CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: A FRIEND, NOT LISA

Gotham was exhausting.

Not in the physical sense—Taylor had long since pushed past the point where fatigue could slow her down—but in the way the city worked. She had seen how crime functioned back in Brockton Bay: territory disputes, power struggles, gangs and villains carving up the streets like a carcass. It was brutal, but it made some sense.  

Gotham was worse. 

In just one night in the Narrows, she’d stopped four muggings, two attempted carjackings, and a gang fight that left a teenager bleeding out on the pavement. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. The city was a labyrinth of shifting alliances, betrayals, and new threats that seemed to spring up overnight. There was no endgame, no moment of peace. Taylor could take out three muggers one night, only to find a new crew filling the void the next day. It wasn’t just frustrating—it was wasteful.  

She clenched her fists, trying to suppress the mounting frustration. It wasn’t enough. She needed to be smarter. More tactical. And as much as she hated to admit it, that meant finding someone who knew Gotham’s criminal underworld better than she did.

She needed backup.

The thought made her grit her teeth. She’d spent so long fighting alone, defining herself by her independence, that reaching out felt like admitting failure. But Gotham wasn’t Brockton Bay. This wasn’t about gang wars or territory—it was an ecosystem of crime so deeply entrenched that even Batman, with all his resources and allies, could barely keep it in check.

She exhaled slowly. Fine. If she was going to do this, she needed someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Which meant one person came to mind.

. . . . .

Finding Spoiler wasn’t difficult.  

The vigilante in purple didn’t have the same training or discipline as the rest of Gotham’s costumed crowd. She wasn’t stealthy like Nightwing or Robin, and she certainly didn’t move with Batman’s experience. Instead, she relied on raw energy and stubbornness—bounding across rooftops, slipping up and nearly getting spotted before correcting herself at the last second.  

Taylor followed her for a few blocks, observing from a distance. The decision to approach still felt wrong, like something Lisa would have scoffed at and picked apart until Taylor admitted she was making a mistake.  

But Lisa wasn’t here.  

And Taylor wasn’t in Brockton Bay anymore.  

When Spoiler dropped into an alleyway, adjusting her hood as she checked something on her wrist-mounted device, Taylor took her chance. She stepped off the rooftop and landed behind her, boots scraping against the pavement.  

Spoiler tensed, spinning around—one hand already reaching for a gadget at her belt. Then she recognized Taylor and relaxed, though only slightly.  

“Well, well, well. Mystery girl returns.”  

Taylor kept her arms crossed. “You got a minute?”

Spoiler leaned against the wall, folding her arms in exaggerated mimicry. “That depends. Are you here to finally tell me your name, or are we still doing the whole ‘broody enigma’ thing?”

Taylor ignored the jab. “I want to make a deal.”

That got her attention. “Oh?”

“I have a target. Someone in Black Mask’s operation—one of his lieutenants. He’s moving something big, and I want to shut it down before it happens.”

Spoiler tilted her head, considering. “Which one?”

“From what I’ve heard, his name is Mark Richards. He’s ex-military, a mercenary. His tattoos aren’t just for show—they’re weapons. He’s overseeing a shipment tonight, and I want to know what.”

Spoiler made a low whistle. “Hoo boy. You do not start small, do you?”

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “You already knew.”

“Well, yeah.” Spoiler stretched, rolling her shoulders. “Oracle’s been keeping an eye on this for a few days. We weren’t sure which of Black Mask’s guys was handling it, but Tattooed Man?” She exhaled sharply. “That’s bad news. He’s not just some thug—he thinks like a soldier. And his powers? They make him damn near untouchable.”

That was new information. Taylor had read about Mark, but she hadn’t seen him in action beyond what’d heard and seen in recordings.

Which meant Spoiler had an information source.

Taylor kept her tone neutral. “Oracle.”

Spoiler nodded. “Redhead, real smart, knows everything. You’d like her.” She glanced at Taylor’s rigid stance and her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, hinting at amusement. “Ohhh, wait. You think I’m gonna tell on you?”

Taylor didn’t answer.

Spoiler snorted. “Relax, Ghost. If I was gonna rat you out to Batman, I’d have done it already.”

That… didn’t necessarily make Taylor feel better.

But it was logical. At least. 

Spoiler tilted her head. “And you need me because…?”

“Because you know Gotham. Because you are my best option.”

Spoiler let out a short laugh. “Wow, that’s hilarious. I thought you were just gonna say I was good at punching things.”

Taylor didn’t react. She had seen enough of Spoiler in action to know that while she wasn’t as experienced as the rest of the Bat-family, she wasn’t incompetent either. More importantly, she had connections Taylor didn’t.

Spoiler considered for a moment before tapping a gloved finger against her chin. “Hmmm. Lemme think. You’re mysterious, broody, and definitely keeping secrets. Buuut… you’re also smart and actually competent, which is rare in this city.” She shrugged. “Yeah, alright. Team-up it is.”

Taylor exhaled slowly.

Spoiler pointed at her. “But if you betray me, I get to be dramatic about it.”

Taylor gave her a blank look.

Spoiler huffed. “Tough crowd.” Then, she sobered up. “I have some conditions, though.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Like what?”

“One: I’m not just your backup—I’m an equal partner in this. No bossing me around, no making all the decisions without me.”

Taylor hesitated. She wasn’t used to that. Lisa had been an ally, sure, but their dynamic had never been this… equal. Lisa had always been a step ahead, always pushing her toward some larger game she hadn’t seen yet. This was different.

“Fine,” she said.

Spoiler gave a relieved nod. “Cool. Second condition: I get to call you something. ‘Mystery girl’ is getting old.”

Taylor exhaled slowly. A name. In Brockton Bay, her identity had been tied to her power—Skitter, then Weaver. Here, she was just… herself. And yet, Gotham demanded something more. Something she could shape.

But she hadn’t given it much thought. As a matter of fact, she’d been subconsciously avoiding it. 

A name was a statement, an acknowledgment that she was stepping back into something she wasn’t sure she wanted anymore. But she couldn’t keep operating without one, not if she wanted people to take her seriously.

Her first instinct was ‘Ghost.’ It fit—she had no past here, no records, no proof she even existed. But it was too obvious, too plain. She needed something more.

‘Shade’ came unbidden, slipping through her thoughts before she even realized it. It fit, didn’t it? She was a remnant of someone who didn’t exist anymore. A shadow of what she had been, what she had fought for.

But the name felt wrong, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

That wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t just some lingering echo of the past. If she was going to keep moving forward, she needed something else. Something that wasn’t just about what she had lost. 

“Phantom?” No. Too dramatic.

Her mind drifted to Gotham itself. To the way she moved through its streets—unseen until she chose otherwise. Something that wasn’t there until it was. Something that shouldn’t exist, yet did.

The way she had adapted, hunted, gathered intel from the dark corners most people ignored.

“…You can call me Wraith.”

Spoiler blinked, then nodded slowly. “Wraith, huh? Yeah, I see it. Kinda spooky, kinda dramatic. I dig it.”

Taylor just nodded. It fit well enough. It wasn’t her, not fully. But it would do. For now. 

Spoiler grinned. “You do have a big ‘vengeful spirit’ energy.”

Taylor rolled her eyes.

Chuckling, she pushed off the wall. “So, Wraith,” she said, rolling the name around like she was testing how it fit. “Now that we’re officially the best dynamic duo in Gotham—”

“We’re not,” Taylor interjected.

“—I was thinking,” Spoiler continued as if she hadn’t heard, “maybe we should bring in some backup.”

Taylor shot her a sharp look. “No.”

Spoiler held up her hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, easy. Not saying we call in Batman or anything—just, y’know, an extra pair of hands. Someone to even the odds.”

Taylor shook her head. “The more people involved, the more chances for something to go wrong.”

Spoiler clicked her tongue. “Oof. Okay, yeah, that was straight out of the Bat playbook.”

“It’s practical,” Taylor said, tone clipped.

Spoiler eyed her for a long moment before shaking her head. “You really don’t trust people easily, huh?”

Taylor clenched her jaw beneath her mask. “I trust people to act in their own interests.”

“Yikes.” Spoiler let out a low whistle. “And I thought I had trust issues.”

She continued before Taylor could get a word in edgewise. “But, alright, I’ll drop it. But just so you know, Gotham’s a team sport. Even the big guy has backup.”

Taylor didn’t answer. She didn’t want backup. More allies meant complications. Expectations. People getting hurt because of her choices.

She wasn’t ready for that again. Maybe she never would be.

But she wasn’t going to debate this with Spoiler. Taylor had made her call, and that was the end of it.

After a beat, Spoiler sighed, stretching her arms over her head. “Fine, fine. But if this all goes sideways, I will be saying ‘I told you so.’”

Taylor didn’t answer. She just started walking toward the edge of the rooftop. “Then let’s make sure it doesn’t.”