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flying is basically like dying, jason

She lowered her hands down beside her. Her eyes that once shown fear and anguish were now bright and happy. I didn't know how she could flip the switch and everything change for her, but she could do it.

It was unsettling that was for sure.

"I can keep a secret." I finally answered her after taking in the change in front of me.

"Aren't secrets a funny thing? I mean you carry around this information with you that is probably life altering for someone and you choose to not tell anyone." She exhales. "Well. I'm tired of carrying around my secrets, Red. I want to tell the world. I'll start with you."

She shimmies away from the railing and inches closer to me. Her eyes searching the hood trying to find my eyes no doubt.

"I believe the eyes are the windows to the soul. Sometimes, someone's eyes can be misleading. But not yours. Your eyes always reflect the same thing." She trails off as if trying to figure it out.

"I know that I've killed many people. I know that a lot of the things that I have done would be considered cruel and usual punishment, but I can't stop. Wait.. that's not the word. I don't WANT to stop." I refuse to move even as she closes in on me. But she stops a few feet away from me, turning again to look out at the land.

"The feeling I get from actually killing is like nothing else that I have felt before. Nothing comes close to even remotely feeling that way. The bad part is that sometimes, I can stop myself, but I just don't want too. Do ever feel that way?" She didn't turn to look at me. She just continues to stare out.

"I can't say that I particularly like killing people, but sometimes the situation calls for it. I refuse to let anyone terrorize the mass of people and not be held responsible for their actions. So, if by killing one, you're saving many, then it's all just for the greater good." This will always be why I have to leave Gotham. This is why I have to run as fast as I can from this place or else I get stuck in the same obsession of trying to kill the Joker.

"Do you get scared when you kill people?" She sounds dreamy. Perhaps she's thinking of a time back when she first killed.

"No." I said flatly. I was tired of these games, but I also wanted to get her the help that she needed.

"I didn't kill my dad. I did lure him out to me. I did ask him why he threw me in that place to rot. But I knew the reason why. I remembered everything when you found me. I knew that I had hurt a lot of people. And I'm not sorry." She turns them, leaning back against the railing.

"Bad people must face the consequences of their actions. We're free to make choices, but we're not free from the consequences. I'm sure even your father knew that." I took a step forward. I was on the offensive now. I was through playing defense.

"Oh, he knew that and he dished out my consequences. He was going to kill me. I tried to kill him first. But when he turned the tables on me, I had no choice but to run. So, I came here. I have history with this place. It makes everything seem real. Ya know?" She shrugs.

I did know. I knew exactly how she felt and thats why I feel like I have to help her.

"I can get you help. You don't have to worry about what happened in your past. There's programs outside of Gotham that can help you. You don't have to live this way." She turns quick laughing at me. But it was a bitter laugh.

"Don't you think my parents didn't send me to all the best places to fix me? Don't you think they pushed money at nearly every doctor to make me want to act right? They did! They did all of that. So, tell me what you can do that they didn't already try." She's yelling now. I can see the anger and hurt and a little resentment.

"I've been where you've been. I know exactly what you're feeling and I can help you. I know what it's like not really knowing who you are. I can take you and..."

"NO! You can't save me. Stop trying. Stop playing this damned hero role. That's not who you are! Good God, Red. You're just as demented and twisted I am. The difference between you and I is that I don't fight the inner demons. I embrace them and let them do what they want. But you, you fight them. You try to be better than you feel. Tell me something, how has that worked out for you? Because the way I see it, you're still lonely. You're still angry. You have no family." She laughs. It feels like it echos out into the field.

"You and I are the same. But I have more fun." She shrugs.

"You lie to yourself. Do you really have more fun? What did it get you? Locked away in a cell? I have my freedom. I have exactly what I want to have. You have nothing. I have family, a father, brothers. I have all that. What do you have? A cold body and a woman who doesn't even know you're alive. That's grand." I tried to not be impatient, but I couldn't stomach it anymore.

"Keep telling yourself that. You have nothing because you are nothing." She bites back at me.

A frown goes across her face, then she backs up holding her hands up.

"I'm tired, Jason." She spoke my name. She knew my name. She knew everything.

I tense.

"Then let me help you. I can train you to be like me. I'll be there for you." I reached my hand out for her. She just needs a little confidence boost.

"No. Not this time. Or anytime. Thank you."

And then she was gone. She flipped backwards over the rails before I could even stop her. Before I realized what she was doing.

I ran over trying to catch her, but even I knew there was nothing I could do. She was gone. She was at the bottom and she wasn't moving.

Agatha was dead.