The first day on the job, I spent five hours at Wayne Enterprises to overhaul my work there, since Wayne was still trying to hire another assistant to pick up some slack and keep up appearances, before I was to report to Wayne's office packed with my laptop and any necessity I might want for the next few hours.

When I stepped into Wayne's office, I noticed him completely suited up and donning that frightening persona of the dark knight—the one that would make grown men squeal and babies cry.

I fought the urge to glare at him. I couldn't decide if the Brucie or Batman persona was the more pretentious of his two identities. I could tolerate Bruce Wayne, the happy medium of the two, but I fought not to groan when I witnessed the emergence of either end of his personality spectrum.

I still had to act on the note I made months ago to sign the man up for some counselling.

"You'll be going to the watchtower." He didn't greet me.

"What, the Hall of Justice wasn't big enough?" I frowned, crossing my arms.

The one good thing about my relationship with Batman was that I didn't have to put on that Polite front. Batman didn't care, he only liked that I got my job done. Brucie, however, liked appearances.

"It's being occupied as of now." Batman said before motioning me to one of the cabinets in his wall. Placing a palm on the wooden door, a small sound like a computer whirring went off, and then the wall slid open to reveal a small, circular room comprised of metal. I followed Batman into it, warily but dutifully nevertheless.

"Martian Manhunter, we're ready." Batman said suddenly, and I snapped my head towards him in confusion.

Just as I was about to open my mouth, a flash of light overcame my vision. What followed was an odd combination of feelings such as floating, taking a lukewarm shower, and being birthed. Overall, the sensation was just weird.

It only lasted a second before my vision righted itself and I was yet again looking at the Batman, but this time we were in a large, open space decorated like a high-budget, sci-fi thriller. A very modern, metallic and sleek design graced my vision for inspection. However, I was still focused on the fact that I was now sure I knew what it felt like to be birthed.

"I did not enjoy that." I focused on my boss.

"Most people don't." He started making his way off the platform we were on, and I followed his lead with all the grace I could manage after having simulated the feeling of being forced from a womb. I found out later that I had a good amount of grace for someone who was beamed up for the first time. Not a lot, obviously, but a good amount.

Batman lead me quickly to a desk near the platform, circular shaped and cleared of any clutter bar a white com headpiece, a comfortable, white leather computer chair was placed against the desk with care, and a high-grade printer camouflaged as an aesthetically pleasing piece of art.

"This will be your desk." Batman explained. "You will be given mission reports to be filed away, hunt down those who need to finish their mission reports, keep-up with league-specific contacts, and present the itinerary to all those who require one."

"So basically, I'm your eyes, ears, and responsibility." I summarized. "And just so we're on the same page, the itinerary I put together this morning from scraps of knowledge you dared to give me is the itinerary your people are supposed to follow?"

I could practically feel the eyebrow he was raising at me.

"Is there a problem?"

"Just making sure the itinerary I was going to give is the itinerary you wanted." I laid my purse on the desk and pullet out my laptop. "Where will the filing be going once I've got it squared away?"

"I'll have someone show you the room." Batman nodded before showing me his back. "Keep the headpiece on. If I need you, I'll call."

"Understood." I nodded before sitting back behind the desk and setting up my laptop. Putting myself onto the league Wi-Fi was easier than it should have been without knowing the password, but I was sure Batman wouldn't mind. He might even like to know about how easy it was for me to breach a small but vital part of their security.

Once I was into the Wi-Fi, I was able to connect to the printer and print out a stack of copies of the itinerary to give out to those who needed one. As that was finished, I pulled open the spreadsheet Batman had graced me with stating the outstanding mission reports and the ones still needing to be filed. Once that was squared away, I was left to complete some leftover work for Wayne enterprises in the time I was waiting to be given reports.

An hour passed, and I hadn't been contacted. My mood was soaring as I was blazing through the reports and paperwork for Wayne, and it had to be due to the relatively stress-free environment I was now presiding over. It got me thinking, maybe Batman wouldn't be a worse boss than Brucie.

A flash of light caught my attention enough to make me glance up, and on the platform appeared a man clad in green and black, with brown hair and a serious look on his face. He stepped off the platform with an almost practiced confidence, obviously meaning to go the opposite direction than my desk, which was wholly unacceptable.

"Good afternoon, Green Lantern." I greeted politely without looking up from my laptop. The man's footsteps stopped with a jerk before the sound of a slow turn graced my ears. I wordlessly held out a file as I continued with my work for Wayne, waiting for him to come to me. It took a few seconds for the man to register the intent before he made his way to where I was, obviously wary and unsure. "You have three meetings scheduled before the day is out, one of which is to be held in the monitoring womb within the next forty-five minutes."

"Who are you?" He asked, voice deceptively calm.

"You also have three outstanding mission reports." I looked back up at him with a polite smile. "Please complete those soon. The longest outstanding one has been four months missing, and that's just negligent."

"And I'm going to as again, who are you?" The man repeated, loosing patience. I assumed it was because I was an unknown civilian in his place of work that employed the heroes of the world.

The again, all I was doing was shoving paperwork at him, so he could probably deal with it.

"Green Lantern," A calm voice greeted, and my gaze traveled upward. Ah, so there was an observation deck above us. Beautiful, now I felt like a bug under a microscope. Martian Manhunter floated gracefully from the deck down to the lower area, most likely to defuse the situation. "This is Robin Lee. She was hired to work with the league."

"Do we really need a secretary?" The lantern gave me a disbelieving look.

"Probably not." I answered him, earning looks from both heroes. "But I hear it makes life a bit easier. And good afternoon to you, Mr. Manhunter."

I held out a file to him as well that he took gracefully, a eyebrow raised as he looked over the color-coded piece of paper.

"You have two meeting scheduled for today and a three-hour monitor shift," I used the same polite tone I would with Brucie, "and then you're scheduled for a training session in the Hall of Justice by five thirty."

"Thank you, Ms. Lee." The Martian closed the file with a certain grace I was sure only came with being an alien. Very ethereal, but also wholly unattainable. With that, he put a hand to the green lantern's shoulder and lead him away from my desk.

With that squared away, I went back to the paperwork for Wayne. It struck me fifteen minutes later that I was basically doing his job so he could go gallivanting off to save the world, but I also acknowledged that he would probably get ahead on paperwork if he just let me do it anyway. In the middle of my musings, another flash went off, and I glanced up to find the hero I loathed the most at the moment.

He floated off the platform with a certain self-assurance, opposite my direction.

"Good afternoon, Superman." I greeted, looking down at my laptop again. I couldn't hear the man's reaction as he was floating, but he was soon at the front of my desk, and I held out his file. "Three league meetings scheduled for today, and then you have a meeting at seven tonight with another planetary leader that I am not allowed to know the name of."

"Good afternoon." The man didn't acknowledge the rest of my words but took the itinerary anyway. "I think we should talk after you're done with work."

My typing stopped, and I looked up into the blue eyes of a man usually depicted as a sign of hope for the world. I fixed him with my most placating smile, though I was sure the annoyance I had for him was plain in my eyes.

"If this is about your identity, I can assure you the secret is safe with me." I folded my hands in that attentive manner, though I would rather strangle the man. "I couldn't care less who you are when the cape comes off, as it is not interesting enough for me to put either my time and energy into."

The alien's jaw twitched, and I resolved to put a tally by his name on the mission reports list. I was going to keep track of how many times I could annoy or piss off the heroes without them being able to fire me. It was obviously going to become my new favorite game while I was working at the Watchtower.

"I don't know if you understand the gravity of that knowledge." He laid is fears out for me while crossing his arms to up the intimidation factor, and I had to fight not to make my smile malicious.

"Honestly, do you think anyone would believe me if I did say something?" I inquired, and the man didn't look impressed. I sighed before looking back to my work and starting back on the financial reports for Wayne's accounting department. "I'm a glorified secretary at Wayne Enterprises in Gotham, which is nowhere near Metropolis, so I would never have had the chance to meet Superman. If I out you, that means I would have to out my boss, which means I am out of a job, which means I don't get any money, and I like money. With my credentials, I wouldn't be able to find a job anywhere else."

"So, it boils down to money?" I could practically feel the frown he was pitching in my direction.

"What did you expect, some extolment of my own virtues of honesty and integrity?" I closed the document before opening the mission report list. "I need money, it's honestly not that hard to understand."

The metahuman sucked in a deep breath, and I upped his tally to two. He wasn't going to enjoy me while I was here.

"Oh, and don't forget you have a mission report missing from a few weeks ago." I glanced back up with that polite smile. "I don't want to have to hunt you down to come find it."

And like that, I went back to my work. The man stood there for another few seconds, and I couldn't tell if he was just assessing me, or if he was trying to come up with more words to throw in my direction of my overall attitude of uncaring.

In the end, he just left me to my work.


"You hired your own secretary for this job?" Superman rounded up on the Bat at the monitoring womb. "I thought we agreed on somebody with sound morals."

Several heroes were sitting about the womb, waiting for the first meeting to begin. The Batman's expression didn't change, as he knew Robin was going to say something scathing to someone before the day was out. He knew most people didn't understand how assistants were supposed to conduct business, but she was his best, and the only one he trusted to work with the league.

"She's good at her job." Batman argued.

"She's only in it for the money." Superman gave him that disapproving stare. Some of the heroes tensed, having heard that saying from many villains in the past. Greed was a strong motivator for many people, especially those who were desperate. "And she's blatant about it."

"She's good at her job." The bat turned back to the monitors. "She's smart, dedicated, and knows her limitations. That means she's going to remain tight-lipped."

"Question," a male voice sounded, and Green Arrow made his way into the womb with a file in hand, "who hired an assistant that doesn't make coffee?"

"No coffee, food, dry-cleaning, or life-threatening situations." Batman said, "Those were her terms. Other than that, she'll do anything you ask within reason."

"She's a snarky little thing." The archer opened up the itinerary and took a peak. "Clean work though, I like it. Who's she employed with again?"

"She's Bruce Wayne's secretary." Batman gave the man a look. Green Arrow grinned back. "She'll say no."

"Can't say that if you haven't tried." The archer said. "I mean, look at this spreadsheet. Easy to read, color coded, and concise. I bet she's a wiz at paperwork too, and I need that for Queen Industries."

"Get your own Assistant." The Batman groused.

"Why would you even want her?" Superman inserted himself again, obviously displeased. "She has no respect for any of us."

"Have you ever had a good assistant?" The archer raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, if they have no bite, you don't want them working for you."

"I don't care for her attitude." Superman said plainly.

"J'onn likes her." The bat said, and at that point the meta-human had no leg to stand on. The Martian was the one who usually did the filing and reporting, and everyone in the league truly valued his opinion. "I suggest you get used to her."

Superman's mood continued to sour in the face of having to deal with the new employee of the league. He was a reporter, for Pete's sake, he didn't do secretaries. Secretaries are the ones you go to first to get a story, as they're the biggest gossips in the office. Usually.

"When did we get a Secretary?" Another voice entered the womb, this one belonging to Black Canary. "And why do we need one?"

"She's an assistant." Batman corrected. "She'll be the one organizing reports and scheduling meetings."

"And the rest of us are too busy?" She raised an eyebrow as she snapped her folder shut.

"That, or we have more important things to do with our time." The Batman groused. "Meeting in five."

With that, the man swept out of the womb to the meeting table.


MY job continued on like that, and as I met more and more heroes, they became more and more confused about my job at the Watchtower. The only ones who seemed privy to my usefulness, beyond nagging people for paperwork, were Martian Manhunter and Batman. Martian Manhunter was probably my favorite out of all the heroes. He took the time out of his day to ask me how mine was going.

I could appreciate that.

And when I had to explain for the nth time that, no I do not make coffee, and no I will not go and pick up your lunch, he explained in that Martian-y way of his that I was not a lacky, but an 'asset' and 'an investment in the league's future success.'

Kinder words had never been said.

Superman had continued being cold to me, and I expressed the favor in turn. Within reason of course. He was still technically one of my many bosses, so I couldn't be completely out of line. I stayed within my usual lane of sickening politeness and snide comments, but that seemed to get the job done well enough.

At least, it did until Saturday night.

"Ms. Lee, we'll need you here tomorrow to take notes on a meeting." Martian Manhunter said as I was handing him a typed-up summary of a mission undergone a month ago. I was to report to him with those for review, wait for approval, and then file them in a room at the far back of the ginormous satellite, hidden away in a maze of hallways.

Two weeks had passed since I began working, and I had ironed out a schedule. Set myself up at my desk, hack into the Wi-Fi, see if anyone notices (nobody does), print the itinerary, give out only three because only three heroes come after me, file the mission reports left on my desk the prior evening after I had left, and work Wayne's paperwork. This notetaking business, although it was something I did for Brucie at Wayne Enterprises, was something I wasn't open to concerning how dangerous league business was.

That, and I had plans.

"Sorry, but tomorrow is my only day off." I said, almost apologetically. "I really can't miss it."

The Martian frowned slightly as if the concept of me taking a day off hadn't crossed his mind. Even a few of the heroes looked in my direction with a look of surprise to see me turning down something akin to an assignment.

"You're not here Monday through Wednesday though." A Green Lantern pointed out, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, but I work my regular job on those days, as well as the days I come here." I gave him that polite, condescending smile. "But Sunday is my only day off completely. It's written in my contract."

"You're under contract?" Superman piped up from his spot in the room. He sounded like he didn't believe a single word coming out of my mouth. I fought not to roll my eyes.

"Of course." I nodded.

"It also states that should we need you in an emergency, you're to be here." Batman said evenly from his spot at the computers, not even bothering to look up from the screens. I felt my back stiffen.

I fucking knew I was going to hate working for Batman.

"And I'm sure note-taking is such an emergency." I forced that smile to stay even and my voice to remain polite. "Of course, no one above my position could even begin to traverse such a task as putting words on paper."

The monitoring womb went deathly quiet.

"And of course, I'm sure there won't be overtime pay for my time either way, as that is also nowhere in my contract." I clasped my hands in front of me evenly. "And that any plans I may or may not have had, important or not, could not even begin to compare to the emergency that is note taking."

"What's so important that you have planned this Sunday?" Wonder Woman was the only hero to ask, and I fixed her with a very cold look.

"I'm visiting my brother in Bludhaven Memorial Hospital." I supplied.

No one dared contradict me after that. I turned to the lantern who still sat, giving me a look I didn't have the energy to decipher.

"By the way, you still have that report out. I'd like it back within the next week." My smile was practically screwed onto my face at that point.

The Batman heaved a heavy sigh, the one reserved for my petulance, before he decided to break the awkward silence.

"Go do you work, Robin."

"Understood."

And like that, I made my way back to my desk. My Sundays were the only days I had to take a breath and live my twenty-two-year-old life, more or less. They were laid out and scheduled perfectly for a reason, and they were going to stay that way. If I had to brawl the big blue boy scout, I'd do it just to make sure my Sundays were my Sundays.

Easy to say, nobody asked me to work on a Sunday again.


The next morning, I woke up at six and took a nice hot shower. I took my sweet time papering my skin and wrapping myself in the fluffiest towel I owned. I leisurely made my way to my closet, thanking every deity that I didn't have to pull myself into heels, and put on a pair of old, faded jeans, some comfortable tennis shoes I'd had for years, a thin sweater my mom had given me last Christmas, and my glasses.

I refused to wear them at work since it would push me further into the typical image of an administrative assistant.

I put my hair into a ponytail and looked in the mirror. I looked a bit thinner these days, and I didn't like it. I should talk Wayne into giving me a two-hour break so I could use the company gym. With a frown, I put my sweater in a French tuck to further hide my thin frame, cocked my head and then nodded.

Clean and presentable, just how I liked it.

With that, I grabbed my purse and made my way out of my tiny apartment and into the streets of Gotham. I was going to drop by my favorite coffee shop, then hop a bus to Bludhaeven. Halfway through my walk to the coffee shop, my phone rang. I pulled it out without breaking a step and checked the caller ID, a genuine smile finding its way onto my face.

"Hey Dad, what's up?" I answered.

"Oh, its good to hear your voice, Cookie." My Father's warm bass tone filtered through the phone. "I swear we never get to talk now that you've got that hot-shot job with Wayne."

"Well, you might not have to worry so much about that." My steps felt light as air on my way to the shop. "I have another job that pays a bit more now."

"You quit?" He asked incredulously.

"Of course not." I placated. "Wayne offered me some more work on the side, and I decided it would help out with Ryan's medical bills."

"You shouldn't be worrying about that, Cookie." Dad's tone faltered a little bit.

"He's my brother, so I'm going to help out too." I replied. "Besides, I'm also putting some money away. It's not all going to Ryan."

"Good." Dad acknowledged. "Just make sure you take care of yourself, Cookie. I worry about you over there."

"Please, Wayne wouldn't want to lose the only assistant willing to put up with him for twelve hours a day." I rolled my eyes as I came up to the shop. "I'm at that nice coffee shop in Gotham. Do you want anything?"

"Get me a large mocha latte and tell the barista to add four pumps of honey." My dad instructed.

"On it." I looked up at the cozy shop. "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Cookie."

The little shop in Gotham was quick and efficient, and it had me out the door in no time at all with two large drinks and a smile. It was little under fifteen minutes before I was in bludhaven and standing before the large police station I practically grew up in.

I was devastated when I heard the whole Bludhaven Division went under construction as the lot of dirty cops had been rooted out as I was scared my Dad was going to get pulled out, or worse, shot. Of course, he was a good man, but all good men have their secrets. Luckily, my Dad had been deemed clean—or clean enough—and was now head of the homicide division.

As I stepped into the station, I greeted the men in blue manning the front. They were either getting hazed, were on probation, or both. I was supposed to ID and get escorted into the building, but I hadn't had to do that for a few years. However, it had also been a while since I visited Dad at work, so most of the new cops they'd hired after the cleaning wouldn't know me. As I stepped up to the counter, I fixed the police officers with a kind smile.

"I'm here to visit Detective Lee." I had to set down my cups of coffee to pull out my ID. The younger of the two was giving me a disbelieving look while the older fixed me with a raised eyebrow.

"So you're his juvie kid, huh?" The older cop needled, and my smile turned a tad malicious.

"The one and only." I nodded. "Served a whole two-year sentence."

"I thought you were sentenced to five." The old man joked, handing back my ID.

"Got out on good behavior." I took it back with a knowing smile. "Now excuse me, I have to hand my Dad his drink and head to see my brother."

With that, I turned about and made my way to my Dad's area of work. He liked to sit out with his detectives and work with them on cases, even if he didn't do as much field work as the younger detectives did. He practically threw a fit when he was given his own office. He still has the office, but it's been turned into an unofficial break room last I heard. As soon as I rounded the corner of the hall to the homicide division, a booming voice echoed through the station.

"Cookie!" My father laughed a hearty laugh at the sight of me.

"Hey Dad, how's work?" I joked as I came closer and set the coffee down on his desk.

"Busy, but never too busy to see my baby girl." He nodded. "Tell me, how is good ole Wayne treating you?"

"Running me into the ground, as per usual." I rolled my eyes comically, noticing that all noise and motion in the station had stopped around us. "Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork."

"That's my Cookie, always a hard worker." He nodded, pulling out a file from his desk. "Think you could spare a few seconds to file this away for me?"

"Of course." I picked up the file and looked at the inscription. "This is that old Scarecrow case, huh?"

"Yeah, you should have seen it, Cookie." My dad shook his head. "Nasty thing."

"I'll go put this away." I nodded to him. "And then I'm going to visit Ryan."

"You're going to come home for dinner, aren't you?" My father crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "You know your mother has been cooking up a storm since eight this morning."

"I'll be home, promise." I nodded before turning to the filing room. At my back, I felt the multitude of stares from the officers working around the station.

"What're you lot staring at." My father barked with a voice no longer warm and welcoming, and I could tell he was donning that demanding, hard look he used for work.

I obviously took after my father regarding work ethic and demeanor. That, or Dad had a serious personality switch that needed looking into. But, he'd been that way since I could remember. As soon as I walked the files down to the filing room and walked back to my father's area, my dad was glaring down at the lot of officers too scared to move from his gaze.

"Filed an put away." I announced my arrival, giving the others time to escape when Dad showed his pleased smile to me.

"Thank you, Cookie." He nodded before turning to glance around the station. His eyes landed on that young officer that had shown me in, and a small sign of maliciousness entered his gaze. "Grayson!"

The young officer didn't flinch but came up stand before us with his shoulders back and head held high in a show of understanding. Props to him for being to withstand my father's scrutiny. However, I got the feeling this cop wasn't one to follow all the rules.

"I know you're bored of your office probation," The man looked the younger cop up and down, "Escort Robin here to Buldhaven Memorial and we'll see about getting you back out on the streets."

"Yes Sir." the young officer nodded to my father respectfully before turning to me. "Whenever you're ready."

"I should head there now. Ryan's probably waiting on the next instalment of Dusk." I nodded.

"Stop reading my son those trashy romances." Dad clapped my shoulder, and though it felt weak at the mention of Ryan, the touch was comforting. "Or his expectations for men will skyrocket."

I laughed, though it sounded hollow to my ears. I kissed Dad's cheek goodbye with a promise to be home in time for dinner before following Grayson to a squad car. I was sure he wouldn't begin talking to me until we were at least a mile from my Dad's protective gaze, but I was surprised yet again.

"So, head of homicide for a dad," He stated, giving me a knowing look, "and getting into Juvey?"

"Let's just say my heart was in the right place." I took a sip of coffee, not liking the way this conversation was headed. "And he was just a detective at that point, so it wasn't as bad."

"Mind me asking how you got yourself into that much trouble?" He opened my car door for me with a polite smile.

Good try honey, but I was a master at polite smiles. I knew how fake you were with that look alone. You either wanted something incriminating, or you were hoping to get in good with my dad. Either way, Grayson was losing points with me left and right.

"Yeah, actually I do mind." I looked away, frowning. "Its not something I'm necessarily proud of."

With that, I settled myself into the passenger seat and shut the door on my own, hoping the young cop would get the message and drop the subject. He quickly walked around to the other side and slid into the driver's seat. He didn't say anything until we were well on the road, but even then, it was too soon.

"Listen, I'm sorry if it's a sore subject," He started, giving me an apologetic smile more fake than his polite one, "but you just don't strike me as the Juvey type."

"I was a pretty angry child." I supplied vaguely, a statement that would usually have brought this line of discussion to a close.

It wasn't necessarily a lie. I was probably as angry now as I was back then, but I was just angry about other things. I was just as quiet about my anger too, and just as volatile in my reactions. Snarky words, thinly veiled politeness, and pettiness were all attributes I'd begun sporting in my early teens, but none of them were necessarily out of character for a teenager. The only truly bad thing I did was the crime that landed me into Juvey in the first place.

"Somehow, I don't believe it." Officer Grayson supplied, this time giving me a genuine smile. I gave him a polite one in return before forcing my eyes to the road.

We were quiet after that. Sitting in the squad car mad me restless as I watched traffic slow down around us. Nothing brought daytime traffic to a speeding halt like a cop car. It seemed like an eternity passed before we finally got to the hospital. With a short thank you that I didn't allow the young cop to return, I stepped out of the car and walked myself into the small hospital.

The nurses on call at the front desk looked up and waved sweetly at me as I made my way to the elevator. I could see the pity in their eyes as the doors closed in front of me. I sucked in a deep breath when I got to the fifth floor, ICU.

The head nurse on call on that floor gave me a strong nod, her blonde curls bobbing with the motion. I smiled back as I made my way past their station and toward the room. I paused outside the door, looking at the name card just below the Doctor's.

Ryan Lee. He'd been there long enough to earn it. The sight of the name gave me a pain in my chest that I forced not to show on my face. Turning away, I entered the room.

It was still as clean and sterile as I remembered, white and without character. The only defining characteristic of the room itself was the fluffy blanket and large book nestled in the visitor's chair, far from the bed. And then there was the patient. Ryan Lee.

My twin brother.

"Hey Ryan." I said softly. There was no reply.

I hadn't expected one.

"I hope you missed me this week." I drug the chair over to his side before kicking off my shoes and curling up. "I know I'm not the best company, but at least I read to you."

Ryan's near thin form didn't move, didn't speak. His eyes didn't open like they used to, and he didn't greet me with a pun or a joke. His wild hair was close cropped to his head, just like he hated. The first time I saw that, I had a conniption fit and almost bodily attacked the nurse for daring to cut Ryan's hair. Dad had to remove me from the hospital himself in order for me to calm down and let me know they had to crop his hair for some procedure or another.

I didn't buy into it, especially since his hair was cropped close when there was no procedure to be had. Personally, I thought the head nurse did it because she preferred a more clean-cut look on him. But then again, I had no proof.

"I see they cropped you again." I leaned into the palm of my hand as I stared at my brother, his comatose state now a norm in my life. "You look awkward, bro. It's like a mini afro."

My words were a lie. Even asleep, my brother was stupidly gorgeous. His jawline was strong enough to cut you, his skin was strikingly clear, and his lashes were full and luscious. I reached out and ran a hand gently through his hair, feeling the loose curls against my skin. It was something I did before the accident, though he couldn't stop me with a wave of a hand or come back and noogie me.

No matter how much I wish he would.

I drew my hand back and pulled out my phone.

"Your favorite band came out with a new album. I'll tell the nurses to play it for you before I leave." I put the reminder for a few hours from now. "Mom bought it for me. How silly, huh? I never liked this band, but after the accident… its like she's getting us mixed up more than before."

I knew our mother was trying to make me fill that void Ryan left. She would shove his favorite band in my face, talk about going to college with me, even offer to watch the movies he loved with me, all the while reminding me how much I 'used to love them.'

"I'm still working that second job, though they thought I was actually going to work a Sunday." I cocked my head as I saw Ryan's eyes twitch beneath his lids. It was something normal, and it encouraged me to keep going. "Of course, I had to remind them of my contract, but everything worked out. I didn't get fired."

Another twitch. It was almost like he was listening.

"Anyway, why don't we continue with the story." I opened the book again, finding my place. "Bea was just walking into the woods with Edmund following her."

And I began to read, much like I did every Sunday. I read as animatedly as I could, loosing myself in the story every so often. I read this book almost to spite him. He hated the thought of this series as much as I did, but a small part of me hoped he'd hate it enough to wake up and tell me to knock it off.

An hour or so passed while I was reading, and while I was taking a sip of water, a knock came from the door. The doctor stepped in, smiling blindly at me as he entered. He checked Ryan's paperwork before fixing me with a look.

"How are you doing miss Lee?" He asked, and I could see right through his fake attempt at small talk.

"Just spit it out." I sighed.

"To the point as always, I see." The man shook his head almost fondly before his smile fell. "I think its time we started talking about a more long-term option for Ryan."

"Gotham General Care hasn't called me back yet." I answered. "And I refuse to put him anywhere less qualified to care for his condition."

"I'm just trying to make the financial burden easier on you." He sighed, pulling up a chair next to me. "I don't know if you quite understand how much it costs to keep him here."

"With all due respect, Dr. Crane," I cut in icily, "that fact that I pay three quarters of his medical bills might suggest I know how much it costs to keep him here."

"And that last quarter is a burden your parents are experiencing, no matter how small it may seem to you." He pressed further. I glared hotly at him.

"Then I'll pay all his medical bills, how does that sound?" I snapped. "There is not a single facility outside of this hospital that can properly care for him. Coma patients tend to go mysteriously missing in Bludhaven nursing homes, and I'll be damned if he ends up in a run-down, crime ridden neighborhood where someone could potentially sell his organs on the black market because you decided it was time for me to consider my options."

"If I could secure him a place in Gotham General, would you consider moving him?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck and trying desperately to placate me. The man was wary of me since I flew off the handle at Ryan's haircut.

"Without a doubt." I nodded. Gotham General Care was the best nursing home the city had to offer for the general masses, and I had been trying to get Ryan moved there since the Doctors told us it might be time to move him there.

"Then I'll see what I can do." Dr. Crane got up quickly and bid me goodbye.

"Your doctor is such an ass." I said once the doctor had gone, earning another twitch of Ryan's eyes. "Now, where was I?"


I didn't make it to dinner that night. Instead, I was called into the Watchtower. Although I was emotionally and mentally drained, I made my way to the closest Zeta tube as I apologized to both of my parents over the phone. It was a small phone booth in the shadiest part of Bludhaven, making me step quickly in and out of it.

The watchtower was a devoid activity, something I wasn't as used to. However, I plastered a calm look over my face and moved to my desk.

I saw down and connected my laptop to the Wi-Fi and printer, put on my headset, then pressed the call button.

"I'm stationed." I said, already working through some files for the next morning.

"Get up here." Superman's voice filtered through, letting me know he was in the monitoring womb and he was not happy with whatever was going down. Lucky me, he was going to be extra annoying tonight.

I made my way to the womb, wondering where the heroes were who I could usually find buzzing about. However, there was still a handful of people roaming around. I nodded each time I caught someone's eyes, but other than that, I made no move to introduce myself. As I got closer and closer to the womb, a large body stepped in my way. I looked up with an unimpressed stare into a set of mismatched eyes.

Well, mismatched was probably the nicest way I could put it. One was a regular human eye, and the other was a red, circular light. The hero was at least a foot taller than me and made up of almost pure metal.

"Can I help you?" I asked, and the human eyebrow raised at me.

"Isn't that what I should be asking you?" He questioned.

"I was called in last minute." I showed him the text on my phone. "If I wasn't supposed to be here, I'd assume I'd have been stopped by now."

"Haven't seen you around here before." He said, shoulders now easing up only the slightest bit.

"Its my second week." I shrugged. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be in the monitoring womb."

"I'm sure I'll see you around?" He asked, though an answer wasn't required. I knew he'd just hunt me down or beckon me to the tower he wanted to. That seemed to be the thing heroes did when they couldn't live without me.

I made my way to the womb with the giant half-robot at my back, and my entrance earned me two sets of eyes. Neither looked too pleased at my appearance.

"You're late." Superman said, voice hard.

"Sorry, I wasn't anywhere near a zeta tube." I said, not even near ready to put up with his attitude. "What did you need me for?"

"We're missing some important files for a meeting in fifteen minutes." He said, crossing his arms. I felt one of my eyes twitch. I looked around the room, noting that my day boss was nowhere to be found. Well, at least I couldn't fault him for this stupidity. "One of yours, but we can't seem to find it in the mess of the filing room you've recently made, along with the new computer program."

The room went silent as they waited for me to answer, and I could feel their thoughts. If its missing, its obviously been stolen. If its been stolen, I was obviously the one who stole it. If I stole it, I had to cover it up somehow. Oh, I know, why not change the filing system? However well deserved, their complete lack of decency and trust made me want to pull my hair out.

"You mean to tell me," I started, fighting not to yell, "that I cancelled dinner with my parents because two supposedly competent heroes with amazing abilities, who are legitimately responsible for the safety of our world and by extension our solar system, are incapable of finding a single file."

"You need to calm down." Superman stated, cold look unwavering, only serving to make my emotional state fracture that much more.

"Excuse me?" I asked, struggling with my emotions more than I ever had. Not even Brucie made me this angry. "I need to calm down? You're the ones who just breached my contract because none of you can read a cheat sheet. You're the ones who are supposedly so inept at handling paperwork a single day that I have to drag my exhausted ass up here to find one file. You're the ones who make me want to punch something, which is by far the most impressive feat any of you have ever accomplished because even Bruce Wayne doesn't piss me off this much!"

"Why don't we all calm down?" One Green lantern cut in smoothly as he came to stand between me and the supposed beacon of hope, and my eyes cut to him. He was someone I hadn't seen yet before, and I thought I'd met most of the heroes by now. His hair was a shock of black against and artistically designed suit made of green, black and silver. He turned to look at me. "You said something about a cheat sheet?"

I took a deep breath.

"It was in your itineraries four days ago." I shot Superman a look. "Which now I know you don't read, thanks for that by the way."

Superman looked like he wanted to argue with me, but the lantern gave him another look of slight warning.

"Do you think you could find us one of those files?" He asked, almost as if he were trying to placate me. "It would have been a five thousand series."

"I'll need operative and planted names, as well as the mission category and date filed." I said, making my way to one of the open computers. I sat down and pulled up the search engine Martian Manhunter let me implement. It was the same one I used at Wayne Enterprises. "The search process would have also been explained in your itinerary as well, if anyone else was wondering."

The womb stayed oddly tense and silenced.

"Earth, reconnaissance, Green arrow and Black canary." The lantern supplied. The information was pulled up, and I sifted through a few files for the date specified. I assumed they wanted the newest one.

"Any related files that need bringing up?" I asked, as I wrote down the serial number on the report. "And while I'm at it, can I ask why this file is so damn important that I almost punched Superman over it?"

Someone choked on air, but no one answered my question. I assumed it was the half-robot.

"Okay, never mind then." I got up from my chair. "Its obviously above my clearance level."

Finding the file was quick and painless, and I was back at the womb in good time with three files. The three heroes had been joined by one iconic hero herself, Hawkgirl. I hadn't formerly met her, and I wasn't eager to do it right then.

"I pulled some corresponding files, and files of interest." I greeted, holding up five file folders detailing the mission reports I wasn't technically supposed to know about. "If there are any more related files needed, the search engine should be enough to hunt down anything pertinent."

"Thank you, Ms. Lee." The Lantern smiled gratefully as he gently unloaded the files from my arms.

"I would say no problem, but it technically was." I deadpanned before I turned to the big blue boy-scout. "Can I go now? I have to make sure I shove something down my throat before I pass out or something."

Superman looked tired, and I mentally made the note to put yet another tally by his name. If he wasn't looking mighty as a mountain, I could assume it was my fault. I got the immense pleasure of being able to exhaust him to no end. It was something Batman and I had in common.

"You're dismissed." He sighed, putting a hand up to rub his eyes. With a mock salute to all the heroes in the room, I drug my happy ass back to the zeta tubes. No one made a move to stop me or ask me any questions. I assumed I was going to build a reputation for being two-faced at this rate, but I couldn't give any more fucks today.

As I zetaed down, I realized I had been taken back to Wayne Enterprises. It was the middle of the night in Gotham, and I knew I was going to have to call in late the next morning or stay that night to overhaul the work I was going to miss due to sleep deprivation.

I settled on shooting Wayne an email with his itinerary and the code word for 'the super friends fucked me over' before sending an emergency call to Ricky. I was sure the man never slept, as he always answered me before the fourth ring.

"Good evening, Ms. Lee." He answered, calm as ever.

"Hey Ricky," I sighed, rubbing my eyes, "I'm at the Wayne building and its too late to call a cab. Do you think you could take me home?"

"On my way." He hung up and I made my way back down to the lobby to wait for him. It took the man a good fifteen minutes before I he pulled up, and I found myself thanking every deity l that I had all-access to a chauffeur. It was an invaluable asset, especially when I'm left to fend for myself on the streets of Gotham in the middle of the night.

"Hey Ricky." I said, sliding into the seat next to the man.

"Working a bit late, are we?" He asked as he shifted into gear. "Mr. Wayne really has it out for you this month."

"You have no idea." I breathed, trying my best not to fall asleep on the way home. Ricky wasn't helping by playing soothing jazz that lulled me to a light snooze. The breaks of the car jolted me awake. Ricky gave me a joking smile as I glared at him.

"Have a good night, Ms. Lee." He tipped his hat at me, and I looked out the window to find that I was indeed in front of my apartment building.

"Thanks Ricky, I owe you one." I smiled before hopping out.

I was home free at this point. I could practically hear the soft call of my comforter and pillows. My pajamas were going to be my favorite pair, I thought. The ones with the white and navy stripes and the adorable frocket.

As I opened my door, head filled with thoughts of a good few hours' sleep, what greeted me behind my door pulled my feet to a stop.

In the middle of my tiny living room stood a man, tall and imposing, with a beaten-up brown bomber hanging from his shoulders. It did little to hide the black Kevlar he'd covered himself in. I knew the material as soon as I saw how he moved, reacting to my arrival. I'd become intimately familiar with the stuff after Batman had me deliver his half-destroyed suits to his manor.

The defining aspects of the man, however, were his red helmet that gave the likeness of a face, and the matching blood colored bat symbol emblazoned on his chest. Well, that and the gun aimed squarely at my chest.

I took a deep breath.

"Okay, listen," I said as came into the apartment and shut the door, "I have had a shitty day, and if you're here to rob me, I would like to politely request you leave it for next month."

As I had too little sleep and fucks to give, I couldn't fathom handling this situation in a normal fashion. It seemed that I couldn't even conjure up an adrenaline rush from finding that my home had been broken into by someone who may or may not be a thug.

Well, he was obviously one of Batman's people if I went off the insignia, so I assumed I'd have to take care of his poor ass. It might be somewhere in my contract, but I didn't have the time nor energy to think about it too much. This seemed like something he'd put in my contract. Well, If my boss says 'jump', I say 'how high' and all that.

The man didn't react, though I thought I saw a slight squint in the eyes of the helmet, if that was even possible. He lowered his gun ever so slightly.

"How shitty?"

"Today I visited my comatose brother, got told I'm going to have to move him to a nursing home, got called into my second job on my one day off at like seven at night, got yelled at for doing said job, then got dropped off in the middle of the night on the streets of Gotham to fend for myself." I said, putting my purse down on the nearby credenza. "So, I mean, you can be the judge of that."

The man seemed to look me up and down, taking in the sight of how close to passing out I was, how thin and how pale, how short and how weak. He put his gun away.

"I need a place to squat for the night," He sat back on my couch, kicked his feet up on my coffee table, and leaned back, "and it looks like you're offering."

I took another steadying breath, taking the time to remember that one, the man had guns and two, I wasn't one hundred percent sure that this wasn't a hallucination brought on by my sleep deprivation.

"Get your muddy ass boots off my coffee table, I just cleaned it." I said, though my voice held no real fire. I made my way to my linen closet and pulled down the blankets and pillow. I kept for Indie when she needed a place to crash but was too drunk to stay in my bed. I tossed them toward the man, not bothering to look and see if they made it to him. "And if I come out and find my living room trashed, I will hunt you down."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am." The man mocked me, but I didn't answer back.

I escaped to my room instead. I barely managed to lock the door behind me before flopping onto my bed, sleep coming over me like a tidal wave.

I slept through my alarm the next morning. That, or it never went off in the first place. I couldn't be bothered to figure it out as I bolted straight from my bed in a mad attempt to get ready. I was already an hour late to the Wayne building, and though I emailed him the itinerary, there was no guarantee my boss bothered to print it out.

I was quickly out of my bed and into my closet, shoving on a black dress and throwing my discarded pajamas into the hamper in a mad dash to get ready. Trying to get back to the door, I slipped and went down with a yelp, probably bruising my ankle on my way.

"Fuck everything." I seethed as I rubbed the now aching appendage. Now, not only was I in a hurry, but I was in pain and pissy.

I slammed my door open as I hopped around trying to shove my feet into a pair of heels, aiming to make it to the bathroom so I could discern how much I'd need to do to make it seem like I hadn't spent a good portion of the night dealing with too much stress.

As I expected, the dark circles had deepened under my eyes. I made to tame my hair and put it in a professional bun before I brushed my teeth, put in my contacts and slapped on my makeup. Finally looking presentable, I made my way to my living room with a slight limp only to be greeted by a similar sight to the one the night before.

Except this time, his helmet was off, replaced with a black domino mask, and he had toast and coffee. And he was eating on my white couch, the fucker.

"Did I say you could eat my food?" I snapped as I made for my purse. On my way, I grabbed the mug out of his hands and took a long sip.

"Did I say you could drink my coffee?" He shot back, obviously annoyed.

"If it came from my kitchen, it's my coffee." I quipped with venom. "Do me a favor next time and don't choose my apartment for squatting unless you're paying rent."

"I don't know," he said started, giving me the smuggest shit-eating grin I had ever seen. "I like this place. Its nice, clean, the landlady is compliant."

"Oh, fuck you." I snapped as I got closer to the door. "Be gone by the time I get back."

"No promises, left foot." He quipped back. I paused half-way out the door. "Don't think I didn't here you eat it this morning."

I slammed the door behind me as I tried to escape the assholery currently presiding over my apartment.

I had a sinking suspicion that my day was just going to get worse.


Did I work on this instead of what I'm supposed to be working on?
Yes.

Am I ashamed?
Eh.

Is it edited?
Not in the slightest.

Will it get edited at some point?
I hope so.

Please enjoy.