A/N: You know how the disclaimer game goes. Batman and all related elements therein are the property of DC Comics. OCs appearing in this story (and it's a very OC-heavy story, trust me) belong either to me or my friends. The full list of OCs and their owners are listed on deviantART where the story was originally posted. NOTE: This story is a sequel to the original Freaky Love and Freaky Family. If you haven't read the first two fanfictions, you're going to be extremely lost. And finally, I'm categorizing this under comics as a catch-all, since I canon-blend/canon-cross like there's no tomorrow. Originally I wasn't planning on posting this here, but in order to allow one of my closest friends to continue reading since she deactivated her dA account, this is getting posted.

Chapter 1: I Bow To No One

"Give it up, Wraith!"

The thief kept the shaft of her scythe tight to her side, doing her best to stay out of sight.

"Did you really think that you could come to Star City and this place would be easier pickings?" The question rang and echoed off the walls, and she silently began to move in the confined office building, taking care to keep down as best as she could to avoid being seen. She gritted her teeth, anxious to be out of the place.

"Well, it's starting to look like I made a bad call on that!" she yelled back before darting down a side hall and through a door. There was a twanging sound and a rush of air, and an arrow thudded into the wall, just inches above her head.

She swore and ran to her left, abandoning all pretense of stealth as she ran to the elevator doors. Three more twangs of the high-tech bow, three more dull thuds as the arrows missed her. Then she was inside the elevator, rapidly smashing the button for the roof over and over, panicking as the archer in green ran toward her, nocking another arrow. The doors slid shut just as the arrow thunked into the back wall of the elevator, inches from her ear. The floor gave a small lurch, and the elevator rose, giving her a moment to relax, exhaling hoarsely.

"So long, Arrow." she sighed.

The elevator came to a shuddering stop at the roof level, and the doors slid open with a musical chime.

"Oh, mother fudge bucket." she muttered, staring down another nocked arrow.

"Miss me, bird-girl?" The vigilante asked before letting the arrow fly. It burst open in mid-air, and before Wraith could move to bring her bracelets together, the net-mesh was pinning her down, trapping her arms and wings. In seconds, she was being dragged from the elevator and dumped unceremoniously on the rooftop.

"Sorry to cut your little 'shopping spree' short, missy," Green Arrow remarked, pulling a smart phone from his belt and running his fingers over the touchscreen, "But I have a low tolerance level for bullcrap in my city. So don't try to feed me any about why you're here. Bullcrap, that is."

"Thanks for not trying to make bad puns." she huffed. "Think you could give Batman a few pointers on that?"

"Since I'm texting him to come pick you up, I'll be sure to mention that for his Bat-suggestion box or whatever." he replied happily, and a second later his phone beeped. "Oh, well lucky you! He's already in the area, so he'll be here any minute."

"Wait, what? You're actually texting Batman. He texts?"

"Actually, I think his car does. Show-off."

The thief rolled her eyes and wriggled slightly in the net-mesh. If she could just get her wrists loose…

"Now that's settled," Green Arrow said, reattaching the phone to his belt before kneeling down to stare her in the eye, "Why did you break into Star Labs, Wraith?"

"No reason." she said quickly, looking away and pretending she wasn't struggling.

"A medical lab isn't your style, given what I've read." He pressed, his gaze weighing heavily on her. "An art gala, maybe. You have an eye for 'pretty' things. So what's your angle here, then?"

"I needed to know something. And I doubted I could have walked in and just made an appointment for it."

"Given your criminal history, I think it would have been difficult, but not impossible. Why? What information was so important to get that you couldn't wait for legal means?"

"Time." she said softly.

"Time?" he repeated.

"Yeah…I don't really want to talk about it."

Green Arrow paused for a long moment, mulling in nearly palpable frustration. Finally, he answered, "Fine. You don't want to talk to me, whatever. But Batman probably won't give you much of a choice."

She chose not to respond to that, mostly because he had an incredibly valid point. She was expecting an interrogation from Batman. He wouldn't be able to stop himself. It was just part of how he rolled. And quite frankly, she would more than happily answer questions from him than either of her older half-brothers. He would handle it better.

"You ever thought about reforming?"

She glanced up sharply, puzzled.

"Beg your pardon?"

"I said, have you ever thought about reforming?" Green Arrow repeated. "You know, go through therapy, serve your time, start a whole new life?"

The way he asked, he sounded genuine about it, like he was asking because he actually cared about seeing that happen for her. Relaxing a little, she nodded.

"That's what Guen wants. That is…what I want. Not me, but the other me." she answered. "She wants to start over. Me, I just want to protect her."

"And break into a medical lab." He added, raising an eyebrow. "What brought this on? I thought you were on probation of some kind."

She winced slightly. "Okay, maybe I lied a bit," she admitted, "I am working as a criminal consultant as terms of my probation. Detective Ellen Yin of the Gotham P.D. is my handler."

"So you have been trying to reform!" Green Arrow said, mildly surprised. "So then what was all this about? Are you on an assignment? If you are, then why didn't you just say so?!"

"Would you have believed her and stood down if she had?" A new voice interrupted. The two jumped slightly, turning to see a dark silhouette near the edge of the roof approaching them with slow, deliberate steps. Green Arrow bristled visibly.

"Alright, fair enough," he conceded grudgingly, "But that doesn't mean I'm going to just tolerate your people showing up and trying anything in my city without some heads-up first."

"It won't happen again." Batman replied with a sort of stony finality in his voice. Wraith's wings puffed in mild alarm, but neither man gave any sign that they noticed this. Batman approached her in a few swift strides, withdrawing a bat-a-rang from his utility belt. He knelt down, sawing the cables of the netting away with the edge of his weapon, and Green Arrow gave a distinct noise of irritation at the sight.

"Whew, thanks, Bats," Wraith sighed, slowly getting to her feet and rubbing her calves, "I was starting to cramp under there."

He was already moving before she finished speaking, and with a slight stab of annoyance, she started trotting after him toward the edge of the roof.

"So that's it then?" Green Arrow called after them, sounding rather put out. Batman turned his head just enough to show his profile, but his gaze was locked on the roof's edge.

"I owe you one." He replied curtly, and before the other vigilante could respond, he leapt down and out of sight. Wraith tossed Green Arrow a shrug.

"See ya, Robin Hood." She said by way of farewell, and jumped from the edge of the roof after the caped crusader, unfurling her wings.

Below, the Batmobile was parked in wait, its engine rumbling softly, the roof open. Batman himself was already buckled into the driver's seat, and staring fixedly at the road ahead. Her wings slowed her fall, and she landed in the passenger seat with ease, situating herself and folding her wings in as tightly as she could. She decided to forego the seatbelt; even if she didn't have the problem of her extra limbs, she highly doubted anyone would pull Batman over for a seatbelt ticket. The roof slid shut with a smooth click, and Batman shot forward into drive.

"Yow! Could you maybe try not to give me whiplash?"

"Why were you at Star Labs, Wraith?"

"Ha, you're direct as ever."

"Answer the question."

She looked over at him, trying to gauge his mood. His masked face looked as impassive as ever, but his tone was sharp and strained.

"I know you weren't there on an assignment," he continued, "Detective Yin would have informed me. I helped you evade Green Arrow's full questioning; the least you can do, is tell me why that is."

She crossed her arms and leaned on the window, feeling surly. But even as her thoughts dared to stray, there came a small nudge of sorts from the back of Wraith's mind, and she sank into herself, letting her other personality take charge.

"Sorry, Batman," Guenhivyre Pendragon said with a bit of a sigh, "Wraith decided to be impulsive because I was worried, and I didn't try to stop her."

"And what kind of worry leads to an impulse to break into a lab in Star City?"

Guen turned her large, frightened green eyes to Batman and took a deep breath.

It wasn't unusual for anyone who worked in the Gotham City Police Department to have such a bad day at one point they went storming like a raging thunderhead of clouds through HQ. But if the average officer looked like a thunderhead when furious, then at that moment, Detective Ellen Yin more closely resembled a fast-moving hurricane wall. A broken tracking anklet was clutched in one white-knuckled fist, and in her other hand, she was trying not to break her cell phone. Several officers leapt out of her way as she charged up to the roof, her dark ponytail flying behind her.

"Detective, what—" someone tried to speak to her, but if anything, she only increased her pace, reaching the staircase and taking it two steps at a time. The tracking anklet's signal was broadcast to HQ, and when the silent alert had triggered that the anklet had been broken, Yin and Montoya had been working on a sting on a weapons trafficking operation. Needless to say she had been furious when the call from HQ had informed her that her criminal consultant had escaped, and the last night and a half, she had been trying without success to track Wraith down.

Her fury now was primarily a matter of pride. Yin had been the best in Metropolis P.D. before life had brought her to Gotham, and she had risen through the ranks to a high position, recommended by Detective Renée Montoya, her senior in the department. To have a criminal consultant given to Yin to be handled was a huge deal, but Wraith slipping away like this could sour the whole thing.

"She won't get away with this," Yin snarled as she charged up the stairs and onto the roof, heading directly for the Batsignal, "I won't let her just—"

"Let me what, detective?"

Yin spun and aimed, sighting down her gun at the winged thief.

"Put the gun away," a second voice growled, as Batman materialized from the shadows behind Wraith, "It's just us, detective."

"I don't think so," she replied, though she did lower the gun by several inches, "Miss Pendragon broke her tracking anklet and has evaded police custody for forty-eight hours."

"With good reason." Batman countered.

"Really?" Yin never dropped her skeptical tone as she glared at Wraith. "Mind sharing those reasons with me?"

But the thief's mouth tightened and she took a step back, giving the dark knight a significant look. A surge of annoyance rose in the female detective. So her criminal consultant was going to hide behind the Bat's cape, was she?

"Detective," Batman began, but she moved to get past him and to Wraith. She was unsuccessful though, as he moved faster than she, and prevented her from getting to the thief. "Detective, stop. She may not be ready to share all the details with you yet, but she had her reasons."

"And I suppose you know what they all are, don't you?" Yin snapped.

"Yes," he replied, his tone brooking no argument, "I do."

She glared up at him for a moment before turning her furious look upon Wraith, who shuffled uneasily from foot to foot.

"Don't think for a single second that you're getting off scot-free on this, Pendragon," she snapped, "Whether you tell me now or later why you broke out of my custody, there are going to be consequences for your actions."

She jammed her gun back into its holster, and Wraith gave a slow, solemn nod.

"Trust me detective, I know."

Gary Myers wasn't necessarily what one could call "respected" among the rogues of Gotham, not for his rogue identity at any rate. Nobody was immediately quick to take someone by the moniker of "The Dungeonmaster" very seriously. His ability with robotics and computers however, was another matter completely. If anyone laughed at Gary for identifying with an integral part of "his game", they typically stopped laughing when they realized exactly what he did. His particular gift for creating near-intelligent automatons was something he took great pride in. His own high intelligence was something else he also took great pride in.

But pride is the downfall of all men sooner or later, and Gary was staring down a particularly nasty predicament and just beginning to realize how much trouble his pride was really getting him into.

Alright, Gary, he thought to himself as he watched the enraged redheaded woman's face darken, this is one of the absolute dumbest things you have ever done.

But it's not my fault,

he argued with his thoughts, no stupid, skinny cow is going to use some pheromone mojo dust to turn ME into her personal monkey.

"I'm not going to ask you again." Poison Ivy said testily. "Now—"

"See, there's your problem," Gary snapped waspishly, talking loudly over her despite a small part of his brain protesting he was digging an even bigger grave now, "You've not been asking me at all. You've been orderingme around, or at least trying to. And nobody orders Gary Myers to do anything, especially if they're trying to cheat and use magic drug dust to get me to comply. Sorry, but you aren't getting anything out of me, period."

Poison Ivy's face turned a brilliant shade of red-purple in her rage, and she began to shake silently. Gary was given to the impression she was trying very hard not to strangle him in that instant. He refused to back down, however. She was not going to turn him into some obedient little monkey.

"Very well, then." She said in a voice of forced calm. "If you won't be a good little boy on your own, far be it from me to pursue a lost cause."

His brows knitted together in suspicion as he kept his gray eyes locked on the plant lady. No way it was just going to be that easy. It never was, not with any of the big-name rogues.

"But I will not stand to be insulted, little man!" She snapped, her green eyes blazing. "You will regret this."

He barely heard it in time: a fleshy, slithering sound from somewhere to the left. With a yell, Gary flung himself to the right, just narrowly dodging a huge vine that slammed into the ground where he had been standing. But in the process, he had crossed the path of a second vine, which rammed into him and sent him flying. He spun over and over, landing painfully, only just managing to catch himself on his hands and knees. The second vine arched in the air, a snake ready to strike, and Gary pushed himself into a run, adrenaline exploding into his body. The plants crashed into the ground behind him, too close for comfort.

"Get back here!" Poison Ivy shouted.

"So you can turn me into fertilizer?" Gary yelled, not looking back as he darted out of the greenhouse. "No, thanks! I think I'll pass!"

A second later, the full weight of his predicament hit him like a brick as he realized he was leaving the main greenhouse and running straight toward a hedge maze.

"N'aww, crap." He muttered.

There was an explosion of glass behind him as plants burst through the barriers to get to him, and he took off running again. After all, between Scylla and Charybdis, hadn't Odysseus taken the maelstrom whirlpool and navigated his ship through it? Dealing with Ivy and her plants head-on was a stupid idea, but navigating the hedge maze, perhaps he stood a chance. His gym shoes took him skidding and sliding down the earthen path, and he broke into an awkward run when he reached the entrance to the maze. Shrieks pierced the air as he bumped and crashed through the path in the maze, and he knew with a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut that the crazy plant lady was chasing him.

Keep it together, he told himself frantically as he wove his way through twists and turns, You can still get out of this in one piece, but you have got to focus.

The path took him down a trail that zigzagged sharply, and it was around this point that he heard plants crashing behind him. Poison Ivy had entered the maze. Swearing softly, Gary ran until he came to a fork where the path branched out into two. He swore again. If only he'd thought to link up with Kyle and Cassandra prior to this, he could have them guide him to safety.

There was a tiny, staticky squawk from the comm-link ear-bud in his ear, and he jumped. There was no way—! A voice he didn't recognize issued over the comm.

"Go to your left. Follow the path that stays closest to the wall." The voice commanded.

"Who is this?" Gary demanded, even as his feet obeyed and he ran to the path on the left. "How did you hack my frequency?"

"Ah-ah-ah! That would be telling," the voice answered mischievously, "There's a sharp right coming up, followed immediately by a sharp left."

He complied with the directions, slamming once or twice into a hedgerow before the path hugged the wall of the greenhouse. There came another scream of rage behind him.

"Ooh, she's mad, isn't she?" The voice had a hint of mild amusement in it. "Turn left again up here. The right-hand branch is a useless loop."

He hung a hard left as a stitch grew in his chest.

"Call it a talent of mine." He gasped for breath.

"Ticking off women does not sound like a talent to be proud of, Mister Myers." The voice remarked. "Take the next path on the right, then the second left opening."

Gary skidded to a halt before the next branch, growing all the more suspicious as he tried to catch his breath.

"Hold on a second! I don't know who you are, and you won't tell me, so what in the name of all things holy makes you think I'm just going to trust you?"

"You don't really have time to question this, Myers," the voice answered smoothly, "Unless of course, you want to be captured by the angry mutant with deadly foliage and pheromone dust at her beck-and-call."

Swearing again, Gary stumbled to the right and willed himself to continue running. But it was getting harder and harder to keep up this pace. He wasn't cut out for chases, and he was definitely out of shape. Part of him wanted desperately to call his Behir automaton again, but he had summoned it a while ago already when Ivy had first approached him, and it still wasn't here.

I need a better escape plan than this lunacy, he thought. But he didn't have time to really work it out; without warning, the hedgerows budded and burst into bloom with hundreds of little pink-and-white flowers. The flowers lunged, bursting from the tall hedges and surging toward him. And he made the mistake of taking a split-second glance at them.

Screaming, Gary was dragged into the midst of the plants, kicking and straining against the vines that gripped him like snake coils as he was pulled deeper into the maze. His glasses were dislodged from his face and vanished somewhere, and the world at a distance blurred. His panic spiked. His chances at escape were getting precariously thin.

"Nice try, Dungeonmaster," Poison Ivy said in mocking tones, "But stupid. Very stupid to think you could get away from me in my own maze."

"Not stupid," he growled in response, continuing to thrash and fight the plants wildly, "Just—needed—to buy—time."

As if on cue, he felt the tiniest of tremors build up through the floor. Oblivious apparently, Poison Ivy loomed over him, snorting as her green eyes drilled into his gray ones.

"Buy time? For what, little man?"

The tremors grew stronger, shaking the floor beneath them and knocking her off the humongous plant she had been riding on. She hit the floor with a shriek, causing him to smile grimly. The ground broke apart with a tremendous crack, and dirt showered down as a mechanical monster burst out of the ground and let out a metallic roar. Fifteen feet long with twelve clawed legs and a crocodilian head, the Behir automaton swept its long tail about and scooped up its master, tearing through the plants restraining him with ease.

"No!" Ivy shrieked in rage. "NO!"

Another blast of sound issued from the Behir as it whipped around, snapping its jaws at the plants. The long vines and sinister blossoms shrank back for a second and in that instant, the automaton shot away like a rocket, crashing through the maze single-mindedly as Gary scrambled up its back and Ivy screamed her rage.

"Good boy!" Gary gasped, finding the leather straps under the automaton's neck plates and holding on for dear life.

"Now that's an impressive example of your robotic skills, Mister Myers!" The unknown voice crackled over his ear-bud again. He scowled slightly as he squinted and tried to see where his automaton was heading.

"Augh, you're still hanging around and hacking my frequency?! Listen man, you've been less than helpful to me—" he started, but the voice cut him off quickly.

"Your automaton is modeled to tap into sources of electric currents and conduct them through the horns on its head." It was a statement, not a question, and the Dungeonmaster began to wonder just how much this mysterious hacker had found out about him. His gut twisted uncomfortably and he nearly missed what was said next. "I can rupture the nearby pipelines if you draw Ivy out close to the road."

"Wait, what?!" Gary squawked.

"Oh, please don't make me spell it out for you," the voice sighed, "I'll be so disappointed."

The ear-bud abruptly went silent and he growled in irritation. So now he was being given orders like some lackey, being made to follow someone else's plan? He was the Dungeonmaster, for pity's sake! He wouldn't bow to anyone; not Poison Ivy, and not this strange hacker!

More crashing issued behind him.

"You aren't going anywhere, little man!"

He glanced over his shoulder and swore yet again. Perhaps he would have to swallow his pride after all. He yanked on the leather handholds and urged the automaton to where he knew the roadside phone wires stood. The Behir roared again, holding its mouth open as it charged, an eerie rushing sound mixing with its cry in Gary's ears. Squinting ahead, he saw a peculiar pillar near the phone lines, one that hadn't been there before. And it was from there the rushing sound was originating. Suddenly, all of it clicked into place.

"Hey, super-vegetable!" He shouted over his shoulder, grinning maniacally. "This way! See if you can keep up, slowpoke!"

Vines shot out, nearly knocking him off the automaton entirely, but it was worth the risk; Ivy's plants were now coming into direct contact with the small geyser. As she rushed towards him, Gary tapped a hand rapidly against the Behir's side.

"Charge the water via the phone lines, boy!" He hissed, and the crocodilian jaws snapped down on the telephone wires. Sparks flew and crackled, and electricity hummed and built around the horns on top of the automaton's head. Too late, Poison Ivy realized what his intent was.

"NO!" She screamed, as bolts of energy shot from the metallic horns to the water soaking her monstrous plants. Gary didn't have time to see the plan work. The plants thrashed violently and finally dislodged him. He didn't have time to draw breath for a scream as he flew through the air.

Oh, I'm going to die. The thought occurred to him, in a bit of surprise. I won't be able to walk away from this.

Something slammed into him and he stopped falling. An arm had a vice grip around his side and he began to rise into the air again, moving in an arch toward a building on the other side of the road, away from the female rogue and her shrieks of agony. He gasped, willing himself not to flail and dislodge the grip of his savior.

"Well done, Dungeonmaster. Looks like you didn't need me to spell the plan out for you after all."

The sound of the voice gave him a start and before he could glance up, he was deposited on the roof of the building. Tumbling, he rolled a small distance before coming to a stop and shakily pushing himself up on his knees. Poison Ivy's screams died down, and he looked back across the road. She collapsed onto her plants, which had turned a green-brown that reminded him of fried asparagus. Nearby, his automaton had gone motionless. He stared for what felt like ages, stunned, until he heard the clicking of booted footfalls on the roof and the clapping of gloved hands.

"You certainly can bring quite the cook-out to the party, can't you, Dungeonmaster?" The smooth voice that had previously issued from his ear-bud was coming from what appeared to be a tall ghost. Squinting, Gary rubbed his eyes vigorously and got to his feet. The figure moved closer and paused with its hand outstretched.

"I expect you'll be wanting these back?" It said lightly, and Gary sidled closer, taking something from the proffered hand. He realized with a small shock it was his glasses, but he turned his face away to hide his surprise.

"Who are you?" He demanded, jamming his glasses back onto his nose.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the figure clicked its tongue in mild disapproval, "Not so much as a thank-you, Mister Myers?"

He looked back with a scowl. What he had mistaken for a ghost was a man dressed from head-to-toe in a stark-white hooded costume. The only bit of color on him came in the form of what appeared to be a silver utility belt, and an encircled black "A" splashed across his chest. Begrudgingly, Gary stared into the hooded, expectant face and forced down his pride.

"Thanks." He muttered.

"That's more like it!" The man said cheerfully. "It's so much better to work together when we can show a little gratitude here and there."

" 'Work together'?" Gary echoed with a scoff. "I don't know how things work up in that chalky, pale head of yours, but here's a newsflash for you: the Dungeonmaster works alone."

"I don't see why you insist on being so negative," the man in white said reproachfully, "We make a decent team."

"And I repeat, I work alone."

He turned away, ready to leave, but the stranger wasn't finished.

"Oh dear…then how do you explain your frequent collaborative contact with Kyle Roberts and Cassandra Derricks? Or what about your willing team-up so recently with all those rogues against some crazed scientist?" came the cold demand. Gary froze in his tracks. So this guy knew about his friends, his contacts! Anger burned in the Dungeonmaster, turning his blood hot. He spun back around on his heel, to find the man in white smiling at him innocently.

"What do you want?" He demanded, clenching his fists.

"For the time being?" The man gave a light shrug. "Allies. I am about to go to war soon, and the more people there are aligned with me, the better."

"War? I don't want anything to do with any 'war,' and I don't care what kind it is!"

"And if the war is being waged against the man who killed your father?"

Gary's mouth fell open, his eyes widened, and his hands grew clammy. Fear and anger and suspicion raced together in his head.

"What do you know about my father's killer?" His voice went hoarse.

"A great deal more than you, I expect," said the other calmly, "Especially considering you've been unsuccessful in your attempts to discover the murderer's identity."

Rage pumped through the self-made rogue. Before he could stop himself, he seized the collar of the stranger's cowl and shook him furiously.

"Who is it? WHO?! Tell me! "

"Temper, te-mper," the man in white spoke in a sing-song voice, pushing Gary's hands off him with ease, "You won't learn anything acting like that. But if you consider possibly extending your limits of operation—"

"Then I'll come looking for you." Gary growled.

"You're welcome to try, Mister Myers, but chances are more likely that I'll find you."

Oh geez, Gary's anger subsided into exasperation at that, He's one of THOSE turkeys.

"I'll bet," he muttered, but as the man seemed ready to leave, another thought occurred to Gary, "Are you making the same offer to the Pendragons?"

His mysterious visitor had been mid-step when he asked, and paused somewhat thoughtfully before giving him a questioning look.

"Okay, well…" Gary went on, trying to amend what he had said, "I don't think Lance Pendragon's going to be too interested, but his sister might be willing to partner up with you on this. Their father and my father were killed by the same person or whoever. At least, that's what we think. My father was working for Artemis Pendragon when they both died, and they died the same night. So maybe Lance and his sister would be interested in hearing what you've got to say."

The man in white smiled. "I'll bear that in mind. Now, if you don't have any more questions…?"

"Just one, and give me a straight answer this time. Who are you?"

The man's smile turned frigid and the night around them suddenly seemed forbidding.

"For the time being, Mister Myers, you may call me Anarky."