Overdose Delusion

35

 Looking down at the remote in his hands, Bruce frowned. He had admittedly put a tracer on Willow. But the trail ended here. Looking around the small alleyway he frowned when he spotted the familiar coat she had been previously seen in. He looked worriedly at the blood splatters on it. Hearing a quiet thudding behind him he turned.

Willow sat crouching on a crate looking at him bored. "You all right, Batman? You don't look too well."

Lowering his arm and putting the remote into a belt pocket he turned to her. "Do you know what Protocol 10 is?"

Willow lifted her goggles up and looked at him. "No. Should I?"

"No." Bruce looked her over. "Where did you get your things?"

"Strange."

"Of course."

"It's strange," Willow giggled slightly. "It's strange that Strange gave me my things." She giggled again at the slight ironic pun in her words.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Sure," jumping down she crossed her arms and walked over to him. "This is a prison, not conventionally, more metaphorically. We're all here. You already said we were, apart from a few people. So why would you purposely give someone weapons?" Willow looked up at him. "Least of all me. I mean, I do have a past of blowing shit up. That'll be annoying to everyone." She pointed a finger at him. "Especially you."

"Catwoman briefly said something a little similar to what you're hinting."

"That all this shit is for you?"

"Yes."

Willow shook her head sadly and looked at the floor. "As much as fun as it would be to annoy you. I can't be bothered. Generally, can not be assed. I would much rather find somewhere safe to hide and sleep. I've not slept since coming here." She rubbed her forehead and frowned tiredly. "Do you need help?" She looked up at him hopefully.

"You think by possibly helping me, it wouldn't look so bad that you were even in here?"

"Hey, I'm not meant to be here." Willow smiled surely. "If I could I would escape. But I can't, because escape is impossible. Trust me I researched into this place, it was a hobby. A really lame one, but I know enough to know I can't get out of here."

"I'm stuck in here too, you know?"

"But you can just fly over the wall and walk away any time you wanted!"

"It's not that easy."

Willow looked at him dubiously. "It's either I stick around with you, or I go hide, or I go kill someone for a piece of stale bread again, or I hunt out Thomas to try and kick his ignorant, annoying, trench coat wearing ass." Willow seethed at the mere mention of Thomas. Hearing his name, Bruce frowned heavily and looked down at her.

"You go and find him, you will die."

"Pfft," Willow didn't seem to really care.

"Why do you want to give him a beating?"

"He helped my brother, my brother in return killed Luke and I killed him, remember? You were there when this happened."

"Would beating Thomas really fulfil anything?"

"Only boredom."

"You'd go to him to kill boredom, even if it meant getting killed yourself?"

"Sure, sounds interesting, that and he's hilarious to piss off!" Willow laughed and scratched her head.

Bruce rolled his eyes. As much as team work was a tricky thing, something told him he should keep Willow close. It just generally sounded like she was going to run and get herself killed. Looking over her, he frowned. Her old injuries had healed, only new ones had replaced them. It seemed like she had been in another fight since the last time he saw her.