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When Cissie told her mom she was a girl, Bonnie had been delighted and supportive.
Not for the reasons Cissie wanted, though.
Cissie didn’t realize it at the time, but her mother’s joy and acceptance hadn’t been for her. It was all about herself – about Arrowette. A son couldn’t carry on the Arrowette name, but a daughter could.
Cissie could.
The support Bonnie offered was transactional; Cissie got to be her true self in return for helping her mother live out her failed dreams. At the time, it felt like a fair exchange, but as the years wore on and the strain of her mother’s legacy grew heavier and heavier, Cissie began to wonder if it was fair after all.
“Are you sure?” Cissie mumbled, looking at the costume Bonnie had presented her with. “It’s a bit… much.”
“It’s in style,” Bonnie insisted. “Superheroines your age wear this sort of thing.”
“I- I’m really not sure…”
Bonnie sighed, annoyed by the inconvenience. “Do you want me to find you something more unisex? You usually like this sort of style.”
“N-No!” Cissie hastily took the costume from Bonnie. “No, it’s fine. I’ll wear it.”
“That's a relief. I probably wouldn’t have been able to replace it in time for your debut anyway.”
Cissie nodded distantly, even as her stomach tumbled into a pit of nerves. “Are you sure I’m ready?”
“We’ve been working towards this for so long. You can’t back down now. Not after all the work I put into training you.”
“Right…”
“You’re gonna do great, girlie,” Bonnie said. “You’ve worked so hard for this. It’s your dream.”
Though she never would talk back to her mother in such a way, Cissie desperately wanted to protest that this was Bonnie’s dream, not hers.
If you’d asked Cissie about her mom, she’d have called her many things: a control freak, a harsh teacher, and a bit of a curmudgeon.
She’d never have called her abusive.
Which made it even stranger when Max Mercury called the cops on her mom, and stranger still when the judge sided with him, and by the time her mom was being dragged away in handcuffs, Cissie didn’t know how to feel.
Due to her age, she didn’t have to enter the foster care system. Instead, she was able to enroll in a boarding school, where she’d be living until her mother was released from prison following a psychological analysis. Not an ideal solution, but better than the alternative.
It was strange to see Bonnie in prison. She didn’t seem like she belonged there, amongst the criminals who were “more worthy of being in jail.” It wasn’t as though she’d hurt anyone… not really.
“Cissie! Oh, it’s good to see you.” Cissie nodded, sitting down on the other side of the perspex window that divided them. “Where are you staying? Are you alright?”
“I’m staying at the boarding school for now,” Cissie replied. “Saint Elias’ School for Girls.”
Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “They really admitted you?”
“... is that so surprising?” Cissie countered. “My test scores have always been high, and my extracurriculars are impressive.”
“Well, yes, but… with you being…” Bonnie paused, before continuing, “You’re not exactly a typical girl, are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m only looking out for you,” Bonnie insisted. “I don’t want you to get into a bad situation because of… what you are.”
“What I am?” Cissie repeated. “You don’t have to say it like that…”
“Other people won’t be as accepting of you as I am.”
Cissie, within seconds, saw red. “Accepting…? Is that what you call it?”
Bonnie crossed her arms. “I let you do what you wanted, didn’t I? Most people wouldn’t have let their son do half the things I let you do.”
“You only accepted me because it meant I could be like you!”
“Is that such a problem?”
“You never actually saw me as a girl, did you?” Cissie hissed. “Only because it was convenient for you. You never saw me as your daughter. Only as Arrowette.”
“That’s not…” Bonnie trailed off, averting her widening eyes from Cissie. “I didn’t…”
Cissie blinked away tears. “Why did I even come here? I never should have… I never should have agreed to this.” She stood up from her seat.
“Cissie? Cissie! Don’t you walk away–”
As the heavy metal doors slammed closed behind Cissie, her mother’s voice was drowned out, and Cissie could finally breathe again.
Things between Cissie and Bonnie were… better.
Fine, even.
Bonnie hadn’t apologized to Cissie, but she never apologized to anyone, so Cissie wasn’t surprised about that. While Cissie continued to live at Saint Elias, she did meet up with Bonnie for regular visits. Cissie even told her about Young Justice, though Bonnie didn’t seem… entirely happy about it.
Would she ever be happy about anything Cissie did?
“You’re too good to be sharing the attention,” Bonnie sneered, tapping at the front page of the newspaper she was reading, where Arrowette was photographed with the rest of Young Justice. “Honestly, some of those kids could have done with my teachings… especially that red-haired one.”
“I like Impulse,” Cissie mumbled, fidgeting with her sleeve.
Bonnie continued like Cissie hadn’t said a thing. “He clearly hasn’t been media-trained at all! Running his mouth like he can say whatever he wants – I hope you haven’t been so unrestrained while speaking to the press, especially with your… secrets.”
“I’ve been careful.”
“Have you told Young Justice?”
“What? Well, no, but–”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
“Why can’t I tell them?”
“And risk that Impulse kid running his mouth to the press? I thought you were smarter than that, Cissie.”
“They’re my friends. They wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“It’s too risky,” Bonnie insisted, flipping through the newspaper. “You’re better off keeping such things private.”
Cissie wanted to protest, but… it wasn’t as if Bonnie would listen.
When Cissie found out that Dr. Money was dead, she wanted blood.
She wanted to hunt down the men who killed her – to make them scream and beg for mercy like Dr. Money had, only to put an arrow through their heads herself, and watch the life leave their eyes.
She would have, if Kon hadn’t stopped her.
When she tried to tell Bonnie what happened – why she needed to give up the Arrowette title – all Bonnie had cared about was the fact that Cissie wanted to quit. Not that someone was dead. Not that Cissie wanted to hurt someone.
In that moment, Cissie was struck by how selfish her mother could be.
Things between them weren’t fixed by one apology or one gesture. It took a long time and a lot of work for Bonnie to earn Cissie’s trust.
The biggest step to repairing their relationship came when her mother supported her on her journey to the Olympics. It meant more than Cissie could really express. It didn’t fix everything, but it was a start.
Especially when a reporter started pressing Cissie about her biological sex after her win – despite archery being a mixed-gender sport, it seemed some people were less than accepting about the idea of trans athletes participating in the Olympics to begin with, and there was speculation going around online about Cissie specifically.
“Excuse me? That’s my daughter you’re talking to!” Bonnie pushed herself between Cissie and the reporter. “Can I see your press pass? What sort of reporter are you, anyway? Asking a teenage girl such invasive questions… you should be ashamed of yourself!”
“I’m not–”
Bonnie wasn’t finished. In fact, she was barely started.
Watching Bonnie tear into the reporter was surprisingly satisfying, and he slinked away soon after, defeated and guilty. When the coast was clear, Cissie pulled Bonnie in for a quick hug.
Bonnie wasn’t a perfect mother, but she was really trying, and that was what counted, right?