Dropped home

"So." Aaron smiled. "That was fun."

Cassandra's cheeks flushed. "Sorry."

They stood in front of his apartment doorway, waiting for nothing in particular. After a deep line of questioning, the Bat Family let him go. He promised them he wouldn't expose their identities. Exhausted, injured, still in the middle of the mission and urged by Cassandra, they let him go. Aaron Reigner was allowed to walk free while possessing their greatest secret.

Was it luck? Circumstances? Probably a combination of the two. Every time he brought up his daughter, he could see their resolve weaken. Aaron didn't know everyone's backstory but he knew most–if not all–didn't have parents. A psychological weak point he was very subtle in poking.

Stephanie Brown and Dick Grayson were the most understanding. The kindest and most helpful. They offered him food and a change of clothes, which he accepted. Standing in the cold, unforgiving temperature of the Gotham Clock Tower in sweatpants was not fun.

Tim Drake and Duke Thomas were nice enough too. Professional but human. Batman and Batwoman were the two who he had to keep his toes around. They were ruthless, prodding him with question after question, confirming his testimony several times over. Talia and Lady Shiva never approached him but Katana did. She came up to him, guided her gaze from his toes to his face, and then left him alone.

The ghostly muteness of Katana was chilling. He wished she would have spoken at least once. A word, a greeting, something. Instead, he was left with the image of a badass swordswoman in a tight, sexy outfit.

Catwoman swung by as well. Seeing him, she smiled, pretended she didn't know him, and innocently asked about the situation. Subtly, unbeknownst to the World's Great Detective, she manipulated and amended Aaron's story. She chose her words like a stray cat needing food, demonstrating her sympathy through her body language and the undertones of her sentences. The Batman's greatest strength and weakness was his compassion, particularly to those close to him. Consequently, Catwoman could control him like he was her pet, the same way Aaron controlled her. It was a cycle of manipulation forever in his favour.

Aaron suspected only Talia al Ghul noticed, or perhaps she was just naturally antagonistic towards Catwoman due to her closeness to Batman. The tension between the former lovers of Batman was palpable. Either way, Talia was dangerous and mean. Aaron counted it as a blessing that he didn't have to converse with her.

"I wished I could have gone on the Batmobile again," Aaron commented.

"Hot but cool, right?" Cassandra joked, grinning. He nodded. He didn't mind calling over a taxi but it seemed anti-climactic. Going from a hundred million dollar car to a Toyota Camery was the downgrade of the century. He couldn't help the frown on his face as he paid the fee.

"Also," he glanced at the halls to confirm no one was listening, "Batman's voice was just as deep as you said it was. No, deeper."

"Told you."

"And his shoulders…how is he so broad?"

"Training."

"It's ridiculous."

"He's Batman."

Laughter ensued.

In spite of his complaints, Aaron would never forget what he saw today. The battles, the Batmobile, the taxi ride home. The latter was unexpectedly carved into his core memories. The streets of Gotham had been hollow as if everybody had ghosted the town. Conflicts and threats of bombing had happened and rendered the streets devoid of humanity but not like this. Leviathan truly embodied the image of a leviathan, a ferocious, unyielding sea creature of many tendrils. The working class, the ****, the homeless–they were all fighting against the Gotham regime while manipulated by the strings of Leviathan.

"Your mother was nice," Aaron continued, wanting to hear her voice, wanting to comfort her. "Like you said, she isn't totally unsalvageable."

He fostered a moment of vulnerability in her. She chuckled, hand over her mouth, and her eyes wrinkled. "Agreed." Pause. Curiosity flickered in her eyes. A suspicion–no, a fear. "Um, about your daughter…"

"She's the reason I can't leave Gotham," Aaron explained hurriedly. "She and I have been together for a while but she often goes to visit her blood relatives." He was just making shit up and trying to salvage his lies. "I didn't mean for the two of you to never meet but…" His jaw clenched and he put his hands in his pockets. "No offence, but there isn't a woman in the world interested in a single dad. A guy with a kid. A guy with baggage."

Emotions bubbled out of him like a volcano. It was like it was natural, like he was telling the truth. Cassandra's eyes softened and for a moment Aaron thought he was making the correct choice. He was lying for a good reason.

But then it hit him. The reason why he could lie so well in front of the living lie detector wasn't because he was avoiding the truth. No, what he was saying, what he was admitting…it was a reflection of himself.

A guy with baggage.

A guy with no future.

That was what he thought of himself.

He inhaled sharply. "I'm sorry, Cassandra. For lying."

And that was the truth.

"It's okay." She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. "I forgive you." Her warmth was like a fire in a winter storm. He wanted to pull himself deeper into it.

He did. Aaron hugged her tightly. He could feel her stiffen in surprise but otherwise accepted the passion. She was eager to hug him too, it seemed. To smell him, to have him in her arms, uninjured and ****.

'Fuck…'

Aaron locked his hands together. Tight.

'I really think I'm in love with her.'

But rather than admit those feelings, he pulled away. Their arms were latched onto each other, craving the touch. Reluctantly, Aaron broke it off and took out his keys.

'Next time, we'll have that conversation. Right now, I need to see Chloe.'

"See you, Cass."

Cassandra Cain smiled sadly. "Bye..."

He opened his apartment door and went inside. The thud behind him twisted his heart.

Amongst the darkness in his apartment, there was a single light bulb emanating from the living room. "Chloe," Aaron called out. "Chloe, are you alright?"

No response. A disturbing void formed in his stomach. A distinct smell hung in the air that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He took off his shoes. One step forward. Two steps forward. He had been gone for…what? Seven, eight hours?

'She should still be here unless–'

He sensed someone. Four bodies, three breathing. The fresh smell of electricity crackled.

His blood ran cold. There, seated at his couch, was a trio he never thought he would see again. A trio he never imagined would be sitting languidly at his boring red couch. Angel Breaker, the Manhunter, and one last villain. A male donned in a sleek and intimidating black bodysuit fitting him like a second skin. His visor purple and V-shaped; his emotions, identity, and intentions indiscernible...

"GrEeTiNgS."

…especially because he had an **** Chloe on his lap.

"YoU…must be Aaron Reigner," the Manhunter stated. The glitch in his voice box had suddenly dissipated. "It is an honour to meet you at last. We are Leviathan."