I'm about the last person you'd expect to end up in Gotham. One minute I'm chillin' at a roadhouse, minding my own business, then the universe says "YEET". Also, I was dead. And blond. I was kind of... perfect. I was like looking in a mirror. I have...
Come on. I've been stabbed. I've been shot. I've faced Zoom. I've been in worse pain from takedowns, blocks, and joint locks Bruce has put me in. I've been bucked off a horse, for fuck's sake. Multiple times! People have been taken to hospital for that. People have died from that! I've been shot. Not to mention this fandom fiasco, I fumbled my way through a whole suicide mission, dammit! I've been submerged in a damn Lazarus Pit!
I can face this.
It's just a door.
And behind it... probable rejection.
Maybe it's that.
Maybe it's Maybelline.
I knock, but the great mahogany door stays silent and so does everything behind it. After a few minutes of this, I push it open and let myself in. It's deserted. The living room is empty, the TV on but no one on the couch. Rooms: vacant. I linger in Jason's. Batcave: nothing. It's too early for patrol. Where are they?
I head out to the back yard, checking the gardens, and even the barn where Damian keeps all his animals. Then I notice where the grass has been flattened recently and I follow it.
Even before I get to the Wayne family cemetery, I hear a Bruce making an announcement. When I realise what he is saying, I stop dead in my tracks.
"-assume she is dead," Bruce says. "After so long a silence, it is unlikely that Gita is alive."
I creep up behind them. Nobody notices me. Everyone but the person I want to see most is there, facing forward, watching as a casket is lowered into the grown. I'm a little offended, it's only been a month.
Dick doesn't even notice when I stand behind him.
I look into the hole. "This woman knew what she wanted: a well sorted drawer for her socks where no one would mess, and a nice carton of choccy milk from time to time. Her arrogant ambition has finally been punished."
Six head snap towards me. Dick, the closest to me looks terrible. His eyes are puffy from crying. The next instant, he pulls me into a hug that nearly cracked my ribs. His arms loosen and I lean into him.
He pulls away and cups my face. "Asshole. I - we thought you were dead. You look sick - are you okay?"
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Damian interrupts, shoving Dick aside. He punches me in the uterus. I drop to my knees, and he punches me again. I let him, let him get his anger out before pulling him to me, pressing his head to my chest and running my fingers through his hair. He's gotten taller in the last month. Is this what it feels like to watch your kids grow up?
"I'm sorry," I say. "I got... lost."
"LOST?" he yells. "A month, Kelly! Where in the world-" He grips the front of my plaid.
"Damian," Bruce says, picking up his son by the scruff of his shirt, as easily as if he were a kitten and places him on the grass away from me.
"Hello, Bruce."
Behind Bruce, Tim wipes his face on his sleeve and tries look away. But I get to my feet and hold out my arms, to which Tim sheepishly shuffles over and I wrap my arms around him. "I thought you were gone."
"I'm sorry I was gone so long." I feel my lungs contract. I don't know how I'm ever going to explain myself.
I hug Alfred and Duke pats me on the shoulder. "Bluey."
"Gita," Bruce says, "where've you been? We were worried."
I glance at the grave. "I don't want to talk about it," I say, I'm sure he'll find out himself soon enough. "Where's Jason?"
They all glance at each other and I'm suddenly very worried.
"Where's Jason?" I repeat. "What's happened? Is he okay?"
"Blue," Dick says. "He's killing again."
Meme of the day
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