Chapter Five

-Megan-

I woke up the next morning, sore and ashamed. The embarrassment only worsened when I rolled over and saw a crisp hundred dollar bill on the nightstand. "For a night of pleasure," a note said, attached to the money. I really didn't want to take it, but I wasn't sure how else I was going to get home.

The memories of all that had happened last night felt like a nightmare. If only it was. I got up and noticed the spots of blood on the sheets. I didn't even have so much as a panty liner to soak up any more bleeding. Figures.

I grabbed a wad of toilet paper from the bathroom, stuffed it in my underwear, and prayed for the best. I then went about gathering my clothes from around the suite. My contacts burned like hell from wearing them to bed, but I suppose another source of discomfort didn't really change much.

This all felt wrong. Like I was supposed to feel something happier right now, but instead I just felt profoundly sad.

That wasn't how it should have happened.

It felt like I should talk to someone about this, but I didn't know who. It was too embarrassing. In the past I would have run to Bridgette immediately when something like this was even on the far horizon, but I couldn't stomach seeing her again. Besides, what if she was just as ashamed of me as I was? What if she still saw me as that irresponsible little girl who never looked before she leapt?

"I NEVER HAD SOMEONE TO TAKE CARE OF ME. AND I NEVER HAD THE FREEDOM TO LET MYSELF BE SAD, OR MAD, OR ANY OTHER DESTRUCTIVE EMOTION. ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!"

The words that she shouted at me in Arkham rang through my head. So strange. Years could pass and it still hurt as much as it did that day.

I checked my reflection in a mirror inside of the living room. My makeup was smeared, and the wig had definitely seen better days, but this would do. It wasn't like I had much of another option.

I grabbed my jacket from where I had draped it over the chair last night, and checked my phone. I had gotten a text from Kori late last night. "Nothing like a pie from Pauli's to celebrate a mission accomplished," the text read and a picture of Roy giving a thumbs-up over a slice of cherry pie was attached.

They were finished with their mission. Not only that, but they were in the city. I was so relieved that I gave out a small laugh. At least I could see Jason and...

Well, I couldn't tell him everything that had happened last night. Especially considering what I had hallucinated happened with him... But at least I could see a friendly face. At least I could try to get out of my head for a little bit.

I called a taxi to take me to his place, and the taxi driver didn't so much as give me a second glance when I stepped into the back of his car. It was a Saturday morning, so no doubt he had seen people in all sorts of states of disarray as they headed back home. As we drove I placed my head against the window, feeling relieved by the coolness of it.

Despite not wanting to, my mind kept on going back to what had happened. From seeing Bridgette again, to Sebastien's pushiness and all the people that I had thought he was. I had never so much as had a sex dream before, it just wasn't something that I was wired to be attracted to. But now I had all of these people grouped together in my head, in a category that I didn't really want at all. It felt like I had violated their privacy somehow.

How could I even think about hooking up with Emily after how much she meant to my brother and what had happened to her? And how would I ever be able to look at Jason again without the image of him kissing me burned into my head?

Friendships can survive stuff like this, right? I'm not the only one who this has happened to, I thought to myself.

And besides, who's even to say that those fantasies were from me? It could have just been the drug Sebastien gave me, and the bizarre ways that my brain tried to interpret all of those new chemicals. The closer that I got to Jason's apartment though, the more ownership I felt over the night. Everything that had happened was my fault. I couldn't blame anyone else.

I was so stupid.

"We're here. That will be $35.27," the cab driver announced.

"Keep the change," I handed him the hundred, glad to be rid of it. I stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind me. It was cold.

I looked down and realized to my embarrassment that I had forgotten my tights back at Sebastien's. I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to will the tears to stay back. Last night wasn't a complete disaster. I got some information and I planted the hacking device.

All of this was still salvageable.

Opening my eyes, I resolved to get through this morning and headed up to Jason.

For someone who was the ward of a billionaire, you'd think that he would choose a fancier place to stay. But this complex was rundown, borderline uninhabitable in some places. The security wasn't that great and I was easily able to get up to Jason's floor with no issues. As I walked down the hallway, arms crossed over my chest, I waved politely at the half-naked toddler standing alone in the hallway. I had long learned to not question the stuff that I saw here. The toddler waved back and his mother stepped out a closed door, ushering him back in.

Releasing one of my arms, I knocked on Jason's door, then immediately folded them back over my chest. It felt like the only thing that was keeping me together was my own embrace.

If I could just see Jason, give him the child-friendly Sparknotes version of what had happened last night, maybe even sneak a hug in there, I might start to feel less like shit.

No answer.

I knocked on the door again. "Please, Jason, I know that you got in late last night, but I really need to see you." The desperation in my voice instantly made me want to turn around and walk away. I was so tired of being the person who begged others to stay by my side, so exhausted from still holding on while the other person has long let go.

That isn't happening here though. I'm just doom-spiraling, I reassured myself when the door opened.

"Jason-" I smiled and took a step forward, when I stopped in my tracks.

Rather than Jason, there was a woman standing in the door. A beautiful woman. Wearing only Jason's t-shirt.

My mind immediately started connecting the dots, and I felt even worse.

"I'm sorry, Jason is taking a shower right now. Would you like me to tell him that you stopped by?" the woman smiled apologetically.

I just stared at her, mouth going dry. I realized that she had blonde hair and blue eyes, but unlike my disguise, her features were natural. She was like the designer version to my name brand. She really was beautiful...

"Um, excuse me..."

I stood up straight and shook my head. "Sorry. Long night. I'm just a friend of Jason's, so I wanted to stop by and see him."

"A friend..." she said. Then her blue eyes lit up like she realized something. "...oh. I'm sorry. If I had known..."

What was she sorry about? Who did she think I was? In fact, who was I? I wasn't Megan anymore. And I wasn't dressed like Liza. A wave of insecurity crashed into me as I felt uncomfortable in the skin I was in.

Whoever I was, this alter ego couldn't be me. She went to places without any idea of how she was going to get out, took drugs that she didn't know the origin of, and slept with men that she didn't even know. She wasn't me. It wasn't me.

But it was.

Looking at Isabel, I wondered if she could tell. Could she sense what had happened? Was it as obvious to everyone as it was to me?

Before I could come up with a lie, I could hear Jason calling out from inside his apartment. "You really shouldn't just answer the door like that, Isabel. You don't know if the person on the other side could be a threat or not."

"Sorry, I didn't think she was dangerous. She said that she wanted to see you," she explained, moving to the side so that he could step through.

He was shirtless and rubbing a towel over his damp hair. My attention instantly went to his toned abs, still slightly wet from the showre- "Oh, hey you," he smiled tiredly. His eyes took in what I was wearing and I could see the recognition click in his head. "...shit. Break the Ice was last night, wasn't it?"

I really couldn't be seeing him shirtless right now. Especially not shirtless and standing next to the beautiful Isabel. My eyes moved up to the ceiling, as if there was a mark that had suddenly caught my attention. "Uh, yeah. It was."

"I'm so sorry. I completely blanked on that. I would have come with you if I had remembered."

"It's okay, you had prior commitments," I waved it off. "It ended up being successful."

"That's good," he said and I could hear some tapping.

Glancing back, I saw his hand casually posed as he leaned against the doorframe. He was wanting to communicate in Morse code. Suddenly it struck me that I had nothing that I could say to him. Even if Isabel wasn't here, even if there wasn't always the looming threat of being watched through my chip, I still wouldn't tell him.

Why had I even come here?

Isabel looked at Jason and then at me, lips pursed in thought.

"Yeah. Good," I shook my head and looked away again. "Well, I'll let you both get back to your morning. Just pretend I was never here." I started to walk away, buttoning up my jacket as I went along.

"Hey wait," I could feel Jason reach out to stop me, when I whirled away from his grasp.

He looked at me with wide eyes, hand frozen in the air, when I came to a realization. It wasn't the drugs last night that made me hallucinate sleeping with Jason last night.

It was my attraction to him.

As much I had tried to suppress it, I could feel it clawing up my chest. There was no denying it anymore. It had been a part of me for so long now, that I couldn't remember being without it. Perhaps this was the closest to love that I would ever get, or maybe just an infatuation. Whatever it was, it was unacceptable. Friends don't feel this way about friends.

Friends don't flinch away from their friends because they desire their touch too much.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a familiar worry in his eyes. Was there ever a time where he didn't look at me with at least some concern in his gaze? It had appeared when Bridgette had shot me years ago and remained there ever since.

I would always just be the girl who had died on his watch. The one who he couldn't save.

There's no way that he could ever see me the way that I see him - not when I was still a victim in his eyes.

"I'm fine. Really," I said and turned around. "I'll see you later," I said, hoping that later wasn't soon.

Knowing that I wished it was.

"Okay...well text me if you need anything? You know that I'm here for you."

He might have said something else, but I tuned him out. Needing the exercise, I walked past the elevator and opted for the stairs. There was a roaring in my ears that I couldn't ignore. I tried to focus on the flight of stairs, but my mind kept on going back to the situation I was in. Bridgette was back in town. Fifth floor. Last night was a shit show. Fourth floor. I had a crush on Jason and he was definitely into Isabel. Third floor.

Last night was a shit show. I froze right on the landing of the second floor.

I screwed up so much. I had gotten some information, but at what cost? There was no undoing what had happened.

The tears came back but this time I couldn't stop them. There was no undoing last night and I had no one to talk to about it. I was alone. Whatever connections I had managed to form in these past few years meant nothing in this moment. Not even Jason.

Especially not Jason.

I lost all function of my legs as I collapsed to the floor.

Crouched down, I tried to stifle my sobs with my hands. I wanted to see Bridgette. I wish that she had come back sooner, that she never killed me, that we never had these stupid chips surgically implanted in our heads. I wanted to have my best friend back.

But as I was coming to learn, there are some things that you can never get back once you lose them.

~Bridgette~

Eggs were probably one of my least favorite food items. But just because I didn't like them didn't mean that I didn't recognize how important they were when making breakfast. As I watched the eggs cook and the potatoes begin to turn a golden brown, I called Bruce. I put my phone on speaker then I set it down on the counter.

I had gathered myself practically the moment I woke up after the night I spent with Riddler. Shame, guilt, and disgust all making the hangover I had feel so much worse. There was a part of my brain that simply refused to acknowledge just how many times we had engaged with each other. The other part kept telling me on repeat just how awful I was.

"I'm about to enter a meeting." The sound of Bruce's voice snapped me back to reality. Narrowing my eyes in concentration, I flipped the eggs as carefully as I could before doing the same to the potatoes.

"Bruce!" I chirped with false happiness. "I wanted to see if you knew of any way for me to install a security system in my apartment. I've been reminded of just how dangerous Gotham can be and I really don't want any unexpected guests waltzing into my space and catching sight of my private life. Ya know?"

There was a second of silence, "The building you're in is one of the most secure apartment buildings in Gotham. Wayne Industries owns it."

"Yes, well, I would like to have a little more security." The eggs had gotten perfectly brown and crispy around the edges, so I made my plate while I waited for Bruce's response.

"What you're asking for is some very expensive equipment."

I shrugged even though I knew he couldn't see it. "Then bill me. I already owe you so much already, this is like a drop in a bucket. Put me in your night shift rotation or something." I shook copious amounts of hot sauce on my eggs. It was both delicious and did a lot to make the eggs taste less eggy.

Dead silence.

So it was going to be like that? "Look, Bruce. The Riddler broke into my apartment the other day and I really don't want to move or for it to happen again. Can you please just help me get a better security system?"

There was a long sigh from the phone's speaker. "Fine. I'll get Lucius Fox to get something together for you."

I could feel some of the tension leave my shoulders. The last thing I wanted was another unexpected visit from the question mark favoring Rouge. I could not allow what happened last night to happen again. I just kept picturing Richard's face if he found out it happened. We weren't official in any capacity but I had seen the look on his face when a barista had tried to flirt with me when we were getting coffee one morning. He even refused to give the guy a tip when he handed us our coffee and Richard always left a tip.

"Thank you, Bruce." The sincerity in my voice was genuine as I dug into my breakfast, hoping that it would work a miracle and ease both my headache and queasy stomach.

I could hear the muffled sound of a voice coming through the other line, but I couldn't hear what the voice said. "I have to go. Your things will be delivered before the day is over. I'll let you know once I figure out how I will be asking for repayment."

Taking a moment to swallow my bite of food, I responded. "Wouldn't expect anything else, B-man"

"Don't call me that." The line went dead as he hung up.

I let a small smile form on my face, taking a little joy in being able to annoy him, even if it was just a little bit. I set about thoroughly cleaning the kitchen after I finished my meal, which had been a little helpful in making me feel somewhat less hungover. But it was the shower that I took that made me feel more human.

I spent the rest of the morning pretty much pacing my apartment, cleaning things that didn't need to be cleaned. Stretching and doing light training. Ordering furniture and decorations that I couldn't help myself from buying, rationalizing that I didn't know how long I would be in the city and at some point I was going to have to play the part of Katrina McCloud again.

I even spent some time glancing at articles about my dad. He was doing surprisingly well. After everything that happened he managed to get promoted to Captain Paige. It was good to know that the things happening with me were not entirely holding him back. I missed him so much but it was for the best that I stayed away.

The level of boredom that I was starting to feel left me opening and closing the contacts I had for both Richard and Riddler. A practice that I was not excited to go down. Deciding to take some action instead of wallowing, and chasing that empty feeling around my apartment, I went to put my suit on. I pulled my hair up into a bun allowing a couple silver strands to stay free to frame my face.

While it wasn't fully dark yet, the sun still hovering over the horizon, I didn't have any reservations about going out. I didn't really care if it was light or dark out as long as I had my suit and my mask. It was a feeling I likely got from my time working with individuals who didn't need the darkness to cover them. Cough. Batman. Cough.

Slipping out of the window in my bedroom I carefully scaled the building. It was a far cry from the clear air I had quickly grown to adore in Nanda Parbat but I had to admit there was a small sense of excitement I got from standing on top of one of Gotham's tall buildings.

I was struck with the desire to have someone by my side on this mostly aimless mission. But right now I had no one to ask, Richard was still occupied. Nyssa was doing God knows what now. Megan was still likely hating me. Hell, even Jason would be better than being alone. But I can only imagine how horrible that conversion would go.

It's fine though, I probably won't need backup tonight. I'm just doing some light work so that I can get out of my apartment and keep from making horrible texting decisions. What I was going to do, well, that was something I had yet to figure out.

Launching myself from rooftop to rooftop, I kept my eyes open and my lightning close to my fingertips in case anything did happen. But I couldn't keep my mind from wandering back to Megan.

I never even got to see how she reacted to what I said to her. Did she even believe what I said? I wanted to get back to the way things were so badly, but it was impossible. Our friendship had turned to brittle glass while we were in Arkham, and when I shot her, the glass shattered. It wasn't hard to figure out that broken glass can't be pieced back together. There were so many things I had wanted to talk to her about these last few years. Everytime I made progress with my powers or my fighting skills I wanted to tell Megan. And each time I was reminded that I was the reason she was no longer around. When things started happening between Richard and I, she was the first person I wanted to tell. What would she make of me being head over heels in love with Richard Grayson? Would she be upset? What would she say if I told her I slept with Riddler? What has she been up to? How has she managed?

I stepped up on the edge of a building across the street from the Royal Hotel, the sun finally having gone down as I watched cars come and go, loading and unloading passengers.

I still don't even know if I have fully processed the fact that she's here, alive somewhere in this city when for so long I was mourning her loss. There was still some sense of disbelief. Sometimes I wished that it was me who had died in her place. For a long time I had nightmares where I would wake up paralyzed in my bed unable to move as the overwhelming hopelessness washed over me. Each time it happened I watched that bullet go through Megan and the gush of blood. The shaking. The horror. The only thing that had stopped me from turning that gun on myself that night was the thought that I couldn't let Megan's last moments be witnessing something like that.

There was once a time when I relished the feel of a gun in my hand, loved the thrill of hitting a target right where I wanted to. Now, just seeing or hearing one made me feel sick. I didn't fear the weapon itself but I feared what I would do if I had one in my hands again.
I forced myself to swallow the bile that was starting to rise from the direction my thoughts were going. Focusing back on the flow of bodies in and out of the hotel I managed to catch sight of someone somewhat familiar. The skeevy and maybe slightly handsome face of the man Megan had been talking to at the Break the Ice party. He was flirting heavily with a woman with long blonde hair and a very short black dress.

It only took me a split second to make my decision. I raced back to my apartment, nearly breaking the window in the process as I changed. I grabbed a white pantsuit and at the last moment chose a short black wig with bangs over the beach wave blonde one I had been considering.

As I raced back down the stairs I nearly tripped, in too much of a hurry to wait for the elevator. The town car I called was already idling by the curb when I burst through the doors. I couldn't stop fidgeting as the car made its way back over to the Royal Hotel. It would have been so much faster taking the rooftops but that wasn't exactly appropriate in my attire.

Please. Please. Please still be flirting in the lobby. If they had gone up to a room I would have no way of figuring out where they went on such short notice. I had to force myself to take measured steps into the lobby and when I entered I caught sight of the same blonde laughing as she was led towards the elevators.

Picking up the pace I avoided bumping into anyone else, managing to slide into the elevator they were in just as the doors started to close. Instead of doing what any regular person would do and turn to face the doors I remained facing the couple. The woman looked slightly disappointed but the man had an annoyed frown on his face.

I furrowed my brows and put on my best distressed look while staring right at the man, "I've been waiting for you for half an hour! Did you forget we were supposed to have dinner?"

The blonde woman blinked rapidly, mouth falling open as she glanced back and forth between us.

"What?" The man snapped, his annoyance becoming more prominent.

Before I could respond the elevator doors swung open and the blond bolted, not sparing either of us a backwards glance as she fled. I slammed the close door button on the elevator and the button to the top floor in quick succession. Taking a second to shove the man against the back of the elevator when he attempted to chase after his would be conquest.

"Now, what's your name and what were you doing with that woman at the Break the Ice party?"

The man let out a derisive laugh and attempted to push past me. I grabbed his arm and slammed him face first into the elevator wall. "Ow, what the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Answer the question or I start breaking fingers." I hissed, grabbing his index finger and pushing it back until he let out a yelp.

Stop.

"My name is Sebastien Mallory, you bitch. Now, I suggest you let me go or I promise you'll regret it."

I let out a laugh before pushing him harder against the wall, ignoring the voice. "Oh Sebastien I think you'll regret not answering my question even more."

Let go of him now.

I ground my teeth against each other. "What were you doing with her?" I asked, grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulling. Sebastien let out an undignified squeal.

"I was flirting with her, you fucking lunatic. Getting myself laid, something you seem to be in need of."

Did Megan leave with him? I didn't think to look to see how long she was there after my confession. Didn't even think about watching to see if they left the Iceberg Lounge together.

It wasn't any of my business what Megan did in her personal life. Not anymore. But...this guy, he was bad news and just being near him gave me a weird feeling.

This ends now.

The elevator opened and against my will I grabbed Sebastien by the collar and tossed him out onto the floor. I only got a second to watch him try to scramble back up to his feet as the doors closed once again.

"What the hell?" I clenched my fist and with a single strike left a dent in the pristine silver elevator wall. "What are you doing?"

What you were doing was dangerous.

"Dangerous? You stop me from talking to that creep but Megan was allowed to hang around him for who knows how long?"

That was different.

"How?" My voice was sharp, dangerous.

Megan was being cautious, you simply threw yourself into a situation without thinking about the consequences.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, bending forward as I tried to catch the breath I didn't know I had lost. "I'm trying to get answers, because it seems like it's been decided that I will be kept in the dark. I want some answers! For once can I just get some answers?" I wanted to scream, to blast my way out of the elevator and take down anyone who crossed my path. I was so sick of being left out of things. So tired of being the one left out, watching from the fringes, the one who was the secret. Being deliberately fooled into thinking Megan was dead.

He's important. That's all I can tell you.

If it was possible the voice had become softer, more sympathetic. It just didn't do anything to quell my frustration. I just wanted to know something about Megan, who she had become. If she had been hanging around him and Lacie was now talking to me, I didn't doubt that he had some semblance of importance.

I didn't need the warning to know that if I didn't leave Sebastien Mallory alone tonight, I would be forced to go back to my apartment. There was no way I was going to deliberately make the choice to allow that to happen again. I was aware of the irony of me giving in and doing the thing expected of me in the interest of not being made to do the exact same thing.

So, I walked dejectedly back to my new place of residence, secretly hoping that someone would attack me. Give me a chance to take out my frustration. For once I was counting on the city living up to its reputation, but I guess I was hoping too hard and I returned to the apartment building with no significant incidents. Well, unless I counted a large rat almost tripping me to be significant.

When I opened the door to my apartment I found some heavy tech carefully placed across my counter. Cameras, motion detectors, little microphones, and some other pieces I couldn't identify by sight. There were detailed directions on hookup and installation along with a phone number in case I needed help. I was so excited about getting started setting up the security system that I almost missed the pristine gold envelope.

It was addressed to Katrina McCloud. My eyes skimmed over the formal language of the invitation. Seems I've been invited to a charity auction in the Wayne family penthouse next week.

-Megan-

I locked myself in my bedroom, trying to shut out the rest of the world. If only there was a way that I could hide even from myself. Not that long ago, being alone used to terrify me. There's a reason why my sanity took a steep nosedive during my solitary confinement at Arkham. But now being alone oftentimes the only way that I felt safe.

The first day I had actually tried to be productive.

Using my powers, I was able to access Sebastien's computer through the hacking device. It gave me a distinct signature to trace in the city and easier access than if I just tried to break in using my powers alone.

One thing that I was grateful for was the meticulous organization of his files. A lot of them were locked behind multiple access points, but I was able to breeze through all of them. He was a very busy boy, it seemed like he worked on a minimum of four projects at a time. At first I tried to use the keyword chip to see if that would give me my results faster, but unfortunately advanced chips seemed to be a Luthor Technologies specialty. Even if Sebastien wasn't involved in what seemed like over 99% of them, I still was able to see records of them stored in the extensive databases.

This may be more difficult than I had originally anticipated. I was starting to develop a headache from the search. While I could sense that Sebastien's laptop was still in the city, it was definitely far past the original limits of my power.

Thankfully I was able to discover something called Project Metamorphosis. It involved chips that once implanted into a person's head, could make the controller do whatever they wanted with the person. They could also produce powers, push the human body past its natural limits, and even bring someone back from the dead.

There was no way that they could be anything but the chips in me and Bridgette's heads. This was the first real lead that I felt like I've ever gotten, ever. Maybe it really was possible to get to the bottom of this and become free.

Unfortunately though, Sebastien was only involved in the recruiting investors part of the project. Making sure that the investors stayed happy so that the money kept flowing. I couldn't find out who was in charge of the project, or even who else worked for it.

He had spoken about some girl from Gotham being interested in his position though. If this was Lacie, I could maybe do something with that.

I tried looking for the terms "Gotham", "girl", or "woman" on his laptop. The first result was an email that he sent that morning. It was the most recent in a decent sized chain between him and someone else.

Subject Line: Iceberg Slut. Body: Yeah, at first she was real skittish when we got back to my hotel. But once I gave her some Wanderlust, let me tell you, she was pretty freaky-

I instantly stopped my search, feeling sick to my stomach.

Even though I had taken an hour-long shower once I got home, I was back to feeling dirty all over again.

The urge to cry came over me and I went to my bed, where I hid underneath a mountain of blankets. In that little cave of my own creation, I felt like nobody could touch me. For the next three days, I didn't move from my bed. I couldn't.

The effort that it took to take a shower, brush my teeth, or even eat seemed like too much. I couldn't even find the energy to get up and pee. Most of the days were lost to sleep, which were often plagued by nightmares. But for a little moment there, before my brain started imagining something to pass the time, I could be asleep and think of nothing at all. Not even be aware of me being alive. If I could just get some more time in that space, maybe I would be able to exist again. But until then, I was restlessly chasing after a type of sleep that gradually became more and more elusive.

The first day I had made sure to call out for work, but the other two I couldn't be bothered. My powers alerted me to all sorts of missed texts and calls: from work, to Alfred updating on the progress of installing my painting for the auction, to Lucius asking me where I was, to Jason worrying if I was okay. But I couldn't even look at my phone screen to respond to any of them.

Different people knocked on my door, and thankfully always ended up leaving after I refused to answer.

It wasn't like I wanted to die. Suicidal ideation certainly loses its appeal once you find out that you can always just be brought back from the dead. But I didn't want to exist at all. If I could go back to the time before I was born, then I could stop my life and make sure that none of this ever happened. I wouldn't be in pain anymore. I would just be nothing.

Imagining what it would be like in the future was terrifying. Every single heartbreak that I've suffered, every trauma that I've gone through, seems to hurt just as much now as it did then. I still mourned the loss of my friend Emily and wished that I could see her. I still missed Cam and wished that he didn't become distant from me once I got arrested and went to Arkham. I still hated how the Hatter treated me while I was there and all the things that he wanted to do to me. I still regretted how I treated Derek and wished that I could apologize to him and have him believe me. And I could still feel the agony of being killed and brought back to life, only to find that my best friend was no longer by my side.

What is life except for accumulating more and more sorrow until your body can't handle it anymore and you die? It sounded so exhausting. I didn't want to feel this way for the rest of my life, and just be expected to suck it up.

A lot of the time I cried into my pillow, feeling dirty, used, and thoroughly stupid. But there was a deep sadness that the crying only seemed to barely chip away at bit by bit. It never seemed to be enough.

It was so hot beneath these blankets. I wanted to bathe, and eat, and finally pee. But I couldn't. Thankfully, I stopped bleeding sometime during the third day.

Later on, I could hear somebody unlocking my door and getting through the security system. I knew that it was Jason, I could sense his cellphone on him.

I wanted to see Jason so bad. But I didn't want him to see me like this.

He entered my room and I could hear him sigh. "I could have been a robber trying to break in and kill you. Were you just going to remain glued to your bed like that?"

Of course he would know that I'm here, despite all of the blankets that I'm buried under.

"I knew that it was you," I said, then peeked my eyes out through a tiny gap. "How were you able to get in?"

"I'm the Red Hood. I know how to break into places."

"So much for the stellar apartment security, then," I said, and then closed the gap in the blankets again, blocking him from sight.

"Megan, look."

Hearing him say my name was such a relief. It never sounded prettier than when he said it. Most of the time he could only address me by my alter egos, so I suppose that I was so pleasantly surprised that I didn't notice him coming closer until I could feel him sitting on my bed.

I held my breath. Having him on my bed never used to affect me like this before, but that was back when I was better at ignoring my feelings. Now they were all that I could think about.

"I know that you're going through something. That something happened and your way of coping is by shutting everyone out. But you don't have to do that. There are so many people that you could turn to for help - we want to help you."

Perhaps he was telling the truth, but I couldn't think about who I could turn to about this. Once upon a time it would have been Bridgette that I went to the moment something went wrong, but that was long ago.

I couldn't tell anyone about how I was feeling. It was too embarrassing. So instead I said, "Thanks, but I'm fine. It's just a cold."

"I don't know why you bother lying to me when you know that I can always see through you."

"Then I don't know why you bother when you know that I'm going to lie to you."

I could feel his weight shift on the bed as he took in a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't go with you for the Break the Ice event and I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when you came over. But if you're pissed with me, just say it."

"I'm not pissed with you!" my voice raised in volume. Before I even fully registered what I was thinking, I was sitting up, flinging the blankets off of me as the words tumbled out of my mouth, "Why don't you go bother Isabel instead of me?"

Immediately after I said it, I regretted it. The surprised look on his face made me regret it even more.

"I really am sorry... If I had known that you were coming over, I would have-" he stopped, seeming unsure what to say.

What? He wouldn't have slept with her? This was why I tried to pretend that I didn't have a crush on him for so long, I didn't like this ugly sense of jealousy inside of me. Of course he was allowed to hook up with whoever he wanted to whenever he wanted to, but I couldn't deny that it hurt.

"Don't," I closed my eyes as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. You really don't need to apologize to me."

"You're really scaring me. I haven't seen you act like this in a long time."

I opened my eyes and looked at him. The look of worry on his face reminded me of when Lacie had brought me back to Gotham and unceremoniously dropped me off in front of Wayne Manor. How everyone had been so relieved, including Jason, but the undeniable look of worry was on his face as he pulled me in for a hug. I was always going to be a project to him. Someone to worry after.

Why couldn't I get it together?

"I don't want to scare you, I just..." I could feel myself wanting to cry all over again. "I just feel so trapped."

"But I thought that it was getting better. Didn't you get the information that you need?"

It was all that I could do to press my lips together and shake my head. The information that I got was nowhere near enough to offset this pain that I was feeling. If I opened my mouth, all of what I was feeling might come tumbling out.

"I'll try not to push you on this any further, but if you can't tell me, can you promise to tell someone at least? You can't keep this all to yourself."

At that, I couldn't help but to bitterly laugh. Who exactly did he have in mind? If I couldn't trust him with this, who in the world would I turn to instead?

He frowned and tilted his head at me. "Fine. If you can't promise that, can you at least promise to show up to the charity auction tomorrow?"

"I already said that I was going," I said, annoyed.

"Yeah, but that was before you went completely radio silent on everyone for three days. Obviously things have changed."

I sighed. I really didn't want to go anymore. The idea of having to be the impeccably put together Liza was something that made me extremely uncomfortable. But I had already said that I would go, and with Jason looking at me like that... "I promise I'll be there."

"Good. That's some progress," he said and stood up. "I'll go ahead and leave then. Make sure to take a shower tomorrow. You kind of stink," he said, pushing against my forehead as he walked out of my room.

"Jerk! You can't just break into someone's home and insult them while you're there."

"I'm just calling it like I see it," he called back.

Once I could hear him close the door and sense him walk away, I shook my head. Of course he could only be supportive for so long before he went back to the teasing.

So tomorrow I'll have to pull myself together enough to fool the Gotham elite. Tomorrow I'll have to be a human again. I looked up at the ceiling and groaned. Before I had even left my bed, I was missing the solitude of it.

~Bridgette~

The days had passed by in a blurr. I had spent a lot of time meandering through setting up my new security system. I was more adept at destroying technology than coaxing it to work, which means the phone number I had been given was a lifesaver when at one point I was about to fry the camera I was trying to set up in a corner of the kitchen.

James was the guy who had talked me through my tech crisis, and I liked to think we had become buddies after having talked so much over the last few days. He was convinced that Richard couldn't be too mad at me for sleeping with another guy since he refused to put a label on our relationship. And that I had to be patient with Megan and forcing things with her would be more harmful than helpful. James told me to just be me, trying to force our friendship back isn't something I could do.

While I had omitted some details and changed some names I figured there was some value in what James had said. But since I couldn't give him the whole story I would take what he said with a grain of salt.

I had taken great care in choosing the wig for tonight. I was making my first official appearance into Gotham society as Katrina McCloud after years. Whatever I chose I would probably have to wear the most often, so it was something I had to be at least somewhat happy with. I would love to never wear a wig ever again. I had come to like my long silver hair and sometimes I just wanted to show it off. But the only time I could do that was when I went out as Blitz or if I was around people who knew I was Blitz.

Gently running my fingers through the shoulder-length auburn hair, I made sure that the gentle curls were in place and the surprisingly realistic wig didn't reveal any strands of silver. I had gone with subtle winged eyeliner paired with light peach colored lipstick. My eyeshadow had been meticulously matched with the dress I had picked out just yesterday and I was satisfied with the look even though I was nervous to attend the event.

My phone dinged with a text message and I walked over to it to find a text from Richard.

I can't wait to see you tonight. Maybe we can sneak away later ;)

My stomach gave a little flip-flop. I felt silly getting so excited over a text, but it was like an automatic response anytime I got a message from him. He had called me a couple days ago telling me that he would be back in Gotham soon. The guilt I had felt was like an insurmountable brick wall. The first thing I thought about was the sound of ripping fabric when Richard said he had been struggling to keep from leaving Bludhaven before his business was done.

He had sounded so worried when he asked about seeing Megan again. I had successfully dodged the question over the phone by telling him about the fight I had with Jason upon arriving in Gotham. Suffice to say he was disappointed in the both of us, and I got a lecture about acting more professional, but his tone softened a little when I reminded him Jason was the instigator.

I just hoped that he didn't adopt that unrelenting look of panic when I saw him tonight. I had to do my best to show him that seeing her wasn't affecting me the exact way he was worried about. It was like so much of the progress I'd made over the years trying to come to terms with what I had done, had been reversed. I never forgave myself but I had managed to get rid of the thoughts of joining her.

Now I wasn't so sure I could even say that anymore.

The gaping emptiness inside pressed against its confines and I stood there for a few minutes trying to keep it from consuming me. I was the one who did the unspeakable I shouldn't even be feeling this way. Before I got caught up in feeling bad for myself I shoved the feeling into its little box and went to get dressed.

It wasn't the style of dress I usually went with but something about it just caught my eye. It was pink. With cute little pink flowers making up the bodice, and a silky pink ribbon separating the bodice from the skirt. The fabric seemed to bloom out from the ribbon, the layers of the skirt dotted with more little flowers making it seem like each was floating. Wearing it made me feel softer than I was and made my skin seem brighter. I had to do something to counteract that bleak emptiness I was trying so hard to keep from consuming me again.

Katrina McCloud was to be the picture of soft femininity. Ambitious but demure. I wanted to play a role I had never been able to occupy.

This was the first time that I had ever been in the Wayne penthouse. Everything about the decorations was nearly perfect. The strings of lights hanging from the ceilings to the white tablecloths, and the gold accents. I had arrived alone. I had hoped that Richard would offer to meet me outside or escort me to the event but he didn't and I wasn't going to ask. As I looked around I felt entirely out of my element. I fiddled with the earrings dangling from my ears and the bracelets around my wrists.

Normally, I don't bother with jewelry because they were tedious and when I had my suit on they could only serve to help identify me. Tonight though, the urge to look my best had won, especially since Katrina McCloud would never be caught without accessorizing. So, when I got my dress I couldn't resist getting the jewelry too.

I felt insignificant and small as I eased my way around knots of businessmen, politicians, and Gotham's wealthy elite. My eyes searched out for a face that I recognized and when they finally landed on one, it was definitely not the one I had expected.

The sight of her face brought an unexpected well of panic and hope to fill my chest. For a second I thought that it was real. I mean if Megan came back why couldn't she? The two shaky steps that I managed to take forward cleared the mental fog when I realized it wasn't Emily I was seeing but simply a painting of her. My hand went to cover my mouth as the painter's name came into view.

Eliza McCloud. All I could see was the painting. A high pitched whine seemed to fill my ears seconds before one of the strands of lights near me flared brighter before the delicate little bulbs exploded. I flinched as the sounds of gasping and a startled shout came from the people around me. Pressing my nails into my palms I struggled to reign in the surge of power that had unexpectedly flared before any more lights exploded. My eyes remained trained on the painting as a few people working the event rushed to calm the startled guests and quickly and efficiently picked up the shattered remains of the lightbulbs.

It was a near perfect rendition of her. The beautiful blonde hair draped delicately over her shoulder. The blue eyes filled with calculating precision, lips curved up in a small but inviting smile. The sight of it left me breathless, it had been so long since I had seen her face that I had nearly forgotten what she looked like. How Megan could achieve such detail of Emily's face was astounding.

I was filled with a desperation to return to the ease of our friendship. The simplicity of our lives when it was just the three of us and my biggest concern was wondering if Cam would ever look at me the way he looked at Emily. So desperately, I wanted to go back to before everything started to crumble. The intensity of my wish left me feeling a little resentful of Megan for doing the painting in the first place. Reminding me of Emily made me feel like I was drowning.

Twisting my body around I turned from the picture. I couldn't look at it any more. As I tried to regain my composure I caught sight of Richard. For a second, I felt relief fill me. Richard could make it better. I could ask him to take me to a dark corner so he could comfort me for a moment so I could gather myself.

When the crowd parted though I saw that his attention was focused on a beautiful red-haired girl with glasses that framed her face perfectly. Barbara Gordon.

The relief I felt dissolved as I watched them interact. Self-consciously I reached up to touch the auburn wig I wore. Next to her I would look like some kind of grotesque impostor.

The ease at which they talked and how relaxed they were with each other made my cheeks get hot with jealousy. Which was entirely stupid considering that talking is so much more innocent that what I had done. I had met Barbara before when we were younger, since our dads were in the same line of work it had been kind of impossible to not interact with her on some level. We had been polite with each other but we never seemed to be able to form a friendship. There was something about her that intimidated me a little bit.

The way they looked at each other was achingly familiar, as Richard leaned down slightly to be closer to her in her wheelchair and Barbara tilted her head up. They looked perfect together. The beautiful shining couple. I wanted to hurl myself out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Richard turned his head eyes locking with mine for a second, small smile forming on his lips but before he could wave me over or anything else that would result in me having to be in his immediate vicinity, I edged behind a larger man and tried to lose myself in the crowd, making my way to the door. I shouldn't be here.

As I attempted a cowardly exit I nearly collided with none other than Jason Todd. Oh, shit. This can't get any worse could it? The shocked malice that filled his eyes was immediate as his arms came up to cross against his chest. I shouldered past him, I couldn't do this right now. The walls felt like they were closing in around me. What a horrible idea to accept this invitation.

My hasty exit was interrupted by a hand on my arm and an overly friendly voice. "Katrina McCloud! I didn't know you would be here tonight. How wonderful." Would anyone notice if I sent him sprawling on the floor, unconscious? My eyes strayed towards the door.

It was obvious that this guy was a reporter, "I was just-"

"Oh, look! I see your sister walking in. Fashionably late too. Let's go greet her, I have some questions I would like to ask you both."

No, no, no, no. I looked around slightly to see Megan. A carefully schooled calm look on her face. To most other people she would look the picture of serenity, but I could tell by the way her lips pressed together slightly and the slight crease between her brows that she was faking. I can tell she's pretending. I wanted to talk to her so badly but I was probably the last person she wanted to , I seemed to have no choice but to let the reporter drag me forward towards her. There were too many people around for me to make any kind of escape.

I should have stayed home.