"She is like a cat in the dark, and then, she is the darkness..."
Marie hummed along to the old Fleetwood Mac song as she walked to school on Thursday morning. "Rhiannon" was her favorite song by them, and she especially loved its calming effect on her. She needed it, as this was her first day since that Monday night that she'd ventured out of her home. She didn't know what she would do if Mask or one of his cronies caught sight of her. They'd probably shoot her on sight. She fingered her black hair, still unfamiliar with it's now much shorter length. Her hair once reached her elbow, and now its ends barely brushed her shoulder. She needed to do at least something to alter her appearance, and plastic surgery was out of the picture, for multiple reasons. Her mother almost didn't allow her to go to school, afraid that Marie wouldn't come home this time, but Marie calmed her, telling her she'd be with the Waynes that night, and that she'd be driven home. It calmed her mother a little, at least enough to let the girl go to school. But now, as she was outside, Marie realized she had her own nerves to keep calm. She was supposed to be dead, after all. She needed to lay low for a while, and only go to school and straight home.
"She rings like a bell through the night and wouldn't you love to love her-"
"Hey!" Marie said, startled as someone plucked one of her headphones out of her ear. She turned to see Timothy Wayne placing the bud in his own ear with mild curiosity.
"You're into that hippy music, huh? Cool, never would have guessed." he said, smiling. She grunted and took her headphone back. Looking behind them, she saw a black limo driving away. He must have had the driver stop and let him walk with her. Weird.
"I like all sorts of music, thank you." she said, remembering what he said. "This song just chills me out, is all."
"Why the need to chill out? It's cold enough out here as it is." Tim said. Marie glanced to the ground.
"Just been...a rough few days is all..." she said.
"Yeah, I noticed you weren't at school these last few days. Something bad happen?"
"No!" Marie said too quickly, making his brows rise. She coughed, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I mean, no, nothing bad happened. I just kind of hurt myself the other day."
"Really?" he asked. "What happened?"
"Well, it appears I inherited some of my mother's ditziness and hurt my arm." she pointed to her bandaged arm, the bandage hidden under her uniform jacket. "It's pretty sore, and mom kept me home so I wouldn't strain it..."
"Oh, that sucks..." Tim said, and pointed to her short hair. "And you cut your hair." he said. She nodded.
"Yeah, I got bored with it being so long, so I chopped it." she said, which was an absolute lie. She loved her long hair. It was more painful watching her long locks fall to the floor than it was giving herself stitches.
"Hm. I like it short. Looks really nice." Tim said. Marie wondered why she had the sudden urge to punch him in the face. Instead, she smiled at him.
"Uh, yeah, thanks." she said.
"So...are you still coming over tonight?" he asked.
"Yup, of course." she said. "This Bruce guy...I've read a lot about him in the paper. Is he really as much of a horn-dog as the media lets on?" she asked, and Tim coughed in surprise at the question.
"Ugh, well, I wouldn't believe all that media stuff. Bruce is a really cool guy, honest." he said.
"I'll be the judge of that." she said, smirking. They reached the gate of the academy and walked in. Marie found it odd to not about her usual routine and to instead chat with someone as she walked the grounds. Especially with that someone being the most popular kid in school.
"So, what class do you have?" he asked.
"My homeroom class is English Three Honors." she said.
"Whoa, you really are a nerd." he said.
"Gee, thanks." she said. He grinned at her.
"I'm only joking, no worries." he said.
"It's fine. Just don't ask me to do your homework for you. That'll earn you a kick in the pants."
"Ah, no, Bruce would kill me if he found out I was getting other people to do my work."
"Strict, huh?" Marie asked, and Tim gave a small, knowing smile.
"Yeah, he can be. But...he's really caring, you know?"
"Yeah." Marie said, thinking about her mother. "Some parents will do anything for their kids' wellbeing."
"It's a shame a lot of them don't..." Tim said, his expression distant. Marie nudged him in the arm.
"Hey, your real dad mighta been a piece of crap, but at least you have Bruce now. My dad sucked too, running off a soon as I popped out. But my mom makes up for it. We have somebody, at least, to keep us on the right path." she said.
"Yeah, I suppose." he said. "I'd probably be doing some bad things right now if Bruce hadn't taken me in." he looked at her. "Of course, you'd be smart enough to stay away from all that anyway." he said.
Marie only smiled.
...
"Whoooooa..."
"Yeah, that's what I said." Timothy replied to Marie's expression of awe as they entered the Wayne mansion after school. It was enormous.
"Actually," a voice said from a stairway that lead to the second floor. Bruce Wayne walked down it, smiling. "I believe you freaked out for about thirty minutes, and Alfred had to threaten you in order to make you calm down..." he said. His voice was light, and kind. Marie was expecting something a little deeper, as she regarded his well-built stature. He was ripped, she could tell, and he was exactly as handsome as the papers suggested, with blue eyes and black hair. Timothy frowned at his comment.
"Shut up, no I didn't..." he muttered, crossing his arms. Bruce walked up to them.
"You must be Marie Booker. A pleasure to meet you." he said, holding his right hand to shake hers. She held up her left, and he quirked a brow before using his left hand to shake. "Left handed?" he asked.
"No, just temporarily crippled in my right arm." she said.
"Yeah, she ditzed out and hurt herself." Tim said.
"Really..." Bruce said, and Marie noticed his expression change to analytical. "When did this happen?" he asked.
"Monday, wasn't it?" Tim asked, and she nodded.
"Yup, silly me." she said, suddenly feeling nervous. Why was Bruce suddenly freaking her out?
"Interesting..." he said. "So, you're attending Gotham Academy on a scholarship then?" he asked, changing the subject to Marie's relief.
"Yes," she said, a scholarship that I believe came from the Wayne foundation. Thank you very much." she said.
"I'm happy that my money is being put to good use. You seem like a bright person. You have a good future ahead of you." he said, and Marie felt herself blush at the small compliment.
"Uh, thanks." she said.
"Of course. Now, I have some work to get to. It was a pleasure meeting you, Marie. I'll see you both at dinner." he said, and walked from the room, leaving the two kids alone.
"He's a real charmer." Marie said.
"Yeah, yeah..." Tim said. "Come on, we can study in the living room." he said, and lead her down a short hallway into another room, a large television greeting them. Tim set his things on one of the sofas and removed some papers from his backpack. "Could you help me with this?" he asked, and Marie shot him a glare.
"I told you I wasn't doing your homework-"
"No, no! It's not that, it's this." he said, showing her the papers. It was the Hamlet script. "You sounded really good at the tryouts, and I was wondering if you could give me pointers. I don't even know why they chose me over you." he said.
"Maybe because surrogate daddy donates a butt-load of money te the academy every year?" Marie repeated her mother's words.
"Really?" Tim said, looking down at the script. "Uncool..."
"It's whatever..." Marie lied. "I'll help you out. But don't waste my time..."
"I-I won't I swear." he said. Marie eyed him for a moment, sighed, and took the script.
"Alright, let's begin with memorization..."
...
"I see you two have been working hard..." Alfred said later on as the two teens walked into the dining room. He watched a tired Timothy practically crawl into his seat as Marie took her seat across from him.
"He's just a whiner..." she said.
"I've been reading and remembering all day..." Tim said dryly. "My brain hurts from all those words I shoved in there..."
"See?" Marie said, pointing to him as he rest his head against the table. "Total whiner."
"Shut up..."
"What have you both been up to?" Marie heard Bruce ask as he walked into the dining room.
"Reading..." Timothy growled.
"You could do with some reading." Bruce said, taking a seat at the end of the table.
"I can't even understand half the crap I'm reading." Tim said.
"Then go to No Fear Shakespeare, if you're so confused." Marie said.
"Nooooo, no more reading..."
"Sit up properly, Master Timothy..." Alfred said, bringing in a cart of food. He set a plate first in front of Bruce, then Marie. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the steak and mashed potatoes in front of her. It looked beautiful, and smelled even better than that. Alfred saw her face. "Is the meal not to your liking, Miss Booker?" he asked. She swiveled her head to look at him.
"I've never seen food so wonderful..." she said, and he smiled.
"Why thank you, Miss." he said, taking his own seat when he was done serving them.
"Dig in." Bruce said, and Marie had to give it her all to not scarf the meal down in three bites.
"Oh my gosh this is awesome..." she said after her fourth bite.
"Yeah, Alfred is like a master cook." Tim said, his mouth full. Marie grimaced.
"Swallow your food before you talk!" she scolded.
"It's no use, Miss." Alfred said as he cut his steak. "No matter what you say, he'll still eat like a savage..."
"Heeeey..." Tim pouted, his cheeks full.
"You look like a retarded chipmunk." Marie said. "Stop that."
"Is it Pick on Tim Day or something?" Tim asked after swallowing his food.
"You bring it on yourself." Bruce said with a smirk.
"So, Mister Wayne-" Marie began.
"Please, call me Bruce." he said.
"Right, Bruce. Anyway, what do you do really, for work?" she asked. He leaned back in his chair.
"Well, I manage my company, Wayne Industries. It's a lot of paperwork, which what I had to get back to when you arrived. Mostly I make deals, manage the accounts, and make sure all the numbers add up at the end of the day." he said. "It's a lot of work." he said. Marie nodded, knowing exactly how much work it was. "Why do you ask?"
"I was just wondering. The papers suggest that all you do all day and night is party." she said, and he laughed.
"So I've heard. But no, not really. Making appearances is really just another part of my job. Keeping associates happy by showing up to their parties is all part of my responsibilities as a businessman."
"Interesting." Marie said.
"What about you, Marie?" he asked. "Any jobs you're interested in taking?"
"Well, I was interested in becoming a surgeon." she said.
"In a city like this, we could always use more surgeons." Bruce said, almost sadly.
"Or psychiatrists." Marie added.
"Does psychiatry interest you as well?" he asked. She shook her head.
"Definitely not. I wouldn't be able to handle the crazies here."
"Most people can't." he said.
"That's what Batman is here for, anyway..." Marie said, and Bruce took on an expression of interest.
"And what do you think of the vigilante?" he asked. She gripped her jeans as she thought of that night, seeing him dodge those bullets so easily.
"He's...ghostly. He scares me." she said truthfully.
"Why does he scare you?" Bruce asked, resting his chin on his hand.
"I don't know." Marie said. "It's just, someone like him, with all the danger he's put himself in, it seems like he should have been dead by now. How has he possibly been able to keep himself alive after all this time? It seems impossible, how much he's been able to cheat death. It scares me, thinking about that." she said. Bruce was quiet for a few moments as he seemed to think on her words.
"Maybe he's just lucky." he said.
"Or smart." Marie replied. "Incredibly smart."
"Or maybe he's just crazy." Bruce suggested, and Marie snorted.
"Yeah, that's a good possibility too." she said.
"Enough talk of vigilantes and crazy people." Tim said with a yawn. "It's boring."
"That's funny..." Marie said. "I specifically remember you obsessing over Batman in middle school, yammering on and on about how cool he was. You were a total fan-boy." she said, and grinned at the furious blush he produced at her comment.
"I was not." he said. She shrugged.
"Denial doesn't suit you, Tim." she said, tisking before taking another bite of her steak.
"I'll kill you..." he murmured. She stuck her tongue out at him as a response.
...
Later, Marie was driven home by Alfred, with Tim tagging along. Marie held a plastic wrap-covered plate of the food Alfred had cooked for her mother. She remembered thanking him over and over again as he made the plate. He was so kind as he told her to calm down.
When they reached her home, she stepped out of the car with the plate and she turned to say good-bye to the two, who wished her a good night before they drove off back toward the bustle of the city. Marie felt happy as she walked up the steps to her home, excited to have her mom try the steak.
"She's gonna cry when she eats this stuff." she said when she reached the door, digging in her pocket for her keys. She stopped, however, when she took sight of the door.
The locks had been broken.
"No..." she dropped the plate and it crashed into pieces on the porch as she shoved the door open and ran inside. The house was a shambles. The shelves were torn from the walls, her and her mothers belongings broken on the floor. "Mom!?" she shouted, panick sinking in.
"Marie-" her mother's voice was cut off. It came from the kitchen. Marie ran in, and saw her mother tied to one of the chairs. Her face was stained with tears. There was a dark bruise forming on her left cheek. She was gagged.
"Mom, what-"
"My, but the dead do walk the earth, don't they?" a familiar voice said. Marie felt a sharp pain in her side, and she fell to the ground. Her mother made a muffled cry, and Marie looked up to see her former employer standing over her with a baseball bat. "Hey, kiddo." he said, and hit her again. She coughed, and her mother began to sob.
"Bastard..." Marie choked out.
"There I was last night, actually feeling guilty," Mask said, and hit her again. "So, I call some of my boys to pick your sorry carcass up and bring you back for a proper burial." A blow to the stomach, and the wind was knocked from Marie. "But then I get a weird phone call." he went on. "One of my boys calls and says your body ain't there. All there is is footprints. Now how can a dead person just get up and walk off like that? I'll tell ya, kiddo. They fucking can't!" One more blow, this time to the leg, and he dropped the bat. Marie's mother tried to shout with the gag in her mouth. "Shut, up, bitch." he told her. One of his lackeys walked into the kitchen, looking to Marie.
"Wow, ya did a number on her, boss." he said.
"Shut up and untie the woman." Mask said, and the lackey did as he was instructed. Marie's mother flung herself to her daughter as soon as she was unbound, ripping the gag from her mouth before picking her up in her lap.
"Marie, baby..." she cried. Marie sat up as the air once again filled her lungs.
"Fuck that hurts..." she hissed, her mother supporting her. Mask pulled his nine millimeter from its holster and pointed it at Marie.
"De ja vu, eh kid?" he said. "This time though, you don't have a vest to protect you..."
"Fine..." she said. "Just not my mom. She knows nothing about any of this. Just leave her..."
"Y'know, I've been thinking on that." he said, and kneeled down to become eye level with her. "I have all the money I need to get out of prison, even if you 'fess up all that info in your head. I can pay off lawyers, juries, judges. But you...you don't have shit. If you confessed, you'd be in prison as someone's little bitch for a long, long time..." his eyes narrowed with cruel glee. Marie was confused.
"Then why the fuck are you here?" she said. "If you know I can't do shit to you?"
"'Cuz you made a fool of me, Booker, and you know I don't like to be duped like that. Faking your death. Very unprofessional..."
"What the fuck do you want?"
"Pay-back. That's all." he said. "I want to make you feel just as foolish as you made me feel, with interest. I want to make you miserable. Killing you would be too quick. So I'll let you live." he said.
"Oh, thank god..." Marie's mother sobbed. But Marie's brow only furrowed.
"What?" she murmured. He looked to her relieved mother.
"Sorry, mom." he said.
Before Marie could do anything, he pointed the gun at her mother and fired.