As was becoming the norm, Diana found her father in the garage yet again, toiling away in his work area. The Firebird she'd spied several months ago looked brand new, the once weathered frame restored to its former glory. The overhead lights gave it a luminous finish, the pearlescent white paint glistening. Of course, no Firebird was complete without a screaming fiery chicken on the hood.

As much as his near-obsession got on her nerves, she had to admit: he'd done a damn good job.

"Knock, knock," she said, rapping her knuckles against an old Volvo. His next project, most likely. She received a grunt in return. Not surprising, considering they hadn't spoken much lately. She let out a snort at the realization of where her 'determination' came from. "You spend too long like that, and you'll have a hump like a camel," she said to his hunched form, currently leaning over the engine.

"I take it you're only here to piss me off?" he asked without looking.

"No," she sighed, trying not to let her stubbornness kick in. "I came to check up on you. You... know you've been in here for like, three days, right? I only ever see you when you're going to the bathroom or grabbing something from the fridge." Nothing but the sound of him working. "Do you need any help?" she tried.

"Diana..."

"What? I'm just trying to help. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm worried?"

He stopped working and stretched, back and joints cracking. "About what?"

"You and Mom fight like cats and dogs now. I'm not saying she doesn't get her licks in, but..." She steeled herself. As much as she didn't want to do it, he needed to hear it. It was her last resort. "Honestly? You've been kind of an asshole lately, and that's putting it nicely." She jolted when he slammed the hood.

They both stood in tense silence. Diana debated turning around and leaving. She watched her father's shoulders rise in time with a deep breath before he let it out.

"How about a ride?" He stared at his reflection in the windshield. He looked like he'd spent more than three days in a dingy garage. He had deep circles under his eyes, pale skin and his dark hair looked as greasy as the rags he'd used to sop up excess oil.

It took her a few moments to realize that nothing else was coming. "Um... what?" She didn't know what to say. His posture wasn't giving anything away and his strange new behavior was still unfamiliar to her. She couldn't pinpoint what he might've been thinking.

"The two of us haven't gone for a good, long drive in a looong time, kiddo. You used to have so much fun when you were little. You'd stick your head out of the window like a dog when you could. We wouldn't tell Mom how fast we were really going, it was our little secret." A ghost of a smile formed in the glass.

Diana blinked, finally understanding where this was going. It was his way of trying to apologize. Still unusual, but at least there was some part of her dad in there. She felt a faint smile pull on her lips. "Can I drive?"

"No."

A beat passed before they both chuckled, Diana climbing in to ride shotgun as he cleared away the tools.


Diana jolted and sat up in bed, throwing the covers off in the process. She wasn't sure what had startled her, just that she was thankful she couldn't remember. She sat in the dark with her legs pulled against herself, waiting for the shivers to stop. When her nerves settled and the shadows of the room stopped churning she chanced a peek at the time.

Quarter after three. The worst possible time to wake up in the middle of the night. Too early to start, too late to be able to fall back asleep. Her only choice was to lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep her clouded thoughts from becoming too clear. She wondered if the Battle Force often got woken up in the middle of the night to fight off their enemies. She'd much rather be dealing with aliens right now.

With a deep breath, she lowered herself onto the mattress and folded her arms behind her head. She felt the veins in her neck pulsing from the momentary panic and spent several minutes focusing on her breathing. When the thudding faded she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

Opening them again she stretched a hand towards the nightstand and swiped the worn leather journal off the surface. Maybe now she'd finally be able to get some clarity on its contents. She might even get an answer or two. She sat up and turned the light on to read. As usual, the only things that stood out to her were the increasingly frantic scratches that were notes and a few vague mentions here and there.

It was still just as much a mystery as always, only now, somehow it was even murkier. She gave up and placed it back on the nightstand.

As angry as she still was with Tezz and the others, she knew she needed to go back. This was a once in several lifetimes opportunity and she would not let herself throw it away because of one misdeed on their part.