Morning Coffee

[first_lantern]

Alan looked forward to these Tuesday mornings. They alternated week to week, and tried different places. Always local coffee shops and diners, though...Sanddollars got enough of the market share.

The aftermath of the...event...had Alan in a familiar place. Deaged...again. Not his youngest, but younger than he had been. Young enough to feel vital again.

Even so...he hadn't been out in the costume recently. It didn't feel right. The Justice Society was...gone for a time...and his memories of his time in that team were scattered to the point where he couldn't lock down yet which of them to trust.

But some things...like friendship...transcends time shenanigans.

Comments

[first_lightning]

Jay had always worn his age well, perhaps the best of the original Justice Society at aging gracefully thanks to the energy of the Speed Force that infused his cells, like all who had borne the name of the Flash.

He also shared their penchant for ironic tardiness.

"Sorry I'm running a little late today, Alan. I've been trying to catch up with all the little changes out there.."

Jay has a folder tucked under his arm - news clippings, print-outs and the like.

[first_lantern]

"Nothing I'm not used to." Alan said with a grin, taking a swig of coffee. "Any new insights?"

[first_lightning]

He takes a seat opposite his old friend, letting the folder hit the table to punctuate the shrug he offers in reply.

"Not much, I'm afraid, but I do have a theory. I think things are still settling into this new timeline. I've seen two or three articles that I swear changed as I was looking at them. On the other hand, maybe I just need to get more sleep."

Jay grins, but there's definitely some fatigue there.

[first_lantern]

"You're not very far off." Alan said. "I have conflicting memories of Jennie-Lynn. She died...yet she didn't...yet she did. It's confusing..."

Alan sighs. "It's hard when you can't trust over 70 years of memories."

[first_lightning]

Jay nods somberly, but brightens almost immediately.

"On the other hand, this is encouraging."

He slides a print-out of a clipping from the Gotham Gazette, dated November 11th, 1940. The headline reads 'Mystery Men Gather at White House'.

"As long as that happened, we happened. That's from the day after FDR asked us to form the Justice Society, in the wake of the foiled assassination attempt."

[first_lantern]

'Now THAT I remember" Alan chuckles. "I also remember shipping off in the wake of Pearl Harbor for a short period before we came back together as the Justice Battalion, while everyone else stateside was in the All-Star Squadron."

Alan gets a pained look. "Do you remember that? I figure that if you and I aren't on the same page..."

[first_lightning]

"I do. I also remember Al being so excited, he nearly threw up in his mask."

Jay grins, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"And I remember Ted Grant's left hook in a sparring match that I didn't take seriously enough from the start. I always was a bit of a show-off.."

[first_lantern]

"Was?"

[first_lightning]

"Touché. Though I think I've matured over the last half-century, at the least."

[first_lantern]

"I've known some very mature showoffs. Hal, despite years of wisdom, is still very much a showoff."

Alan chuckles, then raises his cup. "Here's to our future. One of these days, we'll age gracefully...maybe that time, it'll stick!"

[first_lightning]

Jay returns the toast, with a smile.

"Life's a funny thing.."

[nabuhelm]

There's a crackle of light and energy in the air, an electric hiss that seems to emerge from everywhere and nowhere at once. Then, there are sparks of electricity, arcing in the air in impossible arcs, bending and dancing ... forming an ankh.

Jay Garrick. Alan Scott, pronounces a haunting, familiar voice. You are needed once again. You must reforge the circle.

[first_lantern]

Alan notes the fact that the other diners aren't running and screaming and figures out that only he and Jay can see this.

Alan continues as if he's telling an old war story to his dining partner. "Is this Nabu? Kent? Hector?"

[nabuhelm]

Hector Hall has faded to dreams, Alan Scott. Kent Nelson is lost. The mantel must pass to a new Fate, before ...

It's like the transmission cut out for a second. The helmet's aura dims like a light bulb.

I cannot see the successor. I only know he must be found, before others do. But to do that, you must reforge the circle ... make sure the next generation of heroes is ready to stand against the dark.

[first_lantern]

Alan nods. This isn't the first time they've had to find their friends.

"The world has changed...again...due to outside forces. Those we know are scattered to the winds. Can you give us an idea where to start?"

[nabuhelm]

I am ... prohibited. Something is shielding the successor. But ...

Alan and Jay are suddenly assaulted with imagery ... a young man of Middle Eastern descent. The boom of lightning and the crack of the word "Shazam." A flash of a blonde woman with a scream that can shatter steel ... two hawks screeching across the sky.

And then, two more images ... A disheveled blonde man in a suit, and a gray-haired man with white hair.

The laughing magician. The Ghost of the 20th Century. They will be your guides.

[first_lightning]

Energy crackles around Jay - his speed reflexively flaring up as he tries to take in every detail of these momentary visions.

"That's Dinah, I think. The magician.. a ghost?"

His brow furrows, mind racing at impossible speed.

[nabuhelm]

And then, another image, the disheveled blonde man on the ground, holding the Helm of Nabu as a man shrouded in shadows brings a knife down on him. The image is disrupted by a blinding flash of light.

The war has already begun. The heroes of yesterday must reforge the circle to save the future.

[first_lantern]

"Can you at least tell us the name of the man who currently has the helm? There seems to be an immediate danger there." Alan says.

[nabuhelm]

The Helm of Nabu is utterly expressionless, and yet still the frustration that it expresses with being muzzled is palpable.

I cannot. The magician must be found by your own actions. I have interfered too much, as it.

The image is starting to quaver, like a TV blinking out. The helm appears to be fighting to stay, but is losing the battle.

[first_lantern]

Alan is already leaving the diner, throwing enough cash on the table to make the bill plus a generous tip. It's not often that Alan's the first out the door when he's with Jay.

He glances back quickly to make sure Jay's with him before he walks out the door. Riddles and a new Dr. Fate.

No matter how much the world changes, it really doesn't.

[first_lightning]

"Where to, first? I could try and find any references to a laughing magician, or the 'Ghost of the 20th Century'. Unless you've got an idea in mind?"

[first_lantern]

"I think we need to start with the known rather than the unknown." Alan said. "We definitely need help with this, so lets start with what we know. I definitely saw Black Canary and the Hawks represented in that vision, as well as the lightning bolt of Shazam...but that could mean a couple of people. And where we don't know where everyone else is, I definitely know where Black Adam is right now."

He looks at Jay. "Despite his definition of justice, he respects you, Jay, and you're the best suited to get in and out of Kahndaq without setting off an international incident. Meanwhile, I'll get in touch with the League and see if I can find any trace of Dinah or the Hawks."

[first_lightning]

Jay nods in agreement.

"Adam is not exactly low profile. And we can only hope he remembers us as much as we remember him. I'll give it a try."

There's a slight rush of wind, and he's in costume, ready to go.

"Wish me luck."

[first_lantern]

A green glow surrounds Alan as the familiar, classic green and red envelops his body.

"Always." Alan replied. "Stay in touch".

And with a blink, he was airborne.