stands_for_hope | The Not Quite Justice League in... The Bee's Pleas!!!

"Seventy-something years," he says, quiet once again, "and I finally get my chance. I'm... it's no secret I've got a connection with the Earth. But something happened, an upsurge of energy. It broke through the shackles, let me get free, and I had to use-- I was still made of sand, but I managed to wrangle the energy to keep the city from shaking down around us.

"That's when I got to tell him that I was still me. That's when he realized--"

He shook his head and buried his face in Mike's shoulder for a moment, breathing low, in and out.

"...and practically... on the spot. So quick. So quick, he finds a solution to make me human again. So quick, so quick it was-- he forgot. He had to have. He fixed it so quickly after seventy fucking years--" and even he was amazed at the words that were coming out of him, foul language, those words about Wesley, his mentor.

"I couldn't even ask him. I couldn't ask him what'd taken him so long because he thought I'd been sleeping. He thought I'd been in stasis. I never got to ask him because it was keep it inside or break him, break my aunt-- they were both so old by then. I was terrified I'd give him a heart attack if I did, and they were so close, they loved each other-- she'd go right after."

He looked away.

"I left. I left, went off, watched... watched movies, television, traveled the world; I couldn't face him, couldn't face either of them. I could barely face my old friends, Wesley's friends, people who remembered me as Sandy the Golden Boy. Everything I'd lost and everything that was right there and all of it hurt; Wes and Aunt Dian, both of them so old, so frail, I couldn't even-- I couldn't bear to tell them.

"And then they died. I was off trying to figure out how the world worked and who I was now and Aunt Dian died, Wes died, and I couldn't-- they left me everything, everyone missed them, and I couldn't just... ruin it. I couldn't ruin their memory. So I couldn't tell anyone."

He sat up a little and looked at Mike.

"I've never told anyone. Until today. Until you."

Mike pulled Sandy into a tight hug, held him against him, anchored him. And he whispered, his voice rough, "You did what you had to. You cared for them. You loved them. You still do, so you... you kept a secret that would've broken them. I... I do the same thing every time I look at my father. Because he's a fucking ray of sunshine and if I told him the truth, he'd fracture, and I don't want anybody else to be broken like me."

A breath and he managed, after pulling back to look into Sandy's eyes, "I'm proud of you. So damn proud. Staying together through all that. And I'm glad he made it up to you, at least a little - at least a start. You... You are a hell of a person, Sanderson Hawkins, and I'm going to keep reminding you of that."

He looked up at Mike and kissed him, soft, sweet, quick before leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"If you're broken, then so am I," he said quietly. "So if I'm amazing, then so are you."

"Then... then let me tell you," he murmured. "I think I already told you I have brain damage. It's from something that's called a TBI. Traumatic Brain Injury. I've got scars - my hair's long enough to hide them. Barely. But they came from..."

It hit like a wave, like it always did - but it was a wave he knew too damned well, so he was able to close his eyes and let it wash over him. The voice, the hand, that strange feeling that still tied itself around the very core of who he was and pulled...

"I..." Mike shook his head slowly. "I volunteered for it."

Sandy's hand reached up behind his head and ran lightly through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck, nothing but care in his touch.

He didn't say anything, just nodded, listening, more than willing to listen.

"It's a long... Long-ass story." He tipped his head with Sandy's hand, using that touch, that feeling, to keep himself out of his memories. It was some kind of punishment, he was sure, that he was missing so much memory and the rest was too vivid.

"To make it short, my mom didn't want me. Intentionally raised me poor as dirt. I know why now, but it... doesn't really make up for it. I was bullied as a kid, so I learned to hit back instead of go whining to the teacher, and when I was eight, I was expelled, so Mom sent me to military school. When I was twelve, I stopped coming home for holidays and only came back in the summer because I had to."

His eyes traced Sandy's features while he talked, learning him, committing him to memory. Just in case.

"The only... bright spots, really, through all that, were my friend, and my crush, Sarah Graiman-" who was now his not-fiancee who hounded him "-and her father, Charles. Charles was a genius, and I don't mean just... saying that to be complimentary. He was seriously a genius, like Tony. Had a thousand little robots running around, could build anything anybody wanted. He was awesome. And by the time I graduated military school, he was working with the Army. So I went where he was, and he pulled me into this project. I..."

These were the memories that, in a way, hurt the worst. He slid his fingers into Sandy's hair to distract himself.

"I was still normal then. An angry kid, sure, but... normal. I loved Sarah. I loved Charles like he was my own dad. And I was a damn good soldier. I got into the Black Ops program without anybody so much as batting an eye. I was great at what I did. But then I met him."

His eyes squeezed shut.

"His name was Karr. Looked just like Kitt does now. My Kitt. Built specifically for the job - able to drive over anything, armoured against IEDs, all the tech you can imagine, and I loved him. I still remember that, anyway. I... was meant to merge with him." Mike swallowed. "And merging with him meant him stabbing two sets of three neural spikes into my brain through my skull. Those are the scars - three on each side, in kind of a triangle. I..."

Mike shook his head, now having to fight against the flashbacks, but he could, damn it. He could.

"I don't remember this part. I don't really remember meeting Karr, I don't remember most of the missions I went on with my unit. I don't remember proposing to Sarah, or hooking up with the Hispanic chick. I don't... remember Karr, really, except in flashes and moments and feelings. But I remember merging with him felt right. It felt good. And I remember..."

His voice choked for a moment. One moment. The memory of the emotion was that strong.

"I remember a US Army convoy, ripped to pieces and burning in the sand. Shreds of metal that used to be Hum-Vees and bodies with their blood just... pouring over the ground." Words started coming in a rush. "I remember looking over it and feeling like I'd won something, and Karr standing behind me, telling me that we had done what we'd needed to, and me agreeing, feeling so satisfied. And then... he's not there, and I'm screaming for him and fighting because I'm scared and angry and he's not there and he's supposed to be, he's supposed to protect me, and I'm being held down by six, eight guys, more faces than I know, and there's a needle being shoved into my neck and the syringe is full of this neon green syrupy stuff and then..." Shaking his head, he exhaled, this part of the story... slower. Easier. Less painful. More confusing. "Then I'm in Vegas. Getting off a bus outside the VA hospital. I got a job as a bouncer. Bought a house. Realised I couldn't feel anything... really nice anymore. Nothing made me happy or content. I didn't love anything anymore. I didn't even think about Sarah, or my mom. I just worked. Drank. Exhausted myself with sex and work because it was better than the nightmares I had when I didn't drop into bed worn out or drunk off my ass."

And then... Then his face was him again. That slightly cocky baseline that brushed off everything. Water off a duck's back. "My emotions still don't work right. To me, everything goes to either anger or lust. Or confusion - I'm really good at confusion. But my first reaction to something is always to either kill it or fuck it, and I go to confusion when something doesn't fit in one of those two things. The closest I've felt to happiness is..."

He shrugged. Brushed his fingers along Sandy's cheek. "Is when I'm with you or Kitt. That feels like I remember happiness being like."

Sandy listened... and his own anger built as Mike continued.

The first part was unfortunate but all too common; he'd had his own troubles once upon a time, and the death of his own father... there was a reason he'd attached himself to his Aunt Dian and Wesley Dodds.

As Mike kept going, though...

This Karr reminded him of nothing so much as Magog, a face he still remembered despite the years and the distance from the event. The god-like being had almost torn the JSA apart, and all of them were experienced superheroes who were no strangers to being manipulated, to having their hearts and minds toyed with. To face that kind of seductive, mind-altering creature on your own, alone, in need of someone, anyone, who would treat you like you deserved any kind of happiness--

He'd never forget those nights of blissful, nightmare-free slumber. But he'd never regret giving it up, not for what it'd almost cost them.

Sandy turned his head and kissed the hand that had been touching him before looking up at Mike.

"I guess, then, I'll just... have to keep on reminding you. What happiness is like."

"Mmh..." He gathered Sandy close again, curling around him just a little to murmur, "That's part of what amazes me about you. 'Cause... 'Cause Karr was locked up like you. Awake, but not able to tell anyone, but he ended up..."

Twisted. Warped. Willing to twist and warp anyone he came in contact with, and break them to be his, the way Mike had been.

"And you... You're so different."

"I was lucky. Wes made a mistake, but overall, he was a very good man," Sandy explained. He leaned into the embrace, happy to allow Mike to hold him.

"The people who made Karr were good people. I... just think that you were so different from Karr going in..." And here was the difference. He smiled, gave him a gentle squeeze. "Just proof, I guess, that I'll always get along better with silicon than with carbon."

"I wanted to be a hero from as soon as I was old enough to think about it," he admitted, leaning back against Mike, tipping his head up to smile at him. "I worked like a loon, exercising and boxing, learning all kinds of information so I could be helpful. I was... well, I was the first kid sidekick. And, for the longest time, the last."

He tipped his head to nuzzle a little against Mike.

"I guess I always wanted to make things better for people. It started that simple and... it's kind of stayed that simple, for me at least."

"Mm... And here, all I ever really wanted was to survive," he sighed, kissing the corner of Sandy's smile. "That's as far as my thoughts ever went. Survival."

And then, with a laugh, he shook his head. "That makes me sound so pathetic. Like I grew up in some war-torn country, afraid of bombs falling on my head..."

Sandy reached up and stroked his cheek with one hand.

"There's a lot of ways to make a home unsafe for a child," he said, running his thumb across Mike's cheekbone. "And unsafe is unsafe. The fact that you made it... I'm grateful. And proud."

"Worst part?" He laughed weakly. "Right when it was looking like she and I could actually... reconcile a little? Some guys shot her right in front of me."

Sandy slipped an arm against the bedding, up and around to hold Mike in return.

"I'm sorry. So very sorry."

Though there was a chance it could still be possible. He'd have to discuss the matter with Kent, see if he'd be willing to look into the spirit realm, see if Mike's mother was around and interested in seeing her son. Once he knew what was possible, he'd see how Mike felt about it, but it was best not to even mention it. Something to keep in mind.

But he shook his head. "It's okay. Mom... still remembered me like I was. She never knew me as I am now, and if she did, she... she wouldn't like it."

Nobody liked it. ...Except Kitt and Sandy. All the more reason to stay with them.

"If there's one thing I learned over the years, it's that no matter how you change or how odd you think you are, there's always someone out there you'll fit with. Sometimes, a few someones."

He leaned up against Mike.

"There's nothing wrong with family you choose."

"That's..." He smiled. "That's why I have Kitt. And you. And why I ... I want to reconcile with my father. I wished for him so much when I was little, and he's... Seriously, talk to him sometime. He's a ray of sunshine."

And the thought made him smile. Made him laugh. "I... He's too good."

"You're good too," Sandy said as he looked at Mike, met his eyes, meant every word.

"I'm sure we'll get to know each other, your father and I. I plan to stick around."

"Just wait 'til he starts asking your intentions toward me." Mike raised an eyebrow in Sandy's direction before breaking out in a smile. "There's a lot of him I like. It's... just kind of hard for me to believe anybody's going to stay."

The smile faltered. Fell. And he shrugged.

"That's why I aim to prove it," he said, and if there was any worry in his face, it was for Mike, not his doubts. For the pain they caused them, not that he had them. They were understandable. And Sandy wouldn't belittle them by trying to say the right thing.

He'd prove it. He'd live it.

Wes had told him to let himself be open, to let himself find happiness. Wes had told him when he had, he'd best not let go. He didn't intend to.

Like he'd said: Wes had been a pretty good mentor for the most part.

"I'm gonna show you into the Kitt-cave sometime. Four-story shaft, straight down, underneath a hangar. Should be easy for you to find." He grinned. "Especially since it's in an empty part of town. It'll be great, sneaking my boyfriend in."

A light squeeze to Sandy's waist and he teased, "It'll be like being a teenager again, only better."

"If it's underground, I can probably get there pretty easily. There's a reason I tend to do recon."

He leaned up for a kiss.

"If I didn't mind missing a minute with you, I'd say I should try and find it on my own. After all, I've got pretty good incentive."

"Mmmm..." Smiling, he leaned in and kissed him, slow and warm. "We might have to switch back and forth between the cars on the way out there. My dad's Kitt is actually faster than mine, but he gets bored easier."

"We'll figure it out," and he was content to start the kissing again. The kissing wasn't nearly as complicated.

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