Notes and disclaimer in part one.

Author's Notes: As a warning, the postings may be a tad slower just because I've reached the part of the story that has a few places I want to work through. What can I say, working to tie up lose ends can be tedious. Also, this is the end of part one (Harder to Breathe) and the next series of postings till the end are going to take place in part two (What Remains).

Here ya go…

Masquerade

Part eight

Everything within the small cabin happened in a blur of movement and sound.

Tim closed his eyes as the hammer fell on the gun and waited for the inevitable pain to consume him. What he got, however, was utterly unexpected.

As the sound of the gunshot echoed in the cabin, another although different, but just as loud, sound reverberating throughout the room. Both Tim and Hal jumped as splintered wood exploded inwards spraying the cabin and its occupants. Hal turned his attention away from the prone teenager and barely had a moment to register another being in the room before a black body slammed into him. Hal felt his legs fly out from under him and his back slam on the ground. Instinct took over, and the larger man attempted to raise his gun in protection, but the weapon was swiftly kicked out of his hand. The next thing Hal saw was a black glove careening towards his face and then darkness claimed him.

Looking down at the unconscious man, Nightwing resisted the urge to try and locate Tim. Dick had to make sure all threats were first taken care of and allow Batman the privilege of dealing with the younger man. Tying Hal up, Nightwing moved into the adjacent bedroom and gave a contented smile as he noticed another goon unconscious.

Atta boy, Tim. Dick secured the other man and stepped back into the main cabin. He slowly moved to examine the scene before him.

Tim laid on the ground with Batman crouched next to him. The Dark Knight looking like nothing more than a black shadow as his cape fell over his body and swirled like liquid on the ground. Nightwing stepped closer mentally berating himself for not noticing Tim earlier when he had flown in through the exploded window. Then again, Dick realized, after the smoke had cleared enough for Nightwing to move inside, the first thing that had caught his eye was the larger henchman standing with a gun in hand.

Suddenly, as if someone had punch him in the stomach, Dick felt all breathe leave his body. The scene of Hal standing by the window with gun in hand replayed in Nightwing's mind and he realized that the larger man had been aiming at Tim. Mentally praying, Dick moved closer to Batman and hoped with every ounce of his being, that he had been in time to stop any sort of damage to Tim.

Something deep inside of Dick, however, warned him that he hadn't been in time.

…….

Tim felt his eyes instinctively close and arms move to cover his face as the explosion shook the small cabin. Even as he was protecting himself, Tim had to smile. The cavalry has arrived, he thought as a blur of black flew next to him and connected solidly with Hal. The young man watched as Nightwing tackled the larger man to the ground. His attention did not stay long on Dick, though, for another presence entered through the now useless window. Tim looked up into the intimidating cowl of Batman.

The teenager opened his mouth to speak, but as he drew in breathe a sudden wave of fire twisted its way into Tim's stomach. The young man gasped loudly and felt his heart begin to beat erratically. The agony only intensified and Tim felt darkness close in on him. Fighting the urge to close his eyes, the young man looked up again into the starlit lens of Bruce and noticed the man was now crouched next to him.

"You've been shot." It was a point-blank statement of fact and Tim felt a small feeling of warmth spread in him. Bruce, for all intensive purposes, was a man of business and it was somehow a strange comfort to realize some things never changed.

The comfort, however, passed quickly, as Batman placed pressure over the bullet wound. Tim gritted his teeth against the increase of pain that flowed through his body.

"Where?" He managed to spit out through his clenched jaw.

Bruce looked up and over his shoulder and Tim wondered briefly if he had asked the question out loud.

"Lower abdomen," Batman answered as he turned his head back to the prone teenager. Tim opened his mouth to speak again, to ask how bad it was, when Nightwing moved into his vision, having come over after making eye contact with Bruce. Dick paid no attention to Batman's work and instead shared a large smile with Tim.

"Hey kiddo, nice work in the bedroom."

Tim weakly smiled suddenly grateful for Dick's attempts to take his attention away from the havoc being wrecked on his body. "Thanks," the teenager said and opened his mouth to add more, but Dick placed a gloved gauntlet on the younger man's face.

"Don't talk," Nightwing said and spared a look at Bruce, who was working to staunch the bleeding from Tim's wound. Dick felt bile rise in his throat as he watched the young man's blood flow out of him like water while he was powerless to stop it. Nightwing, and even Dick Grayson, had seen plenty of gunshot wounds in his life, but he swore that he'd never seen one bleed as badly as this one.

"Dick?" Came the hushed voice of Tim, which stole Nightwing's attention from Bruce's work.

"Yeah?" Nightwing asked not even abiding by his own suggestion that Tim not speak.

The teenager swallowed and his eyelids dropped dangerously close to closing. The pain that only moments ago riddled his body now seemed very far away. The teenager felt his mind fill with a hazy whiteness and struggled to get his sentence out. "Tell my dad I love him."

Then Tim took a deep breath, looked once more with unrelenting clarity into Dick's mask, and fell unconscious.

"Tim?" Nightwing gently slapped the young man's face. "Tim?" There was no response.

Dick looked back at Bruce. The older man did not look up from the wound he was desperately working on. There was only so much that Bruce could do right here and now. He needed better medical aid; he needed better equipment. He needed the Bat Cave. Looking up and meeting Nightwing's eyes, he said, "We have to move him now."

A calmness came over Dick that he'd experienced many times before in deadly circumstances. He had a job to do now and that job was to save his little brother's life. Nodding to Bruce, Dick stood and made his way out towards the Batmobile trusting that the two goons inside were contained and that Bruce could handle Tim.

As Nightwing moved to prepare the Batmobile for Tim, he activated his comm-link and instantly heard Barbara voice.

"What happened?" She asked with worry painting her voice.

Dick looked over his shoulder as Batman carried Tim's prone and bleeding form from the cabin. "We found Tim. He's hurt pretty badly and we're taking him to the Cave for medical treatment." Dick stepped aside and waited as Bruce lowered Tim into the passenger's side of the Batmobile. "I'll update you on the status once we're back at the Cave. Call Alfred and tell him to be ready for a GSW to the lower abdomen." Nightwing disconnected the link content to know that Barbara would do the work that needed to be done and also knowing that currently he wasn't up to answering any questions.

Batman moved to the driver's side and, as he lowered himself in, spoke to Dick.

"Meet us at the Cave." It was a rather idiotic thing for Bruce to say Dick thought to himself as he watched the Batmobile tear off towards the Bat Cave. Of course he'd come to stay by his little brother's side! Nightwing looked back into the cabin and thought it was strangely quiet now and it didn't seem that all the drama, which just occurred, could have happened in such seemingly peaceful place. Shaking his head, Dick placed the call into the Gotham Police about the men and then mounted the bike he'd taken out to the cabin.

To Dick, the trip back to the Bat Cave never seemed so long.

……

Jack hadn't moved from the floor when the phone rang again. He didn't have the energy to move and didn't want to listen to Gardenee brag about killing his son. So, he stayed on the floor and allowed Dana to answer it. A few minutes later, he heard her come running down the stairs. She slid on her knees in front of her husband grabbing him by the shoulders.

"They found him." She said as tears began to run down her face. "Bruce has Tim at his home and they're taking care of him." The anger from earlier was forgotten and Dana grabbed her husband in a hug. Although Tim wasn't her child, the love she felt for him was no less than any biological parent would have felt. And the relief at knowing that he was safe, knowing that he had been saved from death, was also just as strong. Jack could only hold his wife and cried along with her. His son was alive. It was an unimaginable thought for him to process. He'd all but buried his son after Gardenee called, but now… Timothy is alive! Jack's mind could process nothing more than that simple thought and he buried his face into Dana's shoulder, muttering: "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

To whom he was uttering the apology, however, he truly didn't know.

……

The Batmobile came to a screeching halt inside the Cave. Alfred had received the call from Barbara and prepared everything that was necessary for a gun shot wound, complete with placing in a call to Doctor Tompkins who, unfortunately, was out of town. As he waited, the butler couldn't help but hate the fact that he did know how to prepare himself and the Cave for such a terrible incident. During all his long years, Alfred patched more bullet holes then he cared to consider. He'd also seen his children come near death just as often. It was enough to make even the most resilient man exhausted.

And right now, Alfred was running low on energy.

As the Car opened up, Bruce flowed out with the cap trailing behind him. Moving quickly, he reached the other side and picked Tim gently up from the passenger side. Alfred watched Bruce move the teenager over to the prepared gurney and felt a sadness well up inside him. These people were his children.

And one was dying.

Shaking his head, the Englishman moved in step behind Bruce just as he heard the familiar roar of Dick's motorcycle. Nightwing jogged quickly to Batman and Alfred's side, though he remained slightly off to the side content to allow the older men work on Tim. It was as Dick stood watching his mentors work that his eyes fell on Tim's leg. Dick made a move forward in an attempt to understand why a white bed sheet was tied around the young boy's leg, when Bruce's voice stopped him.

"I saw that earlier, but it must be ignored for now."

Before Dick could say anything further, Alfred's voice stole his attention. "Grab some more gauze, please, Master Richard." The younger man obeyed the request and moved to help. Placing all gruesome thoughts of Tim's battered leg from his mind, Dick concentrated on the more important matter of the gunshot.

…….

In theory, the steps of keeping Tim alive were very basic. Remove the bullet, clean the wound, seal the wound and keep the wound clean to keep infection out. But, in reality, they were terribly difficult to do properly. Bruce and Alfred were as trained in the medical arts as most doctors and Dick knew he had more experience and training than the average person, but even with that, there was only so much they could do. Only so much loss of blood they could stop.

By the time they had the bullet removed and were working on securing the wound, Tim's coloring was sheet white. To Dick, he looked like the dead, as tacky of a comparison and it seemed. By the time the wound was closed, the three occupants could only sit back and stare at the teenager. They had done all that they currently could do and, actually, things had gone better than expected. Things had now turned into a waiting game once more. The three men all stood silently over Tim as if by merely watching him, the teenager would wake up and all would be well.

Knowing a watched pot never boiled, Alfred was the first to move away from the bedside of the young man, and gently began to pick up the bloody clothes and cloths that laid on the ground. It was disturbing work, but the butler did it without complainant. Once the bloody pieces from the floor were discarded, Alfred moved back to Tim's bed and laid soft blanket over the prone figure. As he was doing so, the butler spied a simple white sheet tied around Tim's leg that Dick had noticed earlier. Knowing there was nothing more they could do for the shooting wound, the butler decided to see what the sheet hid.

Removing it gentle, Alfred discovered the young man's left leg was one giant bruise that was a variety of colors ranging from red to yellow and then blue so deep it was nearly black. The Englishman looked closely at the injury and knew some sort of blunt object could only cause something of this magnitude.

Alfred turned to look at Bruce, who was staring at read-outs, and spoke. "Do you know what happen?" He questioned and watched the younger man look up and directly at Tim's leg.

"From the damage it looks like there was massive trauma done to it by something along the lines of a bat-"

"Or a hammer," Dick interrupted. Alfred and Bruce both turned to the younger man for something in his voice grabbed their attention. Dick, starring blankly at a wall, spoke without looking at either man. "There was a hammer in the bedroom where the other guy was. Like a smaller sledgehammer. I…I didn't think anything of it at the time." Now, younger man caught Bruce's gaze. "That had to be what did that."

Bruce looked back at Tim, but said nothing.

"Who would do such a thing?" Alfred questioned rhetorically.

No one in the Cave could offer an answer.

To Be Continued in Part Two: What Remains