Where I Didn't Grow Up - Huntress Muse
It was like walking through someone else’s home movies, Helena decided as she slipped into the suite of rooms that had long ago belonged to Dick Grayson. Like the rest of the manor it was tightly wrapped in plastic, down to the action figures that filled one high shelf. She peered through the sheeting, looking at the small plastic toys that were part of Dick’s childhood. She was more than a little surprised to see them at all. “Toys, wow, I’m shocked. I figured you were the Boy Hostage from day one,” her lips twisted into a smirk as she looked over the books that lined his shelves.
Large empty spaces marked the things that Dick had decided that he needed when he moved out, and she wondered what those were. “Could probably find an old record down in the Batcave. I’m sure the old man had the entire place wired. Watching you, making sure you weren’t doing anything he didn’t like. He never had any trouble finding out when I was being bad.” A cold shiver ran up Helena’s spine, and she had to force herself not to start tearing through the walls in the room she’d stayed in looking for a camera. “OK, I so didn’t need to go there. He was a shitty father, but that doesn’t mean he was a pervert.”
“Huntress,” Oracle’s voice tore her away from the chaos in her brain. “We’ve got some serious trouble at the New Gotham Cathedral. Are you still in the Batcave?”
“Nope, just making sure I didn’t forget anything when I ran out of this place,” she answered her voice back to its normal cheerful fuck the world cadence. “I’m heading down there now though. Can you shove me what’s up on the monitors there?”
“Of course,” she could almost see Oracle’s cat who ate the canary smile. “You’ll need to get there fast though. It’s like a warzone.”
Huntress’ eyes flickered to the jewel-toned blue of a Siamese cat as she stepped back into the darkness of the Batcave, and stepped into the bright pool of light that illuminated the Batcomputer. “Shit,” she hissed from between clenched teeth as the image of Harley Quinn’s carnage flickered over the screen, and she listened to the newscaster’s all too pleasantly bored voice announce the body count. “I’ll be right there.”
Her long black coat trailing behind her, much like Batman’s cape had done so many times in the past, she raced towards the sleek black car, and slapped her hand on the entry panel. Unlike the door to Wayne Manor, the Batmobile’s doors slid back almost faster than a blink of an eye, the interior glowing blue and green from the myriad displays on the vehicle. “Dad?” She shouted into the darkness sending the bats to spiraling scatters. “Mind if I borrow the car? Thanks! Bye!”
With a squeal of tires, she let the Batmobile’s guidance computer steer her out of the narrow tunnels that connected the Cave with the city, but once out on the street, she wrapped her fingers of her left hand over the steering wheel and draped her right over the joystick that had more buttons than any arcade game she’d ever seen. “Oracle? You there?” she spoke towards the communications array.
“Got you on my radar, Huntress. You know the way?”
“Yeah, but I’m better from the rooftops. You know any short cuts to get me past the traffic on the bridge?”
“Check your heads up display now.”
Huntress leaned back a bit more into the seat of the Batmobile, feeling a bit odd as it conformed to every movement and curve of her body to support and protect her from danger while she rocketed through the night. “Got it,” she said taking a hard right, which would have sent a normal car into a roll over down an embankment. “Damn, this is sweet. Remind me why I don’t have a cool car like this.”
Huntress - Helena Kyle
Fandom Birds of Prey
Word Count - 661