#batman!au

[violettless]

Tim and Jason but specifically these

[hollyand-writes]

Here's six sentences of the Batman AU Carver/Merrill fic I started writing for the Black Emporium Rare Pair Exchange, and then had to abandon because I couldn't finish it before the deadline 😭  But here's the opening of the fic! 🦇 

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GARRETT HAWKE MISSING

Billionaire philanthropist ‘has been kidnapped’  

Famous rags-to-riches champion Garrett Hawke has been reported missing, the Kirkwall Herald has learned.

A refugee apostate turned billionaire philanthropist, Hawke resided in the well-known Hawke Estate in Hightown, formerly the Amell Estate, noted for its magnificent views over the city from the main balcony. Hawke’s mother Leandra Amell, who was celebrated for the lavish parties she held, had lived with him – but after her untimely demise some years ago, Hawke all but retired from high society, and has been reclusive ever since.

The household has confirmed that it believes Hawke ‘has been kidnapped by persons unknown’, while Varric Tethras, the owner of this newspaper, expressed his concern at the wellbeing of his missing friend, whom he called ‘the very best of Kirkwall’. 

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I know some of you have seen this “Six Sentence Sunday” already in the Discord server 😄  Anyway I tag everyone who has tagged me in various WIP-sharing things recently, so... @hobo-apostate, @noire-pandora, @wickedwitchofthewilds, @natsora, @aria-i-adagio, @laniardraws, @jentrevellan, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, as well as @gothkimmyschmidt, @inquisitoracorn, @a-shakespearean-in-paris, @pinkfadespirit, @ser-thirst-a-lot, @faux-fires, @dismalzelenka, @midnightprelude, @storybookhawke, @morganlefaye79, as well as anyone else who wants to do this! ❤️ 

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - 12

This link leads to my tdwk tag but I swear I’ll have a masterlist soon!

oh my fucking GOD guys i can’t believe that we made it this far??? just collectively? As a group? It’s been kinda incredible and I hope what I have satisfies you guys somewhat. it was super hard to conclude this segment so i hope you like it. anyway this chapter is SUPER long so get comfy. I love you. Enjoy!

Also I used this map of Gotham as a reference if that helps anyone

Aspen tries not to look like she was watching the other people in the subway. She’s trying to figure out how to arrange her face best to avoid attention. Did this kind of thing happen enough for her to look bored? Should she let herself be nervous? There were no inmates reported missing before she went underground. That was good, at least. For the inmates, she means. They were probably in more danger than she was - more danger that she would be in, soon.

Aspen tries to walk through her plan again. There’s not much of it. Getting to the island is going to be the hard part. She knew that on the Aparo Park side of Arkham Island, some sections were shallow enough to wade or swim across if she was careful and didn’t mind getting damp, and if she got on the island she was sure she’d be able to find the actual asylum. That was if she could actually get there, of course. Lately, the Gotham City Police had been taking a “better safe than story” approach, so they might cut off subway service at any moment. Aspen was hoping they didn’t cut off public transport until they were /sure/ it was an emergency. Last she heard, the asylum was being evacuated, but the subway lines just went under the island, maybe it wouldn’t be enough of an emergency. Ivey was still probably contained to the asylum, right? So they might run transport a little longer. Just a little longer. Before they realized they didn’t know how to fight her.

She reaches into a pocket of her backpack and digs around for hand cream. She wants an excuse to fidget. She’s so close. She’s so close.

Aw, fuck. She forgot her earbuds.

They hit University station no problem, then St. Albert. Aspen keeps her eyes trained on the gritty floor in front of her, shoulders hunched. She wants to look tired, like she’s just trying to get home after a long day. If she keeps still and quiet, maybe she can trick the world around her into thinking that she doesn’t care, she doesn’t need this. Maybe if she doesn’t think too hard about it, the universe will let her get to the island. That’s all she needs. She can take care of herself after that, she just needs to get there.

They hit River Park. It’s the last station before Aparo Park, the subway goes right under the island. Aspen grips her hands tighter as people leave the car. It’s quiet now. She tries not to think too hard. Is the train stalling at the station? The doors are still open. Fuck. She bites at her lower lip. She knows it’s going to be raw by the end of the night, no matter what ends up happening.

If service had stopped, they would have told her, right? The conductor would have made an announcement? Aspen holds her breath until the doors of the train car close and she can sigh in relief.

Home free.

She leans back in her seat as the train starts moving again. They can’t stop her now. Maybe that’s a bad thing. Maybe she shouldn’t be trying to get to this stupid island.

Aspen had taken this trip a few times, meeting up with people in the north part of Gotham. Brunch in the Hill, that sort of thing. The trip under the asylum feels longer now, though, and Aspen tries not to think about the weight of the water overtop of her. She takes deep breaths and keeps an eye on the ad in front of her. Focusing on it helps her nerves a little. It’s about not littering cigarette butts. That’s good of the city to point out. So many people smoke around here.

It’s probably the stress.

Wait. The train is slowing down. Aspen sits up, looking around anxiously as the train comes to a stop. All she can see is black tunnel walls outside. Fuck.

Maybe it’s just a delay. They can’t leave a train car full of civilians in a tunnel under an asylum undergoing incredible structural damage from plant roots, or whatever. They have to take her to the other side, right? Even if it takes a minute or two.

Breathe, she reminds herself. Don’t panic. Not before you get to the fight. Once Ivey’s trying to strangle you with a vine, then you can panic.

“Uh, attention, passengers.” Aspen crosses her fingers in her lap. “We are currently experiencing service interruptions on the Waterfront line due to an emergency on Arkham Island. We’re going to be returning to the Island Centre of Gotham City as soon as the tunnel behind us clears. Thanks for your patience.”

Fuck. Aspen feels her skin go cold. That’s it. They stopped her. Her night is over unless she can find a way out of this car. Again, something takes over her. She’s come too far with a textbook and a cookie sheet as armour in her fucking backpack to turn back now.

...Maybe she could take her chances in the subway tunnel. Aspen knows time is running out, but she makes herself sit still and think it through, heart pounding. It was unlikely that any trains were going to be coming through, now. And this was Gotham. Tunnels crisscrossed the entire archipelago, and there might even be a shortcut through the tunnels. Worst comes to worst, she emerged at Aparo and found her way across the river from there.

She springs up from her seat, getting looks from the other passengers in the car. “My kid sister is home alone uptown.” She lies to no one, looking around desperately for an emergency exit. Nothing in this car. When she rattles the doors, they won’t open. She probably looks crazy. She doesn’t fucking care.

Maybe there’s something in the next compartment. She doesn’t waste time before she wheels around towards the door connecting the cars and slips through. It’s darker in there, when it rattles shut behind her. She takes a deep breath in the brief privacy it allows her. This line has older trains, and the passages between cars are little vinyl accordions, with a metal walkway connecting them. They’re welcome, right now.

Now that she’s had a moment to think, Aspen’s willing to bet that if she takes the emergency exit, some alarm will go off, and maybe the conductors or GCPD will get involved. She can’t afford that. If she gets arrested Calum could downright fire her. Maybe he’d helpfully get one of his friends across the country to offer her a job. Maybe he wouldn’t. It’s just a big risk to take. The train’s gonna start moving any minute. Aspen needs a quieter way off this train, now. Her hand wrapped around the little knife in her pocket as she pressed her hand in, trying to think.

Wait. She felt the cold, smooth edges of the knife, letting her fingers trace over it slowly as she thought. That was one way out.

Adrenaline surges through her and she unfolds the pocket knife, gripping it tightly before stabbing out into the dimness around her. It bounces off the fabric, but Aspen can see a line of white threads where the knife tore it, just a little. Fuck, she really shouldn’t be doing this. Again, she stabs down, and this time she feels cool air from the tunnel when the fabric audibly rips. She presses the knife into the slash she made, dragging the knife down, kneeling to get it low enough make a hole big enough for her to squeeze through. The train lurches, there’s no time to think - she takes off her backpack and pushes it through, and then wiggles herself through. She drops gracelessly to the tunnel floor, feeling gravel stick into the palms of her hands as she presses herself up. She flattens herself to the wall of the tunnel and closes her eyes as the train rushes by, gathering speed - it’s a foot away from her at best, and it is so, so loud. Lights flash against her eyelids.

And then it’s gone.

Aspen can hear the train rattling away down the tunnel, and she opens her eyes. She blinks to try and adjust her vision, but the tunnel is pitch. She fumbles for her phone, flips on the flashlight. Out of curiosity, she checks her reception. No bars. Shocker. Still, if Calum’s tracking her, he’s gonna be scratching his head now.

It’s a fun thought, but she’s sure he’s busy. If something happens down here, she’s on her own.

Well. She’d better get moving, then.

The tunnel is cold, but the air is dry and musty, not wet with mold. Aspen doesn’t know if it’s her imagination or if there’s actually something scurrying around the darkness with her, but she tries not to panic. Rats are one step away from the lab mice she handles all the time, now, she can handle them. Even if they are the size of cats, like she’s heard. Oh, fuck. She really didn’t need to be thinking about that.

She should worry about how she was going to get out of here. She keeps a hand on the wall as she walked, so she didn’t get turned around in the darkness, even with the stark beam of the flashlight in front of her. These tunnels could quickly become catacombs. In fact, with Gotham’s history of crime, there were probably a few bodies rattling around here. Fuck. She really had to focus, Jesus. She couldn’t scare herself down here, where the air seemed to reach down her throat and pull moisture from her lungs. Fuck.

Aspen stopped and rubbed her head. She couldn’t personify the fucking darkness around her. That was how she scared herself stupid. That was how she got hurt.

Aspen keeps walking. She was careful to keep the flashlight beam trained ahead of her, avoiding stray rocks and the tracks. She wasn’t sure which rail was electrified, and she didn’t want to find out. It was quiet, thankfully. She starts humming, some pop hit she heard on the radio. 

Her feet crunched along the ground more or less to the beat, and she kept on like that, for a while. She checked her phone for the time. It didn’t matter, she didn’t know where she was.

“’Cause you’ve been acting so conspicuous,” Aspen sings, enjoying the reverb as it dulls her fear a little. “You flip it on me, say I think too much, you’re moving different when we’re making... Fuck. ”

The tunnel split before her. Tracks curved to her right. On her left, the tunnel was strewn with even more debris. It could lead to the island surface, or it could be a dead end. Aspen knew, at least, where the tunnel on the right was heading. Aparo Park station wasn’t far from the river, and once she actually got to the island’s surface she was sure that she could find the massive asylum surrounded by cops easily enough.

She stands there for a second, staring at the tunnels. The tunnels stare back.

Fuck. She pictures the Gotham area in her head. The subway tunnels run to the left of the asylum, right? So she should go left. Wait, fuck, she had no idea where she was.

Aspen took another deep breath and tried to think. Was there another way she could figure out how close she was to the surface?

Ugh. She feels like a dumbass, but she sticks a finger in her mouth real quick to wet it and then holds it out, upright, to feel for a draft. She closes her eyes, even though it’s already dark as hell, and tries to focus.

Left. The left side is colder. Is she sure?

Well, what the hell, if it’s a dead end she’ll find out soon enough.

Aspen opens her eyes and starts down the left side. It quickly becomes much more challenging - there’s more rocks to avoid, and she tries not to think about what happens if she sprains her ankle down here. No room for error. No trips, no mistakes. If she makes it out of this Calum is going to have to acknowledge her. She’s doing good fucking work. She better get a fuckin’, fuckin’ Purple Heart. 

But she made the right choice. Soon she can feel a draft on her face, and she can smell water. Maybe she’s on the wrong side of the river, but she doesn’t have to navigate the tunnel out of Aparo, at least. Encouraged, she moves even faster, jogging gently despite the weight of her bag.

It feels good. Somehow she didn’t think she’d get this far.

The wind picks up. Aspen rounds a corner to see her way out - the tunnel opens up into a concrete structure, long and low. It’s dark; there aren’t really any windows. The only way out she can see is right ahead, two big doors with a grate up top. She can see Gotham’s light pollution through the bars. She picks up a rock. She has a feeling that door’s not going to open easy.

She’s right. The door flexes when she shakes it, but there seems to be something on the outside keeping it closed. Fear grips her again. The door isn’t too thick; it feels like aluminum when she steps back. Aspen takes another look; there are rusty hinges on the inside, facing her. A plan takes shape in her mind almost instantly, and she kneels down and puts her phone carefully out of the way before smashing the rock down on the hinge closest to the floor. The sound of angry metals reverberates around the concrete structure, making her wince, but she hits it again, and then again before the metal starts to bend and shear away from the doorframe. Yes. 

Aspen feels like a fucking caveman, and she’s sure that half the island can hear her, but she prays there’s enough chaos to cover the noise. With a little hard work, she manages to get the hinge off in twisted pile on the ground.

Okay. That’s step one.

Aspen grabs her phone to get it out of the way, stands up, and kicks at the newly freed corner of the door experimentally. It dents. Okay. Grabbing on to the wall for support, she kicks out again and again, wishing she had worn boots instead of sneakers. No matter. The door slowly crumples like paper, creating a space big enough for her to wiggle through, probably. Thank God for aluminum. 

Aspen shakes off the backpack, clambers down on to her belly, and shoves it through the hole. The edges of the metal catch, and she has to push hard to get the bag through. This might hurt, she thinks, and then she drops her head and starts to squirm after her backpack. Metal scratches down her back, digging into her ass and her thighs, but once she stands she checks and her pants aren’t ripped. Not that it would matter. It’s such a casual worry for this night. It barely stings. 

Fuck. She did it. She’s here! And she doesn’t have a fancy car or help from the cops or anything. Calum can eat her entire ass, oh my god.

A thought crosses her mind: if he’s not here she’s going to lose her shit.

Aspen makes herself regroup, turning off her flashlight, closing her eyes and breathing slow. She can hear sirens. So that’s where she’s heading next. Slowly, she opens her eyes, but she can’t see any lights to indicate the Asylum. No matter. She’ll find them.

She should get an update on the situation. She opens her phone, trying not to think about how it will fuck with her night vision to check this shit. She googles “updates gotham asylum” and skims the first page of results. The asylum is being searched for any remaining inmates where possible, where the plant growth isn’t too dangerous. The bulk of them are being temporarily removed to Blackgate. She’ll keep an eye out for any patients but as long as it’s not one of the serial killers she thinks she’ll be able to hold her own.

Maybe she’ll keep her rock, just in case.

The landscape of the island is mostly scrubby. There’s a utility road, or what’s left of one, leading out of the little valley with the abandoned tunnel. Maybe, back when the Gotham subway was being built, the asylum was going to be a stop. It makes Aspen feel a little weird, thinking about what could have been here other the facility and a sewage processing plant. Maybe if people lived here, if there was ice cream shops and shoe stores and a grocer’s, the people behind the walls wouldn’t feel so angry and alone.

She has to turn off the road to follow the sirens. The bushes smack into her arms, and she has to train her eyes carefully on the ground to keep from tripping. They’re moving, she realizes, not the branches but the cars, and she starts to run, looking for the road. The sirens are intermittent, like birds calling and responding.

The road appears quickly, and now she can see flashing lights bouncing off the trees and everything else. The cop cars are in motion; they seem to be escorting a bus full of prisoners somewhere, and she’s willing to bet where they’re leaving is where she wants to be.

It’s easy, from there. Aspen has been exiled for this, kept from everything she wanted, crawled through vinyl and dirt and rust for this. Finding the actual asylum is simple.

Arkham Asylum has big gates, really big Gothic ones. As Aspen gets closer, she realizes they’re closed. Well, maybe they’ll just let her in. She can’t be an inmate, they’d have to, obviously she’s on the wrong side of the fence.

If she hadn’t slowed down to take the asylum in, she wouldn’t have heard him. She has just come down to a walk when she heard the ground behind her crunch. Someone was there. She didn’t have time to think before she wheeled around, rock raised, ready to smash their fucking head in.

The Batman knocked her hand aside, sending the rock flying harmlessly out of her grip. Aspen grabbed her wrist stupidly as he looms over her. He looks so much bigger in that suit, devoid of all the tiny softnesses that made him recognizable as Calum. No wonder it took her so long to realize back at that construction site.

They’re both frozen for a while. All that time in the tunnel, and she still had no idea what to say to him.

“What do you think you’re doing.” He says, taking a step towards her. It’s not a question. Fuck, she’s in trouble

Aspen retreats, taking another step towards the gates. Her mind feels slow with nerves. “You wouldn’t let me see you in your office.”

It’s dark out, but she gets the feeling he rolls his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you I was trying to keep you safe? How did you even - it doesn’t matter. You’re leaving. Now.” Calum reaches out fast and grabs her bicep before she can move away. She feels like a kitten, and he’s got her by the scruff of her proverbial neck. He almost lifts her off her feet.

“No! Let me go.” Aspen kicks out for his shins, connects with armour. It hurts her more than it hurts him. He’s not listening.

“Don’t struggle.”

“I know how you can beat her! Calum, I -”

“That’s not my name. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Calum says, dragging her along. Aspen doesn’t know where he’s intending to put her, but she does know it’s not fucking happening. She’s staying.

“Burning the plants isn’t gonna work!” She yells. Fuck subtlety. Maybe Gordon will listen to her, if the cops find her before Calum puts her somewhere she can’t kick her way out of.

But, wonder of wonders, Calum stops. He freezes. Aspen’s dangling on her tiptoes, trying to balance herself. “I know that plant. It’s called jute and it’s gonna be super green. Burning it is gonna damage the asylum more than Pamela Ivey.” The cowl tilts. He’s listening. She tries to catch her breath. “Cold is gonna be way more effective. You fought that Professor Freeze -”

“Victor Fries.”

“Whatever. I mean, yeah.” Aspen covers quickly. She’s taking this seriously, she swears. “I’m willing to bet you have some of his cryogenic tech stored away. You can freeze the plants to keep them from growing more and maintain the structural integrity long enough to get any remaining inmates out. Then you might even be able to shatter them with that sonic blast thing you’re trying to sell to the military.”

Calum lowers his arm a little, and Aspen finds her footing again. “How did you know about all that?”

Aspen takes her chance, and yanks her arm out of his grip. It’s not as satisfying as it should be. They both know that he’s letting her break away. “Does it matter? I’m trying to fucking help you.” She says, taking a step out of his reach again. Her shoulder burns like the frusteration in the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t need your help.” The Batman turns his face away.

“Obviously you do.”

The cowl is pretty face-absorbing, but Aspen could swear she saw his jaw flex. “You’re a distraction. I can’t have you getting into trouble for me while I’m trying to save Gotham.”

“For you?” Aspen repeats. Fuck it, she is angry now, she gets into his space again. “You think I came all the fuckin’ way out here solely for your benefit?”

Lighting quick, he reaches out and grabs her face. She stills immediately, his eyes boring into hers. She doesn’t dare move. “Every time I look at you I see that cut you got trying to keep me safe. Do you know what that’s like?” Calum turns her head, forcing her to face the side. She can feel his eyes tracing the cut on her cheek. His grip on her jaw is dangerous - it’s barely not strong enough to hurt her. Just. He wants her to know how easily he could make this hurt.

Aspen doesn’t give a shit. She’s so mad her brain turns to angry static, and her mouth hangs open. How fucking dare he.

He pushes her so she stumbles back in her furious daze. “I’m not going to let that happen again. Now, you can go quietly into a cop car and get a nice ride home, or I can -”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“What?”

“You’re an asshole.” Aspen repeats. Her hand flies to her face, tracing the ridges of the raised scar. “You think I did this for you? God, you’re so fucking selfish.” He is quiet. Not that she notices. She’s too mad to think about what he’s doing. She just wants him to hurt.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” She laughs. “I kept my mouth shut because I knew that the second I talked, they were gonna kill me. That’s all. I wasn’t trying to keep you safe, you jackass. I was trying to save my life. God,” she mocks his voice, “do I know what that’s like. It’s my fucking face! How do you think I feel!” She’s shaking. She has to catch her breath. She hasn’t been so angry in a long time.

The mask remains impassive, but - “I’m sorry.” He says. Aspen blinks. It sounds weird, in his Batman rasp.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry it’s such a fucking burden for you to look at me. What a martyr. Thank God you’re around to make these difficult fucking choices for me, right?” She snaps at him.

“I’m sorry.” Calum says through gritted teeth. Aspen’s not worried. As if his anger could catch up to hers. “Listen, this isn’t the time.”

“I’m not gonna give you the chance to kick me out again. Every time you see me you’re trying to make it the last time and you know what? I’m fucking sick of it!” She shakes her head, as if that will clear it. “You should have let me help when I offered in the first place.”

Calum shakes his head. “No.” He says, simply.

“Fuck you.” Aspen snaps, dropping her backpack off her back. She had never wanted to shake the sense into someone before, but she was about to try. That was worth losing her protection for. Let her get shot. Obviously he would feel it more, that fucking asshole.

“Go home.” Calum says, looking around. The gates of the asylum loom up behind him. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“If I’m not halfway to Central City by then!”

Calum’s face is inches from hers. “Aspen. Thank you for your help. Now, get off this island before you get hurt again.”

Aspen shakes her head. She makes herself take a deep breath. It stills something inside her, and she can finally properly look at him. Calum’s eyes are dark in the sockets of his mask, and his chest is heaving. He’s mad, too. Goddamn, they keep fucking doing this to themselves.

He’s so close she can smell that cologne he uses, even through the suit. They both realize how close they are at the same moment, but neither one steps back. Aspen is suddenly waiting for him to kiss her, but all he does is let out a little sigh. He doesn’t move. Not an inch.

“I have to do everything myself, don’t I?” She says, and then she grabs that stupid fucking cowl and yanks him in and kisses him.

Maybe he lets her drag him in, or maybe he’s surprised. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s kissing her back ferociously, pressing his tongue at the seam of her lips almost immediately. Aspen opens her mouth so he can feel her teeth. Her fingernails find seams in his armour and she drags herself closer, pressing her body against his. His hand finds the soft place above her hip and he digs his fingers in, pulling her closer. Calum pushes back; he presses in, kissing her so hard she has to tilt her head back and cling to him to stand upright. His teeth dig into her bottom lip, and Aspen’s body jolts as he pulls back slowly, until she feels like her whole body is going to snap. When he lets go suddenly and lets her lip fall back into place, they stare at each other, chests heaving, sharing a breath in the tiny space.

“Fuck,” Calum growls, and he grabs her thighs, lifting her and pressing her against one of the brick pillars by the gate so fast the air is knocked out of her lungs. He kisses her hard, fingers digging into her thighs as he tries to devour her. Aspen whimpers into his mouth, she can’t help it. She wants to be able to pull his hair. She wants to feel him so bad. Calum kisses like a tsunami, all overwhelming force like he’s trying to knock her over and over until she doesn’t know which way is up. Usually Aspen has tricks, she kisses like she’s trying to hint at what else her mouth is good at. This time there’s none of that. She just has to cling to him, wrap her legs around his waist and let his lips envelop her.

She wraps her arms around his neck and grinds down on him as they kiss, feeling short of breath in the best fucking way. Calum’s hands move up to her ass, helping her roll her body against his. Aspen doesn’t know how this happened and she doesn’t fucking care, she just wants to kiss him forever. God, she wishes she could feel him. All of him.

When Calum pulls back, she doesn’t care, she chases his mouth until he grabs her hair to keep her from getting caught up in another kiss. She whines, and when she opens her eyes he’s smirking at her. That’s mean. She squirms against him, mouth half open, knowing she’s desperate and not fucking caring. Calum makes a small sound, a fond one, she thinks, even though it’s weird hearing tenderness come from him, from the Batman, and he leans in again -

Aspen jumps when the sound of metal shrieks out behind her. The gates are opening. Batman moves fast - he moves back so she drops down from where he had her pinned, and tucks her under his arm as a cop car, lights flashing, pulls through the gate. “Wait,” Aspen says, as he pulls her towards the road. The car’s stopped in front of them. He’s trying to kick her out again. “Wait, please, I want to stay.” It sounds pathetic in her own ears as the officer steps out.

Calum ignores her. “Take this civilian back to the city centre. She’s in danger.” He orders the cop, grabbing her by the shoulder to pull her out from the security of his chest. His thumb is on her spine.

“No, I’m not - I’m not going!” Aspen cries, but this cop obviously is on the Batman’s side, he grabs her other arm and helps pull her away.

“Miss, miss, come on, let’s get you out of -”

“I need to stay!” Aspen says, turning to him wild-eyed. “I’m here to help, please -” She turns around to plead with Calum again, and he’s just gone. The ground where he stood is empty. A disappearing act. It shocks her so much she goes still and stops fighting the cop.

He left her. Again.

The officer isn’t as impressed as she at the Batman’s little trick. He’s still tugging at her. Aspen gives in quietly, numbly lets him get her in the backseat of his car. Her mouth is still wet from his kisses. She had really thought she was going to win this one. She didn’t even get to see Poison Ivy!

Pushed to the side again. She was starting to get used to it.

The cop asked her a few conversational questions, in a friendly sort of way. He knows the officers from her last ride in a cop car. She’s famous, almost. Aspen didn’t answer him except to tell him where to drop her off. She felt sick. It should have been raining; she should have been soaked and shivering, making the scene even more pathetic. But no, the stars were stubbornly out, and she could see them even through the bars.

“See that?” The cop says.

Aspen didn’t respond.

“‘S one of the Bat’s drones. He uses them for bringing in artillery.”

Aspen looks, even though she tries not to do it too obviously. Something does wizz over the car. Maybe that’s the freeze gun. Maybe she did help.

Well, it’s gonna be the last fucking contribution she ever makes in Gotham.

Calum’s not going to let her stay, now. She’s proven herself to be too much trouble. Aspen’s heart aches. Fuck, she has got to stop kissing him. It never seems to end well. 

Also, cop car back seats are fucking uncomfortable. She couldn’t have sat in the front this time?

“Oh, sh- hey, I forgot my backpack. We need to go back.” Aspen realized. Stupid.

The cop just shakes his head. “No can do, miss. You heard the Bat. We’ll find a way to get it back to you later.” She slumps back into the plastic back seat, kicking herself for leaving her backpack behind.

Aspen doesn’t offer herself the wild hope that she’ll be allowed to stay. What had Calum said that day in her office, again? What were the terms of her exile? They were still pretending she didn’t know, then, so there was nothing explicit, but she’s pretty sure that vandalizing a subway car, trespassing through the tunnels under the island, and running all over Arkham Island is in violation of her parole.

Aspen doesn’t cry until she’s safely at home. She shuts the door to the apartment and leans against it and she can’t move, she just stands there and cries silently until she can move apart her apartment, face twisted with tears, and shuck off her clothes to shower. Dirt swirls around the drain. Fuck, she has an early morning tomorrow. Her last morning, probably. It hurts her to think how easily Calum can make her disappear out here.

She checks the news, standing in her towel in the bathroom after fishing her phone out of her pocket. Poison Ivy has been recaptured. It doesn’t feel like a triumph.

She collapses into bed, muscles grateful, but it takes her a long, long time to fall asleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aspen hums to the mice. Take Good Care of My Baby. It’s a cute little 50s tune. Yes, she knows it’s stupid, the mice aren’t her babies, but she’s feeling fucking sentimental, alright, it’s probably her last day.

She hates saying goodbye to places. It feels like Goodnight Moon. She says a fond farewell to every sink, every coat rack, even the counter she banged her hip on every other day. She’s just cleaning up when she hears Ashton come in, yelling her name, and she braces herself for the worst kind of parting.

“Mac, where are you? Oh, still with the mice.” Ashton comes in, practically panting. “I just got off the phone with Mr. Hood. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving us?”

No. God, her stomach sinks. He must be really pissed, if he didn’t have the decency to tell her himself she was being transferred. Fuck. “I’m really sorry.” Aspen says, turning to face him. “If I had known sooner, I would have told you. I never wanted to leave you shorthanded.”

“No, no.” Ashton says, smiling. Aspen’s heart squeezes in her chest. He’s glad to get rid of her. Fuck, was she really that much of a burden after the incident? “Don’t worry about us. Holy shit!” He hugs her. Aspen would hug him back, only she’s kind of in a state of shock. She hadn’t realized her recent work was that bad. “You’re gonna come visit us, right?”

“...I mean, as often as I can, it’s just kinda far.”

Ashton laughed again, and actually leaned back to pick her up and spin her around. “Kinda far, she says. You deserve this, Mac.” He says, once he sets her down. “I’m so proud of you.” He holds her at arm’s length. He is beaming.

Wait, what the fuck? “Thanks.” Aspen mumbled as an afterthought. She doesn’t know what’s going on. “What, uh, what exactly did Mr. Hood tell you about?”

“Your lab.” Ashton blinks at her. “The lab you’re heading. You’re supposed to be meeting him there any minute now. I just wanted to congratulate you before you headed up.”

What? “I, uh, just wanted to make sure I could tell you everything. He told me to, um, just kind of, kind of keep everything under wraps until it was all official. I didn’t want to jinx anything.” Aspen steps out of Ashton’s range, moving around him quickly, peeling off her lab coat. She has to get up there. She checks her phone; nothing. Another test. “I better head up. I’ll be down soon, alright? I’ll be right back.” She says, as if that will make it true.

“Yeah, of course. Good luck, Mac. I mean, I’m sure you won’t need luck, you’ve already got the lab, but -” Aspen walks out on him as he continued on. It’s rude of her. She didn’t care. She worried her hands as she headed for the elevator.

Where the fuck was she even going? Aspen got in the elevator, mercifully empty, and stared at the panel for a moment. What floor were the Hood Tech labs on again? She knows she’s not nearly of that caliber, but it’s her best bet. Aspen hits the button and prays as the door closes. She counts the floors, like it’s some strange countdown to a bomb detonating. Calum wouldn’t get Ashton to lie to her about a lab, he wouldn’t hurt her like that. Was this her transfer? Was that what it was? Was he meeting with her to give her this pretty consolation prize? What if she’s not even going to the right spot?

Aspen shuffles back as the elevator fills and empties, like the tides. She has a long way to go, a long vertical ride for her to chew on her lip and wrestle with her hands. It feels like ages later when she steps out of the elevator, alone, on the Hood Tech landing.

Calum is there.

“You found me,” He says, smiling, and Aspen can’t believe it. She’s actually incredulous. He’s never smiled at her like that - all sunny and unguarded like nothing’s happened. Like they’re both unscarred.

Aspen just nods. She doesn’t know what it’s safe to say yet. Calum can see how worried she is, and he puts a big hand on her shoulder to soothe her.

Out of all the freaky shit Aspen’s seen since she came into his office, this might top everything.

“I need to thank you for your help last night.” He says as he starts to guide her down the hall.

Okay, that’s now the freakiest. 

Aspen doesn’t peek into the doors around her, this time. She keeps her eyes on him. “You thanked me then.” She says, cautiously. So they can just… talk about this? They can just do that?

“Not properly.” He’s excited - Aspen has to hurry to keep up with him again. “Your strategy was invaluable. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner, but - and how did you even get on the island?”

He’s beaming. That’s the word she’s looking for, Calum is beaming. Aspen feels it on her skin like the sun. “Subway tunnel.”

He shakes his head. “I thought so.” Grinning, he stops at a closed door and waves a key card in front of a sensor. A light turns green and he pushes the door open. “I arranged something for you. As a thank you.” He keeps looking at her, like an expectant kid watching someone open a present. This is for you”

It really is a lab. Well, not yet, but it will be. There are benches and monitors and it’s all white and clean, waiting for her to fill it with what she needs to save her corner of the world. Aspen’s not being sent away. She’s not going anywhere. She gets to stay. She gets all this.

She should say something. She can feel Calum looking at her expectantly, and she fucking hopes he can see the joy shining on her face, but she can’t think of what to say. “...I thought you were transferring me.” She says after a moment. Wait, no, that’s not what she means. She turns to face him properly. “I mean, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Calum squeezes her shoulder gently. His hand starts to wander up a little more, fingers just brushing the edges of the skin of her neck exposed by her shirt. Aspen tries not to think about it. “You deserve it. Just let me know what you need, I’ll see to it for you. I didn’t know what equipment you’d need, but -”

“It’s perfect.” Aspen says. “Don’t worry about it. It’s perfect.” She wants to kiss him. Fuck, she can’t say enough how much this means to her, she wants to show him. She holds off, though. She can’t fuck this up now.

But she can’t wait. She settles for throwing her arms around him in a hug, and with his lightning fast reflexes Calum hugs her back, folds her into his chest and rests his head on hers like he was waiting for this. If he was waiting, she wouldn’t have been mad. He could be one step ahead of her on this one.

Too soon, he pulls back, but he keeps his hands on her so she faces him square. He checks over his shoulder to make sure the door is closed, face sober for a second, then - “This support isn’t conditional on you working with me as… As Batman.” He takes a deep breath. “But I’d really appreciate it if you considered -”

“Yes.” Aspen says, too fast. She laughs at herself nervously. This is incredible. “I mean, I fuckin’ considered it pretty hard last night, if we’re speaking freely, sir.”

Calum laughs at that, ducking his head. When he raises it, Aspen shifts in his arms; he’s looking at her so tenderly she can’t breathe. “There are a few conditions.” He says, once he’s caught his breath and found a way to arrange his face into something other than a grin. He pulls away, trying to take on the Calum-Hood-CEO pose she’s seen him do in so many meetings. His stern face isn’t entirely convincing. Aspen loves it.

“Hit me.”

“I- okay.” Calum chuckles again before getting himself back under control. “The big thing is you don’t come into the field with me. That’s non-negotiable. I’ll give you a direct comm link to me at all times, whatever you want, but I am not putting you in the line of fire. Don’t start.” He warns as Aspen opens her mouth to protest. He’s really stern, now. He means this one.

She closes her mouth. “Fine.”

Calum gives her a look that is so unbearably soft she thinks she might fall apart. “You train every day with me at the manor.” He continues. “Every day. You also need to be available at all times. If I call, you head straight here, no questions asked. You can pursue any research you want in your spare time, but if you take this on I’d expect your priority to be supporting me.”

Any research? Aspen’s heart almost jumps out of her throat. This is worth the bloodshed. This is worth every sleepless night. And he’s finally gonna let her do her work. “I - yes. Of course.” She says, nodding seriously despite the happiness bubbling inside her.

“You should take your time with this choice.”

It sounds like Calum is trying to warn her, but Aspen doesn’t give a shit. “With all due respect, Cal, you couldn’t keep me away from this if you tried.” She says, stepping into the lab to explore in case he decides to try and drag her out. “And, in fact, you have. And it didn’t work out for you.”

“Don’t be smug.” Calum says behind her. He’s smiling. She can hear it. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“I’m right, though.” Aspen says, pulling a wheely-chair out from a desk experimentally. Her backpack is placed on her seat. Her backpack! “Oh my god, you brought my bag in for me?” She says, turning around to face him.

“Yeah, what were you doing at Arkham Asylum with a biochemistry textbook?” Calum asks, tilting his head to the side as he walks over.

“It was supposed to help if anyone shot at me from behind.” Calum snorts out a laugh, and doesn’t try to hide it. Mean, she thinks fondly. “Hey, listen, we don’t all have multi-million dollar corporations behind us to make custom suits or whatever.” She pouts, but he just laughs again and walks towards her.

“I’ll order you a bulletproof backpack.”

“Oh, you can actually do that?”

“Sir.” He reminds her, but he’s smiling, like it’s an inside joke.

Aspen shakes her head and grins. “Oh, fuck off, we’re way past that, sir.”

Calum grabs the backpack out of her hands and before it hits the floor he is kissing her. He grabs her hips, pressing her back against the desk as his tongue curls languidly into her mouth. Aspen’s body melts into his and she finally, finally gets to weave her fingers into his hair and tug on it gently. Calum kisses like a fucking dream like this, all unhurried and so happy his lips are always in danger of stiffening into a smile. Aspen loves it.

When Calum pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers. His lips are parted, and Aspen knows if she tries she can dart in and kiss him again. But she resists that urge; she stays still. She doesn’t want to make a sudden move and have him pull away again. And after a long moment, Calum connects their lips again. His thumbs dig into the soft areas above her hips, but this kiss is short, it’s sweet. He pulls away, far enough that she can see it clearly when he smiles at her.

But then he hesitates.

“I don’t - I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to do this.”

Fuck that. He kissed her this time. Aspen’s had enough of this. “Then let me go.”

He doesn’t.

They’re quiet for a few moments more. Aspen takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want to be a woman who just bends over backward for someone, asks for nothing and starves. But right now, this is what she wants. She likes that he’s the only one who can keep up with her, the only person who makes her feel so unsteady, free even if it’s free-fall.

“Hey,” she says, quietly, “I don’t expect ‘normal’ from you. I know what the reality of this is. I don’t need any promises, I don’t want you to feel like I’m your weakness, but - don’t keep pushing me away. Either cut this off right now, or just - let me keep kissing you. But don’t leave me hanging here. One or the other. Please.”

Calum’s still holding her hips as he looks at her. For once, Aspen doesn’t feel afraid. No matter what comes next, she knows she can take it. Fuck, she spent all that time alone chained to a chair, she can cut Calum out of her heart easy now that she’s been through that.

And she knows she can handle his love.

Calum leans in again, but Aspen lets go of his hair to put a hand to his chest, stopping him even as his lips puckered. “Don’t.” She says, meeting his eyes. “Don’t kiss me if it’s gonna be a goodbye.”

He swallows hard. Aspen can see his Adam’s apple bob. He reaches up to cup her face, running his thumb along the scar on her cheek. She jolts. She’s never let anyone touch her there. No one who knew her, no one who wasn’t wearing gloves. His touch is gentle, his hand warm. She swears she can feel the ridges of his fingertips.

Calum kisses her, and God, it feels good.

“You gave me a heart attack. You scared me.” She jokes when he pulls away, and he laughs, throwing his head back. His eyes shine when he looks back at her.

“I didn’t mean to - Listen, I really have to go, I have meetings all morning, but I’ll come see you after. We need to get you set up as soon as possible, alright, Penny?”

How long had he been thinking about calling her that? Aspen doesn’t care. Well, maybe she did. She could ask now. She doesn’t have to pretend so much anymore. “How long have you been thinking about calling me that?” She asks, tilting her head.

He rolls his eyes at her, looking away like he’s embarrassed to be asked. Her heart swells. Fuck, he’s perfect. “Too long. You don’t mind it?” Calum asks finally. He means it, he’s unsure. She can see it in his eyes.

“No one calls me that. It’s… kinda sweet.” She says, and she means it, too.

“It suits you.” He says, squeezing her hip before letting her go to head for the door. “Listen, I’ll bring lunch from that place you like when I come back?”

This is how it ends, then. He leaves her alone to sort out the lab, sort out everything. Aspen’s not totally naive; they’ll talk business at lunch, and then they’ll talk pleasure. She’s willing to bet Calum will have come up with a crazy list of rules by then, try to polarize this. She can take him, though. She can take him. After that, more work, and then there will be a date, or maybe not. He’ll probably get all dressed up tonight, in a suit of one sort or another.

What the hell, she can’t predict how her days are going to go from here on out. The thought kinda thrills her. She just smiles around her empty lab and starts to get to work.

-

But that’s not how it all ends.

The adventures of Calum and Aspen will continue in “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat”, coming soon to a blog near you!

[terriblelifechoices]

💖 Send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile! 💖 (💖 have a lovely day!💖)

Thanks, anon!  I hope you have a lovely day, too!

I wasn’t sure what kind of fic you’d enjoy, so I hope you don’t mind getting a bit of one of my FBAWTFT AU’s.

This one’s a Batman!AU.  I don’t have much beyond this.  But, basically, Graves is Batman, Theseus is Alfred, and Credence, Chastity and Modesty are Graves’ wards who will eventually be part of the Batfamily.  Just as soon as they figure out that Graves is Batman.

They have not exactly figured that out yet.  

In which cookies are eaten, and Theseus and Percival discuss comparative mythologies.  Or, two versions of how Theseus and Percival met.  Both are terrible for Credence’s blood pressure.

Chastity noticed the silence first.

It wasn’t that Modesty couldn’t be quiet – Ma believed that children should be seen and not heard and had raised them all accordingly – it was just that she usually wasn’t.  Especially not now that she was finally free of Ma’s influence.

Technically, Chastity thought, all of them were free of Ma’s influence.  She wasn’t sure she ever would be, and she didn’t have half the scars or the hurts that Credence did.  Credence had seen to that.

Dr. Queenie would have disapproved of that last thought.  She would have been careful not to say so, but Chastity had grown up with the minefield of Ma’s temper.  She could tell when Dr. Queenie disapproved.

Dr. Queenie would have told her not to take Credence’s hurts as her own.  “Everyone has their own hurts, honey,” she would have said.  “You have to let them carry theirs, just like you carry your own.”

That refrain was so familiar Chastity could practically hear Dr. Queenie’s soft, gentle voice inside her head.

Chastity resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the imaginary Dr. Queenie.  Dr. Queenie didn’t get it.  That was what they did, she and Credence and Modesty.  The three of them had no one else.  She and Credence had done their best to keep the worst of their burdens from Modesty, but Modesty was too smart for her own good.  It was impossible to keep everything from her.

Still.  They hadn’t done all that badly.  Out of all of them, Modesty had the fewest scars, physical or otherwise.  She’d also settled into their new life the fastest.

It helped, Chastity thought, that Theseus and Mr. Graves actually seemed to like Modesty’s irrepressible curiosity.  Neither of them ever seemed to get impatient or even the slightest bit angry when Modesty asked question after question, no matter how inappropriate or embarrassing.

Chastity went down the stairs, heading for Theseus’ kitchen.

She liked Theseus’ kitchen.  It was airy and bright and clean, stuffed full of every kitchen gadget known to man.  She suspected that was Mr. Graves’ doing, because Theseus rarely used any of them, preferring to cook the way Chastity had been taught: with glass mixing bowls and a well-loved set of pots and pans.  It was the sort of kitchen Chastity had dreamed about when Ma was teaching her to cook.  A woman’s place was in the kitchen, when it wasn’t underneath her husband, and she’d dreamed of a place that could be hers – just hers.  And surely, if she pleased her husband enough – if he enjoyed her cooking enough – then surely she could have one place where she wouldn’t be expected to spread her legs and smile.

The kitchen at Graves Manor belonged to Theseus, though.  It would never be hers.

Chastity didn’t mind.  Theseus knew how to cook everything.  He let her help, sometimes, once she made it clear that she really wanted to rather than because Ma had taught her that she should.  Mr. Graves always praised her meager efforts.  Chastity still couldn’t tell how he always knew which dishes were hers.

Her efforts had been painfully obvious in the beginning, but now Chastity couldn’t see any difference between what she produced and what Theseus did.   She was so careful to imitate Theseus: to chop vegetables as fine as any food processor could, to season them to perfection and plate them like a Michelin star chef.  How did Mr. Graves always know?

She’d figure it out someday.  Maybe she’d even figure him out.

Or maybe not.  For someone who claimed to be as shallow as mirror glass, Mr. Graves was a remarkably complicated man.

Chastity could hear Modesty well before she ever saw her sister.

“You’ve known Mr. Percy forever, haven’t you, Mr. Theseus?”

“Modesty!” hissed Credence.  Oh, good, someone was keeping an eye on her.  “You shouldn’t be so familiar.  It’s rude.”

“Why?” Modesty asked.  Chastity could just see the mulish expression on her little face.  “Mr. Percy and Mr. Theseus both said it was okay, so it’s not rude.”

So there, her tone added, even if Modesty had the good sense not to say so out loud.

“They’re your elders and your betters,” Credence told her.  “They deserve your respect.”

“Your elders, certainly, lad,” Theseus said kindly.  “But certainly not your betters.  And to answer your question, Little Miss, I’ve known Percival for about a decade now.  Not quite forever.”

Chastity slipped into the kitchen and took the chair next to Credence while Theseus’ back was turned.  She frowned at their sister.  “Behave,” she mouthed.

Modesty stuck out her tongue, revealing a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie.

“Modesty,” Theseus said warningly.  “Don’t make faces at your sister.”

Chastity wondered how he’d known that she was there.  If she’d learned anything from Ma, it was how to be quiet.

Modesty swallowed her cookie.  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

Theseus set a plate with two enormous chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk in front of Chastity.

“Thank you,” Chastity said.

“You’re welcome,” Theseus told her.

“A decade is ten years, right?” asked Modesty.

“Well done!” said Theseus.  “Yes, it is.”

“That’s a long time,” said Modesty.  “How did you and Mr. Percy meet?”

“Ah, well,” said Theseus.  “D’you remember how I used to be a soldier?”

Chastity and Credence both winced.  How could they forget?  “Why do you have a limp” had been the first of many embarrassing, inappropriate questions Modesty had asked since coming to Graves Manor.

Modesty nodded.  “You were Special Air Service,” she said carefully, glancing at Theseus to make sure she’d gotten it right.

“Right again,” said Theseus.

“Was Mr. Percy Special Air Service, too?” asked Modesty.

Chastity swallowed her mouthful of cookie and held off on taking another bite, waiting for Theseus’ answer.  Beside her, she didn’t think Credence was even breathing, which meant that he was curious too.

“Lord, no,” Theseus said cheerfully.  “Although we did meet somewhere classified doing things I can’t tell you about.”

“You were in Afghanistan,” Credence guessed.

The timing fit, Chastity thought.  Although what a billionaire philanthropist would be doing in Afghanistan was a mystery to her.

“Something like that,” Theseus allowed.  “The folks at the Home Office had heard tell of a warlord up in the mountains who was training up insurgents as unstoppable assassins.  It all sounded a bit dodgy to me, but my unit got sent in to, ah, make him stop.”

Modesty rolled her eyes.  “You can say kill him,” she said.  “I’m not a baby.”

“Of course,” said Theseus.  “Silly me.”

“How did you meet Mr. Graves in Afghanistan?” Credence asked, returning them to the original conversation.  “Or somewhere like it?”

“Clever boy,” Theseus murmured.

Credence took a drink of his milk to cover how pleased he was by the praise.

“Like I said, my unit got sent in to deal with the local warlord.”

“And Mr. Percy?” prompted Modesty.  “Did the warlord kidnap him or something?”

“Lord, no.  He was the warlord.”

Credence spat milk all over the table in shock.  “What?”

“Ew, that’s gross, Credence,” Modesty complained.

“Not that we knew that at the time,” Theseus continued cheerfully, tossing Credence a damp rag to wipe the table down with.  “Seeing as he was dressed up like a harem girl at the time.”

“Oh my God,” said Credence.  His face was alarmingly red.  He didn’t seem to have noticed the rag, so Chastity took it from him and wiped the table down for him, wondering if he’d caught a sudden fever.

Modesty folded her arms across her chest.  “You’re making that up.”

“I would never,” said Theseus.

“You just said you were supposed to kill the warlord, ‘cause he was teaching instructables –”

“Insurgents,” Chastity corrected.

“Insurgents,” Modesty repeated.  “And then you said Mr. Percy was the warlord!  Mr. Percy’s not a warlord!”

Chastity had to admit, the idea did seem a little far-fetched.

Theseus winked.  “The details are classified.”

“Theseus,” Mr. Graves said from the doorway.  “What scandalous lies have you been telling?”

“Little Miss here wanted to know how we met,” Theseus explained.

“Oh,” said Mr. Graves, dismissive.  “Grindr.”

Credence made a noise like he was dying and went redder than Mr. Graves’ favorite flashy car.  Chastity was starting to worry that he was choking on something and helpfully leaned over to pound on his back.  Credence waved her off, visibly trying to get himself back under control.  That just made Chastity worry even more.  She hadn’t seen Credence’s control slip in years.  Ma would’ve punished him for it.

“What’s grindr?” Modesty asked.

“Something for grown-up’s,” Credence said firmly, his tone adding so don’t ask about it.

Chastity kind of wanted to ask about it.  She was old enough to know what it was, and to wonder why Credence knew what it was without having to have it explained to him.

“It’s a dating app,” explained Theseus.  “Which didn’t exist ten years ago, by the way.”

“Didn’t it?”

“No.”

Mr. Graves shrugged philosophically.  “Oh.  I guess we met some other way, then.  May I have a cookie?”

[hjsnina]

Batman!AU- Mystic Messenger Characters

I don’t know why I did this and it might be inaccurate to a point but I tried.

Yoosung- All of the innocent citizens

Jaehee- Alfred, very loyal to Bruce/Jumin

Zen- The Penguin, although enemies with Batman/Jumin, he just coexists because he rules the criminal underworld.

Jumin- Batman/Bruce Wayne- Very Rich, can be dark at times.

Saeyoung- Jim Gordon, clever, intelligent, very good

Saeran- The Riddler, very clever high intellect,

V- Harley Quinn, got pulled into it by love.

Rika- The Joker, leader of organizations, very evil.

MC- Barbara Kean-Gordon, marries Jim, gets a divorce. Goes crazy and has affiliations with everyone in the underworld.

[violettless]

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 11

Watch this space - TDWK masterlist coming soon!

okay, so Calum doesn’t get shirtless or anything in this chapter - he doesn’t even show up so i figured i’d at least give you guys the benefit of this picture. anyway this is the penultimate chapter of The Devil Wears Kevlar! Next week is gonna be super action packed so mark your calendars. After that... we’ll just have to see. other news includes trigger warnings: Aspen briefly experiences something akin to a PTSD panic attack, and there are mentions of death of a loved one but honestly they’re not as intense as the other chapters I just thought I’d let you know ANYWAY HAVE FUN I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEK

“Mac! Look alive!”

Aspen jerks her head up. Ashton was looking at her across the lab, eyebrows raised. Right. She had been doing - um, she had been working on…

“I’d really like that graph by the end of the day.” Ashton prompts gently.

Right! Graph. Jesus, was that all? It really shouldn’t have taken her this long to begin with. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just having trouble with the statistics. There’s something weird about the indications of significance. I’ll fix it and then it’s all yours.” She says quickly, focusing on the graph in front of her and not just middle distance.

Ashton smiles bittersweetly at her. She can see it out of the corner of her eye. She probably wasn’t supposed to notice that. The thought is surprisingly funny; it’s just one more thing she’s not supposed to see. “Thanks, Mac.” He says before he turns back to his own work.

“Mac” is new. He never called her that before her little, uh, incident. He wouldn’t have let her work on the error bars on her own before, either. He would have come over and fixed them himself and printed it, while he was at it. Unmean but brisk, with no room for weakness.

Was that what she was these days? The team’s weakness?

Aspen taps a little harder on the keyboard. It helps a little.

It’s been a week. A whole week since her untimely dismissal from the great office of Mr. Calum Hood. A little more than that since her cheek had gotten filleted. She was going to get the stitches taken out that evening after work. It was pissing her off that the rest of her wasn’t healing as quickly.

Oh. She blinks at the screen. Turns out the statistics were an easy fix. She hits print and takes the tiny commute to the printer before handing it to Ashton. He smiles at her for it, but his eyes catch on her scar again. Only for a second, but she notices. It happens a lot now, but she still notes it, every time. She can’t help it.  

Personally, she kinda thinks the cut looks rakish. She’s started answering to inquiries about it with “you should see the other guy” and her very best mischievous smile, and people usually act a little more relaxed after that, which is nice. At night when she’s brushing her teeth, though, she finds herself looking at it and wondering if she’s always going to be introducing people to her scar.

Still, it could be worse. Falcone’s never gonna call her his pretty little girl ever again.

He’s in trouble. That’s another thing that’s changed over that week. Falcone’s been indicted for a bunch of charges related to the Sionis and Trident murders, and he’s pleading not guilty but they’ll just see how it all shakes out in court. Her only contact with Calum is emails from his lawyers updating her on what the prosecution needs from her in anticipation of the trial. She can’t believe she’s going to be so stupid as to testify against a mobster, but hey, she has a feeling the night guard is going to be keeping an eye on her for the next few weeks.

It’s funny; she feels paranoid, but it’s not paranoia if it’s true, right? After a few days of anxiously taking taxis everywhere, worrying that the cabby is on Falcone’s payroll, she allows herself the much cheaper danger of walking home. She’s heard a lot more suspicious noises on rooftops lately. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but it’s nice to pretend Calum is looking down at her from above and getting pissed that she’s on her own like that. Maybe if she starts waltzing into crack dens he’ll talk to her again. Maybe she’ll join a Russian roulette team.

Aspen toys with the thought of taking up cliff diving as she settles back down at her desk. The BAMF project is going swimmingly - they decided to use Tencel for the bandages and now she was helping to determine a good formula for the “healing fluid”. She loved doing R&D like this. It was only a mixture of salts and synthetic proteins, but she could make it sound like miracle juice. If she hadn’t been quite so observant that night, she would have been thrilled to be back down in the lab, doing what she loved.

But here she was.

It’s 4:30, and although it’s only a Monday she can still read the atmosphere in the lab. She’s not likely to be needed any more tonight. Plus, she’s gonna run out of mutilation-based sympathy at some point, she might as well use it while she can. “Hey, Ash, is it cool if I head out?” She says, rolling her chair over towards his desk. “I want to get my stitches out and there might be less of a wait if I go now. You know, so I miss the rush of all the people who also get off at 5 and need to get their stitches taken out.”

Ashton chuckles, putting the graph aside for a second. “Will you come in early tomorrow to score the mice?” He says, after a long moment.

Good. That’s good. She’s edging away from pity. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want. I’ll bring you something from the gift shop.” Aspen teases as she walks her chair back to her desk to grab her things.

It will be nice to come in early, anyways. She finds that she misses the half-hour of quiet she used to get before the day began. Being the first in the lab and checking up on the mice, changing their bandages and marking how they’ve healed, sounds really nice right about now. She’s always felt a bit of resonance with those little animals, anyways. She, too, is soft and skittish and just wanting to sleep in a pile of wood shavings.

As she enters the elevator, she lets herself think for the first time that maybe it’s good that Calum didn’t let her join him. It’s a thought that’s been hovering around the edges of her mind for weeks, but only now is it becoming concrete. She thinks she’s tough, sure, but she’s let herself be treated so gently the last few days and she’s starting to think she might miss it. Maybe she’s more delicate than she ever imagined. I mean, if she identifies with a mouse, how’s she gonna stand up to fucking Catwoman? Maybe Calum didn’t try to transfer her out of spite, or a pigheaded desire to protect her. Maybe he just saw something in her, some hairline fractures that would widen into faults under any pressure. Maybe he heard her tell Liam what time he got into the office.

Not that it mattered. She’d never see him again.

She had tried. The day she had been, uh, let go, she had tried to come back at the end of the day. Her excuse was that she wanted to say goodbye to Janet, but she was really hoping to talk to Calum about some of the evidence she had collected and just… make her case properly, she didn’t know. But when she had said hello to Jan, let herself be hugged and fussed over, once that was all out of the way, well… “He doesn’t want you up here.” Janet had told her, glancing at Mr. Hood’s office door. It was closed. Aspen didn’t know if he was in there, if he was listening. “He told me to tell you he was out if you ever came up. I’m really sorry, Aspen, but you know how he gets.”

It had been another blow, then, the kind that left you mercifully numb for a while before it started to hurt. “I understand.” She had managed, finally. “You’re just doing your job. Oh, my god, you’re gonna have so much work now.” And that had been that.

Now she wondered if it had been a test. If she was supposed to march in there and demand he at least let her talk to him, goddamn it, so she didn’t go crazy sitting on all this. But if it was a test, she had failed, and it was no one’s fault but her own.

It was nice outside, but windy, and on her walk to the hospital the breeze picked up her hair and whipped it around her face. She had started wearing it down more, at least while her cut still looked raw and meaty when it wasn’t bandaged up, but it was just getting annoying now. She wasn’t sure why she was even bothering to hide the cut. It wasn’t even that gross now, anyways, and if she could live with it so could that weird guy on the train who had stared at her so long he almost missed his stop.

The waiting room in Gotham General was busy, which shouldn’t have surprised Aspen. Shit went down in this city every single day. Maybe Calum had popped out on his lunch break to break a few arms. The thought of him in that Armani suit busting kneecaps was funny, making her bite her lip as she checked in.

He did that a lot, you know, she’d read an analysis of injuries attributed to the Bat. She was just thankful she had fallen stupid head over heels for a vigilante that practiced non-lethally. It made sense; he had an incredible position of power, and if he used that power to kill people who had been struggling all their lives - like, if he had killed the Joker she would have been cool with it, but the thugs, the kids like Liam… She wouldn’t have been able to stand for that.

She pulled a scientific journal out of her bag and settled in to wait. She wanted something good to bring up at the next lab meeting, put this period of weakness behind her. She had a feeling the efficiency of the collagen synthesis could be improved. They were currently using cultures of mouse fibroblasts to produce it, since using yeast hadn’t worked out, but she had seen some recent research on using insect stomach lining to produce another factor that hadn’t been viable in yeast models, and maybe if they -

Aspen heard a bang, far off, and jumped in her seat. So did the man next to her. Her heart started thumping, and she reminded herself that this wasn’t another incident. She wasn’t in any danger. She could hear yelling, back in the ambulance bays, but this was a hospital. Some people were scary when they were sick. There were people here trained to keep them and her safe. She should know, her grandpa had been dangerous in his last few days in the hospital, he had been a big football player (the shouts were getting louder) and in his last few days, in his last few days he had been so angry and he had to be restrained, she understood it could happen to anyone -

The bay doors were there one moment, and then she saw them bend. Aspen’s rising panic catches in her throat. It was happening again. She stands up, quickly, scrabbling in her jacket pockets for that knife. She had stopped carrying it a few days ago, feeling silly, but now, now - fuck, it really wasn’t there, why hadn’t she kept it - someone huge and hulking ran through the waiting room, yelling, screaming something, and burst through the sliding doors like the glass was just rain. It was over in a second. Aspen stands there, flooded with adrenaline, as a few orderlies and security guards chase after the woman. There are fat drops of blood among the broken glass.

The nurses are saying something to calm the room down. Aspen can’t hear it. Fuck, she had thought - she had really thought, for a second, that shouting, that something was for her. She sits back down. Her journal is all crumpled now.

Fuck.

But she stays. Some people leave, but she stays. She needs to get her stitches out, and anyways there’s nowhere safer when a big beefy thug is on the loose than the place said thug was trying to escape. Right?

Her name gets called soon enough, and she gets to wait a little longer in a little emergency room cubicle until a doctor can come and slip the stitches out of her face. The doctor’s a little shaken, too. She doesn’t make much small talk as she’s cleaning up Aspen’s face with an alcohol wipe. Aspen’s still sweaty and jittery. “I know there’s like doctor-patient confidentiality, but can I ask… is that lady gonna be okay? She just ran through that door like -”

“I’m sure she didn’t feel it.” The doctor says, setting the wipe aside. She’s still focused on Aspen’s face, she won’t look her in the eye for more than a coincidental fraction of a second. “You never saw someone on Venom before?”

“Venom?”

The doctor smiles. Her hands are cold. “You’re new to Gotham, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna have to start learning a little faster.” Aspen says, glancing at the blurry red line that was her scar in her own vision.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m very new.”

“I saw the report from when you got the stitches in. You’re very brave.”

“Thank you.” Aspen says, quickly. She doesn’t want to talk about that, just get the stitches out. “But, uh, what exactly is Venom?”

“‘S a drug. Only really around in Gotham. We’re trying to figure out an effective treatment for - depending on the dose, it can make you feel really strong and euphoric, and if you take enough it just - it has this unbelievable effect on the muscles. It’s incredible.” Aspen feels scissors snip right by her face, cold where they brush her cheek. “And we have no idea how to deal with it. Most people we just hold and put on a saline until they detox, but the ones who have OD’d - it’s hard to restrain them.” Aspen feels the threads loosening under her cheek. “This might hurt a little.”

Aspen white-knuckles the edge of the hospital bed she’s sitting on and holds her breath as the suture thread slips right out from under the skin on her cheek.

“Perfect. No bleeding, even. You took good care of it.” The doctor says, putting the suture aside. Aspen looks at it on the tray. It has a few bits of her face stuck to it, pieces of healing scabs. It looks so small.

As she says thank you and prepares herself to go, the doctor stops her with a look as she’s washing her hands. “The report said you saw the Batman?”

Aspen feels a twinge of pain, and curls a hand into a fist to try and hide it. “Yeah, he, uh, basically saved my life.”

The doctor turns off the tap. Her eyes are shining. Aspen wonders how young she is. “What’s he like?”

“Oh, uh… brisk, I guess.” Aspen blinks. “He didn’t really give me a chance to get my bearings, y’know, he just hauled me up and pulled me out the window. It was all really fast.” It’s different, telling this story to a stranger. She wants to make herself sound braver in it. Make Calum sound kinder. Well, he saved her life, that was kind. Easier, she guesses.

The doc is still looking at her expectantly. Aspen feels a little glow of pride, attaching herself to the Bat like this. She’s never really thought about him this way. “Um… He’s really caring, when you get down to it. When he took me to the squad car the cops had their guns drawn at first because, you know, he’s like a vigilante and all, but it really freaked me out. He got between me and them and made them put their guns down before he let me get in the car. He didn’t have to do that. I know the vigilante thing is kind of controversial, but I think he really is a good guy, you know?” She shrugs, wondering if her little smile gives anything away. That she knows him. That she’s fallen for him before.

“Wow.” Says the doctor. “Yeah, wow. That’s incredible. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Yeah, well, me too.” Aspen’s smile is easier, now. It feels different, without her cheek stitched up.

The doctor laughs. Aspen feels charming again, even with the scar. “Yeah, well, the next time you see him, tell him to look into that Venom stuff, alright? We could really use the - what do they call him, the - the world’s greatest detective on this case.”

“I haven’t heard that one before.” Aspen says, taking a step into the hallway.

“Well, it’s what they call him. Have a good night, alright?”

“You too!” Aspen gives a little wave to the doctor, and finds her way back to the emergency room exit. Someone has already swept up most of the glass.

It sticks in her mind as she begins walking to the subway. Someone should tell him. Bring his attention to this. A new street drug without a treatment was a bad thing no matter what, but if it made you strong enough to bend steel - Batman should turn some of his thousands of dollars in funding to that.

World’s greatest fucking detective. He couldn’t detect his way out of a paper bag.

That was mean. Aspen just thought that at him because she was bad. Probably if it was a big paper bag he could manage.

Anyway, it didn’t matter if she should tell him about it or not. Calum Hood had decided never to see her again, and it wasn’t like Batman had an open door policy.

Wait.

The Batman was supposed to be a ghost; you never knew where he was going to be. Except she knew, and the GCPD knew, that at the next major disaster he would be there. And he wasn’t going to ignore her if she showed up there, all cute and vulnerable without a bulletproof vest. He’d see she was serious. He’d see she could take the heat. And he’d see there was even a convenient project for her to work on to keep her cover.

Was she really going to do this?

Aspen took a deep breath. She didn’t have to decide now. If something came up, she’d think about taking that risk.

It was the kind of thing you couldn’t take back.

For the next few nights, Aspen compromised. She listened to the news while she was doing dry lab prep, and turned on all the notifications on her “Gotham News & Alerts” app, but she didn’t, like, start going out and trying to buy Venom right from the source. It gave her time to think. Really, it was bold of her to think he didn’t already have a crack team of biologists - just that he preferred the processing of the GCPD lab so they had it all recorded, maybe. He had to have a real reason for this, other than just... doing this to hurt her. 

She was working on her miracle juice when it happened, with the news on and some 80s pop playing overtop to help her focus. There had been a break-in at an upscale cocktail party, which was good, and a riot at the Arkham Asylum - nothing huge, that happened all the time. Batman probably didn’t get called for those. When the news came through, she almost missed it under her music.

“The small riot at Arkham Asylum-” Ha, Aspen thought, small riot. “-has escalated after Pamela Ivey, a.k.a. Poison Ivy, began to demolish the heritage building. Known for her control over plant life, Ivey has used her abilities to destroy the foundation of the building. No inmates are reported missing, but GCPD are suggesting that all citizens in the area begin evacuation to the city centre. We’ll bring you updates as they come, but for now, we turn to journalist and Gotham history expert -”

Aspen bit her lip and tried not to freak out. Just because it was the first disaster to come along since her painful rejection, that didn’t mean it was time to make her move. What was she going to do during a prison break, anyways? She didn’t know anything about working with psychiatric patients, or overseeing evacuations, or -

“Update now from Arkham Asylum, police efforts to control the plant growth are failing. Experts are now trying to evacuate the Asylum in preparation for controlled burn, but analysts are concerned that moving large groups of inmates might end up just like every other -”

Plants. Jesus Christ, she knew biology. She couldn’t believe it didn’t hit her sooner. Aspen squints at the news report and tries to do some on-the-spot identification. Her pulse was racing. Taxonomy had her pulse racing. She couldn’t believe it. Now she got why Calum did this.

She needs to focus. It looked like… like… It looked like jute. Okay, there was that. She knew the plant. She knew the plant! Fuck, okay, she couldn’t get ahead of herself. Focus. She had read something about jute recently, something as to why it wasn’t bigger as a source of natural fiber… part of it was the water required, part of it was… cold sensitivity. The plants didn’t respond well to cold! That was how they were gonna beat this without burning down a heritage building. Batman had to have something that could do that, right?

Oh my god. She actually had to do this.

Aspen takes a deep breath. She had thought that she would have a choice, when the time came. That she’d be able to weigh her options objectively, and maybe sit this one out if it came to that. But she couldn’t. Her mind was already racing. She’d stick a textbook and a cookie sheet in her backpack, improvise some armor. She should wear black. If they were evacuating inmates, she should plan for the worst, this was Gotham after all. She packed her pocket knife.

As Aspen hustled to the door, she paused with her hand on the knob. She should say goodbye to her roommates. In case -

No. She couldn’t. It might destroy whatever foolhardy courage had gotten her this far.

She would just have to be careful not to die.