Tempest: Chapter Seventy-Nine: Good Reason

AN: Thanks for the kind reviews for the last chapter. There was a commenter that actually made me think about an upcoming scene and I know some people are worried about it, but its not going to be the way you think and you're gonna get to see how powerful and dangerous some characters are when they just want to do the right thing.


The bowstring was pulled taut and Amara's fingers ached from holding the position, but she kept having to reaffirm her position, shifting the direction the arrow was pointing in.

"It's better to just fire," Oliver advised. "I know you're not going to be very accurate, we've only just started."

It stung a little, but she knew he was right. She'd fired Roy's arrows from his bows a few times and they'd all been off the mark, but with explosive arrows that wasn't too much of an issue.

She released the arrow and it barely collided with the target.

"Hm, it looks like you're curving your arm slightly when you fire," Oliver considered and Amara sighed.

"Yeah, Roy said that too," she muttered, pulling out a second arrow and nocking it. She drew the drawstring back, compensating for the curve by twisting the bow slightly in the opposite direction and releasing.

The second arrow wasn't as bad as the first, which was an improvement that Amara would take, not really noticing how Oliver was considering her.

"So," he said as she nocked the third arrow and drew the string back, "you're not using your atmokinesis."

Amara startled and the arrow completely missed the target. She looked over to Oliver but his face was painfully mild, not unlike Barry's when he was trying to get her to open up, but Amara couldn't help but tense up.

"No," she said finally.

"Is it for a good reason?"

The question had Amara pausing, mostly because it wasn't the question she thought she'd get. Why, she thought would be the first thing out of their throat and she knew it was a question in particular that plagued Dinah and Kaldur the most. All of her parents were nice enough not to, but they also understood that people had different responses to trauma and Amara had found it difficult to use her atmokinesis after she had been forcibly retired from being Storm Chaser after Merlyn's attack.

But this was different. She couldn't feel her fingers spark when she got angry, she couldn't gather the air around her to float on a formed cloud, she couldn't even call lightning from the sky.

Amara hadn't felt quite so incompetent and weak. What kind of hero going by the name of Storm Chaser didn't even chase storms? What was even the point?

She could say that it was because atmokinesis was what had killed her aunt and uncle and she didn't want to make Wally uncomfortable, but that was really only half of the reason.

Amara hated feeling helpless.

"I…" Amara paused, trying to find away that wouldn't make Oliver pry too much. "I just want to be able to defend myself without using my atmokinesis," she said finally, tiredly.

Oliver considered her as she drew the bowstring taut again. He was sure that was part of it, but not all of it. Amara had never been weak on her own, Dinah would never have allowed that. It could've been a way to honor Roy in his absence, but he didn't think that was it either.

But Oliver didn't question it; Amara's temper was volatile even without her powers in play.

"And someone's got to pick up the slack while Roy's gone," she added and it was relieving that she said it like that, not like he was missing or taken, but like he would be back at any moment.

"You don't think Artemis and I have the arrows covered?" Oliver asked mildly.

Amara was sure that they did.

"What if I want to be a jack of all trades kind of hero?" she muttered to herself, nocking a new arrow.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," Oliver assured her with a smile, "it's just not what I expected from you."

Amara released the arrow and it flew to lodge into the second furthest circle, but at least it hadn't hit the grass like the last one had.

"The first time you met me, I was a ten-year-old recovering from physical and emotional trauma by my biological father and Dinah was looking for an outlet for me to direct my energy." Amara rolled her eyes for good measure, playing with a new arrow.

"And look at you now."

Amara looked up in surprise to meet Oliver's eyes. His smile was fond and eyes warm. Amara looked away quickly, thinking about Roy; even if Oliver and Roy weren't related, there were some looks that were painfully identical and it just made Amara miss Roy more.

"I don't think my…job trajectory is something most people are happy about," Amara admitted slowly, playing with the curve of the bow, a frown on her lips.

"Maybe not," Oliver agreed, still recalling Amara among wiring in the Watchtower, giving her father a bright smile before her eyes shifted to the Hawks who had made it quite plain they considered her a flight risk, a liability.

A spike of pain radiated down Amara's legs from the base of her spine and it took serious effort not to let it show on her face.

"But there's no denying you've done a lot of good," Oliver continued as she fired another arrow.

"Yeah?" Amara grunted. "For who?"

That made Oliver arch an eyebrow. "Playing devil's advocate against yourself?"

Amara paused, a frown creasing across her face. Oliver allowed her the time to consider what was being said, from him and from her. She was struggling with something, he could see it, but what exactly it was remained a mystery. Amara had always preferred to play her hand close to her chest, even before she'd become Oracle, so skittish about talking about her past. Even now, Oliver didn't think hardly anyone knew much about what Amara had gone through with Cadmus or with Mardon.

No one but Amara knew the exact details of that. She had never imparted much, not even to Dinah as her therapist, so, really, the most anyone knew was she had been physically and psychologically abused and had a fear of water that had turned almost deathly after she'd nearly drowned in the Cave.

Except maybe Roy, he had to concede. Those two had been thicker than thieves and were terribly protective of one another…she could've opened her heart to him, he was the only one that she would. Even within the Team, Amara was her own sect, half of a whole that not even Artemis could fill.

"Most of the people I help…the League probably wouldn't agree with," she said finally.

"Well, maybe not, but did you make their lives better?" Oliver asked simply.

Amara narrowed her eyes suspiciously, considering him, and he supposed that no one had ever actually taken that into consideration before, it was mostly about how she'd allied herself with a site that dealt in the darker side of things…though that argument couldn't hold up much longer, since she'd created a new site specifically for Oracle.

"Yes," she said, "but that's not what's important to the League, is it? It's how I went about doing it."

Oliver lamented. Why couldn't Roy be here for this?

Amara started when she looked at the time. "Ah, shit! I promised I'd help clear out Uncle Rudy and Aunt Mary's house!" She ran to grab the stray arrows, shoving them back in the quiver before dancing on her tip-toes to kiss Oliver's cheek "Thanks, Ollie!" and running off just as fast, leaving Oliver a bit bemused.

Oliver was not good with children. By some miracle Roy hadn't turned out terrible and Amara enjoyed hanging out with him and calling his 'uncle' if pressed.

He heaved a sigh. He'd thought about asking Amara about her leads on Roy so many times, but the words died in his throat. She was so busy with heroing and working as Oracle (and occasionally running off to steal from the less deserving, though Masquerade's appearances were fewer and farther between these days), somehow still managing to have a social life, that it would've been rude to do so.

She hadn't smiled as much as she did with Zatanna and it seemed cruel to take that from her.

They'd find Roy eventually, Oliver just had to be patient.


Ariel Dunstan was scared, but that was nothing new. This foster home that she was in was terrible and she'd much preferred the last one to this one, but getting a nice foster home was the luck of the draw and Ariel had gotten used to the yells and the punches.

She was smart, she knew she was, Oracle -Pythia, she had to correct herself- had remarked on that once. Ariel was the youngest of the Oracles on TempleofDelphi, barely ten, but one of her foster brothers had taught her coding as a way to keep her occupied and she'd never looked back. She'd found BlackNet by chance, curiosity getting the best of her, but none of it had interested her very much until she found Oracle's game.

Ariel liked games, and completing it had been more fun than she'd expected. And she'd gotten a friend out of it…kind of. All the Oracles got on well with one another, it was kind of important, but Pythia, the original Oracle, listened to the ramblings Ariel sent her. It was almost like having a sister.

You're going to be better than me one day, Pythia had sent to Ariel without an ounce of regret and Ariel had never experienced that before; someone acknowledging that they would be surpassed or even someone viewing Ariel's coding skills as something positive.

Her teachers never liked how she kept to herself, preferring to spend her lunch in the library, typing away. But Pythia called her a genius and was impressed with how she solved any of the puzzles that she threw Ariel's way.

But puzzles couldn't get her out of this mess.

Ariel's arm was broken and every jolt was agony, especially with her wrists bound in handcuffs. They'd let her foster parents go, even seeing her bruises, her broken arm, taking them at their word.

Bitter anger ballooned inside her, only held at bay by her resignation.

She'd memorized the number Pythia had given her for in case of emergencies, though, and she knew she was allowed one phone call. She just hoped that when they reached the station, she'd actually be allowed to do so, instead of thrown into a cell until they came up with a good reason for arresting her.


They were giving away most of Rudy and Mary's things away, everything that Iris or Wally didn't want, which wasn't a lot, admittedly. Wally's room had been practically cleared, all of his things in the spare room at the Allens, and they'd removed most of the furniture, so all that was really left was going through their material possessions and seeing Wally or Isis wanted to keep or donate them.

It seemed almost clinical to Amara, going through all their things and sorting, and the Team had volunteered their services almost immediately. Artemis and Dick had the job of distracting Wally -not that he didn't know, just that he needed to be distracted from thinking about it- and Iris was at work.

Luckily, Barry had the day off.

"Probably not the most fun you could've been having on your day off."

Her father shrugged. "Things you do for family…it's not like we can keep the house when real estate wants to put it back on the market."

Amara scowled for good measure. Those bunch of vultures. Her aunt and uncle had barely been dead two months and they wanted to sell it off already. She wanted to be understanding about it, but she was pretty much beyond that at this point.

She folded up the last of Rudy's shirts before noticing something on top of the shelf. Now, that wouldn't have really been an issue if she could still use her atmokinesis, then she could've just floated her way up, but not anymore. That was the most annoying part about her hitting a block.

Amara grumbled a complaint under her breath before bracing her back against one side of the doorway, planting her feet on the opposite side, sliding up slightly enough to grab the box there, lowering herself back down carefully, holding the box in her hand with interest.

It was locked. Even weirder…

"Hey, Dad?"

"Hm?" Barry lifted his head where he was placing a quilt into a box.

"What reason would Uncle Rudy or Aunt Mary have a locked box in their closet?" Amara asked, weighing it in her hands. It was light with very little rattling from within.

"Ah," Barry said, "I'd better take that."

"Why?" Amara furrowed her brow in confusion before narrowing in realization. "Because it might be porn? Is that the only thing people lock up?" She scoffed to herself. "Who wants to watch porn anyways, it looks super weird and not fun."

Barry's cheeks were slowly flushed with color.

"Wait, have you—"

"Give me the box!"

"No!"

Amara yelped and tussled with Barry as he made a vain attempt to get the box back from her. It was more of a struggle not to let it show how the move jarred her back, but she managed it. "I'm not afraid of any porn!"

"I can't believe I just heard those words come out of your mouth," Barry muttered, trying to reach the box where it had clattered to the ground, only for Amara to elbow him harshly in the stomach, making him wheeze so Amara could crawl out from under him to the box, stealing the key ring that had once belonged to her uncle as she did so. "Not playing fair," he wheezed, clutching at his stomach.

"Don't be such a baby," Amara rolled her eyes with a light grin, running through the keys on the chain while Barry curled into a fetal position, as immensely amusing as it was. There was one on the ring that Barry hadn't recognized and she slipped it into the keyhole and twisted.

It opened and Amara stared at its contents, brow furrowed before leaning over to swipe Barry's phone.

"You've got your own," Barry responded, finally recovering from her jab. "And you don't know my passcode."

Amara thumbed in the four numbers, unlocking the phone. "I know all your passcodes."

She missed the sigh and shake of his head, taking a picture of the contents before thumbing through his contacts until she found 'Hal Jordan'.

"Who are you calling, now?"

"Hal."

Barry arched an eyebrow. "You hate Hal."

Amara wrinkled her nose. "That's not necessarily true." She didn't hate Hal, she just didn't like him getting in her way, like he had back during the (various) times she'd run off and had taken to wearing a yellow article of clothing -Green Lanterns' only weakness- to deter him dragging her home. Yellow, she had learned, was not her color.

But Oracle had a list of keywords that she scanned BlackNet for, specifications that had been given to her by other heroes. Hal only had one 'Manhunter', which was not to be confused with Martian Manhunter.

"Hey, Barry, what—" came Hal's tell-tale voice on the opposite end, but Amara cut across him.

"It's the spawn, actually," she skated across and Barry's eyebrow twitched, "I've got a picture that you'll be interested in."

"Uh-huh, Amy? If this is about your mom and dad—"

Amara wrinkled her nose. "I'd never send you pictures of Mom and Dad, Hal, I'd just send them to Mom and Harley."

Barry's cheeks reddened. "Hey!" and Hal laughed, no doubt hearing it.

"Hang on a sec, sending, sending, sent," Amara muttered, more to herself than to Hal and there was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Where did you find this?" Hal asked, startled.

"In a locked box, in my uncle's closet," Amara said with a shrug that he couldn't see. "I actually didn't find anything on it across the BlackNet or online at all, so it looks like it's being kept very low-key."

There was an audible sigh on the other end and Amara could just imagine that Hal's weekend plans were shot.


"So, what's the whole deal with 'Manhunters' that don't have anything to do with Mars?" Conner asked and Amara swallowed a bite of her burger.

"Oracle keeps an eye on key words or phrases for certain heroes, and Green Lantern's was 'Manhunter'," Amara shrugged, "apparently they were the first Green Lanterns."

"Huh?" Zatanna sucked of her straw. "There were Lanterns before the GLs?"

"Eh." Amara made a 'so-so' gesture with her hand. "The Green Lanterns are people, the Manhunters were androids, their view of right and wrong was a bit black and white. I think Hal said that the Manhunters were reprogrammed at one point by some rogue to prove that there were a lot of flaws with having an emotionless workforce."

"Oh, I remember that!" M'gann jabbed with her French fry. "It influenced them into deciding that all crime was the result of emotional responses, something that came from organic life…so they decided to remove organic life from the equation."

Conner, Kaldur, Raquel, and Zatanna stared at M'gann. "What?" Kaldur asked slowly. "Kill every living thing on a planet?"

M'gann and Amara shook their heads.

"All the planets in a single sector," M'gann corrected with a shudder, "The Massacre of Sector 666. My parents told us that story when we were small, probably to keep us in line."

"Yikes," Amara muttered, "anyways, most of the Manhunters were destroyed, but some were sent into exile and a couple other Green Lanterns found them trying to inspire acolytes with their beliefs -impressive for androids- on other planets, and I guess one finally made its way to Earth."

"Yeah, but what do we tell Wally?"

"Why do we have to tell Wally?" Amara asked blankly, earning her a lot of stares. "What?"

"You don't want to tell him that one of his parents' was in possession of Manhunters propaganda?" Kaldur asked. It had been little more than a brochure, shoved in with documents like passports and certificates.

Amara leaned forward, eyes steely. "You want to tell the boy that's still adjusting to his parents' deaths that one of them was in possession of propaganda of the enemies of the Green Lanterns, one of which he likes a lot? You do know that he goes to therapy for grief, right?"

Kaldur grimaced but he had to concede the point, even if he didn't agree.

"Oracle operates by her own code," Batman had once told Kaldur when he'd asked, "I doubt there's a hero in the Justice League that deals more with shades of grey than her. Her currency is secrets and favors and sometimes we have to trust that she'll reveal enough of the information she unearths rather than keeping it to herself."

"That's a lot of faith in someone who's left the League twice," Kaldur pointed out, even devil's advocate.

Batman's mouth had twitched faintly. "I can't say that I agree with it because I don't, but she does have good intel. Even so, Robin and I prefer not to need her services unless absolutely necessary."

Kaldur suspected that had more to do with Batman than Robin.

"But she is fairly open about what she feels should be shared, more often than not she comes to us with intel unprompted."

"So, you're saying that she's a wild card?" Kaldur had gotten used to how Amy and Robin tended to run off and operate solo -getting them to work with the Team had almost been as hard as getting Conner to- not to say that they were a risk on team ops, they just had different priorities.

"A bit," Batman had to concede. "But then Black Canary is, too, from time to time; like mentor like student."

Somehow, Kaldur didn't think either ladies would appreciate Batman's words; Amy more so than Dinah.

"Exactly how often do you lie to Wally?" Conner asked, eyes narrowed slightly as Amy stole a few fries from Zatanna who smiled faintly.

Amy shrugged, remarkably unconcerned about her deceitful nature. "Wally trusts me to tell him what he needs to know, when he needs to know it. That's why I left him with my backup laptop when I ran away over the summer."

"Wait," Raquel started in surprise, "you ran away?" Even Zatanna was surprised at that. Even when she hadn't been speaking with her father, it was clear that she loved him very much; why would she run away?

A laugh bubbled out of Amy's throat. "I forget you're new to the whole 'Amy-the-runaway' thing. I ran off when I was ten, that was the first time, but I was trying to chase down Roy after…" She paused, her words faltering as she thought about her partner. She clenched a hand tight under the table and tried to shake it off. "—after he disappeared looking into Lex Corps, but the second time was when Mardon tried to have me kidnapped." Amy grimaced for good measure. "That didn't go over well."

"Didn't you shoot someone?" M'gann piped up, remembering the story.

"Cheshire gave me a gun!" Amy tried to defend herself. "What was I supposed to do? Not use it on the guy who injected me with subcutaneous micro-tracker?" Amy took a sip of her drink. "Freaked out Dad when he got home, though, and saw the state of the entryway and the corpse in my room."

"There was a corpse in your room?" Maybe Raquel was a little too loud with that one and everyone else shushed her, glancing around furtively.

"Only for a couple hours," Amy waved her off. "My shiner healed in about the same time, I think. Flying to Fiji -mostly- was more of a bitch to be perfectly honest. Cheshire tried so hard to kill me, I swear, as soon as I landed, she was like 'time to train' when all I wanted to do was pass out…totally unfair."

Zatanna snorted into her soda. Amy couldn't really complain when she handed people on their asses without any enhanced ability, just the batons in her hands. (Zatanna would pay good money to watch Amy and Robin fight all-out with nothing but their weapons, if she wouldn't combust on the spot)

A phone buzzed and Amy frowned, searching through her bag to pull out the phone Kaldur knew was her Oracle one. "Hello?...Cassandra?" Amy looked and sounded startled. "Whoa, slow down, what's wrong?...They did what?...no, I'm not mad at you, look, just don't say anything until I get there, okay? We'll sort it out, okay? I'll be there in a few minutes."

Amy hung up and slid out of the booth, barely offering Zatanna a hand before she was taking it and following her to stand at her girlfriend's side.

"What's wrong?" Conner asked.

"One of my Oracles just got arrested," Amy ground her teeth together. "This is why I have distrust of authority figures, you know."

"Amy, I don't think that's it," Zatanna said as she allowed herself to be steered out of the fast food joint.

Everywhere Amy went it was like a tornado hit, and Kaldur had to wonder what it was like to live in the center of a tempest where things could go wrong in the blink of an eye.


AN: Ariel has finally made more of a mention! I've talked a lot about her on tumblr, though it has been awhile, and she's going to be an important character moving forward The bit on the cult of the Manhunters was from the comics and it's not really important to the plot, it was more of a nod to lore and it's not very high on Amy's list of priorities; she's more interest with things on-planet or Vandal Savage related, which is fair. Roy's reappearance is still a way's off, but Amy's still thinking about him.

As always: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!