Chapter 9
Gotham; April 19th, 02:36 EST
Standing on the ledge of a building, I stare down at the street below, my cape whipping in the wind. I managed to stop a drug deal that was going down, stopping Ash from being sold to a couple of teenagers, but it barely makes a dent in the problem that is growing larger and larger with every passing day. It feels like a single glass of water being taken out of the ocean, making little difference to my city that is quickly spiraling further into darkness.
I glance down at the small bag of Ash in my hand, my anger escalating the longer I stare at it. My fingers curl around the bag so tight it makes my hand ache and all I can think about is how badly I want to beat the monsters that are making it.
Diana has been getting the word out with the anti-drug program, getting into schools and teaching kids the dangers of this drug. She scheduled a board meeting for this afternoon, prepared to present some new proposals that she hopes will make a difference. At this point, I'm beginning to wonder if anything ever will.
"You shouldn't be here, Princess," I growl low in warning without turning around.
"How did you know I was here?"
Her voice is soft, almost embarrassed at getting caught, but filled with genuine curiosity. "You've been following me for ten blocks now...ever since 12th and Main."
"But how did you know?" she asks again as she comes to a stand beside me.
"I always know, Princess."
She seems to consider this for a long moment as she folds her arms against her chest, staring down at the street below. "I just thought I'd stop by to see if you—"
"I don't need any help," I icily grind out the words that are punctuated with the raw anger still teeming inside of me.
I can feel her looking at me out of the corner of my eye as if trying to asses my mood and deciding whether to risk further conversation with me. "I know you don't," she finally continues, unruffled by my terseness. "I just got back from an earthquake in Chile and wondered if you wanted to get something to eat. I'm starving."
"I don't have time," I curtly respond, finally taking in her appearance at last.
She's completely covered in dirt and dust, her hair windblown and yet she still somehow manages to look alluring. She turns to look at me and it's all I can do not to smirk in amusement. She has dirt streaked all over her face, a cut on her cheekbone and she's standing there smiling at me as if this is the way that she always looks.
"You want to go get something to eat looking like this?" I can't help but ask her as I look her over from head to toe.
"Yeah…why not?" she says with a shrug. "I could really use a cheeseburger and a milkshake."
I shake my head in amazement as I stare at her. "Who exactly won in this battle with the earthquake?"
"I did…of course."
She glances down at the bag in my hand, her expression growing solemn. "You stopped another deal tonight."
It's more of a statement then a question as she takes the bag from my hand, holding it up to study it. "Stopped two teenagers before they could get their hands on it," I inform her.
"And the drug dealer?"
"He'll be able to talk once he wakes up," I reveal with a measure of satisfaction.
She notices the frustration that has seeped into my voice, forcing her to look up at me again. "Well, it's a victory."
Leave it to the princess to see the upside of everything much to my annoyance. "It is not a victory."
"It may be small, but it's still a victory, Batman."
"I stopped this one, but how many more are going down tonight that I didn't stop?" I demand to know as I abruptly snatch the bag out of her hand with a fierce scowl. "How many more are going to die tonight that I can't get to in time?"
"Two teenagers are going home alive tonight because you stopped this," she insists as she takes hold of my hand still gripping the bag of Ash and squeezing it in reassurance. "We will get this off the streets no matter how long it takes us. We won't give up, Batman."
I can't help but stare at her and wonder how she manages to make me feel a little better—especially when I don't want to feel better, when all I want is to brood and wallow in my anger. She's one of the few who is able to bring me back from myself.
"Come on," I tell her with a huff of annoyance, pulling out my grappling gun. "I'll take you to Joe's Diner. He has the best burgers in Gotham and he's open all night. Looking like you do, he may have pity on you and let you have your meal for free."
She slaps my shoulder with the back of her hand, her eyes sparkling with her victory at getting me to eat with her. "I look perfectly fine. Besides, I'm sure you have money or a credit card stashed away in one of those compartments in that belt of yours."
"You have a day job that you get paid for," I remind her. "Don't you have some money in your uniform somewhere?"
She places her hands on her hips as she stares at me with incredulity lighting her face. "Really? And where exactly would I put it?"
I look her over once more, pointedly gazing at her breastplate a moment too long before making my way lower. "How about your…boot?"
"Funny," she replies with a frown.
"Just keep up, Princess, and stay out of sight," I tell her. "I don't want anyone to see you, especially looking like you do. You might scare someone out of their mind."
"You really know how to show a girl a good time, Dark Knight," she says with a roll of her eyes.
"Well, looking like you do, I'm not sure anyone would want to be seen with you," I can't help but tease.
Before Diana can form a response, Oracle's voice fills my ear. "Oracle to Batman."
"What have you got, Oracle?"
"Scarecrow was just spotted entering a research lab at MacCaffrey Industries," she reveals.
"On my way," I tell her before turning my attention to Diana. "Care to see what Scarecrow is up to?"
Her eyes immediately brighten with my offer, her lips quirking with surprised pleasure. "You're actually letting me tag along?"
"Just this once," I sternly clarify. "If Scarecrow is involved in making Ash, then you have the right to be there when I question him. Just promise me that you'll stay in the shadows and don't get involved no matter what happens."
"You know I didn't have a father growing up on Themyscira so I don't know this for certain, but you certainly sound a lot like one," she mutters with unmistakable annoyance.
"Promise me," I repeat, irritation punctuating each word.
"Fine," she snaps with a huff. "I promise…dad."
"Good," I reply with a smirk. "Now, let's go before we lose him. Just try to keep up with me."
Shooting my grappling gun, I can hear her muttering something as my line pulls me away, but the wind whipping past me obscures her words. As soon as I get my hands on Scarecrow, I should make sure she goes straight home. I can't have her hanging out with me on patrol like this. She's far too much of a distraction. Besides that, if anyone spots us together all the time, it could lead to very real trouble.
I can feel her keeping up with me, staying higher in the sky to avoid being seen. There's a small part of me that is actually pleased that she's here with me tonight. It startles me that I would feel that way and intrigues me at the same time. I file these thoughts and feelings away to dwell on later.
I remind myself that this is not going to become a regular occurrence. I'm only allowing her to tag along because it's Scarecrow and there's a good chance that he could be involved in Ash showing up in Gotham. She's put so much work into the program thus far and she deserves to be there when I take its maker down.
With a growl of annoyance, I shove aside thoughts of her to focus on finding Scarecrow. If he truly is the key to all of this, then getting him behind bars again will go a very long way in making a dent in this problem and it might even get Ash off the streets.
The unexpected sound of gunfire below captures my attention and instantly tears my sense of duty in two, but I know that I can't stop. Finding and capturing Scarecrow is too important. I have to know if he's the creator of the drug and, even if he isn't, I need to get him back in Arkham where he belongs.
He's obviously up to no good if he's sneaking around MacCaffrey Industries. There is no telling what he's planning now, but, whatever it is, I know it's not anything good. I just hope that Diana stays out of the way. I can't afford to have her infected by Scarecrow's fear toxin right now.
Since she's always been nothing but truthful, I'm pretty confident she'll keep her word and stay back. What I can't predict is her compassion and sense of justice. If she sees that I'm in trouble, I have a distinct feeling her need to help me will override any promises she made beforehand.
Reaching MacCaffrey Industries, I land in the grass, already pulling out a batarang in preparation for a fight. Diana's landing behind me is barely perceptible, but I know she's there nonetheless. I can always sense it deep inside of me for some reason, even more so than any other person.
"Stay close and don't engage him," I warn her. "He's very dangerous. Just let me handle him."
"You're really beginning to push it, Batman," she hisses.
I smile to myself, knowing I'm only aggravating her even more, but I want to be perfectly clear so when she does interfere tonight, I can remind her of this moment the next time she begs to come along with me on patrol.
I silently move towards the building, assessing the area and trying to figure out what Scarecrow is even doing here in the first place. This particular lab facility specializes in weaponry which makes me anxious about his motives for breaking in here.
Slipping inside, we find three guards lying unconscious on the ground. Diana kneels down to check on them, looking up and silently nodding at me that they are still alive. She gets up to follow me as we make our way farther into the building.
She stays behind me, allowing me to take the lead which I know is more than a little difficult for her. She's a fighter at heart and would rather rush in ready to fight. Something so indirect as an investigation goes against everything she was raised to be, a true warrior at heart who feels this method of crime fighting is time-consuming and senseless. That's why I greatly appreciate her patience now, respecting my rules and knowing that I need to do this my way.
We begin to search the area, coming up empty for nearly twenty minutes, the tension in my body increasing with every step I take. Peering through the window, I spot Crane bent over one of the workstations in one of the research labs, studying something.
I turn and give her a glare, silently warning her to stay put. She levels me with a heated glare of her own, her irritation more than evident as her hands find her hips. I frown at her before turning my attention back to Scarecrow who is still oblivious to our presence.
I silently enter the lab through the open door, slipping through the shadows as I draw closer to him with batarang tightly gripped in my hand. "Crane," I growl, causing him to look up sharply in surprise.
"Batman," he greets me, stepping away from the table. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here. You always were a step behind me."
I take a step closer to him, refusing to allow him to delay his return to Arkham or allow him to distract me. It's a tactic that won't work with me.
"Always the conversationalist," Scarecrow says, scythe gripped tightly in his hand.
I immediately pull back as he lunges at me, only to fly forward in order to plant my fist in his abdomen. He grunts with my blow, twisting to the side to avoid my other fist. His scythe comes swinging down in a flying arc, narrowly missing my head. I turn to slam my elbow into his back, but he drops to the floor to avoid my strike.
He kicks out his leg in an attempt to sweep my legs out from under me, but I leap at the last second. Twisting, I slam my fist into his face, causing him to stumble back. I grab a bola at the same time that he reaches into his pocket, obviously reaching for something.
He pulls his hand free, throwing a gas bomb on the floor at my feet at the same time I hurl a bola at him. I grab my breathing mask as fear toxin instantly fills the air, a thick white cloud obscuring him from my sight. I race towards the spot Scarecrow had just been only to find him gone.
"Batman!" Diana yells.
I immediately feel panic race through my veins with the sound of her voice. "Diana, get out of here!" I order her.
The sound of Scarecrow's psychotic laughter fills my ears followed by Diana's yell of rage that abruptly turns into a scream of pure terror. "Diana!" I yell again as I search the smoke filled room for her, my hand going to my commlink. "Robin! I need back up at MacCaffrey Industries now!"
"Already on my way," Robin responds.
"No!" Scarecrow furiously shouts. "Let go of me!"
"No!" Diana screams in utter anguish.
I run towards the sound of their voices, desperate to get to her in time before the fear toxin has taken its full effect on her, but I know I'm already too late. "Diana! Where are you?"
I race through the cloud of gas to where the sound of fighting is coming from. I find Scarecrow ensnared in Diana's lasso, her fist connecting with his jaw and knocking him out before she slides down the wall to the ground. I'm more than stunned as well as relieved that she'd had the presence of mind to capture him before the fear toxin fully took over her mind.
I rush to her side to find thin trails of blood running down her left arm, four needle stab marks in her shoulder. Two of Scarecrow's injectors had broken off with his attack, large needles still imbedded deep in her skin. I immediately pull them out and throw them aside, intent on getting her out of here.
Her eyes are wide with horror, nearly catatonic with the fear already pumping through her system. "Diana," I call to her, hoping to keep her from succumbing to the horrors I know await her.
"No, I can't…lose him," she whimpers, sounding so terrified. "Please…don't leave me."
"Diana, it's me," I gently tell her as I crouch down in front of her. "I'm here to help you."
Her eyes are filled with such emotion, her face streaked with tears. Her bottom lip quivers as she opens her mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. The sight of her like this threatens to break my heart, her anguish palpable.
"Please…don't die," she whimpers, locked in a nightmare created by her worst fear.
"Who, Princess?" I ask, confused. "Who is dying?"
"Batman…" she whispers, her words coming in breathless gasps of panic.
"I'm right here, Diana," I try to reassure her, taking her hands in mine to prove it to her. "I'm fine. I'm not going to die."
Her fear stuns me, my mind spinning with disbelief. Why is my safety her greatest fear? It makes absolutely no sense to me. I know that we've grown closer as friends over the last few months and especially since she moved into the manor with me, but I had no idea that she worried so much about my safety.
"Diana, I'm right here and I'm fine," I try again. "I need to get you out of here and away from this toxin."
I quickly cuff Scarecrow and retrieve her lasso before picking her up in my arms. Tears still roll down her cheeks as she clings to me, her head buried in the crook of my neck. It's beyond unnerving to see her like this when she's typically so in control, beating our foes with such skill and strength.
"Scarecrow's in there," I tell Robin as he approaches.
"The police are on their way," Robin tells me as he pulls out his breathing mask, his worried expression shifting to Diana in my arms. "Is she all right?"
"She will be," I reassure him, tightening my hold on her. "I've got to get her out of here now."
"No…no," she whimpers, her hand moving to grip the front of my uniform.
"I'm not going to leave you, Princess," I promise her. "I'm going to help you, but I need to get you out of here first."
Her breath is ragged, her panic escalating. I instinctively hold her even closer to me, feeling the familiar, overwhelming need to protect her no matter what. I look up at Robin who is staring at us, an indescribable look on his face.
"Have Scarecrow taken directly to Arkham," I tell him. "I'll come by later to question him."
"I'll take care of him," Robin reassures me, the sound of the police coming down the hall telling me it's time to leave.
"I'll see you back in the cave."
Turning, I quickly carry Diana away in the opposite direction, keeping a firm hold on her. Seeing her like this makes me more than a little anxious to see the Diana I've come to care about again, the woman who is so full of life and strength.
Fear of my own is clawing at my insides as I exit through a back door. Getting her outside into the fresh night air, I signal for the Batmobile to come to me before reaching into my utility belt to get the antidote to the fear toxin. Pulling it out, I release my hold on her to find her trembling uncontrollably, tears still spilling down her cheeks as she struggles to pull herself together.
"Batman," she whispers. "Sorry…so sorry."
"Shhh," I gently shush her, my throat constricting painfully. "There's nothing to forgive. You were only trying to help me."
I kneel in the grass with her in my arms, her whispered pleas for me filling the night air and mingling with my reassurances. I yank the top off the antidote with my teeth before plunging the needle into her arm. She goes limp in my arms and I can't help but feel guilty for putting her in this situation in the first place.
She's the most powerful woman in the world, one who possesses enough strength to stop Superman in his tracks, but even she can be taken down sometimes. I should've prepared her before bringing her with me to go up against Scarecrow. If I had, she might not have gotten infected by Scarecrow's toxin.
"I'm sorry, Princess," I softly murmur into her hair.
I cradle her in my arms and hold her against me. I glance down at her angelic face as I brush some raven strands from her face, my breath hitching with how achingly beautiful she truly is. I instinctively lean forward, my eyes falling closed as I lightly press my lips against her forehead.
Her words spoken tonight in the midst of her terror still rings in my ears and continually rolls through my mind like a tidal wave repeatedly rising and crashing on the shore. I'm confused by it all, unsure about these feelings that she awakens inside of me, things that I'm not sure I want to feel or deal with.
But I can't deny them any longer, can't ignore the fact that they do exist.
These feelings have been steadily building for months now, but I've refused to acknowledge they were even there. Just the thought that she might actually care for me in return makes my head spin with incredulity and my pulse race with a thrilling sense of elation.
I hear the roar of the Batmobile's engine as I stare into her face still streaked with tears. I gently erase their tracks with the tips of my fingers as my mind takes me places that I know I shouldn't go. I'd always felt an attraction to her, found her to be utterly breathtaking, but I'd never allowed myself to consider letting it go beyond that…until now.
PRESENT DAY
Gotham; October 4th, 23:32 EST
Sirens blare loudly in the background as I finish handcuffing the perp lying face down on the ground, my knee digging into his back and causing him to cry out in pain as he struggles against my hold on him. Finally releasing him, I roughly yank him up by the back of his jacket before shoving him up against a light pole.
Securing him to the pole, I quickly fire my grappling gun, casting a fleeting glance at the woman he'd attempted to rape before escaping to the rooftop of a nearby building just as the GCPD arrives on the scene. I watch for a moment as they talk to the victim before I further disappear into the night.
"Batman to Robin."
"Yah, Bats," Robin responds within seconds.
"Anything to report?" I ask as I quickly make my way to my intended destination.
"Nothing," Robin replies. "He's still working in his office."
"Keep an eye on him and let me know if Trask moves," I instruct him.
"Do you really think he might be part of what happened to Diana?"
"I'm not ruling anything out yet. Batman out."
I try not to dwell on the decision that I've made to have Tim keep watch on Trask for me instead of patrolling Gotham. I hate the fact that we can't be there for my city, but Diana is my first priority right now. Gotham will have to wait until I can get her back.
Landing on the rooftop of Wayne Enterprises, I stop long enough for him to catch up to me. He's been following me for the last several blocks. I don't have time to deal with him, but I know I'm going to have to. "How long are you planning on following me?" I demand to know without turning around.
"You can't keep ignoring my calls forever," he tells me.
"I don't have time for this," I bite out, the anger and panic of the last forty-eight hours beginning to take its toll on me. "You're keeping me from finding her."
"I'm here to help…if you'll let me," Nightwing firmly states, folding his arms stubbornly against his chest as he comes to stand next to me, looking out over the city that he once helped me guard.
"I don't need any help," I snap. "It's my responsibility to find her…not yours."
"That's why I'm here," he persistently presses on despite my palpable obstinacy.
"Go home, Nightwing," I order him more sternly than is necessary, but I don't have time for this interruption and neither does Diana.
"I'm here to cover patrol so you can find her without worrying about Gotham," he reveals, finally turning to fully face me.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and I can feel my resolve beginning to crack ever so slightly. My shoulders slump slightly with exhaustion as I turn to face him. "You have Blüdhaven to worry about. You don't have time for this."
"Blüdhaven will be there when I return in a few hours," he reassures me. "Right now, I need to be here with you."
I don't know what to say as I stare at him for a long moment. Our relationship has been tenuous at best over the years, a constant work in progress as each of us try to search blindly for a balance in our relationship. "You don't have to do that," I softly rasp, afraid to test my voice any further at this point.
"I know I don't, but I want to," Dick tells me. "I know how much Diana and Gotham both mean to you. I'll take care of Gotham. You just worry about finding Diana right now."
I lower my head as I swallow hard, the emotions that have been storming inside of me for two days threatening to breach the damn that I've built. "I will," I murmur, not knowing what else I can possibly say. It feels as if a small measure of the weight that has been threatening to drag me to the ground has suddenly been lifted.
"Just find her before it's too late," he tells me. "She's the best thing that has ever happened to you."
It stuns me that he already has noticed this about her and me, but I know he's right. I just can't bring myself to acknowledge that he's right at this moment. "I have a lead I'm following up on now. Robin is doing surveillance on a suspect. I've instructed him to begin patrol as soon as Trask has gone home."
"I'll get to work doing rounds then," Nightwing decides, his arms falling to his sides. He tentatively raises his hand as if trying to decide if he should and then finally reaches out to touch my shoulder. "You'll find her. She's strong. She doesn't know how to go down without a fight."
"I know," I whisper, nodding my head. "I'll check in with you once I'm done with my investigation tonight."
I turn to shoot my grapple, casting a quick glance back over my shoulder. He's watching me, a young man standing now where a boy had once stood. I can't bring myself to tell him how proud I truly am of the man that he has become or how sorry I am that I wasn't a better father to him. All of that will have to wait for another time, another place. Right now, I have a princess to find.
"Thank you for coming," I ultimately tell him. "It means a lot."
The stunned expression on his face momentarily turns sentimental as I allow myself to be carried away, not waiting around for a response. We've never been good at discussing our emotions, but I somehow know that tonight has been a step in the right direction for the first time since I've known Dick.
I shove aside my thoughts about Dick and all the foolish mistakes that I had made with him, forcing myself to focus on Samantha Simons.
I work my way through Gotham, preferring to fly rather than drive right now. I need the adrenaline rush of soaring through the sky, the fresh night air, and the familiar sounds of my city to remind that I'm alive despite how dead I feel on the inside.
The ache that has settled in my chest since the night Diana was taken has only managed to grow deeper like a painful cavity that will never heal, keeping me from being able to draw a real breath until she's found. Sometimes I wonder if my world will ever be right again if I can't find her.
It's been two days and yet it feels like an eternity since I'd last seen her face or heard her voice, basked in her dazzling smile or lost myself in her blue eyes. I miss her heady scent that makes my heart hammer or how just being near her makes my insides all twisted. I long for the sound of her laughter and the way she rolls her eyes at me when I tease her.
She knows all of me and yet she seems to care about me too, giving me hope that we could truly have a future together, but I have to find her first if I want that life with her.
I finally arrive at Samantha's apartment building, knowing that the police have already collected all of their evidence, but I can find clues that they miss. A fresh set of eyes could break this whole case wide open and lead me to Diana.
I bitterly curse to myself with the thought of calling this a case. I had never dreamed that Diana would become a case that I would have to investigate in order to save her life. Besides that, she means far more to me than just a case. While I take each case personally, this one by far surpasses them all, none of them more personal to me than this one.
I carefully work the window to her apartment open before slipping inside to the darkness that awaits me. I close the window behind me, drowning out the sound of traffic below. I immediately get to work searching through her things and praying that something in here will lead me to whoever has taken Diana.
Her apartment is sparsely decorated, but what she does have is very neatly arranged. A couple of picture frames rest on an end table by her couch. They're pictures of her with her late mother, but there is nothing of her father, which is a very telling fact in itself.
She had more than likely been devastated to find out what her father had been actually involved in. She probably didn't want any reminders of him in her apartment. Now, I just have to figure out why she was trying to find information about the Irish Mafia.
She seemed like a smart girl, but something inside of her drove her to pursue the Irish Mafia which was a foolish mistake and, if they are the ones responsible for what's happened, a deadly one. I hope to find justice for her in all of this as well.
Coming to stand before a bookcase in her bedroom, I begin to look over each book. A number of them are from the college courses that she took, others are crime novels along with a couple of her yearbooks from high school.
While everything in her apartment is neat and orderly, the books on her bookshelf are in disarray, telling me the GCPD has already rummaged through them looking for clues. Spotting a book that doesn't appear to belong with all the others. I pick it up to find it's a book of poems.
Opening it, I find an inscription to Samantha from her grandmother. The book is well-worn and many of its pages have been dog-eared. It's evident they both shared a love for poetry. Laying the book down on its spine on a nearby desk, I allow it to fall open, revealing to me her most read poem.
Scanning over the words, I find it's a poem about finding true love, the kind that consumes your soul and lasts for an eternity. The crushing feeling in my chest intensifies, reminding me of the love that I feel for Diana. I know in that moment that these feelings that I have for her will forever be a part of me no matter what happens, something so bone-deep it can never be broken.
I clench my jaw in an effort to keep the emotions rising in my throat at bay, closing the book and picking it up only to have something slip free from its hidden spot in the dust jacket. Kneeling down, I pick up a small piece of paper, turning it over to find a picture of Samantha with a man a couple of years younger than her.
I can instantly tell by the facial bone structure and nose that I am staring at Ryan Selnar, her half-brother. I can't make out any details in the picture that could tell me where it was taken, but it must have been recent. The date and time stamp in the corner reveals it was taken just two weeks ago.
I slip the picture into my utility belt for safekeeping before turning to her desk to look through the draws. Finding nothing of importance, I glance down at her notebook, reading through her notes on taking down corrupt corporate businesses. I begin to flip through the textbook left open on her desk, finding a slip of scrap paper stuck between a couple of pages.
It has ten numbers on it that look like a phone number, but could be anything. I decide I need to go back and review the GCPD files again on Samantha as well as her phone records to find out what exactly this number means and if it could lead me to Diana.