2019-05-03 - Not Dead Yet

Summary:

A ghost from the past appears to Helena and Selina.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Fri May 3 04:55:17 2019
Location: Greenwich Village

Related Logs

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Theme Song

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jason-toddselina-kylehelena-wayne

It's been a long day for Helena. The regional science fair finals was today, which means she spent most of last night putting the finishing touches on everything and reviewing all of her talking points. Then there was a whole day of the fair itself, discussing her project with everyone and fretting about how it would be received. She didn't win, but given that the winner usually ends up with scholarship offers, that's just fine by her. Better they should go to someone who needs them.

The best part was that people actually talked to her. Like a person. And then Peter Parked invited her to join his family and friends celebratory dinner to talk science.

Once it was over, though, Helena insisted she could get herself home. No need to be a burden on Peter, and there was no way she was getting a ride from Osborne. So she called home and took a seat on a bench outside the restaurant, scrolling through her phone while she waits. In low heels, dark trousers, and a sleeveless white blouse with a string of pearls, she could be any student or intern in the city.

Selina Kyle likes to think she doesn't go NUTS with money; for the most part she's surprisingly respectful of Bruce's resources - first out of caution, granted, but she developed courtesy later. That said, if she weren't eccentric, she wouldn't have dressed up as a cat and robbed Staten Island blind, or spent the last eightteen years punching people square in the face, usually while flirting with them.

What I'm saying is, Selina's luxury car is Royal Purple, and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

She pulls up near Helena, and the convertable hood draws back, revealing Selina wearing a pair of sunglasses, wearing a purple blouse a pair of black leggings under a modest black skirt, and rather fashionable short-heeled boots. She puts one arm over the car door and inclines her head to her only daughter, and smiles brightly, "Hey, pretty girl. You going my way?"

She isn't just any student or intern, then. She's the little sister of a certain individual. Said individual has been stalking her for the last several days…and doing so skillfully at that. He's a ghost when he needs to be. He has had a number of chances to corner or approach Helena, but he has always chickened out before doing so. Sure, he can take on monsters and the worst criminals on the planet…but this is a bit too much for him.

Jason has been sitting four tables over the entire dinner, a baseball cap worn low, and a fake moustache making him look like just any college hipster. From the skinny jeans, boots, worn Talking Heads shirt and flannel, Jason is absolutely unrecognizable. He glanced up now and again from his meal to watch Helena and her friends, timing his approach. Dinner ends and out she walks, and he takes a deep breath. He drops a tip and rises, picking up his left-overs and heading out to the sidewalk where she is waiting for her ride.

He steps out the door and approaches the bench Helena is sitting at. He fishes out a battered pack of cigarettes, and lights up. He takes a drag and adjusts his cap, finally about to say something. "Hey, uh. Helena Wayne?," he calls out to her.

At that exact moment Mom pulls up, and the moustachioed man freezes.

Helena is looking up from her phone as the stranger approaches, already smiling politely, though hearing her name stiffens the expression. That usually comes before either a pitch for some crackpot project or else the paparazzi camera to the face. But that's been her life for long enough that she knows how to deal with it.

"That's me," she answers with a small smile, uncrossing her legs and starting to stand. "But it looks like my Mom is here. If you're with the press-" She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a card-holder and a business card. "This is the number for our representative. They'll be happy to work out an appointment."

Her weight is already shifting to turn toward Selina and the car when something about that stillness pings in the back of her mind. Something familiar. Instead, she stills in turn, brows starting to furrow.

Selina has had her share of experience with the press, and while the years have sorely tempted her to change her policy to a swift kick to the groin upon approach, she played the socialite game before she even met Bruce, and she's experienced enough with the long con to know that a smile gets more mileage than a punt does in these situations.

So she just smiles and says "Thank you for your interest~" Without really looking at the person approaching Helena, maintaining a smile that's meant mostly for her daughter. It quickly turns puzzled when Helena hesitates, and Selina looks at him a bit more closely, brow furrowing over her sunglasses in a nearly identical manner to Helena.

It's been a few years, but she still looks like Selina. Which is to say: Impenetrably confident and infuriatingly beautiful. Bruce has a type. An idea occurs to her and she goes every so slightly, subtly pale.

"Yeah, uh. Thanks. I'll just take the card and leave you alone," the 'stranger' says in a bit of a rush…as if he couldn't get out of this situation fast enough. His bright blue eyes shift from his 'sister' to his 'mother', and he reaches up to tug his baseball cap down a smidge. He then turns to swiftly escape. However, in his distraction he does something he would never do under normal circumstances: he runs directly into a woman leaving the restaurant. She goes sprawling but he reaches out, even while off-balance, and he catches her with incredible grace and swiftness.

"Shit, you okay, miss?" He catches himself and winces, realising he just lost his chance for a swift escape as she brushes herself off. He glances back at Helena and Selina sidelong. "Sorry for bothering you too!"

"Hey, hold on." Helena doesn't know enough to go pale. Even if she did, she probably wouldn't. It implies a certain awareness of mortality that just isn't present in genius-level teenagers with extensive combat training. Lengthening her stride, she takes a few steps around the woman he bumped into, trying to peer under the hat. "You were in the restaurant. Do I know you?"

If Selina's attitude is usually the cat who got the cream; now she's the cat who's seen a raccoon. Her movements become very deliberate and focused as she steps out of the car and stands by the open door, growing visibly more tense as Helena draws near the man.

She doesn't *know* anything. But since the incident she's always kept an eye out. In fairness, she went into this mode roughly once a day for like six months afterwards, suspecting total schlubs. She she's not pouncing yet. But she is gripping the top of the door pretty hard. "… Everything all right, Helena?" She says a bit stiffly, forgetting her usual affectionate way of addressing her daughter in the moment.

Jason doesn't really know what to say to Helena when she moves around him like that and looks under his hat. His features would be similar to the Jason she knew, if a few years older. The moustache is new, surely. Bruce taught him about disguises. You don't need huge things or massive amounts of make-up. Small things here or there draw the attention away from the important things and throw people off. Hair, a moustache. Things like that. But…those eyes. She hasn't seen those eyes since Jason went out one day and never came back…years ago.

"I…I don't know how to answer that, Helena," the man says, his voice slightly hoarse and tinged with frustation. He glances over at Selena and back again.

"Holy shit."

Helena's eyes go wide as she gets a better look under the hat, stepping right up into his personal space to get a closer look. "Holy shit," she repeats herself. He can see the thoughts going through her mind, rapid fire. What she sees. What's rational. What it could mean. What it probably means.

She wants to get closer, but she's got just enough sense to at least try to double-check, brows furrowed suspiciously. "Where'd I hide your underwear?"

Selina's question goes unanswered for the moment - she doesn't know yet.

The purr of the car's engine disguises the sound of Selina swallowing *very* hard, but doesn't disguise the sound of the car door closing, or Selina stepping closer.

"Under the wine cellar stairs in that stupid little cubby hole. You were always tiny so you could fit in there when I couldn't," Jason mutters after a moment of tense silence. "…Still pretty puny," he grunts, trying to be playful but…just kind of looking like a wounded animal who is preparing to flee. There's a tension in his shoulders, though, like a dangerous person who is trying NOT to be dangerous. A loaded gun.

He glances over at Selina and raises his hands into the air, showing they are empty (except for his leftovers). "I don't want to cause any trouble…Selina. No trouble. I…couldn't approach the house with Bruce around all the damn time…"

The moment Jason raises his hands, he's open. And Helena takes advantage of that opening…to barrel into him in a full-body hug, staring at her mother in shock around his arm. "We thought- Dad said-" But she's out of words, so unless someone stops her, she'll settle for a that hug.

Selina's glasses are in her hand now, creaking with the pressure being put on them, as her free hand is balled into a fist. She looks… visibly emotional, lips pressed tightly together, breathing sharply, but at the same time her green eyes are blazing. She just… shakes her head in disbelief and softly says, "I don't know wether to hug you, or slug you. But you- HELENA!" She cries out in alarm as Helena bulldozes Jason, rushing forward and wheeling around Helena to grab her under her shoulders and yanking her away and turning a 180 degrees, setting Helena down, and turning the rest of the way around to face Jason again without stopping, putting herself between her daughter and her wayward son. Selina's keys are now subtly being held between her knuckles, poking out like miniature Wolverine claws as she struggles to keep a straight face while looking at Jason. "Speak *very* carefully, and keep your hands where I can see them." she orders, her voice trembling terribly. She doesn't… she doesn't want to run him off… but after last time she also doesn't want him within ten miles of her daughter.

Jason begins to hug Helena, though it is an awkward hug, certainly. Like he doesn't know how to, anymore. When Selina charges in he steps back, his raised hands dropping to tense, clenched fists. He drops his left-overs, the container remaining intact. He narrows his eyes and glances from his mother to his sister and he growls softly under his breath. His bright eyes dip briefly to that held key, and raises to hold her own eyes.

"I think this might have been a mistake," he grunts. "You were smart not to tell her," he says, much softer. He takes a few steps back, glancing over at a classic '68 Mustang parked a bit down the curb.

"Mom!" Helena knows better than to fight her mother, especially in the middle of the street. The fact that Selina would show even that much in public already tells her that she at least thinks this is serious. "Mom, it's- Mom, it's Jason." Obviously she must just not realize it, right? This is a totally proportionate reaction to Helena hugging a male her parents don't recognize.

"Our Jason, Mom. Jason, it's okay," she tries to say past her mother, holding up her hands in a stalling motion. "She just doesn't- Wait!"

Selina holds her arm out sharply as if to emphasise that Helena should stay behind her. You couldn't recognize Selina Kyle here if you'd known how she usually conducts herself; this isn't even really Catwoman; it's a very rattled but dangerous mother trying to protect her daughter from a dangerous man. From her son.

She draws in a sharp hiss of breath as Jason speaks, a thousand conflicting feelings spiking through her heart. "Wait, don't-" She glances back at Helena, "Don't just go-" God, why is this happening here? She doesn't want him to leave but she also doesn't want him within ten miles of Helena. "God- damn it- where did you go?!" She says that a lot louder than she intends to.

He flinches as if struck, and his hand briefly tightens into a fist. He takes a deep breath and calms himself, though, his hand loosening. He drops to a knee and picks up his left-overs, rising to his feet as he takes another step back. He won't look Selena or Helena in the eye.

"I couldn't deal with all that. Years of it. The poking. The prodding. The lectures and therapy. I needed to find myself and I did." He plucks the baseball cap off and brushes his fingers back through his hair. His hair is as black as it ever was…save a white streak that Selina would recognize him having when he returned, but Helena would not.

"I went to Europe. France mostly. Got a job making wine at this chateau," he admits. "It helped me kind of put my head together. Something happened, though. Something bad. Shook me out of me retirement. I knew I needed to come home. I've been back in town for about a month now. Just…couldn't find the right time to approach. Fuck, -this- wasn't the right time, either…"

"Mom." Helena is fixed on watching Jason, but she's still not quite ready to push past her mother. Just in case she has a reason for this. "It's Jason." She's still a little bit stuck on that, carefully reaching a hand for Selina's back. "Please don't go. I don't- I don't know what's going on, but if you're alive, if you're okay…I'm sure we can figure it out."

Selina literally doesn't know what to do. Even if seeing Jason alive and maybe even coherent again wasn't enough to send her reeling, there's a staggering number of implications that make her feel like the world is spinning, not just in regards to Jason, but to her family; what they know, what they need to know, what Helena WILL know they kept hidden. Her voice is very soft when she answers Helena, "… I know, Kitten." And a little deeper when she says "Stay back."

"Well what do any of us know about timing, right?" Selina says very tensely, as if her defense mechanism is to treat this like a game, but her emotions won't let her, or won't play along. She abandons it almost as quickly as she's said it. She can barely process what he's saying right now. "… There is not a damn thing I can say to you right now."

"I am not okay," Jason replies, his voice low. He takes another step back and shifts his attention from Selina to Helena and back again. "I…know the feeling. I thought I was ready for this but I'm not. Nobody is. I'm gonna go." The left-overs drop from his hand again, still remaining intact in the box.

The man turns on his heel and heads for his Mustang. He doesn't spring, but there is a hastiness to his walk, certainly. "Forget this happened, sis. It's for your own good. I shouldn't have bothered any of you." He pulls out his keys and undoes the driver's seat, sliding in and trying to start the car.

"I'm ready!" Helena stares between her mother and her brother, fairly vibrating with the self-control it's taking her not to chase after him. "Mom, you can't just let him go! It's Jason! He's alive!" And here she is without any trackers. Isn't that just how it goes?

There's going to be some serious 'splaining to do in the Wayne household.

Selina turns sharply to Helena, "I can, and you damn well will!" She snaps, but her voice, isn't even angry, just strained. Selina just looks… really hurt, and confused, her eyes wide and watery in a way Helena's not often had a chance to see since, well, since Jason died. She looks somewhere between 'panic' and 'about to cry'. She instantly looks like she regrets snapping at Helena, and turns away from her quickly to watch Jason. "… He won't stay gone." She says shakily, as a prediction rather than a complaint.

Left-overs abandoned, Jason Todd starts the gar with a loud rumble. He slams the car door and risks another brief glance over at the two. He internally curses at himself. He's going to need to go out and seriously maim some criminals tonight to feel better about himself after this. There is a brief moment of hesitation as the car crowls and rumbles at the curb, before he finally kicks it into gear and peels away from the sidewalk. He roars off into the night, still just a lost bird.

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