The older model American built pick-up truck weaved in and out of the busy afternoon traffic. Exiting the interstate, the rebuilt engine let loose a loud rumble before the vehicle took the ramp and merged into the multilane road that wove its way through Midway City's downtown. Inside sat a scowling man who held a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel all the while cursing under his breath to himself. While he supposed he should be lucky he wasn't facing jail time, court-ordered anger management was far from high on his list of priorities on his day off.

These days the driver tried to spend as little time in the city proper as he could. The world had certainly changed in the last five years, ever since the blue pyjama-wearing-boy scout the media had dubbed 'Superman' had literally flown onto every television screen in North America. Before that, it felt the world had never had to worry about a 'super-villain', the bad guys in movies were still Germans, Russians and gang bangers. Now the world had to worry about inter-dimensional starfish and hive minds attacking New York every other Wednesday. It wasn't the driver's fault he was angry about it, everyone should have been upset by it, thoroughly enraged even.

Problems used to be solved by the guy with the bigger gun, now problems were solved by the guy with the bigger team of metahumans at their disposal. First came the Justice League, then came S.H.I.E.L.D. with their Avengers. What happened when either one of those teams decided to seize power for themselves, what happens when the Justice League decides they want to be the 'Justice Lords'.

Ruled over by a man dressed as a rodent.

Not on my watch.

"Carter Hall?"

The driver had been so caught up in his thoughts, the rest of the drive had disappeared. Snapping back to reality he found himself sitting in a semi-circle with several other adults, each looking about as happy about where they were as he was inwardly feeling.

"Mr. Hall, unfortunately as this is your third time attending, I do need you to actually speak or else I can't sign off on your court papers."

It was as though Carter had been on auto-pilot. One moment he had been in his truck and the next here. He scarcely remembered parking the vehicle, let alone entering the building, taking a seat or even where the piping hot cup of coffee firmly grasped in his right hand came from. The out of body experience was something Carter was all too familiar with. Visions of other lives regularly haunted his slumbering mind. Worlds, languages and experiences he could have never known, never imagined vividly came to him while he tossed and turned only to wake in the morning with no clear thought of where they came from nor any sort of rest. Even now the heavy bags hung under his eyes which no doubt prompted his unconscious need for coffee.

"One moment," Carter replied breaking the heavy silence that hung over the room while the other individuals tried with no avail to not awkwardly stare at the man who seemingly just came out of a trance. Taking a long sip of the sobering beverage in his hand, it took almost all of Carter's willpower to not rear back in disgust. The burnt taste of overcooked cheap grinds invaded every corner of his mouth, prompting him to swallow hard and fast. The scorching liquid searing every inch down the back of his throat. With a slight sputter, he placed the styrofoam cup on the ground, before standing. Crossing the semi-circle of chairs in a few strides, Carter position himself behind the podium the counsellor had previously held.

Gazing out over the group, Carter realized this was the first time he had ever truly looked over his fellow 'inmates'. It was a small group all said and done, only about five of them. One looked to be exactly the type you'd expect in an anger management session. Neck tattoo, gym and steroid inflated arms, too tight of a tank top clinging beneath a very loud jacket. The man next to him was the polar opposite. Glasses, a rumpled business suit and a tie that was clearly too tight. Another was a young woman who looked barely out of high school. Her eyes darted from the floor to the clock adorning the wall. Her left leg shook while she chewed the end of a pen held to her lips between two fingers, clearly in need of a hit of nicotine.

That left only two others. Another male with absolutely nothing remarkable about him, if Carter had to guess why the fourth figure was here, he'd go with spousal abuse. It was a shot in the dark, he had no grounds of justification for it. But he knew the type and Mr. Bland screamed it. That left only 'Inmate Number Five'.

She was stunning. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but there was something about her that immediately took Carter's breath away. Well dressed, prim and poised; obviously white collar which led to several questions about why on Earth she'd be in anger management. Red hair spilled over her shoulders, outlining the angular features of her face. A pair of piercing green eyes were raised to meet Carter's own gaze, they were fierce and full of life as they stared back defiantly, seemingly glowing in comparison to her radiant olive skin.

"Mr. Hall? Uh, you actually need to speak."

Carter shook his head, breaking the staring contest with the captivating woman. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smirk.

Suddenly, he didn't hate this group quite as much.