Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

- Previously -

Bringing the noodles to her mouth, Shayera stole a quick glance across the Watchtower cafeteria. On the far side of the room, Arrow, Canary, GL, and Vixen chatted at one of the tables. Usually she tried to avoid this scenario, but after two days of back to back fights with no food, she had been willing to risk it. That, and it was becoming more difficult than usual not to run into John and Mari together. They had been joined at the hip everyday since John announced he was…

Leaving.

For an unspecified amount of time, into deep space, to the Vega system. Shayera tried not to think about how close that was to her home system. The thought of John being there, after the war had been lost…

The dread passed through her quickly before she pushed it away, taking a sip of water and leaning back in her chair.

They had been dancing around each other - friendly, casual, but cautious - ever since their conversation about Warhawk. Glaring at the food on her plate as if it was her enemy, she poked around the mixed veggies and pasta with her fork. That conversation had been three months ago.

During the last months, her mind had been a whirlwind of thoughts, hopes, and emotions. She needed to talk to him, alone and openly, at least once before he left. Because she knew she would regret it if she didn’t, like she had nearly done once - when his heart had stopped. All she wanted to do was tell him-

“Shayera, I need to speak with you.”

She blinked up at the dark man with a bold T across his face. Nodding, she motioned for Mister Terrific to join her.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.” He gave her a knowing smile and slid into the seat. “You know there is a League holding facility off the east coast. It’s being managed by one of our biggest financial supporters, Mr. Wayne.”

“Uh-huh.” Shayera shoveled another portion of noodles into her mouth and waved her hand for him to get on with it.

“It seems it’s reaching its capacity of things the League has collected over the years and Mr. Wayne is requesting that we clean it out.” He ventured cautiously.

“Terrific, why are you telling me this?” She drawled.

“The Thanagarian ship.” He stated and Shayera immediately straightened, her lips tight. “The one you flew back with Vixen and Vigilante. We need to move it.”

Shayera crossed her arms and spoke flatly. “Okay then, move it. You don’t need my permission.”

“Actually, Mr. Wayne requested that you make the final decision. He also asked if you could personally give it one last inspection. Apparently, he doesn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

Narrowing her eyes, she spoke through clenched teeth, “Tell Mr. Wayne that it doesn’t need one and that I don’t care what happens to it. Like all of the other stuff that has been left here.”

“I expected you would say that.” He sighed. “Though you and I both know it would be better to keep him happy if-”

“I gave you my answer.”

“Right.” Terrific cleared his throat and stood. “If you change your mind,” -she gave him a look as if to say she most certainly would not- “it’s in Hanger 52, Southeast Wing.”

Her eyes followed him as he hastily made his retreat, passing John’s table as he exited the cafeteria. John wasn’t typically one for public displays of affection, especially in a work environment, but today for some reason Vixen was nearly in his lap, her head nestled in the crook of his neck, his hand caressing her waist absently as they talked with their friends.

Clenching her jaw, Shayera bent the fork in her fist. She quickly moved it to her lap beneath the table with a grunt. Clearly she wasn’t going to find that moment with John now, nor was she in the headspace to do so. As if she were ever going to be.

She looked down at the twisted utensil. Weak little thing. Made from quiet dull ore on a thin crusted planet. Such cheap, dead metal. Nothing like her mace… or that ship. A sudden ache arced through her.

Shayera groaned and roughly grabbed her bowl as she stood from the table. Time to go see that damn ship, then.

{ ^ }

Shayera ran her hand over the cold metal of the battered starship and the dormant displays of its control system lined in Nth. A standard Class-C squad cruiser. An average looking vessel, one of countless in the Empire’s Military. Functional and compact, perfect for quickly navigating around other larger star cruisers… or escaping through enemy blockades.

A year ago, when Stripe and Beetle had approached her about scrubbing the ship clean in case there were any undetected threats, she hadn’t told them that the effort wasn’t worth it. She had bidden them good luck and hadn’t looked back, already knowing they would find nothing. Paran Dul and her crew had been a small, vengeful lot in the throws of escape. Escape from a world now conquered. There would be no one from the Empire listening, no one that would have more than a passing thought about a primitive planet on the other side of the universe. Not while they were succumbing to the rule of the Gordanians.

There was a knot in her chest and she swallowed against the tightening in her throat.

Generations of war. Over. Just like that.

And for what? To themselves become destroyers of worlds? To be conquered because of the foolish, prideful decisions to conquer others?

To lose because of one wayward spy that had grown enough of a conscious to consider ethics.

Shayera slid into the pilot’s chair and leaned forward on her knees. Staring at the floor, she reigned in the raw emotions, as she so often did these days. It was harder in a setting so familiar. She had flown these very ships numerous times. It may have even been the first type of vessel she was given permission to pilot. If she hadn’t been so reckless at the time, maybe even drunk, she might have remembered that moment.

Those first years felt like a lifetime ago. She had been so young - barely more than a fledgling when she began her training and still in the throws of adolescence when she first saw battle. That fierce teen, clawing for attention and rank, would have never imagined all that effort would be thrown away for the love of a people she didn’t even know existed. Nor that her choices would lead to the end of the war and… exile.

Shayera shook her head. There were too many memories tied up here - and freshly imagined nightmares, too.

The thought of the Gordanians on Thanagarian soil. Ransacking the intricate halls of Pal-Ra, pillaging the treasures of the Rheon Gallt, exhausting the natural beauty of Allura, burning the towns and cities along the Rakkachi plateaus. It made her sick. She had seen enough to know what kind of destruction and horror they left behind. They were her enemies for a good reason.

Though not enough of a reason for her to justify wiping out other worlds, apparently.

Shayera didn’t regret saving Earth. Not for a second. But the images of what the Gordanians could be doing to her people… the killing, maiming, enslaving… she knew that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Rising and moving back to the loading hatch, Shayera shoved those thoughts and feelings deep down before they dared consume her. There was a reason she hadn’t stepped foot in this ship for over a year, and she would be more than happy to leave all of this untouched and unexamined for a thousand more.

“Are you sure about this?” Aquaman’s gruff voice greeted her as she exited the ship. He stood royally straight-backed with his arms crossed over his bare chest. He gave her a long look. “It is a fine vessel. It would be a shame to dispose of it when in the right hands of a skilled warrior-”

“I’m sure.” Shayera stated flatly.

She continued passed him, throwing her voice over her shoulder before leaving the room without another glance.

“Drown it. In the deepest trench you can find.”

Let it rot there at the bottom of the sea. Because she didn’t want to think about the councilman’s daughter, the teen cadet, the feared soldier, the spy-instructor, the commander’s mate, and the loyal lieutenant that she once was. Because she knew the day she let all of that surface, there would be no way to drown it again without going down with it. It would be sink or swim and it would take all of the nonexistent providence of fate to get her to dive in willingly.

Chapter Text

“It’s so nice to have you back, buddy!” Flash patted Green Lantern on the back as they walked through the familiar halls of the Watchtower, a half-eaten burger in his other hand.

“It’s good to see you too, Flash.” John chuckled as he watched his friend gobble down the rest of his food.

He couldn’t believe it had been six months. Six months in space on a mission with the Green Lantern Corps, in a galaxy far, far away. Only a week home and he had already gone through this little exchange with the Scarlet Speedster at least three times. It reminded him of how much he had missed his planet and these teammates – his friends – more than expected.

When he had been called to Oa and realized that it would be an indefinite amount of time before he could return, he had thought the distance wouldn’t bother him so much. After having spent so many years away before the League, when he had returned to Earth that first time, it had barely felt like home anymore. He had even once begged the Guardians to give him another long stint across the universe, to trade places with Rayner… after the Thanagarian Invasion.

His mind wandered to Shayera again. He hadn’t seen her yet. She was the only one of the Seven he hadn’t reconnected with. Even J’onn had made an appearance to say hello. Of course, it made sense that she would avoid him, after what had happened right before he left… after he had proposed to Mari. Despite that, her absence bothered him. Though he’d hardly admitted it to himself, out there in the dead of space, Shayera had been the one he missed most of all. Especially during all he had seen out there near the-

“Hello, Earth to GL?” Flash waved a hand in his face, pulling him back to their conversation.

“Sorry man, got lost in my thoughts there for a second.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. That had happened several times this past week as well – too many times.

“No prob. I’d space out too every time someone asked me about getting hitched.” Flash shrugged, a playful grin on his face.

“What?”

“I asked if you set a date yet?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He hoped his tone sounded more absentminded than uncomfortable.

It had been an interesting week with Vixen. She was unusually distant, which would have been abnormal anyway but especially so considering they had been separated for so long. He wasn’t sure what to do with that yet.

Shayera had been on his mind, often, it was true. He couldn’t deny that, but… He loved Mari, loved the stability and safety of being with her. There was something about her that made him feel like he should be with her. It was the logical choice, the one that made the most sense. That, and the ease of her loyalty and commitment, was what had compelled him to finally take the plunge and propose. Choose his own destiny.

He had spent every day of the last six months rethinking and overthinking that decision. Wondering why he had done it so last minute, literally within days of leaving for Oa. As if that expression of commitment would force some unbreakable bond across space, create some safety net that he would find himself falling back into on returning. The hope of coming back to someone rather than a world he would have to rebuild from nothing.

Even after all that time, he hadn’t concluded on how he truly felt about it. Then to come home to sense such instability in their relationship… he really had no idea where to start with any of that.

“I mean no. We haven’t.” It came out too hard, he realized, and tried to continue more nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders, “She’s got a lot on her modeling schedule for the next year and some of it’s still up in the air. We’re trying to figure out when would be the best time without interfering with that.”

Not a lie, per se. She had expressed concern over trying to plan a wedding during such a busy time in her life, but he thought he sensed more than a scheduling conflict. Mari had been offered some big opportunities over the last couple months and had taken on some designer responsibilities with incredible backing. It made him happy to see the way she lit up at the new flow of creativity she seemed to be swimming in these days.

She had also been focused on something else, Vixen-related. Something that seemed more personal to share. To the point that when she had first mentioned it, John hadn’t been sure how much he should even ask. It was something he didn’t understand yet, mostly because she had such a hard time explaining it. The Red is what she called it. He had decided not to press about it for the time being.

He was brought back to focus again as Flash gave a lighthearted “ok” and shrugged. John was glad he didn’t push for more.

They rounded another corner, not really thinking about where they were going. Wally did his best catching up while in motion, so they decided to roam the tower for as long as they could until one of them would be inevitably called to a mission. As they entered this stretch of hallway, John realized they were roaming into the living quarters area. He felt his gut launch into his throat as he recognized exactly which room they were passing now.

It was a trap. Of course, Flash would lead them right here. His suspicion was only solidified as the pranking speedster stopped in his tracks. John braced himself for whatever meeting was undoubtedly about to be forced upon him.

“You’re not going to find her in there.” Flash gestured to the door with his thumb and gave John a knowing smirk. “She moved out over a month ago.”

He blinked, wholly unprepared for that bit of news and already getting his hopes up that she was indeed about to exit those doors.

“Moved out? To where?”

“St. Roch, off the gulf, not too far from Midway.”

That at least partly explained why he hadn’t seen her casually around the Tower. She was living in a city. As far as he knew, Shayera hadn’t occupied a home on the planet since they founded the Justice League. She had always opted to live up in space rather than deal with her wings in civilian life. That sentiment had been reinforced after the Invasion, for good reason. Yet now she was choosing to live on the surface, and not too far from Midway?

John knew who lived in Midway. That stalker who called himself Hawkman. It had been, what? Almost nine months since that last strange encounter in the museum? He didn’t know why it still bothered him so damn much. Thinking back to that man’s obsession with Shayera made him uneasy and irritated. Even if Carter had said he would move on, John didn’t care. He didn’t like him being around her. Now they were living only a city apart from each other. Exactly how much had changed in that dynamic over the last few months? Part of him was too curious to ignore the nagging in his chest.

“Why?”

Flash opened his mouth to share and then stopped. John felt his stomach churn. “Why not ask her yourself?”

“If you don’t want to tell me, I’m sure she doesn’t.” GL said flatly as he crossed his arms.

“Oh, I don’t mind sharing,” Flash shrugged, “But I think you might want to hear about it from her. Since you haven’t even seen her yet.”

He gave him a wink, communicating what John had already suspected. They had talked. Wally and Shayera had talked about his return, about the fact they hadn’t seen each other. She had opted to go through Wally rather than connect with him herself. Like what he was doing now, he supposed.

As if responding to the unease on his face, Flash continued. “You could just,” He tapped his ear, indicating calling via comms.

“It’s fine. Really. If she doesn’t want to see me…”

“Dude, she’s probably busy! She’s had a lot on her plate the last few months.”

“With whatever she’s doing in St. Roch?”

“Yeah, with that.”

Flash leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and smiling with amusement. He waited. John raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not calling her right now, Flash.”

“C’mon! Why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t be appropriate.” John stated.

It wouldn’t. Not to him. A familiar guilt started to rise in his chest and he frowned slightly. Why did Wally always have to be so good at meddling?

Flash rolled his eyes playfully at John’s hardline answer, trying to ease him. When that didn’t seem to work, he let out a big, long sigh. “Geez, John. She’s our friend! It’s only a check in on the comm-“

As he said it, he tilted his head and pressed his finger to his comm-link. His brows furrowed as he concentrated, listening.

“Gotcha, T! I’ll be right over!” He looked over at John and with a big teasing smile said, “Saved by the bell! Gotta go!”

John could barely give him a goodbye pat on the shoulder before he zoomed off, leaving him standing alone in front of Shayera’s old room, lost again in his thoughts.

>O<

“There’s really nothing? C’mon man, there’s got to be something you can give me, I’m starting to get antsy up here.” John expressed to Mister Terrific.

Multiple screens surrounded them, depicting news of various emergencies and heroes responding around the world. The super-intelligent hero at the console was expertly organizing and delegating all the information pouring in through the Watchtower’s main hub.

“Sorry, John, it’s been a slow day. We’ve got everything covered.” He shrugged and typed a quick note. “Take the day off. Chill. You did just get back from months of outer space action.”

GL let out an exasperated sigh. There was too much on his mind these days to be “chill.” It wasn’t really his natural inclination anyway. His eyes drifted over the screens and the images or video footage zooming by on rotation.

Elongated Man was pulling people out of a crumbling building during a Hurricane in Indonesia. Red Tornado and Crimson Avenger were protecting a village in Russia from a villain with green laser arms. Stargirl, Stripe, and Steel were on the upper East Coast fighting a gang of metahumans.

There were voice only reports too. Green Arrow and Black Canary sending info about busting an Intergang trafficking ring in Europe. Wonder Woman calling in to confirm that the alien threat in Asia was resolved.

John absently took in the smaller screen by the keyboard with no visuals. Only quick one-line headlines or updates scrolled by:

“Metahuman runaway found alive in Dakota City”

Alert: Jewel Theft in Progress – Warpath

“Assassin attempt averted in Blüdhaven by the mysterious Nightwing”

Alert: Car hijacking - Central City

“Flash halts hijacking in Central City”

Alert: Bank Robbery on 5th and Neely - Seaside City

Alert: Minor alien disturbance - St. Roch

“Question publishes shocking data, 10th Harmony Band reacts”

John’s eyes suddenly locked onto one of the texts further down the column. St. Roch. Shayera’s new stomping grounds. At least he assumed she was taking care of the city and not merely living there. But he thought he’d seen somewhere already… his eyes again scanned the larger displays.

Yes, there she was. Now back in rotation, footage of Shayera battling a massive mecha in Switzerland flashed on one of the screens. His brow furrowed.

“What about that stuff?” He indicated with a nod of his head toward the text updates.

“Oh, that’s pretty minor stuff. Not League level threats at this stage. They’ll be taken care of by law enforcement or a local hero.” Mister Terrific responded casually as he continued typing, now focusing on Green Arrow’s information specifically.

He didn’t know why he let the words tumble out of his mouth, but John asked, “What about the one in St. Roch?”

Terrific glanced briefly at the line he was referencing. “It’s fine. Hawkgirl will get it.”

“You mean Shayera?” GL pointed to the screen on the right, in time to watch the machine backhand her to the ground.

It held her there until Atom Smasher came barreling from behind and knocked it away. With a shake of her head, she flew up quickly and rammed her mace into its chest. It barely made a dent. That fight wasn’t ending anytime soon.

“No.” Terrific responded, more intentionally now. “I mean Hawkgirl. The new one.”

John blinked. “Excuse me?”

The brilliant man that he was, Terrific knew where this was going and suddenly didn’t seem thrilled to be sharing. At John’s insistent expression, he sighed. “Winged teenager, swings a heavy-duty mace around, wears a metal hawk helmet, and calls herself Hawkgirl.”

John’s mouth dropped. “You’ve got to be joking?”

“No. And for a teen hero, she’s not too bad either.”

“And she’s in St. Roch?”

Terrific nodded.

John didn’t know what to think. A new Hawkgirl? Some random teenager? That lived in the same city as Shayera?

“Hey, I know that look,” Terrific started cautiously, “trust me, you don’t want to get involved.”

It was too late. John made up his mind and he was too stubborn to deter himself from that now.

“Send me there.”

“John, really-“

“I need something to do. I’m going to help.” Green Lantern began flying towards the teleport platform before Mister Terrific could object.

Terrific let out a long sigh in defeat. He reached for the button on the console that would send the Lantern on his way. John was now too far to hear him speak as he pressed firmly on the button.

“Shayera’s going to kill me.”

Chapter Text

The water along the shore of St. Roch’s bay area was glistening in the midday sun. Mister Terrific sent Green Lantern to the top of a street overlooking the water, not far from where the disturbance had been reported.

Boats of all kinds, rickety to luxurious, dotted the wooden and steel docks. Verandas of market sellers, stalls filled with art and diversely ethnic goods, lined the old cobblestone street. The air was humid despite the fall season and John rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, wiping away the beads of sweat already forming there. He walked through the busy area, taking in the vibrant sights and sounds of the city and keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the norm.

He spotted a jazz musician playing at the corner, an old hat filled with coins at his feet. Behind him was a narrow alleyway where John could make out the many small balconies built into the old French and Spanish styled apartments. People of all types lounged on those balconies, some trying to cool off from the weather, others hanging out laundry to dry in the heat.

GL stepped up to the dark older gentleman playing the saxophone and dropped some change into his hat. The man immediately stopped.

“Mais, I’ll be! If my eyes ain’t lying, we got a Green Lantern over on up in here!” His thick bayou accent laced every word. He gave John a big gappy grin and extended his hand warmly. “What can I do for ya son?”

“Hey, how you doing?” John clasped his hand. “There was a distress call about a disturbance in the area. I’m looking for anything out of the ordinar-“

CRASH!

Splintered wood and wares scattered everywhere as something crashed through the market stalls behind him. He couldn’t get a glimpse of the creature as it barreled through the vendors, but he could see what was just behind it. Coming in fast and almost as equally destructive, a winged teenager, with a helmet that glinted in the sun and a slim mace at her side, tumbled through the debris.

Hawkgirl.

John watched as she clumsily skidded onto the stones amid the chaos. He was so distracted by the sight of her that he didn’t even register what she was looking at as she shouted out.

“Come here you little- ugh!” She snarled and pushed herself off the ground into a speedy flight forward. She flew past him with a gust of wind, oblivious to his presence. He turned, following her mad dash to finally see what she was hunting.

A small, four-legged creature with bulging eyes darted in and around the marketplace, leaving a trail of destruction in its path. It hopped here and there, an odd translucent shimmer rippling around its gray mangy fur.

Green Lantern bolted into the air to get a better vantage point. He watched as the thing popped into a little alleyway, the frustrated Hawkgirl right on its tail. It dived behind a dumpster as she came around the corner.

Tucking in her wings slightly so as not to brush them against the walls, Hawkgirl halted in what appeared to her to be an empty alley. She hovered a foot off the ground at the ready but stayed quiet. Pulling out her mace, she slowly surveyed the area.

John stayed a good distance away as he watched. That movement with the mace, how she tapped it in her hands impatiently, reminded him so much of Shayera that he began to feel uneasy.

She remained quiet and unmoving for such a long pause that John almost considered going down already to interact with her. He couldn’t see the creature anymore, even from his higher vantage point.

As he considered whether or not to move the dumpster with a construct from his ring, the creature suddenly leapt out and tried to escape past the winged girl. With it so close to her, and not sure of what danger that posed, Green Lantern immediately shot out a beam from his ring. He slammed the thing into the alley wall, knocking it unconscious on impact.

Hawkgirl moved back in surprise, and then watched him closely as he floated down to land in between her and the creature. She looked at him, her eyes wide through the slits in her helmet.

“You’re…” She started, her words trailing off in shock at his appearance - or starstruck, he couldn’t tell.

“Green Lantern, John Stewart.” He introduced matter-of-factly.

“Uh, yeah…” She gave him a once over, studying his glowing eyes especially, and landed tentatively as she returned her mace to her side. “I know who you are.”

“And I’m assuming you’re…”

John finally took a moment to take her in. Her costume was similar enough to Shayera’s old one, at least in the main aspects. A yellow tank top with stripes of dark green on the sides. Dark green leggings, a gold metal belt with a thick red buckle, and red boots to match.

A band of red accented her neckline like a striking ruby necklace and durable red leather bands wrapped around her hands. The helmet was very close to the original, although mostly gold with only black around the eyes and stripes along the top. The mace, although recognizably the same shape, was wholly different from Shayera’s in color. A completely bright gold handle with a striking black round club, covered with intimidating gold spikes.

Her white wings – he wasn’t sure what to make of them. They seemed real enough, but perhaps, like Hawkman’s, they were not. A metahuman? It wouldn’t be unusual, considering how frequent they were these days.

Besides all the similarities to the original Hawkgirl, that was not what struck John the most. It was the differences. Tan skin, freckles across her cheeks, hair that was too short to be exposed from beneath the mask, and a lean short figure. She looked so… young. Mid-teens if he had to guess. Even with the helmet on, with its strong Thanagarian structure, she seemed so small in his eyes. Incomparable in experience and strength to Shayera. It was with that observation that he finished his question incredulously.

“Hawkgirl?”

She smiled proudly, crossing her arms in a more confident stance. “Yep. That’s what they call me. The new, and improved, Hawkgirl.”

“Right.” He drawled. More like a young over-confident fangirl. He did not like this at all.

“So,” She looked between him and the creature and tilted her head curiously. The same way he had seen Shayera do countless times. “Why are you here exactly?”

Why was he here? He wanted to believe that it was because there was nothing else better to do, and although this was a small threat, it was still his duty to handle it… but now he wasn’t sure if that was really it at all. An uncomfortable tension began to rise in him.

“Uh, I was responding to a Justice League alert.”

“For that?” Pointing at the small fluffy thing, her mouth gaped a little.

Now that he got a good look at it, he realized what she meant. Barely bigger than a basketball, it looked more like some mutant rodent, with its long knobby tail and bulging dimmed eyes, than anything life-threatening. It took one hit to take it down. Not even a hard hit by the Lantern’s usual standards.

He crossed his arms defensively. “Yes.”

“It looks like I could have handled that myself.” She chuckled. As if he didn’t just stop that thing from – well, from whatever it was going to do.

“It looks like you should be in school.”

Hawkgirl’s eyes immediately narrowed.

“I do go to school, and I take care of stuff like this.” She pushed back with attitude before more calmly adding, “Besides it’s Saturday.”

“Then go enjoy your Saturday. I’ve got this from here.”

He turned towards the ball of fur lying beside them. Back to business as usual. Time to take this thing and leave the fangirl to go home and continue fan-girling.

“You- what?” Hawkgirl shifted a foot back.

She hesitated, seemingly unsure on how she was to respond to that statement. Then she stiffened her stance and, with a hand on her hip, pointed to GL in irritation.

“Now listen here, Big Leaguer. I’ve been tracking this thing all week so I can follow it to its friends, and you came out of nowhere and knocked it out!”

John was taken aback by her fiery retort. Annoyed, he replied, “Then I helped you out.”

“No, because as soon as it wakes up it’s going to teleport out of here!” She snapped at him.

“Tele-“

“Yeah, Green Lantern. It’s a Gagt, a magical alien rat-thing that likes to disappear into thin air.” Sass and annoyance were conveyed in every word.

The Lantern blinked. He looked down at the creature and scanned it with his ring.

A cosmic Fourth World simplistic cavernous animal with trans-dimensional capabilities particular to space displacement.

“Ah.”

It was indeed, a Gagt.

Embarrassed, more than he should have been considering he was talking to a short teen in a costume, he pushed back, “And how do you know that? You barely look old enough to drive, much less catalogue alien species.”

“I got the info from…” She hesitated. “A friend.”

The hesitation caught his attention. There was another person who he knew now lived in this city that could have given her that information. He suspected they had met, with so much to tie them together, but… friends? He couldn’t imagine that. Yet isn’t that why he came? His curiosity over this new Hawkgirl’s connection to Shayera? Wanting to know what Shayera was doing here…

His brow furrowed with frustration. It had been a mistake to come here. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go and he was quickly losing any form of patience towards the girl.

“A friend, huh? And does this friend also dress up like a Justice Leaguer and look for aliens?”

“Actually yeah. He does.”

He. Not Shayera then. The fact that he even let himself begin to acknowledge why he might have come here…

“Okay.” He responded flatly.

“Can you just let me do my thing please?”

“Running around chasing aliens like you’re Hawkgirl? You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

The immediate tightening of her jaw told John enough of how she felt about that comment. Crossing her arms, as if she was reeling in some teenage angst on the brink of wanting to escape, she responded curtly.

“Yes, exactly that. And I don’t care if I get hurt.”

“Go home kid.”

Green Lantern turned away and leaned over the Gagt, not even taking a glance at her expression. As far as he was concerned, they were done here. He didn’t care if he had somehow overstepped. He needed to move on.

“Go home!? I need to figure out this mess first!”

The hint of desperation in her voice caught him off guard. He looked back and was surprised to see a disappointed frown. Perhaps it wasn’t anger he was sensing in her curt comments, but hurt. In their short exchange, that starstruck shock was spiraling into disappointment. Disappointment at him. The “Big Leaguer” that shucked her off like an annoying insect. His shoulders sunk a little bit.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light. They both shielded their eyes and when they looked again – the Gagt had completely disappeared. Hawkgirl groaned and plopped down against the wall dejectedly.

If it was true that she had spent all week after this thing… if it had taken her that long and he really had come in and ruined all that hard work… As if to confirm, she let out a heavy sigh and put her helmeted head in her hand.

Some hero he was indeed.

“Maybe I can help you find another one?” John looked at her more compassionately. She didn’t seem to care as she looked back up at him, fire in her hawk-eyed stare.

“Why would I want your help? Since you’ve been such a big help already, budding in where you’re not needed!”

She leaned her head back against the wall with another sigh, a tiredness overtaking her. More quietly, she groaned in defeat, “I’ll have to wait until this time tomorrow to spot one here again, anyway.”

“Okay, I might have jumped the gun there. I’ll come back tomorrow and-“

Glaring, she dismissed him, “Don’t you have better things to do? Like saving the world from supervillains or something?”

He sighed. “Right. I’ll go then.”

Hawkgirl gave him a curt nod and turned away. John only caught her last quiet comment as he was flying away.

“By the way, this is how I like to enjoy my Saturday.”

Chapter Text

Shayera Hol surveyed the spread of papers in front of her as she sat at the small kitchen table. The cramped two room apartment was quiet, only a small clank and shuffle from the kitchen disturbed her concentration. An older gentleman, who’s place she was only invading for the afternoon, rounded the corner to come join her at the table.

Although nearing his mid-seventies, the man looked well built for his age with strong shoulders, a square jaw, and short-shaved military styled gray hair. He wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans, both crisp clean and ironed. It was the cane supporting a limp in his left leg, the tired wrinkled face, the age spots along his arms, and the tremble in his hand as he placed a glass of water on the table that gave his fragility away. This was Cyril Saunders – war hero, treasure hunter, adventurer, and now, guardian and consult to Hawks.

Which currently meant dealing with Shayera’s completely inept ability to handle the basics of renting an apartment in the city, or any normal paperwork that comes with being a working human adult.

“This is stupid. My head hurts more from staring at this pile of shit than getting my head bashed by a 20-foot death machine.” She rubbed her temple as she leaned over the mess of mail.

“Don’t tell me you never had to deal with bills and registration on Thanagar.” Cyril’s voice carried its usual rough rasp, his throat long-since damaged. With an amused smile, he sat slowly in the chair across from her, his kind dark eyes meeting her fierce green ones.

Pfft. “High ranking officers can’t be bothered over that stuff. We had people for that.”

“You can do that here too. If you want to pay for it.” He smirked and Shayera groaned.

Reaching in his pocket, Cyril began to pull out a small tin of cigarettes. Her sharp eyes followed his movements as he lit it and brought it up to his mouth. He was given one big huff, the smoke exhaling from his nose, before she calmly reached across the table and took it from his hand. There was no resistance; it was laying limp between his fingers, as if welcoming her to take it. She crushed it, still lit, completely in her fist. The flattened paper and ashes were then deposited on a small tray at the corner of the table.

Shayera picked up one of the papers and leaned back in her chair, no words needed. From over the top of the paper, she could see him give her a small smile and return the tin to his pocket. He then reached out his hand to take the paper from her and have a look.

“You’re not at war, Shayera. This is your life now.” Cyril looked at her very pointedly. “Get over it.”

“I know.” She returned to looking over the mail and sighed. “Okay, run through it with me again.”

“Okay.” He smiled encouragingly. “This one is utilities. You should have already-“

Suddenly, the front door flung open and a very agitated young Hawkgirl came stomping in. Any amount of calm they had been trying to maintain was completely thrown out the window as she slammed the door behind her. After a quick hello to Cyril, she immediately turned her attention to Shayera, who despite herself tensed.

“Good. You’re here.” Hawkgirl stated flatly.

“Never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth.” Shayera quipped tensely, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed.

Hawkgirl yanked off her helmet, chucking it unceremoniously onto the couch. Now it was merely the teenage girl, with her messy short black hair and striking hazel eyes, looking intently at Shayera. Those eyes narrowed at her.

“Did I do something to make you mad?”

“You do things all the time that make me mad.” Shayera poked with a smirk. The girl only deepened that glare.

Cyril let out a quiet sigh. It was like walking through a minefield with these two. He reached for the glass of water he had brought for Shayera and moved it toward him. It was good that he knew a thing or two about navigating mines.

“You know what I mean. Recently. Like in the past week or something?” She waved her hand frustratedly.

“No,” Curious now where this was going, Shayera tilted her head and said slowly, “nothing comes to mind specifically.”

“Then did I do something wrong?” The frustration was quickly deteriorating into worry as the girl began to pace, running a hand through her hair. “Did I cross a line? Do something that’s not allowed? Something to upset the Justice League?”

“Woah, woah, hold up.” The red head put a hand up, her brow furrowed in concern. “What did you do to think you’re crossing a line with the League?”

Whirling back around to face Shayera, the girl threw her hands up, “Nothing! I’ve done nothing! That’s the whole point!”

In the tense pause that followed that outburst, only the sound of Cyril slowly stacking the scattered papers could be heard. Shayera gave him a desperate glance – a plea for help. All he could offer was a small, almost imperceptible, shrug. He had no idea. This was going to have to be her battlefield to cross.

“I don’t think I understand what’s going on here.” Shayera stated. Although she remained as calm as possible, her stiff back, wings slightly extended, and hard grip on the table communicated something else entirely.

“Whatever, Shayera.” That grip on the table tightened at the attitude in those words.

As usual, it was as if she expected the winged warrior to read her mind, understand every emotional response pouring out of her. Expected Shayera, of all people, to do that. With another small sigh, Cyril grabbed his cane and began to make his retreat.

The scruffy-haired teen continued, this time with a softer rawer emotion than the irritation she had been spewing, “I know the League keeps tabs on me. I know that they’re watching me, that they think I’m going to end up… like you.”

Shayera’s eyebrows shot up and she looked at Cyril again, a mix of emotion in her eyes. This time he gave her a tilt of his head, his expression firm, before turning away from them both towards the safety of his bedroom. It was a warning: Tread carefully on this one.

She clenched her teeth, refraining from whatever was attempting to spill out. Letting out a long breath, she forcibly relaxed her body and responded, reassuringly and candid.

“Look at me.” The two winged women made eye contact. “The League is not keeping tabs on you. Batman does, but that’s no surprise. Beyond that, no one is allowed to go around watching your every move, looking for mistakes, writing you up for things – or whatever you feel like they’re doing. Okay?”

“…Okay.” For a moment, the worry slowly eased on that freckled face.

The young unmasked Hawkgirl stood behind the empty chair across from Shayera, gripping the back, unsure how to continue. Cyril paused in the doorframe of his bedroom and glanced behind him. He watched the Thanagarian soldier, her eyes no longer looking to him for direction, focused solely on her namesake in front of her. He recognized the look. The strategizing. Weighing the potential risks ahead. He smiled when she finally spoke.

Continuing in her firm, but calm, tone, Shayera ventured further, “Are you finally going to tell me what happened, or do you want me to pretend I know already?”

The girl sighed and sunk into the chair across from Shayera. It had clearly been a long week. For them both, really. Cyril gripped the doorknob as he slowly pulled the door shut behind him. He was happy to let them rough this terrain themselves, now that he didn’t anticipate any of his furniture being destroyed. Their continued conversation wafted quietly to his ears as he too sighed and sunk onto his bed for a much-needed rest.

Back at the table, Hawkgirl responded insecurely, “They sent someone to help me today.”

Shayera raised an eyebrow, a little amused. “Over that rat you’ve been obsessed with?”

“I know, right! Why would they do that?”

“Probably some bored overly enthusiastic hero stuck on the roster for the day. Who was it?”

“Green Lantern.”

Shayera’s jaw slackened. Before she could stop herself, she groaned and put her head in her hand, mumbling to herself. “Oh stars, John. Seriously?”

The specifics of Shayera’s personal discomfort lost on her, the girl continued emphatically.

“You see why I freaked out now? I was minding my own business, chasing that little rat, and then he just showed up. Not some rent-a-suit – one of the freaking founders! You said you would warn me if one of your friends was going to stop by, but all of a sudden there he was, your Green Lantern.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Call him what?”

“Nothing.” Shayera said a little too quickly, and with an exasperated sigh leaned on her hand, elbow on the table. “You can relax. This isn’t about you.”

“Then what is it about?” She pushed, unconvinced.

Shayera paused, and then more aggressively responded, “I don’t know. I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing, but it’s not about you.”

Hmph. Arms crossed, the teen leaned back in her chair, conceding, albeit reluctantly, to the end of that line of questioning.

“What did he say to you?”

“That it was a League thing. And then he messed up my whole plan and the Gagt got away. It took me a week to get to that point, Shayera. A week!”

“If that took you a whole week, we’ve really got to work on your tracking skills.” Shayera smirked.

“You know I have limited time with school.”

“And you know, I don’t have time for excuses.”

Those teenage hazel eyes rolled dramatically in response.

“Anyway, now he wants to come back and help.”

“Oh, great.” Shayera mumbled. “He said that?”

“He offered… I don’t know if he will though.” Shifting in her seat uncomfortably, the girl thought back over her exchange with the Green Lantern. She winced. “I was kind of rude.”

“You? Never.” Shayera jabbed sarcastically, a playful smile on her face. It seemed to relax the teen a little bit and her lips curved into a small smile of her own.

In fact, the tension between them had eased considerably since the start of their conversation. They paused in the momentary calm, each of the hawk-girls lost to their own thoughts. Shayera glared at an invisible spec on the table, arms folded around her. The girl stared absently at the helmet laying upside-down on the couch. Finally, they both let out a long breath, almost simultaneously.

“What do I do now?” That young freckled face turned back to Shayera again.

“Hope he doesn’t come back.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“Can’t you tell him-“

“No. I don’t want to get involved.”

“What? Why?”

“I just don’t.” She snapped and the girl’s sharp hazel eyes narrowed. Sensing them both unraveling again, Shayera continued more frankly. “He’s stubborn. If he wants to bud in, no one’s going to change his mind. And besides, you don’t need us both looking over your shoulder – you won’t want us both to be there – so if he does try to help, go with it. Take it as an opportunity. Like with Diana.”

“Wonder Woman was nice to me. He looked at me like I shouldn’t even exist. I thought you said all the OGs know about me?”

“Yes, well… he’s only been back a week. He’s still catching up.” At Shayera’s almost sad tone, the attentive winged girl tilted her head curiously. She opened her mouth, but the Thanagarian warrior cut in before she could ask.

“Listen, John has a lot of experience. He gets asked to train the rookie Leaguers all the time. When – if – he comes back, give him a chance.”

Hawkgirl scanned her face skeptically, but Shayera confidently held her gaze. The woman caught the subtle glance the girl gave to her wings, and she tucked them in tightly. There would be no more emotional observations and no more questions. The teen only shrugged. Surrender and retreat was today’s route then, for them both.

Hawkgirl gave her a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll see how it goes.”

She then added more playfully, eliciting a small chuckle from Shayera, “Anything’s better than you, I guess.”

Chapter Text

“And that was it. Straight to jail from there.” Flash finished up his story, his arms waving dramatically as Green Lantern shook his head.

“You’d think being the fastest man alive, you could learn how to be more concise.” He teased.

The light from the watchtower monitor glowed behind them and John leaned on the console. It was only with his closest friends that he was ever not at a straight-backed military stance at work. “Cool John” Wally called it. His smile widened. Flash plopped in a chair nearby and leaned back, his arms behind his head. Smug and carefree as ever.

“What can I say? I love telling a good story.”

“I wouldn’t call that goo-“

They both turned their heads as the door to the monitor room swished open unexpectedly.

“Flash, sorry I’m late, I was-“ Shayera entered quickly and stopped mid-step in surprise.

John and Shayera stared at each other wide-eyed. Six months. It had been six months since they had seen each other. Since they had been in the same room together. That last interaction, which felt like a hundreds years ago and only seconds at the same time, it was the day he had left, the day after Mari had announced their engagement, and the tense words that had been exchanged…

They both straightened and stood in silence.

It was like time had stopped. Her intense green eyes met his. Her red hair fell past her shoulders, bangs brushing her eyebrows that were now lifted in surprise. Was it longer than he remembered? No, she hadn’t changed. Nothing about her looked different. She still wore that yellow track suit, midriff exposed, mace hanging at her side. Her wings fluttered, and he let his eyes roam to them for a fraction of a second. Strong and beautiful, feathers ruffled by this sudden surprise.

“Oops, sorry Shay, got the time mixed up. Looks like there was no rush at all!” Flash cut the tension, pure childish joy in his tone.

Shayera gave him an obvious glare and John crossed his arms as he looked down unapprovingly at his friend. Flash merely chuckled, not missing a beat as he pointed to the monitor behind them.

“And speaking of time, it’s about time for me to go watch soaps with Granny Flash. Wouldn’t want to keep the old lady waiting! Gotta’ go!”

With a whoosh that sent the chair spinning, he was gone in the time it took Shayera to open her mouth to rebuke him. She sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. But despite how unprepared they both seemed, as usual Wally’s antics had softened some of their unease.

“Same old Flash.” John shook his head, hoping to catch her attention again.

She met his gaze and smirked, “Literally nothing has changed.”

They were quiet again for a moment. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. For some reason, this felt more difficult than the first time they had reunited, only a few months after she resigned from the League... and said she loved him. Then, when she had come to their aid against Grundy, he had been proud to reassure her of his trust, despite the betrayal. Now, somehow, the roles felt reversed.

He had played the scenario repeatedly in his head until it had become a point of frustration, and he still found himself at a loss. He opted to return to “Cool John,” leaning against the monitor, if only to help settle his own nerves. He watched her eyes look him over, taking in his relaxed posture. She then slowly took the chair Wally had left empty and settled into her own comfortable position.

“It’s good to see you, Shayera.”

“It’s good to see you too, John.”

He wanted to hear everything about her last months, but he wasn’t confident on how much she wanted to share. Wally had reminded him that they were friends, but he had made choices and said things… and guilt still clung in his chest. So, he took the only direction of conversation he could think of.

“You moved out of the Watchtower.” It came out more as a statement than a question.

“What led you to that conclusion? Come looking for me, Lantern?” She teased, mischief in her smiling eyes.

It was so familiar, that bickering flirty tone, that it warmed his heart. Even in the couple months before he left, she hadn’t once spoken to him like this. He had missed it; missed her. The last of his unease ebbed away and he gave her his own smirking smile, acknowledging that old playfulness.

“Heh. Flash told me.”

“Course he did.”

“You’re living in a city now?”

She nodded, turning to look at the monitor a little distantly. “J’onn made me.”

“Made you?” He asked incredulously. There was nothing in the universe that could make Shayera Hol do anything.

She caught the tone, and looking back at him, smiled. “Okay, convinced.”

“Still don’t believe it.”

“He called me out for being a workaholic and then told me I can’t rely on the ‘Just Us’ mentality for the rest of my life.” She absently scratched at the armrest of the chair. “And it seems to be working for him so…”

“And how’s it going for you?”

“It’s different.” She said matter-of-factly. “I don’t like having to assess all the time what’s considered civil and appropriate for daily human interaction, but it’s better than...”

There was that distant look again as she trailed off, before adding, as a way of moving them along from the topic, “It was starting to feel too quiet up here.”

John nodded. He knew Shayera well-enough to know she typically enjoyed that quiet solitude, but he got the hint. He saw the glimpse of some deep emotion that she didn’t seem ready to reveal. They fell into silence again. Shayera didn’t look uncomfortable, but he was nervous she wasn’t going to pick up the conversation, nonetheless.

It seemed like she wanted to back away from sharing about her new life in the city, but what was she doing there? What of its proximity to Midway and Hawkman? What about this new Hawkgirl? Surely there was a connection. Surely there was more to the story… and why did Hawkgirl make him so uncomfortable? With his interactions with Hawkgirl fresh on his mind, he regrettably let his next statement tumble out.

“I, uh, met that girl who goes by Hawkgirl.”

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“The one in St. Roch.”

“Is there another one somewhere else I should know about?” She teased, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“So you know about her?”

“Sure, who doesn’t?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s been going around in that get up for months.”

“Months? And you’re okay with that? She’s-“

Shayera gave him a very pointed look and said sharply, “We haven’t seen each other in so long and you want to talk about some kid that everyone thinks is fangirling me?”

Well, that was it then. End of discussion. John mentally kicked himself for letting his curiosity get the better of him and steering the conversation to something that sounded more like work and assuaging his own anxieties than catching up with a friend.

“Okay. I guess we’ll move on then.”

Hmph. Shayera huffed and relaxed again in her chair as they entered another pause. Thankfully, she broke the silence this time.

Sincerely, she asked, “How was your time with the Corps?”

John shrugged, trying to ignore the sudden pain in his chest. “Longer than expected. And more difficult. We were out farther than I’ve gone before, a lot of new territory, and some serious bad guys to deal with. For a moment there, I wasn’t sure if I’d even…”

Her eyes widened. He realized his hands were gripping the console tightly. He didn’t mean to let that slip, didn’t realize how much it was still affecting him. Heart pounding in his ears, images of yellow lights, war-torn planets, and gruesome looking creatures suddenly flashed briefly across his mind. Despite that, he quickly rallied, relaxing his tense expression, and met Shayera’s gaze confidently, reassuringly.

Her brow furrowed with concern, but nodding with understanding, she said softly, “…I’m glad you made it back in one piece.”

His heart fluttered. He needed to move on, needed to keep this light. “You can thank Kilowog for that. Had my back the whole time.”

Shayera thankfully moved on from the heaviness of whatever fearful unknowns he had faced and smiled. “How is the big Pooser?”

John loved that she knew his world, had met so many of his comrades in Green. Especially the big lovable giant, Kilowog. He chuckled, all earlier fear beginning to subside.

“Pretty good. He found himself a lady while we were out there. Big beefy female with tusks coming straight out of her front teeth.”

Shayera let out a soft genuine laugh, covering her mouth as she did so.

That laugh - was it lighter, more free, than he remembered? He felt like he hadn’t heard it in years. Maybe he hadn’t; they had avoided each other so often before he left. But even in their hangouts with Wally, when the speedster knew exactly how to get her going, her joy had seemed distant… Something had changed, and all he wanted now was to stay in this moment forever.

“Good for him!” She said with a grin.

“Kat was there too.” He said with a teasing smirk.

“Oh well, with a woman like that sauntering around with you for six months, I’m really surprised you made it back at all, Lantern.” She responded playfully, a wicked smile on her face.

“She asked about you.”

Shayera’s eyes lit up like he was giving her the biggest prize in the world.

“And us.” He added, that look in her eyes shining only brighter. “Apparently, she had a bet going since the moment she met you”

“Smart woman.”

“It’s not like it wasn’t obvious at that point.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You couldn’t concentrate enough to use your ring around her.”

“That’s not how I remember it. You were the one that seemed really bothered by her.”

Shayera chuckled, agreeing with him. Feeling a little protective over John, she had indeed made some more biting comments around Katma-Tui, and there wasn’t a hint of shame or embarrassment in that acknowledgement. He was drawn to that confidence and the way mischief and joy seemed to dance in her eyes at this flirty exchange. He didn’t notice that he was leaning forward. Although rooted by his hands to the console, he was much closer in proximity to Shayera’s broad smile than before.

Something shifted in her expression. It was subtle and quick, but John caught it. The sudden pain. His stomach churned. She recovered so quickly, it passed in a blink of an eye. She remained relaxed in that chair as she said lighthearted and sarcastically,

“And I’m sure Vixen was thrilled to hear that you spent so much time in the dead of space with an ex.”

Vixen. Mari. His fiancée. Shayera knew exactly what she was doing with that statement. The way he quickly regained his posture, “Cool John” now gone, was indicative enough of how he felt. Shayera looked away. She kept her expression neutral and absently focused on something on the monitor as they endured a sudden tense pause in their conversation.

“I should go…” John finally said. She looked back at him, a bit of surprise and ache in her expression. Maybe he was ending this too abruptly. “I came up here to meet her before we head home.”

Shayera nodded her understanding, even if her eyes said something different.

He had come to look for Vixen in the Watchtower. She had said she would be doing some cooldowns after her mission, had needed a moment to clear her head. He had obliged, telling her they could go home together whenever she was ready, that he would come looking for her in a couple hours. And yet, here he was with Shayera, catching up.

“I was just with her in the gym, but – wait.” He had begun to walk briskly to the door at her direction and halted. “She’s not there.”

Rising from her chair, Shayera added, confused, “She left over an hour ago, to go home.”

He blinked.

She had left? Without even a check in on the comms? She had never done that before. Of course it had been months, so maybe he wasn’t remembering correctly, or maybe she had forgotten he was waiting, but… it wasn’t like her. All thoughts of his conversation with Shayera left his mind, replaced with a barrage of more concerning ones.

“What’s wrong?” Shayera interrupted his thoughts, her voice soft with concern.

“Nothing, I… must have lost track of time. Still adjusting to being back, I guess. See you later, Shayera.”

He walked out the door before she could question him. Because in all the time they had known each other, he rarely ever lost track of time.