System Reboot || DC

Chapter Twelve

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The Mask is Dropped

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Gotham was a big enough city that you could run into someone and not see them for another month. Unless they unwittingly went out of their way to find you, you'd become one with the crowd, lost in the hustle and bustle of society.

For Jocelyn, this was a very impossible thing to avoid. Many people in her life would seek her out just to see her mortified expression as she scrambled to remain a nobody.

It started with Damian, then Bruce, and eventually Jason. Though their appearances were far and few between, Jocelyn came to suspect that it was no coincidence that their paths intertwined. In a city where cosplaying detectives spy from the night, there was no such thing as fate.

Selfishly, she wanted to continue living peacefully. So she did everything in her power to avoid any more "coincidences". She stayed at home, only leaving when she needed to run an errand. She ghosted Damian, which wasn't hard since he was horrible at responding to texts. Anytime she saw Jason, who stalked her normal paths, she'd duck her head and avoid standing out. With Bruce, she didn't have to do much; the man was busy enough that he had no time to waste chasing her.

Two weeks passed with her new sneaky strategy, and the number of mentally taxing run-ins changed to zero. With it, she could feel her heart relax and anxiety ease its vise-like grip. There was, without doubt, a part of her that felt guilty. But then came to the conclusion that their curiosity would soon fade and, with time, they'd forget that "Allison" even existed.

It was with this naive notion that she went out on a quick bread run, hoping to pick up a fresh loaf for lunch. She could have been resourceful and made it herself, but if there was one area she sucked at, it was bread. The stupid thing never rose or rose too much, came out uncooked or overcooked, too sweet or oddly salty. She drove her patience up the wall.

It was also, by chance, that the bakery she found online was a block away from MoonBean. her old cafe. There was a sensation, an urge, that pulled her away from the savoury-smelling shop and down the semi-quiet street. Peeking around the corner, she could see the same neon sign surrounded by healthy green plants.

Jocelyn saw it all over again. Her first opening, how no one came for the first few days It is slow business, barely selling anything, leaving her bored and mindless. How rewarding it felt when she could greet a plethora of different customers.

A bitter smile of remembrance pulled at her cheeks when she recalled meeting Dick for the first time. How obvious his hostility was, the tense shoulders, the off-handed comments. Barbara had called that same night to complain about his attitude and that she was sorry for his stubborn arse. But in reality, she hadn't minded his behavior. He reminded her of a cat acting coy and haughty only to roll over and act cute.

Lost in memory lane, she came to stand directly in front of the store, palm against the stone door framing. She wonders what life would have been like if she had been born on Earth. If her story had been tragic or boring, What kind of people would she have met? She would have been in love. Whether she would have been happy

"Jocelyn?"

"Yeah?" She wasn't thinking of turning around and looking towards the voice that called out to her. Upon seeing their faces, she could feel her heart drop to her stomach and her throat clog. Pulling the brim of her hat over her face, Jocelyn lowered her voice. "Sorry, you've got the wrong person."