"Talk."

Missy didn't say anything for a long time. Instead her eyes were looked on her pale fingers, which were playing with the sleeve on the black t-shirt she was wearing. She knew she had to tell him the truth, he had after all stood up for her in a way no one else had ever done, but it simply hurt too much. "Hey Missy, ye t'ere? I said talk." He had drawn one of his boomerang, and in a second of madness Missy thought he was going to throw it at here. Instead he began cleaning his teeth with it, using it as a toothpick. Which was probably not the best idea in the world, since it was pretty sharp, but who was Missy to judge other people's ideas?
"I wasn't born like a normal person." Her voice was shaky, but if it was because of the stuff they had just witness, or because of the things she was about to tell him was hard to say. "I was built in a test tube: A guy delivered the sperm and a woman delivered the egg, and then they build the right embryo and placed in a third woman's womb. They made twenty of us: most didn't make it past the pregnancy, and those of us who were born, died because of the changes in our gene. Those of us who made it were placed with a handler; Mr. Robertson – the man in black you saw before – was the one in charge of our handlers. My handler was a sweet lady, maybe the one who gave birth to me, I don't know. And she cared about me. The handlers weren't supposed to care for us: they were supposed to feed us, change us and make us stop crying, but she did more than that and as I grew up I got to love her like my mom." She fell silent, still not looking at Digger.

They were hiding in an abandoned house somewhere in the countryside. With everything going on, Digger had decided that hiding at a motel was too much of a risk, so they had hidden the car in the old shred that belonged to the house and were now hiding in what used to be the old living room. It was cold as hell, but none of them seemed to notice: Missy was too caught up in reliving her story, and Digger was too caught up listening. "I was five when my power started showing. They weren't that strong in the beginning: books floating in the air and people feeling slight pushes when I didn't get my way, small stuff."

"Really? I fin' t'at hard to believe, Dollface since I just saw ye fight a w'ole army."

"They got bigger fast."
"How?"

"… Through experiments. Mr. Robertson quickly discovered that pain was a way to make powers grow in a meta-human, so that's what they used." She stood from the old couch she had been sitting in, finally looking at Digger as she pulled the long-sleeved t-shirt over her head and let it fell to the floor, exposing her body underneath. Digger had been right in one thing: she had a killer body, but it was mostly because it looked like it had been dead. It was covered in scars (some as big as his hands), burn marks, acid marks and cuts. Actually the look of her scared arms reminded him of the Joker's face, which was something he didn't exactly find comforting.
"Shit. T'at looks nasty as hell."

"No really Boomer? I didn't realize that, thanks for telling me." Missy shut him a poisoned look before she started to pace the room. She reminded Digger of a caged animal, but since she clearly didn't wanted to hear the truth he didn't pointed it out.
"When I was ten they made me kill my handler. Maybe it was to test my powers, or maybe it was to get rid of her since she had grown so found of me. Maybe it was to punish me, I don't know."
"How did they mak' ye do t'at?" She had told him that she cared about her handler too, so Digger didn't understand why she had killed her.
"They forced me." She answered with a shrug before walking over to him. When she reached him she stopped to turn around and lift her hair, exposing the back of her head. As the rest of her body this area was also filled with scars, but where the rested looked random these looked too neat to be other thing that from operations. They were thick, thicker than the scar you got from one operation (Digger knew since he had had his appendix removed when he had been eight), which meant that they must had opened her skull again and again, making each scar thicker than the last. He would have felt sick, had it not been because his attention was caught by an exceptional big scar right behind her left ear. Unlike the neat scars this looked like it had been inflected by something else than a scalpel. "They implanted a chip." She explained. "In the brain right behind the left ear. They did it too all of us, and each time we opposed something they wanted us to do, they would turn on the chip, which would send electric impulses straight into our mind. Kind of like the Bender did."

"But ye don' have it anymor'?" He kind of felt like he wanted to touch it, and kind of like he was going to throw up. Instead he took a step back as she let her hair fall back in place and turned around.
"No, I pulled it out."
"How?"
"I figured out where it was, and I ribbed out using telekinesis."
"Shit!" It had hurt like a bitch, but Missy didn't point out that she had nearly passed out from sheer pain.
"And then I escaped. I was fifteen, and I've been on the run ever since."

He was silent for a while before reaching out to deliver a slight push to Missy. "Put som' clothes on or I'm guna be sick." She shot him a dirty look, but did as he asked. "So what's guna happen now?" He asked as she got dressed once more.
"Now we run." She sounded so sure, like that was what they would do, that he didn't react at first, then he snorted.
"I'm not runnin' from anythin'."
"You have to. You helped me, so now they're gonna come after you as well. An enemy of my enemy or shit like that."
"How can ye be sur' they'll come after me?"
The sigh that left Missy was as deep as the ocean, as she sent him a glare almost like he was really slow. "Because I know them, that's what they do. Do you really think you're the first one who has helped me all these years?"
"So they'r' guna come after me?" He repeated, which made her knock. He pondered for a while. It wouldn't be the first time he was on the run, but mostly he ran from a guy who was as fast as the speed of light (which made running a little hard). But this could have been avoided if he had just backed out and agreed to hand over Missy to the British Bastard. "What if I turned ye in? Then they would hav' ya, and I woul' be free to go, right?"
"Maybe, probably yes." Missy couldn't be sure, but on the other hand: what good would he be if he gave her up to them? A disturbing though really, but not a thought she hadn't considered before. He was after all a bad guy, and bad guys weren't known for taking care of each other.
So when he drew a boomerang Missy wasn't surprised. She was disappointed, but not surprised. "Maybe I'll just have to give ya to 'em."
"Try it." She hissed as her eyes grew electrified and her powers woke. "Try it and see what happens. I just ripped the Bender apart, what makes you think I won't do the same to the mighty Captain Boomerang?" He hesitated for a while before he slowly lifted the boomerang to use it as a toothpick once more.
"I said 'mayb',Dollface, doesn't mean I'll do it. I might be an arsehole, but I'm not dat big of 'n ass. But I don't like running either, which mean we will hav' to do somethin' else." His word surprised her. He wasn't going to give her up, even if it would mean he could be free from being hunted? Maybe she had misjudged him. Or maybe this was part of some bigger plan, although he seemed sincere when he asked his next question: "So what if we got rid of 'em? All of 'em, would they still hunt us?"
"You can't get rid of them, Boomer, they'll just train some new guys."

"Train them? Where?"
"On the base." Another long silence from the bearded man, before he finally lowered the boomerang to send her a sly smile.
"This base, where is that?"
"It's hidden in the Nevada dessert."

"Do ye think ye could find it again?"
This time it was her who hesitated before slowly nodding. "Yes, I'm certain I could. Why?"
"Is it the only place t'ey train soldiers an' build meta-humans?" he continued, ignoring her question.
"As far as I know, yeah. Why?"
"So if someone were to destroy the base t'ey would leave ye alone, rig't? Leave me alone too?"
"I guess so." She wasn't sure she liked where this was going, even more as the smirk on his face widened.
"So all we hav' to do is find the base an' destroy it?" She just stared at him, wondering whether or not he had finally lost his mind, gone in too many beers or too many blows to his head.
"You gotta be kidding me! We can't do that!"
"Not alone, no," he admittet. "We would need som' help."
"Help?" She snorted. "Who the fuck would ever consider helping is: a drunk bank robber and a meta-human?"
"I kno' a guy." He said, almost grinning now.
"Yeah? Who?"
"You might kno' him: he wears red, likes to run fast and is mor' of a smartass than ye would believe."
"…. You're not serious."
This time he actually grinned as he nodded. "Oh but I am, Dollface. Time to get a hold of Flashie."