⁽ ᶜᵃᵍᵉᵈ ⁾ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

His thoughts are silent. But he hears the rain. He smells the soaked unearthed soil. And he thinks he feels the warmth trickle down his cheeks. Memories are funny like that. Intricate time machines with no sense and no logic.

In his next breath, he's where he was.

With this girl whose eyes are as deadly as her fists.

     [ ₁ ] If she let it.

Another breath escapes him. More heavier than the last. A weariness chilling his spine with the ever familiar. Gotham seems to always be the grounds for lost children with violence in their hearts. She calls to them like a mother that aches for a child.

" To what end, child? " But the question is softer now. It's as if his voice modulator had taken a life of its own and cut itself off for BRUCE WAYNE's voice to speak for him. An earnest question in the midst of it all. " Tell me and I'll help you. "

Lightning strikes and a bargain is offered. A promise struck before she even bites at the bait.

She was in GOTHAM now.

THE BATMAN will keep her safe.

the means justify the end, the mantra that drove claws to seek it's pound of flesh. her own redemption sullied in its quest for retribution; a killer seeking justice is just another killer. not anymore deserving of a bated breath than her freshest kill. does it end with culling the heard or putting down the rabid animal?

the swell of tension has rescinded; making it easier for breathe in the cool dusk air. allowing the chill of midnight breeze to cool tempered blood. bridges of shoulders falling slump, numbness evaporating as the consequence of her actions wash over in a tsunami of exhaustion. adrenaline exhausted inviting mortal limitations. surrendering the lure that has been cast, coaxing boots to inch closer to towards the bat. the open invitation to share in her burdens, to release the weight of her torment. to his own conviction, to what end? when does her pain no longer becomes hers.

THE BAT remains unmoved. A pillar of shadow and smoking gaze. She demands something of him. An unspoken challenge that neither yield. And he can see it in her eyes the why. It’s as apparent as her rage. 

It’s an all too familiar look. He’s seen it in strangers before her. In children. 

          [ ₁ ] In a boy from the circus.           [ ₂ ] A boy from the streets.           [ ₃ ] He’s seen it in the mirror staring back at him. 

And he knows she believes it. That sense of righteousness. That determination that tastes like       [ ₄ ] Who is this kid? 

He turns slowly ; only catching her in his peripheral. Her shape as absolute as her. And he voices a question he already knows the answer to. 

“ Are you the only one they’ve hurt? “ 

The answer is never yes. 

dread fills boots with lead to weigh next steps, soft grind of gravel under soles falling silent in her stillness. dared inquiry finds the hidden wound, delivering a frigid shock to her bones. paralyzing & agonizing. it was a silent torment; weapons don't weep.

silence & stillness; a refuge between unmastered emotions. spine straightens, shoulders rigid under tension. conviction befallen into a hollow strength. whispered like some unholy revelation. life evaporated from glazed over irises. ❝ my father, [ . . . ] my mother. ❞

damned if you do, damned if you don't . . . there's no perfect answer for people like them. someone will always find fault with their actions, be unhappy or think they should have done better. everyone wants to judge them, but ( most of them ) already judge themselves harsher than the world ever will. they are their own worst ENEMIES.

the same way she knows Laura won't be happy if she goes easy on her. besides, the blonde can take several good punches. it may even be fun. she's not a masochist, but she rarely finds ideal sparring partners, people who represent a CHALLENGE. & that's precisely when the claws come out, literally.

❛   maybe it's just me, but i prefer my limbs attached to my body.   ❜ ah, her humor. probably not a wise idea right now, but she cannot help herself. her feet also come to a halt, watching as the other retreats. ❛   hey, i'm all right. don't worry.   ❜ she smiles to reassure her while pondering the best course of action. frankly, she doesn't feel QUALIFIED to mentor anyone.

❛   i see. well, we can leave him out of it.   ❜ as someone who's not good at asking for help, Carol can't fault Laura's hesitation. the question is : how much is she supposed to push ? how much space should she give her ? except the younger woman continues to talk, revealing heavy & deep thoughts, which she can't help but ADMIRE. gods know she's not comfortable being so transparent, so vulnerable . . .

consequences are a familiar old companion , a cellmate [ ... ] that reared its ugly face in reminder of her failure. when punishment was delivered at the hands of the men in white coats, looking to bury a defect that dominated the genome. humanity. yet it was a prevailing resistance that defied the conditioning, fought back against a stolen life. one that laura was fighting day after day to rightfully deserve.

head bows to receive a repetitive lecture, one spoken in many forms by many of her mutant superiors. each echoing a statement that's become an ember in the darkness. you are not alone. they are the words that beckon a lost dog home.

laura is quiet, accepting the lessons in place of punishment. while storms still brewed in the pit of her stomach, rage no longer ran rampant in her veins. breath steadying, a final exhale releasing the tension held captive under her skin. those clear emerald eyes finding their way back towards familiar blues, ❝  ... thank you, Carol. ❞

for once, there's an awkward silence that begins to unsettle the mutant. not one to reciprocate a hearty speech, still digesting the tokens of wisdom just shared. that tempest swirling in her belly takes physical form, manifesting in an unsteady foot tapping. a telltale sign of uncertainty wrecking havoc in preempt of what happens next ...

despite noticing the lack of responses on the other's part, the blonde isn't deterred in the slightest. in fact, she watches the two of them interact. the Flerken being quite content eating anything given to her. it reminds her of how Lauri had spoiled her into wanting fresh fish for a bit, & how difficult it had been to get rid of such a habit.

soon enough, the Avenger throws her head back in a laugh, clutching her stomach. ❛   that's the BEST vote of confidence i've gotten all these years.   ❜ if they are still hungry after hanging out & possibly watching a movie, she could make some pancakes or waffles. ❛   i'll surprise you next time.   ❜

for now, Carol decides to move at Laura's pace. besides, it's not as if she's rushing to discuss the main topic. frankly, becoming a part of the team isn't someone anyone takes lightly. it's a  HUGE  decision since they tend to be the face of every  &  any superhero-related event, which can add a lot of pressure. it's all fun & prestige, but she knows the young woman knows that. ❛   like i said, you're welcome to stop by whenever, even if i'm not around. although in that case, the fridge may not be so well stocked.   ❜

eliciting a positive reaction reaffirms confidence, [ ... ] casting aside the seeds of doubt that will not be allowed to sprout roots. quelling the stir of omniscient voices spewing their venom in her head. the ones that coaxed the weapon to drown her humanity. here, in this space, there was no war to be fought. no monsters to slay. no need for experimental instruments of devastation. this place has become a sanctuary. one laura would be willing to defend to the bone, safeguarded from intrusion of anything that would rob her from the promise of peace.

❝  should i tell your neighbor i'm the cat sitter when i'm breaking & entering ?  ❞ an attempt at humor, allowing herself to embrace the faint formation of a smile. secretly proud of herself for that one. questioning if whether her one phone call from the precinct makes it through the static of space for a bailout. it was her recommendation, after all.

laura is certain the saga is currently burning dvr space at the mansion as illyana has commandeered movie nights. it's only a matter of time before she's subjected to another daunting movie marathon. the mutant barely survived the extended edition of the dwarfs and the one ring. it was best not to thread lightly against carol's threats.

dethroning chewie from her lap was cause for insult as the flerken gave an audible disapproval as the mutant arose. inching towards the collection of films stacked against a bookshelf, many of them in blockbuster cases. weren't those extinct? some titles deserving of a critical thought, jeepers creepers ... what a stupid name.