Strangers In The Night V2

by GreyW01

Summary:

Miles Rivers escaped his abusive household, leaving him homeless at eighteen. But eight years later, he’s got a job and a home and is trying to get his college degree. Unfortunately, the past has a way of always creeping up on you. People he thought he’d never see again came back into his life. All that he thought he had overcome has returned to haunt him. Will he be able to succeed again? Or will the new challenges and old addictions consume him once more?

This story mainly follows the plot of the Batman 2022 movie, though everything is stretched out and less fast-paced. There are also additional plot points and drama because of the character’s own mess that follows alongside the main plot.

There are two versions of this story. Version one follows a female reader, while version two follows a male character/reader. BUT the first version is under editing and has yet to be completed, and it won’t be until I finish this one. So, read version one at your discretion.

Notes:

Each chapter is named after a song that relates to it. The song for chapter 1 is Gotham Love by BAKGROUND; the song doesn't have any words because this chapter is mostly an introduction to everything. The rest of the chapters will be more plot-heavy and plot-focused, so don't expect immediate romance. I mention topics (not in this chapter) that can be triggering, so read carefully.

Chapter 1: Gotham Love

I looked out the bus window and watched the busy city streets and cars pass by. No matter what time of day it is in Gotham, there’s always some part lurking with others. I lean back in the seat, trying to get comfortable as I watch people enter and leave the bus every few minutes. The stop to my apartment is about forty-five minutes away, which is the unfortunate part of my job. Being a construction worker always takes me far from my home, and on top of that, my car needs to be taken to the mechanic. So I can’t easily get to work, I usually have to take multiple buses to get to work and timing all of it is a pain in my ass. I’m also trying not to think of the cost of fixing my car, I’m already a bit behind on my rent, and I'm trying to continue my college courses online. 

 

My stop finally comes into sight, and I pull the yellow cord to get off the bus. I clutch my bag and jacket tighter while I walk towards the apartments, the weather already biting in November. I make my way up the four flights of stairs, as the elevator is unfortunately always out of order. I fish out my keys from my pocket and open my door. I was immediately greeted by my three cats, whom I found on the streets. I hung my bag and jacket on the coat hanger and crouched down. I let the cats brush against my hands and jump into my arms as I smiled warmly at them. My day suddenly doesn't seem too bad when I come home to them. I stood back up, grabbed more cat food from the cabinets, and poured it into their bowls. After that, I cleaned their water bowls and refilled them with water. 

 

I collapsed onto the couch with a sigh and looked over the mail on my coffee table. I made enough today to pay the bills, but the car is an entirely different issue. While deep in thought, I heard a rapid series of knocks on my door, and I quickly checked the time; it read 12:35 AM.  I got up, wary of who was at my door at this late hour. I made my way toward my door and looked through my peephole; I sighed, relieved, realizing it was only Gordon. I opened my door and noted the pained expression on his face as well as the imposing man behind him. I ignore the man behind him and focus on Gordon; I rush him inside and sit him on the couch. 

 

“What’s wrong?” I questioned, but Gordon didn’t say a word; he just kept his hand pressed to his stomach. I carefully removed his hand and watched the blood stain his clothing. I shot him a look, but I’ll save my lecture for another time. I rushed to my bathroom and grabbed the medical supplies from my cupboards. Once I returned, I unbuttoned his shirt and inspected his wound. It seemed like he was stabbed shallowly, not shot, as I feared he would be. I disinfected the wound, stitched him up, and smeared some numbing cream on his skin when I was finished. I removed the gloves I had used to fix the wound and helped Gordon get into a comfortable position on the couch. I quickly grabbed some blankets, covered him with them, and adjusted the pillows. 

 

When I turned back around to acknowledge the man that Gordon came with. He was dressed in all black, in some sort of hard-shelled suit. He had cat…or some type of animal ears on the top of his mask. He isn’t someone I've ever seen before, but it seemed like my cats warmed up to him rather quickly. They brushed against his legs and meowed softly, clearly asking for attention. His gaze caught mine, his stare unyielding and, if anything, a bit unnerving. 

 

“They ain’t going to bite. You can pet them.” I said casually as I walked past him to go to the kitchen. I busied myself with heating up leftover food and washing any dishes I might’ve left this morning. I peeked back to look at him, still having a clear view of this strange man in my living room. He stood still and made no noise; he appeared almost awkward as he glanced between Gordon and the cats. He caved and crouched down to pet the cats and give them attention.

 

“What’s your name?” I finally asked the masked man, but he looked slightly startled that I had broken the silence and talked to him.

 

“Batman.” He replied simply as he paused his petting briefly and looked back at me. 

 

“Odd name. You work for Gordon?” I asked just to make conversation as I leaned against the counter and waited for my soup to finish heating up.

 

“We work together.” I raised my eyebrow questioningly at his response and glanced at Gordon to confirm, but he was already dozing off. 

 

“Right. Well, would you like something?” I asked politely. He was connected to Gordon, so I felt inclined to accommodate him.

 

“Coffee, please.” I turned my back to him and filled the kettle with water before flicking it on. I then moved to get my now-heated soup from the microwave. I stood by the counter and took a few sips of my soup as I waited for the water to finish boiling. Once it did, I got coffee powder and mixed it into the water. 

 

“There’s milk in the fridge and sugar on the counter.” I said as I turned back around, but he was a lot closer to me than he previously was. The kitchen suddenly feels small when he’s in it; I watched him hesitantly take the cup of coffee from my hands and take a sip. He doesn’t move back either; he keeps only five feet away from me. I decided not to mention it; the guy seemed awkward on his own as it is. I picked up my bowl of soup again and ate the rest while I watched him sip his coffee. I almost got lost in looking at him; he truly was a peculiar guy, I’d never seen anyone dress the way he did. He also acts oddly; I can’t pinpoint what about his actions and movements throws me off. My train of thought was cut off when I heard a soft, pained groan come from Gordon on the couch. Subsequently, Batman and I looked in his direction. I placed the now-empty bowl in the sink and walked over to him.

 

“How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?” 

 

“No you’ve done enough son. Thank you for going through all this trouble for me.” I shook my head at his response. He’s been there for me since I was practically homeless as a teenager; I owe him more than he thinks. 

 

“You know it’s no trouble at all, it could never be. But I’d like to know what happened, are you in some sort of danger?” I asked gently as I sat beside him.

 

“No! We just ended up on the wrong side of town, and Batman helped me.” My eyebrow quirked up at the usage of “we.” I glanced between the two of them; they sounded like some sort of crime-fighting duo. It’s weird; who is this Batman guy really? “We’re working on a case together, actually, well, more like I’m dragging him along with me.” Gordon continues.

 

“You? Dragging someone along?” I asked incredulously, unable to hide my reaction to his words. Gordon waved me off and sat up shakily. “You’re smart; I’m sure you can help us piece things together about this case.” He suddenly stated, a bit too boldly for my liking. His overestimation of me in front of someone else made me visibly cringe. 

 

“I don’t think…” Batman and I responded at the same time. 

“Nonsense. I won’t say much for now, but the mayor was murdered, and it seems like the one who murdered him is trying to send a message, or possibly multiple, to Batman.” His definition of “much” needs to be examined, but nonetheless, I was still shocked by the revelation. Is it even safe for him to associate with Batman, fella? Wouldn’t this put him in danger? I know he has a thing for giving people a chance, but this feels a bit far. Batman's body language expressed my own doubts; he doesn’t seem too happy about Gordon telling me this information so easily. 

 

“I doubt I could help with a case like that—how about I call your wife?” I said more than I asked to give him no time to object. Before I quickly went over to my home phone and rang her, I still had her number memorized from all the times I called them for help when I had no one. When she picked up, I explained the situation to her, and she was as calm as ever; she was already used to Gordon’s nonsense, I can imagine. 

 

“She’s on her way. Let me help you get to the entrance.” I helped him off the couch, but before I could take another step, Batman materialized beside me. He helped me pick up most of his weight as we carried Gordon down the four flights of stairs. It would’ve been a more torturous experience on my own since the day had already left me exhausted. Once we reached the bottom, Mrs.Gordon was there to help us get him inside the car. Which left Batman and I alone in the front of my apartment complex as we watched the Gordons drive away. He turned his head and watched me silently for a moment while I stared back at him, not hiding that I was looking him over. He really was an odd guy with his unnerving stare, strange outfit, and awkward body language.

 

“I suppose I’ll see you around?” I turned away from him when I replied and made my way back up the stairs, the cold air outside and tiredness finally getting to me. I didn’t hear a verbal reply from him, but it’s not like I was really expecting one. Once I returned inside, I flopped onto my bed and swiftly fell asleep.

 

The amount of sleep I had was insufficient for the amount of work I needed to do today. The city called the company I work for, in need of us to clear debris and rebuild a building that collapsed due to criminal activities. So I spent half of the day helping remove debris using the Bobcat machine and listening to the construction manager yell and reexplain things to everyone on site. Each hour seemed to pass by too slowly for my liking; every time I checked my watch, it felt like it was mocking me. When it was finally my lunch break, the construction manager called me into a room nearby. Despite her constant demands and high expectations, she and I were on amicable terms. She’s one of the few people who really know my past, and yet she treats me no differently and even gave me this job when I desperately needed one.

 

“Take a seat dear.” Her head never turned to me; it was focused on the TV that was playing the news discussing the murder of the mayor. The news didn’t shock me, obviously, and it didn’t give details about what happened or who did it; it was mostly just the commissioner giving a statement to the public. 

“I was invited to the funeral of Mayor Mitchell by his wife.” She sounded somber and continued to stare at the TV even as it no longer displayed the news of the mayor. I stayed silent, unsure of what to say. We are friendly, yes, but we aren’t exactly friends either, for her to feel like she could entrust me with this information.

 

“I will need a plus one…someone to go there with me.” She finally looks at me, but she seems far away. 

“Ahh...ok?” I replied awkwardly and played with a few strands of my hair.

“Would you…Would you go with me? I know it might seem like a bit of an odd request, but we’ve known each other for the past seven years now.” I stare blankly at her, hoping my mouth isn't hanging open from the shock. Even if I had plans, I would feel too guilty to say no to her now. I’m sure she wouldn't have asked me if she had closer people in her life, so I suppose I feel obligated to, and I owed her one, right?

 

“Yeah, it’s no problem. When is it?” She let out a sigh of relief at my response. She then informed me that it would take place this week and that she would message me more information later.

“That isn’t the real business I wanted to talk to you about. Tomorrow, this company will present some reports to Wayne’s Enterprises to get more funding for the company, among other things. I want you to present some of the reports mostly about percentages connected to client satisfaction and improvement in technology, structure, and support.” I should’ve known there was a catch; how am I supposed to come up with reports about percentages in 24 hours, and what’s worse, I’m presenting. No amount of acting can cover the look of desolation on my face. 

 

“Don’t look so discouraged, little one. I’ll send you all the percentages. I just need you to talk to the other construction workers, architects, electricians, HVAC technicians, and past clients to do a survey and recount of their personal experiences. I need statements from them written and said in your report. They also don’t want you up there talking for long, 5 minutes max.” I feel slightly better, but not by much; presenting to important people would surely make anyone uneasy. I exit the room shortly thereafter and spend the rest of the day asking questions and writing down people’s answers. I got home around 9 pm, which is early for me, though I don’t remember eating dinner. I wrote down a check and placed it in an envelope, intending to give it to my landlord since they graciously gave me an extension to pay the rent. 

 

After that, I spent the rest of my time making index cards of the percentages sent to me and included five testimonials from three past clients, one well-known architect, and one of my fellow construction coworkers. I’m already dreading this presentation tomorrow, but luckily, it starts in the afternoon. I went through my college courses online once I finished making the index cards and writing down what I will say tomorrow. I then submitted and completed any assignments due tomorrow before I head to bed. I simply slipped off my clothing, leaving on only my boxers, before getting under the covers and making a mental plan for tomorrow. I will eat, shower, fix my hair, get dressed, and then hand the envelope to my landlord before leaving. I fell into restful sleep, imagining how my day would go tomorrow.

Chapter 2: Let Down

Notes:

Sorry for taking a while again; I'm trying to work on three stories at the same time (I know, a bad idea).

I quickly rushed to get ready, already missing the alarm I had set last night. I put on one of the few suits that I own, which was unfortunately too small and tight in certain places, but it'll have to do. I slip on my socks and shoes and ruffle my hair a bit before grabbing my bag and the envelope from the counter. I drop off the envelope in the office for my landlord to collect before running to catch the bus. I unfortunately had to take multiple buses just to get to the event and barely made it on time. I set my bag down in the assigned seats section for the company I work at and take out the index cards, briefly glancing over the words before I begin to fan myself with them, my anxiety starting to settle in my gut.

 

 I looked around the event, searching for Ms.Raven, the manager who had set me up in the first place. But instead, I recognized one of my coworkers, who was also going to be presenting; she stood next to the stage, had auburn, pin-straight hair, and usually frequented the same areas as me. I walked through the crowds, desperate to walk over to her. On my way towards her, I bumped into someone; it was like hitting a wall from how solid they were. I didn’t spare them a glance, though, and simply mumbled out an apology and hurried over to her. Her eyes went wide while looking in my direction; why was she wearing that expression?

 

“Err, hello, I’m Miles. We usually work in the same team to set the foundations for the construction projects. Sorry, I don’t believe I’ve ever gotten your name before.” It was a little nerve-racking for me to speak to her. I usually don’t make it a habit to converse too often with my coworkers, especially those who aren’t on the same team as me. 

 

“Oh, my name is Lyra, and yes, I know who you are; the manager's favorite. And I believe you bumped into Bruce Wayne without looking apologetic in the slightest.” My thoughts halted, trying to process the words she said to me. The horror must’ve shown on my face as she immediately tried to comfort me. “Maybe he didn’t notice! Or he wasn’t offended, and he’ll forget you by the time you present!” I nodded at her words, trying to process the situation. I don’t particularly care about offending him; I’m more concerned about this interfering with my job. The most I can hope for is that he’s not paying attention to me when I’m presenting. Maybe he was forced to come here and show his face, but he’ll be disinterested once I start.

 

“Hopefully, anyway, do you know when we’re starting?” I looked down at my index cards and shuffled through them, trying to memorize my lines. 

“In a few minutes, once Ms.Raven finishes her speech, she will call our names.” I nod in acknowledgement and look to the right of me, watching Ms.Raven present very passionately using her hands; everyone seemed so engaged, she naturally had that charisma and look that grabbed others’ attention. Once she finished, she turned her head and made eye contact with me. The nausea started to build up. There was no way she was making me go first. 

 

“Our first presenter is Miles River! He’s one of my favorite workers to work with during a project, and I have only ever heard good things about him from clients.” Her voice boomed through the speakers, and I felt myself growing hot again. Isn’t it a bit informal to call me her favorite worker? Now, she’s making me feel embarrassed by her undeserved praise towards me. I make my way up the stage, trying my best not to trip. Once I got to the podium where she stood, she reached for my hand and shook it before walking off the stage. I put my index cards on the podium and adjusted the microphone. 

 

“As Ms.Raven has said, my name is Miles Rivers, I am very grateful to represent the construction company I work for and have worked at for seven years now and bring attention to it,” my breath hitches in the middle of my speech when I make eye contact with Bruce Wayne; his gaze was unyielding almost familiar, “clients and my fellow co workers deserve nothing but the best support and equipment.” I continued my presentation without interruptions, but I couldn’t help but stare at Mr.Wayne. His suit was impeccable, his hair was ruffled and fell gently upon his face, and his expression never changed. I noticed the slight bags under his eyes and the small frown that seemed permanently etched onto his face. I was starting to wonder if this man even blinked. 

 

When I finished, I rushed off the stage, and Ms.Raven returned to present the next person. I made my way to the bar, ignoring looks from some of my coworkers. They fear I only come to these events to drink, but hey, I was forced to come, so I might as well enjoy the bonuses. I sat down and ordered a Cosmopolitan. The bartender gave me a small smile before he began preparing my drink. Soon after, I closed my eyes and heard the drink be placed before me. With my eyes closed, I took sips of my drink as I listened to Lyra present. Her voice wavered as she presented, but she got her point across nonetheless. 

 

“Can I get a ginger ale?” A gruff voice said from beside me as I forced air through my nose as a way to prevent myself from laughing. I honestly shouldn’t be too judgmental, but the lack of food in my system is making me crabby. 

“Do you find that amusing, Mr.Rivers?” I heard a gruff and deep smooth voice ask me, and I chuckled lowly and took a few more sips before looking at the other.

“You,” I replied simply as my eyes trailed over Mr.Wayne’s face now that he was in such close proximity. 

“Me?” He repeated his voice, unwavering from its serious tone. I let myself laugh freely upon seeing his reaction; he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He still had that dissatisfied expression.

 

“Well, I can imagine ordering better things to drink,” I stated boldly, perhaps the alcohol was sinking into my system faster than I’d like, or maybe the day felt too long already. His brows furrowed in confusion, and a new expression adorned his face that I caused.

“I can’t.” His response was simple and conversation-ending unless you’re feeling conversational, which the alcohol is making me out to be.

 

“You can’t imagine a better drink? You’re kidding, right? Are you some kind of health freak?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even control it, and my hands were already raising to order more drinks.

 

“I am. Health is important, and there are no benefits to drinking alcohol,” He stated matter-of-factly, which caused me to roll my eyes and down the two other drinks handed to me by the bartender. 

 

“Fine, but a drink ain’t going to kill ya. Try one.” I said as I slid a new glass that was given to me. He looked skeptical but took a small sip; he didn’t wince like I expected some health nut to.

 

“I still can’t. This drink hasn’t proven that it's better than my ginger ale.” The straight line of his lips quirked up into a small smirk at his reply as he slid my drink back towards me. I shrugged at his reply, even though it did amuse me slightly. I took slower sips of my drink this time as I watched the event carry on. There were different presentations happening, donation tables, and the hustle and bustle of the caterers working. 

 

“Don’t you believe you’ve had enough drinks for the night?” He asked, breaking the silence once more, the hint of worry in his voice surprising. But I hummed in response and returned to sipping my drink, paying him no mind. I could feel his gaze on me, but he made no move to talk, so neither did I. I heard Ms.Raven and another man’s voice near me. I turned the stool and watched them approach us. 

 

“Hello, sunny and Mr.Wayne, enjoying your evening?” Ms.Raven said, sounding cheery as she glanced between the two of us. I suppose I can’t shame her for staring. Mr.Wayne isn’t known for his attendance at these events, nor is he known for trying to engage in conversation with others.

 

“Yes it’s been just fine, Ms…?” 

 

“I’m Miera Raven. I see you're introduced to Miles already.” She said with a grin before turning to the man she brought with her and placing her hand on his arm. “This is Lucius Fox. I’m aware that you two are acquainted with each other.” Bruce nodded in response as he briefly looked over at Lucius.

 

“Just call me Lucius! And Miles, I quite enjoyed your presentation.” He said warmly, almost paternal, as he rested his hand on the small of Ms.Raven’s back.

“Wow, high praise coming from you, Mr.Fox. Thank you.” I felt that his feelings towards me were influenced by his opinion of Ms.Raven, but I’ll accept his compliments nonetheless. Ms.Raven and Mr.Fox then insisted on roping Mr. Wayne and me into their intimate conversation. It was obvious that they were more interested in each other than the actual conversation itself. When they stopped tormenting us and went off on their own, I shared a look with Mr.Wayne, and I could see his lips quirk up just the slightest bit to reveal a genuine smile. “Felt more like their conversation than ours.” He nodded at my words, and we entered a comfortable silence once more. But it ended rather quickly as my phone began to ring with Gordon’s caller ID popping up.

 

“I have to take this, excuse me.” I  went somewhere more private and quieter when I answered his call. He immediately told me to rush to the police station because he’d found more clues and evidence. To say my interest wasn’t piqued would be a lie; cases, especially one as mysterious and riddled as this, always caught my attention. I could feel a rush of excitement at the prospect. Gordon didn’t usually get to work with cases like this. As I was about to reply, he had already hung up, so I did as he said and drove to his location. I hoped I didn’t seem too overdressed when I arrived, but then again, I’m wearing a badly tailored suit. Once I pulled into the station, a young police officer hurried over to me and led me to Gordon. Gordon was not alone; Batman was with him. His suit and demeanor appeared better, more intimidating in the dim light of this underground room. His expression blank and his gaze tense, I mentally shrugged it off and politely nodded when I made my way over to them.

 

“Follow the maze until you find the rat. Bring him into the light, and you’ll find where I’m at. What do you think of that?” Gordon asks me, but something about how he said it told me he already knew the answer; it felt like he was testing me. Why? Is the better question. But more importantly, who’s this Batman guy? Why would they be toying with him in the first place? It appears to me that the person who gave them the riddle wants to be found out by him, though the reasoning is murky. 

 

“Well, you need to help me out a bit; you’re giving me nothing.” I replied in a blunt manner before delving in deeper on my thoughts, “but I’m assuming they don’t mean a literal rat, so an object or maybe a snitch. They want you to expose this person?” Batman hummed at my response and went to look over the other pieces of evidence displayed on the table.

 

“Yes, we’re trying to figure out who the police informant was on the drops case. What about this, though: ‘You Are El Rata Alada’?” It’s obviously Spanish, but the “el” doesn’t make much sense. It could’ve been a mistake, so maybe it’s not a big deal.

 

“You are the winged rat, or you are the rat with wings. I am not sure I haven’t taken Spanish in a while.” I shrug my shoulders as I respond and decide to take a look around myself. “Rat with wings, huh?” Gordon repeated quietly to himself as his eyes followed me.

 

“Mhm, maybe someone high up? Wings might represent some sort of status?” I mused, throwing out any ideas and things I learnt from previous cases. 

 

“What would they gain from exposing this individual?” Batman questioned, though I was unsure if he was genuinely asking me or just speaking aloud. 

 

“Maybe he knows him, but wants you to do all the dirty work for him.” It’s possible, but everything about this case seems so vague so far that any idea thrown out there seems unlikely. Batman simply grunted in response and continued looking over the photos displayed on the table. I walked over to him and briefly looked them over as well. There were different women photographed, some clearly intoxicated, and others appeared wary, almost afraid. Iceberg Lounge, the sign behind the women illuminated brightly, a club perhaps? Before I could think too deeply, my phone began buzzing in my back pocket. 

 

When I took it out, it was an unknown number. How strange. I decided to ignore it, but they kept calling. 

 

“Hello? Who is this?” I finally answer, sounding exasperated.

 

“Hello. I called you to discuss your mother. If you’d like her to stay safe, don’t tell anyone about this call and meet me at the location I am about to give you directions to.” My words die on my tongue; this has to be a sick prank. I scoff, and as I’m about to hang up, I hear my mother’s voice clear as day. I gripped my phone tighter, my eyebrows furrowed, and I shook my head, the disbelief and anger notable on my face. I can see Gordon watching me from the corner of my eye, and I know I have to school my expression.

 

“Of course, sir. Go on.” My mouth moves without me. He tells me where to meet him and how to introduce myself to get past the guards. I listen intently and try to remember all the little details.

“You know how to get to me, now I suggest you hurry over,” he says right before the phone call ends. I held the phone to my ear longer than necessary. Bits of anger wash over me. It’s been seven years since I last saw or spoke to my mother, and now she finds a way to weasel herself into trouble, and I have to come to the rescue. I slowly put my phone in my pocket and tried to hide my facial expression.

 

“I must leave you two, I have something urgent to attend to.” I say mostly to Gordon, but my voice sounds lifeless, all the previous energy quickly taken out of me.

“Is everything alright? Do you need help with anything?” Concern was etched all over Gordon’s face and tone. He tried to get near me to comfort me, but I stepped back.

“It will be. I’ll see you guys another time.” I left quickly and drove down the road a bit faster than the speed limit would allow. I pulled into the location, only now realizing this is the infamous Iceberg Lounge that’s in those photos. I sat in my car and forced myself to laugh because the coincidence of this happening to my mother doesn’t surprise me as much as it should.

Getting past the twins and inside was a smooth process; I imagine they already knew of my expected appearance. It was a typical nightclub, loud music, people dancing, and bartenders serving drinks. Nothing looked amiss until I was led to an elevator. Did nightclubs typically have elevators with this many floors? Why were there many floors below? The questions were ringing through my head as we luckily went up instead of down. The twins didn’t get off the elevator with me; instead, they pointed to the room, which is not as useful as you'd think, since there were countless rooms right next to each other. I took a lucky guess and knocked. A man, bigger but not quite taller than me, opened the door and ushered me inside. The first thing I saw was my mother sitting on the long sofa that wrapped around the small room. 

 

I couldn’t help the gut reaction to seeing her; my hands suddenly felt clammy, my heart raced, and I could feel the bile coming up my throat. For a few seconds there, I forgot why I had come at all. I almost backed out, my leg involuntarily taking a few steps back before hitting the door. 

 

“Relax, sit down. You want Mary–sorry, your mother to stay alive and healthy, right? So let’s talk about this deal, yeah?” The older man said as he took a seat and lit his cigarette. I made no move to sit or get closer to either of them, but I nodded at his words nonetheless. Mary made no move to talk, yet her gaze on me was unyielding, cold even. 

 

“So your name’s Miles.” He began again, and I simply nodded, “Right. Well, Miles, are you aware that she worked here?” I shook my head. “Are you aware that she uses? Specifically drops?” I nodded. She used drops since I was twelve; it’s evident in the way she looks, even to this day. 

“Okay, well, are ya aware that she took more than she could pay for?” I lean back against the door and give him an odd look at his question, which motivates him to keep going with this almost one-sided conversation, “Mary essentially stole more drops than she could pay for; she’s in debt to us till further notice.” He finished out and awaited my reaction, but none of his words truly surprised me. She financially never really could afford the amount of drugs she was taking, though I thought she’d be better at stealing and going unnoticed better than that. She got caught, so what? Why is my involvement in this matter? 

 

Almost like he knew what I was thinking when he spoke the next lines, “You’re involved because debts go onto children as well. You see, if Mary spent the rest of her life working, she still wouldn’t be able to pay me back.” Ahh right. She did manage to drag me into her shit, and I fell for it. 

 

“Oh god, where are my manners? You can call me Penguin.” The man said, not sounding remorseful in the least, as he stuck out his hand, expecting me to walk over to him to shake it. I watched him oddly and made no move to do so, but he seemed unbothered and simply laughed. He then opened a folder that was placed on the table before him and my mother, stapled papers neatly tucked inside.

 

“Now your mother is currently working off her debts here at this establishment,” he said, opening his arms and motioning around, “but we need another income, which is where you come in.” he took out a pen from inside his suit and placed it on the table. “This contract you’ll sign, but I’ll give ya a little summary since I’m feeling nice. Let’s talk money, I need $700 every last Sunday of the month.” That alone made me almost choke on my saliva. I was barely getting by, and now I have to cough up $700? I glanced over to my mother, who seemed as cool as ever, but she briefly looked at the window next to me. 

 

“Plus, I have a personal assignment for you. I need you to be a spy of sorts. Your mother said you were pretty good at that when you were younger. Making sure no one caught her stealing.” He said with a small grin, like the whole situation to him was just for his amusement. But for me, that was my daily life; I had to do those things for my mom, for her survival and mine. This whole situation feels like a bad dream, like I’m trapped and isolated all over again, wishing she’d just stop, stop for me.  

 

“What do these personal assignments intel and what happens if I don’t want to do any of this?” I questioned before I could stop myself.

 

“Well, rest assured, your mother and you wouldn’t make it out of this room uninjured or even alive, for that matter." His earlier lightness was completely gone from his voice, and his hand fixed over an object behind his back, presumably a gun. Goosebumps travelled up my arms, and my blood ran cold at the seriousness of this whole ordeal. 

 

“But you’re a smart boy, I’m sure you figured that out. As I was saying I’ll be sending you to a few warehouses where we make these drops. You’re going to act like you’re a regular worker as well. Befriend them, supervise them, follow them, you get the gist.” 

 

“For what purpose? Just to make sure everything’s in order?”

 

“Yes I'll also give you a list of names and things to look out for. But that’s something to think about for tomorrow. Right now I need you to sign these papers.” Penguin said as he pushed the paper and pen across the table, I hesitantly took a few steps forward until my shaky hands rested on the table.

 

“Did you see that?” My mother said suddenly, speaking for the first time since I entered the room. Penguin and I glanced at the window, a flash of a dark figure passed by, but it was late, it could’ve been an animal if anything.

“Enough with the distractions. Sign the goddamn paper. Get me the money tomorrow and begin my assignments, you understand that, kid?” Penguin snapped his patience, starting to wear thin while I struggled to get the papers out of the folder due to my nerves. When I finally did, I signed it all, stupid, I know, but at this point, I felt like I was in too deep. I put it back into the folder and slid it back to Penguin. 

 

“Good. Good. I expect to see you tomorrow at 8 PM on the dot. Not a second later.” Penguin said as he picked up the folder and leaned back into the sofa, lighting a new cigarette. I stood frozen in place, watching Penguin return to smoking while reading over the contract casually, while my mother just watched me with a small smile. Like she knew I’d come here to save her ass, that condescending smile, goddamn it. I rushed out of the room shortly after that, not caring about slamming the door behind me.

 

“Miles! Cmon slow down Miles!” I hear her grating voice call out to me as I kept walking, opting to take the stairs just to get away faster.

 

“Miles! Just let me explain, would ya?” She continued on, her footsteps growing louder on the floor as she tried to catch up to me. I opened the door that led to the staircase and rushed down the stairs when I felt her pull me back.

 

“For fucks sake. What do you want?” My voice echoed loudly throughout the staircase, my eyes already brimming with tears without my consent.

 

“I’m sorry, okay? Mama ain’t mean to drag you into this.”

 

“LIAR!” 

 

“Honey-”

 

“You’re a goddamn liar! You just can’t quit, can you? Christ, how are you even alive still? All the drops in the world and you’re still alive.” My words were harsh and cutting, and I could see the look on her face as soon as I spat out those words. Her mouth hung open slightly, and her own eyes glazed over with tears. I didn’t stand around for her response and quickly left the staircase in a haze, pushing past people while wiping my eyes.

Chapter 3: Loose Cannon

Notes:

I know, I know. It's been months, I'm finally on break, so hopefully I'll update more often.

I enter the warehouse with a clear objective in mind, stay vigilant, and assimilate with the workers. I watched as machines supplied materials like boxes and containers. While workers either operated the machines or packaged the drops before sending them to another section. I walked through the warehouse with as much confidence as I could, but the discomfort was creeping into my skin. I pulled out the note and picture that Penguin gave me earlier and skimmed it over, keeping an eye out for anyone with the name Elio Reid. He looked to be around his early twenties, had jet black long hair, stubble on his face, and bags under his eyes. 

 

There were countless workers passing me by as I made my way to the back of the warehouse to help place finished supplies in the trucks. No one spared me a glance as they continued working, which I suppose should help my nerves. But it was a curious thing not to recognize people you’ve worked with often. The job itself wasn’t difficult; it’s not as back-breaking as construction, but it still feels tedious and repetitive. I finished loading one truck, and another one pulled up to the port I was at. I spent the rest of the night and early morning unloading and loading trucks. It was only when I was getting ready to leave that I heard a familiar name.

 

“Elio! How you been, man?” A man near me shouted out as he waved his hand to someone behind me. I turned around and saw a man who looked completely different from the picture I’ve been handed. He was a bit on the shorter side with a round face, messy brown hair, brown beady eyes, and pale skin. He wore glasses on his face with a polo shirt and a coat on top. I suppose he could appear nerdy, but something about him gave me the creeps.

 

I listened to the two men converse while trying to appear busy by organizing boxes. Every time I tried to glance in Elio’s direction, his eyes were already on me. I gave an awkward smile to ease my nerves, and he smiled back; the smile was just as creepy as his eyes. Stretching across his face as his eyes squinted slightly. 

 

“I’m Miles, today’s my first day,” I said, feeling obligated to introduce myself as the two men stared at me. 

“Nice to meet you, son, I’m Jackson.” The older man said as he took my hand and shook it. I gave him a brief nod of acknowledgment and turned my gaze back to Elio. It’s either that he’s lying about his identity or Penguin mixed up the picture he was supposed to give me. 

 

“I’m Elio…Elio Reid,” he repeated the name slowly, giving me that creepy grin again as he held out his hand. I shook his hand quickly to be polite, but he gripped my hand and lingered. 

 

“Nice to meet you too, Elio,” I force out with an awkward chuckle, “I best get going though.” I pulled my hand back and quickly left the warehouse, searching for the nearest bus stop. I stood by waiting for the bus and pulled out a notepad to note my night. I noted the time I arrived, I estimated how many workers there were and their roles, I placed down the number of trucks I saw and boxes I unloaded and loaded up, as well as meeting Elio and his appearance. As I wrote, I felt goosebumps, I looked around, seeing a dark figure on the roof briefly. It was gone before I could process what I was seeing at all. 

 

I hated being outside in Gotham, especially at this time. There is always something happening in this crime-ridden city. I put my notepad away and watched my surroundings carefully as I saw the bus coming in the distance. I took out my bus pass and put it through the machine before going to sit down. It was mostly empty on the bus, only a few tired stranglers hanging around. I watched the buildings pass, almost lulling me to sleep. Only jolting awake when I recognized my stop ahead. I quickly got up and pulled the yellow line before heading to the door and getting out. 

 

I walked a block before my apartment complex came into sight. I went up the flight of stairs because the elevator was out of order again, swear that happens every other week. I fished out my keys and opened my door, my cats immediately greeting me by nuzzling against my legs and purring. I smiled and crouched down to pet them before closing my door, hanging up my coat, and taking off my shoes. I placed my keys on the counter and opened my fridge, the only things staring back at me was a jar of strawberry jam and a carton of eggs. I pulled out an egg and fried it alongside some toast. I spent the rest of the early morning almost in a haze. I couldn’t sleep. I had to finish my assignments for physics and calculus, and figure out where I could get an extra job to make up for the loss of money due to the Penguin. At this rate, I'll never have enough to get a car and simultaneously afford college classes and rent. 

 

I got about two hours of sleep max, and I went into work feeling sluggish and drained. I could see the construction manager coming over to me, not looking much better than I.

“Miles, you look like crap.” Ms.Raven said bluntly as she looked me over.

“I could say the same thing about you.” I replied with a small smile.

“I need a bit of a favor,” she started again after a few moments of silence, “you see I was childhood friends with Mrs.Mitchell,” she referred to the mayor’s wife.

“Oh…oh, I'm sorry for your loss, Raven,” she waved me off, “it’s fine. I was invited to the funeral. I wanted someone to go with me.” I nodded slowly, confused about where she was going with this until it clicked in my mind.

 

“You want me to go with you?”

“Yes, as my plus one. The service is in the morning but it might not start till the afternoon,” she moved her hair from her face and gave me a hopeful look, “I’ll pick you up, so what do you say?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll go with you,” she smiled brightly and patted my arm lightly, “atta boy, I’ll message you more details later.” I watched her dash off somewhere else shortly after, and I took out my phone from my pocket. I had to buy a suit for this funeral, so I messaged Gordon to see if he’d like to tag along with me before getting to work. Only seeing his message of agreement hours later, when I was leaving my job early.

 

I took the bus to the mall, heading straight to the food court when I arrived, and ordered noodles with mongolian chicken, and ate while I waited for Gordon. He arrived shortly after and slid into the seat next to me, carrying noodles with orange chicken. 

“See, we had similar things in mind, kid.” He said with a warm smile, and I simply nodded at his statement. He chuckled at my lack of response, used to moments of quietness, “Tell me, why aren’t you at work?” He said, pushing for more conversation.

“I am Ms. Raven’s plus one to Mayor Mitchell’s funeral, and I need to get a suit,” I said, cutting straight to the point.

 

“Why is she taking you and not a family member or partner?” I shrugged in response, which made Gordon grumble at my lack of response.

“Are you two close?” He tried again, “Closer than one should be?”

“Oh god no, she’s just known me since the beginning, she’s been the construction manager the whole time I've been working there,” Gordon nodded, feeling relieved at my answer.

“It’s just– you’re doing that thing you do when you’re overwhelmed.” 

“What thing?” 

“You know, barely talking, looking tense, glancing around, purposely avoiding details.” I almost rolled my eyes, “Don’t give me that look, I know you. I know your tells.”

“You worry too much, old man.”

 

“Would you tell me? If you were…if you are going through something?” I hesitated to answer; I didn’t want to blatantly lie to Gordon. But what was I supposed to say? My crazed mother somehow looped me into a deal with the biggest underground dealer and essentially blackmailed me into doing his bidding. Yeah, as if.

“I’ll tell you in due time.” I settled on that answer instead. He didn’t like my answer, but he accepted it as he picked up our empty boxes of food and threw them away.

 

“Let’s get you a suit then.” He stood up and stretched before leading me to different stores. We spent the next hour looking for something presentable for a mayor’s funeral while also being on budget. I couldn’t care less about the whole ordeal, I’d rather not spend my money on this, but I had already agreed, so it was too late now. We finally settled on a black slim-fit suit that wasn’t too pricey but looked nice. I hadn’t worn a suit in a while, so it was nice to see myself in something more put together. Gordon grinned while he took a picture of me in the same way a grandma might take one of her grandkids. 

 

“Enough of that,” I said, pushing his phone away lightly after a few flashes, not truly upset with him over it. I take off the suit shortly after and put back on my regular clothes before going up to the counter to pay for it, only to find out Gordon beat me to it.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to kid, you seem stressed enough. Let me do this one thing for you,” Gordon said gently as he lightly rested his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. I accepted begrudgingly and exited the store with him. We continued strolling through the mall, just window shopping for some time before Gordon dropped me off at home. It was around 6 pm, and I decided to return my focus to my studies, writing down notes and making flashcards. But it's difficult for me, my focus keeps drifting to ‘Elio’ and the warehouse. I already dread meeting Penguin tomorrow night to discuss what I’ve discovered. I’m genuinely unsure about how I’ll keep up with doing this for months. I mean, working for him is bad enough, but the fact that half of my already limited money is being taken away just really exacerbates the situation. 

Notes:

I promise the next chapter has a lot more plot. Well, the story will, in general, so be prepared. Also, I genuinely will try to finish this story by August, but I apologize in advance if I don’t. If you read version one (which you don’t need to read to understand this one), I didn’t continue updating it because of college and other personal struggles, but I’ll finish this version two for sure. Then I’ll work on finishing version one.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Strangers In The Night V1 & V2