Aside from briefly elaborating on the respective confrontations with the Joker and Bane, the flight back to the cave was wordless. Ozpin guessed that his newfound pupil was brooding over their firsthand experience with that man, though "man" wasn't quite accurate. No ordinary person could've caused such destruction, such maddening horror. Even now, he could swear he was hearing Joker's laughter even over the roar of the Batwing's engines.

It should've been refreshing when they finally arrived at the cave's landing pad and dropped down from the vehicle, but if anything, Batman seemed to grow even more tense. His body was almost on autopilot as he walked absentmindedly towards the computer. Then, just as Oz made to tap him just to snap the man out of his thoughts, he finally just knelt down on the metal, a melancholy look clearly etched on his face even with the cowl.

And painfully familiar to Ozma.

He therefore calmly stood next to the grieving young man, some measure of an idea of what he was currently thinking. For this sort of pain, there was no easy way to comfort him. Especially since Ozpin was just a new acquaintance he was on somewhat amicable terms with. All he could really do was show his respect. How many times… How many times have I seen this type of grieving? How many times have I felt it? And how many more times will I have to see or feel it?

But a few seconds later, Batman pushed himself back up and continued towards his equipment, little hesitance in his steps now. A productive soul, I suppose, Ozpin thought with a bitter smile before rallying himself. He asked, "Do you mind if I access your databanks, Batman? There's simply something I want to check." The teacher held his breath; trust had been forged between them, but Batman was still a paranoid fellow at the best of times, and right now, mentally exhausted. He could always pry for what Oz was looking for or just say no…

But the only answer was a tired, "By all means." He didn't even turn back but simply began to fiddle with some equipment.

Ozpin let out a sigh in relief and quickly sat down in front of the many screens. He pulled up the database for the city's registered populace and activated a search engine, typing in average height for a grown trained woman, dark red hair, preference for white and red clothing, and most tellingly, silver eyes. After a moment's thought, the professor added "name related to 'Summer' and 'Rose'"; it could be that she was currently under an alias.

He couldn't keep the fond smile off his lips as he hit the "enter" key, memories of a bright, spirited, slightly mischievous student flowing like a steady stream. She always brightened the room she was in, giving everyone a sense of hope. Myself included. Hope that tomorrow would be better, hope that things would turn out alright, hope that the Grimm would eventually be no more.

If Qrow's stories are true, her daughter is so much like her it's almost startling. I sincerely hope I can meet this Ruby Rose one day. Maybe if I find Summer here, I can bring her back to Remnant, to Patch. That would be a nice change, raising spirits with something true instead of false hopes.

He was picturing a jubilant Taiyang and Qrow presenting their long-lost team leader to her daughters when-

the computer chimed and a black box with the words, "NO MATCHES FOUND" appeared on the main screen.

Ozpin's elation immediately plummeted at the blunt words, but he rallied himself to widen the search. So Summer hadn't been sent to Gotham, then maybe she was somewhere else on Earth, perhaps even still close by. In Bludhaven or Coast City or Metropolis, those weren't far away-

But even as he allowed the database to include the entire country, still the same cold answer. For a second, panicked anger flashed through him, an urge to break the keyboard, the screens, this entire blasted cavern, then charge out and track Summer down somehow. He raised a fist to slam down on the arm of the chair, but a sense of rawness caused him to drop it. Finally, weariness washed over the old man, and he slumped back in his chair. With numb fingers, he slowly closed the many windows and ended the search program. Of course she wasn't on Earth. It had all been just a silly, almost childish wish on his part. And it wasn't the first time someone dear to him had disappeared, bad things just happen sometimes. He really shouldn't feel so broken now.

So why did he?

He hadn't felt so wounded since—

You can't.

He couldn't hide the flinch.

"Master Ozpin?" A concerned voice made him look up; there stood Alfred, service tray in one hand, cup of hot chocolate in the other, compassionate worry on his wrinkled face. "Is everything alright? Pardon my curiosity, but you seem rather… shaken."

With centuries-old practice, the headmaster recomposed himself, wiping away the tears that had gathered under his spectacles. "It's nothing, Alfred, I assure you. I was merely looking a few things up, and some saddening memories intruded." As he took the cup and motioned for the butler to set the tray down on a separate table, a false laugh escaped his lips. "I suppose I'm more nostalgic than is good for my health."

The concern didn't leave Alfred's eyes, but he seemed to accept the answer. "That is not an affliction only you need to contend with, sir. These days, I have such moments as well." Despite his grief, Oz felt a flash of interest appear as the elder man grasped the tray's lid. When he saw it, he explained, "I have had a rather exciting life, though not quite like what those students you help teach would encounter or even Master Bruce. Hardly as interesting, either. Those days are long behind me, but they have left their marks, for good or ill."

Ozpin gave a melancholy smile of empathetic understanding at that.

"Now then, I believe you promised me you would sample my Christmas ham."

With that, he raised the lid, releasing a succulent odor into the air that managed to lift Ozpin's weary spirit, if only by a miniscule margin. The meal was both aesthetically pleasing and quite appetizing, prompting him to reply, "Well, I do try my best to keep my promises."

"For which I am quite grateful for." The thanks for helping to save Batman's life was left unsaid, but still prevalent. Ozpin managed to make his smile appear a little more genuine, then made for the silverware. He savored the delightfully soft meat with its blend of light spicing, not much, but enough to enhance the flavor. The vegetables and gravy were of an equal level, and coupled with the exhaustion from non-stop fighting, he enjoyed every bite.

And it did help prop up his devastated spirit a little bit. "This is a work of art, Alfred. Thank you." He praised after a brief pause to sip some hot chocolate. Always good for a tiring night.

Appearing pleased with Ozpin's appetite for his cooking, the tuxedoed man then walked towards the nearby trolley and brought a second tray on it to Batman, who was now hunched over the computer. "Sir," he began, "it might be a bit anticlimactic, but I hoped you might finally be ready to celebrate Christmas Eve. Now that the Joker is behind bars."

The vigilante didn't turn away from his work. "Bane is still out there. I've got to locate the signal from the tracker I placed on him."

Alfred put down the tray and removed its lid. "Even a hero must eat, sir. Your newest teacher knows this." He gestured towards Ozpin, who had already finished his portion. The spectacled man was now currently politely wiping his mouth and keeping his attention elsewhere to give the pair a semblance of privacy.

But that didn't placate Batman at all. "If you hadn't called the police, he'd already be in custody." That's debatable. Bane's reinforcements would've likely joined the battle, and Bane may've been injured, but he was still in fighting condition. Not to mention either he or Joker could've still had a few tricks left.

Heedless of the hurt expression Alfred wore, the cave's master increased the volume of the desk's police scanner. "Dispatch 4-7, the Ellsworth building. Confirmed. Building was under construction. Appears to have been empty. No sign of any casualties."

"You know, I made a promise of my own." Alfred's voice was soft while more reports came in. "To your parents."

Oz thought he noticed a light release of the tension in Batman's posture, but he simply turned around and said, "Not now, Alfred."

"What's the story back at the precinct?"

"Place's evac'd. Found bombs under the foundation. Same kind they found at the Royal-" Batman turned another knob, then a new voice said, "-some kinda hopped-up freak. Must've been four-hundred pounds of muscle. Took six cops to gun that bastard down." He exchanged a look with Ozpin; it could've happened.

"Yeah, I saw the body in the morgue. Couldn't believe it." Batman rose to his full height. "Sounds like this could be Bane or one of his men. If we hurry to the GCPD morgue…"

"We can inspect the body and possibly an autopsy report." Ozpin finished, mentally shaking himself. Right then, old man. You've already become this invested in cleaning up this city, no sense in just walking away now.

"Well," Alfred chimed in resignedly, "before you leave, I've run some tests on the compound you found at the Steel Mill. Looks like a match for your 'globular projectile of non-lethal restraint'."

"That 'glue grenade' you both spoke of earlier?"

"Indeed. The resin has finished curing. It's at your workbench, Master Bruce." Batman turned around and strode for the stairs leading downwards, barely heeding his ally's next words. "Of course, I'd recommend testing it here in the lab before you go, but I'm sure you won't listen to me. You never do."

A slight pang of guilt welled up in Ozpin as he followed; he probably hadn't done Alfred any favors by encouraging these trips out. He certainly didn't dissuade Summer Rose back in her time, feeding the fire of her simple soul.

Nevertheless, Batman had picked up two small plastic capsules and went on to pass him one. A relatively simple design, with tiny pellets containing liquid affixed to the top. As they attached them to their respective belts, the butler's voice called down, "So I take it you won't be testing it, then?"

"It's called field testing, Alfred." Batman replied as he stormed up the steps. "And it's been working fine for me so far." Another pang. For a moment a visage of a petite woman with a white cape replaced the tall man in an armored black suit. And he noted a woman in black and red took the place of Alfred. Ozpin had once arrived on the tail end of a similar argument between Summer and her most unruly teammate.

Maybe I'm being too lenient with him, this is starting to be reckless. Ozpin may've said his thoughts to keep peace between the two, but his heart wasn't really into it. His body was on autopilot. The lack of results with Summer weighed heavy on him, no less because her being gone was most likely his fault.

What good was his teaching methods really doing? Am I going to kill Batman like I killed her?

But the other senior in the cave wasn't so easily deterred. "Master Bruce, stop." Batman simply typed in the coordinates into his gauntlet as the Batwing began to hover. "Master Bruce." He caught up with them and pushed his ward by the shoulder, forcing him to face him. "BRUCE!" The shout also had the side effect of snapping Oz out of his thoughts.

Batman just glared and made to keep walking, only for a green-suited arm to bar his path. "What are you-" Ozpin only gave him a stern look and motioned with his head towards Alfred. He was truly fond of the butler, and the least he deserved for the loyalty shown thus far was the right to say his piece.

Alfred briefly flashed him a look of gratitude, then stared down Batman. "I will not in good conscience allow you to go! You're outmatched by these assassins and-"

"I'm what?" Batman stepped closer.

Alfred was resolute, though. "And you- you're not some hardened vigilante or master Huntsman, graduated from a special academy! You're a young man with a trust fund and too much anger." He briefly looked down, then up again. "If these people are truly so dangerous, then let the proper authorities handle them, or someone like Ozpin, someone who stands against such evil on a regular basis. You are in over your head and I-" his eyes softened a bit, "…I don't want this to be your end."

Batman brushed past them. "I'm not putting Gotham's fate in the hands of some corrupt jokes for policemen or a man who doesn't even belong here." Harsh, but fair, Ozpin admitted before Bruce stopped on his way to the Batwing. "Alfred, who do you see when you look at me? The boy whose shoes you used to tie every morning," the two men turned to face each other, Ozpin silently watching between them, "the teenager you drove to his first date?" The younger man walked closer. "While you are here every night, I am out there," he pointed to the side, "the only thing between the innocent and the predatory."

"You may be, but-"

"No," Bruce cut him off, "not 'may be,' I am. When the mugger or thief stops to think twice, that is fear. That is what I am. That is why they hired assassins, because I am the reason criminals breathe easier when the sun rises." Whatever Ozpin might've said to stop this argument stopped in his throat as he heard the words, the utter conviction in Batman's tone. This wasn't just some wounded boy, lashing out at the world for taking what he had loved. This was someone who genuinely wanted to make his home better, who wanted to protect others from the same tragedy which had befallen him. He didn't fully agree with using fear as his weapon, but the Huntsman couldn't deny being impressed with the willpower he saw before him.

Another painful flash of Summer Rose, resolute with every fiber of her small frame, entered his mind.

And Batman wasn't done. "So no, Alfred, I am not in over my head. And I won't force Ozpin to finish the job I started just so I can hide safely away in my cozy mansion." He spun around and headed for the cockpit's chair. "Tonight will not be my end." He tilted his head back, a cold scowl on his face. "But it will be theirs!"

Alfred hung his head in defeat; it had clearly cost him a great deal of energy to even speak like that to his master, and apparently for nothing. Oz walked closer with a sympathetic expression, waiting as he slowly looked up again. "Forgive me, Master Ozpin, it's true I have no right to ask this of you after everything you've already done, but-"

A raised palm stopped him. "You could technically argue a delightful meal is good enough for me to continue my support," Ozpin began with some humor that thankfully didn't seem too hollow, if the quirking of Alfred's lips was any indication. "But moreover, I have taught and watched many students over the course of my life, and sadly, Alfred, I have made more mistakes than any man, woman, or child on my planet. And possibly this one, as well." Concern twinkled in his eyes, but the ancient fallen hero quickly continued. "Among them is failing those students who fell in their duties as Huntsmen.

His gaze hardened again. "But I swear to you, I will do everything I can to ensure Bruce Wayne won't see his end tonight." His heart still ached, but he pushed down the pain. There was still work to do. I may've failed you, Summer Rose, but I won't fail these two.

Alfred let out a tired sigh despite his usual unflappable manner, but he gave a grateful nod and a half-smile. "Well at the very least, I know he's not alone out there. Thank you, Ozpin."

The Huntsman nodded and made for his partner who hadn't yet boarded the plane but turned back to deliver one final message. "Never tell yourself you haven't done enough. Trust me, he needs you." Ozma would've lost his humanity long ago and ended up no better than Salem if it hadn't been for at least one soul in every life that helped him.

Batman said nothing as they entered the cockpit, but he did seem at least slightly guilty. Then again, considering the one he'd argued with was the closest thing to a father figure he had left. He stared straight ahead while piloting the plane out towards Gotham.

Diving through the clouds of snow did give a certain feeling of tranquility: on one hand, your entire body is tense because it knows that if you were to hit the ground from this height, you stand a very good chance of dying, even with armor or Aura. On the other hand, there is also a sense of release, no other forces influencing you, little noise other than the winds whistling in your ear, only the fall down. Between these two, there is calm.

Sadly, it also meant that Ozpin had plenty of time to reflect on this night's events, as well as his own regrets. Much as he appreciated helping Batman in his exploits, his recent search had opened the floodgates of guilt: The truth of the matter was, Summer Rose's disappearance weighed heavily on him, all the more because it was so recent. And frankly he wished to see what her potential would bring forth. Sentimental old fool that he was, she had become like a daughter to him and he'd wanted to see her thrive.

She had always been so bright, so full of magnetic energy as a Huntress and a friend, making her the leader of Team STRQ was only the logical choice. But her greatest strength was also her greatest flaw: her compassion. No matter what, Summer simply couldn't look away when someone else needed help. She'd stop in the middle of a Grimm battle to pull a little boy out of harm's way, she lingered after missions were officially completed to provide aid to people in different ways… Just providing small acts of kindness and decency.

He recalled that time when Team STRQ had temporarily split off from each other a few years before Taiyang and Raven had their child. Summer had been swindled of all her money helping a vagabond posing as a beggar. Raven and even Qrow had been irate at her helpful nature putting her in such a position, Taiyang was irate on Summer's behalf; one thing led to another and… It was months before they'd speak to each other. Naturally, their leader was the one to bring the team back together again through her natural charisma.

Over the years, however, it became clear the fire that he'd started in her soul had blazed perhaps a bit too strongly. Summer continually stated they needed to be more proactive against Salem. Ozpin had tried counseling patience, explaining that his oldest enemy wasn't someone you could simply charge against with a mighty army. For all the good that had done, Summer Rose was determined, eager and hopeful to live up to the ideal of making a better world. For a split-second, he had almost confessed to her that he didn't know how to rid the world of Salem. The words had practically been on his tongue.

But then, old habits reasserted themselves, and he appealed to something he was sure would give her pause: her family. Summer had given birth to a little girl with Taiyang and was also lovingly raising another, Raven's.

Despite the claims of the aforementioned woman before her departure, Summer was not his weapon to use against Salem. She represented hope for a better future of humanity and was to be cherished and guided, not needlessly thrown away in a fool's gambit. Her Silver Eyes were merely a special means of lighting the way to that future. He doubted they would have an effect on Salem, in any case, and the risks posed to the leader of Team STRQ for such an undertaking was too great for him to deem acceptable.

If Summer wished to fight the good fight, then so be it, but having her confront Salem in her home territory was a nonstarter.

Unfortunately, Summer didn't agree. Quite the opposite, if anything, her family only spurred her to push for action even harder. A few years later, the old teacher wasn't sure what had motivated him more to talk her down from trying to confront Salem and end her, cold logic that it likely wouldn't be enough against someone as powerful and evil as her, or that he simply couldn't bear a family losing its mother. Especially one of the students he was fortunate or unfortunate enough to consider was like a daughter to him, and he a father to her. Either way, it worked, and the Silver-Eyed woman relented.

Or so he had thought. A week later, Tai and Qrow had burst into his office in a panicked frenzy, asking him if he knew where Summer was. The look in their eyes when he truthfully answered in the negative was something he'd seen far too often before. Another soul extinguished, for a war that seemed to have no favorable end.

He'd wondered if telling her outright of the dark secret behind Salem would have given her reason to give up. Not hardly, if anything she would have likely been more compelled to go on with the same result.

She was prepared to give everything…And it likely amounted to nothing…As it always had where Salem was concerned. Oh, Summer, please forgive me…

Desperately attempting to stave off falling into that familiar pit of despair, he reminded himself of the current situation: Gotham City. The stakes were lower, and though less powerful, the allies he'd made were no less remarkable. He looked to the young man beside him, but his mind would not give him peace. Summer's form once again replaced Batman's. "I trust you both realize you can't just waltz into the GCPD after everything that's happened there tonight," Alfred broke the silence of their freefall.

Ozpin blinked away the mist gathering in his eyes; yes, they were still descending. With all the thoughts in his head, he'd have probably splatted against the pavement and only realized it in his next reincarnation. As he and Batman grappled to stop the dive without trouble, the latter replied, "I know we can't do that. We'll have to find a way in that will avoid detection."

"We've already seen a good portion of the building during our last visit there. It's not impossible." They swung from one building for Batman to glide and Ozpin to run across a rooftop.

"Indeed." Alfred agreed before giving a tired sigh. "Look, I'm… sorry, Master Bruce, about what I said before you left. I hope you understand it's just because-"

"It's okay," the young man said in a gentle tone, "I understand." And he does. Alfred's the last remnant of the family this boy once had. He's probably unsure himself what to completely think of the butler, but the bond is strong between them.

I just hope Batman doesn't ignore this bond; it'd be like throwing- a sudden beeping over the commlink disrupted his thoughts even as he came to a slightly slippery stop on a watertower. "Alfred, is something the matter?"

"Possibly, sirs." Was the response. A second later, Alfred reported, "I'm receiving reports about a disturbance nearby. I'm sending the coordinates to your map. You may wish to investigate." A ping, and Batman had brought up a holographic map over his gauntlet.

"They'll most likely take longer to process the body found," Ozpin suggested, "if for no other reason than the paperwork. And besides Bane, there are still two more assassins."

"Deadshot and Firefly." The crime fighter gazed at the highlighted point, then nodded. "We ought to have some time for this disturbance. Let's make it quick." The point was on the other side of the Pioneer Bridge, but with the Batwing, they leaped out close by in minutes.

The disturbance had been reports of something bright appearing atop a building close to Sheldon Park. As they grappled themselves up the railing one by one, it turned out to be an ignited flare lying in the snow. Ozpin prodded it with his cane, tilting his head. "Definitely meant to attract attention, but for us or…?"

Batman swept his vision over the area, his fists tight. "Could be a-" A bright light flared out over them as a helicopter with GCPD colors swept into view. "Trap." He grunted out.

"This is the police," a voice rang out from the chopper. "If you fail to comply, we have been authorized to use deadly force." But just as Ozpin was fingering a smoke pellet, a new noise rang out just over the rotors, then the copter suddenly lurched. "What the hell?! Dispatch, Air 1 is hit! Repeat, I'm going down!" The transport spun out of control, its tail smashing through the large neon sign mounted on the building, before crashing with a final "Mayday!" and a burst of flame.

Batman had leaped off the ledge and was gliding down. "I need to look for survivors," he called back. "You keep an eye out."

"On it." Oz pulled up his goggles and began to scan the area, first the roof they were on. No one else was present. The only disturbance was from the tail rotor's wreckage laying on the other side of the balcony. As for the other buildings, he couldn't detect any people present. Not even windows were open despite the crash. I suppose residents here are used to explosions. That is… disturbing. "No signs of an assassin close by." He reported.

The response was cold with anger. "And no survivors by the copter. Someone will pay for this. We need to set up a crime scene to find out who." A few seconds, then their scanners synced as a digital rewind of the crash began. "The helicopter was spinning out of control. The pilot was killed on impact, not from the gunshot we heard. But what caused him to lose control?"

"Let's see what I can find out up here." The professor focused on the sign's twisted remains, his goggles reconstructing the first impact. "The helicopter's tail rotor was severed when its fuselage hit the building," he walked to the other side and stopped before the still-smoldering rotor to analyze it as the digital piece of metal bounced backwards across its snow-covered surface and was still attached, only for something to strike it, "and that happened due to a high-powered round shattering its parts. Give me a second to check for ballistics."

A red line led over their imagery from where the bullet had struck the copter's tail to a building opposite from Ozpin's position. He drew himself over there with his grapnel while Batman climbed up, the two meeting in front of another puzzle: a dead officer lying amid the snow sniper rifle right next to him. "This doesn't add up," Batman pondered. "This man's a member of SWAT. So why did he fire on a police helicopter?"

Ozpin kneeled down to check the weapon. After a moment, he said. "I don't think he did. The magazine is still full, no sign of an empty cartridge or gunpowder residue on the muzzle. The officer was likely posted to keep his gun trained on us while the copter would move in." As he pulled himself up, his brown eyes caught a large indent on the door house next to them. The Huntsman scanned it, his eyes widening a bit. "Am I finally losing my mind, or…?"

"No, I see it, too." Batman agreed, his tone betraying a hint of surprise. "That's a fresh bullet mark." Detective Vision reconstructed the scene to show what had (unbelievably) happened. "Like you said, Ozpin, this man really didn't fire at the helicopter, he was aiming at us. The ballistics trace indicates this officer was killed by a ricochet from the same round that took down the chopper." He followed the round's trail from the open space to far off into the distance. "There's only one person capable of a shot like this."

"Deadshot." Ozpin was honestly impressed. Even with accuracy-enhancing Semblances, I've only met maybe five or six marksmen throughout Remnant's history that could pull off such a feat. And with only one shot.

Tch, all of the assassins Joker summoned are serious threats, that's for sure. …Well, aside from the late Electrocutioner, but why speak ill of the dead?

"The trajectory analysis will lead us to Deadshot's firing position." Batman finished as he began to break into a run. Oz's voice stopped him.

"Let's not use a headfirst approach against a sniper who can ricochet high-powered rounds across streets." A conceding grunt, then they split up to follow the trail from opposite sides. Bigger group, bigger target. The trail hovered at roughly a man's height atop an antenna tower with vantage point. That must be where the shot originated.

They arrived at roughly the same time, Ozpin crouching to pick up a quite large rifle shell. Batman nodded. "Just as we suspected. The shell casing matches others in the criminal database. And they're all linked to Deadshot, but his trail ends here."

"Does it?" Ozpin asked, fingering the casing. No experienced assassin would be sloppy enough to leave behind evidence. He held it up so they could both look at the side. "Not unless he wants us to know something. Look at these numbers engraved here."

"451,326…" Batman read aloud, sequencer already in hand. "It looks like a radio frequency." He activated his device and set found the right frequency with little trouble (they had been shutting down Enigma's operations throughout the other quests almost off-handedly; aside from the man's taunts, he wasn't quite as brilliant or interesting as he thought of himself).

An arrogant voice spoke as a recording, "Hello, Batman. I see you and your new partner decoded my message. Well done. But I'm afraid playtime's over. Come meet me at the bank so I can put a single bullet through both of you and collect my prize. Oh, and in case either of you are thinking of backing out, I've got a hostage and a very. Itchy. Trigger finger."

The message cut off, but they figured Deadshot wasn't bluffing. Luckily, Gotham Merchants bank hadn't changed since their first (revolting) encounter with the Joker. Right down to the hole in the back. Though to be fair, that would likely take a day or two to be properly patched up. Even for professionals.

Regardless, the duo made their way unimpeded to the bank's main hall. Inside, ordinary thugs patrolled the walkways while Lawton himself was barking orders. "Get back to work!"

"I'll take care of it." The laser sight of the wrist-mounted gun bouncing dangerously across the room may've had some small part in that one's hurried response. Especially since its owner could likely make that shot on purpose. We have to close the distance between us and him. A long-range battle is suicide. I would rather not test my Aura capability against his shots.

The first move was simple: Ozpin dropped down and disabled a goon with a bit more noise than usual, drawing Deadshot's attention. The gunman therefore failed to notice Batman sneaking up behind him until he was pounded into the floor. By the time he was back on his feet, both had hidden away.

Next, Batman wrapped another in a chokehold to keep him from interfering, then tossed a batarang around the corner. Deadshot saw it coming and shot it to pieces before the projectile could come even close, but left himself open to Oz's grappling hook latching onto him and pulling him over the railing. He jumped upright and bared both guns, but no targets.

At this point, Lawton was definitely more cautious. "You know, Batman," he taunted, the laser sight of his gun sweeping across the room, "I don't know what I'm more excited about, killing you or telling people how I did it." An obvious attempt at baiting them.

Batman ignored it in favor of readying his line launcher atop a gargoyle and waiting until the hitman passed a fire extinguisher. Then a cable suddenly attached to him that reeled in the red object and slammed it against him, foam leaking everywhere. Another takedown, and he was gone again.

Deadshot fired twice but hit no one. "Hey, idiots!" he called out. "Help me with this." But only two answered; the rest had been silently neutralized with no one the wiser. Their leder almost cursed their incompetence before suddenly blasting apart another canister speeding for him. "Can't trick me the same way twice, Ba-"

A green shape suddenly slammed into him from the side. Two more hits, then it evaded a burst of gunfire and was gone.

Ozpin crouched down behind a wall, listening to the assassin letting loose a round of expletives perhaps more devastating than his guns. Like Batman said, he's reckless. Not used to his targets giving him a hard time. This is usually when someone like Mr. Lawton will grow desperate. Sure enough, Deadshot jumped over the railing and ran straight for the terrified bound hostage underneath. "Alright, heroes," he sneered, priming a gun, "let's see how you deal with this!"

Ozpin flipped over to join him on the same level, prompting Deadshot to fire both weapons. The first round was aimed straight at him, which he deflected with The Long Memory, but the second bounced off the right wall, the ground, and up towards his chin. The headmaster's Aura flashed as the bullet struck, but it wasn't too damaging. Still, a hell of a marksman. As Ozpin staggered backwards a bit, Deadshot had taken the opportunity to step behind his captive, one gun trained on him, the other at the Huntsman's green waistcoat.

Still, Ozpin allowed himself a smile. "Checkmate."

Batman sprang up from under the floor panels and swiftly broke both of the sniper's arms, Deadshot howling in pain. He'd snuck over while Lawton had been distracted with his partner, focused on keeping the hostage safe. The remaining goons dropped their rifles and bolted. "The Bat got the boss! Let's go or we'll be next!" Batman was more focused on kicking out Deadshot's knee and punching him to the ground.

Ozpin meanwhile cut the bound man free and ushered him out of the bank, earning more than one thank-you for his effort. By the time he got back, Floyd Lawton was leaning against a podium. "Face to face at last," he growled with a wince, arms hanging limply in front of him. "Though I've gotta say, I was expecting someone a little more… intimidating."

Batman declared, "You're through terrorizing Gotham."

"If fate's decided today's the day, so be it. Just finish me quickly, will ya?"

Ozpin joined the caped man with a raised eyebrow. "Rather comfortable with the possible conclusion of your life, aren't you?"

Deadshot just shrugged. "If it's my time, then it's my time. I know what kind of life it live and how dying violently is very much in the cards for me. Made my peace with that a long time ago."

…He actually sounds sincere about it. No bravado. Well, he's not going to be much trouble now, and Batman wouldn't do it anyway. And neither will I. So they simply tied him down and left the bank. There was still more work to do, but at least the number of assassins had decreased to two.

Review Q&A:

*To Jebest4781: Always a relief to hear, thanks!

*To barrera2009: I'm glad you liked it, and Oz is a little roughed up from the fight. But it's nothing his Aura can't handle. If he'd been slower, then, yeah, he wouldn't have walked away without at least one broken limb. Thanks also for the props about my Spider-Man/Qrow idea, it's one of the irons smoldering in the fire. But first things first, I'll finish up this story, cross my heart.

*To the first guest: My thoughts exactly.

*To MajorBrony95: Didn't mean to rush you with your work, though a Ruby vs. Bane fight would be fun to see (and the Hazel comparison is just par for the course; anybody who's met both of those musclebound cholerics would say so).

*To the second guest: Batman's aversion to guns is as much a psychological thing as it is a logical one: a gun took the lives of his parents, so him holding or seeing one could hit the trauma button in his mind. Oz knows enough about him by now that he'd understand that this isn't something that will go away with a few words. He'd try to negotiate a sort of compromise between Batman and other Huntsmen/-tresses. He doesn't judge them for using gun components in their weapons, but he doesn't have to use them himself.

*To MetalScizor: Hey, no rush here, read my story when you've got the time and effort for it. The Doom games at least sound like fun, maybe I'll look into it. There are a couple of other series I'm into at the moment, so it's not easy. But who knows?

And a Merry Christmas, everyone!