Kris' POV: Long time no see! So a couple of things real quick: I am currently working on a much larger: Justice League Unlimited story based off of the Rann Thanagar War. It will take place in the "Bruce Tim/DCAU" timeline, but is completely separate from this "one-shot". I just wanted to take a break and write something that was complete and utter - FLUFF. That being said - THIS IS COMPLETE AND UTTER FLUFF! No meat at all. Also, the pacing is not my finest work - but let's ignore that. Shall we? ;)
Warnings!
1. There is a slight spoiler for the episode "Once and a Future Thing II".
2. Rating is due to drinking, a character on pain meds, and the smallest mention of blood. Shayera throws in a couple 'blink and you miss it' one-liners that are insinuative. Also - kissing. (*gasp* How risque!)
3. The Rann-Thanagar War will not be up for a while. I haven't set a due date - because - life. I am extremely excited about it though! And I hope to have it posted sooner rather than later. *Fingers crossed*
I hope you enjoy! God bless!
He can't feel anything but a tightness in his chest, and cold. He looks around - hoping to capture something with his eyes. Though his hand is right in front of his face, he can't make out its form. He feels as though he's floating; though the light of his ring doesn't show any signs of causing it.
"Hello?" He calls out - hearing only the echo of his voice in reply. "...Is anyone there?"
His voice hitches, and he desperately tries to swallow the fear that's nestled itself into his chest. Surely there's a logical explanation as to why I'm here?
"Hello, John Stewart."
He spins his head in each direction. Trying to pinpoint the owner of the ominous voice. "Who's there? What's going on? ...Please! I-I don't know-"
"Calm yourself, Lantern. Your time has not yet come."
"Time? Time for what?"
A white light disturbs his vision, and he covers his eyes to the piercing color. Slowly opening his eyes to adjust, John looks up to see an unfamiliar man. His brows furrow. "...Who are you?"
The man gives him a small smile. "Would saying you my name truly tell you, 'who I am'? I assure you - knowing me personally will have no effect on your life."
"Wh-What is this place?" John asks - looking around at the endless, white area surrounding them. He couldn't get his ring to work here, and he didn't understand why.
"...That too will not answer the question you honestly desire."
Becoming irritated by the man's answers, John asks angrily. "Alright, and what question do you believe I need answering?"
Smiling once more; the man drops his feet onto an invisible, ground - bringing John down with him. He walks ahead of the Lantern, and John reluctantly follows. They walk silently a few beats before the man breaks the silence. "Answer me this. If at the end of this journey - it led to the final destination of your life - what would you hope to see?"
His brows knit together once more. "What do you mean?"
"We all make choices in our lives. And each decision we make - leads to another, and another. Eventually - those decisions begin to shape who you are, and where you are going."
The man stops abruptly and meets John's confused gaze. "You are currently at a place and time - where your choices are going to lead into a large stream of events. Knowing the future has caused a pandemic you do not even realize."
John's eyes widen. "What? How do you know about-"
A chuckle from the man stops him. "If you are asking: if I am God? I will tell you. I, am not He. Think of me as merely a stepping stone. A place to stand for the moment - before deciding which path you wish to take."
Extending his hand reveals thousands of doors - startling the Lantern.
Stepping toward the one currently in front of them; the man turns to John. "Each of these doors represents a potential future for your life. See that they are numerous...Though I cannot show you each, I do wish to show you 2."
One by one, all but 2 of the doors vanish from his sight. John's gut twists and his throat tightens.
"...You have every right to refuse." He says, giving John a look of understanding. As if sensing his hesitation. "I cannot force you to enter, nor would I wish to. Remember you, and you alone - can make the choice."
He opens the door, and steps through - fading like mist.
Taking a breath through his nose, John expels it from his mouth. His curiosity won over his doubt. Taking a step forward - John enters.
He's greeted by a familiar sight: the founder's meeting room, in the watchtower. It's empty - save from him. Even the mysterious man who led him here is nowhere to be seen.
Sighing, John does a once over of the room. Everything seems to be as it had always been - all except for one chair.
Walking toward it - he investigates it further. A silver plaque has been placed in front of it. His eyes scan the letters across it: In Memory of A True Hero and Friend.
His breath catches. Looking back up - he searches each seat until he figures out who this current placement belonged to.
He comes to the realization of the chair's former owner within seconds.
"...God, no." He sighs, gripping the back of the chair to steady himself. John feels a presence behind him, and somehow knows it's the man. "What...What happened to her?"
"I cannot say."
He spins and glares at him. "No! You answer me! What happened to her?"
He seems unmoved by John's sudden outburst and looks away. "I told you: I am not God." He moves toward the exit, signaling John to follow him. "I know only what I need to know. And I tell you again ...I cannot say. For I know not of who you grieve for, or how they may come to pass."
John hastily dries his cheeks - suddenly noticing an unwanted trail. He clears his throat and tenderly places his hand over the plaque. Again, coming to a realization. It isn't silver. It's nth metal.
Steadying his breath, he pulls away and walks over to his guide. "Then tell me how I stop this from happening ...Or is that something else you can't tell me?"
He smiles sympathetically to the hero. Without saying a word, he places his hand over John's eyes.
Within seconds; he's brought to a loud, brightly lit, and crowded space. Like before; his guide is gone.
"...This is getting old." John says bitterly through his teeth.
Scanning the room, he soon sees a face he recognizes. Wally West. He's in civilian clothing and is navigating through the crowd over to a long bar. The redhead is carrying a couple of drinks, and he places one in front of another person he recognizes. Himself.
John stares in awe, and even greater confusion. He annalizes the other version of himself. This John Stewart has let the hair on his head grow back out. It seems unkept - but his face is barren of any facial hair. His hand reaches for the drink in Wally's hand, and John notices he isn't wearing his ring. They offer a small smile to one another before clicking the bottles together and taking a large sip.
Quietly making his way through the crowd, John nears the 2 men.
"We should do this more often, you know?" He hears Wally say after wiping his mouth. "I miss seeing you around the tower."
He hears his doppelganger sigh deeply. He stares down into his drink before replying. "Yeah, I know... I've just been busy, I guess."
Wally snorts, taking another sip. "Busy? You run your own business now, John. You know, 'you' get to decide how busy you are? I had to practically get on my knees, and beg you to come here tonight. I even called Katma to see if she would help me out."
"I know. We've just added a lot more contracts lately, and I ...I guess I just forgot," he says, taking a long sip of his beverage.
Wally looks at his friend and asks carefully. "So... does that mean you're trying to move on? Forgive and forget?"
John glares bitterly into his drink. "...You know I can't do that."
"And why not? ...She wouldn't want this for y-"
"Don't! ...Don't even try to go there, Wally."
"But it wasn't your fault!"
"How was it not my fault?!" John yells, standing from his seat so fast it toppled to the ground. Every eye fell on the pair. Only the obnoxious, bar music keeps the room from going utterly silent.
"...I think you've had enough, man." The bartender says, walking over and removing the drink from in front of John.
The former Lantern grabs his jacket from the back of the fallen chair. He places the stool back up, and says; "couldn't agree with you more."
Wally calls his name, watching his retreating form. "John! Wait!"
John can only watch as the Flash went after the brooding, version of himself.
He's left with more questions than answers and an even larger pit in his stomach. Turning to his right - his guide has reappeared beside him. "I don't understand what you're trying to do."
He nods briefly. "You once said: 'that whatever the future holds, you'll make those choices yourself.' But... your decisions do not affect only you, John Stewart. Some choices made by one - causes others to make their own accordingly. Just as you are capable of deciding your path - so was she."
John stares down at the wooden flooring, trying to sort out his emotions. A firm grip on his shoulder moves his eyes back up to the unnamed man. "Do not fret over what has not yet come to pass. For her time has not arrived either. Again... remember every door we didn't open. They each hold something entirely different."
John opens and closes his mouth - trying to find the right thing to ask. His guide waits patiently. "You said... you wanted to show me 2 doors?"
With another nod, John looks ahead to see a second door appear before them. Biting his lip; John grabs the handle on the door and turns it.
The bright, neon lights fade to a calming, darkened hallway. As he expected; his company has left him to search on his own.
A dim, light - coming from a room at the end of the hallway - piques his interest. Taking cautious, quiet steps; John makes his way over to the opened door.
Peering inside; he first notices the walls of the room are a light, pastel green. Spread around the room are various toys and white pieces of furniture. His eyes lock onto one specifically: a crib.
Before he can commit to entering, a figure enters his vision. A soft sound meets his ears. The words of her lullaby are unfamiliar, yet familiar in every sense. He didn't have to know Thanagarian to know what she was trying to say.
He has never heard Shayera sing until now, and he swears - he's never heard a sweeter sound.
Nearing her; he watches her intently. His chest feels tight as he carefully pears past her grey wing. Nestled safely in her arms is another face he recognizes. Bright, green eyes meet his own. And a happy coo passes the infant's lips. He clumsily reaches toward him, and John can't help but smile at the babe.
"Is that your dad, Rex?" She hums in amusement, leaning her back against John's chest. He's startled at first; unsure of what to do. He didn't realize his presence would be known to her.
Rex coos again, grabbing a piece of her auburn hair - swinging it around in his fists, never once taking his eyes off of John's. He goes to put the lock into his mouth, but she pulls it out of his grasp.
Resting her head against John's chest; she once again sings her lullaby - tenderly caressing the infant's cheek and forehead. Her fingers trail down his nose, and his eyes flutter. She continues the action, and Rex yawns - settling deeper into her embrace.
John watches her in wonder. He knew from their past together she could be a gentle, caring person when she wanted to be. But this was entirely different.
Her sudden movement halts his thoughts. She places the sleeping babe into his crib - rubbing his cheek before turning her gaze fully onto John. He feels like he can't breathe.
She searches his face. "Hey... what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
He said it too quickly. Even he knows that.
Stepping closer to him; she wraps her arms tightly around his waist. Resting her chin against his chest, she looks up at him smugly. "Uh uh. You know that doesn't work with me, Lantern."
He can't stop the sigh from passing his lips; he didn't even realize he let the noise pass his lips until it was fully released. He can't look at her. He doesn't even know how to explain.
"John," she says his name. In a way, he hasn't heard in over a year. He meets her gaze, overwhelmed by her. He feels like his heart is ripping out of his chest.
"Shayera... I don't know what to do." He says, choking down a sob.
He feels her arms and wings surround him. She whispers reassurances against his chest, and he hides his face into her neck and hair. His grip on her tightens; afraid she would let go - and be gone from him again.
Reaching his face; she pulls him at eye level. Her thumb lazily caresses his jawline. "Hey... You don't have to do this alone." Taking her left hand - she grabs each of his and places them over her heart. He feels the small band around her ring finger. And for some reason, his attention is pulled to the small earrings she wears, and the soft smile across her face.
"I promised to stand by you, protect you, and love you until I take my last breath. No matter what we face - I will always fight for what I believe in." Leaning her forehead against his - she says without hesitation, "and I believe in you, John Stewart."
There's so much he wants to say, and yet - he doesn't know where to begin.
"...It's time to go." The voice of his guide interrupts, a smile present on his lips.
John pulls Shayera closer, shaking his head - looking over to the still sleeping babe. "No ...I can't. I don't -" a sharp pain strikes his ribs repeatedly. He groaned in pain. His lungs burn, and he struggles breath. His guide touches his chest, and his world turns to black.
He gasps for breath. Spinning onto his side, he spits out what feels like a gallon of fluid. Small rocks bite into his palms. He feels cold and wet; his body trembles. He wants to lie down, but his ribs refuse the thought.
A small thud to his right catches his attention though. His eyes widen as he identifies the figure immediately. Not 10 seconds ago - he was sure she was safe in his arms.
Her back is to him, and though his body protests movement - he crawls over to her.
"Shayera?" He groans, turning her over onto her back. Her damp hair clings to her face. He brushes it away to find a large cut above her brow. Blood smears across his gloved, hand.
He panics and quickly searches for a pulse. To his relief, he feels a soft thud against his fingertips.
"John! Shayera!" The voices of their teammates call out. He searches them out - finally noticing the frozen lake beside them, and smoke in the distance. He picks up the sound of fire engines and sirens. He can't remember anything though. His vision starts growing hazy.
"4 for transport, 2 in need of medical attention! Now!" John hears someone shout before returning to the darkness.
"John?"
White light enters his vision, and he groans at the thought of another round with his guide. He doesn't want to go through another set of doors. Was any of it even real? He wonders.
"John?" He tries making out the person who continues to say his name, but his vision is still struggling. "Shayera?"
He blinks, and finally makes out the worried face of Vixen. She smiles sadly at him. "Hey ...welcome back."
His eyes widen as he remembers Shayera being hurt before he blacked out.
Mari seems to read his mind. She places her hands against his shoulders, pushing him down before he can try to move. "She's doing fine, John."
"You 2 got knocked out by Sinestro. Your ring ran out of charge, and he took a cheap shot at you. Shayera tried to take the hit, but you both got catapulted into Lake Michigan. She managed to get you to shore and give you CPR before passing out herself."
John vaguely remembers the fight, but still can't believe her words.
Mari smirks at a thought. "She's got a dislocated wing, a broken wrist, and a concussion. And she's already threatening the staff to let her leave the med bay."
John could almost laugh, but his ribs hurt like crazy.
Mari smiles sympathetically. "Pretty poly had to break a couple ribs to keep you from keeling over... The doctors still don't know how she managed to stay awake long enough to do it." Her voice dropped at the end, and her eyes refuse to stay on him.
John stares at her in confusion. "What's wrong?"
She shrugs, pouting her lip into a thin line. "I don't know. I guess... I wasn't able to do the same thing for you when we fought Shadow Thief. He could have killed you, Carter, and Shayera... and I couldn't do anything to stop him."
Pushing past the pain in his chest, John sits up. "Mari. I would never blame you for that... You could have been killed too, you know?"
She nods. "I know...I -" she opens her mouth to continue but snaps it shut just as quickly.
"...Mari?"
Sighing, she looks to John sadly. "I guess ...a part of me hates that she loves you more than I do."
His eyes widened in shock. He tries to say something to comfort and reassure her, but can't seem to find the words. Smiling sadly; Mari lifts herself from her seat and places her hand over his.
"...I hope you figure things out, John."
He's gone back and forth on how to proceed forward. It's been 3 days.
And between deciphering his 'dream' - if it could even be called that. To Mari ending things with him. To now ...this. His mind is practically a confused, soup.
Steadying his breath: he continues to stare at the door he's been staring at for the past 2 minutes straight. Somehow, entering this 'real' door was far more frightening knowing what was on the other side.
Finding his courage; he enters. Her heart monitor beats steadily, and upon further inspection - he realizes she's asleep. He questions himself on whether he should come back at another time? But a phrase he uttered long ago enters his mind. I'm tired of waiting.
Biting his lip; he slowly nears her bedside. Her head and wrist are still bandaged, and her wing is in an awkward sling. Battered and bruised, he could still see past her 'rough' appearance though.
He chuckled at a thought. "You used to hate it when I called you, Angel."
"...Still do." She hummed with a soft smile, tilting her head toward him. Her green eyes tried looking up to him, but she seemed too bothered by the brightness of the room. Making a hand with his ring, he used the projection to dim the lights.
"Next time I see Sinestro...I'm beating his head in with my mace." She slurs, smiling as though it was the funniest thing. "And ...there's nothing you can do to stop me."
Smiling back to her; John gently pushes her stubborn bangs away from her face. "I wouldn't dream of it." Bringing his hand back, he stopped momentarily to graze her cheek.
She sighs and leans into his touch before pulling away, looking up at him confused.
"Wait. Wh...What are you doing here? Shouldn't you ...be resting too?" She asks, trying desperately to clear her hazy, drug-induced mind.
"I got cleared a couple hours ago. They said if I didn't do anything too strenuous, I could come and see you."
Shayera made a sound he hasn't heard in a long time. She giggled. Her cheeks seem to flare a dark shade of red. He wonders just how much pain medication they had put her on.
"Mari d-definitely ...wouldn't approve of you doing anything strenuous with me." She says, sending herself into another fit of giggles.
Shaking his head at the Thanagarain, he smirks. "...I can't take you anywhere."
She shakes her head, smiling giddily. "Nope."
He ponders if he should tell her about his breakup, but her tired sigh puts the thought to the back of his mind. Her brows knit together as is in deep concentration. "Hey ...What's wrong?" She asks. Her head fights to remain upright; she seems to struggle to keep her eyes open.
"Nothing."
She huffs, focusing all her energy onto looking him in the eyes. "Uh uh. You know ...th-that doesn't work with me, Lantern."
He smiles and puts his hand on top of her good one. "I'll tell you soon, Shayera. Go back to sleep."
Sighing - unable to keep her eyes open any longer; she mumbles back. "...Not sleepy."
He didn't have to debate the subject. Just as soon as she uttered the phrase, she let out a soft snore. He smiles down at the slumbering woman. Tracing her jaw to the end of her nose - he watches her smile lazily in her sleep. She mumbles something in Thanagarian.
Taking her hand; he presses it against his heart and whispers. "...I promise - to stand by your side, protect you... and love you until I take my last breath."
Bending down - he places a kiss to her forehead. "...I'll tell you that when you wake up. I promise."
He had kept his promise that day. She had woken up sometime later complaining about how quickly her metabolism broke through medications. For the next couple of hours - they had simply spoken like they had in the old days. Making jabs at one another, and reminiscing. He finally worked up the courage to tell her about Mari and make his promises to her. She initially rejected his words - saying they were no good. That she was no good. He put an end to her self-depreciation. He did something he had wanted to do for a long time. He kissed her. At first - he pulled away - fearing he had crossed a line. Her eyes met his in shock. Seconds later; their lips crashed in unison. They at one point accidentally brushed against one another's injuries, pulling away with a wince, and smiling apologetically.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks - a low rasp in her voice and a devious smirk on her lips.
He gazed down at his winged companion, taking her in. She had nestled herself against him on the couch. Her red hair cascaded down his shoulder. She wore one of his old, t-shirts - one she had most likely stolen, and cut to fit her frame.
The street-light outside the window reflected the falling of snow against her bare legs. She hated cold weather and had upped the heat in their apartment. Her jade eyes bore through his, searching for her answer.
Smirking back, he massages the place between her wings - earning the smallest purr from her. "...If I said 'you', would that earn me some brownie points?"
She snorts in reply, and he catches her rolling her eyes.
"Smooth. But don't think you're off my hit list yet. I'm still mad you took that assignment."
Her voices expresses that she is indeed, still upset. But as she deepens herself closer into his side; she reassures him she isn't mad enough to close herself off to him. He knew he was 'on her hit list' when she refused to talk or be near him.
"Come on, Shay." He says, pulling her even closer. "It's only going to be a couple weeks."
Her eyes level with his, a firm pout and an accusing glare mark her face. "J'onn said 'up to a month'."
"Which technically - could mean a couple weeks ...with a chance of some overtime."
He hears her sigh in defeat and feels her arm tighten around his ever-so-slightly. He knows she's more upset that she can't go with them. It's a sector in space a little too close to Thanagar. If word got out she was close by - she was sure to catch the attention of bounty hunters.
Since becoming a couple once again; they had unintentionally become 'partners in fighting crime' - as The Flash affectionately called them.
John has to admit - he isn't fond of the idea of her being so far away either. He very much likes having her by his side.
At a thought, he bites his lip. He debates with himself a few moments before deciding his next course of action. He blurts out, "I have something for you."
She raises a brow to him curiously. "I don't negotiate with terrorists... You can't win me over with bribery."
Rolling his eyes, he kisses her forehead - lifting himself off of the couch, much to her distaste. "Wait here for me."
Rushing to his bedroom - he feels his heart thudding painfully hard against his chest. He originally planned to give her this on their anniversary. But depending on how long he was gone - he may not be able to do so. He silently recites the words again to make sure he remembered each syllable.
His fingers itch as he grabs the items from his hidden compartment. Stuffing them into his pockets - he releases a shaky breath before returning back to the living room. His company waits as patiently as he knows she can. Which isn't much, he muses.
His nerves heighten upon seeing her, but he does his best to hide it. "Come here."
Her brow raises challengingly at his demand, and a smirk settles on her lips. Lifting herself slowly from her position on the couch, she strides over to stand in front of him. She crosses her arms and waits.
Pulling one of her hands away, he grazes the back of her knuckle with a chaste kiss. Meeting her gaze, he says, "close your eyes."
She smirks defiantly.
He chuckles. "...Please?"
Her smile only widens, but she does as he asks.
John sighs - looking her over. He wanted to paint this image in his mind before he continued. He has wanted to do this for so long, and he didn't want to miss a single moment. "...I want you to count to 3, and then you can open your eyes. Okay?"
She nods, and he can tell she wanted to roll her eyes at his request. "Okay. 1...2...3."
She looked to where he once stood - to realize he was no longer standing there. He was on his knee. Her brow rose in confusion. "What are you doing?" She crosses her arms again. "I won't accept begging either, you know?"
Another chuckle escapes him without permission, and he shakes his head. Pulling the box from his pocket, he shows her what it contains. "...What if I say: please?"
Her eyes fall on the box, and her expression falls. She stares at John, finding her mind has gone blank. "What? ...John? Are you asking me to-" she can't finish.
He nods his head, "yes." Lifting himself off the ground to stand in front of her, he rubs her arms. She's covered her mouth in disbelief, and he laughs. "Please say, yes."
She returns his laughter. Instead of trusting her voice though, she nods her head.
"Yes," she whispers.
He wasn't about to ask her to repeat her response. Grabbing each side of her face, he kissed her - bringing them back down to the floor. She didn't seem to mind until he pulled away from her. "I have one more thing for you."
"I really don't think you can top this." She says, pressing her lips to his.
Kissing her once more, he places the engagement band onto her finger. Pulling another box from his pocket, he opens it and pulls out a set of earrings.
She looks at them only a moment before her vision blurs. "John," she attempts to say before averting her eyes so he couldn't see her.
"Don't laugh at me if I say a couple words wrong, alright?" John says before clearing his throat. He had worked with Carter and J'onn for weeks trying to learn how to properly pronounce the Thanagarian words to the 'promising vow'. An ancient practice of her culture, much like Earth's marriage vows.
He spoke hesitantly in her native language, and she wound her arms tightly around his neck - crawling into his lap. He felt her body shake, and he rubbed her back - kissing her shoulder only a moment before proceeding with his vow.
He had fumbled on a couple of words, but he knew he did well when she rewarded him with another kiss.
"...May I?" He asked once they parted - referring to the earrings. The final part of the vow was only complete if she accepted.
She nods and helps him put them into their place. He admires the jewelry with satisfaction, caressing his fiance's cheek. "Meeting you was the best decision I ever made ...I love you, Shayera Hol."
She smirks at him.
"It's Shayera Stewart, to you." She teases, rubbing her nose against his. He holds her tight, and he feels her breath against his ear. "...I love you, John."
Stay safe, and thank you for reading!