Chapter Text
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*****
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It was weird going back to these streets without his Robin costume.
Tim Drake, the one-time Boy Wonder, looked around him at the dilapidated slums of Gotham City, eyeing the feral alleycats and the overturned trash cans they feasted from. Back when he was still a crime-fighter, those trash cans would've been weapons to punt at unruly thugs, using the martial prowess that Batman had taught him and the strength he had accumulated through his intense training. He had been able to swing via his grapnel gun above the dirty streets and broken buildings, finding the perfect vantage points to strike down upon his marks. Even now, he had kept his physical conditioning, and was tougher as a teenage boy than most grown adults.
But that life was behind him. His time as Robin was over and done with, brought to an end by the machinations of the late Clown Prince of Crime, who had tortured all desire for an adventurous life out of him. He had learned his lesson about "playing hero" the hard way, that crime fighting wasn't all fun and games, and that he was better suited for a normal life. After all, what did he get out of it in the end?
"Robin, wait!" The sound of his old hero name shook him out of his reverie, and he turned back to see his companion struggling to catch up with him; a young girl with short black hair and pretty black eyes that shone in the dim light of the streetlamps. "I can't run as fast as you."
Tim smiled, as new good memories overtook the old bad ones.
Oh yeah. I got that.
'Sorry Annie," he apologized, offering her his hand and a smile of reassurance. "I guess I kinda spaced out for a second."
"Are you okay?" Annie looked at him quizzically, as she placed her other hand over their clasped fingers. "You look distracted by something."
"Nah, I'm fine." he said, and gave her fingers a squeeze. "Only...you called me 'Robin' back there..."
"Oh, sorry," Annie blushed, her eyes darting away for a moment. "I guess I still think of you that way, ever since you saved me."
"It's cool." Tim was also trying not to blush at the thought of coming to her rescue. "Let's hurry, before we miss the show."
She nodded, and together they strode hand in hand down the narrow alleyway, their eyes fixed on the road ahead. As they walked, Tim continued to smile as he thought about how the mysterious girl had came back into his life. After all the pain and guilt he had experienced in his truncated tenure as Robin, he had managed to claw back one thing he had lost during that time. Annie, the quiet girl of clay created by Clayface, taken from him and absorbed by the criminal, and brought back once more by Batman's incredible technology.
When Batman had first posited the idea that Annie could still be saved, Tim had jumped at the chance to be Robin one last time, despite everything that had happened. He thought he hated that stupid costume, that he never wanted to see it again, but if anything could drag him back into the life of a hero, it was the girl that had sacrificed herself to save him. He had relentlessly hunted down Clayface, and got him to agree to PROJECT REBIRTH. the risky scientific procedure that would separate Annie from Clayface for good. The remnants of Annie's consciousness within Clayface had held up just well enough for Batman and Robin to piece her back together, and with a flash of electricity, she was back in his arms, living proof that his time as Robin wasn't all for nothing.
Now they were just two teenagers, going across town for a night at the movies. And Annie was his...girlfriend? Tim wasn't really sure what he wanted Annie to be to him, but he knew that the feeling of her hand in his was comforting. He never wanted to let go again.
After a few minutes, they arrived at the small Gotham theater a little ways from Crime Alley, where a medium-sized crowd was forming outside. The theater was a relic of the glory days of Gotham and set to be demolished this year, but the owners were having one more exhibition to try and save it, with a little financial backing from Wayne Enterprises. "The Gray Ghost vs. The Music Meister," a super-old movie from thirty years ago, was having a rare re-release, complete with an autograph signing session with Simon Trent, the Gray Ghost himself. It was Bruce's favorite movie from his childhood, and even though Tim didn't much care for old, dated movies, he was still up for a little adventure, and took Annie with him to see it.
As they got in line, Tim and Annie looked at the people that had gathered at the theater that evening. "Bigger crowd than I thought," Tim said, positioning himself to keep Annie from being crushed by the mass of people. "Who knew old movies were still such a draw?"
"I like old movies," Annie said with a smile, her eyes glancing over to the old posters that still adorned the side of the theater. "I like all the old actors and actresses, the clothes they wore, the way they perform. It's kind of classic."
"Yeah, your old man was an actor," Tim said, his mind recalling Matt Hagen before he became Clayface. "I guess that's one good thing you got from him."
Annie nodded absently, as she continued to scan the posters.
Suddenly she gasped, and let go of his hand. Tim's eyes widened with surprise, but Annie was already exiting the line and running to the side of the theater. "Annie, where are you going?" the boy said, as he broke out of the line and followed her to the wall of posters, where she was staring transfixed at one poster in particular. As Tim looked at the poster, he gasped as well, all thoughts of the Gray Ghost event leaving him like gas from the Joker's smoke-bombs.
At first glance, the movie advertised on the poster seemed to be just your normal action movie, with a beefed up hero sporting a machine gun and a macho sneer. Only that hero was Matt Hagen, his handsome face in sharp contrast to the clay monster he would eventually become. But what really caught Tim's eye was Matt's co-star, standing beside him and holding a small pistol towards the viewer. It was a young teen-aged girl, with a bobbed haircut and dark eyes, dressed in a trenchcoat and carrying a decidedly heroic edge about her.
"It's...me." Annie said what they were both thinking, her eyes wide as she focused on her fictional doppelganger.
"Whoa...!" Tim stood next to her, looking at the girl in the poster and then back at Annie. "Gotta say, that girl looks a lot like you."
Annie didn't meet Tim's gaze, but continued to stare at the poster. "Why do I look like her...?" she said, almost to herself. "Why do I look EXACTLY like her?"
"Don't you know?" Tim asked. "I mean, when you were a part of Clayface..."
Annie shook her head. "I've forgotten most of what I knew when I was still connected to him," she said, closing her eyes. "I don't know what my father is thinking."
Tim nodded, thinking back to PROJECT REBIRTH. It was unknown at first just how many of Clayface's memories she still had within her, and even Batman told Tim to be cautious around her, lest she somehow be in thrall to her criminal "father." But after a few weeks, it was clear the psychic connection she had with Clayface was severed, that the procedure to give Annie her second life had been a success. She was truly her own person now, a new life struggling to make sense of her existence just like everyone else.
Now, there was even more stuff she had to make sense out of.
"What are you going to do?" Tim said as he folded his arms with a huff.
Annie's face hardened with determination, as she continued to look at her "reflection" in the poster. "I'll ask him."
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*****
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"You have 40 minutes."
Annie nodded at the prison guard, then turned back to look at her "father" through the thick glass dividing them. Inside the visitation booth of Stonegate Penitentiary, the man formerly known as Clayface, but now called Matt Hagen, sat down in a small chair and picked up the phone, his eyes haunted with the weight of a thousand tragedies. With his clay body rebuilt into a human shape by PROJECT REBIRTH, Hagen looked as he did before his transformation, but after his car accident, battered face and all. His vanity didn't seem bruised, however, and he carried himself with a sort of sad humility, as if he couldn't ask for any more than what he already had.
Time and tragedy had taught him a few lessons as well.
Annie picked up the other phone, and regarded Hagen with a sad look. "Are you still doing alright?" she asked him, trying to be cordial with the man she had such a complicated history with.
"Well, they leave me alone for the most part," Hagen said, giving Annie an easygoing smile that would've been endearing, had he still kept his movie star looks. "I can't really transform like I used to, but I'm still stronger than everyone except Bane. Besides, It's nice not having to run anymore."
"I know." Annie closed her eyes slowly. "I don't have to run anymore either."
Hagen winced, the reminder of his villainous pursuit of her visibly hitting home.
After PROJECT REBIRTH was complete, Annie was surprised by Clayface's offer to remain in her life. He had been a menace to her, always on her tail trying to reabsorb her, to destroy her. But her defiance of him in the face of death had somehow earned his respect, and his interest in her as a person. Now that he was Matt Hagen again, they met every few weeks in this visitation booth, two hearts of clay connecting over trauma only they could understand.
"You still friends with the kid?" Hagen said, both knowing who he was referring to.
"He's my hero," Annie answered, without a hint of hesitation. "He always takes care of me."
"Yeah." Hagen grinned at her. "Even I couldn't shake him when he was trying to bring you back. Not bad for a brat that can't even drive."
The two grew silent for a moment, as the clay girl screwed up the courage to say what was really on her mind. "Why...do I look the way I do?" she asked him, tilting her head to the side.
"Huh?" Hagen blinked in confusion.
"We went to the theater last night," Annie explained. "On the wall, there was a poster of one of your movies, and there was a girl there. She had my face. The face you gave me."
"Oh..." A shadow went over the man's eyes for a brief moment, though it was gone soon after. "THAT movie."
"Am I...am I just a copy of her?" she asked, a part of her was dreading the answer.
Hagen waved her off with a snort. "Don't think too much about it," he said. "I just needed a scout to check out Gotham and see if it was safe to come out. Cute kids don't attract too much suspicion, so I made you a cute kid. That's all there is to it."
Annie's eyes narrowed. "I may not share a body with you anymore," she said. "But I know you're lying."
Hagen jerked back a bit at this, and threw a sharp glare at this girl. But Annie was resolute, and would not back down. Despite her dread, she had to know the truth. About what she really was.
The man sighed, and his shoulders relaxed. "That was the last movie I made before I was turned into Clayface," he said. "It was just a typical action movie, nothing special on the face of it. But I had a great child co-star, a sort of girl action hero, which was the trend at the time. I usually hate working with kids, but she was sharp, never missed a trick, and motivated to do the best job she could. I was basically upstaged by her, but it gave the movie the extra it needed to break 500 million. She really sold it, the idea that a girl could be an action star."
"You made me in her image." Annie said, as her eyes widened in realization.
"I never forgot her." Hagen nodded, a thread of nostalgia entering his voice. "Her memory must've given your creation an extra oomph. Probably why you turned out so different from my other scouts. The only one that ever had a will of her own."
Hagen leaned forward to look her in the eyes. "But you have more than a will," he told her. "I gave you something else as well, even though I didn't mean to."
The girl looked down at her hand, her hand made of the same clay-like substance he was. She wiggled her fingers, as if trying to reassure herself that they were really hers. And yet they had power, far more power than a girl of her purported age was supposed to have.
It was the power of Clayface.
"You feel it, right?" Hagen said. "The abilities I lost, you have them now."
Annie looked at him for a moment more, then back down at her hand. She concentrated hard, and just like that, her hand started to transform with the power she always knew she had. The hand lost the texture of skin and became a metal mallet, rough and black. She concentrated again, and the hammer turned into a spiked ball, and then into a sharp blade.
"Yes..." Annie whispered, almost to herself. "I knew the whole time."
"When I first created you, I didn't think you were a real person," the man admitted. "I even wanted to destroy you, to eat you. But you wouldn't let it happen. Even when I absorbed you, a part of you refused to give in. You're strong, like that kid was."
Annie nodded. It was true, and she knew it. Her feelings for Robin, his words of encouragement, were the only things she couldn't let go of, even as Clayface reabsorbed her body and mind. She had been split apart, torn asunder, but a part of her remained untouched, separate from Clayface, unable to be accessed by him no matter how hard he tried. It was her own strong heart, born out of her love of a hero...and an actor's memory of a very special girl.
Hagen leaned forward, pressing his hand on the glass. "My life is here now," he said. "I screwed it up, so I accept it. But you can still carry my legacy. You can do all the things I was never able to do since my accident. You have both the power and will."
Annie's eyes teared up, and she placed her clay-formed hand next to his on the glass. "Dad..." she said, and it was the first time she had ever called him that.
"You're the only part of my life that has any meaning now," he continued, with all the gravitas of a classically-trained thespian. "This life is yours now, so use it. Don't waste it like I did. Don't become putty in anyone's hands."
Annie smiled and, for the first time in her short life, felt something akin to affection for her creator. "I won't," she promised.
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*****
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The film projector flashed its twinkling light on the white screen inside Wayne Manor's home theater. and Annie watched the movie with a bowl of popcorn by her side and a small mug of cocoa in her hand. As a clay-based metahuman, it took a lot of visits to the Batcave to confirm whether or not she was even capable of ingesting typical human sustenance, so she was still a hit hesitant around most food products. After initial testing was complete, it was confirmed that food and drink would pose no threat to her unique biology, so Batman gave her the go-ahead to have a few snacks every now and again. More tests were coming, though, and that's why Annie was here tonight, to see if there was anything else that needed to be done to keep her clay form stable.
Right now, though, there was time to catch a flick, so Annie decided to borrow the home theater for a private screening. After she picked out the movie, Mr. Wayne's butler Alfred Pennyworth had popped some popcorn for her and then left her to her own devices, though he told her he would remain available if she needed him. As she settled in to watch the movie, she observed Matt Hagen's action hero character on the screen facing off against a gang of thugs. Wayne Manor was one of the few places that still had copies of Matt Hagen's movies, possibly due to Batman's professional interest in his alter-ego Clayface.
Tonight, however, it was the other major character Annie was interested in.
Annie watched with rapt interest as her biological double in the film took on the thugs alongside Hagen's character. Even though her action scenes were mostly accomplished via stunt work, the young actress indeed had the heroic presence that Hagen had described, with a confident glare and a firm grip on her pistol. What's more, she had an aura of righteousness about her, and the film had the good sense to make her character the moral center of the story. The actress had all the courage Annie seemingly lacked, and yet it was somehow familiar to her, like a part of her she didn't know existed.
She was so engrossed in the movie that she didn't even notice when the other visitor arrived until she was right up on her. Annie jolted in surprise, but soon relaxed upon catching sight of the young woman's flame-red hair and kind, blue eyes. "Oh, Ms. Gordon," she greeted her, her voice a light chirp.
"Please." The woman's voice was light and filled with laughter. "Call me Barbara, or Barb. Ms. Gordon sounds like a tax accountant."
"Oh, um okay." Annie tried to conjure up a smile for her benefit. It was easier than she thought; Barbara Gordon had a way of adding levity and cheer to any occasion, even when she was fighting crime as Batgirl.
Barbara had shown up that day to offer moral support to Annie, since the long testing procedures were isolating and nerve-wracking for the young girl. At Tim's request, they had shared their secret identities with her, wanting to assure her that they trusted her completely. It was nice, having people who cared about her, even though she was once Clayface. Barbara in particular was slotting right into the role of an older sibling, and Annie found she had starting to trust her as much as she did Tim.
"So, movie night?" Barbara walked over to the booth, and Annie made room for her as the older female settled into the seat. "Dick and I used to watch old SF serials back when we were still dating."
Annie nodded briefly, turning back to the screen.
"Never liked the gory stuff, though," Barbara grabbed a handful of popcorn, and tossed it into her mouth. "Wait, is this one of your father's movies?"
"Yeah," she answered. "It was the last movie he made before becoming Clayface."
If Barbara had noticed how much the girl in the movie resembled Annie, she didn't show it. "Well, maybe people will give it another shot, now that he's kinda reformed." she said. "Even Riddler was able to start a business after all the trouble he caused."
Annie put the mug of cocoa down on the table beside her. "Barbara, what made you want to be Batgirl?" she asked suddenly, prompting a look of surprise from the young woman. "Why did you quit?"
Barbara sighed, an embarrassed flush coming to her cheeks. "Honestly, I think it was my crush on Batman," she admitted, as if she was talking about a teen heartthrob from a magazine cover. "He was my ideal, everything I thought a hero should be, and I loved the idea of fighting side-by-side with him. Also, I really did like being a crime-fighter, the rush of kicking butt, all that fun stuff. After what happened to Tim, though, it all kind of fell apart."
"Tim doesn't talk about it much with me." Annie lowered her head, her hand gripping her black skirt absently. "I only know a little bit. Dr. Thompkins knows more, but she says it's patient-client privilege."
"It was horrible what happened," Barbara agreed, though she didn't give out any more details. "But the fact was, we all got into this thing for the wrong reasons. Our egos, our fantasies. In the end, I think only Dick had it within him to want to continue. That's why he's still Nightwing, and why I'm joining the police force instead."
"Robin still has it..." Annie clenched her fists in his lap, a tremor of righteous indignation arising in her voice.
Barbara's eyes hardened. "You didn't see him that night, Annie," she told the younger girl seriously. "You didn't see what was taken from him. Taken from US."
"No, he's amazing!" Annie insisted, turning towards the redhead with a sudden blaze of passion. "Whatever happened to him back then, he still came back to get me! All of you are so great! I wish I could..."
She stopped then, her voice catching in her throat. A single tear fell from her eye and landed on the booth.
"Annie..." Barbara said quietly Her eyes had regained their warmth, and she scooted closer to the girl, moving the popcorn bowl to the side.
"Don't you still want to do it?" Annie asked, looking down. "Don't you want that to be your purpose?"
Barbara took Annie's chin in her hand, and tilted her head to look her in the eyes. She smiled at her, a brilliant smile that could light the streets of Gotham for ten years. "Don't ever lose that spark, kid," she told Annie. "There's nothing more important than people who still care enough to make a difference."
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Next Up- Part 2