They spilled out of the zeta tube onto the bridge, still high from adrenaline. The senior members sobered, though, when they saw Kaldur and Raquel standing just down the stairs, their postures tense and guarded. Megan linked them immediately, letting the younger members of the team move on to the locker rooms before asking, "what is it?"
The Leaguers exchanged a heavy look, and Artemis took a ragged breath and changed the question with one word. "Who?"
Kaldur took a breath. "It is Nightwing."
Dread began to claw its way around Mallory's heart, her throat closing before they got any more information. "No," she murmured, "not Dick."
"He's alive," Raquel assured them in a rush, but the tone of her voice didn't do much to relieve the knot in Mallory's throat.
"Well, what then?" Conner asked, and once again the Leaguers exchanged that grim look.
"Perhaps we should tell you on the way. Zatanna is with him now."
"But what's…" Artemis started, but Kaldur cut her off with a look that they all understood. Not here. They looked at each other, their stomachs sinking as the former leader turned around and punched in their coordinates, their minds whirling as they tried to guess what had happened to their friend.
By the time they reached Dick's apartment building, white-hot fury was bubbling out of Mallory's core. They'd all been beaten, betrayed, broken, been pushed to their limits over and over, even lost friends and faced death themselves, and that was all part of the job, but this? This was something else, something that none of them planned for, because it just wasn't supposed to happen. They gave up too much for the universe to take this, too.
The window was open, so one by one they climbed in, gathering in a group, none of them knowing what to do. Roy and Zatanna were sitting on either side of Dick on the couch, all of them in costume. Dick had his arms braced on his legs, his face hidden in his hands. He was so still, even his chest barely moved when he breathed. His companions looked up when the rest of the team came in, and Zatanna rubbed his back before getting up to meet them.
"He…" she started, but Raquel shook her head, stopping the magician from finishing the explanation. "We told them on the way."
Zatanna nodded, and the group fell into another uncomfortable silence, all eyes on their friend. "He hasn't said anything since Roy found him," she murmured. "The body was right next to him, and… she didn't stick around after."
"How long was he out there, alone?" Megan asked, her voice breaking on the last word.
Kaldur shook his head. "We do not know, Rachel told them that he went out right after work, but he did not call Roy until close to three."
"Rachel! Is she ok? She didn't get dragged into this, did she?" Mallory asked, her eyes leaving her friend for the first time to search for a sign of the girl.
"No, she's fine. I brought her to my place before Roy brought him back."
Mallory nodded, rubbing her hand where the empath had read her when they first met. The kid didn't need to know what Dick was feeling right now.
"What are we doing?" Artemis asked, clenching and unclenching her fist. "We should call someone, shouldn't we? Bruce, or Alfred maybe. We–"
"No!" They all jumped at Dick's voice, quiet but sharp. He was sitting up now, staring intently at them. "Don't."
"You should–"
"No. They can't know, none of them," he insisted, then, quieter, he repeated, "none of them."
They all realized what he was saying at the same time. He didn't want his siblings to know. He didn't want them to go off and handle it on their own. The group seemed to collectively move towards the sofa, Megan taking Zatanna's spot next to him, rubbing slow circles on his back.
"Ok," she agreed. "They won't know."
He nodded, and for a split second, it seemed like he was getting back to his normal self. He took a ragged breath, squared his shoulders… and then they saw him break right in front of them. Mallory could count on one hand how many times she'd seen Dick cry, one of which being when his brother was murdered, another when he didn't know if Barbara was going to live. This, seeing him break down, leaning on Roy, his whole body shuddering, had her frozen in her spot. Part of her wanted to go to him, but the other part, the magma still gushing from the center of her being, kept her in her place, grinding her teeth and clenching her fists.
She was alone, the only one who hadn't moved. She could feel her temperature rising, the itch right under her skin that marked the fire trying to push its way out. She couldn't stay here, she had to let it out. She backed up to the window, her movements going unnoticed in the crowded room. One more glance around at her friends, and she was ducking out the window and climbing up the fire escape to the roof.
There was more wind than usual tonight, a storm was supposed to blow through later that week, but the breeze didn't do much to cool her flaming skin. She flew up ten, twenty, eighty feet, until the city was nothing more than a smudge beneath a thick cloud of smog, then she let it all out. Every channel burst open, a scream tearing out of her throat as she finally relinquished the effort of holding it in, the consuming, blinding rage forced its way out of her, leaving a calmer, more calculated emotion pointing her towards one thing: revenge. And with that feeling bringing back a cooler anger, one that didn't take over her thoughts but instead fueled them, a name floated to the front of her mind, a name and a face, and she dove back through the blanket of smog, landing on the top level of an unfinished building. She leaned against the metal skeleton, heating the bars in a particular pattern, a red hot T calling the person that was responsible for what had happened to Dick. Tarantula would pay.
"Hey, Fire Girl. You called?"
Mallory stiffened at the sickly sweet voice, the underlying satisfaction turning her stomach. She couldn't have controlled the flames lighting up her visors if she tried, and she had no intention of trying. Not tonight, not with her.
"Dickie told you what happened, didn't he? I guess he was a little surprised that I killed Blockbuster, but he knows I was right. You can't let these people get away with things over and over again, that's what you hero types don't want to admit. That's why we make such a good team, Nightwing and I. He does the detective stuff, finds the target, flushes them out, and then I come in with the finishing blow, never to fight that bad guy again." She smirked and added, "well, that, and…"
The blinding rage was coming back, with every word out of the woman's mouth and every swish of her hips. She thought this was some sort of game, that her actions didn't have any consequences. There was no remorse in her eyes, no regret written in her actions. She was proud of what she'd done, and she was having fun toying with the hero, knowing that she already didn't like her before this happened. She was rubbing her face in it, bringing up the so-called hero's code and betting on the fact that the long-time hero wouldn't do anything about it. Well, she was dead wrong.
Mallory started walking forward, the fire in her eyes spreading with each step, until her entire body was surrounded in a red glow, flames licking her skin and sparks flying off her hair. Nothing changed in the antihero's posture, but the closer the pyrokinetic came to her, the wider her eyes became, until the fear practically shone in them, reflecting off the fire now inches away.
"You don't even regret it, do you?" Mallory asked. The woman wisely kept her mouth shut, realizing her precarious predicament, so Mallory just continued, "but you will."
It was just then that Tarantula's back hit the beam, cornering her, and she snapped into action. One twist and she backflipped off the beam, her foot hitting Mallory in the chin before gravity pulled her down. She landed perfectly on the level below, not even pausing for balance before she started running. Mallory unclenched her fists and dove after her, her only plan to make her pay. She caught up to her on the level below, swooping around the spikes thrown at her and throwing a fireball that singed the bottoms of her opponent's shoes as she jumped away.
Once again, Mallory followed her down, her brain taking in every angle, every surrounding beam to anticipate every move the second before the thought left her opponent's brain. All of it, from the smoke pellets to using the equipment as props for fight and flight, all of it was Dick's. It gave Mallory an advantage, and made her hate Tarantula even more. Dick spent months helping her, training her, taking her under his wing, and she just couldn't see that he would take Blockbuster's death personally. And then she couldn't even leave it at that. A picture of him, in shock, a human being's blood pooling on the concrete in front of him formed in her mind, and a shudder went through her body, her chest tightening as she thought about Tarantula taking advantage of her friend, her brother, in such a bad state.
She turned a corner, expecting to see the fleeing form of the orange crop top, but instead she was met with more of the half-finished building, the metal skeleton sticking out of partially laid sheetrock like bones poking through skin. She paused, lighting her eyes and scanning the area, but everything was still. A scrape brought her attention to above her, but she turned too late to duck the woman, and she crashed into her, dragging them both down three stories before the pyrokinetic could counter the extra weight with fire and stop the descent.
She grabbed Tarantula by her ponytail and threw her down the last ten feet, the mud from the alley squelching at the impact. She'd landed before her opponent could get to her feet, and she grabbed her by her shirt and dragged her up, slipping into her strength without even thinking about it. She expected a quip, or a smirk, but she got neither. Instead, there was actual terror on the woman's face as she kicked her dangling feet and clawed at Mallory's hand. And for a moment, she almost weakened, but then that image of Dick popped back into her head, and her grip tightened, the glare returning to her face. "You're going to pay," she said darkly, her arm rising almost on its own, the attached hand gathering a fireball that reflected in Tarantula's widening eyes.
Firm fingers wrapped around Mallory's arm, and she snapped her head back, ready to fight whoever had come to the antihero's aid. That fury turned to confusion, though, when she realized that it was Tigress standing there, one hand still holding on to her.
"Let go," she demanded, trying to jerk her arm out of her friend's grip.
Artemis shook her head, eyeing the fire in her raised hand pointedly. "This isn't the way," she said, forcing her to lower her arm.
Mallory glared at her, defenses coming up. "What is, then? I'm not letting her get away with it."
Artemis nodded. "Good, then we're on the same page." Her fist connected with Tarantula's face before Mallory even realized what she was going to do, and the antihero ended up back on the ground, cupping her jaw with one hand and slowly crawling back with the other.
For half an hour, the heroes took out their wrath on the woman, beating her until she was swollen and bloody and no longer trying to fight back. Once she lost consciousness, though, they let her slump to the ground and backed up a little, not knowing what to do with her now that they had calm heads. They exchanged a glance and Mallory gave voice to the only thing they were sure of now.
"We aren't calling the cops, are we?" Artemis shook her head grimly. They couldn't turn her in, even if they wanted to. She knew Nightwing's secret identity, and she crossed the line. "Ok, then, who do we know?" Mallory asked quietly.
They mentally ticked off the few people they were acquainted with. Arsenal and Red Hood were out because they would kill her for sure, and Dick didn't want his family to find out for that very reason. "I could call my dad," Artemis suggested, and Mallory didn't disagree. The archer sighed heavily, pulling a comm out of her pocket and replacing the League issued one. "Sportsmaster. Tigress, I need a favor." A pause and an eye roll. "Well most people would say 'because I'm your daughter', but I'm gonna go with 'you owe me for not turning you in the last time I saw you'." Another pause, and her hand balled into a fist. "I just need you to make someone disappear." She groaned at whatever Sportsmaster said. "No, don't kill her, just make sure she doesn't come back to Bludhaven." Another pause, and then anger flashed across Artemis' face and she ripped the comm out of her ear. "I can't believe him! He's a professional assassin and he won't do one little kidnapping."
"Why not?"
"He's not going to get involved in my petty drama, and if I want to get rid of someone I should do it myself."
Mallory sighed, raking a hand through her hair to cover the angry fist. "What's Jade doing these days?" she asked, but Artemis was already shaking her head.
"I'm not giving her a reason to get back in the life. I don't know how to get in touch with her, anyway."
"Great," Mallory muttered, glancing down at the unconscious woman at their feet. "So… who else can we call?"
Artemis tilted her head. "I guess Cameron wouldn't be willing to call up an old contact, huh?"
Mallory shook her head. "No." Her gaze drifted to the sign next to them, announcing the construction site's finished goal, her eyes catching on the logo in the corner. "But there is one other person we could try."
Artemis followed her gaze, her face hardening with realization, then resignation. "Are you sure?" she asked.
Mallory let the question hang in the air for a long moment, but ultimately she stooped down and grabbed Tarantula by the scruff of her costume. "Let's go."
At four thirty in the morning, Mallory doubted that anyone would still be in the offices, so she went straight to Lex's penthouse and burned through the floor length window of his bedroom. He bolted up at the glass cracking from the heat, his bare chest heaving from the adrenaline rush as he watched Inferno land at the foot of his bed and toss Tarantula down on his sheets. His bodyguards heard the noises, too, and knocked on the door, but one carefully aimed line of fire and the doors were welded shut. The billionaire blinked a few more times, clearly not knowing what was going on, but Mallory didn't give him any more time to figure it out.
"I need you to take care of her," she announced, keeping her voice just low enough that it wouldn't carry outside the room. "I need her to disappear, somewhere I'll never have to hear about her again." She expected another surprised look, but instead, Lex seemed pleased with the request. A smile that could almost be called pride crossed his face, and he stepped out of bed and slipped on a robe, collecting himself.
"Well, well, well. What has this poor soul done to earn such wrath from the Daughter of Metropolis?"
She narrowed her eyes to slits, glaring at the woman who was just starting to regain consciousness. "She crossed a line," she said darkly.
"Must have been a bad one for a hero such as yourself to sign off on murder."
Her eyes widened, fear crossing her face for a split second before she managed to control the spike in her chest. "I want her gone, not dead. I don't care what you do with her, as long as you don't kill her and she doesn't end up back in two weeks."
"Well, I see your problem. Prison certainly wouldn't be a solution, then."
She turned her glare on him. "Just do it," she snapped.
He tilted his head, crossing his arms. "Well," he started, somehow gaining the upper hand in their confrontation even in his pajamas, "I certainly could, but unlike your crowd, I do not offer my services for free."
She arched an eyebrow. "What do you want?"
He shrugged. "Let's just say that you'll owe me a favor."
She thought back through her history, tallying all the favors she owed. As far as she could remember, she didn't owe any other supervillains at the moment, so she rolled her eyes and nodded once. "Whatever, just do it."
His eyes lit up. "Excellent. Consider it done." She turned back towards the window, ready to go pick up Artemis, but he stopped her with, "so, how does it feel?"
Her eyebrows furrowed and she half turned, though everything in her knew better. "What?"
"How does it feel, to slip just a little further behind the line? Almost like you're following in someone's footsteps."
She shook her head, confusion mixing with the anger swirling in her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about, but you're not my mentor, or my father, or whatever you're trying to say you are, and I'm not in the mood for your mind games."
He put on an offended look. "And after all the effort I've put into looking after you all these years."
She scoffed. "Yeah, right. I'm sure trying to kill me and my team every other week took a lot out of you, but forgive me if I'm not all that grateful for it."
He shrugged. "You may not believe it, but it's true. And I may not be your inspiration, but aren't you even a little curious who is?"
She shook her head again, but it was slower this time, her tired mind trying to figure out what he was trying to get from this interaction. When she couldn't come up with an answer right away, she just turned and dove out the hole in the window, the sound of the door splintering open chasing her exit.
She met Artemis back at the zeta tube, going straight into the phone booth to angrily punch in her coordinates. Her friend leaned on the doorway, studying the red head's face, but to Mallory's relief, she didn't ask. They just zetaed back to Bludhaven and went straight to the room, climbing down the fire escape and into Dick's window. The others looked up when they came in, and Conner met them at the window.
"Where were you?" he asked.
The girls exchanged a glance, and Mallory shrugged. "Just had an errand to run, but it's done now."
The others were looking at them now, and Mallory was hyper aware of how each of their gazes traveled down to the girls' hands, where their knuckles were marred with blood too fresh to be from the mission. She rubbed them with her thumbs, and she and Artemis went to the sofa, sitting on either side of Dick. "It's done now."