GOTHAM CITY, 2008

RAGE.

It was a powerful emotion. Stronger than grief, and just as deadly as wrath. It was placed on a fine line between the two feelings.

Rage could cause a person to do irrational things.

The type of anger that Veronica was currently feeling was a harsh, bitter, stinging kind. The kind that took over her vision and stained it a dark, bloody red. The kind that made her blood boil and heart to pound with adrenaline and hurt.

It was dangerous.

She stormed out of the building, Dick sure to have followed, or at least she presumed. But, even so, she didn't care, because he had broken the one thing that was most important to her.

Her trust.

Was she overreacting? Was it irrational? Veronica didn't know the answer to those questions, and nor did she particularly care in the moment.

Selina exited the abandoned place then, Bruce in tow with his arm wrapped around Selina's left side and his body leaning against hers as they both walked in a slow, steady pace so as to not cause him more discomfort.

"Veronica!" Selina hollered out, but the girl didn't stop her stride.

She knew if she uttered a single word right then it wouldn't end well.

Emotions whirled around inside of her like a tornado, but the one which took hold struck her like a beam of lightning.

"Veronica!" Selina called once more, a hesitant sort of worried tone to her voice.

"What?" She seethed as she spun around on her heel. Her eyes narrowed as they found Dick again, who had been following with a disheveled and shameful look to him.

He said nothing still.

Didn't even look her in the eyes.

Pathetic.

"What's going on? Are you both okay?"

Veronica trailed her gaze back to the woman. "I don't know. You tell me."

"Veronica, we're a team. You need to tell me if something went wrong." Selina spoke, slightly out of breath, some hair falling around her face.

Veronica narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "We're not a team, Selina. We never have been."

The woman's eyes went wide in shock. There was a heavy weight on her chest, almost like someone was pushing down on her and cutting off all airways.

Selina knew it was true.

But denial was something she'd become so accustomed to, admitting the truth felt like a betrayal to herself.

Veronica stood before her, hands clenched in a fist and a type of agony Selina had seen many times before written all over her face.

She knew she was right.

But she just...couldn't admit it.

"How have we ever been a team? Nobody here knows how to trust. Nobody here knows how to care for anyone other than themselves." Her eyes trailed slowly over Bruce, then to Dick. "We're just a few people helping each other out because we created a bond born out of mutual need. We're complete polar opposites from the two we're supposed to have 'teamed' up with. They can't even look us in the eye half the time because they know the second we take down the one thing keeping us banded together they're going to leave!"

They all continued to stare at the girl, shame evident on all of their faces. Too guilty to speak, too afraid.

"To them, we are nothing but dirty criminals on the street. Always have been. We mean nothing. We're just a means to an end, isn't that right, Bruce?" The mans named rolled off her tongue with bitter distaste. He slowly looked up at the girl. Sorrow, guilt and misery clear in his gaze.

Bruce, who claimed to be the saviour of the horrid city they lived in was no better than the city itself.

In fact, he was an exact replica of it.

He just wore a mask to hide it.

And it was time someone tore it off.

Veronica clenched her fists harder, knuckles white. Her hair fell out of the ponytail she had placed it in, thin band finally letting itself snap.

What a perfect moment in time, because she was as well. She was letting all of it rise to the surface after so long of pushing, pushing, and pushing it down.

After so long of pretending, repressing, trying to believe something that shouldn't have been believed in, in the first place.

"I can't go on like this anymore. Like I don't hear the arguments you two have behind closed doors at night. Like I actually fell in love with someone when I don't even know what love is. Like this is all functional when we all know it's not."

Her gaze fell to the floor. She was sure Dick still wasn't looking at her either.

"I don't even know why I agreed to this. It was a stupid idea to think for even a second Bruce and Boy Wonder over here actually cared about us."

Because it was.

It was so, so stupid.

Trying to take down the Joker together, when Bruce couldn't even bring himself to take him down when he'd had so many chances already? When he easily could without their help?

The reason why he couldn't was obvious, at least to her.

Veronica looked back at Selina, then. "We were used, and we used them back. And maybe we all deserve it. Maybe it's time we all get a taste of our own medicine, because we're no better than those we claim we're better than."

The cold, brisk air of Gotham City whipped itself against her face. It was harsh and mean.

Volatile.

No one spoke.

No one had to.

The taste of betrayal, desolation and hatred on Veronicas tongue was pungent.

She turned around and walked away to the trees where she parked her bike, and only out of the eyes of scrutiny, did she let the tears fall.

And they fell hard.

The dam let itself break and the body wracking, pain inducing, breathtaking sobs began.

They didn't even come after her. To try and assure her that she was wrong, they had cared, and while they all had demons that maybe they could figure them out together.

Not even Selina, who claimed to be her mother.
Who had taken her in and cared for her and taught her all she needed to know.

The one Veronica thought loved her, even when she hadn't even said those three words once to her. Yet she was delusional enough to let herself believe it.

Not even Bruce, who had become a mentor to her. Who had given her a different outlook on life, bettered her in combat, helped her through things only she knew he could understand, given her a temporary haven. 

Not even Dick, who she had foolishly let herself care for.

Had he ever cared?

Had he ever thought of her differently, or just tried to trick himself into believing she was what he needed?

Or had he fallen in love with the idea of love, much like she did?

All of it came crashing down, tumbling and crushing her underneath its weight.

Air felt sparse, her head hazy. But she placed her helmet on and forced it down so she'd be able to drive home safely.

Home wasn't at Wayne Manor.

Home wasn't even with Selina.

Home was where she had grown up. Where only ghosts of her past roamed now.

That was where she needed to go, and lay some things to rest.

—x—

Dead and desolate.

That was not only how Veronica felt, but how her home looked. It'd been years. So long she didn't even know the exact amount.

She'd blocked so much out.

Tried to forget so much of the suffering she'd endured.

But now it was time she remembered it.

She flipped the kickstand on her bike. Well, technically it was still Bruce's but the man had enough money to throw away on useless things she was sure he could afford another.

She yanked her helmet off her head and dismounted the motorbike, but grabbed the tiny bottle of liquor in the seat compartment, the one she'd stolen from a store on the way to her destination.

Lord knew she'd need it.

The street was one of the now abandoned ones in Gotham City. The new construction projects for the downtown taking away the appeal for the outer side of the city. Virtually nobody lived here anymore, except for maybe a few homeless and such.

Graffiti littered the walls in an almost artistic way, smashed beer bottles and cigarette butts laid all around, and a kind of stink floated in the air.

Veronica looked up at her old home, and took a swig of the alcohol.

Sometimes when she was alone, the memories of her parents allowed themselves to re-emerge, as few as there may be.

They were never a picture perfect family. Veronica was a temperamental child at best and her parents in the more shady side of business around Gotham, which meant looking after her was on the bottom of their list sometimes.

The night of the car crash was something the girl tried her best to forget, but it never let itself drift from her memories.

No, she remembered it like yesterday.

Veronica thrashed around in the back car seat, sobs and wails and cries of anger pouring loudly out of her mouth.

Her parents tried to shush her, get her to calm down, for they had business to do, but much like the stubborn child she was, she refused.

They'd been on their way to some sort of convention, Veronica had never gotten the gist of which, but she knew it was important. She hadn't wanted to go with, which was the reason for her persistent cries.

She didn't know why she had to in the first place. Where was her babysitter? Why were her parents so tense?

She was confused, angry, tired from driving so long, and hungry.

So she cried.

It was when her father reached back to shush her once more, his face pinched yet tentative, that it all went blurry.

There was a van that pulled up beside them so suddenly. It was a large one, with messy writing on the side, like graffiti.

A purple skull on the vehicle was right beside her window. She remembered looking over at it, thinking nothing of it yet.

The headlights were bright, large beams that were nearly blinding.

Then, there was a loud bang.
And then there was nothing.

Veronica had never learned who killed her parents, or what went wrong, or anything. Though, it wasn't like the police could track her down after she bolted from foster care. But truthfully, she wasn't sure she quite wanted to know either.

Her house was worn now. Withered and decayed. Paint was peeling and some furniture was missing, leaving behind spots untouched by dust in the shape of couches and tables in its wake.

Water damage littered the ceiling.

The floorboards creaked.

She was sure some mice or something lived here now. At least some sort of family inhabited it.

She walked over to the staircase.

It looked unsteady, but she climbed it nonetheless. No floorboards gave, but she was sure on the way down they might. She'd be fine though.

Her room was up here. So was her parents.

She pushed open the door to her childhood bedroom slowly.

Her drawings were still clipped to the wall, though they were semi ripped and the crayon and marker ran down the page like uncleaned bloodstains on a wall. But, for the most part, the drawings themselves were still intact.

A small, sad smile graced her face. She reached out and touched one.

The one of her and her family.

Everything here was still where it was, where it had been. No one in Gotham cared much to sell homes on the outskirts of town.

Then again, no one in Gotham really cared much about anything at all.

Veronica pressed down on her bed lightly, the box spring squeaking underneath the sudden weight after years of no use.

She didn't sit for a fear or bed bugs or such, but for memories sake she let her hands trail over the bed frame, the blanket.

Let her eyes take in the innocence she'd lost.

The love.

And then she left the room, shutting the squeaky-on-it's-hinges door behind her, never to be opened again.

AUTHORS NOTE!

in honour of titans releasing the season three trailer not so long ago, i thought i'd give you guys another chapter ;)

what are your guy's thoughts on season three from what we've seen so far though? personally i can't wait, i love the way they're portraying red hood (🛐🛐) and diving in gotham more, dicks past and bruce's psychopathy. as well as kory and black fires backstory, and introducing barbara‼️

anyways, this timeline is pretty much near done, there's just one more chapter to go which is packed with a shitload so be prepared 👀

i hope you guys are enjoying and thank you so much for reading. your comments always make my day <333