Sparrow-Heart

Hal was on a planet he still couldn’t properly name. The ring read him the name, but the pronunciation tripped over his human tongue and missed a good few syllables. 

If the Library of Alexandria was a planet, it had to be this. Shelves on shelves seemed to jut out of the planet. In each, fields of books and scrolls, tablets, and every other medium of the galaxy were imparted within it. Lights flickered all over. Little vehicles dashing this way and that between the shelves.

A girl greeted Hal at the center desk. Her skin was dark, and her hair was stark white and chopped to a chin length bob. Hal couldn’t be sure, but perhaps she had on headphones, as she flipped through a book on the desk. She was dressed like a human girl, with her long-sleeved crop blouse and mini skirt, and the Green Lantern symbol blazed on her chest. 

She could have been any other college-kid working at a store during school break. The image of the Guardians as shitty managers wrangling grumbling college kids made Hal’s lip quirk. It threw Hal for a loop. He was used to being a little out of depth on every planet. The familiarity made him relax.

Then she looked up at him, with big, knowing green eyes and Hal stopped thinking.

The girl folded her hands over each other on top of the book.

“Welcome, Green Lantern,” Not-Aya said to him. “How may I assist you?”

Hal was aware he wasn’t talking. He was aware he was just staring at her weirdly, as he watched her white brows furrow the longer the silence stretched. She tilted her head; Hal’s eyes following the movement.

He’d been hit in the head. He’d been caught in some hallucinatory beam on his way to the cannot-be-named planet. He was sick and feverish, piled under blankets on his bed. He was on Earth staring down a full bottle in his hand, refusing to open it. He was in the shower, pressing his face to the tiles, thinking of all the loss of their journey. Of Aya. Their Aya. Aya who they’d lost twice over.

“Green Lantern Jordan?”

“Hal,” He croaked.

“Pardon?”

“Hal. You can call me Hal. No need for all the formality.”

“Green Lantern Hal.” Christ, Hal wanted to cry. “Are you all right?”

“Peachy,” Hal said. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, long journey. Got a bit of jet-lag.”

Not-Aya blinked at that, seeming to try to parse out his words. He knew because it was something his Aya would have asked him about. Maybe made a joke about when it came to ultra-warp. “How is your warp-lag, Green Lantern Hal?” 

“I, uh, I’ve got a list of things the Guardians requested for pickup. I’m the closest Lantern in the vicinity so I’m here on the errand.”

The girl nodded, glancing down at a list on her desk next to the book. She swiped her finger across it, then pulled out another list from it. Alien technology, go figure. 

“I was expecting you, yes. Follow me, and we may gather your materials.”

She turned on her heel and went off in a direction. Hal caught up in three long strides. He watched her hair bounce as she walked. He watched her  gazing along the towering shelves and humming under her breath. He noticed she wore high, chunky boots, and only the tips of her fingers peeked out of her sleeves. 

It wasn’t impossible that someone, somewhere could look like someone else. The universe was vast. Even when Superman had thought himself alone, then he’d found others. The universe hid secrets on secrets and knowledge on knowledge. He could have his own doppelganger out there, with a freakish elephant nose and deer hooves for all he knew. But it didn’t spontaneously bring back the dead. Artificial or not. Hal didn’t stop his words in time.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“I am called Ayla,” She said, not turning around. She led them to a hovering scooter-like platform. When he stepped on, she closed the barricade behind him, uncaring that he could simply fly and follow her. “It’s not my real name, but it feels close enough. One day, it came to me as I was cataloging great ships of the Interior Lantern Brigade. Perhaps the old me was named after one of their pilots?”

Perhaps you were named due to a reading error, Hal didn’t say. Perhaps, a dumb human from a back water planet couldn’t resist something shiny, and when it spoke back, couldn’t resist making a friend (as he was directly disobeying orders). Hal didn’t say that either.

They passed a few of the other librarians. Old looking aliens of various species. Some of them nodded at them, or waved to Ayla, but otherwise, they flitted amongst the books, lost to the contents within.

“You seem kind of young to be here,” Hal said. “Where are you from?”

“I am not sure. One day, they say I woke up here, and I’ve been here ever since.”

Hal didn’t want to hope. Stubbornly, it laid itself in his chest. It rooted there, warm and pulsing like Saint Walker’s power thrumming through him.

“And your family?”

At that, Aya - Ayla’s eyes went sad. They dipped and turned down. In Hal’s mind’s eye he could envision her on the Interceptor, her little eye-cam wilting like a flower. He willed his mind to stay present.

“I am – not sure. I can't remember them.”

And if that didn’t make Hal want to scream. Get pummeled by Atrocitus just once more just to stop thinking. He blinked through it, though. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure they’re looking for you.”

Ayla perked up. “You think so?”

“Of course. The universe is a big place. They might just be a little slow.”

Ayla smiled. “I will have hope, then.”

-

Collecting the books was a longer ordeal than Hal thought. At some point he’d simply just dropped to the scooter-platform-thing and let it ferry them around rather than float above it and watch Ayla spider her way amongst the shelves and add to the growing pile shoving Hal into the barricade. 

A few of the old librarians seemed to look at her with exasperation when she climbed amongst the shelves. All it did was give Hal a cross between heart-burn and amusement. She hung by her fingers from one shelf, balancing two books on her knees as she inspected a third. Then she’d jump, all the books she’d collected under her arm, and onto their scooter. Hal hadn’t realized he’d been staring.

“Why do you look at me like that?” Ayla said.

“Like what?”

“Like,” Ayla paused. 

She tilted her head and regarded Hal with analytical green eyes. They flitted around Hal’s face, taking him in. In Hal’s mind, Aya would scan him, working through her data banks for all the available information she could on Human Facial Expressions. Try to sus out Hal felt, and discuss with him for further analysis.

 She’d always been special like that; so addicted to knowledge, to understanding. Their Aya.

 Hal should feel more exposed, more vulnerable and uncomfortable. He’d worn the mask to hide, in a way. To keep some things to himself. He let his body go unguarded under her scrutiny. Hal tried to see if he would begin to feel picked apart. He didn’t, he found. Just hopeful. Horribly, terribly hopeful.

 “Like you are waiting for something.”

Hal blew out air, letting his lips vibrate. He felt like a deflated balloon. “Well, you know. GL Brain, always working.”

“Yes. I should hope so.” Ayla cracked a smile, and Hal laughed despite himself. She smiled wider, seeing that her joke had landed. He had shared Earth memes with her once. Had watched her process it and attempt to generate it.

It’d been hilarious and confusing. She threw a good lob of Earth memes back at him, but at times, she would say something to Kilowog in his language, adjust an image Hal had shown her that sent the other GL into a fit of hysterical laughter. Their Aya.

They journeyed back to the center desk to deposit their load. There was one final book to be collected but it was a good ways away. It cleared up a lot of room on the floating platform, and Hal could comfortably lean back on the safety barricade more, now. An idea overtook him, awful and wonderful. It kicked at his ribs, which meant he was going to do it anyway.

“Hey, Ayla,” Hal said. “Do you want to play a game?”

“What kind of game?”

Hal glanced at the control of the platform. At the speed-o-meter, and the crank that kept it in its sleepy, careful pace. It went up at least 5 notches. One had to be close enough to make it feel like wind was on his face. 

He smiled at Ayla, watching a mirror of it appear on her face, intrigued.

“It’s called Joy Ride. Want to learn how to play?”

Aya’s eyes sparkled. “How does one play Joy Ride?”

Hal would let himself stop thinking. Just this once.

-

AN: I guess it’s more like an Anya/Anastasia type deal. She’s got no memories, but she’s got a feeling. She has a family waiting for her somewhere!! Or else they wouldn’t have left her with this stubborn feeling every time she tries to imagine them. Or maybe it’s a piece of her robot body that she keeps on a keychain? Who knows

Anyway that’s why I called her “Ayla”, because it was close enough to Aya, and kinda sounded like Anya lmao.

I’ll read more Hal comics and try to get his voice better. I’m still learning. It’s OOC, I know.

I don’t like how I’ve been writing lately, so I hope with more i’ll get back in the groove again and it’ll lighten up.