Post by lizity on Nov 11, 2012 19:30:53 GMT -5
Going to Hub City had been… eye opening in a lot of ways. She learned a lot about herself as Huntress. She learned how far she could push herself and how far she could be pushed before she hit that edge she wasn’t willing to fall over again. She’d killed a man that she’d loved to protect another one that she’d loved… or was in love with. That was one of the things she hadn’t been able to sort out while she was in the city. Vic didn’t exactly help in that department either.
She still had strange dreams about the night that she’d killed Travis and sometimes about everything that lead up to that point. It was a long road that had started when she was eight and she wasn’t sure it had even ended yet… No she knew it hadn’t ended yet. A part of herself doubted that it ever would. The part of herself that had wanted to believe that he was going to change, that he’d push back against the mob had died along with him. It had given way to harden her resolve against getting the mob out of Gotham though. That was why she was back in Gotham now.
Enough time had passed that the police wouldn’t be actively looking for her. She was sure they still had questions about what had happened at her apartment and of course where she was the night her ex-fiancée had died. She had her story straight about it all and when the time came she’d even have everything she needed to back it up. She might have deserved to go to jail but she wasn’t going to hand herself over to the cops either.
She’d stopped at Wayne Manor and talked to Alfred for a while before he’d offered her a room. She accepted the offer for at least the night. She wasn’t sure how Bruce would take to her being back. They’d never actually talked about things between them. They’d had their moments but when it came time to talk about things… well, they hadn’t exactly made the time. Neither of them were exactly good at expressing themselves other than throwing a punch.
Alfred had taken her bags, all but one, up to her room and then showed her down where she could change and gear out. If she’d known Bruce had all these toys she would have made him share. It didn’t take her long to change into her gear and barrow a bike before heading out into the city.
She felt a lot more natural in her gear now. It was easier to move and ignore the things strapped to her legs and her belt. It had taken her more time than she liked but she was comfortable in the persona. Vic had helped with that too.
Before she knew it she was sitting on the roof of an old church she’d gotten attached too. The architecture left shadows for her to hide and wait, watching for his figure. Alfred had said in passing that he often passed over the church on his way through the city.
~~
The twisted face of a gargoyle jutted out from the building, its stone claws dug into the building it sat upon glaring gloomily over Gotham. The breeze stirred his cape, one leg propped up on the gargoyle's head the other on its body. He looked out over the city he had so often claimed as his own, though of late he'd been lax in his disapproval of other heroes traipsing about. True, he had summoned Oliver and he'd kept an eye on his progress, what little he had made.
The cult stayed elusive, causing him no end of frustration as each would swallow a cyanide pill before they would talk. One had leaped to his death from the peak of a skyscraper, that hadn't been pretty, but Bruce had merely looked over the lip of the building before turning away and moving on to the next lead, of which there were but a precious few.
he had changed since Helena had left, there was a hardness there where before there had been none. Bruce had his own demons, his own closet full of skeletons. Each one weighed on the Dark Knight's mind, ever struggling to walk the thin edge of the razor. There were times he wasn't sure that his morality did anything but enable tot he crime he put his life at risk to prevent and if he let the darkness creep into his soul as it had started? Then he was no better than they.. And yet, despite the futility of it all, he couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. No matter how battered and beaten he dragged his body home in. Alfred had given up pleading his case, begging the man he had helped raise to put the Bat behind him.. .
A sane man would have done that. A sane man never would have put on a bat inspired costume and lept off tall buildings to swing across gaping streets as wide as the red sea.
Helena. Her face, her memory, her scent they lingered there in the recesses of his mind and the harder he tried to forget the more persistent it became. Bruce hadn't contacted her, knew that shouldn't, if only to ensure her safety from the police. it was the first time he had ever let a 'criminal' walk free, more been complicit in their escape. But he was no angel, Bruce held no such illusions.
A blipping sound came from his belt and he took the tracking device from its hidden pocket, looking at its HUD, he could tell one of his bat inspired vehicles was on the move. A deep frown creased his face, who? How? Perhaps he would just have to find out.
He tucked the tracking device away and pulled the propelled grappling hook from his side. It hissed as it shot from the handle, its rope twisting in the free space as it traveled across the street to plunge deep into the concrete of the building across the street. He jumped.
The cold autumn wind stung as he swung, moving unseen between buildings. The feeling was natural, comfortable, like a pair of old jeans. He merely followed the motions, it never occurred to him, now, that he might fall to his death. His boots hit the neighboring building, loose debris skittering across its surface as he landed. Bruce checked the tracking device again, ensuring that he was on top of his target. he watched as a shadowed figured walked the motorcycle into a shadowed alley and began bounding up the side of the building with inhuman agility.
When she reached the top Batman was standing right at the lip above her, as Huntress pulled her head over the ledge she would get an eye full of a stern looking Batman looking down at her.
"You should have called." He said gruffly, turning away his black cape swaying with his movements. His eyes had been hidden behind the cowl, faintly glowing pools of white light. "it's not safe for you." he stated with a grit in his tone that hadn't been there last she had seen him.
"Surprises. I don't like surprises." And yet... He wasn't telling her to leave, so far, he was perhaps taking it better than she might have expected.
~~
It wasn’t the welcome that she was expecting. She’d left on good terms with him. They’d decided that it was the best thing for her to do. She had expected him to say it wasn’t safe for her but the roughness in his voice, the tight line of his shoulders and the decisive glare in his eyes before he’d turned made her frown and go instantly to the defensive. So many old habits had come back to her while she’d been gone, this was just one of them.
She crossed her arms as she stood on the side of the roof, the wind picking up the edges of her cloak, making them curl around her legs, the only movement in her body now. She stared at him, brow furrowed deeply under her mask as she weighed her words for once instead of barking out the first thing that snapped to her tongue.
Making herself outwardly relax she hooked her thumbs on her belt. Inside was a different story. Months of living in Hub City had honed her habit of being forever on guard. Vic had told her she just didn’t know how to relax. Maybe it was true but it was a survival skill too.
“I’m not hiding forever. I’m not going to pretend to be some made up woman either. My name is important to me.” Just like his was to him but she didn’t say that. “I’ll deal with the cops in a few days.” Probably after she settled into a hotel seeing as she was doubting the invitation to stay the night was going to be extended… She was also doubting she wanted to stay.
The warmth that had been rising in her at the thought of seeing him again had cool now into a blue fire. One that burned out of anger, one that she’d been told was going to consume her completely someday if she didn’t learn how to let it go. But that was a problem for another time.
“Everyone needs a surprise once in a while. Besides, if I had called you’d have told me to stay away and I would have come anyway.”
~~
"You're damn right I would have told you to stay away" Bruce snapped testily, turning back to face her. His jaw was set, mouth turned into a frown. "This isn't a game, Helena, you're a suspect in a murder. I told you not to go after revenge, not like that." And he had. Had the price she paid been worth the death of her former fiance? There were too many ghosts in Gotham and each one seemed to want to haunt him.
"You wouldn't listen." She was as stubborn as a mule. Some might accuse him of the same. that's different he thought silently to himself is it? his conscience asked back. he didn't have an answer. Part of him wanted to embrace her, to let the feeling that threatened to crawl up into his throat loose and pull her into his arms... But he didn't. he said nothing at her claim that she would deal with the police, he regarded her long and hard, a silence thick, palatable between them. Bruce cut it like a pair of sheers through the branch of a thick tree.
I'm happy to see you he wanted to say, I missed you but the words wouldn't come. He had worked so hard to push all of that away, to lock it in some deep, dark crevice in his mind. Her cloak stirred about her ankles, Helena looking nearly as displeased as he was.
"No. Stay at the house." he said finally, seeming to relent. She was here, now, there was nothing he could do about that. What was done was done. Perhaps it was the sight of her int hat costume that inflamed him more than anything. It had been Huntress who drove Helena Bertinelli to become what she was now. Bruce had never told her, and it was the guilt of it that made him defensive and taciturn, he had intentionally failed to mention that Salvatore Punchinello had survived his wounds. He was no longer Don, that much had been done at least, his injuries had been too great and his position had been shaken, there was a new boss in Gotham. This one proved less homicidal than Punchinello, but no less of a criminal. He answered to her claim that everyone needed a surprise.
"I.." he started haltingly... "I want you to stay..." he finished before adding "with me."
That small gesture had been hard enough to express, the things that he wanted to say and do wanted to boil over and spill over the lip of the pot that had become his life. Self contained in stainless steel. Her appearance shook him in ways she couldn't imagine. it was easier with her gone, easier to allow himself to believe she had gone back to a normal life and would forget all the things that had happened in Gotham. That obviously hadn't happened. his jaw relaxed and let out a deep breath.
"its... Good to see you." he said, though not without adding "Even if it is in that costume." he hoped, futily, that she might never wear it again.
~~
“I know it’s not a game.” She said with more patience than she thought she had. “And I’m not pretending that everything is just going to blow over. I’m going to take care of it. A friend helped me get some things together.” It was all forged, another lie in a long line of them it felt like, but it would make the cops look in other places.
“Yes you did tell me not to do it and no I didn’t listen but those were my choices. It’s my sin to deal with, not yours so don’t take your anger about it out on me.” She snapped back at him, her hands dropping from her belt to her sides, balled into fists as she took a step toward him. He wasn’t that much taller than her but he’d always been an intimidating figure but her shield of anger protected her like it always had.
Her eyes narrowed as he told her to stay at the house like some petulant child. That alone made her want to go pick up her bags and find a hotel the moment she got back there. His words always hit her as orders, even when he was out of the mask. Batman lived in Bruce Wayne but she was beginning to doubt that Bruce Wayne lived in Batman.
She started to open her mouth to tell him she’d stay where she damn well pleased before his admission and she stopped, closing her opened mouth. She looked down and away, giving a single nod, not trusting herself to speak because of the words that were bottled up in her throat.
“I missed you.” She said but they weren’t the words she’d meant to say. Somehow the thoughts in her head and the ones she wanted to verbalized switched and left her staring up at him with wide blue eyes. “Oh damn it.” She muttered and took the step that separated them, her gloved hands reaching up to slid along the sides of his neck as she pressed her mouth against his. She kissed him hard and deep with months of pent up unresolved feelings she’d been left wondering about. She kissed him like she hadn’t breathed since the night she’d left Gotham and left him behind and melted into his body. Only when she truly did need to breath did she drew back to look up at him, half dazed from the kiss and her guts to do it in the first place.
“Better get used to the costume. I’m not stopping.”
~~
"i mi.." I missed you too Bruce had started to say before she silenced him with her lips. He didn't flinch nor turn away, it might have been what was best for both of them but his resolve had failed him as soon as he had seen her climbing the side of the building. Bruce had always known he wouldn't make her leave, deep down, he wanted her, as he always had. His gloved hand cupped her chin as they embraced. Whens he pulled away the same hand brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. he said nothing, he was terrible at talk. But words were just words and he had always been a man whose actions spoke much louder.
"I gave up trying to make you do what I want when we were children" he explained with a brief, ghost of a smile. His forehead touching hers. His arm slid around her waist, holding Helena to him. Batman was gone for that brief moment and there was only a man in a costume. "But sometimes it pays to try anyway." Bruce finished, kissing at the nape of her neck, his stubbled chin scratching against it, her scent filling his nose.
"We should go. Alfred will be waiting with tea" and you know how he gets when we're late for tea he might have said in jest, but didn't, words seemed petty and jokes empty. "I told him I wouldn't press myself too hard. He worries too much. All the same, I hate to keep him waiting." But that was what he always said after receiving a punishing beating. His body was bruised and battered, littered with scars of varying size and length. Bruce had never noticed them until Alfred pointed them out and lectured him on recklessness.
She still had strange dreams about the night that she’d killed Travis and sometimes about everything that lead up to that point. It was a long road that had started when she was eight and she wasn’t sure it had even ended yet… No she knew it hadn’t ended yet. A part of herself doubted that it ever would. The part of herself that had wanted to believe that he was going to change, that he’d push back against the mob had died along with him. It had given way to harden her resolve against getting the mob out of Gotham though. That was why she was back in Gotham now.
Enough time had passed that the police wouldn’t be actively looking for her. She was sure they still had questions about what had happened at her apartment and of course where she was the night her ex-fiancée had died. She had her story straight about it all and when the time came she’d even have everything she needed to back it up. She might have deserved to go to jail but she wasn’t going to hand herself over to the cops either.
She’d stopped at Wayne Manor and talked to Alfred for a while before he’d offered her a room. She accepted the offer for at least the night. She wasn’t sure how Bruce would take to her being back. They’d never actually talked about things between them. They’d had their moments but when it came time to talk about things… well, they hadn’t exactly made the time. Neither of them were exactly good at expressing themselves other than throwing a punch.
Alfred had taken her bags, all but one, up to her room and then showed her down where she could change and gear out. If she’d known Bruce had all these toys she would have made him share. It didn’t take her long to change into her gear and barrow a bike before heading out into the city.
She felt a lot more natural in her gear now. It was easier to move and ignore the things strapped to her legs and her belt. It had taken her more time than she liked but she was comfortable in the persona. Vic had helped with that too.
Before she knew it she was sitting on the roof of an old church she’d gotten attached too. The architecture left shadows for her to hide and wait, watching for his figure. Alfred had said in passing that he often passed over the church on his way through the city.
~~
The twisted face of a gargoyle jutted out from the building, its stone claws dug into the building it sat upon glaring gloomily over Gotham. The breeze stirred his cape, one leg propped up on the gargoyle's head the other on its body. He looked out over the city he had so often claimed as his own, though of late he'd been lax in his disapproval of other heroes traipsing about. True, he had summoned Oliver and he'd kept an eye on his progress, what little he had made.
The cult stayed elusive, causing him no end of frustration as each would swallow a cyanide pill before they would talk. One had leaped to his death from the peak of a skyscraper, that hadn't been pretty, but Bruce had merely looked over the lip of the building before turning away and moving on to the next lead, of which there were but a precious few.
he had changed since Helena had left, there was a hardness there where before there had been none. Bruce had his own demons, his own closet full of skeletons. Each one weighed on the Dark Knight's mind, ever struggling to walk the thin edge of the razor. There were times he wasn't sure that his morality did anything but enable tot he crime he put his life at risk to prevent and if he let the darkness creep into his soul as it had started? Then he was no better than they.. And yet, despite the futility of it all, he couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. No matter how battered and beaten he dragged his body home in. Alfred had given up pleading his case, begging the man he had helped raise to put the Bat behind him.. .
A sane man would have done that. A sane man never would have put on a bat inspired costume and lept off tall buildings to swing across gaping streets as wide as the red sea.
Helena. Her face, her memory, her scent they lingered there in the recesses of his mind and the harder he tried to forget the more persistent it became. Bruce hadn't contacted her, knew that shouldn't, if only to ensure her safety from the police. it was the first time he had ever let a 'criminal' walk free, more been complicit in their escape. But he was no angel, Bruce held no such illusions.
A blipping sound came from his belt and he took the tracking device from its hidden pocket, looking at its HUD, he could tell one of his bat inspired vehicles was on the move. A deep frown creased his face, who? How? Perhaps he would just have to find out.
He tucked the tracking device away and pulled the propelled grappling hook from his side. It hissed as it shot from the handle, its rope twisting in the free space as it traveled across the street to plunge deep into the concrete of the building across the street. He jumped.
The cold autumn wind stung as he swung, moving unseen between buildings. The feeling was natural, comfortable, like a pair of old jeans. He merely followed the motions, it never occurred to him, now, that he might fall to his death. His boots hit the neighboring building, loose debris skittering across its surface as he landed. Bruce checked the tracking device again, ensuring that he was on top of his target. he watched as a shadowed figured walked the motorcycle into a shadowed alley and began bounding up the side of the building with inhuman agility.
When she reached the top Batman was standing right at the lip above her, as Huntress pulled her head over the ledge she would get an eye full of a stern looking Batman looking down at her.
"You should have called." He said gruffly, turning away his black cape swaying with his movements. His eyes had been hidden behind the cowl, faintly glowing pools of white light. "it's not safe for you." he stated with a grit in his tone that hadn't been there last she had seen him.
"Surprises. I don't like surprises." And yet... He wasn't telling her to leave, so far, he was perhaps taking it better than she might have expected.
~~
It wasn’t the welcome that she was expecting. She’d left on good terms with him. They’d decided that it was the best thing for her to do. She had expected him to say it wasn’t safe for her but the roughness in his voice, the tight line of his shoulders and the decisive glare in his eyes before he’d turned made her frown and go instantly to the defensive. So many old habits had come back to her while she’d been gone, this was just one of them.
She crossed her arms as she stood on the side of the roof, the wind picking up the edges of her cloak, making them curl around her legs, the only movement in her body now. She stared at him, brow furrowed deeply under her mask as she weighed her words for once instead of barking out the first thing that snapped to her tongue.
Making herself outwardly relax she hooked her thumbs on her belt. Inside was a different story. Months of living in Hub City had honed her habit of being forever on guard. Vic had told her she just didn’t know how to relax. Maybe it was true but it was a survival skill too.
“I’m not hiding forever. I’m not going to pretend to be some made up woman either. My name is important to me.” Just like his was to him but she didn’t say that. “I’ll deal with the cops in a few days.” Probably after she settled into a hotel seeing as she was doubting the invitation to stay the night was going to be extended… She was also doubting she wanted to stay.
The warmth that had been rising in her at the thought of seeing him again had cool now into a blue fire. One that burned out of anger, one that she’d been told was going to consume her completely someday if she didn’t learn how to let it go. But that was a problem for another time.
“Everyone needs a surprise once in a while. Besides, if I had called you’d have told me to stay away and I would have come anyway.”
~~
"You're damn right I would have told you to stay away" Bruce snapped testily, turning back to face her. His jaw was set, mouth turned into a frown. "This isn't a game, Helena, you're a suspect in a murder. I told you not to go after revenge, not like that." And he had. Had the price she paid been worth the death of her former fiance? There were too many ghosts in Gotham and each one seemed to want to haunt him.
"You wouldn't listen." She was as stubborn as a mule. Some might accuse him of the same. that's different he thought silently to himself is it? his conscience asked back. he didn't have an answer. Part of him wanted to embrace her, to let the feeling that threatened to crawl up into his throat loose and pull her into his arms... But he didn't. he said nothing at her claim that she would deal with the police, he regarded her long and hard, a silence thick, palatable between them. Bruce cut it like a pair of sheers through the branch of a thick tree.
I'm happy to see you he wanted to say, I missed you but the words wouldn't come. He had worked so hard to push all of that away, to lock it in some deep, dark crevice in his mind. Her cloak stirred about her ankles, Helena looking nearly as displeased as he was.
"No. Stay at the house." he said finally, seeming to relent. She was here, now, there was nothing he could do about that. What was done was done. Perhaps it was the sight of her int hat costume that inflamed him more than anything. It had been Huntress who drove Helena Bertinelli to become what she was now. Bruce had never told her, and it was the guilt of it that made him defensive and taciturn, he had intentionally failed to mention that Salvatore Punchinello had survived his wounds. He was no longer Don, that much had been done at least, his injuries had been too great and his position had been shaken, there was a new boss in Gotham. This one proved less homicidal than Punchinello, but no less of a criminal. He answered to her claim that everyone needed a surprise.
"I.." he started haltingly... "I want you to stay..." he finished before adding "with me."
That small gesture had been hard enough to express, the things that he wanted to say and do wanted to boil over and spill over the lip of the pot that had become his life. Self contained in stainless steel. Her appearance shook him in ways she couldn't imagine. it was easier with her gone, easier to allow himself to believe she had gone back to a normal life and would forget all the things that had happened in Gotham. That obviously hadn't happened. his jaw relaxed and let out a deep breath.
"its... Good to see you." he said, though not without adding "Even if it is in that costume." he hoped, futily, that she might never wear it again.
~~
“I know it’s not a game.” She said with more patience than she thought she had. “And I’m not pretending that everything is just going to blow over. I’m going to take care of it. A friend helped me get some things together.” It was all forged, another lie in a long line of them it felt like, but it would make the cops look in other places.
“Yes you did tell me not to do it and no I didn’t listen but those were my choices. It’s my sin to deal with, not yours so don’t take your anger about it out on me.” She snapped back at him, her hands dropping from her belt to her sides, balled into fists as she took a step toward him. He wasn’t that much taller than her but he’d always been an intimidating figure but her shield of anger protected her like it always had.
Her eyes narrowed as he told her to stay at the house like some petulant child. That alone made her want to go pick up her bags and find a hotel the moment she got back there. His words always hit her as orders, even when he was out of the mask. Batman lived in Bruce Wayne but she was beginning to doubt that Bruce Wayne lived in Batman.
She started to open her mouth to tell him she’d stay where she damn well pleased before his admission and she stopped, closing her opened mouth. She looked down and away, giving a single nod, not trusting herself to speak because of the words that were bottled up in her throat.
“I missed you.” She said but they weren’t the words she’d meant to say. Somehow the thoughts in her head and the ones she wanted to verbalized switched and left her staring up at him with wide blue eyes. “Oh damn it.” She muttered and took the step that separated them, her gloved hands reaching up to slid along the sides of his neck as she pressed her mouth against his. She kissed him hard and deep with months of pent up unresolved feelings she’d been left wondering about. She kissed him like she hadn’t breathed since the night she’d left Gotham and left him behind and melted into his body. Only when she truly did need to breath did she drew back to look up at him, half dazed from the kiss and her guts to do it in the first place.
“Better get used to the costume. I’m not stopping.”
~~
"i mi.." I missed you too Bruce had started to say before she silenced him with her lips. He didn't flinch nor turn away, it might have been what was best for both of them but his resolve had failed him as soon as he had seen her climbing the side of the building. Bruce had always known he wouldn't make her leave, deep down, he wanted her, as he always had. His gloved hand cupped her chin as they embraced. Whens he pulled away the same hand brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. he said nothing, he was terrible at talk. But words were just words and he had always been a man whose actions spoke much louder.
"I gave up trying to make you do what I want when we were children" he explained with a brief, ghost of a smile. His forehead touching hers. His arm slid around her waist, holding Helena to him. Batman was gone for that brief moment and there was only a man in a costume. "But sometimes it pays to try anyway." Bruce finished, kissing at the nape of her neck, his stubbled chin scratching against it, her scent filling his nose.
"We should go. Alfred will be waiting with tea" and you know how he gets when we're late for tea he might have said in jest, but didn't, words seemed petty and jokes empty. "I told him I wouldn't press myself too hard. He worries too much. All the same, I hate to keep him waiting." But that was what he always said after receiving a punishing beating. His body was bruised and battered, littered with scars of varying size and length. Bruce had never noticed them until Alfred pointed them out and lectured him on recklessness.