Mounting Trials

We're five little objects of an everyday sort. You'll find us all in a tennis court.

If Harper were a robot, a little spring would have popped out of the side of her head and smoke would be filtering out of both ears.

Let's put it this way, she was a whiz with electricity, electronics, wiring, troubleshooting, and might have started looking into a little hacking because why always be dependent on Oracle? She might be grounded, thanks to Nightwing, but she wasn't about to let her skills goes down the crapper while she waited to soar as Bluebird once more.

That said, riddles were not her thing. They were never her thing. Puzzles, what those things in her neighbor's newspaper? Crossword, Sudoku, the other kind of crossword, those had never interested her no matter how much Cullen tried to do them himself and fail.

And here she was, in a hellhole of a VR game, and she needed to solve thirty riddles if she ever wanted to see her little brother's goofy face again.

She had only solved two, and she had been guessing randomly on both.

This was Hell. Yes, Hell with a capital H. If she was going to die and go to Hell, this is what that place would look like. She had to get out of here. Now. That, of course, and predictably, was easier said than done. A lot of things were easier said than done, but done they had been and this was another one, but seriously, why riddles?

Harper had cracked and tried to break out of this room, this hellhole of a classroom that she was trapped in all by herself, had dismantled a desk, tried to chip her way through a wall, and had gotten nowhere. Not a good moment, especially since she had only acted that way after guessing wrong for the fifth time on the tenth riddle she had randomly selected and still she was getting nowhere and damn it, what five objects could you find in a damn tennis court that were common everyday things? Was it balls? Five balls? People? But she could only think of three people who could be in a tennis court, two players and a referee! Unless it was doubles? That would be five, right? So…

"People?" she tried.

A brilliant red X lit up the board, and a shrill buzzer attacked her hearing, telling her exactly how wrong she was.

That had been her third guess for this particular riddle.

Five items, everyday sort, and in a tennis court, what the hell was she missing?!

Harper couldn't help herself, she punched the board and felt nothing, not even pain.

Then she pressed her forehead against the board, taking in deep breathes. How long had she been in here? How long had she been trying and barely having any success, and how was Cullen holding up? Probably losing his mind...falling apart...bawling his eyes out… Probably all three. Was he alone? He couldn't be alone. He hated being alone.

She had to be tough, to be the tough one, because Cullen was too good for this world, a sweet kid who just wanted to make friends with everybody, and stuck in a slum with a lot of horrible people in it. He was a bully magnet, and she was the one who took care of the bullies. Made sure they didn't bother this kid who was too good for them all..

"I didn't think you were the violent type. Consider me informed now."

Harper's eyes flared open and she snapped her head about. Then she paused, because there was a disembodied head floating in the air along with two hands. What?

"Didn't your father ever teach you not to abuse the world around you?" the floating head that belonged to the bastard holding her here taunted as it floated closer.

Her father, by the way, taught her shit. He was rotting in Blackgate, right where he belonged, and she would be damned if she gave him any respect that he thought he was owed because he donated his sperm. She was only this far in her life because she had to grow up quickly and look after her brother, no thanks to him.

"I'd say you'd have balls, but right now I don't see them." Her eyes flicker down to the empty space where said balls would have normally been located, had there been a body there in the first place.

"And quite a mouth you have. Why Stephanie Brown, what would your parents think? Do you kiss them with that mouth?" There was a chuckle as the head and hands began to circle around her.

As if she would even think about…

"Why don't you show yourself?" she demanded, glaring at what she knew was some digital projection that was taunting her. Holding up a fist, she added, "I'll throw in a riddle as well, what's about to be black and blue and wishing his mama never met his papa?"

A disembodied hand lightly tapped her check, the floating head leaning in uncomfortably close. "Threats of violence will get you nowhere, Ms. Brown. You can throw a temper tantrum in here all you like, it won't help you."

"Who says it's a threat?" Harper growled back.

"I do. Because a threat has no real backing. There's nothing to support it. A threat is a threat because it implies you can carry it out when in reality, a threat is an empty promise, one that you have no ability or intention of carrying out. So threaten all you like, you have no power or agency to carry it out. Besides, have you forgotten already?" A finger now pressed itself against the tip of her nose, and still, she did not feel anything.

"What?" Another growl, because she was so done with this shit.

The head and hands pulled back while rising higher into the air. He was looking down on her, wasn't he? "It's only a game. A flight of fancy, a fun diversion, and escape from reality."

"And not one I wanted!" Harper shouted back, not caring how loud she was. "Now let me out of here now before I—"

And she was suddenly facing the board again with the same riddle she had been trying and failing to solve once more. She barely registered a hand on her shoulder, which was saying something because she could not feel it whatsoever.

"This is an easy one," Riddler chided. "A tennis court. It's all there. Look beyond what you see, and you'll find the answer. You should be a smart girl, so be smart and answer. I'll check on you later to see your progress. Try to answer another one before I do."

And then the motherfucker had to fade out of existence, leaving her all by herself with that damn board with the hard as hell riddle behind her. As if it had, and it did, offended her, Harper glared at the board, specifically the words "a tennis court." The answer was somehow there, the Riddle had pretty much pointed that out, but she still wasn't seeing it.

This damn thing was standing in the way of her getting back to Cullen, and if she could, she would—ah, screw it, she punched the damn board. The good news was she felt nothing in her hand; the bad news was that the board was still there and not a convenient hole.

Another thing to add to the growing list of things pissing her off today.

Gone were the long corridors and short hallways had replaced them. Sharp turns had forced them to go into a zigzag pattern for a moment before leading them in what felt like a circle. They must have entered a part of the maze that folded in on itself. Perhaps they were somewhere near the center.

That wasn't where Batman wanted to be. The exit to this labyrinth obviously was at the outer walls, not the center. That first room they had been left in must have been in a random place and without knowing which direction they were going, they were just walking around here blind.

There was a metaphor for a rat in a maze here, but the vigilante didn't like the connotation.

A sigh came from Catwoman. Glance at her, she had a dull look on her face, as if she were bored. A very feline expression that fit her namesake. She had on more than one occasion commented on how tired of this she was.

Then came a sound, a low rumble if you will. Both of them stopped their walking, Batman glancing to his companion as Catwoman stared straight ahead, more alert than ever. "Was that…" he trailed off.

"My stomach? Absolutely not." The woman narrowed her eyes as she shot a glare at him. "Don't you even say a word."

Batman looked straight ahead, beginning to walk again. He wasn't one to talk either, he could feel his own stomach churning from hunger. Though he was adept at not allowing feelings of hunger and fatigue stop him from doing his job, this place with its endless monotony made it hard for him to ignore.

Reaching yet another turn, they rounded the corner and came to another sudden stop. Down a short corridor, a dead end appeared, one that widened out like a funnel. To the left was a sealed doorway, the same for the right. Two doors with no visible sign of how to open them.

"Oh, don't tell me we made a wrong damn turn," Catwoman moaned.

"To the contrary."

The wall between the doorways became static and then the Riddler appeared. "You, my famous foes, are at an intriguing crossroad. I imagine you are beginning to feel the secondary stages of hunger and fatigue. Before you stands a choice: one that will allow you to recover your waning strength...and the other a further trek into my labyrinth."

"And naturally there's a riddle," Batman said.

The Riddler began a slow clap, one that was clearly sarcastic. "My, my, you really are the World's Greatest Detective. Now, do you wish to play, or shall I take the choice from you?"

"This is your game, Riddler. Give us your clue."

The corner of the Riddler's mouth twitched up. "No man has seen me, but all men know me. Lighter than air, sharper than any sword, I come from nothing but will fell the strongest armies. What am I?"

"Great, an invisible enemy," Catwoman grumbled.

"Or rather an abstract construction," Batman responded. "It's something all men know, so it affects everyone. It hurts as sharp as a sword, so a stabbing pain. Coming from nothing could mean it appears out of thin air; one moment it's not there and the next it is. And it can fell the strongest armies…"

"So a feeling with stabbing pain that comes out of nowhere and fell...uhh, stops powerful armies," Catwoman repeated. "The hell is that?"

As if on cue, her stomach rumbled again, an uncomfortable look appearing on her face. Clearly she was feeling discomfort from the same churning, empty stomach he was. However, her eyes darted to the wall in front of them.

"My, my, how lady-like," the Riddler taunted.

"You heard nothing."

"Considering our circumstances, what I heard is the least of your worries, no matter how apropos it is."

That caused Batman's eyes to narrow. Apropos, an old French word that led to the English appropriate. There was another clue to the riddle's answer and it had to do with Catwoman's gurgling stomach.

And then he had his answer.

"It's hunger," he announced. "The answer to your riddle is hunger."

Catwoman and the Riddler eyed him just before the door to the right began to open, its filled opening sliding to one side. "Well done, Dark Knight," the riddle man congratulated him. "You've solved more riddles than I believed you were capable of."

Then his image went static and he was gone. The two costumed comrades looked to each other before they went for the open doorway. On the other side was a room, one with a couple of rolled up sleeping bags and a little stand nearby. From what he could see, there were a couple loafs of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a couple canteens which were hopefully filled with something to drink. It was a sparse meal, but everything was something that wouldn't go bad within a few days.

"Are you feeding us now?" Batman asked out loud. "Or is this another of your traps."

"You seem to have a low opinion of me, Batman," the Riddler's voice sounded off, though there was no visual of him. Speakers had to have been hidden in this room. "As of many with a fondness for games, I am not one to ignore convention. You find yourself in one of the safe places in the labyrinth. There are no traps, or threats, that will harm you here. Feel free to eat and get some sleep. I strongly advise you to replenish your strength while you have the chance."

"I'm certain you can see how I can be skeptical," the vigilante countered. "You did kidnap and place us here. That doesn't do well for trust."

"A fair point, but allow me to persuade you that I am being genuine. I did not have to go to all of this trouble, you know. You were quite vulnerable at the museum, may I remind you. If I had wanted to, I could have taken a gun and killed you both right then and there. I could have even unmasked you to learn your precious secret identities. As you can see, I have neither killed you, nor peaked under your masks."

"How do we know that you didn't peak and are claiming not to?" Catwoman pressed.

"You don't, but I assure you I did not. That is rather a cheap and anticlimactic way to solve the mystery behind your true selves. Someone of my intelligence does not need to seek such affirmation. There is a greater thrill in solving it through deduction."

"I still think you—" Catwoman began.

Only for Batman to place a hand on her wrist. "He's telling the truth."

She gave him an incredulous look. "How can you say that?"

"He's right that he didn't have to put us here. He could have killed us at any point while we were unconscious. Plus, he has a high opinion of himself. He wouldn't ruin the answer to a good riddle by checking for the answer in the back of the book."

"At last, someone that understands me."

"So what, we should trust him that he won't spray more of that knockout gas when we mess with the food? Or that some giant buzzsaw won't cut right through the floor?"

"For now. Once we leave this room, all bets are off."

There was a knot on her forehead. It ached and throbbed over and over and over. There might have even been a bruise, but since there was no mirror to confirm it, Cassandra just imagined there was one anyway.

She was sitting on the floor, arms crossed over her chest, legs crossed beneath her. She cracked one of her closed eyes open to eye the relaxed Shiva, who was sitting in the same position as her, meditating. The lack of damage on her was rather infuriating.

They had been at each other over and over and Cassandra hadn't been able to land a solid blow. This only frustrated her even more as the urge to get out of there was growing with every passing minute. Why was she here? Why had Shiva kidnapped her? What was the whole point of this?!

Cassandra fought back at the anxiety she felt. It wouldn't help her just like all of the other times it hadn't. All it did was force her to make mistakes and Shiva made her pay for each and every one of them. As she had put it, "It was a lesson out of motherly concern."

She was rather growing sick of the term "Mother."

So here they were, one of them meditating, the other supposedly meditating. Cassandra couldn't find her center and had pretty much given up on it. There was no way she wanted to find peace with this situation as much as Shiva wanted her to. In the back of her head, she knew her father would have told her to take advantage of the situation, find her calm, and make a plan. Her problem was that there was just something so off-putting about Shiva to her that she couldn't focus on this.

She wasn't sure what it was. Shiva was her only known blood relative, a connection she so desperately craved for at one point. Now she found that connection to be inconvenient, especially since it led her to this current situation. Shiva also had knowledge on her birth, knowledge she lorded over her just by being in her presence.

Part of Cassandra wanted to forget ever needing to know that information, if only so that Shiva lost the hold she had on her.

"You're not meditating."

Shiva had said this so quietly, matter-of-factly, that it disrupted Cassandra's stewing. She didn't deny this as it was obvious that she wasn't. "No, I'm not," she spat back indignantly.

"Why aren't you? It is good for your soul."

"I find the company I'm in to be less than peaceful."

Shiva opened her eyes, looking disapproving at the girl. "Am I that repulsive to you?"

For a moment, Cassandra felt she needed to be careful here. Being a petulant teenager was not the way to go. "Do you really want to know?"

The corner of the older woman's mouth twitched up. "I care not how you feel." Any illusion there was that this deadly woman was upset was dashed. "However, I do find myself curious as to how my own daughter views me. Please, enlighten me."

"I wonder," Cassandra murmured. "Are you my mother? My real, biological mother? How do you know with such certainty?"

"A mother knows," Shiva replied simply.

"Even after nearly two decades?"

There was a pause. "Time does provide an obstacle," she admitted. "But I recognized you the moment we fought for the first time. Our features are quite similar, no? Then there is your fighting style—though it is covered with the Detective's fingerprints , it doesn't hide the stench of David Cain's."

Circumstantial evidence, all of that. "A blood test would be more definite," she told her.

"Most certainly. I'm certain we could perform one at any time. In fact—" at this Shiva pulled out a knife and set in on the floor between them, "—should you prevail over me, you may take a sample—as much as you like—to perform such a test. I'm certain the Detective has the facilities to do it."

Cassandra didn't like the way Shiva had said that. It was like this woman suggested she drain her of her blood. That wasn't a nice feeling.

So she decided to change the subject slightly. "You really hate Cain, don't you."

A scowl appeared on her face. "More than you will ever know."

Cassandra vaguely recalled the story. Aside from Cain's alleged theft of her, there was something else, a sister if she remembered right. "Because of your sister."

"Yes. There is not another person I have ever loved more than her and because of him, she is dead." Shiva looked to the pictures on the wall, the ones of her victims. "Out of all of them, that is the only one that haunts me."

"How did it happen?"

"I'm certain I told you this, how Cain pitted us against each other." There was a somber look on her face. "We had trained against each other for so long, we knew the other's every move before we even made them. She was truly my only equal. The only one that came close to her was the Demon's Head."

"Didn't the...the Batman defeat you once?"

There was a rather unladylike snort. "A practice match, no more. I suppose you may mark that as a defeat, but he was a desperate minion fighting for his life while there was nothing on the line for me. All he proved then was that he was capable of fighting for his own survival, no more, no less."

Cassandra didn't like that dismissal of her father's abilities. Perhaps, with his memory gone, that was very well the case, but it seemed to belittle him all the same. She had trained with him, learned from him, and understood he was an amazing fighter in his own right.

But then, "I will admit, I am curious as to how much better he has become," Shiva admitted. "Our last match was rather disappointing, though I believe that was due to that enemy of his, the one called Hurt. His interference puts a damper on our last meeting."

"I must admit I am curious about how that would end as well."

A smile appeared on Shiva's face. "I would win, naturally. The Detective's unwillingness to kill is his greatest liability. It forces him to hold back."

"That was something Cain didn't do, I'm guessing."

And the scowl was back. "No, he did not. As much as I hate to admit it, he did teach me the value of not holding back. He was the last I held back against and it costed me dearly."

"You were used to doing it though, because of that man before him, the one you claim is my biological father," Cassandra offered.

"Are you saying I should fault him for this? No, I cannot do that. Everything bad that happened was because of Cain and no one else. That young man," a nostalgic look appeared on her face, "was so determined. He was quite sloppy, but he was just beginning too. He hadn't mastered his lessons before I met him."

"Lessons?" Cassandra questioned.

"It was plain as day that he was trying to learn everything he could find. He did not have the discipline to master what he had learned before moving onto the next. Of course, he knew the basics, and was doing an alright job fusing each lesson he learned with the next. He said he wanted to learn everything for some goal of his. I never did find out what that goal was."

"You talked with him?"

"Of course I did, child! He was charming when he wanted to be, but there was a...a darkness in him. Strange to see it in one so young, now that I think about it. He was wrestling with it and I like to think I offered him a reprieve from it, even for a little while."

Cassandra had an idea what that reprieve was and didn't want to think about it much further. Something felt icky about it to her. "You never saw him again, I'm guessing."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." There was a sly smirk on Shiva's face. "I've encountered him, though we were in two different places by then. Whatever feelings we may or may not have had were moot."

"And where did you meet him?" The younger girl couldn't help but sound eager at that. She cursed herself for sounding so needy.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Shiva teased.

Cassandra's frustration came back, causing her to scowl this time. It seemed this introspective moment was over.

Bitch.

You would think she would have gone home after that tussle at Computron, but Spoiler knew that there was one other thing that she needed to take care of first. See, with the huge increase of bodies at every hospital in the city, there was only so much room for them all, and that wasn't counting the family members who would demand to stay at their loved ones' sides.

But doctors and nurses had their jobs to do, and having everyone's family in there with them would have been a nightmare. No, in order to give better care, or be able to do the absolute minimum, hospitals were kicking out everyone at a designated time with the offer to come back tomorrow.

This meant that Cullen couldn't stay at his sister's side and had to take a bus to one of the bad neighborhoods in the city. Cullen was also a bully magnet, so when you put those two together…

Spoiler watched the bus pull away from its stop, one less passenger on it. Said passenger looked the very definition of sad, but then again, from where she hid, it was not easy to get that good of a look. Still, slumped shoulders, bowed head, and the small gait were kinda dead giveaways.

The hooded vigilante kept out of sight, preferring the rooftop because even after all this time, no one cared to look up before deciding to commit any sort of crime, which they totally should. Those old lessons from Nightwing were coming back and doing so in a way that was kind of scary how easy it was to slip back into them.

Naturally, she wasn't the only one who had spotted Cullen. Further down the street, and loitering at a storefront were a small group of guys, all of them bigger than the smaller kid. She initially kept an eye on them, assuming them to be a potential threat that was becoming all the more real as one of the guys nodded their head in Cullen's direction. A few seconds passed, as if the group was considering its next move. Her eyes narrowed as the group began to move, and wouldn't you know it, it was in the same direction Cullen was going.

It could have been mere coincidence; that did happen once in a while. Body language told a different story. Even from where she watched, Spoiler picked up on the cues, the same ones that Nightwing had drilled into her head so very long ago. Since those lessons had been taught from high above, and every once in a while on ground level, it was like being reminded of something she knew and recalling that information was what slowed her down.

It was so late out. Cullen had refused to leave the hospital until there was no other choice. This was a bad neighborhood, so most good people were in their homes, hiding away. The thugs and goons that haunted these streets tended to claim pieces of it as their turfs. And last, but not least, Cullen was a magnet for being preyed on. Added together, and she knew she needed to act, and act now.

The grapple was taken out, the claw securely attached to the rooftop, and she was going over the edge, allowing the cable to slow her descent. At an appropriately judged distance, she let go and allowed herself to fall, landing in front of the group of predators in a crouch, her cape covering her body. Her head turned enough that she could look around the edge of her hood and see the blank looks on the men's faces.

"Find your kicks elsewhere. He's off limits," she warned, doing her best to sound as severe as possible. She'd learned the hard way that trying to sound intimidating just didn't work for her.

The one who stood at the front of the pack smirked. "That right?" A switchblade was drawn out and held menacingly. "Think you can tell us what to do?"

If there had been a hope that she might have been running into a misunderstanding, it was dead now. So right, so very right about Cullen being targeted. All the stories Harper had told her, or had dropped every once in a while, were so backed up right now.

Oh, she wanted to quip something back, but she was drawing a blank. So, she did the next best thing and acted. Her arm whipped out from under her cape, and a birdarang of the Red Robin variety sliced through the air until it struck the hand holding the knife. There was a cry of pain and surprise, this thug not expecting any kind of resistance. Was probably used to that kind of status quo too.

Now this was getting a little scary, especially since she had no one watching her back this time, and there was a grand total of...four, five...six of them. Gonna be rough, but Cullen had been through too much already.

She charged, her cape flapping behind her. With a good leap, she swung a leg out and nailed the frontman in the face. The man stumbled back from the blow, a bit disappointing meaning that she needed to put more force in her hits. That aside, the frontman did stumble back and was caught by two of his buddies. The other three, no longer distracted, charged forth, two of them taking out switchblades of their own.

Danger senses were screaming. Spoiler fell back, arms held up defensively. The one without a knife reached her first, and he swung a fist at her all the while sneering. Snarling. Snarling and sneering. He was making an angry face, so it didn't matter which it was, and neither did the first. She had jerked back to avoid the knuckles, then ducked under the extended arm. Her own limbs snaking around the man's, then her body reversed course. One of her gloved hands found its way into an armpit, which in this case meant leverage.

Throwing had been a talent she had discovered, and a fighting skill she tended to excel at amongst the former Batclan. Falling back into the old movements was almost like riding a bike for her, and sure enough, she was flipping a much larger man over herself to land on his back against the sidewalk. There was no relaxing after that, though, because the momentary light flashing off of steel blades had her immediately looking over her shoulder at the other two.

She jerked her head back, barely dodging the sharp edge that clipped her hood. She darted down and forward, keeping low so that she used the thug's own body as a shield from his knife. This moved her off the sidewalk and in the street itself, no cars fencing her in. The hooded vigilante slipped to her left as the second knife-wielding goon stabbed at her.

Her arms snatched the second goon's knife-wielding arm, and then she surged forward, pulling the arm with her and twisting it until she had him in an armlock. The guy cried out the more she pulled his arm back, and his fingers began to become lax in their grip on the knife handle.

Spotting the first guy over her captured goon's arm, Spoiler pulled the man in front of her, forcing him into being a human shield. The first guy had been trying to stab at her, but now that his friend was in his way, both men scrambled to try to a, stop the stabbing and b, avoid it, and either option depended on which one you were.

To make it harder for them, she gave a harsh shove, pushing the goon she had been armlocking right into her friend.

An arm wrapped around her neck while a strong hand clamped down on her left arm. "Fucking bitch!" a voice snarled into her ear. She would have rolled her eyes at this, but settled for raising up her right arm and throwing an elbow back into the thug's side. Reversing her arm, Spoiler got her hand under the man's elbow and pushed up. Letting her body go lax, she slipped down though her head was caught by the arm.

Meanwhile, she rolled her captured left arm, fighting against the man's thumb instead of his fingers, and breaking his grasp. Now using both hands, she latched onto the arm wrapped around her head and pulled down, bending at the waist and throwing the creep over her shoulder.

Taking a step back, the vigilante got a good look at where she stood. Though the thug she had just thrown over her shoulder was on the ground, the other five were either picking themselves up or were getting ready to rush at her. Damn, this would have been a great time to have someone watching her back, but hey, at least their attention was all on her.

What to do now? They were all pissed, they wanted to kick her ass, and maybe worse. At least it wasn't on Cullen. Now to get herself out of this situation and hopefully without too much bruising.

Holding her arms up, Spoiler declared, "I can do this all night guys. Who wants to hurt next?"

"You gonna get it!" a goon in the back shouted, looking ready to run at her even if it meant tearing through his buddies. She marked him, got ready for the attack…

A grey blur struck from above, the goon in the back giving cry before he was suddenly flipped and his head bashed into the pavement. The blur moved again, and there was a flash of light off a blade that ended with a hand falling to the sidewalk, still holding a switchblade.

The owner of the fallen hand let out a scream that was violent ended when the back of his head slammed into the building behind him, a booted foot planting itself in his face. The third goon fared no better as light flashed again and Spoiler spotted a samurai sword stabbing into the goon's foot. Another scream ended prematurely as a palm slammed into his chin and shut his mouth. As a footnote, blood began flowing in-between teeth as a small bit of tongue fell to the ground.

A leg tripped the third goon and the blur struck at the fourth. This thug was bent over almost perpendicularly, rapid punches to the gut immobilizing him and then down he went after a one-two-three hit combo that snapped his head from one side to the other. Not forgotten, the fifth goon, the same one that Spoiler had gotten in an armlock, was attacked, legs wrapping around his neck, and then pulled over and down to land face first on the sidewalk and there had been a loud snapping sound with that.

Light gleamed once more, and the samurai sword pointed its tip right into the face on the last goon who had only just begun pushing himself off his back and was only able to see his buddies lying about before his attention was redirected.

Spoiler acted without thinking it through. She planted her foot down on the thug's chest while her hands clapped down on either side of the sword, forcing the tip of the blade away from the goon's face. "That's enough!" she yelled while getting a good look at—

—hey, this was the kid from Computron! The same one that had attacked her!

"You're defending this scum?" the kid spat out.

"He's down. Aren't you?" The question had been directed down and onto the man she was half-standing over.

"Yeah...yeah…" the thug said, his voice nowhere near confident.

"See?" she demanded. "Put up the sword. We don't kill." Her muscles were starting to strain from the force she was exerting on the sword, but she wasn't about to let go just yet.

"Says who?" the kid demanded, not yet pulling his sword back, but she had the feeling he could do so at any time. But, since he asked…

"Says the Batman. Now put it away. It's over." She glared into the kid's eyes, or at least the white lens that covered them. Now she was working on adrenaline, but that was not going to hold her back right now. This situation had gone sideways in a way she hadn't anticipated and now she was rolling with the new punches.

"Tt." Was that a sound? It sounded like it, but the kid jerked his sword, and Spoiler let go, why, she didn't know. The kid, however, wasn't lunging forward or attacking, so she hoped she had reached him.

The samurai sword swung, slicing through the air but to the kid's side. A streak of blood splattered against the sidewalk and storefront, reminding the vigilante that this turn in events had also been bloody. A piece of white cloth emerged from beneath the grey-colored cloak and was used to wipe whatever blood was still on the blade.

This allowed Spoiler to look over the area, finding five bodies on the ground with at least two of them visibly bleeding. Grimacing, she looked down at the guy she was standing over and happened to see a growing wet spot on his pants—he pissed himself, didn't he?

Rolling her eyes, she turned and knelt down, grabbing the scared goon by the front of his shirt and yanking him up. "Call an ambulance, your friends look like they need one. Understand?"

The guy was staring at his friends, and not answering, and since he had wanted to hurt her, she felt no remorse when she gave a hard shake and repeated her last word.

He nodded, wide-eyed, but now he was looking at her so she knew she had his attention.

"I wouldn't try mugging anybody again. I can't guarantee it'll work out better next time," she warned. Nodding her head at the kid she stupidly had behind her, she added, "He might be watching and decide to hurt you worse. Now call 911 already."

Shoving him back, Spoiler stood up and stepped away, turning to glare the intervening kid down. Without a word, she pulled out a second grapple and fired it up into the air, ascending soon after. Privately, she made a note to retrieve the other one. It should still be where she had left it, right?

Reaching the top of the building, she pulled herself up and over, shaking her head as she did so. By the time she got her feet on solid gravel, she happened to take a look around and found that same kid three feet in front of her.

First, she was proud that she didn't do anything embarrassing like squeaking or screaming. Second, how did he get there and show up in that spot without making any noise, and third, was he following her?

"Get a bell or something!" she snapped as she took a step away. Narrowing her eyes, she accused, "You're the same kid that attacked me earlier, and now you're attacking those douchebags down there. What do you want?"

"I ask the questions," the kid spat back.

"No, you answer the questions because I asked first," Spoiler retorted. "So spill, junior. What is your deal?"

"Why are you interfering?" the kid shot back.

"Interfering with what? And don't try to throw it back on me! Answer my question already," she snapped back.

"Tt." That was the second time he did that. What was that supposed to mean? "As if I'm going to let a bunch of nobodies think they can steal my prey."

"So I'm your prey now? What did I do?" This kid this...what'd he call himself again? It was something stupid and lame...oh right, Son of Batman, sheesh.

"You're looking for the Riddler. I want to know what you know," the Son of Batman, or SOB as she was going to start calling him her head stated.

"About the same as everybody else, zilch." Wait, why had she answered his question from the get go? "Why are you so interested in the Riddler?"

"He has my father, and I'm going to save him." Oh God, he looked so arrogant with how he said that, his head held up in that proud way that made him look more like a douche than anything. And how old was he? "I need to know where he is so I can make him talk and tell me where he's holding him."

Which led to the next logical question, at least in Spoiler's mind. "And that led you to Computron, how?"

"Because that's where those Omnicrons come from. That's the only place he could get them." That tone of voice, the "no, duh" tone, how she knew it so well. "He has to have a connection to that place. Since I found you already there, tell me what you found out."

"I don't even know you, kid, and I don't even like you. Why would I tell you anything?" Those were fair points in her mind. She had just met this kid for the first time tonight, and after trying to kill her with a samurai sword, she knew she didn't like him.

And what was all that down there? She was barely seeing him move, which, how? And why not at Computron where she owned him? It didn't make sense. For the brief moment he had slowed down, she had gotten the impression he knew how to use that sword.

Speaking of the sword, it was back out, which led to another question, where had he hidden it? There was a smile on his face, and it showed a lot of teeth. Bloodthirsty looked like a good description of it. "I can make you tell me."

Okay, let's think quick here. Her nerves were on high alert, but miraculously she was keeping her cool. Hopefully her voice would stay cool as well. "You're going to cut me up? Stab me. Turn me into julienne fries?" Oh yeah, that was a sweet comeback. "I bleed out, you get no answers, doofus."

"Don't call me doofus!" SOB snarled at her.

"Then stop acting like one, and think!" she exclaimed, raising her voice and bulging her eyes. She held a hand up, fingers spread out and curled as if holding something invisible in it. Personally, she would have said it was her mind, but whatever. "A person only has so much blood! You can only cut and stab with that thing! How's that going to make me talk! Batman doesn't need a sword and he has people shitting themselves to talk with him! So think!"

Was it her or did she spot a sign of hesitation? The sword was steady in his hands but it looked like it wavered for half a second.

So she pressed forward. "There are better ways to do this. You haven't even tried to threaten me! You started off with that, that might have unnerved me enough to believe I was in real danger with you!"

Belatedly, she wondered why she was giving SOB tips here.

"You know what, never mind." This was done, she was done, and since, as far as she knew, Cullen was safe, she could leave. Both hands were up, a sign of giving up on the whole thing. "Just don't kill anybody and I won't get in your way. I'm going."

SOB's eyes were wide under that domino mask, and he didn't have the control over himself to stop himself from asking, "Where are you going?" Yes, asking and not demanding.

She hadn't waited on him to speak and was walking past him. Preferably, she would have liked to have walked away, but she still needed to get that other grapple she used earlier and SOB happened to be between her and it. Over her shoulder, she called back, "I told you, I'm gone!"

The rapid crunching of gravel made her want to groan out loud as SOB ran in front of her, blocking her way. "You're not going anywhere!" he shouted, sounding a lot more like an actual kid.

"And what part of 'I'm gone' did you not understand!" Spoiler snapped back.

"I'm not going anywhere until I find my father and the Riddler, and you're going to tell me what I want to know!" Great, his shouting was getting even louder.

"I can't tell you what I don't know, and right now, I'm trying to help my friends out of this nightmare, and if you're not going to help with that, then get out of my way!" Just to point out, she wasn't shouting, but she did let some of her anger get out there.

SOB was glowering, but there was something a little different about it. Hard to put her finger on, but then his next words gave away what it was. "Then it seems like we're after the same thing. The Riddler has my father and your friends—"

"Oh hell no!" Spoiler exclaimed. "Are you suggesting a team up? With you? Who in their right mind would?! You're a kid!"

"I know battle," SOB stated.

"And I kicked your ass! Remember? I pinned you!" Spoiler snapped back.

"Because you happen to fight better than those losers you attacked!"

"Is that a compliment because I feel insulted somehow!"

"You're in over your head and we both know it!" SOB declared, and where he got that, she had no idea and felt even more insulted. "I barely remember you." Now he was trying too hard. "Mother's files don't even have a paragraph on you." Wait, there was a file on her? "You're a nobody who's not a threat to anybody." This was really getting rude, but hold on, there was a file? "So you don't stand a chance against the Riddler."

"And you do?" Because you could only take so many insults.

"I have an order of assassins at my beck and call. What do you have?"

Spoiler blinked. Was he serious about that? Really? Would that have anything to do with that file he had mentioned? This was becoming a lot and she didn't want to handle anymore.

"Okay, BatJunior—"

"The Son of Batman!"

"—whatever! I'm going to go through the data I got from Computron. I'm going to see where it's going to take me. I'm going to follow it to the Riddler and free those kids he has taken hostage. You want to follow me, you can try. Maybe you have some skill, but you have no skills in investigating and research. I bet you used that so-called order of assassins you have to do your dirty or something and not do it yourself. Hey, how about you use them instead and leave me alone. Now get out of my way, and if you really want to make yourself useful, do something about that dumb name of yours. Come up with something better, because it's embarrassing."

She shoved her way past SOB, marching her way after her other grapple. Feeling spiteful, she also called back ,"And put away that samurai sword while you're at it!"

"It's a katana!"

Whatever.

Author's note: The riddle Riddler tells Batman and Catwoman comes from a game: Dragon Age Origins. Was thinking about incorporating a safe space in this maze, one for our heroes to rest in, and realized we needed a riddle for it. So here we are. Meanwhile, anyone care to guess the answer to Harper's riddle?