Henry Shawn Danvers

 Elana, an alien resident at the DEO and formerly its prisoner explains why she doesn't hate the director that interrogated her for 6 years.

Henry Shawn Danvers
“I figured we'd have to have this conversation eventually.” I said to Henshaw when he was at the threshold of my compartments.
“I take it you know why I'm here?” He replied in a voice as full of restraint as of regret.
“To get to the truth of something that hasn't left your sight since...well for a long time. Not 'clearing the air' as much as a 'just so we're clear' conversation. I'd actually like it if Mon-el were to stay. For someone besides us to know why the assumption makes sense and why it isn't reality, might help us both. But he's not required to. Mon-el, if you want to go, you should go.”
“I'm staying. If for no other reason than to learn where you stand on anything, I'm staying.”
“Why don't you hate me?” Henshaw stated point-blank.
“There are two and a half reasons why I should. One is that I made the decision a long time ago that I'd rather feel sorrow than anger and disappointment than regret. And this is back on Atridia. Every time I made a fist ready to punch something I would transform that anger into kind of a sad, quiet feeling. It got to the point people thought I was incapable of experiencing or even understanding the very normal emotions of anger or hatred. In an entire species of empaths, the inability to feel emotions made me seem 'damaged'. Really I just didn't see the point of holding a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone. I carried that conscious choice here. It's not an oath, it's a way of life and it is NOT easy. I've spent my life being not just a person fo peace btu of restraint, self awareness and impeccable composure and forbearance. I don't see that changing. Somewhat ironic because 'change' is the other part of this.”
“What do you mean?” Mon El asked me simply.
“My people have a religious teaching that when put to its essence says that a righteous man who turns to rebellion and sin should not count on his former righteous deeds to save him from judgment. But likewise a sinner who turns from his rebellious ways and does what is right should have no fear; for by no means would his former sinful deeds be counted against him.” I turned and looked at Henshaw. “Unlike most people here, I know what you used to be like. But I also know who you are now, today. And that is who I'm dealing with so that is who matters. It sounds kind of new age and twisted but I don't sense anything in you that even resembles what I sensed from you before. And in case you don't remember, I didn't hate you back then either. Strangely enough that's actually the 'half' reason.”
“Okay...I'm probably going to regret this but what's the full reason?”
"When you told me what happened in Peru, I could sense you weren't lying, but I could also sense you were absolutely right. It wasn't just the truth as you knew it, it was reality...Hank if Jeremiah thinks you're worth DYING for I'm pretty sure you're worth forgiving!”
(the rest of this is deliberately out of order)

“Why are you so intent on finding someone who for all you know will kill you for seeking him out?” Mon-El of Daxam asked me bluntly. I had to give him credit fort waiting as long as he did.
“Things have not been adding up for so long; maybe now they finally will.” He looked at me as if to say 'you're being too cryptic for your own good. “I've always thought Jeremiah broke me out of the DEO and 4 years later he came looking for me, to tell em of Jeremiah's death. If there were four years between Jeremiah breaking me out and Henshaw finding me again...why don't I have four years of memories during that time?”
“That is...a very good question.” Mon'el said reluctantly.
“I take it you see why we both, he and I REALLY want answers.”

“Why did I say that?” I asked no one in particular as I paced the floor of my compartments. “What the hell was I talking about and why was I SO sure of it?”
Hank Henshaw walked into my compartments with Mon'el close behind. “Okay can we back up and expound on this a little bit?”
“White Martians are shape-shifters and telepathic. Both kinds of Martians are, that's how they evolved.” I slowed myself down and looked the director in the eyes. “Martians are a single species, two races one species and they stick out like a sore thumb for empaths; unmistakable.”
“Is that what you meant by 'Phobos and Deimos'?” Mon'el asked me.
“They were two brothers, who's rivalry was responsible for the split in their race. I remember the time I met a white Martian. It is not something I would easily forget. He puppet-on-a-stringed me to beat up an herbivoric kid. I don't mean a vegetarian human I mean an animal with four legs, no canines with smooth horns and white fur. And for an empath that's a lot worse than it sounds. I felt every blow I gave that creature. He snapped me out of it just as I snapped its neck. I told that thing in their that I've met examples of both races. I've met a Green Martian as well as a White. I don't remember meeting any Martians except that thing I just described. What I'm wondering...and very nearly freaking out about is... How can I know I met someone and not remember meeting them?!”
Henshaw looked uncomfortable. “Forgive the obvious but, why is it so hard to believe you've met a Green Martian on your travels? It's as likely as meeting a White, isn't it?”
“It isn't. Whites are blatantly aggressive, egotistical, self-superior assholes who as far as I'm told exterminated the Greens over 300 years ago. But I can't help thinking it's possible. I could have met one right? I mean...I know you have.”
Hank looked like I'd knocked him to the floor with this realization. “J'onn J'onzz was a green skinned alien. And if he was a martian like I'd thought...it would answer a Hell of a lot of questions.”
“You mean HE will.” I said emphatically. “Hank if we're right about this, I was there that night. I can think of no other time meeting an alien would have warranted that alien wiping my memory. You certainly weren't in the habit of keeping me in the dark about the people we met. No matter how a mission went, you wouldn't ret-con me to make me forget it. Hank, will you let me go find him, J'onn J'onzz I mean...so I can find some answers. I think we both know you can't be part of the mission. He'd flip to the ninth dimension if he saw you.”
“I'm not too keen on letting you go alone. Even if this man should be on our side. I mean even if we don't have a problem with him...He might not see it that way.
“Then let me go.” Mon'el of Daxam said stoically. “I look human and I can obviously handle myself if I need to. It should make him, whoever he is pause long enough to talk to him. Hank I can protect her, and I want to be there for he. Please, let me go with...you.”
“Nice use of non-third-person. I agree. He would have spared me last time because he could tell I wasn't native Earthen...Which means I wasn't a star in the ashes exception for your race. If I have someone similarly non-terrestrial with me...it might actually help.”
“Have you any idea where to look?” Hank said in a voice that made it clear he would rather put me in quarantine until I sobered up...but knew better than talk me out of finding answers.
“I've been getting an image in my mind, on an almost subconscious level the last few days. It's a map of Guatemala. Well, more like a picture of the country. Nothing but the word Guatemala embossed on it and what I can only assume is a tiny little won somewhere on it's Southern edge: Arias.”
'Alright, you two have a go on this mission. But Mon'el I already lost one good agent to this alien. Make sure I don't lose another.”
“If that was your way of charging me with her safety, I think it's kind of implied.”

“Why does this mission mean so much to you? Why is Hank SO troubled by where you're going?”
“Hank has encountered this particular alien before. He hasn't been able to make sense of that night. Apparently, I was there to see it...and never knew I'd met the Man. J'onn J'onzz is called 'the Martian Manhunter. Hank has as many unresolved feelings about it as I have questions. It was the night Jeremiah Danvers stood up like a mouse to a lion...and died saving his life.”
“That, is an extra-dose of a good reason.” Mon-el said reluctantly.

“She's not a Daxamite.” I told Mon'el Sternly.
“And how would you know.” He replied just as shortly.
“Because I just gave a kryptonian slur against your people and she responded as if it was her national anthem. She knows your language, but not how you feel about each-other.”
“...Good reason.” Mon'el said, relenting.
“You are a telepath then?” The woman said with steel in her words.
“An Em-path, yes. Thoughts aren't picked up on; emotions are. Your people have shall I say a unique frequency as far as that goes...Martian.” The illusion of a humanoid female melted away to reveal a muscular, bipedal alien with off-white skin and sharp eyes sunk deep in the head. between narrow pointed eyebrows and high, rigid cheekbones. Aggression and intrigue showed equally in the alien's face.
“You are far more clever than I gave you credit for.” It said coolly.
“Assuming for the moment you mean that personally rather than collectively. I have to ask, I mean I am not required to but I feel compelled to ask if the whole 'Phobos and Deimos thing is accurate...Or even a real thing.”
“And how, pray tell did one such as you come to learn the distinction?”
“Earth humans are not specifically empathic, though some posses a natural tendency toward such sensitivities and perceptions. And they've been living alone in their corner of the galaxy for most of their sentient existence.” I smiled broadly at the creature's puzzled stare. “I'm Xavallen, from Atridia. It wouldn't surprise me if you don't know it; my home planet is 50 miles past nowhere. But it isn't just my non-terrestrial origins that show me this, or the fact that I can pick up on your aggression as if you're deliberately projecting it toward me. I've encountered your kinds before. The taste you guys leave in my 'mouth' is not something I would easily forget.”
“You've encountered us more than once and yet live and breathe? I might reevaluate your race. And yes, I have heard o your kind.” He straightened his back and recited as if in school. “ ' If it is possible, in as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men'...Pathetic.”
“Is there something wrong with not wanting the whole world to be blind and toothless?” I shot back at it. And you're wrong on at least one thing. I've only encountered someone like you once. Greens are...well you don't need me to tell you they're a different story. But Greens and Whites have one thing in common from an outsider's perspective...outsider empaths anyway: There is nothing even remotely like you within 500 light years of this place.”
“What exactly are green and white martians?” Mon'el inquired.
“When I first knew Hank, he reminded me a lot of a White. What Hank's become, the sort of person he's grown into...would feel to me closer to a Green Martian or Xerilians. He would be their favorite new chew toy if they could get their hands on him.” I looked around as if I couldn't see who was in the room with me. I can tell that from the look on Mon'el's face when I withdrew from the room without asking permission or even taking my leave. When they caught up with me I was still out of sorts...and in no sense of the phrase composed.

Concerning the chosen title. There is a reason for it beyond simply melding Hank Henshaw with Jeremiah Danvers. Barry's dad on earth-1 is Henry Allen. As I'm currently planning it, on this Earth, Doctor Henry Allen runs STAR labs. But the titular character is not someone you've seen yet. I must remember that Hen-shaw is where they get the man's middle name: Shawn.