WITH THE LIGHTS OUT

CHAPTER 38

June

The world around June suddenly becomes visible, along with a jarring sense of detachment. She knows that she is just regaining consciousness after the Enchantress has taken over her body; but always in those first few moments, June forgets that there is even a witch possessing her in the first place. Everything is just as surreal and confusing as birth. As usual, it takes her a while to access memories, and even longer for her to figure out what her final memory was. The whole process sort of reminds her of that film, Memento – with an equally high chance that she has probably killed someone.

Once June has puzzled through her final memory (night-time, on an airport runway in D.C. Cold enough to snow; Rick standing next to her) her surroundings become less abstract. She is on a helicopter, strapped into one of the seats in the aircraft's hanger. Presumably, they are on their way home after the mission in Gotham City. June cranes her neck to look out the small window, but even when she squints, she can't see anything more distinct than the sunset. Apparently, though she can materialize back into her own clothes after twenty-four hours like nothing's happened, she can't re-gain her contact lenses.

Her head is as fuzzy as her sight. Through her swimming mind, June tries to figure out why and how she has lost an entire day; it should still be night time.

Something must have gone wrong.

"Rick?" June asks, half-blind and hating it.

Into her line of sight, a large, dark smudge appears – becoming steadily visible as they get closer.

"I forgot my glasses," she says – frowning up at Rick in an attempt to make his face clearer. All she can see is that he's got his hands on his hips, and is still dressed in his army uniform. June can't make out the expression on his face. But then again, Rick rarely deviated from a permanent look of mild annoyance. "I can't see a thing. Are you okay? You're not hurt or anything, are you?"

"Nah, June, I'm fine –" he says, moving to sit next to her. She goes off of his tone to figure out how he's really feeling, and judging from the heavy sluggishness, he's beyond exhausted. His hand moves to rest on her knee and she hears him lean back in the seat with a sigh. "We just dropped the Task Force off at D.C. We're headin' to Midway City."

"Midway?" June's insides twist. Midway city was A.R.G.U.'s 'official' headquarters when Waller wasn't busy high-jacking state army bases to conduct small-scale round-ups of meta-humans. Midway City was on the West-Coast, even further away from their home than D.C. had been. For a moment, a wave of despair rushes through June. When was this going to end?

"That's where they want to take the Converter...I had no idea."

June is quiet for a long moment, a thousand questions bubbling up in her mind. She forces herself to select only the most important ones, knowing how tired Rick must be right now.

"How…how was it?" she asks, tentatively.

"Honestly? I'm just glad it's over," he replies, bluntly.

June presses her lips together and nods to herself – hearing the weary finality in his tone. Rick has always been made of tougher stuff than most people. He's told her stories of him leading his men in the harshest of conditions. She knows that, one time, he had to lead an expedition on a snowy mountain and his men had got stuck in an avalanche – buried under snow for twelve hours with only an emergency breathing tube to save them from suffocating. So it worries her that a man who can keep moral up through that, now sounds as if he could happily sleep for an entire year.

Rick's hand tightens on her knee slightly. "What else d'you wanna know?" he asks, his tired voice now holding a trace of amusement, as if he can sense her impatience.

"Every tiny little detail –" June half-jokes, though she's being mostly serious. "So...you got the weapon?"

"Yup."

"What day is it? I thought you said it would only take an hour…but the sun's setting so –"

"It's still the same day, don' worry," he reassures her – knowing that she's panicking slightly. "We had to hole up in a safe house for…'bout seven hours, give or take."

"Why?"

Rick blows out a deep breath, and June can just about make out him rubbing a hand down his face. "Maybe I should just start from the beginning –"

" – no," she protests, quickly. "You're tired – you can fill me in on everything later. Just give me the…the straight facts for now. That's all I need."

"Okay…well…we lost the Weasel and Slipknot pretty quick –"

June is physically unable to stop herself from interrupting, even though she promised herself she wouldn't pester him. "How?!"

"I blew Slipknot –"

"Why?!"

"He tried to attack me half-way through a damn shoot-up," Rick bites out – sounding as if a threat on his life is more of an idiotic inconvenience than an actual emergency.

"Rick, he could have killed you!"

"'s not the way it went down, June. Guy's head got blown clean off. You don' come back from that."

"Okay, that's disgusting," June wrinkles her nose at the thought of Rick activating the bomb injected into the criminals' necks. Rick snorts like she's said something funny. "…and the Weasel?" she adds.

"Got hit by a rogue bullet. Couldn'ta stopped it if we tried…just…one of those things, you know? Came out of nowhere."

June's mind races at the words 'shoot-up' and 'rogue-bullet'. Rick was making a covert, secret operation sound like the wild west. Why on earth had they had to change plan and divert to the safe house? How had it gone so badly wrong?

"Do you think Waller will be angry that they're dead?" she asks, eventually.

"Nah. Slipknot would never have fallen in line an' the Weasel wasn't really cut out for it in the first place. She won't care. She's got plenty more meta's locked up to replace those two with…Deadshot and that Quinn girl actually did pretty good. They were kinda useful when they weren't bein' a pain in the ass."

"Katana?"

"Got shot – but she'll live –" Rick adds, quickly, before June can ask if she's alright. "She's actually righ' there gettin' patched up –" he says, pointing down to the end of the hanger where June can make out a fuzzy group of people. "- if you weren't so blind, you would'a seen her straight away."

June kicks his shin in retaliation at the dig.

"Hey –" he shoots at her, though he doesn't move his hand from her knee. After several moments quiet, he asks: "…so? What else you want to know – 'cause that can't be it."

But June shakes her head. "Rick, you've been awake two days straight, just have a nap."

He rolls his eyes. "…I'm used to it."

"Sure you are. But you're not superhuman, hun," she chastises, lightly. "You need to sleep. The mission's over now…I can wake you up when we land."

It doesn't take much persuading. Under June's watchful gaze, Rick rests his head back against his seat, cracking one eye open to look at her. "You don't wanna sleep, too?" he checks, curiously.

June almost rolls her eyes. She's just had the equivalent of a day-long nap. She's wide awake. "I'm fine."

"Alrigh'…lemme know if you need a guide dog or somethin' to find your way around…" he teases, folding his arms comfortably across his chest and shutting his eyes.

"You're hilarious."

June waits until she's sure that Rick is asleep. There are a million questions still racing through her mind, but her first priority will always be him. The need for him to not only be 'OK', but also happy is now almost a primal instinct – it takes her aback how important his health and happiness is to her. Way above her own, on her mental list of priorities. It's an oddly vulnerable feeling – but one that she's getting used to.

June unstraps herself from her seat and makes her way across the hanger – squinting to make out her surroundings and feeling like an idiot. Katana is sat on her own seat; the medics, apparently satisfied with her condition, have dispersed. There's a bulky, thick pad of gauze taped to her right arm and a tray of food sits untouched next to her. June looks at the young woman with consternation.

"You're not going to eat?"

Katana shakes her head, staring down at the sword laid out across her knees. She is methodically wiping the blade down with a cloth, and June feels slightly queasy at the sight of so much blood on the rag.

"…What do you want?" Katana asks June, not impolitely. Still, June starts slightly at the directness of the question, flushing.

"Oh – um – do you mind if I sit down?"

Katana lifts her eyes to June's for the first time. She regards her in such a wary, hesitant manner, it makes June wonder what the Enchantress did whilst she was free. Now that her usual curtain of hair isn't hiding it, June can see numerous scratches and what looks like a splatter of dried blood on the girl's face. It looks like she's just been in the middle of a war zone.

"…Sure."

June picks up the food and sits down, settling the tray on her lap. It didn't exactly look appetizing…the rice starchy and lumpy, along with something dry and chewy that could have once been a pork chop.

"So…you're coming with us to Midway? You didn't want to go home?" June asks, curiously. From what she had heard of Katana, it sounded as if the warrior had been on a one-woman mission to take down the Yakuza. It didn't seem likely she would drop her quest simply to stay in America as part of Amanda Waller's Suicide Squad - unless, of course, Waller had offered the samurai something that made it worth her while.

"For now," Katana replies, shortly.

"Why?" Katana gives June a level look that tells her it's not her business, her hand stilling on her sword. But June continues to push – unable to understand the girl's inexplicable loyalty. "Why not just go home?" she asks, skeptically. It's what she wanted to do more than anything.

"I believe that the man who runs the Yakuza may be a meta-human. He is a more powerful foe than any I have ever faced…Amanda Waller has promised to help me kill him in return for my services."

Kill or capture? June thinks to herself, wondering if Katana is really that naïve. Then June has to remind herself that Katana hasn't been around A.R.G.U.S for as long as June has, and isn't as uncomfortably familiar with how the organisation thinks. An all-powerful Japanese crime lord would be a pretty good edition to their collection of meta-humans. If Katana was looking for blood and revenge, she had gone to the wrong place.

June watches Katana go back to cleaning her blade. She notes that the girl is as prickly as ever, but that after last night there is some new tightness about the defensive hunch in her shoulders. Her face is set like stone in a way that does little to hide her anger.

"What was the witch like?" June questions – almost feverishly - not taking her eyes off of Katana. She needed every little detail about the witch's behavior and June is well aware that getting Katana to open up that much is going to be like squeezing water from a stone. Not for the first time, June badly wishes that she could be aware for these episodes of possession, so that she didn't have to rely on second-hand accounts. "Did she do anything threatening? Say anything to any of you that you thought might have been weird?"

Katana's face, if possible, becomes even tighter. "We lost our cover and were overcome by Bane's mercenaries…if it hadn't been for the witch…the mission would have failed."

June looks at the other woman incredulously – realising abruptly that Katana is jealous, of all things. "What are you talking about?"

Katana looks at her blankly. "She saved all of us," she tells June – her tone blunt, though it is clear she finds no joy in this fact.

June blinks and stares down at the tray of food in her lap, trying to collect her thoughts.

She saved all of us.

The situation is so starkly similar to the months ago when June had discovered that the Enchantress had healed an entire city of the plague. She remembers the giddy feeling of awe – even excitement – that had come after the memory. Now she just feels anxious and suspicious.

"Why would she do that?" June says, voicing her question aloud, only half expecting an answer. "She doesn't…care about any of us. She doesn't care about this world. She hates it."

Katana shrugs, as if it's obvious. "Your people have her heart. It would be suicide…the highest stupidity…to attempt anything. "

But June shakes her head. Coercion aside, something didn't feel right. "That's not the point – it would have been so easy for her to stand back and allow you guys to get killed, right? So why help? What does she gain from it?"

But the young woman goes back to cleaning her sword – clearly not as engrossed with the witch's behaviour as June herself is. To June, the blade already looks pretty pristine, but Katana continues to grimly wipe it down, as if there is still blood there that June cannot see.

June's skin prickles and she forces down a wave of irritation at Katana's reticent attitude. The girl's just spent fifteen hours with the Enchantress – how was it she didn't have any more worthwhile information to tell her? Apparently, for the samurai, it was enough to say that the witch had 'saved them all'.

It wasn't for June.

She opens her mouth and attempts to pry information from a different angle. "How did she interact with the rest of the squad, then?...Was she sympathetic? Did she appear to…identify with the meta-humans from Belle Reve?"

To June's surprise, Katana gives a light snort of amusement. She mutters something to herself in Japanese – before saying to June in precise English: "she seemed to think she was better than all of us."

"Well, she was worshipped as a God for hundreds of years – not that I'm excusing her behaviour or anything –" June hastens to add, as Katana shoots her an unimpressed look from underneath her fringe. "She likes to remind people of it. A lot. I'm not surprised that she brought it up."

Katana heaves a sigh. Having already started off in a pretty bad mood for no apparent reason, its clear her patience is beginning to wear thin and that she would like nothing better than for June to leave her alone. "I am not sure what you want to hear Doctor Moone, but I can tell you that your witch posed us no threat during the mission. She was very protective of Colonel Flag."

Here, Katana's voice drips with biting jealousy once more – obviously feeling that her position as bodyguard had been usurped.

"What?"

June looks at the other woman, thoroughly non-plussed. Of all people, the Enchantress should dislike Rick the most. He had always hated her – always been mistrustful of her, from the very beginning. Rick had been the biggest advocate of killing the Enchantress without a second thought, where June and A.R.G.U.S had insisted on keeping her alive. He had done little to hide his animosity.

But June soon finds that Katana isn't the only person to have a different perspective on the Enchantress to June. The moment they land at the airport in Midway City, a now-familiar sight is waiting for them on the runway: Waller, along with a team of A.R.G.U.S scientists and security personnel who immediately set about loading the Converter into one of the sleek, black SUVs.

June overhears the nearest scientist talking to their colleague as she weaves through the crowd of people. "…this is incredible…" a tanned, Chinese man is muttering to a colleague – and June thinks that he's talking about the Russian-made weapon until he says: "…the discovery of magic is gonna shape this century…fuck, it's gonna shape the history of human-kind - I'm tellin' you…"

June's head whips round so fast, she thinks she cricks her neck, but the man is immediately lost in the general bustle.

There were so many people crowded on the tarmac – at least twenty. June abruptly wonders if they're here for the Converter, or the Enchantress.

Rick is walking next to her; sunglasses shielding his eyes against setting winter sun; unusually strong for this time of year, and streaking the sky a bright, bloody red. Midway City, positioned on the West-Coast, is a lot warmer than D.C. – here June barely even feels a chill, despite the fact that it's November and she is only wearing a pair of khaki trousers and a baggy t shirt that had been given to her out of necessity. She had had nothing else to wear going into the mission beside hoodies and pencil skirts. If she'd known their trip would have extended quite so far beyond Florida and Belle Reve, she would have packed more thoroughly.

"Dr Moone…Flag," Waller greets them both, as ever dressed in a pristine, block-coloured pant suit – this time a crisp white. She does not glance at Katana, who stands – silent and watchful – a little way off. June, with relief, realises that the security guard at Waller's side is holding her tiny suitcase. They hadn't just left all her things in D.C. She rummages through and double checks that the earrings Rick had given her are still there before finding her glasses and finally shoving them onto her face. Everything slides into abrupt focus, and June feels slightly less of an idiot, although standing opposite Amanda Waller, it was hard not to automatically feel inferior.

"Congratulations, Colonel; the operation was a success," Waller says to Rick – only a slight quirk to her lips betraying any kind of satisfaction.

"'Success?'" Rick shoots back, incredulously – sounding irritable and short-tempered despite his nap. "Our cover was blown. We almost got caught by the police, and two of the team are dead. It was a god-damn mess! I ain't seen an operation worse than that…ever."

"It doesn't concern me that the Weasel got his brains shot out. We have the asset and we still have the witch. You did the right thing destroying Slipknot when he stepped out of line…First man through the wall always gets bloody, Flag – you know that," Waller reminds him, calmly.

And finally, June puts her finger on what is unsettling her so thoroughly about this whole thing. Not only is there an excited buzz to the activity around them – a poorly disguised air of anticipation – but Waller almost seems to present the Converter and the Enchantress as linked in some way. June's brow furrows, immediately realising once more that she and Rick don't have the whole story.

"What do you need the Converter for?" she interjects, sharply – not bothering to keep the accusation out of her tone.

Waller turns her unblinking eyes to June. "Doctor Moone…after all this time your levels of perceived entitlement are still breath-taking."

"I know. I'm a massive pain – what do you want with the Converter?" June replies, impatiently, knowing Waller would give all the money in the world to have the witch and the heart, sans June's body. Her involvement and humanity was an annoying, complicating factor in the shorter woman's schemes. "And what does it have to do with the Enchantress?"

Rick glances at June quickly, and she can tell that he hasn't put things together as quickly as she has.

Waller merely looks at June impassively for a moment, visibly weighing something in her mind. "Come to headquarters tomorrow," she replies, eventually. "We want to run some tests."

"I want to know when we get to go home," June says, stubbornly. "- And I'm not a lab rat."

"You'll go home when we're done here –" And when June opens her mouth once more to argue, Waller rolls her eyes, adding: "before Christmas, at least. How's that?"

Rick and June watch Waller climb into the front of the same SUV as the Converter was loaded into and drive away. As the cars begin to disperse one by one, the oddly colourless city of Midway becomes a little clearer in the distance. It is less sleek than D.C., and more sprawling – with fewer green spaces and more concrete. Still, there is a certain rough-edged beauty to the coastal city. The sea is visible in the distance and flat, dessert-like terrain stretches as far as the eye can see either way.

One driver waits impatiently for June and Rick, and it is with a mounting feeling of reluctance that June climbs into the jeep.

"Well," Rick says, as the car pulls onto the freeway – which is merely a massive, pot-holed strip of road in the craggy countryside leading into the city. "Here we go again."

The hotel A.R.G.U.S put them up in is a lot less flashy than the one June and Rick stayed in in D.C. The only plus side is that, as far as June can tell, there are no other A.R.G.U.S employees checked in. Waller herself is elsewhere and Katana had disappeared on the runway. For the first time since Florida, Rick and June are properly alone.

Their small hotel room has been decorated with earthy oranges and greens – a small, spindly cactus sits on the windowsill and the sink tap in the tiny kitchenette drips water. It's dark outside, and it is a relief that June notes the air con instantly comes on the moment Rick flicks the lights, dispelling the oppressive, dry heat.

June throws herself down on the bed with a groan. It's lumpy in the wrong places, and she swears she can feel a spring digging into her lower back. "Urghh – this bed is so hard!" she says, pulling a face and pushing herself up onto her elbows.

"Yeah, that's what she said –" Rick throws at her; only half paying attention as he shrugs out of his uniform haphazardly. His jacket is thrown over a chair, his boots kicked underneath a table; his wire placed on the chest of draws next to the boxy old TV. June doesn't realise he's leaving a snail-trail to the shower until Rick steps out of his pants on the bathroom threshold – so intent on getting to his destination that he doesn't bother to close the door behind him.

A minute later June hears the sound of water spray hitting tiles and she stares into mid-space, thinking hard and chewing on her lip. Something's bothering her – but for some reason her mind keeps on conjuring up an image of Katana. Its several seconds before June realises what her brain's trying to tell her.

She was very protective of Colonel Flag.

June's eyes narrow. Her eyes fall to Rick's trousers lying crumpled on the floor. She gets up from the bed, stepping over the pants neatly. The small bathroom is already steaming up slightly – the off-white tiles beneath her feet damp with condensation.

Rick's back is to her, but he senses her presence and turns. His wet hair is mussed – a strand falling into his eyes. Soap drips down the tattoos across his chest and on his arms…June can't help the way her eyes fix on the defined V of his hip bones, or linger on his muscular thighs.

He doesn't question the fact that she is standing there, but his slow smirk reminds June that she's still fully clothed. She continues to stare at Rick, her mind still racing.

"You gonna stand there all day, or –"

"Just give me a second."

June bends down slowly to unlace her boots. She sits down on the toilet seat to kick off her shoes and Rick gives up on all pretence of washing himself – lounging against the wall and waiting for her to join him, his arms folded.

He's clearly impatient. When June unclips her bra, she notices a muscle in his jaw jump.

"Water's gettin' cold June," he taunts, warningly.

She ignores him, continuing at the same, methodical pace – even folding her socks. Rick watches her every movement closely as she steps over the lip of the tub to stand at the other end. When Rick makes a spasm of movement towards her, June skitters just out of reach.

His eyes narrow. "What game are you playin', hm?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"Right."

She steps closer and this time Rick doesn't try to grab her – just watches curiously as she slowly joins him underneath the spray. Feeling emboldened underneath his gaze, June runs her hands across his chest, distributing the trail of soap suds there evenly across every inch of skin. The soap washes off quickly, and June lathers him up once more – repeating the same ministrations to his arms. With each passing minute, she can feel Rick tensing like a coiled spring. Several times, he lowers his head as if to kiss her, but June refuses to be drawn in.

"You're up to somethin' –" he says, finally, his eyes burning with frustration.

"So? Aren't you enjoying yourself?" June shoots back, biting on her lip to suppress a smile.

"Don't act innocent."

"…Look, just relax –" June insists, winding her arms around his neck. But Rick is still looking at her with visible suspicion as she tugs his head down so that she can kiss him. The steam from the shower rises between them – blurring and then distorting their reflection in the bathroom mirror. June pushes herself up onto her toes and kisses him more languidly; but she wasn't counting on Rick's pent up sexual frustration. Automatically, his arms encircle her waist and the fragile push and pull they've had going on abruptly shifts in his favour. He physically dominates her, his lips moving hungrily and feverishly against hers. June finds herself kissing him increasingly harshly to hold her own – her breathing quickly becoming ragged and short.

If Rick is confused by her refusal to yield, he doesn't show it. Maybe it's what he needs right now, because the force behind his movements is breath taking – some well of pent up emotion is being let loose that he can no longer hide.

He pushes her back up against the wall and June scrabbles quickly to gain some kind of leverage, locking her legs around his waist. Her long brown hair is now wet through and plastered to her neck and shoulders – water droplets dripping into her eyes. June's nails catch the skin on his back and Rick grunts at the pleasure-pain of the sensation, her name instinctively falling from his lips.

"June."

A wave of satisfaction courses through her. June pulls away slightly, her lips hovering inches from his own. "Say it again," she instructs, breathlessly.

A slow smirk spreads across Rick's face. Maybe he's finally figured out what's going through her head. "June?" he says, almost a question.

"Yeah," June nods, moving her lips to the pulse point at the base of his neck in an effort to elicit the word again. "Say it again."

"June –" she scrapes her teeth lightly against his skin and Rick's hips unconsciously buck into hers. "You've got no idea how much I want you right now." He groans, raggedly.

"You want me?" June asks, her head going hazy with lust. Her thighs are gripping his waist tightly and she can feel a dull ache starting to build between them that desperately needs to be relieved. There is water everywhere; pouring down their bodies.

"Yes," he hisses, as June continues to kiss every inch of skin she can reach.

"Show me."

Rick is as good as her demand. His eyes are burning with lust and desire as his hands move to grip her hips firmly. June vines herself more tightly round him as he pushes into her, a low groan of want escaping him. On June's part she feels heady – euphoric. The sensation of Rick inside of her; the feel of his desperate, hard grip on her waist is exactly what she needs right now.

June undulates her hips against his as he slowly enters her, grabbing his shoulders for leverage. "Harder," she insists – almost a gasp as she continues to grind tantalizingly against him in a bid to get him to do as she says. The ache between her legs is now so strong that she's panting; her eyes fix on his.

"June –" Rick practically snarls out the warning. It only makes her feel giddy.

"Come on. Fuck me. Really fu –" But June's words cut off in a cry as Rick thrusts hard into her, the force driving her further into and up the shower wall.

Rick's hand crams between them to roughly rub at the slick bundle of nerves between June's legs and she lets out a loud mewl as the arousal in her body builds to a point where she think she might explode with the feeling.

She moves her hips in tandem with his, and June struggles to form the right words. "You're mine," she manages to gasp out, eventually; tunnelling her fingers through Rick's wet hair possessively.

There must be something about her words that get to him, because Rick buries his face into the side of her neck – the powerful muscles in his back visibly bunching and tensing. His thrusts abruptly become erratic – less controlled – and she can tell he's getting close. "I'm yours, June," he growls into her ear. And June can't help another mewl from escaping her – or the gush of heat that races to her core. Somehow, the words sound impossibly seductive coming from Rick. "I'm all for you. Not for anybody else –"

He punctuates each word with a hard thrust, stretching out her walls and hitting just the right spot each time. "Nobody else is gonna feel this –"

And June is abruptly seeing white; unravelling, as the ache that has been building inside of her becomes too much.

For a moment, she forgets where she is…then June becomes aware of lukewarm water spraying hard into her face; the misty fug of steam and the sound of Rick panting harshly as he, too, begins to recover. Her body is still pressed close to his – the sweat on her skin now feeling clammy as her body begins to cool.

Rick lets her legs carefully drop so that she's standing, but doesn't step away. June winces at the pleasure-pain of the movement, a dull soreness already setting in.

"You know…" he drawls, bracing a forearm against the wall over her head. June cranes her neck to look up at him, and has to smile at the impossibly satisfied look on his face. He looks a lot more relaxed now than he had earlier. "Not that I'm complaining, but…you didn't have to seduce me to hear me say that. You could'a just asked."

June blushes, pressing her lips together. "I know," she admits. "I know how you feel about me…I just –" (here, she blushes even harder) " – wanted to hear you say it. It was worth it."

"Like I said: not complaining," he smirks, bending down to kiss her.

June breaths an audible sigh of relief. "I love you," she mumbles against his lips – only to make a sound of surprise a second later when Rick bites her bottom lip. "Wha- "

"You're mine, too, June," he tells her, his hot breath fanning across her face – his tone almost as dark as his eyes, which have deepened from amber, to a dull, glinting gold. "Don' forget."

The next day, June heads to A.R.G.U.S's official headquarters for the post-mission de-briefing. Which is kind of ironic, seeing as she barely knows what happened beyond what Rick had filled her in on in more detail that morning. But it's not her they need. She is going to A.R.G.U.S to provide them with the Enchantress; to erase herself once more.

June also has other plans.

She is determined not to be simply kept in the dark about Waller's agenda; especially now that she knows how precarious the Enchantress's co-operation is. What was to say that, somehow, the witch wouldn't kill someone else – like she had Melissa – in a desperate bid to get to the heart? Why had Waller needed the Converter – and why had she needed the Suicide Squad to obtain it for her, if it wasn't going to be used for some pretty questionable things?

On foot, June is waved through the first checkpoint. A.R.G.U.S headquarters are on the outskirts of the city, lying behind a thick concrete wall, covered with a light layer of dust blown in from the dessert. The facility buildings are low slung, with barely any windows – but June can tell that the place must be larger than it looks from the outside, judging by the amount of cars glinting in the parking lot. June looks at the A.R.G.U.S logo of the Vitruvian man which has been printed onto the boundary defences: somehow, in the light of day, it still manages to look demonic. Beneath are the same words as always, written in Latin – now taking on a vaguely ominous meaning.

Our search begins.

June continues to walk up the sidewalk to the main building, strands of hair from her ponytail already sticking to her sweaty forehead. Out here, there is no shade to provide relief from the hot midday sun.

Glass double doors slide open with a hiss, and a wall of air conditioning ripples June's clothes for a moment. The lobby she finds herself in is incredible. The ceiling is a pyramid of glass, revealing the bright, ocean-blue sky overhead; the floors are made of smooth stone roughly the same colour as the dessert outside. The lobby appears to be the top floor, and a network of escalators in the center burrow underground to the cooler, lower levels of the facility.

June feels vulnerable, being here without Rick. Like always, she feels like an imposter; as if she could simply be grabbed and whisked down to some laboratory against her will. But June is greeted by a pretty secretary – who is a lot less military and threatening than the front A.R.G.U.S usually put forwards. The impression June gets of the Headquarters is overwhelmingly that of a research facility, rather than an intelligence agency that uses Special Forces units to throw its weight around.

June wonders who decided to place the emphasis on search and exploration. Knowledge could not possibly come higher than espionage on Amanda Waller's list of priorities. This place does not bare her influence.

As they step onto one of the escalators, June asks the secretary, curiously: "How long has Amanda Waller been head of A.R.G.U.S for?"

The woman's deep red hair catches the bright light cast by the glass ceiling before they descend down into cool shadow. "Oh, about nine months now, I think."

Nine months. But June had known Waller for six months, and for the entirety of that time, they had never been here. June can't believe Waller's instatement had been so recent; the woman had always given an impression of permanent authority. "So she spends most of her time on the road?"

"Mostly. Ms Waller isn't the kind of person to sit behind a desk in HQ…This is mainly a meta-human research post now. She stresses liaison with local law enforcement for the intelligence side of things, so, yeah, she's mostly been going from state to state since she was promoted. We don't see her a lot here."

From the secretary's tone, June gets the impression that Waller significantly changed things from its usual setup. She also gets the sense that locating low-level meta-humans within communities is somewhat unorthodox. June had only ever heard the term A.R.G.U.S used in conjunction with big discoveries, like aliens or Superman or the Enchantress. Perhaps Waller was now shifting the organisations focus to a grassroots level…June remembers the round-ups of criminal meta-humans Rick had been doing when she first met him, and a small shiver runs up her spine that has nothing to do with the cooler air.

What was A.R.G.U.S for exactly? And what did Waller want it to be for?

The secretary steps neatly off the elevator and leads June down a corridor lit with bright, artificial white light. There are thick doors with security codes, and June would not have guessed they were laboratories, had painted lettering saying LAB 3 or LAB 4A not been stenciled neatly next to each door. It would be impossible to determine what was going on in each room – had June not caught a snatch of conversation as two scientists pass them in billowing, white lab coats.

"…the electromagnetic waves are off the chart…" the woman is saying to her male colleague – who, June realises, happens to be the same man she had overheard on the airport runway the day before. "…I mean, I overheard Jeff say that that Waller lady wants to use it for recon…but why on earth she'd do that when this thing can power a city…"

"- we're not supposed to have this kind of technology, remember?" the man mutters back, stressing his words significantly. "I mean, that heart they have down in Lab 2 isn't even–"

But before June can hear the rest, the two scientists veer left up ahead – swiping their security passes and entering through a door that reads LAB 1.

Instinctively, June guesses that the pair are talking about the Converter, and whatever Waller wants with it. She twists her head hopefully as they pass the door – hoping to encounter a window that she might be able to see through; but she's faced only with a blank, grey door and a black rectangle of plastic through which cards could be swiped.

"This way – " The secretary says, when June slows to get a better look at the laboratory. She has no choice but to follow her.

They walk right to the end of the corridor – which seems a bizarre amount of walking to do to get to someone's office as important as Waller's. But when June opens her mouth to ask why, she reads the plaque on the door properly.

AMANDA WALLER

Meta-Human Crime Department

"She didn't change her office when she got promoted," the secretary explains, catching June's expression. "I guess there's no point, really, when she's away so much…Everyone thought it was an odd choice when someone in major crimes was appointed Head of A.R.G.U.S, but I guess when things get rough, people want someone who'll take a hard line, and after Superman died…" the Secretary shrugs unnecessarily, tailing off, also staring at the plaque. Perhaps Waller wasn't an enigma to just June, then.

"They'll be with you shortly," the secretary informs June, as she admits her into a large, airy office. June cannot detect that Waller has made any changes to the space since becoming head of the Agency. There is still a map tacked to the wall, with different states shaded different colours. There are also complex looking graphs and charts, as if Waller is attempting to figure out some kind of trend in the population.

To June's surprise, the secretary is far more genuinely trusting than the A.R.G.U.S employees she is used to. Instead of being watched or handcuffed, the girl offers her a cup of coffee and then excuses herself politely from the room. June blinks as the door shuts behind her, unused to being treated like a human being for once.

June hovers for a second, before heading over to the computer on the desk. She knows, realistically, that Waller will have the place bugged – that it would be rash beyond belief to try anything. The computer predictably is password protected, and so June begins to rifle through draws impatiently – but there's nothing in them.

And why would there be? If what June had heard was true, it wasn't as if Waller was around much to file paperwork. All of her information on the Enchantress – on the Converter - would be elsewhere.

Stepping back from the desk with a sigh of frustration, June is about to text Rick when a file on the desk catches her eye. It's clearly been left there recently for Waller to look at, and June wouldn't pay attention to what otherwise looks like a lot of medical charts stapled together, had there not been a picture of the witch's heart attached.

June remembers the Chinese man's words. The heart was being kept in Lab 2 – wherever that was. But it was in the building.

She flips open the file and looks at the notes – glancing at the oldest update scrawled across the bottom. It's dated a week after they discovered the heart in Mexico – when June was still mourning for Melissa and – for a brief, blissful period of time – had been utterly left alone by A.R.G.U.S. As she registers what the notation is telling her, her whole body freezes and June's own heart constricts painfully in her chest. She has to re-read the scribbled note several times to believe it, blinking back the angry tears which are suddenly stinging her eyes. June chokes back a sob.

We are now confident that, whilst damaging the heart causes physical harm to the Enchantress, the heart itself has no visible effect or power over Doctor Moone herself. We therefore agree that complete destruction of the heart would result in the destruction of the witch, but not of Doctor Moone.

June is struggling to breathe.

She thought she was stuck with this. She had told her parents she would have to live with it for the rest of her life. She had convinced Rick to join the Suicide Squad. Had allowed herself to be manipulated – made into the weapon…all because she believed she had had no other choice. That this was the best possible use for the witch inside her body. Rick had stayed with her, despite them both believing that her body would never truly be hers again.

And it was all lies.

June's heart is thudding painfully in her chest. It's hard to think. She knows implicitly that this information would never have been passed onto her by Waller. She would have never been told…never known…

June drops the file back onto the desk and looks up, blindly.

She needed that heart. And she needed to destroy it.

June's not sure if either or both thoughts are her own or the Enchantress's. Her vision feels blurry, but that could be because she's so upset. She's emotional - on the edge of control - but at the same time, an iron band of determination is settling in her gut. The heart was barely meters away – in the laboratory. She just had to get in there, and somehow coerce Waller into opening the briefcase for her. Waller and Waller alone would be able to open it. She needed to find her.

And once she had, June would crush the thing, and end all of this. She was going to finish what the Enchantress had started; wipe magic off the face of the earth once and for all.

Her heart is fluttering in her chest. Neon colours streak her vision.

A/N Sorry for the wait you guys (and I hope this chapter makes up for it!) Next chapter will get into the main events of Suicide Squad, and I'm super excited to add my own take on the Enchantress's attack on Midway City. It's going to be a lot smaller, and a lot more personal. If any of you were worried about reading through a re-hash of events, rest assured that both the Squad's and June's roles will be different (but still essentially stick to the plot of the film).

I enjoyed delving a little bit into the Waller's mysterious past. I feel at this point we know more about the Enchantress than we do her.

Thank you for continuing to support this story. I appreciate every single one of your reviews!

Last Of The Lilac Wine