BATMAN || Automatonophobia || a fanfiction story

||CHAPTER NINE||

No sign of the twins who had greeted their parents warmly, young and ever so innocent all those years ago. No sign of the twins who had moved to Gotham to pursue a normal life with everyone else, partying, driving recklessly in group hideouts for the street racers that barely went under the GCPD's radar.

No sign of them at all.

Solane and her brother took their time agreeing and disagreeing on Solane's moral justice to continue ridding Gotham of its evil. Eventually Solane had ultimately won him over, even then the thought of what their parents would think of this made Sol's stomach churn.

This is wrong, I should be a better example for her, I shouldn't let her do this. No. I have to do this to protect her, she's the only family I have left, I will never be able to sleep or live with myself if something happens to her. The words sat on Sol's tongue as he lifted a leg around his bike and revved up the engine.

Had they both turned to justifying crime against the real evil worth it? Was breaking the law to protect people and his sister worth it? That question conflicted him, but one thing was for certain, no amount of humanity in him would overpower his love for his sister. Yet, he still asked himself over and over, it haunted his mind every breath and step he made.

His muscled chest rising and falling as he drew a breath, driving his motorbike with ease towards the apartment, he glanced up at the sky momentarily.

No bat-shaped signal lighting up the dawn. Sol couldn't really decide whether or not he was disappointed or not, he scoffed at the thought. His sister had been continuing her sessions for her diagnosis: post-traumatic stress disorder, it would trigger anytime she had to be in-depth about their parents or witnessing similar things happening to other people.

Solane going to therapy more often? That was fine-that was good. Necessary. Vital...That diagnosis was the last thing he needed to hear that morning, his friends overhearing with short gasps and mumbles of sympathy. However with her frequent therapy it satisfied him to know she had been progressively doing better. Hopefully she'll be able to put it to rest, he thought to himself frowning.

Sol couldn't wait to just blow off some steam at the local gym a couple blocks from his apartment. He knew the gym would be empty at the time of night. Day. Whatever five-thirty a.m was classified as.

He would make every punch, kick count, he'd make it count for every poor soul who was helpless against the brooding evil of Gotham.

Not for just them, or himself. For his sister too.

Her leg swung beneath her as she sat still looking on at Gotham, it looked much smaller than she remembered, last she saw Gotham it was glorious and vast as if it would never end and its lights put on a show the day could never dream of having compared to night.

But now it wasn't much of that anymore. Solane let out a loud breath of unamusement as she still sat idly there on a rooftop of one of the abandoned buildings that had yet to be claimed by an owner (besides young and old drug dealers of course).

As Solane eased herself to stand up, her black leather long coat draped back over her thighs down near her ankles, she wore a punk style crop-top underneath that had a long sleeve on one side and a set of straps; one wrapping just under her breasts and the other from her shoulder to her armpit.

For leggings she bore black trousers with small pouch straps that wrapped around one thigh, her knife strapped to her other thigh. She pulled out her phone and opened the screen lock, going to her messages she only had to type in a 'C' for her search bar to know exactly who she intended to text.

Jonathan Crane was an interesting individual to say the least, he wasn't an easy man to puzzle together no matter the effort Solane put in studying every twitch, movement, or even his tone of voice was just so carefully calculated. Every week she would see him it seemed to never get boring either, she chuckled at the memories of their pleasant conversations.

Solane lifted her coffee to her lips as Crane was scribbling down something "got any hobbies besides burying your nose in peoples minds?" she asked with a daring smile that seemed to challenge him, her smile faded when she took a drink of the coffee. He laughed. "Chemistry is a side hobby of mine," Crane said, pushing his glasses back up the rim of his nose, "like testing to see what happens if you mix and mishmesh certain things together to make something entirely new, or just another recipe".

Solane set her cup down and raised an eyebrow at him in an impressed manner and hummed in amusement "recipes huh? Knowing how the medical institutions are they'd only let you do that sort of thing to cure cancer" both adults chuckled at that, Crane leaning back in his chair "sounds about right" he replied dryly.

She got up from her side of the desk, swinging her purse to her side "let's not get into political talk, we all know those self absorbed rich men and woman spit all over the poor and the desperate" Crane nodded in agreement as he gathered his things, as soon as he stood up he had towered over her. Like most men do. "Anyway, I'd hate to be a party crasher but I should get back to work" Solane spoke slowly, her tone having a pout of disappointment. A playful gesture, she loved to tease.

"Arkham cant handle the unstable cronies by itself" Crane added casually with a smile curved on his face as he opened the door for her, Solane couldn't help but chuckle at him as she walked out "I'll talk to you later professor" she waved him off in playful dismissal as she made her way out of the main office of the room.

Solane pressed Cranes contact and it opened the text messages, she used her thumb to scroll past the old texts to the current ones she had left him two days from now, she sheepishly started to text him, the light dimly shining on the skull-design painted on her face. 

Solane: Hey, sorry if you're busy. Mind if I head to the shop now? She clicked send. A few seconds flew by before the reply bubble appeared, butterflies in Solane's stomach grew more with impatient anticipation.

Crane: I'll be a little bit, but you can, I don't mind. She stood up from sitting on the roof and began walking. Solane: Okay, see you in a few then. Before she put away her phone she messaged Sol letting him know shed be coming home a bit later than usual, it was a bit unprofessional to go out with your therapist for coffee -not a date, hell no- she had a weird feeling her brother would assume too much of her, but as she felt the wind on her body as she flipped off the roof she was on to a roof below her she dismissed that speed bump, it was insignificant. 

I'll deal with him later.