The Realm Hero Chronicles: Round 2

Chapter 2: Overcomer (Part 1)

' Recognized: Laval R-0-1. Cragger R-0-2. Lloyd R-0-3.' The Zeta tube announced. In a whirl of light, the three Realm Heroes arrived at Mount Justice.

"Can't get enough of the new Zeta tube numbers, huh?" Robin asked from behind a holographic screen and matching keyboard.

"It's tolerable," Lloyd grinned, "Gotta admit that it makes traveling around your realm easier."

"Yeah," Cragger laughed, "That was a genius idea."

"Thank you," Robin laughed too.

Laval smiled before asking, "What's wrong or so urgent that it needed us three?"

Robin gestured to the holographic screen, "Guess who's with BC right now?"

"He finally took our advice?" Lloyd asked, "That's funny."

"No lie," Robin replied.

"Well that's good," Laval acknowledged, "Perhaps she can help."

"She can," Robin answered, his tone softening, "In ways that we as the Realm Heroes may not even be able to do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You can stop looking around," Black Canary smiled from her comfortable situation in her green armchair, "No one's watching. There aren't any cameras in here. Well, there are, but we turn them off for sessions like these."

Across from Black Canary in a chair very similar to her's sat Wilbur Robinson. He was currently seated with his hands firmly in his lap, a thin frown, and was wearing his lucky Captain Time Travel shirt. The one that always made him feel so confident. Except for today.

Black Canary knew the minute that Wilbur had entered, something was wrong. Besides the fact that she could faintly see some of his scar marks, Wilbur had a guilty look written across his face, nightmares confirmed by the dark bags underneath his deep brown eyes. Those same eyes never reverted from the sorrow inside as Wilbur had told Black Canary about what had happened to him.

"That's okay," Wilbur replied, his voice almost unrecognizable as the overconfident young man he was. "I'm used to people watching me. First, as the son of a famous inventor and second..." he trailed off as Black Canary picked up the hint.

"I see," she answered. Shifting slightly, she asked, "How long have you had your trauma?"

"Five months, two weeks, three days, two hours, and five minutes," Wilbur answered.

"How precise," Black Canary praised.

"Before you judge," Wilbur began, "I know I have PTSD."

"What makes you sure you have it?" Black Canary asked.

Wilbur reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a wad of notebook paper. "I did research when I first noticed something wrong."

"What took you so long to speak to me?" Black Canary asked.

"I wanted to be sure that I didn't have anything else," Wilbur ended the discussion.

Black Canary paused. "Where do you see the sharpest flashbacks of the trauma?"

Wilbur's pause was longer. "Dreams. They haunt me at night the worst."

Black Canary's next question was like the lightning bolt on Wilbur's shirt had struck. "Before me, have you told anybody else about what you went through?"