Ok guys so here's chapter 3 of It Starte d Witn Curiosity. Also me and Ghost wish yoiu a Happy Easter! Me and Ghost don't own Young Justice, but we do own our ow n ocs.

Ok onto Chapter 3!

I would like to say that when Alexander started shaking avery's arms and screami ng at her I rushed forward and took care of the situation like a true blue batma n fangirl, but then I'd be lying like a dog. The truth is that as he continued t o scream bloody murder, I just kept stan ding there, mouth agape like a dead gisi lda fish. Alexander began screaming agai n: "No no no no no no no no! Do you have ANY idea what chaos you'd unleash if yo u actually did that?! Hack into dc natio n's database to find out how to write an d draw a cartoon?! Its bad enough I had to start this whole mess, worse if you t wo get thrown in to the fray! You think you can handle the truth, do you? Well a llow me to bring a certain subject to li ght: YOU. CAN' . !" He yelled at the top of his lungs, finally letting go of ave ry.

She stumbled backwords slightly, rubbing her arms where Alexander had grabbed th em. Turning to me she wispered: "What's with him? And why is he quoting movies?" I shrugged and whispered back: "I don't now. Maybe we dented his 80's chevolear and he's angry?" Suddenly we heard a sa d sigh and turned back to Alexander, who had taken a small picture of the small table by his bed and was now looking at it with a sad fondness, as if looking at a distant but happy memory. He began to speak with a voice that matched the loo k in his perfectly: "You now, I used to have a brother, just like you(avery: I'm a girl(Alexander ignores her compleatly ). And just like you we'd get in the mos t madcap adventures(sighs). At least we did untill that horribal first war came( looks up from picture and begins to look forlornly at us while opening one of th e drawers and pulls out some paper and a pencil and begins to draw, turning his attention to the paper, while starting t o talk again same sad tone as before) It wasn't the first war ever, of course, j ust the first of its particular catigory .

We were both 18 at the time, and needles s to say my brother Clarence or clark as I used to call him was drafted into the american army. And also, needless to sa y,he came back home. Not his body, just his heart. Just like so many other young men who lost there lives on the front l ines, defending there homes(he finished whatever he was drawing and picked up th e picture again, same look on his face a s before and his eyes lowered with and a very's eyes widenend as he continued). I don't remember much from that time, and its not my age thats to blame, its my m ind's fault for blocking out those horri bale times. What's worse? I barely remem ber what my brother, my BEST friend was like. But I remember these two things he loved: his fiance, Lois and his great l ove for the newspapers. Wanted to be a r eporter,but as said before, a draft kill ed his dream and a bullet to the heart k illed him. And I remember standing next to my brother's poor heartbroken Lois, I remembered something my brother said wh ile reading the funnies. He said to me: "Alex, I love these,funnies almost as mu ch my dear Lois, but couldn't it be just a little more serious? I'd rather see r oundhouse kicks than peanuts any day of the week" and that got me thinking. Why does my brother have to be dead to me, b ut never be known to the rest of the wor ld? Now, I'm a pretty good artist, and i 've also been comended for my story tell ing skills, so I decided to make a way f or people to remember my brother.

I drew clark as how he always was in my memory. Kind, strong, intelligent. And I drew my brothers birthmark a diamond wi th a s in the middle on the chest of his outfit. And I named it after my niece, Diana claire beaumont. And over the year s it became ridickulously popular. And I was content,untill a horribal decease c alled aids killed my wife(his gaze harde ned). I was so angry I did something I w ill forever regret. I wrote a avent in m y comic series called the crisses on inf inint earths. It was two days after I ha d issued the last part of that series, o ne of my characters appeared in my dream . I suppose you could call him a god. He said to me: You must end the chaos your mind has created. But I brushed it off as just a dream.

The next night I had a nightmare. I saw all the events that had happened during the crisses,but not as drawings. As REAL life. And then I realized: it was real. Millions of innocent people had died, e ntire worlds were destroyed becaouse of ME. So you see kids, what I'm trying to stress to you is all those shows and com ics are re -" He froze, eyes widening. H e coughed, blood flying out of his mouth . His eyes rolled back into his head as he fell back on the bed, dead. I stepped forward,my curiosity getting the best o f me. I removed the picture and the draw ing from his lifeless hands. The drawing depicted superman who looked exactly th e same as he did in his first comic, and the picture showed three people in earl y twentieth century clothes. A younger A lex, a pretty black haired woman, and a man who looked a lot like superman in ci vies.

End of Chapter 3

Author's Note: To Ghost

Ok what I meant last time was that like if i'm in this story or not. That was my question, but everything else, u did an other great chaper. Keep up the good wor k!