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.

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Warning: The Pool is Contaminated

by Alba Aulbath

---

It all started off with a notice about a day ago from a cop in Philadelphia I received; he was asking for help on a case he was working on. He claimed that there were three individuals who could be potentially dangerous. He suggested that one or maybe all of them were metahumans, and that a woman with green hair was staying at the same house, supposedly engaged to one of them.

He'd sent the names after I said I might come by, but he didn't seem to have a name yet on the woman. Matt Murdock seemed his main concern, a man who was claiming to be blind. The cop said that Matt beat him senselessly. Either this Matt was a terrific pretender, or he was metahuman; that'd been my guess. A Peter Parker and a Scott Summers, the latter currently working at a local pet store. The woman was apparently engaged to Murdock.

The cop also claimed that Matt Murdock wasn't his real name. It was "Vic". He didn't get a last name. Not particularly helpful, of course. Millions of people named Victor.

There weren't any photos. The man said he couldn't get any. I wondered if this case was legal or not, but if it was a real concern, I couldn't have really refused.

Occasionally, Ollie, Wally, and lately since he's back, Hal would call me. I appreciate it, but for a year now I still can't really talk on the phone. Kind of an irrational fear, but you understand why.

I haven't talked to Ray in a long time.

Can't focus on it. It's been a long time. But it's just something you have to keep in mind - things don't get better over the course of a year. Sometimes it gets worse.

I looked over the notes that were sent to me, then stretched a hand to the answering machine. I'll listen to messages, but I never send them.

I listened. People checking in with me. It's nice that some of them haven't forgotten. We tend to forgot others' pain after awhile. It's sad, but it's true.

Wally had left a message.

"Ralph, this probably isn't... Jesus, this isn't a good time, but... I can't put this off anymore. Ted? Ted Kord? He's... he's dead..."

I had that tight feeling in my gut then and I could only recognize letters instead of words on the paper, none of it registering.

"I'm sorry. Look... call me if you need to, okay? I have something to talk to you about and - well, nobody else at the Watchtower looks like they're gonna listen anytime soon. Big surprise, right...? Talk to you later, Ralph."

I wasn't so sure about crying then.

After a bottle of Gingold, I was out to the next flight for Philadelphia.

---

The flight had been okay, except it let me stew over some things. It's been barely over a year since I lost you, Bun, and that's not ever going to go away. You know that, right? I thought 'But Ted's gone, too.' I wondered how long, because Wally said he couldn't 'put it off anymore.' It could have been weeks. Maybe a month or so. Something was going on. I didn't really know what. I haven't been too active since... well, you know.

Ted was smart, though. I know everyone judges him, Booster, and the rest of us because we laugh off a lot of things. Because we, unlike a lot of people, use humor instead of darkness for our weapons most of the time, or for our shtick, our gimmick. Regardless, I knew Ted was one of the most brilliant people in our costumed community. In spite of our commonly seen mistakes, he never got himself killed. Maybe in a coma a few times. Some would call that lucky. I prefer to think that he has some skill, unlike a lot belittle him for.

We teased each other a lot, back then. The JLA, JLI, JLE, Superbuddies, what have you. But we knew the truth under all the 'bwa ha ha's. We didn't always have to say what we admired or liked about each other, because we knew what it was.

At Philadelphia, there had been Nick Bounty waiting for me. He was about six feet tall, needed a shave, and looked overworked - probably willingly. His arm was in a sling and had a few bandages. From being beaten by a man pretending to be blind, no doubt.

A woman was next to him with pink hair that ended in curls, an easy way to catch attention and her bright yellow jacket didn't help so much to tone it down. She was just a bit shorter than Nick, and I didn't recognize her in the least. The way she looked at me then wasn't really all that settling.

"Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man? This is my partner, Wendy Crown."

We shook hands, and the way she smiled still didn't make me feel any better about her. But I grinned back and nodded politely.

"Where can we go to talk about this?" I asked.

Nick gestured for me to follow, and I did. We went into his car - an old Lincoln, dark blue - and he talked. He had the address of the three men. He gave it to me. Descriptions, estimates, his own experiences. He noted that a few days ago, a metahuman with a golden mask meeted with them.

I can name a few with that description. It could have meant that these were easily metahumans, dangerous or no. I could make conclusions, but not without seeing these people myself.

Wendy's lips twitched at the mention of the golden masked metahuman. Something about her told me not to trust her, and I usually trust my instinct.

I said my good-bye and that I'd give him news as soon as possible. It was time to investigate.

---

The house was large and expensive and in a great end of town. There was a red Volkswagon beetle parked outside, brand new. Too clean to have been used very long. New tires, the whole works.

They were home at the time, but I decided I could sit and watch for awhile. I might be a goof, but I could do a job, too. From what I had been told, they barely left the household, so there was no way I could have just snuck inside. I'd have to wait.

I looked in the windows when I could. I couldn't see much with the curtains in the way. A redhead, a brunet, and a black-haired man. And I thought there was a fourth man, but it could have been just be the same redhead. It wasn't easy to tell. And there was a green-haired woman, definitely.

But I knew that hairstyle.

It would have been pointless to be quick to conclude. Still, if this was supposed to be a green-haired metahuman, I could make three guesses and the first two wouldn't have counted.

I could have watched for hours and nothing would have happened, but I kept on watching. I knew what I had to do.

Fortunately, it had been a half hour of waiting and watching of what little I could until one of the residents stepped out. Red hair, but it'd been dyed. A decent shade, but you could start to see some hints of real roots growing in. That, and I knew his face far too well.

Booster. Booster Gold, Michael J. Carter, the Corporate Crusader, and probably a bunch of other ridiculous titles we got through the years. Nothing beats Ductile Detective, though.

I didn't know why he was here. I didn't know what was going on, what was up with the hair, why he was living here, but it made a little bit of sense. Bea had to be here, then. But who were the other two?

Booster went down the sidewalk. I didn't follow, I didn't stop him.

Fifteen minutes later, it was getting a bit colder. Fortunately, stepping out was another one. I didn't really recognize him, though. Black hair, shades, cane, coat, and a scar on his face that was put there on purpose. Too clean of a cut. Someone did that to him - presumably. Somehow, he looked very familiar to me. Where? I couldn't place it at the time.

This must have been the man who called himself Matt Murdock. The name his friends called him was Vic. Who knew whatever it really was.

Just as I thought, and Beatriz stepped out right after him. Beatriz DaCosta, Fire. You know, explodes into green flames. Hair's all natural, don't you know.

Vic turned his head, not quite facing Bea. If he wasn't really blind, he was a good actor. "Like to go alone for today." There was something strange about the way he talked; it was rickity and uneven, not quite stable. Might say something for his personality.

"Look, I'm not going to nag you about-" she began. Sounded like Fire, looked like Fire, just might have been Fire.

He shook his head. "That isn't it," he murmured, voice softer. "Just... not right now, Beatriz."

"What am I going to do? Guy's driving me up the goddamned wall." Guy was there too? So, there were two redheads - or, well, one of them was a real redhead. I still didn't know what was with the dye job.

Vic shrugged. "Go visit Michael. Not much for suggestions right now..."

"Well, you're not that creative with outings to begin with," Bea remarked. "Don't be out long. You know he gets all worried. He's such a mom." 'He'? Probably whoever Peter was supposed to be. Tried to think of who it could have been, but nothing came to mind, except for... well, the other option wasn't alive anymore. Maybe Max, but I doubted it. Unless this was another superhero gig he was trying to pull, but he wasn't the worrying type unless it was with finances. Not a heartless guy, but pretty laidback.

There was a little smile on Vic's face. "Will be fine. Be back later." He turned and started down the opposite direction Booster had left earlier. Bea went back inside.

I could probably have figured out whoever Peter might have been no problem. But, from the way Nick talked he was mostly interested in whoever Matt or Vic or whatever his name was. If he was a metahuman, I couldn't figure who unless he had shifting abilities, and I doubted this was J'onn I was dealing with. He would have noticed me right away. You can't hide much from a telepath.

I stretched along quietly, stepping onto rooftops. I could stretch to over a mile if I really pushed myself, so it was no big deal to go at it like this.

The way Vic walked, if he was faking it, I noticed he took great practice. He tapped the cane in no real beat, his head leaned back and depending on his other senses.

A broad, stone set of stairs was his destination. Up the steps, and a path leading two ways: a park - more or less; it was more like a field with benches and trees and maybe flowers during summer and spring - and a cemetary. He paused, tilting his head, then turned.

I didn't think he'd go to the cemetary, but I followed.

He was there for a few minutes, staring down at one grave. I couldn't read what it said from my angle at the moment then. After about ten minutes, he left.

I went to check it out. It said "Aristotle Rodor". It wasn't a name I recognized, but I'd be sure to look it up.

Vic kept walking, I kept following. It didn't look like he had any specific destination for awhile. Wandering. But, he probably knew this city better than I did.

Eventually, he took entry into a restaurant that wasn't very complimenting. I could have said he didn't know better due to his blindness. But he did know better.

Stretching over, I slipped inside to follow.

It was a very quaint little pub inside, sort of a strange homeliness feeling to it. Worn and nothing new, but it was warm. Not like there was much of a competition, considering how cold it was outside. Without much trouble in spite of his blindness -- whether or not it was real -- Vic found himself a seat at a table. It almost seemed like he was waiting for someone, as I sat and watched. But no one came.

All he had was tea -- it was Black Chai, I noted to myself -- and after a half hour, he stood up after he set down the appropriate bills, which I stared at. You could be sure that my nose twitched. Vic started out of the pub.

His cane bumped against my shin before he made it to the door. I was almost sure it was on purpose.

"So sorry," he apologized, voice soft.

"Not at all."

Vic tilted his head, not quite facing me. "You have a very familiar voice. We wouldn't have met anywhere before, would we?"

"I doubt that," I responded assuringly. "I'm pretty spot on with faces."

"Is it always a face you have to know?" Vic seemed to muse. "You're not from around here."

"You sound pretty positive of yourself."

"Because I know I haven't heard your voice before from this city." Vic turned. "Pardon; I should be heading home."

I watched him walk out, and I stretched after him before the door shut closed.

Shortly after he was outside on the sidewalk, a man in vibrantly colored furs and feathers was running down the street with apparently dogs and cats and other assorted typical pet animals right after him. He was screaming out, "The Beastmaster shall RULE YOU ALL!"

Vic's lips pressed into a flat, tight line and he cane stuck out a little too far.

The Beastmater -- as I learned, later, was what he really did call himself -- tripped and flailed over the cane, landing roughly on his face. The animals all stopped, surrounding the man.

"Beastmaster, eh?" Vic smirked faintly. "You wouldn't have anything to do with a robbery of a pet store, would you?"

The man in furs struggled back to his feet, then turned to glare at Vic. "All beasts shall be ruled under me! It was not robbery, but freeing them!"

"And robbing their free will while you're at it, no doubt."

Beastmaster sputtered, and looked ready to bark out something, whether it was a command or a remark, then spotted me behind Vic. "YOU! You must be... what was it... Dr. Fan-plastic?"

"Usually, I might be offended that a villain doesn't recognize me, but I've mellowed out in my career," I chirped, voice happier than I could have been. Stretching out an arm, it wrapped around Beastmaster completely, then I clamped his mouth shut.

"Famous, are we?" It was Vic, still not quite turning to look at me.

"You could say that." I couldn't hide a little bit of a smile. There were fonder days behind me, and I still thought of them. Memories cause some in grieving pain. They're, to me, inspiration.

Nodding his head, Vic said, "You don't sound like Plastic Man..."

"I like pants, anyway."

"Ah. Now I know. Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man. Not much competition for the stretching variety." Vic turned around, feeling for the door before he stepped back into the pub. "Be back shortly. Should call the authorities."

---

It may have seemed like it was a mistake to let him know that it was me -- if he didn't know to begin with, anyway. He played being blind very convincingly, but I was already positive that he wasn't. Just a very, very good actor. It was no wonder that Vic deceived the rest of the police force.

But it still didn't confirm to me who he was. What was he doing with Booster, Beatriz, and Guy?

After Beastmaster and the animals were pretty well settled, Vic was already prepared to leave. Stretching over to get in front of him, I said, "Wait a second there."

His lips tightened into a flat line. "Yes?"

"I need to have a chat with you -- hold on tight." I wrapped an arm around him without a single warning, which managed to cause him to make a startled noise. Stretching out my legs, I was able to achieve quite a bit of distance between the crowd and ourselves; I didn't stop until we were settled on a rooftop.

Setting him down, Vic readjusted the fedora on his head, mumbling, "Was that really necessary?"

"Probably not, but it was a darn good way to keep your attention, wasn't it?"

Sighing softly, he asked, "Can I help you with something, Mr. Dibny?"

"I'm going to hope so. Your name's Vic, isn't it?"

I definitely had respect for him. He didn't even flinch at that. "You have me mistaken, Mr. Dibny. My name is Matt Murdock--"

"You do realize that's a name from a comic book, don't you?" I responded wryly. "And, you're not blind."

"Before accusing, you should know that I have documents stating otherwise."

Folding my arms, I shrugged. "Forgery. And, when you paid for your tea earlier, your dollar bills weren't folded. The blind have a way of folding them to recognize the difference between a five dollar bill to a ten. Also, Booster and Beatriz -- to my knowledge anyway -- don't know a blind man named Matt or Vic."

"So you know who they are." His voice was no longer soft and pretending to be friendly. It immediately sounded off-kilter, unsteady. It also sounded more honest. "How long have you been watching us?"

"Not that long. Couple of hours," I admitted. "I saw Booster step out and Beatriz talk to you."

"And so you really don't know..." His voice was soft and apologetic.

I raised a brow. "Don't know what?"

"It's nothing. You really should go back home, Ralph." Vic shook his head. "You don't want to be caught up in this business."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Take my opinion. Their worlds have already turned over. As I understand it, so has yours. I'd rather not push it with you." He paused. "You must be working with that detective... Nick Bounty."

I nodded. "He thinks you're a metahuman menace."

A faint smirk showed up on Vic's face. "I wouldn't really call myself a metahuman. Nor a menance, not necessarily... I'm not a danger to innocents."

"Are you their friend? I mean. Booster and Beatriz's."

Vic paused, then nodded. "...I would think so, yes. We are."

"Who's the guy going by 'Peter Parker'? I don't think I saw him."

"I'm afraid that's a mystery I'll leave to you, Ralph. I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." He turned his head away. "Can you put me back down to the street? I have to go home."

Taking him back down to the street, I had to ponder. Why didn't he want to me to know? Why wouldn't I believe him?

He was strange. Smart, no doubt. But definitely strange. I couldn't recall for the life of me of any instance where Booster, Beatriz, or Guy would have known someone like him, save for maybe Batman. And that was no Batman.

He was someone else entirely.

I decided I had to stew over this.

---

It was a day to spend on research. I had enough clues, I decided, to try to figure out just who the hell this man named Vic was. Just a first name. A first name, and someone who knew a dead man named Aristotle Rodor.

I checked out Rodor. A brilliant scientist, and part-time philosopher. He used to teach at a college in Chicago, but had a home outside of Hub City. After stopping his job as a college professor, he moved to Hub.

Made some notes, compared them to others I had. Rodor taught at the same college that Dan Garrett had. Garrett, who was also a college professor to the late Ted Kord.

It was a connection and no coincidence, but what did that make Vic? Possibly someone who could have known Ted. But how? They'd never been classmates. I double checked that.

There was a point in time, I looked, where Ted had started his Blue Beetle career in Hub City, even though he was a Chicago-born man. Around the time he started, there'd been varying documents of a no-faced man in Chicago.

And somewhere along the way, they'd switched cities after a few partnering cases.

At that same time, there'd been a man named Vic Sage -- his birth name was actually Charles Victor Szasz; just how many names did he have for himself? -- who started his career as a journalist in Chicago, then moved back to his hometown in Hub City.

A connection for sure.

That man was no doubt Vic Sage, and the same faceless man who'd teamed up with Ted. Also known as the Question, who'd teamed up with Green Arrow -- Oliver Queen.

Vic Sage, who'd been fairly close to a man named Aristotle Rodor, who was born in Philadelphia.

It was an interesting cycle going. Professor Rodor had created a material called pseudoderm, meant to impersonate skin and act as a bandage. It was also very effective as a mask, I didn't doubt.

So if Vic was a friend of Ted's back before even Ted's League days, what was he doing in Philadelphia with Booster and the others? Maybe he'd gone to meet them, sure. Vic probably heard about what happened, or found out on his own if he was as obsessive as everyone claimed he was.

Why did they have different names? Why was he pretending to be blind?

Who was Peter Parker supposed to be?

I didn't tell Nick Bounty about anything that I knew yet. I couldn't. For whatever reason, they were probably hiding. It made sense; the house they lived in was originally purchased by Bruce Wayne. It explained how they had new identities, fake documents, and anything else they needed to be supplied with.

Why was Bruce hiding them?

I wasn't going to ask him myself. I didn't feel like I could go to the League with this. I didn't feel like I could go to anyone, to be honest. Things had been tense for awhile, but... it felt more tense. Probably because of Blue Beetle. I didn't know how he died, and no one was sharing that piece of info with me.

I was probably due for another meeting with Vic Sage.

---

Third day, and somehow I wasn't surprised to find him seated at the same place, same pub, same drink.

I was certain that it was this time and last time that he had been expecting me to join him. If was any good as Batman, he probably knew I had been following him that time.

I stretched out to sit across from him.

"So, do you prefer Charles or Vic?" I wondered.

"I changed my name officially to Victor. There was only one other that kept calling me 'Charlie'," he mused quietly. "So I'd prefer 'Vic', if you don't mind."

"You knew Ted Kord."

There was that flat line of his lips again. "Mm-hmm."

"Do you know what happened to him?"

Vic's brows knitted faintly. "You don't know?"

"Wally wasn't too descriptive," I responded. Should I have known?

"I don't know if it's my place to say. I find it interesting you desire to talk to me and not those you're very familiar with. Seems to be a habit amongst you."

"I don't think they'd be very comfortable right about this whole thing." I shrugged. "My reasons for investigation have changed, but..."

Faintly, Vic smiled at me and said, "I understand. I haven't told them that you're here. I figure that's up to you. But my suggestion's still the same. You shouldn't get yourself involved in these matters, Ralph. You have enough on your plate."

"...So you know about that."

Vic turned his head down faintly. "I keep tabs on everyone I meet."

I squinted a little. What? "We've met before?"

"I should find it offensive that a lot of people don't remember me. But then, we always go by faces." I was sure that if he was a normal man, he would have laughed. "We met at Oliver's funeral."

It should have been obvious. "You had shades on then, too."

"I have a hard time admitting my emotions," Vic murmured. "Then and now."

"You know about Sue."

He nodded. "I do. ... I'm sorry. There've been far too many losses for all of us. This is why I suggest you turn around, Ralph. I'm not sure if you'll find relief or horror. In your case, I can relate only a little. I have never lost a wife, what was meant to be my other half. But I have lost a best friend. As has Beatriz. As Michael has. Even Guy has lost his fair share of loved ones, though it's often pain we'll never let ourselves admit to or realize. Regardless... you should go home. You've found out the truth of Matt Murdock and those who live with him. You don't have anything else to do here."

"I still don't know who Peter is supposed to be." I wondered then what he had been trying to warn me of.

"And that is a mystery that should keep. ...But if you insist on finding out, know that I've tried to warn you, Ralph."

"Why are you keeping it such a secret?"

"For his sake, and yours. I would do almost anything to protect him and everyone else under that roof," Vic replied gently. "And for you... you would not want to feel betrayl for those left in your life."

The meeting ended a little more sadly than I wanted. Who was he protecting so badly?

The Question had never been too social. He didn't even get along with Superman, and not so much with Batman -- well, most don't get along with the Dark Knight, especially these days. As far as I knew, he'd only really teamed with three, maybe four people tops. Blue Beetle, Green Arrow, the Huntress, and Azrael. Two of them were gone, and another had died before.

Not a lucky guy.

Most of us haven't been lately, either.

What was the mystery?

My nose twitched.

---

Four days in.

I decided to check in at the household.

Wally was wrong.

---

Fifth day. I couldn't understand it. From the sounds of things, Wally knew for sure, was completely confident of the fact that Ted had died. But I saw him. It wasn't much of a disguise, but it would throw off people who wouldn't have known better.

I thought about it, the day before. I thought for a long time, and I couldn't figure it out. Was Batman hiding them? Why was he hiding them? Were they in trouble, and with who? Who could possibly want to hunt these people down? Beetle and Booster were notorious for getting into trouble, sure, but no one would go out of their way to try to find and really kill them, would they?

I didn't know. Just couldn't think of it.

Again, I found myself at the pub, and I suppose I was fortunate enough that Vic had walked in soon after. He must have anticipated for my arrival.

After all, he was a detective, too.

"You saw." His voice was normal for him, but still a little softer, a little compassionate.

"...Yeah." I grinned wryly, but that was forced.

"This isn't a good place to talk, no matter how out of the way."

In my silence, I agreed. Whatever they were hiding from, it wasn't safe to talk in public.

I followed him again to a graveyard, before the grave inscribed "Aristotle Rodor". I knew none of us could ever let go of the person most inspirational to us. Many of us are evident of that.

"He did die." There was no mask, but his voice suggested he certainly was the Question.

"Wouldn't be the first time the dead came back to life," I responded, a bit strained. Death never got easy to talk about.

He nodded. "Yes. But you don't know how."

"Wally didn't give many details, and I haven't looked much into it."

"You wouldn't find anything anyway, save for a few interesting details. I only know, because Ted told me while he was dead."

I had to pause to absorb that chunk of information. "Superman doesn't believe you."

"He only knows that I happen to have the stench of magic, something that makes him feel vulnerable. A fear, and Gods despise that feeling. Regardless... I have the ability to See energy, Speak to cities, as well as the dead. If they so capable. Ted was killed by injustice, and lingered afterwards. He then came to me for help. Afterwards, I discovered a few things. Maxwell Lord was his murderer, and was also involved in Checkmate. You know what that is. He is the Black King, a leading member. They chased me, and were after Booster because he knew there'd been a conspiracy Ted was following." The Question paused. "Are you familiar with the azure scarab?"

"It powered the first Blue Beetle. That's all I know," I admitted. The information he was pouring out... It sounded impossible. There were rumors of the Question's insanity, and I was aware that Superman felt the same about him. It didn't help that the Question could probably hurt him, with whatever magic he did perform.

"It was that very thing that revived Ted. I had found his body earlier, and the League kept it. It completely healed him and brought him back to us... with powers, linked to his emotions. Batman has been hiding us since we got ahold of Maxwell Lord. The League has him currently... for however secure that could be. At least three members of the League are aware of Ted's revival, and Checkmate's involvement. J'onn, Superman, and Batman. It's like they've also informed Wonder Woman, not anyone else. In the Society, they've told only Dr. Fate that I'm aware of. They did informed Beatriz on the account of her insistence, and Guy Gardner in the feeling that he could persuade us to be more cooperative. And that would be the short story, Ralph."

My arms had drooped all the way to the snow-covered ground, and I... it seemed impossible.

Seemed. A lot of things did. But if anything, I was sure that the Question wasn't a liar. A little crazy, sure, he just might have been, but I wasn't given any reason yet to not believe him.

"Ted never told me he was... investigating anything," I said quietly.

The Question looked away. "He didn't tell me either. Not until he was dead. ... It was likely he didn't want to include you, considering what you've already lost. And not me, because my hands were constantly full."

Nobody talked about Hub City. I knew why. In ways, it was worse than Gotham. On par with Bludhaven. It was not filled with supervillains; just the corrupt, and the criminals. Barely any innocent folk left, and those that were would probably be starving.

Not that I'd been aware of that much until I did research on the Question and his origins, best I could.

"Why didn't the League do anything to help him?" That part seemed incredulous. Why hadn't Ted asked for help?

I knew behind his shades that the Question was scowling, lips curled and ready to growl. "He asked Batman. He ignored him. He asked the League. They doubted him. There were only a few who did. Booster, Diana... and it sounds as though Ted is still fond of Oracle, so I shall mention her. Not a long list, is it?"

"But that's impossible. They know him, why wouldn't they help him?"

"I have an answer to that. But it's not one you'll want to hear, Ralph. You're a detective; you should figure it out." The Question shook his head. "I'll be honest. I never liked the League. I never thought the idea of a group of costumed aliens and metahumans and people was a grand idea. Countless times, yes, they have saved the world. But often times, the lesser known areas are forgotten. How well have you looked into my background?"

"Well as I could. You're not exactly a symbol, not even on a third-stringer level, no offense." At that, I could smile wryly. I needed a bit of humor. This was too much to swallow. Question was speaking, as though it'd come with great practice, too often said. Too often ranted.

"And you know of Hub City."

"I know enough," I admitted.

The Question nodded. "It's been dying for over a decade. Not as long as Gotham, I'd wadger. But it's deteriorated faster. It doesn't have a family protecting it. It doesn't have enough people to care. It doesn't even have a man in spandex doing his best. Not anymore..."

"Beetle started there."

"He did. He thought he could pick it back up to its feet." His tone lightened. "He thought he could rescue it. But after a team-up, I saw something different in him. He was tired. It was already getting to him. I told him to leave... and not look back. What I've become... well, it wasn't a fate I wanted for him. Because he's not Batman. Because he's not me. Not a Nightwing, or a Superman. He never was, never could be. And that's... what makes him human, not wishing to be a God. And I didn't want Hub to take away his humanity. ... Regardless. You know what kind of place it is. And it's something ignored."

I realized, then. "You don't like the League, because they never tried to save Hub City."

"...I don't like it when self-proclaimed heroes ignore a problem. It was in my hands. They ignored Hub. And they ignored Beetle. I don't like ignorance." The Question lifted his head. "But I know ... that, even though he's angry, Ted still cares for them. As do the rest. They were never my family, of course."

I did smile a little. "I know they made a few mistakes, Vic. Big ones, to boot. But don't you think they're also hurting for it? It might not seem like it from your point of view. But Batman's helping hide you all. They haven't told anyone about any of you. They're protecting you."

The Question made a noise. I don't think he agreed with me.

"I'll respect the fact that you don't like them. Not everyone does. But, believe it or not, they're human too -- you know, emotionally, I mean some are aliens and stuff. They have made mistakes and that shows it."

Turning his head away, he still didn't seem convinced. I shrugged.

"You should still go home, Ralph. There's nothing left here for you."

"You're wrong about that." I sighed. "Definitely wrong. Back at home, I have less. I have more things I can do here than I can do there. I have friends here, Vic. They could use me, and... I could use them."

Quietly, he took off his shades. His contacts gave a blind eye effect, but he was still looking directly at me. "...I still suggest otherwise. But... I think it'd make them happy."

There was definitely a smile on my face, as far as I could stretch.

---

That night, fifth night, I walked with Vic all the way back to his home. He assured me no one else followed us, and I reassured myself with a few quick stretches.

Inside, I was sure that it was a great surprise to everyone. An unannounced reunion of the Superbuddies, or J.L.I., or just friends.

But there was an undeniable amount of bad jokes, "bwa ha ha ha"s, and maybe some tears.

They say the death of a loved one causes a hole in your chest that you ache to fill.

I think mine got a little bit more full.