Titans of Justice Chapter 32 – “Rediscovering Your Past”
Written by: Marcus Mebes/Power Guy
Edited by: Marcus Mebes

Baptist Hospital, Metropolis, U.S.A…

Laying, unproductive, in a hospital bed was not the heaven that Palomé had hoped it would be. Sure, he was happy to take advantage of it at first. The Titans of Justice had a medical plan that SOMEone paid a lot of money for. Likely there was a member or two who in their civilian life was probably very wealthy. His uncles Tim and Dick both were very generous to him and some of the other legacy kids, but no one really gave a valid answer whenever he asked where the money came from. Oh well. Enjoy it while you can!

But Palomé couldn’t enjoy it. His conscience would not let him. Here he was, sitting all comfortably in a hospital room that could and should be used for someone who really needed it. And he didn’t need it.

Pulling the tubes from his arm, Palomé pressed his fingertips onto the tiny punctures and held them tight until they sealed up on their own. He rubbed his hands slowly across his ribs and leg much slower, taking time to mend the broken bones and cartilage. Once he was certain that all the damage was taken care of, he changed back into his costume. Being flung into this timeline from a possible future, the young healer hadn’t had time to pack a suitcase. No, all he had were the clothes on his back. And the faint smell of body odor was beginning to be noticeable.

“Blech,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose as he pulled the cloak around his shoulders. Fastening the clasps to his bodysuit, he donned his father’s old combat boots. Those boots and that cloak were very precious to him. The cloak belonged to his mother, Raven; married as Rachel Roth-Driscoll. And the boots were from when Cody Driscoll, formerly the Titan Risk, had been sentenced to military service in the Middle East. It was an unusual sentence, but his father never complained about it. On that deployment Cody had found Jesus, and upon returning to the States, he went to seminary to become a pastor.

Snickering, Palomé thought: “I bet Green Lantern would enjoy talking with Dad.”

He was about to open the door of his room and depart, when it was opened by a nurse who came in to see why his monitors no longer registered his vitals. “Mister Pole… Pal…”

“Palomé,” corrected the healer with a smile.

“Er, yes… Palomé. I’m afraid you can’t leave without the doctor’s orders. You’ll have to… to…”

Palomé had placed his hand gently on her shoulder and blew into her ear. “Shhhh,” he whispered. The nurse blushed and smiled back at him, and stepped out of his way.

“On second thought,” mused Palomé aloud, “let’s do this together.” He reached back and grabbed her hand. “Take me to the worst!”

Smiling in bewilderment, the nurse led him down the hall to the elevator. They ascended two floors and stepped out into the hallway that led to the pediatric intensive care unit. As they walked down the hallway, the nurse began to hesitate. “I’m not sure about this…” she began pensively. “The doctors…”

Again, Palomé shushed her. “The doctors will still get to bill the insurance companies. Come on. Let’s take care of business.”

Nurse Sarah Turner opened the door of the first room, revealing a frail, sickly little girl sleeping inside a large plastic bubble on a sterile bed. Palomé closed the door with a soft click behind them, and together they took down the plastic curtains. “This’ll be cool,” he said, winking at the nervous woman. “Watch!”


Several Days Ago (the day the Titans West were pulled into the preset by the Stranger)

Gabriel’s Horn Restaurant and Lounge, New Orleans

Mal and Karen Duncan were not very upset. Their daughter Latavia had to spread her wings, and they encouraged that. Of course, New Orleans wasn’t the best place for a girl her age to go wandering about at night, but they trusted her, and knew that she had a smart head on her shoulders. But still, she was young, and a girl her age really ought to be home by now.

“What time is it?” asked Mal Duncan, speaking from a stoma in his throat. He couldn’t use his own voice, of course, because the sound waves he generated from his vocal chords would open a portal, or shatter the densest concrete.

Sighing heavily, Karen Duncan looked at her watch. It was caked with dried-on batter from the beignets that she had made earlier. “Should’ve taken it off,” she mumbled tersely. Louder, she added, “11:30. Where is that girl?” She reached into her apron pocket and retrieved her cell phone. Dialing her daughter’s number, she was disappointed to hear the call go immediately to voice mail. Sighing again, she replaced the phone in her pocket. “I’ll step outside. She’s probably on the other line.” Her brow wrinkled and she frowned in spite of herself.

Noticing her discomfort, Mal set his broom aside and brushed his hands on his apron. Pressing on the stoma, he said, “I’m headin’ out. That girl’s gonna get to learn one of life’s lessons tonight.”

“Don’t make her feel TOO bad,” Karen called after him as he strode into the front of the restaurant. She shook her head as her husband unlocked the door, stepped out, and locked it again. She tried calling Latavia again, but she could only get her voice mail.


Australia…

Sharon and Neville Garrett were beside themselves with worry.

“Aaron’s signal just disappeared!” wailed Sharon bitterly as they drove down the Coastal Highway. “How can that happen? HOW CAN THAT HAPPEN?!” She clutched her arms to her chest and bent over, staring at the floorboards of their minivan.

Neville Garret gritted his teeth and tried to remain calm. “I told you,” he spoke in a forced voice, “we will find Aaron. Just calm down. I’m already freaking out, and your hysterics are NOT helping.”

“Calm DOWN? Calm DOWN?? What do you mean? You expect me to calm down when my son is out there, somewhere, and we don’t know where he is? His signal is GONE Neville. That means Aaron is GONE. Why won’t he answer his phone? Why didn’t he come directly home from school? I knew there was something going on. I KNEW it. This morning, he refused to eat all his pancakes. He only ate three. And when I wiped his mouth for him, he pushed my hand away. He wouldn’t even let me comb his hair. And you SAW how messy his hair was. And he was wearing that tee shirt that has that horrible American video game character on it. He’s on drugs, Neville! He’s in a gang and he’s on drugs. When I was going to walk him to the bus stop, he wouldn’t let me! He told me to stay home! That I was embarrassing him!!”

“Maybe you WERE, Sharon,” hissed Neville as he signaled to exit the highway. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.

“WHAT?!” bellowed the woman, trembling in both fear and anger. She was about to blast her husband with another tirade, but he cut her off.

“Not another word, Sharon,” he said loudly and forcibly. “He’s old enough to walk himself to the bus stop. He’s old enough to wear what he wants. You do not have to baby him.”

“Yes, Yes I do, Neville,” retorted Sharon bitterly. “You see where he’s gotten himself. LOST. Or maybe kidnapped. And who’s fault is that?”

Neville was ready to say, “Yours!” but he bit his lip. Softening his tone, he breathed deeply, and replied, “We’ll find him Sharon. And when we do, let’s talk about letting our boy have some space. Okay?”

Sharon Garrett did not answer, but stared morosely out the window at their son’s school. No one was in the yard, and Aaron was nowhere to be seen.

“Okay?” he repeated, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Okay,” she agreed, wiping away her tears. “Just drive. Please. The park’s down the street on the left.”


Wales, England…

“Thank you, Mrs. Walker. We have his description and the photo.” The police officer placed the photo in his notepad and nodded politely to the stunningly lovely woman. “Er, Rhiannon,” he added, recalling that she had insisted that he call her by her first name.

“Evan didn’t mean what he said,” she apologized, looking up the staircase to where her husband had stormed off after belligerently talking down to the investigator. “It’s just that David hasn’t called us for two days now, and he knows he has to come home right after school.” She brushed a tear away from her eye.

“Yes, mum. And you think that he went looking for your sister…? What was her name?”

“Star Sapphire, actually,” said the woman ruefully.

The officer raised his eyebrows and looked questioningly at her. “Star Sapphire…?”

“She didn’t want him, so we raised him as our own son. David was always such a good boy, and we couldn’t bear to tell him who his mother really is. I’m afraid that…” She trailed off.

“That maybe he found out, and somehow got in touch with her?”

Mrs. Walker nodded, closing her eyes as the tears fell. “That’s impossible. She’s dead. She was killed by the Spectre. Can you find him?” she asked, finally, after clearing her throat. “Please?”


Crossroads Community Church, on the outskirts of the Pleasant Grove Trailer Park in Boulder, Colorado…

“Pastor Cody?” asked the little girl as her parents stepped out of the sanctuary to make dinner in the church kitchen. “Where’s Lukas?”

The blond-haired man closed his bible and smiled as he placed his hand on her head and mussed up her brown hair. She stared expectantly back at him, through thick-lensed glasses that made her eyes look huger than they really were. “I’m not really sure, Rebecca, but he’ll be okay. God will watch over him” He turned his eyes to a large wooden cross that stood in the corner of the sanctuary. It was rough and splintery, but the children had pinned little pictures of hearts and flowers to its base, along with photos of the youth group and family retreats. Lifting up the girl with his one arm, he hoisted her so he could look her in the eyes. “Let’s pray for him, okay?”

“Okay!” replied the girl, smiling genially. “Lord Father, please take care of Lukas and bring him home soon so he can sing more songs at church, and make silly faces at his dad when he’s not looking. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

“Silly faces?” questioned Pastor Driscoll, looking quizzically at the little girl. “What do you mean, silly faces?” He smiled, knowing full well that his son and the other children of the congregation liked to stick out their tongues at him when they thought he couldn’t see.


Manhattan, in the loft apartment on the 17th floor of the new Wayne Tower…

The phone rang only once before Toni Louise Monetti picked it up. “Cody!” she said, excitedly. “Cody, you’ll never believe it! I made the cover of BAZAAR! Yes! Harper’s BAZAAR! We had the photo shoot only last week, and I never thought it’d happen so quickly! And get this: you’ll never guess—”

“Toni, Toni, hold up,” came the voice on the other end of the call. “Save us ten copies. Gotta have ‘em. But please, I need you to come down, right away.”

“Right away?” echoed the white-skinned woman, brushing a lock of dark hair away from her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“Could be,” came the delayed response. After a pause, he added, “I haven’t seen Lukas since yesterday morning, and… well…”

“WHAT?” demanded the Titan formerly known as Argent. She rose several feet from the floor, supported by a wave of plasma-energy that she shot from her hand. “And you waited until TODAY to call me? Cody! What…? What…? Oh… You make me so mad! I can’t even cuss at you!”

“Heh, because I’m a pastor now?” laughed the voice nervously.

“Because you’re a pastor, yes!” replied the pearly white fashion model, grabbing a black coat as she headed for the porch of her apartment. “I’m hanging up now, you moron. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m heading out now.”

“Thanks Toni. I knew I could count on you.”

“Lukas is OUR boy, Cody. Ever since… that Black Orchid mess… well,” she fought a tear that fell from her eye. “I’m coming.” She hung up without even saying goodbye, and securely closed the porch door behind her before she set off into the brilliant midnight Manhattan skyline.


The Nether Dimension of Black Limbo…

“Where is that brat?”

The large woman dragged her taloned fingernails down her arms as she gnashed her teeth in anger. She stared around at the interior of the cave. The shackles were untouched. Nothing had opened them, and there was no blood where a child’s feet would have pulled forcibly out from them.

She stormed out of the cave and emerged at its entrance. The ground at her feet abruptly dropped off into space. Indeed, all around was empty space, with stars blinking in the distance in all directions. She turned and glared angrily at the floating chunk of rock, as if it was responsible for her captive’s escape. Her eyes surveyed the entire floating rock as she strode angrily around the small stone mound.



Narrowing her eyes, Dark Angel stared off into the dark nothingness. “I will find you, child,” she hissed. “And your parents won’t help you. They don’t even know you exist!”


Back in the present at Baptist Hospital…

“Was that stinky man an angel?” asked a little girl who had awoken from a coma after two weeks. She was being checked over by astonished doctors who marveled that the scars from the car accident were completely gone; and, in fact, all the internal injuries were completely healed. Not only had her brain swelling gone down to normal, but she had a full head of hair where previously it had been shaved off to allow the tubes to drain the excess fluid.

The pediatric ward was in a state of pandemonium. All the children that had been sleeping, or trying to sleep, were awake and dancing about their rooms and the hallways, excitedly hugging each other and the parents that had quickly arrived upon hearing from excited doctors and nurses.

Nurse Turner and Palomé could hear the racket as they quickly slunk down the stairwell, heading for the AIDS ward. Smirking happily, the healer looked upward, at what Nurse Turner thought was the direction of the pediatric ward.

“Thanks Dad,” he thought. Looking back at his partner in “crime”, Palomé asked, “If security doesn’t stop us, and if we can get there without anyone seeing us, I’d like to try to hit the ER after the AIDS ward.” He winked slyly at her, as he leaned wearily on her shoulder. “Think we can do it?”

“You look tired,” she said, a worried frown crossing her face. “CAN we make it?”

“As long as you help me out,” he added, smiling determinedly. The effort he was making cost him a lot of energy. He was exhausted, but determined to go on.


The Hall of Justice, Metropolis, U.S.A…

Celsius had succeeded in calming down Mal and Karen Duncan, Toni Monetti and Cody Driscoll, and the Walkers, but Sharon Garrett and her henpecked husband Neville were proving to be a challenge. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We’ll never get these idjits to settle down.” He glared at the Garretts. “Wacky Aussies,” he muttered under his breath.

“Please folks,” he began again for the nineteenth time. “Please. I’ve called you here because you need to know what happened to your kids.”

“WHERE is my son? Where is he?!” demanded Sharon Garrett at the top of her lungs. “You called us here, now give me my son! You have no right to keep a child from his mother!”

“So you can wipe his bum for him?” sneered Neville angrily, clutching his forehead with his fingers. He was fighting a migraine, but shared his wife’s concern for their son.

Celsius’ eyes passed from the Garretts to the Walkers, the Duncans, and finally to the unusual couple seated quietly at the meeting table. The fellow was one-armed, and had a neatly-trimmed goatee and wavy blond hair. He was quiet and calm. The woman had pure white skin, icy blue eyes and lips, black hair, and was dressed all in black. He stared intently at her, recognizing her face.

“I know you,” she spoke, returning his stare. “You’re… Colin? From the Calvin Klein Kia Ora campaign. Right? Out of Wellington, or was it Mount Olive?”

“Yeah,” answered the Titan, laughing nervously. “You were there, too, weren’t you?”

Argent smiled softly and nodded. “You’ve called us here because you told us that you know where our children are?”

Celsius coughed and looked about at the other parents. Remarkably, they had settled down, and were quietly waiting for his response. It seemed that the unusual couple’s demeanor had rubbed off on the rest of them.

“If any of you know anything about time travel, then… well… you know that if someone travels into the past, into a timeline where they exist as younger folks… then… I think it’s best if they tell you themselves,” he said, activating the communicator on his wrist. “Folks, come on in.”


The reunion lasted all night long. After spending a few hours at the Hall, the Garretts insisted on taking the Arachnid out to dinner, because, as Sharon insisted, “he wasn’t getting enough to eat.”



The Duncans proudly regailed their daughter, Bees-Sting, with stories of their time with the Titans. Mal’s mechanical voice was grating, but Bee-Sting insisted that it sounded like music to her ears. “Don’t worry,” she insisted. “I’ll come home as soon as things are straightened out on the west coast.”

“Titans West,” laughed Karen Duncan. She winked at her husband. “Apple don’t fall too far from the tree, does it?”

The Walkers, nervous at first, soon overcame their trepidation and invited Kid Comet to a late dinner at an all-night Denny’s that was located not too far from the Hall of Justice. American cuisine was very new to them, and they enjoyed it tremendously.

After reassuring Argent several times that he was fine, and just a bit tired, Palomé leaned his head on his father’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Pastor Driscoll reached his one arm around his son’s shoulder and held him close. Argent, too, leaned onto Cody’s other shoulder, and placed her arm around him.





“I told you everything’d be okay,” she mumbled as she joined her adopted son in dozing off.

Cody Driscoll smiled apologetically at Celsius, who had remained quiet through most of the meeting. “Thanks for taking care of my boy,” he said softly as he watched the other parents leave with their kids.

“Not a problem, mate,” replied the Titan in a low whisper. “Tuckered out, aren’t they?”

“He’s got a room here, at the Hall?” asked Pastor Driscoll. At Celsius’ nod, he shook Argent awake. “C’mon. Let’s take him to his room. He’s got a home here.”

Argent stared wearily at her old friend, frowning. “Fine,” she said softly as he raised herself from his shoulder. “But I’ll check in on him. Often.” She glared seriously at Celsius, who offered no objection.

The Hall was emptied of all the guests. The Duncan family, including Bee-Sting, had left. Latavia had agreed to accompany them back to New Orleans before returning to the west coast. The Wakers and Garretts had left with their sons. “No wonder Arachnid is so nervous,” laughed the Titan, noting how over-protective Sharon Garrett was. Celsius sighed as he watched Palomé’s family trudge him off to his room in another part of the headquarters. He stared around the room, then began pushing the chairs back under the meeting table. As he strode over to the light-switch, he took one last look the room. He was about to turn off the light when his vision caught a slight movement in the farthest, darkest corner. Narrowing his eyes, Celsius stared intently into the shadows. Again, movement.

“Who’s there?” he called out. The figure in the shadows froze, and Celsius instinctively flared up his hands. Instantly an ice block formed around one fist, and a fireball formed around the other. “I said, who’s there?”

The figure rose, and stepped out into the light. “It’s just me,” sighed a desponded Wonder Warrior. He folded his hands across his chest and stared gloomily off down the hall that Palomé and his parents had disappeared down. Muffled talking could be heard from his room. Celsius saw with certainty a look of jealousy on the young hero’s face.

“I was hoping,” began Wonder Warrior, “that my parents would show up.” He looked accusingly at Celsius. “I thought you were going to ask them to come…”

“I did, mate,” spoke the team leader a bit hesitantly. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically. “Troia said that she had to find Ion. She didn’t know if she could make it…”

“You mean, my mother and father,” corrected Wonder Warrior, perturbed that Celsius did not feel comfortable referring to Troia and Ion as his parents.

Celsius let out a deep breath. He did not know what to say. Wonder Warrior was obviously disappointed and disturbed. He felt he should have made a better effort to get Troia and Ion to come, but what could he do? If Ion was somewhere out in space, or even just in some other part of the globe, there was nothing he could do to expedite their arrival. But Troia DID say she would come.

“Ahem!”

Both Celsius and Wonder Warrior turned at the sound of the forced cough.

Scott Trevor, Wonder Man, had entered the meeting room. “You’re lying,” he said, addressing Wonder Warrior. He folded his hands across his chest and stared accusingly at the newcomer.

“What do you mean?” demanded the other, clenching his fists.

“Donna Troy is my aunt. I just asked her and she said neither she nor Ion have any idea who you are.”

“You just talked with her?” asked Celsius. “Did she call?”

“No, she’s here. They’re in the monitor room.”

“Mom! Dad!” shouted Wonder Warrior, running from the room. Wonder Man attempted to stop him, but the other hero dashed past him. Celsius joined him in following Wonder Warrior to the monitor room.

“What’s the racket?” asked the sleepy voice of Palomé, who had been roused by the shouting. He, his father, and Argent had come back down and were trailing after Wonder Man and Celsius.

But the sight that met their eyes was not in the monitor room, but rather in the hallway. Troia and Ion had witnessed Wonder Warrior’s outburst on the monitors, and had prepared for the confrontation. Troia had her hand pressed against Wonder Warrior’s chest, holding him against the wall as tears of confusion and pain coursed down his face.





“Mom, it’s me! Dad! Please tell her…” he pleaded, looking from one to the other.

Ion shook his head, looking at the stranger with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know you,” he said, penetrating Wonder Warrior’s eyes with his own. He turned his gaze toward Risk, Argent, Wonder Man, Celsius, and Palomé, and demanded of them, “Is this some sort of sick joke? What’s wrong with you people?” He looked sadly at Troia, who was trembling as she pushed Wonder Warrior away from her.

“My son is dead,” murmured Troia, shedding her own tears. “How dare you!”

“Mom! It’s me Christophe! You have to recognize me!” Wonder Warrior insisted.

“The only son I had was Robert and he died many years ago in a car accident!!!” snapped Troia. “I don’t know who you are or where you got those shackles from, but I have no idea who you are!”

Palomé stepped forward to defend his friend, “I’ve known Wonder Warrior for quite a while and he would not make-up a farce like this.”

“Stay out of this Palomé!” ordered Wonder Man as he rushed to his aunt’s side. “Aunt Donna, calm down,” he pleaded, noticing her ever-growing agitation. “Don’t let this phony upset you.” He then turned to Wonder Warrior. “LEAVE – NOW! You’re upsetting her.”

“But… but… I’m her son,” Wonder Warrior quietly insisted, clutching at the hand that was pressed against him.

Celsius approached the Wonder-family. “Wonder Warrior, Donna and Kyle don’t recognize you. In order to prevent this situation from turning any uglier than it already has, I think it’s best if you leave. I think you all need some space.”

“Fine…” grumbled Wonder Warrior, “but there’s something sinister going on.” He stopped struggling and Troia pulled her hand back.

She backed up, and stood behind Ion and Wonder Man. Seeing Argent, she hugged her old friend and held her tight. “Toni,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“The only thing sinister in here is YOU!” accused Wonder Man.

“One day you all will remember me…” vowed Wonder Warrior as he flew out of the building headed back towards Los Angeles.

“Not likely, loser,” muttered Wonder Man, watching him depart.

But one pair of eyes that watched the departing hero was not as certain. Palomé felt Wonder Warrior’s anguish, and felt his confusion. “Dad,” he whispered to Risk. “I don’t like this.”


Outside of the Hall…

The Stranger gazed upon Wonder Warrior as he streaked into the sky. “Something is not right here. There is a dark aura surrounding you, my friend. Those who you claim to be your relatives do not recognize you. Rest assured; I will uncover this secret…” He drew his cloak around himself and disappeared.