CHAPTER ELEVEN

"FAMILY"

The Bat Plane soared across the night sky as it made its way to Bludhaven. It passed over the bridge that crossed the river that connected both cities and its urban city landscape. GPS was tracking their position and had determined their flight path, by way of now Jason's panic signal from his phone. It had been the first time Jason had ever used it, so if he activated it, there was definitely trouble. They needed to get to The Awakening Nightclub fast!

Tim had used all his tricks to hack into servers to get what he needed to make a startling truth about the nightclub that he hadn't been able to acquire before and that was the nightclub was one big fraud. And it was financed by a man named Jack Filou, a supposed French business man had Tim determined was très faux, as the French would say. Very fake. Nothing rang true about this person and Tim wagered it was a front for the Joker himself. But it was yet to be determined if Paul Hudson, Dick's long-time friend, was in league and compliance with the criminal mastermind?

Tim also learned the club's finances were in the gutter and the numbers posted online were altered to show positivity. In truth, the nightclub was so much in the red it should've closed a long ago. Again, did Paul Hudson know? Or had Joker fed him false numbers in being the assistant to his silent partner who was a fake?

Red Robin was seated in the passengers seat of the Bat Plane, his laptop resting on his knees, as Batman piloted. Damian (Robin) was in a rear seat. Suddenly Damian leaned in, his face between them, and said, "So, you really think Grayson's friend didn't know about this whole scheme? I don't buy it. I think Grayson's friend is a dirty cop, the same Grayson tried to weed out when he joined the Bludhaven PD before my time. Grayson obviously missed one."

"We can't make that determination yet," Tim said, typing on his laptop.

Tim then sighed after a batch of new financial information scrolled across his screen. They were possible bank fraud and money laundering red flags. Only an expert would've been able to find this, he knew. The actions had been well hidden by someone who knew what they were doing, an expert in schemes of this type. Who? Tim didn't know yet. But every online hacker had a style, and they fell into a certain category, like bomb-makers. Online hackers use "algorithmic-markers" and "pseudocode" to formulate their work. Whoever was behind this scheme was good.

"Maybe Dick or Jason can shed more light on things when we get there?" Tim said. "Judging from the information I've just recently gathered, Joker has been in this particular scheme for as long as the club has been opened, which doesn't look good for Paul Hudson."

"Less tech, more intuition, Drake," Damian said. "You just repeated what I said. Paul Hudson is dirty!"

Tim refused to get into a tête-à-tête with Damian at the moment. Instead he pinged Dick and Jason's phone for the umpteenth time to verify their location. They hadn't changed, both phones were in The Awakening nightclub.

Just then, Dick called Tim's computer—or the program the laptop was running connected to the phone network. An old rotatory phone icon appeared; Tim's idea. Either Dick was about to call him or he was looking at his phone when Tim pinged his phone in real-time. He answered it with a button on his laptop, putting it on speakerphone. Immediately, he had to turn down the volume because of the loud ambient music in the background.

"Hey Timmy," Dick said loudly. "You just pinged my phone?"

"Yeah…" Tim began.

"You okay, Grayson?" Damian finished.

"Sure, never better. This is a sweet club. Paul has a goldmine here! Come and join me!"

"You're there to work for your friend, Dick, or have you forgotten?" Batman said coarsely.

"Not anymore, I'm having too much fun! Woo hoooooooooo! Let's shake it, like it's nineteen-ninety-nine!"

Tim lowered the sound, turned to Batman. "Okay, need it be said that something is serious wrong here?" He groaned under his breath. "This is definitely not like the Dick we all know. Knowing Joker, he's probably released some of his special gas into the club to make everyone party. With everyone distracted, he's probably robbing them blind."

"Joker gas doesn't work that way," Damian retorted. "It either makes you hysterically laugh your head off until you fall unconscious and/or it kills you as you laugh yourself to death."

They all agreed that was a possibility.

"I can attest to that," Batman said. "Neither one of you have ever experienced the effects of Joker gas, have you?" He turned and looked at them both in turn, and both shook their heads. He continued to pilot. "So, you have no idea what it can do to you. Ask Dick sometime, he can tell you stories. The effects are unpleasant, you're laughing, but nothing is funny. Your body hurts, and the result is similar to a heart-attack—you're smiling in the end. But that's from a large dose. With smaller doses, you find yourself completely incapacitated with laughter."

Both boys seemed silent with shock.

"What kind of a freak invents something like that?" Damian remarked. "Strike that, the freak we're after now."

Tim got back to the phone call, he turned up the volume slightly. "Dick, what's your current status? Dick?" But he didn't answer, and the cell phone sounded like it had been left somewhere unattended. "We need to get the club fast!"

"That's the understatement of the year, Drake," Damian replied, then snorted frustration.

All of a sudden, another old rotatory phone icon flashed on Tim's laptop. Tim placed Dick's call on hold, as if he needed to—if Dick had indeed abandoned his phone somewhere to party without a care; how irresponsible of him—and answered the other call. It was Jason. "Jason—Red Robin here. Are you okay? Please confirm your location?"

"Hello kiddies!" came Joker's voice. "I'm sorry, but dear ol' Jason Todd can't come to the phone right now. He's a little distracted" —sounds of screams could be heard on the other end of the line— "He had a nice nap, but now he's up and reviving to go. I'm really shocked he has so much energy and if you can see him, so is he…" Joker laughed, as Jason screamed—the sounds of zapping could be heard in the background. Joker had obviously placed Jason's phone closer to whatever was happening for them to hear. ("C'mon puddin' — dance for me!" Harley's voice was then heard, and something like the sound of electricity was heard, and more zapping.) "It's quite a shocking show here," Joker continued—more screaming— "and I'm afraid Jason'll won't be calling you back anytime soon. Please leave a brief message, because I doubt he'd be about to listen to anything at length once he's more crisp than Sunday's fried chicken." There was the sound of more electric zapping, and more screaming. "Beeeeeeeeeeep!" He call ended.

Batman increased speed.

"Todd and I have had our differences, but I don't want to see him dead…" Jason had died and then returned before Damian had joined the Bat Family, but he knew Jason's history, "…again!" He asked Tim to play back the sound of the zapper. "That sounds like he's being electrocuted with…No, not even Grayson would be that irresponsible to allow his weapons to fall into the hand of the Joker, but, in his current state, anything is possible—maybe, a cattle prod? That would be Joker's modus-operandi. Anything to inflict maximum damage. And he hates Jason, so much!"

"The feeling's mutual," Batman added.

Tim returned to Dick's call, and Dick was actually on the line now to receive him. Tim asked why he left his phone. Dick said he hadn't, but it had been accidentally turned it down—they could hear him, but he couldn't hear them. A wrong movement of his hand. Tim then told Dick what had just occurred and the phone call with Joker. "Dick, you need to go find Jason. He's in trouble!" Tim pleaded.

"Go find him yourself, I'm having fun here!"

"Dick! This is Bruce! I'm giving you an order! Go find Jason now!"

Dick sputtered. "Piss off, Bruce! You're always ordering me around! No wonder I left you—and it wasn't just because you almost killed that guy! You're just as bad as some of the psychopaths we hunt!" Bruce gritted his teeth; was about to say something—both boys looked at each other shocked—but then the call ended abruptly. Dick had ended it.

Bruce slammed a fist on the plane console. "That son-of-a-bitch!" Batman cursed. "He still won't forgive me for that!"

Damian seemed to slink back into his chair and Tim returned to his computer, avoiding eyes with Batman. They both knew Bruce and Dick's history and why Dick left Bruce. It was a difference of opinion between them, and when Dick had pointed out that Bruce was starting to become the very thing he hated, Bruce hit Dick, ending their long-standing partnership.

"Don't take it to heart, Batman," Tim said cautiously. "I suspect its Joker's new gas. It acts much like alcohol on the system, loosening morals and inhabitation." Then he gulped when he saw Batman was still angry and shut-up.

Damian then chimed in, slammed a fist into a hand, as if to give himself courage. "Damn it all! This is not like Grayson at all. Father made a mistake, will all do. But like each and every one of us, we have learned from them."

Batman sighed. "Damian, Dick is right. That is one mistake I will never let down. When Dick's parents died, I fostered him and he became my ward. I thought because I was partially to blame for his parents' deaths, it was my responsibility to raise him responsibility. But I admit that I failed. Our partnership was based on trust and reliability, Batman and Robin were a team, but in retrospect, at the time of our falling out, I was undergoing a lot of stress. Was the job becoming too much for me? I don't remember. But Dick was right. If I had killed that thug way back when, I would've become the very think I despise, and the very thing that murdered my parents.

"When things repeated themselves with Jason, and his parents were killed by Harvey Two-Face, I thought I could make amends, start over. But I only made the same mistakes and it got Jason killed. That is my cross to bare, no one else is to blame. In a way, I was the one who murdered both Jason and Dick's parents with my arrogant vigilantism. And I had pushed the Joker too far, and Jason became the target of his frustration. Jason suffered because of me. And I swore I would never let it happen again, that I would never allow myself to partner with anyone else. It's hard to even admit this, but I've loved Jason more like a son than I ever did Dick. But I think he knew that."

Damian padded Batman on the shoulder. "Similarities do bring people closer, father. But just think of it this way, look at all the lives you've saved because you've stayed true to your cause? Drake and myself, we live because of you. I am a by-product of your strong lineage, and Drake, he's a by-product of yet you caring enough to once again save one more life from a life of suffering and harm—namely his father, who used to beat him on a daily bases. Together, we make a formidable team who fight the forces of evil and protect those who cannot. We are the Bat Family."

"And that we can both agree on," Tim said with a smile.

Batman said nothing for the moment. He paused as he piloted the Bat Plane and gazed out into the clear night sky through the glass canopy. The stars and moon cascaded an unexplained beauty that engulfed him his core like two very dissimilar things complimenting one another like a cohesive outstanding pair. Much like him and his family.

When it all began, he was one kid against the world. Now that he was the adult, he was no longer alone in his plight, and he had people to protect and those same people protected him with the same resolve.

Embattled as he had been throughout the years, he had never forgot who and what he was needed to protect. And despite their differences in opinions, Dick would always be his "first born son". He hoped like a father to his son, the teachings he installed in Dick to guild him into adulthood, at the very least had been mildly successful. If the true testament for a son was to surpass his father, then for Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, and even Damian, he was, at the very least, a father they could rely on, to protect them when they needed him the most, and vice versa. He wasn't always the perfect father-figure. But no man is.

He took his hand off the yoke and patted Damian's shoulder. "Thanks, son. Thanks, Tim. That means a lot. I may not say it much, but I'm proud of every last one of you." He then returned to piloting, putting both hands on the yoke. "ETA, two minutes," he then said. "Let's go save our family!"

To Be Continued…