“Barbara,” Ethan said.
She spun back, pushing her glasses up again.
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” she replied, her voice a bit higher than usual.
“Are you romantically interested in me?”
Barbara’s eyes went wide, her face exploding into a deep blush that spread down her neck.
She stood frozen for a second, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“W-what?
Ethan, you can’t just…
you can’t just ask a girl that outright!
That’s…
that’s not how it works!”
He tilted his head slightly.
“I apologize if you’re not.
But the way you act gave me that impression.”
“No, no, I—” She cut herself off, realizing what she’d admitted, and her blush deepened to a near-purple shade.
She buried her face in her hands, muttering under her breath as she shuffled to the bed and flopped down.
“Oh god, I want to die right now.
Just bury me.”
Ethan observed her, finding the reaction puzzling—people’s emotional outbursts often seemed weird to him.
He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed beside her.
“I ask because I’m slightly confused as to why you are romantically interested.
Is it because of my physical appearance?”
“No!” She bolted upright, shaking her head vigorously.
“It’s not that…
well, not just that.
It’s your mind, Ethan!
You’re so incredibly smart, the way you dissect problems and come up with these creative solutions out of nowhere.
Like with the serum, you think in ways no one else does, layering ideas that seem impossible until you explain them.
I love how your brain works, how you see patterns in such mundane things.
It’s…
it’s inspiring, and exciting, and I just…
I can’t stop thinking about it!” She rambled without pausing for breath, words tumbling out in a rush, before slamming a pillow over her face with a muffled groan.
“I see,” Ethan said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
Barbara peeked out from under the pillow, summoning a burst of bravery.
“Is…
is it okay that I like you?
Like, does it bother you?”
He shrugged.
“I have no experience with it.”
She shifted closer on the bed, her knee brushing his.
“Would you…
be interested in me?
In trying, I mean?”
Ethan considered it.
Having a new experience, would be potentially useful for understanding social dynamics.
“It would be a good experience to have.” He nodded.
“We could try it.”
Barbara’s heart raced, an internal squeal bubbling up, but before she could respond, Ethan leaned forward and kissed her.
His lips pressed against hers firmly, catching her off guard.
She melted into it for a moment, her body leaning toward him instinctively, eyes fluttering shut.
But then reality hit, and she pushed him back gently, stuttering.
“E-Ethan, you can’t just surprise me like that!
I mean, wow, but…
warn a girl!”
He pulled back, unfazed.
“I apologize.
I’m not really sure what people in relationships do.
Was it bad?”
“It wasn’t bad,” Barbara said quickly, her gaze dropping to the floor before lifting back to his eyes, still flushed.
“It just surprised me.
We can…
try again, if you want.”
Ethan nodded, and this time he leaned in more deliberately.
Their lips met softer at first, but it deepened quickly, his mouth parting hers, tongues sliding together in a warm tangle.
She tasted faintly of mint, her tongue tentative at first but growing bolder, flicking against his as a soft moan escaped her throat.
Ethan’s hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body press against him as the kiss turned hungry, tongues swirling deeper, breaths mingling in hot exchanges.
Her fingers threaded into his hair, tugging lightly as another contented moan vibrated into his mouth.
They broke apart only when a door slammed downstairs, the sound echoing up.
Barbara drew back.
“That’s probably my mom.
Please, don’t tell her about us dating…
not yet, okay?”
Ethan nodded, standing up smoothly.
“I need to get going now anyway.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
She stood too, nodding.
“Will I see you soon?”
“Yes,” he said.
Barbara smiled, rising on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.
“See you.”
…
Ethan walked down the steps of the Gordon house, the door clicking shut behind him.
A faint sense of satisfaction settled in as he headed into the street—now he had an open invitation to the Commissioner’s home.
Dating Barbara meant he’d become a fixture there, someone unremarkable, trusted.
When the moment came for the police to bring him in it would do well to have the Commissioner on his side.
That access was the primary motive for starting this…
relationship, whatever it was.
Though, he admitted to himself, there was a sliver of curiosity about how it worked.
His parents’ bond was hardly a model; heroin addicts didn’t exactly embody healthy dynamics.
He walked back to the Doothenhall mansion, the trip blurring by without much thought.
Though when stepping through the front door, a wave of dizziness hit him hard; he stumbled, catching himself on the banister.
He knew the reason why, he was approaching on two days without sleep, and it was clear his body was now starting to feel some effects.
But he could rest later, for now he had to deal with the detective.
In the kitchen, he threw together a simple meal: a sandwich with ham and cheese, an apple, a bottle of water.
Nothing fancy, just sustenance.
He loaded it onto a tray and descended to the basement, flicking on the lights as he went.
The harsh bulbs buzzed to life, illuminating the cell in the corner where Renee Montoya sat huddled, her eyes snapping open at the sound of his footsteps.
She bolted upright, chains rattling faintly against the floor.
Two days in isolation had frayed her; hair disheveled, eyes wild with a mix of boredom and simmering rage, her posture tense like a coiled spring.
“Sorry for the absence,” Ethan said evenly, setting the tray down.
“Business in Metropolis kept me away.”
Renee glared, but her gaze flicked to the food, hunger winning out.
Ethan slid the tray through the small slot in the door, locking his side with a click.
She yanked hers open, grabbing the items and tearing into the sandwich without a word her bites frantic and ungraceful, crumbs scattering as she devoured it.
Ethan grabbed a nearby chair, its legs scraping faintly against the concrete floor as he dragged it over and positioned it directly in front of the massive glass cell.
He sat down, crossing his arms loosely, and fell silent, his gaze fixed on Renee as she ate.
She devoured the food without a hint of self-consciousness, her naked body exposed but irrelevant to her in that moment—hunger overriding everything else.
Ethan respected that; social conventions like modesty had always baffled him, especially when they interfered with basic needs.
He remained there not moving an inch, even after she finished the last bite and set the empty tray aside, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
He was silent for a while just watching her, while she watched him back.
Finally, he spoke.
“You ever find it strange when you’re put in a situation and you find yourself doing things that you never thought yourself capable of doing?”
Renee didn’t reply, her eyes narrowing slightly as she met his stare.
“Before I encountered Creedence, the worst crime I ever committed was buying drugs…
not even for myself, but for my parents.”
He paused, letting the words settle.
“Now I’ve murdered Creedence, I’ve murdered that other man who showed up at the apartment, I kidnapped a detective, I blew up city hall, I blew up a hospital.”
Renee’s head snapped up fully, her expression twisting in shock.
“What?
You blew up a hospital, and city hall?!
Why would you do that!”
“Don’t worry detective, there were no casualties in either case.
I made sure of that.
But I had to.
One to get rid of the evidence, and two to distract Superman, even I’m not foolish enough to tangle with him.”
Renee stared at him for a moment, then surged forward, slamming her fists against the glass with a resounding thud.
“¡Hijo de puta!
¡Estás loco, cabrón!
¡Vas a arder en el infierno por esto!” (Son of a bitch!
You’re crazy, asshole!
You’re going to burn in hell for this!)
Ethan tilted his head, responding calmly.
“No estoy loco.” (I’m not crazy.)
Her eyes widened in surprise at his proficiency, but she quickly switched back to English, her voice edged with urgency.
“You have to give yourself up.
Things are spiraling out of control, they’ll only get worse from here.”
Ethan considered that for a moment, stroking his chin absently.
“You do have a point there.
Things have gotten worse.
But it’s not too much of an issue, the game is nearly over now.”
“What does that mean?” Renee asked, a note of concern creeping into her tone.
Ethan didn’t reply, his expression unchanging.
“I do find myself wondering what I’ll do when it’s all over,” he said changing the subject.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping a fraction.
“I feel…
afraid,” he admitted.
“I’m afraid that life will go back to how it was before…
that I’ll sink back into the void I’ve spent my life in, such a dull existence.
Even now I wonder how I went on for so long without screaming.”
I have so much power and potential, and yet I can’t think of what to do with it.”
“Maybe I should become a villain,” he said idly.
“It would be interesting to try and take down beings like Superman.”
Renee didn’t know why, but that idea sent a chill through her, a deep, instinctive terror at the prospect of this detached young man evolving into a true supervillain.
For a moment, she swallowed the boiling rage and outrage she harbored toward him, forcing her voice to calm down.
“I think you’re wrong,” she said.
“How so?” Ethan asked, genuinely curious.
“It’s easy to be a villain or a criminal.
It takes no thought at all to kill or hurt someone.” Her voice shook slightly as she spoke, but she pushed on.
“But us…
we deal with serial killers, organized crime, villains, and psychos.
There’s been a rise in the number of traffickings in Gotham in the past few years, meaning we have a trafficking ring set up in the city.
Somehow, we have to find the leaders and take it down and save all those who have been kidnapped.”
“You tell me which one is harder now.”
Ethan didn’t say anything for a long moment, then a slight smile tugged at his lips.
He began clapping slowly, the sound echoing in the confined space.
“Bravo, detective.
You played me.”
“Played you?” she echoed, frowning.
“I’m not an idiot.
I understand what you’re doing.
But you’re also right.
Being a hero does sound more interesting…
and in truth, growing up with people like my parents has given me a distaste for people of the same ilk.”
He then looked back down at Renee a small grin forming on his face as he leaned against the glass.
You’re interesting…” Ethan said, leaning forward again, his eyes locking onto hers.
“You put down your anger at me for what you perceive to be the greater good.
People in your position would struggle to do that.”
He thought for a moment, then nodded to himself.
“Tomorrow I’ll come back.
I’ll bring you some entertainment and clothing to make your time here less difficult.”
Renee shook her head, pressing closer to the glass.
“Just release me, Ethan.
The police will know I’m missing soon, they’ll come looking and things will be a lot worse for you.”
“I don’t think I have to worry about that,” Ethan chuckled softly.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out her phone.
He dialed a number, then muted the the containment cell on her side while keeping his end open so she could listen without screaming, and switched it to speaker.
“Montoya!
I’ve been calling you for damn hours, city hall has gone to shit, and I’ve got reports of Creedence’s house blowing up.
Where are you!”
“Sorry, Bullock,” Ethan said, mimicking Renee’s voice with eerie perfection, everything was identical.
Renee went pale, her mouth falling open in disbelief.
“Creedence’s apartment was a bust.
Iron Row got there before I could and torched the place.”
“Damn!
So where are you?!
Why haven’t you come into the office?”
“Sorry, Bullock, but my Ma is sick, and it’s not looking good.
I had to leave last night to visit her.”
“Damn, Montoya, you can’t just leave in the middle of a case.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to.
Let the commissioner know for me, I’ll be back soon, but don’t expect me to pick up my phone.”
“Montoya, wait, I—”
“Goodbye.” Ethan cut the call, then snapped the phone in half with a sharp crack, dropping the pieces to the floor and stamping on them until they were crushed.
“There…
now the police won’t be expecting you back for a while.”
Renee sank back onto her mattress, a shocked expression frozen on her face, her eyes wide and unblinking as the reality settled in.
Ethan stood up, pushing the chair back with a casual shove.
He turned and walked out of the basement without another word, Renee remaining silent, her gaze following him until he disappeared up the stairs.
Once he reached the top, he locked the basement door securely behind him and stepped out of the mansion into the cool Gotham evening.
As he did, he reflected on what he’d just done; confessing his crimes, hinting at his plans.
It was a risk, even if minimal; there was always a chance she could escape, and if she did, things would complicate exponentially.
He knew all that.
But he still did it.
He didn’t know why, exactly, but there was a strange sense of comfort in speaking so frankly with someone.
Renee Montoya had the whole picture of his deeds, and he didn’t have to worry about her spilling it—soon enough, her memories would be wiped clean.
He enjoyed it.
So he would take the risk.
For now though, he would continue as usual.
(AN: So Ethan has got his new powers and is essentially home free when it comes to the police, and he is now in a relationship with Barbara Gordon, all according to Keikaku.
Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it’s going to pick up a bit firm here as iron row still need to be dealt with.
Enjoy)
Support if ya want.