(Edited with Grammarly on 9/2/2026)
The silence that followed was noticeably different from before; it was no longer oozing this oppressive, hostile feel that made him second-guess his decision to walk out of the house with only a pocket knife as protection. Instead, it was more awkward than anything else.
"Thank you?"
Even to Albert's own ears, it felt off. Like it was more of a question than anything else. As honestly, what else was he supposed to say? Even though he'd decided to apologize for his behavior in the end, he hadn't really expected the same courtesy to be offered to him as well. A nice surprise, sure, but now it just left him a bit speechless.
'Should I just leave?'
At least from his side, there really wasn't a good reason to stay here any longer. They'd closed the hatch on their hostile relationship and...and now what?
Was he expected to go back to how things were before? He really didn't believe that was an option here.
"I know I've said this before," Barbara sighed, leaning away from center stage as well. Allowing a more respectable distance between them. "But I really, really thought we would be here for a while. Not to poke at old wounds, but I kinda expected a lot more teeth pulling...Now I feel like it was a waste to do, well, all this."
She waved at her outfit to emphasize her point.
"I wouldn't call it a waste; it does look good on you." Maybe he was feeling a bit playful, or perhaps it was the tension getting to him. But whatever the reason, it still caused the redhead to look away from him. A light reddish dusting on her cheeks and a small, shy smile on her lips.
"Thank you." She tucked a loose red strand back behind her ear, glancing off into the distance for a few seconds before snapping back to him. "You're-er looking…"
"I know, I know." Albert waved her off; he didn't need to be lied to just because of social niceties. He knew he looked terrible. More so than usual, at least. Days of lacking food and sleep had left it's mark on him. What he needed right then to feel like a human again was around ten hours of sleep, a few hearty meals, and a long hot shower.
"Well," She cleared her throat, trying to clear the new puff of awkward air between them. "I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot...Neither of us was really that honest with each other, so it makes sense things ended the way they did. I-I didn't really approach you with the best of intentions...well beyond what was expected. So how about this. We start over. Completely, but we have a simple rule between us. No lying, half-truths, or anything like that. I know, before you shoot me down, I'm not asking that we act like open books with each other. I'm not asking you to spill all your secrets, and I'm not doing that either. If we can't have honesty, then we just stay silent; neither of us push or prod or try to figure it out ourselves; we don't try to read into that silence...I-I just don't want us to keep playing those word games that got us into this kind of situation...What do you think?"
"…" It was an interesting proposal, but could he really trust her? Did that really matter, though? Especially since they were already starting over? Then, how much trust should he provide to a total stranger, essentially? "I guess we can see how things go, test the waters a bit, and if we find it doesn't really suit us, we can just split off with no hurt feelings."
"Cool, cool, cool." She nodded, drumming her fingers across the table in a steady rhythm. Actually appearing uncertain for the first time since taking foot into that shop. "Then, I'll start. My name is Barbara Gordon, and I spend most of my time either at home studying, working out, doing my side job, and perusing the library. I dislike parties to the point where, unless it's required for me to go, I will always find some excuse not to go."
He didn't try to read too deeply into her introduction, only taking everything she said at face value. It was hard, so hard not to take that information and really dissect it. For instance, he could've asked what her side job was all the while knowing the truth and trying to corner her into an impossible situation. He could even feel his tongue begin to fork in readiness to run absolute circles around her. Instead, he took a deep breath before silently dismissing those thoughts.
"My name is Albert Nelson. I spend most of my time doing odd jobs, hanging out with my friends, and playing with my cat. I used to frequent the library, but life gets in the way. And I dislike…prank calls."
While they had dropped off quite a bit, it still didn't make them any easier. Who would've thought giving some of the crankiest people in the world an outlet for that spite while keeping their anonymity wasn't a very good idea. But he would admit, the pranks were getting far more elaborate. Going from blatantly false or hostile calls to something a lot more frustrating. Now, there were some pranksters actually masquerading as actual clients with serious issues.
If he didn't have the system, well, he would've been running all across Gotham like a chicken with its head cut off. Following every lead only to come up on dead ends or maybe even landing himself in a bunch of ambushes.
"I don't mean to pry, but prank calls?"
"Yeah." He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a familiar business card. It's stylized eye on its back still sending a slight tingle up his spine that only really went away when he put his thumb over it. Before sliding it across the table to her. "It got so bad that I needed to get a business line and an answering machine just to get some peace."
"...It probably wasn't the best idea to put your personal number on here," Barbara said wryly, taking the business and taking the time to really look it over. "Seeking Eye Agency? I'm guessing you must've met a lot of interesting characters...Would you like to share some? Of course, only if you want to. No pressure."
"No, no, I do have one." While he was on somewhat good terms with most of his ex-clients, that didn't mean there weren't a couple he had some relatively blood with. "There was this one time this client of mine gave this sealed envelope just filled with cash. Well, I thought they were paying me extra to show their appreciation, but when I opened it, there was fifteen bucks in there. They'd taken the time and effort to crinkle the bills so that it would appear like they were giving me a lot. I honestly would've preferred they'd been upfront about it. They did give me some college books along with it, so I can't really complain."
College books were pretty expensive already, and actually hearing himself explain to someone else what happened kind of made him feel a bit spoiled? Ungrateful? Yeah, maybe that was the best word for it. He still had the books too, right upstairs under layers of used tabletop games and probably only used as a makeshift desk in the middle of the night.
He hadn't even cracked them open; who knew what kind of little tricks he could learn from them.
'Maybe...maybe I was a bit too hasty in blacklisting her.'
"Yeah, college books are crazy expensive. Especially those from the past five-ish years? They could've resold it for at least a hundred bucks, but it's also kind of weird to go through so much effort for a trick like that...But you said you used to frequent the library?"
"I used to go there almost every day."
He could still remember those days somewhat fondly; despite living in a shelter at the time, life had been way simpler back then. It gave him something to do between cases and allowed him to grind up some of his skills. But now? With that threat sent his way and all of his other responsibilities, he couldn't really find the time.
"Huh…" The redhead rubbed her chin in thought, eyes sliding off into the distance as her brows furrowed. "During the day, I'm usually there. Why didn't I notice you before?"
"Maybe we weren't on each other's radar." The teen shrugged. "I went there and kind of lost track of time most days. I barely even fully remember the librarian's faces. That's just how little I would interact with people there...If it helps any, I primarily read non-fiction back then."
"No, that wouldn't have mattered. As long as the topic was interesting to me, I would've read it. Didn't matter if it was fiction or non-fiction...It is strange, but you're probably right; I wasn't really too focused on anyone else there either...Well, maybe the librarians. They're all nice people, by the way; one of them even offered me a part-time job."
"That sounds like the dream." Working in a quiet building filled with nothing but books, spending his day just walking back and forth between those endless shelves all day while occasionally picking up something new or maybe old? He could only imagine the kind of peace such a life would lead. "Are you going for it?"
"I want to, yes! It's always been a dream of mine...But I don't know how I can with my other job; it's more of a night thing, but with school as well...I just don't know how I would be able to balance all three...Maybe if I cut out sleep?"
"At that point, you'll be living off of coffee and energy drinks."
"I know, right?!" She laughed lightly, leaning in closer while leaning more heavily on her propped-up palm. "But seriously, I know I can't do all three. College is my priority; I don't want to waste the scholarships, nor do I want to put a financial burden on my dad's back. My night job- we're doing some actual good in the city, and I don't morally agree with walking away from it. But this library job...It's something I wanted even when I was a kid, and I feel that turning down this opportunity would be like betraying my younger self...Do you know what I mean?"
"No, but I can guess."
That was often life sometimes. Pulling people in multiple directions. Their responsibilities, their financial stability, and their dreams. He'd tossed his own dream away as a young adult just to keep a roof over his head, and that in itself wasn't anything strange. Dreams died along with that childish version that dared to look for something more.
What had his dream been?
'I wanted to be an astronaut as a kid.'
He'd often bugged his parents for small props and would spend hours just pretending to be in a rocket. Would use empty paper-towel rolls as makeshift telescopes to gaze up into the sky; there had even been a time he could name every single constellation in the sky just based purely on memory. But those days were long behind him. The reality of such a massive undertaking quickly made that dream nothing more than that.
He wasn't good at math, wasn't too keen on heights, and didn't have the eye-hand coordination to be an adequate pilot.
Sometimes, he genuinely wondered how much different his life would've been if he'd actually tried to meet those standards. If he actually put in the work to make his dream a reality instead of just sitting around waiting for it to happen.
Would...would he even be here? Would he have still jumped?
It was only then that the sudden silence shook him from his revelry. And looking up, a pair of hard green eyes were narrowed into mere slits.
"...Sorry." Albert cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks growing a tad warmer. "Could you repeat that? I got a little lost there."
"No," the redhead shook her head and suddenly, the level of warmth in her face went down a few degrees. "No, it's fine. We should wrap things up here; you probably need your sleep, and I-I have some homework to do. Could you please walk me through how you got yourself involved in such a serious case, as much as you're willing to share at least."
He did feel a bit bad; it hadn't been intentional on his part to completely space out after she was beginning to open up, but trying to resolve it now wouldn't really work. Honestly, it was just better to move on for now.
Starting at the beginning, he retold mostly everything. From the first night, skipping over the less-than-legal things he did, like rummaging through Malaya's purse, bribing that employee to perform corporate espionage, holding said guy up with a gun the same day, and finally, especially skipping over his interrogation of Keegan.
But with a lot of the juicy bits cut out, his story did feel a bit lacking and probably so full of holes that even a child would know it wasn't complete. Before, the redhead probably would've tried to grill him for answers, try to squeeze as much truth out of him as possible through a verbal spar. Hell, he was even sure she might've been able to fill in the blanks even through his attempt. But she didn't.
Barbara simply sat there, her face dropping further and further into her palms as his story went on. He didn't even need to see her expression to know how fed up she was with him; it was probably the heavy groan that left her lips that really made things clear.
"God...Why?" Honestly, he felt that not all of her exasperation was pointed solely at him, but it was probably a good idea not to point that particular fact out. "Okay. Okay, it's not that bad...No one's dead, so that's a plus. But still...Is there a reason why you didn't just hand over all that evidence to the police? Why did you specifically feel like you needed to be involved directly?"
She was right. It would have been easier to just hand the evidence over and wipe his
"…I was there that night. I didn't know she'd been getting assaulted for the past year or so, but when I found out the truth, I realized I was there that night. I was right outside the building, oblivious to it all...I wasn't willing to wait for the cops to get their act together. To regather all the evidence I had always gift-wrapped for them. How long would it have taken for a genuine investigation?"
"A few weeks while they go through everything."
"That was too long for me, you know? Knowing what I did then, finding out the kind of monster Keegan is, I couldn't let things go on for weeks while the police took their time. He would've fled the country; he's done it in the past."
"I get it, the justice system is slow…" She bit her lip in thought, probably-
'No.'
He shook away the observation; he'd agreed not to read into every little detail, and he wasn't going to go back on that promise so soon.
"And that's one of my main gripes with it." The redhead continued, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the table between them. "I wish things would get better, but until we have something better, this is the type of system we're stuck with...I'm not going to sit here and lecture you...But you were being reckless. I get it, you couldn't sit back and do nothing, but even you must admit there were better ways to go about it. Just please, if something like this occurs again, reach out to someone you can trust first."
'I did have back-up.'
But it wasn't like he could say that. What kind of idiot would he be to start spilling the beans about his underworld connections to the Commissioner's daughter of all people?
"I will, thank you."
"That's all I ask," Barbara sighed, standing to loom over his seated form. Those glimmering jade eyes looked down at him warmly, a small smile gracing her lips. "This was nice. Really. A lot less stress than I thought this was going to be. I'll let you go now; you look like you need some more hours of sleep...Just don't be a stranger, okay?"
"Yeah." Standing as well, he let out a small half-grin of his own. "Do you want anything before you go? It's on me."
"The hell it is!" Jeremiah scolded up from the front. "Neither of you kids' money is good here! Albert! Go be a gentleman and walk her to her car!"
***
"Mr. Barton." Albert greeted, standing to his feet to shake the portly man's hand. He did try to smile a tad bit to lessen the tension, but even he could tell it was a forced thing and dropped it barely a moment later.
Isaac wasn't really looking the best, even more so than at their initial meeting. The man just seemed...hollow. Skin paler than usual and...did he lose a pound or two? Or maybe it was the old baggy shirt he was wearing.
"Sterling." He just nodded, limply shaking the hand before nearly collapsing into the booth. And up this close, it was easy to see the more pronounced dark bags under his eyes. "Thank you for agreeing to meet up on such short notice; things have been a bit hectic, and I didn't want you to think I was trying to stiff you on your payment."
"No, no! It's completely understandable," But leaving it like that would make it seem as if he, a lowly go-between, had any real decision-making power. "They're actually thinking of just accepting your deposit as payment enough."
"No, you tell those-" Barton stopped himself, shaking away the fatigue from his eyes just before an exhaustion-fueled outburst could come to the surface. Deflating, he slouched further. "No, I'm sorry. You guys don't deserve that. You've been doing nothing but help my wife and me...I'm sorry. I can't accept not paying you; if it wasn't for your organization...She would still be in that monster's hands. So please tell them that I refuse their refusal."
"Very well…" The PI nodded, letting a beat of silence fall between them before speaking up once more. "How are you and your wife doing?"
"We're...we're working on things." If possible, he slumped further into his seat. A pained look crossed his face as he took in a few steadying breaths. "After the cops got her statement down, the caseworker gave me a list of resources we could use. Therapy, some women's clinics, support groups, lawyers, and some stuff for me to work on to help Malaya...Thank your people for us, for getting us that lawyer. Met her the other day...and she's pretty intense, but it's needed, you know?"
"It's no problem."
And it really wasn't, as he had no actual hand in getting Laurel on this case.
"I really mean it though, thank you...Especially since that creature's father, the founder, actually called me. Offered me his condolences, and right when I thought he was going to try to get us to drop the charges against his son, he instead offered us an entire team of lawyers. And even offered me the position of senior director along with all manners of benefits…"
"…"
"Call me selfish, but even we didn't have the lawyer we do know. I don't think...No, I know I wouldn't have taken him up on his offer. Just the thought of accepting makes me want to throw up. I-I don't want anything to do with the company ever again. If I didn't need the money, I would quit the very moment I found out what happened. But...sadly, a lot of those programs aren't free. Currently, I'm planning on burning through my sick and vacation days and then quitting once they're up."
"Malaya overheard the call and tried to convince me otherwise, tried to say that I shouldn't give up my career for her…" Here, the man's gaze remained locked onto the table. He tried to hide the glistening in his eyes, but they both knew what was going on there. "Still, even after all that had happened, she tried to put me before her needs. Something, I realize she's been doing our entire relationship...I don't deserve her, I really, really don't…I don't care about some dead-end job, you know? I care about her, my partner for life, and her well-being...I wasn't there before; I'd been absent and been using my job as a way to get away from our problems...But I can't do that anymore. I won't."
"So after the trial, we will be leaving Gotham. To where? I have no idea...You know she's always wanted to live in a small town somewhere. With acres of land and surrounded by nothing but nature. She's always silently despised large cities like this, so maybe we'll try something like that? But I don't-it's probably for the best that she isn't completely cut off from everything. She-she needs these resources, and I won't deprive her of them."
"They're moving to a trial so soon?"
That didn't sound right. Why were they moving so fast here? Didn't cases like this get dragged for months or even years as the defense tries to fight tooth and nail to get the best terms possible for their client?
"Oh?" Isaac, gaining a little bit of energy, quirked a brow and grinned tiredly. "I guess your agency isn't all-knowing after all, huh? But, from what our lawyer told us, the courts are in talks with the Japanese Embassy right now. Apparently, once they heard that the creature had been arrested, an extradition request had been filed. And they're extremely eager to get their hands on him now. So now they're just arguing over whether or not to deal with the charges now or after he's been extradited. Hence why the case is moving so quickly...But if you ask me, no matter how glad I am at how fast they're handling things...it feels a bit fishy. Like someone greased some palms or something."
Despite how good the news was, maybe Albert too couldn't help but feel a twinge of suspicion as well.
'Could it be Bruce Wayne throwing around his weight?' And besides the known billionaire, he couldn't really think of anyone else with that much sway to get two separate governments to work so quickly. Especially not one who would go through the effort to get a monster like Keegan out of Gotham as fast as possible. 'Could it be two then?'
But him actually trying to figure that out felt like an effort in futility, as how could he actually go about investigating that? It was more likely that he would poke his nose where it didn't belong and get it cut off.
So for now, he had no other choice but to take it as a positive.
"But whatever the case, here." The man pushed the envelope closer, those beady eyes of his holding such conviction and stubbornness that if the brunette even tried to wriggle out of accepting, he just wouldn't allow it. Even if it meant stapling it to the teen's shirt or something. "I don't know how much they're paying you, but tell them, I said personally, that I want you to get at least twenty percent...And if they're not willing to do so, screw them and find somewhere else to work."
Albert could feel a slight twisting in his guts, taking all of his self-control right then and there not to make a face. He knew this deception was needed. He'd committed a lot of crimes in the pursuit of this case; any one of the more dire ones could easily earn him a spot in a juvenile detention center, or even could get him charged as an adult. Especially with what was essentially armed robbery.
He needed a degree of separation, a name or face that could be tossed away and make the trail that much harder to track. Besides, would this lie really cause any real harm?
'It doesn't matter if it causes harm or not.'
A lie was a lie, poison to any meaningful connection he could ever hope to form. Something he'd been all too comfortable spewing since the very moment he came into this world. Half-truths and implications were all just more flowery ways to ease his own conscience.
Biting back his initial reply, the teen simply nodded before stuffing the rather hefty envelope into his inner pocket.
His client was already dealing with a lot; there was no reason to pile more on. Isaac and Malaya were leaving Gotham; Sterling would disappear into the crowd never to be seen again, and life would move on.
"Thank you." It was a pathetic response; he knew. Feeling so hollow and completely inadequate for the gravity of the situation. He wanted to comfort the man, tell him that everything was going to work out. But that would've been beyond disrespectful. Simple empty platitudes that would do nothing but go in one ear and out the other. And maybe it might even draw the man's ire.
"No, thank you. You and the agency you work for...And if you ever get the chance, Malaya knew I was coming here today and wanted to make sure to also extend our thanks to Willow and Mr. Aslan. She tells me they were the ones who brought her out in the end."
"I'll be sure to pass the message along."
"Good." Isaac Barton stood, letting out a low groan as soft pops echoed out from his body. Despite that and everything going on, he did look markedly better. Stronger even, going from nearly being folded in on himself to just merely hunching. The heavy stubble on his chin and those dark eyes gave them a steely but haunted appearance to them. Glancing down, he held out his hand with a small upturn of his lips that could never be called a smile. "It was nice to meet you, Sterling. I wish you nothing but the best in all your ventures."
"Same to you, Mr. Barton."
"Take this advice from a screw-up of a husband who's seen the error of his ways like me." His grip grew firmer, as if telling him to listen and take the next words to heart. "Love, romantic or platonic, isn't always about the ups. Shit will suck sometimes. Sometimes tragedies will happen that'll make you just want to withdraw into yourself...Don't. Don't, ever, ever do that. Your silence, your absence will harm them more than you think."
[Case Closed: Oath-breaker!
Requirements: Verify if this wife in question has truly forsaken her vows!
Difficulty: F
Reward: 1 IP]