Vermeer

Texas – Gulf Coast

Sometimes the voices just got too much. The constant din of sound battered away at his mind until making it stop was all that mattered. He sought out the water as a way of finding one direction where the voices were quiet.

The world is made of layers, horizontal and vertical that divide up reality for all of us. Each reality overlaps at the edges with those we are acquainted with, yet we are really like strangers brushing against one another on the sidewalk. We get brief glimpses occasionally into someone else's world, but for the most part we are blissfully ignorant.

When he was 10, the Kents had stopped from the endless traveling and settled in a small rental park for a couple of months. The second week there they noticed Clark seemed sullen and asked him why? He proceeded to tell them what was actually happening inside every one of their neighbors' cozy little bungalows. The look of horror that came over Martha and Jonathan's faces taught Clark to never make that mistake again. They didn't need to brush against those strangers and have those layers exposed to them. They were already doing enough; they didn't need him to add to their burden.

Clark sometimes wondered if his Kryptonian parents really knew all of what it meant to send him to Earth. How the illusion that most people are good and decent would never last against what his abilities allowed him to see and hear. In many ways he envied those heroes that the public cheered. Battling monsters and villains, stopping bank robberies or even something as mundane as a mugging, seemed cut and dried compared to knowing what was happening in all those little neatly spaced houses and anonymous looking apartments. To hear the fights, the abuse, the tears, the desperate prayers of everyone around you and be unsure what to do seemed more like a curse and then a blessing.

In the last ten years Clark had made thousands of calls to the police and children's services leaving anonymous tips about abuse and crimes that were being done in private. It was such a fine line in the shadows. He could hear what was happening but he couldn't just rush into someone's private world and fix it. How many last heartbeats had he heard in those years including his parents and know there was nothing he could do about them?

A 16-year-old girl mistakenly drinks too much at a high school party and the football players line up to take their turn with her half conscious body. What had to be turned off inside those attending to just stand around watching, laughing and take pictures of something like that? It all happened in private and something, not enough, was only done when those pictures were posted on the Internet.

Brothers kidnap and chain three young girls in their basement, keeping them slaves for years. The neighbors say they never knew or suspected. Everyone's shocked when it finally becomes public, yet that horror was happening in private for years.

A young man goes off the rails and starts stockpiling weapons and explosives in his apartment. As he goes further over the deep end into madness, no one suspects until he shows up and starts shooting in a movie theater.

These are just a few examples of things that started in private and eventually became public, but how many similar horrors and nightmares never do? Imagine being able to hear all of them as they are happening. If you could, where is the line between public and private? What do you do when you hear all those tragedies unfolding?

Clark had been struggling with this all his life. Yes he heard the good things too, the joy, the love and most of all the laughter that somehow made it almost bearable. Yet for his own sanity he had to tune it out, to cut off the voices or be overwhelmed by them. It was as struggle everyday, to put up those barriers, to wall off those layers, yet always know they were out there.

Concentrating, he took several deep breaths and pulled back on his awareness, silencing the voices. He had a task at hand. Lynch had told him to keep the smart phone with the young alien woman's picture on it and he would call him when he had the visa. He'd picked it up two days ago. Clark knew the phone was a subtle way of trying to track him. He disable the GPS immediately and had taken the phone apart 3 times and put it back together just to make sure Lynch hadn't installed a backup system.

As much as he wanted the temporary visa, he knew it came with risks. Clamping down his desires, he had to be practical. He couldn't trust these people, Clark kept telling himself. Lynch was like the others. He would deal with Clark only until he either got what he wanted or until he could figure out a way to capture and control him.

The temporary visa, Lynch believed it was the hook to reel Clark in. It wasn't. He just wanted something official with his given name on it, Clark Kent. It was a gesture. Sometimes a gesture seems pointless or silly to everyone except the person making it. To Clark this was his way of thanking Jonathan and Martha for all they'd done for him, all they'd sacrificed. He knew he could never repay them but at least their name would continue. It was now official; their son was Clark Kent. He'd buried the visa with them in Smallville. There was no picture on it, but it was the name that mattered.

He'd spent the last three days moving around the country listening to those private, in the shadows, voices. He made calls, so many calls to report those private crimes that rarely got reported. He'd put Lynch's smart phone to good use. He'd better have an unlimited minutes plan or he would be getting a rather large bill at the end of the month. As for the picture of the Starfire, Clark had only needed to see the picture once to remember it. He'd just finished another round of calls to the authorities and now it was time to dump the phone just in case.

He'd struck a bargain with Lynch and as much as he distrusted him, Clark was a young man of his word. He would free the young woman, but his way.

The Watchtower

Diana moved through the hallways, saying hello to her teammates when she saw them. She liked that she wasn't the only woman in the League anymore, but she also realized why the new additions were made. While she was young and new to the world, Arthur wasn't the only one that understood how palace politics worked. Her mother was the Queen of the Amazons, so Diana had been well schooled in how things worked behind the scenes.

There was a rivalry for leadership between Batman and Aquaman. Both saw themselves as the natural leader of the group and had made moves to cement their position. Each had their strengths. The tit for tat inductions of Mera and Dinah weren't a coincidence. Diana had also noticed a subtle shift recently in the dynamics of the group. At all the public functions, her name was always on the list near the top. Batman had stopped attending any of them, while Aquaman was always gracious, allowing her to take center stage when the reporters and the questions started.

She was 18 and they just assumed she was naïve, but Diana saw clearly what was happening. The two older men, Bruce and Arthur, were propping her up as some sort of figurehead or public face for the League. At first she had been privately angry about it, but then she remembered something her mother had taught her. Perceptions can change in the blink of an eye. If others wish to underestimate you, let them and use it to your advantage. If Bruce and Arthur wanted to present her as a leader of the League, then Diana would start acting like the leader of the League. Tactics in battle were only part of being a leader. Cultivating relationships also mattered. To this end, Diana had made it a point to get to know her teammates, especially the younger ones like herself.

So as she walked by the makeshift computer room, she saw Billy staring intently at one of the screens. At first she suspected he was playing one of those infernal games he seemed constantly enthralled by, but as she took a closer look she saw he was looking at news articles. That seemed out of character for him, as despite his large size he just seemed younger than the rest.

"What are you reading Billy?" She asked.

He fumbled at first, caught off guard by her and then quickly turned the monitor off before standing up and blocking it from her view. He gave her a nervous smile and tried to sound more confident then he was.

"Hey, Diana, what's up with you?"

"I was wondering what you were so interested in, Billy,' she replied, gesturing towards the monitor he seemed intent on hiding.

"Nothing."

"Billy."

"Look, it wasn't porn or anything, Diana,' he blurt out. "Batman already gave me the lecture about these being for work only, so we're cool, no worries."

"Um, well, that's good to know,' Diana hesitantly replied. "I noticed you were looking at news stories, though, and that doesn't seem like you."

"Hey, I'm a man of the world,' he offered with a big smile. "I like to stay on top of all the, you know, stuff, going on."

"The stuff?"

"Yeah."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Billy, I won't tell anyone what you were looking at,' Diana replied. "Unless it really is pornography, in which case you and I along with Mera and Dinah will be having a long talk."

"It wasn't porn, promise, besides, who reads porn?" Billy asked.

"So what was it?" Diana asked.

"You'll think it's stupid."

"I promise I won't,' Diana assured him.

Reluctantly Billy stepped aside and turned the monitor back on. Diana moved closer and read the article on the screen. It was another account of people saying Death had helped them. She looked at Billy.

"I thought we all discussed this and you understood it really wasn't Death that you saw in Metropolis, Billy?"

"Yeah, I know and you're guys are probably right,' Billy admitted. "It's just that it sure looked like Death and the way it backhanded Hal halfway across the city and all was pretty awesome."

"It was someone with powers, Billy, like you and me," Diana stated.

"That's what you all say and I guess I believe you,' Billy replied. "It's just that it got me thinking. I've been looking around trying to see if there are any other reports of something like that happening. I found some Diana, all over the country."

"What? What do you mean?" Diana asked in surprise.

"Something or someone is helping people," Billy explained. "It's not the figure of Death like I saw, you know with the scythe and the cloak, but some thing is out there, in the shadows."

Diana could see he was serious.

"Show me what you've found, Billy."

New Gammora

The private jet eased to a stop next to the terminal and the door opened a few moments later. Donning his sunglasses, 19-year-old Dick Grayson smiled as he stepped out into the noonday sun. While they had their differences, Dick was still technically part of Bruce Wayne's family, so when he showed up at Gotham airport with the flight plan the pilots didn't think anything of it. Being associated with Wayne Enterprises also helped smooth his entrance into the tightly control island nation of New Gammora. The fact that Bruce didn't know and probably would be pissed was just an added bonus.

Local officials were waiting to great him as he walked down the staircase. Officially he was here to scout possible investment opportunities for Wayne Enterprises. The authoritarian, dictatorial regime was always welcoming to western companies looking to cut costs by outsourcing their manufacturing. Their favorable labor laws and taxes made it a haven for big business, especially those that didn't want to look too closely at things like working conditions,safety regulations or environmental concerns.

The real reason Dick was there was simple, Koriand'r. While their relationship was all but over, that didn't mean he didn't still care for her. When he heard through the grapevine she was being held prisoner here, he knew he had to come. Why she was here in the first place was something of a mystery that he was still piecing together, but that took a backseat to her safety.

As the officials ushered him towards the waiting limos, Dick's phone went off. He begged their pardon and answered it.

"What the hell are you doing with my jet, Dick?" Bruce demanded immediately.

"Bruce!" Dick said with a smile for the benefit of the local officials. "Yes, had a wonderful flight here to New Gammora! Just arrived, actually."

"I already know where you are, damn it," Bruce snapped on the other end of the line. "I want to know why you're there? It's the girl, isn't it?"

"Yes, Bruce, the weather is perfect here,' Dick replied. "How's it back in Gotham?"

"Damn it, you're going in there halfcocked and don't know the situation. You steal one of my planes in some stupid attempt to save her when you don't even know why she was there in the first place, do you?" Bruce growled. "Did you forget everything I taught you? Get back on that plane right now, make whatever excuses you want, and come back to Gotham now."

"You want a souvenir, you say?" Dick replied. "One of those funny hats that look like a triangle? Done, Bruce, I'll pick one up as soon as I get to the hotel. Now I have to go, the nice people from the government are waiting for me. Bye!"

"Damn it, Dick! …" Bruce started to shout, but the phone went dead in his hand. Dick Grayson smiled at the officials.

"He's sorry he couldn't be here," Dick offered with a frown. "I apologize for the interruption, I'll just turn my phone off so that won't happen again."

New Gammora

You didn't need a passport or an entrance visa if you weren't arriving by plane or ship, which Clark wasn't. He flew low over the ocean, making sure he was invisible to radar or satellites. He landed on the uninhabited rocky coast and quickly disappeared into the heavy jungle. He could see the capital in the distance and guessed that was where they were holding the young woman. He figured he'd scout around and listen before he did anything. In the back of his mind, Clark kept thinking Lynch hadn't told him everything, so he wanted to be careful. Reading up on Princess Koriand'r he realized her abilities were similar to his, so whatever they were using to hold her had the potential to work on him. Clark wouldn't put it past Lynch to have set this all up to capture him and the young woman was just bait for the trap.

Dressed in black, he slipped on the lightweight mask he'd made and silent headed towards the capital. Cameras seemed to everywhere in the world and the last thing he wanted was to be capture on tape halfway around the world breaking someone out of prison. Too much attention would only bring more heat to him and that was the last thing he wanted.