Issue #29
Calm Concerns
This is Cecilia King-Jones.
Her friends call her Cissie.
She considers herself to be someone who is more than content with being relatively pleased about the goings on in her everyday life. After all, the 17-year-old had a great many accomplishments to be proud about. She was the youngest person to ever win an Olympic gold medal in archery. She had a brief stint in a cult television series that people still talk about on blogs and message boards. Hell, she even played a small part in saving the galaxy from an intergalactic invasion force. None of these were something to sneeze at.
Still, there was one aspect about her life that she could complain about if she chose to take the time to do so. She had very few things to call her own. Yes, Cissie knew she owned her fair share of keepsakes and memories but she didn't think that the things she knew to be hers had a great deal of meaning. In fact, if she took the time to really consider it she could make the dim realization that nearly all of the things that defined who she was to the world around her had come from other people.
"Cissie" was a nickname that she had gotten from her best friend. Her codename, Arrowette, was a name that was passed down to her by her mother. The bow that she held in her hands was given to her by Batman. The arrows? The light-weight Kevlar armor she was wearing? Batman again.
Say what you want about Bruce's somber disposition but at least he gives you good stuff, she thought while her face was set in a sardonic smile.
It wasn't even her choice to be as good as she was with a bow-and-arrow and that was the one thing that she knew she was good at. It was her mother that had made certain that her little girl worked as hard as she could to be as good as an archer as she had become. Cissie knew that she was the product of her mother's molding rather than of her nurturing. Her mother had conditioned her in order to become a ways and means to achieve the fame and fortune that she couldn't achieve in her prime. It had taken years of intensive therapy and separation from her mother to realize that but it was deathly clear to her now.
When she had first come to Gotham, Bruce had offered her the vast backyard of Wayne Manor to serve as a practice range. She truly appreciated the offer and did what she could to make the lush Bermuda grass around her a place of growth but soon found that she preferred the cold rock of the catacombs beneath Wayne Manor. The feel of the fresh grass underneath her bare feet reminded her far too much of the countless hours she spent on pristine target ranges shooting arrows until her arms felt as if they would fall off and her eyes would become so exhausted and strained that the bright colors of the targets in front of her would begin to blur together. She knew she could have worn boots or tennis shoes to make it a little better but there was no form of footwear that could have blotted out the persistent demands and urgings that surrounded her whenever she set foot on the lawn.
Cissie shook herself free from those painful memories. Her time at the Elias Boarding School had given her the peace of mind to recognize that her mother's obsession could be turned into a gift. She had spent nearly a year-and-a-half with Young Justice, the teen super group, and had learned what it was like to have people in her life that she could count on. People like Cassie and Greta and Tim. Although her career as a superheroine was short lived, the friendships she had made while working with Young Justice was something that she figured she had a right to call a product of her own effort.
Of course, given the current circumstances, Cissie wasn't even sure if she had that anymore.
Cissie first thought that the reason that Batman and Nightwing had chosen to seek her out was her previous association with Robin (the brooding, hyper-serious male Robin not the chatty, hyper-insane Spoiler who was now Robin). She found out later that this was hardly the case. It's now been six months since she had agreed to move to Gotham and she's still not entirely sure why Batman thought that Arrowette and Gotham were a good combination.
Hell, she wasn't even certain why she was still here. Until that fateful night when Nightwing had burst into her dorm room (an experience that she had only dreamed about on a handful of occasions), Cissie thought that she had been through with her fleeting pursuit of being a superhero. After nearly murdering the assholes who had killed her therapist she had all but vowed to never be Arrowette again. She had recognized the harm that could be brought about by the gift that her mother had forced upon her and that recognition was something that she didn't want a part of.
So here's the 64,000 dollar question! Why am I here now? Why did I turn away from Elias and everybody I had come to care about to fight crime in a city I don't really like that much with people that I don't really know that well? Did I do it because Batman wanted me to do it and I was too afraid to turn The Batman down? Did I come to Gotham because I thought I could do some good or is this just another instance when I was too afraid to follow my own judgment and allowed someone else to make my decisions for me?
Why can't I just have one thing I know I can call my own?
"Yoo hoo! Anybody home in there? Helloooooooooooo?"
Stephanie's raucous inquisitions quickly brought Cissie back to the world around her and forced her to take a moment to ponder over the blonde-haired ball of energy before her. Even after working with her for the past six months Cissie still had a hard time thinking of Stephanie as anyone else but the girl in the eggplant cape and cowl who was more likely to screw up and piss people off rather than have a part in doing anything useful.
This wasn't to say that Cissie didn't like it when Spoiler would occasionally horn in on Young Justice business. In fact, if she din't realize that Greta would have suffered a conniption from hearing it out loud, Cissie would have said that she was quite fond of Steph. As far as she was concerned, anybody who could put a smile on the face of a sourpuss like Timothy Drake was cool in her book. That being said, Cissie never would have thought that this endearingly obnoxious daughter of a pill-popping mother and a deadbeat father would have ever been someone that she knew she could rely on to handle her share of crime fighting duties.
Cissie wisely chose to reply to Stephanie's nosy inquiries before she chose to employ even less subtle means to get her attention. "Yeah, I'm peachy. Did you get a hold of the commissioner?"
"The good-hearted, doughnut-loving folks at the Gotham City Police Department are cleaning up the crime scene as we speak." Stephanie replied with a cheerful grin. "Gordon told me to tell you thanks for a job well done."
Arrowette rolled her eyes in a depreciating matter. "All I did was scope out the place to make certain nobody moved before we could get in there and collar them. You were the one who hogged all the good stuff."
"I let you have the last one!" Stephanie fired back. "And that guy could have killed me!"
"That chicken-wuss didn't even know how to fire his own gun!"
Stephanie's enthusiasm deflated significantly in the face of such a logical hypothesis. "He could have fired it off by accident!"
"And then you would have used your ring to deflect the bullet."
"Yeah, well, um," Stephanie stammered. "But what if I lost my ring when I fell down?" Stephanie sighed when Cissie didn't even bother to give voice to such a ridiculous notion. "All right, all right. Still, you did stake out the place for four hours! I know I couldn't have stood still in one place for that long with or without a power ring."
The compliment was a last grasp but Cissie found herself smiling nevertheless. "Just another day in the life, mi amiga."
Cissie extended her closed right fist towards Stephanie, a gesture that Stephanie was more than happy to return by knocking her own fist against her partner's. "Still," Stephanie pressed on, "you are looking pretty down in the mouth. What's goin' on? Is there anything I can do?"
"It's nothing," Cissie replied. "I'm just a little stressed out about the fact that Batman's coming back to town. I mean, working in Gotham is one thing. Working in Gotham while Batman is within a ten-mile radius is an entirely different matter."
Stephanie paused for a moment before letting loose with a playful snort. "Simmer down, my sharp-shooting hermana! That's nothing to be worried about. I know B can seem pretty intimidating but trust me, he's come a long way in being more emotionally mature. Don't get me wrong. It'll probably be a bit of an awkward situation at first but once you get to know him and he sees what you can do then you shouldn't have any problems getting along with Bats."
Paris, France
If looks could kill then the man trapped within The Batman's fists would have long since been fit for burial.
"Allow me to be honest with you for just one moment. For the last two minutes I have been making sincere estimations towards the amount of bones I will have to break before you decide to tell me what I need to hear from you. These approximations have been substantially higher with every lie that you have fed me from your putrid gullet. So, in the interest of your personal safety and to increase the probability that you will not require a series of expensive and painful operations in order to stand upright, I strongly advise you to tell me everything you know about your employer right now."
The bedraggled ruffian could only respond by gibbering in rapid-fire French. "Please! Please do not hurt me! I swear to you that I've told you everything I know!"
Bruce Wayne took an agonizing moment to examine the panicked man he had at his mercy. The panicked look in the man's face and the dubious shifting of his brown eyes screamed to Batman that he was lying.
Still.
Batman found it rather frustrating that this pathetic fop of a hoodlum still believed that the consequences of ratting out his employers were far more severe than the price he would pay for withholding information from him. The detective found himself quite eager to point out the folly of making such a nonsensical conclusion. He somehow managed to tighten the already vice-like grip he had on the criminal's shirt before pulling the subject of his interrogation close enough to his eyes that he could see the individual beads of nervous sweat creeping from the man's receding hairline. When he spoke again, Batman's voice was the voice of a man who clearly had no trouble embracing the ugliest recesses of humanity in order to get what he desired.
"You're lying."
Now the detective could all but smell the fear reverberating from the bulky criminal's quivering frame. He knew that the confession would soon be forthcoming and a dark part of him was disappointed that it had been so simple.
"Hey! Do you know where you can get good Thai food here at two in the morning?"
Trying his hardest to reign in a frustrated growl, Batman turned to his partner.
Clad in his usual black and blue battle armor, Nightwing moved closer to the interrogation scene with an easygoing saunter. He held one of his escrima sticks in his right hand while taking a healthy bite from the apple he held in his left hand. "'Cause let me tell you," he went on, "I've got nothing against Parisian cooking but there's only so many pastries one man can eat before he starts to worry about getting a spare tire."
The glare in Batman's eyes could have melted the most cultured selection of cheeses that Paris could provide. "I am attempting to gather important information and I would appreciate it if you would not interrupt me."
Nightwing had little trouble enduring his father's withering stare and took another bite from his apple before replying. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were looking for a 'good cop'. Are you sure you don't want to raid the bad guys' fridge? They've got some nice looking stir-fry! Besides, I don't know why we're going through all this trouble when we can just use the chain saw I found in the meat locker."
The criminal in Batman's arms gave out a startled choke and his eyes grew phenomenally wide. Both Batman and Nightwing were quite cognizant enough to recognize that the violent threat of dismemberment seemed to be a very efficient way of loosening their captive's tongue.
"We already know that this is one of the facilities your employer is using to manifest the energy needed to create the neural ciphers." Batman growled. "Once again, it would be in your best interest to tell us everything you know about the location of the other facilities and any information you have pertaining to the identity of your employer."
"Please, demon! Do not hound me a moment longer! I was only assigned to gather the subjects for the professor's experiments! I had no contact with any of my employers save for the factory director and the only other compound I have ever been told of was the facility in Berlin. I do not know the facility's precise location! I swear! I wish I could tell you more but there is nothing more that I can tell you!"
The desperation and panic in the man's voice was all that Batman needed to hear to convince him that the man was telling the truth. The lack of pertinent information was a bit disconcerting but it wasn't the least bit surprising. Wanting nothing more to do with the waste of oxygen in his grasp, Batman hastily straightened and flexed the muscles in the middle and index fingers of his right hand and used them to strike a rarely known blood vessel between the lower neck and the collarbone. The effects of the nerve strike were near instantaneous and the prisoner tumbled limply to the ground in no time at all.
Nightwing watched the man's fall and took a moment to stare dully at the unfortunate fellow before taking another hearty bite from his apple. "Okay. So we're looking for a building in Berlin. That narrows it down."
"It's enough information for Noah and I to begin to ferret out the cover operations and key in on what we need to find."
"I still don't see why we're doing this right now. We're going to be back in Gotham in two days. Why don't we just take this problem on when we're at full strength?"
"It seems rather obvious that we didn't have any trouble doing what we needed to do here," Batman pointed out. "Besides, my responsibilities with the Parisian branch of Wayne Enterprises gave us an avenue and an opportunity to conduct this investigation that would have been very difficult to find otherwise."
"Ah, and speaking of the fact that we've spent the last six days in the City of Lights and Over-Priced Food. . ."
Batman interrupted Nightwing's words with an annoyed grunt before attempting to stride away from his inquisitive former protégé. Unfortunately for the beleaguered elder crime fighter, it was little trouble at all for Nightwing to rush forward and block the older man's path before continuing with his query.
"Just tell me why we've spent almost all of the last year away from Gotham? Why didn't we just stay after we brought Arrowette to the manor?"
"Why have you continued to stay with me if you're so worried about Gotham?"
"You've got a real knack for ignoring my questions by asking some of your own," Nightwing pointed out. "And to answer your question, the reason I've continued to go along you're your little David Carradine-like pilgrimage is that I'm worried a lot more about you than about Gotham or Bludhaven. Noah and the little weirdos can handle that end. It's my job to figure out what's got into you."
"You know, Nightwing. Most people would not consider a three-month long session of intensive martial arts training alongside the world's most renowned martial artists to be a holiday."
"You would. Oh, and by the way, you're still dodging my original question."
"Do you honestly want this truth, Nightwing? Do you want to know how frightened I am of what may happen when I return to Gotham and how I'm supposed to deal with what I'll have to deal with when I return home? Because when I go back home there are going to be questions waiting there for my arrival; questions that I have spent many a sleepless night trying to answer and never even coming close to succeeding. So, before you continue your incessant needling, kindly take the effort to put yourself in my shoes and recognize the fact that I don't have all the answers!"
Not surprisingly, Nightwing needed some time to reply to such an impassioned statement. Seeing his ward's hesitance, Batman continued to speak his mind.
"So much has changed, Nightwing."
Nightwing realized that this was something he was going to have to work hard to get used to. It was still discomforting to see such a raw display of naked emotion from the man who taught him to be stoic and unwavering in the midst of stress and strain that most would deem unbearable. Dick knew he would not only have to learn how to deal with his father's latest emotional development but would also have to learn how to respond in kind.
"I'm pretty scared too, dad."
Yeah, maybe it wasn't the best way to respond but it was the best that he could muster under the circumstances.
He was new at this after all.
Gotham City
Noah Kuttler found himself to be quite bored and disappointed with the new information that Bruce had supplied to him in regards of their most recent quarry. This ennui was quick to give way to a desire to seek a sight of greater interest and it didn't take a great deal of trouble on is part to find it.
Lloyd was sitting cross-legged in one of the more well-lighted crooks of the Batcave. Using his telepathy to keep his entire body hovering several feet above the cold rock of the cavern, the young man was on the verge of completing his nightly round of meditation. Ambient streaks of black and golden energy clustered and floated around him as Lloyd worked in silence to collect his wayward thoughts. It was an exercise that he employed in order to better control the immense reserves of energy stored within his body. Though the environment around him looked to be quite hectic, the near absolute lack of tension around Lloyd's eyes and the absolute stillness of his body made the young man look as if he were the picture of serenity.
Despite his tranquility, Lloyd was quite aware enough of his surroundings to feel Noah's eyes upon him. He slowly opened his left eye and stared back at the older man. "Need me for somethin', Kuttler?"
Noah would have felt quite chagrined under most circumstances but the relaxed expression on Lloyd's face clearly indicated that the younger man took no affront. "My apologies, Lloyd. Your subconscious light show can be quite engrossing when the only other competition for attention is a smattering of information that is most likely to prompt a quixotic perusal of the backwaters of the Western European countryside."
Lloyd sighed as he slowly broke from the lotus position and placed his feet back on the ground. The spheres and streams of energy cascading around him began to combine together and were quickly reintegrated with Lloyd's body. The young man patiently turned his neck from side-to-side in order to stretch out a kink that had been bugging him for the last half hour.
"Quixotic perusal, eh? Bloody hell, hacker man. We need to get you off those ten pound sentences. Could drive a bloke daffy with all that high-meanin' nonsense."
"Well, you'll pardon me if I cannot quite mimic the truly exquisite tones and literary vernacular of a North London street punk leaving the pub in the early morning hours. However, perhaps you may be interested in what our good leader has winged our way."
Lloyd raised his thin eyebrows to showcase his possible interest. "Is it got to do with those blokes with the tats we've been lookin' out for the past month?"
"Indeed it does," Noah replied as he turned his seat so he could look at his monitor without craning his neck. "Batman and Nightwing took it upon themselves to bring an end to shut down that facility in Paris that you and Stephanie had identified several days ago."
Lloyd showcased his frustration with his boss's impatience with a sour grimace. "Any reason why Grayson and The Boss just couldn't wait for us to be available so we could back them up?"
Noah shook his head knowingly. Enduring the impatience of his associates had been a practice that the hacker had grown quite experienced with in the past months but it always helped to have someone to share in the frustration. "None that can be determined by a rational mind," Noah replied calmly. "The ruffians that Batman and Nightwing managed to incapacitate had none of the markings that we have been able to link with this mysterious little organization that we have been tracking for the last several months. Fortunately, one of Batman and Nightwing's detainees was gracious enough to reveal that his employer also had a facility in the Berlin industrial district. Our gracious employer has put it upon me to investigate the matter."
Lloyd nodded at Noah's statements but his eyes clearly indicated that he didn't expect a great deal to come of it. "'S the definition of a bleedin' wild goose chase, Kuttler. Everyone we've collared that has these markings say they don't know how they got it, why they had it, or why they were doing what they were doing when we caught 'em. There isn't one whit of technology behind it so you can't trace it and if it's got somethin' to do with magic then whoever did it 's doin' a good job of hidin' it 'cause Steph and I haven't been able to find anything either."
"Yes, it is quite the confounding conundrum," Noah replied. "Perhaps this latest tidbit of information will shed a bit of illumination upon this matter."
Lloyd replied to Noah's optimism with a significant snort that was not quite appropriate for the present circumstances. "I doubt it. If so few people were there than I can't imagine this place was too bloody important. I'll wager dollars to doughnuts that says whatever's in Berlin will just be another dead end that's more trouble then it's worth as well."
The Calculator quickly swerved his seat around to look at Lloyd directly. "Are you all right, Lloyd? I can't imagine that your frustration can be fully attributed by this matter?"
Lloyd countered Noah's knowing glance with one of his own. The fact that he had reacted in such a manner caused him to add a bit of a smirk to his countenance. "Pretty fancy way of sayin' I'm distracted, mate. Well, the truth of it is I'm a little worried about Zo'rel."
"Ah, yes," Noah said, his tone brightening significantly. "And just what ails of our resident amiable, memory-starved Kryptonian bring you such troubles?"
"She had another episode today during training."
That blunt admission quickly put an end to Noah's joviality. An "episode" was Lloyd's rather improper definition of Kara's intermittent tendency to react to stressful situations with bouts of violent emotions. Noah had been quite astute to discover that most of these situations centered around Kara remembering some remnant of her forgotten past on Krypton and was secretly quite eager to discover the extenuating circumstance behind it all once Batman returned. Although Noah often found Lloyd's preoccupation with Kara's well-being to be somewhat amusing, he couldn't deny the serious dangers behind the young woman's outbursts.
"That's the first she's had in over three months." Noah unnecessarily pointed out. "What do you think could have caused it?"
"You know the cause as well as I do, Kuttler. Some buggered up memory in the back part of her mind dug its way in at the wrong time." Lloyd bitterly turned away from Noah's gaze and began to pace with a very Batman-like gait to his step. "Bloody hell. We've been dodgin' this bullet before but we've got to convince the chit to start lookin' into her past. Steph's been runnin' herself ragged trying to convince Kara to figure this all out."
Noah couldn't help but recognize that Lloyd had not so subtly refused to acknowledge his own efforts into helping restore Kara's memory. However, he was also wise enough not to point that out to the fuming young man. "Perhaps you should continue with your telepathic investigations? Perhaps when Batman returns. . ."
Lloyd cut off Noah with a swift turn and a shake of his head. "It does no good, Kuttler. Whatever is locked back there in Kara's mind isn't something that I'm going to be able to find. Besides, it doesn't take Sherlock bleedin' Holmes to realize that Zo'rel isn't that keen on me or anyone else pokin' about in her noggin."
"Which is why I believe we should wait until Batman returns," Noah replied calmly. "It's quite apparent that his opinions mean a great deal to Kara. Perhaps he would be best suited to convince Kara of the importance of discovering her lost memories rather than attempting to repress them."
Lloyd sighed wearily. The part of him that wanted so hard to be a leader chafed at the idea of handing off something to another person but that same part of him also saw the wisdom in the idea. "I hope so, mate. Still, somethin' tells me that it's not gonna be me or J'onn or anyone else other than Kara that can figure out what's goin' on. She may have given up on finding out about her past for now but there's gonna come a time when she'll want to know. She'll want to know more than anything else in this world and that may very well put is into trouble. After all, when people are searching for something important they tend to grow the habit of listening to anybody who might be able to give 'em a halfway decent answer."
Kara observed the three noisy girls chattering away, each of them oblivious to the world around them.
Throughout the past year and during the past travels she had made, Kara had begun to notice that selective attention was a rather common trend everywhere she went. No matter how relaxed or how strict the landscape or societal climate of the places she visited, the concept of privacy was something that could be either an utmost principle or something that was absolutely worthless. It all depended upon the situation.
"Can you believe that girl?" One of the girls asked the others.
"I know! Talk about impulse control problems," another replied. "She must be on something because there is no way that somebody could be that much of a bitch on her own."
The three girls all giggled as one. Kara found the spontaneous display of shared humor to be phenomenally nauseating and part of her began to yearn to force herself away from the conversation but she subdued her instincts and continued to listen in.
"I mean, just because she's got the rich and famous dad and she was born into a life of luxury doesn't mean that she can treat everybody like the scum underneath her shoes."
"The House of El has always been a bunch of elitist snobs. I'd like to see Kara Zo'rel have to live the lives that we middle-class Kryptonians have to put up with."
Kara raised her perfectly groomed left eyebrow.
"Bet she doesn't have a thought in that pretty little head of hers."
Kara crossed her arms over her chest while the bridge of her nose grew creased.
"Nothing but a violent, little brat."
Kara was beside the three chattering Kryptonians in the blink of an eye. Her shining, white teeth were on full display as she stared the startled girls down with a predator's smile. A live-action display of the fight-or-flight reflex was now upon full display and each of the gossipers were horribly transfixed by the glow of Kara's crimson eyes.
"Hello there, ladies," Kara said quickly before bringing back that awful grin. "Y'know, it's not nice to talk about people behind their backs."
She gleefully swung her arms around the quivering shoulders of one of the teenage girls. One of her classmates.
"Because if somebody hears you talking about someone else and that someone else finds out about it then that's just going to lead to a whole lot of uncomfortable situations."
Kara calmly looked from one nervous face to another to another in order to find someone who might back her up on what she considered to be a very valid bit of knowledge. It didn't appear to perturb Kara in the least that none of the three terrified adolescents were quite capable of replying. She quickly decided to continue on with her conversation as she leaned in closer to the girl she held with her right arm and spoke to her in a whisper.
"Would you like another example of an uncomfortable situation?"
Kara's burst of heat vision burned through the girl's ear canal and cut through her cranium. The other girls gave off some wonderful hideous shrieks as their friend crumpled to the ground. Their paralyzing fear quickly gave in to panic and they ran off in opposite directions.
Kara went for the one that had called her an elitist snob first. She took to the sky and closed in on the panicked girl with ridiculous ease. Snagging her painfully by the hair, Kara almost chuckled at the screeching off the girl as she rushed to catch up with the other fleeing simpleton; the one that had called her a violent, little brat. Within moments she had once again ensnared her captive audience.
"My father is always telling me that you low-class filth only have half a brain cell in your underdeveloped skulls," Kara said contemptuously as she held the squirming girls in her tightly clenched hands. Her eyes were no longer glowing red but the cold stare in her unbearably blue eyes was equally frightening. "My dad always ridiculed you but I always thought it was awful to have to go through life without a single neuron to call your own. So, out of the goodness of my heart, I'm going to do what I can to remedy your pathetic lot in life."
Kara put her two hands together with all the force she could muster. The heads of the two girls came together with a sickeningly wet crack and Kara could feel the spray of blood and gray matter splashing onto her face and clothing. The displeasure that came with the fact that she had ruined one of her favorite outfits was enough to convince her to ram the shattered skulls of her two victims together once again. The squelching sound that always comes about when handling mashed muscle and skin soaked with blood ran sweetly through Kara's ears before she finally dumped the two corpses down onto the sidewalk.
As she casually wiped away the dripping blood from her forehead she searched the eyes of the Kryptonians around her. She took in the anger and the outrage and the paralyzing fear that radiated off the commonplace sacks of meat and smiled in satisfaction.
This was Kara Zo'rel. A heady mishmash of a young woman that sported an abundance of youthful arrogance, precious little in the ways of empathy or mercy, and enough power and intelligence to recognize the fact that she was capable of doing anything she desired and did not have the slightest of repercussions to burden her.
The Kara Zo'rel of the present observed the monster before her and shuddered.
This is who I was.
And another voice interrupted her.
No, this is who you should be. This is who you WILL be!
Kara woke from her dream with a horrified scream and a clumsy, backhanded swipe of her right arm that nearly knocked Alfred Pennyworth's head off his shoulders. Still, despite this highly unusual brush with death, the caretaker of Wayne Manor remained remarkably set upon his task. "My word, Miss Kara! Are you all right? Should I contact Master Lloyd?"
Kara found that she wasn't quite yet capable of forming a coherent reply. She could feel the rivulets of sweat sliding down her temples and she thought the hammering beats of her heart were far too loud for her liking. She shut her eyes as forcibly as she could and hastily ran through the relaxation exercises that Bruce and Lloyd had been teaching her. As her breathing began to slow and thicken and the pulsing of the blood in her veins began to lessen, her nose picked up the lingering scent of the seafood risotto that Alfred had fixed for dinner. The feeling of gratefulness that came about from recognizing that the aged butler was patient enough to allow her the time to recollect herself soothed her and Kara soon turned to Alfred and gave him a thin smile.
"No, that's okay. I was just having a hard time sleeping. It's almost sunrise and I don't want to disturb anyone."
It didn't take much effort at all for Alfred to read the look in Kara's eyes and what he found was enough to convince him to try another track of persuasion. "Master Lloyd is still speaking with Master Noah in the Batcave, Miss Kara. I assure you that you would be disturbing no one."
Kara absently swept back a few unruly locks of hair that had strayed in front of her face while she slept. "Thank you, Alfred, but I'll be fine. It was just another nightmare. I'm more worried about you. I could have just killed you."
Alfred scoffed at the very logical notion. "My dear, I have awakened a great many cantankerous and/or thrashing lads and lasses in my day and this instance was hardly the most perilous situation of this kind that I have encountered. Any one of the instances when I was forced to rouse Master Dick after a night-long round of drunken carousing with Mister Harper and Mister West, for example, has put far more gray hairs upon my brow than this instance."
Kara knew that it would have been polite to laugh at Alfred's attempts to comfort her but she couldn't work herself up to it. She found it unbearably hard to smile when she felt as if she could still smell the blood and viscera upon her hands.
"That's all right, Alfred. I'll just try and get back to sleep. I'm sure after a couple of hours rest I'll be as right as rain. I'm sorry to have woken you."
The butler took a moment to examine the cheerful and reassuring look on Kara's face. Her smile was always radiant but this one was far too bright to be real. Her lean cheekbones were just a smidgen too high and the glimmer in her blue eyes that was there when Kara was truly happy was nowhere to be found. Alfred had long since realized that this was Kara's way. It was her habit to cover up the painful emotions that were welling up within her by smiling so brightly that it was nearly impossible to suspect that anything was wrong. The young lady had grown so sufficient with maintaining this façade that it took a truly trained eye to spot it.
After a great deal of private introspection, Alfred Pennyworth discovered that he had no desire to force Kara to speak when she was clearly not prepared to do so. After all, it was quite ungentlemanly to ask a young woman to do such a thing. Instead, he calmly advised Kara to speak with Lloyd and the others in the morning and offered to bring her a glass of warm milk. Kara agreed to the request quite happily and soon Alfred was quietly padding down to the kitchen area.
It took only a moment or two for Alfred to prepare the water he needed to heat the milk to the temperature he desired. He felt a glint of pride when he remembered Kara's penchant for adding cinnamon to her milk at the breakfast table and made certain to add a smattering of it before returning upstairs with the bedtime treat. Despite his efforts, it didn't surprise him at all to see that Miss Kara was sound asleep when he arrived and he didn't feel the least bit offended. After all, it wasn't his job to complain about several wasted minutes of late-night kitchen duty. It was his job to make certain that the people he looked after could spend the few hours they had away from the dangerous world around them in a place of comfort and stability. If Miss Kara was capable of finding that on her own then who was he to stop her?
Misfits Confidential
Welllllllllllll. Okay! It looks like I've got a bit of guilt to express. Sorry if I left any of my loyal readers in suspense over the past nine weeks or so. On the other hand, a big reason behind the long absence is that I put a great deal of time and effort into editing and reposting the previous chapters. If you're a big fan of this series (and I have to presume you are if you've willingly chosen to read for this long) then I strongly recommend that you take a look at the previous chapters. They're a lot better. Trust me.
There have been a great many of changes in my life. A whole lot of new things have come about, a lot of old things have fallen by the way side, and it's taken me a bit of time to adjust to it all. That being said, I'm happy to say that The Misfits remains to be one of those things that I'm choosing to stick with. I can't guarantee on weekly updates but I can guarantee that the stuff I do present to you will be of far greater quality than what I produced before. I'm still cringing at all the grammatical errors I made in the first novel. (Fights back the urge to shudder).
Hope everybody liked the inclusion of Arrowette in the cast and I hope this chapter paved the way towards answering the question of how in the hell she got to Gotham. My idea to add Cissie came from the voting we did back in October between Nightwing, Green Arrow, and Arsenal. If Green Arrow got the nod it would have been Mia Dearden firing that arrow. If Arsenal was voted in then it would have been poor little Lian to nearly get her head knocked off by Kara. See? And you think I just write this stuff on the fly, Rachel!
Okay! I'm off my soapbox. Thanks for reading and I hope you review. And now, without further a due, here's a chapter preview! Revel in my capacity to rhyme! That is, of course, if you still have the time!
Issue #30 Preview
So Batman and Nightwing are trompin' around Europe looking for guys with tattoos, Cissie and Steph are kicking ass and taking names on the streets of Gotham, Kara is having nightmares about committing grisly acts of murder, and Lloyd and Noah are trying to figure out what the hell is going on with everybody. Will a sliver of light be shined upon these burgeoning mysteries in the next issue? Well, probably not. Still, that shouldn't stop you from reading the next installment of the Misfits: Paranoia Escalation. Until then, remember to say what you think and write what you feel.
