Bonds – Part 3
- - - September 28th - - -
"But then my maple mine exploded, and nobody was able to move except Robin, you see? And he was still too far away from Aqualad with the rest of the spoons, and they only had a few seconds left before I would have simply won. So guess what, he asked Superboy to throw him towards the lagoon! Because Superboy could still move his arms, right? And he did!"
Zatara took a long sip from his coffee. He had just walked into the Watchtower's cafeteria, where Captain Marvel was excitedly telling some story to Green Lantern Hal, Wonder Woman and Green Arrow.
"So Robin flew through the air, he flew, and I swear he did two somersaults before he landed, right next to Aqualad! So now they finally had all ten spoons together, and Aqualad did the binding, and threw them back at me, and by then Miss Martian was allowed to use her powers again, so she slammed them right into my chest with her telekinesis, half a second before I was able to defend myself. You should have been there, it was the totally amazing. Two somersaults!"
The magician met the other League members' eyes. "What is he talking about?"
Dianna and Green Arrow just shrugged, apparently just as clueless as himself.
"It's a game we used to play with the boy scouts", the Green Lantern explained. "One team tries to smuggle a certain number of spoons to a safe spot, the other team tries to intercept and steal them. They changed the rules a bit, but its a great game all in all."
Zatara nodded slowly. That did sound like a nice harmless training exercise. Maybe he should let his daughter visit the other teens after all?
Captain Marvel surely seemed to hold them in high regard, he had even volunteered to act as their League supervisor for a second consecutive week. They had started taking turns since Red Tornado's abduction...
A mental knock interrupted his darkening thoughts.
'Zatara, if you don't mind, would you please join me in the upstairs meeting room for a moment?'
He excused himself from his four companions. "I will return shortly. Apparently, Martian Manhunter wants to talk to me."
A gleeful smile spread over Green Arrow's lips. "About that…", he began.
Wonder Woman's elbow nudged the archer's side. "Don't spoil it."
Zatara raised an eyebrow. Neither of his friends cared to explain their cryptic remarks.
With a sigh, he turned towards the stairs.
He had wanted to talk to the Martian Manhunter anyway. Zatanna had practically begged him to finally meet J'onn's niece, she was desperate to get to know another girl her age with special powers. Zatara wanted to ask the J'onn's opinion on whether or not he should bring his daughter along to Mount Justice when he took over the team's supervision next week.
Zatara opened the door to the smaller meeting room on the watchtower's second floor with one hand, still holding his coffee in the other.
He almost dropped the porcelain cup when he laid eyes on the Martian.
J'onn had turned blue.
The Martian's eyes were still shining in their customary crimson, but his skin was coloured navy blue instead of green.
Was he ill? Was this another invasion from a magical mirror dimension?
Something tingled at the back of his mind.
Oh dear, had his daughter been playing around with colouristic charms again?
"Do you need me to…"
The red gleam in the Martian's eyes dimmed slightly.
"No, thank you, Zatara, I do not require assistance. Please do forgive my unusual appearance. I happen to have... lost a bet."
Zatara exhaled slowly. That was actually a pretty plausible explanation. He still remembered the time Captain Marvel had been forced to wear a metal suit of armour for a full week after loosing a bet against the Flash. Allegedly, that had been a punishment for making fun of the first Flash's winged tin hat...
"I am required to remain a Blue Martian until I have met every single member of the Justice League once", J'onn elaborated, crossing Zatara's name off on a sheet of paper. "Would you mind sending up Hawkwoman next? I believe she has just entered the station."
Zatara nodded, trying hard to maintain a serious expression. "No problem. Just out of curiosity though…"
"I am not at liberty to disclose any details", the Martian stated.
Zatara bowed his head gracefully, hiding a smile.
Nothing stayed secret on the Watchtower for long. He was sure Green Arrow and Hal had at least heard a rumour by now. Who would make a bet against a mind-reader in the first place? Usually, the Flash would have been his first suspect, but he would never have let the Martian get away with hiding in an unused meeting room like that. Could Superman have been involved?
Life never got boring with the League…
Kaldur had grown so used to spending time at the cave with his team mates that he was actually surprised to find them absent.
"It's Tuesday afternoon, so Megan has cheerleading practice, and Conner usually stays with her", Mary informed him, carefully inserting a bookmark into the magazine she'd been reading. "Robin and Artemis are in Gotham today, Wally in Central City, and Captain Marvel won't check in for another hour or so."
She was lounging on one of the common room's couches, her back reclined against an assortment of colorful pillows, a fuzzy blanket covering her legs. With a contended smile, she gestured at the sturdy blue tea pot standing ready by her side, accompanied as always by a faithful little sugar bowl and a small white jug of milk.
"Would you like some tea?"
"I don't mean to intrude…"
She shot him a stern look, brows arched sceptically.
He smirked in response. They were long past that. "Let me just get a second cup from the kitchen."
Moments later, he settled down on the couch beside her, steaming mug in hands. Black tea, no sugar, certainly no milk. The little white milk jug ignored his contemptuous glance haughtily.
"What were you reading?"
"Just a leaflet about the Metropolis museum. Did you know they have twenty-five individual exhibitions, all in one building compound?"
"I did not know that."
"There is even a rather famous one about pop culture. I think Megan would enjoy that."
He blew softly over his cup to cool his beverage. "You knew about her and Conner, right?"
Mary nodded with a smile. "Do you worry their relationship could affect the team?"
"It might, especially if they break up again." He shrugged. There was nothing he could do about that. "Right now, I am more concerned about Wally. He made his affections rather clear…"
She chuckled. "I'm rather sure that particular problem will resolve itself with time. Give them another two or three months."
"Them?"
She only smiled at him.
"You don't think…?"
Her broadening grin was answer enough.
"Well, then." He could certainly understand the attraction. Fighting side by side did form a special bond, and a courageous warrior could easily capture her companions' hearts...
He tried to stop his thought from drifting back a certain alluring red-haired battle mage.
"Who was he?", he blurted out instead.
Mary tilted her head, a question in her eyes.
He instantly regretted his bluntness, yet hadn't he laid his own heart bare to her as well?
"The one who didn't say 'no' to you", he explained.
A shadow crossed her eyes. She pulled her blanket up around her chest.
"Are you sure you want to hear that story?"
He nodded. "Only if you don't mind, of course."
"It's not a secret, I already told Robin. His name was Henry."
She sighed deeply. "He was a French doctor, from Paris. Older than me, of course, but ever so charming. I thought I'd be his wife..."
And she told him the tale of a brown-haired country girl from England, barely sixteen, who thought she knew the world because she'd worked for two years in a big house in London. When that house was bombed out, the girl found work at a voluntary hospital in a small town due east of the big city, training to become a nurse.
The tale featured a charismatic young man from France, an aspiring doctor who'd just turned thirty that year, and didn't like to be alone.
It had all started with stories. Tales of his youth in Paris. Enthralling recounts of concerts, exhibitions, of fancy cafés where famous poets argued with each other over their cappuccinos, of bars where the bands played all night. The roaring twenties. There was music in the air in Paris, he would say.
Then he told her about his studies, his travels, the famous institutes he'd visited.
He also told her how he had finally come to England, and gotten stuck here, because of the war.
He had never meant to stay at that small-town hospital. He would return, once the war was over, to one of those grand places full of life, far away from the death and destruction and the bombs.
While the girl learned to suture wounds, to clear shrapnel, to cut and staunch and saw, he told her of his dreams.
He would live in a big city, a heaven of art and culture, a place so renowned that foreign dignitaries would come to visit just to be able to say that they'd been there. He would work there, at a famous institute, and be rich enough to sit at the fancy cafés and dance at the bars that never closed at night.
Maybe she should come with him, he would say. A man could always do with such a resourceful woman by his side.
He never quite said wife, but of course that was implied.
He promised to show her the world.
To show her Paris, once the war was over.
And she believed him.
Until, one morning, he was gone. He had found a ship that left England, and another pleasant brown-haired country girl with a bit more money to finance their journey westwards, escaping the bombs.
And she was was left alone, on the first of May 1942, one week before her eighteenth birthday.
On the first of June, a Dr'uk spawning pot landed, and the rest was history.
Kaldur had finished his tea. Very carefully, he set down his empty cup near the sturdy blue tea pot on the small side table. Then he pulled Mary into a hug.
She leaned into his embrace. "I was a bit of an idiot", she mumbled against his shoulder.
"He was a bit of an ass", he replied.
A small snort escaped her. "Yeah, that's always a bad combination."
"You deserve better."
"Thanks Kaldur. I know." She pulled back, meeting his eyes. "Back then, I always thought I'd marry him, have his children, be his wife. That was all there was to my future, you know? But look at me now! I've got the most interesting job in the world, I'm learning so much every day, I'm even getting my own driver's licence! I can actually be more, on my own, than just someone's wife. I'm still figuring things out – going to this museum alone is still a big thing for me, navigating public transport and all that – but I'm getting more independent every day."
She wiped her eyes, smiling at him bravely. "With all that's happened, I'm finally starting to realize that I don't need someone to show the world to me. I might just go and explore it on my own."
Somewhere in western Nebraska, three metal bodies lay in a dark corner of an abandoned factory.
This was the third day they had spent hidden motionlessly underneath a pile of leaden pipes, waiting.
They had arrived here with a slow freight train, clinging onto the undercarriage of a lead-lined container transporting nuclear waste westwards.
A few hours after sunset, the largest of the three bodies finally stirred.
"It is time", he announced impassively.
The other two followed him onto the edge of a dark platform on the factory's second floor, overlooking the railroad tracks. From here, they could easily drop onto the next train that passed. All three folded themselves into a crouching position. The smallest figure pulled a large black tarpaulin over their bodies, hiding their bright red and yellow markings.
Whatever their destination might be, Red Tornado's captors were making dead sure that they were not being followed.
Author's note:
As always, reviews are highly appreciated! I bet this wasn't the untold story you expected...
A note on language and spelling: I am quite aware that the French version of the guy's name would probably be Henri, but I'll just claim that people in Britain generally misspelled it with a y and he never protested, that lazy jerk.
Overall, I've been consistently using a British spellcheck for this fanfic, as you've certainly noticed ("colour" rather than "color", "artefact" rather than "artifact" etc.). It feels like I've missed an opportunity for not playing more with the different accents, but I'm not an English native speaker and just didn't feel skilled enough for that. I did have Mary ask for a handkerchief in one of the earliest chapters and Robin proceeded by handing her a paper tissue, but that's about all... (Drop me a line if anyone actually noticed that!)
Also, I totally failed in building in more of Robin's asterous word-creations in the beginning of this story - don't despair, I will feature them as best I can once he finally starts interacting more with Tanna! :)