"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty."
Years ago, the vigilante known only as Aponi suffered a terrible tragedy. Something that still follows her. Something that makes he...
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September 24th, 1989
398 Rosenberry Ave., Gotham City
11:30 p.m.
(Y/n)'s P.O.V.
I stumble up the steps to my apartment, rubbing my eyes and trying to remove the stinging pain from them. Whatever Batman smashed on the ground is still hindering my senses. Thankfully, Gordon gave me a bottle of water to wash my eyes out and a ride home.
After I manage to find my key, unlock the door, and shut it, I don't have time to turn around before she hobbles over to me.
"Are you hurt?" Josephine demands. "Are you okay? What happened?"
I turn around and hug her gently. "No, Grandma. I'm okay now."
"Mija, your dress is completely dirty! Who the hell attacked you?"
"Nobody, I'm okay. I just got called into work at the party."
"And your eyes are red! Did someone throw tear gas at you?"
"No, I'll tell you about it later."
"No bruises? No cuts? No-"
I hold the brown, wrinkled hand caressing my cheek and squeeze it. "Grandma, I'm okay."
The seventy five year old woman before me smiles and hugs me again. "I missed you, aponi."
Closing my eyes, I whisper, "I missed you too."
By now, she's used to me coming home late due to being a vigilante. But still worries her head off every time I come back past seven and threatens to beat up every criminal in the city who so much as looks at me funny.
Especially when I look like shit hit the fan.
"It's late. Did you eat yet?"
Right on cue, my stomach growls. My grandma sighs but pushes me towards the hallway that leads to the bathroom and my room.
"I'll make you some soup. Go rinse your eyes with more water."
"Wado, Grandma."
While she puts a small pot on the stove, I walk to my bedroom down the hall. I sit on my bed and start changing out of my dress, grateful to finally get it off me. After carefully placing it in the laundry basket, I put on a pair of blue flannel pajamas. I wrap the huge purple blanket my grandma crocheted for me around my shoulders and observe my room.
It still looks the same as it has for the past few years. Tiny closet, filled with the books I brought from home. Small but comfortable bed, with my blue dreamcatcher hanging above it. The grey feathered earrings Grandma gave me when I came to live with her. My small sage bundle in my abalone shell.
