it's close to midnight and isla is parked in a back alley, helmet resting against one thigh as she thumbs through her contacts to call elena. earlier that evening, her husband and a handful of friends mysteriously went missing. it hadn't been confirmed that they were in fact missing, or if the group of them had gotten together and gone on a bender, but that didn't stop isla from taking to the streets. even in the november chill, she found it quicker to take her bike, knowing it'd be eaiser for her to slip down allies and weave through cars if she had to. but, after what seemed like hours of combing boston for answers, isla continued coming up empty handed.
all she could do was go home and hope he'd be there. she wasn't surprised that he wasn't when she arrived, but at least if he came home, she'd be there waiting for him. the kids were awake and watching the news for anything suspicious when she finally fell onto the couch between them around four in the morning. putting her head between her hands, isla began to cry.
7:25am
arms stretched above her and toes pointed, dinah gave a large cat-like stretch and rolled over to curl into slade to steal his warmth. when she found the spot next to her empty, she frowned. she wasn't all that unfamiliar with him being up and out of bed before her, but on the occasion that he wasn't too restless to lay there, she enjoyed being able to wrap her arms around him. today wasn't one of those days and she sighed. closing her eyes, she let herself drift back to sleep, only gently interrupted by the older of his three cats jumping into bed with her.
9:53am
finally rising from her spot, she looks back at his empty spot and frowned. a small part of dinah had hoped he'd get back into bed, but she wasn't surprised to see that he hadn't. going about her usual morning routine, dinah grabbed his shirt from the floor and slid it on, accompanying a loose pair of pajama pants that were crumpled at her side of the bed. after washing her face, brushing her teeth, and pulling the tangled mess that was her bed head into a high messy bun, she finally made her way into the kitchen, half expected to be greeted with the warm smell of coffee and french toast.
when she arrived, neither of those things greeted her. just an empty, quiet kitchen. none of this struck her as particularly alarming. slade had a way of coming and going, and as far as she was concerned he could have been down the street buying cigarettes or picking up cream for coffee. unperturbed, dinah made herself a cup of coffee and went to sit on the couch with her lounging dog. the dog didn't seem at all phased by the lack of slade either, and nor did the three cats, two of which were bounding through the loft like jungle cats. she turned on the news and settled in until the dog woke up and decided she needed to go out.
11:17am
after no word from slade, she sent him a text:
Hey old man, just checking in to make sure you're still alive. Bring me something good.
dinah hit send, but inside she felt a pang of worry that she tried to ignore. she thought by now, he would have at least given her a clue as to where he was. then again, he was full of surprises this week. first disabling the cameras around wildecat, then ambushing her as she tirelessly trained awaiting his arrival. this could've easily been another one of his training exercises, she supposed.
12:00pm
dinah busied herself with cleaning up his loft. she still felt the guilt creep into her system whenever she was there, and used this as not only a coping mechanism for herself, but a bit of a peace pipe for him. even though things had been in a relatively calm spot for the two of them, she still looked around his loft and remembered the damage she caused back in november when she tore through here, possessed and blood thirsty. at times, especially when alone, the bad vibes radiating from the walls overwhelmed her.
1:10pm
there's a closet she's never seen before and dinah opens it to find racks of weapons and what appears to be security footage. it never occurred to her that he had the place rigged (and now she hoped she hadn't done anything embarrassing while left alone in his wake) so she sat down in hopes that the cameras would tell a different story.
1:45pm
tears were rolling down her hot, flushed cheeks and dinah didn't notice until the dog had come and nudged her with a whine. quickly, she wiped the tears away and took a shaky breath. what she had seen on the security footage wasn't what she was looking for, but instead something she was hoping she'd never have to relive again.
a disc labled '11.04.15' caught her attention, eyes narrowed as she took it into her hands. she knew what this was. that date was seered into her memory bank as a day she hoped she'd never have to relive again. but something inside of dinah compelled her to put the disc in the computer and she sat back and watched.
even now, two months later, she couldn't believe she had it in her to do such a hateful thing. she went as far as trying to corrupt one of her only friends and then begged him to put an end to her life when she couldn't get him to side with her. her hand rested on her throat where he held her against the wall that day, almost able to feel the tight grip, as if he were there with her. dinah frowned as she watched. she winced every time they hit one another, and gasped as she saw him take her down from a different angle. the bruises left that day reminded her of what transpired between the two allies for what seemed like months after that.
when it was over, she sat there, staring blankly at the screen, the dog now laying at her feet in attempt to comfort its owner. taking a deep breath, she finally took the disc out of the computer and put it back where it belonged in the case, but she was not leaving that there for him the relive. it was coming with her and dinah would find a way to destroy it.
2:00pm
there was a message from kate bishop about a mysterious amount of people who've vanished without a trace. dinah already forgot that she had gone to the security tapes for that reason, but it clicked when it was suspected that the gems were back in play. quickly, she ran to the bedroom to grab her clothes and stuff them in her bag, calling slade as she pulled a pair of jeans on as fast as she could.
Hey, it's me. I don't know where you are, but I'm really worried, okay? Just text me or something so I know you're still alive.
She paused and thought of how to end the voicemail.
I---just be careful, alright? If you need help, let me know.
When she hung up, Dinah sighed, more of a groan than anything and she turned towards the bed to grab the leather jacket that laid on top of her bag. From the corner of her eye, she saw the light of a phone screen next to his bed and sighed.
He was gone. He didn't have his phone. Slade Wilson was in trouble.
tuesday night
9:00pm
He's locked away behind his door and she's sneaking past it. There's a bar down the street and she feels like it's a good night for a fight. Dinah dons a pair of leather pants and haggard combat boots. A plaid shirt is tied off above her waist and her hair is up tight, held by a black bandana. She looks like any normal bar patron, but she's not.
It's a short enough walk that she doesn't get harassed, but long enough that she can smoke and ease her mind. It had been a while since she last went looking for trouble, but tonight was as good as any. She promised herself she wouldn't start it, it just had to find her. For some reason, she suspected it wouldn't be hard.
Dinah could feel sets of eyes on her as she walked into the dark bar. It smelled of musty cologne, stale cigarettes and vomit. She didn't look like she fit in, but it was her type of place. She had memories of taking out whole groups of men in a place like this. Maybe she'd get to relive those memories tonight. She orders a beer and two shots to loosen up. Being alone in a place like this made her heart race and it was hard to hide the smile on her face. Even if she needed help, he was too far to get to her quickly. She was on her own. This was her night.
She's there for what seems like an hour. The bartender was surprisingly chivalrous and friendly. He looked wildly out of place in a bar full of bikers, when he looked as though he belonged somewhere trendier with a better smelling crowd. They make small talk and she instantly befriends he and his female coworker. They trade stories and names. In this bar, Dinah calls herself Rosie and she's on her way up to New York City. It's her first time out of Nashville since she was a little girl. They buy the story and she buys another drink.
After a while, she slips away to the bathroom. Surprisingly, she forgot why she was there and has enjoyed her time too much with the people at the bar. It's getting late and she checks her phone to see if anyone was looking for her. Unsurprisingly, there's no messages and she goes about her business. Dinah steps out of the bar through the back door for some fresh air. She takes a seat on a milk crate and lights a cigarette.
It's kind of disappointing, she realizes. Not a mugging, not a fist fight, nothing. For a bar full of bikers, they seem to be a relatively friendly bunch. Of course she knows not to ever judge a book by its cover, but this group of gentleman seemed friendlier than normal. She likes it inside and plans to spend the rest of her evening there until she's obliterated and has to call for someone to drag her back to the hotel. It was the perfect way to end the trip. No responsibilities, no regrets. This night in particular makes up for the ones that weren't worth writing home about.
Taking a deep breath, she stuffs her cigarette out on the pavement and gets up to go back inside. Above the bar, she hears glass break and looks up. There's apartment rows all along the top floor of this building and she groans. This was what Dinah was looking for and she had to fulfill her duties. Using the milk crate, she pushes it to the nearest fire escape and uses it to lift her higher so she could jump up and grab the ladder. It's not her place to get in between a domestic disturbance, which was what it sounded like, but it pulled at her heartstrings in the way that it reminded her of her own.
She climbs the ladder and hops onto the escape, following it to the open window where she heart the sound. There's arguing, but they weren't fighting. She slowly sticks her head in the window, and it's not what she thought it was at all. One of them was arguing about the glass being broken, which from what she could hear was a table lamp that lit their way. It wasn't a dispute at all, it was a robbery. A poor one at that.
Dinah lifted the screen and climbed through the window quietly. It sounded like they were a room or two away now and she used the walls to guide her to an open door. Following their voices, she made her way towards them and settled in the kitchen. She flipped on the light above the sink and heard the two voices go quiet. Their murmurs were about the light being turned on and they argued over who would go see who it was. Dinah waited, excited for a fight.
When one of the voices finally made its way towards the kitchen, it wielded a knife and his face was covered by a black mask. "What are you doing here?" He asked, standing in the threshold that led into the kitchen.
"I'm just wondering why you're rummaging through the bathroom. You won't find anything in there. Maybe some blood pressure meds or Tramadol, but you're probably wasting your time," she retorted, her voice full of more amusement than anything. Dinah folded her arms and smiled. "You're not very good at this. I heard you break the lamp from the street. Anyone could've heard that and called the cops. You got lucky."
"Lucky? How'd we get lucky, lady?" He approached her by three steps and Dinah didn't budge from her seat. Instead, she laughed, taunting the man with the knife.
"I won't call the cops. I won't even tell anyone you were here. You just gotta leave now and never come back."
Despite what certain people thought of her, Dinah didn't approach everything with violence first. It wasn't always her first choice, and it wasn't always her last resort, either. But it was definitely her favorite and she was hungry for it, even if the night wasn't unfolding to be a particularly physical one. If she was lucky, she'd get a couple of decent shots in. If he was lucky, she'd go easy on him.
"And if we don't leave, what are you going to do about it, blondie?" A few more steps were taken towards her and Dinah finally stood from her spot, rotating her neck each direction as she cracked it.
"What did you just call me?" She asked, fingers running along side the center island in the kitchen as she walked around it, approaching him with caution.
He took a step forward, challenging her and Dinah smirked. "I said, what are you going to do about it blondie?"
Dinah didn't like that. She hated when people used nicknames on her, specifically that one, and only one person was allowed to use it. "I don't like that name," she admitted, maybe a little bit of a taunting pout in her voice as she came closer to him. He was much larger than she realized, but he didn't seem like he would be a problem. "I'll give you one chance to apologize and call me something else, or I'll break your teeth."
The man laughed and called his partner in. "Dude, you gotta take a look at this broad. She thinks she's tough shit. Turns out she really loves being called blondie, too." He laughed and when the second man came in, they both looked at her, disregarding the fact that she wasn't backing down, and she was a lot more lethal than they expected.
She sighed and shrugged. "Look, I hate to be the party pooper here, boys, but I gave you a chance. You could have left. You could have walked out the door and I would have let you. But you didn't, and you called me a name. You really blew your opportunity and you're going to have to pay for it."
She was hardly paying attention to them cautiously closing in on her as she pulled off her plaid shirt just to reveal a plain black tank top beneath. Without the extra layer and tight sleeves, she could move better. She waited as they got closer, pretending that she wasn't paying attention, but she was. She was merely biding her time until they got close enough. When one charged, Dinah immediately struck him with the palm of her hand and he stumbled back. They didn't look like they'd be hard to beat, so she wanted to enjoy this.
The other one ran at her, but not because he was trying to charge her, he was trying to get out. "Don't be stupid," she tautned, coming up behind him while he fumbled to unlock the door. "You're not going anywhere. We're just getting started." She grabbed the back of his black mask and bounced his head off the door to distract him. She went back and forth, getting her punches in, but going relatively easy on them as they didn't seem to know what hit them at that point. She was hoping for more of a fight.
When they were both in a pile on the ground, blood streaming from their noses and black eyes already forming, Dinah stood above them with her hands on her hips. "Sorry it had to be this way, boys. I gave you a golden opportunity. You should really try to take Kenny Rogers' advice more often. You should've folded." She winked and turned to walk away. She'd call the cops from the alley, leave them an anonymous tip about the men in the apartment above the bar. Half way out she heard one of them mumble something crude along the lines of 'you'll get yours, bitch.' Dinah turned on her heels and walked back the grabbed the man by the throat. "Say it one more time," she hissed, her face inches from his, the smell of blood polluting her airwaves and almost making her gag.
"You'll get yours," he repeated, and spit a mouthful of blood in her face. Without a second of hesitation, Dinah opened her mouth and screamed, and he was lucky he could use his hands to block his ears or he'd be deaf. Although it was a relatively lightweight cry, the glass around them shattered and car alarms in the street below went off. She could see the blood coming from his ears and she stopped. Both men crumpled over and before she thought a second too long about it, she left the way she came in and rather than jumping back down towards the alley way, Dinah made her way to the roof and proceeded to find an alternate route home. From the roof, she called the cops and took off in the direction of her hotel.
It's nights like this when she wished she wasn't alone. She felt fantastic and didn't have anyone to share it with.
