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Daniel had offered to help clean up the wreckage left after defeating Mongul, but Claire had just waved him off and told him not to worry about it.
But Rachel knew Daniel would worry. If not about the mess he made in the Fortress, then about the state of Claire's mind after what had happen
She stands a few feet behind Claire, who's staring at the statue of her parents, the pain clear on her face. Rachel listens patiently as Claire talks about what she saw-what the Black Mercy had shown her.
“I was going to kill him . . . over a world that wasn't even real.” Claire turns her face away, clenching her jaw. It makes Rachel wonder what she herself would have done if she had spent as much time under the influence of that damn flower as Claire had.
It . . . wouldn't have been pretty, to say the least.
And while Rachel is perfectly willing to voice her own opinions to others, she also knows when comfort is actually needed. So, Rachel steps up behind Claire and sets her hand on the taller woman's shoulder, squeezing lightly. “It was real to you,” Rachel murmured, hoping her words had the same assuring tone Alfred's did when he talked her down from a nightmare. “What you saw-having something like that taken away from you-it messes with your emotions.”
Claire smiles tightly and reaches up to tangle their fingers together, “It seem kinda selfish to want something I can't ever have.”
It takes Rachel a . . . worrying amount of effort not glance at their joined hands when she replies (because even though Claire can be the most oblivious person in any given room when it comes to romance, besides Wally, she's oddly perceptive sometimes), “It is selfish.” She pauses, remembering the sight of her father getting the chance he never got in reality to fight back, instead of using words to talk down a desperate man. “But it makes us human. Or, in your case, humane.”
Because Thomas Wayne was never the type of man to use his fists when there was even the smallest chance of solving something peacefully and to wish otherwise is so very, very human of her. (Her developing feelings for Claire are something she won't allow herself to consider, not-not now. Maybe not ever.) Rachel's nightly activities are distinctly the opposite of what he would have done, and some days the work Wayne Enterprises does for the public is the only the keeping her guilt from crushing her.
So, Rachel knows what Claire feels, wishing for impossible things, for a planet when Jonathan Kent should be enough or an intimate relationship when one is more suited for friendship. Having the guilt and loss sucker punch you in the gut until you can't breathe and-that's not-that's her-
The weight of Claire's gaze and the feel of her thumb running across the back of Rachel's hand drags her from her rapidly spiraling thoughts.
“Thank you, Rachel. For understanding.” her expression is still somewhat melancholy, but it's less lost than before so Rachel lets it go.
“You should head to the Watchtower. Barry planned a surprise party.” It's not the most subtle change of subject, but after the day they've had Rachel's beyond caring. She-with a gentleness she won't allow herself to examine too closely-slips her hand from Claire's and turns on her heel, stalking away from the Kryptonian. Rachel feels open and raw in a way she only allows herself to be in the comfort of her father's study. She can practically taste emotions on her tongue and see the ghosts of her long dead parents in the corner of her eye. Maybe if she heads back to Gotham and beats up enough criminals, she'll be exhausted enough to keep the nightmares at bay.
Claire falls into step beside her. “If it's a surprise party then I'm sure we can afford to be late a hour or two. Maybe we can head over to that diner in Metropolis we ate at a few weeks back. Their pie isn't as good as Ma's but I'm sure you don't want anyone in Smallville asking why the Batplane is landing on the Kent farm.”
“As opposed to someone in Metropolis questioning why it's parked on the roof of their apartment building?” Rachel doesn't smile, but the corner of her mouth does quirk involuntarily. “And I do have stealth-tech installed, you know.”
“Oh, I know. But it would be faster to just carry you.” Claire shrugs.
That makes Rachel slant a narrow-eyed frown at the taller woman, “Absolutely not. My civilian clothes are in the plane and you're perfectly welcome to catch a ride or fly beside me. If not, feel free to get to the city first and order something for me.” Without the proper time to get her head straight, having Claire carry her all the way to Metropolis is like asking for temptation.
“Okay, I wouldn't mind a ride. Besides,” Claire chuckles, and shoots Rachel a grin. “you're not as bad company as you lead people to believe.”
Rachel replies with nothing but a simple huff and prepares herself for a long flight.
Unsurprisingly enough, the idea doesn't seem like such a hardship.