Title: Now And Then: XII
Author: DC Luder
Rating: T for mild language, adult situations and violence.
Summary: And they all fall down…
Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.
Author's Note: Finally, after the first POV in this chapter, we will be moving passed the dreadful Friday night - Saturday late afternoon timeline that's been playing out over the last two chapters.
A/N 2: Little nod to some smoking hot Bale-Bat interrogation in Tim's POV! And it's a thirty-six page chapter… my bad.
^V^
I spent the entire afternoon at the hospital with Barbara, Jim, Maureen and the surprisingly cheerful Sarah. As I planned to head out, I considered dropping by the Townhouse to relieve Cass of Ethan sitting duty before heading to the office to give Will his over due French Dip. Babs was quick to point out that calling my order in ahead made no guarantee that the sandwiches would be done when I arrived. Making Ethan wait in my arms for my name to be called out at the pick up counter had sounded anything but appealing.
Babs then suggested, "Leave me the car, take a cab… I'll get Ethan from Tim's and meet you back home."
"Sounds like a plan," I nodded.
"Especially if you bring me something home for dinner," she added with a tired smile.
A miracle in itself, my order was ready and waiting as I stepped into the busy restaurant. Shortly after starting up DJG Security, the Blue Grill had been one of our primary sources of last minute lunches and over-time dinner destinations. For years, every Friday Jim had convinced us to head over for a staff lunch, even when it had just been the two of us. He had once said it was a way to wrap-up for the week but I knew he had just wanted to go there for the Friday sandwich, the Double Decker Reuben.
Since we had lost Jim, we still honored the Friday lunch as often as we could and I found myself ordering a Reuben each time.
After running the bill on the company's American Express card, I dropped a five into the tip jar on the carry-out counter and grabbed the white paper bags, my mouth salivating at the warm, meaty aromas within. Having spent the last few weeks in a nonstop hell, I had been neglecting my usual diet.
Or as Barbara had dubbed it, eating everything in sight.
I jogged across the street, earning an angry cry from a blond woman driving a florist truck seeing how I hadn't taken the time to use the crosswalk. Offering an apologetic wave, I slowed my pace entering the ground floor lobby through a revolving door. Given that many were leaving the office building for the day, I managed to snag an empty elevator car going up. After pressing the button for our suite, I leaned my back against the elevator and let out a heavy sigh.
Just as I was convincing myself not to reach into the bag to steal a steak fry, I found my gaze shifting to the advertisement poster on the left hand side of the car. They changed them every month, usually marketing businesses that resided in the building. It was nearly fifteen-hundred dollars a month to advertise and given the fact that our work spoke for itself, we had never indulged.
The orthodontist clinic on the floor below us had spent the money willingly, their sign showing of a pair of smiling young twenty-somethings with perfect, glossy white teeth. That was before someone had seen to drawing in gaps and a missing front tooth with a black marker.
Looking to the right, I spotted a psycho-therapist's poster for recognizing signs of depression, featuring a middle aged woman looking tired, alone and lost. In the same marker, someone had drawn over her somber lips, replacing it with a big toothy grin.
I dropped the white bags on the floor at the sight of the handwritten graffiti below the woman's chin, in far too familiar script: Let's turn that frown upside down!!!!!
My blood running cold, I reached out and touched the exclamation marks, my finger coming back with black lines and dots.
Fresh ink.
Grabbing my cell phone, I dialed Will's office, putting the phone between my ear and shoulder as I retrieved a small electronic device many mistook for a Blackberry. Instead, it was a mobile device linking me to the police dispatch, Oracom network, the crays in the Cave in addition to the security systems of the Clocktower and the office. Biometrically activated, it was an easy way for Dick Grayson to be Nightwing without the tights.
As the phone rang deafeningly in my ear, I accessed the suite's security system in order to activate a shut-down. In the event that the Joker had yet to enter, he would be prevented from doing so as the main doors bolted shut, in addition to the external windows and the emergency exit leading to the stairwell.
The large windows offering those in the hall to look into our luxurious reception area were actually bulletproof glass. Different from the standard variety, Wayne Tech had worked on it for the military a few years back, integrating aluminum oxynitride as a strike plate layer. It was capable of easily withstanding .50 caliber, armor piercing rounds.
Bruce had once estimated that a square foot would cost somewhere in the four-digits.
He had given us six panes to help make our office stand out amongst the run of the mill wooden panels and wall paper that were found on each floor's elevator lobby.
That was if the Joker hadn't made it inside…
The phone clicked on the other end and I shouted, "Will, I've already called the police, the Joker is in the building!!" When I heard nothing but quiet breaths, I continued, "Will?! Will?!"
My guts churned at the sound of a giggling voice on the other end, "I'm afraid he can't come to phone right now…"
"Joker!" I roared, counting the seconds remaining before the elevator opened to our floor, "If you've---."
Click.
The second the chime sounded and the gilded doors began to separate, I barged through, slamming my left shoulder in the process. Approaching the front double doors, I deactivated the locks in order to quickly pass through and lock them once more. The reception area was just as I had left it earlier that day, the furniture untouched, carpet spotless and even the magazines on the coffee table undisturbed.
A soft moan drew my eyes to the office doors, each of which were closed save for Will's.
Calling out his name, I raced over while keeping an eye out for any sign of evil clownhood. Will had changed into casual dress, no doubt preparing to take on another late night. Crimson covered his abdomen and had soaked into the carpet around him. As I knelt, I took his pulse with one hand while calling an ambulance with the other.
When I was asked who was injured and how by the dispatcher, I heard the alarm chime from my mobile computer in my pants pocket. Telling the operator that I had a forty-two year old male with a gunshot wound to the abdomen, I retrieved the device to see the screen reporting the rear entrance had been opened. Not a second later, overhead alarms sounded, which would shortly trigger the building wide fire alarm system encouraging everyone to exit the building to safety.
I had expected the stairwell sensor to trip a moment later as the Joker made his getaway but it hadn't.
With Will's skin cold and clammy and eyes fluttering, leaving him would have been a death sentence.
Staying with him would give the Joker ample time to sneak up behind me…
"Will, the medics are on they way… I need to see if he's still here…" I spoke softly, dropping the phone on the ground as the dispatcher called out for a response. Will's head lulled slightly but I wanted him more conscious before I left his side. Knowing the one true way to rouse him was the least polite, I apologized before smacking the front of his jeans.
His eyes snapped open as he reached up and punched me in the jaw, growling something incoherently, showing there was still plenty of fight in him.
"Will, the medics are---."
He groaned, "I heard you…"
"I'll be right back… Try not to bleed anymore on the carpet… the cleaning bill is coming out of your paycheck."
"Jackass," he smirked weakly before coughing wetly. I helped him turn his head, watching as he expelled dark blood. Not wanting him to choke while I was gone, I quickly pulled him up to sit against the back of an armchair. When I turned to leave, he grabbed my upper arm with a strength that surprised me, "Wait… top drawer…"
His Sig Sauer.
"Will, no, I'm going to lock you in, you'll be---."
He shook his head, "No… Can't answer the door… again…"
Reluctantly, I obliged him, handing it to him with the apology, "You can have this… as long as you know I was joking about the carpet bill."
"Sure you were…" he smirked weakly before fighting another bout of coughs.
I made the quick dash to my office in order to retrieve a few items that I hoped would be completely unnecessary. A bolo, gas pellets, eight batarangs and lastly a bullet proof vest. Since the Joker had attacked Jim and Maureen, I had carried one with me every where I didn't wear Kevlar tights.
Armed and somewhat ready, I quickly searched the offices, meeting room, lounge and bathrooms. Holding my breath, I slammed open the emergency exit, expecting the worst but finding nothing. Making my way back to Will, I was trying to convince myself that maybe the Joker had skipped his way down the stairs or had ridden down on the railings.
I stopped to see Jim's old office door open halfway.
After I had firmly closed it.
Stepping closer, I pressed my ear next to the door, listening to a soft voice mumble from within. I set up three batarangs in each hand, ready to barge in and end our four month battle with the Joker once and for all. After taking a deep breath, I listened as he giggled, "Jim Gordon's office, I'm afraid he's in a meeting now, can I take a message? Oh no, he's… all the way across town, I doubt he'll be back to the office this evening. Or ever."
I threw the batarangs in my left hand before opening the door the rest of the way, each embedding into the high back of the leather desk chair as it faced towards the windows. A playful shriek sounded just after I threw the remaining three, two of which had found their way into a sinewy bicep. The third anchored into a bony hand, forcing him to drop the phone as he dove for cover, knocking over most of the neglected items on the desk.
"This ends now!" I cried as I slammed the door behind me. Readying the bolo in my right hand, I took cover on the far side of the empty book case that had once held photographs of Barbara and myself, not to mention a number of other framed memories of James W. Gordon.
From the other side of the desk, a gloved hand rose, lifting a pencil with a tissue on the end of it, along with nervous giggles.
As with any monster, close quarters made matters all the more dangerous. Given that I had no idea how many bullets he had on him, not to mention what other weaponry hidden up his sleeves, I chose to smoke him out with a few of the gas pellets. After years of exposure, I had grown immune to their effects, namely the coughing, sneezing and vomiting.
A nice little mixture of bodily malfunctions for the criminal community courtesy of what I imagined to be Bruce's sick sense of humor.
Quickly, the light gas began fuming on the far side of the office, I heard the Joker's exaggerated coughs and pleas for mercy. Given that it was meant to disarm rather than conceal, the gas merely made the room hazy. Then again, that could have just been the fury that was coursing my blood. His hand disappeared behind the desk and I continued to listen as he sneezed repeatedly.
I should have waited longer.
With images of Barbara, Jason, Helena, Jim, Mo and baby Sarah flashing in my mind, I set up the last two batarangs in my left hand, ready to embed them anywhere in his body that would bleed the most.
Four shots fired aimlessly and I was able to dodge them in midair without effort. Landing on top of him, I heard him groan, "Damnit, Harley, you said I had six bullets left…"
I should have tied him up first.
Dropping the bolos, I slammed the batarangs into his uninjured arm, each finding nerves in his forearm that caused his gun hand to twitch and lose its grip. To pin him down, I knelt on his upper arms while bringing my weight straight down on his torso. Without hesitation, I found myself burying my fists in his face, hitting as fast and as hard as I could, alternating hands and ignoring the pain singing up my forearm.
Despite his lips splitting and nose breaking, he kept grinning up at me.
I should have…
"W-w-wait…" he stammered, "Six minus one minus four…"
BLAM.
I had a fraction of a second to shift out of the path of the bullet but with the gun being less than a two feet away, it hadn't been early enough. Given that I had been wearing the vest he had to aim either high or low, thankfully he chose to aim high. I spun around and off of him as the bullet hit me just below the collar bone and soared out my back.
Even though I had recovered quickly, he had already jumped to his feet, hitting me square in the temple with the butt of the gun.
Mind reeling, I fell to the ground and watched helplessly as he leaned over me, shaking his head slowly as he tsked.
The last thing I heard was, "You should say 'God bless you' when someone sneezes…"
^V^
As cold, April rain fell from the sky, I stood beneath the canvass covered archway leading into Wayne Tower. With an awkward smile on my face, I watched on as a pair of young doormen unloaded suitcases from the town car, all under Alfred's discreet orchestration. The head of reception watched on as well, getting an earful in the process.
"And you know what else?"
"What, Mr. Wayne?"
"My point -hih- exactly. When we got married… she didn't even change her name… And, you know, I know it shouldn't mean anything but -hih- it does… it means a lot… And they call it Wayne Manor for a reason."
"I'm sure they do, sir," he replied, doing his best to keep his eyes on his men working.
I set a hand on the man's shoulder, leaning into his personal space to be sure he understood the dire and drunken mess that was Bruce Wayne, "Sorry, I forgot your name?"
"Barry, sir."
"Call me Bruce, Barry… Barry?"
"Yes… Bruce?" His eyes found mine before looking to my splinted right hand.
I chuckled, "Punched the damn wall when she kicked me out… Guess I'm not playing golf next weekend…" I hiccupped before asking him, "You married, Barry?"
"Divorced. Twice."
He couldn't have been older than Dick. "Mutual?"
After a curt nod, Barry sighed, his façade cracking, "First one was. Married too young… Second one was a nightmare."
"I don't think I could survive one, let alone two…" I shook my head in wonderment.
"Ahem."
We both looked to see Alfred standing before us, none too impressed with my current state. Even though he was a master of the stage, Alfred had no need to utilize his acting skills as his disapproval was very real. After reconciling with my son and wife, I had asked him to pack a few weeks worth of clothing for my faux relocation to the city while I packed a few items form the Cave. Upon further describing my plans, he had been quick to voice his own thoughts on the matter.
Namely how I should be focusing my efforts on searching rather than luring.
Before leaving the Manor a little before eight, I had spoken with Selina and the kids in the master bedroom. I had waited, under Selina's orders, to ask Mattie to join the family meeting until after Terry had been able to find an appropriate hiding spot. Although a father of a teenaged girl, unfortunately the fact that her first boyfriend had snuck into the house was the least of my worries.
I had intended to briefly discuss what had happened to Jim and Maureen and that everyone was going to have to stay home for the duration of the time off from school. As Mattie began protesting about all of the gymnastic practices and riding lessons she had already missed, Nathan had started complaining about how he wanted to play baseball with Dick at Hudson University.
Upon silencing them and reminding them the house arrest was to protect them, Nathan had sighed before looking up to me, "Well, okay… as long as I can hang out in the Cave."
I had yet to inform my wife and daughter that I had told my youngest son the truth.
Selina had been shocked but understanding.
Mattie on the other hand…
After battling morning commuters, we had made it to Midtown just as my watch read eight-ten. Before Alfred had pulled into the drop-off area in front of the building, I had thrown back a shot of one-hundred proof rum before spilling an additional shot on the front of my shirt and wool coat.
I hadn't been the fop in nearly two decades.
Unlike Alfred, I was going to need ever ounce of my acting ability.
"Are we ready, Master Bruce?"
I nodded, letting go of Barry's shoulder, "Ready as I'll ever be… Thanks, Harry… er, Barry… It's nice to be able to talk this over with someone who's been there… someone who understands…" I broke out in sad laughter, "Someone who's not going to turn around and spill the beans to the tabloids… God, Alfred, remember that maitre'd? The Gazette must have been paid him a thousand bucks that time he ratted me out about those two models---."
"I believe that is enough, sir," Alfred interrupted me.
I nodded, stepped back, feigned imbalance before turning towards the revolving door, "You're right… my big mouth… reason why I'm in this mess… Try and speak my mind, get kicked out of my own house…"
As I pretended to trap myself halfway through the door, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Alfred spoke discreetly with Barry. As they both looked to me, I waved and then put in a hearty push on the door, falling on my face as it opened into the lobby.
I wondered who would kill me first, Alfred or Selina.
Or the Joker.
His hatred for me had been at the core of his criminal career since that dreadful first confrontation. The preliminary crimes since his escape from Arkham had been to prepare himself for the grand scheme brewing in his mind. No doubt he had also used them as a means of getting his feet wet after ten years on a gurney. A gurney I had put him on…
He would return the favor if given the chance.
As I had explained to Selina and later to Alfred, I wanted him to focus his sights on me and only me. Having already killed Huntress and attacked Jim and Maureen, he was making his way through the peripheral members of the Family and making his way fast. Tim had mentioned that Kelsey had already put protective guard on a number of law enforcement officials and possible targets.
An honest effort, one that would hopefully prevent her from discovering the Joker's true plan…
My hopes were to be mentioned on the six o' clock news when they rehashed the social events of the city before covering sports, if not the noon report. Thinking of the horrific headlines that would be making their rise over the next few days had brought a foul taste to my mouth.
In bed that morning, Selina had asked how I intended to recover from the spotlight.
With a moment of hesitation, I had offered, "We'll renew our vows… on our anniversary."
She had glared before demanding, "I want a second honeymoon, too."
"We will," I had leaned in to kiss her but she had recoiled.
Before I could inquire into her response, she had growled, "I will have a second honeymoon. You have to earn an invitation."
"Fair enough."
I had to don my game face once more as the elevator doors opened up to the elegant lobby at the penthouse entrance. The doormen had arranged the luggage neatly beside the front double doors, their laughter cut short at the sight of us. To further embarrass myself, I tripped stepping out of the elevator, righting myself by grabbing onto a potted plant, ripping a leafy branch in the process. The doormen stared, mortified, until I offered a low chuckle and loudly exhaled, "Jager for breakfast… bad idea."
Once Alfred had unlocked the penthouse and ushered the doormen to carry my belongings into the atrium, I fished in my wallet and gave each of them several hundred dollar bills. They thanked me profusely and in return I asked them to stay for a drink. As they explained they were working, I countered that technically they worked for me.
A dismal Alfred had put an end to my "fun" after directing the young men back to the elevator. When he returned to the penthouse, he found me already working on the security panel just inside the main entrance. The entire day would be devoted to installing and activating countermeasures and lockdown mechanisms with tools that counted for more than half of my luggage.
"If there is nothing else, sir…"
As I opened the panel to access the larger computer component within, I shook my head.
"Very well, Master Bruce… I will be sitting for Master Ethan for the day… and I intend to visit with Master Tim and Ms. Cassandra."
"Fine."
"I shall return by five this evening."
I managed a grunt of acknowledgment before he quietly excused himself. Not a minute later, there was a soft rap at the door and growled lowly to myself before closing the panel, walking over and ripping the door back, "What, Alf---."
Lucius Fox had taken a step back in surprise before glancing over his right shoulder, "Alfred just went down in the elevator… didn't seem his cheery self and now I know why."
"Lucius… I…" I paused, putting myself back into drunken gear, "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same of you… mind if I come in?"
Shaking my head, I stepped back, feigning poor coordination in closing the door behind him.
He appraised the neatly stacked luggage before explaining, "I came in to catch up on some things so I would be able to spend the rest of my weekend with the wife… it's our anniversary tomorrow."
I let a sad look wash over my face as I closed the distance between us, "Congrats."
"Surprised she's put up with me after all these years… anyway, the head of security called my office, said there was a drunk man making a scene in the lobby. I had asked why they had called me instead of the police," Lucius looked me dead in the eye, without any sign of usually amiable demeanor, "He said it was because the drunk man was you."
"I know, and I'm sorry," I started to explain.
"Fifteen years ago I wouldn't have doubted that you were capable of showing up to Wayne Tower at eight in the morning drunk and staggering… But now… Bruce, what the hell is going on with you?"
Allowing my shoulders to slump in defeat, I answered, "Selina and I… we've been fighting… she… she had it… kicked me out this morning.. You believe it, after all these years and---."
He cut me off once more, "I don't."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't believe you… I don't believe she kicked you out. Same as I don't believe you broke your hand hitting a punch bag… or that you've ever been in a single car accident as a result of drunk or reckless driving… or that you sleep through meetings because you were out clubbing all night…."
I hesitated before dropping my foolish façade, "What are you getting at, Lucius?"
He continued to glare at me before suddenly about facing, slowly walking through the open rooms of the penthouse. Keeping a yard between us, I followed him, still waiting for his response.
Finally, it came, "Bruce… I've known you for half of your life. At first, I believed you were exactly as you appeared to be… Dim-witted, ignorant womanizing socialite… But it was the little things that have added up over the years, and I'm not even talking about the injuries. All those odd looks you'd get when you thought no one was looking… disappearing at all of those fundraisers and banquets… then when things started disappearing from applied sciences…"
He looked to me before proceeding, "Individually, it wouldn't have meant anything… except… combined… and taking in your parents, rest their souls… the way you fought for this city when Washington wanted to shut it down… Gotham may have fallen for it, but I haven't, Bruce… There's not a damned person in the world that cares more about Gotham than you… And someone with that much drive, that much heart… doesn't get kicked out by his wife at eight in the morning, doesn't come to work drunk off his ass…"
The penthouse was eerily silent.
"I'm not angry that you've lied to me all these years, I'm not. As far as I'm concerned it's just another philanthropic act… although far more costly than any check you've signed."
"How long have you---?"
He shook his head, "I'm not finished, Bruce… I'm not going to tell you what I know or how long I've known because at this point, it doesn't matter… What matters is… how much more you're going to put yourself through? Your family… the kids… Bruce, I spent my entire life devoted to this company, watched my own children grow up through school photos…" Lucius closed the space between us, before setting a hand on my shoulder, "Promise me, Bruce, this ruse, whatever it's for… make sure it's worth it."
Seeing how there was no need to hide it any longer, I replied in a low growl, "This ruse… is to protect my family, Lucius."
He nodded, letting his hand fall, "That's fine… but pushing away your family, Bruce, for whatever reason… that's not protecting them."
I had half of a mind to explain myself further to Lucius but he was already making his way to the entrance.
And I had work to do.
Left alone with my thoughts, I spent the remainder of the morning adjusting the countermeasures throughout the entire penthouse. From motion activated tasers to pressure sensitive tiles that turned on knockout gas ducts, I was able to put a dent in the list of upgrades needed before I would be able to leave for the day.
Before running a diagnostics on the system to find a way to speed up the window and door lockdown, I took a seat at the long neglected bar. Instead of calling Selina to check in, I dialed a different number, wondering if I should have done so earlier that morning in order to obtain assistance…
After three rings, "DJG Security, Will Cutting speaking, how can I help you?"
"Will, it's Bruce… was Dick in today?"
"He was, actually he just stepped out, was going to visit Jim and Maureen at the hospital… he said he was going to drop by later this afternoon though."
"Ah."
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
"No… I'll catch up with him later. Thank you."
^V^
I hadn't slept since the brief cat nap I squeezed in during the wee hours Friday morning after patrols.
Even if I wanted to crash, I wouldn't have been able to, not after what happened to Jim and Maureen.
And Sarah.
And Will.
And… Dick.
As Tim and I had shared a fine dinner on Saturday, courtesy of the recently returned Alfred, Dick and Will had been facing off with the Joker at the Firm.
While I had been loading the dishwasher and Tim had been walking Robbie, they had been bleeding to death…
Alfred had left with Ethan a little before five, intending to leave him in the care of his mother at the hospital. When they had left, I actually thought things were turning for the better, that with our "rock" back, we would be able to stabilize and move forward.
Wishful thinking.
Barbara, who had an automated connection to any 911 calls made from any of our residences or cell phones, had been the first to be notified. Two Caucasian males, mid-thirties, one with a gunshot wound to the abdomen, the second with a gunshot wound to the chest and head trauma. Neither had been responsive when medics had arrived.
Dick had called dispatch prior to being shot, and police and medics had made double-time to respond given that the Joker had been involved. Since they had already been at the hospital, both Barbara and Alfred had gone through the necessary measures of contacting everyone. Alfred had naturally called Wayne Manor while Barbara had called our townhouse. I had picked up the phone, expecting her to give an update about Jim and Maureen.
Instead, her frantic voice had said, "The Joker attacked the firm, Will and Dick have been shot."
After dropping the plate I had been holding, I had watched it fall in slow motion before shattering at my feet. Despite the fact the my pulse had started pounding in my ears, I managed to listen as she offered what few details she had. Instinctively, I had assured her that we would head to the Firm immediately, sunlight be damned.
When Tim had returned from the back yard with our bouncing Boxer, he had found me standing amidst the shattered plate ware, "Cass?"
I had looked to him, my mouth agape and my face pale.
After spotting the phone in my hand, he had growled, "What's happened?"
Leaving behind our clean, happy house, we had raced to the satellite cave, donning the reinforced suits as quickly as possible. Although my mind had been overwhelmed with the thought that Dick and Will were on their way to Mercy in ambulances, I found a nursery rhyme floating through my head.
Ring around the rosie…
After pulling on my mask, I looked up to see Tim was already suited up and hopping on one of the cycles. Without looking back to me, he gunned it, spinning around towards the rear of the Sat-Cave in order to scream out the back entrance.
I jumped on my cycle a moment later, making it to the alley on a hind wheel. After skirting the corner, I spotted tire marks on the sidewalk and people already scattered to the side. My father had once taught me that upon discovering a window of opportunity, it was an individual's responsibility to take it.
With the engine loud enough to forewarn my approach, I raced down the sidewalk as well, flying by pedestrians and the vehicular five o' clock traffic. I finally caught up with him after he was forced to swerve and decelerate to avoid a perturbed cab driver. Generally, it was a fifteen minute commute to work but we had made it in less than six, arriving to a t least a dozen police cars and two SWAT vans. Opting for discretion, I followed him behind our the building, coming to an abrupt stop one alley down.
I continued to struggle in keeping up with him as he shot a line up to our neighboring building, an apartment complex that overflowed with yuppies that clogged our local restaurants and coffee shops. We used to make fun of them as they ordered skim milk lattes and organic BLT's.
A pocket full of posies…
Landing on the rooftop of our building, Batman made no hesitation before kicking in the service door and leaping down the stairs. I was about to say that the place was flooded with SWAT teams members who tended to shoot first and ask question s later but I knew he wouldn't have heeded it. Thankfully, I heard him growl into the comm. link, "Kelsey, I'm coming down through the roof, clear the suite…. Now!"
While we raced down the vacant stairwell, I opened up my own communication with Barbara's cell phone but there was no answer.
As we made it to our emergency exit door, I found my blood was pumping hot and fast, although not from the exercise or even the adrenaline of the ride over. As much as I hated to admit it, I was afraid of walking through the lead door, knowing that the Firm we knew was no longer in existence.
I watched as Batman entered the ten digit code before ripping the heavy door back, leaving me to follow him in before it slammed shut.
Even In the main reception area, there were at least a fifty yellow evidence cards already in place, and no doubt the offices had been in the process of being marked before we had arrived. Kelsey stood at the front door, ushering out the last of the forensics team. When she turned around, she wasn't surprised to see us standing there in the brightly lit room.
"SWAT's canvassing the building, room by room… so far no sign of him," she offered before walking towards us. I did my best to look through the open space as if it had been the first time I had seen it, but looking to Batman I noticed he hadn't even bothered.
She continued while proceeding towards Will's office door, "Lobby and elevator cameras have the Joker walking right in through the front door, wearing a trench coat, hat and bandages on his face… when he signed in at the front desk he had mumbled that he was here to see the plastic surgeon on the seventh floor," she paused at the open door, looking back to us, "First victim was in here."
Batman looked to me and growled lowly, "Scan this suite… for anything that's different."
I nodded and left him to join Kelsey, keeping my ear tuned into their conversation.
Kelsey continued, "He's an employee… Will Cutting… gunshot to the abdomen. Found him with a Sig Sauer in his hand but he had a pistol permit, retired NYPD… We've already pulled footprints… looks like some will match the Joker and the other victim in here… looks like the second vic came in, propped up Cutting… went to the desk, cmae back, no doubt with the Sig, and then left… Bullet didn't pass through, we'll have to wait until it's recovered."
The cold cop talk brought a foul taste to my lips.
Carefully making my way through the reception area, where I had once spent most of my time, I found that everything was in order. The Joker had practically destroyed Jim and Maureen's house, with the Hummer driving into the foyer and the few hundred rounds that had spent on the ceiling. But the firm, where his enemies were more closely associated, noting was disturbed.
I was looking through the lounge area as they passed by, heading towards Jim's old office, "Second victim was in here, the owner, Richard Grayson, ex-Bludhaven PD… He was the one that took out one of those cop-killing bank robbers a while back."
"I'm aware," Batman replied softly.
"As you can see, significant struggle in here… desk is wiped clean, chair overturned… and five bullets, four in the wall and the fifth from the vic is over by the arm chair. Spray of blood on the blinds and carpet on the far side of the desk and then this splatter pattern here… and the accumulated spot where the vic fell…"
"He hurt him," I heard the low gravel of Batman's voice. Before Kelsey could ask for an explanation, he continued, "The pattern over there is light… arterial… very minor wound… here, it's too dense, mixture of arterial and venous… no sign of a drip pattern between the two… not the same person, not the same wound."
At that, I switched my lenses before retrieving my UV flashlight, not surprised to see small trickles of blood on the dark carpet, leading down the corridor to the fire exit.
I joined them in Jim's office, ready to disclose my limited findings.
The sight of the massive puddle of blood on the carpet silenced me.
They both looked to me but I was unable to say anything.
"What condition were they in?" he inquired, his eyes leaving my face.
Kelsey hesitated before answering, "Unconscious.. But the medics said they were both in good shape given the significant blood loss. With Mercy being so close they would be able to get them into the OR quick…" My eyes were drawn to Kelsey as she reached into her coat pocket, retrieving a plastic evidence bag, "Cutting had this in his hand… Figured it would make more sense to you…"
Batman took the bag, which contained a pink message slip, splattered with dark blood. I stepped forward to see the Joker had filled out the various lines with his name, time and date of the call in addition to checking the "urgent" box.
In the message part, he had scribbled, "Old acrobats never die, they just lose their grip."
Ashes, ashes…
I had to leave, I had to get out of there, I had to---.
No.
Before he could offer an explanation, real or fake, for the old joke, I spoke up, "There's a faint blood trail, leading to the emergency exit."
Batman nodded, "There wasn't any coming from the roof, he must have made it back to the ground floor unnoticed…"
Kelsey's radio squawked with male's voice, "Commish, this Emmerson. We're in the sub-basement, someone's busted open the emergency exit down here… We've got a bloody coat, arms are both ripped up pretty badly… also a .40 caliber Glock, empty cartridge."
.40 Caliber… no wonder there was so much blood.
As Kelsey excused herself in order to catch up with the progress of the search, Batman looked to me, silently asking what else I found.
"Nothing… everything is in place… this," I gestured to the destroyed office, "Is only thing different."
"There has to be something," he snapped back.
I reminded myself that he was upset, that we both were, and didn't snap back at him.
We took another hour to search through the suite, pushing the patience of the forensics team outside. I watched as he took samples of each of the blood patterns between both offices and the hallway. Before leaving, he told Kelsey he wanted the coat and she agreed as long as he returned it within a few hours.
"And the message slip, as well?"
He had nodded at her.
"Fine… Anything that will help."
Seven years ago, Kelsey wanted nothing to do with us.
Amazing what a little tragedy did to someone's perspective.
Leaving the suite, Batman showed considerably less drive then when we had raced in. On the rooftop, he hesitated before turning to me, his voice soft and pained, "Go to the hospital… I want to run these at the Sat-Cave…"
"Wait---."
He cut me off, "No.. I need to focus on the evidence… They'll both be in surgery for the remainder of the evening… no use in sitting around…"
"No."
"No?"
"I won't leave you alone. Not now."
"Cassandra," Tim's voice surfaced, belying the dark look of the accented cowl, "Barbara needs you… more than I do right now."
"Not so sure about that," I stated.
"Not sure about anything anymore…" his mouth tightened before the growl returned to his voice, "Fine… after going to the hospital, cover the target sites we have left."
I mentally listed them: the Clocktower, Wayne Tower, Wayne Manor and the less likely mayoral mansion, Bryce's and Kelsey's private residences.
"I've already told my father what's happened.. But…"
"Consider it done," I replied to his unasked question.
Parting ways, I returned to the cycles, taking mine to Mercy seeing how I had a plainclothes disguise in the storage compartment under the seat. I tried Barbara's cell phone again, still not expecting a response.
Her voice was music to my ears, "Cass?"
"We checked out the Firm, not much but Joker was wounded… I'm heading your way now, how is---."
She interrupted me, "Where's Tim?"
"Heading to the Sat-Cave, run some evidence."
"Good… Good… Okay… All right…"
"Barbara?"
"I'm fine, Alfred's here… Selina and Bruce are on their way…"
"How are they?"
"… I don't know… I was in recovery when the call was forwarded… by the time I made it to the ER, they were already being moved upstairs… Will went to thoracic surgery and Dick went to ortho… Yes… Okay… Cass, I have to go."
Click.
And we all fall down…
^V^
"Mrs. Grayson?"
"Yes?"
I had been talking on my cell to Cass while situated in the waiting room of orthopedic surgery. The last fifteen minutes had been a blur of action and emotion, compounded with a sleepless night and the worry of my brother and future sister-in-law.
Even though Alfred had brought my smiling little boy to visit, I had been on my last, raw nerve.
Looking to my right, I spotted a middle aged Korean man clad in dark blue medical scrubs approaching. I had already filled out and signed medical release and consent forms, in addition to answering a barrage of questions about Dick's allergies and health history.
Most of which I left out.
"I'm Dr. Yeoum, I'll be taking your husband into surgery… I was wondering if I could have a quick word with you."
I nodded before saying, "Okay," and then into the phone, "Cass, I have to go."
He took a seat in one of the padded waiting chairs across from me. As with most surgeons, his arms were long and sinewy, the muscles refined for the slightest of maneuvers. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he watched me return the phone to my pants pocket.
"How is he?" I asked, trying to keep my anxiety in check.
"He's stable, the bullet entered just under the collar bone," he pointed it out on his own narrow chest, "And exited through the upper thoracic region of his back… unfortunately, the exit wound is fairly severe, the bullet hit the scapula, damaging the head of it in addition to the supraspinatus muscle and the transverse scapular ligament and nerves."
"What's the prognosis?"
He sat upright, no doubt put off by the fact that I was far from confused by his medical jargon, "Well, once we open the shoulder up, we'll have a better idea as to how extensive the damage is… the x-ray showed more than a dozen bone splinters that will need to be removed… from there, we'll hopefully be able to resect and reattach the nerves and muscle with a synthetic tissue fed in to a plate pinned into the scapula."
My mind suddenly flashed back to just before Bruce's knee replacements, when Dick had been watching Discovery Health surgical footage practically nonstop.
Dr. Yeoum, proceeded, "Most likely, he'll require additional surgery once the traumatic swelling resolves… I've seen far worse damage done with complete mobility restored."
I wanted to ask what the worst case scenario was for recovery but couldn't bring the words to my lips. Instead I questioned, "The triage nurse said he had a head wound?"
Nodding, he replied, "Minor concussion, four inch laceration on his temple. We'll have Dr. Sands from plastics come down and fix it while he's under." A nurse called his name from down the hall and he nodded, "I'll be right in, Carol." When he glanced back to me, "Is there anyone I can have contacted for you?"
"My… Family, they're on their way."
"Good, the surgery should be at least four hours. Six at most. I'll have a nurse come out and update you regularly."
"Thank you," I whispered as I looked up at him. My eyes then shifted to focus behind him as the elevator doors opened to reveal Selina. Alone.
After excusing himself, Dr. Yeoum made his way back down the corridor to scrub-in and dissect my husband's shoulder down to the bone. Rather than watch him disappear behind double doors marked "Authorized Personnel Only", I kept my gaze on Selina as she jogged over.
"How is he?" she asked, out of breath.
After relaying the information to her, Selina sat down in the chair across from her. I then asked, "Where is everyone?"
"I dropped the kids off with Bruce…"
I nodded, "... He called me this morning, told me he was upgrading the system at the Penthouse. Said something about ignoring whatever came on the news about him."
"He… wants the joker to come after him, instead of the rest of us… had this plan to make a scene that Bruce Wayne had lost it, marriage was on the rocks, kicked out of the mansion, moving into the penthouse alone… drunk, sad, vulnerable… Hoping that the Joker would take advantage of it."
We looked to the wall mounted television screen, quietly broadcasting the six o' clock news. There was a late-breaking report airing, with footage rotating between the exterior of the Firm's building with muted images and video of Dick, my father, Will and Tim in action or being interviewed.
And of course, footage of the Bludhaven shootout.
After a silent two minutes, Selina spoke softly, without any humor in her voice,
"Guess Bruce is going to have to wait to ruin his reputation… Any word on Will?"
I nodded slowly, my eyes locked on the screen as video played of Dick, smiling at a press conference, standing beside my father…
"He was shot in the abdomen… I didn't get much more than that… His girlfriend is on her way… I've called his-wife but she hasn't called back."
"Where does she live?"
I automatically replied, "New York City."
Selina stated, "I'll have Bruce send a jet to pick them up… that way she has no excuse not to bring the girls down." Sitting back in the chair, she crossed her arms over the front of her wool dress coat, "Nightmare…"
"What?" I asked, my mind buzzing loudly.
"It's a nightmare… endless nightmare… ," she leaned forward again, "And like a nightmare, there's nothing we can do to stop it."
I hesitated before responding, "That's not true… we can still wake up…"
Since the death of Huntress, I had been in contact with Clark several times. Since his involvement in the Planetarium bombing, he hadn't said a word to any one us, thanks to Bruce's right cross. Having worked with him and the Justice League for over a decade, I had earned an audience with him simply out of mutual respect.
That morning, while Dick had been calling the gun range to secure us a private appointment, I had contacted Clark, who had surprisingly been at home having breakfast with his wife.
"I'm not interrupting am I?" I had asked, trying to hide the pain in my voice.
Super-hearing aside, he had been able to pick up on it, "Not all, Barbara… is everything all right?"
After informing him about the Joker's attack on my brother's house, he had been quick to offer coming to Gotham. I had stopped him by saying, "No… No.. It's just that they're moving back to Chicago once Jim's cleared to fly… that far away, I won't be able to protect them, not that I could here…"
"Don't, Barbara… don't blame yourself. From the sounds of it, there's wouldn't have been much that even I could have done." Clark had exhaled slowly before continuing, "And I will keep an eye on them."
"Thank you, Clark."
"It's the least I could do… and please, tell Tim, if he needs me… to hell with Bruce, I'm here."
I had almost told him to come, like he had said, to hell with Bruce.
Although, too late, he still made perfect timing.
My gaze was on the elevator once more as Clark stepped off onto the floor, wearing a tired midnight blue suit and a look on his face torn between anguish and heartbreak. After surveying the near empty waiting room, he looked to me, "Barbara, I'm so sorry… How is he?"
Rehashing Dick's condition again, I added, "Clark… how did you find out, I haven't told anyone outside of Gotham?"
Clark nodded to the television, "This is national news… I was in the Florida, fixing a dam before it burst… Was getting ready to head home when I saw Dick on the news through someone's living room window… And when I found out why…"
He then looked to Selina before asking, "Where is everyone, I had expected the entire Family to be standing by?"
I answered first, "Tim and Cass were investigating the scene… She should be on her way soon…"
"And not Tim?" he inquired, his hands finding his hips.
I shook my head, "It's for the best… I'd much rather have him out there hunting down the Joker than sitting in a plastic chair."
"What about Bruce, the kids?"
Selina then spoke, "He has them at the Penthouse."
"I saw that on the news as well…" he looked over Selina and when her brow rose, he clarified, "Not quite national news, but I picked up a bit of it in the lobby downstairs. I figured he was miserable, I hope it's not that bad."
Selina shook her head, "No, it's just… All part of the plan. At least for now."
After catching Clark up on the last twelve hours, his head jerked to the left and he quickly promised to back later that night once Dick was out of surgery. I assumed he had heard of some disaster or global emergency that required his attention. When the elevator doors opened for the third time, I suddenly wondered if confronting Bruce had been the emergency…
He stepped off of the car, holding the door as Mattie and Nathan followed him with Alfred holding Ethan entering the corridor last. Holding his son's hand, Bruce tried to walk as fast as possible towards us without dragging poor Nathan. Mattie, far too teenaged and independent for hand holding, had settled on walking beside Alfred, carrying Ethan's baby bag with her own backpack slung over the other shoulder.
Once within hearing range of the waiting room, Bruce leaned over and whispered in Nathan's ear before letting the boy loose.
With a grin on his face, Nathan raced towards me, coming to an abrupt halt before hugging me and kissing my cheek. Patting his back, I kissed him back and asked him what it was for.
After letting me go, he shrugged his tiny shoulders and said, "Cause," before turning and climbing onto his mother's lap.
When the remainder of the group joined us, I offered to take Ethan from a weary looking Alfred, letting the fidgety toddler sit on my lap. While I kissed his caramel curls on his head, Mattie approached and handed of his bag, her usually bright face dismal. I squeezed her hand before she walked over to join her mother and brother on the couch.
She had seen her parents victims of a car accident, Tim nearly killed by Zsasz and even Cassandra knocked down by Hades' bullet but it was the first time Dick had been grievously injured in her lifetime. The last time he had gone under the knife had been when he had been shot in the leg shortly after Tim had taken the cowl. Even then, it hadn't been serious and he had been back on his feet in no time.
Not this time, boy wonder…
Alfred chose to sit in the single chair beside me, doing his best to be cordial despite the fact that he had been going nonstop since his secret return to Gotham.
I found myself thinking back to that morning, with Dick hugging Alfred in disbelief.
… Dick, I'm not joking. You can stay if you---
… I told you, I'm not leaving you alone. I never will…
Ethan looked up at me and grasped my chin before smiling, "Mah-mah."
I kissed his fingertips, "I see you, little man."
"Mah-mah," he repeated before looking around, "Okay… Dada?"
I had been doing just fine until then.
It hadn't been finding out that the Joker knew who we were, hearing Dick's dispatch call coming over my cell phone or even the sad looks befalling my Family.
It was Ethan, smiling while looking for his dada, that had tears flowing over my cheeks.
^V^
I was breaking Bobo's face when Barbara called to say both Dick and Will were out of surgery and in recovery.
Thanks to Dick's aggressive attack on the Joker, I had been able to at least find one member of the diabolical trio. The jacket that had been found in the sub-basement of our building had been the one the Joker was wearing during the attack. Specifically, while Dick had stabbed him with batarangs, according to the security footage I had swiped from our Firm's system.
It wouldn't make a difference in the investigation performed by the Special Crimes unit and the last thing Dick needed to worry about was explaining his weapon's cache.
A dark charcoal, size forty men's blazer by Keithmoor. Not tailored, no embroidery or anything in the pockets as a means of identifying who owned the jacket before the Joker "borrowed" it.
But, there was a dry cleaner's receipt pinned on the inside for Arrow Laundry Services in the Neville Business Court for "Acct. 34561".
After retreating the Sat-Cave to run the blood samples from the jacket and joke and to check for fibers and other sources of DNA, I had made my way to Tri-Corner to drop them off to Kelsey. In order to save her time, I had taken ten minutes to catch her up to speed on what I had discovered as far as forensics went, excluding the receipt that I had taken for my own.
If it had lead to the Joker, I had wanted to have a word with him before the officials showed up.
"Here are copies of all the security tapes… the offices weren't on camera feeds but the reception and hallway cameras had good shots of the Joker coming in, shooting Cutting and then running off to hide in the stairwell. Then ten minutes later, Grayson walks into the office, finds Cutting, gives him a gun from the desk and then goes into his own office… comes out wit a vest on so whatever Cutting said, Grayson knew something was going to happen."
Even though I knew both were under anesthesia, I had asked, "Any statements?"
She had sighed before replying, "No, both are still in surgery…. But I have two detectives from Special Crimes standing by for when they get out."
It would take an act of God to get passed the Family waiting by both of the victims' bedsides.
Kelsey had thanked me, "Not just for tonight… for everything."
"It's not over yet… when it is, you can thank me then," I had replied before jumping out of her window.
From there, I had returned to the Firm, wanting to mentally and visually run through the attack as they had been depicted on the security tapes.
Breaking into the Laundromat had been simple enough, after all, it was a respectable Neville neighborhood, and even the password for the computer had beenn ArrowLaundryServices. The account belonged to a man named Ed Tudeski, with a billing address of 3421 Reservoir Road, not two miles from the business court. DMV showed him to be a sixty-eight year old, brown eyed, gray haired white male.
Organ donor.
Given the condition of his sports blazer, I had a bad feeling about what state Mr. Tudeski was in.
I managed to take refuge in a large oak that seemed to engulf the small property's front lawn. It was a nice enough house, two stories, nice siding and recently painted trim. As I staked out the residence, I ran it's address through our system, not surprised to see it was currently listed with Malcolm Real Estate.
Perhaps Tudeksi had found a very wrong buyer…
After twenty minutes, the only activity had been a shadow moving from an upstairs room down to the ground floor before disappearing to the back. Barging in meant possibly facing off with the Joker or even worse, an innocent man who was just going downstairs for a glass of water.
With Dick and Will joining Maureen and Jim in the hospital, I had no other choice.
Upon leaping onto the roof, I scaled around to the back to find the shadowed figure. As I carefully dropped to the back porch, I was able to look into the kitchen to see a man was in fact getting a drink of water.
But not an innocent man and certainly not Tudeski.
I had seen him only once in person, but the mottled, fading bruises that still adorned my body said it was more than enough.
He had approached the back door, hitting the kitchen light but at the same time, he accidentally hit a porch light, putting me in the spot light.
Ah, hell.
Losing the element of surprise, I had simply dove through the window, knocking Bobo to the ground before wrenching him back to his feet. After slamming my elbow into the side of his head and cramming a fist into his jaw, I had shoved him face first into the tiled countertop. He had fallen to the ground along with a number of pots and pans, With the dimly lit room full of sharp edges, I had taken a fraction of a second to activate my night lenses.
The room had turned green just before Bobo swung a cast iron frying pan at my face
Good timing.
I had ducked before launching my shoulder into his meaty abdomen, using whatever momentum I could muster to heft him into the air before slamming him to the ground once more. He had reached for another pan but my boot came down hard, crushing his wrist.
The scream that had escaped his bloodied lips brought a smile to mine.
As he moved to get to his hands and knees, I had kicked him hard in the back of the head, sending him face first to the pale linoleum floor. Landing between his shoulders with both of my knees, I had grasped his uninjured arm with all intentions of injuring it. Wrenching it behind him, I had forced it to cross over to the other side forced, sneering as he roared in pain.
Something in my mind had told me it was too much.
Helena's face flashed in front of my eyes and I had realized it hadn't been nearly enough.
Holding his overextended arm straight with my left hand, I had brought my right elbow down on his, feeling and hearing his humerus shatter on impact.
My breath hot with anger, I had leaned in to growl into his ear, "Where is he?"
Bobo had snickered in response.
Sitting up, I had proceed to smash his face into the floor, growling once more, "Where is he?!"
His chuckles had grown louder, causing his back to shake slightly.
Grabbing him by the hair to force him back down once more, I had heard a soft tone in my ear followed by Barbara's voice "Boss?"
"I'm busy," I had snapped before forcing Bobo's head down with e swift shove. With his teeth crunching in his mouth, he had suddenly lost the will to laugh at me.
"Not for this… Will and Dick are out of surgery… so far so good… they're in recovery now."
Rising to my feet, I asked, "How are they?"
"Okay… Will had a tear in his spleen and diaphragm but once they were able to get in there, they were able to put everything back in order," she explained while I checked Bobo's vitals. As I bound him, ignoring his injured limbs, she continued, "Dick… is a little worse off."
My breath caught momentarily before I inquired, "How so?"
Her tone softened, weakened, "The bullet ruptured the ligaments and nerves over the top of his shoulder blade… the ortho surgeon was able to reattach the ligaments and muscles without a problem but the neurosurgeon that came down… he had to take transplant nerves from Dick's leg…"
"And?" I growled as I began dragging the limp body out the back door.
"They said it will be at least a year before he can… before he will ahev full use of his arm…"
I punched Bobo's face once more time for no reason at all.
No, there was a reason.
Before she could continue, I informed her, "Well, it wasn't for nothing."
"What did you find?" she asked, her voice finding life once more.
"The Joker was wearing a suit that had a dry cleaner's receipt inside of it… belonging to a man in Neville. I went to observe his residence, possibly infiltrate when I found Bobo was inside."
Barbara's breathing hitched before she asked, "Did you---?"
The blood on my gloves was growing sticky, "Yes…. I did. I'm going to tour the house, then call it in to GCPD."
"I doubt the Joker would go back there, not after leaving such a blatant clue behind."
Nodding, I tied Bobo to the wrought iron railing of the stone accented porch. Using enough D-cel cable to jump from the fiftieth story of the Hart Tower, I returned to the house, "Agreed, but whatever he's left behind will hopefully point out to what he is up to next."
"Let me know if you need---"
"No, Barbara, I've got this… You have other things to take care of right now."
Click.
I opted to start from the top in order to work my way down. The house was very well lived in with dirty clothes, empty food cartons and general mess covering every other square foot. The Joker had certainly made himself at home, drawing over paintings and portraits, even going as far as putting actual pictures of himself over those that once featured Tudeski's family.
There was a life-sized silhouette of a pointy eared stick figure on the guest bathroom's wall with nearly thirty razors, knives and shards of glass embedded all over the body.
At least he had drawn a smiley face on my doppleganger.
The basement was an abattoir.
A reclining chair with buckles and belts sat beneath an overhead lamp with a number of empty stainless steel carts surrounding it. Dark, dried patches of blood scattered the floor, walls, chair and ceiling. Even though I took pictures and samples, I knew whose blood it had been, who had suffered at the hands of a monster.
Helena…
I took two hours to scan the house before calling it into Kelsey. Before leaving, I returned to the backyard to find Bobo was coming to. When his swollen eyes found my shadow he tried to smile.
Crouching in front of him, I promised I would talk to him later before patting his throbbing elbow.
I was nearly midnight when I snuck into Mercy General Hospital, just as I had the night before to meet with Nightwing and Barbara, not twenty-four hours earlier. Rahter than calmly question Jim and Maureen, I had come to make see how the Joker's latest victims were fairing.
Seeing how Will's latest girlfriend, Ronna was in his room, holding his hand while feeding him ice chips and gentle kisses, I opted to visit with Dick first.
Barbara was dozing in the chair beside Dick's bed, her wheelchair pushed up against the wall behind her. Surprisingly enough, there wasn't any one else in the room and when I glanced into the hall, there wasn't a familiar face in sight. Turning back to the gurney, my eyes found their way to Dick's bandaged torso, his left arm securely wrapped to his chest. A small piece of gauze was taped to his brow and there was an oxygen cannula under his nose.
"T-tim?" he croaked.
Icy blue eyes found me under heavy lids and I stepped around the end of the bed in order to stand on the opposite side of Barbara. Rather than loom above him, I chose to pull up one of the chairs against the wall, nearly smirking at the sight of a crayon colored Get Well card from Nathan.
"I'm here, Dick," I spoke softly enough to wake his wife but hopefully loud enough for him to hear me over the fog.
He smirked, but his lower lip trembled, "I had him… I had him and.. I let him go."
"Dick, don't," I started.
"I had him," he looked to me with his eyes narrowing, "I had him and I… I let my anger get to me. I couldn't stop it. Not after Will. Jim and Maureen... Baby Sarah… Helena… Barbara… Jason."
I reached out and touched his knee, knowing touching his left arm would have been far crueler than what I had dealt Bobo, "I said 'don't'. What you did to the Joker… Dick, he messed up. Left a coat behind that lead me to the house he's been hiding at."
Dick's eyebrows softened, "What?"
As I recounted the night's discoveries, including the apprehension of Bobo, Dick's face lightened and he finally smirked.
He cleared his throat softly before responding, "Wondering who's blood that was."
"What?" After he nodded to my gloved hands, I replied, "I questioned him at the house in Neville… figured I'd let the prison ward at Gotham Memorial put him back together before I finished getting my answers."
"He won't talk," Dick sighed, wincing as he tired to adjust himself against the pillows.
Rising to my feet, I clenched my fists, "Yes. He will."
^V^
Just when I thought things with my Dad couldn't have gotten any worse…
Aside from Alfred returning and my sneaking Terry in Saturday morning, the entire day had been lost to tragedy. Dad had yelled at Nathan. Dad had yelled at Mom. Dad had told us about Jim and Maureen. Dad had told Nathan the truth. Dad had moved out.
Dad had told us about Dick and Will.
After Dad had left for the city with Alfred, I had helped Terry get back to the edge of the property so that he could get home before his father woke up. Before I gave him a leg up over the fence, I made him promise to call me later.
After kissing me quickly, he had smiled, "So pushy."
When I had made it back to the Manor, I decided to hide in my room for the day, seeing how I wanted nothing to do with anyone. As upset as I was about my father's actions, I was still worried for Jim and Maureen. The Joker attacking the Huntress had been sad but since I had never met her, it hadn't hit me as hard as it had the rest of the Family. But I had been to Jim and Mo's house for dinner, for play dates with Ethan and Sarah and just to visit when I was in town with Dick and Barbara.
To think that the Joker, the madman from the files on the Cave's computer and the man responsible for a Robin suit to be in a glass case, had attacked them…
It had been the most terrifying moment of my life.
That was until I had heard that the Joker had shot Will and Dick.
At a little after five, Mom had banged on my door and told me to pack a backpack for things for Nathan and myself to do for the evening. Asking for further detail had lead to no further explanation aside from, "Wear something comfortable."
Since she had spent the entire ride down to the city on the phone, I had been stuck in the back seat with Nathan asking me what was going on. When he asked if we were going to see Dad, I had answered, "You can if you want, but I'm not going to."
He had looked at me from underneath he hood of his sweatshirt, "You don't want to see Dad?"
"Nope," I answered while texting Terry, hoping for salvation.
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Why?"
I glared at my younger brother and snapped, "Because I don't want to! That's why!"
Mom shot me a look in the rearview mirror, "Mattie, that's enough."
There had been two minutes of silence before asking, "Why couldn't I bring Ace?"
Thankfully, Terry texted me back and I was able to have a conversation with a normal person instead of my annoying brother. Made all the more annoying because he knew the truth, at nearly half of the age I had found out.
And Dad had just told him, I had to figure it out practically by myself.
My Family was falling apart.
We arrived at Wayne Tower just before I was going to punch Nathan in the arm for pestering me with questions about Batman and Robin and Nightwing and Batgirl and the Joker and the Riddler and so on. Rather than parking and heading inside, Mom had pulled up to the drop-off zone just as Dad stepped out from the lobby.
"What's going on?" I finally asked Nathan's unanswered question.
"Mattie, I'm sorry, I don't have time t explain… just go with your father, I'll see you later tonight." She had unbuckled herself and stepped out of the driver's seat before opening Nathan's door. After he jumped out, Mom kissed his cheek and told him to behave himself.
"I promise," he had grinned up at her before running around the back of the SUV to tackle Dad, "Dad, I'm starving."
After getting out of the car myself, I had waited for my mother to walk around to join her family. I had shifted the heavy back pack on my shoulders as she wrapped an arm around my back, "I have to leave… you're going to stay with Dad until we meet up later."
"I'm not---," I had started.
Mom leaned over and looked at me in the eyes. That close, I finally realized that she hadn't been angry, she had been sad. Interrupting me, she had spoken sternly, "Mattie… you are staying here, with your father… where it is safe. Understood?"
My stomach had started churning. Something had happened.
"Ready, kitten?" my father's voice had drifted to my ears.
Ready, for what?
We had ridden up in the elevator in near silence, save for Nathan's giggles as he sat on Dad's shoulders. I kept my eyes on the numbers as the rose up through the double digits, stopping at sixty-one.
Entering the penthouse, Dad had let Nathan to the ground, pausing as the boy took flight and began running around the open rooms, screaming in delight. Far less enthusiastic, I had stepped up to stand beside my father, and without looking at him, had asked, "What's going on?"
"I wish I knew," he had sighed before walking to the all and activating the alarm system.
With Nathan spent from his running, he had finally returned to us, gasping for air, "Dad… I want to live here all the time."
"No, tiger," Dad had reached down and picked him up, "We're just here for a little bit… We'll go home tonight."
"Why are we here.. If we're just going back home?" he had asked, shrugging his little shoulders.
Dad's face had hardened before he had said, "Let's go have a seat."
Even though Nathan had known the truth, Dad still went through the motions of sugar-coating what had happened. Even still, it had been difficult to listen to. For Nathan, someone had broken into the Firm and shot Will and Dick. Nathan had asked a barrage of questions, continuing the trend of the day, but Dad hadn't been able to answer most of them.
"Is Dick going to be okay?"
Dad had hesitated before answering, "The doctors are going to fix him… good as new."
For me, it had translated as the Joker had infiltrated the Firm and gunned down Will and Dick in cold blood before making yet another speedy getaway. And the hesitation before answering if Dick was going to be all right…
"Can we go see him?" I had finally asked. Where he and Nathan were sitting together on the love seat, I had been by myself on the couch opposite of them.
"Mom and Barbara are at the hospital now… We'll go over later, after they are out of surgery and---."
"Well, sitting here is stupid," I had interrupted him as I rose to my feet, "We should be there waiting, not here!"
Before Dad had been able to voice his disapproval at my tone, Nathan had jumped up as well, "We have to go see him, Dad, I want to go see Dick."
Two against one.
Even though it had been far more comfortable at the penthouse, it had felt better sitting just down the hall from where Dick and Will were, even if it was on crappy chairs and couches. Dad had ordered dinner for everyone but aside from Nathan and Cass, no one had much of an appetite. I had looked forward to hanging out with Cass while we waited but after the third update on how Dick was doing, she had excused herself.
To walk Frank and Robbie.
More like suiting back up to help Tim…
Lucky.
Since my solo night as a crime fighter, I had done nothing but pray for another taste of it. It was forbidden fruit, as I had promised my parents and Tim that I wouldn't make a repeat performance until I had passed their expectations. Even with all that I had accomplished, judging from the training videos on the Cave computer, I had my work cut out for me.
… I lost one child to him, Mattie. I won't lose another…
With Dick laying out on an operating table, I had hoped my father's words were still holding true.
At a little after eleven, Nathan was asleep on the couch with his head in our father's lap, covered with Dad's wool coat. Mom sat on the other side of Dad, her hand entwined with one of his despite the way they had fought all morning. Barbara watched on as Ethan slept in the impromptu bed Dad and Alfred had mustered by pushing to of the armchairs together.
With his plush elephant, pillow and blanket, he was out for the night.
Barbara had remained in her chair for the evening, alternating between checking in at the nurse's station, calling down to Jim's room and trying to get word on Will. Alfred had done his best to aide her, but after Ethan had fallen asleep, Alfred had found himself without anything to do.
I had smiled to see him dozing in the chair.
"Mrs. Grayson?"
I looked up with Barbara to see a short man approaching, removing a blue cotton cap as he looked over the faces in the waiting room. The nurse at the desk had said Dick was the only one in orthopedic surgery, thus making us the only family sitting and waiting.
"Dr. Yeoum…" she smiled briefly.
Mom stood and a moment later, Dad joined her, carefully setting Nathan's head back down on the chair. As they joined Barbara and the doctor, I checked to see Alfred was still sleeping before getting up and joining the adults.
"--- Dick's father, Bruce, his wife, Selina," I had caught Barbara introducing my parents, watching on as they both shook hands with the doctor.
"How is he?" Barbara had then asked.
"The muscle and connective tissue repair went fine… I don't see a cause for concern at this time for a future of limited mobility. We were able to suture the vascular tissue and restore proper blood flow without any sign of necrosis."
My father cleared his throat, "What about the nerves?"
Dr. Yeoum sighed, "The transverse scapular nerve was completely destroyed. I had head of neurosurgery join me… he was able to harvest nerves from his lower leg in order to replace it. If the transplant doesn't hold, we'll have to try replacing it at a later time, after an immobilization period, not to mention once all of the swelling goes down."
"How long…" Barbara began, biting her lip before continuing, "How long will he be immobilized."
The doctor shook his head, "Given that there was such extensive damage to the bone, connective tissue, muscles and nerves, we're looking at leas three months, possibly even five before a secondary operation, followed by another rest period and then several months of rehabilitation."
"Almost a year?" Mom had said softly.
"Optimistically, yes. Far better than the alternative," Dr. Yeoum had said, "He's already in recovery, we'll move him into his room in about a half of an hour… Visiting hours or over but… it's a quiet night… And I'm sure he'd like to see some familiar faces."
When we had been told Dick was set up in his own room, Mom had stayed behind with Alfred, Ethan and Nathan while Barbara, Dad and myself had gone to visit for a bit. I kept thinking back to when Dad had surgery on his knees, how he had woken up groggy and completely out of it.
Before going in, I had found myself grabbing onto Dad's hand tightly. He had squeezed back before leaning over, "It's okay, kitten. He's okay."
And he was.
Dick had been propped up in the gurney, arm folded and bandaged to his torso, but a weak smile had been on his face.
Losing a year of the life he loved was certainly better than the alternative.
^V^