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Gabrielle Gomez

first person
     
FRIDAY, AUGUST 30, 2019 DOCTOR DONNA LOGANS OFFICE, SHIELD COMPOUND. HARLEM, NEW YORK. 8:21 AM
MY FOOT HITS THE GROUND impatiently. It’s a thing I do when I’m nervous or bored, I’ve been doing it on and off since I was six. My mother used to say she was going to beat the habit out of me. She tried and I’d stop for a while, a couple months (once even a year, it was impressive), but it’d always come back. She was never fully successful.Nowadays, I don’t have a mother to beat my nervous ticks out of me. Instead, I have a therapist telling me my feelings are valid and that everyone has nervous ticks. I’m not exactly grateful for that fact. Sometimes I wish she’d just take the pen she was using to jot down every time I do something ‘concerning’ and stab me with it. That’s part of the reason why I’m in therapy.It was times like these, when I was sitting in a therapists office in a specific part of the Shield Compound I resided in, that I missed my mother.Even if people told me she was a psychotic bitch.“Can I go back to missions?” I ask, my voice loud. I’ve always made sure to not have a low voice when asking a question. It was trained into me from a young age. One of the best things my mother taught me, actually (besides how to shoot a gun). ‘You will always be looked down upon, treated as if your opinion and questions are stupid. You are a child’ She’d said ‘But, you are my child. So it is important that your voice commands respect, not questions it.’Doctor Donna Logan has been my therapist since I first showed up at Shield a couple years ago. I go to her whenever Nick Fury (the director of Shield) and Agent O’Ryan (my ‘handler’ of sorts) decide I’m too fucked up to go on missions. Mainly, Fury is the one enrolling me in therapy. I had been doing good the last year or so, not a single failed mission and I had done nothing to induce a therapy session. That was until the mission in Dominican Republic. Now, I’m stuck seeing Donna two times a week.“I’m not seeing any improvement, Gabrielle.” Doctor Logan tells me.“I told you I don’t have nightmares anymore. I’d consider that improvement.”“Really? Cause I’d consider that lying.” Doctor Logan sighs, putting her notepad down to look me in the eyes. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”“The only ‘help’ I need is for you to clear me for missions.” I tell her. “It’s been two months. I want back in. Fury won’t even let me look at a damn file.”“You can’t get ‘back in’ until I know you’re mentally prepared for what’s going to happen, Gabrielle.” Doctor Logan’s voice is full of pity. Pity. One things I hate. Also, one of the only emotions she’s never been able to withhold. Doctor Logan talks a lot about how it’s okay to express emotions but, personally, I’d consider her the biggest hypocrite on Earth. She’s trained in psychology and emotions, the mind and the body. But she wasn’t trained like I was, she wasn’t trained to note every emotion on someones face, the slightest change in someones body language.Sure, she could notice that I had issues. I’m glad she’s putting her degree to use. But I don’t have a degree and I know her whole life’s story, I could trick her into confessing issues she has with her dead mom if I really wanted to, but I don’t because Agent O’Ryan informed me that that’s considered an invasion of privacy and that it will make her want to not clear me for missions even more.“I went on a mission. I underestimated the psychological impact my mom had on me.” In other words, I freaked out. “Just let me go on the easy missions. Like the ones inside the country.”Doctor Logan is silent for a minute. She flips back through her pages of notes she’s taken on me. “I need this.” I tell her. It’s true. I’ve felt useless doing nothing. Sitting around at the compound in unenjoyable, training is unenjoyable when I know I won’t be able to put any of the skills I learned to use, my entire life in unenjoyable without a mission. Because without a mission, what purpose do I have existing?Okay, maybe I shouldn’t tell her that last bit…“That’s the issue.” Doctor Logan informs me. “Why do you think you need a mission?”“Because I do. Why do you have to look into every word I say? You know, Doctor Logan, this is why I don’t talk.” I put my lips together and shrug. She doesn’t find me amusing.“My job is to look into every word you say.” You’re pretty shit at your job anyway, I think to myself. She looks at her notes once again, adds something probably along the lines of ‘thinks she needs mission to live’ followed by an underline ‘stems from mommy issues???’.“Logan,” I use her last name because I’m no longer going to call her ‘Doctor Logan’ out loud until she does good ‘Doctor’ shit, like clear me for a mission. “I have issues, everyone does. I’ll keep going to these stupid sessions, just clear me for a mission.”I’m aware I sound like an addict but I can’t help it. I blame my abusive mom. Or my absent father. Whatever answer makes me look better. Doctor Logan lets out a loud sigh. She gets up and grabs her keys then walks over to her drawer. It’s where she keeps her patient files. Once, when I was thirteen, I broke in to see what exactly she had on me. All it said was ‘Nice try.’I’m pretty sure that was the day I decided I hated her.I watch her pull out a file, she sits down in her chair and places the file on the desk, sliding it towards me. I give her a confused look but she only shrugs. “You want a mission, that’s your mission.” Okay. Maybe Doctor Logan is a good doctor.I try to hide my eagerness as I pick up the file—the last thing I need is for her to try to psychoanalyze that (‘Now, why do you think you were so happy to get a mission? Does it take you back to when your mother used to give you missions?’).On the first page of the file theres a school. East Lake Academy. Under it, a bunch of stuff is written. I skim it, trying to get the gist of it.East Lake Academy is a boarding school in Fares, New Jersey. It’s known for producing lots of lawyers and doctors. There used to be an art division but it shut down recently. Theres no mission objective or mission goals section in the whole file. I look up to Doctor Logan with a raised brow. It’s a good thing she’s not an agent. She’d be terrible at that job. “Whats the objective here, Doctor Logan?”“The objective is to attend East Lake Academy,” An infiltration mission then. Not my favorite but I’ll make do. “And figure out how to be a normal student.”My emotions shift immediately. I toss the file back on the desk and watch as papers fall out of it. “What the fuck.” I say. “Why would you do that? I thought it was a real mission.” You got my hopes up dies on my tongue as I send a glare her way. I feel like she heard it anyway.“You’ve had a difficult childhood.” She collects all the papers that fell out. “You don’t have a father, your mother was abusive. She trained you to become her assassin from a young age.”“Are you going to tell me my whole life story or is there a point?”“Then you came here, where you were told everything you had learned was wrong. That your mother was a terrible person because of the things she did, for forcing you to go on missions and kill innocent people.” I roll my eyes. It wasn’t as if I didn’t enjoy what she was making me do. “Then Shield hired you to do the exact same thing. I understand how hard and confusing that can be.”There was nothing confusing about it. Shield tried to let me be normal, I went to a couple foster homes for a bit. After a year they realized it wasn’t working out and used their brains to put a logical plan together. Why let skills like mine rot and run dry in foster homes when they could be put to use to do good?“You never had a chance to be normal.” Doctor Logan continues. “This is your chance.”I don’t say anything. It’s far too late for me to be normal. I think I’m incapable of doing such a thing. I can’t have a normal life with no adventure, no dodging bullets and shooting people who deserve it. I don’t know how to live a life like that. “Fury and O’Ryan agreed to this?”Doctor Logan nods. “Neil picked out the school.” I reach for the file again. If O’Ryan picked out the school it can’t be that bad. “I know you don’t like this idea but I think it’s crucial.”Crucial for what? My treatment? To be a normal fifteen year old kid? “If I do this,” I say as if I have a choice. “I can be cleared for missions.”“Eventually, yes.” Logan nods in agreement. “You’ll still have to attend these sessions. We’ll fit it into your schedule. If you participate in these sessions and go to school, I can have cleared for a mission as soon as November. So long as we make progress.”November. That’s months away from now. “And if I don’t?”“I’m not sure I’ll be able to clear you for a mission otherwise. But I am sure that I won’t have you cleared by New Years.” She answers honestly.I swallow and nod. “Fine then. I’ll look over the file, tell O’Ryan he can enroll me.”Doctor Logan smiles victoriously. “Good. I’ll see you off before you go.”We sit until the hour ends. She tells me about East Lake Academy and I listen to everything she has to say. When the sessions over, I leave rather quickly. It’s no surprise I find Agent O’Ryan outside. He looks at the folder in my hand and smiles. “She clear you or is that what I think it is?”Agent O’Ryan is in his thirties or forties, I’m not sure, but he looks relatively young. He has blonde hair and a charming personality. He’s considered my ‘handler’ because when I first left my assassin lifestyle, I ran into him. He turned me in, he placed me in every foster home, he suggested me to Shield, and—apparently—he claimed responsibility for any mistake I made while I was on probation. Not that I made many. Maybe one or two accidental kills in the beginning. They really should’ve specified that when I had a ‘target’ it didn’t necessarily mean to kill them.I push the file into his chest and he looks through it. “In all fairness, I thought that she was bluffing when she said she’d put you in school.”“Jersey. You picked a school in New Jersey.” I tell him. “I’ll have a dorm mate. I won’t be able to get any training done. I’ll fall behind.”“You’ll go the gym and keep up.” O’Ryan corrects. “Don’t act like there aren’t loop holes, Gomez.”“I’m going to school in Jersey. That’s literal hell. You’ve put me in my own hell, I will hold this against you for life.”“Look, Fury was gonna pick a school for you here in New York. I put you somewhere else, gave you a little distance.” He explains. “Give me more credit before you start complaining.”“Distance. About one hundred and fifty miles of distance.” I specify. “I’ll have to come back for sessions with Logan, do you know how annoying that ride is going to be?”O’Ryan rolls his eyes and smirks. “Someone hasn’t looked into the school.”“Oh, no. I don’t have to. Logan told me all about it. Did you know that East Lake Academy produces the highest numbers of lawyers, engineers, and doctors compared to any boarding school in all of America?” I say as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.“Yeah,” O’Ryan scans his Shield badge, a level eight—four above mine—and opens the door for us. “It’s a good cover, hides what I really sent you there for.”I give him a look. He simply smirks and hands me the file. “Why don’t you do your own research, Agent Gomez? Have a little faith in me. You and I are very similar, we thrive on missions.” O’Ryan walks away and I continue on to the section where my room is.I guess I have to figure out everything about East Lake Academy now.     
Damian Wayne

first person
    
SATURDAY, AUGUST 31, 2019 GOTHAM CITY, NEW JERSEY. 2:45 AM.
THE NOISE IN MY COMM IS loud. Spoiler and Red Hood talking over each other, arguing about something mundane. It is annoying to hear multiple people yelling. If you are going to yell, at least have the courtesy to switch channels. Like Batman and I. The moment my father opens his mouth, I switch channels. For a peaceful second there is only silence. Then there is yelling“You lack discipline. You lack responsibility. It is like you have never been trained a day in your life!” My father yells, which is absurd. I have trained every day of my life. Even if I was ill. I have never missed a day of training, if I didn’t have training scheduled with a family member, I’d take it upon myself to train. That is just who I am.Behind the man in the Batman suit is Nightwing, whos avoiding eye contact with me. Coward. He calls Batman to reprimand me but cannot even look me in the eye? I’m not surprised. For a while, around a year, Nightwing was my Batman. Then my father returned and Nightwing decided he couldn’t be a, as Timothy had dubbed it, ‘father figure’ to me anymore.Or maybe he just didn’t want to be. Maybe he was relieved my father came back. I don’t know. And a part of me doesn’t want to know.“Batman—”“No, Robin. This is it. You’re benched.”I suck my teeth in annoyance. Benched. I’ve been benched numerous times. Being benched I can deal with. It will probably only be for a week or so anyway. Batman leads the way to the Batmobile. “Nightwing, stick around. Make sure the police pick them up.” Nightwing nods and leaves without a second thought. I go into the passenger seat. The moment I do the car starts moving. We’re in silence for a total of one hundred and seventy-two seconds before Batman breaks it. “Do you remember the school we talked about?”It takes me a moment to answer. Saying ‘we’ is very off-putting. I had only said one thing, he had talked a majority of the time. The school he was referring to was East Lake Academy. It was roughly three hours away from Gotham. Father had suggested it as a school, apparently it was extremely good. In response, I told him I much rather attend Gotham Prep. I assumed that had been the end of the conversation. It was stupid of me to be that naive. “Vaguely.”“We should revisit the idea.”“I disagree.” I tell him immediately, clicking my jaw together. I look over at the man avoiding eye contact. I see where Nightwing gets it from. I suppose it is true that mannerisms can be picked up from parents. It is a good thing Batman is rarely there for me as a father. “I do not want to attend East Lake Academy. It is all the way in Fares. I will not be able to operate as Robin during the school year.”Batman says nothing to that. That makes me think that's the idea. “Father, for how long exactly am I benched from being Robin?”“This will be good for you Damian.” Batman tells me.“Evading is not like you, father.” It is actually. My father almost always evades giving me direct answers. It is my greatest issue with him. Or, one of the many, I suppose.“Until further notice.” Father glances at me for a second, gauging my reaction. It is good I still have my mask on. I’m good at masking my expressions, I always have, but recently I’ve noticed my eyes can sometimes give me away. They display too much emotion, it is quite upsetting. My mother would be disappointed.My grandfather would kill me.“If I am already benched for who knows how long then why do I need to go to another city? Is benching me not enough?” I look at the man I call father with annoyance. That is the only emotion I will allow to show. Annoyance. And, perhaps, a bit of anger.“This is a matter of discipline. You don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to your siblings—”“What on Earth does this have to do with them?” I cut him off but he ignores me and continues on anyway.“—You don’t listen to your teachers or peers. This will be good for you. I went to a private school.” Batman points out as he pulls into the Batcave and exits the car.“A private school and a boarding school are two different things.” I exit the car as well. “You are being absurd.” Batman takes off the cowl and walks away but I follow after him, ripping off my own mask. “I can train more father, I can be more responsible. I will do whatever is necessary, just do not send me to this school.”My father turns to me. He looks tired. He’s frowning like he feels bad, like it isn’t his decision when we both know it is. My schooling is one of the many things in my life that he is in control of. “It’s already been decided, Damian. You leave soon, you should pack your bags.”Without another word he enters the locker room, presumably to shower and rid himself of his suit. I stay there staring for a moment, before turning quickly and punching the nearest wall. This is about Alfred. It had to be. He still blames Pennyworths death on me, I can’t say I fault him for that, but sending me away because I remind him of the failure he made me into?I punch the wall twice more, leaving a fist sized dent.“Jesus,” A voice interrupts me. “What’s got you like that?” Red Hood must have entered in on his motorcycle. His mechanical voice annoys me to no extent. I figure it annoys others too. Most of us change our voices slightly, since I’m good at mimicking it is easy for me but, for the most part, I just try to avoid talking in front of civilians.“Nothing. It is none of your business.” At that, Red Hood nods taking off his helmet. He must’ve returned just after us.“Ah, no worry. I speak pissed off Robin.” Jason smirks. “So, for how long is the little bird benched for this time. A week?” I give him no reaction and move to put my sword in it’s rightful place. “Two weeks? Wait, don’t tell me it’s for a month.”I groan in annoyance. I know that’s his goal. To annoy me until I tell him. Normally I would play along until I got bored but tonight I do not have the patience. “I am benched until father sees it fit.”Jason winces slightly at that, letting out a dramatic low whistle. “So that’s what your hissy fits about? Come on, I’m sure Bruce will give in after a week of seeing you sulk.”I snort at that. ‘Seeing’. “Father won’t be seeing me at all, much less seeing me sulk.”“I’m sorry, come again?” Jason gives me a confused expression. "Is this your weird way of saying you're running away? Cause I support, but you know Dick will have something to say about it."“He plans to ship me off to boarding school. He told me to pack so I can only assume that it starts within the next few days.”“You’re kidding.” Jason’s face goes blank. “He’s shipping you off?”“Yes. To Fares. He is under the impression that it will show me discipline and responsibility more than he could.”“Typical,” Jason scoffs. “So fucking typical. Things get hard and Bruce decides to not be a father anymore. What an asshole.”I swallow a deep annoyed sigh. The last thing I want is to be at fault for a family argument or for Jason declaring himself an orphan again. “It is not a big deal.” I say. That is the only attempt I will make at calming him, there is nothing else to say and he’s not my responsibility to tame. “I am going to go shower.”Without another word or glance to Jason I go upstairs. I will shower in my bathroom to avoid father. Though I won’t be able to avoid the man for long.This was going to be a great year.   
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2019 GOTHAM CITY, NEW JERSEY. WAYNE MANOR. 8:55 AM
“DAMIAN, DO YOU NEED HELP PACKING?” I look over to see my eldest brother leaning against the doorframe of my room. My room is, for once, a mess. Though compared to my siblings’ rooms I’d say it’s a neat mess. There are three luggages in my room, all of them open. My clothes are all separated into groups.“That is not necessary, Richard.” I say as I fold one of my dark gray turtlenecks and place it in one of my luggages. “I told you that yesterday.” Last night, Jason sent a message to me saying he’d try to convince Bruce about the boarding school but it wasn’t working out too well. Followed by a bunch of messages that were particularly vulgar. My phone was on the table and the message was visible to Richard, who was beside me at the time.Since then, Richard hasn’t left the manor. Usually, he’s insistent that Bludhaven needs him. Now he seems to think that I need him. Which I don’t. I never have.I don’t need anybody.Richard doesn’t listen to me, instead entering my room, grabbing one of my pants, and folding it into a luggage. I pause my folding to sigh, gripping the luggage in front of me out of annoyance. “Richard.”I hear him stop moving and turn to look at him. “I’m trying to help you, Damian. What Bruce did—”“He did not do anything.” I go back to folding my shirts. “He sent me to boarding school. It is not a big deal. Drakes father sent him to a boarding school when he was younger, did he not?”“He did, but Jack Drake and Bruce aren’t the same person. Neither are you and Tim. And Jack wasn’t using boarding school as a punishment.”I wasn’t around during that time but I’m pretty sure Drakes father was using boarding school as punishment. Perhaps Drake and I are more similar than we first imagined.“Why are you acting as though I can change his mind?. I cannot. Trust me, I have tried. Father stands firm in his decision to send me away. It is not my choice.”I actually hadn’t spoken much to Bruce. I didn’t speak to him at all yesterday. I spent the first day arguing with Bruce over his idiotic decision but when I noticed Bruce wouldn’t budge, I focused on ignoring everything he did. Bruce would try to talk to me and I would walk away. Bruce would cook and I would order take out. Bruce would order take out for two, and I would cook for myself. It was a petty thing to do but I didn’t have any other option available.Richard stays silent as I finish packing the luggage. He just sits on the floor of my room staring at a pair of pajama pants with a single Nightwing symbol in the corner. Typical. So full of himself. At least he isn't packing. Richard could not fold clothes if his life depended on it. “Will you be driving me there?”“Oh,” Richard looks over at me. “I can if you want. I’m sure Bruce won’t mind.” Of course he wouldn’t. He’s sending me away.“I do not care who takes me.” I go to another one of my luggage’s. The dark blue one. I start putting pajamas followed by some shoes in it.I take the pajama pants out of Richard’s hand and place it in the luggage. “When do you return to Bludhaven?”“Tomorrow.” Richard says. “Well, today technically. But if I drive you then I’ll get there tomorrow.I shake my head and finish packing the dark blue luggage. “It is not necessary. Someone else will do it. Or perhaps father will allow me to drive myself.”“Maybe.” Richard gives me a half smile and I acknowledge it as I shut my luggage and move onto the one he was ‘packing’.“Is this really what you call packing?” Everything was thrown in messily and disorganized. Pennyworth is rolling in his grave. “It is a good thing you keep clothes here for whenever you visit. This,” I gesture to the luggage as I empty it out. “Is how you wrinkle clothing.”Richard laughs as I restart the packing of the last luggage, a simple dark red one, from scratch. I don’t understand what he found funny, I was being completely serious. When I’m done packing I grab the backpack I intend to use for school and Richard assists me with bringing the luggage’s down.Father is leaving the kitchen while I’m at the front door. He looks at me and says, “Are you done?”I say nothing and take two of my bags outside. I don’t put them in the trunk, only near the car. A moment later Richard joins me. “Are you gonna keep ignoring him?”“Yes.” I respond simply, earning a sigh from the older man. We stand there awkwardly for a moment then I grab my luggage from him and return to the remaining two. I take two of my luggages in one hand, leaving the third luggage in my other hand. “Goodbye, Richard.”“Bye Dami. I’ll see you for Thanksgiving, yeah?”“Perhaps.” I agree even though I know I will more than likely to return for Thanksgiving. I watch Richard return back into the manor, presumably to argue with Bruce, and move to put my luggage into the trunk of Bruce’s car.When I’m done I stare at the manor. I can remember my first years at the manor, the absurdity of them. The confusion of American standards, attempting to kill Timothy, cooking with Pennyworth.All good memories.I’m pulled out of my thoughts by the honking of a horn. I turn my head to see Jason’s car, when my eyes look into the front seat I don’t see Jason Todd but instead, I see Duke Thomas. “Need any help?”Duke moved out of the manor on a month or so before his eighteenth birthday. I haven’t really talked to him since. It is…odd. There was a time when I didn’t go a day without conversing with the daytime hero. Now, I have gone weeks. We haven’t spoken since his birthday, August thirteenth, when we had a small family lunch. Just father, Duke, and I. Then Duke went to visit his parents.“What are you doing here?” I ask, ignoring his question and looking into the car.“Jason told me Bruce was shipping you off. He also told me you were ignoring him. I figured you’d need a ride to this boarding school.”“Richard is here.”I watch Dukes nose scrunch up. Duke has always disliked Richard, for reasons I’m unsure of. It doesn’t go as deep as the rivalry Cassandra and Jason have and it’s not as loud as Timothy and I had been in the past years. It was more of a silent, one sided hatred.“Well. Let’s be honest here, Damian. Would you rather take a what, two hour drive, listening to Dick,” Duke put an emphasis on his name. “Whine about how sorry he is for you and look at you all guilty while listening to annoying pop songs. Or would you rather come in the cool-kid car and listen to cool-kid music? Choice is yours.”I don’t tell him that Richard isn’t the one taking me. That his competition is Richard, it’s father (and that he’s winning by a landslide).“Can I pick the music?” I question, even though I already decided to join him. Music was something Duke held dear, like most people. I don’t have any particular hatred towards listening to music, nor do I require it to enjoy myself while driving.Duke thinks it over. “You can pick one song and, I’m saying this now, I’m not listening to Beethoven.”I roll my eyes but open the trunk I had just shut and place all my baggage into Duke’s (Jason’s) car. When I get in the front seat I put on my seatbelt. “Knew you’d pick right. Dicks a dick sometimes.”I don’t confirm nor deny this. It’s best not to fuel Dukes hatred or to get him started on it. I made that mistake once. Never again. Duke hands me his unlocked phone. “One song.” Duke reminds me.When we start to drive away I can see my father’s figuring watching us. He looks a little annoyed, a little bit guilty.I pick The Architect by The Chamber Orchestra of London and Andrew Skeet. I had found out a while ago Duke didn’t mind classical music as much as the rest of my siblings did. In fact, sometimes it looked like he enjoyed it.I glanced over at Duke who was tapping on the wheel to the beat, hyper focused on not hitting the curb.Duke Thomas was probably one of my favorite siblings at the moment.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Gabrielle Gomez

first person

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2019. FARES, NEW JERSEY. EAST LAKE ACADEMY. 10:57 AM

AGENT O’RYAN ISN’T the one who drives me down to East Lake Academy, Agent Isabelle Gordon is. The car ride is hours of arguing and Agent Gordon constantly blasting music I’ve never heard before (which leads to arguments about my ‘limited taste’). I’ve only ever been on missions with Agent Gordon a handful of times and on all occasions she annoyed me so much I genuinely considered running into open fire. One time I did. I got reprimanded for that though along with two weeks worth of paperwork. Lesson learned I suppose.Agent Gordon offers to help me carry my bags up to my dorm but I refuse her help. “It’s only two luggage’s and a duffle bag. Besides, I’m sure you have important work to do.”Isabelle nods at that and hands me a key along with a wrapped box. It looked like a present, it had a little note attached to the top. Then she’s reaching into her pocket and pulling out a phone. It’s a new one I’ve seen on the news before. A black Stark-Tech phone with a glass back, on it is a clear phone case that’s not at all protective. “My numbers in there, O’Ryans too.”“My phone now works just fine.” I tell Isabelle.“I’m sure. Think of it as a gift.”“This is a gift.” I gesture to the present in my hand. “That’s a phone.” Isabelle sets me with a look and I end up taking the phone. I’m not usually one to turn down gifts, anyway.Isabelle nods happily at that. Sometimes I wonder how she got into this life. Not that she was bad at it, God no. She was good. Too good. “Have fun. You’re too young for this type of stuff.”I try not to show how annoyed that statement made me. I’m tired of being told I’m too young. Agent Gordon knows that better than most. “Yeah. See you around, Agent Gordon.”“See you, Agent Gomez.” She watches me as I place the present on a luggage and safely roll the luggages to my building. There are currently three dormitory buildings in East Lake Academy. Whittemore Hall, Montgomery Hall, and Lannington Hall. All buildings were four stories, the middle two of each of those stories dedicated to the dormitories, and the rest are laundry rooms, restrooms, gyms, and things of the sort.The key in my hand went to Whittemore Hall, it had a symbol of a wolf on the front of it and on the back were the numbers 231.With a sigh, I made my way over to Whittemore hall, it was a large dormitory. I read it had around 300 rooms. I get into the elevator and hit floor two.I’ve read a lot of things on East Lake Academy. Overall, it’s pretty boring. They had a fire a couple years ago, burnt down Aldridge Hall—the dormitory between Montgomery and Whittemore hall, labeled as the art division—for reasons that are undisclosed due to privacy but publicly declared as an accident. They clearly hadn’t gotten around to rebuilding it, though it is closed off.The elevators are slow. It takes forty-seven seconds for the door to close—even though I hit the button to shut it. After it closes, the ride is quick. I exit on floor two and walk in the direction of the thirties.I find my room easily and put the key in. I expected the room to be empty. Bare. But when I open it, half the room is decorated and there is an Asian girl on the bed.The girl shoots me a happy look. She has her hair out, with a small braid and pink tinsel in it. She’s wearing a black arm sleeve with an off-the-shoulder black top and black shorts with fishnet tights underneath. To top it off, the girl has black boots on.Overall, she looks like she walked out of a Hot-Topic store in the 2000s.“Oh my gosh!” The girl says. “You must be my new roomie. I’m Hazel Liu. What’s your name? Do you sleepwalk? I don’t but I do talk in my sleep sometimes, I feel like that’s something you should know. My friend's roommate sleepwalks. She hates it. Also, I took the left side of the room, but if you want the left I’m totally open to switching. I only took the left because when I go into a room I naturally walk to the left so I prefer it. But if you’ve got a better excuse, I’m open to hearing it.”After Hazel's rant, I stare at her until I register everything she says. “Hi. Gabrielle Gomez. No, I don’t sleepwalk. And I’m fine taking the right side.” I move to put my luggages and my present on my side of the room. I open the large duffle bag around me and get out the sheets for the bed.“I’ve already sanitized the whole dorm.” Hazel tells me politely, which was good because I probably wasn’t going to do that. I began making my bed with the sheets Agent O’Ryan bought. They’re an appealing gray color. I don’t mind the color, but it’s not my favorite. I don’t exactly know if I have a favorite.I move on to unpacking my clothes once the sheets and bedding are all done. “You’re new, right? You didn’t go here last year?” Hazel asks me, clearly not getting that I’m not that interested in conversation.But, well…I do want to blend in, and befriending my roommate seems like a good first step. “I didn’t. I take it you did?”“Yup. Started here last year. Then before that, I went to a boarding school in Gotham. Guess it wasn’t far enough away from my dad 'cause he sent me here.” Hazel shrugs as she gets up from her bed and opens a drawer. “Twizzler?”I eye the food in her hand, ignoring her trauma dump. “What’s that?” Hazel's face morphs into one of shock and I raise a brow“Oh my God, you’ve never had a Twizzler? Scratch that. You don’t know what a Twizzler is?” Hazel puts a long red thing in my hand. Twizzler, she called it. “It’s candy.”“Oh,” I wrinkle my nose at it. “I don’t eat candy.” At Shield I was on a strict diet. Agent Mary Coefield, one of the first agents I ever met, believed it was good to keep a straight diet. I agree. When I was in foster care I ate only unhealthy food, and foster care was the worst time of my life.Of course, I blame that on my foster parents but maybe the unhealthy diet was an issue too.“Oh, you poor, poor girl.” Hazel puts a ‘comforting’ hand on my shoulder and I eye it as she starts to rub it in condolences. “Well, go on, try it. Twizzlers are heaven-sent.”I hesitantly take a bite of the Twizzler and immediately regret it. “Oh, gross!” I put the remainder of the Twizzler on my bed and run to the trash can to spit the rest out. “That’s disgusting.”Hazel tilts her head at me. “Okay, well maybe you’re just a weirdo.” Hazel grabs the Twizzler I bit and bites into it herself. “So you don’t like any candy? Or just Twizzlers?”“I’m never eating candy again.” I grumble as I wipe my mouth of the disgusting licorice.“Don’t speak too soon, Gabby. Can I call you Gabby?” Hazel finished the Twizzler.“No.”“Okay, Gabrielle it is.” Hazel shrugs. “I’m gonna help you find your candy.”“My candy.” I repeat as I stare at her, grabbing a water bottle from my duffle bag.“Yeah. A candy that you love. Your candy. I will treat this as one of my upmost important projects.” Hazel promises.“You don’t have to. Really.” I assure her. Hazel walks over to her bed and smiles brightly.“Really, don’t sweat it. It’s like my life’s calling. You need help unpacking?”That’s a pretty lame life’s calling. I shake my head. “No thanks. I’m good.”I open the burgundy luggage and start to empty my clothes into drawers. “These mine?” I decide to ask post-clothes dump.Hazel doesn’t seem to mind, the girl just nods. “Oh, here, I have some extra hangers.” She places them beside my luggage. “So, you coming to the orientation?”“Is it important?”“Eh,” Hazel scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “I mean if you like the boring stuff like school rules and stuff. What’s really important is what comes after.”“And what comes after?” I can’t hide my curiosity. Though, if she doesn’t say a multi-stage training simulation, I will be extremely disappointed.“Well, usually they’re these big parties.” Cue the disappointment. “The Langleys host them every year. Freshman and up only. I went to the one last year, it was really fun.” Hazel beams.“Who are the Langleys?” I’ve moved on to folding my pajamas. Though I had done research on the school like O’Ryan suggested, I didn’t look into who went here. I had limited time and I preferred to check out the general history of East Lake Academy.“The Langleys have gone to this school for, like, years. There’s two in our grade, Lane and Lana Langley, they’re twins. And then there’s Alicia Langley, she’s a senior. There’s another Langley kid in fifth grade I don’t know her name, and then Jules is in ninth grade. There was also Ann, she graduated two years ago. And another one. Or, maybe that was a cousin? So six confirmed kids. There might be more.” I give Hazel a look of annoyed disbelief. Six kids is insane. I would’ve given up after I had twins. “Mrs Langley is really fertile.”“Yeah, no kidding.”“The Langleys are really rich too. They donate millions of dollars to ELA every year. They own some research business working on ‘making the world great’ or whatever. Langley Labs. Anyway, they throw the best parties.” Hazel grabs another disgusting Twizzler.I start to put my shoes away. I don’t have many shoe options. Black and white Air forces, black Converse, and Gray Jordan 1’s. That’s about it.Langley Labs. I’ve heard of them. They were pretty big in New York. They dabble in practically everything. Weaponry, medical advancements, technology. They’re like a lesser-known Stark Industries or Wayne Enterprises. Stark and Wayne are Apple while Langley is Nokia.Still, Langley Labs has been useful to Shield. Wayne doesn’t supply weapons to Shield and Stark quit the whole weapon manufacturing thing he had going. So, for a while Shield has been taking weapons from Langley Labs.I knew of Maya Langley. She was the heiress to Langley Labs after her older brother Martin Langley died. Or, I guess she is Langley Labs now. Weird how that works. The point is, I knew about her. I just didn’t know she had kids around my age. She must be in her forties now, and she has to have double the fortune. Last I checked she was engaged to some rich nepo baby. And they were madly in love, doing press tours talking about having kids someday.If I had that type of money I’d definitely have more than a couple pairs of shoes.“So are you going?” Hazel interrupts my thoughts and dreams of being rich. I’d like to, for once, spend money that was mine and not be on a limit from Shield. Not that I bought much stuff anyway. I just had the essentials. Though O’Ryan and Gordon could at times be coerced into letting me go out, Agent Coefield was very serious about my training.“Hm?” I give Hazel a confused glance.“To the Langley party, it’ll be great. I’m friends with Lane, he told me Alicia did pretty decent this year.”Pretty decent did not sound very appealing. “Does everyone go to these things?”“Yeah basically.” She shrugs. “It’s always packed. It’s kind of the only way to kick off the year.”I cave at that. I need to try to live a normal life, to blend in. That way I can do what I really came here for completely undetected. The kids at East Lake Academy are supposed to be smart, at least 40% of them want to go into Law or Investigative work. I have to tread lightly otherwise I may attract unwanted attention. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”Hazel grins broadly. “Great! I’ll help you pick out your outfit. Oh, do you want your makeup done? Do you have makeup? You don’t, do you? It’s fine. I might have your shade. Actually, I probably don’t. Okay, no makeup today, but you and I are going out and buying some later.” Hazel rambles.God, what did I get myself into?      
Damian Wayne

third person omnipotent

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2019. FARES, NEW JERSEY. EAST LAKE ACADEMY. 11:18 AM

DAMIAN STOOD IN FRONT of his dorm room at Montgomery Hall with his key in hand. His key had a gorilla engraved on one side and the number 212 on the other.The moment he unlocked his door he was met with a crowded room and music. Half of Damian’s dorm room was covered in boxes that weren’t his. There was a guitar on the wall and multiple posters hung up on the wall, the wall he imagined to be blank—perhaps with a few scratches or a hole or two. Lying upside down on the bed is a dirty-blonde haired boy with brown eyes. He’s playing an air guitar and lining it up to his song. Once he finishes his guitar solo, he notices Damian.“Hey! You must be the roommate. I’m Lane Langley,” The boy—Lane—slid off his bed and walked over to Damian, extending a hand. “You are?”Damian looked at the boys hand and walked past it, opting to drag his luggage’s in as an excuse. “Damian Wayne.” He introduces himself. “Would you turn off that retched music for a moment?”“I know you did not just call Bohemian Rhapsody ‘retched music’.” Lane says giving Damian an odd stare.“If that is what’s playing then, yes, I did.” Lane glares at Damian but turns off the music. “I was under the impression I was to be rooming alone.”“Ah, they didn’t tell you.” Lane nods in understanding. “That’s why you’re so pissy about me being here. There’s been a room shortage. Decide to take the last two kids who paid and room ‘em together. So, here we are. And don’t even think about calling ELA to get your money back. They ‘don’t do’ refunds.” Lane mimic's a high pitched voice at the end.“A refund is the least of my concern.” Damian mutters. Never has he ever asked for a refund. He’s never needed it.“So the Wayne must be as in Wayne Enterprises, huh?” Lane comments. “Old man Wayne put you in this school to ‘learn discipline’ too?”“Something of the sort.” Damian nods. “I assume you’re from…Langley Labs, is it?” Damian’s father did business with them on occasion. They weren’t corrupt or anything, nothing like whatever was going on with Lex Corp or Oscorp these days.“Yup. My parents send all their kids here. Thinks it’ll teach us to stay in check. They don’t know that the Langley kids are known for one thing and one thing only, and unfortunately it’s not academics.”“And that one thing is?” Damian questions, taking the obvious bait out of pure curiosity.“Parties, obviously.” Lane tells him. Damian gives him an uninterested look. “I can tell you’re new by the fact you’re not the least bit impressed. My older sister Alicia threw it this year, it’ll be great.”“And I’m assuming you’re expecting me to go?”“Yeah. Come on, it’ll be fun.” Lane begs. Now that Damian is getting a good look at the boy, he looks familiar. He’s pretty sure the two have met at a gala before.“I will think about it.” Damian decides. “Now move your boxes to your side. I want to have my room prepared before orientation begins.”Lane rolls his eyes but nods, moving the two boxes on Damian’s side to his own side. Lane resumes his music. Damian decides not to comment on it, rifling through his box until he finds a pair of noise canceling headphones and plays ‘Heart of Courage’ by Two Steps from Hell.      
Gabrielle Gomez

first person

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2019. FARES, NEW JERSEY. EAST LAKE ACADEMY. 5:47 PM

QUICKLY I LEARN THAT orientation is incredibly boring. The headmaster, an old white man with crows feet and smile lines, drones on and on for an entire hour about what the students are allowed to do and what they’re not. At first I tried to pay attention as an attempt to blend in with the student body but by the time Mr McNeal (the headmaster) got to the third rule, I contemplated using the metal wiring in my bra to stab myself. Or choke myself. Which ever would knock me out quicker.Luckily once I decided to not pay attention to the annoying lecture I spared enough time to view the faces of the students, half of which had drifted off into blissful sleep. I was on my way to the land of dreams when I heard Mr McNeals voice announcing something I thought he never would, “And that concludes this years orientation! Welcome to East Lake Academy,” He says a few more stuff but it’s drowned out by the sounds of students chatting and escaping from what I dub as ‘hell’.I stayed close to Hazel. While I think the girls a bit annoying I also think that she knows East Lake better than I do (I haven’t had the time to analyze the building layout). I can put up with a bit of peppiness and emo-clothing if she can show me the ropes. Hazel grabs on to my sleeve and leads me to a direction that isn’t the way we came. “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice harsh.“You said you’d go to the party.” Hazel spares me a glance and notes my annoyed face. “You already said yes, no take-backsies.”“Take-backsies.” I repeat. I know my childhood was incredibly dull and consisted of training on ways to kill and hand-to-hand combat and things of the sort, but I’m extremely sure that ‘take-backsies’ is not a word.“Yeah. Take-backsies.” Hazel confirms, seemingly firm in her decision that take-backsies is a word. I decide to let it go. It’s probably some slang word I’m unaware of. Slang words don’t really get used in SHIELD. Ironically, neither do acronyms. I’ll have to learn all these things myself. Or I guess Hazel can help me. I should probably come up with a sob story on why my childhood is so incredibly dull. “We’re not going there right now anyway. I have to change first.”“Okay. So why are you grabbing onto my sleeve? And also what way are we going?” Hazel stops walking and I bump into her. Her hand releases from my shirt earning a mumbled “Thanks.” From me.“That’s…my bad. Yeah. Okay, come on. This way is a super-secret shortcut.” With a roll of my eyes I follow Hazel closely through this ‘super-secret’ route. It takes us less time than it had to get there and there were less people on the way to Whittemore Hall. When we enter the building the AC against me is very much welcomed. As we walk to the elevator we pass students, some older than us and some younger. Every single one that passes us Hazel seems to know. She waves enthusiastically and asks them how their summer ones, responds with ‘Same old, same old’ when they ask her the same question. I didn’t know any person was capable of knowing this many people.Hazel wasn’t a bad choice to have as a roommate, it seemed. Being friends with her is a good cover. She’s friends with everyone so she hopefully won’t get too nosy and I bet I could grow fond of her overtime. Maybe enjoy her chatter and what not. I could see it, Gabrielle and Hazel—normal roommates turned best friends. The thought makes me snort.When we reach our room Hazel pats her pocket for a key. I’m a bit surprised her skirt has pockets but I’m not surprised when she turns to me with a sheepish smile. I push my way in front of her and use my key to open the door. How does someone forget their keys as if it’s not the one thing you literally need to re-enter your dorm on every occasion? Hazel shuts the door behind her and I let her pass me so I can lock it. Jesus, this girl has no self preservation skills. “Wanna help me pick out an outfit?” She asks, face already in her closet.“Must I?” I ask, throwing myself on my bed. It’s not very comfortable. Maybe I should buy a mattress topper. Or get Agent O’Ryan to buy me one, maybe Agent Gordon.“Course you ‘must’.” Hazel says in a mocking tone, earning a glare from me. “Come, feast your eyes upon the beauty that is my closet.”With a dramatic groan I rise from my concrete bed and join Hazel on her side of the room. Unsurprisingly, her closet is full of dark clothes with random bursts of vibrant colors. No pastels are present at all. Lot’s of hot pink though. I look at each piece of clothing like it’s a death sentence. It is. Hazel not-so-gently pushes me into her closet “They’re just clothes, I know they’re a little grunge looking but I swear they don’t bite.” Grunge. Doesn’t that mean grime? Who would willing call their clothes ‘grime-looking’? It must mean something else. I’ll google it later, I guess.I run my hands over Every piece of clothing, taking note of the small hums Hazel would make if I stopped on one for too long. So far it seemed she didn’t like jeans (or at least not for this occasion) and favored dresses. I limit myself to those. Dresses only. I look at all the dresses and settle on a decent looking white dress, the skirt of the dress was slightly flowy like lots of Hazels clothing.When I hand Hazel the dress she smiles at me proudly, like I passed some sort of test. It never occurred to me that this was a test. If I had known I would’ve tried harder, gotten a prouder smile. “I love that dress, it’s one of my favorites.” Hazel pushes past me and into her own closet. She grabs a jacket, then goes through some drawers and grabs two pairs of tights. She tosses all of them onto her bed. “Now go pick something else out. And don’t act like you’re shopping for me.”I raise a brow but she says nothing so I just re-enter her closet and look at all her clothes. She hangs her skirts up. What kind of weirdo hangs their skirts up? Unless that’s a normal thing to do. I’m not exactly sure, I don’t own a skirt. Hazel actually has a lot of skirts. Was that a normal girl thing? Should I invest in more skirts? I don’t mind skirts. They’re cute in general. They’re just not the best for combat, unless you’re looking to flash everyone. In that case, they totally are.I pick one of Hazel’s skirts. The skirt is a jean skirt that is short and goes out. A flowy skirt? A ruffled skirt, maybe? Is that a thing? I don’t know. I grab the skirt and hand it off to Hazel, who’s sporting a smile, and head back to her shirt section. Hazel has a lot of pretty shirts. Don’t get me wrong, some I’d never be seen out in but others are really cute. I grab a gray tank top. It has lace on the top and spaghetti straps. I hand it to hazel who gives me the proudest look ever. She holds both pieces of clothing over me. “Yup, this will do. Get dressed.”“I’m sorry?” Hazel gives me an expectant look and I shake my head. “No. I have clothes, there’s really no need.”“Gabrielle, I saw you unpack. I’m doing you a favor, trust me. Oh, and grab some tights too.” That makes me frown a little bit but I grab the clothes and start to undress, immediately Hazel averts her eyes. “Wow. Okay. No shame.” She rushes out. “Generally, people at least wait for other people to turn around to get bare-ass naked. You know, privacy and what-not.”“I still have a bra on, and underwear. And socks.” I respond, watching Hazel turn around as I slide off my top. She’s being dramatic. If I were fully naked, then sure, some uncomfortableness would be expected but I’m just taking off my shirt and pants. That’s barely anything. I guess that’s not a normal thing though. In Shield it kind of is. I’ve never gotten dressed in front of Fury or anything, I usually just get dressed in the locker room, which is full of girls older than me. They never said anything. I slide on the clothes and put that ones I was wearing off to the side. “I’m dressed, you can turn around now.”Hazel does as told and smiles happily. “Wow. I am amazing. Have I said that today? Cause I totally am.” Hazel grabs onto my shoulder and leads me to the full length mirror she has on the back of our dorm room door. “Seriously, I should consider a career in fashion.”I really hope she doesn’t. Looking in the mirror, I don’t look too bad. The skirt covers what it needs to, the top does too. The tights are sheer and not totally uncomfortable. I move to my closet and grab a black hooded jacket. “There.”Hazel looks me up and down. “Yeah, no. Lose the jacket.”“What if it’s cold?” I look at myself in the mirror. Does the jacket really ruin the outfit?“It won’t be.” She responds all-knowingly.“Are you the weather god?” I ask her with a raised brow. Hazel just gives me an unimpressed look. “Exactly, so, no. I can keep the jacket.”Hazel glares at Gabrielle but gives in anyway. “Fine, you can keep a jacket.” I smile in victory. “But not that jacket.” Hazel walks over to her own closet and grab a black bomber jacket. “You can wear that one.”I take the jacket and frown. “I like my own jacket, thanks.”“Well, that sucks. Friendship is about compromise. Do you want to be friends?”“Not really.” I answer. Hazel doesn’t let that stop her.“Wear the damn jacket.” With a groan I take off my jacket and put on her bomber jacket. I’m fucked if it rains. It’s Hazels turn to smile victoriously. I wonder if that smile looked as annoying on me as it did on her. I slide my favorite sneakers on, gray Jordan One’s—one of the few things that I spent money on while living in the compound. Hazel turns me so my back is to her while she gets dressed. “See! Compromise. Don’t you love compromise, Elle?”I physically shiver in disgust at the nickname. “Try again.”“Yeah, I felt it as it left my mouth.” Hazel grabs onto my shoulder so I turn around. Hazel looks good in the dress. She’s wearing boots with it and she has a brown jacket in her arms. “If you have a jacket, I will too. Solidarity, you know?”I nod even though I don’t really get how significant bringing a jacket can be in the scheme of things. On the way out, I grab my key and lock the door behind us. Hazel leads the way through the halls which are mostly empty now. “Do you have a job? Like, back wherever you’re from. Where are you from?”“New York. And yeah, I do.” Shield was a job, right? Technically, they pay me, but O’Ryan called it allowance. Gordon called it ‘Trauma Compensation’. I don’t really spend the money. I don’t have a lot of things I enjoy spending it on. Shoes, yeah, but I don’t buy them a lot because they get damaged easily on missions. I have maybe two or three decent sneakers and the rest are mission shoes.“Cool, so you have money?”“Yes?” I answer confusedly. I don’t know how much exactly I have put aside but I’m assuming it’s a lot. Maybe nearing ten thousand. “I’m not giving you money. We just met and I barely consider us friends.” I actually don’t consider Hazel and I friends but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.Hazel turns her head to give me a look, the same look she gave me earlier when I asked if she was a weather god. “Not for me. I was thinking I could take you shopping, if you’re free.”“I’m not.”“You don’t even know when.” Hazel points out. “This weekend. We’ll restock your closet, it’ll be fun.” Hazel switches to walking backwards and half of me wants her to bump into something, or fall down a flight of stairs. Whichever makes her stop talking faster. “Please?”With a huff, I nod in agreement. I probably would spend this weekend on the phone with Fury—or more realistically Hill, O’Ryan, and Gordon—attempting to get a mission out of sheer boredom. “Fine whatever.” We enter the elevator and I listen as Hazel says what stores we’re going to go to. She drones on about it until we’ve left Whittemore Hall completely and head in a direction I know. “I thought we were going to a party, why are we entering Montgomery Hall?”Hazel opens the door for me and does a little bow as I go through it. “Quick pit stop. Just gotta ask a friend where exactly this party is.”I stop walking, grabbing Hazel’s arm as she tries to walk past me. “You weren’t invited?”“No! I was, everyone’s invited! Open invitation.” Hazel rushes out. “I just don’t know all the details. I tend to zone out when people speak for long periods of time. But don’t worry, this guy knows exactly where the party is.” She assures me. “And he’s a sweetheart, you’ll love him.”I nod as if the cures all my questions. I follow Hazel to Montgomery Hall as she mumbles numbers under her breath. All the halls have keypads and ID scanners, luckily we’ve yet to get our ID’s so all Hazel has to do is put in the code. She pulls out her phone and squints at it, then types in six numbers.We take the elevator to the second floor and Hazel takes us down two wrong turns before we end up in front of room 212. “You’re sure this is it?” I ask Hazel, because I barely know her but I’m getting the impression that she isn’t good with directions.“I’m sure.” She says, looking at her phone to double check. Her hands move to knock on the door and there’s a total of two seconds of waiting until a blonde boy opens the door. “Lane!” Hazel smiles brightly.Lane has dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes. His shirt isn’t on and I can hear music coming from inside his dorm. “Hazel, hey.” He smiles brightly, when he smiles I can see his teeth are perfect. “Who’s this?”“This is Gabrielle. She’s my new dorm mate.” Hazel gestures to me. For some reason she doesn’t tell Lane how to properly get dressed when they’re are guests, she doesn’t even get flustered at seeing him shirtless.“Nice to meet you Gabrielle,” He smiles charmingly. He reminds me of a mini O’Ryan. Maybe this guy has scarily good aim too. “I’m Lane.”I smile what I hope is a polite smile. It seems to do the trick because he lets us in his dorm room. Half the room has scattered posters around. I can hear ABBA playing on a record player, Agent Gordon would be glad to know I could recognize them by just the start of their songs. “Is Maggie not here this year?”“Huh?” Hazel looks over at Lane. “Oh, no she’s here. She saved up all that money to dorm alone last year remember?” I drag my eyes to the other half of the room. It’s more darker-toned. There’s a boy relaxing on the bed, though in my opinion he looks slightly stiff. He has a book open in his lap and noise cancelling headphones over his ears. “Is that Damian Wayne?”That name rings a bell. Well, the last name does. I have no clue about the first name. Bruce Wayne is some high-tech billionaire, New Jerseys version of Tony Stark. The last names common though so I doubt there’s any correlation. Plus, I’m pretty sure Wayne’s sons don’t have the same last name as him.Lane looks over at his roommate. “Yeah. He’s my new dorm mate. Couldn’t dorm alone this year, room shortages or something.” Lane goes to his closet and looks over shirts. “Damian,” he raises his voice slightly but the boy doesn’t respond or make any of them believe he heard Lanes voice.“The headphones are noise cancelling.” I say. “I have the same ones. They’re Wayne-Tech.” It had been a birthday gift of some sort from Agent Gordon earlier this year. It was a weird gift from her, typically she gave me the Stark-Tech stuff. Anyway, Damian’s headphones seemed slightly different. Probably a newer version.Hazel nods, staring at him for a moment longer, then looking over at Lane. “Didn’t know he went here.”“I’m guessing it’s his first year.”“It’s Gabrielle’s first year too.” Hazel smiles then raises a brow at Lane. “What are the chances we get stuck with newbies?”“I’d say about two hundred to one. I like my newbie.”“Yeah? Is he nice? I’ve always heard he was an ass, but you know, the tabloids are shit with those kind of things.” Tabloids. Okay, perhaps there is some correlation to Bruce Wayne.“Oh, no. They’re right. He’s a dick.” Lane smirks like it’s all in good fun. “A good dick though.” He scrunches his nose at how that sounds but continues on. I look over at Damian, really looking at him.He has dark waves and tanned skin. He’s generally attractive, his features go well together. Though, his best feature may be his vibrant green eyes. He doesn’t look up from the book but I can tell that he knows someone’s watching him. His eyes give it away. They narrow slightly, and sure someone could write it off as ‘he’s struggling with a word on the page’ but I’m pretty sure Damian’s never struggled with reading a day in his life.Hazel and Lane start conversing on random topics as Lane searches for his keys that he somehow lost. I was beginning to realize why him and Hazel are friends. “Damian! Have you seen my keys?” Lane asks as he’s looking through his closet.Damian still has his headphones on as he flips a page, I roll my eyes. There’s no way he can’t hear Lane. Wayne Tech headphones were noise cancelling, but they also had audio leaking headphones and I couldn’t hear any audio. I reach over to take off his headphones and his hand stops me before I can touch them.I falter slightly at that but within a moment I’m basking in victory that I like to call ‘I was right’. I knew he could at the very least sense me. But I also know that doing that—sensing somebody while wearing noise canceling headphones—isn’t something you just randomly pick up. Who exactly is Damian Wayne? “Have you seen Lanes keys?”He looks annoyed that that’s what I asked him about. “They’re by the door, where I told you to put them.”Immediately, Hazel goes over to look for it. “Are you coming to the party?” I ask as Lane joins Hazel in the search by the door.He scoffs. “No.” As if the idea of a party is the most uninteresting thing in the world.I turn to Hazel. “I thought you said everyone could come?”“Everyone can.” Hazel confirms. “It’s open invite.”“You’re not coming?”“We already established this.” Damian tells Lane with an eye roll.“Uh, no. We didn’t. You said you would think about it.”“Well, it was thought about. My answers no, I will not attend.” Damian says as if it’s final. Lane, however, doesn’t seem to take that as answer.“Oh, come on. I promise this is nothing like those snotty galas you have to attend. It’s way less sophisticated.”“I do not know how you think ‘less sophisticated’ makes attending it more desirable.”I snort and cover it up when Lane starts again. “It’s your first year here! It’ll be good to get to know a bunch of people, that’s why Gabrielle’s going. Right?”It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about me. I guess, in a way, that is what I’m going for. “Yeah. Gotta get out there or whatever.” I shrug and look over at Damian. “Good way to start the year.”Damian stares at me for a moment, contemplating. His eyes are so…something. I can’t really describe it but he manages to hold my gaze for a lot longer than most. In fact, neither of us look away from one another. It’s Lane who interrupts our weird staring contest, after he grabs ahold of his keys and walks between Damian and I. “Seriously, Damian, you should come. Show your dad you’re really learning some discipline, eh?”The way Lane says it makes me think he’s being sarcastic. Still, Damian sighs in an annoyed manor as he agrees. He’s wearing a long sleeve shirt and some dark slacks. When he stands I realize, Jesus Christ he is tall. About five or so inches taller than I am. He’s the reason I wear shoes that make me taller, though now I can’t help but feel it’s not enough. Damian walks to his closet and grabs a black hoodie.Lane leads the way out with a victorious smile. Damian takes it upon himself to lock the door behind him, mumbling something about Lanes’ uselessness. Lane attempts to make small talk but Damian shuts it down almost immediately. Not easily deterred, Lane sets his focus on me. “So, Gabrielle, what brings you to East Lake?”“My mom’s an asshole.” I say. It’s close enough to the truth. My mom is an asshole and if you really think about it, she’s the reason I’m here. I figure telling them I’m here because ‘my therapist says I need to try to be normal’ is a bit counter productive.“No shot,” Lane smiled brightly letting out a laugh. “Mine too. What is it with parents and their laziness in parenting?”Hazel snorts in agreement. “For real! I mean, it’s like they either drop dead or send you off. Either way, they’re always taking the easy way out.” Lane lets out a shocked laugh and I follow along, Damian has no outer reaction to her comment on a dead parent (her mom, I’m assuming). “What? Too niche?”“A bit. Yeah.” Lane coughs from his short lived laughing fit. After I’d say about ten minutes, we're past the main part of the school and in the woods behind it. It’s sketchy, there seems to be no one out there for miles. I’m half way into my four get away plan (Plan D: Lane brought me out here to kill me and Hazel and Damian are part of the plan, not to be confused with Plan C: Lane brought me out here to kill me and Hazel and Damian are not part of the plan) when I see fire.It feels a bit wrong for a fire to be so near a school that had an entire floor just burn down recently but I shrug it off when I see Hazel and Lanes matching smiles. I look over at Damian, he seems pretty unamused by everything. I look away quickly to avoid eye contact. I’m not weirded out by eye contact or anything, I hold eye contact all the time. Just not with people who reciprocate it for more than a minute.Plus, the last thing I need is to walk into a tree because I was looking at some green eyed freak.“Oh! I see Maggie!” Hazel points at an asian girl with her hair in a single ponytail drinking from a classic red solo cup. My eyes dart around the entire area. It’s really crowded. There’s a large bonfire with a bunch of crowded logs, and people sitting around it in the sand or on their friends laps. There are some people in the lake, other by one of the long tables filled with drinks and foods. “Come on, Damian, Gabrielle, I’ll introduce you.”Hazel grabs my wrist tightly and drags me over to Maggie. Damian and Lanes trail behind us. If I wasn’t so highly trained in reading facial expressions, I’d think I imagined the way Lanes smile got just a bit wider. “Maggie! Hey, hi. What ya drinking?”“Water.” Maggie responds plainly, making eye contact with all of us. She completely disregards Damian and looks me up and down several times—sizing me up. Instinctively, I stand straighter.Maggie is pretty. She has sharp brown eyes and bits of acne scattered across her face. She has a mean look to her. Her skin is tanned and she’s wearing about ten different bracelets on her left arm. Right arm. Her right, my left. God that’s confusing. “How old are you?”“Fifteen.” I respond. It’s almost like I’m talking to Fury…If I talked like I respected him. More like if I was talking to Agent Hill. That’s a woman I have (some) respect for.“Hm.” She squints at me. “You have the build for it.” She says more to herself than to me. “You fast?”I sense it before it happens, it takes everything in me not to tense when Lanes hand grabs my shoulder in what’s supposed to be a ‘sympathetic’ manner. “Excuse Maggie, her only focus ever is the school baseball team.”“We’re going to win the trophy this year.” Maggie informs me like I should care. Since Maggie’s on the team, I’m assuming he means softball.“Oh, that’s great.” I tell her. “I’ve never played it before. Our team any good?” Saying ‘our’ is weird. Our team. Because I go to a school that has a school softball team. Because that’s a thing that I do. Life is weird.Before Maggie can answer, Hazel interrupts her. “It was incredible two years ago. Their best players graduated. Maggie’s been looking forward to building the team. She’s captain.”“They make Sophomores captains?” I raise an impressed brow.“I’m a junior.” Maggie says, still sizing me up. It’s starting to make me uneasy, I might just throw a punch to see what she does with it. “And technically I’m co-captain.”“Maggie’s focused on building the team this year. Anyway, Maggie this is Gabrielle and that’s Damian.” Land introduced us once it’s clear Maggie won’t ask for our names.“Try out for the team.” Maggie tells me, then she turns to Damian. “You too.”Damian rolls his eyes at her sense of humor. “I’m more interested in soccer.” He comments and Maggie shrugs nonchalantly.Lane makes his way behind Hazel to start pouring a mix of a bunch of drinks into his cup. “You guys want anything?” He asks Damian, Maggie, and I. Maggie shakes her water filled cup in response, while I shrug.“Whatever you’re having.” I say. I’m not against drinking under age, I’ve never really seen the appeal but I’m sure drinking for one single night won’t hurt me.That’s a sentence probably said by every addict ever.Hazel takes the first drink out of Lanes hands, taking a sip and making a face of disgust. “Gross, you do not want whatever he’s drinking,” She pushes the drink back to Lane who rolls his eyes. “Trust me.”I watch Land grab random bottles and pour me a cup, I’m pretty sure he has no clue what he’s doing but I take it anyway. Lane hands the same drink in a different cup to Damian he looks at it in disgust. “I am not drinking that.”“What? Why not! I’m an excellent bartender.” Lane complains.“The excellent-est.” Hazel agrees with a serious nod.I smell the drink and I want to barf immediately. “Smells like shit. What’s in here exactly?”“Oh, you know,” Lane shrugs gesturing behind him. “A little bit of that, little bit of this.”“You aren’t even aware of what you put in here?” Damian looks down at his own cup with unrivaled disdain. “That’s hazardous.”“Well,” The drink in my cup is a nasty brown color. It has a fruity smell that hurts my nose. Can something smell toofruity? Is that a thing? “Bottoms up.” I bring the cup to my mouth and take a long sip.Distantly, I think, This is how you get poisoned.The drink starts off sweet and fruity but there’s some sourness hidden underneath it all. When I pull it away from my mouth I swallow hard and let out a noise of revulsion. I didn’t think it can get worse but there’s a nasty, bitter aftertaste. My tongue is begging me to chop it off. “That’s terrible. A true crime against humanity.”Immediately, the trio burst out laughing—some (Hazel) louder than others (Maggie)—and look at Damian expectantly. Damian glares at me, as if it’s my fault the drink is in his hand, and takes a slow sip. His reaction is less dramatic than mine, much more boring to watch. Lane cheers all the same, patting Damian on his back. I watch Damian’s glare jump from me to the blonde.Distaste for personal touch. Huh.“See? Damian thinks it’s good!” Lane defends his bartending abilities.“I never said that,” Damian rolls his eyes at Lane, shoving the boys hand off his shoulder and smirking when he frowns slightly. “It was atrocious.”Hazel laughs loudly and Maggie snorts into her hand. “Sorry, Lane. Face it, your bartending days are in the past.” Maggie shrugs.Hazel places a hand over her heart dramatically. “Oh, but that was his dream Maggie! His dream.”Lane glares at the girls and grabs Damian’s drink from him, taking a sip. “You know what that tastes like?” He takes another sip, earning a laugh from me when I see Damian’s disappointed and disgusted look. “Deliciousness. It tastes delicious.”In response, Hazel grabs my cup. She takes a sip as well. “You know what that tastes like? Vomit. It tastes like vomit.” These people have absolutely no concerns for mono. I make a mental note to never share a drink with them.Hazel offers me my cup back and I shake my head as politely as possible. “You keep it.”Hazel shrugs with a small smile and takes another sip. “Oh, so, it’s vomit but you’re gonna keep drinking it?”“Well, maybe I like the taste of vomit!” Hazel defends. I push past them and to the table with drinks. None of the bottles are new, all of them opened, some even empty. I can feel Damian rather than hear him, his footsteps are actually surprisingly quiet.I grab a cup for myself and then blindly hand one behind me. I can smell his cologne. It’s..expensive smelling. Is that a thing? Whatever, it is now. I grab a bottle of what looks like water. “This look like water to you?” I ask, sparing Damian a glance.He grabs the large bottle from my hands, analyzing it then nods. He pours me some then himself. I find myself studying all the people around me. Hazel and Lane are downing their cups of alcohol, there are groups of people dancing to music, some people by the bonfire playing a game that required one of them to take off their shirt. “You ever been to one of these before?” I ask Damian.“No. It is out of character for me to attend such juvenile events,” He admits formally. God, he’s so posh. “I attend galas, and even those I do not particularly enjoy. You?”“Nope. First party.” I shrug. Shield never required me to go to any parties, not for fun or as an undercover mission, so I never felt the need. “I’m not gonna lie, it doesn’t seem too enjoyable.”Damian nods in agreement. “Agreed. It reeks of sweat and hormones.”I can’t bring myself to small-talk him, so we sit there in silence for around twenty minutes, staring at our fellow peers as they do stupid shit. We both make a few comments here and there, but for the most part it’s a comfortable silence.Until Hazel runs up to us. She’s clearly drunk, which I was unaware was possible in such a short amount of time. “Come dance—” Hiccup. “With me, Gab-Gabby—Gabri—” Hazel huffs in frustration. “G. I’ll—I’m—” Hiccup. “Gonna call you G. And you can call me H.”“I’m not going to call you H.” I tell her immediately but she ignores me, grabbing my hand. Her hands are sweaty but soft. Her nails are a black color, the nail polish is peeling on all of her fingers.I spare Damian a glance, he’s giving me a raised brow as I allow Hazel to pull me onto the dance floor. My eyes are probably screaming Help Me, but Damian merely shrugs. Traitor. I stand still as Hazel starts to dance, putting us in the center of a big group of people. I don’t know the song that’s playing but everyone around me seems to know it as they all drunkenly chant out the lyrics like some sort of cult. Hazel makes me spin her a couple times and she makes me jump along with everyone else.It’s not fun but it’s not boring. It’s a weird in-between that I surprisingly don’t hate. We dance until the song ends and then I drop Hazel off with a tipsy Lane, who grabs my face and says the most meaningful thank you. I lightly shove him off and make my way back to Damian. My cup full of water is beside him, seemingly untouched. He offers it back to me and I take it, but I’m not stupid enough to take a sip.Just in case.“Have fun dancing?”“Oh, the most fun I’ve had.” I mumble sarcastically. I pour out the water in my cup and fill it with something else. I take the nearest bottle of alcohol and bring it to my nose. I scrunch it a bit at the smell but pour it into my cup anyway. “You like dancing?”“Not that type.” Damian says, drinking from his water. “I don’t loathe waltzing.”“Fancy.” I nod in respect as I smile a bit. “Kind of just wanna leave Hazel and Lane here. I have.. things to do.”Damian nods in agreement. “Tell me about it. I am not entirely sure Langley will be able to find his way back to the dorm and if he does, I doubt he will be able to work his key. The last thing I want is to be awaken in the middle of the night to him knocking.”“Hazel left her key in our dorm, I think, so I guess I have to stay here and walk her home.” I look over at his watch. “I’m gonna give her thirty more minutes then I’m leaving.”“Tt. We should only give them ten. They are acting as if they don’t have classes in the morning.”I take a sip of my drink—I’m pretty sure it’s vodka. “I know! Like, wouldn’t you rather stay up late doing something more enjoyable than dancing with a bunch of sweaty bodies touching you?”Damian makes a face of disgust. “I will never understand the appeal of such trivial things.”“You and me both. I guess it’s normal or something? I don’t know. I’m not exactly an expert on normal.” According to Doctor Logan, at least.Damian snorts and nods in agreement. “Nor am I.”“Well, normal sucks anyway.” I shrug as I watch Hazel from a distance. She’s managed to convince Maggie to dance with her. Lane has his phone pointed at them, presumably recording them. There’s a feeling in my chest as I watch them. I want to say it’s annoyance or hatred or something negative. But in reality, it is longing. I think I want to be a normal kid.God. I need to cut back on the therapy sessions. Doctor Logan is messing me up.I look over at Damian, he looks how I feel. Maybe it’s a rich kid thing? Well, Lane is rich so it can’t be? Though, the Langleys and the Waynes are definitely different levels of rich. Did Damian Wayne long to be just like everybody else?I let that thought lead me into silence as we wait for thirty minutes to pass. Fortunately, we only have to wait twenty five because then Hazel is throwing up her dinner. I grab a new cup and pour water into it as I walk over to Hazel and Lane, Maggie’s somewhere else with a group of girls. Lanes holding Hazels’ hair back as she hurls. “Disgusting.” Damian comments. When Hazel’s vomiting subsides, I put the water in front of her.Hazel takes large sips and I have to force her to slow down. “Come on, Hazel.” I lift her slowly. “Time to go to the dorm.”She begins to protest like a child and Lane laughs at her. “You have no reason to be laughing, Langley, you’re leaving too.” Damian tells the boy who stops laughing and immediately begins pouting.The four of us walk the same way we came only going our separate ways when we reach the fork in the road between Montgomery and Whittemore Hall. Hazel and Lane wave goodbye, repeatedly shouting goodbye until they can no longer hear one another. By the time Hazel and I reach our dorm room, she’s more sober then before. “Thanks for coming to the party with me.” Hazel says as she changes into her pajamas (only after ensuring my back was turned to her). “Did you have fun?”“I don’t think parties are my thing.” I admit as I start to change into some long-sleeved pajamas.“Oh, ‘S okay.” Hazel yawns. “We’ll figure it out.” We. Because Hazel was my friend now.I’ve never had a friend. I’ve had Agent O’Ryan, Agent Coefield, Agent Gordon, and others but all of them are more like co-workers or mentors rather then friends, not to mention they’re decades older than me. “Okay.” I mumble in reply, not quite sure what to say. It seems to do the trick because Hazel gives a noise of content as she begins her descent into sleep.I make sure Hazel’s full asleep before I pull out the present Agent Gordon gave me. My lamp is still on so I’m able to read the note on the top.‘To Gabrielle Gomez, From Neil O’Ryan’ I can’t help but smile. I’ve never had a father, my mother never mentioned him and I learned not to ask, but if I had one I’d want them to be like O’Ryan. He’s a great mentor, he’s always believed in me, even when I was in those shitty foster homes wreaking havoc on anyone who bothered me. I open the box and I’m met with a teddy bear.I furrow my brows as I pull it out. I’ve never had a stuffed animal before, though I’m aware of what they are. I flip it over and attached to it’s foot is a USB drive. Immediately I pull out my Stark-Tech computer and plug it in. While it downloads I toss the box in the trash and leave the bear on my bed, unsure of what to do with it. It was kind of unsettling, but I allowed it to sit beside me for a couple moments.I wait (im)patiently as it downloads. The moment it says “Download Complete” I’m scrolling through every file. I’m not a fan of digital files, I much prefer to have the file in my hand, but at the very least I have a mission. At the beginning theres something written under Mission Notes, I start to read it.
Agent Gomez, you have been assigned to attend East Lake Academy for a number of reasons, all of which will be listed below. Don’t say I never did anything for you. - Agent O’Ryan. P.S. Keep the teddy bear. Makes you look normal.
My eyes make their way to the teddy bear. I place it on my nightstand, facing forward, then continue reading on my mission.God, it felt good to have a mission.    
Damian Wayne

third person

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 2019. FARES, NEW JERSEY. EAST LAKE ACADEMY. 1:47 AM

DAMIAN WAITS FOR HIS roommate to fall asleep before he exits the building. He doesn’t have his Robin suit, so the spare suit he packed will have to do. It’s black and is reminiscent of his roots in the League of Assassins, he packs his retractable sword as he makes his way into Fares. Fares is a much quieter city than Gotham. Damian figures that out when he’s at the top of a building and he can hear absolutely nothing.In a matter of seconds he finds himself missing Gotham already. He’s already bored out of his mind in Fares. Surely, this is what father intended for him, to feel utterly useless. He spent the day at a party with neanderthals and had to walk his drunk roommate back to their shared dorm. A truly humbling experience.He has his laptop with him on the roof, the latest Wayne-Tech one, and he starts to make a file on the student’s he has met so far, because he is nothing if not his fathers son. Hazel Liu, Gotham born. Daughter of Tao Liu and Cassandra Miller-Liu, the latter of which is deceased. She is the younger half-sibling of Reileen Liu, a name Damian’s heard before from Stephanie Brown and Tim Drakes mouths. Though Hazel and Reileen seem to be estranged.Lane Langley, son of Maya and Abraham Langley. Twin to Lana Langley, younger brother to Alicia and Ann Langley, older brother to Steven and Jules Langley. Lane’s parents own Langley Labs and he is (technically) the only heir since he is the only son.Then there is Gabrielle Gomez. There isn’t much on her, relatively nothing actually. For Hazel and Lane, Damian just had to do a quick google search. He was aware Lane Langley was related to Maya Langley—which made things easier. Hazel’s last name sounded familiar, and with a quick hack into East Lake Academy’s school system, he realized why. Cassandra Miller-Liu was an old Justice League contact. Of course, she was taken off the list when she died (which was long before Damian had met his father) but when Damian first arrived in Gotham back in 2014, he did plenty of searching through Justice League archives.Richard had allowed it because he assumed it was Damians’ way of getting closer to his, at the time, deceased father. In a way it was, though young Damian swore it was him getting to know his so called allies.Damian makes his way to the Justice League system and searches up the last name ‘Gomez’. A couple people show up, none with any connection to Gabrielle. With an annoyed huff, Damian decides to resort to what he had done with Hazel. Quickly he hacks into East Lake Academy’s school system. He finds Gabrielle among the G listing in students and clicks on her file, ignoring the fact that this was an invasion of privacy (and probably illegal).Gabrielle didn’t have a middle name. She was fifteen years old, a sophomore, her birthday was May 28th, 2004, so Damian is older than her. She was previously homeschooled and finally, Damian finds something he can use. Her listed guardian is Neil O’Ryan. The relation to her is not specified, which Damian finds unusual. Without much thought, Damian searches O’Ryan up in the Justice League system.Neil O’Ryan is the first to pop up. Shield Agent. Possible future ally? was written with a question mark besides it. There’s more information about him, a lot of it blocked from him. He’d need Timothys level of access to view it meaning it was private information, probably regarding a traumatic past. Shield Agents always had a traumatic past.When Damian searched, Neil O’Ryan on the regular web, nothing of interest showed. Damian decided it was impossibly aggravating but semi-acceptable. Gabrielle was the child of a Shield agent, that’s why information on her was so classified.Still, that conclusion did not satisfy him as it typically would, leading him to believe that it’s incorrect. After an hour of searching, Damian decided to put a pause on it until the next night. Morning was coming fast and as the sun began to rise, Damian went to his dorm room for some rest.As he settled on his bed for the night one thought remained in his mind, who exactly was Gabrielle Gomez?