Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:
Don't own any of these characters. Never will. Wish I did. Major spoilers for "Countdown to Infinite Crisis". Good idea to read the comic first. Also, spoilers for the Question six-issue miniseries.

Much kudos to Kiffie with some of the scene ideas. The chapter seems a little... plotless, but hopefully the series of events are amusing.

Warning: The Pool is Contaminated

by Alba Aulbath

It seemed as though, as much as he would have liked to have stayed inside, it was not something that Ted was capable of all the time. Though he did go outside due to the Question's insistence to train himself into controlling himself and his powers - his emotions had a bit of an effect to breaking something without his meaning to.

It was about five days after the Psychopomp crisis had been taken care of. Vic had been looking more and more tired than usual, but sad nothing about it. This concerned both Blue Beetle and Booster Gold, yet the Question refused to have anyone worry about him.

This day, Vic slept in. Which was definitely not normal.

This led to Ted reluctantly stepping outside instead of just waking up the Question.

The day after they moved in, they immediately had found their roles in the house. Ted? Stayed inside. He read a lot. He slept a lot. Ate sometimes, watched TV sometimes. He stayed disconnected from the world. Booster Gold? Booster was Booster; once a slacker, always a slacker. He did nothing particularly productive around the house; he did himself some good at times by taking a walk outside with Vic, but that was about the extent of it. Vic, on the other hand, at least did something outside other than make Ted train himself; he decided he wanted to take care of the flowers.

Nobody stopped him.

It was today that Vic had slept in, and Ted decided he'd at least give himself a shot at having a green thumb.

With his glasses on - no necessity, all part of the disguise and all - he found work gloves and peered at the garden.

He belatedly wondered what Vic would know about keeping flowers alive. Hm.

"Hey. Got a moment?"

Ted nearly jumped, then turned to find himself facing a very... unfamiliar man. "Uh. I guess... um, can I help you?"

"I hope so." The man was taller than him - not surprising - but somehow managed to look much more lanky than himself, having a stringy beard and a receding hairline that was desperately combed over. "I live right next door to you guys. I never noticed ya moving in until a little while ago."

"Ah. We ... kinda had help." Ted grinned awkwardly.

"Your blind friend takes care of this garden, right?"

"Yeah." Vic had gotten into pretending he was blind, after all. "I don't think he's feeling well, so-"

"Get rid of the garden."

"I... what?" Ted peered at him.

The neighbor repeated himself, "Get rid of the garden. It's attractin' a whole bunch of bugs, and I'm almost damned sure there's a bee's nest in my backyard."

"Look, I don't know how probable that is - we haven't even been here very long - and besides-"

"Not gonna repeat myself."

Ted narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you should, because apparently you have no idea what you're saying. I can't get rid of this garden, bub." It wasn't personal attachment, but Vic had been paying it attention. It might have meant something to the Question, after all. Why get rid of one of the things that they could barely enjoy?

"Don't make me get personal - this garden's got to go!" the neighbor snapped at him. "It wouldn't take a whole lot of effort for me to do it myself - so you do it, or I will!"

Like a bunch of bees was this guy's biggest problem. Good lord, Ted couldn't believe how obsessive some neighbors got. "This is my friend's garden, and I'm not gonna get rid of it."

"You don't, and you'll live to regret it - mark my words!" The neighbor turned around sharply, storming away back to his own lawn.

Ted grumbled, rubbing a temple. "Right, whatever..." He turned back towards the garden.

Neither neighbor nor inventor noticed Vic Sage glaring out behind the blinds of a window.

Later in the day, Ted had eventually retreated back inside, cleaning up and peering into the refridgerator for something to eat. Sitting at the kitchen table was Vic, frowning to himself, having an open bag of ramen noodles that hadn't been boiled. He was eating them dry.

Ted did a double-take. "Are you really eating that...?"

"Mmhmm." Vic eyed him. "...The garden. I..." He glanced aside. "Thank you."

"It's all right. Booster wasn't gonna do anything and... well, I guess I needed some fresh air anyway. Just that neighbor - talk about obsessive."

"Don't worry about him," Vic murmured.

"Yeah, I guess so. Look, I know we've only been here a few days, but... it looks like we're running a little low on the food department. Would you mind going out to shop?"

Vic shook his head. "Not a problem. Know where the buses go. Can go shopping."

"Okay."

Blue Beetle nearly jumped as the door was sharply knocked on. "Eh...?" Turning from the kitchen, he hurried to the front door, making sure to put on the glasses before opening the door. "Hi...?"

It was the same neighbor from before, talking quickly, "I'msosorry - PLEASE for the love of GOD don't go near me and nail dead rodents on my door I won't bother you AGAIN!"

"Excuse me WHAT?" Ted stared at him, but the neighbor had already fled.

Dead rodents...?

The brunet peered out the door towards the left where the neighbor had fled, finding a woman - presumably his wife - attempting to undo some nailed in roadkill from the front door.

Ted's brow twitched. He had a good idea who was responsible, somehow.

Slamming the door shut, Ted shouted out, "BOOSTER! VIC! Living room, NOW!"

"Huh? What's going on?" Booster peered down from the staircase.

"Living. Room." Ted's teeth were clenched.

Booster said no more and hurried downstairs to claim the couch.

Stepping in from the kitchen, still nibbling on his dried ramen, the Question took a chair for himself.

Ted, eyes narrowed, folded his arms and looked at both of them. "Okay. I called you both over here because- Vic, pay attention! This is about you!"

"Have done nothing," the Question muttered, still snacking on the ramen.

Blue Beetle was wondering how soon someone was supposed to get gray hairs. "Nothing? NOTHING! You call nailing roadkill to the guy's front door 'NOTHING'!"

Scowling, Vic told him, "Wanted to make sure he stayed away from you."

Holding up his hand, Booster announced, "I'm lost. What the hell is this about?"

At the point of the conversation they were in, Blue Beetle was dragging his fingernails down the sides of his face out of frustration. "I had an argument with the neighbor. About flowers. Vic's flowers. I defended him. The neighbor-"

Vic cut him off with, "Threatened him. Decided to keep neighbor out of the equation."

This caused Booster to squint his eyes, trying to think on that. "...Roadkill?"

Ted was incapable of voicing how much this frustrated him. So, instead, he gave out a great yell.

"ARRRRGGHHH!"

"Should go shopping," Vic decided. "Michael should come with."

Booster eyed the very furious Blue Beetle, then nodded.

Getting out of the house sounded like a very, very good idea.

Philadelphia in the fall was quite possibly gorgeous in the eyes of the common man. The leaves, in all shades of red, gold, orange, brown, were falling to the pavement and decorating everything that touched the ground. The sky was clear, the air was crisp, and it was a bit more chilly than Booster Gold would have liked.

Perhaps 'Booster Gold' was not correct; he was in civillian clothing and had been convinced (other wise known as "forced into, kicking and flailing") to dye his hair a dark red color by the Question. So, while he would have even preferred his birth name - Michael Jon Carter - he was incapable of even this. Fake identities were in order when on the run from a government organization out to kill you because you knew too damned much.

So Batman gave him the identity of Scott Summers.

Still, in his mind, he was Booster Gold, so whatever.

Regardless, Booster thought it was quite cold out, and did not appreciate it.

"Should have brought a jacket," the Question muttered at him.

Booster tilted down the red-tinted sunglasses he'd also been convinced (aka, "forced") to wear to give him a proper pout. "I don't have one since we moved here."

"Should have gotten one while we were out, then."

"I was busy," Booster stressed.

Question shrugged. "Should have been un-busy." He turned his head away.

While Booster couldn't have been anymore grateful to the Question for all of his help, there was still something unsettling about him. Probably because he was crazy, but that was besides the point. Now he had to live with both him and Beetle under different names to hide away from Checkmate until an appropriate time. Supposedly, the JLA or Batman would inform them when.

Frankly, he almost felt a bit sorry for Question in regards to the name thing. The guy already went under three aliases: he'd been born with Charles Szasz, changed his name to Vic Sage, went under the Question while wearing the mask, and now he'd been given a fourth name: Matt Murdock.

So, as a matter of fact, he was pretending to be blind while in public. The Question had gone to the point of wearing contacts that gave his eyes a "blind eye" effect, and sunglasses that were pitch black to give him a true feeling of having no sight. Regardless of that, he still had Sight - that and his other senses aware around him. While keeping his identities quiet from everyone else, he also dyed his hair black, as well as eventually giving himself a scar on the left side of his jaw.

Realism, he called it.

Did Booster mention he was crazy? Yes he did.

At the moment, both Booster Gold and the Question were waiting at the bus stop, grocery bags at both of their sides. All three of them still hadn't gone out to buy a car. It wasn't the lack of funds, but the insecurity for themselves. Beetle normally stayed cooped up at home. Frightened, maybe.

Neither Booster or Question ever pestered him about it.

Blue Beetle had quite possibly gone through the worst of it. Being ignored by the JLA, being shot by Maxwell Lord, being dead and talking to the Question who could hear him due to feng shui and other wacko martial arts abilities, being brought back to life through the azure scarab, being forced to learn magic he loathed, being chased by Checkmate, being forced to deal with life upfront -

That was the way it was.

Beetle had eventually started to grow out some of his hair, mostly around his bangs was it noticable with the lack of care. It wasn't for the case of masking their identities, though. It was mostly that he stopped giving a damn about it.

"I think I'm getting sick," Booster whined, feeling his nose being runny.

"Uh-huh."

"I love your concern for my well-being," Booster grumbled, sniffling. A handkerchief and a scarf was thrown into his face.

The Question told him quietly, "Fifteen more minutes. Can you be quiet that long?"

"Probably not."

"Wonderful." Question turned his head away again, finger tapping on the top of the stick he carried with him. It wasn't a necessity, but he was still playing his part as a blindman.

Booster Gold blew his nose into the handkerchief. "Man, I'm getting sick of hiding like this..."

"I know," Question murmured. His tone hinted he felt similarly.

"I mean, jeez. If it wasn't for Ted, what would they have done, y'know?"

"I can imagine." Question's brows narrowed. "No other choice, though. Not much. Hide, until the right moment."

"Why can't we just hang at the Watchtower?"

The more paranoid of the pair turned his head to frown at Booster. "Been there. Done that."

"What happened?" Booster asked.

"Max. Had Superman crush my ribs. Not fun." Question turned his head away again. "...I understand. Not going to happen, though. Stay put. Stay quiet."

Booster grumbled.

The Question shrugged, as if he understood the incoherent angry mumblings of the blonde sitting next to him. "Not my style, either. Don't like it. But we have to. Rather that, than risk anything happening to Beetle..."

That did cause Booster to pause, and reluctantly agree.

Booster Gold then sneezed.

"Bless you," Question murmured.

It was becoming autumn, and it was becoming cold.

Time had gone by since everything had started with Checkmate. Things had been harsh as they hid away from it all, albeit unwilling on all of their parts. Beetle did enjoy getting a break from the insanity, but he didn't like being forced out of being involved in stopping Checkmate. The concern for his well-being from the JLA was a little late. Beetle didn't like to be bitter about it, but he supposed the Question's furiousness about them - Gods he called them mockingly - had rubbed off onto him a bit.

So while he couldn't do squat about Checkmate, he stayed inside where no one would find him and try to blow his head off.

Beetle had taken to sitting under a lamp with a book - it was called "Shogun" - and reading. It was mostly how he spent his time.

Reading. TV. Eat. Sleep. Panic a little.

It was annoying, but it was his life. While the company of his best friend and ... well, he wasn't sure how to describe his relationship with Question (maybe "crazy monkey's uncle that should be locked in the basement" would suffice), but still... their company had been appreciated and everything, but it didn't stop how uncomfortable he felt about death, life, magic, and everything else.

Beetle hated magic, and now he had to learn how to use it because of the stupid scarab.

Shaking his head, he finally closed the book and slumped over in the couch in a lying position, considering sleep. He'd been exhausted from being so angry about what Vic had done. On one hand, it was kind of sweet in a really twisted way how the Question wanted to drive off anyone who threatened him. On the other hand, it was absolutely crazy what he had done. Nailing roadkill to someone's front door wasn't really one of the most sane things to do, after all.

The front door opened, and a stuffy-nosed Booster Gold complained, "You got LOW-FAT Chips Ahoy, you jerk!"

"Sitting around and eating cookies is bound to make you gain some weight," the Question muttered.

"You saying I'm..." Sneeze. "I'm fat?"

"I'd say 'if the pants fit', but they might not sometime-"

"I'M NOT FAT."

So much for sleep. Beetle placed the pillow over his head, hoping to at least pretend.

However, his pillow had been taken from him by the Question. "Up. Going out back."

Blue Beetle groaned. "I don't really want to do those exercises-"

"Out back."

"I don't feel good."

Question turned his head to eye at him. "You look healthy."

"Well, I don't feel it." Beetle reached for the pillow again, but the detective kept it out of range. "Jeez, just leave me alone, okay Vic?"

The Question seemed to consider it, then he pointed at the sliding doors to the backyard, repeating, "Out back." There was a pause to consider, then he muttered, "Tomorrow morning. Get some sleep, then."

Blue Beetle had felt fine - physically, anyway. He didn't doubt the Question knew as much, but he'd been given leeway... which he appreciated. The inventor reached out for the pillow, but instead the Question tossed it to his face.

"Urf. Thanks."

"Hn." The detective turned and went to the kitchen, to which he'd been greeted by Booster Gold with:

"LOW-FAT POPTARTS! C'mon!"

Later in the day, it had been a bit of a typical time for the Question when he decided he wanted to go for a walk. Most often, Booster tagged along - he had to get out of the house somehow - but considering his vulnerability to the cold and all, he stayed behind to fight off whatever he was catching. Not bothering the Human Enigma, the Question stepped out, dressed in essentials to be perceived as blind.

His route didn't change, not usually. Vic had grown a habit to arrive at the park-cemetary fusion. It was hardly a favorite spot, but it was important to him.

He was distracted today as he peered out of the corner of his eye, Seeing someone following him. No one familiar.

Maybe it was Checkmate. One person, but suspicious.

Blocks and blocks went by as the Question picked up his pace, and the man still followed him, stubbornly so.

It aggravated Vic.

As he came to the bottom of the staircase, he turned sharply. It was in time to trip the man following him with the stick.

"Hello?" Vic played dumb, naturally.

"Eh-heh. No, my bad." The man stood up, brushing himself off. He was wearing a dark trenchcoat, buttoned up with the collar up for either dramatic effect or warmth. "You the one who lives in that nice ol' Victorian down the street?"

"Yes. Moved in sometime ago. With ... friends." Vic hesitated. Were they his friends? They were important - maybe that was good enough.

"Right. Name's Nick Bounty; I'm an inspector at the police departmant. And you are?"

"Matthew Murdock." Vic tapped his finger on the hilt of the stick, impatiently. "What is it?"

"Lady next door to you complained about roadkill being nailed to her front door; I dunno about you, but that's not a normal social call. Neighbors say a dark-haired man about your height did it."

Vic narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure a blind man was perfectly capable of such a thing."

"So you're legitimately blind, Mr. Murdock?"

"I think you're doing some unnecessary questioning, Mr. Bounty. I'm blind and completely incapable doing such a thing; one of my roommates was taking care of the garden and the other was inside with me for most of the time."

Nick grinned. "Neighbors also say they see you taking care of the garden usually."

"Peter showed it to me. I've grown an attachment to it. When one is familiar enough with territory, they don't need sight to know where things are," Vic remarked. Though he wasn't quite sure how believable that was.

"Uh-huh. I'm positive. Well, have a nice walk, Matt." Nick turned and continued down the street.

The Question frowned.

This Nick Bounty was going to be a problem. He would have taken care of it immediately, but... of course, last time, Ted hadn't exactly been too cheerful about it.

Reluctantly, Vic continued on his way.

It wasn't that either of them were particularly good at the game, but it had been better than nothing. After all, Ted had thrown out the chess board sometime ago - he never wanted to play the game again. Sometime after that, Booster had noticed that Vic had pulled it out and went out back with a container of gasoline, muttering to himself. So. No chess.

Scrabble was good.

Ted was winning.

"It's a word," Booster protested. "You know. 25th Century word."

"So tell me, Booster, what DOES 'squixilmelt' mean?"

"It means ... uh..."

Ted eyed at him. The blonde sighed and took the pieces off the board.

"So. I was wondering." Booster hesitated. "How's the, you know... training thing with Question?"

"Crazy. Stupid. But helpful." Ted folded his arms on the table. "Most of what he has to say goes over my head, but... I manage it. He keeps forgetting that unlike him, I didn't train with Richard Dragon."

"He really...?"

"Yeah. Thanks to Lady Shiva. I don't know how Vic's stayed alive all these years, honestly," Ted admitted.

Booster raised a brow. "Luck?" He then went to blow his nose, acknowledging the fact that he was still getting sick.

"I can't say he's lucky," the inventor muttered. "He lived in Hub City for over ten years, struggling to keep it on its feet. He was still there, when I went to see him. I wonder why he didn't give up." Ted paused, then realized. "...I wonder if he gave up now."

"I don't know. I mean, he left to help you, right? This Checkmate stuff is really important. He knows that," Booster pointed out.

The brunet frowned, though. "I know, but I also know Hub City was important to him, even if it was crumbling."

"It's just what he wants to do, I think. It's important enough for him, right?"

"Yeah." Ted paused. The funeral had meant something to Vic; whatever he had said then made enough of an impact on him. He considered. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, your move."

It was then that the window suddenly shattered as the Question jumped through it.

Both Blue and Gold stared in silence.

Vic turned his head, brushing off some glass, watching them.

"Wha... I... you..." Ted sputtered. "Couldn't you have used the door!"

"Forgot my key," Vic told him, then walked out of the living room.

"I AM NOT CLEANING THIS UP!" Ted shouted after him. "Where are you going!"

"I'm hungry," the Question told him casually, going to the kitchen.

Ted held his head. "For the love of..."

"I'm glad Batman's paying the bills," Booster murmured.

Blue Beetle stood up sharply and went to follow the Question. "You can't just jump through the window like that and... and leave it! What's gotten into you! You're putting dead animals onto people's front doors, now you're doing this!"

"The door was locked. Forgot my key," Vic repeated himself, pulling out a jar of peanutbutter and went for a spoon. "Will fix the mess. Hungry."

"Look, I don't really know the kind of world you think you're living in, but-"

"Someone's investigating us," Vic told him suddenly.

"-you can't just... what?" Ted peered at him.

"Nick Bounty. Investigator. Looking into us. Talked to him today. Thinks it was me who 'disturbed' the neighbors."

Ted rolled his eyes at that, grunting. "Wasn't it?"

"Besides the point." Vic waved the spoon in his hand. "Need to be careful."

"Which exactly goes back to my point: don't jump through WINDOWS. You knew we were home! Why didn't you just knock?"

"Didn't want to." Vic stuck a spoonful of peanutbutter into his mouth.

"'Didn't want'... GUH!" Ted threw up his hands, turning and storming away. "Stupidcrazysonofa..."

This reaction caused Vic to consider. Perhaps he should find a replacement for the window.

He glanced outside through an unbroken window, and thought about it.

The neighbors surely didn't need theirs.

It was two hours after the Question's return home. Ted had gone away to his bedroom to grumble and read, and Booster claimed the couch for his resident 'I am sick so let me nap' spot. During this time, Blue Beetle had eventually calmed down to a point enough of being able to go downstairs to deal with his insane roommate. Much to his surprise, the glass that had been on the floor had indeed been cleaned - and the window was mysteriously replaced.

Ted was grateful, but couldn't help but feel suspicious about it considering Vic's behavior.

Going into the evening, the inventor had reluctantly turned towards the kitchen. The three of them had eaten well enough the fast few days, but mostly by eating whatever was instant and could be prepared. They were all certainly bachelors incapable of cooking.

That was what he assumed, anyway.

Stepping into the kitchen, he found himself in a state of surprise, the Question stirring... something in a big pot.

"Uh?" Ted asked.

Vic glanced over his shoulder, then mumbled quietly, "Dinner. Chicken soup. Michael's not feeling well. You mind?"

"Not at all. ...You can cook?"

"When in the mood," Vic mused quietly. "When in the mood..." There was hesitation on his part, as if he wanted to say something - but he choosing not to.

Still, it only made Ted insistant. "What is it?"

"...You. My behavior. It concerns you."

"Well, I don't call jumping through windows and nailing dead animals to people's doors a great way to make people think we're regular guys," Ted remarked. "Vic, I can accept that we're not normal. I don't like it, but hey. I'll accept it. I can't change anything about it. But this... it's crazy. It's bounds of crazy I didn't expect from you, and it's the kind of crazy we have to avoid right now. And... I don't know, it just seems sudden behavior from you."

"Ridiculous," Vic murmured. "Sudden?"

"Yes! Exactly. Five days we've been here. Five days, and suddenly BAM. You're doing crazy shit."

The Question shook his head. "Not so sudden, not so crazy. Want the neighbor to stay away from you. Don't..." He frowned to himself, murmuring, "Don't want anyone to hurt you."

This time, Ted hesitated. "Vic...?"

"Don't want anyone to hurt you," the Human Enigma repeated softly.

"You don't have to worry so much about me."

It was in that moment, after the few days of staying at the house, Vic looked exhausted. There was something on his mind, something bothering him. Something he wasn't willing to voice. Still, he said regardless, "I... worry anyway."

"What is it?"

A pause, but the Question ended up giving him an expected answer: "Nothing..." He turned off the stove and poured a bowl of soup. Gesturing to the pot, he told Ted, "Help yourself." Turning, he stalked off towards the living room where Booster was at.

Ted thought on it. It made him concerned; there was something wrong, and Vic was unwilling to express it. Not that it shocked him with Vic hiding his thoughts, but he would have preferred the Question to be a bit more blatant with his worries. It'd be easier. After all, it wasn't as if they had anyone else; Ted would have appreciated bluntness in the matter.

Sighing, Ted got himself a bowl of chicken soup and went to join the other two for dinner.

Notes:

Nick Bounty is a reference to a terrific online adventure game called 'Case of the Crabs'. It's funny and it has a very B&W noir setting. Plus, I feel wittier using references instead of making up a character on my own right now. Haha.

MORE CRAZINESS NEXT TIME ZOMG.