Kinda rough points for the platonic ideal of a Gerard. Just ideas at this point lol
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Jason shot and wounded stumbles into a maze of alleys, hears someone singing and playing the guitar. That’s fucking weird ™ Because people don’t sing in crime alley.
He follows the music to an abandoned building, climbs in, and stumbles across a girl who seems very unimpressed with the whole situation. Her hair is, of course, black and curly, her skin is pale, and her eyes are a very dark blue magnified by her thick glasses. Her ratty oversized sweater makes her look even smaller than she is.
Jason adds another point to the “am I actually cursed to deal with Wayne nonsense for the rest of my unlife ??” collum, because this kid is adoption bait, down to the deadpan look on her face.
Jason can’t get this Obviously Homeless Child to leave , because ‘I was here first’ is a pretty good justification in crime alley. Then it’s too late and the people who shot Jason show up outside, and they’re both trapped.
“Fucking really,” the kid says flatly.
Jason kinda likes the twerp despite himself. What a tiny asshole.
“I’ll lead him away,” Jason says, despite being Swiss cheesed. “Stay here.”
“Normally I'd agree,” the kid says, “but your blood is mostly on the outside. If you go out you’ll die.”
She’s right. Jason’s still not about to let this kid be killed because of him.
the kid looks out the window and sighs like he’s deeply annoying. “Okay. Fine. I’ll take care of it I guess. Can I have a gun. “
What.
“What,” Jason says.
The kid makes grabby hands towards the gun in his hands. Jason let’s her take it because it’s out of bullets anyway and he’s very confused.
“Wait no,” Jason says. “Do not go out there and get in a gun fight,”
“Obviously,” she says. She holds the gun kind of awkwardly, but the way she clicked the safely off speaks of familiarity. “But if red hood dies, no one keeps Batman out of the narrows.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because Batman won’t let metas live in Gotham,” she says and leans out the window before Jayson can stop her. Pressure builds and builds until jaysons hair stood on end, instincts screaming at him. The girl's eyes gain pinpricks of glowing red in the iris.
“It’s high noon,” she says, an odd echo to her voice, as if she was calling down a long tunnel.
It’s like three am. Jason can still feel the blinding heat of a harsh midday sun on his face.
There are eight men in the alley below them, and one of them points upwards at the girl — but it’s too late.
“Draw.”
The girl pulls the trigger . The crack is defaning, even through the sound filters of Jason’s helmet. The heat vanishes, but the wariness doesn’t.
Down below, all eight men collapse at the same time. Jason can make out the neat little holes in each of their foreheads. Clean headshots.
The girl shakes her head, hands Jason the gun back and rubs her eyes. “Ow. Hate doing that.”
“What was that????”
“Don’t worry about it. Here, hold this thing,” she tosses him a baseball. “Embrace tranquility or whatever.”
“???” Jason says when the base ball begins to float and glow, this time gold -- and matching the pinpricks of gold light in the girl’s irises. Before he has time to drop it, he can feel his chest begin to knit together. “You can heal?”
“No,” Her face is completely straight. “It’s definitely not me. There’s no metas in gotham. Especially not in the narrows. That’d just be asking to get captured and sold.”
Jason glanced out the window, at the eight dead men, and the calm face of the girl. She couldn’t be more than twelve but there was no regret, or hesitation in her expression. Not the first time she’d killed.
“I can put you up in a safe house,” Jason says.
“Haha, death first. I’m not getting involved with your caped nonsense. I’m going to go to college and become an accountant.”
Argue about it till the orb fizzles out and Jason agrees to leave reluctantly. He knows how alley kids are, and forcing the issue won’t help.
“Whats your name?” He asks.
“……Gerard” she says, not changing her expression.
“You don’t look like a Gerard.”
“I’ll have you know that I am the platonic ideal of a Gerard. If you look Gerard up online you’ll find me and only me.”
Man Jason likes this kid. “Sure. See you around Gerry.”
“Man I hope not. Don’t forget to clean up your mess. I like this spot and I don’t need eu de corpse outside all day.”
Brat. Jason goes out the window, baseball in hand. Behind him, there’s a moment of quiet, and then the music starts up again. 
“Now Jesus died for them its true. What’s a devil to do? When the saints go marching in, I won’t be there because I love my sins…”
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