(Edited with Grammarly on 6/11/2026)
Barton lived in a pretty nice neighborhood, but really, anything was probably better than the absolute dead zone Albert decided to call his own. While it didn't quite catch the suburban feel that he got from Angeline's place, it was pretty close. From the moment he took a step into this part of town, farther away from the normal and constant chaos of downtown, the buildings took on a somewhat better quality. There were still some apartments, but they didn't possess that rundown look, instantly marking them well outside his budget.
And from the distinct lack of that sour odor and heavy smog that seemed to permeate the city, this area actually seemed to receive routine love from the city's elusive garbage men. And when he said elusive, he truly meant that the amount of garbage trucks he's actually seen around town could literally be counted on one hand with fingers to spare.
'What am I complaining about?' His mind went back to that night, a flash of bloodied corpses, rivers of blood mixing with torrential downpour to almost completely clog the sewer drains. And just as quickly, that image quickly fluttered away in but a blink. 'I should just be happy they actually did some actual clean up.'
Pushing aside his jealousy, he continued on his trek. Trying to appear casual with a clear goal in mind, lest he somehow attract the ire of some overly concerned or power-tripping neighborhood watch that might be wandering the streets this early in the morning. A pretty tough ask, given how surprisingly out of the way this place was. Other than the main road further East, there really wasn't much of note or interest nearby. No shops or diners, or even barbers, from what his map told him. It just seemed to be a residential street no one would have any reason to wander through if they didn't already live there.
With that in mind, it was why he'd done away with his normal, slightly ratty look. Actually going through the effort to iron his clothes for once. A poor job, maybe he used a bit too much starch, from how stiff one of his sleeves was. Combine that with the freshly pressed khakis and finely combed hair, he didn't actually scream 'poor' or 'outsider' walking around here. It might've brought some issues on his way, as that usual invisibility he normally received had been peeled back moderately.
And not in a good way either.
People who normally wouldn't have given him the time of day, as they were on their way to work, sent him a mix of looks. Disdain from some, but mostly, an odd acceptance. No...that would be far, far too kind for a place as dreary as Gotham. It was more akin to an acknowledgment. As if before, he hadn't even been considered an actual person. And really, how could he blame them?
Outside of his disguises, he looked like a malnourished homeless kid who rummaged around in dumpsters for all his meals and clothes. It was a constant, poignant reminder of exactly how badly this city had failed them all. That there were people worse off than them out there, in a way that looking at a starving child on a television ad couldn't.
And all he needed to do was walk around with a ratty hat begging for spare change to complete the image.
It made people uneasy, and making someone who was fueled on nothing but coffee and pure spite, uneasy was never going to be a good idea.
"Good morning!"
Albert smiled brightly, waving as he passed an older man sitting in an old rocking chair. Those bushy brows made his already small eyes appear nearly invisible, but it did nothing to hide the vigilant look in them. Like he knew the teen was up to no good, so with that in mind, it was better not to allow any paranoid thoughts to fly between those cauliflower ears.
"Morning." The old man nodded with a lot less enthusiasm, lips turning down into a neutral frown. "Before you waste your breath, I've already heard the good word. Already been baptized and go to church every Sunday."
"Ah!" He looked down at himself; maybe he should've added a bit more color to his attire. But maybe this wasn't an entirely bad thing, though? Surely, he could hop into most stores and pick up a Bible somewhere...Maybe carry around a few pamphlets from a local church? That way, he could get all the way up to people's doors without really garnering much suspicion. But it felt like he'd only garner more annoyance going that way. "Well, uh, good for you? I'm not here to give you a spiel or anything. Just, uh, walking? It's a pretty nice day out for once."
"Uh huh." The man simply continued rocking, not looking even the least bit convinced. "Good, keep it that way."
Taking the clear dismissal for what it was, the teen continued on his way. He felt a pair of eyes barrel hard in the space between his shoulder blades.
'It looks like I'll need to be quick about this.'
This was exactly what he didn't need: a nosy neighbor who knew how to sniff out a sleuth like him. So, slowing down his pace, a few more things caught his attention. First of all, the woman was clearly looking at him through her window, a few houses up and across the street. Not even trying to hide the fact that the blinds seem to either be missing or pulled up. Instantly bringing the total number of nosy people up to three. Secondly, his eyes very momentarily locked with a pair of uneasy and maybe a bit surprised beady black eyes.
Isaac Barton appeared a lot more put together this morning than from their talk a day ago. His unkempt beard, a previously patchy thing, was now more styled. He still wore a simple button-up dress shirt, but at least all the buttons were properly in place. But most importantly, his thinning hair no longer looked as if he'd been running his hand through it multiple times a day.
Maybe he realized he'd been too laser-focused and jerkily hopped into his relatively new car. Bright red in color and raised high above the street. Its curved top bleeds into a near oval shape, with the bumper all the way to the hood. Like a half circle. A buggy, maybe an older model, but it still did nothing to hide the fact that it probably belonged with an overly tall clown. So much so that it was a genuine surprise when it didn't honk or anything as it pulled out of the driveway. Instead, a plume of black smoke spat out from an overly loud engine, clanking metal that should've brought some levels of concern.
Backing up and turning, the two locked gazes one last time before the clown car petered on past. Leaving Albert some time to really focus back in. The house itself had one story in a kind of ranch-style architecture. With brickwork that looked as if it had been given some actual effort for once, painted over with a layer of subdued blue. From his position, a small porch led out into a rather sad backyard surrounded by a rusted chain-link fence. Not possessing enough room to do much of anything. Maybe run around in a circle? Set up an inflatable pool to just soak their feet?
But it didn't really matter how lacking their backyard might've been; they actually had a back door, which would make his life so, so much easier in the future. Such a thing would have to wait until well after nightfall, of course, the same chain link fence really didn't provide much privacy or cover for what he had in mind.
Suddenly, in one of the windows, he saw movement. Fingers curling around some heavy curtains, and without a second of hesitation, he carefully turned his head somewhere else. Far enough that it wouldn't be obvious that he was scoping the place out while also trying to keep the person in view at the corner of his eye.
The figure was short from what he could tell, perhaps a bit feminine in shape, but it was honestly impossible to tell without completely blowing his cover. He could feel a gaze settle on him, beyond just the nosy neighbor from across the way with her binoculars. But after only a few seconds, it soon left him, and instead their heads seemed to snap back behind him.
Maybe watching the bright red buggy trudge along?
Whatever the case, they only stayed long enough until he couldn't hear the worrying engine before disappearing deeper into the house. And after that, all was quiet. Leaving him to cross their driveway, taking note of the lack of transportation, he had no choice but to continue forward, else he'd draw more attention to himself.
Humming quietly, he fell back into himself.
'From what Barton told me, she usually returns home well after he gets off work. And if I were to get into the mindset of a cheater...Then I certainly wouldn't be brazen enough to allow my affair anywhere near my home. Too many chances for mistakes or for clues to 'conveniently' be left around by a particularly pushy and jealous lover. So it's safe to say that she, too, would follow the same patterns...'
'Or would she? What if she's no longer trying to hide it? Or maybe she'd grown arrogant, self-assured, or lax? No... no, that wouldn't work. From the way those two neighbors keep an eye out, they for sure would've been hopping up and down if they saw a man pull into the driveway after Barton goes to work...And at least that old man would've tipped him off to that fact. So, it's safe to say it's almost likely that she doesn't actually have the affair at their home...And it's likely that she most likely isn't being picked up by anyone, as that too would draw some suspicion.' This wasn't the era where he could get a ride to anywhere in the city with but a few taps on his phone, so having strange cars in their drive would surely draw some suspicion. So with that said, it left a handful of different scenarios. 'She either walks, meaning their perfect spot is somewhere nearby, which would be pretty risky already. Who knows who would accidentally stumble into their rendezvous and just expose the secret to the whole neighborhood? No, it would have to be somewhere far enough where no one would know her, but also inexpensive enough to afford going almost every day…A bus, maybe?'
It would fit and could also explain why she often got home so late to begin with. Maybe the number of buses at night decreases and forces her to take a much longer route to get home? Simple conjecture for now...who knows? Maybe she rides a bike instead?
'And get hit by the first person not looking where they're going?'
There had to be a pretty good reason why he didn't see too many bicycles outside of the park, and he suspected it was due to how insane some of the drivers were here. People in big cities were already in a hurry to get to where they needed to go and would often not tolerate even the smallest obstacle in that pursuit. Short tempers and a clear disdain or apathy for their fellow citizens often lead to near accidents, road rage, and an overall bad experience for everyone involved.
So no, probably not a bicycle.
Passing yet another house, he turned suddenly. Following the sidewalk to take him clear out of sight from those binoculars. Ducking low and using some bushes as a cover, he dipped his head low. Reaching into his pocket, he unfurled that same heavily marked and labeled map. And beneath all the chaos, he spotted a small legend at the bottom. Blue lines signifying bus lines and routes.
Locating himself somewhere in that urban jungle, his finger traced along a lone path. A block or two north of where he was, there should be a bus stop. From which he could loiter around without even a glance, until he saw which one she got on before following her.
Nodding his head, he turned suddenly once more. Crossing the street and cutting between two houses.
***
She let out a steady breath as she stepped outside of her home, feet dragging along like they'd been dipped in glue or like chains wrapped her ankles, and something from within the house was dragging her back inside. Back to her cold bed, back to that quiet and lonely room...back to the dark.
Despite just wanting to turn back now, ignore those calls and texts, and just put this all behind her...she knew it would do nothing but escalate things. This house, these four walls, and this door were the last bastion of her boundaries that hadn't been crossed. The only semblance of control she'd been able to entrench her stance in firmly.
She didn't even want to think of having, even this, snatched away from her just because of a moment of hesitation on her side.
Malaya pushed back a loose strand of dark brown hair, tucking it back under a black scarf, shuffling her old backpack into place. Tools jumbling around clearly with the sound of plastic and metal.
She could do this. She could do this. She...she needed to do this.
And before those indecisive thoughts could come sweeping back in, she quickly locked the door on her way out and turned away from her bastion. Instantly feeling sick to her stomach as she took that first step, but that's how it always went. As just in a few more, that guilt or shame that curdled in her guts didn't exactly fade, but more got flooded under a crashing wave of apathy.
With that coat of armor, it's numbingly cold, washing away everything. Even that ever-insistent need gnawing at her, its gums eating away at the semblance of her willpower.
Closing the gate behind her, she ignored the old widow across the street. Paying no mind to the very visible binoculars glaring her way. The woman was harmless, probably one of the sweetest old ladies out there. Quick to bake up some biscuits to gossip over, and normally, she was an absolute delight to be around before...all this happened. But like someone had flipped a coin, it turned out she could really turn into a nosy, bitter crone when it got cold outside. Said it made her joints ache something fierce.
Or maybe Mrs. Margaret was a lot more perceptive than those thick glasses suggested and saw her as nothing more than a...whore? Or would she use the word 'harlot' instead?
Whatever the case, Malaya couldn't muster up the courage to even look in that direction and instead dropped her gaze down to the chipped sidewalk. Silently counting the cracked and uneven bits as she trudges her way forward.
The walk was a short one, something she could blink once and appear there as if she'd teleport like one of those Metahumans she heard about in the news nowadays.
Oh, how she wished, begged, and cried for something like that. Just thinking of all the things she could do with that superpower…She would hop back to the mountains, to her home. Just sit there to enjoy the fresh, crisp air and to finally be away from all damn smog. Away from the loud honkings coming in from all sides, washing away years of drowning in cigarette smoke and vomit...But most importantly, to get away from everything.
Shaking that wistful thought away, she soon found herself coming up on a bright blue bench which had a somewhat opaque overhang. Enough to cook her alive on a hot day and terribly drench her on a rainy one. Taking one end, she sat quietly. Watching as cars zoomed past, each living their own lives. Each with their own trials and tribulations...which she would trade instantly with anyone. No matter the situation.
Anything would be better.
So caught up in her thoughts, it took her feeling a new weight join her on the bench to finally drag her out of that spiral.
Glancing over, a creeping feeling reared its ugly head. Like a viper snatching up to bite venomously onto her heart. It was an irrational feeling, that queasy feeling that threatened to force up the bread slice she'd forced herself to eat late last night.
But he smiled, which nearly sent her over the edge. A shiver ran up her spine, hair standing high on end. And it took all her self-control not to hurl right there.
It didn't make sense, she could admit that. They were just a child, looking no older than thirteen and even shorter than she was. He was no threat...and that fact didn't help in the slightest.
Instead of reciprocating, she stood and took a few distancing steps away from the kid. If he looked confused or offended, she was beyond caring right then. She was far too busy trying to calm her stomach from rebelling. With a steadying rhythm, she tried to calm that racing heart. Tried to settle the nerves so close to snapping.
And she just barely got herself under control. At least a semblance of it, she liked to believe. Right at the moment, an all too familiar sound filled her ears, and opening her eyes, she saw that same bus begin to slow to a stop.
With newfound energy, or maybe just a desire to get away from this small thing besides her, she barely waited for the door to open with that same hiss before hopping on. Instantly spotting the same middle-aged woman bus driver who barely gave her more than a disinterested grunt before turning back to the road.
Taking a nearby seat, she waited for what felt like not enough time before the doors hissed closed and the force from the accelerating vehicles slightly pushed her back into the crinkly seats.
With her head pressed against the window, she felt time slip through her fingers as the city passed her by. Each passing moment twisted in her guts, yanking on her willpower and making her already weak stomach gurgle concernedly.
Shutting her eyes, she tried to scrounge up a few tens of minutes of sleep, anything to prepare herself. And maybe she did catch some empty moments of slumber, but it didn't seem to help in the slightest. After what felt like only a single blink, that dreaded building came into view. Slowing down until they stopped at a similar bus station.
Standing, her legs felt wobbly. A flash of white crossed her vision as she clutched at the nearby seat, pulling herself forward with an unwanted bounce to her step. Taking those final steps off, she could feel it then. Feel that need claw itself back to the surface, feel it gain teeth and go from gnawing to ripping and tearing at her own mental walls.
Shuffling that backpack in place, Malaya made her way to the lone hotel standing tall above all the other buildings. Its simple brickwork and heavily tinted windows were all too familiar. Her eyes landed on a single window, and it was almost like she could already see the interior. Could smell the heavy scent of booze and cigarette smoke. Could feel HIS fingers running across her skin, and just like that, that need had won. Once again, it dragged her back into its domain. The building acting as a beckoning call to that beast within.
***
'That…' Albert didn't quite know how to feel about all this. He had expected something more. Maybe? He'd thought he needed to put all his skills to the test just to not get spotted following her for so long, but it turned out that none of that was even required. 'Was far too easy.'
It was like Malaya had been far too caught up in her own thoughts and just completely and utterly oblivious to the surrounding world. She hadn't even seemed to put together that he was outside her home some time ago. That had been a risk on his part, a way to begin communicating with her to try and get a good read on her, but the attempt had died on his lips the moment she took one look at him and quickly made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
Not really in a snobbish way, he could say that pretty confidently. In fact, she looked ready to lose her breakfast just seeing him. He would admit that such a visceral reaction had cleanly cut the air from his sails even before he could begin.
But that was probably the only time she was actively aware, as after that, he didn't even need to try hiding when he got on the bus after her. She wasn't even aware of the fact that he'd been in the seat right behind her and had wriggled her backpack open enough to get a good look at the contents. Hell, the bus driver had been more aware when she'd given him a pretty clear stink eye when he was following after his target's departure.
'Delight Hotel?'
At least it made his job extremely easy, as this seemed to be a kind of sleazy place from the outside. The heavily tinted windows and club two doors down were pretty clear indicators of the type of hotel this was. Somewhere where if he tried to enter, they would surely kick him out and tell him to come back when he'd grown some hair on his chest.
But really, he didn't even need to go inside. He'd gotten more than enough for Isaac to wash his hands clean of this mess. She'd come to this sleazy hotel around noon-ish, carrying a backpack full of condoms, some racy lingerie with a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a few other 'accessories'. Clamps. Nose hooks. A pink blindfold and even what seemed to be a ball gag.
It was clear that Malaya was cheating on Isaac. Had been for a while now if she was comfortable enough to carry around a sex bag to meet up with them.
Case closed…Right?
But Albert couldn't help but feel something deep within his chest as all these facts swirled around him. She'd been wandering around Gotham, of all places, like a zombie. It was probably fine... no, it wasn't even fine to do that during the day, but at night? Yeah, walking away now would be risking the worst.
'I can at least make sure she gets home safely.'
And so, with his bleeding heart, he picked a spot not too far away from the hotel entrance way before settling in to get comfortable.