AN: Hey there, this is the sequel to "A Fine Line." It can absolutely be read on its own – the other story just provides a bit more information. This story is a collaboration with my partner, Jack, who doesn't have an account. Each segment within chapter is from the perspective of a different Batkid. As a disclaimer, I don't own any of the DC characters that you see, or the Young Justice universe, which this is set in. Thanks for reading; all feedback is appreciated.

Chapter One

It had been a long night. Jason was sore and cold and extremely tired. This whole not killing thing took a lot more energy out of him than he had remembered. He ran a hand through his slightly unkempt hair, his palm sliding wearily over his face were a mask should have been. Jason felt naked and exposed in civilian clothes, but when Oracle called a meeting, you answered your summons or faced the wrath of Big Sister. The location of the meeting still confused him, but he was sure Barbara had her reasons; she always did.

He slunk into the diner, noticing only a bored, tired looking woman in a waitress's apron manning the counter. The corners of his mouth tipped into a smug smile. He was the first one here – which meant for once he'd be the one to get the most coveted seat – the one with his back to the wall and eyes on the door. Dickie was going to be pissed.

"Just you?" the woman asked, reaching her hand down for a menu. Jason shook his head.

"Big table," he said holding each hand on either side of his head. The waitress frowned a little, taking in Jason's battered leather jacket and clearly well loved jeans. He figured he was being sized up, to see if his tip was going to be worth the hassle. She must have decided he was good enough because she flicked her hand towards the back of the room.

"Help yourself," she grabbed a stack of menus and followed him to the table. "Coffee, hon?"

Jason nodded, his hands rubbing over his face again. "Yes," he groaned. "Lots." He looked up to meet her eyes through his fingers. "I mean, yes, please. The other people coming are going to want some too." If he was going to attempt this good-boy gig, the least he could do was attempt to use the manners his mother had tried to teach him when she wasn't tweaking out on something.

The waitress returned less than a minute later, setting a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. Jason reached for the sugar and began pouring. The waitress watched him a moment with her eyebrow cocked.

"How many you expecting?" she asked, still watching wearily as Jason kept pouring.

He placed the sugar back on the table, not in the least bit ashamed. With now free hands he began ticking off silent names on his fingers.

"At least six more," he told her. "But only four more coffees. Might as well have the other stuff waiting. Can I get a hot chocolate and a tea?"

"Uh-huh," the woman replied, still eyeing his heavily sugared coffee skeptically. As she turned to leave, the bell on the front door jangled. A slender young woman with chin length black hair held the door open as a redhead in a wheelchair glided her way in followed by a chattering blonde. The She-Bats had arrived. Barbara smiled at him tiredly as she wheeled herself over to their table.

"Jason," she greeted warmly. He nodded towards her, and edged himself over slightly as the darker haired girl seated herself next to him with out a sound.

"Hey, Cass," he said quietly as the waitress returned with a tray full of mugs.

"Who gets what?" the woman asked with a sigh. The woman glanced around at the women who had entered. Barbara with her clean, sharp looking sweater and well-kept hair, Cass with neatly pressed black jeans, and Stephanie sporting a spotless purple pea coat. The waitress must have decided that these three made up for Jason's back streets of Gotham appearance because she smiled at them.

Cass gratefully reached her hands out to take the mug of tea while the other two women received their coffee with smiles and thanks. "And the other three?"

"Oh, they should be here any minute," the blonde, Stephanie, offered with a wave of her hand. She leaned around from Cassie's other side to smile at Jason. "Damian'll appreciate the fact that you have his coco waiting. The little princeling has been getting moody again. I think its because he misses me." Jason didn't even try to hide the roll of his eyes.

"Or it's because the Big Guy is off world again, for the second time this month," Jason offered, a teasing smirk on his face.

Stephanie stuck her tongue out before smiling back and happily adding cream and sugar to her coffee.

Jason watched Barbara as she slowly stirred her own drink. She was already lost in her own head. After a practiced nonchalant sip of his coffee, he turned his eyes more fully to the woman at the end of the table.

"So what's the deal, Babs?" he asked, steaming mug pressed against his temple. "Why here?"

"I needed to get out," she shrugged, a smile on her lips. "And besides, Steph was craving some diner waffles." Stephanie nodded unapologetically and hailed the waitress to place her order. She ordered for everyone else too. When it came to food, this group could be pretty predictable. Before long, the table was covered in food. Jason, having quickly finished his own bacon was eying the three slices on Tim's plate greedily. The other three still hadn't arrived, by the way Barbara kept shifting, he figured this might get interesting when they finally did show.

"This was a mistake," he caught Barbara saying under her breathe. Both he and Cass turned to look at her.

"I could go look?" Cassie offered, all ready starting to lift herself from her seat, but Barbara stopped her with a wave.

"No, it's fine, they'll be here. It's just…" Jason watched Barbara carefully. He knew she and Dick had been fighting again and their on-again-off-again relationship was definitely in the off mode at the moment, but he could tell it was something more than that. He drained his coffee cup before setting it down and reaching for Dick's. No sense in letting good coffee get cold. He was about to take it when he remembered cold was exactly how Dick preferred it. He hesitated, torn between wanting to piss his self-proclaimed big brother off, and not wanting to agitate Barbara further. There was something going on. Jason reached for Timmy's mug instead; if he couldn't have his bacon, he'd settle for his coffee.

"Wanna tell me what's really going on?" he asked seriously. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stephanie flinch, her fork pausing half way to her mouth. Beside him, Jason could feel Cass stiffen ever so slightly.

Barbara sighed heavily, running her hands over her face in a way Jason recognized all too well. He wondered silently if it was a trait they had all picked up from the Big Guy. She paused to smile at the waitress who refilled their coffee cups, even the one in front of Tim's empty seat. Once the woman had left, Barbara turned back to him, looking much older than her twenty-two years.

"Wait," she said heavily. "Just wait until the boys are all here."

It had been a long night. Three attempted muggings, two attempts at grand theft auto, and one group of rag tag jewel thieves with surprisingly strong left hooks. Then again, it was always a long night for Dick Grayson when Batman was on League assignment a galaxy or two away. Nightwing sighed, hearing the crackle of chatter in his earpiece as he was finishing the final knot around a group of would-be jewel thieves. There had been no way for him to leave one of the two behind, so he'd had no choice but to bring them both out on patrol.

"Would you two please, please, stop fighting," he begged the two other boys on his frequency. He could hear both Tim and Damian arguing on the rooftop above him. It was nothing serious, he knew, but it was more than enough to give him a splitting headache. With one last tug of the rope, Nightwing turned his back on the thieves, pulled out his grappling gun, and shot a line back up to the top of the building.

Both Damian, with his hood pulled up over his close cropped hair, and Tim, were standing with their arms cross glowering at each other.

"That costume," Damian began, "Is by far the most ridiculous thing I have every seen."

Dick looked sideways at Tim's newest costume design. He cringed slightly as he took in what appeared to be feathers lining his arms before furrowing out into a cape behind him. If Dick was honest, it did look a little…overdramatic… but he had made a few of his own costume mistakes and wasn't going to be the one to bring Tim down.

"It is not!" Tim fired back, flicking his wrists out to make the feathers go taut. "Look, these feathers are specially designed to turn my cape into a glider. It's the closest we can come to actually flying." Damian eyed the feathers wearily, his glower remaining.
"I wouldn't be caught dead in something so preposterous. You're like the new Icarus – I can only hope you share his fate."

Dick rubbed both hands over his own face roughly. He wished, for probably the hundredth time that day, that Damian spoke like a normal eleven year old; maybe if he did, Tim would be able to resist arguing with the kid. As it was, neither one of them could help themselves. He could see Tim about to give some type of retort when he held up his hands to stop them.

"Enough," he pleaded. "We're late as it is."

Tim flicked his wrist for a second time and his feathers relaxed as he checked his watch.

"Babs is going to kill us," he announced. "We were supposed to be there more than thirty minutes ago."

"Tt," Damian replied, finally uncrossing his arms from his chest. "Todd has probably already seized the prime seat as well." He was of course referring to the only seat at any table where you could have both your back to the wall, and your eyes on the door. It was a thing with them. The only time it was a non-issue was when they were all eating with Bruce – and then there was no question in anyone's mind who got to have the good seat.

Dick bent down to scoop up the large duffle bag at the younger boy's feet, swinging it on to his shoulder. It contained civvies for the three of them, along with Damian's helmet for Dick's motorcycle. Both Dick and Tim's bikes were stashed in an alleyway not too far off.

"Let me worry about Barbara," he told them, firing off his grappling gun. "And Robin," he said, his hand resting on Damian's shoulder, "try to behave." Dick was just about to jump from the building ledge when Tim stopped him.

"Wait! Let me show you how the glider works." The teen wiped his wrists out hard brining the improvised wings to attention, took a few steps back, and then with a running leap threw himself from the building. Both Dick and Damian stared down after him.

"When he does break his ankles," Damian started firing off his own grapple gun. "You can bet I won't be offering to help him with his chores around the manor." The boy swung himself down from the building and into the alley; Dick following close behind. He'd have to tell Tim later he was actually pretty impressed with his new wings.

He was the last one to make it to the bikes, the other two sat, wordlessly glaring at each other. Whatever it was he'd missed, Dick's headache was grateful for it. Bending down, he unzipped the bag and started tossing jeans, shirts and reinforced jackets at the other two boys. With Damian's helmet, they hadn't had room for spare shoes, so Dick was just glad all of their boots could easily pass as motorcycle shoes. He kicked the steel toes off to quickly change out one pair of pants for another.

After they'd dressed, and Dick had crammed their Kevlar plates, titanium weave bodysuits, and yes, even Tim's feathers into the now much heavier duffle bag, he handed over Damian's helmet. It had been a gift for Damian's latest birthday: black with streaks of yellow and green flying back from the safety visor, a small, barely noticeable little bird soaring near the crown of his head.

"Safety first, Babybird." He pulled his own helmet off the back of the bike, and smiled as he pulled it snuggly over his head and face. It felt good to key in the ignition, the machine coming to life at his touch. Tim kicked his own bike into gear and started off towards the diner.

"Do try not to drive like you're Pennyworth's age this time, Grayson," Damian told him. He could feel the younger boy tucking himself on the back of the bike, his arms wrapping around him, and gripping on to his jacket with gloved hands. Bruce, who knew how Dick actually liked to drive, had insisted Damian always wear full gear before getting onto the back of Dick's bike. Funny, Dick thought as he peeled his way out of the ally. How Bruce had trusted him on a modified bike when he was Damian's age, but was uncomfortable with the littlest Robin even being a passenger. He laughed to himself as he revved the engine, hitting the gas to catch up to Tim. Dick could feel Damian's grip getting tighter, but he could also feel what he swore must have been the rumble of laughter coming from the boy. Not that Damian Wayne would ever admit to such folly. Dick felt himself let out a whoop of excitement as he pushed the bike faster. Maybe tonight wouldn't be such a bad night after all.

It had been a long night. Or at least, it had been a long last four hours. Barbara Gordon tried to sit calmly, tried to sip her coffee without shaking. Both Stephanie and Cass had some idea about what was going on. They had both returned to the tower as soon as Barbara had accidentally started cursing a blue streak into their com-links.

Things had been going fine. The girls had been on patrol – and she had eyes on both Jason flying solo, and Dick out with Tim and Damian. The city was being well cared for in Bruce's absence. All things considered, it had been a relatively quiet night in Gotham. Sure, there had been your standard criminals, but Barbara was willing to call it a good night when none of the Arkham residents were running amuck. Everything had been running smoothly. That was until Barbara's computer had started pinging. It was a warning, but not just any warning. Barbara's computer only made this particular sound when some spyware she'd installed on few less than reputable websites was triggered.

"What do you got for me, baby?" she had whispered, minimizing all other windows. Her eyes had briefly scanned the page, hitting every highlighted word like a gunshot. Ransom. Reward. Venom. Damian Wayne. She had had to read through the message thread three times before she started finding the was coded – it was always coded – but in the three years Dick had gone on hiatus, Barbara had learned all of his hacking tricks, and then came up with a fair number of her own. She hadn't been able to make sense of all of it, but what she could was alarming enough. That's when she had started swearing. That's when the girls came back, and when Barbara hacked into the comm frequencies of all four of the batboys. She had been able to calm herself enough to serenely inform them that their presence was requested tonight at the diner at West and 12th. She had phrased it as a request, but all of them knew she wasn't giving them a choice. Dick had tried to argue with her, but when Jason, with all of their comms patched together promised he'd be there, Dick wasn't left with much of a choice. All of them would come.

She could feel Jason's eyes on her as he listened to Stephanie chatter. Barbara was grateful, she knew Steph was talking to cover for her; she kept thinking up new topics so Jason wouldn't have time to start asking questions. The waitress made eye-contact with Barbara, before flicking her eyes to the extra empty seats; a bowl of cereal with milk waiting, beside it what had once been bacon, eggs, and toast – but was now only eggs and toast, and the small half-dollar pancakes smothered in fruit that Damian would never admit he loved. Barbara just smiled with a shrug and the waitress moved on, placing herself back at the very front of the diner.

The slight tinkling of bells attached to the door was the next thing to startle Barbara from her thoughts. All three of her missing boys wandered in. Dick strode in first with his easy grace, soft leather jacket, but a newly formed burse on his right cheek. Tim, was already eyeing every possible exit and entrance in the diner, even though he'd been here at least fives times before. And Damian, with his inexplicable air of superiority, so completely out of place on an eleven-year-old boy.

Dick came over, smiled at the seat Jason had claimed. He let both Tim and Damian slide into the booth, before plopping himself down on the end and turning his blue eyes on Barbara.

"You rang?" he asked with a grin. He was trying to pacify her. Trying to make up for the fact that they hadn't spoke outside of mission briefings for the last week and a half. Barbara met his gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"You're late," she told him simply. There was no way a smile was going to calm her nerves. Not this time.

"Sorry, Babs," Tim said, interrupting the staring contest before it had time to start. "We got held up, and then I wanted to show off my new cost-" Barbara could hear the thud of Damian kicking Tim under the table.

"His new shoes," the smaller boy supplied, eyeing the waitress. He reached out for his hot chocolate, sighing seriously when he realized it had gone cold.

"Really?" Stephanie asked as she leaned around both Cass and Jason. "Shoes, D? That's the best you could come up with?"

Damian turned his sharp eyes on her before looking down his nose at the plate in front of him.

"Really, Brown? You ordered me something off the children's menu? And you're chastising me?"

Barbara opened her mouth to try and rein this meeting in before it got completely out of control, but Jason stopped her with a laugh.

"If you're really that offended, kid, you can order something else. I'll eat it."

Damian sighed more deeply than Barbara though pancakes really deserved, but he did pick up his fork.

"No," he said. "It's here. I might as well eat it."

She watched as the three began eating, wanting to start right away, but not wanting to at the same time. If only for this brief moment in time, she could pretend that they were some type of normal. But that was a lie.

"We have a problem," she heard herself say before she had even realized she was going to. All six pairs of eyes turned their attention to her. Dick's slid sideways to the waitress, but she was ignoring them completely.

"Here, Babs?" he asked, a warning in his voice. But Barbara knew that it had to be here. It had to be somewhere open. Somewhere were Dick would think twice before making a scene. She nodded.

"There's been some talk on the Web. A few sites we look after. There's something going down, and it revolves around a kidnapping." She couldn't stop her eyes from moving to Damian. He was a brat, and full of this anger Barbara couldn't even begin to understand, but sitting there, watching him with a mouth full of pancakes, she knew without a doubt that anyone of the people at this table would give their lives to keep him safe. The strong clearing of Dick's throat tore her back to reality.

"I really don't think this is something that everyone needs to hear, Babs," he said bluntly. His eyes were focused only on her, refusing to look to his side, to where Damian sat.

"All of them have every right to know when a threat has been - "

"Barbara," he interrupted, his voice trying to imitate the commanding calm of Bruce – and failing. "You don't know how credible this is and bringing panic-"

"Excuse me?" she said, taking her turn at interrupting. "You don't think I looked into it? You don't think that I would bring this up if it wasn't an issue?"

"I don't think you've done enough, no. Not if this is the first I'm hearing of -"

"Right. Because you're the end all be all aren't you?" Both of their voices were controlled whispers. Carrying no further than the seven people at the table. But the tension was a physical thing, hanging in the air.

Stephanie placed her arms down heavily on the table, temporarily distracting them both.

"Cover your ears, D," she said with a sigh. "Mommy and Daddy are fighting at the dinner table."

"…Again…" Tim and Cassie added simultaneously.

Both Barbara and Dick shared a look, and she nodded. He stood from his seat without a word, his hands moving towards the back of her chair as if to guide her out.

"I got it," she said sharply before rolling herself back from the table and towards the door. Dick turned to face the others, his hands coming up to grip the back of his neck.

"We'll be back," he said. "Order whatever else you want. Bruce is paying." He turned to follow Barbara to the front of the diner. Without a word he held the door for her and they both slipped out into the night.

Barbara led the way, bringing him away from the front door and over towards the back of the building.

"Look, Babs," Dick started, spreading his hands apologetically. "It isn't that I don't trust you, but you can't… you can't…" he trailed off, eyes moving to the ground.

"I can't let everyone know what's going on? I have to leave some people in the dark?" she asked, a bitter edge in her voice. Dick, eyes still on the pavement, scrubbed both hands over his face.

"I have already apologized for that. I did what I thought I had to do."

Barbara laughed, eyes burning into him.

"That's not how I run my team," she told him. His eyes flew up to meet hers, but he stayed silent. "Just because he's gone, doesn't mean you're automatically in charge."

"Barbara, I have been a part of this team a lot longer than-"

"You ran away," she almost yelled, her voice shaking with the effort of staying quiet. "You ran away for three years, Dick. Without a word to me, or Tim, or even Bruce. Everyone else might be able to let that one go, but I'm still a little pissed."

She could feel his eyes on her now, feel the way he was holding something back – something that probably would have hurt, and she wanted to do the same, but she couldn't. This particular fight had been brewing from the moment he'd walked away, and it had been eating her from the inside out the whole year and a half he had been back.

"You may not realize it," she continued, her voice growing calmer. "But I was the one who stepped up. I was second in command. Hell, half the time I was it," she laughed again, her arms wrapping around her body.

"I even had to boss Bruce around a few times. I was the one who had to talk him through the realization he had a ten-year-old son he'd never known about. I helped Tim through his first break-up, oh and the death of his father. I was there. Just because you're back, doesn't automatically make you the leader. Three years is a long time. Things change."

Barbara watched as Dick's shoulders dropped. She almost felt sorry for yelling at him. She was about to apologize for crossing a line when his eyes locked with hers, and then slid to her chair.

"I know…" he said, his voice sounding pained. "I know I let you down…and…"

"Are you serious?" she asked him, dumbfounded. "For the love of… I'm not talking about this goddamn chair!" she let herself yell. "I have done more good sitting," she paused, swallowing her anger down, bringing her voice down with it. "I have done more good sitting in this chair than I ever did flying over the roof tops with a target painted on my chest."

Barbara slipped her hands down to the wheels of her chair, pushing forward and back towards the door.

"There is a legitimate threat of kidnapping to deal with right now," she reminded him, her voice completely back to business. "I'm going back inside, and I'm going to let the rest of them know what's going on."

With her back to him she pushed herself a little further, willing herself not to cry. She was still angry, but she refused to bring that back into the diner. No one else should have to deal with her anger. It had been a very long night, and if this was any indication, it was only going to get longer.