Chapter 12

After Dinah left and Barbara hung up, Jason sat with his thoughts and processed everything they told him. Whether or not he liked it, he was involved now. He had to help Helena, one way or another.

He stood up, wincing at the tightness in his back. He had grown well-accustomed to pain, so the wounds itched more than hurt. He fought the urge to pop a kink in his shoulder, knowing it would strain his stitches. He didn't think Dinah would appreciate that.

Knocking on the bedroom door twice, Jason said, "Coming in." He let himself in.

Helena didn't offer a reply, just a grunt. He found her at the end of the bed, struggling to wrap her wrist. "Shit." The bandage fell out of her shaky hands.

"When did this happen?" Jason asked.

"When I was trying to get rid of your car's broken window during the gunfight."

"You drove all the way back here with a busted wrist?"

Helena let out a bitter laugh. "Would you rather we just parked there and let those goons paint your 'baby' with lead until Dinah arrived?"

Jason picked up the bandage, and sat down next to Helena, and wrapped her wrist. It was only a sprain, by the look of the swelling. It would still take at least a week to heal. "You saved my life, pulling me into the car."

Helena scoffed. "You saved my life, pushing me into the car." She took her arm back when Jason was done wrapping it. "Are you alright?"

He rolled his shoulders. They were already stiff and getting worse. "This isn't the first time I've been shot. It won't be the last."

"How did you know they were going to shoot us then?"

"Instinct," Jason said, recalling the details of the moment. There was too long of a lull in the fight, suggesting any goons left were finding cover. They had cleared the garage but did not account for the area beyond the open bay doors. Then he heard metal clattering in a distinctly familiar way. "Eh—more like experience. You'll learn, too; it comes with time."

When you've been fighting crime as long as Jason had, "experience" becomes second nature. Things like that couldn't be taught, only learned the hard way. That's why Barbara and Dinah couldn't let Helena do this on her own, no matter how much they had trained her. They could only soften the blow when she made a mistake.

Helena stared at him. Jason could tell she was reading him. She looked anxious. "Am I in over my head?" she asked.

"Taking on a whole gang? Yes." He felt grim, recalling Stephanie's brashness during the Gang War. "But at least you have enough sense not to do it alone. The last Batgirl that tried to do that ended up in a coma."

"I'm not stupid. I know I need all the help I can get, but there aren't a lot of people I can trust with this. Not a lot of people would understand why I need to do this."

Jason felt a familiar weight in his chest. It was the burden of pain someone inflicted on you and the desperate need to give it back tenfold. "You don't just want justice for your mother, Helena. You want revenge. It's different.'"

Helena tried to maintain his gaze but quickly looked away.

"Locking up Sofia Falcone isn't enough," Jason said. "You want to hurt her."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Will you help me, Jay?"

He understood why Dinah and Barbara signed on to this vendetta and why they wanted his help. It wasn't just Helena's life at risk. This was their only chance to stop her from making a horrible mistake that would cost her soul. If Helena killed Sofia Falcone, there was no telling what Bruce would do her—or anyone else involved.

Helena was about to cross the same line he had crossed long ago. Jason had been struggling for years trying to reverse that mistake.

Jason sighed. "I won't help you kill her if that's what you're asking. The Bat Family doesn't kill, remember?"

Helena looked stern. "I'm not a member of the Bat Family, and neither are you."

Jason groaned. "Let me rephrase. This isn't a Robin or Batgirl thing. You're still a Wayne, Helena. You're still Bruce's daughter. Waynes don't kill. Don't you remember Damian when he was younger? How hard your Dad and Dick worked to deprogram the brainwashing Talia and Ra's did to him?"

"I just want to make Sofia Falcone's world fall apart, Jay." Helena looked desperate. "I want to tear it all down! Like she did to me! I deserve at least that, don't I?"

The tears in her eyes finally fell, so Jason hugged her.

She hugged him back, and it hurt. "I'll help you," Jason said, "but first, let's get some ice on that wrist."

In the kitchen, he put together an ice pack and handed it to Helena. She winced as she placed it on. "Got some Tylenol or something?"

"I'll do you better." He rummaged through a cabinet and pulled out a pill bottle. "How about an oxy?"

Helena arched her brows. "That'll do the trick."

Mindful of Roy, Jason didn't carry around painkillers anymore and, if he could, would try to get by without them. But Helena clearly wasn't as accustomed to physical pain as he was. He gave her a pill and took one for himself.

Helena offered a fist bump in lieu of a toast. "I guess this is our nightcap."

After taking the pill, Jason said, "No offense, but you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks, you too."

"You take the bed tonight."

Helena looked out the window at the rising sun. "More like today. But no, thanks. Your back is Swiss cheese, thanks to me. You take it."

"I'm going to bleed all over the covers. No."

"And the sofa will look better with blood stains on it? You need to lie on your stomach; you can't do that on the sofa."

Jason scowled, admitting to himself she had a point, but he did not relent. "You just fought off a dozen thugs. You think you're sore now? Wait till you wake up tomorrow after sleeping on that thing."

"Okay, look… How about we share?"

Jason felt his face heat up. "Um…"

"If your first night here was any indication, we are clearly able to keep to our sides without trouble." She stood and headed to the bedroom. "Let's just wear some pajamas for the sake of modesty."

Shamefully thinking back to the way he leered at Helena when he first discovered her in his bed, Jason blushed.

"Sure." He hoped he'd be too stoned from the painkiller to notice her beside him.

Notes

In this chapter, I tried to work from the mainstream Helena's original motivation. In the mainstream version of Huntress, she targets mafia groups for killing her family, who were also mafiosos. In my version, she targets the Falcone Mafia for killing her mother. Details don't really matter to me. I love Huntress because her origin story is driven by revenge, just like Red Hood.