Fanfictions, fucking & fangirling.

The first hotel she went to was fully booked. In the second, a yanky receptionist with acne and crooked teeth didn’t even bother to answer her and lazily pointed to a sign indicating that no rooms were available. She flipped the bird to the next tenant of a shitty motel who proposed to her to share his bed. When she arrived in front of the last possibility of finally getting some rest, her toes were soaked, her heels were blistered and the battery of that damn burner phone died. The motel neon mockingly flickered “No vacancy”.

She was about to limp for a mile and resign to sleeping in the Shelby when the sound of broken glass attracted her attention. Lighting a cigarette, she slowly approached the bar and the obvious center of the fight. The bar door burst open with a sharp crack, and a body followed without grace, thrown onto the damp pavement. A blonde woman rolled once, groaned, then lay there for a moment on her back, green eyes fixed on the gray sky.

“Stay out!” a voice shouted from inside before the door slammed shut again.

The blonde slowly pushed herself up, wiping a cut at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. Her knuckles were red, swollen, still trembling with the adrenaline of the fight. Lost somewhere in the slow curl of smoke, the woman in a silky dress took a long drag, then let out a gray cloud with almost deliberate slowness. No sign of surprise, no visible judgment.

“Nice exit,” she said at last, her voice even.

“Not my worst Wednesday night." A silence settled between them. The smoker didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. She watched the injured woman like someone observing a scene they’d  witnessed a hundred times before.

“Was it worth it?” she asked.

“It felt necessary.” the other replied, grimacing.

The smoker gave a faint smile. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her purse, tapped one and held it out.

“Want one?”

The blonde hesitated, then stepped forward to take it. Her fingers were still trembling slightly. The lighter flicked open with a brief click, illuminating their tired faces for a second.

“Thanks.” They stood there side by side, not really looking at each other. The smoke rose in lazy spirals, dissolving into the damp air.

She finally seemed to evaluate the woman in front of her : long brown hair, a dress that could probably cover the next 3 months of her rent and who knows what kind of expensive things her purse could buy.

“You seem used to fighting.” the smoker said.

“Let’s just say I’m not very good at avoiding trouble.”

“Or maybe you’re looking for it.”

The injured woman let out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe.” Another silence. Not awkward, just… suspended.

The smoker stepped a little closer, unhurried. Her eyes lingered on the bruised hands, the battered face, with quiet interest.

“You can fight.” It wasn’t a question.

“Enough.” A pause. The lighter clicked again.

“I might have a job for you,” the smoker said, exhaling slowly.

The injured woman looked up, wary. “What kind of job?”

“The kind where things can go wrong. The kind where taking hits and giving them matters.”

“And what do you do in all this?” The blonde looked suspicious.

“I have money.” She exhaled smoke, dragging her tongue behind her lower teeth. “I need someone like you.”

Silence fell again, heavier this time.

“And what do you get out of it?” the injured woman finally asked.

The smoker shrugged. “A place to stay for starters. And I need someone who can protect me if things go wrong.”

The injured woman looked at her hands, then at the empty street, then at the bar door that wouldn’t open for her again tonight. She exhaled slowly.

“How much does your ‘job’ pay?”

“Enough that you won’t need to get thrown out of bars just to pass the time.” A beat. “And enough that I won’t be sleeping outside.”

Their eyes met properly this time. “Sounds like trouble,” the injured woman said.

“Obviously. But I won’t stay for long. Three days, maybe four. Depends on what needs to be fixed on my car.” The smoker crushed her cigarette under her heel, then looked up at her, still calm.

“Then I guess…” She grunted, visibly annoyed by her own decision. “Ok. Follow me.”

The smoker nodded, as if the deal was already sealed.

“I have only one bed. And it’s mine, you’ll sleep on the couch.” She then pointed an accusatory finger at the posh woman. “And you buy your own food, I’m not Walmart.”

“That’s fine for me. Still better than sleeping in my car again.”

They started walking side by side down the wet street. Two strangers bound by simple needs: one looking for protection, the other for money. And between them, a fragile promise.

“My name is Ruby by the way.”

“Emilia."

The couch felt like sleeping on a plank, the wooden armrests didn't allow her to spread her full length and it was overall very uncomfortable. But the recliner…When she finally found the strength to switch places in the middle of the first night at Emilia’s place, she knew she made a good decision. The recliner was perfect. Soft. Comfy. The velvet fabric was worn out and smooth. She had her best night of sleep in months. Maybe years? So she stayed in the recliner, her perfect safe place. Three days became four and four days became two weeks. Emilia lent her clothes that were obviously not hers, men’s army shirts and cargo pants. “He won’t ask for them back,” she said dismissively. Blink and you could miss it, but Ruby could sense something was left untold. She brushed it away, it was clear that Emilia won’t answer this kind of question. The blonde was obviously not the type of girl who confesses her secrets easily.

Unexpectedly, nothing happened during these two weeks. She was still waiting for the shitshow, it was impossible that her ex let her spread her wings without consequence. She avoided getting outside, paying Emilia to run errands for her. “You told me you paid me to protect you, I was at least expecting to break some ribs,” she told her during the tenth day when she joined her on the roof.  Though she smoked with her on the first night they met, it never happened again. 

Ruby, however, never stopped smoking. Cigarette after cigarette, she contemplated the Evergreen skyline on the rooftop like it could decode something in her life. Emilia sometimes kept her company. She could sense the questions burning her tongue. But Emilia was not good at asking so she does what she does best : giving orders.

“You have to get out of here,” she snapped after a moment of silence. 

“Whoa, already trying to get rid of me?”

Emilia's sharp gaze somehow softens. “Ugh… No. It’s just. You can’t stay sane, barricading yourself in my apartment for so long.” She eyed her scornfully from head to toes. “And I think there is an untold law for rich people that says that you can’t wear cargo shorts with luxury shoes.”

Ruby let out a long sigh and shrug. “Is my outfit really important if I don’t go out ?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You need clothes that don’t come from military surplus and you have to find a place to live.”

A sighs again. “I know.” 

Two words that carried a lot more meaning. She knows but she’s afraid. She knows but where to live? She kinda wants to stay with Emilia. How do you notify someone you want to be their friend when you are 34? She’s very well aware that she lost touch with friendship in general. You don’t have friends when you are a Gotham socialite, you have contacts, acquaintances at best. So now, wanting to bond with someone when she didn’t have real friends for 17 years felt like deep diving in a sea full of sharks. She took a deep breath, avoiding Emilia’s eyes.

“Will you come with me?”

“I can help you find a place. I’m not a complete bitch, I will not throw you on the sidewalk.”

“I think I want to stay here. In Evergreen.”

In the corner of her eyes, she can see Emilia's eyes rolling. “Of course you want to stay here. This place, Evergreen, holds something. Once you’re here, you are stuck.”

Ruby gave a faint smile. “Yeah, I guess you have to be a fool to leave Evergreen.” She let a moment pass before asking her next request.

“Will you come with me to buy new clothes ?”

“Nuh-uh. No way. I will help you move your shit. I can even assemble furniture if you need me to do it, but I won't go on a shopping spree. No way.”

Slowly, she closes the distance with Emilia, then Ruby played her last throw of the dice : an exaggerated pout and big sad eyes. 

“Please?” She joined her hands flat together in front of her chin like a mocked prayer. “Come on Em’. Pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

Emilia shoved Ruby’s head to the side. “Stop it!” She couldn’t help the laugh to escape from her lips.

“I think you should meet a friend of mine. She will gladly help you. Let me text her.” A pause. “And stop calling me Em’, I already tolerate that you call me by my first name. Some of my friends aren’t even allowed to do that.”

“So what are they calling you? ‘Hey you!’?” She chuckled. “Wait. AM I YOUR FRIEND?”

Emilia elbowed her in the ribs. “Stop shouting you weirdo. You are awfully loud for someone who is wanted by the Gotham mafia.”

She introduced her to her friend the next day. If Emilia Harcourt was at one end of a spectrum, Leota Adebayo definitely was on the other end, however somehow still on the same weird scale. Emilia was naturally ice cold while Ads was warm and cheerful. Ads is the kind of person who hugs her first, then shows her the best thrift spots in Evergreen and finally declares that you need to brunch together soon. Simple like that.

Emilia helped Ruby find a place, a nice furnished apartment in a brand new luxury secured building. She also somehow convinced the landlord to be paid in cash. They started a habit of seeing each other together, drinking beer on her balcony, listening to 2000’s songs and having light conversations. Emilia was a tomb and never mentioned the “bodyguard” arrangement to Leota. One night, they decided that it was not possible to endure Ruby’s poor cooking abilities again and they headed to a restaurant their group of friends regularly went to.

When they slid into a booth, Ads exclaimed “Tadaa, welcome to Evergreen's finest italian restaurant.” She tapped on the table with one finger. “You have to try the mozza sticks.”

“You know that mozza sticks are an insult to Italian gastronomy, right ?” Ruby said with a playful judging look. She didn’t see Emilia dismissively waving to someone behind her.

“Don’t order the zoodles then.” Ads turned to Emilia. “By the way, Chris may join us later.”

Emilia tilted her head back against the leather of the booth. “Ruby, I hope you’re ready to meet our whole gang. There will be no going back.”

Ruby was about to answer when a voice erupted from behind her. “Well, well, well. Look who’s here ! My fourth and fifth BFF !”. When she raised her head, she froze. The world narrowed violently. She straightened on her seat and wanted it to swallow her whole.

Because in front of her was Adrian Chase. Older. Taller. Shorter hair. But still unmistakenly him. The same big smile. The dimples. The two moles aligned on his left cheekbones. He was so focused on his two friends that when he finally landed his gaze on Ruby, he froze too. Then he double checked. The laughter disappeared from his face. For one terrible second, neither of them breathed. Emilia noticed immediately.

Ads, oblivious, tried an introduction “Meet our friend A…”

Ruby cut her speech. “Adrian…”

Adrian nearly dropped the menus he had in his hands.

Ads blinked. “Wait, you guys know each other?” Nobody answered. She looked between them slowly. “Okay. Weird vibe.”

Adrian finally found his voice and turned to Ads and Emilia. “If this is a joke, it’s not a very good one.”

Adrian handed out menus without looking directly at her.

Emilia crossed her arms. “Someone better explain what’s happening.”

“Nothing’s happening,” Adrian muttered.

Ads looked between them carefully. “You two dated or something?”

“No.” Adrian said immediately.

Ruby answered at the same time. “We grew up together.”

Adrian finally broke and looked at her properly. “You disappeared.” His jaw tightened. It was obvious that he wanted to shout at her. Maybe she deserved it. No, she definitely deserved it.

“Addy…”

Adrian shot her a warning look. He snapped, hissing between his teeth. “Don’t.”

Ads glanced awkwardly between them. “Okay, I’m missing context here, but what exactly happened?”

Adrian answered before Scarlett could. “She disappeared.”

Scarlett closed her eyes briefly. “We moved away.”

“And then? Your phone exploded for seventeen years?”

Silence.

Ads looked at Ruby now. “You never contacted him?”

Scarlett’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. “No.”

“Why not?”

Another silence. Then, Scarlett laughed suddenly. But there was nothing funny in it. “I don’t actually have a good reason.”

Nobody spoke. She stared at the table as she continued quietly. “At first I told myself I’d call eventually. Then too much time passed and it became awkward. Then I felt guilty.” Her voice tightened. “And after a while, I think I just became a coward.”

Adrian stared at her. Emilia frowned. “That can’t be the whole reason.”

“It is.”

“Ruby…” Adrian froze. The name had slipped out naturally from Leota. Ruby shut her eyes immediately. Too late. The entire table went still. Adrian spoke first. “…Ruby?” He let out a disbelieving laugh. Hard. Exaggerated. The nearby customers had started glancing over now.

Emilia blinked hard. “Wait, what?”

“That’s not her name.”

Then someone behind the counter yelled, “Adrian, table four needs clearing!”

Adrian began to turn on his heels where he was needed but behind his shoulder, he muttered to Ads and Emilia. “Her name is Scarlett. Don’t trust her. She’s a liar.” After a short pause. “She’s a big meanie too.”

For the next twenty minutes, Adrian avoided looking at her. He wiped tables that didn’t need wiping. Refilled ketchup bottles. Carried dishes back and forth while his mind screamed loud enough to drown out the clatter of plates.

She was here. After seventeen years. No letter. No call. No explanation. Nothing.

When they were kids, everyone assumed they would grow old side by side. Adrian and Scarlett. Scarlett and Adrian. They had been inseparable. Then, one day, she was just… gone. Adrian had waited for a message that never came. There had to be a reason. Something catastrophic. Some tragedy. Some impossible situation that justified destroying someone and never looking back. That was what he had told himself for years. Because the alternative hurt too much.

At seventeen, abandonment feels personal. At 34, apparently it still did. For a brief moment, he wonders if it was a valid excuse to kill her. Adrian felt anger rising again, hot and familiar. For years, he had imagined this moment. Sometimes she apologized. Sometimes he screamed at her. Sometimes he walked away before she could speak. But in none of those versions she returned to town using a fake name while sitting beside two people who had managed to become his friends.

When his shift was finally over, he went to the changing room, quickly changing from his stupid Fennel Fields outfit to his casual clothes. It wasn’t really important anyway, his vigilante suit was waiting for him in the Sebring trunk. He could already feel the anticipation running through his veins, tonight will be a bloodbath. He internally crossed his fingers, wishing to finally catch this so-called graffiti “artist” who defaced buildings, wagons, even shipping containers.

Determined to avoid any confrontation with Scarlett, he exited the restaurant  through the backdoor. The door wasn’t even closed behind him when he saw her. She was sitting on the metal stairs, her back to the door, smoking a cigarette.

Words escaped his mouth before he even tried to back-up inside. “Those things could kill you.” The startled noise she made was oddly satisfying.

She looked at him with an expression he couldn't decipher, then stared at her cancer stick. “It had just a tiny knife, very easy for me to disarm.” She tried a smile before flicking the cigarette. “I wanted to be alone for a moment, I didn't think that you would go out now.” She slowly rose to her feet. “I can leave if you prefer.”

Adrian finally looked at her, really looked at her. Her brown hair was longer, her curls were tamed in long silky strands that reached the middle of her back. Her golden skin was paler but it still seemed impossible to hide those freckles even under her makeup.

September 1995.

When Miss Parris took the role of kindergarten teacher in Evergreen, she thought it was a good idea to start the year by showing a movie to the kids. ‘How about a cute animated movie with dinosaurs?’ she told herself. All the kids love dinosaurs, right?

Maybe she could have watched it first before showing ‘The land before time’ to them. Because, if she knew that the little dinosaur mom died in the beginning of the movie, she would have picked something else. It was the Bambi disaster all over again.

Thankfully, the kids were easily distracted by the puppet show she improvised. Well, most of the kids, one of them remained inconsolable. Little Adrian was miserable, tears falling neverendingly on his cheeks, his glasses fogged.

Behind her back, another child even started to make fun of him, mockingly twisting his fists in front of his eyes. She was handing another tissue to Adrian when she heard a scream.

Great. Another crying kid.

She took the other little boy on her knees. Adrian wiped his face watching from his spot on the floor. 

“What happened to you?” At first, his answer was inaudible, random syllables between loud sobs. Then, after a while, he finally managed to show his arm to her. That’s why he was crying, he had a bite mark on his forearm. Still red, fresh, obviously from another kid judging by the little teeth marks. “Who did this to you?” He extended his injured arm, pointing his finger to a girl with a bowl cut and a piercing gaze.

“It wasn’t me.” She responded with a smirk.

The bitten child sneered back. “Yes it was you. You bite me.”

“Maybe. But you are mean. Meanies get stitches.”

What the hell… “We don’t bite in this classroom. Go to the corner and think about what you’ve done.” While Scarlett headed towards the corner of the room, she offered the injured kid a colored bandage to put on the already fading teeth mark.

When she came back in the room, Scarlett was not alone in the corner anymore. Adrian was in the same corner, one side of his forehead to the wall, the other side against Scarlett's forehead. They had the attitude of two kids trying to be discreet but miserably failing. She could hear mimicry of dinosaurs screeching and clashing of teeth between soft giggles.

‘Guess it’ll be a long year with these two…’ She told herself.

Adrian really liked that teacher, and his new best friend.

After a moment, he realized that he was staring at her without answering. “If you leave, you’ll just run away again?”

She looked up at him carefully. “You can yell if you want.”

He clenched his fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. It was tempting to yell. “Answer my question.”

She huffed. “I won’t run. I moved back recently.”

“How long?”

She scrunched her face and closed her eyes, braced for impact. “Almost 2 months…”

“TWO MONTHS!” Adrian felt like his eyes were ready to pop off his face. He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. “2 months and you didn’t even try to find me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “To be honest, I didn’t think you wanted to see me.” Scarlett looked at him like the words physically hurt. Maybe he wanted it to. Maybe he wanted her to hurt even half as much as he had.

His voice sharpened. “Did you forget I existed immediately or did that happen gradually?”

She slowly approached him. “Addy…” Her voice was weak. “Stop.”

“You know what the worst part was?” He asked Ruby. “I thought you were dead. I checked obituaries.”

Her face crumpled slightly. Scarlett opened her mouth, but nothing came out. He wanted to slap her face but, under the dull yellow diner lights, she didn’t look like a villain. Time made her prettier, it was infuriating. Her sequined bomber jacket was distracting. “You are dressed like Grandma Yetta.” It was childish, he knew it, but he had to say it.

She laughed, a real giggle that echoed in the night. “That’s pretty low coming from a guy who’s dressed like Carlton Banks.”

“Hey! Cousin Carlton is very distinguished. At least, I don’t look like I stormed someone's grandma's attic.”

“It’s vintage Gucci you moron.” She adjusted her jacket with pride and smirked.

He bites back. “You're confusing vintage and prehistoric.”

Her dark eyes suddenly sparkled, like something forgotten instantly came back to her memory. She folded her forearms in a grotesque imitation of a tyrannosaurus and snapped her jaws, snarling, and clacking her teeth together two times.

Adrian was taken aback for a few seconds before an explosive chuckle erupted from him, a real full laugh that made his abs contract. They were both laughing like maniacs when Harcourt and Ads joined them.  

Harcourt threw her signature stern look, arms crossed on her chest. “What the fuck is happening here… I thought you hated each other.” The moment burst like a little bubble, laughs slowly fading.

Scarlett planted herself in front of Adrian and looked at him right in the eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” All he could think is that he was taller than her. Fucking finally. “The truth is I kept putting it off because I was ashamed. And the longer I waited, the harder it became.” The honesty of it hit harder than excuses would have. “Will you forgive me somehow?”

“I can think about it if you make me breakfast falafel.” Her father always made breakfast falafel in the morning after a sleepover at her place. Sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he could still remember the taste of the piping hot chickpea balls.

Surprisingly, Ads answered before her. “Man, if you don’t want food poisoning, you better avoid her cooking.”

He let out a frustrated groan, both hands raised to his face behind his glasses, pressing his fingers to his closed eyes. “You are so useless.”

“I know. I’m the worst friend on earth.”

“You are not my friend.”

She raised her hand to shush him. “I’m not your friend. You are right. But I can play DnD if you still have my character sheet.”

Fuck yes, this was better than falafel.

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