START PART 6
I've lost total track of time now. I really have no idea how much of it has passed but I'm thinking in terms of days. My injury wasn't horrific but I did lose a lot of blood. It could have been life-threatening if not for the hurried way in which two officers carried me into the hospital.
I'm okay now I guess.
The doctor has told me that I'll be on crutches for a while. Apparently I was lucky and the bullet didn't hit any bone but it did tear through the muscle of my calf. Significant tissue damage was what he said.
"Jesse?"
I blink and look up towards the door. My eyesight is foggy from exhaustion but it slowly clears as I focus on the tall man standing in the doorway.
"Lieutenant," I reply, trying to be crisp.
He puts up a hand. "Skip the formalities Jesse," Daniel Balestrom instructs me. He moves further into the room and then slides into the chair next to my bed. He folds his hands together but I can see that he's fidgeting. He's garbed in his dress uniform which means that he's been attending to official business.
I'm dressed in boxer shorts and a wife beater and my leg is wrapped in tape in front of my body. Marked difference if you ask me. There's a blanket over the other half of me. "What brings you here?" I ask.
"I wanted to check in on you," he tells me. "And let you know that we buried the commissioner this morning."
I push myself into the sitting position. "I should have been there," I say, my voice heavy. Commissioner Montgomery wasn't a close friend but he was someone who helped me out considerably. He believed in me in spite of my family line. He knew who I was and gave me a chance anyways. I'll always be indebted to him for that.
"A lot of officers missed the funeral," he informs me. He sighs and I can see that he's tired. "I have an afternoon full of funerals to go to but I wanted to check in on you. You were lucky, you know that?"
I nod slowly. "I do," I say.
"You went right up into that's one face. I'm still not sure how you survived but thank God you did." Balestrom shook his head. "You got closer to her than anyone else. Jesse, did you see anything that can help us identify her?"
"How do you know it was a her?" I ask, shaking a bit more than I'd like.
"Did you see the way that one moved? Never seen a guy move with that much ass."
I chuckle. Yeah, that's Helena. Even in whatever the hell state she was in. Too much ass for her own good.
"Right," I say. "I didn't see anything. Not even her eyes."
"Damn. We think she might be the only one of the leaders to have gotten out alive. Collins and Hunter were both killed."
"No idea," I say, really wishing this conversation would end. I like Danny Balestrom just fine, he's a hell of a guy but I don't want to talk to anybody about Helena right now.
Anybody.
"Okay," he says. "Look, you're gonna be off duty for awhile. No point in one of my best detectives hobbling about on crutches and they tell me you'll be on them for a few months."
"Great," I mutter. "I'm not really good at not working."
"And you're really very bad at desk duty. This is the best for everyone Jesse, trust me."
I snort. He's not wrong. I'm the kind of cop who needs to be moving constantly. Otherwise I'll go crazy. I've always been that type of person. Just who I am.
Daniel stands up to leave. He gets halfway to the door and then turns back. "Just to let you know, the department has made me the temporary Commissioner. Don't know how long it'll last."
"Congratulations," I say weakly, dropping my head back against the pillow. "How long have I been here? I don't know what day it is."
"It's Wednesday," he replies. "About five days. The ball was Friday night. And thanks, I think. Still not sure I want it."
"I know," I offer,
He gives me one more small smile and then exits.
I close my eyes for a long beat and let my chest rise and fall. I can feel the painkillers in my system but I can also tell that they're ebbing because I can feel a strange buzzing in my leg; it hurts.
She shot me.
I don't know what was wrong with her but she sure as hell wasn't the woman that I've been sharing my bed with for the last several months.
Even pissed off at me and trust me when I say she gets there and often, she'd never try to hurt me like that. It's not her way.
Guns aren't Helena Kyle's way.
She likes using her fists and her feet. I think it makes her feel stronger to know that her body is a lethal weapon. She's not above using something lying around her as a weapon but she's unlikely to ever bring one into a fight.
The gun was given to her by Collins.
He did something to her.
And she almost killed me.
I tell you, time stopped in those few seconds between when she fired the gun and Dinah tossed me against the tables. I think for a moment I was actually sure I was dead.
And then everything exploded in me.
I remember looking up at the exact moment when Wolf shot her in the back. I tried to scream but nothing came out. I tried again when Helena spun and nailed Wolf right through the mask.
I've seen a lot in my life. I've seen a man be electrocuted and I've seen a whimpering woman on her knees be drilled with a bullet between the eyes as a message to her old man. All thanks to my dad.
That was extreme though.
The bullet must have hit her dead center in the face because everything exploded outwards. She must have died instantly. She had to have.
In any case, Helena fired the gun. She got the kill.
Along with a few others I'm sure.
I wonder what that means.
I know that girl. At least I think I do.
I've been sharing a bed with her for almost six months.
We've never exchanged terms of endearment so to speak but I have to believe that we're right there.
Or were.
No no, I'm not backing out.
I know she'll need me more than ever.
I knew this was in her.
I knew what she was capable of.
But she didn't do this.
He did it to her. He made her into a murderer.
You see I've always believed that she could kill one of the creeps she fights but I never bought that she was capable of cold-blooded murder.
He changed things.
She won't see that.
She's going to panic and freak out. I can only imagine her reaction and you know, I promise that whatever I'm thinking, it'll be that much worse.
I don't know how to save her.
I don't know if she'll let me.
"You need to go back to school," Barbara told her, dry humor in her tone. "You've been milking this dry."
"Have not," Dinah said as she moved around the kitchen. She snatched up a glass of orange juice and downed it. "I'm just, I don't know, not in the mood to care about the square whatever of my backyard."
"You don't have a backyard," Barbara cracked, sipping from her coffee cup.
"That's true," Dinah said nodding. "More reason why I shouldn't care."
"Uh huh. Look, things are calming down. We have to get back into a rhythm," Barbara insisted.
"And we will once Helena's awake for longer than five minutes at a time," Dinah replied, her eyes drifting out of the kitchen and towards the med lab. "When will that be?"
"It should be soon. She's doing much better. She'll be wearing a sling for awhile because of the bullet but for all that trouble that side wound caused her, it's healing nicely."
"She'll be okay right?" Dinah asked, her voice getting suddenly very low.
Barbara frowned. She wanted to be able to lie but found that she lacked the heart to do it. Dinah was young but she was hardly a child. She deserved the truth. "It's not going to be easy for her," she started. "She's not going to take it well."
"We'll be able to help her though?"
"Only as much as she'll let us," Barbara said softly. She wheeled around to Dinah's side. "I've known her a lot longer than you and one of her staples...one of her constants...is that when she's in pain, she retreats."
"We can stop her," Dinah insisted, putting the glass down.
Barbara shook her head. "You can't force someone to be how you want them to be. We can't make Helena accept what she's just been through and we can't make her understand that it wasn't her fault. She has to come to that on her own. We can help but only as much as she'll allow."
"I don't like that," Dinah said dully. "We're family. Family helps..."
Barbara reached out for her hand. "Dinah you need to understand here, this isn't going to be easy. There's no way that it could be. Despite all of her anger, Helena isn't by nature someone who can kill without remorse. She's taken a human life. Probably more than one." Barbara paused and then finally whispered. "This should hurt."
"But it's not her fault," Dinah cried out, desperation in her eyes.
"It doesn't matter," Barbara replied, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter at all."
"Right," Dinah said. "You know what, you're right; I do want to go to school. I need to...I need to..."
"Get away?" Barbara finished for her, eyebrow lifting.
"Yeah," Dinah said, a little more color draining out of her cheeks. "Pretty weak huh?"
"Dinah this isn't going to be easy for any of us," Barbara informed her. "But you're right, you can use some space and maybe a little geometry might be..."
"Okay that's taking it a bit too far," Dinah snorted. She lifted up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "I'll walk. I...the air...right."
Barbara smiled at her warmly and the watched as the girl all but fled from the kitchen.
She didn't understand.
How could she?
Helena had always been two steps away from a mental breakdown and three away from stepping over the edge of a very high cliff. Her anger had always propelled her, made her stronger. It had also always been the greatest threat to both her body and soul.
"Miss Barbara?"
"Alfred?" Barbara said, looking up at him. "She's awake?"
"She is," he said. "She's confused."
"I imagine," she grunted. "You think I can lie to her? Tell her everything is okay? I mean she probably doesn't remember just yet."
He offered her a kind smile. "You could," he said. "But she will eventually find out. And really, you'd only be buying yourself a few days." He paused. "In the long run, those few days wouldn't be worth it."
"I know," Barbara admitted bitterly. "I just...God, I just don't want to deal with this. How stupid is that?"
"Stupid is relative, I suppose. But deal we must."
Barbara turned her chair towards the doorway. "Right. Deal we must."
I feel so strange. Like my body isn't quite my own. Like everything attached to me belongs to someone else. It's a new feeling for me.
I turn in the bed I'm in and involuntarily I hiss in pain. I turn my head and see that my arm is in a sling. Upon closer inspection I see that I have tape around my shoulder.
"Hey," I hear a voice say from the doorway. I turn towards it and see Barbara there. She looks tired but she's still smiling at me. That's a relief.
"Hey," I grunt. "What did I do to myself this time?"
"It's a long story," Barbara says, her tone strange. I don't know what to make of it but I decide to let it pass.
"Well start talking," I say, sitting up in the bed. I reach across to detach the IV that's hooked into my arm. I hate when she sticks me with these things. They hurt like hell and they make me feel funny. I squint. "Wait? Is this all because of that little cut I got on my side? Christ Barb, you really hooked me up good. Did I at least get some good drugs?"
"Something like that," she says, tilting her head. "Helena, things have happened. Bad things. We need to talk."
I feel dread sock me right in the gut. I fold my fingers into my blankets and tighten them into fists. "Dinah?"
She shakes her head.
My gut gets harder. It feels like cement now.
"Reese?"
She shakes her head again.
I grab at the sheets harder. My throat constricts. The look in her eyes tells me that whatever has happened is bad. The way she's not being able to meet my eyes tells me that I've done something.
"What did I do?" I whisper.
She turns around and looks at Alfred. They seem to be having a silent conversation. They have a vibe all their own but this is one that I can read plainly. She's asking if she should tell me. He's saying that she should.
I find myself trying to push backwards into the bed I'm lying in. I suddenly don't want to hear what she's about to tell me.
"Helena," she starts. She's trying to figure out how to soften the blow. "How much do you remember?"
I look down at myself, my eyes scanning over my body. My side aches and I can see that I'm gauzed up like a damn mummy. My shoulder is wrapped as well. I've been through something. I think I recall being stabbed but it wasn't this bad. It was a damn scratch.
"I don't," I mutter. "I don't remember anything."
"Try," she insists. "What's the last thing?"
I shake my head. Whatever it is I don't want to know. Instinctively I know that it will change everything.
It will change me.
I don't want to know.
Please.
"Nothing," I say dully. "I don't remember anything." I look up at her and say with my voice trembling, "Nothing happened."
She slides over to me so that she's inches away.
She's still not meeting my eyes.
I wonder if she hates me.
What did I do?
"Helena," she says, her voice thick with emotion. She's trying to tell me something but she can't seem to find the words. That tells me that it's worse than I thought.
I put an arm out to separate myself from her and I jump to my feet. For a moment everything whirls and I almost fall backwards. I jerk out with my good arm and balance myself but my eyes stay hazy for a few seconds more.
"Miss Helena," Alfred calls out, moving towards me as if to assist me. I put my hand up to stop him.
"Fine," I say. "I'm fine. I need air."
"You're not going anywhere in the condition you're in," Barbara insists. She puts her arm against mine and gives me a shove backwards. I hit the pillows with a soft thud but both of my injuries scream at me.
"I don't know what condition I'm in," I insist. "I don't know what the hell is going on but you are scaring the living shit out of me. Barbara, what did I do?"
She pauses for a long moment, searching for the words. Finally she replies, "You killed."
I shake my head even though I know it's possible. I know my own strength and God knows I know my anger. It's hardly even unlikely that I might have finally gone too far.
This is worse though.
Her look tells me this wasn't a matter of me hitting a thug too hard one too many times.
This is more.
"Who?" I cough out, the air catching in my throat.
"Helena, it's complex," she tells me.
"How complex is it Barbara? Who did I kill and why? And why are you looking at me like I'm some kind of animal?"
"I'm not," Barbara insists, her expression looking like she's been slapped. I don't buy it or maybe my anger is starting to cloud my perception. If I did something horrible, I want to know right now.
It can't be that bad, right?
"Barbara, damn it, who?"
She reaches down to her lap and picks up a newspaper that had been rested there. Funny that I hadn't seen it before. She holds it out to me.
I take it from her and begin to scan over the large black letter.
Commissioner murdered.
Seventeen cops executed.
Gunfight at the Shield Ball.
Animal Gang.
Oh fuck.
It all comes spinning back to me at the same time. Kind of like a tidal wave from hell. I feel myself fall backwards from the force of it all. I lift a hand to my forehead. The newspaper slips out of my palm and falls to the ground, scattering every which way.
"Helena," she says, reaching out for me.
I slap her hand away with as much strength as I can muster. I start pulling at the rest of the cords and tubes attached to me. I feel like I'm in a red haze.
I rub the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to get the red out. I feel my knees wobbling beneath me but I refuse to fall. I won't fall.
I won't.
I look up at Barbara and I can tell by her reaction that my expression isn't a good one. She looks frightened.
I think.
"This is me?" I spit out, anger and fear in my voice.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
"No," Barbara whispers. "It wasn't your fault."
"You don't believe that," I say. I stop for a second and suddenly the anger all melts away. "And neither do I."
I fall backwards towards the bed. She looks at me surprised. She expected more.
I want to tell her to wait.
It'll come.
Just not yet.
I remember that night too clearly now.
Letting Mick make out with me.
Firing into a crowd.
Shooting Reese.
Killing Wolf.
My hands are soaked red.
"Helena, they did this to you. You were drugged."
"I know," I say. "Topside. It doesn't matter."
"It does," she insists. "It does. You weren't acting..."
I hold up my hand to stop her. "I want to sleep," I say dully. I know I should feel more right now but I don't.
Just cold.
She looks up at Alfred for advice. He doesn't have any. He shrugs. Her head falls a bit.
I hate myself more.
"Sure," she says hesitantly. "We'll talk later."
"Yes," I reply. "We'll talk."
Then I turn my head away from her and move it towards the pillow. I know she wants to come to me, to offer support. I keep my arm up and outstretched in order to tell her not to.
I don't want her arms around me.
I don't deserve them.
Maybe two minutes pass before I finally hear the faint whistle of her wheels turning as she exits the room. I exhale sharply as she leaves and then I bend my head further towards my pillow. I want to scream.
I bite the pillow instead.
I want to cry.
I don't.
I won't.
I close my eyes.
And I fade.
This is hell.
"You're up," Barbara Gordon said, turning towards the kitchen door. She wore an overly large smile on her face, one that didn't quite meet her eyes.
One that faded the moment she saw Helena leaning against the wall with a bag over her shoulder.
"I'm up," Helena agreed. "And I'm out."
"Back to your apartment?" Barbara asked, trying to play dumb. "Are you sure you feel well..."
"Let's not do this okay?" Helena asked, impatience in her tone. "We both know what's going on here."
"Helena, don't."
The brunette offered her mentor a small smile. "I'm done here. I'm just done. I can't do this anymore. I can't."
"Helena..."
"Look, we both know how this works. I should be in jail right now. I should be on trial. It doesn't matter what was in me. It matters what I am. You can fight it all the way down the line but the truth is, I am a killer. That was me."
"You can't believe that," Barbara insisted.
"I do. And so do you," Helena said simply. "Look, let's make this easy on both of us..."
"That's impossible. You're walking away from us..."
Helena shook her head. "No Barbara, I did that a long time ago. I'm just leaving. I'm just done."
"You call it what you want to but it's still quitting."
Helena turned abruptly, exasperating and fury etched across her face. "Fine then, I'm quitting. I'm fucking quitting. And you know what, maybe that means no one else will die because of me. How is that a bad thing?"
"You're not a killer," Barbara snapped back.
"Yes I am. I've always been it. I've just kept it under control." She stepped closer to her mentor. "Face it, I'm just like every monster we've ever hunted. I'm the same. I keep on this path and one day you'll really have to stop me."
"Helena, I know you. This was forced on..."
"Stop. Just stop it. I'm no one's victim. I killed. I murdered." She held up her hands. "They're red Barbara. They're stained."
"He drugged you," Barbara hissed, feeling as if her stomach was spinning. She could feel how this was getting out of hand. She had known it would be bad but the utter desolation she saw in her young protégé's eyes was far worse than she ever could have imagined.
"Maybe he did but in the end, he just brought me out." She shook her head. "I'm not going to have this fight with you. I could have left in the middle of the night. I probably should have. I'm being selfish. I needed to say goodbye..."
"Don't..."
"Please...I owe you this. You've done everything for me and I've never been anything but a burden. Don't bother protesting because we both know it's true." She took a deep breath. "I'm no longer your concern."
"Helena, don't do this," Barbara pleaded. "This team needs you."
"No it doesn't."
"What about Reese?"
Helena looked down and away. Finally she whispered, "Not that I think it'll matter but tell him I'm sorry." She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears. "Tell him not to come around. I don't want to see him either. This is it Barbara, This is the end of the line."
"I need you..."
"I'm sorry," Helena replied dully, not able to meet her mentor's eyes. "I'm so sorry."
Barbara opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. She knew at that moment that she could have spent the next ten hours arguing with Helena and the result would still have been the same.
Helena Kyle was leaving.
The Huntress was dead.
"If you need..."
Helena held up a hand. "Don't worry about me. Just don't. I promise I won't make you come after me. I won't disappoint you more than I have. At least I'll try."
She turned hard on her heel, the bag swinging against her good shoulder. Her other arm was still in a sling but she wasn't paying it much attention.
"Helena," Barbara called after her.
The brunette kept walking, her gait hard and rigid. She hit the button for the elevator with her fist. It opened a few seconds later and she stepped into it. She didn't turn back to face Barbara.
The doors slid shut with a final click and the lift began to whirl as it descended.
Barbara dropped her head to her lap, hands over her face.
"Don't leave," she finished, her voice wracked by sobs.
And from behind her Alfred just watched, his stomach in knots.
Everything was broken now.
Just broken.
-FIN
NOTE: There are two more stories in this series. The next to come is Lose Yourself. Look for that to be posted shortly. It is already completed.
I've lost total track of time now. I really have no idea how much of it has passed but I'm thinking in terms of days. My injury wasn't horrific but I did lose a lot of blood. It could have been life-threatening if not for the hurried way in which two officers carried me into the hospital.
I'm okay now I guess.
The doctor has told me that I'll be on crutches for a while. Apparently I was lucky and the bullet didn't hit any bone but it did tear through the muscle of my calf. Significant tissue damage was what he said.
"Jesse?"
I blink and look up towards the door. My eyesight is foggy from exhaustion but it slowly clears as I focus on the tall man standing in the doorway.
"Lieutenant," I reply, trying to be crisp.
He puts up a hand. "Skip the formalities Jesse," Daniel Balestrom instructs me. He moves further into the room and then slides into the chair next to my bed. He folds his hands together but I can see that he's fidgeting. He's garbed in his dress uniform which means that he's been attending to official business.
I'm dressed in boxer shorts and a wife beater and my leg is wrapped in tape in front of my body. Marked difference if you ask me. There's a blanket over the other half of me. "What brings you here?" I ask.
"I wanted to check in on you," he tells me. "And let you know that we buried the commissioner this morning."
I push myself into the sitting position. "I should have been there," I say, my voice heavy. Commissioner Montgomery wasn't a close friend but he was someone who helped me out considerably. He believed in me in spite of my family line. He knew who I was and gave me a chance anyways. I'll always be indebted to him for that.
"A lot of officers missed the funeral," he informs me. He sighs and I can see that he's tired. "I have an afternoon full of funerals to go to but I wanted to check in on you. You were lucky, you know that?"
I nod slowly. "I do," I say.
"You went right up into that's one face. I'm still not sure how you survived but thank God you did." Balestrom shook his head. "You got closer to her than anyone else. Jesse, did you see anything that can help us identify her?"
"How do you know it was a her?" I ask, shaking a bit more than I'd like.
"Did you see the way that one moved? Never seen a guy move with that much ass."
I chuckle. Yeah, that's Helena. Even in whatever the hell state she was in. Too much ass for her own good.
"Right," I say. "I didn't see anything. Not even her eyes."
"Damn. We think she might be the only one of the leaders to have gotten out alive. Collins and Hunter were both killed."
"No idea," I say, really wishing this conversation would end. I like Danny Balestrom just fine, he's a hell of a guy but I don't want to talk to anybody about Helena right now.
Anybody.
"Okay," he says. "Look, you're gonna be off duty for awhile. No point in one of my best detectives hobbling about on crutches and they tell me you'll be on them for a few months."
"Great," I mutter. "I'm not really good at not working."
"And you're really very bad at desk duty. This is the best for everyone Jesse, trust me."
I snort. He's not wrong. I'm the kind of cop who needs to be moving constantly. Otherwise I'll go crazy. I've always been that type of person. Just who I am.
Daniel stands up to leave. He gets halfway to the door and then turns back. "Just to let you know, the department has made me the temporary Commissioner. Don't know how long it'll last."
"Congratulations," I say weakly, dropping my head back against the pillow. "How long have I been here? I don't know what day it is."
"It's Wednesday," he replies. "About five days. The ball was Friday night. And thanks, I think. Still not sure I want it."
"I know," I offer,
He gives me one more small smile and then exits.
I close my eyes for a long beat and let my chest rise and fall. I can feel the painkillers in my system but I can also tell that they're ebbing because I can feel a strange buzzing in my leg; it hurts.
She shot me.
I don't know what was wrong with her but she sure as hell wasn't the woman that I've been sharing my bed with for the last several months.
Even pissed off at me and trust me when I say she gets there and often, she'd never try to hurt me like that. It's not her way.
Guns aren't Helena Kyle's way.
She likes using her fists and her feet. I think it makes her feel stronger to know that her body is a lethal weapon. She's not above using something lying around her as a weapon but she's unlikely to ever bring one into a fight.
The gun was given to her by Collins.
He did something to her.
And she almost killed me.
I tell you, time stopped in those few seconds between when she fired the gun and Dinah tossed me against the tables. I think for a moment I was actually sure I was dead.
And then everything exploded in me.
I remember looking up at the exact moment when Wolf shot her in the back. I tried to scream but nothing came out. I tried again when Helena spun and nailed Wolf right through the mask.
I've seen a lot in my life. I've seen a man be electrocuted and I've seen a whimpering woman on her knees be drilled with a bullet between the eyes as a message to her old man. All thanks to my dad.
That was extreme though.
The bullet must have hit her dead center in the face because everything exploded outwards. She must have died instantly. She had to have.
In any case, Helena fired the gun. She got the kill.
Along with a few others I'm sure.
I wonder what that means.
I know that girl. At least I think I do.
I've been sharing a bed with her for almost six months.
We've never exchanged terms of endearment so to speak but I have to believe that we're right there.
Or were.
No no, I'm not backing out.
I know she'll need me more than ever.
I knew this was in her.
I knew what she was capable of.
But she didn't do this.
He did it to her. He made her into a murderer.
You see I've always believed that she could kill one of the creeps she fights but I never bought that she was capable of cold-blooded murder.
He changed things.
She won't see that.
She's going to panic and freak out. I can only imagine her reaction and you know, I promise that whatever I'm thinking, it'll be that much worse.
I don't know how to save her.
I don't know if she'll let me.
"You need to go back to school," Barbara told her, dry humor in her tone. "You've been milking this dry."
"Have not," Dinah said as she moved around the kitchen. She snatched up a glass of orange juice and downed it. "I'm just, I don't know, not in the mood to care about the square whatever of my backyard."
"You don't have a backyard," Barbara cracked, sipping from her coffee cup.
"That's true," Dinah said nodding. "More reason why I shouldn't care."
"Uh huh. Look, things are calming down. We have to get back into a rhythm," Barbara insisted.
"And we will once Helena's awake for longer than five minutes at a time," Dinah replied, her eyes drifting out of the kitchen and towards the med lab. "When will that be?"
"It should be soon. She's doing much better. She'll be wearing a sling for awhile because of the bullet but for all that trouble that side wound caused her, it's healing nicely."
"She'll be okay right?" Dinah asked, her voice getting suddenly very low.
Barbara frowned. She wanted to be able to lie but found that she lacked the heart to do it. Dinah was young but she was hardly a child. She deserved the truth. "It's not going to be easy for her," she started. "She's not going to take it well."
"We'll be able to help her though?"
"Only as much as she'll let us," Barbara said softly. She wheeled around to Dinah's side. "I've known her a lot longer than you and one of her staples...one of her constants...is that when she's in pain, she retreats."
"We can stop her," Dinah insisted, putting the glass down.
Barbara shook her head. "You can't force someone to be how you want them to be. We can't make Helena accept what she's just been through and we can't make her understand that it wasn't her fault. She has to come to that on her own. We can help but only as much as she'll allow."
"I don't like that," Dinah said dully. "We're family. Family helps..."
Barbara reached out for her hand. "Dinah you need to understand here, this isn't going to be easy. There's no way that it could be. Despite all of her anger, Helena isn't by nature someone who can kill without remorse. She's taken a human life. Probably more than one." Barbara paused and then finally whispered. "This should hurt."
"But it's not her fault," Dinah cried out, desperation in her eyes.
"It doesn't matter," Barbara replied, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter at all."
"Right," Dinah said. "You know what, you're right; I do want to go to school. I need to...I need to..."
"Get away?" Barbara finished for her, eyebrow lifting.
"Yeah," Dinah said, a little more color draining out of her cheeks. "Pretty weak huh?"
"Dinah this isn't going to be easy for any of us," Barbara informed her. "But you're right, you can use some space and maybe a little geometry might be..."
"Okay that's taking it a bit too far," Dinah snorted. She lifted up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "I'll walk. I...the air...right."
Barbara smiled at her warmly and the watched as the girl all but fled from the kitchen.
She didn't understand.
How could she?
Helena had always been two steps away from a mental breakdown and three away from stepping over the edge of a very high cliff. Her anger had always propelled her, made her stronger. It had also always been the greatest threat to both her body and soul.
"Miss Barbara?"
"Alfred?" Barbara said, looking up at him. "She's awake?"
"She is," he said. "She's confused."
"I imagine," she grunted. "You think I can lie to her? Tell her everything is okay? I mean she probably doesn't remember just yet."
He offered her a kind smile. "You could," he said. "But she will eventually find out. And really, you'd only be buying yourself a few days." He paused. "In the long run, those few days wouldn't be worth it."
"I know," Barbara admitted bitterly. "I just...God, I just don't want to deal with this. How stupid is that?"
"Stupid is relative, I suppose. But deal we must."
Barbara turned her chair towards the doorway. "Right. Deal we must."
I feel so strange. Like my body isn't quite my own. Like everything attached to me belongs to someone else. It's a new feeling for me.
I turn in the bed I'm in and involuntarily I hiss in pain. I turn my head and see that my arm is in a sling. Upon closer inspection I see that I have tape around my shoulder.
"Hey," I hear a voice say from the doorway. I turn towards it and see Barbara there. She looks tired but she's still smiling at me. That's a relief.
"Hey," I grunt. "What did I do to myself this time?"
"It's a long story," Barbara says, her tone strange. I don't know what to make of it but I decide to let it pass.
"Well start talking," I say, sitting up in the bed. I reach across to detach the IV that's hooked into my arm. I hate when she sticks me with these things. They hurt like hell and they make me feel funny. I squint. "Wait? Is this all because of that little cut I got on my side? Christ Barb, you really hooked me up good. Did I at least get some good drugs?"
"Something like that," she says, tilting her head. "Helena, things have happened. Bad things. We need to talk."
I feel dread sock me right in the gut. I fold my fingers into my blankets and tighten them into fists. "Dinah?"
She shakes her head.
My gut gets harder. It feels like cement now.
"Reese?"
She shakes her head again.
I grab at the sheets harder. My throat constricts. The look in her eyes tells me that whatever has happened is bad. The way she's not being able to meet my eyes tells me that I've done something.
"What did I do?" I whisper.
She turns around and looks at Alfred. They seem to be having a silent conversation. They have a vibe all their own but this is one that I can read plainly. She's asking if she should tell me. He's saying that she should.
I find myself trying to push backwards into the bed I'm lying in. I suddenly don't want to hear what she's about to tell me.
"Helena," she starts. She's trying to figure out how to soften the blow. "How much do you remember?"
I look down at myself, my eyes scanning over my body. My side aches and I can see that I'm gauzed up like a damn mummy. My shoulder is wrapped as well. I've been through something. I think I recall being stabbed but it wasn't this bad. It was a damn scratch.
"I don't," I mutter. "I don't remember anything."
"Try," she insists. "What's the last thing?"
I shake my head. Whatever it is I don't want to know. Instinctively I know that it will change everything.
It will change me.
I don't want to know.
Please.
"Nothing," I say dully. "I don't remember anything." I look up at her and say with my voice trembling, "Nothing happened."
She slides over to me so that she's inches away.
She's still not meeting my eyes.
I wonder if she hates me.
What did I do?
"Helena," she says, her voice thick with emotion. She's trying to tell me something but she can't seem to find the words. That tells me that it's worse than I thought.
I put an arm out to separate myself from her and I jump to my feet. For a moment everything whirls and I almost fall backwards. I jerk out with my good arm and balance myself but my eyes stay hazy for a few seconds more.
"Miss Helena," Alfred calls out, moving towards me as if to assist me. I put my hand up to stop him.
"Fine," I say. "I'm fine. I need air."
"You're not going anywhere in the condition you're in," Barbara insists. She puts her arm against mine and gives me a shove backwards. I hit the pillows with a soft thud but both of my injuries scream at me.
"I don't know what condition I'm in," I insist. "I don't know what the hell is going on but you are scaring the living shit out of me. Barbara, what did I do?"
She pauses for a long moment, searching for the words. Finally she replies, "You killed."
I shake my head even though I know it's possible. I know my own strength and God knows I know my anger. It's hardly even unlikely that I might have finally gone too far.
This is worse though.
Her look tells me this wasn't a matter of me hitting a thug too hard one too many times.
This is more.
"Who?" I cough out, the air catching in my throat.
"Helena, it's complex," she tells me.
"How complex is it Barbara? Who did I kill and why? And why are you looking at me like I'm some kind of animal?"
"I'm not," Barbara insists, her expression looking like she's been slapped. I don't buy it or maybe my anger is starting to cloud my perception. If I did something horrible, I want to know right now.
It can't be that bad, right?
"Barbara, damn it, who?"
She reaches down to her lap and picks up a newspaper that had been rested there. Funny that I hadn't seen it before. She holds it out to me.
I take it from her and begin to scan over the large black letter.
Commissioner murdered.
Seventeen cops executed.
Gunfight at the Shield Ball.
Animal Gang.
Oh fuck.
It all comes spinning back to me at the same time. Kind of like a tidal wave from hell. I feel myself fall backwards from the force of it all. I lift a hand to my forehead. The newspaper slips out of my palm and falls to the ground, scattering every which way.
"Helena," she says, reaching out for me.
I slap her hand away with as much strength as I can muster. I start pulling at the rest of the cords and tubes attached to me. I feel like I'm in a red haze.
I rub the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to get the red out. I feel my knees wobbling beneath me but I refuse to fall. I won't fall.
I won't.
I look up at Barbara and I can tell by her reaction that my expression isn't a good one. She looks frightened.
I think.
"This is me?" I spit out, anger and fear in my voice.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
"No," Barbara whispers. "It wasn't your fault."
"You don't believe that," I say. I stop for a second and suddenly the anger all melts away. "And neither do I."
I fall backwards towards the bed. She looks at me surprised. She expected more.
I want to tell her to wait.
It'll come.
Just not yet.
I remember that night too clearly now.
Letting Mick make out with me.
Firing into a crowd.
Shooting Reese.
Killing Wolf.
My hands are soaked red.
"Helena, they did this to you. You were drugged."
"I know," I say. "Topside. It doesn't matter."
"It does," she insists. "It does. You weren't acting..."
I hold up my hand to stop her. "I want to sleep," I say dully. I know I should feel more right now but I don't.
Just cold.
She looks up at Alfred for advice. He doesn't have any. He shrugs. Her head falls a bit.
I hate myself more.
"Sure," she says hesitantly. "We'll talk later."
"Yes," I reply. "We'll talk."
Then I turn my head away from her and move it towards the pillow. I know she wants to come to me, to offer support. I keep my arm up and outstretched in order to tell her not to.
I don't want her arms around me.
I don't deserve them.
Maybe two minutes pass before I finally hear the faint whistle of her wheels turning as she exits the room. I exhale sharply as she leaves and then I bend my head further towards my pillow. I want to scream.
I bite the pillow instead.
I want to cry.
I don't.
I won't.
I close my eyes.
And I fade.
This is hell.
"You're up," Barbara Gordon said, turning towards the kitchen door. She wore an overly large smile on her face, one that didn't quite meet her eyes.
One that faded the moment she saw Helena leaning against the wall with a bag over her shoulder.
"I'm up," Helena agreed. "And I'm out."
"Back to your apartment?" Barbara asked, trying to play dumb. "Are you sure you feel well..."
"Let's not do this okay?" Helena asked, impatience in her tone. "We both know what's going on here."
"Helena, don't."
The brunette offered her mentor a small smile. "I'm done here. I'm just done. I can't do this anymore. I can't."
"Helena..."
"Look, we both know how this works. I should be in jail right now. I should be on trial. It doesn't matter what was in me. It matters what I am. You can fight it all the way down the line but the truth is, I am a killer. That was me."
"You can't believe that," Barbara insisted.
"I do. And so do you," Helena said simply. "Look, let's make this easy on both of us..."
"That's impossible. You're walking away from us..."
Helena shook her head. "No Barbara, I did that a long time ago. I'm just leaving. I'm just done."
"You call it what you want to but it's still quitting."
Helena turned abruptly, exasperating and fury etched across her face. "Fine then, I'm quitting. I'm fucking quitting. And you know what, maybe that means no one else will die because of me. How is that a bad thing?"
"You're not a killer," Barbara snapped back.
"Yes I am. I've always been it. I've just kept it under control." She stepped closer to her mentor. "Face it, I'm just like every monster we've ever hunted. I'm the same. I keep on this path and one day you'll really have to stop me."
"Helena, I know you. This was forced on..."
"Stop. Just stop it. I'm no one's victim. I killed. I murdered." She held up her hands. "They're red Barbara. They're stained."
"He drugged you," Barbara hissed, feeling as if her stomach was spinning. She could feel how this was getting out of hand. She had known it would be bad but the utter desolation she saw in her young protégé's eyes was far worse than she ever could have imagined.
"Maybe he did but in the end, he just brought me out." She shook her head. "I'm not going to have this fight with you. I could have left in the middle of the night. I probably should have. I'm being selfish. I needed to say goodbye..."
"Don't..."
"Please...I owe you this. You've done everything for me and I've never been anything but a burden. Don't bother protesting because we both know it's true." She took a deep breath. "I'm no longer your concern."
"Helena, don't do this," Barbara pleaded. "This team needs you."
"No it doesn't."
"What about Reese?"
Helena looked down and away. Finally she whispered, "Not that I think it'll matter but tell him I'm sorry." She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears. "Tell him not to come around. I don't want to see him either. This is it Barbara, This is the end of the line."
"I need you..."
"I'm sorry," Helena replied dully, not able to meet her mentor's eyes. "I'm so sorry."
Barbara opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. She knew at that moment that she could have spent the next ten hours arguing with Helena and the result would still have been the same.
Helena Kyle was leaving.
The Huntress was dead.
"If you need..."
Helena held up a hand. "Don't worry about me. Just don't. I promise I won't make you come after me. I won't disappoint you more than I have. At least I'll try."
She turned hard on her heel, the bag swinging against her good shoulder. Her other arm was still in a sling but she wasn't paying it much attention.
"Helena," Barbara called after her.
The brunette kept walking, her gait hard and rigid. She hit the button for the elevator with her fist. It opened a few seconds later and she stepped into it. She didn't turn back to face Barbara.
The doors slid shut with a final click and the lift began to whirl as it descended.
Barbara dropped her head to her lap, hands over her face.
"Don't leave," she finished, her voice wracked by sobs.
And from behind her Alfred just watched, his stomach in knots.
Everything was broken now.
Just broken.
-FIN
NOTE: There are two more stories in this series. The next to come is Lose Yourself. Look for that to be posted shortly. It is already completed.