Hiya everyone! I'm Nox...erm that's obvious isn't it. Anyways, I'm co-writing this "lovely" thing with my good friend Aerith. Say hi Aeri!

Hi.

She's gonna write her notes in italics, while I do them in pure bold! Cuz I'm awesome.

Or an idiot.

She's mean, right? Anyways, if you guys want to hear the totally awesome story of how we decided to write this, keep reading this. If you guys suck and want to read the first chappie of the story, scrowl down until there's no bold. So the story goes like this: I'm a DC fan so I had been looking at this Young Justice RP site. It was so sexy, I couldn't help but check the site for new stuff. During these checks, I read up on some OC's and I fell in love. So at lunch one day, I was talking about the site being amazing and all, when who but Aeri shows up. Oh god, really? You're going to tell them everything? Shut it, Gan. Anyways, she starts complaining about how her bro is forcing her to join an RP forum. Now, Aeri's never been much of an RPer, more of a straight up writer, and she wasn't happy with the character her bro wanted her to RP as. Do not tell that story too, Nox. Just finish this one up now. So it was revealed that the sites we were talking about were one and the same. So I fangirled, Aeri made a bad joke about me, I threatened to throw her in a locker, and somehow I managed to convince her to do this with me. Sweet right? I'm really starting to regret this. Suck it up, Gan. Or I'll do worse than throw you in a locker. *rolls eyes* I'm so terrified. And before you make another threat, I'll do the disclaimer.

Nox doesn't own jack shit. DC owns most of this. And by this, I mean Pre-Flashpoint DCU. The chapter titla is from an Alter Bridge song called White Knuckles. The only things we own are the plot and the permission of various character creators for us to use their shit.


Chapter 1: Hold On for Your Life (Only the Strong Survive)

Its official: Stephanie Brown was bored.

The young vigilante had known that a recon mission for Oracle wouldn't be the same as a team-up with Kara, but she had expected to do more than freeze her ass off on a rooftop while watching for some Japanese gangster to show up at the Iceberg Lounge. She had been perched in the same spot for over an hour, cursing both Oracle and herself.

"Not everything warrants a team-up, Batgirl," Barbara reminded her through the comm. Steph frowned at the comment, various ideas of what she could be doing at that moment flitting through her head.

"Come on, O. I'm sitting here, on a roof, in freeze-your-internal-organs weather, waiting for some Don, while I could be kicking Penguin's ass!" She could hear Barbara sigh quietly, probably mentally agreeing with her.

"For what?" she asked, "As of late, Cobblepott seems to be squeaky-clean."

"Really? Do we even need a reason?" Steph huffed, eyes narrowing at the villain's parked car, only a short drop from her position.

"I-hold on." The sound of typing filled the link, before Oracle spoke again. "Huntress stopped him. She's on route to your location now."

"So I can-"

"Go home." Oracle cut her excited response off with a slight chuckle. "Besides don't you have a test in one of your classes?"

"Oh come on!"

It had been like that for the past month. Dick and Damian patrolled, while Oracle and her team handled recon and covert missions. Every time it seemed that Steph could help in some way, she'd get sent home with the order to do something in regards to her classes. It left the most important member of the Bat-Clan, Batgirl herself, feeling a little left out. Sure, there were times when she could help, even times when she could get through a patrol of her own with landing on Dick's radar, but they were getting rarer and rarer it seemed. But, as things tended to in Gotham City, things were about to change.

"HEY BAT-BITCH!" Steph was pulled out of her thoughts by an insult that had become frequently used in the shadows of Gotham. Blue eyes found the owner of the shout with ease: a scrawny-looking guy holding a small gun.

"Looks like I am going to be kicking some ass tonight," Steph grinned, tilting her head to the side to effortlessly avoid a sloppily-aimed bullet. Leaping off the roof, Batgirl watched as the man fired another shot at her before turning tail and running.

"Be careful," Oracle warned as Steph started after the thug, pulling a batarang from her belt.

"What? Don't you want to play?" she called, closing the distance between her and the shooter with ease. The man yelped and darted towards a door. Smiling, Batgirl threw her batarang at him. It spiraled in the air towards him before-"Damn."

"You missed, didn't you?" Oracle asked.

"Shut up," Steph replied, watching the man disappear into the building. Sighing, she followed after him, and found herself in a large, but empty, room. Stepping forward until she was in the center of it, Steph frowned, "Huh. Hey O, where do you think he-gah!"

The vigilante doubled over in pain, clutching the sides of her head as static mixed with the shrill sounds of feedback blasted through her comm-link. "What the hell?"

"Do you like it?" the shooter asked quietly, appearing suddenly in front of her. "It was made to render those comms useless."

"I can't say that it's my favorite song," she replied, straightening up and studying the man warily, her head pounding from the endless static. Now that she was up-close with him, she could tell that he looked more like Mandark from Dexter's Lab than a Gotham thug. He was scrawnier than she had initially thought, but his dark eyes were empty of any light. It was unnerving to say the least. With her unrivalled deduction skills, or so Steph liked to think, she came to the conclusion that the taser-looking thing in his hands was what was messing with her comm. "But it's not the worse I've ever heard."

"The sounds of us breaking every bone in your body will be that," another voice stated darkly. Batgirl glanced around, counting roughly ten thugs, one carrying what looked like a sledgehammer.

"Look boys," she began, listening for footsteps behind her. "I came here to tango with him. If you want a dance-"

Hearing the sound she had been waiting for, Batgirl started to spin around, slamming her elbow into a thug's nose. She completed the turn with a kick that sent him flying back against a wall. "You'll have to get in line!"

Steph had never been the best fighter. Sure, Bruce, Barbara, Tim and Cass had helped train her, but she was by no means the greatest martial artist to walk the planet. That title was saved for Cass in her eyes, just because at times there seemed to be no limit to what the daughter of the deadliest assassins could do. But Stephanie could see, clear as day that she was fighting off ten armed thugs and winning without truly breaking a sweat. That was, until one of them got lucky.

The sledgehammer collided with her stomach, knocking her flat on her back. She didn't have time to move before they were on her, kicking her until she couldn't hold back a scream, "ORACLE!"

"Ain't no ginger-bitch gonna help you now," one of the thugs told her, kicking her in the head. Her vision swam as his words replayed in her head.

"How does he know that?" she thought, weakly struggling as the thugs stopped their assault to instead pin her to the ground. Mandark walked into her line of sight, taking a sledgehammer from one thug. "How can they know who she is?"

"You're gonna die in here, Bat-Bitch," he said, raising the sledgehammer. Steph closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow.

"This is it. I'm going to die by the hands of some wannabe thug. Damn it, Damian is never going to let me live this down."

"What's this? You lugs started the party without me?" a masculine voice called, causing her blue eyes to snap open. They landed on a figure basked in the moonlight from a far above skylight. He appeared to be slowly descending, large silver wings beating slowly, like a falcon unhurriedly lowering itself onto a tree branch.

"An angel?" Steph thought absentmindedly. "Am I dead? And since when did angels dress like ninjas?"

The man landed, his dark brown eyes finding her blue ones. In fact, his eyes were one of the few areas left uncovered. He had on some sort of black spandex that covered his torso and head, although not over his face. He instead covered his identity with a grey facemask that protected his mouth and nose. Over his torso, was a grey vest that was cut into a V-like shape, which matched the grey loincloth-thing he wore over black cloth pants. The pants were tucked into black boots, and strategically placed grey plates protected his arms and legs. A bandoleer was slung over his shoulders, drawing attention to the most important thing about this man. The giant, metallic wings sprouting from his back. Steph had never seen something like that. She knew that Azreal and Batwing both had metal wings, but she couldn't recall from the pictures she had seen of them if theirs were as detailed as this mysterious man's. On his, she could practically see individual feathers. The young Gothamite girl was so lost in her study of the man that she didn't even realize that the thugs were no longer pinning her to the ground, and were instead charging at the winged man. The only one who didn't move was Mandark, who appeared to be frozen at the sight of the mystery man.

The winged ninja fought the thugs off with ease, his dark eyes never leaving Steph's blue ones. Fierce emotions showed in them clearly: protectiveness, anger…guilt. As the ninja took care of the last couple thugs, Mandark made his move. The scrawny little man brought the hammer down on her stomach, earning a gurgled scream of pain from the blonde. The attack itself hadn't had enough power behind it to injure her horribly through her suit, but the hammer was heavy enough on its own to leave a nasty bruise.

However the scream seemed to break whatever cool concentration the ninja had, allowing for the only thug still on his feet to punch the man in the face. The winged mystery stumbled back slightly, dazed, but unharmed. Batgirl attempted to rise up, noticing Mandark was beginning to lift the hammer again, only for her vision to swim again.

"Fuck…that's a concussion. Come on, Steph. You've survived being tortured before. This should be a walk in the park."

"WHO HIRED YOU?!" the winged ninja roared as he threw the thug he had been fighting into Mandark, sending both flying backwards. Beating his wings, the man flew over to them, picking up the still conscious Mandark with a snarl. "ANSWER ME!"

"We are the Cult of Pain," Mandark replied, grinning wickedly. "Our Master is the only one we answer to."

Mandark started then to spasm, white foam dripping from his mouth. With a curse, the winged man dropped him, turning back towards the barely conscious Batgirl. Brown eyes widened, and the man rushed towards her, kneeling beside her as he scanned for wounds.

"Batgirl, I'm going to pick you up, alright?" he began softly. She nodded slightly, before feeling his arms wrap around her shoulders and knees, lifting her bridal style. "I think you have a concussion."

"No shit, Sherlock," she mumbled weakly, resting her head against his chest. Faintly, she could hear his heartbeat, a steady drum as they lifted off the ground. The steadiness quickly lulled the blonde hero into blissful sleep.


"Stephanie, wake up. Alfred made pancakes." Dick's deep voice, filled with all the energy of a child, pulled Steph from her rest. Her eyes fluttered open to find herself in a room that was not her own. That much was clear by the fact that she felt like she was laying on a cloud-a sure sign of being at the Wayne Manor. Turning her head, she took in the sight of Barbara asleep in her wheelchair beside the bed, and Dick standing behind her with a tray filled with food. He smiled at her and continued, "Thank god that worked. My next plan was to get Damian to reenact Sleeping Beauty with you."

"Tch, I wouldn't have kissed Fatgirl even if she was going to die," Damian stated from the doorway. He made his way in, a dark glare on his young features. It would have been threatening, if it weren't for the fact that his eyes were bloodshot and slightly puffy. As though he had been crying.

"You say that now, but wait 'til you hit puberty, kid," Dick grinned; balancing the tray with one hand in order to ruffle the ten year old's hair. "Then she'll be all you think about."

"Ugh, how long was I out?" Steph asked, struggling to sit up. Grimacing, Damian helped her silently, avoiding her curious gaze.

"A while," Dick shrugged, placing the tray on her lap. "We were worried that you slipped into a coma."

"How long has Barb been here?"

"Since Dick took you back here," Barbara replied groggily, slowly waking up. Steph nodded slowly; Dick was the one who'd think of bringing her to the manor. A memory of the night before flashed through her head: silver wings in the moonlight.

"Who was that winged ninja guy." The three exchanged looks at her question, before meeting her curious gaze.

"Bruce wants you to figure that out on your own," Barbara stated, frowning slightly.

"It's to improve your deduction," Damian explained, his voice lacking its usual bite. Seemingly to mend that mistake, he followed it up with a, "Glad someone else knows you need to."

"Damian," Dick warned, frowning at his sidekick. Damian glowered at him, earning an eye twitch from the last Flying Grayson, before Dick turned his attention back to Steph, "He also ordered that you stay off patrol for at least two weeks."

"Normally, I'd argue with that," Stephanie began, picking up a fork from the tray. "But after what happened last night, I don't think I deserve to be Batgirl."


AN: So Steph is feeling a little sad cuz she got her ass handed to her by some weirdos. I hope to all things holy that I wrote these characters right. If not, then someone write me a review and tell me that it sucks please. Or if anyone has any ideas that I can use to mess with my sweet, sweet Aerith. I'm still here you idiot. I know, my yummy KitKat. Gross. Hehe. Anyways, the winged guy is (obviously) an OC, but I can't reveal anymore info about that.

Um, don't worry people, Aeri and I are going to attempt to write a decent story (with the PTSD Blackest Night gave everyone) not involving the New 52. The only things we really enjoy about that mess are as follows: Red Hood (Jason's hot...I can't refute that), Aquaman (he's finally cool), Court of Owls (Poor Dick...even though everyone calls him Richard now), and of course Death of the Family (Joker...is in love...creepy aye?).

Erm, write reviews...please? I'll even love flames if you write them. We'll roast marshmellows for our smores on them. XD

Really Nox? Ugh, Aerith over and out.

Noooo! Come back my pet! You have to be the fat cat to my Bond villain! GAH! Exit Stage Left!