8 Years Ago

"You sure you want this, youngin'?" I was sitting in the tattoo parlor chair late one night and I was watching the artist there, needle in hand and it was already buzzing, ready for use. It was one in the morning, I had a few beers in me but I wasn't close to being drunk, I could hear the mass music off in the distance and some of the people walking to and fro on the street. I had a few friends in there in the parlor, watching me do this recent dare that they threw on me and thought I wouldn't do go through with it. But I knew I had them good when I agreed without a blink or an eye.

I felt as thought I needed to do something that was a good change for me in what was going on in my life, a new fixation that wasn't going to treat me lower than dirt. This was what I needed, something to both feel the pain that I was still alive and to show that this was not going to hurt me.

"Do it,"

"Let me see that shit," I moved the collar out of the way, showing the diamond tattoo on the back of my neck and the neat handwriting that read Stay Gold. I thought it looked perfect, beyond perfect and one of my friends named Stacy giggled in delight.

"That looks legit, Rose! You have bigger balls than my boyfriend!" She said in a snort as her boyfriend, Travis slapped her along her ass.

"Hey!" He retorted.

"It's true, babe. You can't do something like that!" She replied, pointing to my new tattoo as we walked down the street in the nightlife of New Orleans. I smiled, breathing in the sweat of the streets and the alcohol that was still in the air and the music flooding the night from the plenty of nightclubs and bars.

"What made you do a diamond?" He asked, having me pause a bit to look over at him. I told none of them of what I could do since I was strong enough in my own ability to be able to not have it be thrown out into the blue. I could control it, bring it out when I wanted or disappear when I wanted. It was a matter of thought control and breathing, along with keeping myself calm and collected. But for them to know that part of me, that wasn't supposed to be in the cards. I was too nervous to do something like that, let alone thinking that I would be taken away for some reason. With the news blaring about metahumans and their dangers to society, that would not be a pleasant conversation starter.

"I just like diamonds."

2 Hours Later

"How long were you out for?" My dad asked me, looking over at me now as we were standing there in the hallway after he saw me being dropped off by Stacey and I walked over to go into the house. Apparently, he waited up for me and wanted to meet me at the door in his pajamas, and I knew I was going to have some kind of fight coming since his breath was drenched in alcohol, far worse than usual. Recently he's been trying to find a way to fight with me, either it's been layoffs at his jobs, or jut his own marriage with my mom failing day by day. My mom, God rest her soul, was still wanting to fix it and keep me close enough within reach to protect me from him.

But sometimes I was on my own.

"For a few hours, dad," I reassured him, seeing the anger there in his eyes now as he was watching me and the blurriness there on his face. He hated me, I knew that he hated me for being a metahuman and for being different, I was not the daughter that he wanted nor was I ever going to be. I was going to get the blunt of his beatings and hate with his eyes and words. I learned to roll with him, not to fight back since it was better for me to be older and run as fast as I could. I was still willing to stay for my mother's sake, but that was it.

"Don't you dare lie to me!" He growled, his slurred voice was still low on the bass and was venomous now.

"I'm not, dad," I reassured him now, leveling my own voice and seeing the boiling of his age about to come over him within seconds, his hand raised and he punched me hard into the wall. I was used to his beatings, I knew they were coming sometimes.

But this time, I didn't see the beer bottle in his hand when he punched me.

Present Day

"Won't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?"

"Nah, Everytime I put this on, somebody dies."

"And?"

"I like putting it on."

The clothes that they gave me were more military than anything else, compared to the rest of Suicide Squad. I had a pair of military pants, boots, a black underarm shirt that was short sleeved and a military vest over my shirt and fingerless gloves that fit me perfectly. I felt like I was more of a soldier now, which bothered me since it didn't feel right in my opinion. But this was far better than me wearing my prison clothes that I was used for the past 5 years. before I placed the fingerless gloves on my left hand, I looked down at my palm, seeing the diamond that I tattooed there on the skin and I felt as though I was conflicted, walking a very thin line with what I was about to do: Aid villains.

I could hear thier conversaation as they were talking together like this was some kind of mixture and they were getting to know each other. At least it felt like it to me as I watche dcarefully from a distance, though it was a bit harder to hear since I was hearing other conversations, but I could hear enough.

"Hey, what's that crap on your face, does it wash off?" Boomerang asked the Tattooed man in wonder and in almost a tease, holding his own weapons there and waving thme around like they were a part of his body.

"Hey ya'll might wanna leave old boy alone. He could torch this whole joint. Ain't that right ese?" Deadshot asked him then, trying to have the tohers elave him be as I looked down at my palm there, seeing the tatoo and thinking about what I was going to be capable of doing myself really. It felt like I had nothing to tell them, at least not anything interesting. It was already hard enough to be a metahuman, but to be one and helping villian was worse.

"That a tattoo?"

It was a thick accent, but it was warm at the same time, I froze there hearing it behind me as I looked over to see who it was that spoke up. It was the tattooed inmate, peering at my diamond in the palm of my hand. He looked interested in it, like one artist looking at the work of another. I looked down at my tattoo immediately covering it up with my fingers since it felt a bit foolish to have it out in the open. But I could see in his face, how his own tattoos were moving against his skin and in the sun, he wasn't going to do anything to me as I stood there with him a bit close to me.

"Yeah," I replied, seeing him look over at me with his warm brown eyes. A couple of others walked over to me now, with their own attire on as I stood there in an awkward manner, not thinking of what I should do in that position. The only one that wasn't there was the crocodile man, whom as hunched over his things in his own tub and was going through it with his clawed fingers. The tattooed inmate walked away then, like he didn't want to be in the mass group of them and wanted to be on his own before I could even ask him about his own, or just talk to him, in general, to see who he was.

"What's with the diamond tattoos? Is that some kind of kinky thing you have then?" Boomerang asked, once again sound too cheesy for his own good.

"Goddamn dude, can you get your own head straight for once?" Deadshot asked in a snort to him, Boomerang shrugging his shoulders with his big grin and rearranging his big jacket that he had one.

"You both ain't classy enough for her tattoos, ain't that right dollface?" Harley asked me in her wicked grins as she was in her own clothes, too revealing and too much in general for my taste. I didn't know how else to react to her but to nod and she giggle, the giggle itself almost sounded a bit too sinister for my liking.

"Tattoos, if you do 'em right, can tell ya plenty of a person," She explained to the boys there with a smirk there, "Homeboy over there can tell us plenty of his woes of life from just lookin' at his face," I looked to see the inmate that she was talking about, the one that she called Homeboy He was alone there, looking at what seemed to be his old gang jacket.

"What did ya do in get in that joint?" Deadshot asked me, having me eye him now as I moved my hair from my eyes and grabbed the spare bandana I asked from Flagg to move to place around my hair.

"Not a Goddamn thing," I replied smoothly, seeing him raise his eyebrows at me now as Boomerang nodded.

"People don't like metahumans, none of them, mate. Ain't ya heard?" He asked Deadshot as Deadshot looked over at him now, "They throw them prisons. Not reason, mate."

"Then there are people like us, too damn evil to run amok," Harley purred as she walked away from me, Boomerang joining her and Deadshot watching me for another moment two before he walked away too. I thought about that recent conversation that I just had with some villains as if they were meeting another persona t the bar. They weren't threatening me, still testing the waters with me sure, but they didn't see me as either a threat or prey. Did they see me on the same level playing field? I had no idea.

I moved over a bit from my spot to walk back to the middle of the area where I knew we were going to move out, seeing the tattooed inmate standing there and watching me carefully now as he then pointed back to my hand again, his jacket on him making him look a bit more muscular with his white beater on underneath and baggy pants with white shoes.

"Whoever did that did a good job on it," He commented, almost in a huff now as I looked down at my hand, slowly opening it up again to see the tattoo and I nodded.

"Pedro at the shop does a good job," I replied softly to him, not wanting to sound hard myself.

"Where did you get it done?" He asked me, taking another step over in a small sound like he was nervous just talking to me in general.

"Mid City Voodoux, over in New Orleans," I explained, seeing him nod his head as I placed my glove on and he motioned with his head over to all of my diamond tattoos that I had here and there along my skin.

"You like diamonds I take it?" He asked seeing them there and I nodded one again.

"I learned to embrace what I have, show it off without been seen," I explained, watching him study me and almost accept it, but was still a bit moved from how I said it. I did learn, later on in life, that what I had was not going to go away anytime soon, so better embrace it in any way that I could rather than pushing it away and calling it quits and hating it.

"What's your name?" I asked him, seeing him pause from the question like he wasn't seeing that one coming from me.

"Why you wanna know?" He asked me, almost suspiciously, having me think that I overstepped it with him and wasn't going to be interesting in talking to me. I nodded, shoving my hands in my pockets then and was walking away from him.

"Forget it," I replied to him, seeing him watch me now as I moved past him to head back with the rest of the group. it made me feel foolish to just go up and talk to him, not even knowing more about him and why he was a villain in the firs place. It felt like the rest of them were meant to be villains, with him thought it felt like he didn't belong here. He might have looked it, but something in how he spoke or in how he carried himself seemed less threatening and calmer. I walked over to the line of the villains as Rick Flagg spoke to us.

"Behold the voice of God," I looked over to see Rick Flagg holding out an iPad and a screen image coming up, the image of Amanda Waller. I watched her now as she was facing us all in a line

"For those of you who don't know me officially, my name is Amanda Waller. There is an event in Midway City. I want you to enter the city, rescue HVT1 and get them to safety," He explained on the screen with her stone face there in place.

"I'm sorry, uh," Deadshot said in a stammer, "For those of us who don't speak good guy, what's HVT1?"

"The only person that matters in the city, the one person you can't kill. Complete the mission you get time off your prison sentences, fail the mission you die. Anything happens to Colonel Flagg and I will kill every single one of you. Inmate Talbert that you recently met is under my protection and care, something happens to her, you all die too." Some of them looked over at me as I was looking at the iPad now, seeing myself going a bit frozen from the inside out now.

"Remember I'm watching. I see everything," She was then clicked off the iPad and Rick placed it at his side.

"There's your pep talk," He said to Deadshot in a deadpanned face.

"So that's it? We're some kind of suicide squad?" He asked him now, unmasked as to what was ahead of us as Rick walked past him with his other soldiers.

"I'll notify your next of kin."

Wonderful.