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thejusticelounge2012-03-31 04:39 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2012-03-31 04:39 pm
git me my shotgun / nurse dinah
It had been days. It had been days and Ollie was calm — or at least, calmer. Connor was a grown man, he’d told himself. Connor was a rational individual who never rushed into things and knew what he was doing. Connor was entitled to fall in love with whoever he liked. Ollie was cool with the whole thing. He was better than cool. He was liquid nitrogen Antarctic Blues Brothers super-cool.
— then one day at home he was buttling around the living room tidying up after Mia (the girl was like a little blonde hurricane of cusswords and Body Shop scents) and he caught sight of Connor standing in the hallway by the front closet, holding a jacket. A stupid puffy vest jacket in an obnoxious shade of green that wouldn’t be worn by any members of the Queen household. Connor was just … holding it, shoulders slumped, little nose looking softer and more miserable than ever. Ollie hated it when Connor’s nose looked like that. As a barometer of Connor’s feelings, that little nose was foolproof.
Ollie put down the handful of ridiculous hipster scarves he’d gathered, marched to his bedroom, and opened the drawer with the hidden compartment. Behind Barry’s Flash ring, and *those* photos of Dinah, and Bruce’s cufflinks from that time with the thing in the place, he found what he needed for the task at hand. Grimly, he called up to the Watchtower for a transport.
He was a father, by gum, and it was time to presume on a father’s ancient right to dole out an ass-kicking to the jerks who hurt his babies. Sliding Hal’s spare GL ring onto his finger, he marched out to find Kyle Rayner.
Green Lantern Rayner was feeling good. No actually better than good. It’s like his life since getting back to sector 2814 was like…a succession of hits and misses. At first it felt like all he was doing was screwing up - with the robo-Manhunters, with Connor, with Jason. He’d managed to injure no less than three different people, somehow. He was sorely tempted to run back to the loving arms of mama Green Lantern Corps after that.
But not again. Not another bout of running away from his problems. Talking to Kate and to Nightwing and…erm…’talking’ with Dinah…it was good. It felt good to allow people back into his life again. And after his triumphant (if he said so himself; and he did, to himself) reconciliation with Jason, he felt like nothing could stop him now.
There was just one more thing - one very important, very feelingfull thing - to check off on his list. And even though he was doing his best not to think too much about it, Kyle was sure it would all work out. For the best. Always for the best.
That is, until he saw Green Arrow Sr striding towards him, his eagle eyes pinned right on Kyle. He stopped short, feeling that creeping familiar panic he always had when the one of the veteran Justice Leaguers looked at him like that. That imposter-syndrome feeling. But this time, it wasn’t to do with being a Green Lantern and more to do with being Kyle Rayner.
Kyle decided to hazard a guess, shrugging slowly at Queen. “Dinah…wanted to?”
Ollie was already looking like a thundercloud around the face, but Kyle’s comment sent him into full-blown scarlet furious boiling point.
“You little, incompetent, fuck-up, witless, HEARTLESS, worthless pretender,” Ollie said, voice rising on each word. “I always said you weren’t fit to carry Hal’s jockstrap, much less wear his uniform, and you just keep on fucking proving me right.”
The totally horrified look on Kyle’s face just made Ollie angrier. “Screwing Dinah aside, and beating the hell out’ve Jason Todd aside, and leading Kate into a robot trap aside, I just have to ask you — what the HELL do you think you’re doing with my son?!?”
Kyle cringed backwards with each new insult that Queen spit at him. He wasn’t afraid he was just….jesus. Green Arrow Sr could be really mean when he wanted. Kyle would’ve angrily pushed back -figuratively - if Queen’s source of rage wasn’t driven home so validly right at the end of his old-man rambling. After all; it wasn’t as if GA Sr was entirely wrong. But Kyle really really really hated being yelled at, especially by someone like GA Sr for pete’s sake.
Kyle screwed his eyes shut tight.
“I’M GOING TO FIX THIS,” he bawled out, trying to get his voice as loud as Queen’s. “STOP YELLING.”
Hal’s jockstrap? Really?
“I’LL YELL HOWEVERTHEFUCK LOUD I FEEL LIKE, YOU INSIGNIFICANT LITTLE PRICK!” He was explodingly angry on Connor’s behalf, and that righteousness was valid as far as Ollie was concerned, but he couldn’t deny that letting loose like this was a total rush as well. He’d always had a temper, and a mean streak a mile wide. Being able to indulge those more vicious elements of his personality was disgustingly satisfying, like scratching an itch till it bled.
“And I don’t trust you ONE FUCKING IOTA to make this better for Connor.” Ollie circled around Kyle, shoulders hunched as if they were in a boxing ring. “Being the generous, loving soul he is, Connor claims you didn’t know what you were doing—” switch directions, “—and that you were confused and hurt and maybe he rushed things—” feint left, “—but you and me, we both know the truth, don’t we? We both know that you want the kind of unquestioning love and stability that Connor could give you, but you’re too much of a chickenshit to admit it and commit to it!”
Verbal right uppercut and left hook to finish off, and look at that — Ollie was ten to one he had Kyle Rayner on the ropes. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to use the ring that was humming on his hand.
“What what what?” Kyle said, spinning to try and keep up with Queen, both physically and mentally. GA Sr was circling like a she-wolf, ready to kill for her baby wolf. Puppy? Whatever, that was beside the point. The point was that Queen was trying to get at something. He finally isolated GA Sr’s final shot: We both know that you want the kind of unquestioning love and stability that Connor could give you, but you’re too much of a chickenshit to admit it and commit to it.
Oh.
Oh. Was that it?
Kyle shook his head. “No no mas, no entiende - ahh! You don’t get it! I just…I want to…I feel like….” Kyle then stood up straighter, pausing. He balled his fists at his hips. “Wait. Why the hell am I supposed to be explaining any of this to you? How many times do I have to tell you so stay out of my business?” Kyle stepped towards Queen and poked a finger hard at GA Sr’s shoulder. “You don’t know me! You don’t know what I’m thinking!”
Ollie looked down at Kyle’s finger, then looked up again, baring all his teeth in a very unsettling grin.
“Okay,” he said, gathering all his willpower. The ring, Hal’s ring, it started humming louder on his hand, and Ollie clenched his fist and rolled his neck. “You wanna play it that way, kid —”
He bore down and willed the ring to work for him, and a jolt of bone-cracking pain went up his arm before a big ol’ green prospector boot sprang to life and socked Kyle Rayner hard enough to send him flying. CRUNCH against the wall, and Ollie felt licks of utterly nasty pleasure run through him when he dissolved the boot into a pillar, then a blob, then a person-shaped thing.
Kyle looked up, unfocused, to find a green Hal Jordan standing over him. It looked at him for a moment, then, with a bizarre and unsettling twisting motion, leaned down to grab him by the shoulders and pick him up, slamming him back against the wall with his feet dangling.
Kyle barely had time to recover from - what the HELL was that? a…green boot?! - before motherfucking Hal Jordan was there, hauling him up off the ground where he was slumped, and slamming him so hard against the wall that Kyle felt his head bounce and crack. “Hal…?” Kyle said miserably, but the green light construct didn’t answer and Kyle blinked blearily.
Okay. Okayokay. Okay. This was just Oliver Queen. And Oliver Queen had Hal’s ring. A set of thoughts screamed through Kyle’s mind for a split second - 1) omg Queen is evil and possessed by Parallax and he has stolen Hal’s ring; 2) omfg Queen is fucking insane because he’s just like some insane dude and he has stolen Hal’s ring; 3) or maybe somehow for some reason Hal gave Queen a low-use, low key replica of his ring, one of those ‘just in case’ contingencies that the JL elders seemed to love creating for each other.
Si. That was it.
Kyle grit his teeth, trying not to think about the explosion of pain in the back of his head. He willed himself to focus on Queen, who was standing some distance away, concentrating on his - HIS!! Unbelievable! - created green light construct. Kyle was pinned, but he wasn’t known as ‘the creative Lantern’ for nada. His eyes pooled and filled with green, creating a buildup of immense energy that when it finally shot out, the pressure was comparable to Superman’s heat vision. He effectively lobotomized the fake!Hal, and shot straight through into Queen’s extended, be-ringed fist.
Being something akin to heat vision, it also managed to snap through two of Queen’s knuckles.
Kyle slid back down against the wall, his hands on his knees as the Hal promptly dissipated around him. “I don’t want to hurt you more, Arrow,” Kyle said, gasping and panting. “But you…you have something that doesn’t belong to you and that you can’t possibly use responsibly. I need to…to take…to confiscate it. Give me the ring.”
Give me the ring? Ollie gave a bark of hoarse, harsh laughter. Excruciating pain was radiating up his arm now, a weird warm pulse on top of the sharp bone-deep ache, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that now, this little punk of a discount Green Lantern, after taking Hal’s place and then taking Connor’s heart, now this punk wanted to take the damn ring.
Well, that wasn’t happening. Ollie’d given up too much of Hal to this snotnose already.
“You want it,” he panted, creating a spiky and rough but still functional green-light bow that vibrated in his busted ring hand, “you come and fucking pull it off my finger.”
His hand, jesus christ. But he couldn’t think about that now. He pulled back a bright green broadhead arrow with his functional fingers as blood dripped through the bow construct and onto the floor.
Kyle stared at him incredulously, not even bothering to defend himself from any possible shot that Queen could make in his current state.
“Arrow…” he said, dropping his hands to his side as he struggled to stand up. His head was now swimming from the effort of using his powers in such a focused way, never mind his injured head - which he was pretty sure was split in the back; but he wasn’t going to check it, not yet. His ring was now running on low battery after all the effort it took to get Jason out into space and keep him alive and functional and happy. And now this.
Kyle looked at the green light bow, that was taut and slightly - just slighty trembling in GA Sr’s grip. His bright red blood made small globules in the green light, some of it coagulating, the rest dripping to Queen’s feet. Green and red. Complementary colors, Kyle thought dully.
“Ollie,” Kyle started again, taking the risk to call him by his first name. “I…I don’t think that when Hal entrusted you with that - with a part of him - that he wanted you to use it against another Green Lantern.” Kyle shook his head and struggled not to close his eyes. If he did, he was sure he’d pass out. “Don’t use it on me, Ollie. Hal wouldn’t want that. Not on me.”
“How the fuck would you know what Hal’d want,” Ollie said, but the pain made his voice pinched and wobbly. And not just that — hell, he’d weathered worse and come out still belligerent as a starving baboon — but he couldn’t ignore the kid’s words, in that careful, hopeful tone. Worse yet, in that careful, hopeful tone that Ollie associated most strongly with Hal to begin with.
There was a patch of dark wetness on the back of Kyle’s head, Ollie could see it now, and he felt a spur of remorse. It wasn’t as strong as the anger and resentment and boundless, ranging feeling that something about this entire sitation was deeply and corrosively unfair, but it did jab at his conscience some.
Ollie lowered the green light bow, arrow dissolving with a warm fizzle under his good fingers. The adrenalin had drained out of him by now, leaving only a gobbling, gibbering exhaustion rushing in to take its place. Last time had been worse, last time when he’d used a green ring and Kyle, he’d been there for that too. He was right. Hal wouldn’t want this.
“Kyle,” Ollie said. “Every time I see you, it reminds me of what went down with Hal. Every. Damn. Time.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You might’ve admired the guy, but I loved him. And we had to put him down, like he was a fucking rabid mongrel. It’s a lot to get over, even if it wasn’t your fault.”
He took a long, jagged breath as the bow shimmered and disappeared. “And I am fucking terrified of you hurting my son.” There’s so much you don’t know about him, Ollie didn’t say. So much longing and hurt mapped into his bones, so much awful, roiling fear of being abandoned by yet another person he cared about, so much conviction that somehow it was Connor himself who wasn’t worth the effort. “If you … care for Connor at all, you need to decide. And let him know, once and for all. The not knowing — it’s killing him.”
Ollie wasn’t even sure if he was overstating the case on that one. Wearily, he held up his broken, bleeding hand, noticing dully that his finger’d swollen to a pulpy mess around the ring. “C’mon,” he said. “Get this thing off me.”
“I know. I know,” Kyle kept saying quietly as Ollie spoke about Hal, encompassing a lot more of what Kyle knew without actually saying anything. He didn’t want to talk about…what they had to do to Hal. He just knew. That was it. He didn’t want to say anything more about it.
When Ollie got to talking about Connor, Kyle just stopped saying anything at all. His mind just went fuzzy, and he concentrated on a blood spatter on the toe of his left boot.
And finally, Ollie offered his mangled hand out to Kyle, and he winced. Okay…so that’s four people in about as many days that got injured on his watch. Good stuff, Rayner. Just great.
“Okay,” Kyle said, letting his ring do the work. “It’s not a real ring,” he explained, because he figured it was good to fill the air with something. “It’s a really elaborate green light construct that…that Hal created for you. It’s remarkable, really. The imprint is on you, not on the object. That’s how it has staying power. Because he attuned it to your will and energy, but it still belongs to Hal, in essence.”
And with that, Kyle’s tendrils of green light shattered Hal’s green light ring off Ollie’s bleeding finger, into a million tiny pieces that effortlesly absorbed into Kyle’s ring.
Kyle wasn’t looking at Ollie’s hand anymore, he was just looking at Ollie.
“So that’s another piece’a Hal I just lost,” Ollie said, more to the air than to Kyle. It didn’t really matter that Hal had come back from Parallax. That wasn’t the point. The point was … there were things and people Ollie wasn’t ready to lose.
He almost laughed at the thought. His karma wasn’t instant, but it sure came back with a whammy.
The kid was watching him, worried puppy-dog face and something like guilt inscribed into that smooth, youthful brow. Good, Ollie thought to himself, let ‘im stew and feel bad for what he did to Connor. But it turned out he didn’t even have the energy for some good ol’ fashioned vindictiveness, because instead he gruffly said, “Not your fault, this. Got stuff of my own to work out,” and started down the corridor. He stopped after a few steps and turned. “You coming to the medbay with me, or what? I think you need some stitches.”
Kyle couldn’t help but feel a slight amount of satisfaction knowing he was taking a bit of Hal away from Queen. He knew about their stupid oh-so legendary stupid history between stupid them. Well. Kyle was apparently quite adept at taking Hal away from GA Sr, so why break a trend. It’s not like Ollie would ever, ever let that go.
He blinked rapidly and thinned his eyes, because focus was starting to get blurry. “Med bay. Sure.” Kyle didn’t want to say anything more to the old man, in case Queen flew off his lid again. And he didn’t want to have to hurt Queen twice.
A small voice in the back of his now really painful head asked him ‘so how is Connor gonna react to all of this?’ but Kyle shut it out. If he thought about Connor right now, he was going to break down. Or punch something. Or maybe both.
Holding on to GA Sr’s should to balance himself, they made their way to the Med Bay.
--- --- ---
She was there as a favor. Isn’t that always how it worked? Someone would call in or be unavailable and the big-wigs always turned to Dinah. Because she had nothing better to do? Because she had no life? Either way, Dinah was in the infirmary, the normal doctor-on-call back on Earth at a funeral.
So here she was, acting-nurse to the Justice League. Of everyone here, Dinah had the most field injury care experience. Anything she couldn’t handle was a short teleport to Metropolis General. But hey, she dated a surgeon for several months. That had to count for something right?
She was getting ready to call it a night when the door opened. “Oh, what now?”
“Fuuuuuhh,” Kyle heard Ollie say under his breath, coming to a complete stop and actually taking a step back before Kyle nudged him forward.
Ollie let the kid push him into the room a bit. Was this seriously happening? Was this all some kind of massive cosmic joke?
“Dinah,” he said. “Uh, we kind of … there was … injuries.” He turned and shoved Kyle ahead of him. “Whanged on the head, looks serious, maybe concussion. I’ll just go over here and tape up my hand, no big deal, make sure he’s okay.”
Kyle looked up blearily. Dinah was here? Dinah was here. “Helloooooo nurse,” he attempted to have swag, but instead just kinda stumbled and had to regain his balance against one of the beds. “Thissssplace, starting to look familiar.”
“Oh, God.”
Dinah rushed forward, grabbing Kyle as he began to fall. She heaved him up onto one of the beds. “Kyle, hold on. God, Ollie what did you do?” But when she turned around, her face fell at the sight of his hand. “Stop right there! That is NOT something you can just tape up!” She pointed at him. “Sit, now.” Oliver was good with pain, he could handle a short wait. “I promise I’ll get to you in a minute, just stay here.”
She returned her attention to Kyle, gently checking his head. “Ouch. Hold on, I’ll get something to clean this up and stitch it up.”
Kyle made a pawing motion after her, but waited until she was back to gather enough strength and lean forward, kissing her on the side of her mouth. “Thank god you’re here, Dinahhh,” Kyle drawled out. His energy was starting to return now that he was sitting. “But then, you’re always here for me.” He bowed his head, allowing her to patch him up. “Please don’t say you have to shave the back of my head? I don’t have a nice enough skull to sport the Lex Luthor look.”
She froze when Kyle kissed her. It was sweet of him, but he wasn’t in his right mind. “Cool off there, Casanova.” Dinah lay a towel across his lap to catch the extra antiseptic. “This might sting a little.” She poured it on the wound, one hand on his neck when he flinched. She dabbed at the injury, huffing when the blood began flowing again too fast. Head injuries always bled more. “Hold still a little longer. Otherwise I will shave your head.” She didn’t need to, but hoped the threat would hold him in place. Dinah picked up the medical needle, beginning stitching up across the wound, knowing Kyle was too out of it to feel it.
Ollie’d thunked himself down on an adjacent bed to wait, watched muzzily as Kyle kissed Dinah, as Dinah gave him the mildest reprimand in her entire inventory. Huh. He’d figured it out earlier, the two of them probably catching a fuck somewhere in the jangled events of the past while, but seeing it was another thing entirely.
Sighing, Ollie shifted to lie down flat on the bed, letting his injured hand dangle off the side and throwing the other arm over his eyes. He was aching from his scalp to his toes, but at least it kept his mind too busy with pain to dwell on thoughts and feelings.
Kyle kept his head ducked low, feet swinging only slightly as he felt the needle stitching up his scalp, but not the pain. It was all numbed by now, and Kyle had been in enough scrapes to not gag anymore at the idea of needles sewing him together.
Anyway, what was worse was the silence. As his head started to clear, the…bizarreness of this entire scene was dawning on him. And he knew it wasn’t lost on the other two in the room, either. Ollie beat him up for thwarting his darlingest son. Kyle slept with Dinah, so that he could stop thinking of Connor for a few moments of time. And Dinah slept with him probably so she could break free of thinking about Ollie. Who she used to date. And now Kyle has feelings for her ex-boyfriend’s son. But then he slept with her.
Right.
“Y’know, when I used to fantasize about how cool it would be to have a superhero family dynamic, this was not what I was expecting,” he said aloud, to no one in particular.
Part of her wished Kyle hadn’t said anything… Okay, all of her wished he hadn’t said anything. Dinah just nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Her hands moved carefully, a repetitive motion of tying up the skin. When she’d finished, she tied it off, taking up bandages and wrapping them tightly over his head. “You need to keep these on for the night, at least until the bleeding stops. The stitches might be a little longer.”
Dinah stood up, going across the room to wash her hands before moving towards Oliver. She bent down to look at his hand, deciding on the tools she’d need to fix it and retrieving them. “Well, you might not be using your bow for a few days. I’d tell you to take a couple of weeks off but you’d probably ignore me.”
“Well, you know me—” Ollie began, then stopped when Dinah looked at him. He was quiet as she went to collect what she’d need, then came back and started disinfecting. He was at the stage where he was hardly aware of the pain aside from a great big formless throb, so he just watched her as she worked, her blonde head bent.
Dinah tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and Ollie said, “It’s not my business, I know that. You and Kyle. I’m not gonna say anything. I just want us — you and me — to … not be fighting.”
He stopped there, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, Dinah,” he said. “Just don’t *hate* me.”
Dinah closed her eyes, leaning down to press her forehead against his arm. “I don’t hate you, Oliver… I’ve never hated you. I just…” She could feel the tears forming, trying to keep them from falling. But her voice betrayed her. “I’m sorry. I’m such a goddamn bitch to you, and you don’t deserve it. That night, when you came by, and I was just eager to get this over with. I was mad, but mostly at myself. No matter what I do, I always screw up. Hell, we both do, but…”
She refused to meet his eyes, even as she carefully stitched the open wounds on his hand. “I’m so jealous of you, Oliver. You didn’t even plan on it, but suddenly you have this… family. You, Roy, Connor, Mia and Liam… I- It’s what I’ve wanted for years now and you weren’t even trying for a family.”
“And I haven’t been fair to you. I keep trying to hold onto this thing that hasn’t really been there between us for a little while. I guess… I’m just afraid that if I lose you, I lose what little connects me to those kids… I don’t want to lose them, Ollie…” It was wishful thinking. Stupid, wishful, unfair thinking. And here she was, dumping her heart out on Oliver, half expecting him to laugh, call her pathetic and leave.
“Pretty bird.” Ollie turned on the bed so he could smooth Dinah’s shining hair with his good hand, stroking strands from her cheek with his thumb. “Do you have any idea what my wild bunch would do to me if I tried to pry you out’ve their lives?” He wasn’t exaggerating, either; from Roy right on down to Lian, the kids were all devoted to Dinah. If not strictly as a mother figure, then as some source of steadiness and nurturing that Ollie knew he hadn’t been able to provide.
“Listen to me,” he said. “You are never ever EVER gonna be unimportant or extraneous to them. I mean, Jesus — you said it yourself, I never set out to be a father. For years I made it so I was more incidental to their lives than anything else. And lucky bastard that I am, I somehow ended up with a bunch of the greatest kids a guy could have. But, Dinah,” he chucked her chin gently, “they’re not just mine, not really. It wouldn’t feel like family if you weren’t still around, in whatever way you wanna be.”
He watched her tears run over his fingers, head feeling hot and hectic, her touch cool on his broken hand. It was unfair, he knew it. It wasn’t *quite* the truth that he hadn’t ever wanted to be a father — they’d tried, Dinah and him, before they learned that butcher Jankowski had seen to it that Dinah couldn’t bear children — but Dinah had always been the one who yearned for kids in a way Ollie never had. And here she was the one who had to see him with a whole brood who he hadn’t earned in any way at all. Life was a series of fucking kicks to the jaw, when you really got down to it.
“I’m glad you don’t hate me,” he murmured. “And, to be fair, you were never any more of a bitch to me than I’ve been to you.” He lay back down, too woozy to prop up any more. “Wasn’t all bad though, huh, wazzit? We had some … some …” he twirled his good hand haphazardly in the air. “Some great birthday cake, in all those years.”
She laughed, but it came out more as a choke on the tears she was trying to stop. “That’s an understatement.” Dinah sat back, wiping her eyes on her sleeve before returning to finish bandaging Ollie’s hand. “I think the two of us have had it real good. Maybe it’ll be better like this.” She held up his wrapped hand close. “Friends, colleagues…” And when she said it out loud, it seemed okay. Like this would work out between them as it stood.
Dinah set his hand down, pulling away. “You should get some sleep. You seem out of it… Do you need anything? Or for me to get anyone?” She knew about his new relationship with Kate and was glad he was happy again.
“Naw, I’m good.” Ollie waved once and then let his hand drop. “Be up outta here in no time, anyhow. Hey, um —” he shook his head a bit to clear it, “— how’s the kid? I cracked his skull pretty hard, I think. Not that he ain’t thick headed enough to handle it, but still….”
He’d never been any good at actual fueled and sustained anger, not when it came to individual people. Multinational corporations and social paradigms of inequality and pizza with pineapple on it, sure, but not so much people … even if they *were* total screw-ups.
“Kyle? I’m sure he’s fine. If you’d like, I’ll have him swing by later. But that kid’s been through worse than an old man with a bow and arrow.” Dinah stood, leaning over to press a kiss to Ollie’s forehead. “Get some rest. Let me know if you pull any stitches or if you need help changing bandages.”
Dinah left the med bay, closing the door softly behind her, intent on seeking Bruce out.
— then one day at home he was buttling around the living room tidying up after Mia (the girl was like a little blonde hurricane of cusswords and Body Shop scents) and he caught sight of Connor standing in the hallway by the front closet, holding a jacket. A stupid puffy vest jacket in an obnoxious shade of green that wouldn’t be worn by any members of the Queen household. Connor was just … holding it, shoulders slumped, little nose looking softer and more miserable than ever. Ollie hated it when Connor’s nose looked like that. As a barometer of Connor’s feelings, that little nose was foolproof.
Ollie put down the handful of ridiculous hipster scarves he’d gathered, marched to his bedroom, and opened the drawer with the hidden compartment. Behind Barry’s Flash ring, and *those* photos of Dinah, and Bruce’s cufflinks from that time with the thing in the place, he found what he needed for the task at hand. Grimly, he called up to the Watchtower for a transport.
He was a father, by gum, and it was time to presume on a father’s ancient right to dole out an ass-kicking to the jerks who hurt his babies. Sliding Hal’s spare GL ring onto his finger, he marched out to find Kyle Rayner.
Green Lantern Rayner was feeling good. No actually better than good. It’s like his life since getting back to sector 2814 was like…a succession of hits and misses. At first it felt like all he was doing was screwing up - with the robo-Manhunters, with Connor, with Jason. He’d managed to injure no less than three different people, somehow. He was sorely tempted to run back to the loving arms of mama Green Lantern Corps after that.
But not again. Not another bout of running away from his problems. Talking to Kate and to Nightwing and…erm…’talking’ with Dinah…it was good. It felt good to allow people back into his life again. And after his triumphant (if he said so himself; and he did, to himself) reconciliation with Jason, he felt like nothing could stop him now.
There was just one more thing - one very important, very feelingfull thing - to check off on his list. And even though he was doing his best not to think too much about it, Kyle was sure it would all work out. For the best. Always for the best.
That is, until he saw Green Arrow Sr striding towards him, his eagle eyes pinned right on Kyle. He stopped short, feeling that creeping familiar panic he always had when the one of the veteran Justice Leaguers looked at him like that. That imposter-syndrome feeling. But this time, it wasn’t to do with being a Green Lantern and more to do with being Kyle Rayner.
Kyle decided to hazard a guess, shrugging slowly at Queen. “Dinah…wanted to?”
Ollie was already looking like a thundercloud around the face, but Kyle’s comment sent him into full-blown scarlet furious boiling point.
“You little, incompetent, fuck-up, witless, HEARTLESS, worthless pretender,” Ollie said, voice rising on each word. “I always said you weren’t fit to carry Hal’s jockstrap, much less wear his uniform, and you just keep on fucking proving me right.”
The totally horrified look on Kyle’s face just made Ollie angrier. “Screwing Dinah aside, and beating the hell out’ve Jason Todd aside, and leading Kate into a robot trap aside, I just have to ask you — what the HELL do you think you’re doing with my son?!?”
Kyle cringed backwards with each new insult that Queen spit at him. He wasn’t afraid he was just….jesus. Green Arrow Sr could be really mean when he wanted. Kyle would’ve angrily pushed back -figuratively - if Queen’s source of rage wasn’t driven home so validly right at the end of his old-man rambling. After all; it wasn’t as if GA Sr was entirely wrong. But Kyle really really really hated being yelled at, especially by someone like GA Sr for pete’s sake.
Kyle screwed his eyes shut tight.
“I’M GOING TO FIX THIS,” he bawled out, trying to get his voice as loud as Queen’s. “STOP YELLING.”
Hal’s jockstrap? Really?
“I’LL YELL HOWEVERTHEFUCK LOUD I FEEL LIKE, YOU INSIGNIFICANT LITTLE PRICK!” He was explodingly angry on Connor’s behalf, and that righteousness was valid as far as Ollie was concerned, but he couldn’t deny that letting loose like this was a total rush as well. He’d always had a temper, and a mean streak a mile wide. Being able to indulge those more vicious elements of his personality was disgustingly satisfying, like scratching an itch till it bled.
“And I don’t trust you ONE FUCKING IOTA to make this better for Connor.” Ollie circled around Kyle, shoulders hunched as if they were in a boxing ring. “Being the generous, loving soul he is, Connor claims you didn’t know what you were doing—” switch directions, “—and that you were confused and hurt and maybe he rushed things—” feint left, “—but you and me, we both know the truth, don’t we? We both know that you want the kind of unquestioning love and stability that Connor could give you, but you’re too much of a chickenshit to admit it and commit to it!”
Verbal right uppercut and left hook to finish off, and look at that — Ollie was ten to one he had Kyle Rayner on the ropes. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to use the ring that was humming on his hand.
“What what what?” Kyle said, spinning to try and keep up with Queen, both physically and mentally. GA Sr was circling like a she-wolf, ready to kill for her baby wolf. Puppy? Whatever, that was beside the point. The point was that Queen was trying to get at something. He finally isolated GA Sr’s final shot: We both know that you want the kind of unquestioning love and stability that Connor could give you, but you’re too much of a chickenshit to admit it and commit to it.
Oh.
Oh. Was that it?
Kyle shook his head. “No no mas, no entiende - ahh! You don’t get it! I just…I want to…I feel like….” Kyle then stood up straighter, pausing. He balled his fists at his hips. “Wait. Why the hell am I supposed to be explaining any of this to you? How many times do I have to tell you so stay out of my business?” Kyle stepped towards Queen and poked a finger hard at GA Sr’s shoulder. “You don’t know me! You don’t know what I’m thinking!”
Ollie looked down at Kyle’s finger, then looked up again, baring all his teeth in a very unsettling grin.
“Okay,” he said, gathering all his willpower. The ring, Hal’s ring, it started humming louder on his hand, and Ollie clenched his fist and rolled his neck. “You wanna play it that way, kid —”
He bore down and willed the ring to work for him, and a jolt of bone-cracking pain went up his arm before a big ol’ green prospector boot sprang to life and socked Kyle Rayner hard enough to send him flying. CRUNCH against the wall, and Ollie felt licks of utterly nasty pleasure run through him when he dissolved the boot into a pillar, then a blob, then a person-shaped thing.
Kyle looked up, unfocused, to find a green Hal Jordan standing over him. It looked at him for a moment, then, with a bizarre and unsettling twisting motion, leaned down to grab him by the shoulders and pick him up, slamming him back against the wall with his feet dangling.
Kyle barely had time to recover from - what the HELL was that? a…green boot?! - before motherfucking Hal Jordan was there, hauling him up off the ground where he was slumped, and slamming him so hard against the wall that Kyle felt his head bounce and crack. “Hal…?” Kyle said miserably, but the green light construct didn’t answer and Kyle blinked blearily.
Okay. Okayokay. Okay. This was just Oliver Queen. And Oliver Queen had Hal’s ring. A set of thoughts screamed through Kyle’s mind for a split second - 1) omg Queen is evil and possessed by Parallax and he has stolen Hal’s ring; 2) omfg Queen is fucking insane because he’s just like some insane dude and he has stolen Hal’s ring; 3) or maybe somehow for some reason Hal gave Queen a low-use, low key replica of his ring, one of those ‘just in case’ contingencies that the JL elders seemed to love creating for each other.
Si. That was it.
Kyle grit his teeth, trying not to think about the explosion of pain in the back of his head. He willed himself to focus on Queen, who was standing some distance away, concentrating on his - HIS!! Unbelievable! - created green light construct. Kyle was pinned, but he wasn’t known as ‘the creative Lantern’ for nada. His eyes pooled and filled with green, creating a buildup of immense energy that when it finally shot out, the pressure was comparable to Superman’s heat vision. He effectively lobotomized the fake!Hal, and shot straight through into Queen’s extended, be-ringed fist.
Being something akin to heat vision, it also managed to snap through two of Queen’s knuckles.
Kyle slid back down against the wall, his hands on his knees as the Hal promptly dissipated around him. “I don’t want to hurt you more, Arrow,” Kyle said, gasping and panting. “But you…you have something that doesn’t belong to you and that you can’t possibly use responsibly. I need to…to take…to confiscate it. Give me the ring.”
Give me the ring? Ollie gave a bark of hoarse, harsh laughter. Excruciating pain was radiating up his arm now, a weird warm pulse on top of the sharp bone-deep ache, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that now, this little punk of a discount Green Lantern, after taking Hal’s place and then taking Connor’s heart, now this punk wanted to take the damn ring.
Well, that wasn’t happening. Ollie’d given up too much of Hal to this snotnose already.
“You want it,” he panted, creating a spiky and rough but still functional green-light bow that vibrated in his busted ring hand, “you come and fucking pull it off my finger.”
His hand, jesus christ. But he couldn’t think about that now. He pulled back a bright green broadhead arrow with his functional fingers as blood dripped through the bow construct and onto the floor.
Kyle stared at him incredulously, not even bothering to defend himself from any possible shot that Queen could make in his current state.
“Arrow…” he said, dropping his hands to his side as he struggled to stand up. His head was now swimming from the effort of using his powers in such a focused way, never mind his injured head - which he was pretty sure was split in the back; but he wasn’t going to check it, not yet. His ring was now running on low battery after all the effort it took to get Jason out into space and keep him alive and functional and happy. And now this.
Kyle looked at the green light bow, that was taut and slightly - just slighty trembling in GA Sr’s grip. His bright red blood made small globules in the green light, some of it coagulating, the rest dripping to Queen’s feet. Green and red. Complementary colors, Kyle thought dully.
“Ollie,” Kyle started again, taking the risk to call him by his first name. “I…I don’t think that when Hal entrusted you with that - with a part of him - that he wanted you to use it against another Green Lantern.” Kyle shook his head and struggled not to close his eyes. If he did, he was sure he’d pass out. “Don’t use it on me, Ollie. Hal wouldn’t want that. Not on me.”
“How the fuck would you know what Hal’d want,” Ollie said, but the pain made his voice pinched and wobbly. And not just that — hell, he’d weathered worse and come out still belligerent as a starving baboon — but he couldn’t ignore the kid’s words, in that careful, hopeful tone. Worse yet, in that careful, hopeful tone that Ollie associated most strongly with Hal to begin with.
There was a patch of dark wetness on the back of Kyle’s head, Ollie could see it now, and he felt a spur of remorse. It wasn’t as strong as the anger and resentment and boundless, ranging feeling that something about this entire sitation was deeply and corrosively unfair, but it did jab at his conscience some.
Ollie lowered the green light bow, arrow dissolving with a warm fizzle under his good fingers. The adrenalin had drained out of him by now, leaving only a gobbling, gibbering exhaustion rushing in to take its place. Last time had been worse, last time when he’d used a green ring and Kyle, he’d been there for that too. He was right. Hal wouldn’t want this.
“Kyle,” Ollie said. “Every time I see you, it reminds me of what went down with Hal. Every. Damn. Time.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You might’ve admired the guy, but I loved him. And we had to put him down, like he was a fucking rabid mongrel. It’s a lot to get over, even if it wasn’t your fault.”
He took a long, jagged breath as the bow shimmered and disappeared. “And I am fucking terrified of you hurting my son.” There’s so much you don’t know about him, Ollie didn’t say. So much longing and hurt mapped into his bones, so much awful, roiling fear of being abandoned by yet another person he cared about, so much conviction that somehow it was Connor himself who wasn’t worth the effort. “If you … care for Connor at all, you need to decide. And let him know, once and for all. The not knowing — it’s killing him.”
Ollie wasn’t even sure if he was overstating the case on that one. Wearily, he held up his broken, bleeding hand, noticing dully that his finger’d swollen to a pulpy mess around the ring. “C’mon,” he said. “Get this thing off me.”
“I know. I know,” Kyle kept saying quietly as Ollie spoke about Hal, encompassing a lot more of what Kyle knew without actually saying anything. He didn’t want to talk about…what they had to do to Hal. He just knew. That was it. He didn’t want to say anything more about it.
When Ollie got to talking about Connor, Kyle just stopped saying anything at all. His mind just went fuzzy, and he concentrated on a blood spatter on the toe of his left boot.
And finally, Ollie offered his mangled hand out to Kyle, and he winced. Okay…so that’s four people in about as many days that got injured on his watch. Good stuff, Rayner. Just great.
“Okay,” Kyle said, letting his ring do the work. “It’s not a real ring,” he explained, because he figured it was good to fill the air with something. “It’s a really elaborate green light construct that…that Hal created for you. It’s remarkable, really. The imprint is on you, not on the object. That’s how it has staying power. Because he attuned it to your will and energy, but it still belongs to Hal, in essence.”
And with that, Kyle’s tendrils of green light shattered Hal’s green light ring off Ollie’s bleeding finger, into a million tiny pieces that effortlesly absorbed into Kyle’s ring.
Kyle wasn’t looking at Ollie’s hand anymore, he was just looking at Ollie.
“So that’s another piece’a Hal I just lost,” Ollie said, more to the air than to Kyle. It didn’t really matter that Hal had come back from Parallax. That wasn’t the point. The point was … there were things and people Ollie wasn’t ready to lose.
He almost laughed at the thought. His karma wasn’t instant, but it sure came back with a whammy.
The kid was watching him, worried puppy-dog face and something like guilt inscribed into that smooth, youthful brow. Good, Ollie thought to himself, let ‘im stew and feel bad for what he did to Connor. But it turned out he didn’t even have the energy for some good ol’ fashioned vindictiveness, because instead he gruffly said, “Not your fault, this. Got stuff of my own to work out,” and started down the corridor. He stopped after a few steps and turned. “You coming to the medbay with me, or what? I think you need some stitches.”
Kyle couldn’t help but feel a slight amount of satisfaction knowing he was taking a bit of Hal away from Queen. He knew about their stupid oh-so legendary stupid history between stupid them. Well. Kyle was apparently quite adept at taking Hal away from GA Sr, so why break a trend. It’s not like Ollie would ever, ever let that go.
He blinked rapidly and thinned his eyes, because focus was starting to get blurry. “Med bay. Sure.” Kyle didn’t want to say anything more to the old man, in case Queen flew off his lid again. And he didn’t want to have to hurt Queen twice.
A small voice in the back of his now really painful head asked him ‘so how is Connor gonna react to all of this?’ but Kyle shut it out. If he thought about Connor right now, he was going to break down. Or punch something. Or maybe both.
Holding on to GA Sr’s should to balance himself, they made their way to the Med Bay.
--- --- ---
She was there as a favor. Isn’t that always how it worked? Someone would call in or be unavailable and the big-wigs always turned to Dinah. Because she had nothing better to do? Because she had no life? Either way, Dinah was in the infirmary, the normal doctor-on-call back on Earth at a funeral.
So here she was, acting-nurse to the Justice League. Of everyone here, Dinah had the most field injury care experience. Anything she couldn’t handle was a short teleport to Metropolis General. But hey, she dated a surgeon for several months. That had to count for something right?
She was getting ready to call it a night when the door opened. “Oh, what now?”
“Fuuuuuhh,” Kyle heard Ollie say under his breath, coming to a complete stop and actually taking a step back before Kyle nudged him forward.
Ollie let the kid push him into the room a bit. Was this seriously happening? Was this all some kind of massive cosmic joke?
“Dinah,” he said. “Uh, we kind of … there was … injuries.” He turned and shoved Kyle ahead of him. “Whanged on the head, looks serious, maybe concussion. I’ll just go over here and tape up my hand, no big deal, make sure he’s okay.”
Kyle looked up blearily. Dinah was here? Dinah was here. “Helloooooo nurse,” he attempted to have swag, but instead just kinda stumbled and had to regain his balance against one of the beds. “Thissssplace, starting to look familiar.”
“Oh, God.”
Dinah rushed forward, grabbing Kyle as he began to fall. She heaved him up onto one of the beds. “Kyle, hold on. God, Ollie what did you do?” But when she turned around, her face fell at the sight of his hand. “Stop right there! That is NOT something you can just tape up!” She pointed at him. “Sit, now.” Oliver was good with pain, he could handle a short wait. “I promise I’ll get to you in a minute, just stay here.”
She returned her attention to Kyle, gently checking his head. “Ouch. Hold on, I’ll get something to clean this up and stitch it up.”
Kyle made a pawing motion after her, but waited until she was back to gather enough strength and lean forward, kissing her on the side of her mouth. “Thank god you’re here, Dinahhh,” Kyle drawled out. His energy was starting to return now that he was sitting. “But then, you’re always here for me.” He bowed his head, allowing her to patch him up. “Please don’t say you have to shave the back of my head? I don’t have a nice enough skull to sport the Lex Luthor look.”
She froze when Kyle kissed her. It was sweet of him, but he wasn’t in his right mind. “Cool off there, Casanova.” Dinah lay a towel across his lap to catch the extra antiseptic. “This might sting a little.” She poured it on the wound, one hand on his neck when he flinched. She dabbed at the injury, huffing when the blood began flowing again too fast. Head injuries always bled more. “Hold still a little longer. Otherwise I will shave your head.” She didn’t need to, but hoped the threat would hold him in place. Dinah picked up the medical needle, beginning stitching up across the wound, knowing Kyle was too out of it to feel it.
Ollie’d thunked himself down on an adjacent bed to wait, watched muzzily as Kyle kissed Dinah, as Dinah gave him the mildest reprimand in her entire inventory. Huh. He’d figured it out earlier, the two of them probably catching a fuck somewhere in the jangled events of the past while, but seeing it was another thing entirely.
Sighing, Ollie shifted to lie down flat on the bed, letting his injured hand dangle off the side and throwing the other arm over his eyes. He was aching from his scalp to his toes, but at least it kept his mind too busy with pain to dwell on thoughts and feelings.
Kyle kept his head ducked low, feet swinging only slightly as he felt the needle stitching up his scalp, but not the pain. It was all numbed by now, and Kyle had been in enough scrapes to not gag anymore at the idea of needles sewing him together.
Anyway, what was worse was the silence. As his head started to clear, the…bizarreness of this entire scene was dawning on him. And he knew it wasn’t lost on the other two in the room, either. Ollie beat him up for thwarting his darlingest son. Kyle slept with Dinah, so that he could stop thinking of Connor for a few moments of time. And Dinah slept with him probably so she could break free of thinking about Ollie. Who she used to date. And now Kyle has feelings for her ex-boyfriend’s son. But then he slept with her.
Right.
“Y’know, when I used to fantasize about how cool it would be to have a superhero family dynamic, this was not what I was expecting,” he said aloud, to no one in particular.
Part of her wished Kyle hadn’t said anything… Okay, all of her wished he hadn’t said anything. Dinah just nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Her hands moved carefully, a repetitive motion of tying up the skin. When she’d finished, she tied it off, taking up bandages and wrapping them tightly over his head. “You need to keep these on for the night, at least until the bleeding stops. The stitches might be a little longer.”
Dinah stood up, going across the room to wash her hands before moving towards Oliver. She bent down to look at his hand, deciding on the tools she’d need to fix it and retrieving them. “Well, you might not be using your bow for a few days. I’d tell you to take a couple of weeks off but you’d probably ignore me.”
“Well, you know me—” Ollie began, then stopped when Dinah looked at him. He was quiet as she went to collect what she’d need, then came back and started disinfecting. He was at the stage where he was hardly aware of the pain aside from a great big formless throb, so he just watched her as she worked, her blonde head bent.
Dinah tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and Ollie said, “It’s not my business, I know that. You and Kyle. I’m not gonna say anything. I just want us — you and me — to … not be fighting.”
He stopped there, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, Dinah,” he said. “Just don’t *hate* me.”
Dinah closed her eyes, leaning down to press her forehead against his arm. “I don’t hate you, Oliver… I’ve never hated you. I just…” She could feel the tears forming, trying to keep them from falling. But her voice betrayed her. “I’m sorry. I’m such a goddamn bitch to you, and you don’t deserve it. That night, when you came by, and I was just eager to get this over with. I was mad, but mostly at myself. No matter what I do, I always screw up. Hell, we both do, but…”
She refused to meet his eyes, even as she carefully stitched the open wounds on his hand. “I’m so jealous of you, Oliver. You didn’t even plan on it, but suddenly you have this… family. You, Roy, Connor, Mia and Liam… I- It’s what I’ve wanted for years now and you weren’t even trying for a family.”
“And I haven’t been fair to you. I keep trying to hold onto this thing that hasn’t really been there between us for a little while. I guess… I’m just afraid that if I lose you, I lose what little connects me to those kids… I don’t want to lose them, Ollie…” It was wishful thinking. Stupid, wishful, unfair thinking. And here she was, dumping her heart out on Oliver, half expecting him to laugh, call her pathetic and leave.
“Pretty bird.” Ollie turned on the bed so he could smooth Dinah’s shining hair with his good hand, stroking strands from her cheek with his thumb. “Do you have any idea what my wild bunch would do to me if I tried to pry you out’ve their lives?” He wasn’t exaggerating, either; from Roy right on down to Lian, the kids were all devoted to Dinah. If not strictly as a mother figure, then as some source of steadiness and nurturing that Ollie knew he hadn’t been able to provide.
“Listen to me,” he said. “You are never ever EVER gonna be unimportant or extraneous to them. I mean, Jesus — you said it yourself, I never set out to be a father. For years I made it so I was more incidental to their lives than anything else. And lucky bastard that I am, I somehow ended up with a bunch of the greatest kids a guy could have. But, Dinah,” he chucked her chin gently, “they’re not just mine, not really. It wouldn’t feel like family if you weren’t still around, in whatever way you wanna be.”
He watched her tears run over his fingers, head feeling hot and hectic, her touch cool on his broken hand. It was unfair, he knew it. It wasn’t *quite* the truth that he hadn’t ever wanted to be a father — they’d tried, Dinah and him, before they learned that butcher Jankowski had seen to it that Dinah couldn’t bear children — but Dinah had always been the one who yearned for kids in a way Ollie never had. And here she was the one who had to see him with a whole brood who he hadn’t earned in any way at all. Life was a series of fucking kicks to the jaw, when you really got down to it.
“I’m glad you don’t hate me,” he murmured. “And, to be fair, you were never any more of a bitch to me than I’ve been to you.” He lay back down, too woozy to prop up any more. “Wasn’t all bad though, huh, wazzit? We had some … some …” he twirled his good hand haphazardly in the air. “Some great birthday cake, in all those years.”
She laughed, but it came out more as a choke on the tears she was trying to stop. “That’s an understatement.” Dinah sat back, wiping her eyes on her sleeve before returning to finish bandaging Ollie’s hand. “I think the two of us have had it real good. Maybe it’ll be better like this.” She held up his wrapped hand close. “Friends, colleagues…” And when she said it out loud, it seemed okay. Like this would work out between them as it stood.
Dinah set his hand down, pulling away. “You should get some sleep. You seem out of it… Do you need anything? Or for me to get anyone?” She knew about his new relationship with Kate and was glad he was happy again.
“Naw, I’m good.” Ollie waved once and then let his hand drop. “Be up outta here in no time, anyhow. Hey, um —” he shook his head a bit to clear it, “— how’s the kid? I cracked his skull pretty hard, I think. Not that he ain’t thick headed enough to handle it, but still….”
He’d never been any good at actual fueled and sustained anger, not when it came to individual people. Multinational corporations and social paradigms of inequality and pizza with pineapple on it, sure, but not so much people … even if they *were* total screw-ups.
“Kyle? I’m sure he’s fine. If you’d like, I’ll have him swing by later. But that kid’s been through worse than an old man with a bow and arrow.” Dinah stood, leaning over to press a kiss to Ollie’s forehead. “Get some rest. Let me know if you pull any stitches or if you need help changing bandages.”
Dinah left the med bay, closing the door softly behind her, intent on seeking Bruce out.