"But this torch that I found
It's gotta be drowned
Or it soon might explode
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road"
Frank Sinatra, "One For My Baby"
…..
Starfire returned the next day. I had been revolving around the door of sleep and dazed consciousness, and I was more than happy to let her take over Dick's vigil. Not because I didn't want to be there when he woke up, but because I figured he'd want to be surrounded by his reasons for living when he did, not a reminder that he could have died.
Kori brought news with her. The Justice League, which had been disbanded a year before I was kidnapped, barely had a consciousness.
Superman had been operating alone, fighting the global good fight in Ukraine. He was easiest to track down. Flash wasn't in Central City, but Iris Allen was available to pass on the info that her husband was on a mission in time. Something about fighting himself. The trip to Paradise Island was difficult, but even more difficult was convincing Diana to return to the world of man. In the end, it proved useless. Even with the threat of Luthor becoming President, she wouldn't leave her island. It was a shame; I always looked up to her. Martian Manhunter was still masquerading as a detective, and seemed content to stay that way. He had his doubts, J'onn. He didn't think the JLA would reorganize itself. Hal Jordan was beyond our reach, and beyond our help. John Stewart was the closest Lantern, and he agreed to help if the situation arose, but he was wary like the rest of them.
It was no secret who they were waiting for. But from what Alfred's told me, the old man isn't coming home anytime soon. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself. I forced myself not to think about him on the drive back to the firehouse, and did my best to strike up a conversation with the quiet girl in the passenger's seat.
"How are you?" The question always seemed simpler in my head.
She was wearing a shirt of Kori's, three sizes too big and it fit like a dress, barely covering her shorts. She'd had a shower, as had I. I wore a spare pair of jeans and a black v-neck, sandals Dick wasn't using. The Clocktower was a bunkhouse of sorts. Her hair was tied up in a bun, her bangs pinned back. Her hands were trapped between her thighs, fingers clasped. "...I got an email from Lois Lane before I left. Offered me a job."
I flashed a small smile, pushed it on my face like it walked the plank before the sharks came. "That's great, sunshine. Metropolis is safe."
Her eyes snapped over to mine and I hated how the light was red, giving me no choice but to meet them. "I don't want to leave Gotham."
"It isn't safe for you here," I ran a hand through my hair. The last thing I wanted to do right now was argue. "I'm not safe for you. Not now, not ever."
Abigail's blonde eyebrows knit. "You're blaming yourself. You think you pushed me too far, you think you made me kill Falcone, like you expected me to and that's why-"
"-is it?" I stared at her hard, dared her to lie to me. "Did I make you do something you couldn't come back from?"
"I was a murderer before I met you."
"Accident." I corrected, "At your mom's place, that was an accident. You said so yourself. He made move and you shot him."
"It was an accident, but I still killed someone, Jason. I still asked Bullock to cover it up for me."
The light went green and I moved further into Old Gotham. "Self defense if you asked me."
"Premeditated self defense," Gail sighed, "...You didn't make me do anything yesterday. Everything I did, I did because I wanted to. I needed to...Just like I need to go down this new path."
"...What new path?" I glanced over at her, and she had her head back against her seat, just breathing. Steady as the night I met her.
"When I was fighting by your side, by Dick and Tim's sides...it felt amazing…" She sighed again, the tiniest of smiles. "I wanted to help people. From the beginning, I wanted to give people a way to make sense of what happened to them. I thought philosophy and papers and education and speeches could do that. But what we did in City Hall yesterday? That made a difference. More than anything."
My heart lodged itself in my throat, and I took a hand off the wheel to hold hers. I wanted so badly to give this to her. "Sunshine, it's too dangerous. I'm not kidding. You don't want a suit. Trust me."
"I know it's dangerous, but...I want to help," Gail insisted, gripping my hand. "Jason, I don't want to go. I don't want some desk job in a squeaky clean city. I want to stay where I was raised. Where I know people."
"So what? You can end up dead in a ditch when I fail you - again?" I tried to let go of her, but she kept me in her fingers. "I'm not turning into Bruce for you to turn into another me. It won't happen, Abigail."
Her hand finally loosened and I pulled my hand away. She let me. I squeezed the car through the hole in my engine bay door. Anyone who stole from here would have it melt in their hands about now.
She didn't get out right away. I was already out of the car and had my foot on the first step on the staircase, when she got out and slammed the door. "Jason, I don't want to go."
Something in me broke, and swung free as I whirled. I stalked up to her and said, my eyes bored into hers. "I want you to go…" I stepped back when she glared at me, mouth open. I jerked a thumb over my shoulder, looked away. "Pack your shit. I want you out of here. My life has been a mess, a damned horror show since I dragged you in it, and I trained you because it was practical. I let you live here because it was practical. You had information, we needed information. I shouldn't have let my feelings get involved. It entangled everything and I've been tripping over you ever since."
Gail flinched like I'd slapped her, and her hands balled up into fists. I wished she'd use them. It would feel better than this. She said, "You're saying this to be cruel so I'll leave. Like when we met. You're taking steps backwards."
"Maybe we need to go back." I pushed my bruised knuckles into my pockets, my hair in my eyes. "Go back to being strangers. Or at least to indifferent acquaintances...C'mon, I'll help you pack." I turned my back a second too late to avoid seeing the sting on her face. I started up the stairs. "I'm tired of getting my hopes up on something that was a bad idea to start with."
I heard her say behind me, "Sorry for saving your life."
The knife in my chest dug an inch deeper. She always knew how to bring the pain. She was close enough to do it. So was I.
"Me too."
…..
She didn't cry the entire time we packed her things, not a single tear, but I did. I just refused to let her see it. I told her I was going to check my computer room for any of her stuff, but the minute I sat in my chair, I doubled over, my arms around my stomach, my forehead against the desk, and let it start. The tears rolled down my crooked nose, pattered to the floor.
I made this decision. I made it a long time ago. I reached into the right hand drawer and pulled out a envelope. The envelope she would've found if she had gone through my things in the event of my death. It was a simple orange envelope with A.B. written on the front, her initials. I set it on my desk, and ran my knuckles over my cheeks. I sniffed, and coughed. I'd give it to her when she left.
I went back to her in the records room, and I asked her what she wanted to do with the records, her turntable. I offered to have them hauled in trucks to wherever she was going to live in Metropolis. She took one look at me, and she knew. She knew I'd cried.
"You keep them," I tried to argue, but she shook her head. "Don't. When I started living here, I always thought it was too quiet. Too quiet to think, even. At first, I thought it was the place...But no…" She slid her hands into her back pockets. "It's you. I want you to keep them. Maybe you'll think of me while you're here."
"Ever think that's why I don't want to keep them?" I asked, but I knew she wouldn't budge. "Fine. I'll keep them. For you."
She patted my elbow as she passed, and it took everything in me not to spin her around. I knew as soon as she was gone, I needed to change where I hung my hat. But I would keep the records. I'd keep them for her. I'd clean them and listen to them. Think about those nights we listened to them while I braided her hair when she couldn't sleep.
I knew that from here on out, I'd be listening to them alone when I couldn't sleep.
….
The rest of the day was spent packing. Abigail didn't have many things, it just consumed time to pack up a friendship in suitcases, a bit longer to pack up something more. Every one of her books I would mail to her new residence as soon as I had her address.
"You're going to write me, aren't you?" She asked as I picked up the first bags to put in the trunk of her car. Her hair was braided, and she wore a pair of my sweats I didn't have the heart to ask her to return, along with the same Gotham U jersey she wore when I met her.
"Unless I pay Kori to ferry them back and forth, I can't run the risk of the messages being traced either way." I clenched my fists around the straps of her bags. "I'm sorry. You know I would."
"It's okay…" She sighed, and we began the assembly line. She'd take them to the top of the stairs, and I'd carry them to the trunk. She kept trying to meet my eye as I walked up, but my gaze stayed down. I needed to watch my step for more than the creaky floorboards.
"Text me?" She asked on the fourth trip, when there were just her carry-ons.
I shook my head. "Need to change my numbers. Going underground for a while. Most of the police department has seen my face now. This place will be crawling with cops within the week. I'll be bleaching it after I haul my things out…"
"Oh."
I shrugged as she went ahead of me down the stairs, and the folded envelope in my inner jacket pocket felt heavier. I knew what she was thinking.
She was thinking about the stain on the kitchen wall. One night we'd been cooking dinner and in the midst of her dancing to Chicago, she'd flung pasta sauce onto the wall. No amount of cleaner got it out, as much as I tried and teased her about ruining the plaster.
She was thinking about the books, where we fell asleep with novels on our faces and some nights, holding hands.
She was thinking about the very end of the hall, the door with the thousands of knicks in it where we practiced knife-throwing at fifteen, twenty, thirty paces.
Eyes on the target, Todd.
What for? I can look at you and throw at the same time.
I remembered how that knife sang, and how big she grinned. She was thinking about it all, wasn't she?
Her finger was running along the banister of the staircase. We'd repainted it together, discussing everything under the sun. We talked about how many real life Wickhams we knew, how few Gatsbys were around to throw lavish parties, and how many Jekylls and Hydes we must walk past in a day. She thought This Side of Paradise was gorgeous, and I thought she was too. I could still see the paint stains on the side of her thumb.
With the rest of the car so full, the carry-ons had to go on her lap for the trip. She tried to move to the driver's side, but I held my hand out, as I had so many times, for her keys. I managed a small smile, my voice soft. "One last time. I'll drive you."
She bit her lip, and then turned to go around. I slid into her driver's seat. She took a few seconds more to get into the car, but her cheeks were shining when she did. I backed the car out through the hole in the engine bay, and made my way to Bernard Kane Memorial Airport. It wasn't nearly as crowded as Gotham International, so it should be fine. I already had her ticket in my pocket. First class. The pilot owed me a favor, and I called it in.
Without looking at her, I reached for her hand on the console and weaved our hands together. She peeked at me sideways, sniffing as she wiped her face.
"Y'know, you promised me on that gargoyle…" Her thumb rubbed the side of mine. "That you wouldn't let me walk out again."
I lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. Some of the scars there were from my teeth when we sparred. She always knew where to hit me hardest. "I told you I wouldn't let you walk out, not that I wouldn't help you leave...I also promised to keep you safe. That I'd look after you."
"...You sending me to another city doesn't guarantee my safety. It only pisses me off. Burglar could just as easily pick me off."
I laughed against her skin. "I pity the damn fool that tried to rob you, sunshine."
"Not the point." She turned her hand in mine, and her palm rested against my branded cheek. "I want to stay here, Jason. I want to stay with you."
"Abigail," I looked over at her and met her eyes. "...You know as well as I do that Gotham's only going to get worse from here, and with the massive target on my back now, nobody's going to give a damn about going through you to get to me. If Falcone can pick out how much I…" I stopped myself and amended the truth. "...how much I care about you, then so can Talia. Or Joker. Or anyone else."
"I know…" Her breath caught as I kissed her palm, my stubble against her wrist. "Doesn't mean I like it, Jay."
"You've made that much clear." I went back to holding her hand, my mouth dry. "I don't like it either...But think about it this way," I tried to loosen my grip on her hand, hers on mine tight, but I couldn't do it. "You'll meet somebody out there, somebody who isn't complicated and wants to be with you." As much as I do, unlikely. "Who knows? I don't. I don't know shit. But hey, it might happen. It probably will happen."
Gail looked over at me with wide eyes, and her mouth open. Half anger, half hurt. She jerked her hand away from mine. "...I'm not going on a vacation. I'm not going on a cruise. I'm not going on a speed dating event. I'm going to Metropolis for a job that I didn't even earn, to work for a woman that is engaged to Superman, because the one man I trust more than anything won't let me near him. Won't let me help him or be close to him. So don't treat it like I chose this. Or so help me, Jason, I'll hijack this car right from under you and turn around. I'm doing this for you. So that you will be safe and you can do the work that I still believe you can do."
Each word slammed into me like machine gun fire, my chest feeling full of holes and her. "Murphy's Law. I'm talking about Murphy's Law. Anything that can happen, will happen. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."
She threw her hands up, and glared out the window. I growled and wheeled the car into an alley, shut it off. I grabbed her shoulder and made her face me. "Look at me. I'm not doing this to hurt you, okay? I'm not sending you to Metropolis because I don't want you here. I'm not kicking you out, I'm helping you make a life someplace where public sphere violence is a backburner concern. I'm sending you someplace where the vigilantes are bulletproof and can lift buildings off you. And there's more than one of 'em."
I cupped her face in my hands, and I watched her eyes well. I felt my own do the same. "You think I want you scared, Wednesday? You think I want you out there in a big beautiful city like that, worrying incessantly about me and what I'm doing that you ain't living at all? No." I shook my head, my eyes closing before I put my forehead to hers. "I want you happy, honey. I want you smiling ear to ear, laughing so hard you're cryin' because you don't have a care in the world. As much as I want what you're laughing at to be me...at the end of the day, I don't care who it is. I don't care if it isn't me. I care that you're alive. If you're alive, I'm alive."
Right there in my hands, she broke. She clenched her teeth, and as soon as the harsh sobs raced up her throat, so did mine. I reclined my seat back, and she climbed over the console. Just like on that gargoyle, she laid on me as I wrapped my arms around her. I cried into her hair, shaking us both with every breath. She balled my shirt in her hands, her face against my neck. I ran my fingers through her hair, the last time I'd get the chance, and she yanked the tie off so they fell around her face. The soft, blonde strands I braided when she got upset, knowing it calmed me too.
"I don't wanna go yet," She mumbled, her fingers in my hair and running over my scars. "I don't wanna go yet. Can we stay here? Please?"
"We d-don't have t-t-to go yet," I stammered, holding her closer to me.
Like anxious kids, after we cried, we slept for at least an hour. I woke up before her, the sky fully dark. I'd normally be suiting up for my shift, but my mind was far from that. I laid there, my arms around her, and just smelled her hair. I twirled strands around my fingers and worked any tangles gone. I calmed down, and my eyes were raw and red. Hers were too once she woke.
Gail stumbled as she reseated herself, and I fixed my seat back upright. She kept my hand as we pulled out of the alley.
…
Bernard Kane Memorial was almost deserted at midnight. Nobody but the sleepy attendants were there, and the terminals were somewhat empty. I got her tickets checked in, and security checked us both. I didn't take guns with me on this trip. This was one errand I wanted to run disarmed entirely. I didn't need armor with her.
I didn't know how to say goodbye to a friend. I'd never had one before. The others grew on me, liked me before I liked them. They attached the strings, but I'd never had to cut any. I didn't cut my string to Bruce, Joker did.
But there she was, standing with her carry-ons by her feet. She and I were both looking at the floor, close enough to feel her breath on my hands as I held out the envelope between us.
"Do me a favor?" I asked her, chewing the inside of my cheek.
She drew in a slow breath. "Sure. What is it?"
"Open this when you're on the plane. Inside you'll find a CD, a note, and some other things. I've stashed my CD player at the very bottom of your small carry-on, earbuds too. Don't open it before you get on the plane, open it once you've taken off. Listen to the CD while you read the note, they go together."
She didn't bother to argue. She folded it and stuck it into the pocket of the sweats she'd borrowed. "Parting gift?"
"Something like that."
She quirked a half-smile. "Always the mystery man."
"Always so damn nosy." I smiled back, though her red-rimmed eyes betrayed what guise of a happy goodbye this might have looked to anyone watching. She had refused to let my hand go, save for security checks, since we arrived. I lifted it again to kiss her knuckles. "Have a safe trip."
"...Jason?" Her voice was so tiny, like it was the little Wednesday Winters with pigtails I'd imagined asking me.
"Yeah?"
Gail bit her lower lip. "We're still going to be friends, right?"
My mouth curled into a frown, and I reached out to grab her by the shoulders. I pulled her into my chest, and forced the wax in my throat down. She wrapped her arms around my hips. I told her in her ear, "Yeah, Gail. We're always gonna be friends."
"Doesn't matter where we are, huh?"
"Not at all." I agreed, before I released her and made myself step backwards. I shoved my hands in my pockets and smiled. "Doesn't matter where we are, we're going to be friends."
"Best friends." She said, but didn't return the smile. She picked up her bags, her eyes on mine before she turned her back.
She walked slowly, my heart in my throat, and I knew she wanted me to stop her.
I daydreamed about how it might go.
I'd jog - no. I'd run to her.
She'd drop her bags when I picked her up. I'd hold her so close to me it'd be like I was trying to merge our chests together. I'd have my hand in her hair when I kissed her. I'd kiss her and beg her not to go, tell her I'd changed my mind and I'd die before I let her go.
But it didn't happen. She realized I wasn't going to go after her, too. And she was walking at a steady gait when she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.
The warmth in me sapped through the floor, before I left the airport.
…
Her nails tore open the envelope smoothly, and the contents spilled out over the food tray she'd pulled down. Two thick wads of cash came first, and she sighed.
What was it with the people she loved sneaking money to her?
She flipped the cash over in her hands. Had to be at least fifteen grand there. A folded piece of paper fluttered down, and then the CD. She fished through her bag for the CD player and set up her earbuds. The CD was white, with black Sharpie scrawled in Jason's handwriting. Everything I Almost Told You.
The first song started with piano, and Gail, having introduced him to it in the first place, choked up. She put her hand over her mouth, and opened the note.
Sunshine,
If you're reading this, one of two things has happened: either I died saving you and you've found this note, or I succeeded in getting you out of Gotham after everything was done. It doesn't matter which. Not really.
I'm writing this as you're sleeping, right next to you, actually. You breathe so slightly that I sometimes have to stare to make sure you still are breathing. You're beautiful, Abigail. God, you're beautiful. And you're smart, and you make me laugh when I don't want to. You're just. Sometimes I think my moral compass points to you because you're the true north I never found on my own. Sometimes I know you're one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
When I look at you, I see the girl that saved me from bleeding out, and I see the girl who laid my secrets out like killing tools. And I'm in love with her. I'm in love with you, Gail. Head over heels, ass over teacups, I'm in love with you. I want to shout it sometimes, even though everybody knows it.
I want to kiss you. Desperately, constantly, and inconveniently. Every time you've said my name while I'm looking right at you and didn't hear you, that's what I've been thinking about. And it ruins me something fierce to know that I'd be sealing your death wish if I ever did. Because then I wouldn't be able to stop. I'd close my eyes, and already, we'd be knee-deep in it.
I wanted to be a better man for you. I wanted to hang up the hood. I wanted to lock all of it in a treasure trove of blood and never look at it again. Never hunger for it again, because as long as you'd be with me, I wouldn't need it to feel anything like I did. I wanted to make sure you never cried for something I could control going to hell. I wanted to make sure that you got a ring and a wedding someday with people to show up, enough people to fill the room. I wanted to make damn sure you were okay. Believe me, sunshine, I did and do want that. I'll want it for the rest of my life.
But as long as the mission lives, I have to fight for it. I'm pulling a Bruce here and Jesus, do I hate it, but I'm starting to see what he was trying to do. As long as the objective is clear, I have to fight. So that kids like you and me never go alone or hungry ever again, or end up dead. So that parents don't have to die for justice. So cops can do their jobs.
You told me once that even though I did a terrible thing as the Arkham Knight, that you believed in me. You told me that yeah, I might be hurting now, but it'd be for something good later on. You believed I could get better, and I have, but I've still got so much work to do. I have so much, and the temptation to give up is huge, but...if I'm half the man that deserves you when I finally die, it'll be worth it.
Yours,
Jason
Gail straightened in her seat and raised her face to the roof of the plane. She re-read his name over and over, as she listened to the lyrics of the song. She mouthed them, the tears threatening her eyes again.
"We're drinking my friend, to the end...Of a brief episode...Make it one for my baby...And one more for the road."
She sucked in a breath. "Dammit, Jason."
….
I thought I'd be relieved, but I wasn't. I thought I'd be glad she was safe, but all I could think about was how soft her hair felt. I shook my head until I was dizzy, and leaned against the elevator. Barb texted me that Dick had woken up while Kori was watching him. Instead of heading back to an empty firehouse, I made a left and made for the Clocktower.
The infirmary floor was spacious, despite the limited numbers on our side. Batwoman was breathing through nebules in her nose, laid up with an IV. Tim was asleep, bare-chested and his handless arm wrapped heavily.
Dick was the popular one today, Barbara and Kori on either side of his bed. Alfred stood at the foot, hands clasped behind his back. Barb was checking his vitals for what probably was the third time, knowing her. She liked to be extra sure with him. Dick caught sight of me over her shoulder, "Jason, hey!"
"Hi," I flashed a smile I didn't mean, "How're you feeling?"
"Only hurts when I laugh," He said, million watt grin in full effect. He didn't even consider the possibilities when he asked, "Is Gail upstairs with food or just outside?"
Alfred's eyes searched my face. He always knew what I was feeling, he knew before I had to say a word. His hands fell. I could see the wheels turning. He processed me, like he did when he pushed at the skin to see where the bones were broken. To see where I was hurting.
"She's our friend too," Barbara cross-checked the heartbeat monitor with a clipboard in her hands. "I hope she knows that, she's welcome in here."
Koriand'r stood promptly, patting my shoulder as she passed in a wave of strawberry perfume, even in full armor. "Well, I'll just go get her. She should celebrate with us. Even though we have loss today, she's just as much responsible for our victory." I stared at the floor when I heard the door open, and she said, "...Odd. She's not here."
Dick's eyes almost willed me to meet them. His voice was sure, the full weight of brotherly concern. "Jason, where's Abigail?"
"Over Bludhaven by now…" I said, looking at him. I bit my lip and kept my hands in my pockets, balled into fists. I felt like I had when I was a teenager, terrified to explain to Bruce that the boy I had been protecting succumbed to his injuries. "I talked to Clark, back at the gala and…"
Barbara's hair flew over her shoulder as she moved to take in my eyes, my posture. "Jason...You arranged for her to be sent to Metropolis, didn't you?"
I nodded, but before I exhaled the jagged remains of her name, Alfred put his arms around me. I hugged him just as hard as I had at Falcone's manor, my face in his shoulder. It hurt to bend to do so, and I hated how the years made me too tall, how the years flew before I realized that I wasn't the boy he pretended not to notice sneaking food into his room.
"Jay…" Dick said, and I heard the sheets rustling, before Barb told him to lay back down. "I know how much she meant to you."
Alfred didn't let go until I did, and Kori was next, to my surprise. I didn't expect a hug from her, but she still squeezed me tight. I patted her arm awkwardly, and thanked her with a nod.
"I'm...certain she knows too," She said.
Barbara's hand found mine, and I gripped it. I shook my head, clearing my throat. "But that's immaterial at this point, we've...we've got to rebuild. We've got work to do."
"As a family," Alfred said, his eyes bright. He glanced past me to Tim and Batwoman. "All of us."
The conversation easily devolved, as it always did, to work and I found the relief I was looking for there. But I still couldn't immerse myself into it without Dick catching my hand before I moved to leave with the others. He waited until they were gone to ask me, "Are you going to be okay? About Gail?"
I sighed. The lesson was firm now, concrete into my spine and my chest.
"Better a broken heart than a broken neck."
THE END
