a/n: so basically lots of rushed writing is going down, because i felt like i was getting nowhere with my plot and i just wanted to get all of the confusion out of the way. opinions? They help, really. If anything doesn't make sense, comment and question and I'll try to answer it! I also want to repeat that the bright green star shooting across isn't starfire, but you'll be pretty happy once i announce who it is ^_^

Several things are happening right at this moment. Detective Morris is talking to people in a forensic lab over one of her more recent cases. Adult male victim, bullet through the head. The gun with the matching bullets used as the murder weapon ended up being found under a pile of garbage in a dumpster. The prints were close to impossible to make out, due to there being not one set, but two sets of prints. One was more clear than the other, though.

She's staring at her computer screen in the lab, screen facing her while she faces everybody else in the room. Wondering how the hell this is possible, and that it should just be a mistake in the system.

Elbows on desk, fingers entwined together over her mouth while she continues reading the one name they got a clear match on. Knowing full well theres another person who left their prints on that gun, the only set that was made out? Detective Morris doesn't think this is the killer. But for some reason she's still unsure of it all.

(Y/n) (L/n).

She had her doubts, but after digging for hours and hours through files and even more files? There's evidence that something you did a long time ago is behind held away from the law. Meaning it's on paperwork, but was never put into a computer system. Never uploaded into a document, but was recorded on paper and then stashed away-hidden. Possibly destroyed.

Detective Morris isn't from here. Her name is Laura, and her last name isn't even Morris. And like mentioned, Laura isn't from around here? She's from here, but it's different.

The place where she's from, Washington DC has fallen. The world is in complete and total peace, though. The cost was freedom. And it wasn't just America either. All over England, Russia, China, Germany, everywhere. Hell, even the league of Assassins had to be run underground if half of them weren't murdered. Though the person who put them out had every little bit as same as a goal as they did.

Clark Kent.

Laura remembers sitting in her living room watching TV while the live announcement came through as Superman stated who his personal identity was. Laura also remembers hearing that someone was also paid to kill Martha and John Kent all too soon after that broadcast.

Laura also remembers hearing about the death of Green Arrow. But then it wasn't long for Laura's father to involve himself in the situation. Only to protect his daughter. Unfortunately, this wasn't Laura or her other sister. It was Rose. She was probably the one who needed it the most. So it's why Laura didn't get angry when John Constantine came back only to use the Tower of Fate as a shelter for Rose.

John constantine has two sons, and three daughters. In other words? He needs to be more careful. Because three of his kids are dead.

Both sons, and a daughter.

Another thing that's different from this reality and the one she came from, is that you're not alive anymore. The place where she came from, you're dead and you've been dead for less than two months.

She remembers sitting next to her father John while he explained everything to her. Explained that Bruce was Batman, and that if anything happens Laura can use the Tower of Fate to get to the right part and figure out how to fix things. But she can't just pop up out of nowhere, she has to stay there for a while before. Make a person out of herself. So she took the name Morris from a partner that she had a while ago.

Laura's always been a detective. Granted, not always in the law exactly. But it wasn't vigilante work. Laura'll swear on her life she's never done any vigilante work, besides what she helped around with in the Tower of fate with her father while everything was happening. She's always worked on occult-like cases. Things the police don't touch because they didn't understand it. But when you get a partner killed? It's something she stopped doing out of anger and hatred towards herself.

After all, Laura grew up with her dad. You didn't. Not even in the reality where she came from. You grew up with mom, sheltered to a point. But you lived in gotham so all that amount of sheltering meant nothing to anybody the second you started involving yourself with Damian Wayne.

Who is apart of the reason you're dead in the alternate reality where she came from. So when she saw Robin standing there? Knowing full well what he did and how he was in the place where she came from? Sure, he's a kid now. But she was holding back every restraint to not just deck the brat right then and there. Knuckles to the nose, hoping for a solid break. But no.

Laura came here to speak with Bruce. Because she was told he's the only person who can help. Afterall, she's probably the last living person from her timeline. And she wouldn't even know it.

And why does she worry about this? Because there is an alien dictator that controls earth named Clark Kent. All he would have to do is move the moon just barely an inch to the right of the left to send the entire world into panic. Mass title waves, constant weather shifts. And that's just one out of the million ways he could destroy the earth.

And she knows that it's possible something like that has already happened. She knows it's possible everybody who she knows and cares about is dead. She knows it's possible that the longer she stays in this reality, the longer she'll start to deteriorate and her memories will go with her.

She knows she might be one of the last hopes for the reality she comes from. And it's all resting on her working up the ability to go speak to Bruce Wayne. And generally hope that she doesn't get thrown into Arkham for it, too.

But one thing that's slowed her down? You. Because she misses you so much and can't do a single thing about it. Can't go to see you, can't go to talk to you. You'd probably recognize her instantly and just toss her off as someone related to John constantine based on her appearance alone. But of course, you'd fail to notice all the similar features between the two. And if there's anybody who could hold a grudge longer than your average vigilante, it was you.

She wants to see you so bad, it's why she brought the ring with her. Knowing that if it somehow got into your hands, everything would be so much easier to believe. So she let Damian take it off of her hand, and ignored it when he did. Because it was meant to happen.

**

At this very moment, while Detective Laura Morris sits in the lab with the laptop going over everything she can on your profile. Nick is making his way closer to Gotham.

But john beat him here, and is currently in the bookstore knocking on Madame Xanadu's door. There's a sign that welcomes everybody, but when you flip it over? It says 'unless you're John Constantine'. Mumbling something about 'Damn Clairvoyants' and about how he needs to start getting on someone's good side for a change. It could be extremely helpful, and maybe even life threatening if he doesn't start cleaning up his goddamn act soon enough. But maybe it's too late for that.

At this point, he's reduced to trying and attempting to pick the lock. Kneeling onto the dusty ground and muttering profanities to himself all the while doing so. Beige trench coat laying softly in the dust that'd been on the ground. Probably hasn't been swept in this area for a while. And the rock salt he keeps crunching under his shoes explains why. Xanadu's expecting company that isn't welcomed, so she's probably requested nobody to come near with a broom.

It was unlocked when he first got there. But the second he made contact with the brassy doorknob? It went red hot, burning his palm. And locked instantly. Of course she would charm the door, she probably charmed everything else in that room too. Nobody trusts him anymore, after all these years. He really should have expected this.

He should have also expected the sound of footsteps coming from the spiral staircase that connected the top apartment to the bookstore. Should have expected that when he turned around, he'd see your mother walking down with armloads of boxes and equipment and other stock for the bookstore or cafe.

Should have known that the second her eyes caught the smallest glance at him, or just the whiff of nicotine in the air, that she'd drop everything. She'd drop everything and just stand there. Eyes growing wide, lips parting in shock, her skin would pale. She'd grow cold, the hair on her arms and neck would stand tall.

He stared at her. She's wearing a short sleeved button up blouse, white with no patterns. The bottom part is tucked into a white skirt that goes just to the middle of her chins, blue flower like designs all over the skirt. Some fairly short heels in a matching white color to the blouse. With her hair messily tied up into a bun, and a ring on her left hand.

But John isn't staring at any of that. Isn't staring at the crows feet starting to form under your mother's eyes, isn't looking at the ring that cost more than anything he'd possibly buy. He isn't staring at her arms-that are shaking out of fear. He isn't staring at her large doe like (e/c) eyes that display bright red veins indicating lack of sleep.

He's staring at the bump on her stomach. The large belly, about ready to pop it seemed.

Why?

Because it hasn't actually been years since the last time your mother and father saw each other. It's been almost exactly nine months. And it's something she's not planning on telling you about because she feels too ashamed. She knows more, she knows that there isn't just one baby.

There's two. She's been lying to you about all of it. Not wanting to, but also not knowing how to tell you. Especially the part that consisted of her and your father. Come on, how could she tell you?

So constantine slowly takes a step towards her, only for her to stumble backwards a step closer to the staircase and shake her head. Terrified expression blossoming over her features. Eyes growing even wider, if that were possible. His eyes are soft towards her, and no words are spoken as he feels the tension growing even more in the air.

But he still speaks.

"(M/n) I-" With hope in his voice, he quickly gets shut down.
"Don't." Taking a step back. Fearful expression on her face leaving as it turns sour. A scowl, a glare. Jaw tightening before she gives him an utter look of nothing but disbelief.

Placing her hand on her stomach as if to protect them. Even though she knows he might take offense to this.
But he understands. Understands why she feels she has the need to protect her children from him. After what he put you through? And with all the little to no answers that your mother has from him about it? He's surprised she hasn't pulled a gun from behind the counter and threatened him with it yet.

"Please, tell me it's not mine." Even if she's lying to him. Even if he knows she's lying to him. He can't let himself feel even more responsible or terrible. Maybe both. Maybe he can lie to himself about this, he wonders. Maybe he can just convince himself it never happened and things are the same as they've always been. John Constantine isn't one to do what's wrong. But if what's right for the kid, is them believing that he's not their father? He doesn't want another repeat of what happened to you.

"Get out of here. I never want to see your face around here again-"
"Listen to me, I didn't come for-"
"I'll call the police. I'll-"
"Our damn daughter is in danger and all you can still do is fight with me!?" The angrier John gets, the thicker his accent gets. Something your mother remembers well. Never being the one at the source of who's pissing him off. But usually around when it happens.

This shuts her up. Glaring at the blonde man in front of her. The stubble on his face as turned into a slight beard, he isn't taking care of himself. He's being serious.

"She's not our daughter, she's my daughter."

**

All while your mother and your father are arguing, all the while Detective Laura Morris is going over your files and trying to find the original ones on paper?  Lea is getting off of the train, and making her way towards an airport. Both duffel bags in hand, taking a seat and waiting for the person she's meeting up with. Just a friend who owes her a favor. Nothing special.

She knows she won't be able to get on a plane with the gun, but she still wants to hold onto it for personal reasons. She also knows she can't just up and buy a ticket.

She's waiting here because she lied to Mason. The person who can give her a lift? Has a small plane of his own. Seats four people at most, and he stated that the two should meet up here. Appropriate, and ironic.

Lea should be in Gotham by three in the morning. And the first thing she's doing is going after that green light she spotted. It's currently midnight.

She has an extremely bad feeling in her gut. And while she's staring at the main entrance for her friend to come by?

She's remembering that moment. The moment she saw that green star stretch across the night sky. That bright green trail that was left behind it- it wasn't from the star.

She was so busy focusing on the star that she didn't notice the long streak of green lightning chasing after it. Chasing along the ground as opposed to the sky.

Because it was going too fast for her to see.

There was something chasing that green light, and she's only just now starting to realize there's more to what she really saw.

**

Right now, as all of this is happening? You're on the phone with Maps. Sitting outside at the local park near the Bookstore and swinging for a little bit. Red hoodie, faded jeans, and some sneakers. It's cold, and you feel like your bones are made of ice, really.

You just needed some air, knowing there's no school tomorow or the next day. There's also no school on Monday. And it's friday night right now. Calling Maps to see if you can come over maybe, she says that's fine. Pomelines over right now, and you're fine with that too. since it's the weekend Maps went home instead of staying at the school. Pom was visiting. Maps told you to stay there, that she and her mom would come and pick you up. Neither of them wanted you walking all the way to her house.

And right as you hang up the phone?

It goes silent. the sound of the chain swinging and clanking while you gently push yourself back and forth. Swinging at a slow pace. Dragging your shoes on the ground, picking up barkchips. It's cold out, again. You can see your breath come out as white fog clouds. Nose red. It's dark, and your phone battery is at maybe 15%.

You can see the stars from above, looking up and tilting your chin to the midnight sky. Extremely dark, but the little dots light up just enough. The sky is clear now, no more clouds. No more rain.

The moon looks pretty.

You let your eyes wander down the the woodland across from the park. There's some woods connected, and that's not exactly a good idea. Knowing full well that kids are curious creatures. But you're not dumb enough to go wandering through the woods at night.

You let your eyes go to the ground just in time to miss the bright green streak soar across the sky. But let your eyes pace towards to the woods fast enough to see just the faintest hint at a green lightning-like streak race through the bushes and trees. All you saw was a faint hint of green and yellow through the empty spaces between trees and shrubbery-which granted wasn't much.

But it was enough to make you audibly gasp and shoot yourself up from your seat on the swing, grabbing the chain and dropping your jaw.

All this movement muffled the sound of someone stepping towards the barkchips towards you, and the woodland was the last thing you saw before someone placed a chloroform soaked rag to your mouth and nose.