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“You know you’ll be working with him, right? You can’t just hide from the rest of them forever, honey. I’m sorry.”
Selina’s voice was soft and soothing as she rubbed a hand along your cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb. She was right, as usual—even as much as you despised the thought of working with the Bats, they were an inevitable path you needed to cross if you wanted anything to do with vigilante life in Gotham.
You leaned into her touch, grumbling softly. “Can’t I just do somethin’ else? I don’t need to work with him. I’m just as good on my own, Mama.”
Selina hummed and patted your head, sliding your goggles down over your eyes.
“I know you are, kit. I don’t know why you hate him so much. You’ve never even met him yet.”
“I don’t need to meet him,” you mumbled. “He’s a boy. They’re all dogs.”
Selina smiled softly, adjusting the collar of your hoodie before sliding her own goggles down.
“That’s mostly true. Who knows, though. Maybe he’ll be worth talking to?”
“We’ll see,” you muttered.
“I guess so. Your comms are on?”
You slid a hand to the earpiece in your right ear, tapping and holding the surface until you heard a tiny beep.
“They’re on,” you nodded.
“Remember your job, honey. Repeat it to me.” Selina crossed her arms, the light from the streetlamps below sliding along her leather suit as she shifted her weight to one leg.
“Wait by the warehouse side door—the one that leads to the alley,” you sighed, your voice monotone as you rattled off this basic information. “Hide until the door opens. That’s the only door that you won’t be covering, so it’s up to me and Robin to capture any stragglers that try to get out.”
“And?”
“And we’re only allowed to incapacitate them. No killing.”
“Good. Anything else?”
“Uhh…” you drew a blank, looking away from Selina.
“Stay safe?” She suggested, guiding your chin back to look at her. You blinked up at the woman who took you in two years ago, nodding slightly in her grip.
“Always, Mama.”
She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, making sure your goggles were tight around your face. “Love you, kit.”
“Love you,” you mumbled.
Selina tipped her head slightly, quiet for a few seconds before looking at you once more. “Got my signal. I’ll see you back at the apartment, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, getting up and watching her go. You admired how smoothly she moved along the rooftops—she was a finely-tuned body, years of hard work and strength reinforcing every lean muscle. The leathers clung to her skin, weaponizing her sensuality. Selina was the most dangerous woman you knew.
She forbade you to wear anything tight, but it’s not like you planned on romping around Gotham showing off more than you had to in the first place. Your costume consisted of a dark hoodie, baggy enough to hide your body but not enough to get in the way. The hood had crudely sewn-on cat ears—you didn’t wear it up much, but you wanted the association to be there.
Kevlar layers clung to your body underneath the fabric. You had a pair of goggles that helped take the strain off your eyes when you were leaping along rooftops. Cargo pants held various weapons, including a whip wrapped around your waist like a belt. The whip was one of the first weapons you learned under her tutelage. A Cat signature, Selina said; versatile and dangerous once you figured out how to control it.
You waited until Selina had bounded away before you tapped your watch—a gift from Bats, Selina said—and zoomed in on the warehouse. Pinpointing where you needed to be, you darted from rooftop to rooftop to settle down at your vantage point.
You got to your marked location, tugging your hood on to stave off the wind as you found the best position to watch the door. You raised your hand to your comms, pressing gently on the smooth surface.
“In place,” you stated, to-the-point.
“Me too,” a voice joined. You could hear the grin in it and it made your jaw tick with annoyance. With the gentle rush of actually being part of a mission, you had momentarily forgotten that you were meant to share this responsibility.
You lifted your head, catching a glimpse of that annoyingly bright suit and far more leg on display than there ever needed to be. The boy wearing it waved enthusiastically from the other rooftop. He tapped his ear until he connected to the channel specific to you until you heard a little crackle in your ear, and then: “Hiya.”
“Hi.” You responded tersely, unsure to yourself why you were even humoring this.
“Lonely over there?”
“Nope.” You took a deep breath as you watched him come over before your answer even got a chance to register, but it’s clear he didn’t care at all. Robin landed on your roof with all the dramatic flourish you’d expect from someone better equipped for a rave than a stealth mission, and you rolled your eyes.
“Hi, pretty,” he hummed, stepping closer with a big smile. “I’m Robin. Batman’s right-hand-man and the best crime-fighting partner in the city.” His hand was extended to shake, but you pointedly ignored it.
Instead, you flicked your eyes up to the domino mask, but to your dismay, it completely hid his eye expressions. You found eyes the most useful when reading body language, so naturally, you took a step back and gave him a once-over before replying.
“Stray,” you briefly introduced, crossing your arms and standing up straight. “Forward, ain’t you?”
“You know what they say,” he chuckled, holding his arms out, “brevity is the soul of wit.”
Oh, lovely. A flirt and a goddamn nerd.
You turned, hoping ignoring him would make him go away. It did not.
He came up close behind you. “Oh, come on. You don’t know Shakespeare? That’s like—”
“I know Shakespeare,” you snapped, taking another step back. “Everyone does Shakespeare in English.”
He put his hands up, scoffing slightly. “Okay, calm down. I didn’t do anything. Just wanted to say hi, and stuff.”
“I’m not here to talk,” you mumbled. “We’ve got a job, so I’m going to do it, and then I’m going to go home and sleep.”
Robin looked like he wanted to say something, but you shot him a challenging glare that made him close his mouth.
“Alright. Yeah. Cool.”
Silence stretched between you two until you turned to look at him again. A bright smile crossed his features.
“We haven’t worked much. How long have you been… Stray?”
“Year or two,” you murmured.
“WHAT?” He looked flabbergasted. “Why haven’t we worked together yet?”
“Maybe because we operate on completely different parts of the city,” you muttered. “Or maybe because we both do very different work in the city.”
His shoulders slumped slightly and he crossed his arms, letting out an inquisitive “hmm.”
You looked over, waiting for him to say anything else, and even gestured your hand in a way that made him seem to remember he was very close to getting in your space.
He backed up and slowly retreated to the rooftop across from yours, letting you exhale a sigh of relief.
You didn’t hate him. Obviously, you knew that he didn’t do anything, but the fact that he was a boy put you on edge. The life Selina saved you from after plucking you off the streets two years ago had never put you in the path of good men. Maybe one or two were respectful enough to you, but it was hard to be around any man without seeing the way their wandering eyes could always be caught where they weren’t meant to be—they way they all wanted to slide their hands under your skin and take and take and take.
You didn’t want to hate him. It was just hard to feel anything else but uneasy, even if it wasn’t his fault.
Even so, you were surprised that he didn’t call you out on your tone. Maybe there was a nicer way to respond to his questions, you figured, but he didn’t seem offended or anything.
Huh.
You flicked a glance over to him, watching the way he settled back on his own roof and kept his eyes on the door now. Sighing softly, you shook your head and focused again.
The fighting started soon after. Selina and Bats were clearly in the middle of the fray. There were some gunshots, but you doubted anyone important was hurt—based on the rate of bullets fired, it sounded like the opponents were panicking. That was good.
“You ready?” His voice crackled in your ear again. Sucking in a sharp breath, you lifted your hand.
“Yes. They should be running out here soon. The shooting’s slowed.”
“Mhm. What’s the plan?”
“Chase,” you murmured.
The doors burst open then, and a band of five stumbled out, loose grips on their guns as their feet pounded the concrete. You saw Robin’s body slide off the edge of the building, landing as he flashed them a bright smile. When the men turned, distracted by him, you dropped and flanked the other side, whip in hand.
“Fuck—it’s just the fucking kids!” One yelled as his comrades gasped in fear and started to run. Annoyed by his sudden lack of support, the man turned on you and raised his gun.
He was no match for you. One gunman was nothing. Your boots stepped closer—once, twice—before the crack of your whip preceded the sound of his gun flying back into a nearby wall.
Robin was behind him instantly, yanking his arms behind his back and securing him with some tech that would flag Bats for the location for pickup.
“Hm,” you muttered, only slightly annoyed that it was this easy. “Four to go.”
Robin beamed at you and took off. You did the same, following that flailing yellow cape.
Two of them were slower than the rest—these ones you easily caught up to and leapt on, cuffing them and giving the same treatment as the first guy. You didn’t stick around to celebrate for long since there were two more to get.
It didn’t take long to catch up with the rest of them, who were more prepared than the last pair. One signaled to the others with a frantic yelp as he noticed the two teenagers on their heels, and he fired shots at you. One landed right by your leg—you hissed, ducking behind a garbage bin for cover while Robin did the same on the opposite end.
Quickly, you lifted your wrist to scan a map and pressed your finger to your comm.
“If you head east, the alley will eventually converge with another. You can probably get in front of them like that.”
“Yeah, I know it. What about you? Did you get hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll be heading up.”
You doubled back about fifty feet to a ladder that you promptly scaled, briefly scanning the rooftops and taking the quickest possible path to where you guessed the stragglers would end up.
“Fuck, they split!” Robin’s voice hissed in your ear. “One’s heading west. I can’t tail ‘em both.”
You opened your map again—the one heading eastwards had a longer way to go, and Robin was further from the one heading westwards. You trusted Robin, maybe, but not enough to give him the opportunity to fuck up your mission. You had people you couldn’t disappoint.
“No, stay east. Try to stop him from getting onto a main road. I’ll be quick.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You rolled your eyes and changed paths, heading west until you caught the trail of the straggler.
“Heard gunshots, kit. You okay?” Selina’s voice was welcome in your ear.
“Yeah, Mama. Nearly done.”
You focused back on the path, forcing your legs to move faster, your body to work harder than it ever has. Eventually, you threw yourself down, sliding down a fire exit and landing on your feet right behind your target. He found himself staring at a wall. You almost laughed—it was just like superhero movies.
“I’m warning you, get back…” The gunman lifted a shaky hand at you. It usually worked in your favor that some of these goons had moral issues with shooting kids immediately.
“Unfortunate,” you purred, pulling a throwing knife from where it was tucked in your sleeve and throwing it sharply at his hand, effectively slicing an angry line down all the tender bits and forcing him to drop his weapon before getting close and knocking his lights out.
You cuffed him to be safe, and as an extra precaution, pocketed his gun before heading back to the rooftops.
“Robin, where are you?”
“Parallel to him. I can intercept his front, get him to double back into the alleys, but I don’t know how long I can run after him before he realizes I have no backup.”
“Give me a minute, would ya?” Your knees ached again as you set off running, senses finely tuned to listen for where they could possibly be. Then you heard it—down to your right, a few buildings over, someone running like hell.
You sprinted over and nearly threw yourself off the roof in the line of danger before you realized Robin wasn’t nearby.
Your grip changed to keep you on the roof as you peered down and examined more closely. The guy that just ran past was definitely your guy—you fished a tracker out of one of your pockets and threw it down, hoping it would meet its targets. These trackers were engineered to be like stubborn burrs on fabric, so long as they hit.
Instead of chasing him, you slumped along the roof ledge and took a moment to catch your breath. Did Robin get hurt? You lifted your hand to your ear.
“Robin? Talk to me.”
No reply.
You slunk down into the alley, boots softly hitting the concrete as you looked around.
“Robin, do you copy?” You asked more harshly. You hadn’t heard any gunshots, nor any other indicators of violence, so what the hell happened to him?
Growling under your breath, you backtracked where you thought the straggler came from. Straight, straight again, left, probably.
You looked left and right, ready to call for him again on your comms, already panicking and formulating what you were going to say when you had to explain to Catwoman and Batman that you split up and lost Boy Wonder, before you finally saw him. Relief washed over your shoulders.
Robin was standing in front of a lady, frozen in place. You got close enough to see why—needles, more than one, around the woman’s body.
Your jaw clenched. From what Selina told you, Robin wasn’t just some stuck up boy that worked with Batman. He operated a little differently—you could tell—which meant his values may have been a little different from his mentor’s. It could mean stuck-up, but the way he carried himself like he had something he needed to prove too had you wondering that, just maybe, he was using Robin as a disguise for more than just his civilian identity.
Wouldn’t that be ironic?
You took a step closer, eyes flicking between Robin and the woman. She looked young, you figured. Should be in college, or something. She was breathing. Not dead. Saveable, if you called. So you did—just a quick button press on your watch that called paramedics to the immediate coordinates.
“Ambulance is on the way,” you said out loud. “She’ll live. We have to finish.”
You pulled up the map, turning around as you located the blinking dot—it was moving, which meant you had hit your target with the tracker. He was heading deeper into Gotham. If he got in a car, which he no doubt was calling by now, it would be impossible to catch him. It would be too dangerous to chase him any further, he’d find the burr tracker and ditch it, and without that tracker you’d have nothing to go off of. Then you’d have to explain to Bats and Catwoman why you failed the one thing they trusted you with.
Robin was clearly trying to move—trying—his feet were slowly leading him away but his eyes were glued to a scene that you knew was significant to him, and he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Come on. We’re running out of time,” you breathed, impatience lacing your tone. You didn’t know a way to soothe him back to the present. You didn’t want to rush him, but time was running out and you didn’t want to fail.
Crack!
The whip hit the air right by his leg. You saw the way his cape fluttered with the wind. It was meant to scare him, get him to look up, get him to focus.
“Any day now, Hamlet!” You growled, and turned without seeing if he followed you.
Within seconds, though, his footsteps fell in beat with yours.
“He’s heading deeper into the city,” you reported, wrapping the whip around your arm so it would stay out of the way. “There’s no time for an elaborate takedown. He’ll be tired—we just need to catch up and pray we’re good enough to get him.”
“We are,” Robin said with certainty.
The tracker said he was nearby—catching his breath? It took you a moment too long to figure it out.
A hand reached out just as you passed what you assumed was a turn you could ignore—your mistake—and snatched you by the collar. You yelped, your whip flying out of your grip as your face gets pressed into brick and a gun gets pointed at Robin.
You grunted, letting a cry slip past your lips, and the gunman smashes you against the wall good enough to shut you up. The sharp tang of blood invades your mouth. You make a feeble attempt to twist and see what Robin is doing.
It was clear the tables had turned, and you were caught. You couldn’t reach for your comms, and you were sure Robin would quicker get a bullet in his body before his hand could even get close to his ear.
“Stop resisting,” the gunman snarled into your ear, and without any other option, you slump down. “Good. Keep going, girl.” You grunted as your knees hit concrete, staring back at the man with what you hope is conveying your pure, unbridled hate.
“You just stay good for me, okay? Nobody needs to get hurt.”
“Don’t touch her like—” Robin snarled. You heard his feet shuffle, and both you and the gunman yelled at him to get back. No need to play hero if there wasn’t going to be a winner.
The gunman patted you down. Searching for weapons, you assumed, but his hands were everywhere and it was filling your head with darkness. You bit your tongue, unsure if the taste of blood now was from the man’s doing or your own.
“I’ll kill you,” Robin hissed. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
The gunman took your knives, your whip, and everything hidden in your belt. He searched your pockets, checked everything else, even found the gun you tucked away and kicked that out of reach.
He pushed you down more, a boot pushing down on your spine until you were on your stomach. You heard the sound of the muzzle of the gun thump against Robin’s forehead, and he was slowly forced to kneel just the way you were.
“Robin, do you copy?” Bats’s voice spoke on the main line. Neither you or Robin could safely reply. “Stray, are you there?”
Satisfied that you were completely unarmed, the gunman slowly let go of you, drawing his hand back to focus on disarming Robin.
His mistake.
You lunged, wrapping yourself around the gunman’s body so it would be more difficult to shoot you. Taking him off balance made him fire a shot at Robin, but the force of your body crashing into his made him miss completely. Robin rolled out of the way and came to your assistance, kicking the gun out of the way and helping wrestle the guy until cuffs were on him.
Robin tightened the cuffs past comfortable, rage making his limbs shake. You pulled away, letting him deal with it.
Breathing heavy, you reached up to your ear to finally reply.
“Copy. We’re both good. All of them should be marked for pickup.”
“Good work,” Batman said in that gruff, clinical voice of his. “Head home. Stay vigilant.”
The gunman had been promptly knocked out, blood running down his face and staining Robin’s knuckles. You forced yourself to move and collected your things, lost in your head as you tried to shake off the feeling of being patted down. You didn’t notice Robin was waiting for you until you turned back around. Part of you still felt a little shaken, and Robin was safe enough to want to be near—if only for safety—so when you went to leave, you padded alongside him until your bearings returned.
“Your face okay?” He asked.
“Stings, but it’ll heal. Your knuckles okay?”
“They’re fine. Sorry. I would have stepped in sooner if I could’ve.”
“Don’t be stupid. You would have been shot.”
He shrugged. “Still looked awful. Uh… good teamwork, though.”
“Mm,” you hum. You pause by a fire escape and nod tersely. He returned the gesture and headed further down the alley while you scaled the ladder.
You hissed as the cloth touched your cheek, flinching away from the gentlest hands you ever knew. Selina didn’t take it personally.
“You gonna sit still or do you wanna do it yourself?”
“I don’t need help,” you mumbled, but leaned back anyway. It didn’t hurt any less the second time around, but this time you grit your teeth and endured as she cleaned your face up.
“‘S it gonna show when school starts?” You murmured.
“Might heal up enough by then. A week should bring your pretty face good as new.”
“Mm,” you grunted, letting out a long sigh when she finally pulled away and got up to put away the first aid kit. A cat was curled on your lap—a lithe black and white one, purring softly as you stroked it between the ears.
Selina’s apartment was probably the closest thing to heaven in Gotham. It was cluttered, but about a dozen were allowed to exist wherever they liked. You and Selina divided chores of cleaning up after them, so it didn’t stink as bad as you expected it to when she first proposed bringing you to live with her here. You had a private room upstairs where you didn’t let the cats free roam, which helped you get comfortable with the concept of having your own space. It was nice here, too—quiet, with a good view of the city out the windows. Over the years, Selina helped you feel comfortable. She commented more than once about how you weren’t skittish anymore, and she often chided you for leaving your things out in the bathroom.
It was weird to you. You’d never had the domestic privilege to be scolded for a forgotten mascara tube by the sink. Never been yelled at for forgetting to throw out the empty body wash bottle and grab a new one.
Then there was school; you’d been keeping up just fine with online lessons, just to catch up, but this year Selina said you were ready for public school. It wasn’t ideal, you thought, especially not at Gotham Academy, but Selina said it like it was one of the conditions for living here.
You wanted to run at first, just like all the other houses, but Selina was good. If it’s just public school you need to hold out for, you could do it.
Probably.
Selina must’ve noticed you zoning out, because she moved back to the couch and pulled you into her side.
“Not roughed up anywhere else?”
“No.”
“How do you feel about Robin?”
“He’s fine.”
“Really? That’s an accomplishment.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed as you sunk into her warmth. “He’s fine. He listens.”
“Does he? That’s good,” Selina purred, stroking your hair, still damp from a shower. “You two make a good team.”
“All thanks to me,” you murmured.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.”
“Hmm. You know, I heard a little mishap happened with that last guy that Batman collected. Seemed a little too beat up. You know anything about that?” Selina continued to play with your hair, pulling out her phone to scroll through the news, or something.
“Was necessary. He’s not dead, is he?”
Selina nudged her nose once in your hair. “No. Why?”
“We didn’t kill him. We followed the rules.”
Selina hummed, leaning her head against yours as she settled you both against the couch. The black and white cat curled up in the crook of your body. “I knew you’d like him.”
You snuggled up more. “I didn’t say anything about liking him.”