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"Are you okay?" Tamry asked, looking up from where she was tucked against Digger's chest, gripped between his bent knees, both of them on their side on the hard marble. It was a very awkward and not at all comfortable position, yet the woman wasn't in any rush to leave it. He lifted his head from where it hung back and gazed at her, exhausted, but whole.

"You?" She nodded in kind. He shifted, clearly not comfortable either, and rolled onto his back, keeping her against his chest like a child holding a teddy. "Good. Fuck, I need some amber fluid and a long soak in - what's 'is?"

Whatever it was that caught Digger's attention, Tamry couldn't see because it was under the bench. He carefully rolled the detective off and turned onto his stomach to creep beneath the heavy wood to get at the mysterious thing. Sheer used the bench for support as she stood on legs that were shaky with fatigue and relief.

The sun was rising, the pale gray illumination of dawn filtering in through the gaping hole in the roof. The rest of the squad were picking themselves up, looking around in the same hesitant way as Sheer, half expecting another attack to come from nowhere. That was unlikely, given the jittering panic being displayed by their adversary. Enchantress was crouched in the divot that had been cut into the steps, hunched and feral, her eyes darting from one threat to the next. As ragged as they all looked, she was more or less surrounded and, having blown her proverbial load magic wise, she was fairly at their mercy - not something anyone in the room was known for. The question was, what the hell were they going to do with her?

The witch couldn't be trusted and forcing her into obedience had proven fatal for Amanda Waller, so trying to return things to the way they had been before was completely out of the question. Still, June Moon was in there, somewhere, and completely innocent. No one seemed inclined to take the burden of her death on their shoulders.

"That was a great shot!" The colonel grinned widely at Lawton. It was the first time Tamry had ever seen him really smile, but even she winced when he tried to pull Deadshot into a manly hug. The assassin shook his head, leaning awkwardly from the soldier's embrace.

"I don't do hugs," he declared. "I'm not a hugger."

Digger stepped up beside Tamry and nudged her gently. "Is this what I think it is?" he asked, softly horrified. She looked to see what he was talking about. In his hand rested a small bundle of dried grass, feathers, and who knew what else, bound tightly with black cord wound through a hag stone. The fetish emitted a weak, sickly green glow.

"Rick!" Tamry gasped instead of answering the Aussie. Flag turned away from his failed bonding moment at her call and when his eyes fell on what Boomerang was holding, his whole demeanor changed. Wide eyed and open mouthed, he took the space between them in two steps and snatched the talisman from the other man, whirling back to the cowering witch.

"You bring June back," he demanded, looming over Enchantress menacingly, but there was a desperation in his voice that belied how truly vulnerable he was. His words were a forceful order, but also a pathetic plea and the witch just sneered up at him. "Bring her back!"

"She's not coming back," she hummed, cruelly pleased with herself.

Flag held the heart aloft for her to see, clenching the fragile bundle in his fist. "I'll crush this," he threatened, voice cracking. "Do you hear me? You bring June back or I'll crush this!"

"Go ahead." The mud smeared hag snickered at the soldier. "You don't have the balls," she scorned, then let out a malicious cackle.

Rick stared at the witch, his eyes shining, brimming with tears, his face shifting from anger to abjectly stricken. He held the fetish, Enchantress's heart between his hands and did what they all knew needed to be done. He crushed the talisman, grunting and hunching forward as if it were his own heart being destroyed. Tamry knew that it may as well have been. A hand, hot and sweaty curled around her own and she gripped it tightly. The hag shrunk in on herself, curling up like a dying spider and let out a hollow, rasping shriek as Flag crushed the life out of her. With a final jerk of her limbs, Enchantress slumped back onto the smooth glassy surface beneath her.

Rick dropped the fetish and jackknifed upright, twisting away from the sight of his lover's body, corrupted and now lifeless. He staggered across the marble, moving as if blind, until he hit a bench and lost his footing. Folding over beside the bench as if it were a pew and he about to genuflect, the man collapsed in on himself with the pain of his loss, of his failure.

Tamry stared at the body laying just feet away and burned with anguished rage at the injustice of it all. June hadn't deserved any of it. She didn't belong on Taskforce X, she wasn't a killer or a thief, she wasn't even a fighter! The woman was just caught up in evil and magic and madness. Even amidst all that, she'd let herself fall in love, only to die at the hands of her lover because the thing, the parasite that had latched onto her was too dangerous to let live. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. She didn't even look like herself. June was sweet faced and delicate; smeared with mud, her hair stringy and caked with dirt, she was barely recognizable.

Sheer pulled away from Digger. His fingers twitched as her hand slipped from his, clearly reluctant to let her go, but not wanting to force her. The big Aussie wasn't cut out for this sort of thing any more than June had been. Harkness was a fighter, but he wasn't a killer like the rest of them. She knew if she looked up at him, his blue eyes would be just as wet as her own. But she didn't look, not willing to offer comfort or seek it herself, too filled with seething anger. Instead, Tamry moved to drop down beside the body. The corpse. June was a corpse now, she realized with a cramping stab to her stomach.

Pulling the too long sleeve of the rain dampened Captain jacket over her hand, the emotionally overwrought detective carefully wiped the mud from June's face. The black-brown loam gave way to the paleness of skin. It broke Tamry's heart to see that Moon's cheeks were still pink, even in death. She lifted her other hand and traced the flush with shaking fingers, feeling the lingering warmth that had not yet fled the empty flesh.

The body twitched and Sheer snatched back her hands with a start. Before she could berate herself for her pointless sentimentality and anger over the nervous system expelling the residual electric charge, June's mouth snapped open and her ribcage surged upward, expanding in a sudden sharp gasp. Tamry jerked back, flinging herself away from the inexplicably animated corpse before her and falling down the stairs.

"Tam!" Digger barked her name, rushing to the horrified detective. When June abruptly sat upright, the Aussie let out an undignified yelp and all but wrenched Sheer from the floor.

"Hey, Flag!" Floyd called out to the broken soldier, the assassin's voice uncharacteristically unsteady, unsure. His words fell on ears deafened by grief, it wasn't until his fallen lover whimpered his name that Rick raised his head.

Seeing June looking back at him with her murky blue-green eyes, the soldier let out a strangled sound of raw emotion, surging to his feet and rushing towards her. He was ungainly and careless, tripping and dropping hard to his knees, but didn't notice in the slightest, only finished closing the distance between them in a desperate half crawl. Flag caught up the trembling woman, torn between holding her so close nothing could ever tear her away again and staring at her in disbelief.

"I thought I killed you," he said in a voice comprised of air, awe, and guilt. June only shook her head, tears streaming through the mud still smeared on her fact, and pulled her lover down into a frantic kiss.

"Tam," Digger said her name in a soft, questioning tone and when Sheer looked up at him, the man was gazing down at her with an uncertain, questioning sort of awe. "Did… did you do that?"

Tamry immediately shook her head, as petrified of the concept as he was. Moreso even. "I didn't do anything," she told him and it was the truth. She hadn't done anything. Had she? No! Of course not. "The witch just lied when she said killing her would kill June. We probably should have seen that coming."

"Right. Makes sense," he nodded, but didn't look as convinced as she'd have liked. Sheer frowned up at him.

"I didn't do anything, Digger," she insisted a second time. "You don't think if I could keep people from dying, Slipknot would still be alive?"

Now it was Boomerang's turn to frown, clearly remembering how the death of their former teammate had upset the detective. Of course, there was no guilt over his own part in the man's demise, she was glad to see.

"Good point, darl'," he conceded.

"This is Tango X-ray Alpha requesting medical support and evac at Harper Street Terminal. Area has been cleared."

"Copy that, Tango X-ray Alpha."

The voice, Tamry was shocked to see, belonged to a very worse for wear GQ Edwards, sitting propped up against a hunk of stone not far from the hole his bomb had left in the floor. One of his shoulders was lower than the other in a way that indicated a dislocation and there was a large amount of bruising on the side of his face. His legs were stretched out in front of him, but one of them just didn't look right and the detective was very glad his pants covered whatever was wrong with it.

"Did you just swim up out of there?"

The soldier gave a dry laugh, wincing and pressing a hand to his ribs - probably broken given the state of him. "Nah. Just woke up, though. What the hell happened?"

"We won," Digger grinned.

"Wait, what do you mean you just woke up?" Deadshot asked, dropping exhaustedly onto a bench. "You see a fight goin' on in front of a magic lightning spire and just decide to take a nap?"

"I don't even know how I got here, man," the lieutenant insisted. "A bunch of those things jumped us in the tunnel. I didn't have time to rig the remote detonator, had to set off the charge by hand."

"You set off the bomb?" Lawton demanded. He glanced at the crater and pointed. "That bomb?"

GQ let out a single scoffing laugh and nodded. "Yeah. I mean it's a focused charge, so the blast was directed upwards, but still. Next thing I know…" He motioned at himself sprawled on the floor looking like he went three rounds with a cement mixer.

"You're welcome," Croc growled flatly from the shadow of a pillar, his reptilian eyes reflecting the early sunlight spookily.

"You dragged me out?" GQ asked, but didn't wait for confirmation. "Last time I saw you, you were wrapped up with three of those things. You're one tough SOB, Waylon. Thank you, man."

Croc nodded silently in acceptance of the gratitude, clearly not used to such a thing. Tamry shot him a proud smile. The way his shoulders hunched slightly, she wondered if he might actually be bashful at the moment. It didn't last, of course.

"Waylon?" Digger cut in, bewildered. "Ya' real name's Waylon?" When the lizard man nodded, Boomerang smirked. "No wonder y'go by 'Croc'."

Tamry elbowed him in the ribs. The Aussie grunted, but wasn't cowed; he just grinned down at her insolently.

"Tango X-ray Alpha, medical is inbound. Evac ETA fifteen minutes."

"Copy that." It was Rick who answered the comms. He was still holding June close and tight, as if she might slip away again. He looked around at the rest of the squad. "You heard the man. Fifteen minutes and we're on our way back to Belle Reve."

Floyd let out a tired sigh and levered himself up off the bench. "Better get moving then, huh?"

"If y'all don't mind," Waylon intoned pointedly. "I got me a sewer to crawl back into."

"Yeah, I got some business to take care up back in Gotham," Lawton said, stretching his back as he headed for the steps. Harley grinned, coming up beside the assassin to reclaim her pistol and tuck it away in its holster.

"I'm gonna hotwire a car, need a lift?" she asked, all bubbles and pep, despite her horrendously smeared makeup and the bruises standing out on her alabaster skin.

"Your ass is not drivin'," Deadshot decreed. The blonde gaped in offense.

"Why not?!" she squeaked.

"'Cause I wanna live to get there," he responded flatly. Quinn rolled her eyes and didn't dignify his comment with a response. Instead, she turned towards Tamry and Digger.

"You comin'?"

It was tempting. Leaving now, letting Flag deal with the fallout and debrief and lying over and over about what had happened, not having to wait weeks or even months to go home and try to contact Harkness where ever the hell he'd have run off to; so tempting. But she couldn't. How would she explain to Gordon why she was back with no official communications from Waller? The Taskforce might be dissolved with no members, but that didn't mean the suits wouldn't come looking for her for answers.

Before she could decline the offer, however, Digger asked, "Y'mind stoppin' in Atlantic City along the way?"

"Feelin' lucky, Boomy?" Harley grinned with a waggle of her eyebrows. "Wanna hit the casino?"

The Aussie shook his head. "Nah. There's a little chapel where a bloke'll marry y'dressed as Gandalf."

Tamry gawked at him. While her mind tried to make sense of the words 'marry' and 'Gandalf', Quinn bounced on her toes and clapped like an excited toddler.

"I love weddings!" she squealed gleefully. "I get to be ya' maid of honor, right?"

The detective's brain kicked back into gear and she held up her hands to ward off the absurd notion. "We are not getting married!"

Harley's face instantly fell into an exaggerated pout. "Poop."

"Course we are," Digger insisted jovially, completely unaffected by his reluctant fiancé's incredulous rejection of the joyous news. "Y'said so y'self, sugar. My ass belongs to you, right? And ya'-"

The death glare Tamry immediately sent the brash scumbag's way made his grin widen to obnoxious proportions, but he didn't say the words they both knew he was about to

"-heart belongs to me," he finished instead. The doc cooed sweetly, swooning over the sentiment, prompting Floyd to roll his eyes in disgust. "Oughtta make it official, y'reckon?"

"I am not drivin' to Gotham with a couple newlyweds in the back seat," the assassin decreed.

Harley started to reprimand him, a grin almost as big as Digger's plastered across her face. Her left eye twitching disconcertingly, Tamry started to contradict the delusional groom-to-be. Croc had started to just head out of the terminal. None of them got far, as a quiet electronic peal cut into existence. As soft as it was, the sound may as well have been a claxon striking every member of the squad silent and still. Amanda Waller, disheveled, her suit wrinkled and smudged with dirt, strolled into the open air of the terminal, tired, but very much alive.

"How are you not dead?" Lawton demanded. It was that sort of thing that kept Sheer from believing in the concept of karma. They'd fought all night long, were beaten, bruised, bloodied, and exhausted, and there she was, holding her nanite detonator, thumb poised over the faces of the people who had just saved the world.

"We just saved the world!" Quinn echoed Tamry's thought, but with far less vitriol than the detective felt. "A 'thank you' would be nice."

"Thank you," Waller immediately and perhaps sincerely intoned. The blonde perked with pleasant surprise and nodded, apparently satisfied with that.

"You're welcome." She really was crazy.

Floyd was less than impressed with the display of gratitude. "So we did all of this and we don't get shit?"

"Ten years off your prison sentences," Amanda offered, as if it was reasonable recompense. It wasn't. Digger started laughing with incredulous scorn and Croc all out snarled. Deadshot shook his head.

"Nah, that's not enough," he told her, then added unbendingly, "I'm seeing my daughter."

Maybe it was the fact that she was exhausted to or maybe it was to keep the someone from shooting her before she got the chance to blow their head off, but Waller let out a weary sigh and surrendered. "That can be arranged," she told the shooter. Then, looking around the group, "Any other requests?"

For a bunch comprised of some of the most dangerous, deadly, and insane people in the world, their demands were shockingly, humblingly simple.

"An espresso machine!" Quinn requested, highly pleased with herself for having thought of it. Croc demanded cable television, specifically BET. Harkness gave another laugh that was so dry and disbelieving, it sounded like a choke.

"Ten years off a triple life sentence?" he demanded with contempt. Pulling himself up to his full six foot plus height, he stalked up to his jailer. Shoulders back, chest pushed out, eyes hard as his mouth curved into a viciously challenging smile, Captain Boomerang cut an incredibly intimidating figure. He spoke in a smooth drawl that promised violence, "Darlin', I'm walking outta here a free man or we're gonna start havin' some real fun."

Waller actually took the last two steps between them herself, looking up at the big Aussie with eyes bright and more than fearless - eager. Her voice was a low rasp of anticipation when she practically chewed the words, "Why don't we have some fun?"

Sometimes Harkness wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but the man wasn't stupid, not by a long shot. He wasn't bloodthirsty the way Waller was. The woman wouldn't hesitate to kill him; by challenging her, he'd already tipped his hand that he did was reluctant to be as equally cold blooded. There was a moment of awkward shifting from Boomerang and Tamry took pity on her foolish lover.

"C'mon, Captain. Knock it off," she said softly, urging him away from Waller and her detonator. He huffed and rolled his eyes, as if the altercation didn't matter in the slightest, making his way back to where Sheer stood waiting.

Harkness didn't take her hand or put his arm around her, he didn't even stand suffocatingly close, as he had been all night. At first, Sheer thought it was because he was upset about having his freedom snatched away from him at the last second, then she worried her reaction to his ridiculous unilateral decision that they were going to get married on the way to Gotham had injured his feelings somehow.

Finally, the detective realized he was keeping his distance because of Waller's hawk-like eyes watching every move any of the squad made. He was trying to protect her and her place on the team by downplaying their new closeness. In the throes of passion, Digger had said those three little words over and over and, while Tamry had all but drowned in them in the moment, she hadn't actually believed they could be true. No one was speaking, save for Rick and June's quiet murmuring, and the stillness afforded Sheer a few moments of quiet contemplation.

Since they'd first fucked, George had become demonstrably possessive and protective to the point of clinginess, but that wasn't what Tamry was going over in her mind. She was scrolling through months and months of interactions with the big Aussie and finding more and more things she'd overlooked or underappreciated at the time. There was no doubt about it, he'd risked his life to save hers the day she got shot. He'd constantly pestered her about her sex life, but half the time the questions were completely innocuous and mostly about why she was alone. She hadn't let herself believe the man had tried to go back into the fire Chato had started, but… he had. He even tried to kick her out of his cell when she'd gone there for sex - if that wasn't a screaming sign, she didn't know what was. So… was it possible Captain Boomerang actually did love her?

It definitely was. Fuck… she apparently loved the scumbag back, too.

"We got a DB over here!" one of the EMT's shouted to his compatriots. Three of them were hovering around GQ. They'd cut his pants off and Tamry had made sure to remain looking resolutely in the opposite direction. She didn't have a problem with gore, but she wasn't a fan of it either and she'd watched a couple dozen up close decapitations already that night. Her eyes found Digger's and saw the recognition there mirroring her own. There was only one body they might find amongst the rubble in the terminal.

The medical helicopter had arrived first, bearing the EMTs and their gear. Once Edwards was stabilized, they'd haul him out on a backboard and head for the closest hospital. The transport chopper that would take the rest of the squad "home" to Belle Reve had apparently been preemptively commandeered by Waller - who was currently getting a basic debrief from Flag - so, they'd had to call for another. Both were still inbound, but the one for the team was at least ten minutes behind the first, so they had to wait. Sheer could only hope their helo arrived before the medics carted Chato's mangled corpse out into the open.

"Shit, I got a pulse!"

The words set off a bomb between Tamry's ears and the whole world rocked sideways. As they had several times that night, sure hands caught and steadied the off kilter detective. A pulse. He found a pulse. A pulse meant a beating heart. It meant life.

"He's alive!" Quinn's shrill shout cut across the redhead's consciousness like Katana's blade.

Alive alive alive.

Sheer looked up into Digger's wide blue eyes, the pair having a silent argument in signals of frowns, shaking heads, and furrowed brows. It wasn't possible. Yes, Chato was immune to fire, but nothing else and certainly not a concussive blast. The explosion should have literally torn him apart. Harkness's hands tightened on the detective's upper arms, giving her a single, tiny shake to drive home his unspoken point. Chato Santana should have been dead. GQ Edwards should have been dead. June Moon should have been dead. Yet, there they all were, injured, broken, but breathing, hearts beating, alive.

But every other member of the support unit was dead. Slipknot was dead. Tamry had been there for all those deaths. Her presence hadn't changed a thing. She felt a sick wrenching twist of horror and guilt as a sudden bolt of clarity shocked through her. The lives lost meant nothing to her. She hadn't even known the names of the men on the support unit tonight, they changed so often, cookie cutter soldiers taking the place of those fallen or simply quit. GQ had been with the team the longest of anyone, almost felt like part of it. Slipknot… every emotion tied to the man's death revolved around Digger and how easily her not-yet-lover could have joined him - she felt nothing for the loss of Weiss himself.

Whatever Waller thought was special about Sheer, was it impeded by her ambivalence towards the lives of those men? If she'd only cared would they still be alive? The world tilted again and her stomach heaved; thankfully there was nothing left in her belly but the memory of whiskey. It didn't make her a monster, not caring - it made her human. The lives of those that matter to you are, by definition, more important than those that do not. These weren't innocents, either. With the exception of Weiss, they were soldiers; they knew the risks they took. If there was some crazy gypsy voodoo shit going on with Temerity Sheer, she wasn't going to tie herself up in knots with guilt over deaths she had no control over.

"I need to sit down."

Amanda Waller was clearly exhausted. She was the puppet master, deadly calculating and vicious, but a fighter she was not and the night had visibly drained her. However, she was still sharp as diamond cut glass and when her ride showed up, she told them to hold until the other transport arrived. Apparently, she didn't exactly trust in Flag's sense of duty at the moment. That concerned Tamry greatly. If your general isn't leading his armies the way you see fit, you find another who will. Flag was obstinate and imperious, the definition of a hardass, but he was also a good man and didn't abuse his power. Any replacement Waller chose was, as far as the detective was concerned, a threat to the squad.

Then there was the issue of Harley Quinn's escape attempt. Sheer didn't know Waller well enough to anticipate how the woman might address the incident. Would she feel the need to give the doc some 'corrective education'? The blonde had put several of the guards at Belle Reve into the hospital and they were all perpetually itching to get payback for the injuries, so the difficult part wouldn't be finding people willing to give Quinn a brutal attitude adjustment, it would be keeping them from going too far. Tamry had made it clear to Griggs that she wouldn't tolerate any violence on her people that wasn't instigated and, even then, if the COs went too far, she'd take some corrective action of her own. But she couldn't be there 24/7 and with Waller giving the green light, it would be impossible to keep her friends safe in within the walls of the prison.

And Waller had been one twitching thumb away from killing George. That was beyond unacceptable. Tamry understood the need for the leash the nanites provided when dealing with incredibly dangerous individuals, but that understanding only gave Waller so much rope where the detective was concerned. If she ever stepped over the line, Waller would be stepping into her own grave.

Of course, the resultant mortality a fatal act against the squad promised was revenge and not deterrent. Waller didn't know that she'd be killing herself if she pressed one of those buttons on her little device. If Sheer let on what would happen, either through vague hints or blatant threats, Waller would just boot her off the team or have the detective, herself, killed.

The paper folded in Tamry's pocket, she realized, said otherwise. Amanda Waller thought she was a metahuman. Believed it so strongly that she'd orchestrated a scenario where Sheer actually thought she was volunteering for Taskforce X and not being recruited. And what Waller believed was that Tamry had some sort of power over life and death. A slithering tendril of and idea started winding its way through Tamry's mind and the thought made her lips slowly curl positively Grinch-like.

When the second transport arrived, the bedraggled squad ambled tiredly out of the terminal. Waller stood just aside, waiting until all her little pawns were on the chopper, detonator clutched tightly in her hot little hand. Tamry sidled up beside the woman, ignoring the way the others eyed the pair questioningly as they went passed.

"Just between us, because I know they're dangerous and should not be running around free," Sheer said, almost congenially. "You can use that to scare them and, hell, I could even understand self defense, but that's as far as it goes."

"Is it?" Waller asked, cold and flat. The redhead nodded. "I don't respond well to threats, Detective Sheer."

"It's not a threat. They die, you die," the detective told her in no uncertain terms. "But since you want them to live, to keep on fighting the good fight, it shouldn't be an issue, right?"

Waller looked at the other woman, her shiny onyx eyes boring deep, burning with savage intelligence and no small amount of defiance, things that, no doubt, served well in her rise to and tenacious grip on power. Tamry didn't flinch, knowing that any weakness she showed now, her friends would suffer for.

"It shouldn't be an issue," the dangerous woman finally conceded.

"Good." Now was the perfect time to give a perfectly mocking mild smile and go rejoin her team, secure in the knowledge that Waller would put her own self preservation over her need to eradicate any noncompliance in the most permanent way possible. Tamry didn't move. "Things are different now, you know. They weren't fighting for themselves this time. They saved the world. They saved you. You and the world owe them. Things are going to change at Belle Reve. They'll still be locked up, you'll still have your team, but you're going to make some changes."

"I am?" The emphasis of the inquiry was on who was making the changes, not whether the changes would be made. That gave Sheer a warm flush of triumph that she didn't show in the slightest.

"Of course," she said, smirking slightly. "You're the boss. And you appreciate the effort the squad has put in. You're already letting Floyd see his kid, giving Harley an espresso machine. A few more creature comforts can only build on that good will."

"I see. Is there anything else I'm going to do that I should know about?" Waller was tired, but still feisty. If she wasn't so icily evil, Tamry might have liked her.

"You're not going to replace Flag," the detective declared. "Which you shouldn't mind. It'd be really hard to recruit someone to lead this band of misfit toys who won't be tempted to use that detonator."

"That's a good point."

Tamry smiled, wide and toothy, practically channeling her big Aussie. "All my points are good points. Have a good flight. Get some rest, you look like you need it." She started off towards the chopper where the rest of the team waited. A thought struck her and she turned back, calling parting salvo to her boss. "Oh, he forgot to mention it, with the whole threat of death over his head and all, but Captain Boomerang wants a nice, long bath."

That, on top of everything else, was apparently too much for Waller and her face pinched with annoyance. "You can take care of it."

Tamry's obnoxious grin returned and she gave the other woman a salute. "Yes, ma'am. It'll be my genuine pleasure."

I think I got one more chapter in me. Phew, literally, more than twice as long as I intended this fic to be. lol