Work Text:
You try, you die. Just like Kent did.
She’d warned them. She had. But they shrugged it off, not understanding, and there was nowhere else for her to go.
It’s almost funny how the curse can take the simplest spell and twist it into a cascade of chaos. She can’t even trace the cause and effect now. A blast of magic to stop Gentleman Ghost. But that one blast became many and they didn’t stop when they struck him or objects around him.
She hadn’t even known that magic could ricochet.
The shouting sounds like it comes from far away, echoing through a tunnel. The Flash is on the ground. She can smell his burning leg. Wildcat is leaning over Mid-Nite. The Witch sees the blood between her fingers.
“Sal-”
Liberty Belle and Power Girl pull Hourman out from under rubble. Green Lantern tries to get to his feet but his face twists and he collapses back down, his children at his side.
“Salem.”
She blinks. Stargirl’s standing in front of her. Her mouth moves with words but Salem hears nothing. The older girl frowns before turning away to hurry towards the others. For the briefest moment, Khalid takes her place. Salem can’t see his expression behind the helmet but she feels the judgment.
I told you.
Why does no one ever listen?
Khalid’s there and then he’s gone in the same direction as Stargirl. Salem doesn’t move an inch. She stands and watches, as real as a ghost. She matters about as much as one too.
Salem sits slouched at the round table, legs crossed and leaning against the armrest. “You could have gotten someone killed.” Power Girl’s voice is hard, unforgiving. Salem hasn’t made friends among the JSA.
“Karen,” the Flash gently interrupts. Unlike some of the others, his wounds had healed quickly. She hates the way he looks at her. That pity mixed with talking down to her, as if she has to be carefully handled lest she explode.
Maybe he’s not wrong.
Every second she’s here, she’s a ticking time bomb.
He leans forward, trying to catch her gaze. She continues to stare off to the side with a bored expression. “What happened? Maybe we can help.”
She wants to scream. The curse is no secret. It’s a flag she waves to keep people away but they’re too blind to see it. They can’t “help her.” Kent was the only one who had any idea what the curse really was. He’d been looking for a way to break it. He’d had ways to keep her magic in check as much as possible. And when it couldn’t be, he’d fix what went wrong and sit with her and tell her it wasn’t her fault. He didn’t look at her with the distrust of Power Girl or the dislike of Jakeem or the frustration of Helena.
Then again, what does it matter what he did? He’s dead.
So Salem does what she does best: make everything worse.
She rolls her eyes and huffs. Power Girl tenses, eyes flashing. “Help from you?” Salem laces her voice with annoyance. “You couldn’t even deal with a little errant magic. Why would I trust you with anything greater? I wouldn't trust you to make a cup of tea."
The meeting devolves into a shouting match. Salem sits there and watches with a bored expression even as her chest twists and burns. People don't realize how hard it is to be mean. Years of experience and there's always that little voice that wants to beg for forgiveness. But forgiveness and love and friendship and everything else kind only makes the curse worse and isn't that such a paradox? That the kindest thing she can do for them, and the cruelest for herself, is to make them hate her.
Half the team have reached their breaking point. She can't blame them. She hates herself too. The argument goes on a shockingly long time before Flash asks her to leave the room. She stares at him, expression unreadable, and then slowly walks out. She doesn’t stop until she’s in her room. She collapses onto the bed and wraps her arms around herself.
She’d told them. And just like every time before, they act as if it doesn’t matter until it does and then it’s her fault, her mistake, her crime and she can’t close her mouth fast enough before the insults and flippant comments spill out.
No, not every time. Kent and Inza had understood. Truly understood. She hadn't needed to be mean around them. But that got them hurt, didn't it? Like every other person who has ever had the misfortune of knowing her. She's not cursed. She is the curse. She belongs nowhere, deserves nothing. Maybe she did when Kent was alive, when the Tower was her home, but that history's dead and buried and rotting beneath the earth.
Maybe they'll kick her off the team. It would be the best decision for them. Who cares what's best for her? Who cares what she might need or what makes her throat tighten and eyes burn or how much this hurts?
She's just the wicked witch in a garden of angels.