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Harvest felt like he should've stopped her, maybe.
Like maybe if he stopped her, the League would've found the people that killed her parents before she had, and they'd face prison instead of death. Like maybe he should've tried harder to say revenge won't make this better, or that she didn't have the right to dish out an execution.
Honestly, he wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't. It wasn't like she'd been discreet about her goal. Aiken had gotten up, said she was going to find them, that they deserved to die, looked him in the eye and asked him if he was going to stop her.
And for a reason he couldn't place no matter how far he traced his own reasoning, he'd said no.
Near-silent footsteps broke Harvest out of his thoughts as Connor sat down behind him. He'd chosen a rooftop in Gotham to think on, looking over the city lit up in yellow streetlamps and the bright red and blue of police sirens that he called home. The chill of the winter wind nipped at Harvest's cheeks, bringing with it the comforting smell of smoke and rain.
It wasn't as dangerous to dangle his legs over the edge anymore, when he had a lantern ring and Connor had a grappling hook, but a familiar lump still lodged itself in his throat when he looked down.
"What happened?" Harvest asked.
"Batman suspended her." Connor said, his gaze wandering over the city below.
Harvest winced. "Ouch. Really? For how long?"
Connor shrugged, like they were talking about a creased card in a board game. "Dunno. Until she "learns to control her anger", but…" A smile crossed his face and he chuckled softly. "I don't think that's going to happen. So, probably a while."
Harvest studied his expression for a moment - as best as he could, anyway. Connor was watching light glint against windows, studying the walls of the buildings across the street, tracking the people walking the sidewalks below. A soft smile rested on his face, like he was at ease, completely unbothered by everything that had happened. Everything they hadn't stopped.
Harvest lifted himself by his hands and shifted slightly. "Isn't that a bit much?"
"Hm?" Connor blinked and glanced at him like he'd been jarred out of his own thoughts.
"The suspension. Without a clear length." Harvest said. "She was just…" This time he looked across the street, tracing the beams of windows in thought as a centipede crawled up his spine.
Connor stayed quiet for a moment, then stepped into the silence. "He's pretty serious about his no-kill rule."
"It's not our no-kill rule." Harvest looked at him, then winced. The way Connor's eyes widened in surprise and the tilt of his head made him think that was the wrong thing to say. "I mean…I -"
Harvest sighed, his shoulders falling slack. Electric bees buzzed under his skin and made his tongue want to freeze in his mouth. "I just mean…why is she being punished for breaking a rule she didn't agree to?"
They both looked forward this time. The silence that fell between them was thick with Gotham smoke and heavy with thoughts that could almost be heard.
"She's on our team." Connor said finally, and Harvest glimpsed him adjusting his mask in his peripheral. "We play by his rules."
A worm in Harvest's chest squirmed. "She didn't ask for that."
"We don't ask for a lot of things." Connor said. "That doesn't mean we ignore the fact that it happened."
Harvest spun his ring around his finger. For the first three days after the ring appeared it had chased him everywhere he went. Appeared on the sink, on the kitchen counter, on his nightstand, his altar, under his bowl at dinner. Three days of closing his eyes and wishing it would go away.
He wondered if Aiken had done the same thing. For five days she'd barely looked at anyone, barely talked to anyone. They barely knew each other's names. He wondered if she'd spent the time, eyes closed and face toward the ceiling, praying to anything that would hear her that her parents would be there when she opened them.
…He wondered if he'd do that, too. If he'd refuse to leave his room if his sisters died. If he'd be willing to cross that line, too, if it had even a sliver of a chance at saving them.
"…Would you do it?" He found himself asking before he even registered the words on his tongue.
Connor blinked out of his thoughts and met his gaze. "What?"
"If someone threatened your parents. Would you kill them if you could save them?"
Something Harvest couldn't name changed behind Connor's eyes. He looked back to his knees. "No."
"Do you think you'd think about it?"
Another long, heavy silence. Then a quiet, "Maybe." He shook his head softly. "I don't think so, though."
The quiet that time felt more like ice creeping in through micro cracks in wood walls.
"They're not worth that."
Harvest winced. Something he couldn't name pooled in his chest like a near-black pond deep underground. Sometimes he forgot about that.
"Would you?"
A lump lodged itself into Harvest's throat again as he met mud-brown eyes. He wanted to say no. That no matter what happened, he could never bring himself to cross that line. To end a life.
"…I don't know."