28. Daddy's Falling Angel
Dora placed the small pink box on the counter.
Although it was around 3 o'clock in the morning, there were a few people behind her at this corner pharmacy. Gotham never slept.
A tired-looking middle-aged woman scanned the box absentmindedly and was about to place it in a bag, but the register chirped an error code.
Dora frowned, an itching sensation crawling up the back of her neck. The people behind her were staring.
The clerk inspected the box, holding up the box for all to see. Dora's face flushed. She could literally feel the judgmental looks. Or maybe she was just imagining it.
Someone snickered. She wasn't.
"This is a restricted item," the woman droned. "Date of birth, sweetheart."
"10, 09, 92," Dora muttered, then slapped a few bills on the counter and grabbed the box before the clerk could quote the price. "Keep the change."
She hurried out of the pharmacy. The Impala was waiting around the corner, parked in a side alley. She yanked the driver's side door open and jumped inside. Relief escaped her in a sigh.
"What's that?" Jason asked from the passenger seat. He wore both his baseball cap and his hoodie. The tip of a cigarette glowed as he took a long draw. The embers illuminated his eyes, making them glow a sulfurous yellow. He flicked the butt out of the open window and exhaled a thick cloud. Dora could smell that it wasn't tobacco. In his other hand, he tapped something into a small phone, then pocketed it.
Dora decided to dismiss all that and ripped open the box. She shook out the contents and fumbled with the blister pack. It'd be easier to open if her nails weren't so short.
"You okay?" Jason asked.
She stared at him until he met her eyes.
"We do not need to have this conversation, right?" she asked.
He held her gaze for a second, just so she knew he understood. Then he slid off the cap and hood, picking up the box she had torn up.
Plan B.
His eyebrow arched. "Oh."
"Oh?"
"When we..." Jason stammered, "you said we didn't need protection… But hey, don't sweat it, next time I'll…" He paused because of the flat look on Dora's face. "What?"
"There's going to be a next time?" Dora asked.
Jason's demeanor changed, a grin stretching his lips. "Are you kidding, Dee? Of course. I know you want to."
They both looked at each other for a long moment. There seemed to be embers behind Jason's blue eyes, ready to ignite with the cinders in her chest.
Dora chewed on her lip. He was right. Of course, there would be a next time. The details were extraneous. After tonight, if they were alone together, their chemistry would make it inevitable.
Jason smiled, handing her a water bottle. She swallowed the pill with a few refreshing gulps of water. It had gotten a lot hotter inside the car for some reason.
"You never told me how the car feels," Jason said.
She turned the key and it rumbled to life without hesitation, like earlier.
"Um, smooth. No trouble starting… it's not sputtering or shaking like it used to. No weird noises or creaks… I mean, this car belonged to my grandpa before my dad inherited it, so I've never driven it in anything close to new condition, but I guess… this is as good as it gets? Never actually driven a brand-new car either, for whatever that's worth."
Jason just looked at her with his brows raised.
"I guess what I'm saying is… It's great. Thanks, Jay."
He rolled his eyes. "I'd feel better if I hadn't led you to believe it was stolen at first. Sorry about that again. I know how much this car means to you. It means a lot to me too."
Dora gripped the steering wheel tightly, feeling the leather grooves under her palms.
Jason fidgeted with latch of the glove box.
Their eyes drifted to the review mirror, framing the backseat.
Cars weren't made like this anymore. Bench seats meant all kinds of activities were possible inside the Impala. They were together for the first time in this car. Ever—for both of them. Awkward and clumsy as it was, they had shared something magical, so the memory was precious.
"Yeah," Dora sighed, trying to recall a less embarrassing memory. "Remember when I first told my dad we were friends? He made you rotate all the tires before we could hang out."
Jason snorted, adjusting the mirror by his door. "And when you told him we were dating, he made me help him replace the water pump and cooling loop."
Dora laughed, one that came deep from her belly. "Yeah, he liked you. He didn't trust anyone but you and me to work on this car with him."
Jason's pale blue eyes darkened with shadow. Dora was amazed at how the color of his eyes could change, just by looking at a certain spot, furrowing his brows, or narrowing his eyelids.
"Yeah, can I tell you something, Dee?"
"What is it?"
He fidgeted with his baseball cap. "Red Hood… this vigilante persona. This isn't who I am. At least not who I always want to be." He reached over and grabbed her hand. His thumb caressed her knuckles. "If… No, when I give it all up… When my mission is over, I'll do this." He jiggled the gearshift. "Be a mechanic. Refurb cars. Run my own garage. Just wanted you to know that."
Dora's heart swelled.
Jason had an endgame.
With her.
Suddenly, a daydream flashed through her mind.
Of her and Jason, and a little girl, sitting on the front steps of a brownstone house, its exterior covered in vines, with potted roses on the stoop, and a shiny Impala parked on the curb.
As quickly as the vision appeared, it flickered away.
"Hey, let me drive." Jason straightened up. "You've barely put this thing through its paces. Switch spots with me."
"Um, okay." Dora was about to get out and walk around to the passenger side, but instead Jason grabbed her jean's waistband. With that leverage, he pulled her off the driver's side of the seat and onto his lap.
Dora suddenly found herself straddling him, her arms on his shoulders, his hands on her hips—her chest in his face.
She was suddenly very conscious of how tight her t-shirt was in this position.
Jason noticed. He squeezed her hip with one hand, while the other slid up her side, underneath the fabric of her top to tickle her ribs. Goosebumps pricked up the skin of her chest and tightened her—
Honk!
Dora jumped in surprise as another car passed them by. Her head hit the ceiling of the cab and her glasses fell off.
Jason chuckled and picked them up. He placed the eyewear back on Dora's face, his hand lingering on her cheek. "Never noticed you had freckles on your nose before. They're cute."
Dora's glasses suddenly started to fog up. Reluctantly, she slid off Jason and onto the passenger side.
"Alright, buckle up," Jason said, putting the car in gear.
"Okay—WHOA!"
Before Dora could reach for the seatbelt, the Impala was already roaring away from the curb. She screamed as Jason turned a corner without slowing down. She slammed into the door, then anxiously remembered it was the one with the loose handle and she hadn't locked it. She slammed the lock down, just as Jason turned another corner and she slid into him. Her hand was on the seat belt, and it ratcheted as she inadvertently pulled it out to its full length.
"Jason, slow down!" Dora shouted.
He simply laughed.
Thankfully, he had turned into a straight open avenue. It was still relatively early in the morning, so the street was empty.
Dora finally managed to buckle herself in, just as Jason stomped on the clutch, and slapped the gear shift. A mad look shimmered in his eyes as he whooped at the top of his lungs.
The Impala's engine snarled and the whole car jerked as the gear shifted. Inertia slammed Dora back into her seat, her glasses nearly flying off again.
"Jason!" Dora screamed, as they rocketed down the empty street toward an intersection.
He kicked the clutch and punched the lever.
The car roared and went faster.
"Jason! Slow down!"
The intersection loomed ahead of them.
It wasn't empty.
Dora's stomach sank and her heart leapt into her throat. "Jay, slow the fuck the down! You're going to kill us!"
"Don't worry, I got this!"
He sped up even more. It was as if he couldn't see the cars crossing his path up ahead. Was he blind?
"Stop! Please! Oh, no! NOOOOO!"
The intersection was only a few hundred feet away now, and Jason wasn't slowing down. Dora grabbed the door handle and her seatbelt and braced for impact.
At the last possible moment, Jason did a weird dance with the clutch and gearshift, and the car shuddered. Dora lurched forward a bit, only to slam into the seat again as Jason tugged on the steering wheel and stomped the brake. She suddenly wished her seats had headrests.
The tires screeched like bats as the Impala drifted around a tight right corner, narrowly missing the intersecting traffic. Horns blared and tires screamed.
Dora shrieked through the entire turn. She felt like they were going to tip over; gravity wasn't behaving like she was used to.
After what seemed like decades, the Impala cleared the intersection, snapped back on course with the new road, fishtailed a bit, then straightened out.
"Hell yeah!" Jason whooped, slapping the steering wheel.
Dora's heart pounded, still pumping adrenaline through her veins. The residual high left her dizzy and nauseous and unable to speak. She might have peed herself a little, but she was too anxious to be sure.
After a minute, Dora finally had enough breath and sense to say, "What the fuck, Jay? Are you trying to get us killed?"
"Trust me, Dora," he said looking ahead. "This isn't what kills us."
The confidence with which he said that was kind of unnerving.
The rest of the trip was relatively smooth sailing. Jason didn't make any wild turns, but he certainly did not abide by any speed limit or obey any lights or signs.
She noticed after a few streets that they were headed to towards the waterfront by Sprang Bridge. At four in the morning, it was either too late or too early for any business, legitimate or illicit, to be conducted. Gotham was desolate. No one was walking or driving around this part of town. A murky gray fog hung around the buildings and spires in the distance, while an opaque mist drifted above the river. The sun gave off light from the behind the horizon but none of it cast upon the city.
While some would call it cold, grim, and isolating, Dora found it calming and tranquil.
By the time Jason pulled into the lot of Morrison Motors, the Impala was cruising at an easy casual pace. The gravel crunched as he drove across the lot, past all the ricers, bikes, and semi-trucks. They finally stopped in front of the stand-alone garage where Jason had worked on the Impala—and where he had finally unmasked himself to Dora.
He shut off the engine with a final reverberating growl and handed her the keys. "So, what do you think?"
Dora smirked, looking at the fob. She took a large breath and shook her head. "What the hell did you do to my car? I didn't even think this was the kind of car that could do all that crazy stuff."
"That's because I completely replaced the engine."
"I have a new engine?"
Jason's smile was as mischievous as it was proud. "Well… Not just 'replaced' I guess."
"What do you mean?"
"Your car has the body of an Impala, but the guts of a Camaro. Engine, transmission, exhaust…" He counted off on his fingers. "Refurbished, refitted."
Dora stared at the hood for a moment. Her car wasn't just fixed, wasn't just upgraded… it was completely transformed.
"Is that a problem?" Jason asked her expectantly.
She thought for a moment and landed on one question. "What's the gas mileage?"
The smile on Jason's face melted off. "Um… what?"
"Well, it's awesome that it's fast and all, but Jason, I live in the middle of one of the largest urban sprawls in the world, with what's possibly the worst traffic in the country. Outside of these two magical hours before dawn when all the cabbies are asleep and not on the road—when will I have the opportunity to use it to its fullest? I'd never drive it like you just did now."
Jason blinked.
"So, I ask again. What's the gas mileage?"
His eyes narrowed, and Dora could see he was crunching numbers in his head. "Um, depending on how much you lean on the accelerator, you might actually get a few more miles per gallon than before… Maybe?"
"Maybe?"
"Maybe."
"So, all that time, effort, grief, and you're not really saving me any dollars at the pump?"
Jason looked almost insulted, as if Dora had just slandered his religion.
Dora smiled, and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I'm just kidding. I love it."
After a stunned second, Jason snorted and laughed. He wrapped an arm around her. "You had me going there, Dee."
"How'd you learn to do all this? Fixing cars?" She slid in closer and nestled against his shoulder, thankful again for the car's bench seats. "I know my dad didn't teach you all this."
"Well, he planted the seed. And I was gone for eight years. I learned a lot of things," Jason said, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers. "Most of it was wet work like I told you, and that was hard… but cars? Cars were easy, a hobby. A wholesome distraction that kept me sane while everything else I learned would turn anyone into a sociopath."
Dora squeezed him tightly. "Thank you for my car, Jason. I love it. My dad would love it too."
"I know. I was thinking of him and you the whole time I was working on it."
Her breath shuddered, something bitter surfacing behind her eyes, causing them to water. She hugged Jason tight and buried her face in his chest. She had him back, her best friend, her . . . more than that. . . There was a comfort and relief he gave her that talking to Rochelle or Holly just couldn't achieve.
She did not need to be strong, because he was stronger. He could hold her together because he knew how all the pieces of her fit.
So, she let go.
Tears burst from her eyes, and she sobbed—hard.
Jason wrapped his arms around her and held her as she shook.
"Tell me what's wrong," he asked.
"I miss my dad, Jay. It hurts so much."
He sighed and squeezed her tighter. "I know, Dee. I know."
And he did know.
As complicated as his relationships were with his parents, Jason had lost both.
He kissed her forehead and smoothed out her hair. "If I could do anything to make you feel better… just…"
Dora cried for a few more moments until his words finally sunk in. They got heavier the more they echoed in her head. She looked up at him. "What do you mean by anything?"
Jason touched his forehead to hers. "I mean anything. Just ask. Whatever it is, I'll do it, or die trying. I hate seeing you hurting this way."
With the cool resolve in Jason's voice and everything she had seen him do the last few months… Dora believed it.
He was poised and ready to usurp the throne of Gotham's kingpin: Roman Sionis, the Black Mask. Both the cops and Batman were struggling to keep up with Jason's effect on the city. Jason had the means to make almost anything happen right now. He had power.
Dora asked herself, what could make her feel better? What could heal the wounds in her heart?
She pondered for a few minutes while nestling deeper into his arms. She savored the warmth, comfort, and safety of his embrace. He smelled vaguely like green apples.
But then a thought flitted through her mind.
A very dark thought. At first, she wanted to dismiss it, but it held on.
It planted itself in her chest and it burned. She held her breath, trying to suffocate it.
Jason felt her stiffen. "Dee, what is it?"
She knew what it was, but was struggling to admit it, as much to herself as to Jason. If she put it into words, she would be a monster.
There was something she wanted so deeply, so desperately, it had become an ache she always carried with her. There was a thing she wanted so bad, she would cry herself to sleep at night thinking about it. Her dreams were haunted by it. Her need for it was so profound; it was shameful, blasphemous, abhorrent. At times, like now, it made her cringe with self-disgust.
But she could not deny the truth.
Jason sensed all this. "What do you want, Dora?"
She took off her glasses and pinched her brow, trying collect herself. "I can't…"
"No, Dora," Jason said, pulling her away so she could look him in the eye. "Tell me. Whatever it is, I'll do it."
Her mouth was suddenly dry, but she finally managed to rasp, "I want Black Mask."
Jason's expression loosened; his eyebrow arched. "I'm already working on that," he said, cupping her cheek. "I have been for the past three months. Don't worry, Dee. He'll get what he deserves."
"No, Jason." Suddenly, her chest was on fire. It was burning and Jason's voice and touch could not soothe her. "I don't want you to take him down. I don't want him arrested."
Jason wiped the tears from her cheeks. "No, Dora, I understand. Don't worry, don't be ashamed." He placed his forehead to hers. "I understand."
"You don't, Jason. Let me explain—"
"I do, You want me to kill him. Because of your father."
"No." A heavy sob racked Dora and she tried to pull away.
"Come back here." Jason pulled her back and kissed her. Then he whispered into her ear. "I'll do it, Dora. I'll kill him. I'll kill him for you."
Dora shuddered, tears streaming out of her. She felt sick. "No, Jason, I don't want you to kill him." Now that she had let it out, pure black hatred churned inside her, frothing. Anguish and anger boiled inside her chest and she could not stop it, she could not breathe.
She could no longer hold back the truth. Her deepest, darkest, most guilty desire.
Scalding tears fell down her cheeks.
Rage consumed her.
"It has to be me, Jason," Dora said, trembling. "I want to take his life. I want to kill Black Mask myself."
Notes
Hope you liked that one. You guys have been begging for fluff for ages and here I am giving it to you. I really wanted to amp up the emotional intimacy between Dora and Jason. Last chapter he revealed his dark side to her, so in this chapter Dora reveals hers. They can be monsters together! Aw, isn't that sweet? Plus, I'm working on making Dora more active, so what better way than to give her a goal that drives her?
There have been questions in the comments about the last chapter. Did the Joker kill Jason in this fanfic? The answer is YES, the Joker killed Jason. Jason was kinda/sorta hiding the full story from Dora in the last chapter. He was telling her as much of the truth as he could while not saying that he was Robin, Bruce is Batman, and that the Joker killed him. As much as Jason is pissed off at Bruce, he is not going compromise his identity.
And technically, if you read the Death in the Family arc, Joker was working with the terrorists, so you could consider him a terrorist too, so therefore Jason isn't lying. He's just being very selective with the truth.
Also, I wanted to add a little dose of realism here. Dora hasn't had sex in ages, but didn't expect to have sex, and she's not stupid enough to get pregnant, so of course she goes straight for Plan B. What would you do in that situation?
Continuing on with my fancast of the characters in the story, let's do Dora's parents. Take a moment to remember that Dora is half-white/half-Hispanic.
I've always imagined Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Monty, Dora's dad, from the start. It was always clear as day in my mind as I write. You might know him as the actor that plays John Winchester in Supernatural and Negan from The Walking Dead. He even played Thomas Wayne in the Snyder-verse. He just has that old tired grizzled look about him. He seems like a bad ass dad, no matter what role he's in, right?
Dora's mom Anita I imagine as Cristela Alonzo, my favorite Latin comedian. She doesn't act much that I know of, but I love her comedy, and she 100% has Dora's mom's personality. She's tough as nails from having a rough upbringing, doesn't stand for bullshit, but also knows how to have a good time. She loves her family no matter what, wants what is best for her kids… but she might not be the best parent or role model. She tries though.
What do you think of my choices? What would be your choices to play my characters? Sound off in the reviews. And stick around, I'll do Rochelle and Holly next.
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