A/N: Hello m'dears… I hope that the week has been a good one to you.
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"Why have you been keeping your visits with Crane a secret?" Bruce asked her again.
"Bruce..." Dick began saying, but Bruce cut him off before he could launch into what he knew was going to be a splendid speech for why there was a need for such secrecy.
"Dick," he grumbled the warning without looking at him. "Stay out of it."
Raya felt Dick's body go as taut as the chord in their grapnel guns. She angled her head around to look at him, meaning to reassure him with a smile, but her breath froze in her chest at the expression upon his face. There it is, she thought, her heart snagging on a beat. There's that look on his face, the one that always turns me into mush. All of his self-confidence and macho had dropped away and that boy (the one she'd known since they were nine) who was restless with his hunger and need to protect the people he loved had come shining through.
"Hey." She turned in his arms and stood on her tip toes to rub her cheek against his. For a moment she was that nine-year-old girl again, comforting her melancholy and moody best friend. "It's okay. We knew we were gonna have to tell him about me visiting Crane at some point."
Bruce watched the interplay in silence. There was something in the way Dick warmed whenever he was around Raya, the simple affection that glittered upon his face, in the depths of his eyes. It was love he saw there. Not the kind that sprang from passion or lust, but which was deep and true. It was the same thing he saw upon Raya's face. Bruce knew well that stronger than valor and vengeance and thicker than pride, was loyalty and love. And both of his children had a good deal more of each at twenty-seven than they'd had when they were nine.
"Raya..." Bruce's voice might have been smooth like silk, but there was an edge to it that hinted at emotions being kept tightly in check. "Stop hedging and start explaining why you and Dick have been keeping your visits with Crane a secret."
"We haven't been keeping the visits a secret," she began saying. Then she stopped and he saw her make a face. "Okay, we kinda have been keeping them secret..." she paused again; sighed. "But in our defense, we had good reason to keep the visits a secret."
"And that reason is?"
"We wanted to figure out exactly what Crane was wanting before we said anything to you about it for one thing," Dick said.
That made sense. It was logical and smart. Exactly what he'd taughtbthem to be.
"How many months has this been going on?"
"Ten," Raya said at the same time as Dick replied, "Sixteen."
"Sixteen?" Bruce gritted.
Raya gave Dick a look that said she was going to flay his hide when she got him alone. Dick smiled apologetically before saying, "Crane made his first request for Raya to become his doctor a little over a year ago. But she didn't start to visit him until the middle of January." To Raya, he said, "That better?"
"Not like it's going to make him any less displeased with us," she muttered. "But yes."
"Is Dick the only one who knew of your trips out to Arkham?"
"No," Raya said slowly. "Uncle Jim also knew I was going out to Arkham in order to see Crane."
Bruce wasn't surprised about Dick knowing about her traveling out to Arkham in order to visit Crane. Raya and Dick tended to be thick as thieves. That was why he encompassed him in the same burning stare he leveled at Raya. He was rewarded when he saw twin expressions of shame upon their faces. Knowing though that Jim Gordon had been aware she'd been going out to Arkham to see a man as dangerous as Jonathan Crane did take him aback.
"Jim didn't put a stop to your visits?"
Raya and Dick both heard the unspoken and he didn't tell me so I could put a stop to it? stamped below his verbally uttered question.
"Ah, well..."
"Raya..." he growled the warning.
She harrumphed softly. "He did forbid me from seeing Crane," she said finally. "He threatened to outright tell you about what I was doing if I didn't agree to stop visiting him." She flicked a look at him that Bruce interpreted as one of those mysterious feminine ones that no man, no matter how old he was or how intelligent, could interpret. "So I stopped visiting Crane."
Stopped visiting, he added silently. They were still communicating with each other, however. She kept that detail to herself. Don't need to wonder about where she learned that from.
"Why did you resume visiting Crane?"
"Crane's continued interest in Raya began to make Gordon suspicious and edgy," Dick told him. "He started flashing back upon all the other times Crane stalked her, wanting to get his hands on Inceptive."
"And he began to suspect that this was just another way for him to get his hands on the formula," he guessed.
"And on Raya," Dick said with a nod.
One dark brow arched. "
"When Crane started sending Raya flowers and chocolates and other types of unusual tokens, all with notes that conveyed his affection for her, it became clear this wasn't just about Inceptive." His arms tightened protectively about her. Bruce recognized the overt move as just being part of what made Dick the man he was. He protected his friends and family to the best of his ability. And Raya was as important to him as Alfred, Barbara, Tim, or Damian. "We knew there was something more to Crane's attention in her. It had all of our hackles up. So Gordon asked her to resume her visits..." he angled a pointed look down at Raya. "With supervision, of course."
"Hey," she chirped. "I allowed you to tag along."
"Allowed me..." Dick snorted. "As if I was giving you any choice in the matter."
Raya scoffed. "I so can outsmart you, bird boy." Her lips lifted into a smile that was all feminine superiority. "I ran the gauntlet, remember? Avoided you for one entire night."
"Only because you called Conner and had him fly you out of the city."
"Fight smarter," she quipped with a mischievous smile. "Not harder."
Dick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You cheated and that's all there is to it."
"And you should have told me about what was going on," Bruce interjected in a softly reproachful tone. "You should not have kept this a secret from me, Dick."
Dick's eyes lifted to meet Bruce's and Raya's flickered back and forth between them.
"I had things under control," he said calmly. "And didn't feel I needed to include you just at that moment in what was going on."
"You should have told me about Crane's having taken an interest in Raya," Bruce told him in a stern voice. "You should not have kept that to yourself."
"I am just as capable as you of protecting her, Bruce."
Raya could hear the razor sharp edge in Dick's voice, and knew it as the rise of a reckless and dangerous mood. Bruce recognized his son's tone as well. Knew that I'm as capable as you really meant you still don't see me as equal to you. Their eyes met; clashed. Spoke volumes. Raya could see a war was brewing between father and son. She shifted in Dick's arms and slid a hand to his face, drew his gaze down to hers.
"You're pissed at Jason and looking for a fight in order to release some of those pent up testosterone fueled emotions rumbling around inside you," she spoke gently now, told herself it was because she'd had enough of arguing with testy males for one night. "But taking your anger out on Bruce is not going to make you feel any better. Nor is it going to help the situation any."
"Ask me that after I get in a couple of good punches," he grumbled.
Raya rolled her eyes; harrumphed. "And I'm the one who will have to patch the both of you up once the fight is over. So let it go." Her voice dropped to a low, pleading whisper. "Please, Dick. Do this for me."
He studied her face silently. Most of her adrenaline had ebbed, and he saw exhaustion intermixed with sadness breaking through to haunt her face. Slippery tendrils of guilt poked away at the vestiges of anger still hammering at him. Unlike his brother, though, Dick did not keep hammering away at her. Oh no. He simply pulled her into a tight embrace and whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry, Rae."
"Don't be," she whispered back. "We've all had a very long night."
They are a close knit duo, Bruce thought as he watched them. The body language, the looks, the way in which unspoken thoughts were understood just screamed at him about how tightly integrated Dick and Raya were as a pair. Seventeen years and hundreds of dark and terrible times had forged a bond nothing and nobody could break. He stood there for a moment watching them as bats rustled and chirped overhead. Then he turned to head into the med bay.
"When you two manage to get yourselves settled," he called over his shoulder. "One of you can bring herself into the medical bay and explain just how it is that Crane knows about Inceptive still existing."
Raya and Dick traded mildly amused looks.
"Dog with a bone," Dick said with a slight smile.
"He deserves to know everything, Dick," Raya replied with a slight mew of distaste. "I mean, we technically have not been telling him the whole truth for the last sixteen months."
Dick rolled his eyes and muttered, "God forbid that he gets a taste of how it feels when someone neglects to tell him something until they feel it imperative for him to know."
"Dick…" Raya began but Dick placed his fingers over her lips to silence her. He didn't want to argue with her about Bruce's propensity for keeping things close to the vest. Not at that moment at least.
"Let's just go and answer his questions, okay?"
When she nodded they turned and joined Bruce in the small grotto. Raya immediately headed to the sink.
"Bruce," she said without turning. "I'll help with getting your top off. I don't wanna wrench that arm or reopen those puncture wounds."
Just because he'd decided to concede to his body's need for medical attention did not mean he was going to give in easily. Bruce stripped off his top, gritting his teeth as the movement shot white hot pain across his chest and throughout his injured arm. He knew his act of defiance was nothing but a case of sheer stubbornness fueled by testosterone driven ego. Balling the ruined top up, he dropped it on the floor and sat on the edge of the medical bed. Raya turned, stared at him, a wet rag dripping a puddle upon the steel floor. Unsure if she was amused or annoyed by his obduracy, she simply frowned at him.
"You should have expected that he wasn't going to be completely cooperative about this," Dick said dryly.
"I think I'm being completely cooperative about this."
"Oh, really?" Sarcasm dripped like acid as Raya indicated his arm. "Then what part of I'll help with getting your top off to ensure that we don't injure your arm further did you not hear me say?"
"The cuts are not bleeding, imp."
"Check again," Dick suggested.
Bruce looked down and saw that the five puncture wounds from where Crane delivered his last lethal dose of toxin were oozing thin trickles of crimson. Swearing foully, Bruce took hold of the dry cloth she'd laid over her shoulder and pressed it against his arm. He'd have sawed his tongue in half before admitting that his arm was throbbing like a bad tooth. He looked up at her, saw her lips were thinned into a clear line of disapproval.
"The wounds are not bleeding all that much," he told her testily.
"But they are bleeding," Dick helpfully pointed out. "Which was kinda why she wanted to help you with taking your top off."
He shot a blistering stare; more a glare honestly, at his oldest for his unnecessary statement. "You do not need to state the obvious, Dick."
"Hey, whenever Raya offers to take off my shirt?" Dick shot him a lopsided grin. "I more than happily let her."
Raya, as well as Bruce knew that Dick's teasing comment was simply his way of relieving some of the night's tension. Normally, she'd toss some type of quip back at him. However, Raya was really in no mood to trade bantering and flirty innuendos with Dick. If she was being honest, really honest with herself, then she'd admit that what she really wanted to do was burrow into his arms and forget that this night had ever happened. But she couldn't do that. There were still things to do before she could retire to the quiet sanctuary of her apartment. For the moment she ignored him and took the cloth from Bruce. She began to gently wipe away the blood with the soapy cloth.
When he merely took the rag back from her, she huffed, "I swear you're worse than your boys when it comes to injuries."
"Rae," Dick said on a long, drawn out sigh that screamed of deviltry once again being afoot. "I am always agreeable ta when ya wanna use those delicate little hands on my body."
"Really don't need any of your cutesy little innuendos at this time, feather brain."
"That was not one of my cutesy little innuendos," he groused. "It was more of an open... invitation."
Raya again ignored him. To Bruce she said, "This arm is going to need bandaging. The puncture wounds are deep and could become easily infected if they are left open."
Bruce bit back a sigh. There'd been plenty of other cuts, gun shot and puncture wounds over the years, many of the scars from which were visible. What was one more? He'd chosen this life. Chose to use the night, to become the night, and accepted the risks and the costs of his choices. Injuries were a small price to pay in the service of the greater good. But his injuries did present him with an opportunity to do what his son was failing at: tease his imp out of her doldrums.
"Are you going to tear me a bandage from one of your slips, imp?" he asked lightly.
"Was that… humor?" her lips twitched. "Now, I know that besides cuts, bruises and five puncture holes in your arm you've also got a concussion."
"Hell must be freezing over," Dick teased.
"You'll be on triple patrols for the next month if you don't knock it off," Bruce shot back. He then angled his head to watch while Raya spread a generous antibiotic ointment over his pierced flesh. "Raya?" he said gently.
"Hrm?" She looked up. "What?"
"Why did you tell Crane about Inceptive still existing? It just seems..." his shoulders moved restlessly, "so out of character for you to tell a man as dangerous as him about an agent like this."
She wiped her hands on a rag and reached for a gauze pad. "Bruce, I was eleven when I first told Crane about Inceptive." She stared into his eyes, read his surprise and tried to explain. "I didn't know he was a psychopath. Not back then. Crane hid his insanity really well from everybody, even my grandfather. Nobody was likely to suspect that mild mannered Jonathan Crane was going to take the neurological properties of my grandfather's formula and use it in his demented zeal to see Gotham quake with fear."
Bruce's eyebrows shot up when her implication became clear. "Crane worked in your grandfather's laboratory?"
She nodded. "He was one of Dr. Vonguard's research partners."
"Was he a fruit loop back then?" Dick asked.
Raya shook her head with a slight smile. "No. He was… " she paused, considered. "Well, he was normal really," she finally said. "I didn't learn about his madness until I was thirteen."
"Normal?" Dick scoffed. "I find that hard to believe, Rae."
"Jonathan was kinda shy, unfailingly polite and extremely respectful, but he was perfectly normal, Dick."
"He masked his madness well."
"That he did."
"So," Bruce said in a slow, thoughtful voice. "It wasn't that you've told him the formula still exists, it's that Crane knows it does."
Raya nodded. "That's pretty much what Dick and I have concluded, yes."
"Then how do you explain what happened at the asylum tonight? It is not just Inceptive that Crane is after here, imp."
"He's infatuated with her," Dick said on a long sigh. "Something that Tim, Barb, Jason, Gordon and I have been trying to tell the daft woman about for the last few months. But she refused to believe us until she saw it for herself."
"Hey," Raya retorted in a lightly teasing voice. "I can't help that you and Crane share an appreciation for my mind..."
"Anyway," Dick said on a long breath. "Since Bruce is here and can babysit you..." he only grinned when she tossed the dirty rag at him. "I'm going to go up and give Damian the good news."
"What good news?" Raya asked with a note of suspicion in her voice; on her face.
"Why, don't ya know?" he said in a sing song voice that grated upon her nerves. "You'll be staying here at the Manor for the next few weeks or so."
Raya's eyes narrowed. "Who says I am going to be staying here at the Manor for the next few weeks?"
"I do."
Even as Bruce spoke, the piercing edge of her gaze cut to him, raked over his face. Temper streaked through her, hot and keen, and was ruthlessly rejected. The rational part of her brain told her he was only doing this because he was worried about her safety. But goddamn it, she'd had her fill that night of arrogant men telling her what to do.
"Bruce," she said in as soft and reasonable a voice as she could manage. "I have an apartment. A really wonderful apartment that is a few blocks-"
"Until Crane is found and locked back in his cell at Arkham," he interjected in a soft voice. "You'll be staying at the Manor, imp."
Where I can keep an eye on you, he added silently.
"And with that," Dick chirped. "I'm off ta let our baby bird know how he's going ta be helping with keeping ya outta trouble."
The outright pleasure that was in Dick's voice about telling the youngest Wayne member about her living at the Manor for a few days had Raya's hackles rise. Why is he so happy that I am going to be here? she wondered as she turned to watch her best friend stroll out of the medical bay. It was almost as if... realization dawned. Her eyes narrowed to thin slits as she growled, "Richard John Grayson, where exactly do you think that you are going to be staying for the next few weeks?"
The hand that reached for the phone was plump and very tan. At the wrist, white cuffs were studded with square diamonds. The nails were buffed to a dull sheen and neatly clipped. The receiver of the phone was white, pristine, and cool. Fingers curled around it, five perfectly manicured fingers, the pinky adorned with a sapphire the size of a dove's egg.
"Berkeley."
The voice was dark and arrogant. Hearing it, the man on the other end of the phone felt his temper flaring. The former Gotham power broker might think that he was the boss, but the man on the other end of the phone knew that all Matthew Berkeley Jr. really was, was the banker that was financing their little operation. There was only one man that he truly answered too, and that man was himself.
The only reason he had forged an allegiance with a man like Matthew Berkeley was because he wanted to bring down Batman almost as much as this man wanted to bring down Bruce Wayne. And Berkeley had access to the funds and resources that he needed in order to obtain his vengeance upon the man responsible for his penniless and pathetic state. But there was going to be a day where he would no longer find this man useful. And then Mr. Berkeley, he thought with a brilliant smile wreathing his face. Your time will have run out.
"The Fenix ran into Crane... as you predicted she would." The voice that spoke was raspy, hardly more than a whisper. It was an unfortunate byproduct of his numerous facial procedures. It would, he knew, become more like the warm, velvety smooth tones Wayne used once he'd completely healed. "He administered a dose of his..." he paused to draw a breath. "Fear toxin, as you requested."
Dead silence. Matthew Berkeley Jr. knew it was a more useful strategy than a hundred threats. He let the silence echo for five seconds, ten.
"And yet," he took a puff from his cigar, held the smoke in for a few seconds, and then released it slowly. "You did not deliver her to me as I ordered you to. Why is that, Doctor?"
"She was carried from the asylum by the Red Hood," was his reply. The doctor drew in another deep, rasping breath. "I had no choice but to stand down."
"So, my daughter is again in the protective custody of one of Batman's associates," Berkeley muttered.
"Yes."
"It would seem, doctor, that the little bitch has a guardian working overtime to protect her. No matter, she won't remain in his custody for long. I have a few calls to make, a few…. favors to call in. Do make sure to locate the brat and bring her to me soon. I've paid you a lot of money after all. You wouldn't want me to start thinking that I made a bad… investment, now would you?"
The doctor simmered at that sly and slippery tone. "Of course not, Mr. Berkeley," he said in a soft, dangerous tone. It was a tone which Matthew Berkeley found to be absolutely amusing. "Where do you suggest that I begin looking for her?"
There was a laugh, soft and cold. The sound grated on the doctor's nerves. "Find Dick Grayson." Berkeley's mouth bowed up into a brilliant and stunning smile. "And you'll find my whore daughter. I can absolutely guarantee it."
