A in the family

“Wally!” he called out. Whatever the circumstances, this was one of the people he didn’t regret meeting. One of the people he felt he should save, even if their friendship was already over.

Charlie was effectively taken out of the battle. The last thing he heard were Babs’ shouting and a sick grating sounded as if Hell itself was portaling through the computers, before the tendrils blocked the battle out of his sight entirely.

Charlie had been in multiple hairy situations lately. While he easily put himself between Metallo and Supergirl, he was couldn’t find an ounce of courage in the present situation. All he felt was guilt... guilt and despair. Whatever Diana's good intentions, this wasn't a battle he's willing to fight. He was an idiot for not noticing a situation that was too good to be true. He wanted come clean. Yet with every minute he spent in Poison Ivy’s custody, that reality seemed less and less likely.

What if he was stolen away to a secret lab again? What if Ivy locked him up and throw away the keys? Or worse, concoct a pheromone based on his power like Lex does?

I need to come clean, Charlie thought. I'll call Superman here and tell him everything. Damn the consequences.

Charlie groped around for the watch with his sweaty hands, but found nothing. The moment Charlie realized Nightwing had swiped the watch during the interrogation, he buried his face in his hands and began to sob. It wasn’t easy crying as a grown man, but the situation just seemed so helpless. Helplessly spiraling out of control. All the good intentions in the world was paving a road to hell and he couldn’t stop single stupid thing.

In between sobs, Charlie wiped sweat off his brow and tears off his face. The enclosed space was becoming warm and humid. His sweat and tears either dripped onto the tendrils below or was aerosolized and absorbed by the tendrils above. The cocoon, saturated with pheromone, pass them onto the plant network in the room. Once that became saturated too, Charlie's pheromone seeped directly into the Green.

Pamela Isley was not in a good place. Like Charlie, she was persevering through someone else's war. And like Charlie, she was at her breaking point. Battered and bruised, she kept up the fight for Harley's sake. Her priority was to retrieved Charlie, true. But there'd be hell to pay if she failed to hold the fort until Supergirl and Powergirl show up for the killing blow. With how bloodthirsty Power Girl sounded earlier, she did not want to find out the price of failing.

She fought Nightwing countless time, but she had never seen such ferocity. Nightwing traded blow with her tendrils without fear for life or limb and got progressively closer with every passing minute. He moved from cover to cover, prioritizing grounds covered over his own well-being. Ivy's original plan was to use Wally then Charlie as distractions while she reinforce vines around each entrance, exit, window, and airduct. With her speed relative to Nightwing, however, she was not going to make it in time. And she hadn't even taken Batgirl to account. Pamela was spread too thin.

In desperation, Poison Ivy reached deep into the Green and she willed forth all the strength she could draw. To her surprise, the Green tided forward aggressive, chanelling itself through her into the tendrils. The tendrils doubled in size, with green and pink flower sprouting forth. The vines on the door too thicken rapidly and formed interlocking patterns.

The surge empowered Ivy just as much as it empowered the plants. Like water rushing into dehydrated plant, the power surge filled her to the brim. The change was slow at first, a simple tingle at the edge of her nerves, a fluttering of her hair standing on ends. The surge seeped in further into the hands, into her scalps, her head. Flowers blossomed in her hair and in her palms. But with this great power came great compulsion.

Protect Charlie. The thought was light as a feather, yet it gripped her head in a vice.

No, she willed herself. The compulsion was setting in, but of all places she did not expect it to come from the Green. She was doing this for Harley and Harley only. Charlie was just a chip and he had nothing to do with anything.

But the more she thought those thoughts, the less in control she felt. As if the thoughts were strenuous to even think.

Protect Charlie, want Charlie, love Charlie. Those thoughts were happy thoughts. Good thoughts. Pleasurable thoughts. Thoughts that made her wet. Thoughts that made her feel feel sexy and in control. In control of her thoughts, her situation. These thoughts were her purpose. These thoughts were her rock.

These thoughts aren't mine. That much she knew. Pamela forcily severed the connection between herself and the Green. She was a proud woman and it is better to die than to live enthralled.

But the thoughts were now hers. She drank from the poisoned chalice. Like a flower dipped too long in dyed water, she took on the pigment. She wouldn't give in but she wanted to. Like all beings in the world, she wanted to feel good. She deserved to feel good. And the only way she could feel good again is to be who she was meant to be.

A batarang caught her dead in the shoulder. A battle was no place for musing. Through the haze of pain, Ivy made out Batgirl's silhouette as she jumped into the air and glided towards Charlie's cocoon. In a panic, Ivy reestablished her connection to the Green and walled off Batgirl, who changed direction midair towards Wally.

No! she thought. If they rescued Wally, this battle is effectively lost. That can't happened. Harley wouldn't be safe if she left Charlie with the three of them. She reached into the Green once more. As a last ditch effort, she drew out all the power she could. The Green gave her pleasure and it gave her power. Power to defend Charlie and pleasure to feel good doing it. She just take and take and take it all like a woman possessed, until it welled in her body and exploded in every cell in her body.

There was good reasons an orgasm was called the little ****. Just like the moment of our ****, we let go of ourselves when we climax. Pamela Isley let go of herself. She gave in. She let the Green Pleasure tided through herself, pleasuring her, healing her wounds. She let herself orgasm and be changed forever. She accepted her place in life. She was Charlie's plant. She was an extension of Charlie's will.

As Pamela's awareness recovered, she saw Batgirl climbing up the tendrils holding the Flash. Batgirl deftly wielded her Batarang like a butterfly knife and cut off tendrils after tendrils until the grip on the Flash loosened. That won't stand. That cannot stand.

With renewed sense of purpose, Ivy commanded the plant to reinforce the cut tendrils. She lunged at Batgirl's blind spot. Batgirl saw her coming and spun around landing a roundhouse kick square on jaw, breaking it. The Green surged forth and healed Ivy, resetting her jaw. At the same time, the tendrils whipped back and smacked Batgirl from behind with the Flash. The impact was so strong it sent her tumbling down from ceiling to the floor.

Poison Ivy was red hot with rage. This cannot stand. This will stand, she thought.

All she saw was red hot rage at their attempt to harm Charlie. Red like the blood on her body and the blood in her mouth. There was even a redness in the Green. It was at once an anger and a will to protect. A will that says this battle cannot be lost. That says, this battle will not be lost. It was red like the pain of those who would seek to harm Charlie. Pamela held up her hand and squeezed it. At the same time, the tendrils tightened around Wally's throat. Slowly and surely, Wally died of asphyxiation. Then the tendrils released him gently back on the ground.

Babs absolutely hated a part of herself. The part that made her more a daughter to Bruce Wayne than Jim Gordon. That part of her saw her friend’s neck snapped and coldly ruled out time traveling as a potential option to fix the messy situation. That Barbara Gordon calmly reevaluated the situation and decided that retreat was the best course of action. That Barbara Gordon was angry not because her best friend was killed, but because the battle just became unwinnable. Unless… unless Charlie could be neutralized permanently. Batgirl shook her head. That’s not who she was. That’s not how the Bat Family operate. Vengeance was not what Wally would have wanted.

Wally West was as much a family to her as her real family. On her nightstand was a photo of her, Kara, Wally, and Dick smiling at a picnic table. They grew up together, each of them a weird kid with a weird secret. They saved the world together countless times and all that times they bore the unspeakable weight of destiny together. Now, the photo became suddenly a thing of the past. A nostalgia that will never be. The good old days, forever out of reach. No matter the resolution of this conflict, they will never go back to the way they were ever again.

Babs’ earpiece crackled to life. She almost smiled at her mentor's voice.

“This is a prerecorded messages to the Bat Family. If you’re hearing this, then the hour is Knightfall. I repeat the hour is Knightfall. Batgirl, Nightwing, this is earlier than anticipated, but you both know the drill by now. Know that the two of you together will run an operation much more efficient than I ever have or ever will.”

“You have something I never had. You are a family. Remember my training and remember my failings. Trust in each other, but prepare for every eventuality. More than Gotham’s Finest, you are humanity’s last line. You are equipped to do the unthinkable and go where no one will.”

Babs nervously opened and closed her pouch. For the first time in her life, she wasn't sure the sun would rise tomorrow. As she fiddled each smoke bomb between her fingers, it dawned on her that the weight was all wrong. They were tampered with and pocketed back in her pouch. Bruce's last gift was so thoughtful yet so cynical she would’ve slapped him if it was given in person.

She stared blankly at the bombs. They stared back her, glowing with a soft green light.

“I am leaving you both the digital keys to my arsenal. Behind suit display three and six, you will find kryptonite suits and a piece of refined gold kryptonite. I also leave Alfred and Damien in your care. Keep them safe for me. Bruce out.”

Babs’ reflexes suddenly kicked in and she recoiled from a high-velocity impact in front of her. The sonic boom knocked her off her feet regardless. She slowly opened her eyes to a pair of red boots and blue spandex. The look on her friend’s face was wrath itself.

From the ground looking up, the S might as well mean sadist.