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Third p.o.v

Marnie Budinski was many things, an addict? No. She stood true to the saying, "don't get high on your own supply." Selling weed amongst other things was how she survived.

And now?

She doesn't know what to think. She never planned to wake up on a dirty bench in a foreign city. The first thought to came to mind was that she was dreaming. A quick slap to the face was enough to determine that no, this shit was real and ow that hurts.

"Maybe it's a joke." She'd seen it in movies.

But who would joke around with one of the best dealers her small town had to offer? She couldn't keep track of the people who were hopelessly dependent on her. Getting them their fix was her job and whether it was weed, pills, or heroin, she worked hard enough for her clients to grant her protection against this kind of shit. Correction: she thought she worked hard enough to prevent this kind of shit.

"Hey, get out of here. It's past midnight. You shouldn't be out after curfew."

Marnie's thinking was put to a halt at the sight of the irritated patrolman. A quick glance to his badge made her even more confused than before. Gotham? Where the hell was Gotham city? She thought it was just a fictional Batman thing.

Maybe the one in the comics was named after a real place? It's not like she knew every city in america.

"Yeah, I'm going." She stood up from the bench and gave another cursory glance to her surroundings.

The officer crossed his arms, annoyed that she wasn't leaving immediately.

She raised a brown at his impatience but didn't push it. City cops always seemed to have a stick up their ass and it was a miracle that he didn't notice the skunky smell that radiated from her.

That would have only made matters worse.

"Could you point me in the direction of a hotel?" She gave him a sheepish grin.

The officers face soured at the thought of putting effort into his job like any city cops would, "go that way, turn left, and keep straight until you see a sign that says Gotham Stowaway."

Marnie nodded her head before walking in the direction of the hotel.

"What's that smell?"

Marnie upped the pace to a nice jog.

---

There were no complications getting a room at the Gotham Stowaway. The receptionist seemed all to used to cash being covered in 'pixie dust' and simply gave Marnie a key. Didn't ask for a name or ID, just a bored, "how long are you staying?"

Of course she'd only be there for a night or two, three being the most and said as much. She had things to do and not enough time to do it nowadays.

Woe was the life of a drug dealer.

She tried to relax on the way up the elevator but found the feat near impossible.

Her phone was acting a little buggy and she had to ignore the constant glitch effect that entailed with every tap. A quick GPS search told her where she was.

Gotham, Connecticut?

How did she get all the way to Connecticut? She lives in Wisconsin. That's over a thousand mile distance.

What the hell was going on?

She made it to her room and promptly fell face first into the queen sized bed. She could figure everything out tomorrow.

Life of a Drug Dealing Wizard (Young Justice SI)Where stories live. Discover now