Nightweaver paced back and forth in his suite; he felt the need to use the money he had earned off of the stock market, as opposed to letting it sit in a bank. The hotel he was staying in wasn't as close to the heart of Gotham as his last hotel. This one sat closer out to the water, giving a fantastic view that he wasn't at all interested in. He'd closed the blinds, letting the sun filter through them, but leaving the suite in relative darkness. He leaned down, opened the mini fridge, saw nothing, closed it, and began pacing again.
Something Catwoman said must have triggered something. I feel all kinds of out of whack. He tried to sit down and relax, but quickly grew restless and stood back up and resumed pacing. The mental pressure began to build and build until he felt he was about to explode; just as he reached his breaking point, he saw a black swirl of energy erupt in the center of his room, and Raven stepped out of it.
"Thank god you're here. Fix me."
"What?"
"Fix me. I am broken. Fix me."
"How exactly are you broken?"
"I don't know!"
"Look, I'm not just an instant psychiatrist. I could help you if you were actually insane, but I think you're just under a lot of stress."
"What do you suggest, then? I go and see some professional moron with a degree?"
"That's precisely what I'm suggesting." She grabbed him and, before he could object, the two vanished into another portal. He came out on the other side in front of an office building.
"I hate shrinks."
"Too bad. Go in there and talk to him. You've got the money for walk-ins, and then there's no name you're listed under." He turned to argue back, but she was already gone, leaving him standing alone with a choice to make.
Bitch! He hesitated, but pushed the doors open and walked in. He threw two hundred dollar bills at the secretary and walked straight past her, barging into the shrink's office. Luckily for both of them, she was without a patient at the time.
"Who are you? You can't just walk right in here!" she yelled, standing up against the intrusion. Weaver was glad he wasn't in his armor for once and settled right down on the couch in the center of the room.
"I'm the guy who's gonna pay you a lot of money to walk in here whenever I want. Yes or no?" She hesitated for a moment.
"How much money can a punk in a hoodie have?"
"Talk to Zuckerberg, he seems to be doing well for himself. Look, I just need to be able to come here whenever. This isn't that hard, lady." He could feel the cockiness in his words and knew full well what that meant.
I am being especially douchey today!
"That's not how I typically run things."
"I don't care. Think about the money."
"Fine. What exactly is it you need to talk about?" The shrink, a tall, blonde woman in her early forties with large glasses, sat down on the couch across from him, waiting.
"I don't know, Doc."
"Okay. Let's try to figure out what's wrong first."
"Extremely stressed. Gonna hurt somebody real soon if I don't loosen up some tension."
"Alright. When did you start feeling this way?"
"I've been highly stressed for the last two years, but not like this."
"Let's start there, then." Nightweaver went into a long, rambling explanation of what had happened, being excruciatingly careful not to include any vital details or names that could give away his identity. He didn't want for anybody to be able to figure out he was having mental issues, and leaving no paper trail was a very important part of that.
"... so then the guy, after making me choose one of these two girls, just goes ahead and shoots them both, right in front of me."
"How did that make you feel?"
"How would you expect? I felt her blood on my face. There was blood everywhere. I still remember the gun. It was a Taurus Raging Bull. There were bits of bone fragment all over. Then I had to sit there and go through that again."
"I'm incredibly sorry for your losses."
"You don't even know what this is all about. I couldn't take it anymore."
"Many people feel that way after severe trauma. What did you do to alleviate the stress then?"
"I put a bullet through my head, that's what I did."
"Excuse me?"
"That's where this all starts to go downhill. You see, all three of us, we ended up being reunited in what you could classify as an afterlife. Problem was, it was the dominion of Trigon. We were all basically in hell."
"I'm finding this story all very hard to believe, Mr...?"
"Just call me N. There's no need for you to know my name, nor the names of the people I associate with."
"Ah, sorry. Either way, this is all very difficult to believe."
"So treat it like it's the truth. I don't care whether or not you believe it. I'm here for your help, not your trust."
"Understood."
"So basically, me and this first girl, we're in the same area. But Trigon's got power over the other, and he's holding her captive, because Trigon and I never got along. He wants to punish me."
"And she's where, exactly?"
"The eleventh stage of hell. We were at the thirteenth. These go in ascending order, as in number one being the highest stage, number thirty six being the deepest, darkest, most vile cesspit imaginable."
"Mmhmm." Weaver wiped some sweat off of his brow and continued on.
"Each of these levels has a different environment. Some of them were freezing cold, some were made of lava and stone, others dense forests or deserts. All very dangerous, filled with demons of all kinds. We fought through to the eleventh stage and get into a scrap with Trigon. He, of course, kicked our asses without lifting a finger and retreated to the thirty second stage."
"Oh my."
"Exactly. You can see how I've been a little stressed out."
"Of course. Now tell me, how exactly did you feel when he got away with... your girlfriend? One of your girlfriends?"
"Just friend at that point. She wasn't happy with me for picking her to die." An alarm went off, cutting Weaver short.
"I'm sorry, but I must get going. My daughter has a dance recital and I might already be late."
"I understand. I don't know when I'll be back."
"I hope soon. You have a very interesting story."
"Glad to hear that." Nightweaver got up and walked through the door, leaving the psychiatrist alone in her office. He stepped out onto the street, feeling the cool wind blowing through his hair. The vigilante looked to his left, then his right, then walked off towards his hotel.
He got off of the elevator and was entirely unsurprised to see Catwoman waiting outside of his door. He was, however, surprised that she hadn't already picked the lock.
"Ah, so you aren't dead," she noted sarcastically as he approached the door.
"Nope. Why aren't you already inside?"
"Felt like you'd be pissed off if I did."
"And Bruce is just fine with it?"
"No, he's just fun to screw with."
"To be honest, I'm more angry you'd show up when you know I've got no mask on."
"Like you care about your secret identity. And before you even start, I know that you consider your real persona dead."
"Good. I'm getting sick of telling people."
"Look, I know you're hurt and all, but it's not permanent." He swiped his keycard and entered the suite, the Cat following close behind him.
"You don't understand." She stepped in front of him, staring angrily.
"Then make me. This is what you couldn't tell me last night, isn't it? Look, you were in a situation I can't honestly expect anybody to be able to handle. No judgements here." He eyed her suspiciously, then moved to the fridge and poured himself a glass of straight vodka.
"I don't trust you on that."
"I know what Sionis does. He made my sister eat her fiance. He cut him into bits and made her eat him. It drove her insane. He's fucked up." He took a sip from the glass and sighed.
"I told him to kill her."
"What? That's a little different."
"It isn't what you're thinking."
"Then explain." She settled down on his couch, getting comfortable.
"All three of us sat down to dinner, her, Raven and I."
"Well wasn't that sweet of you."
"We got our drinks and within a minute we realized we'd been drugged. Even Raven wasn't immune to it, and the girl can practically do anything. When I woke up, they were chained and gagged to the railing, and I was tied up a little in front of them. He was standing there, massive revolver in hand."
"I see where this is going."
"He told me to make a choice. I just couldn't."
"I understand."
"He started counting down from ten. I had to choose. I thought I could save one of them. My mind was clouded, but I figured that if I let Raven live, we might be able to save Kitrina again."
"So you told him to kill her."
"I did. I didn't want her to die, but I was trying my best to make a logical decision. He wasn't true to his word. He broke my will, then spat in my face. He shot Raven next, then grabbed his shotgun and shot my kneecaps off. He left. I'm not going to lie. I broke. I didn't just break, no. I shattered. I sat there crying for what seemed like hours."
"Wait, wait, wait. How did you die, then?"
"I told you. I was a broken man. I couldn't handle life without them, either of them."
"You shot yourself." He nodded, taking in another long gulp of vodka. Catwoman looked at him, an apologetic look playing across her features. "You're gonna be alright, Simon." He let her use of his real name slide.
"So you say. We'll have to see after Black Mask is dead." He turned and walked to the window, looking out at the highrise view of Gotham. She stepped up next to him, the two taking in the view.
"Bruce never goes anywhere this nice and actually enjoys the view."
"I don't know how much I'm enjoying it, but I paid for the room, and that includes the windows."
"Aren't you a romantic."
"Not trying to be romantic."
"Sorry. Touchy subject, I know."
"It's alright. No harm done."
"What's our plan now?"
"Not sure." He looked around, scanning the rooftops nearby. Just as he did, he saw a white bolt flying towards the window. He tackled Catwoman to the ground and draped himself over her, feeling shards of glass spray over his back. A few stuck in and he wiped them off, lifting himself off of Selina afterwards.
"What the hell was that?" she asked. He looked over at the opposite wall and saw the bolt sticking out from it, a slip of paper dangling from it.
"That." Catwoman stuck the slip onto one of her claws and read it out loud.
"Meet me in Crime Alley at midnight tonight if you want help."
"I guess we're going to Crime Alley then."