Tempest: Chapter Fifty-One: Contemplations

AN: I've been tip-toeing around the subject of Romani!Dick probably as long as I've been writing him because there are so many debates about whether or not that's considered canon or retcon, but the response to me delving into his cultural side was largely positive, so if I make any mistakes with the Romani culture, let me know.


"How's Coast City?" Amara asked as worked on typing out the outline to an English paper.

"It could be worse," Roy conceded on the other end. "Green Lantern's not so bad."

Amara rolled her eyes. "Well, you've got a lot to talk about, seeing as he's dated a villain before."

"Wow, that was subtle."

Amara laughed, twisting a pen between her fingers. "Seen Jade recently?" She hadn't seen her since she'd left Central City, but she'd gotten a few texts, so she wasn't too concerned. Besides, Jade was an assassin, it was more likely she was off on some other country stabbing someone with her sais.

"Around the time I left your place," Roy said, "since then? Nothing."

"Anything fun going down in Coast City?" Amara asked, pausing in her typing.

"Living vicariously through me?" Roy retorted with the sound like gunshots in the background, but Amara wasn't too worried about it; Roy wasn't like her, he was more careful about getting hit than Amara was.

"Something like that," Amara muttered, running a hand through her hair.

There was silence on the other end briefly. "I heard from Hal that you left your dad a message."

Amara wrinkled her nose, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "That's not a question."

"Amara," Roy warned.

"What?" Amara demanded.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to your dad."

"That's why I left the message, Arrowhead," Amara rolled her eyes like there was something he wasn't getting.

"I think you want to talk to him," Roy countered, making Amara frown, "or you wouldn't have called him in the first place."

Amara blew a raspberry, tapping her fingers over the palm rest, looking annoyed at nothing. "You need to stop hanging around with Dinah," she said.

"You're just saying that because you miss her."

"You're not helping," Amara said coolly.

"I'm sorry," he said, "anymore nightmares?"

"No more than usual," Amara sighed. "Stop worrying, Roy, I'm fine."

"The problem is you seem to attract trouble just by breathing so not worrying isn't really an option," Roy retorted dryly.

"Thank you so much for that," Amara smiled stiffly, "it's doing wonders for my self esteem."

"I don't need to worry about your self esteem, you wouldn't be flirting with everything that moves if your self esteem was low."

Amara grinned widely. "Well, one of us has to be skilled in that area."

"Remind me again which of us has a girlfriend?"

A smirk painted across her lips. "I've kissed your girlfriend, you know, and I'm thirteen, Roy, I'm more worried about keeping up my grade in math than getting a girlfriend or boyfriend."

She chewed on the end of her pen. "I've got to go, Roy, I've got to finish this English paper outline before three today."

"See ya, Storm Warning."

Amara canceled the call and frowned at the picture at her bedside of the Team, all dressed in their uniforms, all grinning at the camera.

God, she missed them.


"Do you care if I go out for a ride on my motorcycle?"

Harley looked up from a medical file to consider Amara. Pamela was working at the Gotham City University doing botany and toxicology research for them, but Harley worked from home as a for-hire psychiatrist every so often.

"Need some fresh air?" Harley smiled.

"Something like that," Amara said, her eyes drifting off slightly.

"Be back for dinner, all right, Petal?"

"I promise," Amara smiled as she made her way out to the garage, the door opening with a loud sliding noise as she tugged the helmet over her head and revved up the motorcycle, racing off into the crisp October air.

She hadn't driven around by motorcycle in awhile and she'd missed it, missed it more than she'd been expecting. But she'd done most of it heroing with the Star City heroes and she wasn't there anymore, and that wasn't happening.

A soft sigh left her lips. Regret simmered in her veins. She missed being Storm Chaser, almost as much as she had when Merlyn had put her in the hospital, and she hadn't even been able to use her legs back then.

She tightened her grip on the handlebars and gritted her teeth together. The trees blurred together as she moved past them until she made it out of the private road and onto the asphalt street.

Usually it was better for her to clear her head by flying, but Amara wasn't really feeling it today, though there was the potential for a storm later, judging by the storm clouds overhead, and those were always fun.

She took a deep breath in and out, careful of the cars moving around her, since cars were a bit notorious for cutting off motorcycles and sometimes causing them to be upended, and she got the feeling that Pamela wouldn't be very pleased about her being involved in a car accident.

Amara didn't really know where she wanted to ride, Sea Isle City was more than an hour away and it was much faster to fly.

Wally lived in Keystone, but Artemis and Dick both lived in Gotham, though almost in opposite directions, and she had seen Artemis recently.

The last time she'd seen Dick had been as Masquerade and it hadn't gone terribly, given how her encounters with friends tended to go, as evidenced by Roy getting a bullet through the arm.

But Dick was the least likely to get shot, mostly because his dad was Batman, and being on Batman's bad side didn't usually end well for anyone.

Amara checked her watch quickly. It looked like class was almost done for the day for him…she could drop by Gotham Academy, if she wanted…maybe Dick wouldn't be too annoyed with her showing up.

If he could handle the snobby students there, then so could she.


Barbara Gordon put up with a lot at Gotham Academy, and she couldn't fathom why her father, the police commissioner for Gotham, had sent her there in the first place, but at least she had Dick.

Or Dick had her.

Her friend's brow was creased into a frown, his knuckles white as he gripped the strap of his bag tightly.

"Ignore them," Barbara nearly growled, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

"I'm staying whelmed," Dick threw a grin towards her and she rolled her eyes.

"That's not even a word!"

He only laughed as they came completely out of the school to wait out on the curb for Barbara's father and Alfred to pick each up respectively, and they only arrived in time to see a motorcycle speed up, curving up against the curve.

Barbara considered the motorcycle and its slight of frame rider. "Who d'you think is getting a ride on that?"

But then Dick watched as hands tugged the helmet free, only to reach one up to run a hand through loose red curls.

His heart dropped into his stomach as Amara Allen turned to smirk at him.

"Never seen you in uniform, Richard," she said slyly, "it looks good on you."

Dick smacked his face with his hand, feeling the embarrassment spreading, flooding across his face. "Why are you like this?" he muttered more to himself than to anyone else.

Barbara stared at the girl, easily her age with similar red hair and a heart-shaped face and green eyes that glittered with mischief, wearing a leather jacket with what looked like Black Canary's symbol sewn between the shoulder blades.

"You know her?" she asked her friend dubiously.

"I'm Amy," the girl said, eyes looking over her in a single glance, "you must be…Babs?"

Barbara shook her hand. "Yeah, that's me."

"Richard mentioned you," Amara said airily, "but he didn't say you were cute."

Barbara's cheeks turned pink and Dick flicked Amara's cheek.

"You need to stop flirting with everyone, it's going to get you into trouble."

Amara pouted. "I'm here to crash the mode, babe, playing it safe isn't really my style."

Barbara mouthed 'babe' in incomprehension.

"How was Russia?" he asked her instead.

"Cold," Amara smiled, "constant storms, you know, my kind of weather."

It almost felt as though there was a tension in the air, one that Barbara couldn't quite describe.

"How do you feel about walking through an orchard and having a talk?" Amara asked a bit cautiously and Dick scrutinized her for a few seconds.

"Are you going to buy me some hot cider?" he asked.

"Sure," Amara laughed. "Don't pretend you don't want to spend time with me, Richard, I know you too well."

Dick rolled his eyes, but he still hopped onto the back of the motorcycle, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"It was nice meeting you," Amara added to Barbara who remained rather dubious as Amara placed the helmet back onto her head and revved the engine and wheeled away before Barbara could say anything else.


The Stone Hill Orchard wasn't just an orchard, you could buy cider and pies and things like that. Amara had never been there before, but neither had Dick, so they could wander around the orchard aimlessly as they pleased.

"Still having problems with bullies?" Amara asked him before taking a sip from her mug of cider.

"I'm a trouble-maker," Dick cheeked and Amara's eyes glittered.

"You're not," she laughed, "you just go to school with a bunch of jerks."

"True story," Dick muffled with a sip of his own cider.

"How's the Team been?" Amara asked. "You know, without me."

"Boring, well not completely," Dick had to correct himself, "but not as much fun when you're around."

"You flatter me, babe," Amara said, linking her fingers with his. "I'm sure you guys are fine without me."

"Fine, maybe," Dick acquiesced. "But we work better as a team with you."

"Sounds like you're trying to convince me to come back," Amara said, taking another swallow of her cider.

"That's the hope," he said and Amara couldn't help but shake her head slightly.

"Wally already tried," Amara pointed out, "I hung up my cape."

"You didn't believe in capes," Dick retorted, tugging on their linked hands to pull her to a stop.

"Still don't," Amara admitted, "they're completely useless, I'd probably trip over it and—"

"But you still miss it," Dick pressed and Amara sighed, dropping her eyes down to where their hands were linked. The contrast between her fairness and his pale olive wasn't hard to take note of.

"Richard—"

"You can't say you don't," Dick added, "I know you, remember?"

"Which is a bit unfortunate, if you ask me," Amara grumbled, swinging their linked arms in a bit of aggravation, glancing back to a couple picking apples coming close to where they were standing.

She jerked him into moving once more.

"I miss it," she admitted, her eyes distant, "being Storm Chaser is…it's who I am…but I can't—"

She gritted her teeth together and expelled a breath through her nose.

"I'm sick of the lying and that's all the Justice League has done, I can't do it," she said, her shoulders sagging. "My own father lied to my face, Richard, how would you feel?"

"Pretty annoyed," Dick had to admit, "but it's been almost a month, I probably would've forgiven Bruce by then."

"Then you have a kinder heart than me," Amara decided against the lid of her cup of cider, taking a large gulp that scorched down her throat.

"I like to think you're just better at holding grudges." Dick couldn't help but smirk as Amara gave a bit of a dramatic eye roll in his direction.

They walked in silence for a short while, meandering through the trees with their bright apples.

"Back when Wally and I stayed at the manor with you," she said suddenly, making him look to her, "you said your classmates didn't like the idea that you were adopted by Bruce Wayne…it wasn't just that, was it?"

Dick sighed, hiking his bag higher on his shoulder. "No."

"They have a problem with you being Romani?" Amara presumed.

She wasn't very familiar with the culture, but she didn't have to be; it was part of who Dick was, and that couldn't and shouldn't be changed. Still, he didn't talk all that much about his past to begin with.

Dick's silence was an agreement that Amara had never wanted to hear.

She gritted her teeth together before bumping her shoulder against his. "Tell me about your family's customs."

Dick lifted his head to stare at her in surprise. "You really want to know?"

"Sure, why not," Amara grinned, "you know about my family, it's only fair."

And Dick actually smiled. "Well, family was pretty important to us…my mother didn't want us to forget about that even though we were in the circus."

"Were both your parents Romani?"

"Mom less than Dad, but yeah," Dick bobbed his head in agreement. "Aunt Karla almost exploded when someone asked her to read his fortune, she hated when people assumed that was all the Romani were famous for. She was ready to bump a bottle of rakia on his head before my uncle could hold her back."

"Rakia?" Amara asked in confusion.

"Oh, it's a kind of alcohol," Dick backpedaled. "Dad and Uncle Rick drank a shot whenever we had a really good show."

He smiled faintly. "I don't remember a lot, I was just a kid. I think they were more focused on keeping me from attempting some dangerous tricks."

Amara's lips curved into a smile. "They sound nice."

"They were." Melancholy overtook his features faintly. "Are Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn nice?"

"Worried?" Amara grinned.

"Well, they have killed a lot of people," Dick had to point out, but Amara didn't appear to be bothered.

"Better a murderer than a liar," she said with shrug, making her friend stare at her, mouth wide and gaping.

"Those two things aren't even close to being the same!"

Amara arched an eyebrow and tapped a finger to her temple, but she didn't really explain the reasoning behind that thought.

"Come on," she said instead, tugging on his hand, "we should head back; I need to drop you off at the manor before your dad sends out a search party for you."

"Bruce wouldn't do that," Dick complained as he was dragged along behind her.

"Well, I'm not sure I'd want to find out if he did," Amara decided and Dick couldn't fault her desire for self-preservation.


The Joker didn't like losing control or losing control of people.

Harley Quinn was his wildcard, his faithful and utterly devoted companion…or she had been until a few years ago when she'd decided to go straight with Poison Ivy.

Unfortunately, he'd gotten himself locked up in Arkham Asylum at that point, so he hadn't been able to exact his vengeance on his ex, and then there'd been that mess with the Injustice League that he'd barely managed to escape being caught by the Justice League in the chaos caused by his Joker venom bombs.

He had to admit, though, the idea of her playing the part of mother was frankly hilarious. Harley wasn't mother material, she was barely mentally stable! The idea that she thought she could care for a little girl just made the Joker cackle.

The Joker continued to cackle as brought his lit lighter close to a picture of Harley smiling with her arm around a small girl with red hair in loose curls.

The fire turned the picture to ash.


"So…?"

Dick toyed with his food with disinterest. "So?"

"I heard Amy picked you up from school," Bruce said, not even looking up from the evening paper.

Dick's fork prodded at the tilapia. Usually he had quite the stomach for Alfred's food, since Alfred was actually an amazing cook, but today he wasn't really feeling it.

"Um, yeah," he said, "we got hot cider and walked around Stone Hill Orchard for a bit."

Bruce flicked the paper down slightly, just enough so that Dick could his eyes as he gave him a flat stare as if to say: "And?"

"I tried to convince her to come back," Dick admitted, "but she didn't like that idea very much."

A considering hum left Bruce's lips at that, like it was a response he'd been expecting, but, then again, Amara had always been a bit adamant about staying out of the Justice League.

He knew she wanted to come back, though, and Wally had been sure of the same (of course, Wally had been rather annoyed by his cousin's choice). She missed the Team, missed Dinah and Ollie, missed being Storm Chaser, and missed her father, even if she wasn't going to admit it.

Dick didn't know what he'd been expecting and it wasn't as though he could begin to understand what she was going through, but still…hadn't it been long enough.

"Don't press her," Bruce suggested. "If this is something she wants to take another go at, then you have to let her come to that decision on her own."

Tough talk for someone who had sought out Masquerade, Dick thought, but he didn't voice that.

"What if she doesn't come back, though?" Dick pressed. "Or what if it takes years for her to come back?"

"Dick," Bruce sighed as he put down the paper, "Amy's old enough to make her own decisions."

Dick pursed his lips, but he didn't bother to argue when Bruce was right.


"So how was your ride?" Harley asked when Amara returned to flop down onto the cushions of the couch opposite her.

"Stone Hill Orchard is nice this time of year," she said as a reply, making Harley smirk where she was sitting reading what looked like one of her trashy romance novels that always made Pamela's nose wrinkle when she saw her girlfriend reading them.

"I've never been," Harley said, tilting her head thoughtfully before smirking, "sounds romantic."

Amara couldn't really understand that, but romance had never been one of her strong suits. It didn't feel very romantic when she'd walked though with Dick, just talking and drinking cider.

"Whatever you believe," Amara snorted, "maybe you should take Mom there if you think it's so romantic?"

Harley bit on the corner of her lip as she smirked. "Maybe I should. Making out in an orchard sounds classy."

Amara rolled her eyes. "You two are too crazy to handle."

The door opened with a sharp noise as Pamela returned from work and both looked up upon her arrival. Pamela never wore her hair down at work, it was always bound tight into a bun, Harley said it was because she was too pretty with it down, but Pamela claimed it was to keep her hair out of her eyes. She was wearing her white lab coat over black slacks and green button down blouse.

"Hubba, hubba," Harley purred, leaning back to rake her eyes over her girlfriend as she pulled her hair out of her bun, raking her fingers through her hair. "You can pick me up anytime, babe."

Amara made a face at that while Pamela smirked.

"Oh, yeah?" Pamela dropped the lab coat over one of the couches before making her way over to where Harley was sitting, curling her arm around Harley's neck as she unceremoniously dropped herself into her girlfriend's lap to give her a kiss that Harley responded enthusiastically.

It was hard to see where Harley ended and where Pamela began.

"You're both disgusting," Amara decided before standing. "And I'm going to go to my room before I contract whatever it is that you have."

They broke apart with a laugh as Amara disappeared up the stairs before reaching the ladder that led to her room.

Harley and Pamela were easy to love, like Barry and Iris, and Amara wished she could say the same about herself, but she wasn't.

"Maybe I should just go back?" Amara wondered aloud before releasing a loud sigh as she flopped face forward into her bed, muffling her aggravation.

Trust Dick to make her question her choices when she'd been so adamant about them previously.

Maybe she should call up Roy and ask him?

But it wasn't Roy's choice, it was hers. And the trouble was…Amara didn't really even know what she wanted.

Storm Chaser was as much a part of her as Oracle was, as Masquerade was.

But the question of whether or not Storm Chaser's time was done was still up in the air.


The next day Amara found herself out shopping with Harley, much to her aggravation.

"Harley," she bemoaned, "what are we even doing out? I don't need more clothes and my room as enough stuff in it, and I've got an exam in Science class in three days to study for."

Harley scoffed, waving her hand. "Oh, come on, Petal, we both know you're going to ace any test in science, you're a whiz in that."

It was raining around them against their umbrellas, but the shops were still busy, which was unsurprising. Amara didn't mind the rain, but she'd still have preferred to be at home.

"Besides," Harley laughed, "the house could always use, you know, sprucing."

"Sprucing?" Amara repeated a bit dubiously. "You've been living there for months and you just now want to 'spruce' it up?"

"I'm so changeable, baby," Harley winked and Amara rolled her eyes, dipping the umbrella back slightly that almost resulted in her getting doused, but Amara moved it back in place at the last second.

"You're completely insane," Amara proclaimed with a loud laugh as Harley darted to look over some merchandise on a cart that was covered with a tarp to keep them dry.

Harley was so spontaneous that Amara had a bit of whiplash from it, though it wasn't altogether a terrible trait.

She stood back to watch Harley peruse what was out on the street, but she couldn't help but feel as though there were eyes on her and she tightened her grip on her umbrella in order to look to the side.

For a moment she saw nothing, so she thought maybe she'd just been imagining it, but that would be too simple.

Amara narrowed her eyes at a man standing within the rain, not even bothering with an umbrella, just a wide-brimmed hat.

That was vaguely suspicious.

Then the hat lifted upwards to allow Amara to catch sight of the pasty white skin, a hint of the green hair, and the impossibly wide smile.

Her eyes widened when the gun was drawn up, aiming towards one person in particular.

The gun went off and then there was nothing but screaming.