Sophie was in trouble.
She'd ignored a direct order from Agent Tavaroff and Jacob. The former through destroying evidence of Ryan's blood collected after a fight with Black Mask and the latter through not leaving well enough alone. She'd been suspended and her clearances removed from the Crows' server. None of that could stop her though. She needed to bring Angelique home, and she'd tear down anything that stood in her way.
In this case, what stood in her way was a masked goon with fighting skills she'd not seen since… well, since the last Batwoman flew through the night's skies. Her last piece of intel had led her to Ocean's latest stomping grounds: an abandoned warehouse on the southern edge of East End. She knew any chance of tracking down Black Mask was through him and his connections.
Unfortunately for her, Ocean had clearly abandoned the space, and in an apparent hurry. It was reminiscent of her first encounter with the drug maker. She didn't know where he'd fled to, and she didn't have time to ponder it before the mask-donning form came crashing into the space.
Sophie was trained to fight, but that training only went so far, and years of operating as upper management meant she was clearly unprepared for the onslaught of precision from the masked figure. Worse, it was clear this person wasn't there to disarm: they were there to kill. She was pinned in moments and felt a hand slowly tighten and squeeze the life from her. She gasped and struggled but found her arms locked under knees straddling her. Blackness crawled from the edges of her vision, and a sinking wave of fear and regret filled her.
"What are you doing?" Sophie scowled at the unexpected newcomer.
"Hit me."
"What? No."
"You said you needed practice," Kate said, her stance set in front of Sophie.
Class had ended an hour prior, and, after a particularly contentious row of pins, Sophie felt a familiar fear of inferiority drive her to stay back and practice. She'd expertly gone through each move until she reached technical perfection but that didn't stop her from being knocked down over and over again. It was humiliating. Even the weakest of challengers had managed to out-do her, and failure didn't sit well with Sophie. So she punished herself with hours of training just like she punished herself with hours of studying.
"That's what punching bags are for," Sophie replied, striking the bag again.
"Do you have some paralysis mist hidden somewhere?"
"Some what?" Sophie asked, not taking her eyes off the bag.
"Paralysis mist."
"That's not a real thing," she said between hits.
"Exactly, which is why you shouldn't practice on a static object," Kate replied evenly.
The simplicity of the words struck Sophie to her core.
"Now, hit me."
"I'm not going to hit you."
"I know. It's because you can't."
"That's not true," Sophie scowled, turning toward Kate.
"Yes it is. And it's eating at you."
"No it isn't."
"Then why are you here?"
"Why are you here?" Sophie shot back.
"Because you need to learn."
"Learn? To hit you? I can hit just fine."
"No you can't," Kate said with a casualness that stirred an unexpected frustration.
"Excuse me?"
"You have no follow through. You never plant your feet."
"Yes, I do," Sophie replied, feeling her temper flare at Kate's criticism.
"Then show me. Hit me."
Sophie felt the grip loosen then suddenly release from around her throat. The surprise of cool air hit her lungs as she gasped to replenish oxygen to her deprived brain. She felt her arm slip free from the leg pinning her in place and felt it extend automatically with as much strength as she could muster into the mask's jaw.
The form's weight left her with a grunt of surprise. The masked face scrambled backwards, breathing frantically as though it had been the one who's throat had just been squeezed to near death. The mask was yanked off and discarded, and Sophie saw the silhouette of a female's face in the shadows. Short blonde hair was covered in sweat and plastered to her forehead, and her cheeks were highboned and gaunt.
Sophie felt her own limbs automatically bring her to a defensive squat, prepared for another attack, but one didn't come. Instead, three shaky words left the woman's mouth:
"Who are you?" the voice sounded terrified, cracking with an inflection of deep-seated horror - of confusion.
Sophie found herself lost for words as she stared back in her own confusion. This woman had just tried to kill her moments earlier; there hadn't been a moment's hesitation in her expertly placed strikes and attacks. But now? Now that same woman was practically hyperventilating feet from her, curled into a tiny ball like a terrified child. The woman's face turned upward, interrogating Sophie's face, as though searching for some explanation, for some memory.
It made Sophie falter. The two stared at each other in a silence that could have spanned eternity, their faces both distorted at the sight of a ghost from their pasts.
"Who are you?" Sophie whispered back. "Y-you-"
"Sophie!?" The cry from above directed their attention to the silhouette of Batwoman swinging her way toward them.
Before Sophie could stop her, the woman leapt up, grabbing the mask that had been carelessly tossed aside and took off in a bolt while hastily returning it to her face.
"No, wait," Sophie shouted, rushing to her feet, but the masked woman was already yards away, weaving into the depths of forgotten machinery and architecture.
She heard the boots of Batwoman land behind her.
"Sophie?" she asked. Even through the modulation Sophie could pick out the concern in Ryan's voice. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I…" Sophie fumbled for an explanation. The truth was she wasn't thinking. The truth was that she hadn't thought in days… weeks… maybe months. The truth was that she had mindlessly been searching for more and more dangerous situations. Whether she sought them to feel something or to gamble with her own life, well... she didn't know that either.
"Did you at least get a good look at the guy?" the cowled figure asked, clearly perturbed by the lack of forthcoming information from Sophie.
"Her," Sophie clarified dumbly.
"Her?" Batwoman asked.
Sophie nodded, her eyes locked on the spot where a pair of glowing green eyes had been moments earlier. The brightest green eyes she had ever seen, and she would know: she'd seen them before. They haunted her during the day. They haunted her at night. They haunted every memory she had running on repeat for months.
a/n: so, this might roll over into a Monday finale which is probably less of a problem for any of you readers, and more frustrating for me and my intended blitzkrieg-strategy of finishing this little fic by today. I think there are three only chapters remaining. Two are nearly done with the finale probably taking an extra minute to complete.