Only in Darkness

4: Cop Killer

Detroit, Michigan

2018

Marlowe hated the cold. With everything in her being. She loved the snow though. She only ever saw it on tv growing up, no white Christmas's for her. The first time she had seen it in person was the first time she had been shipped off to Gotham.

"Seven concussions, six fractures, broken ribs, two punctured lungs, a dislocated shoulder, and more scrapes than they could count." Jack finished his list, appalled at his daughter's lack of restraint while she just breezed by him. A second wave of disappoint and disbelief rolled through him like a tsunami, "That's not even taking Garcia's injuries into account-"

"He got what was coming to him. They all did. People should know by now, you pedal drugs in Opal you get the business end of Cos." Marlowe interrupted, the Staff letting out conflicted chirps of pride and low moans of regret as their current wielder put them safely back in their clear rack, beside the bare mannequin meant for her suit.

Turning to face her dad, Marlowe crossed her arms defensively over her chest, "Would you rather it had been me with the concussion, dislocated shoulder, punctured lung, and six fractures?"

Jack sighed, losing steam as his shoulder's dropped, eyes softening as he took in the bruise forming on his daughter's cheek, "No, of course not, but-"

"They were hurting people dad. There is no but." Marlowe said, interrupting him once again, drawing a sigh from the man in his seat. Lights glinting off the cane leaned beside him on the computer table, "As far as I'm concerned, they got off easy. They get to live. The same can't be said for their fifteen victims. A number that is still growing by the way."

Jack knew what this was about and he felt all of the negative emotions, the voices in his head telling him to discipline her in some way, dull from a roaring crowd to weak pleas.

"They weren't the ones that sold her the hot shot Mar-"

"Don't. My mom has nothing to do with this-"

"Watch your tone." Jack snapped and Marlowe's mouth clamped shut, "She has everything to do with this. To do with how rough you are with dealers and operations like the Fallen Angels and the Russians and whether you want to acknowledge it or not Marlowe, it's getting out of hand."

You're losing control. 

Jack continued, his voice taking on a gentler tone, "I really think you should talk to Canary-"

"I already told you no. I'm fine."

"Marlowe-"

"Father-"

"I think you could use some time away."

"What?" Marlowe laughed, thrown from the sudden shift in conversation.

"Rick can handle things on his own for a bit." Jack felt like he was walking to his own funeral with the way his daughter was looking at him. Hurt starting to bleed into the irises that matched his own. "I called Bruce. He's more than happy to-"

Marlowe physically recoiled as if struck, "I'm sorry, slow down. What's happening here?"

"I called Bruce. He said he's more than happy to take you in for a month or two. Just to give you time to clear your head. He got a new Robin he needs help training, around your age, he thinks having a peer who has your experience will be beneficial."

"Does he now?" Marlowe kissed her teeth, laughing to herself without humor under her breath as her chin tipped down to her chest, "I'm guessing I don't have a choice?"