CASE FILE #0038: Like Father, Like Daughter

April 10th, 2007

I was never like Batman in one important regard. I never wanted a protege. I never wanted Ellen to follow in my footsteps. I wanted Ellen to stay as far away from the business with Sharp and Strange as possible. Then again, when have I ever gotten what I wanted?

E. Nigma, Private Investigator

Arkham Asylum, 10:15 pm

Lyle Bolton prided himself on being unable to be intimidated by anyone. Not his fellow guards, not the freaks, not even the Goddamn Batman himself. Hugo Strange though? That man almost made his skin crawl. More than anything, he wished he didn't have to be in front of his office. Couldn't be helped though. Bolton squared himself up and knocked on the solid metallic door. "Come in," Strange's voice sounded.

Bolton opened the door and walked into the office. Strange was sitting behind his desk, looking over paperwork. "Bolton," he said without looking up. "State your business."

Bolton scratched behind his ear. "We got a problem with one of the orderlies."

"Oh?" Strange asked, not bothering to look up still. "Who?"

"Sanchez."

Strange put down the paperwork at last and looked up at Bolton, his dark stare penetrating him to the core. "What sort of problem?"

Bolton shuffled awkwardly, averting his eyes. Fuck, he hated being stared at, especially by Strange. "He was giving me attitude ever since...you know. And now he hasn't shown up to work in a few days."

"Is that all?" Strange asked, his tone becoming irritated.

"Yeah," Bolton answered. "Don't you think I should do something about it? What if he starts runnin' his mouth off to somebody?"

Strange folded his hands in front of him. "One orderly accusing the mayor of Gotham without any proof is nothing to be afraid of," he said. "But he could set off a chain reaction amongst the other staff. Find him."

"And if he doesn't want to cooperate with us?"

Strange fixed him with a cold smile. "Find a way to persuade him otherwise."

Bolton smirked. "You got it, boss."

Gotham's West Side, the following morning

"Now, you're sure you'll be alright for three nights? I can come back early."

From her spot at the kitchen table, Ellen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Every year in April, for as long as Ellen could remember, her grandmother would go to Ivy Town for her high school reunion. This was the first year she'd decided Ellen was old enough to be left home alone and not dragged along for a weekend of dealing with older people and a cheap motel room with bad cable. "I'll be fine, Gramma, I'm not a little kid anymore."

Rachel Dixon pat Ellen's cheek. "I know, you're a young lady now. But I'm your grandmother, let me worry."

Ellen smiled. "Yes, Gramma."

Rachel hummed a bit and placed some bills on the kitchen counter. "I'll leave you a bit of money for food, but remember, there's plenty of leftovers in the fridge. Don't spend the whole weekend eating pizza and fast food, it's bad for your skin."

"Yes, Gramma."

"Will $100 be enough? I can stop by the bank before I leave and get more-"

"It'll be fine Gramma," Ellen answered with a wave of her hand. "If I need more, I can always ask the Old Man."

Ellen regretted her words as she watched her grandmother's body tense and her smile turn into a scowl, as it always did whenever she was reminded that Ellen's father existed. She was sixty now, and as petite as Ellen was, but she'd threatened the life of Edward Nigma at least three times that Ellen knew of already. "Only if you absolutely need to," she said. She began to mutter under her breath. "That man thinks if he throws a few thousand at us every month that that makes him any kind of a father-"

"Gramma," Ellen groaned. "Not now. Please?"

All the fight in her grandmother seemed to go out at the plaintive tone in her voice. "Alright. Not now." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I know you want to try to know him, but I just want you to be careful around him. He's dangerous."

Ellen had never gotten around to telling her grandmother about the incident in the deli last summer, or the fight with the Krampus at Christmas, or the time she'd helped bust the Old Man out of GCPD. Probably for the best, the way she carried on about him being a 'bad influence'. Didn't stop her from taking his money though. "I will be, Gramma, I promise."

Her grandmother smiled, then her blue eyes caught the kitchen clock. "Time to go, sweetheart. You'll be late for school."

Ellen got up from her chair, grabbing her backpack with one hand and wolfing down the last of her pop tart with the other. "Do you remember everything you have to do this weekend?"

Ellen swallowed before she began to recite the tasks her grandmother had given her. "Take out the garbage tonight, water the plants on Saturday, do dishes on Sunday, no parties, no people here after 9, no being out after 10, call you every night before bed, no nonsense with the Old Man."

Her grandmother gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Good girl. Have a good weekend."

Ellen smiled, then rushed to the door to get to the bus stop. "I will! Bye Gramma! See you on Monday!"

Geometry class wasn't Ellen's least favorite class (that would always be history, thank you very much), but as it was the last class before the end of school and the start of her first weekend alone, she couldn't wait for it to end.

Mr. Holt, or Jabba the Holt as she liked to call him, was droning on at the whiteboard about formulas and graphs, and Ellen had to fight the urge to yawn. Jabba the Holt took no prisoners. She wouldn't be surprised if one day he became a supervillain himself. He was mean and ugly enough to be one.

Ellen turned her head to the desk next to hers and the girl who sat at it. Marisol, her best friend since kindergarten. Normally, they'd hen exchanging notes or doodles, but Marisol kept her gaze down at her notebook. Her face was downcast, her brown eyes sad. Ellen frowned. This wasn't like her.

Ellen opened her notebook and ripped out a small section of paper, just under the doodle of Batgirl she'd been working on. She scribbled down a quick message before she passed it to Marisol. What's wrong?

Marisol looked at the note, then wrote a message back before passing it to Ellen. It's my brother.

Ellen took another piece of paper and scribbled on it. What did he do this time?

Marisol chewed her lip before she wrote back. I'll tell you after class.

Ellen frowned as she read it, but nodded just the same. She wrote back If we survive. Jabba the Holt's trying to bore us to death again.

This time, Marisol smiled a bit, which made Ellen happy. Marisol passed the note back and read the message underneath. Make him the bad guy in your next comic.

Ellen snorted a bit, which unfortunately drew the attention of the teacher in question. "Ms. Dixon?" Jabba the Holt drawled. "Do you find something amusing?"

"No sir," Ellen answered. "Never in this class."

The other kids, Marisol included, laughed as Jabba the Holt's face reddened. "Ms. Dixon, it would behoove you to-" he was cut off by the ringing of the final bell. Ellen barely stifled a cheer as she shoved her notebook into her backpack. "Have your worksheets done by Monday!" Jabba the Holt shouted over the din of students leaving the classroom. He gave Ellen a glare before she and Marisol walked out of the class and down the hall.

"Freedom!" Ellen shouted, pumping her fist in the air. Beside her, Marisol giggled a bit, before her face fell again. Ellen nudged her with her shoulder. "So what's going on? You've been down all day."

Marisol sighed, hugging her textbooks to her chest. "Miguel and my parents have been fighting about his job."

Ellen frowned. "He's a nurse, right?"

"He said he was, but Papa found out a few days ago that he didn't work at Gotham Memorial like he said he did."

"Huh. So where does he work?"

"I don't know. They won't talk to me about it. I hear them argue at night though, in Spanish. Something about how it's too dangerous. Mama and Papa want him to quit, but Miguel says he needs to stay, to look after the patients. They convinced him to take the last few days off of work though." Marisol sighed. "I just wish someone would tell me what's going on. Every time I ask, they just tell me not to worry about it."

"I get it," Ellen said. "Believe me. Adults suck sometimes." Miguel was almost nine years older than Marisol and had always been overprotective of his little sister. It was enough to make Ellen almost glad that she was an only child.

Marisol let out a huff. "Tell me about it!" She shook her head. "I'll be alright, I just needed to get that off my chest. Thanks, Ellen. For listening."

"No problem."

The girls walked out of the front doors of Chesterfield High School and into the warm Spring day. Ellen soaked up the sun with delight. She missed being able to walk outside without a coat. "So," Marisol asked, her usual cheer returned. "Your Grandmother's gone this weekend, right? You wanna do anything?"

Ellen hummed. "I'm meeting up with my Dad tomorrow, but we can hang out on Sunday. Gramma said I could have people over until 9:30."

"Cool!" Marisol fixed Ellen with a curious look. "So, when do I get to meet your Dad?"

Ellen twirled a lock of her red hair. "Uh...it's kind of complicated." Kind of was an understatement. Both the Old Man and her Gramma forbade her from ever telling anyone who he was. Ellen had told Marisol after she'd met the Old Man last summer that he was a private detective, but that was all. It wasn't a lie, but not being able to tell the whole truth to her oldest friend still hurt.

Marisol's brow furrowed a bit. "Is everything OK with you two?"

Ellen shrugged. "Yeah, we're fine. He's just kind of a jerk." That also wasn't a lie.

Marisol cocked her head a bit. "If he's a jerk, why do you still want to see him?"

"He's kind of a jerk, but he's gotten better since we first met. Besides, he's my Dad."

Marisol didn't quite look convinced but shrugged. "Still, you got to introduce us sometime. If we can deal with Jabba the Holt, we can deal with your Dad."

Ellen laughed. "The Old Man's got nothing on Jabba the Holt! God, I'm glad we'll be done with his class next month."

"I know, can you believe it? We're almost halfway done with high school! It feels like yesterday we were Freshmen."

"I know! A few more weeks of school, then summer vacation. Then Junior year, then Senior year-"

"Then off to Gotham U together!" Marisol joined in unison in with Ellen. It had been a dream of their since first grade to go off to Gotham University together and it was actually in sight now.

"Two art majors against the world!" Ellen shouted. Both girls laughed and continued to walk the six blocks from the school to Marisol's family's apartment. The two girls continued to talk about their classes, their other friends, boys and girls and what they wanted to do that weekend. Finally, they reached the end of their walk and Marisol's apartment came in sight. As they approached, they spotted a man leaving the building. A tall, burly white man with a black buzzcut. As the girls walked up to the building, the man approached them. "Hey girls," he said in a way that Ellen thought was smarmy. He then turned to Marisol and gave her an oily smile. "You Miguel's sister?"

"Who wants to know?" Ellen asked.

The man gave her a sour look, then turned back to Marisol. "I'm Miguel's boss. Just came by to ask why he hasn't been at work lately. No one was home. You know where he is?"

Marisol averted her eyes, looking down at her feet. "No..."

The man grimaced a bit, then his face resumed its oily smile. "Well, if you see him, tell him Lyle wants to talk to him, ok sweetheart?"

Ellen stepped in front of Marisol. "Don't call her sweetheart, you fuckin' creep!"

The man's eyes widened a bit at her tone, then his face turned red. "You need to learn some manners, little girl."

Ellen had spent enough time in the Old Man's company not to be intimidated by this creep. "So do you, fatass. Back off!"

"Ellen!" Marisol squeaked, grabbing her arm. "Let's just go!" She dragged Ellen past the man, up the steps into the building.

"You're lucky I don't hit kids, little girl!" The man shouted after them. He stomped the opposite direction toward a parked car on the side of the street.

Once the girls made it inside the building, Ellen wrenched her arm out of Marisol's grip and turned to watch the man drive off. "Jeez, what a creep!" she shouted. "Where the Heck does your brother work, freakin' Arkham!?"

"You shouldn't have cussed at him, Ellen!" Marisol yelled back. "Did you see how big he was? He could have really hurt you!"

Ellen huffed. "It's fine. I'm fine. I've gotten into fights in the cafeteria with cheerleaders who are scarier than him."

Marisol shook her head. "God, Ellen. Sometimes I think you're kind of crazy."

"Just sometimes?" Ellen joked. Then her face grew more serious when she saw just how shaken Marisol was. "Look," she said. "I don't have to go home right away. You want me to stay until your parents get home?"

Marisol nodded quickly. "Yeah. Thanks, Ellen." The girls walked up the two flights of stairs that led to Marisol's apartment in silence. When they were just outside the door, Marisol suddenly turned to Ellen. "You won't tell my parents what just happened, will you?"

Ellen wet her lip. "I won't, but I really think you should."

Marisol ran one of her hands through her curly black hair. "No, they'll blame it on Miguel and they'll just fight more. Please, don't say anything. Promise?"

Ellen sighed. "I promise."

Marisol smiled. "Thanks." She unlocked the front door and the two walked into the cramped, but cozy apartment. They placed their backpacks on the kitchen table and sat down on the sofa. "What do you think?" Marisol asked. "Judge Julie or the Jack Ryder show?"

"Judge Julie," Ellen answered. "Jack Ryder's a prick. He makes me want to throw stuff at the TV when he's on."

"Judge Julie it is!" Marisol turned on the television and the girls sat back to enjoy the antics of people on afternoon TV. Ellen laughed so much at the hapless people dragged in front of the judge that she almost forgot about the exchange outside Marisol's building.