Prompt: Everyone knows the Slender Man Mythos, y/y? If not you can read about him here - http:/ www. mythicalcreaturesguide. Com /page/Slender+Man .
Children are disappearing in Gotham and while investigating one night Robin sees a man down a dark alley way, he tells this to Batman who replies no one is there. Robin thinks his mentor has gone nuts because clearly there is a man down the alley way. Then the man starts appearing at Wayne Manor and Mount Justice and it starts creeping Robin out because none of the adults can see this strange man with the weird arms and no face... and then the nightmares start.
Basically, the Slender Man comes after Robin and, because I'm a sucker for a good Urban Legend, the rest of Young Justice too! :D
http:/ community. livejournal. com /yj_anon_?thread=6262153#t6262153
Him
In the middle of a surveillance mission, Robin disappears. He doesn't show up at the rendezvous. He's out of M'gann's telepathic range. All Kid Flash finds when he races to check Robin's post are his communicator and utility belt.
"Robin never goes anywhere without his belt," is all he can think to say when he shows it to the others. It's how he knows there's something wrong – except it isn't, because Robin's been living out of Mount Justice for three week with no explanation.
It isn't until they get back that they find out about the Slender Man.
"The Slender Man," Artemis snorts, though she sounds unaccountably serious. "It's an urban legend."
For once, Wally's inclined to agree (but his best friend is missing, and this Batman saying this, and Robin left behind his utility belt). Then they have to explain who the Slender Man is to M'gann and Superboy, and even Artemis is left cold as Batman lays down his evidence.
"The Slender Man – or someone masquerading as him – has been sighted around Gotham for several months. Thirty two children have gone missing, some of them on the same day they first report seeing him. A few of the older victims left behind pictures on camera phones-" and Batman calls up several shady images of a man, impossibly tall, wearing a business suit – "and those who had the chance left behind artwork and diary and journal entries reporting nightmares." There's one picture, hand-drawn by a four year old; the Slender Man's head and shoulders are cut off, long lined tentacles extending from arms that have no hands.
"Is this who has Robin?" Kaldur is the first to ask.
"I believe so. Three weeks ago, Robin reported to me that he'd begun seeing the Slender Man. I moved him here, hoping that would be enough-" in an unusual moment of weakness, Batman's shoulder's slump and his voice trails off before he regains control of himself. "The Slender Man has a preference for watching and kidnapping from foggy streets and wooded areas. That he's taken Robin means that he's growing bolder, altering his patterns to suit his target."
"Because of the curfew," Artemis says, drawing confused looks.
"Yes," Batman responds, and then explains. "The Mayor of Gotham instated a sun-down curfew for all minors. The Slender Man hasn't yet attacked anyone during the day, or anyone above the age of sixteen. By all accounts, adults are unable to see him. If the Slender Man's patterns change further, that curfew may well be expanded to adults."
Majors, Wally thinks Robin would have said. If people under eighteen are minors, why aren't people above it 'majors'?
Batman's jaw tightens. "For the moment," he says. "I'm disbanding Young Justi– Don't argue. This is for your own safety. Go home. Don't go out at night. Contact me immediately if you see the Slender Man at any time."
"The Slender Man took Robin. He can and will take any of you."
Wally spends three weeks half-expecting to find a too tall silhouette watching him. He fights crime only during the day, and leaves the night work to Uncle Barry. It's hard – he's nearly bursting at the seams from the need to run, to fight, to find Robin. On day three, the teacher sends him home because he's not paying attention anyway, and his parents call the school to tell them he won't be back for the foreseeable future.
Six more children – a pair of ten year old twins, an infant barely old enough to walk, two teenagers and a six year old girl whose babysitter turned around for a moment at the park– go missing in Gotham. Three go missing in Central City.
Wally moves in with Barry and Iris.
No one realizes for an entire day that Superboy's gone. Partly, this is because he left nothing behind, no small pile of possessions as most of the other disappearances were characterized by. Partly, this is because he had no home to go to outside of Mount Justice. Red Tornado only checked on him once a day.
It's the first time Wally's ever seen Superman look sick, look like he really cares. It's the first time Wally's ever been angry at a superhero.
(It's the first time he's ever really hated someone, even if it's only a little.)
Ten more children go missing, and Batman's no closer to finding the culprit, or the children. All over, petty crime rates soar as superheroes stop bothering, bending their attention to tracking down the Slender Man.
Wally, waiting in line for his order at Burger King, spins around on some instinct he can't identify. The Pied Piper meets his gaze boldly, and nods, once. There's some message there, Wally knows, but he can't quite tell what it is.
On the same day, he overhears Barry talking with Batman. Given that he has the upstairs phone clenched in one fist and is breathing as quietly as he can, he can't really say it's accidental.
"How can that be?" Barry asks in a voice no louder than a whisper. He thinks Wally's doing his home-school homework.
"... I think we're dealing with the real thing," Batman says. "Two children went missing almost simultaneously in different cities. His target age range, and target area are expanding, and his rate of capture is accelerating."
"Rate of...? Batman!"
"What would you have me call it, Flash?" Batman's is arctic cold and flatter than Wally's ever heard it. And then he changes the subject. "We're dealing with the supernatural, not a serial killer. It's physically impossible to have taken so many in such a short period of time without leaving evidence behind."
"What does this mean for the search?"
"It means..." Wally's heart nearly pounds its way out of his chest, and his mind freezes, hanging on the next words. "It means I have no idea where to start looking."
Roy goes missing on the same day as Artemis. Or at least, he probably went missing the same day. No one's really sure, despite the receipt for the pizza from the night before.
Green Arrow's tears are the hardest thing Wally's ever had to see, peeking down at where the huge man is nestled on Barry's couch between Barry and Black Canary.
The sound is worse.
Batman institutes a three times daily check in. No one objects. Wally's already sending texts to Barry and Iris and his parents every two hours.
King Orin reports that children have started disappearing from Atlantis.
Not Kaldur, Wally thinks as he hears the news from Barry. Barry's quick to reassure him.
"Kaldur's still there, Wally. He's still safe. He hasn't been taken."
(Yet, Barry doesn't say, but Wally hears it all the same.)
Wally's gaze snaps around. The worst thing about his speed goggles are that they mess with his peripheral vision and for a second there he thought-
There!
A long, spindly torso; arms like Elastic Man; face overshadowed by the darkness in the alley.
Wally removes his goggles, squinting. Is it really...? Or is it just the light?
It is, he realizes, as one of the arms moves – long, like Elastic Man's, but not fluid like his.
Wally's emotions are all over the place; terror, horror, anger... and excitement. If he can just- just one quick look, and then he'll be gone. He's fast enough to outrun any length of arm, and if he can get a look at the guy's face, he can describe it to a sketch artist and show it to Batman and then it'll be over.
Just one... quick...
A hand clamps down on his shoulder. Wally's head jerks around to glare up at-
"Captain Cold?" he squeaks.
Captain Cold frowns. "What's so interesting about that alley?"
Wally looks back. "He's- He's gone!" And he is. The long, distorted frame is gone, and so is Wally's chance, and Wally slaps Captain Cold's arm away. "You-" His voice chokes. "The Slender Man was right there!"
Wally points jerkily at the alley, and instead of smirking or grinning or anything Wally would have expected from the guy who just ruined Wally's chances to finish this, Captain Cold just looks grim.
"I thought so. You were walking over there with this hypnotized look on your face."
Wally, stunned, examines the distance between himself, the mouth of the alley, and where he had been standing when he noticed the Slender Man. He's... God, he hadn't even noticed how close he was getting! Wally pales, and whispers. "Thanks."
"Be more careful," Captain Cold says, and turns away. He pauses for a moment to say, "You're a good kid, Kid Flash. More importantly, you're ours. We'll watch out for you."
On the 30.72 seconds it takes to get home, Wally figures some things out. Supernatural or not, Captain Cold was probably right about the hypnotism thing. No one, not Robin, not Superboy, not Artemis or even Roy – the most contrary guy Wally knows - had left any signs of putting up a fight.
The fact that there are more kids disappearing every day, from an ever larger area means that the Slender Man is growing stronger. Which means that there must be an epicentre, right? Like with earthquakes – it has to start somewhere, and it has to be caused by something. So it would theoretically be possible to look back at the first children who disappeared and figure out what they have in common, geographically.
He groans as he realizes that Batman's probably already thought of this. Still, it can't hurt to tell them what happened today. Well, it can. It probably will even, as soon Barry and Iris rip him a new one for trying to get close to Him.
He doesn't get the chance to tell them. When he gets home, Batman and Barry are waiting for him, with M'gann and Martian Manhunter standing off to the side.
"Orin just contacted us," Batman begins.
"It's Kaldur, isn't it?" Wally interrupts. "He's gone."
"Along with two of his friends. They went off on patrol and never came back," Batman confirms, and Wally used to be terrified of this man. He used to be everything the Flash wasn't – dark, imposing, violent and ruthless. Now, he's... his voice is quiet – not in a threatening way, just in a tired, heart-sick way; his shoulders are bowed, and every few seconds one hand rises to either cover his mouth or press against his cowl-covered forehead.
Before he realizes it, Wally's blinking back tears of pity, for himself, for Orin, for Batman. If he were a better person, he'd be tearing up for everyone who's disappeared and who's had someone disappear. But he isn't. If he's going to cry, it'll be mostly for himself, and Batman, and Green Arrow and Black Canary, and King Orin.
He swallows back the clog in his throat, and opens his mouth to say 'I saw the Slender Man'. He never gets to. Batman sweeps out of the room with a terse "Pack up. You're moving to the Tower."
Even petty crime stops. No one wants to brave the streets, because they know, they know now that even adults aren't safe. Besides Roy (who the media doesn't know about), five adults have disappeared in Gotham. No one wants to go out.
Cities grind to a halt, worldwide. Three schoolgirls went missing in Japan, and a boy from India. It's enough to terrify the Western hemisphere.
Wally knows that is only a short reprieve. The Justice League has to take advantage of the lull because it won't be long before children and adults start disappearing from inside their homes, and then all hell will break loose, and the Justice League will be helpless.
How do you protect the innocent from a threat you can't see? How do you protect the innocent when it's the innocent beating and maiming and killing strangers on the street because they're terrified of losing their family?
Wally has this image in his mind of all the people the Slender Man has taken piling up in a warehouse somewhere and blowing the top off the roof as He tries to shove just one more body – oh god, not bodies, please don't let them be bodies – in through the door. He has this image, and is sure that that's how the League will find the missing people.
Wally's more than a little bit afraid – just a little bit terrified – that by the time enough people get taken for that to happen, there won't be enough League members left to stop Him.
The new Blue Beetle is living in the Watchtower as well, a mid-twenties Hispanic man that Wally spends little to no time with: first, because the guy's even older than Roy, and second, because both of them are too worried about their families.
Wally sees him arguing with Batman a few times, trying to convince Batman to let his family into the Tower. Batman refuses again and again – it means too many things: compromising the safety of the Tower, the safety of the identities of the heroes living there, the sense of safety for those like Question.
But Wally can see him wavering.
(Wally never does get to see when the Blue Beetle finally stops asking.)
(He stops asking because even the Tower isn't safe.)
The Slender Man's features are completely bared in the harsh light of the Watchtower. He has no eyes, Wally sees, just slight depressions where eyes should be. He has no ear or hair, just a smooth curve of skin covered, and his mouth, when he opens it, is a dark, tongue-less hole.
Wally's stuck somewhere between horror and fascination. Under the light, He isn't scary, just sickening, and a little bit pitiable.
He stretches out a hand, and the gaping hole emits a soft 'huh', and an 'ah' and it's a sad sound. And Wally thinks, he's just wants company. (Wally thinks, he didn't have hands before, but he's hardly paying attention to that, because)
He beckons with that outstretched hand. Long, spindled fingers curl until the dark pointed nails at the ends scrape lightly against the pale palm. He wants to show me something, Wally knows.
(He hardly notices his feet moving.)
(He hardly notices M'gann beside him, moving beside him, in time with his step.)
Wally stretches out a hand to meet His, and feels a curl of appendage around his wrist and forearm with hardly any (bruisingly tight) pressure at all, and then he doesn't think anything at all.
M'gann can feel the mental pull, the tugging at the edge of her mind. She trails off mid-sentence, following Wally's gaze to the dark figure at the end of the hall. It's a sickening sight, and M'gann's sudden anger helps her to drive off whatever power It has had over her teammates.
Her teammates.
This thing took her friends, and has broken so many heroes.
This thing has terrorized millions.
This thing wants to do the same to her.
No.
No, it will not happen, she decides, even as she casts a glance over at Wally's enraptured face. He begins to move, stretching one hand out to the grotesque figure at the end of the hall who is already reaching back.
She moves in step with Wally, stretching out one hand like he is, and pulling her walls down, falling under into His lure almost immediately. Finally, he stretches a hand out to her, and she seizes hold of it.
And then she can hardly think at all.
In a hazy gray space that isn't quite space – that doesn't quite have mass or matter but energy, so much energy – a thousand thousand faces do not turn upwards to watch Him return. He drops him carelessly, and her, just the same.
They float slowly down to settle on the not-earth not-cloud not-air among the others. Something tugs at her core and she feels her will to move, to look around, to take an interest in the things, the people around, fade and float away.
Around her are transparent flickers of not-cities, not-people, who are there and then gone. Memories, she understands, without thinking. There's a small tug at the center of her mind, and then her earth-girl form melts away.
The featureless face with the gaping hole turns toward her and a hand stretches out. She feels a twinge of revulsion, and then it's gone and her eyes flicker closed (It's just lonely, she not-thinks, I'm safe here. Nothing can hurt me.)
With her eyes shut she can feel the cold, clammy pads of fingers against her cheek, her forehead, the lids of her eyes.
There's another pull, a stronger one, at the center of her, and without thinking she tugs back. Instinctively, she pulls back and she realizes My wall are down. Hastily, M'gann slams them up again, and she doesn't hear a hiss. She doesn't hear a scream.
M'gann opens her eyes and stares at the revolting figure of the Slender Man, floating in this not-space above the bodies of the children and young adults he's kidnapped, he's taken. Anger surges through her and she not-shouts back at him. There's no space for sound here but she knows the words, the outraged vitriol that spills from her, and suddenly faces are turning to look at her.
She reaches out with her mind and seizes the spools of energy drifting towards the Slender Man and pulls them into herself, feeling bigger, stronger than she has ever felt before. It strikes out at her with Its own stolen energy and she throws up a shield just in time.
Still, it shoves her back several paces, tripping her over the prone forms of children much smaller than her. Wake up! She not-yells with her mind. Wake up! See what It's doing to you!
A baby not-squalls, not-shattering the oppressive silence of the not-space. Ahead of her now, Wally shakes his head, slowly, shoulders hunching while his head turns to look around. She can see the exact instant he returns to himself, eyes widening with shock to see her struggling against It.
M'gann! She not-hears, and she could cry but she has no time for crying – not even if its Superboy – but she not-shouts,don't look at him! That's how he lures you in! Anyway.
And then a hand is linking with one of hers, the weight of Superboy's strength and stubbornness joining her will. And another, and another. Young Justice has come back to themselves first, and each and every one finds a way to touch her, to put their strength behind hers.
But it's not enough. She can feel all of them – Superboy, Kid Flash, Kaldur, Artemis, Robin, even Roy – and it's not enough. It has had too long to steal from too many and Its stronger than her!
Come on! She not hears, but she doesn't recognize the voice. Another hand presses up against her shoulder, and she half glances over – risking the distraction to see a black-haired boy with pale lavender eyes holding her shoulder, and a red-haired girl holding his. Suddenly, she is not the only one pulling, stealing energy back from the Slender Man, who not-shrieks and lashes out.
The shield holds, not barely this time, M'gann's power backed by her friends and the friends of her friends, and by the power she has taken from It already. And then there are more, the eldest of those taken organizing the youngest and pressing in around her, behind her. She can feel her spectral self grow – stronger and larger – until she is as large and as fluid in shape as the Slender Man.
With one hand, she reaches, and tears out the last of what he has stolen.
There's no scream. There's no final shudder of death.
He just... fades. And the not-world fades around them.
It takes forever to get through to the League. Not one of them have even a quarter for the payphone, much less a cellphone, and Wally's so hungry and listless that he can't even find the energy to walk, much less speed run to Mount Justice.
They're hopelessly lost – out in the middle of a harvested cornfield in the middle of nowhere – and they all have to readjust to being back in real space, in real time. They rest, even Wally, trying to get back some energy while the shock fades. Some of the children start crying, and it's so harsh after the silence of the not-space, so much harsher than usual. Nevertheless, she gathers up three of them into her arms, growing an extra set when it becomes clear that the last is a squirmer.
All around her, the teenagers and twenty-somethings are gathering up the youngest children, trying to get them to stop crying. It's not her race, it's not her planet, but M'gann feels a sudden affection for them – for these children who did and are still doing their best to help out.
One of the children, a three year old boys whose parents are first generation immigrants and who doesn't speak English, screams. It's not a terrified scream, at least. M'gann raises her head to look up at the boy, not sure what she would have done if it had been a terrified scream. He's pointing at the sky, mouth wide in a smile, and they're all looking up now.
It's Superman, M'gann thinks, and can't seem to get any farther than that. She's so tired. That's good, she manages, and the Superman lands, his gaze sweeping over the whole of the group, over the infants and the toddlers and the children. He looks over the teenagers and the young adults and finally his gaze comes to rest on Young Justice, and then he's moving forward, straight towards them.
They all – except Wally, and M'gann has no energy left for worry (except for the little bit she feels anyway) – stand. They needn't have bothered.
Superman only has eyes of Superboy and the clone is abruptly crushed in Superman's arms, one hand pressed against the back of Superboy's head.
'It's about time,' somebody murmurs, but M'gann couldn't say who. It could've been her.
That's not the end of it by any means.
Superman contacts the League and then there are mentors to reassure and snacks to hand out – to keep the little ones quiet as much as to replenish their energy reserves. There are home cities to organize the children by and parents to contact and transportation to arrange. There are social workers to call, for the homeless ones and the press to deal with, eventually.
(Somewhere in there, M'gann thinks, there is a debriefing; logically, she knows there must have been, but she can't remember it later.)
There are authorities from cities all over the world call; no less than- well, she loses count after 26 – children come up to tell Superman about the abuse they suffered before the Slender Man took them and not all of them are homeless.
Finally, there is a bed, and there is time to sleep, and if she dreams of the Slender Man, it's hardly enough to disturb her. The last of him is locked away in her mind, and she will never let him out. He will live, because the Justice League doesn't kill, but he'll never take another child again.