"I am done with being loved," Edward told her. "I'm done loving. It's too painful."

"You disappoint me," she said. "You disappoint me greatly. If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless."

-Kate DiCamillo, from The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane

Jason couldn't stop coughing. The television screen in front of him was blank. In it he could see his face reflected, Robin insignia, runny nose and all. Stupid cold, he thought with a grimace. Alfred set the steaming bowl of chicken soup in front of him, reaching for the remote.

"Let us see what's on the telly tonight," he pointedly remarked, turning on the television set. His subtext said, "You don't have me fooled. You're not going on patrol tonight, young man."

It grated Jason, how Alfred could be so into his business. What was he, a babysitter?

"I'm not a baby! I can take care of myself!" Jason yelled, in an unimpressive attempt to sound mature.

Alfred looked up, with nothing but caring in his tone as he retorted "Then I wish you would, Master Jason." He left the room, leaving the young man to think. Jason looked down, rubbing his nose. He loved being Robin, going out into the night, knowing you were stronger than anyone around. Knowing you could win. Not locked up with some lame case of bronchitis.

"Batman never let a cold stop him," he whispered to himself wretchedly, tightening his cape, ready to don his mask.

A lone figure watched from the doorway. Bruce spoke up.

"Taking a night off every once in a while isn't a crime, Jason."

The surly teenager shrugged, not looking up.

"So, what are we watching?"

Jason shrugged, in the classic teenage "I'm pretending not to care" gesture.

Bruce flipped through the channels. "If I'm not mistaken, The Voice is just starting."

Jason let himself grin, looking up at his mentor. "Since when do you watch reality tv?"

Bruce feigned offense. "I'll have you know, Bruce Wayne is a huge fan of The Voice. Says so on my Facebook page. Maybe tonight I'll actually watch it."

The television blared nauseating music, and even worse singing.

Jason groaned. "Seriously Bruce, I'm gonna tell Superman on you."
"Go ahead, Clark loves this show. He's the one who recommended it."

Taking the bait, Jason yanked the remote out of his mentor's gauntlets, channel surfing. Bruce accepted a bowl of popcorn from Alfred with a nod.

"Here, ya gotta watch something good, like this. Casablanca. Way better than the garbage nowadays. I mean, did you know they're making another Transformers movie?"

Bruce smiled a little mischievously. "Hey, I'm producing a Batman movie soon. Thinking about calling it Batman: Brave and the Bold. Starring Nicolas Cage. What do you think?"

Jason laughed, the first real one in a long time. The mentor and student, hero and sidekick, father and son joked and laughed for a long time. It was a good day.

But that day was no more.

For the present, Batman could not remember Jason's laugh. He could not hear or see much of anything. It seemed his senses were blurred, deafened, beaten, and living in the present was not real. The green fire surrounding him seemed nothing more than an idle dream, from which he did not want to awake. He was mildly aware of the Firefly's cackle of triumph, the grind of the televisions turning into static, the creaking of the floors buckling from the heat duress, the sizzle of his cape. He knew instinctively what he should do, but he could not bring himself to move out of harm's way.

The floor is giving way, the voice of his instincts seemed to say.

I deserve this grave. Leave me alone.

You have to move!

Batman could feel himself pulled. Yanked, really. Is this what it felt like to leave your body?

"You have to move! Bruce, come on!" There, that was a real voice. Batman's eyes were too clouded with ash and smoke to see clearly, but there was a form in front of him, calling his name, pulling him out of this world into the next.

The ground beneath gave in. The world went dark.

Then a light. Not one coming from above, but from the side. Dispelling the nasty green glow of the debris, a golden light emanated from Batman as he returned to consciousness.

"You had me worried for a second, Batsy."

The debris was settling, but Batman still couldn't make out the form next to him, sizzling with light. No, with lightning.

"Barry?"

"Close enough," came Wally West's dry reply.

He rubbed his ash-smudged chin. Wally West surveyed the wreckage of the caved in floor beyond the doorway where they were sheltered, one of the few structures intact. Around them green pieces of concrete and wood gasped, expiring their flames, scattered around the room that must be the basement. Man, he thought to himself, Gotham sure is a piece of work.

Suddenly Batman gripped Flash by the shoulders, demanding "The carnival. What happened?"

"I know, I know, you told me to stay put. Don't you know I have selective hearing?"

Flash pulled Batman to the side, narrowly avoiding a feeble fireball.

The Firefly emerged from the shadows, thoroughly pissed off.

"Who the hell are you?"

Flash scoffed. "I could ask the same thing. What are you, the Human Glow Worm?"

"You may have saved your little Bat friend, but you're too late!" The insect mask let out a demented cackle.

Flash looked nonplussed. "Really? You mean like your evil plan to take over the world? Puh-lease, that's kindergarten stuff." He didn't mean to smirk, but he couldn't help it. "I mean tracking you guys was easy enough, I just followed the batplane."

Batman didn't understand. "But the device activated, I saw. . ."

Flash threw down a neon wristband to the crackling ground. "They did activate, right after I heard your crazy plan and rounded 'em all up. Fastest man alive, remember?" Flash threw down a charred object of what used to look like a walking stick. "Oh, and this too. Had time to yank it out of the generator before zooming over here. Would've been here faster, but Gotham has really bumpy roads. Your tax dollars could use a little investment."

Batman didn't know what to say. He could feel the truth of his friend's words, and the crushing guilt released him. He hadn't failed. . .

Captain Atom wasn't really sure what had happened. Every man, woman and child had been rocked to their knees, the green light frightening even the most stalwart of hearts (he was pretty sure he heard Elongated Man shriek), but the dust settled. No one was hurt. Nothing had happened.

"Atom? Lightning?" came Kilawog's voice over the comlink.

"What happened exactly?"

"Not sure. But I think it's over."

They were alive. . .

Flung into the open air by the last explosion, Helena was falling, with no crossbow or grappling line in sight. How ironic, she had time to think to herself, plummeting down, reaching for a foothold, handhold, anything. . .

. . .The gloved hand gripped her arm, swinging her in a wide arc back to the Ferris wheel. Helena looked up in shock at the Question, dangling by his necktie knotted to a spoke as a rope.

"Have I mentioned how much I love your tie?" Helena managed in a breathy voice.

"They do come in handy," he agreed in dry humor. "And - no offense or anything - but this is the last time I'm riding a Ferris wheel with you."

Out of the darkness above Atom's head, a light sputtered. Out of nowhere the lights came back on. The darkness was past. A child laughed in both relief and wonder, and he couldn't help but join.

. . .There was hope.

Batman looked Flash in the eyes, his voice too husky with emotion, so he mouthed "Thank you."

Firefly didn't quite share his sentiments. Batman should be buried, crushed really, his remains a green smoldering delight. But there he was, intact. His sadistic revenge should have been exacted, but he knew this red-spandex-clad jerk was telling the truth. The flamethrower leaked its toxic fuel like a wounded snake its venom. But this predator wasn't done with its prey. He detached the arm gauntlet, quaking with fury. The insect eyes blazed. With all of his force he swung at the Flash, targeting to the source of his hatred.

Flash turned, dodging each flailing punch with little effort. "Sucks to suck, bro. It happens."

Batman stood, holding his aching right shoulder. They had won. Firefly was beaten. Then why did something not feel right? Flash's banter dimmed in the background as he searched his memory, visualizing his surroundings.

"Warehouse, three stories high. Neighbors say it's abandoned since before the 90's. . ."

They were on the bottom floor, a basement really, judging by its concrete walls. There was a distinct hum of electricity. What was it Gordon's lieutenant said?

". . .Says all the electricity for three neighborhoods crosses underfoot. A live-wire triggered by the heat, apparently. . ."

That's it.

Flash deftly avoided another misaimed punch from his opponent. Firefly fell to the ground in exhausted defeat. Flash sighed from across the room, clearly bored. "Hey Bats, can we wrap this up? I kinda have a date."

Firefly met Batman's eyes from across the room. Far from exhausted he smiled, throwing powder down in front of him. Flash didn't know what the stuff was, but Batman did. Batman only had time to mouth "Don't -" before Firefly's dying flamethrower had enough juice left to light the quicklime, the Flash off his feet in a great burst of blinding light.

Flash groaned, his body already healing the bruised ribs upon impact. But his side, he'd never felt anything like it. His friction-proof suit was not enough for the reaction of the quicklime, his left side sizzling with third-degree burns. Firefly cackled. "Not so funny now, is it?"

In the four inch hole he created in the floor, he wound a tiny contraption into the chamber below.

"I'm not laughing anymore," Flash admitted through gritted teeth. The burn on his side was healing at a rapid rate, but still, it was painful. "I'm done with this little Gotham picnic," he called to Batman. In his peripheral vision, he saw his dark figure leaping down into the humming cavern below.

"Not until we disarm the contingency plan."

"Disarm the what?! Why am I the last to know everything?" Flash asked no one.

Batman yanked open the metal grate, staring into lengths upon lengths of wires. Where was it? There. Entangled in their center was the miniscule contraption, eeking out music, the kind of tune you listen to on a carousel.

Firefly chuckled darkly to himself. "So, ready for the encore, eh?

Batman was already working on a circuit panel, pulling out electrical tools from the utility belt. He called to Flash through the grating. "If this place shorts out with this much surge, it will cause a chain reaction and decimate the three neighborhoods it connects with."

"Not my first choice of a plan," Firefly admitted, cracking his knuckles, "but in recent light it will do."

The Flash stood up, holding his side. "So, that sounds bad. Need any help down there?" He dodged a barrage of quicklime, his boots slipping. He hated running away from a fight, but he needed a new angle.

"Okay, we'll tag team it. You take the wires, I'll take the fires."

Batman grimaced. "Something like that."

Flash faced his opponent. "I deserved that for the jab about the Human Glow Worm, I admit."

The Firefly nodded, ready to go. The Flash gritted his teeth, ready to run.

"Let's do this."

He could smell them long before he could see them. J-onn J-onzz opened his Martian eyes, blinking at the familiar sight of that wonderful human invention: oreos. A chubby boy with red hair, glasses, and a T-shirt reading "Aliens are people too" stood looking at him with curious brown eyes, crunching one oreo after another.

"Hi."

"Greetings."

The boy swallowed the cookie he was chewing, his face all mussed up with crumbs. He squinted in curiosity. "Whatcha doin'?"

J-onn thought the boy could not fathom the complexity of meditation and reverie, so he responded, "Thinking."

"About What?"

"My family."

"Oh. Do they live on Mars?"

"Not anymore."

"Oh." The boy nodded as though he understood, even though he didn't. "See, I have this telescope, and I knew Earth couldn't be the only place with people. My brother used to make fun of me when I told him aliens like you were real. Accountants," he explained, as if this explained everything. "So it's pretty cool meeting somebody from Mars in real life. Wish I could tell Layton all about you."

"Why couldn't you?"

"He's not here anymore."

The Martian looked at the boy sideways. He entered the boy's mind, could see images of a skiing accident. It happened not three months prior.

"The loss is fresh. You miss him."

J-onn was increasingly curious. Humans were so particular at Martian bluntness and would consider it rude to pry into another's personal business, and yet he felt compelled to ask, "Does his death not upset you?"

The boy chewed an oreo in thought. "I miss him more than anything. Especially when I look at the stars."

J-onn knew the feeling. And yet he did not understand. "You are at peace. Why?"

The boy continued. "I know he's out there. If Martians like you can exist on a faraway planet, a place a lotta people thought was impossible, then why not another world? Where we'll all see each other again? Even if I can't prove it," the boy looked to the myriad of worlds in the night sky, "I feel it here."

The Martian nodded. "For a child, you have more wisdom than many adults I have met. But where is your family? You look a little young to be on your own."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Mom's getting her fourth funnel cake. She said her diet starts tomorrow, might as well celebrate. We're from West Virginia" he added, as if that should explain everything.

"Ah." J-onn didn't know why that was significant, but he nodded as if he did. A typical human response he'd picked up.

The boy crunched another cookie. "Oreo?"

"Kara?"

Superman floated down to his cousin, watching her little shoulders move up and down, down and up as she sobbed. She didn't look up as she spoke.

"I'm s-sorry, Kal. I d-didn't m-mean to. . ."

"It's okay, it was an accident. Bruce always suspected you'd be stronger than me and wow, that heat beam packed a punch." Superman smiled, trying to make light of the situation.

The teenage girl wasn't amused. Another tear tried to streak down her face, freezing in the frigid air. She quieted enough to speak.

"I've been thinking for a long time now, Kal. I thought I could fit in, live here, start new. . ."

"But. . ." Superman repeated out loud, frowning. He didn't know where this was going. But he had a bad feeling, like when a mission was about to spin out of control.

Supergirl continued, facing her cousin, steeling herself to voice her resolution.

"This isn't Krypton. There I belonged, there I was part of something more. With. . ." She wanted to say family, but the tears choked her. She composed herself. "Ergo, I've made plans to live in the fifty-second galactic quadrant, via the guardians' invitation."

Superman stared, dumbfounded. His super-brain seemed to stop processing at its super speed and froze.

"You're leaving?" he blurted, in a way that almost made Kara ache for how upset he sounded.

"The elders of Oa assured me it is an ideal world uninhabited world in need of colonizers, and said I was a perfect candidate for such an undertaking."

Her cousin didn't respond, but she noticed his face turning red with anger as he clenched and unclenched his fists. She thought she heard him mutter things like "The elders –want to send a young girl all alone to an alien planet - think they know everything—"

"Isn't this a good solution? You once told me, I quote, 'The elder guardians of Oa know every inch of the universe, and their galactic knowledge is unmatched.' "

"They can blow it out their ass."

Supergirl gasped in shock. She knew Earth profanities- she even used one once in conversation, Ma and Pa Kent gasping as her cousin blushed and explained "She must have picked it up from television." He later said members of the League best not repeat such foul language. She gaped at her cousin's blatant disregard of respect for the guardians. Superman colored.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to expose you to foul language."

"It's okay," the girl offered. "Blue Beetle has said many worse words about Guy Gardner in my presence."

Superman didn't know if that should be consolatory. First deal with this, then Blue Beetle, he told himself. He breathed, trying to sort out his feelings.

"Kara, it's just. . ." he searched for the logical answer to the mix up of emotions he felt. "You're part of the League. There are duties to fulfill that obligation." He tried to make his voice sound professional. No one ever questioned his authoritative tone.

Supergirl looked at him so sadly, yet with such conviction as she said "I'm sure there are many who can take my place."

Superman stared at the ground. So, her mind was made up. She seemed determined to go. He wanted to say "Don't go" but he wasn't sure how.

"The world will always need Superman," she said. "Not Supergirl."

Supergirl took his silence as a cue. No longer upset, she rose and floated gently on the frozen, howling wind.

"You're right."

She didn't dare turn around. So, he would not miss her. She did not think so. He had so much on Earth, he would not miss her as she would him.

"And yet –so very, very mistaken."

Her cousin ever so gently touched her shoulder, in a customary Kryptonian gesture of affection.

"What do you mean?"

Superman took a deep breath, finding courage. He looked his younger cousin right in the eyes. He smiled, a little wryly this time. "You know, I've fought so many things. Alien invaders, megalomaniac masterminds, invulnerable villains. Luthor. Darkseid. I've faced them all but somehow, losing someone I love. . .that battle, that loss, I could not recover."

Supergirl turned around. She was used to seeing her big, strong, fearless, even overprotective cousin. She blinked in surprise. She'd never seen him look so undone.

He continued, emotion catching in his throat. "You're right about Superman. The world will always need him," he admitted, in wistful agreement. "But Kara-Zor-El is a part of the world Kal-El will always need." He hung his head. His great heart felt like bursting. Now he understood why Bruce for all those years stayed so silent at his parents' gravesite. "You're the only family I have. Your kind smile and warm heart are such treasures to my world. I know you've made up your mind, but please. . .please. . .we're family. I know I'm not nearly what you deserve, but I promise -"

Kara Zor-El held her cousin's shoulder in Kryptonian custom.

"Kal-El, last son of Krypton, you're more than enough."

Krypton's last son breathed in relief, pulling his only cousin in a bear hug in good ole Kansas custom of affection.

The League comlink buzzed.

"Duty calls," Supergirl sighed.

The comlink continued to buzz. Superman took the buzzing comlink out of his ear. Closing it in his hand, he crushed it to powder.

What are you doing?"

He cleared his throat. "You know, I believe we're missing a certain festival. Not nearly as nice as the ones in Candor, though I hear the funnel cakes are something special."

"Wait. What about responsibilities to the League?"

"Seems like I have a more important responsibility first."

Kara couldn't help but smile. Beams of light appeared. At long last, daylight appeared over the summit. The day was alight at last.

Not in Gotham. There the night was in full swing. Flash was more than fast enough to evade the quicklime bursts, but they were blinding. He veered to the right, slipping on concrete and glass rubble, almost crashing into the wall.

He rubbed his shoulder. He was used to opponents he could predict, but this guy. Man, lunatic would be an understatement. Not to mention relentless. Firefly was surrounded by the quicklime stuff. The phosphorescent mess leaked, causing Flash's boots to slip, slowly being eaten away by the toxic fuel. He hoped Batman was having a better time.

"It had to be Gotham," he said to himself. "How ya doing, Bats?" he called down.

Batman couldn't respond. He was neck-deep in wires, the delicate equipment ripping and sparking. He was disarming the bomb purely by touch, his miniscule tools working as fast as he could through the veil of electricity. The detonation was slowing, but why wouldn't it stop? A few more moves.

"Why do you not give up?" The Firefly raged, managing to slam into Flash's side. The suit around his arm sizzled. "Why take the pain when it is easier to run away?"

"As my fifth grade teacher used to say, I don't know when to quit. Besides. My uncle taught me to do the right thing, not the easy thing."

Down below, Batman finished the last piece. The music stopped. The bomb was disarmed. It was finished. Firefly screamed in defeat. Flash took the moment hesitation, going in for new angle, running straight for him, tackling him to the ground. The force knocked the insect into the corner – or what was left of it – and there he lay, unconscious. Flash stood over his defeated foe in triumph.

"Sorry I had to kick your ash, man. Nothing personal." He smiled at the wordplay.

As Batman hoisted himself above the metal grating, he noted the fall of dust on his fingers, the creaking from above. What infrastructure was left of the building groaned in pain. Dust fell in an ominous veil as the unsteady firmament creaked, groaned in farewell.

"I'm thinking it's time to go," Flash told himself. He squinted up, calculating the fastest way to exit. He did not notice the Firefly's hand twitching. . .reaching. . .firing. . .

"Flash, look out -"

The quicklime under Flash's feet ignited, blowing him clear across the room. He wanted to move, to get up, but couldn't feel his feet or half his body. His blackened limbs had lost feeling in the third degree burns. He clung to the floor in agony.

"Well my friend, you will end as I did. With no hope. All alone."

Firefly looked on without remorse. His victim saw the next actions unfold, as if he saw them in slow motion. Watching the scene unfold was all the worse knowing he could not get away: There he lay in puddles of his blood burning in the broken floor. Batman was across the room, running full out, launching a grappling hook. The grappling hook hit its mark, but too late.

The Firefly, with relish, flung his last handful of quicklime, combining the final release of hellish light.

It was blinding.

Batman was too late. He knelt before the smoking remains of his young friend. Not again.

"Jason! Answer me!" Batman kicked down the door, his heart pounding as he hoped to outrace fate. But he knew. By the stillness of the room and the emptiness he felt, he dreaded what he would find.

Wally West lay unmoving in the eerie green smolders of his own body, burned beyond recognition. With a final flicker in his green eyes -eyes that were brash, obnoxious, childish, joyful, and kind all at once -the light in them sparked, sputtered, died.

Blinded and running and praying and searching and, at last, seeing the crumpled figure. Flames roared with triumph, finishing their last supper.

Illuminated by the frenzied light, he lifted the bruised, bloody body. Jason. . .

. . .Wally. Batman searched for a sign of life, for a breath, a heartbeat. Surely his great speed could heal him, he'd seen it before. . .But even in this consoling fiction, he knew. Death was his companion, and he recognized its presence well. It was not merciful. When it struck, it struck true. With trembling hands, he unfastened his dark cloak, draping it as a funeral veil.

"The curtain comes for us all. Better now than suffering so many disappointments 'til death"

Batman lifted his eyes. His fists tightened in decision. " 'Til Death," he vowed.

Though Firefly was fast, he did not see his opponent coming. With no flamethrower or quicklime for a defense, he could not avoid the slamming gauntlets, the rib-cracking punches. Each punch and kick and attack was for keeps. Something in Batman had changed. No there was no restraining his violence, his rage, his terror. With a punch, the Firefly's mask flung away into the embers. Batman saw his face for the first time. It was the terrified pallor of a youth, a young man no more than eighteen years old. His eyes were blue and brilliant with madness. His mouth leaked blood.

"In the end, it all falls to rage. Vengeance."

"I am vengeance." Slam.

"I am the night." Batman flipped the Firefly into the wall. What was left of the ceiling rattled, chunks of drywall crumbling.

"You can't kill me," the Firefly sputtered between gaspfuls of blood. He tried to cackle, but it was pathetic.

Batman looked into those young eyes. He only had one rule. He once vowed never to cross that line. But his soul felt a charred corpse.

"Like you said, everything fails. Including mercy."

Wally West arrived running. He was running late. Weird. He knew there was somewhere he had to be. He wanted to check the time, but he didn't know where he left his watch.

"You always did like to be early."

Batman's strong fingers closed around Firefly's throat. Firefly looked startled. Fear filled his eyes as they clouded over. The lights of hell would welcome him soon.

Barry Allen smiled at his nephew.

"But not this time, kiddo. You have someone to save first."

Barry looked at him a little sadly. Then he ran, faster than Wally had ever seen. Wally instantly reached for him, calling to him, but he couldn't move. The lightning wouldn't let him move. He didn't know what to do. Then the lightning took him away, just like that.

"Barry."

Batman didn't dare believe. He didn't dare turn around. Light, faint light, yet growing stronger each second crackled around Wally's still body, like lightning. Batman disengaged his grasp, leaving the Firefly gasping for air.

"Wally? Can you hear me?"

"Uncle Barry. . .come back. . ." Wally's charred fingers reached out, his eyes fluttering back into unconsciousness.

A rumble. The crumbling began as a tremor, culminating in larger rumbles and screams. What was left of the wall was falling in on itself. Batman lifted his friend in a fireman-style carry, avoiding concrete dust rising and glass shattering. His grappling hook shot blindly into the night as he jumped for all he was worth into the deep, deep night. . .

Digger couldn't believe it. He'd done his part in mayhem, and what happened? Nothing. Not a darn thing. Someone must have caught the device. Maybe they caught the boss, too. If he had any sort of honor, even amongst thieves, he would have looked out for his employer, maybe tried to warn him. As it was, he was only thinking how quickly he could exit with the least amount of notice. The Leaguers were busy reassuring the carnival guests, sweeping spilled popcorn. He was almost to the west exit, smirking to himself. With no one the wiser.

Except, that is, for someone he didn't expect.

"Long time no see, Digger pal!"

Captain Boomerang almost plowed into some kid with neon hair and cream goo all over his face. "What the. . ? Move it kid." He was so close to the exit. Just a few more steps. . .

The kid laughed a little maniacally, cartwheeling in his way. "Come on, doncha recognize me? An old friend up to new tricks."

Boomerang couldn't believe it. James Jesse, or the Trickster as the old rogue knew him, looked like he was genuinely happy to see him.

"I spotted you across the park and gave Lorne the old slip just to say Hi. We just need Hartley and Mick and Len, and it's a regular reunion!"

"Yeah. Would love to, but I, uh, gotta go. My, uh, ice cream sundae is melting in the car. Gotta get it home to Junior before it melts." Boomerang tried to shove past the kid, but he was still in his face. His idiot grin faded for a second as he stopped him.

"Say, Flashy didn't tell me you'd be coming."

Boomerang was this close to getting away scott free, he wasn't about to blow it now. He inhaled, watching the nearby cart of soft pretzels roll by.

"You're not on assignment, are you? Like making all the kids scared with the sparks and lights?" he pieced together out loud.

"If I did, what's it to ye? Take 'em down today, one less grown-up Kid Flash tomorrow."

Boomerang smiled. He pushed his way into the nearby crowd of Japanese girls, their shrieks covering his escape.

A deftly thrown soft pretzel between the eyes stopped him in his tracks. The Trickster kicked him in the chest, somersaulting away. His winded opponent tried to get up, but slipped in the ketchup and mustard being drenched all over him. The Japanese girls all giggled with fright, their phones snapchatting the once-intimidating and now-ridiculous figure before them. The Trickster shook his neon-haired head in absolute disgust.

"Trying to mess up a carnival for kids? What kind of sick freak are you?"

Boomerang was desperate. He lunged for the nearest Japanese girl, could use her as a hostage.

A green cage encapsulated him. He banged his head on the emerald bars.

"Look who we got here." Kyle Rayner and Guy Gardner landed in unison on either side of the Australian rogue, their green constructs holding him in place. Gardner looked positively gleeful.

"Book 'em Dano," The Trickster snortled as Kyle snapped green constructed handcuffs on him. He could hear teenage girls next to him whispering "This carnival even has staged supervillains. So cool."

"So you're the one causing all this ruckus. Shame. I know a place past Pluto with your name on it." Gardner smacked his fists in glee.

"Um, we should run that by John first," Kyle suggested diplomatically. The neon-haired head spoke up next to him.

"No!" His cream-smeared face broke into a wicked grin. "I have something else in mind for him."

John Stewart, propelled by green energy, landed roughly. He was distraught. Mad. And Flash was no one to be found. "Wait until I get my hands on him. . . " the threats he rehearsed to himself were somewhat reassuring.

"Still no sign of him, huh?" Officer Lorne asked, scratching his ear.

GL couldn't believe this guy. Earth cops.

Hawkgirl's voice came in over the comlink. "John, come in. Still looking for your villain friend?"

"Rogue," Officer Lorne corrected nearby. The green lantern ignored him.

"He's not in a twenty mile radius of the place, I need all units for a manhunt - "

"No need. Gardner's with him now."

"Seriously?"

There was an indeterminate sploosh sound, followed by cheers. "We got him all right. Or should I say, he got him."

Hawkgirl snorted. Was she laughing?

"What's going on?"

"You better come have a look."

Helena waited patiently beside the trash bin. Question was almost done throwing up. And the night just keeps getting better, she thought to herself.

Question leaned against the face painting table, inhaling slowly. The vertigo seemed to be fading. Helena sat on the table, waiting patiently. She handed Question a Tucano's breath mint she happened to find in her jacket pocket.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Just don't breathe on me until it kicks in."

"Fair enough."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe. The clouds had cleared, and you could see the stars. Helena cleared her throat.

"Guess you're deterred from ever riding a Ferris wheel, again, eh?"

"Can't see why you'd say that," he remarked in a dry tone.

"It got pretty scary back there."

"Yes," he conceded.

"That must have been terrifying for you, facing a fear of heights."

"True."

"You could have died."

"Doubly true." Helena felt his hand on hers. She didn't pull it away. "Though, if these past few months have taught me anything, it's that I wasn't really living without you."

Helena looked at the man beside her. She was almost startled to see his face without the customary mask. His hair tussled, his eyes intense and focused watching hers. She kissed his cheek, content to have him so close.

"I'm glad we're friends again, Vic."

"The sentiment is equally reciprocated. I'd kiss you, but my breath is slightly bile aromatic."

Helena rolled her eyes. He may not be romantic, but he's mine, she thought.

"Let's get out of here, Fedora face. My apartment isn't too far." She pulled Vic Sage to his feet, motioning for him to follow. "I can think of something that doesn't require smelly bile breath. Something perfect for friends. On a Saturday night."

Vic was incredulous. "What do friends do on a Saturday night?" The answer was obvious. Without looking back, she knew he was blushing.

"Oh. That."

Green Arrow muscled his way past the hordes of thirsty men, slamming his bow down on the table in front of Black Canary.

"Okay, that's enough. First you ignore me, then parade around kissing other men, fine, I took the hint. I'm sorry."

Black Canary scoffed. "Hurt your playboy pride, you big baby? Next in line, please."

With a twang, an arrow stuck in the table. The lanky teenager close by was more than a little surprised to have come that close to taking an arrow to the knee. Arrow raised his arm to take another shot, but a warning look from Canary told him she would have no problem sonic-blasting his butt if he tried anything. The two ex-lovers stood facing each other, her hands on her hips in challenge, his arms crossed in indignation.

Fire surreptitiously got her phone out for a good view. A front row seat to a public love spat? Blue Beetle would love a snapchat.

"We are not exclusive, Ollie. You made that very clear."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Fine! I'm sorry. You happy?"

A burly biker man covered in tattooed sleeves of skulls and roses stepped forward in challenge, his arms crossed. "Hey buddy, back of the line. I waited two hours for a kiss, and I ain't about to give it up 'cause you got a Katniss hissyfit."

The burly biker stood about one foot higher than the green-clad archer. A tattoo on his neck read Leland. "Look, er, Mr. Leland, this is personal discussion between the lady and I."

"If it's so personal, then why are you disturbing the public?" The biker cracked his knuckles. Canary's gloved hand held him back.

"It's all right, Leland honey. He's not bothering me." He smiled sweetly at the lady, turning to glare daggers at Arrow.

"Whatever you say, darlin'. "

"Could you gentlemen please give us one minute? I'll be right with you." The beautiful blonde took her time applying lip gloss, tossing her hair in that way that drove men crazy. "What did you come here to say?"

Arrow paused. He hadn't actually thought this part through, assuming the finer points of detail would develop.

"Um. . .well, I. . ."

"You can do better, sweetheart," someone in the back voiced. There were many guffaws and nods of approval.

"I was with other women, I admit it. But it didn't mean anything. Not like with you."

"Said every cheater ever," a zitty teenager commented.

Man, this would be a lot simpler without an audience. Arrow tried again.

"Watching the sun rise in the Watchtower, those rooftop nights in Star City," he whispered. "Don't say they meant nothing."

"It's not about that, Ollie."

"Then what is it about?"

She searched his face for a semblance of trust.

"Time's up. Next." Leland put a meaty hand on Arrow's shoulder. "The lady wants you to move along, Robin Hood."

Arrow was steered out of the crowd. Leland make his way back to the front of the line. He grinned at Black Canary. "Now, where were we?"

Flit. Leland's grin froze as he toppled to the side, hitting the ground with a small tremor. Fire got her phone ready for round two. Canary searched for the man's pulse, pulling out the green-tinted dart in his neck. She saw Green Arrow push his way next to her. Her voice was steely.

"Oliver, this is getting embarrassing."

"Hey, Son of Anarchy was getting my nerves," he replied just as annoyed.

"So you tranquilize the guy? At a freaking charity event?"

"Anything sounds awful when you put it like that."

She couldn't believe this guy. She shoved him hard. "Couldn't talk to me like a normal person, oh no, had to barge in - "

"Right, like I'm happy watching these guys suck your lips off - "

"Oh yeah, like you haven't done the same - " She pulled back her arm for a punch. A solid hook to the chin should show him.

"What do I have to do to prove I love you?"

Canary paused, mid-punch, speechless. "What? What did you say?"

"I said, I love you."

"That's the first time you've said it."

"I know."

"Could have chosen better location."

"I know."

"That's all good and nice," the zitty teenager interjected, "but I paid all my lawn-mowing savings for this little ticket owes me a kiss, and I'm not leaving until I get it."

Arrow had to hand it to the kid, he was either brave or stupid for speaking up. The teenager must have realized what he said, because he suddenly paled. Green Arrow reached behind his back to his quiver full of arrows. The crowd held its breath, waiting to see how the kid would die. Canary tensed. Arrow winked.

"Relax. I'm a businessman, remember?" he pulled a checkbook out of a quiver pocket. "Kid, how much."

He blinked. "For what?"

"How much for the ticket. I'll buy it from you."

"Um, two hundred bucks."

His pen screeched to a halt. "Seriously? Two hundred bucks?"

Canary tossed her hair. "Hey, if there's anything you taught me, it's kisses don't come cheap." Her eyes flashed dangerously. "You said you loved me. Now prove it."