Gotham City,
2.18AM
The rain had been pouring down all night, keeping the streets clear of most crime that thrived under the cover of darkness. Lightning tore across the skies in brilliant flashes, illuminating the dark city below, casting eerie gothic shadows on the buildings. Some said Gotham was the ugliest city in the country. Looking at it now from the roof of the Wayne Towers building, Batman couldn't help but agree. But it was his ugly city.
There wasn't much action tonight, and when there was, it was painfully easy. Bad weather was good weather for him. Stealth, which he was already a master of, became that much easier. Loud sounds were drowned out by the booming of thunder and the patter of rainfall. Vision was obscured past a few paces. The cold, the rumble of thunder, the flash of lightning. These things deterred normal men. They were excellent conditions for a creature of the night.
But something was wrong.
All night, he had been conscious of a presence following him. He could feel its eyes boring into his back even now. It wasn't Wonder Woman, that was for sure. His equipment told him nothing of a metahuman approaching the city. It was a familiar feeling. During his travels around the world he had learned from Henri and Martin Duncard, the famed(and much detested) trophy hunting father and son duo. What most people didn't know about the Duncards was that they were mercenaries, in the business of hunting men too. The art of manhunting wasn't just for any old knuckle draggers. It required keen senses, sharp observational skills,and a good deal of knowledge regarding tracking and navigation. All of that could be gained of course. One could hone their senses and observational skills, and they could always learn how to track or navigate using markers in the environment.
However, the most important ability when it came to manhunting, had to be innate. The most important ability could not be taught or practiced. You either had it or you didn't. The most important ability when it came to manhunting, was a strong intuition. A sense of something about to happen before it happened. Ironically, most humans had it within themselves, because for all their intelligence humans were still animals, and animals operate on instinct. The problem came in harnessing the ability. Most people just ignored it. They ignored that little voice in their head that told them to stop, look, listen. The v oice that told them, don't do this, do that instead. They ignored that primal part of their being, because it was drilled into their heads to never trust instinct blindly. Intellect was king.
And that was sound advice. No one should ever trust their instincts blindly. But no one should ever ignore their instincts when there is no real reason not to. He learned that the hard way many times at the start of his vigilante career, and he paid the price in pints of blood the night the GCPD SWAT team very nearly ended his life.
He was getting that feeling again.
The strange tingling at a spot between his shoulder blades. He touched a pad on his belt, summoning the car in the event things went south and he needed to exfiltrate quickly. If this was another hit from a squad of police, he'd have a means of escape. But he knew this was no ordinary hunter. Whoever it was, they had managed to keep up with him all night, and they hadn't shown themselves even once. The GCPD were a combination of poorly trained trigger happy cops with little or no discipline. And it was well past midnight. This wasn't them. It couldn't be.
The tingling sensation intensified. Whatever it was, it was right on top of him.
"Are you going to skulk in the shadows all night, or are you going to show yourself?" He said without turning. In response, a figure emerged from behind one of the tall metal spires of the Wayne logo. The same man from the party all those months ago. Deathstroke.
"I gotta say, I'm impressed Batman. I don't think anyone's ever seen me coming before. Still, took you long enough."
"You've been following me for approximately 3 hours." he stated.
"More like 3 hours, 15 minutes. You're not as good as you think you are."
"You're bluffing."
"Maybe. Maybe not."
He suddenly found himself flying across the roof. He rolled backwards with the momentum of the fall, popping into a shoulder stand and landing smoothly on his feet. He hadn't even seen him move, but Deathstroke was already standing right before him. Batman had been watching his hands, which were hanging at his sides, near his holstered guns. That meant he had kicked him.
Raising his hands in a defensive stance, he barely ducked under a tightly snapped roundhouse kick. He responded with a low heel sweep that tripped Deathstroke, but just like a cat, he backflipped and landed on the balls of his feet.
The men circled each other slowly, like two boxers sizing each other up in the ring, each observing the other keenly. There wasn't that much of a difference between the two, except that Deathstroke was slightly taller, and slightly more muscular.
Both men knew it was just a preliminary, a warm up. A test of both men's level of skill. Whatever the outcome, this would be one hell of a fight. Batman observed Deathstroke slide smoothly, almost unconsciously into the tiger stance. A fitting fighting style for the current conditions.
Ok then, not your average bruiser.
He emptied his mind of everything but the fight and anticipated the attack.
It came thick and fast, with a flurry of punches and strikes that Batman had to work very hard to block, his forearms stinging with the impact of each blow. It was like fighting a vampire. He knew he had the skill to keep up with him, but Deathstroke was just too strong, and too fast, and in his present physical state after the bruising at Croc's hands, he was in no condition to handle him.
But he wasn't about to lay down. And he already knew Deathstroke wasn't invincible.
Batman blocked one of the punches and retaliated with an elbow to the face, then he seized Deathstroke by the throat and slammed him into the ground with a perfectly timed judo flip. This time even he couldn't move fast enough to avoid the painful landing, but in the blink of an eye he was back on his feet.
Batman pressed forward with a palm heel strike, pushing Deathstroke back a few paces, then he feinted a left cross and kicked Deathstroke right in the groin, hard, bringing him to his knees.
"Agh! You little-" A swift knee strike to his face cut off his speech, flooring him.
"You fight dirty Batman." he said as he rose slowly, unsheathing a katana from his back. It looked sharp enough to cut a string dropped over the blade in two. He flipped it over once,twice,three times in a blinding flash of glowing steel, showing his obvious skill and familiarity with the weapon.
"I like that." he charged forwards, blade raised high.
Alright. You have toys, I have toys.
He dropped a handful of smoke pellets and spun to the right as Deathstroke slashed at the empty air. But the sword was coming at him again, and he ducked, hearing the fabric of his cape rip as he blade sliced through it. That was a lead-lined kevlar cape. Either he was much stronger than he thought, or he was a master swordsman, or the sword itself was made of some special metal.
Probably a combination of all three.
Deathstroke came at him again, and Batman steeled himself for the oncoming attack, whipping out two long, sharp batarangs he always kept on his person for moments such as these.
Sparks flew as the blades struck against each other. His shoulder jarred painfully from the impact, but he grit his teeth and pushed back on the sword, kicking Deathstroke hard right in his gut, pushing him back several feet across the slick surface of the roof. Deathstroke coughed, tasting bile,a burrito, and the salty, metallic tang of blood at the back of his throat.
"Very good." he said.
He wasn't lying, he was genuinely impressed. Normally everyone else was quite dead by this stage.
"But it'll take more than you've got."
He charged forwards again.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Do not be coy with me. You know exactly what. I do not know why you pretend that we do not have a link."
"What makes you think I am pretending?"
"Because I can all but hear your thoughts."
There was a prolonged silence.
"I do not think we should be doing this."
"We are safe here. Even he does not know of this place."
"You are a fool if you truly believe that."
"Perhaps. But I do not think so. You have been coming here for some time."
He glanced at her fleetingly, but she noticed the movement.
"It is a good place. Quiet. Far, far away from home. I like it. It is nice to be away from all the bickering."
He smirked.
"Yes. You absolutely detest the bickering. That is why you are always at the heart of it."
"I said it is nice to be away from it. I never said anything about detesting it."
"You enjoy it then?"
"It is not so much about enjoyment as it is about passing the time. We have so much of it, as you well know."
They were both silent for some time. They didn't need to speak. Theirs was an understanding that was older than the hills.
"He will not be pleased when he learns of this. And he always learns of things like this, no matter how long it takes. You know how he feels about these things. Remember what happened last time?"
"You need not remind me." she shuddered slightly.
"Exactly. I have suffered enough. I will not have that done to me. I would rather die." he spat venomously.
"I am not entirely sure that is possible. Not any more... And I never said anything about us interfering, did I? I am merely suggesting we make a little wager. Just like the old times."
"And what would the winner of this wager-assuming it was to happen-receive?"
"Hmm. If you win, I will grant you my form."
"And if I lose?"
"Then you lose."
"Just like that? No consequences?"
"Yes."
He was silent, thinking of the deal.
"I do not know... Frankly I do not trust you. And I do not believe that you, of all people, would do that for me."
"Despite what you might think, we are still family, and I still love you as a sister loves her brother. That has never changed, and it never will." Her grey eyes met his red ones, and he looked away.
Still he was silent. She tried a different approach.
"Well, I never thought the day would come that you would refuse to make a wager on something like this. "
"That day has come, it seems." But the denial was weak, and she sensed it.
"Come now brother, are you really going to make me beg?"
Still he said nothing.
"Please?"
He turned his head to the side.
"Please brother? Just this once?"
"Go away." he said irritably.
"Please? I will even throw in the Aegis."
He seemed to consider this.
"Is it a yes or a no?"
"I.. I... Fine. But if we get in trouble for this, I will kill you."
"Yes, we all know how well that worked out for you last time, hm?"
He glared at her, but she was totally unaffected by his horrifying presence.
"So, who are you backing?" she asked.
"The warrior."
"They are both warriors."
"You know what I mean. The true warrior, obviously."
"All right. That leaves me with the other."
"Ha."
"'Ha'?"
"He is weak. He will not kill, and that will be his downfall."
"Poor brother. All these eons and you are yet to understand that it is not out of weakness, but great strength, that a warrior chooses not to kill."
"You would preach to me on my specialty?"
"It is my specialty too. I am just the more analytical side of it."
"No matter. He will still fall."
"We shall see. He is very resourceful. He reminds me of-"
"Yes, yes, I know who he reminds you of. The only man you ever truly loved. But even he had your assistance more often than not. Even if the mortal is as resourceful as you claim, wits can only take one so far in the face of sheer might. Victory is surely mine."
He leaned back with a somewhat smug expression, already anticipating a win.
"You have backed the wrong side before." she said quietly.
"You will never let me live that down, will you!?." he shouted.
"No. I will not." she replied with an impish grin.
A/N: If you want to know how I visualize Wonder Woman, look no further than Christina Halkiopoulos, particularly the shot with the red shorts and white tank top.
Australia, you lucky bastards. As if the Hemsworth brothers weren't pretty enough.
And Greece. I can see why Zeus couldn't keep his cock in his toga.
Regarding the plot: JUST TRUST ME DAMMIT, AND KEEP THE QUESTIONS ABOUT ITS DIRECTION TO A MINIMUM.
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