Trigger warning: Mentions of sexual coercion, mentions of abuse, cussing
2,601 words
Masterlist
Rian
Rian’s 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 Jason’s 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 didn’t seem likely one of the attractive heirs to Bruce Wayne’s 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 didn’t recognize in her phone was a threat, and she couldn’t 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.
“Hi babe.” She greeted him warmly as he approached the table, giving her a quick kiss on her head. “How was work?”
“Too long.” He sighed, leaning over her shoulder to see what she was writing. “But it’s all worth it coming home to you.”
Rian smiled, even though Riley’s words leave a strange knot in her stomach. They sounded hollow; forced. Rehearsed.
“I made some chili, it’s in the crockpot on the stove. Ready and waiting.” Rian closed her laptop, stepping away from the table to grab him a bowl.
“What’s this?” 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 Jason’s phone number scribbled on the top. “It almost looks like,” He paused, the smile falling from his face. “A phone number.” He looked up at Rian, face neutral as he gauged her reaction.
“Oh, that?” She forced herself to calm down, choosing instead to focus on the chili. “It must be Chelsea’s number. From my Lit class.” It wasn’t like Riley knew Rian’s classmates, or that she and Chelsea weren’t actually friends. Rian never talked to him about her classes. “We’re working on a project together, and she wanted me to text her if I can’t make our meeting tomorrow after class.”
“You’re going to be out late tomorrow?” Riley asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
If Rian could maintain her story through these next few minutes, she would be okay.
“Not too late. Class ends at five and we just need an hour or two to work on a presentation. I’ll be home before you need to leave to make dinner.” She brought Riley his chili, handing the steaming bowl to him as innocently as she could. “Is that okay?”
“I guess. I wish you would have asked sooner.” He sat at her now vacant seat, eyes falling to the notebook once again. “So I guess you don’t need this number anymore.” It wasn’t a question, but he still looked up at her, waiting for an answer.
“I might need it just in case…” She started, but after seeing his reaction quickly changed her answer. “But no, I don’t think I need it at this point.”
“Good.” 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.
“I have an early day tomorrow, so I’ll see you in the morning?” 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.
“Or you could put on that little lingerie set I bought you from Valentine’s Day last year and meet me in the bedroom in fifteen minutes.” He suggested, a half smile crossing his face as he looked up at Rian. “I had a long day and need to unwind a little. You want to help me unwind a little, don’t you baby?”
“Of course.” 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 didn’t have to endure.
Jason
It was an overcast Monday afternoon as Jason made his way across campus to the Literature building. He didn’t 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 couldn’t help but think he was too forceful or inserted himself where he didn’t belong. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
He was utterly entranced by Rian, especially after learning about her article on vigilantes. She didn’t 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 wasn’t 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.
“Do anything fun?” She asked shyly, sitting in the seat to his right. “I texted you Saturday night, but I’m not sure you got it.”
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 wasn’t from Rian. His heart sank when he realized she wasn’t going to message him, and he had to handle all the probing questions from his older brother. And then his younger brothers, who heard Dick’s teasing over their communication system. It was a long night of dodging questions on Jason’s part.
“I was in Bludhaven for a family thing.” Jason answered quickly, giving Rachel a friendly smile. “Next time though, I’ll definitely come out next time.”
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 wouldn’t 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 wasn’t 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 couldn’t tell, and wasn’t sure how to approach the situation. After she neglected to message him, he wasn’t 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 didn’t 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 wasn’t.
Rian managed to avoid his gaze the entire class, much to Jason’s dismay. He didn’t want to force her to look at him, but he needed some kind of closure. If she wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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.
“Alfred.” Jason nodded to the butler as he entered the grandiose estate, closing the large main door behind him.
“Always a pleasure, Master Todd.” Alfred stated, ushering Jason into the dining room. “I’m afraid they started without you, although I can assure you I protested on your behalf.”
“Always a real one, Alfred.” Jason chuckled.
He took the empty seat between Dick and Bruce, although he would have preferred to sit across from Tim and not Damien.
“Finally found your way here Todd?” The youngest Wayne questioned, a fork full of broccoli suspended between his plate and dainty mouth.
“Fuck off, demon spawn.” Jason muttered, ignoring the pointed look from Dick.
“One minute in and it’s already started.” 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.
“Jay-bird, we talked about manners.” Dick teased, passing his brother the bowl of Alfred’s homemade mashed potatoes. He knew they were Jason’s favorite, and probably hoarded them by his corner of the table to prevent the others from consuming them all.
“You want some too, Dickhead?” 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.
“So, Jason. How’re classes going?” He asked, cutting his slab of steak into bite-sized pieces.
“Fine.” Jason answered between bites of potato. “Nothing to write home about.”
“Did you get any messages from you-know-who?” Tim joined in, cutting right to the point. “Any developments?” He pushed his glasses further up his nose as he ate, eagerly awaiting Jason’s response.
“Easy, Tim-bo. You don’t want to lose your glasses in that soup.” Jason motioned to the thick gathering of gravy on Tim’s plate.
“Come on, Jay-bird. We’re just curious.” Dick commented, nudging Jason lightly with his arm. “You seemed so upset-”
“I wasn’t fucking upset, Dickhead.” Jason cut in, narrowing his eyes at Dick.
“Not that I care, but you were.” Damien muttered from across the table. “You’re terrible at masking your emotions, Todd.”
“Sorry we can’t all be as monotonous and dead-eyed as you.” Jason mocked his youngest brother, all friendliness leaving his demeanor. He didn’t come to family dinner to be chastised, he came to talk about the case.
“Sorry your latest harlot wouldn’t answer you.” Damien muttered again, his eyes snapping to Jason when he heard his fork drop.
“I bested you last time we fought, demon spawn. Don’t make me kick your ass again.” 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.
“Alright, alright. Enough.” Bruce shook his head, finally intervening. “Sit down, Jason. You too Damien. This isn’t why we invited Jason and Dick here.”
The two standing boys narrowed their eyes at each other, but listened to Bruce. He was right; this wasn’t 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 wasn’t anything substantial, but they were better than nothing.
“We think some of the dock workers are in on this.” 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. “The cameras don’t collect audio, but they’re talking about something here, and they meet like this almost every night. Same time. Same men.”
Jason and Dick are the only two who haven’t studied the footage, so they lean in closer than Bruce and Damien.
“You found a pattern, Tim-bo. Nice.” Jason clapped his younger brother on the back, nodding his head in approval. “We can work with this.”
“Do we have any names? Anything that can help us track these guys?” Dick asked, his eyes flickering around the screen. “You’re sure it’s definitely the same guys?”
“I hacked into their payroll, and it’s always the same guys on the time sheets. They’re leaving a trail.” Tim confirmed, ruffling through a pile of papers on his desk. “Aha, here it is!” He holds up a packet, handing it to Dick. “These are the schedules from the last few months. It’s always the same four men; Salazar, Osbourne, Craig, and Wilson.”
Jason scans the sheet over Dick’s shoulder, confirming Tim’s statement.
“I’ve already run background checks on them, and guess what Jason.” Tim turns to Jason, a sly smirk forming across his face. “One of them lives in your building.”
“No way.” Jason squints at the names again. “None of those look familiar, my building’s pretty big. Which one is it?”
STRANGERS, CHAPTER ONE. read it here. updates weekly/bi-weekly.
As he strummed the final chords, ending the song early, Ned watched the stranger dump a handful of notes into his case. A folded stack of red, blue, and orange hit the bottom of his case with an audible noise, and Ned clenched his jaw to stop it from dropping onto the pavement. The man quietly closed his wallet and slid it into his pocket as Ned met his eyes.
They were bright. So fucking bright. Brighter than the morning and twice as pale.
Ned swallowed. He tried to smile, but his face just twitched instead. “I’m not that good.”
“I found it quite beautiful.” The stranger had a nice voice. Spoke nicely, if not a little strained. Like he was holding something back. Tears, maybe, but Ned really wasn’t that good. Then he spoke again, tilting his head as he asked the question, “What’s your name?”
Ned almost gave him a fake one. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before. “Ned.”
London, 1996. Edward Little has been given a second chance, and second chances are horrible things.
There was a rustling noise and a strangled shout before the flat rattled with the force of something—someone—collapsing to the ground. A second later there was a grunt, an aborted gasp for air, then a horrible, suffocated cry—like someone gargling boiling water. Then silence. The radio went mute. Ned didn’t know whether it was broken in the struggle or simply shut off. All he knew was that there was no more music, no more noise, no drowning cries. There was nothing. Nothing at all. No creaking floorboards. No harsh whispers.
Then there was something.
A cleared throat. A familiar voice.
“Ned?”
Thom.
Hii are we allowed to ask questions about your Strangers fic ?? Bc you've been posting a lot about Dundy being a model and I love this concept so much, I wish to know more
What kind of model is he ? Was he ever famous and beloved, or has his career always been rough ? Model life can get pretty bad, I wonder what kind of hardships he's had (and hope it's the worse ones <3)
Feel free to not answer if you don't want to spoil anything but I needed to tell you how insane you tagging one (1) emoji on a post makes me everytime lmao
@strogoff-era
yeah of course!! i'm sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a while, but I wanted to sit down and give it a proper response :)
For reference, Strangers takes place in 1996, and Dundy was born in 1960. He started modeling when he was 17 after dancing ballet for nearly his entire life. All did not go well 👍 without giving away too much, he fell victim to the predatory nature of the industry. When he was 19, he got a new manager, James Clark Ross, and JCR turned him into a fucking star. In 1980, he had his best runway gig to date. Everyone loved Le Vesconte. But he couldn't escape the stress of the industry. Between all the drug use and the demanding nature of his lifestyle, he was losing his sense of time and self as his health physically deteriorated. His hair started going gray when he was 18, and by 20 he was dyeing his hair at least once a week to maintain his appearance.
Then, a few weeks after he turned 21 in 1981, he got into an accident. Broke his leg. Spent two weeks in the hospital before he started physical therapy to try and get back on his feet again. Walk the runway again. Without giving away any big spoilers -- he never got back on the runway. Henry Le Vesconte fell off the face of the earth for five years, and left a noticeable void in London's fashion scene. When he was 26, he re-emerged at the senior editor of Erebus Magazine, a fashion publication based out of London. A few years later, he got promoted to editor-in-chief, and continued to climb the ladder until he became the creative director in the 90s. His entire motive was to put himself in a position where no one would have power over him, and he succeeded. A year later, he met Graham Gore.
And that's his super brief backstory! It literally only gets worse from there. His playlist is here if you wanna give it a listen :3
TRIGGERS: Cursing, some domestic abuse, mention of wanting to die, attempted mugging/assault, mentions of drugs
Author’s Note: Sorry it took so long to post this one, I’ll do better I swear!
3,920 words
Masterlist
Jason
It was 5 o’clock 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 didn’t 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 didn’t particularly like gossip, Jason was nosy and didn’t see the harm in joining in on such a *normal* college activity.
“I can’t believe Bryant got away with that!” Chelsea, one of Rachel’s 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. “You 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 didn’t even see him around campus until recently, and I don’t even know if he was at graduation-“
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 didn’t 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.
“That’s the girl from our class, right?” He asked Rachel quietly, motioning to the girl in question with his head. “The one who sits next to me?”
“I think so.” Rachel followed his nod, her eyes landing on the girl’s back. “I don’t know her very well.”
“No one does.” Sam cut in, noticing the pair eyeing the girl writing like a madman in her notebook. “She’s hot, but never hangs with anyone.”
“I’ve had a couple classes with her.” Chelsea whispered, her eyes never leaving the new topic of conversation. “Her name’s Rian, she’s weird. Quiet, doesn’t really socialize with any of us. Thinks she’s above it all, you know, all this college stuff. I never see her at, like, parties or bars or anything, I don’t even think she lives on campus.”
“Snooty.” Rachel added, her eyes trailing along Jason’s face. Her mouth twitches when she sees the interest he’s taken in Rian.
His eyes were drawn to her, out of pity or curiosity he isn’t sure. She sits next to him in class, (well, her bag does), and he still hasn’t 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 she’s called on. She never volunteers information. She’s guarded, something Jason sympathizes with.
“Jason?” Chelsea snapped her fingers in his face to gain his attention. “Are you with me?”
“Sorry, yeah.” He muttered, blue eyes reluctantly leaving Rian. “I just- never mind.”
As if on cue, Jason’s phone vibrated on the table next to his hand. He glanced at it quickly; a message from Dick.
“Shit.” He mumbled, opening the lengthy message. Dick was never one to be brief. “I have to go,” 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. “Thanks for inviting me, this was fun.” He flashed a quick smile at the group, his eyes landing on a disappointed Rachel. “I’ll see you on Friday?”
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 hadn’t officially moved in together, he basically lived with her. Rian didn’t 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 “appropriateness” of Rian’s outfits, asking her to make him dinner before work because he was too tired; and eventually turned into more problematic actions; grabbing Rian’s 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 couldn’t 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 didn’t 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 didn’t have any money saved up, and Riley would sooner chain her to their bed than let her get another part-time job somewhere.
Rian’s 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 Chelsea’s 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 didn’t care, she wished she didn’t let it gnaw at her insides anytime she saw Chelsea, but it did. Rian couldn’t 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 o’clock; 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 o’clock, 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 Rian’s 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 Riley’s 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 Rian’s 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.
“You’re home late, babe.” 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.
“I got caught in the rain.” Rian muttered feebly, dropping her wet bag at her side. “And my phone died so I couldn’t call an Uber.”
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.
“What do you want to eat?” She asked quietly, opening the refrigerator. “We have…” 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. “I can make pasta if you want? Before you have to leave?” 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 o’clock, 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.
“We’re out of sauce.” He stated coldly, rising slowly from his seat on the couch. “How am I supposed to eat pasta without any sauce?”
Rian froze. She knew what was going to happen before it did. This happened hundreds of times before. It was her fault she didn’t go shopping, and Riley wasn’t 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.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think-“
“You never do, do you?” He scolded, walking toward her as she cowered away from him. “You 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 it’s a waste of time,” He sneered the last part and Rian swallowed hard. “And yet you can’t make me a good dinner. I never fucking eat well because you never care to make me dinner. It’s fucking unbelievable.”
Rian stays quiet, squeezing her eyes closed as Riley approaches. It’s futile to try to reason with him.
“You have to be the most selfish bitch I’ve ever met.” He continued as he brushed passed her, grabbing his jacket as he unlocked the apartment door. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, you better have that pasta ready.”
He slammed the door loudly, and Rian released the breath she didn’t 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 Riley’s 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.
“Pasta sauce at this hour?” She asked, offering Rian a kind smile.
“It’s an emergency.” Rian smiled back at her as she was handed her change.
“Must be.” Mrs. Chen muttered before turning to the only other shopper in the store. “Need help? We’re closing soon.”
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.
“Easy there, shortcake.” 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. “Where are you off to at such a late hour?”
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 wasn’t an option. Rian may have been broken down by Riley, but she was still a fighter, and this wasn’t how she planned on dying.
The thug removed his hand from Rian’s 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 Rian’s 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 man’s 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 didn’t 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.
Rian’s 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 wasn’t over.
Jason
“This’ll teach you to harass people, you old fuck.” Jason landed another punch to the degenerate as he struggled in Jason’s 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 didn’t 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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t 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 wouldn’t 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 Jason’s 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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
Author’s 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; I’m trying to juggle online classes and a full-time job and this is just for fun/anyone interested in reading this! I’m 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 wasn’t that he didn’t 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 someone’s 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 couldn’t risk it.
Protecting the city he grew up in was a full-time job. It didn’t allow for study groups, intimate friendships, or relationships. He needed to be ready at a moment’s 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 someone’s 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 didn’t 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 August’s 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 Jason’s 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 didn’t 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. Cortez’s booming voice and the sound of pens scribbling against paper or fingers frantically typing away on laptop keys.
“I think that’s enough for today.” 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. “A bit of a cliffhanger we have, but always leave them wanting more.” A few students chuckled, Jason included. “Remember, we won’t be meeting on Wednesday, I have a conference in Metropolis. But I hope you’ll 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 I’m just an e-mail away. See you all Friday.” He smiled widely as the students began gathering their belongings, already conversing about their plans for Wednesday.
“Jason, right?” The girl to Jason’s 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.
“Rachel, right?” 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.
“That’s me.” She laughed lightly, gazing at him through her brown eyelashes. “A 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?” She tried to mask the hopefulness in her voice, but Jason could sense she was eager for him to accept her invitation.
“Yeah, that would be cool.” Jason nodded slowly, mulling over the suggestion. “I can’t stay too late.” He warned, but couldn’t help the smile fighting against his lips at the way Rachel’s eyes lit up.
“No problem, you can leave whenever you need to.” She ripped a piece of paper from her notebook, quickly scribbling her number on the paper. “Here’s my number. We’ll 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 I’ll let you know for sure.”
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 didn’t 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 wasn’t 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.
“Jay-bird, please tell me you’re still coming tonight.” Dick hopped into the apartment, already in his Nightwing outfit; a black spandex suit with a blue bird on his chest. “Damien’s 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.”
“Relax, I just had to finish something.” Jason shrugged off Dick’s complaining, taking long strides to his bedroom to fish the Red Hood uniform from his closet. “I need to change real quick. Can you look for my helmet? I think I left it in the kitchen somewhere.”
“The kitchen?” Dick raised an eyebrow and sighed before strutting to the kitchen to search for his brother’s mask. “What if someone sees it?”
“The only people I have over are you and Tim, Dickhead. Nothing to worry about.” Jason called from the bedroom, quickly pulling on his black cargo pants and lacing up his black combat boots.
“I don’t see it out here.”
“Fuck, well it isn’t in here and I had it last night when I came home.”
Dick opened the refrigerator in search of a soda, and was met with Jason’s Red Hood helmet sitting on the bottom shelf. He smirked, clutching the helmet in his gloved hand before turning in the direction of Jason’s room.
“Found it! Did you leave it in the refrigerator?”
“Did I?” Jason questioned, squinting his eyes as he recalled the events from last night. “I did need an ice pack, maybe I put it there for a second.” He emerged from his bedroom fully dressed and ready to kick some ass. “Whatever.”
Jason took the helmet from Dick, ignoring the smirk etched onto the blonde’s face.
“Don’t fucking start with me.” Jason warned, eyes narrowing as he slipped the helmet on.
Dick opened his mouth, as though he were about to say something, but stopped.
“Do you hear that?” He asked, throwing Jason off guard.
“What?”
“Do you hear that?” Dick repeated. Jason rolled his eyes.
“Do I hear what, Dickhead?”
“Yelling. Crying. Fighting?” Dick listened intently on the two voices rising from the apartment beneath Jason’s.
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 wasn’t his business, and no one else seemed to care. It was easier to tune out the noise.
“It’s just the people downstairs. 11F. They’re always loud.” Jason shrugged, heading toward the window as he slipped the helmet over his head. “Coming, Dickwing?”
“Hey!” Dick scowled, hesitantly following Jason out the window. “Do you think they’re okay?”
“I’m sure they’re fine.” Jason assured him half-heartedly as they began jumping across the roofs of Gotham. “Besides, we don’t make house calls, right? Batman would go ballistic if he found out we broke into someone’s apartment to give them fucking relationship counseling.”
“I don’t know, Red.” Dick looked back in the direction of Jason’s apartment building. “I thought I heard crying…”
Jason didn’t answer. He didn’t want to think about it. Meddling with his neighbors as the Red Hood wasn’t an option, and meddling with his neighbors as Jason would be even worse. It wasn’t his business to question their relationship, and he wasn’t 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.
