A Grey Justice on the Horizon

by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Young Justice/DCAU/Marvel Comics) Ever dress up for Halloween intending to be one thing only to be seen as something else by those that saw you? The Scoobies certainly do because thanks to the chaos spawned by the spell of Ethan Rayne they will become people who are quite different from what they'd intended to be. A difference that will echo throughout the world.

6. Grey Clouds and New Winds

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because some people enjoy reading my work. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no legal action was taken against me because I can guarantee you that what you got from me wouldn't cover a fifth of your legal fees.

PS – this fic is going to go on hold for awhile. I don't have any more than this written and I like to have four chapters (twenty-five pages each minimum) in the proverbial can before I post. Don't worry I have other fics to tide you over with but I thought it only right to give you fair warning.

Employee Lounge, LexCorp Lab, The Next Day

Newark, New Jersey

Willow Rosenberg's POV

It's almost time for me to part ways with this place, she thought as she continued reviewing the file in front of her. I just need to secure one more promising scientist and I'll have all I need to start Snow International.

Indeed, since she had officially signed on as an employee of LexCorp, she had made great strides with her plan to become the head of her own company and Miss Mercer was proving quite helpful in expediting matters. She'd already looked into the older woman's mind and knew that Tess was the illegitimate daughter of Lionel Luthor, Lex Luthor's father, and planned on taking LexCorp away from her half-brother. That had been the true reason why the woman had personally flown to Sunnydale for career day: to handpick a promising young mind that'd be loyal to her and help her dethrone Lex.

An amusing thought but not all that realistic.

Lex Luthor had ruled over LexCorp since the day he changed its name from LuthorCorp and all attempts up until then had failed, with a few being fatal to the ambitious someone behind it all. That was why she was aiming for something a little more reasonable by stealing choice personnel while leaving LexCorp itself intact. Nevertheless, by allowing Mercer to think that she was a dutiful ally collecting the loyalty of certain special scientists, she could accomplish her goals much easier than if she'd been forced to work solo.

Whether or not she decided to take Tess with her when she left… she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

She's using me just as much as I am using her, so it's not like we're friends or anything, she thought as she finished reading the contents of the folder. Now that I think about it, though, maybe I should see about arranging a meeting with Buffy after Snow International is founded. By then she'll be done killing every assassin on her list, so asking her to be my security chief then wouldn't be out of the question.

She felt a pulse of fondness for her old friend and the thought of the two of them being reunited after so long was something she could very well find herself looking forward to. Since she'd left Sunnydale she'd done what she could to keep tabs on her friends but, sadly, all of them had done a fair job in keeping themselves off the grid. Buffy only popped up when the media caught wind of one of her kills, Cordy only showed up as a mysterious flying 'angel' who helped the destitute and Xander's alias might have been on file but where he lived was another matter entirely. She had no doubt that her best friend had made sure anything she could access online only had drop points or false addresses listed for her to find.

Lex Lensherr… couldn't he have thought of a more original name then that? She gave a slight shake of her head, He could've at least chosen a better last name. Still, at least I don't have to worry about him living in a roach motel or anything. She recalled what she'd seen on her computer three days ago. His inventions are doing quite well and have caught the eye of a lot of companies. He should have quite the nest egg for himself by now.

With a bit of luck, once she got Snow International running, she might be able to arrange a forced meeting with her dear friend. She could already come up with five ventures his devices would be useful for and, thanks to Emma Frost's memories, she knew of quite a few others that'd be helpful too.

A television that was on in the lounge suddenly caught her attention. "In other news Gotham City Police are still investigating the massive explosion in the warehouse district but are still no closer to determining the cause of the blast that left the entire area in ruins. It was last evening when a massive electromagnetic detonation ripped apart the warehouse district, tearing apart every building in the area. Police sources remain silent on the details but this station has received information indicating that Alexander Lensherr, owner of the small business Forge Industries, was found seriously injured close to the estimated epicenter of the blast. He is currently recovering at an undisclosed Gotham hospital but is expected to survive his injuries."

"Xander…" she gasped without consciously thinking about it.

"Sources also state that Gotham's newest vigilante Flamebird was also found close to the center of the incident, however she was pronounced dead at the scene due to severity of the injuries. While we might not know her identity, information gathered from the recent hijacking of Wayne Enterprise's Prometheus indicates that Flamebird was involved in neutralizing the super villain Doctor Light's threat to the city's population, therefore it is likely that the incident at the warehouse district may have been some sort of retribution by Doctor Light on Flamebird for her interference. We will stay on top of the story and bring you more as it develops."

Sadness and a desire to go to the side of her friend welled up within her as her mind pieced together what must have happened. Xander must've somehow met this superheroine Flamebird and, in his usual way, he must have chosen to aid her using the scientific expertise he'd gained from Magneto. Knowing her best friend the way that she did, it wouldn't have taken much for the two people to become close to one another, nor was it difficult to discern what must have happened.

Given what had been reported, her mind came up with the scenario of Doctor Light having killed Flamebird right in front of Xander and the resulting trauma activated the powers of Magneto that had lain dormant within. Considering how both Erik Magnus Lensherr and Alexander LaVelle Harris tended to react when someone precious to them was killed right in front of their eyes… she very much doubted that the super villain was still alive.

I wanted him to get his powers because I thought they could give him the edge to become a hero in his own right rather than just a side-kick, she thought, thinking back to those weeks following Halloween. I never want it to happen this way. Never.

She just hoped that the traumatic event hadn't changed her best friend too much because, if it had, then only God would have mercy on the world because the actions of a Master of Magnetism rarely affected only him.

Some Low Rent Building in Illinois, Afternoon, Buffy aka Red Widow's POV

I'm almost done, Mom, she thought as she looked at the small shrine to the fallen she carried with her on her journey. Just a few more people need to die and I'll be done.

On the shrine were the best pictures she could find of those that had been killed the day that she'd gone after Richard Wilkins and not a day went by that she didn't look upon them with regret and determination. The regret came from the fact that she had not been able to prevent their deaths even though she should have anticipated Wilkins' move. With the traits she had chosen to adopt from her Halloween self, she had gained a new perspective on her Calling and, while she'd go nuts with happiness if someone managed to take both the Black Widow and the Slayer off her hands, the former had helped her understanding of Sunnydale improve. With this new understanding she'd learned of the power dynamics of the various demon organizations and thus had been able to better plan her nightly patrols as well as deal with those individual demons with some infamy to their name.

It had been during the second month of her mapping of Sunnydale's demonic underworld that she'd begun to see signs of a single overall controller to it all.

Naturally she'd immediately worked with Giles to figure out a way to chop off the head so that the body would die.

In retrospect she wondered it would've been better to leave well enough alone.

She had been making a difference chipping away at the lesser ranked demon organizations, saving lives from vamps that would've killed them, and most people would've been happy with that.

Not her, though.

Both the Buffy Summers side of her mind and the Natalia Romanova side of her had seen a chance to take out the leader of it all and she'd taken it. Taken it even though it wound up costing her the people she cherished the most, leaving only those missing or capable of defending themselves alive to be seen again. The aftermath of her choice had been painful beyond compare and she had wanted nothing more than to die so that she could be with those who she'd lost.

In a way part of her had died that day and all that was left was one thing: VENGEANCE!

She'd hunt down those responsible and she'd send a clear message to those who knew the assassins so that they understood what awaited them should they cross her path again.

She had left nothing to chance in her preparations.

She had sacrificed whatever the Black Widow side of her thought she should in order to ensure the success of her self-appointed mission.

Once she was sufficiently armed and prepared, she went on the hunt first to learn the names of those responsible and then where they could be found.

Now her hunt was reaching its end point, with only a few more names needing to be scratched off her list, and thankfully, if her information was accurate, all but one had chosen to band together in order to fend her off.

She would deal with the stray and then she would make preparations to assault the building the remaining targets had taken refuge in.

"It was a startling wake up call for many warehouse owners in Gotham City this morning when they awoke to learn that every structure in the warehouse district of the city had been obliterated. According to the police as well as other corroborating sources, the destruction was the result of a massive electromagnetic explosion, likely from some manner of device," came the voice of the radio news reporter from her only real connection to the rest of the world. "Police investigated the scene only to find three people in the area, two of which were apparently killed in truly gruesome ways. One was the newly arrived lady vigilante Flamebird, who over the last few months aided the dynamic duo of Gotham fight the criminal element of the city. The second was Alexander Lensherr, owner of Forge Industries, who, according to sources, was Flamebird's supporter and the source of many of her tools. The final person found at the scene, while not been confirmed by police, is thought to be the super villain Doctor Light, who attempted to hijack the Prometheus satellite a week ago.

"Flamebird was reportedly found dead with severe burns on over two thirds of her body while Doctor Light had every bone in his body crushed before being skewered by numerous sharp metal implements. As far as Alexander Lensherr is concerned, he is recovering at an undisclosed Gotham hospital with injuries we've been told are not life threatening. He is expected to make a full recovery."

She tuned out the remainder of what the man was saying and focused on the important bits of information that had been spoken of. She knew without a doubt that 'Alexander Lensherr' was actually her runaway friend Xander and, if he was involved in an electromagnetic explosion of some kind, it could only mean her friend's fears had come to pass: his x-gene had activated and the powers of the mutant leader Magneto were now his to command.

While she might not be able to make as certain a deduction about the other two people, she felt it was safe to say that Xander had indeed been helping Flamebird, only to come under fire from Doctor Light. The lady superhero was then killed by Doctor Light, causing Xander's powers to manifest and then the super villain was brutally killed by an enraged newborn Master of Magnetism. Flamebird must've gotten close indeed to her Sunnydale friend in order to provoke such a reaction by dying and, if that was indeed the case, then Light's death was justified.

After all, how could she hold Xander at fault for doing the same thing she herself was doing and would continue doing for weeks to come.

In any case, though, the fact that Xander now had the powers of Magneto meant that things were changing in more ways than one. Xander, regardless of how he'd gained them, would be compelled to use his powers to help others or punish those he felt had committed great evil of sufficient magnitude to warrant death. This would be noisy and all too noticeable because subtle the powers of the Master of Magnetism were not, especially when wielded by a novice.

Even now, months after the point where she ceased to care about keeping herself separate from the Black Widow, she was still not quite at the same level the Halloween memories showed Natasha to be at. Therefore, even with Magneto's memories, it'd take time for her friend to become skilled in the use of his mutant gift.

Whether or not her friend would actually take the time to train, though, would likely wait until his first real screw up with them before he'd realize he needed training.

Still, the one good thing it meant was that the odds of the two of them crossing paths in the future had just improved significantly.

Whether they would meet as allies or enemies… she would just have to wait and see.

Gotham City General Hospital

Gotham City, New Jersey

Three Days Later

It had been two days since Bette had died and yet the pain in his heart made it seem like only an hour had passed since her death.

Not only that but her death had… stirred up some memories, both his own and some that he'd 'inherited' from his predecessor, making for some sleepless nights. The doctors had noticed this and had decided to give him a light sedative for the remainder of his stay and would administer it a couple of minutes before lights out at the hospital. It took some of the edge off and made sure he didn't lose too much sleep but it didn't get rid of the nightmares completely. He still woke up every so often during the night, sometimes gasping the name 'Anya' while at other times it'd be 'Bette', and then it'd take him at least an hour and a half to get back to sleep.

He doubted that he'd have an uninterrupted night of sleep for at least a month, maybe longer if his luck went in the direction it usually did.

The cops had already been to speak with him about what happened in the warehouse district and he had apathetically decided to be as honest with them as he could without getting himself in more trouble. He'd admitted to being Flamebird's Q-branch and intel agent. He'd given them a more or less accurate accounting of what happened minus what he'd done after his powers had manifested. He didn't regret what he'd done and he'd do it again if put in the same position but confessing that you brutally tortured and then murdered a man in a fit of grief and rage wouldn't go over well with the GCPD. He'd even managed to come up with a story for why he was so far away from the warehouse and so close to the mangled dead body of Doctor Light. He'd told them that Bette had thrown herself at the super villain and told him to run which he had done but that a few minutes later the criminal had caught up with him. The super criminal had immobilized him, played with him and then out of nowhere some big guy in armor calling himself Apocalypse showed up, crosshairs firmly set on Doctor Light. He'd then conveniently said he'd been knocked out by something when he'd tried to crawl away and let the cops fill in the blanks however they liked.

Considering they hadn't been back to grill him on his story a second time, he could only conclude that they believed what he'd told them.

Of course he expected to be grilled by one more person, Batman, before he got discharged from the hospital and he doubted that the man reputed to be the world's greatest detective would fall for such a flimsy story. Still, unless the guy brought his Martian friend with him, there'd be nothing more to say then what he'd already told the police. He might take notes from the caped crusader on how to intimidate without saying a word but there was no way he was going to tell the entire unedited truth to the costumed hero.

The only good part about his current circumstances was the fact that the hotshot millionaire Bruce Wayne had for one reason or another decided to pick up his hospital tab for his treatment. He even thought he'd heard one of the nurses saying that the guy was having some people from Wayne medical look into ways to get him back on his feet sooner rather than later. Considering Doctor Light burned and cauterized a hole through three of his four limbs and did quite a number on his chest muscles, he wouldn't turn down some extra help. From what he'd heard, most muscle damage of this type took six months or more after surgery to recover and he didn't want to stick around that long alone in this room.

Alone with his thoughts of… her.

When she'd… she'd… when it happened, the two things he'd felt in abundance had been enough to keep the pain at bay and when they ebbed, his inner echo showed him how to make up the difference. Grief and rage took the place of his blood that night, forcing back the agony of his injuries as his mind became focused on one thing only.

REVENGE.

When he'd felt the pain trying to interfere with that goal, a whisper of the man whose powers he'd just inherited guided him in controlling the bio-electric energy within him to kick it on its ass. His control over this was far from perfect but it had allowed him to stay on target long enough to get the job done. After Light breathed his last, though, his goal of revenge was satisfied and the pain had come back with a vengeance, causing him to drop to the ground and lose consciousness in seconds.

He'd come to hours later in the hospital with bandages over his wounds and the pleasant buzz of painkillers in his system. The doctors gave him a once over then rattled off the damage before telling him how long it'd take for him to completely heal. Since the initial diagnosis he'd had hospital personnel come and go to check on him and make sure everything was okay but he'd kept quiet for the most part. He hadn't been rude towards them per se but he hadn't been his usual chatty self either.

Given what had happened, it'd be a long while before he became that chatty again if ever.

There were only three people he'd be interested in talking to, if only to convey his sorrow and condolences to them for the death of the one that was so dear to them. However neither Bette's parents nor her cousin Katherine had come to his room since he'd woken up here. The parents, he imagined, were too busy with funeral preparations and their own grief but Kate had been the sort of young woman he'd have expected to come at him fists swinging. The cousin of his beloved Bette had made it clear that she didn't approve of the plan to become a vigilante and had only allowed it after making sure his support and inventions would be enough. With Bette's death, he wouldn't be surprised if the young woman came for her pound of flesh and, at the moment, he wasn't sure he'd do anything to stop her. He should've anticipated Doctor Light seeking vengeance, should've strengthened security around the warehouse!

He should've done a lot of things, including perhaps trying harder to talk his late girlfriend out of the costumed crime fighter life no matter how stubborn she'd been about it.

One thing was for certain though: his days in Gotham were coming to an end.

With Bette's death there wasn't a place in the city that wouldn't remind him of her. It'd drive him utterly mad with misery if he stuck around so, as soon as he healed and paid his respects at her grave, he'd hop on the first bus out of Gotham City hopefully never to return. Where would he go? He didn't know and quite frankly he didn't really care so long as he put some serious distance between himself and Gotham City. The only place he could honestly say he wouldn't be going would be the state of California, even if all the information he'd dug up suggested that none of his friends resided there any longer.

He wanted a place where his past wouldn't haunt him, a place to recover from the cruel twist of fate he'd been dealt, and perhaps one day no longer feel like there was a knife permanently and painfully lodged in his heart.

Was that too much to ask?

One Month Later, Physical Therapy Room, Gotham City General Hospital, Xander's POV

"I believe I said you were ready for some light exercise Xander, NOT training for the Olympics," Doctor Mallory Kimball said, disapproval clearly in her voice.

"And ruin my chances for making the fastest recovery ever? Not… happening!" he replied as he lifted the twenty pound dumbbell for one more repetition.

"Considering I'm the one with the diploma's and certificates saying I know what I'm talking about, you better start listening to me if you don't want to make things worse." Mallory said sternly as she glared down at him for what had to be the tenth time since their sessions first started.

"C'mon! You heard the guy from Wayne Medical," he said before once more bringing the weight up. "I'm healing twice as fast as he thought I would with his treatment. At the rate I'm going, I'll be out of here in two months."

"That's IF the treatment still works the way it's supposed to for the next two months and IF you don't reinjure yourself by ignoring my recommendations." Kimball said, not giving up any ground but rather trying to gain some.

"I don't know about you but I think the guy knew what he was talking about," he said before he took a break from his exercise. "He used a lot of big words, made my brain hurt trying to make sense of it and didn't have me sign anything absolving him of any unforeseen side effects. That's good enough for me!"

He chuckled a bit as he watched her roll her eyes at his statement.

Both of them knew that he was not some high school drop out who barely knew how to read or write, but rather an inventor responsible for designing many a sophisticated invention. Still, the jokes helped ease his pain, both physical as well as mental, so he kept them coming whenever the opportunity arose. Sadly his memories of Bette were always lingering in the background and, so whenever his mood became to light, his mind would remember a similar time with his girlfriend, causing things to sour significantly. Mallory occasionally tried to turn his mood around and sometimes she even succeeded, but those instances were rare indeed.

"Just humor me, will you?" she asked, sounding like she was trying to compromise with him.

"For a pretty thing like you? Sure!" he said with a playfulness that didn't quite reach his eyes.

The lady doctor could see that as well and the kindness in her eyes made it clear why she chose to become a healer in the first place.

He had healed quite a bit and made progress with his physical therapy, he still wasn't at a point where he could walk all on his own. If the recovery estimates were anything to go by, it'd be at least another month before he'd be walking and another month or so after that before he could run without torturing himself in the process. Personally he was hoping to cut down on that even further but he wouldn't push his luck too far, if only to keep things between him and his physical therapist smooth. After all, the paperwork he needed in order to get out of the hospital required her signature on the dotted line, so no sense giving her a reason to drag her feet.

Putting the twenty pound dumbbell down, he made a show of picking up the ten pound one before beginning a new set of reps.

"Good. Fifty of those and then we'll move on to leg exercises," she said with a satisfied nod at him.

"Aye, captain!" he said with a very bad fake Scottish accent.

"That's Miss Captain to you!" she said back with a smirk on her face.

They continued the physical therapy session intended to restore his injured muscles to a healthy state so he could walk out into the world again without difficulty. It wasn't easy despite how optimistic he'd been earlier but he had more than enough reasons to give it everything he had each and every day. It was two and a half hours later that Mallory finally called it an end to the session, allowing him to return to his room and rest, so, using the wheelchair provided by the hospital, he began to make his way down the hallway to the elevator.

As he passed patients and hospital staff by, he let his thoughts wander but, when he passed a television in one of the waiting areas, he saw something that made him pause. It was a news broadcast but up in the corner was once again the sketch of the Red Widow, making him pause to hear if there was anything new to be said about his old friend.

"The Red Widow has struck again! This time in Chicago, Illinois, where she engaged in a brutal conflict with notorious Russian assassin Anatoli Knyazev also known as the KGBeast. This time, however, our co-workers at CBS Chicago were able for the first time ever to capture this mysterious killer of killers on camera." The news anchor took on a slightly more serious tone, "Be advised that the following video footage contains scenes of graphic violence and is not suitable for younger views. Please have all children leave the room immediately. Thank you."

A few seconds later a video recording began to play, showing a chaos-filled street with obliterated cars and scattered fires everywhere. It took a minute before the camera managed to settle on two people, a big, muscled man and an agile young woman, exchanging gunfire and a liberal amounts of explosives with each other. The man was garbed in a black and red outfit with some kind of high tech eye patch over one eye, as well as an impressive looking gun possibly cybernetically grafted onto the left arm. From what he could tell, the two of them appeared to be well matched with neither being able to pin down the other long enough to deliver the final blow. The cameraman had a bit of trouble keeping up with the two of them so there were times when he lost the action but, considering how fast the two combatants were moving, it was understandable. The footage went on for several minutes, showcasing the clashing of two masterful warriors, but it was Buffy's resourcefulness and ability to turn just about anything into a weapon that won her the fight. With a piece of debris used as a distraction, the blonde Slayer managed to get under KGBeast's guard and ram a bayonet blade up into the underside of the guy's jaw, piercing the assassin's brain.

With that the battle was done and the big man dropped to the ground like the lifeless lump of flesh he was.

"After successfully killing KGBeast, the Red Widow fled the scene just as local police officers arrived. Chicago PD pursued her but lost sight of her soon after. Officially the local police intend to conduct a thorough search of Chicago and, if they find the Red Widow, they will arrest her but this reporter wonders just how hard they will pursue her. With public opinion being divided on the mystery woman, authorities may wait to see which way the wind is blowing before taking definitive action."

Typical. Still, at least that'll buy Buffy the room she needs to get out of the city.

Continuing on to the elevator, he couldn't help but wonder where his old friend would pop up next. From what he knew, she seemed to be working her way across the country in her hunt for the assassins and, depending on how many there were, she might turn around once she hit the east coast or take a trip overseas. From what he could tell she'd managed to kill six assassins so far and, assuming that it was one assassin to one victim, then it'd be over with soon.

Unless she decided to go after not only the assassin but also those who might've played a part in their jobs in Sunnydale, in which case it could easily be another couple of months before she was done. Not that he'd shed a tear for the people she killed. He trusted her to take out only those who were truly responsible and truly irredeemable while leaving the rest to the police. Some collateral damage would likely happen as the guilty parties threw others in the path of the Red Widow but that would not be Buffy's fault.

As the elevator doors opened and he rolled his chair in, he began to wonder where his other friends were right now.

Where were Willow and Cordy?

Every time he had gotten bored helping… Bette, he'd gone online and tried to find his two friends using what he knew of them and their Halloween personaes. With Willow he kept an eye on the corporate world, knowing that sooner or later the tendencies of one Emma Frost would compel his best friend to seek out wealth and power. So far nothing had popped up but that could simply mean that she was still building her power base and wasn't ready yet to break away on her own. Even with all of the knowledge and personal inventions of the White Queen, it'd take time to gather the funds and make the connections necessary to found a company.

Then again, with her telepathy and Emma Frost's lack of morality when it comes to using that power, he could be seeing her big debut sooner rather than later.

Cordy, on the other hand, was all but impossible to nail down for a two simple reasons. First, if her powers really had awakened and were a match for Rogue's, then the socialite would likely follow the same M.O. by covering up as best she could to prevent skin contact. Secondly, depending on how freaked out Queen C really was, she'd either find someplace remote to live in order to further minimize chances of her powers being used or she might try to live as close to normal a life as possible. Not easy when all it took was the slightest bit of skin to skin contact to trigger her powers and cause both the mental as well as some of the physical characteristics of the other person to transfer. With these two reasons in place, tracking her would be next to impossible but he'd been keeping tabs through various channels for strange cases of unexplained comas or loss of consciousness.

One of the few times that paying attention to the tabloids was actually a good idea.

Getting off at his floor, he hoped perhaps one day the old gang would get back together but until then he'd do his best to get by.

Nine Weeks Later, Gotham City Cemetery, Mid-Afternoon

"Hey, Bette. Sorry for taking so long but this is the soonest they'd let me out," he said even as the rain coming down hid his own tears of sadness.

Looking down at the gravestone, the words and numbers inscribed upon it brought home something that he'd actually managed to suppress for the last three months. Her full name, her date of birth, date of… of death and words at the bottom letting all know who would mourn her passing to their dying day. Seeing these things brought the pain he'd experienced the night she died all back and it was only due to what resolve he could muster that everything metal didn't start chaotically floating about. They had had such a… such a wonderful life ahead of them, both of them together, with marriage being a very real possibility.

Now? Now all he had of her was memories.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Bette. I failed you. I should've predicted that Light might come after us." His voice becoming thicker with emotion by the minute. "I was supposed to be your support system, your back up, and I failed miserably. If I'd installed more safety precautions, more security in the surrounding area, or some way for you to detect invisible enemies, then maybe things would've turned out differently. I knew Light could turn himself invisible and like an amateur I didn't take precautions!"

Clenching his fists with self-loathing and frustration, it took a couple of minutes for him to get his emotions back under control.

"You paid the price for my lack of foresight and I'll have to carry that guilt with me until the day I die," he said as tears trickled down from his eyes. "I… I'm leaving Gotham. It's just too painful to stay here when everything I set eyes on reminds me of you. I will come back though, every year on the anniversary of your… of your death… to remember both the good times and the bad. I owe you that much at the very least. I… I love you, Bette Kane, and I always will. Be well… be happy."

With that he put down the dozen roses he bought on the mound of dirt that was just starting to grow in some grass.

Picking up the duffle bag he'd stuffed everything he considered essential into, he slung it over his shoulder and began to make his way out of the cemetery. He'd managed to purchase a motorcycle along with the necessary insurance, deciding it was time to stop relying on buses, and with a full tank of gas in it he'd be able to put some serious distance between himself and Gotham City. He had no particular destination in mind so he'd decided that, once he got out of the city, he'd pluck a handful of grass out of the ground, drop it and then see which way the wind blew. A little random and directionless but that was just how he felt at the moment so it fit him perfectly.

However when he finally gained direct line of sight with his new set of wheels, he found that someone he hadn't seen in months had decided it made a pretty good seat.

Katherine Kane.

Coming to a stop ten feet from her, he waited to see what she'd do and, if she decided on violence, he decided in under a second that he'd let her get her shots in without lifting a finger. They stared each other in the eye for he didn't know how many minutes before Kate got off his bike, walked up to him until they less than an inch apart and then…

…wrapped her arms around him in the strongest hug she could probably manage.

"I'm so sorry, Xander," Kate said, releasing the hug before take a step back. "I can only imagine how terrible you must feel right now."

This action, the complete opposite of what he'd been expecting, rendered him more than a little speechless and it must've shown on his face because Katherine smiled at him with a bit of amusement in her eyes.

"I bet you expected me to kick your ass the second we locked eyes, or maybe whip out a gun and try to kill you, right?" she asked rhetorically, with sad smile. "I could never do that to someone my cousin loved so much. Oh, I was completely pissed and irrational for the first month and if you'd showed yourself then, I would've put you in the ICU for sure. Now, though… now that I've had a few months to cope and think things through I know you'd have done anything and everything you could have to keep her safe. Plus… I can tell that you loved her more than anything, and that you're suffering as much as any member of our family. I'd feel like total crap attacking you when you feel the same as I do… maybe worse."

"Thanks, Kate. I really appreciate it," he said, feeling a mix of relieved, sad and happy at the moment.

"No problem. So, I take it that you're leaving?" Kate said, pointing at his duffel bag.

"Yeah. Too painful sticking around Gotham. Figured I'd go back on the road and see what's out there."

"I understand. Before you go there's something I want you to have."

Katherine opened up her purse and took out what looked like a photograph out before handing it to him.

"I figured you might hit the road so I went through my cousin's computer and cell phone and found this photo of you two," Kate said as put the photo right side up and looked at it. "Figured you might want something to remember the good times."

Droplets of what he knew were tears streamed down his face as he recognized the photo as the one Bette had had the caretaker of the Justice Society HQ take when they visited. They had been standing in front of a huge portrait of the entire team when they were in their prime and their member list was at its greatest. Bette had been feeling humorous and somehow convinced him to strike a heroic pose with her while Miss Lawrence took the picture. There had been such a light in her eyes that day, a light that had only shined brighter the first time she'd put her costume on, and it made him wish to do anything that was within his power to keep it there.

Now he would never see that light again.

"Thanks." He wiped the tears from his face and tucking the photo into his coat pocket. "I guess I'll see you… whenever."

"Yeah," she said, obviously not knowing what else to say.

With that the two of them parted company, him by bike and her by foot, and it'd be anyone's guess when they'd meet again.

New Haven, Connecticut

Three Weeks Later, Night, Local Junk Yard

Still need more practice, he thought as he looked at the piece of metal he'd tried to bend into a stylish S as smoothly as possible. There's still too much jerking with the formation.

It had been two weeks ago that he'd arrived in New Haven and it'd been then that he'd come to the decision to begin training with regards to his Magneto powers. As much as he hated how they'd switched on, he knew that ignoring them was only going to make things worse so, once he'd rented an apartment, he'd looked for a decent place to train. It took a day or three but he eventually located a junk yard with enough metal stuff heaped up into piles that he wouldn't run out of training material any time soon. From there he'd started out with simply being able to lift something off the ground, starting with screws and nails before moving onto heavier stuff. He was basically taking a page out of the Yoda training manual by first mastering basic lifting before moving onto making artificial solar systems in the air.

Some might wonder why he needed to train in how to use his powers when he'd used them rather effectively against Doctor Light. The answer?

The last echo and/or remnant of Magneto helped him.

He had honestly thought that all he had left of the Master of Magnetism was memories, mannerisms and possibly powers but it turned out that there was still one sentient sliver of the Halloween personality left lodged in his brain. All it had taken had been the death of someone close to him to shock it into action and from there it had been a whisper in his mind directing everything. He'd still been in the driver seat when he'd killed Doctor Light but the whisper of Eric Magnus Lensherr had been coaching him through everything. Now, though, the whisper was gone and that meant all he had were memories of Magneto using his powers but those weren't much better than books because the memories just showed him how it felt using them using Eric's body.

Using the powers with his body? Not the same, hence the training he was currently doing.

Fortunately, since he didn't have a job or any obligations to speak of, he could pretty much devote every waking minute he had to training. Thanks to that he'd gotten enough control over turning his powers on, off and using them to lift metal objects as big as a train car or as small as a metal bolt. Now he was working on the fine control so that he could smoothly manipulate the metal objects in his grip, so that he could twist or bend them into whatever shape he desired. With the weaker metals he used that wasn't a problem but when he'd worked his way up to the more heavy duty and durable metals, things were getting tougher. He could still bend them and twist them but it took decidedly more effort than before and the metal was moving in spurts rather than one continuous smooth motion. He knew he was probably asking for a lot and should probably just be satisfied with the jerky movements but there was this need within him to become just as good as his predecessor.

So he'd keep training until either the metal in the junk yard gave out or he succeeded in reaching Magneto levels of proficiency.

Okay… let's think this through, he thought as he stopped in his training to examine his past efforts. I can bend this metal but I can't seem to find out precisely how much force needs to be exerted on it to make it smoothly slide into shape.

Consulting his Magneto memories, he knew that different types of metal had different properties and that a lot of the stuff he'd been using was either rusted by time or damaged structurally. That meant his difficulties in finding a precise power level could simply have to do with the condition of the materials he was working with. Then again, if he ever had to step in, to help people, he could very well be dealing with a car that had been in an accident or an old building that was on fire so perfectly okay metal was not going to be readily on hand for him to manipulate.

Might also have to do with the fact that I'm trying to do it all at once rather than bit by bit. He briefly used his powers to lift a piece of metal off the ground. The magnetic field I'm generating might be stable enough to pick things up but, when I'm trying to bend things all at once, stability takes a nosedive.

It was a combo of focus and willpower that determined the stability of his electromagnetic fields. While he had a pretty good helping of both it could very well be the case that he needed to apply more if he was going to maintain optimum stability. That was going to require heap loads of meditation and more than a little training to get himself up to the level he needed to be at to master the power within him.

Looks like I've got my schedule made up for me for the next two weeks. He let the piece of metal fall to the ground with a grunt. Assuming two weeks is all I need to manage this part of the training, then I can move on to things like force fields and maybe even flight.

Maybe he was being a bit ambitious considering that Magneto learned a lot of the uses of his abilities over the course of decades but, with the memories he'd inherited, he should be able to reduce that by a serious amount. Still, he'd wait until he could manage metal manipulation, flight and force fields before trying to help people in any way. Just like he made sure that Bette was properly trained before he let her out as Flamebird, he wasn't about to put people's lives at risk until he could be sure zero mistakes would happen on his end. He'd put some of the more dangerous and difficult applications of magnetokinesis, like manipulation of non-metallic objects or organic iron manipulation on hold until he found a safe way to practice with them.

He wasn't keen on using rats only to have them explode or try to manipulate glass only to cut someone up by accident.

On the plus side, at least he didn't see the need to know how to generate infrared radiation or open wormholes. Both applications of electromagnetic spectrum manipulation were decidedly flashy and didn't have any real benefits when it came to saving lives.

Still, if someone like Doctor Light comes my way again, maybe I can use the radiation bit to cook them from the inside out, he thought with a bit of darkness before letting the storm cloud lift.

Checking his watch, he saw that it was getting pretty late so it'd probably be best if he called it a night and went back to his apartment. Not that there was much to do in it. Whenever he'd thought about putting in a TV or something recreational, he felt… bad, like he was somehow betraying Bette's memory. It'd been months since her death and still he couldn't bring himself to let go of the pain within his heart. As long as that pain remained, he'd never be able to truly enjoy anything without feeling like his late girlfriend's ghost was glaring at him.

He didn't know how long it'd be before his heard would be healed enough to move on but he'd put his faith in the old phrase 'time heals all wounds'.

There was nothing else he could do.

One Month Later, New Haven, Junk Yard, Late Evening

Xander's POV

Damn I'm good! he thought as he looked down from his aloft position fifty feet up in the air. Flight, I'd say, is in the bag. I'm holding this height with no problem, so all that's left is to see if I can actually travel with it and how far.

He willed himself to rise into the air and every few seconds he increased the acceleration of his flying until he felt it matched the velocity of him going all out on a bicycle while going down a steep hill. He made it to a pretty decent speed all things considered, maybe city driving speed, but he doubted that that was his limit. The amount of power he was employing at the moment felt like he was just doing a light jog, so he could only imagine how fast he'd go if he poured every bit of power he could generate into it. His memories from Eric told him that with some inventive thinking and use of the planet's own magnetic field, he could very well reach speeds equal to most military fighter planes. He wasn't quite adventurous enough to try that but perhaps in another few months, once he gained more experience tapping into the planet's magnetic field, he'd give it a try.

Seeing his apartment ahead, he slowed down to a more reasonable speed before descending to the largest of the windows and, using his magnetic powers, to open it. He'd walked to the junk yard rather than riding his bike because he'd been confident that he'd be able to master flying by the end of his training session. With that having been proven true, he figured it'd be best if from here on out, with the exception of long distance trips, he'd use his power of flight to get around. After all, the more he did it, the more proficient he'd get in it and the more complex moves he could perform if he ever got in a pinch or had to some serious maneuvering. True, that wasn't exactly what Magneto would do, he'd keep up the image of 'homo-superior' with both power and cunning, but he wasn't so cocky that he'd take that route.

Not for a couple of years at least.

As his feet touched down on the carpet of his apartment, a feeling pinged in his mind strongly enough that on instinct alone he turned his head in that direction. It was the oddest sensation, like he instinctively knew that something was wrong somewhere, and it took him a couple of minutes before he could come up with a possible explanation. Due to the nature of his magnetic powers, Magneto had a very unique connection to the planet's magnetic field and that allowed him to sense things about it particularly disruptions in it. Right now he was picking up a big one but it felt… off somehow, and even his inherited memories couldn't put a label to it. Whatever it was, he was going to label it as not of the good and, while his logic said to leave it for one of the big superheroes to deal with, his inner curiosity was urging him to investigate. He knew it was close and, according to his memories, there were no cities close by that had a resident superhero who could handle something like this.

I'm probably going to regret this, he thought as he moved to the closet and pulled out his duffle bag. But at least I'll be properly dressed and, with a little luck, no one will look past the helmet.

When he'd first left Sunnydale, he'd taken his Magneto costume with him because, while at the time he'd decided to do everything he could to keep his powers from popping out, he knew he'd need a disguise of sorts for when they did. Once he'd gained some operating capital from his patents, he'd made it a hobby of sorts to make the costume more battle ready without starting from scratch. By the time he'd hooked up with Bette, he'd made some progress in making it less of a Halloween costume and more of an actual functional superhero costume but then his focus had moved to something else. In between training his girlfriend, making her costume and general hanging out, he'd still worked on it but that was at best five hours a week. That'd been enough for him to install Magneto's anti-telepath tech into the helmet that had been reinforced for added durability, as well beginning the necessary improvements to the rest of the costume.

He'd finished just before Doctor Light had come on the scene with his break-ins and threats against Gotham City.

It was almost like some higher power had known things would turn out this way and had made sure that his outfit would be ready in time for the emergence of his powers.

If this turns out to be true, then whoever this higher power is had better hope I never learn their name or address because then we'll see how well they match up against the Master of Magnetism.

It didn't take him long to put his costume on and, once he slid the helmet on, he raised himself up into the air and flew out of the open window, quickly ascending to just under radar altitude. In terms of speed though he'd need to go a great deal faster than he had when coming back from the junk yard because, unless he missed his guess, the disturbance he felt was in the next state. That meant that if he wanted to get there in time to head off a problem, assuming this was a threatening phenomena, he'd have to skip a couple of lessons and go straight to tapping into the Earth's magnetic field to increase his speed to the mach level. In no time at all he was making great time and, based on what he was feeling, it was a good thing because the disruption he was feeling was getting stronger.

Something tells me I'm not going to like what I find when I get there.

It felt like a piece of the field was being put under incredible strain, like some outside force was trying to tear a hole in it, and he didn't like the implications of that. It made him think all too much of the Hellmouth back in Sunnydale and, if some demon or warlock was trying to open a portal to a demon dimension or hell itself, then he had to get there as fast as he could. Depending on the method being used to open the portal, as well as what dimension was being connected to Earth, if he was even a minute late it could be too late to save the day. With that in mind he pushed his speed even higher and almost regretted it since his control proved to be somewhat less than perfect at the higher velocity. Willpower, thankfully, made the difference and soon his flying stabilized but now he knew one thing he'd have to work on later when there wasn't an apocalypse on the horizon.

It took him less than an hour at his high speed to finally arrive at the epicenter of the disturbance and what he found was something that had him wishing for some serious back up. He was indeed right that a portal was forming but there was no one within two hundred yards of ground zero that he could see, either with his eyes or his powers. Granted, he didn't have much practicing sensing living beings with his magnetic abilities but even with the skills of an amateur he should've been able to sense SOMETHING. In any case it could only mean that someone was punching through from the other side, meaning either serious power or serious numbers. Neither option was in his favor but, since he was the only person there, he had no choice but to do whatever he could to step the tide of demons that were likely to be pouring out any second now.

Tapping into his magnetic powers a bit more, he detached a handful of metal shards from the inside of his cape and arrayed them about his aloft position, ready to strike. He knew that his predecessor usually used the metal in the environment or the metal his opponents had on their persons to defeat them but he'd decided to go one step further. He'd gotten the idea from the memories Eric had of the X-Man Archangel when he had devised this new method of arming himself, basing it on the metal feathers the billionaire had been able to launch from his metal wings. With his magnetic powers he could do things with the metal shards that the X-Man had probably only dreamed of doing; changing their course mid-flight, creating a storm of deadly steel around a foe and being able to use shards more than once were just some of the benefits. He'd done some training with them using this method but this would be the first time he'd use them in actual combat.

It was a good thing he'd prepared himself because cracks began to form in mid-air, spreading outward from a central point until it was easily twenty feet in radius. Then, like someone hitting a baseball through someone's window, a piece of reality shattered with the fragments, falling to the ground before dissolving into dust that swiftly faded away. In place of this piece of reality was a jagged hole that seemed to lead to world of blackest stone and blood red skies but that was all just background information. What had his attention was first the young woman running from a horde of armored demons that seemed dead set on capturing the teenage girl and wouldn't be all that gentle about it. The girl wore thigh high boots, a sleeveless dress with slits that stopped a couple of inches above where her boots did, elbow length gloves with all but one finger covered and a hooded cloak that only let him see her face from the nose down. The entire outfit was midnight blue in color and definitely flattered her figure, if he was any judge but, more importantly, it looked like punching a hole through to this dimension took a lot out of her. He could see signs of fatigue in her movements and she was slowing down, meaning the demon horde behind her would catch up sooner rather than later.

Now if I was smart I'd take my past luck with supernatural females and just turn around, he thought, considering the possibility that saving the fleeing damsel would be the wrong thing to do. Then again, I get crappy luck no matter what I do more often than not, so I guess I'll go with my instincts on this one.

He directed the metal shards around him towards the demon horde at speeds only magnetic forces could provide and watched them tear through demon flesh. Not all of them hit flesh, though, and the armor the foul beings were wearing was strong enough to keep them from penetrating deep enough to draw blood. Nevertheless, this did have the positive effect of splitting the horde's attention between their original prey and him, so his tactic was at least partially effective. Projectiles that were a mix of fireballs and nasty looking arrows were sent his way but on a hunch he chose to erect a barrier as well as evade the threats to his life.

This proved to be the right course of action because somehow the projectiles succeeded in piercing his magnetic barrier with little if any difficulty. For a moment he thought that it was just because it hadn't been strong enough but decided that it was more likely that since the attacks were demonic in origin, they were immune to his powers. Not good. Then again maybe it only pertained to their weapons and that bit of hope was enough to make him try something with their armor.

Reaching out with one hand, he grabbed the armor of one of the demons with his powers and then he flung his hand to the left as hard as he could, like he was tossing away a piece of trash. He smiled with satisfaction as the demon flew through the air before slamming through a couple of trees before the last one stood up to it. Happy to know that it was only the demons' weapons that were immune to his powers, he decided it'd be best to finish this confrontation before the horde figured out a way to beat him. Bringing forth both his hands, he grabbed the armor of each demon and then flung them back through the hole between dimensions as hard as he could.

That'll buy some time but, unless we slam the door in their faces, they'll probably just keep coming. He turned his gaze on the damsel that'd been in distress. Probably a good time to go down and find out if mystery girl down there is on the side of the angels or worse than the bunch I just moved back.

Descending to the young woman he'd saved, it looked like she was slowly getting her second wind back and that was good because, if she was the one that opened the hole in reality, she'd know how to close it as well.

At least he really hoped she could.

His experience from Sunnydale had taught him that even an amateur could make the mistake of reading a dusty inscription or activating a magical talisman. Those kind of people were generally no help at all when it came to solving the problems they created.

"So, pretty lady, now that I've saved you from the demons, do you think you could work your magic and patch up this hole in reality for me?" he asked casually yet with some friendship mixed in. "'Cause I'm thinking they aren't quite ready to call it a night just yet and I'm not big on repeating myself by sending them back through again."

"I… cannot…" replied the young cloaked woman as she directed her gaze to him. "It took… all I had to tear a hole… in the dimensions… to get here. It would take… at least a few… hours to recover… my strength enough… to seal the… breach."

He sighed. Typical.

Looking through the hole in reality he could see the demonic horde recovering and, unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, that group was about to get some air support from their winged siblings.

"Oh, of course," he griped. He might have had luck with the first horde because they hadn't been ready for him but he somehow doubted that'd be the case the second time around. If they got through again, he'd be in a serious pickle and he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep the demons from their target or from simply spreading out into the world from here. Through his training he found out that his limit was about twenty people-sized objects that also weighed about as much as your average person. Whenever he tried to pick up more than that, he either overcompensated with his magnetic grip, crunching them a bit, or his hold over the object was too light, causing them to slip through his fingers.

Needless to say there were quite a few more demons heading his way.

Guess it's time to take a play from the 'desperate times and desperate measures' playbook.

The air crackled with energy and arcs of electro-magnetic energy lit up the night from where it was concentrated around his hands. Raising both arms into the air, he tried to draw in the power of Earth's very magnetic field because he had a feeling that it'd take more than his own innate power to pull this off. Too bad calling on the power of the planet itself was like trying to push a car uphill using nothing but your own muscles. Still, he was a stubborn guy and it took quite a bit for him to give up on something or someone once he set his mind to it, so little by little he was getting the extra power he needed. The only downside to this little move was that he was fairly sure that the Justice League would pick up on it and it'd only be a matter of time before they arrived. Considering what he'd done to Gotham's warehouse district, he seriously doubted it'd be a good idea to meet them so soon.

Maybe he'd be ready for them in a couple of years once the whole mess wasn't so fresh in their minds, but definitely not now.

Once he thought he had enough power, he looked into his mind for any Magneto memories that had anything to do with shutting down holes in space, reality or time. Sadly a lot of those memories involved some sort of device or mystic set up that just needed to be destroyed in order to allow nature to take care of the rest. While he wasn't ruling out that happening with this hole, he wasn't seeing any healing so he'd bet it would take a couple of hours for it to close on its own.

Not good enough.

After what seemed like forever, even though it was only two or three minutes, he found information he could apply to the present situation. It basically amounted to seeing each 'thread' of reality around the opening with his electromagnetic sight and using his power to feed them energy in order to accelerate the normal healing process. He began channeling the energy he'd gathered to the edges of the hole, connecting the two dimensions at a rate consistent with the kitchen faucet open all the way. Watching with scrutinizing eyes, he waited to see if what worked in the original Magneto's universe would also save the day in this one. He could only growl with disappointment when his eyes spied SOME regeneration occurring but it was still going far too slow for his liking. He'd like it all to be done in the next ten minutes if possible since he figured he had fifteen before the League arrived to investigate things.

This caused him to up the amount of energy he was directing at the edges from fully open water faucet to fireman's hose.

This caused something both good and bad to occur.

On the one hand it was definitely causing the hole in reality to close at a speed he liked very much but on the other hand he was beginning to lose control of the electromagnetic energy he'd gathered. The loss of control could be fixed by simply turning down the power flow but that'd also slow down the mending of the tear in reality, thus increasing the odds of a meeting with the Justice League that he didn't want. Tightening his focus, he did all he could to bring the energy back under his control while not reducing the amount of energy he was using to mend the hole between worlds. The decline in control reversed itself somewhat but he knew it'd resume the moment his level of focus and resolve dropped.

It was a good thing he received some help right about then.

"I might not be able to close the breach with my power alone…" the young woman said as black energy flowed from her hands to mingle with his along the edges of the hole, "…but perhaps together we can end this before anyone else gets hurt."

It was odd, he could feel her energy mixing with his own, but he couldn't argue with the results.

With her help he could ease up on his own power output and that allowed him to get a firmer grip on the energy he commanded, preventing any nasty after effects of his efforts. Watching the hole shrink, he was about to smile with satisfaction at what seemed to be inevitable victory when he saw something in the other dimension that made him feel like he was looking at the devil himself. In the distance, WAY behind the horde that was getting closer to the portal, was humanoid figure with antlers and four glowing eyes. Judging from the distance, he'd bet good money that it'd be skyscraper size if he stood next to it but it wasn't that that caused a shiver of fear to go down his back.

It was the sheer EVIL that the four eyes conveyed.

This was an evil on a scale far different than anything he'd ever experienced before, even counting all the demons back in Sunnydale and that was saying something. This made even the big bads that usually threw down with the Justice League seem like little leaguers by comparison and that made him all the more determined to close the portal as quickly as he could. The sooner it was closed, the sooner he could stop feeling as though he was looking the grim reaper in the face when it had its scythe poised to cut.

His prayers were answered minutes later when the breach between worlds was about the size of a grapefruit when, with a snap, it disappeared from sight. Even using his power he couldn't feel anything more than mild aftershocks from the portal and those were getting weaker by the second.

Thank God that's over. He gradually released the energy he'd gathered back into its natural magnetic field. I can most definitely go a good long while before experiencing something like this again.

A soft thump caused him to look to the right to see that the young woman he rescued had collapsed. This made him think that maybe, just maybe, she'd overestimated how much she'd recovered from her earlier exertions and was now paying the price. Kneeling down by her side, he checked her pulse to find that it was still going strong and his magnetic powers told him that, while she was exhausted, it was nothing life threatening.

Or at least that's what he believed a slightly weakened bio-electric field meant but, then again, he wasn't an expert so he could be wrong.

This led to something of a question: leave her here and hope that the Justice League arrived soon enough to take care of her or take her with him to get the full story back at his apartment. The former offer was pretty compelling since it meant that he could get back to his life while leaving any loose ends to the real heroes of the planet Earth. Superman, Batman and the others were the heavy hitters with more experience and facts then he could ever have, so they'd be better at helping the dark haired young woman unconscious on the ground.

On the other hand… seeing as how she apparently came from a demon dimension, there was no telling how much of it had tainted her body or if she was even human to begin with. There were plenty of demonic species that looked completely human to the naked eye and generally only showed their true colors when they tapped into their powers. If the League found her, they might think she was trying to start a demon invasion or something and throw her in prison. It was pretty much a knee jerk reaction among the professionals in the demon hunting business to assume the worst and deal with unknowns permanently rather than risk an apocalypse. At the same time, though, he knew from Giles that there were some demonic species that were neutral while others were actually of benefit to mankind. Whether or not the League knew this was debatable but, considering they usually only got called in to deal with the hostile ones, it didn't take a rocket scientist to guess what'd happen if they found her.

One of these days I have GOT to get my head examined, he thought as he picked the young woman up bridal style before taking to the skies.

Thus he made his way back to his apartment in New Haven.

New Haven, Xander's Apartment, Ten Hours Later

Sleep was like a comforting blanket that wrapped you in warmth so soothing that some don't want to leave it regardless of what their body said about being fully rested. Sleep was preferable to all the problems that existed in the waking world and, if one was good enough, they could control their dreams completely. Such people could make a paradise for themselves inside their own minds and be happier than they could ever remember being.

This was not the case with her.

For her, sleep was a trap that she fell into every time her body became too weary to remain awake and, once asleep, her descent into darkness began, her descent towards HIM, and oh did he enjoy tormenting her. Sometimes he would grant her a peaceful beginning, surrounded by sights and sounds that caused her to feel… content, but always would it turn into a nightmare just as she began to wrap herself in it. Pain, suffering, torture and death would come destroying what had once made life worthwhile for her until nothing but desolation remained. Other times she would dream of the desolate wasteland first only to be tormented by fleeting glimpses and whispering voices reminding her of what she'd lost.

Either way, sleep was not something she could ever remember enjoying like others often did.

That was why when the first tendrils from the waking world reached out for her, she did not hesitate to grab onto them with both hands and pull herself away from the horrible world of dreams. With the haze of slumber leaving her, she opened her eyes and confusion met her as she did not recognize what she was seeing. It took her a moment to realize that she was in a bed and another to sit up in order to take in the room around it. Some of it was similar to what she knew but other parts were so alien she knew not what to make of it. There were… devices that seemed magical but her training in Azarath told her that there was no magic present. Throwing the bed sheets off of her, she got off the bed and stood up, intent on finding out where she was as well as how she came to this place since it was too early to consider herself safe. Opening the door of the room she'd woken up in, she entered what appeared to be a general living area but it was the person that she found there that she chose to focus on.

Floating a few feet off the ground, surrounded by pieces of metal of all shapes and sizes, was a young man with white hair wearing an expression of determined resolve and focus. For a moment she was puzzled by what she saw since she had performed similar feats with her own powers without significant strain but then she saw the truth. A single sphere of metal was navigating its way along a path only the unknown man knew and, while its course was steady for the most part, there was an occasional wobble that she could see with her eyes. An exercise to improve control, perhaps? The path the sphere was taking did seem to be quite complex from what she could see and he did seem to be trying to complete it as quickly as possible without sacrificing control, so it was a fair theory. It came to an end a minute later then as the various pieces of metal dropped gently to the ground, not one piece bouncing as they touched the floor.

"Sleep well?" he asked as he opened his eyes to look at her.

"How did you-?" she asked, a little surprised that he'd known she was there.

"Know you were there?" he asked rhetorically with a small grin. "My powers are magnetic in nature and electricity is related to magnetism. It's a bit hard picking out organic bio-electricity out but I'm getting better at it."

Impressive, she thought as she considered the skill the young man had shown himself to possess. "To answer your question, I slept well."

"Good. Opening and closing that portal must've taken a lot out of you," he said as he got to his feet and began to make his way over to the far side of the room where more odd metal constructs were located. "You hungry? I could probably put a simple meal together for you."

Before she could speak, her body chose to reply for her rumbling with a desire for sustenance.

It was rather embarrassing for her.

"Guess that answers that question," he said with only a friendly grin. "One quick meal coming up."

With that she realized that the area he was going to must be some sort of kitchen and it did match the ones she'd seen in her home of Azarath. Deciding to take in more of the world around her while she waited for the meal, she looked about before finding a window that looked inviting. Walking over to it, she looked out and saw a world that looked both alien and familiar at the same time, making her feel somewhat uncertain about her future. Just like the world she came from there were streets and sidewalks but unlike the world of her birth, instead of horse-drawn carriages there were more machines. The clothes the people below wore possessed similar colors and shapes but had an aesthetic quality to them that no one in her home could have devised on their own. Still, the one thing that she could safely say both worlds had in common was the variety of people that travelled up and down the sidewalks.

There were the young and old, men and women, as well as people of different ethnic backgrounds.

That commonality was something she could build on in the place that was likely to become her home from this day forward.

"Well, here it is," came her acquaintance's voice from behind her. "I didn't know what you preferred so I kept it relatively simple."

Turning around she approached the table as the young man whose name she did not know yet placed a glass of water and a plate of food on it. Toasted bread and cheese made up the meal with a small bit of what she believed to be butter in one corner of the plate. It was indeed a simple meal but not one that she was unused to given the modest leanings the Temple of Azar had surrounded her with as she'd grown up. Tentatively tasting everything on the plate, she was glad to discover that they were precisely the same as what she routinely ate growing up. With the uncertainty of the food gone she began to eat more casually while trying to orient herself with her new circumstances.

Doing so caused her to remember her past, as well as the reason for her desperate departure from the place that had been her home for almost two decades. In the world of Azarath, a philosophy of peace and non-violence ran through everything, from the natural world around her to the very veins of the people that inhabited it. She and her mother were the only exceptions but that was because they were not truly of that world, rather had been brought to it as an act of benevolence by the members of the Order of Azar. While her mother, Arella, did not speak of her past often, she got the impression that the woman had been at the lowest point in her life when she'd been found by the inhabitants of the temple. It had been only a few months after that she'd been born and, while like any person she didn't remember much of her first few years, she could remember the rest well enough.

She remembered the loneliness most of all.

Despite the fact that she was given food to eat and a place to sleep, she never once felt any connection to those around her, nor did they ever make any effort to reach out to her. All she knew of the other residents of the Temple were the lessons they taught her to control her powers as well as the emotions that were tied to them. In her early years she'd tried to make friends with those that were the same age as her but, as rejection after hurtful word were thrown at her, she soon realized that she wouldn't find friendship in the world of Azarath. The only place she could find comfort and love was from her mother but, for many years, that was enough.

Not until her thirteenth birthday when the truth of her existence was made known to her in all its horrible glory.

She was the daughter of Arella and the evil demon, Trigon.

It had been reluctantly that her mother had told her the entire tale to her and only periodical prodding by one of the higher ranked members of the Order had kept Arella going. It had all started when her mother had not been much older than her and she had run away from a home filled with nothing but hate and hardship. For weeks her mother had let chance determine the path she would take until finally it led her to a condemned church. Arella had sought refuge from the rain coming down outside and, when she'd spotted a vase filled with water, the thirsty young woman hadn't hesitated. It was only after that her mother had learned that the church wasn't as abandoned as she'd originally thought. A religious order used the building as a place of worship and had told her mother that their god had clearly brought her to them so that she could join them. It had been a temptation made up of love, acceptance and finally a place to belong so given that, up until then, Arella had experienced virtually none of that trio to date, it was no surprise that her mother had joined the group.

For a time her mother bathed herself in all the things that most normal families took for granted and ignored anything that even hinted at something not being as it should be. In time her dedication and her bonds to the other members of the religious group earned her the honored role of being the one to join with the otherworldly being that all of them worshipped it. When the ceremony finally happened, it had been everything she'd hoped for when a heavenly being appeared before her in the form of the perfect man. It had only been when their lovemaking reached its climax that the truth had been revealed in all its horror. Gone was the handsome face and human body, replaced with that of demon whose evil was all too easy to perceive. Terrified of what she'd done and what the act implied, her mother had fled as fast as her feet could carry her, barely taking the time to cloth herself in a simple robe.

For days Arella had run from the horrible mistake she'd made but even then she knew it was already too late for she could feel the child that had been created growing within her stomach. Numerous times she'd tried to end her life, believing that by doing so she'd make up for her sin, but sadly the damage her birth family had done could not be totally erased. She'd been too cowardly to kill herself and the one time she'd come close was when she'd been approached by the members of the Order of Azar. They had taken her in and once more Arella had found peace but it had been laced with the terrible truth of the demon Trigon and a prophecy that had been seen by a seer of their Order. That, when eighteen years had passed since her mother's unholy union, Trigon the Terrible would cross over and lay waste to everything as he became one with all of reality. Naturally they assumed that it would be her eighteenth birthday and so she'd asked why she'd been allowed to live if she was such a threat to Azarath. The higher ranked member of the Order had made it clear that it was not their way to employ violence to resolve issues, but rather they followed their philosophy of peace trusting that it would take them down the correct path.

It was with this in mind that the Order had chosen to use their teachings to stop Trigon's coming by denying him the means by which he could cross over. This had been the reason for her lessons in suppressing her emotions and why she had been taught how to use her arcane powers. It had been the Order's hope that by eliminating the fertile ground in which Trigon's influence could grow and teaching her strict control of her own powers their world would be saved. Knowing the truth, she was saddened to learn of her role but accepted that in order for a world to be spared obliteration she must sacrifice her emotions.

It was one day ago that Trigon proved this sacrifice pointless.

It was then that all who knew waited to see if their efforts would work out like they'd hoped or if all would fall to ruin. Tragically it was the latter but events did not occur as had been expected because, instead of her opening the portal that would admit Trigon to Azarath, it was Arella that exploded in crimson light. Before any could say anything the energy took the form of a circle and then split off into sections to form symbols and finally the gateway to the dimension where her infernal father waited was formed. It was after he stepped through and his very presence began to corrupt the entire dimension in which Azarath resided that the demon revealed his deception. It had never been his intention to use her to invade a new dimension, but rather he implanted the means of his transition in Arella. It had been a close thing according to the demon but in the seconds he'd initially gazed upon her mother the crimson creature had decided to deviate from his usual practices in order to gain something he had never previously desired.

An heir.

It was in light of this revelation that she'd fled much as her mother had, in the deluded hopes of escaping the horrible future set before her. Sadly the transforming landscape around her made it clear that no matter where she ran in the dimension of her birth, she'd never escape her father. It had been then that she'd attempted the one thing she had learned the theory of but had never attempted to do herself.

Open a portal to another dimension.

The Order of Azar had done it to recruit her mother and, as part of her lessons, she had been instructed in how it could be done, but knowing something in theory was different than actually doing it. Nevertheless she managed it even though she was quite sure that her teachers would call her execution unrefined, if not savage, but considering her circumstances, she believed she could be forgiven for a lack of skill.

And now I find myself in a new dimension in the company of one I owe my life to, she thought as she turned to look at her white haired savior. Had he not come to my aid, it is likely I would even now be chained to my father's throne of bones.

She knew not who he was but it was made clear by the display of power he showed in closing her portal that he was to be respected.

"So… not to be too nosy, but… I don't suppose you could give me your name and maybe explain what happened last night?" the young man asked somewhat awkwardly. "Name's Xander Lensherr, by the way."

"My name is Raven," she replied, deciding to be as honest as she could be given how little she knew about Xander. "As for what happened, that is a tale that will take some time to tell."

The Watchtower, Low Earth Orbit, Meeting Hall, Same Time, Superman's POV

"Any new information on that disturbance in Salem you detected, Zatara?" he asked as they closed the book on the previous matter that was up for discussion.

"I have completed what repairs were necessary to that portion of reality but whoever did the lion's share of the work possessed considerable skill and power," Zatara replied from his chair at the conference table. "All I had to do was tie up a few loose ends, mystically speaking. The most interesting part though was the demon soldier I apprehended last night not too far from where the dimensional tear happened in the first place. It took a few hours but I was able to learn that the demon served an evil entity known as Trigon and that he had been ordered to bring Trigon's daughter back to him."

"Do you know anything about this daughter of Trigon?" Batman asked, no doubt planning a search for this unknown woman.

"Very little, I'm afraid. There have been rumors in the arcane circles I travel of a cult that worshipped Trigon based out of Phoenix, Arizona eighteen years ago. According to what I was told, they intended to bring their master here to our Earth but got sloppy with some key element that slipped through their fingers," Zatara replied, turning to look at the dark knight. "With the help of a few friends we were able to shut down the cult and banish its leader, Brother Blood, to a prison in a pocket dimension we use. Many of the cult members and Brother Blood himself swore that their time would come when the daughter of Trigon opened the way for her father to come to our world. I have not thought on what they said until today but the dark energies within the demon I apprehended in Salem and the area itself do seem indicate the involvement of a high level demon."

"Can you track her?" Wonder Woman asked, no doubt concerned about a demonic threat being on the loose.

"Normally that would not be a problem, however, while not complete, the amount of electromagnetic radiation that saturated the area we investigated has muddied the waters so to speak." Zatara replied, making it clear he was trying. "I intend to continue my search once this meeting is over but, unless this daughter of Trigon taps into her demonic power again in a significant way, it will take time."

"Stay on it," Batman said while no doubt making a list of his own to follow up on. "Another interesting piece of information that I've discovered and think you should all be aware of is that the E.M signature we found at the clearing is a match for the one I found in Gotham's warehouse district a few months ago."

"But there were no tire tracks leading to or from the clearing and no aircraft could've gotten out of range before we arrived," he said, recalling his scan of the area using his various vision powers.

"Someone with powers could have and data I received from S.T.A.R Labs confirms my theory," Batman stated before bringing up a period of satellite scans. "The satellite wasn't completely in the correct position to get provide a complete scan of what happened but it did record something or someone tapping directly into Earth's electromagnetic field. I've already spoken to several experts and they say that a machine capable of that would either be not of this world or big enough to be seen ten miles away. However, as we've all experienced at one point or another, a being with superpowers or a major player in magical circles could've managed it."

"It must be a new superhuman then. I searched the area surrounding the clearing thoroughly and the only magic I saw came from the other realm or from the person I suspect is Trigon's daughter," Zatara said, no doubt after recalling his actions when they'd arrived on the scene.

"Could we track this Magnet Man guy then?" Captain Marvel asked with his usual naïve honesty. "Maybe the two of them hooked up?"

"I've been trying to locate this superhuman since he first showed up in Gotham without success," Batman stated in an even tone of voice. "Either the nature of his powers hides all but the most powerful uses of it or this person knows we're looking for him and is doing his best to remain hidden."

"In either case, our only option is to stay on alert in case either Trigon's daughter or this unknown superhuman pop again," Aquaman said with the wisdom that came with being a king. "With luck, at least one of them will turn up in a city with a Zeta Tube so we can confront them before they can escape."

"I will notify those I trust in the arcane community to keep an eye out for any newcomers. With the evil of her father running through her, Trigon's daughter will likely try something before long." Zatara said, putting in his contribution. "Perhaps she'll even try to resurrect the cult in which case monitoring its surviving members might be prudent."

"Do it." Batman said in a no nonsense sort of way.

"Is there anything else that needs to be discussed?" he asked since he was unable to think of anything else they could do to track down Trigon's daughter or the unknown superhuman.

Silence was all he got as a reply.

"Then this meeting is adjourned." He banged the gavel down once.

With this the various members of the Justice League began to disperse either to someplace on the Watchtower or back down to their respective cities of operation. He himself had to get back to his desk at the Daily Planet to write that expose on Intergang that Perry was planning on making a front page story for tomorrow's morning edition. It wouldn't take took long as he had already gathered enough of the facts to write the piece, but typing and moving at speeds consistent with the human norm still required that he start working on it as soon as possible.

Looking over at Bruce, he found his friend apparently having a conversation with someone and, while most would see nothing out of the ordinary, those who were closer to him could see small bits of annoyance in his body language. Curious as to who or what could get under the skin of a man famous for staying in control no matter what, he walked over and just managed to catch the tail end of the conversation.

"…good. Go ahead with those preparations," Batman said before there was a flicker in his movements. "I'll be there in an hour. Batman out."

"Something going on back in Gotham?" he asked politely on the off chance that his friend would give him some information.

"Bruce Wayne has a business meeting in Quarc next week," Batman replied before heading for the Zeta Tubes.

"You expect trouble?" he asked, mentally reviewing his schedule in case he his friend needed help.

"Where Queen Bee is concerned, anything is possible," Batman replied with his usual optimism. "Fortunately the security precautions my new head of security just listed for me should be enough to make even that madwoman reconsider trying anything."

"You managed to find one?" he asked with a bit of puzzlement. "I thought you were still reviewing possibilities in your personnel files."

"I was however I ran into someone with superior qualifications to anyone currently working security at Wayne Enterprises." Batman replied without any emotion. "It took her some time to gain the respect of the rest of the department but now everything's fine."

"Good to hear," he said, knowing that the way his friend phrased it implied he respected this new security chief and respect wasn't something Bruce handed out easily.

With that the two of them went their separate ways through the Zeta Tubes that were their primary means of going to and from the Watchtower. However it was as he stepped out of the concealed Metropolis exit point that he remembered that the League would be discussing giving Robin, Speedy, Kid Flash and Aqualad partial access to the interior of the Hall of Justice in a couple of months. Personally he believed the kids had earned it by completing their training and showing that they could apply what they'd been taught in the field. He was a bit concerned that the quartet might be a bit annoyed at only partial access but the four of them were still young and still had much to learn before they'd be ready for the sort of threats the League encountered every other week.

Better to take it slow and steady than rush things. After all, they have plenty of time to grow into the newest members of the League.

Unknown Location, Later

The door opened and a person entered but knelt as soon as he came within arm's reach of the one he served to his dying breath.

"Master, we have received the recording of the Justice League's latest meeting." He held out a data stick that presumably held the information.

He took it and then gestured for his servant to leave immediately.

It took less than a minute for him to insert the data stick into a port built into his chair and less than two seconds for the holographic screen to begin displaying the contents. Silently he listened to the group hailed as Earth's greatest protectors discuss various topics either to finally conclude the matter or to talk about new incidents that might require their intervention. He ignored all but the last topic, for that was what interested him the most. Ever since he spoke with the woman dying in that Californian hospital bed all those months ago, he had partitioned a portion of his time and resources towards a single objective.

Finding Alexander LaVelle Harris.

It had all started on a day that was like many that had come before, with him directing his agents throughout the world or conferring with his allies. Then quite unexpectedly one of the information gatherers had notified him that one of their hidden programs in the Los Angeles medical network had just flagged a DNA test. The program in question was meant to notify him if a person of interest to him was admitted to a hospital or had specific tests done at the relevant facilities. At the time he'd looked through his memories to try and determine who the program might be notifying him of but nothing could have prepared him for what he read in the report.

With all due speed he left his current residence and went to the hospital where the owner of the blood sample was dying of her injuries, while at the same time ordering a thorough investigation of the individual in question. By the time he arrived in California a preliminary report was ready for his review and his operatives promised even more information by the end of the day. He'd reviewed the information thoroughly and, like piecing together a puzzle, he connected it to what he thought he knew to turn it into what really happened.

There were gaps, of course, facts that were only available on hard copy, but he was confident that his agents would provide him with those soon enough.

By the time he'd arrived at the hospital he'd read enough to issue an order that a certain man be located, apprehended and then relocated to one of his more remote stronghold's. There a specialist would be waiting with strictest orders to practice his craft upon the man for as long as possible and to ensure that the recipient of his skills does not perish before his imagination failed him. Entering the hospital, he'd presented the forged identification that told the people who worked there that he was a relative of the woman dying in their care. It was then simple to gain admittance to her room and to examine the clipboard containing her current diagnosis and the treatments she was receiving. It was believed by the doctors that she would not live more than another month and that the only thing keeping her alive for that long was their machines and their medicines.

When his eyes fell upon her, he both recognized her immediately from his memories of the past and surprisingly enough felt pity for her.

From the report he had read, he knew that she had not lived an easy life and that, due to her amnesia, she fell victim to the worst sort of man. He knew that she had been a gruesome example of a woman whose husband saw her as nothing more than a servant to do with as he would. Assuming she still possessed even the instincts of her former self, he imagined she did what she could for her 'son' and the fact that his information indicated she visited him in the hospital supported it. All the while being beaten on a weekly basis due to the failings and anger of her 'husband' when it was quite unlikely she had anything to do with the cause of his anger. To endure such a life for as long as she did was something he could respect, though he would've preferred that she'd have found her inner strength early on and walked away from the piece of human garbage.

Seeing her in the hospital bed with bandages covering almost half her head, he'd known immediately the course of action he needed to take.

Being experienced in matters of medicine, it'd taken him no time at all to judge just the right amount of stimulant needed to rouse her from her slumber so that he could question her directly. Within a minute her eyes opened and he'd spotted the light of recognition immediately and theorized that the memories of her past servitude to him had been restored. Out of reflex thanks to the training she'd undergone as a child she'd tried to greet him as she'd been taught but he'd been quick to stop her. Such actions would have only hastened her passing and he could not permit that before gaining the information he sought. In the end she'd given him all she could and, as an act of mercy, he injected her with an undetectable poison that would kill her painlessly and in such a way that she would think she was merely falling asleep.

Better that she die peacefully knowing she'd served her master one final time than linger in the hospital, slowly being stripped of her dignity.

Since then he had been dedicating a sizeable portion of his time and resources to locating Alexander Harris but not so much that it might cause his allies or enemies to pay his actions any attention. It was a small challenge at first since the young man didn't touch his bank account or leave a paper trail, digital or otherwise, behind but that changed when in a burst of inspiration he'd asked his agents in the government if anyone 'New' had popped into the system. It hadn't taken long for Alexander Lensherr to be found, along with a picture of someone identical to Alexander Harris, and while he had encountered the odd doppleganger, he'd known the truth. His son, for reasons he could only speculate about, had paid someone to craft a false identity and, while he'd had little difficulty in discerning it to be fiction, it was of sufficient quality to keep all but the sharpest of minds from seeing the truth.

His subordinates were still tracing all the information on Alexander Lensherr but the details could wait until a later date.

For the moment he was more concerned with the plans of the Justice League regarding the young man. He was almost certain that Alexander was the one who'd committed the superhuman acts in Gotham and more recently in Salem. He found himself quite impressed with the power the young man possessed and the manner in which he used it. Oh, the signs of youth were there in all the flashiness and lack of discretion, but nevertheless for someone so new to them to be able to use them with any skill was impressive.

"Instruct our agents in the relevant departments to do all they can to hinder the Justice League's efforts to locate Alexander Lensherr without compromising their cover."

Apparently the young man either summoned or found a daughter of an upper level demon and had aided her in some matter requiring quite a bit of power on both their parts. Based on what he knew of the boy, he very much doubted that Alex had summoned the female demon himself, so it was likely that he simply came across her by chance. As for the power involved, it was possible that the teenager used what he had to close the portal the demon daughter came through in order to keep more infernal creatures from crossing over. Were they still together? Most likely they were. Young Harris wasn't the sort of person who'd let such a potentially dangerous being run off without first making sure she was no danger to the rest of the world. Would they stay together until he chose to present himself to the young man in person? Unlikely. If his suspicions about the brief superheroine Flamebird were accurate, then the wound from that loss would be too painful for him to remain with any young woman for very long. Far more likely that he will remain with her just long enough to convince himself she's not a threat and will not likely be one in the foreseeable future.

He, of course, would be using his own agents to monitor the area and keep track of the lady on the off chance that she could prove useful to him in the future.

Generally he didn't trust demons as they lacked the requisite traits that prodded most people into keeping up their end of the bargain or showing him the respect he deserved.

Nevertheless, an opportunity was an opportunity.

There was, after all, multiple types of trust one of which he could likely rely on with a daughter of Trigon, and as for respect… he'd simply have to make it clear what would happen to her if she didn't present him with some.

It seems the young man has a talent for encountering interesting women, he thought to himself as the recording of the meeting ended. I believe I would find it most interesting to see just how far this talent goes with him.

New Haven, Connecticut

Xander's Apartment, Three Weeks Later, Xander's POV

"I made sure the apartment's paid through for the next five months," he said as he finished packing the last of his things. "Same with the utilities."

He felt like shit at the moment.

Not because he'd gotten physically hurt or was sick or anything but rather he felt emotionally like shit at the moment. For the past three weeks he'd been teaching Raven what he could about the world she'd landed herself in from basic things that any five year old knows to some of the more recent things he'd picked up after his stay in Gotham City. After all, she'd known next to nothing about this dimension when she'd first set foot in it and it wouldn't feel right leaving her to fend for herself. However that he was helping her get decent footing in her new world he was getting closer to her and that was not something he wanted. After what happened with Bette… after her death… getting close to any woman was like acid being circulated through his body and every beat of his heart making it worse. He'd done his best to keep his heart out of his professional business with Raven, keep things strictly teacher-student, but after almost two decades of living by his heart it was like pitting a promising newbie against the world heavyweight champion.

The fact that she was pretty good looking might have had something to do with it too.

In the time since he'd begun helping her he'd gotten to know her better and, while some people might mistake her for being an ice woman, he didn't think it was natural. Every once and while he'd catch her showing a little emotion but then it almost looked as though she was ruthlessly suppressing that emotion while promising never to let it out again. Once and only once he asked her about it but all she'd tell him was that it was dangerous for her to 'feel' anything, regardless of whether it could be termed a good emotion or a bad one. She'd admitted to him that her control wasn't perfect and that if something significant enough happened she'd react emotionally, but she made it clear she would do everything in her power to keep her feelings under lock and key.

He never talked to her about this subject again because, even with a perfectly stoic face, he could tell that her self-imposed emotional handicap was a painful topic for her.

"Your decision to leave is somewhat… unexpected," Raven said with a bit of sadness leaking through before being cut off. "Is something wrong?"

"I just… I want to find a place that feels like home, ya know?" he asked in response to her question. "I've been from one end of this country to the other already and nothing is clicking like it would if I was coming home. Without that click I get restless and the longer I stay to try and force things, the worse I feel and you don't deserve to have my bad mood dumped in your lap."

It wasn't a COMPLETE lie but it wasn't the truth either.

"I understand," Raven said with a look of acceptance.

Man do I feel like a heel right now.

It didn't stop him from walking out the door with all the necessities and personal items he didn't want to leave behind, but it did make him feel like crap until about an hour out of New Haven on his motorcycle. He'd picked a destination at random that was a day's travel west because he figured that maybe it was time for him to pick a place with a little more sun to hang his hat. He'd already gone from California to Connecticut, so why not turn around and make it a full circle. Plus he'd be lying if he said that a part of him didn't miss the Californian weather, so all in all he saw it as a good choice one way or another. All told, assuming he didn't decide to stick around the next place the bus stopped at or the place after that, he'd arrive in California before the week was out.

From there… from there he'd get an apartment and see if he could set down roots there.

He'd maintain his training regime, of course, wherever he could find a quiet enough place to practice using his powers without attracting unwanted attention. He might have managed to slip the net in Gotham but, with the amount of power he put out helping Raven close the portal, there was no way in hell that the Justice League doesn't know something is up. The only bit of good luck though was the fact that they apparently hadn't clued in and figured out that it was him making with the electromagnetic light shows in Gotham and in Salem. If they did, he had little doubt the League would've already swarmed him by now and that was the last thing he wanted. If they found him, they'd connect him to Light's death they'd likely send him to jail regardless of the circumstances and, given the background story Raven had given him, it was fifty-fifty whether or not she'd join him. He'd spent enough time with her to be pretty sure she wasn't the 'conquer-or-destroy-the-human-race' type of half demon and she seemed to favor her human half more anyway. So until she started with the ritual sacrifices or destroyed a couple of city blocks, it was his position to give her the benefit of a doubt.

He somehow doubted the League would be willing to do the same.

Sure, they were seen as the world's greatest heroes, but then again cops were seen as enforcers of law and order but that didn't match what he'd seen with the S.P.D back home or in Gotham.

Looks could be deceiving was something he'd learned quickly.

In any case, maintaining a low profile was definitely a priority for the time being until such time as the League forgot about him.

He figured that'd take about two years at least.

Seeing the scenery streak by, he idly thought that it was oddly symbolic of his life lately when he took a moment to consider it. He was always on the move, never staying still for very long, never being able to find a place to stop and make his own. Still, every vehicle had a destination it reached eventually and so he had faith that someday he'd find a place he really could call home.

What else could he do?