An original story of mine and a story that just felt like it needed writing.
“Dining on ashes J'onn?” Kal'el said floating a few feet above the balcony.
“That's a new one.” J'onn J'onzz said distractedly. "From you anyway."
“If the dark and slightly brooding look fits...and it seems to.” Kal'el landed at J'onn's left and walked over to him, smiling warmly.
“Well if it means chewing on the dry bones of your own stupidity, it does.”
“What's wrong? I know this doesn't mean what it should but I've never seen you like this.”
“Nikita compared me to Hank Henshaw.” The alien said miserably.
“You mean the military jerk who kept her prisoner for five years and tried to execute you on the spot? That'll do it.”
“Believe it or not Clark, that's not the problem. The trouble is...I think she was right.”
Kal'el of Krypton, or Clark Kent as he was known by most people on Earth, put his hand gently on J'onn's shoulder. “I'm here to listen if you want to talk.”
J'onn looked at his compatriot. “Not here. This place has more ears than I'd like to admit.”
“My father's place. 68.4 north Longitude, 77.2 West Latitude You'll need a heavy coat or thick skin.”
It took a moment for J'onn to react to his friends invitation. And a minute longer to understand it. “Well Clark I appreciate it. I'm just not sure...I'll see you there.”
“Welcome to the Fortress of Solitude.” Kal'el said amiably when he crossed the threshold into his second home. It was quite a beautiful place, a crystalline ice palace On Baffin Island just West of Greenland in the Arctic Circle. J'onn resumed his human form as soon as he landed, which made Kal'el smile slightly. “You don't have to hide here J'onn. We hold your people no ill-will. Besides...it is considered more honest.”
“...Very well.” J'onn closed his eyes and his skin quickly changed from that of a human African American male to the lime green pallor of his own race. His legs grew, his chest shrank slightly and his head sloped backward as it grew a good 12 centimeters.
“Master Kal, I did not know we'd be receiving guests.” A mild voice said from the near-distance.
“Kalex, fabricate some Rhown wine for me and my guest to share and then leave us to ourselves.”
Two champagne flutes of a carbonated beige colored liquid materialized on the pedestal in front of them. “Privacy mode initiated.”
“That's convenient.” J'onn said mildly.
“I didn't think this would be something meant for other ears.” Clark hesitated a moment. “And I get the feeling I should feel honored you would share this with me.”
Kal picked up a flute of the drink, J'onn raised his in a toast. “Tsu freynt, alt aun nay.”
“ 'To Friends, old and new.' ” Kal translated. “I didn't know you spoke Kryptonian.”
“It's an antidote to arrogance and a reminder of our humanness that we can still surprise each-other, the 4 of us.” J'onn said with a slight grin. “First I have to ask you if Nikita ever told you the story of how we met. Rather to what degree of detail she shared the story.”
“That Hank Henshaw took her and Jeremiah Danvers on a mission to execute a 'particularly dangerous alien' a description she and Jeremiah both laughed at until Hank told her it was a Martian they were going after. That she was ashamed of her mistake when she actually saw you.”
“Because unlike the human inhabitants of this world, she knew both Green and White Martians existed. Jeremiah Danvers and I held each other in high regard. Now that I know he's still alive, I can assume we still do. That was entirely due to the fact that Nikita trusted me without hesitation. For the past 4 years she and I have been working to make the DEO 'more like what it is today and less like what it was when I was first brought through its doors'. How many times have we heard her say that? And yet I never stopped to ask her, or even consider what it was like when she was brought into the DEO. I realize I'm telling a story in a very bad order here but...I just listened to a more detailed description of what Henshaw was really like pouring out of her mouth than what I've heard from anyone at the DEO since I arrived. And along with stories of why he's such a blind arrogant idiot and why she holds Jeremiah in such high regard in the first place. But the best part: she told me exactly what it means to be a low-level empath. I always assumed it meant the signals or readings in her mind were faint, distant or easily muddled. It turns out she senses the literal thoughts and intentions of anyone she's within 20 meters of, their very nature and essence ring into her ears...into her mind's eyes. Nothing can convince her not to act upon it. Do you know there are two species in the known galaxies that physiologically make her sick, no matter what she senses from the person?”
“I knew she reacted horribly to Infernians and White Martians; they make her double over in pain. It was Infernian to commit the attack for which I squarely blamed our Daxamite guest.”
“I found such a creature in her apartment, a White Martian. And their kind are monsters... abominations...murderers to me and of my people. Not only did she not let me take that thing into custody, Nikita stood in my way and told me to stand down. Among other things she said that her apartment, which she is beholden to me to be able to use is as much a sanctuary of peace as it is a sanctuary of life and that if I continue to disrespect that and use the wrong end of my anatomy I would quickly find out how thoroughly even a pacifist like herself could kick my ass.”
“White Martians are aggressive, relentless and egotistical. That's not just me repeating what you told me, my Kryptonian father said the same thing. Why would she defend one of them?" Kal-el mused. "And I am assuming this is at the core of this whole situation?”
“Nikita told me that as a White Martian, Meagan is shredding her insides. Who she is as a person she is calming me...Nikita...down. And that I was the one making her sick. I couldn't believe it. I still have trouble accepting it. When she told me I was the one reminding her of Hank Henshaw, I said what's probably the most thoughtless thing to ever come out of my mouth. I insisted that she remember I knew what Henshaw was like. She was there when we he tried to cut me down.”
“...And she reminded you that by comparison you were there for five minutes...she had to live under him for five years.” Kal'el finished slowly.
“Apparently he was a far more violent and thoughtless warden than I had given him credit for. And the one time she fought back was for Jeremiah's sake and not her own. She told me few days after we'd met that her treatment at the DEO had improved tremendously, but it was still incredibly new to her. I'm sure she's told you the same.”
“She never stops saying it...but never says anything more either.” Kal'el agreed.
“I am seriously regretting never asking her before...what her life was like even a year before I knew her. Truth is I never even tried to think about what it had been like before, what it was like under Henshaw for her or anyone else. With Me'gann standing right there she explained how she and Jeremiah became such a close team. Basically they respected and trusted each-other so completely that Henshaw brought them on missions together...a military unit is supposed to have each-others backs and they did so quite naturally...the two of them I mean. Then she turned to look at me with the most devastated expression you could ever fear to see on someone's face and said 'I understand you might not want to see me again. And you probably won't want me working at the D.E.O.; and that's alright. But there is nothing you can do to stop me from being exactly who I am.' Then asked me to leave her house, leaving her and her guest alone. I've never felt so insulted and yet rightly-embarrassed in my life. When I got back to the D.E.O. I talked to a few other inmates and realized how greatly their lives improved once I took over. Understand I did nothing as director except make sure they deserved to be there before keeping them locked up and they got medical treatment they weren't allergic to. Today I've learned even that was an improvement from their treatment at the hands of that monster Henshaw. I thought I knew him because he wanted me executed rather than captured. But he was...”
“...Everything you don't want to be.” Kal'el finished lamely.
“Exactly. And well, do you remember how it felt getting 'dressed down' for bad manners?”
The oblique reference was not lost on the Kryptonian. “Thank you for putting it gently. I don't think I'll forget that any time soon: I assumed Mon'el was responsible for an attack he was physically incapable of and jailed him at the DEO without a trial...something Nikita rightly pointed out I didn't have the authority for. In the process reminded a former DEO prisoner of the treatment she fought so hard to overcome. Worse, I became everything the two of you were trying not to allow...and acted as if in control of the situation.”
“Okay, that part I don't know about.” J'onn said quickly.
“I speak as a citizen of Earth when I meet people from other planets; after all I was raised here. But when I spoke to Mon'el I spoke as though I was an agent of the DEO, as if my prejudices towards Daxamites was DEO policy. And as if it was with their--your authority I was detaining him. The dressing down she gave me was mostly for being so completely wrong about a person and misusing an authority I had no right to claim. She said I 'was the DEO's strongest alien ally but still an ally of the DEO, not a part of it'. And that 'If I was going to speak as one of us, I might want to get my perspective straight'. I never knew she had so much passion, I never knew her to speak with such fierce conviction. It threw me completely off. I asked her what had infected her with this much 'passionate intensity' and she said 'you should ask the man whose face J'onn is wearing for that one.' Not exactly anyone's finest moment.”
"You can say that again." J'onn replied, thoroughly dejected.
Nikita has her own off-site apartment provided by the D.E.O. And several days after these events, Jeremiah stop by Nikita's place at J'onn's behest to learn if Nikita is ticked at J'onn for a falling out and what the heck even happened in the first place. Twenty minutes of exposition follow explaining the avoidable, if understandable missteps that cropped up at the D.E.O over the past 11 years, a lot of which played out, or RE-played out under her roof the last time she saw the Green Martian to whom she was beholden and with whom she was 'attuned'. Green and White Martins are the equal of what would happen if Isaac and Ishmael took their people along such divergent paths that they became two separate races instead simply having 2 separate religions...And hated each-other's guts. She had been 'harboring' or protecting a white Martian, knowing what it was. Something J'onn had not like nor understood. Nikita stares Jeremiah in the eyes:
“Believe me, I know where he was coming from. But from my perspective he was still judging someone for their race and their looks instead of on their own merits, instead of seeing the individual before them for who they really were. Or even bothering to look. When we first met J'onn I could tell the kind of person he was, regardless of which breed of Martian he was, or that he was one. My inherent tendency worked to J'onn's advantage then. I simply extended the same courtesy, or rather proclivity and consideration to my guest. And that's the other thing. I ended up kicking J'onn out of my apartment, I flat out told him to leave because the alien he was so intent to drag away to prison was a guest under my roof and my responsibility. One thing that has been true for the last 27 years is that no one with a brain in their skull insults a friend on mine in my house.. Not even my closest friends get away with THAT.”
After treating Henry's wound and not batting an eye at J'onn's green Martian-ness J'onn challenges Eloise in such a way that she locks herself in her bedroom.
J'onn J'onzz: (Uncertainly) why do I get the feeling we just repaid kindness with betrayal?
Henry Allen: (sadly) Because that's exactly what we did.
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