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GOTHAM WELCOMES HER BACK WITH A WARM EMBRACE, THICK TENDRILS OF DARKNESS WRAPPING THEIR WAY AROUND HER HEART AND MAKING IT HOME. The city that she was raised in, the city that haunts her nightmares, has not changed in the years since she left; the grime still coats the streets like a second skin, the people still cower away in fear and the rot still continues to spread.
There's one noticeable difference: Dick Grayson. He was like Gotham to her, always haunted, always dragged down by his past, but as he leads her into Wayne Manor, there's a lightness about him that she recognizes, that stings her with its familiarity.
She doesn't like this, any of it. Being in Wayne Manor brings back far too many memories and all of them are so sweet, so good, that it feels like lightning across her heart, and she's scared that if she turns the corner, she might expect to see a face that's long since gone.
Wayne Manor has been a tomb long before Reyna was even born, but that hasn't stopped her adding her own ghosts, those flickers of the past with claws of steel that seek to destroy her at the slightest provocation.
"This team", Reyna says. There's an element of distraction at play here, but Reyna's thinking, what would have happened if he lived? Would she have joined this team before now, would she have been one of its founding members? There's a tantalizing what-if there, a rabbit hole of epic proportions just waiting for her to get in. "How did you meet?"
"We, uh, we killed Satan", he answers. "It was a thing."
"Oh." There's not much left for her to say in response to that, is there? We killed Satan... they've got a Kryptonian. It shouldn't come as a surprise when they pull off amazing feats.
"You'll like them", he promises. "I know you will."
But Reyna knows all about empty promises and she will not fall for another one. This, her being here, is some form of repayment, settling a debt as old as her guilt. There's no kindness in her presence, no softness ━━ just the fire that always sizzles beneath her skin.
She doesn't tend to get along with people. She doesn't let herself. There is a fire within her, a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off, and she will not have anybody else caught in its explosion.
"Conner's excited to meet you", he says, the winding halls of Wayne Manor falling behind them. "Superman's been... busy, lately. Hasn't had time to check in with him."
Busy, is one way to put it. A polite way to put recent events. "Connor is the Kryptonian?"
"Half", he corrects, "but between the two of you, we've got a full one."
She doesn't bother to smile at his poor attempt at humour. There's something like respect in that, in her refusal to play her role. The fool, the fool, always the fool, the only one that didn't feel the embers beneath her skin, the only one that didn't see the end as it began. She's always pretending, playing the part of something she's not, with every spoken word.
So, yes, it's something like respect when she doesn't laugh. He's earned that, at the very least.
There's a question bubbling in the back of her throat that can't help but make its way to the forefront. "Why me?" Reyna asks. "Why now?"
The laidback expression he's been wearing since they arrived in Gotham falls away, just for a moment. Dick Grayson has always been a spectacular actor, but his eyes, show a glimpse of his soul. Every other feature of his will be perfectly moulded, but when Reyna looks into his eyes, she'll see the truth.
"We know Zod has sleeper agents", he says, "and we think one is in Gotham."
There's hope in that. Hope and hatred, wrapping around each like vines, ivy creeping up the walls of her heart and into the soft tissue within.
General Zod and his zealots, his Sword of Rao. Like he understands their god ━━ like they have a god that listens to their prayers. Every whispered word goes astray, every hopeless act sent into a great abyss. Here's the secret of Rao, the truth of the sun: he doesn't care. They are ants to him and any time he gets here, any time he comes close, tragedy incites.
She is living proof of that.
Cain kills Abel and the sun relishes in his triumph. Cain kills Abel and Cain spends years trying to repeat the same mistake on herself, all in the name of vengeance against an uncaring god.
Those monsters he's hidden around the world, tucked away into its darkest corners, are slowly being forced into the light, the likes of Superman and his cousin leading the charge. They will be forced into the sunlight that they so desperately crave and Reyna will be there, ready to deliver swift justice.
"I see", she says slowly. Cain kills Abel; Cain kills everyone else. "Do you have any leads?"
"A few", he admits, "but you know these people better than I do."
She won't argue with him there. "And... Conner. He's Superman's son...?"
Dick winces, pushing open a door. "Clone, actually. It's a long story."
She has a feeling that everything with this team is.
Her first look only cements that feeling. There are more of them than she'd expected; a few that she remembers, in the form of Hank Hall and Dawn Granger, one that is so clearly Conner, the sculpting of his face too similar to Kal El for him to be anyone else.
Two teenagers, ones with blue-black hair and the other with a shock of green, are huddled together on the couch, muttering conspiracy about whatever it is that's on their phone screen. A woman, tall and strong, watching them with abject fondness.
Someone closer to Reyna's age is staring at her. White hair and an eye patch meet her gaze, pink lips curling into a smirk.
"So, what can she do?" She says. There's a challenge in her words, hidden in the tilting of her mouth, that Reyna can't help but rise to.
Words are weapons to be dealt out with care, but Reyna can be a reckless soul. "More than you could ever imagine."
And the way that one eye meets her gaze, steady and unflinching, the way those lips twist into the perfect picture of indifference ━━ maybe there is a respect in that, too. In Rose Wilson and her razor-sharp soul, vicious and violent and beautiful.
(But violent delights are prone to violent ends ━━ and Reyna is already so soaked in savagery).
