Closest of Brothers

 (For not being them)

An updated version is forthcoming but this single moment needed recording.

After thier host treats Henry Allen's wounds and serves them a meal, without batting an eye at his eveident non-terestrial-ness, J'onn J'onzz challenges her openly.  If she knows what species he is, she can't be as human as she claimed. Eloise replies that she is genetically an alien but NOT a non-terestrial. Her parents came here before she was born. She was actually born within the borders of the United States. And that she never claimed to be human. Brining extra blankets and a sleeping bag out to the living room she invites her guests to get some sleep, then locks herself in her bedroom.

J'onn J'onzz: (uncertainly) Why do I feel like we just repaid kindness with betrayal?

Henry Allen: (sadly) Because that's exactly what we did.

Searching the Forest for a History

“He is a weird one for his kind.” Elana said in an undertone.

“You know his kind?” Martin said somewhat shocked.

“By reputation only. My mother was EnKaran, I learned as much about aliens as her people knew. And if I'm right about his race, he is a positive exception to his people....But I might not be right.”

“Alright, answer me this, what is it about being a freak that you somehow distinguish from being an alien. If racism and xenophobia don't enter into your concerns, or your reluctance to speak on the matter, where do they come from?”

“ 'Freak' is an inaccurate word. It's just the only word I know that conveys the appropriate sentiment of aversion. The aversion isn't to being an alien. That's not what's wrong with me. I'm a half-breed.”

“You sound like someone I once knew.” A voice said from the doorway. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. J'onn asked me to bring you something to eat.” The man stepped further into the room. A well-built man in his mid-forties with windswept black hair and a curious expression on his face.

“Jeremiah, is that you?” Elana said, holding her hand up to block the glare of the sun.

“Well, that explains why you talk like Sarrin.”

“My name is Elana now. It has been for three and a half years.”

“Obviously some serious stuff has happened since we met.” Jeremiah said wistfully.

The young woman held her hand out, palm down in a kind of wait-a-minute gesture. “Martin needs answers as badly as our host. He only recently learned I AM an alien. He doesn't know the history that goes with it. I intend to address with unrestrained, brutal honesty my time at the DEO and why I was released. Along with how ironic it is that the very thing that gave me my freedom and to be blunt, saves his life...isn't what either of them are thinking. Do I assume correctly your Martian friend is listening? This story is for his ears also.”

“He can hear you.” Jeremiah said simply, tapping the side of his head.

“Fair enough. But come closer Jeremiah, you too Martin. This will take some time.”

Martin Stein walked closer to the table, upon which Jeremiah had set two plates of fruit. “How can your alien blood save my life?” He asked simply.

“I have to go back to when Jeremiah and I met for that one. Which is where my story starts anyway. I met Jeremiah and a man named Hank Henshaw at the DEO...the Department of Extra-normal Operations. An organization established to protect Earth from alien threats and which detains hostile aliens. Of course they have to determine whether an alien is a threat, either as an individual or their race. In the cases of Gemm and Dregga, overtly aggressive individuals with super-think skin to match their thick skulls this is a simple matter. But I looked human, and refused to answer questions about my home-world. Which meant Hank had his work cut out for him. I refused to answer questions about my home-world because I was born in Salida Colorado 31 years ago. Director Henshaw wanted to know if my race simply looks this close to human or if I was using some facial holographic imaging system to look normal. I didn't answer, I couldn't talk about it. Henshaw misinterpreted my reluctance as refusal, and kept asking. Eventually I literally laughed in his face. I look as human as I do because genetically I am half-human. My mother was EnKaran. My father was born in Winchester Virginia. Once I told them this, Henshaw decided I didn't belong in his jurisdiction, or purview. I wasn't literally an alien, from the stars. And I wasn't hiding who I was by looking like this, I wasn't hiding or lying about anything. I was no obvious threat and would never decide to be...even if I was as imposing or physically capable as those others, I would never chose to hurt someone. I took an oath to this effect and was released from prison...essentially. It was...almost five years later that I met you Martin. And I could actually help you. If I was fully of my mother's people, we would not have been compatible.”

“Speaking of that...I apologize, I'm sure it's very personal but I must ask. From what I understand whatever it is you see as a mistake or flaw is letting you save his life...how is that?”

“Something happened to him three years before I met him. Think a wave of radiation and a very weak lightning bolt at the same time. It altered the normal molecular processes in his body. He is, reactive... excited in the scientific sense of the phrase. He needs a grounding mechanism to bond to in order to stabilize. I keep him stable. We merge, he stabilizes. We even share a somewhat local entanglement. My people aren't psychic but I share that kind of connection with him. Martin and I are, as Martians, Euphorians and Naltorians would say, attuned. When we merge, we are literally fused into one. We must merge every five days or so to keep him NOT turning into an unstable nuclear reaction. It's because of my human DNA I'm compatible with him. And because of my mixed heritage I take it with so little emotional weight or irrational resentment.”

“You were part of a 'mixed marriage'.” Jeremiah said thoughtfully. “I never knew that.”

“Well we couldn't exactly call each-other friends.” Elana said sardonically.

“I'd like to think we were friends.” Jeremiah replied, sounding slightly hurt.

“For my people friendship requires an equality and companionship that was impossible for us back then. As individuals, of course we liked each-other well enough and got along well enough for it. In our, understanding, our culture, my mother's culture I mean, the word 'friend' doesn't mean we get along or we like each-other. Co-pan-ion would be a better translation, a closer match. You and understood each other, but we couldn't talk as equals. The whole 'time and experience' thing.”

“You were an agent at the DEO?” Stein asked, suddenly far less comfortable with the man.

“Jeremiah Danvers, is a good man.” The deep voice of the Green Martian interjected. “And yes, he was. But that part of his life is gone. He's free to be who he chooses to be.”

"Wow, when you said he could hear me, you really meant it." Elana murmured.

Jeremiah smiled faintly and faced Martin Stein. “Hank Henshaw required me to serve under him. And I did, faithfully. I was a scientist who already knew about aliens, having someone like me working at the organization, under his observation made sense. For the most part, when he made a mistake he admitted it...as he demonstrated when he legally discharged Elana from our care, as though she was a mental patient with a clean bill of health. I mean that literally, we presented her documents to that effect, as a security measure in that publicly we don't exist. When Hank and I came looking for an 'extremely dangerous alien and found J'onn instead...”

“Why did you think I was so dangerous?” J'onn said mildly. Turning slightly to face Jeremiah more directly he continued. “I've actually never understood that. Henshaw spoke to me as a warrior, and somehow understood that I consider...that I would see you as a threat if not an enemy. The constraint and practical approach you showed, the manner in which you spoke defending him was that of a solider, or peace officer. Something I well understand. How did you know what to expect?”

“The same reason I now know you are a Green Martian.” Elana interjected. “You weren't tapping an earpiece earlier Jeremiah, you were tapping the side of your head. Your friend is a telepath. He can hear, because his psychic abilities allow him to 'listen in'. But you are obviously not Naltorian or Euphorian. Therefore, you are a Martian. Now I know I was wrong about you. My understanding of you, while not without basis, was mistaken. My fear of you was misplaced. I want to apologize.”

“How could you even know this?” J'onn said in bewilderment. “More to the point, why do you see it now, if you couldn't before?”

“If you had been as I took you for, you would never have tolerated Jeremiah by your side.” Elana replied. She looked down uncertainly and stepped closer to Martin Stein. Indicating J'onn she began. “The closest analogy I have is if Neander-tals and Kromaggen men evolved simultaneously instead of sequentially, and at least one of them hated the others guts. My mom taught me what she would have learned in primary school at home, that's how I know so much about other planets, other anatomy and how races so vastly different from each other tend to approach the world.”

“Makes sense.” Jeremiah muttered.

“I can now make a few assumptions of what happened when the two of you met. Director Henshaw led a team to apprehend and detain, if not eliminate a hostile alien, did he not? You were on that team but somehow convinced your enemy to show mercy. Henshaw went back to his world, that is to the life with which he was familiar, with a new understanding of aliens and a respect for ones enemies. That much at least is fact, established back home. He came prepared for a fight against a formidable and intractable opponent, did he not? Which is how he could earn J'onn's respect or J'onn his. You were enemies who understood each-other; both of you were warriors and spoke with the same understanding. I mean neither of you were civilians and both of you were strong, had a warrior mentality. It isn't hard to imagine that Henshaw would have had the same...understandable misunderstanding I did. It was a 'mere facts and basic knowledge' sort of thing.” She rubbed the side of her head and sat cross-legged where she had stood. “The databases at the DEO would have told you what a Martian was capable of, and that they were fierce warriors. But not that TWO races of Martians existed. I didn't know you were Deimos. I didn't know that was...possible anymore." Elana fell silent.

“To continue the metaphor,” Martin said uncertainly. “You knew Neanderthals and Kromaggen men both existed, but did not know how to tell them apart?”

“Even if I had...” She began sharply. “how he treated us would not tell me that. I was an alien and you were something more than human. Even Phobos would have asked questions first, would have been curious about us, would have tolerated us. Jeremiah is nothing but human. They treat humans as...most races are insects to them. If J'onn had been what I took him for, a pure-blooded human would sooner be in chains or on a dissection table than standing next to him free and at peace.”

“Is that true?” Jeremiah asked of the green skinned alien, who nodded solemnly.

“What she refers to as Phobos and Deimos are White and Green Martians. She names us for the two brothers whose rivalry and bloodshed was such that we divided, into what we are like now. Clearly she's never actually met either of us or knowing as she does that they would never chose to look like me...any sooner than I would take their skin...”

“Actually, I am responsible for her lack of insight on the subject.” Martin said reproachfully. “I only recently learned she was an alien and was, dejected and insanely frustrated. So much so I would have turned my back on her if I could. But I literally, biologically need her around. And I...hadn't heard any thing about the history we've been talking about. She needed me to understand...and was extremely preoccupied with that goal. And I owe you an apology Elana.” Martin knelt down to look his friend in the eyes. “I had no idea what you must have been though. You weren't hiding your heritage, you were hiding your trauma. Everything that happened because you were different. I had no right to be angry with you for keeping a secret. You literally saved a stranger's life, and continue to do so every day of your life. And yet you never say anything, or take any sort of credit for it. You ARE amazing. If more humans were like you...this world would be a happier place. ” Elana reached up and embraced her charge. The bonds of friendship were not broken, only deepened.

 I smiled, a little sadly. A thought occurred to me. “I hate to interrupt, but there's something I do not understand. something I've been wondering about since you, SARIN, first told me you're half-human.”

“Sarin was my name at birth.” She said, unprompted. “When my mom died I took her name as my own. It will be my name until I die. If I have a daughter I will name her one thing and she will take the name Sarin upon my death.”

“Matra-lineal?” Marin guessed.

“The same would be true of a husband who had a son. Each side of the family continues it's own linage and genealogy. If my father had a son, my brother would have a different name now; but not have received it until Henry had died. It's our custom and how we remember ourselves...where we come from. We do mean ANY of us. There is no 'maiden name' because neither side of the family takes precedence.”

 "From what you've told me your father was human. Though he must have died." I said patiently. 

“That's where the word and thought of being a freak comes in.” Elana said coldly. “That I am half-human, not other than human.”

“Your ire seems self-directed.” Martin observed.

“It is. I can't get around it. It freaking sucks. It doesn't usually bother me this much but it still sucks.”

I looked at Martin and he glanced back at me. Neither of us understood her. The question was which of us would ask for clarification.

“Forgive me for being dense but why is being a 'half-breed' less than normal?” I asked eventually.

“There are only a small number of species my people are allowed to join with. My mother was considered a rebel and anarchist anyway but was disavowed for lack of another word because she came here to find a mate. Sounds separatist and elitist right? She thought so. Her drive to challenge the preconceptions of our culture made breaking this particular practice, breaking away from our culture to pursue love on equal grounds the most natural thing in the world for her. She was already pregnant with me when she learned the truth. It had nothing to do with racism. Our genetic make-up, Enkaren genetic make-up is such that there are only a handful of species we can procreate with and produce a healthy child...or a child at all. It's a matter of the organs being in the wrong places and serving different functions than they 'should'. Contradictory building blocks and 'instructional data'. Often the offspring would die a horrible death by the age of 5. Human DNA is relatively compatible to ours. Either that or far more resilient than races in our 'neck of the woods'. " Elana ran her hand from her shoulder to her fingers, She tapped her knee and her collarbone and her rib cage, placed her palm flat over her heart and then around her throat, as if pressing on her windpipe. “With me, everything works. Nothing works well as it should. Enkarens have no issue with humans. I have would have no problem with being human. or even half-human unto itself. Being as Enkaren as I am, being  half-human hurts.”

“And yet if you were entirely Enkaren, we would have kept you in that cell.” I whispered.

“And your biological humanity allowed you to save my life...every day since we met.” Martin said regret and remorse filling his voice. Mixed if possible with a little self-disgust. “No wonder you didn't want to talk about this!”

"Jeremiah. Hank Henshaw is a much better man than you would have known. I can say that much with certainty."

I looked at her, genuinely surprised. "You've kept in contact all these years?"

"Well no, but Xavallens don't tend to lie without a damn good reason and I cannot think of a reason Nikita would have to back him up unless she actually agreed with him."

I am fairly certain my face went white.