August 17, 0258h

	J'onn J'onzz had a headache.  He wanted to blame it on spending the last 
three days breathing water instead of air.  Or maybe on the struggle to 
telepathically soothe and coax a lost and frantic baby sea monster out of the 
Sea of Japan and back to its pod.  But he knew that wasn't it.
	"He found his mother," Arthur was saying in satisfaction, floating next to 
his teammate in the deepest part of the North Pacific and watching the joyful 
dance of reunion among the leviathans.
	J'onn managed a smile and a nod.  "No more Godzilla panics."  Just other 
panics, he thought, resisting the urge to massage his temples.
	Arthur gave him a curious look.  "You seem tired, old friend."
	"As do you," J'onn countered, reading weariness on the Atlantean's 
features.  "This kind of crisis is disruptive to the art of statecraft."
	Arthur shook his head.  "I can't believe I had to have *Batman* tell me 
that there was trouble in my realm."  His tone was disdainful and self-
denigrating.
	"You have many responsibilities, Orin.  And I know you need to get back to 
them.  I will take care of the debriefing."
	It was only J'onn's use of his sea name that kept Arthur from bristling, 
from reading the Martian's offer as a slight.  "Batman will want to hear from 
both of us," he pointed out, eyeing J'onn narrowly.  He did not fail to notice 
the slight wince that Batman's name evinced.
	"Batman has other concerns.  He'll accept my report."  J'onn's tone had no 
doubt in it, but it was heavy.  He would not betray the scream ricocheting in 
his skull, but he could not hide how it weighed on him.
	Arthur seemed prepared to ask more questions, but something on J'onn's 
face held him at bay.  He nodded.  "Very well.  I will see you on my next 
monitor duty."
	"Yes."  J'onn agreed, turning to shoot toward the surface.
	The closer he got, the more he felt compelled to raise his mental shields.  
The side effect of his frequently established telepathic link between his 
teammates was a heightened sensitivity to their distinctive mental voices.  It 
was usually not a problem.
	His teammates did not usually project at him the familiar, echoing anguish 
he had felt as he had watched his daughter die.
	Now it was beating at his mind, a steady howl for more than 24 hours.  He 
grit his teeth as he burst free of the ocean, steeling himself as he prepared to 
open himself a little more to his friend, to send a message of comfort.  As 
gently as he could, he reached out.  *Bruce?*
	The response was immediate, sudden, and unexpected.  The door to Batman's mind slammed shut, cutting off 
the scream, but also *any* contact at all.  J'onn recoiled, struggling to regain equilibrium as he shot across the 
afternoon sky.  His senses reeling, he signaled the Watchtower to teleport him up.