two | memory (two kids, you and me)

[bamboozlement]

Night - that’s when you do your work in this stoplight-colors uniform, eyes and identity concealed behind a red domino mask. You’re out patrolling on your own tonight, and the sounds of an altercation ring out from the darkened alley below, sounds you find all too familiar. Three well-muscled men - thugs - have a fourth man cornered on the ground; he’s younger, unruly red hair tied back with a white bandanna, either too drunk or too apathetic to fight back as the other three take turns kicking him down over and over again.

“... Call yourself a superhero? You dirty lowlife drunk …” one says, showing the bottom of his boot to the side of the redhead’s face. This is your cue to jump in. You call out from the rooftop above with a easy-going tone that manages to still mean business.

“That, coming from a guy wanted for assault in three different counties?” The thug looks up in surprise, trying to discern who’s speaking, and you work quickly, hurling a bat-shaped boomerang at his head, knocking him out and to the ground. The second man you take out with a five-ball bola thrown and wrapped around his neck as you leap to the ground, not missing a beat in your banter: “They really don’t make anonymous thugs like they used to, huh? Look how easy you break.” You land next to the last of the thugs and crack your elbow right into the side of his head, and he too slumps to the ground, unconscious.

You step forward out of the shadows toward the redhead kneeling on the pavement in bewilderment, a triumphant smile curving your mouth. “There. That’s better,” you say. “You’re Roy Harper, aren’t you?” (You know exactly who he is.) “I’m Robin. Version two, actually - although I bet you could figure that out on your own.”

“Why,” Roy asks, eyes turned up on you, “why are you helping me?”

“They took these from you back at the bar,” you say, holding out a bow and quiver of arrows for Roy to reclaim. “I thought you’d want them returned. My predecessor told me once that you were a good friend of his, before you fell off the wagon. I wanted to let you know I’m here if you ever need a friend.”

Roy takes his weapons and pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head. “I don’t need friends,” he protests, a slight slur blurring the edges of his words, “friends just let you down.” You smile knowingly, because you’ve said the same thing in the not-too-distant past.

“We all need friends, Roy.” You produce a grappling hook gun from your belt and aim it at the nearby rooftop. “You change your mind, just come find me.” You fire the gun and follow the wire up into the night, leaving Roy standing in the alley below.

“I’ll be waiting.”

audio; un: j.doe

[and not too long after that memory broadcasts, jason's voice follows, sharp and shaking with rage at the intrusion:]

Get. Out. Of my head. NOW.

Comments

[gristle]

Not really. His symbol is a spider. His suit is blue and red.

[A beat.]

He's probably from a different world than you then.

[bamboozlement]

Not too surprising, given this place. [jason goes quiet for a sec, debating whether to bring this up. but he's curious.] You ever hear about a guy who dresses up like a bat?

[gristle]

No, not a guy who dresses like a bat. A guy who dresses up like a mole and has a partridge sidekick? I've seen that on tv before.

[bamboozlement]

Don’t think I know them.

[and that probably deserves a follow-up, huh.]

The guy who dresses like a bat - I used to work with him. That’s why I was wearing that uniform in the memory you saw.

[gristle]

Used to? You still don't even with the bat-shaped thing?

[bamboozlement]

Nah. We split up a long time ago - irreconcilable differences, you might say.

[also, jason was killed, and batman found a new robin in tim drake.]

I tried to go back to work with him a couple of times, but ... well, you know what they say about not being able to go home again, right? Didn’t work out.

[gristle]

That sucks.

[bamboozlement]

[he laughs quietly, bitterly.]

Yeah. You could say that. But it’s fine. [it’s not. and it probably will never be fine.] We never could see eye to eye about how to handle things.

[gristle]

Why not?

[bamboozlement]

‘Cause he thinks the best way to handle criminals is by scaring ‘em. And I know that doesn’t work.

[gristle]

Yeah. I can see that. People overcome their fears all the time.

[she is a case in point.]

[bamboozlement]

Exactly. Or maybe they were too insane to be afraid in the first place. And if fear is all you’ve got and it doesn’t work, what then?

[gristle]

Then you gotta go to the next level to stop the bad guy.

[Bev gets it.]

[bamboozlement]

Yeah. You do. And that’s what he’d never listen to me about.

[not even after jason was killed by the joker. not even after damian, his own blood son, was killed.]

So I work on my own now. I’m done playing by his rules.

[gristle]

It's gotta get lonely though.

[bamboozlement]

[he sighs quietly.]

I’m used to it. Been on my own most of my life.

[gristle]

That sucks.

[bamboozlement]

Yeah ... well, it’s probably best for everyone this way.

[gristle]

Okay, I mean I guess what works for you, but I'm better with my friends.

[bamboozlement]

[she should have friends. she’s still just a kid.]

It’s good that you have friends. And that they make you better.

[wasn’t that true with roy and kori? with bizarro and artemis? jason had been perhaps the best version of himself when they were around.]

[gristle]

Yeah. I miss em here. There's not that many kids around. Just Gyda.

[bamboozlement]

[oof. that’s fine, jason didn’t need his heart.]

You could always try being friends with some of the older people here, too.

[gristle]

Oh! It's fine. I am. Ubbe and Aaron and Eric and Richard and Alex and Carol and Ivar and stuff... they're my friends too.

But they're not kids, you know? They don't do kid stuff.

Well... okay, Ivar does...

[bamboozlement]

[jason chuckles quietly.]

So what counts as “kid stuff” for you?

[gristle]

Like... you know. Playing games. Doing dumb stuff.