Walking Home [Batgirl]

[megan]

It's late at night - or, technically, very early in the morning - and Margaret is walking home after another busy day in the cafe. For a woman of her age and social standing a walk through this part of Gotham this late at night would normally be very dangerous. But for Margaret the danger is lessened by the fact that many of the dangerous people who are out this late at night either like and respect her or at least know who she is - and the latter generally don't want to anger the former.

But the protection offered by being well-liked by all sorts of people isn't total, and Margaret is well aware of that. Still, she's not one to jump at shadows so she spares little thought to her safety as she makes her way through the dark streets to her little apartment. At least, not until she's suddenly and roughly grabbed from behind and finds a knife at her throat.

"Well, what do we have here?" says an unfamiliar voice, and it only takes a moment for Margaret to realize that she's in trouble. Whoever the man is that's grabbed her, she doesn't know him, and the surrounding streets are quiet - she can't hold much hope that they'll be spotted. Instead she silently hopes that he'll be satisfied with what's in her pockets and leave her be. Then again, this is east Gotham - that's being optimistic. Nevertheless, she offers no resistance as he keeps the knife at her throat with one hand and starts rummaging through her pockets with the other; she's a weak woman with a lot of years behind her - resisting won't work and would therefore only cause problems.

[k]

[/b] she smiled. "Are you alright?" Babs asked. The mugger would have faced a far worse fate had he managed to actually hurt Margaret somehow. For now, he was just a petty criminal.[/ul]

[megan]

One would expect that Margaret would be surprised when the mugger drops his knife, but the woman seems hardly phased when she's suddenly released, Batgirl comes into view, and he man tries to run but is quickly dispatched. Indeed, she seems quite calm as she merely stands aside and watches, rubbing her neck where the knife was pressed up against it. If there's anything that Margaret is good at, it's staying calm and keeping out of the way.

When Batgirl looks up at her, Margaret stops rubbing her neck and checks her hand for blood, but fortunately the man hadn't been rough enough to break the skin so she says, "No harm done." Now that the man has been rendered harmless to anyone, she looks him over curiously for a moment now that she can actually see him before commenting, "That's what I thought: nobody I've ever seen. Must be new around here." Which isn't the only reason that Margaret would be attacked, but certainly the most plausible.

It's an odd sort of niche that Margaret's carved out for herself: it's true that she's a mother, though her children are grown and gone. Gone in more than one sense of the word, actually. It's not a hard stretch for her to let other people substitute for the children who in a lot of ways still need her care but aren't available to her. But there's no shortage of people around here who need a little bit of mothering, and since she gives that to them so many of them treat her not unlike the way they would treat a mother figure.

"Hmm, I guess we're even now," she comments dryly as she looks back up at Batgirl.

[k]

[/b] she added, with a small smile. She knew Margaret's reputation around here, and that she wasn't one who people tended to mess with. Margaret had a lot of allies in East Gotham, not because she was an accomplice or because she too was a criminal, but because she remained on neutral ground. She neither indulged in Gotham's crime, nor took offense to it all. She had certainly been willing to help Batgirl when she needed it, and hadn't had to fear the consequences. She was not determined by the so-called side of good nor evil, not persuaded in any particular direction.

"I came here to thank you again for what you did. This-" she paused and glanced back at the man "- is what I do. Patching up vigilantes isn't what you do. I don't think we're quite even," Babs smiled. Margaret had gone above and beyond what any average citizen would have done, but Babs' job was to stop crime and bring justice. She didn't consider them square because she'd saved Margaret from whatever fate may have befallen her after being mugged.

The wind whipped around her, causing rubbish and leaves to dance as it blew. What had been quite a still night was picking up a bit, Babs noted. She overheard a second call out through her com-link, but again it didn't strike her as anything of massive importance. It was nice to be able to remain alert whilst on the patrol though.
"Heading home?" Babs asked, though she imagined there was little chance Margaret was heading anywhere else. She noted how calm she'd remained throughout the incident, just like she'd remained calm when Babs had been bleeding all over her cafe. Margaret was definitely a woman of strong character, not easily perturbed by anything. [/ul]

[megan]

Margaret is half tempted to point out that if patching up vigilantes wasn't one of the many things that she does then she wouldn't have helped Batgirl. But instead she shrugs and comments, "I'll just add the extra to Batman's tab." Though she's mastered the skills of not saying anything and saying something without seeming to, it's nice to be out of the cafe and somewhere where there isn't quite so much listening going on - it leaves her free to make such idle comments that could get her killed so easily if the right ears heard them. Being seen helping an injured Batgirl is one thing, while implying that she's had much association with Batman is quite another.

Batgirl's question gets a nod and she adds, "Little place just around the corner. It's good to keep the commute short, but I never liked this alleyway." She shakes her head to herself as she glances around at all the dark corners. Just because she's calm doesn't mean that she's confident or unafraid - actually she's more resigned herself to the fact that some things are just outside of her control.

[k]

[/b] she mentioned. She had half wanted to catch Margaret at the cafe so she could grab a coffee - she was tired right now and could really go for a boost of the caffeinated beverage variety. Margaret usually stayed open late, but she'd obviously just missed her. Probably for the best though, Babs thought, it wasn't like she was actually carrying any money on her, not could she just pop to the ATM and get something out.

Babs was feeling the sleep deprivation now, and was looking forward to getting home and going to sleep. She'd probably find something to catch her eye and fall asleep infront of the Batcomputer. Average night, she thought. Alfred would find her around seven in the morning and try to make her eat some breakfast, but she'd be out the door and heading to Uni before anything else. It was just a regular occurence now, although she was growing increasingly worried about how her visits to the Wayne Manor would be interpreted now her boyfriend had moved out. That wasn't something she'd like to face awkward questioning about from someone like Vicki Vale. Right now, it wasn't a problem, no one really knew, but it only took one person to catch on to Babs' visits to raise some eyebrows.

The alleyway they wee currently standing in looked like any normal alleyway to Babs, but to Margaret it was obviously something of more importance. East Gotham was full of dodgy alleyways, regardless. They all seemed the same in terms of how dangerous they were to venture down. This one was obviously one of a slightly more dangerous nature, but still Margaret seemed rather unfazed by the incident.
"You want me to come with you?" Babs asked, glancing in the direction of the other end of the alleyway. She knew Margaret would probably refuse, and than Babs would pursue her from the rooftop to ensure she got home okay. They could either do this covertly or overtly, it was up to Margaret.[/ul]

[megan]

Batgirl's comment about a tab seems to be taken more seriously than she probably intended, because it causes Margaret to pause, consider for a moment, and finally say, "Maybe." In the grand scheme of things for Margaret, the help that she'd given to Batgirl that night when she saw her bleeding in front of the cafe was actually rather incidental. She'd known that there wasn't likely to be much risk to her involved, and so she didn't need to trust Batgirl to offer that.

Not that she distrusts Batgirl - it's more that she doesn't trust her nearly as much as she trusts Batman, and even with him she's very sparing in the amount of help she's willing to provide. It's true that Margaret winds up learning a lot of information that a lot of other people wouldn't get - the things that Gotham's criminals are willing to say in front of her because they think she doesn't talk! But by the same token, only a small portion of that information is something that she can repeat because the leak could all too easily be traced back to her. And if word got out that she'd talked, even once, someone would kill her. It had taken Batman time to build enough trust with her to get her to the point where she speaks more freely to him than anyone.

This alleyway is only of particular importance to Margaret because it's the one she has to walk through - twice a day, everyday. And this isn't the first time someone's tried to mug her here, and doubts it will be the last - it just has too many good hiding places, she looks just as harmless as she is, and she closes her cafe so late that it seems almost inevitable to her.

At Batgirl's offer she nods and says, "You're going to follow me anyway, so you might as well walk with me." And without further ado she turns to start walking, her slow steps indicating just how tired she is. She may be used to spending all day every day on her feet, but that's not as easy as it used to be.

[k]

[/b] Babs asked, walking along with the woman. She stole another glance back at the unconscious mugger, and then back at the woman. Perhaps it was too much of a personal question, but she knew things about the woman that made her more vunerable than the information about how long she'd been in East Gotham.[/ul]

[megan]

Margaret isn't actually as much of a private person as she seems to be. It's just that keeping quiet about everything has become a habit of sorts, there really isn't much to her personal life anymore - not since her children left, and so much of her past is tainted by painful undertones that she doesn't like to think about it much, let alone talk about it.

But Batgirl's question is perfectly acceptable, so Margaret answers, "My whole life. I was born in Gotham - grew up not too far from here. I've never lived any place else." And indeed, Margaret has seen a lot, having been in east Gotham for so long. Then again, it's a bit different now than it was while she was young - better. She's never thought much about why she never left, even after the area really started to go downhill. But she simply got caught in a rut, and instead of fighting her way out of it, she adapted.

"What about yourself?" she asks curiously, just as if she was talking to anyone else. It takes a bit of gall to ask a costumed vigilante a personal question, given the reason for the costume, but Margaret isn't shy about much and she figures that unless the answer to that question is particularly unique then there isn't any reason to not answer it. And Batgirl could always refuse to answer if she doesn't want to.

[k]

[/b] Babs said, realizing there probably a part of her that shouldn't be imparting this information on Margaret. It wasn't that she didn't trust her, but simply because it would make it easier for someone to deduce her real identity through it. However, she somehow felt like she ought to give Margaret a fair amount of trust. There was a question though - if she readily gave information to Batman, did she also feed it to the crime lords running around Gotham? Did she work as an inbetween officer of information? "Why have you never moved, Margaret? East Gotham... it's not what it used to be. It's not safe," Babs said. Then again, why didn't everyone move? Time? Money? Family? There were a million different reasons why Margaret probably chose to stay where she did. "I guess it's home," she added, almost answering her own question.[/ul]

[megan]

As Margaret walks, she seems to be lost in thought. A part of it is because she knows the route back to her tiny apartment like the back of her hand, while another is the fact that she's in the company of Batgirl - a highly effective deterrent to anyone making her the victim of another small crime, and at the very least an early warning to a larger one. Though another part of it is that Batgirl's questions stir up so many different memories and emotions, though so many of them are so far in the past that she can look at most of it with dispassion.

Nodding to Batgirl's answer, Margaret comments, "But not to this part of Gotham." Obviously a statement, and not a question. The woman is instinctively too observant about people for her own good. But, curiosity appeased, she turns her attention to Batgirl's next question. "Home? That's a part of it. Another part was money - I had to raise three kids on the money from that cafe by myself," she replies.

"But there was something else too - ever heard the one about how you cook a live frog?" she adds, casting Batgirl a glance as she asks the question, but she continues without giving a chance for a response, "You put it in a pot of cold water, and then heat the water slowly enough that the frog doesn't notice." Which is probably a rather deep observation to make about oneself, but Margaret is hardly immune to being a victim of her talent for understanding people.

[k]

[/i] look at Margaret, who seemed to be lost in her own deep thoughts. She listened to what she said though, and nodded in response to her statement about not having moved to East Gotham. Babs had been raised in South Gotham, the inbetween of the upperclass and the lowerclass, full of dirty and occasionally crime-ridden streets, but nothing too rife. Her uncle had taken her in after her parents death, and she'd grown used to calling him dad. She almost forgot Jim Gordon wasn't her father at all.

Babs listened to the woman's phrase about the frog, and she thought of the truth behind it all. It certainly struck true, and she thought of how one fell in too deep with something without even realizing it. Her work as Batgirl and how much it controlled her life had never quite struck her as massive until recently, when she began to realize her 'career' was dwalfing her actual social life, of which there was rarely anything left of. Margaret's analogy wasn't just applicable to growing up and living in Gotham.

"Sometimes I feel we perhaps turn away from something due to the rejection of change," Babs said simply, glancing at Margaret again. She knew this was at the very least true for her, she was getting better with dealing with changes as she grew older, but it was never an enjoyable experience when you were so set in the yours. Deciding to lighten the talk, she decided to enquire about Margaret's children - she had, after all guessed rightly about her being a mother. "Do your children live in Gotham?" she asked.[/ul]

[megan]

"Mmm," Margaret says in agreement to Batgirl's statement. That probably describes her very well for the past several years. Change used to be so easy for Margaret - or at least it seemed to be at the time. But gradually she found that each of her life's efforts came to nothing, or nearly so. What's really changed in her life in the past twenty-five years or so? Surprisingly little. Of course many things happened in between, but somehow she found herself right back where she began. The pot's just gotten hotter, that's all.

Unfortunately, the topic that Batgirl switches to is hardly 'lighter'. And yet, Margaret feels a certain need to answer that question - perhaps because the young woman just rescued her from being mugged and maybe worse. If that doesn't earn the answer to a question like that, then what does? "I don't know," she replies, "I have no idea where they're at. Five years ago me and my oldest got in a fight. We both said things that we shouldn't've, and he left, and he never came back again. My other son, though, is with him. Calls me sometimes and tells me they're doing fine. Even visits me once in a long while. Never tells me where they are or what they're doing - only that they're fine. And my daughter... well, she disappeared about two years ago and nobody's seen her since. All I know is that she... wasn't doing good things." What's most remarkable as Margaret explains all of this is the fact that she tells it with the same dispassion that she treats nearly everything else. The only real effect that telling the story seems to have on her is that she becomes very quiet when she's finished - the only sound that of her shoes on the concrete sidewalk.

[k]

[/b] she said, after a moment of silence. She knew there was nothing to apologise for - none of it was her fault. She hoped that Margaret saw that it wasn't her fault either - her children had minds of their own, and leaving was their own choice, and wasn't a result of Margaret. She hoped that she wasn't shouldering the blame on herself. Family was such a tough thing, a sore spot for both of them, it appeared, though Babs didn't impart this information onto Margaret. The less she knew about Babs' family the less likely she would be able to match her details to someone in the city. How many teenage redhead girls were running about the city anyway? She had the downfall of such a unmissable hair colour.

She thought about Margaret's girl and what had happened, wondering where she was now and whether she was okay. She hoped so, for Margaret's sake. She couldn't even begin to fathom the pain that Margaret must go through, wondering whether her children were safe. Babs felt bad having brought the topic up, and she wished Margaret had refused to answer.
"That was really rude of me, I'm sorry," she added again. "How far are we from where you live, Margaret?" Babs asked, just looking for a topic change, though she knew it wasn't something either of them would be able to brush off now.[/ul]

[megan]

Does Margaret blame herself? That depends on the day. On the one hand, she recognizes that her children all have their own free will, so what they do isn't exactly her fault. But then, she's the one who raised them; she should have taught them better. Of course, they were growing up in east Gotham - a much worse east Gotham than the one she grew up in - and that taught them other things. But she never moved the family somewhere better. Of course they didn't have the money. But even so she could have figured something out. But like she'd said, she hadn't really noticed how bad things had gotten until it was too late.

The first 'sorry' gets a quiet nod - she recognizes the statement as a simple expression of empathy, and not really an apology. But the second one prompts Margaret to say: "Don't apologize: If I didn't want to tell you, I wouldn't have told you." This is a woman who knows how to keep secrets, after all. "You're a vigilante, which means that you want to fix this place," she says, though there's a certain amount of skepticism that indicates how unsure she is that it's possible, but she continues, "You can't fix something ya don't understand - keep it in mind that there are a lot more like me around here than there are criminals, and you'll understand it better." Not that she'd hold herself up as the poster child for east Gotham or anything, but she knows that she makes for a good case study because there are echos of her own life all over the place.

"I'm just over here," Margaret answers her question with a vague gesture to the next apartment building on the left. It's not unlike the woman who lives in it: old, worn-out, but still standing and not in any immediate danger of falling apart.