Hey, guys!
If you've been reading BlueJay and Robin, I hope this helps characterize BlueJay a bit more. This goes before the prologue, and the next (and last) chapter will chronologically occur after chapter 1. Enjoy!
I don't own YJ
My name is BlueJay. My name was Meg Ellen Cartier. But that name is behind me. I'm not that person anymore. I was given this notebook for my personal use. So I thought I would get some things off my chest.
Meg Cartier. Who I used to be. My dad named me Meg for a girlfriend of his back in high school. My dad never was straight, and after my mom died, things just got worse. I'm pretty sure what my dad did to me would be classified as 'abuse' and if I told proper authorities, I would have been out of there a lot sooner. But in Gotham City, there were no real proper authorities to tell.
Like I said, my dad abused me. It wasn't that bad. Mostly just belt-beatings whenever he came home drunk. The scars on my back are almost faded. But the sound of leather flying through the air in any fashion still freaks me out. Mental scar, I guess. I went to public school, but taught myself at home for the most part. I got picked on a lot at school, and sometimes things got physical. That's where I learned to fight in the first place. But for the most part, I studied at home between my return home from school and my dad's return home from wherever he got his drinks.
One night, it just became too much. I was nine. My dad came home way later than usual. I had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, grateful for the sleep I had instead of beatings that night. For some reason, my dad was furious. He threw me out of the chair, and I struggled to gain footing. I had begun to try and fight back recently, although it didn't really help. I managed to land a punch on my dad's nose. I heard it crack beneath my fist. My fist hurt a lot, but for a few moments I was satisfied with myself. But the next thing I knew, I was flying through the air and I hit the wall. The wind was knocked out of me, and before I caught my breath, my dad knocked me out with a ceramic coffee mug. I woke up early the next morning and had one thought- I had to get out of there. I packed my books, hairbrush, toothbrush, a change of clothes and sunglasses. And I left.
But that doesn't mean that general conditions improved, not in the slightest. Gotham is a horrible city, full of people who distrust one another too much (although they have very good reason for doing so). They wouldn't lend a hand to yet another orphan on the street. No one bothered to try and put me in an orphanage or correctional facility. It was me and the street. I turned ten. Eleven. It had been two years. Still, no one bothered to help. But my dad didn't seem to be looking for me either, so that was one less thing for me to keep up-to-date on. I fought a constant battle for survival. On the streets of Gotham, I had to be constantly aware of my location. I didn't ever want to get caught in Crime Alley, or 'snooping around' where all the relatively rich people live.
The night I met my saviors. I still shudder at the memory. I was scampering home, clutching a handful of food I managed to salvage from… where I got the food is unimportant. But I was trying to remember how to get the abandoned department store I currently called home without hitting Crime Alley. Half of my mind, however, was focused on how I would ration out my bit of food, and that thought took over my concentration. The next thing I knew, I heard a low, threatening growl, and realized that I was on Crime Alley. A tall, gruff man was threatening a shorter man with a baseball bat, telling him to empty his pockets. I tried to back away silently, but tripped and fell. The man turned to me, knocked the shorter guy unconscious, and advanced, brandishing the bat in a threatening manner. "What's in the bag, girlie?" he asked. "Food," I managed to whisper. "What's that, girlie?" the man growled. "This bat's for hitting, not catching you know." "Lay off her!" a voice shouted. The man looked up, and I managed to punch him once. The man growled again and threw me aside, turning to see who had spoken. Robin and Batman, the Caped Crusaders, stood beside each other, anticipating the man's next move. I'd only heard of them before that, but my awe had to be delayed, because I had dropped my food. I picked it up and started to dash away, but the man grabbed me and held me close to him with one arm, pointing the bat at the Dark Knight and his partner with the other. I'd had enough experience with smaller offenders on the less rough side of Gotham, and had taught myself some self-defense by then. I kicked my assailant squarely on the kneecap and as he crumbled, I turned and punched his face. But Robin had the man tied up before I could blink. I began to run in the opposite direction of the Boy Wonder, and found myself in the face of the Dark Knight.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm…" I tried to answer. Robin walked up behind me.
"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" he asked me.
"Taught myself," I mumbled.
Robin tried to ask another question, but Batman cut him off with a question of his own. "Where do you live? Robin could spare the time to take you home."
"I don't live anywhere," I said. "My stuff is at an abandoned store two blocks over."
Batman didn't seem surprised. "What time is it?" he asked Robin.
"2:30" was the reply. "We'll call it a night," announced Batman, as if that concerned me. I walked away, leaving the Dynamic Duo talking. I got my things back in order at the department store, and prepared to move out again. As I turned to leave, I found Robin lounging across a cardboard box, and Batman standing behind him, arms crossed. "We're not here to kidnap you or anything," he informed me. That didn't sound too good. "But we could give you a better place than this," he continued.
"What, did you all start an orphan care business I didn't hear about?" I managed to quip. Batman chuckled, which sounds really strange and out of character, by the way. "No," Batman answered, "we don't usually make this kind of offer. But the skills you displayed out there are impressive. I see potential there, and we could really cultivate that."
"In other words," Robin broke in, "Daddy Bats is impressed." I decided that this was the best option for me, and accepted. The Dynamic Duo took me back to the Batcave, and a new chapter of my life began.
The Batcave was a real upgrade from the street. Batman directed me to a shower, which was really the most amazing thing I'd felt in months. My clothes were somehow clean and mended by the time I was done. There was plenty of warm food for me to eat, and I was stuffed in minutes.
Batman trained me once I was back in shape. He left me in the Batcave for the longest time, but it had no effect on me. While Batman and Robin were gone, I studied. And explored. I found my way up aboveground and found myself in THE Wayne Manor. I managed to find enough information and some of Robin's books without being seen or missed. I was amazed by the wellspring of information in Robin's – or should I say Dick Grayson's- books. When the Dynamic Duo got back from patrol one night, I decided to bring my discoveries to light. They finished their routine reports and prepared to go up to the Manor. As they began to leave, I called after them, "Goodnight, Bruce. Goodnight, Dick." Mistake? I'm still not sure. The next thing I knew, I had two Caped Crusaders in my face, obviously asking for an explanation. "I… I found the Manor," I stammered. "I had rules set up for a reason," Batman said slowly. "And one of those rules was stay in the Batcave!" "I didn't know I was out of the Cave until it was obvious I was in the Manor," I said, feigning innocence. "Oh, what harm will it do?" Robin said with a yawn. Batman glared at me intensely before turning and walking upstairs.
Robin stayed behind and looked at the books in my hands. His eyes widened when he saw that it was his pre-calc textbook. "You understand that stuff?" he asked. "Most of it," I replied. "Wow," Robin marveled. "Is Batman mad?" I asked worriedly. Robin smiled, "No more than usual." "Can I be a hero soon?" I asked. "Like you guys?" "Thought you'd never ask," Robin replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs to his room. Robin jumped on his bed and gestured next to him. I sat down. "So, you want to be a hero, huh?" he asked. "Yeah," I nodded. "I do."
"You think you've got what it takes?" he asked. "What does it take?" I asked. Robin rolled his eyes like it was obvious. "Skills, training and a hard will." I nodded, then said, "Will is there, has been all along, but skills and training are a bit underdeveloped…" Robin held up his hand to stop me. "Skills are there, and you've begun training, so, yeah, I think you could start now."
We went through names that were and weren't already taken. We stuck with BlueJay. I had no powers, obviously. But neither did Batman or Robin, so I was fine with that. Robin and I spent the rest of the night coming up with my hero apparel. We came up with, well, a LOT of blue.
The next week (which I had spent as a training intensive), Robin took me upstairs and showed me my official suit. There was a cerulean unitard that covered everything to my wrist and ankles. A gold circle was emblazoned on the center of the chest, and a blue "B" was sewn across it. The unitard had protective padding over my chest and stomach, offering reinforcement to protect my key muscles and vital organs. The unitard was accompanied by navy blue boots and cape. My mask, which resembled Robin's domino mask, was the same color as my suit. I put the mask on and Robin nodded his approval. "It draws out the blue in your eyes," he commented. I could've sworn he blushed a little, but he shrugged it off with a, "Hey, do you want to sparr some?" With that, we ran down to the gym.
The first time Batman let me patrol on my own, Robin babysat me. I was thirteen, he was fourteen. I didn't know it at first. I hacked onto the police radio (Robin had been teaching me hacking on weekends). I finally decided to go to a robbery half a block from Crime Alley, where one cop was constantly channeling for help that wasn't coming. I got there soon enough. I stood in the shadows, assessing the situation. There was the one cop, barricaded in his car with gun drawn. There were four burly men emptying the cash register of a bar and checking for other valuables. There were no patrons, and the bartender lie unconscious on the floor. I snuck without a trace to the cruiser and knocked quietly. The cop ducked, probably thinking that I was another one of the thugs. Just as well. He did what I wanted him to do anyway. I lit a handful of firecrackers, lit them and dropped them in a nearby trashcan. The effect was as desired. Every one of the thieves froze, and I advanced quickly. I took a bottle of liquor off the counter, smashing it over one guy's head.
That man dropped out cold. The other three guys were still looking for the 'gun', and I dropped another thug with a couple of punches. I picked up two of the crowbars that had fallen from the thieves hands. I chucked one of them, but my target ducked and the crowbar shattered two shot glasses. The other thief took a gulp of liquor, slammed the bottle on the counter and lunged for me. I swung the crowbar and the third guy was unconscious. I turned about slowly, looking for the last guy. He grabbed me from behind and pressed a knife to my throat. I tried to kick his kneecap, but he twisted my arm painfully behind me, and I cried out in pain. Then I spun out of his hold, receiving a small gash in the process. The man ripped the crowbar from my hand and swung. I ducked, but he swung again as I crouched down and hit me in the ribs. I prepared to retaliate, but as I stood, the man fell unconscious; the Boy Wonder was behind him, brushing his hands off.
"Nice job," he said. "You got a little sloppy there, but not bad for your first time." I was furious, to say the least. "I had it completely under control!" I spat. "Did Batman tell you to babysit me?!" "No," Robin answered calmly. "He told me to keep an eye on you." "Same thing," I snapped, still furious. "Well, Batman is almost done for tonight, let's get these guys taken care of, then we'll head back to the cave and take care of that cut," he said. I reached up and felt the warm, but slow flow of blood seeping from the cut on my neck.
We tied up the guys and dumped them in the back of the cop car. The cop seemed to feel a little bad seeing my cut, but thanked us and as soon as he thought we were gone, radioed his friends to tell about BlueJay, the new hero in Gotham. I glowed with pride, and Robin gave me a thumbs up. Then we jogged back to the cave together.
Batman talked with Robin briefly when we got back. Then Batman took me to the med room, where he proceeded to take stuff out for my cut. "Well?" I finally dared to ask. "Good job," Batman said. "Robin tells me you took care of 75% of a bar brawl." "I think I deserve somewhere around 90% of the credit, because I did have the last guy taken care of," I said in reply. Batman chuckled and said, "85% You did get hurt." He poured some isopropyl alcohol onto a cotton ball. "I didn't get hu- ow!" I said as he pressed the cotton ball on the cut. Batman chuckled again and finished up before sending me to bed.
I moved up to the Manor, but Bruce never officially adopted me or anything. I made it clear to Bruce that I had taken care of myself for two years on the streets, and I would continue to do so, just at the Wayne Manor now. Maybe it was also that I wasn't entirely ready to accept a new family, or maybe a stubborn self-reliance that I'd developed over the years. Regardless, Batman set some rules and guidelines for me to follow, and I followed most of them. Most of the time.
Most of the rules he made were simple, don't leave the Manor without permission, be a law-abiding citizen, etc. But one of his rules, never interact/engage with escaped convicts from Arkham without him, was rather pointless to me. Robin was subject to this rule too, and both of us hated having to abide by it, but we did. We thought it was ridiculous, if Batman couldn't trust us to handle escaped cons, what could he trust us with? But I still made a point to contact Batman anytime I came across cons. I hated waiting for Batman to show up while criminals were pulling of heists, robberies, vandalism, or assaults, but somehow he managed to arrive before they got away.
One time, though, two escaped criminals from Arkham were recognized, and a cop tried to arrest them. That didn't work out too well. The cons started to beat up the cop. I radioed Batman as soon as I showed up. Batman was occupied with Two-Face, and I restlessly waited in the shadows. After twenty minutes, and still no Batman, it became obvious that the guys would kill the cop if I didn't actively do something. Robin radioed me and asked if I needed help. "I'm going in," I told him. "I can be there soon and help!" Robin offered. "No," I answered. "The last thing we need is Batman mad at both of us." With that, I dropped my comms to the ground and threw myself into the thick of things.
Both of the convicts stopped what they were doing and turned on me. The cop fell unconscious to the floor, so I didn't get any help from him. The first guy lunged at me, but I somersaulted beneath him and came up fast, punching the other guy in the face. I threw another punch, but my opponent caught my fist. Just as well. I threw myself over his shoulder, pulling his arm with me. He landed on the ground with a thud. The second guy came at me and punched me across my face. I reeled back for a second, taking in the punch's severity. Then I came back at him with a roundhouse kick, effectively knocking him to the ground. I knocked him out with a couple of swift punches, and then turned to face the first guy. I dodged the convict's first punches. Then the con faked a punch, but I fell for it and ducked. The guy kicked me in the gut as I ducked and I doubled over. The criminal stood over me, growling. I sprang up suddenly, and knocked the guy out with a punch.
My fists and head were throbbing terribly, but I tied up the cons and frisked them for weapons. I came up with a knife and metal club. Next I did basic first aid on the cop. I was just finishing up when the Dark Knight showed up. Furious.
"I believe I told you NOT to engage with anyone from Arkham," Batman growled. I stood my ground. "Well, I wouldn't have, either, if it didn't seem like someone was going to get killed if I didn't do something." I received a vicious Batglare. "You could have been the one killed, you know. You're not capable of handling escaped cons on your own." Ouch. That hurt. "Is that what you think?" I asked in quiet anger. "Yes," Batman said, then seemed to recognize the insult, "I mean…" "Is this what it looks like to you?!" I shouted angrily, gesturing to the two criminals that were tied up at my feet. "Have you seen yourself?" Batman asked incredulously. "I'm not what's important right now! I'm 80% sure that this guy," I gestured to the cop, "needs a hospital right now." Batman nodded curtly and took the cop to the nearest hospital. When he returned, we took care of the cons and returned to the cave.
Robin seemed pretty shocked by how beat up I was. Batman simply told him that I got everything taken care of in the end, although he seemed a bit grudging as he said it. I later gave Robin the play-by-play. He seemed really impressed that I bothered arguing with Batman. I try not to argue with Batman, but I'm not afraid to either.
Apparently, Robin and I weren't the only young heroes in the world. Kid Flash (or Wally) and Aqualad (or Kaldur) were friends of Robin, and on an unsanctioned mission, rescued Superboy (Connor) from this freak genetics lab. They sort of formed this team, and Miss Martian (or M'gann) and Artemis (she's Artemis as a civvie too) joined. Batman assigned missions to them, and I patrolled Gotham for a little bit, before Batman suggest I join as well. It's great having more friends than Batman, Robin and Alfred (although their great too).
The Christmas I was fourteen, I attended a party Bruce Wayne threw for publicity matters. I didn't have much of a choice, but Robin and I enjoyed trying to get out of them. Tons of the wealthy of Gotham had come. Dinner time approached, and we all gathered in the great dining hall. After fifteen minutes of waiting, Bruce asked me to go to the kitchen and see if Alfred needed help. I ran down to the kitchen, opened the door and found Alfred lying on the ground, face first. I ran as fast as I could back to Bruce and told him to hurry. Robin and Bruce ran down almost faster than I thought possible, and when I caught up with them in the kitchen, found Bruce frantically searching for a pulse. Bruce was trying not to show it, but I saw the tears beginning to pool in his eyes. Robin took me by the hand and led me upstairs. We apologized to all the guests, and managed to get them all to leave in a seemly amount of time. When we returned to the kitchen, Bruce was staring blankly ahead, clutching Alfred's limp hand.
The funeral was a dreary event. Everything hit Bruce the hardest. Robin was having a difficult time staying 'traught' as he put it. I was upset, of course, but was also worried about Robin and Bruce even more. I was especially worried about the hero side of the Dynamic Duo. In fact, at one point, I took matters into my own hands. I went to Robin's room one evening a few days after the funeral, knowing that he would be preparing to patrol. He opened the door. "Batman wanted me to tell you that he and I have patrol covered. You can take the night off," I told him. "You both sure?" he asked. I nodded, and he went back into his room. Then I went to Bruce's office and made the same offer. He seemed a bit relieved, and was completely oblivious to the fact that I was going to be patrolling alone.
Everything went okay, it was a normal night. Stop a robbery here. Prevent an assault there. The last thing I took care of was a fight that broke out in one of the many bars in Gotham. Two police officers were there, and they were trying their best to put an end to it. But there were only two cops helping, and seven people were involved. It took a long time to get it under control. One of the men had a knife out, and I earned a large cut up my forearm in the thick of things. I was on enough adrenaline that it didn't affect me immediately, but as soon as everything was taken care of and I went back to the Cave, it was obvious that this wound was rather severe. In the med room, I took out stuff to clean and patch up my arm. I got out a suture and medical thread, but my hands kept shaking and I couldn't thread the suture. I passed out, presumably from a combination of blood loss and exhaustion. When I came to, Batman was stitching up my arm with a face that showed the conflicting emotions of concern and anger. Robin was behind me, obviously trying to be helpful without getting in Batman's way. "What did you think you were doing?" Batman asked me. "I thought I was helping. Neither of you are in any condition to be patrolling."
"Obviously, neither are you," he said, except this time it was laced with concern, not insult. "I'm fine," I protested, but he had Robin take me upstairs, get a snack, and go to bed. "You shouldn't have done that," Robin chastised me gently. "Yes, I should have. Someone needed to patrol Gotham, and you and Batman weren't up to it," I said. "You're the one with stitches up your arm," he reminded me. I sighed, and we left it at that.
After a while, it became obvious that the Batman side of Bruce Wayne wasn't holding up too well. The ominous Head of the Justice League, whose identity is known only to the League itself, (A/N I made the head up…) seemed to recognize this and decided that the best course of action was to give Batman work to distract him from his grief, as well as try to get him away from Wayne Manor. It was decided that Bruce Wayne would be said to have gone on an elongated business trip abroad, and we packed ourselves up and moved to an abandoned, isolated school facility in woodsy North Carolina. It was remote, and a couple hundred miles from Mount Justice (A/N I'm not really sure where Mt. Justice is, but bear with me). Zeta tubes were built in, so we could still patrol Gotham. There was a massive gym for training and a handful of classrooms and labs. A minimal staff was hired for educational classes and the infirmary that was set up. The staff never left; they were impersonal and in my opinion, kind of half-dead. I mean, they practically gave up whatever they did before to teach/take care of teenagers. Sure, teenagers in training, but teenagers nonetheless.
It was kind of nice. Around the holidays, everyone would leave to be with their families, and Batman, Robin and I would hang around with the staff. When school was 'in session,' we would train for three or so hours and have educational classes for about four hours, five or six days out of the week. We went on missions occasionally, and I patrolled Gotham with Robin every other night. It was rhythmic, to say the least.
The Head had made a few (in my opinion) stupid rules:
Do whatever Batman says (Duh, he's BATMAN!)
Don't assault the staff (Who would?)
Don't cheat on anything (Who could?)
You all are a team, so you will have to be able to cooperate with one another. But no 'relationships.' They cloud judgment and cause favoritism.
That last rule made no sense to anyone really. Batman was lax on it, and I can see why. It's so stupid! M'gann and Superboy like each other, and I suspect that Artemis and Wally feel the same way, although they bicker all the time. And I was starting to like Robin, as in, LIKE like him. I could guess that he was feeling the same way towards me. It was kind of cool, keeping it a secret.
Well, I turned fifteen. And 'like' turned into love. I'm sure Batman had no idea what kind of level our relationship was escalating to. I suspect he thinks that we're just better friends with each other than everyone else due to the longer extent of our acquaintance. It was so much fun, keeping secrets from the dark knight. Missions with the team became more frequented.
I turned sixteen. A couple of weeks ago, Robin completely surprised me. HE ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM! To be honest, I'd been thinking about it for a while, but we never talked about it. I said yes, wholeheartedly. It's going to be so hard to keep this from Batman, but if he finds out, he'll tell the League, and that means the Head. And the Head will punish us one way or another, I'm sure. So we're waiting until we get out of the Academy. We're still trying to decide if we'll join the League and continue to keep ourselves under wraps, or if we'll become our own heroes. But I'm so happy, so giddy, so hopeful.
I hope that helped! Please Review!