AN: Wow, just woke up from a four year coma everybody. Came as soon as I could to update, but then I re-read chapter one and couldn't see past the cringe. So you get this now. The next chapter is coming soon I promise. Only three years this time.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not a single thing.
Perspective can be a funny thing.
Mai spent her entire lifetime in Gotham, yet she failed to remember ever gazing upon a view as fine as this: laying spread eagle on nothing but asphalt with a starless night sky hanging above. A sight despised by some, absolutely, but Mai found nothing but comfort from the towering skyscrapers and the warm orange signatures of light pollution they produced. She would never describe herself an optimist. Sometimes life just offered up pleasant surprises, windows of opportunity that let her escape this world of misfortune. But like all other brief peaceful moments in her life, she found herself pulled back down to reality. The batwing rushed past overhead and she closed her eyes hoping to block the memories that flooded back with it.
Two years since she retired. Five, since her life turned to shit.
Mai was once Mallard. She understood a duck was not a threatening persona, but in the grand scheme of things she at least stayed on theme. Besides, she was twelve when she chose the name. No one expects a twelve year old to come up with a good title. Jason had it easy in that aspect. He only had to step into someone else's mantle. No pressure.
She thought retirement was supposed to be easy. A civilian lifestyle to little to keep her content, but she wanted to at least experience some form of normalcy. A department her childhood and adolescence both seriously lacked. Gotham was her home. She could never leave. It was the only reason she enrolled at Gotham University. She understood how ungrateful she sounded. Was she so blinded by privilege not to notice all the children starving on the same city streets? Homeless, with no future prospects outside of addiction and organized crime. She should consider herself lucky. How many street kids got to live in a mansion? With a Butler no less, who ensured they were well fed and looked after. How many orphans got a second chance to have a family.
How many children grew up, well acquainted, with a rogues gallery?
How many stood by helplessly as they watched their best friend become a cripple?
How many had their first love beaten to death with a crowbar?
Very few it turned out.
The city remained unchanged around her, minus the one other person who had been cut off by the maniac driving the blue muscle car. They were crashed into a street sign. A few of the more compassionate cityfolk gathered around, helping the man out of his car and calling for an ambulance. Besides them only a handful of onlookers gathered to check out the scene. The more seasoned Gothamites simply continued on with their business, desensitized to the chaos of the city. High speed chases and car accidents were an everyday norm when you had as many super villains and as much organized crime as Gotham. It appeared as though her daydream episode had lasted only a few brief moments. The adrenaline high from the fall had slowed her perception of time. The flash of a camera snapped her from her daze, a signal for her to get up off her ass as she realized how ridiculous she must look.
She expected her trip home from class to be mundane per usual. What she got instead was a now ruined pair of her favorite jeans, a scratched up motorbike, and a serious case of roadburn. After avoiding a near collision with whatever psycho Batman was chasing she managed to separate herself from her bike. The poor Kawasaki Ninja had seen better days. Years of use had added a fair amount of dings and scratches, completely unavoidable. But the bike, a gift from Alfred many birthdays ago, held deep sentimental value for Mai. The damages from tonight were only cosmetic in nature upon inspection. Nothing important had been effected. Not that this mitigated her guilt in the slightest. With a huff and a bit of effort she pushed the bike upright, mounted and finished her trek home.
The apartment was empty when Mai arrived. Barbara had mentioned dinner with her parents in passing earlier that week. Tonight being one of the rare occasions Jim Gordon did not have to be at the station. There were very few perks to being police commissioner outside of the pay. Barbara owned a majority of the furniture. Mai didn't mind, she enjoyed owning as little as possible. The plants, a handful of DVD's, and a few milk crates full of records, were her few contributions to the apartment. Otherwise she tried to employ a minimalist lifestyle. As if she could afford anything else after she stopped accepting money from Bruce.
She settled in. Dropping her belongings in an organized pile by the door before she shuffled towards the bathroom. She peeled the ruined pants off her leg and tossed them onto the counter with little regard. After a tedious search through their substantial first aid supplies she pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, careful to sanitize the tender spots on her side. The bruises were already beginning to form. She took another look at the condition of her pants. An easy fix with patches, but the universe knows how bad she was with a needle and thread. This would take up a majority of her night she sighed to herself, stealing the sewing kit from Barbara's room before taking a seat at her own desk. Dedicating all of her focus on threading string through the eye of the needle. She jumped when a rhythmic knock sounded from her window, the needle pricked her thumb and she let out a string of curses. She stood and marched over to her window, drawing back the blinds to find none other than Nightwing on her balcony.
"Adult wonder" She greeted. A good amount of time had passed since they last saw each other.
"Wow. That's even funnier than the last sixty time you called me that." He threw an arm around her shoulders and trapped her in a headlock, seizing the opportunity to give his little sister a proper nuggie. He managed to hold the position for a few seconds before Mai elbowed him in the stomach to get away. She gave him a once over.
"What are you smearing all over my floor?" She asked, noticing the black stains on his suit.
"Oh, probably oil. Fought the robot version of Superman basically."
"Right." She accepted the bizarre scenario without a moment's hesitation. A side effect from the insane things she encountered in her odd life. Dick removed his mask, making himself comfortable as he unceremoniously tossed himself onto her unmade bed. He craned an ear toward the wall separating the two bedrooms, listening intently for any noise. Very subtle.
"Don't worry. She's not home." Arms crossed to show her frustration. She didn't know how much longer she could wait for the two to get their shit together. The struggle to maintain a friendship with both parties was at a boiling point. Dick had the common courtesy to at least look guilty, more than she could ever say for Barbara.
"How is she?" He asked in a low voice.
"She's in a fucking wheelchair. Life's not exactly great for her right now."
"What exactly am I supposed to do here?" He gestured wildly with his hands. The stress of the situation putting him out of his element. "I ran out of ideas a long time ago." She took a deep breath.
"Listen, she may put up a tough act, but whenever she sees you her eyes light up. Things are different now, you can't just jump back in expecting things to be exactly the same as where you two left off. The future won't be as great as before, but that still doesn't it won't mean the world to her. " Dick eyed Mai revere. He wondered where she managed to pull this in depth knowledge of relationships from, considering Mai had never officially been a part of one. He loved her like a sister, and valued her insight with high regard. He breathed deeply. Nodding his head to show he understood. They shared a comfortable silence but Mai could sense this visit wasn't just for catching up.
"Why are you really here?" She asked in a more serious tone. Dick could see there was no point in dodging questions and cut straight to the chase.
"He strangled Joker" This neither alarmed nor worried her. She had many fond memories of hurting the psychopath, her favorite involving a body cast. The Joker was the one man who brought out her sadistic side. Mai couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face.
"Sounds like a tuesday."
"No, this was different. Bruce doesn't lose control like that." Dick continued a bit unnerved and surprised by her lack of reaction. A part of her felt endeared by Dicks idealization of Bruce, but he hadn't been around much the past few years. Bruce had become hyper-protective after Jason's death. His presence essentially replaced her shadow and patrols developed into nightmares. She was berated for every mistake no matter how simple. If her form was even a centimeter off she was scolded. "And there's this new guy on the block, he can give him a run for his money on a normal day, but with Bruce unhinged... I don't know."
"The Red Hood?" She asked, taking a stab in the dark. Dick nodded his head surprised she already knew. "He's making waves around here. I don't need spandex to know who he is."
"Is that why you're here? So you can convince me to-"
"-Mai. I know you don't need me to convince you." He interrupted her with the same smug look that had bothered her since the first day they met. But now, the look wasn't what made her upset. It was the fact that she knew he was right. She did not need to be convinced. Years had passed since she was in a fight where her life was actually on the line. Many areas of her body that were once toned with muscle had turned soft. There was slim to little chance she could even still keep pace with the other two. The choice was obvious.
"Debrief me."