DECEMBER 2017, PRISON TOWER, 12:15PM

Guess I'll die.

This nonchalant thought crossed Dahlia's mind as she gazed down from the top of the tower. It had to be at least a forty foot drop before hitting the courtyard. Instant death, if Dahlia landed properly. Head first would be the way to go. No pain whatsoever.

Dahlia wasn't especially bothered by the fact that Morgan Fey's plan required her to die. She was due to be executed soon anyway, so at least this way she could go out on her own terms. After all the near-death experiences she had survived, it struck Dahlia as funny that suicide would be the final cause. The memory of Terry Fawles' final moments in the courtroom came to her mind. The difference was that fool had been tricked into drinking the poison, whereas Dahlia was doing this of her own free will. Either way, revenge was all she cared about at this point, and this was just the first step towards that goal. Her last step.

Dahlia didn't bother saying goodbye to anyone. Sahwit would be heartbroken at first, but would soon find another master whose boots he could lick. White would be relieved to have her out of his life. Dee... well she did feel a little bad leaving her behind without a word; they had formed a strong bond after all. But she would understand. Gant wouldn't care either way, and her humiliation at Gant's hands in the pool still infuriated her. She had tried poisoning his food, but the oaf scarfed it all down like nothing, somehow immune to it all! Dahlia hoped she landed on him and took him to the afterlife with her.

With that thought, Dahlia took a deep breath and steadied herself. No turning back now. She took a step and let gravity bring her down.

Not like this.

The thought struck her at the last moment. Dahlia hesitated, swiftly bringing her foot back from the ledge. The sudden movement made her lose balance, so she brought her foot down again. It landed awkwardly, making Dahlia cry out. She heard a crack in her ankle and collapsed to the floor. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She nursed her now-swollen ankle. Definitely sprained, she thought to herself. Goddamnit.

PRISON CLINIC, 1:15PM

'Yup, that's a bad one, Ms. Hawthorne. Gonna need to keep it in a cast for at least a week. How did it happen?'

'None of your business.'

Dahlia was lying on the clinic bed, letting the prison doctor inspect her injury. The pain was gone for now, but Dahlia knew if she put any weight on her right foot, it would return sharply. But she forced herself to remain expressionless. And she definitely wasn't about to tell anyone what she was doing in that tower.

'O-okay, no problem. I'm just going to update your medical records.'

'You do that.' Dahlia said lazily, gazing at the ceiling.

The doctor nervously shuffle out of the room, leaving Dahlia alone with one other patient. He wore circus clothing, with face paint and some kind of gold headband on his head. He had a tanned, muscled physique. Clearly in good shape.

And he was in a wheelchair.

A lot of good that muscle will do him in a wheelchair, Dahlia thought, smirking to herself.

The man turned to her, as if reading her mind. But he had an easy smile on his face, so he obviously hadn't.

'That looks like it hurts quite a bit.' The man asked, clearly trying to break the ice.

'Yes, well, I don't expect you to know what leg pain feels like.'

The man laughed, not the reaction Dahlia was expecting.

'Actually I do. The doctor says the mobility in my legs is slowly improving. Nowhere close to walking, mind you, but getting there. My name's Acro.'

'Dahlia.' she responded, 'Do you always laugh like a fool when someone insults you, Wheels?'

'I find it better than holding a grudge, yes. And it seems you have enough to worry about as is.'

Dahlia narrowed her eyes, 'Meaning?'

'You tried to kill yourself earlier.'

It would've taken superhuman control not to react to this. Dahlia wasn't superhuman. The shock had to be evident on her face, since Acro nodded as if it were confirmation.

'I assume you backed out at the last moment and injured yourself in the process. Am I close?'

Dahlia shrugged. Clearly she wasn't getting anything past this human lie-detector.

'Absurdly so. I'm going to commit suicide, return as a ghost and stab my great enemy's sister in the heart.'

Acro's face remained passive, as if he hadn't just heard a murder plot.

'What, not going to laugh this time?'

'Of course not. This is too serious. Why would you want to kill someone in cold blood?'

Dahlia gave the obvious answer. 'Revenge.'

Acro sat back and closed his eyes, thinking deeply for a moment. Dahlia was about to make another crude wheelchair joke when he spoke up again.

'I know all about revenge, believe me. It's all I've thought about the last few months.'

'What, you killed someone to get in here?'

'Dropped a bust on his head.'

Dahlia was impressed, 'Wow. Didn't think you had it in you, Acro.'

'Actually I couldn't see who I was dropping it on, on account of my condition, so I ended up killing the wrong person.'

Dahlia couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. She was in hysterics for a good few minutes, and all the while Acro sat with a sad smile on his face. A bird inexplicably landed on Acro's shoulder while Dahlia regained her composure.

'Ahaha, that is brilliant, Acro! You killed the wrong person? I bet the court got a laugh out of that one!'

'No, they were quite understanding. And after the trial, I met the person I originally wanted to get my revenge on. After a long talk, we... forgave each other.'

Dahlia stared back, amusement gone from her face, 'You make it sound so easy.'

'It wasn't, believe me. I hated her for what she did to my brother, and she hated me for what I did to her father. It was an emotional conversation, but we came to an understanding. No more violence needed.'

'Ridiculous. Perhaps if you had killed your intended target, you would've felt a lot better.'

'Perhaps, but I doubt it. Even after getting my revenge, what comes after? I would've felt hollow inside. All life is precious, and taking a life doesn't help anyone.'

Dahlia looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language.

'Sorry Acro, but the only life precious to me is my own.'

'And yet you were so quick to throw it away.'

Dahlia had no response to that.

'I'd like you to think about my advice before you... try again. Will you please, Dahlia?'

She sighed, then shrugged again, 'I suppose. You did make me laugh, which is rare for me, so I guess I owe you one.'

'Haha, that works for me. And might I suggest... meeting with the one you want revenge on? It worked wonders for me.'

Meet Mia Fey? Dahlia pondered the idea. Maybe Morgan could channel her, if the old hag has any spiritual power left.

'I'll think about it.'

'Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few questions for the doctor.' And with that, Acro rolled out of the room, leaving Dahlia to her thoughts.

Forgiveness. Compassion. Understanding. Not concepts that Dahlia was exactly familiar with. She had never been give any of these things in her life, so why should she give any out in return? Not to mention it was the exact opposite of what she had learned from Manfred von Karma. But she promised Acro she would give it a shot, so she may as well. It's not as if there was much else she could do, since she'd be stuck in a damn cast for the next week. Dahlia would contact Morgan to see about channeling Mia, and she swore to be... compassionate (the word almost made her vomit) to the next inmate that arrived in her palace.