Memories of Home

xiii. merciless grace//you've gotten into my bloodstream

She felt the little whispers of the dark as she sped through it. The only light that gave any hint as to her movements was the shine from the moon. It was that light that she stayed away from.

A monster living in the shadows, and somehow she had been in the dark so long that she had become a reflection of it...but it turned out the night wasn't the only thing whispering to her.

Dahlia kept her eyes on the night, running faster... but she couldn't outrun that voice.

We are not this person. We are not victims of our environment.

Dahlia snarled.

You're only right about one thing. We are not victims. Otherwise, this 'environment' was made for  me.

But not for US. And you're wrong. This whole situation, this whole game, it's all made for the Kingpin. We are nothing but tools for his gain.

The voice spoke back at her, small, but insistent.

Dahlia just growled again.

There is no US.

Thoughts pounded against her mental barrier as she tried to shove back that part of her until it got quieter, but still the resistance was relentless.

She might have been a monster in the dark, but a monster that was too afraid to leave those shadows to see what the light held all the same.

It might have held anger, but also hope. And something in her fighting so hard that it threatened to break her all over again.

She had worked so hard to build this suit of dark armor, she could only hold on to survival...and survival meant running faster, punching harder, and never stopping.

Surviving isn't the same as living....

The voice spoke again, softly. 

Images broke through suddenly, of flying birds. Pigeons. Laughter as she watched herself run through them with a boy. Hands slipping into her own. First blushes. First Kisses. A world of possibilities.

It was nonsense, Dahlia thought.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, something had changed. She had started looking in mirrors and seeing something else stare back at her. Was she loosing control?

Impossible.

All thoughts quieted as she reached her destination, finding herself staring up at an abandoned water tower. It took little effort for her to scale the building, she was barely out of breath as she got to the rooftop.

She needed to think. SHIELD was putting the heat on their operation, and with the drug serum running out, they were going to need to come up with something quick on how to get Spiderman into their hands. Whatever Fisk wanted, her instincts couldn't rest until it was done.

But....at the thought of Spider Man, something in her chest tightened.

No. She thought. He's just another mark, and I'll bring him in dead or alive.

She would get him out of her thoughts and her life once and for all. The little voice got quieter at that thought. Good. Let that thought silence whoever else was there so Dahlia could fully let go to the darkness. A conscience was nothing but a liability.

Then, another shadow flitted across the corner of her eye.

Looks like we have company...

Her head swung at the loud clang of something hitting the pipes on the water tower. She looked up, and saw a figure staring right back down at her.