Author Note: I own nothing but the plot line and a few extras. Main character has many complicated parts of her backstory, so please stay with me.
Tony Dartion, head of the Dartion family, mass murderer, rapist, pedophile, runs a gang, and I have been payed ten grand. With their target in the center of the cross-hairs, the hidden sniper slowly squeezed the trigger, sent a bullet through a window, and into the forty year-olds' heart. The moment the bullet left the barrel the assassin knew it was going to hit its' mark and began packing the silenced gun into a purple backpack.
A twelve year-old girl with raven hair turned into an alley, scaled a ten-foot brick wall and flipped onto the fire escape of the neighboring building. The kid climbed into a broken, third-story window of an abandoned apartment and proceeded to hide her backpack in the old fridge. Sighing, she pulled off her boots and flopped onto the pile of blankets she called a bed, falling asleep instantly.
Early the next morning, she was woken by the sound of her computer receiving an e-mail. She untangled herself from her 'bed' and stumbled over to the device. One new message was waiting for her and she hesitantly opened it. It was a job offering 100 grand to kill Bruce Wayne by the end of his Christmas Charity Event, December 8th, tomorrow.
She responded with "Money first. Half before and half after the hit. I expect payment less than two days after the hit." The sender replied seconds later. "Deal. Payment method?" The girl thought about it for a moment before sending back. "Meet my agent behind the Thomas Wayne clock tower at six P. M. Bring the money, don't be late."
She read the reply and closed the laptop. Sighing, the girl stretched and shuffled over to her kitchen. After opening four empty cabinets, she realized that she would have to go shopping and groaned. "Just another day in the life of Rachel Grayson; assassin, world-class acrobat, and sad orphan girl."
The entire month of December in Gotham was snowy, busy and just plain annoying. Christmas shoppers were rushing to buy gifts, traffic was backed up by the snow and shop owners were on the lookout for thieves even more so than usual. The good thing about being an assassin, was that the people who hire you are loaded and you could buy a car with one payment.
Rachel kept her hands in her pockets as she walked down the sidewalk, avoiding eye-contact and staying away from alleys. She knew she looked suspicious and honestly didn't care; she was tired, hungry and running low on poison. The poison isn't for what you would think.
When Rachel was little, she had foolishly followed a man when he asked if she wanted a free kitten and ended up getting kidnapped for a month. During that month, she was force-fed a single vile of poison every day and eventually it stopped working. Her body had gotten used to it and she now needed it to continue living.
She wasn't looking where she was going and walked into the road, too lost in thought to notice the car that had just turned the corner. Squealing breaks, a loud thud, and the car suddenly jerking to a stop caused Bruce to drop the newspaper he had been reading. Looking at Alfred, he saw his panicked butler fumbling with his seatbelt and eventually exiting the car. "Sir, I am afraid I have hit someone with the car."
Nodding, Bruce followed the older man to the front of the car and saw a child, sprawled across the icy road, a few feet away. Bruce raced over to their limp form, knelt and gently rolled them onto their back. "Can you hear me? Hello?" A moan greeted him and he let out the breath he was holding.
In the headlights, bleary blue eyes squinted up into the billionaire's face and mumbled something unintelligible before passing out. Bruce made sure she was breathing, carefully lifted the unconscious child into his arms and walked back to the vehicle. "Alfred, call Leslie and tell her what happened, I will wait in the car."
Fifteen minutes later, Leslie exited the room with the girl in it and softly closed the door. "How is she?" Bruce asked quietly. "Got a minor concussion, a few scrapes and a bruised hip; but she'll be fine with some rest. You're late for work, I will find her parents and get her home safely." The raven haired man raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
The doctor nodded with a smile and the two men left. Turning back to the room she just left, Leslie went back inside and stopped next to the bed. What she hadn't told Bruce was that during her examination, she discovered scars and even a stitched gash. The scars varied in stages and some were obviously years old, but the gash from her left shoulder to her left hip was what had Leslie crying.
The stitches weren't professional, some had ripped during her meeting with the car and the wound was surprisingly not infected yet. Setting to work, the woman administered anesthesia and began removing the stitches. Once the thick string was gone, she inspected the wound, cleaned it, closed it back up with fresh stitches and wrapped the girl's entire chest, stomach and left shoulder in gauze.
Leslie had been unsure how much anesthesia to use on the young girl and now she was regretting using such a small dose. One moment the doctor had just secured the clip to hold the gauze in place and the next, she was on the floor with two tiny, but strong hands wrapped around her throat. Struggling did nothing to deter her assailant and she wasn't getting the required amount of oxygen; a whispered 'sorry' was the last thing she heard before passing out.
Rachel was no stranger to pain and it often grounded her to reality. So when she woke up on a hospital bed with a lady redoing her half-decent stitching, she was confused. Normally after getting hit by a car and passing out, she would wake up to burly men with guns and not, kind-faced doctors fixing her.
Not wanting to scare the lady who was holding a needle, Rachel decided to 'wake up' after the doctor finished and then disappear. She did just that, the gauze was secured and the woman was unconscious. Standing in a dark-ish room with no shirt on in winter was a weird, but not unheard of scenario in her line of business.
Rachel put her shirt, coat, boots, gloves and beanie back on, moved the lady to the bed she had just been on and covered her with a blanket(only to her chin, letting her breathe but keeping her warm). Right before she exited, Rachel remembered that her parents always told her to be polite and left a note (saying she was grateful for the help, yet sorry for attacking her) in the doctor's limp hand.
Looking at the time, Rachel realized it was barely eight o'clock and she hadn't done her shopping yet. Upon exiting the lobby of the small, free clinic, Rachel noticed a distinct lack of decoration. Smiling to herself, she mentally made a shopping list on the way to the supermarket and counted the money in her pocket.
Acting like a child doing shopping for her mother, twelve year old Rachel skipped and smiled as she pushed her cart down the isles. Her cart was full of: food, ornaments, wrapping paper, tape, Christmas lights, tinsel, candy canes, ribbon, some Christmas stockings, a few bags of candy and small trinkets, a handful of extension cords, a tree skirt, and finally, a 5 foot tall Christmas tree. Since the basket was so full, Rachel had to drag the boxed tree behind her while pushing the cart.
Realizing she didn't have a way of getting all of the stuff to its' destination when she got to the register, she said she forgot something and ran off, coming back with the biggest, 'little red wagon' they had. Workers cooed and smiled when she waved at them, letting them believe she was an innocent child. It ended up being $375.89 and the clerks' eyes widened as Rachel handed her $450, saying the rest was for her and her family.
Several workers came over and helped Rachel get the tree and other purchases into her wagon. She smiled and thanked them before pulling the wagon out of the store and down the street. People moved out of her way as she hauled her load towards the clinic and she said 'Merry Christmas!' to everyone she passed, with a smile.
In the time she had been gone, a couple of people were waiting in the lobby to be treated or hear news on a loved one and a grin spread across Rachel's face. Pushing open the doors, the girl walked backwards into the lobby and brought the wagon to the center of the room. Ignoring the stares, Rachel began unpacking the tree and putting it together with a smile.
When she got to the top part of the tree and couldn't reach it, she walked over to an older man and asked him for help. "Hey mister, can you help me? I can't reach it." He nodded with a smile and put the top of the tree on. Next, she handed him a package of tinsel and asked him to wrap it around the tree.
Opening the boxes of ornaments, she went to each person and had them pick some to put on the tree. Soon, everyone was decorating the tree with ornaments and candy canes and laughing and smiling. While they were doing that, Rachel found a work schedule and wrote each name on a stocking, putting them up in a row on a wall.
The twelve year old put a handful of candy and trinkets into each stocking before passing the rest out to the people decorating the fake tree. The tinsel, lights and candy canes went around the room, the skirt went under the tree and soon the wagon was empty of everything but the: wrapping paper, food, tape, and ribbon. Rachel put all the remaining items in a bag, threw away the trash, moved the tree box to a supply room and gave the brand new wagon to a mother of two toddlers.
The woman tried to refuse but Rachel was insistent and the mother finally accepted, giving Rachel a hug before the twelve year old left the decorated clinic with her bag of goods. She got back to her run down apartment around twelve, ate lunch, changed clothes and hid her stuff in the cabinets. Grabbing her backpack and exiting her home, Rachel headed towards her dealer's place.
By the time she got to the place and bought a small supply of poison, it was two o'clock. Rachel went to a convenience store a bought a couple of bottled drinks and a candy bar. To kill some time, she went to the park, climbed a tree and mixed a small vile of poison into a bottle of tea. Drinking her special tea and eating her candy bar, Rachel enjoyed the snowy weather.