orca

 

 

 

 

Grace Balin lied still, crouched under the darkened overpass. The puttering sound of a helicopter approached in the distance. She remained motionless in the blackness as the spotlight flew right past her, slick black skin glistening in the rain. She swiveled her head slightly, glimpsing over her shoulder. It hadn't stopped, and there were no signs that the pilot was preparing to make another pass- it hadn't seen her. She turned back towards her destination; the place she had been here staring at for the better part of an hour, now. Lightning cracked, illuminating her for a moment as she winced her white, pupil-less eyes and bared her fangs in a grimace. The apartment building in front of her was almost entirely dim, not a single window still lit- save for the one, on the third floor. Of course, it was her target's apartment. Convenient. Worrying.

 

The marine biologist sighed, feeling her heart sink. Sure, she was a 7 foot tall whale mutant with increased strength and agility. Sure, she had fought The Batman without ending up in prison... Not yet, anyway. But this was different, though she couldn't find the words to explain why. She found it rather painful to attempt to.

 

She breathed deeply again, heavy chest rising. She could do this. She would just get in and out, and it would be over, just like that. She could disappear- at least until the manhunt was over. Gotham Police were rather unreliable like that, just like they hadn't thought to check the one street in the area with cut street lighting. A clawed fuse box sparked nearby. The Orca slowly brought herself to her feet, exhaling before breaking into a sprint, flipper-like feet splashing through various puddles and streams before she leapt, Powerful leg muscles contracting before sending her flying into the air.

 

Pudgy fingers slammed onto the edge of the second story, concrete cracking and crumbling under her fingers. The Whale quickly pulled herself up and pressed herself against the wall, beginning to shimmy in the direction of a staircase, until she noticed a tenant heading towards the window she was positioned in front of, curious about the noise. The disheveled man looked through the rain at the pitch-black street, scanning the area for a minute before shrugging it off and returning to his seat in bed. The Orca pulled herself back up onto the ledge and continued, stepping carefully onto the balcony before proceeding up the metal staircase through the stormy winds.

 

Dr. Balin slowly lifted the window pane, scanning the apartment anxiously for its sole tenant. She prayed he had simply left the lights on before leaving home- the police would likely want to question him, perhaps he was with them. Probably. Maybe. She hoped. She tentatively entered one foot at a time, taking care not to catch herself on the walls coming in. It was certainly a tight fit, but she managed to squeeze through. Barely.

 

The apartment appeared to be empty. Grace breathed a sigh of relief, and hunched over, wasting no time in beginning her rummaging. She sifted through all sorts of papers and trinkets- research papers, half-filled out forms, restaurant menus with personal favorites circled in sharpie, vacation brochures, with notes and “to-dos” listed on the side, the majority of which being aquatic activities, some clearly intended for two... She didn't like being here. It stirred up... Memories.

 

The Orca caught a glimmer out of the corner of her eye and jerked her head towards it; there it was, her target. What she'd been risking her hide to get, all this time. She slowly approached the target and extended a quivering hand towards it, grasping it shakily and lifting it to her face.

A picture. In it was a smiling woman. A short haired blonde, in a wheelchair. She was in front of one of the Gotham Aquarium's water tanks, various species of colorful fish could be seen swimming behind her. Posing next to her... Was a man, also smiling. Grace whimpered.

 

“Grace?”

 

Orca's heart stopped.

 

“Grace, is that you?” The masculine voice from behind her came again. The mutated woman slowly turned around, a sheepish expression on her face.

 

“...Hey, Honey.” Grace raised a hand in an anxious wave, her other hand clutching the picture tightly. Terry Balin just stared, an awkward silence suddenly permeating the room. Grace rubbed her free hand over the back of her head, her look changing to a pained one. “Where the hell have you been, Grace?” Her husband questioned, a look of confusion dominating his face. “Do you have any idea how worried I've been?” He slowly approached. “I've been watching the news; do you know how weird it is, having to root against the police? I mean, that thing with the helicopter- I mean it don't get me wrong, it was awesome. But Jesus Grace, I-” He stopped, face to face with the whale-woman. “...I'm just glad you're alright.” He admitted, a smile of relief finding his face. Grace blushed, lost for words.

 

Mr. Balin paused, sharing a stare with Grace before he calmly reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a cellphone. Grace's eyes widened, and she grabbed his arm as he flicked it open, dropping it. He yelped. “G-Grace, what are you- I'm calling an ambulance, you need help!” Grace frowned, and shook her head. “You know I can't do that, Terry. I'm a Wanted Woman- hell, I'm a supervillain now. I've got Batman after me.” She smiled sadly, releasing her vice grip on her husband's arm. “They'll lock me up with the likes of Killer Croc and Clayface before trying to help me. You should know that.” She folded her arms.

 

Terry held his now-sore arm, frustrated and confused. “Well, what are you going to do then, huh? Rob another-” He stopped himself, noticing the object in Grace's off-hand. He frowned deeply, abruptly calmed considerably. He looked back to Grace's eyes. “...So what are you going to do?” Grace seemed calmer to him, as well. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, I've got a plan. I'll have everything back to normal, soon enough. We can even go on that vacation we were planning!” She smiled. Terry stared at the ground, looking up after a moment's thought. “What kind of plan?” She waved her hand in front of him.“The kind I can't have you knowing when you're about to about to be interviewed by the Police. Just trust me on this, I'll be back soon.” Terry's frown disappeared.

 

As Grace made for the window, Terry spoke up again. “...Promise me.” Grace turned her head with an odd look, then nodded confidently. “I'll be back again soon, I promise. Without the fins.” Terry smiled sorrowfully at her, convinced. She began to leave again, putting a foot out into the rain, when she stopped. As abruptly as she could, she brought her foot back inside and lunged at Terry, wrapping her muscled arms around him and lifting him in a tight hug. She gave him a peck.

 

“I'll miss you.”

 

“Grace... PLEASE...”

 

She set the reddening man down where he was, and grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head again. “Sorry.” Grace slipped herself out through the window. Terry, dazed, stumbled to the windowsill, and muttered a “Wait-” before Grace leapt from the balcony. Terry climbed out himself and looked around frantically, but she was gone. His wife was gone.

 

Grace Balin laid down in the small sewer maintenance room she was calling her home for the night, curling up so the ragged blanket she had discovered would cover her monstrous form more adequately. She stared at the framed picture, propped up next to her. As she slowly drifted off, a single thought crossed her mind.

 

There was no plan.

 

The Orca Wept.