I'm back! This is decitated to Dimitri Aidan, who said I should write more and Kuurosuki, who beta-ed this. :gives big hug: Thankyou!

I was going to post this sooner, but had panic attack about college and was delayed. I have...issues making important desicions and just thinking about college gives me shivers. See I'd gotten tons of these letters from different colleges saying "we'll send you blah blah and you should here b/c of blah blah." So I replied to ALL of them... sad, huh?

Cheers,
Saturn's Hikari

I'm assuming you all at least know Batman and Superman, but since this is a Justice League crossover...

This take place in that Justice League episode when Batman, GL and Wonderwoman chasethe mad scientist Chronos into the future where they meet Static, future Batman (Terry McGinnis from Batman: Beyond) and Warhawk (Rex, John's son). Chronos, since he's been taking things from the past into future Gotham, ends up screwing the timeline. He's stopped by past Batman and GL when he tries to go to the Beginning of time and those two are snapped back to the time right before they chased Chronos. They're the only ones that remember ever going through time.

So... yes. There's the background, on with the story...

Measure an Instant

Chronos hit the wall with a crack only to slump down to the floor. A dark purple hand holds him up by the neck and he struggles for air against the black man. Chronos' thinking only of breathing, but the other… he's angry- mad to the point that all lines that were ever set between hero and villain have disappeared.

"What happened?" he demands - the painful purple light flickering out of control, like endless sunspots. Even his eyes glow- behind the bright light he lives in hell. He tightens a bit with each word. "What did you do? Where's everyone?"

"Gone" David chokes, fumbling for his time belt. "Watch Tower; Everyone- on it- g-gone." He's almost gotten his belt, but Static would have none of it. He slams him harder into the crumbling wall and the belt slips further down his battered torso.

"My partner was up there." His eyes burn, glowing orbs and his face nothing but rage and pain. He's seen hell and it is worse than anyone could ever imagine. The hand tightened on the pale weak throat.

Chronos hacks and chokes, too weak to struggle.

"Too-bad." he whispers, no regret.

Static's other hand clenches as Chronos drops down, holding his bruised throat. Virgil stands there, not even trying to form the words. And then he screams.

Electricity races along his dark skin, ever moving streaks of light that wiggle and squirm, wanting to be free, wanting him to let go. His mess of dark deadlocks stand on end, and his cloak whips about as the strands grow. Enveloped in a globe of violent light, the scream goes on, full of such pain and loss. The sound of the breaking of the world, too much to be human.

Chronos fumbles, seeing his death before him as the glow increases and the air crackles with electricity.

The scream ends and for a moment Chronos doesn't dare breathe for fear of the power before him. Just as Chronos desperately presses his belt- it implodes and he's swallowed whole by the expl-

XXX

"…And that's why the Blarney Stone is one of Ireland's most revered artifacts. " Richie looked behind him and let out a breath as Virgil gave him a thumb's up from behind the poster board. Finally his presentation was over and he wouldn't have to be up in front of the entire until the next quarter.

"Good job, Mr. Foley," said Mr. Grist, putting his grade book down. That was a good sign. "I'm sure we all learned some interesting facts today. Didn't we class?"

Richie and Virgil shared a smile as their 7th grade class nodded. Virgil mouthed good job, before the teacher turned back to Richie.

"Why did you choose the Blarney stone, Richie? It's certainly a different topic to present on." Darn, he was still in the spotlight.

"Uh, um…" They wanted his opinion. Why? Richie start to sweat as the class waited for his answer. Out the corner of his eye he caught V mouthing encouragement. S'alright.

"My family's from Ireland and I just wondered about the heritage. Besides," he said, gaining confidence, "Blarney's such a cool word."

He nodded and let the two go back to their seats, before calling up Frieda to do her presentation on the feminist movement.

"Thanks, V," Richie whispered over to his friend, as Frieda got her note cards in order and put her poster on the chalkboard.

"No prob, bro. What are friends for?" he whispered back, pausing to grin widely at him. "And you did a good job. I smell an A."

They grinned at each as Frieda cleared her throat.

"My presentation is on the United States Woman's Suffrage. Susan B. Anthony was…"

XXX

"Richie! Come on man, you gotta answer me, Richie! Richie!" Virgil's panicked voice cackled and hissed in his ear. "Richie!"

He blinked and then groaned at the intense sunlight. "Am I in uniform?" he asked, his eyes slitted he looked down at himself, or rather along himself. "I am in uniform...but lying down. Static, why am I lying down?"

"Richie!" his friend screamed in his ear. "Where the hell are you?"

Richie blinked and automatically thought to Backpack. 1010010101100011... Location? There was no reply. Huh. Try again. 10100100111101... Connection?

"I'm Gear, V," he said absentmindedly, struggling to sit up. Backpack wasn't working. Everything hurt, but slowly he got himself sitting. The world lay out around him, an endless array of... sand?

"I can't reach Backpack."

Desert. He glanced up at the sun with shielded eyes and then at his short shadow. Assume Northern Hemisphere… 30 by 68, no, that's middle of Atlantic. Assume Southern Hemisphere... 65 by 78... Sahara?

"Richie, Backpack doesn- Gear! Just tell me where you are" Virgil seemed farther from panic, now he was more likely to scream and throttle him. Which was still kind of odd for Virgil- he was pretty mellow most of the time.

"Sahara. I think I'm in the Sahara."

"Alright." Virgil took a deep breath. "We're coming to get you. Any idea of where in the Sahara, I really don't want to search the entire desert."

"34 by 15, northern. "We"?"

"Me, Terry and Rex. We're taking the Bat plane so be on the look out, ok? Can you walk?"

"Yeah- wait Rex? You're taking Hawkie along? I know you like the kid, but why is he even with you? Unless there's something I don't know, he's John and Shayera's kid."

Virgil was silent and Richie knew then something wasn't right. "Virgil? Virgil, what's happened? Is John hurt? Shayera?"

When Virgil finally spoke it was in a whisper- hoarse and broken on the distance between them. "You don't remember."

"Remember?" Now he was panicking. Amnesia, why was he the one that always got amnesia? "What should I remember?"

"Everything- today, Richie, the Watch Tower was- anything? Do you remember anything?"

"Um... This morning John called, he needed us to baby sit tomorrow. Frieda stopped by, chatted, she wanted to redecorate, we're out of ice cream because you ate it... um... for lunch we had sushi from that place behind the- V! This is stupid, you were there!"

Silence.

"Richie that was yesterday."

XXX

"Damn."

Virgil slammed his fist into the gym locker and for a few seconds the pain didn't set in. "Owww," he winced, pulling it back. The guys all laughed, even some of the shy nerdy guys.

"Oh, yeah, that was smart," Richie quipped, as he shed his T-shirt and pulled his gym clothes out of his bag. "I mean, come on V, didn't you realize that would-"

He stopped, voice oddly loud in the sudden silence. No one was laughing and all twenty pairs of eyes were fixated on Richie.

"What!" he said nervously, "If some one farted, I swear I didn't do it!"

Not a single laugh, a single sound and David took a hesitant step towards him, eyes wide. "Richie... what happened... to you?"

Richie craned his neck, looked down at himself, trying to see what they saw, mind racing for something, anything to lighten the situation. Twenty pairs of eyes watching him, waiting on him…

All across the locker room, his eyes darted from one serious face to another, black, white, tan, black, black; they all blurred together faster and faster…

A heavy hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Virgil held out his T-shirt to him, his eyes unreadable.

"Me and Rich are gonna talk, ok?" he told the other guys and led him out of the locker room, to the bathroom, to lean against a graffitied wall.

Richie said the first thing that came to him mind. "Man, I feel like a chick."

V stared at him, and Richie could finally a read an emotion that surfaced in his eyes. Confusion. "I mean, they always flitter off to the bathroom to talk, you know and here we are…"

"I didn't know," Virgil said, hand tracing a Fck you on the stained wall. "I didn't know you were hurt. Hurt that bad."

"Bad? Bro, I'm fine; yesterday I was fine- it takes more than a couple buildings to stop me."

Virgil shook his head and stripped off his shirt too, then stood before the clouded mirror. He had some bruises on his front and a nasty cut on his back. It didn't look too serious.

"See," Richie said, happy his point was proven and suspecting it wasn't, "And you were banged up more than me."

V sighed, "You're not getting it, man," and pushed Richie in front of the mirror, too.

There was hardly an inch left of pale skin; like a giant punching bag, his torso was all angry-red and black and blue. Along his left side, a vibrant burn snaked down from his ribs. Above on the right, a jagged gash formed a rough circle. He looked beat. Bad.

"Oh, ma-n." Richie's hand wavered over his skin. It looked painful, was painful, but not enough to be any different than normal.

"V-" He spun to stare at his friend. V...

"Was this all from yesterday, Richie? All this from Puff and Hotstreak?" Virgil took a step toward him, questioning.

"It's- it's not as bad as it looks, V," he said. Believe me; please believe me. "I've had worse, man. We've had worse."

"Our first fight Gear-you didn't complain or moan, like I'd after mine. I know you got beat, bro, I just thought you wouldn't complain around me or maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. It was, wasn't it? But you, you've been hurt before, haven't you? That wasn't new. This wasn't new- just a different kind of beat."

"Virgil-"

"Why didn't you tell me, bro? Why- why does he- why?" Virgil slumped against the dirty wall and it was Richie's turn to stare in horror at his friend's defeat.

"Because. Because you'd do this, you'd want to help and- and you can't V. You can't help."

"Why not? Richie this isn't some Bang Baby. You're hurt, Rich, this is wrong."

Richie shook his head, blond wisps flying about. "It's my problem, Virg, not yours."

"Yeah, and you're doing a such great job handling it." He realized what he said and his mouth went wide as Richie backed away. "Shit- Richie. I didn't mean it, you know I didn't, bro…"

Richie ducked to avoid his hand and backed up to the door. "Just leave me alone, Hawkins."

The door slammed behind him with an echoing finality.

Virgil slammed his fist into the wall for the second time that day. "Shit."

XXX

"…Shit."

Richie collapses into his seat, and kicks the back of Terry's. "...the Watch Tower's really gone?"

"Yes," Terry says, all cold and Batman. "The entire station's destroyed. Supergirl's been up there deflecting the debris for the past hour."

Static leans over Rex between them, whispering as to not wake the kid. " Bruce sent her up. There are holes in the wall that go through the whole mansion and you know that forest behind it? It's gone. Ripped out the trees and flew them to Bangladesh."

Richie stares at him, the words going right through him. "It's gone?"

Terry's hands tighten on the controls, the metal starting to bend beneath his gauntlets. "Y-es."

"Everyone?" Static leans back to watch his blond friend, some sympathy in his eyes. He'd been near the same way, when they'd told him. But he'd blown up a couple trees- hard work, wood not being a conductor and all- until he'd finally realized. Richie would accept it. Somehow.

"Y-es." Terry's voice is full Bat now. Deep, threatening, 'you have until the count of one...' voice that he hadn't heard in a long time- since they'd first met.

"Superman and J'onn and Wondergirl, Star, Arrow-"

"Richie..." His friend stares at him, blue eyes wide, air coming in short breathes as he hyperventilates. He grasps his arm gently and Gear clings to him like a lifeline- still questioning.

"-John, Beast-Boy, Wonder Woman, Flash-"

"Yes!" Terry screams, turning around to face them, the rage and sorrow showing even through his mask. "Yes. They're all dead. Get the fuck over it."

It's Batman that turns back to the controls, as though nothing had happened. But his hands were shaking.

Richie was quiet when Virgil grins manically at the newly woken Rex, who frowns and nestles back to sleep. He doesn't say anything still when dark arms wrap around him- manliness be damned. But when he does speak, it's such a heartbroken sound that Virgil almost wishes he'd stayed silent.

"I designed it," he whispers, out to the dark beyond the craft. "I designed the Watchtower…"

In the pilot's seat, Terry stiffens.

"...my design, my making..." He turns sad eyes to his best friend, who hugs him all the more closer. So much pain, grief, guilt.

"V. I killed them."

OOO

Big Thanks to Kuurosuki for beta-ing!
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