See You in the Storm

11

Two months pass with nothing new. My life falls into routine, lie and murder and somehow enjoy myself along the way. I don't know what's happening to me, but each day I spend like a real teenager would, I find it harder to live a double life. The lines have started to blur, mascara washing off in a rainstorm. Dick and I's physics project is slowly taking form, my job at the diner is steady and reassuring, I've only had ten targets in the past few weeks. Normalcy is no longer a foreign concept, but something that has settled in my gut. 

I work four days a week at the diner, sometimes more because there's only four of us. Bass is chatty, he gives me hot chocolate to take home on cold nights. Shelby is sweet, she hangs up her crochet tapestries in the back alongside old film posters and records. Hank is the same, I'm still trying to wiggle my way through the cracks in his gruff demeanor, but he means well. 

And in the life of Hellstorm, it's been smooth sailing. I've run into Nightwing once, but he didn't stick around long enough to chat, leaving with a bruised jaw and leaving me with split knuckles that are still healing. We bickered more than fought nowadays, especially since he realized my powers were back. He became familiar quicker than I had hoped, I don't know why I haven't shocked him to death and sent his body to my boss. That was my job, the only thing that could save Ethan, and yet I faltered every time. Time is running out and his identity is just as unknown as it used to be. 

Winter has settled in Gotham, and as I walk home, umbrella held low over my head, I realize just how much time has passed. Ice coats the sidewalk, flurries of snow and rain dampen my hoodie and sweatpants. The wind chill is enough to catch hypothermia, my nose is a painful red welt. MAZZY STAR is blasting through my earbuds so loud that I don't notice the blue and black suited hero until he drops down in front of me. 

I stuff my earbuds in my pocket and look up at him, frowning. "Hello?" 

"Hi," he says.

My heartbeat quickens as Nightwing stares at me. Maybe he's figured out that I am also the vigilante he's been fighting and now he's here to ambush me and stick me right alongside my brother in Arkham. "Hi." Is all I can squeak out. I don't know what he wants from me; if I should run or play it cool. "Do you need something?"

He shakes his head, water flying off his hair. Soaked, because superheroes don't get the grace of an umbrella when they're on duty. "Just saying hi, I saw you on my way home."

I nod. "Hi."

He blinks, blue eyes gleaming.

If I could just get closer, see who he is a little better. There must be some clue that I'm missing. 

I get my chance when lightning strikes and I instinctively step closer. Maybe lightning can strike him and then I can rip off that god damned mask. I hold the umbrella above us both, rain pattering against the fabric. 

He grins and I study his face. There isn't much to see beyond the mask, just tan, chiseled skin. My fingers burn, fire slips up into my chest, easing through my limbs. Crazy. I am going crazy. He doesn't understand how much I need him, how my hands physically ache to peel away his stupid fucking costume and ruin his life. Figuring his secret out is the only thing that keeps me awake at night, the only thing that keeps my heart beating. 

But I can't do a fucking thing.

Instead I walk away and he follows, limping after me like a wounded dog. 

"Are you hurt?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Nothing I can't sleep off," he replies. 

Yeah, I've said that phrase before. Actually in reference to the concussion he gave me a few months ago.  "You sure?"