Summary: Caught in an inescapable death trap set up by Two-Face, Batman is forced to choose who lives--Nightwing or Robin. More vignette than story; written in response to Syl's challenge (see below) introducing her story of the same name.
Syl's Challenge: "I just saw 'Sophie's Choice,' a film whose pivotal scene has a mother forced to choose which one of her two
children to send to the Nazi death camps. Either she chose one to die, or both would be sent, and she only had seconds
to make her decision. I found myself completely blown away by the moral dilemma. Later, it got me thinking: What if one
of the Bat-clan (or any superhero) was forced to make such a choice? Whom would he or she pick to live or die? Here is
my take. Anyone else care to try?"
Disclaimer, the usual: This is a fan-fiction not written for profit or other monetary gain. All characters belong to DC Comics; no copyright infringment intended. The words are my own, copyright May 2002.
Any and all feedback is welcome via both reviews and email ( CassandraChalice@hotmail.com ). Thanks for reading. Enjoy!
Batman's Choice -- CC's Response to Syl's Challenge
--------------------
Blacked out? Again? Dark -- no, too bright. And the noise... voices. The voices are Harvey. Both of them.
"Your Honor, the defendant has returned...Thank you, Bailiff; this court is once again in session."
Harvey Dent. Two-face. Former D.A. for Gotham City. Brilliant mind. Homocidal psychopath.
"The court reminds the defendant that your 'bond' is manufactured of Poly-Titanium Neo-Steel(tm)
allegedly suitable for restraining Superman; this, ipso facto, means you will be
unable to elude this bicameral court process, Batman."
Dry mouth. Fuzzy tongue. Arms, legs; left, right: all numb. Surgical-style restraints? Yes.
Head ringing. Curare? Designer drug? Can hardly think...
"The court DIRECTS the defendant to STOP struggling IMMEDIATELY, or ALL prisoners WILL be held IN CONTEMPT!"
I am suddenly reminded that there are a number of thugs in the room. They smile as they continue to keep their weapons casually trained on me and the boys. The boys! -- focus, dammit! -- the boys need me. Rob-- no, Dick's been Nightwing for years, now. My first partner, son and heir. And Tim; he's Robin, now: my current partner; my primary backup. So breathe. Focus. Ground and center. Ignore the smirks on the faces of Two-Face's hirelings. Ignore the unmoving forms of those two young men I trained to fight beside me.
"But don't worry, Batman, we do not subscribe to cruel and unusual punishments... Bailiff?" Two-Face pauses, then continues the dialog with himself. "Yes, your honor. Both of the Batman's young associates will remain unconscious through the completion of these proceedings. ... Thank you, Bailiff. Let the court record show that neither the black bird nor the bright bird will be afflicted with the knowlege of their circumstances..."
Focussed. Grounded. Centered. Make a sit-rep while Harvey talks. Self: drug and injury effects minimized but still major; still masked, but bootless, gloveless, beltless, no weapons within reach; non-autonomous brain-function estimate 15% of normal; range of motion estimate 1% of normal. Room: cinderblock industrial; doors, one visible, secure-style metal; windows, one visible, three surmised, frosted-glass, without bars: all suitable for exits, if accessible. Floor, concrete with large square pit, gallows above. Opponents: Harvey plus two visible, two more behind me, overly armed with small arms, hand weapons, knives, one grenade (overkill -- unsuitable for indoor use); weapons noted and counted. Allies: none conscious within range; no reinforcments within range. Hostages, two: Robin and Nightwing, unconscious on apparatus above the pit, still masked, but bootless, gloveless, beltless, with no visible weapons; apparently functional nooses around neck of each. Outlook: critical to -- oh, no -- No! -- Focus! Focus. Breathe. Ground and center. Outlook: critical to possibly fatal.
"...until one of them wakes up, and the second one wakes up dead!
Which one dies, Batman? Or would you rather have two dead birds in your hands? Choose one to die, or neither will live."
I see an opening, and find my voice. "Harvey, the accused before the bench are allowed to respond to their accuser!"
"But, Batman, the bird-brothers are not on trial here. Have you forgotten already? You are the defendant,
and the coin has found you guilty, and passed sentence. You have two seconds to reduce your sentence by half. Who do you choose for denial of parole?"
Harvey's even worse than he was before. 'Parole'? That's inconsistent... I could use that... Think, and breathe...
But Harvey speaks again. "Time allotted to this session is over. Bailiff?"
...but he's already tossed the coin into the air -- there's no time! I can't -- Dick is my son! Tim is my -- oh, god --
Focus! Breathe! Ground and --
The coin spins upward in the harsh light, and begins to fall. Two-Face's hirelings are openly grinning, and he continues his mono-dialogue. "Yes, your honor. Heads, Robin dies; tails, then Nightwing does."
-- Dick is my son, but Tim is my -- neighbors' son. There are FOUR hostages. Jack and Dana Drake -- and they don't even know about... oh, god... oh, no... Dick, I'm sorry, I... The coin has fallen back into Harvey's hand -- there is no more time;
I have to say it. "Let Robin live!! I choose Nightwing..."
...oh, my son...
------------------------
Syl's Challenge: "I just saw 'Sophie's Choice,' a film whose pivotal scene has a mother forced to choose which one of her two
children to send to the Nazi death camps. Either she chose one to die, or both would be sent, and she only had seconds
to make her decision. I found myself completely blown away by the moral dilemma. Later, it got me thinking: What if one
of the Bat-clan (or any superhero) was forced to make such a choice? Whom would he or she pick to live or die? Here is
my take. Anyone else care to try?"
Disclaimer, the usual: This is a fan-fiction not written for profit or other monetary gain. All characters belong to DC Comics; no copyright infringment intended. The words are my own, copyright May 2002.
Any and all feedback is welcome via both reviews and email ( CassandraChalice@hotmail.com ). Thanks for reading. Enjoy!
Batman's Choice -- CC's Response to Syl's Challenge
--------------------
Blacked out? Again? Dark -- no, too bright. And the noise... voices. The voices are Harvey. Both of them.
"Your Honor, the defendant has returned...Thank you, Bailiff; this court is once again in session."
Harvey Dent. Two-face. Former D.A. for Gotham City. Brilliant mind. Homocidal psychopath.
"The court reminds the defendant that your 'bond' is manufactured of Poly-Titanium Neo-Steel(tm)
allegedly suitable for restraining Superman; this, ipso facto, means you will be
unable to elude this bicameral court process, Batman."
Dry mouth. Fuzzy tongue. Arms, legs; left, right: all numb. Surgical-style restraints? Yes.
Head ringing. Curare? Designer drug? Can hardly think...
"The court DIRECTS the defendant to STOP struggling IMMEDIATELY, or ALL prisoners WILL be held IN CONTEMPT!"
I am suddenly reminded that there are a number of thugs in the room. They smile as they continue to keep their weapons casually trained on me and the boys. The boys! -- focus, dammit! -- the boys need me. Rob-- no, Dick's been Nightwing for years, now. My first partner, son and heir. And Tim; he's Robin, now: my current partner; my primary backup. So breathe. Focus. Ground and center. Ignore the smirks on the faces of Two-Face's hirelings. Ignore the unmoving forms of those two young men I trained to fight beside me.
"But don't worry, Batman, we do not subscribe to cruel and unusual punishments... Bailiff?" Two-Face pauses, then continues the dialog with himself. "Yes, your honor. Both of the Batman's young associates will remain unconscious through the completion of these proceedings. ... Thank you, Bailiff. Let the court record show that neither the black bird nor the bright bird will be afflicted with the knowlege of their circumstances..."
Focussed. Grounded. Centered. Make a sit-rep while Harvey talks. Self: drug and injury effects minimized but still major; still masked, but bootless, gloveless, beltless, no weapons within reach; non-autonomous brain-function estimate 15% of normal; range of motion estimate 1% of normal. Room: cinderblock industrial; doors, one visible, secure-style metal; windows, one visible, three surmised, frosted-glass, without bars: all suitable for exits, if accessible. Floor, concrete with large square pit, gallows above. Opponents: Harvey plus two visible, two more behind me, overly armed with small arms, hand weapons, knives, one grenade (overkill -- unsuitable for indoor use); weapons noted and counted. Allies: none conscious within range; no reinforcments within range. Hostages, two: Robin and Nightwing, unconscious on apparatus above the pit, still masked, but bootless, gloveless, beltless, with no visible weapons; apparently functional nooses around neck of each. Outlook: critical to -- oh, no -- No! -- Focus! Focus. Breathe. Ground and center. Outlook: critical to possibly fatal.
"...until one of them wakes up, and the second one wakes up dead!
Which one dies, Batman? Or would you rather have two dead birds in your hands? Choose one to die, or neither will live."
I see an opening, and find my voice. "Harvey, the accused before the bench are allowed to respond to their accuser!"
"But, Batman, the bird-brothers are not on trial here. Have you forgotten already? You are the defendant,
and the coin has found you guilty, and passed sentence. You have two seconds to reduce your sentence by half. Who do you choose for denial of parole?"
Harvey's even worse than he was before. 'Parole'? That's inconsistent... I could use that... Think, and breathe...
But Harvey speaks again. "Time allotted to this session is over. Bailiff?"
...but he's already tossed the coin into the air -- there's no time! I can't -- Dick is my son! Tim is my -- oh, god --
Focus! Breathe! Ground and --
The coin spins upward in the harsh light, and begins to fall. Two-Face's hirelings are openly grinning, and he continues his mono-dialogue. "Yes, your honor. Heads, Robin dies; tails, then Nightwing does."
-- Dick is my son, but Tim is my -- neighbors' son. There are FOUR hostages. Jack and Dana Drake -- and they don't even know about... oh, god... oh, no... Dick, I'm sorry, I... The coin has fallen back into Harvey's hand -- there is no more time;
I have to say it. "Let Robin live!! I choose Nightwing..."
...oh, my son...
------------------------