DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.

Warm, slender fingers grasped her hand gently, spreading her fingers wide, the callused palm coming clear in view, and Cynthia blinked, startled as she sat on the kitchen stool, a fingertip pressing against the inner rough skin of her hand.

"What's up with the scar?" Bart inquired curiously, idly examining the bizarre black scar slicing the half of her palm.

Jaw clenching, Cynthia jerked her hand out of his grip, shooting him a frosty glare while Bart grinned impishly, swinging his legs as he sat right beside her on the swiveling kitchen stools, drumming his fingers on the sleek counter, his green eyes sparkling with mild interest. He reached towards the plate set before her, picking out an apple slice before he brought it near his lips, biting into it.

Cynthia scowled deeply, her eyes darkening when he decided to take another one of her apple slices and she swatted his hand away with a frown. The speedster yelped, clutching his abused hand with his free one, settling her with an unamused look as she rolled her eyes, biting into a slice thoughtfully.

"Are you and Blue Beetle together?"

Sharp green eyes blinked, adjusting to the question and Cynthia paused in her chewing, finding herself staring quizzically at Bart, the brunet resting his cheek on his palm, watching her with this unreadable emotion flickering through his eyes as he fixed her with a flat stare. The apple slice in her hand squished as she curled her fingers around the fruit forcefully, feeling anger rising up in her again.

"Did you hear that from Beast Boy?" She inquired calmly.

His eyes darted between the crushed slice in her hand, then back to her scowling features and Bart grinned. "I'll take that as a no." He laughed, avoiding her question when he swiped another apple slice, plopping it in his mouth quickly.

"Logan is so going to pay for these rumors," Cynthia muttered, pushing her plate towards Bart who smiled broadly, accepting the fruit as he picked another slice, eating it away in mere seconds. The redheaded girl beside him placed her elbows on the cool counter, dropping her chin on top of her knuckles as she eyed him closely.

"Am I dead in the future?"

Bart halted, the slice half way between his teeth as he turned towards the girl seated beside him. Mossy green eyes clashed with hard emeralds, and he offered a coy smirk. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to bribe me with food so I can give you juicy infos, huh?" He motioned at the plate before him as he sank his teeth into the apple slice.

"Welsh, it'sh not going to workh." He stated through a mouthful, then swallowed. "No spoilers, remember?"

Cynthia released a snort, lacing her fingers together while the sword of Beowulf lay against her leg. "Right, no spoilers." She agreed, her gaze fixed on him like a predator. "But you didn't know what my name was, or who even I am so that has to mean that I'm dead in the future."

"Not necessarily," Bart bounced his shoulders nonchalantly, "you might've changed alias or have retired in my era." He smiled, pointing a slice her way. "You've got nothing to worry abou—"

"Mystica, Impulse. Head to the training room right now." Nightwing's voice burst through the air, echoing off the cave walls and Cynthia sat where she was, intrigued as Bart shoved the last fruit piece into his mouth, hopping off the kitchen stool.

"Aw-wight!" He cheered excitedly, fist bumping the air. "Training time!" He turned to her with a boyish grin, green eyes glimmering. "Come on, Cyn. Let's go!"

"Don't call me that."

She scowled as he was off within a second, zipping down the hallway and leaving a gust of wind in his awake. Growling, she tugged back the strands of fiery red hair behind her ears, sitting there silently for a few seconds as she waited, a smirk curling the ends of her lips upwards as there was a sudden blur, another cool breeze brushing past her, causing her hair to whip back as Bart halted before her, standing across the counter.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "uh, where are the changing rooms?"

With an arrogant huff, Cynthia jabbed a finger at her right, Bart's gaze following the opposite hallway she was pointing towards and he smiled goofily. "Thanks, Cyn!"

And he was off again, Cynthia brushing away loose windswept tresses away from her eyes as she rounded the corner of the counter, trailing after the speedster with clear amusement across her features.

Jaime paused, slightly taken aback as a reddish white blur halted before him, Impulse's green eyes brightening as he held an arm out. "He-ey, Blue! I can call you Blue, right? Anyway, nice to meet you. I'm Impulse. But you can call me Bart, or Bart Allen, or Bart-Impulse-Allen, it's all crash!"

The hispanic teen stared, albeit a bit dumbfounded by the enthusiastic introduction as he clasped his hand with the shorter boy's, offering a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you too, hermano." He gave a friendly smile, then scowled. "What? No! He's not a threat. Stop pulling up data!"

Brows knitting together in puzzlement, Impulse cocked his head slightly as the taller teen continued arguing with himself. "...does he do that often?" He inquired from the girl beside him, and Mystica snorted in response. "You'll get used to it." She assured, raising a brow upon catching coffee brown eyes peering down at her from behind the speedster's head.

Soft brown eyes met sharp green irises, and Jaime smiled gently, sliding his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "Hey, Cynthia."

Impulse blinked, taking a step back, observing how Mystica gave a curt nod as a greeting, before she froze as there was an unexpected presence behind her. She whirled around, hands balling into fists by her sides as Robin arched a brow, domino mask in place and arms crossed along his chest when Wonder Girl appeared beside him, blue eyes bright and glimmering like sapphires.

"Hi, guys!" She greeted gleefully, waving her hand in excitement. "I can't wait to see what new moves we're gonna learn today." She squealed, then stared as Mystica fixed her with a heated glare. As the redhead looked away angrily, the Amazon pursed her lips, concern in her voice. "Cynthia, is everything alrig—"

A green skinned monkey landed before them all, letting out a loud screech before the animal morphed into a young boy, Beast Boy shooting the elder teens one of his big, toothy grins as he literally bounced on the balls of his feet. "Haha, scared you guys, didn't I?" He laughed joyfully, small chest puffed out with pride.

"Not really," Robin commented with a one shoulder shrug while Impulse grinned, none of them noticing how Jaime took a precautionary step back, a four barreled plasma canon hidden behind his back. "Nice one, BB."

Beast Boy beamed happily, before a hand dug into the front of his shirt and he froze, staring owlishly as he was yanked up slightly, furious green orbs glowering down at him. "Why are you going around spreading false rumors about me..." Mystica demanded, pulling the changeling closer until their noses touched, her eyes darkening as she pointed a finger at Jaime. "And him!"

The second Blue Beetle raised his brows, perplexed while Beast Boy found himself shrinking under the frosty glare fixed on him. He swallowed, parting his lips to deny all accusations when another voice piped up, firm and slightly threatening.

"Touch a single hair on his head, and you're going to be in a lot of trouble, Mystica."

Stony emerald eyes peered upwards, clashing with silver irises and Mystica scowled, shooting Beast Boy a menacing look as she released his collars, falling back in line with her other teammates. Death nodded, glancing at the green skinned boy who muttered a half hearted apology under his breath, awkwardly shuffling towards Blue Beetle's side.

Shrugging off her black jacket, Death's gaze settled on the younger teens. "As you all know that Black Canary is a bit too busy these days, I'm your new training teacher." She informed, tossing the leather clothing away, revealing surprisingly smooth, creamy bare arms.

With a small click of her heel, the floor brightened with an enormous, round circle, focusing on the centre of the room as she stood in the mid, tightening her black locks into a pony tail. "The main purpose of learning combat is to defend yourselves and the people around you," she said solemnly, tugging the bandanna on her face down to her neck. "But the most important things is to keep yourself alive."

Robin swallowed unintentionally, focusing his gaze on the lit up floor when a knowing look was sent his way. Beast Boy's shoulders slumped, tongue trapped between his teeth as Death tore her gaze away from Batman's protégé, staring down at the emerald skinned boy while she continued.

"Always make sure," she set her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at them. "That you make it out alive after every battle."

A second of silence ticked by, and Death felt her lips curl into a cocky smirk as she pounded a fist in her palm. "So," she grinned wickedly, steely eyes gleaming as she dropped the sudden tension in the room. Cracking her knuckles, she added. "Who's ready to get their butt kicked by me first?"

A loud crunch answered, and all eyes snapped towards Impulse, the speedster oblivious to the number of annoyed looks directed at him as he held a packet of chicken whizees in his hand. "Wow," he whistled, biting off the greasy treat he had just ran back in with. "Thish ish sho cwash."

Jaime found himself staring at the familiar packet. "Did you take that from my locker?" He inquired incredulously.

Impulse swallowed the food in his mouth, turning to offer the boy an apologetic smile when the packet was snatched away from him and he set Mystica with a surprised look.

"Hey, I wasn't done with that!"

The redheaded girl simply rolled her eyes, pressing her hand flat against his lean back. "Come on, Allen." she smirked, shoving him forward. "Show us some of those future boy moves."

Stumbling ahead, Impulse steadied himself, peeking up through tufts of brown hair when Death awarded him with a brilliant smile, hands on her hips. "Great to see you enthusiastic for this, Bart." She praised, eying him. "Now show me what you got."

The speedster stared, then shrugged, swinging a fist forward. His forearm was pushed aside, and Death jabbed a foot into his stomach, his teammates wincing as he tumbled backwards, landing onto the floor with an ungraceful oof. The computer announced his failure in brightly lighted words, Impulse releasing a loud groan as he got on all fours.

"I am so feelin' the mode right now." He muttered, shaking his head whilst Death focused her attention on the other teenagers, fists propped on her hips. "Can anyone tell what he did wrong?"

"He wasn't concentrating at all. His elbow should've been more higher and he left his mid section unprotected." Robin answered smoothly, Mystica scowling beside him.

Death gave a firm nod. "That's absolutely correct," she grinned broadly, then added in with a wink, "Ten points to Gryffindor."

The current boy wonder flashed her a bright smile, blue eyes brightening behind his domino mask when he blinked, giving a wary glance to Mystica who made a scoffing sound, arms folded over her chest.

Tilting her head to the side, Death fixed her protégé with an amused look. "Mystica, quit sulking and get your butt here."

The redhead's gaze hardened as she obliged, moving to stand near her mentor. Green eyes peered up to gray ones, and Mystica released a battle cry, boosting on the front of her combat boots as she shot out a fist in an upper cut. Death shifted sideways, clasping a firm hand around the shorter teen's wrist before she pivoted on her heel, sending her protégé hurling forward. A hiss left Mystica's mouth as she crashed into Impulse, both of them sliding across the floor as the cave's computer announced their failure loudly.

With a satisfied look their way, Death shifted her gaze back at her temporary students in line. "Now, who's going to tell me what she did wrong?"

Hands clamped around her arms, Mystica growled as Impulse helped her up on her feet, green eyes soft as he looked over her. "You okay, Cyn?"

Her teeth gritted together, rage bubbling inside her as she pushed a hand at his chest, the speedster stumbling back in surprise as she hissed out, lunging at her mentor once more, knuckles white and face hot with fury. But Death swiftly stepped back, dodging the sudden attack and brought down a roundhouse kick against the girl's back that had her slamming into the floor yet again.

"Mystica. Status: Fail."

The words floated in the air, accompanied by the redheaded teen's painful groans as she lay on her stomach, face pressed against the cool floor. Completely unfazed, Death clapped her hands, catching everyone's attention. "Can you tell me again what she did wrong, Robin?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably in his spot, unsure whether to speak or not when Beast Boy quipped. "You shouldn't mess with someone who's been trained by Sportsmaster and Black Canary?"

"That's a good answer too, Gar." Death chuckled warmly, then smirked, silver eyes sparkling with mischief as she took a step back, settling them with a sly look. "All of you; one by one, come at me, 'kay? And remember no super powers."

"Woah. Got room for one more student?"

Her throat went dry, slackened muscles tensing as she shifted, once warm silver eyes sharpening into cold steel, clashing with pure white lenses as Nightwing grinned broadly, shuffling beside her while the younger teens looked up at him expectantly. The former boy wonder tilted his head slightly, lips tugged upwards as he set his hands on his hips. "Mind if I join the party too?"

"Why aren't you on monitor duty?" Death asked coolly, stepping back when he rubbed the back of his neck. "Mal's got that covered." He responded easily, settling in with a coy smirk as he fully turned to her. "Ready to pick on someone your own size?"

"Nightwing." There was a notable pressure in her tone as she said his name. "This is not for you—"

"Oooh, I can't wait to see you two spar!" Wonder Girl squealed from her spot, ocean blue eyes bright and glittering as she clasped her hands together while Robin looked slightly uneasy. Mystica took her previous place, glaring visual daggers in her mentor's direction while Impulse rubbed his back, green eyes darting between the elder teens quickly.

Jaime simply shrugged, Beast Boy nervously flicking his tail behind him.

Nightwing shot the amazon a charming smile, the blonde flushing slightly when he blinked as Death released a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "...fine." She glanced over them all. "Guess it'll be a good observation for you guys."

"Yeah, so watch closely." Nightwing patted Beast Boy's head before making his way round the room and onto the opposite side, a smirk firmly plastered on his face as he rolled his shoulders. "I'm going to sweep your makeshift teacher's feet right off the floor."

Gray eyes narrowed at him, darkening for a spilt second when Death bolted forward, tight fist careening through the air as he ducked beneath it with great ease. She twisted around, crouching near the floor and swinging a leg at his feet. But he bounded off the floor, arms shooting outwards and balanced himself gracefully on his palms, then propelled back on his feet. His brows furrowed ever so slightly as another fist was swung his way, yet he stepped away, blocking a roundhouse kick with his forearms.

"That all you got?"

"I'm just getting started!"

Robin's lips quirked downwards, worry coloring his pale features. "Shouldn't we stop them—" he paused as Mystica held her arm out, blocking him from moving forward as she shook her head, glimmering green irises focused on Nightwing who ducked and dodged her mentor's unabated assaults. "Don't." She smirked. 'This just got interesting."

Adrenaline was gradually beginning to pump through her veins, eyes narrowed into slits as Death lifted her chin up, then charged forward, shooting out with another fist, hitting nothing but air as Nightwing shifted gracefully, suddenly behind her, both of his larger hands clamping down onto her forearms firmly, pushing her raised fists down with a jerk.

Rage bubbled up as she attempted to break free, but he moved closer, hot breath ghosting over her ear. "Got you just where I wanted."

Her jaw clenched as she scowled down at the floor, goosebumps scattering over her skin as memories flooded her mind; a meek, shaking voice piping up in her ears.

I don't wanna die.

Lips pulled back into a snarl, and she pressed her back against his broad chest, jabbing her elbow forcefully into his ribs. He winced, hold loosening and she jerked her arms out, whirling around to deliver a sucker punch but a weight came barreling forward that had her toppling backwards, until she found her back pressed flat against the cool, tiled floor. Her wrists were pinned near either sides of her head, silver eyes peering upwards, wide as Nightwing smiled brightly down at her, straddling her hips as he tilted his head to the side, deep blue hues shining beneath his mask victoriously.

"Death. Status: Fail."

"And that," he grinned, craning his neck to nod at the small audience. "Is how you take your opponent down." He shifted off her, panting slightly as he got to his feet, offering a hand along with a small smile.

Steely eyes looked up at him, hardening and with sweat on her brow, Death pushed herself up, ignoring the hand her way as she dusted off her clothes, muttering curses in her mother tongue.

A scowl gracing his features, Nightwing brushed his gloved fingers against her elbow. "Hey, sorry if I came in uninvite—"

"Come on, Mystica." The dark haired woman interjected, stooping down to pick up her discarded jacket as she made her way over to her protégé, the redheaded girl frowning slightly as a hand clasped around her wrist, dragging her towards the exit of the training room. "Mal called. We're going on a mission."

"But I didn't hear anything in my com—"

"Now, Mystica."

The two left, their footsteps fading into the distance slightly before Nightwing released a heavy sigh, the ends of his mouth curled downwards as he glanced at the teenagers in the room. "Class dismissed." He muttered, the glowing circle around the floor dying out as he headed towards the main room. With a swish of his cape, Robin was trailing behind him swiftly.

Wonder Girl stood, blinking in confusion. "Is there something I missed here?" She mused, perplexed while Beast Boy shrugged nonchalantly.

Impulse's gaze instantly found Jaime, but he lifted an eyebrow. "Hey, hermano. Why are you blushing?"

"I just wish I couldn't understand Italian swear words," Jaime grumbled, dragging a hand down his flushed face while mentally cursing the scarab's translation.

Dark clouds massed in the night sky, the pale moon sailing through them as it casted long, faint steaks across the harbour. Lamps showering dim white light lined across the small road, an enormous dark truck pausing nearby, men slowly grouping around, hustling and bustling with hushed whispers as they communicated silently, not wanting to draw much attention to themselves.

And at a distance, on top of enormous crates, Mystica glanced sideways, hidden away in the shadows while her mentor held binoculars, observing the number of heads below closely.

"You never told me why'd you two break up, though."

"You never asked," responded the taller teen, clicking the binoculars and switching to infrared. "There were just too many arguments between us so we called it quits."

"Really?" Mystica mused, legs folded beneath her, gazing at her curiously. "That's now what I heard. Wasn't it because of Vixen's niece?—Lola, right? She got shot in a missio—"

"Children," Death interrupted, dropping the binoculars as she kept gazing down at the truck. "I saw nine heat signatures in there. They're trafficking children."

Silence descended in the air, Mystica's eyes widening as she stared down as well, nails biting into her palms as a multitude of emotions swam in her mind, her muscles tightening as she inhaled deeply. Her brows creasing, Death touched the little device in her ear. "They've got jammers. I can't contact—"

Within seconds Mystica had lunged downwards, pushing herself off the crates and into the limelight as her boots collided onto a man's head, hurling him forward. Panicked shouts rang in the air, and she turned, kicking out and sending another goon hitting the floor. Her heart thudded wildly inside her ribcage, eyes promising sheer murder as she slung a fist, a satisfied crack of a goon's jaw filling her ears.

"You people make me sick!" She snarled, elbow knocking into someone's stomach.

The corners of her lips tugged downwards distastefully, Death appeared before the truck, sliding her tongue across her bottom lip. "Nepo siht won!"

She backed away as the truck's back door flew open, wide, panicked gazes greeting her; children, not more than nine or ten, cowering in the corners. Three girls and four boys, clutching onto each other for life as they trembled, watching her with frightened eyes.

A spurt of anger licked her nerves, yet she smiled softly beneath the bandanna, arms stretching wide as Mystica continued her merciless assault on the goons in the background. "Hey," Death reached outwards, "it's going to be oka—"

"Turn around. Slowly."

The deep, cold voice echoed in her ears, and Death inhaled sharply, mentally prepping defence spells as she shifted gradually, stomach twisting with uneasiness as she caught sight of her protégé, held by the back of her collars by a tall, lean man, his face hidden away by a cowl.

Blood trickled down Mystica's temple, her unconscious form forcibly hauled on her feet as the man behind her scowled deeply, starting off again. "You better step away from our cargo, lady." He commanded coolly, Death's heart plummeting to her feet when the cold nozzle of a gun was pressed against the younger teen's head.

"Or your little comrade here might have her brains all over the floor."

Death swallowed, arms moving upwards, gloved palms opening wide to ensure she wasn't armed. "Let her go."

Her eyes searched around, counting at least twenty men on all sides, most of them carrying guns and ready to fire, while some held onto sharp blades. The weapons weren't much of a threat, for a simple spell could take care of them all, but how Cynthia was injured—the sharp cut on her temple was not helping much— and skinny children stood terrified behind her, the only conclusion Death found herself on was that she couldn't take them all down. Not now at least, not with so many hostages.

Damn it all.

"All right," she lifted her chin up, locking gazes with their designated leader. "How 'bout we make a deal? Instead of all these kids and her," she gestured towards her protégé with a slight tilt of her head, "you can just take me."

Hushed whispers rose, the men moving in close but not losing their stances as they muttered to each other as she stood still, back rigid and shoulders squared when the leader gave a firm nod.

Cold, steely gray hues watched how the children were ushered out of the truck quickly, a man moving near to stand before her, holding something out of a tattered duffle bag and Death's blood stilled, mouth growing dry as an inhibitor collar was snapped around her neck, the cool metal pressing against her skin.

The screams and thrashes of her mother replayed in the back of her mind, and she forced down a chill in a weak attempt to control her phobia of the metallic collar around her throat as someone shoved her forward roughly, the cloaked man pushing Mystica aside. As her unconscious form hit the concrete, Death climbed inside the truck, catching the slight glimpse of her protégé's sword being detached from her back before the doors hissed shut, locks intact.

Her muscles tensed and shoulders taut, Death crouched down on the floor, gaze drifting around the now empty truck as she leaned back.

"This was such a stupid idea," she grumbled under her breath, jaw tightening as tonight's events in the cave flashed in her mind.

Her hands settled on her lap, remembering Mystica's questioning from before and her fingers curled as the clear, vivid image of Vixen's niece flashed before her eyes; loose, curly brown locks, golden eyes bright and blood— crimson colored blood soaking her costume, mouth parted and breaths fading slowly.

I don't wanna die.

A shuddering breath left her, air somewhere stuck between her lungs as the memories came flooding back, fresh and numb.

Voices echoed, so familiar and heart wrenching that she felt her eyelids fall shut, refusing the sudden onslaught of tears to start as she focused on the feeling of the truck moving forward. She pressed a finger against her communicator again, static buzzing in her ear and her shoulders slumped, gaze falling on her hands as she balled them into fists.

"Just wait 'till I get out." She growled, absent mindedly running a hand along the inhibitor collar and she blinked once, then twice as patches of burnt skin appeared along her bare fingers. She stared flatly, then sighed wistfully.

With a slight tug, her jacket was off, gray eyes inspecting how creamy arms suddenly held old scars, some long and a few short, made with blades, whips, and all those hardships she'd encountered when she had lived with her father. A hand moved upwards to feel her face, touching her crooked nose and Death scowled deeply, remembering the first time Dick had broken it after their second encounter when he was Robin.

Realization colored silver eyes as she leaned backwards, resting her head against the wall, her magic being devoured by the inhibitor collar snapped around her neck, revealing the scars and bruises on her skin that she had forever hid from everyone around her for as long as she could remember.

Illusion spells were her favorite. They hid the truth, and showed people what they wanted to see, allowed them to bask in pretty lies and turn away from the ugly truth. She wasn't any different from anyone. Hide the pain, hide the truth. Don't let it show, and yet the pain was slipping through the cracks, the collar continuing to drain, crumbling the mystical façade she had taken so long to build around her.