The Crane and the Falcon

Chapter XVII

"That's why he has me!"

He had underestimated her. He, Ra's Al Ghul, had slipped up. This simple girl, a Falcone to boot, had thrown a wrench into his plans. And it seemed that she had helped that little weasel of a man Crane grow a spine. But nevertheless, he had underestimated her. She had won the battle, but she was going to lose the war.

The second her fist had sent the second attacker backwards, she was bombarded on all sides by a closing circle of League of Shadows members. They were no picnic, so to speak, and smart enough not to let go of Crane. He hung between them, watching helplessly. He almost felt like a spectator looking in on a violent ballet as he watched Sakura defend herself against the onslaught.

Her gun was not her only weapon. The six-inch knife in her boot was out in a moment and blood spilled onto the cement, covered a second later by a man with a slit jugular. She held the knife in her closed fist and moved her weight to the balls of her feet. "Let's go, boys," she laughed coldly, all thoughts of her surroundings and the circumstances gone. Adrenaline had taken hold. She was out of anyone's control.

The men reached for the machine guns that hung at their hips, anger flaring in their eyes. The quickest one had his gloved finger at the trigger, but Ra's did not intend on witnessing an unfair fight.

"No!" he barked, standing up quickly. The men looked to him quickly, awaiting more orders. "No guns. Make it a fair fight." It took them a moment of hesitation, but the guns fell to the ground.

"Do you guys always follow orders?" she snapped as they advanced. They each pulled a short samurai sword from the sheaths on their back, moving in slow, calculated waves. "Wonderful, you're making me feel right at home," she continued, eyeing the swords both eagerly and warily. She had extensive training in swordplay, but with only a knife on her side, her odds were slim.

The first struck like a viper, but the others hung back. Ra's had demanded a fair fight. They dare not go against their leader. Sakura parried his blow, forcing her knife up so it slid the length of the sword and wedged itself between the blade and the hilt. She struggled for a moment against the crushing strength he was forcing down on her before kneeing him so viciously in the groin even Jonathan winced. He buckled under the pain and she ripped the blade from his hands, decapitating him in the backstroke.

She looked up with a devilish smirk, now a sword was clutching in her hand, bruised from the first punch she threw. She knew she heard her knuckles crack and split. "Next," Sakura purred, glancing momentarily at Crane. He seemed alright. For now. But her mind returned to the task at hand and sank back into the disconnected state it resided in during a fight. She would let her body make all the decisions. Her mind would only cloud her focus and slow, or destroy, her victory. She took care of the third challenger, and fourth. Only one remained, aside from the men stubbornly holding Crane between them.

The last man, lankier, but seemingly more limber, than the others stepped forward, swiping his blade before him. The air seemed to sing as the sharp blade cut the air and Sakura copied his move perfectly, adding a small flourish to the end. The man returned her smirk, before, without warning, leaping at her like a starving dog. They tumbled to the ground, blades clashing and heads butting. He drew first blood and Sakura could feel the gash above her eye begin to sting. Her fingers wrapped around the black hilt and punched him square in the jaw, her reddened knuckles reinforced by the metal. A satisfying thunk greeted her ears, but was paired with a second, sickening crack. Her right hand was now rendered useless and she gasped in pain, resisting the instinct to drop her sword.

He spit blood and a few teeth onto the cement before straightening up. "Not so cocky now, eh?" he said with a Eurasian accent. Sakura moved herself backwards and into a stance she trusted, not rising to his trick of distracting wordplay. "I shall disperse of you quickly."

Jon struggled again against his captors, seeing Sakura was tiring and without her good sword hand, she would inevitably lose. "Sakura-," he choked against a beefy arm that locked around his neck, "No!" With the last word, he pulled his left wrist free of one of the men's grip and jabbed his free fingers into the man holding his neck's eyes. He roared in pain and staggered back, letting go of Crane.

Suddenly, he felt a throbbing pain as a fist collided with his cheek. He slunk to the ground, almost knocked unconscious.

Sakura couldn't help but look back at him over her shoulder with worried eyes. Her mind was returning control to itself. "Jon-!" she whispered, but she never got the words out. She knew the what the bite of cold metal at her neck was a split second before expected contact. She was an inch from death and there was not way of worming out of it.

"Stop!"

Again, Ra's voice made the three conscious League members pause, Sakura's assailant a centimeter from severing her head from her shoulders.

Sakura turned her head precariously, the sharpened metal so close she could smell it. "I see how it is," she muttered, staring Ra's in the eye. "You kill me and you'll have a shitstorm. Mob, Mafia, Yakuzas. You can't take them all on."

Ra's gave her a soft, almost sincere, smile. She was talented, he would give her that much. If only the League trusted women as they did men. She would have been recruited years before if they had known of her skills. "You may prove of use to me in the future, Ms. Falcone. I'll let you live. But I can't have you gallivanting around tonight." Something was concealed in his hand as he stepped down from the truck and approached her. In the dark, neither could see what it was. He nodded to his man, and the blade was taken from Sakura's neck.

"You would have been a powerful ally in the past," he sighed, almost with regret. "Perhaps we'll meet again?" The look in his cold eyes should have been a warning, but still Sakura had no time to react and a puff of white was blown into her mouth and nostrils.

Her mind reeled and her surroundings spun. She heard Jonathan call to her and catch her before she could fall. She felt the ground, cold and wet from assassin blood, felt the vibrations from the retreating League of Shadows as they packed up, leaving their fallen. Then her senses failed. When they returned, her reality was not the same as Crane's.

All he could hear was her screams, all he could see was convulsions of fear wracking her frame as her eyes rolled. He fell to his knees, laying her delicately on the ground, his arms still around her. His eyes were wide and almost hollow as he watched the women he loved be turned inside out by her fears. Time seemed to have stopped and found he couldn't move.

"Let me go!" Sakura screeched, her eyes blazing as she pushed herself out of his grasp. She fell the last six inches to the ground and screamed again when she made contact with cement. "Let me out! Let me go!" she yelled, though there was no one restraining her. Her entire body shook with her sobs and shivers of fear. Her head rolled from side to side and she raised her fists, pounding them on invisible barriers. "I don't want to! Don't make me! I won't!"

The psychiatrist in Jonathan was interested, the man in him was heartbroken, and the Scarecrow was hungry. He had never seen a patient react so verbally to the toxin, and her mind seemed to re-enact her fears perfectly without any help from her environment. His mask, should he have ever wanted to use it, would have been pointless with her. Perhaps it was the adrenaline? No, it was her. Her fears were not something on a physical level.

"Sakura," he found life return to his limbs and he knelt closer to her, "Sakura," he repeated, this time in a soft voice. Her head turned so quickly her neck cracked. Her eyes were wide and red from tears. "I can help you. Let me help you."

But Sakura eyes turned to mistrust and she caught him by the throat. Apparently her surroundings did add to her hysteria, noted Jon in his head. "I don't need help from anyone!" she yelled, her voice more desperate than angry. She let him go and lay back, her head twisting back and forth until she pulled herself into a sitting position. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and shook with every sob. Jon reached for her again, but she swatted him away. He rose to his feet and grabbed Sakura's gun, which lay forgotten a few feet away. "Are you a prisoner too?" she said after a moment of silence.

He held the gun awkwardly in his hand, unsure of exactly how to do what must be done. He gripped the gun by the barrel and advanced as quietly as he could. He bit his lip. Everything in side him was warring over what was to be done. "Yes," he muttered, before knocking her out with the butt of the gun.

Alright, apparently replying to reviews in-chapter is now FORBIDDEN (bum bum bum), I'll have to request that you log-in to review or else I can't reply to what has been said. So, so sorry.

On a different note, I'm expecting two more chapters for this story, but DON'T WORRY! I'm making this a trilogy or maybe a two-part fic (I'm leaning towards two-part).

Next chapter: The Opera mentioned in Chap. 2, hehe

Last chapter: More on Sakura and Jon surviving the Narrows, with a run-in with Rachel Dawes and Batman (get your scorecard ready, Blodeuedd!), although, unfortunately, that annoying lawyer hair will already be ripped out by her previous escapades. Dammit.