Steph slept, heavily sedated, the entire flight back to Gotham. Cass curled herself into a seat, making herself as small as possible in the very back next to Steph. Dinah turned around in her seat, put a hand over Cass', and looked into her eyes with maternal concern. "She's going to be all right," Dinah said, but she was worried about Steph, too. She couldn't hide that from Cass.

Bruce said nothing. He only flew the plane, his focus entirely on that task.

When they landed, Dinah and Helena transferred Steph to a gurney and wheeled her away to medical. Cass began to follow, but Bruce's hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes, steeling herself for his disappointment.

It was Dinah who had told her to beware thinking of Bruce as a substitute father. That there was nothing wrong with loving her father, flawed though he'd been, and only natural to want the love and approval of a father figure. But trying to map that onto Bruce would not end well. 'He cares,' Dinah had said. 'He loves all of his kids like a father, in his own way. But Cass, Bruce isn't entirely healthy, in a lot of the same ways as all of us aren't. We're all missing pieces, we all have trauma. Don't put all of your faith, and all of your need, on him. He's just a person, an extraordinary person, but he's not infallible.' Cass had nodded, understanding the warning, understanding too that Dinah had once placed her own need for older male approval before her good sense, and been hurt by it. Not in any of the ways Cass herself might do, but the memory of pain had been clear in her face and posture.

Just as, now, she saw into Bruce. His focus was on her, and Cass expected judgment – yet found none. Sorrow, yes, she saw so much sorrow in Bruce so often that she wondered how the others missed it. And compassion. And a little regret.

Bruce gave her a slight rueful smile. "For some things, words are better," he told her.

Cass nodded. "I failed. I'm sorry. Will do better."

He sighed, his hand still on her shoulder, grounding them both. "The mission failed. That happens. What you do afterward is what matters. You didn't leave Stephanie."

"I left her. In the cave." Cass hunched her shoulders again, knowing regret was etched into her body in ways that were obvious to him.

"You made mistakes. I have, too." That made her look up at his face again, and Bruce regarded her carefully. "They don't want you to blame yourself. They don't want you to be like me – like what they think I am. But you understand. It isn't about blame. It's about taking responsibility. You've done everything you can to repair the damage your mistakes caused. You always will. I've known that about you from the moment we met. I know your anger at yourself. Don't let it hold you back."

Cass nodded, and he squeezed her shoulder gently. "I don't blame you. I don't hold you responsible, either. But I know that nothing I say can stop you from holding yourself responsible."

She hugged him then, tears welling up in her eyes. Bruce put his arms around her, returning the hug with infinite gentleness and care. He was always careful with her, because he knew he couldn't deceive her. Sometimes it suited his purposes to be seen as brutal, uncaring, a man of stone. But his grieving heart might as well have lain beating on the floor between them, for everything Cass saw in him.

He stroked her hair once, and then Dinah called his name in aggravated tones. "Go to Barbara," Bruce said softly. "She's worried about you. And she might be able to say things better than I can."

Cass gave him one more tight squeeze, and darted off, as at home in the Batcave as if she'd lived there all her life.

Babs was there to meet the arriving party, looking over Steph grimly. Physically, she was in excellent condition. All of her old scars were gone, her muscle tone was perfect, and she might even be an inch or so taller. She looked the very picture of good health, youth and strength.

Mentally was another matter.

The Lazarus Pit. Babs knew about it, of course. She knew what it had done to Ra's, and Talia, and Jay. She knew what it had done to Dinah. She'd thought, once, about what it might do to her. It was hard not to think of such things, when she'd misjudged a transfer and landed hard on the floor and had to crawl and climb back up again. When so many things others took for granted were a complicated kind of dance for her, with half of her own body for a foolish, clumsy partner. By this point in her life, all those adjustments had become second nature, but in the early days, the Lazarus Pit might have seemed like an easy answer.

It wasn't.

Babs pulled back Steph's eyelid, gently, and saw that her eyes were still greenish. They'd fade back to blue eventually – Jay's had – but just seeing the stain of green there gave her a chill. It would take longer for the Pit's influence to fade from Steph's mind, and no matter what wonders it could work, there was nothing the Pit could offer Barbara Gordon that was worth risking her mind. Her consciousness, her intelligence, her determination, all of that was who she was, and not even the ability to run and leap again was tempting enough to make her consider the bargain.

She leaned back from Steph, watching as Dinah and Helena wheeled her into a cell. Babs despised the necessity, but there was a very real chance that Steph was a danger to herself as well as all of them. There were only a few cells down here, and they'd very rarely been occupied, but they were safe and secure. Once Steph woke up, they could talk to her, gauge her state of mind, and hopefully release her soon.

Dinah came over to Babs and bent to kiss her hair. "She'll be okay," she offered.

"Eventually," Babs replied, feeling every hour of lost sleep, every bit of fatigue from the last few days.

Dinah sighed. "She's a good kid. She'll throw this off. I did, after all."

Babs wrapped her arms around Dinah's waist, and after an instant's surprise, the blonde returned the hug. It was easier than saying Dinah had been exposed to the Pit only briefly, that she'd been alive when she went in, that it had worked far fewer changes on her. It had given her back her voice, and even so she'd spent months taming the rage and paranoia that came with those few minutes.

Stroking Babs' hair, Dinah murmured, "I'm almost pissed, you know? Feels like I ought to call up my almost-stepdaughter and remind her I took a swim, too. She told Cass to take Steph to Jay. Which proves she's out of the loop, because he's in no condition to help anyone."

Babs took a deep breath, smelling warm leather and arid sand and a trace of Dinah's perfume, applied last night after her shower and before they knew just how much trouble the girls were in. She murmured her thoughts aloud, tracing the run of Talia's logic. "Steph and Jay are of similar background. Similar amounts of healing, too. Similar issues with Bruce. Talia's right, Jay is the natural choice. Steph admires you, but she's a little shy of you."

Dinah chuckled. "Because she had a schoolgirl crush on you, once upon a time, and she's afraid I know about it. As if I'd be mad at her. I know you see her as a daughter."

Babs managed a smile, looking up at her. "She got this much right, I do have a thing for blondes who are as quick-witted as they are quick with their fists."

"Quick-witted, from you, is one helluva compliment," Dinah told her with a grin. "Now quit blaming yourself. We've got work to do."

"Yes, ma'am," Babs said warmly. "Go on upstairs. I'll wait here a little longer."

Dinah sighed, but kissed her again, and let her keep watch.

In truth, Babs was waiting for one more visitor. Helena had left rather than feel like a voyeur to the tenderness between Babs and Dinah, but she'd stop by for a debrief later. It was her other daughter that Babs awaited.

Cass didn't make a sound. She rarely did. She just coalesced out of the shadows, looking woefully at Babs. Looking like a tired, hurt little girl, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion, her mouth drawn down by guilt and sorrow.

Babs could've given her all the words in the world, about how it wasn't her fault, how she'd done the best she could, how no one blamed her. But like Bruce, like Babs herself, none of it would stick. Cass would still blame herself. And it would still hurt more because she loved Steph, and Steph's love for her had literally gotten her killed – and resurrected. This was a kick in the teeth when Cass was already vulnerable. A feeling Kala would recognize, too, if she were here.

Love really sucked sometimes.

Babs looked at Cass, and held her arms open. Sometimes words couldn't help, but she knew in Cass' mind that her own name was synonymous with being enfolded in an embrace. That the welcome she gave transcended all words, that it stood for all the struggles they'd overcome together. That no matter how they'd misunderstood one another at first, they had both always reached out again, seeking communication and connection. As Cass came to her, climbing into her lap unselfconscious as a child, Babs wrapped her up and held her tight. She let her arms say all the things that would've been useless aloud, and Cass' slim shoulders began to shake with tears she couldn't let out in front of anyone else.

Kala flew out to Los Angeles to meet up with her boys and whoever the label had given them as a manager this time. As long as it wasn't Derek, she'd be grateful, she told herself firmly. She'd shipped ahead most of the clothes and stuff she would need, which conveniently made it seem normal that she would arrive with only a carry-on bag. Kala much preferred to fly under her own power whenever she could, and it was going to be hard enough being tethered to the tour bus for the next couple months. She'd enjoy the freedom just a little longer.

On her way into the offices, pulling her hair down from its flight-safe bun, she was almost run into by a pack of teenage boys. They skidded to a halt, and the one in the lead – bright-eyed, with a mop of blond hair – suddenly smiled. "KLK!" he exclaimed. "You guys, it's KLK!"

As ridiculous as it was, the recognition and admiration felt good after the last week. Even if they were barely out of junior-high . At least her reputation seemed to still be intact. "Well, one member of KLK," Kala said, giving them her best grin as she cocked up one dark teasing brow. Knowing the label's other acts, she could guess who they were. "Glades Park Five, right?"

"Yes!" the lot of them exclaimed. All of a sudden Kala was surrounded, with a distinct whiff of Axe body spray that reminded her of her old job at Bed & Bath. They were too young to know better. "Can I get an autograph?" another one of the boys asked, scrabbling through his pockets for something she could sign.

A third of the boys, who looked a little like her cousin Sam, produced a marker. "Sign my arm," he pleaded.

The eager expression on his face had her laughing gently, sweetly flattered. This was a completely wholesome balm to her ego, reminding her that being a Super wasn't her entire life again. There really were people in the wide civilian world that knew her, admired her. "No, come on, you don't want some Goth singer's autograph tattooed on you. You'll have something like that forever; you won't even remember who I was when you're thirty," Kala chided. She'd had fans do that before, to her and the other members of the band. At least one girl was walking around with all of their signatures on her shoulder.

He looked crestfallen at her refusal. "You're not just some Goth singer, you're KLK."

"Yeah, you're a hot Goth singer," one of the others added, and Kala fought another laugh. They were just too precious for words. From grown men, she would have made a point of rolling her eyes in annoyance and walking off without a word. Again, these guys had no idea or game at all. Not to mention, none of them were old enough to drive yet.

"Got a Panera receipt, that's about it," the first boy said.

"I think we can do better than that. Let me see if I can scare up some promo pics for you," Kala told them, and ducked into the hallway, headed for the office. Behind her, the boys chattered amongst themselves excitedly.

Kala ducked in, and saw Marlene stepping out. She couldn't help grinning. Even for a moment, it was enough to change the whole tone of her day. "Hey, Marlene," she said, giving her a tilted smile. It was always a struggle to try to keep things as professional as she could with her ex, though she knew her affection showed in her gaze. It was so good to see her, especially right now. "I just bumped into your act outside."

"Not my act anymore. The Glades Park Five are off for a few months, thank God," Marlene told her, smiling back.

Even now, that smile warmed her heart. They had parted as friends, she and Marlene, and no one was more grateful for it than Kala herself. Jay was a fine example how spectacularly her relationships could have the potential to blow apart. She felt her smile falter a little and fought to keep it. No, he wasn't allowed to do this to her, not right now. Kala coughed, ruthlessly pushing the thought into the darkness of her mind. "Lucky you," she replied brightly, mentally pushing the smile back onto her lips. "Heading back to New York for some downtime? I figure you've earned it. They're cute, though, headache though they are."

Marlene scoffed, "Not hardly. I'm turning right around and whipping another pack of troublemakers in shape."

Kala winced. It was a lousy schedule for them to push her, considering that she was always doing long-haul tours. That was the usual bullshit. "Oh, come on, really? You're coming off a five-month international run! What the hell, Marlene?"she crabbed in an undertone, frowning. When the other dark-haired woman shrugged expressively, Kala sighed. The veteran at her finest. In a regular speaking voice, she sighed again, saying apologetically. "Well, you're the best tour manager they have. I hope the new kids don't give you too much trouble."

"Oh, they won't, or they'll learn better in a hurry," Marlene replied. Kala remembered how quickly Marlene had gotten her own band into shape, and couldn't stop herself from grinning again. She couldn't help wishing that they could have more time to talk, to grab a meal. Missing Marlene was always a thing, had been since the first break. Even now, she was one of Kala's closest friends, the main confident in her work life. Right now, still unsure of herself, her advice and support would have been invaluable. Maybe after this tour was over, they could have a chance to really talk… Fighting a wave of disappointment, Kala laughed softly.

Jenna came out of the office and saw them, breaking into her polished professional smile. "Kala, you're early! Good to see you. The rest of the band should be here shortly."

"Morgan's almost here, but Robb and Ned accidentally slept in. In separate rooms, in the same house, they managed to both forget to set their alarms," Kala said with honest affectionate annoyance. The day those two got back from a break early or on-time, the world was certifiably going to end. It would be good to see those two idiots, though. She had missed her boys more than usual. "Thank God for Jenny's early morning back-up alarm and her dawn yoga routine. I guess once we get them corralled, we can meet our new manager and get this literal show on the literal road."

Jenna looked confused, and glanced at Marlene. "You already spoke to Marlene, though."

Marlene gave a heavy sigh. "Jenna, I was trying to see how long it took before they caught on."

Utter disbelief ran through Kala at that. What? Her wide-eyed gaze went from Marlene to Jenna and back again. For a moment, she was horrified that she might just weep with relief. Marlene was staying. Marlene was staying. Anything Jenna might've said in response was drowned out by Kala's yelp of delight as she threw her arms around Marlene in surprised shock.

Out in the lobby, the boys of the Glades Park Five wondered if they should go chivalrously rescue her, but decided that a badass Goth chick could handle anything.

Meanwhile Kala had just managed not to kiss Marlene's cheek in front of their agent, she was that glad to have a competent manager again. "Oh thank God, we've all missed you so much! Marlene, I'm sorry you're not getting any downtime, but things are going to be a whole lot easier with you running the show, I swear. I owe you for this. I owe you so much for this…"

"I wouldn't count on that," Marlene warned. "I'm going to expect a lot of you, Kala. Your band should know how to do a tour."

"You don't understand, I was running it by myself at the end there and it was more than I could really handle with everything else that was going on, but that's over," Kala explained, aware she was babbling a little in sheer relief. Of all the the things she had been expecting to face, having Marlene at her back again was the last she had ever expected. And, yep, she could feel the grateful sting of tears in her eyes. "If you're yelling at us, it's because we deserve it – and we'll probably give you a standing ovation when you're done. After the last run, we'll be on our best behavior. I promise, Marlene."

Marlene turned to Jenna, arching an eyebrow. "You heard that, right? You're my witness. The first time these heathens get a dressing-down, I expect a standing ovation."

"I'll put it in the tour log," Jenna said, smiling.

Kala gave them both a slightly-watery smile at that, giving a little laugh. "You think I'm joking, but I'm really not," she insisted.

"We also need to have a talk about your boyfriend following the tour," Marlene said. "Sebast is coming back, and I'm not having you two throwing luggage at each other. You will work it out."

She had known it was coming, that the label had been more than a little concerned on that particular topic. All of the plans she had made, all of the decisions about Jay and Gotham… It felt like ashes in her mouth, her stomach lurching a little. Kala grimaced at that, fighting to get back to professionalism. The last thing she needed now was to have a breakdown over Jay in front of everyone. She wasn't looking for pity. "Sebast and I do need to work it out, but that's our job. We'll sit down and figure things out when he gets here. And there's no … no reason to worry about the boyfriend. Turns out, I was wrong about him. He left." Would it ever not hurt to have to say that? Kala took a deep breath, again fighting her feelings, before mentioning what she had been considering on the way here. Better to get it over and done with. "Speaking of which, I want to open the first show with a cover. I know the fans are following the whole saga, and I might as well inform them."

Marlene paused then, looking at her carefully. There were a lot of things they couldn't say to each other in front of Jenna, but Kala saw the sorrow and concern in her eyes. Finally, Marlene said, "Damn. His loss, Kala. Best way to handle it, though. Put it in the music."

She scoffed, taking another deep breath. It had been his choice; for better or worse, he had to live with it, and so did she. "His loss, for sure. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl. I did all my crying over the break. I lived before him, I'll live after him. He's just a guy; there are thousands of others out there. All over the world. And at least I won't be distracted for the rest of this tour."

Jenna didn't know what to say. Kala figured she had to be relieved, but she was kind enough not to say so. "I've got paperwork to finish up. I'll let you two meet up with the rest of the band as they come in. Kala, Sebast won't be here until the second show, so it'll just be you, Morgan, Ned, and Robb for the first leg."

"Got it," Kala said, and couldn't help feeling tired. Thinking of Jay was going to make her weary for a while. At least she had Marlene. She tried to remember how she'd perked up a little on arriving here and getting the fanboy reaction from the younger band.

Which reminded her… "Hey Jenna, I need some autograph stills. The Glades Park Five asked for them. And give me one of them I can get them all to sign for me."

"Good idea," Marlene said. "You should've seen their faces when I told them I'd worked with you."

While Jenna ducked into the office for the photos and a marker, Kala asked archly, "Good thing you didn't tell them anything else. Their teenage minds would explode."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. I had to make it very clear, I'm basically their gay Jewish auntie, I am not going to be amused by their adolescent attempts at swagger."

Kala pulled a sour face; broken up or not, that was something that Kala just didn't care for. "Please tell me they weren't dumb enough to hit on you. Don't make me go embarrass them, Marlene."

"Of course not. I'm an old woman to them. They just tried to act like the men of the house. Or bus, as the case may be. Everyone has to try the manager at first. Even you guys did. I haven't forgotten." Marlene grinned at her at that. Kala remembered, too. Sebast had been the one to flirt outrageously with Marlene, even picking up a hunting magazine at one of their convenience store stops just because the cover article was, 'Luring Cougars 101'. She'd eventually told him he wasn't her type, and she wasn't his, either, since her gaydar pinged on him while he was still in the parking lot. At that, Sebast had grinned and turned to Kala with a flourish, telling Marlene, 'Then let me introduce you to my pinch-hitter.'

They'd all laughed, and it was quite a bit later when she and Marlene actually started flirting, but the memory was still a good one. Kala missed those days when things between she and Sebast hadn't been complicated.

She missed a lot, lately.

Jenna returned with glossy 8 by 10 photos, just as Kala laughed. "Yeah, but we just challenged you to play video games. And you smoked us."

"My fourteen year old nephew doesn't respect anyone who can't tell a MMORPG from an FPS. I had to get good, or be the lame aunt forever," Marlene replied.

Kala grinned at her. "Well, I guess I'm set to be the cool aunt. That's another thing I didn't get to tell you – Elise is pregnant. My giant lizard of a brother is going to be a dad. To twins."

"Well congratulations to them!" Marlene said, and clapped her on the shoulder. "We'll catch up on the bus. Let's get the boys their autographs before they decide you hate them, and wait for your boys to show up. I want to see their faces when they realize I'm running with you this time."

Chuckling, Kala went out to the lobby, where she handed the younger band a photo to sign for her. They were all delighted that she wanted their autographs, preening and and smiling. She signed stills of herself for each of them, asking them how to spell their names as a cover for not actually knowing their names. The boys seemed utterly thrilled, beaming as she handed off each photo.

She felt a slight pang, knowing that if Sebast were here, he'd be teasing her under his breath in Spanish about how most of them only watched the music videos, and how proud he was of her for giving the next generation a corset fetish. That in turn made her remember teasing Jay about her music, and Kala forced herself to focus on the present. The past – and the men haunting her – couldn't interfere anymore. She had to stop reminiscing about it.

Just as she signed the last photo, her three boys arrived together. Robb looked like he'd just woken up, Ned had dyed his hair a violent purple instead of the usual blue, and Morgan seemed eager to get to work. Kala grinned at them, having missed them all during the break. "Hey, you hooligans. Guess who we got for our manager?"

"Oh God, just tell me it's not you again," Ned replied.

"Fuck off," Kala laughed, startling the Glades Park Five boys.

Marlene just took that as her cue to raise her hand. "Guess who got saddled with the problem children, again."

Robb, Ned, and Morgan all froze at that. "You're serious?" Morgan asked.

"Don't joke, Marlene, that's cruel," Robb hastened to add.

"No, I wouldn't joke. Since you all had so much trouble with Derek, the label decided it'd be better for me to look after you." Marlene crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "So you'd better shape up, starting now. Got it?"

The overall effect was spoiled as the boys looked at each other, then broke out in whoops of joy. The younger band scattered as Ned – all six-feet-plus of him – charged over to Marlene, threw his arms around her, and picked her up. She yelped, smacking his shoulder. "Knock it off, you meshugener!"

Ned spun her around and set her down, his hands on her shoulders. "I could kiss you, but you'd slap me."

"Damn right I would, now let go, you goof," Marlene laughed, pushing at his hands.

Robb looked over at Kala, and grinned suddenly. "What the hell, it's worth a slap. Group hug!" With that, all three boys and Kala mobbed Marlene, hugging her tight and making kissy noises. She laughed loudly enough that Jenna came out to see what was the matter.

She ended up shaking her head and going back into the office, while the Glades Park Five all stood there slack-jawed in shock.

Dick's phone chirped, he dropped from the rings to answer it, and then just said, "Okay," before walking over to Jay with it. "It's Dinah."

What the hell the Chairwoman of the JLA wanted, Jay couldn't fucking guess. He let go of the pull-up bar and took the phone. "Yeah?"

"I need your advice," Dinah said, and that threw him for a loop. Jay was about to tell her that was a terrible idea, but she continued into his stunned silence, "We got back with the girls just now. Steph was resurrected in the Lazarus Pit."

"Aw, fuck," Jay bit out. "You got her secure?"

"Yes. She damn near knocked Bruce out, though, so I figured you'd be amused to hear that," Dinah replied. "What I need to know is, what's she going through, and how soon can we let her out? I don't remember much of the first few hours."

"Fuck, neither do I," Jay told her. "I got thrown off a cliff into a river with a survival bag, Dinah. Spent the first couple days running through the woods in the middle of Assfuck, Nowhere until I got to some civilization. I was hungry and freezing and running a fever and thirsty and mad as fuck all the time for a while."

"I bailed out right afterward. Good thing Ra's was a little busy with Talia kicking his ass over wanting someone else to inherit, so I went unnoticed until Babs could locate me and send some help," Dinah told him.

"Yeah, smart play. I guess just try to keep Steph physically comfortable for now. As for when you can let her out, I dunno. It took me a few years to stop wanting to kill Bruce." Even now, that sounded so strange to say, and Jay felt Dick rub his shoulders gently as he listened.

Dinah sighed. "I was all right pretty much from the beginning. Angrier than before, and more paranoid, but I wasn't really a danger the way you were. Then again, you had some damn good reasons to be vengeful. I hope Steph doesn't."

Jay thought about it, for the first time in a long time. He didn't like to dwell on his 'miraculous' restoration; Talia liked to focus on that, and he found it frankly creepy. But if he could help Steph even a little bit, he'd try to, whether it was his business or not. She was a lot like him, from the wrong side of town, always trying to measure up to someone else's reputation, and generally getting kicked in the teeth for it whether she succeeded or not. The fact that she'd gotten dunked in the Pit like him just reinforced the similarities.

At last, he said, "Remember that what the Pit fixed with me was mostly brain damage. All the physical damage, too, but I was basically broccoli that could throw a punch before I went in. So it stands to reason my mind would be the most fucked-up of any of us. Hopefully Steph won't be as bad off."

"Hopefully," Dinah replied. "Very poetic description, there, by the way. It's going to be Babs' call, anyway. She told Bruce as much, and she knows Steph the best of any of us. I'll pass that on."

"Wish I could be more help," Jay said, and mentally kicked himself right afterward. That was a Grayson line, and he wasn't that kinda guy. Kala really had turned him to mush … and with her gone, Steph was about the most sunshine the Bats could claim.

God, he was hopeless.

Dick leaned against his shoulder, and spoke toward the phone. "Have a little faith, Dinah. It didn't affect you that much."

She gave a dry chuckle. "Yeah, but Steph has more reasons to be angry. And she actually died. It's worrying me, I'll be honest."

"How'd she die?" Jay finally asked.

"Shiva killed her, so probably a sword. I don't know specifics. Cass disappeared somewhere after we got back. I know she can handle herself, but I'm worried about her, too." Dinah made an aggravated sound, and added, "Also, Cass broke Shiva's spine while Talia's people were taking over the place. So Shiva's either dead, or she got Lazarus Pitted too."

"Oh that's fucking fantastic," Jay grumbled. "Shiva's the last goddamn person who needs that kind of crazy. I think Talia's actually afraid of her."

Dinah scoffed. "Yeah, well, that's not the most impressive of Shiva's accomplishments, but I get what you mean. We're going to see trouble from this in the future, I just know it."

"There's always trouble," Dick replied. "It's how we handle it that matters."

"Speaking of which, according to Cass, Talia told her to take Steph back here to you, Jay," Dinah said. "That isn't why I called you; Babs thought you were the logical person to ask, too."

Flabbergasted, Jay muttered, "Oh, fuck Talia and all her predestined bullshit."

"Please don't, that'd be awkward for everyone," Dinah joked, and he tried not to choke on air while Dick stared at him, perplexed.

Shiva's teeth chattered briefly, and Talia slipped off her jacket, wrapping it around the other woman's shoulders. She could tell Shiva wanted to protest, to claim she was fine, but she only tugged the good leather closer around her with a grimace. "The worst of the physical symptoms will pass within a day," Talia murmured. Shiva just gritted her teeth.

They were en route to Nanda Parbat, where Ra's al Ghul awaited them. He had not been pleased by Talia's report of the conflict at the Tibesti compound. Another Lazarus Pit was useless to them, for decades at least, and the only person who had been able to use its gifts was the same one who had rebelled against the League of Shadows. At least their assets were under their own control again. She expected a more thorough debriefing as soon as they landed, and then Shiva would undergo her own interrogation.

Talia herself was deeply unsettled, trying to find some sort of peace while they flew. Very little awaited her in Nanda Parbat. Watching Sandra Wu-San suffer through the Lazarus Pit's healing, hearing her screams as severed nerves reconnected in a blaze of green agony, seeing her wild staring eyes as she struggled for some kind of relief … all of it brought back too many memories.

That had been the time to cement Shiva's loyalty to her, to use a careful blend of threats and pain and healing to break Sandra's resolve and bind her will. But Talia could not, would not, do that. Especially not when she knew precisely how it could be done. Instead she had fought to master her ghosts, keep her own panic at bay, and talk the other woman through it. She had done that often enough for her father, over the years, before and after she tasted Lazarus herself.

'This was not worth it,' Sandra had moaned, shuddering violently, her limbs jerking as random impulses fired along her nerves. 'I tried to warn you,' Talia had told her, careful not to touch her, knowing the lightest touch of fingertips would feel like a wire brush across torn skin. Instead she had given Sandra her voice, steady and calm despite her own horror, reminding Shiva that this was only her body. Only pain, and she had borne pain often enough. She was her mind, she was not her body, she could rise above mere physical pain and focus on what needed to be done.

No one could properly meditate through the aftermath of the Lazarus Pit, not even Ra's al Ghul himself, but attempting to do so gave Shiva's mind something to fix on besides the pain and fear and rage. Even now, hours later, she was trying to hold that same focus, and failing as her body betrayed her.

Shiva shivered again, and Talia glanced across at Adem. He nodded and rose from his seat, moving toward the back of the plane, and returned a moment later with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea. Sandra took them both gratefully, and then paused to look at him. "You," she said venomously.

"Me," Adem told her. "You came very close. I do not have a sister."

She curled her lip in fury at the betrayal, and her dark eyes shone green for a moment. Talia touched the back of her hand lightly. "You were outmaneuvered. Do be sporting about it, Sandra. I should hate to think you the kind of opponent who upsets the chessboard after a loss."

Shiva subsided, and tucked the blanket closer around her. "Yes, well, you are setting a very sporting example, yourself. It does not escape me that I am wearing your clothes – " her own had been damaged beyond repair by the Lazarus Pit – "flying in your jet, and now drinking your tea. When by rights I ought to be shackled in the hold, awaiting your father's judgment. You are being very unaccountably kind, Talia, and surely you know I would not have offered you the same mercy, were our positions reversed."

"I am aware," Talia told her. She had planned the assault meticulously, knowing that Shiva would not have let her live if she lost. It was not Shiva's way to torture her opponents, but a swift death at her sword was not in Talia's plans for the day. She regarded Sandra from eyes that would never again be the warm brown of her youth, eyes that carried the stain of the Lazarus Pit for the rest of her own life, and said lightly, "Consider, Sandra, you do not actually know me. Compassion might be in my nature. And until you betray me, I have no reason to show you anything but kindness. What would it serve, to gloat over this victory and parade you before my father as a trophy of battle?"

"Ego. And I know you have enough of that," Sandra retorted. She sipped the hot tea slowly, letting it warm her belly.

Talia shook her head, affording her a slight smile. "And what of it? Should I serve my own pride, now, knowing that you would surely plot to take me down later? You have more than enough ego, yourself. There is no practical purpose in pressing your face into the dust, Sandra. And no personal reason to do so, either. It is not as if I won a bout in the ring against you – that, I would sing from the rooftops of the world. I simply planned further, and had a little assistance from luck."

"You know you could never win against me, in a fair fight, one to one," Sandra said sharply.

Talia leaned back in her seat and sighed, letting her lips curve up in a more casual smile than she felt. "The difference between us, Sandra, is that I do not let that fact trouble me. I won on my own terms. My father's legacy is safe. And a great warrior fights on our side again. I accomplished everything I set out to do."

Shiva huffed, and hunched her shoulders as another shiver raced through her. "I will be glad when the damned 'physical symptoms' finally stop."

"So shall I," Talia told her, and closed her eyes. She would not fall asleep, not sitting next to one who was so recently her enemy, but it would be well to let Shiva think she had the situation so firmly in hand that she could doze off.

In truth, only one thing mattered to her just now. Damian was in Nanda Parbat with her father. The sooner Talia discharged her duties, the sooner she could see her son.

Steph sat up with a gasp, her heart pounding. She was somewhere dark and close, far more humid than anyplace she'd been in months. Almost damp, with the chill in the air.

The cavern, vile green light playing over the ceiling, the stench of death and jasmine in the air, acid burning her flesh, fire in her bones…

She shook her head, hard, trying to rattle those memories right out. She could hear her own breathing, a quick rasp, but not much else. She wasn't wearing the clothes Cass had stolen for her anymore, either – someone had changed her into a set of dark purple sweats while she slept. As her eyes focused, she saw that she was in a cell, three walls plus the floor and ceiling made of stone. The fourth wall was clear, probably acrylic instead of glass, and the only furnishings were a sink, a commode, and the bed she'd woken up on. It had a thick foam mattress, two pillows, and plenty of blankets, though, so taken with the color choice in clothes, apparently her captors were trying to be kind.

Captivity was never kind. Steph paced the dimensions of the cell, anger brewing in her. The last thing she remembered was seeing Batman, like a dark figure from some terrible nightmare, and launching herself at him. Her mouth curved in a cruel smile. Hopefully she'd hurt him a little. He deserved it for everything he'd done to her.

A new sound entered her perception, and Steph whirled to face it, hands dropping to weapons that weren't there. It was faint, hard to identify at first, but then Babs rolled into view and Steph remembered all the times that the hush of rubber tires had signaled her mentor's arrival.

"Hi, Steph," Babs said gently, her voice sorrowful. The reflexive anger tried to seize on something to hate, but came up empty where Babs was concerned. She'd never done Steph any wrong.

Still, she was out there, and Steph was in here. "Hiya, Babs. Let me guess, this is the Batcave, right? Come to check out the new animal in the zoo?"

"No, Steph," Babs replied. "Yes, it is the Batcave, but I came to see if you were safe to let out."

Steph approached the clear wall, realizing for the first time that she looked down on Babs. And jutting her chin out a little to emphasize the height advantage. "Only one way to tell, right? Open the door, and see if I go batshit crazy on everyone. Ha ha, pun intended."

"Considering you weren't verbal when they first found you, the fact that you're able to make puns is a promising sign," Babs told her.

Steph was too restless to stand and chat, so she paced back and forth. "Nice. So let me out. I don't like the whole prison aesthetic. It's just not me."

Babs sighed. "No, it isn't. Stephanie, if I let you out, are you going to attack Bruce again?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "Maybe. Depends on what he says to me. Bruce needs a smack upside the head every now and then."

At that, Babs smiled. "I can't disagree with you on that. Steph, honey, come here?"

It was phrased as a request, so Steph came closer, leaning forward as Babs did the same. They looked into each other's eyes with only the thick acrylic between them, and something inside Steph that kept fizzing away with anger and uncertainty quieted, just a little, when their gazes met. Babs looked at her searchingly, as if in some corny way she could see Steph's soul in her eyes, and gauge just how tainted the Lazarus Pit had left her.

A bright coal of resentment at that. She was still getting random twinges of fiery pain through her chest and shoulder and every other old injury, even the arm she'd broken falling out of a tree as a kid. None of this would've happened if Cass hadn't insisted on going to fight her mother like something out of an old martial arts movie. For an instant, the thought of Cass boiled up into real rage, and Steph only choked it back because she saw the alarm in Babs' expression.

"I was about to say, at least your eyes are almost back to normal, but they just turned green again for a second," Babs said, leaning back in the chair and regarding Steph warily. "What crossed your mind just now?"

She couldn't fake out Babs. She'd never been that good a liar. And the truth might just get her out of here faster, if Babs thought she was cooperating. "I was remembering Cass leaving me handcuffed to a pipe in a damn storage room so she could go play samurai with her useless excuse of a mother," she retorted.

Babs nodded soberly. "That's understandable. Are you going to attack Cass, the next time you see her?"

Steph gritted her teeth. "No. She got me out, I have to give her that much. And she wouldn't fight back if I did swing on her, she's probably all twisted up with guilt over this. Wouldn't be worth it."

"Your fists are clenched," Babs pointed out, and Steph forced her hands to relax. After a long moment, Babs reached out to touch the clear barrier between them. Out of reflex, Steph matched her movement, their palms separated by an inch of unbreakable acrylic.

She expected a speech about how they had to keep her locked up for her own safety, how they needed to run a battery of tests before they could consider releasing her, and Steph was already wondering what she could destroy in this cell to alleviate her frustration. Instead, Babs pulled out a tablet, and pressed a few buttons. The clear panel slid away into the ceiling, leaving Steph free at last.

She hesitated for a moment, staring at Babs in obvious surprise. Babs just shrugged. "You're rational, you're in control of your responses, and I don't think you're a danger to yourself or anyone else just now. I'll be happier if you accept a little supervision while you're working through the side effects, but Steph, I trust you. I always have. One lousy supernatural fountain of youth isn't going to change that."

Steph could only blink for a moment. The very last thing she expected to encounter right now was trust, and faith in her. It took the wind out of her completely, made the rage vanish for the moment, and left her feeling strangely empty inside without that churning anger and fear.

She took a wobbly step forward out of the cell, and Babs held out her hands. Steph took them, and bent down to hug her mentor. For the first time since she'd seen that horrible green cavern, something felt safe and right.