Only in Darkness

7: Phone Calls

Interstate 80 motel

2018

The tension in the air was palatable, Rachel watching Marlowe walk across their room and lean her carrier on the wall like she had before. Looking away quickly when the older girl caught her staring.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer." Marlowe quipped, her tone and expression neutral as she moved to sit on her bed. Eyes falling to her duffle bags zipper and narrowing slightly before moving to Rachel and then her case on the table past the girl and then back.

Rachel didn't answer, just got up and walked through the adjoining door. Marlowe quick to follow, watching from the doorway as she messed with Dick's case, unable to open it. Moving on to another case, this one smaller and already open. Marlowe recognized it instantly as Wayne tech. Much like her own laptop in the middle of her duffle bag.

Rachel sat, starting to type something while Marlowe stood in front of Dick's case, running her fingers over the top. A small smile coming across her face, getting Rachel's attention. The girl watching Marlowe closely.

Marlowe shot Rachel a look out of the corner of her eye, feeling the teens eyes on her and leaving Dick's case alone. Instead plopping down on the foot of the bed closest to Rachel, leaning back on her hands and fixing the girl with a watchful gaze.

"What's in there?" Rachel pointed to the case on the table. Marlowe just raised an eyebrow, her face reading, you expect me to answer that? The girl sighed and looked back to the computer. Silence enveloping them for a while.

"You're scared of me."

"You're scared."

"No, I'm not." Marlowe shifted on the bed.

"You're lying."

"When you do what we do, there's no time to be scared. Either push past it or suffocate. It's up to you. Come find me when you're ready." Bruce turned on his heel, his shoes clicking tauntingly with every step, getting softer and softer. A promise of something getting farther and farther away. Slipping right through her fingers.

Not again.

Marlowe huffed, pulling a knee into her chest, "Yeah? And how do you know?" Rachel stayed quiet, "I've seen a lot of weird, messed up things Rachel, you don't even crack the top ten."

Lie.

"I'm ready. I'm not scared." Marlowe grit, stiffening her spine and standing straighter than she ever had. Bruce didn't even turn fully, barley glancing over his shoulder.

"You should be."

Another silence overtook the room Marlowe the one to break it this time. "Back in Detroit... you called me the girl with the golden staff. Why?"

"I saw it." Rachel turned, her eyes pleading with the girl in front of her. For what? Neither of them really knew. Marlowe stiffened, her whole body going rigid.

"You saw it." Marlowe's voice barley carried over the air. Rachel went back into her shell again, avoiding admitting anything by pretending she just hadn't heard Marlowe. She had said too much, instant regret weighting on her shoulders. Marlowe frowned, her hand clenching as she stood from the bed and walked over to Rachel, staying at least a foot away just in case. "How."

"There was a man, he was dressed weird. You were... younger, your hair was different, you were tied to a chair, crying. I could feel how scared and confused you were, you thought it was some kind of bad dream, but then he touched you right there-" Rachel, after some hesitation, started to answer. Reaching for Marlowe's side as if on instinct. The older girl dodged, faltering back a step, eyes wide, palms starting to sweat. Rachel dropped her hand and hesitantly glanced up at Marlowe, "and you screamed. Everything burned, I could feel your pain. Every night."