Gotham Nights, Part 6 (of 9)
By: C. Leuch
CJ stood at the mouth of the Batcave, regarding the outcropping of rock as his balled-up fist rested against his side. Laura had mentioned something when they spoke a few days earlier about how she liked to go to desolate places and relieve stress by beating on some mountain ranges. At this moment he was quite envious of her for that, because he thought that giving a thrashing to hunk of granite would greatly improve his mood. As it was, he had a lot of pent up anger and he doubted the limestone surrounding the cave would be able to take any sort of force without bringing the whole place down. He contemplated taking out his aggression on the little stone outcropping he now stood in front of, a knob of rock jutting out from the main formation that wouldn’t be missed if it were to be beaten into sand. But there were logistical problems – if he hit it from the side, would the rock become a projectile, hurtling into the city and hurting other people or property? If he punched it from the top, what kind of crater would it create as it hit the ground? Would it make the cave entrance unusable?
With a sigh, CJ unballed his fist and walked slowly back into the cave. There wouldn’t be any rock punching tonight, especially since there was no guarantee that would’ve helped his mood anyway. Stupid kryptonite, he thought, choosing instead to hit his fist against his hand. Stupid plan, he thought, changing hands. Oh, it had seemed like a great idea at the time, having Laura talk with the daughter of the murder victim. After all, she was just a grieving college student – what could possibly happen? Well, as it turned out, kryptonite could happen, and it was just fortunate that Laura’s reaction had been that of a lovelorn drunk girl instead of fighting zombie, or her poor boyfriend might have been in trouble.
That thought caused a small smile to form on CJ’s lips. The one ray of sunshine in today’s brush with kryptonite had been meeting the mystery man behind their earlier conversation. CJ hadn’t been quite sure what to expect out of the man that Laura had given her heart to, but he supposed it would be someone that was a lot like their father, since that was supposedly the type of man that girls usually went for. At least as far as appearances went, Matt Owens was pretty far from type. He was fairly tall but very skinny, not what CJ would call athletic. His blond hair was a little on the long side, but not unkempt. It was hard to judge what kind of kid he was, since they hadn’t said more than a couple sentences to each other, but he seemed nice enough, CJ supposed. Plus he must be pretty smart if he knew to call Sam Wayne when it was obvious that Laura was not herself. CJ gave him a lot of credit for not taking advantage of her in that situation, and could tell that Matt cared for her just by the way he looked at her, almost as if he was protective of her. It was kind of sweet, actually, and CJ made a mental note to reach out to him again sometime to try and get to know him better. But that would have to come later, after all this was wrapped up.
CJ sighed again as he flopped down in the chair in front of the big computer. As nice as it was to think about future social engagements, with the incident today the murder case had become even more pressing, if that was possible. Now that he knew there was more red kryptonite out there, it was probably only a matter of time before the murderer found out, too. He needed to be smart and try to get to the murderer fast, or there could be trouble for the victim’s daughter. Getting there was the hard part, though, and right now it felt as if there weren’t enough hours in the day to get through just the research alone, not to mention actually going out and doing field work. The police department had dedicated a dozen officers to the case, and they were out interviewing witnesses and trying to make connections. Every evening, CJ found their reports and read through them, though that by itself usually took an hour or two. There were interviews with co-workers, neighbors, people that the victim associated with such as the local coffeehouse barista and branch librarian, managers at local businesses that the victim had frequented such as the grocery store and the local pawn shop. The last one had potential, especially since the victim had been arguing about money before her death, but at this point there just wasn’t enough data to establish a very firm connection.
CJ’s own research had taken him in a different direction, and it, too, had been time consuming. His parents had sent him a declassified report that they had acquired some time back from a quasi-governmental agency called Bureau 39. Back in the 1990’s, some nutjob named Trask has started looking into alien threats, and one of the things that had caught his attention had been a chunk of meteorite that had been sent in to a Federal lab in Kansas for testing. Convinced that it had some sort of national security value and a connection to Superman, he had taken over Smallville, CJ’s Dad’s hometown, looking for more. CJ’s folks had filled in the gaps in the report, and told him about their dealings with the man, and about Clark’s first encounter with the rock. But what his folks hadn’t said, and maybe what they had missed in the report, was the fact that Trask had also been aware of red kryptonite from the same area, through separate specimens that had reached him from the Schuster farm. Although intrigued, he had focused on the green kryptonite instead, since it had a stronger radioactive signature. So Bureau 39 knew about red kryptonite, and thanks to the declassification of the files, the world now knew about it, too. It had only taken a brief search for CJ to find the report separately on his own, and if he could find it, so could anyone with a few resources at their fingertips.
He supposed that the availability of that report could help to explain the “how” of the case. If the world knew that the Schusters had been in possession of the red kryptonite, then all someone had to do to get some of their own was find a family member. For the fun of it, CJ also dove into Smallville land records, trying to see what happened to the tracts of land where the kryptonite, both red and green, had been found. The Irig farm, where the green kryptonite came from, had remained in the family, but Schuster’s field had changed hands several times, most recently to some holding company with a long and confusing name. That was another possible clue, one which required yet more digging. So far CJ had yet to get to the person behind the lawyers who signed all the paperwork, and it might take more on-site research to get there. He also didn’t know yet why anyone was interested in kryptonite, since so far no threats had been made to the super beings of Gotham or Metropolis, and as far as he knew nobody was committing crimes using kryptonite for protection. CJ got the feeling if he could figure out the “why” of the case, the rest would come together fairly easily.
The real question lurking in the background was, if the murderer didn’t necessarily want kryptonite for Superman-related reason, then what did they want it for? What else could it be used for? Jewelry, obviously, but nobody seemed to be beating down Katherine Schuster Willey’s door for that particular item, judging by the interview with the pawn shop manager. His parents hadn’t alluded to any other uses for it, but what if something slipped their minds? CJ wasn’t normally one to second guess his folks or their memories, especially concerning a subject this important to them, but…. With a small frown, he typed ‘kryptonite’ into his computer’s powerful search utility, and the usual host of articles came up, at least half of which were written by his parents. But as he scrolled through them, something caught his eye. It was an article about a man who was made into a cyborg, dubbed “Metallo” by the press, though his name was originally Johnny Corbin. And he had been powered by kryptonite.
So there was another potential use for the rock. Intrigued, CJ searched for more information on Metallo and his creator, Rollie Vale. The records were little more sparse there, but as CJ read through them, something began to tickle the back of his mind. Kryptonite gave off a radioactive signature, but was stable and completely harmless to humans. Its half life was a relatively long time, making it a perfect energy source if you’re looking to power something portable over a long period. It could be a revolution in energy, if it could be studied further….
All of a sudden CJ’s eyes went wide. “Holy crap,” he muttered under his breath, then shot out of his chair and made a beeline for the stairs. He had a pretty good idea of who might be behind this now, and he had to get back to his office to confirm his suspicion.
---
How did he never notice this before, CJ wondered as he stared at a nondescript lab contained within the bowels of Wayne Enterprises. Outwardly, the lab was like any of dozens throughout the building, set up to work on projects covering a wide range of subjects that were under development at the company. But unlike any of the other labs that CJ knew about, this one had a lining of lead on the walls, floor, ceiling, and door. That made it impossible to peek inside, to get a concrete idea of what was waiting for him behind that door, though he had an inkling.
One of his ongoing projects had been to look into developing different energy sources, and CJ had had some success with that, thanks to the Wayne Enterprises brain trust. It had lead to some recognition for him, magazine articles and other press that his Dad had alluded to when they met at the movie party, but CJ never felt deserving of the accolades. His main contribution had been to foster an atmosphere of innovation, and he did it by challenging the Wayne Enterprises employees into a competition of sorts. He gave the research teams some time to look into ideas, developing them beyond the superficial into viable projects, then had the teams pitch him their ideas. The winner would be given the full backing and resources of the company, and the idea developed to fruition. The members of the winning team would also be given bonuses, as well as a greater stake in the outcome of the project, and in this case the outcome had been spectacular. The projects that didn’t make the cut had been shelved, though some people had banked considerable time and effort into those projects, and there were some hurt feelings, but nobody lost their job because of not having their project chosen.
CJ had vague memories of the projects that didn’t make the cut, and one had been a portable energy source that relied on crystals of some sort. The presentation had been based on theory and math, without any actual crystals being produced, and never had there been any discussion of what exactly the crystal was. But with the benefit of hindsight and his new knowledge about past uses of kryptonite, CJ had a strong suspicion that this could be connected to his case. Upon arriving at his office, he dug through his files and found the information that had been submitted as part of that project, and it only strengthened his suspicions. Now he found himself in front of the lab used by the design team, staring down the unknown. Inside there was the potential proof of his theory, in the form of a rock that could potentially kill him or do any number of other horrible things. It would be completely idiotic to go in there alone, knowing what could happen if he was right about the lab’s contents, so he had called one of the two people he trusted who didn’t have superpowers and therefore couldn’t be harmed by the contents of the lab to come help him.
“This is either really dumb or really brave on your part,” Dick said from next to him. “But I’m leaning toward dumb.”
“I was just congratulating myself for being smart enough to grab you to help,” CJ answered. “I was going to do it myself, but I’m not suicidal. Anyway, I’m the boss, and this is kind of my responsibility.”
Dick glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “You could’ve grabbed the big boss,” he said. This was his stab at humor, and CJ tried to appreciate it for what it was, but the thought of phoning in Bruce caused an involuntary shudder.
“And be faced with a litany of I-told-you-so’s and that stare – you know the one. The I’m-terribly-disappointed-in-you stare. All things being equal, I’d rather take a hit of kryptonite.”
That brought a smile from Dick, who knew the feeling all too well. CJ shoved his hands in his pants pocket and pulled out a keychain containing the master key to the building. Placing it in Dick’s hand, CJ took a step back and waved his arm toward the door. “You can do the honors,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just position myself behind the door for the time being.”
Dick took the key and quickly undid the lock, giving CJ a small nod before yanking open the door. CJ held his breath as the hall began to glow green, though the intense pain he expected to feel didn’t come. “Well?” he asked.
“Lots of vials along the wall here, glowing green,” Dick said. CJ could hear his footsteps as Dick walked around and inspected the lab. “We have a row of filing cabinets that we can get into later. The workbench has some chemicals and some files, but I don’t see any rocks.”
Cautiously, CJ stepped around the door and poked his head inside. It was as Dick had described, he supposed. Suddenly bold, CJ straightened up and stepped into the room, though it caused a dull ache to course through his body. It wasn’t the stabbing pain he had experienced when exposed to Kryptonite in the past, though it wasn’t exactly pleasant, either. He could live with it, though, so he started to poke through the files that were already out. “This says the research is to create synthetic kryptonite,” CJ said. “Obviously it’s not very successful, since I’m able to stand here.”
“Is that a complaint?” Dick asked.
“I’m conflicted,” CJ answered. “On the one hand, yes, it’s a good thing that they weren’t able to synthesize something that could kill me and my family. On the other, I’m paying for this research, darn it, and I expected a little better return on investment.”
“Spoken like a Wayne,” Dick said dryly.
“The fact that I’m actually good at my job helps with the disguise,” CJ said, straightening up and looking around. “So, okay, here’s the deal. Researching kryptonite isn’t exactly illegal. To make a case against this guy, I’m looking for any mention of our victim by name, of any real estate deals in Smallville, Kansas, and anything else that may be personal or incriminating.”
Dick gestured toward the filing cabinets. “Want to help a guy out and give these a quick scan? Might help us know where to start.”
CJ squinted at the cabinets, but instead of the metal dissolving in front of his gaze, he just got a headache. “Sorry, but this stuff is getting to me.”
Dick’s gaze stayed on CJ a little too long, a look of concern evident, but CJ ignored it. There was work to do. With a sigh, Dick opened the first file drawer and started leafing through folders, and CJ did the same with the desk drawers. He was actually kind of impressed that the research team managed to develop something with at least some of the pop of the real thing, he thought as he opened up the first drawer, which contained nothing but office supplies. Doubly impressed, he thought, if they’re basing it only on those Bureau 39 reports. He would think that it would take a piece of the real thing to really get the research rolling. As he opened the second drawer, a wave of pain seemed to course over him, and with a groan, he collapsed onto his knees, all strength in his legs gone.
“And there it is,” he said under his breath, quickly shoving the drawer shut and bracing himself to keep from completely falling over.
Seconds later, he felt Dick’s hand on his arms, tugging him up. CJ gave his best embarrassed chuckle, but Dick apparently was immune to his charms. “Come on, you’re done in here,” he said, keeping the pressure as CJ pulled himself up again. “You’re going to hole up in the conference room down the hall, and then, if we find anything incriminating, I’m putting you on copier duty.” Dick’s tone left no room for argument. CJ thought about making a quip, something about being the boss here, but at the moment he was expending a lot of energy just to walk a straight line out of the room. With Dick providing a steady hand, the two made their way out of the lab and down the hall, entering a small conference room at the end. For a moment Dick disappeared, then he was back with two armloads of files, setting them roughly on the table before settling into a chair opposite CJ.
The two of them dug into the files, furiously flipping pages, separating things into two piles – relevant information and irrelevant information. Every now and then CJ would grab an armload of the relevant files and walk stiffly down toward the copier at the end of the hall, and with each trip he felt a little stronger. Through their united efforts, the stack of evidence grew, and after an hour and a half or so, they had enough information to piece together a damning story. Dick still brought in files, though at that point CJ found that his x-ray vision had returned, and they were able to go through things a lot more quickly than before. By the time the file cabinets and desk drawers had been completely sorted through, CJ was confident that their case was made.
He leaned back in his chair and chuckled lightly as he looked at the pile of evidence they had accumulated. “I shouldn’t laugh, but…I was joking with my Dad the other night, after Jen and I saw the new Superman movie. Kryptonian crystals do some absolutely insane things in that movie – a single one grows into a furnished fortress, provides records and acts as an entertainment system…silly stuff, really. So Dad’s there in the suit at the after party, and I start giving him crap about this, and how I need to start studying kryptonian crystals, ha-ha, since apparently they are capable of anything. Not realizing, of course, that I got a little too close to the truth on that one.”
“I have to see this movie,” Dick said.
“You do,” CJ said. “It’s the real and true fake story of his life, you know. And how he met Mom. I’m not mentioned, and I’m not sure if I should be offended or thankful.”
“Well if I don’t have to see your fake mug there, I guess that seals the deal.” They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, surveying the scene, decompressing. It gave all the research some time to sink in and come together, and at least, CJ was pretty sure that he knew what the story was.
“So, correct me if I’m wrong, but here’s what I’ve got,” CJ started, pulling over their evidence. “The lead researcher on this project is a guy named John Faulkner. He was a new employee when my little energy competition started up, but he had an idea based on an old news story he heard early in his career.” CJ held up a copy of the Daily Planet Metallo story, found in the background research files.
“A cyborg powered by kryptonite, a rock whose entire supply has been under lock and key exclusively at STAR labs for decades,” Dick said.
“That’s not exactly true,” CJ said. “Every now and then a piece makes it into circulation from Lex Luthor’s old stash, like that time 5 years ago when the Zarates tried to take over Metropolis.” Dick gave him a questioning glance. Apparently that wasn’t big news in Gotham, and the kryptonite element of the story never actually made it to the news in Metropolis, either, now that he thought about it. CJ waved his hand. “I’ll tell you that one later. The point is, kryptonite is nearly impossible to get a hold of. Which would seemingly mean the death knell of Faulkner’s idea, but having previously worked for Federal government laboratories around the time that Jason Trask was terrorizing my grandparents and their neighbors, he was aware of Bureau 39 and the fact that the first kryptonite specimens came from Smallville. So that meant he knew where to find more.”
“Or he would, if other people hadn’t beaten him to the punch. Bureau 39 found plenty there, Lex Luthor found more, and STAR labs quietly cleaned up the area a long time ago, though apparently he was still able to get his hands on that sliver you encountered in the desk.”
“Sliver?” CJ said. “How big are we talking?” Dick help up his fingers about an inch apart, then looped his forefinger around into the crook of his thumb so that the inside diameter was only a fraction of an inch. CJ made a face. “Guess I’m a lightweight.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Dick said, and CJ nodded. “But as much as that little piece bothered you, the vials of it along the wall didn’t seem to do all that much.”
“Because it’s synthetic,” CJ said. He leafed through the evidence stack and found the notes summarizing the research goals. “They recreated the molecular structure, got something that was chemically the same as the real stuff, but there’s just something about traveling through the depths of space, gathering up cosmic rays and whatnot, that gives the real stuff its kick. And you can’t synthesize that in a lab. But I don’t think he knew that.”
Dick picked up the journal they found. “Between that and the fact that you didn’t carry the project forward, the crazy really starts to seep into the margins of this thing. If I read this right, the idea of drawing power from kryptonite had been knocking around in his head since he first saw that Metallo story, and by the time you actually let him explore it, it had become an obsession. That the project was a bust probably set him off.”
“It’s not that his theory failed, it’s more that he couldn’t get the right materials. So the Bureau 39 report gave him the idea to look for the next best thing: red kryptonite. It might not be as potent as the green, but it had to be better than the synthetic. By the way, did you know that Laura got a shot of the red stuff earlier today?”
Dick put down the journal and gave CJ a concerned gaze. “I didn’t hear about any destruction near the University,” he said.
“It wasn’t like that, thank goodness,” CJ said, smiling with amusement. “She was, ah, let’s say drunk. And VERY affectionate toward her poor boyfriend.”
“Time out,” Dick said, leaning forward in his chair. “Boyfriend? This is a new one.”
“Right? I’m actually proud of her for letting her defenses come down and take the chance on love. I like to think I had something to do with it, but the red kryptonite might end up helping the cause.”
Dick narrowed his eyes. “Who is it? That skinny kid with the mop?”
CJ’s smile became lopsided, and he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Why Dick, it’s almost as if you’ve been keeping an eye on her. I couldn’t even tell you if she has any friends, much less describe them, but you seem to know exactly who he is.”
Dick shrugged and tried his best to appear nonchalant, but CJ wasn’t fooled. “I like to make sure she’s okay. Sue me.”
“I think she can probably take care of herself. And…” CJ gestured toward Dick. “it gives you a little bit of the Creepy Uncle vibe, if I’m honest.” CJ’s smile made it clear he was kidding, but Dick had a tendency to take his teasing too literally. This time, though, he just smiled and shook his head, taking the ribbing in stride.
“It just means I care enough to check up on her. You could try it,” he said.
“I care,” CJ said with mock offense. “She’s my babysitter. I lose that and my social calendar gets even smaller than it is right now.”
Dick laughed lightly. “Can we get back to where we were, please? Red kryptonite.”
“Right,” CJ said. “So, the known specimens of red kryptonite have all been put into orbit by my dad, but there hasn’t been a whole lot of effort made into locating more. Enter John Faulkner and a book on setting up shell companies. Which he did on my company’s dime, might I add.”
“So here’s your Smallville connection. His shell company…”
“Which will be mine once I get this to the lawyers,” CJ muttered.
“… bought a plot of land out there, the one where your Dad was found. And that land will end up being Bruce’s, just watch.” At CJ’s heavy sigh, he continued. “But it didn’t pay off, because no red kryptonite was found. And the crazy increases.”
“So he figures the next thing to do is find the people that sent in the original sample. And, surprise surprise, finds one of them right here in Gotham.”
Dick taps on the journal. “Catherine Schuster Willey. The smoking gun is right here.”
“If I had to guess, she was rather attached to her red K, which had been turned into jewelry a long time ago. And despite the fact that she had been pawning most of her other jewelry to pay off debts, no amount of money was making her sell those, so our man snapped.”
“Going to the cops with this stuff yet tonight?” Dick asked, and CJ hazarded a glance at his watch. It was after 3 AM now. He commissioner would be long gone, and he wasn’t sure that he necessarily trusted the overnight crew to keep it safe until he came in. Besides, CJ wanted to put it directly into the commissioner’s hands himself. And he would like to get a little more information on his erstwhile employee in the meantime.
“I have a little more digging to do,” he said. “I don’t know as much about this guy as I’d like. Tomorrow, I think.” CJ gathered up the evidence pile, then pushed his chair away from the table and stood with a slight groan. “I kinda want to be back to 100 percent before suiting up again, too,” he said, garnering an appreciative nod from Dick, who also stood. “Thanks for helping me tonight,” CJ said.
Dick smiled as he walked around the table and gave CJ a clap on the shoulder. “My pleasure,” he said. “It’s nice having someone to talk to sometimes.”
“Once this gets wrapped up, I think Batman’s going to take some time off. Hope you don’t mind. I know it puts a lot on you, but with the baby due in a couple weeks….”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dick said, his smile soft and sincere. “Just…I take gratitude payments in the form of dinner.”
“Jen will be glad to see you again. Stop by anytime.” CJ smiled, and together they walked out of the room and turned off the lights. They parted company at the elevators, Dick leaving the building quietly through secret channels that he had been shown decades ago, CJ detouring to the security office. He wanted to make sure that if Mr. Faulkner came into work that day, he wouldn’t be allowed to access his office or any company files. In a perfect world, he would be detained, but there was no warrant out for him yet. But soon, very soon, there would be, and the red kryptonite saga would be put behind him once and for all.
***
Laura stood on the green in front of the building where Matt was currently attending class, wondering how the previous week had become an apology tour for her. First she had apologized to Matt for chasing him off after they finally had their first kiss, now she was getting ready to apologize for accosting him at his apartment, and for basically begging him to sleep with her. Given the decidedly mixed signals she had been sending out lately, she wouldn’t blame him if he told her to take a hike and decided that he didn’t want anything to do with her. He had no way of knowing that her actions the day before had been out of her control, and there was no way of telling him without either revealing too much or inventing some story that was decidedly embarrassing. But she cared enough about him to at least extend the olive branch, try to repair the damage and get things back to where they were before she ran into red kryptonite.
A part of her was angry with her brother for giving her the assignment that lead to her exposure, but there had been no way for him to know that Anne Willey was in possession of kryptonite. It was also hard to be too mad at him when he took time off work the day before to rescue her from further embarrassment and look after her until the effects of the rock wore off. After driving her to the manor, he had decided that she should hang out with him down in the Batcave until she sobered up, not wanting her to be around Jenny and Adam if there was even a small possibility that the kryptonite could cause her to become violent. It turned out that there had been no reason to worry, and they had passed the time playing board games and telling stories, and she was pretty sure she told him some things that she hadn’t intended to, and she wondered if those things would wind up as fodder for some future ribbing on his part. After the effects of the rock wore off, she spent some time in the mansion with her favorite nephew, taking up CJ’s offer of supper, before finally heading back to her apartment and attempting to get some studying done.
Now here she was, waiting for Matt to finish up his first class, hoping that her actions from the day before hadn’t scared him away. It only took a few moments for the class to get out, and soon Matt was walking out of the building. She walked swiftly to intercept him, and couldn’t help but be heartened by his expression as he finally caught sight of her.
“Laura Kent, is that really you?” he asked, locking eyes with her and searching them for a long moment before nodding with satisfaction. “You’re back.”
“I’m back. Not that I ever went anywhere. I just…wasn’t entirely in control. Sorry for making an ass of myself yesterday.”
He chuckled lightly and ducked his head. “Don’t apologize. I could tell something wasn’t right. What was that anyway?”
She shrugged. “An…allergic reaction, let’s say, to something I ran into yesterday.”
“That’s some allergic reaction,” he said, and she made a face and shrugged again, trying to downplay it. He didn’t pursue the issue, and they fell into step together. “Do you remember much? You seemed a little drunk, and I know I tend to miss a lot from the nights when I have a little too much to drink.”
She thought for a moment, summoning images from the night before. It was hard to remember what she had said exactly or how he had reacted. Mostly she remembered what she had felt, what she had seen, and the music. There was something about that music that imprinted on her brain, making the memories from when it was playing more tangible. She could still smell him, feel him pressed against her, and feel his cheek on her head. It just felt right in way she couldn’t explain to be with him like that, listening to her songs and his, and she was grateful that those memories survived. “I remember our song,” she said with a smile, and she could tell that he was almost relieved at that. “I remember dancing,” she said, resisting the urge to reach out and grab his hand. She sighed. “I also remember throwing myself at you, and the fact that you were enough of a gentleman to not take advantage of that. So, thanks.”
He blushed lightly. She could tell that he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite willing to get the words out. “Honestly, even after all the weirdness and,” he took a deep breath, “the close call, it actually was nice to spend an afternoon with you. I had a pretty good time, all things considered. It was also…educational.”
She looked at him curiously as they continued to walk along the sidewalk. What could he mean by that, she wondered, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the thought. All of a sudden, the sounds of screams punctuated the air around them, and a rush of people started running toward them from the opposite direction. Laura and Matt stopped, looked at each other, then started fighting through the crowd to see what was going on. Soon enough, they could see an older man standing near the entrance to the building in front of them. Clutched in his hand and pointing toward the ground was a gun, the sun glinting off its polished steel. People were running frantically in all directions away from him, but Laura and Matt stood rooted in their spots. She knew he wouldn’t flee from what could be one of the biggest stories to hit campus, and he would probably be protective of her, which meant that she had to be an observer in this, at least for the moment. The man in front of them walked slowly, as if in a trance, toward the building, raising the gun as he went. He was muttering something, and Laura cocked her head to the side and listened intently to what it was, her eyes growing wide as she heard him say the name of Anne Willey. Laura looked frantically into the building, noticing Anne in the hallway just inside the door, apparently oblivious to what was going on outside.
Laura bit her lip and looked around. She assumed that this was the man who killed Anne’s mother, and that he knew about the earrings. She had no doubt that he would kill again to get what he wanted, and a quick glance told her that Anne wouldn’t be able to give him that, at least not right away. Which meant that there could possibly be blood, and at the moment there was no way for her to stop it. There were enough people around that someone would notice of she just disappeared, and with Matt nearby, she couldn’t do anything anyway, not without somehow distracting him. She stared at the ground and frantically went through a dozen scenarios, the world around her fading from consciousness as she did.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand coming up and resting on her shoulder. Startled, she saw Matt standing there, his expression calm and gentle. “Go,” he said, causing her eyebrows to knit together.
“Go?” she rasped. He probably wanted her to get to safety, and she couldn’t blame him. It might actually be best to take his advice, she thought, since it might meant that she could get somewhere that could allow her to disappear unseen. Matt nodded and gave the barest of smiles, and what he said next caused sheer horror to knife through her.
“Save the day,” he said simply. There was no accusation or anger in his voice, just steady intensity, but the shock coursed through her all the same, keeping her from doing anything. “The cops won’t be able to get here in time to stop him, and neither will Batman. But you can.”
Laura was aware that her eyes had grown entirely too wide, her breathing ragged, as she gaped at him. Maybe he wasn’t saying what she thought he was, maybe there was some way to convince him that he was wrong, that she was entirely unable to do whatever it was he thought she could do. “I…can’t,” she managed to say, and his other hand came up and grabbed her other shoulder.
“Be the hero you’re destined to be,” he said.
She looked at him for what seemed like forever before it dawned on her that there would be no talking him out of this. He knew, somehow he knew, and he wasn’t running away. He wasn’t condemning her, wasn’t angry at her, wasn’t recoiling from her touch. Instead he was trying to spur her to action, but she could only think of one thing.
“How…?” she asked, which only caused his smile to widen.
“You had a conversation with your dead brother through the wall of my apartment,” he said, and the hazy memory from the day before finally made its way back into her conscious. She cringed slightly, but the sound of a scream very nearby jarred her out of her introspection, and she knew it was time to act. Without another thought, she looked at Matt and gave him a nonverbal apology. Notch another one for the apology tour, she thought dryly, hoping that he understood. Then she jogged toward the darkened gap between buildings and took off.
In a split second she had changed and was at the gunman’s side, snatching the gun out of his hand and crushing it. She took a moment to look back toward Matt, taking note of the stunned expression on his face, before roughly picking up the criminal and hauling him away from campus and toward the nearest police precinct. Then, after depositing him with the cops and quickly explaining who the man was and what he’s done, she shot into the sky. The earth had shifted under her feet, and she needed to get as far away from Gotham City as she could.
