§tain | chapter eight ~ "I didn't ask for your fucking soul"

~ Monster - kanye ~

A moment of hesitant silence followed. Dick's dark-brown eyes filled with a profound vacancy, and Jade found it difficult to depict. She sat in her chair, slouched.The frustration dressed in her face as her nails tapped the smooth surface of the table, fueled by her impatience, while her hazel eyes shone brightly and wildly under the poor-lighting of her room. Speedy. She had to think fast. For as long as he knows Jade, Dick accounted her for the tricks she pulled and how easily she flaunted seduction like a skin-tight dress worn as a mere form of disfigurement all to undermine an individual's strong will or how lies effortlessly sailed past her lips, making one bend or break to her advantage. To Jade, you were a toy she'd heavily favor like a toddler but opted to fracture by her pudgy, heedless hand. Because she wasn't anything short of an opportunist seeking and seizing moments that put her above her enemies.

Gotham opened her eyes once; made her see the importance of both life and death, but learned most of all to take whatever she wanted, rather than waiting for her to fall to her feet and risk others taking it. She played things safe during the time she spent in that city. Kept survival as her primary goal while striving to maintain a stable income so that she and her little sister would live to see another day. But her precaution knew no bounds, twisting and turning to directions considered precarious. Before Jade realized it, everything had treacherously crumbled beneath her, and with that she had fallen. Fell off a towering skyscraper, her hopes bewilderingly uneven, ground; creating a crater of salt and ashes.

Jade laid in her mess for some time, withering miserably at how she lost it all at once. She rose from it not before she fell, but with a purpose. One that she has yet to fulfill. Years of living a worldly life once more put a damper on her entire perspective and almost made Jade forget that purpose (the reason she became Stain.) Seeing him parading in that God's awful costume on TV drew her from her reverie; a newfound sense of determination sparked a fire that longing extinguishment. The world might have forgotten the name Stain, but once she's through with their precious little Robin, they will.

All Jade needs is a solid plan-a full-proof one that ensures victory. She was looking at the supposedly ex-hero. His face settled back into its neutral facade, hiding any emotion that had dared to ensue. But hide as they may, Dick could never shy away from his despair. It revealed to her, appetizing as a ruby red apple, all plump and juicy; ripe for taking. And Jade was happy about taking it, too. Soon after she did, the ex-hero killer would crush that despair in her hand and watch the sweet goodness, like warm sticky blood, ooze from the inside out. 

Her eyes were downcast, training on her tapping fingers. Their rhythm is an infallible imitation of her steady heartbeat. A sensation of desensitization sprang through the tips, stilting her thinking. Jade smiled, her bow-shaped lips, cracked as they were, bled in dry, patchy places. She licked them. In her scheme she already triumphed, but still had to make her strategy. Dick shifted upon her sights. She sensed and recognized his ingoing discomfort. After brief moments of traded glances and stillness, time went by.

Jade finally said, "I didn't ask for your fucking soul, did I?" She lifted her eyes and settled them on him. Dick opened his mouth, canting his head for words, but nothing came. He closed it and hid his face, covering his flushed cheeks. He did not like her proclivity to bug him. Usually, Jade would have an exuberant smile when she did. Well, though, not now. No, no. She was being serious right now.

Her grin turned into a tight-lipped grimace. "Either accept my offer or don't. Leave empty-handed and risk losing your wretched-ass friends for all I care." she said and shrugged as if she really meant them. Reluctance stirred for half a minute in those cold, brown eyes where deep pain gnawed at his being. Uncertainty weighed heavily, burdening his usually neutral front. But she watched him tremble, feeling that not even he, all-knowing, could register. She felt his desire to scream. At last, a lifetime of pent-up anger would be free, relinquishing its obligation to withhold his emotions for the sake of his sanity. But he glanced over her shoulder through his fingers and looked at Rachel. 

One decision rested solely on him and determines the fate of this poor teen. Rachel came and pleaded for his mercy. To keep her safe from a world out there, to see her dead. And he promised her with every bone in his body-the fiber of his being- his last breath to protect her. It doesn't matter the cause. He sighed and finally came to a resolution. Dick's eyes fell back on Jade, looking both sure and uncertain at once. Jade gawked at him, expecting what she knew was coming. Yet she played the ever-curious eyes glittering like precious gold. He rattled his hand through his untamed mops of chestnut curls and breathed out.

"Fine."

"And so it begins," she said breathlessly with a bemused smile.

"What begins?"

"Our deal," she replied. "We have yet to complete it."

Hearing those words creased his forehead. Each wrinkled line suggested interminable nights gone without proper rest and a muddled mind overrun by impending thoughts. Dark and mentally harrowing. Dick wasn't anything except a worried soul. Troubled. Overwhelmed by his own torturing brain. The aspect might have seemed low-brow - a concerning scratch you'd discover on a surface worthy of attention. But Jade saw this as a rope of opportunity awaiting when she would tie around her waist and let it pull her to safety. His eyes widened, realization hitting him as a book chucked at his face and he just discovered the source from which it came.
"Oh." he leaned forward and offered his hand. A shake to seal their deal.

Jade wasn't taking it. She stayed seated, a perfectly arched brow of the ex-hero killer lifted, baffled. Her eyes moved from there, then back to the retired sidekick, after those brief seconds of silence. She had him by the jaw until he could completely comprehend what was going on. Sharp black nails-like claws-breaking the skin as she brought it close enough to her lips. Hers, dry as the Sahara Desert, grew dangerously close. He could feel her warm breath fanning his face, even the smirk curling it. He swallowed slowly as she turned his head slightly, gaining access to his ear. "That's not how this works, birdie," she whispered. 

"If you think I'm just going to sit here and take your word for it, then you are sorely mistaken. Your word means shit. I leaned that lesson last time." Jade heard him swallow again. The guilt, it spoke to her like a second voice dying for attention. Her smirk doubled in size, stretching far and wide into a smile that made her cheeks hurt. Lips brushing the shell of his ear. A kiss of death waiting to collect its due. "If we do this, we're doing it my way."

she shoved him back into his chair.

"We'll perform a blood oath," she said once resettling back into her seat.

"Excuse me?" Dick held up a finger. "Time out." he pantomimed the shape with his hands. "I don't think I heard you come correctly the first time could you repeat that?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head, long braids withering like coiled snakes. "You did. I said. 'blood oath'."

"Blood oath?" He repeated incredulously.

"Yes. If you were to help each other, then we must enlist a bond that'll solidify a more..." She trailed off, her head turned up, eyes roving the ceiling for the right words. "... how do you say... trustworthy bargain?"

Her slight edge for detail did little to clear up the mess of confusion she caused. He peered at her through slits, detecting something fishy about this so-called 'oath', but part of him yearned for more clarification. "Meaning?"

"Meaning... we do the blood oath," she said indignantly. "Damn, what part of that does your bird-brain not understand? A child could grasp this."

"How do I know whether if I can trust you?" He asked. "Especially after everything and now. How do I know this isn't some trick?"

She was right. He couldn't trust her. He shouldn't. That had shortly established since the moment she first duped him and for her after he left her for dead on that god-damned bridge. Trust was long lost between the two amongst many other things. "This bond is blood-bound and can't break least the sayer will face consequences."

"Consequences? What consequences?"

She ignored him. "The oath is sacred. Belonging to the most powerful and ancient demon of all." She paused at his face, now white and pale and like marble. Hard and stone.

"You can't mean-"

Saying Jade had lost her mind was an understatement for what uttered past her lips. The woman was mad. Too far gone. Insane. She must be if she thought he would perform a blood sealing ritual- a trickster demon's at that - to appease her wariness. There must be another way.

"There isn't." Jade spoke, knowing exactly what went through his mind. "If you want my help, we do the ritual."

Ambience sank its fangs in him like a venomous spider. Stubborn. He could be stubborn and find better alternatives (less likely to kill them). He had done it before, and he could do it again. Dick found Jade's gaze. Hope enacted on the spot, but deflated as soon as he realized that didn't offer a lot of favors last time. The price he paid for acting irrationally was too high and cost him the little he had left in his life.

 Something he loved and was unwilling to let slip past his fingers. He fought for it, believed, despite his doubts and his credulity, that it was powerful enough. That it could have conquered all. This he most cherished was like a flower devoid of sunshine, and it became dry and brittle, then crumpled. Leaving behind a pile of distilled, vague hope. And no longer carried a hypnotizing beauty pleasing to the eye or a scent that left a person breathless which eased minds or coated tongues with desires embedded in a wistful heart. His lips were tight. The thought dared to waste their time. Dick gave her a curt nod. "All right."

"Excellent choice." Jade appraised and snapped her fingers, producing a sound of resonance. Unmistakably clear, like breaking a bone or cracking a whip. It froze the air, and, like a block of ice, time, it dissolved into itself, becoming a shapeless puddle of dissolution. At the blink of an eye, the living room and the kitchen, gone. Rachel, too. A room made up of brick walls and polished concrete floors blurred in view. Dick's face almost planted on the ground when his chair disappeared along with everything else. He caught himself before he could, throwing his hand out as his body met the hard concrete, then rolled onto his back all in one breath. From this position, he glanced at his new surroundings, taken by the disconcerting change of scenery.

"Where are we?" He demanded while climbing to his feet and brushed away nonexistent dirt off his clothes.

"Training room." She said. "No one except us can witness this transaction." 

Training room, huh? It couldn't have been. This place was uncomfortably large, the size of a hotel lobby. With enough room to fit dozens of people, though, he's doubting it would be welcome. Imperfect, with atmospheric indifference and dimly lit. Empty of any kind of equipment. Looking down between them, a pinnacle (the perfect match for the one on her neck) covered most of the floor space, black and freshly painted. An eel-like queasiness wormed inside his stomach and made him sick.

"Algernon was once a man who lived in a tiny village near the sea, notoriously by the people as a gagman." Jade began, voice clear. "His tricks were often harmless: Switching a farmer's livestock with another's, substituting oil for the village's wine, and smacking whoever crossed his path with a wet fish. Sometimes, he'd receive a laugh or two here and there but primarily earned scathing glances from fuming farmers who lost their prized cows or bursts of anger out of those with reddened cheeks and faces rancid with fish smell. 

Because of the reactions his clever mind and unpredictability caused, Algernon upheld himself to supercilious standards. Arrogant with a puffed chest full of pride, he never accounted himself for anything. And he darkened in the villager's eyes. Years passed, and he began noticing the meager responses his pranks typically aroused. The villager's grokked them through in that time, finding he incessantly committed changeless acts and effortlessly avoided them. Algernon realized this, that his feat had grown cold and overcame with discouragement."

"One day, whispers dark as coal, repeatedly advised he should up the ante and try his hand at riskier high jinks. God spoke to him and said "Do not listen to the whispers for they are your temptation wanting to lead you to sin against me." Algernon heeded his warning and ignored the whispers and their death-defying suggestions, but only for so long until they festered and drove him mad. He finally submitted to them in hopes they might cease their eclipsal carnage. First, he tied a flour sack to the front door of the baker's shop and it knocked his younger daughter out unconscious when she stepped outside to play following countless hours of kneading dough. He felt a euphoric rush unlike before melting in his core. No one laughed or spared glances and that, along with this foreign feeling, made Algernon crave for more. He played even more tricks after that, each one deadlier than the last, succumbing his disposition as slowly, a malicious part of him surfaced. 

This last trick was an accident. However, meant to startle the village priest, the situation had somehow spiraled out of his control. On the way to a service, the Preist fell into a ditch Algernon dug the night before and covered with leaves. Being old and frail, he had died upon impact; broken tree roots at the bottom snapping his neck. God had saw what he had done, angry he said, "You did not heed my warning of the whispers and deliberately disobeyed me. For that I punish you." A mark burned into his chest, resting over his heart. A star inside a circle, "You will now become the monster you have always been. A creature bearing no heart nor soul. Not of the dirt, but of fire and ash. Lacking of a moral conscience and insatiable with a hunger. Algernon underwent an abhorring transformation. 

The mark God bequeathed burned away his heart and soul, leaving behind an empty shell which his raging darkness shortly manifested and took form. What had once been a man now stood an inhuman creature with pale skin and dead, cold eyes? God cast him to hell where, unbeknownst to him, Lucifer was waiting. There the devil anointed Algernon, the first demon. A trickster permitted to whatever he pleased under his rule." 

An awful chill licked at his skin and numbed him to his bones. The story was not in the Bible. Any Christian in their right mind would have shut it down as soon as it was told, claiming how ridiculous it sounded. But Dick, out of most people, knew it was true firsthand. Jade has been living proof. Like Algernon, she bore a mark on her neck. Every bit of a monster like him. Overall, hearing the story left a sensuous impression on the retired sidekick. Whether he recounted it aloud, it still raised his hair on his arms. The hook it baited would snare Dick forever, reeling him to the surface where the hellish world waited to cut short his breath.

"We're coming together tonight to carry out his rite and cement our contract." Jade raised her hand in a circle and the fire ignited alive, setting the pinnacle alit. His eyes followed the line of flame that came to a stop in front of him. The sharp, heady smell of incense split the air and pierced his nostrils as he inhaled a deep breath. Forced to look up at Jade, dancing shadows produced from the fire blurred some of her features, but her glowing left eye was clear. A beacon, but not a sign of hope. It promised only evil.

"Again, no ritual is complete without a pension." The knife materialized in her hand. "We have to draw blood-three drops," she said. He took it up by the hilt, turning it around. He looked more closely; it was no lighter than a kitchen blade, but stainless steel, carved in an ancient script with a jagged edge. The hilt had a ruby-encrusted center, looking so red that he almost mistook it for blood. Threads of doubt were once again pulling at him. Dick struggled to keep his trembling hand as he raised the glowing knife over his palm. He could change his mind, knowing that once he had slit it, he wasn't going back. Payment is payment, you can't redraw what was due.

"Come on, bird boy." Jade snarled, irritated. "Put aside your damn pride for just a damn minute and concentrate on what really matters right now."

He remained at a standstill, torn between going through with this ritual or walking away. In despite of the lives of his ex-teammates hanging in the balance. He didn't need to look at Jade to know she was rolling her eyes at his unresponsive state.

"You know, there's a lot of other stuff that I should do with my time, rather than waste it to save your pitiful ass buddies." That made him glare in her direction, where she now turned her attention to her chipping nails (which desperately needed a re-coat). She came across his hard look as laughter painted on her lips. "Well?" Jade asked, tilting her head as her eyes filled with that awful gleam.

"They're not my buddies," he said, and then he cut his hand open without missing a beat. Crimson suddenly poured like a torrent of water that pierced the unknown. A secret promise of transformation ready to fall over the edge. Dick was in control of the moment, and for a second he was numb. Unfeeling of any emotion that dared all things. Reverie rushed through him, blanching in the middle of reality and fantasy. He held it in his clenched fist before he could break away and squeeze it. There were three generous drops in the ring of fire. The ruby blinked crimson, his blood staining the blade fading to expose the steel underneath.

"Somehow you cannot disappoint me, birdie." Jade purred.

"Yeah, yeah." he tossed her the knife. "You just hold up your end of the deal."
She grasped it and slit her hand in a single swoop. "How can I forget?" she gave her blood to the fire, her face pinched with an unknown resolve.

Afterwards, the knife puffed, emerging into a cloud of red mist. Jade slipped back into her role seamlessly, leading the ritual. Any trace of the pleasure she wore, like a glove attached, disappeared completely. "Repeat after me." Her eyes were closed as she chanted in another language. The words sounded dead on her tongue, but they reverberated through the walls with devious echoes as her voice grew low and heavy. But she stopped as soon as she realized that Dick was not recanting as he supposed to.

Her shoulders fell, and she opened an eye. "What now?"

"I don't know how to do... demon talk." he shrugged, clueless what to do about it. 

"Close your eyes and let it come to you." was all she said, but no more. She was over his means to keep this ritual from happening.

"But-"

"Just do it." She snapped, and then he shut up. Not wanting to see more of her unpleasant side than he's already had. Jade chanted again, and Dick followed as she asked. As he closed his eyes, so did his mind. Clear, concentrated. Warmth spread through him as though the fire had burned away all his fears, leaving only something he could succumb to. Understand that. It was good, and unlike anything that his brilliant intellect could fathom. Then he noticed it-a fragment he thought was missing. What he's been looking for his entire life. It gave him a rest, and he, it. Anchoring it in place and never having to let it go. Just like Dick didn't want to let it go, too. Before he realized it, his eyes shot open, and Jade grinned at him, holding her wicked smile. Bone white teeth, sharp and defiant. "It is complete."

Blistering pain sears his palm at her words, as if someone had poured boiling water over his hand. Without meaning to that, his body bends over into a fetal position - something primordial, and all the while the pain consumes and emanates throughout his system. All feels scolded and, move or not, he was in more agony than he could have thought. A shot to the head would have been much more generous compared to the moment. The sensation rises in waves, with a little lullaby offering simulated hope of an end. Each pinnacle robs his ability to speak and sends him crashing down to the concrete floor. The only thing Dick could do was squirm. The occasional whimper escaped to resound from the walls. It stopped after that. Jade stood over him, squatting down, examining him with a troubled expression on her face.

"Geez." she said. "You act as though you've never had a brand before?"

Astonished at what she claimed, he looked down at his hand. A star in a circle now where he cut open his palm. A symbol to delineate their blood-bound agreement. So as it appeared, their transaction was complete.

~

Dawn Granger realized she couldn't trust her feelings, because they were like fleeting bubbles. Spheres of rainbow colors spinning and moving and floating gently on a warm summer breeze. Drifting up and down, then fleeing only to stretch out in the sun and finally burst into a tiny stream of soap, along with those brief moments of unfailing pleasure. Words, however, could not explain what she felt at that bitter moment when her eyes found the last person she ever thought she would see again, occupying their twenty-four inch flat screen TV. Her emotions came in waves; shock, rage, sorrow. Seeing the truth, she gave little to no chance for Dawn to gather herself. To pop those bubbles. 

It rattled her, however. More so than a ship sailing in the sea, but amid a violent storm and being exposed, she left vulnerable to mother nature's vicious attack. Sure enough, before she could know it, her ship was sinking after the reality had hit her like a lightening blast. And even though she tried to stand her ground, her life re-emerged in the nightmare she had wrought, and Dawn drowned in the depths of the black ocean. Damned to fix all of it. Immediately after she said what she had to say, she went to the kitchen. Though, hoping that her words would discourage any stupid action that dared to cross their minds, but mostly so that she could hide her rattled state.

Dick, as always, came to console her. Unlike Hank, who was inconspicuously oblivious sometimes, he understood when she was distressed, or at least tried not to be. Dawn turned her back when she heard his footsteps approaching. Yeah, it was years ago that everything had gone to hell, and years ago that her ingoing suffering had begun, prolonging the agony it had inflicted. Yet all of it was still raw and bleeding for her. 

An internal wound that has never healed. She didn't want him to comfort her, or to see her eyes gleaming with watery tears. But tried as she could, her trembling figure seemed hard to conceal. She never allowed herself to behave like this-to expose her inner turmoil to others who did not understand it-but Dawn understood that her suffering wasn't something she had to face alone. Even though she still omitted exactly what bothered her.

"Dawn?" He asked with a voice full of worry. She knew that his firm hand on her shoulder wanted to protect her, although she felt like the world would collapse around her. It acted as a silent invitation to spread her grief to him. That his shoulder was there should she ever need it.
There was a time she had. Dawn never told him anything that burdened her in particular, but she fell apart in her arms. Allowing herself to grieve them in silence, but in the presence of someone she trusted, and who never questioned. 

Not even the slightest thing. It was simpler than expressing her thoughts. Feeling and sorrow came so easily and felt less alien and daunting. Because of this, she was still in charge, taking the reins and steering in any direction she thought appropriate. It wasn't the past, though. They weren't together anymore. Now, Dawn had little control. Still, the pale blond pulled from his grasp, but kept her back to him.

"I meant what I said, Dick." she told him.

"I know you did." Yet something else suggested in his voice. It showed her how much he didn't want to hear her. He had a tendency to behave without thinking about it. It was part of his concept-part of who he was as a human. Dawn recalled that she once assumed that such an attribute had developed an outstanding character and made him a decent chief. But then, she knew how wrong she was. As much as she cared for him, Dick Grayson was as imperfect as she and everyone else in the world. Rash in his actions, fueled by his sentiments. It's never been individualism, but a soul strayed.

"Forget her." She was pressing. "A person like Jade Carter is not worth trading your life for. Mind, this isn't the first time you've made such a mistake." He said nothing, which was all right because what she said didn't need an answer. Dawn eventually turned to face him. "Keep your heart out of this and focus on what's important," she said.
.
.
.
In the meantime, Dawn locked herself in the bathroom and stood before the medicine cabinet glowering at its reflective surface. Her hands were grasping either side of the sink, holding on to it as if for a dear life. All she had locked away, years worth, exploded in her as she met her reflection. This face, she realized, looking back at her, had an intensity unlike any other. Every groove and line, the eyes, the ears, the nose and the mouth, spelled out an unbreakable arsenal ready at arms. But as she went on staring, she wavered shortly after passing moments of tense silence. Crumbling to the shards of nil. 

Her eyes were pooling tears.She brushed them away, ripped from her own debilitating foundation, and it wasn't long before the tears burst into sobs she couldn't hold back. They buckled her legs and weighted her down. At that moment, however, it seemed like gravity itself had given up on Dawn. It's just like she gave up on everything else. She sought to remind herself, over and again, how badly she felt. How little warmth, ease, or reassurance they got. It was bubbles. Bubbles, man. She's meant to break them. Break them, or else you will suffer this agony. But the more she tried, the less she could do it. For now, after all this time, Dawn let her grief flow.

But no one was present but her and her reflection with a piquant face meant for a powerful woman. When she realized they spent her, she tugged back her sorrow and brushed away her tears, but smudged her mascara. This was the moment she wanted. Need to allow herself to feel insecure and frightened. And she felt different now, but just a little. Not whole. Dawn was shaking, and while she didn't want to turn her attention away from her own. She looked down. Her eye caught a small dish filled with marbles. They were tiny and round with swirls of red, blue and yellow. Picking up one of them, it laid in her palm. It was partly cold to touch and numb until her body warmed it completely.

The tiny object caught up in the light as she raised it up and brought out a certain meaning that you thought it would never have had. Dawn continued to study the marble, trying to place it until she remembered the day she and Hank signed the lease papers for the apartment. They went out to Dollar Tree for supplies, not all out, just a quick DIY makeover for their new home. Back then, they didn't have a lot of money, so Hank had his heart set out to make the place more comfortable with their taste by incorporating their personal touch. They were scavenging the store's aisles with nothing but a twenty-dollar budget and fool-hardy grins.
Immediately, he stopped on a part of a shelf filled with bags full of marbles.

 They were nothing remarkable or deserving of their attention, but Hank took one and weighed it in his hand. As if it had been a decision. Dawn did not see his expression, because the smile that he had worn disappeared. His sudden change in mood was concerning her. She kept looking at him, expecting him to answer eventually. His eyes stayed heavily focused on the netted bag, and Dawn held her breath. He looked up and slowly a single tear fell down his cheek, but it wasn't one of sadness. He was inept at some unspoken ardor and refused to look away, even as his lips trembled and his shoulders shook with pride. Hank held out the marbles. "This is the beginning, Dawn," he choked. "This is our future."

Correct, it was a blessing. More to their shoddy bathroom, though. This was the only rewarding item in there except the soap that cost a dollar or more per pack. It was good in terms of nostalgia. One of the negligible things she cherished in her life. Too bad she was about to ruin it, just as she ruined all the others. Her eyes met those in the following. Two blue ice chips, clear and easy to understand. They've witnessed all and knew exactly what she would do. Dawn took the marble between her fingertips and placed it on her tongue. It felt odd there, but had no particular taste. She swished it in her mouth while still looking at herself in the mirror, her eyes pooling fresh tears, and swallowed.

~

"Dawn?" The deep voice calling her name sounded far away, but it somehow took her back. Her eyes glazed, remote and silent, blinking; coming to. During that moment, she retreated inside herself. It was a place that she always went whenever fear took its toll. Fear that she's almost never returned. Somehow, her lover cracked the bond between body and mind, freeing her from a state of apprehension. He looked at her now, silent and intense, but mostly concerned. Without a doubt, chipping away at her neutrality as if she were an ice sculpture being shaped into an image of his own understanding. She swallowed hard, looking at it. 

"Still here?" 

Was she? She could tell her face seemed anything but persuasive from the expression of his face. Her lower lip stuck between her teeth. A nervous tick, but she still nodded."Yeah. Right behind you, Hawk." she topped that off with a megawatt smile. A second passed, then another before a smirk converted his lips.

 "Good. For a second there I thought you'd gone down the rabbit hole, Alice." His words were strenuous, sarcastic, and innocuous. Much like a dreary wave on the matter. But as soon as they moved on, she would note the poor looks he had sent, the worry written on each furrowed brow, and the creases on his forehead. Dawn realized that it'd had been a test to see if she was honest? 

This wasn't the first time that she retreated within, showed indifference, or brushed aside talking about her feelings. Occasionally, Hank asked, and every time she said she was all right. Usually, he's willing to let it go. Leave it be. But not this time. With her doing it again, she failed to note that his concern lies beyond prying. Beyond the earlier comment. Less, however, was a deeper meaning. Whereas he, looking back, filled the gaps. 'Later,' they'd say. 'Later' as they let her know that their conversation wasn't over.

 That he will understand things.Jaw clenched, Dawn pretended not to notice the looks. Resentment blossomed where relief should have. To his credit, he deserved to know the things that bothered her. And as her boyfriend, he had every right to. Was it wrong of her to deny him of that? Sure. Could she try getting her head out of her ass and be a dutiful girlfriend for once by sharing more? Maybe. Such was a possibility. 

But in her defense, she felt he wouldn't get where she was coming from. Men like him rarely do. Not to say she didn't get the occasional image of seeing herself sitting before him and tell him the truth. She allowed herself to cry, too. The uncontrollable sobs, the snot, the weeping, the whole shebang. But he always understood in her mind. Wore a smile and pat her on the back, coaxing her tears, telling her she would be okay. Even if that meant he wasn't. Sadly, it was nothing more than a fantasy which she willed into a reality behind closed doors. She was a tough bitch. And tough bitches never broke down, especially in tight moments when they wanted to so badly. As badly as Dawn yearned to, she refrained from doing so, in despite of his good intentions. For she was glad he didn't press. Her problems were the least of their concerns at the moment. They had bigger fish to fry and a future to fulfill. So she followed him as always. The marble, a pitted guilt in her stomach. 

~ 

It did not take long to enter the empty building. The black van was sitting right where they'd last left it. Days ago, after Dawn rescued Hank. Fifty crates of packed drugs would be in the back waiting for delivery if he was right. Stealthily, he had approached the car. Dawn covered him with eyes checking the rundown place, holding her defensive position. Nothing seemed out of the sort. All that was there were tarps with moats of dust covering everything. Just as she turned slowly, the pale blond still listened intently as Hank pried open the gate. Crates with drugs neatly stacked, as predicted.

 He whipped around, excitedly beaming."Wisconsin, here we come."

Gunshots fired at them. They ducked near the car, as bullets shot into the air, wild and erratic with scorning. Targeting them outside the unseen shooters. They press through, gaining efficiency and less distance than before until when they drew closer and ceased. Men wearing black on black burst from the shadows and fell in line on the cornered pair, aiming their weapons at them. She projected outcomes in her head, in which they emerged unscathed. Consideration of the terms in the number of guards and the exits. 

She was resourceful and clever. Their present situation couldn't be any more different from all the previous threats they faced. But as her eyes scoured the place desperately, her growing hopes diminished to no avail. The only two goddamn exits surrounded by so many gunmen. They have blocked one behind and the other off. It'd be suicide to run. The second, which their enemies suspected in any attempt, they'll die. Hank held her tighter with the reality dawning on her, just as afraid as his lover was. It was only a minute, barely, and their vision gone. 

There strode to them a pair of nice shoes. She looked up to see that it's a man with a swagger that nobody wants to lock eyes, let alone cross with. He looked like a cliche villain from a James Bond movie-a member of Sector at that. Harboring evil plans for making the entire world tremble at his feet. This psycho, however, has a propensity to cut off the genitals of his male victims and then make taxidermy art out of them. Hank could have fallen right into those numbers had she not swooped in and saved his ass. They were lucky then, but now, no amount of luck could save them. 

"Oh, shit." Hank cursed. 

He was icy and hostile when he opened his mouth. "Where were we ... oh, right"His hand stretched out, showing them a pair of sharp pliers-sharp enough to snip through bone. The gardening tool spoke for itself: unfinished business he intended to settle. His face was one of utmost mental instability. Beneath furry brows, his eyes were as direct but unblinking as less than the average person. He allowed what he had in front of them to sink in. Point blank of exactly what he was planning to do to them."I promise this will be the worst and last pain you'll ever feel-" He had just gotten the words out, and then, within the next instant, a silhouette took shape behind him, following a blinding silvery flash.His eyes abruptly enlarged, flummoxed from what registered in them. 

The pliers that he held slackened. At last, he fell onto his stomach with his head rolling across the floor until it finally came to a slow stop at their feet. Blood was constantly pooling from the neck of where it used to be. Dawn shrieked, with a sour taste in her mouth and burning in her throat. Knocking out dangerous individuals wasn't a problem for her, but gore was always something she couldn't do.The silhouette cackled. Close to a bird, gargling broken glass. Dawn recognized it all too well. Jade. Goosebumps peppered on her skin. Shadows surrounding the silhouette have dissolved into a more delectable figure. 

Stepping out into the ribbons of light, a woman revealed, but the hood on her head mostly obscured her face. Still, her first victim's blood slathered across her pale cheek. She also had a scythe, and gripped it in her hand, as if it were a restraint. Her sure gait was at odds with the body suit she was wearing. There was a subtlety to it that did not fit well in the dark and leathery material. There was even a pair of shin-high boots, a black belt inlaid, but more fashion than utility. Her chin rose, and Jade smiled hideously, strutting their way. She stopped in front of the man's decapitated head and caressed his cheek. "Silly rabbit," she cooed. "Trix are for kids." 

He will not be the only life she's taking tonight. His death was only the beginning.

~

20 minutes ago

"So, let me get this straight." Jade rubbed at her aching temples, trying to regain her train of thought, as it had strayed so far from her reach that she had to work to get it back after hearing Dick's explanation of their current matter. She felt as if she was jumping on a fast train heading straight to Looneyville and she wanted nothing more than to get off. The mess that became her mind, though, needed sorting first. "You," she pointed a finger in his direction, making him grimace. "Called your adoptive father's butler and asked if he could lend you some cash, then turned around and talked Dawn into let the girl live with them in Wisconsin. Is that it, huh? We race against time to save their asses so that you can abandon Rachel?"

Dick's fingers drummed on the steering wheel of his Porsche, contemplating whether it was a good idea to respond because Jade could turn it around and make him sound like a bad guy. It wasn't long after they left her apartment and the ex-hero killer had cast a protective barrier over the entire building; they had set out to follow the coordinates of his tracking device that led them right to the couple. He thought to fill her in on the way, but only out of fairness and to pass the time. That was the moment she realized how little he had changed in those years that they'd been apart. It's his words. His deeds. She found a fork in the road, lost and unable to begin with where either path led ... the moment the words left her was the moment the unspeakable warmth engulfed her heart.

 Dark and hardened as it was, deprived of any life or promise or joy that one might often feel, and very much like a lump of coal, a fire so hot burned her from within ... yet the pain was good ... real enough that it reminded her that she was the one in control. "No, no. It's not like that at all." He finally replied, breaking the awkward, tense silence that stretched the air between them thin. "I strongly believe she will be in better hands. Hank and Dawn are amiable people. They will protect her."Jade scoffed and sagged in her seat, flailing like a deflated balloon. "We're still here. How can you expect them to do your job when they can't even thwart a male genital taxidermist, drug dealing maniac, and some goons once, let alone twice? " 

"They are the heroes. Perfectly able to take care of themselves. I'm sure Rachel will be all right." But his eyes rolled at her as she blew a raspberry. "I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and crap out a smarter statement than that, Spokesman." Gone was the teasing and her glinting eyes. What was once an infernal dance in them now bore an idleness; harsh and a biting. Her face contorted entirely of disgust. Disgust towards his plebeian judgement. 

He pretended not to notice it and or the numbness filling his chest. "The only spokesperson is you here." He shot back and offered her his own look, but more unpleasant and honing animosity. 

His words hit home as much as it didn't want to admit, like a hammer on a nail that strikes her. Denying would make her hypocritical, and that for her was worst. She told herself she'd never be that. Compared to Dick, Jade can not bear such a life. She yelled, "Someone should. Because there are people like you around acting like you know what's best for everybody, but you don't." His grip on the wheel tightened, and his knuckles turned white. This tiny little debate was getting out of control. This would be the end if he yelled. She wasn't afraid of him. Jade really did not want to deal with him when he was angry. The statement drew offense."Me, huh? "She tilted her head slightly, glaring at him plaintively. 

"You're the one with the half-cocked schemes, not me. Don't get your little feathers in a bunch, birdboy." 

 Groaning, he ran his hand down his face. It lingered over his mouth, and for a lengthy period he cried a long string of inconsistent curses. Jade watched his mini-meltdown without an expression. Sometimes it's almost impossible for her to understand him when he gets firm or shuts himself in. Concealed his feelings behind the brick wall that he so graciously built that every time she tried to dig deep, she would hit it. The ex-hero killer could not have said that she understood whenever her heart softened for him whenever he did.

Dick was laughing, even though it sounded muffled behind his hand. "You know what," he said, "it doesn't matter." A closed-mouth smile stretched out his face, morphing his features, making him look like a wounded animal on the brink of losing his mind. He took a hard blow to his ego, and now he was recovering. "I know exactly what I'm doing. Exactly," he repeated over and over, as though meant to convince him, not her. As in that moment, uncertainty has shed its light on common sense. But Dick shook his head, undisturbed. "I-I know what I'm doing." 

"Okay, but I still can't say that I'd like to see things from your point of view. My head can't go that far up my ass, unlike you." In that short amount of time, Jade foolishly hoped. Hoped he put aside his damned pride and do the right thing for once. But, as always, he allowed his heroic duty to cloud his judgment. And it wasn't just a flaw in him, it was a flaw in every hero.They were despicable in their belief, indignantly self-righteous, and made themselves judges of the guilty and claiming to protect the innocent. They held the world on their shoulders like people asked, but didn't. And yet, everyone still put their trust in them because they were shiny and ran fast or could fly and shoot lightening from their fingertips and could fly or fight like Bruce Lee or descended from gods and goddesses.

Jade recalled the period of her blindness to it all. Unwilling to see the reality, even though it was right in her face. She was young, head-strong, but most of all desperate to survive. Not knowing better, she followed in the crowd's direction, put her trust in the wrong people, and lost everything.

She turned her head back and faced the lane. "Yeah. Yeah. Just fucking fantastic. I guess that means you will move on and add 'Crushed that girl's spirit' off the old bucket list. I wonder what's next?" She stroked her chin as she was brainstorming alternative ways to ruin the lives of others, and then she snapped her fingers as it suddenly came to her. "I know what. You could roast Santa alive, compel some children to watch, and then piss all over his ashes?"

His brows were furrowing. "Um ... no, no. That's really messed up."

She ignored him. "Better yet, screw Hank and Dawn. Let's contact Bruce to see if he'd like to take care of Rachel." Jade shrugged. "Who knows, she could turn out better than you ever did."

"I'm not arguing with you," he said hurriedly before Jade felt to cut him off again. "I didn't ask for any of your advice. That's the last thing I need. To take life concerning suggestions from a head chopping, throat slitting, entrails spilling psycho killer who likes to wear her victims blood, let alone drink it." Dick fixed her a glare from his periphery.

"Some hero. You're about as disappointing as an unsalted pretzel." She quipped.

"Good, cause I'm no longer one. Can't expect so much from me...and bucket lists are abysmal and irrelevant."

She retorted, "You're abysmal and irrelevant."

"Wow, the middle school comeback. How long did it take you to come up with that one?" His voice dripped heavily with sarcasm, though he was feigning praiseful astonishment. "You gonna shoot the bird at me next? Am I gonna need to get the teacher?"

The taste of her own medicine was a hard pill to take, but Jade did so with pride and dignity. "No, no, you're right," she blew with an exasperated breath. "It's pointless to make fun of you, because it will take you the rest of the night to work it out." She rests her head on the window, her cheek pressed against the cool glass. They slid back into silence. There was much to think about, years of separation and unanswered questions, still a hanging thread spread between them.

~

"Hurry." Jade struck the driver's side window of his Porsche. She dropped back into the passenger seat and muttered as she brushed hair out of her face. "Putting on a cape shouldn't take you ages."

Upon her words, the door yanked open with such force meant to come right off its hinges, but remained intact, with Dick's head popping in instead. A black mask obscured the upper half of his face, and his body made up entirely of red and green leather (known and infamous to the hearts of those who take him for granted).

"Heard that and stop looking at me," he said gruffly. The black cape, a mustard-yellow shade on the inside, followed his jerky movements as he tossed a silver chrome-plated briefcase back seat. His arm leaned on the top of his vehicle. "It's more than just me wearing a cape, you know. I take extra care to mask my identity in fighting crime."

"And even more daunting for you to give up this gimmick." Jade twirled a braid around her finger and met his smoldering gaze.

She groaned and leaned her head against the headrest. "Ok. I get it. You want to feel pretty. I'm sure all the criminals will fawn over your undisputed sexiness long enough before you bust their heads open like overripe melons." Reaching over, she wore a smirk while running a finger over his bicep. e Jade felt him shudder, but he waved her hand away, his jaw clenched, and cheeks tinted pink.

She approached this light-heartedly, and joking, as she usually did with any personal matter, but the oblivious disposition he had toward his own problem would make anyone who cared worried. He spent years working behind an alter ego created by his mentor and guardian, and prioritized everything else before his own, just like his identity.

Jade did not encourage herself to feel for him or the person he used to be. She knew better than that. Her teeth clasped on the inside of her cheek.

"Can we go in now?"

They had come to an abandoned house, a run-down place shrouded in darkness, and decades of inactivity. Dick parked in the back where undoubtedly, Hank and Dawn snuck in unnoticed. But, instead of going in immediately, the detective spent ten minutes changing his outfit. Ten fucking minutes, and Jade was sure she had just heard gunshots a while before. He left her to her thoughts alone. They constantly reminded her that she helped the self-imposed, overzealous, overgrown ass plug to distill the poor teen's trust in him. And after all that she'd been through, too.

She wondered why he couldn't show a little more consideration for someone who had lost so much in such a scant time? He knows firsthand exactly what it feels like. The least he could have done is what she wanted him to do. To have mercy on a poor soul. Just like someone did for him, they were the same.

Arching a brow, he glanced over at her, a distasteful expression etched his profile. "Are you sure that's exactly what you want to wear?"

Jade stared down at her cropped leather jacket, ACDC concert tee, grey sweatpants, and Nike house slippers. He was right. She appears more suited to binge Barry - two entire ass season than to fight crime. She didn't have the chance to get to change given the little time they had to get to Hank and Dawn. After the ritual they hauled ass, little of Rachel's desperate questions answered when Dick told her they were going out and she was firmly warned that she should stay inside. Then Jade walked down the stairs to cast the barrier while reciting the precepts of the mark he had just got. As a result, costume changes had not occurred to her.

"No. Because someone didn't give me the opportunity to." She glanced up and over at him.

He scowled. "It's just like you to blame someone else for your irresponsibility."

Jade rolled her eyes, then threw open her door and climbed out. "Let's not make mountains out of molehills, birdie." Her hand swept over her current attire. "We can work around this," Then she snapped her fingers. Shadowy red mist surrounded her entire body, swirling from head to toe, and she was eventually revealed to be wearing black leather with a burst of energy. Her face hidden under a hood. She twirled her hand over her head, and her famed double bladed scythe appeared within her reach. She was looking at him. Her lips stuck out like a cat's. Words became meaningless when her expression was speaking for itself.

"Oh, right?" He shook his head, scowl deepened. "You have supernatural powers and you can shift easily without a problem. I get it."

She held up a finger and said, "That's not it." Then she turned her back to him. "As you can see, there's no cape here."

"So let me guess ..." His arms crossed as she approached him again. "They're for kids and party entertainers, aren't they?"

Her bottom lip stuck out, "Sad but true for you and your bat friend."

"Bruce means nothing to me." Dick blinked, frowning.

"Whatever floats your boat, birdie." She turned toward the building, but not before waving her hand.

The door on the passenger's side glowed and swung shut. He rolled his eyes, closed his, followed behind her, but regretted that he had gone looking for her.

Trekking along the pathway leading to the area appearing secluded to the public eye, they circled around, while Jade kept their invisible illusion, drinking in their surroundings. They stopped, abruptly drawing closer and closer to the couple Lee inside. Dick supposed she would understand the silent hand signals he sent. And clueless, she gaped wide-eyed and unblinking. He kept trying, much to his growing frustration, but on his third try Jade flicked his forehead.

"Just use your words, birdie. I'm not a goddamn ninja," she whispered.

Dick threw his head back, groaning. "Do you see the skylight there?" he pointed out, pointing to where a large single mass of glinting glass positioned above the top of the corrugated asbestos building. Sheaths of dust and cobwebs inside, along with a coating of sunbaked bird crap, made it no longer translucent. This diffused the moonlight, which still shone through, but scarcely penetrated the darkness of the warehouse.

"Hold it right there, Batman 2.0." Jade put his hand up and silenced him. "This, what you're saying, sounds like a wish list. Last time I checked, we aren't playing Fortnite. It's a life or death situation."

"So what do you suggest we do then, know-it all?"

"How about you just continue sitting out here and coming up with a better idea and I'll go pop in?" she grinned as his eyes opened, and instantly he shook his head, realizing exactly what she had intended. She had all along.

He latched on to her arm, gripping tightly where anyone might have had to yield to such a potent hold, but Jade wasn't just anyone. Her gaze swooped down at his trembling hand and then met his eyes. "No," his voice shook behind gritted teeth.

Her fingers dropped, melting away the illusion, winding around and under his jaw, firmly clenching his cheeks, but dangerously close to his throat, stealing a shiver from him, even though Dick stared back unflinchingly. She could instantly cut it open in a quick motion. A wave of her hand and a conjured knife was all it took to do him in.

They exchanged heated looks, passing seconds at a time that took her back to those moments years ago when they were battling like this. Young and bold, daubed by rising tension, drawing closer to what could be the outcome of either's undoing. As she yanked him to her, she felt his fear. Jade ran her tongue along her teeth, smirking. "Try and stop me." With her breath fanning his lips, bitter defeat welled his eyes. Redrawing from his hold on her, Jade sighed heavily. "Good. Bye, bye." In a cloud of smoke, she had disappeared.

"Fuck." He muttered, rubbing his cheek, feeling the bruise that was already forming. "It's every time."

~
Author's  Note

Finally!!! Took two months to write this. I'm sorry y'all. I know y'all have been waiting for this one. Here it is. It's long I know, but I wrote it to keep y'all occupied since we're  at home and don't  have much better to do but chapter nine will be here soon so bear with me please. I hope y'all staying safe during this strange time. Loves ya, babes.