Chapter Text
Tim leaps on the rooftops of the buildings edging Crime Alley. The chilling breeze of the night brushes across the skin of his face when moves and he swings his arm out to grapple to a ledge.
“How's it looking out there on your side tonight, Red?” Barbara asks. She sounds a little breathless too.
“Pretty good, I don't wanna jinx it just yet but I'm glad we're on patrol tonight. A nice night with no annoying brothers on comm to disrupt it.”
She laughs in his ear, “You Waynes. You love your brothers, don't deny it.”
Tim huffs and grapples to a nearby apartment. He keeps his eyes and ears open for any odd movement and sounds. But recently, he's been noticing a trend. An odd one.
Every time he finds himself on patrol even near Crime Alley, it's like the city slows down for him. Oddly enough, it seems Crime Alley is less Crime than Alley nowadays. Frankly, it's unnerving. He won't look a gift horse in the mouth but one can't help but doubt where this mysterious silence stems from. He still sees shady criminals everywhere, but it's like they never seem to have the courage to do the actual crimes.
At first, Tim, egotistically, chalked it up to the Bat's patrols and luck. But even now that they've reduced their patrolling frequency, crime remains at a steady low. Tim doesn't know if Bruce is fully aware of the implications right now, aware of the situation, sure, but the rest– definitely not. Tim doesn't know what to do. This kind of situation is unprecedented. When Joker died years ago, Crime Alley was worse than usual for weeks. Gangs and criminals more violent, villains fighting back with triple strength and even coming back for more.
He pauses as he glances down at 2 thugs walking through a narrow passage to the nearest parking lot. “Hey Babs, is it just me or have these patrols near Crime Alley been way too nice? Like, it's not bad per se… but it's really fishy and to be honest I can't just be thankful because this whole thing is making me so paranoid. I know there's no reason to think this way, but it's Crime Alley! I'm not going crazy, right?” His voice progressively pitches higher through his monologues but he's glad to be getting it out having kept his thoughts to himself in fear of dismissal.
She sounds skeptical and hesitant when she speaks. “I get you, don't worry. The others might not but they don't patrol near Crime Alley nearly as often. They usually only come when a case leads them there or when something bad happens, but I've also noticed it. When I was patrolling the other day, a robber I caught gave up willingly without me even having to go after him. It's bizarre Tim, but I don't know if we should do anything. If I'm honest, I’m liking the change.”
Tim frowns at her tone, dismissive, just what he hoped to avoid. “That's not the point. Good or not, we need to get to the bottom of this. There's been whispers of a new player in the field. I don't have much on him but he's gaining traction. Quick.”
She pauses momentarily, thinking. “I guess you're right. We should tell Bruce and the others then.” Tim hears police sirens go off and suddenly Barbara's breathing goes heavy. She curses under her breath and he hears a gust of wind. “Listen, I'm busy right now but we'll talk about this after patrol, got it?”
Before Tim can agree she's switched channels and he's left alone. The thugs he was watching earlier entered the seven eleven across from him and got burgers. He can't believe he's saying this. He really, really can't— but what a boring night.
He seats himself on the ledge and hears the nearby rattle of a can of spray paint. He sees what must be a pre-teen holding a red bottle of spray paint. She's faced towards the apartment building he's perched on and wearing a hoodie twice her size, covering her face in dark shadows. She also has a folding ladder tucked between the crook of her arm. She glances around her, once left, once right. Then she sets up her ladder and starts spraying on the wall of the building. It's brief, barely taking over 5 minutes to finish. From where Tim's positioned, he can't know what she painted, doesn't have a clue.
He waits as she tucks the spray paint in her hoodie and scurries out of there as quickly as she arrived and painted. He waits a couple of minutes before he hears the sound of footsteps fade completely and then decides to drop down below.
The drawing is large and bold, the red striking against black concrete. Tim doesn't understand what the drawing is at first. Even when he does, he's still confused. It's a staff with an intertwining snake. He knows exactly what it is, what it means, and who it belongs to but he's still bewildered. Normally, kids drew graffiti, gang symbols, not some medical staff from Greek mythology. No tag either. They didn't want to be recognized.
Tim wants to appreciate what he knows for a fact is temporary, fleeting tranquility. But he also knows something larger is brewing. He stares harder, hoping to get an answer.
It never comes.
Later he sends a picture to the group chat.
Natalie opens the key to her new apartment. It's not much. In fact, it's definitely a downgrade from her cozy apartment in Metropolis. It's Crime Alley after all. But she has to settle. At least for now. She had finally realized that she and Matt were in it for the long run and that they might as well move in together and save money while they were at it. Her schooling and student loans are already piling up like crazy. Even with financial aid.
While she does her residency, she can settle for this. For her future. For her career. And maybe for Matt. She sets the box of luggage she holds down and moves her suitcase in. Matt must be late. It's been too long since she's visited Gotham but she feels out of place. Is it her who's changed or the city? Even the people she passed by on the street seemed friendlier than normal.
As she locks the apartment, out of the corner of her eye, she sees a woman. An older lady, middle-aged, bleach blonde hair and dark skin. She pushes a stroller towards the elevator. Coincidentally, Natalie's also heading that way. When they both get in and press Lobby at the same time, the lady sends a soft smile.
“Heading out too?”
Natalie nods and decides to introduce herself. She offers her hand, “Yes, I'm also your new neighbor. I'm Natalie, and my boyfriend Matt is going to live here too.”
Eve takes the offered hand and her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “Nice to meet you Natalie. I'm Eve and this is my son Micheal. I'll see you around,” she calls as leaves the elevator, their paths diverging.
Natalie heads towards her car. Matt would be tired from packing all day. She
Eve pushed Micheal through the streets of Gotham. It's later in the afternoon when it's not too hot. Chilly enough to balance out the summer heat. Micheal's been sick for the past few days and she's felt awful about not being able to get him the medicine. She knows if Jason had known, he would have bought the medicine for her without being asked but she decides she needs to get out of the house anyways.
As she gets out of the apartment building, she sees a familiar face and speeds up, hoping to get by him without being noticed. Unfortunately, she's not so lucky.
“Eve!”
She doesn't look back, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her. Suddenly, a tight grip tugs her wrist back harshly.
“You can't run. Oz has been looking for you. You haven't been showing up lately.”
She narrows her eyes then snaps her wrist away from him.
“I know you Nick. You and Oswald and all his lackeys. Oswald thinks he can control my life, but I have a son to take care of. Leave us alone.”
She goes to move when he's tugging again, less aggressively but nonetheless aggravating.
“Oswald may be patient with you, but know his patience has limits. I'm telling you this for you and Micheal's safety.”
She backhands him as soon as his grip loosens. She scowls fiercely when he goes to touch her again, a fire in his eyes, “Suddenly, you're the angel in disguise sent to save me. Don't try me Nick. Me and Oz? Done. Make sure to tell him that too.”
She pulls away for the last time and pushes Micheal with her, heading down to the pharmacy. She looks down at Micheal, barely a year old yet so small. He was born premature and has always had a weaker immune system which made Eve worry twice as hard about him at all times.
She never planned on getting pregnant with Micheal. Especially not with Oswald. When they had met, Oswald was still climbing the ranks of Falcone's little group. They had a mutually beneficial agreement. He would pay for her time and keep her and her friends “safe,” and in return she would give him what she wanted. She played pretend, played the role of someone he would never get. At times, it was a lover, others it was a maternal figure.
At times, she felt it wasn't all bad, that she could be a normal person. Sometimes, she could almost believe he was, in a sense, nice. Those moments were few and far between, rarely lasting, but they were enough to make her hesitate. Long enough to be ashamed of herself. But after finding out she was pregnant, she woke up and took it for the wake up call it was. Now, she had something she would protect, more valuable than her own life.
She flips through the bills in her wallet. Just enough to get a bottle of the infant's cold syrup. She was going to need to work more hours. She sighs and takes Micheal in her arms when he starts fussing, as if sensing her impending misery.
As Eve waits in line, she sways Micheal side to side until he's still and tired. She isn't paying attention to her surroundings, drifting until–
“... about shit like that here. We can't be loose ‘bout stuff no more. Word on the street's a ghost doctor's been cleaning the streets. Whoever it is, they're damn good at covering their tracks up.”
“Ya can't really believe that Mig. Who gives a–” The other man slaps a hand over his mouth, quickly releasing. He seems serious.
“What did I just say? Bodies been droppin' like flies for months and I'm not risking it. Shut yo damn mouth and don't be a damn fool, lest you or me end up in a dumpster somewhere. I love you brother, but I ain't dyin’ for you no time soon.”
“Mig! What goddamned doctor!” The man sounds crazed now, and he's almost yelling but keeps his harsh whispers, just whispers.
“Anyone involved in shit in his territory. Dead, man! Just dead! No one knows how he does it but there's no cause of deaths on their records. We only know because he wants us to know. He's mocking us–”
It's Eve's turn in line and she sets the syrup down on the counter mindlessly, deep in thought. That's how she feels half an hour later. She's heard whispers of something in the shadows. Nowadays. There's not much shade in Crime Alley nowadays. It's like the non-existent sun has inexplicably been cranked to the highest setting in Crime Alley and left no room for shadows to form. Everything's in the light without a place to hide. It seems even the criminals don't know what to do, but they're scared enough to know not to try anything.
Eve wonders how this changes things. For her, for Micheal. She glances back down to her baby. Setting him in bed for a nap. He babbles nonsense, reaching for her. She offers a finger which he teeths on. Then she glances out her window, at Crime Alley below her. People leisurely roam the streets, a few kids playing tag. A mother watches from the sidelines. A boy trips, bursting out weeping as he cradles his elbow. A girl helps him to his feet, hugging him. And the mother smiles as she watches.
This city might have hope after all. Micheal nods, still babbling. As if agreeing with her.