Ch. 3 The Black Sheep
"Stephanie, I'm so proud of you," he whispered. His hand grazed my check softly, as if I was as fragile as glass. He cherished me, relishing every second his eyes locked on mine. The blood rushing to my cheeks as my breath quickened.
"Tim, I love…" Tim's body retreating into the shadows interrupted my response; the darkness was engulfing his form. I ran towards the shadows, never able to catch the elusive specter. Before he was completely lost to me I let out a yell.
"Tim!" I screamed as I shot up, my whole body aching as I leaned back on my arms to clear my head. I felt the strain on the bandages on my right shoulder, a sharp sting resonating where I was shot. I then ran my hand over my face, noticing the many smaller bandages that covered the other wounds I accumulated.
It took me a moment to realize that I was no longer in costume. Whoever bandaged me up took the liberty of undressing me. I lifted the covers and realized that my host had the decency to leave on my sports bra and compression shorts. I shook my head to regain focus, and I quickly scanned the room to get my bearings. The sunlight shined through a lone window above a desk on the opposite side of the room. The first thing I noticed was my torn and blood stained costume sitting on the desk. The room I occupied was pretty empty, there only being a small chair that accompanied the desk, a small chest of drawers with a mirror attached, the bed I laid on and a nightstand on the side of the bed. I was about to get out of bed to get my costume back on before I heard the doorknob turn. Before the door opened, I quickly laid back down ignoring my body's protest. I closed my eyes as soon as the door opened. I heard footsteps enter the room and a soft thud as if something was placed down onto the nightstand.
"I know you aren't asleep, you can stop pretending," a husky voice invited. I opened my eyes and I saw a tall, barefoot man wearing a white shirt with jeans. He had ebony hair and looked like Dick and Tim. I allowed the resemblance to sink in until something in my mind clicked.
"You're Jason Todd?" I rasped. My throat was dry due to the fact that I've been asleep for God knows how long. I noticed a look of quick amusement on his face before he motioned to the nightstand. I saw a glass of water and some ibuprofens. I grabbed the glass of water and the pills, popping the pills into my mouth and greedily finishing the water. Only after I finished and wiped the excess drops of water off my lips did I notice that Jason was staring at me.
"Um, what are you doing?" I asked him. Jason Todd, he was the black sheep in our little family. He died, came back to life and became a criminal. Well, I guess I can understand. The whole coming back to life part can be tough.
"Oh me? I'm just checking up on you," Jason replied nonchalantly. He smirked again as he went to grab the chair from under the desk and placed it next to the bed. Jason then spun the chair around so that he could rest his chin on its back. I felt as if his eyes were scanning my entire body.
"Did you really have to undress me?" I spat as I gathered the covers in order to conceal my body before a blush could dance onto my cheeks.
"I needed to clean and patch up your gunshot wound, so your costume had to go. You're lucky, the bullet went straight through and didn't do a lot of permanent damage," Jason indicated. "I tried to patch up the cuts on your face, too."
"Why did you save me?" I kinda sounded ungrateful, he probably saved my life.
"Well contrary to popular belief, I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress. Plus, I have a thing for blondes," Jason smirked. Geez, who does he think he is?
"But I'm Batgirl, I thought you hated us," I questioned.
"Ha, if that's what you want to believe," Jason answered passively.
"You aren't going to make this easy are you?" This was my first time meeting Jason, and from what everyone's told me about him, he's a bad guy. It wouldn't hurt to try to get inside his head.
"Not a chance, Stephanie," he grinned. I quickly perked up. How did he know my name? Intrigue and suspicion boiled within me.
"How do you know who I am?" I interrogated. I was in Batgirl mode now; Jason seemed more informed than he let up to be.
"C'mon Steph, you know who trained me. Bruce always said to be prepared," Jason recited. "Besides, with me being who I am, it's best that I keep tabs on you goodie goodies."
Well he had a point there, Bruce always told us to be prepared. I realized that it was pointless to try to get a serious answer from him.
"Anyways, how long was I out?" I shrugged, wincing at the pain. Ugh, how did I end up in this situation? It was all Tim's fault, why did he have to be such a jerk?
"About a day and a half. It's Tuesday afternoon now," Jason replied.
"Oh crap, I missed a couple of classes, and my mom's probably worried about me," I sighed as I smacked my forehead. I hope I didn't get too far behind. Being a vigilante and a college student is hard stuff. My mom was another story… wasn't sure how upset she was going to be.
"So you just got shot, and you're more worried about school?" Jason teased. A smile appeared on his lips that caused me to chuckle.
"Hey, we all don't get to work at Wayne Enterprises," I instinctively shrugged, causing another wince of pain. My shoulder was not making it easy for me.
"Haha, you know you shouldn't squirm so much. It's going to hurt a lot more." Everything Jason said was always so smug and cheeky. What did I do to deserve him as a rescuer?
"Whatever," I spat as I stuck my tongue out at him. I smelled horrible, like alcohol, sweat and a hint of blood. I scrunched my nose after realizing my obvious odor.
"Want to take a shower? You must be pretty uncomfortable right now," Jason offered. This actually took me by surprise. Why was Jason being so nice to me? Nevertheless, a shower was definitely overdue.
"Alrighty then, I'll show you to the bathroom. You can borrow some of my clothes so you can change," Jason stated as he stood up and returned the chair he was sitting on to the side. He then opened a few of the drawers and retrieved a shirt and a pair of exercise shorts. Lastly, he grabbed two fresh white towels. He laid the items onto the nightstand as he held his hand out to help me get out of bed. A chill ran up my spine as I deposited the covers back onto the bed, my body unaccustomed to the cool air. Jason had the decency to look away while I was still in my undergarments.
Jason's display of kindness surprised me. He was supposed to be a criminal, an enemy, but all he's shown me was sincerity and compassion. He opened the door and across the hall was the bathroom. He handed me the change of clothes and the towels and left me to my shower. The bathroom was simple with nothing out of the ordinary. I turned on the shower and tested the water, waiting for the perfect temperature. I slowly undressed, knowing that any sudden movements might cause jolts of pain. I did a quick look over my body before entering the shower. There were a few bumps and bruises on my arms and legs but the bulk of the damage was concentrated on the side of my face where the bottle collided. Several scratches were scattered down my right cheek, and I felt a bruise on my right temple. I then tried to move my wounded shoulder; surely I would need to put my arm in a sling to help it heal. Luckily Jason used a waterproof dressing so that I could shower without removing the bandage.
I stepped into the shower and let the warm cascading water wash away the soreness in my muscles. I grabbed the shampoo and spread the lather through my golden locks. I used my fingers to comb out any knots that accumulated after being in bed for so long. As I brushed through my hair, my mind drifted, thinking back to how I got into this situation. I remembered the argument that Tim and I had. I remembered being hurt. I remembered how he hurt me. Tears ran down my cheeks, merging with the streams of water that fell through the showerhead.
I stood for what seemed like minutes, allowing the waters to wash away the pain and tears. I then grabbed body wash and scrubbed every inch of my skin until I finally felt clean. Satisfied with my shower, I stepped onto the bathroom rug and began to dry off, careful not to stretch my shoulder too far. I then changed into Jason's clothes and wrapped my hair into the second towel. I noticed that Jason had also left a pair of sandals so I wouldn't need to walk around barefoot. They were a little too big for my feet, but everything Jason had seemed big to me.
I gathered my used undergarments and exited the bathroom, depositing them right next to my torn costume. Babs is going to kill me. I left the room and entered the living room area, where I found Jason sitting on the couch watching the news.
"Oh hey, everything okay?" Jason asked as he sat up, his eyes filled with sincere concern.
"Yeah, great actually. I really needed that shower," I chirped. As soon as I answered I heard my stomach growl loud enough for Jason to hear. A blush quickly crept onto my cheeks.
"Haha, you hungry?" Jason chuckled. "Gimmie a minute, I'll order pizza."
We ate our pizza in silence, making small talk here and there. After finishing our meal, I couldn't hold my curiosity any longer. I directed my question to Jason, "Why are you being so nice to me? Really."
Jason wiped some sauce off his lips as he directed his gaze directly to my eyes. Our eyes stayed in contact for a moment before he answered, "Like I said, you were a damsel in distress."
I rolled my eyes. "Why is it that you never give me a straight answer?"
Jason simply shrugged as he pulled out a gun, "Why, would you rather me try to shoot you?"
My eyes widened, ready to lunge at Jason to get the gun out of his hand. Seconds passed like hours as I was trying to devise a plan of attack. He must have been acting so nice in order for me to drop my guard. Geez how many times am I going to die this week? He noticed my rigidity and laughed.
"Haha, calm down I'm just screwing with you," Jason cackled. I raised an eyebrow, not amused with his idea of a joke. He then holstered his weapon and stood up from the couch, cleaning up the remains of our meal.
"What the hell is wrong with you!? Do you just casually bring out your guns and show them to people?" I yelled, infuriated with Jason's spontaneous actions. He shook his head and continued to clean, a smile forming on his face.
I would have offered to help, but after the stunt he pulled I wasn't in a helping mood. Not that Jason seemed to mind. It seemed as if he was accustomed to being alone. I started to feel sorry for him, that was until I noticed how broad his shoulders were. My gaze then tumbled down to notice the definition of his back under his shirt. Jason had the body of a warrior; forged from the fires of anger and pain, and sculpted to perfection over years of persistent training. After a full minute of drooling over Jason's perfect body, I realized what I was doing and quickly shook my head to erase the images from my mind. Why was I checking out Jason? JASON!
"So, when can I leave this place anyways?" I coughed in an attempt to compose myself.
"Well if you're in a hurry I guess I can drop you off in a little bit," Jason grunted, seeming disappointed that I was leaving.
"Yeah that would be great. Do you have a bag I can borrow? I don't want to carry my Batsuit into my house," I inquired. My mom would flip if she realized my evening activities included me getting shot and beaten. I also did not want to stop by Firewall for security reasons.
"Sure, there should be a duffel bag under the desk in my room," Jason instructed as he was washing some dishes.
I returned to the room I woke up in, and turned on the light. I saw the duffel bag under the desk and grabbed it. I stuffed my torn and bloody Batsuit into the bag, along with my dirty laundry. After zipping the bag, I noticed the pictures on the desk. There were photos of Jason when he was younger, some of them were with Bruce and another one was with Jason, Bruce and Dick. Jason looked so happy, happy that he was a part of the legacy. That was a feeling I knew all too well. I heard a cough as I turned around to see that Jason noticed I was snooping.
"Watcha doin?" he asked while crossing his arms.
"Looking at your pictures. You miss them don't you?" I asked, sincerely concerned.
"It doesn't matter what I feel anymore," Jason answered grimly. "C'mon, I'll take you home."
The car ride was silent and awkward. Jason kept his eyes on the road, and I just twiddled my thumbs. I wondered if I had upset him or something. This whole encounter was just bizarre. After thirty minutes, we finally reached my house. Jason looked around as if he was surveying the area. Luckily it seemed like my mom got called to the hospital and wasn't home right at the moment.
"Nice place you got here," Jason stated in an attempt to ease the tension.
"Thanks. Oh, give me a minute so I can change and give you back these clothes." I replied as I gathered my things and exited his car. I had completely forgotten that I was wearing Jason's large clothing.
"Hold on to them, it'll give me a reason to see you again," Jason smirked as he drove away into the night, leaving me baffled.