A/N: Okay, a couple of things. First, I'm posting two chapters at once to make up for how long this took. Second, I'm going to be gone for two weeks, so I can't post or even write during that time. I'll get back to this as soon as I can. Third, take care, now!

Book III

Chapter Two: Stand Strong Against the Night

Backpack's Personal Log (4)

Chapter Two: Stand Strong Against the Night

Backpack planted the last sensor outside the house and reported in. Richie?

Here, BP. Is everything all set?

Yes. The sensors are fully operational. Have you reached the Justice League?

Green Lantern and Flash are coming here and Batman, Superman and J'onn are going to Dakota. They're going to track down my father, I think.

You seem afraid, Richie. I assure you they will find him.

That's what I'm afraid of. BP... He's still my father, even if he's an asshole. And I know what Batman does to criminals. What if he goes postal on my dad?

I think that if J'onn and Superman are there, they will prevent such an event from occurring. Both of them have considerable control over their emotions, and Batman would listen to them.

A pause; they both felt Richie's fear ease. You're probably right. Come inside so I can activate the sensors.

I'm on my way.

Backpack glanced around once before heading for the back door. Reaching up, he turned the knob and slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Richie wasn't in the kitchen, so Backpack sent, I'm in. Where are you?

In the living room. Bernadette and John are really shaken. Maybe this is why Virg doesn't tell his pops.

Backpack entered the next room, noting that Bernadette and John were sitting on the couch with Richie between them. Richie was looking between them, trying to reassure them without saying much. When he saw Backpack, he held out a hand.

Backpack crossed to him and scuttled up the back of the couch to settle by Richie's shoulder. "Everything will be well," the small robot said. "The sensors that have been planted will give us enough advance notice to defend ourselves."

"But defend ourselves with what?" John asked. "You can't use your inventions, Richie."

"I can use Backpack. Like I said, he's very good at hiding." He shook his head. "Besides, Green Lantern and Flash will be here soon. And we don't even know if my father will come here. He may not even know where I live."

"It was in the papers," Bernadette said. She was twisting a part of the afghan that hung over the back of the couch. "He isn't a foolish man, Richie."

I can't afford to be afraid, Richie told Backpack. I never realized how civilians act. How Virg and I used to act. Aloud, he said, "No, but he may be too angry to think of that." He took their hands in his. "Listen to me. If is the only word a thousand letters long. There's nothing more we can prepare. Why don't we play a game?" Can't believe I'm suggesting this. "I know you have Sorry! and Monopoly. Which one should we play?"

They didn't answer.

Richie stood, turning to face them. "Okay, I'm thinking of a number between one and twenty. John, your game is Monopoly. Guess the number."

John gaped at him for a moment, then got his mouth working. "Fourteen."

"Bernadette?"

"Eight." Her hands were shaking as she let go of the afghan and clasped them in her lap.

"The number was-" pick one, Rich, and quick!- "nine. I'll get the Sorry! board." BP, can you take them to the kitchen table?

Of course.

Richie started for the corner of the living room where the games lay in a cunning little chest.

The sensors went off, blaring loudly. Richie spun around in time to see John and Bernadette jump. He opened his mouth to speak, but Backpack said, Richie, down!

The blonde dropped and Backpack pulled Bernadette and John to the floor.

What is it, BP? Richie was crawling towards the couch, where Backpack was trying to drag the couple around to the back side.

A great power source. Perhaps a machine gun or-

The alarms stopped abruptly. At the same moment, there came a sharp knock on the front door. "Richie, it's us," came The Flash's voice.

Richie was on his feet and across the room at once. He opened the door, letting in the two heroes, then shut and locked it behind him. "Sorry about that," he muttered, seeing the flustered look on Flash's face. Green Lantern was as inscrutable as ever. "I put up an early warning system."

"A good idea," GL said, "but maybe next time you should warn us."

Richie nodded, chagrined. Then he turned, gesturing as his foster parents stood. "This is Bernadette and John. My… parents." He liked the way that sounded and when Bernadette smiled at him a little, Richie grinned. "This is Green Lantern and The Flash."

John was nodding. "We've seen the news." He came forward and held out his hand, which both older heroes shook. Bernadette did the same. "Forgive us," said John. "We've just never had a son who was a superhero before. We're not used to all of this."

"You're lucky to have such a confident, mature hero for a son," GL said.

Richie beamed, then turned away, not wanting to seem too young or too pleased. "Will you stay until my father is caught?"

"We'll stay until we're sure you're safe," GL answered. He took a picture from one of his hidden pockets and handed it to his partner. "Flash, see if this man is lurking around."

Richie glanced at the picture and wondered how Green Lantern had come upon a picture of his father. Shrugging, he let it go. After all, the man worked with Batman; how could he not have what he needed?

Flash left and they settled themselves in for a long wait. Green Lantern encouraged the board game, and so the four of them sat in the kitchen, rolling dice and studiously not saying what they were all thinking: When would the danger come?

Captain Tsakatos sat forward, folding his hands on top of his desk. "You've been waiting to say something," he said to Virgil. "And since you've been patient through all of my questions, tell me what's on your mind before I have another officer come to take statements."

"Richie's dad wrote the messages," Virgil said at once. He was sitting to his pops' left, his hands clenched. "I'm sure of it. He wrote "I'll bring you home soon." Even when Richie was in the hospital, all his father wanted was to take him away. You have to believe that it's Sean Foley who painted the graffiti. You have to."

"Virgil, in America you're innocent until proven guilty."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you don't let suspects run around free, does it? Look, if it's not Foley, I'm a hamster." He shook his head, seeing the amusement in the captain's eyes. "You have to belive me. It was Richie's dad. He needs to be brought in before he can go to Richie's new house. Some idiot put Richie's new address in the paper and now everyone and anyone who wants to know where he is can just look it up!"

"Richie wasn't placed in a witness protection program. There was no need to keep his new address a secret."

Virgil gaped at him. "No need? No need!" He started to stand, but his pops stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Virgil, that's enough," Robert said, low. "You can't change what's already happened. For now, all we can do is make sure that Richie is protected." He turned to the captain as Virgil continued to glare. "Please understand that Richie is like a member of our family. He's very important to us and all we want is reassurance that you will protect him and follow every lead that presents itself."

Sitting back, Captain Tsakatos folded his hands. "You do have that assurance, Mr. Hawkins. Richie Foley will not be hurt again." He took a stack of forms from his desk drawer. "These are statement pages. Each of you needs to fill one out. Then you will be interviewed."

"And what are you going to do about Richie until we're done?" Virgil asked.

The captain's mouth tucked down at the corners. "First, I'm going to call Sean Foley. Then I'm going to make sure Richie and his foster parents are provided for. Is that satisfactory?"

No. Virgil sighed, aware that he was most likely embarrassing his father. "Yes. Thank you."

Nodding, the captain stood. "I'll return shortly. Stay here until someone comes for you." He strode from the room, closing the door behind him.

"Why do I feel like we're not going to get any help here?" Virgil muttered.

"Virgil, stop it," Robert said as he took three pens from the desk. "They're helping us, aren't they?" Then he remembered what he had asked his son to do. "Did you get in touch with Richie?"

"Yeah. There isn't much they can do though, is there?" Virgil scrawled his name on the top of his statement sheet. "I mean, it isn't like John keeps a gun in the house just in case of attack by a racist, psychotic-"

"Virgil."

Virgil took in a breath, then let it out slowly. "Richie sounded nervous, but said they'd stay away from any windows that could shatter. And of course they locked all the doors."

Robert reached out and put his hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Then everything that can be done is being done. Fill out your form. If nothing else, it will help to pass the time."

"All men of God are hunted. If you aren't hunted, you aren't doing enough in His service."

Sean read the words that had been written inside his Bible. This Bible was different than most, adding some books and taking out others. It was the true Bible. So he had been taught, and because he had faith, Sean Foley believed.

I am a hunted man. He smiled. And blessed to be so. If I am persecuted for Jesus' sake, I blessed and will have my place in Heaven.

He slipped the Bible into his bag, among the clothes and the money he'd withdrawn from his bank. All of it; his entire savings. And Richie's college fund.

I won't need all of that to get me out of town, but the treatment facility costs money. I wish Richie's hard-saved money could be spent on college, but teaching his soul is more important than teaching his mind. His mind will pass. His soul will endure for eternity, either in Heaven or Hell. I will not let him go to Hell. I will save my son.

He checked to make sure he had everything with him, from his belt to his holy books to his son's beautiful blueprints of the launch pad he never got to build.

I'll return it to him. But for now, I must hide. I will pray for guidance when I'm safely away from here. Like Elijah, I will go off by myself to meditate and to hide until I am called. And I will be called, just like that long-ago prophet.

He shouldered his bag and started downstairs, turning off lights and closing doors as he went. And the time may come when I need a weapon as Moses had his staff. But that time is not now. For now, I retreat, regroup, regain my strength. Then will I return.

It hurt him to think that he wouldn't be able to see Richie for a long time. But God will hold off on the punishment of all souls for this. Just as he rescued Lot from Sodom he will rescue my Richie from the sinful people around him. Sean thought of the angels that had come to warn Lot and his family. The men of the town wanted to rape the angels. But God protected them and rescued Lot and his family. I am Lot, but Richie will not suffer the same fate as Lot's wife. Richie will not look back. Richie will walk at my side, confident and sure and ready to accept a new life. The treatment camp will do that. With God's help, it will do that. And with my help as well.

He climbed into his car. He wouldn't be able to keep this one, of course, but for now it was safe enough, he judged. Double-checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything (the can of paint and brushes were in his trunk, more so that they wouldn't be left to be soiled (holy relics they would be someday, if kept away from heathen hands) than because Sean was afraid of being linked to the warnings.

I'll be linked, but that's as it should be. Did Jesus deny his part in the miracles that occurred? Never! And neither will I.

He turned right out of his driveway and headed south.

Hotstreak had crouched by he bushes that divided Virgil's house from the next one over. He had arrived in time to see Sean Foley climb back into his car and drive off. Then Hotstreak snuck around to the front of the house, pondered the graffiti, thought of how thoroughly pissed Virgil was going to be and wondered if he could scrub it off.

Oh yeah, Hotshot, that's a great way to end up in jail. There's too much light here to do this without being seen. He crept back to the bushes and sat, thinking. Besides, it's just paint. He snorted. Yeah, and Ebon just wanted to play hopscotch with Gear. The result will be the same; Virgil will lose it. Maybe not right away, since he'll probably be in front of his family when they come back from Richie's, but he'll lose it eventually.

He stared at the paint, noting the way it shone under the white porch light. Not like blood at all, no matter what that nutcase was muttering. "Blood to warn and wash away sins" my ass. Blood dries and turns dark. It's like that O.J. Simpson trial- how can you possibly see dried blood on black socks? Feel it like a crust, yes, but you can't see it.

Hotstreak grunted. If I was a famous person I wouldn't want my trial televised over the entire world. Granted, he had only been five or six when the trial aired, but that was old enough to understand the thing about the socks. I only saw that little bit of the trial, and by accident. I was flipping through channels while Aunt Sue was out. When she came how, she told me not to watch such things. "They're no good except for people who don't have their own lives," she told me. And she was right. How long has it been since I've watched T.V.? A long time, but I don't even miss it. What's the point? I've got my own life to live, sucky as it is sometimes. I don't have any time to live someone else's life, too.

That thought brought an image of Richie to his mind. Hotstreak thought back, wondering if he'd ever seen the blonde with bruises. Well, there's only one time, and I gave it to him.

He admitted, That was the same day I realized Virgil could lose it, and that when people lose it they become stronger than you could have ever thought possible. Unconsciously, he rubbed at the side of his face. Virgil had practically broken his jaw.

/Flashback/

Hotstreak- no, he'd just been plain old, dangerous-as-hell Francis, going through the fourth grade for the second time. He'd been out for a month with a disease his doctors said was common enough but which his aunt said came from negligence on the part of his parents. It started as only a cold, worsened and worsened until he ended up in the hospital.

Again.

That was one of the times his Aunt Sue took him in. And his parents never came for him. Let her take care of the bills, they said and Let her take care of the puke and the medicine and the waking up at night to soothe him.

He came back to school actually glad to be back. He was even more happy when he discovered that they were talking about volcanoes in science and the Revolutionary War in social studies. He was so happy, in fact, that at first he didn't recognize the new student. He finally noticed him during Language Arts.

The kid was sitting next to Virgil, the only black kid in their class. Francis glanced around to see if there were any other seats the new kid could have taken. There were three: one close to a window, too, which was a coveted spot. Another was next to Francis in the back of the room and the third was two rows to Francis's left, in the very corner of the classroom. Still, despite all this prime real estate, the blonde was sitting in the very front of the class next to Virigl.

Mrs. Kruger probably put him there. Like she moved Virgil to the front of the room to keep him from talking and doodling comics when he was supposed to be paying attention.

He watched the kid work his way through Language Arts. Then it was time for lunch. The whole class poured into the cafeteria. But, Francis noticed, the new kid stuck close to Virgil. And when the two of them sat at a table, they sat alone.

Determined to learn a little about the kid who was hanging out with one of his favorite targets, Francis made it a point to get himself picked to work with the blonde during math. And wanting to hide his true nature from the new kid, Francis actually got to work. It was a little hard, but he was glad to see the blonde was having just as much trouble as he was. At least he's not a genius. I hate geniuses.

Halfway through the worksheet, Francis got up his courage to ask, "What's your name?"

The kid blinked and looked up at him through his thick-framed glasses. "Richie Foley. You're Francis, right?"

The redhead stared at him, then looked back at their work. "How d'you know that?"

"Virg told me." Richie pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Wait- we need to go back. Problem three is wrong." He pointed. "Look. We both multiplied it wrong. Four times eight is thirty-two, not thirty-six." He began to erase the mistake and Francis followed suit.

"What else did Virgil say about me?"

Richie shrugged. "Not much. He's just been pointing out people since I got here."

Francis wasn't sure if he was disappointed or glad. "Where'd you move from?"

"Ohio."

That was on the other side of the world as far as Francis was concerned. "Why'd you move here?"

The boy hesitated, biting his lip. "Well," he said finally, "Dad got a job here. So we had to move." He was rewriting the problem. "If four times eight is thirty-two and we add eleven to that-" He started to count on his fingers.

"Don't bother," Francis said. His aunt had taught him a thing or two about math and how to add double digits. "Eleven's really close to ten, right?"

Richie nodded.

Francis saw Mrs. Kruger drifting in their direction and fought his natural desire to cause a disturbance. "Well, just add ten to thirty-two."

"Forty-two," Richie said. Then he grinned. "Then you just add the one." He penciled in his answer. "That's cool. Who taught you?"

"My aunt." Mrs. Kruger was moving away again and Francis relaxed. "So when did you move here?"

"Three weeks ago."

I hate being out for so long. Francis turned his attention back to the worksheet. He shot occasional glances at Richie, but the boy seemed totally absorbed.

As soon as the work period was over, Richie went back to Virgil's side. Francis saw Virgil glance at him, then whisper something to Richie. Both of them laughed.

Francis scowled and slumped down in his seat, staring at the ceiling. I talked to you and I didn't beat you up! he thought at the blonde. Who do you think you are laughing at me?

When the last bell rang, Francis dashed outside and waited for Richie just outside the fence. He'd heard the kid say he would walk home with Virgil and he was determined to be there to give the blonde what was coming to him.

Richie came out of the school alone and wandered towards the fence. His bag was slung over his shoulder and he seemed to be looking up at the sky.

Francis leapt out from behind the fence and dragged Richie behind it so they couldn't be seen by the teacher on duty. "You think it's funny to laugh at me?" he snarled, putting his face very close to Richie's.

Instead of the fear he expected, Richie looked confused. "I didn't laugh at you," he said.

Francis punched him in the stomach. "I saw you and Virgil during math."

Richie was gasping for air, but strangely no tears were in his eyes. "We weren't laughing at you!" he exclaimed. "V just asked me if Green Lantern had ever flunked math."

"He looked at me," Francis retorted. "Then you both laughed." He hit Richie again, unnerved by the fact that the blonde wasn't crying.

Richie tried to wriggle lose. "I didn't see that, but we weren't laughing at you!"

Francis hit him again for lying. "I guess Virgil didn't tell you enough about me. Everybody around here does what I say. Got it?" He slammed Richie against the fence.

Richie's eyes were beginning to tear up at last. Francis saw this, relished it, and hit the kid again, this time in the face. Richie's glasses went flying.

"Francis, don't-" Richie was still trying to get away from him.

You're not going anywhere until I say it's okay, Francis thought, grinning unpleasantly at the kid, though not without a trace of enjoyment. He raised his hand to punch Richie again.

Only to have someone slam into him from his right, knocking the wind out of him and making him let go of Richie. Francis fell sideways with a degrading "ooaff!"

But his attacker didn't stop there. He shoved the disoriented Francis onto his back and started punching him in the face, his fist falling so fast and so hard that Francis couldn't at first tell who was hitting him.

"Stay away from Richie!" Virgil's childish treble screamed. "Stay away from him! If you hit him again I'll… I'll make you sorry!"

Not the best threat in the world, certainly, and Francis would have laughed if Virgil hadn't been so furious.

"Say you're sorry!" Virgil ranted on. "Say you're sorry! And say you'll never hurt him again!"

"Virg, stop!"

And just like that, the weight was off Francis's chest. He rolled away at once and got to his feet. Richie was sprawled half on top of a winded Virgil, now just turning his head to squint up at Francis. And now there was fear in his face, yes there was. But it was a sane fear, a controlled fear, if you could get your head around that.

Francis grabbed the blonde and swore that he would make the kid scared for real. He meant to throw Richie against the fence and start beating on him again, but suddenly his lover body exploded in pain and he dropped Richie as he fell to his knees, holding on to his crotch.

Virgil was standing above him, one hand on Richie's shoulder, as if holding him back, the other one raised in a fist. "I told you-"

"Mr. Hawkins!"

/End Flashback/

Hotstreak grinned. Yeah, they'd all ended up in the principal's office for that little tussle. And, unlike what happened in a lot of movies, they didn't become friends. The gap between them widened and Francis had to watch the friendship between Richie and Virgil deepen and the chasm between himself and the pair widen until no bridge could span it. Right now it was probably the widest it had ever been, with Virgil and Richie in love and teamed up against him.

Except now maybe we don't need a bridge. Maybe we just need, I don't know, a flight plan or something.

He was startled out of his thoughts when the Hawkins' car drove up. Hotstreak watched Virgil's father get out and examine the damage. As he got back in, Hotstreak felt someone's eyes on him and looked up in time to see Virgil staring very hard at the place he was crouching.

Shit. Francis crawled backwards, making it around the side of the house before the headlights hit his evacuated hiding place. Knowing he probably wasn't safe there, either, Francis took to his heels.

Why was I at his house, anyway?

He scowled, hating that he couldn't answer the question.

Richie sat beside Green Lantern on the desk chair in the blonde's room while Bernadette and John played a card game called Hand and Foot with Flash in the kitchen. Richie couldn't imagine how the super-speed hero was managing to keep still, and he admired the older hero for it. As for me, I'm just too tired to be antsy or nervous. Flash had returned almost an hour ago with the news that Sean Foley was nowhere to be found. But Green Lantern said they wouldn't leave until everything was secure. How long that would take Richie had no idea.

"It's always dangerous living with civilians," Green Lantern said. "Once you and Static join the League, you can live on the Watchtower. Or just live by yourselves here on Earth."

Richie shook his head. "I always thought being able to tell someone about my secret life would be good. I feel so close to John and Bernadette because they know my secret and because they aren't trying to stop me." He felt Backpack move closer to him and he touched the robot, seeking comfort.

"It's hard for superheroes to have normal lives," Green Lantern told him. "That's why we're our own family. As time goes on, you'll find it much easier to be close to Virgil than to your foster parents. They just don't' think the way we do. And we can't expect them to."

"I don't really want them to," Richie said softly. "I want them to love me like they do now and not start thinking like… Well, like I have to think. About the risks, calculated and otherwise."

Green Lantern nodded. "And that's as it should be. You were given these powers and they weren't. It falls on your shoulders to defend people and on their shoulders to love you as their son. Each of us has a job to do, whether it's on the sidelines or right out where everyone can see us." He unbent enough to smile. "As you've read in a hundred comics, ordinary people are everyday heroes. You just don't hear about them because very few people want to read 'and they lived happily ever after.' What most people want to read- why newspapers sell- are the dangerous, frightening, deadly things that live in the world among the parents loving their children and the churches helping the poor."

He shifted slightly, glanced at Backpack, who had moved on to Richie's lap, and then back at Richie himself. "Don't forget all the good things that happen even they aren't talked about."

Richie blushed. "I won't forget."

Green Lantern found himself smiling again and thought, Only Flash has been able to do this to me. This kid... I'm glad Virgil saved him from Brainiac. The world needs more people like this.

"You're talkinag bout Virgil," he said out loud and watched Richie's blush deepen.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

Backpack stirred and touched Richie's cheek. Green Lantern watched as Richie turned his eyes to his creation and held a silent, brief conversation. Richie's expression changed, touching first on surprise before moving on to fear. When he frowned and his jaw tightened, Green Lantern realized the boy probably wasn't going to share any of the details of his conversation with him.

Richie shook his head at the robot, then looked at Green Lantern. His reassuring smile wasn't the least convincing. He seemed to realize this and looked across the room at the bookshelf placed there. "How long will you stay here?" he asked, eyes trained on the books across the way. Green Lantern saw the sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Until Batman takes your father to the authorities or decides that the man has left the area and won't return soon." He glanced at Backpack. Was the robot asking for something? Gren Lantern didn't consider himself a good reader of machine-emotions, but he thought the answer was probably yes. "And I might just stay a little longer if there are other things that need to resolved here." There, kid; take the opening. It's the best I can do. I'm not a natural psychologist. Even Batman's better than I am.

Richie swallowed. "It's nothing that I can explain," he said. "And it's not like I should still be having problems. It's been months since Brainiac." He repositioned himself so he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. With one hand resting on Backpack, he said, "Besides, you're not here to help me figure out my problems. I'm supposed to go see a shrink for that kind of thing." He snorted. "I'll bet Dr. Rhodes has never heard anything like this before. He'd have me in the nuthouse in a week." He laughed hollowly. "Just like Mom. Maybe we'd even get rooms on the same Ward."

Then he shook his head so violently his glasses almost fell off. "This is self-indulgent nonsense and I know it. I would never leave Virg. Which means I would never go talk to any shrink. I have to stay here. And why should talking about this help anyway? I'm a superhero; this kind of crap comes with the costume."

"Not everything you suffered was as a superhero," Green Lantern noted.

Richie smiled. "Yeah, but it's still me under the mask. Not like before, when I was a different person with my helmet on." He raised an eyebrow. "Did Batman tell you about my split personality?"

"He did, saying that you were healed and as long as you didn't try to split yourself apart again you should be fine."

"I've been fighting as Gear for four months or so. I should have developed the thick skin Virg has against everything that comes his way."

"Hmmm," Green Lantern answered, "I don't think he developed the 'skin' you're talking about until well into his second year. And his skin isn't impenetrable. When Brainiac took you, Virgil was angry enough to shout at myself and the rest of the Justice League members who came to Earth. If his skin really existed, don't you think he would have been able to control his feelings a little more?"

Richie shook his head. "I have to be in control of myself. I can't let go. If I do, I'm betraying V."

"No one is perfect, Richie, as much as I think you don't believe that."

"I have to be," Richie answered. "I almost got Virgil killed because I couldn't fight Brainiac. Hell, the world was almost digitized because of my failure to simply fight." He met Green Lantern's eyes and his own icy blue orbs were narrowed with concentration. "I have this need to do things on my own, but I can't really fight alone. I learned that when we split up last month. I insisted we split up, even though V was having terrible premonitions. I let my emotions control me then and I was captured and raped as a result. Face it. The only time I can use my emotions are when I'm out of costume, and even then I can only let out my love for Virg, BP and my foster parents and the occasional flare of annoyance when Virg and I disagree about something."

Do you know how crazy you sound? Green Lantern didn't say those words; they would likely push Richie so far away that no one could follow. Instead, he said, "If Batman can make mistakes and J'onn can make mistakes and I can make mistakes, my can't you? If we can show our emotions, why can't you?"

"Batman doesn't…" But Richie stopped. He knew better; Green Lantern saw the knowledge in his eyes.

"Even Brainiac showed what served him as emotions. Batman said he'd never heard the computer gloat until he had captured Batman and Static. You can probably tell me more about Brainiac's emotions than I've ever seen. Was he angry sometimes? And I don't mean just 'frustrated because of slow-working connections' or the like. I mean completely consumed by rage."

In spite of himself, Richie grinned. "When I escaped his first nightmare he was furious. He was hiding it, but he was angry, all right." He looked down at Backpack and Green Lantern sensed another silent conversation taking place. At last, Richie looked up. "If you're sure you have the time…"

"Knowing Batman, he will be quite thorough in his investigation."

Richie nodded and glanced at Backpack again before speaking. "BP is going to show you oen of my dreams. My worst one. Since I don't remember much about it, if anything, BP thinks it might be a night terror." He was blushing, but he pushed on. "Are you ready?"

"Will your parents be able to hear this?"

Backpack beeped. "BP can make the space around us soundproof." He paused, then said, "Here we go."

Backpack turned his sensor-eye to the middle of the room and the holographic, three dimensional movie began to play.

Richie sat completely still, his face betraying nothing as the images moved and changed before them. Any embarrassment or nervousness he would have felt was overshadowed by the possibility that he wouldn't dream something like this again. If Green Lantern could help him, that was. He prayed for that help.

He watched Slipstream die at his dream-hand seven times. He died from the combination of electricity and water six of those seven times but the last time when he came back and again leapt at Virgil, Richie threw himself at the Bang Baby and strangled him with his own hands, screaming that the bastard wouldn't hurt Virgil, would never hurt Virgil.

And when Slipstream at last lay still, the nightmare was over. Backpack turned his eye to Richie and waited to see what the teen would do.

Green Lantern, too, was looking at Richie, but more thoughtfully than as if he expected Richie to offer him any answers. At length, he said, "I'm glad you're dreaming these things now. It means you aren't repressing them." He smiled at Richie's amazement and went on. "I'm not saying night terrors are healthy, but at least now I know what you truly fear." He broke his normal stoicism- already strained by those smiles- and touched Richie's hand where it rested atop Backpack. "I will help you work through these feelings. There are purging techniques I used when I joined the League. Batman used some of them as well. Maybe I can get you in touch with Nightwing and Robin of the Teen Titans. They both know all about anger and how to work through it." Seeing the hesitation in Richie's eyes, he invited, "Speak your mind."

Richie plunged in at once. "I don't have time to go and see them."

"They'll contact you over the web."

"I don't want to distract them from their jobs."

"They're already talking amongst themselves- it's a weekly counseling thing the League requires. Others who are struggling with anger are required to participate on a regular basis." He leaned forward. "Actually, we may have to speak to Virgil soon. I'm only talking to you first because you came forward."

"I don't want to show them how I feel."

"Why?"

Richie flushed. "Because… Because I don't want to be seen as weak."

"If you admit your weakness, you are stronger because others will help you to work through it. Anger can be an enemy, Richie, but it can also be your friend. If you can learn to channel it, to use it as the adrenaline boost it is, it can serve you instead of being your master."

These last words seemed to get through to Richie. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why shouldn't I? I've used my anger as a weapon longer than you've been alive. Why shouldn't I believe what works?"

Richie smiled tentatively. "So they'll help me? I don't want to end up like… Like my dad." He looked at the floor. "His anger makes him very strong."

"Have you ever seen Star Wars?"

Richie's head snapped up and he gaped at the Lantern. "Yeah, but…"

"But you didn't think I had?" Green Lantern sighed in a long-suffering way. "Flash has dragged me to all of the movies. In the second movie, the clone one, Wobi-an tells Anerkin-"

Richie laughed so hard tears streamed down his cheeks. "Obi-Wan and Anakin," he said, snickering.

Green Lantern ignored him. "He says to his apprentice that he must not let emotions cloud his connection to the Force or something like that." Richie could tell Green Lantern was starting to regret bringing up a topic he didn't fully understand. But the man was trying to make a point, so Richie kept silent. "Don't let your anger get in the way of your duty to Dakota and to Virgil. That's all I'm trying to say." He stood. "Come on, let's go play some cards."

Richie grinned, seeing how flustered the famous hero was. "You'll send me the web address?"

"Nightwing will contact you." Green Lantern strode to the door and left the rom.

Alone with Backpack for a moment, Richie said, "You were right. I'm glad I told him. Thank you, BP. I'm sorry I got mad at you."

"I am only glad my guess worked," Backpack answered. "I thought perhaps it would hurt you even more."

Richie lifted the robot so he could ride on his creator's shoulders. "Let's go beat Virg at cards."

"He seems to have left town," the captain repeated for the third time.

Still, Virgil glared at him. "And so you aren't going to go after him? What it he's looking for Richie?"

"We've already spoken with Mr. Corbett regarding his foster son," Captain Tsakatos said again. "There isn't much more we can do except contact other towns in the area and have their police on the lookout for Mr. Foley. But as I've said, his disappearance isn't evidence that he wrote graffiti on your house. We've already dusted for fingerprints and came up negative."

He turned to Robert, seeing that Virgil was determined to be completely uncooperative. The man's daughter hadn't so much as spoken. The captain found that he was wondering what she was thinking. So instead of speaking to her father, he said, "Miss Hawkins, may I ask what you make of all this?"

She was on her fifth or sixth cup of coffee. Setting it down, she closed her eyes. "I'm scared." She sounded anything but, her voice calm and her face unmarked by strain. Perhaps it was a product of the coffee. "Our mom was killed by gang violence, so we're no strangers to pain, Captain Tsakatos." She leaned forward and opened her eyes.

The captain saw at once that he had been wrong to think she was calm. The sorrow and worry was evident in her eyes and now her tone hardened.

"Richie is my brother. He's Virgil's boyfriend. And he's our Dad's son. He's in danger. Like Mom was, except she was a grown woman who went out every day to fight for the innocent. Richie's just a skinny sixteen-year old boy who's been hurt his whole life." She reached out and touched the man's hand across the desk, making sure she had his undivided attention. "When I was younger, before Mom died, I saw her holding Richie on her lap. I got really jealous and wanted to know why she was holding somebody else's kid. She said…" Sharon's eyes were distant now. " 'He may be someone else's child, but he's my baby, too, honey. He doesn't have a mommy to love and take care of him. He needs me.' I asked her why she didn't take him away from his parents, then, and adopt him. 'I can't, Sharon. No one will believe that Richie's being neglected. So I have to do the best I can for him while he's here.' And so that's what we want to do, sir." Sharon bore down on the man's hand. "We want to help Richie because he has no one else. His foster parents are nice, but they aren't us. We love Richie. We have always been there for him. And we want to protect him. Please help us take care of him. Don't let his father hurt him again. Please."

"Miss Hawkins-" The captain made as if to withdraw his hand, but Sharon wasn't done yet.

"Let Richie come live with us. I know we aren't a certified foster home, but we're the best thing for Richie. He needs to go to the school he always has. He needs the support of his other friends. He needs to feel safe in a house that he practically grew up in. And, if nothing else, Sean Foley, if he really wants to hurt Richie, won't be able to find him."

"I mean no offense, Miss Hawkins, but isn't your house the first place he would look?"

"It's the second. He'll look to the address that was published in the newspaper. And even if he comes to our house, my boyfriend, Adam Evans, is Rubberband Man and will protect him. And if Richie lives with us, he'll walk home from school every day with Virgil. Isn't that safer then sending him to a school where nobody knows him and so nobody will be looking out for him? And," she added as the captain stopped trying to pull his hand away, "Static and Gear will have an easier time keeping an eye on him if he's in Dakota. And you know they've taken an interest in him. Maybe one of them has dealt with abuse before. For whatever reason, they patrol Dakota, not the suburbs, so they'll have an easier time spotting trouble for Richie. And we would all feel a lot better if we knew that Richie was protected by my dad, me, Virgil, the kids and teachers at school and the Community Center as well as by three superheroes."

At last, she released his hand and sat back. But she didn't lower her eyes, keeping him looking at her. "Please help me take care of my little brother. We don't want to lose another family member."

Everyone sat in silence for a moment. Virgil wanted to stare at his sister, but kept his eyes trained forward. Let the captain know they were all united, that they all thought as she did. But…. Damn! Where did that come from? Maybe I should take whatever public speaking class she did when I get into college!

Robert reached out and put his hand on his daughter's folded ones. He, too, was looking at Captain Tsakatos.

At last, looking slightly shaken (his eyes moved from face to face like a skater moves over ice) the man cleared his throat. "Well, Miss Hawkins… I must admit I didn't realize how much Richard Foley meant to all of you." He shifted in his chair, then stood. "Let me talk to a few people." He raised a warning finger. "This doesn't mean you're going to get what you asked for, but I'll put the suggestion out there." Without another word (and without looking directly at Sharon, whom he seemed to be avoiding) Captain Tsakatos left the room.

Again, silence reigned, broken this time by Virgil. "Wow," he whispered, turning to his sister. "Don't let this go to your head, but that was cool." He grinned at her.

She smiled, but looked away. Reaching out, she picked up her coffee cup. Her hands were back to being unsteady.

"Honey, I'm so proud," her father said. "And your mother would have been, too. I know it." He squeezed her left hand as she raised the cup to her lips.

"So… You really like Richie hanging around, huh?" Virgil asked.

Sharon shot him a sideways glance. "Don't push it."

Batman frowned. "I'll find him. I swear it." He was crouching on top of a house across from Richie's own, his eyes dark and narrowed with determination. There had only been a handful of criminals in his entire career that he couldn't find or defeat. Each of those stood out clearly in his mind. Sean Foley, a mere man with nothing to help him except his own doubtful wit and resource, would not be one of those.

"But what will you do with him?" J'onn asked. "He will not be held in a jail cell here, and he is too sane for Arkem."

"Any man that wants to hurt his son is insane."

The Martian shook his head. "Think of this from his perspective, Batman. He believes that he is doing the best thing for Richie. He truly and deeply believes everything that was taught to him at the meetings he attended. He knows that Hell is a real place, knows it in his innermost heart, and hates the thought of losing Richie to that terrible place. He doesn't want his son to be seperated form God for an eternity."

"How do you know so much about Christianity?" Batman asked, for the first time looking away form the house to stare at the alien beside him.

"When I came to Earth, I needed a way to understand it. So I began researching what its people believe in, and what they once believed in. Because even if you don't still believe something, it can have a bearing on how you conduct your life." He added, "Also, when you told me of Richie's newfound faith, I went back and studied Christianity again. It seemed paradoxical in the extreme that Richie would become a member of a religion that had given birth to The Crusades and many other wars, not to mention the Ku Klux Kluan. I needed to know if there was something I was missing, something that split Christianity into two halves, a light half and a dark half."

"Did you?"

J'onn shook his head. "No. In this religion, there is the chance for both. And there is always that chance. You can always switch to the other side of things." He shook his head again, this time in puzzlement. "It's a dangerous thing to believe in something that can be both good and evil. I wonder if Richie knows that."

Batman gazed at the empty house. "He knows."

J'onn tilted his head slightly. "You're so sure. Why?"

At first, it didn't seem as if Batman would answer. He was glowering at the house as if imagining that it was Sean Foley. But slowly, his face eased. "Because I know Richie. He has weighed both the benefit and the danger. I'm sure of that. And he's decided that the potential good outweighs the bad. Besides, he already has built in a safety."

"What do you mean?"

"Richie has vowed that he will not turn to the evil side of anything, including his religion, because he loves Virgil."

"Is his love strong enough, do you think?"

Batman grunted. "It's one of the few things I believe in." He stood. "Come on. We're not accomplishing anything here." He turned away and stalked to the edge of the roof. Glancing over his shoulder, he said one more thing before leaping into the air/ "Of course, I've been wrong before."

Backpack's Personal Log

Personal Log

Date: 7-30-05

Subject: Sean Foley

He hasn't been found yet, but Batman has sworn to do so. For now, it is only myself, Richie, Bernadette and John in the house. Tomorrow, Virgil and the rest of his family will visit. Today, they were scrubbing off the paint. Richie volunteered to come over and help, but Robert said he should stay put until they were about his father. Richie's seventeenth year of life isn't starting out very cheerfully.

I find it strangely comforting to write down my thoughts this way. Even if they are only in my 'head,' and I could always access them, there is a totally to this concrete truth-telling that I find relaxing.

A/N: Hey everybody: Tenshi no Mugen drew pictures to go with this story. If you want ot see them, email me! Macfal1219 Well, if there's a time for Sean Foley to rot in jail, it's not quite yet. But I'm with you: let's hope something very unpleasant happens to him.

Tenshi no Mugen: Thank you again for the pics and for the review.

Tristripe: Well, more show-timeline stuff for you, my dear, though not until the next chapter (which I also posted, just in case everybody didn't see that. I don't want you guys to think I'm stiffing you.) And, yup, Richie definitely needs therapy. Now let's see if it helps.

leev: Hotstreak is so cute I can't stay mad at him- but sometimes I just want to smack him upside the head.

MsManga: Sorry this update took so long. Hope it's worth it. Anyway, I love Bernadette and John. I had no idea they were going to become so important.

Moonjava: Okay, as promised- Friday it is. Though late Friday. BLUSH Anyway, two chapters up. Have fun.