𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

chapter 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞.

ˢⁱⁿᶠᵘˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵃᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

໒꒰ྀི'🐍‧｡⋆

[ the truth ]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

"The Joker and Harley Quinn are no more."

You had bared your fangs in anger but thought against further retaliation. That wouldn't help Harley. She was going to die, no matter how meticulous and scheming both herself and the Joker were.

You pulled yourself out of Rick's arm, not daring to look back at him as you made your way to the villains. Harkness watched your face for a moment as you found your spot between him and Floyd, and he almost went forth with the stupid idea to console.

Then he realized it was, in fact, stupid.

Removing his hand from your shoulder once you shot another one of your venomous glances, he sighed through his nose, looking over at Deadshot on your side.

"You couldn't save her."

The hitman craned his neck to meet Boomerang's eyes and soon glanced away, shrugging off his words as he watched a helicopter arrive. 

It soon steadied by the ridge, and you raised your hand to slightly cover your eyes due to the raging winds the blades offered. The door slid open, revealing a soldier in headgear, holding his hand out to Waller who took hold of it.

"Watch your step, ma'am."

She stepped into the vehicle, finding herself on the first seat, leaning down as she grasped onto one of the overhead handlebars. 

"Stand by. I'll send another halo!" she exclaimed over the sound of the spinning rotor blades.

The soldier closed the door, and soon, you watched with disdain as the helicopter lifted into the sky, making its way down past the building and into the far-down street. 

You busied yourself by sitting down on one of the blocky structures found on the roof. Hiking your knee up, you rested your axe against it, tapping your finger along the serrated edge. 

Your reflection was murky and wavy, bringing no justice to your features, but it was a mirror in its own deforming way. 

You found yourself analyzing your face, and all the hidden anomalies along it, ranging from small cuts and knicks in your S/C skin, or the way your eyes held such emotions and memories you hadn't allowed seep past onto your tongue and out into the world. 

This is what you had become. The world had chewed you up and spit you back out, and you had hissed back in retaliation. Why did the world gift you with such powers if it was just going to treat you like shit? A question you had wondered about for the past twenty-four years.

Looking up, your eyes locked onto those of Rick. He was watching you from afar; gaze cold and yet, somehow, offering more warmth than you had ever really received. 

Rick Flag was concerned. For you.

And he was doing a really bad job at hiding it.

However, your attention was soon dragged to Floyd, who walked towards you and stopped in front of you, eyes cast downward as he watched your movements.