I thought sickness was just a point of view
But I found that I was wrong when I found you
Can't get these words in out my head
And u can't shake the things you said

For Rachel, moving was painful, all she could do was lie in bed and wait to heal. That was possibly the worst thing in her mind right now, because all she could do was mentally kick herself for her foolish stunt two days ago. There was no real excuse for it other than blind idealism, which was truly unforgivable in her books.

Luckily for her, the gunshot wound wasn't serious, it was just excruciatingly painful. Bruce had been able to treat her relatively easily, for which she was grateful. Apparently, his nightly activities also included unexpected gunshot wounds to the gut.

Still, a bullet was a bullet and Raven of the Titans was now out of commission because of that unfortunate fact.

Sighing, Rachel stared up at the white ceiling in her room, slightly propped up against the pillows on her bed, unable to do anything for herself. It was humiliating really. As someone who prided themselves on being an independent and capable person, needing someone to bring her meals, help her walk to the bathroom, and bathe was probably the greatest blow to her ego possible.

Regardless of Rachel's idiotic behaviour that led to her brief imprisonment, she was grateful that Gar and Kori had come for her. At first, she had doubted they could pull it off on their own, but now she saw that she had been underestimating them this whole time. If anything good came out of that whole ordeal, it was the development of the least experienced members of the team, Kori in particular.

Other than brief moments of power, Rachel had never seen Kori go as hard as she had that night. It was the only thing that could have got them out of that situation. The girl's confidence in herself and the bravery she displayed were much more prominent than they had been when Rachel met Kori back in high school.

And Gar…well she had been surprised at his words to her over the communicator, particularly his outburst. They had been harsh—harsher than anything he'd ever said to her before—but he later explained that he was upset by her insistence that they leave her behind. Other than that, the fact that he had been determined to save her, and reassured her at every turn evoked a warmth in Rachel's chest. One that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Richard had been furious that Kori and Gar went to save her without him, but with the mission's success and the clear benefit that success had on Kori and Gar, he forced himself to keep his mouth shut. Rachel was sure that it was against his very nature to keep his opinions to himself but was glad he fought that urge. The last thing they needed was more inter-team conflict.

Vic and Jinx had returned from New York yesterday. Once they had heard about Rachel's predicament, they rushed to get a plane back. Personally, Rachel thought that had been pointless as they were too late to be of any help, but the sentiment didn't feel awful. When they returned and paid her a visit this morning, she could tell something significant had occurred between them. What exactly that was, she had no idea. It was like the two were cool again, but their relationship had changed further than mere reconciliation. The idea of that didn't exactly thrill Rachel, as she had disapproved of Vic and Jinx's attachment to each other from the very beginning, but she had resolved herself to minding her affairs rather than theirs.

A knock on the door brought Rachel out of her wandering thoughts.

"Come in," she croaked, voice hoarse from not having spoken in a while.

Arella came in with a tray in her hands, approached Rachel's bed, and sat on its edge.

"I brought you some dinner. Bruce said lots of protein would help your injuries heal better."

"…Thanks."

"Do you need any help."

"I'm fine," Rachel shook her head slowly as Arella placed the tray on her daughter's lap. Chicken and quinoa. Not her favourite, but good for her recovery. If she was being truthful, Arella's cooking was a bit bland, and normally Rachel took care of it, but that wasn't exactly an option now.

An awkward silence fell between the two as Rachel slowly and painfully ate her meal. Arella wasn't getting up to leave for some reason. Normally her mother gave her space and rarely bothered or pushed her, so the sudden change in action was odd.

Rachel shot her a quizzical frown as she chewed her food, swallowing before saying,

"What?"

Arella's smile was tight and apprehensive and her eyes were sad,

"I don't want to pry—"

"But you will, so just get it over with." That came out harsher than intended.

Arella nodded, getting to the point,

"What happened over there, Rachel? With your father I mean. He didn't hurt you? Did you try and talk sense into him or something?"

"Talk sense into Trigon? Yeah. Stupid I know." Shame flushed across her face. Admitting missteps hurt.

"What did he do?" her mother asked with a voice of concern, probably fearing the worst.

"He hugged me," Rachel said, disgust coating her tongue, hardly able to manage to say it, "I tried to appeal to some alleged humanity, I said if he turned himself in, we could be a real family. It obviously didn't work. Once he realized he had me back in the house he decided I couldn't get away again and locked me in a room."

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That we'd be a family."

"Of course not!" Rachel scoffed, surprised that this question was even being posed to her, "You lived with him, he's a monster and I want nothing to do with him."

"If he is a monster, then why did you try to appeal to him like he was a human?"

"Because I miscalculated! I thought maybe there was a person in there but there wasn't!"

"And if there had been? What would you have done?"

"I…I don't know."

That outcome hadn't crossed her mind. Going into the situation, there was hope that she could get through to him of course, but she never even considered whether she actually wanted the future she had posed to Trigon. A future where she considered him her father. Thinking about it now, she didn't think she did. Maybe at one point in time when she was a child, but not now.

"You're wrong Rachel," Arella said quietly, nervous at her daughter's reaction, "You're wrong about Trigon. There's a human in him. I've seen it."

Rachel's brain nearly short-circuited at her mother's words. Completely dumbfounded, it took her a moment to collect herself and respond,

"Holy shit Arella, are you still in love with him?" She felt like someone had just fed her poison. The very idea that after all the years of abuse Arella suffered at the hands of Trigon, and watching him abuse her child, that she might still have residual feelings for him equally horrified and revolted Rachel.

"That's not it, Rachel. But when you're married to someone for over seventeen years, you learn a little more about them than you might think. You see them in many different moments, good and bad. Trigon is a man who I never want to see again, but I still pity him. For someone to do the things he does, don't you think there might be a more complicated answer for why other than 'he was just born evil'?"

"It sounds like you're giving him excuses."

"I don't mean to, for all his crimes, he ought never to see the light of day again, and he deserves nothing from either of us. Yet still, I pity him. Imagine thinking that the loving thing to do is force your family to stay with you and that hardening your child to the world through abuse is the right thing for a parent to do."

"What's your point in saying all of this?" Rachel answered, "You want me to forgive him for the things he's done to me? To everyone he's hurt?"

"Forgiving someone doesn't mean condoning or excusing their actions, or even ever setting eyes on them again. It means letting go of your anger and resentment. I can feel the bitterness you carry; it's a burden, isn't it? It weighs on you every day and you hate yourself for any resemblance you have to him, even the very fact that he was part of your conception. Don't you want to let that go?"

Rachel's face was tense, holding back any emotion that threatened to come out. fFr some odd reason, she almost felt like crying. To have someone completely pinpoint every insecurity that came with her parentage left her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"I—" The back of her throat closed up, cutting off whatever she was going to say.

"I know you're still upset with me too. And I…I hope that one day we can be properly mother and daughter. That one day, you'll confide in me openly. It's what I dreamed about from the moment you were born."

"Arella…"

The woman continued her thought, looking down while her eyes lost focus as if she were imagining a happier reality she daydreamed about,

"It's a little selfish, but I'm happy I have this chance to take care of you like this. When you were a child, that was taken from me, so to do it when you're all grown up…" With a sad smile, Arella trailed off and shook her head as if she thought what she was saying was too silly a thought to finish. She got up from her seat on Rachel's bedside, "I'll come back in a bit for your tray. Let me know if you need anything else."

Rachel couldn't even manage a proper response.

After he visited Rachel, the first thing Vic did was hop in the T-Car and drive to his dad's place. If there was one thing that his trip to New York taught Vic, it was the potential for permanent heartbreak resulting from addiction.

Seeing the pain of the Harper family, Jinx included, had pierced his heart in a way that he couldn't shake. Silas Stone's drinking and the deteriorating health that followed from it was no longer something Vic could tolerate. He's been foolishly complacent with his dad, wanting to give him time to grieve his mother, but after all the years this had gone on, he was just enabling the man at this point.

Vic could never forget the grave of Annabelle Harper and the anguish in Jinx's entire person as she stood in front of it, coming to terms with her new reality, the reality that her mother was never coming back. At that moment, he saw his father's grave and himself standing over it, wrought with guilt over not doing enough.

The weakness Vic displayed towards Silas was nowhere else in his life, but it was in the place where it mattered the most. He was weak when his dad needed him to be strong. Too scared to say the truth when his dad needed him to be brave.

Driving to his dad's townhouse was a quicker trip than usual, likely due to the speed Vic was going. He felt almost like the few minutes saved by speeding were crucial and if he didn't have them all would be lost and his father would be gone. That was ridiculous of course, but it still felt that way. The wheels screeched against the pavement when Vic stopped in front of the house and put his car in park. It was the same house Vic had grown up in, small but nice for a place located in the city.

Vic ran up the steps and unlocked the door as quickly as he could.

"Dad?" He called out when he entered, "You home?"

No response.

Vic did the rounds to make sure Silas wasn't passed out somewhere, and other than some empty bottles scattered about that hadn't been cleaned, the house was empty, messy, but empty.

Grabbing his phone out of his jean pocket, Vic sent him a quick text asking where the hell he was. It was answered a couple of minutes saying that Silas was on his way back from the lab. So, pushing aside the crap on the nearest couch to make room for him to sit, Vic made himself comfortable.

Looking around at the mess before him, Vic was ashamed that he had just let his dad live this without saying anything. Newspapers, bottles, half-eaten plates of food, and a whole other load of shit were just strewn about. It was both sad and pathetic. The worst part was that Vic had seen all this before, but not done a damn thing. On one hand, Silas was responsible for his own actions, but Vic also couldn't just let him be without saying anything or trying to help.

Self-loathing pushed its way in, and Vic forced it back out. It would be okay. He was changing starting today. Dwelling on past mistakes would do him no favours, that's just what Silas did and look where it got him.

About twenty minutes past before Vic heard the front door open up.

"Victor?" Silas's familiar voice called out through the silence of the house, "What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York another few days?"

Silas emerged from the hallway and into the sitting room, his tired eyes indicated an all-nighter at work, but other than his apparent exhaustion, Silas appeared sober. Thank goodness, it would have been an even worse conversation if he wasn't.

"Hey Dad," Vic smiled, but Silas looked worried despite it. Guess the gravity of the situation was showing on Vic's face, "We got home a few days early cause of a work emergency."

"Oh, sort everything out okay?"

Vic nodded,

"Yeah, no worries. Everything's under control."

"How's Jinx doing?" His dad actually liked Jinx quite a bit, so along with the empathy that came with losing a family member, Silas had been particularly concerned for her when he'd heard the news about Annabelle.

"Good as can be expected. Her fam is pretty broken up, but they'll be alright. That's...actually kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Jinx's family?" Silas rubbed his shaved head in confusion.

"Did Jinx ever mention to you her family situation?"

"No, but that girl kind of screams 'tough childhood'. I think it's the pink hair and chip on her shoulder."

Well put.

"Her mom was an addict," Vic said, giving his dad as telling a look as he could manage without actually saying what he meant

Silas wasn't getting the hint,

"That's tragic. Kids should be able to rely on their parents."

A cocktail of frustration, anger, and concern bubbled over and Vic got up suddenly,

"Are you shitting me?! You should be there for me!"

Crap. He hadn't wanted to yell, but the lack of self-awareness his dad had was infuriating.

"Victor, what are you talking about?"

"Take a damn hard look around Dad," Vic gestured abruptly to the evidence of nights alone cradling bottles of booze, "You're just as sick as Jinx's mom!"

"Stop being ridiculous!" Silas was starting to get worked up, exactly what Vic had been avoiding for years. Didn't matter now, let him get mad, he needed to hear what Vic actually was thinking.

"I'm the fully-functioning adult, not you! I had to move out while in high school cause you were such a damn mess. I'm the one who has to come help when you're too drunk and crying about Mom! Pam's the one covering for your drunk ass at work so you don't get fired! Can't you see that you're not the dad that I grew up with, you're a shell of him."

"You can't pretend to understand," Silas answered, looking down with pain in his expression. That pain was so familiar to Vic it frustrated him now. It was what he used to excuse everything he was doing. "When your mom died, I lost everything."

"But I was still there! Was I nothing?" Vic shouted, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes, "And stop acting like you're the only one who lost something! I lost my fucking leg and both of my parents! You may as well have died back then, because you are not the same!"

Silas flinched at Vic's words, as if a hard reality had slapped his face,

"Alright, I'm sorry. But please just try and understand, I'm coping the best I can, just let me do it in my own way. I promise I'll do better."

"I've let you do that for years Dad, that shit sucks. And as if I haven't heard the 'I'll do better' speech a million times before," Vic said, then groaned in exasperation, "Auugh, you're so selfish! I cannot believe you're going to just keep drinking yourself to death and let me lose another parent. Can't you think about me, just once?"

"What would you have me do Vic?" Silas rubbed his forehead, stressed by the conversation, "I can't exactly forget what's happened."

"I'm not asking you to do that. I haven't forgotten either. Just…get some help…please."

"I don't need help Vic; I don't have an issue with drinking. It's just a bit to take the edge off."

"More like cut the edge off with a hatchet," Vic muttered before speaking louder to say, "Look, Dad, you're not going to like this, but if you refuse to get your shit together, or even try, I can't keep doing this with you. I am not doing to watch you kill yourself slowly."

"Victor…I…I can't."

"You can. But you won't," Vic sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He walked past his dad, not sparing him a glance, and walked down the hall to the front door. With his large hand on the small handle, he paused, "Call me if you change your mind."

When he received no reply, Vic turned the nob and left.

When Richard had heard that Kori and Gar had gone to save Rachel without him, he had been livid. Not just because he knew that they could have been hurt or the fact that something worse than a team member getting shot could have happened, but also because he wanted information. On Trigon. On Slade.

It was a missed opportunity but at least from what he had been told about the whole operation, there had been no time for intel gathering anyway. Honestly, his anger had been quelled when he found out they had been successful, and everything had gone relatively according to their plan. If it hadn't…he didn't know if he could have lived with the fury and guilt over not being there.

Rachel would be fine, out of commission until further notice, but fine, nonetheless. Gar took charge in leading himself and Kori through Trigon's hideout. And Kori…well she had taken out twenty men with her fists alone.

While the two of them were still dating, he recalled her expressing the apprehension she had around the unnatural strength she possessed. He'd known since their stint in detention that it had been a huge issue while she was a child and that it was not something that she felt comfortable with since. To think that Kori had been able to utilize something which had once caused her so much insecurity and fear...

Richard's heart had swelled with pride when he heard that.

It quickly was dampened when the realization that he couldn't celebrate with her in her victory sunk in. It was his own fault, and while he hadn't given up on his plan for Slade, the consequences for his plans were difficult to bear. Giving up your future life with the woman you loved wasn't exactly an easy trade-off for retribution.

Currently, Richard was in the training room, making a mess of a punching bag and trying to squeeze every last drop of frustration in his body out on it. He'd paid a visit to Rachel earlier and figured he might as well train while he was there.

Sweat beaded at his brow, and he could feel it trickle down his face and neck. After all, if he didn't go hard, then why bother at all. Regardless of whether he wanted to kill Slade or not, he needed to be strong. Something big was coming to Jump City, there was no doubt of that, and Richard would be ready.

Had Richard not been listening to the screeching noise of electric guitar and screamo music through his headphones, the soft noise of a door opening would have registered in his brain. It wasn't until he saw something move in his peripheral vision that he whipped around to see the very object of his conflict.

Kori.

She was dressed in a tight purple workout top and simple black leggings with white stripes adorning their sides. Long, auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail and held against her scalp with a headband. Her face was bare, and Richard suspected that if he was closer, he would be able to see the very light dust of freckles that speckled her nose.

Well, damn him if she wasn't the most beautiful person he'd ever met.

Kori gave him a tight smile and an awkward wave.

Pulling his headphones out, he responded, still hearing the faint sound of his music that was now muffled by the distance,

"Hey."

Real smooth Dick.

"Hey," she answered quietly, averting her gaze to some training equipment, "Do not let me disturb you."

"I—It's fine."

When did he become a stuttering teenager? For crying out loud.

Kori began her workout, practicing her attacks against the air. There was a ton of power behind them, but Richard couldn't help but think that she'd have a much easier time training if she had a sparring partner.

There was no way she'd take him up on that offer, even if he set aside his pride to ask.

Sighing lightly so that she wouldn't hear it, Richard went back to the punching bag. Had be been paying for attention, he'd have noticed the glances Kori gave him, wishing to find a conversation topic between the two of them.

Eventually, he felt a tap on his bare shoulder and he turned his head to see Kori, who looked a little sheepish,

"I hope this is not an odd request, but would you mind assisting me?"

Richard suddenly was without words. Like his tongue wasn't working anymore, so he wordlessly nodded his head and when language found him again, he asked,

"W—what is it?"

"I just need some pointers on fighting," she said. Her hands clasped behind her back, as she twisted her body back and forth nervously, repeatedly bending her leg up and letting it fall so that the tip of her shoe tapped the ground, "I might have power, but my technique is lacking. It is nowhere near the level of you or Rachel."

"Sure, let me get focus pads and we can start."

When Richard had found the equipment they needed, he slipped his gloves on, holding the pads on each hand outwards to Kori,

"Are you not going to tell me what to do?" she asked uncertainly.

"Just give me as powerful a punch as you have, and we'll work from there."

She did.

Richard stumbled back, not at all prepared for the sheer force behind her attack, he'd have to brace himself better next time.

"Holy shit," he let out a huff of laughter, completely in awe, and feeling-if he was being completely honest with himself-a...uh...romantic excitement of sorts.

"Did I do it alright?"

Straightening up, Richard shook those emotions off,

"Your form is pretty poor."

Geez Dick, stop being such an asshole.

Surprisingly, she didn't seem offended.

"Then what do I do?"

For the next hour or so they trained. Honestly, as strong as she was, she had difficulty with the more technical aspects of fighting. She made a little progress, but to fully use her strength with perfect technique it would take her quite a while if this pace remained consistent. Not that he wasn't still impressed with the mental progress she had made just by being willing to try.

"I think I am finished for today," Kori said out of breath, "Thank you for your help, Richard."

"Anytime," he answered, bending over to pick up his water bottle. Bringing it to his lips, Richard dipped his neck back to let the water pour into his mouth and onto his parched tongue. Mid-sip, he noticed Kori staring at him. Not just staring, but ogling. She looked him up and down, bright green eyes landing on his bare arms, his chest, then finally on his face.

He felt his cheeks light up at the sudden scrutiny. When he finished his drink, he gave her a confused look. Were they still together, that look would have been easy to interpret, but given their current relationship and the break up she initiated, it only sought to baffle him further.

"Something wrong?"

Kori squeaked at being caught in the act, and turned away instantly to clean up the equipment,

"N—no!"

Deciding it would be inappropriate to further comment with a flirty remark as he would have before, Richard stayed silent on the subject.

"Y'know, Rachel told me what you did for her," he said.

Kori seemed shy at the event being brought up. Always so humble.

"Did she? It was not a big deal. I only did what I needed to."

"I don't want to dwell on it too much if you don't want to," he said, hand on the back of his neck, eyes looking anywhere but at her, "But, you overcame something huge. I'm proud of you Kori."

When Richard had the nerve to look back her in direction, she had a bright smile on her face.

Somehow that expression was more painful than if she had spat on him and told him to leave her alone. Funny how that worked.

When Jinx went back to work, everything was in complete shambles. About thirty gang members were completely out of commission from an array of injuries, and the entire southern area of the hideout had no power. Worst of all (for them at least, not Jinx) Rachel was gone and Trigon was pissed.

When one of the gang members had admitted that Rachel had been shot while escaping, the leader nearly lost it. Trigon may have been an abusive asshole to his daughter, but his abuse was calculated and never meant to kill her (did that make it worse?). Jinx could see that the idea that Rachel might have died from the injury was plaguing Trigon. Jinx personally didn't think he had any right to be upset given the fact that he had been planning on holding Rachel prisoner, but Jinx was pretty done getting involved in other people's family drama, no matter how screwed up, so she kept that opinion to herself.

Jinx couldn't think of another time she'd seen him so angry. His normally unaffected expression was contorted with rage. The man had been bounding around the base and anyone in his path met with his wrath.

Instead of paying it any mind, Jinx simply leaned back in the swivel chair in front of her computer, feet pushing against the edge of her desk, and gave him an unimpressed look when he came into the room enraged. His usually smooth and unaffected expression was contorted at the brow and his mouth was open, canines bared. Words spilled from him as he ranted, clearly overflowing with negative emotions or whatever. Normally when Trigon was angry, he was calm and calculated so this change in behaviour was noticeable.

Jinx silently wondered if she got Rachel mad enough, she'd act like this too.

"Is there any use to freaking out like this, Boss?" asked Jinx, grabbing a Skittle from the pack in front of her and popped in in her mouth. She made a face at the taste. Ew. She hated the purple ones.

"And what makes you think that you can speak to me with such disrespect?" Trigon growled, approaching her, shadow engulfing her seated position.

"Hmm," Jinx thought about it a moment, eating another Skittle. Red this time. Nice. "Probably because I had nothing to do with this mess. Wasn't even here."

"You weren't here! And you should have been!" He shouted, slamming his fist on her desk. Skittles bounced at the impact with little click-clicks and a few fell to the ground.

"Yeah, cause you gave me time off!" Jinx snapped, no longer having the patience to deal with Trigon's irrationality, "Chill the hell out. Just smoke a blunt and shut up or I'm out!"

In an instant, Trigon's large hand was gripped around her forearm. Jinx winced at how tight he was grabbing her; she had no doubt a hand-shaped bruise would form there soon after. He yanked her up and off the ground to his eye level. Fear found a home in the pit of her stomach and she kicked herself mentally for speaking so far out of turn. Trigon gave her a lot of grace because she was competent and never questioned him in a real way, but what she had just said clearly crossed a line.

"Want to say that again?" He whispered, dangerously close to her face.

Was this a small taste of Rachel's childhood? Probably. If she knew anything about how Rachel survived it, it was through displays of strength. It was a risk, but Jinx couldn't backtrack on her words or she'd be seen as a coward, which was worse than insubordination.

"I said," she answered with a hardness in her tone, meeting his penetrating glare with one of her own, "Smoke. A. Blunt. You gave me time off and I'm not taking the blame for this. If you want Rachel back, I can help you, but not if this feelings nonsense is fueling you."

When she stopped speaking, he pushed her back down into her chair, harsher than she'd have liked, but he'd released her regardless. He must have seen the illogical way he was acting.

"Meeting in a half-hour," He muttered, anger not gone, but quelled for now, "We're dealing with the Titans and Suicide Squad in one hit."

When Gar heard that Jinx had called an impromptu meeting for the Titans he'd been surprised. He hadn't seen her in forever. Ever since the formation of the Titans she had been strategically keeping her distance for the most part. It had been at least a month since he'd last seen her in person when he thought about it, and that hadn't been a substantial interaction in itself.

He hoped she was doing alright, despite the hurt she'd caused Vic recently. Their complicated relationship had angered Gar when Vic had let it slip that they'd had a…less than impersonal encounter, but when he heard about Jinx's mom, he genuinely felt empathy for her situation.

When he arrived in the Titan's base of operations, he was the first there other than Bruce and Richard, who gave him a brief acknowledgement before turning back to whatever intense conversation they seemed to be having. Gar was not about to butt into that, especially given Richard's recent proclivity for violent torture. Not cool.

So instead he made his way into the area of the cave where Rachel and Arella were staying. Arella Roth was leaning against a kitchen counter, biting the sides of her nails in apparent nervousness. She hardly noticed Gar's entrance.

"Evening Mrs. Roth," he waved, feeling a little awkward. The two and never had any substantial conversation and if he was being honest, the older woman was a little intimidating. The whole Roth family was.

"Hello Garfield," the dark-haired woman answered, a smile hinting at her red-tinged lips, "Are you here to see Rachel?"

"There's a meeting with the Titans today," he answered, "Is Rachel well enough to come? It's just in the next room."

Arella shook her head,

"If you wouldn't mind, could one of you update her later. She's asleep right now and I don't want to disturb her, not while she's in this condition."

"I figured. One of us can talk to her later," Gar turned away to head back to the meeting room.

"Before you go, I wanted to thank you," Arella said, "You saved my daughter from her father."

Gar faced her again,

"Of course. Rachel is our friend. We'll always save her, that's what friends do."

Arella's dark eyes got glassy when Gar said this and she quickly blinked the texture back,

"I…I appreciate that. All I ever wanted for Rachel was for her to find true friends. She's not exactly normal, so my constant worry was that she'd be alone for her whole life."

"She had you," Gar offered, trying to make the woman feel better. He was decent at comforting his friends, but comforting middle-aged moms was not his forte.

"No," Arella shook her head, "She should have had me, but it didn't work out that way. It wasn't all Trigon's fault either, I failed as a mother too. Rachel didn't stand a chance with parents like us. But with friends like you…maybe she'll be okay."

From the moment Gar set eyes on Arella months ago, he had thought she had a depressing feeling about her, but while hearing her speak she mow was practically the personification of melancholy. She gave off an otherworldly feeling of sadness and being. It wasn't something he could exactly describe. He didn't want to argue with her words because honestly, he didn't know anything about this woman's parenting skills so if they were as bad as she said he didn't want to lie and say they were good. However, he could speak for himself.

"I'll be there for Rachel until I die. Please don't worry about her."

It was a serious vow Gar was making, and he meant every word. Still, he couldn't help but think that his death might not be that far off. His blood was so thin now that the bruises he'd received from fighting the other night were so dark that Rita and Steve worried that he'd get serious internal bleeding if he had a truly dangerous fight. There was that and his increasing exhaustion, fainting spells, nausea, and general frailty. He'd managed to hide it from every one, with only Terra knowing the truth, but how much longer that could last was debatable. Whenever he wasn't doing shit for the Titans, he was in bed, resting so that when he was needed, he wouldn't be completely useless.

Arella reached her hand out to touch Gar's cheek, the sudden contact was both strange and not unpleasant.

"You're a good man Garfield."

"I, uh, thanks?"

"I should get going. So should you. I'm sure more people have shown up, but thank you for speaking with me."

Gar nodded wordlessly and the woman removed her hand from his cheek and with a final closed-lip smile, she went into another room.

Well, that was an odd interaction.

Shaking himself off, he noted that she had a point, he really should head out to meet everyone. So, trying to push away the unsettled feelings that always came with reminders of his mortality, he emerged from the Roth's living space and back to the meeting room to see whether more people had arrived.

Sure, enough they had. Kori and Vic sat down on chairs that surrounded the table and both gave him a wave. Richard and Bruce were still in conversation in the corner of the large meeting room.

Gar went over the Vic and Kori, plopping into the empty seat between them, giving Vic a fist bump and flashing a smile to Kori.

"What's hanging my dudes?" he asked casually, trying to find his way back to a normal and uncomplicated headspace.

"I am a little stressed," Kori sighed, "Finding a balance between school and our Titan work is proving quite the problem."

"Tell me about it," Gar agreed, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back into his chair, "I'm thinking of taking a leave from university until all this is done. If Jinx's news is what I think it is, hopefully, I can get an idea of how long that'll be."

"I hope so," Vic groaned, "I'm gonna start passing out from exhaustion from working at one hundred percent with no sleep."

Gar chose not to tell them that he was way past that at this point.

Eventually, Richard and Bruce joined them at the table and Jinx made her long-awaited entrance.

The pink-haired girl seemed…okay? Especially considering the amount of stress she was probably dealing with. But Gar knew better than to look at what people were acting like in public. Lately, he was the king of pretending things were fine when they weren't, and so far, no one suspected a thing.

Wow. He was such a hypocrite. Preaching platitudes to Rachel about being honest about her feelings and struggles, when all along, he was lying about his health. That realization felt pretty awful.

"Sup my masked friends. Get ready because I am about to bloooow your minds," Jinx wiggled her fingers like a magician wanting to wow their audience. She was met with blank expressions, whether it be out of confusion or a lack of amusement. Seeing the reaction, her aura changed and she put her hands to her hips, "Damn. Tough crowd."

"If you please, Jinx," Bruce spoke up, ever the intimidating and serious dude, "Proceed with your news. We are all quite busy."

Jinx narrowed her eyes in annoyance but obeyed, situating herself at the head of the table and sitting down,

"I kinda wanted to dangle my news in front of you like raw meat to lions, but whatever. You want the short version of it? Fine. Trigon's going to blow up a few buildings, pin it on the Suicide Squad, use his money to pose as the rich mayoral candidate who stopped terrorists, making the Titans look incompetent, getting rid of Deathstroke and Co., and shifting public trust from vigilante justice and the police force, to his own private law enforcers. Bing, bang, boom, in an office with power," Jinx finished the quick but loaded spiel by shoot Bruce a snobbish look, saying, "Quick enough for you?"

That was quite the run-on sentence. The girl hardly took a breath as she regurgitated that plan.

No one had anything to say for a good minute and just looked at her dumbly, except for Bruce, who appeared deep in thought.

Gar for one was confused. There were way too many holes in Jinx's explanation of this plan for him to understand.

"W—wait!" He spoke up finally, "What about all the drug shit he's doing? What was the point of all that if he's just going to go all Unabomber?"

"Eh, it's a bit of a red herring. I mean, vertigo is a big enough of a pandemic that it basically funds this whole operation. Plus it makes the populace weak and desperate for saviours. Why else do you think the Titans were even tolerated as masked vigilantes? Because people feel like they have no one to turn to. Getting people hooked on scary shit makes everyone else terrified."

"And if Trigon proves us to be useless, the people will turn to him: the kind, rich, and law-abiding philanthropist who wants to fix the city," Richard pieced it all together, air-quoting his description Trigon.

"Where does Slade fit into this?" Vic asked, "You told Trigon about his dual allegiance, yeah?"

Jinx confirmed this with a nod,

"Trigon's going to give Slade half the information. Something along the lines of 'hey bro, I'm going to blow up some buildings and make the Titans look stupid and take them out, wanna join?' Then that would lure the Suicide Squad out for his militia to take them out."

"Gotta give it to the guy," Vic admitted, "He knows how to play every side while not actually being on any of them."

"Except moi," Jinx grinned proudly gesturing both her thumbs to her chest, "Lil' ole me has the big guy totally fooled."

"Now that we have a general concept of these happenings, should we not formulate a plan?" Kori asked.

"I can help on that front," Bruce spoke up, "You'll need more help than just six plucky barely-not-teenagers and I'm sure Pamela and Selina would be willing to lend a hand. Barbara Gordon should also be informed of this. As for a more specific plan, that should be made when all those who will be involved are present, Rachel included. We also need more information on specifics, which Jinx, you need to gather."

"What if she isn't healed by the time Trigon decides to blow our asses up?" Gar asked.

"She probably will be," answered Jinx, "The timeline Trigon gave for this plan was about four months from now. Rachel's injury didn't hit any bones or organs and was only a flesh wound, she'll probably fully healed in like three months."

"Dang, she was lucky," Vic marvelled.

"So, then what now?" Gar asked, "What do we do in the meantime?"

That was the million-dollar question. While Jinx had given them a lot of information, there was still so much they were clueless about. Gar felt like he knew even less than he had before. Everything had just raised more questions than it had answered. The lingering question in his head, however, hadn't been answered and wasn't a new one,

Would he around to see all this through?

The silence in the room was deafening. Bruce kept quiet, probably because while he had more experience than any of them, this was a Titans meeting, not one for the Batman. Bruce seemed like a learn through experience type, so he might have been letting the Titans figure a few things out on their own. Despite that space for any of them to answer Gar's question, Jinx offered nothing, and neither did Kori or Vic. It was Richard who finally spoke, standing from his seat and addressing everyone.

"We can brainstorm all we want about hypotheticals, but until we have specifics we can only do so much. Jinx, gather more intel and see if Gizmo and your other friends would be willing to help. Bruce, please contact Pamela Isley and Selina Kyle. Everyone else, we just do what we always have. Train. Fight. Repeat. Remember why we're doing this. The end is in sight, so don't lose sight of it."

His voice was authoritative. Strong. To the point. Morale-boosting.

As much as no one was confident in Richard's psyche, he was the only one who ever stepped up in these moments where someone needed to, and Gar thought that very fact should count for something.

I gave you my heart
You gave me up
Free of charge

- The Band Camino (Free of Charge)

Wow. Floored by the kind words from my last chapter. Did not expect to see so many familiar usernames and get responses from people who are still reading this after so long. It really got me motivated to keep writing. It's crazy how productive you are when you have a healthy mental state, free time, and encouragement. Who knew lol.

Anyways, this fic is nearing its end. Only about a handful of chapters left.

Again, thanks for the patience and reviews.