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—
Yellowstone National Park
Old Faithful
There was no Red Volcano yet, and Morrow did not have any of his other creations with him, so it was just a simple elevator ride to the secret base. There were cameras, so Morrow knew they were coming, but since his greatest defense, his secrecy, was gone now, the scientist couldn't stop them.
The real T.O. Morrow was an old man, moving around with a nasal cannula tied to an oxygen concentrator on a trolley, and currently was working on an android, a younger version of himself, and seeing his condition, Miles knew it wouldn't be long before he fell into a coma.
Thomas stopped his work, turning his chair around to face the trio. "So, you found me. How?"
Miles just took a seat. "I know a great matter of things, Morrow, but not the reason behind your vitriol at superheroes and humanity." He didn't know, because the writers of Young Justice had not provided T.O. Morrow with a background to justify his hatred for the Justice Society and then the League, as well as his plan to destroy the Earth.
The old scientist just coughed, modifying his oxygen intake. "You wish to hear my story? That's a first." None had bothered to ask him that question before.
Miles pointed around the room to some of the most sophisticated samples of robotics on the planet. "I simply refuse to believe a man as brilliant as yourself would one day just wake up and decide to destroy the world for the sake of it."
"You'd be correct."
"We are all ears, Thomas."
Morrow's tale was one that concerned his wife, Isabella, dying in a fire that the Justice Society of America tried to put down. Thomas blamed them for not rescuing his wife, as they had managed to evacuate all the other tenants, and swore revenge.
As his androids began to develop outside the parameters he had set up, Morrow became more and more obsessed with controlling his creations.
And here they were.
"Though, it doesn't matter anymore, does it? You found me, and all my attempts will mean nothing now." Morrow began to press more buttons, and from the look in his eyes, Miles knew he was most likely trying to kill himself rather than go to prison.
"Tell me, would Isabella agree with your actions? Trying to destroy the heroes and the world?" His words stopped Thomas, though his glare did have Claire and Kara on alert.
It was the glare of a man with nothing to lose, and that kind of man was the most dangerous.
"You know nothing about her." The seething words sent the scientist into a coughing fit, and Miles had to wait for it to finish.
"But you do, Thomas. What would your dear wife think, seeing you become a monster with no regard for human life?"
"I…"
"Shall we ask her?" His offer was met with confusion from Thomas and Supergirl, while Claire just wondered how he would even do that.
"Does he have short-term memory problems?" Thomas asked the girls, with Kara considering the possibility, while Claire just kept an eye on the scientist.
"No, but I know sorcerers who can summon the spirit of your wife to the mortal realm for a short duration. The thing is, Thomas, do you have the courage to face her after everything?"
—
Greenwich Village
Hokus & Pokus Occult Curioso
Javelins were a godsend, because even if it was on a private jet, he did not relish the idea of a flight from Wyoming to New York, Greenwich, to enlist the assistance of Madame Xanadu.
"Miles Beckett, welcome once again, and so soon." Madame Xanadu greeted him and the girls, though she too had guests, as John Constantine and Jason Blood were seated inside, sipping tea.
Constantine narrowed his eyes, while Jason simply watched him.
"Am I interrupting something important, Madame? I can return at a further date." The task at hand was important, but there was no need to draw the attention of someone like John Constantine.
"Just a gathering among old friends. May I assume you are here for another commission?"
"Indeed, though, this one will take you away from the comfort of your shop for a while, if you accept."
"As long as the price is right. Please, take a seat while I bring you tea." Nimue left for the kitchen while Miles, Claire and Kara sat down on the offered chairs.
"Miles Beckett. It's rare to see an honest customer like you." Jason knew from experience that the more expensive a commission was, the more dangerous it got, especially with some customers looking to swindle the mages.
"I am an honest businessman, Mr. Blood." That is, he would treat people as they treated him.
John reached for a cigarette before remembering how Nimue didn't like it and put the box back. "So what's your commission this time?"
"A séance to summon the soul of a dead woman so her husband could have closure." Constantine and Blood were great sorcerers as well, so any of the three could carry out the commission.
"Curious. Did the husband not consider resurrection?" Every now and then, someone would come trying to resurrect a loved one through magic, only to be turned away and end up going to less reputable sorcerers, which would end in a tragedy and a mess for them to clean up.
Jason hated those occasions.
Miles knew even if he asked and offered to pay the world, neither of the sorcerers would accept that task. "If I wanted someone resurrected, I would be talking to higher powers."
"Which powers would those be?" The term "Higher Powers" could mean a lot of entities, ranging from Gods of Death across different pantheons to more esoteric beings. John knew none of them could be trusted even on the best of days.
"Here you are." Madame Xanadu's timely arrival meant no more questioning from either Constantine or Blood.
She handed them the cups, along with biscuits, and a calming fragrance wafted from the tea. Miles took a sip, and the girls followed, seeing no harm, though the way Kara drank half the hot tea without burning her tongue did raise some eyebrows.
Now that they were properly welcomed as guests with refreshments, Nimue went into business mode. "So, how may I offer my assistance this time, Miles?"
Miles put down the cup. "There is a scientist with deep hatred against the Justice League and the world. I am hoping to bring him closure so he may consider changing his ways. To that end, your commission would be to summon the soul of his wife for a short duration."
Nimue nodded. While not common, she was hired for seances every once in a decade. "Well, a more sensible approach than resurrection. You said this would be away; how far exactly?"
"Yellowstone National Park." Not a long distance when it came to magic.
John had doubts, but Yellowstone wasn't a location of any magical accidents, nor a place for rituals. "That's a bit far, isn't it? Why not just bring the man here?" It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to bring one of them to a trap.
Miles held out his phone, showing Morrow's photograph and the man's current condition. "He is over ninety years old and needs constant medical assistance."
"Distance is not an issue, though; I will need to prepare for the séance." Summoning the souls of the dead required careful preparations to avoid any mishaps.
"Understandable. As for your fee, let's say two million dollars, and the matter is kept silent."
"My, I see why Nimue values you as a customer now." Jason would happily keep his mouth shut in consideration of Nimue.
—
Yellowstone National Park
Nimue took her tarot cards, a basin with runes carved in it, and candles. They didn't have to take the Javelin again, thanks to John Constantine creating a teleportation circle that took them straight to Yellowstone.
He and Jason decided to hang around, most likely to keep an eye out to make sure no funny business happened.
Miles took them to the secret base, where Morrow was still working on his android as they came in.
He stopped, turning away from his work to assess the newcomers. "These are the sorcerers?"
"Yes, Madame Xanadu, John Constantine, and Jason Blood. If you are ready, we can start immediately."
"Let's do this then."
Constantine summoned a table and chairs for the three of them, while Nimue prepared the table, filling the basin with a green liquid, lighting the candles, and laying out her tarot cards.
Miles wasn't familiar with tarot and simply opted to watch.
"Now, please state your full name, as well as your wife's." It was best to be precise in these matters to avoid summoning the wrong spirit, or something worse.
"Thomas Oscar Morrow and Isabella Morrow."
"For your wife to be summoned, it has to be voluntary. I will guide you and provide the necessary power, but it will be up to you to bring her here." A soul summoned by force to the mortal realm tended to suffer and go mad. As it was, Nimue would just be the medium while Thomas called for his wife.
Thomas just looked at Miles with eyes promising retaliation if this was a dud. "Fine. This better work, Beckett."
"Just focus, Thomas."
Nimue began to chant, and her tarot cards floated, turning round in a circle over the basin, which began to glow. He couldn't pick up the words, but Thomas 'and his wife's names were uttered somewhere during the middle of the chant.
When the sorceress finished, her eyes glowed white, as did Morrow's. There was silence for a couple of minutes before Thomas uttered a single word. "Isabella?"
The liquid in the basin rippled before turning clear white, and the visage of a woman appeared. "Thomas? Is that you, dear? What is happening?"
"We summoned your spirit so you may converse with your husband."
Thomas wasn't still sure about how real this soul-summoning séance was and decided to test his wife. "Tell me, what flowers did I bring you for our first date?"
Isabella rolled her eyes. "Nothing, because I have a pollen allergy."
"My god, it is you." Thomas began to cry, for the first time in a long while.
But Nimue warned him they couldn't keep Isabella's soul here for a long time, and he had to speak now.
"I—I just wanted to say that I am sorry."
"Thomas, you have nothing to apologize for. You couldn't have known about the fire." Isabella's tone was gentle, which further broke Thomas' heart, his past choices weighing heavy on his soul.
"But…"
"No buts, mister; what happened, happened, and I don't want you to blame yourself over it."
Thomas nodded, swallowing the knot in his throat, before explaining his actions following her death.
Isabella was silent for a while, absorbing the bullshit her husband had gotten up to in more than sixty years.
"Could you ever forgive me?" Thomas didn't know whether he was asking forgiveness for failing to save her or for the crimes he committed.
Isabella shook her head. "Thomas, it's not me whom you have to apologize to, but all the people you hurt." She was dead for decades, and while his actions did disappoint her, it wasn't her place to forgive him.
"I understand."
The water rippled, and Isabella's reflection got blurry. "It's time for her to go; any longer and her soul could be cast adrift."
Thomas nodded, tears gathering in his eyes, and Isabella left with some parting words. "You have a great mind, Thomas; use it for good, and remember, I will always love you."
—
All six of them agreed that watching an old man cry over his wife was a heartbreaking sight, even if it was a villain like Thomas O. Morrow.
"Come on, Thomas, let's get you out of here for some fresh air."
"Just leave me be." Thomas seemed all too willing to drown himself in his tears, but Miles wouldn't let him off so easily.
"Now, now, remember what Isabella said. You still have time to leave a better world than the one you found, and wallowing here in your pity won't be conducive to that."
Thomas didn't object, but he didn't resist as Miles and Claire gently dragged him out of the base.
—
Once outside the base, Claire handed over the promised payment to Madame Nimue, and she left with her companions.
Miles and the girls took Thomas to sit in the shade of a tree, giving him time to face his renewed grief.