Chapter 17

Gotham was beautiful at night, its overall broken appearance hidden by shadows. The filthy buildings with barred windows were just towering, featureless giants. The streets were crowded with bustling lights. Sirens came and went like sloping hills. Smog blotted out the stars but cowered before the moon, big and yellow and bright. It was easier to pretend that this was just like any other city. Normal. Mostly safe.

But then, dawn would break and snap every illusion in two like a piece of kindling. Reminding you that this was the city of sin.

Ruby had been living here all her life, and she still found it daunting how sky-high the crime rates were compared to other cities. It was like comparing a batch of fresh, sweet-smelling mushrooms to a hulking, reeking, infected one with cobwebs across its tob. Gotham...there was something special about it that drew in criminals. Was it the location? Several hundred miles from the closest city? Maybe. Was it the lax police service? Probably. Either way, wicked was the norm here. Everyone, or almost everyone, broke the law as easily as others might break twigs.

That was why spotting a single criminal would be a challenge. But not impossible.

Perched on a roof, Ruby slipped another dried apricot in her mouth. She still had a pack left. Oswald had shoved them in her hand right before she'd left. He'd said that they were filled with iron, something that Ruby's body needed right now. As she munched, listening to several police radios at the same time, Ruby hoped that Butch and Oswald hadn't killed each other already. She didn't doubt that Oswald could win. But Butch was the one carrying the bazooka, after all.

That was why she had to hurry up and find this asshole.

As if on cue, one of the radios began prattling louder than the others. A few words caught Ruby's attention. 'Cloak'. 'Danger'. 'Sword'. Her arm stretched out. The radio was three feet away. She brought it back to the rest of her. She listened closely, eventually picking up on the words 'Wayne Manor'.

"And Bingo was his name-o." Ruby snatched the walkie-talkie and pushed a button.

Butch's gruff voice came through. "Gilzean."

Ruby sighed. "Pass me Oswald, please."

Butch sniggered. "Why, so you can have phone sex?"

Ruby's face became the color of a pomegranate.

"What are you saying?!" Oswald's voice broke through, hot with anger. "Give me that, you dimwit!" There was a bit of static as the walkie-talkie was passed. A second later that melodic voice came through again, sweet as honey. "Ruby?"

Ruby smirked. "Hey."

"I apologize for such vulgar behavior." Oswald said earnestly. "But rest assured: he'll be changing his tune soon enough."

"I'll bet." Ruby remembered him telling her how he'd chopped off Butch's hand. At the time, she'd pitied the guy. Now that she'd met him...nah. "How's the road trip coming along?"

Oswald moaned. "Please do not ask. Butch has no taste in music, he knows nothing of culture, and his driving skills have gotten rusty."

"Hey!" Butch's distant voice protested. Ruby chuckled.

"What of you, my dear?" Oswald asked. "Have you found that masked menace's location?"

"Yep." Ruby replied proudly. "Apparently, he's at Wayne Manor. I'll start snooping around there."

"Yes, you do that." Oswald replied thoughtfully. "Thank you. We'll catch up. But are you certain that you feel well? When you left, you still had the bandage on your arm."

Ruby held up the arm in question. The elbow had a wad of gauze taped over the puncture wound. In its center was a thick red blob. But it was starting to go brown. "I'll be fine, Oswald. Don't worry. If I start getting woozy, I'll let you know."

"Please do." Oswald said. "And whatever you do, do NOT confront Azrael alone. That man is a beast in human skin."

"I won't." Ruby promised. "Thanks."

There was a tiny pause. "For what?"

"For caring." Ruby replied shyly. She heard a faint choking noise, followed by Oswald's hushed tone. "I could thank you for the very same reason."

Ruby smiled, grateful that he couldn't see her blush. After exchanging their goodbyes, the two hung up. Ruby tucked the walkie-talkie in her pocket. Grateful that Oswald had given her clothes...by taking the suitcase intended for Tabitha, filled with whatever an overnight patient might need. At first, Ruby had felt a little guilty for stealing a bedridden woman's clothes. But a) Ruby needed them more than Tabitha did and b) Tabitha had killed Oswald's mother and gotten away with it.

Cracking both her neck and her knuckles, Ruby spread her arms out like a crucifixion victim. The skin on her arms, sides, and thighs began to stretch out like dough, thinning as it did so. The pieces connected, spreading, flapping in the wind. Within minutes, Ruby had become the human equivalent of a flying squirrel. Only problem was, she had never tried this form before. Oh, and there were thirty stories between her and the ground. So, yeah, she couldn't afford to fuck up.

Ruby squeezed her eyes shut. Leaped.

The wind picked her up, billowing in her makeshift wings. Ruby froze as her body glided, too afraid to move. But after a few minutes of smooth sailing, she slowly began to unwind. With relaxation came excitement. Ruby stared down to make sure it was real. Yep. The skyscrapers rose on either side of her. The cars below were no larger than pinheads, shining bright. Sirens sounded distant from up here. The air was freezing and sharp, like a knife of ice.

The excitement doubled. She, Ruby Anneliese Sinclair, was flying! Her heart burst with joy like a balloon ready to pop. She began whooping and yelling with glee, twirling and swooping as she grew accustomed to this new form. Ruby flapped her wings and rose higher. The icy wind cut like daggers through her clothes and skin, ruffling her hair. Ruby grinned despite the fact that it filled her cheeks with air. Eyed her watch. Okay. It was midnight. She could hold onto this form for six hours. But she wasn't worried. At this speed, Ruby would be at destination in ten minutes.

Howling with victory, Ruby jetted through the muggy night air.

It was amazing to watch the change of scenery as she neared her target. The skyscrapers dropped away like sunburned skin. Fewer lights dotted the landscape. The buildings became spotless villas. Small patches of paradise. Wildlife grew on all sides. It was an inky sea at her feet. Finally, Wayne Manor came into view. It was thrice as large as the Van Dahl mansion. In fact, it looked big enough to be its own state. It had a parking lot and a garden filled with all kinds of fruit trees. Marble, brick, and cement towered triumphantly in the air, speaking of generations-long elegance.

But all the elegance in the world couldn't erase a parent's death.

The question was, what did that beast want with the last Wayne?

"Oh, Azrael," She sang lowly to herself, "come out, come out, wherever you are." From the corner of her eye she spotted the parking lot. Oh, well. It was as good a place to start as any. Slowly, she thrust her feet downward and began to retract her wings. Bit by bit, the skin was reabsorbed. With each lost centimeter she fell a little faster. But not enough to panic. Finally, her feet touched the cracked cement. Ruby held up her arms for inspection. Yep. Perfectly normal once again.

Ruby was about to contact Oswald again (and give Butch a good reply for his earlier comment) when the screeching of tires grated her ears. She spun around as blinding lights burst from the dark. Glass shattered. Ruby ducked behind a tree as a car careened out the door, a man lying on its hood. His hood twisting behind him. Ruby's heart darkened at the sight. Forgetting all about contacting Oswald, she ran out from her hiding spot. Azrael was no longer there. The car skidded to a stop. Ruby turned her head just in time to see a figure climb out of the vehicle.

She froze. Recognition flooded her. It was a young man, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Slender, with fine dark clothes and neatly-combed black hair. His gentle, yet intelligent face had been all over the news a year or so back. If it were possible, he looked even more scared now than he had then.

Ruby immediately understood why.

"Bruce!" Ruby shouted. "Bruce Wayne!"

Bruce looked around in confusion, wondering what stranger knew his name, when a pair of hands clamped on his shoulders. He spun around with his fists raised. Two hands closed around his fists. Yet his shoulders remained bound. "What-?"

"Bruce." A young woman knelt to look him in the eye. He had never seen her before, but there was something about her that soothed him. Like a forgotten friend, or distant relative. The young woman glanced around anxiously before turning back to him. It was then that Bruce noticed that the woman had four arms: two were resting on his shoulders while the other two were holding his fists. It surprised him, yes, but scare him it didn't.

The young woman noticed him staring at her extra limbs. Blushed. "Okay." She said. "My name's Ruby. I don't want to hurt you. If I let go of your fists, will you promise not to hit me?"

Bruce nodded slowly, still watching her. "How are you able to do that?"

Ruby released him. Her extra pair of arms sank back into her sides like melting wax. In a moment, they were gone. Like they'd never been there in the first place. "Let's just say I took my vitamins." Her joking tone vanished instantly. "This is important. Is anyone strange hanging around here?"

"Yes." Bruce looked relieved. He may have been strong, but he was still just a kid. "He..." The young man turned to the car. Gawking in confusion, he knelt before it. Peered under it. Examined the hood. "He was here a moment ago. I don't-"

A whip around his throat cut him off. His hands flew to the cord, trying to tear it off. Wheezes escaped his throat.

"Bruce!" Ruby's fingers were around the leathery vein as well. Pulling and tugging, fearing for the young man. What felt like a truck rammed into her, knocking her to the ground. Ruby groaned, rubbing her throbbing head, as she looked up. There Azrael stood, winding the whip around his hand as he neared Bruce. He began to walk away, dragging the wheezing Bruce behind him like a cow. Bruce, whose face was losing all color, had no choice but to follow.

It was now or never.

Ruby's form melted away, spreading across the pavement. Azrael, barely noticing, stepped right into it. Perfect. With a loud sucking noise the puddle began to bubble. Azrael's feet disappeared into the clay-like substance. His shins. His knees. A now startled Azrael let go of the whip. Bruce toppled to the ground, gasping and choking as he undid the cord. Azrael didn't notice. He just whipped out his sword and started slashing at the substance. "What sorcery is this?!" He demanded. "Reveal yourself, demon!"

"If you insist!" The puddle sped across the cement, taking Azrael with it. The puddle rose, becoming a clay wave, and crashed against the wall. Azrael remained pressed there like a fly in amber. The liquid fell away, quickly reforming into a shuddering Ruby. "God, that was awful!" She commented before running. Kneeling beside the heaving boy, Ruby touched his neck. It was red and slightly scratched, but unharmed. She patted his back. "You okay?"

Bruce managed a nod as he coughed.

Ruby smiled. That smile fell away when a shadow draped across them both. Without thinking she threw herself over Bruce. The sword sliced through her skin as though it were butter. Still she refused to move. "Enough fun and games!" Azrael groaned, as if speaking itself were a burden. He kept jabbing at Ruby. Trying to get her to move. But since she'd expected it, Ruby had turned her skin to clay. No blood came out. No bones were hit. Azrael was hitting a wall. Ruby held on tightly to Bruce.

"Prepare to die!" Azrael demanded.

Ruby glared up. "You first!" Her hair grew as she spoke, winding and twisting, reaching her ankles. It sprung to life and whipped around Azrael. Picked him up and threw him a good three feet away. Ruby smirked. Her hair returned to normal. Rising with Bruce, she kept the young man behind him. Azrael stumbled to his feet, gasping and groaning, before meeting her gaze. Pure hatred simmered from his own. Extracting his sword again, he lunged forward.

Gunshots fired from behind. Ruby lost count how many. Two. Three. Five. A figure appeared from the foggy rear gate. Overcoat flapping. Eyes blazing. Gun raised. Jim Gordon.

Azrael turned to face him. "Unexpected." He murmured.

Jim Gordon emptied his gun on Azrael. At last, the monster fell. Ruby didn't realize how much her body had stiffened until it was over. Jim eyed his kill. Satisfied, he shambled to the duo. "You okay?" He asked Bruce, surveying him for damage. The aristocratic boy nodded. "Yes. Thanks to Ruby here."

Jim suddenly turned to her. Shock draped across his features. Giggling despite how scared she'd been, Ruby held up a peace sign. "Howdy." Jiim stared first at her, then at Bruce. "What-? Why-?"

"I was hunting down the bastard." Ruby explained. "And this is where he decided to swing by." She shook her head at Bruce. "Heads up for next time, kid: never underestimate the whip." She may have been smiling, but her eyes were anxious. They locked with his. Pleading. Bruce seemed to understand what she was asking, for he nodded.

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner." Jim apologized.

In that moment, footsteps closed in on them. Ruby turned, ready for a rematch, when all she saw was a strong-looking man in a butler uniform. She recognized him as well. "Seems like I missed all the fun!" Alfred said with a grin. For a second, he gave Ruby a puzzled frown. But when he saw how easily his ward leaned into her, Alfred relaxed.

"Where've you been?" Jim demanded.

Alfred gave him a look. "I slowed him down for ya, didn't I?" He turned to Ruby. "Young lady, do I know you?"

"No." Ruby smiled. "I don't know Bruce, either." She gestured to the fallen figure. "Mostly, I was after Tall, Dark, and Crazy over there." After a moment, she added, "But I'm glad I was able to help."
"You did more than that." Alfred said. "You saved him." Successfully bottling up his emotions, Alfred offered her his hand. When she shook it, she found it coarse but warm. Alfred looked her in the eye. "You're welcome anytime."

Ruby choked but nodded. While she would never say it, this was the first time she'd used her powers to protect someone. And it felt...good.

"I'll call Bullock." Jim muttered, reaching for his phone.

Ruby smirked, wondering if the bearded cop had cashed in on her necklace yet. Her smirk faded when she looked at the boy.

Bruce's face drained of color. Alfred noticed it first. He was about to ask when Bruce answered, raising a pointed finger. All heads turned and were hammered with shock. Azrael was rising, blood streaked across his face and his body almost too heavy to lift. Almost.

Shock turned to frustration. "Are you serious?!" Ruby screamed.

Jim quickly took hold of his gun again. Alfred hid Bruce behind him. Ruby stood in waiting, her breath frozen in her throat. Jim squeezed the trigger. There came a dry snapping sound...and nothing else.

Azrael's expression didn't change. But his eyes betrayed his inner thoughts. He knew he had the upper hand, and he was going to take full advantage of it.

But he hadn't anticipated one last trick up Ruby's sleeve. The maid stood beside Jim. Whispered in his ear. "Gordon, I need your consent."

Jim frowned without looking away. "What?"

"To use my secret weapon. And I need another person for it. I think you're a good candidate." Ruby whispered quickly. "It's hard to explain. But I'm almost sure we could beat him."

Jim turned to face her. Examining her. Shook his head. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

Ruby bit her lip. "It's not." Sighing, she pushed past him. "Forget it. Let me try." She stood before Azrael. Ignoring the fact that her heart was pounding at a million miles per hour. Azrael seemed amused to see her. Pulled out his sword and held it out. Ruby gulped. Raised her hands, already melting.

"You should know by now that bullets won't kill this monster, Jim."

Ruby dropped her hands slightly. Gasping with anticipation. Oswald emerged from the fog, umbrella in hand. Surrounded by mist, in all his finery, he looked like some mystical prince. Azrael slowly turned, looking confused. Oswald smirked. Trying so hard to contain himself. But he couldn't. This was the man who'd ruined his empire, killed his mother, and sent him to Arkham. He was going to enjoy this like he'd never enjoyed anything before. He rested his umbrella on his shoulder. "My last one got stuck in your throat, so I'm thinking about shoving this one somewhere else." He grinned at the mere image. Excitement brewed within him like hot soup. He raised his voice a bit. "Jim, a little advice for next time: always bring the right tools for the job."

Azrael continued to stand there, as unresponsive as a tree. Staring at him like he was trying to identify him. He suddenly cried out as he fell forward. Landing on his knees. Ruby came up behind him, running with glee. Oswald smiled at the sight of her. Held out his hand to her. She took it. Stood by his side with a proud simper. Oswald stared down at Azrael, thinking how wonderful it was to be able to do so. "See you in Hell, Theo." He moved aside, pulling Ruby with him.

Butch stepped into view, balancing a bazooka on his meaty shoulder. Azrael, who hadn't bothered getting up, stared at it. "Oooooh." He moaned. Jim, Alfred, and Bruce quickly moved out of the way. Butch took aim. Pressed a button. A hissing, fiery missile flew out of the weapon's muzzle. Azrael closed his eyes. It was the last thing he'd ever do.

The missile hit its target. Flesh and organs alike burst into flames.

Oswald sighed contently. Ruby grinned. Leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I've always loved fireworks." Oswald smirked and looped an arm around her shoulder. An impressive feat, considering she was a head taller than him. Jim, Bruce, and Alfred left their hiding spot, staring at the blazing carnage with wide eyes.

"You're welcome!" Oswald called. Keeping a gentle hold on Ruby, he began to turn around. "Let's go, Butch." Butch obeyed. But not before waving at the three men and yelling, "Night, fellas!"

The three stood there, stunned. Alfred raised his own hand in salutations.