Sorry for the late update. We finally got wifi back on Friday, but I have just really not been wanting to write. I had a lot of trouble getting through this chapter, so if there are plot holes or the writing isn't that good, I'm sorry. Anyway, hope you like it, please review!
Some time later, they were standing at the gates of a mansion that embodied the very essence of a haunted house. Which, Mallory, reasoned, it technically was.
"I should have known that this old bat had it," John muttered, flicking away the butt of his cigarette.
"You know her?" Mallory asked. She'd caught her stride since the bar and she was curious about the environment and how things worked.
John shrugged. "I've had a few run-ins with her." They were at the door now, and he glanced at her. "You might want to wait out here, luv. These parties can get a little…unpleasant."
She hesitated, then walked past him and threw open the door. "Ok, then," she heard him say as the doors swung open, revealing a party in full motion. Nothing stopped inside, no one even looked up at the dramatic entrance, and John didn't seem to be surprised. He just scanned the room, not focusing on anything in particular.
"There she is," he said, nodding to an old woman at the other end of the room.
"She doesn't look so bad," Mallory mentioned.
John snorted. "Remember where you are, dearie. That's not her true form. She's a demon in granny's skin. Well, let's go."
He cut through the creatures dancing without looking at any of them, so Mallory followed his lead, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the back of his head and not the terrifying people/demons/creatures that were surrounding her.
"Well, John, you must be truly desperate to come to me. What do you need?" the woman asked without turning around.
John sighed loudly. "Enough, Mali. You knew we were coming before we did. You know what I'm here for, so let's just get on with it."
The woman turned around slowly. She had a bright smile on her face, and it took Mallory a few seconds to realize that the reason her face looked so unsettling was her eyes. For as welcoming as her smile was, her eyes were glaring and full of hatred and evil amusement. She was glad for her mask so she didn't have to look at the woman directly. She got the sense that something bad would happen if she did.
"Fine," Mali said sweetly. Mallory narrowed her eyes, waiting for the catch.
"And what do you want in exchange?" John asked, looking around the room boredly.
Mali's smile widened, and the dark amusement in her eyes deepened. "Oh, not a thing, Johnny. It's on me." John eyed her, then shrugged. "You'll find what you're looking for in here," the woman said, gesturing to a door to her left.
John started walking without hesitation. Mallory just stared at him in shock until Mali put a hand on her shoulder. Her touch felt like nails and sandpaper brushing her arm, and she cringed away from it.
"Aren't you going to join him, dear?"
"Oh, right," Mallory muttered, avoiding the piercing gaze as she hurried to catch up to her partner. He was just opening the door, showing a steep staircase leading into total darkness.
"Well, after you, then," he said, stepping to the side so she could go ahead of him.
She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
He shrugged. "Why are you here, if not to be the torch?"
She narrowed her eyes at the word, but she lit a fire in her hand, lighting her eyes as an extra measure, and started down the steps, John at her heels.
"Have fu-un!" Mali sang into the darkness, her voice dripping with malicious intent, and the door slammed shut behind them, a bolt sliding into place for a good measure. It wasn't a surprise, but Mallory's stomach still dropped.
"So, we knew this was going to be a trap," she said as they continued their descent.
"Obviously," John replied, still sounding bored.
"Right. But you still thought it was a good idea to take the bait, even though the book probably isn't even down here," she continued, her voice matter of fact.
"Oh, Mali's a lot of things, luv, but she's not a liar. No, that book's down here, all right. All we need to do is get it."
Mallory sighed, sending a fireball down ahead of them to test how much further the staircase went. The darkness swallowed it up before it hit anything.
"You can't fly, can you?" she asked.
"Nope, sorry," he replied.
She sighed again. "Great. Well, let's pick up the pace a little. We've got a long way to go."
At the bottom of the stairs, Mallory lit her fire a little more. The light reflected on something at the other end of the room.
"There it is," she said in disbelief, taking a step towards the book sitting in the glass case. It looked like it was made of gold, and it was as big as her psychology textbooks.
John's hand caught her arm, stopping her from going further. "We're not alone." he told her.
It was the first time she'd ever heard anything close to dread in his voice, and it raised the hairs on the back of her neck as she went on alert, scanning the room. She didn't see anything, but then…she raised the fire, using both of her hands to contain the bonfire she was now holding, then she shot it out over the room. It piled up in pillars and she kept them going, lighting the room. It was empty. She looked at John, but he was looking up, fury and…was that fear on his face? She followed his gaze to the ceiling several stories above, and she could just barely make out a creature sitting in the rafters. It had wings and a tail and a hideous grin that showed off the fangs filling its mouth.
"John," she murmured, trying to control her breathing, "what's that?"
He didn't answer, and she narrowed her eyes and studied the thing as it stood and stretched its wings. John jumped when it swooped down suddenly, flying so low they had to duck, then landing between them and the book.
"Oh, you didn't think I would make it easy for you, did you, Johnny?" Mali's voice echoed through the room. Mallory looked around, trying to get a sense of where it was coming from while still keeping an eye on the monster that was slithering closer, but John just stood there, every muscle in his body tense and his eyes wide as he stared at the demon. She opened her mouth to say something, but the thing lunged forward and grabbed her by the throat, its mouth opening around her head.
Adrenaline rushed through her body and she breathed fire down its throat. It backed up a little, choking, and she took the opportunity to slam her feet into its chest. Its grip loosened a little, enough for her to twist her body around and grab its neck with her legs. She shifted her weight and brought them to the ground, rolling away as soon as she felt the fingers loosen. She was on the side with the book now, with the demon in between John and her. Her partner was still just standing and staring. She threw a fireball at the ground in front of him, and when he looked up at the sparks that flew up, she yelled, "a little help here!?"
"Oh, right," he muttered, and he started chanting something, moving his hands in a circle. She darted over to the case. There was no door to it, and she could hear John losing behind her. She winced and summoned her strength, and she brought her elbow down on the top. The glass shattered and she grabbed the book without looking at it. John collided with her as soon as she turned around, and she hit the shattered case painfully, a piece of glass slitting her cheek. She pressed her palm to it to try to stop the bleeding, looking down at the heap of trench coat and magician that was on her lap. "John?" He muttered something and tried to push himself to his feet, then collapsed back down. "Great," she muttered, shoving him off.
She dropped the book beside him and looked back at the demon coming towards her. She racked her brains for an attack plan that she could do by herself, but it didn't give her the time to come up with one. It sped towards her, and all she could do was react. She dove out of the way, only realizing after she was out of danger that she'd left John behind. He tried to put up a shield, but the demon tore through it without much difficulty and was reaching for him. She scanned the room frantically. It was too cramped. There wasn't enough room, no matter where she went she would always be a few steps away from it. She looked at the staircase, and she was moving as soon as her mind put the thought together. She needed to bring this fight out into the open.
She flew right over John's head and grabbed him in one arm and the book in the other, getting them to safety just before the demon's fingers closed around his throat. She flamed up, keeping her flames as much to herself as she could, and shot up the staircase.
"Sorry, John," she said when he tried to loosen her grip on his chest, "but like you said, you can't fly."
He grunted but didn't say anything. She could hear the flap of monstrous wings behind her, and she doubled the flames propelling them forward. She could see the door up ahead now. She remembered the lock sliding into place and shoved the book into John's hands. "Duck," she told him, then she put up an arm, tapped into her strength, and crashed through the door.
They tumbled through in a shower of splinters, rolling on top of each other a few times before they stopped. The crowd still didn't stop their party, and they only earned a few glances. Mali was nowhere to be seen. The demon was through the doorway before Mallory could make sure John was all right, and she got to her feet slowly, narrowing her eyes as she prepared for the fight.
The sickening grin was still on its face. It slithered at her, and she flamed up and shot to the ceiling, flipping around in the air and slamming her shoulder into the demon's back. It only slid a few feet to the side, and she winced as she hovered there. That was the best she had, and it barely phased it.
She scanned the crowd for John, but he was nowhere to be seen. She did see the book, however. Two elf-looking creatures were examining it on the floor. She grunted and turned her attention back to her opponent, who was spreading his wings. She remembered her fight with Blyth and decided to try for the pressure point between the wings. It was worth a shot, anyway.
It came at her, and this time, she dove, coming up behind it and slamming her connected fists down right between the base of the wings. Nothing happened, and she froze with dread. She was out of moves, and the fight had just started.
The creature grabbed her arm and threw her down. Her fall was broken by a group of creatures dancing, and she took back to the air, ignoring their complaints, curses, and threats. She shot her fire at the demon, trying to keep it off balance, then she flew straight at it, punching the face, stomach, anything she could get to. It grabbed her hair when she tried to get away, bringing her up to eye level. She tried to swing her legs up to kick it, but it grabbed both of her legs with its other hand, and for a moment, it just held her there, staring at her, the grin stuck on its face.
"What do they call you?"
Its voice was screechy, like nails on a chalkboard. She glared at it, forcing fire to come out of her eyes in the hopes that it would make her seem tougher. "What do they call you?" she spat. It started to pull her, her hair up and her legs down. She winced when it felt like her hair was about to come out by the roots. "Inferno! I'm called Inferno."
"Fitting. It is like you belong here. But you are so very naive about what it means to be in the Pit."
"I think I know enough," she said, trying to find something on her suit that would be sharp enough to slice through her hair.
"You know nothing," the thing hissed, leaning in close. It took hold of her torso, keeping her arms pinned to her sides, and pointed a razor-edged finger at her chest. "How could you, with the protection spell your protector put on you. But he's not here anymore, is he? He's failed yet another mortal girl." It touched her chest, right over her heart, and the point of its nail dug into her skin. "But you will know. Oh, you'll know everything before I get through with you."
The puncture stung for the first second, but when a drop of blood came out, she felt something else, something devastating. It only lasted for a second, ending when the demon pulled back its finger, but that split second had her gasping for breath, tears and screams clawing their way out of her. The demon's eyes brightened as he watched the effect slowly wear off.
"Yes, you will know everything," it said, more to itself. It reached for her again, all of its fingers poised to rip into her, and she panicked. She let off a pulse of fire and energy, forcing its hand open, and before it could recover its flight, she shoved it into a pack of large creatures on the dance floor below. She watched as the demon slashed at them, irritated, and the group turned on it.
She only watched long enough to be satisfied that this new fight would keep her opponent occupied, then she swooped down and grabbed the book away from the elves, who were playing tug-of-war with it, trying to steal it from each other. She flew out the doors and past the gates and back into the city. She needed to find John, and fast.
She saw his back through the window of the bar before she opened the door. He didn't turn around at the jingle of the bell or the sound of her footsteps thudding on the burnt-wood floors. She dropped the book down on the counter next to him and he barely glanced at it before draining his glass.
"So, you survived, then," he said dully.
"No thanks to you," she said matter-of-factly.
He motioned for a refill and the girl behind the counter obliged. "Look, if you're here to lecture me, you can just–"
"I'm not here for you," she interrupted.
He looked at her for the first time since she walked in. "Then why are you here?"
She sighed and slid onto the stool next to him. "I need a drink."
An amused look came to his face as she ordered her drink. She raised the glass slightly in a toast. "Here's to quitting quitting," she said, and she tipped the glass back. The liquid burned worse than anything she'd ever drank, but she welcomed the pain. It helped to chase away the ghost of agony that had stayed with her after what the demon did.
"How did you do it?" John asked quietly.
"What?"
"Win against the brute," he clarified, not looking at her.
She shrugged. "I shifted the fight, got a group of other demons to take over so I could slip away."
He nodded and took another swig, draining the glass and motioning for another refill. Mallory stared at her own drink, watching the ripples when she moved it. She wanted to ask, but she didn't know how, or if she should.
John tilted his head. "I thought you came in for a drink," he said.
She twisted her mouth to the side, then shoved the glass away and turned to face him. "John, what was that thing?" she asked. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. The conversation with the First of the Fallen popped into her head, and as she connected the dots, her face hardened as she slipped into her limited Bat-training. "Ok, then. Who's the girl?"
He narrowed his eyes. "What girl?" he asked through gritted teeth.
She kept staring at him. "The one you didn't save," she clarified, watching him for signs of recognition, "Astra."
He sagged a little in his seat, and she knew the demon was telling the truth.
"So it's true," she said, softer. She turned back to the front, letting a beat pass. "What happened?"
"You know what happened," he spat.
She sighed. "Look, John, I didn't want to come here, but I'm in it about as deep as a person can be, so if that girl has something to do with that, I need to–"
"She doesn't," he snapped, knocking back another drink.
Mallory narrowed her eyes, studying him, then she sighed and pulled off her mask, tracing the lenses as she collected her thoughts. "Look, you're not the only failure in the world. Sometimes it feels like that's all I'll ever be. But you don't have to live in the past." She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about everything that she'd caused simply by not having the courage to let go. "If you want to talk, well, you probably got trapped in Hell with only hero who might be able to understand, so you might as well give it a shot."
They were quiet for a long time, and Mallory took another sip of her drink, her mind wandering in the lengthening silence.
"She was my first, my greatest, failure."
She almost started when John finally started talking. She looked at him, waiting for the rest. When nothing came, she tried to prompt him. "Who was the demon?" she asked carefully.
He scoffed, hatred on his face. "Nergal. I was a stupid kid, thought I knew everything there was to know about the business. I'd only scratched the surface, though. Astra was being kept by her father's cult, locked away in a cage until they needed something from her, a sacrifice, a bit of blood, or…" he shook his head, cutting himself off, and Mallory decided not to try to finish the sentence for herself. "I was going to be the hero, the one to rescue her from her father. I summoned a demon, Nergal, to take care of things, but I didn't know enough to know to tether him to me so I could control him. All I managed to do was turn a demon loose on a warehouse full of teenagers waiting for a concert. Well, I guess her father was killed, so that was something." He stopped himself again, glaring to the side, and this time she didn't say anything. "And then, he took Astra. Dragged her back to Hell with him, and there wasn't a bloody thing I could do about it. It was my fault. Fancied myself a hero, but, well, I guess we both know that's something I'll never be."
Mallory shook her head, shifting her glass back and forth between her hands. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one," she muttered.
He sighed. "Well, if you have something you want to get off your chest, you might as well."
She smiled at the annoyed way he said it, but as she sat there thinking, she couldn't come up with anything to say. All of the things that had been eating her up for months, they just felt–resolved, somehow. She touched the place where Nergal had punctured her, rubbing the spot absently.
"When I was fighting that demon, after you left," she said slowly, "he…did something to me. I don't know what, but it felt like, I don't know, like every pain I've ever felt, emotional and physical, all attacking me at the same time. It only lasted for a second, but…"
"He punctured the protection spell," John explained.
"What protection spell?"
"I put it on you before we went through the portal. If a mortal came down here without it, that's what they would feel, every second, for however long they stay. You're right, in part. It's every pain you have ever felt up to this point, and also all of the pain you have ever inflicted." He chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "I guess the physical pain would be worse for you hero types, all the punching and kicking you do."
She winced, thinking about all of the pain that had coursed through her for that second. Then she glanced at John, and she sighed. "You're not really a failure," she mentioned. "No one's good at their first mission. I almost got shot the first time I went on a patrol, and I had to call Superman because I didn't have a plan for once I caught the guys."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. You know I've failed at more than that. I can't keep anyone from hating me in the end."
She tilted her head. "Are you talking about Zatanna?" He didn't answer, and she sighed. "She never hated you, John. She broke up with you because she loved you."
He scoffed. "Yeah, I know. Lack of communication wasn't one of the reasons she broke it off."
"You still love her, don't you?" Again, she didn't get an answer. "You can do better, you know. All she wanted was for you to take better care of yourself. I mean, it was right after–"
"Again, she already explained everything. I don't need the rerun lecture from her friends."
"Sorry. I shouldn't really be giving advice, I guess. I throw away every relationship I get in for stupid reasons. I just love Z, she's one of my best friends, and I hate when she gets hurt."
"Yeah, well, you don't have to worry about that. I won't be hurting her anymore. That's why you're here now."
"Why me?" she asked. He had never really answered the question before.
He shrugged. "Who else was I going to go to? I've burned most of the bridges I had in the magic community and I needed someone who would have the ability to fight something like Nergal, without losing their head or trying to reason with it. Besides, you know how to think on your feet, and you don't mind making tough calls. Who else do you know like that?"
Kaldur's name was the first to pop into her head, and she smiled a little. It was nice to think she might have something in common with him, even if she didn't see it herself. She looked at the book and slid it closer to her partner. "Well, you ready to finish this?" she asked.
His lips twitched into a smile. "Yeah, sure, might as well." He collected it and knocked back the rest of his drink. He looked at her glass, barely half of the liquid gone. "You want to finish that?" he asked.
She looked at it, then shook her head, smiling a little. "No, I don't need it. Let's go. I know my lunch hour's over by now, and I doubt my boss will buy the old 'got kidnapped and dragged to Hell' bit."
He nodded, his face completely serious. "Yeah, that's a bit over done, isn't it?"
They chuckled and left the bar, ready to complete their deal with the devil.
By the time they made it up to the 49th floor of the First of the Fallen's building, they were all business. They had their masks back on, their walls up, and their minds in the game. They walked straight into the office and Beastie was behind the desk. John tossed the book onto the desk.
"There's your book, now–"
"Well, look at that," Beastie interrupted, getting to his feet. He flipped through the pages an amused look on his face. "You actually managed to get it. I thought Nergal would be the perfect obstacle, but apparently I've underestimated you." He shrugged and tossed the book into the trash can next to the desk. "Well, I won't be doing that again."
Mallory and John exchanged a glance, Mallory's face going from surprised and confused to angry as she looked at John's face harden.
"You set the whole thing up," John growled.
Beastie chuckled, leaning on the edge of his desk. "Well, of course I did. Did you really think there was anything, on Hell or Earth, that I haven't had access to in all the time I've been down here?"
Mallory clenched her fists at her side, furious. He tricked them. He never intended to stick to the deal, he just wanted to send them on a wild goose chase. He was probably watching them every step of the way. "Why? What did you gain from this?" she asked. She may not have had much experience with Hell, but she knew villains, and they always had a reason for what they did.
"Oh, I was bored, I suppose. Besides, I needed you out of the way while I gathered my army around the portals. It would have been such a shame to kill you, when you both have so much more to do." He smiled, looking between them. "Oh, I can't wait to meet your friends first-hand. I'm sure they'll be some of the first to fall. Who to start with, though? Perhaps Superman?"
Mallory's eyes narrowed to slits.
"No? Well, perhaps you're right. It should be someone a little less known. We wouldn't want to end the fight before it starts. We could start lower. Superboy? Aqualad? Nightwing?"
Her teeth were grinding and her breathing came heavier with every name, and Beastie was practically beaming.
"No, I've got it! I've heard so much about this Zatanna, it would be a shame to pass her up. I think I'll pay her a visit personally."
They were moving without even looking at each other. Mallory shot at the demon, flying over the desk and pinning him to the opposite. John threw some magic at him and it kept him on the wall, but she barely noticed. She had her forearm pressed to his throat, glaring, her eyes flaming.
"Do not threaten my family," she growled.
Beastie chuckled. "You think you can beat me? Please. You couldn't even defeat Nergal between the two of you." He broke the spell, the light shattering, and in the next second he had thrown John across the room with a wave of his hand and pinned Mallory to the wall where he'd been before. He stared down at her, and his eyes flashed. It was like that look was burning through her soul. "It's really a shame, Mallory. I had such high hopes for you. But," he lowered his hand from her throat to her sternum, and in one swift motion, brought it down.
She felt the protection spell being ripped away. She collapsed, pain suffocating her. All of the fits from overusing her powers, all the punches she'd taken and dealt, cracked ribs, burns, cuts, but none of that was the worst of it. No, the worst of the pain was on the inside. All the grief she'd ever felt, all of the fear, it all came back as fresh as if it had just happened. Tula, Ted, Artemis, Jason, Wally, Brek, the betrayal she felt from Kaldur. She also felt everything she'd ever inflicted on anyone else, so she felt the breakups, hurt feelings, and irritation on top of it all. She felt trapped in her own body, her senses barely registering anything in the room. She was vaguely aware of shouting, something casting a shadow over her.
She shut her eyes, finding the piece of herself that was still sane, and she grabbed hold. Everything in her wanted to die to escape the pain, but she managed to catch on to one solid thought. It was a memory, her and the boys and the team sitting around the couches in the cave eating and talking, a movie in the background. They were in danger, and they didn't even know it. She couldn't give up, not this time. Not ever again.
She tensed her body and started counting, swallowing her grief and pushing aside the physical pain. When she got to ten, her eyes snapped open and she was in the air, and inferno raging around her body. John's eyes widened and he lost his concentration, the spell he'd been working on fizzling out. It didn't matter. Beastie's attention was drawn up to her anyway.
"That's–well, I am impressed," he admitted, lifting himself into the air to be level with her. "I expected you to give in, surrender to the agony. That is what most mortals do, after all."
"I am very used to managing pain." She had to force the words out past the pressure in her chest, and they came out rough and raw. "Let me make this perfectly clear," she said, still just hovering in front of him, "You do not want to underestimate me. I don't care if you're immortal and all powerful, if you hurt my family, I will do whatever it takes to–"
"What? Kill me? Send me off to Hell?" The First of the Fallen shook his head, a sympathetic look on his face. "Don't be embarrassed. You mortals don't seem to be able to comprehend what it means to be immortal."
"I'd believe her, if I were you," John called from the ground. He walked over so he was standing close to her and lit a cigarette off the flames. "She's stronger than you think, and you know I have connections. I don't think you want to deal with the consequences of pissing the both of us off. You know exactly how big of an army we can call up. Do you really want to have to fight on the mortal plane and down here?"
Beastie tilted his head, taking them in, then he landed, laughing. "Well, if you think that's going to scare me, then–"
The pain was fighting to take over. Mallory knew she couldn't keep going for long, and she also knew that she didn't have any leverage. Unless… She landed, the fire too painful to keep up any longer, but she managed to stand up straight next to John to deliver her last desperate threat. "If you don't hold to your side of the deal," she started slowly, "I will shut Arkham down. I'll spread all the inmates across the country, and I will burn the place to the ground. There won't be anything left of it."
Beastie chuckled, but it wasn't as confident as it was before. "What makes you think I care about some mortal holding pin?" he asked, but John smiled.
"Oh, that's not all. Nanda Parbat, Lazarus Island, I could just keep going, or we could draw up a contract here and now."
Beastie chuckled again, straightening his tie. "Well, I suppose it is a bad time of the year for an uprising. All right, Johnny, you win. I'll call off the others. You'd better get this one back to the mortal plane before she–"
"No. In writing, unbreakable, and for all time," John said firmly.
The man sighed loudly, but he waved a hand and a paper appeared in it. "There, take it and get out. I've had my fill of fun for now."
John muttered something, and the paper glowed yellow and shook for a moment, then returned to normal. He nodded and put the paper in his coat pocket. "Always a pleasure, Beastie." He walked past the desk and swiped the book out of the trash. "We'll be taking this, as well, since you tossed it. Inferno, you ready?"
Mallory nodded, unable to talk through the screams building in her chest.
"Good work, Inferno. He'd be so proud," Beastie called just as the door was sealing shut.
She went limp as soon as she was out of the room, and John caught her arm, propping her up. "Mallory, hang on, luv, I'll get you out of here," John said softly. She couldn't respond as tremors started to take over her body. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was the sparks of light as John opened the portal.
She woke up in a daze. For a moment before she opened her eyes, all she felt was the sweet relief from the intense agony. It felt so good she laughed, hugging herself, and she realized she wasn't wearing her jacket. She opened her eyes slowly and was greeted by a dim, smokey room. She shot awake and dread built up in her chest when she saw John sitting next to her in a bar, nursing a drink.
"Why are we still–"
He grabbed her shoulders. "Easy, luv, we're back in Metropolis."
She sat back in her chair, taking it in. "Did we win?" she asked. She couldn't quite remember what happened after the protection spell was taken off, just bits and pieces and pain.
"Yeah, we did, thanks to you. I wouldn't have thought to use Arkham against him. To be honest, I'm not sure how you knew to."
It was a question, and Mallory thought hard, trying to remember how she'd known. "Oh, I was there," she said. "When you were playing those demons to find out where the book was, I was sent to, well, it wasn't Arkham, but it was. It had cells waiting, I recognized some of the names. I don't know, I was grasping at straws, but I figured it had to be important if it was down there."
"Yeah, it is. There's evil all in the worlds, but there are some places, caches, that so much of the evil and darkness collects that it becomes a prime spot for a gate to Hell. Arkham is one of those spots, so threatening to close it down would have closed a doorway to Hell."
She took a breath. "So, shouldn't we destroy it anyway, then?"
John shook his head, finishing his drink in a gulp. "It wouldn't matter, there would be another one in seconds. Besides, now that we have the unbreakable contract, he can't invade this realm from anywhere in the universe."
"And there's no loopholes?" Mallory asked.
"No, no obvious ones. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if he found one." He looked at the time. "Well, you should be getting back to the office. Don't want to be late," he said.
She scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion and looked at the time on her phone. She still had ten minutes left for her lunch break. She laughed. "How? It felt like we were down there for hours."
"Time worked differently down there. Or, more like it doesn't exist. Don't try to understand it, just be glad you won't have to explain where you were to your boss."
She chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I am that." She looked at him and smiled a little. "You know, I may have misjudged you. I'm sorry I hated you."
He chuckled. "Ditto. I suppose you're not as insufferable as I thought either." He sighed and pushed the glass away from him. "You don't have to worry about me hurting Z again, you know."
She nodded. "I know. I believe you love her enough to stay away from her." She paused, then added, "maybe even enough to be the man she wants you to be."
His face softened a little and he shrugged. "Maybe." He slid the book to her.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked.
"Well, you were saying that you sometimes felt like you would always be a failure, so I thought you might want a peek. It's the least I can do, after kidnapping you and all."
She chuckled, running a finger over the gold cover. It would be nice to know for sure what was coming, now that she didn't have the prophecy hanging over her head. She started to lift the cover, then shook her head, pushing it back to him. "No. I don't need to know what's coming," she said, smiling as she realized that it was true. She felt content, and for the first time in a long time, she felt sure of what her path needed to be.
She stood and started walking to the door, but she turned back at the door. "If you ever need help with something like this again?"
"Yeah?"
She smiled. "Call Etrigan."
John laughed. "Will do. Thanks, Mal. I owe you one."
She nodded and left the bar, enjoying the familiarity of her city as she walked back to her office building. It was good to be back.
That night, Mallory brought takeout home with her. She couldn't stop smiling as she and Dick dished out the food.
"Why are you in such a good mood?" Dick asked as they settled on the couch to watch a movie with their dinner.
"I don't know," she replied. She didn't know how to explain that reliving all of her pain all at once had made her determined to put it behind her. She looked around the room, her makeshift bedroom, and realized that the first step to doing that would be to get out on her own again. She looked back at Dick and said, "I decided that I'm ready to move on."
He turned the TV off and set his bowl on the coffee table. "Wait, does that mean…"
She nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to start looking for an apartment."