To believe it's all been worth the fight
Lies, don't wanna know, don't wanna know
They let her smoke, thank god, thank whoever the fuck because maybe there was no God. Especially when your own father sees fit to pump toxins into your bloodstream over and over. She had track marks and bruises all up her arms, an addiction to adrenaline, to the serum, to nicotine. But, hey let her smoke and it was almost worth it.
Her teammates are all blank eyes and expressionless features, little more than lifeless dolls—no, more than that, they are obedient. They see no reason to run, she thinks, she starting to feel the same way, her hand trembles just slightly.
This has been her life for too long.
Rose thinks Eddie is crying, smoke curls from his mouth, his hands tightly wrapped around himself.
Tara doesn't look up and neither does her brother.
It's back to the pods soon.
The door is slammed open and they all collectively jump, she looks and it's Roy Harper standing before them, his eyes clear and fierce.
Her lip curls, he's about to do something stupid, she's sure- idiot, side kick, tough shit kid we're all trapped and slaving and killing for them until we die.
"We have to go." he's saying, they all blink stupidly up at him, still in a drugged haze.
"Wha-?' Tara starts to slur, Roy looks at Rose for help—he knows, she's been fighting, knows—she just hopes he has a plan.
He's still an insufferable idiot and maybe she's even stupider for finding some hope in his presence but—just today…
"We're going," she grabs Eddie's arm, jostles him up, "Now!" the others struggle to obey and fall behind her.
They take off running, halls twist and turn, growls echo behind her, someone fires off a shot and they are all desperate and unleashed and suddenly a heat trembles inside of her before bursting forth. A pleasing image of ripping her father's head off with her bares hands and luxuriating in his blood, maybe kissing Eddie maybe that Miss Martian chick while still covered in gore.
Roy's as efficient as ever, though they all behave as animals do when cornered, ready to gnaw off their own limbs to escape and he's struck—a vicious blow, blood flowing freely, yet he's still moving.
Awareness is rushing back to them all, this was planned, they had help, and the handlers had always been so careful, but here, they've got them vulnerable.
It's a rush of death and flesh being torn—but the euphoria lasts only so long until she realizes that their holders have begun to regroup.
It's when Roy meets her eyes, she thinks she sees something like agony reflected in those blue depths. She can hear the urging of Dubbilex—they must go now—but the mercenaries are closing in on them…there…has to be a sacrifice.
Rose Wilson feels a shock down to her core, a memory of her father, telling her that pawns meant nothing, and they were to be tossed aside and she should not cry when they fell. She thinks she might have wept had she not been broken past the point of sorrow.
Tara and her brother have managed to open up the passage, but they will need a guide, she will need to protect them—Eddie warm by her side, he's about to call for Roy to hurry, but she silences him, grasping his hand hard.
A nod is passed between them, "Run, keep moving, keep them safe." He says, and then, Roy's running to intercept the collection of assassins, determination in his stride—and no—not Roy that leaves them to protect and save those in need, but Speedy. Speedy, the hero, will have his last stand here. They are running, getting as much distance as they can until they reach the safe point far from the clutches of the Light and their allies.
Rose makes the decision there, when it is safe for them again, when the damn League has pulled their heads out of their collective asses, she will not let them forget Roy Harper, a brave boy with more courage than all of them combined.
She knows if her survives he will not be the same person, she knows what happens once one has reached their breaking point when they have been ripped apart—made a shell—he will be called a monster then, someone worthy of scorn by those who had not lived through the same ordeal, he will be mocked and scolded for night terrors, for being irrational, for his triggers, and paranoia…
If she ever sees him again, she will be the person she needed—needs now…
Until then, they run deeper into the shadows.