John Stewart was closing in on the last bomb location. He had discovered no bomb in Philadelphia and had reported as much to J'onn. The Martian had requested he head to Erie as backup for Batman. The man was in route, but there were questions if he would arrive there in time.

Seeing the logic, the Green Lantern had made his way northwest. Presently, he was within seeing distance of the abandoned factory, the place growing larger as he closed in on it.

Then out of nowhere, it exploded with a deafening roar. John had a deja vu from Elko as the entire factory was consumed in flames, the force of the explosion slamming right into him and throwing him back a good distance away. He even let out a yell of surprise as he careened through the air. He got control of himself shortly after, managing to hover in midair.

Damn it all. After all the work they had put in, one managed to go off. While it was better than having multiple explosions throughout the country, seeing just one go off was frustrating. Staring as the remains of the factory collapsed in on itself, a cloud of black smoke rising into the air, he then reached a hand up to his ear to activate his comm link.

"J'onn, the Erie plant blew up," he reported. "As far as I can tell, there was no one on site."

He got an immediate response from the Martian. "I was informed by Batman that he was landing a few minutes ago. I'll hail his comm, but I need you to do a sweep of the area."

A sinking feeling filled his stomach. Batman had arrived already? "Copy that," he responded before he flew towards the scene. Reaching a parking lot that surrounded the former factory, his green eyes immediately found something black. Descending to the ground, he soon discovered it was the Batjet, a large chunk of cement lying on top of it, crushing the plane to the ground. It was clear it was beyond operational, what with the cockpit beneath the debris that had to have been thrown by the explosion. The wings were bent upwards, almost as if they were trying to wrap around the rubble.

Looking to the burning inferno that raged in the factory, John steeled his face. Batman was definitely here. He hoped against hope the man hadn't been inside the building when it had exploded, but in this line of work, he feared the vigilante had been.

"J'onn, I've found the Batjet," he said into his comm link. "It's completely totaled; however, I haven't seen any sign of Batman."

He had to wait a few seconds before he received a reply. "I am currently unable to raise Batman as well," J'onn replied, which wasn't what the Lantern wanted to hear. "I will continue to hail him, but I fear the worst."

"While you're doing that, alert the local PD, firefighters, and emergency response teams," John ordered. "Inform them of the situation; I'll make sure the area is safe for their teams. There's no telling what was made at this factory and if there were any chemicals, we'll have to make sure they're appropriately prepared."

"Understood. Martian Manhunter, out."

John sighed. He could feel it in his gut; he knew what he didn't want to find, but he just knew he wasn't going to get his wish. Steeling his nerves, he then shot headfirst into the flames.

Clark tugged at the knot around his neck, undoing his tie as he entered his apartment. In his hand was a small plaque, one that stated that Clark Kent was the winner of the Anthony Shadid Award for Journalism Ethics. It was a proud night for him.

In fact, he wasn't alone. Right behind him, Lois and Jimmy entered his apartment, the former coolly while the latter was clearly exuberant. "This is so cool, Clark," Jimmy told him for what had to be the fifteenth time. "We have to celebrate!"

"Be careful what you wish for," Lois warned the redhead. "Smallville here is probably packing some moonshine around this place. I don't think your constitution would handle it."

"Whatever," Jimmy replied, not the least bit put off. It showed just how used he was to the dark-haired woman's barbs that he could roll with them. One had to if they were going to work with the fiery reporter. "I'll drink anything as long as it's wet."

"Not a good idea," Clark said gently, placing the plaque down on his kitchen counter. His tie soon joined it as he began to pull off his suit jacket. "You have to drive home and you know the city's been cracking down on drunk driving."

"Yeah, yeah, I've seen the billboards. 'Buzzed Driving is the same as Drunk Driving.' That's why you're here. If I drink too much, you can drive me home!"

That caused both Clark and Lois to raise an eyebrow at the young man. It seemed Jimmy had begun to enjoy the spirits after he had turned 21, granted that was a few years ago. He was clearly acting like someone that had just become legal a day ago. Either that, or they didn't really know how he was outside of the office.

It seemed they were going to have to have a serious talk with the boy.

"You do realize it's rude to make your host drive you home, right?" Lois pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. "I mean, if I was Clark, I'd throw you out into the hall before we even toast him."

"But you're not Clark," Jimmy quickly said. "I'm sure he'd let me crash on his couch if worst came to worst."

Lois looked to the dark-haired man, eyeing him for a moment. "I think you're right about Mr. Ethics here," she grumbled.

Clark just shook his head at the two's antics. He was sure no one was going to get to the point they needed to crash in his apartment. They were all professionals after all. Hanging his jacket on the back of a chair, he moved over to his television and turned it on. It wasn't so much that he was ignoring his guests as much as he wanted something in the background playing. It helped to drown out the sounds from outside of his apartment. It was pure habit at this point. The pomp and music from the ceremony had helped to block out his super-hearing; the television would just be taking up where the ceremony left off.

Of course, he wasn't expecting the first picture on the screen to be of a building spilling smoke into the air.

"Whoa, what's going on?" Lois asked as she seemed to magically appear next to him. Clark looked to the banners at the bottom of the screen, seeing one that proclaimed BREAKING NEWS. Beneath that one, he read BOMBING IN ERIE, PA.

"...all emergency responders are on scene," the reporter was saying as soon as the audio kicked in. "For those of you now joining us, an explosion rocked the quiet city of Erie tonight. Though Erie PD has yet to comment on the cause, it is highly suspected an explosive of some kind, maybe a bomb, was involved."

"Damn, is it another terrorist attack?" Jimmy asked as he came to stand on the other side of Clark.

"Not sure," the dark-haired man responded. Erie… his mind wondered. If he wasn't mistaken, that was in the direction of Lake Erie, which coincidentally would've put the place somewhere beyond the wall in front of him. Activating his X-ray vision, he saw through the wall and then beyond the skyline of Metropolis. Countryside rushed before his eyes, the occasional town or city flashing by until his vision reached Erie, where he immediately placed the smoke.

Focusing more, the burning building was right in front of his eyes. There were firefighters everywhere, spraying water on the blaze, much like the picture the television was showing. He couldn't make heads or tails of what caused the explosion due to the raging fire, so he backed off slightly.

He then scanned the rest of the scene until he finally caught sight of something. A short distance away from the building was a black vehicle, twisted and broken beneath a piece of debris. Because of the damage, it was hard to make out what it was previously, but he had a feeling he knew what it was beforehand.

"Any second, Perry's gonna be calling us in on this," Lois remarked, breaking off Clark's concentration as the scene of Erie faded from his sight and his apartment reappeared before him. "I'll be heading to the Planet." She made to walk to the door, but stopped after one step. "Congratulation on your award, Clark," she said to him before taking off.

"I'll be right behind you, Lois," Clark replied, turning his head to follow the dark-haired woman. A gasp from Jimmy caused both of them snap their heads towards him.

"Holy cow!" he exclaimed, pointing right at the television. Quickly looking back, Clark just barely caught sight of something emerging from the burning flames, glowing green. John. The Green Lantern was flying through the air, a green bubble construct trailing behind him.

"The Justice League is involved?" Clark exclaimed. That was the only thing that made sense to him, especially if John was at the scene. Sure, the Green Lantern did foil local crimes, but he had an entire sector of space to patrol; he was more involved in bigger situations.

"There's a story here," Lois breathed, her nose twitching with anticipation. "Last one back to the Planet loses the story!"

"See you there, Clark!" Jimmy said to him before he took off running after Lois.

In the meantime, Clark just stood in front of the television, his hands beginning to unbutton his shirt. It seemed he was definitely going to need a change of clothes.

The smell was pungent.

After everything that had happened tonight, that was the thought dominating John's mind. It wasn't the first time he had smelled the odor of a freshly burnt corpse. He had been in battlefields littered with blood, guts, bullets, and fire, and seen all manner of wounds a person could receive, from cuts, bullet holes, burns, chemical burns...the list went on. Yet, for some reason, this smell was all he could think about.

The doors to the room slid open and the Green Lantern instinctively turned to look towards them, seeing Superman entering the room. There was a slight frantic look in his eyes, as if he were seeking reassurance. "What happened?" was all he asked.

John found himself looking to a seated J'onn. The Martian had been in the chair ever since he had finished his examination. Hands clasped together in front of his face, elbows propping his arms up on his thighs as he leaned forward, he hadn't moved an inch until the Kryptonian had arrived.

Seeing as J'onn wasn't going to answer their friend, John sighed. It looked like it would fall to him. "We had an emergency tonight," he began. There was no hitch in his voice, not that he thought there would be one. He did find himself swallowing a little more than usual, though. "A series of bombs had been planted throughout the U.S. using the Canidite we uncovered."

"Why wasn't I called in on this?" Superman demanded, squaring his shoulders as he came to stand before the two heroes. It was classic alpha male behavior, though John didn't let it get to him. He remained with his back leaned up against a wall, arms crossed over his chest.

However, it was J'onn who answered him this time. "We tried to raise you earlier in the evening, but were unable to reach you. I believe your communication device was off."

The dark-haired man stared at J'onn for a moment before he slowly nodded his acceptance. The Green Lantern couldn't help but notice how his nose would wrinkle every so often, coinciding with every breath he took. He was definitely smelling the smell. "What happened then?"

"After calling in Flash, the six of us went about defusing the bombs with J'onn coordinating everything from the Watchtower," John explained. "We managed to defuse all but one of the bombs."

"The one that went off in Erie?"

"Right."

There was a pause. "I saw on the news you leaving the scene. It looked like you were carrying something."

John couldn't help but close his eyes, his head hanging for a moment. "One of us was in the building when it exploded." Ignoring the horror that warped Superman's face, John pushed himself off the wall and turned to his side. There was a small, square door with a handle right next to where he had stationed himself. Grabbing the handle and twisting it, he then pulled out a sliding gurney.

If the smell was powerful earlier, it was damn near overwhelming now. On the gurney was the charred remains of Batman. Parts of his costume had been consumed in the fire, leaving only a few pieces of the suit left, such as a part of his infamous cowl. His face and most of his body had been burnt beyond recognition, which had made visual confirmation impossible. Fingerprints and footprints were also unavailable, mostly because his feet had been burned right off and there was too much damage to the fingers—the ones that remained anyway—to get a good set of prints.

One could say this wasn't Batman if not for the costume. However, there was one last avenue available to them to check and they had received the results of it moments before Superman had come storming into the morgue. The dental records they received after getting an impression were a match for Bruce Wayne. It was almost a miracle that they got even those considering half of the man's face had been burnt to the bone.

Slowly, Superman approached the body, coming to a stop in front of it. He rose a shaky hand that hovered over the body, almost as if he wanted to touch it, but didn't. "All this…" he spoke softly, devastatingly. "All this...because I wanted a night off…"

"This was not your fault," J'onn immediately spoke, startling the two men. In fact, the Martian stood up from his chair and came to stand next to Superman, his eyes never once moving from Batman. "It is mine."

That seemed to baffle the Kryptonian. In all honesty, so was John. "What do you mean by that?" Superman asked in bewilderment.

"I had been the one to assign Batman to that location," J'onn confessed. "I had thought he wouldn't have been able to arrive in time, but instead of insisting he not go, or use the teleporter, I bowed to his wishes. If I had not listened to him, he would be still alive."

"Or if you sent someone else," John added before shaking his head. "Batman made the decision to go in alone, when he most likely knew he was cutting it short to begin with. His pride did this, not you."

"I have to say, I'm siding with John on this," Superman agreed. "We all know how prideful Batman was. He would have gone in even if you told him to sit it out."

"Thank you for your kind words," the Martian said, bowing his head gratefully. "But it does not change the fact that I could have acted as well. This is a decision that will haunt me...for quite some time."

The doors opened again, and this time Flash entered, though he did so at a sedate pace. That was unusual considering he normally sped into every room he entered. "So everyone but the ladies are here," he remarked, his voice subdued as he approached them.

Huh, he was right. Ever since John had returned to the Watchtower, Batman's remained in tow, he hadn't seen either Wonder Woman or Hawkgirl. Diana had gasped, her hands covering her mouth and nose as she stared at their former comrade. Hawkgirl had been frozen in shock. That was the last time he had seen either woman.

Flash sighed right as he stopped at the foot of the gurney, turning to face the Leaguers. "I hate to be that guy, ya know, with everything that's happened, but we need to talk about a couple things." It was strange seeing the speedster so serious, but then, they were all in a state of shock or grieving.

"Since everyone saw John leaving that factory place, the press have been calling for statements," the red-clad man began. "I've stalled them, saying that we're currently in the middle of an investigation and can't comment on it, but that's only going to last for so long."

"The League will have to address it eventually," John said, arms crossing over his chest again. "But not right now."

"I don't think you know how persistent these guys are," Flash countered. "Our phone line has been ringing off the hook for the last thirty minutes. I didn't even know we had a phone line in this place until they called."

"I'll work on a statement," Superman volunteered. "I can make sure no one knows about this just yet."

"Which brings up another topic," J'onn spoke then. "What do we tell others about this? Eventually, Batman's absence is going to be noticed."

"Oh, man." John found himself looking to Flash as the man pressed a hand to his forehead. "The kid that was with Batman, in his cave. Batgirl. We have to tell her about this."

The Green Lantern suddenly found it difficult to swallow. He hadn't actually met this Batgirl partner, but the others had. Already he could feel just how tough this was going to be.

Flash then dropped his hand from his face and tilted his head up so he was looking up at the ceiling. He blew some air out of his mouth before bringing his head back down. "I'm not sure about you guys, but I think I'll handle that. We've actually met and I'm pretty good with kids."

There was a part of John that was relieved by this. It was never easy having to tell someone their loved one was never coming back. It was one thing he had done following his tours and it was the least enjoyable aspect of his military career.

However, all of this talk was about stalling. They were missing their main objective. "Which leaves our actual investigation. Someone is planning something big; he practically taunted us all in Elko about it. We need to nail him and nail him hard."

"Damn straight," Flash agreed heatedly. Superman nodded his agreement a stern look on his face. J'onn merely gazed at him, waiting expectantly.

"What we know so far is that this guy was expecting us and arranged this entire thing on the fly. That means he has spies everywhere. We need to find out who, or, at the very least, find out what the main objective is."

"John and J'onn, you two get started on that," Superman said. "Once Flash and I are finished with our assignments, we'll join you. I'll also check on the girls and fill them in with what we're doing."

For once, John felt like they were on the right track. They had lost one of their own and each of them was hurting in their own way. He had found the best way for him to handle death was to get right back in the saddle and keep busy. Do anything that kept him from being alone with his thoughts.

Anything at all.

He was gone.

That was the only thought that was in Diana's head. It was on a continuous loop, going over and over in her mind. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone.

It was driving her insane.

The Amazon had tried to get her mind off of it. She did what came naturally and sought out the training room. The mechanical robots hadn't really helped, not in the way she needed them too. Perhaps fighting hadn't been the salve to the torrent of emotion in her head. Perhaps punishing herself by going all out was not the answer.

Perhaps she didn't have nearly enough robots to crush considering she had company.

Hawkgirl hadn't left her side since they had seen John board the Watchtower. The sight of Batman had hit her so suddenly, so hard, she had been breathless. She had watched John take the body away, felt a stabbing pain in her chest that had yet to go away. It was a feeling she was not used to.

Familiar feelings of pain, stress, and anger hadn't dampened it one bit. Now, now she felt empty aside from her constant chest pain. She was drained of all energy, lifeless, numb.

And still Hawkgirl was at her side.

They were now in Diana's room aboard the Watchtower. The space station's rotation had her small window facing the void of space, it's darkness a representation of how the Amazon felt. She was currently slumped over on her bed, somehow staying seated on the mattress; her back pressing up against the wall probably had something to do with it. Hawkgirl had taken the sole chair in the room and was facing her. Neither Sister had said a word, but really what was there to say?

A comrade, a fellow warrior-in-arms had fallen. He was gone.

Diana had seen friends die in the line of duty; this was not a first for her. The same could be said of Hawkgirl, who had survived the carnage of the Thanagarians' multiple wars. Yet, there was something different about this. It didn't feel like the others.

Why?

"Are you ready to talk about it?" Hawkgirl suddenly asked, it startled the Amazon, causing her to physically jump.

"Talk?" she repeated softly. "Talk about what?"

The winged woman visibly shuddered as she sighed. It seemed she didn't want to say what she was about to say. "About Batman. What happened to him."

A flash of the charred body appeared in her head and Diana had to fight the urge to vomit. "That's not him," she declared, feeling a flicker of her usual self come to the surface.

"What makes you think that?" Hawkgirl responded patiently.

"It was just a body, burned beyond recognition. He must have fought the person that John found and felt it was best to let the bomb go off."

It had sounded good in her head. For a man that took to the shadows like a duck to water, subterfuge was not beyond him. There must have been something about the bomb that convinced him to fake his death and go underground. A wave of relief hit her, making her feel more alive than she had felt in the last hour.

"So he put his costume on this man where there was a chance he could be recognized?" the Thanagarian rebutted. "Not to mention his aversion towards killing? Would he have left an unconscious man behind to die while he escaped?"

With every question the redhead made, Diana's elation was torn asunder. No, she could not see the man risking his identity for such a ploy nor leaving another to die. He would most certainly not do that. "But he has died before," she tried again. "And he came back. Why can't this be the same?"

"They didn't find a body the last time. We did. And no amount of Lazarus is going to repair that."

It was a sock to the gut, her pain returning in full force. Diana found it difficult to swallow.

Hawkgirl then leaned forward in her chair, reaching a hand out that only managed to reach her ankle. "I know you two have been spending time together, more time than you have with the rest of the team. You got attached in a way you weren't used to. So that's why you're doing this, denying it."

Unconsciously, a tear trailed down her cheek from her eye. "What are you saying?"

"That you're going to miss him more than you thought possible. He's gone—"

"Don't say that," Diana hissed.

Hawkgirl stared at her, then deliberately said, "He's gone."

"I told you to not—"

"He's gone."

"Stop it!"

"He's gone."

"I said stop!" Diana shouted, nearly throwing herself off the bed and tackling her Sister. Instead, she slid over the mattress until she was at the bed's edge, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid and a sob escaped her lips. More and more tears were pouring from her eyes and she found herself bent over, legs hanging over the edge of the bed.

Before she knew it, Hawkgirl was at her side, arms wrapped around the dark-haired woman. She soothingly cooed, "It's okay. It's okay," over and over. And for whatever reason, Diana find herself returning the embrace, her sobs growing louder.

Unbeknownst to her, her friend was crying with her.

Every time Flash found himself in the Batcave, he found himself in awe. The elaborate planning that had been involved was breathtaking, not to mention the the sheer weight it seemed to place on his shoulders just by being in it.

Today, it seemed to weigh even more. The cave felt ominous, darker, judgemental even. A shiver ran up and down Flash's spine. He hadn't ever felt this way before; in fact, for the first he he really wanted to get out of here.

However, he had something that needed to be done. It had to be here. Sure, he could've gone up to the house above ground, but he was staying in the cave out of respect. He didn't know Batgirl's true identity and Batman hadn't told anyone who she was. It was best he stay down here until she came down. Knowing her, she'd be able to slip right by him, get her mask, or even her entire costume on, and then sneak up on him.

Regardless, he kept his back to the staircase and instead faced the supercomputer. God, he wanted one of those. His home project to build one hadn't gone over too well, sad to say. Maybe if Bats left a will, he may have left it to him. He snorted. Yeah, and pigs would fly.

Rolling his head back as he looked up to the ceiling, Flash called out, "Hey, I know you're in here somewhere. It's Flash, the Fastest Man Alive, and I need to talk to you." There was silence, but that was to be expected. She was mute after all.

Still, he thought he would've heard something. A footstep, a pebble skipping over the ground, something. But then he remembered who trained her and he almost slapped himself on the forehead. Bats had been able to sneak up on people with super-hearing, telepathy, and a bunch of other superpowers. If this girl was good—and after everything he had seen and heard about her, she was most definitely was—then he wouldn't know she was here unless she wanted him too.

He sighed. There was no telling how long he was going to be here. Lowering his head, he looked to his left, and then his right, seeing nothing. Yeah, it definitely was going to be a long night. Feeling himself getting fidgety, he began to turn around—

And promptly let out a startled shriek. Standing there as if she had been there the entire time was Batgirl, her head tilted up as she stared at him expectantly.

Jesus! Did he not call this? Damn! For someone that could damn near run at the speed of light without breaking a sweat, Flash's heart was pounding. Did these Bats get some perverse pleasure out of giving mini-heart attacks?!

Hand clutching at his chest, the red-clad man fought to get his breathing under control. It took him a little longer than he would've cared to admit, but he managed to. "Hey, what's up, Bat-chick?" he greeted her.

Batgirl continued to stare at him.

Well, so much for pleasantries. Flash coughed uncomfortably. He wasn't used to someone that didn't so much as flinch at his natural charisma. "Straight to the point, I take it," he muttered more for himself than for her. "I've...come to tell you...something…" Dear Lord, this was going to be harder than he thought, and he already thought it was going to be tough. "...about Batman."

At this, the girl's head perked up. There was something so...so trusting about her gaze that it made Flash pause. He began to feel sick to his stomach. "Well, you see, the thing is…" Damn it, why couldn't he just say it?

Suddenly, he felt a gloved him touch his face. Jerking his head, he saw Batgirl had placed her hand against his cheek. It was surprisingly comforting. It was almost as if she could tell he had something important to say and was doing...well, whatever she thought would help.

Sadly, it had the opposite reaction. Here she was comforting him when it should've been the other way around. God, he had messed this up. Backing up a step, and subsequently removing the girl's hand from his face, he said, "Listen to me for a second. Something has happened to Batman."

That got Batgirl's attention. Her entire body seemed to stiffen at his words. "We were in a mission earlier in the night. He was helping us out and all and, well, he's not going to be coming home."

Barely a heartbeat passed before he amended, "Tonight. He won't be home tonight." Why? Why did you say that? He had said the important part, so why did he backtrack? Stupid! Stupid! "What I mean is, he's on—" Okay, what would make sense to a Bat-person? "—on a mission! Yeah, that's it! He's on a mission for the League and he won't be back for awhile. He's going undercover...deep undercover."

Six feet to be exact.

The dark-clad girl tilted her head to a side as if contemplating that, or at least that's what Flash hoped she was doing. For all he knew, she didn't believe him at all. Heh, if he was in her combat-designed boots, he wouldn't believe him.

His eyes found their way to the ground. What was he doing? Why use the euphemisms? He was allegedly the one best with kids, which is why he volunteered for this. Maybe someone else should've come down here instead. Alright, it was time to man up. Straightening his shoulders, Flash looked back up to the girl—

Only to find she was nowhere in sight. Oh. Great. She's gone. "Well, that was a nice chat," he said sarcastically. "I guess I'll see you around."

In a flash, he was out of there. Perhaps this was best. Maybe later he could come up with a better way to say what he wanted and actually say it. Yeah, that was it. He just needed a moment to better compose himself.

At least, that's what Flash told himself.

The Anthony Shadid Award is a real award for ethics in journalism. I wanted to make sure such an award existed before making one up and this is what my searching gave me.

To Guest: I'm curious to know what this reminds you of.