Chapter Text
In the morning Terry woke to a text from Mr. Wayne that read ‘If Ten is willing to testify against them then it’s a very real possibility, yes.’ that prompted them to go back and read their own text to double check that, yup, nowhere in there had they mentioned names–alias or otherwise. Simply a vague message about a friend who didn’t want to see their criminal parents anymore.
‘how??’ they texted back, too tired for once to obsess over how their tone might come across.
Seven minutes later a preview on their lockscreen had him saying ‘Looks like you had an eventful night,’ with a notification that he’d attached a photo. When they opened it up there was a screenshot from a news article where police assured the public that only one person had been harmed in the Royal Flush Gang’s latest hit, but it hadn’t been serious.
‘theyy don’t evn saymy name??’
‘The EMT records do.’
‘dsn’t explain ur og leap’
‘You seem to attract trouble.’
‘so u wer reachign’
‘I was deducing.’
‘:///////////////////////////////////////////////’
‘///’
‘/’
‘/’
‘Do those mean something?’ The ping from the text startled them into opening their eyes again. When had they closed them? Reading up prompted them to quietly curse. They’d drifted off while holding the slash key.
‘no’
‘tired sry’
‘I would expect so. Speaking of which, you shouldn’t be looking at screens much.’
‘,,,,,,,,,,mby’
‘,but u still havnt asnwered ,y Q’
‘The Royal Flush Gang have been causing trouble longer than you’ve been alive. No charges have ever held, though. Ten could change that.’
‘her name is Melanie’
‘Does she seem willing to speak against them in court?’
Was that a dismissal? Intentional or not it pissed them off, but they still sent a neutral, ‘idk, ill ask’ in reply before tossing their phone somewhere else on the bed. The short conversation had stung their eyes from the beginning, and now they were just not in the mood.
Light was cascading into their bedroom. It wasn’t much, lower levs didn’t get very bright even at noon, but it was still enough to make them regret forgetting to close their blinds when they’d been dropped off (figuratively, this time) by Mel and Dana last night. Eomma had been the one to suggest they stay home from school for a couple of days, and they were hardly one to turn down an excused absence, so they’d gotten to sleep in.
The apartment was quiet when they padded into the kitchen–in the sense that all that cloud be heard was the thrum of the city through the thin walls, but they only noticed that because their ears were hypersensitive today. There was rice, soup and orange juice waiting at their spot at the table, a pair of painkillers and sunglasses set beside them. Matt’s place had a few stray grains and juice patches left. They made sure to wipe it up as they tidied their own things, then they came back and wiped the whole table. When they finished they noticed more mess on the counter. They were still holding the rag and cleaner, so, with nothing else to do and a familiar restlessness prickling under their skin, they got to work.
Watching streams was a no-go, and none of their friends were free to call at this hour, so they threw on some music to try and stifle the stifling silence while they cleaned. The things none of them had time for on the weekdays or energy for on the weekends seemed extra appealing today. Scrubbing stains off of walls, dusting hard to get to spots, shampooing carpets and cushions, reorganizing cabinets, laundering bedding, curtains and towels, dealing with the pile of miscellaneous papers that always seemed to appear on the edge of the counter, and giving the kitchen a deep cleaning left them exhausted enough to fall back into bed, but not enough to fall asleep, which was a major spiz. They’d held out as long as they could, pushing their bruised muscles and spinning head past their limit to complete their self-appointed chores. They probably should’ve taken more water breaks, ‘cause now they were stuck in bed with their thoughts and a dry throat.
They couldn’t bring themselves to regret it. No matter how much their body wanted them to. The pain and persistence had been the perfect distraction. Any time they were struck by how different eomma’s apartment looked now that their stuff was in it, or what their chore schedule at appa’s had been in comparison, or how close they’d come to joining him yesterday they turned the music up and scrubbed harder. They had to do something today to make up for missing work. The cost of city transit passes and groceries and the occasional night out ate up their paycheck fast, even with eomma insisting she could cover rent on her own. And sure money was tight with appa’s passing, but they weren’t on the verge of financial ruin or anything. Eomma’s job was good. Still, they couldn’t shake the memories of second-hand everything and hoarding coupons and asking friends if they were going to finish elementary school lunches. It could’ve been worse, they knew. They always knew that. But Matt had never dealt with that, and they didn’t want him to, so they took as many hours as they could then took him out to Cheezy Dan’s when eomma worked late.
It was already dark by the time eomma and Matt got home. That wasn’t saying much, it was still February, but the dark made the empty feel so much bigger. For all they knew, a shadow-covered room could go on forever. It felt good (emotionally, definitely not physically) when eomma flicked on the light and started tutting about how they were supposed to have rested, darn it, as if she wouldn’t have done the same thing.
Dinner was warm and hardy and not too rich. Eomma reminded Matt to use his inside voice. They ate with the stove hood light on and a couple candles that Terry knew eomma liked too much to burn outside of special occasions. When they’d nearly finished their food she pressed more onto their plate with a reprimand about remembering their health. Matt tried to do the same when she turned away, but their theatrical spluttering indignation made him laugh and drew her attention. After the meal they were firmly banned from helping clean, much to Matt’s dismay.
Exiled to the couch they bugged the group chat until someone picked up their voice call, though it soon turned to video when a certain twip wandered over and decided Chels, Mel, Dana and Jackie needed an infomercial of every Lego vidgame they owned. All two of them. After the infiltrator had been sufficiently distracted Terry was able to ask how Melanie was doing. Good, with the exception that it didn’t feel real yet, is what she reported. They started to float the idea that the house of cards could come crumbling down if she would testify, but she looked so stricken that they stopped midway through. They’d seen that before. People too terrified of their abusers they wouldn’t even entertain the thought of being rid of them for good. This would probably be easier with Jack around, so Terry tabled the discussion and spent the rest of the call trying to give Mel clues as to where she could find Dana’s secret candy stash instead.
Mr. Wayne would just have to wait a little while for his answer.
–
A month was hardly an age, but it was enough to make them feel like they’d all known Melanie forever. She settled into their group nicely, catching rides to school with Dana in the mornings, joining their table at lunch, contributing to their group chats when class got boring, going to events or around town in the afternoon and accompanying Terry to work more evenings than not. Not that the Tans couldn’t afford an extra mouth or twenty to feed, but Melanie had been stuck as the hostage of rich benefactors once and wasn’t eager for a repeat. Gazaleh was happy to have her, so she took hours where she could–though she did have to be coaxed by Terry to do less when she started to feel the difference in workload between Hamilton Hill High and her previous homeschool regimen.
On the clandestine side, they were still waiting for the all clear from Jack to make a move on Reine and Sigourney Walker, since they didn’t want to accrue collateral. Wayne wasn’t happy with the development, but he could glitch it. No one would be swinging through the skylights on this case and he could deal (though Terry couldn't say he was entirely opposed to the idea). The man did hint that he had dirt on them locked and loaded, which, knowing what he knew probably meant an itemized list of crimes over the past fifty years, so he passed along to Melanie that it was pretty much open-shut as soon as she gave the word and left it at that.
At school the buzz of a midyear transfer lasted long enough to get her acquainted with the student body, but not so long that it overstayed its welcome, especially after she settled in with Chelsea Cunningham and Dana Tan. Then the scandal of Coach Jackson was revealed then dealt with and the collective conscious of good ol’ Triple H moved on.
“Weird,” was Melanie’s response when they explained this in the hall one day. “I mean, I guess it makes sense that there’s a point where people stop treating you as the new shiny anomaly, but it’s been so long that I’d forgotten what it felt like. Maybe I never knew.”
“Well you do now,” Chels declared, throwing an arm over her shoulder.
“Yeah, and we’re not letting you go anytime soon,” Dana colluded, boxing her in on the other side.
Melanie’s smiles were still pretty small. She shrunk in on herself when she gave them, like being too open with her happiness was an invitation for attack. Knowing her parents, it had been, but Terry had been pleased to see one day that she’d given a full grin that didn’t vanish as quick as it’d come and he realized she was steadily improving.
Then someone called out “Miss Walters!” and she was back to her defensively blank look. Terry had to suppress whipping around with a glare for whoever said that. It had sounded like an adult, and most adults in this building didn’t have high opinions of him already.
Sure enough, when the group turned they were met with the politely interested visage of Dr. Billings, the school psychologist.
“Sorry to call you out like that, you’re not in trouble, I promise. I was going to send a note to your next class to have you spend the period with me, but then I saw you in the hall and figured I’d catch you now. Mind stepping into my office? I’ll let your teacher know where you are.”
“Oh, um, uhh,” she stuttered, hands tangling themselves in her hair while one foot wrapped around the other’s ankle.
“Actually, we have to give a presentation this period. Can she come to you the one after that?” Dana cut in, tightening her grip on Mel’s shoulders protectively.
“Of course, of course. I’ll just meet with another student this period, don’t worry about a thing Miss Walters,” Billings said, plastering on an even politer smile before disappearing back into his lair. Terry waited until the door was shut to make his distaste audible, but only just.
“Slag that guy gives me the creeps.”
“For once I’ll look past your anti-therapy agenda and agree with you,” Dana muttered, eyes fixed on the frosted glass and the glittering ‘Ira Billings’ written there.
“I don’t have an anti-therapy agenda, I have an anti-confronting-my-feelings agenda that doesn’t apply to other people. Plus, most of the shrinks I’ve been forced to see were White.”
“Fair.”
“Wait, what’s wrong with Doctor Billings?” Melanie asked, gaze flitting between the two of them.
“He’s…” their entire group made various noncommittal sounds with a few so-so hand gestures thrown in. “There’s nothing concrete, but the vibes are off,” Chelsea concluded. “The questions he always asks feel kinda leading. And not in the usual therapist way.”
“What, like he’s a predator?”
“Can’t say. All I know is that his sessions never seem to help anyone. Avoid talking about your feelings if you can.”
“Alright,” Mel acquiesced, eyes lingering on the door as they started moving towards their classes again. Over the hubbub of the hallway he just barely caught her mumble, “Not like it’ll be hard.”
–
“So?”
“How’d it go?”
“What kinds of things did he say?”
The group was huddled around their usual lunch table when Melanie appeared with a tray of questionable food in hand. She was still getting used to the slop that was American school lunches, having denied Mrs. Tan’s offer to pack her food alongside Dana for fear of imposing. She was handing more and more of her state-issued suffering off to Terry every day though, and they didn’t give it long before she finally caved.
She sat and shrugged. “It was fine. He asked how I’ve been adjusting. The school knows I’m being fostered by Dana’s family, just not why. I said some vague stuff about sh*t parents and we went back to talking about ‘the moment’ or whatever.”
“Hmm,” Dana visibly contemplated her words. “It didn’t sound like he was asking you leading questions?”
“Not really? I’ve never been to any sort of mental anything. Mom and dad thought it was a waste of time. Anyone who went just needed to grow up and work harder.”
“Surprise surprise.”
“I know, right? Anyways, he can’t really make me see him for a while unless I request a session or get in trouble, so I’ll just lay low.”
“Yeah, as long as you avoid pulling a Terry you’ll be fine.”
“Hey!”
“Like it isn’t true.”
“It is, but you don’t have to say it like that!”
Mel snickered, so at least the blow to his dignity had cheered someone up. Then Jackie and Jared joined the group and the conversation moved on to Ms. Tate’s upcoming wedding, which was rumored to be the party of the century.
Jared rolled his eyes when Chelsea insinuated as much. “More like the party of the past year and a half. Besides, it’s not your kind of party, Chels.”
“Please, I can be respectable and formal and stuff.”
The ambient chatter of the lunchroom was suddenly very obvious.
“I can,” she glared around at the rest of them. Apparently the irony of saying this while dressed in a typical outfit of a mini skirt, loudly patterned long sleeve and ripped crop top was lost on her. “Mel, you’ll back me up, right?”
“I don’t know enough about this topic to really say–”
“See? She’s on my side. Unlike the rest of you twips,” Chelsea slung Melanie’s arm over her shoulder like a protective cape and pulled her close, distracting her enough for Terry’s hand to dart over and snag one of her tater tots. Mel caught it out of the corner of her eye and lunged to grab it, but it was already flying into his mouth.
While the two of them were scuffling because “You weren’t gonna eat it!” “That was one of the things I actually like!” the rest of the group returned to productive things.
“What do you mean by party of the past year and a half, though?” Jackie asked.
“I say that because the last time she got married was a year and a half ago. These things never last. I love my mom to death, but the woman’s got a horrible taste in men. I’d bet a hundred creds there’ll be at least one more before graduation,” Jared sighed.
“Deal,” said Chelsea. Dana smacked her on the arm. “What?!”
“Don’t take a bet like that!” she scolded.
“Why not? He offered!” she waved her hands indignantly.
“It’s a jerk move!”
“Okay, fine! I take it back!”
Jared cracked a small smile at their bickering before shoveling down a bite of bland food. “You guys can come if you want. Mom told me to invite friends. Might as well go just to enjoy free refreshments. The guy’s paying for it all anyway.”
“Who’s paying for what?” Terry asked, finally putting enough distance between himself and Melanie’s wrath to rejoin the conversation.
“Ms. Tate’s new husband is paying for the wedding. Jared’s invited us all so we can eat free food,” Jackie explained, stealing a piece of his food in solidarity when he looked away.
“Sounds schway. I’ve never been to a wedding.”
“And I’ve been to too many. We should switch.”
“No thanks, divorces collector.”
“Okay bike accidents collector.”
“Oh my g-d, this again?” Terry groaned, annoyed by the returning argument.
“Gazaleh said herself that the most other drivers have done is gotten a couple scratches on their bikes.”
“Dude, lay off already! That wasn’t my fault! I can’t control the chances of random old guys coming up and sending bikes into walls!”
“Or getting kidnapped from off of them, apparently,” he snarked, but Dana and Terry saw the flinch Melanie made in reaction. Their eyes met in a moment of understanding.
“Hey Mel, you’ve never been to a wedding either, right?” Dana asked.
“Yeah, this could be fun for both of us!” Terry reached for another one of her tater tots, but the offending hand was smacked away.
“Are you sure?” Melanie turned to Jared. “Your mom’s never even met me, so if she doesn’t want me to come that’s fine.”
“She hasn’t met Terry either, but I’ve complained enough about him that if anyone’s gonna get kicked out it's him.”
“Hey! Again!”
Mel smiled, consoled by Jared’s reassurance (and Terry’s suffering). “Alright. If she really won’t mind…”
“She won’t. It’s not like this is a once in a lifetime event for her. At least come as my moral support, I don’t know how much more ‘til death do us part’ nonsense I can deal with on my own,” he said, so it was decided.
–
The next morning Chelsea was in a terrible mood. The kind she got in when her boyfriend of the week dumped her for a change, or more commonly, when she and her dad had a fight. Terry could tell by the exaggerated sway to her hips and straight set of her shoulders when she stormed over to them and Jared in the hall. She never tried so hard to draw attention when she didn’t have something to make up for.
“Yo, Chels,” they called, carefully casual. It was always better to let her broach the subject on her own. She didn’t take well to being singled out.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” Jared followed suit, though he probably didn’t know her well enough to tell she was upset yet.
“Nothing,” she said breezily with a flip of her short blond hair.
Terry waited a beat.
She huffed. “Stop that, Terry. I know what you’re doing. Jared, what’s the dress code for this wedding thingy?”
“Uhh,” Jared glanced between the pair. “Formal?” he said, but it came out as more of a question.
Chelsea caught Terry’s gaze but quickly pulled out her phone to check her makeup. She reapplied a layer of lipgloss with a finishing pop before declaring, “Schway. We can make a whole shopping trip out of this then. I’ve been meaning to get new dresses for formals and stuff anyway.”
Terry’s brows furrowed. Usually she’d at least have hinted that she was upset by now.
“Melanie wouldn’t have been able to grab any nice clothes when she ran, right? We should definitely get a dress for her too. I can’t imagine being stuck in nothing but sweaters and leggings all the time, especially since she’s from up top. She’s got a couple skirts, doesn’t she? Why can’t she wear those more often? It might keep her from looking like a low-lev–”
“Chels,” they interjected sharply.
“What?” she snapped back, rounding on them with a glare. “It’s true.”
“You can offer to get clothes for your friend who’s recently lost most of her stuff without being backhanded and a prick about it. What’s gotten into you today?”
“Why are you always poking around in my business, McGinnis?”
“Because you’re my friend and you’re walking around picking fights, Cunningham. Don’t you think I know what that looks like?”
They were matching her glare with one of their own now, and she wasn’t wavering. Poor Jared was stuck between the two of them, trying to extract his notebooks from his locker without drawing their ire. Just when it looked like Terry would have to play dirty to win this staring contest, Chelsea caught sight of something off to the side and her whole body slumped. They followed her trajectory and landed on two police officers in the standard stupid black and white jumpsuit. Their heartbeat quickened, but the pigs walked right past to Dr. Billings’ office. By then both Jared and Terry turned to Chelsea in alarm.
She hunched in further on herself.
“It’s going to sound totally, absolutely spizzed out. You guys will think I’ve gone mill,” she said, voice raw and miserable.
Terry locked eyes with Jared, thoughts of cat ooze monsters, exploded bikes and card gangs crossing their mind.
“Try us.”
–
Costumed weirdos running around wreaking havoc was much rarer now than it had been thirty, or even twenty years ago, but if any of them were going to pop up again Neo Gotham would be the place, Terry knew that for a fact.
“Well I dunno about you, J, but that sounds pretty believable to me,” they said.
“Yeah same,” Jared shrugged.
“Seriously? Swirly-faced illusionists screams solid story and not ‘Chelsea was higher than a cloud and looking for attention’?” she scrutinized them warily. “That’s what my dad thinks, even if he’s having it investigated. He’s just doing that to prove me wrong.”
“First, I know for a fact you don’t even like hallucinogens. Or getting high alone. If you say you weren’t high then you weren’t high, and if I really wanted to double check that I could ask what’s-his-face to back you up. Second, you never lie to us about the frag you pull to annoy your dad. Why would you start with the most whacked out unbelievable one?”
“Maybe it’s reverse psychology,” she muttered, curling in on herself again as the cops passed, returning the way they’d come.
“That’s not how reverse psychology works,” Jared declared confidently.
“Probably. Yeah. But still, what am I going to do about an illusionist?”
Terry placed a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know exactly, but we will–” the second bell rang. They were all late for class. It didn’t matter. “We’ll figure something out, okay?”
The corner of her lip lifted in the barest of smiles.
“You know, if supervillains are returning to NG, maybe superheroes will be next. You aiming to try out for the role, Terry?”
“Me? A cape? Please,” they hooked an arm around hers and started dragging her to class, waving to Jared as he ran off in the other direction. “You’d have to have actually gone mill to think someone like me could ever be a superhero.”
–
In class they wrote up a message to Mr. Wayne recounting the details Chelsea provided. They then promptly got their phone taken by the teacher for the rest of the period, so they had to endure another thirty minutes and a lecture before they could check his response. What they found sent a hot spike of anger through their gut.
‘This seems to be a pattern of hers.’ was all it said.
‘excuse me??’ they shot back, dodging people in the corridor on their way to the next class.
‘It’s not the first stunt she’s pulled.’
‘ur gonna call her a liar withotu even looking into it???’
‘I have, but there’s not much to it.’
‘it still sounds sus af tho. U were the one who told mje to tell u abt any wack stuff and I am. Doesn’t this situantionn feel at elast a little off to u??’
The texting bubbles bouncing up and down felt like a mockery.
‘To be frank, sometimes an attention grab really is just an attention grab. Not every incident has a deeper explanation. I’m not going to get involved with every little issue just because it comes with a flashy story. She’s just another troubled kid lashing out at daddy. Nothing to get worked up about. Not unless there’s progress on the Walker case.’
Terry stopped dead in the crowd, fist shaking with rage as people wove around them.
‘Chelsea may be flaky sometimes but shes not stupid. I wouldnt have said antying if i didnt think there was something more to it. Also leave Mel tf out of this. She’ll be ready when shes ready and not a moment before,. I thought u of all ppl would understand that’
With that they closed the device and shoved it in their pocket before storming to class, uncaring for the first time in a long time of who they nearly trampled to do so.
In class they dumped their backpack in their spot, then announced that they were going to the restroom on their way back out the door. It was more effort than they usually put into skipping, and anyways they didn’t even mean to be gone the whole time, just, long enough to cool down. Maybe there was a reason they’d found that old guy all alone that night…
–
The bright red convertible was jam packed on the way to the wedding. Music blaring, top down and people double-buckled in the back, Dana drove like they weren’t going to be on time. Where she got her chronic sense of time dilation, Terry didn’t know. Her parents drove like normal Neo Gothamites, but he would swear that she was trying to compete with the cabbies and he delivered for a living.
Melanie only looked a little freaked out when she wobbled on up to the curb next to Terry, shooting him a glare when he whispered that she used to ride an unsecured hoverboard around and hissing that she was in control of that thing in response. Her updo hadn’t even gotten that frazzled on the trip though, so he didn’t know what she was glitching about. Her new olive green dress was fine too, picked specifically to meld with Chelsea’s champagne, Jackie’s light gray, and Dana’s silver. Willie had been dragged along in a navy suit, while Terry had just borrowed Jared’s black one from the last wedding.
The group then made their way inside the venue, rushed through scan-in when Jared pulled them to the front of the line and got escorted to the seats he’d reserved for his party.
“The ceremony’s gonna be the longest part, but after that we’re free to raid the buffet so just hold tight everyone,” he sighed as they settled in.
“I don’t know what you’re so down about. I mean yeah the aftermath is going to be shiv, but this place is way schway–look at all the natural lighting!” Chelsea exclaimed.
“Yeah, they’ve even got cushioned seats,” Terry added, though with more guile.
Jared gave him an unimpressed look. “Hard to be enthusiastic when you know you’re going to be cleaning it up. Happens every time,” he said, draping an arm over the back of his chair and kicking his feet up.
“Well, okay, but you have to at least appreciate that it’s kind of romantic how she keeps giving marriage a try even after all these attempts. Most people would’ve given up by now,” she pressed on undeterred.
“Speaking of romance, I notice your latest boytoy isn’t with us today. What’s up with that, Chels?” Dana asked, elbow propped on a knee so she could rest a cheek on her hand and stare at her friend pointedly.
“That was never going to last anyway. I’m hoping he takes the lack of invitation as a hint,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand.
Various looks were traded over her head. She was too busy pressuring poor Willie to back her point for her to notice.
They continued to entertain themselves as other guests filed in, content to watch how many people almost walked into a freestanding decoration badly placed just around the corner of the entryway until Jared took out his phone and cursed.
“What happened?” Jackie asked, leaning towards the screen since she was the closest.
“Just my mom asking me to come talk to her and the husband-to-be in the back. Apparently they have an announcement to make,” he stood and made a sweeping gesture with his arm as if to wave away their concern. “Don’t worry, it’s probably just gonna be a load of sappy ‘I’m so happy to be joining your family, I hope you can think of me as a father’ nonsense. It’s happened before, and he seems like the kinda guy to do it. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He walked off with the same resigned air he’d carried the whole day. Terry only realized how prominent it had become when he came back with an actual smile and a noticeable spring in his step, and he wasn’t the only one.
“Hey, I thought you were feeling down and out about this whole wedding thing?” Jackie ventured to say what they were all thinking.
“I was!” Jared grinned as he resumed his carefree position, even tipping the chair far back enough to risk an ER visit. “Until my new stepdad gave me this.” Something shiny caught the famed venue lights as he twirled it around his fingers.
“Dude!”
“No way.”
“A car!?”
“Fresh off the lot! Selling my current one will help pay off a huge chunk of it too. Then it’ll just be me and smooth hovering.”
“Schway!”
“Right? Now we can actually have a fair race,” Dana said slyly, met then by Jared’s look of incredulity and Terry pulling her back while sighing, “Babe, c’mon, we talked about this.” which sent everyone into giggles until they had to hastily muffle themselves and stand as the music started.
The couple of the hour emerged on opposite sides of the raised dais where the altar was, from there they approached, and recited vows that were short but sweet. As they spoke Terry wondered briefly if he would ever be up there like that, ideally without the mess that was Ms. Tate’s (soon to be Mrs. again.) or his parent’s relationship. Something nice, stable, secure, possibly if he was especially lucky with the girl standing next to him–shutting up shutting up shutting up they’re still in high school they’re only sixteen and this train of thought was officially cringe. Slag.
When they were officially declared Mrs. & Mr. Tate the two joined hands and descended from the dais to live symphony accompaniment, applause and the flashing of cambots. As they did he noticed that on top of the new car, the guy had also likely provided the heavy looking string of rocks on the lady. In contrast to the photos of poor college students in a run down church that Terry used to see as a kid, this was a lot different than he’d imagined.
His musings were then jarringly interrupted when Mrs. Tate screamed. Their group was shocked to silence when she wrenched her arm away from her new husband, threw her bouquet when he reached out in concert, stumbled past the cambots and her flower-bearing nibling then ran down the rest of the aisle in distress. Not the marital regret kind either, but plain cold terror.
Jared was shaken out of his stupor the fastest, pushing through the frozen crowd to tear after his mother and step-father. Terry made to follow him, but a peek of bright color from across the room caught his eye and he switched directions on a dime, trusting Dana to chase them instead.
When he made it to the doorway the patterned figure had disappeared into it was empty. He grit his teeth and picked up speed, hoping that whoever it was was still near. That he wasn’t imagining them looking exactly like Chelsea’s description of the person with the eyeball.
Around the next corner he caught sight of them again, this time slipping out onto the venue grounds. When he wrenched the door open they were already halfway to the edge of the lev platform, but orange and black swirls didn’t meld inconspicuously with the patch of scenic greenery the place maintained. Terry jumped the remainder of the ramp down and was on his way to corner the creep when they jumped over the lev’s edge. He was too used to that move to slow, but the distinct sound of a revving hover speeder flying the other way forced him to change directions again and head towards the front. There he emerged on the sub-lev below the venue and ran to the edge to try and get a glimpse of his brightly-colored target, his inadvisable lean over the railing becoming actually dangerous when something so forceful bumped him from behind that it nearly sent him falling for the second time that year.
He overcorrected hard, falling to the ground in his attempt to get away from imminent death and landing at the feet of Jared’s mom, who looked at him and screamed like he was a giant insect or… Chels had said it felt so real nothing on Earth could’ve convinced her it wasn’t. She started running full tilt towards the edge again but this time he was prepared, grabbing her skirts and yanking her back just long enough for Jared and his stepdad to catch up and pull her to safety–though you wouldn’t know it from the way she kept screaming. While they got a handle on that Terry searched the open air plaza for any sign of the illusionist, but only barely caught the tail end of what looked like one of those jousting-model trick speeders with an orange and black rider before it dove between two buildings above.
A moment later Mrs. Tate stopped screaming.
When she melted into her husband’s hold instead of continuing to thrash against him and her son, Terry willed his heart to slow its pace. Dana, who was at the forefront of the crowd who had followed the commotion outside, sidestepped the huddled family to help him to his feet–an assist he didn’t fully appreciate until his movement made him realize getting knocked into a railing at speed had bruised his ribs. He waved her off when she caught him wincing, but he only got away with it because Jared met his eye and came over to envelop him in a hug.
Terry didn’t say anything, about the pain or the incident. Almost losing a parent was a bit too real. They all needed a minute.
Jared let out a shaky breath and pulled back, scrubbing at tears that were replaced as soon as he got rid of them. Dana reached around to rub his back while Terry shifted to let him keep his mom in his line of sight.
He sniffled. “Thanks, guys,” he managed with a watery smile.
“Of course,” they chorused easily.
“Mom says she doesn’t understand what happened. One second everything was normal and the next she was in this world with a billion giant bug monsters in a giant cave system, then we get ahold of her and she’s back here. It can’t be some mystic teleporter thing, she was right there the entire time! I just don’t- it doesn’t. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“Actually, I think it has,” Terry said, looking over his shoulder to spot short-cropped blonde hair and a dark champagne dress. Vindication roared like a fire in his chest. He’d like to see Wayne try and write this off now.
–
‘https://www.gothamgazette.com/news/local-news/2040/03/wedding-crashed-by-acute-hallucination-or-delibertate-attack-?/’
‘was she just lashing out too??’
It was an aggressively petty opener, but he’d never claimed to be a leader in the fields of grace and patience. He stared at the screen, daring Wayne to reply for a few minutes, but when no bubbles popped up he jammed the phone back in his pocket and returned to the Tate’s kitchen. It was a roomy place, with counter space and windows indicative of a nicer mid-lev apartment and a box or two of their things in the process of being packed. Not that any of the gathered recipe books were being used to cook. After the medical checks and reporters, all anyone had energy left for was the takeout piled on the fine oak table.
Jared sat with his chair moved flush against his mom’s, having spent a majority of the day trailing as close to her as physically possible. Mrs. Tate had let her hair down and changed into worn loungewear. She looked spooked but insisted she was fine. The doctor she’d seen had agreed with her, so even the dizzying concern of Mr. Tate, who’d put the rest of his wedding day time and effort into trying to account for her every need, couldn’t convince her to do more than sit and eat some easy food.
When the newlyweds had left for the hospital the reception had continued on under the direction of Mrs. Tate’s brother as per her request, but since their group had only come for Jared it felt wrong to continue on without him. They’d told him as much before he got into the car with his parents, to which he asked that Terry and Chelsea, and of course by extension the rest of them, actually wait at his apartment to explain the theory once his mom was in a better state of mind. They’d agreed and had punched the door code he’d texted in so they could sit around awkwardly in the living room until the family returned with the news that, health-wise, Mrs. Tate was normal. Just like Chelsea had been.
Terry took the final seat next to Chels. There were only four places at the table, so Dana, Melanie, Willie and Jackie had stayed in the living room when the Tate’s got back home to try and come up with something to help while Chelsea and eventually Terry followed further in to check on them. He thanked Mr. Tate when the man presented him with a steaming cup of tea, then turned to watch Mrs. Tate. The woman sighed as her husband set a cup in front of her as well and glared like she wanted it to disappear, but when Jared pushed it closer she relented and took a sip.
“So,” she said in a weary breath, voice still raw from the screaming. “Jared tells me you kids know something about what all-” she waved a hand, “-that was?”
“Yes,” Chelsea replied, firm where she was usually blasé, for once finding nothing to be carefree about. “Just last week I was walking home when a person in an orange and black bodysuit came up to me, held out this weird eye orb thing, then there was a flash and I was in the jungle. Or at least that’s what it seemed like to me. Everything I could smell, see, touch, hear, all of it felt completely real. I thought I knew what was going on too. I had this conviction that I was on a quest to find an ancient statue and throw it into a volcano to stop its eruption, except after I did that my dad shook me out of it and I was standing by the riverbank next to my house having just thrown an old sculpture of his in,” she paused to glance at them warily, expecting disbelief, but the couple listened enraptured so she pressed on. “My dad has city government connections. He got police to look into it but they found nothing. I’m glad it isn’t just me. I mean–I’m sorry this happened and messed up your wedding and all, but it’s nice to know I’m not just going crazy.”
The edge of Mrs. Tate’s lips raised in a small smile that brought the crinkles around her eyes out. Like this she looked just plain tired instead of harrowed.
“It’s fine, dear. I like knowing I’m not just crazy too. That whole bug monster cave, that felt too real too. And sure I’m scared of bugs, but now that I think back on it, I couldn’t think of anything else but getting away from the bugs. Even when I’ve had a big old cockroach flying at my head–”
“Or that time you accidentally swallowed a fly,” Jared offered.
“–or that time I accidentally swallowed a fly, I’ve still been able to think of stuff like ‘I should pick up my shoe’ or ‘I need to get water’. I’ve never panicked that hard. Only problem is I never saw no goon in a getup.”
“I did,” Terry interjected. The adults turned to him with rapt attention. He resisted the urge to tense up. They weren’t trying to fight him. “In the back of the crowd just after you got hit with the illusion. I followed them out a side door but they had a hover speeder so I tried to find them around in the front. That’s why I was where I was when you ran into me. I was looking at the hoverlanes below.”
“In my vision I thought I was running for a crack in the cave wall. You must not have registered to the illusion as a person,” Mrs. Tate mused.
“Good thing I knew I look sexiest in black.”
Chelsea and Jared’s heads swiveled around to him with such force he worried that there might be another hospital trip that day. All of a sudden he realized what he’d said.
“Slag, uh, I- sorry I didn’t–”
Mrs. Tate laughed. Clear and relieved. Mr. Tate, standing behind her, joined in as well.
“Jared, you–” she gasped out between laughs. “I like these friends of yours, hon. They’re funny.”
“Uhh, thanks momma.”
“So! Anyways as I was saying I saw the guy hovering above for a sec before he sped off, then you got back to normal,” Terry said in a rush, eager to move past that. If–no, when Chels told Dana he’d be hearing about it for weeks.
“Mhmm,” Mrs. Tate did him the courtesy of letting the horrible transition slide. “And I suppose all the cameras would’ve hidden the flash. But I still don’t get it. They’re not one of the supervillains on the news, right? So what were they after? Why target us?”
“No, and they’re not one of the old ones either.” Wayne wouldn’t have called Chelsea crazy if they had been. “As for the why…” he tapped his foot as his mind turned, trying to work out the logistics of these two hits. He’d never thought all that time planning crimes would do anything but come back to bite him, but that was on him for being uncreative, he guessed. “This perp clearly doesn’t like being in the spotlight. With Chelsea they used her to chuck that art thing. Maybe it was personal, but now that we know they’ve got a hover speeder–a good one, too–it isn’t a stretch to say they might’ve had a way to take it rigged up. With you… there was a lot of valuables at the wedding. He could’ve been after any of them, but, I think they wanted something that he could get easier by making you look crazy. If that makes sense.”
Mrs. Tate pursed her lips and took a sip of tea, though by the offended look she gave the cup afterwards, she’d done it more out of habit than anything.
“My jewelry,” she said suddenly, happy to have an excuse to put her cup down. “That’s something they could only get by targeting me. Jim got me some diamonds. The illusions could’ve turned those into bugs too.”
“Yeah, it’s–” a buzz in his pocket. “Yeah. One sec, I have to respond to this.” He moved towards the back, stopping not in the living room or the kitchen, but the space between.
‘I suppose you have more details?’ the text read.
‘not even a my b??’
‘Do you have more details or not?’
‘would it even matter??’
‘Terrence, this is unnecessary.’
‘so was being a dick abt last time’
‘Focus on the present.’
‘what good is that? Nto like ur even gonna do anything.’
The response bubbles were still floating around when he sent, ‘no but fr. it was pretty similar to last tiem. Person in the same suit, flash of liht, hallucinations, etc. two victims now and a bunch of witnesses. But actually tho. Im keeping u informed bc u wanted me to, and i want ed to know if this si some old villain ive never heard abt. But unless ur gonna help i dont see why u want to kno more’
‘Everyoen assumed u were dead, which is y u never helped out anymore, but since youve been alive all this time u couldve. I dunno. Called in one of ur fancy friends to help when disasters rolled around??? If u wanna live the rest of ur life frozen in time in that miserable mausoleum of urs. Fine. no one can really say u didnt do ur part,. But why bother acting interested if u arent??’
‘That’s not true.’
‘doesn’t matter. The only heroes coming to NG r here chasing villains from elsewhere. But bc this is a new one ig we’ll be on our own. Like we’ve been as far as I can remember’
There was no new buzz, and Terry felt a bit bad for going off on the guy who’d saved the world on an annual basis for forty years, but not even that could make him excuse being rude to his friends.
When the screen went black he let it, turning his attention instead to the warm chatter surrounding him. From one side, Dana, Willie, Jackie and Mel debating the merits of various movies the Tate’s had on hand. From the other, Jared, Chels, Mr. & Mrs. Tate sat on the phone with her brother discussing the best way to show thanks to the patient partygoers. In the safety of his friend’s apartment he could admit things that he hadn’t had the time for while chasing down a terrifyingly powerful illusionist seemingly targeting only those he knew. That he was scared. That he was anxious. That he would love it if anyone else stepped in to take care of this instead. But that wasn’t going to happen. As he’d just told Mr. Wayne, expecting heroes to save the day in Gotham had been something from his parent’s childhoods, not his. If they were going to come out of this alright it was going to be by doing it together, not by waiting for some man atop his private hill to give them his blessing from on high.
Mr. Tate called out, inviting them all to help finish the rest of the fast food before it went too cold.
Terry’s friends collected him on the way to the kitchen. It was cramped with all of them in there, but he’d take it over the dark empty kitchen he’d once desperately rooted through for heart pills. Today and any day after.