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grey-sides · 2 years

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don’t feel like you have to, but i would love to read your take on obsessive/overprotecting steve?

Hi, anon! Sorry for the delay I have been distracted lately by *gestures at the world.* I appreciate your patience and hope this satisfies the itch of what you were looking for!

Billy is responsible for Munson and Henderson. While they distract the fucking bat things, Billy has to keep watch with a goddamn flame thrower of all things. Because even just a couple months out of the hospital and just now getting back to lifting anywhere near what he used to, he’s still more muscle than Henderson or Munson.

And Steve is a hero. Has to be the hero, so Billy gets to stay behind. With Eddie and Dustin who are animated and excited about what is absolutely going to be an unmitigated disaster. But Billy’s beaten death once, flipped it off and walked backwards into life. So he’s feeling confident.

“Don’t try to be a hero, okay? Or do anything stupid,” Steve says, looking between all three of them seriously. Like his big brown eyes could be anything other than adorable.

“We’re not heroes,” Eddie laughs, gesturing to him and Dustin. Sometimes he acts like he can’t even see Billy, like if he acknowledges him too much, Billy might try and bite his head off.

Steve rolls his eyes, turns to Billy, grabs for his wrist. The others don’t know. Except Buckley. They all just think that Billy’s here because he’s made up with Steve and he needs to help protect his little sister who hasn’t gotten over her guilt of his death. She won’t take credit for his resurrection by the hands of some very skilled paramedics and surgeons.

“Don’t try to be a hero,” he repeats, squeezing Billy’s wrist while he searches his eyes.

Billy gives him a half smile, meets him dead on. “You heard Munson, our heroing days are over.” He winks and licks over his teeth, steps back, but catches the tips of Steve’s fingers as he goes.

They have to get the trailer set up first and it looks similar to the one Billy now shares with Susan and Max. He lets the dorks set up the cage in the front, and goes to close the vents in the house with his own roll of chicken wire. Billy knows they wouldn’t think of that on their own, they’re too preoccupied with following the explicit rules of the plan.

The Plan, devised by Wheeler and spoken so authoritatively, Billy was certain Steve was going to cum right in his pants. She's a genius, Steve would say, smartest girl he's ever known. Billy tends to just roll his eyes, ask Steve how she can be so smart when she left the best thing this town has to offer. The plan that puts Billy over here where Steve can't see him.

Steve's doing a great job of it, pretending that he doesn't care that he can't keep eyes on Billy the entire time. But Billy knows better, knows this is killing Steve to be apart. The last time he left Billy alone, he got possessed and turned into a monster's personal recruiter. Billy knows that there wasn't anything Steve could do except also get taken by the same monster.

He finishes rolling the chicken wire over the two vents in the trailer and goes to look for more entry points. His senses have sharpened after being in the hospital and nearly dying. He's gotten better at looking over his shoulder, but that also makes him jumpier and he knows it contributes to Steve's over-protectiveness. Like if he can watch Billy's back enough, Billy won't have to.

It's endearing and also deeply annoying. He loves Steve, but the guy does not need to mother-hen Billy nearly as much as he does.

When he's relatively certain the trailer is going to be as safe as it can be for being in the underworld, Billy joins the other two out in front. They look to be finished too, full of nervous energy and grins. At least Munson is planning on playing something bearable on the roof.

Billy gives Henderson a leg up and when he offers it to Munson, the guy just gives him a look. Fine by Billy, he can figure his own way up. Billy heaves himself onto the roof and settles down on the end opposite Henderson, the fucking bat-things are already getting curious. Just fucking peachy.

"They don't like heat, so just be ready," Dustin warns while Eddie gets himself set up.

"I remember," Billy mutters because his elbow still doesn't bend quite right. He's had sunburns before or spent a little too long in the shower, but never like it was with the Mindflayer. That was a whole other level of fucked up.

Munson strums the first cord and Dustin grins, this is just a game to these fuckers. Steve may love the kid and tolerate Munson, but none of this is a game. People died by Billy's hands and he thinks he's forever going to be bitter about how the others have just gotten to walk away unscathed.

Billy watches the bat things start to circle round, Henderson has a count going for when Eddie needs to wrap things up and they need to get off the roof. Shockingly, it seems like Wheeler's little plan might actually work. Except. Just like when Steve got dragged down to Hell through the lake, the flying fucks also apparently love Billy's throat.

One moment, he's on the roof, listening to the guitar solo and clutching the feed of his flamethrower, and the next he's being lifted into the air, breath choked off. Billy drops the feed, though the backpack doesn't fall so he can get his hands around the tentacle on his neck. He's gasping for air, the ground is dizzying below him and he has no idea how high up he is.

He hears a shout from below, a fierce below and he's plummeting back down, curling his legs to his chest so he doesn't hit the roof too hard. It still knocks the breath out of him, but he can breathe again, chest heaving as he works to get his bearings.

The guitar has stopped and he can feel Munson's hands on his face, patting his cheeks and muttering to himself. There's shouting around him and what sounds like a thunderstorm or a monsoon, like a million raindrops hitting the ground all at once.

"Billy!" That's Steve and he's back way earlier than expected. Munson's hands leave his face to be replaced by Steve's, dragging down his cheeks to his neck. Billy's gonna have another nasty scar to add to his collection. "Billy, shit, can you talk?"

He wheezes and coughs, but manages to get out a, "Guess we match." His fingertips find the still healing mark around Steve's neck and he tries to crack a small smile. He starts coughing again, but it's enough to make Steve grin.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have left you, I should have sent Eddie or something instead," he mutters, hauling Billy into sitting so he can drag air into his lungs again. Steve puts a hand on his back while he watches Billy.

He can hear Dustin asking why they're back so quickly and Nancy does her best to explain how Eleven astral-projected here. Apparently, the thunderous raindrops were actually all the bats falling to the ground and dying. And also, apparently, Steve executed an insane jump off the roof with his axe to sever the tail of the bat that had grabbed Billy. Because he's a dumbass.

"Could have gotten yourself killed doing that," he mutters, rubbing at his neck.

"Yeah well, I told someone not to try and be a hero," Steve replies, getting to his feet to haul Billy up too. He takes the flamethrower off Billy's back and sets it on the roof again, they probably need to get out of here soon, but Steve keeps looking at him like he's more hurt than he actually is. "I'm sorry."

"Only thing you have to be sorry for is leaving me with the Dorky Duo," Billy mutters with a wry smile. He turns to Steve and wraps his arms around his waist, resting his head on Steve's shoulder. "I can handle myself."

"I know you can," Steve lies, wrapping his arms around Billy too. It doesn't matter now who sees, Steve literally jumping off the roof to save him was probably a clue enough.

"I mean it, Harrington," Billy warns, tucking his nose against Steve's neck. He smells like warmth and comfort and fucking pond water and they all need showers.

Wheeler is the one, as always, to get them all into line. She ships them out of this hellhole through the same way they came in, with Steve coming last because he's The Hero. Apparently, the girl who helped break him out of Vecna's hold in the first place is going to come and close this thing up for good.

Billy really doesn't care what has to happen, all he cares about is shoving the flamethrower at Wheeler to deal with and climbing into Steve's car. He leans back in the passenger seat and lets the others argue about what needs to happen. Hopefully the government wackos these people know will show up to clear Munson's name, but it's not Billy's job.

While they talk, Steve leans against Billy's door so it can't be opened. Billy closes his eyes and let's Steve watch his six.

#harringrove #stranger things #greye writes #drabble #anon

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davidmann95 · 7 years

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Agree or disagree: the Court of Owls was more interesting back when it was called the Black Glove, and those guys were more interesting back when they were called the League of Assassins.

Agreed on your first point, not certain I could possibly disagree harder on the second.

Certainly, it’s pointless at this stage to argue that Snyder’s Batman work wasn’t…inspired by Morrison’s tenure, and that the first thing he does is have a group of ultra-rich sadists with ties to Batman’s past try to snuff him out once and for all is very much in line with that, but the Court is ultimately something different than the Black Glove. The Glove, as I’ll get to in a minute, is all about the pain they can inflict, whereas with the Court, while they certainly revel in the suffering that comes with their rituals, at the end of the day they’re all about the business. They’re not out to conquer Gotham in order to summon Barbatos and drink deep of the starry black venom of eternity, they’re in it for money and power. They’re Gotham’s weird gangster class - your Penguins, your Black Masks - ascendant, tied into the power structures of the city on every level and supplied with their own labyrinthine cave, their own molded circus orphans. Even their own vengeful Wayne child, deliberately poisoned and armed by crime as a weapon against the Batman by convincing him to see Bruce as his very own Joe Chill.

With all that you’d sure think they’d have a lot on the ball, but in practice they’ve been chumped out hard. Batman can go to screw with them anytime he likes these days, while the Talons don’t even qualify as minibosses anymore. The issue is that they’re this massive, inevitable threat in Batman’s world, and they’re enticingly easy to bring back - especially with the running start Snyder and Capullo and company gave them - but their mystique is shattered once they’re just another bunch of punks for Batman to Batman all over. It’d help if there was some kind of thematic underpinning to them that could be explored, but all they really are is Spooky Rich Bastards, excellent for the one story but essentially redundant afterwards. Tim Seeley seemed to have realized that, letting Nightwing take them down in his own book and killing off Lincoln March, but Snyder’s bringing them back in with Metal, so we’ll just have to see where it goes. As is, they’re a respectable gimmick that’s already being stretched well past its conceptual breaking point unless and until someone finds something meaningfully new to do with them, or just lets them fall into the background as a single aspect among many of Gotham’s larger underworld.

Taking a step back however we return to Dr. Simon Hurt and the Black Glove, who are basically perfect. For one, Morrison’s concepts rarely get brought back, so they’re not at risk of overexposure - when Hurt properly reemerged recently it was framed as a huge deal, and I very much doubt it’ll meaningfully extend in the long term past two or three books - and R.I.P. isn’t the kind of crowdpleasing blockbuster Court of Owls was, so you can go a hell of a lot weirder with them. The product being that these people aren’t just Spooky Rich Bastards, they’re Spooky Rich MAD Bastards, which makes all the difference. They already rule the world, so they gamble on human life for the simple sake of spreading cruelty and hate because they’re above the law, the concept of capital-c Crime Batman has devoted his life to battling blown up to as platonically grandiose and absurd a scale as Batman himself. Moreover, Hurt himself is plain and simple The Batman Of Crime - not in terms of the role he casts for himself as with Bane, but as a Wayne scion who devoted himself to a bat-shaped ideal and uses his wealth to wage an unrelenting crusade defined by symbolism and warped psychology, who takes the young who have suffered tragedy under his wing, albeit in each case in the most monstrous forms possible. Far more than the likes of Joker or even Two-Face, Hurt and his Black Glove are formed around the distressing thought of what would happen if Batman really was just the sadistic madman so many like to paint him as, reflecting the undercurrent of decadence and unwellness of his world back at him. They’re not reusable in the same way as the Court potentially could be: the Black Glove itself is secondary, and while Hurt’s amazing, he rides a fine line between intimidating and pathetic that would be easily tipped over if he showed up all the time. But for their intended purposes, no one does it better.

The League…not really sure what you’re getting at with them. Ninjas are always well and good, yes, but the League themselves are just jobbers for Ra’s. As for him, heretical as it feels to say I’m starting to get why Grant Morrison said he isn’t actually a fan. His scope is impressive, his motivations are reasonable and reflect Batman’s own, but his actual narrative potential is limited at best. You always know his plan and roughly how he’s going to enact it because his motives and psychology aren’t particularly complicated nor his resources all that outlandish by Gotham standards, you know he and Batman are going to cordially snarl at each other because Batman’s never going to consider his offer and Ra’s is too normal compared to the likes of the Joker or Riddler to really surprise him, there’ll probably be a swordfight, Ra’s will escape justice yet again - the only time I recall anyone putting a notable spin on that formula was Mark Waid with Tower of Babel (stealing the Wayne corpses being a twist he mentioned waking up for years praying no one else would use first). Ra’s, in relation to Batman, is there for 3 stories of any real substance:

1. The initial confrontation and offer of joining forces, followed by the rejection and swordfight, preferably concluding with Ra’s flipping right the fuck out and asking/screaming if Batman is man or fiend from hell.

2. Some kind of final showdown, because the material and emotional stakes are so high with Ra’s and the usual means of detaining Gotham’s villains so insufficient that there has to be an ultimate confrontation to resolve it. We’ve gotten that at least twice: Paul Dini and Dustin Nguyen gave us a defacto last Batman Vs. Ra’s Al Ghul story in Detective Comics #840, while Greg Rucka and Klaus Janson gave us a conclusion focused more on the Al Ghul’s themselves with Death and the Maidens.

3. Ra’s as an immortal eventually lives to see the end of the only man he ever respected, as Pete Tomasi and Don Kramer handed us pretty excellently in Nightwing #152.

And that’s pretty much it. Granted those are three absolutely wonderful stories, but past that, when he’s treated as a regular recurring threat in the same way as your Scarecrows and Mr. Freezes Ra’s is just another stock Batman villain, even if he brings a handful of interesting aesthetic twists with the ninjas and globetrotting and doomsday weapons. That’s not really a flaw either: it’s Talia who’s the real center of the average Al Ghul story, the great lost love who Batman never really could have made it work with even though they both so desperately wanted to fool themselves into believing otherwise, eventually turning on him but with complications that make her a far more unpredictable and versatile and emotionally charged foe, and she in turn begets Damian who brings all kinds of narrative territory onto the table and depends on the context of being from an operation like the League (honestly, Ra’s would be a more consistently potent villain for Damian than he ever was for Bruce). But with Ra’s himself, while he has very specific and powerful uses, by and large he’s almost always existed mainly to facilitate other, more interesting characters.

EDIT: So as it turns out the Court of Owls are out to conquer Gotham in order to summon Barbatos and drink deep of the starry black venom of eternity. The idea of them as an inversion of the iconography of Batman’s family in the same way as Batbatos is of Batman himself has some punch too. Still, they’re ultimately in it for the money and power rather than a sheer belief in Evil as a guiding force unto itself, so they’re a markedly different manifestation from the Black Glove, at heart the same small-minded, high-rolling bastards they always were. Still, them leveraging their symbolism entirely calculatedly and cynically in serve of base goals might be the key to their long-term potential.

#Batman #Court of Owls #Dr. Hurt #The Black Glove #Ra's Al Ghul #League of Assassins #Talia #Damian Wayne #Opinion

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ariel-the-rebellious · 7 years

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The Moment I Said It

In which Ariel and Dash enjoy the first night of the Fall Festival and Ariel says something she can’t take back...

Trigger Warnings: Cuteness, but also minor talk of death near the endish idk

@dashiellrobert-parr

Ariel gasped as she pointed towards a booth. She and Dash had been walking with the #squad but had broken off in favor of playing some games while the others went into the corn maze. (Ariel, decidedly, did not feel like getting lost in a creepy maze after what had happened in the Underworld. Understandable.) She turned to Dash with a wide smile before pulling him along. Inside the booth was a large stuffed penguin. Ariel still wasn't talking much these days, but she bounced up and down before looking at Dash with a devilish grin, playing with the collar of his shirt and batting her eyes.

Dash always fell for the "play with the collar of his shirt" little thing that Ariel did. He could be doing something else, even thinking about something else and the minute the redhead played with the collar of his shirt he just turned into putty. He was sure that Ariel was aware of that. His eyes fell over the stuffed penguin that held Ariel's excitement. It was a prize for the booth in where you pop balloons with darts. He looked down at the redhead giving her a kiss on her forehead as he chuckled. "I'm guessing you really want that penguin, huh?"

A blush colored Ariel’s cheeks at Dash's forehead kiss. She loved that, sweet little stuff. Biting her lower lip, she looked down for a moment before nodding enthusiastically. She had a stuffed fish, but no stuffed penguins. And that one was so cute. "Play with me?" Her voice came out quiet but she was close enough that Dash should have heard her just fine.

Damn, that blush. Dash was always such a sucker for that damn blush, he almost wanted to kiss it right off her cheeks, but he simply smiled down at the redhead, leading her towards the booth. He had caught her question, even when she had said it so quietly. He knew that Ariel had been really quiet as of late, but he hadn't questioned her about it. He didn't want to impose ya know? He figured she'd tell him when she felt comfortable to tell him. They reached the booth and Dash paid the guy behind it for a game. He knew he could win it easily, but he had another idea in mind. He got behind the redhead, wrapping his arms around her as he spoke. "How about I guide your hand as you aim?"

Ariel practically skipped, closing the short distance left to the booth. She had her hands on the edge of the counter, bouncing up and down as she waited. Once Dash paid, she held out her hands for the darts and smiled at the man who gave them to her and explained the rules. It seemed simple enough. She looked to Dash, and tilted her head, perplexed, as he moved behind her. But then she went red feeling his arms wrap around her small frame, and she nodded to him again, holding a dart with her right hand and doing her best to grip it properly.

The rules were simple enough. If they could pop five of the balloons then they could win the stuffed penguin and Dash had every intention to make sure that Ariel would end up going home with her stuffed penguin. If only because it would make her smile that bouncy excited smile of hers that Dash loved to look at. Dash tried his best not to get distracted by how red her features got when his arms wrapped themselves around the redhead. It was hard enough for him to focus on a general bases, add Ariel going red and it made it ten times harder. He watched as she tried to get a correct hold of the dart, a light brush of laugh slipping his lips. Dash took a gentle hold of her hand curving her fingers so that she could hold the dart properly. "This way you won't poke your eyes out, and I kind of really like those eyes, so I personally don't want them poked."

Ariel turned to scrunch her face up at Dash's teasing, but then made sure to blink extra fast and exaggeratedly, leaning back against him too. Giggling, she then straightened herself up and tried to refocus. She tightened her grip and gave a firm nod. "Like this?" she squeaked.

Dash liked how easily Ariel seemed to fit in his arms and how warm she felt leaning close against him. It almost made him lose track of what the hell he was suppose to be doing—darts right he was helping Ariel to make sure she got the stuffed penguin. Fuck. She was such a distraction. "Yeap, just like that." He smiled down at her his hand now softly wrapping around the wrist that was holding the dart. "Now you want to try and aim to see where you're going to throw the dart."

Ariel gave a nod again, and brought the dart up close to her eye, closing the other and sticking out her tongue as she concentrated on where to aim. That was how you aimed, right? Like taking a photo, or... shooting a gun. Weren't you supposed to look down the 'sight' or something? She had gathered that much from video games, at least. She hoped she didn't look like an idiot or something.

Dash watched as Ariel got all very focused placing every inch of her attention into aiming. She had even stuck out her tongue which he found very cute and had to bite back the laugh that was threatening to escape his mouth. He could see the balloon Ariel was focusing on as he placed a kiss on the back of her head and very slowly moved her hand only a tinge lower. "That should do it. Ready to give it a try?"

Ariel’s body folded up slightly as she felt the kiss against her head. Okay, he was distracting. The kiss was distracting, his arms around her was distracting - and as Ariel couldn't help but lean back into him again, his body against hers was distracting as well. Wow, was this nice or what? But- yes. Darts. She remembered the darts as he lowered her hand some and gave a nod, sending the little dart flying towards - well, not the balloon she'd been aiming for, but it did pop one a few below it. With a gasp, she turned back towards Dash and smiled wide, dancing in her place. "I did it!" she whispered, and kissed his cheek quickly before readying another dart, holding it how Dash had taught her the first time.

Dash did laugh then, a fun bout of a laugh as he enjoyed watching how excited Ariel got the moment she saw the balloon pop. He always loved when she got excited, jumped a little on the balls of her feet, or gave a little dance that made her hair bounce along with her. He wasn’t going to lie either, he especially liked when he helped in bringing the excitement and won him a peck of a kiss on his cheek. Shit, who wouldn't? He gave her a gentle squeeze of a hug from behind as he smiled brightly down at her. "Hell yeah! You're a natural at this, Ariel! Barely needed my help." He teased giving her a playful wink.

Ariel turned to scrunch her face at Dash again, and then threw the next dart, popping another balloon. A slight squeal escaped, and she held one out to him so he could throw it, smiling wide. She felt like she must have a twinkle in her eyes. The kind people in movies got when they looked at someone they loved. Or- or liked. A lot. Ariel blushed again at the twist in her thoughts and snuggled back into him, waiting for him to throw his dart.

Dash was aware that Ariel had handed him a dart so that he could throw one next, but he had gotten side-tracked with simply watching the redhead's excitement and how contagious it felt swirling all around him. Then she went ahead and blushed so he got even more distracted and had all but completely forgotten that Ariel was still holding out the dart to him. Instead of grabbing the object, Dash did kiss her cheek this time, enjoying the warmth that tingled against his lips. He pulled back with a grin on his features, finally taking a hold of the dart as he only just remembered what he was suppose to do with it. He took a moment to aim and with a quick flick of his wrist he had popped the third balloon.

Ariel giggled at Dash's kiss, and then jumped up and down when he popped yet another balloon. That was three out of five! Only two darts left. Ariel held another one out to Dash, and readied her own, looking between her boyfriend and the dart with raised brows. "Ready?" she whispered, and when he gave the signal, she let hers soar.

Dash found himself happily laughing along to Ariel's giggle as he picked up another dart at Ariel's cute behest. He aimed to make sure that he wouldn't miss and as he gave the signal both darts flew and both hit balloon. Yes!! Five out of five done. The man behind the booth asked what they would like for a prize and Dash pointed to the penguin that had gotten Ariel so excited earlier. He handed the blonde the stuffed animal as he in turn handed it to Ariel. "He's cute, like his owner."

As soon as the darts hit the balloons, Ariel began to jump up and down in the air pretty high, clapping. This was so great. It was just the distraction she needed - just the night of fun and carelessness she had been hoping for. Taking the penguin, she hugged it tight. Now her fish, Gup, had a friend. Taking a hold of Dash's collar lightly, she reached up on her toes to kiss him softly. "Thanks," she sighed, and brushed her nose against his.

It felt so nice to simply see Ariel having a fun time. Dash was aware that she had been a little off lately, keeping to herself and just being quiet, which really wasn't like Ariel. He was glad to see that she looked back in her element all energy and laughs. He had missed that. He watched her get on her tip-toes, her hands already fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Dammit. Then he felt her lips on his as he happily kissed her right back in return. He pulled her into an embrace, a little hard with a huge ass penguin but he managed. "Any time. You know what you're going to name him?"

Ariel looked down at the penguin with furrowed brows. She held it up, then, pursing her lips, too, as she thought for a good few minutes. "Tuxy." She nodded. Penguins looked like they wore little tuxedos and she liked Tuxy. Even if this penguin was blue. That didn't matter.

Dash had to admit that he has yet to ever hear of the name Tuxy given to anyone. It was definitely unique and I guess if the penguin had been black and white he would totally see it, but this one was blue. Even still he smiled at Ariel, not helping the small little chuckle that brushed out of his lips. "Tuxy. I dig it. It's definitely not a name you hear everyday. Unique for sure. I'm sure he likes it too."

Ariel simply smiled up at Dash's response, and then reached out a hand, making grabby motions for his own. With their fingers linked, Ariel pulled her boyfriend along gently, resting her head on his shoulder, just allowing herself to relax. It was easy, with Dash by her side. All her thoughts just stayed centered on him. "What now?" she asked quietly. She wasn't sure if he wanted to play another game or do something new.

Dash allowed his hand to tangle up right with Ariel's as he took a quick look around the fair. There was a lot they could do. They could play another game and Ariel could get another prize. They could grab something to eat, try the Ferris wheel, or grab a good spot to watch the fireworks. He figured the fireworks were the best bet since it was only happening tonight. "Want to find a good spot so that we can watch the fireworks together?"

Ariel walked aimlessly with Dash, looking around as well, and gave a smile and a nod in his direction. She almost forgot about the fireworks! (No she didn't.) She pulled him along without hesitation, running towards the beach and giggling slightly. Once there, she kicked off her sandals and picked them up, and looked back at Dash. "Where?" she asked. She was wearing a dress and wouldn't mind sitting on the shoreline, but she'd let him decide.

Dash followed Ariel's lead as he was guided to the beach. He didn't go about taking his shoes off since he had sneakers and all and that would be too much of a fucking hassle, but he did take a hold of Ariel's sandals for her so that she didn't have to have so many things in her hand. Sides, he really didn't care of his sneakers got wet in the end. "Uhhh, I wouldn't mind sitting anywhere honestly." But, he did know that Ariel loved the water as his eyes fell over the beach shore. "We can sit by the shoreline? I know how much you love the water."

Ariel smiled as Dash took her shoes, and then nodded as they walked hand in hand to the shore. He knew her. He did. Maybe... not as well as he should. The thought made her smile drop, and Ariel bit at her lip as she took a seat. She set Tuxy down on the other side of herself, getting him comfy in the sand, before she stretched out her legs so that the tide rolled over her feet and ankles each time it came in. It calmed her a bit, but also, on the contrary, poked at her nerves once again. She had to tell him she was a mermaid... one day. But she wasn't sure if now was the moment. Leaning her head on Dash's shoulder, she sighed.

Dash was glad to see that Ariel had beamed a little at the spot he suggested. She may not have expressed liking the spot in words, but her features were bright enough for him to know that she did. Once reaching close to shore he took a seat on the sand and caught the way Ariel's smile had dropped. She had started biting her lip and that meant she was either deep in thought, or something was bothering her. Dash had learned Ariel's little cues by now. He wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but then he saw as she leaned into him her head falling over his shoulder. He heard that little sigh of contentment and instead decided to bite his question back. She had been enjoying herself today, he didn't want to take that away from her. Allowing his head to fall over hers he gave her hand a little squeeze. "You look really nice in that dress, by the way."

Ariel smiled and turned her head, burying it in Dash's shoulder. Just when she was getting a little down, he made her smile. That was nice. "Thanks," she whispered, and looked down at their hands. She traced her thumb over his and went quiet for another moment before she decided to try and speak some more. It felt so weird not to, and thankfully she was in a good enough head space that talking wasn't difficult. "I'm glad we're here. I needed this."

Dash wouldn't have minded staying in the silence if that's what Ariel needed. Granted, it wasn't exactly the easiest of things for him to do, staying quiet and still, especially as of late, but he could do his best pulling off doing so if it was what was needed to give Ariel a peace of mind. He wasn't sure what she was going through and was itching to simply ask, but he also didn't feel like that was his place. Dash looked down at their hands as well, gently bumping his forehead with Ariel's as he gave her a warm smile. "I'm glad it can help." He really was glad to be with her right now, he was always happy to be with her, but if his presence could help her out through whatever the fuck it was that made it that much better. He paused a moment, looking into her eyes. "You're okay though?" He didn't want to know the details of what was going on, again he didn't want to force Ariel into saying anything, but he did want to make sure that she was at least okay.

Ariel took a long moment after Dash looked at her. At first, she looked back into his eyes, but then the color reminded her of the water. So she looked at the water, and the water reminded her of being a mermaid. And being a mermaid was a huge secret - one that up until now, no one but her best friend, who she'd known since childhood, had been aware of. And yet... she had just told Jim.

Was it wrong? That she had told Jim, and not Dash? Sure, Jim had talked to her about mermaids and expressed concern for poaching before, and so that meant he could be trusted, but... it wasn't like Dash couldn't be trusted. Of course he could. She looked back at Dash, searching his eyes as if asking him if she should tell him. He couldn't give her that answer though.

Ariel knew telling Dash would just make her sisters even angrier. They didn't even know that Jim knew yet.

Her heart ached. She didn't know why. It just did. It ached because of the question and the answer. It ached because of the past she'd had with Jim in Ancient Greece that she had no control over. It ached keeping a part of herself from Dash - keeping anything from him. "No," she said, quietly. She looked down, biting at her lip, feeling awful. "I'm sorry. I was. For a while. But... I'm not... overall. I'm sorry," she whispered again.

It took quite some time for Ariel to reply to his question as Dash found himself simply holding still in silence. (Which was hard as hell for him to do to begin with.) He hadn't meant to place Ariel in a bad predicament with his question. The last thing he ever wanted was to have her feel uncomfortable, for any reason at all and certainly never because of him. The thing was that he was concerned. Ariel hadn't been herself lately and yeah like he was aware that people went through shit. Hell, he was going through some shit of his own too, but if it was something that was really bothering her he had hoped she could trust him enough to tell him. He would do his best to change things for her.

When he had heard her answer, Dash remained silent for a moment before gently brushing aside a piece of hair that had blown over her face. "Don't be. It's how you're feeling you shouldn't have to apologize for that. I just... feel a little helpless... like I don't know what to do to help you out."

Ariel smiled sadly in response at first. "It's... It's nothing you can do... It's... something... Um..." She really didn't know where to start, and now she felt like crying because wow, she was scared all over again, thinking of her mother and what she'd seen in the Underworld - what replayed in her head every night. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "I've been lying to you." Her voice came out as a quiet sob, and when she looked back at Dash, it was with tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to. I hate it. I hate not telling anyone and I hate keeping it a secret but I have to because otherwise it's putting my family and I in a lot of danger and then they'll all be so, so mad and Daddy would kill me if he knew I told anyone but I-” She was rambling, she knew it, and she tried to catch her breath but the tears were flowing and she couldn’t stop it.

“I can't. I gotta tell you. You deserve to know, a-and I can't talk to my sisters right now, and... I can talk to you, right?" She looked back at him, crying now, and felt awful and scared and a whole mess of things.

Dash had very honestly not expected the reaction nor answer that he had gotten back. One moment he was very gently brushing some hair back and just trying to be supportive the best that he could, and the next Ariel's eyes had started filling up with tears and he heard her blurt out how she has been lying to him. Dash was at a lost of words and a little taken aback. The good thing about the blonde was that he always recovered quickly and honestly, he hated to see the tears that had started staining the redhead's cheek. The sight hurt as he started to softly wipe away her tears, pulling her in so that he could envelope her in his arms. It was all he could think of doing at the moment to try and give some comfort. He was brand new to all of this.

"Hey.... it's okay." Well, at least he hoped it was. He still hadn't exactly figured out what he had been lied to about. "You can always talk to me, Ariel. I'm here for you."

Ariel was grateful for Dash's embrace. It made her feel at least the tiniest bit better, even if she did feel sort of like an awful girlfriend for keeping all of this stuff from him. She took deep breaths and gave a nod, trying to calm herself down. Pulling back, she wiped at her tears again, as they fell too quickly to ever really be gone completely, and stared down at her legs. Her human legs. Human, for now, until she had to go for a swim or take a long bath. How was Dash going to react to this? If things went bad, Ariel supposed she could try using the water from the Lethe she had taken, but she really, really didn't want to have to do that.

"I'm... U-Um...." She couldn't look at him, could only look at the smooth skin of her thigh, which she traced with one hand. "U-Um... I... I-I'm a m-mermaid," she whispered, and closed her eyes as another sob escaped. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never told you. B-But it's this whole thing with my family, a-and I didn't understand why u-until I went to the Underworld with Jim to try and save everyone, a-and I... I-I saw my m-mother. I... I knew she... I-I knew she'd been killed. Th-That's... I mean, that's what happens. To mermaids. Th-They... W-We... Poachers. They go after mermaids. A-And I saw... I-I saw it. In the Underworld. I saw it happen, a-and I know it wasn't real, b-but my sisters don't talk about M-Mom, and most of them hate me for going, a-and, a-and-" She couldn't catch her breath anymore. The sobs came too quickly, and she dissolved into tears again, so hurt and afraid and upset and... lost.

A mermaid. Now, that really wasn't what Dash was expecting like at all. To be honest, he didn't even know what he should've expected, but mermaid, yeah that was definitely nowhere near any of his thoughts, and that was saying a lot because he constantly had tons of them always zooming by. Even for all the shock her confession gave him, it really didn't change anything. So, she was a mermaid, and he could run at the speed of light with a whole slew of complications he was learning just now about his magic. It wasn't like he was the most typical guy out there. It didn't change anything for him, and no way in hell would he ever consider poaching his girlfriend.

Then Ariel began sobbing hard, the motion raking so terribly through her chest that Dash only pulled her closer to him, his hand gently rubbing her back, hoping to provide some sort of comfort and soothing. "Ariel, I don't care if you're a mermaid. Hell, I really wouldn't care if you told me you were a unicorn or a dragon." He pulled her back slightly so that she could look at him now as he looked at her with soft warm eyes. "It doesn't make a difference to me. I run at the speed of light, Vi, she can make force fields and go fucking invisible, my dad has super strength and my mom, she's crazy flexible. It makes no difference to me and I sure as hell won't go poaching you. Shit I can't ever think about hurting you." He pulled her back into his arms, hugging her for a good moment. "And I'm so, so sorry you had to see all that.... and that you felt like you couldn't talk to anyone... but you got me, okay? You can always talk to me."

Ariel sniffled and chuckled at Dash's little joke, and wiped at her face when he looked down at her. It felt like part of the weight was lifting off of her chest. She had just been so scared, so worried, so- so many things. But here Dash was, wonderful as ever, telling her none of it mattered to him and making sure she could tell him whatever she needed. Her bottom lip trembled and she dove into his arms when he pulled her in again, just staying there for a minute. "I'm not the dragon," she whispered after a while of trying to catch her breath. Then, she pulled away and wiped at her eyes again before looking up at Dash tentatively. "You're really not.... upset? Th-That I kept it from you?"

It felt a breath of fresh air to hear Ariel laugh, even if it was a small thing of a chuckle. It was still something in the end as Dash helped the redhead in wiping her tears. He really hated seeing them on her, really hated the fact that she had been holding in so much that she had to result to tears because of the weight of all. He didn't want that for her. Ariel was always so energetic and bubbly, she wasn't meant to be crying. He felt her pull herself in closer to him as he wrapped his arms around her a little tighter and placed his chin above her head. He even laughed a little then. "You're right, that would be Deb's magical creature she got herself." He teased at his little dab at Jake.

When Ariel pulled back and looked him Dash simply smiled, giving a shake of his head. "Nah, promise. You had your reasons ya'know? It wasn't like you were doing it on purpose to hurt me. Sides, I'm kinda use to magic secrets. My family and I had to keep ours for basically my entire life until we all moved here to Swynlake, so I totally understand your reason why. We did the same shit too." It was then when a thought dawned him. "Talking about that, I never told you about my parents did I?"

Ariel tilted her head to the side, hearing that Dash and his family had magical secrets of their own. "Really?" she asked quietly, and sniffled again, her tears finally slowing until they were nearly gone and passed. She could use a distraction, hearing about someone else’s secrets for a change. "N-No. You... You didn't. Why did you keep your powers a secret?"

Dash could see that tilting the burdensome conversations of secrets over to his end was helping to serve as a distraction of sorts for Ariel, and honestly he was perfectly happy with that. Anything really to help stop those tears from forming again. He nodded his head, helping in wipe the last set of tears that had stained the redhead's cheeks. "Yeah, really. You ever heard of these two very popular superheros back in states that have like a shit ton of comic books and even action figures about them? Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl? Yeah, that's my mom and dad. They had to start hiding their identities though and their powers because of the anti-magick laws that started forming. If we all didn't there were some bad consequences. Vi is a little scarred up about them even still. I was still little when all that shit started happening so I got masked from it." He shrugged a little. "It was why my family and I were always moving too."

Ariel nodded along to Dash's question, sinking into the distraction and trying to put everything bothering her into the past again. It was out there, and she could talk to Dash about it again if she needed to, and that was enough. It also helped that her eyes went wide and she was particularly shocked hearing that Dash's parents were the famous Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl. I mean, what??? "Oh my goodness! That's... That's so crazy. I would have never guessed. Wow! I'm so sorry." She reached out to take his hand in both of hers, but couldn't help but smile a bit. "I guess we both had our secrets about our family, huh?" She bit at her bottom lip, looking down at their hands, and then back up at Dash. "I won't tell. And I know you won't either. I trust you. I really trust you. You just... You can't tell anyone. N-Not even my sisters. Okay?"

Dash really couldn't help the slight huff of a laugh that had escaped his lips at seeing Ariel's eyes get all wide the moment he had revealed to her who his parents had been. It was an expected reaction, not that he has honestly seen it much since he has told only one person about his parents' identity aside from Ariel now. "They do a pretty good job keeping it all hush hush. Well, my mom does and then she goes and keeps dad in line so like he doesn't have much of a choice." He laughed again giving a bit of a shrug. When he felt Ariel's hand in his the blonde couldn't help but to give it a gentle squeeze, a warm smile lining his lip. "Just a little bit, nothing big right?" He teased playfully before bending his head so that he could leave a kiss on Ariel's lips. "I promise I won't. Your secret is safe with me."

"Nothing bigger than that," Ariel agreed, and smiled as Dash leaned in to kiss her, returning it in kind. She felt so relieved to be able to tell him this- all of it. Well... most of it, anyhow. "Thank you," she breathed when he pulled away, and just then, the fireworks began to boom in the sky. Ariel turned, wide-eyed, and couldn't help but let out a small laugh. It was beautiful. She always had loved fireworks.

The fireworks were a pretty awesome sight at the moment. Swynlake looked like they were doing a phenomenal job, or that easily could’ve been because Dash was sharing this moment with the one person he wanted to share it with most. That always made things ten times better, even at prom when shit had started to go south, he still had the most amazing time simply because Ariel was with him. That was how it felt now, as Dash took Ariel’s hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, his head falling over hers. “You know... this is my first time really ever seeing fireworks up close. I know that probably sounds pretty fucking pathetic—” He laughed then a bit sheepishly at his admission, “but I’ve only ever seen them in TV ‘cause my family moved around so much.”

"Really?" Ariel couldn't help but pull away to look at Dash, wide-eyed. "Oh my goodness! I can't believe that!" She looked up at the sky, now bouncing in her spot, so unbelievably happy and at ease. "Aren't they amazing? They're so beautiful. I love how they echo across the lake, it's just so... magical." She looked back over at Dash then, with a wide smile, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "But, y'know. I'm with you, that's magical enough," the redhead shrugged, quoting Dash from prom night.

"Really, really. We moved so fucking much that I really couldn't do anything." Dash shrugged though trying to make it sound like it really had been nothing. It was fine now anyways, now he actually had some real friends, and a girlfriend he really, really liked who couldn't be anymore awesome and perfect if he tried, so for all things considered he had really lucked out. "But, yeah they're amazing, can't say they are as amazing and as beautiful as this redheaded girl who just happens to be sitting right next to me, but I'm not sure if much is." His lips curled into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with a charming air of mischief as he looked at Ariel. He couldn't help but to laugh then, dipping his head a bit to very happily receive the cute kiss on his cheek. "Funny, I think I might have just heard those words before."

Ariel frowned. "That stinks." She was glad he was here now, though, and hoped that he planned on staying. Preferably for a very, very long time. She blushed at all Dash's compliments, and reached up to boop his nose with her finger lightly. "You might have said them, actually. That, or it was some other really cute guy being an amazing date."

Dash simply shrugged his shoulder. "I mean it did and all, but it landed me here and I can't say that wasn't the best thing that has happened to me. I got to meet real friends here and it was where I got to meet you. Makes it all worth it." He laughed as Ariel bopped his nose, the blonde playfully splashing bits of water over at Ariel. "Uhh, no. I remember being the only super good looking guy there taking the best amazing date that can be taken to prom, so yeah that was me. I meant them too."

Ariel smiled, warm, and then squealed at the splashes of water. "Hey!" She gathered some of her own to splash him with as well. Her giggle died down as she bit at her lip, then, batting eyelashes up at him. "Yeah? That's good. Because, y'know, I like the idea of being with you being magical and all. It matches how you make me feel."

Dash laughed full and happily as he tried to deflect from the water that had made his way back to him. "Hey! It wasn't suppose to come back to me!" He teased, retaliating by splashing some more water right at the redhead. "It comes back to me and Tuxy is getting it." He leaned a little closer then, leaving a sweet lingering kiss right on the redhead's lips, pulling back only slightly but not enough to break the proximity. "Well, you're magical to me, Ariel so I'm glad that it does. You really shouldn't admit to that again though, because my ego won't be able to take it." He placed a teasing grin on his lips then, kissing her one last time all over again.

"You leave Tuxy out of this!" Ariel yelled, before he kissed her and made her go all quiet and mushy and, man, kissing was nice. She always knew it would be, but she could have never guessed how it would make her feel, y'know? Tingly and warm and like everything was just right. "Wouldn't want to ruin your ego," she mumbled, leaning into the kiss with a content sigh. She placed a hand on his neck as the other still stay clasped with his, and thought about how great this was. How... well, magical the moment was, with the fireworks booming and lighting up the sky and Dash making her heart beat right out of her chest. Ariel pulled away then, just the slightest bit, still close enough to feel Dash's breath on her lips.

"I love you." The words left her own without thought. She was just so happy, so full- she couldn't help it. Even still, nerves fluttered up inside of her as she chanced a glance up into Dash's eyes.

Had Dash heard right??? He wasn't so sure if he had if he was quite honest with himself. He had been so distracted kissing Ariel and loving how sweet her lips felt against his and how incredibly warm her arm felt wrapped around his neck. He had gotten lost in her eyes, and how pretty her hair looked so up close dripping tiny droplets from the water he had splashed on her. She looked beautiful, he always thought that she did, but having her so up close only amplified it all. He knew he could have easily heard wrong. And he waited, not breathing a word, waiting to see if Ariel would say she was kidding and laugh it off, but she hadn't. He smiled wide, eyes still looking straight at her, breath hitched in his throat. "Really? You.... you really do?"

Ariel bit her lip, the nerves sort of starting to take over, squirming around in her stomach. "Y.... Yeah?" She winced a bit, hand flinching on his neck. It had come so naturally, that had to mean it was real, right? I mean, Dash made her feel like glitter was exploding inside of her and fire was warming her up and she always got all tingly and there were so many things about him that were so great... How could she not love him? Right? "I... I do," she nodded, trying not to think of worst-case scenarios... like Dash realizing he wasn't that into Ariel and running off and leaving her alone on the beach during romantic fireworks.

Dash was shocked. Very shocked, and excited; he could feel that excitement running straight through his veins sizzling and surging much in the way his magic did when he ran. Holy shit! He had actually heard right.... holy shit! He hadn’t spoken a word yet, but he hadn’t stopped looking at Ariel either. He could feel strays of her hair touching the features of his face from the small breeze that swirled them towards him. They were so vibrant, much like the owner herself. That had always been what drew Dash so much to the girl right in front of him. Ariel was smiles, and laughs. She was vibrant, bounces and giggles, so much energy and light. He was energy too, a lot of it fast and never stopping, but Ariel, she was his calming wave, the person who could make slowing down possible when it always felt such an impossible feat.

If that was love he would take it for what it was, as both of his hands gently cupped Ariel’s face drawing her in closer to him. He brought his lips in contact with hers kissing her with a sweet, sweet lingering kiss that hopefully spoke for him.

Ariel didn't know what to think about Dash's silence, and the way he was looking into her eyes all intensely. Oh, she'd said it too soon, hadn't she? She'd rushed it. But she couldn't help it. She couldn't help how she felt. She was about to start gnawing on her bottom lip again when he took her face into her hands. Then, the redhead froze, eyes blinking shut when he kissed her.

The thing was, Ariel wasn't really sure what the kiss meant. Did the kiss mean he loved her, too? Did it mean that he liked her and didn't want to hurt her feelings by not saying it back? Was he trying to distract her? Was it a goodbye kiss? All of these thoughts raced through her head and now Ariel's heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest for a different reason. Oh, what had she done? She kissed him back with eyes squeezed shut tight and tried to not to think about it anymore. Maybe if she forgot she said it he would forget, too.

Dash hoped that his kiss were able to speak for his own emotions because he honestly didn't know how to discern them. He knew he was absolutely over the moon for Ariel. He loved being with her, spending as much of his time with her as he possibly could, talking with her, holding her, kissing her, everything. He knew he has never liked someone as much as he liked Ariel, and never really cared for being with anyone as much as being with Ariel, but he didn't know if all of that was love. He'd never fallen in love with anyone before, how was he suppose to know what it felt like? Dash felt Ariel press her lips against his and all of his jumbled thoughts seem to zoom on by as he simply kissed her back, enjoying the moment he was able to have with her.

Ariel pulled back after a moment, and slid her hand from his neck, back on top of their joined fingers. Her tongue darted out to lick at her lips before she started to gnaw at the bottom one again. Fireworks still boomed in the air, but they started to get farther and farther apart. She stayed quiet for a moment - maybe a part of her hoping he would say it back - but then the moment passed and she cleared her throat, chuckling a bit awkwardly as she pulled away completely, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Um..." The last firework erupted in the sky, and Ariel glanced over to watch it trickle out as the crowd begun to cheer. "Do... Do you wanna walk me home?"

Dash knew he fucked up. He must have, because Ariel seem to only want to slip away from him and then she started to bite her lip and clear her throat. Clearing of the throat was always a bad sign. He would get that all the time before his mom gave him a new grounding sentence or with his teachers because well... he was Dash. He felt absolutely awful about everything, his stomach turning over in knots as the fireworks only felt further away now barely even registering.

He just.... he didn't want to tell Ariel that he loved her if he wasn't even sure if what he felt was that. For all he knew it could be, but he didn't know! The last thing he would ever want to do was lie to her. He wanted to explain that all to her, but when she asked to be walked home he only felt defeated. He softly nudged his forehead against hers even though he felt like shit at the moment and took a hold of her hand to help her get up. "Yeah, I'll take you home..."

Ariel smiled at the forehead nudging and Dash helping her get up and honestly, it didn't seem so bad. He wasn't saying he didn't like her or that he wanted to break up. He had kissed her and was taking her home. But... then, he also hadn't said he loved her back. So she really needed to stop thinking about it, to be honest, because if she kept thinking, then she would overthink and worry and drive herself insane. So she smiled as she stood up, making sure to grab Tuxy with her free arm, and then held Dash's hand as he led the way home.

#oneshot #bdrponeshot #drabbles #drabble #dash #s: energy bar #s: you're magical to me #bye

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drawingsanddrabbles · 8 years

Text

Joke’s On You

chapter three: Hit List

betaed by @ilovebeingintroverted

links

After Tim had gone shopping for the tools he was missing he saddled up his pants and jacket. Tim then made a list of Gothamites he was going to look up.

1. Catwoman

2. The Penguin

3. Commissioner Gordon

4. Vicki Vale

5. Harley Quinn

These people were intimately connected to Gotham, if he wanted to know anything about what had happened in the last five years since he died they would know. Tim paused as he read the list over. His pencil hovered over paper, itching to write out a name. Tim couldn’t help himself. He had to check in on him.

6. Alfred Pennyworth

Next he dressed in his new uniform. He stared at the domino mask (his only impulse buy) before stuffing it in one of his numerous pockets. Then he placed the mask over his head. He took one last look in the mirror, recognizing his new look. The Red Hood. Tim ripped his latest list out of the notebook and stuffed it into his jacket. Then he glanced at his watch. Nine fifty two PM. Time to go.

When he ran across Gotham he felt wind whip around his uniform. He couldn’t feel it through his rather overgrown hair because of the mask, he missed that. He took out a grappling hook when he got to the end of the part of town he was in and shot it out, it wound around a piece of iron holding up a gargoyle and Tim swung. For the first time in years he swung. God, he had missed that. He landed on the gargoyle and unhooked his grapple before firing it again and then swinging once more. It was almost as good as flying.

When he finally crossed downtown he went straight to the first name on his list. Selina Kyle’s.

Selina Kyle smiled as she pet her black cat. The cat purred and rubbed its head against Selina’s leather glove. Selina used one of her claws to scratch under the cat’s chin. Tim slipped open her window and she jumped backwards, claws out.

“I’m not here to hurt you Selina, I just want to talk.” Tim said as he slipped out of the night air and into her apartment.

“How do you know my name?” Selina’s cat hissed at Tim. Tim glared at it and it licked a paw, deciding that it had said its piece and now wished to ignore him.

“I know your address; why wouldn’t I know your name?”

“How do you know my address, then?”

Tim sighed. “Look, Selina that’s not really importan-“ Selina pounced, and Tim rolled his eyes behind his mask. Tim blocked Selina’s punch and grabbed her wrist. He slammed her front into the closest wall and sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you Selina.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem that way to me.” It was the grim smile that slithered onto Selina’s lips that made Tim release her.

“Ew, Selina. Just… ew.”

Selina frowned. “Do I know you?”

Tim barked a laugh. “Well, my voice has changed a little.” Tim slipped the hood off his face. “Recognize me now?”

“No.”

Tim sighed. He didn’t want to have to do this but… Tim stuffed a hand in his pocket and Selina flexed her claws. “Just getting a clue…” Tim told her, but Selina didn’t relax. Tim slipped on the domino mask and grinned. “Remember me now?”

“No… Robin-? But you’re not Rob—you’re…” Tim watched as Selina’s brain figured out what was happening. She laughed. “I can’t believe you’re alive. Batman is going to kill you. You know he went ballistic when you died. Bad day for him. Bad day for all of us.”

“I know. Selina, I need you to help me. Tell me about the new Robin.”

“What about him?”

“Is he… is he good?”

“He’s… different. Playful. Not like you or your older brother. How is ‘Wing by the way?”

“Still too young for you.”

Selina grinned. “Your father figure’s more my type. But the new one he’s raw, he smells like the street. Not high class like you two. He has the accent too. But he’s good.”

“Street?” Tim frowned.

“Yeah.” She must have sensed his confusion because she asked, “are you okay there, ex-Robin?”

“Yeah. Fine. Look, Selina I should go-“

“Does Batman know?”

“What?”

“Batman. Does he know you’re alive?” Selina asked. She removed her mask and began removing her gloves. She was showing Tim that she was letting her guard down. Trying to get him to lower his.

Tim crossed his arms. “No. And you won’t tell him.”

“Why not?” Selina asked, fingers running down her cat’s back.

“He won’t believe you.” Tim came up with.

Selina smiled before kissing the black feline’s head. “That is true. But tell me, if you aren’t going to tell him you’re alive then what are you going to do?”

Tim didn’t respond. Selina walked into her kitchen to get something. “You know,” she called from the room, “I’ve been thinking of getting myself a little protégé.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And you’re offering me the job?”

Selina walked back in and cracked open a bottle of water. “Well I don’t see why not. You already have training, I could get you all dolled up in leather, with long diamond tipped claws… A mini-whip. Or maybe you’d like another weapon.” Selina took a sip of the water. She licked her lips. “A staff might look good on you…”

“I’m not a petty thief, Selina.”

“Nothing ‘petty’ about it.” Selina took another swig. “Imagine the reveal! You and Batsy on a rooftop, and a batarang slices your mask and goggles off. His eyes widen as he recognizes you and you say something clever before jumping off the edge and into an endless crowd. When he rushes to the border he can’t find you.”

“You have weird fantasies.”

Selina snapped her fingers. “They could call you Catlad!”

“That’s even worse than Robin.”

“Speaking of which, what’s your new moniker? Unless, of course, you’re going to go by your real name.”

“Nice try, Selina, but why would I tell you that?”

“We’re villains, kid. We share. That’s how the Gotham underworld works, we share, we network.”

Network, huh? “I’m not a villain.”

“Really?” Selina snorted. “Sorry, with the whole faking-your-death thing and the getting-recon-on-the-local-heroes thing, I figured you had switched sides.”

Switched sides. “Does killing the Joker count as switching sides?”

Selina frowned. “What are you talking about, Kid?”

“Never mind.” Tim walked to the window. “See you around Selina.”

“See you around… Not-Robin?”

“Just call me Red Hood.”

Selina raised an eyebrow. “A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Says Catwoman.”

“Touché, Hood.”

Tim slipped out onto the fire escape. “The offer still stands, kitten.” Selina called out to him.

“Somehow, I think I’ll manage as Red Hood. Thanks again Selina.” And just like that he was gone. Selina shook her head, Batman taught him well.

The Iceberg Lounge was completely overdone in Tim’s mind. Tim thumbed through an accounts book at Oswald Cobblepot’s desk. The Penguin’s office went with the theme of the club, behind doors the color of ice a lavish black chair sat at an ice colored desk. A TV was hung across from the desk, the only thing on the walls. Tim put his feet on the desk and put down the accounts book, there was nothing interesting in it. No one who he could use. Tim began opening drawers and searched through them for a remote.

The click of a gun was what made Tim look up. “What are you doing in my chair?” Cobblepot asked.

“Looking for the remote.” Tim responded. “Do you have Netflix?”

“I would advise you to stand up very slowly with your hands in the air. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for information. I bet you are too. Want to know how I got in here?” Tim asked with a smirk. The Penguin narrowed his eyes. “You have really bad firewalls, and really lazy guards. I took them both out easily. I told you, now you tell me: who runs Gotham? Who has been in the big leagues for the past five years?”

The Penguin frowned slightly. He lowered his gun. “Smart.” Tim complimented.

“Get out of my chair.” Oswald snapped.

“Tell me what I want to know.”

“Get out of my chair.” Tim stood and Oswald waddled over to the desk. “No one.”

“What?”

“I said no one. No one has been ruling Gotham, not recently.”

“That’s a lie. Someone’s always ruling Gotham City.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Red Hood. Spread the word. Now, tell me the truth.”

Oswald snorted and sat in his chair. “The Red Hood is already taken, try Dead Hood. Because that’s what you’ll be if you try to work your way into the big leagues, kid.”

“I know Red Hood is already taken. I’m being ironic.”

Oswald frowned. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it. You’re good. In fact, if this is an audition-“

“It isn’t.”

“-I’ll hire you. But you aren’t ready.”

“Humor me.”

“I, of course, handle finances for my clients. Catwoman is Gotham’s resident crook, Poison Ivy the resident eco-terrorist, Scarecrow scares people to death, and the Joker… well you know the Joker if you’re taking his name. But for drugs and weapons, Gotham goes to the Black Mask.”

“Thank you.” Tim turned to the ice doors to leave. He then sighed. “Oswald, please put down the gun. Shooting a man in the back is a little rude.”

Tim watched Oswald’s reflection in the ice doors and the Penguin put down the gun. “You sound like the Bat.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

As Tim walked out the doors, winding through the glacier themed halls of the Lounge, he took out his list in his pocket and a pen. He added a name to the paper.

7. Black Mask

He struck off The Penguin’s name and he folded the paper back up, stuffing it into one of his pockets. He glanced at his watch: eleven ten. He wondered if the Commish was still up.

As it turned out, he wasn’t. Tim sat on Commissioner Gordon’s fire escape staring at him in what was probably a stalker-ish way. The Commissioner lay on his bed, alone. His wife had died recently, if Tim remembered correctly. He looked so stressed, even in sleep. He had deep lines on his face and his body seemed tensed; a hand clenched around the corner of the pillow next to his head. Tim felt bad for the man, head of Gotham’s police department yet nothing ever changed crime-wise here. And he was such a good man too. Tim even considered letting him sleep through the night. Going to the next name on the list and letting the poor Commissioner have a moment of rest.

But then Tim remembered what had happened to him, then he remembered what had happened to Steph. His mind invented her reaction. In his mind’s eye he saw the Joker raise his gun, he saw Stephanie’s blue eyes widen behind her mask and then the loud bang! Only this time the Joker’s gun wasn’t a novelty one, this time it was real. And Stephanie’s Kevlar didn’t protect her this time. Tim felt his hands shake again. His stomach churned in his belly and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Deep calming breaths, that was all he needed. When he felt the nausea pass he opened his eyes. He placed a hand down on the decaying metal rail, tightening it into a fist to stop the quaking. Deep calming breaths.

Here goes nothing.

Tim jimmied open the window and slid into the room as quietly as he could. He looked at the Commissioner, still sleeping soundly. He must have had a really tough day (that was the only type of day Gotham ever had).

“Jim.” Tim whispered, nudging the officer slightly. “Jim...”

The Commissioner jumped up from his sleeping position, gun in hand (did he keep one under his pillow? Good man). Tim raised his hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.” He told the other man softly.

“Who the hell are you and why the hell are you in my house?”

“Don’t want to know how I got in?” Tim asked. Jim Gordon cocked the gun. Ohhhkay, no joking.

“You have five seconds before I shoot you.”

“Jim,”

“One.”

“You don’t want,”

“Two.”

“To do this.”

“Three.”

“I can’t believe you,”

“Four.”

“Don’t recognize me.”

“Five.” Then the Commish paused. “Why would I recognize you?”

Tim shrugged. Dammit, I shouldn’t have said that! Tim was thankful for the mask, which hid his sudden ‘oop’ facial expression. “Because we’ve met before.”

“Did I shoot you before?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Did I count to five already?”

“Please, Jim. There’s no one in all of Gotham who could help me more than you right now.” That was a lie, but what did Jim know.

“So you break into my house?”

“Really? I’m wearing a mask and I’m in Gotham. Are you surprised?”

Jim didn’t answer.

“Jim, please. Put down the gun.”

“I feel safer like this.”

“Fine, but at least hear me out.” The Commissioner hadn’t shot Tim yet so he figured he could talk. “I need to know what happened to Batgirl.”

“Nothing has happened to Batgirl.”

“The old one. And before you tell me to look it up, I have. I need to know what happened out of the report. I need to know what happened to the Bat.”

“Why? So you can take him down?”

“No!” Jim narrowed his eyes as the desperateness in Tim’s voice. “Please, Jim. Tell me what happened.”

“She got shot.”

“There’s more than that Jim, there’s more than that and you know it. I need to know it too.”

Jim frowned. Tim could see the gears turning in his head. Tim watched as Jim’s trigger finger tensed and then he heard footsteps. Slight, but there. There was a gasp, and both the Commissioner and Tim looked at the door. A little redheaded girl stood there, eyes wide as she looked from her father to Tim.

“Daddy? What’s going on?”

“Daddy’s just talking to a friend. Why are you up? It’s past your bedtime.” Jim said, eyes snapping back to Tim.

Tim couldn’t believe how much she’d grown in the five years he was gone. She had to be… what? Seven, now? “I wanted a drink of water.”

“Honey, you just had a drink of water.” Jim argued.

“I need to pee.”

“Fine. Go to the bathroom, Babs, but then straight to sleep.”

“Fine…” Babs mumbled. Before she walked away she glanced at Tim. “Hey Mister Vigilante, you better leave. Mister Batman doesn’t like other heroes in his city. That’s why Superman is never here.”

“Vigilante is a big word, how do you know it?” Tim asked. Jim glared at Tim but did nothing.

“My Daddy taught it to me. Also you should do as he says. He’s very good at shooting people.”

“Babs, go to bed.”

“But I gotta pee.”

Tim couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. James Gordon sighed. Barbara Gordon smiled at Tim before waving and walking the rest of the way down the hall.

“She’s cute.” Tim complimented.

“If I ever see you near her I will castrate you.” Like you’d even know I was there.

“How do you even know I have balls?”

“Really?” The look on Commissioner Gordon’s face almost made Tim want to laugh again, but he held back.

“Batgirl?” Tim prompted.

“Joker did what he always did, and she got shot. End of story.”

“Jim.”

“She was protecting someone… a child. The Joker was going to kill the girl and she offered herself up in the child’s place. He had Batgirl with her back facing to him, arm around her neck, gun to her back. Three shots in the same spot to the lower spine. Pierced right through the Kevlar.”

“And,” Tim took a breath trying to hide the voice crack. His vision changed automatically, now there were more gunshots, he could see their faces from the front. The Joker’s bloody grin and Steph’s blue eyes… “After?”

“She fell. Batman ran to her. The Joker got away. We never saw her again.”

“Not even you?”

“Not even me.”

“Th-thank you, Jim.”

“You-you said I knew you.” Jim mumbles when Tim backs out of his room, eyes never leaving the armed Commissioner. “Who-?”

“Sorry, Jim. Gotta leave some secrets to myself.” And Tim was gone.

Vicki Vale, Gotham’s finest investigative reporter, was still awake and working. Tim snorted, if this whole killing-the-Joker-thing didn’t work out maybe he could get paid for prying into Bruce’s other nightlife like Vale. Red hair pulled into a messy bun, a steaming cup of coffee on her desk, Vicki Vale was deep in her work. She stood and walked to the other side of the room, chewing on a pencil eraser. The wall she stared at had what looked like a large Murder Board, papers strung together with yarn, markers, post-its. Tim wondered who she was chasing.

Vicki’s lips moved and it took Tim a minute to realize that he was blown. I can see you. Tim watched as she turned towards the floor to ceiling windows and opened one. “Come on in, Batman.”

She thought he was Batman. She turned around again and continued to stare at the Murder Board. Tim swung into the room, as light on his feet as possible. “I actually expected you a little earlier. You know, this Black Mask guy might be my Lex Luth-“

“Black Mask, huh?”

Vicki Vale jumped, turning around. “You’re-you’re not Batman.”

“What gave me away? Was it the non-grumpy exterior?”

“Who-why are you here?” She took a deep breath and straightened her back. Eyes hard, chest puffed out. She wasn’t afraid. She was confident.

“Who? Call me Red Hood, and as to why? I wanted to ask you something…”

Vicki Vale raised a manicured eyebrow. “Shoot.”

Bang. “The Joker, what do you know?”

“About him?” Vale snorted. “Anything you can ask me about, and you ask about the Clown?”

“All I need from you.”

Vale frowned. “Hmm…” She mused. “How about a trade? Tell me why and I’ll tell you what’s he’s been up to.”

“Think of it this way, whatever you tell me will determine the biggest story of the decade.”

“… Will determine what about the biggest story of the decade?”

“Whether or not the story exists. Now spill.”

“I get first dibs on this story.”

“Miss Vale, if this all goes right I won’t be able to tell it to you. But Batman will.”

Vicki Vale narrowed her eyes. “This… do you think this will cause you to die Red Hood?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I intend to follow it through. Spill.”

“I don’t know where he is, if that’s what you’re asking. You’ll probably want to go to his girlfriend for that. But I have heard that something big is coming, the Joker doesn’t just break out of his comfy Arkham jail cell for nothing. He has something planned and it’s going to be as big as poisoning the water, as big as shooting Batgirl, as big as killing Robin.” Vale spoke like she was writing. The tones she spoke with were almost lyrical.

“And you have no clue what it is he’s planning?”

“Nah. Not that informed.”

“Well, thank you.” Tim turned to leave.

“Red Hood?” Vale asked before he swung out the window. “Why did you chose the Joker’s old moniker?”

“You’re an investigative reporter. You figure it out.”

Sunrise. Tim’s second in Gotham since his revival. He could get used to this. After a few minutes he shook himself from the awestruck gaze of the morning and began searching for a coffee shop. Villains didn’t vanish when the sun went up.

He looked at the last three names on his list:

5. Harley Quinn

6. Alfred Pennyworth

7. Black Mask

Tim hummed as he shoved a pastry in his mouth. He kept forgetting to eat, that was problematic when organizing an assassination. He should set a reminder or something. Tim hesitated a second before scratching out the last two names and switching them. He could save Alfred for later.

Now… how would someone go about finding Harley Quinn?

“Harley Quinn? Who the hell is Harley Quinn?”

Talia tossed the newspaper at Tim’s feet. Tim stared at the picture under the Gotham Gazette headline; a woman wielded a mallet larger than her over her shoulder. Her masked white face was split into a maniac grin. The costume she wore was split down the middle, red and black. The sections alternated as they went down and red colored diamonds decorated her black shoulder.

“The poor girl was seduced by the Joker.” Talia told him as she stretched, loosening her muscles. “I hope you will not fall into the same trap.”

Tim snorted. “Please, the Joker is the last Gotham villain I would sleep with.”

“Stand.” Talia ordered. Tim tossed the paper and stood. Talia attacked.

Tim paid and decided to start at the bottom. First he set a program to find any mention of Harley Quinn within the last hour, his phone began buzzing like crazy and it took him a moment to scan through them. None mentioned where she was, mainly just memes. Tim stuffed his phone into his pocket and went to the next step.

The first drug dealer he found knew nothing, but he did helpfully point Tim to his superior who in turn (with a little incentive) told Tim that he didn’t know anything about Harley Quinn but hey, Poison Ivy was in town recently and she had been seen around Harley, why didn’t Tim check the Botanical Gardens which had recently closed down?

Tim thanked him and started towards the center of downtown, where the Botanical Gardens were. Tim raised his eyebrows when two masked bandits ran by.

Really?

Tim heard the nearest bank alarm go off and he ducked into an alley and slipped on his helmet, turning in the direction of the bandits. This would be fun. Tim ran them down, sirens beginning to blare in the distance. They didn’t have a getaway driver and they were in the middle of the city, either they were extremely stupid or they had another escape route. Only when Tim followed their dust into a dead-end alley did he realize their escape plan.

And Tim had been sewer-free for six months...

Grudgingly, Tim slipped open the manhole cover in the alley way and climbed down onto the dry path next to the pungent stream of shit water.

“Aw, c’mon! It’s day, the Bat ain’t gonna show!” Tim heard the echo of one of the bandits.

“Dude, it’s the Bat. He’ll show up at the hideout.”

“We’re in the clear, dude!” Tim hedged around the corner to see two unmasked bank robbers. The two of them were dividing up money into small bags they must have stashed here.

“Not quite.”

One of them jumped, dropped his bag and money spilled out. “Shit! I knew we was gonna get caught!”

“Dude, do you see a Batsymbol on him?” The other asked him.

“Robin don’t have a Batsymbol.”

“Yeah, but Robin’s Robin.”

Tim snorted. Couldn’t have said it better myself. “You two sound like a married couple.”

“We are!” The upset one chirped. He waggled an ungloved finger with a ring on it.

The other nudged him. “Dude!”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Tim said, grinning behind his mask. “You haven’t lost any cool points for being married.” They shared a loving look and Tim sighed. “But you’re both going to jail.” Tim took out a pair of handcuffs. “You have five seconds to surrender.” He told the happy couple.

“Yeah, right.” The over-confident one said.

Tim sighed. It didn’t have to be this way. The fight wasn’t much of a fight, but more of a they-tried-to-attack-him-with-a-bat-and-Tim-took-it-away-and-bopped-them-on-the-head-until-they-submitted-to-being-cuffed. Tim refilled the bank bags with money and grabbed the chain on the handcuffs. The married couple grumbled.

“I told ya we’d get caught.”

“I was trying to be romantic, okay? Plus, he ain’t a Bat. So you were wrong.”

“Really? Calling me wrong? That really the best idea right now?”

Ah, young love.

Tim dragged them out to the first police precinct he saw and handed them off to the first uniform he saw. Then he handed the rookie’s partner the money. “The bank robbers from about thirty minutes ago.”

Both rookies seemed a little speechless so Tim left them to their duties. After checking for a tail for a couple blocks he took off his helmet and found himself a street away from the Botanical Gardens. Cool.

Tim scaled the fence, and dropped into gated gardens. Tim slipped his mask back on now that he was out of the public’s eye. He looked around, he’d been here once with Bruce and they’d spent the entire day learning about plants. In Bruce’s defense it was technically Robin training, the more that Tim learned about plants the safer it was for him to fight Ivy. It made sense that she would set up camp here, but Tim couldn’t help but see the cliché-ness of it.

“Yooo hooo. Ivy? Anyone home?” Tim called. He walked through the rows of plants. Here were a bunch of lilies, water and non, some roses, some different type of palms…

Something wrapped around Tim’s leg. Tim tugged on the vine gently. This climber had no fruit or flowers on it, but it did have hand-size green leaves. Tim prayed it wasn’t poisonous and took out a knife from his jacket. He moved towards the vine and the vine shrunk back, as if afraid of the knife. Huh.

“Listen,” Tim told the plant. “I don’t want to hurt you. But if you don’t let go of me, I won’t have a choice.”

The plant stayed there for a second, as if thinking, before retreating. Tim thanked the plant. Ivy had created sentient flora, that was… spectacular! Tim wondered how she did it, when she did it.

“Who are you?” He heard someone purr. And it wasn’t Selina, fancy that.

“Name’s Hood. Red Hood. Pamala, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

“Pamala…”

“Isley? You know, like your name?”

“I know my name, Hood.”

“Can I ask you some questions?” Tim repeated, turning around.

The redheaded eco-terrorist pet one of her plants. “Okay.”

“Harley Quinn. Where is she?”

“Why?”

“I need to ask her something.”

Ivy frowned. “She doesn’t need another man in her life. The last one wasn’t so kind and she still isn’t over him.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why I need her, Isley. I want her to tell me where the Joker is.”

“Why? So you can weird him out with hero-worship? It’s not his style, you know.”

“I thought I was being cryptic, but apparently not well enough.” Tim rolled his eyes behind his mask. “I want to kill the Joker, Ivy. So tell me where the only person who can lead me to him in the world is.”

Ivy chewed her berry-red lips. “You want to kill the Joker?” She asked.

Tim didn’t respond. He just held her gaze.

Those rose-colored lips curled into a grin and seemed only a little too insane for Tim’s taste. “I haven’t heard from her in a while, but I can tell you where she probably is. She has an apartment from before the Joker. It’s officially abandoned but every now and then she goes back there. 19th and 92nd. Number twenty-two, apartment one.”

“Thank you, Pamala.”

“Hey Hood? Kill him for her. Kill him for me too, but mainly, kill him for her.”

“Isley, I’m killing him for everyone.”

Harley’s apartment was small. Tim hesitantly knocked on the door. The door swung open and a blonde girl in pigtails with a white tank top that professed PENNYWISE IN THE STREETS, HARLEIQUIN IN THE SHEETS poked her head out.

“Harley Quinn, I presume?”

She popped her bubble gum. “That’s Doc-tah Harley Quinn to ya. Who are ya, anywho?” She popped her gum again.

“Sorry.” Right, she used to be a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum before her spiral into mass murder-hood. “Doctor. Can I ask you a question?”

The blonde hummed. “Sure. Is it medical? Want me to look at a wart? ‘Cuz y’know y’have a big red one on your face.” She pointed to Tim’s helmet and Tim crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m looking for the Joker. Do you know where he is?”

Harley shook her head. “Uh-uh. I ain’t with him anymore. We’re broken up for good this time.”

“This time?”

“Yeah. Finally got sick of it, y’know. A gal can only take so much.”

“So you don’t know where he is?”

“Nah.”

“Do you know what he’s planning?”

“Uh-uh.”

“So you’re no help at all.”

Harley popped her gum. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, thanks anyway.”

“Hey! How’d ya find me?”

“Poison Ivy. You know, you should really give her a call. She cares about you a lot.”

Harley smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah. She does. It’s nice, ain’t it? Havin’ someone care.”

Yeah. It probably is.

Tim stared at his list. Five down, two to go. There were two ways to get to every crimelord: get their attention, or do business with them. Doing business with them was actually much harder to manufacture than getting their attention, doing business had to deal with things like money and relied heavily on how much weight your name carried. Tim’s moniker carried no weight yet, only about seven people knew that the Red Hood had been revived.

So getting the Black Mask’s attention it was. Tim heard his stomach growl and he walked into a café to eat and began planning. It took Tim a half hour to find his first Black Mask dealer. It took Tim another hour to find one of Black Mask’s lieutenants. They were all in the hospital by five pm, each with varying degrees of broken bones. Attached to the last one (a dickwad who Tim had found organizing new locations to start selling whatever he was trying to hook the local kids on) was a note addressed to the Black Mask.

9 PM

Crime Alley

When Tim arrived at eight forty five to scope out the alley he was pleasantly surprised to see armed guards strolling the block. So Black Mask wasn’t stupid, well Tim couldn’t win all of his battles. Tim waited silently on the rooftop he was on for another fifteen minutes, a black stretch limousine pulled up at the head of the street and Tim rolled his eyes behind his mask. The man himself stepped out of the car, bodyguards on all four sides. To the right of him stood a man with a clipboard, probably armed to the gills.

Black Mask quickly surveyed the area before crossing his arms over his chest. “You called?” He asked.

Tim swung down from roof the building he stood on, and sighed as every goon in sight pointed a gun at him. “Really?”

No one spoke.

“I feel much safer talking without lethal weapons pointing at my head.”

“I feel much safer talking with lethal weapons pointing at your head.”

Fine. “So it’s going to be that way, huh?”

“Who are you?”

“Red Hood.”

Black Mask seemed disinterested.

“It took me less than half a day to incapacitate your narcotics lieutenants.” Tim added.

“What do you want?”

“Information. What do you know about the Joker?”

“Nothing. I’m new to town.”

“Five years new? I don’t want old stuff. I want now. Where is he? What’s he planning?”

“I told you, I don’t know. And even if I did, why would I tell you?”

“Wow. You are new to town, Mask. Didn’t you know that Gotham villains network?”

Tim was sure that Black Mask was giving him a particularly threatening glare, but he looked kind of idiotic with a Halloween mask on. Then again, this was Gotham.

“I don’t know.” Black Mask repeated, his voice stony.

“Fine. I also came here to warn you, I’ll be operating in Gotham and I will be operating in your turf. If you or any of your men get in my way, I will kill them without a second thought. I won’t be here for long. But I will be here for a while.”

“Why the forewarning, Hood?”

“I’m nice like that.” Black Mask didn’t seem impressed. “That’s it.” Tim said when no one spoke. “You can go home now.”

“Or I could kill you.”

“I took out a good amount of your organization in half a day. Imagine what I could do to targets that I didn’t have to track down and a surplus of guns.”

“But you don’t have the guns.” One of the goons pointed out in a very hostile way.

Tim snorted. “Yet.”

Black Mask nodded, slowly. He held up a hand, and turned to the man to his right with the clipboard. “Let’s go, Mr. Li.”

The man beside Black Mask nodded and nudged his head sharply in the direction of the car, telling the goons to follow.

Huh. Well that was easier than expected.

Tim checked his list over again even though it was unnecessary. He knew who the next and final person on the list was.

He just wasn’t able to admit to himself that he was terrified to look in on him.

Tim found himself at the Manor in what seemed like a time ellipse, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten there, but he knew he had done it. He stood outside the gate awkwardly before he left, he couldn’t do it. Not now. Not yet.

Later.

On his way back to the hotel he was staying at he crossed off the final name.

Tim stared at the bed. He didn’t want to sleep (he never did), after all, he’d slept while he was dead. So he did what he always did when he wanted to ignore a bodily need (even before his death), he opened his computer and began typing.

By the time the sun had come up, Tim had done what had taken years of deductive work the first time around in just the few hours between when he got home and sunrise. Then again, this was his second time through, and he was a better detective now than ever.

He only discovered one name, but that was all he needed. He wasn’t interested in the girl anyway. The name burned in his mind, his mouth itched to say it. To spread the word, because Tim Drake, once again, figured out the identity of the Boy Wonder: Robin. Only this time, it wasn’t Damian Wayne.

Tim allowed himself the smallest of victories.

“Jason Todd.”

#diana writes #diana writes dc #diana writes batman #joke's on you #robin!reversal

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wisdenindia-blog · 7 years

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Despair in Ghazni to delight in Melbourne, Morteza has been through it all

If there was a modern-day adaption of Robert Schuller’s Tough times never last, but tough people do!, there would perhaps be a chapter dedicated to Morteza Ali.

Morteza’s story is straight out of Michael Winterbottom’s In This World – a gut-wrenching but heartwarming documentary about Jamal and Enayatulla, the two Afghanistan refugees who traverse deserts, oceans, mountains and forests, battle thugs and deal with hostile immigration officers to set up a new life in England.

Morteza could well be Jamal or Enayatulla, but there is cricketing angle to his story. He undertook the same journey as Winterbottom’s protagonists in the film, and is now living a better life in Melbourne, pursuing his cricketing dream as well.

***

Cricket came to Afghanistan through refugee camps in Pakistan, where countless Afghans fled the 1979 Soviet invasion of their homeland. After learning the sport in exile, young Afghans brought cricket back with them when the Taliban fell in 2001, and the game has gone from strength to strength ever since.

For Morteza, a 31-year-old allrounder, Muhammad Hussain — his older brother and a Kabul University student who played both cricket and hockey — was the earliest influence. When Muhammad would come home during vacations, he would teach the neighbourhood kids the basics of the sport. When he headed back to the university, Morteza would follow cricket on his “rich neighbour’s television.”

“In the ‘90s, we had heard a lot about Sachin Tendulkar, but personally, I liked Adam Gilchrist a lot because of his attacking brand of cricket,” he tells Wisden India. “Back then, I didn’t even know his name. Shahid Afridi was my favourite too, I used to imitate his shots a lot.

“But no sport was allowed by the Taliban; we used wooden broomsticks as bats and plastic balls.”

He was in his mid-teens when Morteza lost his entire family – father, mother, Muhammad and a younger sister – when their house in Ghazni in the south-east province of Afghanistan was hit during a Taliban mortar attack in 2001. Morteza survived as he was helping his uncle at his grocery store a few miles away. “My uncle didn’t even tell me that I’d lost my whole family, he just asked me to leave the country as the war had intensified,” he recalls.

His uncle arranged his exit with the help of a human transporter. Morteza left Kabul in June 2001, and reached England a year and five days later, in July 2002. Morteza says he walked to Oxford, but anyone who’s watched Winterbottom’s documentary would know of the torture the refugees have to endure.

Morteza and other refugees lived in sub-human conditions in Pakistan camps, battled the Kurdish mafia, braved sub-zero temperatures in Russia and Ukraine, were held hostage by the Czech underworld, and were in and out of military and police custody in Ukraine, Austria, France and Germany.

“Throughout my life, there were people who surprised me. They helped me without seeing my religion, race or background. Although life took a lot from me, it gave me some unbelievable people. It’s my time to give back in whatever little way I can.”

To escape the army and border police, they would walk and hitchhike after dark, avoiding villages, and resting in the forests and mountains during the day. Even 15 years on, as he looks at back the journey, Morteza remembers every minute, painful detail, pausing between words to retain his composure. He recalls a particularly harrowing time in Ukrainian military custody, where he spent almost five months.

“It was peak winter in Ukraine, it was snowing a lot. We were dumped in a hall without any blankets and just had a layer of clothing on us. Our survival was down to one bottle of water and a meal, if you could call it that, a day. The ‘meal’ we got was half a slice of mouldy bread. We were allowed only one loo break in a day.

“By night, we would end up eating our nails and swallowing our saliva; psychologically it helped get over the hunger. I had become so frail, just skin and bones, I couldn’t even stand.

“The hall had huge windows; when the sun came out, I would just crawl to that end of the hall, and roll back again to the other side at night.”

Having overcome near-death experiences, Morteza made it to Oxford, where the City Council social services took him under their wing. But his joy was short-lived. He got in touch with his uncle back home, who finally broke the tragic news of his family’s fate.

The pain in the aftermath of custodial torture lingered long, but not as long as the pain of realising that he had lost his parents and siblings.

***

During the camps in his clubs, Morteza Ali interacted with many former players who had brief coaching stints. © Morteza Ali

Cricket was not just Morteza’s hobby; it was his escape. It was a way to get over his troubled past; it was an answer to cope with the life in a new country, and an uncertain future. Even before he started his formal education in Oxford, Morteza started playing cricket with an Afghan youngster whom he met at an English class.

“It was the first time I’d seen a hard ball,” he recalls. “I didn’t have any gear. The English kids were really friendly, one of them let me borrow his old cricket gear and shoes. I didn’t even know how to put the pads on, the bat was a bit too heavy for me.

“I would try to hit every ball. Those kids used to laugh at me, because in 2002 there were no T20s in England. They would just ask everyone to play straight, but it took me a while to get used to those proper cricketing shots.”

Back home in Ghazni, Morteza had never been to school. He helped his father, a shepherd who also sold milk. Social services provided him accommodation and even enrolled him in the community school. The first few years were tough, Morteza found it extremely difficult to understand the curriculum, the inability to speak or understand English just compounded his woes.

“In the ‘90s, we had heard a lot about Sachin Tendulkar, but personally, I liked Adam Gilchrist a lot because of his attacking brand of cricket. Back then, I didn’t even know his name.”

It was around this time that Morteza met Roger Mitty, who ran the Cumnor Cricket Club in Oxfordshire. Roger raised Morteza as his foster son, providing extra language classes and tuitions for grammar, and early lessons in cricket. “He never made me feel like I had lost my family,” Morteza reminisces.

Easing into his new life, Morteza juggled ‘A’ levels and cricket with a lot of support from Mitty. He started his career with Mitty’s Cumnor CC and went on to represent Oxford University CC, Oxford CC and London County CC, and West Indian Cavieliers in the Nottinghamshire Premier League.

As a part of Oxford CC, Morteza, who used to bat at No. 6 (he’s an opener now) and bowled medium pace, even featured in a three-day first-class match in 2009, but never got a chance to bat or bowl in the game.

At Cavieliers, Morteza met Saqlain Mushtaq, who has been one of the biggest influences in his evolution as an allrounder. “Earlier, I would just go in to bat or bowl without any plan,” he says. “But after watching him bowl, I realised how to set up batsmen; he treated it like a game of chess. He thinks a lot, he would set up the batmen in the first three balls, he also placed me at short-leg while fielding, which was very scary.”

Steve Waugh was so moved by Morteza Ali’s story that he sent him a signed copy of his autobiography via mail. © Morteza Ali

It also helped that Usman Afzaal, the former England batsman, was never short of batting advice. During the camps in his clubs, Morteza interacted with many former players who had brief coaching stints, including Andy Flower, Gary Kirsten, Rashid Latif, Kabir Khan and Neil Burns, the former Essex and Leicestershire wicketkeeper. But it is an interaction with Steve Waugh that remains special for him.

“He was very tired after a long flight from Australia, but still made it to our camp in Nottinghamshire and gave us batting tips. It was around the same time when his autobiography had released, so he got a few signed copies along and distributed them among the players in the camp.

“By the time it was my turn, all the copies were over. Burns introduced us and told him about my past, Waugh was so moved that he took down my address and promised to send me a signed copy. I had never expected him to remember me, but a few weeks later, I was surprised to find a signed copy of Out of my comfort zone in my mail.”

Although he missed his family and home, Morteza had finally made peace with reality. Pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Business and Finance from the Oxford Brookes University and cricket kept him busy. Things were finally looking bright after many years.

And then disaster struck.

Morteza was set to be deported following a change in visa rules. Mitty published Morteza’s situation in the Cumnor CC monthly magazine, but without enough funds, there was little hope. Help came from an unlikely quarter. A retired barrister, who used to watch Morteza play at the club daily, came to their rescue. His daughter, Gaenor Bruce, a renowned immigration solicitor from Manchester, took up his case pro bono, and won.

Recession hit the United Kingdom in 2008 and Morteza couldn’t find a job after graduation. He took up odd jobs and started working as a driver. In two years, he had saved enough to visit his uncle back home. However, Afghanistan was still grappling with terrorism threats, and he was advised against the visit.

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Morteza Ali joined the Hazara Cricket Club as a captain and coach, and since has been promoting cricket in Melbourne’s Afghan community. © Morteza Ali

A few of Morteza’s friends from Afghanistan who had migrated to Australia invited him over for a break. A huge Afghan and Indian migrant population in Melbourne fuelled the weekend community cricket clubs across the city, and Morteza immediately felt at home.

With the employment situation in England still grim, Morteza moved to Melbourne in 2012 and started working as a delivery man with Australia Post. He joined the Hazara Cricket Club as a captain and coach, and since has been promoting cricket in Melbourne’s Afghan community.

Most recently, he led the side to the final of the Melbourne Renegades Champions League – a tournament between six teams of players divided into countries of their origin. Afghanistan ended up losing to India, but Morteza is happy with their efforts.

“I had never expected him (Steve Waugh) to remember me, but a few weeks later, I was surprised to find a signed copy of Out of my comfort zone in my mail.”

“Most of my Aghani friends here are traders or painters, they are really passionate about cricket but never had any formal coaching. They would always end up losing in different competitions.

“We have come a long way from being called the Lagaanteam to being one of most respected amateur cricket clubs in Melbourne,” he gushes. “We practice on Wednesdays and Fridays in the afternoon after work, and matches are held during the weekends. We’ve won tournaments not just in Victoria, but also Shepparton, Sydney and other cities.”

Fifteen years ago, Morteza would never have imagined cricket becoming such a huge part of his life. He has a Level 2 coaching certificate from the UK and is currently in touch with Usman Khan, Hong Kong’s assistant coach, for further certifications in the role.

Despite what he has been through, Morteza says he’s grateful to have had such a great support system. He vows to do his part to help future dreams in cricket and beyond come true within his community.

“Throughout my life, there were people who surprised me. They helped me without seeing my religion, race or background. Although life took a lot from me, it gave me some unbelievable people like Roger Mitty, Neil Burns, Rob Wilson (a former club cricketer in Victoria), Mrs Bruce; without them, I would have been just another refugee, lost in a new country.

“It’s my time to give back in whatever little way I can. I’m trying to do my bit through Hazara CC.”

Morteza has never been to Ghazni since fleeing in 2001. He’s in touch with his extended family back home who, like his friends in Oxford and Melbourne, have coaxed him into penning his inspiring journey. “The autobiography is shaping up well,” he informs.

He could probably take a leaf out of Schuller’s bestseller and call the first chapter Tough times never last.

#Afghanistan Cumnor Cricket Club Morteza Ali Muhammad Hussain Roger Mitty Steve Waugh

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