Chapter Twelve

"I am angry because of my father. I can hold a grudge like a hand."

Soldiers, warriors— the average innocent civilian caught in a battle they didn't belong in —who had lost limbs always spoke of Phantom Pains. Arley had heard tired soldiers speak of a throbbing pain that couldn't be there because their limb wasn't there any longer and back then Arley had never understood.

How could she?

And yet now, out of breath as she and the others took refuge in a rundown down and condemned Salem, Massachusetts movie theater she did understand them. Because Arley, as she thought of the way green light— it was familiar, it reminded Arley of the light the Central Battery on Oa would emit —had enveloped around her she could have sworn her ring was humming.

The same way it would when it was alive and powered; but that was impossible.

Because her ring was dead. It had been for years. And yet in that moment Arley would have sworn that still felt sparks shooting up her arm, she still felt the thrumming of her ring against her finger.

Phantom pains if only because of the gut-wrenching nostalgia the imaginary feeling brought about within her.

"What the hell happened back there Arley?" Superboy snapped as he leaned against the arm of one of the movie theater's seats.

Arley opened her mouth to answer only to pause because she didn't know. One moment Nabu and Kent Nelson had been threatening to keep her captive and the next she was free.

Arley looked down at the Helmet of Fate in her hands. She couldn't put it on, not when freedom from Nabu's grasp wasn't guaranteed. Arley then looked up at Superboy and then Dubbilex and M'gann and knew they'd never allow her to put the Helmet on if she told them of Nabu's threat.

And yet she had to. Because Klarion needed to die and if any of them should lose their life— if any of them be kept under Nabu's thumb for an eternity —it was her. None of them had lived; Arley had, and she'd made a mess of it, but them? They could have lives. They could live the the kind of life Arley could never even dream of having anymore.

The kind of life she hadn't been able to about having years ago either; they could live long— happy —lives. She couldn't; not anymore.

"Kent Nelson tried some shit, he wanted me to deliver the Helmet—"

"—You're lying," Dubbilex chimed in. Arley blinked.

"What?" The former Lantern shifted her weight, "What have we said about boundary's Lex?"

"I'm not in your head, Arley. The light in your eyes, it goes out when you lie. You also twist the right corner of your mouth inwards. I've noticed that over the past few months."

"Oh." Arley looked away and M'gann stepped up, she placed her hand on top of Arley's.

"Arley," the Martian said softly, "What happened?"

"I-I don't know, honest. One minute I'm talking to Nabu and the next there's a light. Knocked all of us on our asses."

"Who's Nabu?" Superboy wondered.

Arley held the Helmet up. "Meet Nabu, Agent of Order and Vandal Savages' son."

The three non-humans straightened at that; "Are you telling me we're counting on Vandal Savages' son for help?"

"Oh yeah," Arley nodded. The hum she had felt coming from her ring had died down but the sparks— the tingles she could have sworn were there —she had felt shooting up her arm, reminding her of a better were still there.

"No way," Superboy shook his head, "We're not counting on Vandal Savage's son."

"We kind of have to," Arley replied, "We put all our eggs in this basket and it's what we're going to have to work with."

"And what if he betrays us?" Superboy shot back. Arley thought back to Nabu's threat and twirled the Helmet in her hands. The threat of betrayal was real; the threat of being trapped again was real.

Arley could practically feel the shackles around her wrist again.

"We don't have another choice. Look I'm happy about this, but we bet on Nabu and now we have to hope we didn't bet wrong." They started this plan knowing they'd only have one shot at taking Klarion down; the magical community was small and Kent Nelson would be running his mouth wondering just where the Helmet of Fate was, meaning before the week was up Klarion would know they were coming for him.

"This seems risky," M'gann worried, and Arley smiled at her. It wasn't a large toothy grin, but rather a dark, half-smirk and had the Martian girl grimacing.

"Look Megs, just trust me okay?"

"You know I do," M'gann replied softly.

"Awesome." Arley raised the Helmet, she looked at her three companions— and Wolf —and smiled. "I won't be myself when wearing this, Nabu take's control of the driver's seat—"

"—Wonderful—" Superboy muttered.

"—Just," Arley paused, the right side of her mouth twisted inwards, "Catch you guys soon." And then the world went white.

...

"What are you doing back here Lantern?" Nabu questioned Arley. She was once more in front of the large, hovering Helmet of Fate.

"Look you said you'd help me kill Klarion—"

"—On the condition of—"

"—Look!" Arley snapped, she could practically hear her heart hammering in her ears, "I'm not taking you to that kid, but I will, when this is all over, give you to John."

"Constantine?" Nabu asked, "Why would I want you to give me to him?"

It was no secrete to anyone— alive or dead —that John Constantine was a fuck-up, but he was a fuck up who had secured Arley's trust over the past few hours; one, going forward, she would place her bets on.

Constantine wasn't a nice guy or a kind guy. Arley wasn't even sure how good of a guy he was, magic got dark and it got dark quick— Arley knew that much about it —but he was an alright guy. Someone who could be handed a magical artifact and be trusted not to screw up some high schoolers life because a disembodied voice told him to do so.

"Because it's either that and hopefully, you make it to the kid one day, or you get buried somewhere in the desert."

"You're threatening someone who has a lot of power over you, you understand that Lantern, don't you?"

"And you understand I broke out of here less than a half hour ago all by myself, don't you? I'll do it again and then I'll melt you down into a pair of brass knuckles. Got it?" The space that Arley in seemed to shake in anger and though Nabu was nothing more than a Helmet, Arley could just imagine steam blowing out of his ears and nose, the way they did on early morning cartoon characters.

"You swear to me?" Nabu asked, "You swear you will hand me over to John Constantine once this battle is over?"

"On my ring."

"You are the worst Lantern I've ever met."

"Good worst or bad worst?"

"Does it matter?" Nabu asked obviously rhetorically, "The faster we are done with the witch boy, the quicker I am away from you."

Arley nodded at that; she didn't particularly like his company either. "Alright so how does this work? Do I get to ride shotgun or what?"

"Just sit back and relax, Lantern, you'll see shortly enough." Arleys eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest but she didn't argue as the space around her grew dark and her own eyes began to feel heavy. Soon enough it was just as if Arley had fallen asleep in the passenger seat of one of the car she and the others had stolen.

Only this ride just so happened to be her body.

…

Nabu hadn't had a vessel in years. He'd been made to lay dormant for over half a century and yet as he opened his new vessels eyes and found himself standing in a room amongst her allies the fact he was awake once more didn't bring him peace.

Nothing would until the wily witch boy Klarion was dead.

"Arley?" The larger one of his new vessels comrades asked; he had the Krypotian symbol for hope written across his chest.

Nabu felt his vessel's lips twitch under his helmet's mask; ever since Babylonia's fall— and his subsequent death —Nabu hadn't cared much for aliens and their kind. And it seems that was all the Lantern cared for; not one of her comrades were human.

"Guess again, alien."

"Vandal's son."

"Nabu. I am the Lords of Order's champion against Chaos."

"Wonderful job you've been doing." The back of the Martian's hand hit the Kryptoian's chest chastisingly. She then smiled at him,

"Thank you for helping us."

"I am not," Nabu told her simply, "Not only is this my duty, it was Klarion who brought about my death. Your Lantern's offer of alliance was too tempting to pass up."

"That's right," The Kryptonian said, "Our Lantern, meaning when you're wearing her like that you play it safe."

"I'll do what is necessary to bring about order." The alien took a step forward only for the blue one— alien but Nabu couldn't sense what kind, all the champion could read was that the horned creature in front of him wasn't human —to step in front of him.

"Please excuse my brother Superboy, he cares deeply for Arley. As do we all. All any of us want is her safety."

"All she wants is yours," Nabu replied. He didn't need to invoke the memories of his vessel to know that, he had seen her heart to know that it hemorrhaged with every beat; it was a goblet overflowing with love she didn't know how to handle. He could feel with every breath he took that she was drowning in emotions she didn't know how to navigate through. "I should go, before Klarion has a chance to realize I have been activated."

"Very well," the blue skinned creature said. It went to move towards Nabu, only for him to hold his hand up,

"I think you misunderstand. I will go, you will stay here."

"What?" The Martian blinked, "No! We can't just let you take Arley!"

"Of course you can, for she has allowed it," Nabu said. He then looked at the Kryptonian; the aliens' brows were creased and his mouth had been twisted downwards but when his eyes met Nabu's vessels they were ablaze with emotions.

One Nabu didn't have trouble picking out.

"I will keep your Lantern safe but this is something I must do alone, I cannot have any of you distracting me-waking her up because she is worried about you. Having her take control once more amidst a battle could be fatal."

The Kryptonian took two steps forward, past his blue brother and put his hand on the side of the vessel's arm. "I'm not going to Smallville Arley." He then looked up at Nabu into eyes that were not his, "Get her killed and I'll melt your helmet into a frisbee for Wolf."

Nabu nearly smiled. Nearly.

"Of course." He then stepped back; magic coursed through his vessel's body, through his fingertips as an ankh-shaped portal opened into a far off magical realm. Nabu didn't look back as he stepped through the portal; how could he when all he had dreamed of since being chosen laid before him.

…

There lay a land between the mortal realm and the next; there were a hundred different kinds of names for it found among humans, but as Nabu stepped out onto a grassy hilltop he knew names didn't very much matter not when his duty laid ahead.

The sky was made up of a thousand colors all at once, it looked as if a rainbow had liquified; there were no clouds, just one color rolling in after the next, like a sea of split paints.

"But that's boring Teekle," a nasally voice said. Nabu couldn't yet see the witch boy but his hands were already moving, fingers twisting as he readied the first spell; his throat tightened in anticipation. "Can't we just cause another plague?"

Nabu reached the hilltops curve and saw— laying on his back with his hands behind his head and his familiar curled up on his chest —Klarion. Nabu clapped his hands together and a spell shot out, aimed towards the top of the witch boy's head, only for that cat— as always; just as Nabu had suspected it would do —to jump in front of it, shielding the witch boy from harm.

"Teekle!" The cat let out a twisted sound as the spell hit its sternum. It fell to the grassy ground with the closest sound a cat could make to a shriek.

Klarion dove for his bleeding familiar; Nabu, a seasoned warrior didn't bother to take pause at the witch boy's panic, instead he readied another spell and fired. Klarion rolled out of the way.

"What the fuck Nabu!" Klarion snapped, throwing up a shield as he put pressure on his familiar's wound. "Why would you attack my cat! Teekle is innocent!"

"The hell he is, witch boy," Nabu spat as he threw spell after spell against Klarions wobbly shield. "That cat and you are done."

"Done!" Klarion snapped as he tucked Teekle into the crook of his arm, "Done with what? I haven't done anything this time!"

"Your reign of terror. It is over Klarion, once and for all."

"Oh." Klarion's face stretched, his chin got longer and his ears more pointed as his hair curled into what resembled a pair of rams horns. "You're here to kill me." Klarion sniffled as Teekle let out a mewl. It was soft and barley there.

"Hey Teekle, it's okay. It's okay." Once more the cat meowed; Nabu threw spells faster. If he could bring the shield down while the witch boy still had his hands full— but unable to portal out and to the mortal realm —then he would be nothing more than a sitting duck.

"I don't want to," Klarion said softly; far more softly than Nabu ever guess the immortal could speak. Nabu threw another spell and the shield slowly, but surely, began to disintegrate. "Fine, but don't worry Teeks, it'll be okay. I'll fix you right up when I'm done with this sack of shit!"

Nabu didn't respond to the rude call out as Klarion set his familiar down on the ground, he simply prepared himself as the shield came down around them.

Effortlessly Nabu blocked Klarion's first frenzied attack.

"So who are you wearing this time Nabu? It's not that old geezer, is it?"

"No Klarion, it is not." Nabu rolled out of the way of a stream of fire.

"Then who! Just so I can title their gravestone properly!"

Nabu's eyes narrowed; how many vessels had he lost to the immortal over the years? One hundred? Two? The Lantern was his vessel but she was not his— not the way Kent Nelson had been or he hoped Khalid Nassour would be; their companionship was out of necessity, not because it was her fate to wield him —but all the same, he would not lose her.

"You know her as the Green Lantern, the one you helped abduct and torture for years." Nabu sent a cutting spell, one that had originally been made to help seamstress's hem clothing, at Klarion. The spell nicked his shoulder.

"You're kidding me? She's alive!" Klarion cackled; his left hand pressed against his right arm. Blood ran down, dripping past his fingers and onto the grass, staining it. "Your father said she escaped but I thought she'd be in a ditch by now!"

Nabu grit his teeth at the mention of his father; the traitorous monster. There was much he hadn't told the Lantern when Kent and Constantine had been around, like how his father had sold both Atlantis and Babylonia out to Klarion; how the witch boys happenstance hadn't been one of mere coincidence.

How his dead had inadvertently been orchestrated by the same man who had started it.

Perhaps he'd had his reasons back then but even after all those centuries since his death, Nabu couldn't justify what his father had done. It didn't matter if Nabu told himself his father had done it for revenge over a past slight by the witch boy rather than power, the deaths his father had caused outweighed any right to justice or vengeance or whatever else anyone else wanted to call it.

"She's not and she wants you dead, Klarion, nearly as much as I do."

"Yeah? Well bring it!"

And he did. Time moved far more differently than it did in the mortal realm; what was hours for Nabu and Klarion— both of whom were bloody and tired, panting and struggling to stand —would be mere minutes for the Lanterns comrades.

"Give it up Klarion, die with at least some dignity," Nabu panted. His vessel could barely stand, her right knee wobbled with every step; the only reason he stood and walked instead of hovered and flew was because he was exhausted. This vessel wasn't like Nelson, she had never used magic before.

Nabu could feel his magic wearing through— burning —his vessel. The Lantern wasn't a homo-magi, she didn't have the necessary magical points littered throughout her body needed to safely wear him.

"And why should I do that?" Klarion spat. He was on his knees; he'd lost an arm hours ago and one of his eyes had been rendered blind in a late reaction to a light spell Nabu had casted in order to get some distance.

"You have lived far longer than anything else on Earth. Nearly as long as the Guardians my vessel knee's to. Do you not wonder what death is like?"

"Do you?" Klarion snapped back as Nabu moved forward. Blood dribbled from the corner of the witch boy's mouth much like drool would. "You've been in that Helmet for how long? Don't you ever wonder?"

"Of course I do," Nabu said. He, with shaky knees, and arms that felt like lead, took Klarion's chin in his hands. "But I won't die before you."

"Then how about with?" Nabu felt air leave his lungs; he looked down. Klarion had run a sword he'd conjured through the lover abdomen of Nabu's vessel. "Huh? How about it, Nabu?" Klarion sneered as he ripped the sword he'd magically summoned out, "We can go together."

Nabu's knees buckled.

No, a voice said, it was vicious and angry, You do not give up now! You do not let him win! Finish him!

Nabu's grip on the witch boy's chin faltered; but didn't fail. Nabu grabbed Klarion's throat, the agent of Chaos smirked.

"How are you gonna do this Nabu? I might have one arm now, but I am immortal."

"No," Nabu growled, his mouth— his vessel's mouth —filling with blood. "Not anymore."

"What?" Klarion's brows knitted together. Nabu smiled under his helmets' mask; his vessels teeth were stained bloody but victory swelled in his chest as his eyes burned bright with magic. His vessel shook with the power flowing through her but she stayed strong through it.

Despite the fact it had to feel like she her inside were being carved out with a melon spoon.

"Incide ligatos tuos, aurea vincula solve—"

"—No Nabu! Let's talk this out! No!—"

"—Mortalia te constringi sinere." There was no hesitation; no second thoughts— Nabu didn't give Klarion the chance to weasel his way out of his fate —before Nabu burned Klarion from the inside out. Nabu didn't look away as the witch boy screamed as his throat and lungs were set aflame and his eyes were burnt out of his head.

In the end it was a grueling sight— though perhaps the smell of charred flesh was worse —but Nabu didn't care.

How could he, when for the first time since his death, he felt fulfilled.

Nabu fell, next to Klarion; blood seeped from Klarions last ditch effort in surviving. Groaning, Nabu held his hands to the wound; self healing was always a chore and one he had never been very good at but he thought of those aliens he had left behind and he thought of the Lanterns quest to kill his father and, for as odd as the stray thought was, Nabu thought of red hair and emerald-like eyes.

"Sano."

…

"Why does it feel like I got run over by a truck?" Arley hissed as she came too, still wearing the Helmet of Fate, in the space she'd drifted off in.

"Perhaps because you may as well have been."

"That's nice," Arley snorted. She looked up at the image of the Helmet— of Nabu —and crossed her arms over her chest. "He's dead?"

"Yes." Arley nodded.

"Are you still going to let me go or do I have to bust out of here again while feeling like shit?" A rumble echoed across the room; not an angry one but rather one that sounded like a laugh.

"Like you know how you did it the first time, Lantern. No, I will release you as we agreed, I just wanted to talk to you for a moment."

"About what?" Arley's eyes narrowed. She didn't trust Nabu anymore than she could actually pull a rabbit out of her hat.

"I have seen you heart Lantern, I know your sorrows. Your doubts—" Arley shifted despite the action hurt to do so, "—When you hand me to Constantine ask him to search for the souls of those you think you have lost. Much like Kent Nelson did years ago, it will allow you to know. To have some semblance of peace."

Arley swallowed the ball in the back of her throat; she'd know if Wally was dead or if she was just left behind. She'd have an answer.

Arley's pervious nightmare flashed through the forefront of her mind. Was it an answer she could handle?

"Thank you for that, Nabu."

"There is more I want to say to you Lantern. I have enough to fill encyclopedias. Things you must know, things you should know-your fate."

"No," Arley shook her head. "I'm good with asking John for some answers on my boys. Outside of that, I don't want to know."

"You don't want to know how this will end?"

"Will my team be okay? M'gann, Dubbilex, Superboy, will they live to see the end of this?"

"Their fate is not your own."

"Of course it is," Arley disagreed, "They're my people. All I need to know about how this ends Nabu is if they make it out. Me? I'll figure that out when the time comes." Once more the room rumbled due to laughter.

"I cannot tell you someone else's fate, I am sorry."

"No you're not."

Nabu didn't need a body, Arley could tell from the sound he made that if he had a pair of shoulders he would be shrugging them.

"Perhaps not, but before I let you go Lantern I will say this. You are not such a complex being despite the complexities that make you."

"Why does that sound like an insult?"

"It is not, simply, you live by your head when you all your best decisions are made with your heart. Listen to your heart in your upcoming battles, Green Lantern. It will serve you well. It always has."

…

Arley came too in M'gann's arms. Her clothes were bloody and though, despite the fact that her shirt was ripped and soaked with her own blood, there was no wound on her torso. Several different cuts littered her arms and legs though, all of them were bloody.

"Megs," Arley groaned, she saw Dubbilex with the Helmet of Fate between his bony hands, "We gotta get out of here. Before Nelson shows up."

"I know," M'gann nodded, "Superboy is getting a car."

Arley felt her eyes close. She was exhausted.

"That's good," Arley murmured, "Real good." And before either M'gann or Dubbilex could protest, Arley was out like a light thinking only of red hair and an ancient world wonder she had never been to herself.

Notes: Hey guys I hope you guys liked this chapter, and I hoped you liked Nabu's apperance! Feel free to let me know all your thoughts about this chapter in the comments down below!