The More the Merrier

July 10, 1941

Wesley peered through the window pane of the JSA headquarters, while Carter leaned on the table behind him. They would be arriving any minute.

"You're sure it's wise to continue expanding?" said Carter.

"I trust the judgement of our fellows."

That answer clearly didn't satisfy him. Carter joined Wesley.

"I don't know any of them."

"You didn't really know us when we started."

"Still, we would be foolish to ignore concerns over our security. Our privacy," said Carter.

A green glow passed into view. Green Lantern with their prospective members in tow. Wesley observed as they walked the steps to the brownstone building.

"It's a little late to call it off," said Wesley. The others were gathered below, waiting to greet the newcomers.

Carter grunted. Frustrated, no doubt. He was a different sort of chairman than Alan. Alan had a caution, a wariness to his decision making. Carter was much more definitive, when he could be. There was also a tension in the man, like a bear trap waiting to be sprung. Wesley knew it annoyed Carter that many of the others treated Wesley and Dinah's opinions with more weight than his own at times. A holdover from their efforts in assembling the team.

"I'm not i calling it off. But, it may pay to maintain vigilance with any new additions."

The place that the Justice Society called home was much more humble than Libby imagined. She had envisioned a fortress or a sprawling manor, not this place in the middle of Manhattan. The interior was larger than the outside promised, but there was an ephemeral quality to it.

"Do any of the team members live here?" said Mr. Terrific. He was a cheery man in a green and red costume with the words "Fair Play" emblazoned on his chest.

"No, we only use it for our meetings and as a place to train," said Green Lantern as he led them through the halls. He had carried the four of them here from a prearranged meeting point in Brooklyn. If any of the others had been as nervous as Libby about being carried by the strange green platform he encased them in, they hadn't shown it.

"Don't make it sound so bland Lantern," said Hourman. "There's more to it than that."

"Like?" said Libby.

"We've got a gymnasium, a radio room, the labs, the artifact hall…"

"Labs?" said Starman.

"Don't let our brutish companion fool you. The JSA's got no shortage of brainpower pal," said Hourman. He was the friendliest of their escorts.

The Atom glowered at Hourman. "This is a soon-to-be physicist you're talking to."

Green Lantern cleared his throat authoritatively to refocus his companions. Libby could tell that the other to paid him a great deal of deference.

"What about the artifact hall?" said Doctor Midnight. There was something to his voice that Libby found familiar.

"In the course of our activities we often end up possessing items that were used in the pursuit of villainy. Weapons, devices, magical artifacts if our stranger companions are to be believed. Many of those are safer here than in the hands of mundane authorities," said Green Lantern.

"Seems risky to have a storehouse like that," said Libby.

"That's why it's the most well protected place in the whole building. Courtesy of Doctor Fate."

It was bizarre to Libby to hear names like Doctor Fate rattled off with such a casual flair. These were individuals who could do the impossible. Who had done it time and time again.

They made their way up the stairs, till they arrived at a meeting room. The other members of the team were already assembled, save for Batman and Superman. Wonder Woman made a point of embracing Libby when she saw here, a gesture that eased her nerves. It still felt unreal to be here. Without even factoring in her other motives.

Hawkman called the meeting to order. "Each of you have been recommended by one or more of our current members. Introduce yourselves for those of us that are less familiar with you."

Mr. Terrific took the opening. "Name's Mr. Terrific. Story's simple really. I'm just a fella that saw wrongs in need of righting and took it upon himself to do so. I work out of Palmera City."

"Don't be too modest," said the Flash. "He helped me put a stop to those crackpots, the Black Templars."

They moved on to Starman, who explained his cosmic rod and his work in Opal City. Libby remembered seeing loads of newspapers that featured his fight alongside Green Lantern with that Soviet menace. It was odd thinking of how vitriolic many public figures had been to the Russians in the past months and years and how quickly many of them shifted since the Germans started their invasion back in June. Being compared with the Nazis had a way of making anyone look better.

Doctor Midnight was next. "I operate in Washington state. Star City specifically." He elaborated on his night vision, his many blackout bomb devices and his medical expertise. Libby's pondering about the man crystallized into the realization that it had to be Charles McNider. The goggles, the bombs, the profession.

"Doctor Midnight was of tremendous help during the fight with Professor Zodiak. Not to mention we've worked together on a few cases in Star City," said Black Canary.

"I think we could use another doctor on the team. Especially one that's so reliable," said the Atom. There was a bite to his statement, the direction of which Libby couldn't tell amongst the team.

"That leaves you," said Hawkman, speaking to Libby.

She swallowed her rising anxiety. "Call me Liberty Belle. I'm from Philadelphia, born and raised. I have abilities...that let me focus sound. Also...I'm no slouch in a fight."

"I can attest to this," said Wonder Woman. "Without her, my battle with Cheetah would have had a much more dire outcome."

"Your powers, is it a device?" said Hawkwoman.

"No. They're….innate."

The others waited for elaboration.

"I was in a...stressful situation. People's lives at risk. They just developed somehow," said Libby.

It was sufficient for the team, as Hawkman returned to the procedural components of their induction. Libby tried not to think of the truth. A syringe filled with orange fluid administered in the backroom of a government building while her handlers reassured her. The only way they said. The only way she could become strong enough, important enough to get even with the men that killed her father. Liberty Belle's debut of stopping a trio of German spies was a cultivated operation, hand picked by the FBI. Something to thrust her into the public consciousness. To lead her to this room, with these people. As they were sworn in, Libby did her best to ignore their smiles, the warmth they gave her. The way that the Flash gave her a knowing wink, a signal that they were all in this together. The pride that beamed from Wonder Woman. Even Hawkman's reticent respect.

If she acknowledged it too much, she wasn't sure she would be able to perform her real mission.

July 18, 1941

Jay Garrick was no coward, a fact proven on a near-daily basis, but he would be lying if he didn't acknowledge that he was currently in the grip of a bad case of jitters. The tux that he wore felt a few sizes too tight and the church felt unnaturally stuffy. It didn't help that his perception of time continuously slowed down to soak in every detail of the scene as he waited by the altar.

The guests were a mix of family and friends from both halves of his and Joan's lives. His parents beamed from the front row, while Joan's father was already tearing up preemptively as her mother handed him a handkerchief from her purse. Former classmates, friends, his peers at Midwestern, even Professor Fox had made it. His friends from the JSA were here. Al, Rex and Johnny looked cheery, in spite of what were no doubt tremendous hangovers from the bachelor's party, a wide roving night that took them through the better part of both Keystone and Central. Carter, Shiera, Kent and his lady friend Inza, Dinah, whom Jay could scarcely recognize without her blond hair and the makeup that veiled her eyes, Wesley and Dian, and even Jill. The musician at the organ began to play as the procession of bridesmaids and groomsmen made their entrance. Elliot was among the latter. As was Alan.

Time slipped and slowed back and forth as Jay's mind sped ahead of the scene before him. All the worries that he pushed down came pouring out. Was this the right thing to do? To cement Joan's connection to him and all the baggage that came with him? It was one thing to be the Flash. It was another to demand someone to bear that responsibility with him, in sickness and health. The vows took on more weight when superpowers were involved. Could he keep her safe? Himself? Jay couldn't bear the thought of her waiting for him to come home without relief. This sudden onrush of doubt was the price to be paid for his powers. The others often remarked about how even-keeled he was. How upbeat. "Giving Superman a run for his money," Dinah liked to say. But, this was the other side of it. People moved through life making decisions as they arrived, with what information was available to them. No one had time to consider every possible ramification. Nor was it a reasonable thing to expect. Jay was an exception. He could take the time. He could lock himself in the bounds of his thought, spin endlessly through all the various paths and possibilities that any one decision could cause. It was a prison carved from his own worries.

Then Joan stepped through the doors of the church. All it took was a single glimpse of her smile, those blue eyes that never wavered from him as she approached the altar. This was not his decision alone. Joan was no fool, no damsel to be rescued. The Flash didn't exist without her courage. By the time Jay spoke the words, "I do," he couldn't imagine a life without her at all.

Kent Nelson was born in the desert. That wasn't literally true, but the man that existed in this present moment was molded from his life in the distant sands of Arabia, under the tutelage of Nabu. It was where he buried his father, slain by traps set before the birth of Christ. Sven Nelson was no longer a real person in his memories, only a marker, of a time before and a time after. Kent loved his father, but he did not really know him.

Nabu was compassionate in his manner, yet there were limits to how much a being of his scale could relate to a scared, lonely child, even one upon whom the ostensible balance of order in the cosmos rested. He kept Kent alive and taught him the essence of what lay below perceivable reality. But, there was little warmth in their bond. Little of what passed for emotional vulnerability. This was a deficiency that eluded Kent's perception until his return to civilization. He was self-aware enough to grasp the irony. He wielded power that could shatter mountains and chain devils, but he was incapable of handling simple human interactions. It took him months to emerge from the Tower without the helm. It was why Inza was the first to get close to him.

This explained what transpired when Kent sat in the pews of a modest church in Keystone city, Inza at his side, watching a man Kent trusted with his life as he spoke the vows of matrimony, Kent's mind mired in the threat that Nabu leveled against him. It was the smile on Jay Garrick's face, brighter than any light Kent could conjure, matched only by the equivalent response from Joan. It was the way when they locked lips that Kent felt something in his chest spill out into a warm flood.

"You're crying," said Inza. Her voice was marked by concern.

He tasted his tears as they ran over his lips, his eyes blurred. Kent looked at Inza and smiled as best he could, his jaw rattled by light sobs. She clasped his hand in hers as he wept silently.

The reception was held at Joan's parent's house. Shiera leaned against a table as Carter went to get drinks. Jay and Joan were in the midst of the dance floor. She could see Rex trying to chat up one of the bridesmaids, while Wesley and Dian talked with Alan. There was a normalcy to the affair that Shiera had been desperately lacking for months at this point. An endless string of conflict and calamity.

"You talked to Jay yet?" said Dinah.

"Haven't had the chance. The Mr. and Mrs. have been inseparable and there's no shortage of people trying to pay their congratulations."

"Figures that Jay's the first of us to be married. Who do you think is next?"

"You taking bets?"

"Not officially."

"Hmmm." Not Rex. Or Jill and Johnny. Al was a bit young, even if he couldn't stop talking about his girlfriend. Alan was single. She had little insight into Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman's private lives. That left Kent, Wesley and ...

"I'd say you."

Dinah laughed. "Funny. I would've said you and Carter."

Shiera glanced at Carter, slowly making his way back through the crowds.

"Uh oh. Trouble at home?" said Dinah, clocking Shiera's reaction.

"No. Not at all."

"Uh huh."

Carter returned to them and handed Shiera her drink. "What are you two talking about?"

"Marriage. Figuring out who's getting hitched next." said Dinah.

"Your conclusion?" said Carter.

"Shiera thinks I'll be walking down the aisle next," said Dinah.

"Sounds reasonable."

"I know Larry would love it," said Dinah.

Carter raised an eyebrow. "Will we ever meet this fellow?"

"He wanted to come to this, but he's busy at work. Gotham doesn't give you much slack," said Dinah.

She stood on her toes, straining to see something. "Looks like it's my chance to finally say hi to Jay. I'm going to take it."

Carter turned to Shiera as she left. "Something wrong? You seem tense."

"Nothing's wrong."

"Shiera…"

"I'm serious Carter." She took a big sip of her wine. A pack of children ran by, chasing one another and crawling under tables. Carter sighed.

"You can tell me."

Shiera wasn't sure it was a wise idea, but she permitted herself the honesty.

"Dinah thought we'd be the next to get married."

"Oh. And that offended you?" His face was neutral, but she saw the flicker of worry.

"I understand why Dinah thinks that way. Why they all do. We're a pair. In and out of the team. They think of me only alongside you."

"Shiera, that's not true.."

She snapped at him. "It is. Don't pretend it's not. There's no Hawkwoman without Hawkman."

Carter recoiled a step. "I didn't know you felt that way."

Shiera tried to soften her tone. "I'm sorry Carter. I care for what we have. But, think of it from my perspective. I had a life before all this. One that I loved. To know that it was all a prelude… to this? To the cycle."

Death and rebirth. A story with only one pattern.

"You don't think it's the same for me?" said Carter. He set his drink down.

"If it is, you don't show it. Sometimes I think you only care about learning about our past lives so you can plot out this one."

"That's not fair."

"None of this is fair."

Shiera grimaced. She could tell from his expression that a line had been crossed. Even in her truth, she didn't enjoy hurting him. There was too much love, too much weight from ages of companionship to ever really change that. Still, he took another step away from her.

The band changed to a slower song. People on the floor partnered up as the singles filtered out. Shiera and Carter watched as Jay and Joan swayed in the center.

"Maybe we need distance."

"Maybe," she said.

The sun was only just beginning to dip. The people at the reception continued to partake in the festivities, buoyed by the vibrancy of the love they celebrated and helpful quantities of alcohol. Jill Corrigan could only linger at the edges and bask in the glow. She was still surprised that Jay had invited her at all. It was a testament to his character that he couldn't imagine the depths of cruelty in the being that he had invited to his most joyous of days.

There was little but heartache in her participation. Where others were moved by the proceedings, Jill was only drawn back to her old life. She thought of the small house in LA with the garden, where Clarice would grow strawberries. The porch swing in the back with the broken chain, the one that Jill promised to get fixed. The neighbors that nodded along with the stories of them being friends, but Jill understood that some of them knew.

Jill had tried to visit Clarice since her death. She had gotten as far as the front door, before turning back. A single glimpse of her through the window was enough to erode any courage Jill possessed. It was bad enough that Clarice heard the original report that Jill was killed. It would be too much to explain anything resembling the truth. Jill was already slipping around her coworkers. She couldn't keep up the act in front of Clarice. She had bared too much for that.

Her brooding was disrupted by Rex, wandering from the dance floor, his hair messy. He offered her a sip of his drink, but Jill declined. Food and drink had no real flavor anymore.

"Not a fan of dancing?" said Rex.

"I'm more comfortable here."

He nodded and downed his beer. His eyes had dark rings under them.

"I'm glad you're here."

"What?"

"You spend so much time apart from the rest of us. I think it's good to be around people."

Jill didn't answer. Rex gazed out at the rest of the wedding party.

"Might even be good for your passenger. Give them a taste of what real life is like."

"And this is real life? Seems optimistic even for us."

He shrugged.

"The world is ugly. Very ugly. But, then you see something like this and realize that love is really out there."

"Have you found it?"

"Hmm?"

"Love?"

Rex wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ran it through his hair.

"A few times. What I thought was love."

"But, it didn't work out."

"No. It didn't"

Jill was silent.

"It still happened."

Keystone City smelled like motor oil and rubber. The fires of industry marked every corner. Even here, away from the factories Clark wasn't free from the scent. The wedding reception carried on over a mile away, open to him from his vantage point on a hill overlooking the neighborhood. With his hearing, Clark may as well have been there, though he eased his focus, to preserve some measure of privacy.

"Nice stakeout you've got here," said a familiar voice. Bruce Wayne joined Clark on the hill, beneath the apple tree.

"You still haven't told me how you sneak up on me," said Clark.

"Trade secret."

"I should've expected you to be here."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I'm having the opposite reaction. It's not like you to hide."

At the reception, Al told a joke that had a throng of guests doubled over with laughter, Jay and Joan among them. Alan stood by the bar alone, while Dinah chatted with Dian and Wesley.

Bruce leaned on the tree. "It makes sense for Bruce Wayne to not show up. Same with Diana. Jay can pass off the others as friends, but we would be stretching it."

"I wanted to be here, but I don't want the others to know me. Not yet," said Clark.

"I find your hesitance curious. But, I can sympathize," said Bruce. "I wanted to see if anyone...suspicious would come calling. Jay isn't exactly all that consistent with maintaining his secret identity. I think half this city has already seen his face. I wouldn't want his lack of discretion to compromise the majority of the team."

This was more in line with the Bruce Wayne Clark had become increasingly familiar with. He was a man who stacked contingency upon contingency. A function of his training. Clark's own reasons for not revealing his secret identity. to the others wasn't a lack of trust in them. They had kept one another's secrets. It was more of a way of creating distance between the two halves. Superman could have his peers. Clark could maintain his relative normalcy. There was a nagging feeling that blending the two could compromise the life that Clark had build for himself. Rational or not, he was going to respect that worry for now.

"It's funny," said Clark. "I grew up not too far away from here. On the Kansas side."

"I know," said Bruce.

Clark gave him a questioning look.

"You've got an accent. More pronounced out of costume."

Bruce turned his attention back to the reception. "That and there's a few documents with the Daily Planet that mention you're from Smallville."

"You know one day someone's going to get upset with all that prying you're so fond of doing," said Clark.

"If it's you, just ring my doorbell. Alfred will be sure to let you in."

The reception wound down, the guests saying their goodbyes and fanning out into the warm, humid air of the night. Alan sat at a table, his tie around his neck, collar loosened as the band packed up their instruments. Most of his friends were gone at this point. They had already bid Jay and Joan farewell, on their way to a honeymoon in Vegas.

He was surprised at how much the ceremony had moved him. It wasn't his first wedding by any means, but there was such a genuine love between the newly weds that he couldn't help but get caught up in the sentimentality of it all. There was another side to it though. A bitter one.

Dinah picked her way across the yard to Alan's table, her hair messy from dancing. Her face was lightly flushed from alcohol. "Room for one more?"

"Be my guest," he said.

She plopped down next to him, a bottle of half drained champagne in her hand. They began to share the rest. They sat for a moment in the silence of a party's end, with the songs of the crickets only just begun. Somewhere on the periphery, Jay's friend Elliot stumbled his way out, his arm locked with his date.

"No luck finding a companion for the night?" said Dinah.

Alan shook his head.

"I think that bridesmaid Sam fancied you. She kept stealing a look during the ceremony."

"That's flattering I suppose," said Alan. He sipped at his drink.

Dinah gestured around at their surroundings. "We'll have to take notes. It'll be a surprise if any of our weddings top this one."

"That's a real challenge"

"I bet Kent could do it, of all people. Hard to beat magic. Assuming of course he ever gets around to it with that gal of his."

Dinah finished off the bottle.

"I bet you'd be a contender," said Dinah. "You're a man of taste after all."

She didn't mean it, but the thought cut all the same. Alan pushed down the bitterness.

"I don't know that there will be a wedding in my future."

This was all a glimpse of a life he wasn't afforded. At least not in any real sense. It wasn't Jay's fault and Alan was genuinely happy for his friend. But, it was hard not to dwell on the matter.

He was suddenly aware of Dinah staring at him, her eyes half-closed from sleepiness or the alcohol.

"You never know Alan. Times change. People change."

He started to reply, but nothing came out. By the time Alan was prepared to say anything, Dinah was snoring in her chair. Alan sat in the stillness of the night and listened to the crickets.

The dream came to Wesley Dodds with a force that he hadn't felt in months.

Bellowing clouds of smoke over the ocean as the piercing gaze of the crimson sun blinded him. He heard the screams of countless voices, the roar of thunder and tasted the salty water as it rushed into his mouth. Bodies swirling in the bloody wake as the waves dragged them under, while shadows flew above.

So violent was his nightmare that he awoke to Dian clutching him, whispering reassurances that he did not believe.