Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League…
Raven: For once, she's not being crazy about not owning it….
A/N: I got the idea on how to order this fic from Artemis1088's fic 'Legacy'. Check it out, it's a good read. If you want to read the whole thing, though, you'll have to go to jlauniverse. READ IN ORDERJust be sure to put your reviews back on , ok? This is my take on 'Starcrossed'. Be advised: I have a very twisted imagination…
Shattering Eternal: Chapter One
Alone; she needed to be alone so that she could think. She needed to think because…she wasn't supposed to feel like this.
The towering trees laden with dark leaves loomed above her menacingly as they waved violently in the chill wind, and the short, stubby grass under her feet was slick with dew, left its signature in the form of a clammy, abrasive sensation that made its way even through the material of her boots; her gait over the fallen leaves prompted a thunderous cracking as they gave way to her weight's pressure that resonated throughout the near silence of the desolate area. She wished she had bought something to keep her warm, but her shivering was due as much to fear and unease as to the cold of the early atmosphere. Dark blues, hinted with reds and pinks, and fiery oranges escaped and broke through the thick layers of leaves clustered high above her head in an unfinished roof infrequently, the slender shafts a great contrast to the gaping black holes passing as shadows, swallowing the scarce light.
She needed to be alone, and here, she could be.
She didn't know how long she'd been walking, her head down, surveying the landscape; every foot matched every yard, matched every mile. Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice the sudden brilliance of her surroundings. The dismal flora no longer clouded the horizon before her. It was all merely a small dark cloud far in the distance, a solid wall of plant life, thick and tangible behind her and to the sides, forming an extensive boundary. The suddenly vegetation-barren space startled her not because of the sudden lack thereof the plants, but of what had replaced it.
In the center, a large sphere, metallic and glinting in the waxing light, took residence. Around it, numerous tents and other shelters were placed erratically. The entire camp cradled an ambiance of death, and no creature stirred near here, not even the curious squirrels which had followed, chattering along beside her earlier. She sank to her knees, the heavy dew accumulating and soaking through her pants, drenching them. It couldn't be…
The insignia carved into the dome….the same insignia that had held her pride and her deepest dread and loathing since the day she was conceived; the same thing she had run from, soon as her legs were willing, and then to find it here, in the midst of everything that had happened…
Her heart began to race. It couldn't be; not here, not when she had finally thought it safe.
Slowly, silently, a flap of a tent was pushed outward by a wrapped and bandaged hand, followed by a scarred arm linked to a tired body that supported a somnolent head, its dull eyes blinking sightlessly out against the dawn. Slowly, silently, the exhausted feet tread cautiously out of the tent, moving toward the cowering figure on the edge of the trees, large, withered wings limp, tiredly dragging on the ground. With on thin hand, it reach out and gently rested on the trembling woman's shoulder.
Her eyes widened in fear, she looked up at the haunting face, and her frenzied heart tried to beat its way out of her chest. Her lips parted, allowing a jet of warm air to billow out and condense in the cold, carrying with it one inaudible word.
"No…"
"Master Joshua, I will kindly ask you to back away from the valuables," the English accented voice called from somewhere down the hall from another room.
The boy's progress up the display case was halted as he quickly descended, landing by another who rolled his eyes.
Joshua smirked before turning his head in the direction of the immense oak doorway, and cupping his hands around his mouth, yelled back, "My name is Bryant!"
"Regardless of rather you would like to be called by your first name, your middle, or you last, I have told you before, and the rules have not changed: you have more games than you know what to do with, and I'd hardly consider what's in that case anywhere near similar to any of it. That is very expensive, and that is worth a considerable amount, both sentimentally and cash-wise." A young man had just strayed into the room, long, dark hair streaming behind him. He picked up the morose boy, and sat him on his shoulder. "But just between you and me, I gave you your name, and I would appreciate it if you would actually honor it, you know, just every once in while."
Bryant smiled. "Nightwing, you're –"
"No." The man suddenly stopped smiling. "…Don't ever call me that."
"Cue the comedian!" Wally exclaimed, red hair flying wildly about his still childlike face, and sauntered somewhat stiffly into the room. His laughing green eyes scouted the room quickly before he rolled them upward and slapped his head. "Oh, right, that would be me, right?"
"I'm going to go see if Alfred needs help," Dick muttered as he slipped Bryant off of his shoulders and swiftly brushed pass the others and out the door.
The older man stared sadly after Dick for a little while, worry lines deepening before smiling and turning to the boys. "OK, JB2, let's gather up the rest of the troops and get going, huh? Alfred promised to make strawberry shortcake for dessert tonight when we get back, how's that sound?"
Bryant and Brian yelled, almost knocking him over as they charged out of the room a good four feet above the ground. Wally hesitantly followed. He paused when a large crash and the enraged screech of girls reached his ears and stuck his head around the massive doorframe of the living room, peering in to asses the damage that had undoubtedly been done.
Nothing looked too bad.
Sighing, he turned to the girls as the boys gently floated to the floor. "Hey, girls, I'm going to take the boys to Zy'ghal, ok? We'll be back by dinner."
The two little girls who'd been glaring at Bryant and Brian both turned, one swinging raven locks, the other with strawberry-blond trestles streaming out behind her.
"Sure, Uncle Wally," the first and younger of the girls replied.
"Bye, Daddy," the older girl nodded, and then both returned to watching the TV.
"Ok boys, fall out!" Wally chuckled and rolled his eyes as the duo tore past him in a whirlwind. He turned around to find the remaining three boys, but was saved the trouble as they were already standing behind him. He stopped smiling as he met their eyes. Colton fidgeted slightly under his gaze.
"Joseph, Richard, you've been to the city before; you know what we expect of you while we're there. Adan, Joshua, Ishan…" He knelt before them. "I don't want any of you to leave my sight, under any circumstance. Everything you know, I want you to forget when we step outside of those gates. You no longer have any of the power you do. I don't want any adventures today. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
Colton bowed his head, his hands automatically finding their way to the pockets of his light blue hoodie.
"Things used to be easier," he whispered, raising his eyes to his father. "What happened?"
Wally stood, inhaling deeply and taking a slight step back as Richie and Brian traded glances over the top of Ishan and Colton's heads.
All four occupants of the room were sweating heavily. Seventeen hours, and counting, and Wally was sure he should have lost his resolve long ago, wasn't sure why he still stood steadfast.
Why had no one thought of this sooner? That there was a slightly larger chance that something could wrong? They'd had other things on their minds, admittedly, but… one of them should've been thinking of this moment, should have been considering that maybe things would go off just about as smoothly as everything else up to that point had.
The door opened, and Dick stumbled through it, his face pale and his teeth clenched as he let it close behind him. His eyes were dark as his feet carried him across the floor, toward the other end of the room, slowing as he glanced up to Tim, arms still folded over his chest, one foot tapping on the wall, head bowed, eyes rising to meet his own. Wally watched Shayera uneasily as her breath became shallower and she muttered something in Thanagarian that sounded suspiciously threatening to his manhood; Wally swept a hand through her hair reassuringly.
Dick resumed his place on the stool in front of Shy and began to give out orders again and Wally hesitantly but obediently stood from her side, moving away for a moment before beginning a haphazard parade around the room, feeling the need to do something other than stand in one place while doing nothing.
"Come on Shy, a few more," he coached as he swiftly jetted from one side to another, and then continued to traipse the rest of the room.
Dick glanced up from where he crouched before Shayera, an annoyed expression taking residence on his normally peaceful features. "Wally, if you want to be of help, stop pacing around the damn room and go keep an eye on the kids. You're giving me a fucking migraine headache!" Wally stopped his marathon over the white tiled floor.
"I promised John I'd stay by their side." He shook his head, walking to stand beside Shay; he offered her his hand, which she squeezed gratefully. Solemnly, his emerald eyes rose to meet Dick's.
He swallowed hard, shook his head again. "I don't plan on breaking that promise anytime soon."
"…Fine, but someone go get them; I don't want them to come in here," Dick muttered, turning back to his work as a very pale Tim, eyes wide, nodded his head vigorously and ran out of the room at speeds that matched Flash.
Shayera bit back a scream as pain wit renewed strength ripped through her, and Wally had to fight not to promptly drop her hand and faint. The color drained out of his face. He tightened his grip and climbed on the bed behind her. Still gripping her hands, Wally was fairly confident that her grip was nearly breaking every bone in his own hands.
Dick didn't say verbally ask a question, but his raised eyebrow spoke volumes to Wally, who had wrapped his arms comfortingly around Shayera and had her braced against his chest.
Flash glared back at him, and Dick had to admit he'd seldom seen Batman as angry. "I think I'm trying to keep her calm, and make sure both of them come out of this… alive." Dick's gaze faltered, but he refocused his attention.
"Come on, just one more, and it's all over. Come on: one, two, three, PUSH!" Dick and Shayera yelled simultaneously.
The yelling faded away.
"Why isn't he crying?" she asked, voice wavering, their accentuated breathing all that punctuated the reigning silence. Wally gazed down at her, his eyes heavily dark.
Shayera buried her head in his shoulder, and Wally felt the spot slowly moisten as he gently rubbed her back, still embracing her as much for himself as for her; he couldn't force him to watch as Dick handed the child to Alfred. Alfred walked toward the other side of the room, gently cradling the small, warm child protectively to his chest as Dick turned back to complete his work.
Miniscule, intricate wing buds were on the child's back; the tiny, damp, clustered downy feathers felt odd to him as he laid the baby down, gently began cleaning it as a flame trembled in his eyes. He closed the scissors in his hand quickly, placed them and the umbilical cord to the side in a bin, his hands still as steady and nimble and aware of what they were doing as ever. Alfred continued to hold the child as he quickly cleared its nose and mouth. The child's skin looked paler than it was as he gently washed away the blood and gray, revealing the soft red tint the child's skin carried for now.
It was too small for any of the clothing to fit properly as he laid the child down on the, and he left the soft, dark brown curls laid firmly to its head for the moment free as the cap would have probably been too large, too. The water bit his lithe hands as he disposed of the gloves and washed away the blood on himself, and he wrapped the child snuggly into the yellow receiving blanket lying tousled nearby.
He turned back to Shayera, cradling the bundle to his chest, smile as Dick glanced slowly over his shoulder to him, smile playing over his lips suddenly as he met Alfred's eyes. He looked up at Shayera. "How did you know it was a boy?"
"How can you smile?" Shayera queried, her voice shaking with rage now as much as sorrow. Wally found that he had to struggle greatly to restrain her, and he leaned down to try to speak to her, but he himself was close to laughing, found he couldn't operate his tongue. She looked at him in question, her eyes still quivering, still shining with unshed tears. Wally merely shook his head, gently pushed her head to face Alfred as he approached them again.
Dick quickly stood, coming around the opposite side of the bed and gently kissing her cheek, carefully not to touch her directly. "He's fine, Shayera; he's perfect."
"He's stubborn," Wally corrected. "Wonder where he gets it from…" Hiss chuckle grew as tears slowly slipped from his eyes and Alfred transferred the small boy from his arms to his mother's. His small, round eyes were closed, his nearly translucent lids heavily pulled over them with long eyelashes, the miniscule blue veins almost visible, his slender, tiny fingers gripping the blanket he was wrapped in tightly, the small, laughing mouth…
He was laughing; he was actually…laughing. His mouth was open and for the briefest moment, he gurgled almost inaudibly, his lips turning up so minutely at the corners.
"He's his father's son, huh? Crazed madman…" Wally held Shayera tighter.
The contagious smile finally took over Dick's face; he removed the gloves he wore and grabbed gratefully for the towel Alfred offered him. His hands were cool, still, as he gently brushed a fingertip over his slightly color touched cheeks, but the boy's smile grew. Dick couldn't stop his own smile from becoming larger, either. "Laughing: not as traditional as crying, but I don't know…might just make him a happier person...."
"It is the way of the house to never have a … dare I say, normal, entrance," Alfred chuckled. "I do believe Master Joshua had a similar experience…?" His gaze fell to Dick, whose smile faltered only slightly as one of his hands clinched tightly. Alfred rested a hand on his shoulder. "You've done it again, Master Richard. Well done."
Dick shook his head. "This one was all Shayera."
Shayera kissed the boy's head, held him to her as if he would suddenly be taken away, and Wally squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as he sadly met her eyes. No one spoke for a few moments.
Wally finally broke the silence, chokingly clearing his throat. "John said to….to give him this." His fingers found their way into his shirt neck, and retrieved a necklace with a green ring dangling on it. Fingers fumbling, he slid the necklace over his head, undid it, and removed the ring; he handed it to Shayera.
She felt the boy stir and looked down, directly into his bright green eyes, his fingers reaching outward as they brushed her hand, brushed the ring.
"You know," she whispered, lowering her head so that her check brushed the top of his head, "your father? He was a good man. He loves you, I don't want you to ever forget that. Not even when you're older, and even though you never got to meet him…know that he was kind, that his love for us is great; and always keep that close to your heart, ok?" She gently kissed him again, and let his tiny hand grip the ring tightly.
"This is yours; only once you're older, though," she chuckled.
"You should be proud of him, Little Man," Wally whispered, lowering his head next to Shayera's. "And don't mind your mom; it's just hormones." Wally grinned wickedly as Shayera shot him a reproachful glance that was strongly countered by her smile.
"He'll always be proud of you," she continued. "For forever and a day…Johnathan Ishan Stewart."
His lids slid closed again, he breathed deeply and Wally hugged Shayera tightly again.