This chapter was not initially planned. Following the death of my father last November, though, I felt the need to write this. While not planned, I thought the chapter came out well for what I was trying to do. I know it's not the most exciting I've written, but insofar as I'm concerned, it accomplished it's goals.

Please let me know what you thought via review/PM should you wish. The next chapter will be business as usual.

I do not own any DCAU characters, nor the rights to any of the music mentioned.

For what it's worth, I dedicate this chapter to my father, 1956 - 2015.

Something was wrong - or seemed wrong, anyway - with Ray.

At first, few were concerned - a week had passed since Superman's speech, they hardly knew him, and his standoffish attitude could just have been the way he was. Elongated Man wasn't convinced. Alone, though, he didn't know what he could do. After Ray blew up at Wildcat during training, along with almost getting into an altercation with Vibe, the number of those concerned grew.

In the commissary, a group of five heroes spoke their worries and their thoughts, prompted by Elongated Man, or as people around the Watchtower were getting accustomed to calling him, Ralph.

"That first day, he was just fine," Ralph told the group before him. "Something must have happened. He did a complete 180. I barely see him eating anymore."

"And I heard," Stargirl added, "that he asked to be taken off active duty."

"Has anyone actually tried talking to him," Hourman asked, a slight upturn on his lips. "You know, to ask him? It might be better than gossiping behind his back."

"We saw were that got Vibe," Atom-Smasher said. "I know the kid's a bit of a hot-head, but I think he meant well. And Ray just blew up at him."

"I think Hourman's right," Stargirl offered. "We won't get anywhere just talking about it. I mean, we're not detectives. We have to talk to him."

Before Ralph could reply that he in fact was a detective, Ice, normally quiet when not around Fire (who was currently on a mission) spoke up. "Perhaps it's none of our business, though," her voice timid.

"He's our teammate," Ralph said. "If there's something going on, if he's going through something, we have the duty to try and help him."

"If he even wants help," Atom-Smasher mumbled.

"True, but that's a risk I'm perfectly willing to take," Ralph replied.

Just then, a voice rang out, J'onn's voice, from the intercom system.

"Green Arrow, Elongated Man, Atom, and Ice please report to the bridge."

Ralph sighed. "We'll pick this back up later," he stated, eying Ice. "Be back soon, I hope."

"I should probably get back to Pat myself," Stargirl admitted. "So he doesn't freak that I've been gone too long, you know."

"Sure thing," Atom-Smasher replied, his tone conciliatory. "See you later, kid."

She stuck out her tongue at being called a kid, but otherwise left without issue.

"Dude, let's go talk to Ray," Hourman said, looking across the table at his friend, after the others had left. "Remember when Sand was going through that depression a few years back? If we weren't there for him, who knows what could have happened? I don't know if this is the same thing, but Ralph's right; we have a responsibility to find out."

"Butting into someone's personal life isn't something I'm comfortable with, Rick," Atom-Smasher replied, rubbing his forehead through his mask, "but fine, let's go."

Silently, the pair exited the commissary, both in thought, as they walked toward the general direction of Ray's room.

And it took me so long

Yeah, it took me so long

Yeah, it took me so long

To find myself

And it took me so long

Yeah, it took me so long

Yeah, it took me so long

To find myself

Someone to talk to

Hourman looked to Atom-Smasher, who shrugged at the music coming through the door. "At least it's not country."

Rick smiled. "True, Al. True."

He knocked loudly on the door three times. The music stopped with the first knock, and seconds later, the door slid open.

A stoic expression on his face, his helmet askew, Ray tonelessly asked, "How can I help you?"

"We were just wondering how you were doing," Atom-Smasher bluntly asked. "You blew your stack at Vibe, which is understandable, but then Wildcat? Just wanted to check up on you."

"I'm fine," Ray quickly replied. "Thank you for your concern," he mechanically added.

"You sure, man," Hourman inquired. "'Cause if not, you can always-"

"I told you I'm fine," Ray heatedly restated insistently. "Anything else I can do for you two?"

Atom-Smasher sighed. "No. Have a good day."

Once the door shut, the pair walked away just as they came - silently. Had they stood around a second longer, they made have heard both the sound of a muffled cry, mixture of both sadness and anger, along with the continuation of the same melodic rock song that was playing when they reached his room.

Blood was lightly pouring from Ray's palm that night, as he forced himself to unclench his right fist. With his left hand, he straightened out a waste basket he had just kicked in, and quietly muttered to himself. "Things seem so different now in my life."

He went to the restroom and ran his hand under cold tap water until he felt a numbing throb. Looking into the mirror, at his unshaven face and tired eyes, Ray cursed under his breath.

Ray knew perfectly well how this night was likely to go, but that did little to comfort him.

"You can't fight the inevitable, though," he again spoke aloud. Ray shook his head, trying to banish the memories from his mind he knew he couldn't. Again, inevitable.

His jaw tight, he turned from the mirror and went back to his room. His stomach grumbled, but Ray ignored it. Instead, he laid on his bed, beforehand setting to play "Someone to Talk To" once more from his computer.

He didn't cry; not then. It was only twenty past eight - that would undoubtedly come later. But an indescribable pain again struck him. An anger so deep that when he heard a knock on his door, Ray audibly growled.

"What can I do for you," he said before the door fully slid open. Speedy and Hourman stood there, a resolute look on both their faces.

"Listen, can we come in," Speedy asked, his voice lacking the patience he meant to show. "Please," he further urged. "We'll be quick."

Ray took a deep sigh, but then nodded his head. "Sure thing," he replied, moving out of the door frame.

The door slid shut, and Ray looked up at Speedy. "How can I help?"

"Okay, listen, Ray," Hourman began, slumping into a chair the opposite side of the bed, "I understand that you may a more introverted person. That's fine. And I know we don't have any business asking you, but again, are you doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Ray again replied, toneless. "I told you-"

"Damn it," Speedy broke in. "You're obviously not fine, dude. Ralph and Courtney are really worried."

"Courtney," Ray asked, confused.

"Stargirl," Speedy answered. "Not to mention a few others. If it's something that you want to take on alone, then fine. But some of us feel obligated to help if we can."

A few seconds of silence fell upon the room. "I don't know how to reply," Ray replied, "but it's something I need to go through myself."

"But do you want to," Hourman asked gently.

"Screw you," Ray shouted, his aggravation clear. "Just leave me alone. I told you, I'm fine. Just take that answer and go."

"Hey," Speedy replied, a definite edge to his voice, "we're trying to be nice. You don't shout at teammate when they're just trying to help you out, Ray."

Again, silence enshrouded the room. "My father died," Ray spoke in a pained voice. With fury, he punched the wall. "My father died."

"It happened a few days after Superman's speech," Ray said 20 minutes later, sitting down on his bed, his bandaged hand on his head. "Cancer. Because he smoked. He promised to quit, but could never get himself to do it."

"Why didn't you say anything," Speedy softly asked. "You could have told someone."

"When I told Wonder Woman I wanted to be off active duty for a bit, she didn't prod. Because we just got started, she just assumed I needed time to adjust or something. So she didn't really ask. And I didn't know anyone here, really."

"You knew me and Ralph," Speedy replied, while Hourman nodded to his side.

"Not really," Ray shook his head, moving his hand up to the bridge of his nose, covering his eyes. "My mother isn't talking about it. It's business as usual for her. She's never really been an openly emotional person."

"And you're having a hard time with that," Hourman stated, more as a fact than an inquiry.

"He and I used to joke about who would go first, my dad with his smoking or my mother with her work habits," Ray managed, his voice light. "I guess we know."

"I take it this song," Speedy began, nodding toward the computer's speakers, playing a melodic rock song lightly, "reminds you of him? A coping mechanism? What?"

"I honestly don't know," Ray admitted, looking up. "I guess it's that song I was listening to when it hit me. The realization that I'd never see him again and he'd never see me get married or-" Ray stopped, his voice choked up, tears forming in this corner of his eyes. "It's a feeling I can't describe, and I hope you never have to go through it."

"Sooner or later, we will," Hourman said. "My father turned 69 last month. Even under the best conditions, I don't think he'll be reaching 80."

"I never knew my father," Speedy added. "I was raised by a single mother. I didn't even know having a father was normal until preschool," he finished with a half-hearted chuckle. "I guess Ollie filled that roll most of my life."

"Listen, I appreciate what you guys are trying to do," Ray began, wiping away the tears as nonchalantly as possible, "but you can't do anything. I - I just need to try to move forward."

"It won't happen without friends," Speedy replied, his voice soft. "I'm sorry, but it won't. You'll just sit in your room all day thinking about him, that damn song playing on repeat. It won't do you any good, especially if you want to try and move on."

Ray offered a weak smile. "What is your suggestion, then? I can't go back to active duty, not right now. Not this soon."

"No," Hourman agreed, "but you can wash up and then come out to eat with us. Hell, you don't want commissary food? Let's go down to Earth and eat there."

A feeble laugh from Ray followed. "I guess I could do that."

"Okay then," Hourman proclaimed, a smile on his face, "I'll go round up some people while you shower and shave. I know you probably don't want a big group, but at the very least, Ralph and Al should be invited."

Giving up, Ray sighed. "Al?"

"Oh, Atom-Smasher," Hourman replied. "You know, the guy who I came here earlier with. He's not big on emotional conversation, if it wasn't obvious, but it's probably more a cover. I know I saw him cry at the end of a Judging Amy episode, and not just one."

Speedy grinned at this, then looked over at Ray. "Mind if a few others come along? Courtney, her stepdad. Ollie, even?"

Another sigh escaped from Ray. "Fine, but could we cap it at that, though? I don't want the whole League down at St. Elmo Steak House."

With that, Speedy and Hourman left the room to corral the invited members. Ray couldn't believe it; though not substantial, he felt lighter, better. More optimistic. Another weak smile on his face, he stood up. Maybe, just maybe, Ray considered, this is step one to getting my life back on track. With that thought in mind, he ambled to the bathroom to shower.

"He didn't want to eat in the commissary, which I understand fully," Speedy stated, looking at Green Arrow, STRIPE, and Stargirl. "And we can't just go in our costumes. Ray doesn't want the attention anyways. He just wants a low-key dinner among friends."

Green Arrow nodded. "I don't have any problem with the idea," he admitted, "but isn't there something in the manual about sharing your identities with half the League?"

"You guys aren't going to know Atom-Smasher from Jack," STRIPE said. "If he wants a low-key dinner, we can do that. As far as I'm concerned, protocol doesn't matter here. If Ralph doesn't have any problem with us knowing who he is, then I don't either." Opening up his suit, a middle-aged, red-haired man came out. His palm calloused, he shook Speedy's hand. "I'm Pat Dugan. Pleased to meet you."

Smiling, both Green Arrow and Speedy removed their minuscule masks, followed swiftly by Stargirl. Seeing each other without their masks for the first time, the group stared at each other. Pat, grinning, motioned to the door. "Let's see if Hourman got Atom-Smasher yet. I'm starved."

From a reserved room at Indianapolis' St. Elmo Steak House, the sounds of a jovial occasion escaped to the hallways, though the waiters disturbed the room only to refill their water or refresh their beers.

"Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport," Patrick Dugan exclaimed, laughing loudly. "I haven't heard that song since I was a kid."

"Yeah, well," Ray replied, bracingly, "my father was always listening to that. Three Dog Night, Beach Boys, Billy Joel. All his-"

"Piano Man' was a good tune," Ralph replied wistfully.

"More 'We Didn't Start the Fire' and 'Only the Good Die Young,'" Ray amended, shrugging. "He'd sometimes sing along, but it was so God-awful."

"So a lesson to you kids," Ollie stated, looking at Courtney, Al, Rick, and Roy, "you want to sing to your favorite songs at 50, don't smoke, or your throat will be all scratched up."

Courtney rolled her eyes, but Rick and Al laughed, while Roy took another sip of his Merlot, a slight grin on his lips.

"You guys ever hear 'Ringo,' Ray suddenly asked. "You know, 'He lay face down in the desert sand.' That song?"

Ollie nodded his head, but before he could speak, Roy butted in. "You know, you're really showing your age tonight," Ollie's ex-partner said with a grin.

"Why, I oughta-"

"Who was that," Pat inquired. "Johnny Horton, right?"

"I don't know any of these names at all," Courtney whispered to Al, who grinned back. "Like, were these big singers?"

"Well before our time," Al replied. To Pat, he said, "I'm pretty sure that wasn't Horton. It doesn't seem right."

"Al's right," Ralph said, a frown on his face, in deep thought. "Horton sang 'Sink the Bismarck,' 'Battle of New Orleans,' and 'North to Alaska,', but he didn't do 'Ringo.'"

"It was Lorne Greene, wasn't it," Rick spoke up, lowering his salmon, as it was still hot, from his mouth.

"Lorne Greene," Ralph, Pat, and Ollie all said in unison. Those under the age of 35 all laughed.

"I was born '72," Ray stated. "I'm 30. I've never felt younger than right now, with you old-timers here."

Pat drew his left hand through his hair. "That hurt, man." Courtney snickered.

"You know what song I hadn't heard in ages, but caught yesterday on a classic country station," Ralph asked the table, looking around. After no guess came, he stated, "Harper Valley PTA."

"Oh, wow," Pat replied. "That's a blast from the past. Wasn't as great as 'Ode to Billie Joe,' but that song was pretty good."

"Completely different styles," Rick stated, shaking his head. "'Ode to Billie Joe' was intentionally depressing. I think both were excellent in their respective genres."

Pat and Ollie eyed him strangely. "You're what, 35 at most," Pat asked. "And yet, you remember more about these songs than Ralph does."

"Not having Alzheimer's helps," Rick replied, causing a outburst of cackling.

"I resent that, kid," Ralph replied sternly, though he wore a grin. "As it so happens, 'Ode to Billie Joe' was never a favorite of mine. I always get caught up on wondering what she and Billie Joe threw off the bridge."

"I feel like we're in Reservoir Dogs," Al stated with a groan, putting his head in his hands.

"I'm not familiar with the reference," Pat stated, sipping his Miller Lite.

"Wow, I wonder what that must feel like," Courtney loudly proclaimed, the sarcasm heavy. Another fresh bout of laughter began. "Hey guys," Courtney continued, piling on to her previous statement, "what do you think of 'Graduation (Friends Forever)'? Overly tacky or is it sentimental enough to be a decent song?"

"Well, that song's pretty sh-" Ray began, but then stopped himself, hastily gulping down some of his beer. "I mean, pretty bad."

"The singing is so flat," Al added, grinning at the consternation on the faces of Ralph, Pat and Ollie. "And Vitamin C? What's up with that name?"

"Okay, okay, we get it," Ollie shouted over the new laughter, throwing his arms up. "We're old-timers, we know."

"Oh God," Roy said, with a snicker. "If the music you guys listen to is old, what the heck does Wildcat jam to?"

Pat, trying to hide his smile, replied. "Duke Ellington," he offered.

While Ray chuckled at this reply, he realized that, despite all that's happened in his life this past week, for all intent and purposes, he was doing just fine tonight. His smile was genuine, and when he considered it, that's really all that mattered right now.

The dinner was nice. What was nicer still was Ollie picking up the whole check. Ray felt slightly off - as though the happiness he was feeling wasn't proper of the situation. Still, he didn't let it keep him from having fun. Though only slightly intoxicated, he allowed Al and Pat to help him to his room once they got back up to the Watchtower.

After saying goodnight to them all, Ray sat on his bed, hoping the positive feeling encapsulated in his chest wouldn't soon dissipate, but knew that it likely would. But before that could happen, a knock, for the third time that day, came on his door. Sluggishly, Ray stood up and opened in.

"Hey, me and Pat were talking," Ralph stated, coming into the room once Ray moved out of the way. "If you weren't against it, would you mind if some of us came to your father's funeral?"

Ray deeply sighed at this question. "It's planned for August 28th. Our Lady of Peace Cemetery, in Indianapolis. Noon. Yeah, you guys can come by if you want."

Looking critically at Ray, Ralph said, "Do you know the name Jackson C. Frank?"

"I do not," Ray admitted, shaking his head.

"Not many do. He was a folk singer back in the 1960's. Only released one album, and afterwards, was down on his luck for the rest of his life. I mean, his life wasn't going well whatsoever. People argue if it was due to schizophrenia or depression, but whatever it was, when he died a few years back, he was just a shadow of his former shelf. All this said, he went on to influence Simon & Garfunkel, Nick Drake, and my personal favorite, Paul Simon's solo work. The point is, this man influenced a lot of people, yet people barely know his name. My biggest fear, between you and me, is that when it comes my time, the only people who will notice will be my family. I don't help people to get noticed - I think the only one of us who does that is Booster Gold," he made a face before continuing. "Even so, I would hope that some of the people I've helped throughout my life would look back fondly on me. Going through life and ending it unnoticed just isn't right. You know Thomas Paine? Only six people went to his funeral because of all the controversial stuff he wrote."

Ray couldn't help but grin. "My father's not Thomas Paine."

"No, but he's the father of one of the members of the Justice League, and he deserves our deepest respect for that alone," Ralph solemnly replied. "I won't make a big deal out of it, but I think I'll pass along the word of your father's funeral, if that's okay. Make sure that come the 28th, you father gets the going-away gift that he's owed."

"I-," Ray began, but sniffing in some tears. "Thank you, Ralph."

"You want to go out again, do something fun, you let me know. Or Speedy. Or Pat. We're here for you, pal." With a pat on Ray's back, Ralph left. Ray, in disbelief, fell asleep that night peacefully.

Weeks later, while he was giving an eulogy for his father, Ray caught the supportive glances of Ralph and Pat. Pat's step-daughter, Courtney, stood there in her dark dress, her necklace occasionally reflecting sunlight into Ray's eyes. To her left, Rick, Al, and a few more faces stood out. And so Ray carried on with the eulogy, lighter in his heart.

It was the burial that blew him away. His father had many friends, most of whom were able to show up. But he didn't have as many as who came. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw over 40 faces that he was positive came not because they knew his father, but because they were Justice League members. He saw that Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, a red-haired, younger man, a complete stranger, his face very straight, and an individual who looked suspiciously like Superman, were it not for the pair of glasses he wore, stood in front of the gathering. He looked into Wonder Woman's eyes, and she gave him a curt nod, with a smile.

And with that, Garry Terrill, was interred into the ground, a crowd of over 100 there to watch the procession. As Ray reflected privately on his father's life, his past, he also couldn't help but, when looking at Ralph, Courtney, and Al mingling with the friends of his father as though they too long knew him, think about his future. Pat spoke briefly to him earlier. He said that while his father was gone, as long as he kept his father close to his heart, and his friends close to his side, he won't become forgotten.

Ray initially scoffed lightly at those words, though knew the intent was good. But seeing the red-headed young man laughing with Wonder Woman and Green Lantern, who then noted his glance, wave him over, he couldn't help but agree completely with what Pat Dugan had told him.

He walked over to the three, already looking forward to the future. Just as his father would have wanted.