Robin jerked open the door to the lighting booth, and threw himself into the controller's chair. The one way glass gave him a view of the whole theater from the rafters at the back of the room. The catwalks stretched out ahead of him, precarious avenues of black metal and wire.
He had had a half formed plan to distract Shriek with the lights when he had bolted up the stairs but of course the power was still out.
Batman suddenly came blasting out of the orchestra pit taking Shriek along for the ride. Robin watched as they hit one of the curtains. They fell, bringing the curtain down with them. In one viscous moment Robin saw Batman's head bounce sharply as he hit the stage. Shriek came down a moment later a few paces to the left, with the curtain atop them both.
Robin leaned forward knuckles white on the edge of the lighting board. At that distance he couldn't tell if Terry was alright. It was too much. He knew Terry sometimes got hurt, but seeing his head hit the ground like that. Robin looked down focusing on carefully taking in one slow breath after another.
Under his hands something thrummed. Robin blinked as a green light came on, somehow he had power. Franticly he started flipping switches and pressing buttons but nothing responded. The fragging thing was doing a systems check after shutting down unexpectedly. Robin groaned, trying to remember why he shouldn't smash the ridiculous contraption.
Movement caught his eye under the curtain and all other problems were forgotten. Grabbing a headset he flipped a pair of switches and ducked out onto the catwalks. Normally he would have been fine strolling along the thin beams, using the single guide rail to lend him speed, rather than prevent the possible 40 foot fall into the seating below. If this were an average day though, he wouldn't be there at all, let alone on the catwalks, staring down at the twitching curtain covering the form of his possibly dead brother.
They're right when they say don't look down, it's never a good idea. Every footfall elicited a range of sounds, each of which threatened to send him falling to his death. That threat was growing stale however after jumping or falling off as many roofs as he had in the past few nights.
The movement under the curtain became more purposeful leading Robin to increase his speed as much as he dared. The catwalks were set up on a grid so that the lights hanging beneath them would be at different angles to the stage. Robin half ran half swung down towards the stage, ducking into the row he hoped was directly above the scene. Under the curtain, the lump of movement reached the edge flipping back the weighted fabric.
One of the only reasons Robin hadn't been completely panicked was because he had convinced himself that it was Batman who was moving under there. Batman would push the curtain aside, showing himself to be injured but victorious. He would tie Shriek up and they would all go home. When Shriek pushed the curtain aside and slowly stood up from his crouch a good portion of Robin's mind shut down. Running down that trail of logic was simply more then he could handle. Instead the more primal reaches of his mind took over.
He wanted to start whacking Shriek, as if he was a bug who wouldn't die no matter how many times you hit it. He even looked like a bug from that hight, his dented armor shining in the red light like a beetles shell. Without thinking Robin had continued walking until he was almost directly over Shriek.
The man had his back to the audience, one arm held strangely, as if it obviously pained him. Reaching forward Shriek lifted the corner of the curtain with his good hand and started tugging it away. Robin crouched as the fabric caught on the other figure beneath it. Shriek took a shambling step, ending up directly under Robin. Without really thinking, Robin reached for the heavy stage light clamped to the safety bar. He detached the safety wires, then with a few quick twists loosened the bolts holding it in place.
The miniature searchlight fell almost gracefully, and in perfect silence for several seconds. Shriek stepped to one side just in time to avoid the improvised weapon. Instead of hitting him straight on the small explosion of glass and metal struck him with a wave of shrapnel and raw noise.
It was like a flip had been switched, and once again things were happening almost too fast to follow. Shriek turned looking up at the ceiling and visibly angry. Robin reacted without thought, reaching for the next light and scrambling through the process of loosing it. There was a second crash as it hit the stage two feet to the left of the first light. Someone started screaming and that seemed to set off the whole room in a panic. The audience scrambled over the seats and each other trying to get as far away as possible.
Shriek seemed to be as single minded as everyone else at that moment. He howled in rage and blasted up into the dark as Robin managed to release his next missile. The sound cannon tore though the catwalk half a dozen feet to Robin's left. The blast ripped apart a section of metal nearly ten feet across, sending the pieces to tangle with the rest of the scaffolding and wire crisscrossing the area. The rippling shockwave knocked Robin sideways causing him to desperately cling to the railing.
Several rows back the spotlights began to come on, shooting beams of multicolored light on what remained of the stage. Robin noted that at some point the actors had managed to get away; good for them. Shriek reeled back bringing up a hand to shield his eyes as he continued to search for the one responsible for trying to crush him with lighting implements.
Robin didn't even consider trying to hide, even though the added light would make him more visible as soon as Shriek's eyes adjusted. In truth he wasn't thinking that far ahead. He grabbed for the next light, going down the line, tossing them like bowling balls in Shrieks direction.Shriek sent another concussive wave of sound skyward. The shockwave blasted Robin off his feet sending him twisting through the air. Somehow he managed to catch hold on one of the few wires still attached to the ceiling, clinging to the thread as a literal lifeline.
That was apparently the last straw. Sections of the ceiling came down, scattering metal and stone in the biggest cacophony yet. Robin was tossed turned and seemingly blasted from every direction. He couldn't have acted even if he had wanted to. He just held onto his lifeline and tried to survive the next few seconds.
When the rumbling stopped an eon later he finally opened his eyes to survey the damage. At first he wasn't sure what he was seeing, there was so much dust, debris and just plain gloom in the air. Even though it'd only been for a minute his eyes had gotten used to the extra light, and now with them gone the room had been once more cast into shadow apart from the light now coming in through the hole in the roof. In the echoing silence that followed his mind finally managed to reboot.
The rush of activity had exhausted him, which wasn't helped by the fact that his body wasn't prepared for things like this. Last night he had fallen off a building only to end up going at it with a man who was the definition of mad. Less then twenty four hours later here he was swinging across rooftops. Nothing from his life before could come remotely close to the raw physical exertion and that was only half of it. The mental stress of the roller-coster experiences were wearing him down. How Terry managed to keep the secret after things like that.
Terry.
Terry had been under the curtain. The same curtain that had been on the stage with Shriek. That was right where he had been dropping lights, and under where the ceiling had collapsed. A new wave of panic completely different from the first rolled over him. Before his fear had been animalistic, primal, this was a cold rational fear that slammed home around his mind like a vault.
He couldn't feel his fingers as he scrambled on his belt for the grapple. He was forced to move slowly because when he moved any faster his hands shook too bad. The rope he was clinging to twisted, spinning him in lazy circles making it hard to aim the fragged thing. He managed to hook the grapple into one of the surviving ceiling beams, slowly lowering himself down to the stage.
It was surreal. A pair of spotlights at the back of the room had survived illuminating patches of the stage with pools of red and blue. Shriek lay under a pile of debris in a pose that should have been dramatic but instead just looked wrong. Robin couldn't decide whether the red curtain looked more like a shag carpet or a pool of blood. The rain coming through the hole in the roof was the only thing that moved.
Batman, where was he, where was Terry?
Robin shifted, sliding forward without disturbing the feeling in the air. He thought he knew where Terry had been, but it looked different now. He stepped through a curtain of rain and looked down at the spot where Batman had fallen.
Ian half dragged the last of the audience members out onto the street where the other officers took charge of them. From the moment Robin had abandoned him he had started directing the back rows of people out of there. Robin had certainly carried through with the distraction. It had been a close thing to get everyone out in time and there were no shortage of injuries because of it. Moving on auto pilot he turned around heading back inside as if to grab more people.
Cops were securing the lobby by now but Ian barely saw them. The theater door was hanging open. Stepping though it he was just in time to see Robin descend, following the path of the rain to the stage. Ian hesitated, coming to a stop.
The truth was, he was already more embroiled in this then any smart cop ever wanted to be. There was a reason that most heroes had super powers, simply put it was hard to survive that life without them. Cops were the ones who walked the edge. Step too far over the line into hero territory and you were likely to end up dead.
Robin stood there stained red by the lights. Ian knew he wasn't wearing his costume but with the lighting and the rain not only could he not tell, but it was like Robin had planned it that way. Shriek lay to one side, near the boy's feet. The dirt on his white armor made it look like it had aged years. The boy slowly stepped forward, the rain giving him a misty aura. Another step, and he was gone.
Ian tried to cry out only to find he had been holding his breath, he choked instead. Sucking in air he forced both his lungs and his mind to get moving. He turned checking all the dark corners, checking row by row that the room was clear. By that point other officers were joining him, weapons at the ready and altogether more professional then he was currently being. He spared a moment to wonder where his own firearm had gotten to. Had he lost it back in the pit outside? Must have been.
A hand landed firmly on his shoulder.
He turned to find Barbra Gordon glaring at him with more intensity then he had known was possible. To hell with Shriek, Commissioner Gordon had just jumped to the top of his "scariest things I've lived to tell about" list. Though to be honest, the night was still young, there was still a chance he wouldn't live to see morning.
"Do you have any idea how many regulations you are breaking just by standing here?" her voice was a tightly controlled whisper promising a very painful death.
"No?"
She didn't speak, using her breathing to control her fury as she decided his fate. Her eyes piled him apart layer by layer, only to stop. She grabbed ahold of his chin yanking him down to her level and studying his eyes.
"Damn it Hawk, when were you injured? You pupils are different sizes, you probably have a concussion. Have you even bothered to get yourself checked out?"
"Ummm"
She threw her hands up. "Rookies, I swear, you'll all drive me mad, the lot of you, if the bad guys don't put me in the ground first." she stabbed a finger at his chest. "You," and then down at the nearest of the surviving theater seats. "Sit! The next time you move better be by a doctor's order, or I swear I will have your badge."
He did as told.
It was actually the first time he had really had a chance to breath since Shriek had blasted his way up out of the ground. He leaned back assessing himself, and realized that she was right. He hurt. The adrenalin was wearing off, and his head was starting to pound. He didn't remember getting injured, but at some point something must have happened.
Around him people moved, clearing rubble from the walkways, setting up portable spotlights, trying to get the beam off of Shriek. He closed his eyes,eyes; a headache was striking lightning behind them. People were talking but half the sounds didn't seem to make any sense.
It was over. The good guys had won, the people were safe and they'd probably be doing the paperwork for the next two weeks. Someone had hooked a Firefly pulse charge to Shrieks suit, so he wouldn't be causing any more problems, even if he wasn't still trapped under half the ceiling. Ian's fellow cops didn't seem to be in any hurry to dig the villain out.
One of the medics came over at some point, kneeling down next to him. He asked all the normal questions, then shone some lights and checked some readings. Ian drifted. The medic finally proclaimed that he had a minor concussion and should take the next few days off. If anything worsened or if his symptoms increased and so on and and so on.
Heath was the one who pulled him out of it. Ian's partner came barreling down the isleaisle without regards for the scene or the established protocol. "Ian, hay Hawk. God man, are you alright? When you ran in here I would have bet you were a dead man."
"I have a concussion and the commissioner personally ordered me not to move, so obviously I am quite dead." It came out in a subtly calm tone, most likely due to his growing exhaustion. Heath let out a bark of laughter that drilled it's self into Ian's brain with vicious pleasure.
"You know I can't decide if you have the best luck in the world or the worst. You may still be alive but you've got Gordon's attention now."
"Heath,"
"I mean, talk about being put on the spot."
"Heath, shut up a minute."
Their relationship mostly consisted of Heath talking and Ian pretending to listen. Ian was only that blunt when it was important. He shut up.
"What I need right now is as much peace and quiet as is can get. I'm going to watch them load Shriek into the crazy wagon, then go home and use all those sick days I have saved up. If you want to help me out you can go do my paperwork so it won't pile up while I'm gone."
"That supposed to be funny? Cause if so you picked a strange time to start growing a sense of humor."
Ian shook his head. "I've only had about two hours sleep in the last 48." his head was in his hands, thumbs rubbing at his temples. Heath finally seemed to get it. He clapped Ian on the shoulder as he turned to go.
"Don't let it break you."
Ian nodded at the familiar saying. Gotham cops saw the worst of the worst. If you let it get to you, you were done. End of story.
Robin didn't hesitate when he saw the trap door. It was less than two feet from where Terry had fallen and half covered by the curtain. Terry must have escaped into the space beneath the stage. There was no sign of him anywhere else. Robin stepped forward and let himself fall.
He hit the bottom before the grapple could slow his decent. The six foot drop provided just enough distance to make the landing a hard one. His feet hit the ground and his knees buckled under him landing him on his back with the wind knocked from his lungs. Ironically it was the hardest landing he had taken that night while the distance was by far the smallest. He tried to groan but couldn't get enough air to manage it.
He lay in the darkness, rubble cutting into his back, listening to the rain tapping on the stage above him. The mask stopped any tears that threatened to fall. The world flickered out of focus like a badly tuned set. Static danced around him. As his breath came back he realized that the thumping beat of the city only sounded so augmented because his heart was trying to go twice as fast as normal, and it was pounding in his ears. Robin tried to force control over his body, willing his heart to beat more evenly. He failed miserably but in the time it had taken to try, the edges of his vision became less fuzzy.
Sitting up slowly, Robin made sure everything still worked, both his tech and his limbs. The slowly blinking red light in his peripheral vision quickly distracted him from the task.
It was Terry.
Batman lay in a heap. Small sections of ruble from the ceiling had made it through the trap door, littered around the hero like fallen leaves. The suit had been damaged across the chest and arms. Pieces of red circuitry pulsed in a subtle illusion of arterial blood.
Robin forgot about his own pain and scrambled to his brother's side. Terry was unconscious but breathing. The suit had done its job, as far as Robin could tell, there were no broken bones or anything else major. Robin considered trying to wake him up, but if there were injuries he couldn't see, it could be bad. He gently lifted Terry's head trying to get him laid out flat. That was when he heard it: static from Batman's cowl.
That was it. All that time Robin had been thinking as if he was on his own, just him and Batman with a little help from the police, but there was someone else as well: Mr Wayne. He returned his earpiece to the bat frequency and immediately heard Wayne on the other end. Since he didn't have a mike Robin leaned over his brother and pitched his voice so the mikes in the Batsuit would pick up his voice.
"Cave, it's Robin, Batman's hurt. I don't know what to do."
Wayne cut him off before he could say anything else. "Calm down. What is your situation?"
Robin took a deep breath."Okay, okay, Batman and me are down under the stage. He's hurt, I don't know how bad it is, but I don't want to wake him up, just in case."
"What else Matt? Think, I need the full situation. Where's Shriek, who else is there? Details are important."
"I think, Shriek is still up on the stage. He brought the ceiling down on top of them, but I don't think he's dead. He looked unconscious, but I don't think he was hurt too bad. The cops are there now, I can hear them. It sounds like they're securing the area. I don't think they've noticed the trap door yet." There was a tremor in his voice towards the end.
"I understand. Now listen to me Matt, you're going to bring Terry back here. Until you are both safe back in the cave I want you to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?" Mr. Wayne's voice was rock solid. Robin sagged, not tired like before but relieved. He knew Wayne would take control of the situation, guiding him back to where things made sense.
"Right, what do I do?"
Gordon was there when Shriek regained consciousness. It wasn't pretty. They had already secured his hands,hands; otherwise the three officers attending him would've ended up in the hospital, if not the morgue. Barbara was more than a little tempted to give the order to knock him out again. They had disabled all of the enhancements in his suit, but even without the superstrength he was a formidable opponent.
With his arms encased to the elbow in high-tech restraints, and a discipline caller already fitted around his neck he was led outside by no less than eight handpicked officers. Barbara watched the proceedings from a shadowed corner. There was something about this whole situation. Desperation she could understand, and this was definitely desperate, but there was more to it. Something bigger was going on. That Robin character, and Batman whoever he was, were involved somehow, but again there was more to it than that.
She spent several minutes just watching the cleanup that was taking place around her. It took her a while to isolate what was wrong with the situation, because in truth the situation wasn't wrong, it was just unfinished. As things went, this had been easy. The power outage should have caused a lot more damage. They shouldn't have gotten away with so few casualties. In fact, the only people who would actually died had gone down in the first wave, when the street collapsed. In any other city luck would've been a good enough reason, but this was Gotham. Here, if something looks like luck it was someone pulling your strings.
Ian Hawk stumbled out of the theater after Shriek's precession. Somehow the rookie had managed to do all the wrong things tonight and still hadn't ended up dead. That kind of luck wasn't good for the health. Young men like that already thought they were immortal. Hawk had potential, but Gordon had seen a lot of cops with potential over the years. Hopefully her earlier words had made it clear to him that situations like these are nothing to be taken lightly.
Hawk slid into the last car in Shriek's convoy, she hoped that that meant he was going to clock out. She had more things to worry about than one rookie biting off more than he could chew.
Shriek allowed himself to be guided to his transport with only token resistance. He seemed distracted. His face was turned back towards the theater, though of course his eyes couldn't be seen behind that damn mask of his. Once they got back to the station it would give her no small amount of pleasure to strip it from him and lock it up in evidence for the next 50 years.
Barbara considered joining the convoy herself,herself; it was definitely a high priority. Unfortunately there was just so much cleanup that would have to be done here. The whole Plaza was already cordoned off and statements had to be taken from everyone who'd been present for anything.
That wasn't really why she was doing it though.
This whole situation had been triggered by something. Shriek may have been crazy but he wasn't an idiot. Even after they had traced the audio file back to this area there had still been a reasonable chance that he would've gotten away. Something had forced his hand. When he should've been hiding he blasted his way into the open, making an obvious target of himself. Then, Instead of running he had holed himself up when he knew that he would shortly be completely surrounded. None of it, the whole fragging mess, made no sense. Barbara had been a cop, and more, for long enough to know when she wasn't seeing the whole picture.
White noise built into crescendo at the back of her skull. She couldn't feel her legs as the world toppled, sliding out from under her at a strange angle. The ground and sky switched places. Her senses were flooded, overstimulated by imaginary sensations, a crackling static that somehow managed to overlay the sinister laughter, the gunshots.
Familiar white clad forms shimmered into existence at some point later, backlit by the red Gotham sky. Her officers, her people, doing familiar medical type things. It was the second time in as many days, only this time she wasn't sitting in the back of a med-van. Cold, wet, uneven stone pressed against her back, leaving the rain to pin her to the ground with each drop.
She couldn't move, couldn't even try to move. All of her thoughts were jumbled up together in a sludge that didn't make any sense. Then something cold and sharp pressed into the crook of her elbow and the world started to melt. A moment later the world had washed away, save for the fading sound of rain.
Ok people I have a good reason this is coming so late, no seriously, I got a job. As it stands now I will be working full time which will cut down on writing a bit. Chapters may not come as often. In addition i'm working on a few other stories in the background. Partners is still my priority but other things will pop up in between chapters.
On that note I've started my Definition series. It's a collection of short stories and one shots named after and inspired by the 8 words in the Barman Beyond opening. All of them are set in the same universe as Partners. The first one, Power, has already been posted. Apathy will be coming next as soon as I get it back from my beta.
Thank you to kitsune firefox, jimmy candlestick, lenorathetrekkie, irezel, Harm marie, V and lacewing for reviewing.