"This is Home" He thought to himself, As he floated motionless, Just outside of the Earth's atmosphere. 5 years gone since he saw it last, and almost 30 since he set foot on it, And amidst all of its changes, It was still the same. The way the sun warmed all beneath it. The sky's crisp feeling as he glided through it, And the clouds which hung in its grip. In fact, The only thing that had changed about his home, Was the people.

Before his exit from their world, He was looked upon as a Hero. A mythical creature of limitless possibilities, and infinite strength. He was in every way, their savior. Or one of many, He told himself. But since his return to this planet, their voices had silence in the speaking of his name. The newspapers all but denied his existence. Emergencies were reacted to with immediate response, by other heroes, who quickly thanked him for showing, but took care of it on his own. He thought, for a second, that they did not need him anymore. Only to come to the realization, a much more painful one, that they simply, did not want him.

Uninformed of the happenings after he left, He decided to use the years he spent as a reporter, and find out just what occurred. Tearing into the Earth like a comet, He came down onto the streets of New York, and cracked and smashed the pavement with the ease of a child squeezing a wet cracker. Watching as every human in the area quickly dispersed, Saying nothing, showing nothing, He simply felt nothing, And took his path into the large, library ahead of him. The doors shut with force, and quickly began to glow a vibrant, cherry red, as he super heated the door, Barring anyone of normal means of entering, and disturbing his efforts.

Miles away, In shelter further beneath the Earth then even the location of Altantis. They gathered. Those who had taken to enacting a contingency plan, In the likes of such a return, By the man who's name none can bear to mention.

In attendance, was a group of men that the universe had come to depend upon, with almost unfailing certainty, for protection, and guidance. And here they sat today, with that very idea in mind.

Standing up, The now keeper of OA, and guardian of sector 823, Hal Jordon looked to his compatriots, and lifted his head upward. "I hereby bring this meeting to order. Having not had one in quite sometime, I feel it would be a waste of time, and energy to even bother addressing the former meeting. As we all know what we now face."

Taking a deep breath, Hal Jordan raised his fist from his side, and addressed the wall to his left. A small green picture of He whose' name they dare not speak appears, And an uneasy feeling quickly spreads about the room, at record speed.

"In what we all predicted, But wished for otherwise, The being known as Kal El of Krypton, Has returned to this sector once more. Having been exiled by himself, For reasons obvious to us all, Not one of us can claim this unexpected. As it is the very reason we came together to begin with. Unfortunatley, As we never did settle on a plan of action for such a case as this, we are sadly at square one, as far as a course of action is concerned. I know that we all have our own ideas…but if we leave this room without coming to terms, one way or the other…then I fear we not only leave ourselves defenseless…but our people, our planet, and our universe as well."

A hand appeared from the shadows, And Hal Jordan, Green Lantern, Acknowledged it immediately. "Bruce, please."

"As for our previous meetings, The contingency of the black out has begun. John Jonz and Zartana have already begun to block him from hearing his name, But they assure me that some things do get through. Of course, I've made sure that they knew the importance of keeping this meeting, first and foremost. But in the time this meeting takes, Someone, somewhere, Might forget what we told them, and…well, expeditiously is the word of the day, gentleman."

"Agreed." He said from beyond the green hood hanging over his face. All eyes turned toward him, Not one of them was happy of the Vengeance's inclusion in the group, But all agreed that it was a needed sacrifice. As without guidance, The spirit might do something unwanted, and set He whose' name they dare not mention, Back onto the path they last saw him walking. "But the urgency of the situation is not to stop him from hearing what the public perceives him to be, Batman." Bruce had told him a thousand times to stop referring to him as that, But as far as Vengeance was concerned, His spirit was Batman, Just as his own was Vengeance. "The urgency, is to stop him, period."

"Spirit, We all know what has to be done…" spoke the faint voice of Billy Batson. Having grown into that of a man, But still of child-like mind, as far as his place amongst the heroes. "The question, Is how?"

Silence followed his question, As all knew each had their own ideas. And all knew that each, Had an aversion to the others. Except for one.

Standing in his crimson suit, All eyes glared at the gleaming lighting bolt set in the center. He had been one of the originals. One, Who like He who shall remain nameless, Vanished and returned, Sometime later. But it was not disgrace that chased Barry Allen away. It was death.

"We all know that we can sit here all night, debating each others plans, while pushing our own. But the fact of the matter is, not one of our plans will work by themselves." And he placed his hand in the center of the table. A symbol of something long forgotten. A bond once shared, Not out of necessity, But of want. A want for a better world. And what was the point of all this, if not that? "Lets make them work together...By working, Together."

One by one their hands were placed upon his. And they stared into each others eyes, Each silently reciting an oath that they swore would never be uttered again. And each realized, That never before, Had they meant it so much.

"Okay then. Let's get started."

Sitting back down, They watched, listen, and participated, As each member gave the best laid plan they had, While including the functional points of anothers. And slowly but surely, Each felt a better feeling about the confrontation they had always knew was coming, And had always wanted to avoid.

But further away, In an environment just as dark and dreary as that in which they had entered earlier. Something of an opposite ideal was about to take place. One which, not one of them, Could have ever predicted, Or have any hopes of stopping.

He sat on the edge of the bed, Staring at the light, And waiting for it to be silenced. Wondering, still, just what time it was above the surface, where the world he has forgotten, and vice versa, exists. And in the moment he finally blinks, the light is silenced. The darkness is restored. And the quiet, that he has been left in since the day he entered this cell…is broken.

"Hello." A voice said, Scattering him to the underside of the bed, with the sheet pulled around him.

"Who…who said that?"

"A friend."

"Last time I checked, I didn't have any of those. Thanks."

"Last time I checked, You weren't the type to scream for forgiveness in your sleep. But things change, do they not?"

Crawling out from under the bed, He looked up at the ceiling, and scratched his ear, As confusion took its toll on his expression.

"Who are you? How long have you been watching me? What time did this light go out?"

"Me, I'm the key to your redemption. And I haven't been watching you as long as some people…And it's 9:33."

"thought so." A grin took up the corners of his mouth, As he sat down on the bed, and leaned his head back onto the pillow. "So, Redemption, huh? Do go on."