"She is a child that was forced to grow up." -Unknown
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Ever since Jason's torture and death, I kept having nightmares and terrors about it. They started occurring shortly after my unorthodox escape that Kiera orchestrated during a ritual. I couldn't get over the fact that he had died while I got to escape with my life. Still can't move past it on those rainy days. No matter how many sleeping pills or antidepressants I took before going to bed. It broke my heart, knowing that my one best friend and crush was tortured and broken... All because I was too weak, too inexperienced and too afraid to stand up for him and myself. Then, of course, the fact that his tormentor... my former father... The Clown Prince of Crime, the Joker, wasn't properly punished. Believe it or not, I wanted the bastard dead and burning in hell, just as much as everyone else in Gotham.
Besides, that clown was no longer my foster father... not after what he did to my first and only friend... no matter what how much he continues to call himself my father...
But, no matter how much I tried to keep away from the Joker and the other supervillains... No matter how much I tried to accept the harsh reality in front of me... the nightmares never seemed to stop...
Worst of all, the dreams were always the same...
The torture method and monologue that clown used was different each night...
But, the paralyzing, burning pain I felt in my chest... the twisted, fucked up scenario playing out in front of me... the agonizing screams that came from Jason echoing in my skull... it was all the same... always...
This particular night, it was a playback of what happened after I first found Jason, trapped in the asylum by the Joker. My friend was strung up by the wrists with rope from the rafters, head bowed and ankles broken and out of shape. Meanwhile, tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing with the blood from his recent wounds and making the open ones sting. The duct tape over his mouth blocked out most of his screams and whimpers. His Robin suit was practically ruined, stained with his blood and marked with scratches from the crowbar and barbed wire he was tied up in. It was horrible to look at, but I couldn't look away, due to the horror I felt.
My heart panged and throbbed horribly at the sight, causing it to slowly start breaking all over again. My already weakened knees buckled and shook uncontrollably with every step my dream self took. My brown eyes watered and became hazy as salty tears threatened to spill over. I couldn't wake up... I was trapped in this hellhole that my own mind created...
"Ah... that girl... always so headstrong... so resilient... so free-spirited... I see now why she chooses to be good chums with you, my boy. You bring out the fiery, stubborn streak in her. That rebelliousness that all children your age have. A very admirable quality to have, for sure... but only for so long..." The voice of the clown chimed from the shadows before appearing in the dim white light of the room alongside Jason. The Joker's voice was laced with a tone that mocked me as my soul bled out. Bled out with sorrow, regret and rage like nothing I had ever felt before. These nightmares were just salt, seeping deeply into the parts that still haven't healed and creating a near incurable infection.
At this point, the tape on Jason's mouth partially came off before he furrowed his brows and bore his teeth, "That's because she's her own person! She has her own mind, her own heart, everything! No matter how much you try to break her, that's something you can't take away from her!"
"Oh, really now?" The same mocking tone of the Joker cut deeper than any knife or bladed weapon ever could. Only one physical blade had ever left a permanent mark on my body in my life... but it didn't compare to the hurt of knowing what was happening to my best friend in his own prison.
The criminal clown then spoke again, "Then, why is it she couldn't save you?"
That one question was all it took to get Jason to stop talking. He closed his eyes tightly and just bowed his head in slight shame. He couldn't think of anything to say... because, whether he wanted to admit it or not, I had failed... Because I couldn't do the one thing that one friend would do if the other was in danger... save them from potential harm... or worse...
All he could get out was a quiet and weak, "Screw you..."
"Well, if you're so certain in her strength, then perhaps... we should test it and see how long she can truly last..." Joker then began to back out of the room towards the stairs to leave, his sadistic grin widening as he did.
Jason's eyes opened widely as panic flooded his exhausted body, spiking his fear. He then started to shake his head profusely and, with the same urgence, tried to break out of his restraints. But, all that did was snap the weakened rope and send him trembling to the floor. After a moment to catch whatever breath was knocked from his lungs, he tried using whatever arm strength he had to crawl over slowly to his tormentor. He then spoke again as the Clown Prince of Crime ascended the stairs with rampant anticipation. That's when Jason's voice grew louder until he was screaming at the top of his lungs with tears in his blue eyes, "No, no, no... No, NO! ERICA!"
Then, the yell of my younger self from upstairs...
"JASON!"
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My eyes shot open and my body lunged upward, adrenaline rushing through the passageways of my veins. My dark brown hair and olive skin was damp with sweat, both from the heat of my room and the intensity of my dream. Tears stained my cheeks due to the painful reminder of what happened in the past. All of my mistakes, all of my doubts and all of the promises I couldn't keep to myself and Jason. They say that intentional betrayal hurts like a knife in the back... but betrayal by incapability probably hurts like a flaming and poisoned arrow through the heart...
Now unable to close my eyes to mope or sleep for another hour or thirty minutes, I got up and out of my bed. The smooth and polished floor of the refurbished studio apartment was cold against my feet. Opening the door to my bedroom, I entered the conjoined dining room and kitchen. I trudged over to the coffee pot, in desperate need of a dose of caffeine. As I did, I reached my hands onto my hips and proceeded to crack the stiffness out of my back. I then felt a slight itch between my shoulder blades, irritating my skin and my back.
However, as I moved my hand to the source of the aggravation, I realized why I never looked or even touched my upper back. Raised rough lines and scored skin was all I could feel, littering my back. The itch from before slowly melted away as memories began rushing back to me.
'I'll kill you...'
'Oh, I'd like to see you try, my dear..."
Before I was swept away by a tidal current of anxiety and depression, I managed to come back to reality. I continued my trek over to the coffee pot, booting it up and waiting for the caffeinated beverage to brew. As the machine roared, I grabbed a mug from one of the cabinets, along with the caramel creamer and sweetener I used every morning. I started rubbing the drowsiness from my eyes as a way to stay awake a few minutes longer without coffee. How young and matured adults do this on a regular basis, I still have no idea. But, God, was it tedious and frustrating... especially when your anxiety is kicking you in the ass and not your half-asleep brain.
A loud beeping jolted my attention back to the fresh pot of coffee. Groggily grabbing it, I carefully poured the drink into the cup before placing the pot back into its place. I then took a few moments to add the cream and sugar to it and stir it around. The gradual shift from a near shade of black to light brown always managed to mesmerize me somehow. It almost distracted me from the fact that I was still so tired... Until a yawn pushed its way out of my mouth. In a moment of much needed relief, I brought the mug to my lips and took a small sip to avoid burning my tongue. The caffeine was immediately pushed into my veins and into every part of my body.
I tilted my head back, allowing the rush to calm down. The faint hint of caramel, laced with the usual bitter taste of coffee, rested on my tongue and lips. The flavor was addicting and heavenly in a way that felt foreign to me. I know it sounds crazy, but this was one of those things that I'll probably never get used to. Somedays, I wonder if this whole reality is just a dream and I'll wake up, back in that dark, filthy cell at the Asylum. I shook my head, dismissing the thought.
No, I can't think like that...
It'll just bring back painful memories... of him...
I took another sip of my coffee, leaning myself against the counter edge of the kitchen island. My eyes were now trained on the fridge, where there was a grocery list, stuck to the surface by a simple magnet. The handwriting was undeniably Kiera's, that neat, loopy and effortless cursive with the dramatic cartography being unmatched by me or anyone else. While it was beautiful and distinctive, the writing was also, at times, very disorienting to read.
Of course, glaring daggers at the grocery list made me want to do something helpful and productive. Ever since Jason's death at Arkham, I've tried to be of as much help as possible...
At least, whatever help I can afford without having my true identity exposed by any familiar faces.
Hopefully, if things go according to what me and Kiera have planned, I'll be able to help in another way... From the shadows...
Finishing up my coffee, I put my mug by the side of the sink. I then moved back to my room to get changed into normal clothes. I don't normally wear a lot of black, not even during my time with the Joker. But, my life became a never-ending funeral after what happened at Arkham.
(For Reference, this is her outfit):
As I pulled the chain of my locket to pull from under the fishnetting of my shirt, I was reminded of who gave it to me. The rough 'E' front and center on the heart-shaped pendant was indented into the metallic material. It was the first and only gift Jason ever got me. I never took it off since he gave it to me, only hiding it under my shirt, so that the Joker and his goons wouldn't notice. But now, I wear it and never hide it from anyone. I don't care anymore...
It felt like I was carrying a piece of him wherever I went...
Grabbing my bag and slipping on my reading glasses, I headed down the stairs. Before I went out the door, I grabbed some of the usable shopping bags I had on hand. Unfortunately, I don't have a car and my motorcycle's currently at an auto shop, so I was going to have to hoof it. Not that I mind it... it actually was kinda refreshing to take a walk around the city. Especially when the closest grocery store is only a few blocks away.
The grocery store in question was actually where I worked while I've been under the radar and out of sight of the supervillains of Gotham. I couldn't risk working somewhere that would give me any unwanted attention. The grocery store wasn't much, but it was a job and it helped cover my share of expenses back home. I honestly didn't want or need a nine-to-five job, either. I needed a job where I could manage my hours to my liking and I could take personal or sick days if I had to. But, I also needed a job where no one was really going to pay me much attention unless it was for customer or worker assistance.
After all, I was at the center of two of Gotham's many mysteries in the world of law and crime...
The Davis Family Cold Case...
And the identity of the Joker's Daughter...
Given how one revolved around the death of my family and the other around me and the Joker, I didn't want the eyes of Gotham on me right now when I'm trying to lay low. It would just drive me insane and that was the last thing I needed. Losing the last piece of myself to madness when I had already lost my innocence and someone I trusted. It would be like being dragged into the abyss to be punished for all eternity. That was something I knew I couldn't take...
By the time I had snapped out of my stupor, I was already in front of the grocery store. I stepped into the foyer and grabbed a cart from its storage area, next to the second set of automatic doors. Walking into the store, I was hit with an even colder shot of air than what was outside. It was almost akin to the faintest sensation of frostbite imaginable or being touched by Death. I silently shook it off and began my trek through the market. List in hand, I skimmed through the different names of items to plot out where in the many aisles to go.
Pancake Mix...
Milk...
Eggs...
Cereal...
Bread...
Chips...
Going through the list was easier said than done. Kiera had very specific brands or requirements for peculiar items, meaning they were in a different aisle, like organic or fat-free. It was honestly a bit of a migraine and just made the shopping trip longer than needed half the time. Especially with how my workplace organizes and arranges the goods. Honestly, Gotham was full of idiots, psychopaths and others who were a mix of both or something else.
But, it was the only home I had, so I have to deal with it. Not like I had the money, determination or energy to move anywhere else...
Plus, it was the last resting place of some of the most important people that were a part of my life...
Moving through the snack aisle, I made it into the water and energy drink section. As I looked across the shelves, I noticed further down the aisle was a young girl with light brown hair. She was attempting to reach a liter bottle of lemon-lime seltzer water high up. She was stubborn and persistent, I could tell. Given how she wasn't getting help from the staff or trying to use the lower shelf as a stepping stool.
Of course, I couldn't bear watching her struggle to reach. So, wanting to show some kindness, I walked up and reached to grab the bottle she seemed to be eyeballing. As I handed it to her, she glared up at me with hazel eyes. She then spoke up in a bit of a grumpy voice, "I did not need any help..."
I just snorted softly and replied back with, "Yeah, sure looked like you didn't need help."
The girl didn't say anything else after I said that. Not even a snarky remark or a grouchy insult. She just continued to stare at me as I walked off with my cart. I could feel her eyes on me as I turned into the next aisle.
For some reason, it didn't feel normal for a child that young to look that coldly at someone...
The rest of my grocery shopping went off like any average errand. No incidents, no run-ins with thugs or offenders, nothing. I just grabbed what was needed and put it in the carriage. Everything was normal... too normal...
To me, too much of anything always indicates something bad... or maybe I was just being paranoid...
Only one of the two options was possible... never both...
Pulling into an empty register, I started placing my items on the belt, along with the reusable bags I brought. I then trudged to the end and gave the kid my store card. A simple card with a barcode with the name of the store on the front.
Nothing too fancy or extravagant about it, unless you were a scammer...
The young cashier gave my bags to the equally-youthful bagger at the end before going through the order. As he scanned items through, he placed them on another belt, going towards the helper. Item after item went into the bag until all the whole purchase was secured with a few bags to spare. I looked at the final price and nearly gawked at it...
$231.56...
What the actual fuck? The grocery bill two weeks ago was almost half that! Me and Kiera were only two people and barely snacked on anything, unless it was to try some new things or for cravings. How the hell did it add up so quickly? All the coupons and savings were there, but goddamn, it was ridiculous!
Looking over the list I had, I realized that it was a lot longer than any list that me or Kiera had written before. Some of it was the usual, like our favorite quick meals of ramen and things for sandwiches, but the rest of it was different. I can't remember ever setting curry or the additional amount of produce on any previous lists. But, I grabbed them... without even thinking about it.
I'm gonna have to talk to Kiera about this...
Swiping my card and pressing a few buttons to finalize the purchase, I grabbed my receipt and the cart and pushed it towards the exit. As I passed by the five self-checkout lanes, I could see people struggling with the system, leaving an employee to come and help. One customer, a woman who just finished her purchase, grabbed the receipt and their bags, which seemed to be bottles of soda and juice. Just looking at the flimsy plastic of the bags, I could see that they were about to break at the seams. Just before I could issue a warning, the bags' bottom seams broke under the weight of the contents within.
"Oh, goddammit..." the voice of the woman muttered under her breath, kneeling down to pick up the fallen refreshments. Luckily, none of the plastic bottles broke on impact and sprayed their drink everywhere. However, I could sense the frustration coming off the woman at the mess next to the receipt dispenser. Looking through my bags, I manage to find the spare bags that weren't used for groceries. I pulled it out and looked at the redheaded woman before going over to her self-checkout station. Walking up to her carefully, I handed her the folded bag.
"Here. The plastic bags around here are garbage anyway." I said, also making a jab at my workplace for being so cheap with their usual bagging methods. I even let out a soft chuckle for what I had just said.
However, when the woman finally looked up, my heart leaped into my throat before hitting my stomach...
The woman I was helping was none other than the Police Commissioner, James Gordon's daughter, Barbara Gordon...
AKA... Batgirl...
I figured out who the Batfamily was a while back after doing some detective work of my own upon escaping Arkham Asylum. I still feel a little dumb for not seeing all the parallels, the huge red flags and the minor details that were sitting right in front of me. I was honestly both surprised and disappointed in myself upon finding out...
While I was nervous about being this close to Batgirl, I somehow managed to hide my surprise and anxiety decently well. I had mastered my resting bitch face during my time with the Joker, way before I met Jason. Back then, It took very little to no time and effort to see me without it. However, now, it took quite a bit of more effort to even get me to smile.
"Thanks!" Barbara's response to my act of kindness and her grabbing the bag broke me out of my thoughts. She took the bag and started putting her items into it, to which I then kneeled down to help her out. Liter after liter of soda went into the grocery bag, fitting all six bottles that were originally two to one double-plastic bag.
"No problem. It's true though. The plastic bags here are super flimsy." I said, reiterating my previous statement.
"Oh, yeah. I've had my fair share of bags breaking on me and my dad while we go shopping." Barbara laughed, bringing the bag over her shoulder. I snorted slightly at her comment, realizing that me and other customers weren't alone. She spoke up again, "But, thank you, again, for your help."
"Hey, no problem. Just wanted to help..." With that, I nodded at her in assurance and walked back over to my cart. As I turned to look back at the checkout zone, Barbara had already headed towards the entryway. I then let out a quiet sigh of relief, having held my breath for too long upon seeing her face.
I was so relieved that she didn't recognize me upon first seeing me. Of course, there was the fact that Joker forced me to wear my gas mask out in public to hide my true identity. But, I was almost certain that looking at my eyes would've triggered some kind of recognition. Triggered some form of memory or mental image in her head for a split second. Hell, even Batman himself should've been able to figure me out a long time ago. But, I guess not...
I mean, he couldn't even find Jason after he was kidnapped...
And I found him a month after his disappearance, thanks to the Joker bringing me to Arkham... Something I didn't think would happen...
People call him the world's greatest detective... when he couldn't check the abandoned wings of Arkham Asylum, either to just be thorough or to check for something he might've missed. Better yet, he couldn't even kill the Joker for all the horrible shit he had done, including taking and torturing Jason, who once viewed him as a father figure. Believe me, I came very close to going apeshit on Joker a few times while trapped in Arkham for that year. But, I would be stopped by the cell door slamming in my face or being hit with a blunt object.
Regardless, I wasn't too thrilled with how the Dark Knight handled the situation, especially when it revolved around someone he took in. But, while I did blame Bruce for not searching harder, I also blamed myself for not being strong enough and quick enough to save Jason.
I know, it was a very strange and confusing thought process, but a person's mind can be a complex thing to figure out...
Either way, I just hope that I can set things right once I have all the tools and resources necessary in order to do it...
I would do what the Bat refused to do... Take down the criminals and bad guys who show no fear... the ones that show no remorse...
And no one's going to stop me...
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Yay! Chapter One is finally out!
Now, before I do a Chapter on Batman and his family, I'm gonna do one more chapter on Erica and introducing some two more characters. Plus, this chapter was meant to be a lot longer than it is now. So, Chapter Two is going to continue on from this one.
Also, expect two more original character files after the second chapter.
Hope you enjoyed this!
Bye!~
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