Gotham Times
Grayson Spotted in India
December 15th, 2015

Richard Grasyson-Wayne disappeared from Gotham's public eye a year ago, for unknown reasons. Most speculated that the young man went to join Barbara Gordon at her school in France. Now we know that was either not true or untrue currently, as Grayson was last seen two days ago in India. Miss Gordon wasn't seen and no one was able to get comments from the eldest Wayne ward.

When will the duo return? No one really knows. The Wayne and Gordon families have been unresponsive in our requests for comments or interviews.

Janah felt the bio-ship shake as it took off, engines roaring around him. However he didn't flinch or even pay attention to the sounds. They were a comfort to him as he shifted in his spot, hidden in the back of the vessel.

Janah pulled his legs a little closer to his chest, contorting more into the small space despite the aches in his muscles. Once upon a time the alcove had been plenty big enough for him to hide in on the return trips. That was before puberty decided to hit him. The hero sighed as he dropped his head forwards, resting it on his knees. Almost every inch of his body was burning to a degree, from smoldering to searing. It was his own fault, so he shouldn't complain, Janah thought with a wince.

As he sat cramped and contorted, Janah wanted to move less and less. Seconds ticked by in his brain, fading into minutes until a numbness washed over his mind and body. Relieved from pain, the hero drifted to sleep.

The dense musky odor of heated decaying vegetation rose to Janah, making him cringe again. He vainly tried to plug his nose, gagging sounds escaping him before he could stop them, too distracted by the opaque waters and endless mud between the trees. The marsh looked familiar, dark and dank with shadows everywhere. Janah paused to watch them. The dark shapes were twisting and churning, though there was no breeze.

A thick black cloud bubbled over the ground, like smoke billowing from a cauldron. Janah stared at the strange murk, perplexed as to what it was. His head snapped up, low sounds of fighting growing between the trees, coming from everywhere all at once towards where Janah stood. He couldn't figure out where to look or where to focus on, what with the grunts, growls, clashes and clangs echoing.

Around him, rising from the mud and mist were all his teammates. Each locked in a losing version of the previous fights. Every hero was littered with cuts and scrapes, drenched in mud, and backed into a corner.

Janah's gut twisted, eyes flicking between each fight as he tried to move, pulled in all directions. He couldn't move an inch in the muck, feet glued in place as he couldn't make up his mind who to help. He couldn't save everyone. He just wasn't fast enough. Janah closed his eyes, and started to battle against the mud harder than before. Saving one person would be good, fine, acceptable…

The heavy rotten smell of the swamp faded, as did the gelatinous floor, sending Janah stumbling forward with his eyes flashing open. The world around him was a cold blackened mess, charred rubble. As he turned in a circle the building around him went back in time, bursting inferno shrinking back into the oil barrels. Dick stopped, breath catching in his throat.

He didn't want to see this. He'd relived it enough times already. But the boy couldn't turn away as he watched a familiar redhead turn back from the window to freedom to practically heave his ass off the floor. There were supposed to be words exchanged, banter passed between them, but not a sound from them reached Janah watched.

Loud bangs burst the silence, lodging in the cement inches from the two heroes. Janah cringed, head swinging, hardly able watch Dick get thrown through the window as Babs turned her back to it. Still no voices came through, though the shots fired off in succession rang in Dick's ears.

BAM! A single shot.
One heartbeat.
Everything engulfed in a growing, razing white cloud of flames.
Her shrill screams…

Janah jolted awake, shoulders heaving as his eyes flicked around. Darkness surrounded him, a still silence mingling with it. A few seconds ticked by in the hero's head as he remembered falling asleep on the flight home. No one had noticed he hadn't gotten off with them.

"Guess I kind of deserve it," he groaned, slowly moving to roll out of the alcove.

His body still burned and protested movement, even more so after being cramped in one position for the entire trip. Pain is temporary, suffering is optional. The thought echoed in his mind as he pushed himself to his knees, grimacing and grunting with every slight shift and pull of his muscles. He stayed sitting on his heels, listening to nothing but himself. A lengthy sigh dripped from Janah as he shook his head and started to stand.

Getting his feet under him took longer than Janah had thought it would, and left his bruised lungs wanting for air faster than it should have. First thing on his mental to-do list: get to his room and take care of injuries. Normally the whole team was checked over together, something they had agreed on years ago to keep everyone in the loop. However, he doubted they waited for him if they left him on the ship. Not that he blamed them. He would leave his ass on the bioship too if he were them after what he pulled in the field. Another long groan seeped from him. Janah started slowly moving through the ship towards the open door, in spite of how the light made his eyes scrunch.

It should have only taken him a few seconds, yet that time drug on as his bruised and fractured ribs protested. Making it to his room without running into any of the Team would be a miracle with how slowly he was advancing. He forced the thought aside in favor of focusing on simply getting where he wanted to go.

Janah stalled at the door, giving his tired and pained muscles a rest as he leaned against the frame, as well as letting his eyes adjust to the lights. He resisted the want to inhale deeply, knowing how it would hurt more than it would help his thoughts. With that in mind and with dread on his shoulders, Janah began to walk forward. His steps down the ramp were small, though they remained so on the even floor of the Cave's landing bay.

Progress through the Cave's halls was slow, as Janah thought it would be, though he hadn't thought it would be quite as bad as it was. Each corridor took him three times as long to walk down, slowly putting him closer and closer to the center of the Cave. The rooms were all on the other side of the mountain, and he could not help but wonder if the Cave's layout had been designed to force heroes into interacting with one another.

"Wouldn't be surprised if it was," he chuckled under his breath as he turned a corner, eyes landing on the open doorway into the commons.

He continued towards it, hoping that there was no one there, that he could just walk through and not have to deal with anyone telling him off. There was going to be enough of that later from Canary, he was sure. A long rumbling sigh rolled from Janah as he heard voices wafting down the hall, anger evident from their tone and the force of their echoes. His already slow steps slowed even more and apprehension settled in his gut. He did not needed to hear the distinct words to know what the Team was arguing about, though he began to pick out snippets as he neared.

"... He was in front of all of my shots."
"At least he didn't try to tell you how to do your job, Royboy."
"Every single one of-"
"The guy was more focused on our fights than-"
"I don't even wanna know how many bullet holes and fractured ribs he has."
"Snarky deserves every one of them."

Janah stalled at the doorway, one foot over the invisible threshold, as he listened to the group continue to talk over one another. The voices created a dull cacophonous roar. It wasn't as though he had expected much of a different response from them, given how he had handled himself on the mission. Janah shook his head, groaning inaudibly as his head rolled on his shoulders. He had to go through the room to get to his own, and no amount of waiting around was going to get him any closer. So he forced feet to keep moving, not daring a glance towards the group that apparently had congregated in the kitchen, hoping that for once the universe would be on his side and just let him make it across the room unnoticed.

It wasn't until he turned a corner that Janah noticed that the voices had gotten distant and that he hadn't been stopped. Relief washed through him, almost soothing the burning pain running all through his body, if it weren't for the fact that he was still moving. Janah gritted his teeth, forcing one foot in front of the other. Just one more turn, he told himself.

Janah rounded the corner, one hand stretched out to press against the wall, a groan slipping from him as he saw a familiar form standing down the hall. Neither he nor Jason said a word as Janah limped towards him. The glower in the wounded hero's eyes dared the younger boy to say something as he leaned against the frame, waiting for the door to open.

Quiet followed the two as they stepped into the room, only broken by the soft closing whoosh behind them. Dimmed blue lights flicked to life without a sound. The silence's weight grew as they walked towards the bed, Jason stopping a step away with arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes carefully scanning over Janah as he slowly sat down. Jason caught the wince as well as how Janah swallowed back a groan when he began to peel off his suit, still the younger said nothing, though a few choice words did come to his mind.

"Just say it Jay. I doubt you've got any new material," Janah chuffed, gingerly pulling his torn shirt over his head, and lobbing it at Jason.
A disbelieving smirk crossed the younger's face as he caught it. "You sure about that? Cause I gave Roy a run for his money the other day, and you know the man's got a mouth on him."
"The day you beat Artemis is the day I'll be worried about you giving me a lecture."
"Okay, valid point," he conceded, looking down at the shirt in his hands. "Trash or mending pile?"
"Trash it. I don't even think Alfred would have the patience to sew up that many holes, on top of mine."
"Then maybe stop putting so many holes in yourself," Jason snapped, twisting around to find he bin.

As he tossed the shirt in, the barrenness of the room finally sunk in. It had been pretty much a month since Janah became a part of the team, yet there was nothing around that even suggested someone was living in the room. Except for the lights. Jason glanced up at the blue bulbs.

"Bringing the Bat Cave home with you much Dickiebird?" He smirked.
"Do you have an off button?" Janah groaned.
"No, but remember that that's why you love me. Well that and the fact that I'm twenty times better at putting in stitches than you are." He looked around again, eyes skipping over the room. "So where's your stitch kit?"
Janah paused, boot midway off, as he pointed at the desk. "Top drawer in the back."

Jason nodded, walking to the desk and grabbing the kit before returning to sit on the bed beside Janah. For a second, as he pulled out the gloves and antiseptic wipes under the blue lights, Jason could have sworn they were back in the Bat Cave, just doing their after-mission routine. He shook his head once, clearing his thoughts and throat as he started to gently clean and stitch shut as many of the bleeding injuries that he could get to, switching to the other side when he finished.

The room was quiet as Jason worked, his needle sliding through skin more times than either boy cared to count. Only when the younger sat up straight and went to clean the kit did Janah let his shoulders roll the tiniest bit forward and drop them down, head hanging, his eyes slipping closed. A small sigh rolled through Janah's lips, relieved that at least that part of the process was done.

"One'd think you'd be used to getting stitches in by now."
"With your clunky handiwork? As if, Junior," Janah scoffed, lifting his head slowly.
"Mine's miles better than your's ever was," Jason snorted indignantly, pointing at Janah with a roll of bandages.
Janah rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, Jay."
"I'll have you know Lucius asked if I ever considered the medical field with how clean my stitches are. Arms up," Jason instructed, kneeling by the bed and beginning to unravel part of the bandages. With a methodical slowness he began to wrap Janah's torso.
"Dr. Jason Todd, the medical professional who is almost as injured as his entire ER put together."
"Go on, laugh it up birdbrain," Jason snorted, standing up and tossing the bandage roll back onto the desk. "Just don't pull out those stitches, or else I'm manacling you to that bed." Jason stopped at the door as it opened, half stepping through before he turned around, "Oh, and there's a team 'bonding' meeting after dinner-"
"Jay, I-"
"Ordered by Dinah, so no skipping. See you then," Jason smirked as he walked out and turned, starting down the hall.

The door closed with its usual soft whoosh, leaving Janah alone. With a groan the boy gradually laid his back flat on the bed, arms spread above his shoulders. Slowly, Janah slid his eyes closed, sighing heavily as he focused in on himself, cataloguing each of the nicks and scrapes now sewn together, assessing what damage he could feel and allowing himself to feel it all. Everything hurt, from the mission to cramming himself in that alcove on the way back, and it would do him no good to ignore it.

Especially with him having to interact with the others.

With a gruff snort Wally all but flung himself back into the couch, arms crossing over his chest. Sorry! had definitely been a poor choice in game. Coupling for the teams was an even worse one, he judged by the scowls as he glanced around. Conner had the biggest one, though his scowl was likely part confusion as well as frustration at the game. M'gann was trying to placate everyone, mainly her demi-kryptonian boyfriend, and surprisingly enough Jason was helping her. His partner wasn't making it easy, what with her competitive snark and aggressive gameplay. The team's other archer was the opposite, head lolling back over the couch cushion and eyes half closed, leaving all the playing to a very confuzzled Kaldur.

"Whoever invented 'bored games' should be carbon-frozen à la Han Solo," the speedster grumped.
Conner looked up from the board. "Carbon-freezing?"
"Watch the originals, will ya Supey? Disgraceful enough that all you've seen are the horrendous prequels and Force Awakens," Wally snorted.

Conner's eyes narrowed, mouth opening as though he were going to say something when Artemis cut him off.

"Not everyone can handle watching that crap fifteen hours a day," she glowered.
"It's american history and culture!" Wally wildly sat up, leaning on his knees rather than melding into the couch.
Artemis rolled her eyes, "A bad part of it, maybe."

Wally's frown deepened to a scowl as he readied to retaliate, almost moving to stand up.

"Oi numbskulls, you're supposed to be teamship building, not murdering each other," Roy said, head hanging over the cushion.

"Not my fault his lonely ass is in a twist. He could've gone to grab the hermit if he wanted to," Artemis snorted indignantly as she settled back into the couch, glaring gray daggers at Wally.

The speedster did the same, though grumbling under his breath. He rubbed roughly at his eyes. This was exactly why they had stopped having game nights. All everyone did was snark and snap at one another from start to finish, which usually was when the table broke. It just wasn't the same without…

Wally jolted as though shocked as he swung his head side to side, chasing away the name. He was gone. Gone and there was nothing that could be done. By anyone. Thinking about it would only make his sour mood worsen, which he decided would not help the situation.

The huff-like sigh Wally let out was drenched in palpable bitterness, easily seen in his eyes, though they were hidden beneath his trenched brow. His whole face seemed to darken further as he noticed Janah quietly coming around behind the others. Since when was anyone allowed to be later to game night? Granted, team rules didn't seem to apply Janah in general, Wally snorted mentally to himself. The speedster's arms cinched tighter over his chest, eyes never coming off the newest team member.

Wally could tell he was hurt, what with the whole moving slow and wearing a baggy sweatshirt instead of his usual tank top. What was it with the dude and tanks anyway? It shouldn't be legal for someone to wear them as tight as he did. Particularly with that much musc-

A small thump on Wally's head and then another in his arms, drew the speedsters attention.

"Earth to Speed Force. Your turn," Jason pointed to the board.

Wally muttered a few hardly audible, incoherent grumblings as he looked at the board, making a move quickly. His focus was gone before the next person went, eyes back on Janah, analyzing more than ogling. Within a few weeks Wally had gotten reads on, if not figured out, the entire Team, with the exception of… He snorted and shook his head again. It was stupid that it was so hard for Wally to even get anything from Janah. One thing. One little tiny clue into how that idiot's brain worked. But no, Mr. I-have-to-wear-sunglasses-inside had to go and hide behind tinted lenses and walls of emotional constipation.

"Speedy Gonzales, you going to go or are they Sorrying! you?" Janah asked from his spot on the back of the couch behind Jason.
"Late birds don't get to backseat play," Wally snipped, glowering at him through narrow slits.
"Hartyharhar, keep it up and someday you'll be out of bird puns when you need 'em."
"There'll always be new puns, especially puns of a feather."
"Don't count your eggs before they hatch, you might end up slipping in the yolk,"
"Guys, game? Focus, please?" M'gann interrupted, looking hopefully between the two.

Begrudgingly Wally again looked down at the board, assessing his horrible playing skills and the options open to him. There weren't many, what with only having two pieces of four hanging around the starting area. He made a move, and forced himself to keep his eyes on the game, attempting to not get distracted so he could at least try to win. Where he was looking was not as helpful as he thought it would be. His ears seemed to hone in on Janah and Jason's quiet voices among the others' bickering. The pair's words were lost, but Wally could definitely tell that Jason was peeved, as usual, and Janah was trying to avoid the conversation, as per usual as well.

Wally's eyes rolled as he huffed, almost leaning back before reminding himself he was supposed to focus on the game. He looked over the board, trying to figure out whose turn it was.

"You planning on making a move this century, Baywatch?"
"If you plan on not interrupting my thought process," Wally snipped defensively, hurrying to make a decision.
"Didn't think you had one," Artemis chuffed.
"Didn't know you could think," Wally snorted, picking up and starting to move his piece.
"Wouldn't move that one if I were you," Janah piped up.

Wally paused, holding the piece a scant half-inch from the board, shooting an untrusting look at the other hero.

"And why shouldn't I?"
"Cause Arty's got a piece coming out behind that'll knock your pawn straight back to start."

After a moment of consideration Wally nodded, putting the piece back and moving a different one. He glanced quickly to Janah and almost groaned aloud when he saw the other's smirk.

"No need to be so smug about it."
"Not smug."
"What then, whelmed?" Wally snorted, sitting back a tad, looking over the other couches, noticing that M'gann and Conner had left.
"Whel- uh, no. Happy to help, that's all," Janah shrugged, smirk shrinking.
"Be happy without distracting him then," Artemis grumbled, drawing her card and moving her final piece around the corner before her safety zone.
"Not a chance, Goldilocks," Janah chuckled, inching off the couch, escaping Artemis.

Kaldur shook his head at the antics before sliding his last pawn into the home bubble. This time at least Wally was paying enough attention to know that it was his turn and drew a card. Meanwhile, Kaldur shook Roy awake and started to herd the archer towards his room. Wally slid his third pawn out of home.

"I've had enough of you idiots, I'm heading out," Artemis announced standing up and glaring at Janah, who made it to Jason's other side.
"Have fun finishing up guys," the youngest said, hopping up. "Pull out the stitches, and you're not getting new ones," Jason warned as he followed after her.
"Skinny bird say what now?" Wally asked, watching the couple leave.
"That he's leaving us with clean up, after we finish the game," Janah answered quickly. "Thought you had a chemist's brain in there, not an amoeba's."
"Very funny, birdboy," Wally mumbled, picking up a piece and moving it down the slide.
"Really? Cause y'know I've always dreamed of being a comedian."
"Yeah, right up there with Tim Allen and Larry the Cable Guy."

Janah didn't respond as he dropped his last pawn into the home base, releasing a contented sigh, with a grin to match stretching on his face.

"One could say my comedy skills are right alongside your skills at playing Sorry! "
"Give me an even playing field and I'll play circles around you."
"Oh really? And how was this unfair?"
"Everyone else was on a team of two, but cause your birdy butt was late I got stuck one brain down," Wally snapped, standing up.
"Not like I knew I was gonna screw you up, Flashy," Janah fired back, slowly standing, obviously biting back a wince.

Wally had forgotten how beat up Janah probably was underneath the baggy sweatshirt. Before he could start to ask anything, Janah was already storming out of the room, or as much as one can with a limping gait. Not to mention the way the hero's hand hovered by his right side, as if wanting grab it and support his ribs.

"Damn…" Wally murmured, nodding imperceptibly.

With a sharp huff Wally's head snapped to the side, unseating the sympathy. What had that jerk done to deserve it? His injuries were his own doing! Wally turned and started towards the Zeta Tubes, whooshing through the halls and stopping by them in seconds. Janah was nothing more than a self-important idiot with authority issues under pressure; not someone who needed sympathy, but a giant, steel-toed kick in the ass.

The tube glowed bright white. Wally rushed in, itching to be out of the Cave, and home, asleep.