A/N: I know this is long, but it's introduction to our cast of characters. How can Bruce and Dick have kids around the same age? My answer is this; the ages in the DCU are often odd and inconsistent. I needed that for my story. I'm sorry if it really bugs you, but it's how it had to be. :)
She was lucid, almost undetectable as she slid through the shadows as if they were a second skin. He had been watching her for a few hours now, tracking her as she slinked through Gotham unseen. He had witnessed many different aspects of the city, but none intrigued him as much as the shadowy alleys and underworld of the town. Beneath the chipped pavement there were things that most people couldn't dream of, and the flickering street lamps could only cast light on so much. Gotham was dying in a way, it was a slow progress but over time the city streets had been stained red.
It had changed since he was gone. It all came back to him.
James snorted, his anger almost amusing. He hated to think of him, what had happened, but it was inevitable. He had woven himself into the legacy of Gotham, and now that he was gone the city was steadily unraveling. He was also the reason why James Gordon-Grayson, only son of the two most infamous bat protégés, was camped out on a roof spying on a girl. She was talented, looting and stealing all night, and although James would never admit it but he had almost lost her a few times.
"I never took you for the daydreaming type." A feminine voice purred from behind him.
James instantly kicked himself. She was good, taking his distraction to flip it around on him. "How long have you known?"
She chuckled. "Since you started following me." There was a click of heels and the voice came closer. "Come on, you don't think I'm that naive do you?"
He turned, the moons rays his only light. "You're sharp."
"Of course I am." She sound semi offended. "Don't forget who trained me."
How could James forget? Everything led back to him. "I need your help."
The girl was facing away from him, arms resting on the railing of the roof. In the lights of the city, James could only see her silhouette. "I'm not much of a team player."
James sighed; he knew this wouldn't be easy. "Come on Kat."
The girl turned, and he cringed at how strongly she resembled her parents. She was beautiful, an instant ten with large emerald eyes and full red lips. Her skin was pale, hair long and black. She was the perfect mix of both mother and father. She wore a tight black leather suit like her mother had, with the signature cat ear helmet and glasses in place and long black glove with the claws. There were only two things reminiscent of her father on her, the black cape that billowed around her shoulders and the utility belt slung around her petite waist.
Kat arched a dark brow. "What do you want, Grayson?"
"Something's going down; something big is going to happen. Gotham can't make it much longer."
She shrugged. "Gotham seems fine in my book."
"You only hang out in the shady part of town. Of course things seem good to a cat burglar."
"It's world class master jewel thief, actually." She corrected.
James rubbed his temple. This was a bad idea. Katarina Wayne-Kyle might have been the daughter of Batman, but she was Catwoman's child too and had acquired her mother's love of the thrill of stealing. She was a good kid, only sixteen years old to his nineteen. She had only been going out as the Claw for a few years, but she had a reputation. "It's about him." James said reluctantly. "Them."
Her face froze, features shocked. "What do you mean?" She asked, cool composure broken.
"I was looking over the case again, and things didn't add up. I need you special set of…talents."
She grinned coyly. "You flatter me."
It was no secret that Kat had not only the slipperiest fingers, but she had inherited her mother's wits and fathers brain too. She seemed perfect, but James knew she was far from it. There were things about her that he preferred not to think about. Their relationship was rocky at best, this fragile flirtatious layer hiding the true feelings.
"Help me. The night they vanished, things don't add up. I think we can finally sort things out. It's been six years Kat, long enough."
She sighed, leaning against the railing, eyes dissecting James. "How can I trust you?"
That's the question that he was hoping to avoid. He knew how she felt about the incident, but he had blindly charged past it. "You can't. But just think, your parents and my mother disappeared that night. Put aside your differences and help me."
She pulled a whip off the belt, snapping it in the air. "Meet me here tomorrow. I need time."
Before James could respond, she was gone, flipping over the railing and disappearing into the night once more. He stared at the space she had just vacated. Their past had been rough, filled with a lot of hurt feelings, and he was surprised she had even listened to him in the first place. Looking out over the city, he steeled himself. He had others to recruit.
XXX
The quiet whirl of her motorcycle set a steady pace in the back of her mind. That had been interesting to say the least. She hadn't seen James very much since the incident, and she was perfectly okay with it. Did she blame him for what had happened? Partially. It was stupid, but she needed someone to blame in a way. She couldn't put what had happened on her parents shoulders, say it was their fault. James was the scapegoat. She could see it in his eyes though, that he believed he was responsible, but the wall she had built around herself prevented her from reaching out.
She turned sharply, the advanced bike reeling and then straightening. From underneath her helmet, a few stray strands of hair flew around her. She had gotten used to this feeling, the cape fluttering around her back, the subtle hum of the bike under her gloves. She had grown up in Wayne Manor, but it was too empty now, too foreign. Alfred, old and tired, lived there. She visited him every so often, because he had always been so kind. Tonight though, she wasn't going to see Alfred. She needed to go to the one place she avoided, the one place that held the answers.
She pulled into the secret entrance, bike skidding to a stop. She pulled off her helmet, shaking her hair out. The only sounds were water dripping in the huge cavern, the occasional screech and flutter of a bat. It reeks of them, their shadowy lives. She's quite as she makes her way to the large computer monitors, sitting down and beginning to hack. The systems are easy to go through. Her father may have gone out of the picture when she was six, but he had taught her a few tricks. Security was a little bit more relaxed too since the only one to occupy the cave was…
Damian.
She hadn't even thought of him. After the incident, the 'bat family' had split, gone their separate ways. Damian Wayne was Batman now, a fact that she despised but dealt with. She had been lucky enough to get her father's cape and belt, Damian had gotten the suit itself, as well as the title and legacy. It was fair, she supposed. He was the first child of Bruce, even if his mother was Talia. Ugh, the thought of the assassin and her father Ra's made Kat's blood run cold. She and her half-brother didn't get along very well, but they both had a mutual respect that came with blood ties.
"Look at what the cat dragged in." A male voice said. Though deeper and more tired than she remembered it, it was a voce hard to forget. The lilting accent, the emphasized syllables, she had heard it a million times.
"Cat puns, classic." She turned, a sarcastic smile playing on her face.
Damian shrugged his shoulders, the fabric of the Batman suit rising and falling. It was hurt, to see him in that costume. Bruce had been a good father, despite everyone's hesitations. When she was younger, she had often eavesdropped in on her parents, and heard him saying he wanted to be the best he could. He was. It was hard though, he wasn't the affectionate type, but then again her mother wasn't either, but they did their best. It had been like living in a giant extended family, an odd and semi crazy family.
Dick and Barbara lived over in Bludhaven, but when James was of age he had moved to Gotham to be the Robin to a starting out Damian. It had worked, in a sense. She had always been so jealous of him, but her mother told her there was nothing wrong with staying young, her time would come eventually. James had his father's dark hair, but his mother's eyes. He was an acrobat, but he could have been a computer genius if he wanted to be.
Stephanie and Tim had stayed in Gotham, and Stephanie was a lot like the aunt she never had. Jackson, Jack, was only two years older than her. He was blonde, with dark eyes and his mother's temperament. He was a lot easier to get along with then golden boy Grayson. He would have made a better Robin than James, he like his father, was more of a determined detective then the thrill seeker James was. Tim would have been Batman, he was Batman in everything but title, but had turned it down. He had Stephanie and Jack to think about.
Aloof Damian had gotten it after he had proved himself to Dick and Tim, but he was brash and everyone knew Tim would have been better. Some things never changed. Damian had yet to have kids, or even get a girlfriend. He was no doubt waiting for the perfect woman to create the ideal heir.
"What are you doing here?" He asked warily.
"I'm investigating." She replied shortly, turning around once more to face the screen. The click of her fingers on the keyboard and the silence of Damian making a constant patter that lulled her to a sense of rhythm.
"If they were out there, I would have found them." Damian said quietly. She hadn't needed to tell him what she was looking for, he knew there was only one reason she would come here. "I looked everywhere Katarina; I looked for weeks without stop." Damian Wayne would never admit defeat, but that quite revelation was as close as he would ever get.
"I talked to James." She finally confessed. "I led him around Gotham for a while; he actually thought I didn't notice him." She chuckled. "But he says that he's found something. If there's any chance of finding them, I need to explore it." She caught the look on Damian's face. "He didn't say what it was." She said, before he could ask.
"Keep me informed, Katarina." Damian said quietly. "I will keep my eyes peeled." He turned, the sound of his footsteps fading away.
She dropped her head to her arms, folded over the keyboard. This would be a long night.
XXX
"Keep your eyes on the target." Her father insisted. "It's going to be hard to shoot something that difficult if you aren't focused 110%."
She straightened, arm shaking with the effort of keeping the bowline taught. Sweat beaded her brow, trickling down her fair skin, but she barely noticed it. She had to impress, do her best 24/7. It was the only way she could keep her father's focus.
"Now, release." His gruff voice was calm. He was in him element; there was nothing he enjoyed more than the satisfying twang of her arrow as it left the bow, stretching away towards the target. With a satisfying thud, it hit the center of the bulls-eye. "See?" He asked. "You just have to shoot straight."
Her lips were in a tight, forced smile as she nodded. Keep up the act, it was important. "Got it."
Her father nodded, seemingly distracted. Olivia's heart fell. It was happening again. Her father was checking out, and she knew why. She wasn't wanted. She wasn't important enough to stay tuned into. Avalon was, but Avalon wasn't here anymore. It was a sore subject, one she didn't brush on, but the seventeen year old could feel its constant present haunting her.
Arms stiff from hours holding her bow, she relaxed her arms, leaning the large weapon against her legs. The quiver, loaded with trick arrows was heavy on her back but she ignored it. All around her was lush green fields, blocked off from the real world by thick foliage. It was the perfect escape for a billionaire like Oliver Queen and his family, but not many people knew what people happened behind the trees. There, he and wife, Dinah Lance-Queen, trained their kids in the art of crime fighting. It was an odd way to live, but Black Canary and Green Arrow wouldn't have it any other way. It was times like this that she couldn't stand the life they had chosen for her. Her father picked up his own bow, grunted in her general direction and walked away.
Rolling her eyes, she brought her own bow into the house, running up the massive staircase and into her room. Ignoring her mom's no weapons on the furniture rule; she threw her bow onto the bed and rushed into the bathroom, turning the faucet to full blast. Trying to scrub the feeling of worthlessness off of her, she racked her pale skin with her nails to no avail. She stared into the mirror, water dripping off her face. With short blonde hair with a slight curl and blue eyes, she was her mother's daughter. Avalon had gotten the long stick straight hair and green eyes; she was always their father's favorite.
Avalon. The name left a bad taste in her mouth. Avalon was perfect, everything she wanted to be. Avalon was intelligent, quick and a natural archer. She developed her mother's charming personality and father's skill. She had always taken all the praise and glory, right until the day she and her boyfriend had run off to join the Injustice Society. It was a good thing that her parents were retired, they wouldn't have been able to cope with fighting their eighteen year old favorite. Instead, they got to ignore her, seventeen and less than perfect Olivia Queen.
Olivia angrily shook her head, pulling off her now wet fingerless gloves and finger protectors before tossing them onto the marble sink. She needed to clear her head. Dusk was falling, Star City gently going to sleep. That's when the real trouble woke up. She snuck to her closet, pulling out the costume she had been working on. It consisted of a black skin tight leotard with a deep hood, black fishnets and knee high boots with tons of buckles and snaps. It was like a second skin, nice and worn. She pulled on a fresh pair of fingerless gloves to protect her palms from the bow and slid on her black domino mask. The various wrists, finger and arm guards took even longer to put on. Avalon had always teased her about the outfit sketches, but it was better than the skanky ensemble her sister wore now.
She easily got out the window, the almost night time air chilling her to the point of relaxation. That was, until she saw a figure on her roof. It was familiar, but she instantly crossed her arms. The figure closed the gap, standing close enough for her to make out a black trench coat and faceless face.
"Nico Sage." She smirked. "You're a peeping tom now?"
There was a deep chuckle. "If I was peeking, it would be on Avalon."
Instantly, she recoiled, heart burning. Nico should know that, he was a family friend; he knew how much it would hurt. Catching her expression, he sighed.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone there."
She just narrowed her eyes and looked away. "You're right, you shouldn't have."
"Olive." His voice was quite. "I'm sorry. Please, don't pout."
"I don't pout." She mumbled.
He laughed. "Right, because you, the great Olive Archer, are above pouting."
It was his nickname for her, the Olive Archer. He found it hilarious, using her dads name to make her seem like a joke. Nico Sage rarely joked though. His mother, Huntress, was almost as bad as Batman in the brooding and his father, The Question, had passed away of cancer. Though Nico was Avalon's age, he always had preferred Olivia, which suited her fine. She missed the familiarity of his warm brown eyes when he was in costume, but when she focused on the mop of brown hair she could picture his face, and not the vacant mask.
"What do you want, Sage?"
"It's Query." He corrected.
"And you make fun of me? At least Olive Archer isn't even my real name, yours is a direct knock off of your dads."
"Whatever." She could see his eye roll. "I need you to come with me."
She raised a blonde brow. "Midnight rendezvous? How scandalous. Why?"
"I got a call, from Gotham city."
She snorted. She wasn't antisocial, but she didn't like the group of people who resided in Gotham. They were a broody, moody, egotistical bunch. Not really her type. After being judged and compared to Avalon for so long, she had developed a tough exterior. Some thought her aloof, or haughty, but she had to wear a mask other than her insecurities. "What? Do they want us to come polish their shoes?"
"No, I got a call from a friend."
"Awe, did you finally get a girlfriend?" She sneered.
"Nope. But we are going to meet a girl." Nico replied evenly. For an unknown reason, her heart stung for a second. Nico was attractive, it didn't surprise her that she had female contacts in Gotham; it only surprised her that it the fact bothered her so much. "Come on, I can see it in your eyes. You're itching to get out of Avalon's shadow, away from your parents. Help me out in Gotham and then come home."
She looked from her open bedroom window towards the muscular built boy. "Okay." She resolved. "Let me get some things."
In a few moments, she had packed the quintessential bag, complete with extra clothes, knives and the money from her father's lockbox. Grabbing her bow and quiver, she slid out of the window once more. Nico was gone, but she knew where to find him. Picking her way around various security cameras and traps, she made her way to the gate. Running and vaulting over it, she landed easily on the other side. A little ways down the hill was Star City, its lights bright and gleaming. Nico was waiting for her in a small alley a few blocks into the city.
"It's about time." He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. "What, did you pack everything you own?"
She sneered and he gestured to a dark crevice between buildings. They slid in, an old piece of wood falling away, revealing an abandoned building. In it, was two motorcycles. Was it safe to leave their bikes here, in the middle of the Star City slums? No. But after their last adventure Olivia hadn't had time to take hers home. She slid onto the black one, the familiar green arrow that was painted up the side her own personal touch. Nico's was simple, unlike the fancy bikes rode in Gotham. He looked at her and she nodded, the roar of their bikes heralding their exit of Star City.
XXX
"So, do we have a deal or not?"
The words hung in the air like the thick smoke that floated from the various cigars and pipes that dangled from the lips of Gotham's most notorious crime lords. They all stared, beady eyes focused on the mysterious person that sat casually at the head of their table. It wasn't often they had meetings like this, and even rarer did someone who wasn't invited show up. Black Mask growled, leaning back in his chair.
"Why should we trust you? You ain't even an adult."
The lean figure chuckled, face still shadowed, and pale hands resting on the table. "Age is only a number." He said calmly. "If you really want what I have to offer, you'll see past whatever concerns you have."
"Should we trust em, boss?" A thug leaned over, beefy hands clasped. "He looks kinda sketchy…"
"How much are you asking?" Black Mask questioned, ignoring his hired man. He was no importance right now.
"I'm not asking for money." He said sharply, eliciting surprised looks. "What I need is a lot more valuable. Knowledge, information, that's my price."
This newcomer, dressed in pair of black cargo pants tucked into combat boots, a tight red armor like shirt that was padded and a leather jacket, seemed to be a little bit…crazier than the men who attended the meetings. He wasn't a cop that was a fact. There was no way a cop could find or get into this elite ring. Whoever he was, he had ties, special connections.
"What kind of info?" Black Mask grunted.
"The location of the Joker, no one's seen him in years. If anyone knew where he was, it would be you guys."
Black Mask laughed a mirthless sound behind the black, cracked covering of his face. "You got moxy kid, you know that? Why would we possibly tell you where the Joker is?"
"Because I have what you want. And you won't get it any other way." The response was so cool, so immediate that it was hard to believe that it hadn't been practiced a thousand times. He leaned forward, his pale neck sliding into view. He was almost deathly white, bordering on the cusp of too pale to be normal.
"Who are you?" Black Mask finally asked.
This kid was either devoted to his cause, or completely insane. There was no response for a second, just the shuffling of a card deck. After a whirring sound, a card shot out of the darkness, embedding itself into the thug who had spoken earlier. Black Mask instantly yanked it out, turning to examine the thin sheet of metal.
"Another stupid gimmick in Gotham." Someone muttered.
The infamous crime boss ignored it though. The kid had just killed his best man, with a metal playing card. That didn't go down in his territory. He turned to face the mysterious and unwelcome visitor, but the seat had been vacated. He had disappeared as soundlessly as he had arrived. He flipped the card in his hands, the blood dripping onto his fingers, staining it red. Printed onto the card in black ink was a suite, and Black Mask was smart, he knew it to be much more than a weapon. It was a calling card, a statement of sorts. Whoever the owner was, he meant business. He read the word over and over, committed the simple surface to memory.
Ace.
XXX
He perched outside, silent as he watched the grounds below him. This was what he loved, the rush of his brain pumping out scenario after scenario as it analyzed the situation. The coppery smell of blood, the sound of bones breaking under his fists didn't appease him, didn't draw him in. It was this thoughtful process that made it all worthwhile.
Black Mask and his gang had been making deals in the area recently, and Jack was ready to bust them. That was, until he saw an unfamiliar boy slid out. He was tall, with a slight build. Not the kind of guy Black Mask would keep around. This was new, something exciting. James and Dick before him were the pure skill and trick coated fighters, Jason the persistence of Bruce, but Jack was like his dad. He had no problem being the brains, even if he wasn't a strong or skilled as James, or even Kat. And he knew that whoever this guy was, he was trouble.
Jack easily jumped off the roof, landed silently behind the boy, who moved rapidly. Probably on the run from Black Mask. Jack deduced. He crept behind him, keeping pace. The first thing to do would be to take him out so that there wasn't a chance that his weapon could be pulled, but it would be difficult to do so. In the dim light, he gripped his inherited Bo staff tighter. It was familiar and seen two generations of Drake's, and served them both faithfully.
"Don't take him down." A low voice whispered in his ear. He instantly spun, staff whipping out, but instead of making contact, there was only the hushed sound of someone jumping and grabbing the end of the staff, jamming it back into his gut. "I always pegged you as the more level headed type." The voice growled and Jack clutched his aching section and waited for the breath to come back.
"Was that necessary?" He panted.
There was a laugh. "No, but it always feels good to get a punch in on the world's greatest jr. detective."
Jack straightened up, leaning on his staff. "You're a cheap shot, Grayson."
James laughed, pushing his onyx locks away from his forehead. "You should have known."
He seemed comfortable in the blue and black outfit, his banter light, but forced. To the normal eye, he seemed completely at ease, but Jack had learned to take appearances at face value. His breathing was slightly too quick, posture a centimeter too rigid to be natural. "Have a rough night?" Jack asked.
"I ran into Kat. She made me look like an idiot."
Jack didn't even try to contain the snort. Whoever he had been chasing before James had interrupted was long gone. "She has a tendency of doing that." He paused. "So, did you come all the way from Bludhaven to visit the old family?" James had moved back to Bludhaven after…it had happened.
"I think we need to try harder." James said seriously. "I mean, I think I have a lead."
Jack sighed, twirling his Bo staff until it leaned against the wall before crossing his arms over his chest. "And you need my analytical mind?"
"You're the smartest person I know. If anyone's a detective, it's you."
"Why?" Jack said, letting the words hang in the air. "What happened then ruined the lives of many. Bringing it back up could be a serious mistake."
An image of a crying Kat aged six clinging to his mother's arm in the middle of the night flashed into his head. Yes, it was a sore subject.
"It's different this time. James insisted. "I have a new take on solving the problem."
"Ha. The pretty boy came up with an idea? Let's see the brain under that brawn." He challenged.
James didn't seem particularly fond of that comment, but he pushed on. "I'm trying to assemble a team. I think that we could do more together."
"Right, a group of adolescents can do what the entire Justice League failed to do."
James looked mildly angered. "Hey, you're dad was with the Teen Titans. Teen hero teams work."
Jack looked at him straight in the eye. "We're Gotham kids, unfriendly and pretty much unwanted in the hero community. So what are we going to do, call up the newest Wonder Girl? We're not exactly Young Justice material." He snapped.
"That's why I've assembled our own team." James said. "Just here me out, and if it's too much for you big brain, I won't beg you to join. But at least listen to it logically."
Jack sighed, closing his eyes to steel himself. He would regret this later. "Okay. Unload on me your brilliant plan."
James smirked slightly. "Do you remember Olivia Queen from Bruce's old charity galas and events?"
It had been awhile, but Jack definitely remembered being snubbed by the blonde archer years ago. He had felt bad after hearing about her sister, but there was really nothing he could do. She wasn't exactly the friendly type.
"She and the Query are riding into Gotham tonight. Olivia is one of the best archers around, besides her sister."
"Has she shown any signs of developing her mother's…voice?"
"Thankfully, no. We only need one sonic screamer, and Black Canary is good for the part."
Jack nodded, digesting. He liked Nico Sage, he was smart. While he may have not been as on par as his late father had been, Nic had done well. Well, except for when his temper flared. He definitely was reminiscent of his mother then. He had a hard life though, with his dad dying of cancer and all. Helena was already a moody and violent vigilante, but it had gotten worse recently Jack had read.
"Who else?" He questioned.
"You're the brains I need, and I can help as well." James paused uncomfortably. "There's someone else. Do you remember the murder committed by the Joker a few years back?
"Which one? The pyscho must have set a record."
"The Sarah Laughlin case. It happened over in Bludhaven."
Jack shook his head. "Not particularly. What about it?"
"Years ago the Joker had a partner. Harleen Quinzel went from being his doctor at Arkham to his accomplice, Harley Quinn."
Jack frowned, getting antsy. He didn't want to stand here and rehash the past all night. "Yes, Harley Quinn, I remember. She died in a failed Joker bomb."
James smiled slightly. "That's where you're wrong. That's what Batman wanted you to think."
Instantly, the logical mind kicked into overdrive. "She faked her death. Why?"
"She wanted an out from the Joker, begged Batman. After her death was faked she was reevaluated and deemed sane."
"That makes no sense. From what I've read, Harley Quinn loved the Joker to the point where she would die for him."
James nodded slowly. "Right, except she found one thing she could love more…"
It clicked. "She was pregnant. Was it Jokers?"
"Yeah, she moved to Bludhaven, took the name Sarah Laughlin, got a secretary job and kept her head down. Until Joker found her, and murdered her."
"It was the perfect crime." Jack thought out loud. "She was already dead in everyone's mind. How'd he find her?"
James shrugged. "No clue."
"And the baby?"
"Gone. Batman found Joker not too long after her death, but he had no clue she had even been pregnant."
Jack shifted his weight. "And what does any of this have to do with me, or your superhero squad?"
James nodded his head in the direction the young adult had run off. "Him. That's the Joker's son, I know it."
"Why'd you let him go?" Jack asked.
"I need him. If he's Jokers kid, he'll be more inclined to lean towards crime. He could be valuable. But we need to approach him on our own, not knock him down in an alley."
"So what's next?"
James stretched, preparing to leave. "Meet at the Bat Signal tomorrow night. We're going to find them."
Jack turned to walk away before he could watch James leave. It was an interesting conception. The son of two super villains gallivanting around Gotham with the finest Bat protégées. But not even any two criminals, Harley Quinn and the Joker. Hm, it would give him something to ponder for the next twenty four hours none the less. He let the Gotham shadows envelop him while he did what he did best, analyze.
So… There you go! Long, maybe boring, but the stage is set! Where did the heroes go? How will the odd ball group get together? Hmm… Perhaps you can find out if you like/favorite/review. Tell me what you think!