"Is it alright if I don't make sense
Even to myself?
Can I call you back again?
When I'm out of feelings
Done with missing out on things
And I'm missing you
Can I call you back?"
~ Shy Martin, "Can i call you back?"
Chapter 29: An Impasse
11 days later
"Miserable."
"... How so?"
Well, where would she start? It'd been eleven days since arriving back in Central City, a span of time she'd list in her top three worst periods of her life. Though she'd anticipated a sure struggle in her transition back home, nothing would have prepared Jess for the overwhelming, suffocating feelings of loneliness and desolation. It almost didn't matter that she stayed in contact with Misty and Damian, being on phone or video calls and texting with them almost everyday; her only social, in-person interaction was with Lora, and that in itself was already limited.
Because the anxiety about being in this city that offered her nothing had the teen shutting herself away in her room most of the time and hardly leaving the house. She spent her days sleeping, finding ways to entertain herself with tv shows and movies, social media, anything that would occupy her time. Of course, Jess had tried and gone out a handful of times to revisit a few places she'd kind of missed, taking a walk to one of Central City's parks or stopping by the mall to see if retail therapy would provide any temporary comfort, but she'd soon found that one of her biggest worries was running into someone she knew. And as the days inched closer to the fall school semester, her uneasiness only worsened and her thoughts became riddled with questions of "What if?".
What if someone asked her about her whereabouts in the last two years? What if they knew she'd run away? What if a classmate had somehow found about the terrible things she'd done? What if she would be forever known as the girl who'd lost both her parents and became a runaway and a juvenile delinquent?
What if she couldn't handle any of it?
And if all of that wasn't enough, Jess was still going through withdrawals from stardust. They'd gradually worsened after leaving Gotham, and now the symptoms were more than mental: she could hardly sleep at night, taking intermittent naps throughout the day, her appetite was all over the place and inconsistent, and there was this heavy, pressing sense of detachment that she couldn't shake. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, even after the car accident; it was isolation on a whole other level that felt unique compared to what she'd felt after being put into her aunt's care.
Maybe it was because, while she still managed to talk to her two friends back in Gotham, having those connections and knowing she was separated from them made it that much more difficult. Not being able to see her parents ever again was one thing, but only having relationships over a phone line or internet connection was another. That particular distance and detachment was somehow worse in its own way, making Jess feel so much more withdrawn and secluded. It made getting through a single day harder than it needed to be, and there had been a few times when she'd almost broken down from the crushing feeling.
Even as she laid on her bed, earbuds plugged in as she contemplated how to answer her friend's question, she could feel that weighty isolation as it sat uncomfortably deep in her chest. It was like she was.. stuck in place here with nowhere to go.
"I dunno," Jess finally answered.
Her eyes were starting to sting, but she couldn't bring herself to really explain what she was feeling. There was no desire to get anything off her chest, only a yearning to cry... Though Jess didn't want to do that either because then Damian would worry. And she couldn't have him doing that.
"I mean, my aunt's just being annoying like usual," she added nonchalantly, managing to keep her voice even despite the tightness in her throat.
"Nagging you about finding a job and getting your license?" his voice came through the earbuds, giving her the closest imitation of him being there with her.
"Yeah. I mean, I have that two-day course this week that she made me sign up for and then the test next week, but as for a job… I dunno, I just..."
I don't want to do either of them. I don't want to do anything at all.
She decided to change the subject. "Neo still doing good?"
"He's as approachable and curious as ever. We've found that he likes to spend his time in high places—at the top of a bookshelf, on the fridge. Only half the time does he respond to me and come down when I coax him."
"Sounds like he's being a cat then. Is he still sleeping with you on the bed?"
"Sometimes. If it isn't my bed, it's elsewhere in the manor. He doesn't seem to be fond of the one you picked out."
"Yup, definitely sounds like a cat."
Several moments of silence passed with Jess laying there, not knowing what to say. It felt like only so much could be said about their days, catching up on whatever was new (which wasn't much for either of them besides Neo getting accustomed to the manor and Jess attempting to settle back in), but it just wasn't enough. Not that there was anything particularly boring about talking with him—it never was—yet the teen just wished she could go out and actually do something with her friend. To be with him, watching a movie, bothering Alfred, playing with Neo together.
She laid as comfortably as she could with neither of them speaking until Damian's voice came through.
"Jessica."
"Hm?"
"... Will you be alright?"
Tears burned in her eyes at his question but she refused to let them slip by shutting them and biting her lip. She took as even a breath as possible, careful not to let it be too loud in case he caught it.
After the steady breath, Jess managed to answer calmly, "Of course. I'm just still readjusting, you know?"
He didn't say anything for a long moment, and she was pretty sure he knew she was lying. She was fully prepared for him to call her out on it until she found herself speaking again.
"I'm, uh, gonna go take a bath. My aunt will be off work soon, so I should probably get off my ass."
Maybe he would have protested, insisting she wasn't actually okay and that he felt her lying through the phone...
But he didn't.
"I'll talk to you later then."
"Send me another picture of Neo... of you and Neo this time," Jess corrected herself.
"You know I don't take 'selfies.'"
"Come on. For me? I just wanna see how cute you two look together."
"... We'll see."
"Fiiine... Talk to you later."
"Goodbye, Jessica."
"Bye, Dami."
As soon as the line went dead, she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and let out a deep sigh while the tears she'd held back finally escaped.
Her next attempt at finding normalcy was the ice rink.
The last time she'd been there had been just days before the car accident, and not much seemed to have changed about it since. Everything from the blue seats to the jumbotron and even the lockers was the same. Thankfully, there were only a few people and kids this morning—the only thing that had managed to get her to leave the house earlier in the day was knowing it'd get busier later—and she didn't recognize any of them.
Her eyes had been darting around the place as soon as she'd entered since Jess was anxious at the possibility there would be someone she knew from her figure skating or hockey days. Truthfully, she was surprised she'd managed to convince herself to get out and do something, though it'd definitely helped to have Damian insisting she hit the ice and get her mind off things. If there was anything that would do that and bring her a little bit of joy, it had to be skating.
After a few stretches then lacing up the skates Damian had gifted her (she'd found her old ones but stuffed them in the back of her closet) and donning her wireless earbuds, Jess made her way to the rink. She allowed herself to circle around a few times, focusing on the ice below her blades and the slight chill she could feel through her clothes. In doing so, she was reminded of the few times she'd gone to the rink in Gotham with Kade and tried to teach him basic maneuvers. He'd never done very well, but he'd been a good sport about it, which was really all she could've asked for.
The briefest flash of his lopsided grin had her stomach stirring with butterflies as she continued around the ice, trying to concentrate on the classical music playlist she'd used to listen to when she practiced. It was a weird combination, doing these things that brought back memories of her old life while also thinking of the one she'd made back in Gotham. And despite the jumps and spins Jess attempted to concentrate on, she couldn't shake the ghostly touches of his mouth at her neck or his hands gripping her hips like their lives depended on it, how his dilated, gray-blue eyes had been drinking her in the same way she'd downed that glass of stardust. Even then, the memories were vivid, sending the flutters from her stomach down south. She'd gone into that situation knowing she couldn't grow attached to Kade let alone allow herself to think she would ever see him again, but the teen couldn't deny the experience had left her with nothing to be desired.
It was a wonder she'd managed to make herself look presentable again by the time Damian had picked her up.
Would he have been upset if she'd actually told him? She'd wondered about it since deciding she would pursue things with Kade but had ultimately made the choice that she wouldn't tell him. Not like it was really his business, right? He didn't have to know.
Jess's blade nearly hit the ice at a bad angle as she completed a toe loop, her hands shooting out to steady herself though she didn't fall. Straightening up and shaking off the minor mistake, she took a deep breath and skated several feet behind a young girl who had witnessed the imperfect spin. Slight embarrassment flushed the teen's cheeks as she circled around and did the same loop, landing it perfectly this time.
Don't think about boys, and you'll land your jumps, Jess.
About an hour later, she was packing up her things and wondering to herself if she should grab food on the way home. I could go for Alfred's lasagna right now... She was completely lost in thought as she headed towards the arena's front doors when someone said her name.
A girl, holding skates in one hand and her reddish-brown locks pulled back into a bun, was approaching her after having walked in. Her eyes at first filled with hesitation and then widened with shock, giving Jess a onceover. "Is that really you?"
Jess didn't recognize her for a moment — she seemed to be around her age and a few inches shorter — but then old memories and feelings flooded in, images of the other girl's dirty looks from across the rink flashing in her mind, disappointment sinking in her chest as she saw her own scores compared to the redhead's. She'd never found out why Audrey had named her some kind of nemesis after years of training under the same people growing up (especially because they'd gotten along fine for the most part), but Jess had eventually decided she'd do the same, and never once had she thought she would experience such a cliche form of competition.
Maybe she shouldn't have been so surprised to run into someone she'd known at this point returning home. Maybe she should've recovered a lot quicker than she did, standing there in stunned silence for a good minute until Audrey awkwardly looked away and then back at her.
"I, uh, heard a couple months ago that you were back," she told her as she shifted from one foot to the other and readjusted the bag on her shoulder. "I thought I'd see you a lot sooner, honestly."
"Um…"
Well this is weird.
Jess cleared her throat and tucked flyaway strands of hair behind her ear, offering the other girl a tentative smile. "I came back for a little bit but then left for the summer."
She wasn't going to go into detail about where she'd gone and for what. Definitely not.
"Are you back for good?"
Unfortunately, yes.
"Yeah, I'm, uh, going back to school next week."
"Oh, that's good," Audrey responded with a smile. She glanced in the direction of the rink then gestured towards Jess. "I see you're getting back on the ice."
In her mind's eye, Jess saw Audrey pulling off a camel spin that she herself hadn't managed to learn quite yet, making her confidence in her own routine plummet. She'd tried to focus on her own skills and growth and even ignore the other girl's clear distaste with her, but she and the unwelcome attitudes always stuck around.
This was the kindest conversation she'd ever had with her in years, Jess noted. It was already really strange in the first place, seeing and talking to someone from her past; it being with a girl who'd normally been standoffish and sometimes downright mean was just even weirder. Did it have something to do with Jess's disappearance? She could only assume Audrey knew that much.
"I am," Jess replied, returning the awkward smile. "I've definitely missed it."
Silence fell between them for several moments as they stood there, a few people passing as they entered and exited through the entrance nearby. Nervousness was simmering deep in Jess's bones, and she suddenly found herself eager to walk away as her eyes darted around their surroundings. Who else was she going to run into? Would another person recognize her? Surely she could make it back home without another run-in… Should she skip grabbing food on the way?
"Uh, well, it was nice seeing you," Audrey was saying then, wary eyes on her.
"Of course she's here," she'd once muttered too loudly years ago, rolling her eyes at Jess approaching the same rink to begin practice.
"If you ever want to, you know, practice together or something, let me know."
"God knows she needs the extra time on the ice."
Chest tightening uncomfortably, Jess could only nod and offer another timid smile. She watched the redhead start towards the rink, and that was when she hurried out the door, taking the front steps two at a time.
When Damian had suddenly turned up with more information than they'd had before about the stardust case, Bruce couldn't help but be a bit curious. Not that he doubted his son's ability to progress a case on his own and in a short amount of time, but there had been multiple signs that pointed toward his suspicion that something was… off.
Firstly, it'd been the night before Jess's departure, and Damian didn't have to say much to Bruce for the older man to figure he was going to spend part of his patrol looking out for her should she be roaming the streets on her own (again). Secondly, he'd cut his patrol shorter than planned, so Batman had still been out meeting with Commissioner Gordon by the time Robin was back at the cave. That meant that by the time Batman himself returned, the younger hero had already analyzed and sorted through all the information on the mystery USB drive.
Thirdly, the drive hadn't come from anywhere. It'd come from a person Bruce had least expected, a peculiar piece of information Damian hadn't mentioned until the next day.
Even then, he couldn't say he was just as surprised when he ran into that same person weeks later. At this point, the duo had managed to take out more than half of the astonishing number of stardust suppliers across the city, cutting the distribution rate by nearly seventy percent of what it used to be. Though they hadn't quite gotten to the primary source when it came to the drug's creators, they were very close to doing so, and Bruce was confident they'd close the case within a week… And it was partially thanks to a son he hadn't seen in over a year.
"I'm guessing that bit of intel helped you two out," Red Hood drawled from where he stood, leaning against the brick wall of an abandoned building.
He and Batman were in Gotham's outskirts, the younger man having dropped in after the latter had concluded a quick investigation in the area. It'd just finished raining, the ground wet with several large puddles here and there, and few street lights illuminated their surroundings.
"It did," Batman answered, several yards away. Beneath his mask, his eyes were reading Red Hood's body language, taking in the way he appeared too aloof and casual, even for him.
He wondered how much his son had changed under that helmet, if it looked like he'd aged since the last time he'd seen him. Did he still have that mischievous glint in his green-blue eyes when he smirked? Did he still refuse to brush his hair unless he'd gotten out of the shower?
"You didn't want to take out the suppliers yourself?"
"Oh, I wanted to, but… someone made it very clear that I shouldn't get in the way. You know, a kid who runs around in red and green, about five-foot-ten, looks at least five years older than he really is."
He couldn't say that sharing intel was characteristic of Red Hood; if anything, it was unusual for the man to do such a thing let alone unheard of that he would concede to Robin's apparent unwillingness to let him work on the same case. Red Hood had always been adamant — "stubborn" wasn't quite the appropriate word (that applied better to someone like Damian) — about his ways and what he decided to get involved in.
"That's never stopped you before," Batman responded evenly.
So why go through all the trouble of gathering the intel just to hand it over?
Though he had so many questions, he worked to keep them at bay. He knew he had to choose wisely, tread carefully… especially since that was Jason under there.
"Yeah, well, things have changed, old man," Red Hood said with a shrug. "You and I both know that. Don't have a lot of energy these days to waste on stupid shit like arguing with someone who refuses to lose an argument."
Perhaps it was a far-fetched assumption, but the older man couldn't help wondering if this had something to do with what had happened between him and Damian years ago. He knew there were still old, bitter feelings, at least when it came to his youngest, but where did that apply when it came to Jason? Was he still harboring all that pain and guilt Bruce knew he'd felt back then?
Of course, that unfortunate event had to involve the two people in their family that were the least likely to mend things in a reasonable, practical matter. Out of them all, the universe or gods that be had chosen to pit those two against one another. Not only had Damian and Jason both struggled with their identities and emotions over the years, but they also were stubborn and prideful in their own ways. The two were so alike when it came to turning their noses up and away at things they considered to be beneath them, so much so that it was no surprise neither of them had managed to make any sort of progress in repairing their relationship. To Bruce's knowledge, Jason had made attempts to reach out to his younger brother that yielded no results… Though he knew it'd been at Dick's discretion because Jason Todd was not one to be the first to apologize.
But him going out of his way to put intel on a USB drive and give it to Robin out on patrol had to mean something, didn't it?
"Why would you provide Robin that intel, then?"
Red Hood was silent for several moments before saying, "Figured it was better off in your hands than in GCPD's."
You're lying.
Fighting the urge to call him out, Batman knew it would take work to get him to admit what his intentions truly were. He only had assumptions and a bit of optimism at this point, but he also knew better than to let his wishes cloud his expectations.
Except the father in him refused to believe there wasn't hope for his two sons.
"We miss you, you know."
The words seemed to hang between them, heavy with years of unexpressed emotions and desires that he'd held onto.
The man under the helmet didn't say anything for so long that, for a curious moment, Batman pondered the possibility that his sentiment had hit home. But then Red Hood was straightening from the wall and readjusting his jacket with newfound standoffishness.
His voice was tinged with indifference as he said, "Appreciate you lying to try and make me feel better, but I don't need it."
"I'm not lying—"
"If you're not lying, then you're just naive. 'We miss you' doesn't include—"
He stopped abruptly though Batman knew exactly what he'd been about to say. If he hadn't been wearing the helmet, he would likely see his son attempting to hide the hurt in his eyes, pressing his lips together in a thin line as he internally scolded himself for nearly slipping up.
That isn't true, Jason. He does miss you.
Stepping forward once and aware of a painful tugging in his heart, he tried one more time. "Stop by sometime. Maybe for dinner or…"
Batman was never supposed to be emotional under the mask — he was never supposed to let Bruce poke through. He'd perfected the separation of his two identities, compartmentalizing Bruce Wayne's troubles and Batman's nightlife worries as easily as he put t-shirts in one drawer and socks in another. It'd been a technique that, depending on how one looked at it, had saved his life and mental/emotional health protecting the city and the world because blurring the lines had always gotten him in trouble.
Yet as he stood there, facing a son he felt he'd lost all over again but for a reason completely different from the first time… Bruce stumbled upon the understanding that he no longer lived the dual life he used to and certainly not in the same way he'd practiced for so long. As the days and years had passed, more of Bruce Wayne came alive from within the suit, and not even his dedication to keeping his identities separate was as strong as it used to be. How could it remain that way when time had created distance between himself and his children, opening his eyes to what he knew was most important to him above all else? Above even the mission he'd sworn to uphold for as long as he could?
"Thanks, but… I'll have to pass."
Before he could say anything else, Red Hood was walking away, rounding the corner of the building until, moments later, there was the faint and distant roar of a motorcycle engine.
Or just for a little while, the older man finished in his head, closing his eyes as the sound of the engine faded into nothing.
At that moment, it wasn't Bruce Wayne, former playboy billionaire, disguised as Gotham's protector and standing alone in the corner of the city.
It was Bruce Wayne,a father, searching for answers and wishing his son would come home.
He missed her.
Growing used to his siblings leaving the manor to live their own lives should have prepared him, yet it wasn't the same. Having Dick leave after his visits was also unfortunate and a bit saddening in its own right, so no longer being able to see Jess nearly every day had felt like an abrupt interruption in Damian's life. Although part of him liked to think he'd done what he could to mentally and emotionally prepare for the miles put between them, he'd found it somewhat... difficult... to handle.
Admittedly, one of the few things providing him relief (besides their exchanged texts and calls) was still being able to track her location. Perhaps there was certainly only so much he could do from miles away if something went wrong, but knowing her whereabouts was much better than not. He would at least know much sooner and in real time if she found trouble again. Lately though, Jess spent a lot of her time at home, and Damian didn't need her to tell him she'd actually gone to the rink or elsewhere since he already knew.
Other than no longer being able to physically be with her the way they used to, his life was not much different than it had been before. He continued to find solace in his own solitude and privacy, spending his nights in Gotham's streets, talking with Dick when the older man wanted to catch up. Jess's absence had prompted him to take certain things upon himself such as reorganizing the library once again, ordering new reading material, and even picking up artwork that had been sitting unfinished in storage.
"Why am I not surprised you happen to be good at art, too?" she'd asked, hazel eyes scanning one of his worn sketchbooks with undisguised fascination. "Seriously. Is there anything you're not good at?"
As seemingly natural as it felt to fall back into what life had been before Jess, the differences between now and then were subtle and indistinct. They showed up in the fridge when he opened it as flavored creamers sitting on the shelf (thanks to Alfred) that she'd liked, in the way Damian would find himself almost reaching for a knife to cut the crusts from a sandwich because that was how she preferred her bread. He'd rediscovered a dedication to continue working on art pieces she'd said he should finish and thought about her when he happened to look out the window and see the sun setting. Neo was another constant reminder, his mere presence pulling mental images of Jess's grin into Damian's mind when he least expected it. He often mused to himself that she would likely find it funny when the cat stared wide-eyed at a screen, that she would be laughing at the way he climbed onto Damian's shoulders and sometimes his head when he was on his bed.
As far away as she was, his friend was still there in nearly everything the young man did. It was as if she was imprinted in everything around him… The last time another person had managed to do that had been Irene, yet things with her had ended so disastrously—
His phone began ringing, jolting him from thoughts that he hadn't realized he'd sunk deeply into as he sat at his desk. Jess's name appeared on the screen — Tt, what were the chances she would call while he'd been thinking of her? — and Damian saw that it was nearly three in the afternoon (when she should've been in class, he'd noted). His gaze narrowed while he had the phone to his ear in a split second.
"Jessica?"
"... Hi."
It was only one word but Damian could hear something in her soft voice, and it had him straightening up in alertness.
"What's wrong?" he asked, keeping his tone as nonchalant as possible.
There was an itch in him, a desire to check her location and see if she was still at school — or elsewhere, considering her characteristic foolishness to roam off on her own, especially at night. He wouldn't have put it past her to leave school grounds if she'd wanted to.
Silence followed for several moments. "Jessica."
"Actually, I, um... I'll c-call you back."
She was crying. He could hear how desperately she was attempting to hide it, yet the cracking in her vulnerable tone had given her away. His chest tightened while the image of her in tears flitted through his mind. Why would she call and then want to hang up?
"What—?"
"Five m-minutes. I'll... call you in five minutes."
Three-hundred seconds had never felt so long to him before. He'd made it to the computer in the cave from his room in about one minute, and it took another to pull up Jess's current, exact location: she was still at school, but more specifically in the northwestern most corner of the main building. A quick check of the school's map, and it appeared his friend was in a bathroom, possibly holed up in a stall in the middle of her fifth period class.
Damian could only imagine what she looked like, and he had an easy (and accurate, he knew) guess at why she was in the state she was in; his hand tightened at his side as he continued counting down the final minute before she was supposed to return his call.
Just over five minutes had passed, and she still hadn't called. He battled his impatience, telling himself he'd give her sixty more seconds before he'd call her again. About fifteen had passed when his phone vibrated.
He answered before the first ring was over. "Jessica."
"Hey," she said quietly with a sniffle. "Sorry about that…"
Breathing in and out deeply through his nose, Damian sat back in the chair with his gaze trained on the computer monitor. "Are you alright?"
Silence, then: "Not really."
"Are you at school?"
"Yeah. I went to the bathroom in the middle of class… Needed a moment to myself."
She wasn't lying, which was a good sign.
He said nothing, forcing himself to remain quiet in hopes she would open up about what had gotten her in such a state of dismay.
"I told myself I'd be able to make it through this first day," she was saying slowly then, "but it's… it's worse than I thought it'd be."
The way her voice was breaking again had him closing his eyes as he held the phone to his ear. Jess was sobbing again on the other end, and with every passing moment, Damian could feel a desire growing in him, one that made his body itch with yearning.
"It's s-so stupid… It feels like everyone is staring at me and talking behind my back. Even the teachers act like they're t-too scared to say my name or look at me."
"There is nothing stupid about how you feel," he found himself saying albeit with a hint of hesitation.
Consolation was unfortunately something he had never been good at in spite of having learned a thing or two from Dick. As much as he knew he wanted to help her and take away the anxiety and despair clearly overtaking her, Damian nearly felt… helpless. It was a feeling he'd seldom experienced yet despised all the same because it meant he wasn't in control.
The indistinct sounds of labored breathing made him sit up in the chair, heart rate increasing. "Jessica," he began, a note of concern in his voice.
"Just… talk to me. Anything…" she was trying to tell him between what sounded like faint wheezes and sobs. "T-tell me... what you did... today. I need—I need to hear…"
At the sob that cut off her words, Damian quickly adopted a calm tone and proceeded to describe his day. As if they were having a normal conversation in his car or in the manor kitchen, he rattled off the errands he'd run and the lunch he'd spent with Bruce. Though a minuscule part of him was wondering what Jess looked like on the other end, he kept on, trusting that his voice would provide her the comfort and ease she'd seemingly asked for.
"Dick called me this morning. He and his family are doing well in New York and will likely visit for Thanksgiving unless Father insists we go there instead. He did ask about you again, and he's looking forward to meeting Neo…"
Finally, Damian concluded his mundane explanation, finding his words drifting off and followed by silence.
A minute passed, and he carefully, almost quietly, said, "I'm... here, Jessica."
Here but not there, where he should be.
"There's this guy, a friend I made this summer. Um, long story short, I feel like he needs a little… 'looking after.'"
But what about you?
As much as Jess's unusual request had touched him that night, Damian knew who truly was the one who needed looking after… Though he could hardly do even that despite his efforts and attempts to keep tabs on her. The closest he could be was through a phone, and it only made frustration nip at his nerves. He knew her address, her real-time location, everything about her aunt such as where she worked and even her spending habits. He could name Jess's high school's graduation rate as well as list her class schedule.
Yet the best he could do over a phone line was offer words he did not know how to say because they were often one of his greatest weaknesses. And if not words, what else? Silence?
If the situation were more ideal and the two of them were physically in each other's presence… he would hold her. Perhaps it was all he knew, all he'd learned in their time together and not much better than words, but it would work. He knew it would. She would still cry and be in pain, yet at least it would be in his arms the same way she'd held him when he had unknowingly needed it. Then he'd truly be "here."
He heard her take a deep breath, exhaling into the phone. "It's been a while since I've had one of these..."
Damian realized he was clenching his jaw; he attempted to relax, sitting up in the chair and looking down at the keyboard though his eyes didn't see it. In his mind's eye was how he imagined she looked right now, hazel irises rimmed with red as she scrambled to wipe away her tears. Her hair was probably unkempt, and if she hadn't been holding her phone, she'd be twisting that ring on her finger or snapping the hair tie on her wrist.
"I'll… I'll be okay though," she was saying then, though the slight shakiness in her voice offered little to no assurance. "I'll start therapy again and figure out how to… cope."
Before he could say anything, Jess added, "I don't really know why I asked you to tell me about your day... but it helped."
"You're certain you'll be okay?"
There was a brief pause before she answered, "I think so."
There was a thought lingering at the edge of his mind, begging to be asked, yet he found himself unable to voice it aloud no matter how much louder it grew. Instead, he listened to her telling him that she intended to get back to class.
"You'll text me later?"
"Yeah, I will. Or I'll call again if that's okay."
Whenever.
"That sounds reasonable."
"Okay... Bye."
Minutes after they'd hung up, he was in his room again, mind clouded with haphazard thoughts and even more cluttered feelings. His phone buzzed with a text message notification, and seeing Jess's name had his heart jumping into his throat with anticipation.
Thanks, Dami, she'd written. don't know what I'd do without you
Though her excessive use of the blue heart emoji followed by corn emojis was silly and a bit childish, Damian could only roll his eyes then silently wish she'd seen it.
Damian: Just call whenever you need me.
Jessica: then i guess i'll be calling you ALL the time... jk :) send more Neo pictures plz
Something about her joke stirred warmth in his chest as he immediately proceeded to send her the most recent photos he'd taken of the cat. He certainly couldn't explain why the recitation of his banal, everyday activities had apparently given her what she needed and in what way it curbed the panic attack... but he found he didn't care. As long as it eased the pain, it hardly mattered what he needed to do. If she asked him to read off the ingredients from the back of a cake mix box or explain why he found most romantic comedies overrated and unpredictable, he would.
He would do whatever she asked him to.
When she'd gone down to the dining room after Lora had called her for dinner, Jess had been in an awful mood. Though day three of school was over, all the negativity and anxiety that'd been eating at her was still alive, and she'd gone straight home to break down for the second time. Her eyes were slightly red and her cheeks were pink as she sat down at the dining table, hardly noticing the spaghetti waiting for her.
Lora's sharp gaze ran over the teen from the other end of the table. For a moment, she merely continued blowing on her forkful of spaghetti in silence as if unbothered by Jess's dismal appearance, but then she was speaking up.
"Well? How was your third day?"
"Just as amazing as the first and second." Jess didn't bother hiding the sarcasm as she stared down at her plate, not a bit hungry.
Her aunt let out a heavy sigh, fingers going up to rub her temple. "Jessica..."
"That's my name."
"How much longer are you going to be like this?"
The teen rubbed at her eye then shrugged. "Until a miracle happens or the day I die. Whichever comes first."
There was a sharp clatter as Lora dropped her fork onto her plate and sat back in her chair, steely eyes hardening. "I thought that your probation would have fixed that attitude, but it appears to have gotten worse. Why? What is there for you to be so bitter about?"
Hot annoyance seared through Jess's nerves, and she couldn't help snapping, "What isn't there for me to be bitter about?"
"What on earth are you—?"
"You wanna know how school has been? It's been three days and I've never been more miserable since Mom and Dad died," she said, attempting but barely succeeding at keeping her emotions controlled. "You know why? Because it's been two years since I've seen any of these people, and all they did was stare at me 'cause I'm the girl they knew that went missing.
"A guy even had the audacity to walk up to me and ask if I remembered him. I don't even fucking know why he did, but all I do know is that it made me feel horrible."
Was she supposed to have said no? And if she had, how would he have reacted?
Her voice was cracking now as it rose, and Jess was having trouble getting a hold of the desperation growing in her. Lora's eyes had widened at her outburst, but the teen couldn't care less. All she knew was that she was on the verge of tears, and talking about her experience at school was just unlocking the door for the rest of the worries and troubles that had been living in her head.
"I never wanted to come back here, you know. There's nothing in this city for me. Mom and Dad aren't here, I have no friends, you and I are complete strangers..." Jess had to take a moment and inhale deeply, feeling a few warm tears escape the corners of her eyes. "But back at Gotham? Believe it or not, it... it started to feel like—like... It felt like—"
Home. It had felt like home.
She couldn't hold it in anymore. With a sob, Jess pushed herself away from the table and hurried back upstairs, almost tripping over her own feet because she couldn't see through the tears. Curled up on her bed, hugging a pillow, she cried again... again and again, as she had been since leaving Gotham—repeatedly, like the anxiety and misery that had been cycling through her head for weeks. Tears, feelings of desolation, constant questions and "What if?"... they were all she'd known for such a short amount of time yet they'd been so consuming and draining.
Would it really be any better a week from now? A month? Six months?
Her stomach lurched at the thought of enduring this pain and anguish for months...
With tears half-dried on her face, Jess waited until her breathing had slowed and felt around her bed for her phone. She took a moment to look at the wallpaper that was a photo of her and Damian with Neo in his lap: it was a quick selfie she'd managed to snap without him noticing, Jess grinning cheekily and her friend on the couch behind her and preoccupied with his new companion.
"Just call whenever you need me," was what he'd texted her the other night.
Her thumb hovered over the button with the phone icon, but before she could follow through with it, there was a knock on her bedroom door.
Mind jolted back to the present, Jess glanced at it but said nothing, aware of the negative emotions slithering back into her conscience.
"Jessica," her aunt's voice came through. "I'd like to speak with you."
Part of her wanted to tell her off, but another took notice of how unusually calm the woman sounded. Was it just her imagination or did she sound almost... kind?
You're going nuts, Jess.
"I have something I want to show you."
Curiosity butted its head through her doubt, making Jess finally get up and open the door. Without meeting Lora's eyes, she immediately turned around and went to sit on her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest again. Lora seemed to tentatively enter then seat herself on the edge of the bed. That was when the teen noticed she was holding an envelope.
"This came in the mail a few days before you got back."
Lora's name was written neatly on the front of the opened envelope, but that wasn't what caught Jess's eye — Bruce Wayne's name and business address was printed as the sender.
Her heart seemed to beat painfully as she proceeded to pull the letter from the opened envelope, and she had a strong feeling just by the feel of the paper that she knew what it was. Still, it didn't make her reaction any less jolting as her eyes scanned what was a replica of the letter Damian had shown her weeks ago. It wasn't even a copy at that; it was printed organically with Bruce's real, penned signature and the seal at the top. Hell, it might have been the exact one she'd held and tossed at her friend in his car.
She couldn't even begin to comprehend exactly how this had been sent to Lora, if it'd been sent sometime before or after her heart-to-heart with Damian… All the teen could do was stare at it in nearly the same way she had the first time in the car with him. This whole time, she hadn't planned on telling her aunt about the offer, yet apparently Bruce had taken it upon himself to send it to the only family she had left.
"Did you know about this?" Lora asked, her eyes watching her carefully from her seated position on the bed.
To lie or not to lie?
After several moments, Jess cleared her throat and answered, "Yeah… I did."
"Well, I ended up speaking with him, and he—"
"You talked to Bruce?"
Lora raised a plucked brow. She must have picked up on Jess's casual use of the man's first name. "Yes, I spoke with 'Bruce'... Was quite difficult getting a hold of him, but I guess that's what happens when you're as well-known and rich as he is."
What did he say?
With a sigh, her aunt gestured towards the letter still in Jess's hands and continued, "He had nice things to say about you. Told me all about how you'd met and how hard you worked on your community service, job, all the responsibilities you had. Apparently, you impressed him enough to do something as generous as offer you a spot at Gotham Academy."
Her words echoed in Jess's head, guilt trickling into the teen's gut at the mention of working hard during her stay. If only Bruce had known how much she'd still messed up despite all her efforts to turn her life around… An image of Damian's frustrated, emerald gaze and the bag of stardust he'd held flashed behind her eyes, and she worked to shove it away, not wanting to be reminded of that road bump in their friendship.
"I was waiting for you to bring it up to me," Lora was saying, "but considering you've already started school, it seems like you weren't planning on it."
That was true. Jess had considered briefly mentioning the scholarship to her aunt, but a voice had been quick to remind her of their tumultuous relationship and the high likelihood that the woman would be averse to the idea. She'd just known her aunt wouldn't appreciate the mere possibility of Jess returning to Gotham and being away from her. Besides, the teen was still convinced she didn't deserve a penny of Wayne money, so there really wasn't any point at all in bringing up the grandiose gift.
Although, none of that meant she'd stopped thinking about it. In fact, it was something that sat in the back of her mind all day (and especially at night when she laid in bed), the idea that she could go back and continue her fresh start at life. No probation, no community service, no stardust… just a new school, new friends, new chance at living the way she was supposed to. It was a fantasy at this point and definitely didn't help how she felt about being in Central City. Her heart simply yearned to be in Gotham again, but her ego just couldn't accept the only ticket she had to get there.
Jess didn't really know how else to respond to her aunt besides telling her the truth. She was too exhausted to try and consider half-truths and lies — none of that would change this reality of staying in her hometown.
"I didn't think I deserved it," she muttered with a shrug. "And I knew you'd say no anyway."
Lora regarded her with eyes that were difficult to decipher, which was a bit strange considering she was usually expressive and easy to read. "You're right that I would say no…"
Hmph, Jess thought.
"... But that doesn't mean I can't change my mind."
Brows knitting together in confusion, she met the woman's gaze but couldn't speak. What was she saying?
Lora took a deep breath and looked away, appearing deep in thought for a long moment. Then she readjusted her position on the bed, turning herself to face Jess, who was watching her curiously. "I know it didn't seem like it, but Ian and I were close," she began.
At the mention of her father's name, Jess's heart thumped painfully in her chest.
"We talked often to make up for the fact that we hardly had the chance to see each other. That's why I never got to actually see you in person, to watch you grow up… so I don't blame you for feeling like you don't know me," Lora told her, splitting a gaze between her niece and a random spot on the comforter.
"But I know you, Jessica, to a certain extent. Despite not getting to see you much, I learned things from your father — he always told me about what was going on with you, updated me when it came to your competitions and hockey games. He'd send me those shaky videos he recorded or tell me how you were doing in school.
"I had convinced myself I wouldn't tell you about this, but... a few days prior to the… accident… he said they weren't keen on letting you travel out of state for that hockey game. He wanted to say yes, but he simply didn't feel comfortable with you being away for even a few days. Your mother felt the same way. And they knew it would upset you, Jessica, but I know it was only because they were being parents; they'd never been apart from you like that before.
"I suppose what I'm trying to say here is that… you and I may not feel like family, but I did get to know you through my brother. And what I learned most of all is that despite all of that, he—he loved you."
Her voice had begun wavering as she finished, reaching up to dab at the inner corners of her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling as if trying to keep the tears from escaping.
Jess, on the other hand, wasn't bothering to remain composed. Her face was shiny with her own tears that streamed relentlessly as she stared unseeingly at the comforter, arms still wrapped around the pillow. Reaching up to wipe under her eyes, she sniffled and couldn't help reliving that stupid argument in the car on the day that haunted her memories and dreams. Neither of her parents had ever really explained why they didn't want her to go with the team to that game, but hearing this from her aunt felt like someone was wrenching open a wound she'd thought had healed for the most part. It was one thing to learn that her father had talked about her to Lora all these years — it was another to be told that her parents had simply been worried about being separated from her for a game.
"And what I learned most of all is that despite all of that, he—he loved you."
A familiar ache was rising in her chest, one that she'd known for too long after that fateful day. Guilt followed closely behind, reminding her that she'd always wondered if it was her fault for the argument and, ultimately, the accident.
"Jessica."
She couldn't bring herself to meet her aunt's gaze; instead, Jess sat there unmoving, allowing the tears to continue and too afraid to make a move for fear of completely breaking down.
"Since that day, I… I've never known what I'm supposed to do to take care of you." Hesitation tinted Lora's voice, something Jess had never heard from her before. "I was so angry that my brother and sister-in-law were gone, and perhaps that's why I couldn't figure out how to pick up where they left off."
Jess was shutting her eyes now, trying her hardest to contain the pain blossoming from deep within her chest. She didn't know where Lora was going with this, but she couldn't even bring herself to tell her to stop if she tried.
There was a heavy sigh, then the woman's next words had Jess opening her eyes: "I don't think you are the only one who wants another chance."
She'd seen a variety of emotions from her aunt, most of which were usually negative in some way — irritation, frustration, disappointment. She'd seen her pinch the bridge of her nose a thousand times when Jess was "too quiet" in the months following the accident, heave big sighs when Jess gave her attitude. All she'd ever known from the woman was that Jess was a burden, another responsibility she'd never asked for or wanted… a reminder of her brother's death.
So when Jess heard what sounded like a sliver of hopefulness in her voice, a hint of something different from what she'd always known, she met Lora's eyes. The gray irises were filled with gentleness, seemingly speaking to her and asking something she would never have seen coming.
Will you give me another chance?
Note: hey guys, bit of a weird chapter but i wanted to showcase how going back to Central City negatively affected Jess (but also positively if we're talking about her aunt there towards the end? :O who knew she could experience emotions? lol) so it probably felt a little slow but we'll pick things up next update:)
thanks for all the love! i have lots of stuff planned, more dramatic things to stir the pot. and without giving too many specifics, let's just say Jason may or may not have a hand in some of the upcoming chaos xD OH and there's another canon character i'm trying to weave in as well, i'm just trying to figure out where her appearance would make the most sense.
anyway, i appreciate the reads and reviews and for you sticking through this wild journey with me and Jess. she's got a bit more growing to do, so all i can do at this point as her creator is stand on the sidelines and yell at her. maybe she'll listen eventually ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
