Warning: some heavy romantic content inside (not exactly smut but toeing that line). And just for context- I highly recommend watching John Mulaney's 'Kid Gorgeous at Radio City' (on Netflix) for some of the bits in this episode. And if you're already familiar, enjoy the delightful tie in.
Alexander Neill stayed at the table with his colleagues for a while, ogling the dancer. He pulled the woman down to him so he could whisper something in her ear; whatever it was, she pretended to be teasing but slowly made her way away from the table in a rejection. He got up and went to the bathroom, presumably for some one-on-one time with his hand. That was when I got into position on the gargoyle above the Olympus balcony; guys like him thought a cigarette after orgasm was a requirement.
Just as I'd suspected, he spent about three minutes in the bathroom, then came out onto the balcony by himself and lit a cigarette. I inwardly prayed he'd washed his hands, then leapt off the gargoyle and glided down to the balcony, tackling him mid-torso and barreling over the side with him. He tried to scream, but the sharp intake of breath after a drag on his cigarette only produced a breathless choke of a cough. I shot the grapnel hook out just in time to swing Neill under the highway overpass and onto the metal catwalks over the roads below. I dropped him flat on his back and towered over him, one foot planted at his side and the other coming to rest firmly in the middle of his chest.
He gagged to catch his breath, his eyes tight and squinted as he struggled to breathe. "Fuck off, Bat-freak," he snapped at me as he tried to fold over, but I increased the pressure of my high-heeled boot on his chest. His eyes opened and he took a good look up at me. He stopped resisting me and began to relax onto his back. "Oh," he said, his eyes wide as he scanned me up and down, "or not. Why don't you come a little closer, baby?"
I lifted my foot so that I could bring my knee down hard on his chest, knocking the wind back out of him and tightening his lungs. "That close enough?" I asked as his eyes watered and he sucked down air. "Where's Black Mask getting the drugs? Who are the suppliers?"
"You think I'm tellin' you…"
"I know you are," I interrupted him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tilting his face to look at mine. "The suppliers. Now." His face broke into a smarmy smile, though his hands stayed at his side, bracing himself against the cold metal beneath him.
"Let's make a trade," he suggested a bit breathlessly, confident despite the bruised ribs beneath my knee. "I'll tell you everything you wanna know. And in exchange… I get five minutes under the cape, huh?" My jaw tightened as my patience dwindled, and I stood at my full height, deciding I'd have to be a bit tougher on him than I was on Simpson. "Whadda you say, gorgeous? Anything you want, if you're willing to hang." I smirked down at him.
"Sure," I said, grabbing the grapnel hook from my belt. "Let's hang." I shot it down at his foot so that the hook wrapped around his ankle, then I yanked the cable hard to the side. It pulled his body diagonally off the catwalk so everything midthigh and above was dangling over the edge. I kept a tight grip on the cable and gun, ensuring he wasn't going anywhere, but I wanted to remind him of his mortality. He yelled and screamed for God, trying to grab onto the metal of the catwalk to pull himself up.
"Fuck!" he screamed as his fingers slipped and he failed to regain control of his weight. I was aware that it wouldn't take long for someone to hear his screams; he was dangling over the main road, and the music of surrounding nightclubs and traffic was loud but not so loud to drown him out. "Let me go, bitch! I'm not sayin' shit, and we all know Batman don't kill!"
"But I'm not Batman, am I?" I asked, loosening my grip on the cable and allowing his weight to slip further until only his calves were still clinging to the catwalk.
"Fuck! Damn it, pull me up, I'll tell you what you want, pull me up!" he screamed. I began to reel him in, slowly. As soon as his base was under him again and he had some semblance of safety, I grabbed him by his shirt collar and knelt over him.
"I want names," I demanded. He shook his head, trying to force a confident smile but coming up short.
"I don't always get names," he said to me, his eyes meeting mine briefly before scanning over the cowl. "It's not like I take their goddamn information, I'm buying drugs off 'em."
"Then I want locations. Where were the exchanges?"
"It was all random. It was wherever was convenient at the time, we didn't have a set place…"
"Do you need time to think about it?" I asked as I made a fist of his shirt in my hand and pushed him towards the edge of the catwalk again.
"Nononono," he rushed out in one word, his eyes darting down at the road far beneath us. He began to rattle off locations; I paid attention and pictured each one as he listed them, but didn't make myself paranoid about remembering the list- I knew I could always pull up the video from my cowl to recall the list at a later time. He gave me names or nicknames when he could, but he primarily gave me locations- that at least gave me somewhere to start. "That's it, that's all I got."
"Some of the cocaine was laced with something else, a separate drug," I said in a low voice. "Do you know who supplied that batch?"
"What, you have a bad trip?" he asked snidely. I took a Batarang off my belt and flicked it into view, bringing it abruptly close to his cheek. "Stop, I…" he nervously raised a hand in submission as I held it to his cheek. "I don't know. We buy from a lotta low lives. I figured most of it wasn't good shit."
"This wasn't just mixed with baking soda," I said, "it's mixed with tricyclic antidepressants. Who supplied you with it?" His eyes darted downwards as he thought about it, and I watched as a thought dawned on him. He lifted his chin as he came to some sort of understanding.
"So that's what got us on your radar, huh?" he asked. "Those ODs in Bludhaven?" I pressed the batarang closer to his cheek, on the edge of creating an incision in his flesh. "I don't know which dealer it was," he defensively muttered as he tried to avoid the blade. "I don't remember where we met… it was an apartment building, I don't remember which. But he wore a hood, kept his face low… it was dark." I kept the pressure of the Batarang on his skin for a moment, then flicked it together and replaced it on my belt as I stood, gripping the grapnel gun tightly as I got my footing under me.
"So when do I get my five minutes?" he said smarmily as he grinned up at me. I smiled down at him.
"Oh, I'll give you more than five," I said, then planted a forward kick on his shoulder that knocked his entire body off the catwalk. I held the gun tight in both hands as he fell the length of the cable, his body dangling from the catwalk just high enough that he wouldn't get hit if any trucks came down the road but low enough that he was visible to pedestrians below.
I detached the cable and tied it around the catwalk iron; I'd leave him for the cops to sort out.
I got myself back to the Batcave and diligently went about recording everything Neill gave me; he'd given me eight different locations. Five were apartment buildings, two of which he could account for who he'd met there. That left three locations across the city that could be where Scarecrow had exchanged his drugs for cash.
But it was also 3am, and I didn't have time to case out these locations tonight. So while Batman was still out casing The Oblivion Bar and searching for Red Hood, I packed it in. I changed and showered, but on my way out of the house I heard noise coming from the living room near the kitchen. I crept down the hall to see amber light spilling into the hall. When I poked my head around the corner and into the room, I saw a skinny, boyish looking comedian on the TV and two heads of black hair lounging on the sofa as they watched: Jason and Dick.
"Bittenbinder, he didn't want us to not get kidnapped. He wanted us to almost get kidnapped and then fight the guy off using weird, psych-out, back-room Chicago violence…" the comedian explained as I stepped into the room, creeping on the balls of my feet. I lowered my face next to Jason's ear as he chewed on a mouthful of popcorn and whispered…
"Boo."
He jumped and almost spit out his popcorn as he groaned, "ahhhh what the hell." Dick looked up to see me and had a giant smile on his face.
"Hey, you," he grinned, then toned down his excitement when he remembered we weren't a public item. "Late night?"
"I could ask you the same," I said, stepping over the back of the sofa and redirecting my attention to the comedian on the tv.
"Well, thank ya for askin'. I used the Bittenbinder method. When I saw the perp approachin', I chewed up a tab of Alka-Seltzer I carry with me at all times. This created a foaming-at-the-mouth appearance that made it look like I had rabies. Now I've thrown him off his rhythm…" the comedian said in a high-pitched Chicago accent.
"What are you watching?" I smiled with a shake of my head.
"It's a comedian. Dick likes him," Jason shrugged.
"Amy recommended it. He's actually really funny, if you watch it from the start," Dick smiled up at me. I sank into the cushions at Jason's side, grabbing a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in his lap.
"Sure, if you say so," I said as I stared at the screen.
"You hanging out?" Jason asked. I looked at him nervously with my mouth full of popcorn.
"Um… unless you want me to go?" I mumbled through the food.
"Nah, stay! You just… haven't really hung out before. It's cool," he said. He looked around him, his eyes darting over to Dick and lingering for a long moment before returning to me. "You sure you want to sit on this side? The lounge part over by Dick is super comfy." I smiled, completely aware that Jason was trying to get me to cuddle up next to Dick.
"I'm good here, thanks," I said, relaxing into the couch cushions and popping another piece into my mouth. I felt rather than saw Jason look at Dick and gesture towards me, and Dick drop his hands to his lap in an act of mock defeat.
"Okay, so when you get kidnapped, the place where the guy grabs ya, in the biz we call that the primary location. Okay. Your odds of coming back alive from the primary location, about 60%. But if you are taken to a secondary location, your odds of coming back alive are slim to none. I am 35 years old and I am still terrified of secondary locations," the comedian explained to uproarious laughter.
"This is very dark stand-up," I said with a small smile. After spending my night beating up thugs, it hit a little close to home.
"I swear, you just walked in on a creepy part," Dick laughed. Jason leaned forward and grabbed his glass of water off the floor, then quickly poured it down his front-side.
"Oh no!" Jason whined in mock-disappointment. "I got my shirt all wet! Now I'm gonna have to go change," he said, handing me the bowl of popcorn as he rose with the glass of water and stared sternly down at Dick for a moment before rushing out of the room.
"Do you want us to pause the show?" I asked.
"No, it's fine, just… you know, keep going without me!" he suggested as he ran away. I cast a knowing glance at Dick.
"That was smooth," I smiled.
"Gotta give him credit, he's trying," Dick said as he cast a glance over his shoulder at the empty doorway Jason had left through. Dick cast another glance back at me suspiciously, then vaulted off the couch and looked out into the hall. It must have been empty, because he came back and immediately planted his hands on my cheeks and bent his face over mine, kissing me deeply. My breathing swelled as he stood over me; the rush of his hands on me here, where we wanted no one to see us together, made the kiss even more intimate.
"Mm-mm," I said as I pulled away. "Not here," I had to remind him. He squinted evilly down at me and reached over me. His hand groped over my neck and chest, then landed in the popcorn bowl.
"Oops. Sorry," he said as he grabbed a handful of the snack before hurrying back to his spot on the couch. I shook my head at him.
"Yeah. Sure you are," I acknowledged with an eye roll, putting the bowl down on the floor. We kept watching the special, and Jason returned with a new shirt on about fifteen minutes later.
"Sorry, what did I miss?" he asked, clearly hopeful that we'd be cuddling on the couch by the time he'd returned. But we smiled up from our separate spots on the couch innocently.
"A bit about college and donating to charity," I answered. "Still kinda twisted stuff…"
"I swear, he's really funny," Dick said.
"You keep saying that, but I'm still not so sure," I laughed. Jason nodded, either suspicious or disappointed to see we weren't canoodling. He came around the couch and strategically decided to sit on the other side of me, leaving the gap between me and Dick vacant in case we wanted to move closer.
Clever, kid, but not clever enough. Two could play at that game.
As the stand-up continued, I brought my legs up under me and kicked my ankles toward Dick and leaned my head towards Jason. At my proximity, I could have laid my head in his lap. As I absent-mindedly munched on a piece of popcorn and watched the show, I noticed Jason tense out of the corner of my eye as he froze. I could see Dick shrug at him, and I managed to time my laughter so that it seemed like I was entertained by the comedian, rather than at Jason's silent panic at me cuddling closer to the wrong person.
We watched the rest of the act like this, Jason seemingly "thrown off his rhythm" enough to stop playing matchmaker between me and Dick. At the end of the show, it was after 4am and we were all pretty worn out.
"I was planning on just staying here tonight," Dick shrugged casually at me, "but do you need a ride home? I can take you." I watched Jason's eyes get big as he looked away, trying to play it cool. I looked out at the dark sky outside and nodded slowly.
"Yeah, actually… that'd keep me from having to wake Alfred or call an Uber to Wayne Manor," I shrugged.
"That okay with you, Jay?" Dick asked. Jason raised his hands submissively.
"Hey, don't let me get in the way. I'm just headed to bed. You two should… do whatever you want, so…" he awkwardly saluted us and started meandering away sleepily.
"Goodnight Jason," I called after him, and he awkwardly turned back, opened his mouth to reply, then stopped himself, then waved, then realized how weird that was, then continued down the hall to bed. I stifled a chuckle as I turned to Dick. "You ready?" I asked. He looked me up and down deviously before nodding his head to the side and directing me back towards the garage. We got on his bike and left the garage in a roar of the engine. When we got to the front gate, Dick slowed the bike to a stop by the manual override box- but he didn't need to. He had a sensor on his bike that triggered the gate to open. "What's wrong?" I asked as he turned off the engine and lowered the kickstand. I took the hint and got off the bike, taking off my helmet. "What is it?" I asked again. He took the helmet out of my hands and put it down on the back of his bike, then grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the manual override box. I looked down at the box, expecting to see something amiss, but he pulled me past it. With both hands, he turned me around and pressed my back against the brick pillar of the gate.
The memories of the night not too long ago flooded back through me; the night when I'd failed to catch Joker, when I'd lashed out at Jason and Dick in a rage, when Dick saw through my pain to the cracks beneath and refused to leave when I'd pushed him away. He had me in the same position I'd been in then, his hands on my arms and my back pressed against the gritty, cool bricks. My chest swelled as I inhaled a nostalgic breath, lusting for the memory. He looked down at me, a hint of a smile on his lips with serious, searching eyes.
"That night," he whispered, "it took every fiber of me to step away from you." His hands moved slowly and softly up my arms, pressing my shoulders flat against the cool bricks. "What I'd give to have that night back, to have the chance to ask you again…" I closed my eyes as I exhaled, savoring the feeling of his fingertips as they pressed back into my biceps. He took a step even closer to me, so close that I could feel the warmth of my breath bounce off him. "Tell me what you want," he whispered to me. I felt myself collapse inside my own body with longing as he said it, and I opened my eyes to meet his. I let our eyes search each other's for a moment, raising my hands first to his chest, then behind his neck where my fingers laced together as I held him.
"I want you to take me home, Dick," I said with just enough of a smile that he knew I didn't mean my home. I pulled his face to mine in a kiss, and he pressed me flat against the bricks behind me with the force of his longing. My hands left his neck and combed into his soft, tussled hair. His hands shot up to my wrists and pushed my arms up overhead, pressing my wrists softly against the gritty brick pillar as his lips left mine and kissed over my chin, down my neck, his teeth biting at my shoulder as I let out a lusting moan. I pulled my arms down quickly, unable to wait any longer, and pushed him back to his motorcycle.
If it wasn't Batman's front yard, I would have pushed him into the trees right there and taken him.
But since it was, I yanked the motorcycle helmet on and Dick sped home as quickly as he could. Before the elevator arrived at his apartment, my legs were wrapped around his torso as he carried me to the kitchen counter- that's as far as we made it before our patience ran out.
The next day, after I actually got some sleep in, I spent some time with my dad so he knew I hadn't totally fallen off the face of the Earth. The walk in the park had been scheduled for a few days so I knew dad wouldn't try to work overtime through it; but I also scheduled it because it was time I had a conversation I'd been avoiding.
"Hey bumble bee," my dad called to me as we watched a group of geriatrics working at chess tables in the park. I shook myself out of the fog I was in and smiled at him. "Where are you?"
"I'm here," I reassured him. He shook his head and shifted his weight to bump against me.
"What's on your mind?" he asked. I tightened my smile as my gaze dropped.
"That obvious, huh?" I asked, wondering how I was able to hide anything from him at all.
"I'm your father," he reminded me, taking a sip of his coffee. "Gotta have some kind sense about these things." I smiled wider, wanting to laugh at the number of secrets we held from each other. "So, what is it?"
"I'm, um…" I squinted as I sorted through my many options of wording, "I'm getting a promotion." Dad reeled back a little, grimacing as he looked at me.
"That's great," he said, seeming confused. A smile loosed across his face and he shook his head. "That's amazing, Barb, congratulations. Gosh, you had me worried…"
"They're giving me an apartment," I said, finishing the thought. Dad stopped his excitement in its tracks and raised his eyebrows. He seemed choked on his reaction.
"Oh," he said, looking down at his cup. "Wow, that's… that's amazing, Barb. What's the job?" I shrugged and shook my head.
"It's more of what I'm doing now… deeper queries on consumer data, individualizing engineer processes and data to optimize…"
"Eh," dad slowed me down, interrupting the rehearsed bullshit that I knew would disinterest him. "And they're giving you an apartment?"
"Yeah," I nodded, my fingers fiddling with the lid on my coffee cup. "You know the old clock tower on Bleake Island? Wayne Tech bought it for office overflow in case of employee displacement… but they offered me the apartment with the promotion. Something about the facilities being more secure if they can make it zoned for business and residential? But it requires a fulltime tenant, so…" I shrugged.
"That's fantastic, Barb," he said, wrapping an arm around me and squeezing me tight to him in a side hug.
"Yeah?" I asked, the real question clear: you're really okay with me moving?
He understood the question and smiled down at me. "Of course, Barb," he said. "You're an adult, most people your age have been on their own for years now." I rolled my eyes and tilted my head as if to say, thanks. "Not like that. We both know you've stayed where you are for one reason and one reason only," he said, looking down at me with understanding eyes. I didn't bother denying it- he was right. Ever since mom left, it felt like me moving out would be abandoning him too. "But you've got your own life. You don't need to take care of me." I turned to face him.
"I'm not gonna be far," I explained. "I'll actually be closer to the station, so I can meet you for coffee before work or for lunch. And we can see each other every weekend…"
"Barbara," he slowed me with a cautionary hand and a smile, "I'm fine. I'm happy for you. Really." I smiled back at him and wrapped my arms around him in a hug, thankful for everything my father was.
"Thanks, dad," I said into his shirt as I hugged him.
"So when's the move?" he asked as I pulled away.
"A couple weeks," I said. "I told them I needed time to pack and all that."
"And we've gotta get you some furniture," he said, and we started planning an upcoming trip to Ikea. "I wonder if they still make Murphy beds…"
That night, I found myself back in the Batcave yet again trying to persuade Batman that pursuing Scarecrow was more important than chasing down Red Hood.
"Joker and Quinn will surface any day now," I argued. "They're not exactly great about staying under the radar."
"That's what worries me," Batman speculated as he looked up at the monitors of his computer. "Joker's only quiet when he's planning."
"Scarecrow is the opposite of quiet. He's killed over a dozen people, and he'll kill more if we don't stop him. Who knows what his plan is for this toxin he's brewing up," I wondered aloud.
"How many overdoses have been caused by the cocaine Black Mask's men are trafficking that don't include Sample X?" Batman asked. I leaned over him and keyed the report in so it popped onto the screen.
"None," I answered as the results showed. "Every single cocaine overdose in the supply radius in the last month or so has shown traces of Sample X in the autopsy report. And there have been no deaths in the last week, but that only tells us that he's retreating, changing his formula. The next batch will be worse."
Batman quietly evaluated the reports I'd pulled up on screen, then minimized those screens and enlarged the addresses I'd mapped for him. "These are the locations you got out of Neill?"
"Yeah," I answered, "who, by the way, was picked up by GCPD after our chat last night. His arraignment will be in the next few days. You're welcome." Bruce turned to look up at me with a small smile, proud but cautioning. "All three are apartment buildings: two on Founder's Island and one on Bleake." He scanned over them, evaluating how threatening it might be.
"Case the buildings," he finally decided as he stood and reached for his gadget belt. "If you see any movement or signs of Scarecrow, call. We'll take him down together."
"Understood," I said as he snapped his belt on and grabbed his cowl. "What about you?" I asked.
"One of Penguin's thugs was just released from the hospital and is out on bail; his police report indicates he was guarding the alley that the hostages Red Hood released escaped through. I want to know if he knows anything else," Batman said. I exhaled with a nod; Jason probably wouldn't be able to go out at all again before Batman let him put on the Robin gear. Bruce was obsessed.
"Let me know if he produces any leads," I nodded diligently. "We can take Joker down together too." He took off in the Batmobile and I took off on my motorcycle, heading to the first apartment building on Bleake Island. I pinged Nightwing's comm unit on the way.
"Evening," he said, sounding a bit out of breath.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just stopped a drug deal; Black Mask probably won't be happy with me very soon," he said flippantly.
"He's got to be pretty grumpy with me, too," I said. "I'm on my way to case out three locations of deals made, looking for the spot Scarecrow handed off his drugs."
"Be careful," he advised me. "Neill's bound to have told Black Mask to expect you at those locations. He may have contingency plans in place for you."
"I'll keep my eyes peeled," I answered as I veered onto Bleake Island.
"Where are the places you're hitting?" he asked.
"One on Bleake, two on Founders. I'll send you the locations," I said.
"Want help?"
"No. You're busy- keep making sure none of Sample X hits the streets. We're close, Nightwing," I said as I veered my bike into an alley near the first apartment building.
"You got it, boss," he said, and I closed the comm link. I quickly shot the addresses over to him, then proceeded to case the first apartment building.
I was incredibly cautious as I scoped the places. I used my detective mode, looking for recent activity, and scanned the surrounding areas for any traces of radiation or gunpowder or anything else that might indicate a bomb. I used facial ID software to see if anyone walking around the corners was a known Black Mask or Scarecrow associate. I even located nearby cameras in the GCPD network and rewound the footage through the past 24 hours, using the same facial ID software to run checks.
Nothing turned up at the apartment building on Bleake Island; nothing at the first building on Founder's, either.
But the second building on Founder's piqued my interest. There were no signs of imminent threats or any of Black Mask's men found nearby; but there was a small tuft of air that held traces of a tricyclic antidepressant- just like the ones found in Sample X. The tuft of air was small, like someone had squirted a bottle of perfume out their window and onto the fire escape. I went to the roof opposite to get a closer look; I could see a smattering of a chemical inside the window; maybe bleach. Was someone trying to cover something up? I hopped quietly onto the fire escape and looked in the window.
The apartment was entirely empty, detritus and forgotten pieces of furniture littering the inside. I put my hands carefully on the exterior of the window, scanning for tripwires as I did, and pushed up lightly; the window was unlocked. I slid it open and crouched low as I entered the apartment. It was clearly abandoned; my cowl showed no one was in the apartment, though neighboring apartments were full of sleeping tenants at the late hour. The deal couldn't have gone down here, it was too private. But the supplier may have been through here.
I stepped towards the door to see if I could find an apartment number; if I could figure out the unit, I could sleuth around online to find the renter. There was an emergency exit sign on the interior side of the front door, showing the fire escape and directions to the stairwells in case of emergency. I was in unit 1223; twelfth floor, unit 23. I looked to the ground to see a sticky note stuck to the dust at my feet.
July 1. Roof. 1am.
A meeting. I was almost a month late, but there was still the slim possibility that there'd be some kind of evidence up there. I went out of the apartment the way I came in and shot my grapnel up to the roof. As I did, my comms pinged: Alfred was broadcasting a message to all of us.
"Sir, the police have just received an emergency call from The Iceberg Lounge," Alfred said, and my attention split between the roof I had just landed on and his news. The roof was cluttered with air conditioning units and large electrical cabinets; plenty to hide behind. "It seems Joker returned to the Iceberg Lounge and, when Cobblepot was less than hospitable, he killed a doorman. He's just fled the scene."
"I want a tracker on him. Where is he?" Batman demanded in his typical growl. This meant recording what I could as quickly as possible and joining Batman in pursuit.
"He's carjacked a red Tesla Roadster, last seen heading south of the Bowery towards New Gotham," Alfred noted. I turned towards the edge of the roof, looking in the distance southward to see if I could find any signs of the action. New Gotham was just a few turns away from Bludhaven- maybe Batman, Nightwing, and Batgirl would be fighting together tonight.
"I'm in pursuit," Batman noted.
"On my way," I raised my hand to my earpiece as I turned back towards the rooftop. But I wasn't alone.
A cloud of white flew at me and I inhaled a gasp of surprise as it coated my face. Initially, I felt embarrassed; everyone on the open comm line would have heard my yelp. But then I looked down at the white powder covering my face and upper body and I froze in panic.
It was cocaine. Worse, it was laced cocaine.
Scarecrow.
I could feel my muscles tightening, and the rooftop seemed to tilt around me. I thought I could hear the voices of Batman or Alfred or Nightwing in my ear, but I couldn't decipher what they said. My eyes landed on the brown hooded figure of Scarecrow ahead of me. The mask he wore made his mouth appear to be stitched closed, but he smiled viciously down at me.
"Yes- breathe it in," he insisted. His face began to twist and he was hovering closer and closer; I blinked my eyes shut and shuttered away, unable to separate the hallucinations from reality. I felt my body wanting to collapse beneath me, my entire body choking on the powder I'd inhaled. I needed to get out of there. "I heard whispers you might be looking for me. And look at what you found."