Location: Oa
Date: June 14, 2010
Time: 13:51
Emmy flew down to the training platform where Kilowag was helping the newest lantern from sector 5783.
"Ay, Kilo," she flew down to his level and rested an elbow on his shoulder. "Hear about my latest heroic efforts?"
The Bolovaxian rolled his eyes.
"You mean did I hear about you prematurely answering a call for a sector 4587 Lantern and heading out on your own?"
Emmy landed in front of him with crossed arms.
"I'm not the newest one anymore, Kilowag," she nodded at the fresh meat struggling to make a sphere with their ring. "I know that I'm the youngest GL in Earth history, so I understood that the extra training was necessary."
Emmy thought about the full month Kilowag made her spend in the archives learning the history of the Green Lantern Corps and the various call codes and their meanings. This interminable, although admittedly interesting month, had been immediately followed by five weeks of studying how to conduct herself in various sectors, how to avoid causing inter and/or intragalactic incidents, and which sectors she was not allowed to enter without special permission.
The one bright side of her training had been the fact that she had an irregular connection with her ring. Kilowag had called in some of the council leaders to watch her train on her first day when he realized that her ring did whatever she asked it to do with no resistance. They believed that Emmy might be her ring's "Intended Wearer". There hadn't been one of those in a millennium, so she had quickly gotten a reputation in the corps. She didn't talk about it, but Emmy still felt out of place among the group of heroes. It was uncomfortable when Lanterns who had years of experience on her asked to see her make a structure. Especially when she had to deal with the fact that she did not have a very impressive imagination. Her structures were typically confined to hands, weapons she had used before, or geometric shapes. She just didn't have the creativity to make a giant Hot wheels track or a massive Russian nesting doll set. However, the structures she did make, simple as they might have been, were stronger and lasted longer than those made by any of her peers.
Unfortunately, her technical success didn't change the fact that she had spent her 16th birthday on a planet lightyears from home. And it also didn't stop her from missing Sage and Hunter every day she spent training. It had been four months, and she was more than ready to go back home. Emmy could only imagine that after so long of Bobby failing to find any trace of her that he would had given up the search. He was neither a patient nor an intelligent man. Emerald was ready to see her kids, apologize for being gone longer than she expected, and show them how much better their life would be. She had been looking forward to going home since the moment she found out she was Sector 2814's shiniest GL, but she had consented to the extra-long training because she wanted to make sure that she passed the time when being around her would put her kids in danger. That was what she was telling herself, at least.
In the last four weeks, she had done nine successful missions. And today she had stopped a Gordanian slave ship, turned the kidnappers into the galactic high council for anti-slavery, and had the kidnapping victims on ships back to their home worlds within 5 hours. All by herself. She was ready to go home, and she was more than competent enough to be cleared for service.
Emerald looked up at Kilowag and squared her shoulders. "I am going home today. Regardless of whether or not you officially clear me for active duty."
Kilowag glared at her for a tense minute before sighing in defeat.
"We all know that your strength is there, but you need more time and practice to realize your full potential."
"Yeah, of course," Emmy nodded pointedly. "But time and practice on my own planet protecting my own sector."
"Code 413," Kilowag snapped.
"A lantern is being persecuted in an attempt to take their ring."
"Code 6128."
"A diplomat is having an allergic reaction and requires quick passage to a medical facility."
"Code 378."
She smirked at her trainer, "A slave ship has been identified in the specified sector. Come on, I just answered that one this morning."
Kilowag grunted at her approvingly.
"I'm leaving, Kilo," she held out her hand for him to shake. "Thank you very much for your help."
He held her gaze unmoving for so long that Emerald thought she might actually have to leave without his approval, but then he finally shook her hand.
"May our rings cross paths again, Green Lantern," he nodded at her.
Emmy released her held breath and beamed at him. "May our rings cross paths again."
She quickly flew to her room. Her mentor had deemed her training complete. She was a full-fledged Green Lantern. She got to go home.
Emerald grabbed her lantern and took a second to observe the room she had woken up in for the first time in February. It had been an insane adjustment having a ring move her unconscious body to an alien planet, but she had had to leave Bludhaven anyway, so learning to harness an elusive and ancient power wasn't a horrible way to kill some time. She was glad that she had remembered to get some normal clothes last week. The sports bra and leggings she had been wearing when she arrived on Oa had been decimated after her first time using the ring. On Oa everyone had their rings activated all the time, so she had just slept naked each night or whenever she charged her ring. The ring usually got between 24-35 hours of charge depending on how often she actively used it. She usually got the full 35 hours, which her fellow Lanterns used as further evidence to their whole "Intended Wearer" theory.
Emmy didn't exactly want to fly home naked underneath her suit. She wasn't 100% sure how it worked, but she knew that the ring essentially sent your clothes into a different dimension and put them back on your body when you powered your ring down. She had requested that an outfit from earth get zeta beamed to her a few days ago when she decided she was ready to go back to earth. Emmy powered down her ring and threw on the black V-neck halter top with built-in bra, a leather jacket, black jeggings, and aqua blue converse. She grabbed her lantern from behind her bed, switched back to her uniform, and flew to the transport center. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck, smiling at the earth's orbit on the holographic table. Seeing your intended target before leaving Oa helped you channel your ring's energy better and let you fly faster.
Emmy closed her eyes and pictured her apartment in Bludhaven. She let energy from her ring build and focused on going home to Hunter and Sage. She remembered each grain of sand on the Bludhaven beach. The rush of space and time ran around her in a flash of green and Emmy opened her eyes just in time to land in a crouch on the sand, left hand on the ground and right hand holding her lantern. She de-powered and stood up.
She looked at the sky. It was Mid-June in Bludhaven, a notoriously hot time. The air around her curled and swirled along the heat waves and she shrugged off her jacket. Her ring probably had about 25 hours of use left on it, so she didn't need a recharge yet. Emmy bit her lip. She couldn't just walk around Bludhaven with a huge lantern in her hand. Sure, it was safe to assume Bobby wasn't actively looking for her anymore, but if someone saw her it would still cause problems. Flying wasn't a good idea either because everyone knew heroes don't come around here often so it would bring too much attention to her.
Eventually, she decided to hide the lantern and ring in a barrel with her jacket on top of them. Her hair was longer, down between her shoulder blades, and partially green now, so she hoped she wouldn't be quite as recognizable. It was also the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday so Bobby's hoodlums should still be sleeping off their Saturday binges or preparing for any problems that might happen tonight.
Emmy could figure that out later. Right now, she just wanted to get home to her kids. She walked through her city at a brisk pace but didn't run. She hadn't realized it until she got back, but she had really missed earth. Pollution, corruption, heartbreak, and all. Oa was a training planet. It was an oasis of sorts that almost didn't feel like a real place. It was a vacation. It wasn't a home.
Emmy snagged a black ballcap from an outdoor stand when the vendor wasn't looking and pulled her hair through it in a ponytail. Any extra part of her face that she could hide would be beneficial. With each fighting couple, cracked building front, and dilapidated road she passed her heart soared higher and Emmy struggled to repress her grin. She was finally home. She would finally see her kids again and they would finally move on from this hellhole and start new.
Her pace quickened as she got closer to the Ramirez's old apartment building and she ran past the perpetually broken elevator and shot up the stairs to the 14th and final floor. That Ramirez's owned the whole building and they lived in apartment 1401 right next to her family's in 1402. The top floor only had two rooms and they were connected through a door in each apartment's respective kitchen. The 14th floor was the safest, so Mrs. Ramirez had forced her husband to give Emmy and her siblings 1402 when she saw how young they were. Emmy was practically buzzing when she knocked on the door to 1401. She figured that the kids would have spent most of their time in 1401 since her absence. She was home.
She waited. No one answered. She knocked again. No reply. She knocked again and heard a low moan. There was no light coming from underneath either of the apartment doors and panic gnawed at her stomach. Her brows furrowed and she abruptly kicked down the door.
The stench upon entering the dark apartment was overwhelming. She gagged and brought a hand to her nose. The curtains were drawn. The only light was coming from the hallway she had just left. Bottles of alcohol, most of them broken, were strewn about the apartment. Rotting food on the kitchen table was a frenzied mating site for dozens of flies. Emmy had changed enough diapers in her life to recognize the putrid scent of stale urine, and there were piles of shit in various spots on the stained grey carpet. A hunched over figure was on the couch. Emmy threw open the curtain behind the figure and jerked the window up desperately breathing in some comparatively fresh air. She turned to the figure and shook its shoulders.
"Mr. Ramirez."
He groaned numbly and, in the light, she could see that he was naked except for the half empty bottle of scotch in his lap.
"Ramirez!" She snapped. "Where are the kids? What the hell happened?"
The afternoon light had elucidated horrible new facets of the filth in the apartment and she set her jaw and glared at the old man. There were two women on the floor unconscious. Their bare chests were moving with breath, but there were used needles scattered on the floor and a couple sticking out of their arms. Emmy let out a shaky breath. She turned to Mr. Ramirez and slapped his cheek roughly. Awareness slowly came to his reddened, hollow eyes.
"Dios mios," he looked at her in terror. "Una fantasma. Estoy en el enfeirno."
Emmy backed away from his stench unamused.
"I'm not a ghost, and you're not in hell. I came back for the kids and the money. Where is everyone?"
Ramirez got a faraway look in his eye and took a swig of the scotch that had been covering his shriveled manhood. Emmy turned her eyes to the ceiling.
"Did Mrs. Ramirez leave you or something?"
He hiccupped. "Si. Esta muerta."
Emmy stilled. "What happened, Edgar? You have ten seconds to get yourself together or I will throw you out that window."
His bloodshot eyes focused on her blue ones.
"Pancreatic Cancer. The doctors found it two days after you died. They couldn't do anything for her. She was gone by March." Snot and tears were running down his wrinkled face.
Tears pricked at Emmy's eyes as she gave a moment of thought to the only woman who had ever given her and her siblings a semblance of kindness.
"I'm sorry, Edgar," she grimaced at the poop he had smeared across the couch and prayed to a God she wasn't sure she believed in that he had just recently lost his mind and the kids hadn't lived through any of his mess. "But I'm not dead. Where are the kids? There were no lights from our apartment, so I know they're not in there."
His eyes were looking through her, unseeing.
"I-I thought you were dead. You have to understand. I thought you were de-dead. Like Mirella."
Her stomach was doing uncomfortable flips and dread made her blood pump faster.
"Edgar," her voice was stern, deceptively calm in a way that barely concealed the inferno rising beneath. "What did you do?"
His ramble continued.
"I'm t-too old to raise two kids. And I didn't have any mo-money."
"What are you talking about? I left a fortune with you!"
"S'gone." He took another gulp.
"What?" Her voice was ice.
"Spent it on hospital bills. Then on the apartment debt. Then on girls 'n' drinks." His arm raised the bottle of scotch again, but she yanked it from his hands.
"Where. Are. My. Children?" Each word punctuated with a clipped jaw and the promise of death.
Edgar had the audacity to make a pained face.
"Sold 'em."
Emmy's ears were ringing, and the room started to spin. She could feel her breath quickening to hyperventilation and her eyes unfocused as she took a step backwards to keep from falling over.
Stop it, came the unwelcome voice of her father in her head. No panicking. You panic, you die. Gather information and then kill the bastard.
She hadn't heard her father's voice since getting the ring and the shock brought her back to the treacherous room and coward in front of her. She took a single, calming breath.
Emmy stared at Edgar with an unreadable face and dangled the alcohol in front of him.
"When did you sell them and to whom?"
Edgar hiccupped again.
"It was last week. Got word that the Joker was looking for some kids to stick in freezers for a little while. One grand a pop."
He reached for the bottle, but Emmy's cool facade broke way for the fires of hell. She threw the bottle into the kitchen and it shattered against the refrigerator with such a loud crash that one of the prostitutes on the floor twitched awake.
"You sold my children for two thousand dollars?" She was seething.
Edgar's head fell back against the couch as though to sleep.
"Didn't know you was comin' back. Thought you dead. Done talking."
Her hands were around his throat before she thought to move them. She squeezed his neck with a blinding rage she hadn't felt in six years. His face was turning red. His eyes bugged. His arthritic hands grasped at her strong ones.
"You worthless piece of shit," her voice was so low she almost couldn't hear it over his struggling gasps. "You will answer my questions, or I will tear your spine from your body vertebrae by vertebrae just to see if you actually have one."
His bugging eyes were the clearest they had been since she arrived, and she threw him onto the ground. He grasped at his bruised neck and wheezed for air.
She crouched down next to him.
"Who did you sell them to and where did you go?"
"His name-" wheeze. "Name was John Shader. Buyer for-" sputter. "Buyer for Joker. Joker was getting street kids and selling them to someone else. Shader took the kids three days ago. That's all I know," gasp. "I swear."
"Where does this John Shader live?"
She memorized Edgar's answer and entered her apartment. She needed supplies. She was grateful to see that while her apartment was dusty and damp, there was no sign of bodily excrement or drugged-up hookers anywhere.
Emmy went into her room and grabbed a large black backpack. She threw in the throwing knives she kept under her mattress.
How could I be so stupid! How could I have trusted that horrible man? I know how the world works and I still did it!
She moved to her sparsely filled closet and slammed her karambit and switchblade in one of the outer pockets. Three days' worth of clothes were rolled up and placed to the left of the throwing knives. Emmy had learned to keep her room mostly empty. She never knew when she would need to move at a moment's notice, and her bedroom reflected that uncertainty. Her toothbrush and deodorant from the bathroom. Her mother's necklace and ring from the vent above her bed. Those were the only items worth taking.
Emmy moved across the hall and stood in front of her sibling's room. The door was closed. She hadn't thought Sage was old enough to need her own room yet, so she hadn't minded taking the extra privacy for herself. It helped her keep the kids from knowing just how bad some of her fighting injuries got. She hadn't been in this room since February. She opened the door and her sob mixed with the creak of the hinges.
The room was the cleanest she had ever seen it. The wall on one side covered in posters of Autobots and Jedi. The other plastered with boy bands and Lord of The Rings. Emmy had never seen their room so spotless. Even though they kept their belongings light, there were always a few toys and books strewn about the floor. It was like they thought having a clean room would bring her back quicker. She fell on Sage's bed as another sob racked through her chest. She was a fool. She left them on their own to play hero on another planet. She had abandoned them so quickly. She was no better than their parents.
She had been safe and thriving in a bubble, and she had tricked herself into thinking that Earth was safe for her children. She knew they were only her siblings, but she had been raising them alone since she was 11. Hunter had only ever known her as his parent, and even though Sage had been 6 when the fire destroyed their home, the brain injury she got from the collapsing ceiling on their way out had erased all her memories of their childhood pre-fire. She was, for all intents and purposes, their mother, and what kind of mother abandons her children to frolic in space? Emmy's throat was burning, her heart was racked with guilt, and she couldn't see through the ocean in her eyes.
Suck it up, East. You can cry when you get them back.
Emmy wiped the tears from her eyes and got back to work. She didn't even glance at the packed bookshelf on the wall behind her. Their book collection was one thing about their home she could be proud of, but she didn't have time to carry books with her. She glanced at a few of the rocks lining the shelves wistfully. Her rock collection would stay behind; there was no justification for clumps of pointless minerals that would just make the bag heavier. Emmy carefully placed Monsieur Poulpe, Hinter's orange and green stuffed octopus, and Sage's lavender polaroid camera into the same section of the backpack. Those were their favorite things in their room. Emmy quickly snatched down the collage of polaroids Sage had on her wall, rolled it up, and added it to the precious item section. She put the mostly empty backpack on and looked around. There was nothing else important enough to bring. Three lives and they all fit into half a backpack. Emmy moved back into Edgar's apartment.
The miasma was even worse after experiencing a reprieve. Emerald opened the cookie jar Mirella kept petty cash in and stole every bill inside. She had assumed Edgar put the $2000 in there, and she had been right. Emerald grabbed an unopened 3-liter bottle of Smirnoff and took a long swig. The liquid burned her throat, and her nerves settled an iota. Edgar had not moved from the spot on the floor where she had thrown him. His betrayal ravaged her mind and poisoned her blazing heart.
She grabbed him roughly by the neck and shoved him into a sitting position, relishing the pained noises he was making. She put the vodka bottle in his hands.
"Listen to me you worthless bastard. Que te folle un perro rabioso." She pushed the head of the bottle between his quacking lips. "You are going to drink yourself to death at this rate, and you better do it quickly," her hatred for the putrescent man in front of her could be matched only by that directed at her father. "Because if I ever see you again, I will kill you. It will be slow. It will be agony."
Her voice was the dagger that sliced through Edgar's final strip of humanity. He started drinking from the bottle. He was still drinking when Emmy turned to leave. He was still drinking when she reached the bottom of the stairs. And he was still drinking when she stepped onto the beach for the last time.
Emmy's furry had imploded into a deafening numbness. She opened the barrel and quickly placed the lantern in the main section of the backpack. She rolled her jacket and placed it around the lantern for padding. The ring sat innocently in her palm.
How could she have been so blind? How could she have let the allure of being a "good guy" tear her from her family? She knew how toxic her bloodline was. People in her family didn't become heroes for a reason. She had a responsibility to her kids not to a fucking sector.
The ring seemed to flash with sympathetic rage. She wouldn't use the ring. The mission she was about to go on was not one of objective heroics. It was one of toxic revenge. She would find Sage and Hunter. She didn't care what she had to do in the meantime. She just knew that she had to do this as herself, not as a Green Lantern.
The ring looks at hearts and not histories, She-Tak had told her. Emmy had even started to believe him. She had really thought that the ring might have made the correct choice with her. She was wrong. The ring was wrong. Her heart was blackened by the pollution of man. She would find her siblings however she had to, and the ring would know it made a mistake and it would leave for the next wearer. Emmy would beg Sage and Hunter for forgiveness, and they would move on without a glowing green ring hanging over their heads. She zipped the ring into a pocket and put the backpack on again. It was time to go. She had a date with John Shader in Brooklyn. She would never step foot in Bludhaven again.
