(Edited with Grammarly on 3/26/2026)
"See?" A chipper voice commented, a hefty hand coming down to smack at the much smaller back with a barely audible thud. Blonde curls bounced around as she danced between the two, shuffling from one foot to another as she tried to somehow both walk beside and in front of them. Frankly, it looked exhausting. Something that really shouldn't be done on such an overstuffed stomach. Or at least Albert felt that way. "Was that so bad? And to think, we only paid forty-five for all that food! I swear I got through about ten plates before they cut me off!"
It was quite the comical sight, seeing the pale-faced owners looking completely aghast as they were nearly run out of business on day one. Harley, sitting proudly before ten medium-sized saucers, leaned back and cleaned gunk out of her pearly white teeth with the complementary toothpicks.
'I don't think you're the reason why we got kicked out.'
He'd admit it, maybe four plates on his own was too much. Just abject gluttony on his part, having already felt full after his second plate, but he just couldn't ignore the freshly seared salmon cut into smaller serving sizes. Combine that with the incredibly gooey and cheesy mac, and that sense of fullness had been erased by desire.
But no matter how much they wanted to brag about their own accomplishments, the 'winner' was quite clear. The pale green woman dressed in simple sweatpants and an oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder, her shock of red hair tied up into a messy bun. And if he looked close enough, he could very easily imagine her wearing a championship belt if that slight swagger to her natural prowl were anything to go by.
Usually, Ivy could often go ignored in public. People just subconsciously ignored her presence despite her distinct appearance. Vibrant green and red weren't easy colors to miss in a city mostly filled with differing shades of gray. Hence why she could go around to run errands and just live a normal life without causing a massive stir, but whatever effect she was under, it didn't help when she was surrounded by thirty empty plates stacked high all around her.
Steak, fish, lamb, chicken, shrimp, crab, it didn't matter. As long as it was some form of meat, the plant hybrid simply inhaled it all as easily as breathing.
That feat alone crowned her the winner of this little outing, something Harley had no choice but to admit to when the owners had quickly ushered them out of the restaurant and probably blacklisting them from all their chains across Gotham. Maybe even beyond that to the entire Eastern Coast.
But honestly, the uncomfortably full feeling in his stomach was already enough punishment as is. He really couldn't understand how the blonde could be hopping around with all that energy when even just walking made him want to lean over somewhere and hurl. And maybe even curl up in a ball for a good nap.
"How're you doin' over there, Al?" Harley leaned farther away from him wearily, even ducking to hide behind her green friend's shoulder to call out as though expecting him to explode at any given moment. "You're looking a bit green...Sorry, sorry, no offense, but you know what I mean!"
"I'm fine." He wished that was true, but from the way his vision swirled, things really weren't looking well. "I-I shouldn't have eaten that crab."
"Yeah, you were a complete madman to eat seafood from a buffet." She nodded rapidly, bodily using the red head as a shield as she continued. "Don't take Red as an example! I've never seen her get sick from...well, anything!"
"That crab was severely under-cooked." Ivy agreed readily. "The shrimp was a couple of days past its expiration date, the fish was heavily seasoned to cover up the off-fishy smell, and the lobster wasn't real. Bite down on this, don't swallow."
Reaching down, she gently plucked a waving green weed sticking out of a heavily cracked and cratered slab of concrete. Holding it up to his face, she had a far too expected look.
'I don't think I could eat that even if I tried.'
Even now, just thinking about shoving that...weed into his mouth was enough to cause his stomach to rumble and throat to begin gagging. Not just from how full he felt but also because of how unclean that little weed had to have been. With the number of puddles littering the streets and sidewalks, there was no real guarantee that all of them were filled only with rainwater.
But...it was a pretty rare event to be given something directly from an often expressionless woman. Besides, if she truly wanted to poison him, just being this close was already well within the danger zone. And so, before his mind could fully stop him, he plucked the weed from her hands and gobbled it down. Crushing it between his teeth, and almost immediately, a peppermint-like taste flooded his mouth. Sending a cooling sensation across his gums, tongue, and throat. Even going so far as to crawl up his nasopharynx, making the light bits of congestion instantly clear up.
A barely perceptible, infinitesimal in fact, curve graced her lips.
"Do you still feel like hurling?" Harley asked cautiously, but still took a few ready steps closer. Looking him over once more before nodding with a wide grin. "See? Now you don't look so green!... But just make sure to warn Ol'Harley here if that changes, I don't wanna ruin my top!"
Her oh-so-prized top was a simple but rough-looking jacket, covered in all manners of holes and stains with a rather healthy layer of long fur poking out from its threadbare weave. A cartoon image of a hyena sat with its comically massive tongue lolling out, eyes far too wide, and a smile that appeared too human.
"I'm fine now, but thanks, Pamela."
"…"
"In The Red Tongue, that's a beaming smile!" The blonde nodded thoughtfully, eyeing the micro-expressions flittering across Ivy's face. Which almost immediately turned as stony as could be. "And now she's annoyed! Quick, change the subject!"
"...Uh, I would like to thank you guys for dragging me out today." He was being genuine here. Throughout that eating fest, he'd been trying to find some way to express his thanks for both of them dragging him out of his funk, and now seemed like the perfect chance he needed. These last couple of weeks had kinda zipped through in a fog, a deranged fog that nearly saw him revert a couple of stages on the path of evolution. And for that, he was thankful. "I know I've been a bit distant lately, and I am sorry for that."
"You might not believe it, but Red here has been a very, very broken up about you possibly abandoning us." The blonde skipped ahead of them, either ignoring or unaware of the deadpanned glare being sent her way. "Thought you got scared off by our big, nasty reputation or made new friends with some other pair of weirdos and decided to drop us like yesterday's newspaper! But you know me, I knew differently! I knew there was no way this guy would just drop us out of nowhere! Anyway, as I said before, friends don't keep count or collect favors. But as much as I would love to get all sappy, we've got a reputation to uphold. Can you imagine how people would react if they saw big, bad Red breaking down in tears? She would instantly lose all her street cred! I think it's...here!"
As though to flee from the plant hybrid, she quickly spotted an innocuous-looking warehouse with the same boarded appearance as most buildings in Gotham. Run down and staying upright through pure spite. Dashing over to the adjoining alley mouth, she kicked off from the rough brick wall to the other. Bouncing back and forth as she expertly scaled the three-story building before pushing off in a tight ball and exploding out suddenly, fingers latching onto a window seal. Pulling herself up with an exaggerated grunt, she put on her heavy-duty combat boots, which were the last things he saw as she squirmed inside.
Before she popped her head out over the ledge, waving with that same bright and maybe even a tad bit smug smile on full display.
"What are you waiting for? Last one up is a rotten egg!"
Cackling like an old witch on a village's outskirts, she zipped back out of sight, leaving the two of them in a strange silence.
"I...can't do that."
Actually, he thought he'd probably get around his first leap only to skid face-first into the layered bricking.
'I think I would actually break my neck. Is it a combination of high DEX and Climbing? Maybe some STR as well?'
"I'm not doing that."
Ivy responded in solidarity; she was more than strong enough to do exactly that, but it would probably suit her style more to have some plant rapidly grow beneath her and use it as a makeshift elevator than actually perform that feat of athleticism.
The two stood in silence after that, both just waiting to see whatever mad scheme their blonde friend had in store, and barely a couple of minutes later, the front door popped open with a screech of un-oiled hinges. Harley stood covered in a light layer of dust clinging to her locks, but otherwise looked completely unharmed or even frazzled.
"Tada!" She bowed theatrically, propping the door wide open. "My grand trick! Don't applaud too soon, folks, I'll be here all night!"
"When are you going to teach me how to do that?"
If Albert had already been receiving Dodging lessons, then why not some parkour as well? Adding another dimension to his movement would surely only further enhance Stealth in ways bordering on the supernatural.
"Anytime! But first, let's get some muscle on your bones. Let's say you'll need around...thirty pounds worth of it, primarily focusing on your upper body strength, and of course, you can't ignore seventeen years of gymnastics experience! Get all that, and I will gladly teach you!"
"You could've just said no."
"I could! But it's more fun this way! But get your bony butts in here! Don't worry, this isn't my murder house! That's down the street!"
Corralling them like sheep, she quickly closed the door behind them. Barely given him enough time to get a quick rundown of the place. It was a wide-open warehouse floor, a set of stairs spiraling up to a very unsafe-looking catwalk. Massive windows lined the ground floor, blocked off with multiple boards that allowed a few beams of light to shine through. Highlighting a few items of note.
First, a simple, roughed-up couch that had a series of bite marks and scratches all along its surface. Not just the kind from normal house pets like cats or dogs, but from something far larger. Two rows of bite marks engulfed one entire edge of the sofa. Secondly, a heavily duct-taped table not too far away was also covered in an innumerable number of gnaw marks along its legs. And, two massive mattresses were pushed or dragged far off in the distance. Each looked just as beat up as the rest of the furniture, with a few exposed springs and cotton flush littering the ground.
But no matter how suspect all these things looked together, like a really, really bad casting couch kind of situation, the two metal and two plastic bowls, larger than his head, quickly filled in the blanks.
'Bud...Lou.'
These names were etched into the sides. Stylized with heart symbols and care. With this new puzzle piece, more details became clearer to see.
Chew toys, both brand and homemade. Thick cords of rope tied into a braiding knot, and even a pair of sparkling pink, studded collars lay on the table along with a simple leash.
Despite the chaos of the room, Albert felt like there was a method to this madness. Every misplaced toy, even one of the bowls being flipped, felt intentional. And just stepping into that place was like him invading something sacrosanct.
"Take a seat!" Hands pushed him forward, gentle but insistent. Leading him over to the roughed-up couch and leaving him to his devices. "Get comfortable, maybe even roll around a bit!"
Unlike him, Ivy showed no hesitation to sink into the sofa, even though she didn't move a single item out of place. Not the threadbare blanket beneath them nor even the chew toy that looked ready to throw in the towel. Taking that as a signal, he too tried not to disturb anything within arm's reach of him.
But Harley noticed, she didn't say anything, and instead jumped between them. Picking up a nearby throw pillow and inhaling deeply.
After what felt like an eternity, the blonde turned to him.
"Now that we're somewhere safe," There was a very visible industrial light hanging by thick wiring, swaying back and forth precariously above them. "Do you want to talk about what happened? If you don't want, you don't have to. Just know, what you say will not leave either of our lips and will not go beyond these four walls. That, I can promise."
As though to prove her point, she handed over a small object. A small plushy dressed like a private eye from the Booming Twenties. With a carefully stitched fedora atop its comically massive head, large brown button for eyes, and loose cloth woven to create the illusion of a dark tan trench coat. Even now, just handing it over as she looked right about ready to snatch it back and try to fix flaws only seen by her own eyes, but she held herself back.
To further prove the seriousness of the situation, the redhead nodded simply. Leaning further back into her spot, she tried to smile, but it was barely more than an uptick at the corner of her mouth.
"…"
He could just brush them off, grin, and just say he was having a bad month, but that would be such a monumental lie that it probably would've been better to just spit in the eye of their kindness. They both knew how he'd been living for those three weeks was anything but healthy, and it probably would've led to his further deterioration eventually, maybe even death if he were being honest.
With this much effort on display, what kind of friend would he be to push all that aside? And taking the plushy imbued with so much care and work, it only further compounded that fact. So, leaning forward on his knees, he began from the beginning. From his scope through the school, infiltrating the same school not once but three seperate times, spoke of him trying to strong-arm the principal into giving up the footage, only to find out he'd long since deleted them in hopes of still acquiring that grant, before exposing the scum for all to see, to wandering the streets at night in some desperate home of just stumbling into the car in question, even going into a little bit of detail about him acquiring aid from someone within in the dark underbelly of Gotham which had earned a few concerned stars but still, neither of them interrupted as he continued.
And once he started, it was impossible to stop. Like a tide crashing against a fragile door, the floodgates came slamming open. Going further into detail about his interrogation of the two kidnappers, how he'd had one of them beaten to a pulp, while the other had probably gotten branded like cattle. To being told exactly how out of his league the Gray Gardens were and finally handing it over to the police to commence that fated raid.
He spoke of his hopes, how his nerves had been on fire that entire day. Waiting on bated breath for Jacqueline to be found there. Only for that hope to die on his lips as Willow brought him copies of their transactions from a full year ago. How crushed he'd been when he needed to make that dread phone call, and how defeated he felt as Russel simply wilted like a dead weed instead of surging up with anger.
Albert even went into detail on his first couple of days before the fog took over, how he'd been following a lead while looking at a few newspaper clippings and put it on a corkboard.
"I don't know if I'm suited for this kind of work." He might've had the occupation, the skills, and the system all built around solving mysteries, but even with all those advantages, he still found himself dead stuck. Still failed to reunite a fractured family. If it had been Batman, John, or Question, they probably would've been able to pop this case wide open on the first night. Maybe even they would've been able to track down where she was and go breaking down the doors to save her, themselves. "I guess this was just the final nail in the coffin. I-I might just quit. Maybe I could become a photographer or a screenwriter."
"…" A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, and he had to fight with all his might not just flinch away from the comforting touch. It felt undeserved. "Don't be so hard on yourself. If you honestly feel that going into another field is what you need to do, then I will stand behind you all the way. I can turn one of my safe houses into a studio, and we can work to get some actors or models in place. I know a guy who's a really big actor...but take it from me, regret is a powerful thing. It's like chains around your ankles, wrists, and neck. Tightening every year as you slowly age in the mirror."
"Failure is not the end." She continued after a heartbeat. "You're going to fail a lot, but that's how we get better. Hell, even Sherlock Holmes failed! Was this your first serious case?"
"No," He shook his head, fiddling with the plushy investigator while feeling his cheeks burn up with shame. Those brown buttons for eyes almost looked disappointed. "I had some hand in the Circuit getting exposed, one of my clients was a fighter there, and I got him out."
"Then it's your first serious case that you feel like you failed in...but look at me." She turned him her way by the shoulders, looking him deep in the eyes. Blue meeting misty brown, which only further curdled the shame bubbling up in his chest. "Would all those parents, all those kids, see what you did as 'failure'? No! You're a good kid, Albert. You got a big heart, and I know it's hurting right now, but no matter what happens, what thoughts are circling through your head right now, just know this: To those people, to those kids you helped, you're a hero to them. Not Supes, Bats, or any of those other capes. Do you understand me?"
"...Yes."
"Good! But this doesn't mean you should go out dressed in spandex fighting crime, just keep doing things the way you are now. No matter what happens, just know that you will always have me behind you."
And with that, the blonde pulled him into a tight hug. Flushing away the shame with her warmth, he realized in that moment that this was probably the first time he'd ever had a friend comfort him like this in either of his lives.
'Was this how friendships are supposed to be? Was this what I was missing out on this entire time?' Forming healthy relationships had never been on his docket in his past life. He'd honestly always thought comforting friends like this was reserved strictly for films or books. For in his mind, what kind of adult needed to be hugged to keep on going? Who honestly needed a little pick-me-up when they were descending? Weren't they supposed to pull themselves up their bootstraps and solve it their damn themselves?
He could feel the wetness in his eyes growing behind that blockade, some semblance of pride acting as the final guardian to just letting them loose. But when a third hand patted his back awkwardly, it made things nearly impossible.
In that moment, surrounded by friends, he added a mental bullet point on his long list of things he wanted to achieve in this world. Putting it right beneath 'Surviving Darkseid' and 'Stop Injustice from ever happening', a new goal slid into place.
'Be more personable.'
Albert knew there was a very real reason why he didn't have any close friends in his past life. He'd never actually put in the effort, never tried getting to know someone. He'd always been content just hiding away in his own personal bubble, never willing to take a single step outside of his comfort zone. And maybe he'd always expected other people to acquiesce to his unspoken demands.
It was no wonder he'd been lonely enough to take his own life. Grinding away at the endless rat race that was life with no real connections was a sure-fire way to have all that stress push him to enact a permanent solution for a temporary problem. What had his RPG group think happened to him? Had he really just left them in limbo when all he needed to do was reach out and try for once?
But here, he had a second chance. Another opportunity to try and develop his empathy, to truly connect with another. The first step would be difficult and awkward, but that was how skills worked. Fail, fail, stumble and fall, get into a few faux pas, make an ass of himself, but truly live and immerse himself in what it means to be a better person and friend. And as a result, becoming a better private eye.
For now, he allowed the darkness at the edge of his vision to overtake him. Days or weeks of poor sleep were catching up with him all at once, dropping him headfirst into the land of dreams.