Wait.
Nightwing paused mid-reach, his fingers almost touching the key. "A child, Harvey?" Nightwing asked, grasping at straws. "A little baby? You'd stoop that low?"
Two-Face's voice changed, becoming contrite as the more charismatic half took over. "Yes, it is terribly uncivilised of me. But then, she's not entirely human is she?"
Nightwing watched Starfire. Could she use her powers? They'd said she tried to fly. Perhaps she was waiting for the right moment to strike. Like when Mar'i was safe. If only she'd give him a sign. "You never struck me as xenophobic."
"The coin, dear boy. The coin decided. Not me."
He argued that point. "You offered it the choice. On some level—"
"It's more fun that way. I can never predict the coin, I must offer it wild choices occasionally or it will never flip true."
His eyes drifted to his daughter. "She's just a baby. You wouldn't harm a baby."
"So you choose your girlfriend over an innocent baby?" Two-Face clicked his tongue. "The media won't like that."
Nightwing barked out a short laugh. "They'll crucify you."
"Didn't you know, dear boy," Two-Face said, laughing. "I'm insane." He twittered. "Certified and bona fide bonkers." A tap of his cane. "I'll give you a hint. Batman failed when confronted with this choice, left me with this glorious face, let her die. You'll choose wrong too."
"I'm not him."
"You're more like him than you will ever recognise."
Nightwing swallowed. "Mercy."
Two-Face took several steps into the light. "What?" he asked with tilted head and disbelieving expression.
"Take me instead," he begged. "Leave them both alone. Have some mercy. Please."
Two-Face scratched his chin and the coin glinted. "How intriguing. I never-"
"Ask the coin," he gambled, his fingers itching to throw his stash. If he could just… "Ask it for mercy."
"You're wasting time," Two-Face dismissed, his voice turning grating. "No trick will stop me, I learnt my lesson. You have thirty seconds to get one of them out of there. Choose."
Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds. He could get them both out in that time. He would. They depended on him. He'd save them both or die trying.
Mar'i first. The innocent, the helpless, always first. He grabbed her key, knowing better than to take Starfire's key at the same time less Two-Face take them both from him.
Jamming the key in the lock, he threw a wild, panicked glance at Starfire.
Her eyes glassy as she watched him, that smile still on her face. He got the feeling she knew something he didn't.
"Get out!" he mouthed at her at the same time he twisted the key.
There was a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head. "I love you," she mouthed.
His heart pounded in his chest.
The door hissed at it opened and he jammed a birdarang into the hinge to stop it from closing behind him. At the same time he did that, his action hidden by the over-the-top movement he put into jamming the birdarang, he activated his emergency all-call alarm. He had one made after V'aan and given it to every Titan. An emergency activation alarm they could use which would summon every single available hero.
It was a call to war.
A villain going after family was war and would not be stood for.
The mechanism above Starfire's dome whirred and as Nightwing watched, Starfire gulped in a breath and held it. Her eyes held no fear, only resignation. Acceptance.
He didn't want her to accept. He wanted her to fight. He wanted her to win.
Scrambling across the floor, Nightwing scooped up his baby girl.
Navy green gas filtered down from above Starfire, noxious death and there was nothing he could do.
Nightwing scampered back to the door, curling his baby against his chest to protect her, leaving several bombs on the floor behind him.
Starfire's key was gone. So was Two-Face. But he couldn't worry about that right now.
Dual birdarangs flung at the cage around Starfire, they clipped against the glass and clattered to the ground. Nightwing could see the chips they made and knew it would take every bomb and birdarang he had left to breech it and even then it would not be enough.
Not glass then.
"No!" Hammering on the dome with one fist, the other hand holding Mar'i, he pleaded and begged to whoever would listen. "Star, you gotta break the dome! Find the strength! Please! Two-Face! You have to let her out. She'll die in there! Her baby needs her mother! You can't do this! Please! I'll do anything! Starfire!"
Fumbling for a birdarang, he jammed it in the hinge of the door and tried to pry it open. His heart thudded harder with every moment that the dreaded gas was in the dome with his precious girl.
He couldn't get leverage. The birdarang wouldn't slide.
Her eyes were closed. Was her chest moving? Her leg. Her leg. What if it wasn't the gas at all? What if she was bleeding out?
Oh, god, what should he do, what should he do? His stomach churned with panic, his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. The foreboding feeling he was running out of time increased exponentially with every second and he still couldn't figure out what to do.
"Starfire!" He planted all the explosives he had on the door, around the frame, hoping the blast itself would free her or at least weaken the door so he could break it. Once planted, he bolted away from the door to get Mar'i clear.
The explosion rocked the dome but he didn't hear shattering added into the sound.
Smoke hazed, obscuring his view but he knew it hadn't worked.
He thumped down on his knees, staring. All strength drained from him, replaced with hopelessness.
Mar'i screamed.
The noise must have frightened her. Both arms encircled her, holding her close, the jiggle which had come from late night walks to calm her automatically occurring. But his attention still on the dome. Everything he tried hadn't worked.
It was all his fault. All of this. He should have been home. Should have protected her. Should've been there.
He could have prevented everything if he'd just been there.
He couldn't see anything else, not Mar'i, not the dark figure running toward him. Not the roof which crashed open above him. Not the alarm from the communicator blaring. Nothing but the dome of gas and the still woman inside.
A war cry and the dome shattered.
Nightwing blinked, his eyes refocussing.
Donna flew above where the dome used to be, her expression ferocious. Then she darted down and into the gas and a few moments later, she flew out of it, cradling Starfire in her arms.
"Starfire?"
Landing hard on her knees beside Nightwing, Donna clasped Starfire's chin, then pressed two fingers to Starfire's neck.
Nightwing held his breath. His eyes pricked, his heart wouldn't quieten. Every movement was wound up in Donna.
Her face crumbled, just for a moment, before she lay Starfire flat on the ground. Two fingers under her chin to tilt her head back, then Donna's mouth covered Starfire's.
Nightwing watched Donna perform CPR on Starfire until tears blurred his vision. No amount of blinking could clear them, the fabric of the mask wet so he tore it away to see.
His fingers brushed her forehead. He willed all his strength into her. Begged her to open her eyes.
Batman aided Donna, taking over compressions while Donna acted as Starfire's lungs.
People were appearing. Faceless ghosts to witness.
He couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't feel.
Mar'i continued to cry, her little fists tugging at his shirt.
Someone offered to take the baby, a soft feminine voice but he ignored them. He wasn't releasing her. Not to anyone. He made soothing noises, jiggled. Tried to comfort but he'd forgotten how.
Red hair pooled on the floor. Blood.
A wordless shriek.
Raven.
Raven was here.
Raven would make it better.
She had to.
She had to make it better.
He couldn't see for the tears. He breathed through his mouth, heavy pants, working for every breath.
Black energy. A pressing hand.
A sorrowful face. Resignation and tears as she was gathered up in grief.
The world dissolved.
