i_huntvillains A place to stay for the night (Open)
She had taken to wandering the corridors of Wayne Manor in her night gown, waiting for whoever had been using her father's bookmarks to come home.
Instead, she had found herself face to face with an Alfred that was nearly two decades younger than she remembered him. She'd also seen a side of Alfred she never remembered seeing-he'd demanded to know who she was, and had all but physically thrown her out of the house when she'd told him.
And so, the cab that had been paid for pulled to a stop in the center of the unfamiliar city, in front of what looked to be a motel. She climbed out, shouldering the black duffel bag she had insisted on taking with her-the few remaining vestiges of her life, which included her suit and a small collection of weapons.
She stopped at an ATM machine outside the motel, trying her card. At the very least, her bank account seemed to be in tact, as her pin number worked and the machine spit out a small pile of bills. Enough to ensure that she was taken care of for the next two weeks, just in case, well, just in case her bank account disappeared too, as everything else that was familiar seemed to have.
She quickly stowed the bills inside her left boot, leaving just enough in her pocket for the motel room and some food. She went inside and checked in, making her way to the motel room and sitting for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts.
Last night, she'd been in her bed at dad's house, which she'd inherited two months ago. She certainly hadn't wanted the house. It held too many memories.
But she hadn't been able to bring herself to move, either.
She'd spent the last two months guarding the city with a growing intensity, bordering on obsession. As though taking up Dad's old mantle would somehow make up for the fact that he'd given his life because of her. Because of her lack of honesty.
Or perhaps taking on the role her father had been so unhappy to find her in was her way of lashing out at him, post-mortem. Her last rebellion against a man who had spent his entire life holding her at arm's length, moreso when she had needed him the most.
She sighed, changing from the nightgown she had been wearing into her costume, placing a mask on her face.
She found herself thinking back to the Mansion, to the man who, no doubt, accompanied the butler. Alfred wouldn't have expelled her unless he was protecting yet another occupant.
The original occupant, no doubt. Or, rather, the man she would always think of as the 'original' occupant, as she hadn't had the chance to get to know her grandparents or great-grandparents, etc.
Dad?
No, not exactly. And yet, she wondered if she would somehow find some resolution in seeing him, speaking with him.
Apologizing for the secrets she'd kept, for the fact that she hadn't been quick enough, or strong enough, or good enough to help him in the end.
Perhaps if he were able to forgive her, then she could move on. Maybe even, if... somehow, he was a version of her father from the past, she could prevent it from happening.
She shook her head, attempting to clear the thoughts. Now was not the time. What mattered now was finding out as much as she could about this city. She quickly stowed her collapsible crossbow in her boot, along with a few other weapons on her belt, and then climbed out the window, using a grapple hook to exit the balcony onto a nearby fire escape, climbing it to the top of a building and stopping, surveying the city. Nothing but twinkling lights and buildings that were a blend of the familiar and unfamiliar. She watched, blinking as, suddenly, a few of the buildings changed. Just like that, they were gone, new ones in their place.
She shook her head, as though to clear the hallucination, and then looked again. Nope. There it was again-another part of the city was moving.
She retrieved a small pair of night vision binoculars from her belt, looking through them, attempting to see beyond the buildings. The city itself stretched for miles, but beyond the mass of concrete skyscrapers, there was a dense wood-like nothing she'd ever seen, really. Certainly not like the woods she'd went to on a camping trip for school once when she was younger.
At this point, she was all for chalking this all up to one incredibly realistic dream. Or nightmare, for that matter.
And so, for the time being, she'd go along with it, and sooner or later, she'd hopefully find herself back at home, in her bed.
But the question was-did she really want that to happen before she got the chance to talk to this world's version of her Dad?
Attempting to again push that thought of her mind, she leapt from building to building, occasionally stopping to survey the city, still completely baffled by the mysterious changing of the buildings, and hoping that the motel she'd just shelled out for would still be there when she returned.
Dean hadn't gotten back yet, but Sam had finally managed to catch an actual solid hour's sleep, not at all fitful... Until the faucet in the bathroom started to drip. In his dreams, it transmuted to blood dripping. From the ceiling, onto his forehead.
He was clutching at the sheets when he woke up, his throat dry, his body soaked in sweat. He didn't realize how long Dean had been gone yet. All he knew was he was thirsty, more so that than hungry really. He got up, putting on his shoes, grabbing his wallet, intent on looking for a soda machine, or hell at least a water fountain.
This motel had to have something besides a clueless clerk and small rooms.
Scratch that. The clerk wasn't entirely clueless. He did at least seem knowledgeable enough to let him know about the City's wireless network. Sam was momentarily distracted from his pursuit of refreshment to go about setting both himself and Dean up with an account.
Then he was back perusing the hallways. Where the hell was Dean anyway?
After her run-in with the not-so-helpless victim, Helena had slipped into her room and changed into her civilian clothes. Her stomach was really growling by this point.
She stepped out of her room, pulling her leather jacket around her. She turned the corner and nearly collided with someone. Just in time, she sidestepped him, awkwardly maneuvering around him.
Sam moved just as awkwardly, accidentally stepping the same direction she did, effectively block her path. Then he sidestepped again, beginning that little dance two people do when each can't get out of the other's way. Almost smiling sheepishly, he said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and moved against the wall so she could pass if she wanted. Then on an impulse asked, "Excuse me, but do you know where we are? I mean, besides a motel."
She raised an eyebrow. What was going on with this town and no one knowing where they were?
"Can't say that I do," she said with a shrug. "I tell you, I wish I did." she stopped, studying him with curiousity. "How did you get here?" she asked him, waiting for some other sort of odd story about an arrival out of nowhere.
Sam sighed. "Wonderful. My brother probably just got us lost. I was asleep. Sort of. Then there was this fog. When I woke up again later it was gone and he - we - had no idea where we were." Again the refreshments were temproarily forgotten. "So... you don't know anything about this place either? How'd you get there, then?"
She laughed. "Not sure I should tell you. You're going to think I'm nuts." she sighed, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully for a second. "Though, I'm not sure it matters at this point, does it?" she paused, trying to find a way to describe it that didn't sound crazy.
"Okay. I went to sleep in my bed, at home in Gotham. And then I woke up in my bed, here. And here is definitely not Gotham." she hesitated, the corner of her lip quirking up in a half-smile. "See? Crazy, right?"
"Gotham? You mean New York?" Sam furrowed his brow. "But no I don't think you're crazy. My brother's sens of direction isn't that bad. I don't think he really got us this lost. The fact that none of us know how we got here and all the clerk will say is this is 'The City', doesn't seem at all normal to me."
Sam wasn't sure he liked this feeling. His old life - all the things he'd left behind, turned his back on, were still finding their way back to him. Strange things other people would find inexplicable. But not his family.
He was already getting used to things not being normal again. He expected it, the moment he called Dean. Or even the moment Dean showed up at his door before that. He idly wondered again where Dean was. How long did it take to find some grub?
Sam squinted at her. Gotham New York's a different what...? But he didn't ask, he merely shook his head at her question. "No, we just got here. My brother went in search of food; I'm supposed to be sleeping." He held out his hand. "I'm Sam, by the way."
"Helena," she replied with a smile, taking his hand.
"Nice to meet you." For the time being she decided against warning him about the streets changing. He'd find out soon enough. For now, this was enough to take in.
"So, you said that you two drove here? And when you woke up, you were here, and not... where were you trying to drive to?"
"You can. And I've been here since this morning, so not long." She shrugged. "All I know about this city is that the people I've run into all seem to be... from different timelines, if that makes sense?" she shrugged. "There was-uh, someone who should know me but didn't because I was in his future. And someone else who knew me, or, an older version of me." Her eyes darkened for a second as she thought about her father, or the younger version of her father, as it would be.
"I'm still hoping this is all some sort of wacky nightmare that I'll be waking up from anytime."
Sam's eyes widened. To most people that would have been cause to wonder about her sanity. But to Sam, well. It figured. Normal has been left behind. Normal had been a four year illusion, and illusion that ended the first night he dreamed about Jessica's death.
But even so, this was a bit much. Strange fog, a city people didn't know how they got to, and now this woman talking about future version of others.
"I gotta admit that sounds pretty weird." He decided to try for levity. "If this is a nightmare am I dreaming you or are you dreaming me, then?"
"Good question." she shrugged. "I'd love to answer, but I think the one thing I can be sure of is that I don't have many answers here."
She frowned, studying him. "So, what's your story? I mean, what were you doing before this? And why were you trying to go to Seattle? Maybe that can help with unraveling how you ended up here."
Sam hesitated. He never liked to lie - that was Dean's forte, but he was not about to share any details here. "Road trip," he said, and it wasn't entirely a lie. "My brother picked me up at Stanford and we just... started driving. He picked the direction." Also a truth. Just not a full one. "What about you? Wht's in... Gotham for you?"
"Not a whole lot anymore, to tell the truth. My parents-well, they're gone now. It was just me and my boss, who was a lot like a brother to me."
After a second of silence while she contemplated losing the one person she had had left and gaining, well... gaining a father who didn't know her...
"I was a lawyer," she volunteered, leaving out her night job. But, she reasoned, this man was most likely leaving something out as well. She had yet to run into someone who was fully civilian here, actually.
Sam opened and closed his mouth during the silence, but couldn't think of a thing to say. If Dean were here he'd probably be hitting on Helena already. Scratch probably. Definitely. And meanwhile Sam was just struggling to think of something to say.
And then she said the magic words. Sam's face lit up. "Really? I was pre-law at Stanford." Law. Order. Something so vastly different from what he grew up with. He leaned against the wall, clinging to the bit of normality. "What kind of law did you practice?"