Fic: Loose Ends (Question/Huntress/Question II, R)
Title: Loose Ends
Fandom: DC Comics/JLU
Pairing: Question/Huntress/Question II, in various combinations.
Rating: R
Word Count: 2940
Summary: The Question has one last affair to put in order.
(A/N: originally posted as a dc_kink meme fill)
Oh God if you're out there won't you hear me
I know that we've never talked before
Oh God the man I love is leaving
Won't you take him when he comes to your door...
Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell
--- Sarah McLachlan
Night One
There were scratches on her lock. Huntress knew lockpick marks when she saw them and these were made by a professional. She readied her crossbow and gave the door a gentle push; odd that someone would be careful enough to try and conceal that the lock had been picked yet leave the door ajar. She took a deep breath, held it, and listened.
Rustle of fabric, left of the bed and Huntress smiled. She had them. She slipped inside, then turned on her heel and leveled the crossbow where she heard the sound. Only an instant before she pulled the trigger did she recognize the Question, his hands up in surrender. "Don’t shoot."
"Q!" She holstered the crossbow and whapped him on the shoulder, eliciting a surprised "Ow!" "Why do you keep breaking in? I gave you a key!"
He rubbed his shoulder. "That was almost six months ago. I assumed you would have changed the locks by now as a routine precaution."
Huntress sighed. "Of course."
"Warned you she’d come up weapons drawn," said a new voice, a woman's in the corner. She’s dark-haired and familiar, though Huntress can’t quite place her.
"Since when do you have an accomplice on your burglaries?"
Question shrugged his shoulders. "It’s only burglary if I steal something. This is breaking and entering." Huntress rolled her eyes and glanced at the woman, who shook her head with a Hey, don’t look at me expression. "Helena," he said---her eyebrows raised at hearing her civilian name---"I believe you've met Renee Montoya."
"Oh, right!" she said, the woman's face finally clicking in her memory. "You're GCPD! Bullock's partner!"
"Former."
"Oh. Right." The scandal. "Sorry." She turned back to Question. "That doesn't explain why you brought her to my apartment."
"I wanted to make sure the two of you met. She's going to be taking over for me."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Taking over?"
"As the Question."
A pit formed deep in her stomach. "Why does someone...are you retiring?" Even as she said the words she knew that wasn't it.
A heartbeat passed before he answered. "I'm dying."
She felt like Batman had just punched her. "Dying? I...how?"
"Cancer." The stark way he said it was what convinced her it was true. No theory, no conspiracy, just that one horrible word. "The chemicals that make my mask function. They turned out to be more carcinogenic than I'd suspected."
She almost wanted to laugh. "Seriously? The expert on all the ways the government is giving us cancer and that's what gets you?"
He shrugged. "It's always the one you don't see coming."
She swallowed hard. "How long?"
"Six months. Maybe eight, with clean living."
Her legs were jelly. "Okay. Okay, we can take care of this. We know lots of people...."
"Helena...."
"Zatanna! Zatanna can fix this! Or one of the other magic people...."
"Don't you think I've considered all that?"
Huntress felt the hope bleed out of her. Question routinely considered things that would never occur to sane people, of course he would have already looked into anything she could come up with. "Baby, you can't expect me to not do anything!" It was so much easier to be angry. "You just come here and drop this on me, and introduce me to your replacement like she's getting me in the will" --- Renee chuckled at that --- "and then tell me there's nothing I can do! There's always something....."
He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her through his mask, through the thing killing him from the inside. "Helena, please," he whispered, and she felt him shaking. "Please. That's not why I'm here."
She wanted to rage at him, scream and yell and throw things until she stopped feeling like a bag of broken glass.
She didn't have the time to waste. She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him on top of her, sliding her hands under his shirt. His practiced hands undid her top; she arched her back at the feel of his rough gloves on her breasts. She heard a gasp of admiration from Renee and looked at her; Renee lowered her eyes, blushing, and rose to leave.
She motioned her to stay. For some reason Q needed this. And if that was all she could do, then Huntress would make sure he got what he needed.
Night Two
The next time he seemed thinner but Huntress still couldn't bring herself to believe the word dying. They actually knocked at the door this time, progress she credited Renee for as she also brought along a bottle of wine like a proper guest.
Huntress didn't want to waste any time. She had Question's jacket off almost before they closed the door; within seconds he was on his back on the bed wearing only his mask and his tie. She undid her robe --- she'd been expecting them --- and let it fall to the floor. Sometimes she could almost hear him smile. "Very nice."
"I've been practicing." She crossed the room and straddled him, smirking at the whispered, "ooh" as he slid inside.
Renee pulled up a chair and watched, an appreciative grin on her face. After a few moments --- there was a spot under his jaw right where the mask connected that always got a great reaction --- Huntress locked eyes with Renee and motioned her over. After a few seconds of silent communication (raised eyebrows from Renee, quick nod from Huntress) Renee came up behind her. She swept Huntress' hair off her neck and started a long line of kisses down her spine, her hands cupping Huntress' breasts. Then one of her hands inched downwards and rubbed; Huntress shivered and swore, her nails digging into Question's shoulders as she came. He pulled her close and she nibbled his ear as he bucked under her, Renee laughing at them both.
***
Late that night Huntress woke to Question in the middle of a violent coughing fit. Despite the obvious pain she could tell he was trying to be quiet; she listened to him choke for long, agonizing minutes as she focused on lying still and pretending he hadn't woken her. When the fit passed she felt him gently brush a strand of hair from her face, sighing in relief at finding her still asleep. She counted the seconds until his breathing deepened back into sleep, her heart pounding like a gong.
She didn't even realize she was shaking until she felt Renee's arms wrap around her waist. Renee stroked her hair as she buried her face against Question's shoulder, holding on as if she did it tight enough she could force him to stay.
Night Three
He’d lost so much weight his clothes looked borrowed. Renee had called ahead to prepare her but Huntress still hadn’t been able to smother her gasp at the change; from the way his shoulders tightened she knew he’d noticed. She tried to not dwell on how carefully he walked, or how Renee’s sharp eyes watched every movement.
He looked more like himself draped over her chair, the tilt of his head telling her how much he appreciated the sight of her reclining on the bed. When Renee disrobed and began teasing her nipple she glanced at him. “Admit it, Q,” she said, smiling for what felt like the first time in weeks, “this has been your goal the whole time.”
“You’ve discovered my cunning ruse.” The cough was a constant companion now, shaking his thin shoulders and rasping his voice. “Curses.”
“Men are such pigs,” she sighed. “I see why you don’t bother with them, Renee.”
Renee took that as her cue and her talented tongue and fingers happily began to turn Huntress inside out. She came almost impossibly quickly, sweat-soaked and shuddering and breathless. “Oh. Oh, you’re...you’re very good at that,” she finally managed, and she heard Question chuckle.
Renee stretched out beside her, an accomplished smile on her face. “Women are pigs, too. We just pull it off better.”
Renee’s eyes lit up as Huntress knelt over her; she hoped her nerves weren’t written all over her face. “So, um...I’ve never exactly done this before,” she stammered, and she was so happy Renee wasn’t laughing at her. “You’re gonna have to direct me.”
“Okay,” she grinned. “You trimmed your nails like I asked?” Huntress nodded. “Good. Now do exactly as I say.” It took her longer than it had Renee, but when the she came gasping minutes later Renee certainly didn’t complain.
Huntress sank back on the bed, sated and sleepy and happy. She made sure to grab Question by the wrist and pull him onto the bed between them, teasing, “Baby, I think you enjoyed that.”
“I did,” he sighed, pillowing his head on her breasts.
When she wrapped her arms around him she could feel his ribs through his clothes. “Sleep tight, baby doll,” she whispered, stroking his hair. He relaxed into the embrace and Huntress wondered how she could feel so good and so terrified at the same time.
Interlude
Huntress didn't know what woke her. Moonlight streamed through the window as she held still and listened, all her senses reaching out for possible threats. After a moment she relaxed, secure there were no intruders in the room.
Question wasn't sleeping either. He shifted beside her, restless; she propped herself up on one elbow and combed her fingers through his hair. "You all right, baby?"
He let out a grunt of annoyance. "Can't sleep through the night anymore. Always tired, just...can't. Didn't mean to wake you." A beat, and then, "I like watching you sleep."
"I can't imagine why people think you're creepy, Q." She slid one hand under his collar and clicked her tongue. "You're sweating," she said, unbuttoning his shirt. She carefully eased him out of his clothes and propped him up against the pillows; while he was distracted she took a moment to fish through his coat pocket and find a small canister. He tensed when he saw it, one hand circling her wrist. "Don't."
"I want to see you."
He shook his head. "No. No, you can see it in my face, you can tell----" he protested before she put one finger over where his lips should be.
"Shush. God, Q, I swear you're the vainest man I've ever met." And she understood; he was afraid she'd flinch, that he'd look in her eyes and see pity. She still wasn't having it. "I want to see you."
He let go of her wrist, swallowing hard. The mask dissolved like a retreating wave, black hair lightening and features focusing. And it was true, she could see the sickness there; sharp, jutting cheekbones, dark circles like bruises under blue eyes that seemed too big for his face. It just didn't matter. "You see?" she whispered, brushing her thumb under his lip. "You're beautiful."
She put the canister away and straddled him, careful to keep as much weight off of him as she could. "Helena, I...I'm not sure I can...." he managed to say before she shushed him again. "We'll find out," she said. "And besides, I can tell that still works," she teased and God, he actually blushed. "Let me do all the work."
He leaned back against the pillows, his fingertips tracing patterns on her thighs.
"Just let me know if I hurt you, baby."
"You're not going to hurt me."
She rocked her hips, watching his lips slowly curve into a smile. His hands moved over her body like he was trying to memorize her with his fingers; their breathing was the only sound in the room and to Huntress it felt like the stillness before Mass, fragile and holy. He came whispering her name, then pulled her to him and buried his face in the curve of her neck. She murmured comforting nonsense in half-remembered Italian as he trembled, his breathing ragged against her skin. "Helena," he whispered, and she suddenly realized that no one might ever say her name that way again, "things I should say...."
"No, there's not." She stroked his hair; even the texture was different without the mask. "We're here on stolen time, baby doll, the both of us. It's why we do what we do." He held her so tight it was almost hard to breathe. "Regrets are for people with the time to have them."
"Heh." He was quiet long enough that she thought he'd fallen asleep. "Thank you for barging into my office that night."
"Thanks for not calling me on my bullshit."
"It was convenient." Another long pause. "I'm tired, Helena."
She fought back the tears pricking her eyelids. "Then get some rest, baby. I'm right here." She glanced up and saw Renee watching them; the other woman wiped the falling tear away before Q could see.
***
When she woke the sun was high and Huntress was alone. She listened to the silence of the room, her heart pounding in her ears. "Then why go to all that trouble to help? Why would you risk your life for me?
"Because I...like you."
She curled up on her empty bed and sobbed herself sick.
Night Four
Huntress and Nightwing were wrapping up patrol for the night when Dick swore under his breath. "Great," he muttered. "Who is this supposed to be?"
She followed his gaze and felt the hairs on her neck rise when she spotted a woman in a hat and trenchcoat standing on a rooftop across the street. She raised her head and Huntress saw her face --- or, rather, a flat, featureless plane where a face should be.
The air was too thick to breathe; the crossbow dropped from her hands without her even noticing. "Huntress? Hey, what's wrong?" she heard Dick say, from miles away. He touched her shoulder. "Helena?"
The touch snapped her out of it. When she looked back Renee was gone but it didn't matter. She'd delivered the message. Dick said something about how they should check this out, this could be a problem, but Huntress was already backing away across the rooftop. She shook off his attempt to grab her and clambered down the fire escape, dropped hard to the ground and threw up until her sides ached.
***
Barbara said once that you couldn't cross the street in Gotham without tripping over criminals and detectives. Crouching in the hallway picking the lock to Renee Montoya's front door, Huntress wondered which she counted as. Probably a little of both.
By the time Renee swung the door open hours later she'd paced the floor enough times to lose count twice. Renee stood in the doorway a moment, her new face shadowed under her hat. "I guess I should give you a key."
"Depends. How often are you changing the lock?"
"Good point." The mask altered her voice more than it had his, just driving home how it was the wrong voice. "He said you'd find me quick."
Huntress' mouth was so dry at was hard to speak. "When? I mean, when did...."
"Five days ago." She felt like she should have known. "It took time getting back in the country," Renee explained. "It was peaceful, at least. He...."
"I can't hear this," Huntress said, sinking to the bed with her head in her hands. "I can't. Not now. Later. Later I'll want to hear everything, but not now."
"He said you'd say that, too." She leaned against the door, her gloved hands in her pockets.
She even stood like him now. Huntress dug her fingers into the mattress. This had been a mistake. It was too soon. It would always be too soon. "I should go."
"Why?" Renee tilted her head with the question; the chemicals had lengthened her hair and a strand of long curls fell over her blank face. Huntress fought the urge to get up and brush the hair away, grinding her teeth; Huntress hated needing anything.
"I...."
Before she could force out another word Renee was next to her. "You don't have to ask. I got you in the will, remember?"
Huntress let out a choked laugh and pressed her face into Renee's hair; she smelled like Gotham rain and the incense Question burned when he needed to focus. The combination was more comforting than she'd expected. "Could you leave the mask on?" She wished her voice didn't sound so fragile. "And...and maybe the coat?"
Renee nodded. She took her time, gentle caresses and long, slow strokes until Huntress felt like she was vibrating. Renee whispered, "Thinking about doing this has been the only thing keeping me upright."
"Q must have thought he was so smart, setting this up." Renee set about proving him right and Helena didn't have the breath to say anything else.
***
When Huntress woke it was already night and Renee was dressed for patrol. No, she corrected herself, not Renee. Not now. Not wearing that face. "Aren't you worried?" she said. "About..." and then gestured at her face.
The Question shrugged her shoulders. "Vic said he fixed the formula so it wouldn't cause problems. And if it does, well..." She spread her hands. "A year ago I wasn't sure I'd make it through another week. It's worth the price." She shook her head. "He said he needed an apprentice and I needed a purpose. Damned if he wasn't right."
"What happens?" Huntress asked as Question opened the door. "The two of us. What now?"
She paused. "Now that. That is the question, isn't it?"
-fin-
Fandom: DC Comics/JLU
Pairing: Question/Huntress/Question II, in various combinations.
Rating: R
Word Count: 2940
Summary: The Question has one last affair to put in order.
(A/N: originally posted as a dc_kink meme fill)
Oh God if you're out there won't you hear me
I know that we've never talked before
Oh God the man I love is leaving
Won't you take him when he comes to your door...
Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell
--- Sarah McLachlan
Night One
There were scratches on her lock. Huntress knew lockpick marks when she saw them and these were made by a professional. She readied her crossbow and gave the door a gentle push; odd that someone would be careful enough to try and conceal that the lock had been picked yet leave the door ajar. She took a deep breath, held it, and listened.
Rustle of fabric, left of the bed and Huntress smiled. She had them. She slipped inside, then turned on her heel and leveled the crossbow where she heard the sound. Only an instant before she pulled the trigger did she recognize the Question, his hands up in surrender. "Don’t shoot."
"Q!" She holstered the crossbow and whapped him on the shoulder, eliciting a surprised "Ow!" "Why do you keep breaking in? I gave you a key!"
He rubbed his shoulder. "That was almost six months ago. I assumed you would have changed the locks by now as a routine precaution."
Huntress sighed. "Of course."
"Warned you she’d come up weapons drawn," said a new voice, a woman's in the corner. She’s dark-haired and familiar, though Huntress can’t quite place her.
"Since when do you have an accomplice on your burglaries?"
Question shrugged his shoulders. "It’s only burglary if I steal something. This is breaking and entering." Huntress rolled her eyes and glanced at the woman, who shook her head with a Hey, don’t look at me expression. "Helena," he said---her eyebrows raised at hearing her civilian name---"I believe you've met Renee Montoya."
"Oh, right!" she said, the woman's face finally clicking in her memory. "You're GCPD! Bullock's partner!"
"Former."
"Oh. Right." The scandal. "Sorry." She turned back to Question. "That doesn't explain why you brought her to my apartment."
"I wanted to make sure the two of you met. She's going to be taking over for me."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Taking over?"
"As the Question."
A pit formed deep in her stomach. "Why does someone...are you retiring?" Even as she said the words she knew that wasn't it.
A heartbeat passed before he answered. "I'm dying."
She felt like Batman had just punched her. "Dying? I...how?"
"Cancer." The stark way he said it was what convinced her it was true. No theory, no conspiracy, just that one horrible word. "The chemicals that make my mask function. They turned out to be more carcinogenic than I'd suspected."
She almost wanted to laugh. "Seriously? The expert on all the ways the government is giving us cancer and that's what gets you?"
He shrugged. "It's always the one you don't see coming."
She swallowed hard. "How long?"
"Six months. Maybe eight, with clean living."
Her legs were jelly. "Okay. Okay, we can take care of this. We know lots of people...."
"Helena...."
"Zatanna! Zatanna can fix this! Or one of the other magic people...."
"Don't you think I've considered all that?"
Huntress felt the hope bleed out of her. Question routinely considered things that would never occur to sane people, of course he would have already looked into anything she could come up with. "Baby, you can't expect me to not do anything!" It was so much easier to be angry. "You just come here and drop this on me, and introduce me to your replacement like she's getting me in the will" --- Renee chuckled at that --- "and then tell me there's nothing I can do! There's always something....."
He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her through his mask, through the thing killing him from the inside. "Helena, please," he whispered, and she felt him shaking. "Please. That's not why I'm here."
She wanted to rage at him, scream and yell and throw things until she stopped feeling like a bag of broken glass.
She didn't have the time to waste. She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him on top of her, sliding her hands under his shirt. His practiced hands undid her top; she arched her back at the feel of his rough gloves on her breasts. She heard a gasp of admiration from Renee and looked at her; Renee lowered her eyes, blushing, and rose to leave.
She motioned her to stay. For some reason Q needed this. And if that was all she could do, then Huntress would make sure he got what he needed.
Night Two
The next time he seemed thinner but Huntress still couldn't bring herself to believe the word dying. They actually knocked at the door this time, progress she credited Renee for as she also brought along a bottle of wine like a proper guest.
Huntress didn't want to waste any time. She had Question's jacket off almost before they closed the door; within seconds he was on his back on the bed wearing only his mask and his tie. She undid her robe --- she'd been expecting them --- and let it fall to the floor. Sometimes she could almost hear him smile. "Very nice."
"I've been practicing." She crossed the room and straddled him, smirking at the whispered, "ooh" as he slid inside.
Renee pulled up a chair and watched, an appreciative grin on her face. After a few moments --- there was a spot under his jaw right where the mask connected that always got a great reaction --- Huntress locked eyes with Renee and motioned her over. After a few seconds of silent communication (raised eyebrows from Renee, quick nod from Huntress) Renee came up behind her. She swept Huntress' hair off her neck and started a long line of kisses down her spine, her hands cupping Huntress' breasts. Then one of her hands inched downwards and rubbed; Huntress shivered and swore, her nails digging into Question's shoulders as she came. He pulled her close and she nibbled his ear as he bucked under her, Renee laughing at them both.
***
Late that night Huntress woke to Question in the middle of a violent coughing fit. Despite the obvious pain she could tell he was trying to be quiet; she listened to him choke for long, agonizing minutes as she focused on lying still and pretending he hadn't woken her. When the fit passed she felt him gently brush a strand of hair from her face, sighing in relief at finding her still asleep. She counted the seconds until his breathing deepened back into sleep, her heart pounding like a gong.
She didn't even realize she was shaking until she felt Renee's arms wrap around her waist. Renee stroked her hair as she buried her face against Question's shoulder, holding on as if she did it tight enough she could force him to stay.
Night Three
He’d lost so much weight his clothes looked borrowed. Renee had called ahead to prepare her but Huntress still hadn’t been able to smother her gasp at the change; from the way his shoulders tightened she knew he’d noticed. She tried to not dwell on how carefully he walked, or how Renee’s sharp eyes watched every movement.
He looked more like himself draped over her chair, the tilt of his head telling her how much he appreciated the sight of her reclining on the bed. When Renee disrobed and began teasing her nipple she glanced at him. “Admit it, Q,” she said, smiling for what felt like the first time in weeks, “this has been your goal the whole time.”
“You’ve discovered my cunning ruse.” The cough was a constant companion now, shaking his thin shoulders and rasping his voice. “Curses.”
“Men are such pigs,” she sighed. “I see why you don’t bother with them, Renee.”
Renee took that as her cue and her talented tongue and fingers happily began to turn Huntress inside out. She came almost impossibly quickly, sweat-soaked and shuddering and breathless. “Oh. Oh, you’re...you’re very good at that,” she finally managed, and she heard Question chuckle.
Renee stretched out beside her, an accomplished smile on her face. “Women are pigs, too. We just pull it off better.”
Renee’s eyes lit up as Huntress knelt over her; she hoped her nerves weren’t written all over her face. “So, um...I’ve never exactly done this before,” she stammered, and she was so happy Renee wasn’t laughing at her. “You’re gonna have to direct me.”
“Okay,” she grinned. “You trimmed your nails like I asked?” Huntress nodded. “Good. Now do exactly as I say.” It took her longer than it had Renee, but when the she came gasping minutes later Renee certainly didn’t complain.
Huntress sank back on the bed, sated and sleepy and happy. She made sure to grab Question by the wrist and pull him onto the bed between them, teasing, “Baby, I think you enjoyed that.”
“I did,” he sighed, pillowing his head on her breasts.
When she wrapped her arms around him she could feel his ribs through his clothes. “Sleep tight, baby doll,” she whispered, stroking his hair. He relaxed into the embrace and Huntress wondered how she could feel so good and so terrified at the same time.
Interlude
Huntress didn't know what woke her. Moonlight streamed through the window as she held still and listened, all her senses reaching out for possible threats. After a moment she relaxed, secure there were no intruders in the room.
Question wasn't sleeping either. He shifted beside her, restless; she propped herself up on one elbow and combed her fingers through his hair. "You all right, baby?"
He let out a grunt of annoyance. "Can't sleep through the night anymore. Always tired, just...can't. Didn't mean to wake you." A beat, and then, "I like watching you sleep."
"I can't imagine why people think you're creepy, Q." She slid one hand under his collar and clicked her tongue. "You're sweating," she said, unbuttoning his shirt. She carefully eased him out of his clothes and propped him up against the pillows; while he was distracted she took a moment to fish through his coat pocket and find a small canister. He tensed when he saw it, one hand circling her wrist. "Don't."
"I want to see you."
He shook his head. "No. No, you can see it in my face, you can tell----" he protested before she put one finger over where his lips should be.
"Shush. God, Q, I swear you're the vainest man I've ever met." And she understood; he was afraid she'd flinch, that he'd look in her eyes and see pity. She still wasn't having it. "I want to see you."
He let go of her wrist, swallowing hard. The mask dissolved like a retreating wave, black hair lightening and features focusing. And it was true, she could see the sickness there; sharp, jutting cheekbones, dark circles like bruises under blue eyes that seemed too big for his face. It just didn't matter. "You see?" she whispered, brushing her thumb under his lip. "You're beautiful."
She put the canister away and straddled him, careful to keep as much weight off of him as she could. "Helena, I...I'm not sure I can...." he managed to say before she shushed him again. "We'll find out," she said. "And besides, I can tell that still works," she teased and God, he actually blushed. "Let me do all the work."
He leaned back against the pillows, his fingertips tracing patterns on her thighs.
"Just let me know if I hurt you, baby."
"You're not going to hurt me."
She rocked her hips, watching his lips slowly curve into a smile. His hands moved over her body like he was trying to memorize her with his fingers; their breathing was the only sound in the room and to Huntress it felt like the stillness before Mass, fragile and holy. He came whispering her name, then pulled her to him and buried his face in the curve of her neck. She murmured comforting nonsense in half-remembered Italian as he trembled, his breathing ragged against her skin. "Helena," he whispered, and she suddenly realized that no one might ever say her name that way again, "things I should say...."
"No, there's not." She stroked his hair; even the texture was different without the mask. "We're here on stolen time, baby doll, the both of us. It's why we do what we do." He held her so tight it was almost hard to breathe. "Regrets are for people with the time to have them."
"Heh." He was quiet long enough that she thought he'd fallen asleep. "Thank you for barging into my office that night."
"Thanks for not calling me on my bullshit."
"It was convenient." Another long pause. "I'm tired, Helena."
She fought back the tears pricking her eyelids. "Then get some rest, baby. I'm right here." She glanced up and saw Renee watching them; the other woman wiped the falling tear away before Q could see.
***
When she woke the sun was high and Huntress was alone. She listened to the silence of the room, her heart pounding in her ears. "Then why go to all that trouble to help? Why would you risk your life for me?
"Because I...like you."
She curled up on her empty bed and sobbed herself sick.
Night Four
Huntress and Nightwing were wrapping up patrol for the night when Dick swore under his breath. "Great," he muttered. "Who is this supposed to be?"
She followed his gaze and felt the hairs on her neck rise when she spotted a woman in a hat and trenchcoat standing on a rooftop across the street. She raised her head and Huntress saw her face --- or, rather, a flat, featureless plane where a face should be.
The air was too thick to breathe; the crossbow dropped from her hands without her even noticing. "Huntress? Hey, what's wrong?" she heard Dick say, from miles away. He touched her shoulder. "Helena?"
The touch snapped her out of it. When she looked back Renee was gone but it didn't matter. She'd delivered the message. Dick said something about how they should check this out, this could be a problem, but Huntress was already backing away across the rooftop. She shook off his attempt to grab her and clambered down the fire escape, dropped hard to the ground and threw up until her sides ached.
***
Barbara said once that you couldn't cross the street in Gotham without tripping over criminals and detectives. Crouching in the hallway picking the lock to Renee Montoya's front door, Huntress wondered which she counted as. Probably a little of both.
By the time Renee swung the door open hours later she'd paced the floor enough times to lose count twice. Renee stood in the doorway a moment, her new face shadowed under her hat. "I guess I should give you a key."
"Depends. How often are you changing the lock?"
"Good point." The mask altered her voice more than it had his, just driving home how it was the wrong voice. "He said you'd find me quick."
Huntress' mouth was so dry at was hard to speak. "When? I mean, when did...."
"Five days ago." She felt like she should have known. "It took time getting back in the country," Renee explained. "It was peaceful, at least. He...."
"I can't hear this," Huntress said, sinking to the bed with her head in her hands. "I can't. Not now. Later. Later I'll want to hear everything, but not now."
"He said you'd say that, too." She leaned against the door, her gloved hands in her pockets.
She even stood like him now. Huntress dug her fingers into the mattress. This had been a mistake. It was too soon. It would always be too soon. "I should go."
"Why?" Renee tilted her head with the question; the chemicals had lengthened her hair and a strand of long curls fell over her blank face. Huntress fought the urge to get up and brush the hair away, grinding her teeth; Huntress hated needing anything.
"I...."
Before she could force out another word Renee was next to her. "You don't have to ask. I got you in the will, remember?"
Huntress let out a choked laugh and pressed her face into Renee's hair; she smelled like Gotham rain and the incense Question burned when he needed to focus. The combination was more comforting than she'd expected. "Could you leave the mask on?" She wished her voice didn't sound so fragile. "And...and maybe the coat?"
Renee nodded. She took her time, gentle caresses and long, slow strokes until Huntress felt like she was vibrating. Renee whispered, "Thinking about doing this has been the only thing keeping me upright."
"Q must have thought he was so smart, setting this up." Renee set about proving him right and Helena didn't have the breath to say anything else.
***
When Huntress woke it was already night and Renee was dressed for patrol. No, she corrected herself, not Renee. Not now. Not wearing that face. "Aren't you worried?" she said. "About..." and then gestured at her face.
The Question shrugged her shoulders. "Vic said he fixed the formula so it wouldn't cause problems. And if it does, well..." She spread her hands. "A year ago I wasn't sure I'd make it through another week. It's worth the price." She shook her head. "He said he needed an apprentice and I needed a purpose. Damned if he wasn't right."
"What happens?" Huntress asked as Question opened the door. "The two of us. What now?"
She paused. "Now that. That is the question, isn't it?"
-fin-