Blake needed to get away from the City. Needed to get away from Gotham. He needed to find some place he could lay low, and possibly make sense of his life. Because ever since he became Catman, the world became a very strange place. Strange, and dangerous.
So he went down south.
A small metropolitan called Jubilee, Texas. Not too far from I-10, but a hell of a long way from the movers and shakers in Dallas. He hitched a ride with a gigantic and grizzled trucker named Theodore "Ted Bear" Kelly. A native of Biloxi, Mississipi. He was a single, twice-divorcee, who stated, he couldn't stay faithful to save his own life. He was a large man; with a large apetite. And according to him, that didn't aways simply relay to food. Which was the problem.
"Hell, Only thang I like better then A--, is a better piece of A-- bringing me some beer!" The six-foot eight, two-hundred and thirty pound, black bearded, working-stiff belted.
"What about you mister, ever been married?"
"Once."
"Any kids?"
"A son." Blake answered, not too sure he wanted to go down this road. His son was no longer living thanks to him. His 'work,' with the Secret Six, a Mercenary Squad, created in secret by former United States President, Lex Luthor, then later re-formed, by the Government, and managed by Amanda Waller. Possibly the toughest Woman in the world, and certainly the closest thing that the world had to a "Super-Human liason," was the cause. Blake had, despite his former lifestyle as a super villian, a very strong sense of honor and duty to uphold his end of contracts.
Nothing stopped the mission.
Not even flesh and blood.
Things were bad when Luthor ran the show. But when the government, stuck their fingers into it, things got worst.
Supernatural Tickets.
Toture at the hands of a triple-jointed pyscho.
And the loss of friends.
And family.
But of course Ted had to continue. And its not like Blake could blame the guy, for wanting to know a little something about the stranger he agreed to carry across state lines, without want of payment.
Which, in this day and age, Blake found to be quite odd.
"So what happened? You two seperated?"
"Yeah."
"What was the cause? It's good to talk about this stuff. Helps it all make sense."
The massive truck drivers voice was strangly a comforting sound. Blake imagined, that had the man not been so intimitating, he would have made a hell of a Therapist.
"Guess I could never make it work either. Also, it didn't help that I worked late nights, and spent quite a bit of time in jail."
"Hmm, I pegged you as an outlaw. Figured you were ex-military, probably couldn't find steady work, turned to crime to pay the bills."
"Actually money was never the problem, it was..."
"..it was complicated." And that was that. Nothing else to really say after that. Ted noticed the sadness and regret in his compainions eyes and decided against further disscussion on the subject. Men in that state were unpredictaple. And sadness could and has quickly become rage. And as sure as he was in himself and his own strength and ability; Ted did not miss out on the fact that the man in his cabin was equally as imposing. Thomas Blake was a hard man. Any fool could see that.
"So were you Military?"
"Not exactly the military, but I did work for the Government."
Ted slapped his left knee with his left hand and roared, "Ha! Knew you were a solder. What was your job? Any thing important?"
"As I said. Not a solder. Well, not exactly."
"What exactly does, 'not exactly,' mean? Either your a damn solder, or ya ain't."
Teds voiced bounced throughout the small, rectangular, drivers cabin. Threating to cause the windows, which Ted kept up, "at all times," to implode.
Blake said, "I was a merc." And then Ted replied,
"Well, damn."
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷
"You telling me you offed people for the government?" Ted asked the dusty-brown haired man next to him. He just couldn't believe it. A contract-killer riding shotgun in his truck!! He didn't know if he should have been scared or impressesed. So he kept it even.
Being a trucker, Ted had met quite a few tough guys, in his twenty years on americas by-ways. He could always spot the really dangerous ones. But despite the Marines, Feds, and Seals he'd met. None of them came close to the man next to him. He could sense it.
"Pretty much did whatever I was told. It was easier that way. Until it stopped being so easy."
"What made things change?"
Blake turned to his left, out the window, at the expansive country side in his field of vision and replied, "I started giving a s--t."
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