aaron taft 🦇 bruce wayne (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} darksadlonely) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} thereincarnates, |
That’s what they were, terrorists. That knowledge existed in the back of his mind long before he became a reincarnate himself, but it conveniently flew away the moment Jo offhandedly linked their name with his parents. (Not Bruce’s, of course, but his warnings came too late, and to ears determined not to hear them.) Looking back, he knew a combination of desperation and misplaced trust landed him in this mess when the girl calling herself his friend promised answers in exchange for him joining her little club. But that was the thing about hindsight: knowing what happened didn’t excuse it, and now?
Now he was pretty well fucked.
They’d kept him on a tight leash since then. Moved him from one coast to another, prevented him from contacting anyone from his “old life.” The only person he wanted to contact was his twin sister, but telling them so was a mistake. Casual threats on her life started almost immediately after that, subtle reminders to keep him in line. Of course the threats worked. Aaron was out of his depth, and he didn’t think it made him a coward to capitulate if it meant keeping Nora safe. He got himself into this. He could get himself out, eventually. Probably. Until then, what choice did he have?
There’s always a choice.
And, as always, your timing is terrible. Aaron let out an exasperated sigh, a frequent occurrence these days whenever Bruce deigned to speak to him. He was alone for the first time in a while, ushered into a hallway with a briefcase to deliver around the corner, so there were no deceptively keen eyes on him to analyze his behavior. Aaron thought it probably could’ve been a lot worse – Harper wasn’t so bad, as far as a handler went. She was just a little… unpredictable. Which was sort of a given, considering the whole Harley Quinn thing.
It was a relief to be out from under Harper’s watchful gaze for the first time in what felt like forever, but that relief was instantly washed away by the task at hand. Though this wasn’t the first errand they’d sent him on, it was the first they made a point of telling him to do on his own. No more trailing Harper like a sad puppy – it was time to show some initiative. There was a part of Aaron that wanted to ask how much initiative they really expected from someone who didn’t want to be here, but he wasn’t dumb enough to say it out loud.
Just dumb enough to get in this situation, apparently.
Bracing himself, he started down the hallway at a brisk pace and turned the corner. The only reason his head wasn’t down was Bruce, who had somehow gotten Aaron in the habit of staying alert. And that, in turn, was the only reason he saw the woman at the end of the hallway before she saw him.
Or, well. Her legs. He saw her legs first, the only part of her visible because the rest of her was leaning against the wall, comfortably in shadow. His pace slowed and he swallowed hard, just as the rest of her came into the light. If his limited experience taught him anything, it was that the women in the Resistance were more dangerous than the men. This woman wasn’t explicitly in the Resistance, but if she was working with them? That probably made her just as dangerous. Maybe even more so.
Best to get this over with, and quickly.
Aaron reached the end of the hallway, stopping a few feet away from the woman. He tried not to notice how striking she was, even if she was plainly annoyed. As she kicked the bag at her feet, a deeply uncomfortable feeling grew in the part of Aaron that was Bruce. Aaron tried not to notice that, too.
“Sorry. I… didn’t mean to keep you waiting." His apology was automatic, a habit he'd never been able to break. He swallowed again, even though his mouth was dry, and offered her a small shrug through hunched shoulders. Hallways like this always made him feel too big for his body. “I guess this is yours?”
He raised the briefcase to show it to her, then set it on the floor in front of him. Unsure of what to do with his hands now that they were free, he stuck them in the pockets of his hoodie. “They, um. They told me to tell you, you can count it first.”