I felt like shit, my chest aching, my head throbbing, and my mouth felt unnaturally dry, but as I gaze up at this unfamiliar ceiling, I let out a laugh.
It was a wheezing laugh that was a mix of hysterical and so genuine that it would draw others to join in. Tears pooled out of my eyes as glee and mirth danced. The reflection of this strange ceiling is the only thing occupying them.
This ceiling was strange and foreign, but it was Mine. This bed was Mine. This apartment was Mine. Not a shared space that I might lose at the drop of a hat. Not a den of sin that might have me spirited away in the middle of the night. Not the streets of Gotham that would end with me with a slit throat.But a haven that I paid for, a place that only I could occupy.
Knowing that was exhilarating. I knew this place was Mine when I rented it yesterday, but waking up in this bed made that fact so much more real to me now. It was like ordering an item online, but the thing was not really real until you had it in your hands.
If the price for having this place was this blooming pain and Phill being my enemy, then that price was well worth it. My moment of joy was cut short at that, and I felt my mirth bleed out of me.
That price I paid was not just that. I knew that. I was thriving not because of this pain in my chest but because I took the resources I needed to thrive. I was a Thief, Arsonist, maybe even a Killer if my disregard for Phill counted.
To get all of this, I became just like anyone else in this city. I could argue with myself over it being necessary, or that now that I had starting funds, I no longer needed to do those things, but that would be a lie.
If I needed to, I would do my actions over and over again with a conviction that might as well be steel. Those titles were not labels; they were aspects of who I was now, and that was not something so easy to change.
It was a bitter thought but a true one, there was no point in avoiding it.
I could not afford to wait around all day in bed, lamenting or celebrating my choices. So out of bed I went, already starting my morning ritual. I had places to be, school to attend, people to see, and most importantly, a girl to spew sweet words to.
[Barbara Gordon (Available For Confession)]
[Reward for Acceptance: Program Tinker 3.]
[Consolation for Failure: God Speed Impulse.]
I felt my toothbrush clatter out of my hands as I got sight of the rewards for today. I knew how valuable Tinker abilities were after my outing with Gadget Tinker, but the one that caught my eye today was the consolation prize.
Again, I had no idea what that prize was and I had no way of knowing until I got my hands on it, but with a name like that, it had to be something special, right? I felt a buzz of excitement that woke me up far better than the water still dripping from my face.
I knew that buzz was not going to leave me all day. This ability might as well be mine already. Judging from my current relationship with Barbara, I did not even have to worry about her accepting my confession. So there was no need to plot and scheme to confess in a way to guarantee failure while appearing endearing enough to her to keep a friendly relationship.
All I had to do later was say some more sweet words, and this new ability will be mine. My greed for more all but consumed me, but that all feeling of sheer want was stemmed by thoughts of Barbara. I was going to toy with her feelings over and over again to get what I wanted.
That excitement no longer felt so good with that thought running in my mind. I let out a sigh and got back to brushing my teeth, winching slightly as even opening my mouth felt a little painful.
Eventually, I would feel less conflicted about using Barbara as I was….at least I hoped that would be the case. I would feel so much easier if she were like those lost puppies following Phill, just another face in Gotham, trying to claw their way to the top.
Instead of some pretty gold digger, I was stuck confessing to a girl that I felt bad about manipulating. I would still do it, there was not a shred of doubt about that, but I did not enjoy having to. I was really hoping that my System would target someone else, even if that hope did not really amount to much.
If the Systems criteria were really as I expected, then I would just be stuck with another girl with far too much kindness to be dealing with my bullshit.
I let those thoughts run through my mind as I mechanically got dressed and headed out towards the Academy. Idley taking one of the many taxis running through this city.
Ironically, the driver was the same one who drove me before. Thankfully, he did not recognize me. The clean-cut version of myself really was a far cry from the ratty covered form from before.
My gaze looked over the streets from the window as I was driven over. Streets filled with idle trash, worn and tagged walls, gothic architecture mixed with industrial shithole apartments, a city screaming wealth and desperation in a mix so vivid it might as well be a painting.
Anyone who entered this city flipped that coin, either getting everything they wished with blinding lights and luxury or losing everything and succumbing to the madness brimming beneath the surface.
It seemed fair to most people. A coin toss is supposed to be 50/50 after all but that coin was as crooked as the city itself. Only a handful of people would find what they wanted in this place.
I knew that it was not just luck that made you survive this city. The difference between my life and the life I could live now was clear on that. I learned the lesson so many dreamers never did in this city.
If you wanted to thrive, you needed to rig that coin toss with all you had, even if those methods were vile and cold.
I gripped the taxi's door handle tightly and left the car when we arrived. It was the start of the day but sunlight as always, remained elusive in this city. This city seemed cursed to have perpetual cloud coverage.
The campus was alive with activity, daily chatter, and students rolling about. There was a hush of excitement in the air as the news about the fire traveled around. Usually, a fire would be ignored with practiced ease, but having the incident so close to their lives had students spreading the tale with lightning speed.
I could feel the gaze of the crowd settle on me. I ignored it with more ease than I expected. Maybe I was used to the sudden scrutiny because of Barbara, or maybe the weight of worry being gone had me with a sudden burst of confidence. Whatever the case was, I no longer felt overexposed with hundreds of gazes on me.
I heard snickers and whispers as I passed by. The tale of Phill's disagreement with my face was spun with all the power a crowd of teenage plebeians could spin. I could very well see I was the butt of the joke here. Phill may not be liked by a lot of people, but he had connections and I had nothing. So any tale involving the two of us was bound to end up skewed.
It was expected. I lived my life by trying to avoid any and all attention. Sure, my grand confession put me on the radar, but no one really knew me all that well.
I ignored it; what they "knew" about me was not exactly high on my priority list. Still, there was one voice that I could not ignore in this crowd of noise.
"Hey, Moore!" Barbara shouted out, her voice hard to read from her shout, but it sounded like she was not angry, at least. I spun and locked onto her form quickly, trying to get a read on Barbara before I decided on how to handle this situation.
There was a slight pant to the girl as if she had just run, but her recovery was almost already done. Her eyes locked onto mine, and her gaze held that concern that was becoming achingly familiar.
So she called out to me because she was worried, not because she heard the rumors and decided to take a one-man crusade against me. I felt odd about that sort of trust; she barely knew me, but she was almost certain that the tale she heard was wrong.
I expected a situation like this from her, but seeing the truth of the matter still stirred a tightness in my chest. She was right to assume that the rumors were wrong, but her trust was ultimately wasted. The truth was far more brutal after all.
"Good, I caught you… So… I heard…" Barbara spoke out, looking slightly away from me. It was clear she was awkwardly trying to hold a conversation she realized she was not prepared to have. I almost laughed out loud.
I went to respond to help her break out of her funk, but she looked back at me and seemed to firm her resolve.
"I heard about the fire. Are you all right?" she asked with conviction that threw me off. Beyond the sudden resolve, her words hit me like a brick.
Not a speck of doubt or suspicion, her trust in me was almost physically harming me. I winced at that, and the concern and worry in her eyes intensified as she looked me over.
"I won't say everything is good, but I'm fine, so no need to worry your pretty little head," I spoke out quickly, the words feeling hollow as I tried to put some distance mentally between us, a front away from how I was really feeling.
A familiar smirk, a snarky glint in my eye, sweet words masking intent, a mask used to sweep her off her feet, but everything about it felt horribly wrong in this moment, and judging from the growing concern in her eyes, she could see that.
She did not see the truth of my feelings, but she could see I was off.
"Aster… something clearly is bugging you. Look, I know that you want to put up a strong front right now, but if you need help, you can ask," she spoke out with quiet conviction. Her gaze locked onto mine with a focus that was nearly blinding.
For once, I was the one looking away. I felt like a deer in headlights with a gaze like this. I was truly and utterly thrown for a loop, and I was not handling it well.
"Thanks, Barbara… I'm not fine. My ribs are throbbing, and if there is a part of me not aching right now, then it's the lucky few. I'm not fine, but the situation is over, and I'm getting better." I spoke out a truth, a truth that would at least buy me some time away from this girl's earnest feelings.
Hopefully, my physical wounds and my sudden open vulnerability would keep her away from the true wound that was killing me.
Her gaze looked me over as if trying to weigh the truth of my words, not in a judging way, but trying to see if I was hiding more from her.
"I can't do much about the ribs as I'm fresh out of miracle cures, but I…" She spoke out with joking snark, but that faded as she hesitated again. Her gaze locked onto mine again, judging every interaction between the two of us, trying to find a hint of something only she could see.
Her resolve firmed as that weighted gaze left.
"If you need a place to crash for now, I'll talk to my dad about hosting you for a bit. You might have to deal with him interrogating you, and you might end up handcuffed to a radiator, but it's better than the streets at night." She spoke out with light snark, her gaze not meeting mine as she tried to joke over her offer, to mask how she was really feeling right now.
That wound felt like it was fatal in this moment.
She trusted me. She chose to put her faith in me. Her offer might be put in a joking way, but it was as serious as steel. Letting someone into your home in Gotham was… it was big. Despite our strange relationship, despite the gap between us, despite everything she knew to be true, she would let a strange boy into her home for the sake of her bleeding heart.
The cold rationality that I had been wearing cracked.
"You really are something special," I spoke out softly, my gaze warm, my guard dropped, my heart leading. "I really do like you." The words left me before I could even think.
Barbara looked like she was the one struck by a truck. She was used to my sweet words, but in this moment, I let my heart lead for the first time. It was that sight that managed to break the spell she held over me.
The reality of who I was, what I was really after, and the things I was willing to do slammed into me. That haze of warmth slipped, and a ping rang in my mind from the system.
Before she could react, I fled with wide eyes and a heart beating far too strongly.
What was I doing!?