DC- Anarky Rising pt. 3

Chapter 3: Vanishing Act


Some people were tactful about how to drop a proverbial bomb in the middle of a conversation.  They knew how to wait for the right opening, the best way to word the matter, and who to primarily address in order to best cushion the impact of the news.  And then there were some people who just had a tendency to bluntly release a grenade after pulling the pin, regardless of what might occur on impact.  The sharp-shooting, trigger-happy young woman known as “Banshee” fell among the latter category.

She was visiting her close friends, all of them hanging out in the employee break room at the Iceberg Lounge—having a friend who was the bartender there and Cobblepot’s main squeeze rocked—and they were congratulating said friend on her pregnancy.  It was a little late, considering May was roughly six months along and had hidden it well up until that point, much to the annoyance of the other girls.  She had also insisted that she didn’t want even a facsimile of a baby shower unless they were all there—and their little ring of friends was at present one member short—but Erin Knightly had insisted on having an impromptu little “friend party” at the Lounge for May during its closed hours, and the others had quite readily agreed.

Vanessa was trying to convince May for the umpteenth time to teach them how to mix up their own vodkashakes, and Banshee was about to chime in her support, when her phone buzzed in her pocket.  Surprised, she pulled it out immediately, expecting to find a text from Incubus.  They had officially declared last month that they were going steady, something that still had her on Cloud Nine, and they had started texting one another almost every day.  Oddly enough however, the text turned out not to be from Logann, but from his sister.

“Guys, I just got a text from Guen.” She blurted out.  The others all looked up in surprise for a moment, waiting for her to continue.  She glanced around, meeting all their eyes before opening the message and adding after a moment, “She’s out on a lunch date with Riddler.”

This was met with scattered cooing before the girls mostly went back to what they’d been doing before, and Akira secretly felt relieved.  Guen had been like a sister to her since they’d first met, and the poor woman had gone through a lot in roughly the last year.  It was about high time she had the chance to relax and go on a date, and Akira was happy for her.  Feeling a bit nosy as she always did when it came to her friends’ love lives, she texted Guen back.

[ gurl u betta gv deetz l8er!!!1 ]

She pressed the ‘send’ key with a bit of a snicker, and put the matter out of her mind for the most part as she continued to hang out with the rest of the girls.  But as luck or fate would have it, little more than half an hour passed before her phone buzzed again.  Even more surprised than before, she opened the second text message excitedly as Erin and Ink discussed making baby clothes for May.

“Akira?” Someone said her name, trying to get her attention.  But her eyes finished scanning the text and the blood drained from her face before she responded.

“Oh, crap.” She muttered.  “Uh, girls?  Guen needs to talk to us.”

There was a collective pause.

“What, now?”

“No,” she answered, “She wants us all to meet up in front of some sub place at the mall before six for dinner or something.  And uh, I’m guessing her lunch date with Eddie didn’t go well, because she ain’t givin’ us an option.”




Texting anyone was risky, what with Yin the essential guard dog, but Guen was too excited to over-worry about the consequences.  She waited until they had been seated and Eddie was placing their drink order to fire off a text to Akira.  Her interaction with the girls had been so limited, but lunch with Edward was a good sign, and her friends would want to know.

“You can’t necessarily hide your wings any more, can you?”

She slowly lowered her phone to the surface of the table, unsure how to respond.  Opening a conversation with that wasn’t what she had expected from Eddie, even though they had had to have a word with the manager concerning the matter.

“Not really,” she replied quietly, “I think they’ve stopped growing, but I can’t just tuck them in a hoodie or a jacket any more.”

Glancing up, she met those familiar blue eyes, staring at her in a mix of worry and affection, and her cheeks flushed in response.

“Thank goodness for spacious high-rise tables, then.  At least we can still eat out, sans potential booth-cuddling.” He mumbled with a smile.  She sucked in a breath, leaning a little further back in the high-rise chair.  This was it, the topic she had wanted to avoid with him.

“We’re probably going to have to be sans any kind of cuddling for a while, Eddie. Or…well, anything else, really.  I’m sorry.” She murmured, shifting her wings and pulling them a bit closer to her arms, trying to shield herself again.  For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of annoyance flicker across his face, but her paranoia and worry over how he might react must have been getting to her, because he smiled a bit sadly.

“It’s alright.” He answered, reaching for her hand.

Hands like talons, grasping for her wrist.

Blood, slick as oil, and just as damning when spilled.

Eyes burning with hate.

Blood and hate, blood and hate and hate and blood and blood and hate…

Sucking in a breath, she pulled her hand away quickly, casting her gaze to the floor, where she studied the patterns in the tiles to distract herself.

“S-sorry, but not even that, Ed… I just… can’t.”

There was a pause, then he leaned back in his chair, probably pouting, Guen figured.

“Sorry.” She mumbled again.  “I just… Flashbacks.”

“I could still kill that bastard for you, you know.” Edward remarked in a would-be calm voice.

“Eddie, no.” She said sharply.  “Killing him wouldn’t solve anything.  Besides, I don’t want you to sink to that level.”

“I didn’t say I’m going to,” he replied quietly, drumming his fingertips on the surface of the table, “Just that I would do it for you.”

She didn’t know what to say in response to that.  She was grateful, yes, but something about the sincerity of what Eddie was saying scared her.  Her thoughts were threatening to dissolve into maelstrom panic, and Wraith was offering up no advice whatsoever.  She had to find a new topic of conversation to anchor herself on to.

Her mind jumped to Kwiz Kid and Mystery.

“When did you find sidekicks, anyway?” She murmured.  “Rook said Mystery’s been around for a while, and that Kwiz is a new addition.”

“That’s more or less accurate.” He replied.

“I didn’t think you would ever take on understudies.”

“Gotham needs a Riddler,” he said, his voice low, and when she looked up at him, fevered excitement shone in his blue eyes, “And unfortunately, wonderful though I am, I am still lamentably mortal.  Sooner or later, I won’t be able to continue.  But the mantle can be passed down.”

Wordlessly she nodded.  It was true enough, though she couldn’t see why it was so important to start training an understudy immediately, let alone two of them.  Eddie was still young; surely he wasn’t expecting to “retire” from his Riddler persona this early, was he?

Doubt it, Wraith gave an abrupt mental snort, His ego probably wouldn’t allow it.  Besides, he probably enjoys having a couple of impressionable teeny-bops around to awe and shower him with admiration.

You didn’t think Mystery was a teeny-bop. Guen argued weakly, unable to contest the rest of her other personality’s thought.

Of course I don’t, and I know you don’t either, Wraith answered, calming down marginally at the thought of the younger girl, But my point stands regardless.

Unbidden, the thought of all those other women in the hideout came to her mind, and even as she felt a cold gloominess settle over her, she had to restrain a growl that was purely Wraith starting to get angry again.

“Does that mean the entire syndicate would get passed down as well?” She blurted out.  “All that knowledge, all the equipment, all of your… assistants?”

His mouth fell open, confusion and suspicion warring behind his eyes, but he was prevented from responding by the timely arrival of a server, who was awaiting their order with a wide smile.  They tonelessly gave their input, one after the other, and within moments the server spun away, still with the same broad smile.  Edward looked up at her again.

“Is there something bothering you, Guen?” He asked suspiciously.

“No,” the lie tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it, “Sorry, Ed.  I just… have a lot on my mind lately.”

“I know, Guen.  I’m sorry you’re so stressed,” he said tenderly, and she stared down at her hands in her lap, feeling rather guilty.

He didn’t know.  He didn’t have a clue.  And heaven help her, she had no desire to tell him everything.  Not yet.

Silently, she pulled out her phone to text Banshee again as Edward started rambling again, the sound of his voice numbing her thoughts.  What she needed right now were the girls, someone who would listen.




“Explain something to me, real quick,” Vanessa huffed, “Why in the biscuits are we meeting up with Guen in the middle of the bloody mall?”

Akira turned and raised an eyebrow at her best friend.  “Biscuits?” She echoed in mild bafflement.  “That’s a new one.”

The young English thief managed to keep her expression in place, but a faint blush colored her cheeks.  “Blame Peter,” she muttered.

“Peter?” Erin asked politely, offering up an encouraging smile.

“She means Ragdoll,” May clarified.  “And if I had to make a guess, I would say we’re meeting up here because Guen wants to hide in plain sight.”

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be a costume party or something going on at the Geek City shop!” Ink piped up happily, smiling under her scarf and hood.  It came as no surprise to any of them that Ink sounded eager to check out said costume party.

“That explains it a bit,” Nessa conceded the point as they marched to the food court, her eyes easily picking out their friend in the crowd.  “There’s our girl!”

Several people in costumes were milling around, some of them with costume wings, but sitting alone at one large table was a woman with huge gray wings folded against her back.  She was staring off at nothing as she poked absentmindedly at a plate of chili-cheese fries, oblivious to the envious glares that many of the cosplayers were throwing her wings.  But as the five friends approached, she looked up and smiled, waving feebly.

“Hey, girls.” She murmured, and Erin and Akira all but tackled her before she could stand up.

“Guen!” Erin almost shrieked as Akira yelled, “We missed you!”

“Missed you, too.” She said quietly, before prying herself free and hugging all the girls one by one.  “Thanks for coming here on such short notice.”

“It sounded a bit urgent.” May remarked, raising an eyebrow.  “What happened on your date with Eddie?”

“It wasn’t just the date,” Guen shook her head as they all settled into chairs, “This is the first time I’ve seen him since the… well, since Batman took me to the G.C.P.D.  And it honestly feels like I’ve been displaced into some weird parallel dimension, like all the rules and everything I thought I knew about him just changed.”

“What, you mean he’s not an arrogant tosspot anymore?” Nessa suggested, earning her a light smack on the shoulder from May and an under-the-table high-five from Akira.  Guen inhaled deeply, trying to ignore it, and Erin and Ink gave her encouraging nods to continue.

“Did any of you know how expansive his syndicate is?  Or that it’s primarily compromised of women who look like they were on sale for buy-two-get-one-free at Supermodels-R-Us?” She asked, her voice brittle with anger.  She watched the looks of shock and alarm grow on her friends’ faces, felt a mild satisfaction at the sight, and smiled bitterly before she continued.  “What about his underground base?  That one’s new, as far as I know.  And the sidekicks, those are new to me too.”

“Wait-wait-wait!” Akira waved her hands for a second.  “Did you say he’s got sidekicks?”

Guen nodded, exhaling sharply as she brushed strands of hair out of her face.  “Two of them.  They go by Mystery and Kwiz Kid.  Going by what Rook’s told me, Kwiz is a newer addition; Ed picked him up out of Jump City a month ago or something.  Mystery though, she’s been around for at least a year, maybe more.”  She explained, keeping her gaze on the lukewarm fries she was steadily mashing to a pulp.

“He never even told me about a sidekick!” Nessa sounded absolutely scandalized.  “And he adores you!  Why did he keep that a secret?”

Why, indeed. Guen thought, fiddling with the plastic fork and not looking up at them.  I would really love to know the answer to that question.

“I’m sure he had his reasons.” Ink said, in a tone that urged everyone to be reasonable and open-minded.  “Eddie usually has reasons; sometimes he’s just not the best at explaining them.”

Part of Guen wanted to agree with her—after all, it sounded rather logical—but Akira was quick on the rebuttal.

“That don’t matter!” She snapped, and as Vanessa weakly attempted to correct her grammar, (“that doesn’t matter, mate; proper English…”) she went on more loudly, “Ed’s made it clear he’s serious about Guen!  And if he’s really serious about being serious about Guen, he should’ve told her somethin’ this damn important!”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t have,” Ink answered, “But maybe he had reasons why he didn’t say anything.”

“You know,” May commented reflectively, delicately shuffling a deck of playing cards as she often did in her pondering, “If you don’t beat around the bush, at the heart of the matter I have to agree with Banshee.  If Ed’s sincere, there shouldn’t be any excuse as to why he didn’t tell Guen any of this.  Even if he waited until around now to do so, he at least should have told her about these things beforehand to cushion the impact, instead of just letting it all slap her in the face when she went to meet him.”

Guen shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her wings tensing slightly as she crossed her arms, silently agreeing with the older woman.  It would have been nice to have some warning, and not from Rook, either.  She wished Edward had told her himself.

“Did you try asking him why he didn’t tell you any of this?” Nessa asked, and when Guen glanced up at her, she was mildly surprised by the look of suspicion she saw in her friend’s blue gaze.

“He more or less said his reason was that he thought if he told me all this, I’d have some kind of mental breakdown or something.” She sighed, shifting her wings fractionally in the hint of a shrug.  All around the table she saw her friends exchange flat looks, unimpressed.

“Wow.” Akira snorted.  “That’s a real vote of confidence.”

“Yeah, I know,” the winged woman huffed, before looking at Erin and frowning slightly.  “Is everything okay, Knightly?  You’re awfully quiet.”

Indeed, Erin had been unusually silent as she followed the entire exchange, and her cornflower-blue eyes widened slightly upon being addressed.  All eyes turned to her, and she looked down at her lap, wringing her hands in an anxious way and chewing her lower lip.  Finally, she looked up and steadily held the gaze of her younger friend.

“Are you happy, Guen?” She asked calmly, making her blink.

“Happy?” She echoed, taken aback.  That was the last thing she had expected to hear, and from Erin of all people, too!  The words seemed to echo vastly in her ears as she looked at the redhead, puzzling over the question.

Am I… happy?

The ponderous silence that was starting to settle over the table was abruptly shattered in moments as screams erupted in the food court.  The six women jumped, tensing as one as crashes sounded, tables were flipped, and chairs were thrown.  Two men appeared to be strong-arming security guards and civilians alike, and in the panic, a third man clambered onto an empty table in one swift movement.  A vast cape billowed about his lean frame as he spread his arms wide open.  With his white costume, mask, ridiculous silver belt, and the black symbol on his chest, he almost could have been mistaken for one of the cosplayers in the crowd; but he had a dangerous air about him, reflected primarily in the wolfish smile spreading over his head.

“Please, please, my good consumerist sheep,” he addressed the crowd in a silky-smooth purr of a voice, “I mean you and yours no harm.  What my associates and I wish to accomplish here tonight is a demonstration of rebellion—rebellion against the oppressive forces that continue to poison the already corrupt system in this lost city.”

As if to emphasize the point, one of the men with him let out a loud growl and threw a chair into the menu-board of a closed restaurant, shattering the weak plastic and the fluorescent light bulbs underneath.  Several more people shrieked and screamed, and larger groups of people started to huddle together.  Ink shifted in her chair, looking ready to jump up and tackle one of the men, but was restrained by May’s and Erin’s hands on her shoulders.

“It isn’t your fault you’ve all been brainwashed and kept down like a mindless herd,” the man in white went on in a pitying voice, “No, you haven’t been taught any better, taught to truly think for yourselves.  But that’s what the politicians want, you see.  They want you to simply do as they tell you, because they fear you.  They know if you were to rise against them, to reclaim your freedoms as American people, that you could truly take that power back.  They fear revolt, and they’ve grown addicted to power that they’ll kill for; they don’t want to give that up.”

Abruptly his countenance grew thunderous, and his eyes flashed.

“Well, I’m here to incite the start of an uprising.”

Something in his words was stirring up Wraith’s fighting instinct, and even as she felt her other personality’s approval, Guen also realized she too appreciated what he was getting at.  But a second glance around the food court, at all the frightened faces visible, and she knew that whatever he was doing, it wouldn’t end well.  Not here, and not like this.  Unbidden, she rose from her chair, extending her wings with a snap to effect.

“Hey, pal,” she called, keeping her voice as light and friendly as possible, “I’m liking the sound of your plan, don’t get me wrong, but you may wanna work on your approach.  I mean, the G.C.P.D. won’t really see this as a demonstration as much as destruction of public property and terrorizing innocent people.  I’m all for a little rebellion, but that’s not really easy to do from inside a cell, at least on a grand scale.”

The man in white had spun to look at her when she had started talking—as had many other eyes in the vicinity—and he had fixed her with a politely surprised look the entire time.  As her words trailed away, something like a small beam of delight brightened his face.

“Boys!” He called sharply, snapping his fingers to get the attention of his two thugs.  “Fortune smiles on our crusade.  See, the Powers of Heaven have sent an angel of loveliness to bless my selfless ambitions.”

Guen blinked, staring in disbelief.  Had she heard him right?

“Is this nutter for real?” She heard Vanessa whisper.

“Hell if I know.” Akira whispered back.

Good question, Wraith’s thoughts chimed in, I can’t tell if this guy’s mocking us or if he’s actually serious.

“Oh, my apologies,” He clucked his tongue on noticing her expression, and spoke in a honey-sweet tone, “I almost overlooked your lack of halo.  A dark angel then, or a Fallen one.”

I’m going to go with the option that he’s mocking us. Guen thought irritably, before tucking her wings against her back and taking a few steps forward.

“Okay buddy, I’m flattered—“

“You’re a terrible liar.” He said, offering her an amused smile.  She felt a muscle twitch in her jaw, and she had to force herself to breathe in and out a few times to remain calm.

“Whatever,” she snapped briskly, “Look, did you listen to anything I said?  I’m serious, alright?  I’m totally down with power to the people, but you are going to get caught and arrested.  If you don’t believe it, you can check the tracking device around my ankle.  I know what I’m talking about, alright?”

The arrogant air about him faded somewhat as he glanced from her eyes to her ankles and back again.

“You’re serious.” He spoke in an even, guarded voice.

“Um, yeah?” She said, more than a little annoyed he was just now catching on.  What was with this guy?

“And you’re serious about supporting my uprising?”

She bit the inside of her lip, her mind racing.  She needed to avoid answering in a way that he could twist into her agreeing to be a willing accomplice or something.  Still, she didn’t want him to think she was being insincere either.

“I’m all for rebellion and power to the people,” she repeated her earlier words cautiously, “But you’re still going about it in a kind of stupid way.”

The entire food court seemed to hold its breath, anxiously awaiting the outcome.  The man in white pondered her a moment, drumming his fingertips together.

“May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?” He asked finally, his voice soft and respectful.

“You first.” She shot back, crossing her arms, and he smiled approvingly.

“Please,” he said with a showy flourish of his cape, “Call me Anarky.  And, you are?”

“At the moment,” she answered stiffly, “Guen Pendragon.”

His eyes widened as a look of comprehension and recognition dawned on his face.

“The Miss Pendragon?” He asked, and in moments, the over-excited delight was back in his manner.  “How fortuitous!  I was hardly expecting to meet you so soon!”

His words sent chills down her spine.  “You what?” She gasped, tensing.  Behind her, low murmurs erupted among her friends.  They would jump at a moment’s notice to defend her, she knew that, but she wasn’t sure this ‘Anarky’ was a real threat… at least, not yet.

“A mutual acquaintance suggested the two of us would benefit from an alliance with one another.” He said by way of explanation.  “But I didn’t anticipate running into you like this!  It is a sincere delight, Miss Pendragon.  And, may I just say…?”

He hopped off of the table, closing the distance between them in that single leap, and raised his eyebrows beneath his mask in a purely suggestive way.

“I find green eyes fatally attractive.”

WHAPKRAAASSH!!

“Guen!” Her friends shouted, shocked.  She had no answer for them, and even if she did, Wraith had taken charge.  Smacking Anarky with a wing had been pure instinct, reflexive really, and Wraith didn’t quite care about the possible consequences at that moment.  She watched icily as Anarky untangled himself from the tables and chairs, his two henchmen panicking as they rushed to his aid.

“Word of advice,” she growled in her rough voice, “Don’t invade a girl’s personal space.  Dumb idea, no matter how you look at it.”

Anarky looked up at her, the expression on his mask showing mixed astonishment and guarded skepticism.  His eyes seemed to burn into hers as he got to his feet, and behind her, she heard the girls getting to their feet as well.  If it had been tense before, it was infinitely worse now.

“Evidently.” He agreed in a raspy, frigid tone.

“B-boss?” The larger of his two companions said anxiously.  “Do you—should we—?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Junkyard Dog,” Anarky sighed, “Her friends are going to flatten you both.”

It was then he moved.

He was almost too fast to follow, charging with his entire body bent parallel to the ground, and even as Wraith’s raptor senses registered the threat, he threw capsules from his belt that exploded into clouds of opaque smoke.  Screams began anew and several choking coughs and shouts could be heard as well.  She barely had time to reach for the hilt of her scythe before her legs were kicked out from under her.

Time slowed down.  She spun into the fall, rolling her body just in time to shield the impact with her left wing.  She hit the floor roughly, hardly thinking about anything anymore, and lashed out with a sweeping arc of her right leg.

The blow connected and Anarky let out a sharp groan of pain.  Immediately Wraith swung her free wing forward, and it smacked against his body, but failed to completely knock him off his feet.  Instead, he swatted her wing aside with a growl, and more smoke capsules burst in the air.  Panicked shouting, hysterical screams, sounds of fighting all launched an assault on the ears.  With a hiss, Wraith covered her ears on instinct, squeezing her eyes shut… and the glancing blow off the edge of a cape slapped her in the face.  She let out a cry of alarm.

“Don’t make me do this, please.” Anarky’s voice sighed, unexpectedly close to her.  “I prefer to make alliances with people I am on good terms with.”

She couldn’t see much through the miasma of smoke, and the clamor around them was only growing louder.  But a glance was all she needed to see that white mask, the contours of Anarky’s face giving it definition in the haze.  She rolled off of her side, right hand sliding around to cover her midriff as she punched upward with her left.  But he was still faster, jerking out of the way in time, and caught the uppercut with the edge of his forearm.

“You’re quick.” The approval was back in his voice.  He lunged out with his other hand, and she moved to grab his wrist and prevent the strike.

Their fingers interlocked as each tried to force the other’s hand away.  The contact was sudden, jolting Wraith and stealing her breath in a raw gasp.  Anarky’s hand was warm beneath his glove, and heavy in the strange way men’s hands were always heavy, even when they were gentle.  Small pinpricks of electric fire were sent tingling through her palm, and an unexpected shiver ran up Wraith’s spine and through her wings.

“You flatter me, Speedy Gonzales.” She muttered dryly.  He gave her an impish grin.

“Yes, I think I like you too.” He replied in a chipper way.

“Wait, what?!” She squawked, jerking her hand away from him.  But she had no time to be dumbfounded over what he said.  A new voice cut through the frenzied cacophony, bellowing with the force of a bullhorn.

“Gotham P.D.!!  All civilians down!  Everyone down on the ground, NOW!”

For an instant, Wraith felt a stab of relief.  Thank God the G.C.P.D. was showing up so timely for once!  Anarky flinched away, scowling in the gloom, and in seconds he had vanished.  But Wraith’s relief was short-lived as she realized it was her handler shouting for order.  Yin was not going to be happy.

“Wraith!” Erin whispered nearby, and she shifted to find her friend staring at her, blue eyes wide as the smoke began to disperse.

“Get the rest of the girls and get out of here!” She hissed. “I can’t promise Yin would just let you all walk away.  Get going!”

The redhead gave a quick nod of understanding and slipped away.  Wraith sighed as she pushed herself up off the floor, hoping the rest of the girls weren’t too badly hurt and could disappear into the rest of the mall without the cops catching sight of them.  This had been a stupid idea, and she didn’t want them taken in on her account.

All around her, people were murmuring relief as the police started moving among them.  Many of them remained close to one another, but the arrival of the authorities seemed to put fresh heart back into them.  It didn’t take long for Wraith to catch a glimpse of Detective Yin; she was deftly weaving her way through the crowd, standing out from the beat cops in her bright red jacket.  She kept her semi-automatic aloft and there was an anxious look in her eye.  She turned, caught sight of the winged woman, and the anxiety vanished, replaced by something that looked very like open relief.

“Pendragon!” She yelled, holstering the gun and elbowing her way over.

“Hey, Detective.  You missed all the action.” She gave a weak laugh.  “We were gonna hand out autographed brass knuckles and everything, it was great.”

Unsurprisingly it turned out this wasn’t the best thing to joke about.  The detective’s look of relief vanished, to be replaced by a scowl of irritation.

“I know you think you’re very clever, Wraith,” she grumbled, grabbing the ex-Rogue by a shoulder and forcefully starting to steer her through the crowd as she lowered her voice, “But this isn’t funny.  I expect you to tell me everything that happened here on our way back in the squad car.”

“Naturally.” Wraith agreed in the most amiable tone she could manage, rolling her eyes when the detective wasn’t looking.

“And another thing.” Yin added, leaning in closer as her voice dropped to a whisper.  “Your friend dropped by.  The one in the black shroud with the beaky mask.”

Wraith nearly missed a step in surprise.  “The Plague Doctor?” She prompted, and Yin gave a nod of confirmation.

“You know, I would have preferred to hear it from you directly, not some spook in a plague doctor bird-mask,” she said in a low, steely voice, “But he told me about your… condition.”

She blinked at her handler.  In light of the situation, she found she didn’t feel as angry as she probably should have, knowing that the older woman had learned her secret.  The fact P.D. had been the one to tell her should have been cause enough to get angry, but Wraith felt rather relaxed, and Guen echoed the feeling at the back of her mind.  After all, the Plague Doctor was odd as hell, but he had saved her life on that first criminal consultant “outing.”  He had been the one to diagnose her affliction, and while the restrictions he tried to enforce on her afterward felt patronizing on some level, he meant well.  And he had thought to tell Yin about it… somehow that eased Wraith and Guen both.

“I can understand why you didn’t want to tell me.” Ellen continued, losing her edge, tone softening.  “But it helps me to know.”

Wraith nodded mutely, and for a few minutes they were silent as they moved out of the foot court, exiting the building for the parking lot and squad cars.  Then abruptly, Ellen spoke.

“Nygma doesn’t know, does he?”

It wasn’t so much a question as a statement simply awaiting affirmation.  Wraith frowned down at the pavement, slowly shaking her head.  She heard an intake of breath, ready to form another question, and she shook her head again.

“Right now, I don’t want him to know.” She said sharply.  “Guen doesn’t feel comfortable with telling him right now, and after the way today went, I don’t think he deserves to know just yet.”

Yin made a noise of contemplation as she led her to the vehicle, and Wraith could feel those dark eyes studying her carefully.

“Sounds like you still have some things to work out.” She remarked, not unkindly.  “If I could make a suggestion, Pendragon?”

“Why not?” She snorted back.  “Even if I say no, I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway.”

“You haven’t told anyone about this.  Maybe Batman, but he probably figured most of it out himself and just told you to confirm it.” Yin said, unlocking the squad car and opening the back door.  She turned, facing Wraith, looking her in the eye.  “You need to tell someone.  Probably someone you can trust.”

“Not exactly a bomb I wanna just drop on my friends or family right now either.”

“Then find someone who won’t judge you based on your condition and how it came about, and tell them.  This isn’t a burden you can just carry by yourself.  But sooner or later, you won’t be able to keep it a secret any more.”

Shame and irritation burned in Wraith’s face, in her chest.  She crossed her arms and looked away, puffing her wings.  The detective remained quiet a moment more, then turned back to the mall, sighing as she returned to help the other officers finish getting things under control.