"Strength isn't measured by how much pain you can bear but by how softly you choose to carry it."
---
Quinn & Ink, Gotham
Rain pattered against the neon windows of Quinn & Ink, the tattoo shop that had somehow become Gotham's strangest sanctuary. The smell of ink, coffee and antiseptic hung in the air, blending with the hum of electric needles.
Harley was perched on a stool, sketching a koi dragon on her tablet, gum snapping between her teeth. Rick, one of her apprentice, worked quietly on a client's sleeve at the next station — steady, focused, graceful.
At the far end of the shop, Ace sat cross-legged, eyes closed. The faint shimmer of a psychic barrier pulsed around her like translucent glass — a constant second skin. She was calm now. Whole. The chaos in her mind had found rhythm under King's guidance.
The bell over the door chimed.
Every head turned.
Nika stepped in, rain still glistening in her white hair, red eyes tracing the place like she was walking into a memory she hadn't lived. The air seemed to pause for her.
"So," Harley said, chewing louder to break the silence, "either you're here for ink or for him. Guessin' the second."
Nika smiled. "I'm looking for King."
Ink arched a brow. "You and the rest of Gotham, sweetheart."
Ace opened one eye. "He's in the back. Reading."
Nika blinked. "Reading?"
"Yeah," Harley said, pointing her stylus toward the half-closed door at the rear. "Big scary god man loves fishin' and Dostoyevsky. Who knew?"
Ace stood, brushing her dark hair behind one ear. "You're the girl from the island," she said, voice low but steady. "Flatline."
Nika hesitated. "Was. Now I'm just Nika."
Ace nodded once. "Good. Names are heavy things. Better to carry your own."
Nika walked to the back room.
The lighting shifted. Dimmer, calmer, with the sound of rain softer here.
King sat at a worn wooden table, newspaper folded neatly beside a mug of coffee. A candle flickered beside him. He looked up as she entered.
---
"You found me." He said, voice quiet but unyielding.
"I… needed to." She answered, trying to sound composed. "There's something I can't face alone."
King motioned toward the chair across from him. "Sit."
Nika obeyed, fingers tracing the edge of the table.
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence stretched. It was comfortable but heavy.
---
Finally, she said, "I want to see them. My parents. I left them years ago. After… everything. But now I can't stop thinking about what I'd say."
Her hands tightened. "I thought maybe... maybe you'd tell me how not to fall apart."
King studied her for a long moment. The candlelight drew faint lines across his face, old and thoughtful.
"You don't need to stop falling apart." He said. "You just need to know why you're doing it."
Nika blinked. "That's not much of an answer."
He leaned back slightly, the chair creaking under his weight.
"It's the only kind that works. The people who broke you don't deserve your hate or your forgiveness. But you deserve to stop carrying them."
Nika's voice wavered. "And if I can't?"
King's tone softened. "Then you'll keep coming back to ghosts, thinking they owe you peace. They don't. You have to make it yourself."
---
For a moment, she said nothing. Then, quietly.
"When I saw you on the island, I thought… you were what I wanted to be. Untouchable. Unshaken."
She met his eyes. "Now I see you're just… steady. No matter what the world throws at you, you don't budge."
King gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "That's the trick. Don't be untouchable. Be unmoved."
Nika laughed once. Short, soft, real. "You make it sound easy."
"It's not," He said. "But it's worth the scars."
---
From the main room, Ace's voice echoed faintly, teasing and bright:
"Hey, King! Harley says if you don't come finish the cookies she's gonna eat them herself!"
King exhaled through his nose, almost amused. "She means it, too."
Nika stood, her composure steadier now. "Thank you. For… this. For saving me."
He shook his head. "I didn't save you, Nika. You just stopped dying."
She smiled. Small, genuine and left the room.
As she passed through the shop, Ace looked up from sketching her own designs, eyes glowing faintly.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked.
Nika paused by the door. "Maybe not yet," she said, "but I know where to start."
---
Outside, the rain had stopped.
Nika pulled up her hood and walked toward the streetlights, the sound of laughter from Quinn & Ink fading behind her. The sound of something she hadn't felt in a long time.
Home.
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