A/N: greetings, HUMANITY! :D I'm here with yes another story (i hope this one sticks with me... the others i've tried to write didn't work out so well in mah head).


Drew kicked the ball as hard as she could, still in the air, and her cleats made contact with the muddy ground as the ball flew past the goalie's frantic grasp. Her team cheered and she was high fived several times by her own team and those who were for the other team. She went over to the goalie she'd managed to get past and shook his hand.

"Good game?" she asked.

"Good game," he told her, smiling, turning away towards the crowd on the bleachers.

Dew also turned and grinned to see a very exhausted yet very smug Jason coming towards her, hands shoved into the pockets of his black jacket, a smirk on his face. Even though she was exhausted from running and kicking the ball so much, she ran the rest of the way to him and hugged him tightly.

"You didn't have to come, you know," she said, smiling.

"Of course I did," he said, even though they both knew he ought to be sleeping. "You were awesome."

"Sure, I'm only as awesome as the boy who saves the world every single day, one person at a time," she grinned.

"You'll be almost as awesome as me when you're not covered in mud," he said to the fifteen year old.

Drew scowled and looked down at herself. Her green soccer jersey, shorts, socks, and cleats were covered in mud. She wouldn't have been surprised if her face had some steaks or if her hair was matted: sometimes you just had to make a dive or six when you were goalie for half a game, playing soccer on a late Saturday afternoon.

Jason was the second adoptive son of Bruce Wayne. Bruce had a lot late night company meetings and often had Jason come with him; that was why he was so tired all the time.

Or, that was what he had Drew believe.

Jason's cell phone rang and he answered.

"Yeah? Oh, hi Bruce. Yeah...I'm on my way." With a sigh, he snapped his phone shut and put it back in his black jacket pocket. He smiled at Drew apologetically. "I got to go," he said, hugging her swiftly.

"Meeting?" she asked him.

"Meeting," he confirmed. He leaned forward, his dark hair hanging in his mischievous, brilliant green eyes. "I'll be back."

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise." He hugged her again, ruffled her hair, and walked away.

Drew never thought that would be the last time she would ever see Jason Todd.


Drew was sitting on the same bleachers in front of the same school that she had attended for the last four years of public education.

It had been five years.


She was remembering the soccer game, his face, his eyes, his promise.

She remembered his brother calling her one night and telling her he'd died in a bombing. She'd hung up as soon as those words had come over the line and had refused to speak to anyone about anything for a week.

Now here she was, five years later.

Drew stood up, shoving her hands into the pockets of her navy blue jacket, hunched her shoulders against the cool wind, and walked away from the school.

It only felt as if she'd received the news yesterday.

As she walked along, she passed a warehouse just as a woman dressed up nice and richly rushed out, knocking her over.

"Who're you?" the rich woman asked. She had dark hair and her eyes were narrowed.

Drew got to her feet, shaking her black hair out of her eyes. "Just walking home," she said.

"Sure," the woman said. "I'm sure you were just spying, too."

"You could only be thinking that if there was a need for someone to spy on you," Drew said, the smart-ass part of her attitude coming back to her after spending a few hours of just sitting, freezing her butt off, while filling her mind with thoughts from the past.

"Good observation," the woman said, "now, since I have no way of knowing what you're implying is true, you have to come with me."

"I have to?" Drew out her hands on hips. "Gosh, I didn't realize you had the right to tell me what to do. Oh, that's right: you don't."

Drew began walking away, but heard a thuggish voice from behind say, "if you want to leave, come with us."

Drew sighed. She was more annoyed than scared, which wasn't what any ordinary person would be feeling. She turned around to see a man pointing a gun at her. A shiver of fear trickled down her spine and she began feeling nervous.

Now she was scared.

She nodded and followed them inside the warehouse, and people sitting at a table all turned in their chairs to look at her.

"She snooping?" one of the nicely-dressed crooks asked.

"Nope," Drew said, "wrong place, wrong time."

She noticed a bag on the table and bullet holes. What had happened here? She craned her neck and nearly vomited at the gory sight within the bag. But she had a strong stomach when it came to violence and blood and guts.

"Smart-ass," one of them muttered.

"I'm pretty sure my ass isn't smart," Drew told him, and earned herself a few glares.

"What are we gonna do with this girl?" the woman asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Turn her into the new boss?" one of the more causually-dressed men suggested.

"I'm not some homework assignment," Drew said, frowning. "I want to go home. I don't care what you think: I only know what I know, and that's that."

"And what do you know?" the woman asked.

"Someone shot at you."

The woman nodded slowly. "We're not letting you go, though," she told her.

Drew sighed again. "I know, I know, you're going to kill me. If you are, just get it over with, okay?"

"We don't need a murder pinned on us," the woman said. "We're not killing you for only that reason."

"Good for me," Drew said, rolling her eyes. She wouldn't let them see how scared she was. It just didn't seem like an option.

"Now who's this?"

The whole room grew silent and Drew turned around to see someone looking down at her. She jumped back, startled. She hadn't even heard him come up behind her.

"We believe she was snooping," the woman said, the only one looking as if she wasn't scared.

Drew remembered hearing about this guy: he looked just how the people on the streets described him.

This was the Red Hood.

"Were you?" He asked her.

"Why don't you ask your buddies?" She said, her nervousness increasing by the second, but her fear was still buried deep.

"You got a name?" He asked her.

"Yes, but I really don't feel like giving it to you."

"Cooperate," the dark haired woman said, glaring. "And you'll leave this place alive and unharmed."

Drew swallowed, hard.

The Red Hood remained silent, waiting for her to speak.

The twenty year old ran a hand through her black hair, seeing no way out of this. "You going to kill me when I tell you?"

"Depends on who you are," the Red Hood said.

The girl took a tiny step back, showing the first signs of her fear that she had somehow managed to mask.

"Drew," she said, "Drew Isley."

The Red Hood tilted his head and remained silent for only a moment before saying, "let her go."


"Let her go."

The woman nodded and glared at Drew.

She took this chance to sprint out of the building and down the street, not looking back. She didn't know why the Red Hood had decided to let her go or if she should even care.

What Drew did know was that this probably wasn't the last time she was going to see him again.

She was right about that.

A/N: More of an intro than a chapter... oh well.

Thank ye for giving this a try :)