Oliver's Truest Friend

 The Start of Something Wonderful

Oliver Queen stared at the young man, a look of utter confusion on his face. It seemed like a better option than absolute incredulity. He'd seen this man before...in the bunker. Officer Lance and John Diggle stared mildly as this kid who looked like he should have been in high school walked up to them, apologizing for being late to a crime scene.

“Great, who the hell are you?” Officer Lance asked the kid.

“And do your parents know you're out here?” Oliver said with a sarcastic edge.

“I'm Barry Allen I'm from the Central City Police Department I'm from the Crime Scene Investigation Unit. We're working on a case over there with a few similar qualities to this...rather unusual robbery. So my captain sent me down here to see if they might be connected. And you're wrong by the way, this wasn't a team, it was one guy.”

“You mean one man tore through the door, ripped this outta the ground like tin foil?”

“There's only one set of prints in the floor, other than the victims and the bruising on the guards neck is consistent with manual strangulation. It's like he held the guy's neck with one hand and snapped it. Which is a lot harder to do than a lot of people realize...medically speaking I mean.” Barry said in a rush.

'Who is this guy. He's not wrong; whoever did this is juicing steroids on crack. But...”

“What do you think Oliver?” John Diggle said suddenly. “Oliver?” He repeated.

“I think things are getting interesting. I'd like to hear more about what is going on here.”

“I'm sure we all would.” Felicity said casually. “And I can tell the gers are turning, I will leave you to that.” She turned away.

“Ms. Smoak, a word?” Officer Lance said in his quiet but urgent tone. She walked a few steps away with him. “Any word from our green-hooded friend?” Lance asked in a low whisper. Felicity was forced to smile. It hadn't been so long ago Detective Lance had been pursuing the vigilante as a threat the city needed to be rid of and had had no clue who she was. And now Officer Lance was helping her and the Arrow catch the bad guys. And while he didn't realize it, 'the Arrow' was already aware of the crime, solving it on scene with them.

“You're right, this is something he'd be interested in. I'll 'get word'.”

Meanwhile Oliver was having almost as interesting a conversation with Barry Allen. “Is this why you're here? And what the hell is going on?”

“I don't know what the hell is going on. And figuring that out is why I'm here, yes.”

“We have a very pointed conversation in our very near future.”

“The kind at the end of an arrow or the more colloquial kind.” Oliver started to glare at him. “I didn't mean that as a threat. I'm just a little nervous, sorry.”

“Well that's fair enough. And no, I'm not threatening you. But I am curious.”

“Understandably. I just don't thing this is a particularly good time to have this talk.”

Oliver looked around the room and realized in an instant that the guy had a point. “Alright, but soon. Maybe tonight, Verdant, 9 pm?”

“Yeah I'll...I'll be there.”

“You're going off to have a drink with that guy?” Officer Lance said casually.

“Just thought that maybe he won't be so weird in a non-crime-lab setting.”

“That guy oozes weird Oliver.” Quentin Lance said with a shake of his head.

“...Don't disagree.” Oliver replied. "But all the best people are at least a little weird." Quentin nodded his acceptance and went back to examining the crime scene. keeping a weather eye on the young scientist.

Oliver turned to leave and found John Diggle beside him. “You know that kid?”

“We've Met. Something tells me I'm going to be seeing a lot more of him too.”

“Someone we need to keep our guard up around?” Diggle guessed.

“At least until we can figure him out.”

Barry Allen had been in town for 2 days. In that time he had managed to save the Arrow's life, show up at Queen Industries with a lot of good answers for everything, and fanboy over all the cool gear at the bunker. He had also managed to introduce himself to John, Felicity, Quentin and Laurel Lance and give very different impressions to each of them. Oliver had to admit, that was probably because each of his friends would look at a person differently, and be looking at different markers. Officer Quentin Lance hadn't noticed anything particularly wrong with the guy, except that he was one weird kid. John had kept his opinions mostly to himself but agreed they needed to keep their guard up around him for now. Laurel had laughed at his cuteness of which he had plenty, and Felicity was glad to finally have someone to speak geek with. After calling Captain David Singh of the CCPD and confirming Barry Allen does in fact work for him as a part of the Crime Scene Investigation Unit, Oliver was willing to give Barry the benefit of the doubt. Especially after Barry had given him leads on where to find several of the criminals involved in various heists around town, an analysis of the DNA of the man who had left him flat on his back. Oliver had a feeling that Barry showing up at the bunker, learning who was under the hood, appearing at a crime scene where something impossible happened was simply too coincidental to be a coincidence. For him the only question was whether Barry was trying to be an actual cop and solve these crimes himself or was involved in them. 'Barry is not good at answering questions. I am good at finding answers.' He mused.

So when a call came up about a group 'lifting' an industrial complex at Polk and California, he left to find the truth as much as to stop the thieves. Except the kid wasn't anywhere around.

The Flash was. Taking down the Dragons of the South Side. Oliver couldn't hear a word come out of the young man's mouth as he literally sped around bashing guys on the top of the head or nailing them square in the back. Some of the most efficient non-lethal force he had ever seen. Then Oliver drew his bow. “Slowly turn.” Was all he said.

The Flash turned slowly around, hands up and apart. “You are unmistakably the one they call The Arrow.” The Flash said in a disguised voice. “Starling City's silent Guardian.”

“You are the hero of Central City. The speedster they call The Flash. And now that we've gotten introductions out of the way, tell me what you're doing here in my city?”

“I'm helping out a friend and he's helping me.”

Oliver relaxed his grip on his bow. “Barry Allen. That's why he's here? To help you?”

“Barry Allen.” The Flash said fondly. “He wants to do good and I trust him. When I work with the cops it's through him and Detective Joe West. When I need a cop's help, I go to him specifically.”

“You don't do a very good job of protecting your friends.”

“He's proud of it. Of being able to help more than just official cases that come across his lab desk. And considering how he never shuts up about you. I doubt he'd mind.”

“How well does he know me? And how far.”

“He wouldn't even tell me your name. And he's pretty good at investigating and solving any problems that are as impossible as I am. Can I put my hands down now?” Oliver lowered his bow and pointed it to the ground. Flash dropped his hands and a small smile appeared on his face. “Look, I realize he can be pretty fanboy. But he's a good kid. Don't shred him okay?”

“A man in a mask and voice changer asking me to give someone else the benefit of the doubt is kind of a stretch.”

Flash's face hardened, and if possible his eyes narrowed. “Then how bout figuring him out first, passing judgment on him later.”

“...That I can do.”

“Listen whoever you are...Barry Allen is a science genius and a loyal friend. He can help. If you're worried he told me who you were...he didn't. If you're worried he's secretly a criminal, he isn't. He's as honest as they come. Otherwise I wouldn't keep him around.”

“That doesn't exactly inspire my confidence about you. But I take your point about him.”

“Why no mask?” Barry said offhand. “Not to tell you how to do the vigilante thing, but the grease paint you use is a poor identity concealer.”

“So find me a mask which conforms perfectly to my face and doesn't effect my ability to aim while I'm on the run.”

“You should look into a compressible micro-fabric. It could be great.” Barry said with his charming yet infuriating grin.

“Flash was right, you do know your stuff.”

“You're not the only one who thinks of me as a baby-face. Almost everyone at CCPD thinks I'm too young for the job. If I wasn't so good at it I wouldn't have it.”

“Who is Detective Joe West?”

Barry let his jaw go slack. “How do you even know that name?”

“The Flash told me when he needs a cops help he goes to you and Detective Joe West. So who is Detective Joe West.”

“He's the man who raised me. We are now Deep in 'too personal for comfort' territory.”

“I don't disagree.” Oliver replied. Then gave a small chuckle. “Someone telling *me I'm getting too personal for them. That's a switch.”

Oliver looked at Barry from across the bunker. There was something about him Oliver just didn't like. The Flash had vouched for him which had been more than enough to kill any thoughts he had about Barry being a criminal. But something was still off about the guy.

“Barry, can I take to you for a second?”

“Yeah sure.” The two of them walked off about 12 paces. “What's up man?”

“I'm not the most trusting person in the universe as you might have noticed.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I have a hard time trusting anyone who keeps themselves so closed off. Who shs so little of themselves. I need to know...Why are you doing this?” Strangely Barry Allen showed no signs of offense or injury. He merely slumped his shoulders a little bit and said. “Wait 3/10's of a second.” And ran away. And in one-third of a second the Flash was standing in front of him. The man didn't say a word. Instead he pulled his cowl back revealing...Barry Allen. “Everything I told you before was true. Both as the Flash and as myself. Well, obviously Captain Singh did not send me here on official business that was made up. But you already knew that.”

“You saw something 'meta' happening outside your town, decided to investigate?”

“Well...yeah pretty much.”

“I don't understand, why reveal yourself?”

“You mean other than you of all people understood what it meant to live a double life?” You were right. I can't ask you to trust me if I don't trust you. And one thing you'll probably learn about me pretty fast is that I'm as trusting as you are cynical.”

“Yeah that part I already knew. But it honestly still doesn't answer my question..”

“Yes it does. There's a kind of weirdness happening here that I thought only happened in Central City. I was thinking some meta creeped there way over here. But whoever is responsible for this isn't altered in that way more - whacked out.”

“The world is a more complicated place than people are comfortable believing. So what do you say the two of us figure out the story of this whacked out nut-job...together.”

“I'm agreeable. In fact I have a science friend who could probably help with that.”

“Another adorable nerd like yourself?” Felicity Smoak said from Barry's left. The both turned to look at her. “I'm sorry you guys 'covert argue' very noticeably.”

“This has been an interesting day.” Oliver said under his breath.

“Harrison Wells.” Barry said comfortably.

Felicity smiled. “What, The Harrison Wells? I mean THE Doctor Harrison Wells?”

“He's the reason I'm any hero at all. He gave me my powers...Yes Dr. Harrison Wells.”

“He gave you your powers, how the hell did he do that?”

“Remember the Particle Accelerator?” Felicity and Oliver nodded. “Well apparently it actually did do something. It broke a barrier in reality and let exotic particles into our world. Including dark matter. People who get infected by that stuff, become meta-humans, like me. Before we do anything, I have another question to answer... who Detective West is.”

“You already answered that one Barry.”

“But I think you should hear the whole story.” Oliver gave a respectful nod and put his hands at his sides. “My parents were murdered when I was 11. Joe adopted me. I was a kid who loved math and chemistry growing up and not very physically strong. So when I went to join him at work, it was as a CSI not a 'proper' cop. I was in a coma for nine months and when I woke up I had speedster powers. Doctor Wells has been looking out for me, training me ever since. Coming here, is well, not particularly sanctioned by Captain Singh. It's something I'm doing for myself. Can you understand that?”

Oliver walked up to Barry and pulled the cowl back down over his head, symbolically making him the Flash again. “I can understand that very well. Now let's get this guy.”

“A man in a mask and voice changer asking me to give someone else the benefit of the doubt is kind of a stretch.”

Flash's face hardened, and if possible his eyes narrowed.. “Then how bout figuring him out first, passing judgment on him later.”

“...That I can do.”

“Listen whoever you are...Barry Allen is a science genius and a loyal friend. He can help. If you're worried he told me who you were...he didn't. He's as honest as they come. Otherwise I wouldn't keep him around.”

“That doesn't exactly inspire my confidence about you.” Oliver replied. “But I take your point about him.”

Stronger Together

Jeremiah's first fully open and friendly conversation at Arias with anyone except J'onn.

And boy does he learn a lot!

Jeremiah walks into Sarrin's room. She is clearly somewhere else in her mind. Not frantic, but completely and totally in another room and another time. She sits on the floor and looks at him.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.”

“Jeremiah you never have to apologize to me for something like that. I like being able to share. It's in my nature to have very thin boundaries.”

“In that case, it didn't seem like you were caught up in a memory.”

“That's one gift of my people. What we see in our minds eye, if we work at it, is as real to us as the physical world.”

“Are you like Xavallens then?”

“You know about Xavallens?” Jeremiah simply nods. “You've met one before?”

“Is it really that rare? Are they really that rare?”

“It's rare to meet one anymore. Let alone someone on a planet tucked in its own little corner of space could have met -if I'm hearing the missing notes correctly got to know- one. Their home-world was destroyed almost 300 years ago. Most of them are nomadic. But some have established themselves as minorities on a few other planets. And three thousand years ago Atraxi, Enkarens and Xavallens were one species on one planet, one continent even. The Enkarens left for the distant shores and spent so much time just among themselves...that's why they look so much like themselves they didn't have anyone else to procreate with. We went to Thelia and Atridia, neighboring continents and were still very much part of each-others lives. That's why my people and Xavallens look so much like each-other. By the time any of us reached for the stars, Enkarens didn't look like us anymore. They looked like...well they literally were a concentrated version of what all of us had been. I'm not sure how literally to take the story but it is TRUE. No one knows exactly when we reached for the stars, or even if we left together. The races my people found must have been a lot like our own because our genes haven't faded.” She brushed the turquoise fish scales at her temples. “It's the one external difference between my people and Xavallens. We figure genetically it's a sign of genes hat have gone dormant in Xavallens. And the greater of our powers along with it.”

“Okay, not sure what you mean there, Nikita had powers.”

“Nikita, male or female?”

“Female.”

“Well Xavallens are still low-level empaths, but it really is diluted compared to us. I'm not being mean I'm letting you know that my people are intense, immediate empaths. Anything person in the room affects us, and we feel everything as if it was a part of us. I feel crap as if it were my own.” She rubbed her right wrist with her left hand. “Xavallens sense things, we experience them. That's why I spend so much time alone. I don't mind experiencing what you and J'onn give me. And J'onn's mental abilities allow him to put up certain barriers so I don't sense everything about him all at once. But some people are... even when it's not bad stuff or unpleasant it's overwhelming.” She lay on her stomach as if settling down with a good book.

“I take it those same abilities are enhanced or amplified in the Enkaren genome now?”

“How do you mean?”

“You said Enkarens were the extreme of themselves—yourselves. And if all of you had the genetics for these abilities...”

“Yes, you are right. Outside of my people and Xavallens, Enkarens aren't recognized as having anything to do with us. They have this ability that is known as traumatic hypnosis.. An Enkaren can absolutely make you believe that whatever surroundings they feed into your minds eye is absolutely real. A more intense version of what I was doing when you walked in here.”

“Would a half-breed still maintain these abilities?”

Clearly thrown off. “A half-breed Enkaren? Well yeah if the other half is a compatible species.”

“What about half-human?”

“No one would try that. No one bothers with Earth.”

“Are we truly such a in-the-middle-of-nowhere planet in the cosmos?”

“Well, no so much. It's more your rationality... which is not the right word. How you think of yourselves as being alone in the cosmos and how much we would have to prove that we are at least your equals. Some of us, like my people or Euphorians, can mostly blend in here. But J'onn in his native form. Well let's just say if he couldn't look more human than he does, he'd never leave his house in the morning."

“Are we really so backwards, so tucked into our own little corner of the universe, that everyone else avoids us?”

“You mean why would at least a few members of a nomadic race not settle on Earth?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I imagine they would but again they look like you. I mean they look as much like you as Kryptonians don't they? And she certainly would not have had any externally discernible powers that would draw your attention. How did you know what race Nikita even was?”

“You compare them to Kryptonians specifically.” Jeremiah said in a strange voice.

“I was born on their planet.”

Jeremiah's face went completely slack. Sarrin's expression became withdrawn.

“I take it you have some bad memories of that place?” Jeremiah said finally.

“You take it In-correctly.” Sarrin replied. “I was still a child when I left. And most of my memories of that place are actually pretty decent. It is a noble memory, not a sad one that gives my face this look.” She picked up the clipboard from under the coffee table and began drawing.

I was 8 years old when my mom and I fled the planet. But here.” She handed Jeremiah the clipboard. On it was a single symbol, drawn in purple. “I've never been much of an Artist but someone wearing this symbol broke the law saving my mother and I.”

             (Larger Superman symbol with elongated S)

Jeremiah picked up a darker pen and began drawing a second symbol on the clipboard.

“Are you sure it wasn't something like this?

                    (Proportionate Superman symbol with properly placed 'S')

“What in the name of whatever God you believe in.”

“I have an adopted son. When he was 12 years old he found a small trunk filled with things from his past. Including a one-piece suit with this symbol on it, like a breastplate. Can you tell me what it means?”

"It's his family crest.” Notes the confusion on Jeremiah's face. “Kryptonian family units are Houses...the lesser houses would wear thier symbols on the cuff of thier shirts, near the wrist. The 'nobler' houses would wear them on their chest." Sarrin looked away, clearly saddened by the memory. "Trying to leave the planet had been declared 'inciting panic based on groundless suspicions'...until the day the skies tuned red and the ground beneath us began to shake. My people were...unimportant. Pushed to the side during the evacuation. Someone wearing that symbol helped my mother and I on one of the transports. But he stayed behind. I didn't recognize the crest. I never learned his name."

“My son's Kryptonian name is Kal-El. It was in the message.”

“A son of the house of El. That's comforting...somehow.”

A Missing Record

Sarrin is the one person whose perspective is needed and this is a hidden scene that for whatever reason falls through the cracks in the retelling of this story.

Her physical description is not given but she has straight, DARK red hair that ends at her earlobe, is very slight and walks with her chin pointed a little down. She also has what looks like fish scales at her temples, beside her eyes.

There is a conversation, a scene which precedes this by 2 years. In which Oliver Queen and his friend Sarrin encounter the Green Martian J'onn Jo'nzz. Here, Jeremiah Danvers went above and beyond the line of duty in protecting his commanding officer. It should be noted that Jeremiah is the narrator and is mentally misspelling his hosts name to be Jean Jones.

“Am I a prisoner here?” I persisted.

“No restraints but there is a perimeter. That is my understanding.” the young woman replied. She tilted her head to the left. “Please, introductions should come first. My name is Sarrin, and you?”

“Jeremiah.”

“Jere-miah. That is a good name.”

“Forgive me but are you...what planet are you from?”

“I am Atraxi. My planet of origin was not the home planet for my people. I was 8 years old when my mother and I left it. I was almost 10 when we made our home on the West coast of the United States.”

“It took that long to get to Earth?”

“Well, to get to Earth and learn enough about it to know that northern California is a pretty cool place, yes. I should have started by saying 'welcome to Arias'. It's our collection of friendly faces of various alien races and a few of the more tolerant humans. Of which you seem the best.”

I didn't understand what she meant, so I decided to press on the the part I was actually concerned about. “Jean is you leader?”

“J'onn Jo'nzz is the leader of our community, yes. But I am not wearing a bracelet.”

“Please elaborate.”

“I'm not afraid of him, or you. That's not why I'm this high-strung. By my very nature I am unsteady and uncertain. And to be blunt I am more concerned that you think accurately of us than you think well of us. And far more concerned about that than I am offending you.”

“That is...very helpful to know. And you are an incredibly perceptive individual.”

“My people, like Xavallens and Enkarens, sense emotional vibrations. But unlike them I am not reading your heart, like I read a book, I feel whatever is coming from you without effort and without real choice. Now I can try to read your heart, search the core of your being. Please believe me that I would not do so without your permission. Well I cannot claim that. If J'onn asked me I would do so. And to tell you the truth I am tempted to do so anyway. I swear I am not trying to be intrusive. I can tell you are an extra-ordinary individual and I'm... really curious as to the why. But it's not the same as reading minds. I am an empath not a tele-path.”

“ ' Discerner of the thoughts and intentions of the heart' is that it?”

“More like 'motivations and intentions' but yes essentially.”

“A world without ego without selfishness without...lies.”

“Oh trust me, lies exist. But they are usually for a much better reason. Thinking of which, J'onn is eager to talk with you. But his people are telepaths and psychic. All of their communication would have been through thought. He will probably send you his words that way. Or send them to me and hear your answers as you speak.”

“You said you were not a telepath.”

“One does not need to be a telepath to hear the thought projections of an individual who is one. I have an extremely compartmentalized, that is a well-ordered mind. Makes it easier for me to hear and understand what he is trying to say. I wanted to assure you he will not search through your thoughts looking for hidden truths. It is communication only not...the other thing. If that was what you were – to be polite expecting to be candid anticipating – you are incorrect. To quote an old television show “Let him have every liberty, except liberty itself.” It is that kind of situation.”

I nodded. “House arrest.”

“I just realized you have been asleep for hours. And probably do not know where you are.”

“Well, how far are we from the way-point?”

“A good 6 hours walk but that's not what I mean. Arias is the name of the village we have built here for ourselves. It is our community of friendly individuals from various points across the stars. And this...you...are on its outer edge.” She looked hard at me to make sure I understood her meaning. I nodded my confirmation. “In fact, if you were up for it, I was to take you on a little bit of a tour around the place. But only if you are up for it.”

“Do you always talk like that?”

“Uncertain, overly concerned, quiet but intense? Yeah pretty much.” She said with the first true smile I had seen on her face. “If you mean with such a precise use of English that it seems like my second language, also yes. Because it's my Fourth.”

“Okay, please explain that to me.”

She started counting on her fingers. “My own peoples language, the official language of my home planet, the first Earth language I ever learned which wasn't English and then English.”

“You landed on the West coast and English wasn't the first language you learned?”

“What major city would stand out like a shining light in Northern California?”

“San Francisco...Chinatown. You learned Mandarin first.”

“Nail-on-head.” She gave me a strange look. “Being 10- degrees off however has less to do with proper English as having greater concern for clear communication than accurate convention. I don't care about getting the expression right, only expressing myself clearly. Different as daylight and darkness' instead of 'different as night and day' is not a near-miss. Some have negative ideas of the harsh light of day and positive ideas of the cool winds of night. To make sure you actually get what I'm saying...”

“You make it damn near impossible not to understand what you are saying. That's why Jean has you do the introductions. You understand both of our worlds but don't claim either one.”

“There's that.” A deep voice said suddenly. “And she sees beyond sight in a way I have never encountered before.”

I would be hard-pressed to disagree with you, Jean.” I looked at him and felt myself blush. “Listen I realize you have practically no reason to trust me, but you can believe me when I say I am glad to meet you.” Jean looked at me like I had just told a very good joke. I could swear Sarrin was hiding a personal smile behind her serene expression. “What did I say?”

“Jeremiah, I have every reason in the world to trust that you mean what you say. You are the most honorable individual I have met since I came to this planet. That was 300 years ago. I just hope you can believe ME when I tell you the feeling is mutual. That I am glad to meet you as well.”

“Whatever else is going on, I do not doubt your intentions. And I hope to prove mine. Starting with what a Xavallen friend of mine would have referred to as 'proper introductions'.” I put my hands to my heart, fingers pointed inward. “I'm Jeremiah Danvers. For my part you can consider me a friend.” I offered my hand and for a moment he looked at it as if he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it. Then he straightened himself like a solider and offered his own right hand.

“I am...J'onn Jo'nzz.”

“Sarrin told me she was to take me on a walk around Arias if I was up to it. I'm surmising that was less an assignment from you and more an idea out of her own head?”

“Yes, but she said it that way to illustrate to you that I was alright with it. Sarrin can be... more direct that precise sometimes.”

“I'm picking up on that.”

Jeremiah was brought here to live and stay after the mission to terminate a particularly dangerous alien went the way it did. Jeremiah stayed with J'onn as kind of a willing captive. Exchanging himself for Hank Henshaw. In his offer itself it was for his freedom as well as his life. “If you will not only let him live but let him go.” As a result he is a captive in that he cannot escape but his life is otherwise perfectly normal. Basically he has every liberty, except liberty itself.

Garden of Hope

“Stop, please.” The alien raised his fist, relenting from his assault. “Is this how you prove your superiority? Attacking a defenseless solider?”

“You defend him, why? Who is he to you?”

“He is my commanding officer. I make no excuses for his intentions nor my own actions. He's no longer any threat to you, leave him alone. We have rules even in plain war, you don't kick a man when he's down. If for no other reason than to prove you're better than us...better than him...leave him be.” My words must have made an impact because he stepped away from us. 'You are a strange one, whoever you are.' I heard the man say. Although I'm not entirely sure he said it.

“I'd be happy to never see his like again. But I cannot trust that you would leave me alone. I cannot simply let you go.”

“You don't want him anywhere near you. I understand. I hope that...Do you have the same problem with me?”

The stranger stepped closer to me, almost like he was taking my measure. Trying to determine what he thought of me and what kind of person I was. I tried to do the same and found myself rather drawn to the man. I saw something almost noble about him. He was a solider and an experienced one at that. He had seen enough battle to value life. After a few moments he stepped back. “You are better than him.”

“He has a beacon in his vest pocket. An emergency signal for extraction. They'll come for him. We'll be safe.”

“I honestly do not understand what you are trying to say.”

“I'm asking that you let Hank go home; I'll stay.”

“You would give up your freedom for this man's life?”

“For his freedom and his life, yes.”

He looked at me with the strangest expression I have ever seen. He seemed mystified any human would so willingly make that sacrifice. I realized he was surprised that any human would surrender so completely, so damn near unconditionally to an alien, and mean it. “I suppose I am suggesting almost a prisoner exchange. Hank is a solider, he'll understand. Sir, I swear to you on anything that would matter, if you will not only let him Live but let him Go, you can take me. I will not leave and I will not fight. I take my oath on it.”

“There is nothing I like better than an honorable man.” He knelt down and touched the side of Hank's face with the back of his hand. Henshaw's eyes closed and he seemed to drift off to sleep. “Send a signal for him to be retrieved, then leave your radio and come with me. Or better, give me your radio.” I handed it to him and was not entirely surprised to hear Hank's voice come out of the man's mouth. “This is commander Hank Henshaw requesting immediate extraction.” There was silence on the other end. I repeat this is – say 'Director' – this is Director Hank Henshaw requesting extraction.”

“Acknowledged director we're 7 minutes out.”

“So, what happens now?”

“There's a stop along the road, an old hiding place nearby, we'll head there.”

“Wait, please...we should at least learn each-others names.”

“Yes, in fact that should have come first. Not to introduce yourself is considered extremely rude even among enemies....Which we are no longer enemies.”

I pointed to my heart with both hands. “I'm Jeremiah Danvers.” I extended my hand.

He looked at it like he'd never seen anything like it before in his life. Then extended his right hand. “I am...J'onn Jo'nzz.”

We walked for a couple of hours, headed southeast near as I could tell. Eventually we came to what might have been an old schoolhouse. He waved me inside. There was a coffee table, a floor lamp and a makeshift mattress propped up on cinder blocks. “I sincerely hope you'll be comfortable here. There's a lavatory over the breezeway. I have a friend I must visit before sundown.”

“Thank you.” I said in a rush.

“ I should be thanking you.” And left without another word.

The next morning he came back. I stood the instant he walked into the room. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable. “I do not know...I don't intend...” He stammered.

I realized he had misinterpreted my overture. “I'm sorry. I stood at attention every time Hank walked into the room. Old habits really must die hard.”

“A sign of respect or fear?”

“Respect, for his authority and position. He was my superior offic... I do not fear you. Of that you may be assured.”

“Then please, no unneeded courtesy or ceremony. It comes off as pretense.”

“Take your own advice.”

He actually smiled at me. But didn't say anything else. I realized the ball was still in my court. “Do I intimidate You?” I asked him.

“Confuse me, yes. I can tell there is more to you than most. You are, as Sarrin would no doubt say, 'a glorious exception'.”

“You mean I'm better than most humans you know?”

“Exactly that. Shall we have an exchange of truths?”

“I'm game.”

“Tell me why you are so unshaken by me.”

“I'm rather familiar with at least one very cool alien. Two if you count my adopted son. And not all the aliens the D.E.O. encountered were hostiles to be caged. Something we took to heart and took into account when we worked. For whatever reason we honestly thought you were a threat. Your physical appearance had nothing to do with it. Even if it did? I can trust the evidence of my eyes.”

“So you trust me not to be your jailer.”

“I'm not sure how to take that actually. And it isn't intimidation you are sensing from me as much as...uncertainty. I don't know what to expect.”

“I don't intend to treat you as any sort of captive Jeremiah. I never did. You are ___my guest. As welcome here as myself.”

“Would I seem ungrateful to ask why you are being so kind to me?” Jean gave a start. “I wasn't an eager participant but I WAS on a mission to kill you.”

“I've lived on this planet for 300 years and you were the first human to treat me as an equal, knowing who I really was. I could look human if I wanted to. If I wanted to, I could look like your commanding officer. You and Henshaw are the first humans in more than 50 years to see me as I truly am FIRST. And you didn't fear me. Come to that, I don't think either of you were particularly afraid of me.”

“Hank is narrow-minded and stubborn. But he isn't as bad as people think.” Suddenly I felt like hanging my head. “I owe you an apology. I do not understand how but we were VERY wrong about you. And I am sorry.”

“I understand.”

“What is this place?” I asked him.

“A...a place that you have to see for yourself. Are you ready?”

“Lead the way.”

Thus begins six years of peace and incorporate league both in Arias Peru and the Department of Extra-normal Operations on the West coast of the United States.

Timeless Frozen Ocean Aka: D.E.O. Revelations

“I thought we were a little overdue for a chat.” The young woman said to the solemn, dark-skinned man at her door. “Well, in or out choose one.”

“I rather deserve that. We need to have a serious talk.” A shiver went up Nikita's spine.

“I'm sorry; it still kinda gives me the chills when you talk like that.”

“I'm surprised it doesn't make you want to punch something...especially me.”

“Hank, what exactly are you here to hear from me? I mean we both know there is a pretty serious animal in the room, but what do you think that animal looks like...a tiger or an elephant?”

“Well that's actually what I'm asking...If I understand you correctly there is definitely some giant Herbivore that's stopping us from solving a damn problem. But if it is not a frightened dog -- and I can tell it is not -- why is it not a tigress? And why is it not turning on its kidnappers? Nikita I really mean it...why don't you hate me?”

“I have no reason on the face of this earth to hate you Hank. And I have nothing to fear from you anymore. Aside from the fact that hate is useless, I can sense everything that makes you who you are. The essence or core of a person, a soul I guess it's called. I don't mean an immortal thing. It isn't of everyone but I've spent enough time around you I can hear your proverbial heart. There is nothing in you now that even resembles what I sensed from you before...the person you were when you and I used to sit here and have those endless debates. I cannot hold who you were over the man you are now. It's actually against my own scriptures to do so.”

“Were you a priest on your planet?” Hank looked shocked and stupefied and a couple other things at once. “I'm sorry but everyday Christians don't hold so unswervingly or effortlessly to Christian teachings. Only those with religious training or holy orders so devotedly follow, even our own 'scriptures'. Are you the equal to a Franciscan friar?”

“Only in so far as the teachings in our holy book resemble closely what I have read in your Bible. And it's one of a very few things I have of my culture of origin. I never attended church back home. I would have if I'd had the liberty, I wasn't given that opportunity. I wasn't a prisoner I was...a shameful secret. I stayed at home, read books, watched holo-vids and read The Good Book over and over again. I KNOW the ten tales that comprise my peoples most sacred book. The only good thing that came from being hidden away is how easily I can follow the star in my own heart, and live as I would be taught....even without the...Basic Instructions By Light Eternal. On my desk.”

'I've heard the Bible called Basic Instruction Before Lea...You meant your scriptures, didn't you?”

“We read them by lamplight and they are the light that guides our way as we journey along through life. We don't argue about what the afterlife looks like and there is never any doubt that one exists–Yeah, I didn't mean the Bible. Although from what I've read, even though it gets drown out a lot, the Ten Certain Tales are found in your Bible as well. Hank you've made the conscious choice to be different, to be better than you were before. More than that you have succeeded. You ARE a man a million times better than who you were. I will not hold onto that hot coal just waiting for you to backslide so I can stone you with it. I realize I am mixing A-ton of metaphors here, but they fit. From my perspective, from my personal perspective as well as the teaching of my own people's scriptures,  holding your past self against the man standing in front of me right now is not only stupid, it's morally wrong. Hate is as painful as it is destructive, and completely useless. The fires of the past hurt like hell, why would I choose to keep them burning hot?”

“Forgotten, but not gone?” Hank Henshaw said mildly.

“Oh trust me, this shrap still hurts...I just don't let it dig into my back.”

The Victorious 'Dead'

These next several entries will all be part of the same story. They will tell the tale of Jeremiah's Offer, Hank Henshaw's change of heart and how both found peace. This is at the end of the story. And the beginning fo the rest of thier lives.

Green skinned alien: You would give up your freedom for this man's life?
Jeremiah Danvers: For his freedom AND his life yes.

Sure I felt like a prisoner at first. Sarrin said I was a captive in that I could not escape. She wasn't wrong. But I'm not about to...break faith with you.”

“Do you honestly believe that's what you'd be doing by checking up on a friend? Sarrin felt –and told me– what Nikita meant to you.” J'onn's eyes went wise with realization. “The oath is invalid if you are staying here only out of obligation. Do you not see that?”

“For maybe the third time since I met you, I'm not understanding you.”

“We will always be brothers Jeremiah. You don't have to stay at my side for that. You said once that even your son was not enough for you to want to leave. I assumed there was no one ELSE out there who could pull you away. Please understand if you have someone in this life who needs you, I would never knowingly keep you from them. That is at least part of what 'brotherhood' means, isn't it?”

“I...cannot find the means by which to argue with you.” Jeremiah tried to stop himself from smiling. There was so much truth in his friends words. “I'm glad we think alike.”

“Come on, I'll fly you to National City. Just let's say goodbye to Sarrin first.”

It gives more weight to J'onn's feelings later when they meet Jeremiah in the present day: That Jeremiah was the first human who treated him as an equal, knowing who he really was. To J'onn, Jeremiah was an angel in an unlikely den of wolves. And he thought Jeremiah died that day. Turns out he was captured by Cadmus...along with Hank Henshaw.

Arias Guatemala only exists in one of my two sets of alternate Earth stories: the one on Earth-9. In it Jeremiah Danvers was brought here to live and to stay after the mission to terminate a particularly dangerous alien went the way it did. Jeremiah stayed with J'onn as kind of a willing captive. Exchanging himself for not only Hank Henshaw's life but his freedom. He asked J'onn to not only let Hank live but let him go. He's a captive in that he cannot escape but his life is otherwise perfectly normal. Basically he has every liberty except liberty himself. Elana and Martin Stein practically stumbled upon them, as Arias  4 years later and that in turn encouraged or spurned Jeremiah to visit the D.E.O and find some closure on how he feels about...anything. 

He tells J'onn he wants to see for himself if Nikita really is free to do what she wants and chooses to stand my Hank's side. Or is simply following orders, voicing a party line when she serves as Hank's lefftenant And they actually do use that word. He needs to check in on her and then he can find some closure and move on with his life. By this time Jeremiah and J'onn have become the best of friends. Jeremiah Danvers feels bound by an oath tying him to J'onn. "I promised I would never leave your side. From what I understood that was a til death do us part oath of loyalty, if not brotherhood."

Nikita drew herself to her full height. Which still was barely 5'10. She looked the prisoner in the eyes. Or rather just above them. “May Tex Kolar Daxam.”

“You honor me.” The woman replied, likewise drawing herself to her full height. “Even if you don't really mean it.”

“No I didn't. And if you were who you claimed to be you'd never have accepted it.”

“I don't understand.” Mon-El of Daxam said from a few feet to Nikita's left.

Nikita kept her attention squarely on the woman on the other side of the door. “You're not a Daxamite. Much less the queen of that planet. Who the hell are you?”

The human-looking woman and sea blue dress faded away to reveal an individual with thick muscles, rough skin, deep-set eyes and monstrous teeth.

“How did you know?” Mon-El asked his friend.

“I gave a Kryptonian slur against your people, standing straight as if it were some kind of salute and se responded as if it were her national anthem or something. She knows who your people are, but not how you feel about each-other.”

“You're smarter than I gave you credit for.” The woman begrudgingly admitted.

“I have to admit, while not intentionally cheating, I had an advantage.”

“If you were a telepath I would have known.”

“I am an empath. But that's not what I was referring to.”

“What are you Xavallen or something?” The prisoner snorted derisively.

“Yes, I am.” Nikita turned to her compatriot. “If Director Henshaw isn't already on the way down here, will you page him please?”

Hank Henshaw walked through the door a few moments later. “So who do we have here?”

“A White Martian. I have yet to ask her name.” Nikita professionally reported.

“A White Martian.” Mon-El echoed.

“How did you know?” Hank Henshaw asked his subordinate.

“You remember how I reacted to the Infernian in Brooks Square? White Martians are the other race of whom my physiology is so completely sensitive. It is something that is EXTRELELY UNIQUE to my people.” Nikita smiled wryly. “Also I've met one before. It doesn't feel quite the same as when I'm around an Infernian but it's pretty unmistakable.”

“And did he make you cry?” The Martian in the cell taunted.

“He took control of my mind and made me beat a four-legged farm animal to death. He restored my self-awareness just in time for me to see my hand end that creatures life. As an empath I felt every blow I gave that creature and THAT made me cry.”

Nikita addressed herself to the entire room. “My people are...well we tend to offer a loaf of bread sooner than we'd offer either an olive branch or a sword. We do not know how to fight, not compared to a lot of other races out there. We are pretty damn good at fighting with our words not our fists. Something people like Bre-vaak's and the planet of weapons manufacturers that is Thrombus consider a sign of weakness.”

“Your race is as pathetic as I always heard.”

“Is there something wrong with not wanting an eye for an eye to leave the whole world blind?” Nikita retorted. “More than any other race my people have learned not to answer a threat with another threat. Something by the way that human are no where near advanced enough to understand. The difference between my people and theirs is that they have more to overcome. And so they try harder than we ever had to.”

Hank and Mon-El looked at each-other. This was the most open-book Hank had heard her when not talking about Jeremiah Danvers. It was the most open Mon-El had heard her at all.

“I don't suppose you've ever bothered to learn another species language.” Nikita said, her gaze fixed on the White Martian. “But listen to this. Mian soreth, nolet forseth. Breq-torec noreth. Elesaar Mian. Estarra Forseth.” Nikita's eyebrows raised and her gaze lowered. “Thank you, for that.” She said in a wavering voice. She turned and walked away from the cell.

“Nikita, what just happened?”

“The, the words were of memory and remembrance. I was using them differently. It's usually more like a benediction for those who have passed than a 'remember remember the time of the fires'. Mon-El, what's today's date?”

“April 18^th.”

“Hank, you and I have a glass of whiskey to pour for each-other when evening falls. Some humans have a similar tradition.”

“I'll be there.” Hank answered. “Meantime I'd like you back in the control room.”

Mon-El followed Nikita to the central cortex. Nikita walked up the the main view screen and began typing into the controls, doing her best to ignore her compatriot.

“I use English accurately but without the conventions Americans have learned.” She offered. “I would not say 'a bottle of whiskey' unless I intended to drink the entire bottle with him. Which I don't. We will pour each-other a glass...to remember a friend of ours who is no longer with us.”

Whatever question Mon-El had on his lips died on his lips.

“I'll go see if Winn needs any help down in processing.”

Nikita smile faintly. Mon-El had been working at the D.E.O. as a volunteer for almost 2 years now and still referred to the computer lab as 'processing' or 'the processing center'. She had to admit given the processing power of computers as well as the inherent fact that the computers were a core component in keeping things proceeding, the name made as much sense as anything.

Everyone gave her space for the rest of her shift. Not because she was hostile or worked up but because she carried herself with sadness. It almost rested on her. Some who knew her, like Winn Schott perceived something incredibly personal must have happened recently. They were only half-right. The man who freed her from the D.E.O. and saved Henshaw's life had died 4 years and one day ago.

Nikita sat on her bed waiting for Hank Henshaw. Her thoughts were full of what memories she had of Jeremiah. It was part of her commemoration to honor the man's life on the anniversary of his death. Rather than simply 'a life lived, a life ended'. The problem was, she didn't have very many memories of the man. The most important memory she had of him was the last time she ever saw him. She heard a tap on the door frame. “Come in.”

Hank Henshaw quickly stepped inside. Nikita motioned for him to take a seat at the breakfast table by the wall. He did. “I can't believe it's been four years already.”

Nikita smiled as she poured two glasses of whiskey. “Not one for beating around the bush. You know I kind of admire you for that.”

“Occupational hazard I guess.”

“Hank, may I call you Hank?”

“When we're off duty yes.” The man replied

“Hank, something I've been wondering since I met this new you. Aside from disagreements about me, did the two of you get along? Or did he constantly fight your decisions?”

“We got along fine. He would often object, try to offer alternatives. But he would never really fight me. We were working together for a cause and left it at that. He never let anything compromise his dedication to his values. I admired him for that.”

“Did it get him into trouble? When he helped me escape. Did you... punish him.” She couldn't bring herself to say the words aloud but her face finished the question.

“I had to put in his file that he did not do everything possible to prevent your escape. I didn't say anything else about it. He acted according to his own convictions. I couldn't punish him for that. Like I said, I can respect a man who stands behind his true beliefs. Besides, he was right."

"Hank, I hope you know – he wouldn't have regretted it."

"How can you know that for sure?"

"You're amazed and in shock that he was as loyal to you and the D.E.O. as he was. It follows that he wouldn't have regretted honoring that loyalty. He thought you were worth it. He thought I deserved to be free and you deserved to live. It seems to me he died how he lived: With honor."