Author's Notes: It's somewhat heavy to read, since it encompasses almost all of the characters mentioned before—Main Ones anyways, though there were two I had to keep off the table, no matter how much I wanted them in it. It had several editing, and had me considering on more than one occasion to cut it, since it may have been too much just for one piece, but at the end decided to go against it. Had a lot of fun, and at parts had to force the characters to interact since they seemed against the idea, so I apologize if anything seems OC, it's definitely not within my wishes. Other than that, it's been one of my favorite chapters to write for the characters displayed. Enjoy~
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to DC and I only use them for entertainment purposes. I own nothing. If I did the reboot wouldn't exist. Like other details.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Summary: Post-apocalyptic world. Six long years ago the world fell apart at the hands of Leviathan. Now, the Bats must decide if past events and strained relationships are to be put aside to end the Empire, while trying to remain alive. Pre-reboot.
Eventual Pairings: Dick/Jason and Dick/Tim with Dick being the center of the triangle; hints of Tim/Conner, one sided Tim/Stephanie, and one sided Dick/Barbara, Minor Bruce/Selina and Bruce/Talia.
Warning(s): Foul language, Gore, Details on torture, Violent scenes, and mentions of Death.
Tuesday January 24th, 2012 Words: 9,001
War of the Bats
By Robin Wingster
Chapter VIII.- The Mourner's Gathering.
~-00:04hrs. Hidden Passage to the Basement of the Primary Military Forces Department, Omicron-Metropolis.
He had made an amazing progress that's certain. As of this moment, Timothy Drake was one hundred-percent convinced the Empire forces from Omicron-Metropolis were studying and experimenting on Human Specimens on this exact Building.
For starters, this was one of the few places he exclusively had trouble getting into. That fact alone was enough to warrant suspicion; they were the ones with technological advancements, even so their toys had trouble adjusting to the new level of brilliancy displayed. He really wanted to take some examples with himself for later study, and hopefully, to find an easier-faster manner to hack, but he kept reminding himself this was no average operation, and so, not worthy of the risk of being caught—especially if his theory was right (and it was). Another thing that jammed his awareness was the notorious (for him actually; it was impossible the Enemies knew of this for they would've done something about it) effort of the Gothamites in creating an alternative disguised path that led explicitly to this building.
Actually, that should've been his first reason to signal this territory with a 'Code-Red 10-23' (1) grade.
White-dry halls with hues of sick yellows and oranges from the lights garnished the one-way corridor; windowless walls that had intricate code-patterns replacing them endlessly. It looked nothing like the sewers he'd just came from, and for a while, had been worried of leaving a trace just from the odor he elicited coming from those toxic waters, but found not one soul on his first minutes to telltale on his sullied persona. He was careful on where he stepped, not above going to the vents to avoid unnecessary confrontations, but the gates for the air vents were too small only children could try to press their way in, let alone a grown man—however "small" his frame was, he thought, grouching at the taunts from the family's teenager regarding his height.
He'd found an effective way to remain inconspicuous after being on the look-out every step taken for hidden cameras and blind spots that gave him the room to move as fastest as he could to avoid detection. Red Robin hadn't believed in accomplish anything with it, and was prepared to receive the countless Militaries that would surely locate him in no time given his inadequate/amateur tries to remain covert, finding himself completely perplexed when none came after his tail, and deciding not to press his luck, searched for any worker of the Department to gain a better method of keeping himself hidden to prying eyes.
It had been when he'd found that doctor roaming straight his way with those over-the-top glasses and perpetual frown he almost thought for a second Bruce had a long-lost brother somewhere. Having no place to hide himself, and taking advantage of the scientist's distraction placed on his board, Tim sprinted as fast as his feet permitted him, the man barely raising his eyes before he lost all consciousness with the bird's slam on the side of his neck. Trusting the cameras hadn't seen him (after all, wouldn't the sirens declare it?) he quickly dispatched the Doctor's Robes, and identification, taking a copy with his cowl lenses for future (probably so) references.
He grimaced slightly at the loss he'd have to endure, pushing his cowl off his face and oxygen mask with it; the cameras would identify his figure outlines, doing so, he'd had to shed his cowl to avoid attract unwanted attention. The cape fitted nicely underneath the White Coat, and he knew he was pushing it, but he had no place or the time to find a hiding spot for, his eyes ran over the credential—Patrick K. Douglas—and so, just left the male reclining on a wall, some duct tape used to keep his head attached to the wall and hands over the board he'd been looking at. It was rushed, but at least the security wouldn't go after him immediately or have Dr. Douglas in any danger.
Guilty or not of his theories so far.
His cowl went underneath the sheets of papers he'd taken from the cardboard, the gloves were off too, sharing the stupid hiding place beneath the pieces of information he scanned to have a better idea of Douglas' agenda. So far, there wasn't anything significant on it, other than some messy doodles and the same codex he'd seen on all the walls surround this one-way hall. The best option was to memorize it, given the computer on his suit remained there. A couple of minutes later, after walking with haste, he ran a hand on his slightly grown hair to assemble some order to it when another colleague went past him, acting nonchalant and bored. That woman hadn't lifted her face from her own scripts, a precarious realization coming from that everyday action: this was the first time an intruder made it here. It made the alarms inside his ingenious brain go off, almost screaming at him to take his leave while he still could, before that lady that he crossed minutes ago after hastening his pace once more found the real Douglas attached to a wall and gave the order to search for him.
Of course he just ignored that common sense he'd learned from the Bat since his Robin days, levering his gaze to the only stairs a few meters from his standing point that led to another higher level in here. An elevator just at its right side. If anything it made his decision to keep on straight in his head. The elevator was the obvious choice, and using the stolen card to activate the machine was all it took to seal his fate.
Tim would need to talk with Bruce later on about the Citadel's Scientific Activities, but for that he required more than just theories roaming all over his mind—he had to take some solid proof of the Empire's moves to understand the issue behind them better, and finally put a stop to it.
Doors closing and taking special care to avoid giving the camera inside the box a good look of his profile, Red Robin leveled his blue gaze on the buttons at his right. It counted five floors, one of which he'd just vacated from, and somewhat uncertain of his actions, he pressed the floor above them, certain that the odds of finding the clues he needed would be deeper underground.
Here was to hoping he came out alive after finding them.
~-00:28hrs. Security Room, Ninth Floor of Primary Military Forces Department, Omicron-Metropolis.
They were some soldiers knocking on the door quite relentlessly, even so, her blue eyes squinted at the images, undeterred to her silent scrutinizing of the younger man parading despite the bleached locks falling in her line of view or the simultaneous voices from her lesser crew calling frantically for her attention.
It had been long since she saw the third bird of the flock—and hadn't considered he'd be the one she'd caught first of the Clan, but who did the boy think he was kidding? Was this the same kid that discovered the Bats identities back with the original duo, or the same kid who was considered the smartest of the brilliant Flock Bruce had? This man who was wearing nothing but a lab coat to disguise himself from their cameras? She had watched him tape that unfortunate fella on the lowest level below—nothing close to covert was instilled in his actions.
Had the trauma been that crucial for him… though if that was the situation, how had the man remained hidden without killing himself for so long?
She shook her head, those were questions her old Detective self would've asked, and had to remember herself that she wasn't like them anymore, and had a job to deliver. On that note, things were falling into place; the minute their sensors spotted the intrusive Bat she'd taken care of the basics—
"Lady Black Canary, Miss! Please open the door! It's an emergency!"
—and those idiots were getting on her nerves. She suppressed the need to kick-open the door so it'd smashed on their faces making a pretty satisfying slam on their noses, instead turned towards it, making sure to inhale a deep breath and reassess her bleached hair properly; Dinah had an image to maintain, she had to be the perfect soldier. Nothing out of order. Not. A. Thing.
"Lady Black Canary please! It's an emergency!"
Dinah controlled her desire to roll her pretty eyes, absolutely sure those guards would know anything but what qualified as an emergency and opened the door. There were three guards, all breathing heavily and a nervous wreck. For what she had no idea—nobody left knew of Red Robin's presence on the sublevels as it was ought too. Damage control was her responsibility, so really, there wasn't a plausible reason for this type of distress unless her orders of staying out of the five sublevels weren't followed.
"What is it? And be careful with your tone soldier," she narrowed her blues perfectly at the one covering the other two scared siluette behind him, "be aware you three are trespassing and should be guarding your posts instead of raising your tone on a superior commander."
The soldier at the center flinched visibly, making Black Canary remorseful for their fate, but it was past her hands now.
"Yes my Lady, apologies my Lady!" Dinah heard the man quip, and crossed her arms over her chest, right boot tapping expectantly. "Um, but, we—um, you see my Lady," he gulped nervous, voice high and the blonde wanted to smack him silly to hurry him up; Tim was still to be watched and taken care of, and all these goofs were doing was keeping her from her duties, "we were going to the 11th Floor to mark our new positions as per stated when we found, um, we—I mean, he—!" the man's blabber became more intolerable as it went, and was now refusing to make eye-contact with her while having trouble of keeping his frame still.
"Speak already or leave someone else do the job for you. Just don't keep wasting my time with your inexperience." The pretty bird scolded the man who was at least half a meter taller than her and trembled more at her annoyed tone.
The soldiers tensed; a silence along wrapping the space where areas their shaking-loud forms used to be, enabling a different reverberation for the woman in her Commander Uniform (2) to distinguish. Her eyebrows furrowed briefly, unaccustomed to the sound she could now identify, returning her glare once again on the grown men before moving them out of the way to find her target behind the wall of useless firepower and muscle:
A small child crying softly to the ground as both his arms were held tightly by the two behind the nervous mess who called her attention.
She turned a fierce glare to the men before signaling the little chestnut-haired boy with her right hand, furious of this infant's presence.
"Explain—now."
"We—um, we found him on the Eleventh floor my Lady!" One of them who had remained silent answered in a rush. "We were just sealing the doors to the Labs as instructed so we could take guard on our new positions when the sound of his crying alerted us of his presence!" Dinah raised an eyebrow, mentally taking the scenario described on the floors above the Building and taking a peak at the child who still kept crying silently with his face down to the floor. "So we went to see what the commotion was and when we opened the door he just sprang out! I mean, the little boy literally ran-out from Laboratory No. 11 and we had a tough time detaining him because he was crazy! And then Larry went to search for any Doctor but there wasn't anyone and nobody answered us and then we came here because we thought you would know what is he doing here and—!"
"Did any of you enter the Laboratory No. 11?" Black Canary asked calm, raising a palm to stop the soldier's rants, knowing what it meant if the response was affirmative.
Their sick expressions confirmed her query, and once more, she was left with a sour taste for what she would have to do in order to keep it from spreading.
"You did a good job in coming to me. Give me the child." She commanded, extending her hand to receive the sobbing boy.
"Thank you my Lady, thank you." The first one uttered incredulously while the other two handed the limp body who still kept crying softly in low tones to the open hand of the bird. "If you do not mind my Lady, we—I mean,…" the man cut himself off, clearly afraid to ask more than he should know off.
"…he's damaged, my Lady." Finished the last of the trio who had kept himself quiet in frightened tones. "There's something coming out from his back—he's,… he's leaking, my Lady…" Broken words finished his sentence at the same time he relented the hold on the boy clad in hospital garments, who finally lifted his face at the adults hovering around him: a terrified emotion covering one of his eyes whereas the other one appeared hollow.
It made Dinah's chest constrict with sadness and rightful anger that she couldn't let show through, so instead, she nodded at the men in armor, her palm tight around the scarred-little one, making her way back to the security room with some futile resistance from the brunette on her hold, to finish her assignment prior to more unexpected occurrences.
"Bitte…lass mich gehen (3)…" The child exhaustedly sobbed in German (it had to be German, there was no mistake about that), the men anxious from not understanding his whimpers to ignoring the obvious marks that labeled him as an experimental subject.
"I'll take care of him, Soldier. Go to Sublevel One to stand guard on the Stairs and Elevator entrances. You three deserve a quiet evening after helping this lost boy." Canary told them, overlooking the little brunette at her right as she watched the men nod uncertainly previous to going to the place commanded and shutting the door to the security room with the kid in tow.
No doubt existed in the confines of her mind regarding the guards' obedience, still, she watched them descend to the floor mentioned and stand their ground with a calculating gaze of blue, knowing no tomorrow was in store for them at the same time she searched for Tim's position, finding the third Robin on Sublevel Three.
How peculiar.
Stealing a glance to the boy after situating and typing the commands to take care of the troublesome bird, she kneeled in front of him, moving with a gentle caress one of his brown locks from his face to inspect his eyes better; a wretched noise getting caught in her throat at his blind eyeball and multiple scars covering his young frame.
This is what they did to their children.
Knowing there wasn't anything she could offer him, she placed both her hand on his shoulders, careful of not reopening wounds that might be beneath the scrubs encompassing the infant.
"… I'm so sorry…" Her voice broke in a choked whisper, embracing the boy for the cruel fate that had rested upon him bestowing him those marks that he now carried; truly repented for what they did with them, and letting a fresh trail of tears fall from her beautiful eyes, dampening the awful excuse for a garment at full force when those little arms hugged her in return.
It was all it took to break her, sobbing her heart out as rivers of tears fell from her orbs; the sounds of explosions acting the part of the background enrolled with excruciating cries being tapped by the cameras.
She was just so tired of her charge…
~-00:37hrs. Sublevel Three of Primary Military Forces Department, Omicron-Metropolis.
It was impossible he hadn't found a thing for his research. This was the third level he inspected, with anything but results. Tim tried to think of a different set of reasons explaining the odd circumstances revolving his failure, and every one of them kept signaling the matching basis:
He was caught.
Of course that went both ways: not one soul had crossed his path—let alone give off a sign for his arrest, so really, he hadn't a clue of what was happening around—
BOOM.
"Arrrggghhh—!" Red Robin grunted painfully, the force of an explosion a meager meter from where he strolled sending him sprawling afar against the hard floor beneath him. His ears resounded grimly; sirens in red hues mad accompanied with a blaringly annoying pitch. The door of the elevator near his landing spot; a brief acknowledgement of ache making him redirected his stare to his right foot that echoed a pulsating pain over the smoke and rubbish following the explosion of said box to find his aforementioned extremity underneath the steel material.
Great, it was doubtlessly broken with the sheer intensity that travelled all the way up his leg he considered, quickly adjusting some batarangs to defend himself on this vulnerable position until he got to his feet and searched a way out. Curses couldn't help being expelled at himself for his stupidity and naivety at his position—of course the enemy would wait for him to feel confident before trying to blow him out of the way. Literally. To consider otherwise was a sheer testament of his lack of common sense, and a resonant shame that would follow him to his grave.
Dick wouldn't have done something like this. He would've done it better. A's it.
It was far from over, Tim had made a promise to the acrobat's memory to end the Empire, and if he had to resort to cut-off his own limb to keep a fighting chance and get out alive he would do so without hesitation. That on mind, he was ready to attack the forces that came at him, ready with batarangs on one hand as the other tried to remove the giant metal-door from his lower extremity; blazes from the metallic box unyielding against the liquid pouring from the pieces left of the ceiling.
"Gonna chop it off or what?"
Tim heard the spiteful tenor coming from the black smoke, knowing exactly what happened by then and immediately threw the delinquent forerunner of his old skin all the sharp weapons he had held in his hand. Both of his clear blues darkened not missing a beat for his other hand throwing another set of batarangs to renew his failure when the other bird in leather avoided them easily.
"I ain't got all day Restaurant Boy." Red Hood snarled behind his helmet, kicking away a large piece of concrete to get closer to the other man in the floor.
"Should've known you wouldn't stay dead for long." Tim answered haughty, sneering at the image of the older male in the floor. The screams he'd heard below him had faded away—death by the proud flames erupting from their only manufactured entrance or exit.
Jason glared back, having a rough time in keeping his boiling anger in check. 'Stupid Dick. (4)' He thought resenting the acrobat, offended at the pitiful image the asshole in front of him painted still trying to free his leg with no success in the foreseeable future—which was pretty scarce to see at this point because they needed to get the hell outof here fast.
NOW.
"For crying out loud," The older vigilante sneered, taking out his grappling line to shoot it against the red vest the third in line for the Wayne Empire wore underneath the white coat, eliciting a surprised-throbbing response from said wuss (he agreed to get the substitute out—nothing about how he did it), and pulled, twisting the body of his replacement towards his direction—and making more grunts and girly shrieks come out of him in the process—to finally liberate the pathetic man from his imprisonment.
Small explosions corresponding to six floors above them marked his queue. The detonators having left openings for them to go up to their designated exit Dick should have ready for them now that he had blown-up the Elevator and blasted the stairs that covered the spaces below the ground.
"Aaarrrgghhh!... ahh,…ah—ahh,…!" Tim cried his lungs-out, gasping for air when the sudden abuse stopped and all he could stare at were his "brother's" dirty boots. He swallowed, trying to regain his semblance—
"Ooff!"
-not being granted the pleasure of a second to take it when Jason roughly pulled him up after sending his grapple to some point on the recently made gap on another level above, the explosions behind them a swirling mess of reds and oranges as the vertigo of their escape was set in motion.
Tim's mind was set on a derailed frenzy; the Empire was destroying the place—the workers, everything and how did— 'Is it really them,… or just Jason?' was the only constant thought popping into his head as he discarded or assembled theories ringing on and about.
"Put on your fucking mask idiot!" Jason growled at him, the sudden return of gravity encompassing his skin when the older dropped him dead on the floor, right next to their recently vacated hole.
He glared icy daggers at the older male, diminishing his coughing long enough to strap his cowl and adjust his mask. He shuffled the crumpled papers into the belt, not removing his grip on their tumultuous trajectory.
The story was a diverse yet parallel version of what he'd seen underground, consisting of the same sickly orange-yellowish tinges, and windowless walls with the matching encryptions on them. The notable difference was the healthier amount of lights, supplying the level a healthier—alive—façade; on that note, he could spot some sealed doors meters from their post just by the stairway and broken elevator, another remarkable distinction from downstairs.
"What's your problem?" A now-assembled Red Robin asked icily, retrieving his stand with the aid of his staff to support his weight. Funny how the alarms didn't follow their obvious route on the building.
So much for remaining inconspicuous.
"Asides from you holding up our escape? Just the usual." Red Hood worded with malice to the younger of the two, never giving the abovementioned the time of day while he took out his watch, the hologram blinking to life and showing coordinates encrypted for curious eyes that watched his every move.
"That's Dick's watch you lunatic!"
Oh fuck, this shit again? Jason made no move to signal acknowledgment, ending his part of the deed and sending the signal to Mage, who was ought to follow as instructed and signal Dick in return.
"Get over it Replacement," he said coldly to the man approaching him at a snail's pace—he was too fucking slow—after covering his wrist, "and move your fuckin' ass. Seriously, could you be any fuckin' slower? Geez, Bruce really won the jackpot with you," he blurted, gaining a small sense of satisfaction spread to his core at the frustration on those eyes behind the cowl 'Body language asshole, learn it', he thought, running to the end of the hallway when there was a characteristic sound that destroyed the whole wall at the end of this long corridor, the resistant line pulling the unanticipated body with its grasp still unbroken behind him.
"Stop! Jason! The data! Stop it—I need—the data—I said stop you egoistical Jackass!" Red Robin shouted, cutting the cable with a batarang, ending his travel of being dragged throughout the whole story, and earning in the process the satisfaction of watching the second Robin fall on his face at the loss of his added weight with the force behind his legs.
"You little bitch!" Jason snarled furiously, getting himself. He wasted no time in taking out his gun, forgetting on getting out the wuss alive for the ultimate pleasure of killing the bitch off. Dick would forgive him—possibly.
Eventually.
Maybe.
…
'Dammit.'
"Look, I don't care to know how you got here right now—I'm even less interested on the why at this point, but I have things to settle and you're not listening. I'm staying." Red Robin said in icy tones. He was finally up and managing his steps, careful on dismissing his throbbing extremity and pounding headache; the dizziness he could handle—Jason's presence brought out the worst of him, for that he needed to get away from the older male.
That was bypassing the horrible fact that one of his brother's belongings was in the vigilante turned criminal's clutches.
"I beg to differ asshole, you're coming with me," Red Hood charged his small gun, the clock ticking. They really needed to get out, who knew how long it would take them get to their promised point, and then get the other's to help this pathetic piece of shit.
Dick wasn't stable—he couldn't ask much of him right now.
"No, I'm not. You can't make me. You want to fight me? That's fine—choose the day and I'll give you what Bruce hasn't in years, but not right now."
Sirens went off, blaring in red colors on their floor. Jason grew more infuriated and Tim, more aggravated.
"Maybe you don't care Jason, but this place holds the key to finish the mission." The younger male said, his body tensing when he catched the other's bare restraint from pulling the trigger. It didn't matter, Tim wasn't going anywhere without some answers.
"That's where you're wrong dipshit. You've already ruined everything, so you got two choices: a) you shut up and do as I tell you, or b) I make you shut up and do as I tell you. Right now, I ain't got the fuckin' time to entertain your stupid daydreams."
Red Robin's lenses glowed, giving the other member of their family his answer before expressing it. He marked his position taking an offensive stand, Jason straightening his own going for an offensive attack too.
"Try it." Tim said emotionlessly.
"Alright, so 'b' it is." Jason responded maliciously.
Now he had an excuse for the damaged package.
Chaos was the natural direction this encounter had. It had taken but one move (from whom was yet to be established, though if asked both birds would deny being the one responsible for it) to start the disarrayed fight that had been steaming long time between the two brothers. There was no refinement on their motions; just animalistic rage they encountered on any rebellion soul that had had everything taken away from him.
Curses, shouts and low blows with bare naked hands.
A primitive pleasure erupting on mutual sides at the triggered fight they embodied with loathsome feelings and damaged spirits.
If asked, maybe they wouldn't remember to answer, but at some point in their brawl they had ended at the end of the corridor—the destination point all along—and fell from the building still clutching and hurting one another. They had temporarily took notice of their fall, but were so deeply sunken on their rage that it mattered no more.
Death was an eventuality—
"Oooff!"
"Arghh!"
"If you're done acting like children then we can move on."
—unless you were the son of Batman, 'cause then that meant that while death was inevitable it wouldn't be by the hands of another one from the family.
"The fuck you doing here?" Red Hood grunted, disentangling his body from the other man on the safety net that saved their skins. He had to hand it to the Bat though: this thing was handy and just by its texture he could tell the weight wouldn't be a problem.
He'd had to steal one from them for sure.
Tim, on the other hand, looked at the glaring bat ashamed, blaming himself and moving from the net that stood three meters from the ground with some difficulty.
"Bruce, I—"
"-Tt- Don't waste our time Drake, your excuses are unacceptably petty, and pathetic to say the least." Night-Robin bit out, arms crossed over his grown chest as he eyed the oldest son remove himself from their impromptu salvation. This was the first time he'd seen Todd in the two months following their newly assembled partnership, and he saw him with that idiotic Drake? His domino mask glowered in restrained anger.
"Night-Robin," Batman growled impatiently, silencing his biological son in the act with a little grunt from said teen, "we'll discuss it in Gotham," he said curtly, dismissing the desired explanation from the third bird and approaching him. He lend his hands to support his son's weight, mindful of the injury that prevented the young man from getting out of their net.
Red Robin grunted with difficulty, aware of his increasing damage done by the explosion, the fight, and consecutively, the fall, but accepted his father's support, leaning into the strong man for support once he was down on the earth floor and evading his haunting gaze.
He had failed and in the midst involved his father in a potentially life-and-death situation.
That is if Kent was at home. And if he wasn't, he was certainly on his way over by now.
"Well, this was really fun and all, so how's about we repeat another little family reunion on another decade? Good, I'll leave you with your broken bird now," Red Hood called rapidly, running off before stopping abruptly and returning just as quickly. "I'll take this boss, we'll call it even!"
"Jason, come her—"
"Father! One o'clock, duck!" Night-Robin shouted, Batman already on the floor when the caution was heeded and with Red Robin's form beneath his. Red Hood had ducked himself out of the way too, being on the common route of the original Bat and missed by a centimeter the giant tone Statue that was now impaled on the wall surrounding the Citadel.
"BRUCE!" The raging cry of a warrior directed their gazes at their current problem who stood no less than forty meters away from them.
"No…" Red Robin mouthed, feeling the body protecting his own tense in preoccupation.
"Crap," Red Hood cursed under his breath. Net said nothing about this. This changed everything—what about their plan?
Night-Robin resumed an offensive stand, positioning himself strategically between his father and secret ally viciously. He had been waiting years for an opportunity like this. The teen made sure to send the leather-covered vigilante a meaningful stare he was positive was understood.
They would talk. After getting rid of that venomous snake at long last.
"Prince." Batman growled, his chilling voice sending tremors on each of his sons at the magnitude of his emotion. His cape covered his figure after adjusting his third child on a standing position behind him, taking a step towards the Exiled Queen that had a feral face of her own: teeth clenching and furrows set into a glaring match with the Dark Knight himself.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to finally get out of your dog cage." The Amazon roared, bending over to rip apart the rests of the pedestal from the statue she threw at the Bats, sending daggers at the whole group once she had the concrete piece above her figure, "ALL of you. This ends today!"The warrior bellowed, letting go of the impromptu projectile with more power behind his move.
"R3 (5)! Deploy!" Batman commandeered and all four males got out of the way; the heavy pedestal stone had pushed what was left from the first object, a huge gap letting the light from the world outside come into the awful territory of the man of Steel. Knowing what to do, the bats ran into their made escapee, Batman was the first to make it to the exit, promptly throwing a couple of smoke pellets to cover their actions. He heard his old colleague growl in frustration, the lenses of his cowl watching her sturdy siluette preparing to take a run at them regardless of her impeding sight.
It mattered not, the rendezvous point wasn't far from he stood, and he'd left her a little surprise when she went through the concrete walls.
BOOM.
"Ahh—Bruce!" The woman yelled, granting the Bat the window he needed to get close to his allies; under these moments of crisis, he knew differences were set aside on his sons, that said he hadn't a smidge of doubt the two uninjured ones had assisted the assaulted one.
The computer on his cowl alerted him of another impending attack, and he dodged out of the way from a familiar lasso the Royal Fighter had sent to catch him from her spot at the wall's entrance. He'd left her a miniature device that exploded and covered the victim in an unhealthy amount of an adhesive substance (6) that lasted a period of twenty-four minutes, decomposing afterwards, thus burning the object trapped beneath; for Wonder Woman it would only stand for half the time minimum ahead of said female breaking away free.
"Black Bat, report on affirmative duty for Mission Deployed, over." Batman growled over their microphones, waiting on his daughter's response on the other side as he almost reached his target, pellets from the boys masking his leave.
"Black Bat over, Mission Confirmed, over and out." The former recognized billionaire heard the soothing voice on the other end of the contraption, giving a barely distinguished nod.
"Over and out." His low tenor grunted, before cutting the line and finally reassembling with his group keeping his hiding space on the open camp intact while adjusting his lenses to get a better reading of his environment.
"Nobody was on the street—how did the civilians knew something like this might've happen?" Night-Robin breathed out, an inquiry that had been bothering his older predecessors after falling from the Military Building.
Batman glowered, "They were alerted." He turned his glare to Tim, who clenched his jaw understanding the message. "You should've known better than to act like this."
"Yes." Red Robin maintained his pose emotionless, swallowing his deserved blame for putting everyone in danger.
"Jason, you remember Tactic S (7)." Batman stated, confident in his lost ward's memory, scouting the perimeter.
Red Hood smirked behind his helmet, adjusting his reserve of ammunition.
"In-fuckin'-deed boss man!" The deserter said in joyous cynicism. "Unfortunately—for you, of course—I have things to settl—"
"Wait!" Night-Robin ordered, extending his gloved-hand towards a different point at their current six o'clock, immediately leaping towards his signaled entity in haste. His father caught his right arm, stopping him from frantically following the deviation.
"Night-Robin the order is to keep your status—" The eldest Wayne growled at the lack of composure his offspring created; there were no times for games.
"There's a child in the crossfire!" He interrupted his sire, riding himself of the hold with the shock his statement brought and twisting his cape from Hood's clutch cutting said end from his cape.
Children were innocents of the war.
This one had just turned his tail and ran away from the turmoil, a sensitive action that was sure to preserve his existence if the Amazonian Wench wasn't meters away from crushing him with her blind rage for being in the middle.
"Wait!" He yelled, chasing the small infant as he kept running away from him to the far distance of dead land. His associates would have to take care of the pest—even if it burned Damian's insides at his denied revenge towards said female—but the child was his priority.
He had already failed too many to forgive himself.
"Damian!" Bruce growled out, staring darkly at the youngest vigilante fading away in the distance. "Jason, now." He barked, distinguishing the Queen's approaching escape, and ran to a new place to commence the tactic.
"Fuck," Red Hood cursed spiteful, obeying the command by stretching his legs with each strong leap he took, using his guns once the Amazon broke free with a feral growl of own and went right after the oldest of the working duo.
"I'm sick of your toys!"Diana screamed at the top of her lungs, using her bracelets to shield herself from the bullets the wayward son of her nemesis shot at her at the same time she covered her eyes when a particularly pellet made them water and itch.
"Then you're going to love this." Bruce's tenor announced on her right as he jabbed his hands on either sides of her neck, quickly depositing an electrified charge of 40MV, earning a clench of teeth from his former league member. However, Diana was stronger than that, raising her arms over her head to grab his own and smash him into the dry soil, ready to step over him.
It was a painful reminder of how powerful his enemy was, nonetheless, he had something she didn't.
"I will—ahhrghh!" The woman shrieked midsentence, holding her injured shoulder and sending a glower towards the forgotten bird who pulled the trigger on his grapple, retracting the line and her with it.
"Arghh!"
"Forget about me Princess?" Red Hood mocked her, before sensing a familiar surround coming at him, "Shit," diving out of the way he scarcely got scot-free from the resounding screech that destroyed the camp beneath him, forgetting about his grapple that was impaled on the Amazon's right shoulder.
"What took you so long?" Wonder Woman redirected her glare at the blonde woman, losing sight of Bruce and Jason in the action, but retrieving the piercing end of the line imbedded on her flesh without a flinch.
Dinah refuse to go along with the urge to copy the other's actions, instead took another step into the arena, trying to adjust her stare on the field surrounded by smoke after her Canary Cry.
"This wasn't the only incident my Lady," the meta answered instead, keeping her stand diplomatic when in range of the other woman, "the building is no more."
"And so are those Bats once we find them." The raven-haired female said to her inferior with decision, breaking the toy that perforated her flesh, "there!" her lasso went to grab the dark vigilante, succeeding and flying ever so slightly towards the bat. She made to retrieve her Amazonian artifact, hauling the body towards her pummeling fist aiming to break his face which the Gothamite ducked from, sweeping a leg on the rope and pulling downwards, his force taking by surprise the rampant raven, sending her to his place on the ground to receive her slamming his Kevlar-packed-forearm against her windpipe. She gasped at the brute assault not having the time to think of a counterattack when Bruce was already behind her, grabbing her in a strong armlock intended to make her faint with the lack of oxygen.
Refusing to fall that easily, she took a hold of herself, crushing his biceps with all her strength and admittedly thunderstruck at the resistance the material of his gear possessed, for she would have sliced open his flesh by now and could only just so feel the material cracking underneath her fingernails. Her efforts conversely appeared victorious, the armlock gone and Bruce retracting his sharp batarangs that she dodged with her bracelets.
Dinah went after the other problem on their list, catching Jason by avoiding the array of assertive bullets that would have ended her life if she wasn't an experienced metahuman herself. The former judo instructor served a high kick to the Red anti-hero's bicep, Jason proficiently expecting the kick and trapping her foot between his arm and forearm in the juncture between both parts of his extremity, taking the change to impale his left knee on the Empire Soldier's ribcage.
The hit made it's collision, but Canary slammed her open palm on Red Hood's left cheek, the helmet left with a dent from the offensive and making the receptor stagger and loose his hold for a couple of seconds on the woman. For Dinah it was more than enough, taking a step backwards to recover her air as she let out another Canary Cry—this one noticeably smaller for she had yet to recover her air from the younger man's previous hit, but he jumped out of the way with a double leap in the air, landing approximately five meters from her and shooting her before his feet even touched the ground, at which she kept dodging, nearing him enough to regain her breath and reattempt her attacks.
At some random point the four dancing shapes got closer, both bats with their backs a meter away from the other and their respective adversaries in front of them, unbeknownst to the female's team this wasn't a coincidence on their run.
Black Canary gave out an enormous cry, the sound waves causing the dry soil to fracture as it reached its subjects.
"—ah-hah-!" Dinah felt herself choke at the dusty projectile that landed inside her mouth, exploding in a collection of powder within her oral cavity and effectively ending her treat to the Bats.
Diana's eyes widened in recognition at the object filling the sky above them, a distinctly female dressed in black and portraying a domino mask holding some type of shotgun at her only ally in these field full of enemies.
"Subject C (8) out, aiming Subject W (9)." Batman pressed his ear-com, hearing Cassandra's voice under the pandemonium created seconds prior to another shot falling into Wonder Woman's bracelets (she had covered her eyes quickly) with the same substance from the battle's beginning.
That wasn't any deterrent for Black Bat, keeping her almost perfect shooting at the current menace in golden garbs when Batgirl directed the black jet near their position at an adequate altitude for both men to make their escape.
"Get in, hurry!" Stephanie's voice replaced his daughter's on his cowl, the Bat grabbing his oldest son's hand and sending his line at the ship's entrance where Black Bat continued her fire at their standing enemy. Fortunately Jason took the hold, sending his own bullets to the Amazon enough for his sister to assert one shot and send the woman to the floor, blind if only for a few minutes to make their escape.
Greek queen or not, she couldn't keep of both their attacks at different points for that long.
"Get back here Bruce!" Diana shouted, flying into the guided by noise alone, making Stephanie adjust their flying route rather drastically to prevent falling prey to the oldest woman's advances.
"Hang on! It's going to be a rough ride!" Batgirl cautioned, moving the fine machine in the skies with expertise, avoiding the hits one way or another.
Turbulence aside, the two males ascended with the line retracting back to its place, Cass pulling her father and consequently her brother unto the ship, ushering both exhausted men inside the cargo area of the jet where their previous mission's target resided.
"Where's Red Robin?" Batman grunted out, heading no attention to the turbulence. He walked past a box filled with weapons just beside Jason who had slid to the floor massaging his neck and recharging his arsenal. Black Bat shook her head one time, not removing herself from the jet's opening meters from them.
"He's still down there; the priority from your message stated the conditions to the retrieval." She stated over their microphone, refusing to part with her gas mask when the entrance was still open (as where all at all times).
"The little shit's also M.I.A.," Jason spoke angered at the action, levering himself to face the others, "you got the wrong son Bats, I suggest an exchange,"
Batman glared, his pose dangerous even to his allies. The Batwing had just stopped its abrupt movements, so at least they got Prince off their backs for now. "We're all going back to Gotham Jason," the slits of his cowl glowered in silent promise, "we still need to talk about a few things,"
"You want to talk? Fine, just name the scumbag, and I'll be there—just don't expect me to go back to that pool of vermin you call home." The younger male took a step towards his ex-mentor, getting into his personal space that, without a doubt, the Bat didn't so much as flinch.
"You guys fighting already? We need to find Tim and Damian, so book it up for another hour until we find them and then rip each other's eyes off." Stephanie's voice came from the speakers of the jet, clearly infuriated at the lack of composure she heard on the cockpit.
"I think I got one," Cass was the only one who acknowledged the blonde's input, effectively stealing the attention from the men to her lead.
"Send the coordinates and let's rescue those boys Cass," Steph chatted amicably with some arrogance on her beautiful soprano, "God knows they can't do anything without us."
01:24hrs. Outskirts of Omicron-Metropolis. Distance unknown.
"Damian, come here!" Tim hissed out on his microphone, sure that idiot homunculus could hear him—had done so for the rest 25 minutes or so—while searching him in the vast amounts of the death zone. His worry had long left him, convinced both of them were nowhere near the battle taking place between both sides, and asserting himself like a liability in this occasion, he decided to look for the irresponsible teen and take him to safer grounds instead, trusting in the abilities of his General.
Jason was another story all together.
"Damian, stop acting like a child and respond already! We need to evacuate ASAP!" He kept hissing coldly at the teen, wishing he would at least pick up already so Tim wouldn't be walking around in circles. It was nobody's fault but his own for messing with his implanted GPS, which then got worst by Jason's violent behavior, resulting on being on the loose from and of his allies.
He kept his pace, using his staff in the place of a cane that reminded him of Alfred, not willing to give-up on anything. Red Robin had kept part of his investigation; the papers coded that would lead them to another point—
Crawl.
—he heard a rock moving, automatically enhancing his vision and motion sensors for the approaching entity.
"—back here!" Red Robin's eyes hardened, recognizing the young pitch that came along with cat-like footsteps from military boots he was acquainted, forgetting his broken foot as he limped his way towards the youngest Bat.
"I won't hurt you!" The brat's voice became more audible, Tim changed his direction by twelve angles, eventually slamming against a small bulge, falling instantly over it without much grace.
"Oof!" He exhaled at the air being cut from him, the boots coming closer in the distance and feeling someone yank him away from his collision's object before he caught his breath.
"Drake you imbecile! Watch were you're going!" The demon snarled, not paying him any mind, Tim's eyes bulging slightly underneath his cowl at the small child he'd ran into.
"Wait!" "There's a child in the crossfire!"
Red Robin recalled the homunculus yelling prior to abandoning his designated spot, nearing the child who had still yet to get up from the floor, and kneeling a healthy amount of space away from Damian—who kept immobile too. Strange for someone so eager to help this kid, the oldest of the trio considered before passing a calculating look on the little one's back.
He wished he had been prepared for it, maybe then he'd have controlled the gasp escaping his lips better at the image painted.
It was a boy, a small one, perhaps of six-seven years with brown messy hair and pale skin that wasn't covered by his poor hospital garments; what made him nauseous was the protuberance on his back—just where his spine was supposed to start, right on his Axis (C1 vertebrae)—the skin was no more, instead a blackness painting his Spinal Vertebrae stood out, flesh a pulsing red eating away at the black bones coming out from his little back, the veins popped out paling to the numerous scars that could be seen from the space naked between his shoulders the garment failed to cover. The child had no shoes on, his tiny feet scrapped with the dirty soil and his hands filled with numerous scars that matched with what little could be seen from his back.
This was wrong.
This—he—he'd never seen something so wrong like this. It was just—
Neither Robin dared to move a muscle, afraid of damaging the youth on the ground or of making his presence tangible leaving them with those consequences.
Above them, their cavalry arrived, Black Bat keeping her stay and then diving in for both her brothers who had yet to concede their appearance. Batman held on her rope, nodding to her just in case any eventuality happened whilst Jason itched for a smoke and kept his arms crossed over his chest.
The child had yet to get up, and if they watched closely, it even appeared he wasn't breathing—
-oh god, the child wasn't breathing!
It struck Damian first, who was about to lounge after the child, when Cass came into view, stealing his perturbed stare at the maimed creature enough for the young woman to give him the line and nodding mutely at the same time she adjusted a vest for the pale bird who kept his stare on the infant facing the poisonous terrain. Damian complied wordlessly, the haunting image impaled even after strapping himself, not removing his glance once as he spoke against the wind once he and Drake were good to lift.
"Bury," and Cassandra understood, watching the frail body as she made her way and carried the boy as if he were the most precious being in her life. She pressed her grappling hook up to the Batwing, following a little below the path of his brothers into their metal sanctuary, holding her cargo with hidden repent.
Batman helped Red Robin inside, while Batgirl had left the machine on autopilot to aid Night-Robin, sending a glare at the Red Hood who kept watching them silently without the slightest intention of lifting a finger for them.
"Are you guys okay?" Steph asked preoccupied and sober, the hours and excruciating missions finally taking their toll on her when Damian removed himself from her hold loosely. "Where's Cass?" she continued when not one of the boys deemed her with an answer, watching Bruce go for an emergency kit to fix Tim's broken foot.
"Here," came the solitary voice from the closing gates, carrying a broken shape between her arms dearly. She was about to question her friend's new companion but was roughly shoved out of the way by Jason, who approached the only Daughter of Wayne fiercely, his aura of danger higher than she ever heard of.
"What is that?" The renegade Robin demanded, signaling the bulge with an accusatory finger and probably showing his teeth beneath the red helmet.
Cass didn't flinch, instead drew her domino mask on the figure she held to her chest.
"He breathes." She stated, caressing his brown locks lightly, careful of not procuring any accidental damage and robbing everyone (but Batman who was still searching for the supplies), of their attention, causing an immediate attention from both of the young men who found the youth; each and every one of the four assembled Robins circling the bat who frowned visibly, making every one hold their breaths.
If asked, the whole thing radiated a magic feel, for the boy stirred after the woman uttered those words, instantly opening his orbs and hauling up part of his face to the voice he distinguished from all the chaos wrapped around him.
Eyes locked on the white's of her mask, Cassandra took a step back, unknowingly getting off from Jason's aimed grasp at her wrist and disposing of her domino cover to have brown meet one healthy-blurry blue and one dull one, the hand that had pushed away her shield from her eyes going over the boy's tangled hair, pushing away with certainty the object hiding the child's scalp and finding the expected midnight locks that shined a corresponding blue below the wig.
She recognized that hue of blue everywhere. Years be damned and one orbed damaged on his face.
"… Dick?" her trembling soft voice echoed on the tense room, only the reverberation of a box slamming against the metal floor of the jet resounded heavily, turning the four Robin's attention towards the disbelieving Bat that stared at the boy's limp figure when he was met with an electric blue and raven locks.
(1) Code Red: Lockdown/limited access signaling something dangerous is within the grounds. Official U.S. Military Army= 10-23: Disturbance.
(2) She stopped wearing her uniform long time ago. I'll post a sketch of her new one when I get the chance too.
(3) German= "Please… let me go…" I think, new to this language, so if there's anyone who knows corrections are required I would thank you for them.
(4) Yeah, it's a Bro' Joke. *Snorts* I'm sorry Sam, I just couldn't help thinking about you when this came-up. *Snickers loudly.*
(5) R3= Retreat Maneuver No. III. In which all allies go towards the exit just created and reunite at 5hrs with variation of distance from enemy's point. Instructions are to be taken from General at that point.
(6) Goo. Imagine a large amount of goo that's pretty much glue.
(7) Tactic S= Tactic Snowball. It consists of attacking the enemy from different spots with an array of small flares, miniature explosives, pellets, or, in Jason's case, bullets.
(8) Subject C= Subject Black Canary.
(9) Subject W= Subject Wonder Woman.
Author's Notes: Yep, Dick's a child, though I assure he's not going to stay that way for much, and questions behind his reappearance will start to come from next chapter on. The romance part is not for another-at least seven or eight chapters, and I'm really exaggerating on them coming so early, so fear not of pairing young!Dick with anyone. I won't. All has an explanation, and will be seen as the story goes on. In the meantime I'll just let you guess on what's going on then. Also, I'm working on having a space where all images from references used in here are situated, and for those who had trouble picturing the Building, I'll put a link on my profile to a very—very (I cannot stress the word enough) simple design of the floors Tim, Jason, and Dick travelled.
Shameless advertising continues with "Where's The Justice?" and it's on-going Prequel "It's Just Us". I read it again a couple of days ago.
For all those who added this to your alert list, favorite story and reviewed thank you.
Now, to my everlasting loving Anon, (huge review response ahead) can I just say that was one of the most fantastic highlights I've ever had with this story? You picked-up every detail I wanted to give, from something so simple like Steph's bitterness that Cass took awareness off, her being ashamed to the task for Steph, to A's-ing the whole technology department in your behalf. Gotta say I'm not sure if some of them are cannon, just think of them once my fingers get into the rhythm of the chapter being written at that moment, since that is when I know what they could, should, or would like to use to keep up. That said, it's pretty overwhelming that you see it that way. I'm also glad you loved the funding issues, since we do have to keep an element of "realism" in here, and with the system broken it figures there's been more problematic with their materials. It's perfect you loved Cass. In every single detail you enjoyed and mentioned, here was another moment of her being an amazing sister to Damian, Tim, and everyone else. Well, that's a relief to know, I do wonder sometimes if I'm not overly detailing or repeating myself too much (which I'm sure I do) given english isn't my first language; I will continue trying my best to keep you with the scenery straight for your wonderful mind. Again, I'm not sure how I got the Batwing's mechanism—just figured it'd be the best option for what I needed for the girls, you make blush and grin at your compliments, thank you so much.
There's never too much banter between Robins. It's just the way they work having all just too strong personalities. You caught those changes well Anon, I applaud you and give you Alfred's cookies. Suspenseful huh? *Smirks* I'll see what you think of this one then. Oh, you have no idea~
I'm honored to share that knowledge with you, and humbled for you to think so; I do have that comic background, though I would love to have more, the way you describe the actions from the characters is accurate and takes the words off my mouth.
You think right. Jays gonna explain more on that on Chapter IX, so there you will get some partial answers. Good detective work.
Heh, here you got that. Grumble, it's your right to do so. We shall grumble together too. Well, I'll respect your wishes and keep it as a surprise then.
They really do~ *Grins* And that makes me feel all the more warm and fuzzy inside *smirks*. I love rants, especially when they're about a common interest. More than plenty really.
You're welcome, I'll try to keep an organized base of that info for future references. And that's all the more incredible. But I love your exclamation points and faces. *Smirks* You grinning now too? It's pretty close to me *Nods*.
Yeah, she did, I appreciate your words dearly.
Anne~
