Chapter Text
There were facets to Rose Wilson that few people ever saw, hidden parts that she kept tucked away, safe from prying eyes. Most who encountered her saw only an angry, aggressive young woman who believed human life was of little to no value. She was Deathstroke's daughter, after all, the only remaining heir to a killer in both name and action. Her brash nature and stand-offish interpersonal skills certainly did little to detract from that overwhelming opinion as to her nature, either. Rose had worked long and hard developing her reputation, until some days she wasn't sure if it was an act, or if she was the act.
Once upon a time, long ago and far away, she had been naive; a young girl, searching for love and a family. It seemed like another lifetime, almost as if she hadn't been the one living it. How fast tragedy and betrayal steam rolled over the younger Rose. It was amazing that she had come out with her sanity intact, and occasionally she questioned whether or not she actually had. Her life was formed by frozen moments in time. Horrific snapshots of what one person could live through and still come out of swinging. Whenever she closed her eye, let her mind sink into the supposed oblivion of sleep, these defining moments flashed across her mindscape. Numbing her. Reminding her.
Her mother's death.
Her kidnapping and torture by a man called Ravager, her uncle.
The death of her adopted family.
The death of Lian Harper, a precious child she'd been entrusted with the safety of.
The distrust and doubts of the Titans.
Slade's hot and cold manipulations.
Taking her own eye with her father's serum pumping through her veins.
The death of Joey on the end of their father's blade.
At the end of it all, the one she would never, ever talk about. Even in her most introspective moments, her mind stuttered across that one, heart-wrenching loss. A moment she hadn't even been there for. Instead, she mentally bounced back over her time with the Titans, not ready to examine that last death yet. In those rare moments she was honest with herself, Rose acknowledged that she might never be ready to accept how she had failed the one truly good person who had ever relied on her.
By the time she started working with the Titans, she had already gone cold. There was a certain dismissal of the entire concept of love in general that permeated her. Slade had used emotions as a tool to force her into trying to accomplish his bidding, love was something he withheld when displeased. She had decided that no one was ever going to be able to hold that over her again. Still, surrounded by other young people, many of them attractive young men, she'd seen no problems in finding herself a diversion or two.... at first. The choices were endless; Batman's uncomfortable young protégé, the half-Kryptonian clone, Eddie, Jaime, Bart... Despite the numerous rumours, mostly instigated by herself to upset the prissy princess Cassie, she'd not actually slept with any of them.
She would have, but the lot of them were so good, so innocent. In short, nothing like her. Rose had already been a killer by then, and nothing in the world would wipe the stain of her sins from her soul. She wasn't like them, perhaps she never had been. There was something dark and foul festering within her, something of Slade that tarnished everything she touched. The things she'd done, they'd left a film of filth on her very being, and she wouldn't taint them with it, not for an idle flirtation, and she could never offer them anything more. It wouldn't be right. People like her shouldn't reach for things that they didn't deserve.
Hell, she'd only flirted with poor Jaime at all because of Eddie. He was special, even before the changes. Amidst all these shining stars, he shone the brightest, at least in her eye. After he'd changed, though, that was when they really got close. The way certain people looked at him changed, and she finally felt like someone truly understood her. His outside had changed, but inside he was still the same, wholesome Eddie Bloomberg she'd known for so long. She never looked at him any different after the change, though he was a damn convenient lighter. There'd been a new tension developing in their relationship, a closeness that made Rose nervous. So she'd done what she always did, she pulled away, tried to distance herself, tried making him jealous. Nothing she attempted could make Eddie believe the horrible things that the others said about her, even though she knew they were. His faith in her had been unshakable. That was when she'd known she'd have to leave. It was too hard, being among these other young people, but not being part of them.
In a moment of weakness, she'd asked him to come with her. Of course he'd said no. It was the sensible thing to do. Saying yes would have been foolish, and he was never an idiot. Still, it had hurt far more than she thought possible. She'd been petty, lashing out the only way she could... she had left without saying goodbye. Rose had done her best to run away from all the emotions and confusion, had even succeeded for a time, until she'd felt it. The world stopped, and all the colour bled away. Whatever she had had left of her heart had been put away after that. She buried it with Eddie's body.
She'd heard of his death like a footnote on events. How could nobody else see how much bleaker the world had become? They all went about as if their lives weren't irrevocably changed. She had never hated herself so deeply in her entire life. If she hadn't left, if she had been there... She could have convinced him not to sacrifice his dumb red butt. She could have had his back, like the prissy little prep squad he called a team never could quite manage. Their place was side by side, two ugly ducklings in a big, scary pond. She'd lost that in the rush of teenage hormones. Now, now she had to live in a world without Eddie Bloomberg in it. She'd thrown herself into increasingly dangerous missions, burying herself in work, becoming more and more like the father she loathed. She was colder now than she'd ever been, her edges sharper. All this simply to hide the fact that inside she was a fragile, shattered creature.