God, is there any other person on this site who sucks as much as I do when it comes to updating? Technically, I have good reason, partly because I've been completely exhausted/busy, partly because I have been geeking out badly (Harry Potter number 6, for fans out there, but also for the premiere of Battlestar Galactica: 2003, season two)…and for one more reason.
I have been thinking. Long and hard, for many days on end…and I have reached a conclusion about this story.
I want to do a sequel.
I realized that, as I looked over the ending of this particular story, a sequel was rather inevitable. Plus, I had this really cool idea for another story leading off this one. So…(Looks around for anyone flinging rotten fruit). I'd really like to know what you think about this idea, so if you wouldn't mind mentioning it in your review…it may be helpful, ya know what I mean?
Thank you.
Insanity 101: (Blinks.) Whoa; another long review—not that have a problem with that, mind you! I suppose I sort of asked for it though, what with the details of the episode…Hmm…but my friend will be probably be interested to hear your comments on "The Prophecy"…mostly because she, sadly, has missed the entire fourth season. (Pauses to mourn). I see what you mean about "The End." That was so romantic… But I'm kind of pissed at my sister because this Saturday, right after we watched the first part, she got bored and changed the channel so we didn't see the second part! Evil, no? I guess I'm going to have to wait and see what happened next week though…even if what I really feel like doing is grabbing my sis by the throat and beating her around the head with a stick…Yeah…whatever…I'm so sorry you feel sick—I know what it feels like to have a sludge brain…it's a right pain in the butt. Hope you feel better!
Infamous One:
Ha! Yes, as I said before too, poor old Alfred. He gets pretty much no recognition…and I feel even worse making Raven smack him in the head with that vase…dear me…I'll have to make it up to him somehow…
Oh, is Adeline dead? I didn't know that. All I knew was that she divorced him…I never heard if she died or not…(Out of morbid curiosity, do you know if she died naturally, or if she was murdered or something?)
Ah-ha! You are correct! 'Tis Rose indeed! "Daddy's little girl…" God, you're right, that sounds so creepily innocent…(Shudders). But I actually hope to make her role a bit more than a cameo (See the babbling above, right before the review responses…unless you already read that…)
Oh…so that's what AU stands for. I thought it was "alternate universe," but I just…couldn't…be…sure. You know what I mean? Well, I'm thinking that I'll have to apply some of that to write this story. Or stories…whatever.
Yeah…I won't stay up too late…unfortunately, I kind of figured that out from experience. I stayed up a bit (okay, maybe a LOT) over this week, and I've ended up like a total zombie…but I'll be crashing early for the next couple of days to fix that problem…
Thanks for telling me about Star City! I thought there was something like it that existed, but I wasn't sure about that either. Thank you, once more!
Alexnandru: All I can say is that Slade will be…well, how do I put this? Hmm…this will take some time… Yes, Rose won't be easy later on—but for this fic, I think I'm going to catch her before she went all evil and stuff like that…Of course, her transformation to "The Dark Side," will quite fascinating to write…It's okay that you didn't review—seriously. But how did that happen with your account? That's weird…Cancer you say? I had no idea this was causing you so much suspense—apologies…but cliffhangers are so fun to write! Admit it, they're fun…even if people use half their review to threaten your life if you don't update soon…and then they compliment you right after that. Strange, no?
Pickles12: Have no fear: I won't tell him…not that I could, LOL. So glad you liked the chapter, and here is your update.
Anaconda13: So glad you liked the last chapter—here is an update just for you, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!
Aeris-Raven: 'Go screw themselves,' eh? LOL, that made me laugh pretty hard…but nobody yelled, thank God. Yes, poor Robin…I'm glad you liked the thing with Cyborg's disk. I wasn't sure if people were going to be skeptical about that too or not…but I guess they weren't, since there were no flames… I'm thrilled that you're still reading this story! Here's an update! (Do I say that a lot at the end of my review responses or what?)
Kazzy103: (Goes red in the face) Shucks…it's not that good… Yes, Rose won't be easy (She's called the Ravager, you got that right) but for this fic, I think I'm going to make her all right. And Slade's response? Yes, many people were asking about that…you'll just have to wait and see…ooh…getting an idea here… And you don't sound stupid either (LOL about the swim team thing!) I know what it's like to feel like a zombie after lack of sleep. Trust me… I hope you like this chapter!
Pirategirl89: Ha ha ha! Kudos to you for giving me such a hilarious mental picture! Slade in a tutu…wow… But don't worry; I got no flames, only more encouraging responses…so I think that's a sign to continue. And, have no fear, I am not doing a Mary-Sue; from what the comics say about Rose (that's Slade's daughter's name) she pretty much kicks ass. Please keep reading!
Note: This thing with Rose may be a slight AU for a couple of reasons:
One—Let's just say she's still a teen, mainly because it'll be easier for her to interact with the other teenage characters, okay? Plus, I want to catch her in a moment before I have to follow the comic history…
Two—Rose has already been taken in by her adopted parents, Mark and Margaret Madison.
Three—Since she's still a kid (in a sense) Rose isn't the Ravager…well…not yet, anyway.
Chapter Eighteen: Rose
Rose-
Her mother was kneeling beside a bed, carefully wrapping the wounds of a strange man. Usually, the only type of men that came to her mother's business were seeking a female companion for the night. This one was…different.
Maybe it was the weird way her mom was acting—gently easing bandages around his cuts and soothing him with kind words. It was the same, affectionate way her mother treated her when she was younger and had slipped and cut her knee on the pavement…
Or maybe it was the man himself—when he had appeared, so late at night, he hadn't begged for help (battered though he may have been) but simply asked if he might come in. She didn't know why, but she felt like, though she was just meeting him for the first time, she had known him nearly all her life…or had she? His name was something like "Slade Wilson…" It didn't sound familiar…
And then there was that other guy; kind of on the elderly side, but he had a sense of awareness about him that made him appear more aloof than other older people.
She couldn't see him at the moment, but she was pretty sure that he was there in the room somewhere, standing to the side and looking on…though she'd think that he'd be helping his friend, rather than doing nothing—
"What are you doing?"
The voice came from behind her, making her jump in shock.
…So maybe he wasn't in the room like she'd guessed.
The guy—she thought she'd caught his name when they were coming in; was it Wintergreen?—was staring down at her, eyebrows raised.
"Do you often sneak downstairs at—" Wintergreen checked his watch. "—One in the morning to spy on your mother and her guests from a crack in the door?"
She felt a blush creeping to her cheeks. Caught again; typically, it was her mother who found her, scolding her softly (so they wouldn't disturb the patrons), before sending her back to bed. But this was just as bad.
The girl was about to open her mouth—which had gone dry—attempting to give a plausible excuse, but Wintergreen's eyes had moved to her hair.
"Did your mother let you dye your hair?" He asked interestedly, as if he were making casual conversation. Slowly, she shook her head.
"I see…"
An uncomfortable silence hung between the two of them, as she stared at her stocking feet, and he stared at her. Then—
"I think you had better go back to sleep," He said firmly, but she was a bit relieved to see that it looked like he was withholding a smile. "I won't tell your mother, but only if you're up in under five minutes."
Immediately, she nodded, eager to agree. Creeping across the wooden panels of the floor, she hurried up the stairs, careful to skip the steps that creaked…but she knew the man's eyes never left her; she could feel the sharp, gray irises cutting into her like knives. She couldn't understand why, though…
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Boarding school. Honestly. What had Mark and Margaret been thinking? That it was a good idea to lock her up in a building with a bunch of rich, pretentious snobs, whose parents had brought them up by giving them everything they ever wanted?
Rose Worth (Yes; no matter how many times she tried to explain to herself that, technically, her name was 'Madison' now, she still refused to accept it, choosing to remain under her mother's maiden name) sighed as quietly as she could, before returning to the text book in front of her…then glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to go…Great.
They were supposed to be reading Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." It was okay, but when their "teacher" (who really did nothing but sit at her desk and read romance novels behind some other big, impressive cover) made them read it for the seventh time that year…well…someone like Rose could easily get tired of all those annoying "thee's" and "thou's," and whatnot.
Of course, she had the option of just shutting the book—it wasn't like anybody would notice. Nearly the entire class had anyway, and were now whispering behind their hands and passing notes. It was an "all girls" academy, supposedly one of the best around.
Yeah. Sure.
If Rose had her way, she would have taken a rock and given all the annoying, giggling girls she knew here a good smack in the head…sadly, that was pretty much the entire school, including the teachers.
'Why did I agree to this again?' she thought wearily, eyes starting to close out of boredom.
But she didn't even need to ask that question, because she knew the answer:
It was her final, desperate act to try and claim for herself the life she might have had, if things had possibly been normal…it was also to get her thoughts off a rather painful track that her mind had been revolving around for who knows how long; it was something that every child feared, not that their hopes or wishes made any difference in the matter…
Daddy doesn't love me.
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She was screaming as loud as she could, trying to scramble away from the man that was steadily advancing on her. He grabbed her by hair, jerking her up until her toes barely touched the floor. Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn't cry—she had to be strong…but she was so scared…
"You know it won't do you any good," The stranger breathed in her ear; his breath was sour, and she tried to move her head away.
"Do you know who I am?" He growled, giving her hair another wrench. Rose gave a pitiful whimper and whispered "No," in a small voice.
He laughed cruelly and threw her to the ground, where she landed painfully on her elbow.
"I am the Ravager!"
His voice boomed in the dark, as though she were surrounded by millions of enemies, and it made her curl up tightly in a ball.
"I don't care," She whispered. "You don't need me for anything."
He seemed to laugh even harder.
"But of course I do! How else to strike against your father than by taking his only child left?"
Rose shook her head violently.
"Y—you're w—wrong…I—I—I don't have a f—father!"
"But of course you do…perhaps you recognize the name of Slade Wilson?"
The man her mother knew? But that was impossible! Wasn't it?
He took a step forward, and she inched away, avoiding his touch.
"Why are you doing this to me!" She wailed helplessly, mind still spinning and racing from the staggering concept of her father being revealed so suddenly, and by this monster. She wished she were a million miles from here…
The man had ceased his cackling, and, gripping her shoulder with fingers as cold and as hard as steel, roared at her:
"Because I hate Deathstroke…and as I said… the only way to get to him…is using you."
And the tears began to fall.
------------------------
Rose felt her hands curl into fists at the memory, fingernails digging into her palms. It hadn't been fair, to find out about her father that way…
She was extremely confused, something that she still felt even to this day. Wintergreen said that her mother had kept her from her father because it was "in Rose's best interest."
How could her mother even think that separating from her own dad was a good thing?
And anyway, because she hadn't known about her father, everything had gone wrong. If she had known that he had enemies (especially ones so powerful and vengeful), or that he had been a mercenary—he had killed people? It bothered her a bit, to think of her own dad being a murderer—maybe she would have been prepared for the Ravager's attack.
The girl's eyes cracked open a bit, glancing hopefully at the clock on the wall. Five more minutes…the wait was practically killing her…
Rose closed her eyes again and leaned back in her chair, stretching her spine. She waned leave this stupid, miserable city tonight; Gotham was nothing like New York, her real home, nor even Chicago, which, much to her own shock, she had discovered she was adapting to.
Mostly because there was nobody left in the world left to care for her.
The girl felt a single tear prick in her eyes, and she kept them closed, leaving no chance for it to escape and roll down her face.
Stop it.
Her mental protests did no good.
There was still her foster parents. They said they loved her very much. And, of course, they were kind and all that…but it wasn't the same.
Wintergreen said it wasn't her fault—he had said it many times. But Rose couldn't help but feel responsible…if she'd never been born…maybe her mom would still be safe…
'Don't think about that,' she thought a bit more firmly. But it was pointless…
She tried so hard not to keep dragging up the past and throwing it in her face…Wintergreen was just trying to be nice…she knew the truth, and it was making her slowly die inside.
My fault…all my fault.
------------------------
Rose watched the jeep go over the cliff, eyes wide with horror. This couldn't be happening…she was just having a nightmare, and at any time now she'd awake, screaming…but at least it would just be a dream…
A protest began rising in her throat, threatening to erupt in a shriek of terror. It couldn't be happening! No! No! NO!
She kept chanting the words in her head, hoping that if she kept it up, time would replay, and the car would still be on solid ground.
A hand was placed on her shoulder, and Rose lifted her tearstained face to look at Wintergreen; he rarely showed any expression, but from the grief and pity of his face, she knew that he could understand her pain.
"We should go," He whispered, wincing as they both heard the vehicle finally smash into the rocks below, breaking apart.
"MOM!"
Rose tried to run forward, but Wintergreen held her back, trying to calm her, explaining that the Ravager would be back soon, and that they had to escape while they still could.
He had to carry her off, while she was still yelling and pleading for her mother to come back. She couldn't get it through her head that her mom was dead…gone forever…
Because of her.
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The afternoon air was humid, weighting down on those people who made their way back home, wiping sweat out of their eyes.
Needless to say, Raven was practically burning up, with her cloak still cast tightly about her shoulders. Her hair stuck to her scalp in limp strands, and her feet were beginning to ache from so much walking.
She could seriously learn to hate Gotham City by now.
God, when she got her hands on Robin, she was going to kill him!
The passerby glanced at her curiously—though with a hint of alarm as well, as they caught sight of the expression of her face, that barely bordered on an outburst of rage. Raven barely acknowledged them, too focused on her current situation to be bothered with anything else.
What a pity. It would prove to be her undoing. To put it plainly, he had rather been looking forward to facing off with the Goth girl.
But it would appear she was just like the other three…
And would be just as easy to dispatch of.
Holocaust cracked his knuckles in anticipation, fire springing to his palms as he prepared himself for the upcoming fight.
Rose-
BRING!
The bell rang, and door after classroom door opened into the hallways of the school, waves of students pouring out to run—screaming and cheering as they celebrated the end of the day—to their rooms, where they could meet up with friends and make their plans for later that night.
Only Rose shifted along in the opposite directions, avoiding the giggling masses. To be quite honest, they freaked her out a bit; but they felt the exact same way about her—the "outsider" with the screwed up family life—so there were no issues there.
Carefully brushing a rogue strand of hair out of her eyes, Rose quickly unzipped her backpack, dumping her books inside, before she proceeded to push the heavy gray doors open, walking out into the blazing sunlight.
The rules of the school ordered that she inform a teacher before she left the school's grounds, for her protection. They were concerned for her safety, even if Batman patrolled the city nonstop. According to the principal, "there were predators everywhere, waiting for young girls" like them.
Screw them, Rose thought bitterly, descending the concrete steps that led down to the street. They could punish her all they wanted—she didn't care any more. Life sucked enough as it was, and there was nothing they could do to make it worse.
She was just about to consider where she felt like going—either the library or the park—when someone said her name.
"Rose Wilson?"
It wasn't so much that she was surprised about a total stranger calling out to her, but rather that they had said Wilson. How had—?
She had no time to ponder, as she turned to face a boy around her age with messy black hair and clear blue eyes, dressed in a grungy pair of jeans and a simple t—shirt.
Why did she feel like she'd seen him somewhere before?
"That's me," She said, frowning as she scrutinized him. "Can I help you, uh—?"
"Grayson. Richard Grayson."
"Uh—huh…did you want something?"
The boy nodded.
"Yeah…is there somewhere that we can talk without being interrupted?"
Rose regarded him warily.
Robin-
He could have sworn that he'd nearly fallen over in shock when he discovered that Slade had a daughter. He almost didn't want to believe it, it was so…twisted. But when he'd seen her walk out of the school, there was no doubt about it; she looked exactly like the picture from the disk, besides the fact that she was a bit older now.
And so…
Here they were, the two of them, sitting in an outdoor café, with him staring at his tea, while she continued to size him up.
Obviously, she didn't trust easily.
Robin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, pulling slightly at his shirt. It was so weird, how he'd forgotten what it felt like to be…well… "normal."
How strange did that sound?
"So…" Rose said, drawing the word out as if she were unsure whether she should go on or not. But when Robin did nothing, she shrugged and said: "Not to be rude or anything, but…who are you anyway?"
"I thought I already told you that," He said with a thin smile, gulping some of his tea and instantly burning his tongue. Rose frowned.
"No. I mean, how do you know me? I've never met you before in my entire life."
Thankfully, Robin had thought ahead, carefully planning his lie.
"My father knew your mother."
Rose raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"He did? I don't remember—"
"You probably wouldn't. My dad told me a long time ago. I think we met once." He offered a friendly grin. "But I don't remember that either."
Rose nodded slowly, still watching him. Robin wasn't quite sure if she believed him or not, but she showed no outward suspicion, so he went on casually.
"When my dad died, awhile back, he told me he wanted me to give something to your mom. I had no problem with that. The real question is, do you?" He leaned forward slightly, and it was Rose's turn to edge about in her seat.
"My mom's dead," She said bluntly.
Robin took great care to appear shocked, as if he hadn't heard this news before.
"I'm…I'm so sorry."
Then, after pausing, he added, with true sincerity this time:
"I know what it's like to lose a parent."
Rose nodded again, noncommittally, taking a sip of her drink for the first time. Robin cleared his throat.
"I, uh…well…your dad's probably taking this pretty rough, I'll bet?"
"I don't have a father," The girl said instantly, setting her cup down, clacking the china against the iron—woven table. Robin tried his best to be surprised by this news too; he had been guessing that, either Rose didn't know about her father, or she was protecting him.
"Uh, but I thought…?"
Robin let his sentence trail off under Rose's dark stare.
"Sorry. It's not any of my business."
An uncomfortable silence hung over the two of them for awhile, both teens unwilling to start speaking.
Then:
"He walked out on me a long time ago, after my mom died," Rose whispered softly, so quietly actually, that Robin barely caught it.
"Why?"
Rose sighed, and her white hair fell in front of her face.
"He didn't want me…"
Rose-
She was actually pretty terrified, meeting her father for the first time, not to mention she was still recovering from the horrifying experience that had occurred barely a few days ago.
Rose lingered outside the door of the living room where he was waiting for her. Wintergreen bent down and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
"Come now, Rose, you must go in. He wishes to speak with you, and I am sure it is quite important."
Rose shook her head sadly, grabbing Wintergreen's hand desperately.
"Please! Just tell him I'm too tired! I don't want to talk to him right now. I can't…" She added in an undertone. The old man gave a soft, kind laugh and moved her forward towards the closed double doors.
"Don't be afraid. He will not hurt you. And I will be right outside when you finish."
The little girl bit her lip.
"You promise?"
Wintergreen nodded solemnly and nudged her inside, shutting the doors behind her with a quick snap. Rose Worth (or was her last name Wilson now?) stood there, scuffing her feet on the carpet in a nervous manner.
A fire was crackling in the hearth, the light from the flames casting dark, eerie patterns along the walls, shadowy fingers reaching out to stroke the spines of the books on their shelves that lined the perimeter of the cozy room. A man stood, gazing at the steadily burning logs, his back to her so that she could only see the outline of his form. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and his hands were folded neatly behind his back. Finally, she murmured in a tiny voice:
"D—Daddy?"
The man turned to face her, his gray eye (Wintergreen told her he'd lost his other one awhile back) watching her with true remorse.
"I suppose Wa—I mean…the Ravager told you who I was?"
Rose nodded quietly. The man who was her father chuckled bitterly and turned his back to her once more.
"I have made arrangements for you."
His daughter paused, confused, but waited patiently for him to explain.
"You will be a teenager soon, so Lili told me. She also told me that you were a pretty good fighter. I…I have heard of a team of gifted teenagers being formed over in Jump City. Do you know where that is?"
"No…"
Where was he going with this?
"I believe that it will be a good place for you to go. Wintergreen will take you, and you can stay with them—"
"What?"
Slade turned, looking surprised at being interrupted. Rose didn't care; her mouth had dropped open in shock and she was gazing at him in horror.
"B—But—Daddy, I—I…I want to stay with you!"
"No. I can't let you do that."
"Why not! Dad, please, I want to live with you and Wintergreen. I don't want to go to—Jump City? Where is that? Please, Daddy—"
"This is the end of our discussion. There is nothing more to be said."
Rose stood there helplessly, arms dangling limply at her sides. Her father faltered, then took a step toward her and placed one of his hands on her shoulder; she noted it was gloved, and metal bands on it made it heavy.
"…I am sorry about your mother's death. I loved her very much."
The girl remained still, head down so that he couldn't see her resentful tears. He left her with her thoughts…
"…Wow…I can't imagine how that must feel…"
Rose raised her hands in a hopeless sort of manner, and Richard bowed his head sympathetically.
"To think that you were left by your own father, especially when you've got no one else to take care of you."
"Actually," Rose muttered, dragging up another memory within her mind. "Wintergreen, the friend, offered to adopt me. But my father said no…and left me…"
Her fists curled back into fists, but she hid them from view. Richard shook his head with pity.
"God…I'm so sorry. So—" He indicated his head at the distant shape of her boarding school. "—How'd you wind up here in Gotham? I thought your father said for you to go to Jump."
"Wintergreen arranged it so that I didn't have to go like he ordered, and I was taken in by foster parents, Mark and Margaret Madison; they live in Chicago, and they sent me here because they thought I needed a change of scenery…not that either of the cities look that different," She grumbled, shooting a mock evil glare at a nearby office building. Richard stifled a snort of laughter.
Unfortunately, it was at that very moment that Rose caught sight of a few girls from school, rounding one of the corners with pockets stuffed with cash for yet another shopping spree. She stood abruptly, banging one of her knees on the table and nearly upsetting the two mugs of tea.
"Uh, I'm really sorry to cut you off, but I really gotta go—" she pointed briefly at the oncoming group— "It was nice to talk to somebody, even if it was really short. I'm sorry about your dad."
Richard shrugged, getting to his feet as well.
"It's okay. I guess you could say the two of us have got some things in common."
Rose smiled.
"Yeah, I guess…So I'll see you around sometime?" She asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. She was starting to feel bad about doubting him; this Richard guy was the first person she'd met here that wasn't completely shallow.
The boy flashed her one last smile.
"I have no doubt…"
And he trudged off, Rose watching him go with interest. There was just something about him…
Oh well.
To be Continued…
That was a weird ending…So, anyway, don't forget to review, and—more importantly—don't forget to mention whether you think I should go ahead with a sequel or not.
And, last but certainly not least, I must post a notice: The next update will not come until…probably next Saturday. My family and I are leaving tomorrow—vacation. You know…Well, see you later!
Until next time:
Rebel-Aquarius
PS: Did I do a good job depicting Rose and Robin?