The night was damp and frigid, more so than it had been during the day. Every inhale filled the lungs with an icy dagger, stabbing in deep right in-between the heart. Ragged and a tiny, tiny bit painful. Enough to just know that trying to mess around when the sun went down was going to be a massive mistake. Hence, why Albert in that moment was shuffling from foot to foot despite wearing some of his hand-me-down winter clothes. A simple threadbare scarf the color of faded vomit, a few layers of mismatched t-shirts and even another pair of thicker gloves that dramatically impacted his finger dexterity. And, of course the bubble coat couldn't be forgotten.
'C'mon you big bastard.' He knew it was rude to curse someone like this but to be fair, the man in question was a massive idiot. A foolish, stubborn dumb-ass...Maybe that wasn't fair, maybe it was the awful weather influencing his mood but whatever the case, it couldn't be denied that his client was the reason why he was standing in some nearby alley in the middle of the night. 'Hurry up, I feel my toes starting to freeze.'
As though some divine patron had finally decided to show him some mercy, a large and lumbering form 'squeezed' out of that strange and cartoon-ish door. Hunching their shoulders and ducking their head down, a giant of a man stepped out into the chilly night wearing a simple brown coat and loose navy pants. Head turning from left to right, the vigilante man scanned the street one more time before turning and locking the door behind him.
His shoulder rose stiffly, chest puffing out before a large plume of fog flew out of him. Reaching high into the sky before quickly dissipating. Even from so far away, it was clear the guy was hyping himself up. Trying to force himself to take that first step forward. Before he did just that.
The adolescent only watched on as the figure grew closer and larger in his sight, staying ramrod straight in that alley. A series of plans going in one ear and out the other. Obviously, jumping out at someone was considered rude. Here in Gotham? It was enough to cause some loose teeth. And as much as that annoyance had been bubbling up in his stomach, he didn't fancy the idea of developing more injuries than he already had. Any orthodontic work would surely break the bank.
No, it was better to confront him while well outside of his considerable reach. And so while pushing down his boiling agitation, a forced smile appeared on his face. Professional and cold.
Stepping out of the alley's mouth, he completely blocked the man's path.
"Hello, Malcolm."
If anything, the man looked a bit confused at first. Wary at some random stranger slinking out of the shadows like a mid-level antagonist in a b-list film, shock at said shifty interloper knowing his name before recognition flashed across his features. And suddenly, it was he who was beginning to act shifty.
From looking off to the side, rubbing at his left arm subconsciously and that equally as fake smile appearing on his face, it was like he was almost screaming out his guilt.
"H-hey." Malcolm greeted, coughing mid way through to obscure the light cracking to his voice. "Hey Albert, how are you doing? It's nice night, isn't it? What's up with the face bandage stuff?"
"I've been doing just as well as I can." Pointing at his own face, he shook off the man's laughable attempt at misdirection. "The night is terrible, not something anyone should be walking around in. And as for my face? Don't worry about it, someone just got a little bit too into playing doctor."
"It's not that cold out here."
"It's forty-two degrees."
"Uh….I guess so, what can I do for you?"
"Oh, so nice of you to ask. I just came to make sure our agreement still held."
"Yeah it still holds!" If he was put into a poker table, even novices would eat this man alive. "You didn't need to come all the way down here for something like that!"
"Oh that's good…." That professional smile cracked, at his real annoyance forced itself to the surface. Taking a step forward, he got up right into the fighter's personal space. Craning his head up, he allowed the full force of his gaze to hammer into the man. Who despite being at least a head taller, still shrank in on himself. "If that's the case, then why were you fighting in the Black?"
"What?!" If anything, the man looked read to jump out of his own skin. Head craning back to eye his unlit and silent building, he turned back and spoke in a lower tone. "Keep your voice down, I don't know what you're talking about! I have-"
"You were fighting against a brick house." But it seemed that wasn't enough to shut his mouth for an instant rebuttal. "Masked, of course. You were wearing a wife beater and a black and brown mask. Is that enough? Or do you want me to continue?"
"…." His jaw clicked shut, eyes growing as wide as saucers like a deer looking into the cross hairs of a hunting rifle. Slumping, he nearly whispered out a question. "How did you find out? I know for sure you weren't there that night or else you would've stopped me."
"I saw it at a Soiree' of all places."
"You're sounding like Livi right now, you mean a party?"
"It was being played in some backroom." The man's comment was ignored, there wasn't anything that could stop this information from coming out. "By people, powerful individuals who got a sick thrill out of seeing people harmed. Sexual sadism, at it's finest."
"Oh…."
"Oh indeed." Albert looked around the suddenly thoughtful man."And look alive, it seems we'll be having company."
"Company?"
Turning, Malcolm only took a second before his entire face turn ashen. Chalky white as he saw a small figure 'sneak' out from the back of his apartment, some sort of bulk instrument on it's back and feet. In it's hand, a small screen can be seen flashing.
The figure, after looking down at it's display finally craned their head up. That same young face, sallow and thin. Pale as though they'd hadn't stepped out to touch grass in weeks. For a moment, that usually bored face looked almost exactly like the giant. Eyes wide and ready to bolt, but after a seconds they shrugged and came up to them.
A soft whirling sound filled the street, like motors buzzing to life. Like a specter, the figure 'floated' towards the pair. Plastic wheels gliding effortlessly over cracked concrete and in mere moments, their identity was fully revealed.
Not like it was needed.
"Dill!" The man looked restless, hands opening and closing as he resisted the urge to worry over the pre-treen. "What are you doing out here? It's late and you know it's not safe out here at night….Especially not roller blading like that!"
'Can that even be considered skating?'
Looking down, Albert quirked his brow at the contraption strapped to the girl's feet. There, she wore a pair of black roller blades with what looked to be a motors. From her ankles, a long jumble of wires crawled up and into the massive book-bag on her back. Which, had a massive antenaa poking straight out and into the air. Following along another mismatched pair of wires, it ended with a small device that looked to be some school single hand controller. The sorts that collectors would go wild over...or maybe rabid if they saw how thoroughly destroyed it was. In fact, he was sure she only used the frame and only parts of it to, if the small holes drilled or cut into it's surface was anything to go by.
Finally it's crowning piece, a small analog screen positioned in such way that she could look down at it from the corner of her eye. From this close he could see the a red light blink repeatedly, in rapid patterns.
"Then why are you outside then?"
Despite being caught, Dillon did not look ready to back-down. In fact, she even pressed one of the side buttons on her remote and rolled forward. Somehow in a menacing manner.
"I...I mean look at me!" As though to emphasis his point, he began motioning over himself. "Whose going to mess with me?"
"Then what about me?" She shot back, becoming way more animated than Albert had ever seen. "Anyone would just take one look at me and what I have on and just look in the other direction!"
'She's not wrong.'
Gotham was a rather weird place and if anyone were to see a kid rolling around on some obvious D.I.Y. contraption, most people would just go on about their day with no desire to involve themselves with someone like that. They were obviously trouble and the citizens had more than issues to deal to be adding more. Besides, what if it explodes? Who would want to be next a potential bomb?
"That's not the point and you know it!" He raked his fingers through his hair, quickly coming undone at the seems. "What if someone grabs you?"
"They wouldn't be able to catch up." The girl shrugged confidentially. "The average person can go about ten to fifteen miles per hour in roller blades. But with this, I can go an average of twenty to twenty-five."
"You!" Malcolm looked right about ready to turn into a mother grizzly at that moment but he must've known going along this pah wouldn't be fruitful. So instead, he decided to pivot by repeating a previous unanswered question. "What are you doing out here?"
"Following you."
"What?!"
"Yeah." She then pointed at the silent third party with her thumb. "Since Livi's shifty detective won't tell us what's going on, then I decided to find out myself."
As much as Albert just wanted to let the two hash things out, there was something that immediately brought up multiple reasons to be concerned. Not her calling him shifty because even had to admit that the way he handled Olivia's case wasn't professional in the slightest. And he probably came off as a snake oil or used car salesmen.
"You need to tell her."
He turned to the giant, breaking in between the sibling stand off.
"What? Why? No I don't!" All that exasperated concerned morphed into something more heated, an embering ire. Maybe if the investigator didn't know the guy was harmless, then maybe he would've been concerned. But as long as he didn't try to stupidly threaten Dillon here, he was more than safe to flap his gums without any concern of physical violence.
"She, a twelve year old was going to follow you to that place. Do you not see the issue?" Thinking up worse case scenarios was kind of his thing, being prepared for the worse was always a good habit to practice. And he could see a lot of tragic ends that could follow if he hadn't been there that night. From being hit by a car or mugged. But the worse thing that could've happened was her getting kidnapped. Whether by a trafficker or, by someone who knew of Malcolm's nightly activities and their familial connections. It was clear the girls could be used as a lever against him. And if someone was unscrupulous, like that slimy 'manager' of his, then they could make him do anything. For example, fight in the Black. "If you're not going to tell her, I will."
"You said you would keep it to yourself!"
"And you said I had a couple weeks, not days."
"What is he talking about?" Dillon pipped up, rolling closer as she saw his face growing a near ghostly pale. Her annoyance fading and concern flowed back up to the surface.
"Dill...look." Malcolm placed his two massive hands on her shoulders, locking them both in a stare off. Clear reluctance flashed across his face. "You can't follow me….Where I'm going, it's not face for you to be there...There's a lot of bad people there and I don't want to see you get hurt. You have to promise you won't follow me, can you do that for me?"
"If there's bad people there, then why are you going there?" For the first time, she actually acted her age. And that single, innocent question stabbed deeply into the man's heart. A pained expression darted into existence.
"It's...complicated." He said through gritted teeth. "Yes, bad things happen there...but by me going there, good things can happen for us."
"It's a bad place, then how can anything good come out of…?" Her eyes widened a hair, color draining from her as she put together the pieces. "Is-is this about money? Why would you do that? I thought we were fine on cash?"
"I don't bog you down with stuff like this, it's too soon. You shouldn't have to worry about our finances, it shouldn't even be on your mind. You should be able to point at anything you want and get it without hearing a peep from anyone."
"I'm not a kid! Stop treating me like one!"The twelve year old snapped, even going as far as to try and stomp her feet only to nearly slip and fall only to be held up by him. Face flushed, that scowl grew fiercer. "Answer my question already!"
"…." He looked away from her, a look of defeat plain to see. And only after a few moments of hesitant silence did he finally answer. "Our finances aren't good. At all. Sure we'll be able to scrape by...but that's all. That's not good enough. I want you two to have better lives, I want you two to be able to experience an actual childhood. To make friends with people that won't make fun of you for wearing raggedy clothing, or smelling weird or eating out of a trash-bag."
Maybe that last part was a bit of projection, the man overlapping his own experiences onto them. Unresolved trauma from childhood bullying can cause of low self-esteem and depression later on in life. And with how little Malcolm valued himself,
"What is he doing there to earn money?" She turned to Albert in that moment, tears barely held back from flowing over.
"Don't!" The man quickly interjected, panicked. Eyes darting to and fro as he tried and failed to find a way out of his current predicament. That's the problem with keeping secrets from loved ones. When things finally come to light, the hurt it caused will always be deep.
"Then tell me yourself!"
She shot back, shaking herself out of his grip to stare him down with all the force she could muster. And whether it was because he himself had grown weary of living such a double life or maybe he simply couldn't tell any of his siblings 'no'. But whatever the reason, his shoulders drooped and he could no longer meet her intense gaze.
"…" It was a murmur, barely a whisper. More akin to him just mouthing the words and not actually putting them out for anyone to hear. But even he must've known that wasn't good enough. "I fight. I go into a makeshift and fight random people. Sometimes I make a lot of money...and other times I don't make anything..."
"But you get hurt either no matter what happens." It wasn't a question, but instead a statement. Quiet and near mouse-like. Like a simple breeze would carry the words away. "You have to stop."
"I can't-"
"Promise me!" Dillon lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his waist the best she could. Clinging on for dear life. Face burrowed in that bubble coat, but even muffled her chest thumping sobs could be easily heard. Deep and desperate. Like she was trying to pull on his very soul. "I promise I won't ever ask for anything ever again! We can stay here in our home till the day we grow old and die! Our lives are perfect the way it is! Don't you realize that it won't matter how much 'better' our lives might be if you're not there?! If we knew our 'improved' lives was due to you sacrificing yours?!"
"Dill-"
He tried to console her but she wasn't having any of that.
"Promise me!" Her shouts were near deafening in that long abandoned slice of the city. Voice filling with desperation. Her grip tightening as though she feared he would disappear forever if she ever dared to relax. "Promise me you'll stop! Just stop, please! We don't need higher education! We don't need fancy clothes or the newest stupid fad! We don't need stuck up friends like that! Or anything stupid and idiotic like that! We need you, Malcolm! We don't know what we'll do if we grow up and you're not there with us!"
Albert took a silent step back from the pair, turning gaze away to at-least provide them with a modicum of privacy. The scene played at his heart strings too much.
"…" The man was silent for a long moment, body stiff as she sobbed openly into his coat. A series of emotions flickered across his face. Confusion most prevalent of them. It was easy to tell what was going on between those brows.
'Why wouldn't she want a better life?'
'Isn't she tired of living in a crappy place like Gotham?'
'Why won't they understand that they deserve better than all this?'
'Why won't they let me do this for them?'
Or at least, that's if the investigator had read him accurately.
But alas, no amount of reason was going to get him out of this. There were two paths for Malcolm to follow.
The first involved him disregarding both Dillon's and Olivia's concern, and continuing on that road. Maybe he would survive the grueling Black, come out on top and become a sort of champion of the Circuit..but he would ultimately lose the very thing he was fighting so hard for. An indelible scar on the trio's relationship, guilt devouring the girls to such an extend that they would feel no other desire than to distance themselves from him.
Leaving three broken people. Another set of names for this god forsaken city's ledger of victims.
Despite trying to stay on the outside of this case, to distance himself from growing too attached or becoming too involved, Albert didn't think he could look himself if he didn't at least try to nudge them in the right direction.
There would always be a tragic story in his life of work. A tale to gain his sympathy, whether intentional or not. But that didn't mean he couldn't use some prudence to sort out the bad actors. And besides, helping at this point wouldn't cost him anything.
'He would've chosen this anyway.'
Locking eyes with the big lug, who looked so off balance that it wasn't even funny, he simply nodded with as much seriousness as he could muster.
Malcolm nearly collapsed, shoulders slumping as he hugged the girl close to him. Tears falling from his own eyes as he gently rubbed her head.
"I promise."
It was two simple words. An oath that should've made her happy, but the sobs only grew louder and her grip gaining a sort of supernatural strength.
Slipping back into the alley mouth and allowing the darkness to consume him, he sent one more meaning full glance in the sibling's direction before leaving the heartfelt scene.
***
"You're an asshole," Malcolm whispered, his attempts at stealth rather comical as he slipped out of that cartoon-ish door and took a seat besides the teen. His eyes looked red and skin a bit pale. Like he'd just got done with something very emotionally draining. If anything, the guy looked ready to shut his eyes and sleep for the next ten hours. Even his insult didn't hold the necessary bite. "I hope you know that."
"I do."
Albert easily accepted, leaning back on the hard concrete stairs. Feeling it's cold slightly jagged surface to jab him in the back. His toes had long since grown numb through the bitter cold. Ears nearly bright red, and from his legs down, he could only feel that pins and needles feelings that hopefully pointed towards just them falling asleep. And not the effects of hypothermia.
"I could punch you for what you did."
"I know."
'But you won't.'
Not only did the man look completely exhausted, to the point where even throwing a punch was out of the question. He simply wasn't that sort of guy. For as long as his bottom line wasn't touched, the investigator had nothing to worry about. Surprising, given the giant's extracurricular activities.
"Yeah." He couldn't even try to sound enraged or anything, just letting out a sigh. "Olivia knows now….If you couldn't hear, she wasn't pleased in the slightest."
'That's an understatement.'
If Dillon's sobs had been loud, then Olivia's had nearly been hysterical. He hadn't heard everything but what he did hear made him somewhat pity the man. And that in itself had lasted well over an hour before things had begun to settle down.
Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they enforced a curfew for the figh-well, ex-fighter.
"But even with that, it feels weird to say, but I feel… better? Like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders? I honestly didn't realize how stressful keeping that secret was."
"Living a double life is hard." He nodded. "You have to be certain type of crazy to be able to handle that."
"Yeah." He let out a heavy breathe, plums of swirling fog following. "You know, if there's one thing I'm looking forward to it's actually getting a full night's sleep for once. Waking up early and going to bed late is awful."
"So you're quitting the Circuit?"
"Yeah." His voice was small and defeated. "I did promise after all."
'And unlike me, you'll actually keep your promise with them.'
It was a biting comment that didn't need to see the light of day. Unnecessarily confrontational on a night already jam packed with heated emotions. So, Albert held his tongue.
"Good." He said instead. "From everything so far, I don't think the Circuit is going to be around much longer. Even without me poking at things. It's gotten too huge and it happened during the worse possible time. They got the upper crust involved and from what I heard, things are going to get a lot worse."
"That's good, I guess?"
A few moments passed between them before Albert asked the burning question jumping for attention at the back of his skull.
"Why did you join the Black?"
He'd been given a time frame, but this guy just ignored that and dived head first into it.
At this question, Malcolm only looked up at the night sky. The smog so heavy that it made the waning gibbous above seem blurry, like they were looking at it through a film.
"Winter is coming. And you know what that means?"
"No?"
"It means, we're going to have to compete with seasonal workers for jobs." Slumping over his knees, he stared down at the random piece of concrete that absorbed all of his attention. "Unskilled labor is already a pretty competitive field but we make it work, but with seasonal workers all that goes out the window. They'll work for less money and not give a damn about the working conditions. Sure companies might have a high turn over rate but even if each seasonal worker only lasted a day or two, they'll already have five others to fill in that spot. We're good at our jobs but...not that good to compete with lower wages like that."
"It happens every year, so this time around I decided to try and stock up some extra cash to hold us over until after New Years. And that's when I approached Bautista..and the rest is history. I made some real good money that night and said I could come to him anything to make the Black my permanent region."
'Yeah, your final resting place more like it.'
"He's going to have a cow when I tell him I'm done." Malcolm groaned, leaning back and putting a forearm over his eyes. Obviously not too keen on having that conversation. "But I owe him that much...besides I don't really want him showing up at my job or home looking for me."
"Do you have a business card from him or anything?"
"Oh?" He looked over, surprised. "You're still going after them? I thought you were going to drop it when I promised to stop going?"
"Do you not want to know whose behind all this?"
"No, I mean yes? I do want to know, just out of sheer curiosity at this point. And like the real person behind everything, not the scapegoat they're going to plaster across every news station, you know? But, I do have his business card. You can have it, if you want it. I don't really have a use for it anymore. Wait here and I'll go get it."
"No it's fine." He stood to his feet, stretching high into the sky as slight popping could be heard from him. Plans weaving together into intricate patterns, forming a sort of web. "Get some sleep and send me the details in the morning. We both need a good night's sleep after today."
"Okay." He too stood, easily dwarfing the teen. A small but tired grin on his face. "Good night Albert...and you're still an asshole but thank you."
"That's my job."
Mirroring that crooked grin, he waved over his shoulder and slunk off into those dreary streets once more.