Summary:
Three times they realized Dick came back with unexplainable abilities... and next time will be the one time Dick explained.
One: Not mind control, but vertigo.
Two: He's got a blurry face, I've got a spiral.
Three: For your eyes only (well, your's and Helena's apparently)
Each chapter will be up separately. The plus one will be delayed!
One: Not mind control, but vertigo.
The Mad Hatter was easier to take down when he was a kid, Dick mused, ducking under Tim's bow staff and rolling away from Damian's flying kick. Across the room Red Hood was in close combat with Batman. A handful of unconscious henchmen were laid out across the floor.
"Why are you not under my control!" The villain demanded, glaring between Jason and Dick. He was at the head of the table with the remains of a tea party and a woman with long blond hair at the other end. She was tied to her chair, rag in her mouth and a tea cup taped to her left hand.
As a kid, the hypnosis was loose. Batman was uncoordinated and mindless when under the Hatter's control. He was all brawn and no brain. It allowed Dick to escape in a cloud of smoke and easily destroy whatever mind control contraption was pulled together. Now, it wasn't so easy.
"Would you believe it's because I met my quota for mind control for the century?" Dick asked, ignoring Jason's snort.
Batman took another running leap, tackling Red Hood. Jason used the momentum to roll on his back and launch the bat themed hero towards the Hatter. "It's the Helmet, Bitch," He yelled.
The smaller man squawked, thrown from his chair and then hitting the ground under 300 pounds of kevlar and muscle. Batman rolled off the villain, throwing himself back into the fight with Red Hood with little concern for the fallen.
"Shit," Jason muttered, "I'm out of ideas, you're up Goldie." He ducked under a fist.
"All you did was knock him out," Dick cried, spinning and ducking. He ignored the headache pressing in, the pain throbbing behind his eyes. He ignored the slight tilt to the world, "That's not –" he cut himself off. "Never mind. Does your helmet have a way to track frequencies?" he asked instead.
Jason's "What" turned into a grunt when Bruce caught him in the stomach with a kick.
"First things first," Dick decided. He launched towards the table, covered in mismatched tea sets. He grabbed the first pot and threw the contents at the approaching Damian. The younger hero gave just a moment's pause, but it was long enough for Dick to follow up with an ice pellet. Typically used when dealing with Ivy, it was made to rapidly freeze when it came into contact with water. Rather than vines, Dick was using it to freeze Damian in place.
With one down, Dick drew his attention to Red Robin. He pulled his grapple line twisting the end into a lasso while letting Tim stalk closer. Tim launched forward, the two sparring in quick hand to hand. Nightwing got the loop around Red Robin's left wrist, kicking the younger hero into one of the upholstered high back chairs. "Hood!" Dick yelled, signaling to the chair. To his relief Jason understood. The man kicked Bruce, sending him stumbling, landing with his back against Tim's chair. Nightwing danced around them, going right to pull Tim's arm across his chest and further hinder movement. Whenever Bruce would struggle forward, it would prompt Tim to pull back.
Dick pulled a vial from his belt, sticking first under Tim's nose then Bruce's. Both heros fell unconscious. Without Bruce holding his own weight, the chair tipped back. Dick gave it a push, landing on its side to prevent Batman from face planting on the floor.
"Tracing signals," Dick prompted, panting for breath.
Jason was thankful for his helmet hiding his slack-jawed expression. Dick had just taken down three of their own in a matter of seconds with very little help.
When Red Hood didn't answer, the other hero turned back around, a wave of nausea hit. Dick took a step back, leaning heavily against the table. Jason followed the movement, an arm out to catch Dick if he started to tip. "What was that?" he demanded.
"Kick back," Dick muttered. Pressing a knuckle to his forehead. "He's using a frequency control of some kind. Exposure," Dick pointed a finger to his ear, "and close corridors allowed for his suggestion and control. It's probably why you were safe under the helmet."
"And you?" Jason pressed, crossing his arms across his chest. Both men ignored Damian's thrashing and clawing at his iced lower half.
"Frequency is close to Spyral's," Dick shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Close enough to be blocked but far enough to be fucking pain."
Questions caught on Jason's tongue and concern pooled in his gut. "Goldie's swearing," he said instead. "must be a cold day in hell."
"The longer we are in this room, the worse I'm going to feel." Dick muttered, "I'll help the victim, can you find the source? Speaker or control panel, it doesn't matter."
Jason bit back the snide remark and nodded, he could hear the slight desperation in Dick's voice. The clench to his jaw and white-knuckled fists are easy giveaways to anyone able to read Dick. Jason ignored the slight panic in his gut at the rapid paling Nightwing. He ran a hand along the wall, knocking until he reached a hollow point. He used his fist to pop the plate free with a satisfying clang. It refieled a small screen and a bunch of wires. "Wing," he turned back to the older man.
Dick had slid down the table to untie the 'Alice' with a wingding. He was focused on the task, hands purposely not shaking.
With an internal "fuck it" Jason grabbed a fist full of wires and pulled. A sign of relief from Nightwing verified it worked. The two worked in silence, Nightwing finished releasing Alice with steadier hands while Red Hood tossed a pellet at Damian, melting him free.
"Robin," Nightwing called as the younger hero blinked in confusion around the room. "Escort the hostage outside. Emergency response should have pulled up by now."
The younger hero jumped to comply, shooting a concerned look to Dick but following orders. Nightwing offered a quick smile, watching the two go. He slumped when they were out of view in one of the chairs, turning to watch Jason work on freeing Red Robin and Batman. "You're not going to help?" Jason grumbled.
"If I stand right now, there is a very good chance I will throw up." Dick said, completely honest.
Jason cringed, "yeah, stay away from me." He muttered, earning a small laugh from Dick that didn't make Jason smile. "If you do puke, aim away."
Dick gave him a weak thumbs up, taking slow measured breaths.
With some smelling salts and a knife, Jason was able to raise and free the other two just in time for Robin to return.
"If it's already with you," Dick began before anyone else could speak, "I'm going to head outside." He stood, swaying on his feet. He missed the concerned looks with his eyes closed and knuckle working into the temple on either side of his head. "I'm fine," he muttered, as if sensing Damian approaching at his elbow. "Just vertigo and a headache."
"Return to the cave," Batman ordered, "We'll finish up here."
Nightwing's eyes snapped open, he looked ready to protest instead put a hand to his mouth and closed his eyes. "You can barely stand," Red Robin pointed out. "We can finish up without you."
"Fine," Dick pushed off on steadier legs, his face suddenly blank. He took controlled steps out the back exit without a second glance. They let him leave with various stages of shock, expecting Nightwing to put up more of a fight.
They rounded up the various henchmen around the building and the Mad Hatter, turning him over to the cops with a quick explanation of events. The Hatter, having woken up near the end, was already lamenting about Nightwing and Red Hood not falling under his control.
The bat's avoided answering any questions, not having answers anyways, before vanishing into the night. They convened a few streets over, Bruce, Tim, and Damian all turning to Jason when they landed. "Fuck if I know," He said as greeting.
"He didn't show any signs of being controlled?" Tim pressed.
Jason tugged off his own helmet, running a hand through his hair. "No, but as soon you went down, he pretty much collapsed. Was muttering something about Spyral and frequencies." He gave a half shrug, "Destroying the signal helped, brought you back too."
At the mention of Spyral, the three turned to Bruce but his face gave nothing away. "Finish patrol," he said instead. "I'll talk to Nightwing when we get back to the cave."
"Fuck you. If you think we're letting you two plot again." Jason spat, shoving his helmet back on a bit more aggressive than intended.
For a brief moment Bruce seemed almost regretful, before it disappeared back under Batman persona. "We'll talk to Nightwing," he amended.
"Whatever," Red Hood muttered, pulling a grapple. "I'll take the docks through Amusement Mile," he said in place of a goodbye.
They watched him go, "I'll take old Gotham," Tim offered after a stretch of silence.
Bruce nodded once, sending Tim on his way. The man turned to his remaining son, "Come Robin," He gestured to follow, jumping to the awaiting Batmobile below.
They convened at the Batcave later that night, learning from Alfred that Dick never arrived. Tim was already pulling up camera feeds from the Hatter's location before Jason and Damian could hop on their bikes and start a search. They gathered around the computer, following Dick's slow progress to an alley next to the building they would be gathering on a short time later.
Dick stopped, they watched as he threw up into a half empty trash can. The feed didn't have sound, and was grainy, but even at the poor quality, they could see the pain and exhaustion on the hero's face.
Eventually, he stopped, leaning back against the wall taking more deep breaths. Dick pulled a phone from his belt, tapping only a few times before holding it to his ear. They watched a quick conversation with someone before Dick hung up, looking slightly more relaxed.
In only a few seconds, a flash of blue blinded the camera. A man, they assumed based on his size and outline, specifics lost to the bright blue door of light behind him, was at the end of the alley. Dick straitened, with a smile. The man gestured to Dick to walk through the portal, with a steadying hand on his shoulder. The two disappeared in seconds.
They stood in silence, the camera back to the empty street and dirty alleyway. It was less than a minute later Robin swung past the camera, prompting Tim to turn it off.
Alfred cleared his throat, startling the bats. The man stood with Bruce's cellphone in hand. "I believe you would want to see this." He said, holding it out. On the screen was a text message from Dick.
Going to SH. Text if need bkup