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'Psychologically speaking, vengeance rarely brings the catharsis we hope for.'
At the time Helena had brushed it off. They'd had more pressing matters to take care of, like getting out of the amusement park alive (and preferably in one piece, too).
However, it was no longer a life or death situation. The adrenaline and thrill of the chase had worn off long since, leaving Helena feeling empty and numb.
Purposeless.
Helena dangled her legs over the edge of the roof where she sat, observing the city below her like a hawk zooming in on its target. Tonight, Helena didn't have a target. Her mission was complete. She was done. Victor Zsasz had been the last one on that list of hers, and now he was dead. Helena was officially done.
Tiny dots of light spread around Gotham's streets like stars in the sky, illuminating pathways like little geometric constellations. You couldn't see the real night sky here. The light pollution was too strong, and even without it the air quality wasn't the clearest.
In Sicily, you could actually see the stars. Helena had always found a strange sort of comfort in them — they were so far away, completely out of her reach. They made Helena feel small and insignificant, like she didn't have the weight of the world, the weight of her mission, on her shoulders.
Now, looking at the city below, Helena felt much the same way.
It was over. She was done.
Helena's eyes bored into the view, the streetlights beginning to blur and dance across her eyes as the wind blew her hair.
Slowly, like in a trance, Helena removed her crossbow from its holster and tossed it aside. It had served her well, a trusted companion, but she wouldn't be needing it anymore.
This was the one journey Helena had to take on her own.
Next were the knives Helena had hidden all over her body and clothes. It felt good to let them go, to hear them drop against the rooftop with a metallic clatter. She felt lighter with each drop, lighter in more ways than one.
She felt ready.
As Helena leaned her body over the edge, feeling the wind pick up against her face, she allowed herself to close her eyes. For as long as Helena could remember, she'd kept her eye out for danger, for her next target. For anything and everything.
Now, it was finally her time to rest. The thought made Helena's throat close, made her eyes burn with tears of relief. It was her time to rest.
Soon, she'd get to see her family again, to let out the breath she'd been holding since the moment of the first gunshot. She'd get to relax in her mother's arms and to drift away, left behind no more.
The wind was picking up, and everything else seemed to melt away. It was just her, the wind, and the big drop before her. She was ready.
"Whatcha thinking about?"
The warm, melodic voice startled Helena and she flipped around, one hand reaching for her crossbow that wasn't there anymore. Oh. Right.
Helena looked up to see Dinah walk up to her. She was still wearing the same outfit from before, not that she'd had much time to change. They had migrated to Renee's apartment after Harley stole Dinah's car, and they had pretty much just drunk and reminisced about their crazy night. Helena wasn't sure why she'd agreed to join them — she didn't exactly do this sort of stuff — but the assassin had to admit she didn't hate it.
Now, though, Dinah was here for some reason. What was she doing on the rooftop with Helena?
"H- how'd you know I was here?" Helena managed with a confused expression. She winced at the way her voice cracked from disuse.
"I didn't," the blonde replied truthfully as she sat next to Helena, her legs crossed. "I came out here for a smoke," she continued with an easy smile, picking up the cigarette from behind her ear as if to make her point.
Something in that statement made Helena feel a pang of something that was awfully close to disappointment which really — why would she even feel disappointed over the fact that Dinah hadn't been looking for her? They had known each other for about twenty-four hours. Besides, Helena hadn’t wanted to be found in the first place.
Dinah, however, clearly misinterpreted Helena’s frown as a look of disapproval.
"Don’t give me that face. I know I shouldn’t and that it’s bad for you and yada yada. I’ve actually tried to quit smoking for a while now,” the songbird revealed, nodding at her bicep where Helena noticed what had to be more than a healthy amount of nicotine patches. Not knowing how to react, as Helena’s extensive training hadn’t included small-talk, the brunette just made a vague noise in the back of her throat and hoped that would be enough.
“It’s just been a really stressful twenty-four hours, yeah? I deserve this one,” Dinah concluded. It sounded like she was trying to convince someone, maybe herself more than Helena who was stuck on looking at Dinah and her beautiful dark eyes and the smooth curve of her lips and the golden rings on her long blonde hair and really? Helena was just thoroughly distracted now, completely forgetting that she was probably supposed to respond in some way or another. Or at the very least not appear as though she was staring – which she very much was.
It seemed that Dinah took Helena’s silence as an answer of its own yet again because she let out a sigh and tossed the cigarette away. Helena watched the unused smoke fall to the city below, becoming so small so quick that she lost the track of it.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t do it,” Dinah agreed even though Helena had still yet to say anything. It was more than a little bewildering to witness a whole conversation unfold in front of her very eyes – a conversation she was a part of, no less – without saying a word herself. Still, Dinah throwing the cigarette away suddenly reminded Helena of why she was on the roof in the first place, and somehow that realisation made Helena feel… something. She didn’t have the word for it, but it was something complicated and conflicted.
“…Helena?” Dinah’s voice brought the brunette back to reality like a hand reaching out and pulling her to the surface from underwater.
“Yes?” the assassin squeaked a little too fast and high-pitched to sound casual, her eyes flicking back up to meet Dinah’s soft ones. And oh, there was just something so captivating about the songstress’ gaze. Helena felt locked in place, and instead of the city below whispering and tempting her, it was now Dinah who Helena wanted to gravitate towards. Fuck, how could one person be that gorgeous? That skilled? Compassionate? And did she even mention gorgeous?
“Why are all your weapons scattered on the roof like that?”
“I—what?” Helena blinked, taken aback by the question. What was Dinah talking about? Oh, right, the weapons. What could she even say to that, really? Quick, think of something…
“I… uh, was… I was polishing them,” Helena tried, hoping to sound believable despite her obvious stammering. To her surprise, Dinah burst out laughing, rich and genuine. Had she said something funny?
“Polishing? It’s almost midnight and you’re out here, on the roof of an apartment building, polishing your knives?” Dinah asked amusedly, eyes twinkling from her smile in a way that made Helena’s stomach knot. “You amaze me, Crossbow,” the blonde chuckled before turning to look at the view in front of them, the smile still plastered on her face.
Helena’s throat was left dry by the exchange. There she was, simply staring at Dinah’s smiling profile with confusion written all over her face, confusion and awe. Helena still didn’t understand what had been so funny about her statement, but she didn’t care. She had made Dinah laugh and that alone left Helena’s insides feeling warm and mushy, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Helena didn’t know why, but suddenly all she knew was that she’d do anything to hear that laugh again as many times as she could. Or to be the reason for the wide smile that made Dinah’s dimples come out.
Helena forced her gaze away from Dinah, else she’d be fixated on her forever. She kept wanting to look back to see if Dinah was still smiling, for Dinah’s smile felt brighter than any streetlight or star Helena had ever seen, more radiant, and more filled with life.
They sat there, side by side, a comfortable silence between them. Helena appreciated the fact that Dinah didn’t feel the need to force a conversation upon them, that she could just enjoy the silence like Helena did. The assassin didn’t trust her voice to speak right now, anyway.
After what felt like an eternity and somehow just a blink of an eye at the same time, Dinah turned to look at Helena with a soft smile on her lips.
“Let’s get back inside, Helena,” Dinah said. And the way she said it, the softness in her voice, the smile on her full lips…
It was in that moment that Helena decided she wasn’t ready after all. Not yet. She took Dinah’s hand and let herself be pulled up, away from the captivating sea of lights far below them.
Helena knew that one day, she’d be ready to go. But as Dinah smiled and led them back inside, warm hand clasping her cool one, Helena knew she’d stay around for a while longer to see that smile again. She’d stay around to hear that laugh, to be the reason for that laugh. And maybe it was selfish of her, but a part of Helena knew it was the right choice.
One day she’d be ready.
Today was not that day.