Thanks to Kathy for the beta!
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Louis L'Amour Was Right
"There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning." (Louis L'Amour)
She'd found the gray T-shirt with its knock-off imitation bat-logo in one of the bags next to the Goodwill donation bin. She'd been new to the streets then—still too uncomfortable to go into the Goodwill store itself. But when the drop-off bins were full to overflowing, folks often dropped off their used clothing alongside them. She'd helped herself to some of that surplus.
At first she wore the shirt for confidence, when she stood panhandling outside Wireless City Movie Theatre. She had an idea that if she made it to Gotham, maybe Batman would see her wearing the shirt, and he'd be so impressed, he'd pick her to be the new Batgirl. Sure, it was stupid. So what? It gave her something to work for. And it wasn't like reality had any huge attraction these days.
She hadn't tried to teleport since the fire. What was the point? It was fun, sure, but when the chips were down, it hadn't let her save her mother or brother. So what good was it, really?
Things hadn't really come together for her until she was tramping through Centennial park a few nights into November. She'd found the cape and cowl lying on the grass—doubtless tossed away by some trick-or-treater who probably got a new costume every Hallowe'en. She picked them up carefully, almost reverently. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled the cowl over her own head. It felt like a good fit. She was debating whether to see if she could find a mirror somewhere when she heard the scream.
If she hadn't recognized the terrified victim, she probably would've looked away. But for the last couple of weeks, he'd been passing by her spot every single day. And every single day, he'd given her a deli sandwich, a five-dollar bill, and a smile. She'd started looking forward to that smile. The youth didn't deserve this.
Her breath caught. There were four of them. And she was one weak, skinny street kid in a bat-shirt. But she could teleport. She reached into a nearby garbage can and pulled out a glass Soder bottle. If it didn't work, she could always 'port out. The youth they were attacking wouldn't be so lucky, though. And she wouldn't be able to take him off with her.
Charlie set her jaw. It was now or never. She took a deep breath, slapped the bottle against the palm of her hand, and charged into the fray. "Darrrrrrrrk Vengeanssss!" She hissed as she materialized. She had no idea from whence that battle cry had sprung, but it felt right.
Startled, the attackers broke and ran. In daylight, they might have laughed. But by night, the symbol on the T-shirt carried a greater credibility. She turned to the young man, who was still staring at her, incredulously. "You okay?" She asked, feeling suddenly shy.
"Um…" He rose shakily to his feet. "Yeah." His eyes grew wide. "You saved my life, Batgirl. Thanks."
She blinked. What had he called…? She wasn't Batgirl! But… but maybe she could be. Superman wasn't around much these days, and decent people still needed saving. She grinned her first real grin since the fire. Alright, then, she decided. Batgirl was back. And so was she…