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Post By Hatman Sun Jun 27, 2004 at 01:09:21 pm EDT |
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An Untold Untold Tale Of The Lair Legion: "What Once Was Old Is New Again" | |
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Silence manifests itself in many different ways. It can be awkward, leaving two or more people with nothing to say and naught to do but look around and desperately think of something to start or continue a conversation. It may be a sign that somebody has said something so reprehensible that there is simply no response to it and to say nothing would be better than to reply. It can be scary, the fear of the completely unknown much more terrible than that which is known to be feared. It may also be a sign of comfort, that two people care about each other enough that there is no need for words and simply the presence of the other is enough to inspire contentment.
In this case, the three former take a club to the latter. A big club.
Jay and Whitney lay next to each other, staring at the ceiling. For the first in a very long time, they are scared of each other. Desperately they wait for the other to speak first. Though only a few scant inches separate them, they may as well have been on other sides of the continent.
The silence shatters by the shrill, incessant beeping of the alarm clock. Jay calmly reaches over and tugs the power cord loose from the socket. The offending timepiece then joins in the silence.
A polite knock on the door intrudes on the soundlessness of the room. Jay slides out from under the sheet and pads to the entrance. He opens the door just enough to poke his head out. “This is a bad time,” he says softly, then gently closes the door.
“You hate me, don’t you?” comes her voice from behind him. There is a tear in those words, mixed with a small dose of fear.
He leans against the door, hanging his head as he gathers his thoughts. Gathering his courage, he turns to face her. Emotions churn within him and he cannot sort them out. Anger mixes with understanding, love wrestles with disgust, and compassion battles with revulsion.
“I could never hate you Whitney,” he finally manages to get out.
“But you’re disgusted with me, aren’t you? You can’t stand that I did what I did,” she whispers. She hangs her head and hugs her knees to her chest.
“I don’t know what I feel right now. I…” he trails off. “I need some time to myself. To think.” He pulls on a pair of jeans and his jacket.
“Are you coming back?”
“Apparently.”
Jay zips his coat as he makes a beeline for the front door, hoping to avoid detection by anyone else in the mansion. He wants some time to himself before being confronted by everyone. Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it very far.
“Oh my stars and garters, Hatty! You’re back! I knew you weren’t Bucky-dead, I knew it! Wait till everyone finds out you’re back! How did you come back? Were you kidnapped by an evil government installation and bathed in a rejuvenating power source until you could be hauled away to an Antarctic fortress to be regenerated by Kryptonian robots, or-?” begins Dream before Jay silences him.
“Quiet down, would you? Yeah, I’m back. But I need some time to myself before everyone knows I’m alive. Can you keep it quiet for me?” he pleads with his crime-fighting partner.
Dream’s immediate impulse is to launch into a speech about how he has to get back on the horse and renew his zest for life, but the almost haunted look in Jay’s eyes stops him. “You gonna be okay, man?”
“I just need some time to think.”
“Gotcha. Got some inner demons to wrestle with, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“Then off you go, and I’ll be waiting when you get back. Whitney knows you’re alive though, right?”
“Yeah, she knows. See you later Dream.” Jay then quietly slips out the front door.
“Return of Superman trade paperback, here I come!” Dream happily bounces off to his room.
Whitney finishes straightening her hair and takes a deep breath. She prepares herself for the onslaught of questions that are bound to be bursting from her teammates lips. She doesn’t bother with make-up; she’d probably just smudge it up anyway. Bracing herself for the worst, she opens the door to their room.
Standing outside the door is Dancer. “Come with me,” Dancer says quietly as she leads Whitney by the hand. Neither woman says a word as Dancer leads the way to the attic. After helping Whitney through the trapdoor, she shuts it and turns to her friend.
“I know Jay’s back,” she states.
“Everyone must by now,” sighs Whitney.
“Actually, no. He slipped out the front without anyone seeing him,” says Dancer with a slight grin. “Dream did see him but he’s keeping quiet for now, at Jay’s request. And I’m keeping quiet as of yours.”
“Mine? I never asked you to-“
Dancer cuts her off. “The simple fact you two didn’t immediately come to share the good news or get right to shagging tells me that you don’t want people to know yet. I’m guessing it has something to do with your child.”
“We don’t have a child, Dancer,” replies Whitney in a hushed tone.
“But you almost did. I know what happened, Whit. Even though I was dead, I know what happened with you and Jay. Improbably so,” she allows the slight smirk again.
“Oh God, Dancer, I didn’t mean for you to die there! I was-“
Again, Dancer intervenes. “I know you didn’t, Whitney, it’s okay. You were desperate to get him back, so you made a desperate decision. I wouldn’t recommend ever doing that again, but I know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“But Dancer, the scary part is, I didn’t care. I never even thought about the consequences. And then… there was the baby. Mine and Jay’s. And I wanted that too.”
“Oh Whitney,” Dancer winces as she understands something of her friend’s grief. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing ever happened now. I would have died for my unborn child, but Jay made the Hooded Hood revert things to this reality. I know he was right, but…”
“But you wouldn’t have done it?”
“I wouldn’t. I’m sorry Dancer, but I wouldn’t. Nobody knows just what a baby with Jay meant to me.”
“I can guess a little,” Dancer suggests. “You’re the final daughter of a line of brood-mare witches bred for your bloodline and to be the next receptacle of the Demon Lover's seed. All your lineage instincts cry out for you to have a daughter.”
“That’s true,” admits Whitney, “But this child wasn't the Demon Lover's, it was Jay’s. It seemed like I’d finally escaped, that I was free, that I could have a happy ending, everything I’d dreamed of. And my baby could have grown up without the dark shadows that poisoned my own youth.”
“If only Jay would let things be.”
“I begged him to. I so wanted things to be good for him, for us. And now…I may have lost him in an even worse way.”
“There may be some damage done, I admit, but he loves you Whitney. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a love like there is between the two of you. You did make some bad decisions, and there will be consequences, but you haven’t lost him. Just give him some time, he’s been through a lot,” consoles Dancer.
“But so have I, Dancer! I endured complete and utter hell for him and he doesn’t seem to care! I did everything possible and he doesn’t care!” Whitney breaks down, all of the emotion pouring out of her. Dancer cradles her friend, gently rocking her.
“That’s it sweetie, that’s it. You’ve been keeping that bottled up, even in the Hooded Hood’s alternate reality. You did endure hell, but he does care. Just let him process everything. He’ll be back,” says Dancer.
“That was you at our door earlier, wasn’t it?” asks Whitney, looking up at her friend.
“I thought you’d want to talk about what happened in the alternate reality. I was surprised to see Jay answer the door, but that still didn’t change the fact that you needed to talk.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Just wait for him to get back. You can talk things out then, once you’ve both had time to think about things.”
“What did I do to deserve a friend like you Dancer?”
“Just lucky I guess,” replies Dancer with a twinkle in her eye.
Jay looks up at the sign above the door. It badly needs a new paint job, if just to get the graffiti off. He pauses for a moment, then walks through. Just inside the door are three dirty, empty cots, simple gray blankets lain out neatly. A small hallway leads to a small chapel. Three rows of pews adorn either side of the aisle, chipped and well worn. A light shines into the sanctuary from an office to the side of the pulpit, and it is here that the man Jay seeks sits.
Jay quietly makes his way to the office and knocks on the doorframe. “Reverend?”
Reverend Mac Fleetwood looks up from the papers strewn across his rickety desk. “Yes? How can I help you?” Then, before Jay can answer, the Reverend looks harder at the man in front of him. “Praise the Lord, can it actually be you?! Hatman?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Jay replies. The Reverend notices the lack of enthusiasm.
“What is it that troubles you? I should think a return from the dead would be cause for some jubilation, yes?” he questions.
“Well, for starters, I was never technically dead. I was imprisoned in the land of Faerie and replaced by an impostor. And I’m assuming then that the impostor is dead?” Jay asks.
“Yes, he is. In fact, I spoke at his…well, your…the funeral. Still, my original observation stands; you don’t seem very happy to be here.” The Reverend motions for Jay to take a seat on a beat-up couch in the corner, then half-sits and half-stands against the front of his desk.
“It’s how I returned, Reverend. You see,” Jay begins as he launches into his story. How he had been trapped in the mystical land of Faerie by the impostor, and how a boy by the name of Jack had freed him. He had then been pulled out of Faerie and into a world where everything was perfect. He’d had his dream job with the woman of his dreams by his side, and his first child on the way. And it had all been fake, a hoax perpetuated by the Hooded Hood at the request of his love, Sorceress. Jay could have kept things the way there were, but only by sacrificing some of his friends, and that was something he could not do.
“So while I am glad to be out of Faerie, I can’t help but feel hurt at the same time. Whitney made a pact with a man that she knows to be the most dangerous in all the universe, and while I know it was done out of love, it goes against everything I believe in. I’m just so confused, Reverend,” he finishes.
“Firstly, please, call me Mac. Now then, it seems to be that even though you never died, for all intents and purposes you feel you may as well have, yes? Your friends believe they saw you perish in battle, you have no memory of so much time passing, and you’ve been thrust into a harsh reality where you’ve lost so many things that are dear to you.” The Reverend waits for a reply, and finally gets a subdued nod of the head.
“And you feel hurt. That the woman you love betrayed your ideals and in the process hurt you deeply.” Again, the subdued nod of agreement. “For you to begin healing, however, you need to begin to forgive her. What she did was out of love, for you. Never be fooled, love is the most powerful force in the universe.”
“But I thought God was the most powerful force in the universe?” questions Jay.
“Yes, He is. But He is a loving God, and everything He does is out of love for His creations, us. And I can’t help but feel that He brought you back for a purpose. You have much to offer the world, Jay, both as a superhero and as a man.” The Reverend pauses and smiles. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Jay looks up at the Reverend. “As a superhero, sure. I’ve helped a lot of people. But the man, well, him I’m not so sure about.”
“But did you not give up your position as deputy leader of the Lair Legion so that you could co-ordinate their efforts with the rest of the world? You resigned from active duty to become the Police and Military Liaison, and if I recall correctly from what De Brown Streak told me there was talk about expanding that to include government and the media as well, yes?”
“Well, yeah, but-“
“So you gave up doing the thing you love most, taking a direct hand in the saving of lives, in order to serve a greater purpose. With co-operation with the world’s peace-keeping forces you save the team from endless red tape that could hamper their response time to a threat or even prevent them from legally facing it which would lead to the military and police trying to stop the Legion instead of the true villains. You do your best to make the team a respected power in the world, not just a group of goofy super-powered people who save the day but are considered to be a threat half the time. Giving up what you love for that is called sacrifice my friend.” The Reverend pauses to polish his glasses on his shirt and then replaces them atop his nose.
“These are not the actions of a superhero. A superhero battles head to head with unspeakable menaces, never yielding, for the greater good of all. And while there is no question that you are a superhero, it is the actions of a man, a good man, I speak of now. You have always been regarded as one of the most level-headed members of the Lair Legion, and I implore you to put that common sense to use in contemplating your future.”
“My future?” Jay sighs. “I’ve thought for the longest time that my future was with Whitney. That someday, when the time was right, we’d retire from superheroing and raise a family. But now, I don’t know. I’ve looked deep within myself and I just don’t know.”
“That is all well and good Jay, but I think the answers you seek are without, not within.” Jay looks at the Reverend, the question evident on his face. “This is a matter that you should be asking God for help with. The power of prayer is not to be underestimated.”
“It’s been so long though. I mean, I used to take a religion class in elementary school, but I’m not even sure I remember how to pray. How will I know He’s listening?”
The Reverend moves from his perch atop his desk and sits on the creaky couch next to Jay. “He is always listening. It doesn’t matter when or how you pray, but your sincerity in doing so. Allow me to pray for you Jay?”
“A-alright. Um, do I need to get down on my knees or something?”
“Just bow your head and close your eyes. Heavenly Father, I bring to you Jay, and his current plight. I pray to you that you would grant him guidance and knowledge in his internal struggle. Let him know your love as he seeks the answers that elude him. Please open his heart to your love and to that of his friends, who doubtlessly will be elated to learn of his return. Give him peace, and place him on the path of forgiveness for Whitney, for until he does he shall not know contentment. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.” The Reverend looks up at Jay. “Not so hard, is it?”
“I guess not,” he agrees.
“Would you like to try now?”
“Yeah, alright.” The pair bows their heads. “Dear God, I need help. I’m confused and hurt by the actions of Whitney, but I still love her. Please help me to understand everything that has happened to me, and help me set things right. Amen.” Jay opens his eyes and turns to the Reverend. “How’s that?”
“Wonderful, simply wonderful. However, the inner battle within you is not over. Think things through, and remember, forgiveness is one of the greatest gifts we can give someone. Look to the Lord and together, you will find the answers you seek.”
The pair rise from the couch and face each other. The Reverend offers his hand and Jay gladly accepts it. “Thank you so much Rever…Mac. I was wondering though, once I settle things with Whitney, would it be alright if I came back to see you? I have some, questions, about God. I want to make some changes in my life, and I want Him to be a part of it.”
“Nothing would make he happier, Jay. I was hoping you might ask, seeing as how you came to me for advice rather than go to your friends in the Legion. Before today I doubt we’ve had more than a passing conversation or two,” he smiles.
“An oversight I look to remedy, Mac. Again, thank you.” And with that said, Jay leaves the Zero Street Mission to return to the mansion.
Reverend Mac Fleetwood momentarily glances upward. “No, thank You,” he whispers.
Whitney stands on the steps of the mansion, looking out over the waters of the harbour. Her long coat whips in the wind even as her hair dances to the same rhythm. She keeps playing scenarios out in her mind, some where Jay greets her in an embrace and a kiss and they can pick up their relationship where it left off, others where he refuses to talk to her and she never sees him again. Her thoughts are interrupted by the sight of a lone figure approaching the mansion. Jay.
She prepares herself for the worst while at the same time hoping for the best. She leaves the steps and moves to meet him. As she approaches he motions for her to follow him. “Let’s walk,” he says.
The two fall in step next to each other, walking the perimeter of the island, neither speaking. She has never felt so distant from him as she does now. Finally he slows and turns to her.
“I forgive you,” he says simply.
“You do?” she replies, hope rising in her voice.
“Yes, I do,” he says with the beginnings of a smile on his face.
“I’m glad. But before you say anything else, there’s something I need to get out first, okay?” He motions for her to continue. “I realize that what I did was wrong. I realize that it violates all of your ideals.” She pauses for a moment, then gathers herself. “But it also violated mine. It scares me the lengths I was willing to go to get you back. Does that mean I’m not strong enough to go on alone?”
Jay interrupts her. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known, Whit. Don’t ever think you’re not.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I’m not as strong as I’d like to be. I literally could not go on without you, and that’s a weakness. I’m not saying I don’t love you, but I’m worried that you act like my crutch, that I can’t stand on my own. And that scares me. So…” she trails off.
“So we’re breaking up.”
“Yeah, I guess we are. How do you feel about that?”
“I feel…comfortable, with that. I’ve been thinking a lot about us since I got back, and I think I need to grow as a person. I need to be more than just a superhero, y’know? I want to explore the man, and that means a lot of my limited time to myself. Am I making any sense?” He looks into her eyes, looking for understanding.
He finds it. “Yes, you are. But we’re still friends, right?”
“Without question. Friends.” He offers her his hand, and she looks at it momentarily, then brushes it aside and embraces him.
“Friends can hug,” she says to him as they both feel a huge weight lifted from their shoulders. They separate, then begin to head back to the mansion.
“Guess I’ll go see about getting my old room back here. You been staying in the guest room for awhile?” he asks as they walk.
“Couldn’t bear to be in that big old house by myself while you were gone,” she admits. “I think I’ll be heading back there tonight though, after the party.”
“Party? What party?” he asks.
“You’re alive, silly! If Dream and Dancer haven’t already gotten the place decorated I’d be shocked,” she says happily.
“So I guess I’ll come by tomorrow then to get my stuff?”
“I’ll help you pack.”
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