The witch needed her things back if she was to be successful and though she was powerful, without her heart, she was vulnerable. So, it seemed Waller’s dog was the best choice since she had his precious June. Appearing in the mirror, she watched his naked form dry and dress himself, her expression conveying nothing until he started to wipe away the steam from the mirror, her face twisting into a dark smile as they made eye contact, startling him. Her hands reached at, clamping to the sides of his face. “Honey, I’m home.”
When dark hands and arms came slithering through the mirror Richard was beside himself. The sinister smirk was nothing he could trust and yet her touch was like June’s. Even at the risk, Flag found himself giving into the metahumans control out of fear that this would be the last time he would feel Moone again. After losing her to a bullet at the gala and now Enchantress due to her desperation to survive the blow, there was so much emotion Rick had yet to face, so much shame. Foolishness came with a price. Rick knew this better than anyone. He was punished; the soft grip turned into a vice along his jaw and Flag’s head made harsh contact with the cheap motel mirror. Eyes shut tight, a hoarse, concealed, shout escaped the soldiers chest and as he crumbled to the floor in front of the sink many shards clattered down with him. He’d taken similar blows before–worse ones–so his right arm was quick to retrieve the Glock 17 at the corner of the sink while his eyes adjusted in search of Enchantress. There was a heavy pulse thrumming in Rick’s chest and above the right brow where he’d been struck. He didn’t notice a harmless drop of blood sliding over his temple. “What are you doing here…?” The Colonel asked between breaths, before demanding, “Why are you here?!”