Chapter Text
Dr. Johnson insists on another thorough examination before making any decisions about letting Rachel out of bed. It's more annoying than anything else and it makes her want to scream into her pillow and roll her eyes, but in the end, Rachel begrudgingly agrees. Dick tries to spare her from it, pointing out her recent strength gains and the results of physical therapy that were deemed more than satisfactory by the doctor herself, but Rachel lays a hand on his arm and shakes her head, saying she can handle it. It is not ideal, and she would rather not do it, but it serves as another reminder that everything here is done to help her.
After all, doctor's visits aren't as scary as they used to be anymore.
All the tests come out good. Her hips healed up nicely, she has enough strength to be able to support herself, and the external wounds left by the drill and needles closed up, only leaving behind tender patches of pink, healed skin. Dr. Johnson is pleased enough with the results to give Rachel the green light, and Dick's shoulders sag with relief so hard that he nearly collapses. Rachel feels Kory's arm slip around her back, the two smiling at each other softly, and even Gar, so much dimmer and quieter these days, grins at her with gleaming pride and raises a hand for a high five before hugging her from the other side.
They all seem to have the same thought, Rachel notices. It's written all over their faces — there's finally some light at the end of this fucking tunnel.
Still, the night before, she wakes up drenched in sweat.
She was back in the cell. Straps held her arms and legs to the table; she was too weak to move. She heard footsteps approaching, and Lex Luthor's shadow fell over her, obscuring the harsh light above her head. The sound of a drill made her flinch as it always did, but she soon realized it sounded different — harsher, louder, more sinister.
Lex grabbed the sheet covering her and threw it aside, revealing her bare legs peeking out from beneath the filthy hospital gown.
“You won't be using these anyway,” he said.
The glint of metal was the only thing she noticed before the chainsaw sunk its sharp teeth into her thigh.
“No!!! Get away from me!!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!!” Rachel shrieks as she jolts awake, razors ripping her throat apart. She’s like an animal running amok, eyes wide open as she loses herself in her screams, her lungs contracting with every intake of breath and refusing to accept it.
Her mind tells her she's awake but she doesn't recognize where she is. All she knows is that she is still trapped. Her hands are free but she can't see or feel her legs. Something heavy lies on top of her, pinning her down. Rachel grabs at her restraints, pulling, pushing, attempting to rip them away, but they only tangle around her hands, trapping her even more tightly.
Get off, get off, get off!!! She begs but all that comes out of her mouth are sobs. She hears a tear of fabric, feels it give away under her hands but doesn't stop fighting. Light floods her vision, golden and warm, yet she flinches away from it violently, and when a hand lands on her shoulder, so gentle, so familiar, she lashes out, ready to kill.
“No! No! GET AWAY!”
“Rachel, it's me! Rachel!”
She would have attacked, her magic boiling right underneath her skin, ready to strike, but then her eyes lock on his — chocolate brown gleaming golden in the light of her bedside lamp, filled to the brim with the kind of concern that knocks the air out of her lungs.
And just like that, everything goes quiet.
“Dick?”
Dick raises his hands where she can see them and leans away slightly, giving her space.
“It's okay, Rach. You're okay. It's me.”
She takes a breath but it comes out shallow, her lungs still held in clutches of her fear. When she thinks about that, she feels herself slipping away, her heart resuming its wild gallop as if the nightmare was about to grasp her again, so she forces herself to focus on her anchor — on his hair ruffled from sleep and sticking out in different directions, on the plain gray t-shirt that sits a little askew on his shoulders, probably from the violent way he was yanked from his sleep by her screams. She focuses on the eyes that look at her with so much love and on the hands that would never hurt her—
And then she looks down at her hands, which are twisted in white hospital sheets that are nearly ripped to shreds, clutching the destroyed fabric in her fists. Shaking, Rachel pulls the sheets away and gasps when she uncovers her legs. Still attached to her body. No blood. No pain.
Carefully, she moves her right leg. Then left. Bends one knee, then the other. She wiggles her toes and watches them move under the blanket still draped over her feet. Relief floods her when she realizes she can feel every movement and nothing is painful.
“It was just a dream,” she breathes out, and her shoulders relax.
Dick releases a deep sigh of relief as well and runs a hand through his hair.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
Rachel looks at him and only now notices he's sitting at the edge of her bed, his own left in disarray next to her. For a second, she's expecting Kory to appear by his side, but then she remembers she's staying at the RV tonight with the boys. It's just the two of them here.
Swallowing a lump still stuck in her throat, she manages a quick nod.
“Yeah.”
He must see something in her eyes, though, because the crease between his brows only grows and he ducks his head to catch her gaze when she tries to look away.
“You sure?”
She wants to say she is. Wants to tell him not to worry and send him back to bed. He's lost enough sleep because of her in the last few months. But she doesn't have the strength to lie to him.
Words fail her, but the look she gives him, scared and vulnerable and clouded by a thin veil of sudden tears, is enough for him to understand — and then he moves, climbing into bed with her and wrapping her in his arms, a large hand curling around the back of her head and guiding her right into the crook of his neck. Rachel slumps against him, sighing deeply, before finally allowing her silent tears to fall.
For a while, Dick doesn't say anything, only holds her. If he knows she's crying, he doesn't mention it; he just keeps running his fingers through her hair, the other arm curled protectively around her middle. His back hits the pillows behind him and he simply waits, knowing she will speak when she's ready.
Part of her wants to just fall asleep like that and let this nightmare be forgotten. That's what she's been doing this whole time: acting like nothing happened, dodging the rare questions and using the fact that no one wants to push her to keep her nightmares hidden forever. But after she and Dick opened up to each other about their struggles a few nights ago, after he saw the raw footage of what really happened to her, another part of her wants to pour it all out and let him share some of that weight, simply because it's easier that way.
He knows now. He understands.
“I was back there again,” she whispers into his neck eventually, her voice hoarse from earlier screams.
Dick doesn't speak; he only kisses the top of her head and squeezes her a little tighter — a silent encouragement to continue.
Rachel takes a shaky breath. “Lex was there too. He… he wanted to cut my legs off.”
It sounds even more morbid than it looked in her head. She shuts her eyes to try to block out the images, but the sound of the chainsaw still pierces her ears, and the metallic smell of her own blood clogs her nose. Dick's body tenses beneath her for a moment before relaxing again, and she feels his cheek rest against her hair.
“You’re nervous for tomorrow, aren't you?”
Yet another labored breath leaves her throat.
She shouldn't be nervous. She's been doing so well lately; she knows she's strong enough to stand and maybe even walk on her own. Kory has been helping her get in and out of a wheelchair for a while now, mostly for bathroom trips, but a couple of days ago, after the whole footage thing, Tim had an idea to take her out on a stroll around S.T.A.R. Labs and Rachel nearly jumped out of bed at the suggestion. That's what prompted her later to ask Dick to talk to Dr. Johnson; being out of this goddamn room for once felt exhilarating and she wanted nothing more than to do it on her own.
The first try will not be smooth sailing; that's to be expected. But logically, there is nothing to be afraid of. And most of all, she is sick of being in bed. It seriously feels at times like she put down roots in it, like it's a part of her now. Overgrown vines sprouting from her useless limbs and curling over the bed frame, pulling her deeper into the mattress like they're trying to bury her there. And she hates it. She wants to move; she wants to go home, and the only way to do that is to stand on her own two feet and walk out of that building by herself.
“What if I can't do it?” She voices her doubts aloud, her eyes open again and staring at the door across the room mindlessly. “What if I can never walk again?”
They all feared it at first. No one wanted to say it in her face, but Rachel had noticed the scared looks everyone had been giving her and the way Dr. Johnson would always ask Dick and Kory to come to her office to discuss details. It was not until she pressed for answers, arguing that she was in a good enough mental state to handle them, that she was told that the spinal taps caused some serious nerve damage around her spine and that too much spinal fluid was taken, which was the cause of her excruciating back pain and headaches. All of this, combined with the drill nearly destroying her pelvis, posed a significant risk. Of course, physical therapy, among other things, put that risk to rest, but the fear lingered in her mind, and now when she looks across the room and imagines herself taking a step towards the door, she sees herself crumbling, her legs shaking and unsteady like a newborn foal, only to fold under her and send her to the ground.
Two gentle fingers lift her chin up and when she meets Dick's warm brown eyes, her own well up with tears.
“You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Rach,” he tells her. The hand that held her chin now comes to cup her cheek and she can't help but nuzzle her face into his palm, relishing in its comforting warmth. “You will walk again.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you ,” he says, smiling. “And you never give up without a fight.”
But what if she's incapable of fighting? What if her body won't listen to her anymore? What if the strength she's been feeling coming back is only temporary? What if it's not enough to keep her upright?
She doesn't notice her tears until Dick catches one with his thumb and wipes it away. His gaze reflects his breaking heart; she can almost hear the cracks forming and she hates herself for doing this to him, for crying again, for feeling so fucking weak. But the damage is done; the dam is broken and there's nothing she can do but let the tears start falling.
“I’m scared of the pain,” she confesses with a trembling voice. “I’m scared of falling.”
“I’ll catch you,” Dick tells her and there's nothing that could make her believe he isn't telling the truth. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”
He pulls her back in, wraps her in his arms, and as her body relaxes against him again, Rachel allows herself a small smile, her worries alleviated for the time being. As his gentle fingers tuck her hair behind her ear, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. It could all very well be the doing of a miracle worker, the way it brings her peace, but will it be enough to keep her standing tomorrow?
Will it stop the chainsaw still whirring inside her head?
The nightmare keeps replaying in her head the following morning as she's sitting in her bed, playing with a paper band around her wrist while Dr. Johnson is giving instructions. Rachel isn't listening; she doesn't really need to. She knows the drill: be careful how you move. Stop if you feel pain. Continue if you don't. Simple enough.
“...remember not to overwork yourself too much; you can always try again later if you don't feel strong enough.” The woman's voice filters in through the mist of thoughts clouding her brain.
“Got it,” Rachel nods without much enthusiasm.
She should feel more excited. After all, she was the one who asked for this. But now that everyone's here and the moment has finally come, all she wants to do is curl up under the covers and be left alone.
The mattress dips at her side and when Rachel lifts her eyes, she sees Kory smiling at her softly and reaching for her hand.
“If you're not feeling up for this...” she starts, squeezing her fingers, but Rachel shakes her head and manages a smile.
“No. No, I want to do this. I'm just nervous, that's all.”
Dr. Johnson clears her throat. “Maybe it’d be better if you didn't have such a big audience?”
Rachel's eyes flicker to Gar, Tim and Conner, who are all sitting side by side on the couch under the window, all three looking up at the suggestion. Tim seems ready to bolt and only Conner's firm hand on his shoulder keeps him in place. Gar opens his mouth, likely to protest, but she beats him to it.
“No. I want them to stay.”
She smiles at the boys and they all smile back. Tim even shows her a thumbs up.
“You got this, Rach,” Gar tells her. Their eyes meet and Rachel takes a deep breath, her nerves settling a little after seeing the encouragement in her best friend’s eyes.
Dick pats Gar on the back before stepping closer to her bed. He rests a hand on her shoulder. “Ready?”
Rachel looks around the room. Sees the pride and hope Dick and Kory look at her with, and the way the boys are clearly excited but just as nervous as she is. The calm and stoic demeanor of Dr. Johnson, who's standing to the side in her white doctor's coat, waiting.
All these people helped her get to this point. They saved her, surrounded her with care and love, and made sure she came out of this tragedy victorious. The next step in this journey is a scary one; it might not work out the way she wants it to, but she owes these people to try.
Most of all, though, she owes it to herself. She didn't survive all of this shit just to give up now.
“I’m ready.”
Dick offers her a hand but she rejects it and throws the covers away, uncovering her legs clad in comfortable navy blue sweatpants. Kory moves out of the way to give her space and stands at the end of the bed, her fingers curled over the bed frame, watching Rachel push herself over the edge. Throwing her legs over it is easy and when her bare feet touch the cold tiles on the floor, she giggles like a little kid. She has never liked walking barefoot and has always complained about her feet getting cold, but the sensation now brings her comfort.
There are warm slippers prepared for her but she ignores them and places her feet firmly on the floor. With her hands curled over the edge of the mattress on both of her sides, she braces herself. Dick stands right in front of her and when she looks up, he reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“I'm right here,” he assures her.
“I know.”
Rachel pushes herself off the bed with a single long, deep exhale. Her body immediately protests, stiff joints refusing to cooperate, but she grinds her teeth and pushes through, scowling through the discomfort. She stands upright for about a second before tipping forward, but Dick is there to catch her, his arms wrapping around her and holding her up by her shoulders and around her back.
“Easy,” he whispers, getting her steady. His worried eyes scan her face. “You good?”
“Yeah,” she nods, but grips onto his biceps nonetheless. “Just lost my balance for a moment.”
“Take it slow, okay? Baby steps. Don't push yourself.”
Once they're both sure she's good standing on her own, Dick takes a step back and lets her go, but Rachel slips her hands into his instead.
“Baby steps, right?” She says, smiling at his surprised, slightly curious look. Dick nods, pride and warmth flooding his gaze, and he makes his hold on her firmer.
With another deep breath, Rachel looks down at her feet. She wiggles her toes against the floor and tries to sway a little on her heels. Then, as carefully as she can, she lifts one foot up and takes one slow step forward.
Her legs are like jello, wobbly, and unsteady. It's more of a shuffle than a step; she all but drags her foot across the floor, but it's a step still. Dick looks down as well, his face splitting in an instant smile.
“There you go,” he breathes out and she can almost hear the flutter of his heart in his trembling voice.
He moves along with her, stepping back as she steps forward like it's some kind of awkward waltz, but his hands never lose their grip on hers and he's watchful of every little change. On the third step, she gets a little more confident, taking a bigger stride, but when a sharp pain strikes her right hip, Rachel grunts, freezing in place, and he's immediately there, arms around her back, letting her lean on him to take a breath. She waits, breathing through it until it's gone, then nods, and when he pulls away, she takes her next step more carefully.
She didn't expect to run on the first try, and yet frustration at her own immobility creeps up on her anyway. She trips and stumbles more by the time she's halfway through the room, a thin veil of sweat covering her forehead, and she wants to scream but then she looks up at Dick and sees his smile, those big brown eyes shining with pride, and all of it goes away.
“That's my girl,” he keeps praising her, his soft voice soothing her racing heart. “Keep going, Rach. You're doing great.”
The room around them fades away. It's just the two of them now and the two feet of space between them that keep filling up with hope with every step she takes. They become more steady as she goes, the discomfort of her body going away the more she moves, and the euphoria that floods her is so loud, so blinding, that Rachel doesn't take notice of how exhausted she's getting until her legs fold under her just a few steps away from the door and she falls into Dick's arms like a ragdoll cut from strings.
“Whoa, hey. Hey, I got you,” he whispers as he pulls her to his chest, a slight hint of panic in his voice while he checks her over. “Are you okay? Do you need a break?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head but takes a second to take a breath anyway. Her muscles burn, and her hips hurt more and more. Everyone told her not to push herself. But she has to do this. “I want to… I want to reach the door. On my own,” she says and straightens up, new determination burning in her eyes. Dick's eyes widen, alarmed, and he checks the distance between where they're standing and her goal before turning back to her.
“Rach, are you sure? You look tired; is it safe to—”
“I have to try, Dick,” she pleads. Dick's lips curl into a worried frown and he looks around, checking in with Kory and Dr. Johnson, but they both give their nods. Then slowly, very slowly, he steps back from her and takes his hands away, letting them hover for a few more seconds until he's sure she's standing steady.
It takes a lot of effort to even stand still on her own and keep her balance but she's not going to give up now. Rachel squares her shoulders and measures the distance. Five, maybe six, steps. She can do this.
The first one is really wobbly but she steadies herself quickly, arms spread wide like she's walking on a wire. A fleeting thought flies through her mind that this is how Dick's mother must have felt all those years ago when she was training for her circus acts. Balancing on a rope, forcing her body to stay upright and defy gravity. Rachel does the same now — breathes in, breathes out, and pushes forward until her hands touch the wall and her drenched forehead rests against the cool surface of the door.
A wide smile breaks out on her exhausted face. She did it. She reached the door.
Next time, she will walk through it.
Exhaustion catches up to her and she feels herself going down, but before she can hit the floor, there's a whoosh of air and large, and warm hands — not Dick's but someone else's — catch her just in time, holding her up.
“I got you,” Conner says with a sheepish smile, helping her stand up and letting her rest her weight against him. Rachel laughs softly and briefly leans her head on his shoulder in a show of gratitude.
“Thanks, Conner,” she gasps, tired but happy.
He hands her over to Dick, who wraps her in a hug so tight she can barely breathe.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, kissing her temple. “But maybe it's enough for the day, huh? We can try again tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Rachel chuckles and leans against him. “Sounds like a plan.”
He picks her up like she weighs nothing and carries her back to bed, where Gar, Tim, and Kory are already waiting for their turn to hug her. Rachel is sore and feels like she just ran a marathon instead of crossing the room, but it's all worth it when she sees her family happier and more hopeful than before she was kidnapped. Dr. Johnson comments on her progress and asks a few questions regarding her pain, then helps her release it with a few simple exercises before leaving.
Once they're left alone, Tim plops down by Rachel's side and throws an arm over her shoulder.
“I don't know about you, but I think this calls for a celebratory meal,” he says.
Rachel smirks at him. “What are we talking? Burgers or Chinese?”
“You know, I’d eat something Italian.” Kory says with a dreamy voice. Rachel can't help but agree eagerly.
Dick fishes out his car keys from his pocket. “Italian it is! Who's coming with me?”
“I am!” Gar yells and grabs his jacket before sprinting out the door with Conner right behind him. Tim gets up as well and lets Kory take his place, then fist bumps Rachel before leaving.
Dick comes over to press another kiss on her forehead.
“So proud of you,” he says again and she can't help but beam at him. “Try not to fall asleep before we come back.”
“I’ll do my best.”
It doesn't escape her how he touches Kory's arm before heading out. Nor the way Kory’s eyes linger on him until he disappears in the hallway. But Rachel doesn't ask; she just leans into Kory's embrace with a smile, and even though her body is aching, she welcomes the pain with open arms because it means she is finally getting her life back.
And she'll be eating some Italian for dinner.
After a week, she is strong enough to reach the door by herself. A few more days later, she can make the walk back as well with little to no effort. The wheelchair is taken out of her room, and the first time she can freely stand by herself under the shower, she spends there nearly half an hour.
Longer walks are still a little more of a struggle, though, so she doesn't venture out too far alone. Usually someone accompanies her; she enjoys Gar's company the most during these walks, the two of them laughing and joking around as they cross the S.T.A.R. Labs hallways, her arm hooked over his elbow. Maybe it's because he gives her more freedom and more room to make and fix her mistakes. She can stumble with him or ask for a break if she's too winded and he won't start panicking like Dick or Kory often do but will let her have a moment and then they continue on like nothing happened. Rachel is grateful for that. She loves Dick and Kory to the moon and back, and she's indebted to them for life for the way they took care of her and nursed her back to health, but in all their concern, they can be overbearing at times. She understands their reasons, but sometimes she just needs some room to breathe.
Spending time with Gar also gives her an opportunity to make sure he's okay.
“Kory mentioned you were... going through something lately,” she starts carefully when they walk out onto the big balcony and Gar hands her a cup of coffee. Wind hits her face and for a moment she lets herself enjoy the feeling of fresh air and warm sun on her skin.
His shoulders tense as he leans against the railing, his eyes stubbornly fixed on the buildings surrounding them while he sips his drink.
Part of her wants to back out, tell him to forget she said anything, but if something is wrong with her best friend, she feels obligated to help him just like he’s been helping her. So instead of changing the subject, Rachel lays a hand on his shoulder and continues to speak softly. “She didn't tell me any details. But I noticed that something was wrong.”
This makes him look at her and the vulnerability in his eyes makes her equally relieved and worried.
“You did?”
“Yeah,” Rachel nods. “Ever since my rescue, you’ve been... distant. I could tell you were trying not to be but it was like it was stronger than you.”
A smile twitches one corner of Gar's lips, but it never quite reaches his eyes. When he reaches for her hand on his shoulder and pats it gently, he seems almost sad.
“It’s alright, Rach. It was just hard to watch you in pain.” He places his coffee on a small table standing on his other side, then turns to face her fully. “But you're better now. And we’ll be going home soon. There's nothing you should be worried about other than how you're gonna climb those 32 stories on those little lamb legs if Conner breaks the elevator again.”
She snorts out a laugh and punches him lightly in the arm.
“Very funny. Wait, what do you mean again?”
“There's been an incident once. Don't ask. He made us swear not to speak about it ever again.”
“Duly noted,” Rachel nods, before both of them break into a fit of giggles.
She leans her head against Gar’s shoulder. "Guess, in that case, I’m gonna have to be carried upstairs.”
“I’m sure Dick will be thrilled,” he chuckles.
“Yeah, definitely.” With a sigh, she tucks some hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear. “I’m never escaping the baby treatment, am I?”
“Nope.”
“You can have it if you want, though; I don’t mind sharing—”
“No, thank you. I don’t need Dick breathing down my neck when I catch a cold.”
Rachel frowns. “You never catch a cold. Like, ever.”
“But the day I do, he better not tuck me into bed.”
After that, it's quiet for a while. They continue to lean against one another as their laughter fades away and sip their coffee while they watch cars drive by down on the street. But something still sits heavy on Rachel’s chest.
Slowly, Rachel lifts her head from Gar's shoulder and takes a deep breath.
“But for real... if something is wrong… you’d tell me, right?”
Gar drops his gaze to his hands. “Rachel—”
“And don't give me this ‘you were recovering and I didn't want to burden you’ shit. Because you always do this. I don't want to push you, and I understand if you don't want to talk about this. But I also don't want you to suffer alone and—” she lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don't know, I’m just worried. If there's anything I can do—”
“There's nothing you can do.”
He refuses to even look at her as he says it, and Rachel makes peace with the fact that the topic is officially closed. He won't tell her anything.
But then Gar closes his eyes and inhales deeply, and her powers pick up waves of fear and anxiety rolling off of him.
“I… uh…” he licks his lips and swallows hard as if his throat just went dry. “What you went through brought back some stuff from my time with Chief. Some bad stuff. And, long story short, it was difficult for me to see how much support you got while I went through a similar thing alone. It's not like I was jealous or anything; traumas aren't comparable, but some internalized thoughts got the best of me and I–”
Before he gets to finish, Rachel surges forward and wraps her arms around his neck. Gar's mouth clamps up and for a second he freezes, but then his arms come around her back and he pulls her closer.
“I’m sorry I wasn't there for you,” she whispers into his ear.
Gar's next breath is shaky and she feels him squeeze her tighter.
“I’m sorry I wasn't there for you either,” he says. “Not enough, anyway.”
“Don't even say that. You’ve helped me plenty.” She pulls away from him and smiles. “Should I remind you that you were the reason you guys finally discovered that Lex had me?”
“But later, when you were back—”
“No. You were struggling and needed space. I get that.” Her smile drops then. “But I do wish you came to me with it. I would hear you out.”
Gar gives an apologetic smile. “I kinda talked to Dick and Kory about it. Or, more like, took it out on them. But don't worry; it got better after that. I guess I just needed to get some shit off my chest. It's fine now.”
Something tells her that not everything is as fine as he claims but she decides not to push anymore. She slides her hands off his shoulders and down his arms until she can grab his hands.
“But remember, I’m here to listen if you got more to get off your chest, okay? I can bitch about Dick and Kory too.”
That causes him to chuckle and splits his face into a grin. He throws his arm around her shoulders and begins steering her back into the building.
“Girl, I’ve got six weeks worth of tea that you haven't heard yet.”
Kory supervises her while she's working on her powers and honestly, bless her for that because it turns out to be a bigger struggle than Rachel initially anticipated. Maybe it's because she's been cut off of it for six weeks and then still wasn't using it during her recovery, but she's having a hard time tapping into it at times, like she's losing her way in a maze. Kory guides her through it, using Tamaranean teachings that used to help her with her own powers, and after some time and patience, doing her magic is once again as easy as breathing.
It still makes her dizzy on occasion, but it doesn’t bother her too much.
The general mood is starting to lift and it brings much-needed relief. Dark circles disappear from under Dick's eyes. Kory's smile becomes increasingly blinding with each instance; it makes Rachel feel as though she is staring directly into the sun. The boys try to spend every free second of their day with her and the only thing that leaves her in pain is the way they end up laughing so hard their stomachs hurt and tears roll down from the corners of their eyes.
All medical results come back outstanding. Dr. Johnson smiles when she delivers the good news.
It's time to go home.
Dick is attempting to hold back his tears, but Rachel can tell by the way he is grasping her hand that he’d cry like a baby if he could. Kory doesn't hide her tears of relief, though, wearing them proudly instead as she hugs the doctor, thanking her for everything. Rachel does so as well, with a genuine smile on her face as she shakes the woman's hand and feels not a single drop of fear in her body.
Doctors don't scare her anymore, but God, she can't wait to get the hell out of this room.
Soon she's ditching the sweats for an all-black outfit and putting makeup on. The RV’s engine roars to life and they hit the road, Dick and Kory behind the wheel while the rest are hanging out in the back. Rachel leans against Gar's side while snickering at Tim, who clearly can't hide his too-obvious crush on Bernard. The city of Metropolis and the nightmares she went through here are being left behind in the rearview mirror.
Or so she thought.