Chapter Text
“Ck,” Wesley yelped in surprise as he face Paula.
“Sorry for surprising you, what’s happening,” Paula asked as she looked into Courtney’s room.
“Get dressed and come down stairs, I want an explanation,” Barbara stated as she slammed the door shut. Barbara took a deep breath and looked at Paula.
“This ever happened with Artemis,” Barbara asked.
“She’s never brought someone home. If she did, Larry would kill them,” Paula explained bluntly.
“At least he cares,” Wesley shrugged as he walked downstairs.
“What is he on about,” Paula asked.
“He couldn’t know, not about her father, that could be what he’s on about,” Barbara guessed.
“Why? Does he not care,” Paula asked.
“No, he didn’t. But he's gone now, how could Wesley know about that,” Barbara wondered.
An engine began to run. It’s vibrating making a nice humming sound. All of sudden, blood splattered all over the engine. Suddenly the image shifted. It became Courtney talking to an older man. Her father from Wesley had been able to gather. They were talking, all muffled, too muffled to understand. He could tell Courtney was hurt, the father had a locket in hand holding it up. A gloved hand wrapped itself around the father, and the father fell out of view and Courtney backed away in shock. The image shifted again to Wesley in his full Sandman gear, now beaten, dirty and cut, staring down a car, lights on blinding him to the faces in the car or those behind him. He raised a gun, not his gas gun, a Smith and Wesson revolver, fully loaded judging by the weight he could feel, at the car. He thumbed the hammer down, and he could feel the trigger pull.
Wesley was shaken awake by Barbara.
“Hey, are you okay,” she asked looking Wesley up and down. Wesley looked around and saw Paula in the kitchen, doing, something.
“Yes, I am borderline narcoleptic. Given what my dreams are like, maybe there is a reason for it,” Wesley explained as he stood up. “Has Courtney come down yet?”
“No, probably trying to get her story straight,” Barbara guessed.
“Most likely. And, I know it’s not my place, I'm not her parent, Hell, I'm not even A parent, but there’s a reason a child won’t tell their parents something,” Wesley pleaded.
“I know. This is clearly something big for her, and I think maybe I might have already mucked it up,” Barbara sorrowfully admitted.
“No! This reminds me of a story, would you like to hear it,” Wesley asked.
“Yes, please,” Barbara answered.
“Back when I was eight or nine, I saw a couple, didn’t recognise them at the time, I saw them on the floor, one on top of the other, in some dark dingy alleyway, and there knelt beside them, an eight-year-old boy. Crying at the cruelty of the world,” Wesley admitted in shame. Wesley was about to continue talking when Courtney and Yolanda walked downstairs. Courtney and Yolanda looked at each other and traded a kiss before Yolanda quickly left.
“She can stay,” Barbara pointed out.
“She would, but she’s got work,” Courtney explained.
“I should leave you two to it,” Wesley said as he went to leave.
“Just stay, you already know,” Courtney said.
“Okay then,” Wesley said as he sat down.
“Okay, Courtney, when did this begin,” Barbara asked.
“A, a couple months ago, me and Yolanda were out on patrol, we were talking and talking, and then, we get closer, and closer and closer and then next thing I know we were kissing and it felt so good, and so right,” Courtney explained going into a spiral when Barbara hugged her and patted her on the head. Wesley stood up and went to the kitchen.
“How these new generation get anything done is beyond me,” Paula admitted.
“I admit, you know these guys better than I do, but from what I hear, the JSA is all some of these kids have, all the get away from the difficulties life gave them, Yolanda, Rick, front what I hear they’re guardians are pricks. When a team is as close as they are, there is very little that they won’t be able to do,” Wesley explained as he began to make a cup of tea. He glanced over and saw Barbara and Courtney talking calmly on the sofa. He smirked and went back to the tea.
“Tell me, were you the cheerleader for the JSA,” Paula asked with a shit eating grin.
“That was Johnny Thunder and his Thunderbolt. I assume you were the ISA cheerleader,” Wesley quipped back laughing a little. Paula’s face soured and she shattered a glass in her hand. She muttered under her breathe and began to clean up.
“You okay in there,” Barbara called.
“Yep! Nothing to worry about,” Paula called back.
“Just knocked a glass over,” Wesley backed Paula up.
“Okay,” Barbara called.
“I was the ISA lead assassin, not their cheerleader. We didn’t need one, we just got the job done,” Paula explained as she began to patch her hand up.
“We didn’t either, Thunder just became it over time,” Wesley explained.
“Only thing he could do without destroying everything,” Paula asked.
“Not even that sometimes,” Wesley answered shuddering at the memories of all the times he'd have to help clean up some wish Johnny had made that he thought would help, but actually made everything worse. Like that one Thanksgiving, that still have Wesley nightmares about the cranberries.
“The pen is in a child's hands now,” Paula explained.
“That, almost seems safer actually,” Wesley guessed as he finished the tea. “Want some?”
“I'm good, thanks,” Paula responded as she finished patching up her hand.
Wesley walked out the house with Courtney in tow.
“So where do you want to go,” Courtney asked.
“JSA headquarters, or your closest counterpart,” Wesley answered.
“Pit Stop, follow me,” Courtney said as she walked down the road and Wesley followed.
“So, you set up shop in the back of Pat’s shop,” Wesley asked.
“It was one of the few places we could do anything without getting caught,” Courtney explained.
“Guess the school wouldn’t appreciate you all training in the gymnasium. Too much property damage if my experiences are to be believed,” Wesley said shuddering at how Sylvester had destroyed the training room because Ted had broken his nose.
“How much damage did training usually do,” Courtney asked.
“Not too much, unless you really pissed someone off, especially Sylvester. He would cut everything in half, and thirds, quarters and even more pieces. That’s why we rarely trained with him,” Wesley explained.
“Hourman’s the one with the temper now,” Courtney explained.
“Great, that’s the one thing we needed, all the super strength the Hourglass provides with the temperament of a teenage boy,” Wesley moaned.
“He keeps it under control, thanks to Dr Mid-Nite,” Courtney reassured.
“Nice to see Mid-Nite is still a voice of reason these days,” Wesley admitted.
“Of course she is, she also knows so much,” Courtney stated.
“Dr’s must know a lot. It’s a part of the job description,” Wesley agreed.
“Mr Dodds,” Courtney whispered.
“Please, call me Wesley, and yes,” Wesley answered.
“You don’t judge me, for what you saw me doing, do you,” Courtney asked almost shrinking on herself.
“Courtney, I don’t care what you do in your spare time. That’s for you and whatever partner you chose to make your own. If she makes you happy, and you make her happy, who am I, some grumpy old man from the old guard, to stop a couple kids from making each other happy,” Wesley stated as Courtney looked up at him nearly teary eyed.
“Do you really mean that,” Courtney asked.
“Of course, my time has come and gone, your time is now, enjoy it, and when the time comes, guide the next guard to make the best choices,” Wesley pleaded.
“I will, I promise,” Courtney answered.
“Good, that puts my mind at ease,” Wesley admitted.
“Your mind is put at ease,” Courtney joked.
They wandered to the Pit Stop and Wesley looked it over.
“That’s very Pat, own a garage. Get good business,” Wesley asked.
“Best garage in town! I think it’s the only one actually,” Courtney thought aloud.
“Well at least they got a good mechanic,” Wesley noted as he walked inside.
Inside, a teenage boy was working on a car engine.
“Wesley, this is Rick Tyler, he works here,” Courtney introduced. Rick got out of the car and looked at Wesley.
“Hey, who are you,” Rick asked.
“Wesley Dodds, you’re Rex's son, right,” Wesley asked.
“Yeah, how did you know my Dad,” Rick asked. Wesley looked him up and down and smirked.
“Back when he was Hourman, I fought by his side many a time, great man. Sad he’s gone,” Wesley noted as he walked towards Rick.
“What? What are you on about,” Rick asked.
“I know there’s a new Hourman, your name is Tyler, you’re are the son of Rex. And you're familiar with Courtney, if you’re not field JSA, you’re certainly involved somehow,” Wesley stated as he circled Rick looking him over.
“Courtney told you, didn’t she,” Rick asked.
“Only thing she gave me, was the fact that a new Hourman was active. I figured out the rest,” Wesley smugly explained as he walked back over to Courtney.
“He's good,” Rick noted.
“Yes, I was The Sandman for a reason,” Wesley quipped as he walked over to the employee only door. She felt the door and looked at the cracks.
“What are you doing,” Rick asked.
“Trying to figure out what Pat has back here. Don’t tell me! Don’t tell me! Knowing Pat, mechanical. Engineering marvel no doubt, amazed you all first time. But, still has to be feasible on a budget, junk yard parts! That would leave, one option,” Wesley muttered to himself as he walked over to Courtney and Rick.
“You figured it out,” Rick asked.
“Pat, built a mech,” Wesley declared.
“How did you,” Courtney asked.
“Easy, I know Pat, and it must be big if it’s not kept anywhere else. That giant shutter is he entrance, slash, exit,” Wesley deduced.
“You’ve got to be cheating somehow,” Rick stated.
“Nope, I just know Pat would never let kids put themselves in harm's way with no way to defend them. Now the name, the name alludes me,” Wesley admitted. He began pacing the room thinking through names.
“Want a hint,” Courtney asked. Wesley puts his hand up.
“I can do this. Former name Stripesy. He would want to keep the theme, Striped? No, no that’s not right. Stripe. Stargirl, and Stripe,” Wesley deducted as he turned around, “Am I wrong?”
“How? How do you do this,” Rick demanded.
“I’m very smart,” Wesley shrugged as he went back to the door. He knocked at the door and Pat answered.
“Wesley, hi, what you doing here,” Pat asked.
“Courtney was just showing me around. I also made some deductions,” Wesley explained.
“Come on, let’s see what you've got,” Pat said smiling.
“You've built a mech, most likely made up of parts you bought from the local junk yard, which means the owner is probably in on this in some regard, and you're calling yourself Stripe now, instead of Stripesy,” Wesley explained as a matter of fact.
“How did you,” Pat asked.
“I know you, that’s all I needed,” Wesley explained as he peaked inside and saw the mech.
“Still like this huh,” Pat asked.
“Never changed,” Wesley quipped, “Now how about an explanation of your mech Pat?”