A/N: Thank you to my faithful reviewers leathman, Dextra2, and Powerman911.

Can you believe we only have eleven more chapters to go, not including this one?

Community

– I think I'm going to –

– better call Ruthie –

– not ever gonna –

– Is this the right one? I thought he –

Thoughts. They are the essential core of all sentient beings – the one thing that all live individuals hold. Thoughts are present in everyone's mind in some form or other, even in a newborn's instinctive needs, and they continue to run through everybody's head for the rest of their lives. The only time the thoughts stop is when one dies.

Thoughts are many things. Some thoughts are mundane, trivial – some thoughts are only important for a time, some thoughts last for years – and some thoughts have power.

Oh, the power thoughts could have. Thoughts were the driving force behind actions, the intent behind the event. Something innocuous could turn into the most hideous thing because the thought behind it was murderous; likewise, something sordid could become merciful if one understood the intent behind the act.

J'onn J'onzz was the last Martian, and he had seen firsthand the power of thoughts to initiate events of great magnitude. As a telepath, he was well-versed with the thoughts that could go through a person's head. However, today was Christmas Day, and humans were a strange species. The varying degrees of vastly different emotions that he was picking up confused him no end. He'd spent the whole of yesterday – Christmas Eve – trying to figure out what it was about this holiday that brought out such reactions from Earth's population, but he was no closer to finding the answer than he had been when he started his search.

– Oh, Merry Christmas…–

– happy holidays –

– we pray and ask that You bless this food –

He flew over the skyline of New York City – a skyline that had been changed so drastically last year with the fall of the Twin Towers – something that New York was still recovering from. J'onn could feel clearly the sorrow and horror that had not faded since 9/11 in the minds of everyone who passed by Ground Zero. The sight of the roped-off, debris-littered area saddened him as well, because he'd been there on that day and he'd witnessed the true horror of the attack firsthand, and because the sheer destructiveness of the strike and the War on Terrorism it had prompted from the U.S. government made him remember another war, hundreds of years ago, of which he was the sole survivor.

– still can't believe –

– rest in peace, all you lost souls –

– God save us –

There were other thoughts too, from the minds of those who had dedicated themselves to cleaning up the site. J'onn often found solace in these thoughts, because they were pure, virtuous in intent, and full of the same kindness and goodness that he appreciated in his Justice League teammates.

– come on, let's get this –

– New York will be sparkling again –

– we're helping families get closure –

– this is my way of contributing –

J'onn was the Martian Manhunter now, the guardian of New York City. For the past year, he had been aiding the cleanup efforts at Ground Zero whenever he could, but only ever as the Martian Manhunter, John Jones had never stepped foot within five miles of Ground Zero because he had never felt at ease with humans when he was a human himself. It was inordinately strange, but he felt more comfortable in his hybrid form among humans – maybe because he didn't have to hide whatever emotions he felt at the thoughts he happened to pick up – at least not so much.

J'onn had been trying to understand Earthlings since he first arrived here almost three years ago. The first humans he'd encountered had trapped him and brought him forcibly back to Earth. Of the next two people he'd met on this planet, one wasn't even human and the other could hardly be considered average. He'd gone on to meet others, people from all walks of life, with their own thoughts and intentions – but for all that, he still had yet to find one person who could make him feel at ease as a human himself. He had not encountered even a single soul who made him feel that John Jones belonged here.

J'onn was about to continue his patrol through the city when his telepathy unexpectedly tuned in – as it sometimes did when a person's thoughts spoke to him on some level – to the mind of someone who was at Ground Zero right now.

– It's Christmas. Christmas is a time for giving and helping. I'm here because I want to help, and I want to give my time, if only to make this better –

The man's sincere wish to help on a day most people spent celebrating gave J'onn pause. Of all the thoughts he had heard today, it was this man's that had held the most virtuous intent. Everyone had been talking of the 'spirit of Christmas', but their idea of the Christmas spirit was different from J'onn's, and this man's thought was the one that had truly struck a chord with the last Martian.

After a moment of thought (there's that word again), J'onn landed in a secluded corner and assumed his human identity. Today John Jones would take J'onn J'onzz's place as the Martian Manhunter.

Four hours later, John sat with five other men who had volunteered to finish the cleanup of Ground Zero during Christmas. After a morning of solid work, they were all sweaty, tired, and grubby, but there was a sense of contentment in knowing they had come together for such a noble purpose as well. It was sadder than anything they could imagine, clearing debris off what had once been the World Trade Center – but it felt good to know that ordinary men like them could do something for the city. And they had just finished the monumental task that had taken more than a year – Ground Zero was now completely cleaned up, bare where once there was debris.

Now on break, the men were passing around snacks and drinks. One of them, Larkin, offered an open blue packet to John.

"Want one?"

John peered at the row of cream-filled chocolate cookies inside the packet. "What are these?" he inquired.

The other man laughed. "You've never heard of Oreos before?"

When John mutely shook his head, Larkin stared at him.

"Seriously?" he said. "Well, there's always a first time." He waved the packet in John's face. "Take one. I guarantee you'll like 'em."

John obligingly dipped his hand in and withdrew a cookie, and Larkin passed the Oreo packet around the rest of the group.

Yes, John Jones had finally found his place in humanity. And, as he bit into the Oreo, he knew he had also found a favorite food.

A/N: Yeah, I know - in the real world, cleanup of Ground Zero was completed by May 2002. However, let's pretend that in Diamond Earth, they took several months longer.

TOMORROW: An old man's musings give new meaning to the phrase, 'Like Father, Like Son'.