Hatred Never Looked This Good (Young Justice) [1/3]

2 | Sanctuary

I won't let it go
I'll stick to the plan
Now we're deep in the throes

Team Year Six
WATCHTOWER
Jul 7, 13:20

The horrible itching woke me up. The familiar itch inside of my bones. Panicked, I opened my glowing red eyes and instantly closed them from the bright light of the room.

"Computer, dim lights." The female voice was all too familiar and I sighed in defeat.

Home, sweet home.

I felt the itching again and tried to pull my arms up only to find I was held down by completely pointless straps.

Well, maybe more 'Prison, sweet prison'.

"Do you know where you are?" I relaxed my eyes enough to see Black Canary sat on the opposite side of the glass wall of my room/cell. My eyes rolled slightly at the sight of my former trainer and denmother.

She wasn't here to check on me. She was here to interrogate me.

"The Watchtower," I croaked and pain shot through my body. In a twisted sense of relief, I saw that the source of my itching were the casts and soft splints hugging my body. "How did I survive the Light's attack?"

"Because you are a very lucky young woman," she said. I scoffed as the early morning of July 5th played in my head. "You came to us in very bad shape. Atom has been working on you with some new technology while you sleep to help you heal quicker. Otherwise, you'd be in that bed for months. You've only been here a few days but you still have a way to go."

"And then what, B.C.?" I said quietly. "A big group hug for the lost lamb? Maybe a luau in my honor? Give me a break."

"We are taking a very big risk taking a member of the Light in." I looked at the ceiling above me fighting my to keep my anger subdued over the latest betrayal. "But that's why you called on us, isn't it? You knew you had friends here. Friends you knew that would keep you safe, no matter your history."

"Any port in a storm I guess," I deflected. "I know what you're doing, B.C. Trying to gain my trust? Sorry, I'm fresh out of trust and patience. So, what are the conditions for my taking of your hospitality? Besides being restrained."

I knew they wanted to know the Light's plan. They wanted to know where the Warworld was going. The Light was dismantled and had turned on their own, but I'd be damned if it was my mouth that would sink our ship and in our circles, I could very truly be damned.

"No condition. We don't operate like that. And those restraints are there to protect you... and us."

"Ah, the penny drops."

Black Canary's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you'd be more willing to speak to someone else. Like Aqualad?" I ignored her bait. "Or maybe Batman?"

My eyes burned bright red and my temperature soared. A foam sprayed from the ceiling above me instantly cooling me and melting away. I laid on the bed, completely unenthused.

"Really?"

"Necessary precautions. I'm sorry, Jet."

"That is NOT my name," I snarled. The quiet hum of the machines monitoring me filled our silence.

"I'm sorry. Habit." An awkward silence grew again. "I have to ask, was Lex Luthor behind your attack? Did he hurt you?"

"Get out." I clenched my jaw as my temperature began to climb. She stood up and sighed.

"Keep your temp below 200°. You'll get sprayed again."

I laid staring at the tiles as she walked out wondering how everything went so wrong. My mind began critically judging all of my decisions, all of my turning points. Joining the Light after Batman's betrayal, becoming Jet Starling, setting fire to my foster parents' house. Then I began to wonder if it was in my bones to be who I am. Maybe my parents were to blame for starting my life the way it did.

---

I was an orphan. Not like Bruce or Dick. No one murdered my family. At least not directly. Drugs tore my family apart and as the taxpayer can attest, that war isn't ending just because a girl has a score to settle.

I spent my younger years in a children's home. Why no one adopted a sweet baby is beyond me. There were too many lonely cries and too few warm nurseries. After a few years of basically being one in hundreds, I was sent to foster homes.

I don't remember how many homes I passed through. Some were great but the older you get, the more clashes there are with the other kids. It's just easier on the foster parents to just send the puberty riddled teen somewhere else.

I don't blame them. It had to have been hard. But I do carry a grudge for the ones who only used me and my kids for the money--namely Miss Patty and Mark.

When I turned eighteen, I was on my own but the other kids needed me. They were neglected and needed someone to look out for them. I wasn't allowed near the house and GCPD wasn't going to save them, so I set a fire.

My kids were all taken to new, living homes but I was wanted for the arson. Broke and homeless, I walked the streets of Gotham. Not an easy feat for anyone, let alone, a young woman.

Then, Bruce saved me. He wanted nothing from me. He gained nothing from me. He introduced me to his secret life and I excitedly became one of Gotham's heroes.

And I had a family.

I wouldn't say Bruce was like my father but I did admire him for saving Grayson and me. I did my best to impress Bruce but I paled next to Mini-Bruce.

I butted heads with Batman on everything. Yes, I obeyed his commands and followed his rules in solo missions but I didn't agree with it. It seemed every villain we put in Arkham, three more would escape or be pardoned. Even when we would join forces with the League, I could only bite my tongue as we came toe to toe with enemies like Lex Luthor or Vandal and let them live.

But on our good days...

Mornings smelled of English Breakfast prepared perfectly--if a bit soggy for my liking--by Alfred who was always so proud to show me his British background. Bruce would come in after--tired--but wanting to set a good example. On days I felt he needed cheering up, I'd wear a pink Batman shirt and announce to the dining room while I stood on my chair:
"I am vengeance. I am the night."

Without fail, the chair would be kicked from under me. Of course, we didn't stop there and so began an early fight training session in the kitchen. Then, Alfred would pretend to scold us while secretly congratulating me for winning by giving me extra bacon.

Oh, I loved Alfred. I'd follow him around in my free time asking about England and he loved the company. I think he sometimes got lonely in that big mansion when we were all gone so he held a special place in my heart.

Even Dick and Barbara were special to me in their own ways. Barbara and I butted heads often but not over Dick, much to his dismay. Mostly it was how she coded differently than me so we could never work together for long without getting in an all out screaming match.

Then there was Jason. My Jason. My biggest regret.

I should've killed the Joker and quit being Jet Starling. I had two chances to kill the psycho and I let both of them slip from my fingers. If I would have just killed him, then I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have become a part of the Light and I'd never have felt all of this pain.