Rian arrived to World Literature earlier the next day, hoping to catch Jason before class started. She needed to explain why she never messaged him, and share the first draft of her article with him. She was excited to have finished it, and couldnât think of anyone better to share her hard work with. Or anyone at all. Riley would never want to read her work, and she fell out of touch with her almost all of friends and family over the past year.
Jason walked in with Rachel and Chelsea, the trio laughing at some joke. Rian felt a pang of jealousy watching Chelsea and Rachel take their usual seats. She wanted to have friends again, to have people to laugh with. She missed being part of a group, and she felt completely isolated from everyone.
Jason was slightly shocked to see her sitting in the seat directly to the left of his, instead of the seat against the wall. She gave him a small smile, and he returned the gesture with one of his lopsided grins. He looked at her questioningly as he took his seat, one eyebrow cocked as she turned to look at him.
âI have it.â Her smile grew wider as she reached into her bag to pull out her finished article. âI was going to text you butâŠâ She bit her lip nervously. âMy notebook got kind of destroyed, and I lost your number.â Jason eyed her notebook, but didnât comment on its pristine condition. âHereâs the first draft of my article, if you still want to read it. Itâs fine if you donât, itâs kind of a strange topic and allâŠâ She trailed off, holding the piece of paper in her hand for him.
She felt beyond stupid. She never should have brought it up. Of course he didnât want to-
His smile grew as his blue eyes flickered to the paper, taking it carefully in his hand.
âI would love to read your article.â
âAny comments or criticisms are welcome.â She added quickly, internal relief washing over her form. Maybe this wasnât stupid after all. âItâs just a first draft, so it isnât perfect. Just donât be too harsh, okay?â
âIâm sure itâs good.â Jason brushed off her concern, giving her a reassuring smile as Dr. Cortez entered the room. âCan we read it after class?â
âWe?â Rian ask, cocking her head to one side. Her heart sank when she realized he probably meant Rachel and Chelsea. She definitely didnât want either of them to read her work; it look a lot of internal struggling to even print a copy for Jason to read.
âYeah, you and me. Can we go somewhere so I can read it?â Rian's heart rate sped up without her consent. He wanted to spend time with her. âAnd then I can give you feedback right away. And maybe give you my number again.â He added that last part cautiously, watching her carefully as class began.
âSounds like a date.â She smiled, answering before she could formulate a coherent thought, and once she said it she couldnât take it back.
Class started before Jason could respond to her, and that made her nerves return. Little did she know there was a small smile tugging at the corners of Jasonâs mouth, because he finally found the confirmation he was looking for.
Jason
Jason read the article in his hands for the third time, his eyes dancing over the words. It was short, only one and a half pages, but it really packed a punch. Rian was an incredible writer, and the article was nothing short of brilliant. It was persuasive without being outright biased, and it covered a lot of information in such few words. It was very articulate, and Jason would be surprised if the Gotham Chronicle rejected it. Hell, he would probably storm their office as the Red Hood if they rejected it.
âSo?â Rian asked from her seat across from Jason. They were tucked away in a far corner of the library, hidden from the prying eyes of other students. âWhat do you think?â
âThis is your first draft?â He asked incredulously. She nodded, and Jason could tell she was nervous with his reaction. Unsure. âThis is probably the best piece of writing Iâve ever read about vigilantes in Gotham.â
âThere arenât a lot of articles about vigilantes in Gotham, is that why?â Rian joked, rolling her eyes playfully.
âNo, seriously.â Jason nodded with enthusiasm. âThis is a really well-written, well-thought out, well-everything piece. I would be very surprised if this isnât published.â
A small blush crept up her face at Jasonâs declaration. He beamed back at her, his eyes skimming the article once again.
âI want to give you something constructive, something to make it stronger because thatâs actually helpful, but I canât find anything. This is really well-rounded.â
âI needed to hear that.â She smiled. âThank you.â
âAnytime.â Jason meant it. The more time he spent with Rian, the most complete he felt. Her presence both calmed and excited him, if that was even possible. He desperately wanted to ask her about her relationship, to ask her about the boyfriend that he knew she had, but he couldnât bring himself to do it. He felt a spark with her, and he was almost certain she did too. But not certain enough to ask. âYouâre a really talented writer. Why donât you join the paper here on campus? It isnât the same as the Chronicle, but you could easily be Editor-in-Chief or lead writer or whatever it is. Youâre good.â
âI thought about it.â She admitted shyly, looking down at her hands as she leaned into the table. âBut I donât have a lot of free time, and I canât be out too late, so it just wouldnât work out.â
âMakes sense.â Jason nodded slowly, eyes still trained on her. He knew she was hiding something because she wouldnât meet his gaze, but he didnât want to press her for a better explanation. She was entitled to her privacy.
âThis was fun, Jason.â She looked up, smiling at him. âBut I need to go. I canât be- late.â The smile dropped from her face as she gathered her belongings.
âDo you need a ride home?â Jason stood with her, eyes never leaving Rianâs face. He didn't admit he knew where she lived, he was hoping she would tell him so he could finally ask her about her relationship in 11F. âI really donât mind driving you if you need a ride.â
âI would say yes, butâŠâ She trailed off, eyes looking anywhere but Jason. He knew she usually called an Uber or walked. There was no reason for her to turn down his offer.
âBut?â He drawled, hoping she would give him some kind of an explanation.
âI- I have a boyfriend.â Rian finally answered after a long pause, meeting his eyes.
âAnd?â Jasonâs heart skipped a beat, but he worked hard to maintain his composure. âItâs just a ride. Itâll spare you the $15 it takes with an Uber.â He offered again, hoping to change her mind.
âHeâs kind of- controlling. I donât know if heâd let me.â She admitted, absentmindedly playing with the sleeves of her sweater.
âI can drop you off a block away from wherever you live. He wonât find out.â Jason offered again. He decided this would be the last time he pushed her for an answer. If she declined his invitation again, he would accept it and walk her outside to meet her car. He didnât want to scare her away, and she seemed like the type that might get scared easily.
âDo you know where Gibsonâs Coffee is?â She asked quietly, looking at Jason through her long eyelashes. He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to cradle her face in his hands and tell her how much he loved Gibsonâs. It was his favorite coffee shop in Gotham, and probably the world.
âKnow it? Thatâs my favorite coffee shop.â He smiled back, fighting back the urge to reach out to her. âYou live near there?â
âA few blocks away. You can drop me off there if you want.â
âDeal.â He nodded triumphantly, following Rian out of the library.
Jason gave her his helmet to wear, promising to deliver her to the coffee shop in one piece. After some slight protesting, Rian agreed to slip the black helmet over her head as she climbed onto the bike behind Jason. He would never admit it out loud, but he really liked seeing her in his helmet. Really really liked it.
He drove more carefully than usual, likely due to the pair of fragile arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He debated taking the long way to Gibsonâs, but didnât want his passenger to be too late getting home.
âSo, how was it?â He smirked at Rian as she slid off his ride, hoping she enjoyed the quick trip as much as he did.
âBetter than I expected.â She admitted, finger-combing her short hair as she returned his helmet.
âThatâs what we like to hear.â Jason beamed confidently. âI suppose you donât have time for a quick coffee break?â He looked at Rian hopefully, but knew she would likely decline his offer. âOr you could give me an I.O.U.? A raincheck?â
âA raincheck is good.â She nodded, the happy expression dropping from her face. âItâs not that I donât want to stay, I really do. I just- itâs complicated.â
Jason offered her a small smile as a sign of reassurance that there were no hurt feelings. He watched her give a small wave before walking away in the direction of her apartment building, or rather his apartment building.
She took a few steps before turning around, hurrying toward Jason. He froze as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a heartfelt hug. He returned the gesture, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. She fit perfectly against him, and he hoped she recognized that too.
Letting her go was the hardest thing he had to do all day, and it took everything in him not to follow after her the second time. He wanted to hold her face in his hands and ask her about all her favorite books. Press his lips gently to hers when she finished. He wanted her; craved her.
He ended his day praying to a god he didnât believe in that Rian felt the same strange pull to him that he did to her.
Trigger warning: Mentions of sexual coercion, mentions of abuse, cussing
2,601 words
Masterlist
Rian
Rianâs peaceful weekend seemed to end as quickly as it began. By the time Sunday night came around, she had accomplished everything she needed to the past two days; she finished reading a few books, caught up on her statistics homework, started her World Literature research paper, and she even began working on her first article for the Gotham Chronicle.
She were sitting at the kitchen table typing away at her laptop, her notebook lying open next to her on the small dining room table. Her eyes kept lingering on Jasonâs phone number scribbled on the top page. Rian debated texting him the entire weekend. She was unsure what she would even write to him. It didnât seem likely one of the attractive heirs to Bruce Wayneâs fortune would take an interest in her. Especially not someone as smart and charming as Jason Todd.
She ultimately decided against it, knowing Riley would probably find out if she did. Any number he didnât recognize in her phone was a threat, and she couldnât risk another outburst from him. Rian still had a bruise on her cheek and ribs from the last one, and they would never heal if she kept upsetting her boyfriend.
Rian heard the front door open and Riley slumped in, kicking off his black shoes as he entered the apartment.
âHi babe.â She greeted him warmly as he approached the table, giving her a quick kiss on her head. âHow was work?â
âToo long.â He sighed, leaning over her shoulder to see what she was writing. âBut itâs all worth it coming home to you.â
Rian smiled, even though Rileyâs words leave a strange knot in her stomach. They sounded hollow; forced. Rehearsed. Â
âI made some chili, itâs in the crockpot on the stove. Ready and waiting.â Rian closed her laptop, stepping away from the table to grab him a bowl.
âWhatâs this?â He asked nonchalantly. She glanced over her shoulder, her mouth feeling extra dry when she saw Riley leaning over her notebook. The notebook she carelessly left open. With Jasonâs phone number scribbled on the top. âIt almost looks like,â He paused, the smile falling from his face. âA phone number.â He looked up at Rian, face neutral as he gauged her reaction.
âOh, that?â She forced herself to calm down, choosing instead to focus on the chili. âIt must be Chelseaâs number. From my Lit class.â It wasnât like Riley knew Rianâs classmates, or that she and Chelsea werenât actually friends. Rian never talked to him about her classes. âWeâre working on a project together, and she wanted me to text her if I canât make our meeting tomorrow after class.â
âYouâre going to be out late tomorrow?â Riley asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
If Rian could maintain her story through these next few minutes, she would be okay.
âNot too late. Class ends at five and we just need an hour or two to work on a presentation. Iâll be home before you need to leave to make dinner.â She brought Riley his chili, handing the steaming bowl to him as innocently as she could. âIs that okay?â
âI guess. I wish you would have asked sooner.â He sat at her now vacant seat, eyes falling to the notebook once again. âSo I guess you donât need this number anymore.â It wasnât a question, but he still looked up at her, waiting for an answer.
âI might need it just in caseâŠâ She started, but after seeing his reaction quickly changed her answer. âBut no, I donât think I need it at this point.â
âGood.â Riley forced a smile, daring Rian to challenge him.
She watched in slight horror as he tore the entire page unevenly from her notebook, crumpling it in his hand and stuffing it into his pocket. His eyes never left her face, and she forced a smile to hide her astonishment.
âI have an early day tomorrow, so Iâll see you in the morning?â Rian recovered, walking cautiously over to RIley to give him a gentle peck on the temple. Riley wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.
âOr you could put on that little lingerie set I bought you from Valentineâs Day last year and meet me in the bedroom in fifteen minutes.â He suggested, a half smile crossing his face as he looked up at Rian. âI had a long day and need to unwind a little. You want to help me unwind a little, donât you baby?â
âOf course.â She forced a smile and pulled away from him toward the bedroom. He slapped her backside as she passed him, and she forced herself to keep an even pace.
Rian swallowed the sob crawling its way up her throat, fighting as hard as she could to turn her emotions off for the next hour. It was a routine she was accustomed to, and one she wished she didnât have to endure.
Jason
It was  an overcast Monday afternoon as Jason made his way across campus to the Literature building. He didnât want to admit it to anyone, but he was slightly disappointed Rian never texted him. He had tried so hard to nonchalantly give her his number, and he couldnât help but think he was too forceful or inserted himself where he didnât belong. He didnât want to make her feel uncomfortable.
He was utterly entranced by Rian, especially after learning about her article on vigilantes. She didnât excuse their lawless behavior, but also understood its necessity. He had yet to meet anyone outside of his family and vigilante friend group who understood that. He was thoroughly impressed with her, and wanted to know more about her. No, needed to know more.
And although he would never admit it, he might have watched her for a few minutes while on patrol Saturday night. She was outside on the fire escape lining his apartment building, reading a worn copy of To Kill A Mocking Bird with a few candles placed on the steps as a source of light.
And he also would never admit it, but when she left her apartment Sunday morning to run a few errands, he might have peeked in her window via the same fire escape and noticed the pile of books and fashion magazines resting on one of the bedside tables, along with a plastic coffee cup from his favorite shop. He wasnât proud, but he probably would have climbed in the window to learn more about her if it had been unlocked (he drew the line at breaking and entering).
He sat in his usual seat, watching a little too eagerly as students dragged themselves into the classroom. Rachel smiled when her eyes met his, and he gave her a little nod. Not the girl he was looking for, but he appreciated her friendliness.
âDo anything fun?â She asked shyly, sitting in the seat to his right. âI texted you Saturday night, but Iâm not sure you got it.â
Much to his dismay, he remembered reading her message, and felt like an ass for forgetting to answer her. Truth be told, he was on patrol with Dick and was bitter it wasnât from Rian. His heart sank when he realized she wasnât going to message him, and he had to handle all the probing questions from his older brother. And then his younger brothers, who heard Dickâs teasing over their communication system. It was a long night of dodging questions on Jasonâs part.
âI was in Bludhaven for a family thing.â Jason answered quickly, giving Rachel a friendly smile. âNext time though, Iâll definitely come out next time.â
Reassured, she turned to open her bag, chatting with Chelsea on her other side.
One minute before class started, Rian finally strutted into class. She held her head high, but something was off about her. Again. Jason could sense it. He tried to meet her gaze as she sat in her usual seat, but she wouldnât look at him.
Shit.
He studied her carefully in his peripheral vision as Dr. Cortez started his lecture. She looked put together, like normal, but also tired. Defeated. Small. She looked exhausted, and Jason had an inkling it wasnât related to sleep.
He tried hard to ignore the yelling and noise he heard in apartment 11F from time to time, but he was also curious. Was Rian fighting with her boyfriend, or were they just passionate? He couldnât tell, and wasnât sure how to approach the situation. After she neglected to message him, he wasnât sure he would ever get his answer.
He just wanted to get to know her better. To answer all these questions he had about her. If she were in a committed relationship, that was fine. He respected those boundaries, but it didnât diminish his fascination with her. He was drawn to Rian in a strange way, and he felt like they shared a special connection or something. It was unfounded and he had no reason to believe this, but ever since he came back from the Lazarus pit, he felt a strange hollowness inside of him that he thought would never completely leave. But when he started noticing her, that hollowness felt less invasive. She made him stronger. It was probably all a placebo, but maybe it wasnât.
Rian managed to avoid his gaze the entire class, much to Jasonâs dismay. He didnât want to force her to look at him, but he needed some kind of closure. If she wasnât going to talk to him, he needed a confirmation.
Class finally ended, and Jason sighed as he watched her retreating figure exit the room. She was one of the first students to leave. He missed his opportunity to talk to her, but might have gotten the confirmation he was looking for. She wasnât interested in befriending him. That was fine. He could accept that, even if it left him with a heavy, sinking feeling.
Jason spent some time with Rachel and Chelsea at a coffee shop on campus before visiting Wayne Manor. It was easier for him to actually show up on time to family dinner than wait for Bruce to summon him for an impromptu meeting about the unknown drug lords. Tim found a few new leads over the weekend, granting the Bat team more time to stop the upcoming shipment, but they were starting to run into problems again. Whoever was leading the operation was always one step ahead of them again.
âAlfred.â Jason nodded to the butler as he entered the grandiose estate, closing the large main door behind him.
âAlways a pleasure, Master Todd.â Alfred stated, ushering Jason into the dining room. âIâm afraid they started without you, although I can assure you I protested on your behalf.â
âAlways a real one, Alfred.â Jason chuckled.
He took the empty seat between Dick and Bruce, although he would have preferred to sit across from Tim and not Damien.
âFinally found your way here Todd?â The youngest Wayne questioned, a fork full of broccoli suspended between his plate and dainty mouth.
âFuck off, demon spawn.â Jason muttered, ignoring the pointed look from Dick.
âOne minute in and itâs already started.â Tim muttered, mostly to himself. He shook his head in disbelief at his squabbling brothers, who never managed to get along under normal circumstances like a family dinner.
âJay-bird, we talked about manners.â Dick teased, passing his brother the bowl of Alfredâs homemade mashed potatoes. He knew they were Jasonâs favorite, and probably hoarded them by his corner of the table to prevent the others from consuming them all.
âYou want some too, Dickhead?â Jason answered in a sing-song voice, giving his older brother a smirk to show he was joking. Dick rolled his eyes, choosing instead to change the topic of conversation.
âSo, Jason. Howâre classes going?â He asked, cutting his slab of steak into bite-sized pieces.
âFine.â Jason answered between bites of potato. âNothing to write home about.â
âDid you get any messages from you-know-who?â Tim joined in, cutting right to the point. âAny developments?â He pushed his glasses further up his nose as he ate, eagerly awaiting Jasonâs response.
âEasy, Tim-bo. You donât want to lose your glasses in that soup.â Jason motioned to the thick gathering of gravy on Timâs plate.
âCome on, Jay-bird. Weâre just curious.â Dick commented, nudging Jason lightly with his arm. âYou seemed so upset-â
âI wasnât fucking upset, Dickhead.â Jason cut in, narrowing his eyes at Dick.
âNot that I care, but you were.â Damien muttered from across the table. âYouâre terrible at masking your emotions, Todd.â
âSorry we canât all be as monotonous and dead-eyed as you.â Jason mocked his youngest brother, all friendliness leaving his demeanor. He didnât come to family dinner to be chastised, he came to talk about the case.
âSorry your latest harlot wouldnât answer you.â Damien muttered again, his eyes snapping to Jason when he heard his fork drop.
âI bested you last time we fought, demon spawn. Donât make me kick your ass again.â Jason challenged, pushing his chair back to stand.
Damien followed suit, rising to stand on the opposite side of the table. It would have been comical to see the tallest and shortest Wayne boys glowering at each other from different sides of the table, but this was hardly the time.
âAlright, alright. Enough.â Bruce shook his head, finally intervening. âSit down, Jason. You too Damien. This isnât why we invited Jason and Dick here.â
The two standing boys narrowed their eyes at each other, but listened to Bruce. He was right; this wasnât a battle they needed to settle tonight. But Jason was sure to come back to the Manor when the drug lords were caught to teach Damien another lesson.
The rest of the night went smoothly, with no more outbursts from any of the boys. Jason followed his brothers and Bruce into the bat cave, where Tim relayed a few more leads he found to the team. There wasnât anything substantial, but they were better than nothing.
âWe think some of the dock workers are in on this.â Tim explained, his large computer screen filled with grainy security camera footage. The footage revealed a few men in security guard uniforms grouped together at the docks. âThe cameras donât collect audio, but theyâre talking about something here, and they meet like this almost every night. Same time. Same men.â
Jason and Dick are the only two who havenât studied the footage, so they lean in closer than Bruce and Damien.
âYou found a pattern, Tim-bo. Nice.â Jason clapped his younger brother on the back, nodding his head in approval. âWe can work with this.â
âDo we have any names? Anything that can help us track these guys?â Dick asked, his eyes flickering around the screen. âYouâre sure itâs definitely the same guys?â
âI hacked into their payroll, and itâs always the same guys on the time sheets. Theyâre leaving a trail.â Tim confirmed, ruffling through a pile of papers on his desk. âAha, here it is!â He holds up a packet, handing it to Dick. âThese are the schedules from the last few months. Itâs always the same four men; Salazar, Osbourne, Craig, and Wilson.â
Jason scans the sheet over Dickâs shoulder, confirming Timâs statement.
âIâve already run background checks on them, and guess what Jason.â Tim turns to Jason, a sly smirk forming across his face. âOne of them lives in your building.â
âNo way.â Jason squints at the names again. âNone of those look familiar, my buildingâs pretty big. Which one is it?â
Authorâs Note: I am physically incapable of sticking to a posting schedule, so Iâm just going to update when I can. Follow me or check on my master list every now and then, Iâll keep it as updated as I can. Iâm so sorry, but also very grateful for all the DMs and feedback! Youâre all wonderful, and I appreciate each and every one of you :)
1,932 words
Masterlist
Jason
It was two weeks since the Red Hood ran into Rian. A strange feeling had settled over Jason after he realized she was the screaming woman he saved in the alley. He was more aware of her now, and spent the majority of his World Literature class cautiously studying her from her seat next to him (technically two seats away; her bag still acted as a barrier between herself and the rest of the class). He couldnât get the memory of her returning to the scene of the attack, just to check on the shattered remnants of something in a plastic bag, out of his head. He never saw anyone return to the scene of crime.Â
He had followed her home that night to make sure she was safe, and made an astonishing discovery. Not only did she live in the same apartment building as him, she was also part of the notorious Apartment 11F. How he managed to never see her in or around the building was another mystery, but he chalked that up to his strange schedule.
Jason arrived to his World Literature class earlier than usual. Students filed in around him as the clock ticked closer to three oâclock. Rachel took her usual place beside him, and he exchanged brief pleasantries with her and Chelsea before his attention was pulled to Rian.
She was one of the last people to enter the classroom, arriving seconds before Dr. Cortez. She glided down the aisle separating the first and second row of desks, taking her usual seat next to the wall. She placed her brown leather bag in the open seat beside Jason, ignoring some of the curious glances she received from her classmates. Rianâs dark hair hid her face like a curtain, and Jason could sense a change in her demeanor.
She usually sat with perfect posture, taking time to remove her course materials from her bag while Dr. Cortez set up his lecture for the day. Today she sat slightly slouched in the chair, her bag sitting untouched in the seat between them.
It was then Jason decided he would try to talk to her when class was over. He had two hours to plan the perfect conversation starter; something that would come off friendly and lighthearted but would hopefully warrant a response from her. One conversation, that was all he wanted (at least for now).
Jason couldnât describe the feeling, but he felt like he and Rian shared more than what was apparent on the surface. There was something about her he couldnât quite place. They may have been strangers, but he felt like he could change that. Needed to change that. Â
Rian
Rian really did enjoy classes with Dr. Cortez, but this one seemed to drag by at a pace that rivaled a snail. He decided to organize the class into two smaller seminar groups to discuss last weekâs reading. Of course she finished it (she made it a top priority the second Dr. Cortez assigned it), but she wasnât in the mood to engage with any of her classmates. The last two weeks had been hell with Riley.
Following the pasta sauce incident, he became unbearably angry with her. It was such a simple task and she felt like she failed him. She didnât want to dwell on what happened after he returned home that night to a meager meal that was nothing more than a bowl of plain pasta with butter on the table, but Rianâs ribs still ached in protest under her sweater at the memory.
She sat among the circle of her peers, one of the two groups discussing the reading. She was interested in the conversation at first, but that interest was quickly forgotten when Chelsea took control of the group. Chelsea once again made it her lifeâs mission to exclude Rian from any conversation, and Rian still didnât understand how a complete stranger could hate her so vehemently.
Rian took diligent notes instead, forcing herself to at least look engaged in the seminar as Dr. Cortez weaved around the room.
The class finally ended at five, and Rian hurried to rearrange her desk before leaving for the day. Riley warned her not to be late tonight, and she didnât want to make him any angrier than he already was. She just had to survive one more night with him before he was away for the weekend, leaving her alone in the apartment for the first time in weeks. Rian had several books piling up to read on her bedside table, and this weekend presented the perfect opportunity to finally chip away at them.
She pulled her chair from the dwindling circle of desks a little too forcefully, propelling herself backwards into a solid mass of muscle. The chair caused her to lose her balance. She felt warm hands gently steady her sore arms before she regained her composure.
She spun around, heart pounding as she apologized profusely to a pair of piercing blue eyes. Of course she had to fall into Jason Todd, the smart guy who sat next to her with the silky black hair and perfect jawline. Even with her heels, he was still several inches taller than her.
âItâs fine doll, no harm done.â Jason assured her, flashing an easygoing lopsided grin. Rianâs cheeks reddened as she turned back to her chair, tucking it quickly beneath her desk. âIâm Jason.â He added, following her to his table with his own chair in tow. âJason Todd.â
âNice to meet you.â Rian forced a quick smile as she grabbed her leather bag, eager to leave before she embarrassed herself further in front of Jason. There was something about him that made her heart race. Maybe it was his height, or his eyes, or the confidence he emulated. She wasnât the only one to notice, and it was better for her to limit her interactions with him to avoid any unwanted attention.
âWait up!â She didnât need to turn around to know it was Jason following after her. Rian knew the sound of his voice from class, and thoroughly enjoyed listen to him share his unique interpretations of the class readings. He was smart and genuinely interested in literature, two things Rian would have liked to see in Riley. As one of billionaire Bruce Wayneâs heirs, Jason was the perfect package. A playboy who could win over any girl he wanted (not that Rian was paying attention or anything).
âRian.â She stated nervously, glancing at him as he matched her stride. She caught his gaze curiously wandering across her face. Rian hoped he wouldnât notice the fading bruise on her cheek, although she was sure she covered it with more than enough makeup.
âRian.â He repeated, a small smile pulling at his mouth. She liked the way he said her name with his deep voice. âAre you a Lit major?â
âWriting and Fashion Design, actually.â She supplied as the pair exited the Literature building into a darkening Gotham. âBut I love Dr. Cortez, I try to take one of his classes every semester.â
âMe too, heâs an incredible teacher.â Jason smiled wider at Rianâs declaration.
She returned his friendly gesture. She sensed he was trying to make conversation, but it was too dangerous. If Riley knew she was talking to another guy outside of class (let alone the Jason Todd), he would be livid.
âIt was nice talking to you, but I have to get back to my apartment.â She added reluctantly, trying to mask her regret. She didnât want him to think she was stuck up or anything. âI guess Iâll see you-â
âI was actually going to ask you something. Super fast, I promise.â
She stopped walking to look at him in surprise, Uber already open on her phone.
âDo you mind if I take a picture of your notes? From the seminar today? I wasnât really paying attention to my group and I noticed you writing some stuff down, which I probably shoulda done in retrospect.â He raised his brows slightly, as if begging her to accept his offer.
âS-sure.â Rian was taken aback. Was he talking to her all of a sudden just to get her notes? She pulled her notebook from her bag in compliance, flipping through a few pages to find the entry from today.
âA lot of writing in there. Is that all for Dr. Cortez?â Jason noted, glancing at the pages filled with her flowing handwriting as she hurried past them.
âAmong other things.â She answered, and sensing he wanted more information, added, âItâs also some ideas I have for articles.â
âArticles?â Jason sounded more interested in her answer than she initially thought he would be. Especially for someone who just wanted her notes.
âYeah,â Rian answered absentmindedly. âI help edit articles for the Gotham Chronicle and Iâm hoping if I write a few strong pieces I can become a contributor too. But who knows. Ah, here it is.â
Jason pulled his phone out, snapping a few pictures of the pages.
âThatâs really cool, good for you.â He sounded genuine in his compliment. âI love reading the GC, itâs the only newspaper around here that isnât convoluted with hysteria and⊠you know.â Jason shoved his phone back into the pocket of his dark jeans, his blue eyes once again scanning her face. âAnything fun youâre working on?â
âNot really.â Rian was going to walk away, she really was. But Jason was the first person to take an interest in her work, and she really wanted to bounce some ideas off someone that wasnât her bedroom wall. âWell, thereâs one Iâm kind of excited to work on. I came up with it two weeks ago after⊠something happened.â She trailed off, unsure of how much information she should share with him.
Jason smiled at her, encouraging her to continue.
âI had a run in with one of the vigilantes, the ones every other newspaper is up in arms about.â
Jasonâs eyebrows shot up at Rianâs admission, but he didnât press her for more information.
âI didnât realize what happened until after, but I think one of them saved me. I couldnât get a good look at them, but. I donât know. I just know theyâre not as bad as a lot of people seem to think they are. Theyâre out there saving people and protecting the city, that isnât something we need to fight against. Maybe theyâre breaking the law, and Iâm not trying to say thatâs right, but there are a lot of more dangerous agents out there. The Penguin. Black Mask. The Joker.â Jason winced at the last villain she mentioned, but he quickly composed himself. âI think these vigilantes like Batman and Nightwing and the others are trying to help alleviate the situation or whatever. I donât think the police should be using all of these resources and public funds on fighting them, at least not yet. There are bigger problems out there. People being killed, and drugged, and trafficked. We need all the help we can get to fight this.â
Jason was quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving Rianâs face.
âSounds like a hell of an article. Can you send me a copy when youâre done writing it?â
âIf I ever finish, youâll be the first person I tell.â Rian smiled at him, and he returned it easily.
âYouâre probably gonna need my number then.â He smirked at her surprised face, clearly pleased he caught her off guard.
He pulled a pen out of his bag before she could react, opening her notebook to the first page. He scrawled his phone number at the top of her notes, just above the first bullet note. He closed the notebook, giving Rian a wink before sauntering off toward the library.
She stood there in awe at how smooth he was, watching him as he strode away.
TRIGGERS: Cursing, some domestic abuse, mention of wanting to die, attempted mugging/assault, mentions of drugs
Authorâs Note: Sorry it took so long to post this one, Iâll do better I swear!
3,920 words
Masterlist
Jason
It was 5 oâclock on Wednesday, and Jason found himself laughing along with Rachel and a few other students from his World Literature class in the library at Gotham Community College. The group took up one of the large tables on the second floor, and they were surrounded by other groups working in a similar manner on various coursework.
The group was engrossed in gossip regarding some of the other students in their Literature class, many of whom Jason didnât even know. He relished in the stories and rumors being shared by his classmates, who were trying to have some lighthearted fun after the two hours of work they put into their research assignments. Although he didnât particularly like gossip, Jason was nosy and didnât see the harm in joining in on such a *normal* college activity.
âI canât believe Bryant got away with that!â Chelsea, one of Rachelâs more boisterous friends, snickered into her palm. The group was talking quietly to avoid any eavesdroppers, but every now and then one of them would crack up and become a little too loud. âYou know he almost dropped out of high school because of that, right? We were in the same classes together senior year, and we were all sure he would get caught. I didnât even see him around campus until recently, and I donât even know if he was at graduation-â
Jason tuned her out, glancing around the library to the clock on the wall closest to his table. He would probably stay another hour before he needed to leave. He had work for a different class to finish before patrol tonight, and didnât want to have to wake up early the next morning to finish it. His eyes traveled down the wall to one of the individual cubbies against the wall, where his gaze fell on the back of a familiar head. It was the quiet girl who sat next to him in class.
His eyes raked down her body, taking in her light blue jeans and trendy brown leather jacket. She was wearing a jacket again, on another warm day.
Rachel nudged Jason, pulling his eyes away from the girl as her hand flew across her notebook not thirty feet from where he sat.
âThatâs the girl from our class, right?â He asked Rachel quietly, motioning to the girl in question with his head. âThe one who sits next to me?â
âI think so.â Rachel followed his nod, her eyes landing on the girlâs back. âI donât know her very well.â
âNo one does.â Sam cut in, noticing the pair eyeing the girl writing like a madman in her notebook. âSheâs hot, but never hangs with anyone.â
âIâve had a couple classes with her.â Chelsea whispered, her eyes never leaving the new topic of conversation. âHer nameâs Rian, sheâs weird. Quiet, doesnât really socialize with any of us. Thinks sheâs above it all, you know, all this college stuff. I never see her at, like, parties or bars or anything, I donât even think she lives on campus.â
âSnooty.â Rachel added, her eyes trailing along Jasonâs face. Her mouth twitches when she sees the interest heâs taken in Rian.
His eyes were drawn to her, out of pity or curiosity he isnât sure. She sits next to him in class, (well, her bag does), and he still hasnât had a single conversation with her. The only reason he knows what her voice sounds like is because she sometimes answers questions in class, but only when sheâs called on. She never volunteers information. Sheâs guarded, something Jason sympathizes with.
âJason?â Chelsea snapped her fingers in his face to gain his attention. âAre you with me?â
âSorry, yeah.â He muttered, blue eyes reluctantly leaving Rian. âI just- never mind.â
As if on cue, Jasonâs phone vibrated on the table next to his hand. He glanced at it quickly; a message from Dick.
âShit.â He mumbled, opening the lengthy message. Dick was never one to be brief. âI have to go,â Jason started packing his things, standing quickly as he typed a response to Dick. Apparently Tim found a lot of information about the drug lords and Bruce wanted everyone at the house ASAP to brief them for a raid. If they could pull this off, it would stop a large shipment of laced heroin from entering the streets, and prevent a lot of overdoses and potential addictions. âThanks for inviting me, this was fun.â He flashed a quick smile at the group, his eyes landing on a disappointed Rachel. âIâll see you on Friday?â
She gave him a small nod and a shy wave as he rushed out of the library, grateful he brought his motorcycle today.
It was going to be a long night.
Rian
Rian was frantically trying to finish her statistics homework at the Gotham Community College library before returning to her apartment, where she was sure her boyfriend of three years, Riley, would be waiting. Although the couple hadnât officially moved in together, he basically lived with her. Rian didnât mind in the beginning of their relationship, but the past year had turned volatile as an uneasy tension settled between the two young adults.
He became paranoid. Controlling. Distrusting. Everything he swore he would never become after witnessing a violent upbringing on behalf of his alcoholic father. It started with small actions; questioning the âappropriatenessâ of Rianâs outfits, asking her to make him dinner before work because he was too tired; and eventually turned into more problematic actions; grabbing Rianâs arm too hard during arguments, prohibiting her from leaving her apartment to see friends without him, controlling every aspect of her life.
Riley would berate her, accuse her of cheating on him, accuse her of thinking she was better than him. He would throw her around the apartment like a rag doll, releasing his pent-up anger and aggression and frustrations. He would leave trails of bruises along her arms and torso from his outbursts, and sometimes from the sex he would force her to have with him after. He was slowly becoming his father, and Rian were helpless to save him from it.
She initially stayed with him because she thought he could be saved, but now she stayed with him out of fear and shame. Over time, Rian began to believe the things he said, even though she knew better. Even if she left, as he often suggested sarcastically, what would she do? Where would she go? She was a shell of a person now, a black-and-white copy of the person she used to be. He had broken her, and she was stuck in a cycle of violence and unhappiness she couldnât escape from.
The only joy in her life was her love of fashion, books, and writing. She was lucky to hold a part-time work-from-home job as a junior assistant editor for the Gotham Chronicle. It didnât pay much, but it allowed her to pay some of her rent with a little money left over for groceries. Rian was fortunate to hold a generous scholarship from Gotham Community College, which helped pay the remainder of her rent in addition to her classes and course materials. As her final year at Gotham began, Rian feared what she would do after graduating. She didnât have any money saved up, and Riley would sooner chain her to their bed than let her get another part-time job somewhere.
Rianâs mind drifted further from her homework, but a series of giggles behind her chimed in her ear. It was a group of students from her World Literature class, and she was sure they were laughing at her. She only had a few classes with the notorious Chelsea Rosa, and never did anything to upset her, but Rian knew from the disgusted look on Chelseaâs face anytime the two girls were in the same room that she hated her. Chelsea probably hated how Rian always sported perfect hair and makeup, and meticulously planned her outfits every Sunday night for the following week. Chelsea probably hated the facade Rian hid behind to hide her insecurities and toxic relationship with Riley. Rian wished she didnât care, she wished she didnât let it gnaw at her insides anytime she saw Chelsea, but it did. Rian couldnât fight it, and just like her relationship with Riley, she was helpless to change it.
Rian risked a glance over her shoulder at the table of five students, all of whom were definitely looking at her. Most turned their heads when they saw her notice them. Rachel, Sam, Joaquin, Yesenia. The only one who held Rian's gaze was Chelsea.
Rian turned away quickly. She was definitely done with her homework now. She glanced at her phone as she began quietly packing her bag. It was almost six oâclock; she should have been on her way home twenty minutes ago.
Rian sped through the library toward the main doors as she mentally cursed herself for not setting a timer. Riley expected her to make dinner for him every night, something he subconsciously learned from his years as a child observing his parents. He expected her to be back from classes by six oâclock, seven at the very latest before his shift at the Gotham docks.
Riley was a few years older than Rian, but never attended college. He chose instead to work as a security guard at the docks, taking extra shifts at night to earn more money. He would always throw that factor in Rianâs face, claiming he needed the extra money to take her out to eat and buy her new clothes and makeup. She never asked him to do any of these things, but again he learned them from watching his parents. His father was the family breadwinner, and although he showered Rileyâs mother with gifts, everything came at a price. He expected Rian to give him anything he wanted; dinner, massages, sex; in return for these hollow gifts. Empty sentiments to their toxic relationship.
Rain began to lap against the concrete beneath Rianâs heels as she hurried across campus. She opened Uber on her phone, hoping to catch a nearby driver to get her to the apartment as quickly as possible. Just as she began to type in her address, wiping the screen dry from the rain with the sleeve of her new brown jacket, the screen went black.
Rian stared at the rectangle in her hands with disbelief. Did it really have to die now? She swallowed hard, fear rising in the pit of her stomach as she started running toward her apartment. She needed to get there, and she needed to get there fast.
Raindrops pelted her face as she hurried through the desolate streets of Gotham. Bad things happened in Gotham to women who traveled alone at night, yet here she was. She partly hoped some thug would stop her, end her miserable existence to prevent her from returning home to Riley. It was a twisted thought, but it settled her nerves with its realism.
Rian scolded herself for staying at the library too late. She just wanted to finish her homework, she was so close. And there would be no finishing it when she arrived home, not with Riley there. Even after he left for work, she was usually too emotionally and physically drained to do much of anything. Dr. Cortez cancelling his Wednesday class presented Rian with the perfect opportunity to catch up on her statistics class.
She hurried into her apartment building twenty-five minutes later, darting passed the broken elevator to the staircase to climb the eleven flights to her apartment.
11F. That was her.
Rian sighed as she stuck her key in the lock on the green door, dreading the fuming man on the other side.
âYouâre home late, babe.â Riley commented coldly the second she closed the front door behind her, locking it against intruders. He was perched on the couch, watching a Bruce Willis movie on her TV.
âI got caught in the rain.â Rian muttered feebly, dropping her wet bag at her side. âAnd my phone died so I couldnât call an Uber.â
Riley turned his head to watch her with distant eyes as she removed her jacket, hanging it on the small coat rack next to the door. Rian brushed her sopping wet hair over her shoulder, hoping to keep herself busy as Riley sized her up.
âWhat do you want to eat?â She asked quietly, opening the refrigerator. âWe haveâŠâ Her green eyes scanned the barren shelves, cursing herself again for wasting time at the library instead of grocery shopping. Her eyes scanned over the half-eaten bag of lettuce, various condiments, tubs of hummus, and very old Chinese takeout before she remembered the box of pasta she kept stashed on top of the refrigerator. âI can make pasta if you want? Before you have to leave?â Rian had been saving that pasta for a special meal for herself when Riley would be working all weekend, but she lacked the right ingredients to make the meal and she could always buy more when she eventually went to the store.
She glanced at the clock above the stove. Riley usually left around eight oâclock, sometimes nine or ten depending on which shift he took. Tonight she was sure he was supposed to leave at eight, and she hoped he would leave earlier. He was already wearing his uniform, confirming her suspicions.
âWeâre out of sauce.â He stated coldly, rising slowly from his seat on the couch. âHow am I supposed to eat pasta without any sauce?â
Rian froze. She knew what was going to happen before it did. This happened hundreds of times before. It was her fault she didnât go shopping, and Riley wasnât going to let that go. He would belittle her and berate her, maybe hit her or push her down. She would apologize profusely until he was through fighting with her. Sometimes she would fight back, but those outbursts became less frequent, as she knew she would never win.
âIâm sorry, I didnât think-â
âYou never do, do you?â He scolded, walking toward her as she cowered away from him. âYou never think about anyone else, even your own boyfriend. I take care of you, right? I take you out to eat, buy you nice things, support your desire to get an education even though itâs a waste of time,â He sneered the last part and Rian swallowed hard. âAnd yet you canât make me a good dinner. I never fucking eat well because you never care to make me dinner. Itâs fucking unbelievable.â
Rian stays quiet, squeezing her eyes closed as Riley approaches. Itâs futile to try to reason with him.
âYou have to be the most selfish bitch Iâve ever met.â He continued as he brushed passed her, grabbing his jacket as he unlocked the apartment door. âIâll be back in a couple hours, you better have that pasta ready.â
He slammed the door loudly, and Rian released the breath she didnât realize she was holding. That interaction had gone better than most, but she knew she had to go to the store to buy his pasta sauce before it closed. If he returned to no dinner⊠she shuddered at the memory of all the foundation she had to use to hide her black eye the last time this happened.
Rian grabbed her wet coat from the rack, counting down from 100 in her head before leaving to avoid seeing Riley in the lobby. It was going to be a long night.
The corner convenience store five blocks from her building was fortunately still open as Rian rushed inside, frantically looking through the pasta and chip aisle for Rileyâs favorite pasta sauce. She found it after a few minutes, finally allowing herself to relax as she cashed out with Mrs. Chen, the kind older woman who owned the store.
âPasta sauce at this hour?â She asked, offering Rian a kind smile.
âItâs an emergency.â Rian smiled back at her as she was handed her change.
âMust be.â Mrs. Chen muttered before turning to the only other shopper in the store. âNeed help? Weâre closing soon.â
The man grunted in response, and Rian felt his eyes on her as she retreated to the door. Rian ignored the dread that filled her stomach, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck as she rushed into the rain.
She only had two blocks before she would be safely in her apartment. Well, as safe as she could be knowing Riley would be returning later. She was practically running across the vacant streets, not a soul in sight.
As Rian passed the laundromat where she brought her laundry, she felt a pair of hands grab her waist. She was hauled into an alleyway before she knew what was happening.
âEasy there, shortcake.â A burly voice sounded in her ear. A dirty hand clasped down on Rian's mouth as she tried to kick her assailant, struggling in his grasp. The smell of cigarettes and cheap beer filled her nostrils, the rain intensifying the rancidness. âWhere are you off to at such a late hour?â
She squirmed, determined to break free. She had to make that pasta, or worse things would happen to her. Or maybe this was the reprise Rian was wishing for. Maybe this man would end her life and none of her panic even mattered. No more Riley, no more pain, no more hurting. But that wasnât an option. Rian may have been broken down by Riley, but she was still a fighter, and this wasnât how she planned on dying.
The thug removed his hand from Rianâs mouth to pull the plastic bag from her hand, the bag containing the pasta sauce for Riley. Rian found her opportunity to scream, to beg someone for help. She screamed as loud as she could, her vocal cords straining against her throat as she tried to wiggle herself free.
The man tightened his grip on Rianâs waist, his hand inching lower and lower toward her pelvis. She kicked him again, and he finally released her. Rian fell to the ground with an unsuspecting thud, catching herself against the wet pavement with her hands. Her palms burned from the impact, but she forced herself up, trying desperately to stand.
Before she could get herself upright, she felt the manâs hands grab one of her legs to drag her back toward him. Rian kicked, cried out, squirmed around. Anything to get free. Her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. She had to get away.
She could hardly see the man in the dark, but she was kicking and struggling and doing anything she could to free herself.
In an instant his hands released her leg, and Rian took the opportunity to crawl away. She could hear grunting behind her, but the rain was too loud to make out what was happening. It sounded like fighting, as if someone had finally come to her rescue.
Rian didnât glance back, instead making her escape. She ran as fast as she could in her heels in the direction of her apartment building, only stopping to catch her breath when she was safely inside the building with the door locked behind her.
Rianâs legs ached; her palms itched; and she could feel a migraine start to push against her skull. She gasped for breath, thoroughly grateful for her escape. That someone, or something, saved her. Maybe things would be okay.
As her heart began to settle, she remembered the pasta sauce. Still in its bag. Still in the alley. Panic began to rise in her chest. This wasnât over.
Jason
âThisâll teach you to harass people, you old fuck.â Jason landed another punch to the degenerate as he struggled in Jasonâs grasp. Jason had found him attacking some screaming woman while he was on his way home after leaving the Batcave. She was lucky he was too tired to patrol, or she would have been on her own. She was a fighter though, he saw her kicking and screaming at her assailant.
She crawled away before Jason could help her, but that was probably for the best. He didnât have it in him to comfort another distraught Gothamite. He just wanted to change out of his wet clothes and take a hot shower.
As Jason left the man unconscious and handcuffed in the alley, tagged with a tracker for Tim and Dick to pick up on their way through, his mind wandered to Rachel. What if something like this happened to her? Or one of her friends? Would he be there to help them? And what if he was too late?
Jason shook his head. This was another reason he couldnât get too close to people. Gotham was a dangerous city, and almost every citizen had their run-in with a criminal or two. Some lived to see another day, and some did not. He couldnât worry about protecting everyone he cared about; there were more important things happening.
Jason grappled to the top of a nearby building, removing his helmet to let the rain wash away the sweat and stress from the past few hours. The meeting with Bruce had been too long. There were no viable ways to prevent the drugs from entering the city, and Bruce wouldnât allow any of the boys to involve themselves until he had a solid plan with reliable back-up. But they were running out of time. By tomorrow, the drugs could already be in the city. The weight of that realization settled unpleasantly on Jasonâs shoulders, making it hard for him to focus on anything else.
He was about to run toward the next rooftop, two blocks from his apartment, when slight movement under one of the streetlights below caught his attention. He pulled his helmet back on, cursing whoever it was walking through the streets. He didnât have it in him for another attack. Maybe he would leave this one to Dick when he finally arrived to pick up the unconscious thug.
He peered over the edge of the building, watching in disbelief as a small figure tentatively peeked into the alley he had just vacated. He instantly recognized her as the same woman who was being attacked moments before.
The woman used her phone flashlight as she carefully stepped back into the alley. She didnât appear to realize her assailant was slumped against the wall near her, unconscious thanks to the Red Hood. When the woman stumbled on a plastic bag, she crouched down. Jason watched curiously as she opened the wet bag. He used his helmet to zoom in on her, his night vision allowing him to see almost perfectly in the dark.
She pulled out a shard of broken glass covered in a dark, thick liquid. He saw her hands trembling as she dropped the shard, bringing one hand to her face as she backed away from the scene. She stumbled out of the alley, now illuminated by the streetlight as she stuck her wet hands deep into the pockets of her brown leather jacket.
Jason recognized that jacket, and taking another look at her, recognized her jeans and boots too. He studied the top of her head, realizing it was the same head of dark (now very wet) hair that occupied the seat next to him.
Trigger warning: Cursing, mentions of yelling/domestic arguing
Authorâs Note: Hi! I started working on this story after a conversation I had with my friend. Enjoy! Also please ignore any areas with rough writing; Iâm trying to juggle online classes and a full-time job and this is just for fun/anyone interested in reading this! Iâm going to try to update every Monday, and this is going to be at least six or seven chapters, so enjoy!
1,927 words
Masterlist
Jason
It was the second week of the new semester. A fresh start for some, like Jason Todd, who welcomed the opportunity for a change.
He sat at his desk in the front row of the bustling classroom buried deep within the Writing and English Literature building at Gotham Community College, absentmindedly twirling a pencil between his fingers as his classmates slowly filed in to fill the seats around him. A few smiled at him, mostly girls, probably hoping to catch his attention and strike up a conversation. He politely flashed them a quick smirk, choosing instead to focus on his pencil twirling.
It wasnât that he didnât want to socialize with his classmates, maybe get to know them on a more intimate level. He wished he could join their study groups; go out late with them to the bars; hang around at someoneâs apartment until early morning watching movies. Hell, he would even go to football games if he found the right group of people, and that was saying a lot. But considering his nightly actives as the Red Hood and his uncanny ability to get himself and those around him into dangerous (sometimes fatal), situations, he couldnât risk it.
Protecting the city he grew up in was a full-time job. It didnât allow for study groups, intimate friendships, or relationships. He needed to be ready at a momentâs notice to help his family keep Gotham safe (as safe as it could be, it was still Gotham after all). And he loved this responsibility, he loved catching criminals and keeping the streets clean. He loved the adrenaline rush every time he put on his helmet, and was able to make a real difference in someoneâs life. He just wished he could live in both worlds; one as a vigilante, and the other as a normal college student.
He was so lost in thought he barely noticed the slight click-clack of heels against the thinly-carpeted floor passing behind him to one of the empty seats to his left, directly next to the wall. She was conventionally attractive, with short black hair and a radiant glow. She was always dressed immaculately, her hair and makeup nearly perfect. She turned heads anywhere she went, or she would have if she ever bothered to interact with anyone. She was quiet and kept to herself. Answered questions for the teacher when asked, but otherwise didnât socialize with the other students. She was like Jason in that sense, but he doubted she shared the same reasoning.
He glanced at her for a moment as she removed a notebook and several pens from her black fringe bag. She wore a long-sleeved jacket, despite Augustâs lingering warmth. She sat against the wall on the first day of class, keeping one seat vacant between herself and Jason, almost like a buffer. He contemplated moving over to sit beside her, strike up a conversation like everyone else in the room. But she always put your bag on the seat, a definitive barrier against unwelcome conversations. So he kept his distance, and so did everyone else.
The teacher entered the classroom, one of Jasonâs favorites. Dr. Cortez was a short man with dark skin and greying hair. He was always very calm, very personable. He commanded a room with his lectures, and possessed the uncanny ability to guide conversations without controlling them. He was well-liked and very respected around the campus, and Jason was thrilled when he discovered Dr. Cortez would be teaching the Underlying Themes of Modern World Literature course for the semester.
The class settled in as Dr. Cortez began his lecture. Today, he informed them, would be mostly note-taking. That was fine, Jason didnât mind writing. It gave him something to do with his hands, and he genuinely enjoyed the topic. He loved literature, and he loved reading.
The two hour course flew by, the only sound in the classroom was Dr. Cortezâs booming voice and the sound of pens scribbling against paper or fingers frantically typing away on laptop keys.
âI think thatâs enough for today.â Dr. Cortez closed the binder containing his own notes for the lecture, smiling at the students shaking out their sore hands from all the writing. âA bit of a cliffhanger we have, but always leave them wanting more.â A few students chuckled, Jason included. âRemember, we wonât be meeting on Wednesday, I have a conference in Metropolis. But I hope youâll use the time to brainstorm some ideas for your first big research project. I already handed out the list of authors for you to choose from, and if you have any questions Iâm just an e-mail away. See you all Friday.â He smiled widely as the students began gathering their belongings, already conversing about their plans for Wednesday.
âJason, right?â The girl to Jasonâs right asked, tucking a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. She smiled shyly at him as he stuffed his red notebook into his black backpack.
âRachel, right?â He responded, a bemused expression crossing his face. Rachel was a nice girl, pretty quiet considering she hung around with one of the more boisterous groups on campus. She had made conversation with him several times since the class started, and seemed like a very warm and welcoming girl.
âThatâs me.â She laughed lightly, gazing at him through her brown eyelashes. âA few of us are gonna meet up and share notes on Wednesday, seeing as class is canceled and all. Do you want to join us?â She tried to mask the hopefulness in her voice, but Jason could sense she was eager for him to accept her invitation.
âYeah, that would be cool.â Jason nodded slowly, mulling over the suggestion. âI canât stay too late.â He warned, but couldnât help the smile fighting against his lips at the way Rachelâs eyes lit up.
âNo problem, you can leave whenever you need to.â She ripped a piece of paper from her notebook, quickly scribbling her number on the paper. âHereâs my number. Weâll probably meet in the library around three, like when class is supposed to start. Second floor, usually at one of the big tables near the couches. Text me and Iâll let you know for sure.â
Jason smiled at her, folding the piece of paper into his pocket as he stood.
Jason smiled the entire way back to his apartment, stopping only to grab a coffee from his favorite coffee shop on the corner a block from his building. He sent Rachel a quick message, something short but with a flirtatious undertone. Maybe he could have friends and still be a vigilante, granted he didnât let any of them get too close to him.
He took every step to the twelfth floor of his apartment building two at a time as he gripped the hot styrofoam cup, eager to start working on his paper. He already knew which author he would research, and wanted to solidify some of his ideas before he would be pulled from his work to patrol with Tim or Dick.
Several hours passed as Jason typed away on his laptop, almost finished with his five-page outline when he heard a knock on his window. It wasnât a rhythmic tapping, so he knew it must be Dick. Jason typed faster, glancing at the window to confirm his belief.
Dick gave a small salute as Jason hurriedly finished, closing his laptop and jogging to open the window for his older brother.
âJay-bird, please tell me youâre still coming tonight.â Dick hopped into the apartment, already in his Nightwing outfit; a black spandex suit with a blue bird on his chest. âDamienâs already bailed to take care of a sick dog or something, and Bruce has Tim tracking some drug lords in East Gotham. That leaves the entire West side vulnerable.â
âRelax, I just had to finish something.â Jason shrugged off Dickâs complaining, taking long strides to his bedroom to fish the Red Hood uniform from his closet. âI need to change real quick. Can you look for my helmet? I think I left it in the kitchen somewhere.â
âThe kitchen?â Dick raised an eyebrow and sighed before strutting to the kitchen to search for his brotherâs mask. âWhat if someone sees it?â
âThe only people I have over are you and Tim, Dickhead. Nothing to worry about.â Jason called from the bedroom, quickly pulling on his black cargo pants and lacing up his black combat boots.
âI donât see it out here.â
âFuck, well it isnât in here and I had it last night when I came home.â
Dick opened the refrigerator in search of a soda, and was met with Jasonâs Red Hood helmet sitting on the bottom shelf. He smirked, clutching the helmet in his gloved hand before turning in the direction of Jasonâs room.
âFound it! Did you leave it in the refrigerator?â
âDid I?â Jason questioned, squinting his eyes as he recalled the events from last night. âI did need an ice pack, maybe I put it there for a second.â He emerged from his bedroom fully dressed and ready to kick some ass. âWhatever.â
Jason took the helmet from Dick, ignoring the smirk etched onto the blondeâs face.
âDonât fucking start with me.â Jason warned, eyes narrowing as he slipped the helmet on.
Dick opened his mouth, as though he were about to say something, but stopped.
âDo you hear that?â He asked, throwing Jason off guard.
âWhat?â
âDo you hear that?â Dick repeated. Jason rolled his eyes.
âDo I hear what, Dickhead?â
âYelling. Crying. Fighting?â Dick listened intently on the two voices rising from the apartment beneath Jasonâs.
Jason rolled his eyes again, already knowing what Dick was referring to. There was a couple that lived below him, a man and a woman. He never saw them, but he heard them. They would yell at each other at night sometimes, and a few times he heard breaking glass. He debated going downstairs to investigate on more than one occasion, but ultimately decided against it. It wasnât his business, and no one else seemed to care. It was easier to tune out the noise.
âItâs just the people downstairs. 11F. Theyâre always loud.â Jason shrugged, heading toward the window as he slipped the helmet over his head. âComing, Dickwing?â
âHey!â Dick scowled, hesitantly following Jason out the window. âDo you think theyâre okay?â
âIâm sure theyâre fine.â Jason assured him half-heartedly as they began jumping across the roofs of Gotham. âBesides, we donât make house calls, right? Batman would go ballistic if he found out we broke into someoneâs apartment to give them fucking relationship counseling.â
âI donât know, Red.â Dick looked back in the direction of Jasonâs apartment building. âI thought I heard cryingâŠâ
Jason didnât answer. He didnât want to think about it. Meddling with his neighbors as the Red Hood wasnât an option, and meddling with his neighbors as Jason would be even worse. It wasnât his business to question their relationship, and he wasnât even sure if they were arguing or having aggressive sex. Besides, anyone could easily start prying into his own life; questioning why he was always on the fire escape, why he left his apartment at weird hours, the strange bruises and cuts that sometimes marred his skin. He would risk drawing more attention to himself than he could risk.
Jason shook his head, erasing the concern from his mind. It was going to be a long night.
SERIES TRIGGERS: Cursing, domestic abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, mugging, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, sexual assault
Sometimes weâre drawn to people without knowing the reason, as if the universe has plans we donât yet understand. Thatâs what happened when Jason saw Rian, the quiet girl in his Lit class at Gotham Community College.Â
But Rian has some secrets of her own, including an abusive relationship that turns out to be more complicated than Jason initially realized.Â
What happens when the two fall for each other, and what will it take for Jason to convince Rian she deserves better than her toxic boyfriend?