Chapter Eleven
"Memory hurts, wherever you touch it."
They were in Las Vegas; it had been a little over four and a half weeks since M'gann's jailbreak and Psimon's death and Arley was itching for a new fight. It was, after all, why the four of them— five if you counted Wolf —had found themselves waiting in the wings of an East Los Vegas alleyway.
Both M'gann and Dubbilex had their sweatshirts hoods drawn up over their heads— not that she needed it, before leaving the sanctuary of their newly stolen van M'gann had shifted to look like her favorite seventies actress —the pair were closest to the end of the alleyway, while Arley and Superboy leaned against the wall adjacent to the rusted door they were all waiting outside of.
Arley , M'gann's voice echoed inside Arley's head. The Lantern twitched; it'd been several hours since the mind-link was formed and still something about having her mind— what was supposed to be an impenetrable fortress; the very thing that had kept her alive for years —splintered amongst three other people was still hard to swallow.
Yeah?
Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean we're just waiting out here. M'gann hadn't needed to say it— or even, really, think it —for Arley to understand what she meant; out in the openness of the alleyway the four of them were sitting ducks.
I know we are Megs. Arley breathed.
She shifted her weight. This was why Arley had wanted to come by herself; she had wanted to come all alone so that she could sit herself down at the poker table on the other side of the door and negotiate what she wanted but no one had wanted her to roll up to an unknown location with someone even Arley herself couldn't actually trust and while she got that— Arley would be damned before she let one of the others follow through with that same exact plan —this left their only other option.
Worry hummed through the mind-link; Arley bit the inside of her cheek as another minute ticked by and then a second and a third until, nearly twenty minutes later the heavy metal door was thrown open and a monster— a seven foot tall hell beast —stood in the doorway with a flailing man in his arms.
Whatthefuckwhatthefuck, raced through Arleys mind as the other three got a long hard look at the monster in front of them. Seven feet tall with olive green scales and horns too large to fit through the doorway unless the monster turned his head.
Blood splatter also littered the monster's body and while there was nothing that should have thrown Arley's three comrades, there was something unsettling about hellspawn that caused— no matter what you had seen in life beforehand —every hair on your body to be set on edge.
"And stay out you rat bastard!" The monster snarled as he tossed the blonde man out into the alleyway. The monster then looked at the four of them, it squared its shoulders and through the mind-link Arley felt everyone of Superboy's muscles tension, reading themselves for a fight. "And who might you be?"
"Nobody important, we were just waiting on him," Arley said evenly, jutting her chin out in the direction of the groaning man. He hadn't yet picked himself up off the ground; the world, without a doubt, was still spinning too much to actually get any sort of footing.
The beastly creature let out a scoff, "You're with him?"
"I did, literally just say that," Arley snarked. The creature's eyes narrowed.
"That means you can pay his tab then."
"No it doesn't," Arley responded, "And if you come out here and try to make me, one of those horns will end up in your chest while the other is so far up your ass everything you eat for next century will taste like carotene."
Arley! M'gann fretted, Should we really be picking fights?
The monster's shoulders rolled back and Superboys set themselves forward.
Please , Superboy scoffed mentally. The corner of his lips tipped upwards, It's Arley, when isn't she picking unnecessary fights?
Fuck off Supes, Arley rebuked.
"Mortals," The creature snarled, "Fuckin' the lot of you. Take his bastard ass out of my alleyway and tell him he either pays me by the end of the week in cash or flesh. I'm not particularly picky on how I get my due."
"I'm sure you're not," Arley responded. In reply the monster grunted before slamming the metal door behind him. Arley then moved forward and grabbed the back of the blonde man's trench coat and heaved him upwards.
The man's nose was broken and his eyebrow had been cut in whatever bar fight he had caused on the other side of the door.
"Hey Constantine," Arley greeted, "It's been a minute, hasn't it?"
The man— John Constantine; the Hellblazer —blinked slowly as he focused on Arleys face. The confusion rolling through him was easy to read.
"Do I know you?" Arley shrugged.
"We've met once before. Think of me as a twelve year old girl with pigtails and a Green Lantern uniform." John blinked again.
"What the hell are you doing alive? Last I heard—"
"—I was missing?"
"I mean the word on the block was dead, but yeah. General consensus was that you vanished."
"Got vanished you mean, I was held hostage for three years by some people you might know."
"Yeah?" Constantine jerked back from Arley's hold; she let him go and watched as he swayed on his feet before fishing out his pack of camel's. "And just who might I know?"
"Klarion. Lord of Chaos." Arley watched as John Constantine's face hardened at the name. The cigarette he'd taken out of the pack was promptly put back in.
"Why are you here Lantern, last I checked we were never mates. Nor was I ever mates with any of your old men."
"I'm going to kill Klarion."
"Forget it girly," John said, "You can't Kill a Lord of Chaos."
"Not like this I can't," Arley joked, motioning to the entirety of herself.
"I meant in general."
"Now come on, we both know that's not true," Arley responded. John looked away and down the length of the alleyway. "That's why I need your help."
"Do you even know what would happen if you killed a Lord of Chaos?" John asked.
"Is it world ending?"
"Probably not but it wouldn't be good," John responded sharply.
Superboy stepped up next to Arley before she could say something that would make the vein on the side of Constantine's head start to visibly throb; John's chin tipped upwards.
"Klarion is in league with Lex Luther, Vandal Savage, Queen Bee, Ras Al Ghul and a lot more bad guys for all we know. guys. They've been working on taking over the world for years."
"Then let the League know, they're all about that saving the day bull."
"We would if those four didn't have control of the League," Arley snapped. She watched as Constantine's face slacked at the mention of the League being under the Lights thumb. "Look whatever bad comes out of killing Klarion, it won't outweigh the good it'll do."
"Please," M'gann added softly. "We need your help Mr. Constantine."
John's tongue darted out and swept over his lips, slowly, "And you know the League's under their control? For a fact?"
"Three years ago when Savage captured me it was Klarion that used magic to take hold of Bats so that the League would stop looking for me. It's also what got my partner's off world and a rookie to take their place. John, after the last time we ended up working together would I really be here if you weren't the only option I had?"
Constantine sucked in a deep breath, he tipped his head back. The combative light in his eyes slowly began to dim and finally, he nodded.
"I can't promise you the helmet, you know it's not mine to give."
"All I'm asking for is help getting to and inside the tower." Arley could handle Kent Nelson on her own; she knew him— albeit not incredibly well but —well enough that she knew which buttons to press.
"Alright then," John agreed as he started down the alleyway, "The house is just this way."
And Arley— as M'gann and Superboy and Dubbilex all marveled at the musical house of mystery appearing out of nowhere in the Las Vegas skyline —couldn't help but let a smile, ghost over her lips.
…
Somehow Arley and John had ended up together alone in the house of mysteries' foyer. Orchid, the sentience of house had offered to show M'gann some magical artifacts once the Martian girl had looked like she no longer wanted to jump out of her skin and both Dubbilex and Superboy had followed after her dutifully.
Where she went they seemed to; not that it shocked Arley. M'gann, since really waking up after her breakout had taken to both the clone and genomorph not in a motherly way per say— since they had all sat down and spoken about what M'gann was to them she'd requested they not call her Mom or anything of the sorts —but in a way that reminded Arley of a fretful older sister.
It reminded Arley of Arisia and Laira.
Wolf, though, had stayed behind with Arley; the genetically modified dog had curled up on the rug by the fire.
"What happens if Nelson doesn't give over the helmet?" John asked with a flask in his hands and a still burning cigarette butt in the crystalline ashtray.
"You mean peacefully?" Arley quipped dryly. John shot her a severe sort of look that made Arleys slight smile drop and her eyebrows raise as she looked away from him.
"I'm serious Lantern," John snapped. Arley's gut churned at the title; she wasn't a Green Lantern anymore, not really. No matter how much she wished her ring still worked.
"Right," Arley muttered, "Since when did your wand get all knotted up Constantine?" Sure Arley had only worked with John once before but from what she could remember— and what she knew she had heard of him in the years that followed, prior to her capture —John Constantine had only one serious bone in his body.
Maybe two if that one was broken.
"Don't know love, what happened to the little girl that just wanted to do right by everyone she met?"
"I am doing right!" Arley snapped, "Just because what I'm doing isn't as pretty as what the Light's puppets do for the six o'clock new doesn't mean what I'm doing isn't right—right now it's the only right thing to do."
"Shooting an old man in the face and robbing him is right?"
"I'm not going to shoot Mr. Nelson!" Arley responded automatically, aghast at the very notion of doing so.
"Then what are you going to do Lantern, if the old geezer decides he doesn't want to give the helmet up?" Arley felt her tongue get heavy because her knee jerk response was Take it but the only way to do that would be to fight— to kill —Mr. Nelson.
And how could she do that when he had never been anything but kind to her?
Sure she didn't know him well but Arley knew him, Kent Nelson was an old friend of the first, original Flash. He was someone the Garrick's had over every time they hosted some kind of party and while he was never someone Arley attached herself too, he would also perform a magic trick, mystifying her and the other party goers.
One time he had made a quarter disappear behind her ear and Wally pulled a bouquet of flowers out from his back pocket.
"I don't—" Arley swallowed, "—I don't know." Her resolve hardened, "But I'll do whatever I need to!"
"So you'll kill him?" John asked, "You'd kill Nelson?"
"No!"
"But I thought you just said you'd do whatever you need to. If Nelson does not willingly hand over the helmet you're going to have to kill him for it-you know the only other way you'd be getting that thing is over his dead body, don't 'cha?"
Arley felt her heart twist beneath her ribcage because John was right. If she couldn't talk Kent Nelson into giving her the helmet then she'd have to take it by force and Kent Nelson would never just roll over and allow Arley to filcher the helmet from him.
But he wasn't like Shimmer or the Lights lab rats or Psimon. He wasn't evil or bad; if Kent Nelson didn't hand over the helmet he wouldn't be committing some great sin, he would be an old man who'd simply be guilty of being in her way.
And how could she kill him for that?
"I have to stop the Light. I can't just let them go Constantine, not after what they've done-what I know they're going to do," Arley said softly.
"And what are they going to do, love?" John asked just as softly, the edge in his voice was gone.
"Fuck if I know the details," Arley responded, her arms wrapped around herself as she turned to the fire; John stayed in her peripheral. "All I know is that Sportsmaster and Savage spent three years carving me up like a turkey, trying to get information on the Corps."
It'd only taken Arley a few weeks after her initial capture to figure out that whatever the Light was planning wasn't meant to stay on Earth; that their plan had an intergalactic angle to them. It was that knowledge— and her unyielding loyalty —had been what kept her strong for all those years.
Because maybe Arley wasn't a Green Lantern anymore, perhaps she was too damaged to ever be one again but ring or no ring— uniform or no —this was still Arley's sector and she would protect it with her life.
"Here." Arley turned away from the fire's warmth to see that John had extended his flask out towards her. "It's nothing fancy but it helps."
"With what?"
John snorted, "The pain. Memories? Everything in my experience really."
"What is it?" Arley asked somewhat suspiciously. Arley could remember being twelve and working with John that first time; it was easy to recall how unsettled her twelve year old had been at all of Constantine's underhanded tactics.
Back then she had never wanted to work with him again because for all the blood she had on her hands— back then —she had still wanted to do good. To be a hero.
She of course knew better now. Some people just deserve to be put down and others, the people that did that, would never be known as heroes but that didn't mean what they did wasn't right.
John let out an audible snicker.
"It's alcohol, love."
"Oh." Arley felt her cheeks up as she slowly took the flask from John. She turned the flask over in her hands once and then twice before handing it back to Constantine. "No thanks."
John's brows shot up, the blonde caterpillars disappearing somewhere amongst his hairline.
"No?"
"Drugs and alcohol, they lower your inhabitants and weaken your willpower." Lanterns weren't forbidden from drinking— after some missions all Arley ever saw her fellow Corpsmen do was drown their sorrows —but they were all highly discouraged as their rings never seemed to work right while under the influence.
"You're telling me that you intergalactic green beans are dry?"
Arley shrugged. "More or less."
"Bloody Fuckin' hell, no wonder you lot are a bunch of tight arse's, you don't bloody drink!"
Arley felt herself smirk as John brought the flask up to his lips, "I'm sure it's more than just that Constantine."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I mean the only reason you think we're right asses is because you only see us when we have to deal with you."
"Oh fuck off," John chuckled. His shoulders rolled back and though there was still an air of tension in the room Arley allowed herself to rock backwards onto her heels as she looked into the fire.
She wasn't Savage. She wouldn't just kill an innocent man. And yet Arley couldn't help but think of how there was a glaring difference between Kent Nelson and some storefront employee. She couldn't help but wonder, no matter how much she tried to will the thoughts away; how much of a hand had Klarion the Witch Boy had in Wally West's demise?
Because Arley knew, when it came to Wally, there were no lines in sand. No hard morals. Nothing she wasn't willing to do.
The saying after all wasNothing else in the world matters but you. It was, I would do anything for you.
Arley was not the same kind of monster Vandal Savage was but she was a monster all the same and when it came to her boys— to the love of her life, Wallace Rudolph West —she was the kind of monster that would eat the world raw and make it bloody in his name.
…
The Tower of Fate was in Salem, Massachusetts because of course it was. It was also hidden to the naked, non-magical eye.
Or at least that's what Constantine claimed when he spread his arms out wide before an empty Salem field announcing, "Here we go. The Tower of Fate!"
"But nothing's there," Superboy said slowly.
"Well of course you don't think anything's there, you can't see it."
"And you can?" Superboy resorted with a scoff.
"Course I can Baby Blue," Constantine winked, "I've got The Sight."
"The Sight?" M'gann cocked her head to the side.
"The Sight is just something that allows me to see what others can't. Nightmare demons, ghoulies and ghosts; you normal blokes can't even imagine what's out there."
"Wow," M'gann breathed.
Constantine's wolfish grin grew and Arley— as her heart hammered in her chest —watched from her peripheral as the Brit shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I've also got the magical touch, love, I'd be happy to show you if you're ever interested." Once again John threw a wink over his shoulder, though this time he also blew the Martian a kiss.
Both Dubbilex and Superboys' eyes narrowed in John's direction.
"Can we stay on task?" Arley snapped, "Please."
"Right," John's shoulders rolled back. His hands came out of his pockets and Arley watched as the blonde closed his eyes and began to move his hands in both clockwise and counterclockwise directions.
Slowly a bright golden symbol— a Zodiac circle with not just symbols Arley didn't recognize on the side but three smaller ones on the inside —appeared in the air. The wind picked up and Arley watched as only some of the grass of the empty lot moved with it.
There was something there.
"Aperire."
And thought Arley couldn't see it, a door flew open revealing the stone foyer of the Tower of Fate. On instinct Arleys hand flew to the small of her back; her posture didn't relax when Constantine took two steps forward.
He turned once he was in the mouth of the Towers doorway, "Arley you coming?"
Arley shifted her weight.
"Course," she said as she started forward, her hand no longer on the grip of her gun but instead curled at her sides. She could feel the others behind her; Dubbilex, M'gann and then Superboy. "Lead the way John."
Arley had never been to the Tower of Fate before. The few times she had Kent Nelson over the years predating her capture it had always been at the Garrick's home in Central City. And yet there was no sense of surprise or wonderment as the door shit behind the five of them because the Towers foyer looked exactly as Arley had imagined it.
Like the grand entrance of some old medieval castle; tapestries depicting magical events lost to time and coats of arms littered the entrances' walls of the Tower while suits of armor Arley could practically see breathing with life, waiting to come to life, stood idly by along the edges of the entrance.
"John?" Kent Nelson's voice rang out. Arley, along with the others— sans Constantine whose eyes hadn't even fluttered away from the blank spot in the wall he'd locked onto —looked around the room.
Kent Nelson— or not-Kent Nelson, as he was luminescent and translucent; more ghost-like than human —floated several inches above the first stair of the staircase to Arleys right.
"Kent, my man! Good you see you chap!" The not-Kent Nelsons eyes narrowed.
"What are you doing here John?" Kent asked again, his voice tight with annoyance.
"I asked him to bring me," Arley spoke up. She stepped up around John, her knuckles accidentally brushed against the hem of the British mans trench coat.
Not-Kent blinked at Arley. His chin tilted up. "So you're alive."
Arley felt the space between her brown's creased. Arley felt her stomach begin to knot itself up; anxiety clawed at her insides. "You don't sound surprised."
Had she made a misstep in coming? Should Arley have put Klarion on the back burner with Ra's Al Ghul? Had she damned them all?
"Why would I be? I knew you weren't dead-couldn't be. No one could find your soul when I went looking for it," not-Kent shrugged. "Doesn't explain why John's here though. Or why you're here with him kiddo."
"John's here because I asked for his help. And I'm here for the Helmet of Fate Mr. Nelson."
"Is that so?" Arley nodded firmly. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to use it to kill Klarion." Kent Nelson's translucent figure glided forward, only to stop when he was a hair's breadth away from Arley.
"Do you know what killing him will do to the order of the universe?"
"Nothing worse than allowing him to live. Mr. Nelson whatever Klarion is up to is universe ending. He's not playing tricks on the population anymore, he's trying to bring about some kind of world ending destruction that I know won't just stop at Earth!"
"You're sure of this?"
"Yes." Not-Kent rolled his shoulders back, his eyes narrowed as he looked down his nose at Arley and the former Lantern watched as his face fell, heavy and regretful.
"I'm sorry." Before Arley could argue not-Kent had disappeared.
"Where'd he go?" M'gann asked only before John could answer or Arley could let out a loud, long sounding swear in Kent Nelson's translucent wake, the floor opened up beneath them.
The lot of them let out shrieks as they began to plummet towards red hot, boiling lava. Arley made a grab for Superboy's hand while M'gann, who could fly, instinctively grabbed Dubbilex under the arms.
Dubbilex's horns glowed a bright red jerking both Arley and Superboy— and John —all to a stop.
Arley had fallen before; you couldn't learn to fly without falling. But this was different; her ring was dead and unlike when she was a child on Oa, Arley didn't have the means to save herself need be.
"John what the fuck!" Arley snapped, though Arley was more than several feet away from the boiling hot lava Kent Nelson had meant to end them in, she could still feel the heat from the molten hot rock.
"Why the bloody hell are you mad at me, Nelson's the bugger that sent us falling to our rooms!"
"Just get us out of here!"
"I thought you wanted the helmet though, love."
"I do!" Arley needed it. If she'd ever have any chance of ending Klarion she'd need the Helmet of Fate and the powers behind it.
"Then figure out a way out! I can only get us out of the Tower and if I do that—FUCK!" John shouted as they jerked lower. Arleys head snapped upwards to M'gann and Dubbilex, neither of whom looked okay.
M'gann had lost her transformation and had instead shifted back into her natural, white-Martian form. Dubbilex looked like he had pulled a double hernia.
"M'gann? Lex?" Superboy called out, worried. "What's wrong?"
"It's hot!" M'gann called back, her voice strained. Arleys head snapped back to John Constantine, her face hardened with resolve.
Arley didn't need John to finish his sentence, she knew hot to connect dots all on her own; Arley knew that John was going to say that this was their only shot at the helmet. Once they left the Tower they'd never be able to get back in.
"Can you get Megs and Lex out?"
"They're the only thing holding us up. Once they're gone we're toast."
"Arley," Superboy said softly. He looked upset; remorseful. Because for as much as they both wanted Klarion's hide Arley knew there was only one choice.
"Alright," Arley nodded, "Get us out of here John."
"But the hel—"
"—Dammit John I know!" Arley snapped back; "But I won't take down the Light at my peoples expense! Now get us out of here! Please!" The please was short and snappy and Arley knew the downward twist in her face was anything but pleasant looking but her desperation was clear.
She couldn't let anything happen to her people; not when they were all she had left. Not when she cared about them so much she was sure she'd break like never before if they left this plane of existence before her.
John blinked once, and then twice.
"Right," he muttered. Arley watched as John performed a series of different hand seals. A portal opened underneath the five of them and though Arley couldn't exactly tell where it led, she could see green carpeting.
"Drop us Megs!"
"But—"
"—It's too hot, come on!" And then they fell; towards the lava, through the portal and into a large dogpile; Superboy had turned so that he had landed on the floor, next to John Constantine. Arley was on top of Superboy but still, underneath both Dubbilex and M'gann.
"Are you guys okay?" Arley croaked.
"Yeah," M'gann responded softly, "Dubbilex?"
"I will be alright."
"Good," Arley said before tapping M'gaan's shoulder; the Martian girl rolled off the impromptu dogpile leaving Dubbilex to crawl off Arley and Arley, to not only push off Superboy's chest but to freeze. Not because of where John had transported them to— he'd dropped them all in the house of mystery —but because, sitting in the dark purple chair by the raging fire, was not only Kent Nelson but on the end table, next to the crystalline tumblr of whiskey, the Helmet of Fate.
Nelson looked ancient; and perhaps that was because he was. He was one hundred and ten after all so it shouldn't have been a surprise that his wrinkles and lines had grown deeper, his liver spots had grown darker and his head was even more sparse of hair than it had been three years ago.
And yet it was.
"Mr. Nelson," Arley said icily. Superboy's head snapped up, as did M'gann and Dubbilex, who's horns began to glow. Arley then looked to John, who'd since gotten up and moved towards the glass of whiskey that sat idly next to the Helmet of Fate, "What's going on here?"
"Please," Kent Nelson said, "Sit. I'll explain."
Slowly— cautiously — Arley got to her feet. She didn't pull her gun out from the waist of her pants as she moved from where she and the others had landed to the seat adjacent to Kent Nelson. Superboy, M'gann and Dubbilex all got to their own feet; the three of them hovered behind Arley.
"Where's the dog?" Arley asked suspiciously as she sat.
"Orchid is taking him out, I don't deal with dog piss," John shrugged. Arley sniffed at the Brit before she focused her sole attention on Kent Nelson.
Three years ago Kent Nelson would walk into a room, smiling brightly, laughing and being the life of the party as he performed magic trick after magic trick for the crowds amusement. The man in front of Arley though, looked like he could barely get up from the chair; least turn a flower into a rabbit and that into an elephant.
"What's going on here Mr. Nelson?"
"A test," Nelson answered, "The Helmet of Fate is no more mine to give than it is Johns' and I needed to make sure I wasn't making a mistake by giving it to you."
"You knew we were looking for it?"
"I got a message to him," John cut in, "Or well, Orchid did."
"Why?" Arley asked; "I'm not Woton or the Joker, you know me!"
"Do I?" Kent Nelson blinked. "You've been gone three years Arley—"
"—Being tortured!" Arley snapped; she got to her feet, "It wasn't like I was on vacation or left when the world needed me more out of fucking spite, I was captured and tortured!"
"Exactly!" Kent Nelson snapped. His eyes ablaze and shoulders rolled back. "It's why I needed to make sure that I should even introduce you to Nabu. You're damaged goods. I just needed to see how damaged."
Arley jerked back as if she'd physically been struck; she knew Kent Nelson was right— she'd never be whole again, she was the ghost of the girl she'd once been— and yet to hear it said so plainly hurt.
"Do you think," Sportsmaster had once asked, "That if you ever get out of here they'll still want you? There's lines girly, on how broken you can be before everyone has to recognize you're unsalvageable. You realize that right? That no matter what, here or there, no one will want you. So just make it easy on yourself, tell me what Savage wants to know and I'll end it quickly. You'll never have to face that kind of rejection."
"Watch your mouth!" Superboy snapped. He'd taken a step forward towards the seats. Nelson raised his hand in defense.
"I meant no ill will, Superboy?" Nelson's brow raised at Superboys name, "But like Arley said, she was captured and tortured for three years. You don't go through that and come out the same."
Superboy didn't look any what placated.
Arley simply looked at Nelson, her fists clenched at her sides. The light of the fire illuminated only one side of Nelson's face and darkened it on the other.
"I'm assuming I passed?" Arley asked tersely.
"With flying colors," Nelson replied, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I needed to make sure you weren't too far gone and without a second thought you chose them—" Nelson's head motioned to the others, "—Over your cause."
"Right," Arley breathed before rocking forward in the balls of her feet. She hadn't trusted Kent Nelson before arriving at the tower of Fate, per say but she'd had more faith in him walking in than she did at the moment. "So since I passed, you going to make this introduction, or what?"
"Of course," Nelson nodded. With a wave of his hand the Helmet of Fate began to glow and slowly it lifted off the side table. "Just take hold of it."
Arley looked at Superboy.
"I hate plan B."
"You say that every time."
"It wouldn't feel right." To Superboy, leaving her behind would be like her leaving him or Dubbilex or M'gann. Wrong on so many leaves.
Arley reached over and grabbed Superboys hand and squeezed; she smiled with her eyes more than anything.
"Then let's just hope this doesn't go wrong, huh Supes?"
Superboy squeezed her hand back.
"Right Ars." Arley's brows shot up at the nickname. Superboy had been trying to figure one out for weeks only to hate anything he'd come up with because it hadn't been right.
"It took a month to come up with that?" Superboy, with a suddenly dry expression, dropped Arleys hand causing the former Lantern to snicker as she turned away and back to the Helmet.
"Let's party," Arley muttered before reaching out to the Helmet. Her fingertips made contact with the warm, humming metal of the Helmet and then the world around her went bright and then, just as quickly, dark.
…
Arley found herself in a darkened room standing next to both Kent Nelson, who relied heavily on his cane, and John Constantine, who's hands had been shoved deep into his pockets.
Before them the Helmet of Fate with glowing eye holes was suspended in the air.
"Green Lantern," a deep, gravely voice— one Arley could only assume was the Helmet —sounded throughout the room. "Welcome."
"Where?" Arley asked, "I mean, thanks but where am I being welcomed to?"
"My shared consciousness," the Helmet responded.
"Nabu here, has shared his consciousness with everyone who has worn the Helmet of Fate in the past. This is where you go when you wear the Helmet," Kent Nelson explained.
"Oh." Arley looked around; John though piped up.
"Homey." Nelson rolled his eyes almost violently at John's antics.
"I've been told you look to kill the Lord of Chaos, Klarion."
"Yeah, I do. Along with the rest of his band of fucked up freaks."
"One of those people is Vandal Savage." There was no question, it was clear that Nabu knew Savage was at the top of Arleys hit-list and yet while there was no question there however was a waiver in Nabu's voice. One that caused Arley to step forward and away from Nelson and Constantine.
"You sound hesitant. John and Mr. Nelson have been warning me left and right about taking down Klarion—"
"—And you should be warned. To kill a Lord of Chaos is to throw the world into disarray!" Arley crossed her arms over her chest, "But," the Helmet contained. "Kent Nelson has told me of your argument and you are right, Lantern. There is a line between Chaos and blind destruction, one the Witch Boy has crossed a far too many a times."
"So what's the hang up with ripping Savage apart? Killing him won't throw off any mystic scales. Hell the universe will probably give me a fucking pat on the back!"
"I know," Nabu said with a sigh, "However, it is a long story, Lantern."
"Then start explaining, I've got the time."
The room around them changed. It was Atlantis; or it was what Atlantis had once been. Above ground and beautiful.
"Unlike the Chaos Lord's, the Lord's of Order rarely descended upon to Earth. Instead they would empower a human to act as their agent. The theory was that those human agents Earthly ties would allow for a greater understanding of the problems Chaos' and its agents caused amongst humankind. Though perhaps in truth the Lord's of Order simply didn't want to get their hands dirty with the kind of Chaos that littered our world." Nabu almost sounded resentful.
Arley saw a man wearing the same crown Aquaman— that Arthur Curry —wore, step out upon the dais that overlook the city from the castle.
He was handsome. Regal looking. Obviously the then and former King of Atlantis. Arley couldn't help but look closer and see if she could find any traces of Arthur Curry in the King only to pause her search when Nabu began to speak again.
"The first of their agents was him. Aryan. King of Atlantis, as you can see. But with Chaos' partnership with an immortal, the sinking of Atlantis and Aryans death—" Arley watched as Klarion and Aryan fought and the Atlantis that was, become the Atlantis she knew; sunken below the oceans waterline. "—All representing an escalation, the Lord's of Order stepped back so that they could reassess, the Lord's, in their reassessment began to observe the architect of all this Chaos."
The scene of Atlantis changed.
Arley didn't know whose marvelous buildings she was looking at, all she knew is that all her blood had left her face as Nabu continued on because as the Helmet's voice spoke and a man— "Varshot was soon to be known as Marduk, who would later be known by many, many other names." —stepped out into the light.
Vandal Savage.
Arleys breath caught in her throat. Savage was dressed like a King. He wore expensive robes and jewels upon jewels; and yet under the royal garb, he looked the same.
Arley jumped at the weight of a hand on her shoulder; she turned to see John Constantine with a concerned look on his face.
"It's not real."
"I know." And yet the fear and anger that rocked through Arley at the meat sight of the past-version of Vandal Savage was palpable.
"Seven thousand-five hundred and eighty six years after the fall of Atlantis came the rise of Babylonia. But ruling this new kingdom came with its own challenges. Marduk quickly became frustrated with his Babylonian generals and their pernicious independence of mind."
Vandal Savages' image got clearer as they got closer and Arley found herself planting her feet, trying not to remember the sound of her own screams.
Klarion stepped into frame; he wore time appropriate garb and yet at the sight of his bony, pasty white chest Arley couldn't help but wish the Witch Boy was in his usual tie and suit as that covered up so much more.
"Klarion arrived one day, without invitation but with what he claimed to be an offer to help. Marduk's son—" a man wearing what was clearly the Helmet of Fate stepped into frame, he turned to Savage and the two clearly began to argue, "—Argued fiercely against giving the Witch Boy free reign over the Kingdom."
There was a moment of silence.
"I argued fiercely."
Arley felt her blood chill and curdle. Constantine's fingers curled into Arley's shoulder almost painfully as her eyes flew upwards— accusingly —to the Helmet.
"You? You're his son?"
"Yes." It was heavy. It almost sounded like an apology.
"That's why you don't want me to kill him!" Arley screeched; she stayed forward out from under John's hold. "Savage is a monster! Your father is a murderer!"
"You do not think I don't know that!" Nabu shouted back, "I have had nearly four thousand years to understand that! My father, a man I respected, the king I venerated, he betrayed me! He destroyed my home—" Arley watched as Klarion summoned a familiar looking alien from space and unleashed it upon the Babylonian people. "—He killed me."
Arley watched as Starro put the Babylonian army under its control. She watched as Nabu fought his mindless kin only to meet his end the same way most other soldiers always do. Bloody and gasping for just one more breath of air.
"I know the monster my father is Lantern. I will not stop you from killing him, I know well that all things must die, that my father has lived far too long."
"But?"
"He is my father. Agent of Chaos he may be but the man that gave me life he also is."
And? Arley wanted to snap, She didn't care who's father Savage was or had once been, she would make him pay. Drag her hand through his chest and feel his still beating heart in her hand before she crushed it between her fingers.
Arley would have his head in her hands and make him pay. Not just for the three years of unimaginable torture but for Wally and Dick and Roy and Kaldur.
"I get it," Arley nodded.
"I don't think you do Lantern," Nabu replied. "It's why you will not be getting the helmet."
"Excuse me? You just said you wouldn't stop me—"
"—I won't!" Nabu cut Arley off in the same angry tone she had been using. The scenery changed; no longer was Nabu's mortal form bleeding at Arley's feet but instead she was in a teenage boys room.
He couldn't be older than sixteen; the walls of his room were green and there was a prayer rug rolled up leaning against the foot of his bed.
"His name is Khalid Nassour. You will deliver the Helmet to him."
"Excuse me?"
"If I may," Kent Nelson voiced. Arley turned away from the younger boy and looked to the elderly man. "As I'm sure you're aware, I haven't worn the Helmet of Fate in sometime."
Arley nodded.
"You have not worn it in sixty four years," Nabu chimed. Kent Nelson waved the Helmet off as he continued on.
"And in the meantime Chaos has managed to regain unchecked. Your quest to kill not only Klarion but Vandal Savage shows the world needs Doctor Fate again."
"So put the Helmet on."
"I'm nearly one hundred and ten kiddo," Kent Nelson chuckled, "I'm too old for the game. Far too old."
"But Khalid Nassour is not," Nabu voiced. "Khalid shows promise. His fate is to wear my Helmet."
"He doesn't even look old enough to be out of high school," Arley shot back. John's chin jerked up in agreement.
"He graduates soon," Kent Nelson said, "Besides, his parents are homo-magi, they would understand."
"I don't care if they would encourage this," Arley snapped, "He's a child!"
"He's hardly younger than you are now," Kent expressed; "And how old were you when you got that ring, Lantern?" Nabu questioned.
"That's not the point!" Arley snapped as she glared at both the Helmet and Kent; how old she had been when the ring had chosen her was completely different from Arley and the others showing up on some normal kid's doorstep and recruiting him for a war she wasn't sure just when would be over. "I'm not bringing some kid who looks like he saves puppies in his spare time, into a fight that has nothing to do with him."
"He is meant to be a hero."
"I don't give a shit! He is a child!" A civilian. An innocent! "I'm not going to bring some random guy in off the street to fight the Light just because you say so!"
"Then you will not get my Helmet, Lantern!" Nabu responded. "You will bring me to Khalid Nassour or you will find a new way to defeat Klarion!"
"Suck my dick asshole!" Arley snapped back, "I'm not ruining some kids' life because Vandal Savages' son said to!" Arley turned to John and Mr. Nelson. "Get me out of here."
"I can't let you leave until you agree Arley," Kent Nelson told her before John could speak. Betrayal flashed across Arley's face only to twist into anger.
"You're going to keep me here against my will?" Arley snapped, "I would ask if you heard what happened to the last guy that did that but I'm not sure if the Light is still digging the Guardian out from under the rubble, he was buried under fifty-two floors."
"Don't threaten me kid, not when you don't have power here."
"She might not, but I do," John said, stepping up next to Arley, his hands buried deep into his pockets.
"Stay out of this John," Kent Nelson snapped.
"Sorry mate, but you know how I feel about involving kids in this kind of bullshit." And then he pulled his hands out of his pockets.
Kent Nelson had raised his staff but before he could bring it down Arley lunged. She grabbed the outermost parts of Kent Nelson's staff only to be surprised when the century-plus year old man began to grapple with her.
"Bullocks!" John swore.
"Constantine!"
"I would not try so hard Hellblazer. You, like my other hosts who share my consciousness, have no real power. None of you do," Nabu rang out. "I am an immortal being Green Lantern and we are on my plane of existence; you do not want to play this game with me here. I can outwait you a thousand times over."
Arleys foot shot out and she twisted her body, prying the cane away from Kent Nelson. Kent Nelson fell to the ground in a heap of loose skin and gray hair.
"Is that so, asshole?" The space around them rumbled. "Right. So just like I told your price of shit father, will power is only breakable to those who don't have any!" Arley brought Kent Nelson's cane over her knee, snapping it. Splinters of wood went flying.
"No!"
"I'm not bringing your shiny gold ass anywhere but the battlefield!" Arley snapped one half of the cane again. The darkened area where John, Arley and Kent Nelson were began to rumble violently around them. "Some kid isn't going to be pulled into this bullshit because you say it's their fate-fuck that and fuck you!" Arley snapped the other half and the shaking around her began to get worse; liquid fire felt as if it were flooding her veins. "And you're not keeping me here! You stupid, sad, sack of shit!"
And then something Arley couldn't explain— it happened so quickly; the room was filled with such a bright light —had happened.
Green flooded the room.
A bright green light that reminded Arley of the main lantern battery on Oa overtook the room, flooding it with the kind of warmth that reminded Arley of an old friend's hug— the kind you got after not seeing them for years; the kind where they hugged you close and hard and you wondered if they might not let you go again —and knocking her back into consciousness.
…
Arley came back too in the foyer of the House of Mystery with a gasp. John, who'd been standing next to Kent Nelson nearly toppled over when his eyes snapped open and Kent Nelson, the magical fuck rocked forward in the House of Mystery's armchair as he came back to consciousness.
"Arley!" Three worried voices chorused.
"What the bloody fuck happened?"
Arley, somewhat disoriented but with the same anger thumping through her veins— and with the only thought in the forefront of her brain Getout! Got to Getout! Runrunrunrun! —she'd felt when Nabu told her he wouldn't be allowing her to leave, lunged forward in the direction of the Helmet of Fate.
"No!" Kent Nelson's movements were slow and sloppy and John falling to his right knee, getting in his way didn't help the one hundred and nine homo-magi from stopping Arley. If anything John did what he always did best and got in Kent Nelson's way.
"Sorry Kent."
"Move Johnny!" Kent Nelson began to rise to his feet.
"M'gann blackout, now!"
"Alright!" M'gann sounded panicked. Arley pressed the Helmet against her hammering chest and both Kent Nelson and John Constantine's eyes rolled to the back of their heads as they dropped forward. John onto the rug and Kent Nelson right next to him.
Arley didn't blink as she shoulder checked Orchid in passing; all she could think about as she led Superboy, M'gann, Wolf and Dubbilex through the front doors of the House of Mysteries and onto unfamiliar streets was that she had to run before she was captured.
All Arley could think about was that cell; her cell. And the sound of Sportsmasters laughter.
Notes: A few things! First off, please wish me luck, I take my LSAT (basically for all you non-American readers out there, the LSAT is the test you need to take in the US to get into law school). Second off, I hoped you liked this chapters special guest appearance(s). Personally I've always like Constantine and I thought since I was already looking to incorporate the Helmet and Kent Nelson why not throw everyone's l(least) favorite Brit into the chapter.
And lastly shout outs to lKingfisherl and OriginalDrumy for both your comments, they not only meant a lot and made me smile but brightened up my day anytime I've looked at than. (And in reply to what you asked OriginalDrumy no, I have a plan here and you really just have to trust the creative process!)
Anyway, let me know all your thoughts about this chapter in the comments down below!