welcome to the justice lounge

(( this happens after Kyle and Guy talk in the Medbay ))

It really only hit Kyle just how exhausted he was…no scratch that. He’d been feeling exhausted since forever. Since the end of his party, really. And since then, he’d fetched Red Lantern Roy from space, fetched Wally out of his own nightmare, reassured poor confused Jaime, checked on Mia and had a very intense chat with his best friend, mending bridges. Finally. Not counting those hours of nightmaring he’d gone through - Wally was right; it was sleep, but not exactly restful - Kyle now realized he’d been awake for…maybe over three days, now. More? Kyle lost track and he wasn’t really interested in tallying. Good thing he was so young and sparky, right? Riiiiight.

Still, there was another good reason why Kyle had been avoiding sleep. As much as he diverted the line of conversation with Guy, he was aware of what was happening in himself. And he didn’t understand it, except…what was there really to understand? Maybe the fear toxin worked differently for everyone. Maybe…whatever he dreamed and whatever Guy saw - and whatever that goop was that came out of him…maybe that was just a product of the fear toxin. That had to be it. Good enough a reason for now, and so Kyle wasn’t going to think about the why anymore.

What was more important was that he really just…didn’t want to sleep. The idea of going into his bed repulsed him. He was so damned tired and he was bordering between just hysterically keening and passing out right on the floor of the Watchtower. Neither was a good alternative.

( and i will sing a lullabye )

Now that the enemy had been identified, they could try and treat the speedster. Somehow, though, it was working through his system in the strangest way. Even with his accelerated metabolism, it wasn’t working through the way it should. So all there was to do now was wait and let him sleep it off.

Wally’s dreams were steadily becoming ‘normal’ again. Running…not fleeing, just running. Running with Barry, with Jay, with Bai. Fighting sometimes, sure, butwinningthose fights instead of seeing his city get destroyed over and over. Seeing his loved ones killed in every twisted way possible. And always, ALWAYS running from the Black Flash.

Even now, his dreams drifted back to those things. When they did, he flinched and jerked and groaned in his sleep, and his fever would spike up again. He just had to sweat it out, get everything out of his system.

And dream.

Wally came first. He’d known Wally the longest, after all. Well, after Roy; but Kyle wasn’t interested in seeing Roy right now.

It wasn’t like there was much Kyle could do at the moment. He was feeling awful and slightly sick and vaguely weak, not that he really wanted to think about any of that. Instead, he constructed a stool and perched next to one of his best friends, eyeing the bouquet of flowers and madly scribbled card that no doubt Bai had left for her cousin. Not much she could do either, it seemed, other than check up on him. Kyle stroked his thick red hair.

“Hey man,” Kyle started to say softly, but drew his hand back sharply as Wally twitched violently, yelping out loud. But it wasn’t Kyle’s touch that generated that response - it was whatever was going on behind those pale eyelids. Wally’s eyes were freakily REM, and Kyle remained silently fascinated and horrified for a while, staring at his friend’s face.

“I wish I knew how to help…wait.” Kyle lightly punched his own head a couple times. “Of course I know how I can help. Not Bai. She can’t get into your mind, not like…” Kyle looked at his ring. He could tell it was running low, but it still had enough juice to do simple tasks.

Kyle used it to open commlinks, as well as his own mind. “J’onn? J’onn are you around? I - Wally - might need your help…”

( run run fast as you can )

True to their word to Ollie and Kate, they’d brought Roy home, or, at least back as far as the Watchtower. Figuring that Kyle and Hal would want to see how Ollie and Kate were doing in Medbay, Guy offered to take Roy from Hal’s arms as they entered the Watchtower’s airlock. The hiss of repressurization seemed to take forever, and between them were murmured brief and polite words of vague plans to see each other around, get together soon, or remarks about showers, sleep, or meals.

Guy constructed a floating gurney to place Roy on, a bit safer and less awkward now that they were subject to gravity again, and began moving his sleeping form towards Medbay. He was a little surprised, though, to look over and see Kyle still at his side as he turned Roy over to the medics. It was by no means an unpleasant surprise, though, and he wondered to himself if this meant Kyle had had enough time to himself while enjoying the beach on Mogo. He gave Kyle a quiet smile, “Going in to see Kate, or have they discharged her from Medbay already?”

It was clear that Roy was still recuperating, but obviously he lay in a mental and emotional exhaustion, rather than any physical hurt. Still, there was something about Roy that made Kyle want to remain and make sure he was interned safely in the Watchtower, until it was time to release him. Maybe it was because Kyle had brought him in in originally, had first seen that glimpse of Red Lantern in him…and they still weren’t able to prevent Roy from nearly killing Oliver and Kate. Kyle sighed and shut his eyes briefly. No. Not going to think about that.

Instead, he tore his gaze away from Roy and focused on Guy, who was smiling quietly at him, gentle and supportive. It made Kyle flicker a smile back, made him forget everything he was trying to not think about.

( sorting )

Jogging to a stop, Wally grinned and waved at a few kids on the sidewalk, reveling in their smiles and excited tugging at their mom’s hand to point him out. He needed this. He needed some time with his city, away from the League, away from the drama, away from everything. He needed to center and just…be.

Picking up a jog again, he raced around the city just slow enough to be seen. People liked being reminded he was there, that he was looking after them. They felt safe knowing the Flash was always just a few steps away. On his way around, he stopped a couple of robberies, snatched a kid chasing a ball into a busy street, and diffused a hostage situation by replacing the perp’s gun with a banana.

All in a day’s work.

As he turned back at the bridge to Central, he swore he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t all that uncommon, really, sometimes when he got up to speed he just missed things. But…he saw it again, a black blur just out of sight. His heart picked up, part of him knowing what he saw but unable to believe it. The acrid smell of ozone and decay slapped him in the face as he took off again. It was there.
It was behind him.

The Black Flash.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the black clad wraith, claw like hands out stretched and lipless mouth bearing yellowed teeth. Wally sped up, gold and red lightning licking off of him in arcs. The ghoul kept pace black lightning sparking off of it with a deep roar like thunder.
As he looked around, the world moved in slow motion, but he could still see pandemonium all over. People were running, screaming, crying out in terror. Could they see it, too?

No time to think about it, he told himself. Just run, run, RUN!!! If he slowed at all, Black Flash would catch him, and it would be all over. The road ahead of him seemed to stretch on forever, and yet he couldn’t make himself go any faster. His legs ached and his lungs burned, the stink of death choking him.

Don’t stop, don’t stop!

The speed blur around him brightened and fluctuated, then dimmed and seemed to slow down. What was going on? Looking back, Wally almost screamed to see the Black Flash was almost on him. Willing his legs to move, he took off again. He was starting to feel light headed, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t go faster.

Run, RUN!

He didn’t know where he was anymore, running blind in the mad rush of colour and sound. He just knew he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t slow down. His legs wobbled and he lost his footing. His hands came out in front to catch him, arms jarring as he hit the ground and rolled.
He had crashed into a side alley, alone amid the rising pandemonium in the city. The Black Flash was there, looming over him. Wally screamed as the clawed hand reached down, clutching the lightning bolt on his chest.

And everything went dark.

( fast-spreading disease )

Ugh. She couldn’t be sick. Not now.

There was too much going on. And she didn’t want to be told to go lay down because she was obviously not feeling well. God, you’d think Connor was her mother sometimes. What if they found Roy? And… like… left to deal with that without her? She didn’t want to be left out of that.

Mia groaned and turned over on the bed burying her face in her pillow and closing her eyes tightly because christ, what the hell was wrong? She felt like shit. This sucked.

She fidgeted on the bed restlessly for quite a while hovering somewhere between sleeping and awake.

The blonde sat up quickly in her bed in a cold sweat. She looked around her room with wide eyes, knowing she just woke up from a bad dream but… whatever had happened was already slipping away from her. Something about Ollie being attacked or… was it Roy? No, that wasn’t right.

Mia pulled her covers off and slid out of bed turning on the lap next to her bed.

But… something was off. She narrowed her blue eyes and looked around her room. “Hm…” Oh well.

( descent )

The Zeta pad hummed a long descending note as it cooled down. Exhausted, Guy didn’t even step off the rooftop transport pad, he just let his ring float him down to the balcony. “Kyle?” he called, half-expecting to see him in the kitchen or living room. The place was so quiet, and all he could hear was the distant noises of lunchtime activity from the bar downstairs.

“Ring,” he yawned, “Transmit a full report to Salaak on Oa of the recent attack of the Red Arr-…fuck, I mean the Red Lantern Roy Harper…” That was one hell of a slip of the tongue, Guy. You’re tired, but don’t make that mistake again. The Arrows don’t need that pain. “Request any new available info in return, and add this: ‘Salaak, gonna have to break your house arrest to go after the threat, he’s left Earth and Kyle and Hal will need my help to track him down and deal with him. The job comes before bureaucratic spankings, Sal.’

[Acknowledged. Report compiled and transmitted.]

“Thanks Ring.”

[Acknowledged. Warning, you are anemic. Recommen-]

“I know, I know,” Guy smiled to himself, shaking his head. ”Juice, sleep, iron supplements, yada yada. You do your bit, Ring, I’ll eat steak every night, we’ll be good in a few days, right?”

[With adequate diet, minimum recovery time is five days, three hours.]

“Huh. Thought you were faster than that, Ring.”

[Correction. Six days, thr-]

“Okay, okay, sorry!”

He poked his head in the guest rooms, noting Dick, Lian, and Stephanie were all gone. Last he’d seen Kyle, he was staying behind here to protect them. ”Ring, locate Lantern Rayner?”

[Lantern Rayner is 6.53 metres southeast of current location.]

( recovering )

Dick had slept well the first night back, protectively cuddling Damian like a mother bear with her cub, but since the party, he’d felt tired, more tired than he’d ever felt with Guy in Europe. He wrote it off as jet-lag—Lantern-lag?—and stress. The coming home to Damian and Billy, taking care of them; the talk with Wally; the attack on Ollie and Kate; the knowledge that his lover was practically turning into some kind of monster; the struggle to calm Lian in her ever-growing panic; and the now near-painful lack of sleep were all just wearing him down.

“You got soft in Europe, Grayson,” chimed a little Damian-voice.

He was right. How else could they have attacked him so easily? He’d softened, weakened, too used to relying on someone else to protect him. Guy was always there….

“But the Lantern wasn’t there when they attacked,” it said again. ”You were all alone.”

Alone….

Dick shook his head, smacking himself to wake up. Maybe he should make some coffee. Check on Lian. No, Lian was finally asleep; he should let her rest. Damian. Billy. He should check on them. Maybe after he made some coffee.

Damian knows he’s alone as soon as he opens his eyes. Grayson has already risen, and Damian is quick to toss aside the blankets and nearly spring from the bed in his haste to vacate the room. Over the past day, being the sole occupant in any room has filled him with a disconcerting anxiety. It’s unlike him, but he reasons his paranoia is temporary and will fade along with the stomach flu that ails him. Illness can weaken the mind as well as the body.

He’s nearly reached the kitchen when a red mark on his hand catches his eye. He stops in the hallway and holds both hands aloft, turning them to examine the welts lining both palms and knuckles. These marks aren’t unfamiliar to him: Mother’s preferred method of correction for his mistakes was a birch rod applied across his hands, and his skin still bares faded scars from past atonement. But these wounds are fresh, raw, as if the stripes were laid down only hours ago.

Damian keeps turning his hands in wonderment. They don’t hurt at all, but the marks are so vivid. He doesn’t recall being caned in the past few days. He knows he didn’t sustain injuries of this sort from his encounter with Two-Face’s bat, and Grayson doesn’t have the heart to issue such brutal discipline. Where did they come from, and how can Damian possibly have no memory of receiving them?

He hurries into the kitchen, the warm scent of coffee in the air. “Grayson,” he begins shakily when he spots him at the counter, then hesitates. He hides his hands in his pockets and sits at the table. The welts should hurt from rubbing against the starch fabric of his shorts, but he feels nothing. “I require coffee this morning.”

( all the denizens )

Jason Blood did not feel well at all. Being an Immortal did not make one immune from everyday ailments. The only difference is that when most people hurt so badly that they think they want to die, they actually can – he can’t. He had fought through a day of fever and chills, suspecting food poisoning. Living as long as he had, Jason should know better what kinds of foods he can take. But that shawarma looked too good to pass up. And he had paid the price for it.

But now that his system had been run through with a bulldozer yesterday, Jason thought he might feel better today. No such luck.

A bowl of soup was no help either. Jason gave up and just headed back to bed, pulling his blanket over him and shivering. His Chicago suburb apartment felt hot. His skin felt clammy. “This might be more than a case of bad shawarma after all” he thought. A little more rest was in order. Jason closed his eyes and struggled to keep down the little bit of soup he had managed to eat. Eventually, he fell asleep…

His dreams that night were of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln? No not the president. The coin. Pennies. Tons and tons of pennies. The almost forgotten member of the US currency family. Showers and waterfalls made of pennies. Made of pennies. Pennies. Made of. Pennies made of… copper?

( taste of metal )

Dick bustled around the apartment over Warriors, packing what little he had from the trip. With the news of Roy’s attack on Ollie and Kate, he was worried about staying there any longer, not just for his safety, but for everyone in the bar. Plus, Kate had told him to look after Lian, and he’d be damned if he didn’t watch over her.

He sat down on the bed next to her and pet her hair. ”Lian, sweetie. Time to wake up now. We’ve gotta go now, princess.”

Lian’s dreams were not pleasant at all. And the moment Dick’s waking her up she forgets them, simply finding it hard to stop shaking from the rush of fear and the sick feeling in her stomach. Whining in her throat she reached her hands up, grabby hands at him. “My tummy hurts.” She complained, wiping tiredly at her eyes and wanting to cover herself with the blanket and hide forever.

Kyle stepped downstairs after Guy left, feeling sick inside from everything that was going on. First Jaime, then something wrong with Kate, Hal off planet…as much as Kyle was trying to tell himself that people were handling things, he hated this idea of - once more - reacting and reacting. Never acting - even when the Lanterns had tried to take precautions, it still didn’t work. People were still getting hurt.

( nightmares )

Dick stared at the hotel room ceiling, thinking about what Ollie had said. He didn’t seem to have found his peace. He sighed. Maybe he didn’t have any peace to find. A sensei had told him he had a waterfall-nature, always falling, never still. That seemed to be true. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, meditating to calm himself. He just needed time. Things always got better with time.

Cheshire tracked him down with such ease it’s almost sickening how easy-going heroes are when it comes to their well being. Knowing fully well what she planned on doing to him. It has to be precise. She wondered though if she would have to do it in the hotel. It could get so messy.

Dick sunk into a deep half-sleep, running thoughts and images through his mind. His feelings about leaving, his worries about Damian, his stress from Roy and Wally all flit past his mind’s eye, sorting themselves and organizing. What should he focus on? What needed the most attention? What could he just ignore? He was settled deep in his trance, shut off from the outside world, with only a small perimeter alarm around the room.

She got in easier than she expected. Hm. So much for security. Scaling her way into Dick’s room, she unsheathed her knife, eyes glaring at the prone form. She did ever so hate when they couldn’t defend themselves. “Grayson.” She hissed softly.

( fingernails sink in )