Chapter 23

The nothing was enveloping. And Hank didn't like it. Stupid nothing. Not letting him be anyplace or with anyone. Surely there was something other than this to life. This ballance and order. Hank had never cared for order. Something tingled at him, a memory of a memory, perhaps, and he latched onto the something that hadn't come entirely from withen himself.

After all, he hadn't made the memory by himself had he? No. He must've had someone to help him. Right now all his memories were the same, but this was different.

He held on to the memory, with it's strange fuzzy feelings that felt like a pipe cleaner being rubbed on his brain. It was not a plesent sensation to think about. But it was better than no sensations, and it might lead to more.

Which was more than worth the risk.

The memory was bright and vibrant and he couldn't see anything, could barely get anything out of it except for sensations and… and the link to not here.

The feeling split his mind and the darkness at once and the light poured into his mind at the same time that he realized it was his mind pouring into the light.

And suddenly it was very bright and very confusing and there were a great many sensations from everywhere, and even though he couldn't do anything yet, he liked it a great deal better.

He gasped, and the air was cold and burning, which wasn't nearly as confusing as he thought it would be.

He blinked, and slowly, very very slowly, the world took on color and the noises turned into sounds. He sat up and could do that because he wanted to, and sitting up was different from lying down and that was a relief as well.

He felt like cold water was being poured over his head, and slowly he could think about specific things, real things, instead of awfully boring things that didn't exist.

Someone landed beside him, and he looked up and knew who it was. "Manhunter."

Man, his voice sounded bad.

"Hawk. You should take it easy. A psychic attack is not somehting to be brushed off lightly."

"Meh. I'm fine. Just dizzy." To prove this, Hawk pushed himself to his feet, and, though swaying, stayed upright. "See? No problem."

Jonzz looked disapproving, but Hawk could not care less. But there was… right! How could he have forgotten something so important?

"Where's the guy? Apokalips, or whatever? I was just taking him down!"

"Hm. Well, after he easily incapacitated you completely you were unconcious for a few hours. He was subdued and is being incarcerated in the Phantom Zone. Dove and some of the others are working on damage controll or helping those affected by this attack. The rest have gone."

"Uh huh. Well, how'm I gonna get home then, if there's no one left to bash?"

"Dove can go with you on a shuttle. Or, perhaps, a plane if we have one available."

"Dove, huh? Man, what kinda weirdo names themself 'Dove' and pretends to be any kind of superhero?"

Manhunter gave Hawk a sidelong glance. "Ask him yourself, I suppose. I called for him telepathically when you began awakening."

Hank turned, following Jonzz's gaze, and found a blue and white streak hopping down from the rubble of a building.

"Hank! You're alright!"

Two seconds later, and Hawk had his arms full of a very relieved poorly named superhero.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Shoving him back, Hank scrunched up his face in annoyance and confusion.

"Question one, what are you doing? And number two, how do you know my name?"

Dove's face fell, unguarded eyes widening in confusion and shock. "I… Hank, what?"

"I dunno if you know this or not, but I don't take kindly to random strangers making like a spider monkey on me. What do I look like to you, a-"

"Hank, I'm Dove. Don. You can't-"

"Whadd're you doing interrupting me? This is why I work alone. If I'd wanted a sidekick, I'dve gotten a partner a long time ago!"