Clerical Error

A.N. this chapter was actually supposed to be part of the last chapter, but I wanted to procrastinate because of a scene I wasn't sure of. I want to preface this by saying that there is a part that is not only painful but possibly triggering. I'll include another warning immediately before and after, in case anyone wants to skip it. It's nothing violent, but it is an analogy to a real source of real emotional pain for real people, so I wanted to be sensitive to that. That being said, enjoy!

Eddie had been right; The Holy Saint Paul Catholic Church was host to one of the best lit alleys (which wasn't saying a lot) in Gotham. It didn't smell like smoke to the extent that the other alleys did, and as far as he could see, no one else had set up for the night. Dick was glad: he'd already been jumped twice in the past two days, and he didn't need to punch someone's lights out, again, nor did he need Batman feeling the need to visit while patrolling and rushing to the scene. He'd already had a close call the night before, and he didn't fancy another.

He trudged closer, blessing himself – he wryly realized – for the first time in a decade, and zipped his hoodie to his neck, pulling the hood up after he sat, his back against the painted white bricks.

He crossed his arms and pulled his knees to his chest, releasing a slow breath in an attempt to calm down.

Footsteps entering the alleyway made him look up to spot a young girl, maybe seventeen, strutting forward and taking a seat beside him, white hair settling just below her jaw.

She took out what looked like a travel pamphlet to read, so Dick took the moment to eye her acid trip of a jacket; just looking at the wavy spots and neon colors made him dizzy. If he wasn't mistaken, he could've sworn he saw the patterns and colors moving, swirling. He shook his head, barely clearing the mental fog.

"What's this place called?" she asked, refusing to look away from the pamphlet. "And why isn't it in the book?"

"Holy Saint Paul Catholic Church," he rattled off. He cleared his throat, surprised at how scratchy it had become with secondhand smoke. "And that book doesn't have the addresses of every house in the city. Just the important ones."

"'Church'?" She cocked her head.

"A place for people to worship?" Dick furrowed his brows "To learn more about God?"

"It's a school?" she repeated, finally glancing at him with eyes the color of cinnamon. He nodded.

"In a way; sure. Kind of a…school for religion."

"Why isn't it important, then?" She flipped a page as she slouched further down the wall. Dick shrugged.

"It's not really unimportant, just…not really a tourist attraction. Y'know?" She shook her head.

"No. On Meta, we have every building on travel cards, especially our place of faith."

"'Cards'?" he said.

"Holographic," she explained. "Do you know of any places I can learn more about Life with Honey?"

"Uhhh…"

"It's an Earth show, most popular one in the universe. I want to learn about one of the people in it."

"You…could try the library; there are some computers there that you could use." When she looked up at him, he tried to elaborate, but, for a brief moment, he felt that he was flying, the world in front of his eyes churning into a sea of colors as buildings bent. He shook his head. The feeling passed. "The-the building is two streets that way." He pointed back the way she'd come. "It's not open right now, but you can camp out behind it until morning."

"Thank you," she said, gracefully getting up from her near-laying position on the ground. The dizzy feeling left once she was out of sight and he had scooted away from the multicolored handprint she'd left behind.

He settled back against the stone walls, absentmindedly attempting to scratch an itch against it as he mulled over Meta.

He pushed the thought away; not his problem. Probably not even a problem.

Above him, the moon was almost full. In a few days, it would be, and he'd have to change. He cringed when he realized he hadn't worked out what he'd do that night.

Maybe he'd break into the Gotham Zoo, tomorrow. Find a way into an empty pen; see if anyone might be put at risk. Even if he had to huddle in a cage half his size, it had to be safer than-

He stood up when a sound like a rocket drew his attention and a white flash raced over the building adjacent and vanished down the alleyway along the back of the church, never touching the ground. He'd taken a few running steps after it when he stopped himself.

'Not my problem,' he thought to himself. 'Not my circus, not my monkeys.'

"Can I help you?" Dick felt his face blanch at the sound of the Priest's voice behind him. Swallowing his fear, he turned to face the man – who was still dressed in clerical clothing, despite the late hour – and did his best to look like he wasn't a threat.

"Uh…yeah, um…" He stammered, feeling goosebumps prickle over his skin.

The man simply smiled and opened the door wider.

"Would you like to stay the night?" he asked, stepping aside. Dick nodded with a closed-lipped smile.

"Thank you, Father," he said, once he was closer. The both blessed themselves as they entered, Dick pulling his hood down and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Are you a Catholic?" the priest asked. "I haven't seen you at mass."

"Kind of," Dick replied. "It's been a while since I've been to mass."

"Would you like to take confession?"

"Sure," he said, feeling an urge to run like hell. "Uh, yeah. Thanks."

They stepped into the confessional, which smelled like wood, and sweat, and tears. He made the sign of the cross, and began.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been-" He took a deep breath, counting since the last time he'd done this. "Ten years since my last confession.

"I was raised with mixed religions. My father was Romani, but my mom was Roman Catholic. Eventually, she converted him, but I still grew up learning about all the different gods, but I only believed in the one God.

"But when they died, and I was adopted by an atheist, I kind of let my faith...sort of...atrophy. And I stopped living by the rules of the church.

"I began lying, stealing, hurting people - bad people, but still people - sometimes in anger. Several, I sent to the ICU, 'cause I was so blind from rage."

"What was your intention in hurting them? Punishment for them, or to fill a void in yourself?" the priest asked.

"It was mostly out a sense of righteousness. I thought, by hurting them, I was helping others; that it was like a self-imposed penance. It wasn't until recently that I stopped, and even then, it wasn't by choice."

"So why did you stop?"

"I hurt some more people, emotionally. This time, people very close to me. I lied to them, and they found out about it at the worst possible time. One of them, my adopted father, was the guy who got me to start, and afterwards, he forced me to stop."

"Does he do this, himself?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's something of an obsession with him."

"Hmm. Go on."

"In addition to everything else, I started pursuing relationships with several women. Intimate relationships, none of which worked out. I guess I kind of knew it was wrong, and that was what caused them to go bad, but I just kept moving on to the next girl. Sometimes before breaking it off with the last girl."

"Adultery is a terrible sin," the priest reminded him. He nodded.

"Recently, I tried to see if I could maintain a relationship without intimacy, and it worked, for a while. But she was one of the people I ended up hurting."

"With your lie," the man concluded. "What lie did you tell, and what was your intention in telling it?"

"It was regarding my health, and I told it half out of fear, and half out of pride. I have a rare condition - so rare that it doesn't even have a name. She and my adopted brother and father saw me have a bad flare up. I never told them I had it, so I guess it kind of scared them."

Dick let out a long sigh. "Anyway, that's about it. All I can think of, anyway."

"Hmm," said the priest. "I believe you should apologize to the people you've hurt, as well as pray for guidance in your relationships, both with women and with the Lord. Mend that which you have broken. This will be your new, less destructive penance."

"Thank you, father," he replied, nodding. They got up at the same time, benches scraping against the floor and making Dick cringe. Truth be told, he was glad to get out of the cramped space and musty air. It felt too close. Too intrusive.

"There's space downstairs; unfortunately, you won't be alone. Someone else is staying the night," the priest lamented.

"It's fine," Dick insisted. "Thank you, again." The priest nodded and led him down a hallway towards the staircase.

(Potential trigger warning)

"Father, what's your opinion on metahumans?" Dick asked.

"Metahumans?"

"Yeah. People with powers. Like Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman..."

"Hmm. Well, it is said that only God may perform miracles, and the feats which 'metahumans' perform certainly would be considered miracles. In addition, their acts cause harm to God's children, and invoke worship as idols. Therefore, they would be barred from heaven, until or unless they repent."

"What if their abilities are innate, though? What if they couldn't control it, or didn't choose it?"

"My dear child, we always have a choice in our behaviors and in our thoughts. Their mere existence doesn't damn them; their use of their abilities and the belief that they have the right to do so does."

Dick bit his tongue. "Thanks."

"Why do you ask?" the priest questioned with a tilt of his head. "Are you one?"

"No," he replied. "Just curious." (End trigger warning) The priest nodded, and they fell silent. The priest waved him into a room, and he set up his sleeping bag.

He crawled in, keeping his back to the man on the other side of the room.

He tried to keep track of time. He figured maybe an hour, maybe two, passed before he sighed and sat up, two things keeping him awake: the man's snoring, and the priest's words.

Was he going to Hell for being a werewolf? Did he still even believe in Hell? Should he have repented for it?

Would he even have been forgiven?

He didn't sleep well, that night.


The sun was still in the sky, but he could tell the moon was about to rise. Hence why Dick was hiding his bag near the brick fence post of "Ma Gunn's Home for the Criminally Infirmed."

He trudged towards the thick woods nearby, shedding his jacket just before the treeline, and everything else once he was further in.

Of all days for the zoo to have a "midnight wolf event," it just had to be the full moon.

A shiver ran up his back as he felt a breeze, making him rub his arms as his eyes darted around to make sure there was no one to see.

A rustle several yards away drew his attention. A wolf stared from behind some trees with its teeth bared.

He was about to snarl back when a slice of pain up his spine made him scream and fall on his side. The animal whined and ran from the sound.

He groaned as the pain bled through his body, sharpening with every inhale. Hot tears fell down his face, and he felt a hot poker stabbed into his stomach.

He emptied his stomach - mostly bile - into the grass. The stench made him do it again. And again.

His head pounded as his smell and hearing sharpened. Behind him, dogs whined and scratched a glass door. In front: howls, long and loud. Call and response. A pack.

His chest burned as he started gaping like a fish. Shaky hands groped his searing neck, trying to find a pulse. He couldn't. All he could do was grit his teeth and cry.

A minute later, air filled his lungs and his mind clouded over. A ring of darkness encircled his world. It closed, and he was gone.

A.N.: To be clear, the Trigger Warning part was an analogy to homophobia. The priest believed, as many homophobes do, that someone with an innate trait that they (the priest) don't like must suppress themselves to be accepted by God.

Next chapter officially introduces the Outlaws! Thank you for your time, and GOD BLESS!