HOMEMADE DYNAMITE !
❝ WELL SHIT. ❞

JESSICA RHODES WAS NOT HAVING A GOOD DAY. After travelling, and she can not emphasise this enough, literally hundreds of miles to find Richard Grayson when his faced popped up on the Batcave radar, she had been handed babysitting duty. She was babysitting the antichrist. And that was after nearly getting her ears deafened and her body shattered by the aforementioned omen and her boss'-former-partner's-ex-teammate.

And now? Well now she couldn't find the girl she was supposed to be looking after, anyway. Typical. Jess let out a huff, tapping a tarnished nail on the wooden bannister she leant against. There was a staircase spiralling downwards beside her, a lift fitted next to it. She wanted to investigate (working with Batman had that effect), but the more logical side of her said that finding Rachel was the main objective.

Finally, the one (and she really meant one) nun in this whole damn place she knew, wandered past her. She cleared her throat and hurried after the older woman, nearly tripping over the laces of her boots that had come undone in the process.

"Um, excuse me," Jess said awkwardly, watching the woman stop and turn to her, "Sorry to be a pain — I'm just curious — you... you haven't seen Rachel, have you?"

The sister stiffened. Her demeanour turned cold as ice and frankly Jess didn't need to really hear her response, because she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. But, more importantly, the seed of doubt had been placed.

"No, dear," the nun smiled softly, "I'm afraid I haven't."

"Okay," the girl replied slowly, "No worries... whatsoever. Not a problem."

Shut up, Jess. Jess cleared her throat once again, awkwardly offering the sister a stiff nod before tripping around and rushing away, heading towards the chapel in hopes that solitude (not that this place wasn't weirdly quiet already) would help her think.

The lilac haired girl found the peculiar sense of unsettlement weighing on her shoulders once again as she pushed open the wooden doors, letting the silence wash over her, the cold and dark room swallowing her whole. She dropped down onto a wooden pew with a sigh, resting her chin against her palm, drumming her nails on the wooden seat beside her with a huff.

Her gaze drifted to the rows and rows of seats before her, to the cross hung in the air, darkened by a shadow cast over it. The only things which moved were the shimmering specks of dust which danced delicately in the sparse beams of light, scattered chaotically by the murky windows high on the walls either side. It was almost tranquil.

But Jessica Rhodes knew better than to trust silence. It was always calmest before a storm, and the sensation running up her spine told her the storm was closer than she dared to imagine. If she was Dorothy, and this was Kansas, then the hurricane was nearly upon her. Something told Jess the convent would fair just as well as Gale house did. That is, not well at all.

She heard scuffling and squeaking. The muffled voices of sister's echoed through the walls and Jess felt her brows knit together. Curious, she stood to her feet, and slowly crept towards the door. She lifted a hand hesitantly, then pressed herself close to the wood as she opened the door a crack and peeked out. Her chest seized up at the sight.

Good news? She'd found Rachel. Bad news? Rachel was unconscious on a stretcher. Worse news? The sisters she trusted so much were the ones wheeling it. (This was exactly the type of trouble which made Jess wish she'd annoyed Dick into letting her come with him and Abby). Breath caught in her throat, Jess watched as they made their way towards the lift she'd seen earlier.

She edged forwards again, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest when the door let out a long whinge of complaint against the pressure. The minute one of the nun's heads moved, she threw herself backwards, tumbling behind the second row of benches behind her and scuttling underneath them, forcing her breaths to remain calm.

Eyes wide behind her circular classes, Jess watched a pair of feet enter the chapel. Her heart was hammering against her chest like a deadman buried alive. She could taste iron and salt water in her mouth, taunting her tongue. Her stomach was doing summersaults and butterflies felt more like bumble bees. The feet shuffled, took a few paces further in, then left.

She wasn't sure how long she laid there afterwards. Paralysed. Fear freezing her limbs. Not daring to move an inch, not daring to breath too loud. She was sure she could. She felt like she was in limbo, terrified, petrified. It was a lot easier to be brave when you knew two trained vigilantes had your back. When you were behind a screen.

Jess clenched her fists, forcing her hands to stop shaking. How was she gonna grow if she didn't start taking risks? Given, trying to save the demonic child she'd known not even twelve hours from a convent of nuns probably wasn't the best time to start that regime — but now or never, right? Right. Totally.

Forcing herself to focus, Jess popped up from behind the pews, Jess leant against the seats, craning over the back of them to see whether the doorway was clear. Her purple hair swung with the force, causing her to splutter and brush it from her face. Hauling herself to her feet, she edged towards the exit.

Peeping around the wooden door, Jess tiptoed out into the hallway, already cringing at how badly she was trying to sneak around. At least the Scooby Gang would be proud of her. When there being not a nun in sight became apparent, Jess upped her speed, heading back towards the staircase she'd spotted the elevator by.

She stopped cold in her tracks when she heard the yells.

The voice was scared, worried. Childlike. The voice was Rachel's. She could hear Rachel screaming for help. She found her chest once again in a vice, and Jess pressed a hand against the stone wall to steady herself. Was she too late? No. She couldn't be.

Jess pushed on, beginning to race down the stairs, not caring how loud her boots sounded against the cobblestone anymore. She reached the bottom of the stairs, and skidded to an ungrateful halt, finding herself face to face with a small handful of nuns, who's gazes instantly shifted to her.

"Oh," she breathed, "Fuck..."

Where the hell were the grownups when you actually needed them?

Her wide eyes glanced down the corridor, spotting a thick iron door, locked and bolted and probably holding Rachel on the other side. So close, Jess. But the nuns now charging at her probably weren't gonna let her waltz down and let her satanic friend wander free.

So she turned in her heels and legged it back up the stairs, taking them two, three at a time in her attempt to stay ahead of the sisterhood's stampede close behind her. The struggle was in vain, as one nun snagging her ankle was all it took for her to stumble. Instinctively, Jess kicked out, wincing sympathetically as she watched the nun's nose crack.

She found herself wearing a less sympathetic, more cringing one as she watched the bleeding nun then take down the rest of the horde in the most grandiose domino effect Jess could hand-on-heart said she'd ever witnessed.

"Well shit," Jess mumbled, before pouting appreciatively, "Should've become a vigilante sooner."

Then she noticed the quiet. Rachel had fallen silent. Something told her it wasn't because she's accepted her fate of a life in a cage. Something told her to run.

A shrill, bone chilling scream broke the veil, piercing Jess's ears and setting every hair on her skin on its end. She clamped her hands over her ears and stood back up, racing as far away as she could from the cell.

She'd barely gotten past the doors to the church when the entire building shuddered, then gave up the ghost. It almost felt like she could see it happening in slow motion. Jess watched the structures around her ignite, atom by atom, into a raging inferno. Watched the force of the oncoming explosion knock her own form backwards.

She felt her bones and body hit the wall. Felt her head hit the ground as she dropped. Felt the heat and the ash and the flames licking her face. Felt the darkness swallow her whole.

Rachel had brought hell to earth.

"JESS! JESS, PLEASE. WAKE UP! JESS!"

The voice was foggy. Far away. Like an old recording from a radio broadcast made decades ago. But maybe that was because of the sharp ringing in her ears, that seemed the only thing she could hear. Everything else? It seemed grey. Lifeless. Inaudible.

Her eyelids peeled open, pupils dilating and contracting as they adjusted to the scene, the carnage, around her. Her other senses came barrelling back, assaulting her body with agony and aching bones. Small but strong hands held onto her shoulders tightly, gripping them like a lifeboat.

"Ugh," Jess groaned in pain, her voice hoarse, "Do I have to?"

"Oh my God." The voice flooded with relief as they pressed a hug to her chest, "You're alive. I... I was so scared. I thought... I thought I'd killed you."

Rachel. The blue hair dominating her vision made it clear who this person was, and all Jess could find herself feeling was relieved that she was okay. She was quickly beginning to learn that there was a difference between Rachel and whatever bore her face and skin when the girl let her guard down. Rachel was worried she'd hurt someone. That thing had done this.

"Me? Killed by a fucking explosion?" Jess scoffed half-heartedly. "Please. I'm from Gotham. Takes more than that to take me out."

Slowly, the girl sat up. Purple hair stained with soot and dust, Jess let out a shaky breath of pain as she felt her back crack painfully. Rachel's grip on her tightened, almost subconsciously, and the pain was gone. Jess had to force the surprise from her face (something whispered that this wasn't the weirdest shit was gonna get — more importantly, this girl had been through enough).

"What... what do we do?" Rachel croaked, terror clear as day on her face.

Jess's gaze trailed across the chaos around them. Across the fires and embers and crumbled blocks and bricks and buildings, across the strewn bodies and blood soaked floors. What did they do? She knew what Batman would do. But this didn't call for heroics or courage or justice. There'd be no justice for Rachel Roth. They'd see a monster, not a victim.

Rachel Roth deserved a chance.

Her brown eyes fell on the blue haired girl in front of her.

"We run."

NOTE!
i delivered a semi-decent chapter can we pls appreciate my punctuality (even tho i was having an existential crisis, like, two hours ago)???? anyway lmao titans is renewed for s3 which (ngl, i love this show — BUT) i didn't expect, so y'all in for a shit show now that i know this series can have more books. hold onto your hats, folks — abby lance hasn't been through anything yet!!

sorry for the abundance of grammatical and spelling mistakes & let me know what you thought, angels! we catch up with abby, dick and kory next chapter 🤧