Jason was asleep.
Not because he wanted to be, and not because he was particularly tired in the normal sense. He just was.
Feeling nothing, as it turned out, was exhausting.
Mentally draining. Physically numbing. And worst of all, it left behind a hollowness that echoed even in rest. His dreams were gray and silent. A never-ending sea of stillness that didn't quite qualify as sleep. Not truly. But it was the closest thing he had to peace.
Occasionally, when he cried—not out of sadness, but instinct—it helped. Just a little. It was strange: he had no desire to cry, yet something in his new baby body needed to. Something… forced him.
Each wail was both an outburst and a relief. Every tear was like tapping a valve that barely let the pressure escape.
And the Ring?
It pulsed constantly. A dull, gray glow that bled into the shadows, like some quiet heartbeat of grief. It wasn't hurting him. Not directly. But it was doing something.
Changing him.
Tethering to him.
Or maybe… feeding.
He had a new playmate lately: Hal Jordan.
The Lantern known as the "space cowboy," the swaggering daredevil of Sector 2814, and—much to everyone's surprise—a certified Baby Whisperer.
Hal was, by almost every metric, horribly irresponsible with children. At least older ones. He once accidentally taught a six-year-old how to hotwire a spaceship during a rescue mission. But babies?
Hal had the magic touch.
Jason didn't laugh much. But the first time Hal held him upside down by his ankles (gently, of course) and made airplane sounds, a strange sound came out of Jason's mouth.
A weak chuckle.
Barely more than a hiccup—but it was something.
Mark had been there, and ever since, he'd made it his personal mission to pull laughter out of Jason at least once a day. He recruited Hal into his crusade, and together they tried every trick in the book: peekaboo, dancing, goofy faces, sock puppets, alien noises. The works.
One day, they took it a step further.
"Operation: Giggle Monster," Mark declared.
The plan? Tickling.
It started gentle. Just under Jason's tiny feet. Then his belly. His sides.
He squirmed. Kicked. His lips trembled.
Then—
"Ah...haha...ah!"
Laughter.
Pure, honest, uncontrollable baby laughter.
Jason laughed harder than ever before.
And then, it happened.
His Ring glowed.
A surge of pale gray light flared from his chest, filling the room with a momentary pulse of raw emotional force. The walls flickered, the lights dimmed—and then Jason's laughter cut off.
He started crying. Hard.
The joy was gone. The relief stolen. His body shivered, as if it had been shocked back into stillness.
The warmth of laughter had somehow… triggered the Ring to drain it.
Jason sobbed uncontrollably, his fists clenched tight, kicking out like something invisible had hurt him.
Mark backed up, panicked. "What did we do?! I—I didn't mean to—!"
Hal's grin faded as he watched the Ring flicker and fade back to normal.
He rubbed his chin. "Huh… I think I know what's going on."
Mark blinked, wiping his face. "W-What? What do you mean?"
Hal stood, pacing slightly. "The Ring. It's emotional-based, obviously. That whole pulse just now? That was it feeding. Latching onto the high of laughter—and then draining it."
"Feeding?" Mark echoed. "You mean… like a parasite?"
"Bingo," Hal said grimly. "And it's doing more than just reacting. It's manipulating. Suppressing. Keeping him stuck in this numb emotional state because it needs that control."
Mark's voice cracked. "So... he's like this all the time? Because of the Ring?"
Hal nodded. "I think so."
Mark looked down at Jason—still crying now, trying to breathe through baby gasps—and felt his heart break.
"How do we get it off?" he asked, his voice rising.
"You don't," Hal said flatly.
Mark whipped toward him. "What do you mean, you don't?!"
"Look," Hal said, holding up his hands, "you think I haven't tried? The Ring's fused to him. I tried scanning it. The damn thing's got defensive layers I've never seen. It's not just bonded—it's part of him now. If we rip it off, we could hurt him. Or worse."
Mark's face crumpled. "So he's stuck like this?"
Hal didn't respond at first.
He sighed. "It's unknown tech. It's not a Guardian-made Ring. There's no Oan code. No standard failsafe. We don't even know what kind of energy source this Ring uses. It's beyond me."
Mark turned away, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. "That's so sad…"
The moment he said that, the Ring pulsed again, echoing with Mark's sorrow.
Jason, in response, burst into tears anew.
Even louder.
Even sadder.
Hal's eyes widened. "Woah—Mark, back up. You're feeding it too."
"I didn't mean to!" Mark cried. "I—I just feel bad! He's a baby, and he can't even feel right!"
Jason's eyes were filled with tears, his sobs now bordering on hiccupping gasps. But then—
"M-m-mmm… maaa… M-m-mah…"
Hal's head whipped toward Jason. "Wait."
Jason gurgled, shuddering, and tried again through the sobs.
"M-m-Mark… s-sowwy…"
Mark froze.
His eyes widened, his mouth falling open.
Hal crouched low beside him. "Did he just…?"
Jason sniffled.
"Sowwy… M-m-marrk."
Mark's hands flew to his mouth. His knees hit the carpet. "H-His first word—was me?!"
Jason kept crying, his little voice squeaking out with every sob, trying to say sorry again and again, like it would undo the sadness he'd caused.
Mark leaned in, nose brushing Jason's. "Hahaha! You little punk… that's the best thing anyone's ever said to me!"
Hal smiled, more gently now. "At least we know his brain's developing. That's more than I expected."
"Do you think… he knows what he's saying?" Mark whispered.
"No," Hal admitted. "But it's in there. The awareness. It's deep. His brain is working. His emotions are trying to fight back. But the Ring's got its claws in deep."
Jason hiccupped, blinking slowly, exhausted by his own outburst.
Hal reached for the baby bottle from the nearby couch cushion, popped the cap, and gently tilted it into Jason's mouth.
The reaction was immediate.
Jason stilled.
The warmth of the milk hit his tongue, his eyes fluttered, and his sobs turned into soft little hums of satisfaction. His body relaxed in Hal's arms as he drank, his tiny fingers still clinging to Mark's sleeve.
"See?" Hal said softly. "No matter how weird, how powerful… end of the day, he's still a baby."
Mark looked at Jason in awe.
"I'm gonna take care of you," he whispered. "I promise. No matter what that Ring does… I'll be here."
Hal gave Mark a pat on the back. "We'll figure it out. I've seen weirder stuff turn out okay. We just need to… teach him properly."
Mark wiped his face. "Like what? Emotion class?"
Hal chuckled. "Nah. Just life. Time. Let him grow. Help him learn. Keep the vibes good. Treat the Ring like a grumpy dog—don't startle it, and feed it positive energy when you can."
Mark laughed weakly. "Grumpy dog. Got it."
Jason finished the bottle and let out a small burp.
A tiny smile curled at the edge of his mouth.
Not quite laughter.
But close.
Later that night, Nolan watched from the hallway as Mark curled up beside Jason's crib, exhausted. Hal was dozing on the couch, arms crossed, snoring softly. Debbie had gone upstairs hours ago.
And Jason?
He slept.
Peacefully.
Not emotionally empty, but not overwhelmed either.
Just... asleep.
The Ring hummed softly. Calm. Contained.
Nolan stared.
He didn't trust the Ring. He didn't trust the emotions it stirred. But Jason...
Jason was his now.
And more than that?
Jason was still fighting.
Even if he didn't understand it yet.
Nolan crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing.
"Let's see how long you can hold him back," he murmured to the Ring. "You may be bonded. But he's not yours."
Not while I'm around.