CHAPTER 45:
"Spoiler"

After more sessions in the experimental test chambers, Drake lay battered, bruised, and to the point of feeling ultimately defeated, due to the soreness of his muscles, looking like he had just gone a few rounds with Bane himself.

The Venom Drug experiments had stretched his muscles to their maximum, and at times, he felt like he was going to blow a blood vessel, which he may have done so, underneath the bruising of his skin.

With each session, the time frame increased to see how long he could withstand the effects of the drug, and how long the counter-agents lasted before the toxins began to affect him.

Ultimately, each test brought Dr. Helfern closer to his goal, and to Bane, having a working Venom Drug to use against Batman.

But there was one lingering side effect after each session that affected Drake in a profound way, and as he lay on his bed in his prison cell, turned on his right side, his body hurting from the tests, he pleaded that someone would rescue him, and stop the pain.

He silently cried. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he begged for the pain to forever end.

He had suffered from mental health issues in the past and a continuous barrage of torture of this nature just added to his grief. He felt violated and embarrassed and only a bed sheet covered his naked body.

They left me behind. Everyone abandoned me when I needed them most.

And he wasn't just thinking of this moment, but also when he was paralyzed by Arkells' Neuro-Diffuser. Only Alfred was there to help him. He also had to put his faith in two criminals to help him get back on his feet, while putting together a quick plan to break out a third from a notorious prison to put things right.
None of his other allies came to his aid, not even one.

He now understood how Arkells, his future self, felt when he was in the Batcave, and when he wished for Bruce to kill him.

I'm nothing but chum bait, something someone would just throw away…

But then: No! Stop it! Stop thinking so negatively. You've been in worse situations than this. Someone will come!

He tried folding his knees into his chest, into the fetus position, but everything hurt, and there was another problem.

Drake had been told by Dr. Helfern that it was a side effect from the Venom Drug, for which he was still trying to rectify but non toxic in nature, but it still created a difficult problem to equate and eliminate.

The issue that plagued Drake right now, for males, normally lasted for up to the time one was able to relieve oneself of one's innate desire, sometimes a little bit longer, but if a male was unable to salve off its effects within four hours or less, then they should see a doctor. But Drake was way past that time frame and it was a doctor who had done this to him.

The doctor had given him a box of tissues so he could take care of things, but Drake refused and opted to suffer. With reoccurring doses of the Venom Drug and its muscle co-stimulate Viagra, he knew it wouldn't make a difference. Relief probably wouldn't come and it would only add to the problem. And he felt doing it would only admit that he had lost to them.

The door to his cell—they always locked the door—slowly opened.

He hid underneath the bed sheet. He didn't want to be taken again and he began to shake. No, no, no…not again!

After a few moments, he didn't hear the door close. Were they waiting for him to peak out from under the sheet, see them, and then grab him, in some sort of surprise takeaway? "Please, no more!" he said.

He had his eyes shut, but he found himself wanting to look beyond the veil of his self-secluded safety blanket. He was chained up, but only with one ankle shackle was needed now. Even if they were here to take him to another test session, there was nothing he could do to stop them. He felt tried, and he felt like he was running out of strength, even will power.

Drake peaked out from the sheet, and was surprised that it was not any of the Spaniard enforcers, Harley, or Dr. Helfern.

Instead, it was a timid, young woman with dark hair. He had never seen her before. Other Quinceañera's, as they called themselves, either singular or plural, their real names barred from use by Bane, had come in, and either bathed him down of sweat or tendered to his wounds after a test session, but he had not seen this woman before. Her face was hidden behind long hair and she wore dark clothing, clothes that Bane wanted his workers to wear. No doubt, she was yet another one of Bane's worker slaves—a new one?

She carried with her a bowl of water and some towels, with bandages, cradled in her arms.

Drake pulled the cover over his head again. "Please, go away," he said politely despite his situation. It wasn't the woman's fault he was in this mess, so yelling at her to leave wouldn't serve a purpose. She was under orders. "I don't feel well."

He heard the door slowly creak closed, but not a word spoken. Had she left?

He wondered this, and looked beyond his sheets again, but she was still in the room. Then she knelt next to the bed, put aside the items she had brought, and came close to his face. And once close enough, she brushed back her hair, and Drake's eyes widened with both shock, surprise, and elation.

Drake gasped. But then she put a finger to his lips.

Stephane Brown then kissed him on the lips. "Tim, I'm so glad I found you. And you're all right."

"Steph! But how?" he asked quietly. "How did you find me?"

"Alfred," she simply said. Then, with a smile: "I missed you, Tim. Despite everything we've been through, all the hardships, I wanted to see you again, and to tell you something. I've been thinking about us a lot lately. So, I came home to Gotham and went straight to Wayne Manor to see you. I travelled the world, thinking about things—thinking about us. And you were always on my mind.

"After Alfred told me what happened, I leapt into action. I'm one of the best trackers to ever grace the Batfamily, you know that. But it wasn't until I researched which Rogues were active and had been released from Arkham Asylum, did I come here—to El Patio de los Demons—Bane's hideout.

"This is where I found an old friend of ours who works here: Mariana Garcia. Remember her? We saved her life from a killer who was stalking women on the streets of Gotham when we teamed-up a while back. She said she recognized you, and tried to tell someone, but she wasn't allowed to leave, and if she asked, she knew she would be questioned. And maybe even killed. She said she owed you/us a vow of thanks for saving her life, but there was little she could do. It broke her heart to see you treated so badly."

Drake casted his eyes away regretfully. "I'm sorry for everything harsh I ever said to you, Steph, and everything I did. Every day I wished I could make amends, and that one day I could tell you how much I really care for you. I missed you, too. I got so caught up in Bruce's philosophy to never get involved, or risk hurting the one you love, that didn't think I was hurting the very person I cared about the most. After we fought Johnny Warlock, and I found out you hadn't died, I foolishly pushed you away, after you came back. I didn't want you to get hurt again because of me."

He began to cry.

She cradled his head in her arms. "It's okay now, Tim. Everything is all right."

He sniffed and cried. "I'm so sorry, Steph. I'm so very sorry. Please forgive for me being such an idiot."

"And I'm sorry for making you worry," she replied. "After we broke up, I thought we'd never see each other again. I was angry. But I realized what you just told me and I allowed a cooling off period. I always planned to come back. Now, I'm here to break you out."

She then told him that Alfred had explained everything that had happened with Dick Grayson, Arkells, Batman, and the rest, and that they had set flight to Treasure Island to battle an old Spyral rival of Dick's named Jake Handles.

"But I can't take all the credit in tracking you down completely," she then said, "I did have some help. My skills are a little rusty. I've been out of the crimefighting game for a bit."

She told him that Slade and Pixie were waiting someplace secluded for a text signal. Once received, they would storm the Bastille.

She also said she knew about everything done to help him get back on his feet when he was paralyzed and the interesting ploy he played on Professor Hugo Strange.

This brought a smile to Drake's face, he wiped back tears. "Yeah, that was pretty fun. The whole cloak and dagger thing was Alfred's idea. It was a bit of a gamble, and Strange did find out who I was—that I was Red Robin. But after Pixie laid him out, I used the memory-erasure gas on him, and returned him to Arkham Asylum. He was none-the-wiser." He then sighed, a little sad. "However, when I was returning home that's when I encountered KGBeast on a backroad. He shot out the front tire of my cycle and I crashed. Then he beat me to an inch of my life. The next thing I knew, I was here, and being subjected to Bane's twisted sick experiments."

He felt better, calmer, talking out things. Talking to Steph always made him feel better. He had missed her, so much!

"They put me in a test chamber and kept injecting me with Bane's newest Venom Drug, with counter-agents for the toxins, seeing how I would react, and using me as guinea pig," he said. "Apparently, I have the same, or similar, DNA markers as Bane. If I survived the trials, then the drug was safe for Bane to use. But, there's one problem…"

He cringed from the hurt. He then looked down and she followed his gaze.

"Can I have a look?" she asked, and he nodded.

He hissed, ever the slightest movement caused him discomfort, and he unfolded himself, for her to have a look at his bruised and battered body. She pulled back the sheet and her eyes widened, one for how many bruises he had, and two, for…

Steph's brow rose, and she snorted out a small smirk. "Are you really this happy to see me, Tim?"

Tim's face flushed. "It's a side effect from the Venom Drug, the muscle co-stimulate is Viagra."

She put a hand to her mouth to stop from laughing.

"It's not funny," he said. "It really hurts."

She cleared her throat and suddenly got serious. "Sorry," he said. "How long have you been like this?"

"Too long…"

He asked Steph how she got into Bane's hideout undetected, and she replied, "With Mariana's help, we met up in a secluded area; she was taking out the garbage in the back. When she saw me snooping around, she came to me; said she saw you. We devised a plan. I disguised myself as one of Bane's Quinceañera's and took her place to attend to your wounds. I was given twenty minutes. It's been five minutes since I arrived, that leaves fifteen minutes. I hope that'll be enough time for what needs to be done."

Drake looked at her confused. "What do you mean: needs to be done? Enough time for what?"

She cupped Drake's face and gave him a sweet smile. "Oh, you're so cute when you act all innocent, Tim. That's why I came back. And that's why I love you." She gave him another kiss on the lips.

She then reached over, and…

Drake jerked startled.

But then allowed things to happen. Allowed it to happen. And his eyes fluttered and his mouth went agape.

It took less than half the time Steph allotted for Drake to get the desperate relief he needed, and he was so very, very happy, that she was the one to provide it. She told him not to hold back and he didn't. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. He even felt the need to exhale loudly, but he clamped his mouth shut with a hand, so he wouldn't cause a bluster.

When it was over, Drake shivered and broached a large smile. And they kissed again.

"You have the look of someone who just his virginity," she jokingly said.

"You have no idea how much I needed that," he said, tears falling from the sides of his eyes out of joy and utter relief. What she did felt tremendous, and when he looked down, he was finally at rest.

"Now comes the weird part," she said. Reaching under her dress, she removed a pair of white panties. She handed them to him. "Put them on. Since you don't have any clothes to wear, we can't have Mr. Big flopping around as we make our escape."

Drake took her panties in hand and stretched them a bit, looking at them with both awe and amazement that he actually held a pair of her undergarments, as she went to work on lock-picking his ankle shackle. They're so small. "Wait? What? You really want me to put these on?" He was hesitant and he felt his face flush with a hotness. "Umm…"

She looked at him from the foot of the bed with a lock pick in hand. She didn't bring her Spoiler costume, wanting to come incognito, but she did bring her tools. "Tell you what, when we get back home—to Wayne Manor—I'll put on a pair of your briefs to make us even."

"Stop it, or you'll get me excited again."

After Steph picked the lock, Drake sat up on the bed, and slipped on her panties. He felt weird doing so, and if anyone ever saw him wearing them—especially Jason—he would never live it down. But Steph was right, and oddly enough they felt soft against his skin, and warm. He thanked her. They were a snug and he had to tuck, but things finally positioned themselves into place.

He stood on his feet. His ankle was fully healed, thanks to the doctor's drugs. Even his fingers were back to normal. He had noticed both before, but now he was fully conscious of it, not concerned about the other problem.

"Seriously though, how do we get out of here?" he asked. "I bet Bane has this place locked up tight."

Steph relayed a message on a cellphone she had hidden underneath her dress, tucked between her breasts. Once again, she surprised him. He had no inkling that she was hiding anything there.

"There, I just relayed our SOS to Slade and Pixie," she said. "It should only be a matter of minutes until we're rescued. They're waiting in a back alley behind this complex in a dark Sedan. When I found this place, I informed Alfred. Alfred then sent back-up and we three formulated a plan. I volunteered to come in alone and infiltrate the place to search for you, dressed like this."

Just then, the door swung open. In fact, the door was literally kicked open. And at the threshold stood Harley Quinn with her large black-head mallet in hand. "Nobody's goin' anywhere, sweet-cakes," she said. "Sorry, but your rescue has been cancelled. We've been watching and listening to everything in this room for the past ten minutes. And quite frankly, you two put on a great show! People would pay good money to see something like that, and that" —indicting what Drake was wearing.

"Shove it, Harley!" Steph stood up.

Her cover blown, Steph took off the wig she was wearing and tossed it to the floor. Her hair was a golden blonde, and for a moment, Drake felt his temperature rise slightly. Dick liked red-heads, but Drake liked blondes. And whether it was the Viagra, or her, he felt a sudden tightness below, and grunted. He covered the area with the bed sheet.

"You wanna go?" Harley said. Then she produced a dart-gun.

Drake gasped. "Steph—stop!" he said quickly. "That's the Venom Drug she's holding."

"That's right, Mr. Big," she said mockingly. "From what I saw, the name suits you. This drug can produce some amazing results in a male that every woman would die for, and in what I saw when watching the docs experiments on Drakey-poo, those images have been burned in my memory forever." She winked at Drake.

Drake's face flushed. It wasn't his fault. It had been the result of the Venom drug and the Viagra.

"Now, come along," Harley said, waving the dart-gun. "The Big Man is waiting to see you both."

Drake got up, wrapped the bed sheet around himself, and then both he and Steph left the room. A large man awaited outside in the corridor, the same that always came to get Drake for the test sessions, and they were escorted down the hall—to Bane.

To be continued...