Court

Court stared at the wall. It hadn't changed since he'd gotten here but at least it gave him a blank space to stare at and let his mind rest. He liked that it didn't change. You couldn't say that in creches he'd been raised in for most of his life. There, the walls changed on a researcher's whim, just to see if they could trigger any latent abilities in their test subjects.

He had no illusions. He'd never really had any to begin with. His parents had been consumed with their work and 'the cause' as they put it. Court had understood from a very young age that he was also part of both, whether he wanted to be or not.

He'd drifted through those early days, doing tests and participating in experiments to please his indifferent mother. With a start, Court realized that he'd never really trusted the woman. Loved her, sure, but trust was a different issue. He grunted a sardonic chuckle and leaned back, transferring his gaze to the ceiling.

The ceiling had a pattern to it. Slats of dark brown material with some sort of foamish looking tile. Court wondered if there were cameras hidden up there. The creches were littered with the things. Not a second of the children's lives were left unmonitored, as much good as it had done their captors. They'd still found a way out.

Court paused as a brief shaft of grief speared through him. He still missed Kaylen, even years later. At least he hadn't died in vain.

With the scant wisdom of a few years, Court realized that his anger about it was partially misplaced. He'd realized it at the time as well, but anger had been clouding his judgement. Now he was determined to let them pay for his friend's death, but the organization Kaylen had joined a few days before that fateful one?

Eh…he'd let that so-called Green Lantern Corps go for now. He had bigger fish to fry.

A corner of Court's lips lifted as the floor vibrated. He slowly stood up, running a hand through his curly brown hair. He resolved to dye it again once he got out of here.

The nascent smile bloomed into a full-fledged one as green smoke billowed past the small window set in the door.

He knew that smoke…

There was a growing shadow that resolved into a pair of bright blue eyes set in a perfect porcelain face. With an almost cliched unlocking noise, the door slowly opened, and she stood there, perfectly framed.

She leaned against the doorframe and flipped open the file in her hand. There was a bit of blood on the cover, but Court could see his name inscribed along the top.

"So, hacking was it? Criminal mischief? Oh, and you actually hacked into the Social Security thingie and had someone declared dead? Clever," she praised, one long leg braced against the doorframe as well. "Well, my busy, busy bee, how about we go and show them what real criminal mischief is?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Court said, standing up. He winced a little. He hadn't been sent to solitary because of his own actions after all.

A flash of concern crossed her face as she closed the file. With quick steps, she was next to him, rucking up his shirt. A quick hiss of anger and worry soon followed.

"Who?"

"I'll take care of it myself," Court assured her as they walked out of the cell. "Just let me. Please?"

"Fine," she said with a toss of her ponytails. He noted that the tips were dyed purple and green this time, the green a deeper and richer version of her own now natural hair color.

"Like your hair," he said as they stepped over unconscious bodies, their faces in various stages of rictus.

"Really? I thought you might, so I kept it," she replied, regaining her smile. "And see? I didn't kill a single soul this time. I'm learning restraint."

"Good to know," Court said, happy his ribs kept him from laughing. He knew she wouldn't appreciate the gesture.