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seven, delphi

CECILY LANGE WAS a former League of Assassins member, one of their few data brokers and one of his good friends. She operated under the name of Delphi, though Jason had always been puzzled why she hadn't opted to go for the field instead.

The few times he'd asked, her response had been, "I'm not good enough for that."

She wasn't a bad fighter though. Especially not compared with some of their lesser-trained, or even self-trained allies. She still had League training, but if she preferred sitting in a chair behind the scenes, who was he to judge?

And in his head, she was likely the one Callie would most like. And she was just disconnected enough from the rest of the family that it might not put too much pressure on Callie.

Speaking of Callie, she didn't seem all too happy with being dragged off to god knows where, but the fact that she was following him was a good sign.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he'd followed her out today. He'd lied, saying he was scouting the Swinton building. There wasn't much to scout. But he'd been interested in what she did on a day to day basis except writing away on her blog, and a part of him had been worried she might opt to go off on her own again.

She'd met with Sylas Thorne. He wasn't sure why. From their body language, they hadn't seemed familiar, or even known each other. Business, then? But why would someone like Thorne have business with Callie?

Well, she has to make money from somewhere.

Some kind of service, then? With her powers...

It was, likely, something to do with her powers. But he wasn't going to ask, and he certainly wasn't going to tell her he'd seen her meeting with Thorne. Because that would lead to her realising he was following her, and likely all hell would break loose.

Instead, he dragged her off to see Cecily.

Cecily had set up camp in a nice, cosy apartment owned by Wayne Enterprises, going between assisting them alongside Barbara or working on her own solo projects. They tended not to impose on her personal space. Sometimes she upped and disappeared for a couple weeks, and none of them had a single clue where she'd gone off to.

She was mysterious that way, and seemed to pride herself on that.

He rang her doorbell. Callie stood behind him, arms crossed with a frown on her face. "I really don't see why this is—"

The door swung open. Cecily's head popped out. Blonde hair, large eyes, mouth curved in a grin. "Jason! So nice of you to visit." Then she spotted Callie and offered a lopsided smile. "You're the friend he mentioned."

Callie stared at her for a moment, blinking. "Hi?"

"I'm Cecily. Cecily Lange." She offered her hand. "You are?"

"Callie. Callie Wan." Callie took it. She was wearing her gloves today.

"Callie! So nice to meet you." Cecily was in one of her bubbly moods today. Jason eyed Callie to see how she was taking in all this. She seemed a bit confused, but not annoyed. Good. "Do come in. I swear, no one visits me anymore."

"I thought you didn't like being visited," Jason pointed out. "And doesn't Remiel stop by once a month?"

Callie just stared. "Who's Remiel?"

Cecily glanced at her, and then at Jason, who gave a nod. "She knows a lot already. Trustworthy, don't worry." To her, he said, "Remiel is Dick's girlfriend. Nightwing's girlfriend. You might also know her as Phantasma. Cecily here is Delphi."

Realisation dawned in Callie's eyes. "I've read about you before. You don't... go out as Delphi very often."

"I prefer working behind the scenes," Cecily said with a shrug. "I'll leave the field out to people like him. So, what are you guys exactly here for?"

"Wanted you two to meet," Jason said. "And Callie's the writer of Themis."

Callie shot him a glare, but he ignored her. Not like Cecily wouldn't know if she wanted to figure it out anyways. She'd just never bothered. That news seemed to delight Cecily, though. "Oh my, you're the writer?

"Are you a reader?" Callie asked, tilting her head.

"More than that." Cecily offered a wink. "I've sent in a few tips once or twice."

Jason glanced at her. "You're not meant to do that."

"Look, sometimes, it's best to investigate with other people. Different viewpoints and perspectives." Cecily rolled her eyes. "As if you're a stickler for the rules, Jason."

"Right. Okay. Do you have any ways to further strengthen the security of Themis? Bruce was able to locate her, others could too."

Callie raised her hand. "I really don't need—"

He cut her off with a glare. She glowered in retaliation.

He wasn't sure why she was being so stubborn over this. She had nothing to lose. Unless she was worried they'd somehow monitor her activities, which he supposed was probably a real fear for her. But really, it was for her own safety. And there was a reason he'd brought her to Cecily, more detached from the family than anyone else, rather than Barbara. Or hell, Bruce himself.

Bruce would probably just convince her to shut the blog down, though. Not that he thought Bruce would be successful in that particular endeavour.

He decided then, with some grim determination, that he had to earn her trust. Not that he hadn't already been trying to do so, but that it was an absolute priority. She had to trust him. Trust that he had her best interests at heart, that their goals were aligned. It was the truth, and he wouldn't be lying. But she wasn't letting herself see it.

Really, it wasn't that unachievable a goal. He'd been working at earning back lost trust for the past few years of his life. Albeit, he wasn't sure if Callie had ever had any trust in him in the first place.

She was chatting with Cecily now, still being a bit reserved, but not as tense as earlier. That was a step in the right direction.

Jason decided to hang back, let Cecily do her thing. Him interjecting might make Callie more uncomfortable.

They stayed there for an hour. He stayed mostly quiet, letting the two women handle the conversation. He loitered in the background, trying not to look too overly interested in their conversation. He wanted to pick up bits and pieces of Callie Wan that she might reveal to Cecily.

He learnt that Callie had, in fact, been in the party scene while in London. No, she wasn't familiar with nightlife in Gotham, at least not the legal kind. Her music taste was a bit all over the place, but she tended to favour pop-punk and some indie, alternative rock. But she also enjoyed some conventional pop, and the occasional Kpop song every once in a while.

Yes, she spoke Chinese. Mandarin only. She was fluent, but not nearly as good as she ought to be. No, she couldn't write or read Chinese well.

That was interesting. Cyrene had been proficient in the language. Perhaps Callie had left China too young. That seemed likely.

Cecily had resided in Sichuan, though the fact that she'd been there as a League assassin was withheld from Callie . No, Callie hadn't been to Sichuan before. Her family was from Suzhou. No, she hadn't been there since she was a little girl.

Cecily was, in a way, running her own line of interrogations. She was masking it spectacularly, hiding it behind a veneer of excitement and interest. Jason hadn't asked her to. But no matter what, she'd been a trained League assassin. And she was a collector of information. Callie was an enigma to Cecily, a mystery to solve, a name to remember.

Jason decided to tell Callie a bit more when they'd left. In a quiet voice, he said, "She used to be a member of the League of Assassins." They were strolling down the street towards where he'd parked his motorcycle. She'd taken the bus here, and Jason had offered to drive her back. She hadn't refused.

Callie's eyes snapped over to him, instantly alert and intrigued. "But Cyrene said—"

"Some people have managed to leave on good terms over the years. Cecily. Dick's girlfriend, Remiel. And... me."

Callie stiffened. He'd already told her, of course, but it still seemed to surprise her when he mentioned it.

She fixed her eyes on him in silent question, prodding him for more information.

"Cecily was an acolyte, a novice assassin. Remiel is... a long story, but it's not my story to tell. I was a special case. Brought there as a favour to Bruce. Or perhaps to use it as a weapon against him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Information is power, Callie. And I don't want you locked up in your own world. I want you to see everyone else around you. There's people who do understand what you feel like, who can talk to you about the things you can't talk to normal citizens about. Most of your sister's old acquaintances would be more than happy to talk to you. She had many friends."

"They're her friends, not mine."

"Who are your friends, then?"

"I have friends in England."

"And when was the last time you talked to them?"

Her gaze hardened. "We're here to work out how to get revenge for my sister. Not to discuss my social life."

"We're not discussing your social life, we're discussing your lack of one. Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not fucking lonely, Calypso Wan."

She stopped in her tracks. Spun on her heels. Her gaze meeting his, filled with rage, she jabbed a finger at his chest. "Do not assume things about me, Jason Todd."

"I'm not assuming things," he replied, arching a brow. "I know it. Because I know exactly what you feel like."

"You keep saying that, and yet they both run free." Her voice lowered now to a silent hiss. "If you understood, you would have tried harder."

"Sometimes," he said softly, "trying isn't enough."

Some people grieved by locking themselves up, shutting out the rest of the world. Forcing themselves into solitude. Some reacted through anger. Rage at the rest of the world, for taking what they cared away from them.

Callie did both.

And it had been five years already.

She had to move on. She could not, should not spend the rest of her life fixed on her sister.

Cyrene would hate seeing her like this. He knew how much Cyrene cared for Callie. Wanted the best for her. And it killed him to know that even now he was failing his old friend.

He needed to do better.

"Roy's stopping by Gotham next week."

Her gaze snapped to him. "You didn't—"

"He visits once every few months." He gave her a bored look. "Don't overthink it."

Begrudgingly, she turned away. "I want to get Scarecrow done and over with."

"One of his shipments is due for tonight. I'll be there."

"Tracker?"

"Hopefully. If I'm lucky, I can follow it right to his base. I wouldn't get my hopes up, though. It won't be as straightforward as that."

"Tell me how it goes." Her eyes fluttered shut. He watched as her hand gripped her other arm. "I'm going to be up late, so keep me updated."

"The fuck you need to stay up for?"

She sent him an incendiary glance that was meant to deter him from prodding further, but it didn't work. If anything, Jason was now even more curious. "I hope you're not planning on going out in the city again."

"No." Her mouth was clamped in a thin line, her displeasure clear. "Where the hell did you park your motorcycle?"

"It's close. So what are you doing, then?"

"Why must I sleep early?"

"You clearly have a purpose in staying up late, and I'm curious what that purpose is. It's Gotham City. Nothing at night is good."

"You sleep far less than me, I'm sure."

"I can protect myself."

"And I can't?"

He gave her a look telling her exactly what he thought the answer was.

She let out a scoff, rolling her eyes. "Again and again, you underestimate me."

"In combat? I don't think I'm underestimating." He shook his head. "Whatever lessons Oli and Dinah gave you, I assure you, it's not enough here."

"I'm not saying I can fight against the superpowered ones."

"I'm saying you might not even be able to handle the normal ones."

They were at his motorcycle now. He motioned for her to get on behind him. She did, with some reluctance, and just sat there.

Jason murmured, "I'd advise holding onto me unless you want to get flung off the motorcycle. And put your fucking helmet on."

He could practically hear her gritting her teeth. But she obeyed, wrapping her arms around his waist. Despite the fact she was wearing gloves and his bare skin was not exposed, she still took visible care in making sure her hand did not graze his clothes. Her limbs were toned, he silently observed. She clearly worked out, hardly a damsel in distress. But it wasn't enough. Not in Gotham City.

He would do his best to deter her from putting herself in danger. Even if, so far, it seemed like a pointless endeavour.

Maybe he should see if anyone was free tonight, to keep an eye on her. Just staying in the distance, monitoring her, making sure she stayed in.

But it also felt like an invasion of privacy.

And since when the fuck did you start caring about that?

Maybe because if she noticed, their entire partnership would explode. Albeit she ought to have more faith in his siblings regarding their ability to monitor in hiding. Callie was more alert and on guard then most ordinary people, but she was still, at the end of the day, a normal civilian.

He stopped his motorcycle before his apartment, turning his head to glance at her as she got onto her feet. "I'll text you. However things go tonight."

"Just give me a call," she said casually. "Again, I'll be awake."

"Go to sleep, Callie."

She shook her head. "I won't be able to even if I tried."

He winced. "Insomnia?'

"Something like that."

"If you ever need someone to talk to... I am here, you know." Even though he knew she wouldn't take him up on that offer. Even if he knew that call would ever come. He didn't want her to suffer alone, but sometimes, there just wasn't anything you can do to help someone.

She rubbed her arms as if she was cold. "I know. Whatever. I just wanted to apologise for starting earlier."

"It's alright. It's a bit rude for me to just assume things."

"You were right, though," she said with a shrug. "I'm lonely as all hell. I don't have any friends in Gotham, not really."

"We're all here for you."

She cracked a half smile. "No offence, but if I wanted to make proper friends, I think I'd look outside your circle. Normal people, you know."

"They won't get how you feel. Having civilian friends is great, but don't let what happened to your sister deter you from the rest of us as well."

"I don't want to go through what I had to with Cyrene again." She raised her head, meeting his eyes. There was deep hurt in those eyes. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was on the verge of tears, but Callie struck him as the type of person who didn't particularly like to cry. "You all live dangerous lives, and quite frankly, I don't think I can afford to lose anyone else."

"So you're going to shut yourself off from all human interaction?" he asked incredulously. "You never plan on dating? Never meeting anyone new or letting anyone into your life because you're terrified of the day you'll lose them?"

"Romance is the last thing on my mind right now." And it didn't sound like a lie. "I can't afford to have a relationship if I'm barely able to manage myself. And I..." she let out a sigh, and Jason knew he'd won the argument. "I'd figure something out. Someday."

"Is that what you keep telling yourself?"

He was acutely aware that he was still perched on his motorcycle and she was standing on the sidewalk. And that people were passing by. No one seemed to pay them much attention, though, which he was grateful for.

And as much as he wanted this conversation to go somewhere, it was the wrong time and place. He needed to start preparing for tonight. It was starting to edge towards sunfall, and he didn't know the exact time the shipment might arrive.

She knew it too. She raised her chin by the slightest and said, "Go."

He did.

HE DIDN'T FULLY keep his promise. Just in case she had slept after all, he texted instead.

Tracker attached.

His siblings made fun of him incessantly for his formal way of texting. He couldn't help it. It felt wrong to do anything else, and perhaps he secretly enjoyed the way he was teased for it.

Everyone liked being special.

He left his phone and headed to take a shower. When he came back out, towel draped over his shoulders, he realised he'd missed a call from Callie.

Not asleep after all.

He called back.

"I told you," her annoyed voice came over the phone, slightly muffled, "to call."

He ignored her complaint. "Are you eating something?"

"Strawberries."

"Have you considered that eating at three in the morning may be why you fail to sleep properly?"

"I'm eating because I can't sleep. I had dinner at seven. I'm hungry. Leave me be."

He mused over that for a second. "You don't remind me of a strawberry girl."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? How is there a specific type of girl for whom strawberries are reserved for?"

"Okay, fine," he admitted. "That statement made very little sense. Just..."

"What the hell is a strawberry girl?"

"One of my friends—well, she's more like... Remember the Remiel I spoke about earlier? She's basically her younger sister. Sort of."

"So. Like me to you? With Cyrene?"

Jason paused. "Yeah. Basically."

"Right."

"Her name's Odile. And she's what I meant by a strawberry girl. Loves pink. I think strawberries are her favourite fruit, she just gives off the vibe."

"How old is she?"

Jason squinted. He actually wasn't sure. But Damian was eighteen, and Odile was just a bit younger... "Sixteen? Seventeen? Somewhere around there, probably. Just a kid."

She hummed. "Interesting. So. Scarecrow?"

"Tracker tapped on the shipment."

"What were the contents?"

"More chemicals. Definitely for making fear gas."

"How... how close do you think he is to exercising his plans?" There was a hint of worry in her voice. They needed to bait Scarecrow out, but they couldn't afford to wait long enough that he could actually execute his plan. That would be too much damage.

"Close," Jason admitted. "But if I strike... it'll be within the next few days. I promise you, I'll get him."

"Where's the tracker now?"

"It's been going around the East End for the past half an hour. Think they're trying to throw off anyone on its trail. It's not going to work, of course. It'll have to arrive at its destination before sunrise, or people will get suspicious."

When she spoke again, a note of pleading had crept into her voice. "Please tell me you'll get him."

"I swear to you on my life. Scarecrow is not walking away again." He meant it. He wasn't sure if she believed him, though.

But it seemed to placate her, because she let out a quiet breath of relief. "Once you get him... I'll go to Star City. If you want me to see Roy and Dinah and Oli. I promise."

She was treating this like a transaction. As if he wasn't going to get Scarecrow if she didn't agree to go visit Star City. He hated it, but he said nothing. If it made her feel any better, more relieved, more trusting of him, then fine. It felt better in her head if she thought she was giving as well as taking. People like her didn't like accepting favours with no strings attached.

"I can arrange that."

Was it the tiredness and the late hour? It felt like he was talking to a Callie Wan without thorns. Completely without armour, for once in her life. Nothing blocking the rest of the world out. Just an exhausted, lonely girl grasping at the straws of hope.

But she also felt real. So human. So vulnerable. If he ignored that hint of melancholy, he almost liked talking to this version of Calypso.

When she said nothing in response, he whispered, "Go to sleep, Callie."

He thought she was going to rebuff him. Tell him to mind his business. Get the fuck out of her life. Instead, sounding bleary, her voice replied, "Okay. Good night, Jason."

He could swear he almost felt his heart melt.

sorry this took so long!!!!! only a bit until christmas break & i'll prob do my best to write as much as possible whenever i'm not studying :) 

i've been planning a ya fantasy series!!!! i literally have SOOOO much worldbuilding & plans for it already and i can't wait to share it with you guys!!! it's prob going to be quite a big series again, likely 5-6 books??? but i want to actually properly plan it out this time so :)))) 

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