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She's Not a Saint	By : AsylumWritings Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 489 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman/DC Comics, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 25
- 26
I lay on my side on the bed, watching a show on the laptop. Jon was out, doing who knows what with his drug, and I wasn’t sure when he would be back. I wasn’t concerned about him, he could take care of himself.
It was strange, how quickly and easily I’d settled into this new life, but I was happy here. I had nearly everything I needed and wanted. There was just one thing missing. I needed something to do, rather than reading all the time.
I’d been powered by my anger and drive for vengeance for so long, I needed to figure out who I was without it. I’d never really had any dreams except for finally being free of my past.
“You’re stuck in your own head again.”
I looked over at the door, finding Jon standing there. Sitting up, I gave him a sweet smile. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t quite so perceptive.”
“It’s a blessing and a curse.” He sat down beside me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “What’s bothering you?”
“I feel a little lost, like I don’t know what to do with myself right now.” I closed the laptop, turning to face him. “I’ll be fine, I just need to work out who I am now.”
He softly ran his fingers down my arm. “What were you doing before?”
“You know the answer to that.” I laughed. “It’s why I ended up in Arkham.”
“Aside from that.”
I shrugged. “I worked for my father, but that’s really it. I didn’t have a plan for what I wanted to do, because I never thought I would be able to get past this.” Lying down on my front, right at the edge of the bed, I stared at the floor with a sigh. “I know Papa wanted me to go to college one day, I guess that’s something I could do. But it feels too late for that. I’m thirty years old.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” He gently slid my shirt up my back so he could softly trace patterns on my skin.
I didn’t reply, my attention on his fingers as they drifted over my scars. That gave me an idea, but I was enjoying his touch, and I didn’t want to stop him right then.
“Is there anything I can do?”
I shook my head. “Nothing more than you’re already doing. I love you.”
He leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I love you too. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
I watched him leave, still wondering what I was going to do. I needed to take another couple of days to think. But first, covering up my scars. I no longer needed the reminder anymore, I was done with that part of my life.
I sat backwards on the chair, leaning forward as the tattoo artist worked. It was a little painful, but honestly, after everything I’d been through, it was tame. But I’d been there for a couple of hours, and I was getting tired.
I’d only had the bare minimum of an idea, but the artist, a man named Jack, had been doing tattoos on Papa’s men for over twenty years, so I’d known him since I was a kid. I trusted him, and he knew me well, so I was expecting something I’d love.
“A few more minutes, we’re nearly done.” He wiped it off, then continued. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yep, I’m fine.” I continued scrolling through the news, trying to distract myself from the last of the pain.
It went by faster than I expected, and soon he was cleaning it off and covering it. He took a photo, showing it to me. It was beautiful, a thorny black rose that perfectly covered my scars.
“Thank you, Jack. It’s exactly what I needed.” I hugged him.
“I thought you would like it. I remember you coming in as a kid, you always liked looking at the roses. I’ve had this one prepared for a while for you, just in case.” He started putting things away. “I’m happy to see that you’re doing better. Oh, your father said he’ll pay.”
“Oh!” I was surprised that Papa would do that, and I made a mental note to thank him later. “Well, I will pay you for the next one.”
“Just let me know when you’ve got an idea.”
I stepped outside, feeling sore but happy. Things were different now. I was different. I was my own person. But there was something missing.
“I don’t know where you all are.” I climbed into the car, hoping that Mama and my brothers could hear. “And I don’t know what you would think of what’s happened recently, but I want you to be proud of me.”
Pulling up back at home, I took a second to just collect myself. I was suddenly feeling really overwhelmed, like everything was changing all once. I got out, sitting on the front of the car to watch the sun go down.
“Lili?” I heard Jon call.
I looked over at the front door, and gave him a small smile. “Hey.”
“You’ve been gone a few hours. Is everything alright?” He walked over, sitting down beside me.
“I had to get rid of the last thing from my past.” Turning my back on him, I lifted my shirt to show him the tattoo.
“It’s beautiful.” He softly ran his fingers along my spine, making me shiver a little. “But I don’t understand why you did that now.”
I turned back to face him, taking hold of his hand. “I would have covered it up years ago, but I wanted the reminder so that I could stay angry about what happened to me. That part of my life is over now, so I got rid of the reminder.”
He nodded, carefully wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. Everything was perfect, at least for now, and I’d never felt so comfortable in my life before. I was happy, even though nothing that had happened to me recently had made much sense, but I knew that I would be alright.
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She's Not a Saint