“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.