HEY GUESS WHO'S NOT DEAD! But seriously, I'm sorry for how long this took to get out. Not only did the chapter refuse to be written, but the computer I work on decided to be all butt-sy and not charge, leaving me computerless for almost a week. On the bright side, it's back up (for now...). Anyway, thanks so much for your patience with this and I'm sorry for abandoning you at a cliffhanger like I did. But this chapter has several interesting revelations and I hope you can forgive me for my idiocy. It's also extra long!
The friggin' Justice League. Ra's would kill her, bring her back to life, and then kill her again. After everyone else at the LoS. Her heartbeat skyrocketed. There was no way for this to end well. And yet, the only coherent thought she could iterate was;
"The Justice League handles common murder cases now?" Wonder Woman and Superman shared a look. Clearly, they hadn't been expecting a teenager all alone. Wonder Woman and Superman shared another look. He seemed to be pleading, and she was looking irritated. They seemed to settle the tacit argument when Wonder Woman spoke up.
"Well, little one," Joanna flinched. She wasn't that small. She wasn't small, period, "the couple who of which you speak has been murdered by the Joker. We're waiting to see if he has any other victims. Trying to find a pattern. May I see the card you received the phone number on?" Joanna fumbled, trying to surreptitiously wipe her fingerprints and not get any more on it. She handed it over. Superman finally spoke up.
"How did you receive this?" Joanna cast her mind about.
"I- um, I was sleeping, when a noise woke me up. The window was open, and the card was on the other bed." Wonder Woman raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. The woman wasn't intimidating at all.
"Which bed were you sleeping in?" Joanna gestured to the bed that she had slept in the night previous and made earlier the previous morning. She had made sure the cleaning ladies stayed out of her room, so they didn't find anything they shouldn't have. It was tidy enough to pass for "made in a hurry".
"I clean when I'm nervous."
"Understandable."
"So… the Joker was in my room?" Superman looked up from a scan of the room, just before the corner where Joanna had dumped her gear.
"It looks that way, unless he's got a new lackey like Harley Quinn." He picked up with his scan just past the danger zone. Wonder Woman was closely inspecting the card.
"We have to get this to Batman. He'll be able to look more closely than us." Superman looked insulted. "Stop giving me that face, you know it's true."
"Think we should stay and ask her a few more questions?" he gestured to Joanna with his thumb. First they act like she's just a child, now she wasn't even worth a proper noun.
"'Her' has a name!" she burst out. They both looked her direction surprisedly. "I have no idea what's going on," bullshit, "there was this madman in my room while I was sleeping," bullshit, "and now the two people who are supposed to be some of the supposedly 'nicest' people alive," not entirely bullshit, "barely acknowledge my presence! All I honestly want to do is get to sleep, and forget tonight ever happened." True. So very true. She wiped her nose, which had started running. Don't cry, don't cry, DON'T CRY DAMMIT. Superman looked uncomfortable, and Wonder Woman seemed to be having a conversation with the paint on the underside of the roof. Then, through the ceiling, floated Martian Manhunter. Joanna sat down, making a weak noise. Could this night get any worse? He walked – floated? –Over to her. He had a deep, steady voice, something that almost reminded her of Ra's, but Manhunter's voice was deeper than even Ra's'. He sat down next to her.
"What is your name?"
"Katherine Erikson."
"How old are you?"
"Six- no, I just turned seventeen two weeks ago."
"Your parents sent you here alone?"
"Yeah. It was an early graduation present. But, um, we don't spend much time together. So yeah, it's just me." BS. All of it. His giant brow-bones furrowed.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I'm… I'm used to it." BS.
"You said they were in here while you were sleeping?" It took her a moment to remember whom he was talking about.
"Joker? Yes. At least, that was the only time he could've been in here." BS, it was.
"I am going to try and comb your subconscious for any details that might help us. It will only take a moment, and it shouldn't hurt. Do you understand?" Crap crap crap. She tried to clear her mind or focus on something that wasn't the League of Shadows, but there weren't many choices. She started to feel a prodding at the back of her head, before a piercing pain stabbed into her lower brain.
"AGH!" she cried out. Superman and Wonder Woman looked up from their perusal of her bed, looking for… she didn't know and didn't care at the moment. She looked at Martian Manhunter, suddenly feeling less amiable than before. "I thought you said it wouldn't hurt." He looked at her curiously.
"It normally doesn't, believe me. You seem to have formed some kind of… scar tissue around your psyche. Is there anything that might have caused that?" Her mind drifted to a helmet and not being in control of her actions. Her kicking Sportsmaster out of her head. But Manhunter couldn't exactly know that.
"No. Nothing. Could it just be natural?" He looked puzzled.
"It would be extremely rare, but possible."
"I guess it is." She had to get them out of here before they discovered anything they shouldn't. "I, um, I realize this will sound very rude, but would you mind leaving now? I'm really exhausted. I apologize if this interferes with… with the investigation or whatever, but I just… I need to rest." She started wringing her hands. Superman was getting dangerously close to her tools and bloody clothes. He sniffed.
"I smell blood. Are you sure you weren't hurt?" COVER IT. COVER IT COVER IT. She forced a blush and wriggled uncomfortably.
"Um... yes." She didn't make eye contact with either of the men, but shot a meaningful, pleading glance to Wonder Woman. Recognition dawned on her face.
"Ah. Superman, I'm sure the girl is as fine as she is any other time of the month."
"Thank you" Joanna mumbled. The woman's face was hard to lie to. Or the magical lasso, at least.
Superman pressed a hand to his comm. unit. "Hey Batman. Are you still at their house? ... You're at the Batcave? …. We'll be there soon. We also picked up Di-" he shot a glance to Joanna. "Wonder Woman on the way. She'll be coming back with us. Fine, we'll use the zeta-beams. Yes, I know which ones are viable. Lake keeper's cottage in Freizeitpark Tegel. See you in ten." Before they left, Manhunter shot her a comforting look. She could feel him trying to gently prod at her sleep centers, but her scarring was too thick apparently, because she didn't feel anything besides a headache. She shot him a smile anyway. The minute they were out, she closed the window, and went over to the phone and dialed the LoS' number.
"Three league members, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter, are going to Freizeitpark Tegel. They are likely by the lake. A cottage of some sort. They're probably there already." The phone was then handed to Talia on the other end of the line, who asked how she knew.
"I can't explain now, but I will tell you when I get back."
"Jo-"
"Don't say my name. They might have bugged the hotel phone. Talk to you when I get back." She hung up. And with that, towel still in her hair, she fell on to her bad and promptly started snoring.
She woke up the next morning at 1100 hours, feeling physically rested but still emotionally exhausted. She dragged herself down the stairs and out on the street to a small restaurant where she had breakfast. She brought along a laptop (on loan from the LoS), searching nearby locations she could visit. Time to play tourist then go back home. She curiously looked up the Freizeitpark Tegel. The waterfront looked beautiful. Maybe she would sneak past the residential areas to get a better look than Google Maps gave her. She returned to her room to start cleaning up her gear. Just as she was putting away her knife and getting started on her gun the phone started ringing. She was going to shoot that thing.
"Hello?"
"24?" Joanna groaned.
"What Sportsmaster?"
"Lord al Ghul wants us to work together to get rid of the zeta-tube in the free-side-park table place."
"Freizeitpark Tegel. It's by a lake."
"Who freaking cares?"
"The residents of Berlin clearly care. It's one of the favorite parks in this region."
"Bullshit."
"Okay yeah I made that part up. But the rest is true. When and where?"
"At the park, 1800 hours." He hung up. She talked to the air.
"I'll bring a picnic."
When she arrived at the park, having had to ask for directions multiple times, she was already on edge. The sun was hot. The shady spots were few and far between. Her form-fitting t-shirt was uncomfortable; because while it fit her waist fine, she felt like if she leaned over she was going to fall out of it. D-Cups were a heavy burden for any teenage girl, and given the way they had increased in the past few months, it felt like they were multiplying simply to aggravate her. She scanned the park, looking for Sportsmaster.
She sat down on the grass, checked her watch, looked for Sportsmaster, ignored the advances of several pre-teen boys who seemed awfully interested in standing above her and looking down her neckline, and then took a fifteen minute stroll around the park. She found the lake, and the accompanying cottage with the zeta platform, also finding tackle and several pairs of fishing boots inside. By the time she had made her way back to the entrance to the park, Sportsmaster was there and looking very, very pissed off.
"Oi! Buff blonde idiot!" He turned around. "Wow, I really didn't expect you to actually respond to that. I mean, I was hoping, but just…" she snickered. Sportsmaster glowered.
"Don't think I won't hurt you, you thing." Joanna shut up and started glowering back.
"Well won't this be fun. Stuck on a mission with you, and I can't even be snarky. You just expect me to roll over and do whatever you say, don't you? Don't answer that." She closed the distance between them. He raised a hand, but before he could bring it down on her face, she caught it. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear. You touch me, I will hurt you. The only exception is you save my life, which would never happen."
"Because I wouldn't save your life?"
"Because I wouldn't let you." She started walking. He reluctantly followed.
"You really hate me that much?"
"You seem to forget that you once played ping-pong with my mind. Yes, I hate you that much. Does that come as a surprise?"
"I suppose not."
"He can think rationally! Hell freezes over! Stop the presses!"
"I can think rationally! I am your superior, you thing!" She stopped walking and turned around to glare at him.
"And I have a name! I am not 'thing', 'it', 'bitch', or 'whore'. I am Joanna. And you will have to deal with that. You don't have to like me, which would be asking too much, but I do expect the same basic modicum of recognition you give other people. That means no more '24' bullshit."
"And if I say no?" She started walking to the zeta-beam/cottage hybrid again.
"When we get back home I will beat your ass so hard you will wish you had never been born until you accept my basic humanity."
"You think of that hellhole as a 'home'?"
"Given that it's the only place I've ever lived, yes."
They continued in silence, Sportsmaster focusing on the mission, and Joanna trying to. There was something about the man that just irritated her. She thought back to her choppier, more confusing memories, piecing together a scene from her days of greasy hair and smelling gross constantly. Training. Getting her face slammed into a pillar. Being hosed off in the court garden. Okay. Maybe she knew why he irritated her.
"Hey, we've passed that tree twice!" Joanna was shot out of her reverie. She took a quick look at her surroundings, realizing he was right.
"Oh. Um… I was thinking."
"No apology?"
"I don't normally apologize, and I don't think I should say I'm sorry for thinking. I'm often told I'm… dammit what's the word? Pig-headed. Mulish." She paused and started walking again. "The modern English vernacular is so weird sometimes."
"Modern English what? Veneers?"
"Vernacular. 'The language or dialect spoken by the ordinary people in a particular country or region'. In simpler terms, common language."
"Did you just quote a dictionary?" She blushed a bit and scowled.
"Is that a problem?"
"It's weird."
"Says the man who runs around at night wearing a hockey mask." He scowled behind her. The thing had banter. And when it had talked about beating him into the ground, it had actually managed to intimidate him. Well, not intimidate, but the closest approximation his pride could stand.
She stepped through the foliage in front of him, which opened onto the lakeshore. She started walking purposefully to the cottage on the side. It was closer to a decrepit old shack, really, but apparently it served the league's purposes.
"I'm guessing you have whatever we're using to destroy the eyesore because I know I certainly don't." Sportsmaster raised an eyebrow at her question.
"I have nothing whatsoever. I assumed you'd have everything."
Joanna mumbled under her breath. "Assuming makes an ass of you and me." Then, to Sportsmaster, "I got nothing. We could try kicking it down. It would probably work, speaking honestly. And then use the debris to destroy the actual platform itself."
"Idiot. That might work for the shack, but the platforms are made of something pretty difficult to destroy. I don't know what it is, but it's resistant to half dead wood from old buildings."
Joanna wisely bit back a response about "half dead wood" and continued brainstorming.
"How much does an average platform weigh?"
"Why?"
"Well, even if they'd have to be water resistant with Atlantis and all, they would probably have to be specifically proofed for that, or have regular repairs or something. Water plus technology equals broken technology, right? We are next to a lake." Sportsmaster nodded, seeing where this was going. "So, water, pressure, and the constant nibbling from fishies spells doom for the zeta platform."
"Sounds like it might work. But what happens when the League finds out?"
"This will sound rude but supervillians usually ignore Germany, with the exception of the Von Gunthers, and they are both in their eighties now, so they will not pose a threat. The only thing we might have to worry about is an alien invasion, which we are scheduled for in eight-ish months. The League will have no reason whatsoever to come here. They were pushing domestic deployment treaties for peacetime in coming here last night, even if they aren't an official army."
"I stopped listening around the Von Gunthers, but the basic message is 'nobody gives two shits about Germany', right?" Joanna pulled a face.
"Plenty of people care about Germany. But yes, that was the point, if a little more crude."
"Cry me a river. Between the two of us, can we lift it?"
"That's why I asked you how much a platform weighs."
"No clue. But let's get going and find out." He headed to the shack. Joanna followed.
"Wait! We should sweep the area, to make sure nobody else is here." She did a quick run around, leaving Sportsmaster in careful reflection on life for fifteen minutes. "Life", meaning "booze and women". Maybe he'd call a hooker later; god knew he hadn't time lately for any escapades. When Joanna came scampering back, he saw her trying rather futilely to keep her breasts from flying about with an irritated expression. He grinned devilishly.
Joanna, on the other hand, was shooting daggers at her bustline. There she had been; clearing the area, when out of nowhere something hit her face. At first she thought it might have been a soccer ball or something similar, but when she looked there was nothing of the sort. She continued on. She got back up to speed, when again something hit her face. She scanned the area for any sign of pranksters, finding nothing. She started moving again, now on alert. The third time something had approached her face, she had caught it one handedly, and had seen her hand holding back her very own breast. Needless to say, she was not amused.
She moved back to where Sportsmaster was with a very unpleasant expression on his face, and whapped the side of his head.
"Let's get going, slowpoke." She walked into the "cottage" and started kicking down the wall nearest the lake. It was old and feeble enough that she managed it alone, and as Sportsmaster walked in she was positioning herself on one side of the shiny platform, bending at the knees and getting a grip on the underside of it. Sportsmaster looked down at her rather condescendingly, as it was his manner, but bent as well and grabbed onto the side.
"Ready?" he asked.
"On three. One," breath, "Two," brace, "three," lift. Joanna grunted. How heavy was this thing? Lift with your legs, she reminded herself. She started to straighten out her legs, only to see that Sportsmaster had lifted his end higher than hers. Don't you dare lose to him, Joanna Marie! Don't you dare! Her eyes blazed. In a sudden burst of unknown strength, she managed even out with him. Good girl. She choked out words.
"Start- start moving it- onto its side." She glanced at his irritatedly confused face. Did the man ever have positive emotions? She groaned exasperatedly. "Like a coin, dumbo. Then- roll it in-" sharp inhalation, "to the lake. We can't carry it the- whole. Bloody. Way!" he grunted in acknowledgement. "Good. Push your side up;" breath, "you're taller than me. I'll push down and then into the lake it goes." After a few more strenuous minutes of shoving and ladylike grunting, Joanna was satisfied with the angle of the platform. "Ready?" she breathlessly asked Sportsmaster.
"Give- Give me a minute."
"'Kay." She discreetly rolled her eyes. Old people. But after Sportsmaster had caught his breath they started pushing the disc to the shoreline.
"You're sure nobody's around?"
"Wasn't anyone ten minutes ago, and this area is actually on just on the border of an academy whose name I can't pronounce, so the most we'd have to worry about would be a wayward student, and they aren't likely to come here." Sportsmaster shrugged, doubts taken care of for the moment. They continued with the platform-turned-disc when Joanna saw a child in the water, which, due to Murphy's Law, was smack dab in the middle of the platform's path. Alarm sprang into Joanna's eyes like wildfire.
"Stop the platform!"
"What?"
"There's a kid out there, we need to stop it!"
"The kid?"
"The friggin' platform, genius!"
"If he has half a brain he'll hear it and leave!" Joanna started screaming at the boy to run, but the biggest reaction she got was when he turned to look for the fish he had felt pass his leg. He was about five, treading water several meters away from the shoreline. He couldn't wait to surprise his mutti with how good he could swim!
On Joanna's side of things, the atmosphere wasn't near as cheerful. The platform had reached the edge of the water, about ten feet away from the boy.
A ripple caused by the disc reached him. He looked around expectantly for his mutti but was sorely disappointed to see a strange round thing coming towards him and two people with it. The lady seemed to be trying to hold it back, but the man seemed to be yelling at her and kept pushing it towards him. The lady, seeing that it was useless to try and stop the man, started slogging through the water to him. He saw her mouth form words, and her flail her arms, but he was petrified in fear. She was closer now, but so was the round thing. And the round thing was getting faster.
The water was up to Joanna's knees and the boy was still almost four feet away. She pushed herself even more but the combined stress of a mission, nearly being murdered, having to work with Sportsmaster and lifting approximately 250 pounds in the past 24 hours was taking its toll on her. She forced it out of her mind, calling up every ounce of determination and training she had, and in a moment lengthened by clarity, she saw the bald headed truth. There was no way for this to go where both she and the boy went unharmed. Her Cadmus training kicked in. Save yourself. Get out. Don't be seen. No! Override it. Override it! She forced herself to continue to the boy. Reached him a millisecond before the platform. Shoved him out of the way. Heard, in almost slow motion, Sportsmaster yell out "Dragon's teeth!" Felt herself fall and the platform roll over her midriff, heard something snap. Felt everything go black.
On the Shoreline:
"Johann! Herzchen! Wo bist du?" a woman, close to hysterics, screamed on the shore. A little girl, two or three, clung to her mother's skirt.
"Mutti? Wo ist Johann?" The blonde woman swallowed her fear and looked at her little Ilse.
"Er sagte, er wolle Schwimmen. Er ist noch nicht zurück." Irena Holzfäller shaded her eyes and searched for the figure of her son.
The appearance of the two didn't go unnoticed by one Lawrence Crock, who receded into the treeline. The brat should have stayed out of the way.
Little deaf Johann, however, was searching for the lady who had just saved his life. He paddled over to where she had gone down, pulled on his goggles and dove. He saw her at the bottom of the lake in that space, about ten feet down, pinned by the weird round thing. She wasn't breathing.
He surfaced and saw his mutti on the shore, and, as he looked for someone strong enough to lift the thing, his eyes landed on the man who tried to stop the lady in the water. He started to swim over, waving to his mütterchen. She started to run over, his baby sister now in her arms.
Johann reached the shore and started pulling on the man's pant leg, and gesturing to the spot where the lady was.
Time for German translations!
Mutti: mama
Herzchen! Wo bist du?: Darling/ducky! (don't ask, I don't know) Where are you?
Wo ist Johann?: Where is Johann?
Mütterchen: mother
Er sagte, er wolle Schwimmen. Er ist noch nicht zurück.: He said he was going swimming. He is not back yet.
Also yes, Johann is deaf. Just thought I should clarify that, in case it wasn't clear from the whole "he couldn't hear Joanna screaming at him to get the hell out of the way" thing. Also, everything I know about Germany and the German language comes from the lovely folks at Google.
Oh and the "boob hitting face" phenomena actually happened to a friend of mine.
R&R and the next chapter will (hopefully) be out quicker because I'll feel like I have a responsibility to you guys!
Edit: Changed the "Demon's servant" to "Dragon's teeth" because that actually had the connection with the Cadmus of greek mythology, who sowed dragon's teeth and and thus used the greatest members of the army that rose up to found the city of Thebes.