Hey everyone! Guess what? It's another chapter!

...well, kinda. This, my friends, is only the first part of the Lampads chapter. I know, right? This is about the same length as all the other chapters! What makes Lampads special is that there's a lot of stuff going on for him. So... 2-part chapter. Yay! The second half will be posted... when I actually finish writing it. Yeah...

As usual, I still don't own Young Justice.

Enjoy!

August 11, 12:42 PM
Central City

There was something in the air that clung to Wally with a sort of uneasiness. It was quite different than the dull pain that accompanied him since he ran from the bonfire, which had taken to spike his mind with aches from time to time. The unease was not his fault. The feeling had slipped in silently sometime during his lunch and found its way to his stomach.

(not guilt)

He didn't know if there was school that day or not. He could not bring himself to care at the moment, favoring the presence of his room to the alien hallways that littered the school building. Rather than comfort, he found familiarity within the four walls of his room that helped him stay away from the world. There wasn't much more he could want with his current frame of mind.

The ideas that sat against his mind were not there as a comfort; instead, it was a necessity in the hopes of surviving the impending conflict. There was no use in pretending that there was no one waiting for the Justice League in the shadows. The League had done something to warrant the rage of their former allies, bringing them from beyond the grave to exact revenge. The League could pretend that no such thing ever happened for as long as they wanted. It meant nothing.

(like what I meant to Roy)

The ginger's fists clenched before the thought could finish running through his head. Roy had disappeared after his encounter with Sylph-

(his name Dick

not anymore)

-leaving no trace for the League to work with that would bring him back. Green Arrow had loudly voiced what little care he had for the disappearance of his ward, claiming that the act had been carried out several times since the breakup. He could not sense what was wrong with the older teenager. Maybe the change happened too gradually for Oliver Queen to notice.

The child-

(gone disappeared ever existed?)

-could not have been more than a month or two old, placing the possible conception time to months before Young Justice was brought together. It had all happened before the crack in the relationship between the two heroes came about.

(what else Roy hiding?)

"If only…" The statement slipped out of his mouth with little care, crashing to the ground in a way that made him cringe. The two words made up a common phrase that floated amongst heroes who wondered if they could have save the few lives they failed. Logic would have told them the amount they saved should be more than enough to satisfy the quota. Their hearts, however, always howled with pain for the few that did slip away into the hands of death.

The teenager found himself empathizing with them more and more on that particular matter. Each of the members of the young group had slipped away, whether it was by their own choice or fate's-

(playing a game us pawns)

-hand. The method did not change the resulting madness that ate away the back of the teenager's mind. It had questioned his actions with no care for whatever feelings it trampled upon in the search. It only wanted the answers. Wally wasn't sure what answers would give him beyond guilt, but allowed that part of his mind to run free. There was nothing else that would sit with him without drowning him in a wave of self-inflicted nausea.

The warmth of the day escaped past the closed shutters and into his room. The room had not yet become unbearable with the temperature, although there was no doubt to the speedster that he would stay even if it began to become uncomfortable. The world had managed to isolate him to the small comfort that he could find in his room. It should have been intolerable for a teenager like him to be trapped in such a way. But he stayed within the confines without an extra word.

"Wally?" Barry Allen's voice tried to pierce the silence that that retaken the space. It did nothing to the already present mood, instead appearing awkward besides it. "Hey, you still alive?"

A groan escaped Wally's throat before he was able to prevent it. The need to admit to being-

(here not trapped traitor)

-alive was becoming a way for him to confirm his existence. It was little comfort to know that he existed in a world that led him to being partly at fault for the madness that was going on.

"Wally, you have to stop acting like this. Your aunt's getting worried, and you know what happens to me if she starts worrying." The words did not draw the teenager out from under the blankets of his bed. Paranoia and replayed memories had taught the redhead about the cheapness of words while, at the same time, reminding him that he had nothing else to go on.

"Besides, there's someone at the base who wants- well, more like demands- to talk to you." Barry sounded slightly exasperated as the words came out of his mouth. It brought curiosity out of the teenager's fear, pulling his head out of the security of the blanket. "There we go! But can you speed it up a bit? Bats can get-"

"Bats?" Wally's voice sounded hoarse from the lack of use. Suddenly he wished he had taken a glass of water back to his room when he snuck into the kitchen for food.

"Yeah. You know. Batman."

August 11, 1:26 PM
Gotham City

It was home. There was way for the idea to be strange in her mind. Gotham had become her home through the series of events that lefts scars in most of the trapped minds that lived there. She had seen the dark beauty that the city had to offer. It was a mesmerizing pull that had no meaning to those who felt themselves being kept in the city.

The elderly man besides her made no changes to his expression to reveal his own thoughts. There was something in his aura, however, that spoke loud enough for her. "I hope the manor is not in shambles. I did make sure to hire cleaners to watch over it while-"

"It is fine." The words came from her mouth as an automatic response to the man's worries rather than from knowledge. She did not believe that Wayne Manor could have brought itself to ruins. There was something about the large building-

(Batcave under it)

-that spoke of timeless and permanent residence. Somehow she had joined it in existence. It was an interesting thing.

The man paused before straightening himself up. "Well, it will be nice to see it again." He paused, considering his next words behind his tired eyes. "I wish I could have helped Master Bruce more than I did."

"You will help him by doing this." A small smile graced her lips.

The man sighed softly, looking out of the large windows of the building. The airport was not unlike the ones that the girl had gone through during her travels and moving. There were some shops and cafés that littered the area with their goods. The staff smiled at them with something that was forced. If it wasn't for the fact that it was placed within Gotham, she would have found it dull.

"Miss Cassandra, is there anything that you want to get before-"

"It's…" She paused for a second. While words were not as elusive to her as they once were, there were times where her vocabulary failed to supply her with the right things. "…fine."

(my siblings)

August 11, 2:14 PM
Watchtower

(memories

missing ever there?

don't understand)

He closed his eyes again. The sudden awakening to the world was taking all of his willpower to handle. It was an overflow of information, each demanding his careful attention and to be stored away in the recesses of his mind. He could not deny the pieces the chance to be stored away. It was life and death.

(but I'm dead already)

Bruce Wayne opened his eyes again. There was no cowl to block away any part of the word, no white lenses that kept his confusion to himself. There was no filter waiting to help him as he readjusted. And, of course, there were no memories for him to call on.

His head turned to look at the bed besides him. The image of Selina Kyle resting in the infirmary section of the Justice League's base no longer startled him. The implications, less so. No one had bothered to explain her presence, leaving the inventions of Bruce's mind to answer. There was no issue with guessing why the others had accepted her: she had a good heart. The chances of her joining the Justice League in what she believed to be a way to honor Bruce were not as small as many believed.

It was the way she laid there that worried the man. Many would have easily mistaken the posture as one of peaceful sleep that had overtaken her after battle. But there was something about it that screamed of death. The machines that surrounded her recorded a heartbeat that had managed to keep steady, but having nothing of true life.

Bruce looked at his own machine. There were no attempts made at keeping a pulse check as he had no pulse. He had checked himself after blaming the others for their lack of knowledge, only to find out that the jab was his own attempts at keeping calm. There was nothing beating under his skin. He had officially crossed the line of being an ordinary human, a title that he could not help but secretly enjoy. It was an unpleasant feeling of not knowing what was keeping him "alive."

The doors to the infirmary slipped open, giving Bruce a glimpse of the hallway outside room. The metallic walls had told him what he had already known: the League had placed him in the Watchtower. It was only after taking less than a second to process these facts that he recognized the people: Barry Allen in his Flash suit and his nephew, Wallace West, dressed in what the two had deemed as the "Kid Flash" costume. Out of habit, Bruce frowned at their appearance.

"Allen-"

"Can it, Bruce. Your identity doesn't matter." It took Allen a visible second to realize the implications of his words. His hand shot out to scratch the back of his head, a gesture of nervousness that he had picked up somewhere along the lines. "We can't really explain Bruce Wayne coming back to life. Batman is a hero, so-"

"I get the point." Bruce's blue eyes shifted to the younger speedster. The boy's brilliant green eyes were downcast, avoiding the temptation of seeing a man from the dead alive and well. They were scarred with something else that sapped the joy out of his existence. There was life, but it was a hollow comparison to what it should have been for someone his age. "What's wrong with him?"

Barry opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it. It took another moment for him to begin speaking. "No idea. He's worrying Iris sick, too. Wally just… won't talk."

(like Barbara Dick Jason Tim Artemis Cassandra

Barbara Dick Jason Tim Artemis Cassandra

BARBARA DICK JASON TIM ARTEMIS CASSANDRA)

The names brought a sudden onslaught of pain to his head. The only show that Bruce made of it was bringing a hand to his temple.

(guess who's missing Brucie?)

The last voice had a Joker-like quality to it.

Part of Bruce wanted to give the teenager one of his famous glares, but he could not bring himself to do it. The kid was fragile. What was worse, he reminded Bruce of his own children. Instead, the man growled out, "Shouldn't you be doing something else about the kid, Allen?"

"The thing is-"

"Your kids are going after us."

The words took over a second to digest. It was followed by questions that filled Bruce's head, attacking every word and idea that the boy had said. His own limited memories began to question themselves, looking for a single answer. When there was none, the questions spilled out of his mouth with a single word. "What?"

"They… They blame the League for something that happened to them. Something… about their deaths. And the way that they're going to get back at them is by taking us." The words started to come out of his mouth faster and faster. It wasn't his powers that were helping, but sheer emotion. "And they already had Connor, which is unfair because he hasn't even been alive that long, and then M'gann, who just betrayed us because- well, we don't really know but it might have to do with the fact that she's a White Martian, and then Kaldur and IcouldhavestoppeditbutIdidn'tandRoy-"

"Stop it." The growl halted the rest of the words from the teenager's mouth. "You're not going to help them if all you do is babble and sulk. If your teammates need you, you would be a useless sitting duck."

"Bruce-"

Barry's words had no effect. Bruce's glare had hardened, staring down the kid until he understood that there was no game involved in the matter. "I don't care if you don't understand or use to be friends with some of them. Your teammates need you? You step up or let them fucking die."

The words were created out of a mix of experience and emotion. He wasn't sure how much the teenager would understand, but he was surprised. He received a nod, the eyes suddenly breaking away from the hollow gaze to one filled of determination. Bruce was sure that even Clark had never reached the same point that Wallace did.

The hollow look returned a second later.

"But they're your children."

A pause filled the room with an impenetrable silence, leaving enough room for Bruce's thoughts to escape. There were more questions waiting for him with the thoughts that came. His own past words were tough upon their fates. What difference should it have made, between a teammate and a child, of letting them go for the greater good?

(you know the answer)

There was a truth imbedded within the whispered words of his head. He knew what the difference between the two were, as if it were the difference between night and day. Not only did Batman trust his sidekicks more, but he loved them with something that no one else could have. It was the simple fact that they were his children and not just a teammate. Bruce could have lost sleep with losing his teammate in order to save the larger population. Something would have died within him, but he would still don the cowl for the night. He would die almost completely if he had lost one of his children in the same manner.

"Going to retrieve your teammates will not harm them unless they are physically attached and dependent on my children's existence." Each word came out hashed, his voice dropping to the deep tones that made up the Dark Knight of Gotham. "I doubt that is the case."

The worry did not disappear from the brilliant green eyes. The boy did not utter a word against Bruce, but his eyes manage to fight off the-

(bullshit)

-reason with little trouble.

"Those are not my children." The words came out even, softer than their predecessors. There was no struggle to keep any anger out of his voice. The sorrow, however, was another case entirely. "My children believed in justice. Those… monsters have taken their form."

"But you were like them! The League was able to cure-" The last word hung in the air. Bruce was sure that the teenager knew nothing of the process that the League went through to save him from whatever had overtaken him. Yet, somehow, the redhead was able to make the word sound-

(wrong)

-misused.

"I've talked to the others about it. They told me I was lucky. The chances of saving any of them are infinitesimally small." Without any conscience thought, his voice grew louder with each syllable.

"Why won't you take the chance? You're the goddam Batman!" With a quickness that had to have been relying on his powers, Wallace left the room.

Barry's apologies never reached Bruce. A hardened gaze remained on the door, a hint of the image of the teenager remaining in the mind. There was something in the words that had awoken part of him that he could remember, but not well. It was a faded memory that remained out of grasp, yet it existed in a more definite presence than the missing memories.

(why indeed)

August 15, 6:29 AM
Gotham City

"Cass-" The name tasted the air for a moment while the rest of the words withdrew into his throat. Dryad paused, his face contorting to fit his confusion. There was nothing directly wrong with finding the girl within the caverns that ran under Gotham. She belonged there as much as they did. It did not mean that she should be there, though.

"I wanted to see Gotham…" It was clear in her eyes that the next words were a struggle to find. Some would have blamed the lack of education from her father. Dryad knew better. "…one last time."

The silent emotion behind her statement forced the other to think. The girl was not attached to the city's presence in the same way that the others were-

(close enough millimeter too far)

-but she seemed to know the truth as well as they did. It was not a surprising fact. To some extent, it was expected. She had been one of them, even if the world did not recognize it. Cassandra was the second Batgirl. The Justice League did not recognize her as one due to their own ideas of where she should be.

(jail asylum help hurt

idiots)

The shadows carved into his face as he began to speak. "It's been less than a year, and the city has deteriorated. It's worse than its existence before Batman. Few heroes have cared enough to save the people here, but it's too little a force to matter. People who could afford to move have already left, except for the few tied to it city. The shadows are darker than they've ever been."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Sylph says the shadows should be worse."

"What of it? He's been asleep for months. He-"

"You absorbed the spell."

(of course she knows)

"Yes," he confirmed. There was no point of denying the obvious facts. "When the others were captured, there wasn't enough force to repel the full effects. The city would have been in ruins if we didn't do it."

"You were insane."

"To some extent. In the last few months, we've become saner. You grow use to fighting off the effects." The words were not supposed to be said aloud. The agreement had appeared in silence between the three that remained when they took in the curse. They wanted to save their city, no matter the cost. Sanity appeared to be a small price as they regained their own strength.

"And now?" The question was short and simple. He could not help but enjoy it.

"The others are recovering their strength from the binds the League placed on them, but they have enough power to divert the effects completely. Maybe one day-" His throat caught the hopeful wish from his heart. There were some things that he had no chance of fixing. "Well, we would have enough one day."

"And then what?"

A wry smile worked its way to his lips. In the shadows of the caverns, he suspected that he looked sinister. It was not an unusual thought to come to him. The months had been a cruel teacher to his soul, revealing what rested within the true darkness. It called out to him the same way that it shunned him.

"I guess we figure it out from there."

"And if Lampads is…" A glint appeared in her eyes, shimmering with the dying hope and sadness that very few could have. It was a rare moment for her to let down the mask that she had grown up with, but not at all sudden. The news had managed to drain the family of what little brightness they had. "…gone?"

The tone had a final-like quality to it. It did not happen on purpose, but reality had achieved the goal of twisting what was supposed to be there. There was a faint whisper telling him that they were impossibilities to his dreams.

(they don't understand)

"He's not gone," he muttered, steel overtaking the tone. "Mother won't let it happen."

August 11, 11:34 PM
Gotham City

Kon blinked. Kaldur returned the gesture with a constant stare of his own. It was unwavering, almost the exact opposite of the one that M'gann had given when she had looked at him in the lighting of the caverns. She had tried her hardest to advert her gaze while reminding the clone of all that he had betrayed. It had not worked. The Atlantean's gaze, however, only held the implied question that had always been waiting for him.

"It's because I love them." The words sat in the air, adding a dense weight to it. Kaldur's mouth didn't contort at the supplied answer. M'gann, on the other hand, frowned as she interpreted the words. Kon knew that there was no redemption within his statement that she could cling to. The crush that she harbored had managed to last too long for his liking, anyways.

"Love?" she whispered. Within the same second, tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "How can you love them? They're monsters-"

"If they are, then they are the League's monsters." He had wanted to deny the comment outright, but he knew-

(we're all monsters rejects don't belong)

-that there was some truth in the words. As much as he did not want to believe such a possibility, he knew that they had all descended down the path of madness. It was an appealing thought. "They sent the family to death. They killed-"

"My uncle would never kill anyone!"

She had left an opening with her logic that Kon could not help but use. "He rejected you because you're a White Martian. You cannot simply believe that he's as fair as you think he is."

The tears proceeded to roll down her cheeks faster. Some fell off of her face and onto the metallic collar that chained her to the wall. "That's… something completely different."

Kadlur's gaze had steeled with Kon's reply. His own collar seemed to melt away from him, as if the image corrected itself into letting the world see the leader for who he was. "Why did you say that?"

"Because it's the truth!" His voice was laced with frustration. It came with the realization that the others, while knowing enough to turn away from the League, were still rooted in their beliefs. "If they were truly the heroes that we thought they were, then we wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be alive."

"What are you-"

"The government knows that Superman is as human as anyone else is in terms of his mind structure." Dryad's words drifted over the group before he stepped out of the shadows. Kon made no move to show his surprise, but silently wondered if his metahuman senses would ever pick up the other's presence. "Any man can be swayed from his cause. If Superman was convinced that working for Lex Luthor was how he could save the world, he would do it. It's not impossible. How else would we be on the other side of the 'battle for good'?"

"You sound… saner," Kon muttered. He cast his eyes sideways to look at his lover, the deep blue curious and insightful. Dryad even appeared saner. He had lost a weight of darkness from his face, giving Kon a glimpse of the Tim that was captured in photographs. There had never been a hope within the Kryptonian that he would see sanity within the blue eyes.

(impossible)

"It's hard to imagine, isn't it?" Laughter rumbled with hints of an echo. "I've lost so much because of those stupid 'heroes.' They even took my sanity."

"And you hate them," M'gann said softly.

"At this point, I have every right too." A frown was beginning to form on Dryad's lips. It appeared natural on the saner face, as if he had been living with the expression most of his life. "I lost my life, my sanity… They took my family too. Why should I forgive them?"

"If… If they killed you, there must have been a reason!" The Martian's voice got stronger with each word, carrying the hope that she was right. Kon couldn't help but let his mind wonder-

(a human trait? universal?)

-at the implications.

"Now trying to justify our deaths?" Dryad tilted his head, amusement shining in his blue eyes. "I'm guessing Nymph didn't tell you everything."

The wordless glance was answer enough. Kon shifted his sight to the leader of what was once Young Justice, observing the confusion taking form on his face. His brow had creased at whatever thoughts he had brought about in his head. It was a fitting look for a leader based upon the media that Kon could call to mind.

"You're not ready for the truth," Dryad concluded, his words slowly filling the cave. "You believe in 'justice' so much. Such a… an accomplishment." He turned around in a single, smooth motion. "Come on, Kon. There are preparations that are waiting for us."

The Kryptonian could sense the difference in the tone. It was within the indifference, lacing the command with a mask that was invisible to the rest. It was not a feature of the teenager that Kon had met months after his escape from Cadmus. It was a part of the genuine boy that remained under the sanity, waiting until it was able to reappear.

The clone's heavier steps followed the other's. The shadows greeted them with a cold embrace, beckoning them deeper into the maze of Gotham. There was a chill that sunk into the air. There was warmth there as well, although it was only able to serve as a reminder of the life that managed to survive in the city.

"Do you think that they'll still side with the League?" Kon asked once they were out of any possible hearing range. The muttered question was more than the simple curiosity that laced the tone: he was hoping that there was some chance. They had all been kind to him, no matter what thoughts of his allegiance crossed their minds. Returning the favor seemed natural.

"Who knows?" A half-lazy shrug accompanied the response. "We can never really be sure about people at times. Superman, the symbol of righteous, barely recognized you exist. We're the bad guys even though we've been on the 'good side' for so many years. Things can happen.

"It's even worse for them. They're directly in the middle of this madness and no one is giving them straight answers. The League is too ashamed, and we don't want to destroy their world just yet. It's too much information at once."

"…what would you have done? You know, if you were…" The words seemed to be out of reach. It was a common phrase that everyone used, but never supplied by the robotic knowledge Cadmus supplied him with.

"In their shoes?" Dryad finished. A small smile played upon his face, lacking any form of malice that would have turned the question cruel. "Hm… I would probably listen to the other side, the whole time denying everything. Probably call them crazy a few times. Then somehow get back to the League and demand answers."

The thoughts stayed with Kon for a moment. "Makes sense."

"The kicker is that we would still trust the League, even if it was only for a bit. Some might just say it was all lies and dismiss anything else the other side says. But we collect information. We make our own judgments."

Realization had seeped into Kon at that point. It was a slow, steady trickle of syrup that clung to his mind. "They're going to be allowed to return?"

"It was never planned. Siren pointed it out yesterday."

"She'll lose Kaldur."

There was a slight shrug that came before the verbal response. "She said it's a greater return if Kaldur comes back completely loyal. It's worth the risk."

"And Nymph?"

This time, there was a definite pause that defined the response. "Nymph likes M'gann. But there's no love from M'gann. She'll be a harder risk to take, letting her go."

Kon frowned, feeling anger warm his senses with a rage that could kill. His steps halted before he spoke. "But the League is just going to lock her up! They don't trust her just because she's a White Martian! They could search her mind a hundred times over, but they won't accept her because of who she is-"

"Your voice is carrying," Dryad said as he turned to face the clone. His lips closed into a hard, steady line before speaking again. "You never told me that the League was like that to you."

The silence that followed the words was uncomfortable, a steady reminder to Kon that his past was not as kind as the others may had thought it was. It was true that the League had taken the time to train him when Superman failed to fulfill any parental duties. They had become his family, offering him the comfort and advice that he needed. But many were imperfect in their affection. Many had forgotten that he did not ask to exist in such a way. Superman's coldness had grabbed a hold of their hearts. It had led to the teenager to be constantly monitored in fear of a sudden rebellion against them. The few that believed him lacked the power to stop the constant watching.

"They were discrete about it. If Black Canary hadn't told me…"

"There would have been enough rage in you to level the city once you found out." A chuckle filled the damp air. "This is what makes you turn away from the League. The others don't have that… yet."

"And M'gann will get her own experience if she goes." Kon paused as the thoughts rolled through his head. "Is that why we're letting her go?"

"Amongst other things, yes." Dryad took a step forward, erasing the distance between the two. "It's adorable on how you fret over them."

(bad thing?)

"Come on. Let's see if we can help Mother out." Their fingers intertwined into a complicated but known puzzle. There was no warmth gained with the motion, but the Kryptonian had expected no such thing.

(dead after all)

August 12, 2:39 AM
Gotham City

"You should be asleep." The words were commanding, yet the soft tone underlying them reminded Kaldur that the girl was not as cruel as she pretended to be.

(all villains like this?)

It was a stray thought that had already left an impact on his mind. It was a curious thing to consider. Most of his kidnappers had never shown any form of hospitality, filling the time instead with threats of death or hopes of payments. But Siren was different. The fact that they were in love with each other may have made all the difference, but even M'gann-

(Nymph's pet)

-was treated with the same care. The collars were an inconvenience, if anything. They served as an anchor to the caverns and a symbol. The Martian had called it a restraint, but even she could not help to admit that it was not the worst one she had to deal with while being on Earth. Their hosts provided them with blankets and food, going beyond the basics to keep them alive and well. There were books as well, offering both outsiders views into human life. It chased away boredom with ease. At other times, Superboy-

(Kon his name Kon)

-would keep them company. It was not a bad position to find themselves in.

"I cannot fall asleep." The warmth of the blankets surrounding him did not hold the call of sleep. If there had been any, his thoughts had chased them away. "I was thinking about what Dryad said."

"What did he say?" Siren dropped to the ground gracefully. She sat next to him, close enough for Kaldur to feel her physical presence but not enough to touch him. The icy gaze she directed at the floor, however, had a different effect on the area.

"He… he implied that Nymph did not tell M'gann everything. As if M'gann was not…" The last word came as a struggle for him: it was as if it didn't fit into the sentence yet it was the only word that could match. "…worthy."

"Worthy?" There was surprise lacing her voice, intertwining with a casual air. "Any particular reason why he said that?"

"M'gann said that there might be a logical reason for why…" He trailed off. There was no simple way for him to summarize what had happened to the Wayne family, even with what limited knowledge he did possess. One could have simply written it off as a murder: the family was ultimately brought to their death. But there were many more sides that created the situation he found himself submerged in. There were just not enough words for him to say it correctly. "…they sacrificed you."

"Really, now?" The words dripped slowly out of her mouth, possessing a syrup-like texture that filtered into the air. "She must have forgotten that justice is just an ideal we can only attempt to reach. Anything perfect is just too far beyond our grasps."

As true as the words were, Kaldur could not help but feel a part of him wanting to deny the claim. It had sounded like Siren had given up on it. She had lost the hope of the possibility, no matter how slim it was, of obtaining it.

(if only can show her)

That was before he remembered what she had shown him. The memories of the darker side of the Justice League had revealed what lied beyond the public eye. On the other side, there was little love for the outcasts of the world. What friendships Batman had meant nothing to the choice.

"Do you think she will understand one day?"

"Who knows? She's incredibly stubborn in her belief for her uncle. She believes that he loves her. She's… beyond stupid." Siren paused for a second, as if she could not agree with what she had just said. "No, not stupid. Naïve."

Kaldur paused, allowing his thoughts to reorganize with the new word. It took a moment for him to comprehend what he was truly thinking. "She does not think so."

"She's sixteen years old on Mars. She doesn't know anything about 'truth.' None of us did." Her eyes glossed over with memories of what had happened and what could have happened. There was a sudden sadness that descended to capture both of them, reminding Kaldur of what was once his own life. There were images followed by hollow pain to evoke some real sympathy.

"We all were," the Atlantean muttered, the barest hint of malice coming through. "I am sorry that they lied to us."

"We would've become just like them if this didn't happen." Siren's fist balled part of the blanket that had sat under her palm. There was a burn in her voice. "And we would have been okay with it."

"We would not have known better."

"And it would have gone on forever." Her voice was a whisper in the cave, which suddenly seemed much larger. The shadows muttered the words back as they extended their reach. The hidden wonders waited as the conversation continued on. "We would have been happy, though. Happier than this."

Wisdom implanted in the Atlantean at some point of life resurfaced in his mind. He said them with an equal amount of care, but his voice carried a sadder tone. "The truth does not bring happiness."

"If it did, this shit would be a lot easier to deal with."

The swear word did not faze him; the mere passage of time had erased his discomfort for such language. While the words would never leave his own mouth, the usage of such language around him did not bring a cringe that would have been apparent on his features. It was a change that he had noticed with little fanfare. The transition had taken place when he wasn't aware of it. Any anger that would come afterwards was useless to fix the past. He had accepted it and moved on.

(sign of Hell we survive in)

"You are going to send her back, are you not?" The question slipped out with little grace and was instead controlled by a smoothness of calm worry. "Because that is the only way she will learn."

"I wish it was different."

"That changes nothing." Kaldur paused before adding, "You are sending me back as well."

Siren did not miss a beat that the conversation had set up. "You don't know everything about the situation."

"I know enough. The League has made it obvious where their care for justice lies if they have kept this from everyone for so long." A bitter taste filled his senses as he spoke. An image of his-

(former)

-king seeped into the imagery in his mind, the Atlantean standing proud amongst the other figures of the Justice League. It had been something that Kaldur had wanted with a painful longing. He had never admitted to his friends, keeping his joy a secret when Orin offered him a chance to escape onto the land. It was amazing yet contaminated in ways that Atlanteans understood but never experienced. He had learned early on that lying and holding secrets were within the nature of humans.

Siren tilted her head, her blue eyes containing a mocking that laughed at an inside joke. "When I was Batgirl, there was something that the others kept mentioning. 'Even villains have a story.' That had motives that could explain erratic behavior."

(erratic)

"I…" The words faltered as he tried to collect his thoughts. He knew that others could not exist without some sort of background. But to apply the logic to the League's betrayal of Batman and his family-

(absurd)

"You're going back either way. It'll be helpful, no matter what you choose." The blonde brought her head closer to the Atlantean's, leaving little space between them. "What happens afterward is up to you."

"I will become a spy then. It will suit your needs well." The words were hushed by his own need to keep secrecy, as if the volume of the words was enough to destroy what he had. "I love you."

"I love you too." Her fingers went up and wrapped around the metal collar. "Even if you insist on wearing this stupid thing."

A smile slowly appeared on his lips. "It reminds me of my place with you."

(all I need)

August 12, 10:15 PM
Watchtower

(you forgot him

why?)

J'onn shook his head slightly, willing the voice away. His organized mind had searched itself over several times. There was nothing to be found, though. The source of the voice was nonexistent. A part of him had prepared for the lack of discoveries. An answer would have been too easy. An easy answer would have sent him into paranoia with little difficulty, but it was more like Lampads-

(why do I remember name?)

-to do such a thing than the others. There was no Lampads guiding them, either. What remained of the enemy was Bruce Wayne.

"You hurt him badly. Did you know that?"

It took him longer than it should have to remember where the familiar essence of the voice came from. It had been less than a year since he had confronted the woman, but it was not enough of an excuse. In the realm of memories, her voice had played out over and over to him, leaving a lasting impression for some time. That should have been the logic that would have allowed him to recall the information faster. It came with a slow realization that he had been trying to keep the information away from himself. Part of his subconscious had taken the facts away in an attempt to keep him sane from the guilt.

"You remember me now, don't you?" The words were soft, the edge of the emotions reeking of her anger. The woman was standing casually behind the Martian. The sight of her as he turned his head did not make him recoil although it did strike him as odd. He could remember Bruce's care for her, commenting-

(remember voice pride

"She can accomplish anything."

what words)

-on her ability to be proud despite her handicap.

He turned around fully, his gaze not wavering off of the woman. Her gaze stayed the same, strong and piercing with the shadows of the suffering she had endured. There was defiance within her stance. If J'onn did not know of her powers after death, he would have misjudged it to be purely out of pride.

"How did you-"

"-get in here?" Her words echoed his as he spoke them. A startled look bled through his emotionless mask before he could stop it. "How can you- You're reading my mind.I know, J'onn. I know what you did to my husband."

The silence that filed into the room after she spoke froze the present time, throwing his mind back to the faithful day she was talking about. There had been a coolness in the air above the buildings of Gotham. It had swept through the two figures, only touching one of them with the darkness of the situation. It had reminded the Martian of-

(home)

-Mars towards the poles of the planet. There was something wrong with what was about to occur above the street shadows, marred with the victory of capturing the others earlier in the day. Those emotions had taken a hold of J'onn's heart.

It was supposed to be something grand. Oliver had referred it to a final showdown before they ended the Bat family's presence in Gotham. While the other three had not been caught, there was little doubt that they would be apprehended if Bruce had fallen. The trio, however, had simply disappeared. Bruce was the last of the visible targets that needed to be stopped. He had stood on the concrete rooftop as if nothing had changed since his death, the shadow beneath his feet contorting itself to appear as the image of the vigilante he once was.

It was the woman's soft voice that repeated the words that were burned into the Martian's memory. "'I wanted to be a force of good, J'onn. But my family comes first.' Do you remember what you told him next, or do I need to remind you?"

There had been no form of a taunt in her voice, although they both knew that she was challenging the Martian. He remembered the moment with simple clarity. It had kept him awake at nights in the form of nightmares and free-roaming thoughts. There was no redemption from having the memory, but it was the closest he had gotten to cleaning himself of the betrayal.

"What do you want?" J'onn managed to keep his voice leveled. It made him feel better, despite knowing that the woman could easily see through the façade presented to her. The only benefit in the words was comfort for the Martian, although there wasn't much to be gained from the moment.

"Retribution, J'onn. Do you know what it's like to watch your children and husband die?" she whispered. "Did you not learn anything from Mars?"

The words struck him with the harshness that was intended. The memories of his family were always strong, refusing to leave the surface of his thoughts. There had never been anything to take away the pain. Even M'gann-

(used )

-had not been able to tear J'onn away from the pain for long.

"Remember your retribution, J'onn? Locking away those White Martians made you feel good. Rejecting a child because she was one of them was good." She was careful to stress certain words, her eyes unwavering as the words pierced J'onn. "Don't you think that I would like to feel better too?"

(pain anguish)

(they're all gone you want them back

I want my children back too)

"You killed people-"

"-that didn't deserve death. You're a monster now. And who allowed you to be a god of this world? You're an alien." The woman took a few soft steps forward. An aura swept through the room, freezing the air with aggravated energy. The temperature dropped below a comfortable level, even for the Martian. It was the spark in her eyes, however, that kept him place as she took each step. "You are the monster this time, J'onn J'onzz. I lost my family because of the choices that the League made. I will not be denied my retribution."

(worse than M'gann

child innocent of blame assumed to be like others

remember my husband)

The words chanted away in J'onn's mind, whispers laced with the pain he inflicted upon himself for believing his own lies. He was unable to quiet the voice. Compared to her, he was a small bug with no reason to escape its fate. Her powers had advanced beyond the stage the League witnessed when they saw her last.

(she could kill us all)

(I could)

A soft melody filled the air. It was unable to calm the tense static that clung to the room, but it managed to soothe the defiance in J'onn. His limbs loosened with the soft notes, his mind following them to find a part of him that was forever remembering his lost family. For a moment, his sense brought him the remainders: the laughter of his children, the endless landscape, his wife's touch. Mars had remained beautiful in his memory, lacking the war-torn fires and destruction. Evil was unknown in the bliss. Earth was only another planet that was beginning to develop. It had nothing to the red land that waited before him that was already filled with brilliant life.

It wasn't long before he forgot about the tear-stained human standing in front of him, the hum of a lullaby playing upon her lips.

So, yeah, Cassandra is the second Batgirl that the League had refused to acknowledge. Wonderful, isn't it?

*goes to work on second half* In case I don't get a chance to upload it before the holidays and new year, I wish you all happiness during the celebrations!