(Author's note: Just a reminder, this story takes place in 'The Flash' timeline, but Arrow doesn't exist, so part of 'Flash vs. Arrow' happened: Barry getting infected by Roy Bivolo and the fight with Oliver (Justin Hartley, not Stephen Amell), but 'Arrowverse' exists on an alternate Earth—thank you, multiverse, for making this possible!)
Martha sat at the kitchen table, damaged photo frames pictures, and broken knickknacks, set off to the far side. Some of the objects could be fixed, while some were beyond repaired, but Martha didn't care at the moment; she silently stared at the photo in her hands: a group shot of all four Kents taken shortly after Linda's arrival last year. The woman focused on the image of her daughter, her eyes dancing with energy behind her glasses as she grinned at the camera.
Martha looked over as the kitchen door opened, and Jonathan walked in, followed by Gar and Barry, who dressed in his costume with the cowl off; all three of them carried empty cans of yellow-tinted paint brushes and empty cans. They put them on the nearby kitchen counter, their expressions somber as Martha, still holding the photo in her hand, stood up.
"Well, the outside looks good," Jonathan said, his voice softer than normal.
Martha looked at Barry and Gar. "Thank you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "both of you."
"No problem," Barry replied, before he glanced around the interior. "Does everything in here look okay?" Everything that had been damaged during the altercation with Linda had been repaired or replaced, paid by Oliver and delivered by Barry (who hadn't hesitated to help after Oliver had informed him of the situation.) The speedster had done most of the work, but he knew Jonathan and Gar needed to keep busy, so all three of them had worked together to paint the fence, porch, and exterior of the house.
Martha nodded. "Yes," she replied, sincerely. The interior had been fixed so well that no one, save for those who had witnessed it, would have known there had been a violent confrontation less than two hours earlier. The woman glanced at Gar, who appeared lost and exhausted. "Gar, I know your parents are out of town, but why don't you go home and get some rest? We'll call you the moment we hear anything."
Gar shook his head. "I'm staying here until Linda comes back," he said determinedly. He slowly glanced up at Jonathan and Martha, expecting them to be upset, but they just looked at him with understanding.
"Okay," Jonathan replied, nodding.
Gar wordlessly trudged into the living room and flopped onto the couch. Krypto and Streaky, who had been cowering under the couch since Linda's departure, tentatively crawled out. The two animals sniffed at Gar's feet and, recognizing him, hopped up on the couch; they nuzzled close to the teenager, who absentmindedly scratched their ears as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Barry watched the teenager with sympathy, thinking back to the time he'd been affected by Roy Bivolo; even a year later, the repercussions of that incident—and subsequent confrontation with Oliver—still resonated deeply with Barry. The speedster could only imagine how Gar felt at the moment, having to fight one of his closest friends, and Barry didn't even want to think about how this was going to affect Linda; he knew she carried a tremendous weight on her shoulders—and this was going to completely devastate her.
When he glanced over at Jonathan and Martha, Barry saw the farmer with his arm around his wife as she leaned her head against him; the young man could tell that their eyes were bright with tears as they fought to keep their composure.
"We will find her," he said softly, "I promise. We'll bring her home." The Kents didn't say anything, but Jonathan swallowed the lump in his throat before nodding, and Barry knew he was no longer needed at the farm. "I'm gonna go catch up with Clark and Ollie." He quietly walked to the front door and opened it, pausing a moment to glance over his shoulder at the couple; he pulled his cowl back over his face, took in a deep breath, and headed out the door in a blur of yellow lighting.
Night had fallen, and the wind had an icy bite as it channeled through the buildings of Metropolis, but it wasn't enough to diminish the activity outside the Atlantis nightclub; lights flashed, and people huddled behind a roped-off area, pulling their jackets and coats close, protesting and begging to be allowed to get past the two guards flanking the doors to the front entrance.
Marty Feldman stood at the front of the line, pretending to check the clipboard in his hands, smirking to himself as he listened to their offers of money and—from some of the women—promises to 'make it worth his while;' his job didn't have many perks to it, but by the end of his shift he'd always managed to follow through with at least one of those 'promises.'
The sound of a loud engine interrupted the cacophony, and everyone looked over as a red Lamborghini pulled up to the curb; everyone stared as the door opened and a slender leg emerged from the car. Linda stepped out, still dressed in her black attire, donning her sunglasses; she raised them up to looked around, a suggestive smile on her face, as she held a small black clutch in her free hand. Lowering her sunglasses, she handed the car key to a young man who didn't appear to be too much older than herself, amused at his glassy-eyed expression as he all but drooled at her appearance.
Linda patted his cheek before strolling past the crowd; she didn't have to look over to know the attention of everyone in line was directed at her; she ignored most of the comments directed at her, but then her super-hearing picked out a low, masculine voice out of the crowd:
"I'd tap her in a heartbeat."
The young girl stopped and turned around, just in time to see the guy getting slapped by a girl—presumably is girlfriend—before she stormed off, leaving the guy to rub his cheek as others around him snickered with amusement.
"So, what," Linda said as she crossed her arms as she walked over to him, staying on the other side of the rope, "you thought you could make some innuendo, and I'd get all weak in the knees and beg you to take me to your place for a quick romp in the sheets?"
"Actually, I was just thinking the alley around back, sweetie," the guy replied, smirking down at her, "but I'm still game if you are."
Linda glanced down at his crotch briefly, snorting, before looking back up and giving him a sickly, sweet smile. "Not interested," she replied, "but if I ever have a shortage of toothpicks, I'll know where to find one."
The guy's smile quickly faded as others around him snickered and laughed; his face slowly turned red as his expression contorted into anger. "You little bitch," he snarled as he quickly raised a clenched fist and swung it at Linda; the young girl easily leaned back, and the guy's fist followed through—slamming right into the nose of a guy standing next to him.
The first guy's face drained of color, his eyes growing wide, as the second guy glared at him—before his own fist connected with the first guy's face; soon, the two men were brawling as people scattered, and both security guards and Marty scrambled over. Taking advantage of the distraction, Linda sauntered casually over to the entrance and let herself in.
Loud, fast-paced music blared at full volume out of every speaker, lights flashed wildly, and couples packed the dance floor, grinding provocatively to the beat of the song. Linda ignored the looks some of the guys were giving her as she scanned the area, finally spotting a lone staircase nearby leading to a large, private balcony; the young girl made her way through the crowd and climbed the stairs.
Richard Maverick sat on the long plush black sofa, a couple of young girls on either side, teasing him and giggling as he drank his martini. Other people, about thirty in total, were spread out among the tables and chairs, drinking and mingling. Richard glanced over as Linda reached the top of the stairs, and he stopped with his glass midway to his lips as she removed her sunglasses and their eyes met.
Richard raised an eyebrow as he slowly smiled, sizing her up; his expression clearly showed he was calculating what could be a very hot, little tumble. He glanced around and saw his guests were also captivated by the young girl, with most of the men—and some of the woman—staring at her, all thinking about the odds of scoring their own personal encounter with her. He quickly got to his feet, crossing the room before anyone else took the initiative.
"Well, hello," he said, smiling. "Looking for a good time, honey?"
"Actually, I'm looking to be alone," Linda replied, unimpressed.
"You sure, sweetie?" Richard pressed. "I can clear everyone out, and you and I can be alone together."
Linda stared at him, and a slow smile spread across her face. "Well, it is my birthday," she replied after a few moments, smiling, never taking her eyes from his.
"Oh, then let me give you a present you'll never forget," Richard said, smiling before glancing around at his guests. "Party's over, everyone! Beat it!" Richard heard the grumbles and murmurs of protest—and a few less-than-savory names aimed at the girl—but he ignored them as he looked back at Linda, keeping his eyes locked with hers; a few moments passed before the two were the by themselves.
"So," Richard continued, still smiling, as he stepped closer to Linda, "ready for that gift?"
"You mean," Linda said slowly, folding her arms, "am I ready for you to bend me over one of those chairs so you can live out your sick, twisted fantasy of banging a blonde nubile?"
"When you say it like that," Richard replied, wondering how she could possibly know what he was thinking, but feigning hurt as he caressed one of her cheeks with his finger, "you make it sound like I'm a creepy pervert." He moved his finger slowly down her neck and chest before stopping at her waistline. "I just think it's a shame that someone as hot as you is all by yourself on your birthday, and I was willing to take time out of my busy schedule to cheer you up. Trust me, I'm really very gentle."
Never taking her eyes from his, Linda grabbed Richard's wrist—and deftly snapped it to the side; Richard shouted as he felt multiple bones break, excruciating pain shooting up his arm to his shoulder as his entire body shook. Before he could react, Linda grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand and hoisted him high over her head, her face twisted in an angry glare.
"Every day I have to put up with people like you," she growled, "all of you staring at me, leering at me. I see it in your eyes what you're thinking, hear in your own words what you want to do with me." She tossed him to the side, and Richard went sailing through the air; he slammed into the wall over the couch, leaving the wall cracked from his impact before he crumpled onto the black cushions, groaning in pain. "And I'm sick of it!"
Richard grunted as he pushed through the pain and he used his good hand to reach into his jacket; he pulled out a gun, aiming it right at the young girl. "Too bad," he growled as he glared at Linda. "We could have had a really good time tonight." He pulled the trigger, seeing the flash of gunpowder, the bang muffled by the loud music. Less than a split second later, the gun was yanked out of his hand as Richard saw the girl towering over him; his eyes widened as she held up the fired bullet between her thumb and index fingers.
"What the hell?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Guessing you've never heard the term 'faster than a speeding bullet,'" Linda replied before throwing the projectile to the side; she crushed the gun like a soda can before tossing it, then grabbed Richard and hoisted him up. "You know what happens to an egg when it's rapidly heated in its shell?" Her eyes flashed bright orange, and Richard tensed and closed his eyes.
"Put him down."
Linda looked over when she heard the familiar voice and saw the tall figure standing at the top of the stairs; he wore a crisp, black suit, his black hair was slicked back, and he stared at the young girl, almost like his green eyes were trying to pierce her soul. Only slightly unnerved, Linda rolled her eyes before casually tossing Richard into the wall; the man crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
"And you say I never listen to you," Linda replied as she smirked at her cousin.
"You need to stop this," Clark warned her. "That bracelet is making you dangerous; you need to take it off."
"This bracelet is making me free," Linda retorted. "How could you not tell me about this sooner? Were you trying to keep it all for yourself, just so you could watch me suffer everyday?"
"That's not true, and you know it," Clark said.
"Well, true or not," Linda replied calmly as she folded her arms, "I'm not going to take this bracelet off—and there's nothing you can do that will make me change my mind."
Clark stared at her for a few moment—and Linda could have sworn she saw a brief flash of sympathy wash over his eyes—but that moment was interrupted when her cousin suddenly charged her at full speed; he moved faster than Linda's ever seen him, and she didn't have time to react as he blurred behind her and deftly grabbed her in a tight bear hug before flying up, crashing through the ceiling and heading skyward.
Linda struggled as they gained altitude, but Clark kept his grip tight as he flew high in the sky; he ignored the words and threats she shouted at him as soared out of Metropolis. A few moments later, he changed direction, heading back toward the earth; Linda stopped squirming when she saw them heading for a large construction site. Before she could react, Clark let her go about a hundred feet in the air, and the young girl slammed into ground, kicking up a large cloud of dust as she tumbled and rolled for a good fifty feet before stopping; the teenager groaned a little, slightly stunned by the force but unhurt. Annoyed, she slowly got to her feet, dusting off her clothes as she looked around, finally spotting Clark standing fifty feet away, just staring at her.
"You think bringing me here is going to get me to change my mind?" she asked angrily.
"No," Clark replied calmly, "we just want to minimize the damage that will most likely ensue as a result of this confrontation."
Linda tilted her head, staring at him. "So, is my cousin going to joining us," she asked, "or is he having you do all the dirty work for him?"
'Clark' didn't say anything as his entire body appeared to ripple. In an instant, where her 'cousin' had been stood a tall, well-built man with green skin, red eyes, and no hair; he wore a black suit with a red emblem on his chest, and a blue cape and matching boots. "Your cousin simply wants to see you safely home," he replied.
Linda didn't look the least bit surprised by his appearance. "The Martian," she replied with a smirk; she bowed, her body language and tone clearly mocking his presence. "I finally have the pleasure of meeting the great J'onn J'onzz."
"Linda," J'onn said calmly, "Clark is very worried about you."
"So, he sends you to bring me in?" Linda asked, folding her arms.
"You're refusing to listen to reason," J'onn replied, "and you're hurting those around you in the process."
"If you know what I've done," Linda said, "you should've known better than to face me alone."
"Who says I came alone?" J'onn asked, glancing over her shoulder.
Linda turned around and stopped short when she saw group of six costumed people standing in front of her. Her cousin, Batman, Green Arrow, and the Flash were the most recognizable to her, but it didn't take a genius to figure out the identities of the others.
The first man was tall, with two large feathered wings protruding from his back; he wore a short-sleeved, brown leather tunic, matching brown pants and boots, and clutched a large spiked mace in his right hand. His blue eyes stared at Linda from behind a winged hawk cowl, his jaw set.
The man standing next to him had brown hair and blue eyes, and he wore a green and black jumpsuit with a green lantern emblem on his chest, white gloves, green boots, and a matching green domino mask; the glowing green ring on his right middle finger pulsated with green energy.
Linda simply smiled, unfazed by the presence of the people standing in front of her. "Well, this is truly an honor," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "The mighty Justice League."
(End of Chapter 11)