Upward Spiral [ Babs ]

[jimmyg]

Mom was out of town for a few days, visiting a friend back in Illinois that she'd known since childhood due to them having some sort of family crisis or something like that. This left Jim in charge of the kids while she was away; or mostly, Jimmy. Considering Babs didn't even live with them anymore. But of course, Jim worked long hours, and there were days that he couldn't make the trip down to the south side of town to pick Jimmy up from school. Most of the time he was fine with walking, but he'd been instructed not to do so by his mother before she left. Not that he really had to listen to her since she was, in fact, gone.. but he saw no real reason not to.

He waited on the steps of the high school, sitting and slouched over a bit with a book in his hand; a novel, actually. Stephen King's Bag of Bones. He'd been a fan of King for some time, reading the stories when he was holed up in his room with nothing better to do but read-- which was a great majority of the time. Today, he was aware that his dad wasn't going to be able to pick him up. Instead, the duty fell on his sister. He wasn't aware of whether or not she had work to do today, but she probably did. The family was always so busy with their external activities, he wondered how his dad was able to keep up with the 'family man' image. Then again, he didn't really care.

Sitting on the steps, Jimmy felt uncomfortable. It was cold, but he had his jacket on. It wasn't the weather that made him feel uncomfortable, but the presence of others. There were so many students at the school, and a lot of them liked to linger around as well. At the moment he had no choice in the matter, he had to wait out front for Barbara to come by, despite the fact that there was a group of kids his age almost directly in front of him murmuring taunts under their breath about him.

Occasionally, he would glance up and give them the briefest of glares, but for the most part he just ignores them. He's too absorbed in his book to pay much attention to them, and too smart to actually let much of it bother him at the moment. The day went by fast. He'll get to see his sister who he hasn't seen in a few days. He doesn't have much homework. All in all, he's actually in a relatively decent mood; good news for Barbara, when she arrives.

[b]

Barbara strutted down the street with spring in her step. There was something extremely energizing about taking a sick day without being sick, bleeding, broken, unconscious, or crazy. It was a good day, Barb thought to herself, smiling at people on the street like some kind of loon. The trees were gold, the air was cool and brisk, the sun had very nearly to shine through Gotham’s fog—definitely a good day. Barbara swung her grocery bag happily, humming a dopey pop song to some dancing movie Babs couldn’t remember the name of all the way to Gotham Public High School. Even the grim look of that old building couldn’t shake Barbara’s spirits. She quickly spotted Jimmy sitting on the stairs, with his nose stuck in a book no less, and hustled towards him.

As she approached, Babs caught snippets of a conversation between a group of kids not far from where Jim was sitting. They were saying things like ‘freak’ and ‘nerd’ and ‘I heard that’, it wasn’t until Barbara heard one of the kids say “Is his dad really the Police Commissioner?” that she understood who they were talking about. Barb stopped in her tracks, smile completely gone. So these were the kids giving her little brother trouble, huh? The whole reason Jimmy was so withdrawn was so he wouldn’t have to deal with brats like them, couldn’t they just let him be? Barbara walked forward slowly, wearing her scariest librarian face, and headed straight toward the middle of the group. They kept talking until Barbara was right behind them. A few gave her weird looks, but most of them ignored her. Babs threaded her arm through the plastic bag’s handles and pushed the sleeves of her jacket above her elbows.

Without another moment’s consideration, Barbara had twisted the arm of one of the more talkative boys behind his back. He yelped out in surprise and pain. There was a lot of name calling and threats, but Barbara had gotten pretty good at her icy glare so most of the idiots just backed off and let their friend suffer. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to talk about people behind their backs?” Barbara asked sarcastically. She pulled the boy’s arm harder and he started to whimper. “Oh, wait. I know,” she snapped her fingers with her free hand. “Mommy and Daddy wanted their little Boobykins to grow to be an ass.”

The kid started apologizing and Barb leaned forward over his shoulder. “What? Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“I’M SORRY!” the kid moaned.

His fat face was red and sticky with tears. Honestly, what were parents doing to let their kids grow up like this? Barbara knew Jimmy wasn’t perfect, in fact he could be a right little freak at times, but at least he wasn’t a big looser like this kid. Barbara let go of the kids arm and he and his gang shuffled off to go sniff glue or whatever was killing their brain cells. “Next time it happens,” Barbara said cheerfully, “you’ll be hanging from the flag pole by your Tighty Whities.”

Barb shook her head after them and looked over at Jim with a shrug. She hoped he wasn’t going to get all angsty and melodramatic on her now about how she’d ruined his life, but it was hard to with guys. They were all so moody! Jim was generally a pretty cool kid, but when it came to his relationships—or lack thereof—he could get rather touchy. Oh well, Barbara though, beaming at him. I’m armed and dangerous, so if he wants to pull out the sour routine he better start now. She pulled her sleeves back down and hopped in front of him.

“Good thing you’ve got that hiding your face,” Babs teased, gesturing at the book. “Or I wouldn’t have recognized you. What are you reading anyway?” she asked, bending down to read the cover. “Yheu…” Barbara grimaced. “King, really? You must’ve joined a cult or something because no one can read King the way you do. Take a break, broaden your horizons.” Barbara grinned, opening her purse and pulling out a book, happy she’d thought to bring it with her. “Try this one on for size,” Babs said, practically dropping the book in Jimmy’s lap.

It was called I Am Not a Serial Killer and was about a 15-year-old boy convinced that he was going to, well, become a serial killer and in order NOT to do so, creates a very strict set of rules for himself to follow. Very appropriate, she thought. Of course there was the whole bit about him catching a real live serial killer, which was why it was a thriller and not just a YA fiction book. Anyway, Babs thought Jimmy would like it and he needed something to get him away from King’s warped mind. If anyone’s imagination didn’t need help, it was Barbara’s little brother’s.

“And the fun doesn’t stop there, Jimbo!” she announced grandly, shaking her grocery bag in his face. “Waarrrheeeaads!” she sang happily, taunting him with the bag some more. “And I’ve got all my “Thin Man” DVDs so we’re set.” Barbara paused, pretending to look thoughtful. “You don’t need real food, do you, baby brother?”

Babs winked and yanked Jimmy off the stairs. “Up-you-go!” She took the books from him and stuffed them in her bag so he only had to worry about his backpack. “You’ve got all your stuff right? I don’t really expect you to do any homework tonight…but you know…just in case dad asks…” When Barbara was in high school, 90% of her homework she finished in class, and even though Jimmy didn’t have a photographic memory, he was still just as smart as she was (okay, maybe not that smart, but he’d barely hit puberty!) so freshman work couldn’t be too difficult. Besides, it was more important for Jim to laugh than get good grades. Mom was already reading psychology books, next it was going to be sessions with the shrink and no teenager needs that to cope with, especially Jimmy who was a lot more sensitive than he’d admit.

“All set?” she asked finally. “Let’s hit the road, Jack!” she said turning back toward the street. “So, was I pretty cool back there?” she asked eagerly as they left school grounds.

[jimmyg]

The Gordon siblings were probably thought of by most as complete opposites. Jimmy was quiet, subtle, and withdrawn. Barbara on the other hand was quite loud, sometimes brash, and a complete extrovert. Yet somehow, the two of them were actually a lot alike. Outwardly it was hard to notice, but they both got along with each other decently. They didn't clash like people probably thought they would, but more or less reflected nicely off each other when they were granted time to spend togheter. Jimmy enjoyed spending time with Babs. Since she'd moved out he hadn't been totally cut off from her, but it was kind of weird getting used to her not being there all the time anymore. As if there was somewhat of a hole in his life without his sister at home. It wasn't even as if he got the attention he craved with her gone, considering his mother seemed to be on his case mostly about his mental state lately, and dad was always working. So really, there was no benefit to her being gone.

The kids in front of him continued to poke fun at him as he read his book, and he could hear them. He heard what they said, glanced up to get a look at who was saying it and logged the information away for a later day. For now, he wouldn't do anything. Continuing to ignore them led to more taunting along the lines of him being 'too scared' to do anything about it, but he simply leaned back where he sat and flipped the page of his book. Sometimes, retaliation was needed. Today, right now wasn't one of those times. Verbal taunting, he could take. He didn't like it, but he'd gotten used to it. It was when the bullies tried to pick real fights with him that Jimmy ever really fought back out of necessity. This school year, thankfully, he hadn't been in any school yard tussle. He'd only ever come home one time with a busted lip and a bruise around his eye, and the bully had about the same.

A sudden flash of red hair and the voice that came out of nowhere along with it signalled his sister's arrival. She didn't approach him at first, but rather went directly toward the kids who were talking about him. His hazel eyes lifted from the words on the pages in front of him and rested on Barbara and the other kids for a moment, but decided instead of paying attention to what she was doing, to curl up a bit more where he was sitting; literally. He hunched forward slightly and brought his knees up, resting his book on his knees and holding it steady. He didn't care what she did to the kids, but he also felt slightly embarassed. This was his sister standing up for him. Sure, she was older than him. Sure, she could be intimidating. But he could see those same kids going after him for being protected by a girl next. Even though thinking over it for a minute, that was one of those things that was also easy to ignore.

Flipping the page of his book, he glanced over once again as the larger kid, the one doing most of the taunting, was brought to tears due to his sister's grip on his arm. A very tiny smirk appeared on his lips as the kid waddled away with his group, going back quickly to reading his book as if nothing had happened as Barbara cast off another threat in their direction. In truth he did appreciate the gesture, really. But if she expected a 'thank you', then she really would have been away from Jimmy too long.

As Barbara's attention finally shifted over to him, Jimmy kept his face hidden behind his book despite her apparent disapproval, giving little more than a shrug in response. He was nearly finished with a chapter, and figured he could tune her out until he finished up with the last paragraph or so. "He's a good writer." Jimmy said, defending the author that he'd grown so accustomed to over the summer. He'd read most of the more popular King books during that time, but he didn't necessarily have a favorite. He liked all of them. This one was odd, but interesting enough to continue on with it.

The sound of his sister opening up her purse and the words 'broaden your horizons' caught his attention, and he looked over at her, bringing the book down and folding the corner of the page, shutting it as he set it down on the pavement steps. The book that she'd pulled out looked interesting, and the bold red title splashed across the page definitely caught his attention.

Jimmy had always been rather fascinated with slightly morbid things. Always an innocent curiosity brought on by what could be considered a psychological problem if certain professionals looked into it. It's why he wasn't allowed to have small animals as pets anymore; his curiosity got the best of him. Not to mention dad's career, police work. Dad investigated things like homocides all the time, and it only made Jimmy more interested in the subject. In fact, he was relatively certain even now that he wanted to enter some kind of investigative field. Regardless, his interest in homocide cases, forensics, that sort of thing, had grown over the summer as well. His mother took noted interest in it, and he was sure she would definitely not approve of this new book.

Their mother wasn't here now though, and a small smile cracked across his features. Usually he would try to hide it, but he couldn't. Barbara got him. He didn't have many friends. Barbara was first and foremost his sister, but also probably the closest one of his nature could have to a best friend. Picking the book up, Jimmy examined the cover and flipped it over to read the summary on the back quietly, before glancing back over at Barbara as she pulled out even more treats from her bag. Warheads; he loved those. He hadn't had any in a while due to the craving simply not being there, but if there was a bag of them? There wouldn't be by the end of the weekend. Finally, Barbara brought her set of Thin Man DVDs with her.

Despite sometimes wishing his mother trusted him more to be by himself for longer periods of time-- he was fourteen, for crying out loud, he had no objections to having Barbara stick around with him.

Just as he was about to speak up, Babs yanked him up and took his books from him, to which he briefly narrowed his eyes but otherwise just leaned over and put his backpack on over his shoulders, shaking his head. "Thanks for all the stuff." He said quietly, timidly almost. As if it was somewhat awkward being in Babs' company after however long it'd been since they last saw each other. "I've only got a little bit of math homework, but it's easy anyway." He said, and reached into his pocket to make sure his key to the house hadn't fallen out of it's place.

After he was all set, he gave a nod and walked at Babs' side quietly until she asked another question; which admittedly, was right after he caught up to her. "I guess so." He said with another little shrug, and let out a short sigh. The length of the day settling in on Jimmy, who had a feeling he was going to want to take a spot on the couch and lay down watching those Thin Man DVDs for a while after they got back home. "..Thanks." He said again, though not specifying whether it was for all the little gifts, or for taking care of the bully problem to begin with, or possibly even both.

[b]

None of the other Gordons really knew the full extent of Jimmy’s bullying, and none of them really knew what to do except to protect him. The Commissioner was never bullied, neither were Mom or Barbara, so everything they did fell back on primal instincts. Babs watched her brother carefully and hoped Jim wasn’t too focused on what those jerks said earlier, but it was so hard to tell with him. Like Dad, Jimmy kept most things to himself, and even though Barbara was pretty good at guessing what both of them wanted or needed, she couldn’t read minds. Babs smiled warmly and did her best to turn her little brother’s attention to happier things and started rambling on about the remote-controlled mouse one of the other librarians had found in the book and how she and “the girls” had spent a good part of an hour chasing it down until Barbara decided to go looking for the kid with the remote. Turned out it was Fanny’s sons—not a good thing to be that day.

Babs snorted and rolled her eyes at Jimmy’s defense of his fellow creeper. She could see the appeal in the mystery and heinous circumstances, but Barbara had a vague idea Jim and Stephen got some other sick pleasure out of those stories. Boys and their gore… she thought condescendingly. Disgusting was the only word for it; but, she supposed, if someone’s got a thing for it, there’s no changing it, just the direction. That’s why Babs had gotten the thriller for Jimmy, it had just the right amount of humor and heart to actually make a decent piece of literature—and all the morbid details of a teenage sociopath to entertain him.

She watched with a mixture of anxiety and excitement as Jimmy turned the book over in his hands. She watched as his face revealed a peak of interest while reading the back cover. Yes, Barbara thought happily, mentally fist-pumping the air. She couldn’t be 100% certain he was really going to read it, though. “Well,” Barb prodded hopefully, “what do you think?”

It was good to see Jim take pleasure in something, but there was something a little off about their interaction so far—and it wasn’t her. Babs cast the boy a sideways glance to make sure she’d heard him correctly. A ‘thank you’ was rare enough for Jimmy and the way he said it—not even looking at her—troubled Barbara. It wasn’t anything specific, but that’s when it struck Barbara that she and Jimmy had barely had any time just for them in the last couple months. In fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time they actually hung out, just the two of them. Part of it was due to her new address and certain extra-curricular activities. Part of it was because it just hadn’t occurred to her, hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Babs looked guiltily at Jim out of there corner of her eye and quickly turned away. Did that make her a bad person? It wasn’t like Jim was some random step-brother, either. Strictly speaking, they were cousins; and Barbara liked to think they had something more than DNA and legal documents between them. There were things about both of them the other could never understand, but there were other things, important things that only Jim could relate to. Sometimes Barbara feared she didn’t really know who he was at all, but most of the time Babs felt like she just got him. And he got her. It wasn’t something that could easily be put in words, and maybe it was just genetics, but there had to be something said for good companionship. Talking to Jim wasn’t like talking to friends, or Dad, or even Dick. Even though he had secrets, even though she had hers, when they got together he just was. No angles, no games, no pretenses. Just being. So it would really suck if she turned out to be the worst sister in the world.

“What’s with the bashfulness?” she joked softly. “Don’t blush, I’ll get embarrassed.” It was just like this. Barbara could be snarky and sarcastic and tease him to his heart’s content and it wasn’t that Jim understood she was just joking, it wasn’t that he knew ‘the meaning behind the words’ because there wasn’t anything to be understood. She asked a serious question and expected a serious answer—you know, beneath all the wisecracks.

Jimmy explained he only had a little bit of math and didn’t seem too worried about it so Barbara just nodded. “Sounds good, Fido. So does that mean you’re not going to ditch me in the middle of a scene,” she asked, half joking, half serious. “Because I can’t be held responsible for my reaction if you do,” she informed him. “Fair warning.” Barbara ruffled his hair and picked up her pace. It was getting dark and cold, and Babs wanted to get home before sunset.

Barbara was contemplating the all-important pepperoni or cheese or both debate in her head when she heard another muttered thanks behind her. Babs turned her head and gave him an affectionate smile before screwing her face into her best imitation of Clark’s noble humility. “No thanks necessary,” she said in a deep voice. “I am Barbranator, protector of the playground and keeper of lunch money,” Barbara put her hands on her hips. “Saving people is in the job description.” She flipped her hair and flashed Jimmy a large smile. “Now you may bask in my awesomeness—“

Babs laughed and gave her brother a sideways hug. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, giving him a nudge. “Now,” she announced solemnly. “Pepperoni or cheese?”

[jimmyg]

It was true that no member of his family really understood what it was like to be bullied, especially not to the extent that he was. He heard stories about his dad's run ins with fellow cops back in Chicago, but even then, dad was able to protect himself. Jimmy simply wasn't very strong. He never really cared for many sports and was definitely the brainy type. Luckily for him though, only a handful of fights had ever really gotten to the physical point throughout his life. Mostly kids of corrupt cops or thugs that his dad was responsible for putting away. Just another reason why he really hated being a Gordon sometimes.

The story about the remote controlled mouse and the other shenanigans that went on at the library that Barbara worked at were, for the most part, in one ear and out the other. Jimmy listened to her quietly and nodded when appropriate, but he had nothing to offer in way of conversation to the tale. He wasn't there, he didn't really know the others that she worked with; he went to the library often but mostly dealt with Babs when she was there.

At the question presented as to what he thought of the book he was given, Jimmy gave a short nod and allowed another small grin to crack his features. "It looks interesting." He said, but knowing Barbara, he was certain she'd want more of a response than that. "Did you find it at the library or something?" He inquired, curious to know where exactly she even heard of a book like that. He certainly never had, and with how much he read and looked into more books like the ones he enjoyed, he wondered why he hadn't stumbled across it. Basically, the book was made for him. His sister really did know him all too well.

Had Jimmy known that she hadn't thought much about visiting him, he probably would've been far more quiet. Though he wouldn't outwardly admit it, he missed her at home. It felt as if he was an only child again, and not in the sense that he would've liked. Had dad been home more often and if their mother wasn't so insistant that he was having some sort of behavioral or personality issue, maybe it would be different. But it wasn't. He was bored, and oddly enough with a personality like his, sort of lonely. Yet another reason he seemed so withdrawn lately. It'd been a while since the two of them had any time together, and in that time apart, some awkwardness had formed.

Keeping his eyes mostly on the ground or directly in front of them as they walked back home, Jimmy didn't happen to notice the somewhat guilty look that she cast down at him. Even if he did, he probably wouldn't have addressed it. Instead though, he did glance up at her more or less calling out how awkward he was acting. Maybe not even so much awkward as much as shy, which was only somewhat uncharacteristic for him when he was around his older sibling.

"What?" He asked, giving another shrug and mumbling a little bit to himself. "Nothing, I was just thinking." He said a bit more clearly, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket and going quiet again. He did have some things on his mind. Mostly what those kids from before were saying about him. Not that he was realy dwelling on it, but he needed to remember exactly what they said for his own personal reasons. Reasons that Barbara definitely wasn't going to hear about any time soon. Or any member of his family, flr that matter.

At the ruffle of his hair, Jimmy again grinned just enough to show that he was in fact in a decent mood, but took a few steps to the side to avoid too much rustling. It was already pretty shaggy; he was probably due for a hair cut in a few weeks to make sure it wasn't going to get in his eyes and obscure his vision even worse than it already was. Something he could thank his father for was his poor sense of vision. "No, I'll probably do it Sunday night or something." He said, taking his place back at Barbara's side after he was certain the threat of more hair ruffling was gone.

Keeping his eyes on her for a minute, he rose a brow and stared up at the Barbranator comment, but rolled his eyes, still with the same grin as before softening his expression.

Just as he was about to speak up again though, she reached over and gave him a hug. Normally he'd be uncomfortable and back away from such an expression, but again, he was in a decent mood. Instead of hugging her back, he simply leaned into the hug a little bit; hardly enough to even constitute an affectionate response but, well. It was Jimmy. "Umm.." He thought about the option for a moment, considering for a moment. "Pepperoni I guess." Was his answer, even though he wasn't really hungry at the moment.

"How long are you staying for?" He asked rather out of the blue, looking up at her and even going so far as to making eye contact; very brief though it might have been. "..Mom's supposed to be gone for the weekend and dad's probably going to be on call as usual." It wasn't like he couldn't stay at the house by himself, if it were up to him. But having to choose between staying home alone and with Barbara, he'd rather have her around.

[b]

Jimmy liked it. Barbara’s face brightened, having done something right towards her brother for a change. According to Mom, Barb’s “encouragement”, as she called it, only made things worse for Jim and his “special needs”. Um, what? Babs hadn’t ended a conversation with her mom on a cordial note since Jimmy started high school. She knew that he was getting more crap about it—whatever “it” was supposed to be—than she was, but maybe with a ‘Barbara gave it to me’ her phone will ring and the two could actually have in intelligent discussion. “Thought you might find it interesting,” Babs mused with a grin.“Ordered it online, actually; the library didn’t have it.” She shifted the bag on her shoulder so it wouldn’t pull on her hair so much. She should’ve brought a ponytail. “It showed up on my ‘Suggested Books’ on Amazon—I let Joann use my account to buy four seasons of Dexter (Honestly, what is it with you people and blood?)—and I thought of you,” she explained and grinned superiorly. “I did good, huh?”

Barb shot her brother a disbelieving look. “Just thinking, uh-huh…” she nodded, tongue sticking in her cheek. He obviously was thinking about something, but she had a feeling that wasn’t why he was acting so weird. The Gordons, however, were not known for their articulate conversations about feelings, and the two kids being no exceptions, Barbara preferred to just let it lie. Still feeling bad about winning The-Worst-Sister-Of-The-Year award, however, she thought it necessary to add, “You know not to let those kids, get to you, right Jimmy?” She was sure he did, but fourteen was rough for any kid, even the popular ones who finish early and get National Merit honors. Jim couldn’t be expected to be perfect all the time and he needed to be reminded every so often that “They’re just a bunch of idiots with the IQ of Dad’s waffles.” Babs was, of course, referring to the half-uncooked, half-burned waffles the Commissioner tried to make whenever he had a case of the Father Flu, in which workaholic men remember that they have families and attempt to over-compensate not being there by disrupting perfectly fine routines to prove that they care.

The condition was undoubtedly hereditary, or else Barbara wouldn’t be letting her brother save his homework till last minute. That was a parent’s job, Babs mused, and as the beautiful, talented, clever, much older sister, she should be allowed to spoil Jimmy rotten every once in a while without having to fear the consequences—you know, just in case he forgot how much she adored him amidst the whole ‘not calling’ thing. The sun was starting to set. Barbara checked her watch, they’d be able to make it home in plenty of time before curfew, but Babs knew the Feds had a bone to pick with anyone out after dark. Honestly, what they thought a teenage boy and barely-twenty-something girl could accomplish, she didn’t know…then again… Barb couldn’t help but smile at the irony of that statement. “Come along, Jimbo,” she called, prodding him along with her elbow. “Let’s pick up the pace.” It was best they didn’t have any unnecessary run-in’s, no matter what her current attire.

Barbara stuck her tongue out and elbowed him again. “Oh, come on,” she grinned, enjoying satire. “I’d make a great superhero!” She stuck her fist in the air. “Can’t you imagine it? Stopping villains in their tracks with my nerve-rattling ‘Shh!’” Babs pressed a finger to her lips and gave Jimmy her most over-exaggerated impression of a mean librarian. “I could make quick getaways by blowing dust off big volumes in the back. Barbara laughed at the idea, picturing herself as ‘The Librarian’ instead of Batgirl—kicking cyber-ass over the interwebs. Netizens, BEWARE. “Hee hee hee,” Babs snickered giddily, ignoring the weird looks she was getting by the passerby’s. They just couldn’t appreciate farce.

The street lamps were on by the time they reached West Houston Street. Barbara tossed her hair over her shoulder and adjusted her purse again. She slowed down and looked over at Jimmy. “Do you want to go get the pizza or order in?” With the new curfew and FBI regulations, Mario’s 24-hour Pizza Pie anymore (which was reason enough in itself for them to go back to their desk jobs), but if they walked the few extra blocks to get the pizza themselves, they’d have to eat it right away or else reheat it in the oven, but that took away the joy of eating it straight out of the box on Mom’s sofa. “And you’re not allowed to say ‘doesn’t matter’ because that’s lame and we’re not starting the night of with a lame ‘doesn’t matter’ attitude.” It would only be a downward spiral from there into a dark, bottomless pit of noncommittal responses and boring small talk; an abyss of nothing but dispassionate indifference staring back!

Barbara was still pondering the question when Jimmy’s small voice slipped its way into her thoughts. She whirled around to look at him, hiding her surprise and the wrenching pain in her chest. She met his eyes just as he looked away. Oh, god, I’m an ass, she thought. Babs resisted the urge to wrap him in her arms and kiss him, but she still needed him to know that she understood that he was reaching out to her and that she desperately wanted to reach back, even though she didn’t quite know how to without scaring him off. “I-uh…” Barbara choked. She cleared her throat. “How long do you want me to stay?” she asked quietly, walking slowly, not daring to look back at Jimmy just in case the knot in her throat decided to stage a full-force attack. She’d been planning on going back to Wayne Manor after the weekend was over to be with Dick while he recovered, but as she walked next to her little brother she wondered if her priorities hadn’t gotten seriously screwed up in the last few months.

Babs didn’t use the word ‘real’ to describe her relationships; even though she was related to the Gordon’s by blood and they legally adopted her, they weren’t her birth parents, and when it came down to it, both were very much ‘real’ to her. Then there was Dick, Bruce, Alfred, and even Jason now, did that mean they weren’t ‘real’? It couldn’t, but each family was so very different neither could be in the same place—even in her head—without compromising either of them. So what was she supposed to do? Barbara was an expert at juggling her time, but how could she schedule all the attention and affection due Jimmy around her responsibilities as Batgirl, not to mention the guys themselves? They weren’t just a team; they were a family, just as real and immediate as the one Barbara grew up in. Babs wished they’d put that in the vigilante brochures. She knew that Bruce—though the name itself was part of a façade he put on to protect his ‘true’ identity—handled both his lives splendidly, but Barbara always felt like he had so much less invested than she did in his ‘real’ life. His only family was dead or dressed up in tights and a mask too; Barb still had school, friends, a Dad, a Mom, a baby brother. Forsaking all others… Babs thought bitterly. Funny how a schoolgirl’s fantasies come back to haunt her later.

They walked in silence for a long time until they were in front of the house. “So how’s about it, little man?” Barbara announced, trying to sound normal. “Ready for a crazy night of murder-filled fun?” Babs managed an encouraging smile. “I have a feeling a certain ex-detective and his witty wife are going to show us the town tonight.”

[jimmyg]

To say that Jimmy 'liked' his gift was a vast understatement. Of course, he wasn't about to go around flailing like a child who'd just received the gift that he'd been wanting all year long for christmas or something like that. Such excitement simply wasn't in the boy's nature. But for those who knew him well enough; his sister included, it was easy to tell that he was more than very pleased with the book. Way more than he'd let on. "Oh." Is his response as to where exactly she'd found the novel at. And at the mention of the Dexter series, he perked up as well. He'd only seen clips of a few episodes that'd been aired on television that his mother had quickly flipped past. The series looked interesting though, and he personally wouldn't have minded if Babs had any interest in that show either, maybe bring those DVDs over to watch the next time she came over. "Thanks?" He added in after a brief second's pause; a show about a serial killer reminded her of him? ..Neat.

There was then a brief silence as Jimmy looked about his surroundings, mostly at the streetlights coming on. There weren't many more days left in the year, winter would be coming soon. It got darker earlier and his curfew was already earlier than others due to the fact that he was a minor. Though being with Babs and therefore under the supervision of an 'adult;' though honestly he never really considered his sister an 'adult' with the way she acted-- no fault to her, he preferred her almost childish nature over the typical arrogant pomp that most adults seemed to have over people his age.

After this brief glance around, he turned his head to look back up at Barbara and nodded quickly. "I know, I don't." He said, the the bit about not letting what the bullies said to him, get to him. Again, a crooked grin formed. Probably a record, considering he hadn't even had much to say, let alone grin about since her last visit. "That's not fair. Even dad's waffles are better than that." Speaking of which, he hadn't been made a victim of dad's cooking in a while. Probably a good thing. Though at the same time he kind of missed it. Dad tried so hard, but he would always be a failure when it came to trying to cook a meal, regardless of what time of day it was. Actually, dad didn't seem to have been suffering from the so called Father Flu. Not in a while. The thought made Jimmy sigh quietly through his nose so as to not draw attention to it. The FBI in Gotham were only making things worse. Not necessarily from a protective standpoint. In fact, in that sense he had no idea how they were faring, and frankly he didn't care. All he knew was that the longer they were here, the longer dad was away at work, and the longer he had to spend his evenings with mom. He wanted the FBI gone as soon as possible, needless to say.

Adjusting his backpack on his shoulders, he noticed Barbara checking her watch and glanced up accordingly. He would've asked what time it was, but figured it really didn't matter anyway. Instead, he perked up slightly when she called him by the nickname that only she and dad ever bothered to call him, and followed along at the quicker pace that she set after she apparently noted that they were perhaps dangerously close to being at the tail end of the curfew set in place by said FBI. A stupid rule, even if he really had no reason to be out of the house after school anyway. Oh, the wonders of not being interested in any outside of school activities. No, he could instead wander home and hold up in his room until the next morning, to sit at his desk and do his homework to the best of his abilities and yet still not be as noted for his intellect as Barbara was. A bitter thought, but it was true. Easily, he could've passed into at least junior year of high school by now. Instead though, he would be forced to trudge through all four years or until someone actually noticed him for a change.

Any and all bitter, jealousy driven thoughts he had aimed at Barbara fluttered away as soon as she spoke up again. Which frankly wasn't very long after she'd last said anything. "Well. People would be afraid of you at least." He said, offering at least a bit of encouragement to Barbara's superhero daydreams. "The power of 'shh' probably wouldn't work very good on most villains though. You might have to settle for quoting really bad books until they surrender. Either that or have the power to summon big reference books to throw at them." Afterward, Jimmy's grin grew into that of a smile. A legitimate smile. If Barbara had any sense at all and wished to receive any form of praise from their mother, she would tell her all about making Jimmy smile.

When they finally approached their street, West Houston to which thei house was at the very end of the way, Jimmy noted Babs' slowing down, and followed suit. "Umm.." He began, and shrugged shortly after. "It doesn't--" Though of course, just as he was about to give the typical 'it doesn't matter' answer, he was cut short by a rule that negated his choice. Lowering his head and looking over his glasses at his sister with a jokingly frustrated sort of look, he fiddled with the keys in his jacket pocket and finally made a decision. "I guess having it delivered would be fine, ..if that's okay?" Delivery did cost a bit more and it wasn't as if he had any money to pitch in. But really, he was quite tired. He did want to go inside and crash.

His question about how long she was staying had still gone unanswered, and he was considering asking her again but at the same time was content to let the question slide. He didn't want to bother her. Which then in turn led to a bunch more of his own more dreary thoughts. Was that how his family saw him? A bother? At times he would've felt inclined to believe this, but at the same time he was certain it wasn't true. Especially not when he was in as good a mood as he was in today. If he was really a bother, Babs wouldn't be showering him with gifts in order just to keep an eye on him for the weekend. His dad wouldn't bother to come up to his room when he got back late at night to make sure his son got his homework finished. And as much as he hated to admit it, his mother wouldn't be so concerned about his mental health. In fact, he was probably cared about too much at times.

"I don't know.." Jimmy began, looking down at the ground again since in a way, he was slightly embarassed at the question to begin with. Siblings were supposed to fight and dislike each other and not want to be in each other's company. The Gordon siblings were the opposite. "As long as you want, I guess?" Though in truth the answer really meant, 'until you absolutely have to leave' most likely.

He could tell that the question had been an awkward one, so after his rather awkward way of answering, he too contributed to the silence. Until once more, Barbara broke said silence with another question. One that drew his eyes from the ground and up to directly in front of his field of vision. They were at the house finally, and as if on cue Jimmy meandered up the stairs and pulled the set of keys from his pocket, holding them up so he could tell which one was which, and unlocked the two sets of locks at a non-rushed pace, opening the door quietly. "Sounds good to me." He said quietly, entering the house with a yawn as he took off his bag, tossing it over to the floor on his left just before the stairs that led up to his and what used to be Barbara's room. He took his shoes off but left his jacket on as he made his way to the large, plush couch situated in the middle of the living room and rather gracefully collapsed onto said couch, grabbing a pillow from the pile in the center and pulling it over his face, crossing his arms over it. Clearly, he was a bit exhausted.

[b]

Barb caught the look of interest on Jimmy’s face and rolled her eyes, wishing she had bit her tongue. All Barbara Kean Gordon needed to find was a collection of blood, guts, and gore filling up the entertainment center at home. “Don’t look so eager, Jimbo,” she teased dryly. “Someone might get the wrong idea—” Babs gave her little brother a loving shove.

“Besides, it wasn’t worth the price Joann bought it for. Boring, really. Neat idea, really bad execution. I mean, really, how bad does a director have to be for series about a VIGILANTE SERIAL KILLER to be boring?” Barbara shook her head. Pathetic, really. To say her life was more exciting than television was sad in itself. Where was the glamour, the drama, the excitement? Babs shook her head in distaste, finished with the topic forever. A bad TV series was best forgotten. Such disgraceful examples of theatrical productions were not to be borne, especially" when something more exciting awaited. “You’re welcome,” Babs replied to Jimmy automatically, too focused on the night’s festivities to notice the look on the boy’s face; which might have been a good thing, as the discussion that might have followed would have been uncomfortable for both.

Right, good. Barbara knew Jimmy was a tough cookie. It was a Gordon trait. Glad to be done with her sisterly duties, Babs returned Jim’s grin. “You’re right. I can’t believe I was so disrespectful. Next time Dad makes breakfast, I’ll apologize." Her voice was so solemn that anyone who might have overhead would probably take her seriously, but this sort of sarcastic monologue was old hat for Barbara and Jimmy. She could think of several examples when a whole meal was spent taking a crack at something-or-other. Babs shot him an affectionate look. Dare she say she missed this kid? Probably not out loud, but it was easy enough to admit to herself. Despite how much Barb detested the FBI, at that moment she supposed they had their uses; even if spending time with her kid brother was the only one she could think of, it certainly was something.

There probably should’ve been more hesitation to continue the superhero tête á tête, but Barbara was truly curious to hear what Jimmy thought. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she turned a suspicious eye on him. Was he joking? She couldn’t really tell. And what was the joke about? That she wasn’t scary? That she wasn’t? Or maybe he thought she was a complete nutcase… Babs frowned in annoyance. Little brothers…HA! What were they really good for anyway? Her agitation faded as quickly as it came, however at Jimmy’s joke and—no, it couldn’t be—was he smiling? Barb scrunched her nose and gave him a huge smile. She was sorely tempted to wrap her arms around him and give him a big hug, but thought better of it and didn’t acknowledge it any further than commenting on his suggestion.

She mimed thinking it over seriously. “You know, those reference books could do some pretty bad damage. Carol—you know Carol, I use to you and her son when she and mom did trivia night—anyway, she was shelving reference books and of them fell and she reached out to catch it—it was on the top shelf—and nearly broke her arm! Maybe I could have them placed strategically around the place so they can fall on goons’ heads during convenient plot twists as a chandelier replacement.” Barbara grinned, imagining rigging something like that up. It sounded like a plan straight out of Scooby Doo. What would Bruce say to something like that? Babs laughed and hurried her brother along.

She nodded. “Delivery it is.” Barbara mentally calculated how much everything would cost. I may have to use credit, she realized with some irritation. Babs didn’t have that much cash in her wallet, certainly not to the extent Dick and Bruce did. She didn’t have a play-boy millionaire façade to maintain—not that she could even if she wanted to. With a sigh Barb reluctantly admitted to herself (something that was becoming an all-too-frequent occurrence) that pride really wasn’t something a girl should flaunt so much when she had a boyfriend with cash to burn. Then she cringed with disgust, thinking an eighteen-year-old shouldn’t have that much freedom at his fingertips. Though, I really don’t have a right to be chastising Bruce’s parenting decisions… It was still rather a sore subject for Babs that Dick was barely legal. And it wasn’t like her thoughts were all innocent up until he hit that mark.

Shaking her head, and telling herself to focus, Barbara asked Jimmy, “So how m’I gonna pay for this, mister? Have a job yet or is mom still keeping you locked in your ivory tower?” This probably wasn’t the best way to phrase the question, but Barbara had never been known for her delicacy and tact. She knew he was only fourteen, but Barb thought a paper route or something would be better for Jimmy than sitting in his room all the time. Sitting alone with nothing to do could drive someone crazy—Barbara had firsthand experience—and it wasn’t like they could get him a pet. Just some responsibility would be healthy. And once again, Babs had to remind herself to keep away from parenting advice.

Of course, Dick Grayson couldn’t stay out of her thoughts for too long and Jimmy’s noncommittal answer wasn’t helping things. “Sure you won’t get bored of me?” she joked to cover up her hesitation. “I might start to like having someone make all my meals for me. Then you might not be able to kick me out again.” Barbara couldn’t bring herself to answer seriously. Not yet. She didn’t even know the answer, if she were being perfectly honest. On one hand, she did miss Jimmy’s company and knew she ought to be there for him more often than she was. On the other, Dick was still going to need a lot of help even if he was on the road to recover. Not to mention the more selfish reasons Babs wanted to be around her new housemate.

Thankfully Jimmy was non-too-eager to discuss the length of her stay as well—probably because he feared the answer just as much (if not more) than Barbara did herself—and quickly conceded to her plan for the evening. As the boy ran upstairs, Barb tossed her things onto a chair just inside her old home. Everything was too unchanged. Too familiar. It was like she’d never left, and Barbara felt some indignation at the thought her absence had gone unnoticed. Of course, Jim had noticed, but he was more perceptive than most people, and a whole lot more sensitive than he’d ever like to admit; but that nothing had changed, that Babs could move on with her life and return after such a long absence without so much as the batting of an eyelid made everything she’d done, everything she’d been through seem so insignificant. Just standing inside the door Barbara could feel that old rebellious feeling seeping back under her skin. A little shocked at her reaction, she wondered silently when this house had become so suffocating.

Babs did her best to shake off any of her negative feelings as Jimmy’s footsteps sounded overhead. She hurried over to the living room where the old phone hung on the wall. It still had a cord attaching itself to the wall. Barbara could remember all the annoyance she felt towards that simple fact when she was trying to have a private conversation. She smiled and picked it up, dialing by memory the number of the best pizza place in town. She placed the order almost immediately and the girl on the other end rattled off a list of everything anyone could possibly want. Barbara thought for a minute before yelling, “HEY JIMMY, DO YOU WANT BREADSTICKS?”

[jimmyg]

Truth be told, Jimmy had wanted to watch a bit of the series as soon as he'd heard about it. For multiple reasons. It was a show about the sort of career he was thinking he would like to get into, but with an added bonus of also being a series about a serial killer, which he had always found interesting. Though honestly, most people thought of serial killers as interesting. If they didn't, there wouldn't be as many books, movies, and television shows about them. His interest, he felt, didn't make him any less normal than anyone else. So with a slight furrowing of his brows at the insinuation from Barbara, he gave a shrug, and said nothing more about the show.

He fell quiet then, lost in his own thoughts for yet another few moments with those words still ringing in his head. 'Someone might get the wrong idea.' Words not very unlike those of his mother's, who was constantly on his case regarding his interests in the books he read. How it wasn't healthy for him to only read things like that. His mother literally thought something was wrong with him, psychologically speaking. Maybe Barbara did too. Maybe she just had a better way of hiding it. The thought had him sliding the pillow away from his face, resting his chin on the cushion and narrowing his eyes at her the tiniest bit while she was focused on something else, not looking at him. And he glared at her in this way until she looked back over at him, to which he quickly pulled the pillow back over his face and missed the affectionate look she'd offered him.

"Yeah, well. ..I wouldn't expect that any time soon." Was his response to the comment about Dad making breakfast. It was a sore spot for him, since the boy truly did love his father very much and wanted to be able to spend more time with him. Dad's job was demanding enough as it was, and the FBI being in town only made his hours longer, and he hated them for it. Whatever little time he'd had to spend with the man was now cut drastically, even more than usual. And in his naive misunderstanding of the demands of the job, he partly blamed his father for it. A resentful feeling that he couldn't shake, no matter how hard he tried. Dad didn't have to be gone so much, he chose to be. He offered to be, even. The thought resulted in a heaving of his chest, a long drawn out sigh that could easily be mistaken as just an exhausted breath from an exhausted boy.

Again, the pillow was pulled beneath his chin and he rested that way as Barbara questioned another one of his comments, to which he glanced over and pushed up his glasses a bit, as they began to fall down the bridge of his nose. They always were a bit too big. "Um. I don't know. I didn't mean anything by it?" He replied quietly, having lost a good deal of his spark after the comment about his interest in that particular television series. He tried not to let it bug him, since he knew it would just result in more questioning, or more picking fun at his expense. But he couldn't help it. The boy, as much as he would hate to admit it, was sensitive. Especially to comments concerning the way he thought, whether it was right or wrong, and what others would think of him.

It was best then, he thought, to stay quiet. Jimmy had always been quiet, even before his accidents with the pets and before his own mother questioned his way of thinking. It was just in his nature to be more the observing type rather than the talkative type, and he'd been told that it was a trait that he'd learned from his father. Jim was the silent type, and so was his boy. He listened to the story of Carol and the fallen reference book, but didn't crack a grin or a smile this time. Instead, he turned to face the ceiling again and pushed himself to a more cozy corner of the couch, clinging to the pillow that he held against his chest and kept in place with his chin. It wasn't that he wasn't paying attention; he'd heard every word. It's just that he didn't have anything to say in return.

Only the briefest glance was spared her way after that, a short one, just to make sure that she was still there or something of the sort. Something about her, he could sense that she maybe didn't want to be there. That she was roped into babysitting again after all these years to watch a child who could easily look after himself. Of course he'd made these thoughts up, still focused on that one comment from before. How much it bothered him actually even surprised him, and he found himself batting around the question of whether she meant anything by it or not. His mood had taken a complete one eighty, and he didn't even feel hungry anymore. He felt anxious. There was a pit in his stomach and a sort of dizziness in his head that he couldn't quite place. Turning on his side to face the inside of the couch, away from his sister, Jimmy closed his eyes and focused a little bit on his breathing. Sometimes he had these little episodes where he thought too much, and found himself this nervous.

Barbara's voice broke the silence again shortly thereafter, and he chucked the pillow that he'd been clinging to in comfort since they'd gotten home over to the other side of the couch, and pushed himself up into the corner. His face probably looked a bit paler than it was when they were walking home, but he shook his head and brought a hand up to straighten out some of his hair that he could feel got messed up in his laying on the couch. "No, but I have a couple dollars if you need it." He said, his tone monotonous and lacking the happiness that it'd held earlier, to be able to spend time with Barbara.

He only forced a tiny, feigned grin at the comment of not being able to get rid of her again, as he knew it wasn't true. Barbara had her own life now, complete with her own place, a job, and a boyfriend that he personally didn't like at all. He'd met Dick a couple of times, and thought the guy was obnoxious. What his sister saw in him was frankly, beyond Jimmy. But his opinion was never asked and so he kept it to himself. He did however harbor a strong dislike for the Grayson guy, and thought it kind of amusing in his own way that Barbara probably wanted to be with Dick more than spending time with him. Amusing in the way that after a moment's thought, he didn't really care.

Sitting up now, Jimmy's features fell completely neutral. No expression was on his face, and had he been around someone who wasn't familiar with his, what some would call, 'moodiness', they might be slightly off put by it. But he sat there for a good few minutes until Barbara asked if he wanted breadsticks with the order of pizza, and thought it over for a minute. "No. Not unless you want them." He called out, not shouting like she was; he couldn't shout at the minute if he wanted to. He only raised his voice enough to be heard, and fell back into his neutral, almost vegetative state. Thinking more to himself about the comment, why she said it, what she meant by it, when she'd last talked to mom. He was quite paranoid by it, truthfully, and showed it by withdrawing completely into himself.