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#someone call up dc and put rose wilson on a team with her; I just think they would be fun!
fantastic-nonsense · 1 year
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broke: putting all of DC's ex-child assassins on the Teen Titans with Tim Drake
woke: putting all of DC's ex-child assassins on the Outlaws with Jason Todd
bespoke: putting all of DC's ex-child assassins on a team with Stephanie Brown
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forlornmelody · 11 months
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Outlaws, Chapter 1: Raise Hell
Rating: Explicit (Smut, violence, drug addiction.)
Fandom: DC Comics, Titans (2018-2023) to be specific.
Ship: Jason Todd/Rose Wilson. Rose Wilson/Roy Harper. Jason Todd/Roy Harper, Rose Wilson/Artemis of Bana-Mighdall,
Summary:  The road to redemption is fraught with twists and turns, especially when one has been to hell and back. Jason Todd swore he'd never work with a team again, but when a familiar foe shows up in Gotham, A.R.G.U.S. leaves him little choice.
Note: chapter titles are named for songs from my Outlaws playlist. This one is named for "Raise Hell" by Dorothy.
Link: here
---
Normally Amanda Waller puts out her clove cigarettes on the ground with her heel. This time she hands the butt to her assistant. “Find a trash can.” Few things faze her, not after years in her line of work. But the sight before her eyes makes her reach for her lighter. “Run me through the facts.” 
The Gotham CSI wrinkles his nose. Funny, that the guy has a sense of smell at all after living in this cesspool. Recent transplant, maybe? “We’re waiting for confirmation toxicology, but it looks like they all died of a severe fungal infection.” He leads Waller through the scene, pausing by each body, labeled by number. “Weird thing though, we didn’t find any in the ventilation system.” The corpses look like they’ve rested at the bank for ages– mushrooms growing out of their eyes, their mouths, their ears–popping out of their armpits, their shirt sleeves–even their toes. 
Waller clicks her tongue. “Lamia spores.”
“Ma’am?”
Forget the cigarette. She needs a stiff bourbon to wash this dry musk out of her throat. “Things just got a lot more complicated.” Waller turns abruptly, heading for the bullet-proofed van she arrived in. “I gotta make a phone call.”
—---
“You’ve no idea the trouble you’re in, do you?”
Jason Todd sits in an interrogation room, handcuffed to the back of his chair. His Red Hood helmet rests on the table in front of him, in reach and out of reach at the same time. Across the table stands a black woman with short, almost buzzed-cut blonde hair. She works with Barbara, doesn’t she? 
“I dunno, lady. Should I?” He lets loose his smirk, eyeing her like a cat eyes a bird. 
The lady frowns grimly. “You’re too hot for Blackgate.”
“Why thank you.”
She ignores him. “And those too hot for Blackgate go to Belle Reve.”
That stops him cold. Belle Reve is Amanda Waller’s high security zoo. One of the few prisons in the country not stuffed to the brim with convicts, cause it’s really just a funnel for her pet project: The Suicide Squad. 
“So you’ve heard of it.”
Jason narrows his eyes. “So who’s on the other side of that mirror? Gordon? Waller?” 
“Your ticket away from getting a bomb installed in your brain.” 
His boots aren’t chained to anything. Interesting. Jason tilts his chair back, bracing one boot against the edge of the table. “Look, lady. I can make a deal with Satan himself, but I gotta see him face to face first.” 
The door clicks open, and she steps in wearing loafers. Real snakeskin by the look of it. Black slacks. Burgundy sweater. Smart watch. Her raven-silk hair swept into a neat ponytail. Really, she could pass for your average schoolteacher if she wasn’t one of the most terrifying women on earth. “I can take it from here, Vee. Thank you.”
He’s only seen her on Batman’s computer. Always thought she’d be taller. This woman had Deathstroke’s kid? More than that–Adeline Kane (or does she still go by Wilson?) taught Slade Wilson how to fight. In a way, she’s at least partially responsible for the hell Jason went through two years ago. 
“Jason Peter Todd. You ended Batman. Wrecked Gotham City. You turned one of my agents and nearly fucked my most important mission.”
Agent? Was she still military? “Flattered, lady. But you still haven’t told me why I’m–” Jason rattles at his cuffs, “--here.”
“I should kill you.”
Really, Jason should keep his mouth shut. One does not talk smack to someone as powerful as her. Not if they want to remain intact. “I’m already dead, lad–”
“But one doesn’t destroy a weapon one can use.” Adeline Kane whips out a key and unlocks Jason’s cuffs. “Let me introduce you to your team.” She heads out the door, not waiting for him to follow. 
Rubbing his wrists, Jason glances up and down the nondescript hallway. He sees doors on either side, and a fire exit at the far end. “I don’t do teams anymore, lady.”
“It’s Adeline. And it’s my team, or Waller’s. Your choice.” Slade’s ex (or would she be his widow now?) stops just before the last door on the left, pushing it open. She folds her arms as she waits for him. “I don’t have all day, Todd.”
Slipping inside, Jason has another comeback ready, but it falls soundlessly from his lips when he sees those seated inside. “Donna?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Donna smirks, but her eyes stare him down dead. Fuck. She knows about Hank. 
“I–” Jason starts to say, but then he sees the young man sitting next to her, and he feels lightheaded. 
The second ghost waves back, a shit-eating grin on his face. As if he had never died in the first place. As if his death hadn’t completely destroyed Jason Todd’s miserable life. 
Jericho Fucking Wilson. 
Adeline shuts the door behind them. “Jason Todd, codename: RED HOOD, meet your team.”
He should probably sit down, but his legs won’t move. Act cool. Still wanting to keel over, he leans back against the door, folding his arms.
“Roy Harper–” A dude with ginger hair salutes casually in Jason’s direction. “--codename: ARSENAL.”
“You already know Donna Troy, codename WONDERGIRL.” Donna’s smile vanishes. If looks could kill…
Adeline’s steel voice softens just slightly. “My son, Jericho.” No codename? Jason quirks an eyebrow but says nothing. The rest of his brain is too occupied trying to figure out how dear Addie Kane found another Lazarus Pit. 
“Artemis of Bana Migdal.” A tall, auburn-haired, and olive-skinned woman nods at him, her arms folded. She could probably fold him in half if she wanted to. “Codename–”
Artemis clears her throat. “I do not need a–”
Adeline continues without so much as a side-glance. “GRACE.” 
Artemis’s mouth slams shut–her bright green eyes flashing. 
“And lastly–Jericho.” Her mouth twists. “Where’s your goddamn sister?” 
No.
Jericho lets out a heavy breath, his hands signing his reply. 
“Go get her, please.” Jericho rises from his seat, hurrying into the hallway. 
Fuck, no. 
“Assuming she’s still breathing.” Donna murmurs. Funny, Jason’s pretty sure he’s not breathing either. 
Fuck fuck fuck. Jason would kill for a beer right now. Actually, that window across the room seems like a nice one to jump out of. They’re on the ground floor, right? He should run. He just needs to pick up his fucking feet and go, but they won’t move. C’mon. C’mon. 
The door opens again. She stumbles in, her platinum hair greasy and disheveled. Jericho closes the door behind them and Rose Wilson flops into the nearest empty chair. Without even looking at him, or anyone really, she folds her arms on the table and uses them as a pillow. 
So, some of us is real and some of us isn’t?
No! No, this is real.
“Glad you could bother to join us, Rose.”
“Where was she?” Artemis asks, quirking an eyebrow.
Jericho signs “Gym.”
Donna smirks. “You owe me twenty, Harper.”
Roy sighs as he fishes out his wallet. “You okay, Rose?”
She opens her eyes briefly, then closes them. 
“Rose?” Adeline asks, and when she doesn’t get a response, she slams her hands on the table. “Rose. LIllian. Wilson!”
Rose jerks awake, her bloodshot eyes glaring with fury. She almost looks like she’s about to snap out some retort, but she leans back in her seat instead. Too exhausted to argue? Yeah, Jason remembers the feeling with an anvil dropping in his stomach. Out of habit, he reaches into his pocket for the inhaler that isn’t there. That won’t be there ever again. Fuck.
A glimmer of a proud smile ghosts across Adeline’s face. “Now that you’re all here. It’s time to introduce you to your first assignment.” She flips the light switch off, and nods at Vee to turn the projector on. How the fuck did Vee even get in this tiny-ass room without him noticing? Jason shakes it off. 
Roy lets out a low whistle. 
“Oh shit,” Donna murmurs. 
Jason turns back to the screen, and he swears under his breath. Two bright green eyes stare back at him, with matching green lipstick and glossy red hair. 
Poison Ivy. 
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pookapics · 4 years
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Steve Rogers x Reader - The Safe Place - Part 1 of 2
Part 1 of 2
Warnings/Ratings - Endgame canon divergence, Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader (platonic), family man Steve Rogers, Say nope to that endgame ending thanks, Bucky needs comfort and love, Fluff just fluff
Summary : Everyone is back, but Bucky fears that as soon as he got his best friend back, he’s going to lose him again. But what if Steve didn’t leave? And why did he stay?
All from Bucky’s POV - It will make sense as you read!
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Everyone was back, after 5 years of grieving, the team had brought everyone back. Tony gave his life to end the fight against Thanos, he’d sacrificed himself so that everyone would be safe from Thanos’ tyrannical rule. Everyone was standing by the lake which was next to Tony’s home as the wreath containing Tony’s old arc reactor drifted off on the waves of the lake, the memory of Tony Stark and the man he’d become would never die.The funeral was shrouded in trees as everyone gathered to celebrate the life and death of Tony Stark. Everyone had been gathered, Fury was there to remember the man they would never forget. 
Steve was brought back when he felt a hand upon his shoulder, it was Bucky. Steve smiled softly, it felt so good to have him back here beside him. Sam wandered over, it felt good to Steve to have two of his closest and best friends beside him once again. Steve adjusted his stealth-suit as he was handed the case containing the infinity stones, he withheld slight nerves and so did everyone who was gathered there by the lake to see Steve go return the stones. Bucky gave Steve a look, as if expecting something from his long-time friend but Steve simply didn’t understand what Bucky was instigating. 
“Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” He joked as he stared into the eyes of his oldest best friend, Bucky retorted with a smile “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” A moment of silence broke before the two men embraced, Bucky silently spoke “Gonna miss you Buddy.” His voice solemn, Steve sighed “Its going to be okay, Buck.” Before turning away to approach the chamber, Steve prepared to be sent back into time to return each stone to their rightful place in time, Bruce gave the signal and Steve disappeared into time and space. 
Bucky POV
My stomach churned, I had a feeling he wasn’t coming back, that he was going to return to Peggy and that he would leave me here. As selfish as that sounded in my head, it was true, this was a chance for me and Steve to move on with our past and live in this time but i’m not sure if Steve has let go of his first love. 
Steve hadn’t returned yet, my internal fears were rising their heads as Sam and Bruce panicked, trying to get him back as he’d been gone longer than he was supposed to. I bit the inside of my cheek and clenched my fist, I knew this would happen. But it still hurt. I turned away as I heard Bruce and Sam worry about Steve
“Sam.” Trying to get his attention
 That’s when I saw the silhouette of a man sitting on a bench further away from us, his back turned and faced towards the lake, his face looking at the water. I hadn’t talked to Steve last night before all of this, he’d been in his room for a few hours, seemingly on the phone with someone but I couldn’t tell exactly who. I guided Sam to walk over first to see him first, I stayed back and watched the two interact, I kept my eyes on the lake before me. 
That was until I saw them rise to their feet and turn to face me. Steve. He was still the same Steve, not aged a moment since I saw him seconds before. He didn’t leave, he stayed here. I was shocked as the two men sauntered over, Sam’s arm had Steve’s old shield strapped to it, strapped onto his forearm proudly. Steve walked over, face to face with me when he joked “Buck. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Still same old Steve. Quickly, I wrapped my arms around him and embraced “You Punk!” holding onto my long-time best friend of over 70 years “You stayed…” was all that left my lips as I heard Steve chuckle “Of course I did, I belong here Bud.” patting me on the back and smiling as he continued “My family and my home is here, in the 21st century.” I knew in that moment what he meant, the life back in the 1940’s and 50’s was long-gone. We’d changed, we couldn’t fit back in when we’d experienced so much that couldn’t be pushed aside, we knew too much about the future, we belonged in this time and place. 
Steve had got his closure, I think I’m on my way to finding my own now I suppose.
 As I looked at Steve, I could see his body completely relaxed and at ease, a side of Steve I hadn’t seen of Steve since before he became Captain America. It was as if when the title of Captain America was relinquished onto Sam that it lifted a weight, a burden that was on his shoulders for far too long. 
I preferred this side of him.
Sam broke the comfortable silence “I need a vacation before I can start throwing this thing around.” pointing to the shield strapped to his arm, smiling gently. I shoved him gently “We just got back and you want a vacation?” I joked, though me and Sam usually fought like cat and dog, we knew that we were close friends deep down. Steve smiled and watched us as Sam spoke up “I need a break okay?! We’ve been gone for 5 years, Bucky! A lot has possibly changed!” laughing and shoving me back. Steve intervened quickly “Sam’s right, you both need a break before going back. A lot has changed in 5 years…” Steve sighed which made me quirk a brow but Steve spoke up again “And I happen to know the perfect place.” Steve seemed to brighten when he thought about this place he was suggesting “Oh yeah? Where’s that?” Sam spoke up and stared at Steve, awaiting an answer “Its a couple states over, a bit remote.” he smiled and walked with us back to the cabin.
 I was shocked, Steve left Brooklyn and D.C?
I spoke up “You left Brooklyn and DC?” Steve simply nodded “I came back and forth for the others but I needed a place away from it all, I guess. I needed quiet.” I understood, Steve deserved a break and with his now retirement he would get just that. I spoke up “I’m in, for this vacation I mean.” Sam nodded to which Steve smiled “We’ll leave in a couple of days.” he walked towards the cabin to see how the team was doing. For some reason, something in my gut made me feel as if Steve was up to something, I blame it on Steve being a hassle back in the day for doing reckless things. I couldn’t pinpoint what he was hiding but it definitely had something to do with the house. 
Time-skip~~~
It had been a few days since the funeral and Steve, Sam and I were en route to the place Steve had a couple states over, the place seemed surrounded by trees and resembled a large log cabin. The trees shrouded over the cabin, keeping it secret and tucked away, like something out of a fairy tale. I couldn’t help but smile, this place was perfectly tucked away and it felt almost undetectable and secret to outsiders, perfect for a superhero trying to stay low and out of sight in his private and quiet time. Steve ushered us out of the rental car which was parked in the driveway, leading us around back to a white-picket gate that surrounded a large garden which backed onto the large expanse of woodland, it was beautiful. Wildflowers bloomed in every direction, rose bushes littered the large garden, all varied in colours with some yellow, pink and red. I felt so at ease here, until a soft voice rang out from the other side of the garden 
“James? James?” the feminine voice spoke out, seemingly getting closer to where we were standing, I glanced to Steve quickly in shock “Who is that? Why are they calling out my name?” I was shocked as I simply saw Steve smiled and whispered “Wait.” Sam was also shocked and beyond confused, just watching as a figure walked into our field of vision. My eyes widened.
There in the midst of the grass was a woman, dressed in dirty dungarees, stained by what seemed to be soil on the knees, from what I could tell she’d been gardening for sometime as her hands were holding her also dirtied gardening gloves which she stuffed into one of her dungaree pockets, the shirt she wore underneath the dungarees was oversized and hung loosely on her body, a men’s shirt by the looks of it just by the mere-largeness of the garment. The woman’s hair was swept back, sweat upon her forehead probably from working in the garden for some time before we came, her eyes fell upon us. She raised her hand to her mouth, two rings graced her ring finger, her eyes as wide as mine and Sam’s.
“Steve?” She managed to speak as she walked over, putting down the rake she was holding in her other hand as she got closer to us. Steve stepped forward and looked at her with what I could only express and explain as pure admiration and love as he spoke “I’m back.” the woman leapt into his arm, legs wrapped around his waist “Its over! You did it!” she nuzzled her face into Steve’s neck, smiling wide and her arms coiled around his neck. I watched with Sam beside me, Steve had found someone. I smiled, that punk had got his dream, the one he never thought he’d get after he was retrieved from the ice, the couple pulled back from their embrace and turned to face the two of us. The woman’s bright eyes looked at us in shock as Steve wrapped his arm around her waist gently “This is Sam Wilson and James Buchanan Barnes, but I think you already know that don’t you honey?” he smiled down at her and turned to Sam and I “Sam. Bucky. This is my wife, (YN).” 
The little punk had truly hit the jackpot, I was proud of him.
(YN) stepped towards us “Its so good to finally meet the two of you.” she spoke with a smile, she meant every word that left her lips, I smiled and watched as Sam stepped forward to hug her, she took the embrace with a smile and pulled back and turned to me “And you… Its so good to finally meet you Buc-” just as you were speaking a small bundle came running and bumped into my knees, thanks to being a super soldier, I was steady but watched as the small figure began rubbing their little head, a head of golden curly locks which had some dirt in it, matching the colour of Steve’s hair perfectly. The little figure lifted their heads and locked eyes with me, it was Steve’s eyes staring back at me, the large baby blues which were rounded by the chubby cheeks.
(YN) quickly leant down to pick the boy up and balance her upon her hip with ease as the little boy stared at me with wondrous eyes, somewhat hiding in (Y/N)’s hair. (Y/N) smiled at the little boy and then to her husband who was now walking over to stand by his wife, kissing her cheek gently “The last person to introduce. Sam. Bucky. This is my son.” the little boy squealed at hearing his dad’s voice and gave grabby hands out to him, wanting to be held. The pass-over of the child was made between Steve and (YN) gently as not to jostle him too hard. Sam’s jaw was on the floor, I merely smiled again.
A son. 
The little boy played with the zippers of his father’s jacket and babbled about something, forming small sentences already which were rather clear and understandable. I turned to (Y/N) and asked “What’s his name?” not wanting to spook the little boy who was so enraptured by his father being back. A single word left the woman’s lips
‘James’...
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opheliawillowbrook · 5 years
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Let the Record Show
A/N: So as stated, this fic has been written to provide closure to the infamous arc brought about in Nightwing #93 in which (if you are unaware-so spoilers!) Nightwing is raped by Tarantula (Catalina) after the death of Blockbuster because, (if you think like Devin Grayson) why the fuck not, right? Thankfully for those of you reading this, I don't. But in any case, my friend (Embrlee Frith) and I have discussed this arc in-depth and thought it (aside from most untactful) very poorly handled. Which is a shame since there really were some good bones to discuss, not just about rape, but also male rape victims in our society and the aftermath that all victims of sexual assault and rape survivors go through. However, as most of you are probably aware, DC and Devin Grayson sorta dropped that ball and refused to pic it back up. Though, to be fair, Ms. Grayson, being, well-Ms. Grayson, did try and clarify the scene by referring to it as "non-consensual sex" which is probably the most accurate example of an oxymoron one can bring to fruition, but that's a subject for another time. But given the sort of "mishandling" of the canon, I was commissioned by our lovely Ms. Frith to cover this subject matter and try and bring some closure to this event for both the reader and the character.
I'd also like to apologize to anyone offended by my words of Ms. Grayson. I'm clearly not a fan of her work (as I'm sure I've made it very clear) I just think as a writer this subject matter deserved far more respect than it got and this is my attempt at providing that.
I Also recently re-edited this story and hope the changes help make it feel finished. Please let me know what you think :) I also found a great song to go along with this fic. It's called "They're Not Horses, They're Dead Unicorns" by Bayside. So if you like a little music with you reading, you might enjoy it!
So if you're still reading this, I'd like to thank you. Let me know what you think and let's see if we can put this ghost to rest now, shall we?
As Always, With Love
-Ophelia
“She was a termite, Eating away at my roots. I was just a lost soul, who needed a home, I was filling, a void, with you.” --Bayside
He sat in a dark corner of the crowded bar at a small table by the foggy window. This was far from how he'd normally spend an evening, but tonight was far from a normal night. It had begun to rain over Gotham, the air thick with its dewy metallic scent. It almost smelled like blood—like her . He looked down at his half empty beer bottle, a little distressed that he was three drinks in, and the edge still wasn't off.
Drinking was always something he'd avoided, something he looked at as unnecessary and otiose, but in the wake of the past year, he'd built something of a tolerance to it. It was all he could do to cope at times. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic; he mostly only had a drink or two, but he still wasn't proud of the fact it was something he required now, that it was the only thing that came close to washing away that bitter taste.
It had been a year since he'd lost everything he'd worked so hard for. A year since he'd lost friends, his city, and the thousands of innocent lives within it. But worst of all, he'd lost a significant piece of himself, and he blamed himself for all of it. All because of one night, one choice and her.
The thought of her was nearly enough to make him sick as he downed a sip of beer to try and flush her foul taste from his mouth. However, the cheap beer and whisky was not enough to drown out the bitterness—that rotten taste he could just never get off his tongue. It was like he'd unknowingly bitten into a spoiled piece of fruit, only to find its sweetness was replaced with decay and maggots. He could still feel the invasive parasites crawl beneath his skin every now and then. At just the right moment, with just the right touch, or the right set of words. The feeling always left him feeling dirty, and no matter how hard he scrubbed or scratched, her touch would never wash off him. He'd wear her mark for the rest of his life.
What was worse was that he'd never told anyone about what had happened to him; he himself had a hard time believing its validity. In his mind, he tried to tell himself that what he thought happened was nothing of the sort. That the trauma of watching a man die was the reason for his physical and mental discord. Or at least that's what she'd told him.
Still, it never mattered how many times he tried to talk himself down, or how many times he tried to tell himself that what happened, hadn't happened at all. He could still never get that bloody taste out his mouth. He could even taste it on the air.
"I would have never pegged you as the drinking alone type," he heard a familiar voice say.
He looked up to find a single blue eye staring down at him, her lily-white hair draped around her black leather jacket.
"Rose," he said in a genuine shock, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you with the Titans ?"
"Yeah, about that," she said, taking a seat next to him, "that wasn't exactly hooking up. So I'm currently between jobs right now."
"Okay," Dick replied perplexed, "then what are you doing here?" he asked, entertaining some guilt that she'd gone out on her own. He was after all her mentor.
She shrugged somberly. "Well, I just found out that the closest thing I had to a best friend died…"
"Eddie…" he said ruefully, recalling that Tim recounted the incident, but he hadn't mentioned that Rose left the team. "I'm sorry."
She gave him a weak smile and stole a sip of his beer. "Don't be. Eddie died a hero, and in my book, he couldn't have gone out like more of a badass." She paused a moment, clearly remembering her friend. If anything, she was sad for herself, but refused to admit it. A lot like him.
"But with that being said," she added, "I'm here to drink my feelings and have a meaningless hook-up… Care to help a girl out, Grayson?"
She smiled at him coyly. He'd like to have thought she was joking, but he knew she wasn't. If Rose Wilson was anything, she was brutally honest, and he respected that.
"I can help you with the first half of your missions of self-destruction, but you're on your own with the latter."
"Eh, it was worth a shot," she shrugged, "but it's your loss."
"Somehow I'll live."
Sadly enough, part of him wanted to take her up on her offer. The idea of losing himself in another for a few hours was a tempting way to momentarily ease him of his current torment. However, he knew once the sheets were dirtied and the sweat was dried, he'd be right back where he began. Rose was also a little too young for him, and he didn't feel like adding statutory to his already stained morality. Though it seemed to be the least of her worries. But if nothing else, she'd make good company for his misery.
He ordered her a drink, mostly because he knew that if he didn't, she'd find someone else who would. And he'd have much rather been the man feeding her alcohol than one of the many seedy low-lives who'd jump at the chance to hinder the autonomy of a pretty 17-year-old girl. Not that Dick worried about Rose's ability to take care of herself. He knew she was more than capable, but if breaking one rule prevented her from making a horrible mistake, then he didn't see the harm in it.
The two sipped their beers and talked about their losses and gains. Though somehow they felt their losses were what made them who they were.
Dick took notice at how much Rose had matured, she'd oddly grown up a lot in the past year. She was still very much the same: Hot-headed and unpredictable, but she'd begun to understand how to use those things to her advantage. Dick couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. At least he'd done something right.
They both finished their drinks, and when Dick glanced up to the bar to get a second round, he froze.
It's never gonna stop...
Rose noticed his sudden shift, his face paused, his eyes staring blankly ahead.
"You okay?"
He snapped out of it and looked at her. "I have to go."
He took out his wallet and threw a couple bills down on the table, hurrying himself to leave. But it was too late, she saw him.
She stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to fix her drink. She looked like she were dressed for a funeral, as though she were burying her third husband. Her black dress was low, showing off the prominent curves of her breasts, her lips painted red, like they were stained with his blood. But it didn't matter how pretty she looked. For beneath that low black dress and behind that lipstick smile she flashed at him, he could see just how ugly she truly was.
Suddenly it was like the world stopped turning and the ground fell from beneath his feet. He was back in that moment again, like the scar had been ripped open with a dull knife, the blade delving deep into his dignity.
It's never gonna stop...
"Dick?" He could hear Rose's voice, distant, like she were 100 miles away. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know..."
He took off, practically running out the door, pushing past the crowd of people until he was out in the pouring rain. It was as though he couldn't breathe, like his lungs had filled with a toxic smoke, smothering him in with past he just couldn't shake. He could feel the rain hitting his face, a sensation he'd once found clean and refreshing, only now it felt like an affliction, like a cancer burning into his skin. Convicting him with the sins he'd committed, and the ones committed against him.
Rose had immediately run after him, knowing something was deeply wrong.
"Dick! Dick, wait!" Rose called, her platinum hair looking grey beneath the foggy rain. "Are you okay—what happened?"
He didn't stop, he just kept moving, not sure what to say. "I just need to go home, Rose."
It was a terrible excuse, but it was the best he could come up with. Plus, what could he really say? He couldn't even admit the truth to himself, never mind a teenage girl who held him in such high standing.
"It's okay, you can tell me," she urged, but he still wouldn't stop. "It was that girl, wasn't it?"
He stopped. The rain beating down on him like it had in that very night a your ago.
"She did something to you, didn't she?"
He turned, at a loss, not even sure what to say, but before he could speak, he saw her again.
She'd stepped out of the bar, just under the overhang, looking out at him through falling sky. He stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to show her how badly he hurt. How deeply that scar through his heart ran. But another part of him was still too afraid to even look her in the eye. For a moment he thought she'd try and approach him, but she didn't, and at first, he couldn't understand why. Then it hit him. And no, it had nothing to do with melting Wicked Witch of the West style.
Rose...
She had now locked her eyes on the woman beneath the overhang, keeping herself from the damp air.
Dick wasn't sure what would come next. Part of him wondered if Rose would, well, pull a Rose and throw a right hook across Catalina's face. Or if Catalina would say something in an attempt to dismiss the younger girl. Something he knew wouldn't go over well.
However, Rose surprised him. She turned her scowling face away from the woman in black and walked toward Dick.
"Come on," she said over the percussion of rain. "This place will let anyone in, we're better off at your place."
The whole speech was a jab at Catalina. She didn't need her mentor to tell her anything, she already knew. Like she could smell that primal fear radiating off him, or possibly even something about the way that woman looked at him. Her smile gilded with something predatory, hungry for self-satisfaction and the taste of blood on her tongue.
Rose took him by the arm and led him away, the rain still pouring down around them. It's humid smell rising from the flooded pavement beneath his feet. Dick could still feel her eyes on him, a feeling of shame ricocheting down his spine as he was whisked away by his own protégé, the old one merely watching as she did so. He'd faced murderous mad men, violent Metahumans, and bloodthirsty demons, but somehow, a simple human woman was the greatest monster he'd ever faced. A woman he could have easily overpowered, yet somehow couldn't. The thought left a deep wound in his masculinity, like he failed as a man, like maybe he'd let it happen. These poisonous thoughts were something he'd become accustomed to ever since Catalina had taken matters into her own hands.
By the time they made it back to Dick's apartment, they were both soaked to the bone. He could feel the filthy rain collecting along his jaw and dripping heavily from his chin as he unlocked the door. Rose noticed his hands were shaking and he cursed at himself as he struggled to steady them. He finally got the key into the lock and turned it, looking around before entering the safety of his home. They entered the reasonably sized studio apartment, and Dick flicked on the light. He closed the door behind them, locking the knob, deadbolt, and key chain. Rose, of course, thought it was a bit overkill, but given his reaction to the woman at the bar, she'd have done the same thing.
"She's really got you on edge," Rose said, pulling off her soggy coat. "Who is she?"
"No one."
"Well, then she's a whole lot of no one ." Rose grimaced. "I'm sensing "They're Not Horses, They're dead Unicorns," vibe?"
"Something like that…" he sighed, wiping the rain from his brow, "only in the darkest context possible."
"What do you think she wants?"
He looked up at her. He hadn't really thought of that. It had been a year since he'd seen her last, since he just walked away and never looked back. She got what she wanted, why would she come back now?
"Fuck," he huffed blankly and sat down. His mind digging up an old thought he'd once had, one he prayed wouldn't come to fruition.
Rose could see the lost look in his eyes and the disparity quaking in the space where his heart used to be. This was nothing new to her. Whatever he lost, he'd lost it before they'd met. Only now she was beginning to understand what that was. She could now see just where that jaded and cynical nature came from, exactly what cracks left him shattered. Unlike many, she was actually about to see exactly what slipped through those cracks, exactly what had been taken away from him.
"I take it whatever she did to you, you're not over it?"
He looked at her with an ill expression and ran his hand through the fringe of his damp hair. "I don't know if I'll ever be over it," he said ruefully. That was the closest he'd ever come to admitting it, to saying it aloud.
Rose looked down, that was all she needed to hear. He didn't need to say more.
"I'm sorry that happened to you."
He glanced up at her and smiled at a loss, but also for the fact that she didn't laugh at him, that she didn't seem to judge him for it. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admitted. "Some days I can live it, then come days like this, where I can barely get my shit together."
She could understand that feeling, knowing how it felt to want to shed the scars that bind you, only you can't help but be who they've made you.
"You can talk about it if you want."
"Thanks," he said, and smiled falsely, "but talking about it is something I'm still not quite able to do." He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, like it were they that had betrayed him. "I just don't understand it completely. And honestly, I just wanna forget it ever happened."
"But your body won't let you."
He nodded painfully, almost feeling like he had to vomit. He had to change the subject. "Sorry I ruined your night."
Rose smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "No big deal, you probably saved me from making a poor life choice."
"That's probably true," he conceded with a nod.
"Yeah, seriously. Once my brain tastes alcohol it's like it's go time! Let's make some fucking mistakes! And see how quickly you can ruin the life you work so hard for..." she broke into a slight giggle. Rose was often amused with her on sense of humor.
Dick shook his head, well aware that Rose Wilson and alcohol were not meant to be in good company with each other. That girl could do a whole lot of damage and end up with one hell of a hangover. But he laughed anyway.
"But hey, now I can technically say I went home with Nightwing. I got braggin' rights now."
He shook his head at her shit-eating grin, realizing she'd probably use that to piss off daddy . It would also do little for either of their dwindling reputations, but he had bigger problems to worry about.
"I know you don't wanna talk about it, but I get the feeling you think she found you," Rose said. "Is she capable of that?"
Unfortunately enough, she was. She was an ex-FBI agent, after all. She probably knew exactly where he was this entire time and he never even thought to look behind him. But truth be told, he didn't want to know. It was easier if he didn't go looking for her in every shadow that haunted every corner.
"Yeah."
"Do you think she's been following you?"
He didn't want to think of that either, but he wouldn't put it past her. "Yeah, and it wouldn't be the first time."
"Jesus." Rose scowled. "When was the last time you saw her?"
"A year ago."
"So what's she doing, slinking up from Hell for some fresh air, thinking she'd just drop by, say hello?"
Dick grimaced. "I'm honestly really afraid to find out…" The look on his face hardened, consequence tying his tongue.
"Oh…" She paused a minute, thinking about how devastating that would be. To have something so heavy thrust upon you; forever tied to the person who'd already taken so much. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, and I really hate to say this, but there's no way she'd look like that if she'd dropped a fucking kid like three months ago."
Dick looked up at her. Only Rose would say something like that.
"I mean her tits would be like on the floor," she added crassly. "She could take a fucking eye out with those puppies, and I should know."
He glared at her, not sure whether to scowl or laugh. On one hand, her banter was oddly amusing, and on the other, he had a really hard time accepting humor in that moment. But maybe that was his problem.
"Rose, I know you're just trying to help, but if you could stop talking about how hot Catalina is, that would be great."
"Hey, I never said that walking gash was hot, I just said her fucking boobs could have their own gravitational pull," she corrected. "Life's not fucking fair, man," she added referring to her own humble cup size.
"Yeah, it's not," Dick accorded coldly, and he couldn't have agreed more.
His life had literally become one horrible montage of one bad thing after the next, and it all started the second she showed up. In the beginning, he actually felt guilty for feeling that way, like it was somehow unfair of him to blame her for things that came of his own volition. But with time, it simply just became part of his coping mechanism. Catalina equaled death, devastation and rape, and he just couldn't see past that. He liked to think if he'd just never met her, or if he'd just thrown her ass in jail when he had the chance, that everything would be different. Maybe nobody would have died, and that Blüdhaven would still be standing today.
What was worse, and the thing that ate at him the most, was that he'd willingly invited her into his life. He'd delivered himself like some naive lamb to slaughter because he'd actually once felt sorry for her. That's what it had always come down to. She had a shitty life, it wasn't her fault. If he had just been a better man, or a better mentor , she wouldn't have turned out like that. It didn't seem to matter that she was a grown woman and should have known better, he still made excuses for her. But now, he couldn't excuse that she was stained in his blood and the blood of others, and he couldn't do shit about it. Catalina was literally like a flesh-eating bacteria to him. A termite eating away at his body and soul.
"You've never actually confronted her, have you?" Rose asked, once again pulling him into the now.
He sighed and shook his head. "Not really—no. There was so much going on after it happened and I was still kinda in shock. She told me I wasn't thinking straight and that the trauma I'd experienced made me look at it that way. I believed her because I wanted to, but as the shock wore off and I began to see how far she'd burrowed into my life… I knew I was right."
He seethed a moment, that foul metallic taste overcoming his mouth.
"She was literally taking over my life, acting like she'd done nothing wrong—acting like she belonged with me. I couldn't take it, so I left."
"That's when you started mentoring me…" Rose said, having a rough idea of the timeline.
Dick looked up, it really was ironic. He'd been so badly burned by one protégé, and the other was the only thing keeping him from crawling out of skin.
"Yeah, you turned out fine, though."
"Yeah, because of you," Rose urged. She owed him everything. Without Dick Grayson, who knew where she'd be. "Without you, I could never be a hero."
He looked at her fondly, but he knew she didn't feel like one. He didn't feel like one either.
"Y'know," Rose began, "sometimes you gotta take your pound of flesh and just walk away."
"I'm really not one for revenge, Rose."
"I saw the way you looked at her, Dick," she said, sitting next to him, "like if you could kill her and get away with it, you would."
He didn't say anything, but that was exactly how he felt, only he knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix him.
He rose from the couch and walked to a drawer, he opened it and took out an old shirt, throwing it over to Rose.
"You should change out of those wet clothes. There's a laundry room downstairs if you wanna throw your stuff in the drier."
She caught the shirt and nodded. "Yeah, there's no way in Hell I'm leaving you alone tonight. Not with Psycho Bitch on the prowl."
He smiled. "Wanna order a pizza?"
"You paying?"
After that, the two talked about why Rose left the Titans, and why she felt she didn't really fit there. They talked about Eddie, and how Rose had asked him to leave with her. That was a little painful.
Rose asked how things with Barbara were going (they were supposed to get married, after all.) However, the answer was nowhere. Apparently Dick was having a hard time functioning in the relationship, specifically because Barbara was always so micro-focused on everything he did. From what she understood, that was nothing new. Barbara had a reputation for being a little unforgiving, especially when it came to Dick. And Rose could totally understand why he didn't feel comfortable opening up to her about what he'd been through. He wanted her to see him as strong and competent. He'd probably feared she'd think he were exaggerating, or scold him for being too trusting with Catalina in the first place. And though his fears weren't necessarily warranted, she understood why he felt that way. Nobody wants the love of their life to see them as damaged.
He apparently tried his hand at a few other relationships, but nothing really seemed to fit. Everything just seemed uncomfortable, and in some cases, much like with Barb, they just didn't have the patience for his newfound affliction. It's like everything just felt so disconnected.
His concept of touch was altered, and not the violent sort, the intimate kind. Little gestures made his stomach sink, especially if he wasn't expecting them. There were times when a woman he was deathly attracted to would lean in, and he'd pull away without a second thought. It had just become instinct. Even something as simple and comforting as a hug had become a perversion of itself. He hated how things of such simple kindness now held such rue and disdain. Things that once breathed of love and strength were now among the things he feared most. It was like the ties to his humanity were cut clean from his bones.
Dick looked at the time to find the hour was far beyond late, and he was beginning to feel it as well.
"I think I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You can take the bed."
Rose shook her head. "No, I'm good with the couch. Unless, you wanna share the bed with me," she said with a sly grin.
"No offense," Dick said, and smiled, "but I'd rather take the couch. Nice try, though."
"What can I say, I'm not a quitter."
"And I admire that, but you're off-limits."
She smirked at him, as if his comment gave her some vague validation. "Yeah, but if you change your mind, the offer's still on the table," she added mischievously. "But for real, I'll take the couch. You're much taller than me, it's not really fair to make you sleep on it."
"You're not making me, I'm offering."
"And much like my offer, I'm not taking yours."
"Okay, then," Dick said, picking up a pillow. "Oh, and Rose…"
She turned and looked over at him questionably.
"If you pull that shit you pulled on Tim, I'm gonna kick your ass."
He threw the pillow at her and she smiled, actually looking a little embarrassed.
"Um, I plead the fifth," she replied, catching it. "But, I will say that I was absolutely shit-canned that night and my crowning achievement of the evening was that I didn't die."
"Sounds like you made some fucking mistakes."
"Oh, you know it."
"Night, Rose," he said, crawling into bed.
"Night, Deathwing."
He rolled his eyes. "I hate that name."
"I know."
He didn't get much sleep that night. For even in the still silence, his brain would not shut off. His body desperately ached to shut itself off, but this primal force would not allow it. He lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling, shuffling through the thoughts and fears. Counting the losses, wondering if there was anything gained through any of it, but he just couldn't seem to find anything.
Rose was fast asleep, curled up in a ball on the couch. He took a deep breath, both out of loss and boredom.
He couldn't help but wonder where she was then, where'd she'd been. If she'd been there this entire time, and he just hadn't seen her until now. What did that say if she had?
He finally found the word that he'd been searching for. The word that best described the vile taste in his mouth. The one that brought validation to the feeling he'd been struck with when he'd noticed her dressed all in black.
"Violated," he whispered into the darkness. That's how he felt—how he'd felt ever since the moment she'd touched him. Everything she'd done after that, and even before, was a violation of his life, his morality, his body and above all—his sanity.
He wondered if she'd even seen it that way. If there was one thing wrong with Catalina, it was her moral compass, but he couldn't see that as an excuse any longer. He couldn't accept that she just didn't know any better. If anything, that made it worse.
When the morning finally came, Dick had managed to snag a few meager hours of sleep, but it was better than nothing. He got up, showered, and made some coffee, the smell rousing Rose from what he could only describe as a near coma.
Lucky little bitch.
She stretched out on the couch like a lazy house cat who wanted her belly rubbed, but she wasn't so lucky.
"It lives," Dick said, bringing her a cup of much-needed coffee.
She smiled tiredly, sleep fresh in her eye. "Yeah, there were a few hours there where my soul was like, I should probably go …"
"Well, then consider this coffee the rejection notice to your DNR."
She took the mug and thanked him, taking a generous sip.
"So where you off to from here?" he asked, heading back behind the counter.
She shrugged. "Not sure yet. I'll probably just wander around until something sticks."
"And what if it doesn't?"
"Then I'll revise the game plan," she replied flatly. "Or maybe retire to Florida and die."
"You're kinda young for that," he laughed.
"When has age ever stopped me?"
He raised a brow. "Good point."
"What about you?" she asked. "What's next for Nightwing? "
"Breakfast." He took a carton of eggs from the fridge and a package of bacon. "You like bacon, right?"
"Uh, yeah," she replied, stretching again. "Anyone who doesn't can't be trusted."
"That's what I like to hear. Eggs scrambled?"
"Sure," she laughed, rising from the couch and leaning against the counter.
He noticed the shit eating grin on her face, he had to ask. "What's so funny?"
"Um, I'm wearing your T-shirt and you're making me breakfast, and the best part is, I didn't even have to blow you."
God, she has no filter, he thought. If that was her way of flirting, then at least one would always know where they stood with her.
"Well, I hate to ruin your little school girl fantasy, but would you mind beating the eggs?" he said, handing her a bowl and a whisk.
She smirked and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off at the pass. "And do not say what I know you're about to say."
"Oh you're no fun—I'm only kidding."
He laughed. "Rose, we both know you're not kidding."
She smiled coyly. "Guilty, but what do you want from me? At least I'm fun—unlike Kara. Now that girl's got a serious problem. You should see her Pinterest page. It's fucking creepy, and so is Cassie's…"
"I don't even understand what Pinterest is."
"Keep it that way, I wish I had. Girls get uber creepy on Pinterest." Rose paused a moment. "Speaking of creepy. I can only imagine what Cuntberry's Pinterest page looks like."
"Now I'm really happy I don't know what Pinterest is."
They went on to make breakfast and eat, continuing their banter, going on about old teammates and who was where. Dick offered to clean up while Rose took a shower, not that she needed an excuse to skip out on the cleanup. When she was done, she got dressed and ready to head out.
"You need anything," he asked, walking her out of the building, "like money or—"
"Thanks," she said, cutting him off, "but I'm good. Plus with a face like this, free alcohol won't be in short supply."
"I meant like... for food and a place to stay." He scowled playfully.
"I'm fine, my mom left me some money. So I'll be good until I figure out what the hell I'm doing."
"Well, I think you should go back to school."
"I have my GED, that's fine."
"A degree would better," he replied, pushing the door open. "You're a smart girl, it would be a shame to waste that."
"That coming from the boy who dropped out of Hudson University ... and became a cop."
"Hey, I got great benefits with that job."
"Yeah, 'cause being a trust fund brat doesn't pay, right?"
He pushed her playfully, and she punched his arm. "Ah," he whimpered, forgetting how strong she was. "So violent."
"Like you can't take it," she said, stepping out on the sidewalk. "So I guess this is me…"
He shrugged looking back at her and stepped out the door. "So where you staying?"
"Shitty motel, other side of town."
"Sounds swanky."
"It's kinda charming… if you like crime scene tape, the smell of burnt cigarette ash and a gratuitous amount of prostitution."
"Sounds a lot like your childhood."
She burst out laughing as if she didn't laugh she'd cry. "Sadly true. Lord only knows the damage I've suffered at the hands of my parents."
He smiled, reaching into his pocket, and took something out. "Here," he said, holding a pre-pay phone. "My number's already programmed in it. If you need anything, let me know."
She smiled gratefully and took the device. "Does that also include—" she began mischievously, until Dick stopped her.
"3am booty calls—no."
"Damn," she sighed. "Worth a shot though. And thank you… for putting up with me and my nonsense."
"Well, your nonsense actually helped me get through a pretty tough night so… thank you."
"Well, if you need anything, I'll probably be around later."
"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled.
She began to turn, but stopped and turned back to him. "Y'know how you're always telling me to not be so hard on myself and that I shouldn't be dwelling on the past because I can't change it and all that shit?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, vaguely."
"You should do the same," she replied. "You can't change what happened, but you can be stronger for it."
He looked at her a moment. She may not have been without her faults, but she really did possess a heart of gold. And he couldn't have been prouder of her.
He pulled her into a hug, slightly taking the girl by surprise, but she quickly relaxed into it.
"Thank you," he whispered. "It's nice to know I did something right."
She smiled against his shoulder. "You saw the good in me when I couldn't, I thought you deserved the same," she said, then finally pulled away. "Well this has officially gotten far too sappy for my liking. I'm off like a prom dress, Grayson."
"Bye, Rose!" He waved. "And be good!"
A smug expression fixed on her face. "I can make no such promise," she droned, "but for you, I'll try…"
He watched her leave, hoping she too, would find her place in the world. It would be a shame if she didn't. When she was gone, he turned to go back upstairs when a thought crossed his mind. A thought that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He looked around, it was like he could feel her , like he knew she was there, but he just couldn't see her.
I'm just being paranoid, he thought. I need to stop thinking about this.
He grudgingly shook off the feeling and headed back into his building. When he reached his apartment, he dug into his pocket, and his heart dropped.
"Damn it," he hissed, realizing he'd misplaced his key.
It wasn't really that big of a deal, he was more than capable of breaking into his own apartment. He just didn't really feel like doing it. He looked around, and noticed an old bobby pin lying on the floor, not far from where he stood.
"Perfect."
He picked up the pin and bent it back, he'd have the lock picked in no time. He placed his hand on the knob and inserted the pin, but before he could go to work on the lock, he realized the door was unlocked.
He froze. "No, it can't be…"
He turned the knob with an unsteady hand and slowly pushed the door open. He peeked his head in, looking around to see if anyone was there. He finally found the nerve to step inside. Part of him actually contemplating calling Rose and asking her to come back.
Fucking man up, Grayson , he thought, silently scolding himself, especially since a year prior this would have been nothing to him.
He looked around, nothing seemed to have been touched or out of place, everything was just the way he'd left it… except for one thing.
His eyes fell on his pillow; there was something lying there, something that just didn't belong. He approached his bed, slowly, readying himself for anything that came his way in that moment. Deep down, he hoped he was just over-exaggerating, that maybe Rose had left it there for him. But any hope of that was dashed when he peered down at the envelope and saw her handwriting, scratched across the white paper in red.
Mi Amor, it read as he picked it up, a vile mix of anger, fear, disgust and bitterness pressing into his flesh as he held it.
She was here…
His knees buckled and he collapsed, too overcome by the thought that she'd been in his home. That she could, and did, actually take that security away from him. How could she? Did she actually think this tactic was romantic? Or was this simply just a power play? How long had she been waiting for him to leave? She had to have been watching him.
He felt sick and threw the letter down, scrambling for the waste basket, his body violently purging the contents of his stomach. He dry heaved a few times, his breath tight, his heart pounding in his throat. His face was hot, everything was hot.
He tried to focus, and pull himself out his current state of duress. "Think of something else…"
But he couldn't. And the truth was, that was what she wanted. She didn't want any other thought to cross his mind, she wanted that space for herself. She wanted to consume him.
He sat there a while, forgetting about time, his mind just completely racing until it finally grew numb. Everything went numb.
He resented it—feeling like a victim, but he was one, and he hated her for it. He hated how weak he'd become and how easily he crumbled at the mere thought of her. He hated that she'd infiltrated him and festered in his mind. That she was the source of such rotten memories, each one decaying as he slept, the infection spreading through his consciousness and destroying his sanity cell by cell.
He looked down at his hands, flashing back to an image that had burned itself in his mind, one that made him recoil. He could see her face through the billowing shadows and the silver flecks of rain, her eyes cast down on him. Through the still frames, his quaking hand reached up to stop her, but failed to do so, his objection falling on not a deaf ear, but an ignorant one. He felt empty, like he'd died, his heart ceasing to beat, but somehow, left watching from his empty shell. Like a cage with a dead bird inside.
Now, in that very hand, he held the letter, nearly forgetting it was there. He didn't want to open it, he didn't care what she had to say, or how she felt, or how fucking crazy she was. None of that mattered, she'd already taken too much. She could kill him for all he cared, at least then it would be over.
He pulled himself together and tore the envelope open. He took out the piece of fine paper, a faint scent hitting him like a ghost he was far too familiar with. It was her perfume, an odious blend of mahogany and teakwood. It was slightly musky and wreaked of her cruel brand of femininity. The smell was enough to force his flesh to crawl, his hand aching as his eyes flashed with the loathsome image of her shadow in the rain.
He took a heavy breath and unfolded the note, the same red ink staining the purity of the pale page, his stony blue eyes growing grey as the storm rolled in.
To my dearest Amor, Mi Tesoro,
(And if that wasn't enough to induce vomiting...)
It's been far too long, I know. My time away from you has been nothing but agonizing. I tried—I really did—to stay away like you asked of me, but… I just couldn't. And to be honest, if I could find a way to tie you to me so that you'd never leave me again—I would. No one could ever love you the way I do, or as much as I do, Mi Amor.
As for the last time we saw each other, I forgive you. I know you were in a dark place then, and I'm hoping you'll let me help to ease that pain. I would die for you, I hope you know that.
I'm sorry to contact you like this, but I cannot stand the thought of you rejecting me in person—not again. I want to start over with you, I want things to be different between us. Please meet me tonight at the bar. After seeing you last night, I can't wait any longer. I don't know what I'll do if you don't show… Please just give me this one thing.
If for whatever reason you decide not to show, just know I love you with my dying breath, and know I always will…
Todo Mi Amor, Catalina
Her words read like sugar laced with cyanide, delusional and so far removed from the suffering she'd caused. Like she'd come back to rip what was left from his half-empty chest. The letter still hung in his hands, the red ink somehow disturbing to him. Granted, the whole gesture was disturbing to him. She'd violated his privacy, his home, his body, and written down every word of it as though it were love. And maybe it was-the deadly kind .
He looked again at that last line, those deathly sweet words bring him back to one moment.
It's never gonna stop…
And, indeed, it was never going to stop.
He buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, trapped in grief. He just didn't know what to do. He tried running off, he tried sending her away. He'd literally had her locked up and thrown away the key, and still, she somehow managed to slither her way out of that. What could he do now?
He finally removed himself from the floor and made sure every window and door was locked up tight. He immediately ripped off all his clothes and took another shower in a feverish, angry fashion, the water so hot it nearly blistered his skin, and remained that way until it finally ran numbingly cold. But he still felt dirty.
He got out of the shower and looked at his worn face in the mirror. He felt as though he'd aged about a thousand years, yet he was trapped in the body of a twenty-something year-old man. A shell of who he used to be. That foul taste still sour in his mouth, mixing with the sick taste of bile. If only she were like old gum to him, momentarily sweet, but tasteless, something he could spit out and forget. He did his best to brush away the putrid flavor, but like so many nights he'd endured, he just couldn't rid himself of her aftertaste.
He didn't bother getting dressed, he just crawled into bed and lay there, wishing he could sleep, but such a mercy was not granted to him. As the hours passed, he thought about the yesterdays: The long sleepless nights, the following days after Blockbuster's death and what came of it. Each frame passed by him like a fog, like ghosts without names, aimlessly moving through him. Their cold hands removing pieces of him and burying them beneath wilting flowers where they'd lie forgotten, rotting away into nothing.
After a few hours of silently wasting away, he looked at the time. It was a little after 5pm. He was hungry, but he didn't really care, mostly because it didn't matter what he ate, he'd still taste her.
His phone rang, startling him. He missed the days when he wasn't so jumpy. Now if someone so much as touched him, his skin would crawl. He didn't want to bother getting it, but knew if he didn't, it might raise some concerns on the other end. He just hoped it wasn't anything important. Or better yet, he hoped it wasn't her.
"Hello?"
"Hey," he heard Rose say, "whatcha up to?"
Lying in bed contemplating killing myself. "Nothing, thinking about making dinner. You?"
"Eating dinner, and binge-watching Dexter. "
"That sounds… like a weird combo…"
"Yeah, this show makes me hungry, as do most things, really."
Dick shook his head. She really did take after her uncle Wade.
"So did you just call to tell me about how watching a serial killer dismember other serial killers makes you wanna polish off a second plate of ribs, or did you actually need something?"
She giggled a moment, but then got back to the matter at hand. "No, I was calling to see how you were. Y'know, that whole song and dance…"
He smiled vaguely, but felt guilty. He didn't want to lie to her, but that was exactly what he was going to do.
"I'm fine, Rose. You don't need to worry about me," You have enough to worry about…
"You sound a little…" She paused, trying to find a delicate way to put it. "Y'know, like you're thinking of going down the street instead of across it." Well… delicate for her.
He sighed. "It's not like that."
It kind of was.
"Anything I missed?"
He looked down at the letter. "Nope, just still a little shaken from last night, that's all."
"Y'know, if you want me to, I can come over…"
Part of him really wanted the company, but the other part of him didn't want to drag her in any deeper than she was. "I'm fine, Rose. I'm still trying to figure shit out."
"I know," she replied. "I just know how hard it is when the very thing that emptied you is out there and you know it."
She may have been young, but she knew a lot about betrayal, abuse, and heartbreak. Though in Dick's case, heartbreak wasn't at all the right term. It was more like having his heart cut out.
"Do you think if I confronted her," Dick asked cautiously, "it would be a bad idea?"
There was a pause from Rose's end, and he could hear her breath hitch slightly. "No," she finally began, "I think if that's what you need to do, then you should do it." There was conviction in her voice. She understood all too well. "But Dick…"
"Yeah."
"If you do, just know that it will probably end badly. You never really know what you're capable of when someone who's hurt you that deeply is standing right there in front of you… You might not even know what she's capable of."
She wasn't wrong. Dick could think of one particular moment where he'd come dangerously close to bludgeoning Catalina to death. His outburst frightened him. He'd never before been that angry or volatile, and the fact was, in that moment, he wanted kill her.
Maybe I shouldn't go…
"But I understand that maybe you need to face her, let her see what she did to you. Let her know what will happen if she ever tries to do that to you again…"
He took a deep breath, he'd never really gotten the closure he needed. He was too wrapped up in everything else. Not to mention, part of him was still in denial, trying forget it ever happened. But it didn't matter how many times he told himself it was a simple "misunderstanding," or how many times he tried to chalk it up to guilt, it still happened, and it happened to him.
"So what do you have on the agenda tonight?"
He could hear Rose click her tongue, and she replied, "I was gonna polish off a third plate of ribs," she joked, "but if you have a suggestion, I might be down…"
"I was thinking of getting a drink… "
A few more hours had passed. Dick had gotten dressed and finally left his apartment, which took more effort than he liked to admit. However, it helped to know that he wasn't going into this situation blindly or alone.
The rain from the night before had dissipated, the air cool as the wind blew over his shoulder. The street was unusually quiet for once. It was peaceful, but unnerving, much like the past year. Hopefully that meant something—something good.
Each step took a little more persuasion than the last, each muscle recalling the touch of her cold hands, the stink of the rain and emptiness that followed all of it. The only thing that drove him was the notion that this might lead to the end. That whatever followed tonight was for the better. He just hoped, silently prayed it was true.
He finally approached the bar, and that uncomfortable feeling grew tighter in chest. It reminded him of how he felt after he'd lost his parents. The loss and uncertainty colliding together like the harsh winds and rains of a hurricane, leaving a lifetime of devastation in its wake.
He paused when he got to the door. Part of him wanted to turn away and just forget about the whole thing. However, he wasn't sure what would happen in the fallout if he did. He took another deep breath, and pulled the door open. The bar wasn't overly crowded, unlike the night before. The table by the window was open, and he sat himself down like he'd never left. He looked around, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings. Rose was already sitting in the back corner, polishing off what looked like a Mai Ti, the poor guy next to her probably striking out. She glanced over at Dick with a sly grin, and bit into the cherry left in the boozy remnants of her drink.
Yeah, the poor bastard's not getting very far with her.
Dick looked around. Catalina was nowhere to be found, and part of him hoped it would stay that way. But he knew he wouldn't be so lucky, she'd show eventually, and if she didn't, he didn't even want know what would happen then.
A period of ten, then twenty minutes went by. Rose was already finishing her second drink and chewing through her second guy, while Dick hadn't even taken a sip of his beer. He heard the door open and he looked up, a cold wash of fear running straight through his veins. She looked over at him and smiled, disturbingly, as if nothing were amiss. Like she couldn't even see that he was practically crawling out of his skin.
She went straight to the bar, happily flirting with the bartender who remembered her. He fixed her a glass of red wine and poured a few fingers of whisky. The whole time Dick glared at her, noticing her lip color was the same, her frame now covered in a form fitted black coat. He heard his phone vibrate, and quickly checked it.
Rose: Something tells me Tits has your whole funeral planned out on Pinterest.
He shook his head and replied: Seriously, she looks like she's dressed for the occasion too!
"What's so funny?" he heard, and looked up. There she was.
She set down her wine and pulled out her chair, placing the whisky in front of Dick.
"I thought you could use this," she said, pulling off her coat and sitting down.
"I think I'm good," Dick replied, pushing it away. "I remember the last time I accepted a drink from you."
She was still wearing black, this dress being a little different from the last, but cut just as low and shamefully short. Once again, she looked like some rich trophy wife burying the husband she killed.
"So you do blame me for that ?"
"You got me shit-faced and tried to make me marry you," Dick scowled, "how is that not your fault?"
Catalina smiled as if nothing were wrong. "I didn't come here to argue, Mi Amor, I—"
"DON'T, call me that ," Dick snapped angrily.
She glared at him, nearly speechless. "I've always called you that—"
"Well, I don't want you to," Dick growled. "I never did."
"Like I said," Catalina continued cautiously, "I didn't come here to argue, I came here to talk."
"You have five minutes and that's all you're getting from me."
She lifted her wine and fraughtly sipped it. "So I see you're still upset with me."
"You could call it that, yeah."
"I thought giving you time would help, I guess I was wrong." She peered down at the drink she'd bought him, still untouched. "You're really not gonna drink that?"
"No," Dick replied coldly, "I don't want anything from you."
She looked back at him, insulted. "I didn't know what I was doing then, okay? I was just as lost as you were."
"Really, because it felt like you were leading the way. Leading me right off a damn cliff."
"Because you let me," she asserted. "You did the moment you got out of my way."
His stare hardened, and for a moment, he almost saw red. "You bitch," he hissed. "You still want me to believe that it was my fault . You still want me to feel guilty for what you did."
"I did what needed to be done." She lifted her glass again. "I did what you couldn't."
"Because it was wrong. "
"Sometimes a little wrong can serve a great right." She smiled at him, like she didn't feel anything. "I know you have a hard time seeing that, it's why I did what I did. So you didn't have to."
"So what, you want me to thank you?" Dick asked bitterly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Because if I thank you, then I own it, right?"
"No," she replied with a chill, and placed her glass on the table. "I wanna know it was worth it."
"I've given you enough, I'm not giving you that too."
"You really believe that?" she asked, wounded. "You haven't given me nearly what I've given you."
Dick laughed patronizingly. "You're a liar. The only thing you have ever done is take, Catalina. And I don't know what else you want from me, but I have nothing left for you to take."
Her face softened, but he wasn't sure why. "I don't know what you mean… but heartbreak can bring out the ugliness in all of us."
He thought he was going to lose it.
"Heartbreak?" he questioned. "Fucking heartbreak!"
"Keep your voice down, people can hear yo—"
"No, Cat," he declared, leering at her, "you didn't break my heart, you ATE it. That way I could never get it back!"
She grimaced. "I don't understand where this is coming from, Mi Amor. I would never intentionally hurt you like tha—"
His hand fell on the table with a slamming percussion. "Then why did you fucking rape me, Cat?" Dick hissed, so that only Catalina could hear him.
Her brow creased as she leaned in. "What the hell…" She was speechless, a little taken back. "What are you even talking about? I would never do such a thing to you..."
"The rooftop, Cat! What, you don't remember? Was me telling you not to touch me just a minor inconvenient detail to you?"
"We went over this," she reasoned, hushed, "you were in shock, you didn't know what you were saying—"
"Then why the hell would you think it'd be a good idea to fuck me then?"
"There is no need to be vulgar. I—"
"Vulgar," Dick laughed. "I'm sorry my choice of words is making you uncomfortable—I mean you raped me, so I guess I owe you some sense of decency, right?"
"Stop saying that—it didn't happen like that."
"Yes, it did," he insisted. "You fucking raped me and you do it every time you sit there and act as if you're entitled to a part of me—to a part of my life . Or when you act like it's me—like I'm the one with the problem!"
"Because all I've ever done is love you and you've given me nothing!" she spat, her face beaming red.
"So you fucking took it, you bitch," he seethed, his voice poisonous.
"You never appreciated anything I did for you," she hissed. "I almost spent my entire life behind bars for you!"
"For what you did, in my name," Dick corrected. "How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"
"Loved," she replied with a warning, like it was some end all-be all. "I did it because I love you, because I saw how much you needed me, how much you needed me to do that for you . And you let me. Tell me that isn't love ."
He was honestly frightened. He could see that deep in her eyes she believed what she was saying. That she thought by killing Blockbuster, it would make him love her, but it didn't. It only pushed him away, and she couldn't let go of that.
"You need help."
"I need you," she countered. "I love you more than anything, and I can't live without you ."
"Is that supposed to scare me?" Dick asked. "Because I'm not falling for it, not this time."
"So what? Blockbuster's death is a stain on your conscience, but my life, what—not so much?"
Dick looked away from her, he knew she would probably play this card. The truth was, he would care if she did something to hurt herself, especially to spite him—it terrified him, in fact. But if he played into it, she'd win, and he'd never be free of her.
"No, of course I'd care, but if you really loved me, you wouldn't leave me with that guilt. That would destroy me, and you know that. How is that love?"
He could see her blood practically boiling. He had her cornered logically, she wasn't getting out of this one.
Lucky for her, she didn't have to. The bartender approached them, standing behind Cat and looking at Dick as if he were the bad guy.
"If there's a problem here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," he said, obviously addressing Dick.
He looked over to the man, he was just doing what he thought was right, rescuing the damsel. Dick would have done the same if he didn't know any better. But still, it made him sick that everyone would assume she was the victim—that she actually thought and acted like the victim.
Dick pushed out his chair when Catalina turned and raised her hand.
"There's no problem here," she said calmly, "this is just a simple misunderstanding ."
She looked over at Dick, she wanted him to agree. Only he wasn't interested in doing what she wanted—not anymore.
"It's okay," he said, letting his eyes drift down to Catalina, "I was getting ready to leave, anyway."
The Bartender looked over at Dick as though he were one lucky son of a bitch, and smiled at the Catalina. "Well if you need anything, just let me know."
Yeah, wait till she bites your apple, hero, Dick thought a little bitterly as the man walked back over to the bar, his eyes still trained on Dick like a hawk.
Dick began to rise from the table, but the black widow protested. "We're not done here."
Dick looked back at her warningly. "I am."
She sneered from across the table and stood up as if to block his exit.
"Well I'm not."
Dick looked back at her, a little intimidated, not so much for the fact that she was standing in his way, but for the fact that if he even touched her he'd probably get his ass thrown in jail, and she knew that.
He peered over her shoulder to see Rose stand up, ready to kick "Tits" into next Tuesday if need be. Dick looked back at her, visually telling her to stand down. He couldn't allow her to take the fall for him—as much as she wanted to.
Catalina noticed his line of sight and looked behind her, a thick scowl casting over any beauty left on her face. She trained her sight back on Dick, the scowl taking on a mocking expression.
"What? Not man enough to face me without your little pet ? Nice, Dick."
Like she had any right to talk about pride or strength. She didn't know the first thing about being strong or brave. He needed to let her know that.
"You're the one who's jealous of a 17-year-old girl, but if you really must know, she replaced you, and she's ten times the hero you could ever dream of being, Catalina. You'll never be anything to anyone."
Out of anything he said, that seemed to hit her the hardest, but he wasn't sure why. Was it because he'd replaced her, or was it because he valued the replacement more than her? Or was it because he took away her validation as a hero?
She looked down bitterly, and made a fist. "Fine," she growled, "if that's how you feel, fine! But this isn't over…"
He didn't like the way she said that, but regardless, he let her continue.
"…Not by a long shot," she continued harshly. "So when you're done playing with little girls , I'll be waiting."
She leaned in as if she were going to kiss him, his lips hardened and cold, but she only smiled mockingly, hoping whatever stains she'd left on his soul would fester one last time. She placed her fist in his hand, her smirk deepening, feeling him writhe at the contact, but he still held his ground. He felt a small piece of paper fall into his palm and she closed his fist around it, holding her hands around his. He knew she was aware that he could do nothing, that's why she was doing it. He leered at her with a burning hatred, but that was all he could do. For now.
"Until then, Mi Amor."
He watched her walk out the door, the bartender still glaring at him. He wanted him out, and Dick was happy to oblige.
Rose finally moved from her corner, trying to mask the fact she was nervous for him, but covered it smugly.
"Ready to go?" she asked, and he nodded.
Within moments, the two were nearly out the door, but not before one last outburst.
"Wait," the frat boy who'd bought Rose a few drinks said, "you're going home with him? He didn't even buy you a drink!"
Rose looked back at the guy like he were wearing a helmet or something. "Yeah, last time I checked, buying a girl a few drinks was about as binding as a pinky swear. Stop acting like you bought me a lobster."
Dick shrugged at the guy, as did the bartender. Yeah, it sucked, but hey, home girl owed him nothing.
"Ready to go, Rose?"
"Like a prom dress."
And with a roll of the bartender's eye, they left.
They walked outside, the wind blowing a little harsher now. The sky above was clear, the stars managing to shine over the cityscape despite its dull radiance lifting into the air.
Dick admittedly felt a little freer, like some of the weight he'd been shouldering was alleviated, the space in his chest aching less. He'd said everything he needed to say to her, even if she wouldn't own up to any of it. He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd never acknowledge her wrongdoings, but it would have helped if she had. He may have even held some hope for her, but he knew now he should have never placed such a fragile thing in her hands to begin with.
"So was it worth it?" Rose finally asked, uncertainty bleeding from her eye.
Dick took a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm not fixed, but I'm better. And that's a good start."
Rose smiled weakly at him, she knew what it was like to feel that way. Just always short of whole.
"Yeah, it gets better with time."
Dick shuddered at the thought. Time was something that had become unbearable to him, to think it could actually help mend his wounds, seemed a little deceptive.
"I hope you're right." He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder blade, guiding her down the street. "Thanks again. I don't know if I could have faced her without someone I trusted to back me up."
Rose smiled coyly. "You trust me?"
"Yeah," Dick said, and looked at her oddly. "I wouldn't have pushed for you to be a Titan if I didn't. What makes you think I don't?"
Her eyes fell on the ground. "Cause no one really does. Eddie did, but he's gone now. You just never really said it, so… I don't know—I guess I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't…"
He stopped and turned to face her. "Trust is something that you shouldn't have to say out loud, Rose, it's just something you feel. I trust you because at the end of the day you wear your heart on your sleeve and you don't bullshit anyone. I know you think you're not a good person, but you are, and deep down, you just want people to see that. You're a hero because you want to be a better person, and when you help people, you do it because it's right, not because you're looking for a favor, or to be favored."
"That's because you haven't received my bill yet, Grayson. You've racked up quite the tab, too," she joked, trying to get the focus off of her. "I'm kidding, by the way."
"I know. Humor is how you deal with crazy shit, it's that or anger. I'm glad you're turning to the former."
"I learned that from you," she said softly. "I saw how much you were hurting, yet you still found a way to make light of everything. I thought I'd give it a try."
"I'm glad you did."
They reached her Harley and she turned to her mentor with a sentimental half-smile. "Well, it's been real, but like every great adventure, my time here has come to an end."
"Yeah, I'm really gonna miss you. I'm shocked you haven't made a sexual innuendo all night."
"Well, it didn't seem appropriate given the circumstances, but, I found out the age of consent is 16 in the state of New Jersey… So y'know, if you wanna make out with me before I ride off into the horizon, I'd be cool with that."
Dick smiled and shook his head. "I'm aware what the legal age of consent is, and no, no offense."
"You and your morality, Grayson," she said, picking up her helmet. "Maybe I'll have more luck with your brother."
"My brother?"
"You know, the guy with the red helmet, what's his name?"
"Oh… Jason," Dick said, less than enthused, "he comes with a lot of baggage."
"And you don't?"
"Touché."
"Well, I'm gonna head off now," Rose laughed. "No more psycho stalkers, okay?"
"I'll do my best," he said with a smile. "No more letting creepy guys buy you drinks."
"I let you buy me drinks."
He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Please take care of yourself, Rose."
She looked up at him and nodded. "I will, I promise… Deathwing."
"Okay, now get the hell out of my city and stop calling me that."
As he watched her go, he realized he finally understood. Understood why Catalina, a self-centered, ego-driven narcissist wanted to be a hero. It had nothing to do with helping humanity, or even making one life better. She had no need for that, it was all about power. Everything she did, every move she made was self-serving or a display of dominance. Killing Blockbuster, that was simply her playing God, forcing herself on Dick; that was taking what she wanted, but couldn't have, and she'd just reminded him of that. She couldn't leave him until she'd had the last word, till she'd sunk her fangs in him one last time to poison him. She just had to take away his power. Well, not anymore. If she wanted to act like an insect, he'd just have to crush her like one.
She waited, a glass of wine in her hand. She took as sip and looked down at her phone, recollecting the call she'd received. She was a bit shaken when she heard his voice, her heart teetering on its tipping point. He told her he was too rash, that he let his anger get the better of him, but he was ready to talk now. Ready to hear what she had to say. That he couldn't wait. She'd smiled at that, she knew he'd come around, he always did.
Without a second thought, she gave him her address and invited him over, telling him she would make it all better and left him with that.
She took another sip, her anticipation pumping through her veins, the heat of the wine mingling with her blood. She'd been waiting an hour, though it felt like a decade, but that hour was nothing compared to the lifetime she'd spent waiting for him.
A knock rapped at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched and she placed her glass down on the table and went to the door, taking a moment to check her makeup and fix her dress. She composed herself, taking a moment to quell her near giddiness. She finally opened the door, doing her best to display her most convincing bedroom eyes and found him in their fabled stare.
"Mi Tesoro," she said, sickeningly sweet, "I knew you'd come."
He smiled at her subtly. "You gonna invite me in?"
"Oh, of course, Mi Amor," she said huskily, "you're always welcome."
She shifted out of his way and he stepped inside. He took a quick look around. Her apartment wasn't big, but none of them were in that neighborhood. He should know—it was his neighborhood, after all.
"So tell me, darling," she began, closing the door, the faint click of the lock following, "why the sudden change of heart?"
He looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "You were right, I was just upset. I wasn't being fair to you… I'm sorry ."
She smiled, flashing a hint of victory. "I forgive you," she said, walking toward her prize. "Now why don't you let me heal you, Mi Amor." She placed her hands on his chest, a sinful look in her eye. "I promise, baby, I'm gonna take good care of you now."
He brought his hands to her face and smiled, cradling it as she closed her eyes, leaning in to seal her prey's fate. Only Dick had other plans.
His hand slid to the back of her neck and his face hardened to stone. His grip on her became cold and tight as he suddenly conjured an unnecessary amount of strength. Channeling every ounce of hatred, every violation, and every last bit of fear he held for her. He threw her, face first, into the high table beside them. She collided with the object with a violent force, the tempered glass surface cracking, and her wine glass shattering as it hit the the tile. She collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from her nose and into her mouth. She lifted her head, her body still in shock, as a rough hand tangled itself in her hair and pulled her motionless body around to face him.
He knelt down, hovering over her with an infuriated look in his eyes. She tried to look away from him, but he gripped her jaw and forced her to stare in his direction. She was going to hear this, whether she wanted to or not.
"If you so much as cast a shadow in my fucking direction, I will finish this job," he growled in a low voice. "As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me, Catalina—and I never wanna see your fucking face again! Got it?!"
She whimpered a little and nodded, but refused to cry in front of him, as though she could keep some sense of dignity if she didn't.
"Bitch," he huffed in her face, a faint spray of saliva hitting her cheek with a hateful breath.
He released her heartlessly and got up, storming out of her apartment as quickly as he'd struck her. She heard the door slam shut, cutting the last tie left between them. She flinched at the sound, like it hurt, and began to cry. She was finally afraid of him; she didn't have any power left to play. She had lost him, for good this time.
Dick threw on his hood, stepping out onto the street and into the cool night air. The wind had subsided and for the first time in a year, he felt his stomach calm. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder anymore. The bleeding in his chest had finally quelled.
He couldn't change what had happened to him, and he couldn't change what happened in the wake of it all. But he could change who he became as a result of it all. He knew he wouldn't be cured overnight, but he knew, in time, he'd be fine again. He could move on now. He could finally breach the surface and breathe—he could live. And for that, he could find enough strength to embrace the tomorrows and move out of the yesterdays.
The air somehow smelled sweeter—cleaner, even. Like the smoke had lifted, and the fires burned out, no longer hindering his senses. He could see beyond the rubble to a path beyond the ruins. He took a deep breath, taking the cold air in like it was the first time he'd ever done so.
Clarity, he thought, feeling the ground beneath his feet again, the world indeed still there. He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't waiting for some unspeakable thing to pull him into its undertaking. No. For the first time in so long, he was free of her. Free from her hold and presence, and more importantly, free of her memory.
He couldn't taste her anymore.
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Text
Tom Wilson - I’d Never Hurt You
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summary: Tom meets your parents for the first time and your mom says something that really gets to him.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: mentions of fighting and blood
----
You sat in the Verizon center, nervous as always, but this time it wasn’t in anticipation of the game. Instead, it was the two people sitting beside you causing your nerves. You wondered how Tom would react to your parents being here. He had expressed nervousness around meeting them before, and you didn't know how happy he'd be without advanced notice. You would have let him know, had it not been a surprise to you too; you tried to call and text, but Tom always turned his phone off hours before every game to eliminate distractions.
The game was against the Penguins, a big rival of ours and you knew it was going to be a good one. You prayed for a win not wanting Tom to be in a bad mood when he met your parents for the first time.
Your parents decided to go and buy their beers and snacks during warmups. You cheered as the caps took the ice, and your eyes immediately found Tom and stayed glued to him. You loved seeing him warm up and mess around with Oshie and Burakovsky- you just loved to see him having fun before he got into game-mode. He skated by and his eyes caught yours. He sent a wave and a big, cheesy smile your way, giving you butterflies. He still had the same effect on you that he did the day you two met.
The game started and right away you could tell it was going to be intense and physical.
It was the end of the third, the game was tied 2-2. Tom was out on the edge of the face off dot closest to you, and he and Jamie Oleksiak were going back and forth. They roughly elbowed each other, causing the ref to give them a warning. The warning didn't help. The puck was dropped and so were Tom's and Ian’s gloves. Oh no.
The crowd was on their feet as the two went at it. It was one of the toughest fights you had seen Tom in since you two had started dating. The helmets were knocked off and punches were flying. Had you not been sitting next to my parents, you would have been standing along with all the other fans. You looked over at your mom to see her jaw clenched. This was not going to go over well, you knew that much. Your mom hated fighting. In fact, she didn't really like hockey in general, and you could tell she was not pleased and judging everything.
Tom ended up winning the fight, though you didn't know how much of a win it was, seeing as he was left with blood trickling down his face. You watched as he skated off the ice, licking some blood that had dripped down to his top lip. Somehow he still managed to look attractive, You would have been able to appreciate that more if you were sitting with your parents. There were three minutes left in the game so Tom wouldn't be coming back.
The game ended with a caps win, which you feared would be the only good thing to come of this night. You lead your parents down to where you always waited for Tom after his games. In the elevator you could feel your mom’s eyes boring into you but you kept your eyes on the screen which showed the changing floors.
“Kid’s a helluva fighter,” your dad broke the silence. You couldn’t help but grin to yourself at his comment, but your mom was not so pleased.
“Jim,” she warned.
The elevator finally dinged and you were the first out of the doors. You introduced your parents to Brandi Holtby and Lauren Oshie.
“I hope everything is okay with Tom,” Lauren pulled you aside. You had been so caught up in your parents to even wonder or worry about Tom.
“Thanks Laur,” You smiled.
The locker room doors opened and a couple players emerged, Andre Burakovsky among them.
“Hey Caroline,” he smiled, walking over to you. Because he was Tom’s best friend on the team, you had become pretty close with him.
“Hey Andre, good game. These are my parents, Jim and Rose,” You turned to your parents, “guys, this is Andre,” you introduced.
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Andre said in his strong swedish accent, extending his hand. Your parents exchanged pleasantries with him as you watched the door anxiously. You saw that Lauren, who had been joined by TJ, was waving you over. Your parents were busy talking to Andre so you walked over.
“Tom’s okay, had to get a couple stitches on his forehead and now he’s just getting showered and dressed,” TJ explained. You let out a sigh of relief.
“Thanks TJ, nice goal by the way,” You said
“Thanks,” he smiled.
You walked back over to find your mom fawning over Andre.
“Well, I should get going,” Andre said
“It was wonderful meeting you Andre,” your mom said
“You too! Have a good night,” Andre said. You gave him a quick hug goodbye.
Finally, Tom came out of the locker room. He looked handsome; freshly showered in his perfectly tailored suit with a couple small bandaged just above his eyebrow. He smiled when he saw you and quickly walked over, pulling you into a hug.
“Great game,” You said into his shoulder. You pulled apart and he noticed your parents before sending a confused look your way.
“Tom,” You cleared my throat, “these are my parents, Jim and Rose,”
You almost winced as you saw his eyes widen in shock.
“Oh my gosh, hi! It's so nice to meet you,��� he said, shaking their hands.
“Nice to meet you too,” your parents said in unison.
“This is such a nice surprise,” Tom said. Either he really thought so, or he needed to consider a career in acting.
“Well, I’m sure you all would like to get to know one another so why don't we head to dinner,” You suggested.
“Sounds good to me,” your dad nodded.
“Did you have anywhere specific in mind?” Tom asked you. You shook your head.
“How about Morton’s, we haven't been there in a while.” He suggested
“Perfect,” You smiled before turning to your parents, “I'll ride over with Tom, you two can follow us,” You said. You would have driven them under any other circumstance but you figured you should talk to Tom.
~
As soon as you got in the car Tom looked at you with a bewildered look.
“Why didn't you tell me they were coming! I had no time to prepare!” He said.
“Tom, I swear I didn't know, they surprised me today! I tried to text and call but your phone was off,” You said. Tom nodded, accepting your explanations.
“I'm just so nervous,” he sighed.
“They'll love you,” you said, placing your hand on his hand which was clutching the gear shift.
“I hope so,” he said.
“By the way, are you okay?” You asked, pointing to his eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he chuckled.
“That was a pretty rough one, huh?” You said.
“Yeah, nothing I couldn’t handle though,” he said, winking at you.
“My hero,” You said sarcastically, earning a laugh. For a moment, you forgot about your parents, but that didn’t last long.
You arrived at the restaurant in Georgetown and your parents arrived moments later.
~
You sat down next to Tom, across from your mom and dad. His leg was bouncing up and down rapidly so you put your hand on it to settle him down. He immediately wrapped his larger hand around yours and shot you a quick nervous smile.
“How long are you both in town for? I'd love to give you a small tour of the city if you have time, (y/n) mentioned you’ve never been to dc. We could see the monuments, anything you'd like to do really,” You beamed at Tom’s gracious offer.
“That's sounds great Tom, we’d love to see your favorite parts of the city,” your dad said.
“That would be nice,” your mom nodded. You smiled and thought that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
Oh, how wrong you were.
After the waiter came by to take everyone’s orders, you could see the same distaste in your mom's eyes that had been there in the arena during Tom’s face.
“So Tom, it was quite the surprise to see you get in a fight today,” she commented. Tom almost choked on the water he was drinking but composed himself.
“Yes, I'm-”
“Was that your first fight?” Your mom asked.
“Well… no,” Tom said shyly.
Your mom made a ‘tsk’ sound, filling you with annoyance.
“Fighting is part of the game, mom,” You reminded her, trying to sound light.
“It's terrible and has no place in the already violent sport,” she said. You rolled your eyes.
“If players didn't fight, there would be much dirtier hits and way more injuries,” You said, looking at your dad for help.
“Yes, I think I heard that too,” he said.
“If a man is going to punch someone over a rubber puck, who’s to say he wouldn't punch someone in real life?” My mom said.
Now you were angry. Scratch that, you were absolutely furious at what she was insinuating.
“Mrs. Rider, I would never hurt (y/n),” Tom said worriedly.
“Well how can you be sure that your temper won't get the best of you?” your mother shrugged.
“Mom,” you said, anger in your voice.
“What? I’m just voicing an opinion,” she shrugged, “can you blame me for being apprehensive about my daughter dating someone so clearly comfortable with fighting?”
You hated the way she was speaking, she was acting as if she were talking about something as casual as the weather when in reality she was verbally attacking your boyfriend.
You could sense Tom growing more and more uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat.
“Who the hell do you think you-” you started but Tom cut you off.
“(y/n), it's okay,” he said nervously.
“No Tom, it's not,” you said
“Please, let's just drop this,” your dad chimed in.
Not wanting to worry Tom any more than you were sure he already was, you agreed to move on although you were practically steaming.
The rest of the dinner was tense and Tom made an effort to keep a conversation going with your parents but you had shut off completely.
Your goodbyes were short and cold while Tom kindly told your parents it was nice to meet them.
“I’m so sorry Tom,” you said once you were in the car.
“It’s okay,” He said quietly.
The rest of the car ride home was silent.
~
Tom was clearly having trouble sleeping. He had been tossing and turning all night. At one point, you rolled over to ask what was wrong only to find that his side of the bed was empty. Eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, you sat up and looked around the room. You spotted his figure out on the balcony attached to your room, sitting on a chair. You frowned at the sight as you slid out of bed. A cool breeze sent a chill down your spine as you opened the sliding door.
“Tom?” You said softly. His elbows were on his knees, hands clasped together as he looked out at the city and he didn’t move from this position at the sound of your voice. You sat down in the empty chair next to him. The two of you spent most of your weekend mornings in those same chairs, drinking coffee, listening to the busy morning sounds of D.C.. Those moments were some of your fondest, though sitting out there with Tom at 2 in the morning didn’t have the same light, relaxed feeling to it.
“What’s wrong?” You spoke again.
Tom looked down at his hands.
“Talk to me,” You said. You could see the tension in his shoulders.
You waited for a response but it seemed like you weren’t going to get one. You were only getting colder as you sat outside in the night air.
“Ok,” you sighed defeatedly, standing up from the chair and turning towards the door, “don’t stay out too long, you need some slee-”
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” Tom cut you off. His voice was raw and raspy. You furrowed your eyebrows in shock as you turned around to see him looking up at you, pain in his face and tears in his eyes.
“Of course I know that Tom, of course,” you said worriedly, sitting back down.
“I mean you see me fight in games all the time, but you know I’d never hurt you, o-or anyone in real life, right? Because I don’t know what I’d do if you were… s-scared of me.” He said, barely audible as his voice broke with the last part. His tears started to fall and he buried his face in his hands. Your heart broke to see him so upset over this, especially because you knew it was your mom who had but such a terrible thought in his head. Desperate to convince him that you weren’t afraid, you knelt in front of him, wrapping your hands around his wrists and gently pulling his hands away from his face. His eyes were red and puffy and avoided yours.
“Tom, look at me” you whispered. He looked at you and you took his face in your hands,
“You have never done anything to make me feel afraid. I know that you would never in a million years hurt me or anybody. When I’m with you, I feel safe.” You said.
He sniffled, nodding lightly as you wiped tears from his cheeks.
“Do you promise?” He asked, voice broken.
“I promise.” You nodded.
He sighed what seemed like a sigh of relief before reaching down to grab one of your hands, pulling it to his mouth and placing a kiss on your knuckles.
“I love you (y/n),” he said
“I love you too,” you said.
“Come on,” you stood, your hand still in his, “let’s go to bed.”
He stood up and before you could turn to go inside, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you. You breathed in his familiar scent, instantly warmed by his hold. You knew he needed this, and you could stay in this position all night. Before pulling away, Tom placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.
You went to bed in Tom’s arms and the two of you had no trouble falling asleep after that.
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lastgeeksdying · 7 years
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Pitches I built a series of stories using the current DC cinematic universe as a loose jumping off point and how to plan it to go forward.  It is a road to get it where I want it, but I think it can be done.  One pitch a week each Friday until Justice League.   So this started posting after Wonder Woman is out but before Justice League.  In theory this means it'll run right up to the release of Justice League.  These speculations will be mostly written before Wonder Woman, with some small changes made following seeing Wonder Woman.  I've included a time line below, with one or two word teases of the pitches going forward.  However, much like this episode, I reserve the right to add titles that I forgot or that I feel will fit in to the mythology as I build out.  Today, I bring you The Batman. 
Here’s the basis of what I think will happen in the films that are already being worked on.  Also, I will be cancelling some of the other films that are set to come out.  DONE DONE DONE. 
Justice League will build the team, tease Darkseid.   Aquaman will be Aquaman fighting Black Manta, set up Ord as Ocean Master.  I'll mostly be treating it as having just been an Origin story. There is a good chance it will actually be Throne of Atlantis, but that isn't important enough for me to factor in when it comes to the pitches down the road.  Which, spoilers, will include a Throne of Atlantis Pitch Justice League: Apokalypse aka JL2  will be Darkseid arriving.(roughly JL:Origin) A Timeline of the Pitches so far are: (Wonder Woman) (Justice League) (Aquaman) (Justice League 2) Wonder Woman:  Fastest in the Jungle THE BATMAN Throne Brave Tower Fear Contract VS Court Identity Black Fall Eyes Serious Shazam Crisis Elegy Corps Peacemakers Young Effigy Society Reborn Kingdom Come Errant Knight Rotworld Return Night Inc The movie opens with a laugh.   A Camera Flashes and a gun shot goes off.   Batman and Robin head to Jim Gordon's home and find Barbara, in her Batgirl costume, shot.  He helps her and changes her out of her suit.  He brings her to the Hospital.  She tells him Jokerland.   Robin rushes out of the room.  Batman tells him to stop but he goes anyway. Sometime later Batman arrives at an Abandoned Amusement park.  The place has been repainted and remarked as "Joker Land".  Bruce travels to the security office and finds each of the guards dead.  Video starts playing showing Robin tied to a chair.  Unmasked.  "Tim Drake?   Bruce Wayne's adopted SON?  Certainly too old to be the old Robin.  Oh well."  Joker comes out of the shadows.  This is a classic looking Joker, his visual look is much more akin to the animated series Joker, but with the classic purple gangster hat.  As Joker strikes the final blow, a door opens in front of Bruce.  This reveals Tim's lifeless body.  A counter appears on the video as the room is lit up and reveals dozens of oil drums.  Batman runs out of the building, leaving the body.   As it explodes he dives out of the building landing at the Joker's feet.   Batman stands up and confronts the Joker.  We see a recreation of the final page of the Killing Joke: http://onlynerdsallowed.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/batman-the-killing-joke-471.jpg Except the ending isn't ambiguous.  Bruce stabs the Joker as he laughs and the sirens wail.   We cut to black and show the title THE BATMAN.   Text appears saying 15 years later showing a modern Ben Afleck.   A gang of Villains dressed as the Original Red Hood rob a bank.  As they come out of the bank a rocket launcher blast is shot and kills all of them.  It is revealed to be Jared Leto's Joker holding the launcher.   "I hate copy cats" Out of nowhere a shot flies down and almost hits the Joker.  Batman swoops in and brings him to the ground.   "Why batsy, I'm so happy to see you."   Joker tries to stab Batman. "I'm trying to protect you.  Someone has put out a hit on you. " "On me?  But why?  I love me!"   "They've pitted 8 of the best killers to bring you down. " "And what, you want that glory for yourself?" "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead Tim." "DON'T CALL ME THAT."   Cut to 8 Killers each being told by a different person to kill the Joker and they will make 30 million dollars.   Batman calls for the Batmobile as Mr. Freeze ices the vehicle down.  It is at this point that the adventure becomes Batman trying to get from Gotham's first National to Arkham Asylum.   Batman fights down Mr. Freeze, learning that he wants the money to fund research for his wife.  Batman manages to beat Victor, but not without the wheels to the Batmobile being destroyed.  When Batman returns he finds that the Joker has run off and has to chase him down.   In a flashback, we see young Batman chasing the Redhood.  Over the comms, he tells Alfred to let Andea know he won't be able to make it due to car trouble.  We then see Batman taking down the original Joker when he was Red Hood and how he became the Joker by falling into Ace Chemicals.   Modern  Batman catches Joker and berates him for running off.  "You can't blame a clown for trying."  "No, but I can blame you." Jumping up, Thomas Blake attacks Joker.  "Oh, you aren't the fun kitty.  You're the lame kitty." Catman tries to reason with Batman,  explaining that with the money Blake and his Husband can run away from Gotham and never be in Batman's hair again.  Bruce considers this, and knocks him out.   Batman runs Joker into the Sewers, with Joker recounting a time where Batman and Robin fought the Joker in the sewer. Bruce clarifies that since this Joker is Tim, he doesn't remember the story entirely.  The real Joker had a room full of kidnapped kids he had been brainwashing into little Jokers.  Some of them would never recover and would go on to form the Jokerz gang.   Copperhead and King Kobra leap out of the shadows to Sting Joker with venom, instead hitting Batman who protected him again.  A delusional Batman tries to fight the Joker, but is easily brought down by the two of them. The Joker gets the upperhand and cuts King Kobra's throat and throws him into the water.  Copperhead tries to kill Joker, but is ultimately stopped.  Joker goes to kill Bruce, but pulls back at the last second.  Batman comes to and reiterates that he intends to lock him in Arkham and throw away the key.   The pair come up from the sewer and find themselves immediately under assault from Machine Gun fire.  Batman pulls Joker inside of a near by building and can't see who is shooting at them.  Batman notices they are on Second Street, and inside Gotham's Second National Bank.  He uses his wrist computer to summon a bat-drone.  This takes down the Machine Gun wielder, Two-Face.  The Bat Drone descends and reveals a secret compartment in the wall near where Batman and Joker came out.  It reveals and hidden stored Bat-cycle.   As Batman and Joker drive down the streets of Gotham a pink motor cycle appears.  The driver whips at Batman and Joker, pulling Joker off the back.  Batman Turns and stops.  The other Driver is revealed to be Flamingo.  "And who are you?" This leads to an epic chase sequence through the streets of Gotham, bursting through several icon locations including the Ice Berg Lounge.  This leads to a confrontation at the gates of Arkham.  Batman beats Flamingo and almost kills him.  Joker/Tim egging him on.  Bruce stops short of killing him and drags Joker and Flamingo inside.  Joker laments that even if Batsy didn't kill Flamingo, he's just as bad as Joker.  He let's his villains live.  He knows they likely won't get well.  And he permanently cripples some of his victims like Joker did to Babs.   Batman hands off Flamingo to someone he doesn't recognize, but demands to walk Joker down to a cell himself. He enters the mess room with Joker walking aside him.  Over the intercom "This is Doctor Hugo Strange, we are locking down the facility per the request of our special guest." Batman remarks "I didn't speak to Hugo Strange" A light highlights Deathstroke at the end of the hall.  "Your right, I did."   Deathstroke fights Batman and Joker.  Part way into the fight, Batman opens two cells and let's Grant Wislon and Rose Wilson join the fight.  The conversation that happens during this fight is about parentage.   Ultimately the two Wilson Children and Joker and Batman take down Deathstroke.   Rose and Grant voluntarily return to their Cells.   Joker tries to kill Batman once more just as he closes the cells.  He eggs on Batman to kill him.  Pushing him.  Bruce tries to get in touch with his Tim side.  He is not successful.  He returns Joker to the Cell.   Batman goes to the Warden's office and finds Clayface acting as Hugo Strange. Batman thanks him for his help in trying to save Tim.  Clayface asks why Batman would put his life in danger to try and save the Joker, and he says it's because he's family.   Bruce donates money to a cancer research facility in the name of Nora Freis.  
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wbwest · 7 years
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New Post has been published on WilliamBruceWest.com
New Post has been published on http://www.williambrucewest.com/2017/03/31/west-week-ever-pop-culture-review-33117/
West Week Ever: Pop Culture In Review - 3/31/17
So, as a week has passed, I find I’ve got some more thoughts on Power Rangers. I watched it again (don’t ask me how), and I actually liked it a lot better. The first viewing is pretty jarring, but once you know what you’re getting yourself into, it’s easier to let go and let Zordon.
Something about it struck me, though: the teens have an odd bloodlust thing going on. They’re really jonesing to kill something/somebody. When they first encounter Alpha, and don’t realize he’s “one of the good guys”, Zack’s immediate response is “We could kill it”. Not “Hey, we should run” or “We need to get away from it”. It was basically “We could end its life”. And while I know kids shows have to use language like “destroy” or “eradicate” or anything that’s not “kill”, I’m not used to applying “killing” to the world of Power Rangers. Even Zordon says that Rita must be “stopped”, and the kids immediately take that as “We have to kill Rita.” Hold your horses, hoss! I know they live in some little podunk fishing town, but have these kids killed before? Will they kill again?!
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Also, Brian Tyler’s score needs to be applauded. It’s one basic theme that’s repeated throughout the film, but I didn’t realize how epic it was until the second viewing. Sure, it’s not “Go Go Power Rangers” or any of the show’s songs from Ron Wasserman, but it really conveys that superhero aesthetic the movie is going for.
It’s not all sunshine and roses in the world of Power Rangers, however. First up, original Green Ranger Jason David Frank was apparently kicked out of the premiere of the film because he took out his camera to film the audience’s reaction to his onscreen cameo. If you’re not familiar with his antics, his lives his life online. He thinks he’s giving a ton of access to his fans, so he basically vlogs EVERYTHING. Signings, convention panels, etc. He was a web series called My Morphing Life, so I assume  he was trying to get footage for that. Well, security did what the original 5 Power Rangers couldn’t do, and that was defeat the Green Ranger. They escorted him out and he didn’t even get to see the mid credit scene. They tried to take his phone, which he wasn’t about to let them do, so he yelled “It’s morphin time” and proceeded to beat up a bunch of middle aged men. Well, I don’t know about that last part, but it’s still fun to imagine.
Next up, murderous Wild Force Red Ricardo Medina Jr has been sentenced to 6 years in jail for the 2015 stabbing death of his roommate. Earlier this month he pleaded guilty voluntary manslaughter, and he got the maximum sentence for that charge. While I poke fun at it, the whole matter kinda sucks. I mean, he claims it was in self defense. In this crazy country, if he’d shot the guy, we probably wouldn’t even be having this discussion. Instead, he had to go and use a sword, and the American legal system just isn’t built for that. Here’s hoping he gets off early for good behavior or something.
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There was a Justice League trailer released last Saturday, and that’s all I have to say about that. No, I guess I have more to say. Look, if the DCEU movies still get you hard, then more power to you. I’ve been fooled enough by those films to know that they’re more than likely not going to be my cup of tea. I felt like I was in Bizarro World, though, as everyone seemed to love the trailer but hate Cyborg. I was the opposite. I just can’t get excited about these things anymore, but I thought Cyborg looked cool. I’ve been told the CGI is outdated, but I’d rather he look like that than just a Black guy in a silver suit. Anyway, Snyder makes long-form stylized music videos. That’s what Watchmen was, and Dawn of Justice was a darker version of that. Here, it’s business as usual for him.
Speaking of DC movies, apparently Joss Whedon is in talks to write, produce and direct a Batgirl movie. Ya know, until he drops out. I’ve never worshipped at the altar of Joss, as I can see the holes in his whole gimmick. He’s always the go-to guy for “strong, female characters”, but I feel like it’d make more sense to just hire a woman instead of hiring a man who seems to understand women. I think DC is just trying to hedge their Bat bets because they know Affleck has one foot out the door. DC is the KING of announcing shit with nothing to back it up. The only time the MCU did that was with Inhumans, but DC has promised Green Lantern Corps, Black Adam, and  Cyborg films – all of which seem to be in Development Hell. To me, this is just another empty promise. DC is the dad who makes a ton of empty promises because he’s scared you love mom’s new boyfriend (Marvel) more than him. And they’re right. Have people forgotten all the Wonder Woman drama? People act like this is a major heel turn, with Whedon “defecting” from Marvel to DC, but I think the Russo Bros effectively swept away any influence folks thought Joss had on the MCU. Age of Ultron was a bore of a chore, so I’m not exactly jazzed about him crossing the aisle. I also don’t like the idea of a standalone Batgirl film that didn’t organically evolve from an existing Batman franchise. The Batman is falling apart, and instead of fixing that, they move on to Batgirl? Get your shit together, DC!
In the world of TV, Katie Cassidy is reportedly returning to Arrow next season as a series regular. Instead of playing Laurel Lance, however, she’ll be reprising her Earth 2 identity as villain Black Siren. If you remember, she crossed over into our world this season, and Oliver’s determined to rehabilitate her. I’m bored just thinking about it. However, if you know anything about the Arrowverse, you know that “series regular” doesn’t mean much. After all, Willa Holland is a series regular, and we’ve seen Thea how much this season? And Cassidy already had that exclusive Berlantiverse contract this season that yielded few results. I guess we’ll have to wait and see how much exposure she actually gets.
Speaking of the Arrowverse, we finally got our first look at Cress Williams as Black Lightning in the pilot being filmed by The CW. Fox passed on this a few months ago, so naturally The CW came to the rescue. Personally, I don’t think that universe needs a fifth show. They always add a show to the detriment of another. Arrow suffered when Flash came along, Flash suffered when Supergirl and Legends of Tomorrow came along. Supergirl‘s still getting used to its new home, while Legends is only just starting to get good. I think they should focus on what they have instead of trying to expand right now. Someone online said that Black Lightning was corny, but so was Static and folks are always claiming they wanna see that character make a comeback. Sure, Black Lightning hails from a different era, and I really hope they just call him Lightning, kinda like how Ollie was just The Arrow in the beginning. The only important storyline I remember featuring Black Lightning was when he was chosen to be the Secretary of Education under the Luthor Administration. Other than that, his daughters have had more page time than he has in recent years. I’d be all for the character joining the Legends team, but I don’t know if there’s enough meat on that bone for a series. And knowing The CW, they’re gonna green light it anyway – not even stopping to think how a failure would devalue the brand.
Things You Might Have Missed This Week
The Big Bang Theory scored a 2-season renewal, which will take it through season 12. Suck it, haters!
Han Solo is not the character’s real name. His birth name was Handsome Solowitz, but his manager made him change it
Adam Sandler inked a deal for another 4 Netflix movies. When, exactly, did he officially become the White Tyler Perry?
In the upcoming film, Jumanji will now be a video game console and not a board game. As someone who never saw the first film, and has never played many board games, this doesn’t bother me in the least
The upcoming Astonishing X-Men comic series will feature a different artist every issue. All I know is that each issue better be a self-contained, done-in-one affair, or this is gonna get messy!
TLC is planning to bring back Trading Spaces. Paige Davis better return to host, or GTFO.
Jack the Ripper time travel drama Time After Time has been canceled by ABC
Bones ended its 12-year run, making it the longest-running Fox drama
AMC has renewed sci fi android drama HUMANS after a blink-and-you-missed-it second season.
Jordan Peele is being sought after to direct the live action Akira movie. Seems like an odd choice, but I guess he can write his own ticket after Get Out‘s success.
Mindy Kaling announced that her series, The Mindy Project, would end after its next season on Hulu.
In music news, I’ve just discovered a new Chinese boyband called Acrush. There’s a catch, however – it’s actually made up of androgynous girls! CRAZY!
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Did you see that? I’m just glad Spider-Man is in the MCU now. Nobody does a shared universe like Marvel, so it’s nice to see him come home. It still feels like it’s an Ultimate Spider-Man movie, what with Gank…”Ned Leeds”. Seriously, why would Marvel go to the trouble of clearly putting Miles Morales’ best friend Ganke in the movie but then call him one of the Hobgoblins? Am I really supposed to expect this kid to become Hobgoblin down the road, a few sequels from now? It almost feels like fanservice to give him that name, to make fans wonder what might happen in the future, while never actually delivering it.
Anyway, every announcement about this film just gets better and better. For example, it was announced that it would officially introduce Damage Control to the MCU. In the comics, Damage Control was a construction firm co-owned by Tony Stark and Wilson Fisk (The Kingpin) that was tasked with rebuilding NYC after superhero battles. It’s such a logical concept, but something that gets lost in the suspension of disbelief that comics require. I’ve loved every appearance of Damage Control, so it’s nice that we’ll finally get to see them onscreen. They were actually mentioned in an episode of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., as a division of S.H.I.E.L.D. itself, so it’ll be interesting to see how the movie handles this.
Also, it was reported that Pepper Potts might be making her return to the MCU in the film. I tend to hate Gwyneth Paltrow, but I really like her take on Pepper, as she serves as a good match for Downey’s Stark. If this rumor pans out, I’ll be very happy.
At this point, the only thing I’m not looking forward to is The Vulture. I always thought he was a lame character, but here’s hoping Keaton can do something to make him interesting. I’m as eager for this film as I’m not eager for Justice League. I swear I’m not just some Marvel fanboy, as I’m currently reading more DC than Marvel. That said, Marvel simply makes better movies, and it appears this will be one of them. So, for those reasons, the Spider-Man: Homecoming trailer had the West Week Ever.
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forlornmelody · 4 years
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Kord Center Mall: Rose Takes Bart to a Rave
Rating: Explicit (there’s smut, and drug use, and lots of swearing)
Fandom(s): Mass Effect, DC Comics
Ship: JayRose (Jason Todd/Rose Wilson)
AO3 Link: Here
Summary: Even the best-made plans go sideways, sometimes.In which Rose plans to have a good time with her NOT boyfriend, but ends up watching over the most annoying and most adorable kid working at Kord Center Mall.
Note: This is a cross over, mall-verse AU concocted by @scifi-ginger and myself. You’ve been warned.
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Rose Wilson has three stops she makes on her hour-long lunch break. How she managed to get an hour instead of 30 minutes like most part-timers, no one seems to know. Her desk partner, Cassandra Sandsmark--regular employee of the month and all-around wonder girl, has definitely noticed, and she protests every time Rose leaves. Their manager likes Rose, so he never says anything. Or maybe he’s terrified of her dad like everyone else. Getting into his scheduling software is easy enough, especially since he has the password on a sticky note behind his monitor. It’s not Rose’s fault if he doesn’t bother to memorize it.
First she goes to Joey’s counter at MAC. For someone who’d rather sign than talk, Joey sure sells a lot of beauty products. It’s probably the way he smiles at his customers, giving them bedroom eyes regardless of their gender. When Rose spots him, he’s chatting up some twink who has trouble standing still. Joey lays a steadying hand on his shoulder, applying the liquid eye liner like he’s still in art school. He waves at Rose when he’s done with the makeover, walking the guy over to the counter to what’s surely going to be a big sale. When the customer signs his receipt, he also jots down his number. Taking the receipt, Joey nods at the guy, then at Rose.
“Oh! Sorry. Didn’t realize you’d been waiting.” The twink stumbles out of the store, leaving Joey and Rose alone at the counter.
Joey punches the guy’s number into his phone and Rose rolls her eyes. Her brother sets his phone down, and his hands flurry into signs. “What? Was it something I said?”
Rose leans across the counter, so his co-worker can’t hear her talk. “Really? Are you going to seduce every single person who comes in here?”
Waving his hand dismissively, Joey snorts. “He was cute.”
“You say that about everyone, Joey. And I won’t let you tarnish my reputation as the skankiest Wilson.”
Leaning back towards her with a wicked gleam in his eye, Joey slaps his hand on the counter. “I’m pretty sure Pop has us both beat there.”
“Gross.” Rose starts to walk out, but her phone pings. 
I still want Vega’s number.
Rose turns back to face him, grinning widely as she moonwalks out the store. “Fucking a personal trainer won’t get you a free membership!” She calls out.
Joey’s hands move so big Rose is convinced the department store across the hall can see. “But it will get me some exercise!”
 Shaking her head, Rose moves on to the crystal shop three doors down. Rachel, or Raven, as most call her, is busy ringing someone up, so Rose peruses the tea selection. She isn’t really sure what to make of the supernatural or the paranormal, to be honest, but she humors her friend--getting palm and tarot readings from her so Raven can practice. Every so often she’ll even join her meditation sessions, though Rose has the worst time sitting still. Her latest mantra is “I’d rather be punching a bag” over and over until Raven shoves her away.
Ignoring the names of the teas, Rose takes her time sniffing each jar for the one’s that’ll taste best. She picks one up that smells like almost nothing. What’s the fucking poi--
“I don’t think you need anything for erectile dysfunction.” Raven drawls from behind her. “If you do, we really need to talk.”
“Jesus.” Rose jumps a little, slamming the lid back down. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”
“Are you actually going to buy something, or are you just here to fuck off?” Raven folds her arms, eyeing Rose with a smirk. 
“What’s a good compliment to some dank weed?” Rose leans back against the shelves, jostling several jars in her wake.
Raven scoffs, but digs out a couple jars, pushing Rose out of the way. “What does Joey think about you partying with the mall’s resident bad boys?”
“And girl.” Rose holds up a finger like a kindergarten teacher. “Don’t forget the girl.” As if anyone could forget Jack Nought. With her mohawk and tats, she looks like she walked off the set of Mad Max. Maybe she did. Jack can do whatever the fuck she wants. “And Joey trusts me to take care of myself.” She pokes Raven in the nose. “Unlike some people.”
“Har har.” Raven waves her off like a fly. “And your dad?” Her voice lightens, and her eyebrows knit together, all airs of indifference falling away. She moves behind the counter, measuring and weighing the ounces of tea, only to toss the generous amounts in the bags anyway. Samara lets Raven do what she wants, too. They should start a club.
“He can go fuck himself.” 
“You know, I have an extra room available if you--”
“Don’t.” Rose eyes the register to see what total Raven rang up, and slams extra down on the counter.
“Fine.” Raven starts to count out her change. Rose leaves before she can put it in her hands. Good thing she was already on her way to the punk store.
Jack is chewing and blowing bubblegum when Rose walks in. “Hey fucker,” she calls out affectionately.
“Fuck you too, Jack.” Rose circles the counter, squeezing Jack’s butt in her usual greeting--her eyes searching the merchandise.
“Looking for Jason?” Jack slaps her ass in reply. He’s running inventory in the back.”
“No, your other boy toy.” Rose quips as she heads towards the backdoor. She’s not allowed back there, but she’s on good terms with the management team.
Jason is waist deep in open boxes when she finds him. “Hey asshole,” she says to his back as he studies his clipboard. 
“Jesus.” Jason slips and falls back against one stack of merchandise. His clipboard goes flying. Peanuts rain down on their heads. “Hey bastard.”
Rose picks the peanuts from her hair, squishing one between her fingers. “Excuse me? You’re the one who’s adopted.”
Jason pulls her down with him. “You’re the one who disowned her dad.” 
Plastic bags squeak underneath their feet as she settles down next to him. “He deserved it.” Next to Jason isn’t close enough. Rose crawls into his lap.
“Rose, I’m a little--”
“Busy?” Her breath ghosts across his lips. “Not busy enough.” His body always feels so warm beneath her hands.
Jason’s lips part, and his hand wanders back and forth across the top of her shoulder, like he can’t decide between pushing her away and pulling her closer. “Jack will kill us if she finds us goofing off.”
“Since when do you care about the rules?” She kisses him once, long and slow, one hand scratching the back of his neck. “And she won’t kill me. I’m on break.” 
Jason swears. “I’m already behind today.”
“Does that mean yes?”
“You asked?” He kisses her this time, pulling her tight against him. They fit together like puzzle pieces. 
Rose trails her other hand down his side, sliding it between them. She drinks in his groan, sliding her tongue into his mouth, and her hand into his hoodie pocket. 
Jason seizes her wrist, pulling away from her mouth. His breath comes out ragged. “Really?”
Sitting back, she pouts. “Empty? Nothing? Nada? Zilch?”
“I’m working.”
“Not even one joint? You disappoint me, Todd.”
“I’m not going to get arrested at work, Wilson.”
“At least tell me there’s a party this weekend.” Rose traces the lines of Jason’s jaw. She could do it all day. It’s not her fault he’s so easy on the eyes. 
Jason leans back against the boxes, pulling Rose with him. “Mm. I think there’s a rave.”
Grinning slowly, Rose braces her hands on either side of his head, letting her hair drape around their faces. “Please tell me we’re going.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get a group together.” He slides her hoodie’s zipper down. “Get a couple cars going.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he grins up at her. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about right now?”
“Depends.” Her hand slides underneath his hoodie and his shirt, shivering at the way his skin jumps. It should be illegal for someone to be this perfect. “Is it going to be more fun than this weekend?”
Jason rolls them over, pushing her shirt up. “Depends.” He lavishes her middle with kisses. “On.” A breath. “Where your head's at.”
If anything, Rose doesn’t like where her thoughts are headed. It’s all too easy to imagine dinner dates and long walks on the beach, or whatever it is couples do. So, she plays with the hair on the back of Jason’s head as he makes his way lower and lower. No matter what happens, no one can take this moment from them--from her. Maybe Jason’s right. 
“Rose?” Jason’s hands let go of her jeans, and he’s watching her. Shit.  
Shaking it off, Rose pulls him back to her. “C’mere.” Her lips crash into his, biting his bottom lip until he hisses into her mouth. “You’re short on time, right?” She slides her hand down, unbuttoning his jeans.
It’s a bold face lie and they both know it. “Yeah.” Jason gulps, sliding his hand inside her jeans. He pauses at what he finds or doesn’t find there. “Rose?”
“Shhh.” She shoves her jeans down, guiding his fingers. “It won’t take long, I promise.”  Rose grins against his lips. “Especially with you.” 
Jason’s kiss is a little too tender, his touch a little too reassuring, so Rose goes in hard. Her lips crash into his and she bites his bottom lip. As he moans into her mouth, she yanks his jeans out of her way, feeling along his length. 
“Mm.” Rose tugs his ear lobe between her teeth, shivering at his sharp breath in her hair. “You are all I need right now. Just you.” 
“Fuck, Rose.” Jason rocks into her hand, gripping her shoulders hard. “I need you, too.” He just manages to get beneath her underwear again, snickering between moans. “That’s more like it.” 
“Nng.” Rose leans her head against Jason’s shoulder as his knuckle digs against her clit. It slips a little against her soaked skin. This is what she needs. “Just like that.” Panting, she bites his neck where it meets his shoulder. 
Jason shakes, shakes under her touch. “Rose--” Her name isn’t a question this time. It’s a plea. 
Rose snickers. “You want me?” Fuck, the way he whimpers as she shoves his underwear down. “You need me?”
“Rose, please.” Jason kisses her hungrily, fumbling as he pulls her underwear past her hips. 
Swallowing hard, Rose digs through his pockets until she finds what she’s looking for. There. She grins, holding up the condom where Jason can see. He nods, and she slides it on him. Together they slide him inside her, and together they are a mess of limbs and teeth. 
“Oh, fuck.” Rose whimpers, falling back against one of the stacks. It’s a little soon and a little rough, but it’s exactly what she needs right now. “Fuck, yes.”
“Y-yeah.” Jason drives into her, gripping her hips so tight she’ll have bruises later. He bites her neck, marking her in kind. Oh fuck, the boxes are going to fall over. 
Moaning into his ear, she slides her fingers beneath his shirt, skimming her nails down his back.
“Rose,” he gasps. Now it’s a statement. A warning.  
“Jason, I need--” Rose whimpers. She’s so close. 
“Shh.” He catches her lips, taking her hand and putting it between them. 
Rose circles her clit quickly, closing her eyes as Jason pulses inside her. His fingers slide over hers, and he pants into her neck as her world tilts on tilts on its axis. 
Seconds, minutes, hours? Later she turns her head and finds him lying next to her, and they snicker together. Rose pushes a sweaty lock of hair out of his eyes. 
“How the fuck am I supposed to work after that?” Jason traces her bottom lip with his finger. 
“There’s a Starbucks across the hall.” Ah fuck. There’s that feeling again. Rose kisses his finger once, then sits up, grabbing her clothes and throwing them on. “What time on Saturday?”
Jason blinks up at her, pushing himself off the floor. “....Eight, I guess? It’s out of town.”
Rose snatches one last kiss from his lips. “See you then, asshole.”
“Catch you later, bastard.”
_____________________
 Fuck him. Fuck Jason Todd. Fuck his entire fucking family. Rose stares down at her phone, the bass of the warehouse thumping even from across the field-turned parking lot. 
“What’s wrong?” Bart leans over her shoulder, reading Jason’s text message. 
Stuck at Bruce’s party. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise. 
Rose swats him away. “He fucking bailed.” 
Jack and Roy had already gone inside. They wouldn’t be able to find them til sunrise. And Jason wasn’t coming. That just left her and Bart “I can’t shut up” Allen. Two hours in the backseat doing her best to ignore him. Oo! What music are you listening to? Can I share? Lemme make you a playlist. Do you like Kesha? I LOVE KESHA. Rose didn’t even need to respond. He’d just keep talking. 
“Jason bailed? What happened? Was it one of those Wayne Manor parties? Maybe we should go there.”
“It’s two hours away and we’re not invited, dumbass.” Rose made her way to the door. “You got your ID?”
“Well. Oh! You mean that ID.” Bart waggled his eyebrows. “Yeah. Tim made me one.” He pulled it out, waving it in front of her face.
“Gimme that.” Rose eyed it. “No way you’re passing for thirty.” She shoved it in her pocket. 
“But how am I going to get inside?” He trailed after her.
“Lemme worry about that.” Rose spun around, and Bart ran into her. “But you need to let me do the talking. Kay?”
“Kay.”
“How’d you get invited, anyway?” Rose stomped toward the doors, doing her best to put on a winning smile. She needed something good, stat. 
“Oh! Tim invited me. But he had to go to Bruce’s party too.”
“So I get to babysit you instead. Fucking fantastic.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault Jason flaked.”
Rose stopped, glaring at him. “I was supposed to get high and laid tonight. But no. I get stuck with you.”
Bart flushed as red as his hair. “I mean. You still c-can. I won’t stop y-you.” 
“Wally would turn me into a statue and put me in a museum, so no. That’s not happening.” The Wayne boys owed her big time. 
“ID’s?” The bouncer shined a flash night near their faces, eyeing them. 
Rose pressed her ID into the guys hand, biting her grin. “Hey there.” 
The bouncer smirked. “Who’s the kid?”
“Oh, him? He’d just here to drive us home. Just got his license, right Bart?” Rose giggled. “Hey, you busy later, or--?” She swiped the sharpie from his pocket, scribbling a phone number on his arm. 
“Have fun. But keep him out of trouble.”
Rose threw him a mock salute, shoving Bart inside before the bouncer could change his mind. “Whew. Okay. Just promise me you won’t do anything--”
“Oo. What’s this?”
Turning around, Rose caught Bart popping a brightly colored pill into his mouth. “Bart, no!” Shit shit shit. She grabbed his wrist.
Bart’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Too late.”
“You don’t know what’s in that!” Fuck. Wally was going to kill her. 
“I’ll be fiiine. You worry too much. Let’s dance!” Bart tugs her to the middle of the room, oblivious to the strangers he’s running into. Yup. If Wally doesn’t kill her first, Bart is first on her shit list.
At least the music’s nice--loud and thrumming through her entire body. She would almost enjoy it, if it weren’t for the looming feeling of shit about to hit the fan. It’s one thing if Rose gets high and gets sick and wakes up in the ER--Bart’s just a kid.
 After a few songs, Rose starts to think maybe Bart just found some candy and is just messing around to piss her off. 
Then he steps inside her bubble. She can’t hear what he’s saying, so Bart yells in her ear. “You’re really pretty.”
Fucking fantastic. “And you’re high. Fuck off.”
Bart moves back, only to dive in closer, tripping over Rose’s feet. “This stuff is great. I can see why you wanted it. I can fly.” He scrunches his nose. “No. I could run. Run right across the ocean something.”
That’s a mental image that will haunt her later. “You’re not even close, kid.” It’s then Bart decides to grind up against some dude twice his age. It’s then Rose decides to steer him outside.
“Ro-ose.” 
“Shove it, Bart. We can still hear it out here.” 
“Oo. It’s so nice and cold out here. You’re right.” Rose has to peel herself out of his hug. He only hugs her again, spinning them around. “You’re the best.”
“And you’re still high.” How long does that shit last, anyway? Time drags on so much longer when she’s sober. 
“Noooo. I mean it.” Bart pokes her nose. “You’re watching out for me. You’re like my big sister.”
“Your big sister that will kill you if Wally doesn’t get to you first.”
Bart stares at her jacket, running his finger along stitching on her sleeve. 
“You okay?” Rose has no idea how it’s possible, but quiet Bart is worse than talkative Bart. 
“You got any gum?” Bart doesn’t wait for her answer, digging through her pockets until he finds some. He then unwraps the rest of her back before shoving it in his mouth.
“Yeah, sure. Have some gum.” It’s going to be a long night--Rose can tell.
“Got any water?” Bart fiddles with the zipper on her pocket. “I’m so thirsty. Do you get thirsty on this stuff?”
Rose groans, dragging him back inside. “Let’s find you some gatorade.”
------
Hours, maybe centuries later, Bart sits with Rose outside, snuggled up to her as close as he can get. Her tiny leather jacket doesn’t really work as a blanket for them both, but it’ll have to do. “Still cold?” She asks. 
Bart’s voice is muffled against her collarbone. “Yeah. But it’s better.” 
Rose rests her chin on top of his head, rubbing her head down his back. She’ll probably never know what having a little brother feels like, but this will do. Damnit. Bart might be the stupidest little fuck, but he’s her stupid little fuck and she will fucking murder anyone who hurts him. Her knuckles will have bruises by morning, but she’ll feel better than the creep with the freshy broken nose.
“Rose?” Bart sighs, and Rose feels him tremble.
“Yeah?”
“You ever like someone who didn’t like you back?”
Rose chews her lip, remembering Dick and his impossibly blue eyes, and his stupid grin. How she’d move the world for him and he’d still just pat her on the head like she was his kid sister. Bart didn’t need to know about that. “Yeah.” The whole world didn’t need to know it either.
“Why does it hurt so much?” Bart breathes in like there’s ice in his lungs. 
“Fuck, Bart. What did you take?” Rose tilts his chin up, studying his face, as if that will give her a good answer. It won’t.
“No. I mean. When you lo--like someone, and they think you’re best friends. Why does it have to hurt like this?” Bart sniffs. “How do you people deal with this all the time?”
Rose stares at him. Not once has she ever seen Bart cry. Bart isn’t the kind of kid who knows how to cry--not because he’s some bro-ner clutching his man card. Sadness and Bart just don’t go together. He has one mode, only one, and that is pure joy and smiles and energy that usually makes Rose want to hurl. What the hell happened to the kid who came with her to the rave? Only when her mouth feels dry does Rose realize that her jaw fell open. She snaps it back shut. “Do you need me to kill someone?”
“What? No. No. He’s perfect. He just doesn’t like me back.” Bart shakes, vibrating through his entire body. “Of all people I could finally fall for--why’d it have to be him?”
“Him, huh?” Rose smirks, handing him yet another tissue. “Do I know this him?”
A sniff. “Yeah. I think he parties with Roy and Jason sometimes.”
“That really narrows it down.” Rose rolls her eyes.
“He’s got this great tan, and he always smells like taco seasoning.”
“So romantic.”
“And when he speaks Spanish it’s like--” Bart laughs “my brain finally stops, you know?” He stares up at the sky as if the object of his affection can be found among the constellations. “I used to think he looked kind of funny, I mean, who spends that much time on their hair? But now? I can’t stop thinking about how I want to mess up that hair. Run my fingers through it, I mean.”
“Wait. Jaime? The kid who works at Taco Bell?”
“You’re the same age as him.”
“Yeah, but the way he kisses R--never mind.” Rose coughs. “Have you told him yet?”
“Told him what?”
“Told him how you feel?”
“Jaime? No. No. I can’t.” Bart jumps out of her arms, pacing back and forth so fast he almost seemed like a blur in the low light. 
Rose smirked. “You both speak English, you both work at the same mall. There is no reason you can’t tell him you want to jump his bones.”
“But what if he doesn’t like me back? He’s my best friend Rose! What if it gets weird??”
“Then find someone else to bang?”
“I can’t.” Bart stops, biting his lip so hard it turns white. “...This isn’t so easy for me.” He scratches his scalp, his skin turning as red as his hair. “The last time I dated a friend...he didn’t feel the same way. And now it’s weird.” Bart sniffs.
Oh no. Not again. “Bart--”
“I can’t lose Jaime like that.” And there he goes. “I don’t want to.”
“Oh Bart.” Rose hugs him, patting the back of his head. He’s probably going to outgrow her in a year. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“I hardly ever feel this way about anybody. I just--”
She pulls away enough to stare him in the face. “Bart. You work at Kord Square. Everyone there is queer. You have lots of friends.”
“But--”
“Bartholomew Henry Allen II, you will be fine. I promise. Let’s go hang out in the car, yeah?” Bart mutters an okay, rubbing his eyes, and Rose guides him back, a plan already forming in her mind. She can practically see the outcome. Those two love birds won’t know what hit them. 
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