"You think he'll be alright?" Her voice always had a way of dragging my thoughts back. Back to this tiny apartment I called home. Back to the open window and the smell of rain and wet concrete, back to the boxy kitchen…and back to her. She always seemed to know where my thoughts went—okay, that or I was looking toward the front door more than I thought.
From the moment I saw that man leaning against our door, I knew something was wrong. I could just see it in the way he stared at my dad with his narrowed eyes "You kids go inside, dry off. I'll be in a minute." I didn't want to leave him there and despite how my shadow seemed to linger, I managed to reach behind me and find the slender bones of Del's wrist. With the echo of thunder chasing after us I pulled the soggy thing behind me through the door before I stared through the peephole watching my father's shadow grow smaller and smaller as he drifted down the hall with the stranger. This isn't good. What did you do, Dad?
Standing there in the kitchen with my damp cuffed jeans I realized the girl beside me was had gone still in my silence. "I think so…" I said slowly, turning my attention back to the frying pan. Del's fingers stopped kneading the small ball of dough under her hand.
"If he's not back in five, we'll check it out ourselves." Her words were so resolute that it somehow made a breath slither from my lungs. She looked like a wraith standing there in my t-shirt with the damp ends of her jeans rolled up over her bare feet. Somewhere between Metropolis and Gotham, the veil of her medication had started to wear thin and yet somehow she was managing to fight it. I don't know if she was stronger than we thought or just stubborn as hell.
"What?"
You're staring, Idiot. "You just surprise me is all." She always surprised me. "I mean…you're standing here rolling a ball of pasta dough in jeans and t-shirt."
Her nose scrunched. "That's a nice way of saying I look like hell."
"That's not-"
"I know, I know. It's normal." She added, letting a smile grace her pale face before she stared down at the dough that she was thinning out into a giant sheet. "I had a normal life first." For a moment I thought the sound of the rain would swallow her soft words. "I can't remember much of it but…"
"It left its mark." Watching her flex her scarred fingers I suddenly wished I could take the words back, but she just nodded and continued to loosely roll the dough.
"Hey, don't let that bacon burn."
"Excuse me? Look here, Woman, I may not be able to cook very many things, but I'm a master at bacon. You just finish doing what you're doing." No sooner had the words rolled off my tongue did I get a face full of flour. By the time I shoved the pan to a cold burner and grabbed a fist full of flour, she was already jumping back not that she had very far to go, our kitchen is about the size of shoe box.
"Shit." With such a dirty word spilling out of that pert little mouth, I knew I had her cornered. That didn't stop her from swiping her dusty hands down my navy colored shirt, or me from making sure her cheeks were flour caked and cupped in my hands. I like this. I can't tell you what it is that I liked…it wasn't just one thing. I liked the way her laugh felt when it burst from her in little bubbles, it almost felt like a flutter with her body pressed into mine.
I realized then, with her thin fingers curling around my wrists and the sound of her laughter rivaling the patter of the rain, that she wasn't just stubborn or strong—she was a bit of both. She was stubborn as fuck, strong as hell and yet in my hands she felt so fragile. It was maddening.
"Game over." I murmured, feeling my own mouth catch her infectious smile. I don't know what I'm doing. And for that split second, I didn't give a fuck, her fingers were sliding, curling into the shoulders of my shirt, I could feel her nails biting into my skin and somehow I didn't mind it—hell I liked that too.
"Says who?" The touch of her breath on my cheek made my spine shiver and yet all I could manage to do was press my forehead to hers, watching her eyes turn that glossy shade of blue that she wore when she was nervous and suddenly unsure. Kiss her, kiss her now. "By the way, you're not off the hook." She added, pulling away just enough that I could see her face in its entirety.
"Oh?"
"You still owe me a dance, Timothy Drake." I may have seen the flicker of lightning casting across her dark blue eyes, I may have been counting in my head waiting for boom, but when the clap of thunder rolled over the city, I realized the girl who was pressed into my chest-wasn't. Her hard head hit mine as a jerk rolled through her body, forcing a laugh to spill out of my mouth the second a squeak of surprise burst from her.
"Are you kidding me?!" I cried peeling away from her so I could rub the offended spot. Del let her head fall into her empty hands, squashing her manic giggles into her palms.
"No. Shit. Are-are you okay?"
"I'll live. Spiders…and thunder?"
"It just caught me off guard!"
"Uh-huh."
"It did! I swear!"
God, I just wanted to march across that space between us and catch her by the mouth. I wanted to know what those little bubbles of laughter would feel like on my lips. But of course the thought disappeared the second I heard that front door open. I should've kissed her when I had the chance.
"What the hell happened in here?" With a glance at the man in the soggy suit, I could feel my lungs squeezing out any sighs I had left. He was safe. I wanted to ask him about the man who was waiting for him and somehow something completely different slid off my tongue.
"Del happened."
"What?! Nuh-uh."
"You started it."
"Only because you ran your mouth!"
"And you don't?"
"I'm a girl. It's what I do."
"Oh, so it's a part of your charm?" The second she all but snorted, I forgot that I was pulling the bacon from the pan. I could only hang on the edge of the counter and cough up my flour dusted laughter while the girl started to turn pink. "Like that?"
"God help me, I might kill him." Del muttered, letting her pale blue eyes fall anywhere but on me as she scanned the small kitchen. "I need a knife."
"No way! One of us will end up bleeding for sure!"
"Second drawer in the column." I could only imagine what my father was thinking as he spoke up. I only turned and pointed the spatula at him.
"Whose side are you on?!" But the second his dark eyes landed on me I could see his bony finger pointing at my shirt. Del's finger marks were still etched in white across my chest. Awe shit. I only shrugged, watching the corners of his mouth upturn before he eased himself into one of the squeaky dining chairs at the table.
"Hers. Face it, Boy. She's cuter than you are."
Del stopped cutting the dough into strips long enough to spit her tongue out at me. "I win." She teased, craning her neck to see if the water on the stove was boiling. That's when I saw the red mark bleeding through the side of her shirt.
"Del?" Despite the stinging mist of hot water spraying on my arm as she scrapped the pasta into the water I managed to reach out to her side, feeling the muscle quiver under the pads of my fingers.
"Shit."
With her eyes meeting mine I could hear Dad's chair scraping across the floor as he worked himself up. "Show her were the first aid kit is. Hopefully it's nothing major." He said hobbling into the small open kitchen on his cane. "Don't worry. I know how to cook pasta." He added, working a bit of a smirk from Del's pale lips.
"I haven't seen that in a while."
"Seen what?" I murmured as Dad bellied up to the stove, though for some reason the action doesn't seem to fit him. There was a time in his life when he paid people to cook and clean for him. There was a time when this entire apartment would've suited as a bedroom. That grand life seemed so far away now. That's just how quick things change.
"That." He said, poking me in the dimple with his index finger.
"Ah, c'mon Dad. Knock it off."
"I'm serious. I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time." He said, pursing his thin lips as he popped a noodle in his mouth. "She's good for you." He said quietly, letting his words be overtaken by the sound of the water splashing into the sink. "A bit of a trouble maker." He added simpering at me when I leaned back to make sure the bathroom door was still closed. "But that'll change in time—maybe."
I turned my attention back to what I was doing, listening to the clink of plates and cups as Dad and I fell into a working rhythm. Why was the silence bearable? Was it because we were talking about her? "I don't want anything about her to change." I mumbled trying not to think about how mortified I was by my mouth's candidness. I couldn't hear Dad moving about the kitchen anymore so I kept my eyes on the grater in front of me trying not to shrug off his arm when it suddenly slung across my shoulder. "I like her the way she is."
"Trouble and all, huh? We all change over time. That's what the world does to us, Tim. And the funny thing is, you won't even know it happened until it's too late." He said slapping me on the shoulder. "Does she know how you feel yet?"
"Kinda. Maybe? I don't know. I don't even know how I feel—I just know that I like whatever this is."
"Tim, Tim, Tim. " Dad muttered, shaking his head as he set the plates on the table. "Alright, let me ask you this, if it were to stop tomorrow, would it hurt?" I wanted to say no. If Del were to step out of my life tomorrow, it wouldn't mean anything. But that small voice in my head just continued to nag. That's not true. When I failed to banish the silence, Dad's lips twisted into that small rueful smile. "Maybe you need to be more honest with yourself. It's obvious you feel something for her." The words were almost gentle. "I saw that for myself today." He said stopping any argument I had. "I know you, Boy. I know you don't fight that hard to protect something if your heart isn't in it." My heart? "Don't ever let that change."
So many scars…and it's only just begun. I wanted to shrug back into that shirt that smelled of Tim. I wanted to hide these jagged lines, but the girl in the mirror made no reach for the oversized t-shirt. Instead her cheeks filled with air as I readied myself for the bite of the needle. I'd have to ask Alfred to redo this, there's no two ways about it, and if Dad knew… gah.
The pale porcelain sink is pink by the time I'm done, and while my hands are shaking and itching to grab up the shirt, I force myself to finish scrubbing my hands and face letting the remnants of flour swirl down the sink with the bloody water. Only then can I slink into that still warm comfort of a t-shirt, letting my scars…my secrets… slip back into hiding. I don't know what it is about the hearty laughter I hear echoing from beyond the door, but it forces the thin thing in the mirror to smile and hug her arms around herself. You've survived so far, deep breath. It hitches, aches and burns like a fire inside my chest and somehow the air manages to slide out without letting my gasping cries free at the same time. Only when the tacky edges of my lashes feel somewhat dry do I turn for the door.
"You all right?"
"Yep, just needed to change a bandage. I'm good." I manage feeling my lips pop into that forced smile. But even as Mr. Drake beams at me and pulls a chair free from the table, its plain…Tim's not buying. It's not like the guy could hear a girl's swallowed cries or if he could tell her black lashes were damp, right?
"Have a seat, Miss Delilah."
"Del, please, Mr. Drake."
"Jack will do." Tim's father uttered, raising his thick brown eyebrows at me. "Tim, put this gear away, would ya?" He grumbled gesturing to the harnesses that were strung out by the table. I could see Tim's thin shoulders sliding in a shrug before he made quick work of scooping them off the floor.
"Rock climbing, right?" It was enough to make him pause before pulling himself upright. "Like the photo in your room?" I asked, thinking of that smiling faced kid who was hanging off the face of a cliff with a much younger version of the man at the table. Tim's only response was to smirk at me before heading for the closet by the foyer.
"Those were the days. He still does it though, maybe not as much as he used to with lacrosse practice." Lacrosse? Tim's not on the lacrosse team… I knew better than to correct the man.
"I went rappelling once…"
"Rappelling out your bedroom window after watching a YouTube tutorial doesn't count!" Tim yelled out.
"Sure it does! And what about the pole challenge?"
By the time Tim wandered back to the table he was rolling his big green eyes. "For you…that was free climbing." I could see Jack's hand pausing on his glass. "Her harness came off halfway up. She made it to the top without it." Tim explained as his father's dark eyes went wide.
"Someone's a wild card then, isn't she? You should show her how to climb." He said at last, smirking into his water glass. "Safely, I might add."
This…God damn, this was so easy, whatever this was that made me laugh in spite of the pain that crept through my body. If only Tim could just see what I saw sitting at their table. If he could just see how easily that smile spread across his face forcing those dimples to dot the corners of his cheeks. Didn't he know where those dimples came from? Jack Drake all but mirrored them after all.
They made it easy to banter, easy to grin until my mouth ached. There were a couple times I was certain I'd choke there at the table with a fresh coat of tears brimming along my lashes. Even when the gray light dwindled into darkness and the plates and emptied, I realized even in the stark flashes of lightning I could still see that smug satisfaction on Tim's face. When was the last time he'd been able to talk with Jack like this?
"Let's see what's on the tube, shall we?" Tim barely glanced at the small screen sitting on the kitchen counter before he peeled his lanky body from his chair and immediately began stacking the plates on the table. I just made it to my feet when his hands clamped mine down on the empty china.
"I've got it. Sit down."
"Are you trying to boss me around again?"
"Police are telling the citizens of Gotham that if they have an alternate route around Sprang Bridge, they need to use it. Our crews are trying to get as close as they can to the accident. It's been confirmed that a city bus with passengers is indeed teetering on the bridge. First responders are trying to approach the situation as quickly and as safely as they can."
"Jesus, what a mess."
The muscles in my neck are trembling, aching to let my head twist toward my bag and yet, the bite of Tim's fingers forces my gaze to stay on him. Wait. Be Patient. I know what he's saying even if his lips never move. With my hands trapped under his calloused finger tips, I find myself stuck at the table more than aware that our pause is lingering on just a second too long. Only when I force a sigh of defeat from my lips does the boy yank the plates out from under my hands. Feeling the heavy weight of Jack Drake's curious gaze, I find myself making a face a Tim's back for show as I snatched up the empty cups. "You're such a butthead." I groaned, listening to Jack's half sputtering chuckle melt together with the sound of a ringing cellphone.
"Dana, there you are! No, no, I'm sure the traffic is hell." Even as I reach the sink, I can see Tim's back going rigid. Just like me he's waiting…waiting for the opportunity. Feeling his fingers taking the glasses from my hands I can't help but tilt back to peer through the darkness of the open window. I can see the glimmer of towers and apartment windows…but no bat-signal. It doesn't matter. They need help.
"One second, I can't really hear you." I know better than to watch the man leave the room, instead I listen for that dragging shuffle and the sound of a door closing behind him. With my fingers curling in the back of Tim's shirt I yanked him toward the foyer.
"We're going. Now."
"Are you sure you can-"
No. But something else falls from my mouth. "Are you coming with me or not?"
"Who's the bossy one again?" I should've been thinking about so many other things, the weather, the weight of my suit on my chest or the lack of equipment—anything. The only thing I could think about just how pissed off my father was going to be. He didn't kill, but there was a first time for everything. Dad's gonna kill me. Dad's so gonna kill me...
With his chest pressed on the concrete, all he could smell was a wet city. Wet concrete. Wet ash. Wet rusted metal. It didn't matter what Mother Nature poured on Gotham, this city would never be clean. It'd only manage to shove the rubble into the creases of the sidewalks and wash the blood down the drain. Watching the rivulets race down the scope of his gun, Jason forced himself to inhale. Why did people enjoy the smell of rain? Fuck, if it smelled like anything, it smelled like a wet damn dog. Why was that enjoyable? A part of him wanted to lift his head and curse the billowing black clouds above his head, but movement made his focus return back to the scope.
"Aw, hell no." He hissed, not minding the taste of rain water on his lips as he watched the slender black figure slip through the window of the Drake's apartment. "You little idiot." Why wasn't she handcuffed to her bed or something?! "And you're letting her…" He grumbled, forcing his itching finger from the well of the trigger as Dick's little groupie joined her on the lip of the building. "Wouldn't fucking happen if it were me." He muttered, digging his elbow into the small puddle that was building before him to stabilize the rifle. He didn't let his eye sit on the so called 'Red Robin' instead he watched the baby bat lift her long eared head up to the sky as if she were cursing the clouds before making the short leap to the next building. "Still got a bit of spark left, don't you?" He said aloud watching the figure pause to clutch her chest. "…and it's about out." Watching her slap the boy's gloved hand off her shoulder he could have laughed, but settled for a sneer. "She's too stubborn for you." Watching the girl send out her line and yank her weight off the roof, Jason rolled to his side and began working himself up. "Let me show you what a Robin's supposed to do."
He had a half a mind to ship that girl off to Sweden—and yet the other half of his brain was trying to talk him out of it. Where else in this world was she truly safe other than in the darkness of his shadow? She's not Dick. She's not Jason. She's not Damian. She's not you. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe by the grace of whatever was still good in this world she could crawl out from that shadow of his. But as the Drake's apartment door opened, revealing Jack Drake's ashen face Bruce Wayne could only try to lump of dread down his dry throat. "Flew the coop didn't she?"
The door swung open wider. "It's that boy of mine, I guarantee it." Jack grumbled, squashing his phone between his ear and his bony shoulder, as the sound of Tim's voice mail leaked out into the air. "If you don't get your ass home in the next five minutes—"
"Mailbox is currently full."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Bruce said evenly as he stepped into the center of the open apartment, aware of that familiar tone that was humming out of the small TV in the Drake's kitchen. He'd know Gordon's voice anywhere.
"This city needs to learn to pick and choose their battles. If Batgirl and Robin can help our crews, then I say let them. You can't be choosey when you're the one who needs the help. And we need it. We don't have to like it, but we need it." She could be the one who could lead a normal life. She could be the one who enjoyed the sunlight. She had all the power she ever needed to leave his shadow—trouble was she didn't seem to want to.
"I think I know where they might've gone."
"Don't tell me she's just as obsessive about that bat as he is."
"She's worse."
You could die inside this suit. The thought came and went like the flash of lightning over her head, never mind that her hands knew exactly what to do despite her mind's second guessing—set an anchor line. I don't have a choice. Even now, staring at the wreckage that was all but teetering, Del could see nothing but that long eared shape in the patches of the flashing lights behind her. It wasn't the murmur of worried chatter that seemed to pull her forward. It wasn't the solemn nod of the commissioner's silver haired head, or the relentless wind shoving at her back that had her ducking through the gaping hole in the windshield—it was nothing more than a broken cry for help.
"The only thing that's keeping this bus from falling into river is the guardrail." Red Robin murmured as he worked his way ahead of her. "It's not in good shape." He added, his cape spilling around him as he squatted down beside the first person he came to.
"The-the driver-he-he went right though." The gurgling words had Batgirl's stomach falling to her feet, something had to make the hole in the windshield—a body would've been enough. We don't have much time. Feeling the bus shift beneath her, the girl had no choice but to pause and force her lungs to obey. Dad's not here to guide you this time. The moment the groaning of metal left her ears, she could hear nothing more than the soft pleas of desperation. Shut up and focus! He's shown you what to do, now do it!
Paying no mind to the glass under her boots, the girl worked her way over the sideways seats, trying to pay no heed to the moaning wind or the excessive weight of her soaked cape. The suit felt like an anvil on her chest, and yet she could only focus on the huddled masses she spotted in her night vision.
"Can you—can you-" The soft croaking voice brought her to a crouch on the on the edge of a chair, more than aware that the white of the woman's eyes had grown larger at her presence. It's you, you make everything darker.
"I'm getting you out of here."Del uttered, watching the small child in her arms make fists into his mother's blood soaked shirt. "How bad are you hurt?" She asked, watching the woman's mouth open and close before she lifted a hand to the gash on her head. Couldn't she feel the blood? Didn't she know that half her face was covered in it?
They're not too far from the front…but the others… The further into the bus they went, the more tact they were going to have to use. After all, half of it was hanging over the bridge. How much weight would it take to make it tip? How much would it take to doom them all?
"It's—just…just my head…" And while the woman's shaking words reached out to her even over the drumming of the rain, Batgirl found her gaze shifting toward the movement in the shadows. Someone was getting up.
"Don't move!" The yell came ripping out just as the lightning filled the wreckage with that blinding white light. Out of the corner of her eye the girl could see the red bird's cape wiping to the side as he twisted back toward the opening he'd just crawled through with the very first passenger. Del wasn't sure what she heard first, her name tearing from his mouth, the damning sound of metal as it bent to the will of the elements, or the screams of terror as the bus began to tilt. As the woman's dark eyes went white, it hit the girl then. She wouldn't be able to hold them both. Just as the hook of her grappling gun sank into the metal that would soon become the top, Batgirl took a deep breath and ripped the boy from her arms. It's what her mother would've done, right? Del could only squeeze the child to her chest as she felt her body slam into the rows. It did nothing to dull the feel of the boy's fingers as he clawed at her suit. "MAMA!" The unprepared were falling; she could hear their soft bodies colliding into the chairs as they spilled to the bottom—the mother among them. God, how did Dad do this? How did he have the strength? Wait! Mama has to come! Mama has to come too! How did he have the will to peel a child from their mother?
Feeling the bus come to an uneasy stillness, Batgirl could only close her eyes as her body began to sway less and less trying to untangle the squirming child's screams from her memory's own pleas. The wreckage was completely erect. But at least…at least she could see movement below her. Alive, they're still alive. "Batgirl!" Tim.
Peering up through the rain, she could see that black caped figure working himself through the windshield as if he were making his way down a fracture in the earth.
"Still here, Red Bird. Still…here." She breathed, pressing the shaking body into her chest. "I have to get you out first. Then I'll come back for your mommy."
"No! No! You have to! You have to-"
"Keep your steps light." Tim murmured as he slid closer. "The rail's still intact but I don't how long it'll stay that way."
In other words, the countdown had begun and there wasn't much time left. With a nod she let her grappling gun rip her upward, forcing her to bend her head over the child as she felt the edges of the glass trying to hold them back. With the bang of the thunder and the flapping of her cape, she landed as softly as she could manage on the grill of the bus. It's not on the bridge at all.
Twisting her head up, she could see the officers peering down upon her from the bridge. "Hurry up! Get someone down there!" Even through the storms grumbling and spitting, she could still hear Gordon's voice booming over the bay. The fire rescue is climbing down the bridge….but we don't have time to wait for them. God damn, of all the times not to have my harness. Retracting a hook from the metal, the girl aimed for the bridge, ignoring the weight that pressed down on her as the momentum yanked her toward the gaggle of officers.
"How many are-"
"Can't talk. Not enough time." The words raced from her mouth as she all but shoved the boy into the man's arms, missing his flustered face completely as she turned back for the remains of the vehicle. You could walk away right now and live. Or you can go back inside and possibly drown with those you're trying to save. But before the thought could worm its way through her, Del realized that the there was nothing but air beneath her.
We can't do this ourselves. There just isn't enough time. The girl forced herself to swallow down the rising bile as her boots made contact with the metal. We may not be able to save them all. With her teeth sinking into her lip, she reached for the bloodied hands that were wrapping around the jagged glass before her. The mother. "Almost there." She cried letting her gloved fingers wrap around the woman's wrists as she all but fell into a heap at Batgirl's feet. "How many are left?" The question fell from her mouth the second Tim worked himself from their make shift entrance. No sooner had he slid an arm around the woman's waist, did Del start working her way around him.
"Six."
Even in this light she could see that his face had grown gray and ashen. He knows, he knows just as well as I do. There's too many. And yet, the girl found herself sliding into the darkness once more. They had to try. They had to try to save as many as they could. She didn't have her father in her ear; she didn't have Dick to guide her. I don't know they'd proceed. But I know what I'm going to do—what Batgirl's going to do.
What the fuck am I doing? The GCPD is out here in droves. And yet, in the green haze of his scope he could see that stubborn little bat crawling back inside the ruins. The bus had slid once already, forcing the guardrail to bow like a sling. The thin sheet of metal was all that was holding the wreckage to against the bridge. It'd been enough to force him out of his position. Stop her, stop her before she kills herself. Oh, he could only imagine what Talia would say to this. How counterproductive she'd find it. You care for the twit!
Maybe. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wanted more than to piss in Bruce's Wheaties. Maybe he wanted more than to untangle himself from the guilt. Maybe the next time he tasted her, she'd know just who she was kissing. But more than anything, he just wanted to keep her alive. There had to be one toy solider that made it through unbroken. Only trouble with this one was—she was breaking herself.
He didn't have time to think about all the service pieces pointed at his back as he landed in a crouch on the front of the bus. He didn't think about the metal shaking under his feet or the flicker of lights casting across the river. He could only see her surprise. Even in this light he could tell that her pale blue eyes had gone wide. She hadn't expected him to be there to reach for the elderly gentleman who was all but crawling through the gap.
"Jas…"
Pressing his finger to his lips, he could only wonder if her teeth had found that lip.
"He's not gonna…"
"No Sir, he's not gonna hurt you in any way." She said quickly, resting her gloved fingers on the gentleman's bony shoulder. "Commissioner Gordon won't let that happen. Right, Jim?" Jason didn't know what had the old cop more flustered. The fact that the Red Hood was standing there in the open, or the fact that Batgirl had just called him Jim. He seemed to pause there with his gun trapped in his hands. Agonizing over it aren't you, Old Man? Do you shoot me or don't you? James Gordon was still a damn good shot, gray hair or not. Wet glasses or not. The man could definitely hit his mark.
"What's he doing here?!" Oh, that's right, Batgirl wasn't alone.
"Your job, Bird Boy."
"Commissioner, you make his body fall on this bus, you could condemn these people to death. I'd appreciate it if you waited until the bus is empty." Del shot out, shoving the pair apart.
"You make one wrong move Hood, and we'll be fishing your body out of the river."
"Yeah, yeah." Jason grumbled, as he began hoisting the old man up by the waist, more than aware of Red Robin's glare at his back. "Kid you keep making that face, I'm gonna have to punch you."
"Last time we traded blows, you ran."
"I wasn't-" I wasn't running from you. I was running toward her. "You don't want round two, Bird Brain. You wouldn't last."
"We'll just have to see about that won't we?"
Stubborn Fucker. "I guess we will." Without another word, he took to the air. The cops wanted to fill him full of holes and the bird was itching to get his ass beat. At least the night was promising to be anything but boring.
"You never should've let her do this."
"Oh and I guess you could've stopped her?" Tim spat out, paying no attention to the rain that beat down on him, or the man who was working his way down the seats beside him. His eyes were below him, watching the lightning cast shadows of a slender bat along the edges of shattered glass and bent steel.
"All it takes is a little force." Hearing him, Tim couldn't stop the indignant scoff from leaving his lips. He wanted to glance at him, but kept his eyes on the girl below, watching her work a woman's arm around her neck as she coaxed the battered thing away from the seats she was pinched between.
"If you think you can force her to do anything, then you don't know her." No sooner did the hissing words fall from his lips did he feel the Red Hood's fingers gripping into his chest. If hitting the columns of chairs was supposed to be painful, he didn't feel it.
"She's doing this to make Daddy look her way. And she'll sacrifice everything to do it, even herself. And if you asked her why, she'd tell you because it's the right thing to do." Maybe in some ways the masked man was right, but Tim's fingers didn't stop reaching for his staff. "You know what's different about us? One of us actually believes that lie. I'm not about to let her break herself for him."
"Interesting. You won't let her break." Tim croaked, watching the rain roll off Jason's mask as he tilted his head back with the point of his staff. "But you'll let someone else almost kill her. The only one who's broken…is you. She's stronger than that." Giving him a jab, Tim let the staff slide back through his hand and back into his belt. "Stop acting like you're the only one who cares about her." He added paying no attention to the dark slits Jason's eyes had become. "There's work to do. If you were a decent Robin, you'd know that."
Before Jason could rebut or put a fist into the smartass' face, he slid down his line, looking like quite the little hero when he scooped the young woman away from Batgirl. Little Prick. No wonder Dickhead likes him. He couldn't see Del's face, but her small pauses on the line, the deep rise and fall of her chest, those things told him all he needed to know. She can't take much more of this. And yet he had no choice but to endure, just as she did, dragging up one heavy body at a time as the metal tin can shook in the wind. No wonder they couldn't get the helicopter's close enough, one good gust and this shit was going down. He just didn't want to be in it when it did.
"You got number six?" He called, peering down at Batgirl and the redheaded teen that that was clinging to her. Hell, the girl had to be Del's age. Just what was a sixteen year old be doing on a bus route that ran this late?
"Y-yeah!" Fuck. Thank God. But that lead to a problem. If that was the last of the passengers, the GCPD would be waiting for him. Well, fuck me. This'll be fun. Just as soaked as the bloodied as the thin man at his side, Jason found himself stepping foot on the bridge anyway. Smart? Maybe not. It's done. She'll stop. She'll go the hell home. No sooner was the bald bony thing whisked into the arms of the EMTs, did he feel that slap of metal hitting his wrist. Hmm, what's your way out of this one?
"You come quietly Hood-"
"Leave my mask and I'll play nice." Glancing over his shoulder he could see the water trailing down the commissioner's glasses. The man's mustache only seemed to move when he sneered.
"Didn't expect you to show up for something like this." He muttered, as he reached for Jason's other wrist, but the Red Hood didn't seem all that interested in his words. It had him staring at the small bat just the same as the lightning split the darkness.
"You want to know something interesting?" He asked, watching the baby bat turn her head toward him. "Neither did I." The second another officer stepped up to escort him to the GCPD van, he couldn't help but think of all the ways he could break the kid's nose. Hell, he could strangle him with the links of the cuffs if he felt up to it. But then with this many uniforms crawling around, it'd definitely take the fun out of it.
"Did you get my sister out?!" The redheaded teenager. "Small, blonde, blue plaid shirt?!" The frantic plea was enough to still Jason's boots, hell it was enough to make the rookie who was prodding along stop and stare. I didn't see a blonde. And by the mini caped crusader's posture…neither did she. Don't be stupid, don't be stupid. You're done. You can't. Maybe the problem with unspoken words is no one hears them. The second he saw that shadow dart across the bridge, Jason felt the wind rush out of his lungs.
"Fuck." The word came out bitten as he twisted on his heel toward the man at his back. "I'm only going to tell you this once, take these off. Now." But when the rookie only stared at him dumfounded, Jason couldn't help but sigh. "Fine. Hard way it is." It only took one swift knock of his head to put the kid into the concrete before he could tumble back to work his cuffed hands from behind him. He had the silver keys from the kid's utility belt before they even noticed what he was up to. By then it was way too late.
I have to. No other choices seemed like the right ones. It didn't matter that she was clinging to the edge of exhaustion or that her oxygen tank had ran low long ago. Hell the very suit that kept her dry was all but slowly crushing her. And yet here she was, setting her hooks into the bridge once more, ignoring the Red Robin's calls or the Red Hood's commotion completely as she dove off the bridge, planting her feet into what was left of the windshield.
There was a brief moment as she was sure she'd just continue to fall, that was until she reached the end of her line, letting her own weight sling her into the sides of the aisles, knocking the very wind from her lungs. Every ache, every burn- all a reminder of the choice she'd made. "Where are you?! Tell me where you are!"
As the wind and rain shoved and beat at what was left of the wreckage, the girl had to strain to hear the soft whimpering over the groaning of metal and scraping glass. "I'm here! I'm here!" Such a small plea. But then the girl was equally small herself. She was nothing more than little girl stuffed beneath the very last seat. She had to be what? Seven? Maybe eight? "I'm stuck." The words were nothing more than a simple sob, and yet the child looked as though she'd lost the will to cry.
As Batgirl's cape spilled out around her, the child only seemed to shrink into a smaller ball, too terrified to try and run, even more scared of the idea of moving at all, as if she knew just how unbalanced her world had become. "I'm gonna get you out, but I need you to be nice and still. Can you do that for me?"
"Y-yes."
My acid's about empty. Even Del knew the thought was an empty one, a ruse to keep her mind off the shaking she felt around her. Time was almost up. "Don't touch it." The girl warned, watching the dark irises of the child's eyes grow larger as the acid began to eat at the metal legs of the chair, leaving holes for the wind to rush through in its wake. Working carefully to her feet, the child could only watch as Batgirl worked the chair away from its bolts, leaving her enough space to crawl out of. Only when she reached into her belt for a grappling gun did the bat speak again.
"I'm going to grab you on three. One. Two. Three." Grabbing the child, Del felt her muscles beginning to protest as they were ripped up the line. The child didn't so much a make a sound, instead she clung, pressing herself so tight into the girl's chest that she was certain her lungs would never work again. Around them the metal groaned and scraped, and suddenly it was moving, pulling away from them as they were pulling themselves free from it. "Keep your head down!" We're gonna make it. We'll be fine. She could hear the wind whistling through the gap just above her head. It didn't matter that the heap of metal would be swallowed by the river, or that there was glass and rain falling at her back, they were almost free. That was until the line snapped under the weight of the shifting bus.
There wasn't time to panic, fuck, there wasn't time to think. The suction of the wreckage would surely drown them both. But as the weight of her body jerked, Del found a new pressure around her arm. Gloves. Black gloves. Suddenly the bus was falling below them, and her body was crashing into the bones of the bridge, forcing a gasp to hiss from her as she tried to keep the girl pressed into her chest with her free arm. Glancing up, Del could only find the shape of points that were much smaller than her own. Dick? No. Those eyes were much too narrow. Dad.
Feeling fingers peel at the opening of her cape, the girl realized that her father wasn't alone. "It's…okay." She murmured to the girl, surprised by the hoarseness of her own voice. "Red Robin isn't gonna let you fall-I promise." Only when the child's trembling arms encircled around Tim's neck completely did her father reach for her free hand, it was as if he knew everything in her body had turned to nothing more than dead weight inside her suit. I can't breathe. She realized as she all but spilled into a heap at her father's feet, aware that his own hands were keeping her from ripping her cowl away.
"Take the first layer off! She can't breathe damn it!" With her head resting on the puddled concrete, Del could see nothing but the tips of Jason's boots as he darted in, digging his own blade into her suit, slashing at the tendons of the armor and vessels of circuits faster than her own father's knife. The second the armor plating peeled away, Del forced her chest to fill, sure her own gasping was louder than the rumbling of the clouds over their heads. The coughs at the back of her throat came dry and vaguely tasted of blood. And yet, as she forced herself to roll to her hands and knees she caught the sight of her father's hand fisting into Jason's Jacket.
"Go. Now. Go!" Jase seemed to hesitate, as if his own limbs weren't sure if they should move at all. But with a glance toward the uniforms the young man twisted around and shot for the dark more than aware of the pounding of boots that was following after him.
"There's no way they could catch him like that." Tim murmured as he slid the girl's arm around his shoulders, paying no mind to the flash of bewilderment on her face. I can't even…I can't even… "I've got'cha." God, he's reading my mind again.
Hell, she could've kissed him for it…if her mouth didn't taste like blood and her father wasn't standing two feet away. He just looked so damn angry, staring at her with those narrowed eyes and that grim set mouth.
"In trouble. I know." She croaked, watching him as he swept up the remnants of her suit. And yet she still managed to look beyond him, where the two sisters seemed to melt together in the sheen of the light bars. Everyone's safe. It was enough to get her father to twist his head.
"We can't stay here." He uttered, turning his attention back to her. "If I have to carry-"
"No!" she spat. "A certain demon child would never let me live that down."
"Clara, no!" No sooner had the words echoed through the darkness, did Batgirl feel the slightest of tugs on her cape. It was enough make her pause, pulling her own father to a standstill. There on the edges of the flashing lights was that blonde headed thing, tattered and wringing her slender fingers together. "I just…I just wanted to um…" As Del forced herself to her knee she was sure she'd melt into the ground. The simple gesture was enough to send the child forward, before Del could even take her next breath the thing had her arms around her. Beyond her, the redhead paced, biting on her lip as the lightning cracked above their heads. "Thank you." Rain. Blood. Dirt. Del embraced it all, until the child began to slip away from her.
"Welcome." But as the girl's thin little arms slid from her gloves, something caught her attention. It was enough to keep the child's fingers in her own, despite how she tugged. Something was just beneath her sleeve. "Can I see what's on your arm?" The little wraith went absolutely still. It was enough to send her sister charging forward—until Batman held up his hand, rooting her right there on the bridge. "Please?" Even in these shadows she could see the child's face twisting as if she were struggling with the idea, but then her head only nodded, working her small hand from Batgirl's gloved fingers.
Don't let me be right. Don't let me be right. But as the child rolled up her sleeve under the flash of the stormy light, Del felt her stomach drop to her feet. Nine circles. "Who did this to you?" The question had barely left her lips when the child's sister ran up and snatched her by the hand.
"You didn't see us." She breathed, yanking her sister to her side as Tim's hand reached out. "You don't understand. It's safer that way."
"Wait! We could help you." But even as the boy's voice chased after them, neither one glanced back.
"Let them go."
"But-"
"Let them go." Batman said again, his heavy cape pooling around him as he kneeled beside the melted batgirl, forcing his arms beneath her as he lifted her from the ground tattered suit and all.
"I thought…I said-"
"Your point's only valid if the boy finds out."
Almost. I almost lost you. Was she trying to go for the record? Tim's on his way home, and she's right next to you. It's fine. But as the bat took a sidelong glance to the passenger seat, he could feel his tight chest caving in. The lights of the city only shed across the small crumbled heap in flickers. Batgirl was anything but fine. Sitting this close to her he could hear the air wheezing out of her lungs. Smaller lungs only meant more work for her heart. "Nothing I say to you is going to make through that thick skull of yours, is it?"
"Depends…" She croaked, lifting her head from her hands. "…on what you say." She muttered pushing her damp hair from her face as she tilted her head to the window. So we're back to that are we? But just as he felt the command coming to his lips, she turned her head, letting those familiar blue eyes stay on him. "I know you're mad at me…" She said, stopping to let a cough squeak out of her lungs. "But what I don't understand…is why."
"Why?! What do you mean you don't know why?! What did I tell this morning? What did I tell you I wanted you to do?" When his daughter's shoulders only slumped and her pale lipped mouth shrank, the man couldn't help but let his ragged sigh fill the space between them. "I told you to take it easy. I told you I wanted you to recover. Isn't that what I said?!" The girl beside him only let her eyes lashes hide her eyes as she sat there and a shivered, digging her hands into her knees as if the pain of her own nails would stop her quivering muscles. "Is that what I wanted you to do? Answer me."
"Yes."
"I have half a mind to send you to boarding school."
"They needed help! They could've died!"
"And so could you!"
"Damn it Dad! You're such a hypocrite!" She cried, her voice rising in pitch.
"I'm a hypocrite who's been at this longer than you've been alive." He said evenly, watching her eyes widen when she realized the car had stopped. "And if I honestly thought shipping you off would keep you from acting so stupid," he stated as he grabbed the girl by the chin. "I'd do it. But it wouldn't stop you. I know that." He said letting her face drop as the hatch hissed open. "I'm not mad at you for saving someone else's life." He snapped, reaching over and ripping the belts off of her when she struggled to untangle herself. But before the girl could even begin to make the climb out of the car he had her by the shoulders. Even now she felt so small in his hands. "You went to Arkham. What the hell do you think you were doing?! That's no place-"
"St. James wouldn't tell Batgirl the same things he'd tell Delilah Wayne." She uttered, mashing her teeth down on inside of her lip when the quivering rolled up her spine. The adrenaline was all but spent. "He sells product to Nine Circles. Said so himself. He was only paid off to kill Mom…" She said more than aware that her father was easing back from her as her words leaked out. "But when he saw me, he thought he could make a little extra. Someone paid for me in advance. If I'd known you were a Wayne, I could've made a killing…"
Del didn't recognize the hoarse laugh that was clawing its way out of her throat. Hell, she didn't even feel her heavy head sinking into her father's gloved fingers either. "I could've been no different than those girls on the bridge…we have to find them…we have to."
"And we will, I've already forwarded the information to Dick and Damian. I'll look for them myself, but first-"
"You're going back out there? Your head isn't healed all the way…"
"Who are you to chastise me?" He said, forcing the girl's arm around his shoulder as he peeled her from the car.
"You're not done yelling at me…are you?"
"No."
Great. He's waiting until you feel a little better before he really lays into you. She thought, trying to bite back her hisses as she let her eyes adjust to the long dim space hidden within the walls of the penthouse.
"You're not to leave." He said suddenly, fishing her own phone out of her belt. Before she could open her mouth he he'd taken the device apart and was pulling out the SIM card and replacing it with another. "I've limited your contacts. You're computer has already been modified. As soon as Alfred's done with you, I want you in bed. Is that clear?"
"Yes."
"I have your medication already prepared, Miss."
"Alfred, don't give her all of it." Her father said, making the old man's face fill with alarm. But her father's eyes were on her. "Feel like hell, don't you?" When the girl finally nodded she could see his lip twitching. "Good. I want you to remember what this feels like."
"Aiden! C'mon, stop! Why couldn't we ask them for help?!"
What else could she do but turn on the little thing she was pulling along. Even in the darkness of the alley her little blue eyes had gone large. "You know what would happen if we did! Do you want to be split up? Is that what you want?!"
"But-but they're going to send me into the pits! I-I-"
The older girl twisted around, dragging the wet thin into her arms as she kneeled there in the dimpled concrete. "I won't let that happen. I haven't let that happen yet, have I?" The smallest sister shook her head. "Besides, you know what would happen if they knew what I did."
"I'm dying to know…just what exactly did you do?" Jason called forcing the girl's to lift their heads as he pulled himself from his crouch. The second he spotted the pair running from the scene, he could help but to see where they'd lead him. He expected them to sneak back home, not dart through the heart of Gotham like they were running for their lives.
"That's none of your business." The redhead called back, shoving her sister behind her as the man leapt down from the building before them.
"Are you always this polite after someone saves your life?"
"Just go away. Batman let us go, you should too."
"I'm not Batman." He snapped, attempting to shrug of his jacket. God, why'd they have to look so damn pathetic? Or maybe the smaller one looked a little too similar to another blonde haired child.
"You don't understand! If we're not back in time-if they know that we ran-"
"Leave them be, Hood." Watching the older girl pull her sister along the wall as that familiar voice rang out over the storm, the Red Hood shrugged back into his coat. Damn that annoying little bird.
"You still looking to get your ass beat?" he asked, with a tilt of his head. He didn't expect the kid to make the first move. Or that he'd clip the only part of him that wasn't covered by Kevlar. The small gap between his mask as his suit. "I'll take that as a yes."
I know this…I know this place. This place covered in snow. Why is it scaring you? It's the gardens. But it certainly didn't look the same. But as she opened the door, letting the howling wind pull her forward, Del could feel nothing but her own trembling as she slipped into the outside world of white. That jacket…it's… "Jason?" She froze there as he turned about, cupping his hands over something she couldn't see.
"Careful." He murmured, tilting his head toward her bare feet. There lying just a few inches away was a Robin in the snow. Dead. Lifting her eyes, she couldn't stop the gasp from squeezing out of her lungs, the frozen ground was all but littered with the red breasted birds. She thought to shrink away, to run back for the safety of the house, and yet she could hear that leather coat scuffing as he held out his hand. "You're going to be fine." The second his cool fingers wrapped around hers he yanked her forward, crushing her cheek into the teeth of the zipper on his coat. "He got my chance. He got everything that should've been mine."
"What are you-"
"Even you…" Feeling his icy hands on her cheek she forced herself to lift her head, more than aware how heavy the very motion felt. The harder her muscles shook the harder he squeezed her to his chest. From here she could see the blood drying at the side of his mouth. His eye was almost purple.
"What happened to you?" But his slender lips only seemed to tug into a rueful smile as he bent his head to hers.
"Don't worry about me." He murmured, making the space between them grow warm with his breath. "I won't let you break. I promise." The second his lips touched hers, she could feel nothing but the weight of his chest against her palms. This kiss- this firm kiss that tasted vaguely like blood… Even as she felt her lips trembling to move, his lips were still there, stealing her exhales.
"I- can't. I can't…" She uttered, feeling her own hands shoving at him as he released her own lip from his. "…breathe." She gasped as last, the very word forcing him to give her some space.
"I'll put your mask back on." He muttered before pressing his lips to her forehead, god they felt like fire on her skin. Only then did she notice his fisted hand. "Go back to sleep." She could feel the words humming from his chest as she pried his fingers open, revealing the Robin patch hidden in his palm.
"Jase…"
"Go back to sleep, Pipsqueak. When you feel up to it…look for where the trains began. One of your birds will be waiting for you."
So many dead robins. Opening her eyes darkness, it took the girl a moment to realize where she was as she tried to make sense of the shapes beyond her nebulizer mask. And yet each time she blinked her eyes she could still see that snow ridden field covered with the small frozen bodies. It was enough to make her lungs shudder for air. The girl had no choice but to rip off her mask just as the light from the hall cut through the darkness.
"Miss Wayne?" Before she could utter a sound the man had a hand on her back and a trash bin by her head just as everything started to come up. "Easy now, Poppet. I suspect that's the medication making you ill." He murmured as he rose from the edge of her bed. "And this window," he added crossing the space. "It's a bit too chilly and wet to have it open."
With her nebulizer mask still in her fingers, Del let herself fold back down on the mattress, watching the old man's slender shadow. I don't remember opening…But before she could open her mouth to say so, Alfred was at her side again, rescuing the mask from her fingers. "Not quite done with this, I'm afraid." He said gently as he propped it back in place. But as the girl stared at him through the soft sheen of plastic she could only see something else blocking her vision, the smudgy prints of a pair of lips. I was dreaming… "I'll come take it off of you when the dosage is up." Alfred murmured, winning a soft nod from the girl as he pushed her stray hair behind her ear. "Do try to get some sleep." Sleep. Watching the man slip through the door the girl let herself stretch out, more than willing to try the idea on for size…until her fingers felt something coarse. Rolling to her back, Del pulled the object out from under her pillow, unsure of what her fingers had found until a flicker of lightning revealed the heavily embroidered R.
"He got my chance. He got everything that should've been mine." Ripping the mask away, Del kicked at the blankets, feeling a curse bubble to her lips when she all but spilled to the floor. Tim! This is Tim's patch! Why would…unless you were only half dreaming…Get up. Get up now! You have to find Tim!
Willing her legs to stand, Delilah staggered her way to the door, so sure that Alfred would hear the latch loosen the second she opened it. But as she peered down the dark hall for the light of the open kitchen she saw nothing. Under the murmur of the television the girl tip toed her way through the hall, until she came to the spot in the wall she knew would give under her weight. So far…no Alfred. Sliding into the make shift base, the girl let the wall slide back in place without a sound. It was empty. Your suit's in tatters. "O!"
"Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"Where is Tim?! Have you heard from him?"
"Not lately…he's supposed to be home."
"Check! NOW!" She hissed at the computer before she ran for the cases that lined the wall. I'll just have to use the original. But as the girl's fingers flew over the key pad, the keypad only flashed at her. Permission Denied.
"What the hell is he doing there?!"
The words were enough to make the girl's head shoot up. "Where?! By the old train station?!"
"How'd you know-"
I have to get to him. I have to. Spying one of Nightwing's staffs Del snatched it from the wall, not warning Barb about the noise as the rod smashed through the case. "What are you doing?!"
"Barrowing your old suit."
"I've unlocked your bike. You've got a three minute window before I let your father know you're out there."
"Thanks, O."
"Hey, I know what it's like to have one of those knuckleheads as a partner."
"Dad knows." Del hissed biting back her curses as the engine of her bike kicked off forcing her to leap from it. The staggering bat didn't flinch as the bike scraped into the pavement behind her, casting her shadow along the alley walls with the dying headlight. It was in that glimmer of light she could see a glimpse of red before her. Tim. "Robin!" She wasn't sure if he could hear her over the grumbling clouds that loomed above their heads. Hell, she couldn't even remember closing the space between them; she didn't feel the concrete biting into her knees as she all but slid to the ground beside the Robin's broken body. "I'm here…I'm…here." She chanted, thankful to feel his chest shuddering under her arms when she cupped that bloodied face in her hands.
Watching his lips open the girl could only press in closer, trying to pay no attention to the feel of his fingers gripping around her arm. "They're…not…gone." They? But as the girl heard the sound of boots scuffing on the concrete, she had no choice but to lift her head. Only then could she see all the shadows the lightning had shed around her. The girl was already pulling her feet beneath her when she heard that voice reach out to her. "Guess what boys, the bird's still breathing." I don't have any equipment…but… Breaking from Tim's hand, she worked her fingers around the staff in his belt. "We'll have to fix that, but first let's get rid of the little bat."
It was only by force that Del managed to leap up to her feet, knocking the man's head back as she spun around with that staff in her hand. "No one touches my birds!" She cried, forcing her lungs to obey when the rushed in.
How…how is she doing this? Where's her second wind coming from? Hearing the blood gurgle in the back of his own throat, the boy had no choice but to watch the exhausted wraith fend them off one at a time, letting the bodies pile around her as she all but struggled to catch her breath. One moment he and Jason settling an old score—beating the shit out of each other in the process, and the next he knew…they were…surrounded. There's too many for her. She's too tired. But before a warning could spring from his lips to warn her about the shadows behind her, a cane came down with a crack, sending the body slumping to the ground behind her. It can't be…
When Jack Drake all but dropped to his knees in the puddle at his side, Tim was sure he stopped breathing completely. Behind him he could see Batgirl collapsing to the ground stretching her arm out to the man. "Wait! Please!" But it was too late, Tim could feel his father's trembling fingers peeling his mask away. The rain felt like needles falling on his raw face.
"Oh, my boy, my stupid, stupid boy." There was a time he'd thought he father was incapable of lifting him, and yet the man was all but peeling up his body and crushing him to his chest.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Dad." The words seemed to break free from him all on their own as he forced his arm around the man's wet shoulders. "I …couldn't tell you." He uttered, feeling his own breath well into his father's neck before the man slowly let him go. It was only when he had the space could he see that dark glove on his father's shoulder.
"So it's you." Jack Drake said evenly as he lifted his gaze to the Bat at his side. Tim could only hold his breath as the man worked himself back up to his feet by the grip of his cane. "Who the hell are you people?!"
"The only people who'll stand up for this godforsaken place." Watching the girl shrug away from Dick's hold to step toward his father, Tim had to suck in a breath as he struggled to work to his feet. Stop her,stop her! But it was too late, the mask was gone. "Your son's one of them, and so am I."
A/N: I'm sure the boys will let us know what they really think in the next few chapters. So we'll be getting the scoop on what happened from both of them a little at a time. They're both a bit prideful.
I know some of you are torn! It's supposed to be that way I'm afraid. They all need different things from one another. Right now I'm kicking myself for what I'm about to do in the next chapter. I hate to do it, but it's gotta happen. I'm sure you'll understand. Things are about to start snowballing, so hold tight. Next chapter: Fallen
I've been going back and re-reading some of these chapters. I'm actually getting excited about the rewrites. Nothing major, just a lot of polishing. :D
