Chapter Text
Tim Drake took a sip of his coffee, burning his tongue on the too-hot liquid. In lieu of taking a second one, he leaned forwards over the Batman’s shoulder, craning his neck to get a better glimpse at the screen of the Batcomputer.
"Careful with that drink." Bruce warned, but his heart wasn’t in it. He remained silent as Tim watched the video, only speaking up after a few minutes. "Give me initial impressions. What do you think?"
Tim frowned, taking a more cautious sip of his coffee. “I... don’t really know.” All he could see was a streetcam view of a building on fire. It had been burning long enough that it was reduced to its bare-bones, making it unrecognizable. “What am I looking at here?”
“Hm. Maybe this can help.” Bruce typed something on the keyboard, rewinding the video to the previous day’s. Standing in the burning building’s spot, was–
“Shit.” Tim was too shocked to even care about monitoring his language.
“Language.” Bruce said gruffly. “But shit indeed. Now do you understand why I’m showing you this?”
“Yeah but… what’s the point? Why would someone set the Joker’s hideout on fire?”
“There are many people who’d want to start something with the Joker.” Bruce’s expression was more serious than it had ever been as he looked back at Tim. “But, I can’t think of anyone who would actually act on it. Attacking his base is a death wish.”
"His former base, now." Tim corrected, only half-paying attention. He tapped a rhythm on Bruce's chair, trying to think. Only someone extremely powerful or extremely stupid would dare do something like this. “This isn’t good, B. Someone’s trying to start something, something bad.”
Bruce sighed, sounding much older and wearier than his 36 years of age called for. "You’re right, Tim. This isn’t good."
They both sat in silence, watching, as the building collapsed in on itself in a shower of sparks.
Roxanne Lalonde adjusted the rearview mirror, looking at her reflection carefully. "Rosie, is my lipstick on correctly?"
Rose, her tweenage daughter currently curled up in the passenger seat of the car, didn't even bother to glance up from her phone before responding. "Yes, mom." She punctuated the statement with a roll of her eyes.
Ouch. Classic disinterested teenager. Roxanne barely withheld a grimace at the coldness of the response, but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t fault Rose for holding a grudge after all Roxanne had put her through. Instead, she continued appraising herself in the mirror. Hm, her eyeshadow needed some touching up.
"Good. I want to look my best for Mr. Wayne." She said as she dug through her purse for her makeup.
Rose paused in her texting, finally looking up. "Wayne? Bruce Wayne? As in the billionaire?" She sounded legitimately shocked — something that didn't happen often. "Do you mean to say that you brought us to New Jersey to meet a... celebrity?"
"Well, of course, sweetie!" Roxanne smiled brightly, just a little pleased to know something her daughter didn't. "We've been driving south for 3 hours and you decided to ask that now? Weren't you curious why we left New York?" She teased gently.
Rather than joke back, Rose grew tense, stiffening. "I was curious," her voice dripped with ice, "but I had just assumed that this was one of your work trips. My apologies for that."
Roxanne’s smile faltered but, not one to give up easily, she continued to try to diffuse the tension. "How perceptive, Rosie pie. This is a work trip!" Each word was infused with enough sugary sweetness to drown a cat. From the disgusted look on Rose's face, it didn't seem to help.
Quickly, Roxanne continued on. "WayneTech is interested in Skaianet's technology, so they asked me to come present some things."
"I see." With all of her questions answered, Rose went back to looking at her phone.
Roxanne’s smile dropped in the reflection. It was difficult, sometimes, but she had to remind herself that it was better than what they had before.
Before... she paused, the hand holding her eyeshadow brush trembling. She didn't like to think about what she had put her daughter through.
To put it lightly, Roxanne was a pretty terrible mother. Oh, there were confounding factors: it was difficult being a single mom and working full time. That, combined with the various personal issues she always struggled with meant that becoming an addict was a foregone conclusion.
But, try as she might to pretend otherwise, Roxanne knew where the blame lay. She was the problem. She had just been too weak to deal with the reality of her situation, unable to handle the responsibilities that she had chosen. With no other options let, she let herself go off the wagon.
The worst part was that throughout all of it, Rose had been the one taking care of her.
She glanced at her daughter, still engrossed in texting. Rose looked happy for once, a small smile on her face. Roxanne’s heart melted.
The problem wasn't that she didn't love her daughter — one might say she loved Rose too much, that she cared too deeply and worried too much.
She was so afraid of losing Rose that, in her own selfishness, she had almost let her daughter slip away. Roxanne shivered. It’s alright, she reminded herself, Rose was safe (at least for now). She would never have to witness a situation like that again.
"Mom?" Rose said, sounding a bit worried.
Roxanne snapped back to the present. She couldn't afford to get lost in her memories: she had a meeting in a few minutes that she couldn't be late to! "Sorry, sweetie pie, I was just thinking." Roxanne flashed her pearly white teeth, making sure to spritz herself with a healthy dose of perfume. "What's up?"
"Nothing, it’s just... what am I going to be doing while you're in your meeting?"
Oops. Roxanne knew that she had forgotten something. "Well, uh," She could see understanding dawn on Rose’s face, and quickly searched for a solution. "Doesn't Bruce Wayne have a son who's around your age? I could ask him to meet you!"
Rather than help, that only made Rose’s face fall further. "Ask? You— you didn't even plan anything before?" She crossed her arms, attempting to seem angry but only looking hurt.. "I see how it is. And what did you intend for me to do? Just sit in a car while you went off and got drunk with a billionaire?"
That made Roxanne flinch. "Oh, sweetie, I'm... I'm not going to drink."
Rose raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced.
Roxanne grimaced but continued apologizing. "And I'm so, so sorry. You know, it was a last minute decision to bring you—"
"Then why even bring me at all?" Rose sounded more defeated than accusatory, a clear sign that Roxanne had done something wrong somewhere.
"I wanted you here, Rosie, I swear!" She glanced at the clock. Shit. She began to gather all of her things up, shoving items into her purse. "Actually— here, just come with me. If Bruce Wayne's kid is busy then you can go exploring or something. It'll be good for you to be out of that house for a change."
Rose sighed, giving her phone one last longing glance before slipping it into her pocket. “You’re right, I suppose. It would be interesting, to talk with someone as accomplished as Tim Drake.” Although she claimed it would be interesting, Rose’s tone was completely dry. She had never reminded Roxanne more of her father than when she was sassing someone.
“It’ll be great, hon.” Roxanne kicked open her door, squinting as she stepped out into the sunlight. “Come on, let’s go.”