Being home sick yesterday ended up being productive for me. Thanks to Patty
for a quick beta last night. I hope you all enjoy. Char :-)
REDEMPTION: PART 9:
Robin pulled the two children from underneath the rubble as he heard the loud explosion behind him. He turned toward the harbor and felt his mouth drop at the sight of the Batplane consumed by a ball of fire. Yellow, orange and red flames shot high into the air. Robin pushed the two children toward their mother and ran toward the pier.
His breathing was heavy as he ran up the dock. "NOOOOOOOOO!"
Arsenal ran toward the site of the crash from the opposite end of Amusement Mile. His green eyes narrowed as he saw Robin readying to jump into the inferno that was Gotham Harbor. He grabbed Robin by the arm, preventing the boy from leaping out into the flames.
"I gotta go! I gotta try to save them! I've lost enough already ... I can't lose ..."
Arsenal pulled Robin to him. "I know," he said as he looked at the fireball in the harbor. "I know you have."
"Roy ... I gotta ... I can't ...."
A large grin formed on Arsenal's face. "You haven't. Look," he said as he turned Robin toward the dock.
Dick Grayson seemed to emerge from the fire. His long black coat flapping behind him like a cape. Batman under one arm and Batgirl under the other. He carried them with inhuman strength.
As he neared the two hero's, Robin ran to him. "Are they?"
"They'll be fine," he said stoically as Arsenal grabbed Batgirl from his arms. "Call Leslie and tell her we're coming home with wounded." Dick lifted Batman into both arms once Arsenal had Batgirl and they headed toward the car, Robin took the lead.
"What happened Robbie?" Arsenal asked as he looked at the unconscious girl in his arms. Her costume was ripped, her cowl barely hanging on her face.
"Joker. Joker's what happened. Again," Dick Grayson answered as a black crow flew past his head cawing.
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Leslie finished bandaging Cassandra's broken ribs. "You'll have to rest for a few days."
"Have work to do," the girl answered petulantly.
"Yes, all good little bats have hard heads," Leslie sighed as she patted the girls hand and moved to the next bed in the medical bay of the Cave. She stopped just short of the bed as her eyes fell once again upon the young man she had never thought she would see again. She still couldn't believe that it was Dick standing there holding Bruce's bandaged hand. Taking a deep breath, she continued over to her other patient. "And how is the hardest Bat head of all doing?"
"Funny," Bruce said gruffly as he looked up at her.
Leslie ran her hand through his thick black hair, stroking it off his forehead. "You were a lucky young man."
"Not so young," he said as he tried to sit up. His face was a mirror of pain as he tried. Unsuccessful, he stubbornly reclined, his throbbing head welcomed the pillow's embrace.
"That's a matter of opinion," Leslie said as she checked his wounds. "You realize you have a concussion."
"Umhm. Dick and I have to find the Joker."
Leslie stopped as she looked across the bed into the deep blue eyes of the man she thought they had buried a year ago. "I still can't believe --"
"Neither can I," Dick added. The he looked down at Bruce. "I have to stop the Joker. You have to rest and heal."
"No," Bruce barked. "We do this together."
"This is my fault, my responsibility," Dick countered. "I'm not letting anyone else get hurt because of me. NOT anymore."
Tim leaned in the doorjamb, his arms crossed, as he watched the scene play out before him. He turned and walked out into the cave. He didn't want to hear Dick and Bruce's same old argument. Even after death, some things never changed. He stopped and watched Roy Harper restocking his quiver. Tim walked over and propped his elbows on the counter. Then he sighed and slid down resting his head on his outstretched arms.
"They're all okay, Tim," Roy said as he continued to fill the quiver.
"This time," Tim countered.
Roy patted him on the back, "It will be okay."
"I'm not exactly sure I know what okay is anymore," Tim sighed.
"Neither do I," Roy added as he laid his quiver down on the table. "None of this has been easy for any of us Tim, least of all Dick. As hard as it was for us to lose him, think of what he lost when he was ripped from heaven and sent back here where its not fair or good but harsh and cold. Despite all that, he's fighting to do what's right just like we will and I know that we'll win in the end."
Tim turned to look at him, never lifting his head from his arms. "How do you know that?"
"Because we're the good guys, it works that way."
"Indeed," Alfred said announcing his presence. He watched as both young men gave him their full attention. "Master Roy, you have a telephone call upstairs ... from New Mexico."
Roy smiled, "Thanks Al." He patted Tim on the back and ran up the stairs. As he moved through the clock entrance in the study he let out a deep breath. He moved to the mahogany desk and picked up the flashing line. "This is Roy ... Thank you for calling me back. There's a situation here ... yes that's what I told the Chief. ... Well, what I need to know is ... how to kill a Crow?"
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Joker strutted into the office in the abandoned toy factory. He had piled discarded dolls, bears and soldiers to one side of the office opposite a large blackboard. Joker, clad in painter's smock and hat moved to the board and started drawing with colored chalk. A few minutes later he scrunched his face as he observed his work. Stepping back from the board, he shook his head. Joker stuck out his thumb toward the board, squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, Then he started back on the circular drawing. He labored meticulously on his sketch. As he drew, he mimicked the sound of explosions and flames under his breath. He drew until it was exactly what he wanted. His already wide grin spread even further across his face like a snake slithering across the ground.
"You see children," he started as he turned toward the inanimate toys. "All artists are never truly appreciated until after their deaths. I just decided to stick around for the accolades. Bwahahahaha."
Silently, the henchmen Joker had scared into working for him watched from the corner. "He ain't right," the short fat one said to the taller one.
"He never wuz, he's worse now."
"I heard that!" Joker yelled as he turned to face them, teddy bear in hand. "And it's soooooo true."
"So what're we gonna do boss?" the taller of the henchmen asked.
"Do? DO! Why that's what we're going to do," he responded, tossing the teddy bear in the air and pointing to the squiggly lines of white pink and orange chalk. "Bwahahaha." he moved to the center table and picked up the large boa constrictor. "You like it don't you?" Holding the snake to his ear his maniacal laughter echoed throughout the abandoned factory. "I knew you would.
Joker stood proudly looking at his handiwork. He then turned to look at the enormous snake in his arms. "You do? ... That's a very good idea." Joker walked back to the board and picked up the white chalk. Swiftly, he drew an upside down "W" at the bottom of the pinks and oranges. "Yes, that will be the perfect addition." Joker looked at the snake and back at the drawing. "It's not an M! It's a bird!" Joker turned rapidly and shot one of his henchmen. "You're right. He didn't appreciate it."
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Dick walked out of the medical bay leaving Leslie to tend to her patients. He saw Tim sitting at the computer and moved over leaning against the back of the large leather chair. "What'cha doing?"
Tim looked up and smiled. "Trying to see if I can find anything more out about Joker. I'm using that same site that I found the information out about ... you."
"Good idea." Straightening, Dick moved toward the uniform vault.
Tim, swiveling around in the chair, watched him. "You going to suit up?" he asked hopefully.
"No."
"Oh," Tim sighed.
"I am borrowing some equipment." Dick added as he took some batarangs and some compression grenades and placed them in his coat pocket. He took an earpiece so he could establish a comm link if necessary. Turning to leave, his attention was caught by the two trophy cases housing his and Jason's uniforms. He walked over and looked at the case surrounding his Nightwing suit. How long ago all that was. It had meant so much to him at one time and now ... now nothing mattered except protecting his family and taking down the Joker.
His eye wavered over to Jason's case. His hand pressed against the cold glass encasement. Sighing, Dick leaned his head over on the case. "She's with you now bro. Take care of her for me until I get there."
Tim drew his hand to his mouth as he watched Dick. This wasn't right or fair. Dick didn't deserve any of this. Tim bit his lip as he thought about how Dick must feel. Remembered what Roy had said and then felt the conflicting emotions in his heart, because despite everything he was happy to have Dick back. Dragging his hand under his nose, he stood up as he saw Dick return to the main body of the cave. "What are you going to do?"
"Stop Joker."
"Let me suit up and I'll go with --"
"NO! I'm going alone. I told Bruce and now I'm telling you. No one else I love is getting hurt because of my mistake. I made him, I'll destroy him. ALONE." Dick marched up the metal stairs beside the central computer and headed toward one of the motorcycles. Straddling the machine, he revved it to life and shot out of the cave like a bat out of hell. No. Dick corrected not a bat out of hell nor a crow out of hell. He left like the bullet that echoed in his mind. He shot out of the cave like that echoing bullet that sped from the Joker's gun and ended Barbara's life.
The crow flew out of the cave behind him and high into the Gotham night. Dick didn't know where he was going, but he knew his ultimate goal. Twisting the handles of his motorcycle, he sped up as he headed toward the city. The crow was slightly in front of him. As they approached the city, his vision suddenly blurred. Everything was red or black ... he was seeing through the eyes of the crow. The bird wanted him to follow him, to go somewhere. Gunning the motorcycle, Dick allowed the crow to lead him.
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"Any word?"
Commissioner Aiken looked up at his office door to see the head of the office's former occupant peeping in. "Come in Jim."
"Have you found out anything about Joker?"
"Not since he was seen at Amusement Mile earlier today. If that was Joker, which I find hard to believe. joker was taken to the morgue in a bodybag. People just don't get up and walk away from that."
Jim sat in the red leather chair across the desk from his successor. "So you think it's a copycat?"
"Makes sense. Another nut job has a thing about Joker, hears he's been killed, so he steals the body to make it seem that Joker was still alive."
Jim nodded. It was the logical answer, but his gut told him different. Told him that monster was still running loose on these streets. To terrorize and destroy, just like Joker had done to his family ... his Sarah and his Barbara. "Harley Quinn. Has anyone found her?"
Aiken stood from the desk and moved to the window. "We've been keeping this from the press, but I know I can trust you Jim. Harley's body was found partial eaten by her hyenas two days ago."
Jim closed his eyes. That was a very Joker like thing to do. "The press said ... Batman's plane went down. Have you ... have you --"
"We haven't heard from him Jim. The only hope I can offer is we haven't recovered any bodies and you know how resilient he is."
Gordon nodded again, while his gut told him that things were about to get worse for Gotham. Silently he prayed that Batman ... or someone ... would protect them from the fiend in the night.
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Tim stretched. His muscles were knotted from sitting before the computer. He walked toward the med bay as he continued stretching his arms around his head. As he entered the medical bay he froze. Bruce's bed was empty. "What the -- "
"I'm here."
Tim whirled behind him to see Bruce, cowl in hand, walking towards him. "How'd you get around me out there? Never mind," he said as he held his hand up. "Where do you think you're going?"
"After Joker."
"The hell you are," Tim yelled. "You've got a concussion, broken ribs, a fractured wrist, you're not going anywhere."
Bruce turned and started to put the cowl on.
"Hell no you don't! Aren't you listening to me! I am not having you do this. At least ... not alone."
"No," Bruce said turning back to face the boy before him. The boy that was rapidly growing into a man. His jaw flexed as he looked at Tim. "You stay here. Joker's ... more unpredictable than ever, more dangerous. I won't risk your -- "
"Geezus you sound just like Dick! Well, listen up! You are not leaving this cave without me. I let Dick, not that I could stop him, but I'm not letting you."
"Like you could stop me?" he asked, his mouth twitching upwards ever so slightly.
"In your present condition, I think I might. I'll get Roy and -- "
"Master Roy is not here."
Both Bruce and Tim turned toward the sound of Alfred's voice. Tim was the one who spoke. "Gone. Where'd Roy go? What is up with everyone here? Has everyone watched too many Lone Ranger episodes?"
"Master Roy left I would say thirty minutes ago. He wasn't very forthcoming with his plans, however it is notable that he was dressed all in black."
Tim stalked around in a circle. "First Dick runs off all crowy, then Roy going all ninja black and tight mouthed leaving. Now you," Tim spun back toward Bruce pointing at him. "You're not leaving me behind."
Bruce's jaw flexed again. Then, he put the cowl on and said, "Coming?"
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Dick walked back into Barbara's apartment. Why had the crow led him here? Obviously, Joker wasn't here and wasn't that what he needed to be doing? Finding Joker, stopping him from killing more people. Why did he need to be here? Here where it all happened ... where they both suffered so much pain. He looked at the broken glass. No one had been allowed to clean. It was frozen in time memorial to the dead. He walked through the too quiet rooms. As he moved into the kitchen he cocked his head.
Their glasses ... their wine glasses from dinner that night still sat on the counter where he had moved them after dinner. The leftover wine in them had long ago evaporated, only a dry residue remained caked to the bottom of the glasses. A shakey hand reached out and touched the glass.
It was as if an electric shock went through his body. Laughter. He could hear her laughter as they ate dinner. The clinking of their wine glasses in toast to Babs' successful hack into MI-5's databases to see if they actually had an agent assigned to the number '007'. He could smell her perfume mixed with the scent of her bath lotions and shampoo. It was her scent, and the thought of it made his heart cry out for her.
Violently, he flung the wine glass across the room, the threw it's mate behind it. The sound of their crashing into the wall resounded in his ear. Dick ran to the window where he had fell to his death and stepped out on the ledge. "WHY????" he screamed up at the heavens. "WHY?" He paused as he stared at the distant street below. What would happen if he threw himself off again? Would he feel it? Would he die again? Or would he simply get up and walk away?
"I can't answer that Dick."
He froze. He was sure he wasn't breathing, that his heart wasn't beating. Slowly, he turned around. "Barbara?"
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
REDEMPTION: PART 9:
Robin pulled the two children from underneath the rubble as he heard the loud explosion behind him. He turned toward the harbor and felt his mouth drop at the sight of the Batplane consumed by a ball of fire. Yellow, orange and red flames shot high into the air. Robin pushed the two children toward their mother and ran toward the pier.
His breathing was heavy as he ran up the dock. "NOOOOOOOOO!"
Arsenal ran toward the site of the crash from the opposite end of Amusement Mile. His green eyes narrowed as he saw Robin readying to jump into the inferno that was Gotham Harbor. He grabbed Robin by the arm, preventing the boy from leaping out into the flames.
"I gotta go! I gotta try to save them! I've lost enough already ... I can't lose ..."
Arsenal pulled Robin to him. "I know," he said as he looked at the fireball in the harbor. "I know you have."
"Roy ... I gotta ... I can't ...."
A large grin formed on Arsenal's face. "You haven't. Look," he said as he turned Robin toward the dock.
Dick Grayson seemed to emerge from the fire. His long black coat flapping behind him like a cape. Batman under one arm and Batgirl under the other. He carried them with inhuman strength.
As he neared the two hero's, Robin ran to him. "Are they?"
"They'll be fine," he said stoically as Arsenal grabbed Batgirl from his arms. "Call Leslie and tell her we're coming home with wounded." Dick lifted Batman into both arms once Arsenal had Batgirl and they headed toward the car, Robin took the lead.
"What happened Robbie?" Arsenal asked as he looked at the unconscious girl in his arms. Her costume was ripped, her cowl barely hanging on her face.
"Joker. Joker's what happened. Again," Dick Grayson answered as a black crow flew past his head cawing.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----
Leslie finished bandaging Cassandra's broken ribs. "You'll have to rest for a few days."
"Have work to do," the girl answered petulantly.
"Yes, all good little bats have hard heads," Leslie sighed as she patted the girls hand and moved to the next bed in the medical bay of the Cave. She stopped just short of the bed as her eyes fell once again upon the young man she had never thought she would see again. She still couldn't believe that it was Dick standing there holding Bruce's bandaged hand. Taking a deep breath, she continued over to her other patient. "And how is the hardest Bat head of all doing?"
"Funny," Bruce said gruffly as he looked up at her.
Leslie ran her hand through his thick black hair, stroking it off his forehead. "You were a lucky young man."
"Not so young," he said as he tried to sit up. His face was a mirror of pain as he tried. Unsuccessful, he stubbornly reclined, his throbbing head welcomed the pillow's embrace.
"That's a matter of opinion," Leslie said as she checked his wounds. "You realize you have a concussion."
"Umhm. Dick and I have to find the Joker."
Leslie stopped as she looked across the bed into the deep blue eyes of the man she thought they had buried a year ago. "I still can't believe --"
"Neither can I," Dick added. The he looked down at Bruce. "I have to stop the Joker. You have to rest and heal."
"No," Bruce barked. "We do this together."
"This is my fault, my responsibility," Dick countered. "I'm not letting anyone else get hurt because of me. NOT anymore."
Tim leaned in the doorjamb, his arms crossed, as he watched the scene play out before him. He turned and walked out into the cave. He didn't want to hear Dick and Bruce's same old argument. Even after death, some things never changed. He stopped and watched Roy Harper restocking his quiver. Tim walked over and propped his elbows on the counter. Then he sighed and slid down resting his head on his outstretched arms.
"They're all okay, Tim," Roy said as he continued to fill the quiver.
"This time," Tim countered.
Roy patted him on the back, "It will be okay."
"I'm not exactly sure I know what okay is anymore," Tim sighed.
"Neither do I," Roy added as he laid his quiver down on the table. "None of this has been easy for any of us Tim, least of all Dick. As hard as it was for us to lose him, think of what he lost when he was ripped from heaven and sent back here where its not fair or good but harsh and cold. Despite all that, he's fighting to do what's right just like we will and I know that we'll win in the end."
Tim turned to look at him, never lifting his head from his arms. "How do you know that?"
"Because we're the good guys, it works that way."
"Indeed," Alfred said announcing his presence. He watched as both young men gave him their full attention. "Master Roy, you have a telephone call upstairs ... from New Mexico."
Roy smiled, "Thanks Al." He patted Tim on the back and ran up the stairs. As he moved through the clock entrance in the study he let out a deep breath. He moved to the mahogany desk and picked up the flashing line. "This is Roy ... Thank you for calling me back. There's a situation here ... yes that's what I told the Chief. ... Well, what I need to know is ... how to kill a Crow?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----
Joker strutted into the office in the abandoned toy factory. He had piled discarded dolls, bears and soldiers to one side of the office opposite a large blackboard. Joker, clad in painter's smock and hat moved to the board and started drawing with colored chalk. A few minutes later he scrunched his face as he observed his work. Stepping back from the board, he shook his head. Joker stuck out his thumb toward the board, squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, Then he started back on the circular drawing. He labored meticulously on his sketch. As he drew, he mimicked the sound of explosions and flames under his breath. He drew until it was exactly what he wanted. His already wide grin spread even further across his face like a snake slithering across the ground.
"You see children," he started as he turned toward the inanimate toys. "All artists are never truly appreciated until after their deaths. I just decided to stick around for the accolades. Bwahahahaha."
Silently, the henchmen Joker had scared into working for him watched from the corner. "He ain't right," the short fat one said to the taller one.
"He never wuz, he's worse now."
"I heard that!" Joker yelled as he turned to face them, teddy bear in hand. "And it's soooooo true."
"So what're we gonna do boss?" the taller of the henchmen asked.
"Do? DO! Why that's what we're going to do," he responded, tossing the teddy bear in the air and pointing to the squiggly lines of white pink and orange chalk. "Bwahahaha." he moved to the center table and picked up the large boa constrictor. "You like it don't you?" Holding the snake to his ear his maniacal laughter echoed throughout the abandoned factory. "I knew you would.
Joker stood proudly looking at his handiwork. He then turned to look at the enormous snake in his arms. "You do? ... That's a very good idea." Joker walked back to the board and picked up the white chalk. Swiftly, he drew an upside down "W" at the bottom of the pinks and oranges. "Yes, that will be the perfect addition." Joker looked at the snake and back at the drawing. "It's not an M! It's a bird!" Joker turned rapidly and shot one of his henchmen. "You're right. He didn't appreciate it."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----
Dick walked out of the medical bay leaving Leslie to tend to her patients. He saw Tim sitting at the computer and moved over leaning against the back of the large leather chair. "What'cha doing?"
Tim looked up and smiled. "Trying to see if I can find anything more out about Joker. I'm using that same site that I found the information out about ... you."
"Good idea." Straightening, Dick moved toward the uniform vault.
Tim, swiveling around in the chair, watched him. "You going to suit up?" he asked hopefully.
"No."
"Oh," Tim sighed.
"I am borrowing some equipment." Dick added as he took some batarangs and some compression grenades and placed them in his coat pocket. He took an earpiece so he could establish a comm link if necessary. Turning to leave, his attention was caught by the two trophy cases housing his and Jason's uniforms. He walked over and looked at the case surrounding his Nightwing suit. How long ago all that was. It had meant so much to him at one time and now ... now nothing mattered except protecting his family and taking down the Joker.
His eye wavered over to Jason's case. His hand pressed against the cold glass encasement. Sighing, Dick leaned his head over on the case. "She's with you now bro. Take care of her for me until I get there."
Tim drew his hand to his mouth as he watched Dick. This wasn't right or fair. Dick didn't deserve any of this. Tim bit his lip as he thought about how Dick must feel. Remembered what Roy had said and then felt the conflicting emotions in his heart, because despite everything he was happy to have Dick back. Dragging his hand under his nose, he stood up as he saw Dick return to the main body of the cave. "What are you going to do?"
"Stop Joker."
"Let me suit up and I'll go with --"
"NO! I'm going alone. I told Bruce and now I'm telling you. No one else I love is getting hurt because of my mistake. I made him, I'll destroy him. ALONE." Dick marched up the metal stairs beside the central computer and headed toward one of the motorcycles. Straddling the machine, he revved it to life and shot out of the cave like a bat out of hell. No. Dick corrected not a bat out of hell nor a crow out of hell. He left like the bullet that echoed in his mind. He shot out of the cave like that echoing bullet that sped from the Joker's gun and ended Barbara's life.
The crow flew out of the cave behind him and high into the Gotham night. Dick didn't know where he was going, but he knew his ultimate goal. Twisting the handles of his motorcycle, he sped up as he headed toward the city. The crow was slightly in front of him. As they approached the city, his vision suddenly blurred. Everything was red or black ... he was seeing through the eyes of the crow. The bird wanted him to follow him, to go somewhere. Gunning the motorcycle, Dick allowed the crow to lead him.
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"Any word?"
Commissioner Aiken looked up at his office door to see the head of the office's former occupant peeping in. "Come in Jim."
"Have you found out anything about Joker?"
"Not since he was seen at Amusement Mile earlier today. If that was Joker, which I find hard to believe. joker was taken to the morgue in a bodybag. People just don't get up and walk away from that."
Jim sat in the red leather chair across the desk from his successor. "So you think it's a copycat?"
"Makes sense. Another nut job has a thing about Joker, hears he's been killed, so he steals the body to make it seem that Joker was still alive."
Jim nodded. It was the logical answer, but his gut told him different. Told him that monster was still running loose on these streets. To terrorize and destroy, just like Joker had done to his family ... his Sarah and his Barbara. "Harley Quinn. Has anyone found her?"
Aiken stood from the desk and moved to the window. "We've been keeping this from the press, but I know I can trust you Jim. Harley's body was found partial eaten by her hyenas two days ago."
Jim closed his eyes. That was a very Joker like thing to do. "The press said ... Batman's plane went down. Have you ... have you --"
"We haven't heard from him Jim. The only hope I can offer is we haven't recovered any bodies and you know how resilient he is."
Gordon nodded again, while his gut told him that things were about to get worse for Gotham. Silently he prayed that Batman ... or someone ... would protect them from the fiend in the night.
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Tim stretched. His muscles were knotted from sitting before the computer. He walked toward the med bay as he continued stretching his arms around his head. As he entered the medical bay he froze. Bruce's bed was empty. "What the -- "
"I'm here."
Tim whirled behind him to see Bruce, cowl in hand, walking towards him. "How'd you get around me out there? Never mind," he said as he held his hand up. "Where do you think you're going?"
"After Joker."
"The hell you are," Tim yelled. "You've got a concussion, broken ribs, a fractured wrist, you're not going anywhere."
Bruce turned and started to put the cowl on.
"Hell no you don't! Aren't you listening to me! I am not having you do this. At least ... not alone."
"No," Bruce said turning back to face the boy before him. The boy that was rapidly growing into a man. His jaw flexed as he looked at Tim. "You stay here. Joker's ... more unpredictable than ever, more dangerous. I won't risk your -- "
"Geezus you sound just like Dick! Well, listen up! You are not leaving this cave without me. I let Dick, not that I could stop him, but I'm not letting you."
"Like you could stop me?" he asked, his mouth twitching upwards ever so slightly.
"In your present condition, I think I might. I'll get Roy and -- "
"Master Roy is not here."
Both Bruce and Tim turned toward the sound of Alfred's voice. Tim was the one who spoke. "Gone. Where'd Roy go? What is up with everyone here? Has everyone watched too many Lone Ranger episodes?"
"Master Roy left I would say thirty minutes ago. He wasn't very forthcoming with his plans, however it is notable that he was dressed all in black."
Tim stalked around in a circle. "First Dick runs off all crowy, then Roy going all ninja black and tight mouthed leaving. Now you," Tim spun back toward Bruce pointing at him. "You're not leaving me behind."
Bruce's jaw flexed again. Then, he put the cowl on and said, "Coming?"
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Dick walked back into Barbara's apartment. Why had the crow led him here? Obviously, Joker wasn't here and wasn't that what he needed to be doing? Finding Joker, stopping him from killing more people. Why did he need to be here? Here where it all happened ... where they both suffered so much pain. He looked at the broken glass. No one had been allowed to clean. It was frozen in time memorial to the dead. He walked through the too quiet rooms. As he moved into the kitchen he cocked his head.
Their glasses ... their wine glasses from dinner that night still sat on the counter where he had moved them after dinner. The leftover wine in them had long ago evaporated, only a dry residue remained caked to the bottom of the glasses. A shakey hand reached out and touched the glass.
It was as if an electric shock went through his body. Laughter. He could hear her laughter as they ate dinner. The clinking of their wine glasses in toast to Babs' successful hack into MI-5's databases to see if they actually had an agent assigned to the number '007'. He could smell her perfume mixed with the scent of her bath lotions and shampoo. It was her scent, and the thought of it made his heart cry out for her.
Violently, he flung the wine glass across the room, the threw it's mate behind it. The sound of their crashing into the wall resounded in his ear. Dick ran to the window where he had fell to his death and stepped out on the ledge. "WHY????" he screamed up at the heavens. "WHY?" He paused as he stared at the distant street below. What would happen if he threw himself off again? Would he feel it? Would he die again? Or would he simply get up and walk away?
"I can't answer that Dick."
He froze. He was sure he wasn't breathing, that his heart wasn't beating. Slowly, he turned around. "Barbara?"
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
