Nikita Realizes a Truth

 Earth-9: Henry Shawn Danvers

“I figured we'd have to have this conversation eventually.” I said to Henshaw when he was at the threshold of my compartments.

“I take it you know why I'm here?” He replied in a voice as full of restraint as of regret.

“To get to the truth of something that hasn't left your sight since...well for a long time. Not 'clearing the air' as much as a 'just so we're clear' conversation. I'd like it if Mon-el were to stay. For someone besides us to know why the assumption makes sense and why it isn't reality, might help us both. But he's not required to. Mon-el, if you want to go, you should go.”

“I'm staying. If for no other reason than to learn where you stand on anything, I'm staying.”

“Why don't you hate me?” Henshaw stated point-blank.

“There are two and a half reasons why I should. One is that I made the decision a long time ago that I'd rather feel sorrow than anger and disappointment than regret. And this is back on Atridia. Every time I made a fist ready to punch something I would transform that anger into kind of a sad, quiet feeling. It got to the point people thought I was incapable of experiencing or even understanding the very normal emotions of anger or hatred. In an entire species of empaths, the inability to feel emotions made me seem 'damaged'. Really I just didn't see the point of holding a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone. I carried that conscious choice here. It's not an oath, it's a way of life and it is NOT easy. I've spent my life being not just a person of peace but of restraint, self awareness and impeccable composure and forbearance. I don't see that changing. Ironic because 'change' is the other part of this.”

“What do you mean?” Mon El asked me simply.

“My people have a religious teaching that when put to its essence says that a righteous man who turns to rebellion and sin should not count on his former righteous deeds to save him from judgment. But likewise a sinner who turns from his rebellious ways and does what is right should have no fear; for by no means would his former sinful deeds be counted against him.” I turned and looked at Henshaw. “Unlike most people here, I know what you used to be like. But I also know who you are now, today. And that is who I'm dealing with so that is who matters. It sounds kind of new age and twisted but I don't sense anything in you that even resembles what I sensed from you before. And in case you don't remember, I didn't hate you back then either. Strangely enough that's actually the 'half' reason.”

“Okay...I'm probably going to regret this but what's the full reason?”

"When you told me what happened in Peru, I could sense you weren't lying, but I could also sense you were absolutely right. It wasn't just the truth as you knew it, it was reality...Hank if Jeremiah thinks you're worth DYING for I'm pretty sure you're worth forgiving!”

“Why are you so intent on finding someone who for all you know will kill you for seeking him out?” Mon-El of Daxam asked me bluntly. I had to give him credit fort waiting as long as he did.

“Things have not been adding up for so long; maybe now they finally will.” He looked at me as if to say 'you're being too cryptic for your own good. “I've always thought Jeremiah broke me out of the DEO and 4 years later he came looking for me, to tell em of Jeremiah's death. If there were four years between Jeremiah breaking me out and Henshaw finding me again...why don't I have four years of memories during that time?”

“That is...a very good question.” Mon'el said reluctantly.

“I take it you see why we both, he and I REALLY want answers.”

“Why did I say that?” I asked no one in particular as I paced the floor of my compartments. “What the hell was I talking about and why was I SO sure of it?”

Hank Henshaw walked into my compartments with Mon'el close behind. “Okay can we back up and expound on this a little bit?”

“White Martians are shape-shifters and telepathic. Both kinds of Martians are, that's how they evolved.” I slowed myself down and looked the director in the eyes. “Martians are a single species, two races one species and they stick out like a sore thumb for empaths; unmistakable.”

“Is that what you meant by 'Phobos and Deimos'?” Mon'el asked me.

“They were two brothers, who's rivalry was responsible for the split in their race. I remember the time I met a white Martian. It is not something I would easily forget. He puppet-on-a-stringed me to beat up an herbivoric kid. I don't mean a vegetarian human I mean an animal with four legs, no canines with smooth horns and white fur. And for an empath that's a lot worse than it sounds. I felt every blow I gave that creature. He snapped me out of it just as I snapped its neck. I told that thing in their that I've met examples of both races. I've met a Green Martian as well as a White. I don't remember meeting any Martians except that thing I just described. What I'm wondering...and very nearly freaking out about is... How can I know I met someone and not remember meeting them?!”

Henshaw looked uncomfortable. “Forgive the obvious but, why is it so hard to believe you've met a Green Martian on your travels? It's as likely as meeting a White, isn't it?”

“It isn't. Whites are blatantly aggressive, egotistical, self-superior assholes who as far as I'm told exterminated the Greens over 300 years ago. But I can't help thinking it's possible. I could have met one right? I mean...I know you have.”

Hank looked like I'd knocked him to the floor with this realization. “J'onn J'onzz was a green skinned alien. And if he was a martian like I'd thought...it would answer a Hell of a lot of questions.”

“You mean HE will.” I said emphatically. “Hank if we're right about this, I was there that night. I can think of no other time meeting an alien would have warranted that alien wiping my memory. You certainly weren't in the habit of keeping me in the dark about the people we met. No matter how a mission went, you wouldn't ret-con me to make me forget it. Hank, will you let me go find him, J'onn J'onzz I mean...so I can find some answers. We both know you can't be part of the mission. He'd flip to the ninth dimension if he saw you.”

“I'm not too keen on letting you go alone. Even if this man should be on our side. I mean even if we don't have a problem with him...He might not see it that way.

“Then let me go.” Mon'el of Daxam said stoically. “I look human and I can obviously handle myself if I need to. It should make him, whoever he is pause long enough to talk to him. Hank I can protect her, and I want to be there for he. Please, let me go with...you.”

“Nice use of non-third-person. I agree. He would have spared me last time because he could tell I wasn't native Earthen...Which means I wasn't a star in the ashes exception for your race. If I have someone similarly non-terrestrial with me...it might actually help.”

“Any idea where to look?” Hank said in a voice that made it clear he would rather put me in quarantine until I sobered up...but knew better than talk me out of finding answers.

“I've been getting an image in my mind, on an almost subconscious level the last few days. It's a map of Guatemala. Well, more like a picture of the country. Nothing but the word Guatemala on it and what I can only assume is a tiny little won somewhere on it's Southern edge: Arias.”

'Alright, you two have a go on this mission. But Mon'el I already lost one good agent to this alien. Make sure I don't lose another.”

“If that was your way of charging me with her safety, I think it's kind of implied.”

“Why does this mission mean so much to you? Why is Hank SO troubled by where you're going?”

“Hank has encountered this particular alien before. He hasn't been able to make sense of that night. Apparently, I was there to see it...and never knew I'd met the Man. J'onn J'onzz is called 'the Martian Manhunter. Hank has as many unresolved feelings about it as I have questions. It was the night Jeremiah Danvers stood up like a mouse to a lion...and died saving his life.”

“That, is an extra-dose of a good reason.” Mon-el said reluctantly.

“She's not a Daxamite.” I told Mon'el Sternly.

“And how would you know.” He replied just as shortly.

“Because I just gave a kryptonian slur against your people and she responded as if it was her national anthem. She knows your language, but not how you feel about each-other.”

“...Good reason.” Mon'el said, relenting.

“You are a telepath then?” The woman said with steel in her words.

“An Em-path, yes. Thoughts aren't picked up on; emotions are. Your people have a unique frequency as far as that goes...Martian.” The illusion of a humanoid female melted away to reveal a muscular, bipedal alien with off-white skin and sharp eyes sunk deep in the head. between narrow pointed eyebrows and high, rigid cheekbones. Aggression and intrigue showed equally in the alien's face.

“You are far more clever than I gave you credit for.” It said coolly.

“Assuming for the moment you mean that personally rather than collectively. I have to ask, I am not required to but I feel compelled to ask if the whole 'Phobos and Deimos thing is accurate...Or even a real thing.”

“And how, pray tell did one such as you come to learn the distinction?”

“Earth humans are not specifically empathic, though some posses a natural tendency toward such sensitivities and perceptions. And they've been living alone in their corner of the galaxy for most of their sentient existence.” I smiled broadly at the creature's puzzled stare. “I'm Xavallen, from Atridia. It wouldn't surprise me if you don't know it; my home planet is 50 miles past nowhere. But it isn't just my non-terrestrial origins that show me this, or the fact that I can pick up on your aggression as if you're deliberately projecting it toward me. I've encountered your kinds before. The taste you guys leave in my 'mouth' is not something I would easily forget.”

“You've encountered us more than once and yet live and breathe? I might reevaluate your race. And yes, I have heard o your kind.” He straightened his back and recited as if in school. “ ' If it is possible, in as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men'...Pathetic.”

“Is there something wrong with not wanting the whole world to be blind and toothless?” I shot back at it. And you're wrong on at least one thing. I've only encountered someone like you once. Greens are...well you don't need me to tell you they're a different story. But Greens and Whites have one thing in common from an outsider's perspective...outsider empaths anyway: There is nothing even remotely like you within 500 light years of this place.”

“What exactly are green and white Martians?” Mon'el inquired.

“When I first knew Hank, he reminded me a lot of a White. What Hank's become, the sort of person he's grown into...would feel to me closer to a Green Martian or Xerilians. He would be their favorite new chew toy if they could get their hands on him.” I looked around as if I couldn't see who was in the room with me. I can tell that from the look on Mon'el's face when I withdrew from the room without asking permission or even taking my leave. When they caught up with me I was still out of sorts...and in no sense of the phrase composed.

Heroes and Heart Ache

 Nikita: J'onn, I have more reason to love Jeremiah Danvers and more reason to pity Hank Henshaw than you have to respect or fear either of them.

J'onn J'onzz: I hope one day you'll tell me more about him.

Nikita: If you don't mind a lot of gushing, I can do so now. But I'm worried your attitude toward Henshaw will be colored. I mean, if I didn't hate him, I don't think anyone should. But I know you have no reason to respect the man. I am pretty scared that you'll accuse me of 'softening his image'. Or something like that.

J'onn J'onzz: You don't think he was an asshole?!

Nikita: I think he was blind, driven, single-minded and didn't exactly use kid gloves on me. But I was an alien who refused to answer his questions, I was an illegal immigrant he didn't know how to make heads or tails of. And it was literally his job to expect to have to deal with the worst of us at any given moment. He was so consumed with duty he didn't see reality. But everything he did was to defend the planet he called his home from people he honestly saw as the enemy. I feel sad for him and I regret the result. But it was something beyond either of our controls. Considering I had absolutely no legal rights at the time, which means he could have done literally anything to me and never did anything for the express purpose of hurting me or making me miserable. Hell even I thought you were a threat at first!”

J'onn J'onzz: how do you mean?

Nikita: you're a little bit of a beast all the time. In your natural form it is glaringly obvious you are a formidable warrior and a powerful alien. Without my empathic powers I would have been scared stiff of you, literally held in place by my fear of you when we first met. And Hank knew you were a Martian. We all did. But the behavioral and chemical profile I gave him, what you were capable of and how you would use it was based on WHITE Martians. Armed only with that, is it really surprising he went in on full alert and ready to shoot anything that moved?

J'onn Jo'nzz: No...I guess not.

“Kara, I know we don't know each other well, I just want to say, I'm sorry about your father.”

“Okay, you're going to have to explain that one.” Kara Danvers said uncertainly.

“Jeremiah Danvers, he was your father wasn't he?”

“Yeah he is. Why are you using the past tense?”

“Yesterday Winn introduced me to a friend of his; a young blonde woman who's an alien in both senses of the word but you would not know it to look at her. She's lived either a very sheltered or a very restricted life the last 7 years. She spoke of a man named Jeremiah as the most patient, morally conscious and stubbornly good human she's ever met. A description that reminded me of you before I made the connection. She said this man was her only friend at the DEO, had joined under compulsion for the sake of his daughters. Winn apologized for the 'bad timing' of our visit as she was clearly missing an old friend of hers. When she called him Jeremiah Danvers Winn's face when slack from shock. She thinks your father died 4 years ago today.”

“Winn has some serious explaining to do.” Kara breathed. “And I am getting her out of there.”

“Kara, it's not like that. Nikita doesn't live at the DEO. She has a sublet or 'off site' apartment that IS entirely her own. Winn took me with him to see her just to see a friend. As it turned out he wanted to make sure that she liked me. Her opinion of people carries a-lot of weight. From what I understand her people are low-level empaths and can tell within 2 minutes if someone in the room is a good person. But you are right, she does need to see you...even if she doesn't make the connection right away.”

“This is the best news I've had all year. Jeremiah will be over the moon!” Kara paused at the look of confusion Lena gave. “When Jeremiah was there 'for the sake of his daughters' he was referring to my sister and I. Alex is my adopted sister, her parents, Jeremiah and Eliza took me in after my birth parents died...in a fire. Officially I suppose he would be considered dead. It's the only way he could be free from the DEO's influence, if they think he's passed on. From what little he's said since coming back, he lost a second adopted daughter to the DEO. The one regret he has for leaving them as he did, is not knowing what happened to her.”

“Then...maybe Jeremiah would like to know that...Jean is director now. Nikita says he is doing everything he can to live up to the example that your father set for him.”

“...This is all at once the single most messed up, and most beautiful thing I've ever heard!”.

Nikita: I never thought of it like this before. Always every-time I remember that day, I think of how much Joe was like Jeremiah in my life. Until now I never considered that if Joe hadn't met that one farmer outside of Smallville, he would have given me a VERY different report and advice on what humanity is like in the first place.
Elias Danvers: I do not understand.
Nikita: If I hadn't met the angel that is Jeremiah Danvers in the pit of demons that was the DEO, I would never have known there were Earth humans like him. The only other person like him I ever met was an alien himself. But Joe, Jor-el to use his native name, had a human like that in his brief time on Earth as well: The farmer Hiram Kent and his wife. If it wasn't for that man, we wouldn't have Superman in our ranks at all. Kal would never have been sent to a 'primitive planet' like earth if his father had not similarly met a star in the ashes exception to your people!

Note: She might not know it but she is talking to superman/Kal-el. Nikita is referring to Jor-el who called himself 'Joe' when he showed up in Smallville 40 years ago. This is actually STRIAGHT out of season 3 of the show Smallville. A scene in which Jor-el visited Earth as a young man, and while being wanted for murder, met a farmer Hiram Kent and his wife.

A 23 year old woman tells a US General why constantly harassing her and her guests is bad tactics:

"You ever hear the expression 'a man's castle is his home'. My home is a sanctuary of Peace as much as it is of life; I made Sure of that. If you continue to violate that sanctuary I guarantee you will be unpleasantly surprised at how thoroughly even a pacifist can KICK YOUR ASS."

General Elling leaves. She turns to the 'alien menace' she is 'harboring' in her house.

“That wasn't posturing you know, I was serious. I trust you a lot more than I trust him. He is breaking our laws coming into a private residence without permission, trying to search my home without probable cause, without a reason to think something illegal is going on. Even so, I know enough about you to trust you. You are a guest in my house and are my responsibility. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. And no one with a brain in their skull insults a friend of mine in my house."

Darhk, a guest in her house, has volunteered to stand and defend her when this creep shows up again

Elana Morris: When he comes back, you stay out of his way. If he attacks you, this creature won't hurt you, it will USE you and that won't be good for anyone, trust me.

Damien Darhk: Why what...specifically, will happen?

Elana Morris: It will suck worse than 'sitting court side for the thinker show when he hijacks your body' And given how bad THAT sounds!

Damian Darhk: You mean he won't torture me, he'll use me to torture you: his words out of my mouth. And that will be worse for you. (firm nod) Point made, advice headed...reluctantly.

Keeping a running record of Random ideas for stories.

Super-hero Earth Prime. Where Daredevil could meet Batman, the Flash could meet the X-men and no one would think anything of it.

LGBT-friendly Lord of the Rings.

Merlin and Gwaine reading Sasha's journal about all the places she and her sisters have been. Then asking her to tell them THOSE stories.

Batman and Robin an actual couple in Wayne Manor.

Earth-42 Wells comes back after 3 years and helps defeat the recurring rival Edward Clariss. For once not following Gideon's script, but because he needed closure and all but tripped over the Rouge-Captain's scheme.

Lenard Snart of Earth-27 is a good man with a problem. He needs AA type help. Martin Stien and Harrison Wells adopt Elana Morris. Obviously they can't have kids.

Earth-9: Elana is the other half of Firestorm. She convinces J'onn to visit the DEO. Says that Henshaw really has changed and that at least one of them need closure. In the standard cliché J'onn obviously doesn't think so. Jeremiah tells him what Henshaw is really like. “He did what he thought was necessary to protect civilians, all of Earth really from people he honestly believed were our enemies. I can't fault him for that. And if this is coming from the mouth of an alien, then you can believe it's at least possible.”

“What's the real reason you want to go?”

Jeremiah looked mildly shocked. “I can read your mind pretty well by now. It's almost natural to hear what's on the surface. You don't want to see him, at least not for any personal reason. And you believe without proof he has changed. Which means there's another reason you want to go back. What is it? Why are you so certain he has changed?”

“Nikita. She was a dear friend of mine. Well, she was a dear soul and an innocent one. For the first time in the six years I served under Henshaw I couldn't stand by and watch her get interrogated for information she didn't have, or for being a threat she didn't actually pose. I broke her out of the DEO. According to Firestorm over there, she's back at the DEO, but as an officer, an aide-de-camp to the man I thought had the thickest skull on the face of the planet. I need to see if it's true, if she believes he has changed or is simply following orders, and paying along. If she is with him willingly, without reserve, I will have all the...closure I need. I can say goodbye and finally move on with my life.”

“Jeremiah. You don't need to stay with me.” The human scientist started. “I'll miss you sure but I wouldn't keep you here against your will.”

“I swore I would stand with you J'onn. I swore never to leave your side. From what I understand that was a 'til death do us part' oath of loyalty...and Brotherhood.”

“The oath is invalid if you're staying here just out of obligation and duty, do you not see? We will always be brothers, Jeremiah. You don't have to live under my roof for that. If you have somewhere else to be, someone in this life who needs you, I would never knowingly keep you from them. That's part of what brotherhood means!”

Earth 27 is the setting of the DEO story I first wrote and put quite a bit of thought into. Nikita was an inmate at the DEO. She saw the best and worst of humanity side by side with each-other. Hank Henshaw and Jeremiah Danvers. Eventually she went from being an enemy alien to more an asset or a confidential informant. she is a pretty big expert in the field. Not only was she raised on another planet, her people weren't living in their own corner of the galaxy. So she had knowledge and reputations of a lot of species that we don't. What really helps though is that her people are low level empaths. What a person thinks is their own business and not something she could read if she wanted. What she does, sometimes without trying, is sense the essence of who they are; what they are feeling, what comes most naturally to them, their inclinations and intentions.

It's a 'do not mistake composure for ease' situation. Henshaw is a 'creechta'. Nikita's swear-word for an ignorant arrogant asshole who's blindness and aggression pour from him.

"I saw Nikita shortly after your last mission together. She actually stayed at my house for a couple of days. I would have been happy if she'd stayed longer but instead she willingly went back to the DEO with a man I thought was Director Henshaw. A few hours later I burst into the base focused only on prying her from the jaws of that shark-face. I was quite firmly told to cool my jets. Nikita herself vouched for the director's honor and integrity. We promptly flew to the roof to sort things out away from other eyes and ears. J'onn explained how he had stepped up and took the reins of the DEO. Nikita declared her intent to stay at the DEO as a permanent, free resident. It was both intoxicating and refreshing, if I'm to be honest.”
“You're telling me J'onn Jo'nzz is the director of the DEO and Nikita is his left-hand person. 

How can that...even be true?”
Superman decreased his velocity upon final approach. “You'll see Henshaw's face when we land.

 It will be J'onn to greet you. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
“...Green Martians are shape-shifters. J'onn is wearing Hank's face. When Henshaw died, J'onn assumed his identity in order to reform the DEO. Nikita helped keep his cover...without slipping too far into what people expected. Being the only person he could trust who knew what things had been like, her input was as invaluable to him as her loyalty and trust.” 
“Exactly that.” Superman replied, smiling softly.

 Around 3 pm in the afternoon Jeremiah Danvers rested comfortably in the arms of Superman. Clark was holding him loosely but firmly as they moved through the air toward DEO headquarters. “Are you alright?”

“I never thought I'd be back here again. I'm not sure what to expect.”

“There's nothing I could say that could sufficiently prepare you for this place, so I won't even try.” Kal replied. “If I'm going to help at all I should say that J'onn will probably be the first person you see and you will be welcomed here by him; he's director now.”

“Okay an alien in charge of the DEO when did that happen. More accurately: how?”

“Martians are shape-shifters...he looks human now.”

“That would explain it.”

They touched down on the balcony on the next to highest floor. They clearly were not expected. A young agent, the equivalent in experience to a Air Force lieutenant walked up with his hand on his gun. A dark haired, pale-faced young man standing beside him simply smiled and waved with his left hand. “Superman, good to see you again. Who's your friend?”

“Winn, find director J'onzz have him meet us in the conference room.”

“That won't be necessary.” Came the smooth calm voice that resonated from a man known to most as Director J'onn J'onzz. “I think I...” His gaze met that of Jeremiah Danvers. J'onn did not say anything more for several seconds; neither did anyone else.

“J'onn, is that you?” Jeremiah finally breathed.

“I think we need to go up to the conference room. We have A-Lot to talk about.”

Kal-el, J'onn J'onzz Nikita and Jeremiah Danvers all gathered in the situation room overlooking the main operations center of the building. For a moment no one said anything.

“Someone should say something before even Kal ages.” Nikita prompted.

“Jeremiah...I never thought I'd see you again...I thought you were dead.”

“Apparently you're a little too good at wearing his skin. I let people think I died...so Hank Henshaw wouldn't come after me. I have an apology to make you, Nikita...not sure how to start.”

“For believing I was dead? We're both guilty on that one.”

“For assuming you were better off believing I was dead. For assuming you were out there alone and wandering, better off than you would be with me...for never telling anyone you existed.”

“If you didn't know I was here why come back?” Understanding flickered across her face. “Clark overheard the two of us talking and brought you back here to clear things up. You didn't know where I was until today...and you thought Henshaw was still in charge of this place.”

“I have to admit I'm more than a little confused right now.” J'onn said blankly.

“No less than I am about all this.” Superman quipped.

“I experienced the best and worst of humanity for 11 months the first time I was here.” Nikita said automatically, almost mechanically. “Both of them were with me when I met you, J'onn in the mountains that day. I learned all I needed to know about you to trust you as soon as I saw you shake hands. I knew you were the one picking me up from Clark's house, because you weren't being an ignorant arrogant asshole and still recognized Jeremiah's name. I've never met anyone on Earth like Jeremiah before...no one else who was born here. And now that explanations and easily-remedied mistakes are cleared up, can we get to the actual reunion part? I also never thought I'd see you again...I never thought get a chance to talk with you both at the same time...we need to find a patio bar and a place that serves cuba libre's.”

“I'm sorry, what?” Kal-el said blankly.

J'onn J'onzz stepped up. “Kal, Jeremiah, Nikita and I saved each-other from Hank Henshaw. That's actually how any of us met, including you and her. Until now at least some of us thought the others died that night. THIS meeting of old friends deserves some alcohol.”

Warmth fo an Invisible Light

 “This explains a lot.” Balian mused. It was not meant as a joke, though Nassir smiled brightly.

Almaric, Balian's lefftenant, walked up to the pair. “What happens now?” He asked plainly.

Balian gave Nassir an appealing look. “It is beyond our control what happens between our peoples. We must wait and see. For our own parts...I think everything is at peace and pure.”

“Of that there can be no contest.” Balian replied with a broad grin. “And look, our kings have met in the middle while we have been talking. Perhaps we do not have long to wait.”

When King Baldwin rode away from the parley and back toward Kerak, Saladin rode his horse to meet with Nassir. The young man made a bow before the sultan, with one hand over his chest. Saladin dismounted and walked up to his officer, who seemed almost intimidated, as if he might be in trouble for something.

“One would expect greater losses from a battle such as this.” The sultan stated in Arabic. “I do not question the wisdom or the prudence of such a decision. I would be foolish to wish for bloodshed. Even so, I would know what stayed either of your swords?”

“Milord, I owe my freedom if not my life to this man. I have for some time. Once I realized the man I was fighting here was...” He paused his words and raised his left hand in front of his face. He twisted his wrist in a particular fashion and pointed to the cut on his cheek he had just received. “He was a stranger here. He is the lord of Ibelin and the son of Godfrey. I believe I was meant to meet him again. I am not sure he sees it, but I think he is truly his fathers son.” Nassir paused to take a breath and look at the faces around him. In a moment he spoke again. “Whether I owe him anything or not. I do not think I should leave him alone. If he'll have me, I would stay with him. Sire, milord the basic truth of the matter is that unless you forbid it, I would not leave his side.”

Almaric gasped. Balian, who did not understand Arabic did not understand why. Nassir turned to Balian and explained. “I offered a truce because I owed you my liberty. The peace today was brokered and maintained with so little cost of life because of your valor and virtue. Your sense of both mercy and justice shines brightly. I meant what I said. If my sultan permits it, and if you will have me, I will NOT leave your side.” He turned to face Saladin., and once more spoke in Arabic.“MiLord, do I have your permission to...follow where I feel I am led to go? I do not fully understand where I am being led, but my feet are set upon a path that I must follow.”

“You hardly need MY permission to do so. If he agrees, then Allah be with you both in this life you each have chosen.”

Balian looked both pleased and confused as Nassir turned to him and formally asked permission to 'not leave you side'. “I can honestly say, nothing would make me happier than to have a friend like you at my side Nassir. But...what does your name mean?”

“Appropriately enough it means 'champion' or 'supporter'. And I am honored to live up to it.”

“You are not a servant, but a friend....You know that right?”

“What is the matter?” Balian asked in a quiet voice.

“Almaric asked me how much I gave up to be here. He wanted to know what my life had been like among my people, as if what I lost was the measure of what I had gained. I don't see it as losing anything.

My life here with you has been sweeter and more...has been and is worth more to me than anything I gave up when I followed you here. God himself must have more of a reason to bring us together. I should not speak for God. I honestly didn't mean to. There is more we can do here together for our peoples and the peace Baldwin has maintained these past six years than we ever could have without each-other. But that is not the only reason, is it? If everything we think is about to happen actually does come to pass...I hope that will not be the final...I hope we may stay together even after this scene in the play of this world comes to a close. My life was richer just for knowing you better. I hope you feel the same way.”

“The friendship we have runs deeper than words or thoughts could express? I do. God might have put us together for some great good. I'm just glad I was able to know someone like you.”

“It is indeed a mysterious move of God that I...” Balian started to glare at me. “WE found someone so much like ourselves on the opposite sides of whatever line our peoples draw to divide ourselves. Which I suppose is part of the reason I feel so certain of this, and so hopeful.”

“Remind me to ask you what the story of your life has been like!” Balian exuded. I was surprised and for once I did not bother hiding it. “I knew you were an officer in the army, our equal of a knight. But I didn't know you were also this educated and gentle.”

“Sajiq, I consider the question asked. If you had to find out the truth when we spoke with Saladin, that would be a shame and an embarrassment I could not live with. I would be devastated if for one second you thought I was a liar. Saladin would be disappointed in me if I'd hid such a thing.”

“You said something like that before. I take it there was more to your statement than I knew?”

“Even knowing Guy's temperament and the inexperience of the king, my lord Saladin would need assurance that Guy was not sanctioned when he leads the charge against my people. That is where my testimony becomes both needful and perfectly sincere. Aside from the fact that such a moment is not fit for a revelation, you deserve to know this instant why it would make a difference.”

“I...I do not understand.”

I had known this moment was coming. I was certain he would accept me for what I was. I hoped he would forgive my concealing myself this far.. I was beginning to suspect Balian would understand and see my heart better than most, and would know where to look, what was important. I clasped his hands in mine and bowed my head over them. “I have not lied to you. I am called Nassir. It does mean champion or supporter. But it is a description, not my given name. Among my own people, without a disguise, I am Imad Al Din.”

“Does that mean...I cannot...” The shock on Balian's face was heartbreaking, but somehow seemed misplaced. “Does that mean Saladin is your father?”

“That name is a gift and a title. It means 'the righteousness of the faith'. Mine says I am as close to a true image of faith that can be found. As though if true faith could be seen through a looking glass, I am a close resemblance. And I am close to my lord Saladin, I suppose you might say close as family. But no, we are not related by blood.”

“Which is why he would trust you so. Now I'm a little muddled. Why did he let you go?”

“No, I'M a little muddled...why would he not?”

“It's not seen as abandoning your people, joining with us...with me?”

“Balian!” I told him, I couldn't help laughing. “As long as my duty to you does not break my oath of loyalty to my people, there is no conflict of interest. It does not by the way. Our kingdoms are at peace and the three of us want it to stay that way. Following where I believe I am led to go is not something my lord Saladin would ever dissuade me from. He knows you valor and honor for himself. It is in reflection of Godfrey's own persistence and character. Your father was a great man...”

“You knew him...?”

“Not well. But he was one of the few officers in the army of Jerusalem we could respect for more than just his skill with a weapon, or strategy. He held on to his own convictions and the ideals of peace without wavering. I could not know for sure when we came to Jerusalem, now that I have seen and experienced for myself your compassion and understanding, the very likeness of Godfrey of Ibelin I can say it: You are your father's son.”

“You lived here before?” Balian asked me bluntly. “You just admitted you were even a greater nobleman among your people than I thought of you.” He continued softly. “You must have met Baldwin himself earlier in your life. At least, that would explain your desire to stay out of everyone's way...And why you did not seem out of place earlier, but were not at all comfortable either.”

“I...I did not wish to be...declared I guess is the word. Apparently he remembered that of me.”

“Why are you here?” I asked the man as courteously as I could.

“How do you mean?” He responded with what might have been concern.

“I am certain you don't mean any harm. But I cannot stop thinking you are...something or someone else, than what you pretend to be.”

“You know I am a nobleman among my own people, and I am following where I feel I am being led to go. What else matters? I mean, why do I need to have any other purpose here?”

“Alright, let me be direct. Can I count on you to stand with us when the time comes, not just for Balian but for the sake of peace?”

“You may rest assured sir, most of my people want nothing but peace. From what I can see, the same can be said of yours. I always knew Guy DeLusigian would try to make war on my people. He wants to meet in battle who he sees as the enemies of God, eager for his own glory therein. I will do what I can to make sure that WAR as we know it does not come from this hostility and reckless hate.”

“I am sorry I ever doubted your intentions.”

“I hid who I really was.” He answered simply. “You needed to be sure I wasn't hiding anything else. Trust me, I understand. The only thing is...I need to be there...when MiLord Saladin (Sala-ho-deen) responds to this...to the aggression Guy has offered. That is why I stayed here after Kerak. I am...an in person witness to what I already believed. With such a witness and testimony, even the Mullah will be forced to accept that I speak the truth I've seen, not just my own belief .”

“Then we better get going. He approaches even now.” I told him with a faint smile.

Saladin stood in front of the young king of Jerusalem, his closest advisor just behind him. Sybilla, the queen mother of Jerusalem stood just behind her son. There were very few others in the great hall, just Balian of Ibelin, the Marshall Tiberias and 3 courtiers, to stand as witness for whatever might happen. A side door to the great hall opened and Imad walked in. He walked to stand aside from the others, as a mediator...then reconsidered and stood beside his friend.

“Salaam Ali-kum.” Baldwin the 5th stated formally.

“Alai-i-kum Salaam.” Saladin replied. “I have come to address the actions of Guy DeLusigian, the captain of the armies of Jerusalem, to learn if he truly speaks for his people and to bring peace, if not justice between our peoples.” The sultan stated, as though to the entire room. He turned to face Imad directly. “Will you speak for them? Have you the authority?”

“I have the experience to know what they would say, and have seen the truth of it with my own eyes. I have their trust and faith on such things. However, I do not believe I should speak as their representative. You must hear their words from their lips, or it will mean nothing.”

“Very well.” he turned to address the court again. “I have no intention of returning Guy to you. I only wish to know if his actions were sanctioned, or was he truly a renegade. I only need to hear it from Tiberias or the king himself, I will not doubt their words.”

“Guy used his authority to make war on the Muslims.” Tiberias stated in his gravelly, coarse voice. His intentions were his own. We will do what we must to ensure his actions die with him. We will make no attempt to rescue him from the consequences of his actions.”

Saladin looked up with surprise and a knowing smile. “He is a convenient answer then?” Tiberias looked confused. “You are willing to give him up for the sake of peace?”

“MiLord, if you did return him to us, we would execute him as a war criminal. While I am sure there are many in this kingdom who would agree with his ideals, no one in this court wants open war.”

“Can you confirm that?” Saladin asked of Imad, in Arabic. Who looked sideways to Balian, as if to ask permission to answer without reserve, in his native tongue. A request which was granted with a slight nod of his head and a look of pride.

“I can affirm that this warmonger we speak of was very nearly removed from office before Baldwin the Fifth even came to the throne. Balian of Ibelin was to be chosen for this role.” He passed his hand to indicate the man of whom he spoke. “And Balian is a man of justice and honor as well as courage and honesty. He would speak for all of them if he could. And if my life these last months has taught em anything, it is that we want nothing but understanding and communication between our peoples.” He blushed at his choice of words. “Balian and I, as well as the Marshall and the king of Jerusalem.”

The man made a few statements in Arabic. The words spread wildly throughout his army. Balian reckoned the instructions had been similar to the 'cease fire' order he had given his own troops. When both armies were still, Balian turned to face the other. “Which side has even won this day?”

The Saracen commander smiled, albeit faintly. “This day is not over. Milord Saladin (Sala-hodeen) is coming, as Baldwin approaches. Even so, as it is in my power or understanding, this field is yours. I have no resistance about that.”

“I honestly don't...” Balian began. His words died in his throat when the man put his arms straight out in front of him, palms facing upward. Recognition and near-joy washed over Balian's heart. He knew this man. Why he had failed to see it before didn't seem to matter, compared to meeting him again.

Almost as soon as he'd arrived in the desert, he'd been 'greeted' by a Saracen lord and his attendant. The lord had challenged him for possession of the horse he'd rescued from his shipwreck. Initially the man had charged Balian while remaining on his horse. On foot he'd barely stood a chance. It wasn't long into the 'skirmish' Balian declared himself the Baron of Ibelin and demanded a fair fight. After the claim was translated by his attendant, the lord obliged. A fair fight was not only deserved, it was expected. Balian won the skirmish easily. The blood from the final wound had gotten all over the servant's horse. An instant later the man was flat on his back in the sand. Walking up to him, Balian noticed he had a young, handsome face, and strangely showed no sign of distress, he only put his hands in front of himself, palms up.

“I understand.” Balian responded. “It's not needful, but I understand. Get up.” The stranger did.

It was only after he found a pack of dates and seeds, shoving several handfuls into his mouth, that Balian spoke again. “You have taken it very well I have killed your master.” The man didn't respond, only gave him a thoroughly perplexed look. “Why are you not upset?” Balian clarified.

“We are taught nothing happens to those who believe unless Allah has made it so. I have no reason to regret my master is now in paradise. Although I could wish he had not left so suddenly.”

“I believe I understand. We can't stay out here. Take me to Jerusalem? I don't know the way.”

“I will bring you.” The man said, easily.

“How long though? I mean the journey, how far are we away from Jerusalem?”

“We should be there by nightfall.” Came the instant, soft reply.

The assertion was perfect. It was almost dusk when they trotted their horses close to the walls of the Holy City. Balian had kept side by side with his companion riding this far, but pulled himself just barely ahead of the stranger as they drew close. It was a gesture the man apparently understood as he slowed his steed and lowered his head slightly. A palm tree stood not far from the David Gate. It was a good place to rest. Balian drank a gulp of water and offered it to the stranger; an offer the man politely declined. Balian had remounted his horse at trotted several paces to the gate before he realized he was traveling alone.

“What is the matter?” Balian asked, looking back with a concerned expression.

“If it's all-right, I'll put a cloak around my face.” Came the cryptic reply.

“That's fine. But that's not what I mean.” Balian said shortly.

“Please, let it wait until we are safe, and a good way inside.”

“...All-right.”

The city of children and soldiers that was Jerusalem sprawled out before them. After passing some pottery stalls and more than a few fruit and herb sellers, Balian stopped in front of a water trough. The stranger dismount and patted the neck of the steed he'd been riding. After rummaging around in his sack he found a carrot stub to offer the beast.

“...Either you hide your feelings masterfully or your people are not as passionate as we tend to believe.” Balian said. The stranger looked ready to smile. “I meant that to explain my last question. True I don't know much about life here but it IS strange to me...I don't even know your name?”

“I am called 'Nassir'.” the man answered simply. “What happens to me now?”

“I can't ask you to follow me. I am the baron of Ibelin. I'm also a stranger here. I don't know what following me would mean for you, at any rate I will not ask it of you. Will you be all-right on your own?”

The shock on Nassir's face was considerable. “I...yes. Your style makes sense now. Your fighting style I mean. It was unlike anything taught here. That last move in particular. I admit, I do not understand why...” His words failed him completely.

“Why I refuse to take you with me against your will as a slave, a prisoner or some such mess? In the village I'm from...I was not a slave but I had no other status. I will not use a title I'm not sure I earned to make anyone feel inferior. Go in peace...What was the name of the man I killed?”

“His name was Mummad-al-Fais.” Nassir answered easily, mounting his own horse, and smiling.

“Please believe me...I hope he is in paradise now.” Balian offered simply.

“Thank you for your kindness.” The man answered. He raised his hand, palm up, and rode off.

Multiversal History

I have FOUR Earths in my mental database. I will write the sketches and individual scenes here without numerical designations. I will match the scenes with each-other later. Most of them will probably end up being on Earth's 27 and 42. But Earth's 13 and 9 will show up a few times.

On Earth-9 a resident alien Nikita has lived on Earth for 8 decades, but looks like she's in her mid-30's. Superman stops into the DEO for the first time and stops in his tracks.
Superman: She's broken.

Henshaw: You don't know what she's been through, she's stronger than you think.
Superman: (Having x-ray visioned her) No I mean literally her bones aren't OLD they're BROKEN!
Henshaw: (looking like he's seen death) Dear GOD.

Harrison Wells was a physics professor whose theories helped establish and inform the organization and company of STAR labs. He is not directly a part of the team, or even an ally in their projects and struggles. But he is always around for academic and intellectual help. He keeps his private life private because of his relationship with a fellow theoretical physicist Martin Stien. On this Earth homosexual partnerships are legal but in the professional world must be kept on a low-flame so no 'egg' gets on anyone's public face. Martin's most attractive qualities are his compassion and patience. That he fiercely holds onto his own humanity and optimistic view of the human race is a constant inspiration-wellspring of hope for a formerly jaded Harrison Wells. Martin has adopted a daughter, Sarah Lance who is a bisexual...and flirting with Alex Danvers.
Joe West took much convincing that Barry was really up to this whole 'hero' thing. Watching the Flash convince Malcolm Merlyn to live for Tommy instead of riding the world of the threat from 'super powered meta-humans' was the 'come to Jesus' moment. In this world Thea was always known as Oliver's half-sister and Malcolm's daughter. Moria had one night only with Malcolm when Ollie was 10. She was raised as Oliver's sister to protect her from the 'dark spirals' Malcolm sometimes took. It was Moira's death at the hands of mirikuru criminals that almost pushed malcolm off the ledge the Flash talked him back from... without unmasking himself.
Jay Garrick, the Flash from Earth 17 breaches in to deal with Zoom. He pulls the speedster back through the vortex to his home earth where there is a particularly cold cell waiting for him. Absolute Zero slows a speedster down a literal frozen cell works fine. Jay stays around for a few weeks just to see what Central City on this Earth is like. But also how the colonies might have developed. On his Earth the 13 colonies stayed British, the Deep South stayed French and the United States consists of anything West of the Mississippi River. Except the actual pacific coast. California is a true wilderness because no one tried to settle past the Sierra Mountains. Tennessee/Kentucky/Ohio/Indiana/Illinois are a conglomerate and their own peaceful provinces. Their motto: People from everywhere come here and if you want to stay, you're welcome to.
Harrison Wells of Earth 9 is in a wheelchair. There is nothing wrong with his legs. A serum he was working on overtaxed his heart and he doesn't spend much time out of the wheelchair. Note: Earth 42 has no DEO yet. National City Earth-42 and not be a 'whole new earth' in the first place.
Wells was a physics professor whose theories helped establish and inform the organization and company of STAR labs. He is not directly a part of the team, or even an ally in their projects and struggles. But he is always around for academic and intellectual help. He keeps his private life private because of his relationship with a fellow theoretical physicist Martin Stien. On this Earth homosexual partnerships are legal but in the professional world must be kept on a low-flame so no 'egg' gets on anyone's public face. Martin's most attractive qualities are his compassion and patience. That he fiercely holds onto his own humanity and optimistic view of the human race is a constant inspiration and wellspring of hope for a formerly jaded Harrison Wells. Martin has adopted a daughter, Sarah Lance who is a bisexual...and in a flirtation with Alex Danvers.

Joe West died in a meta-human attack – probably from Zoom.
Joe West passed from pancreatic cancer after watching over Barry and Iris for 19 years.
Superman: He died saving your life. If you weren't hiding anything, like why you were both out there in the first place, why would you cover it up?”
Hank Henshaw's face turned ashen. He turned and stared at me, unsure why he had to explain what he was about to spell out. Turning back to the man who had basically spoken out his own backside Hank enunciated every word of his answer: Because he DIED saving my LIFE.

Hank Henshaw: The Martian Manhunter earned his name. For once I didn't have to convince Danvers...Jeremiah that this alien was a threat and a warrior. We led a five-man team into the Peruvian mountains. I still don't know what happened to Steel, Collins or Meyers. This thing fought like a warrior when we found it. We fought and I lost. He broke my leg so I couldn't run away. Jeremiah, defended me, verbally to this alien. Eventually physically fighting him...over me...I could not believe it. He died that night, right in front of me. And that is why I do what I do. That memory the knowledge of his sacrifice, and more importantly the COURAGE he carried with him, that I never noticed, changed my mind....and my heart along with it."
“Why don't you fight the DEO?” Mon'el will ask one day.
“Because it's still something we need. There are alien races out there as blind and aggressive as Elling himself; who wouldn't even understand the concept of selflessness. Seeing a Xyrillian wouldn't freak anyone out who wasn't predisposed to hate 'freaks'. You see a brevaak or a Crish-na-ka on the streets, and even some cops would be tempted to run the other way for the reckless wasteful uh, shall I say 'excitement' they would revel in. Arresting people like ME simply because I was the ultimate foreigner...the word alien literally means foreigner, it has only come to mean non-terrestrial because it's the strongest example of the same: the stars are the furthest ocean visitors can cross...is unique to the man in charge. Earthy still needs to be protected from... the sort of foreigners who scare foreigners like me.