The red glare from the stoplight hit the wet pavement and reflected back onto the car's windshield as Alfred waited for the light to turn. The rain had stopped almost as quickly as it had started, leaving the air cold and slightly foggy. The streets were clear, it was far too late for anyone to be out, even those with less than honorable intentions. Any meanders had been driven inside by the rain, a quiet night was rare in Gotham but not unheard of. And Alfred found he was grateful for the solitude as he made his way deeper into the city. Grateful for the chance to think.
The night had started like any other. Batman had suited up and left for patrol late in the evening. Leaving Alfred to finish cleaning the dishes from the solitary dinner he had prepared for Master Bruce earlier. A comm sat in his ear, a soothing and constant thrumming noise only broken by the occasional voice. He had learned long ago that if he hadn't had access to the comms he would not be able to concentrate on his tasks. Too consumed with worry to do anything but fret. The only strange thing had been the absence of his other charges. Though it's true each of them had been spending less and less time in the manor over the years, for the last month someone had always been home. Grief had a funny way of bringing people together, making the absence of their lost loved one even more obvious.
When Oracle had requested Batman's presence at the clock tower Alfred had thought nothing of it. He had no reason to believe something was the matter, had no reason to believe that something was wrong.
His first clue had been when Batman had come home. It was early, too early for Master Bruce to end patrol, even on a quiet night he tended to stay out for at least another two hours. But the man came back, and without a word sat down at the computer and waited. Just waited. He didn't type, didn't speak, he did nothing but sit. Alfred had known Master Bruce his entire life, and though he had always been stoic and somewhat reserved, he never did nothing. He never stopped. Alfred had tried to speak to him, tried to coax him out of his stewing. But after receiving no acknowledgment the man gave up and instead boiled a fresh pot of tea.
When he came back down the others were back, and that was his second clue that something was wrong.
Some would claim that Alfred was psychic, that he was omnipotent even. That of course was a frivolous and outrageous accusation. Alfred was a man and nothing more. And while he wasn't a detective he knew the power of observation. It was a skill he had sharpened over many decades and with one glance he could tell if something was amiss. Miss Casandra spoke the language of bodies, but Alfred read faces. And there was one look shared on every one of his charges faces, everyone except Master Bruce who remained in his chair. Back to Alfred.
The look was one of betrayal.
Master Jason had been the one to tell him. Sweet boy, kind man. The words were quiet but could be clearly heard throughout the cave.
"Rachels alive Alfred. Bruce… He lied to us, this whole time he... He forced her to go undercover and fake her death."
"Forced?"
"He hurt her Alfred, he… God… he beat her." Alfred's stomach dropped but his own face did not change, did not twitch.
"Ahh." He looked over to Master Bruce who still did not turn to face him. He looked over to the others who were also turned away, allowing him and Master Jason privacy. Then he turned his gaze back to the boy in front of him. Green eyes swirling with a pain that hurt Alfred's soul.
"I assume that you will be working on bringing her back to us?" Master Jason nodded. "Do you require any immediate assistance from myself?" He shook his head. "Very well, if you will excuse me." He turned away from the group and walked up the staircase leading to the Manor. Shutting the GrandFather clock behind him just as the others began to speak, no doubt coming up with a plan. And then he walked outside, got in a car, and just drove.
The driving had not been aimless. He was not a spontaneous man, he had a purpose for every action he made. No, he had a goal, a destination in mind. The destination came into view as he made a left turn into a dark alleyway and parked next to a small gray building. Stepping out of the car he locked the doors behind him unworried. Gotham alleyways were not the safest places to be, but only fools wreaked havoc around the clinic.
The clinic was quiet. It was open of course but no one sat in the waiting room. There were no cries, no shouts, no frantic family members or frightened teens. And so Alfred quietly made his way down the hall, passing empty exam rooms and stopping in front of a shut door with warm yellow light spilling under its gap. Raising his hand he tapped twice and waited as the person on the other side moved forward.
Dr. Thompkins opened the door and raised an eyebrow in surprise at the sight of him. Her light blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck and her dark-rimmed glasses were perched at the edge of her nose. The wrinkles around her eyes were stretched in exhaustion, longing for an end to the long night. But still, she smiled and moved out of the way.
"Alfred, it's been a while since you've come into the clinic. Usually, I only get visits from our friends in leather." Stepping into the room he smiled at her non-question. What are you doing here? Was the subtext, though she was far too polite to be so blunt.
"I must admit, I have found myself at a loss." He followed her to her desk and sat down on the green chair in front of it. She moved to a small portable stovetop in the corner of the room and clicked it on, checking the old kettle on top of it for water before setting it down to boil.
"At a loss? That's unlike you." Pulling two teacups from the shelf she sat both on the desk. Opening a small drawer she pulled out two tea bags and set one into each cup. Sitting down in her own chair she took off her glasses, concern shining on her face. "At a loss for what?" It was like a string was cut, and the usual decorum that graced Alfred vanished. He didn't slump, he didn't believe his back would allow him to do anything but sit straight after so many years of discipline. And even when distressed Alfred was poised. But it was like a switch flipped and 'Alfred the Butler' turned into 'Alfred a very tired old man'. The concern on Leslie's face grew and she sat forward in her seat. "What happened?"
"I do believe that I have failed him Leslie." There was no question who him was. The two had practically raised Master Bruce together, had been one another's confidant throughout the years. If Alfred was the family's rock then Leslie was his.
"Where is this coming from? What happened?"
"Miss Rachel is alive. She has been alive this whole time." Leslie took in a deep breath and bowed her head. Alfred paused, almost unwilling to continue. "I do not know all the details but it is my understanding that Master Bruce sent her on a mission... He hurt her again Leslie, Master Jason did not say how badly, only that she was... beat."
"Jesus." The word was soft and immediately covered by the loud whistling of the kettle which pierced the room. Scrambling Leslie stood up and moved the kettle off the top, shutting the heat off she poured the water into the two cups. Setting the kettle back down, she turned back to him. "Did he say anything?"
"No. He didn't look at me. I'm not sure how the others found out but I take it that it was not a pleasant discovery for anyone."
"And is Rachel okay?" Alfred closed his eyes at the question, heartbreaking at the thought of the girl out there alone. With no way to know if she was safe.
"I do not know." Despite what the others claimed Alfred did not have favorites. He truly loved all his charges and was grateful that he had somehow been allowed to be part of each of their lives. Grateful that he had been able to raise them. But Rachel's death had hurt the family deeply. She had been the youngest of course but more than that, she had been the light.
Damian had been an angry child, so much like Bruce even if neither wanted to admit it. He did not scream or yell, but he had a quick tongue that stung like a blade. He had utilized it as a way to protect himself, had not been raised to believe in the good of others. He had been taught that people were cruel. People only wanted others to use, not for companionship. Love was a weakness, love was a lie. Alfred had worked with him tirelessly, had made sure he understood that the Manor was his home and he was safe within its walls. Damian had softened with the arrival of his siblings, but he would always expect people to disappoint him.
Timothy had been easier in some ways and more difficult in others. He had not been angry but he had been detached. Much as Damian had weaponized his arrogance Timothy had weaponized distance. He had been taught that people were selfish. That love was an obligation and not a privilege. He grew up alone, cold and analytical. A scientist in many ways, observing life as one would observe an experiment. Without any warmth. Alfred had worked with him as well, praise and words of affirmation were given freely. Alfred had made sure that Timothy understood you did not have to buy love, did not have to earn it. He had given his own love to his siblings easily, but Timothy would always leave some distance, just in case people decided he was no longer worth the effort.
Jason had been terrified. He hid it with a shield of anger, hid it with his fists and curses. But he was so very frightened. He had been taught that people could love, but that love was not always enough. After all his Mother had loved him, but not enough to get clean. His Father had claimed to love them, but not enough to not beat him. The price of love was pain, it was hurt. And even if you paid it, it could leave. Leave him alone on the street hungry and cold. Alfred had tried to show him that true love was a soft hand and not a tight fist. Had taught him that love was powerful and beautiful. The boy had loved literature, more than any of his other charges. And so love was taught through language. Shakespeare spoke of how beautiful it truly was, of how wonderful it could be. And Jason became less frightened, but he still knew that the world was not always as kind as it should be.
Cassandra had been a mixture of the three. She had been taught that people were split into two categories. There were those who were to be taken advantage of and there were those who did the taking. She was taught nothing of love, not that it was weak or painful. She only ever knew herself as a tool, something to be used. And when Alfred had taught her that she was a human, a person with the ability to love and to be loved, she was terrified and angry and distant. And then she was fierce. She was protective. Her family became her everything. And she never worried how the world could hurt her, she worried about how it could hurt them.
But Rachel had not been like any of her siblings. She had been taught that love was a gift that she could give to others. That a kind word cost nothing, and that kind people were what made life worth living. She came to the manor saddened by her parent's death but not broken by it. She was small but so very strong. She laughed constantly and wormed her way into the darkest of hearts. She believed that people had the potential to be good, she believed that people could change. If the Joker's motto had been 'It only takes one bad day' then Rachels was 'It only takes one kind word'. She had taught Alfred how hope had just as much power as vengeance. And Alfred had helped raise her.
And Bruce had so easily struck her down again. And once again Alfred had not been able to protect her from it.
He felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist and looking up he saw Leslie staring down at him. A knowing look in her eye.
"You said you failed Bruce…. Alfred this isn't your fault. Bruce is an adult, he makes his own choices. You did the best you could when raising him. You did everything you could." Grabbing his tea, he took a sip while he thought about how to share what was on his mind.
"I have only ever wanted him to be happy. I have tried… When he was a child I took him to a therapist. We went out, we did things, I gave him all the love I could. I knew it wouldn't be enough, how could it be? I was just his Butler." Leslie glared at that.
"You're more than that, and you know it." Alfred lifted a placating hand.
"I became more than that. But he lost his parents and at first, I was just someone who had to take care of him. And then he turned eighteen and just disappeared, left without a word to me or anyone."
"That was selfish of him. Not him leaving, he needed that. But to just leave you without even a note..." Alfred smiled sadly.
"And yet still I loved him. Then he came home and he became a vigilante, and I knew I couldn't talk him out of it, so I tried to help him. But then Damian arrived and he was still selfish but at least he tried. Then Timothy came and he began to change, to love. Heal one might say." Leslie nodded, sitting back down in her seat, sipping her own tea.
"But then Jason died."
"With Jason's death, it's like he remembered what he could lose and thought little of what he had." Leslie looked off as though remembering that time from several years ago.
"He got mean. Became more violent. And then Damian stopped by with Rachel who had a black eye and -" She shook her head. "I thought he learned his lesson after that."
"Bruce dislikes lack of control. That's why he became better after Damian took her away, he saw a loss of control within him. That's why he clings too tightly to Batman. He can do things Bruce Wayne can not."
"Batman has more control, more power." Alfred nodded "Maybe Batman has too much control. Over everyone, even over Bruce." Alfred took another sip of tea, already feeling guilt at what he was about to say.
"I hate Batman. I despise him and his war. I loath that the children have become his soldiers and I hate that he is corroding and blackening Bruce's soul. I love Bruce certainly, but it is becoming harder and harder. And I do not know where I failed him. I do not know where I went so wrong that he is becoming this." Leslie took a deep breath and leaned back into her chair. The two sat in silence for a moment.
It is not often you get a chance to reflect upon your life. But when you do sometimes it leads to the dreaded thought How did I get here from there? We start as blank slates. New and pink and breathing with hope, even if we do not know what the word hope means yet. And then slowly, moment by moment and year by year, something chips away at our hope. At our souls. And you wonder, how much of this was my doing and how much of this was done to me? Do I have any control over who I become or am I forced to watch myself morph into a being I don't recognize? And what is the power I hold over someone else's life? What responsibility do I have over a loved one's choices?
Finally, Leslie looked up, her face showing every bit of her age. Alfred had no doubt that his looked the same.
"You did everything you could. I'm not saying you did everything right, no one is perfect, not even you." She smiled gently at this. "Loving someone can be hard. Bruce made his choices and only he can live with them. You can only do what you think is right. That's all anyone can do." A man will have his regrets, but a man must also know when something is out of his control. Thinking for a moment, Alfred took the last sip of his tea before standing up.
"As always Dr. Thompkins you have been a sage advisor, one whom I greatly appreciate." Smiling Leslie stood and walked him to the door.
"As always Mr. Pennyworth it is my pleasure." Just as they were about to reach the door Leslie stopped. Hesitant for a moment. "Alfred… Regardless of what happens, it's not up to you to take responsibility for anyone, not even Bruce. You constantly live for others, take care of yourself as well. I know Rachel's death was difficult for you. Do not push aside your own problems just to comfort others." Straightening his jacket, Alfred gave Leslie a long look before grabbing the doorknob.'
"I'm a butler Dr. Thompkins, taking care of others is what I do."
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Everyone was so very loud.
Not verbally. After Alfred had left Bruce had given them all his information on Rachel and Spyral, and now everyone was tucked away in various corners of the room reading over the case. But physically? The noise was giving Cass a headache and she wanted to close her eyes for a moment of respite. Her brother's bodies were screaming out in collective anguish. Each movement and twitch laying a roadmap to their pain, and Cass was the only one who could read them.
Jason was the loudest, he always had been, even before he died.
The pit had left its mark, obviously in the white streak through his hair and the soured green in his eyes. But also in the tension sitting in the curve of his shoulder, never hunched over but always alert for an attack. His hands always twitched, a little and sporadically without a specific rhythm, but they were always moving. As though remembering how they had been used to claw their way out of the ground. Those were constant shows of his pain, and though Cass despised both she recognized them. With the newest revelation, there were new signs. His jaw was tensed, so tight that Cass feared it would lock, obviously that was anger. His neck was up straight and quivering, his head pulled back instead of jutting forward, that was worry. Instead of standing squarely, he had put a little more weight on his left foot, not enough to cause him to lean, but more than he usually put. That told Cass he was thinking deeply, and that his thoughts weren't good. But his eyes, his eyes said the most. They were still, usually, they darted across the room, always on alert, now they were fixed. He was scared.
Tim was the opposite of Jason, he was quiet in ways that had unnerved Cass when they first met.
His body was often curled in on itself, withdrawn, as though he was trying to take up as little room as possible. But that was all he gave her, and that in itself screamed out everything Cass needed to know. Tim did not shut down when upset, but he did turn off. He became neutral, truly neutral, a blank slate. His body wasn't tense or relaxed. He didn't fidget or sit too still. And he didn't let an ounce of what he was feeling leak through. He was robotic, doing what he had to do, without any flair or humanity. When they had first met Cass had read him as a threat, more so than Bruce. She had nothing to work with, nothing to use against him if need be. Over the years he had softened, had become bolder. A quick tip of the head when he was thinking. His lips turning up on the left told Cass he was amused, quirking on the right told her he was hurt but didn't want to show it. If he sat with one foot up on his chair he was tired, both feet up he was happy, and legs crossed he was focused. Because of these hints over the years, his blankness spoke volumes. He was lost, he was overwhelmed, he was hurt and didn't know how to process it.
Cass couldn't see Damian from where she was sitting but she had a good idea of what he would look like. Poised, the picture of elegance and high brow society. When he felt out of control he would revert to lessons learned earlier in life. Grace and balance equated to power. If you had absolute control over your body you could control anything. When he was happy he was still put together but he was not rigid. He relinquished his control. He would allow himself to be pulled one way or another, would allow an undignified snort and a quirk of the eyebrow to shine through. His outbreak earlier had rattled him however. And so now he was most likely wearing a nonchalant facade. Cass didn't need to see his body right now to know he was hurt, to see that he was frightened. She had heard the truth spoken from his own mouth. Cass rarely put much stock in words, but in the clocktower her brother's body and voice were working in tandem. Everything he had said was the truth, and she had felt warmth over his protectiveness.
And then there was Bruce.
She had always been able to read her Father. That was why she often got along with him better than the others. She understood him. When they had first met he had seemed so incredibly tall and frightening. He took up space unapologetically and she had immediately been reminded of Cain. But then he took off his mask and she realized the two were not the same. He was not poised but he was sturdy, as though afraid that if his feet weren't planted he would be knocked over. His hands often twitched in hesitation, as though he longed to reach out to someone but was afraid of rejection and so held back. His face was drawn, and when he smiled he always seemed surprised by it. As though he couldn't believe he was allowed to be happy. And he had been gentle, especially when any of them were hurt.
She had seen his regret, had seen the self-hatred after Jason died. And she pitied him when Damian had taken her and Rachel away. She had understood it was necessary but still she had not seen Bruce as a threat. She still didn't, not looking at him now sitting in his chair, the picture of defeat. He was confusing sometimes, when he was Batman he was sure and confident. But when he was Bruce he always questioned himself, always seemed to regret his choices, and seemed at a loss for how to fix them. Looking at him now, Cass did not see him as a threat.
But watching him attack Rachel? That had made Cass afraid.
Afraid because he had so easily hurt her family. Had so easily destroyed her sister and lied to them. She had no doubt that Bruce regretted his actions now, but in the video he seemed to think they were justified. And Cass didn't know what to do.
Her only mission in life was to protect her family. That was her only goal, the only reason she went out each night as Black Bat. She had empathy for the people she saved, and she was happy to help. But if her family was not out there risking their lives she would not be either. But how do you protect your family from your Father? How can you help one member if it hurts another?
Cass didn't know what to do, and she was so very mad at Bruce.
Mad that he had destroyed everything, that he had upset everyone. Mad that he had promised to keep her safe when he took her in, promised that he would never hurt her as Cain had. Only to turn around and hurt Rachel instead. What made Rachel different from the rest of them? Bruce had never raised his hand to any of the others to her knowledge so why Rachel? Was it because he thought he could get away with it? Was it because he thought he needed to? Was it just bad luck?
Cass hated uncertainty, she hated not knowing the answers and she hated that she was forced to ask these questions. And she was struck by the unfairness of it all.
When she had been young the concept of a parent was foreign to her. Someone who loved and cared for you? She did not have that. Cain had made her, but he hadn't raised her. But then Bruce had come along and she suddenly had a Father, and she realized just what she had been missing. A confidant, a rock, someone who had to love you even when you made mistakes. Someone who knew every part of you, someone who you didn't have to pretend around. And Cass didn't know what to do because she didn't know how to forgive Bruce for what he had done. But she didn't want to lose her only parent. But it also felt unfair to Rachel to even consider forgiving him. After all, he had hurt her not Cass.
When Jason had died, and Damian had taken them to live at the Penthouse something had changed between the two girls. Damian and Tim had morphed away from siblings into caretakers, and Jason was gone and suddenly it was just the two of them. Alone and grieving, and reeling from the sudden change. And much like now, Cass had been angry. Had quit her dance lessons, had refused to go back to school or go out on patrol. She had locked herself away from the others, alone in her room. She hadn't been able to save her brother, she hadn't been able to save Jason or help Bruce. And everything that had happened felt like her fault.
Rachel had been grieving as well, but only silently. Cass could hear her crying softly at night. Could see the glassiness in her eyes, and the strain around her ever-present smile. But she still tried, still laughed. Would still sit with Cass for hours, working on homework and chatting amicably even though Cass would never respond back. She would pull up ballets and musicals on her laptop and play them for Cass while she read. Cass never cared much for the singing, but the movement was mesmerizing. And when Cass couldn't deal with anyone and would lock her door in an attempt to keep everyone out, Rachel would sit in the hallway and would just talk. About anything and everything. About her day, her friends, a new move Damian had taught her or something embarrassing Tim had done. Then she would talk about Jason. Voice growing tighter in sorrow but also warmth. And somehow that helped.
One day, almost a month after they had moved in with Damian Rachel had come home from school and went immediately into her room. That in itself was strange, as usually, she would spend the afternoon with Cass before dinner. The apartment felt so quiet, it unnerved her enough that she finally inched out of her own room and walked across the hall. Tapping lightly on her sister's door.
Rachel said nothing, again a red flag, and so Cass reached for the doorknob and gently pushed it open. Her sister was sitting on the floor, arms curled around her legs and head pressed into her knees. She made no sound, not a whimper or a sniffle, and she didn't look up when Cass entered. Cass was at a loss, she had never seen her sister like this. Rachel's body was vibrant, the muscles laughed when they moved and flew with a lightness none of her other siblings had. But now, her body was tired and hopeless. Coming forward, Cass sat down next to her and pulled her into her side. She didn't say anything, didn't offer any words of comfort but eventually, Rachel looked up. Cass had been expecting tears, but instead, Rachel's face was dry and pulled in wild despair.
"What did I do wrong?" Cass wasn't sure what she meant and so she tilted her head in confusion. "What did I do wrong with Bruce? Did I say something, or do something. I keep thinking about it and I can't figure it out. And now everyone hates him because of me. But what if it was my fault?" Angry. Cass was angry. She moved in front of Rachel and took her face in her hands. Directing her sister to look her in the eye. Cass wasn't one for words, but Rachel was, and she would say anything to comfort her sister.
"You did nothing. This is not on you. Bruce… Bruce may be broken. This is his problem to fix. Not yours." Rachel still seemed conflicted and so Cass pushed forward. "You are family, I.. we will protect you from anyone who hurts you. Even Bruce."
"But Bruce is family too." Rachel pointed out. "Who will protect him?" Cass thought hard for a moment.
"He is family yes, but that does not mean he can just do what he pleases. If he wants to be in our family he must work for it. When we came to the manor we trusted him, he has broken that trust, he must be the one to earn it back."
The memory seemed fresh even though it occurred several years ago and turning to Bruce, still sitting in the chair, Cass had to wonder. Did he ever earn that trust back, or did we just blindly give it to him? A small warm hand wrapped itself around her shoulder and looking up she saw Steph smiling down at her. Stephanie was not like her siblings; she was loud but not like Jason. Her loudness was shrouded in warmth, she did not give her trust freely, but she was not marred by the evils in her past. Rachel had called her the 'normal' one of the family. Her loudness was like firecrackers on the 4th of July, safe and vibrant.
"We got some information on where Rachel may be going next, we're regrouping to come up with a plan." Nodding with a small smile, Cass followed the blonde back to the others who were now clustered over by the bat computer. She caught Damian's eye who was looking at her in worry, a silent question on his face. Are you alright? She gave him a quick nod before turning her attention to Tim. Who had taken Bruce's seat at the computer and was pulling a map up on the screen.
"The Israeli peace protest in Tel-Aviv, that's where Spyral and by extension, Rachel is going to be." Jason stepped forward, peering at the map.
"How do we know this?" Oracles voice filled the cave, and the computer screen switched to a report curated by God's Garden.
"We received word from Midnight. Apparently, a cult going by the name 'The Fist of Cain' is planning to attack the protest with one of the Paragon Parts. God's Garden is also letting the information slip to Spyral. Partly to get their assistance to prevent the attack, partly to give us an opportunity to speak with Rachel." Jason looked up at the speakers Oracle was speaking from in confusion.
"Why would they help us?" He had a point, to Cass's knowledge the Garden co-existed with the League but rarely partnered with them.
"They want our help in procuring the Paragon part before Spyral can take it. They've already lost three implants to Spyral, they don't want to lose a fourth." Jason nodded accepting the answer.
"Well then, I guess we're going to Israel."
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When Mister Minos had asked Rachel to join him in her office she had expected to talk about the Paragon Protocol or even the unexpected visit from Midnighter. So when the man had set down a mug of tea and gently asked her how she was doing she was perplexed. Not because Minos was unkind, but because outside of her arrival, and a few brief interactions, she hadn't actually spoken to the man much. After all, the man was the head of a spy organization and Rachel's team was just one small part of Spyral. Nonetheless, she accepted the tea and answered him with a small smile.
"I'm doing well Mister Minos, thank you."
"Good, good. I trust that Agent 1 and Matron have been suitable instructors? I know your previous mentor's teaching style must have been quite different." Rachel snorted at that.
"A bit of an understatement. They've been great, and I must admit it's been nice to train in an actual gym as opposed to underground in a cave."
"A cave?" Rachel flushed, she had not meant to speak so casually. Minos must have noticed her hesitance and shook his head. "You do not have to say anything you don't want to Rachel. I asked you down here just to chat, not to interrogate you about your family. I was merely surprised." It was still strange having people who knew her family's identities, strange not to be hiding parts of her.
"No, it's fine. I'm just still not used to not having a secret identity you know?" Minos nodded.
"I imagine it's quite freeing. I only recently took on the alias of Minos and I already find it quite..draining." Rachel was surprised at this.
"I wasn't aware that Minos was a pseudonym." Minos laughed.
"Surely you didn't think I was born with the name and a spiral on my face." Rachel suppressed a grin, she hadn't not thought that. "Being the head of this agency has many perks and has allowed me to help people in many ways. But it has also given me many enemies. I would risk my life for Spyral, I would not however risk my family."
"You have a family?" The question was said incredulously and only when it was spoken did Rachel realize how rude it sounded. Alfred would not be impressed. Luckily Minos simply laughed again.
"Indeed I do. Not quite as large as yours but I have a sister and two nephews… I am very protective of them as you can imagine." Rachel nodded, thinking of her own siblings. Despite all that had happened between her and Bruce, she would do anything for the others. "I do not get to see them often I'm afraid, but when I do it gives me comfort knowing I can take off my mask without fear that I am putting them in danger."
"Why are you telling me this?" Minos paused and took a sip from his own mug, a strange sight as Rachel still couldn't see his mouth.
"I know you were sent here undercover. But please remember this is a job, not a prison sentence. I know you must be going through things I can't even imagine. You must feel conflicted, or that you are betraying your family working for us. But they are still your family, you are allowed to speak with them, regardless if you are spying on us or not." Rachel could hear the amusement in his voice when he said the last bit.
"Aren't you mad, that I've told Batman things?" Minos shook his head.
"He is your family, and he was very clearly manipulating you. We saw the tapes Rachel. It's clear he was an abusive man. It is difficult to escape the hold he can have on you. And more importantly, we are not the bad guys. There is no shame in what Spyral is trying to accomplish, we have nothing to hide." Minos paused for a moment, as though considering his next words. "Rachel, I have seen the immense strength you carry within yourself. You are a very independent woman, that is why Spyral recruited you. Not because we wanted a mindless soldier but because we wanted someone who would challenge us. It's easy to get lost in what your mission is, we need people who are not afraid to tell us off when we do."
"Would you have still wanted me? Even if you never saw the tapes, even if Lex Luthor hadn't told you the Bats identities?" The question came out softer than she had intended. But Minos replied without hesitation.
"Yes. You were forced to come to us Rachel, but we will not force you to stay. I hope that you will, I can see that we are like-minded individuals. But if you choose to go I will respect that decision." Do I want to leave? Do I want to go back to Gotham and become another pawn for Bruce to use in his never-ending crusade? Do I want to lose my autonomy, lose my free will?
Do I want to leave Spyral?
That question perhaps was the most important one. It had followed her around since Midnighter had come to her room. And the answer scared her. She liked it here, she liked her team and the missions. She liked the training and the teaching. She liked the independence. Looking back up at Minos she smiled and answered his earlier question.
"The cave was where we trained, it was our Homebase. I called it the BatCave because I was eight when I saw it, and the name just kind of stuck. It was dark and drafty and echoed, and there were always Bats flying around above, but it was too dark to see them. You could only ever hear them. When it was crowded it felt like home."
"And when it wasn't?" Rachel shrugged.
"It felt lonely." Minos nodded, and Rachel had the sense that if she could see his face he would be smiling.
"Thank you for sharing that with me Rachel." A loud knocking filled the room and Rachel turned in her seat just as Matron walked in. A look of worry on her face.
"I apologize for interrupting but we have an update on one of the Paragon parts, and need to deploy a team out quickly." Standing up, Rachel turned to look at Minos who gave her a curt nod of dismissal. She followed Matron out into the workspace and saw Tiger already standing at the debriefing table. A holograph of a tall thin man with a severe-looking face wearing long brown robes shown on the table.
"Who is that?" Matron handed Rachel a file before she spoke.
"That is Christian Fleischer, he is the leader of the Fist of Cain, a fairly new cult that has settled in southern Italy." Flipping open the file Rachel looked over pictures of the members before reaching a report on them.
"And he's important because?"
"They were the ones who purchased the hard drive for the Paragon. Originally we didn't see them as an immediate threat as the drive has no powers on its own. We were going to go after them after obtaining the other pieces." Tiger stepped up, taking the file from Rachel's hands.
"Why the change?" Matron changed the screen and a picture of a brain with wires flowing through it appeared.
"Apparently our initial intel was incorrect the drive isn't actually a drive... It's a brain." Gross. "We still don't know whose DNA is imbued within it, but we do know that the cult is planning on using it to send a psychic pulse throughout Tel-Aviv tomorrow morning during an Israeli Peace Protest." Tiger set down the folder and took a closer look at the brain.
"And what happens if they send out the pulse?"
"It will cause members to violently attack one another in a blind rage during their peaceful protest. Completely undermining their message and causing thousands of deaths in the process. The cult plans to do this as their official debut to the world. Many reporters will be there covering the protests, and they view it as the perfect time to get coverage." Rachel frowned, something about this didn't make sense.
"How do we know about this? Last we knew the drive was just a drive?" Matron pulled up a new picture this time of the two Leaders, Midnighter and Dr. Leviticus.
"God's Garden gave us the intel." Tiger stiffened, disbelief coloring his face.
"And we're just going to believe them? Why would they help us?"
"Technically, they view it as us helping them. God's is stretched thin, they are down a leader and the Gardener can not leave the base. Despite our different philosophies, the end goal is the same. To protect human life. We will be working with them to stop this attack." Rachel looked at Matron in disbelief.
"So we're supposed to suddenly just trust them?" Matron shot her a look at the interruption but answered regardless.
"No. We're supposed to work with them. This peace protest has been in the works for months, and if the cult succeeds not only will it mean certain death for most of the attendees, but it will make an already uneasy political situation more volatile." Rachel nodded, apparently the enemy of my enemy is not my friend, they're just another enemy. How fun.
"So what's the plan?"
"Agent 24 and a few other field agents will be on the ground, in case things turn sour. Agent 37 and Leviticus will be teaming up to go after the leader Fleischer. Midnighter and Agent 1 will be going after the brain. It was decided that it would be better to have the teams split up, it gives us a greater chance of retrieving the brain before the Garden does.
"Wouldn't the brain and the leader be together?" Matron shook her head and pulled up a new picture. This time of a very familiar woman.
"Lois Lane is covering the protest for the Daily Planet. The cult plans to kidnap her and her crew to debut their group to the world. Fleischer will be with her to send out his message. They won't want the brain there because the chances of Superman arriving are very high." Matron looked directly at Rachel. "You are the only one of us with experience dealing with Kryptonians, try to avoid any confrontation with him. As soon as you have taken care of Fleischer you are to join Agent 1 in obtaining the brain." Matron turned off the screen and turned to look at both of them, a serious look on her face.
"Outside of stopping the cult, your priority is retrieving the brain before Garden does. We may be temporarily working together but they are still the enemy. If they get the part before us it's over."
************************************************************************
This plan sucked.
Here they were, in Israel, attempting to stop a terrorist attack and a cult. Saving thousands of civilians in the process. This was some Grade A spy shit. Rachel should be having the time of her life, because of how cool this all was. And she would be if she wasn't stuck with Doctor Leviticus.
The Doctor was a strange woman and her picture hadn't done her justice. She was only slightly taller than Rachel but she was lean. Every part of her came to a point and Rachel had to wonder when the last time she ate was? She wore a dark dress with a long neck and ruffles peaking over the collar and around the cuffs. And she looked as though she had just time-traveled a hundred years into the future. Her eyes were dark and narrow, always moving, always searching, and her cheeks were sharp, cutting back into her dark black hair which was drawn into a bun.
On her own, she would have unsettled Rachel, but it didn't help that the women kept giving her strange looks as they made their way through the town. It was as though she was appraising her, searching for something.
Rachel tried to ignore her and instead remained focused on the crowd. Searching the cluster of reporters for the Daily Planet Crew. They had been instructed to allow the kidnapping to occur, and to follow them to the leader. Her eyes landed on Lois and she felt a flicker of guilt in her chest.
She had always been close to the Kent family. Damian and Tim had both been very close to Jon and Kon, and she had spent many weekends and summers hanging around the old Kent farm. Assisting Ma Kent with various chores inside, or helping out Pa Kent on the farm when her siblings were busy with their friends. After Damian died, and Bruce and her started fighting more she would often take the long drive to Metropolis and blow some steam off with Uncle Clark. When Clark wasn't available she would shadow Lois at work, much to her editor's annoyance. It felt strange to be watching her like this.
She couldn't focus on the thought for long however as she noticed a few strange men walk towards the group. Under one of their jackets, one pulled out a gun and whispered something into Lois's ear. Lois to her credit did not startle, instead, a look of annoyance crossed her face as she and her cameraman were led away.
"It's time." Leviticus nodded and the two worked their way through the crowd. Weaving through the throngs of protestors, following the group as they moved towards a nondescript office building. "They're taking them inside. Any idea who this building belongs to?"
"Our research tells us it was bought by a private investor a year ago for development purposes but the plans were put on halt due to city ordinance. It is for all intents and purposes abandoned." Of Course, the evil cult would choose a cliche hideout. Why can't they ever be creative with their bases? Rachel nodded and the two moved to the front door of the building, pushing it open slowly.
The lobby was empty, devoid of people and things. The elevator had tape across it with the words "Out of Order" written in Hebrew. A door sat in the corner leading to the stairs.
"Any idea how many floors we're looking at?" Leviticus pulled out a tablet, the technology looking out of place in her hands. She scanned it for a moment before answering.
"Twelve. Our sensors found a heat signature on the top floor when we were looking over the area before you arrived. They are likely taking her there." They probably want a nice view of the chaos below. She looked over at Leviticus, taking in her dress.
"You good to take the stairs?" The woman blinked for a moment before grinning, the look was strange on her face, unnatural.
"I can assure you Gray Son, I can handle myself just fine." The infliction on her name was strange, the woman splitting the one word into two. Rachel did not comment however and headed to the stairs. Opening the door she looked up and listened for a moment. Hearing nothing she began to ascend, Leviticus trailing silently behind her.
True to her word, the Doctor followed Rachel without any issues and the two reached the top quickly. This time Leviticus came to the door and held up the tablet. The screen seemed to peer through the wall and picked up three different heat signatures in the room on the other side.
"It is simply a lobby, the reporter and Fleischer will be in the next room. We must go through them first." Leviticus began to move before Rachel gripped her arm to stop her.
"What happens if Christian Fleischer hears us coming?" Leviticus stared at her unconcerned by the question.
"He will most likely dispose of the crew before attempting to escape." The Doctor began to move again, but Rachel held onto her arm.
"We need to take care of those men without alerting the others, I will not risk their lives." Leviticus frowned.
"This is to save the lives of thousands Agent 37, two lives in the grand scheme are not the ultimate price to pay." Rachel stared her down uncompromisingly. She may not work for the League anymore, but Lois was still her friend, she would not risk her life for Fleischers. Finally Leviticus gave in with a sigh. "What do you propose?" Rachel thought for a moment before looking down at herself. Her clothes were purposefully neutral to blend in with the crowd. The only thing that stood out was the lump on her right hip, where her gun sat. Reaching down, she pulled the gun off her belt and handed it to Leviticus.
"I'm going to pretend to be lost to get close to them. Once I take care of the first guy I'll move to the second. I need you to come in to handle the third. We need to do this quietly and quickly, no guns." Leviticus stared at her for a moment and once again Rachel felt she was being appraised for something. Finally she nodded.
"Very well. I shall follow your lead."
Straightening her clothes she plastered on her best fake smile and opened the door. When she walked in the three guards immediately turned to her. Their guns weren't out, but Rachel could see them through their robes. Putting on her best Israeli accent she spoke to them.
"I am so sorry to intrude, I appear to be lost. This wouldn't happen to be 34 Shivtei Street, would it?" The man closest to her looked at his partners in confusion, as though unsure what to do. The man who had been closest to the office door on the opposite side of the room strode over to her.
"Miss you must leave, this is a private -" As soon as he got close enough and without any hesitation, Rachel reached for the knife tucked behind her back and slashed at his throat. For a moment everyone was silent, and Rachel watched as the blood leaked out from the wound, the man crumbling to the ground with a gurgle.
Without waiting for the other two to recover from their shock she jumped on the next guard just as Leviticus entered the room. Flipping over him she wrapped her arms around his throat and pulled it back. Choking him with it. The man tried to fight back, but Rachel had been taught how to fight someone bigger than her and her grip didn't waiver. Eventually, he too began to sag to the ground, his silently sputtering and violent jerking quieting until finally, it stopped. After making sure he wasn't going to wake up she released him and watched as he fell to the ground with a silent thud.
Looking up she made eye contact with Leviticus who was standing over her own guard. The body was turned away from Rachel but she could see a small pool of blood beginning to form under him. For a moment Rachel felt guilt, but shaking her head she moved towards Leviticus. They're terrorists, this was the only way to make sure Lois remained safe. Leviticus for some reason looked pleased, but Rachel ignored that as she reached her hand out for the tablet. Once it was handed to her she crept towards the office door and held it up once more.
This time there were four heat signatures. Two were sitting in the middle of the room, one was right on the other side of the door, and the other was standing on the far side. Pulling the tablet away she took a step away from the door so she could speak without being heard.
"I'm guessing the two sitting are Lois and the cameraman. That leaves the guard on the other side of the door and Fleischer by the windows." Leviticus looked to the room pensively.
"I will take care of the guard, you will go after Fleischer. Agreed?" Rachel nodded and handed the tablet back to Leviticus who stuffed it back into a hidden pocket in her dress. The Doctor moved forward and after sharing a quick look with Rachel she opened the door and grabbed the guard pulling him backwards into the lobby. Hopping over them Rachel took in the sight of the room. The two in the chair turned to look at her and Rachel saw Lois's eyes widen in recognition as she took her in. Fleischer turned to her, a look of irritation on his own face.
"You couldn't have waited five more minutes, I'm in the middle of something." Rachel raised her eyebrow unimpressed.
"I'm sorry is now not a good time to stop your evil terrorist attack?" Fleischer took off his robe and moved closer to her.
"No, it is not." The man launched himself at her and quickly Rachel moved out of the way. Hand going to her hip for her gun before remembering that it was still with Leviticus. Fleischer reached out his hand to grab Rachel's hair but she evaded him, catching his arm and pulling it behind his back. With a grunt of pain, he stomped his foot down on hers causing a few toes to break. Rachel flinched but her grip was tight. Getting behind him she wrapped her other arm around his throat much as she did with the guard.
"Stop!" Looking up Rachel saw the cameraman pointing a gun at Lois, eyes staring at Fleischer. "Let him go or she dies." Lois for her part looked unbothered.
"Really Tom? You're working for a cult? What, was photography not paying the bills?"
"Shut-up!" He pressed the gun against her head and turned his attention to Rachel. "Let him go, or I swear to God I will kill her." Fleischer began to laugh from where he was being held.
"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" Before Rachel could respond a gunshot filled the room and the cameraman fell forward. Blood pouring from his head. Leviticus stood in the doorway, Rachel's gun stretched out in front of her. Immediately Fleischer stopped laughing and Rachel felt a grin stretch across her own face.
"You were saying?" Without waiting for a response Rachel grabbed the side of his head and twisted his neck. A loud snapping filled the room as Fleischer went limp in her arms. Dropping him to the ground she looked up and met Lois's eyes. The woman was staring at her in shock, as though not really believing that she had just killed. The guilt from earlier returned. He was a terrorist she wanted to say he was planning on killing thousands of people. I'm not the bad guy here.
She couldn't voice any of those thoughts however because a second later a large shape flew into the room breaking the windows on impact. Rachel ducked as the glass shattered, feeling a few pieces landing in her hair. When she stood back up she tensed. Of course he would come.
"Hi Superman." Clark looked away from Lois in surprise, but not as much as she would have expected. He must have heard the good news she thought sarcastically. "What, no how are you? How are you not dead? What are you doing in Israel?" Clark opened his mouth to speak but then his gaze flickered down to the body at her feet. Rachel waited for the anger, the disgust, the judgment. But instead, his face softened into pity.
"Oh Rachel." Somehow that was worse, the understanding.
"I don't regret it." He stiffened at her words but still the judgment didn't come.
"We know Rachel. We know what happened. You don't need to do this anymore, you can come home." The comm that had been sitting in her ear sparked to life and Tiger's voice filled the line.
"Agent 37, the brain has been acquired, Midnighter is down but only temporarily. Status on Fleischer?"
Superman zeroed in on the comm and lifting her hand up to activate it Rachel spoke.
"Fleischer has been terminated. I am on my way." Superman stepped forward, a pleading look on his face.
"Rachel-"
"I can't do this right now I have to go." She started to take a step but once again Clark moved towards her. The sound of a gun cocking filled the room and the two turned to see Leviticus holding Lois by the neck, gun pressed to her temple.
"Go Gray Son, I will hold them off." Rachel looked at her in confusion.
"What?" Leviticus grew impatient.
"Go. I will stay here with the man of steel and the reporter while you escape."
"But why?" Leviticus paused for a moment, the appraising look once again gracing her face.
"I knew your GrandFather." My GrandFather? "I can not tell you much, but if you should ever find yourself in the crosshairs of the Court of Owls run. Do not let them get a hold of you." Well, that cleared up absolutely nothing. Rachel went to speak but Leviticus pressed the gun closer to Lois causing Clark to tense. "Go, now." She felt Clark's gaze on her but she did not turn to face him. Instead, she reached around to her right ear and turned the silver device implanted there clockwise activating her face spiral. With a small nod of gratitude, Rachel ran out of the room and towards the roof and spoke into her comm.
"Leviticus has been dealt with, where are you located."
"There is an evacuation helicopter about a block away SW. I'm on route, I will meet you there."
"Copy that." Opening the door to the roof, she oriented herself for a moment then began sprinting away from the building. She trusted Leviticus to keep her word, but Superman would not be delayed for long. The buildings were so close together that she had little trouble jumping from each one. The jumps far easier than the ones she used to do in Gotham. In front of her was a slightly lower building and taking a deep breath she jumped down, preparing to roll on landing. Before she could do so she felt a hard body tackle her from the side. She hit the concrete hard, the breath knocked out of her. She could not rest however as a large booted foot began to fall down towards her head. Rolling to the side she scrambled up onto her feet and looked at her attacker.
Jason.
Her brother stood before her, decked out completely in his Red Hood gear, a strange sight to see in the middle of the day. Red Hood ran at her and she once again flipped out of the way, nearly missing a punch in the process.
"Agent 37, what's your status? We need to get out of here before the Leaders converge."
Dancing out the way of another punch she spoke back.
"Slight problem over here, it seems we have a Bat infestation." There was a short pause on the line.
"I am on my way." Before Rachel could respond a foot came out of nowhere kicking her in the side. She let out a grunt of pain and backed away. Oh great, Tim's here now too. Her Brother lifted up three beeping Batarangs and threw them out her and Rachel jumped out of the way before they could explode. Unfortunately, she jumped straight into Jason who wrapped his arms around her chest and threw her to the ground. Straddling her, he lifted his arm up to punch and Rachel tensed. I really don't want to have to fight you. Before his punch could hit her a gloved hand covered his and pulled it back.
"Stop." Cass was standing behind him, her voice soft but firm. Though she was holding Jason's hand she was staring at Rachel.
"Black Bat what the hell. Why are you-"
"It's Rachel." Jason froze, his angry tangent cut off by the words. Turning slowly he looked down at her swirling facade. Slowly reaching up her hand she turned the device behind her ear off, and Jason inhaled sharply at the sight of her face.
"Guess the cats out of the bag huh?" No one said anything, no one moved and for a moment Rachel felt supremely uncomfortable. The moment didn't last long however as quickly Jason scrambled off of her and took off his helmet revealing a frazzled and masked face. Pulling her up he captured her in a tight hug.
"You're really alive. You're alive, you're here, you're breathing." Rachel tensed for a moment at the physical contact before forcing herself to relax. This is Jason, he won't hurt you. Slowly lifting her own arms she gently wrapped them around her brother. Over his shoulder she noticed Cass take in her hesitation but her sister said nothing. Rachel turned her attention back to her brother.
"I'm alive." She reassured him, and because she couldn't resist it she added, "Sorry to disappoint." Jason's arms tightened around her for a moment before pulling away. Looking her in the eye.
"Don't say that." His voice was more serious than she had ever heard. Unsure of what to say she extracted herself from her Brother's arms only to be pulled into another hug by Tim. This one was quicker but just as fierce.
"We missed you Rach, you have no idea how happy I am to see you." He pulled away but not before she could hear her brother's comm crackle in his ear. He listened to what was said for a moment before a look of concern flashed across his face. "I'm so sorry." About what? She had only just thought the question when the familiar sound of heavy boots hit the roof. She felt her whole body tense and panic began to rise within her. She saw Tim exchange a strange look with Jason but she could not focus on them. Instead, she heard the feet come closer, nearing her before they stopped suddenly. As though someone had halted him.
"Rachel." The voice was quiet and relieved and sorrowful and all the things Bruce was not. It did not match the stoic voice she had heard when checking in the last few weeks. It certainly did not match the cruel and raised bellow she had heard when last in the cave. It was not a tone she was used to hearing from Bruce. And that alone made her turn around to face him. Only when she did she noticed he was not alone.
"Damian." Both men reacted to her voice. Bruce exhaled as though he had been waiting for her to speak. Damian remained where he was standing, and his face matched the one she had seen earlier on Clark. It was one of great sorrow and relief, one of pure love. Another set of footfalls hit the roof and Rachel looked over to Tiger who was watching the proceedings in concern. Rachel could see a pouch slung across his shoulder carrying the brain. Her family tensed but did not attack.
"Agent 37?" She could hear the question in his tone. Are you alright, what do you need? The only problem was Rachel didn't know how to answer. Didn't know how to focus on anything except the fact her brother was alive.
"Damian." Her voice cracked and she threw herself at her Brother, holding onto him tightly. She felt his own arms come up as the two desperately grabbed at one another. Rachel felt tears come to her eyes, and her throat tightened at the swell of emotion. "I don't understand, I don't- how did you-"
"It is alright. I'm here and I'm so sorry about everything. But it will be alright now." Damian was alive, Damian was alive. How was this possible, how did this happen, when did this happen? The roof was silent as the two embraced. Letting the two have their privacy. Rachel pulled back from his arms, desperately soaking in his face. The last time she had seen him he had been cold and bloody and now he was breathing and everything was okay.
"How?" Damian smiled, a rare and small thing that Rachel knew was solely reserved for her.
"My GrandFather. Apparently, he was rather displeased by my Mother's actions." Ra's, the pit brought him back, was he alright? Damian seemed to sense her concern. "I am fine, there were no side-effects. Pennyworth has been monitoring me for a while and there have been no signs of complications." The news was good but Rachel felt her eyes narrow at the words.
"A while? How long have you been back?" Damian paused and looked over to Bruce, anger simmering underneath his eyes. And Rachel felt herself grow hot with anger, bitterness rising up within her. Of course. Stepping away from her Brother she moved in front of Bruce, who was watching her cautiously.
"How long." Her voice was quiet, deadly, and she could sense her siblings twitching at the sound.
"How long?" It was a question but Rachel knew Bruce knew what she was asking.
"How long has he been alive." There was a pause, a long pause, so long that Rachel wondered if he would actually answer her.
"A month."
"A month?" Rachel spat out, red creeping into her vision. "A month and you didn't tell me. Didn't think that I deserved to know that he was alive? I reported back to you every single fucking week and you couldn't tell me that Damian wasn't dead?" Bruce turned to look quickly at Tiger, his face going blank as he tried to save face.
"I don't know what you mean." Rachel laughed, a cruel and ugly noise, and Damian twitched from where he was standing. As though longing to grab her.
"Save it Bruce." The man flinched at the name but she continued. "They know, they've always known. They told me the night they recruited me that they knew I was undercover."
"What." And there it is, the infamous temper, always stirring under the surface, always ready to be ignited. "Why did you not include that in your reports?" Rachel would not be bullied, would not feel bad for what she had done, not when he had made her do it in the first place. With the arrival of her family came clarity.
"Fuck you Bruce. Just- God why did I ever put up with your shit?
"Excuse me?" Batman took a step closer to her and Rachel felt all her siblings move behind her as Damian roughly grabbed Bruce's arm to stop him, but she did not flinch. In fact, she got angrier.
"You don't get to be mad at me, not when it was my life on the line. Not after everything that you did. I made a choice, and I'm starting to think it was the right one." The anger seemed to drain from Bruce at her words.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I don't trust you! Why would I? What have you done to make me think I could?" She paused waiting for an answer, waiting for some kind of explanation. A reason for why Bruce was so cruel. She wanted him to say something, anything. But he remained silent. "They may be spies but at least Spyral has never lied to me Bruce. At least I know when I am being used."
"They want to destroy the League." Rachel rolled her eyes at his comment.
"They just want oversight."
"And who are they to decide that?"
"WHO ARE YOU!" She waved her hands angrily at the man, ignoring when Bruce flinched at her shout. "Who are you to decide what to do and what is good and what is right and what is worth fighting for? Who are you to decide who the enemy is? What if you're wrong, why should we blindly follow you. Who will protect us from you." A gloved hand landed on her shoulder and she shook it off in anger. It reached out again and turned her towards them. Jason was staring at her, his face twisted in pain.
"Bruce fucked up, he really fucked up, and he can't fix it Rachel. But don't punish yourself for what he did, don't do this just to spite him." Rachel pulled away from him in disgust.
"Believe it or not Hood I have the ability to think critically. Contrary to belief, I don't allow myself to be moved around like some sort of puppet." Jason furrowed his brow in confusion.
"So what are you saying? That we're the bad guys, that you want to join Spyral for real. They've made you kill Rachel, you're not a killer!" Rachel laughed again, this time at the absurdity of the situation.
"Guess what Hood, about 15 minutes ago I snapped a guy's neck and I don't regret a thing." A stricken look appeared on her Brothers face and she moved away from him. "If you don't like it, you can blame him." She nodded to Bruce who was just staring at her silently. She began to move away from the group towards Tiger when she felt a large hand grab her wrist. This time she didn't immediately pull it away.
"Grayson." She did not look at Damian, her anger from before fizzled, leaving her with an exhausting sadness.
"I am tired, and I am angry, and I am so mad at him." His voice was soft as he stepped closer to her.
"Then be mad at him, but don't give up on us. I'm not asking you to forgive him-"
"I don't." A quiet stuttered breath came from Bruce but still Rachel did not turn around. "Of course I don't." The hand on her wrist tightened and Rachel knew that Damian wanted to hug her, knew that all she had to do was step back and bury her head into his chest. Knew she would be taken back home, safe and sound, away from Bruce away from Spyral. After lingering for a moment she pulled her wrist out of his grip and he let her. Still she didn't turn around. Tim spoke up quietly.
"Spyral is the enemy Rachel. You know that you have to. Choose to be a hero, choose to fight against them."
"Agent 37." Rachel looked up at Tiger, and she thought of the month she had experienced. A month without fear, a month of independence and friendship. She thought of what Minos had said to her earlier in his office. Bruce was manipulative and abusive, and it was hard to leave him. And maybe her siblings couldn't but she could. She started walking to Tiger again, and this time no one stopped her.
"I think you're wrong. And I'm not going to fall in line just because you ask me to." She turned back to her family when she reached Tiger. Bruce was still staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Damian looked remorseful as though he longed to wrap her up and take her away, to change her mind but didn't know how. Tim looked lost, as though confused about how they had gotten here, confused by how this could happen. And Cass just stared at her, head tilted, just watching. Finally, she turned her attention to Jason. If anyone would understand it was him. "You've said it before Jay, he doesn't want children, he wants soldiers. And I-I can't fight his war, not anymore." Jason watched her for a moment, his face unusually blank until finally he nodded.
"Do what you have to do. Just know that we will be here if you change your mind." Tiger leaned over to her, hand on the small of her back. She saw Jason watching him closely, but she turned her attention back to her partner as he whispered in her ear.
"I'm sorry but we have to go… Midnighter-" She nodded and turned away from her family. Gesturing for Agent 1 to lead. He stared at her for a moment before jumping off the roof and running towards the extraction site. She was about to do the same when Damian's voice spoke up again. This time closer than before.
"Rachel… Please don't." Looking over her shoulder she met her brother's gaze, and though she felt guilt at leaving him, she could not find it in her to regret her decision.
"You died." She said quietly, desperation leaking into her words. "You died Dami, and then I died and I'm so tired of fighting a losing battle. I'm tired of being weak." Looking away from her Brother she jumped off the roof and began running towards Tiger.
She did not think of the pain on her brother's face at her words. Did not think of the relief on Tiger's when he saw her approach the helicopter. She only had one thought.
I hope this is the right choice.