I do not own the DCEU.

"Well I know I had it all on the line,

But don't just sit with folded hands and become blind

'Cause even when there is no star in sight,

You'll always be my only guiding light."

—Guiding Light by Mumford and Sons

Amnesty Bay, 1999

Arthur had known the Young family for most of his life. His father was close friends with the younger couple, and so by default, he was often stuck with their daughter, Rose. Rose Jin Young seemed like an okay kid, and she seemed excited to have a friend. From what he knew, she didn't have many. She was a few years younger than him, but she was surprisingly not annoying for a twelve-year-old.

"Arthur!" Rose called as he walked down the beach from where she stood knee-deep in the waves. She waved wildly with one arm, her most prized possession tucked under her other arm. "Surf with me!" She lifted her board for emphasis. It was an old thing; faded from years of use. Arthur was pretty sure she had learned to surf before she learned to walk.

Huffing out a laugh, Arthur waded into the water until he stood next to her. "I think I'll pass on that, Ro," he said, chuckling tiredly. "I'll leave the professional surfing to you." He didn't tell her that he was tired from training with Vulko; he wasn't supposed to tell anyone about that.

Rose grinned. "Suit yourself," she shot back.

Still laughing, Arthur shoved Rose gently. "It's pretty late anyway," he commented, "what are you still doing out here?"

"I," Rose cleared her throat, glancing down at the water that lapped around their calves. "I think my parents are getting a divorce."

Arthur blinked. How did you respond to something like that? It wasn't like he had much experience—his own mother had been sent to her death before he had the chance to really meet her. It wasn't really the same thing.

"Oh—that sucks," he offered eventually. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Rose muttered. "Mom 'n' dad keep fighting, and it's getting worse every night. Mom finally started talking about a lawyer yesterday."

Arthur put a hand on her wetsuit-clad shoulder. "Hey," he told her, hoping he was doing it right. He had never been that good at that whole 'comforting' thing. "It'll be okay. You'll still be here, right?" Rose nodded slowly. "See, there you go! You've got that going for you. You'll still have the ocean. And me, of course."

A small smile flitted across Rose's face. "You promise?" She asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Cross my heart, and hope to die," he said, smirking. "I'd never lie to you, Ro."

If Arthur had known what would happen the next day, he would have told Rose to come to his home that night, that she should take a break from her parents and their arguing. That he hadn't seen her much, and they had catching up to do. Something. Anything. Because anything would have been better than what happened.

The next morning, on July tenth, 1999, Arthur found his father watching the news with rapt attention.

"G'morning" He said, cramming a piece of toast into his mouth. His father turned to him, a grave look on his face, and Arthur furrowed his brows. "What is it?"

Tom Curry glanced from his son to the television. "You... you might wanna sit down when you see this," he told him after a moment.

The pit of dread in Arthur's stomach grew deeper as he cautiously walked over to his dad, each step feeling heavier than the last. "Dad seriously, what's going o—" He stopped when he saw the picture on the television screen. The image of an all-too-familiar young girl stared back at him, grinning toothily.

"As of today, Rose Jin Young is missing," the woman on the news said. "If anybody has any information regarding her, we urge you to contact the authorities immediately."

Arthur felt as if his heart had plummeted to his feet. He scrambled over to the television, using the buttons to turn up the volume.

"Again," the news anchor said, a look of artificial grief on her face for a young girl she never even knew, "Young and his wife were found dead in their house, which was subsequently ransacked, and their daughter, Rose, has been declared missing. There is no suspect currently, so anyone who knows anything should contact the police as soon as they can." She continued, moving on to the next story, but Arthur couldn't hear her anymore. He could feel his face growing hot, and his eyes were becoming wet as they welled with tears. He refused to let them fall; if he did, he knew that Rose would tease him relentlessly about it.

God, Rose.

Arthur stumbled to the couch, sat down, and held his head in his hands. How did this happen? It couldn't be possible. There was no way. He talked to her just last night. There was a hand on his shoulder, and he could faintly hear his father talking to him. Finally, he could no longer hold his tears back the same way he could hold back the tide.

Gotham City, 2017

Arthur felt his heart drop to his stomach. After years of wondering what had happened to Rose, wondering if she was even still alive, he had found her. He had found her, but there was one problem.

"I don't know who you are."

He opened his mouth, but he shut it again. What could he say? He clenched his jaw, looking to the side.

Rose winced, as if she could tell how much this was hurting him. "I-it's not just you," she backpedaled. "It's everything."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, looking at her incredulously. "Everything?" He asked. How did someone just forget everything?

Opening her mouth, Rose began to speak again when—

"We are not enough!" Bruce shouted to everyone in the room. Arthur shot a quick glance back to Rose, who mouthed, I'll tell you later. He nodded gruffly. If he were being honest, he'd rather have this conversation right there and now, but he knew there were more pressing matters.

"Each of you of us in our own way has held back," Bruce continued, his voice calmer now, but holding the same gravity as before. "And I promise you, Steppenwolf is not out there talking about ethics. He's trying to burn down the world. The way we're gonna stop him is by using his power. This power," he jabbed a finger at the Mother Box, still resting idly on the table before them, "—against him."

"I agree," Victor commented. His arms were crossed as he looked from the box to Bruce. "I don't like the idea of reintegrating with the Mother Box, but I was running the numbers while you were being an asshole—" (Rose snorted, earning a glare from Bruce) "—and there's a high probability that we can bring him back."

"Right, right," Barry said quickly, "but we mean bring him back in, like, a 'Yay, he's back!' way, not a... Pet Cemetery scenario?"

Rose snorted again, pointing to Barry. "Yeah, I agree. I don't wanna be the Igor to your Frankenstein." She stepped forward, coming closer to the group. At the looks she received, she crossed her arms in defense. "What? I read." Arthur chuckled fondly from behind her. Same old Rose, even after all this time.

"You lose something when you die," he spoke up, following behind her, "even Superman. Maybe not his mind: maybe his soul." Rose looked up at him, her forehead wrinkling as she considered his words.

"I'll have a contingency plan for that," Bruce replied, nodding slightly.

"If he wakes up, and you're the first thing he sees, you'll need one," Diana told him as she walked past him, effectively ending the conversation.

Arthur turned back to Rose. "I think this is 'later,'" he said, crossing his arms. Sighing, Rose nodded, agreeing. She jerked her head to the side, silently signaling to walk away from the rest.

"All right," she murmured once they were far enough. "Are you sure you want to know everything?" She asked him, frowning.

"Yes," Arthur said shortly, and Rose felt taken back. Why would a man she'd known for less than a few hours be okay with her dumping her (partial) life story on her? Even if they knew each other before, he had to know that she wasn't the same Rose all those years ago. Hell, why was she even agreeing to tell him this? She'd never talked to anyone about it before. But... there was something that felt oddly welcoming with Arthur Curry. Maybe it was from knowing him before, maybe it was just a gut feeling, but Rose decided to trust it. After all, she had a similar feeling with Emily and Nathan Miller.

She swallowed, hugging herself. "Uh, well, the first day I remember is December eighth, 2005." She glanced down, eyeing her forearm. "Um, I-I was in an alley in Brooklyn, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and a patient band. "A couple found me and had, dunno, pity on me, I guess? Either way, they took me in and raised me like I was their kid. It was amazing..." She let her arms fall to her side as she trailed off, glancing back to Arthur. The man was alternating between looking her dead in the eyes and the floor, his jaw tight and his hands shoved into his coat pockets.

"It was amazing, but they were killed a few years after they took me in," she said lowly, glancing to the ceiling, trying to keep her eyes from growing moist.

"So," Arthur grumbled, clearing his throat, "how did you end up," he gestured to her, "like this?"

Rose smiled wryly. She rolled up her sleeve, holding up her forearm so Arthur could read the words forever marked there. He grabbed her arm, bringing it closer to his face.

"Project Cadmus?" He asked. "What's that?"

"I don't know," Rose told him, shaking her head. "And believe me, I've tried to find out for years. All I know is that they did something to me." She looked at Arthur, studying his face before holding out her hand.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"You know what. Gimme."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur handed over the small knife he had pocketed earlier. Rose took it, and immediately stabbed herself in the arm. Arthur reacted almost immediately, wrenching the knife from her hand.

"What the hell, Ro?!" He bellowed. "Why would you do th—how are you not bleeding?" He examined her arm all over, but he couldn't find any blood, nor any evidence that she had attempted to stab herself in the first place.

Rose furrowed her eyebrows at the nickname but decided to ignore it. "Whatever Cadmus was, they did something to me," she murmured. "I'm not the same person you knew, Arthur, I- I'm—"

"Rose, last time I saw you, you were twelve. I was, like fourteen," Arthur told her. "I knew that if I ever found you again, you'd have changed. I've changed, too."

Rose smiled at the man who claimed to know her, feeling like part of the weight resting on her shoulders had been lifted.

A/N

I know this is kind of just filler, but I've been pressed for time recently with school. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. The next one should be out soon!

Also, thanks so much to everyone who's shown their support thus far! Your follows, favorites, and kind words mean a lot!

Love,

Nell