Please know that even though I may take a while to update, I have not forgotten about, nor will I abandon, this story.
When Dick had first meet Ryder, she gave him a piece of scrap paper with a riddle on it. He, in turn, then gave that paper to Bruce who entered it into the Batcomputer to be gone over later. From there Babs gained access to it and tried to decipher it whenever she had some free time. She was the one to send it over to Tim when he asked if there was anything he would be able to help with while still in California with the Teen Titans.
Even with most of the members of the Bat-Family trying to work out this riddle, none were successful.
Then came the second riddle.
Tim was convinced they had to be connected in someway; but the answers eluded even him.
But finally, with the third and final riddle, that connection became clear.
"Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!" The third Robin was already on his feet and running towards the hanger of the Teen Titan's base where the jets were stored, he was going to need the fastest one, as he dialed an encrypted phone number.
"This is Oracle," a deep computerized voice answered after the first ring.
"O. It's me. I figured out the riddles. They're bad. Like really bad. I'm heading back to Gotham right now. Contact me for more details. Red, out."
Ryder didn't notice when her black die fell out of her pocket. Sure, she knew, but right then, in that moment, all she cared about was that Black was here; Black was on the other side of the door; she hadn't seen Black in years; Black, Black, Black.
"Miss Cassandra, what a pleasant surprise."
Cassandra Cain. Black. Her favorite person.
She ran to her. Right under Silver's outstretched arm as he held the door open, barreling into the older woman's legs and encasing them in a death grip. The girl's actions greatly surprised all three onlookers.
Understandably, Cassandra was the most confused. "Why she here?" She hid it well, what with her training and all, but she was extremely surprised.
The other two, once broken from their stunned silence at seeing the nonphysical child initiate a hug, answered her question, "It is a long story."
Damian had huffed out a 'not liking an audience while playing chess' when leaving the room before Alfred began his story. Not like look weak; think will loose game; remove self from situation.
Cassandra listened quietly to the elderly butler's tale of Ryder as he knew it from her chair across from his, nodding where she knew she should nod.
Ryder-not real name, Jason gave her-was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of them, her tactile quota having been fulfilled for the next five years, played with her dice lining and ordering, relining and reordering as she saw fit.
It was strange for Alfred to watch the two girls sitting by themselves in the living room, seemingly ignoring the other but at the same time basking in their closeness. Not a word was said between the two, but the butler was certain a conversation he couldn't understand was being communicated right in front of him.
A silent conversation that went on for hours.
Damian joined them for lunch, inquiring about Cassandra's experience with his father's latest charity case.
Says words, not mean them. High respect Ryder, not want others know this. Think look weak; taught can never look weak.
"Meet Europe many years ago. Think she stow away on boat. Together twenty-seven nights. One word-'safe'-then she never talk again. That okay-me same. She have few things in suitcase. No clothes. Buy her same red sweatshirt wore all time-she have two. Keep warm."
"You're the one her second hoddie came from?"
"Yes. Good color. Easy find in crowd."
Lunch had finished and the children dispersed to do their own thing. Damian returned to his room (more than likely to work on some art project), Cass descended to the BatCave (to train if Alfred would have to hazard a guess), and Ryder completely disappeared.
There wasn't yet cause for concern, so Alfred busied himself with the dishes and beginning to prep the dinner time meal, making a mental note to check in on the youngest in about an hour if he didn't see her before.
"Oh, goodness!"
Turns out he would be seeing her much earlier than that, because as soon as he tuned away from the sparkling clean dishes he almost tripped over her.
He recovers quickly. "What brings you here, Miss Ryder?"
She takes two steps over so she's standing right next to the counter, in front of an open cook book Alfred knew should be on the second shelf of his third bookcase in his room. He comes closer and peers down at the open page, reading 'Snickerdoodle Cookies' in bold type across the top of the page. Handwritten notes were jotted in the margins, adding a bit more sugar, a little less flour, Jason's favorite, bake for exactly eight and a half minutes at four hundred degrees.
"Shall the two of us whip up some cookies?"
*tap*
"Red Robin; go ahead."
"Tim? It's Babs." That she was calling him back meant she had received his earlier call. That she was using their real names means she had already secured the line.
"Good to hear you, Barbra. Is everything quiet over there? It's about...8 o'clock in Gotham now, right?" He knew it was.
"A little past, yes. Now, you figured out the riddles? Does that have something to do with why you asked if it's all quiet here?
"Yes. I can explain the riddles in more detail later, but right now we don't have the time. There is an Arkham breakout being planned and with our luck it'll probably go down tonight."
To her credit, the Commissioner's daughter only allowed her shock to show for 3 seconds in the form of silence.
"Understood. Oracle will contact the police department as well as Arkham staff. I'll also call Bruce if you haven't already."
He hadn't.
His silence was all the reply she needed. "I'll give B a call while I'm emailing the others, great multitasking practice." She wouldn't press for answers on Batman and Red Robin's strained relationship. Lord knows that brooding man pushes everyone away sooner or later. "What's your ETA?"
"Two hours if I push it. I might not make it back for the start of the fun if it does end up being tonight. Make sure they save at least one or two for me, would you?"
"I'll do what I can. Oracle out."
As soon as she disconnected the call, Babs started right on the email that would be sent to all officers and security guards and staff of both the GCPD and Arkham Asylum.
She didn't need to ask Tim how sure he was about this. It was 100%, always was. And even if it didn't end up being tonight that the breakout occurred, it was coming, of that she was certain.
As her fingers were flying across the keyboard, she pressed a speed dial on her headset and waited for the billionaire to pick up, never once lifting her gaze from the screen in front of her or fingers slowing their dance across the keys.
"Hey Bruce. Tim called. We may have a problem."
"What smell good?" Cass asks as she wanders into the dinning room, table already set as Ryder, using oven mitts, brings a bowl in from the kitchen. Peas, the ex-assassin notes as the child walks past her, she likes peas. Cassandra pops into the kitchen to see if Alfred needs any more assistance or if the two of them already have it under control.
Turns out the final dish was the lasagna in the oven Alfred was checking on so Cass' help wasn't needed in the kitchen. However, "If you could fetch Master Damian it would be much appreciated."
She did just that.
When the two entered the dinning room they noticed right away that a single cookie was placed in the center of five plates. The head of the table was obviously where Bruce would sit, Damian claimed the chair to the immediate right, the girls would sit in the spots across from Damian, which left the final place for the family butler.
He tried to get out of it, of course, but Ryder had set the stage perfectly for Damian to practically guilt the man into sitting with them for a meal. "The place has already been set, Pennyworth, the cookie has surely left crumbs and you will need to wash the plate regardless. However, I suppose if you feel you must, you can cast aside Ryder's thoughtfulness at including you when she set the table."
And then Cass chimed in, "Yes. Alfred. Sit."
Now they were just ganging up on him, how unfair. But, perhaps, Ryder looked just a little bit sad? No, surely it was just a trick of the light, or his aging eyesight, the child looked no different than she normally does.
But, just to be on the safe side though... "Very well; just this once."
After the main meal was eaten and Alfred had started to clear away the dirty dishes, Damian took it upon himself, since there was still no sign of Bruce, to grab the cookie off the plate at the head of the table and shove it in his mouth.
Ryder tilted her head slightly and Cass openly shot him a disapproving look.
"What?," the young boy huffs after he swallows his mouthful, "I'm not letting it go to waste just because Father is not here to enjoy it."
Ryder turns back to her meal, her plate full of peas now down to about a dozen little spheres, and pops them into her mouth one at a time, chewing and swallowing before the next one is picked up with alternating hands.
As Alfred returns to grab the other empty plates, the front door could be heard opening. He changes course to retrieve his master's coat and soon Bruce is standing before the table, looking slightly frazzled.
Right away Cassandra notices his body language and is on her feet, ready for action, immediately; Damian not far behind, brows furrowed.
"What happen? What wrong?"
"Barbra contacted me. Said Tim got in touch with her. According to his intel, there is an Arkham breakout in the plans. It may happen tonight, or it could be in a few weeks, we're not sure. We will all need to be on guard and watch each other's back for the foreseeable future."
"Yes," Cassandra agrees readily.
"Of course Father. As much as I dislike Drake personally, he is rarely wrong about these kinds of things."
Bruce observes the state of the kitchen table as Alfred returns to tidy up. "I'm sorry I missed dinner," he said, sounding genuinely regretful about missing the meal.
"Ryder make cookies." Cassandra informed Bruce as she walks past him towards the grandfather clock, stubbly looking over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow at Damian who just glared back at her. He knew what she was up to.
"I see; I'm sure they are delicious. Unfortunately, I won't have time to eat right now, time is of the essence. We will need all hands on deck immediately."
Damian took his father's cue to follow after Cassandra, leaving Ryder alone with Bruce with just enough time for her to slip a napkin from her dice bag and approach the man.
"Now Ryder, I want you to stay here tonight. No playing the hero, no matter what you 'see,' alright? We can take care of ourselves, and we'll have each other's back."
She offers the napkin to him in lieu of a response.
He takes it and finds that nestled neatly inside is a cookie he hadn't seen in quite a while. He blinks down at it for a moment before turning a sincere smile to the young girl.
"Thank you, Ryder."
He has the cookie nearly devoured by the time he reaches the staircase behind the grandfather clock.
Ryder, then, turns back towards the kitchen. Silver needed help loading the dishwasher.
Bruce descends the stone steps to the BatCave munching on the snickerdoodle cookie as he goes. He didn't miss the expression on Damian's and Cassandra's face when they saw him eating the cookie, he just chose to ignore it for now (he'd have to ask Cass about it later since she looked more amused while his son looked annoyed; there had to be a story there).
They changed and were ready to hit the streets in under ten minutes.
"Be careful Master Bruce. Young Master. Young Miss." Alfred gave each a small nod as he addressed them. He and Ryder had followed them down after the table was cleared off.
A silent question through the raise of a brow, Alfred answered without missing a beat.
"I figured it would be most helpful if I were to help Miss Gordan 'man the computers' as it were, at least for tonight. And Miss Ryder is wonderful company, even if it is mostly just to keep an eye on her."
Robin was the most eager to start his night, already having his helmet on and kicking his motorcycle into gear. In a moment, Black Bat knew that Batman wanted her to stay with his son, keep him safe. She nodded to him, sitting on her own motorcycle, helmet in her hands. She looked up into Bruce's face, his cowl down, when his hand landed on her shoulder.
"Welcome home Casandra."
She blinks, then smiles, a small but true grin. "Good be home."
He then shifts into Batman, no longer any trace of the kind playboy persona he portrays to the media.
"Sorry to be putting you to work so soon; I'm sure you've had a long trip."
"It fine."
And with one final word-
"Stay safe. All of you, stay safe."
-they were gone; off into the night. The lights from two motorcycles bouncing off the tunnel to the left as Black Bat and Robin raced down it, heading towards Crime Alley, while the Batmobile screeches down the widest center tunnel that would take him to the heart of Gotham.
It was going to be a long night.
I just want to take a moment to thank each of you that read this story (and put up with my irregular updating [which, unfortunately, I don't see changing anytime soon]. I am so sorry, but life is really crazy for me right now and some things have been pushed to the wayside-sadly, that mostly means my stories get put on the back burner).