Strange Visitor - Part 1

"I don't remember much after the Crisis. Just the White Room and the Powers looking down on me and making amends."
"Making amends for what?" asked Batman.
"Not being able to put me back where I belonged. When they rebuilt the universe there were a couple of minor differences. Nothing major. Just certain things happened in a different way. Like my parents never having another child after my sister."
"So you were never born," said the Flash. "And your existence would have caused a paradox."
"Yeah. But I survived, somehow, and was thrown outside of time and space. They could have left me there, but they decided to be magnanimous."
"And they sent you here," said Batman.
"Yeah."
"Why?" asked the Dark Knight.
"They said it would be familiar to me."
"Is it?" asked the Flash. "Are we?"
"Yeah. Although the Flash I'm familiar with wasn't a woman and Batman wasn't black."
Batman grunted. The Flash looked vaguely amused.
"Now that these . . . Powers, have dumped you on us, what are we supposed to do with you?" asked Batman.
"I don't know, but I'd appreciate it if it didn't involve exploratory surgery or anything."
The Flash laughed. "We wouldn't do that. This isn't The X-Files."
"Cool. You guys have The X-Files here?"
"They've been on air for almost twenty-five years," said the Flash.
"If we can get back to the matter at hand," said Batman, gruffly. "We'll need to confirm your story, Mr. Jones."
"How?" asked the Flash.
"STAR Labs," said Batman. "They owe us after that mess with Will Magnus and his Metal Men."
He turned on his heel and marched toward the Batjet.
The Flash and Jones looked at one another, shrugged, and hurried to catch up with him.
* * * * *
"Well," said Professor Francine "Frankie" Palmer, "he's certainly not from this universe."
Batman's mouth tightened. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Frankie. "Everything in our universe resonates at the same quantum frequency. Your new friend doesn't."
"He's not a friend," said Batman. "He's an unknown."
Frankie shrugged. "Whatever he is, he isn't from our universe. That would suggest his story has elements of truth to it."
"I sense a 'but' coming up," said the Flash.
"But," said Frankie, "he's not baseline human either."
"He's a meta?" asked Batman.
"Hard to say," admitted Frankie. "His genetics are almost a hundred percent identical to ours, but there are differences. If he was from our world, I'd say he was a meta. Since he isn't, I don't know if what we've detected is normal for him or a reaction to being in a different environment."
"What have you detected?" asked the Flash. As a scientist herself, her curiosity was piqued.
"He's stronger and tougher than your average human and, I'm not sure, but I think he might have some kind of regenerative ability."
"Did you ask him about it?" asked Batman.
"No," said Frankie. "I thought you'd want to know first, Batsy."
Batman scowled. "Don't call me that."
"Sorry," said Frankie. "Old habits die hard."
"So parts of his story check out," said the Flash. She looked at Batman. "What do we do now?"
"If you want, you could leave him here," said Frankie. "I'd love to do more tests. Maybe some exploratory surgery. . . ."
The Flash grimaced. "I don't think so, Frankie."
The professor's face fell.
"We'll take him with us," said Batman. "Keep him close, so we can keep an eye on him. If he's a threat, we'll deal with him."
"And if he's not a threat?" asked the Flash. "If he is a cosmic refugee?"
Batman said nothing, but from the way his mouth hardened, the Flash was sure he didn't believe that possibility for a moment.

Strange Visitor - Part 2

Gotham City was a hell of neon lights and smog. Jones stood at his hotel window, staring through the glass at the street. He could see cars creeping along and pedestrians on the street, many of them wearing what appeared to be gas masks. He shook his head and pulled the curtains closed, returned to the bed. The television was on, but muted, tuned to a news channel. A man with a bad spray tan and a worse toupe was commenting on some kind of military incident in Eastern Europe. The ticker tape at the bottom of the screen read: Russian troops massing on Markovian border.
Jones flipped through the channels until he found a local station. They were showing a sit-com that looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't remember the name. He left it there and reached for the wallet the Flash had given him.
Batman had provided him with a driver's license, a debit card and about a hundred bucks in cash. The money didn't look quite right to Jones. The bills came in different shades of green, with higher denominations being paler. At least the faces on the money were identical to cash back home.
The Flash and Batman had dumped him here while they figured out something longterm. Jones wasn't sure what that meant, but he was glad to be out of STAR Labs. The scientist who had examined him, Professor Palmer, had been a little creepy.
The Flash had said she would check up on him tomorrow. Batman had just said he'd keep an eye on him and that he'd be in touch.
The hotel room was paid for through the week, and there was about a thousand on the debit card. The driver's license looked like the real thing, but Batman had warned him not to get arrested. He'd put together the identity on short notice and until he could firm it up, it probably wouldn't stand up to closer scrutiny.
Jones had no intention of getting arrested. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave the hotel room. Gotham City was scary as hell, by night. He couldn't imagine it being much better during the day.
On the television, the sit-com gave way to the local news.
Markovia was the lead story, followed by coverage of something called the War of Faces. Apparently, Clayface and Two-Face were trying to kill each other and each had recruited a bunch of local villains to their respective sides.
Crazy, thought Jones, and turned off the television. He switched off the lights, stripped to his shorts and crawled beneath the bedclothes.
He felt far from home and he was beginning to suspect that he was deeply out of his depth.
* * * * *
Byron Wayne didn't bother trying to be stealthy as he entered his bedroom, halfway across Gotham. He knew better than to even try.
"You're home early," said Georgina. She was sitting up in bed, glasses resting on the tip of her nose, a copy of Dostoyevski's 'The Idiot' in her lap. "I thought you'd be out for hours still, trying to track down the faces."
Byron slid into bed. "The police can handle that for the moment. Something else came up."
"What?" asked Georgina. She put her book on the bedside table and turned off the lamp.
He told her about Jones. She listened without asking any questions, but Byron knew her mind was awhirl with thoughts. He could tell by the slightly unfocused look in her eyes.
"You think he could be a danger," said Georgina.
"I think it's best to plan for the worse," said Byron.
"Of course," agreed Georgina. "That makes sense. But maybe you should ask the princess to speak with him."
"I'm considering it," admitted Byron. "I'd rather handle this on my own. Bad enough the Flash is involved."
"You don't live in a vacuum, darling," said Georgina. She slid closer to him, lay her head on his chest. "And there's no shame in letting the rest of the League shoulder some of the burden."
Byron grunted, but said nothing.
They fell asleep like that, Georgina's head on his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her.
* * * * *
The Tower occupied a lonely stretch of Maine coastline, close to the Canadian border. Officially, it was a decommissioned lighthouse, purchased and refurbished by Orion Luthor as an exotic retreat. Unofficially, it was the headquarters of the Justice League.
The Flash stepped into the Tower and waited, impatiently, for the security system to authenticate her identity. Once she had been given the green light, she raced down the stairs to the command center. At the moment, Green Arrow was on monitor duty. He was sitting with his feet up on the console, hands folded over his stomach, eyes closed to narrow slits.
"Hey! No catnapping on duty!" chided the Flash.
Green Arrow didn't move at all, as he said, "I'm not asleep."
"Could have fooled me," said the Flash. She leaned against the console. "Anything going on?"
"Nothing. Keeping an eye on Markovia, but that's it."
"You think the Russians will invade?" asked the Flash.
"If they do, they'll regret it. The Markovian Royals will kick their asses back to Moscow."
"You think?"
Green Arrow opened his eyes and snorted. "Yeah. All that?" He waved at the news screens. "It's just a show."
"I hope you're right," said the Flash.
"What about you?" asked Green Arrow. He lowered his feet and stretched. "What have you been up to tonight?"
"I met a man from another universe," said the Flash.
"Really? Tell me everything."
She did.
"And Batman's got him staying in Gotham?" asked Green Arrow.
"He insisted. You know how he is."
Green Arrow nodded. "What do you think he's going to do with him? Longterm, I mean."
"I don't know," admitted the Flash.
"You think Jones is on the up-and-up?"
"I think so. The Bat's probably thinking up a dozen ways to find out for sure."
"He should talk to the princess. Get her to do her lasso thing."
"If he does want to do that, you can go with him. Not me."
"You afraid of her?" asked Green Arrow, grinning.
"She gives me the creeps," admitted the Flash. "I can't stand that cult of hers."
"I don't know if it's a cult. . . ."
"It's a cult," said the Flash, firmly. "Trust me."
Green Arrow shrugged. "Whatever. You wanna hang out?"
"I should get home. I've got work tomorrow and I promised Jones I'd check up on him."
"Hmm. Tell the Bat if he wants to visit the princess, I'll go with him."
"Sure," said the Flash. "Later."
She was gone before Green Arrow could draw breath to say goodbye. He shrugged again and resumed his original position, feet on the console, eyes half-closed.