"I want to go back to a time before it was too late." -Unknown
WARNING: mentions of/attempted sexual assault
~~~~~~~~~~~
Walking back home with three bags of groceries in each hand is definitely a workout. But, while it got me some additional exercise, it was very tedious and annoying to do it on my own. I should've waited for Kiera to get home from work, instead of jumping head first in a task that was harder than it actually looked. It was times like this that I wish I wasn't so anxious and trigger-happy about being behind the wheel of a car. Sure, I had a motorcycle, but that was a little different from a car.
That and being in a car reminds me of the crash my real family was in...
I sighed softly, dismissing the thought as I breathed in cold late-autumn air...
While walking, I was able to muster enough strength to grab my infinity scarf and pull it over my head. It remained clenched tightly in my hand as I quickly turned several corners and moved into different alleyways. First, I went around street corners on sidewalks and alleys before finally going down a familiar alley that I used to avoid traffic on my motorcycle. Hey, I don't have the patience for obstacles, so I might as well come up with alternative paths.
I was never patient enough with traffic, especially when I was younger. Hence why I never drove anywhere with the Joker or any of his self-entitled, idiotic goons and gunmen. They always drove recklessly and with little regard for road or car safety. An additional reason was that I wanted to be away from him for as long as possible. Unless... he forced the issue by scaring me into submission and silence. But, even then and as I got older, I was allowed to walk in order to get from place to place.
However, you do have to be careful in these dark, filthy, and tight passages. Most criminals liked to hang out to jump people or camp out in the nearby buildings. Better yet, they use them to murder innocents and good, hardworking people. It was a perfect place for such dangerous hijinxs and rejections of humanity...
Secluded...
Dark...
Dirty...
Just far enough out of reach...
From everyone and everything...
Just like...
No...
I couldn't slip into a panic attack in the middle of a place like this. Any nearby muggers and offenders would take advantage of my vulnerability. They could strike me down in a senseless act of violence and bloodshed. They could kill, torture, or assault me in every horrible way possible and imaginable. Destroy me from the inside out until there was nothing left of me.
Just the sheer thought of it sent bile and my partly-digested coffee back up into my esophagus...
I was about halfway through the alley that led onto the main road... when I heard a faint whistle...
Turning my head just enough, I could see two men, one partially bald and the other blonde. One was leaning against a backdoor to an apartment building while his buddy was walking towards me. Both of them weren't very well-built, not muscular enough to do any lasting harm or damage. Just from their overconfident swagger as the blonde one walked towards me, I could tell that they were predators. They specifically target defenseless people who traveled alone and took what they wanted from them. From many stories I've heard and some of my close-call experiences, there are two things they want. They want control and to rob young people of their innocence to make them feel helpless...
However, unfortunately for them, I'm not that defenseless little kid from years ago, who was scared of her abusive excuse of a foster father...
Putting my bags down, the offender came towards me, his slender fingers tapping and crawling against my clothed shoulders. He then walked in front of me, his buddy standing behind me, about several feet away from where we were standing. He was obviously waiting for me to turn and try and run in the other direction of his friend. Of course, I knew better than to walk into an obvious trap, especially considering the last one I walked into.
Because, if anything, they were setting themselves up for failure...
Number one: Make sure you have a weapon on you. If not, improvise...
The scarf in my hands didn't look like much, but if used correctly, it could be a great and unique form of fighting off criminals and defending against unwanted attacks. It could also be used to choke someone or limit their oxygen flow just enough to render them unconscious.
Number two: Prolong the inevitable with small talk. Look for something on them and use it to throw them off or deceive them...
As I looked the man over, I noticed a distinctive tattoo on his neck, just behind his left ear. It was of a black widow spider spinning a web with its threads of silk. Kinda ironic that he has an insect, notorious for eating its male counterpart after mating, inked onto his skin. Perfect way to segway into a distracting conversation...
"Nice tat..." I said simply, trying to come off as naive and clueless. The man chuckled slightly and smirked wickedly, thinking he had me in his trap. A good thing to have your oppressor think they have you where they want you... it makes it all the more entertaining for when they get what's coming to them...
Number three: Make them confused or uncomfortable. It makes them vulnerable and easier to attack...
"Did you know that female black widows eat their mates after intercourse?" I asked, still keeping up the stoic but dumb facade. However, I did let a small smile curl slightly at my lips.
The man's face suddenly fell upon as he touched the marking on his neck. He then looked back to me in slight horror. Just by that look alone, he was now regretting ever getting it. Either that or he was thinking about what I had just told him, mulling it over in his head. Perhaps he failed that science class about insects and living organisms. By now, he was probably realizing what I was trying to convey with my veiled threat. Even now, I bet his buddy behind me was confused as to what was going on in front of him. Hell, for all I know, they probably still think I was some random dumb girl, spewing random facts, unaware of the danger I was in...
But that's the whole point...
Number four: Go in for the kill...
"Yeah, me either... until a few days ago..." I immediately wrapped my scarf around his neck before twisting the fabric tighter. I then brought him in front of my body, his fingers relentlessly clawing at the polyester sleeves of my cardigan. His face slowly turned red with all his efforts to breathe and get free. He began to jerk from side to side as a way to shake me off of him and make me lose my balance. I nearly rolled my ankles and tripped over my own feet with the effort.
"Hey! What'd ya think you're doin', lady?" the one at the back of the alley exclaimed upon seeing what I was doing. Sprinting towards me, he pulled a switchblade from his pants' pocket, ready to deliver a fatal blow.
With whatever strength and vigor I could muster, I used his friend's head in my grasp to upcut him in the chin. As the two connected, an audible CRACK of bones colliding sounded loudly between them. I could see a few teeth and blood erupting from his mouth as he was sent flying backward into the nearby brick wall. His blade slipped from his hand, hitting the concrete with a series of metallic clatters. Another cracking sound cut through the air as his partially-shaved head hit the bricks. Landing on his ass on the pavement, he clutched his mouth and jaw in pain with the other hand holding the back of his head.
With the backup taken care of, I then grabbed the offender wrapped in my scarf and rammed his head into the wall next to a dumpster. He immediately collapsed limply, and I removed my infinity scarf from his neck. Blood began to pool slowly from the top of his head and slid down towards the trash-ridden ground. While the sight of the crimson fluid did usually disgust me, knowing that it was coming from an abuser made it a little more bearable for me.
Peering off to the side, I saw that his friend had gotten back up and was gawking at me, terrified out of his mind. Streams of dark red poured from between his broken teeth and from his bruised and battered lips. He looked like a young deer in the highlights before getting hit by an oncoming truck. His stance almost screamed that he was about to run for it or finish what he had started before.
My blood boiling, I began to trek over him with the intent to have him either meet his maker or send him running for the hills. The sound of my heeled boots echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, almost sounding like a ticking bomb. I began to eye the dagger on the ground, thinking about the hundreds of threats and dangerous promises I could issue to him while holding the blade to his neck. The second offender started shuffling backward before finally turning around to run further down the alley. He got only a few paces in before a rod of metal was slammed aggressively into the side of his head.
As he stumbled to the ground unconscious, the fall revealed who his attacker was. It was the young girl I helped get the seltzer water for, a black katana in her hand. She then placed the sword onto a clip on her newly acquired backpack and began walking towards me.
"Although I am impressed that you used a common clothing item as a weapon, your timing was off, and your choice of footwear was a disaster, just waiting to happen." she said, her tone bordering robotic and stoic, so unlike what a normal eleven-year-old girl would sound like. Her greenish-hazel eyes were cold and hard, devoid and lost of any innocence, cheer or light.
Reminds me of when I was locked up in Arkham by Joker for eleven months...
What remained of my hope and wishful thinking was turned to dust and ash...
"Didn't know you were such an expert in self-defense, kiddo..." I hissed in pain due to the slight burn of my hands from my scarf rubbing against my skin.
"That's because I have seen, practiced, and wielded self-defense and combat, among other things. Hell, I could say I have breathed it most of my life." the girl replied with an equal amount of sass to match my quip.
'Breathed combat?' I thought, pausing what I was doing. 'This kid was old enough to be entering fourth or fifth grade!'
I mean, this could've been just a classic case of a kid being cocky. But, the way she said it, so cold, determined, and precise... kids don't speak that way. It's like she was an adult, yet wasn't at the same time...
"Who the hell are you, kid?" I asked, looking at the girl in bewilderment. I couldn't understand what was going on inside their head, but something about her was just too rigid and grim.
The girl smirked lightly as she looked at me knowingly, like I was left out of some big secret. I grew very anxious and antsy, wondering what she was going to do or say next. She then said something that made me aware of why she was here next to me at that moment...
"My name is Lillian Bruno. Your friend, Kiera, told me all about you... it's a pleasure to meet you... Erica Davis..."
This kid knew my name... my real name...
That statement alone made me realize that Kiera was trying to assemble a team to help me put an end to the Joker. Essentially, my own ass-kicking, crime-bashing team of hardened vigilantes and trained anti-heroes. People who can compete with or be equal enough in skill to Batman, his family, and many of Gotham's villains. Not that I planned to go toe-to-toe with the Dark Knight or his partners and sidekicks. I actually respected a few of them, including Barbara, Alfred, and Dick Grayson to a certain extent. The first two were mainly because of the stories that Jason used to tell me about them.
Lillian then walked past me and picked three of the grocery bags I had been carrying before the two goonies tried to pounce on me. Looking back at her in confusion, I began to question if her intentions were a little bit different than what she was letting on. I might be being paranoid and overly cautious of this child, but I couldn't be too careful. Being too anxious and on guard is better than being too relaxed and ignorant.
Glancing back at me, the girl gave me a look that screamed a near cheeky way of saying,'You coming or what?'. She then spoke in her monotone voice, which now had a light cocky tone, as she said, "Come on. The ice cream is going to melt and grow spoiled if we don't move now. Plus, Kiera owes you an explanation about how things are going to be from now on."
I walked over and grabbed the remaining bags, the weight now much more manageable than the six I was carrying by myself before. As we both walked out of the alley, I couldn't help but wonder what Kiera was planning. Why would she construct a team without telling me or even asking me about it? And for what? The last thing I wanted was more people getting involved in what I hoped to accomplish because it could mean life or death.
By life or death, I meant a life of punishment for the lesser criminals or death for the monsters with blood on their hands... Either that, or I die trying...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The remaining walk home was uneventful and tense, like how it was before the incident in the alley. Lillian, unsurprisingly, wasn't a very chatty or sociable kid, nor did she seem like she wanted to engage in a conversation. I was perfectly fine with it, considering the numerous questions floating around my head. I couldn't help but wonder if Kiera had a death wish or was just being careless. Why would she bring a child, an eleven-year-old girl, into what I had planned?
Walking towards the house, I could see Kiera's car parked in the driveway, which was under the overhead of the floor where my room was. It was a good thing, considering the things I wanted to ask and say to her. I moved the bag of groceries in my right hand over into my left hand, making it easier for me to pull out my house key. Grabbing my key from my back pocket, I quickly shoved the key into the knob and unlocked the front door. I sharply and forcefully shoved the entrance door, the shuffling of wood vibrating within the entryway. Once me and Lillian were inside, I locked the door and started heading upstairs to the second floor, which was the primary living space.
As I entered the kitchen and dining area, Kiera was taking out the dry, dead roses from Valentine's Day out of the vase on the kitchen island. She then started to place flowers in the colors and tones of spring in order to replace them. Everything from daffodils to tulips to sunflowers, adding life to the dull brick and concrete of our converted factory apartment. I know that Kiera was gonna use the withered roses for her spells and hexes, but I didn't mind. I just really hope that Aunt Ivy doesn't find out and try to kill her in the future.
"Ahh, you're back from the store... and... I see you've met Lillian..." Kiera said with light glee in her voice.
She seemed pretty satisfied with herself that I and this kid she recruited into whatever team she was putting together officially met. All I could do in the moment was give a glare that told her everything she needed to know. That was one of the things about Kiera that made her so helpful yet so infuriating to work with at times. She never really talked to you about anything important until the time is right or if it doesn't concern her. Sounds pretty suspicious, I know, but she saved my life, and that alone proves herself as trustworthy. Otherwise, I would've been dead a long time, and she would've gotten the million dollar prize from the clown...
"Yes, and two morons decided that they had a death wish and tried to mess around with her, and they learned the hard way not to. Though, I have to say, her movements need improvement..." Lillian snipped, placing her set of groceries on the counter. I then rolled my eyes sarcastically at the girl's condescending comment on my fighting abilities.
"Well, she is improving slowly, Lillian. Remember that." Kiera's tone was motherly and firm, like she was trying to talk the kid down gently. Kiera had only used that voice when I was in a state of distress from nightmares or panic attacks.
"Anyways, Lillian, all of your belongings are in the room above Erica and were brought in overnight. It's beyond those doors... just take the ladder up."
Lillian nodded wordlessly as she went through the double doors that led to my bedroom. I then heard the faintest sound of wood creaking, followed by silence. It began to unnerve me as it continued for moments longer than it should have. I then glared back at Kiera, whose smirk dropped due to my expression, "You know, glaring at me isn't going to resolve whatever problem you're having, Erica."
"You know exactly why I'm upset. Why in God's name would you bring a kid into this?! Do you have a death wish?"
"No, I don't have a death wish. You of all people should know that I don't do things just because I want to. I have reasons for doing things, and I'm not one to endanger people who aren't capable." Kiera insisted, trying to calm me down. But I wasn't having any of it...
"This kid isn't a soldier who shipped off to war. You know how I feel about that... especially considering mine and... someone else's experiences."
"I do, Erica. Just as well as you. I would never do something like that, not without explaining myself or giving you an explanation..."
"Then tell me... What's so special about this kid?" I could feel burning poison bubbling up into my guts. I was getting ready to spit it at Kiera for whatever vague reason or explanation she gave me.
Kiera took a deep breath before speaking carefully, "Lillian wasn't raised like a normal child with parents, Erica... She was raised and trained to be a weapon and tool by the League of Assassins."
Hearing that single name alone was enough to calm the toxic anger welling up within me. I only knew about the League and their actions from a few stories from Jason, originally told to him by Bruce. That knowledge was limited, but additional research let me know that they were highly dangerous and wanted to cleanse the world of evil by killing. Back then, I used to be terrified of them and what they could be capable of. But now, given what happened to me, I've grown to understand their good intentions, but also their twisted instructions...
"What?" Was all I could get out when the words touched my ears. The League of Assassins turning a young girl into a warrior and killer for their own devices? They must be truly insane or willing to do the cruelest things in order to get what they want...
"Lillian was born a bastard child... though her mother and father were very much in love. But the grandmother hated him and their relationship. She was a crazed, self-righteous bitch who saw her own daughter as nothing but her slave and her punching bag. Managed to get rid of him somehow... to keep him from 'stealing' her daughter away. Her mother gave birth alone and the grandmother took Lillian away. Sold her off to the League to pay off a debt of some kind. But the grandmother never returned home and Lillian's mother disappeared from the hospital after giving birth..."
"So, what specifically were they training her to do?" I questioned solemnly, wondering if there was more to Lillian's connection to the League.
"They didn't just train her to be a killer... They also trained her to be a doctor and to heal the wounded and sick of the League." Kiera answered with a serious tone.
I took a moment to process the brand new information I was just given. This girl was trained by one of the most dangerous, well-hidden and powerful forces in the world. They trained, mentored and molded her to become a medical reinforcement and a formable combatant. The perfect tool for fighting someone of Batman's strength, intelligence and experience. But, she was still a child and grooming her into a killer and nurse was still a horrible and disgusting act. Maybe that was my past experience talking, but a part of me wanted to ensure that the League paid for what they did to her.
"So why is she here in Gotham? I really hope it's not because the League sent her here on a mission..." I hissed with a dagger's edge to my voice, only imagining what kind of sick assignment these so-called warriors for peace have set her on. I was already planning on how to give the League of Assassins my worst.
"No, not really... She has been... benched, so to speak..." Kiera said, unsure of her chosen vocabulary.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked as I felt like 'benched' wasn't really the right word to describe Lillian's current situation. The League of Assassins has never been known for going easy on their warriors and assassins when they fail or disobey an order. It didn't matter to them how old and how skilled and infallible their talented brethren were. If an order is disobeyed or not followed through, the punishment was much harsher and likely much more permanent than temporary expulsion.
"Well, certain attachments aren't allowed in the League. An operation like theirs has no room for error nor for anything that could cloud their focus... Lillian had developed a friendship with a fellow student... and a rather important one of that. Enough to raise suspicion and doubt within their leader. Their teacher, The Demon's Daughter, found out about it and expelled her from the League, as she was too young to be, well... killed. The other student tried to vouch for and defend her, but was promptly shut down... "
"Crazy bitch..." I mumbled,
"Mmm, yes... and quite frankly, quite stupid enough to let go of a figure she trained so expertly in medicine. Lillian helped me after an attempted mugging after I closed my shop, while you were still at work. When the Demon's Daughter realized what she lost, she tried to get her back..." I could assume what happened next, based on the smirk that Kiera's face now bore.
"What did you do?" I questioned, barely able to contain the slight smirk now coming onto my face.
Kiera continued to smirk and gave a small chuckle before answering, "I told her that if she wanted Lillian to go back, she would have to wait until we killed the Joker. I stated we would need her skills and assistance in getting rid of him and his influence on this city. Needless to say, it made her angry at first... until I mentioned your mission to destroy the Joker."
The smirk was instantly wiped from my face when she said that as my temper rose, "You told Tali al Ghul everything?!"
"It was for good reason, Erica. Apparently, he is a prime target of the League and is considered the epitome of who they wish to eliminate. So, we struck a deal... Lillian can stay with us and help you take down the Clown. Once that happens, she is to return to the League, her honor restored."
There was something in Kiera's teal eyes that couldn't quite see or understand what it was. It almost seemed like a glimmer of mischief and hidden intent, but I couldn't really tell. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to ask what she was thinking about...
"Anyway, the package has arrived. I had to make a few calls, though, to our loaner. A few of the components and pieces aren't finished yet, but the more important items are done. And, if you want, you can test it out tonight..."
My whole body nearly froze at the sudden mention of a 'package'. I knew what she was talking about, but I was surprised when she told me that it just got here. If it was here, then that must mean...
"It's in your room..." Kiera finally confirmed where these items were placed after it was delivered.
With anticipation slowly ascending within me, I moved over to the wooden doors that led to my bedroom. As I pushed open the near gate-like openings, the first thing I saw was a large silver briefcase. It almost tempted me towards it, like a precious and long-awaited treasure waiting to be unlocked. It was untouched and still closed and sealed as it sat on the top of the edge of my bed. But, what I found strange was the lack of an attempted theft...
I walked over to the metallic case and kneeled in front of it, my hands on the latches. The surface of the locks were cold and harsh against my already freezing hands, numbing the pads of my fingers. As I grasped the clips, I held my breath and felt a lump forming in my throat. With a swift flick of my wrists, I released the latches and allowed my hands to slowly open the case. My eyes widened in marvel at what was inside, a small gasp coming from my mouth as I fought back a smile.
Sitting atop the folded heap of white and silver tactical material, a white mask with a light brown dusting of paint lay untouched. The molding of the mask wasn't the plain and typical domino style mask that Robin and Nightwing wear. It was methodically structured and carefully textured to look like the protruding feathers of a bird. The dry brush of brown paint gave the mask a more picturesque look and a sense of realism. It almost looked like the face of a real Sparrow...
Putting the mask to the side, I moved on to the folded heap of what I knew was the main bodysuit. The ivory material was purposely weaved to deflect bullets and other projectiles, such as debris and ball bearings. The breastplate was tailored to my size and the shape of my torso, protecting my body from impending impact or potential damage. The matching hood rested against the cylindrical shelled collar and the armored back of the costume. The shoulders and elbows were doubly padded for extra protection and injury prevention.
I could barely contain the breathless laugh that came out of my mouth. To think that nearly four months ago, I was terrified to step out of the apartment alone at night. Fearful that Joker's goons or even Harley Quinn were out there, looking for me in order to bring me back to that hellhole. Whether it was to gain the clown's favor or to get a juicy bonus or raise for their efforts, I may never know nor do I care to know. Now, I have a chance to do the one thing that Jason was unable to do and that Batman refused to do...
Take down the Joker and remove the supervillains' grip from this city that many people called their home...
I looked behind me towards my desk, where a framed picture of me and Jason stood. In the photo, Jason was sitting on a wall of layered stone while I was standing in front of him. He had his arms wrapped around my shoulders, the two of us laughing and smiling like idiots. It was one of my favorite pictures of us together and one of the few photos I had of us. Behind the photo, a small vase of various flowers loomed over it, adding life to the display. Specifically, a small assortment of black-eyed Susans, pink camellias and purple hyacinths.
Walking up to the desk, I picked up the picture and rested my hand on the glass over top of the image. My eyes grew misty and puffy as I stared at the picture, allowing buckets of memories to flood my mind. Nostalgia filled my bones and muscles as tears and sobs threatened to pour down my face.
"Tonight's the night, Jason. I'm that much closer to finally taking Joker down. I'm that much closer to avenging you... to avenging us... to avenging all who Joker killed, maimed and left alive in horrible pain. He'll be meeting his maker before he can even choke on his final laugh... I promise."
Tonight, the Sparrow will be born and she will do what the Bat will never do...
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey, guys!
Sorry this took so long to finish! College, work and personal stuff has been kicking me in the ass! But luckily I had finished it now and I'm starting work on Chapter Three!
Also, I know I've already done this, but...
Rest in Peace, Kevin Conroy, the legend behind the Dark Knight... May you soar like the Batman you brought to life!
Thank you and bye!
~~~~~~~~~~~