CHAPTER 49
"Ultimate Payback"

Batman and Nightwing hugged the wall on either side of a closed door. They heard rustling noises inside. When one of Bane's men burst out, Batman bashed him in the face with the back of a hand and he immediately went down, falling back inside the dark room.

"If my math's correct, the count's twenty," Nightwing said. "The only one's left are Bane and Harley Quinn."

Just then, Harley peaked out from a door a little ways up and the duo ran to it, entering the room. Nightwing went point, escrima sticks at the ready. He knew he couldn't get close to her with her large mallet, but at the very least he could whack it away when she swung it. Harley Quinn stood near the back of the fairly lit but empty room with her mallet in hand. They had effectively cornered her. And yet, she didn't seem fazed by it.

"Give it up, Harley," Batman said. "There's nowhere you can run."

"Tell us where Stephane Brown is and I'll put in a good word for you when its time to pick a cell in jail," Nightwing said.

Harley waved a finger in defiance, said: "Oh no, Bat Do-do's. I believe it's the other way around. There's nowhere you can run!"

Just then, something grabbed Batman's cape and yanked him back into the hall. It was Bane. He then grabbed Batman and squeezed him in a bear hug. Nightwing turned, went to help. Suddenly, Harley's mallet came swinging towards him from behind, caught the door and it slammed in his way, effectively shutting him off from Batman.

Nightwing grabbed the handle, pulled, twisted and turned, but the door was locked, the mechanism fused.

He snapped his attention around. Harley was ready, gripping the handle of her mallet. He still couldn't believe how easily she used it. Harley wasn't built like most women he had interacted with that had strong muscles, but she did have tight features, two of which stood out paramount. She was young, but she was built like an adult movie actress. Most people would call that very healthy.

There were the sounds of thunderous bangs on the other side of the door. Batman needed his help. Bane was a massive threat, both figuratively and physically. Batman was strong, but against Bane's Venom's Drug that enhanced his prowess, there was definitely strength in numbers.

"Open the door, Harley! I mean it!"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Batman, sweet-cheeks," Harley said with a Joker-esque smile. "You should be more concerned with me. Bane's going to have a little fun with Batman, while I'm going to enjoy myself with you."

Nightwing grit his teeth in frustration. "I'm getting tired of all this," he said. "It's just one thing after another, one villain after the other. Like I'm going through stages to get to the main boss. And right now, I wish I had a cheat to get to the end."

Harley cocked her head. "Oh, you can cheat with me anytime, handsome. What are you, like in your mid/late twenties? I like older men—you're experienced and very playful. I'm not innocent, if you know what I mean? And I have this fantasy where you're tied to a bed, stripped, and then I lick you all over, and over, and over, and over again. Do you like melted chocolate?" She winked at him.

Nightwing blushed and swallowed nervously. "You need some serious help, Harley," he said. "Some really serious help."

Harley chuckled short. "Look, with all due honestly, I'm so glad you're not dead. I would feel lost if I never got to see those sweet peaches of yours bound in those tights. You have the greatest butt I've ever seen on a guy."

"I've heard that before. I really don't know why people keep going on about my butt. I work out, I get it. Move on."

He heard slamming and the sounds of struggling and grunting from the other side of the door and he knew Batman needed help. He turned briefly. But that was a mistake.

Suddenly, Harley came running towards him. He raised his escrima sticks, but she kicked them both out of his hands, and then she coiled herself around his body like a snake. She shifted around to his backside and locked her legs around his midsection and her arms around his neck, then kissed him twice: once on the forehead and the second on the right cheek, leaving red lipstick marks. Not only was she clutching him tightly, but her pelvis was also thrusting against his backseat, humping him.

"Stop that!" he demanded.

He grabbed her arms, but they were locked so tightly it was like trying to pry steel out of place. Then he reached for her head, but every time he did, she would wiggle and move around like a slippery eel, using her quickness to escape his grasp.

Eventually, she returned to his back, and then suddenly began to rub his lower region with the back of her heel. "Rub, rub, rub…Oh, there's a submarine in the tub! Do most superheroes always go commando? Every heard of underwear? But I guess they're called skin tights for a reason, right? Ah, c'mon! Don't play hard to get. Give in. Trust me, no jokes. I could really rock your Wingding."

His eyes widened, he gasped. "Not appropriate, Harley," he said, and grabbed her, and managed to fling her off him.

Harley seemed to let go on purpose, letting him throw her. She twirled through the air like some graceful ballerina, landing on her feet. She then raised her arms in the air as if it was part of some aerobatic feat.

Nightwing picked up his escrima sticks that hadn't fallen too far away and gave her a look of disappointment. He twirled them, and then readied himself in a defensive stance. "If you were my daughter, I'd ground you."

She smirked. Then picked up her mallet that she had left leaned up against the back wall before she rushed him again.

To Nightwing, it had all the look of one of those "strongman" mallets found at carnival games. It operates by utilizing the lever where one end holds a puck attached to the tower and the other end is struck by the person or contestant using a hammer or mallet. He wondered if that's what it was fashioned from and redesigned to be so light in weight, but as strong as steel.

When he was a kid as a trapeze artist for the "Flying Grayson's" in Haley's Circus, he used to love this game, but he could never get it to the top because he was never strong enough. Once, he even complained that it was impossible. When he saw his brother Mitch do it for the first time, he knew all he had to do is get stronger and to build his upper body strength. Mitch said there was no trick to it, and there was no need for strategic thinking. All it took was a person's determination and strength of will.

He later found out that that was a fib and if the hammer didn't hit the target dead centre to make the "puck" launch upwards, and it was off even the tiniest bit off for it to hit the bell, then a person would fail every time. His brother liked to act strong in front of him.

Only now, Dick Grayson had to be the strong one, to fight crime, and to try to prevent what happened to his family, so it didn't repeat for anyone else.

Haley brought back some good memories from Dick's past, but it nearly cost him, as he narrowly missed being slammed in the face when her mallet came swinging through the air for his head. He ducked at last moment and he felt the rush of air across his face.

He rolled to a safe distance, but then he grunted. He felt heavy and he began to huff a little.

"You've gotten a bit slow, bird boy," she said. "Put on a few pounds? That's why I've sworn off meats and dairy. They add on the pounds. They also cause IBS, which produce a lot of gas. Some of the gas Bane has been producing lately would wish you to cut off your own nose." She waved a hand across her face. "Pew! Give me leafy greens any day!"

He could confirm that, especially when it came to Titus, Damian's dog, whenever Jason gave him pure beef.

Yet, Jason wasn't innocent in that department either. When push came to shove, it was debatable whether he or Titus were the worse gas producers. Jason enjoyed eating burgers and drinking beer, but bad eating habits eventually catches up to a person, and the body doesn't minst words. Once, when they were all watching wrestling, and eating nachos and other assorts snacks, in the entertainment room at Wayne Manor, during one of their more civil times when the family was on better terms, Jason ripped a loud one that sounded like a chainsaw. Luckily it was during a commercial break, but he cleared the room for a few minutes.

"Not my fault," he responded to the remark about his weight, "but I can concur with you on the gastronomic aspect of things." When he first got his life back, he learned he had put on twenty pounds and mostly around his waist, and he had more gas. Now it was down to thirteen pounds. But even a little bit of weight made all the difference. "Forces beyond my control," he then said. "But things are getting better. And the news of my so-called death in the media was greatly and most equivocally exaggerated."

"And I'm so pleased about that, because despite our differences, I think you're the sexist man in my hemisphere," she said.

Nightwing frowned. Normally, a complement like that would make him blush, but the moment she said the word 'hemisphere', everything Jake Handles did to him was brought back in a flash. Jake Handles hired a doctor to perform surgery on him and inserted two devices attached to each hemisphere of his brain to cause him to suffer painful amnesia in an attempt to destroy him and his happiness. Only when they were removed was he able to remember who he was without feeling excoriating agony.

He felt angry, but Harley didn't deserve it. So, he pushed it down to deal with the issue at hand. He'd deal with it later.

"As of right now, Harley, you've been placed on my naughty list," he said. "You need a good parental to help you change your ways."

She turned her butt to him and then patted herself on the left cheek. "Then please, spank me," she said with a large grin. "I've been a very, very bad girl. I know who you all are, thanks to Drakey-poo, so if I don't get what I want…"

Nightwing rolled his eyes. Or you'll do what? Reveal our secret identities? Not going to happen.

He briefly thought back to everyone the Batfamily had encountered with in this latest episode of villainy and knew too many people were learning their secret identities. Bane and Harley Quinn were the most recent.

Before he worked for Spyral, his secret identity was revealed by the Rogues to the world and he had to fake his own death.

Afterwards, he was forced to work for the Court of the Owls as Talon, blackmailed.

In the end, when things simmered down, and everything returned to normal—the world cast with a spell of amnesia thanks to a piece of technology that nullified every one of his real identity—he was back to doing what he loved, and back to being Nightwing.

That was when Tim Drake started to develop a very powerful short-term memory erasure spray. Bruce used something similar in the past, but Drake's spray eliminated the possibility of those memories returning.

"I have a strict policy of not dating younger women," Nightwing said, wiping the lipstick marks off from his cheek and forehead with the back of his right glove. "Especially those who should still be in school."

Harley frowned and stood up straight, mallet in hand. She gripped it tight, as if angry. "I'm not a kid, you jerk! I know a lot of things and could do so things to you that'll make your head spin." And then described a few in short.

Nightwing blushed, then cleared his throat. "That's some imagination, Harley," he said, a little disturbed by those descriptions. "When you're in jail for your crimes, I'm going to send you a case of soap, so you can wash out that dirty mind."

Harley smirked short. "Had a feeling you wouldn't like'em, you're so simple minded, and you prefer the humble-type—like that red-haired, stacked hussy, don't'cha? Just like men these days, all you care about are your own feelings and wants."

"Not true, Harley," he said. "People like different things, it doesn't make men disrespectful. You need to find yourself a younger man to engage with. Find a pen pal, go on a chat forum, enrol in a service for speed-dating. You never know what you'll find. As for us, Harley; not going to happen. In another multiverse, perhaps? Just not here."

"Well, if that's the case," she said, "I guess there's only one thing left to do then." She growled. "No woman likes to be rejected!"

She charged with her mallet raised, swinging hard and fast, and she aimed straight for his head—the sign of an angry woman when their feelings have been hurt. Nightwing arched his back and the mallet came floating over his chest. To him, it felt like it had a slow-motion effect, like that sci-fi movie when the protagonist was moving at such super speed that he could actually see the jet stream of bullets after they had been fired at him, avoiding them with ease.

And yet, Nightwing was just very flexible. He didn't need any super-speed to avoid the mallet.

The look on Harley's face looked like she had overextended her swing, using more strength than she intended, and it slammed into the wall, unintentionally, embedding itself deep.

She yanked on it, but she couldn't get it out. "Damn it! Just wait there, sexy-hero, I'll get it out, and then we'll continue playing," she said, and pressed a foot against the wall, gripping the handle and pulling back with all her might. But the thing was really stuck.

From Nightwing's perspective, it looked like she had gone through to another room and it was now trapped, locked in.

"Okay, Harley. You've had your fun," he said, electrifying his escrima sticks for intimidation factor. "No more tricks. Come quietly."

Just then, he heard another loud thump from out in the hall way. He had heard consistent sounds of bangs, thumps, and strugglings, all throughout his own battle with Harley, but now the fight between Batman and Bane seemed to have intensified.

Finally, there was a heavy thud. And suddenly, the door to the room burst open, and Batman stood at the threshold triumphant with Bane laying on the floor. Everything had happened out in the hallway and it had been brawn versus brawn. But unlike Bane, who used nothing but massive strength to fight with, Batman used intelligence and strategy. There are points on the human body that if they are targeted effectively, can weaken an opponent faster and cause a person to lose quicker than merely just going fist-ta-cuffs.

Nightwing smiled. But then Batman pointed and shouted for Nightwing to lookout.

Things seemed to happen in slow motion again as Harley pulled the trigger to what looked like a dart gun she had secretly hidden on her person. A dart ejected from the chamber and it came soaring through the air towards Nightwing's head. He dropped back, like he was performing a limbo move, and the dart flew over his head towards the doorway, and pass Batman.

Unfortunately, it was in the direct path of someone else, as he suddenly managed to recover, and stand. The dart penetrated Bane's tights and embedded itself in his stomach.

Bane grunted after the impact.

"Oh, oh," Harley remarked. "This aint gonna be good. That dart had the pure stuff, before the doc tweaked the formula for Drakey-poo."

But before either Batman or Nightwing had a chance to ask what she meant, Bane said, "Harley, you fool!"

And then it started to happen and fast. Bane clamped his hands over his lower mid-section and suddenly groaned as the front of his tights began to grow exponentially. Bane dropped to his knees. Then his muscles began to bulge and enlarge more, even inflate to grotesque, monster-esque and deformed size. "Help me! Help me!" he said in English, not Spanish.

"He looks like he's about to explode!" Nightwing said.

Batman acted quickly, opened a door to a room on other side of the hall, and pushed Bane through. The big man looked to fluster backwards and off-balance, his face and head completely unrecognizable, enlarged to enormous size, eyes bulging. Then Batman shut the door.

Within seconds there was a loud explosion, but it sounded more like a large balloon popping with a heavy echoing BOOM! Then the sounds of wetness, sputtering and spattering, with large items smacking the ground and walls like pieces of juicy meat.

Harley dropped the dart-gun in shock and put a hand to her mouth.

Nightwing then asked: "Batman?"

Batman took a moment and then opened the door slightly, looking inside. His boot stepping on something wet. He shut it quickly. He said, "Not a pretty sight. Best not to look."

Nightwing saw the blood on the tip of Batman's boot. No words needed to be said, it was obvious.

"Oh my god!" Harley said.

At that moment, a voice called to Batman from down the hall. Tim Drake came running with Damian, Slade and Pixie, behind. They stopped when they reached Batman.

"Tim!" Nightwing said, stepping out of the room when he heard the teen's voice. "Glad that you're okay."

Tim saw Harley just inside the room where Nightwing had exited. She looked shocked.

Tim then proceeded to tell everyone that Bane had Steph, and that Dr. Marx Helfern, the unconfirmed son of Dr. Karl Helfern, a.k.a. Doctor Death, was threatening to kill Steph by injecting her with the Venom Drug. Nightwing then relayed what had just happened here and that Bane was dead, although unconfirmed without looking. But after what was heard, it was next to confirmed.

"Dr. Helfern was working on eliminating and attempting to reduce the toxicity of the Venom Drug, substituting muscle enhancing proteins with stimulant properties found in Viagra, if you can believe that." Tim revealed, with a smirk, a little humorous after the fact. "I guess, with a double-dose of the stuff, Bane's body probably couldn't deal, with it and he popped by a balloon."

"What a way to go," Pixie remarked. "I wouldn't want to be the HASMAT team called in for that mess."

Suddenly, there was another larger explosion that came from inside the room where Bane had died. The walls shook and quaked, fractured and splintered—everyone went to protect themselves—and a piece of the door frame ejected itself from the impact, and went flying straight past Nightwing, and smacked Harley Quinn squarely in the face. She went down like a sack of cement.

Nightwing ran over and felt her neck for a pulse. "She's alive, but unconscious. But what the heck was that?"

x x x

Stephane Brown was a strong woman. So much, in fact, that when she heard the loud explosion inside Bane's complex, she went towards it instead of away. With her was Mariana Garcia, who rescued her from Bane's clutches. When Bane and company were distracted with other things, Mariana braved the risks, found her, and freed Stephane from a locked room, aware of the things happening. Bane's other women he brought in had now fled with all the recent activity, but not Mariana.

Mariana had told her that rescue forces were here for Tim Drake, Batman and others. When Mariana was saved from a killer stalking women on the streets in Gotham, for a moment, Stephane and Tim had to reveal their secret identities to her to get her trust them, so they would go with them. As she was timid, just new in America, legally, she was not trusting of others, afraid of being exploited. But she knew how to keep a secret, especially of those who rescued her life.

She told Stephane that this was her thank you, for rescuing her that time, since she was unable to help Tim previously.

They both hoped the explosion had nothing to do with Tim or anyone else of the Batfamily.

When Stephane turned a corner, her eyes immediately lit up when she saw Tim, half naked, but safe. And she called out to him. Mariana stayed back, but watched.

Tim whipped around and his eyes widened with extreme happiness. They both ran towards each other and hugged, wrapping the other in each other's arms. Stephane kissed him smack-dab on the lips. She didn't care who was watching. She was just glad that Tim was safe after everything Bane had put him through.

They both relayed their most recent experiences, Tim thanked Mariana, and turned to the others.

"Aren't you cold, Tim? It's mild for winter right now, but still…" she said.

"A little," he said, "but I'm much warmer with you now."

Nightwing stepped out from the adjacent room when he first heard Steph's voice calling for Tim. He relayed that Harley would be unconscious for a while, but she'll be okay. She would probably need some of Tim's special short-term memory erasure gas later on to forget recent events and secret identities, however.

Seeing the pair together, he said, "So, Tim, anything we should know?"

Steph and Tim gazed into each other's eyes and held the other's hands.

"We're back together," Tim said, smiling at her. She smiled back.

They held each other's hands up to their chests and to their hearts. "And this time, no more keeping secrets," she said. "If we need to get something off our minds, any problems, we're going to discuss things like normal people, and no more brooding."

"Agreed," Tim said with a smile.

That was a direct jab towards Bruce who always kept his feelings to himself.

Just then, Batgirl and Red Hood came walking down the hallway towards them. Jason was moving a little slow due to Harley playing punchbag with his genitals after a quick maneuver to counteract his gun-toting threats to her. Nightwing said something to the equivalent of "Here comes the wounded warrior", and Jason responded, "Would you like to get shot again?"

With everyone gathered together, information was conveyed all around. The events of the most recent happenings were discussed until all those in attendance were brought up-to-date. Dick and Barbara then revealed the big news that they were engaged. Dick had proposed to Barbara on Treasure Island amidst all the chaos that was taking place.

Stephane and Tim congratulated them. Mariana did likewise.

"Just so you know," Damian said to Tim, "Jason offered your services as flower girl."

Both Stephane and Tim turned to Jason.

"You are so weird, Jason," Stephane said.

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "So I've been told," he said with a crooked smirk.

Arkells sounded on the communication frequency.

Batman answered, putting a hand to his ear.

Arkells asked if everything was okay, that he heard a series of sudden explosions.

Batman replied, "Everyone accounted for, and alive. Mission accomplished. But one fatality, possibly Bane? Yet we won't know until Gotham forensics confirm. Suggest sending a copy of Bane's genetic profile from the Batcomputer to Gotham PD. We'll head home after a quick sweep of the grounds for any stranglers." Arkells acknowledged. And Batman finished, "Batman out."

x x x

Garfield Lynns was awake, but he was locked inside a dark room. This was where some of Bane's goons had put him, all because he had stupidly decided to join up with his motley crew and team with KGBeast. Both of which had betrayed him. Bane beat the crap out of him for doing his job and he found himself in this room like a prisoner ever since he'd awoken from that onslaught.

But he wasn't going to take it anymore. He went to the door and twisted the handle. Oddly enough, it wasn't tough to break. He opened the door and peaked out into he corridor. It was empty. He knew he couldn't leave without his gear, so he quickly searched. Luckily no one was about, as if they were pre-occupied with something else, and he found his stuff stored in room near by.

His body hurt after Bane's beating, but he fought back the pain and suited up. Once he was fully ready, and he donned his costume of his secret ego Firefly, he checked the fuel to his jetpack and then made his escape out into a back alley.

Just as he was about to blast off, he heard a noise, and Bane came bursting out another door close by.

An anger swelled inside Lynns. The man had beat him to a bloody pulp and every part of his body hurt. He'd survive, but this was his chance to get a little revenge.

Bane didn't know Lynns saw him fleeing. So, Lynns flew into the air and buzzed above Bane. Bane looked up, and gasped, just before Lynns delivered the ultimate payback.

Lynns mainly dealt with military-grade incendiary devices, including grenades, napalm, and smoke bombs, and usually carried with him either a flamethrower or a sword-like blade of superheated plasma to user at close-ranged, hand-to-hand combat, but with these close proximity to other buildings, neither one was an option.

So, he did the next best thing: He "bugged" the hell out of Bane, and used everything he could find to beat the man to a bloody pulp, not letting the muscle-bound villain even get a chance in activating his new and improved Venom Drug.

He was the fly in Bane's ointment.

To be continued...