The Flightless

Strugglework

Windfall, Deadshot, and Rick go ahead to scout out the area and clear out civilians.

I stand at the edge of the Macy's building. Lights glimmer so bright, I almost believe it's not nighttime. People bustle around as if it was the middle of the day. My lungs inhale the unclean air. It's not Gotham. It's not home. Home is where my daughter is. Home is where my husband is.

Fate gently lays a hand on my shoulder. "I miss them, too."

I wish I could hug him. I wish I could afford some softness. But I set my shoulders straight and clench down on my jaw as the cold air wisps against my bare legs. Now is no time to be gentle.

"We'll go home to them soon enough. The world's at stake, remember?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but Deadshot comes on the inner coms before he gets the chance to.

"I'm in position. All is clear over here. How're you looking, Windfall?"

She answers as light and fluttery as the air, itself. "I'm clearing— I'm clearing out the last— last of the civilians now, Deadshot."

"Alright team," Rick says. "Let's move in. Remember your mission. Support your heavy hitter at all costs. If we do this right, we won't have to fight this thing."

I take my place beside Constantine. He smells of cheap cigarettes and alcohol. His scent is reminiscent of my husband.

He smirks at my side, lighting up a cigarette. "Why so glum, chum? Cheer up, love. It's just the end of the world."

"And we've got a front-row seat." His humor lifts my spirits if only a little. "It's not this mission that worries me. It's the next one, and the next one, and the next one. Waller's not going to let us go. She's not going to let me go. She's going to use us until we give out."

Constantine extends the box to me. "Now you're opening your eyes. Want a smoke?"

"No, thanks."

"We've got an audience," he says, pocketing the tobacco.

A small crowd has already gathered outside the building. News reporters and anchors set up their cameras and microphones. They must be even more confused than I am.

Windfall lands beside me. Our trio takes the front entrance. My hands clench into tight fists. Room by room, we secure the dark, silent building until we're reunited with our other team members in the main lab.

Fries runs an optical scan of the particle accelerator.

"This is it," he whispers. "Brimstone is inside there."

"Huh. I thought he'd be— be bigger," Windfall murmurs.

Rick signals for us to slowly move in. "He'll grow bigger if we alert him. We need to shut off the accelerator in order to zap his power."

Livewire collects static in her palms. "I can do that."

"No!" I scream.

It's too late. Electricity shoots from her palms directly into the metallic object.

For a second, all is silent. Just as I start to relax, the ground shakes beneath our feet. A bright, mass of fire and anger rages from the accelerator.

"Someone contain that thing!"

Fate casts a large, yellow forcefield around the device.

Brimstone struggles against Nabu's shield. He scratches, growls, and thrashes against the restraint. My friend remains strong.