i am brave, i am bruised

“I’m fine. You should see the other guy.” It was true, Jason might’ve received a few punches, but the other guy was ready to be taken the hospital if he had gotten a few more minutes alone with him. There were some major anger issues surrounding Jason, and it was hard to keep them in check. With everything that had happened, he had just gotten a little bitter and didn’t care much for anything anymore. Why should he? He’s only going to be let down in the end anyways. Thinking he had maybe found his people, some that he could get along with, but they were so quick to judge him and accuse him of things he didn’t do, that it showed him their true colours. Fuck them. He was better off on his own. He had managed to do that ever since he was a kid.

He didn’t recognize her. So it wasn’t like Damian— he didn’t know her at all. Like— like he really was as young as he looked. But he looked older than 16— Older than the pictures she’d seen at the beginning of her time as Batgirl. But not too much older— this was confusing. She needed to talk to Kate. And Dick. First, talking to Jason. A soft smile crossed her face at Jason’s quip. She could hear Dick saying that too, and Tim, and Damian. They were all similar in their own small ways. 

But there was something angry about Jason. Bitter. Dangerous, but familiar. The kind of dangerous that they all were. “As long as it’s not murder,” Cass replied, shrugging as she did so. Maybe he remembered being Red Hood, but just didn’t remember her. No— but the way he spoke, the way he moved. He hadn’t died yet. He can’t have.

Benoit smiled warmly when Anne seemed intrigued by his profession.  “I do quite enjoy it!  And in my experience people solve more crimes than they think they do.  It could be as simple as finding a lost pen or as complex as unfolding a con job.”  Benoit said slowly, trying not to reveal how much he knew of Anne’s life.  After all, how do you tell someone that they are just a character?  “Maybe you could help me out with a case some time.  I’m sure you would be fantastic at it.  Sometimes they can be morbid but if I am honest I have never taken a case that wasn’t interesting.”  He laughed, amused and delighted at her thoughts always.  “I always try to call it that, some former clients and interviewees are not so fond of the practice but you can learn quite a lot.  See you’re a natural born detective already!  The first step is imagining the lives and then the second is trying to figure out if your imagination is right or not based on clues.”

Anne couldn’t help but lean forward as Benoit continued to speak. Something about his manner was infectious, and his easy demeanor made her feel comfortable. “Perhaps I will take you up on that offer. After all, there’s only so many hours I can spend at the library before people begin to believe I’ve taken up permanent residence.” Powell Library was divine and she adored the building so very much. “I’d never thought of it that way, but I suppose you are right— a mixture of imagination and logic is necessary for most endeavors, and when you only have some of the puzzle pieces to complete a picture, your imagination is needed to create possible solutions to fill in the gaps.” 

Felicity grinned at the other’s excitement and interest.  “I study art.  A mix of application and art history, so clearly my mother thinks I’m not going anywhere in life.”  Felicity laughed, knowing all too well the lectures she got from her mother.  “Honestly school flies by fast, not to be an old fart but enjoy it while you can.”  She grinned and took her hand.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Anne.  My name is Felicity Coulter.”  She held onto Anne’s hand a bit longer as she quickly took a pen out of her bag and wrote her number on her hand.  “Here, it really would make it a lot easier.”

Anne laughed at the blonde’s words. “How interesting! I wish I was more artistically inclined, but alas my talents lie with words.” She nodded understandingly as she continued— her schoolgirl days felt like it had passed by so quickly, and she supposed university would be something similar. At the name Coulter, Anne’s grin slipped slightly before it came back in full force. Perhaps Coulter was a common name— besides Lyra would know if she had any sisters or brothers. Once Felicity had finished writing out her number, Anne quickly inputted it into her phone, sending off a quick text once she’d finished. “There, now you should have a text from an unknown number— which is most decidedly my phone number. As horrible as it doe sound, I am glad that your dress ripped. I doubt I would have found myself in your wonderful company if you hadn’t fallen into me!” The world truly did work in mysterious ways.

Ethan put his head in his hands for a second, trying to compose himself for a moment.  It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about crying, he always felt comfortable in his emotions, but he never liked crying in front of other people in case it made them uncomfortable.  Once he pulled himself together he wiped away the rest of his tears and sat up.

He nodded, happy that he wasn’t the only one.  His life was a whirlwind of events the past few months and Ethan found it hard to keep his footing.  “Honestly I don’t know if my change is for the better or not.”  Ethan sighed, the memories of his choices and the choices other people made for him were heavy on his mind.  “I feel like I haven’t been able to breathe for months now, let alone sleep.”  He knew he looked like it, the ever permanent bags under his eyes never seemed to leave him anymore.

A vacant laugh escaped Ethan as he ran his hand through his hair.  “Shit, you didn’t come up here to listen to a stranger cryptically explaining his life.”  He sighed and shook his head.  “My name’s Ethan.”  He offered, not really worrying about if people knew him or not.  He figured that he didn’t care if word got back to the Banished Brawlers about him being there.  Hell, Ethan even wished they knew so at least he could see familiar faces

Cassandra watched him. Head in hands— he needed a moment. Trying to pull everything together— like a drawstring bag pulling tight. The set of his shoulders— he’d seen things. Like a soldier, but not— and anybody could see he didn’t sleep. The bags under his eyes were big, and the one streetlamp made it look worse. He felt guilt, and... heavy. Like sandbags and boulders dragging you underwater. 

He was tired. It was a tired she understood. It was a tired that everybody in her family knew— a tired that everybody her family worked with knew. It was a tired where the world was just too much and you just wanted a nap— but there was no time. No time because there was another threat, another danger, another problem to deal with. She didn’t know why he felt like it, but she understood.

“My name is Cassandra.” Ethan is his name. “Change is change. You make it good or bad.” She didn’t know what else to say— what else there was to say, to someone you didn’t know when they had been crying before. But his mood now— before he was more inward. Now he didn’t care? But still so tired. “Are you from here?” Cass hadn’t met anyone who was really from here yet, which confused her— were they all like her and Kate? Was now the time? Maybe not the best time, but she still needed to know— and Ethan looked like he needed to not think.

Hearing someone approached, Ethan tried to quickly dry his eyes.  But he was a bit shocked to see that she was talking to herself, not that he minded, it was just putting things into perspective for him.  Ethan gave a small smile and shook his head.  “No I’m alright.  Just going through a tough time right now.”  He said honestly, not knowing any other way to put it.  “Though it sounds like I am the one who ruined your moment alone.  It seemed like a nice monologue you were working up, I’m sorry to interrupt it.”  Ethan knew all about monologuing.  His buddy Matty did it quite often and frankly Ethan knew it was best to not interrupt and just let his friend go.  So he felt bad interrupting her.

Ethan had to admit he was a bit shocked that she sat down next to him but he moved to give her some more room.  He let out a low sigh, taking in what she had just said.  “I feel like none of the things that have lead me here was my doing.  I know that’s not really true, I made choices and they clearly had consequences, but too many of the incidents were so far out of my control.  I just feel like a puppet in other people’s games and I haven’t stopped running for months now.”  It was true, ever since Detroit he kept looking over his shoulder.  The Phoenixes said he was safe with them, but Ethan never settled down fully before he had to be on the run with them from the Brawlers.  “The world I am in now is way different than the world I was in a year ago.”

A sympathetic smile crossed her face as the older man spoke. She knew something about tough times. She turned her gaze towards the other, hoping that he saw her sincerity— only to blush as he continued. “You needn’t apologize for that. The moon will be waiting, should I decide to continue my conversation with her. I don’t often monologue as such these days, but I’ve found that sometimes talking about what’s in my mind, even if it is to the trees and the breeze, helps with it all.” Katie Maurice, her friend in glass, had been a good listener. But there was something freeing about releasing thoughts into the world around her— and almost comforting. 

His words— she nodded along, brushing her hair out of her face as some wind blew rogue strands into her eyes. “I can’t say that I have much experience with feeling like a puppet— although I do understand feeling like everything is spiraling out of control. I’ve made choices without fully considering and comprehending the consequences, and thus starting domino effects that I’ve had to rush to fix.” Cole and Billy— Josie and the town, she shook her head slightly, dispelling the thoughts from her mind. “And I definitely understand the latter sentiment. Sometimes I stare at the world around me, and I have to ask myself how I got here.” The twenty-first century— Marilla would call it un-Christian. Mrs. Lynde would call it Satanic. Anne herself simply didn’t understand. 

A part of her wanted to hold his hand or touch his knee, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but she knew that not many would appreciate a random girl touching them in the middle of the night. “We can’t control what other people do, whether it is to us or to the people we care about. We can not blame ourselves for their actions. All we can do is do our best.” It was another lesson that was hard-won, but Anne had learned it all the same.  

Kate smiled as Cass dug into her pint of ice cream.  Really, how could you tell Cass no to food when she lit up to eating it like she did?  Besides, having something not as sweet as chocolate ice cream was probably good?  Not that it mattered.  Not that Cass needed someone fussing over her.  She was an adult!  And Kate wasn’t that much older than Cass either.  More along the age gap of a big sister than a mother.  

But she wasn’t supposed to be.  She was supposed to be the cool cousin that stopped by every once and a while.  It should be Bruce here.  It should be Bruce leading them.  Kate couldn’t lead a team.  She’d learned that much in the army.  On Coryana.  With Julia.  She’d learned it over and over again.  If she was leading instead of following, she fucked up. But Bruce wasn’t here.  And the kids needed someone.  And as much as Cass would be an amazing leader, she didn’t want that weight to fall on the girl.  Not if she could help it.

“Cass, you don’t need to thank me for letting you stay.  We’re family, aren’t we?” Kate said.  She gently kicked at Cass’ side, smiling at the other girl.  “I’m glad that we’ve gotten to hang out though.  We didn’t hang out enough back at home. I didn’t hang around any of you enough back at home.”

Kate was thinking, and it wasn’t 100% happy thoughts. What was she— Bruce. She had the look on her face, the look that said she wished Bruce was here. Cass knew that she made a similar face sometimes. When things went wrong, people looked to Bruce. To Batman. He had plans, and back-up plans. Contingency plans. And when there was no Batman— when there was nobody but her and Kate, it was difficult.

At the mention of family Cass met Kate’s eyes, a wide smile spreading across her face. She swallowed another huge spoonful of pistachio ice cream before shifting to smoothly avoid the kick aimed at her body. Her spoon stayed in her mouth as she quickly signed family in agreement, her smile never fading. People joined them and their mission to find justice, to find reason. She joined to find purpose, and now she also has family. Sometimes she wondered, what would have happened if David Cain had never tried to kill Commissioner Gordon. How long would she have run— how little of life she would have felt.  

It didn’t matter. She was here now. Cass leveled a look at Kate at her words, her eyes saying it all. Not your fault. They were all family, but family didn’t always have to be together all the time. Dick and Tim had been wary of her. Jean-Paul had not been, nor had Steph nor Babs. But even Bruce had had his concerns. And in Gotham, there wasn’t much time for fun— her first years had been one crisis after another. Besides— she spent a year trying to fight everyone and everything. She released Joker just to beat him. Stupid. All because of Shiva. “My fault too,” Cass continued, shrugging. “We have time now.”

“God I wish that was possible, watch if that happened somehow I’ll get pulled into the higher ups for drinking on the job.  Though at this point when am I ever not on the job?”  Charlie rolled her eyes and grabbed the coffee.  She practically lived on coffee based on how often she stayed up here in Los Angeles.  Between school work and watching over the characters in some form or another she was tired.  “You know at this point I wouldn’t put it past the magic users.  There’s so many different types here it’s crazy.”  She had some in her dorm and saw some around the city.  Charlie was always curious how they acted around each other.  “My dorm is all racters.  It’s like they assigned me there as my own personal hell.”

Evelyn nodded along as Charlie spoke— each different tv show and book had different rules for magic, and so that meant that each magic user used magic differently. It was a pain, that’s what it was. A sharp laugh escaped her, and she smirked, sipping her own latte as she did so. “Easy for you to figure out what makes them tick— just read their wikipedia pages. You’ll probably find everything you need there.” She rolled her eyes as she did so, shaking her cup. It wasn’t that she disliked racters, she just liked them most of them less than she liked actual humans. And besides— most of them were obnoxious, or had problematic behaviors that the writers defended as quirks. What the hell was quirky about stalking? “And how’s your other charges? The ones not in your dorms?” Charlie needed to vent, and Eve would be lying if she said that she wasn’t amused by the level of bullshit the Riverdale racters dragged everywhere— even if it was giving Charlie stress lines that no cream could ever hide.

Although tbh, if you reply, I’m probably still going to slide into your dms.

Hold on, did I just see ADELAIDE KANE?! No, sorry, that was actually EVELYN MILLER, but they get that a lot! They are originally from LOS ANGELES. They are 27 and have been living in Los Angeles for ALL THEIR LIFE. Here in the city of dreams, they are a/an CLERK AT THE WELCOME CENTER and when one thinks of them, they think of champagne, rose-water perfume, polite smiles, idle gazes, warm hugs. I guess you’ll never know who you’ll run into in Los Angeles!