(Edited with Grammarly on 4/2/2026)
"Do ya wanna order, hun?"
An older, more tired but still warm voice shook him from his stupor. Eyes blinking rapidly, the teen tried to reorient himself as he hastily raked over the colorful menu for what felt like the thousandth time.
"Uh, yeah," Albert's gaze flicked over to one item in particular, stomach growling as he couldn't help but imagine himself biting into the monstrosity before him. "I'll have the double-stack wake and bake burger, with an order of fries and a vanilla milkshake."
"How do ya want that burger done?" The tired-looking woman, dressed in a wrinkled and faded blue and green waitress uniform, flickered a loose strand of brown hair that slipped out of the impossible tight bun sitting firmly at the crown of her head, before scribbling down in a tiny notebook with such practiced ease that he honestly wasn't sure if she was fully conscious of the motion.
"Medium-well, please."
"I should warn ya." She leaned closer, dropping her voice low to a barely audible conspiratory whisper. The scent of cheap cigarette smoke, sweat, and long-faded perfume washed over him in waves. From this close up, he could easily see the harsh lines etched into her forehead and at the corner of her mouth. Probably someone used to smiling a whole lot. "We got a greenhorn chef back there on the grill and if ya want to risk getting a still mooing cow, I ain't stopping ya..but if I were you, I would wait to Ol'Pete is back before getting anything that requires more effort than dropping shit in the fryer."
"That boy ain't that bad!" Another voice, this one more gruff and grizzled. Like they'd just gotten done chewing a whole box of nails and used straight motor oil to wash it all down. Near the front, sitting on one of those backless stools, was an older man appearing to be around his early to mid forties. Those cloudy orbs turned from her to him, a youthful cajoling smile on full display. "He really ain't, just gotta get his groove going."
"Then why don't you have a burger? I'll even fully comp it just for ya."
"No, no…" That smile slipped from his face, skin growing a few shades paler as he waved his hands around frantically. "I can't do that to you guys, I'm on a new diet. No red meat, doctor's orders...You know how it goes."
"Uh-huh." She smirked warmly at the man as he turned away from the pair and dove headfirst back into his unfolded newspaper with a newfound intensity before circling back in on Albert. "So what do you say?"
"I'll just have basket fries and a vanilla shake."
If he was being warned both verbally and non-verbally by both the staff and regulars, then yeah, he was for sure going to avoid this place's grill like the plague.
"Good choice, hun." Her calloused hands scribbled at a relaxed pace, a small smile settling in. "Would that be all for ya?"
"There will probably be some more people joining me here soon." He gazed over her shoulder at the slowly ticking clock hanging just beside a boxy television. It was a useless action, he knew. He'd already been sitting here like an idiot for almost twenty minutes, his own fault. Call it the jitters or anxiety, but the clawing feeling attacking his chest made him just want to get up from there and just disappear into the night.
"Whatever ya say, hun." She kindly nodded, sounding all too much like his mother in that moment. That same consolatory tone often used when no one shows up to a child's birthday party, as if he were surrounded by cheap pizza, flashing arcade games, and those stupid cones atop his head. "We'll have your food out in a bit...I'll make sure they drop a fresh patch."
"Thank you."
With her shuffling away, he turned his attention away from the quiet interior. Looking outside the massive window beside him, watching the early evening of Gotham slowly slip away. The sky had gone from that bright blue-ish gray color to an orange hue. Mixing with the natural smog to create a sort of translucent film. Vehicles of all makes and models teetered along. Slowly but surely inching closer to their destination, the occasional honks or passing insults were barely anything more than muffled background noise.
Movement caught his attention, beyond just the natural evening crowd, of bodies pressed in tightly as they scurried back home after a long day's work. From across the street, down a building or two, a flicker of something stood out clearly even in this chaos. Maybe it was the evening sky or the flickering street lights kicking on, or perhaps it could've been intentional on their part.
From the alley-mouth, a set of glowing orange orbs hovered high off the ground. Even from this far away, it was clear they were taller than him by at least a head or two. And just as their gazes clashed, they seemed to curve into near slits before blinking once and slipping deeper into the darkness.
'Guess she's nearby.'
As if called, the bell over the door popped open with bells jingling, and looking over, he saw someone familiar. Appearing to be around his age, she stood not too much shorter than he was. With short-cropped, black hair and a tanned complexion similar to their first meeting. Wearing an oversized leather jacket and a pair of inky black, torn-up jeans, she looked every bit the stereotype of a graveyard wanderer.
"Hey." He waved at the girl, feeling some tightness well up in his throat, but he fought through it enough to try putting on a friendly smile. "New jacket? Nice."
"It's old." Marceline simply nodded and almost appeared hesitant as she took the seat opposite him. She was stiff as a board, shoulders so tight that it was impossible to hide even in that too-large jacket. "Just been too hot to wear it."
"Yeah," Albert looked down at his own trench coat, a stalling tactic he knew. Just another ploy to not face his problems directly. He felt like such a goddamn coward. "The weather's been getting pretty chilly lately, now I won't look-never mind that. How are you doing?"
"Pretty well, I would say." She replied with faux nonchalance, a flicker of something warmer in her eyes as they scanned over his frame with a frown. "A-lot better than you, you look like shit."
"Yeah," It was why he'd been so obsessively avoiding his reflection since yesterday, to the point where he'd even begun covering all his mirrors with duct tape and old newspapers. He really, really didn't look the best right now. "I've just been-no, this isn't about me. Would you like to order something? I could probably get her-"
"I'm fine." She waved him off stiffly. "I already ate."
"Oh-uh okay." He could keep stalling, could keep filling the awkward silence between them with meaningless small-talk, just fall back onto his old habits. And he almost did, but thought better of it. "Well, then I'll get right to it. I'm sorry."
At his words, she stiffened even further. Eyes darting around out the window and towards the nearest exits. Honestly, she looked ready to bolt at any given time.
"I mean," Words jumbled together, tying themselves into knots as he warred internally with himself. Panic welled up within him, and suddenly, the urge to hop from his seat to flee from this confrontation was starting to become too strong. But he forced himself forward. "I haven't been the best friend lately. I left you out to dry and shut you out. And even beyond that, I haven't really been treating you like an actual friend. Never reaching out except when I needed something and just dipping out on plans with barely even a moment's notice. I actually think this is the first we've actually spoken since the soiree."
He noticed her left eye twitch at his last statement, but still just decided to bulldoze through.
"So yeah, one of my other friends pointed this out to me, and it's only right that you and everyone receive an apology for the way I've been acting, for being such a terrible friend."
Albert could feel the excuses pile up underneath his tongue, explanations to push his behavior aside as something out of character, but that's not how real reconciliation worked. A relationship could never begin to mend with excuses and explanations. He could explain everything, load up the table full of his woes, and maybe that would work. But it would be like slapping a cheap Band-Aid on a six-inch laceration.
Only useful in deluding himself into believing he felt or was getting better. It wouldn't solve this fracture in their relationship, nor would it heal hurt feelings.
So, swallowing back that forked tongue that wanted to release a deluge of words threatening to spill out, he eeked out one final sentence. Trying not to sound pathetic or come across as manipulative.
"I'm sorry...for everything."
He tried to muster up the courage to look up, but it seemed his spine wasn't quite as strong as he wanted it to be, and could only gaze down at his twiddling fingers. Forcing himself to pretend like he had gotten lost in them, pretending as if the silence between wasn't becoming so thick and deafening.
He'd expected a lot of things: to be yelled at, to have a finger pointed in his face, or even to just have her get up and leave. But what he didn't expect was for her to ask a question.
"You're serious? Like this isn't some ploy to get me to drop my guard? So you could get me somewhere to disappear me? Or did you feel like a strange obligation to be my friend because I got you into magic or something? Because I can tell you, you don't need to feel obligated about that."
"I am genuinely apologizing, not for any scheme or anything like that. I don't have any other plans beyond this point."
At his response, she let out an audible sigh of relief. Sinking back into her booth, the tension flowed from her shoulders like rain against a steep cliff-face. Even that stone-cold expression melted away, and before anything more than that moment to allow herself to take in the moment, she reached into her jacket and held up a brightly lit phone to her ear.
"We're good." The girl let out a small grin, coming back around to her usual goofy self. "False alarm...Yeah, just give us a few minutes, and you all can come in...Yeah, this place smells amazing, see you guys."
With that, she slipped the device back into her pocket and turned her full attention back to him.
"Sorry," Marceline really did sound sheepish, snatching up a nearby menu to begin perusing. "I wasn't sure if you'd called me out here to snatch me up or something. I know, I know, it wasn't right to think the worst, and I don't think you're the type of person to do something like that, but...I've been wrong before. And with how our previous conversation went, I wasn't going to take any chances."
'Last time?'
No matter how he turned through his memories, their last interaction hadn't been anything groundbreaking or anything. Especially not something that warranted this sudden bout of caution. But with her here, there really wasn't a negative reason to at least ask.
"Could you remind me?" Albert quickly continued as he saw a lone eyebrow poke out above the propped-up menu. "I've been having some...memory issues lately."
"I wasn't going to go into any details, didn't want to drag up the past...but since you asked, I can do that. As long as you're not going to try to act as if I was talking to one of your alter egos or a shape-shifter wearing your face or something like that. Well, to explain, you had called me down to the park, and I had thought you wanted to tell me what happened between you and Lin. Or at least your side of the story. But color me surprised when I got there, you looked like a hot mess, wearing these musty clothes and smelling as if you hadn't bathed in days. You had this massive folder just filled to the brim. Newspaper clipping primarily from the last year, and you went on, and on about this case you were on. You wouldn't go into detail, but you pushed like three obituaries in my face and almost demanded that I find some way to contact their echos. Well, I obviously told you no, and you tried to twist things. You know, I tried to go about the situation at a different angle to make it seem like you would be doing me a favor, how it could increase my own power, or some nonsense like that. Honestly, if I hadn't heard the same horseshit coming out of Constantine's mouth, I probably would've at least thought about it. But, you sounded way too much like that conman, and when I told you no once more, then you tried to guilt-trip me into doing it. That's when I called it quits and left, but just as I was leaving, you screamed out behind some villain monologue. Like: 'You will rue this day!' Or 'Is this how you treat me after all I've done for you!' Or 'You owe me!' so, yeah, when you ghosted us, I had kinda figured that you wanted to cut all ties with us or were planning something."
As she continued her rendition of those events, he sank further and further into his booth. Face warring with burning bright red at the rising levels of embarrassment bombarding him from all sides, to paling an unnatural hue in horror at his incredibly manipulative actions. If this was truly how he'd acted...then yeah, it made perfect sense why she'd only come here with back-up.
"I'm sorry."
He rubbed his face with both hands vigorously as he resisted the urge to groan out loud. He could see what he was attempting to accomplish, reaching out to the dead spirits of those human traffickers to figure out exactly where Jacqueline went off to.
"You already apologized, man." She looked over at him once before dropping her gaze back to renew her search through the menu. "It's fine, I could tell you weren't really in the right state of mind then and now...you're at least doing a better job at hiding it. We're straight, don't worry about it. Really. Besides, I knew that look way too well...You had a pretty rough case? Probably involving a child?"
"How…?"
Looking through his fragmented and foggy memories, he couldn't really remember a time when he'd told anyone besides Malcolm and Russel about his recent case. It had been far too dark for him to involve anyone else who wasn't already involved in the seedier parts of Gotham.
"Well, you know, there's a reason why I don't go to the dead for answers." Marceline set the menu down and looked him dead in the eyes. A sad but resolved expression morphs into place. "When I had first gotten started in this...business? Career? I don't know. It's just like a calling for me...but you probably feel that too, right? Anyway, I had been traveling through some smaller towns, asking the locals some stupid tourist questions. You know, if there were any haunted areas nearby, and this older lady pointed me to this abandoned property. An old, run-down shack, but when I stepped in there, I could feel something almost immediately. Down in the basement, there wasn't some monster or serial killer waiting for me...just a little girl. She was a small thing, huddled up in the far corner, and wouldn't even look at me until I brought out my Ouji board. I-I was younger then, a lot less experienced, so I took a lot of inspiration from old exorcism movies. Riled her right up with a bunch of questions, asked her name, asked her how old she was, and even asked what her life was like. I didn't get any answers, so I pushed for more and more, trying to force a ghost to speak when she obviously just wanted to be left alone."
"It wasn't until I prodded her about her parents that she reacted. And, I took that opening. Stupidly." Here she looked off to the side, breaking their showdown, and just watched the city continue. "I had been increasingly interested in what happened to the dead once they left this place. I...I had been hunting for answers to see if there was any way to call upon my grandmother. So, I asked her about things no living person should know...I asked her about the afterlife. Tried to use her to point me in the right direction...Albert, that was my darkest moment. I had been willing to drag up painful memories of a dead little girl just at the chance to achieve my goal, and when I didn't get the answer I wanted, I tried to forcibly exorcise her. Using a beginner ritual, I tried to force her to move on...and who would've guessed it didn't work? She pushed me away, literally. With so much force that I nearly thought she broke my spine when my back slammed against those rickety stairs. And you know what I did next after riling an echo that far? I ran like a goddamn coward. Ran away when she 'cried' out to me to stay, ran when she begged me not to leave her alone in the dark. That she would be a 'good girl' if I just left the light on. But I was a coward, Albert. I had done wrong and just left her there, fleeing to the next state over just to escape."
"No matter how I tried to forget about her, even a year later, it stuck with me. So much so that I felt myself indelibly tied back to that town. But I had learned a lot in that year, grown as a person, and acquired some perspective. Returning, I didn't go in with holy water, a bible, salt, or even a crucifix. Just my old backpack, and when I got there, I only realized the chaos I caused. You know, Albert, do you know why it was so important that we got Marian Gran to move on? Don't answer that, I'll just tell you. She was close to being able to interact with the physical world; a couple more years, and she would've become a poltergeist. Something that only further increased the 'debt' imposed on those who moved on. And this little girl had turned into one and given a full year to accumulate."
"When I took a step into that basement, there was no way back. And when I saw her again…let's just say sometimes being able to see the dead is truly a curse. She'd grown more coherent and vindictive, lashing out at me and even threw me against the wall a few times. I didn't resist, just let her get out all her frustrations on me because in my own head, I knew I deserved this and more. She only stopped when she tore apart my backpack and let loose everything inside. Crawling over to one, I took a battery-powered lamp and turned it on. Shuffled a few kids' books into a large pile, fluffed up a pillow, and set down a blanket. Before setting down a stuffed bear just out of her reach."
"That night, Albert," She looked at him then, sadness permeating her every word. Memories flickering past her glassy eyes as if she was back in that basement once more. "I tucked her in, read her bedtime stories for hours...but most importantly of them all, I stayed with her in the dark. Didn't move from my spot for hours. Cranking the lamp myself when those crappy batteries were about ready to die out. And when the sun rose, she could finally move on. This is what she left me."
Marceline reached into her shirt and pulled out a simple twine ring on a chain. A work of poor craftsmanship, but somehow, it stayed in one piece. Looking at it, he couldn't help but compare it to those crappy macaroni owls or turkeys he was forced to make as a child.
"This Specter Piece doesn't do much." She fiddled with it for just a moment before sliding it back into place. Rubbing at the corner of her eye, the girl looked away. "In the dark, it's warm. Not just physically, but like that feeling you get when you have a comforting presence near you when you're asleep or alone somewhere. Do you know what that means? It means that even in death, that little girl never wanted anyone to ever feel cold or alone."
"Obviously, I looked into her history. Took me months, but I finally found the monsters that made their own daughter go through something like that...they'd been dead for decades. Leaving not even a specter behind. Do you know what that means? Those bastards lived a full and healthy life with not even enough regret or clinging attachments to this world to stay. People like that, who abused and murdered their own daughter, spent their entire lives never facing the consequences of their actions, and just got to move on from this world before their victim. That...that's not fair. In no world is that just or anything...but what could I do? All I could do was make sure this little girl was properly put to rest."
"It took me years later to find out why she turned into a poltergeist so fast...do you know why?"
"No."
He shook his head slowly; all this ghost business was well outside his wheelhouse. Other than a few bits of lore that imp tittered into his ear, nothing came to mind other than how to forcibly exorcise such a spirit.
"Connections. Spirits or Echoes don't usually have any power over the physical world; this changes when they begin forming connections or links in this world. Time spent in the location of their death, and when people continue to reach out to them. Seeking them out or communicating with them all this creates a link. Chaining them further down in this world, making it harder for them to move on, but granting them the ability to interact with the living in turn."
'And seeking out these human traffickers would've formed a connection between them and her...or me.' With this explanation, he felt even worse about how he'd acted. Foggy memories or not, that had still been him. Still, he's been pushing a line his friend didn't want to cross.
"Look at me, Albert." He did as he was bidden, locking gazes with the medium. A small but sad smile on her face. "I...I went to some pretty dark places to uncover her mystery. To find out who her parents were and where they were. And by doing so, I burnt a lot of bridges. I didn't know how bad it was until I found myself all alone at the end of it. So, when I saw you in that frantic state, I knew. We're similar, you and I. We both possess this calling, colleagues even. Both deal in some of the worst people to walk this Earth...and as someone further along this path than you, take this advice and never let it go."
She grabbed her hands suddenly, a clawing, desperate grip that made his bones crunch uncomfortably. Hiding his wince, he held on bated breath. Taking everything in.
"This path we walk, it's going to suck. We're going to crash and burn, face some of the worst humanity has to offer, and still be expected to come back for more. But, no matter what happens, we can't afford to be an island. What we know...it'll eat us up inside. Find people, people who genuinely love and care about you. Attach yourself to their hip, and never let anything ever shake you off. Stand by them in their darkest hour, and if they're real friends, they'll do the same for you. You can depend on us. On me, Lin, Michael, and Steve. We'll be there, you just need to ask."
'What did I do to deserve friends like these?'
Their gazes clashed for a moment, and Albert could easily see the truth in those orbs. Her words resonated so heavily with him, striking home at a problem from his old life and even falling in line with what Harley was saying.
"Thank you."
"No problem!" Marceline quickly dropped his hands, snatching up the menu once more to sift through the same couple of items while chewing on her bottom lip. "But don't get the wrong idea, none of that was romantic or anything. Strictly platonic, if you couldn't tell: I like gals more than guys."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Albert chuckled softly.
"I would feel insulted, but you're kinda a ghoul right now...What's good here? Oh, and I hope you got money, I told them you would cover them when they got here."
He couldn't help but smile stiffly as the bell rang once more and a total of three teenagers came bursting through the door, looking ready to go to war. Their heads turned every which way as they scanned the dinner, and when their stare finally landed on the two of them, the trio collectively slumped their shoulders in unison before storming over.