Chapter 7: Prelude to Friday

(This chapter is unusual. The first song does not exist on Spotify, or anywhere else except YouTube. Beyond that, the songs "Rainbow Connection," "Fly Me to the Moon," "Piano Man," the two classical piano pieces, and "It's Such a Good Feeling," will be played live in-universe, so feel free to sit back, relax, and enjoy listening to them as they are being "played." But you don't have to listen to the classical pieces all the way through. I kinda skim over those ones. Then there's an original song which I am working on recording and getting up on Spotify, but that may take some time, so for now, that's just a blank space. After that, when the * * * appears, the music will resume as normal, ending with "Silent Voice.")

Alone in Wayne Manor once again, I climbed the stairs to the room with the baby grand piano where I finally allowed myself to sit down. My mother had learned to play piano… she had tried to teach me once… unfortunately, she never lived to see my study completed. I hadn't thought about her so much in years, but talking with Dick… I was beginning to remember all sorts of things. Big things, little things… things that made me smile. When I had said that being with him made me feel like a kid again, I didn't mean it in that he made me feel playful or childish. I meant it like… he made me feel the same kind of happy that I was back then. Before everything went dark. It was a feeling I was afraid I would never feel again. But perhaps all of this would be better communicated through song.

The keys were perfectly in tune as I started to play, and the sound was just heartbreakingly beautiful.

(This first song can be found under the name "I Remember" from the film "Ariel's Beginning.")

La la la la…

Under a bright, blue, endless sky…

Wait… I remember that…

How I know that song…

I remember sitting in the moonlight,

And that feeling… what's that feeling,

I remember?

Yes… how I know that song,

Though it's been so long,

I remember happiness without a floor or ceiling,

What's that feeling?

I remember!

La la la la la la la la la la la la,

La! La la!

Oh, I remember her, and how we were,

I remember wanting what the evening would be bringing,

I remember singing,

Under the bright, blue, endless sky!

And I remember, I remember music!

And I'm never going back to the silent law they wrote,

I will sing in every tempo,

Every last chromatic note,

For I, I remember her,

I remember music!

And I—re—mem—ber,

Love!

I listened to the delicate piano fade away, each note reverberating inside my chest like a sparkle of magic. There really wasn't anything like the sound of a piano.

I heard a floorboard creak. If that was Dick again—

Bruce was standing in the doorway, eyeing the old piano. "I didn't know you played."

"…I don't, usually."

He stood there for a while before he said, "Please, don't let me distract you."

Well, alright then. I thought of something else to play and as I drummed the first few keys, he walked over to the nearest seat, wincing slightly and clutching his side as he sat down.

Why are there so many,

Songs about rainbows,

And what's on the other side?

Rainbows are visions,

But only illusions,

And rainbows have nothing to hide,

So we've been told and some choose to believe it,

I know they're wrong, wait and see,

Some day we'll find it, the rainbow connection,

The lovers, the dreamers, and me,

Who said that every wish,

Would be heard and answered,

When wished on the morning star?

Somebody thought of that,

And someone believed it,

Just look what it's done so far,

What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing?

And what do we think we might see?

Some day we'll find it, the rainbow connection,

The lovers, the dreamers, and me,

All of us under its spell,

We know that they're probably ma—gic,

Have you been half asleep?

And have you heard voices?

I hear them calling my name,

Is it the sweet song, that calls the young sailors?

The voice might be one in the same,

I've heard it too many times to ignore it,

It's something that I'm s'pposed to be…

Some day we'll find it, the rainbow connection,

The lovers, the dreamers, and me,

La da da da, dee dee dee,

La da da da da, dee dee dee…

Bruce breathed in, but otherwise remained silent. I thought about trying to play a song that he might personally enjoy. What genre would that even be? Let's see… he was older… upper class… hmm… something old school? I cleared my throat and prepped my fingers.

Fly me to the moon,

And let me play among the stars,

Let me see what spring is like,

On Jupiter and Mars,

In other words,

Hold my hand,

In other words,

Darling, kiss me,

Fill my heart with song,

And let me sing forever more,

You are all I long for,

All I worship and adore,

In other words,

Please be true,

In other words,

I love you,

In other words,

Hold my hand,

In other words,

Darling, kiss me,

Fill my heart with song,

And let me sing forever more,

You are all I long for,

All I worship and adore,

In other words,

Please be true,

In other words,

I love you,

I didn't really know what to do next. Should I keep playing? Try to make conversation? I wasn't always that great when it came to one-on-ones with adults, and especially adults like Bruce. It always kind of felt like their lives were none of my business. I didn't know if that was a result of my more "old fashioned" upbringing or… another factor of my childhood that I recalled with no small amount of disdain.

"You know, I haven't heard that old thing played in a while…"

I looked back at him, sitting there, apparently lost in thought.

"It's good seeing it have a companion again."

I smiled as I turned back to it, thinking of what I might play next for him. I'd never really had such a willing audience before. At least, that is, when I was performing solo.

"Damian."

I looked up. Wayne Jr. had just entered the room, scowling as usual.

"Father," he said flatly. His eyes were on me again—no, wait, not me, the piano. Was he judging my piano playing? The longer he just stood there and stared, the more I was certain of it. So I decided to pull out another oldie, but a goodie.

It's nine o'clock on a Saturday,

The regular crowd shuffles in,

There's an old man sitting next to me,

Making love to his tonic and gin,

He says, "Son, can you play me a memory?

I'm not really sure how it goes,

But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete,

When I wore a younger man's clothes,"

La la la, lid dee da,

La la, lid dee da, da da,

Sing us a song, you're the piano man,

Sing us a song tonight,

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody,

And you've got us feelin' alright,

Now, John at the bar is a friend of mine,

He gets me my drinks for free,

And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke,

But there's some place that he'd rather be,

He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me,"

As the smile ran away from his face,

"But I'm sure that I could be a movie star,

If I could get out of this place,"

Ooh, la la la, lid dee da,

La la, lid dee da, da da,

Now Paul is real-estate novelist,

Who never had time for a wife,

And he's talking with Davey, who's still in the navy,

And probably will be for life,

And the waitress is practising politics,

As the businessman slowly gets stoned,

Yes, they're sharing a drink they called loneliness,

But it's better than drinking alone,

Sing us a song, you're the piano man,

Sing us a song tonight,

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody,

And you've got us feelin' alright,

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday,

And the manager gives me a smile,

Cause he knows that it's me they've been coming to see,

To forget about life for awhile,

And the piano, it sounds like a carnival!

And the microphone smells like a beer,

And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar,

And say, "Man, what are you doing here?"

Oh, la la la, lid dee da,

La la, lid dee da, da da,

Sing us a song, you're the piano man!

Sing us a song tonight!

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody!

And you've got us feelin' alright,

I dared to glance back at Damian after I had finished the outro, but much to my chagrin, he didn't seem all that impressed. Figures. Let me guess: he only listened to Beethoven and Bach?

"Do you play, Damian?" I found myself asking.

"You'll have to be more specific," he replied.

"The piano, of course," and I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know some."

"Come do a duet with me," I said cheerfully, and I scooted over on the bench. As much as he could be annoying, being sincere and congenial would be the only way to get through to him. I was certain of it.

Damian made a scoffing noise with his throat, but then Bruce said, "Why don't you give it a try?"

He looked like he wished he were anywhere else, but he did come over and he did sit down next to me.

"I was thinking we could try something simple," I said, finding my spot on the keyboard.

"I concur."

"How about, Rondo Alla Turca?"

"Child's play."

I smirked. "We'll see."

The piece began with that all-familiar melody that everyone has heard at least a million times, especially if they've ever learned the piano, and the both of us were playing it well. Then the tune changed, and not just because we had entered the next part in the piece. I was deliberately speeding up the tempo.

He squinted, but didn't back down. Our fingers flew over the keys, and it sounded amazing!

By the time the next portion of the piece came along, neither one of us was willing to back down, so we both ended up going faster and faster. My fingers might have started to feel just the slightest bit tight, but I had one more trick up my sleeve. Rather than end the piece when it was supposed to, I continued on into Preludes, Op. 23: No. 5, All marina in G major, back in a slower tempo. Damian only lost count for a second.

I had to keep myself from grinning like a goblin as I pulled out my last little trick. I deliberately started making up notes—little flourishes here and there—to add some flare to the piece. Damian caught on quick, and much to my surprise, fired back with some of his own adjustments. We were both adding in our own flare to the music now, but at this point, I couldn't even think of it as a competition. We were making legitimately beautiful music! We were on fire! I let Damian take the lead. He'd earned it.

We ended with a delicate little flourish, and then I turned to him, smiling.

"That was brilliant! Where have you been all my life!? Finding someone to play with is difficult enough, but improvising together? We were totally jammin', man!"

Damian gave a little, "Hmph," but I could tell he was flattered. "You're not terrible yourself."

"I assume that was meant to be a compliment, so thank you."

"Why don't you show her your viola, Damian?" Bruce asked from his chair.

"You play viola too?" I asked, getting excited. "We could do a piano and string duet!"

"No."

"'No!?' What do you mean, 'no?'" I asked, putting my hands on my hips. "It could be fun!"

"Fun is for children."

I gave him a look and tried my hardest not to laugh. "Are you currently aware of the situation in which you have found yourself, Sir?" He turned and glared at me and I dropped my stage voice. "Look, foolishness, sure, we could all do without, but that is not the same as levity and joy and good, plain, fun. I just had a lot of fun playing with you. So come on. One more?"

He didn't say yes… but he also didn't say no. He didn't get his viola, but he stayed at the piano as we played one final piece. This time, we stuck more so to the original score, but I didn't mind taking it easy after that lightning round just a bit ago.

I was sad when it was over, because Bruce said that he was finally going to bed, and with him leaving, Damian didn't have much of a reason to stay either.

"Alright, alright," I said, "I'll just play us out." I stretched my fingers and set into one last song.

It's such a good feeling to know you're alive,

It's such a happy feeling, you're growing inside,

And when you wake up, ready to say,

"I think I'll make a snappy new day,"

It's such a good feeling, a very good feeling,

A feeling you know that,

I'll be back… when the day is new…

And I'll have more ideas for you…

And you'll have things you'll want to talk about…

I… will… too…

I looked to Damian as I sang that last part. Not sure if he took it as friendly as I meant it—or maybe he literally doesn't know how to express himself other than by frowning—but either way, I'd had my fun, and I was pretty sure he'd enjoyed himself too.

In the background, Bruce was smiling.

I stood as the two of them left.

That had been fun.

But then… I stopped and looked back at the piano. While there was no one else around… there was one last thing I wanted to do.

I started to hum.

Hm-mm… hm-mm…

Hm hm hm hm hm…

Your smile's higher than wings seem to fly…

"Mm, no, hold on…"

Your smile's brighter, but I don't know why…

You smile as bright as the sun in the sky…

You fill my—no—

Hm-mm… hm-mm…

Hm hm hm hm hm…

My heart is soaring, but I don't know why…

And if I were falling,

For you, I'd be calling,

But I feel—

But I'm not—

You're never—

I'm never afraid, if you're by my side—

I don't feel so frightened, when you're by my side,

"There we go…"

Whenever I feel all alone,

It's you I can count on,

You hold me when I'm feeling down,

I can't believe I found someone,

Who knows me,

Like no one knows me,

And makes me feel like I can fly!

It's like I know you,

Know all about you,

Like I've known you all my life!

And when the rain comes,

And the sky clouds over,

I… will… be… there… to help you,

Find the light again,

Your shy, then you're playful,

Witty and sensational,

Dunno what you're thinking about half the time,

We met when you pulled me,

Up from the darkness,

So I could fall into your blue ocean eyes!

With you I never feel alone,

I'm home in your hands so hold me,

Tight and say you'll never go,

We can strike up the band! 'Cause you,

Know me,

Like no one knows me,

You make me feel like I can fly!

It's like I know you,

Know all about you,

Like I've known you all my life!

And when the rain comes,

And you feel bowled over,

I… will… be… there… to hold you,

Your heart I will defend,

It was branching off quite significantly from the original tune—especially in the chorus—but that was pretty normal for my style of writing. It was all about finding the right fit for the song itself, and so far, let's just say, I was shedding a decent few crocodile tears. Now if only I could figure out what to put at the beginning. Those first two lines were still a blank and for the life of me I couldn't fill them in. Nothing sounded quite right.

Oh well. Guess all I could do tonight was write down the lyrics I did have and keep trying to figure out the ones I didn't tomorrow.

It only dawned on me that morning (Thursday) that the reason I never saw Duke or Damian at breakfast was because they woke up at a reasonable hour, and I had a habit of waking up at nine/ten o'clock. What can I say? Once a night owl, always a night owl. But at least I wasn't the only one. Bruce joined me for pancakes and sausages, yawning just as much as I was rubbing my eyes. It didn't look like he had slept particularly well.

"Morning," I said.

"Good morning."

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Typically, this would be the part where the person I was talking to would say something like, "Oh, I wanted to go to the lake," or "we should play tennis," but Bruce…

He held up his newspaper, scanning the headlines and said, "Probably try to track down that serial killer."

It was almost like I'd forgotten who he was. But at least now Alfred's style of humour made sense. I felt tempted to make a wisecrack myself, watching him sit there, paper in one hand, coffee in the other, casually talking about tracking down serial killers like it was just another normal Thursday morning. Then again, it probably was normal for him.

"So…" Bruce gave a subtle cough, setting down his mug. "You and Dick seem… close."

I felt my pancake go down my throat sideways. "Ahem, I mean, I guess—I don't know. You could call it that." Oh boy. Was this going to be one of those talks? This was all happening so suddenly! I wasn't ready! Silent panicking!

"I've known Dick long enough to know when he's fallen for someone. He seems happy with you."

I hid a small smile, my hands in my lap.

"But I feel it's only fair to give you a word of caution."

Oh boy. Here it comes.

"It isn't easy dating a vigilante."

Ooooh. I thought this was going in a different direction. Never mind.

"It's a lot of long, sleepless nights, a lot of tough decisions, and there's always the possibility that you may never see him again. For one reason or another."

"…Yeah, well…" I said, my eyes becoming distant. "Welcome to being alive."

"It's more than just average life."

I knew he was just trying to warn me… and I knew he'd probably seen more than enough to be qualified to warn me too… but I couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting some things about me.

"Thank you for looking out for my feelings, I do appreciate it… but… I know what it looks like when something… bad happens… I've both seen it happen to others, and had it happen to me… and I've been mentally preparing myself for those bad things ever since my mom died. I have to… because I know now that you never just get hit with one tragedy over the course of your life… and I don't want to be caught off guard again. Which is why I always keep an up-to-date will on me." He stared at me for a moment, his eyes hard. "Is it really all that shocking? I find it odd that more people don't account for death in the day-to-day. I mean, I understand not wanting to, but avoiding that basic practicality can very easily land you in a place like we were in when she passed. You need to have contingency plans for when bad things happen… right?"

He had a hand on his chin, partially covering his mouth while his eyes went from staring out across the table, to scrutinising me. "…Agreed."

"And even if people die…" I went on, feeling as though there was more I could say on the subject. "…you know, they were always going to die some day… the only sad part about it is knowing there are some things we'll never get to do, and that we didn't use our time more wisely while we had the chance."

"Is it possible you've found a kindred spirit, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, coming in and pouring my tea.

I chuckled. "Depressed souls think alike, I guess."

"They must," said Bruce, looking just the tiniest bit taken aback.

I thought about how it had been eluded to; Bruce's past. Now that I knew his full name, I remembered that newspaper headline. "Millionaire and Wife, Dead—Son to Inherit an Empire." It reminded me of Dick's past. Perhaps that was the reason Bruce took him in.

…And the reason he took me in too.

"But that being said," Bruce went on seriously, "I don't think you quite realise the… extent of possible unfortunate scenarios. There are some things that happen in our line of work that some would consider a fate worse than death."

He had me there. I'd never prepped myself for Poison Ivy attacks, for example.

"And more often than not, our service to the lives of others often outweighs many personal obligations… and affections. There may come a time when one of you is forced to make a hard choice."

Another excellent point. And yet…

Again, I thought back to when Dick had come into to the cave, tired, sweaty, and wounded. I thought about… how I had stood there for a second, like a deer in the headlights, being useless… like so many other times in my life. Here was a guy who had decided to take it upon himself to risk his life—his life—and everything he loves to stop bad people from hurting the innocent, and he doesn't so much as get a thank you, let alone income or benefits. Most people probably don't even know just how kind of a person he truly is… and knowing all of that… finding myself in this particularly advantageous position… I felt this burning desire to be the person who would give him that "thank you." The person who would be there to patch up his wounds and hug him and make him tea. Especially since… he didn't currently have… a woman in his life… giving him that.

"I understand and accept the reality that at any point he may die or end things with me." Again, he looked at me strangely. "My main concern… if I may speak my mind…" and I felt a little vulnerable saying this, but, "I just want to… support him in any way that I can. Support his work. And more than anything… be a safe place for him, while he's still among the living. I know how important that is. My dad taught me from a very early age that home and family are supposed to be a safe haven. The one place where you can be yourself and feel at peace. No people to please, no high expectations, no quotas to meet… just unconditional love. There's never been a doubt in my mind that my ultimate destiny would be to play a supporting role one day…" I turned and looked Bruce square in the eye. "And I intend to play it fully. Sacrifices, lonely nights, and heartbreak included."

He had this funny expression that I couldn't rightly read. "Nobody talks like that anymore."

"Well then, I guess I'm nobody."

In the back of my mind, I knew that I was probably talking a bigger game than I was really prepared to play, but the way I saw it, I was laying out my convictions. It would simply be up to future me to rise to them.

"Your father sounds like a wise man."

"He is. I owe most of who I am to him. He's the kind of dad who, even though he's not perfect, he tries his best to be there for all of his kids. Even to the point of watching My Little Pony with his twelve-year-old daughter and taking her out bra shopping when she didn't have anyone else."

Oh… I hadn't realised just how much I missed him until right then. Suddenly, the car crash came into my mind, hitting me like a ton of bricks, but I tried to keep myself together. As long as I kept telling myself that there was a chance we might find him soon and that everything would be alright, I could keep the tears at bay. If only just.

Bruce remained as slate-faced and serious as he had at the start of breakfast. It was nearly impossible for me to guess what he may have been thinking. "But are you prepared to help him face those demons? Really? I ask because… you seem… innocent. Young." He probably meant naive and fearful, especially after seeing how much of a crying wreck I'd been over the week, not to mention the incident with the dogs. "I just… I'd hate for you to march into… his life… and find that it's much darker than you first thought."

"I'm sure I will," I said, even now imagining it. "After all, I'd never even seen an open wound until yesterday. And… I was scared… but I want to learn to be brave. I'm willing to learn what I need to learn to be able… to help. I've already spent too much of my life being useless."

"And you're sure you want to keep diving into deeper waters?"

"I want to try. Even if it doesn't work out… I want to be able to say that I tried."

His forehead was heavy with wrinkles. Wrinkles that I could tell had been born from years' worth of stress and anxiety and pain. They looked heavy on his face. Too heavy.

"But…" I said carefully, gripping at my skirt. "If… at any time, you think that I ought to stop trying… if you think it would be… best… for everyone…"

He let out a breath through his nose. "That decision is solely yours. I can't be the one to make it for you."

"But I would listen to your opinion. You seem like the kind of guy who might know a thing or two more than me." I tried to smile, but he didn't look any less serious. "Look, I'm under no delusions about who and what I am… but I want to grow… and part of growing is learning to listen to those who are smarter than you. And in my case, that's usually just about everyone else in the room."

"I wouldn't be so quick to assume you're unintelligent," he said, his tone becoming just a bit more gentle. "At any rate, you seem to have a kind heart. A good heart. The world needs more of that."

I tentatively took another bite of my pancake.

So… was that it? Was the conversation done? I don't know what exactly I had been expecting… guess I assumed we'd get to some grand conclusion, or something. Funny how underwhelming real life can seem… at least compared to fiction. And yet it matters infinitely more.

"Hey, um… Bruce?" I asked, feeling nervous. "I kinda was curious—you don't have to answer, I know it's probably personal, but—I was wondering… why did you decide to become Batman?"

I didn't expect an answer. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to talk about his feelings or his emotional backstory, let alone with someone he didn't know all that well yet. But, he surprised me.

As he reached for his coffee again, taking a long sip, he said, "At first, it was about justice. Righting the wrongs of Gotham. But now…" he took a long look across the room, thinking, "…it's also about… the hope that, one day… let's just say… the children of this city will be able to walk down its streets without fear. That there'll be a day when Batman is no longer needed."

I smiled. "I knew it."

"What?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I knew you weren't as dark as you seem. You've got a good heart too."

I don't know why, but he didn't seem to want to hear that. He suppressed a sigh and looked as though he was considering reading over his paper a second time. Oh. I see. Was this one of those brooding, old man situations? Jeez, it's like I really was back home. And if that was the case, then I knew there wasn't much I could say to change his mind. Except for this one thing…

"It's your choice," I found myself saying. He looked at me again, non-verbally asking for clarification. "You get to choose what you believe about yourself. And no matter how frank and fair you think you're being, just remember… be kind to yourself."

Bruce looked as though he didn't know what to say. He just sat there, looking down at his plate, thinking. I hope I hadn't overstepped a line. It's just… well, I'd been at this particular juncture before. After my mom passed, my dad… let's just say, it was really, really, really, really, really hard for him, and me and my siblings were some of the few people he had to lean on, so…

"I should tell you," said Bruce, apparently having decided to change the topic of conversation. "I heard back from one of my friends I was telling you about. She's looked over the crash scene and can't seem to find anything odd about it. Do you think you would mind meeting with her and showing her the place you woke up?"

"Not at all," I said plainly. I was glad for the change of pace, and a reason to get out of the manor. Although, I was a little worried that my secret superpowers may not remain so secret for very long. I should have known that it would catch up with me sooner or later. Now I just needed to come up with something believable to say when they inevitably asked me why I didn't mention it sooner. "When does she want to meet?"

"Is right now too soon?"

I first met Raven over a video call in the Batcave. She seemed… interesting. I had never really heard of her before (granted, I hadn't heard of most of the vigilantes in Gotham either) and I learned from Bruce that she was a magic user, but not much else. She looked to be about my age, maybe a little older, she was very sullen and her whole demeanour and wardrobe screamed "edgy goth," from her shadowy cloak to her black lipstick. I got the feeling that there was something… dark… about her long before we met up in person.

Bruce was in his Batsuit (purely for practical reasons, he had assured Alfred. Bruce Wayne couldn't be seen in public with Raven, after all) and I was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, my hair tied up in the back.

After we had landed in a small, open area, I walked over to the patch of grass that looked the most familiar and gazed up at the highway. This had been it. There didn't seem to be anything special about it. No burn marks, no sparkles, no nothing. Just a lot of grass, weeds, rocks, and dirt.

"Pretty sure this is it," I said, still looking around. "I woke up… I think, about here… and then I started walking toward the city… about a stone's throw away from the road."

Raven came over, her long, dark cape gliding over the top of the grass, and she held out her hand.

I got this uncomfortable feeling when she started using her magic, like a cold shiver running through me. I don't think I liked Raven's powers very much. When I call them dark, I don't mean it literally—like it was colourless (although it was that too)—I mean it like: even though I only briefly encountered them, they made me feel like I was being slowly pulled over to a black hole of every worst nightmare I had ever had.

Er—well… something to that effect, anyway.

"I don't sense anything," she said in her oddly emotionless voice. "You're sure this is the place?" I nodded and she looked it over one more time. "What do you remember? Even the slightest detail could be useful."

I tried to think.

The road—the van—in the dark—rain against the windows…

Headlights shining in my eyes…

My body suddenly lurching to one side…

An explosion of sound so loud it was like I was in the middle of a hurricane…

Glass shattering around me…

Then… and then…

I felt my heart jump a little as I remembered the white light for some reason.

"We can stop if it makes you uncomfortable," said Raven plainly.

I took in a breath through the nose. "There was a bright, white light. I don't know what from… but it's the only thing I can think of. The last thing I remember before waking up."

Raven appeared thoughtful.

"Any ideas?" Bruce asked.

"A couple, but none of them are my area of expertise. I'll talk to some people and get back to you." Then she turned to me. "Whatever force brought you here, it was not magic. At least, none that I can trace."

Great. So a dead end. That was disappointing.

I looked at the ground, and then up at Raven. We were noticeably standing pretty far apart (at least compared to Batman, who split the distance between us) and I wondered if I had been intentionally staying away. It wasn't anything personal, it's just… those shivers were kind of hard to ignore. Then, I got this feeling; like she could tell why I was avoiding her, and that she knew that I knew that she knew I was avoiding her. (What did I even just write?)

"But so then," I said, trying not to get hung up on that awkward mental back-and-forth, "How else do you think it could have happened? I mean, one person doesn't just teleport across a country for no reason."

"There may be other forces at play," said Batman thoughtfully. "We'll just have to keep looking into it."

For how long? Exactly how many other "forces" could there be? And why had this one in particular dumped me here of all places? I just wish I had a clue, or a hint, or something. Anything to point me in a direction.

I was looking around again at the overall unremarkable landscape when my eyes crossed paths with Raven's. She was staring at me. How was it that even when her hood was up, I could still clearly see her eyes? "What did you say your name was again?" She asked.

"Brielle."

"Full name?"

I didn't know why that mattered, but I went along with it. "Brielle Joy Blanchett."

She "hmmed" and that seemed to be the end of it. Weird.

After that, there wasn't anything else to do besides fly back to the manor. I didn't mind finally being out of Raven's vicinity, but I did wish the trip had been at least a little more productive.

"Is everything alright?" Batman asked as we flew. "You seemed a bit… off balance back there."

"I'm fine," I replied, strapped into one of the Batwing's seats. Then I had a thought. "What exactly are Raven's powers, by the way?"

"She's half demon. Her magic comes from her father, Trigon, the demon lord."

Oh. Lovely. Guess that explains it then.

"I'm sure it must seem a bit off-putting at first, but Raven is a good person, and one of our strongest allies."

I nodded, not wanting to make it seem like I didn't care about all the good she's done as a superhero. It was just… still very unsettling; her powers, and her lineage. I didn't think that could ever be helped. I saw it simply as: unfortunate.