Chapter 12

A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome back! So, just so y'all know, while I am having fun writing the story, I would like to hear some reviews to see what y'all think or if there's anything I could improve on. But still, anyways, remember, I just own the story, nothing else sadly.

/comms/

Telepathy/flashbacks/whatever else I need

Gotham, September 10, 2:33EDT

Batman was probably going to kill him. Actually, the Dark Knight was probably going to be chewing out Red Tornado before he killed him. It had been shockingly easy to swipe his own bike from the cave without the android coming out to see what he was doing there in the middle of the night. But, then again, Robin did say that he never seemed to care what they were doing.

Perfect person to watch a cave-full of super-powered teenagers.

Still, Mike wasn't going to complain about the android hero's inattentiveness. Especially since it gave him a chance to look for answers given how Batman had shut him out after his uncle's insistence.

It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the team thing, he did. But, he could recognize it for what it was: a distraction. Not that he didn't appreciate it at times, but all the hovering made it difficult to investigate his father's activities.

Which was why he took the opportunity to sneak out as soon as his uncle was out of town on some business trip. Though it had been shockingly difficult to get past Efrem—the man was like a damn ninja some days.

The engine of his motorcycle was surprisingly but thankfully quiet as he turned into his old neighborhood. Like he suspected, most of the houses were dark and quiet as he drove through the suburbs. There were a few stray lights on here and there, but they were undoubtedly teens like himself breaking curfew. No nosy neighbors peeking through their curtains.

Granted, not that they'd be able to see anything when he got on the road to his house. Wasn't that how his dear father got away with it for so long?

But still, there had to be something that the police missed, maybe even that Batman missed. It was a longshot, but right now it was his only way to figure out what was going on.

At least it wasn't his first time breaking back into his own house.

Parking his bike, he looked up at the house he'd lived in for his whole life up until a few months ago. Clearly his attempted murder hadn't done anything for the place. Police tape was still tied to the mailbox and he could see the evidence tape still on the front door, the grass looked like it hadn't been cut since the last time Mike had done it, and he could even see evidence of some animal activity from the woods. So, clearly there were no buyers, or his place was still regarded as a crime scene even after all these months. Then again, his father was a serial killer, so until he was caught, the bodies stopped piling up, and that man was tossed into the deepest cell in Arkham behind metal walls with no windows and the key was thrown into a volcano, it was still an active case.

But, that worked for him, no new owners meant all his family's stuff would be there and not in some storage facility. It also meant he wouldn't be breaking into some poor family's new home to tear apart specific rooms in an effort to look for evidence about a child killer. Furthermore, with it being an active scene, meant that no stupid teens were going to try to break in and steal shit. The occasional presence of cops alone in the neighborhood had been enough to deter his ex-friends in the past. Mike would bet that other kids on the outskirts of Gotham were just as cowardly as those dicks were.

Bastards sure made short work of distancing themselves and planting all the blame on him, after all. If he ever saw any of them again he was going to break their noses.

Taking a deep breath, Mike exhaled and dismounted his bike. He could plan a way to get revenge on the pricks that had helped bully his brother after he did what he came here for. And to do that, he first needed to get in. Hopefully, no one noticed that the latch on the back window was broken.

Leaves crunched under his boots as he strode around to the back, occasionally tossing a glance out into the tree line to make sure there weren't any wolves or feral dogs lurking around. Making it around the house, he reached up to tug on the screen. To both his surprise and relief, it popped off like it always had. Glancing through the glass, he couldn't help but smirk, looked like the lock was still broken.

Thank you, Gotham's finest.

Grabbing a screwdriver, he shoved it under the edge of the window making a gap large enough for him to get a handhold. Mike then winced a moment later when he shoved the window open with more force than needed. He almost thought that he'd break the glass. Fortunately, luck was on his side for once as it didn't shatter into a million sharp fragments like he expected. But there was a new crack in it.

Guess Canary had a point in those lessons about controlling his strength.

Smirking to himself, Mike hefted himself up to slide inside. However, he didn't remember it being this hard to squeeze through. Then again, the last time he'd had to sneak in was when his dad had still been around. After he left there had been no reason for Mike to sneak in. Shouldn't have been surprising that he'd had a couple of growth spurts since then. He wasn't exactly the scrawny twelve-year-old he used to be.

At least his recent training made sure his skills and B&E weren't forgotten. Though…did it really count as B&E if it was breaking into your own home?

Well, this wasn't his place of residence anymore, he still owned it, so technically it was still his house, but that was until the case was over. After that he was either going to sell it or burn it to the ground.

Of course, that would be after he found the evidence he needed to get Batman to let him back on the case.

There had to be something they all missed. Michael's father was a paranoid maniac. He wouldn't hide everything in one place. No, Circus Baby's secret hideout had its own hidden compartments within, same with the hideout he overheard had been in Freddy's. Both places had been mazes too. Mike would bet solid money that there were even more hidey-holes he didn't know about.

No doubt the cops had already searched his father's office, but he doubted the man hid everything in there. So, there was somewhere else in this house, somewhere else that everyone had to miss. Somewhere no one would think to look.

William used to spend a lot of time in Lizzie's room after she died. Lizzie had always been his favorite, so it wouldn't be surprising if a grieving father hid in the room of his lost daughter.

And, when looking for evidence in a serial killer's home, why look in the perfectly preserved room of a six-year-old girl? The one room in the house where nothing bad had ever happened.

Almost tripping himself on the one stair with a divot in the center, Mike flew to the second floor, throwing open the door to Lizzie's room. At first glance, everything seemed to be exactly as the last time he saw it. Bed made, toy box in the corner, some little make-up table against the wall, even the remains of a foxy toy she'd fondly called Mangle were still strewn about the floor, the pieces waiting to be reassembled in whatever way a child's twisted imagination could dream.

Elizabeth had been so happy to get that toy for Christmas. Father had made it for her after all.

Shaking his head, Mike disregarded the toy as he stepped into his little sister's room.

He wasn't here to reminisce.

He was here to avenge her death.

Hopefully, father slipped up and assumed no one would check the bedroom of a dead little girl.

The wood of the dresser groaned in protest as he began forcing the drawers open for the first time in years. Mike ignored the painful twinge in his chest as he looked down at the drawer full of small, folded pink horse and princess pajamas. Instead, he pulled the clothes out doing his best not to crumple them as checked for anything trapped in between the folds. Though his search had proven fruitless. There had been nothing trapped between the clothes ether. Pulling the drawer out fully, he shook it violently, hoping to hear something rattling within a false bottom. He even flipped the box over to see if there was anything tapped to the bottom.

Nothing had been in or on the other drawers either, nothing besides clothes and a random resealable bag of candy.

Mike never thought Lizzie would be one to hide candy in her room. He used to do the same thing when Uncle Henry gave him chocolates.

A small smile flickered across his face at the memory. He'd put it all back when he was done. Just like he found it…though it wasn't like the owner would come back to ever finish it.

Smile falling, Mike set the bag of candies aside. He needed to focus. Kneeling beside the dresser, he tapped on the sides, listening for a hollow space. Other than the reverberation of the empty cavity he just cleared out. Maybe there was something behind the dresser. Fortunately, thanks to his newfound strength, it wasn't that hard to pick up the lump of wood and put it out in the hall.

The paint was the same base gray his father always used when they were going to repaint a room. Lizzie had been wanting to paint her room a new color. Mike shook his head, turning his attention back onto the details in front of him. There didn't appear to be any discoloration that would suggest it'd been repainted over a few times. And he wasn't even going to get started on drywall. Sure, he'd done a couple construction jobs—under the table naturally, no reputable place would hire a minor to work construction in Gotham—but he'd never done much walling. So he had no way to tell if there was a hollow space or not.

Actually, he could rule out walls, his dad's expertise was metal-work, robotics, engineering, biotech stuff, that sort of thing. Though the man was knowledgeable about both plumbing, deep cleaning, and off-grid survival skills—but in retrospect the reason why was pretty obvious considering what he knew now. It was why Mike had come back to the goddamn place to begin with.

God, he really needed to stop getting distracted.

Ok, so, dresser and inside the walls were out. That left the bed, the make-up thingy, the toy-box, the vent in his sister's room, the closest, the actual toys, the figurines of the shelves, a potential secret cubby carved into the closet, and maybe even a secret cubby carved into the floor under the carpet. The latter two options were longshots at best, but could work if nothing else panned out.

Cleaning up his previous mess, he moved to the toy boy, starting the arduous process of checking every toy while he emptied out the box. This was going to take a while.

-.-

3:45EDT

There had been a false bottom in the toy bin.

Tossing the plank of wood aside, Mike reached in picking up a journal. It looked worn, his father probably used it a lot. Good. That meant there had to be something regarding the bastard's activities within its pages. Pulling the backpack from his back, he shoved the journal in. He could review it after he finished his search. Besides, there were other things in the bottom too. A strange collection of test tubes for instance.

Picking up the tray holding them, Mike's brows furrowed as he looked at the liquid within. They were a variety of colors, and they shimmered like mercury. Except for the dark violet ones, those ones looked more like goo. "What the hell were you up to?" he whispered, gently setting the containers in his bag. He'd have to be careful transporting them. Mike had a feeling something bad would happen if the dark vials broke.

Besides, his theory had been right. There were places no one thought to look. And he would bet good money that there were other hiding places that hadn't been found.

Ignoring the mess, Michael renewed his search, he could clean up afterwards. Almost ripping out the vent cover as he peered into the vent leading into his sister's room, the teen paused as he came face-to-face with a small red light.

A camera.

There was a hidden camera looking into his baby sister's room. Mike would bet there were others too, hidden all around the house. It explained how William always seemed to know what they'd been up to, even when the man hadn't stepped foot in the house for days at a time. He always knew, because he was always watching.

That explained why Batman hadn't been able to find his bastard of a father. The man had been following the investigation going on in his own home. He probably overheard all the theories and conversations, kept track of all the evidence they collected.

Growling, Mike flipped off the camera right before he ripped the damn thing out. The metal crumpled under his fingers. Sparks coming off the device and hitting his skin painlessly as it lost power. He'd have to find and destroy the rest.

-.-

5:16EDT

The rest of the search into Lizzie's room had been fruitless. No other hidden compartments, nothing stuffed into the pillows or mattress, nothing hiding in the toys or books, there wasn't even any loose areas of carpet that would suggest something was hidden under the floor. However, he did manage to find two more cameras in his sister's room alone. He didn't want to imagine how many were hidden throughout the house.

But still, there had to be somewhere else someone wouldn't have looked.

Ok, so if he were a paranoid serial killer, where would he hide evidence he didn't want found in the case of discovery? It would be somewhere no one would think to search. Somewhere that wasn't obvious. Somewhere well hidden, where no one would stumble across it on accident, but also quickly accessible for when he needed it.

A pit of dread settled in his stomach. After…the incident, Mike hadn't been allowed into his room either. Not that Mike would've wanted to after what he'd done.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mike exited Lizzie's room, striding towards the other end of the hall. With a shaky breath, Mike opened the door, looking into his brother's bedroom for the first time since…that happened. Like his sister's room, everything was just like he last saw it. Toys scattered on the checkered carpet floor, bed made, two blue dressers, the door leading to the Jack and Jill bathroom the young twins used to share, little glow in the dark stars stuck to the roof and walls, a lone Freddy plush sitting on the bed, all waiting for an innocent little boy that was never coming back.

A boy who would never get to grow up because his own brother, someone who was meant to protect him, had instead laughed as his fragile skull had been crushed.

His hand shook as he reached out towards the dresser. He…he had to do this. Ev—all those kids deserved justice. Their murderer was still out there, walking free. He had to do this, for them. It was the least he could do after letting it happen for so long.

Mike should've known. He should've done something to stop him. He had known his father was a monster. Time and time again he had seen his father come home at absurd hours, clothes occasionally covered in dark stains he had assumed to be oil. And he had the chance, time and time again to stop his father's rampage. Mike could've poisoned William's precious bourbon, the coffee he'd made for the man morning after morning, any of the meals he had cooked. Heck, he was always the one in the kitchen, Mike had access to all the knives, he could've just manned up and stabbed the bastard in his sleep.

But no, instead he just played the part of the weak, pathetic son that couldn't do anything right.

The blood of all those innocent people was just as much on his hands as it was on his father's. He had to give them the justice they all deserved.

Which meant he needed to see if his father had used his brother's room just as he had Lizzie's. Even if the thought of ripping the room apart made his chest tighten painfully.

Releasing a shaky breath, Michael slowly began emptying the dresser drawers. Repeating the same process had had in Lizzie's room: checking the folded clothes for anything hidden in them, shaking the emptied drawers to listen for items hidden inside, feeling the sides of the dresser for hidden compartments.

As luck would have it, they were just as fruitless as last time. He did find another camera built into the fan though. Cleaning up the mess, he moved to the few toys his brother had. Unlike his sister's barbies and horses, these ones could be taken apart and put back together. The perfect place to hide some small pieces of evidence.

Sitting with his back against the bed, he grabbed the toy phone, flipping it over and pulling out his screwdriver to open it. Like any toy, it looked pretty basic on the inside. A few bells and whistles that let it make noise when dialing the rotor, but nothing fancy. Which was why the blue chip that had fallen out was so out of place. It was just a little smaller than a sim card, it probably had info on it too. Shoving it into his pocket, he put the phone back together and started taking apart the toy robot. He was doubting he'd find anything else considering all his searching in Lizzie's room had only produced the one hiding spot, but still, it was worth a shot.

-.-

7:00EDT

Searching his brother's room thankfully hadn't taken as much time as Lizzie's. And, like her room, the only thing he found in there had been the chip and another camera.

Yet, it still felt like he was missing something.

But he had searched everywhere that Batman or the cops wouldn't have checked. Everywhere except…he closed the door behind him, looking down to the far end of the hall. Towards the one room that had always been further from the rest: his room. There was no way his father could've—Mike almost facepalmed. The cameras.

His father saw everything.

He would've known when Mike had snuck out, when he fell asleep, when he took showers, man could've snuck into his room whenever he liked. And given how many times Mike had woken up to his drunken father trying to strangle him or with a knife to his throat, the man clearly had no problem barging into his room when he was sleeping. Lord only knew what the man did in his room when he was sober.

Storming down the hall, he all but kicked the door in as he looked into the space he'd lived up until a couple months ago. Unlike his siblings' rooms, it wouldn't take long for him to rip this place apart.