Hey everyone! Finally got this chapter edited to my liking. (Shout out to Dark Goddess of Shadows for beta reading a few parts for me!)
So, as mentioned earlier in this story: the Justice League got together in similar ways to that of the Justice League Animated story. White Martian invasion, J'onn's supposedly the only Green Martian left, and everything else.
I still do not own Young Justice. (It should be on my bucket list, though.)
Enjoy!
October 2, 9:26 AM
Washington DC
A crack of light broke into the room. It was an irregularity; Muse's only visitor was Lampads, and the man was currently working towards their final plan. She refused to turn and greet the other, however. Knowing that he had come down provided her with enough amusement.
"Should I call you Doctor Fate or Nabu?" she asked. "It makes no difference to me."
"You shouldn't be alive," the being replied back. Muse could hear the voice of Zatara underneath the power. She wondered how much the human -
(poor man)
-understood of the situation.
"Yes, you did see to that. Death, however, was only a hindrance. The truth always rises up in some fashion or another." She closed her eyes, the memory of her own death playing out before her. "What allowed you to believe that you could get away with this?"
"It was for the greater good. The others understood it," Fate said.
"It may just be a matter of perspective then. For you, it is the greater good. For us, it's watching a scorned lover." She smiled. "The game is ending, Fate."
The sliver of light was suddenly gone. She wondered if Fate would have responded if the situation was different.
(you'll understand soon)
October 2, 9:59 PM
location unknown, coordinates unknown
The red fields appeared graceful before him, despite their barren appearance. The Martian knew better than to believe it to be a bad sign; the land was still recovering from the war with the White Martians and progress was slow. But still the land, along with the Green Martians, had survived. All he had to do was turn and look behind him for a testament of their strength.
The knowledge, however, did nothing to the unease that he felt every time he looked out.
J'onn J'onzz frowned. There was an unnamed force that drew him to the fields every morning. It was the same force that created the sense of lost and sadness within him when he looked at the landscape. He had searched through his mind several times for the source. The final result was the discovery of a mental block over some of his memories. His wife had assured him that the mental block was of his own creation, yet there was still some lingering curiosity-
(danger)
-that prompted him to look through his mind every few weeks.
"Does it hurt?"
The human voice was not as surprising to hear as it would have been decades ago; technology and inter-planet relationships had both improved since the beginning of the rebuilding. The two races intermingled for the benefit of both. J'onn had even contemplated taking up the offer to join the Justice League.
(but already a member doesn't make sense)
The Martian banished the thought as he turned away from the barren land. "I'm afraid that I don't know who you are, madam."
There was more that he wanted to say, but the words were suddenly trapped in his throat at the sight of her. It was a female human that stood before him. She was older than most of the humans that traveled to Mars. Her eyes were harsh, although there was something familiar in her anger. The shocking factor was her clothing; she was only wearing a black jumpsuit. There was no sign of any breathing equipment.
"You, out of all of them, should know what it is like to lose everything in a short amount of time. To have a family snatched from you because some group of people felt like being gods." The tension tightened in her voice as she spoke. The volume, however, never increased. "My husband had such a hard time understanding that you had betrayed us as well."
Fragments-
(memories dreams illusions?)
-scattered in the Martian's mind, flashing through impossibly fast. The images would not stay with him. The pain, anger, and anguish that they left behind, however, seared themselves into his psyche.
Still, J'onn did not understand. "Husband?"
"I want to show you something first." The woman opened her arms and spread them as if she were a bird. A red glare outlined her figure, drawing the Martian's attention to the scene behind her.
(no)
Fire ravaged the buildings behind the human, flames licking everything up to the horizon. The red landscape that shaped the area seemed aggressive. Marks of damage mimicked burnt scars that the Martian had seen before. Screams, both physical and mental, ripped through J'onn's senses.
"I want to remind you of how it felt," the woman said. "Just imagine how your betrayal hurt so much more."
Fear and rage rose in the Martian. "I don't even know you!" The words felt hollow, even to himself. Something within him protested their use.
"You'll remember soon," she promised. "Do not worry about that."
A wave a pain overtook the Martian, bringing him to his knees. The dust beneath his hands crumbled away into nothing. Everything was losing their color and shape.
(no no NO)
Mars disappeared underneath his hands. Darkness took the rest away, before devouring his body as well.
October 2, 10:17 PM
Washington DC
Clark looked down at the Martian's unconscious form. It had been five years since J'onn was lost to his illusions. He had walked around the Watchtower's floors with no aim, muttering about Mars as he did.
No one was sure how to break the illusion; J'onn was their expert in the mental fields, and no one was willing to trust M'gann-
(niece? lie)
-to do the job. Instead the League had turned to research and numerous tests, only to fail in every attempt.
The situation had gotten worse when J'onn started to attack the Watchtower. Clark had to subdue the Martian several times with fire, only for J'onn to slip away and start again. Bruce had eventually subdued the other and teleported him to the Earth-bound headquarters. But the damage was done. There was no way to save the Watchtower without rebuilding the physical and computer structure.
(and the casualty)
Bruce had said that bringing the Watchtower back to its formal glory was impossible at the time. The man was right as usual; the Justice League was in a decline and resources were strained from the last time Brainiac attacked. The League, therefore, began the process of dismantling the satellite station. Most of the material was added to the remains of the headquarters in Washington DC. J'onn was placed into a medical coma to prevent any more damage.
Clark sighed. He looked at the Martian's face, wondering what his friend had seen. "We didn't lose the Watchtower because of you. I hope you know that."
(can he hear me?)
"From what Bruce said of that night, Muse-" He paused to correct himself. "-Paula came. We don't understand how. Diana thinks that Paula wanted revenge.
"I still don't understand how Bruce could become a monster. Even after… everything, it doesn't make sense. The Bruce Wayne I knew wouldn't have killed anyone. Something was wrong. We're trying to save them. We're doing the right thing."
(we always do the right thing we saved Bruce we'll save them all)
"Batman would have wanted to be stopped. He made backup plans and told us he'd rather be killed by one of us instead of becoming a monster. We failed them."
Clark shut his eyes. Details were swarming in his head. "It… it wasn't our fault for that night, either. Fate was right not to tell us everything until it was too late. And Bruce understands sacrificing for the greater good. The Bruce Wayne-" He paused, his mouth already correcting his statement. "The Batman I knew would have allowed it if we were able to tell him beforehand. We didn't understand then; we were blindsided. But we did the right thing. We had to let them die."
(did we?)
"We lost the Watchtower. We're losing support from the outside world. But this is not as bad as what could have happened. We did the right thing."
(would Lois agree?)
The question made him cringe. It had been five years since Clark had last seen Lois Lane. There were no clues to her disappearance. Even Bruce was unable to offer any new insight when Clark had asked for help. The only thing that the Dark Knight said was that it wasn't Lex Luthor's doing; the man had a strong alibi the day of Lois's disappearance and had vanished himself weeks later.
(but there's nothing I can do Bruce proved that)
The frown that was on his faced carved itself deeper. Even with Batman's presence on the Justice League, it seemed that they were no closer to solving most of their problems.
(poor poor thing)
Clark's head snapped up, eyes wide and whirling to find the source of the voice. But there was nothing else in the room; he, J'onn, and the still form of Oliver Queen were the only inhabitants.
(can't be Muse Paula can't be she's locked up)
The beeps from the heart monitor registered into the Kryptonian's conscious as the sound became irregular. Instead of a steady tempo there was a rapid acceleration followed by the struggle to create a new beat.
(freedom help)
J'onn rapidly blinked before his gaze rested on the ceiling. His eyes held something that Clark had not seen for years.
"J'onn!" The Kryptonian's voice could not contain his excitement as the Martian was finally waking. J'onn's heart was quickening, and he was responding to his environment rather than unseen illusions.
(how possible? medical coma)
The curiosity was instantly banished. Clark had grown as wary as the rest, and any sign of a miracle was welcomed. Explanations-
(Bruce knew it was time knew made machines react to brain waves)
-did away with what suspicion remained.
Red eyes blinked at the Kryptonian. There was a sense of lucidness in them, undermined by fear and confusion. The Green Martian flinched in his bed.
"Whoa, easy there!" Clark said soothingly. "Everything is okay."
(everything is finally okay)
October 3, 4:50 PM
Washington DC
J'onn glanced towards Batman's direction before returning his attention to Superman. His mind growled angrily at any attempts to look into their minds; he was having enough trouble sorting through everything that had happened. The memories of the illusion he was trapped in were fighting against reality. His wife and children were once again dead. Nothing remained of Mars except himself and the trapped White Martians.
(M'gann)
Seeing what remained of the Justice League during his time of incapacity only made the problem worse.
"Clark, I do not understand," he said softly. It was a struggle to look at the Kryptonian. "How could public opinion have fallen so low?"
Clark opened his mouth to speak, only to stop himself with a look of pain and confusion. J'onn frowned but waited for him to talk. When it was obvious that Clark would not make another attempt, Bruce spoke.
"The main threat that continues to hinder us is my family."
(no pause where's the pain hides it even now?)
"However, there seems to be a visual problem with potential witnesses. Anyone outside of the Justice League either sees a civilian or nothing at all. They're taking advantage of this and ruining our public image," Bruce said.
A memory flitted across the Martian's mind. "Alfred could not see you that night."
Clark cringed, his mind shooting out waves of panic. They were strong enough to get through to J'onn's mental shields. The Martian frowned, chasing away the emotions as he waited for Bruce to respond.
"Whatever force is affecting the perceptions of others seems to apply to me as well," the human-
(still a human? after everything?)
-said. "Fate has been trying to-"
"Doctor Fate?" The name was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. The Martian could feel himself turning pale. Memories broke out of their confident and ran through his mind, the screams and glares and betrayal-
(stop not now please not now)
Bruce glanced at him from under his cowl. J'onn was sure that the blue eyes were leveling into a glare. "Yes, him. He cannot find any trace of magic that could help him unravel this. As it is, I don't exist."
"I…" The words caught in the Martian's throat. He swallowed and tried again. "I am sorry to hear."
Superman's eyes darted around the room. He was not trembling, but the air that he gave off was disturbed. Bruce, however, seemed to take no notice of it. Instead, he continued, "We can worry about my state of being at another time. Right now you need to be briefed of the current situation."
"Right, of course." J'onn looked around at the room. There were many cracks in the structure, some long enough to go from floor to ceiling without a pause. The room was devoid of furniture, save for a lone table and a few chairs. If there were any forms of security protecting the building, they were not visible. "What happened to the Watchtower?"
The question received a half cough from Superman. Bruce was once again left to answer. "Originally we had planned to leave you in the Watchtower in case you were able to break the illusion yourself. However, we did not account for your numerous escapes. You reacted violently towards your surroundings. We would catch you, and things would begin again. The process was repeated a few times before we came to the decision of placing you in a medical coma."
(no)
J'onn was suddenly unsure if it was his powers that were making his face pale. "I… I created that much damage? Enough to leave the Tower?"
"It wasn't your fault," Clark said instantly. "You were reacting to what you saw as a probable threat."
"But-"
"It was they're fault, not yours." The sky blue eyes turned darker with compassion and sympathy. Superman knew what it was like to destroy things without the intent to; many of his fights damaged property beyond repair.
J'onn's trust in himself, however, was already shattered. "No one was hurt, correct?"
The other two heroes said nothing for a moment. Their eyes met, Bruce's cold stare never wavering while Clark's turned to look at the ground. Something unspeakable had passed between the two. The Martian found himself wanting and dreading the information at the same time.
Once again, it fell onto Bruce to speak. "M'gann was detained in one of the cells in the Watchtower. We had temporarily placed her there as we were renovating the prison cells here."
(no no NO)
"I-" The rest of his words choked him, filled with a mixture of emotions that he could not find the beginning or ending of. The world moved about him, swaying and pulling him down. In utter grief, he collapsed.
"J'onn!" Clark had moved to catch him, but his Martian abilities had phased him through the man.
The concrete floor suddenly flashed into the red soil of Mars. Everything was coming at him.
"You didn't attack her directly," Batman said, sympathy in his voice.
(you gave him sympathy you let his family die)
"The security measures for her cell and the surrounding area used fire as a way to incapacitate her. You attacked the computer with the commands for the area. The system was no longer controlled and the prison block was lit up. No one could have gotten to her in time."
(got what she deserved liar but my niece my family still)
J'onn attempted to speak again. The ground beneath his hands was still trembling. "I- I didn't mean-"
Clark knelt down, looking into the Martian's eyes. "We know. It was an accident."
"But-"
(a liar family she was there she cared she could have lied but did she?)
J'onn turned away, shutting his eyes as he did so. Tears were starting to form.
(what was she to me?)
October 4, 1:00 AM
Gotham City
The music of the club pounded through her body, drowning out the voices of the patrons. The emotions from the humans, however, were still clear. The alcohol seemed to bite harder at her throat.
(only a little longer)
M'gann was amazed at how much the reality before her resembled what she saw on television, yet still managed to have its own plane of existence. All around her dreams, fiction, and reality bled together. The chaotic scene helped her deal with her own reality.
(Uncle)
She took another sip of her drink. The burning sensation filled her once again.
Her eyes were a shade of emerald, unmistakable even in the constantly changing lights. The color shone past her wavy brown hair. The provocative black dress was the other highlight of her appearance, a stark contrast to her pale skin. It made her notable and generic at the same time.
Her one downfall was her inability to not use the name "Megan." She had tried once, only to revert back when a man asked what he could call her that night.
(but I'm still someone else)
"Ready for some fun tonight?" The owner of the voice took the glass out of her hands. The Martian was careful not to glare at him as he tilted his head to down the rest of her drink. He was like the others; a businessman with a narcissistic tick, his mind trapped between his crimes and lust. She hadn't even bothered to remember his name.
"My apartment or yours?" she replied. There was a sudden lull of the music, and she could clearly hear the yells of the drunken patrons. Her own throat tingled with the reminder of alcohol.
"Whichever is closer." He flashed a smile. M'gann resisted the urge to kill him then and there.
She grabbed his hand and led him out of the building. His steps were drunken and slow, but his grip on her was tight. The lust in him grew steadily louder in her mind.
(almost there so close)
"I know a shortcut," she said, her hand tightening around his. The false excitement burned her as much as the alcohol had.
The human made no note of the underlying bitterness in her voice. He continued to smile drunkenly, his eyes never leaving her figure. The hand that enclosed hers was clammy, contrasting with the cold night.
"Seems dan- dan-" He stuttered a few more time. "-dangerous! Good thing you have me around!" The confidence that followed his words only served to irritate her more. He reached to place his free hand on her shoulder. She turned to deflect the gesture-
"Superman is a great man! He would never do any wrong!"
(what?)
The voice that shot through the night air was tinged with alcohol and pure belief. For a moment, the Martian could hear herself in the man's words. The unshakable belief that the Justice League could do no wrong, that her uncle-
(liar uncaring)
-could do no wrong, flooded through her. It had been years since she had heard of such conviction.
Her companion had stopped as well, although his face was contorted for different reasons. "Is that Jimmy Olsen again? God, will that kid ever shut up?"
The young woman mouthed the name, the syllables caressing her tongue. The name was familiar though the memories themselves were hazy. Still, there was something about it that made her want him for herself. She hastily opened her mind to try and find his.
Her companion pulled her into a nearby alley. "Ignore him. Just- Come on, right here."
(where where
there)
She almost shrieked when Jimmy Olsen's thoughts poured into hers. The raw emotions, the unwavering belief, were staggering. There was suddenly an illogical desire to look up to the Justice League. A naïve little Martian, pretending to be an acceptable breed of Martian, was standing amongst the statues. Everyone was happy. They all knew that they were in the right. No one else had the power to stand up to the monsters. The Justice League, Superman in particular, knew right from wrong, would always do the right thing-
(NO)
Her hands were suddenly covered in sticky blood. The Martian blinked, trying to recall what her body did while her mind was occupied. She was in an alley that was bathed in the building's shadows. It was a dense darkness, the kind she often favored for her victims. She was standing directly in front of the brick wall of what was once an office building. The man she was with was slumped against it, surrounded by pieces of the declining area. Blood was rapidly draining from his neck. His eyes were dimming. She looked down and noted his hands were covered in his own blood. The lingering warmth of his fingers, however, rested where her dress met her exposed leg.
"You shouldn't have done that," she muttered.
The man reached up to grab her hand, her dress, anything. She swatted it away. The blood altered the sound of skin meeting skin.
"Mistress doesn't like it when people touch me like that." The young woman offered the man a smile. She stared into his eyes as the life faded from them. Part of her wished that the man hadn't finished off her drink.
When he was finally dead, she leaned over and wiped her hands against his suit jacket. There was no need to worry over any DNA; even if Gotham Police Department consulted the Justice League database, they would be led to a literal dead end.
She listened for Jimmy Olsen's voice again. It was still there, both in the night air of the city and in the sea of minds. Every few moments seemed to inspire a new burst of life in his words. At times they were full of blind faith for the Justice League. At other times, the man was verbally assaulting those around him who couldn't believe as he believed.
(how could he believe in that how did I)
Her clothes morphed with little thought. The small dress lengthened against her thighs, the neckline changing to hide her cleavage. The brown color of her hair turned to her preferred shade of auburn red. Her green eyes, however, remained the same.
M'gann turned towards the open street, ready to track down-
"Wait."
The girl froze at the word. "Mistress!"
"Turn towards me, love."
She followed the command, greeting the sight of the other woman with a smile. Nymph was in her disguise; if M'gann did not know better she would have guessed the older woman to be a librarian. In Nymph's hands was a small, white towel.
"Here, clean your hands first," Nymph said, offering the towel.
"Yes Mistress." The Martian took the towel into her hands, the moisture cool as the night air. She began to remove the blood slowly.
Nymph smiled at the title. "Sweet little M'gann. No wonder all those bad men want my little Succubus." She kneeled, lifting the hemline of the dress slightly. The woman placed a small kiss on the spot where the man had touched the girl. "You're such a temptation."
"Thank you Mistress." The young woman held the wet towel out. Nymph smiled again, taking the crimson tainted cloth.
"The bar at the end of the street just kicked Jimmy out. You should get to know him. He's quite the character."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Just don't take too long." With that, Nymph stepped back into the shadows.
The young woman quickly turned back towards the street. In her rush to find the target, she ran directly into him.
"I'm so sorry, sir! I just-" The lie came out of her instantly, gliding off her tongue as if it had always been there. "I heard what you were saying and-"
The man before her smiled, his eyes sparkling under the street light. Hope and belief radiated off of him. "It's no problem, miss. It's rare to find someone who still believes in the Justice League." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Jimmy Olsen."
She accepted the hand with her own. The spot where Nymph had kissed her burned with passion. "I'm Megan."
October 5, 2:37 PM
Washington DC
The data streamed from one screen to another at its usual grinding pace. Most of the coding was familiar to J'onn, as he was the one to work alongside Bruce to create the programs. There were segments, however, that the Martian could not recognize.
He frowned, then typed commands to slow the display down. Some of the new pieces of encoding started to make sense with the extra time. Others were simply incomprehensible.
"Most of the upgrades are for the security." Bruce's sudden appearance made the Martian to flinch.
J'onn turned to look at the human.
(is he human still?)
"I see that you have not gotten rid of old habits, my friend." He nodded to Bruce, not allowing himself to look the other in the eyes. "These upgrades seem extensive. I do not recognize almost half of the new codes."
"Some of them were experimental at the time we put you into the medical coma." There were no regrets within the words; Bruce was never one to apologize for a tactical choice.
(must we apologize for what we've done?)
"I see. I must say that I am saddened to see that all of them are needed now." J'onn turned back towards the monitors. His eyes, however, could not focus on the binary strings. "Superman said that you have added things from the Watchtower's system." The burning guilt flared up as he spoke, but he ignored it.
"It was simple once we had the components."
"Are you saying-"
Bruce walked towards the monitors, stopping next to J'onn's chair. "Some of the remains of the Watchtower have been integrated into headquarters, yes. It was the fastest way to bring security up to a more appropriate level."
"That was a wise decision, my friend. I am glad to see the idea work so well."
The two remained in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both of them watching the coding go from one screen to the other. The Martian tried to imagine what the new strings of data meant. He constructed possible effects, his mind creating scenarios where they would be most useful.
(keep Bruce sane hurt M'gann stop her no I already did)
He cringed at the thought.
"Are you alright?" There was no sympathy in the other's voice. While that was nothing unusual, the missing component made the man's voice sound colder than usual.
(don't I deserve that? keep his memories locked up keep truth away)
"I was just thinking," J'onn said softly. His mind pulled up more memories of Bruce's family. He tried to block them out, but to no avail.
"J'onn-"
"Did M'gann suffer?" The question spilled suddenly from the Martian's lips. He blinked a few times, wondering where the question had arisen from when all of the memories were focused on Bruce. It didn't take long for him to realize that it was something that was eating away at him. No one had elaborated on the story after the initial conversation.
Bruce did not seem to react to the question. Calmly, he answered, "The fire was intense. The anticipation would have been the worse part."
"'Would have'?" J'onn repeated.
The human paused, as if weighing all of the possible answers in his head. After a moment he spoke. "Her body was found outside of the prison cell. It seems that the doors opened and she willingly went towards the fire."
(no)
"Wh-" The words were caught in his throat. He tried to speak, only to have them choke him again. Finally, he attempted once more and succeeded in getting his question out. "Why?"
"I don't know."
"She-"
"There were no signs of suicidal thoughts beforehand. However, we cannot completely rule that out. Most of the interactions that took place with her barely lasted a minute." Bruce turned away from the monitors and walked to the doorway. His cape dragged against the ground. "It wasn't your fault."
"I…"
(I took away your memories I put away your family I hated her I attacked the tower I)
"I'm not sure I can believe you, my friend."
There was no response; the Dark Knight had already slipped away.
October 6, 3:16 AM
Washington DC
"How is J'onn, love?" Muse asked softly. The darkness of the prison area appeared denser than usual. Whether it was an effect from their emotions or some other force, Bruce could not tell.
"Confused." The man paused, considering all the possible words he could use to convey the memories. "He did lose five years of his life to an illusion."
"It was a better place to be," she muttered. "Paradise, even."
"That makes it almost kind." The man could feel how the other's face contorted at his words, even in the darkness.
"Kind? It would have been kind to leave him trapped until he died. It would be kind to forgive him for what he's done to us. Kindness-" She paused. Her voice, which had increased in volume at each word, echoed throughout the room. "I'm sorry, love."
Bruce said nothing. Instead, he lifted his gloved hand and placed it against the glass wall separating the two. After a moment, he could feel Muse do the same.
(anger an effect of the curse?)
"What you showed was some mercy. You could have made him relive the worse moments of his life over and over," Bruce said. He ignored the longing to hold his wife in his arms; it was not the proper time. He continued instead. "You gave him a better illusion for a reason, Paula."
"I didn't tell you, did I?" She was hesitant, but there was something underlining her words.
(fear love hope)
"J'onn didn't want to wake you. Clark convinced him otherwise."
"I'm not surprised." Through all of the time that the vigilante had known the Martian, Bruce could almost predict J'onn's empathy. Some of it stemmed from survivor's guilt; he knew what it was like to lose everything. His powers played a significant role as well. Bruce, however, had believed-
(before the incident before everything)
-that part of it was simply from the Martian's personality. "Have you finished undoing the spell?"
Muse hardened under the question. "That poor child was starting to go insane. If it were not for her magic…"
"That was probably Fate's plan. If Zatara had already given up, she would be dead." Something unsaid-
(or worse sacrificed)
-passed through the darkness. "I believe Zatara knows this as well."
"And the precious Justice League sought it fit to force a man to wear the Helm? Despicable," Muse said. "If only Harpy had known…"
"We will reverse the damage," Bruce promised.
(but we can't be fixed can never be fixed)
"More importantly," he continued, "we will reunite the two."
"Thank you, love." Their hands met with the illusion of touching through the glass. "How are our children?"
"Preparing. Dryad is counting down the minutes until we capture the rest." His lips turned upwards at the thought of his youngest son. Dryad had always stood out with his intellect. The plans and insights he made were often quick and accurate, with his mind already running to solve the next problem.
"He is always so eager. So much potential… Lucius was always saying that it would be Tim Drake Wayne as the next CEO."
He nodded. "They were all promising."
They fell into a comfortable silence that they had found in their married life. Bruce had known, logically, that all of his children were talented. There was a level of determination that they exhibited in everything that they cared to try. It was the sentimental attachment of a parent that gave life to his hopes.
(but nothing left now)
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Bruce could feel Muse's smile. It was the same one that she had given him as they sat together in bed; tired and kind, always forgiving the man for the long nights.
"We were supposed to remain dead six years ago. Why is it that I want to cling to this for just a little while longer?" She laughed. "Let's begin, love."
They pulled their hands back slightly, relieving pressure but never fully leaving the glass. For a second, Bruce could see his wife's eyes flash through the darkness. The moment was quickly gone. Replacing it was the sound of the room coming to life. Internal machinery buzzed, pulling the glass wall away. It was only a minute later that their fingers met.
Muse laughed softly. "I miss this, Bruce."
"So have I." They interlaced their fingers. Memories came to the front of his mind. But they were only illusions now, and Bruce was quick to shove them away. "Free Zatanna first. You can hide with the others afterwards."
"You do not have to worry about us. Go and help Succubus," she whispered. "It's time she talked with J'onn."
It was hours later when Bruce set the teleporters to Gotham. He was in a jogger's outfit, perfect for the city during the fall. Sirens were just beginning to saturate the air with warnings. The feel of Muse's lips against his own lingered as his computer virus wreaked havoc on the Justice League's systems.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see J'onn running after him. The Martian appeared confused, reacting to the adrenaline that was rushing through his system.
(it's finally time)
Bruce smiled. The Martian form was morphing into a human one, creating more panic for the other. He tried to fight the change. But nothing happened.
(try to get me in my city)
The man turned around and ran through the teleporter. He had no doubt that J'onn would follow.
October 6, 7:34 AM
Gotham City
M'gann-
(am I allowed to be her?)
-stared into the large cup of coffee that sat between her hands before turning to look through the large glass window. The reflection stared back, distorted by the light and angle. She smiled and it smiled back at her. The young woman giggled, turning away to drink some of her coffee.
The café was otherwise bare, an echoing reminder of what it had once been. Like everything else within the city's boundaries the café had suffered a loss of customers. There was sometimes vandalism to accompany the emptiness. The only thing that had saved the business was a single employee who had refused to leave.
"Enjoying your drink, ma'am?"
(speaking of demons)
"Perfect as always, Kaldur." She looked up to observe the Atlantean. He was wearing a crimson shirt and a pair of jeans. A white apron was draped over his attire, and gold cuffs rested on each wrist. The magic that radiated off of the jewelry was subtle, working to disguise the tell-tale Atlantean features. She ignored the scowl on his face. "If you stop calling me 'ma'am,' I'll stop calling you Kaldur."
"It is not that," the man said.
"Don't lie to me." M'gann turned back to her coffee. The man hadn't reacted to his Atlantean name in such a manner for a long time. "Was it something that he said?"
He sighed, filling the entire café with the noise. "Something of the sorts, yes. I am not sure what to make of it."
"You'll figure it out soon." She lifted the mug to her lips. A wavering reflection in the liquid looked at her. She took a sip and enjoyed the bitterness that invaded her tongue. "What had Black Manta thought of your 'side project,' Kraken?"
M'gann felt the tension from the other's mind dissipated at the sound of his preferred name. "He had believed that I was making connections to criminal groups on the surface."
"You told him that and he believed you? I'm surprised." She mulled over the thought before hitting her forehead with the edge of her palm. "Hello Megan! You are part of a criminal group on land!"
Kraken chuckled. "Siren had said something similar. Black Manta was quite proud of me."
(because you're his son because he didn't know you were a failure to his cause)
She raised her mug in a toast. "To good luck and misguided intentions!"
"Intentions?" The speedster's voice was full of curiosity, muffled by a pastry he had started to eat. His sudden, quiet appearance was a common sight for the café.
M'gann turned towards her drink. In the corner of her eyes she could see her reflection in the window. "How have you been, Wally?"
The redhead turned to look at her. Like M'gann, Wally preferred using his birth name rather than his codename. Kraken used both names equally, although he was fond of "Kraken." Golem's situation was very different; he had only received the name "Superboy" while under the League's care. His preference of name was obvious, yet his attachment to his Kryptonian name "Kon" was just as strong.
Wally-
(Harpy)
-swallowed his food before speaking. "Same old things, really. I aced a chem exam today."
(nothing about your uncle?)
The Martian turned to offer a smile. "That's great!"
Kraken gave a nod of approval. His eyes, however, shone with something less than praise. "I do not understand why you would not take up a second major."
"I was under the impression that you loved my company," the redhead shot back. "Anyways, I definitely have a job waiting for me when I graduate. No need to make myself more appealing than I already am." He gave them both a grin before turning back to the food behind the counter.
M'gann giggled while Kraken sighed in annoyance. No one dared to mention the possibility-
(you could die like us)
-of the future.
She turned to her reflection again. This time it was not her human façade that greeted her, but instead the image of a While Martian.
(the truth)
(I know)
It had happened several times before. Nymph had guessed it to be a byproduct of the force that resurrected the Martian. M'gann believed that there was something else involved with the fluke.
"You guys know where Golem is?" Wally asked. "Because it's almost time and all."
Kraken shook his head. "I suspect that he is with Dryad. It is, as you said, almost time."
"But isn't he paired with you two?" M'gann asked. "You should probably-"
"There's been a change in the plans." Nymph's voice rang out before the redhead herself appeared from the doorway to the kitchen. Behind the woman stood Kon in a suit ensemble the Martian didn't recognize.
"Geez! Give a guy a warning!" Wally said. In a second he had reappeared by Kraken's side, his hands holding a large muffin between them. Despite his annoyed tone, his emerald eyes appeared lively and amused. "And shouldn't you stop changing plans the day of the attack?!"
Nymph offered the trio a cryptic smile. "Rest assure, it is a rather small one in concerns of today. Golem will be the one accompanying Succubus. I will take his place in the attack."
Wally offered his exaggerated opinion in his usual loud manner. Kraken was also brought into an agitated state, although it was much subtler. Both of their emotions-
(confusion anger)
-pounded against M'gann's mind. Her focus, however, was on the telepathic communication with the clone.
("The clothing isn't yours."
"Lampads found it. He said they belonged to Superman.")
The Martian bit her lip. Memories of her most recent night in the red light district swelled inside of her. She brought the cup of coffee to her lips.
("But he wasn't the one to suggest the new plan?"
"Pyroead did. He thinks that this could be the deciding factor for some people."
"I'm glad that I didn't kill Jimmy Olsen, then.")
Kon's brows furrowed in confusion.
("What did you do with him?"
"We talked. Mistress was greatly amused with observing how he justified Superman. Are you surprised that I didn't kill him?"
"Yes. You rarely let your victims go."
"Jimmy is special. I'll show you what his mind looks like later.")
"-can't believe Pyroead made up that plan," Wally concluded. He ran back to his spot behind the counter. "I was expecting it to be Sylph, honestly."
"Dryad also has a tendency to draw out paint," Kraken said. "Or Siren. Pyroead is more of a warrior than a strategist."
Nymph nodded, amusement flashing through her eyes. "Pyroead has his moments. They do not seem to affect his fighting style, and that's all that really matters. And to return to the main topic…" She looked towards one of the few clocks that decorated the café. "Father should be arriving in Gotham soon. We should all take positions."
The four original members of Young Justice shared a collective nod. M'gann couldn't help but wonder if this was the unity that the superheroes wished to see in the young team.
"We'll see you later!" Wally offered the Kyrptonian and the Martian-
(aliens invaders monsters)
-a smirk before scarfing down his last muffin. "Let's get cracking, Kraken!"
The Atlantean in question groaned at the wordplay. For a second, M'gann could see Siren's personality shine through her lover. His return to himself occurred just as quickly. He untied the back of his apron and pulled it off with little flourish. "Good fortune to both of you."
Kon gave a nod. "Good luck."
"You guys will be fine!" M'gann said. Her lips quirked upwards into a genuine smile. "I can make dinner tonight once we're done!"
"Awesome! Perfect thing to look forward to!"
The redhead woman offered her own smile. "A perfect thing for after the battle. Thank you M'gann. Good luck to you both."
M'gann nodded, her eyes glancing into the mug. She had only drunk half of the contents. What remained provided no reflection; unlike the window, it was always changing.
(I still love you no matter form)
(I know)
She suddenly felt the need to be outside amongst the dying city. Without another word, she ran out the door and towards what remained of the business section. She was careful not to run into anyone, although there were times where she almost did on purpose. In those brief moments she could imagine the life of one of the humans before her.
Kon's voice broke through her thoughts.
("I can take air cover if you want me to."
"Yes, thank you. I-")
M'gann frowned as her grasp on words slipped. Her eyes darted around, absorbing everything of the scenery. The city still had a loyal population. Varying ages and backgrounds came before her. The overlying similarity that encompassed the people glared back at the Martian.
("M'gann?"
"I hate being different than them.")
She glanced at a broken window, ruined by some unknown person in the past night. The memory of her reflection reappeared in her mind.
("Stay strong, Succubus. It's not about genetics today."
"I know. You… you'll stay later? Even in the room?"
"Yes. It is what siblings do, is it not? We- Look, ahead.")
M'gann looked up, her sight instantly training upon Lampads. The man was weaving through the slim crowd with practiced ease. She admired his ability to avoid his chaser without drawing attention to himself.
The man pursuing him was another matter entirely.
(Uncle J'onn)
October 6, 7:52 AM
Gotham City
There was no denying the confusion that refused to leave J'onn's mind. Gotham was as dark as it had ever been, mocking him with mental images that his memory clung to. It was almost six years since he had last stepped through the streets. It was more than enough time for the city to change.
(what did Bruce say when he saw?)
The Martian cringed as he avoided a businesswoman. His current situation came to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of what had happened mere moments ago. Batman had done something to headquarters' security. What exactly it was hard to ascertain; everything from the computers to the magical balance of the building seemed to be compromised.
J'onn had attempted to use his powers to capture the man. But something in his body wouldn't allow for such a thing to happen. Instead, as if by its own accord, his body had shifted into his human form. The Martian had tried to figure out what was happening, but at the same time Bruce was escaping. All J'onn could do was ignore the problem and chase after the man.
(to erase his memories erase my guilt)
He silenced the voice as he turned the corner.
"Bruce! Stop!"
The human continued to run, his head appearing in and out of crowds in a complex pattern.
(why should he trust me?)
J'onn continued to run. His body let out a protest, not used to chasing another in human form. The lack of action due to the medical coma only made the problem worse.
His eyes darted to follow Bruce, watching as the man headed towards an intersection full of people. J'onn cursed; there were too many variables involved to track the man through theory and guessing. If he lost track of Bruce here, there wouldn't be another chance to catch the man again.
Bruce darted past a broken window display and-
(M'gann)
J'onn's eyes snapped to the red head girl standing in front of the shattered window only a few yards away from him. Her appearance, right down to the clothing, matched what he remembered when he last saw her civilian disguise. He couldn't turn away, frozen to the sidewalk.
"M'gann!"
The Martian berated himself as he screamed out to her. He knew that she had made her disguise identical to that of a television character she admired while on Mars. While the show itself was relative lost to time, there were enough people who could remember it. The possibility that someone tried to dress up as Megan was more likely that M'gann retuning from the grave.
When she turned and looked him in the eyes, however, J'onn could not doubt his initial belief.
"M'gann-"
He became aware of the laughter floating around his mind. It was hers but there was something wrong-
(corrupt dead)
-in it. His human face paled.
"M'gann, what happened?"
There was no reply. Not even the laughter changed at his question. The girl continued to stare blankly at him. J'onn wondered if his mind had finally snapped.
His limbs, which had locked themselves into a rigid posture, jerked back to life. His mind continued to stutter for an answer. One of his legs pushed forward, stepping in her direction.
The Martian could not take his eyes off of his niece -
(White Martian I allowed to love destroyer?)
-as if she were only an illusion about to disappear. Her eyes lit up at his movement. A grin cracked through her lips.
The girl suddenly turned and sprinted down the adjacent street. After taking a second in an attempt to process what had happened, J'onn followed.
J'onn called her again. The younger Martian gave no response. Her red hair weaved through the crowd, only slightly more reckless than Bruce.
(escaped I allowed him to escape)
He didn't dwell on the thought for long. The thoughts relating to the once-vigilante were chased away. His mind sweep was careless; thoughts about anyone else besides the other Martian were pushed away. Nothing else mattered.
J'onn followed the girl's pattern, praying to the deities for a chance to talk to her.
4 Years Ago
December 29, 6:00 PM
Watchtower
It was the blaring of the alarms that had awoken her. It was different than any of the other alarms she had ever heard while in the Watchtower; it was loud and voiceless. Nothing beyond the sense of urgency was passed on by the alarm.
(what happened?)
She opened her eyes and blinked. Her cell was opened and there was no sign of the fire security measures. It was the flickering orange glow that resided beyond the doorway of the room that caught her attention. Something had gone terribly wrong.
M'gann pushed herself up with her arms, careful not to stress her body too much. The Justice League had only fed her the minimum amount of food needed to ensure that she would live. Out of the fear that they had of her, most had kept their distance.
The crackling of the fire began to fill the room. The temperature rose with the noise. The Martian turned her head away, looking back into her cell. It had been almost a full year since she was imprisoned by the people she had once thought of as mentors. She was almost tempted to call the place a home.
(do I even have a home?)
She frowned. The places that she had once called "home" were all tainted with memories. Mars was filled with the remains of war and hatred. Mount Justice had been destroyed in the discovery that one of the hidden bodies-
(they hid the bodies next to us they knew)
-had been Pyroead. Then there was the Justice League, cutting her off from the rest of the world. Anything that she had said was used against her.
M'gann looked towards the door. The alarm was still going. The fire, however, was starting to take up all of her senses.
(let me help you escape)
(no)
A smile pulled at her lips. She never understood the term "suicidal" when she had been free. Such events had happened, both on Mars and on Earth. The concept, however, was something so far from her ideals that seeing others commit such an act was a tragedy. Now she knew better.
(it will hurt)
(I know)
The pain was already starting. M'gann clenched her teeth, leaning against the wall for support. Hesitantly, she stepped towards the growing fire.
The sound of her uncle's voice-
(still my uncle after everything?)
-came from beyond the flames and alarm. The Green Martian was singing, using his powers to mentally broadcast the words. It took M'gann a second to recognize the music as an old song that could be heard throughout Mars. Even the White Martians sung along.
A giggle suddenly erupted from the girl. It grew into laughter which drew from her the liveliness that she believed she had lost. She had missed the ability to laugh.
The smile remained on her face when the flame started to destroy the cells and equipment than stood between them. It continued to get closer, speeding up to an alarming rate.
(I'm free)
October 6, 8:39 AM
Gotham City
"M'gann!"
J'onn had lost track of the number of times he had called out to the other Martian. The rest of his focus lied in tracking the girl, weaving through the crowd in hopes of reaching her.
The girl ran through the city as if it were a playground. She never once looked back at him, yet it was as if she could anticipate his actions. Sometimes it was as if she could anticipate his movements before he himself knew what he was doing.
The red head turned into one of the numerous side streets. J'onn stumbled as he made the sharp turn, nearly knocking into a couple as he did. He could feel their eyes follow him into the street.
(would using my powers leave the same impression?)
He ignored the thought. There was no time to figure out what was wrong with him.
There was another turn made into an alleyway. By the time J'onn followed, the air was filled with the sounds of the creaking fire escape. His eyes turned to catch the figure slipping through an open window.
(a place to talk place for answers)
J'onn took a minute to climb the fire escape, his body aching from the chase. The metal tracked his movements with sharp sounds. He counted each one in an attempt to calm himself. Instead, his anticipation and anxiety increased.
The window that the girl had entered through had remained open. What little light that was able to escape into the alleyway could not penetrate the darkness in the room. J'onn called out, his voice hoarse from calling the girl's name throughout the chase. Nothing responded.
He ducked and slipped through the window. A decaying odor slipped into his sense of awareness, making his mind scream.
"M'gann, what happened? Where are you?"
Part of the Martian expected no response-
("Uncle J'onn? I'm here. Hurry.")
J'onn lunged forward into the darkness, his human appearance fading from the onslaught of emotions. He went through the wall with little thought and-
(no)
The room glowed with the soft light of numerous lamps. There were no signs of a window anywhere, and dense darkness took care to seal the doors. There were a few pieces of furniture: besides the lamps there was a couch and a coffee table. Everything was covered in dry blood.
"M'gann…" he muttered.
She responded, her voice originating from multiple points of the room. "I was so happy when you brought me to Earth. I didn't mean to lead you on, but I didn't want to make you suffer again.
"And then I learned how much of how humans hated White Martians. How-" She stuttered, but quickly recollected herself. "How much you hated White Martians."
J'onn ignored his own bitter memories of Mars and the accompanying hatred. "M'gann, what have you done?"
"I wanted to be good. I pretended to be a Green Martian. I found a popular human character to base my disguise on. I hated myself for being a White Martian!" She was beginning to sound hysterical. "But you would always hate me if you knew the truth. Nothing could change that."
"M'gann, I- I can't hate you," he protested. "You are so different and kind-"
"But you stereotype White Martians!"
"Yes. No one can escape that ability. Humans, Martians…" J'onn trailed off, unsure of what to say.
M'gann was also silent for a moment. However, she managed to find her words. "Pyroead calls it 'Martian racism.'"
(no she's lost to them is one of them)
"I-"
"It's unfair," she continued. "You lost your family to them. We lost Mars because everyone just wanted to fight."
"It was," he agreed. "But we should never stereotype because of one's origin."
(I'm sorry)
Silence filled the room. J'onn moved his gaze from one spot to another. Everywhere he found some remnants of murder, most of the traces manifesting in the form of dried blood. His insides churned. Still, he made no attempt to leave.
That was when the Justice League communicator came to life in his ear.
"Any member of the League, report to base immediately," Superman's voice stated, tinged with panic. "There's a situation-"
The sound of the Man of Steel being pummeled filled the airwaves. The moment let loose a barrage of combat noises; most of them marked the League's loss.
"Yes, come members of the League," Muse-
(escaped no)
-said in amusement. "Defend your so called 'ideals of justice.' I'm simply waiting for you to air your dirty laundry."
J'onn turned towards the wall he had gone through, his head calculating the fastest way to get back to headquarters. The appearance of M'gann, however, stopped him in his tracks.
"M'gann-"
"The League has always been in danger, especially when you signed the family's death warrant," she said calmly. Her eyes pierced through him, darkness underlying the green irises. "I'm not the only one you have to answer to. Lampads trusted you once."
"Would you kill me to stop me?" J'onn asked.
"No." M'gann gave a brief glance to the blood splatters. "You aren't like them."
Another question was forming in J'onn's mind when he was grabbed from behind. The grip was solid-
(like steel)
-and unmovable. Even if he had access to his natural abilities, there would be no escape.
"I meant it," M'gann said. "There's a lot you have to answer for."
(M'gann)
Kaldur working at a café would be awesome. He would make excellent coffee.