Title: Now And Then: IX
Author: DC Luder
Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.
Summary: The Family must not only deal with the loss of Huntress and Mattie's actions, but another direct hit from the Joker.
Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.
Author's Note: Some references made to Lucky Number Slevin in the last POV.
A/N 2: I seem to be writing a great deal of apologies in my Author's Notes of late when it is my evil laptop and hectic lifestyle that is to blame for my intermittent writing…
^V^
My plan had been perfect. Emphasis on had.
After a day of over reacting about my father's fight with Dick, I sequestered myself in my bedroom and waited to hear three things before taking further action. First, to hear my brother's door close from down the hall, which required perfect silence on my part and a keenly trained ear. Then, my mother walking by my bedroom, muttering and cursing under her breath while pledging revenge upon her husband. Lastly, my father's footsteps pausing at my door, then to the master bedroom before retreating to the stairs.
The scent of a freshly brewing pot of coffee, timed to start percolating when I had expected him to surface, would lure him to the kitchen. A prepared plate of leftovers in the fridge would hopefully keep him there for at least fifteen minutes. Still counting on luck, it would be just enough time for me to race down to the ground floor, through the study, down into the Cave before bee lining through the secret path between Wayne and Drake Manors.
Tim had shown it to me not long after I had found out the truth. He had said that while most boys his age had been loitering in town and causing trouble on the hill behind the high school, he had been trekking in the dark caverns of Bristol with a flashlight, singing to himself to keep the heebie jeebies at bay.
From there, it had been a GPS guided trip to town on one of the Bat cycles. Summers spent with a boy as a best friend had done wonders for my dirt bike riding skills, and the cycle wasn't that much different save for the glossy black detailing and counter-measure devices. It had been one of the cycles in the shop, with most of the gadgetry stripped in order to be used its newer, faster counterparts, including the tracking device, thus leaving me invisible to everyone.
My first act as a crime fighter happened just as I approached the on-ramp for St. James, less than a mile out of the city limits. There were two boys spray painting obscenities on a sign welcoming motorists to Gotham City. I decelerated long enough to through a bolo, wrapping the two together, causing them to spray paint each other's faces.
In the hour that lapsed from the second I passed into the city limits to when I left them in the Batmobile, I had taken down eleven criminals. Three-bits rather than two-bits, as Dick defined them, who were lowlifes with no ambition and took advantage of tourists and people unaware of their surroundings. Pick pocketers, purse snatchers and street side scam artists for the most part. The grand finale had been taking on the three men antagonizing their prey in a dark alley.
Bad things happened in dark alleys.
My first official encounter with Batman was quickly followed by my first official ride in the Batmobile and my first official Bat-glare and accompanying Bat-lecture. Where I had spent over a year fantasizing about racing across rooftops at his side, Batman had growled, snarled and snapped, unwilling to hear my explanations. We had nearly reached the Cave's secluded entrance when he pulled over and killed the engine. I had waited silently, belted in the passenger seat, with my eyes on my gloved hands fidgeting on my lap.
A sigh had grabbed my attention and my eyes had turned to my left just as Tim had pulled back his cowl. I had watched on as he ran both of his hands through his short hair before placing them on the steering wheel.
Then, "Mattie, do you know why you're important to this family?" When I didn't reply, he had continued, "It's more than the fact that you're the first born Wayne child in four decades… Or that you're the product of two natural born enemies that can't seem to live apart from one another for more than eighteen minutes… Or even that you're you," he had looked to me, "A beautiful, smart girl with a penchant for horses and ass-kicking."
I had nearly smiled until I realized he had been trying to lighten the mood. After clearing my throat, I had asked, "Then why?"
"I always thought… you were the reason he… that he remembered. He was with you, holding you, in your nursery and something hit the right nerve at the right time. I mean, he had bits and pieces but that's when it all came flooding back. If you hadn't been born, who knows what would have happened…"
My eyes looked away for a moment and when they had found their way back to Tim, he had already pulled the cowl back over his face and hit the ignition.
It wasn't the first time I had seen his eyes glassy and heavy with worry, but it had still put me on edge.
Ten minutes later, I had seen the same glassy and worried look in my father's eyes, but since it had only been the second time I had seen him in such a state in my life, I was pushed over the edge.
The morning after Nathan had been born, Alfred had taken me back down to the hospital to see my parents and my new baby brother, albeit through the sanitized plastic covering of his incubator bed. After Alfred and I had stopped in at the gift shop to buy fresh flowers for Mom, we had made the ride up to the fourth floor post-operative ward in an elevator full of doctors playing with their respected gadgetry. At the time, I had thought of another reason why I wanted to be a doctor: an iPhone.
As Alfred had stopped at the nurse's station to sign the visitor's log, I walked as quickly as possible to my mother's room, hiding my smiling face behind a bouquet of lilies. Since the door had been slightly ajar, I had simply pushed it open just enough for me to pass through. I had expected to see my father sitting in the same padded chair he had been in the night before and my mother propped up slightly in bed, both tired but happy to see me.
My father had been sitting the same padded chair but my mother wasn't propped up, tired and happy as she had been fast asleep. He had been awake, bent at the waist and face down on the empty bit of mattress beside my mother's hip. His back had been shaking and although muffled, I had still been able to hear his staggered and shallow breathing. Sobbing.
Even years later, I still remembered how frightened I had been, seeing my father emotionally broken. Excluding Alfred, he had been the only member of my family that I had thought too strong to lose control. Every asthma attack I had endured with Dad, every stumble on the soccer field, when Uncle Jim had died, he remained calm and collected.
It was when the lives of his family members were in peril, I rationalized, that he faltered.
Mom.
Nathan.
Me.
My eyes were unable to leave my father's face, more specifically the tears that slowly made their way over his stubbled cheeks. He was speaking to me, something about when it was safe, I would be able to resume training but I had a hard time hearing him. My mind still running wild, I somehow managed to reach up to touch his face, just as he had done to me a moment earlier.
Suddenly, I whispered, "Am I going to be grounded?"
His lip twitched for a moment, "Yes."
"Seriously?" I laughed, despite the fact that we were both still shedding tears.
Dad rose, turning away from me in order to rub a hand over his damp face, "For your safety… and as punishment."
I followed him as he strode towards the costume vault, nearly jogging to keep with his long strides. After we passed into the indestructible vault, I waited for him to begin his interrogation. Watching as he adjusted a few batarangs and instruments that hung from the wall, I felt my pulse begin to throb as my tongue turned into a dry slug.
He was my father, I had nothing to fear.
He was the Batman first, though…
Before Dad said anything, I decided it would be best to just tell him the truth, figuring it would not only show my bravery but my maturity as well. Just like Cass had taught me, taking the first move was always the best move.
"It was the first time I left, I swear, I---."
Without turning to me, he spoke softly, "You must not be including all of the times you practiced sneaking in and out of the house, then."
Speechless was an understatement.
"Do you honestly think I wouldn't know about that?" still with his eyes diverted.
When my voice managed to break through, it didn't declare my surprise or beg for forgiveness, but rather it asked, "Why didn't you stop me?" His lack of a reply suggested that mine wasn't the only tongue that was being held captive. After taking two steps forward, I continued, "If you thought it was so dangerous, why didn't you stop me earlier?"
Finally, he turned to look down at me, his expression completely devoid of emotion as he answered me, "I wanted to see how far you would go. How far you would push your boundaries…"
"I don't have any boundaries," I blurted out, instantly regretting doing so.
… I had always hoped Mattie would be able to live her life never having to see the real you…
His brow furrowed suddenly and he opened his mouth, but shut it without uttering a word. After relaxing his face, Dad responded with, "We all have boundaries, limitations---."
Again, the words fell out of my mouth without permission of my brain, as if they I subconsciously wanted to push, "It's family tradition to ignore them, isn't it?"
Only his left eyebrow jumped, "One that doesn't need to be continued. Studying what went on before you Mattie was to encourage you not to make the same mistakes, the same errors that myself and Dick and everyone else endured, not to repeat them word for word." Somehow, I managed to stay quiet, giving him ample time to proceed, "You assumed I didn't know about your leaving, which was your first and biggest mistake."
"I assumed leaving would be the biggest mistake---."
He interrupted me curtly, "Never assume anything."
My control over my words faltered, "So this is the real you."
Both eyebrows dropped, narrowing his eyes in a way I had never seen before.
No, I had seen it before.
At the time, I had only known that my parents had been screaming at one another in their bedroom after weeks of my father neglecting his parental responsibilities. After changing into my pajamas, I had gone to see if they would read to me n their bedroom instead of mine. My young blue eyes had found them facing one another while growling and yelling back and forth. Later, reading through my father's personal logs about how he was preparing to step down from the cowl, I had understood why my mother had been so furious and my father had been on the defense.
The look on his face, before he had spotted me in my purple nightgown hugging my stuffed pony, was forever emblazoned in my memory.
It was he only time I had seen him angry and I had hoped it would have been the last.
Too bad.
The volume of his voice softened, but the tone did not, "Dick was wrong. You will live your life without ever seeing the real me, Mattie, for which I am thankful. The anger and violence I once thrived on will only do harm, to myself… and my family."
I found my voice again, quiet under the hum of the lights above us, "You seemed plenty angry this morning."
Dad faced away once more, looking at a rack bearing ten cowls, ready for battle, "It wasn't anger that I felt this morning, Mattie… It was fear, something I've never learned to express rationally... Fear of hurting your mother has lead me to lie to her time and time again. Fear of failure driving me out of an existence that I wasn't ready to surrender," he paused until his eyes were looking down on me, "Fear of harm coming to you and your brother in any form…"
I decided to say the one he failed to mention, "Fear that we're not going to find him, that he's going to find us."
^V^
All's well that ends well.
That morning, I had woken to the sound of my daughter and husband screaming at one another. After a brief physical encounter, he had retreated to his sanctuary to brood and be miserable in solitude, leaving me to deal with the filial mess he had made. It had been unfortunately too easy considering Mattie had locked herself in her room for the day and Nathan wanted nothing more than to have a grand adventure at the Preserve.
Thus giving Bruce the entire day to formulate and carry out proper apologies to his eldest son and daughter.
Blocking out the horrific events from the night before and trying not to think about what was ahead, I gave my mind and body over to an afternoon with Nathan. Less than desirable April weather had us inside for most of the afternoon, working through the science activity center attractions before touring the medical building to check in on a few of the big cats we had on the mend.
A similar facility in the Adirondacks had to separate two of their Fisher cats that had begun a civil war. We had gladly offered one of our single turnouts to the younger male, Oskar, once his stitches were removed. Until then he was miserable and sulking in the small medicine paddock attached to his indoor pen. Nathan loved to watch him stalk about and sang the Oscar Mayer song in tempo with the cat's stride.
Clever boy.
After lunch with a few staff members in the cafeteria, we headed back towards Gotham, getting stuck in traffic on the Taconic thanks to a four car accident blocking the southbound lanes. To keep my still energetic son entertained, I pulled off at a Park and Ride and joined him the backseat to watch a DVD on the drop down screen. He had been torn between watching UP and a Spiderman movie. I suggested Spiderman simply because I wasn't too keen on watching a movie with dogs barking incessantly, that and the beginning of UP always brought tears to my eyes.
Kid's movie my ass.
As a masked Peter Parker swooped in to save Mary Jane for the millionth time, the road was cleared and Nathan was starting to drift off. Leaving the movie to finish playing out the last hour, I got back in the driver's seat and merged back onto the parkway. Arriving home, father and daughter were still in seclusion and seemingly no closer to resolving their current conflict.
Without the culinary gift of my daughter, Nathan and I settled on a simple dinner of grilled ham and cheese, tomato soup and celery sticks with peanut butter and raisins. Not exactly worthy of the fine dishware we used but it seemed to hit the spot well enough. Nathan had started to snicker halfway through the meal, making his raisin ants march off of the celery logs and into his mouth as he rested his chin on the table. When I told him he was a silly goose, he had looked up and defended, "Geese don't eat raisins… they eat real bugs."
"That they do."
He finished off the last bug and added, "Just like bats."
I paused before responding, "They do as well."
After cleaning up, I had sent him upstairs to pick out pajamas and to investigate the whereabouts of his sister so that I could go down and confront Bruce one last time before I filleted him. He had growled about how Terry had dropped by for the afternoon and that he intended to talk to her before bed.
One more hour, that was all I had intended on giving him.
An overshot.
By the time I made it to the third floor, Nathan wasn't bouncing about in his room as I had expected but instead he was on his hands and knees in Mattie's room looking under her bed. When I had asked what he was doing he had looked over his shoulder at me, "Investigating…"
"What?"
"Mattie's gone."
The carefree day I had spent with my son was forgotten as the only thing my mind could think of was that my daughter was missing.
That and the world's greatest detectives had deduced that the Joker knew who they really were.
In a numb trance, I had dialed all of Mattie's friends asking if she was there and hanging up the second they responded in the negative. After telling Nathan to go to his room and find a hiding place for an impromptu game of hide and seek, I had raced back downstairs, doing my best to keep my heart from bursting from my chest.
"Mattie's missing!" I had called out long before I spotted him, still in the computer bay, "She's not at anyone's house… her cell phone is off and…"
Rather than jump to his feet, worry washing over his features, Bruce had slowly risen from the chair and nodded, "There's nothing to worry about. She's safe…"
After learning what my daughter had done, I had managed a small sigh of relief. That was after I had slapped Bruce in the face threatened and growled at him, leaving my words looming in the dark air, "And we are not okay."
Once I had returned to my son, I had done my best to convince him that Mattie was working on some last minute homework in her father's study. He was quick to ask if he could finish his investigation but I had countered with, "I think you have the mystery of the molars to solve, first."
Teeth brushed, I had waited until he was snuggled with his favorite Giants blanket and under the watchful guard of his stuffed German Shepherd before making the final trip back to the Cave for the foreseeable future. Unlike my previous visits, Bruce was not alone in the computer bay, lost in the hideous world of murdering clowns and fallen vigilantes, but exiting the costume vault with Mattie wearing one of his housecoats. Had the last few days been less traumatic, I would have laughed at how the terry cloth dragging on the ground behind her was like a cape.
If only…
I cleared my throat, drawing a pair of matching blue eyes in my direction. Mattie paused and looked to her father, waiting for his slight nod before walking over to me.
"I'm sorry," she started.
I shook my head before doing my best to look stern with her, "Don't you ever do that again..."
"I promise," she offered a sad smile before moving in to hug me.
I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "And if you do, don't forget to invite me." After releasing her, I looked to Bruce, "Nathan's waiting for you upstairs."
Eyes never leaving my face, he nodded curtly before walking by us.
Alone, I finally asked, "Well?"
"Well what?" she returned with, pulling the sash tighter around her waist.
"Let's see it," I nodded towards the costume vault.
She glanced over her shoulder at the darkened chamber before looking back to me, "Dad said you'd ask to see my costume… he locked it in the safe."
Not surprised, I began walking towards the vault, "Please, child, there's nothing your father can hide from me. Literally and figuratively."
Aside from three vaults in the manor, one for each floor, Bruce had two more in the Cave. One was in the costume vault and the fifth was rumored to be somewhere near a hundred and eighty feet down into the darkness. Had I been ambitious enough, I would have gone down there and cracked that one, too.
The door to the costume vault itself was just a modernized version of the one to the safe that rested within. Both featured twenty bolts with chain reacting relockers in the eight inch thick torch proof stainless steel doors but the entranceway was also equipped with biometric security measures. And since he had left that door open, I didn't need Bruce's fingers or retinas to get in.
He would have been less subtle had he laid out a welcome mat and a line of breadcrumbs.
"I figured I shouldn't do a suit made of all black… that mixing yours and Dad's would make more sense," Mattie explained six minutes later as I examined the folded pieces of her uniform. Although black was a predominant color, swatches of purple leather were sewn over the heavier Kevlar lined material of the body tunic, sleeves and leggings. The boots, cape and utility belt appeared to be a standard pair from the Bat-wardrobe but the gloves were unit in that they did not have the three metal blades scalloping off of the forearm.
The cowl appeared to be exactly the same as mine save for it was black with only purple accents on the brow and over the cheeks, nearly in the fashion of tiger stripes.
Despite the fact that I was speechless with my heart throbbing in my chest, I finally managed to comment, "Too bad you can't submit this for your sewing project for home ec."
She had smirked nervously, "Yeah, this turned out way better than the pajama set I had to make."
Once we had secured the vault, we made our way to the manor in silence. I would have turned the lights out but no doubt Bruce would be heading back down in order to avoid me. When Mattie and I paused at her bedroom door, she spoke softly, "I know I should have told someone… but I knew if I did… I'd never get the chance to… you know."
"I know. But that still doesn't make what you did okay."
"I know," she repeated back to me, "I just… I wanted to help..."
"I know, kiddo."
Two kids down, one to go.
The master bedroom doors were closed and I expected the room to be empty upon opening them. The overhead light was off but the bedside and end table lamps glowed bright enough to show Bruce sitting on the couch by the bay window. As expected, he didn't turn around, not even acknowledging me until I was sitting beside him.
He spoke, barely above a whisper, "Her first night… not even an hour on the streets and she took out thirteen criminals."
"That's our girl," I replied softly.
He waited a minute before speaking again, "My first night… my first hour… I was stabbed, shot, arrested… Had to flip the police car in order to escape… Barely made it home… crashed my car into the manor… Nearly bled to death before Alfred found me in the study."
Turning to face him on the couch, I brought my legs up underneath me, not sure if another light-hearted comment would make matters better or worse. Instead, I opted for action rather than words, reaching over a setting a hand on his shoulder.
Bruce cleared his throat, "Alfred always said I was brought into this… that life through tragedy. That because my parents were murdered rather than dying in an accident or of old age even, that I was forced to sacrifice my future in order to satisfy my need for justice… same with Dick and even Cassandra…" he paused before finally looking up at me. The same somber look he had given me in the Cave the night the Joker had attacked the planetarium.
… I'm broken…
"I wanted her to have a normal life… I didn't want her to suffer as we did… I should have never told her…"
"It was only a matter of time until she would have found out on---."
He shrugged my hand off of his shoulder before getting to his feet, walking towards the window before replying, "---her own, yes, I know… But looking back, I think that telling her was worse… inviting her into that lifestyle without thinking of the consequences…"
"You never do anything without thinking every possible outcome to death, Bruce," I commented, still sitting.
He turned to face me, but rather than anger brewing in his eyes, I saw nothing but fear, "No… I didn't invite her in… Alfred's right, I was brought into this life but she… she was born into it," his voice nearly broke with emotion as he continued, "She never even had a chance because of who I was… who we were."
That brought me to my feet, my arms around his neck and my lips on cheek.
"Normal lives are overrated," I whispered in his ear before pressing my face against his chest, "I think we both are living proof to that."
"Overrated, but safe," he responded in a quiet whisper.
A smile crossed my lips, "Well, it's a good thing she can take care of herself, isn't it?"
He grunted. Finally.
I released him, my hands traveling down the front of his torso before falling to my sides, "Almost as well as I can."
The tiniest half-smirk flashed for before he replied, "I'm fairly certain I could take you. I'm over two hundred pounds, you're almost half---"
"I am half that."
"No, you're---."
"Bruce."
"… You're right, you are half that."
^V^
It had to be a dream.
Why else would Helena Bertinelli be talking to me? And why else would I be talking back?
A darkened city skyline surrounded us for miles, the usually brightly lit buildings seemingly without power and the streets dozens of stories below vacant and lifeless. The kind of dark I had only found in the deepest corners of the worlds. Without being able to recognize the buildings or streets below, I was unable to determine my position in the city, hindered further by no response from Oracle, Batgirl and Nightwing.
But there was someone…
"It's not your fault, kid," Huntress smiled at me, appearing in full costume without a scratch on her.
"I should have looked for you," I replied instinctively. My voice was soft, light, free of any gravel.
"It's my fault, I should have watched my back, kept in touch, worked with the team… The old man always told me I was reckless, that's why he never accepted me."
I shook my head violently, "I won't let you bear this burden… it's my---."
"Listen to me, kid, one Batman is enough."
"I'm Batman," I shot back, but my words lacked any conviction.
A smile crept over her lips as she reached a hand out, tussling the thick black hair on my scalp, "Are you sure?"
My eyes fell to my chest, locking on a gold R emblazoned on a red tunic. My hands did not bear the razor scalloped gauntlets but soft green gloves. Red leggings ended in green cloven toed boots as a black and yellow cape swirled about my shoulders.
She was right, I wasn't Batman.
As her hand settled on my shoulder, Huntress continued, "Someday, I'm sure you'll be able to fill his boots, kid, someday…"
I shoved her hand away, glaring up at the grin on her face, "I'm Batman."
Huntress cocked her head, letting a wave of dark hair fall from her shoulders, "You might want to be careful yelling that… never know who's listening…"
Her gaze shifted from my face for just a moment, moving to glance at something behind my left shoulder. Not a fraction of a second later, I felt a tap on my left collar bone and instinct had me duck before spinning around to face this unknown being, ready for anything.
Except for there was no one.
I stood fully before looking back towards Huntress, my eyes targeting in on a broad smile.
On a pasty white face.
"Peekaboo, I see you," the Joker grinned.
I wanted to blame it on some unknown force field or a sudden bout of tetanus, but deep down I knew it was pure fear that paralyzed me.
"Told you, kid," Huntress sighed as she approached us, "You never know who is listening…"
"Oh, it's nothing I haven't heard before," the Joker snickered as he reached over and smacked Huntress on the behind, "But it is one of my favorite tunes… say it again, Boy Blunder, loud and proud!"
"… I'm Batman."
"Tsk tsk tsk… I've heard corpses sound more convincing,… One more time," purple and white flashed before my eyes as he threw a hand out and smacked me under the chin, raising my head up, "Chin up, project it with your diaphragm… say it like you mean it!"
"I'm Batman!" I growled, swinging a green gloved fist at his smiling face.
He ducked, "Better, once more, loud as you can."
Free from my frozen stance, I lunged at him, wrapping my hands around his throat, my gloves no longer green but glistening black, "I'm Batman!!"
But it wasn't his throat anymore, it was Helena's. Her costume was tattered and her body was slick with blood, The flesh beneath my fingers was cold and without the slightest pulse of life. Her brown eyes found mine for a brief second before her final breath passed through her lips, "… I'm sorry."
I sat up so quickly that I fell off of the couch, nearly crashing into the glass coffee table.
Even though I had told myself from the beginning that it had been a dream, I found myself covered in a cold sweat, my pulse throbbing in my temples and my breath coming in short pants. Without making an attempt to bring my vitals back within normal range, I rose to my feet, shaking my head. Vision clear, I looked over my left shoulder to the wall clock hanging between matted and framed posters for Dr. No and Layer Cake. I had returned from the Sat-Cave shortly after eight in the morning, forced myself to eat a quick breakfast of a liter of water, two mangos and a six inch pastrami sub from the day before.
By eight-thirty I had passed out on the couch.
Wide awake and it was only nine-forty-five.
Doing my best to shake the image of Helena's dead face from my mind, I walked barefoot to the kitchen, surprised to see it tidied up with a fresh plate of croissants and tarts set out on the countertop next to a gurgling coffee machine. A blue Post-It sat just under the edge of an empty Snoopy mug: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, except for second breakfast. -C
I poured Snoopy full to the brim, sipped half of it down in between bites of a raspberry tart. By the time I needed a refill, the phone hanging next to the fridge sounded and I made it by the fourth ring, "Yes?"
"I cleaned and baked, I want breakfast in bed."
Click.
It took a minute to unearth a wooden serving tray from the cupboard over the stove and another two minutes to locate an appropriate mug: Woodstock. After topping myself off and pouring hers with two spoonfuls of Splenda, I put the pastry plate on the tray and proceeded to make my way upstairs.
Despite the number of windows, the room was only faintly lit through the heavy drapes. Even still, I was able to see Cass laying under the covers, Robbie's flat face resting in the canyon between her pillows and mine. At the sound of the door opening, the Boxer lifted his head, yawned and then plopped back into down heaven.
Unlike our canine child, Cass sat up at the first sight of me, pulling back the blankets so that I could join her. After setting the tray down over her thighs, I shook my head, "Already ate. Twice."
"That's okay, I won't tell," she smiled up at me.
Rather than give in, I walked around the end of the bed to her side and leaned over to kiss her brow, "Sorry… I want to get to the Manor, talk to Bruce about last night."
"Ah, my doppleganger."
"Your protégé," I corrected her.
"Good enough for you to mistake her for me," her smirk faded before she took a bite of croissant.
Instinct and suspicion took over for a moment, an inopportune moment, and I stood upright, "You knew, didn't you?"
Cass shook her head, licking her lips before responding, "Of course I didn't… Wouldn't let her go anywhere alone… not for the first time."
"You've been pushing her, asking more of her for weeks… Why?"
Cass set the croissant down and moved the tray to the bedside table before pushing back the covers, "Because she's ready for it."
I waited until she was on her feet as well before continuing, "I wasn't ready when you started training me that hard and I had spent years behind the mask. You were asked to push me to prepare me, don't tell me that's not what you did with Matt---."
My next conscious thought was that I was suddenly pressed face first against the antique armoire Barbara had given us as a housewarming gift. One arm was numb and limp at my side and the other was pulled back, contorted to the point of near dislocation. Thin fingers had my trachea pinched while the matching hand grasped my arm, nails digging deep into the flesh. Somehow, she slammed into the back of my knee and my left kidney simultaneously without any yielding on the hold on my throat and arm.
Then blackness after she slammed my head into the solid oak door.
"Damnit, Cass," I spun around to strike back but naturally she was already out of reach, heading to the bathroom. I reached it just to have the door slammed in my face.
No wonder Bruce lived alone for so long.
"Cass, I'm sorry…" I told the white door, "I just… everything is coming too fast. We've been after him for four months and the body count keeps rising… and we're no where near finding him… now Helena…"
Silence.
"Cass, please…"
The door flew back suddenly and she asked, "Do I have to knock more sense into you?"
It would have put a smile on my face.
Had there not been tears on hers.
Although she had just wrapped an arm around my neck a moment earlier in order to choke me, this time she was seeking comfort. Hot tears dripped from her cheeks, saturating my chest as she did her best to bury her face from reality.
She didn't make a sound.
"I didn't mean to be a jerk…" I offered as I snaked my arms around her torso.
She shook her head, still without a word.
"No, you're right, I've been an ass…"
Cass withdrew slightly in order to look up at me, "It's not that… It's my fault."
Helena's words from my dream flashed in my mind and I found myself uttering them aloud, "It's not your fault."
Without warning, she pushed away from me in order to retreat back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open so that I could follow her. I waited for her to sit on the edge of the tub before joining her, hesitating before settling an arm around her shoulders. For as long as I had known her, Cassandra had been one of the very few people in my life that was never phased by anything. Naturally, Bruce, Alfred and J'onn J'onzz were also on the list.
Seeing her so emotionally unstable was frightening, far more than the Joker's taunts, both real and imagined.
Once she had regained control of her breathing, Cass spoke without looking at me, "I was the last to see her… Barbara figured it out. Last time she was on radar. There was a scream for help… she left to take care of it… I came to the Clocktower. Could have helped her… Should have…"
Cass had reverted back to her abbreviated verbalisms. Not good.
"Helena spent years battling on her own… there was no reason to suspect that she wouldn't be able to handle herself… and who's to say that was when he took her? There's no way of knowing---."
Her eyes shot to mine, anger fluttering briefly, "I knew. Something not right. I knew…"
"Do I need to knock some sense into you?" I managed a sad smile.
"Tim…"
I shook my head, "No, you've been after my case for years, telling me I can't blame myself for things that are out of my control, now it's time you had a taste of your own medicine."
She was quiet for a moment before responding, "Fine, Helena was out of my control but… Mattie wasn't."
I suddenly flashed back to the night before, seeing Mattie taking on three men, twice her size, all the while fighting back a smile. Leaning forward, I kissed her brow before setting my chin on her head, "Something tells me that she is beyond our control…"
^V^
There was a distinct possibility that the Joker knew who Bruce and Dick were, if not Tim and Cassandra as well.
"Up, up, up, up…. Weeee, down…."
The giggles of toddler and father filled the kitchen.
Even if he didn't, I was still the daughter of Commissioner James Gordon… I had the scars to prove it.
"Up, up, up, up…"
"Weeee, dow."
Helena Bertinelli had been tortured to death at the hands of the pasty faced madman.
"Up, up…" Dick started.
Ethan finished, "Uh, uh…. Weeee dow."
Mattie had snuck into the city, beneath all of our radar.
"Uh, uh, uh, uh… weeeee, dow."
"Good job, mister, thirsty work… let's finish off our Mott's for Tots.
I watched on as Dick sat beside Ethan's high chair, holding up a toddlerized juice box to our son's pink lips. Ethan opened wide before chomping down on the straw, taking four hungry gulps before letting go and turning his focus back to the game he had just been playing. As he said "uh" he tapped Dick's arm, moving as high as he could reach before letting it slide back down while he declared, "weeeee, dow."
The happy looks on their faces were entrancing.
"Babs?"
"What?"
"I asked if you could get me another yogurt, I think I can con him into eating some more."
Nodding, I about faced from the small kitchen table before retrieving a vanilla yogurt from the fridge, "Did he finish his turkey?"
Dick thanked me for the yogurt before answering, "Most of it, the rest he decided to feed to Frank."
Ever since Ethan had taken an active role at meals, Frank had become his best friend, sitting at the foot of the high chair waiting for bits and pieces to be dropped on the floor. I glanced over and sure enough, Frank was intently staring upwards, the only sign of movement coming from a string of drool dangling from his little, flat, face.
I waited until Dick had fed Ethan a third of the cup before vocalizing the thoughts that had been haunting me over the last twenty-four hours, "I think we should tell him."
Despite his swollen lip, Dick smiled as he scooped up a bit of white from Ethan's chin, "Fine… Ethan, my boy… I used to be in a circus and my best friend was an elephant."
"I'm not kidding, Dick."
"What do you want to tell who?" he continued, his smile growing as Ethan tried to resume the Up game.
"We should tell Jim... And Maureen."
"That's the who…" Dick replied, as he tried to get one more spoonful in. When Ethan shook his head no, Dick wiped the little blue plastic spoon and set it down on the tray for him to play with.
"The truth."
"… the whole truth and nothing but the truth," he countered, this time without a hint of humor.
Thankfully, Jim, Maureen and baby Sarah were in Chicago until Sunday night, visiting family and friends, including my father's ex-wife. Given that Jim Jr. had spent most of his life in Chicago, away from the horrors of Gotham City, I was uncertain as to how much he knew of our father's life. Or rather what role it had played in the Joker's hatred for all things law abiding and good.
"We don't have to tell them everything… it's common knowledge that the Joker has had it in for anyone in the Gordon family… Maybe we can talk them in to staying in Chicago, at least until things are safe."
He nodded for a moment before seeing if Ethan wanted another sip of juice. Again he was shut down. "Might not be a bad idea… I mean, sure we'll watch out for them but sometimes being a little paranoid yourself can't hurt."
As Ethan began drawing invisible squiggles on his tray with the spoon, I proceeded, "They need more than paranoia… I want you guys to bring their security system up… I'll talk to him about getting a firearm license, dropping Dad's name should speed things up---."
"Slow down, Babs… I mean… their system is on par with ours, save for the self-destruct option. Tim and I made sure of it before they moved in… And what makes you think he'd want a gun?"
"He's a guy… who's dad was a cop… who'd stop at nothing to protect his family…" I was surprised at the emotion in my voice, nearly as much as Dick appeared to be.
He stood, moving slowly before kneeling in front of me, wrapping his forearms around my waist, "I'm a guy… who was a cop… and I will do anything to protect our family, Barbara."
I bit my lip, trying to fight the burning in my throat by looking over at Ethan as he rambled in his own language.
"I'll tell you what, "I'll take him to the shooting range when they get back, see if he's into it… if not, I'll hire Roy to guard the house."
"He is the better shot," I forced a smirk.
"Ah, but I have the better ass," he leaned forward and kissed my lips softly before getting back to his feet, "All right, Ethan, let's get you washed up… I think it's well beyond your nap time… And mine."
After he wiped the mess from tiny cheeks and tinier hands, Dick took Ethan into the nursery to change him and put him down to sleep for the afternoon. He had stayed home from the office given the fact that his face was still marked with the ugly bruise and split lip. Will was already curious about the hours everyone was keeping, adding an injury to the mix would only raise more questions.
Once the kitchen was cleaned up, I retreated to the den rather than the computer-laden chamber I had been practically living in over the last few months, After pulling myself up onto the couch, I waited for Dick to emerge from the hallway, "In here."
He stopped in the arched entrance before walking through, reclining onto the couch before setting his head in my lap with a content sigh. Dick pursed his lips together, pantomiming a kiss before closing his eyes.
After a quiet moment, his lids fluttered open, his eyes instantly taking on concern upon seeing mine were glassy. In less than a second, he had sat up, moved to sit next to me and wrapped his arms around me, this time pulling me close to his chest.
"It's okay," he murmured.
"She's gone… I… why would he choose her, of all of us, why her?" I fought back tears as I pressed my face into his shirt.
"I don't know… Without a boy wonder, there was no other brightly colored junior crime fighter for him to set his sights on," he offered.
"That's not funny," I replied.
"Can't blame a guy for trying…" he kissed my cheek, "Why does a hero fall? Too brave, too careless… wrong place at the wrong time… most of the time they're trying to save someone, disregarding their safety for someone else's. And knowing her… all of the above."
"Had something in common…" I sniffled.
"What?"
I explained, "Bruce and Helena… never got along… but at least they had something in common… too brave, too careless… wrong place at the wrong time…"
And always disregarding themselves in order to save others, I left silent, trying not to think of the three bullets he took to save my father's life. One among countless other self-sacrifices he's made for thousands of others…
We were quiet again, this time until my eyes were dry and my breaths came slow and quiet. I thought Dick had fallen asleep but when I finally looked up, his eyes were not only open but intensely focused.
"I think we should tell him," he spoke softly.
I quoted him from earlier, "What do you want to tell who?"
"Will… the truth," he hesitated before, "The whole truth."
"And nothing but the truth," I finished for him, "Going to talk to Tim about that one?"
"Yep," he began rubbing my back slowly, "Seriously, what do you think? I mean, he's a guy… who was a cop… and he also would do anything to protect his family… and… I think he deserves to know."
"Didn't he draw a unibrow on you recently?"
"I'm mature enough to forget such antics … that and I spiked his coffee with Cialis, so technically we're even…" his hand stilled, "And how come every time I try to have a serious conversation you make me sound significantly less serious?"
I bowed my head, "Sorry, proceed, oh Serious One."
The Serious One took on a painfully serious tone, "He deserves the truth… After all he's done for us, for all of us… he deserves to be a part of the Family."
I was about to reply before the phone rang from the far end table. Dick let go of me in order to retrieve it, "Hello? Oh hey… You're what?… No, no it's just that I thought… You should come over for dinner, then… sure, no problem at all… All right, we'll see you then. Bye."
"Who was it?" I asked as he set the phone back in it's cradle.
"Jim… he and Sarah came home early, guess he had a fight with Mo… She's not too keen about everything going on here… staying in Chicago until Wednesday… but he said that he and Sarah would be over for dinner so maybe we could tell him tonight."
"And Will?"
"One at a time, Babs, you know how short my attention span is."
For the first time in far too long, I managed a real smile.
^V^
A week after she had been found on the rooftop of police headquarters, Helena Bertinelli was laid to rest in her family's mausoleum, high on a the sloping grassy hill overlooking the city.
While Dick, Barbara, Cassandra and Tim attended the funeral mass at St. Andrew's Roman Catholic church, I waited vigilantly in the cemetery for the procession to arrive. Barbara had reported in just before the service had begun, claiming more than three-quarters in attendance were previous students of hers, barely any sign of what little, staggered extended family she had left. No clowns as of yet.
Selina had not only our children, but Ethan as well, under guard back at Wayne Manor. For the last week, my children had been attending school but I was certain to drop them off and pick them up, cancelling all extra-curricular activities until further notice. Nathan saw it as more time to spend with me at home and was more than happy to oblige. Mattie, on the other hand, had taken the recluse approach, locking herself away in her bedroom and blaring alternative rock music.
Since her brief night out as a vigilante, we had been balancing precariously on the edge of loving father and daughter and unmerciful captor and captive. Selina had suggested I at least let her down in the Cave to watch on as I helped monitor patrols and study hidden surveillance camera footage. Rather than objecting to the notion, I had been quick to propose it to Mattie.
Her eyes had lit up brightly for the first time since her house arrest sentence had begun
I had used our time alone as wisely as possible, trying to replay her actions over the last few weeks, including her work with Cassandra. Eventually, I found the courage to ask her if she had formed a name for herself. She had been reluctant to answer, "Well, I hope it's okay… but… I was thinking… Huntress."
"Huntress," I had replied, more shocked than anything.
"I mean… there was another Robin, Batgirl, Batman… there has to be another Huntress."
End of story.
No doubt she had expected to have full use of the Cave, including her treasured gymnastic equipment. On a particularly slow evening, she had meandered over to practice on the balance beam and I had promptly told her no, thus ending Mattie's interest in being in the Cave with me. She had been quick to report my actions to her mother and when I had surfaced late that night, I was met with an earful from Selina. I did my best to ignore the rant while I washed up and changed for the few hours of sleep I had ahead of me. In summary, I was crossing the boundaries of grounding her, I was holding her and Nathan prisoners in their own home.
As the glossy hearse pulled up the narrow drive of the cemetery, I reasoned that my actions were justly precautious.
The April showers had finally dissimilated earlier in the week and that morning was met with pale blue skies and abundant sunshine but little warmth. Mattie had selected my garb for the day, a black, wool Hugo Boss three piece, a violet shirt with a tie two shades darker. I had asked her about the color scheme and she had replied with a sad look on her face, "I didn't know her… but… I think she'd like it. You know, kind of a special way to pay your respect."
Pay my respect.
On some level I was at the cemetery to do just that, offer silent acknowledgement of a life lost too soon. More importantly, I was there to keep an eye out for unwelcome mourners, namely those that were responsible for her funeral taking place to begin with. Since the rooftop, there had been no "Old" crimes or any sign of the Joker, Harley or BoBo. With all clues pointing to the fact that he knew who we were, we had been on full alert, waiting for him to strike. The fact that he had gone back into seclusion had made matters only worse.
While waiting for my father to come home from the hospital as a child, I was often anxious, causing a ruckus through the halls of Wayne Manor. As I had recently read in Alfred's journal, my mother had tried to tame me by saying that patience was the most important tool of a surgeon.
Alfred had quoted my seven-year-old words, "I thought the scalpel was?"
She had laughed, "That helps, but you have to be patient first, Brucie."
Waiting for my father to come home after a long day in the OR seemed ridiculous
compared to what I was enduring…
Waiting for my greatest enemy to strike out at my Family.
My cell phone chirped in my coat pocket and I reached for it, surprised to see a text message from Barbara: where r u?
I replied, bypassing the lazy vernacular that everyone seemed partial to: I'm standing next to the Crandall mausoleum, straight across from the Bertinelli's.
My next interaction with her was of the physical sense as she waved at me once Dick had helped her from the town car. I nodded in response but made no move to approach her, even as Tim and Cassandra stepped out of the vehicle. Tim nodded over to me and Cassandra offered a sad smile.
I might have been a stone statue for all Dick cared…
Remaining outside, I watched on as the pallbearers, none of whom I recognized, carried a stunning black and silver casket into the massive stone structure. The few attendants followed suit, including those that knew the deceased better as the Huntress. My watch put it at a little after eleven-thirty, nearly four hours since I had left Wayne Manor.
My heart jumped at the sight of Cassandra coming outside not fifteen minutes after she had entered the mausoleum and I found myself tensing, ready for anything. Anything with exception of her walking towards me, fighting back tears and clenching a trembling lip in her incisors.
"Is everything all right?" I asked, an inquiry completely devoid of compassion.
Cassandra nodded and wiped at a stray tear that had escaped her left eye. A lifetime of tutelage from Alfred had instinct forcing me to retrieve my handkerchief before offering it to her. She offered a silent thanks before dabbing at her eyes, "Sorry… just… was doing okay until…"
"It's difficult… when the finality hits." My words were cold, I would have been better off not saying anything.
She bit her lip again before responding, "Sad when Commissioner died... But he was so sick... So long… This is different… so quick… so pointless…"
I fought back images four decades old, of my father's blood pooling at my feet, my mother's body twitching, pearls bouncing…
Looking up at me, Cassandra continued, "Been two of them, hate them."
Tim had explained earlier in the week that Cassandra had been fairly upset over the loss of Helena. As with any stressful situation, she had taken to using a minimal vocabulary and maximum violence. He still had a bump on his brow to prove her actions were speaking louder than her words. Even still, I knew exactly what she meant as I had been saying the same for years.
I hated funerals.
The dark-garbed group emerged twenty minutes later, somber faces both young and old. Tim approached us while Dick and Barbara returned to the car, no doubt eager to get back to the Manor and retrieve their son before I returned home. I looked away as Tim paused beside Cassandra, hugging her briefly before kissing her cheek, "You all right?"
As I looked back, she answered, "Will be… after I hit something."
Tim ducked playfully, causing her to laugh softly. "Sorry, force of habit around you."
She returned my handkerchief, "Thank you."
"Didn't do anything," I started to reply.
Without notice, she wrapped her arms around me, standing on her tiptoes as she whispered in my ear, "Yes, you did." After releasing me, she turned around slowly, smiled at Tim and then punched him in the arm, promptly declaring, "Feel better already."
As she walked away, Tim gently rubbed his arm, "Hopefully we don't pass any Punch Bugs on the way home…" My confused look led him to shake his head, "Never mind… Were you coming down tonight, to the Clocktower?"
He had wanted a complete rehash of evidence and events to date that evening before patrols in hopes of sparking something new. I cleared my throat, "I'll be better off working from the Cave… rather than risking Barbara's wrath reaching for one of her computers."
Tim smirked, knowing the true reasoning behind my decision, "Right… Well, see you at seven then… Oh, I almost forgot… Bryce and Kelsey were at the funeral… Overheard them talking about tracking down BoBo's brother in Pennsylvania… they hope to have him in custody by tonight, he's wanted for armed robbery and few other gems… they want to try to plea bargain with him but…"
I interrupted him, "It might be worthwhile, the family, from what I can tell, is fairly disambiguated… considering most of them are criminals."
"The ties that bind… or not," he sighed before bidding farewell once more.
Seeing how I was there, and that Dick would need at least an hour to get to and from Bristol, I navigated the countless rows to Vesper's grave, decorating it with a white rose. I had never found the therapeutic value in talking to headstones, so instead I stood stoically before her final resting place. After a solemn five minutes of reliving the untimely death of yet another person in my life, I decided to move on to visit another resident.
A fifteen minute walk led me to a large granite marker with James Worthington Gordon engraved on its front. Where I had found nothing to say to Vesper, I found words falling from my lips for him, "It's been awhile, Jim… Surely Barbara's been by to keep you updated on Sarah and Ethan… and Frank… And him... He's still out there, as sadistic as ever… and now he's killed one of us… the Huntress…"
I sighed before bowing my head, "Helena."
After drawing a long breath, I continued, "I don't want to believe that she told him who we are but knowing what he did to her… She was a strong woman, but even I wouldn't expect her to stand up to his worst…" I hesitated suddenly feeling the dryness in my throat and the heat in my eyes, "I can't help but think… that if it comes down to it, if he comes after my Family… and without you here… there's no one to stop me."
My cell phone came to life, causing me to startle. I answered it after seeing it was the Manor's landline, "Yes?"
"Dad, it's me. Nathan."
I found a smirk on my lips as I responded, "I know it's you, tiger. I'll be home in twenty minutes, make sure you're ready to go."
"I am… and my room is clean and my clothes are put away and I even helped Mom and Mattie clean out the pantry…"
My gaze fell to Jim's tombstone and I cleared my throat before saying, "Sounds like you had a busy morning."
"You have no idea, Dad… I haven't even had time to paint his name on his bowl…"
Selina and I had decided that we would finally get him his much desired German Shepherd for two reasons. First, was to reward the improvements in his speech, overcoming his severe case of rhotacism that he had suffered since he was a toddler. Secondly, and more importantly, the dog was to be a secondary form of protection for both him and Mattie.
The trainer, who was the primary source for police and personal protection dogs in the northeast, had hand selected a three-year-old dark sable male German Shepherd for us. As a Level III dog, he was capable of acting as a deterrent, chasing, tracking and even taking down an aggressor both on command and under his own accord. After the mandatory week long handler training at the facility, Nathan's new best friend was ready to come home.
Selina was uneasy at first and came to watch our son interact with the one-hundred and thirty pound dog for the first time. It was quickly evident that the only human in danger would be anyone intending harm on the child, considering the animal followed Nathan everywhere, licked his hair until it was matted to his face and played fetch until its tongue was on the ground.
"Mrs. Wayne, let me assure you, this animal isn't a security system, he's a family member… he'll sleep at your feet while you're on the computer, catch tennis balls in the back yard… anything as long as it involves his family… If anyone threatens his family… he will do whatever it takes to protect you."
On the ride home that night, Selina had said, "You're letting it out in the mornings when it's cold… No, strike that, every morning."
"Yes, dear."
Before hanging up with Nathan, I asked, "What name did you decide on?"
"Mattie helped… since he's like a pet detective… Ace Ventura, but Ace for short."
^V^
Seven days.
Lucky number seven.
Or was it slevin?
Great flick, Goodkat, the Rabbi, the Boss, the Fairy, Bad Dog…
Speaking of which…
"HARLEY?"
I had spent most of the afternoon in the leather recliner, situated in the snazzy den of our humble abode. For a week, Harley had gone about playing housewife, putzing around in a French maid outfit she had picked up at a masquerade store. After our encounter with the youngest bat brat, she had bled all over her lovely harlequin outfit and had to go out and buy a new one. The window display's black and white mini-dress complete with feather duster had been difficult to pass by, in addition to a number of other costumes.
She skipped into the room, this time wearing a school girl's outfit, "Yes, Mistah J?"
"Have you finished your homework?"
She nodded enthusiastically, blond pigtails bouncing on either side of her head, "You bet!" Harley approached as I remained horizontal in the chair. She watched on eagerly as I skimmed the notes she had taken over the last few days on her very important assignment,
"Hmm, both leave for work separate cars… a fight on Wednesday… and Friday… marital bliss can be so blissless…"
"Except for us, right puddin'?"
I peered over the papers at her, "I have yet to grade this… shall I fetch my red pen?"
She shook her head, "No, no, that's okay… Sorry."
I continued skimming, reading bits aloud, "Mom and offspring home by four, Dad by… what's this say? Six-what?"
"Six-thirty," she clarified her bubbly handwriting.
"You'll be writing repetitions on the chalkboard after school tomorrow…" I mumbled before continuing louder, "Dinner as one big happy family, offspring off to bed by eight… another fight between the parental units… Mom upstairs to bed by eleven… Dad downstairs until the wee hours… then sneaks upstairs to bed… Hmm, interesting…"
"What's interesting, puddin'?"
In addition to throwing the pages into the air, I jumped from the recliner so quickly that Harley leapt back, tripping over and ottoman before crashing to the carpet. I smiled heartily before offering her a hand. After she tentatively latched on, I helped her to her feet before kissing her right on the lips. "What's interesting, Harley my dear, is that of all little branches on this wretched family tree, I had expected this one to be the happiest…"
"So, I did a good job?" she asked softly.
"Better than good, Harls, you did an outstanding job! Check plus!"
She leapt into my arms, wrapping her slender arms around my neck, "Oh, thank you, puddin', thank you, thank you--ooo!" she cried out as I let go of her, letting her fall to the ground once more.
"No one likes a teacher's pet… And besides, your assignment isn't done quite yet… you have some extra credit to do."
As she got to her feet on her own, Harley smoothed out the tiny plaid skirt before asking, "Extra credit? Like making a diorama?"
"More like die-o-rama…" I proceeded into the kitchen, reviewing the various charts, maps, lists and food wrappers that carpeted the table. I picked up a crude picture I had drawn of our late night destination and promptly secured it on the fridge with a magnet, "The old Kansas City Shuffle."
"You know I can only granny shuffle… My fingers are too short to do the fancy stuff," Harley complained as she looked over my shoulder.
I turned around and took her pixie chin in my hand, "The Kansas City Shuffle, my dear, is when everybody looks right," I moved her to face the right, "And you go left."
"My left or your left?"
I patted her head gently, "Do I have to revoke the plus on my check plus?" After she shook her head, I pretended to steal her nose, "That's my girl, now run along and change into something more… professional."
"Like the nurse outfit?"
Stomaching the sudden urge to give her the need for a nurse's attention, I responded, "Think less medical, more criminal."
"Gotcha!" she spun around and bee lined for the stairs.
I followed her, less enthusiastically, knowing I was in need of a fresh set of clothes as well. After all, it was bad for business to be out on the town in Dartmouth sweatpants and a teal Ron Jon tee shirt. Perhaps I should have had Harley pick me up a few things while she had been on her shopping spree.
Ah, who was I kidding, this called for the classic look, the one they all knew and loved.
Dressed and dapper, I had Harley let the Doc out for a potty break and quick dinner. I was impressed with how long he had made it, especially after the whole standing by and watching the busty bat-babe going one-on-one with BoBo. That would have surely been enough to send even the moderately sane person over the edge.
I went out to warm up the Hummer, of which I felt was far superior than the pesky Batmobile given that it was able to run over SUV's and pedestrians without spilling so much as drop of chi tea from the cup holder. Then again, I had yet to mount rocket launchers on the hood…
We made good time to our first stop, gathering up a few supplies at the pawn shop while the attendant slept at his desk. I was half tempted to shoot him but decided he was already short for this world considering his girth. From there, I had Harley top off the gas guzzler at an empty station, using the docks Pay n Go Pass in the interest of saving time.
Timing was everything.
And in order to give us more time, I ran into the station and turned the attendant and two shoppers into Swiss cheese.
The fifteen minute ride was spent going over the Shuffle with Harley. Once she was able to recite it word for word with her eyes closed, with one hand patting her head and the other rubbing her belly, I decided she was ready.
Rather than taking the time to find a spot to park on the street, I opted for driving into the front lawn of the well-manicured home, stopping just short of the front door. I had been tempted to cut the electric and phone lines but decided it would only take the guest of honor that much longer to arrive. While Harley barged through the front door, semi-automatics blazing as she shot at random, Kansas City Shuffle commenced.
Everybody looks to the right… I go to the left.
I ran through the back door, kicking it in with sufficient ease thanks to nightly thigh mastering. As bullets continued to bounce and crash in the front of the house, I heard the screams of both adult and child alike from upstairs. Guess Mom and Dad reconciled and went to be early.
Skipping up the stairs, I found myself already giggling.
Thankfully, Mom and Dad hadn't reached the nursery before me, no doubt cowering in their bedroom, dodging bullets as they came up through the floorboards. Harley had been strictly informed as to where to aim and if she sent a bullet my way, she'd be on the receiving end of a serious check minus.
As I opened the door, I was met with shrill cries and wails.
"There, there, my dear, Uncle J is here…"
"Get away from my child, you bastard!!"
I spun around, dodging just in time to duck the swinging arc of a baseball bat. Before my assailant could take another strike, I released the spring loaded blade in my shirt cuff, driving it into his abdomen, "Tsk, tsk, my dear boy… didn't your Daddy teach you how to swing that correctly? You're supposed to hit the ball!" I kneed him in the groin before pulling the blade out.
As I stood, he fell, doubling over as blood came to his lips.
"Oh, that's right… Daddy wasn't around growing up…" I glanced to the red faced child, standing up in bed, "And if you don't smarten up, this one'll never know how to swing a bat either."
He started to get to his feet again and I kicked him in the face, "Your Daddy couldn't beat me, what makes you think that you can, kiddo?" When his limp body didn't respond, I nodded, "Good answer."
Harley came upstairs having silenced the missus as ordered, coming into the nursery with blood on the butt of her gun, "Bunch of crybabies…"
It didn't take long to find the panic room and Harls grunted heavily as I had her drag the unconscious parental over to lock them up while I coddled and doted upon the young child. As I walked about with the little munchkin in my arms, bouncing up down slightly, I told her of all the good times her grandfather and I had over the years, all the laughs we had shared.
"We got company!" Harley cried out just as I was telling the peanut about the smiling fish.
"JOKER!!!!!" a bellow came from below.
"Harls, go out the back and pull the car around for our hasty getaway."
"But what about---."
I kissed the cheek of the little smiling face in front of me, "Don't worry, I've got leverage."
As feet flew up the main stairwell, I retreated to the back one, making sure the lights were on to prevent any mishaps. When the footfalls careened down the corridor, stopping to search the empty, bloodied rooms, I called out, "Marco!"
I had expected the little bird but thankfully it had been the big bird, which would allow for far more emotional pull. He stopped in his tracks fifteen yards away, fists clenched, breaths coming in heavy grunts, "What have you done with them, you sonofabitch!"
Rolling my eyes, I answered, "Such language, in front of the little one… You should know better, boy wonder… I bet Batsy had to wash your mouth out with lye soap every night…"
"Where are they?!" he roared, taking three strides forward.
"At, at, at… wouldn't get much closer than that… After all, I'm dreadful at holding onto these things…" I turned slightly, outstretching my arms to hold the child out above the sixteen foot droop down the steps.
The fury that had been glowing in the mask's eyes changed slightly, suddenly appraising just how little control he had over the situation. Daddy was able to set me off once in a while with the growl tactics, but after seeing this one spend his puberty in tights and pixie boots…
And the little bird, well, he was down right adorable dressing up as the big bad Bat.
"Joker… if you harm that child…"
"What, you'll harm me? You hurt me, I hurt the wee one, you hurt me more… Doesn't sound like fun to me… But hide and go seek, now there's good time."
"Hide and go seek?"
"Well, you can be it first seeing how you're the last to arrive… you get to find the still breathing, although not for long, bodies that are hidden in this house…"
"You think I'm here alone?" his lip twitched.
"Oh, Uncle J knows you're here alone."
He chanced another step forward and I dropped the little one a foot before taking hold once more, filling the tense hallway with little giggles.
The boy in black and blue offered empty hands, his breaths still coming heavy but fear lacing each inhalation, "Give her to me, unharmed… I'll let you go."
"Threatening to bargaining? No wonder he didn't give you the cowl…" I shook my head in shame, "At least the little one put in a good fight before giving in…"
There was a loud horn honk from behind the house, and we both looked in its direction.
I pretended to drop the toddler again, causing my foe to startle.
"These things are hard to hang on to… then I guess you already knew that… almost as well as your dearly departed in-law's, rest their souls…"
The look of anger and fear on his face vanished as shock washed over him.
"Oh, look at that, little Sarah, your Uncle Dick thought he could keep secrets from his Uncle J…"
She reached up and gently touched my cheeks, giggling softly.
I kissed her tiny little button of a nose before looking to the Blue Wonder. Before I leapt down the straight shot of stairs, I threw the pink pajama clad body at him, "Bat-ter up!"
^V^
