Disclaimer thing. I have no legal rights to Batman and company, nor have I made any money on this. Please read and review, I am curious what you think of this story. Oh, and that mention of a Marvel character? It should be along any time now.

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Chapter Ten – Vengeance

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"What can we do, Master Grayson?" Alfred spoke into the silence that fell over the two of them after Robin placed the phone receiver back into it's cradle.

Robin sighed, and started looking through the storage area for one of the glider wings. "I don't really know, but sitting around here will solve nothing and just drive me up the nearest wall. I'm going out there to see if I can find him, and if necessary, stop him before someone dies." Pulling out the glider wing, he checked the fuel tanks for their levels. "There's about three hours of flight in one of these things. Hopefully it won't take that long for me to find Bruce." He started pulling the straps into place, until Alfred interrupted him.

"Might I recommend, changing into the arctic uniform? It is bitter cold out there, and I am sure that the wind chill while in the glider is going to make it that much worse."

"Good idea. And I'll be using one of the full face helmets. I'll be on our usual channel, you need to listen in, and let me know if you get a direction from someone. I'm sure that the Riddler is not going to be the only crook that ends up hurt. Keep an ear on the police scanner channels for me. It's not like I'm going to be able to change channels in mid-flight." Pulling the straps into place, he fastened them and headed to one of the launch areas in the cavern. Firing up the engine, Robin took to the air and headed out into the night sky.

"God speed, Robin." Alfred could feel his age as he walked over to the computer bank and took a seat. Turning on the police channels and the one connecting him to Robin's headset, he closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. Then he turned his attention to the channels, hoping to find something that would help, part of him hoping that he found nothing so wrong that it could not be corrected.

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Batman continued his flight, his eyes peering down on the city streets below him as he passed over them. The voice in the back of his head warned him that there was something going on, something that required his attention, but he could not find it. It was the sound of a scream that caught his attention, and he turned in mid-air to follow the sound as it echoed through the man made canyons.

He landed in an alley, seeing through the falling sleet further into the alley. Someone was holding a pistol on a woman. She was dressed in hooker chic with little consideration for the frigid weather, and she was being pushed around by a man that, to Batman's senses, reeked of alcohol and cocaine.

"Let me go! I don't have anything!" She struggled in the man's grasp, as he pulled on her purse. "I've cashed out for the night, Stevie! I don't have anything for you!"

"Oh, you'll give something up of value, you little tramp. You know what it's like to hold out on me." Backhanding her with the pistol, she fell to the littered concrete with her nose blossoming blood. Stevie started rummaging through her purse, not paying much attention to the crying prostitute on the ground on front of him. But he did look around when her crying went to screaming, and she struggled to her feet so she could run away.

"That is not the way to treat a lady, no matter what her occupation may be." Stevie knew that voice, he'd heard it enough times described by fellow street scum. It was deeper and rougher than he had imagined it to be, but no one else would be out on a night like this, defending hookers. Turning around slowly while dropping the purse, he fired a few shots at the approaching figure.

Time seemed to slow down to Stevie, he could see the four bullets sliding through the bitter air towards the thing that looked like Batman. As each bullet hit the chest, it shattered into slivers of lead, scattering over the garbage that was piled up on the ground. Batman grinned, showing a face full of fangs. "That won't work, not anymore."

"Who are you? What the fuck are you?" Stevie fell to his knees, as his heart started pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. It was worse than any cocaine rush, and he could literally hear his blood running though his skull.

"I am the night. I am vengeance."

"Shit, Johnny Blaze is vengeance. You, you're some freak!" Stevie tried to get back to his feet, but his muscles were not answering the directions of his brain. The horrific visage of a man walked closer, and held out a clawed hand. The hand opened, and it was full of white powder.

"This is your crime. This is the chemical that you use as an excuse for your actions." The powder blew away in streamers in the chilled wind. "Do you know how many are harmed, because of your desire for this drug? The children abandoned, the women beaten, over this damned chemical? It's time to get clean, Stevie. It's time for some rehab." Batman reached out for the man on the ground, and wrapped his hands around Stevie's upper arms. Then he let out a frozen breath, blowing on the face of the cocaine addict.

Powder flew everywhere, as the drug was removed from his blood through his pores. Stevie started screaming, as the detox symptoms took over his body. Dropping the now completely clean addict on the grimy concrete, Batman turned to the shocked and silent hooker.

"If you want this scum to live to see sunrise, I recommend that you inform the paramedics of his location." He started to walk away, then turned his head to the side. "After all, if you let him die in this alley, I'll come for you too eventually. Crime is crime. Keep your legs closed, or you're next." Batman walked a bit farther, then spread his wings and took to the winds again. The prostitute took a quick glance around, then reached for her abandoned purse. She had a call to make, and she only hoped that she could still get signal on her cellphone.

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"Robin, there is a call for paramedics in the South District. Apparently the call was made by a prostitute that claims that someone that vaguely looked like Batman, but can fly, pulled all the drugs out of an addict. With his breath. That places Batman in the area you are about to fly through, approximately three blocks to the west. Please, be careful. We do not know all that he is capable of, at this time."

"I'm on it. I've got about two and a half hours before I have to head back to the Bat Cave for a refill. Here's to hoping I can get to him, before one of the police choppers can catch him." Robin glanced at the heads up display in his helmet, and sighed. "I know this sounds really bad, but I'm hoping he will get distracted, and stay in the same area for longer than five minutes at a time. He's on unlimited fuel, as far as we can tell, and that's a problem."

Alfred clicked on some keys, and pulled up on one of the monitors a map of Gotham. "I understand, Master Robin. It is unconscionable to hope for more news, considering what it represents, but I do understand. Should I inform the police about this problem?"

"Not yet. So far, he hasn't killed anyone. He crosses that line, and it's all over but the funny papers. Keep me posted."

"I shall." Alfred leaned back, and rubbed his eyes yet again. He was definitely feeling his age that night. To himself, "I shall watch as long as I am able to. I will not give up on him." Pulling up a different list on another monitor, Alfred starting reading through the list. He also found his hand reaching to the phone. He needed help, and he was realizing that him and Robin might not be enough this time around.

The phone rang for a few moments, then a sleepy voice answered. "Hello?"

"Dr. Thompson, this is Alfred Pennyworth. We are in need of some assistance at the mansion."

"Is Bruce alright? Is he hurt?"

"In a way that I do not think we can cure with medical experience. But I could use someone to talk to down here."

"I'll be there as fast as the roads let me drive."

"Thank you. I'll be waiting for your arrival."

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