AN: Hello everyone. Look who is back…
I am sorry for just dropping off the radar without warning. My last uni year was very stressful and I had so much work that it just got too overwhelming at some point. So, I was basically threading water trying to keep myself afloat amid all this coursework. (Any fellow students who can relate?) Fanfiction writing sadly was the first thing to suffer – and I missed it.
But now I'm back and I think next year will be less stressful. I fully intend to finish this and I'm a dog with a bone when it comes to writing. I read your comments in the meantime. They were the encouragement I needed to know that I needed to continue. So, thank you for them.
I plan to keep up my Sunday schedule. Maybe with shorter (but still substantial) chapters.
To help get into this chapter after this break, a small summary: Dick is still dead (I'm so sorry, my boy). Talia took Damian back. Bruce told his family the truth about his time-travel shenanigans and they are planning a mission to revive Dick and save Damian.
11. Cat-and-Mouse
Damian had been locked in his room the last few days. He didn't care. He wouldn't have left it anyway. Nothing mattered anymore. Damian was caged in this inescapable destiny. Grayson had given him the illusion of freedom for a few weeks but in the end it had been for nought.
Grayson was dead and no one would come for Damian. Not his incapable fool of a father. Not Todd who didn't care about Damian. Not the Birds of Prey who saw Damian as a monster. Grayson had been the only one to believe in Damian. And where had it gotten him?
The door opened and Talia strode in. She stopped in the middle of the room as if she was unsure. Damian turned around on the bed ignoring her. She didn't deserve his words after she had killed Grayson in front of his eyes.
Talia put down a tray next to Damian's bed. Damian felt the bed dip.
"Son, this is unworthy of someone with your standing."
Damian shrugged. He couldn't care less about his standing. Grayson hadn't cared either.
Talia sighed. She put a hand on Damian's head, stroking his hair.
"You can't still be mourning your pet, Damian?"
"He wasn't a pet. He was a friend – and you killed him", Damian shoved her hand away.
"It was a lesson you needed to learn."
Damian didn't care.
"Your Grandfather is disappointed in you", Talia said, "I had to utilize all my persuasion techniques to keep him from disowning you."
"Just go ahead. Let him do it."
Damian knew what disownment meant when Ra's al Ghul spoke of it.
"You are my son, Damian", Talia's voice was softer suddenly, "I will never let you be disowned. Every step I take is to ensure that you fulfil your legacy."
Damian stayed quiet. He wondered if Talia knew how miserable this life made him.
"Just admit you are doing his bidding", Damian said, "Just like you have always done."
Talia was quiet for a while. Thinking.
"I am doing his bidding to keep you safe, Damian", Talia said, "Your Grandfather will never accept your rebellion. And he would have taken care of Grayson the moment he knew about him. I simply accelerated the process."
"You killed an innocent man", Damian turned around, glaring at her.
Talia's face was carefully blank: "I did and I would do it again because it was what you needed."
She leaned forward and kissed Damian on the forehead. Damian scrunched up his face, glaring at her.
"I had to do even more to keep your Grandfather satisfied for now. I promised him Cassandra Cain."
Damian scoffed: "Cain is too capable for you to catch."
"I know", Talia righted Damian's bed, "That's why I sent the Cheshire Cat after her."
Damian stared at Talia: "Mother, cease this immediately. Leave Cain alone. She spared my life. This should mean something to you."
"It does", Talia stood up, "That's why I convinced your Grandfather to recruit Cain rather than kill her."
Damian felt angry tears in his eyes. Cain would be the next to suffer because of him. Only because she had shown him a sliver of kindness. It wasn't fair. Damian turned around again. Staring at the wall.
Talia locked the door behind him.
The jungle around her was alive. Birds rustled through the leaves. Mosquitoes buzzed and plants grew up the stems of the trees. Cassandra Cain listened – trying to blend out the excessive noise. But her pursuer was as silent as her. It irked Cass.
The Cheshire Cat seemed to feel at home in the Vietnamese jungle. Cass had caught glimpses of her mask. The wide smile painted on it. The mask irked her, too. It gave her less to read from Cheshire.
Cheshire's green garb blended perfectly into the jungle. Her body spoke of concentration and focus. She held up her Sai, her arms tense. Every step was measured and surefooted. The cat was accompanied by three assassins who were as focused as her.
Her father had listed the most dangerous fighters of the world, preparing her for each of them. Lady Shiva, Richard Dragon, Bronze Tiger. Cass had seen videos of each of them, learned their moves and how to counter them. Cheshire wasn't as high up the list as those legendary fighters but still dangerous in her unique way.
Cass heard her father's warning in her ears: "The Cheshire Cat is deceiving. Poisonous. Do not underestimate."
Usually, Cass could lose Cheshire. But she was tired. The hunt had been a long one. Cass had evaded the League of Assassins for months. Her flight had brought her to jungles, abandoned villages and quiet beaches. The cities were the worst. Loud places where people talked with words instead of their bodies. Cass only understood slivers of those words. She only went to the cities when she needed to steal supplies. It had been a long time since she had been able to get supplies.
Cass stumbled over a branch. She froze for a second. Cassandra Cain never stumbled. Her father had made sure of that, beaten any mistake out of her. Cass was faltering. And it would be her death if Cheshire continued their cat-and-mouse game for too long. Cheshire seemed to know of Cass' weakness from her surefooted pursuit.
Cass wiped sweat from her forehead. The thought of Cheshire getting to her- No. Never. She didn't know what the League planned with her but she could imagine. Either kill or use her to kill. They would try to make her kill. And Cass couldn't. Not after she had read the fear and desperation in her first and only victim. The pure pain before death had set in by her blade. It had been visceral. Cass had felt it herself. A piercing ache in her chest as life drained from the man's eyes.
Cass would never kill again. Running had been her only choice. Before her father could make her kill more people. Blood already tainted her hands and Cass knew she would never be able to wash it off.
Cheshire came closer. Cass could feel her.
She needed to strike before the cat had forced the last of her energy out of her. So, Cass hid in the gap between two giant boulders and waited. Cheshire came closer. The same surefooted walk. No beat missed.
Cheshire halted directly in front of the rocks. She knew that Cass was there. Her weapon – the Sai - flew through the air, but Cass dodged. It embedded itself in the rock behind her.
The Cat said something. She was arrogant. Gloating. But Cass had no time to focus on words.
Two of the assassins lunged at Cass. One ready to strike. Another ready to kick. Cass ducked and rolled between their legs. Strike at the side of the knee. Hear a crack. One down.
Other's hand twitches. About to raise katana. Strike down on kicked the katana out of his hand. His hand cracked. Broken. He screamed. In pain. Angry. Glaring at her.
He tried to hit her with multiple blows but Cass evaded like water. Kick to his shoulder. Another crack. Broken collarbone. Both his arms useless. More rage.
Cass took out the young al Ghul's katana. The one she had taken from him as a reminder. A reminder that Cass could be kind. She didn't need to kill. Her father was wrong. It wasn't in her blood.
Cass saw the lethal places on the second assassin's body. Arteries to cut. Nerve to strikes. Organs to pierce. Cass struck him with the katana. Stomach. Evading organs. Painful but not lethal. Second assassin down.
A kick against her hand. Quick. Out of nowhere. Cheshire. Cass lost the katana. Her only weapon. Cass hadn't seen. Why hadn't she seen? Cheshire was quick – usually too slow for Cass. But not today. Today Cass was weak. Exhausted. She was faltering. She couldn't allow herself to falter.
Third assassin jumped down on her. Had hid in tree. Cass rolled to the side. She needed distance. She jumped back onto the rock. Gain distance. Cheshire was about to lunge at her. Third assassin, too. Cass pulled the Sai out of the rock. Only weapon. She flipped over both opponents. More space. A moment to catch her breath. Regain her strength.
Cheshire sent a kick to Cass' head. Another blow. Brutal. Quick. Cass evaded. She could read Cheshire. She could end this. Kick to Cheshire's knee. Cheshire down for a moment. A moment was enough.
Third assassin quick. Quicker than other assassins. Too slow for Cass. She threw the Sai at his shoulder. He went down.
Only Cheshire left. Cass turned to her. But the Cat was smiling behind the mask. Cass could see it from a twitch at her neck. Cass frowned. Not understanding. Why was the Cat smiling?
Then, something screamed in her mind: PAIN. The third assassin was writhing on the ground. Gasping for air. Trying to pull the Sai out of his arm. Unsuccessful.
Cass fell down next to him. She ripped off his mask. Seeing his face. Foam came out of his mouth and his eyes were bloodshot. Tense forehead. Twitching nerve on his throat. He was dying. Cass ripped out the Sai. Staring at it.
"Poisonous", her father's voice echoed in her mind.
The Cat had tricked her. She had tricked Cass into killing. Cass couldn't kill. She couldn't bear it. The desperate gaps for air. The pain. Cass shook the man's body. Trying to make him stop. To make him whole again. But he barely moved.
Cass covered her ears with her hands. Pushed her eyes shut. She couldn't hear. Couldn't see. Didn't want to.
Something pricked Cass in the neck. She looked up. The Cat was above her with a syringe. She was smiling behind the mask. Gloating at her triumph. Cass felt herself grow tired. Weak. She fell to the ground her eyes closing.
Their merry band of misfits was sitting around a table. Bruce had drawn blueprints of the headquarters of the League of Assassins from memory. Steph was impressed by his eye for detail.
Oracle went over the plans again. She asked Bruce about every detail he recalled, especially the tech.
"So", Steph leaned forward, "What is the plan?"
Oracle righted her glasses: "Three teams. One takes Dick's body and throws it into the Pit – which is close to the main building. The second team infiltrates the headquarter, disguises themselves as assassins and puts one of the flash-drives into the League's computers. I will be able to hack their headquarters and allow the second team to get Damian. The third team waits outside to give back-up to Alpha and Beta if needed."
"I'm chucking Dick's body into that pool", Jason said, "No discussion."
Oracle nodded – already having expected Jason's request.
"I'm going with him", Bruce said, "I have the most experience with the Pits."
"All right", Oracle said, "You are Alpha."
"I'm Beta", Selina said, "Sneaking in is my thing."
"Beta, too", Huntress said, "I can answer in Arabic if needed."
"This makes you Gamma, Canary. You wait outside and give backup if they need it", Oracle was typing on her laptop, noting everything down.
Dinah shrugged: "Sure, I can make a good distraction."
"Where am I in this plan?", Stephanie asked.
Oracle looked up: "You are staying in Gotham. No discussion. The League is too dangerous."
Steph balled her fists: "This is bullshit, Oracle. I'm a member of the Birds of Prey just as you are. I deserve to go on missions with you."
"You are inexperienced, Spoiler."
"I found out where Damian was", Steph jumped up, "I'm useful. You need me."
"We do", Oracle said, "But not on this mission."
Steph glared at Oracle. Oracle stared calmly back behind her glasses.
"What about Canary?", Steph said, "Doesn't she deserve backup? Every other team has two."
"Canary can take care of herself."
"And I can't?"
"I didn't mean it like that, Spoiler", Oracle looked apologetic, "You are young-"
"And?", Steph pointed at Bruce, "This dipshit billionaire who can barely run up a flight of stairs is coming with you. What is keeping me if he can go?"
Oracle clammed her hands around her chair: "I'm not responsible for Bruce – but I am for you."
Steph was breathing heavily. Her fists shaking with rage.
Steph shook her head: "Then, trust me."
"I do."
"No, you don't. Otherwise, you would let me go."
Oracle took a deep breath: "Trust me on this. You don't want to risk yourself on this mission. Being in over your head never ends well."
Steph leaned forward, looking Oracle in the eye: "I have proved my abilities again and again. Maybe I am not the problem, but you are."
Steph stood up. She stormed out of the room feeling the need to punch something.
Steph found a punching bag to let out her rage. She screamed and kicked. Losing herself completely in the motions.
Someone came up beside her. Bruce. He watched her with crossed arms.
"Wait a second", Bruce shifted her foot to the side with his own, "Watch your stance. You'll be able to generate more power this way."
Steph continued punching. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that her changed stance had improved her punches. Steph was breathing heavily when she stopped.
"You know your stuff, don't you? About this vigilante thing?", Steph took off the boxing gloves.
"In my mind I know everything. My body is another issue."
"I noticed", Steph poked at the baby fat on Brucie's stomach, "Hey, you wanna spar?"
She expected him to express concern over her well-being. However, he stayed quiet and simply walked over to the mats. Steph frowned. An adult not treating her like a baby? That was new.
Steph was never one to be silent: "I expected you to express reservations about beating up a girl."
"I know what you are capable of, Stephanie", he said in what Steph would dub his Dad-voice, "And I've been beaten up by girls enough times. By my own daughter in fact."
Steph smiled imagining the guy in his vigilante get-up getting his ass handed to him. Maybe Wayne wasn't that bad. He seemed cool.
They circled each other. Steph could feel Wayne assessing her. The eyes of an experienced fighter. His body was anything but. Steph found it surprisingly easy to get him off-balance. The right push. A swish with her leg and he was down.
Bruce seemed frustrated but he continued with the single-mindedness of someone who was a vigilante in another life. Steph could see him improve. He became surer in his body and by the twelfth match, he managed to get her onto the mat.
Steph nodded. Bruce stood over there, breathing heavily. His face was so red that Steph feared he would collapse.
"How about a break?", Steph said.
"Batman doesn't take breaks", he said in a deep tone that Steph would dub his Batman-voice.
Steph poked Bruce's stomach again: "Yeah but this body needs them. Trust me."
Bruce growled in frustration, but he sat down on a bench taking a water bottle. Steph chugged one down in one go.
"So, I'm capable in your timeline?", Steph said.
Bruce nodded: "You were the only person to be Robin and Batgirl."
"A trailblazer as a Stephanie should be", Steph grinned – proud of her alternate self.
"Sure", Bruce said, "But you went by Spoiler lately. It's the identity you made. It fits your unique sense of humour."
Steph grinned. Wayne really wasn't that bad.
"So, I was a family friend?", Steph said.
Bruce nodded: "A close one. Especially for Tim and my daughter."
"I can't believe I dated that rich prick."
"Tim is a good kid", Bruce said.
"Why didn't you talk to him then?", Steph said, "I've heard about the Drake-kid from the papers. He's working at WE. You could visit him any day."
"He's safe there. Happy."
"Bullshit", Steph said, "I think you are just too chickenshit to talk to him."
"Maybe", Bruce shrugged, "But maybe it's better for him."
"Your other kids? Where are they?"
"Cassandra", Bruce said, "Damian mentioned meeting her. I'll try to find her once we have Dick and Damian back."
"Didn't you adopt another one? I think you have an adoption problem. Can you be addicted to adopting people?"
"Dick used to say that – and you, too. But Duke's situation is similar to Tim. He's happy in this new timeline and I won't disturb him."
Steph snickered, mumbling coward under her breath.
Bruce crossed his arms: "Sometimes, parents have to be cowards for the best of their children. Oracle understands that."
"Oracle is not my mom", Steph protested.
"She is responsible for you", Bruce shrugged, "She might as well be."
Steph moped. She crossed her arms – mirroring the position Bruce had struck earlier.
"Very mature, Stephanie", Bruce said.
"So, you are siding with Oracle on this?"
"I don't want any of you in danger. But I know how you kids are – wow this makes me sound so old. No one can tell you no. Don't you think I tried everything to keep Dick from becoming Robin back in the day? But he was slippery. I couldn't keep him in one place."
"Every version of Dick is a little shit", Steph said, "He talks all responsible, but he does what he wants. Mr. Social Worker my ass."
Bruce looked down at his hands: "I can't live without him. Not without any of them."
"You don't have to because we are going to get him back."
"We?"
"You're gonna stop me?", Steph looked up at Bruce, challenging him.
"I know it would be futile. Just be careful."
"Always." Never.
Bruce went to Wayne Enterprises after he had taken a shower. It was late already. Lucius was still in his office though working away at some files.
"LUCE", Bruce entered the office without knocking, "How you doing, old house?"
Lucius visibly cringed despite his best efforts to stay neutral.
"Mr. Wayne", Lucius' voice was dry, "How can I help you?"
"I'm taking the private jet to Asia", Bruce said, "Going partying with some models. Really hot babes. Certified playboy bunnies."
Bruce cringed at himself.
"That's great, Mr. Wayne", Lucius barely looked up from his stack of papers.
"Yeah. And you know how those bunnies can get. They have sharp claws. So, I need the right equipment, if you catch my drift."
"I do not", Lucius seemed frustrated, looking up from his papers.
Bruce put the plan for a new Batsuit on the table: "It's a costume party."
"I'm sure Mr. Pennyworth can-"
"I don't own a multi-million dollar tech company for nothing, Luce", Bruce said, "I want this done in three days. And make it tough so that the girls can claw at me all they want."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne", Lucius took the plans, "Anything else?"
"That was all, Luce", Bruce bumped Lucius' shoulder, "You're cool, man. Keeping it all together."
"Thank you, Mister Wayne. Have a good night", Lucius looked back down at his papers barely paying Bruce any mind.
Bruce left the office as quickly as he could to escape the awkwardness of this situation. Poor Lucius. Bruce would need to give him a raise – several raises.
Bruce was so eager to leave Lucius' office that he ran into someone. That someone held a gigantic stack of papers in his hand and dropped them all.
"Hey man", Bruce said.
He dropped the Brucie-façade as soon as he had seen who he had run into. Shit.
Tim Drake looked up, his face turning red: "Mr. Wayne. I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry, Tim", Bruce crouched to pick up the papers, "It's my fault."
Tim frowned at Bruce's shift in behaviour.
"Are you all right, Mr. Wayne?"
"Couldn't be better." Bruce was terrible. His son was dead and his other son was directly in front of him but Bruce couldn't-
"What are you doing here, Timbo?"
"Working", Tim said.
"It's Friday-night. Shouldn't an intelligent young man like you have a date?"
Tim blushed even more: "Not really. And my parents are in Cambodia on a digging side. So, there isn't really anyone there."
"That's a shame."
Bruce warned himself to not get too close. Tim was safe in this timeline which was the bare minimum standard Bruce had for his kids at this point. Cassandra and Damian were far below this line. Jason was skittering along it. And Dick was… dead. Bruce's record with his kids was terrible so he couldn't risk Tim.
"They are very busy people", Tim didn't sound convinced himself.
"How about meeting up with some friends?"
Tim frowned. He was thinking about what to say and how to package it for Bruce. Bruce had the sneaking suspicion that Tim was a very lonely person. Of course, he was. He was the same boy who had gone out night for night with his camera to follow Batman and Robin in Bruce's original timeline. No one had noticed and no one had apparently cared enough. Hopefully, Tim had found someone who cared in the last few years.
Tim forced himself to speak: "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Mr. Wayne, but my social life shouldn't be your concern."
"Of course, Tim", Bruce stood up and pushed the papers into his arms.
He had been stupid. Thinking he could somehow get close to Tim. He needed to stop any attempts now. Tim may be lonely but at least he wasn't in mortal danger. Loneliness could be solved. Death by association with Bruce was a lost cause.
So, Bruce dropped it and left Tim behind. He had three days to get as much into shape as he could.
Three days later, Stephanie sneaked onto the private jet to Nanda Parbat. She hid in the bathroom. They were far above the Atlantic by the time she was discovered.