If Love Could Win (a HBO Max Titans Jason Todd fanfiction)

Chapter 2

        Waking up in Gotham is something I'm glad I won't have to get used to ever again. I passed out from all of my crying so I guess that's one way of getting sleep. I took another shower as soon as I woke, feeling the need to just wash Gotham off of me. After dressing I had made my way down to the main floor to get some food to take back up. I received looks from everyone as I grabbed my food but I just minded my business and headed back up to my room. Turning on the TV while I eat, I listen to the news. All of a sudden a reporter says that the Joker was found dead in his cell this morning with his head bashed in. Security footage showing Batman beating the Joker's brains out with a sledgehammer and speculating this to be revenge for the Joker murdering Robin the night before.
        He was the final straw.
        Then the news goes on to talk about Bruce Wayne's public announcement about how his second adoptive son, Jason Todd, died of an illness while they were away on a trip out of the country a few days ago. With that I turn off the TV and put on my shoes, throwing my backpack on. I exit the room and head to the elevator to get to the parking lot where my bike is. I'm almost towards the lobby doors when I hear a man yell in my direction.
        "We don't need your kind here, go back to Greendale you psychotic wanna be witch!"
        The lobby goes silent, some shocked at the man's outburst, others turning their heads in shame. But then a small few started to join in, screaming at me that I'm not wanted here and how I need mental help. I decided to keep moving until one comment caught my attention.
        "Just our luck, one sick fuck died but gets replaced by other not even 24 hours later."
        I freeze in place. My mind is trying to process the words this man just hurled at me and trying to suppress the urge to snap his neck right here in front of all these people. Comments of slander being yelled at me was something I've come to accept as a part of my everyday life, however this one doesn't sit well with me and the need to teach this man a lesson has become the top thing on my "To Do List".
        "I'm going to give you a piece of insite before you keep spooling ignorant nonsense." I say, turning my body towards the man, slowly approaching while holding an icy gaze and stern look.
        "Oh so the little girl is trying to act like an adult, how cute. Look here you freak, Claw members are nothing but delusional children who think they can do whatever they want because they think they have power that's otherworldly. People like you need to be put in an asylum so you don't infect the rest of the population, so do us all a favor and go back to Greendale." the man said.
        The Claw. The Claw is a gang that resides in a place called Greendale, which is a location that's known to other places as a town of darkness and witches. To people who aren't residents of Greendale or Riverdale, the Claw is seen as a gang of kids who think they have magic and go around reeking havoc, they are seen to be no different than Riverdale's SouthSide Serpents, another famous gang that's filled with dangerous criminals.
        The Claw has only been around for a year and a half but they have already made a name for themselves along with quite a record. Aside from common knowledge, the gang is a mystery which makes it very easy for people to fabricate lies. The only people that know anything about the Claw are the members themselves and I'm proud to say that I am a member.
        "I'm not a little girl, fuck face. For a grown ass man, you're dumb as shit to run your mouth off to the member of a gang that's well known for being dangerous. I don't give two shits what you say about me because either way I wear this jacket with pride. However, you have the audacity to compare me or any Claw member to that psychotic fucking clown. Last time I checked, the Claw has never gone around killing people just for the fun of it. We aren't sick fucks who get a hard on from slaughtering the innocent, we don't think of life as a twisted game where we get the right to say who lives or dies and laughs like it's a big joke. You can call us what you want, but don't you ever say that we are the same as the Joker or any of the other batshit crazy freaks you have in Gotham." I proclaim, my voice unbothered and coming out clear as day.
        I stand only a foot away from the man, looking right into his eyes and holding my ground. The man looks away, trying to laugh off his embarrassment of being spoken down to. I then turn my attention to the woman working the front desk, who is standing still and wide eyed with her mouth hanging open.
        "You should really have better control over your guests, it's stuff like this that gets you bad ratings." I sneer, pivoting on my heels and putting my hands in my jacket pockets as I walk out the front entrance, showing off the Claw member trademark on the back of my jacket.
        Heading to the underground lot, I walk to where I parked my bike and look around to see if I'm alone. Once I confirm it, I move my hand over the spot and close my eyes only for my bike to once again be visible. I take off my jacket, deciding that I should keep a low profile so I don't draw attention to myself like I did in the hotel lobby. I throw on my helmet and mount my bike, revving the engine. I should head to a clothing store and buy a jacket for my time here. I speed out of the lot and into the streets, looking for a store that will fit my needs. It doesn't take me long to find one, so I park on the side of the street and make my way inside.
        I immediately start searching the racks as I enter, knowing exactly what I need. My eyes land on a black leather jacket with a gray hood and pick it up, not even checking the price as I walk towards the cash register. The worker scans it and I pay with my card before they can tell me the price. They remove the security tag and the normal tag upon my request as I tell them I won't need a bag. I put it on as I walk out of the store and get back on the street, the next stop being a coffee shop or convenience store.
        I find a 7-eleven and pull over, stepping inside the sliding doors. I usher to the back where the refrigerators are and grab a water, then steer back to the front to check out. I pick up a pack of mint gum as well, placing it on the counter as the worker scans the water. I hand him a ten dollar bill and receive seven forty back which I take two dollars of as well as the change and drop into the tip jar. As I exit the store, I bump into someone as I'm putting my items in my backpack but keep walking as apologizes don't exist in this city. However, this man apparently wanted an excuse to be angry and take it out on someone .
        "Hey bitch! It's rude to walk away without apologizing when you walk into someone!"
        I say nothing and keep walking, not allowing this man to make me his punching bag. He continues to scream at me and demands me to stop, but I ignore him. Then I feel someone grip my wrist and pull me hard backwards, forcing me to turn around. I gaze up at the man blankly as he tightens his hold on me.
        "I was talking to you, you little shit!" he screams in my face.
        "Your point?" I respond flatly.
        "Why you disrespecting little brat!"
        He raises his hand and forms it into a fist while his other hand releases my wrist only to grip my shirt and pull me closer. Before he can hit me, someone grabs his arm and yanks him away from me, forcing him to let go of my shirt.
        "Don't even think about it." a guy says, releasing the man's arm and pushing him farther back as he moves to stand in front of me.
        "Stay the fuck out of it!" the man screams, stepping closer.
        "Step away from the girl right now." the guy calmly says as he takes out a police department badge.
        As the man sees the badge, he grits his teeth and storms away in a huff. The guy puts it away and turns to me.
        "Are you okay?" he asks, peering down at me.
        I nod blankly and thank him, turning around and trekking towards my motorcycle before he can reply.
        "Hey kid! Wait!"
        I hear him jog up to me and place a hand on my shoulder to gently stop me.
        "Can I help you?" I ask with no emotion.
        "You have to be more careful. Are you sure you are alright?"
        "Yes, now if you'll excuse me."
        I try to walk away but he stops me again and I start to become annoyed.
        "Please leave me alone." I say in a clipped tone.
        "I'm sorry, my name is Detective Grayson. I just want to make sure he doesn't come back."
        Dick Grayson. Bruce Wayne's first adopted son and the original Robin.
        And Jason's "older brother".
        I feel my heart clench in pain. On the outside I remain indifferent, but on the inside I'm screaming as my anger builds. All of it towards this man before me, one of the people who hurt the person I love and made him feel worthless. I try to calm my breathing so I don't attack him and clench my fits, digging my nails into my skin.
        "I don't need your help now, leave me alone." I snap a little, pushing past him and getting on my motorcycle.
        "Hold on a sec-"
        I zoom away before he can finish, my rage about to implode. Zipping through the streets is like taking a trip down memory lane, forcing you to relive the worst parts of your life. I find myself in front of the high school Jason would find shelter in, watching the kids perform plays from the theater roof. He took me with him a couple of times and I loved every second of it, not watching the plays, watching him. His eyes would light up in wonder and his smile wide as he watched. Seeing him become fascinated in Shakespeare warmed my heart and hearing him recite the lines word for word by memory only made me love him more.
        I find myself sneaking in the way I did with him back then only to be standing on the special effects railing. I sit down with my knees to my chest as I look down at the stage that apparently appears to haven't been used in years, a sheet of dust laid atop it. I feel tears run down my face as I continue to gaze at this now abandoned theater only to think about the way this place represents how those people abandoned Jason. I remain unmoving for hours just letting the tears continue to silently fall, reminiscing in my memories of him.