Sometimes things just happen. It is a rule of life that we all often forget.
Reality strikes at the worst of times, but it keeps us focused. We notice more when we feel like we can't possibly make it through a situation.
Often there is no one to blame.
I think that is why we're always so angry at the world. We want to blame something.
In short, life sucks.
And for some, more than others, it sucks more.
It doesn't make sense.
It's unfair.
What is fairness?
I can't tell you that, because for me it seems the universe is intent of destroying my fragile existence.
Nothing is fair.
Nightwing smiled as he greeted the team. He was leaning on Sphere, with Conner on Sphere's other side.
"Nightwing!" Cassie raced forward for a hug. The team greeted him jovially.
"Nightwing, why have you come?" Kaldur asked, self-assured and calm as always. No accusation stained his voice.
"I've been a dick." Nightwing smiled slightly, as if laughing at a joke to himself. "I thought I could come and help out with the mission today." The black of his uniform contrasted with the white sand of the beach.
"We appreciate it." Kaldur replied. The Alpha team: Cassie, Bart, Gar, Kaldur, and Conner, for this mission was going to stop a rising drug lord's trading before it reached the mainland of Asia or America.
"Thanks for letting me join." Cassie and Jamie were hovering on the beach. Kaldur filled some pouches on his belt with salt water. Gar was chewing over-dramatically, his teeth changing from canines to buck teeth, and then back to human teeth. Conner rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. Nightwing took a deep breath, glad for once that Robin wasn't around. Or Batgirl, or Wally (back from the dead! Or the other reality he had been sent to), or Artemis.
Conner had already called him out on it, but those four wouldn't have let it rest. The obvious bruise on his cheek, rising from under his collar got him some strange looks from the others, but that was it. Nightwing laughed silently as he thought of how much everyone babied him. It was humoress because Nightwing was usually looking out for the others, yet they had convinced themselves that they needed to look out for him.
"Let's go." Kaldur said his pouches full.
I don't like to complain. It doesn't get you anywhere. Usually, it just makes others not like you. Then people avoid you. That hurts. But I feel I deserve this. I should be able to complain as much as I want now. Shouldn't I?
Please don't give me that look. I understand you're just trying to help, but… damnit! Fuck! I…
Why? I think I'd rather have my skin pulled off me in perfect square inches that remember what happened. I can't change it, now can I? But, I once ignored that thinking before, didn't I? I wish I could just go back and change everything for the best every time something bad happened. But I can't.
I know.
Bad things happen. They just do.
The small island wasn't very pretty. The rocky coast was barren, and vegetation was just grasses and a few shrubs. Sneaking towards the large, cement wall topped with barbed wire and cameras at every corner was difficult. The Alpha team was thankful for Nightwing's input and advice on how to sneak by. Gar and Jaime were able to insert a virus into one of the cameras. It played a loop allowing the others to climb the wall (Or like Conner just jump over).
The barracks were close to abandoned. The few guards were taken out quickly. Once inside the compound, things were much more interesting.
Each member slipped down a long hallway and started to clear out the soldiers and other occupying the compound.
It was dinner time though.
The group met up outside the cafeteria. Kaldur held up three fingers. He put each one down slowly. As the third finger went down, the group burst into the dining area. Shouts of indignation, surprise and rage greeted the heroes.
With the rat-tat-tat of the semi automatic weapons as theme music, the boys dance along the walls, each partner they grabbed soon falling.
Conner grunted as the bullets ricocheted off his tough skin. Bruises would form, but not before Conner leapt across the room and bent the gun out of shape and delivered a knock-out punch to the shooters.
Cassie carved out lines of soldiers from the dense crowd. None could touch her. She was an Amazon, worthy of her title.
Bart whipped around the edge of the room. Any figure holding a gun soon found themselves triggered empty air.
Jaime followed Bart and gave a small sonic blast to each confused soldier. The trail left by the two friends gradually spiraled towards the center of the large room.
Gar roared. Many of the soldiers had never seen a lion in real life. If any were able to stand and think straight through their fear, Gar pounced and his massive weight convinced many to not try to fire their now mutilated guns.
Kaldur used his salt water. The blades of rapidly moving water were as deadly as steel. Kaldur carefully aimed each stroke to either destroy a weapon or changed the shape of his own weapon to knock out an opponent.
Nightwing had leapt over the first row of soldiers and started in the middle. Jumping on shoulders and taking out peoples ankles, he quickly cleared an area in the center of the cafeteria.
I don't feel like talking.
It's done. We finished the mission.
Does it fucking matter? Does what we did fucking matter at all?
Bastards will still hit their wives, or kids. Bitches will still drink and ignore their kids. Kids will still do drugs to impress jackasses. We just make ourselves feel better by doing this.
I'm done talking.
There is nothing to speak about.
The cafeteria was cleared in minutes. The Alpha team shared smiles as they caught their breaths.
After waking up one poor soul, the Alpha team learned where they needed to go. Following the man's directions, the team raced through the long hallways. Stairs hidden behind a nondescript door led them down.
In the deepest depths of the barracks was the factory. Bart had to stop to gag. Gar heaved a little onto the metal catwalk at the scene. Hundreds of people worked. Their beds were on one side of the room, their bathrooms the other. The space in the middle was full of tables. Beakers, flasks and various other chemistry tools threatened to fall off the tables at the slights mis-movement. The raw drug was dumped down a shoot. Children raced to grab large handfuls. The children fought harshly for the blackest of the roots, clawing at eyes and kicking at crotches and stomachs. When they were satisfied with their load, the children raced to their tables. Mothers, or at least women, took the roots and proceeded to attempt to chop the hard root finely. Blood stained many white tables, but the roots were kept clean.
One woman cut herself and blood dripped onto the root. No one reacted as a guard came, grabbing the woman's tangled brown, gray-streaked hair and dragging her towards the bathroom end of the hall. A couple border guards joined the first and the beating started. No one stopped to watch, or cam to help.
The woman's spot had been filled with a younger woman.
The root, once chopped was brought to the next table. Here young men and more women boiled the root. There were twelve open flame burners on each white plastic table. Once the root was boiled to satisfaction, the young men took the root to the next table. Here, older men started crushing the small root bits and wrapping the sludge in rice paper. The final table was to let the drug wrapped in rice paper dry. Identical to a popular candy, the plan had been to switch the candy with the drug. Thousands to millions of peoples with a knack for sweets would die from such a potent dose.
"This is why the drug must stopped!" Nightwing snarled. All sorts of people were in the hot, putrid smelling, dark hovel under the spacious barracks. Africans, Asians, Mexicans, Europeans, no one was discriminated here. All suffered together, in unity, to the death.
I feel sick. I don't wish to talk about it.
I must?
I… can't!
They were so sad! The children, the women, the men! I am not one to pity, but my heart was ripped from my chest!
How could they let people suffer like that! How could anyone just watch! I… Oh gods…
Hera, help me.
Someone, please, tell me… it's over isn't it?
It's done. It must be.
Nightwing and Gar, being able to hide and crawl without being noticed the best, slinked across the room.
Kaldur stayed by the door, ready for anyone to come running down to warn the guards in the lower levels.
Bart mixed himself in with the children. Most didn't even look up to see where the extra hands came from.
Jaime sent out radio waves, giving the men below false reports of what was happening above.
Cassie, after a few steadying breaths, mixed in with the women. Taking the knife from an elderly woman, she used her superior strength to chop the hard wood like butter. The woman looked upon Cassie in wonderment.
"Thank you!" The woman wheezed.
"Please, stay hopeful and silently spread the word. You are all being freed from this hell!" Cassie hissed, passing on the chopped root and grabbing the next one. Already she could feel the despair poisoning her lungs.
Conner, having stolen a uniform that barely fit, stomped down the steps. His high head and cold features gave no room for argument. None questioned his right to just walk between the tables. All shied away from him, even the men who stood a head taller than he. Conner felt his stomach twist. No human should feel like this. No being for that matter.
I appreciate this meeting.
The mission?
I would classify it as a success.
But, I feel as if I have left something undone.
I do not think any of us can be the same. Not after that.
I worry mostly for the younger among us, for they are the most impressible ones, and through this they have learned.
You do not need to die to see hell.
Nightwing gave a hand signal to Gar, who was hidden as a rat. Gar dropped the floor and scurried through people's feet. A few of the children, with their heads always down, noticed and jumped. No one screamed. Gar hid under a table and returned to human form.
With a slight glance up, which down here no one ever looked up, Conner saw Nightwing's brow crease in frustration. The original distraction plan hadn't worked. Plan 'B' was dangerous. Conner reached under the table and grabbed Gar, hoping Nightwing wouldn't act just yet. Gar whined and begged, much like the woman from before had. Conner pretended to ignore him. No one looked up, except for Cassie. The elderly woman next to her yanked her head down. Again, Conner's gut clenched.
Cassie was still as the old woman's hand was tight in her hair.
"You are new here. You must learn quickly." The old woman said. "There is but one good news." Cassie nodded to keep the woman talking. "Here, you are below trash. Not like American Slave trash, but truly, you are not human, you are not bull; you are a beetle. You do what they want you to do, and they feel nothing but contempt for you. You worry not about your own safety, unless you out of line." Cassie's blood ran cold. "Do not stop working, ever. Do not look up. Do not speak. Work." The old woman's spit wet the side of Cassie's face. Cassie didn't react. "Good." The old woman said. A loud gasp came from Cassie's right. Cassie didn't look. The space where the old woman had been was replaced with another woman. Cassie didn't look up.
Kaldur listened at the staircase. He watched his team. Their first distraction plan had failed twice. Kaldur looked up and met Nightwing's covered eyes. He had a choice to make. Kaldur briefly wondered how Nightwing could have agreed to this. Kaldur was being asked if he could possibly sacrifice a friend. Said friend had offered to be sacrificed. Was it trust in his team? Was it suicidal tendencies mixed with a need to save the world? A quick glance at the people covered in shit and blood and tears convinced him. Kaldur looked up to Nightwing, still hanging close to the ceiling and watching him. Kaldur nodded.
It doesn't make sense!
He doesn't!
I would die for this team. He would die for a stranger.
Is he loco? Or am I selfish?
He inspires me though.
I think he inspired all of them.
He's a soldado. A personaje. Very special. We all are. I think he reminds us of that.
He reminds us of hope, esperanza.
They needed that. It hurts though. Sometimes you need nothing but…
But to be reminded why to live.
Nightwing broke eye contact immediately. He loosened his line and dropped directly onto a table. Guards yelled. Guns went off and finally (finally!) the people reacted.
Screams echoed through the cavern, only magnifying the raging gunfire. Nightwing flew over the bullets, and ducked under tables. Bart and Jaime made sure the people were out of the way. Nightwing kept the guards' attention on him as he leapt around the room. Soon, the guards' backs were to their prisoners. A rallying cry rose up. The people overwhelmed Bart and Jaime, and dragging Cassie with them, attacked the guards. Cassie flew up and, with Conner, Bart and Jaime tried to stop the people. Reason was over ridden. Cassie barely ripped the fake uniform off Conner before it was too late.
In their own fear, the guards turned on each other to get up the stairs and to the steps.
The prisoners screamed and any who fell were crushed. The smallest taste of freedom and they were drunk. One guard, shooting his comrade in arms, raced to the door. Kaldur stepped and clotheslined the man. The man fell, but Kaldur caught him. Pulling the man into his arms, Kaldur jumped the railing and landed on the floor. The prisoners, screaming raced up the narrow staircase.
The echoes of the pounding feet went on for many minutes.
Kaldur jumped when a hand touched his crouching shoulder. Conner, clothes torn and bruises already fading, took the unconscious man into his arms and Cassie helped Kaldur stand.
Bart and Jaime joined them next, Nightwing leaning on the Blue Beetle's armor. Blood leaked from a wound in his thigh and another bullet had scratched his face. A strong hand covered Nightwing's abdomen.
"Got stomped on." He explained. Gar dragged himself over, bruises bright on his now pale skin.
"Same!" Gar coughed. Cassie smiled sadly and lifted Gar into her arms as the boy turned into a small monkey.
Stragglers, the sick, young and elderly, and a few who had retained their reason, made their way to the surface. Nightwing release Jaime and the group went around assisting others to the surface.
In the long hallways, which were trashed, the group of thirty made their way to the outside.
"Do you hear that?" Conner asked, stopping the group.
"No, what is it?" Kaldur asked.
"A jet of some sort." Jaime said. "Blue sent a reading out. I'm getting the specifics… now." The sound was now reaching the common person's ear.
"A private jet?" Nightwing asked, leaning as much on and elderly man as the man was on him, and a young girl with her arms tight around his leg sniffling.
"No… a drone!" Jaime hollered. Team Alpha snapped into action. They shepherd their group of people into the largest room available, which happened to be the cafeteria.
No one looked down at the crush and brutally killed soldiers that had been unconscious, or just regaining consciousness when the prisoners had gotten free.
"Hera, please help me." Cassie prayed.
I really want to thank you for still doing this.
Really, I think it helps the younger heroes. You know, just talking really helps.
Me?
I'm fine. You know where I live, where I was raised.
Yeah, yeah, back on topic.
It was horrific, that's for sure. Just one of those things you can't un-see.
It really tells you something…
The blast defended all in the cafeteria. Almost an hour went by before anyone moved. Most had been knocked unconscious.
Conner had gone around gently shaking others awake.
The children refused to walk. The elderly found themselves unable to.
Conner held the still unconscious guard over his shoulder, the old woman who had spoken with Cassie in his arms, and the first woman they saw beaten on his back.
Kaldur held a young child in one hand and supported a man with his other arm. On his back he carried a woman with a badly infected foot.
Jaime held two young girls in his arms and two boys held tightly onto his armor on his back.
Cassie assisted two proud elderly people on either side of her.
Bart carried two toddlers. They cried for a mother that would never come.
Gar, swallowing his pain, changed into a horse. One child and two, hunched over elderly were lifted onto his back. A stronger man walked next to Gar, holding onto his mane tightly.
Nightwing picked up the small girl who had been clinging to him. He assisted the elderly man who had been leaning on him (and he on the man), and they followed the group. The final three people followed. The group moved impossibly slowly out into the courtyard.
There was no compound. On the coast, the red of the bioship glowed. The worried beta team racing over the flattened land. All around the Alpha group were the burned bodies of the prisoners and remaining guards.
"Oh gods!" Cassie broke the silence. The running beta team would take a few minutes to get to them, as they were over a mile away.
A groaning caught Nightwing's attention.
Gar had changed into a large dog, and the children flocked to him, rubbing his long, silky fur. Nightwing helped his elderly man to sit with the children. The other survivors followed the children.
The Alpha, minus Gar, team followed Nightwing.
Nightwing crouched next to a blackened body, barely breathing. A hand shot out and tightened around Nightwing's arm. The team, including Nightwing jumped, but the hand didn't release Nightwing's arm.
"We are free... Thank…you…" a guttural, and mucus filled voice coughed out. The grip on Nightwing's arm tightened, and the man died. The hand loosened and fell. The smack it made against the dirt was sickening. Jaime turned to vomit.
"Nightwing, our help has arrived." Kaldur said, watching the running figures grow as they neared the scene of horror. Nightwing just nodded.
Sorry, zoned out a bit didn't I?
I told you! I'm fine! I'm fine. I'm fine…
It hurts.
So many people died! How the hell did the government even find out about that compound? Why did they bomb it! Why!
Sorry… please, give me a minute.
It doesn't make sense? How does killing stop killing? How?
But the survivors.
They survived. They're in new homes, all very close together. A little girl writes letters almost everyday to us.
That, if nothing else is what keeps me going.
It gives me hope.
Dinah looked down at her notebook. She had recorded everything from her conversations with the Alpha group. She had written down a few phrases that stood out to her.
"You should be a poet." Oliver whispered into her ear. Dinah jumped.
"Ollie, I wish. But these are not my words." Oliver snuggled into her neck.
"Then that bastard is one heck of a depressing poet." Oliver whispered into her ear. Dinah laughed and turned to face her long-time boyfriend.
"You're the bastard here!" She kissed him deeply.
"Ready for bed? It's almost dawn." Oliver said, reaching a hand out. Dinah smiled and took his hand as she stood.
"Perfect." She said, sliding into Oliver's embrace as he led her to their bedroom. The notebook stayed on the coffee table of the penthouse. It would for years until a grabby five year-old Lian would snatch it and scribble over the printed words until they were no longer readable. Roy would apologize, but of course, it 'wasn't a big deal; just some scrap paper.'
Dinah would carefully scrape off the crayon until she could read the paper and typed out the words. Much had happened since then. She had stopped being the team therapist. Her ringing comm. unit startled her out of her reminiscing.
"Hello Batman."
"I need to you to go to Oracle and tell her…" Dinah would laugh as Dick hid a plea for forgiveness in his message for Barbra.
"Richard." Dinah interrupted. Dick paused.
"Yes?"
"Does it still give you hope?"
"What?"
"When people tell you to… never mind. Just… found some old notes."
"Ok. Well, hurry to Barbra!"
"I'll tell her your sorry again, don't worry."
"Wait! That's not what I-" Dinah hung up and reread the mock poem one last time.
"I guess it was more of a team thing really." She muttered to her self.
Nothing is fair
Bad things happen. They just do.
There is nothing to speak about.
It's done. It must be.
You do not need to die to see hell.
But to be reminded why to live.
It really tells you something…
It gives me hope.
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