Disclaimer: Yeah, well, I own the computer, so just get over it…what? I don't even own that?!?!?!
A/N: Yes, 'Water Runs Dry' chapter 7 is up and running. The previous chapter is to show you where each part of the story stand so that it won't get too confusing; from now on the, chapters will be much longer. Stick with me, even if you get a little bit confuzzled (my friend's word, not mine). Sit tight, buckle your seatbelts, and get ready to take a high-speed ride through the mind of one twisted individual! YEAH!!!!
Ishan: You might have wanted to add 'pray for your sanity'.
Shattering Eternal: Chapter Two
"…Shayera?" the hoarse voice whispered, and she felt her knees buckle. Why did this have to happen now? What could she do? She hadn't thought that he'd be here. She hadn't thought she'd see him again at all… at least, not this soon;… she'd forgotten it would eventually happen. She couldn't see very far from her place where she'd been standing moments before at the entrance; the ominous gloom was broken only by the faint glow of numerous primitive lamps, set strategically in the interior. The shadows on the sides danced wildly, creating great looming figures, intimidating in their own right. Moving farther into the darkness, she kneeled beside him, and flinched when his hand reached out and gently rested on her own, still shaking badly.
She watched the face, though barely visible, wince in two different pains; the first from her flinch, the second from the first.
She could hear the fatigue in his voice, the wind blowing over dead leaves, as he began speaking again. "Shayera…what have they done to you?"
Her mind yelled that all they had done to her was show her how amazingly stupid the whole thing was, given her the building blocks upon which she'd built her desire for all of it to end, but her trembling voice disobeyed.
"What happened?" She heard herself asking the question, but she wasn't the one who asked it, her voice shaking with unauthorized concern, her body shaking with sheer horror.
His chest heaved heavily, as if it were trying to lift a load too heavy for it to carry, the stars that weaved their way over the pale skin stretching.
Hawkgirl stiffened but didn't turn as she had dropped her mask at her feet in surprise. The girl had apparently been trying not to breathe, but she'd shuddered, sniffing as she shakily drew in breath.
She spoke gently to the girl, in her own tongue, and the girl became rigid, nodded her head limply, eyes wide in fear and anguish. She disappeared back through the make-shift entrance of the crude 'room'.
How long had they been out here before she wonder upon them for him to be this bad? If he was like this…she couldn't even begin to imagine what state whatever others there were were in…Hawkgirl scooped up her mask from the ground near the thick gray mat and slipped it on, eyes firmly shut. She opened them when her chin was gripped loosely by a rough, but fragile hand.
"You came back….to me?" he asked, eyes closed, chest heaving with effort to breathe. His lips were parched, and it seemed to cause him pain to part them and allow his strained vocal cords to emit barely coherent phrases.
"Lieutenant?" Hawkgirl nearly jumped at the small voice, whatever trail of thought she'd had in response dropped indefinitely.
"May I…?" She hesitantly presented the jewel embroidered, red clay bowl, its dark contents sliding over itself almost inaudibly
Hawkgirl moved deftly to the side to allow the small girl to kneel down beside him. She gently eased the upper part of his body up and supported him with her left arm clumsily. The girl held the spoon in her right hand and attempted to slide the steaming, sticky substance into his mouth, wincing when the scolding liquid spilled a little on herself. The man coughed and sputtered as it slipped down his parched throat. She repeated the process, spilling less this time, and then gently rested his head back on the dark gray mat again.
"Who are you?" Hawkgirl's voice made the girl jump.
The girl bowed her head and matted, unwashed midnight locks tumbled over her thin face. "….Herin would have my wings if he found out about my behavior, not introducing myself to such a figure as yourself. I am H'ryah."
"You are a child."
H'ryah shook her head before looking back up and sweeping the hair out of her face so that she could gaze at Shayera with her storm gray eyes, haunt with weakness. "Herin would not believe I am behaving with such silliness in the presence of one such as yourself; if –when we get back –he shall tell our fa –" she suddenly stopped and her grew wide as she backed up, as if she's said something she shouldn't have. She cast a hurried glance to now unconscious Katar before beckoning Hawkgirl farther into the nearly empty tent and away from his sleeping form.
She led her back from the room and out of the tent, pausing only briefly, not in search of her way but for other life before guiding her through the tents that lay around the one they'd just emerged from. She pushed through the opening of one, quickly racing pass those lying prone on identical mats in neat rows for what appeared to be the back of the tent, but revealed another section.
A boy glanced up, fire leaping in his eyes as H'ryah appeared, and he moved to rise, wincing, and keeping his support on his right side. He froze as Hawkgirl came into view. The little color in his cheeks drained as his haunting eyes widened. The stiff air suddenly seemed unable to reach his lungs as he grasped for more breath more often, feeling his stomach flip and his supporting arm shudder. H'ryah ran to his side as he nearly toppled over, whispering silently to him, her eyes trained on him, his eyes trained on Hawkgirl. H'ryah seemed to be chastising the boy as she brought attention to the deep green tunic he wore, the gold trim and velvety material dry, but stained with blood that clustered an area from above his hip to the point where his wings connected with the skin on his back on his left.
He hissed at her, his wings lowering even as he cringed and averted his eyes from Hawkgirl's face. H'ryah halting mimicked his behavior.
Hawkgirl stared at the two of them for a moment.
The boy swallowed hard as H'ryah's eyes moved upward briefly to gauze Hawkgirl's expression.
"Would you two Bat-demon spawn stop it already?!?" Tim asked exhaustedly as Bryant and Brian continued their squabbling as they all walked along the sidewalk. Ishan held his hands behind his back and kept his wings as small as possible, as if he were trying to hide them as his bright green eyes roamed their surroundings, Colton fidgeting at his side. Richie was talking quietly with Dick, matching every step.
They'd long ago stumbled from the clove of trees concealing the manor set high behind them, and found themselves skirting the edge of a park. The young boys, clothed in uniform weightless, gold material that resembled shorts or pants, sat unmoving on the slightly raised platforms in the park's lawn, the young girls with them though bearing silky white, sleeve-less shirts. Thanagarians, like the majority of the children, their hair snow white and hanging pass their shoulder to almost tangle up in their thick beards, walked among the little rows, mumbling in their native tongue as birds chirped overhead.
Ishan pulled at the neck of his hoodie and stiffly moved his wings as he wiped sweat from his face.
"You'll be glad of it when we get to Zy'ghal," Drake informed the boys suddenly as they turned a corner, the park suddenly falling away from them and the large, towering guarded golden gates in the barrier around the city rose before them.
Passing through them, suddenly, the temperature began to steadily decrease, and Colton shivered at an accelerated speed, trying to warm up.
"Do you have any idea how irritating that is?" questioned Richie as Colton stopped and pulled his hood over his head. He was answered with a blue-eyed glare. Richie himself was beginning to shiver, and Bryant and Brian had given up arguing to focus on keeping themselves as warm as possible.
Ishan moved closer to Wally, and by then, the boys had trapped themselves between the adults and were shivering together in the increasingly cooling atmosphere. The sky seemed to grow darker as they kept going, and Colton was starting to get jumpy.
"Don't worry; we won't be here long, guys," Wally promised as he scooped up Ishan again. Houses of the same mute, non-distinct color were arranged in elaborate patterns, held off to themselves and separated from similar systems by unpainted wooden fences that reach to Wally's torso. Across from them, lush green swept out from them like the ocean from the sand. Voices whispered through the air as a silent excitement charged the atmosphere around them. There were a few shouts, and children –unlike before, mostly human– spilled from the lawn. Bryant stiffened as a young girl swept pass him; she turned briefly, bright blue eyes catching his for only a moment. She turned from him and continued, a boy dragging her away by the hand. The sea of children swept around Bryant until he was tugged swiftly. He looked around and into Brian's worried gaze.
"What did you see?" He seemed nervous.
Bryant shook his head and trudged up behind Tim.
Cars swept pass them as they walked on, finding themselves under the cover of trees for what seemed like an eternity before emerging. The people surged through through the streets and along the large stone squares large enough to hold a few wings of the manor lined up beside the street and before the shop fronts. The images of the Elders graced the center of each, the black stone statues resting upon fountains that spat forth a dark blue liquid, assorted tables and benches radiating from them.
Colton stuck his hand under a sprouting fountain and stared at it in wonder. He turned as a boy about his age tore himself from his brother's grasp and placed himself at his side.
"Kiyaght!" he exclaimed happily, dipping his hands into the water and gulping the liquid he'd gathered into it. He smiled to Colton at his side and repeated blissfully, "Cold! And so sweet!"
"What is it?" he questioned.
"Water," the boy shrugged, his wings folding in on themselves as he leaned over the edge of the fountain. He grinned. "Dare ya." Colton didn't need an elaboration; he clambered up beside him, hesitantly glancing to Ishan, still riding in his father's arms.
The boy leaned over, reaching for the sparrow that had landed on the head of the stone mace the statue leaned against. His eyes widened and he lost his balance and nearly toppled in. Colton blinked, and the boy was standing on the ground. His brother was already grabbing him in anger and dragging him away.
"Adan…" Wally began, his face beginning to match the color of his hair as he glared at his son. He was in trouble; nobody, and nobody, called him 'Adan'. He scrambled down quickly.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with you. You should know better. It's not safe for you, not even here. Especially not here."
"Then why even bring me?" Colton hissed icily at Wally.
"They're parents are the Thanagarians." Wally frowned. "Don't you get that?"
"So they're responsible for their parent's actions? They're to be blamed for the things their parents did?"
"I never said that –"
"But that's what you're implying!" Colton's face was beginning to match his father's. "The way you talk, you make it seem like they're bloodthirsty demons. Maybe I've got a crush on a Thanagarian girl. What are you going to do about it?"
"First off, no worries about any girls until you're at least thirty, so I've got plenty of time to prepare for those nightmares," Wally muttered as he held his head. "…I merely ask that you not make yourself known to them, or vice-versa."
"You might as well tell me to stay away from Ishan. His mom's Thanagarian, too!"
"That's different," Wally mumbled, barely audible.
"How?"
Colton, breathing hard, watched his father in silence before stomping pass him and Tim, who was approaching and looked troubled. Colton planted himself between Ishan and Bryant's on the curb, crossing his arms in anger and staring hard at the street.
"…what happened?" Tim questioned as Wally finally registered he was still breathing.
"I don't want to talk about it right now…" he trailed off, the limp in his leg seeming accented as he disappeared into the dark store. The windows facing the street were filthy, making impossible to distinguish anything inside, and the poor lighting that barely illuminated the interior wasn't helping with the vision problem.
Tim glanced between the boys and the shop; he and Dick both had warned them at least three times to stay there and not to go looking for trouble.
He swept into the store, still frowning.
The only problem was, trouble always found them.
"Must you be so difficult?" Shayera asked the boy as she gathered him into an oversized towel that swallowed him whole. He simply looked at her with his too adorable, emerald green eyes, then opened his mouth into a wide grin as if he either didn't understand a word that was coming out of her mouth, or he did, and couldn't care more about her concerns on him being 'difficult'; he verified the latter theory by taking the advantage of his close proximity to the water. Using one tubby hand, he grabbed as much water as he could manage to keep from slipping through his chubby fingers and splashed it all over both his and her face.
"I give up!" she laughed as she hugged him to her and carried him out of the bathroom and to his crib in his room before wiping both their faces free of the dripping water.
Setting him in his bed, she turned to grab the lotion; she about-faced and moaned playfully as the boy continued to beam after having successfully kicked away the towel he was wrapped in. Rolling her eyes, Shayera rubbed her hands together, the lotion rolling between them before she tackled the chore of getting it on the squirming child. She started with his stomach, which only tickled him to no end and caused him to try to wiggle away from her hands. She turned him over and began on his back, but he kicked his now slippery, lotion covered legs and tried to crawl away, beating the growing wings on his back to help with his attempt, though to no avail.
"Honestly…" Shy turned him over again and retreated temporarily to get a diaper. "You better be glad you're so damn cute." The baby squinted and smiled again as he grabbed his feet as if to say 'And don't you ever forget it'.
Shayera turned, unsurprised at the gaggle of toddlers now surrounding the crib.
"Would you like to help me get this little beast dressed again today?" she smiled.
"All the girls gots to turn around, though" Bryant smirked as he looked around at Chris and Raven on the other side of the crib and narrowed his dark eyes.
"He is our cousin, too, you know," Chris muttered as she closed her green eyes and turned her head, causing her strawberry blond pigtails to be thrown around and land on her shoulders.
Raven was too concerned with keeping her small form on the edge of the crib to worry about what Bryant was saying.
"You, too, Raven," Bryant insisted, and Raven looked up, her mouth still on the railing. She let go of it and gazed at him for a moment, then titled her head to one side. "Close your eyes!" he said again and this time he demonstrated so that there was absolutely no question of what he meant.
"Leave her alone; she's only two," Richard pushed him slightly and Bryant almost fell to the floor. Regaining his footing, he frowned and stuck out his blue-dyed tongue; more than sufficient evidence of the Popsicle he wasn't supposed to have.
"Just because she's your sister doesn't mean she can be excused; she's still a girl," Bryant argued as he poked at the Michelangelo on Richie's shirt.
"So?" Richie asked, poking the Spiderman figure on Bryant's.
"So, I'd like to diaper my son before he needs another bath," Shayera broke in, effectively bringing the arguing to a close.
"But you got to close your eyes, too, Aunt Shy!" Bryant yelped as he finally lost his balance and landed hard on his rump. "You're a girl, too," he mumbled as he rubbed his sore behind.
"I'm also his mother and the only person in this room capable of putting on a diaper," she reminded the fallen child as she helped him back up to his precarious place standing beside Richie. "So, unless you think I can do this blindfolded, I think I'm going to have to keep my eyes open, right?" she suggested as pulled up the boy's legs and placed the diaper under his bottom.
"…I guess," Bryant shrugged finally as Shayera handed Colton the powder.
"Just don't go –" Shayera's warning was interrupted as the-fastest-toddler-alive gave the bottle a good shake and was rewarded with a large, white, powdery, fog-like cloud that caused temporary blindness before it finally settled in the now completely white crib.
"–overboard." She wiped the powder from her eyes and laughed. The toddlers blinked momentarily, their hair now the same identical shade of white. "I guess my work here is done." She handed Chris and Colton his t-shirt which they pulled over his head, careful of the still small wings on his back. They helped Bryant haul him from the tangled mess of white bathed blue sheets; Raven tried to maneuver Ishan's kicking legs into the over-alls Brian held.
Richie reached into the crib again, and the boy reached out his own hand to the familiar, nonchalant boy; he and Brian pulled him carefully out of the crib and into Richie's, arms who fell to the rug in the center of the bedroom floor. He held up Ishan so that he was in a standing position and could rest his weight on his legs while still being supported by Richie, but Ishan didn't seem in favor of this plan, and with a gum filled grin, he pulled his legs up and locked them under himself. Bryant laughed as Richie tried to get Ishan to stand up, but the baby merely shook his head and continued to refuse Richie's pleading.
"Just put him in his walker, Richie," Shayera smiled as her son was lifted into his walker by his over exuberant 'cousins', clapping his hands. Ishan eagerly spun the toys on the walker tray as his face lit-up and he laughed.
"I'm going to go clean up the bathroom; stay where Wally can keep an eye on you, ok?" she instructed as she turned around and began walking away from the room. Brian and Richie began to push Ishan out after her.
"What is this?" Chris asked suddenly, and all eyes turned to her.
Ishan reached out his hands to grab the slip of paper, being the curious eight-month old his was, and was handed the picture without a fight.
"Let me see –"
"Dada!" Ishan screamed as he bounced in his walker, cutting off his mother.
"What?" Richie frowned and looked back at Shayera to see a similar expression on her face. He slowly walked from the back of the walker to the side to see the paper Ishan was cooperatively holding still. "What's he –" he stopped, glancing up at Shayera with wide eyes, frozen.
Shayera gently pulled Ishan into her arms even as Brian and Colton gave each other a puzzled look and Raven craned to observe what was suddenly Forbidden, with a capital 'f'.
"….where…" Shayera began, delicately removing the picture of the League from his chubby fingers.
They were gathered in the common room; Wally was whooping about something animatedly in front of the TV, controller still in hand even as Hawkgirl threatened him with her mace and Clark was diving for a game console that was close to hitting the floor. Bruce was still intent over a device he held over the coffee table about to be tipped over, and Diana stood furiously with the ice cream that hadn't landed with the bowl on Bruce's head covering her bustier. J'onn was on the floor beside her, carefully picking up broken Oreo fragments.
Familiar tears stabbed Shayera's eyes; memories of the way they once were, happy, content, still brought tears, but that wasn't why she cried now. Not the complete reason, anyway.
"Dada," Ishan repeated with less enthusiasm, almost sadly as his fingers brushed over the still image of John's unbelieving, laughing face.
Herin, H'ryah, and Shayera sat in silence as Shayera cleaned Herin's wound and he strained not to wince as she touched him; accepting help still wasn't exactly something at the top of his 'favorable things' list.
"I was supposed to be killed." H'ryah shrugged.
"We're going back home, soon," Herin quickly began, flinching slightly as he sat straighter. "There were… complications in the schedule." Herin frowned as the word rolled on his tongue. "We're going home because the Lords fear that the completion of the soldiers' job has been compromised by the slight problem we ran into."
"It was father," H'ryah whispered, breaking the silence. Herin quickly shot her a look that clearly said she should close her mouth. H'ryah dropped the thin, stark white gauze strips she'd been wrapping, stared back at him evenly, but spoke to Hawkgirl.
"Our father has great influence in high places. Mother died when we were born. I was supposed to be killed. Herin was weak, but I was weaker. Father said we would both live, and that was the end of it."
"He wasn't supposed to do that," Herin added roughly, emphasizing each word as his voice slowly rose in volume. "He's only one; he isn't supposed to authorize anything without consent from the others. Nobody can know that H'ryah is alive; not yet." He paused and stared to his side at Hawkgirl. "She's still a child; they can still kill her without questions. They can't know; no one can know."
"They have no idea you have a sister?"
"They have no idea I have a twin." Herin's glare hardened. "Lieutenant Hol… our father should have been killed. The decision he made should have been considered a betrayal to the good of our world. …why didn't they simply kill him? The Lords have killed before, what would a man and two more children be? Much less one? The Commander… they raised him. They raised every important member of our world with authority only second to their own under their own guidance and molded them into what they are today. Why didn't they?"
"The world you know now wasn't always Thanagar. We have been at war forever, true, but we as a people didn't center our life so firmly around our fighting. There was a time when real feelings, other than anger –love …passion –were what drove us, the promise of being able to return to a welcoming embrace was what we fought for, not the taste of blood on our lips. The feeling of drawing another's life from their body with your own hands wasn't tasteful; it was duty." Hawkgirl stopped, her eyes narrowing slightly, her gaze lowering; she finally pulled the tattered, dark green shirt back down over Herin's chest. His breathing had thinned.
"The Lords were rebelled against by the very things their hands had helped create. Not all of them, of course, but more than enough." Hawkgirl's tone grew gravelly. "They decided the old ways weren't working; our blood was still being lost, and we were no closer to an end. They tried to pull them apart, strip them down until there was nothing left, but…they forgot that everything they were was what the Lords had shaped. They were disposed of, but their wishes became a wildfire and spread…" Her tone grew harder, melancholy distaste lacing each syllable side by side with regret, empathy. "The Lords suddenly had blood unlike any other on their hands, and in their fury at what they'd allowed to happen, had developed with such careful precision without even realizing it, they fell to the idea that things needed to change."
Herin's jaw tightened, as did a fist at his side, but he remained silent, and Hawkgirl seemed to have failed to notice the sudden change in his behavior. She signaled he could stand.
Hesitantly, he did so, assuming the conversation was over. Herin made his way to the wall of the enclosure that stood between them and the outside. He slowly pushed back the non-distinct colored material and hesitantly stepped outside. H'ryah followed haltingly.
Hawkgirl pushed aside the rough partition once they disappeared to the other side. Herin and H'ryah were statues as they stood, gazing up at the stars, arms crossed. H'ryah's wings fell over both her and her brother's shoulders as she leaned on him. He didn't flinch even as she brushed against the sore and tattered feathers of his wing, grabbing her hand in his own and squeezing it reassuringly.
Hawkgirl looked back down the small hill instead of casting her gaze upward with them. She shouldn't have been surprised at how extensive the make-shift camp was, the astonishing fleet of soldiers and fledglings there were; she had almost single-handedly nursed all of them gradually back into health in the past two months, after all, but the vast sea that was the camp still overwhelmed her with its abundancy.
"Do you think…" Herin faltered, drawing his breath and catching his lower lip briefly with his teeth. "Our father told us that mother used to say 'every single star is a planet; some are tiny, some are large, some are the same size as our own, but each is significant in its own way, and special all the same; Thanagar is special, and don't we live on one that has much to live for'. …Do you think that it's true?"
"I've heard similar things," Hawkgirl cautiously replied. "But never when I was on Thanagar; I never had the time or the chance to gaze at stars. You're lucky that you had a father and a mother who appreciated such things, even more so that they believed it enough to pass it on and share it with you. So much has been lost in your time that we once took for granted…"
H'ryah nodded in understanding to Hawkgirl's answer. "If it's true…do you think that maybe one of those is Thanagar?"
"I've…often looked up at the stars, more recently, and wondered that myself…" Hawkgirl gazed up. "But…it's funny; I haven't felt pulled to it…not like I used to, and even when I was younger, I always felt like maybe there was something else pulling me away, and it was much stronger than any hold Thanagar could possibly hope to ever have on me." She sighed heavily. "And now, I've told you too much and you'll surely be in trouble."
"You could get in trouble for knowing what we are, too; I don't see you trembling in your armor."
"Why should we?" agreed Herin.
"I think we should go in; it's possible for you to become sick as the environment of Earth is so much different than Thanagar."
"Yeah," Herin nodded as the three retreated back to the tent and he held it open so that they could enter. "It's much colder here."
"In more ways than one, believe me," Hawkgirl smiled. H'ryah continued to stand as Herin soon joined them and sat with little difficulty on the mat.
H'ryah moved toward the exit.
"I have much to attend to," she explained as she began to walk out, but she suddenly stopped and turned so that she could see Shayera."Lieutenant Hol," H'ryah began suddenly. "You told us that not long ago, love was what drove Thanagar and her people and their lives. But things changed, and… for us, every piece of individualism and feeling has been all but wiped out; at least, on a recognizable and meaningful level. You say things were better, then; not great, but better than now. Did you ever have those feelings? I mean… did you ever actually love someone? Someone who you would have never thought would mean anything to you? That you hardly knew enough about to believe that it was…love…but you knew there was absolutely no other explanation, as illogical as the one warranted seemed?"
Shayera smiled as she let her emerald eyes meet the storm-ridden sky H'ryah's eyes reflected.
"Yes; and there is nothing better than finding it in someone who loves you back."
Bryant's jaw tightened. "I'm bored!"
"What's taking them so long?" muttered Colton. He rested his arms on his knees and lowered his head, searching with his sky-blue eyes for something to keep him preoccupied.
Brian merely shrugged as he swept a hand through his raven hair, his locks falling easily back into their semi-neat state instantly. Bryant glared as his brother as he stood angrily over Colton, and Richie let his dark blue eyes wonder warily between them.
"I'm not sure why it's taking so long," Richie spoke abruptly as he watched Brian finally pick up on his brother's gaze, and return it. "They'll probably be finished soon, though, and I'd kind of like not getting in trouble," he continued pointedly, glancing from one brother to the other.
"What does trouble have to do with anything?" Bryant spit acidly as he clenched his fist at his side, advancing from his place lounging on the base of the fountain they sat before.
"You do always seem to find it." Directing the inherited glare down at Ishan, who sat with his wings pulled close to his slight form, Bryant shoved his fists into his pockets and retreated; anyone else, he would have indefinitely clocked them then and there, but with Ishan, he had to content himself with a glower and a growl.
"Ishan," warned Richie. "At least try and avoid trouble?"
"Considering it goes against my family prototype…" Ishan excused himself with a slight tug at his lips, but his wide green eyes were still narrowed.
"Don't we know it?" Brian didn't elaborate, and for a moment, everyone was thrown into an uncomfortable state. He shifted from one foot to another before coming to stand behind Ishan, gently resting a hand on his shoulder as if asking for forgiveness and trying to comfort him at the same time.
"…I don't really remember that much about them, you know? Not even my own mom and dad," he told him quietly after his hand lay resting for a few moments.
"I know," he answered just as inaudibly, but didn't look up at him. Brian stared at him through narrowed eyes for a moment before he sighed and lowered himself down to sit on the sidewalk beside him.
"…I could tell you some of what I remember; you know…sometime. It just…still hurts some," he explained, stumbling over his words as he felt his chest slowly tightening.
"I'd be surprised if it didn't," Bryant mumbled, though without his usual sneer. His face held a thoughtful expression, his dark blue eyes moving to linger on his brother's face. His eyes were telling him he was watching Brian, but his mind was telling him otherwise. There was a lapse of silence that hovered over them until he shattered it again.
"But you remember some?" he asked quietly, shifting his weight as he crossed his arms.
Brian's lips quirked into a small grin. "Yeah, especially about Mom…" His voice trailed off, but he didn't continue.
"So?" Richie prodded him.
Brian lowered his head and let his lids slip over his dark eyes as he slowly grinned. He gently squeezed Ishan's shoulder. Looking up, he met the younger boy's green-eyed gaze. "I promise, I'll tell you everything I remember…someday. You want to know about 'em still, right?"
He nodded, his teeth gritting against each other as he tightened his jaw and closed his eyes seemingly painfully.
The five boys didn't move save for a slight shiver or two in the cool atmosphere, and the silence that settled over them was almost welcome; alone, they were free to contemplate whatever they felt, but with the others, there was an unspoken rule about what just didn't pass their tongues; they realized and respected it, for their sake and for everyone else's sake as well.
Bryant broke it, though, the faint whisper hanging in the air between them before his brain fully comprehended that his thoughts had been spoken aloud. "Do you ever hate them sometimes?"
"Hate them? Hate our parents?" Colton looked up startled, a look of disbelief on his face. "Why?"
Bryant looked as though he were about to explain, his mouth open, ready to finish speaking his mind, but he stopped short as his brother looked around at him, the same haunting face he only saw in portraits staring at him again, questioningly. He felt his blood chill and his spine go rigid. Shaking his head, he lowered his gaze. "Forget what I said."
Bryant stared at his shoes.
Had he really expected them to understand? He didn't understand himself. How could he have thought they would be able to help him?
They saw Brian when they looked at his brother, not an all-too-familiar stranger.
They held tightly to the remnants of their parents, didn't toss everybit angrily into a box and dispose of it all.
They didn't fall into their slumbers with salt laying on their tongues, their cheeks stinging as blazing trails winded over them.
They didn't feel their bodies struggling harder every moment just to breathe.
Bryant blinked and frowned, his hands automatically clinching into fists as he felt his spine stiffen again and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He slowly turned. The man standing before him smiled cockily, close cut brown hair still clearly gray at his temples. His dark brown eyes became darker as he seemed to grow. "Step aside," he commanded him quietly. He pulled his hands from the pocket of his black pants.
"You have no idea what you're doing." Richie was suddenly by his side and Colton was standing before Ishan, who'd rose, his eyes seeming to suddenly glow. Brian cautiously eyed the brown vest he sported, his eyes locking on the bulging pockets and the Thangarian symbol 'death' stitched above his left breast like a badge.
The man's smile grew as he looked over their heads and to Colton. He used one paw to push aside both Bryant and Richie, who nearly fell as they collided with the stone of the fountain. "I want only the half-breed…" He moved to step over the two boys, but he met Colton's gaze, and stepped back instead, unraveled for a moment.
Bryant suddenly tackled into him, head-first, forcing the wind from his lungs. He was hurled backwards a few feet, almost losing his balance at the momentum that carried Bryant into him, and Brian quickly shoved past Colton and drug Ishan behind the stone fountain, where they both kneeled. Ishan barely prevented a glower from crossing his features, but Brian felt the resentment rolling from him even as he ducked back around to the visible side. Colton struck the man's knees before he'd stopped reeling from Bryant's initial blow. The man's legs buckled, and he fell to a kneel as the boys toppled from him and to the ground. Colton climbed back to his feet quicky, grabbing the olive collar around the man's neck and drawing back his hand taunt as an arrow in a bow.
"Leave us alone," he trembled as blood rushed to his face. He laughed again.
"This is going to be more entertaining than I thought," the man growled, eyebrows lowering over narrowed eyes. With a quick movement, he struck Colton with the outside of his right hand, then swept out his leg, teetering both him and Bryant over. Colton quickly rolled away, the strike the man followed through with missing him as his foot dug into the asphalt.
A booted foot with the weight of another man behind it settled atop Bryant's back, pushing him downward and back into the ground before he could push himself back to his feet. He screamed under the pressure, but the man didn't let up until Bryant stopped. He pulled back his leg, then kicked his body away.
Brian prepared to launch himself at the man's head when Richie screamed Ishan's name. The rage fell slightly from his face as he turned, watching in surprise as another man, nearly identical to the first two, held Ishan up like a prize, gripping the boy by his neck as he tried to pry his fingers from around his throat.
He continued to scream.
He hadn't stopped screaming since he'd woken up.
He'd woken up earlier than normal because he'd been screaming.
He'd been screaming since 3:30; A.M.
It was now almost noon.
And Shayera's heart had long since been torn out and destroyed in as malicious a way as possible.
"What's wrong with him?" Wally muttered as he watched the baby scream and stamp his feet while he held onto the couch, his miniscule wings beating rapidly.
"I don't know," Shayera answered exasperatedly. She didn't move from where she lay on the couch, one hand to her head, the other securing Ishan from falling.
"Did you try calming him down?"
"No, Wally," she glared. "I let my son scream and scream because I enjoy having my heart wrenched out and stomped upon by a child with a temper."
He merely shrugged and gave her his trade-mark 'kicked-puppy' look. "I was just trying to help…"
Shayera sighed as she sat up and expertly pulled the still screaming 10-month old up and onto her lap, holding him close and gently trying to quiet him. "I know, Wally, I know," she told him in between catches of a lullaby. "I just don't know what's made him so upset; and I don't like that I don't know what's made him so upset."
"I know," he assured her. He covered the distance from the doorway he'd been standing in, in an attempt to assure his hearing remain undamaged, to the couch. He sat down beside Shayera. Ishan had his mouth open, his first two teeth plainly visible, and was repeatedly burying his head into Shayera's chest, his continuous cry never ceasing, his tiny hands balled into fists as he hung on to her shirt.
"Maybe he wants to nurse," Wally observed placidly, slowly making to leave in the event he did.
"I already tried that," Shayera shook her head.
"Why don't I watch him for a little while, then? You deserve a break, and Tim's keeping up with the kids, right now." Wally held out his hands for the small boy, who continued to scream right over his words and into his mother's shirt.
"Tim?" Shayera questioned as she turned Ishan so he faced Wally, green-eyes still small, upset slits, cheeks still red from yelling non-stop. "You and Dick let him watch those Demon-Spawn? Great; he'll probably let them burn down the manor…"
"I resent that remark," Wally frowned teasingly as Ishan reached for him, his loud and frantic babbling almost drowning out Wally's playful words. "My children aren't Demon-Spawn." He began to babble, imitating Ishan in a quieter tone. Still screaming, he fell into his arms, burying his head in his Uncle's shoulder. His bottom teeth gripped his lip as his eyes searched warily.
Wally placed a hand on his back and rubbed gently at the spot between his wings, imitating a movement he'd seen Shy use when the boy absolutely refused to go to sleep, and for a moment, he quieted down and moved his head into a more comfortable position, his softy, downy feather filled wings folding down onto his back and Wally's hands. "How about I take him outside for a little walk and let you have some down time?"
"I already tried that; I had to bring him back inside because I was afraid he would disturb the neighbors."
Wally frowned as he continued to massage the baby's back. "Neighbors? Need I remind you that neighbors are few and far between at this place seeing as how the owner's personality wasn't what you would call 'friend-friendly'?"
"I realize that, Wally."
He shook his head. "How about I just take him off of your hand for a little while so you can relax?"
Shayera's weary features lit up with a faint smile, though she didn't respond at first. "Thank-you, Wally."
"Sure thing," Wally returned the smile. He twisted his head around slightly to look at the thick tangle of curls on Ishan's head, which was all he could see due to the way Ishan laid on his shoulder. "Has he eaten?"
"Only a little bit, and even then it was a battle to trick him into calming down long enough for me to put food in his mouth."
"Well, gee, that explains it, huh?" Wally asked the still whimpering Ishan. "I know I feel like throwing a fit when I get hungry." He started laughing and Shayera looked at him in question. "You have no idea how ticklish these curls are," he answered, a chuckle being suppressed as he explained. He shifted, and no sooner had he readjusted himself than Ishan started screaming in his ear again.
Wally groaned. "This would never have happened if he didn't have those damn curls. Why won't you cut them, or something?"
Shayera looked thoroughly shocked at the revelation. "Cut his beautiful curls? They'll straighten out on their own when he gets older; until then…deal with it," she dismissed the subject.
"Whatever," Wally rolled his eyes upward and stood, slowly pacing, Ishan still on his shoulder, wearily observing his surroundings.
Smiling still, Shayera lay back on the couch in a sense of tranquility despite that fact that Ishan was still yelling at the top of his lungs, fists pummeling Wally's back. Wally was quietly talking to him, rocking him in a slow, steady rhythm as he moved the baby so that he was looking at his face.
Shy let the wariness that had been pulling her down all day finally take over, and her eyelids slid closed as Wally quieted Ishan.
The peace was interrupted abruptly by Wally's inquiring voice.
"Hey, Shy, why have there been so many Thanagarians leaving today?"
"What?" she answered, her mind still lost somewhere in unconsciousness. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but she knew it had been long enough for Ishan's perpetual yells to be reduced to whimpers for the longest period that day. And Wally was still pacing about the living room.
"Yeah, all day, those hawkpeople have been flooding out of here."
"Wally," Shayera sighed as she blinked. "Did you have to wake me up for that?"
"…yeah, I guess I shouldn't've. Sorry about that." Guilt hit her like a ton of bricks, but 'sorry' got lodged in her throat even as she tried to apologize. It would be easier to just move to something else… he'd forgive her.
"You must be a great dad for Chris and Colton," she mused as she turned on her side and watched Wally gently consoling Ishan through a hazy gaze.
She watched as his face reddened and he grinned. Shayera felt her own lips tug upwards. "I guess. I mean, I'm just a regular dad…who loves his kids."
Neither said a word, and for a while, only Ishan's whimpering filled the room.
"You're good for him; for Ishan, I mean," she added quietly as she began to slip back to sleep.
Wally's grin faltered, but Shayera was already engulfed in another dream.
"Yeah," he repeated and looked down, meeting Ishan's wide-eyed gaze. "Maybe…but I could never compare to John, could I?"