. I can't describe how soothing the familiarity of the color is. Red... The color of his eyes.

J'onn. Yes I would like to visit your mind J'onn. A week after that incident and want a repeat, even if its just to prove to myself that it wasn't a dream. How did I do it that first time? How did I stumble into his mind? What did I accidently do that enabled me contact him?

How dare my phone interrupt my feel good time?! Oh, my ex-lover. How wonderful. I'm definitely in no mood for him tonight.

Now where was I art knife? Ah yes, cut three. Straight and true like the arrow that passed through my heart when I broke up with him. He was such a nice and loving man. I don't think I'm cut out for a relationship regardless of how many I get into and unfortunately I keep getting all the nice ones who genuinely care. They do everything they can to make me happy and yet I can't tolerate them after a few months. Its like a switch in my heart flips and suddenly I'm no longer in love but vicious and intolerant. Simple things irritate me and I fly off the handle till I can't bear to talk to them civilly.

My head always starts pounding when I think of such things. Little beads of red and an aching heart, such a lovely combination. Seek a bit of sorrow and you get landed a heavy dose of pain. This time I should just get to bed and sleep. The pillows are wonderfully soft and the bed feels divine. I think I shall never leave this place again, I could do that. Just cut deeper, bleed a little more and sleep, never wake again. So very tempting.

Intervene somebody, please intervene. I don't want to hurt the people hurting me.

It's one thing to entertain such thoughts while stable and it's another thing entirely to think of it when you're in a dark place where ever option seems like a good option. Closing my eyes I let sleep claim my body lest I try something stupid. Well, more stupid than usual.

A heavy hand lands on the back of my head. I don't want to raise my head. I don't want to accept the comfort I can feel from his hand alone. Its solid, heavy and giving off warmth along with a sense of soothing. I know whose hand it is without looking up. No dream of mine has ever allowed my to register the feel of a hand like I am registering now. This can only mean one thing.

J'onn J'onzz very slowly strokes my hair, his fingers carefully brushing down the length of my hair till my back. I can feel the bed beneath me, clearly this time I'm still in my room in this weird reality I'll call mind realm. I give up on trying to figure out how I can feel things in this mind realm. It is confusing my brain far to much, unless I'm not in a mind realm and I'm merely dreaming.

His deep voice surrounds me as he chuckles. Yes very funny. I'm sure stroking my hair is amusing. Where is the funny part?

"The part where you refuse to acknowledge this is no dream." His voice makes me want to look up and confirm what I know. To accept what he says as reality but some part of me is knows that I'm to raw around the edges to meet his eyes right now without giving him a glimpse of my pain.

"Look at me."

I don't think I could've resisted that soft, commanding whisper even if I had hated him. Understanding red eyes look back at me when I finally turn my head to look at him and suddenly I want to cry. I've always been one of those people who need something to cry into and all I want to do is throw myself against his chest and let go. There's so much compassion in the crimson of his eyes that I can feel the strength he's silently offering me to lean on but I blink the urge away and sit up to properly talk. After all if I'm back in his mind that means I'm doing something unconsciously which brings me to him.

"Your mind didn't bring you into mine this time."

Ok how is he knowing what I'm thinking?!

"Are you reading my mind?" I'm not really offended but I'm more worried about what he'll think of my less than graceful thoughts. J'onn shakes his head at me.

"No. But me being in your mind makes it difficult to not hear your thoughts." At my paling face he sighs and cups my face. "I am truly sorry but your thoughts are too loud here."

That means he just heard me think about weeping into his chest.

"How can I stop that?" I whisper softly hoping that might work. It's not like this mind realm came with an instruction manual on what I should and should not think about. He probably heard that too. Wait, he probably heard me think that he heard too. Gah!

"Do you have a sanctuary? A place where you go in your head to think?"

I actually do. Sherlock Holmes' mind palace really made an impact on me and I had created my own mind palace years back although now I hardly ever visited it. I had created a library, a bedroom, a balcony where I installed the woven lounge from Lord of the Rings, an art studio, ballroom. Lets just say I really made a palace, its easy to get lost in your own mind when most of your problems stem from it.

J'onn's graceful smile makes its appearance. He nods at me in encouragement, I start thinking of the lounge at the balcony and picture us there and lo and behold! I got it right! The bed melts away to be replaced by the couch and J'onn looks around what I have created. I look around with him, it's been years since I visited my mind palace. It's a very effective method to remember things. The balcony overlooks merely greenery, I didn't think of creating anything in the garden. J'onn meets my eyes and yes it is quiet here, I can't even hear my own thoughts.

Wait a... He said I didn't crash land in his mind this time.

"J'onn, you couldn't have accidentally found my mind. How did you get here?" He's a telepath from a race of aliens who probably practiced all sorts of telepathic activities, there's no possible way he would have accidents like a certain blundering human. Me.

He looks at me quietly. Red can be so expressive, as unfamiliar as I am with his body language and expressions, the subtle darkening of his eyes seem to convey sadness. Is he sad?

"I'm afraid after our last encounter I was intrigued by your mind, I heard your plea."

"Oh.." My plea. Yes, please intervene, well who said prayers never get answered. As delightful as it, my answered prayers have given me a new dilemma: how do I meet the eyes of this alien now, knowing what he knows about me.

J'onn's large green hand tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. It is still as large as I remember covering my jaw and gently guiding me eyes up to meet his which are calm and comforting.

"I have been living among humans for many years, yes your mind is dark but believe me, it is not as dark as the minds I've been in."

"Batman?"

I can somehow imagine Batman's mind to be a terrible place for a peaceful race of telepathic aliens. J'onn nods with a humorless smile. I take in his features once more, the texture of his hand, the colors he's wearing, the golden chain across his throat enhancing the dip at the base before his clavicles define their way across the broad expanse of his chest, partially covered by his blue cape. Beautiful, its the only way to describe it. There's an unique appeal in the way he's holding himself coupled with the barely concealed strength in his body. But his eyes. Red like the blood I spill each night, red of the richest shade and the softest depths. Those eyes hold mine captive. Suddenly words are lost to me, I don't want to think anymore. He's here, everything is quiet in my mind. My troubles can wait till after he's gone.

What does one offer to a guest when the guest is occupying ones mind? Its not like tea is an option. J'onn has one eye ridge cocked up in a question while I'm debating my course of action, I'm so focused on it that I almost don't notice his hand dropping from my face. I feel like I should make conversation. He's probably going to wonder what is keeping me so occupied. Somehow I wonder if telling him his mere presence is easing the worries in my head is a good idea. I wonder if I can lean against him, he seems physically expressive enough.

"I was wondering," I start to say. "if you were my guest at home I'd offer you tea but since you're a guest in my mind.. What do I offer you?"

J'onn looses his composure, suddenly startled and amused laughter echo around inside my head. I can feel the blood rushing to my face, I must be glowing red. Damn it. Why'd I voice that concern to him. Of all the things I could have said why didn't I start with something else.

J'onn leans back against the couch, his arm causally draped across the back. His fingers are inches away from my head, I'm sure if I tilt my head that I'll feel their warmth. Mirth filled eyes twinkle at me and I can't help relaxing into a smile, feeling lighter at heart than I have been in months.

"I forget this is new to you, there is nothing you need to offer me." J'onn's voice carries a hint of the amusement he feels at my expense but it slowly turns fades and his eyes darken into seriousness as he slowly starts talking. "There is one thing. Perhaps you would tell me what is happening that is making you so unstable."

The breath catches in my throat and I slowly feel the air around us tensing in anticipation, my fingers find themselves busily engaged with each other. J'onn's hand returns to the side of my head, gently stroking my hair over my ear. Should I tell him? Could I tell him? Tell him what I'm witnessing daily? Tell him why I'm finding it impossible to cope? Most importantly am I justified in telling this gentle creature who deals with black and white crimes? J'onn doesn't deal with grey in his crimes while I'm dealing with all grey. It is something immensely difficult to explain, its easier read off my mind, he's a telepath after all.

"Read it off my mind J'onn. It's easier that way for both of us."

"I do not wish to intrude." he looks tortured by the thought of intruding as if he could truly intrude anymore considering where he is what he and I have been doing. I take his free hand in both of mine and guide it to the opposite side of my head.

"It's fine J'onn, go ahead."

I look at his eyes waiting for him to pull up the memories needed from my head. The thought randomly strikes me that the Martian is reading my mind while being IN my mind. It is hilarious in its own right. A mind-ception.

His eyes take on a glowing shade of red as he cups my face properly between both his large hands and I let my eyes close. I don't know why but I expected to feel pain from his invasion, yet all I experienced was a slight prodding which caused memories to surge through mind. The prodding stops and I open my eyes just as he drops his hands from my face. Suddenly my eyes are fixated on my lap, refusing to meet his eyes properly. What will I find if I look at him? Sympathy? Compassion? Pity?

J'onn seems to be deep in thought not making any move towards breaching the topic or taking his leave. I dare to look up from my lap and lock my eyes on the shiny gold buckles holding the chain of his cape. I can see myself reflected back at me, distorted and painted in gold. He is staring at me, I can feel it. Finally daring to meet his eyes I'm locked with his gaze filled with intense sorrow for me. Far to intense. It's making me relive my troubles and the pain I felt. It is far easier to stare out the garden than to stare into those compassionate eyes and I rise from my seat to walk over to the balcony I created.

J'onn follows me as I stare at the passionless greenery of no form, his large hand grips my bicep and I can feel the electric tension in the air between his chest and my back. I bet he's not even two inches away from me, if I relax backwards I'll be against him. A minute of silent staring at mind numbing greenery later, J'onn turns me very slowly to meet his gaze. The red of his eyes somehow convey how he feels and I'm desperate to stop him from feeling bad for me.

"There's nothing to do about it J'onn. It's well beyond my ability to fix. Well beyond yours too I'm sure."

"I am sorry I can not fix this for you." He sounds genuinely upset that he can't help me but it's not something a superheroes' job description entails. Helping young women cope with depressions and family issues is a psychiatrist's job. J'onn's other hand cups my cheek and my eyes close. I want nothing more than to edge that tiny distance between us and press against his chest. Listen to what I'm sure is a solid heartbeat.

I really wasn't expecting him to fix my problem but it has made me happy to just have someone to talk to who chases away my worries with their mere presence. I'd voice that to him, I really would but I'm not too certain what that would cause. Would he take to returning often to ensure my mental stability? Will that not be extremely selfish of me?

J'onn stiffens suddenly and drops his hands from my body. I miss that cool touch as he stands ramrod straight.. What's happening? Maybe he's getting a message.

"I am needed at the watchtower." he says quietly, snapping from his rigid stance and holding me by the shoulders. His eyes and very touch convey his regret at having to leave but I'm nodding before I register the action. I knew he had to leave, it's not like he can stay in my mind all night long. I whisper back just as quietly.

"Go."