Blurred Lines.

Little Birdie, Little Birdie

The tears were blinding as I ran out the door and into the street. Jett was standing waiting for me smoking a cigarette. But I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to see anybody. I wanted answers and I wanted them now. 

I tried to be brave, but I knew that he seen right through my act. I wasn't as tough as I pretended to be. I didn't have everything under control. 

When he first mentioned my brother, I remembered the black headed boy with the dark eyes. I remember him running, screaming, and playing. I remember him lying in a pool of blood. I remember laughing. 

He knew that I knew something, but I couldn't share with him what I had done. Had I done it? There had to be some kind of explanation for what I was feeling. There was some explanation, right? 

Why did I feel like that I was really someone else? Why did I feel like that I was hiding who I really was? Why did I feel like I was going to break down at any moment and I was going to hurt people? 

I closed my eyes. It was a chilly winter night. It would have probably snowed if we were anywhere else in the world, but seasons don't seem to matter here. 

I wanted the cold to wash away every emotion that I was feeling. I wanted the cold to numb the pain and the memories from coming back. 

Had I really blocked out the memories of who I was before I was tossed in that cell? 

My head was spinning and I felt sick. I was panicking and I knew I was. I was having a panic attack and I knew that if I just breathed a little that I would be okay. I could escape this. But the more that I tried to calm myself, the more that I felt that familiar pull in the pit of my stomach. 

I just wanted my lungs to expand the way they were suppose to. I just wanted them to fill with air and clear my head, but that wasn't the case. They rebelled against their natural function and with each gasp of breath, I was losing more and more strength in my legs and almost fell to the ground. 

"Aggie.." It was Jett. He touched my shoulder, but I turned quick and pushed him back away from me. I pointed a finger, still gasping for breath.

"Don't. Touch. Me." It came out forced. He raised his hands up and backed away from me. In his defense, I did try to kill him not even twenty-four hours ago. 

"You need to calm down." I rolled my eyes at him. 

"I need .. you to shut up." I was breathing alittle easier. The heavy weight on my chest let up and I finally was calming down. The tears, however, weren't slowing down. I was angry at myself, at Red, at my life. 

"I have to leave." I didn't want to tell Jett where I was going. He'd tell Red and then Red would try to stop me. But there's nothing that I needed to do more than go and face my parents face to face and find out the monster that I really am. 

Or.. get the truth of what I remember. Maybe.. someone else had done it and I had just found him. Sometimes when people are upset they laugh at stressful situations. I know people who do that. 

But deep down, I knew the truth. Deep down, I knew I killed that kid. 

"How about you wait until morning. You're upset and you just need to rest." He tried calming me down, but I didn't need that. 

"You don't tell me what I need! I know damn well what I need!" I pushed by him and stormed toward the penthouse. 

"Listen, I don't know what you're planning to do tonight, but I promise you, that I will help you if you just wait until tomorrow." He's walking behind me trying to catch up with me. 

I push myself faster. I didn't need him to baby me. I didn't need him to tell me what I needed. I didn't want him around me any longer. 

"If you try to stop me, I will kill you." The words escaped my lips before I even realized what I was saying. 

He stopped following me then. I was relieved. I needed to get to Gotham and I needed  to find the bastards that threw me into the hole to die. 

"You won't make it out alive." He finally yelled in my direction. This stops me in my tracks, I turn to him and shrug. 

"None of us make it out alive, eventually." I turn around then. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Midnight at Gotham was the same that I remembered it. It smelled of rain and depression. It stirred something in my bones that made me extremely uncomfortable. 

I sat in a taxi the whole night. He kept trying to ask me questions, but I didn't answer anything. I left it a secret. I didn't want to say anything that was going to alert someone of my motives or of who I was. As far as everyone believed, I was dead. 

That's exactly how I planned to take it. 

I stood in front of Wayne Industries. The huge W was lit up and I thought about the man who owned the company. I thought about his sad story. His parents murdered before his eyes. He must be a lonely, angry man who throws himself into his work. 

Because the way that I see it, you don't expand a company in a matter of five years in the way that he did. 

I guess that's something that we have in common, Mr. Wayne and I. We're both lonely angry people. 

I continued on. I went to the last place that I had known my family to have lived. It looked exactly the same. Except for the mailbox. What was once a yellow mail box with four hand prints, was now blue, with black bold letters. 

I went to the nearest window and peaked in. I just wanted to see pictures on the wall. I just wanted to see if they were still here. But something told me they weren't. I was hoping that I'd find them in Gotham before morning. 

So, I went to the club that I knew all too well. Dad used to bring me here and I used to play with the other kids. We didn't know it then, but we were brought to the meeting place of some of the most dangerous criminals in the history of Gotham. But they weren't just uncles and aunts to us in our youth. 

Maybe that had something to do with the way that I am now. 

It took me longer than I would have liked to get to the secluded building hiding away from the rest of the city. Lights were one and music was playing. It would have been a night of crime for them. Most of the men were already drunk by this point, so sneaking in wouldn't be hard. 

But I didn't want to do that. I wanted to wait until I knew for sure that he was in there. I wanted to wait until I knew that what I was about to do was the right thing to do. 

"Agatha?" I heard his voice. I heard the voice that I hadn't heard in over three years and it sent shivers down my back. I closed my eyes and turned to face him. 

"Hello, Daddy."