It only took Five hours for Earth to temporarily lose Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Flash, Cyborg and Green Arrow. Laura's explanations made it sound like she would need the entire League, but doing with seven members would be just barely enough. Laura made sure they'd all know that the Clark from her world was not a good person. Talking about how he has killed members of the Justice League before, and would do it again if he saw fit.

And as those hero's left, albeit, it wouldn't be a permanent leave. New hero's would come up in the time they're gone. Some younger, some older, some not going out in capes and masks, but behind computers or paperwork. While others would do what they could.

It hasn't happened yet. But it will.

It's only been three hours into the five. All the while Laura is being checked out, having all of her claims backed up. Physical proof along with a blood test to prove that she is infact, who she says she is. A blood relative of John Constantine, his daughter. Even speaking to him privately and telling him things that nobody else would know. Things like the existence of Adam Constantine, how his parents died, his sister Cheryl, how old he was when he first started taking part in magic, how his father treated him, and last but obviously not least?

She told him all about Astra Logue.

Every little detail about her abusers, the things she was forced to partake in. How she was in so much pain, and how she retaliated against them. Doing something that even John couldn't have done at the age of eight, summoning a demon. Unfortunately, she also went into detail explaining how all that went down. How she failed to tether the demon to anything, and when the time for arrogant John to come and deal with the problem, he accidentally tethered the demon to her.

She told him all about how she's still in hell to this day, though the incident happened over sixteen years ago. Explaining to him what happens to children in hell, and how they're treated differently. Explaining all the little details that make John know that she's his flesh and blood. Because nobody else could explain something so grotesquely disturbing and distressing so normally as a Constantine would.

Laura is forcing herself to focus on one problem at a time. But it's hard to do that with a police radio scanner in the cave that spits out information on everything every two seconds.

There is one thing she hears, the second John Constantine steps into the cave.

"-Still no signs of any forced entry at the (L/n) residence. Clothes are still in the bedroom dressers, no food looks misplaced or stolen. Everything looks completely clean, there was no hassle. The bedroom window was open, and the front door was unlocked. Nobody came in. Police are leaving the area to stretch over the span of Gotham to find (Y/n)." It's Jim Gordon, dispatching his police to search all over Gotham.

Laura's eyes widen, not just to the sight of her father. Who she last saw lying in a puddle of his own blood before ripping his coat off of his dead, and cold corpse.

Everything is in slow motion for her. The steps her father takes that are getting closer to her, the people on the radio talking about your case, how there's nobody at the (L/n) residence right now. You're missing, and who knows where. John has made so many enemies, it only does so much more than frighten Laura if someone with one of those grudges found you. You, someone who's probably never done anything wrong while you were in your own right of mind. If you're anything like the (Y/n) Laura knew, she knows that you are not going to deserve anything that happens to you if all of what the police are saying is true.

But watching John come closer, her widening eyes start watering.

She knows she spoke to him not that long ago, but everytime she see's him it's like a sudden reminder that; Oh yes, both of my parents are dead. And I'm partially responsible for my dad dying.

Keeping her dull and tired blue eyes locked onto him. In the midst of the ongoing war back on her own earth, she was forcing so many things down. That she never really got the time to actually accept her own problems. She never got the time to grieve her father, never got the proper time to cope with your death, she just stripped it all away from herself and wore it so she couldn't feel it. Couldn't feel it burning inside of her, but wearing it so others would think she's fine with any circumstances that involve those situations.

"(Y/n) wouldn't have just run away, I don't know her as well as Damian does but I saw her every time I went to the coffee shop. It's probably one of the quietest places in Gotham. She always finds time to talk to everybody- she wouldn't have just run away." Laura turns her head away from her father, though she knows that on this earth? He's not her father. He just looks like him, and shares most of the same memories. But none of them with her.

Looking over at a boy in a black domino mask, and long black hair. Just to his shoulders, and his domino mask goes past his eyes, and spreads down to the sides of his ears. Must be an earpiece in there. Laura thinks, eyeing the rest of his uniform. Laura remembers the Tim Drake on her earth. He hung out around you a lot. Not as much as she saw you with Damian, but it was enough for Laura to take notice on it and wish she had seen you around Tim more than she had seen you around Damian. Tim was always considerate, and Laura can say in her personal opinion that he's probably the smartest out of any of the Robin's. Not that the other Robin's weren't smart, it's just Tim wasn't as strong in terms of physical peak as the others were. Not saying that Tim wasn't strong, either. Laura's seen Tim on patrol several times. He's not weak. One difference here? She's glad he lost the earless cowl, in all honesty it looked like a condom.

"You know her?" Laura asked, raising a thin blonde eyebrow that had been filled in with brown liner. Smudging on the ends, apparently it's not waterproof and she's just been so stressed with everything.

"Sorta. You look like-" He starts pacing away from the rest of everyone in the cave, until he's at his cape and goes to latch it into the spaces over his shoulders.
"John? Yeah, I get that a lot. (Y/n) didn't get the perfect cheekbones, shame." Mentioning how You look so much more like your mom rather than your dad. Laura? She's just a carbon copy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin. But you, you have your mother's perfect (h/c) hair, the deep (e/c) eyes and her soft (s/c) skin that for some reason? Never seemed to break out in acne like Laura's did. Fair trade, right? High cheekbones for never getting acne? Laura doesn't know if she'd trade in her Angelina Jolie cheekbones just yet, though.

"I'm goin' to her house. The police are used to looking for physical evidence. Maybe I can find something they can't." It's John, taking Laura's eyes once again off of Tim and onto her father.

"Is Nicholas Necro still alive on this earth? You'd do good starting there. I can think of other names, try Papa Midnight. Maybe it was Manny. The Brujeria is always-"

"Manny wouldn't hurt my daughter." John is muttering his words through his teeth, coming closer to Laura and glaring at her while a vein is visible on his neck. Hair a mess, jacket not on. His red tie is looser than it usually is. His once white button up collar shirt is covered in blood and dirt, one Laura can assume is his own blood.

"But the Brujeria would. I don't know about your Manny, but he's been manipulating the John of my earth the moment he met him. He's a dick from the clouds, man. Don't trust anything Manny has to say." Laura snarled back, shoving herself forwards but her restraints are keeping her back.

"I can name you a long list of people who'd want to do more than just kill (Y/n) because of your god awful decisions. Such as sending her to an assassin to keep her safe. How the bloody hell did you think that'd end?!" She yelled, lunging forwards in the chair, but again being handcuffed to the edge of the chair is the only thing keeping her still.

At this point, there no other noises in the cave. Just Laura's speaking. Everyone has averted their attention to her, Bruce even stops getting ready to go pick up Damian from their rendezvous point to listen to her.

"Not just any assassin, though oh no! You had to go to the one that gave you the damned book of magic. Do you know what those books do to people on my world?! They drive you mad. Completely mad! I know!" She goes silent for a moment, dropping her head between her shoulders.

"And you never stopped to ask yourself, what the hell did Talia do in order to get her hands on that? She knew it had no real use for her, she got it so she knew you'd come looking for it. She used you! She knew you'd come! Everything you've done was always in her favor, no matter how much you look at what you've gotten out of her? It was all planned. She needed the Hellblazer, better yet she may have needed a stronger Hellblazer. One that's more useful, and naive. One that could be controlled." Pulling her head back up, gaining her breath and nearly stuttering on her words. Thick accent only coming out harsher the angrier she gets. Stating how that John knows that once he's gone? you're going to be passed down the title of the Hellblazer. There's no refusing it. You're his blood, it was literally meant to happen. A child of John Constantine takes up his mantle after death. It's might as well just be written in stone.

"Non 'est wasn't worth it. You know how terrible of a place that is, and if you keep screwing up like this?" It's almost as if she's asking a question. Asking John if she wants to be allowed to continue speaking. If he's ready to be told what he's about to hear.

"She's just going to be the same as you. Locked up in a padded cell for her own desired amount of time. Running into the people who you've already made sure hate her. Nobody's going to say it, I'm sure as hell Bruce hasn't said it yet!"

"Detective Morris."

"Stay out of her life, John. She's better off without you."

**
Unknown Location.

It feels like it's been hours. After what felt like even more, you passed out the second you heard what was going to happen to you. It felt like from shock, really. Though nothing had happened to you yet. But there's a smell in the air you can't quite identify, and your eyelids just feel so heavy. Opening them is hard, but it's just one eye at a time. Each eyelash feeling like a pound on your eyes. You were asleep. How long? You can't tell.

Images are more like shapes of colors, slowly your eyes allowing you to see what's before you. Squinting your eyes at the light made by a fire in the distance, just blurry spaces of objects. Colors are fuzzy and distorted, and the only way you're able to actually see what's before you is by blinking as often as you can. You can't rub your eyes, your wrists are tied up. You can feel the bruises even now, slowly when you become aware of your surroundings.

Eyes completely open, mouth dry and feeling fairly like cotton. You look around. There's lots of containers around, there's also an arrangement of different smells. One that makes your nose crinkle at the stench, it smells like rotten eggs. Sulfur.
You look downwards, to the tips of your toes. You're barefoot, and even staring downwards? You're completely dangling from something. Your wrists are tied to it, and that's about it. Your legs are limp, but able to move. There's not much use to it, because of all the weight that's been pulling on your shoulders and wrists. Too weak and in too much pain to do anything. You're being hung on a wooden surface, arms outstretched to two either posts. It doesn't drop down from there, it's just one long post with two extended-

A cross.

This is how you know this is about your dad.

"Did you know that the lot of your ancestors were executed?" A voice below you snaps your concern, taking your eyes off of the setting around you. Inhaling what smelled like salt as a draft blew through you. When you focused harder, it felt like you were swaying. As if the ground wasn't stable, and you're hanging body was left with nothing to keep you still. A boat?

"Where am I?" You mumbled, asking the man below you. He had the same appearance as the man who was in your home right before you passed out, and with a small and weak sounding, "Who are you?" He only chuckled in response and continued speaking.

"On your mother's side, pirate executions. Hanged before a trial. To the public eye, for everyone to see. A statement to be made over thieving and pirating. Your father's side? Witches. Burned at the stake. Same reason, a statement." He walked closer, putting his hands in his pockets. You tried to inch away, but you were obviously going nowhere.

"I'd hang you if I had an issue with your mother. A quick and painless death, just one simple snap of the neck and poof. Gone. But being burned alive?" He paused, wincing and walking away to a burning barrel. There was something being held across the top, and he was able to grab it with his bare hands. That in itself gave you a new level of fear. you just watched this ordinary man who was holding you hostage grab a piece of metal that was red hot, with his bare hands, without showing any signs of pain.

"Being burned alive is going to hurt. But it's going to be the part you look forwards to." With that said, he came closer.

"Please-no, wh-what are you d-dOING?!" Your quiet and fear ridden voice became a shout of pain near the end of your sentence, voice cracking as you shrieked the moment the hot metal came in contact to your skin. Around your ankles, dragging the long piece up your leg and stopping at your knee.

You kept screaming. No real words, just a mixture of pained shrieks while you kicked your legs forwards. Only causing him to press the hot red metal into your leg further. At this point, you could smell what it was doing to you. eyes watering as the burning post was being pushed under your skin, more screams erupted from your lungs the harder he pushed. At this point, it was long past just pressing it to your skin. Your throat already hurting as you'd stop dry in mid scream, just to inhale more. Tears well already running down your face, bruised wrists taking even more abuse the more you fought back.

You opened your eyes, tear ridden, but they landed on something across the room.

You were wearing different clothes. They looked like rags, almost like a nightgown. But across the room, was everything you had on you before you came here.

At some point during the night, you had grabbed the pocket mirror that Robin gave you.

When Nicholas stopped pressing the hot iron rod into your leg, he stopped. He picked up something that resembled chalk, and started drawing a circle on the ground. Even more proof that this was because of your father, there are runes being drawn in the circle.

Just barely sticking out of the pocket of your red zip up sweatshirt, you can see it. The finely detailed robin. Tear stained eyes skimming over the beautiful image, it's not a picture. More so a drawing. The colors stand out, and you're so glad you've seen it.

But the pocket mirror- if you can somehow get to it?

It's all just a matter of how much pain you can withstand.