Chapter 2 – Black as ebony
Not only was Gotham depraved, but so were the whole United States, Damian was starting to think. Why else would they allow their children to roam the streets, tricking and yelling, like undisciplined peasants? Especially dressed-up in such way that hardly differentiated them from foes.
If a villain was to show up to kill them all, it would be hard not to say they called it upon themselves.
"Stop brooding", Nightwing said, landing next to him. "Next year, I'll ask Babs to take up the earliest part of patrol so we can go ringing a few bells, ourselves."
"I am not crude as to go beg for sweets I can very well buy for myself!" Damian protested. "And you should stop using names while we are on duty."
"It's not like there isn't at least ten Nightwings in the crowd downstairs", the older man pointed out.
Damian tutted his disapproval. One would have to be blind to mistake the muscular, gracious man at his side with any of the pretenders above. Or any of them, for that matter. He certainly wasn't a clumsy child, himself!
"I don't see why father wouldn't have me handle my usual patrol route", Damian grumbled instead.
"Several of the usual suspects are likely to act on a day like Halloween", Grayson explained, as patient as he had not said so several times already since Batman had made his decision known to Damian.
"I could take them!"
"I guess thinking so is part of being Robin", Grayson admitted in a slightly amused tone.
How dare he compare Damian again and again with his predecessors! But Grayson shook his head before he could protest out loud.
"I was talking about myself. The first time I was really afraid for my life – for Batman's life, in danger because of me… It happened precisely because I tried to take one of those by myself. I hope you will learn to trust our advice concerning your strength before experiencing something like that."
Damian straightened, annoyed at his patronizing. He knew his strength, and could demonstrate it if only they didn't shelter him so!
"It was Two-Face", Grayson kept going. "I was scared shitless. You really should be more aware of danger."
"Huh. If you wanted to label me as a child and keep me away from danger, maybe you shouldn't have make me Robin", Damian pointed out.
Grayson laughed at that.
"Like you of all Robins would have been safe if you hadn't started the job."
Damian snorted. At least Nightwing was aware of that.
They resumed their route but the whole conversation left Damian unsatisfied. Grayson always told him he knew how strong he was, and yet he would keep babysitting him. How could Damian prove his worth if he was to stay down at any danger? He was able to vanquish Two-Face, or even the Joker! If he could show them as much, they would finally show him the respect he deserved.
Unfortunately, the Joker had not shown himself since summer. And even that last time, Damian had been ordered to go back to the Cave – and not even that had he been allowed to do alone! Nightwing had followed him while Batman and Batgirl handled the villain. They had not even managed to arrest him: he had gotten away, as he would not if only they had allowed Damian to help!
"Stop brooding, or I'm calling Jay so he can tell you to stop."
"Since when do you need his help to assert your authority?" Damian mocked.
Nightwing stuck his tongue out, always the mature one. Damian rolled his eyes and landed on some gargoyle to look around. It was still early and the streets were full of people; there was little chance of anything happening at this hour.
Fireworks exploded above their heads, making Damian jump. How careless were they to provide such a noisy cover for any criminal who would be up to no good!
"Let's move", Grayson said, obviously agreeing with his point of view though since he didn't point out how pretty the lights were. Prettiness didn't make them any less dangerous.
Of course, Nightwing would know that.
"Anything on your side?" Batman voice asked in their com link.
"Nothing yet", Grayson answered. "Batgirl?"
"Sometimes we have holidays without anyone stupid enough to do something while we are on maximum alert", she pointed out.
"If we were, Jay would have come back from Metropolis", Damian commented.
"Maybe he will enjoy Halloween for once", Grayson muttered, mostly to himself. Then he saw Damian looking at him, and grinned. Of course.
"I'm sure I will enjoy it."
Batgirl's laugh echoed in the com.
"Thirsty for blood, Robin? Makes me feel nostalgic."
Damian groaned, irritated. They shared a long history, very well, they didn't have to talk about it at every occasion. Though this time, he did understand what she meant: she was certainly comparing him to Todd. As if they were similar in any way.
More fireworks were fired – then Damian frowned. No pretty lights. Those weren't fireworks.
"Gunshots on Park Row!" Batgirl said quickly in the com. "There apparently is someone firing in the crowd. Everyone was looking at the sky, they must have used silencers, with the noise… God, several kids are down already."
"Make sure the police forces handle the panicking people", Batman quiet voice commanded. "The priority for them is to prevent any crown movement which would hurt more people and allow the shooters to run away. Keep informing us while they receive information. Nightwing, Robin, you are in Park Row already. Go. I'll join you."
They were flying already while Batgirl gave them more precise coordinates. Batman was right: it was very near their current position. It took them less than two minutes to arrive on site.
Everyone was panicking and the howling sirens from the police cars incoming was not helping. Several bodies laid on the ground, dressed-up kids with dark capes… or yellow capes. Or green capes.
"Nightwing…"
"Batman", Grayson said in the com link, livid. "Whoever is here is targeting kids in Batman and Robin costumes."
"What? Robin, stand down, I repeat…"
Damian didn't wait for either of them to stop him; he jumped in the crowd.
sososo
Dick acted on instinct, following Robin – but they were so many people, running everywhere, and screams, and parents bending over their children's limp bodies. Another gunshot echoed and, this time, it wasn't silenced. It only made people panic even more which probably had been the point.
"Robin!" Dick called.
He had lost contact, damnit, how could he have lost him in this situation! Damian was nothing but effective, Dick rationalized. The kids – God, some were so young – had been thrown by the impact, which gave an idea of where it had come from. Dick ran in that direction, jumping over people's head – and yes, they were running from there, from the danger.
"Nightwing, status", ordered Batman's icy voice in his hear.
Dick gritted his teeth.
"I lost Robin", he had to admit. "I'll find him."
He had to.
Batman didn't answer, probably too busy speeding to reach their position quicker. All the better, because Dick was doing exactly the same, praying to get there in time, because he didn't want this to happen again, never again, and Damian was not ready, and…
"Aaaw, isn't that a birdie!"
Dick paled but didn't slow down. The crowd was thinning with everyone running the other way. He saw the flicker of a cape and he just – jumped – pushing Damian aside – fire in his shoulder – and rolled with him on the grass, protecting him with his whole body.
"Nightwing!" Damian protested. Then his eyes widened. "Are you hurt?"
Dick forced a smile on his lips but didn't have the time to answer: the Joker resumed firing at them, chuckling madly. They separated, rolling each on one side. Dick threw two wing-dings in the same movement, not well aimed but enough to make the Joker look for cover.
Dick got himself behind a car and realized Damian had had the same reflex than him, but with a better aim: one of the Joker's guns was lying on the ground. Considering the brat's training, it might not have been luck. He looked around and saw him safely hiding behind a dumpster; good enough for now.
"Birdie, birdie", the Joker sneered.
Damian tensed, making Dick go livid. No, not against him – there was no way he would let him. And to avoid that, the best way probably would be to distract him until Bruce arrived.
"Come on, Joker", Dick said. "You don't expect us to come forward while you're firing at us, do you? I mean, it wouldn't even be funny."
"I beg to differ, my dear", the Joker protested. "I think it would be lovely to see you limping on the ground. Then we would see if you are, indeed able to fly, wouldn't we?"
"You still consider me as a bird. I'm flattered."
"Well you do call yourself Nightwing, don't you? Though I like to call you birdie more. I mean, you laugh too beautifully to be the night, don't you?"
Dick could see Damian's eyes grow wider at every exchange. Maybe he was starting to get how crazy the guy was. Though it was strange; the Joker always liked to talk, but he never acted for no purpose. And right now? Dick was trying to play for time, but…
So was the Joker.
Dick clenched his teeth. There was nothing he could do. Keeping Robin safe was the priority. He couldn't do that if Damian attacked the Joker, which he would do at the first opportunity. Dick hoped Bruce would be there soon because though the bullet didn't actually penetrate his shoulder, it still scratched it badly. He could feel blood soaking his suit. He didn't have much time before passing out.
"You're making me blush, here", he finally said. "That compliment, from you? Batman is going to get jealous."
"I'm sorry to say he never was one with a smile on his face", the Joker sighed.
Dick's eyes widened. Was? What had the Joker done to Bruce? No. Impossible. Bruce wasn't there yet and the Joker hadn't left, he had not done anything to him. But then, why the past tense? Or had he left?
Dick took the risk the glance above the car's hood. A bullet soon ricochet on it, thankfully missing him. The Joker was still there. So what? What was his plan?
"Ah, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you know", the Joker said suddenly. "I wouldn't want the big guy to catch up, right? See you soon, dear bird!"
He expected them to let him go…? Dick gasped.
"Robin, down!"
Thankfully, Damian listened – just in time. The building behind the Joker exploded in one big bang, then two others on the side. When Dick got back to his feet, the Joker was indeed gone. He wasn't his priority anyway. He went to Damian and grabbed him by the arm.
"To the Cave."
"But he's getting away!"
"Now!" Dick ordered.
Damian broke away from him. Dick winced at the sudden movement. His shoulder really needed some stiches. Soon.
Damian stopped.
"You are hurt", he accused.
"Yes. You will have to drive us back."
"But…"
Damian looked at the flaming building, hesitating. Well, at least, he wasn't running after the Joker all by himself this time.
"No 'but'." Dick didn't give him the opportunity to protest further and activated his com. "Batman? Robin and I are retreating with the Batmobile. He isn't injured. The Joker is on the loose. Three buildings have been destroyed but I see the GCPD arriving, they will handle this."
"I'll pursue", Batman answered, and Dick knew him enough to hear both the relief and the doubtfulness in his voice.
If the Joker didn't want to get caught for a little fight this time, there was little chance that Batman could find him, especially since he was only going to arrive in two more minutes at best. And the chances were the Joker didn't want to be found, considering what he said.
"We'll have to debrief later", Dick concluded. Then, hesitating, he added. "But, B.… This time, he wasn't there for you."
sososo
The evening had been wonderful. It had started with a gift. For him. From the Joker! Tim had beamed at him when he had been presented with the red-wrapped box.
"Come one, my dear. Do open it", the Joker had prompted.
So Tim had, grinning. It had contained a tailor-made suit. For him. And entirely black: black shirt, black pants, black waistcoat, black tie, black jacket. There even had been a black handkerchief for him to put in his front pocket.
The color of the night, instead than the sepia tones used for his clothes until now. And those were grown man wear, not cute little kid ones. Tim had gasped with pleasure.
"For me? Really?"
"I'm sorry about the lack of color but I thought you might want to go unnoticed for your first night out."
That's when Tim had started laughing with delight.
"Come on, put it on!"
Tim had. It had fit perfectly, even the gloves – a thoughtful touch. At the bottom of the box, a small, black gun and his matched holster had been waiting for him as well. Tim had let the Joker buckle it on him, blushing.
"It fits your perfectly, my dear."
The evening then only went from good to better. They had walked around together, no one noticing them in the middle of the masquerading crowd. Tim had his left hand in the Joker's right, and his right hand holding his gun. They had reached a park and kissed as the fireworks started above their heads. Then Tim had smiled lovingly, aimed for a little boy dressed up as Robin (as Robin!) and fired.
It had been so fun! The parents hadn't realized what happened at first, with all the noise. The first mom had actually scolded her kid for falling on the ground. Tim had fired three more Robin wanna-bes before someone started screaming, and the Joker had managed to do five Batboys in the same time – because he was the best, of course.
Unfortunately, they had had to cut it short. Panicking people were so amusing but, boringly, they had called the police – which meant the Bats also intervened. Tim had sneered when he caught a glimpse of Robin's cape but the Joker had pushed him gently away.
"Come on, now, this isn't planned for today. Be a good kid."
So Tim had given him his gun and received a few explosives in exchange. Planting them all around to allow the Joker to make his escape had been all too easy. They made it back to the flat almost at the same time.
The Joker grinned at him, the hands full of candies.
"Wanna some?"
Tim laughed and kissed him. They ate candies on the bed, then fucked in the middle of the wraps.
Tim had never felt happier in his life.
sososo
Gotham's air always tasted like steel, garbage and dust, wherever you stood. Even on the GCPD rooftop, one wasn't clean from the air pollution. One couldn't be blamed for preferring to taste tobacco instead, Jim thought.
"This isn't right", Batman stated.
Jim raised his eyebrows at him. There were alone and the signal wasn't on; this wasn't official business.
"This is Gotham, son. Whenever has anything been right?"
Batman growled. Jim took another puff.
"So. The Joker, then. As far as we know, he had two guns: the right hand for Robins and the left one of Batmen. He killed nine of them in a few minutes only. It does fit his MO."
"It doesn't", Batman contradicted him. "He usually goes for theatrics like this to get at me. But he didn't wait for me. He got away."
"You mean this was an introduction to something worse."
Batman didn't pace – it didn't fit his persona – but he looked like he wished he could.
"Maybe."
"What do you think, son?"
"I don't know!" Batman snapped. Then sighed. "I'm sorry, Jim. I'm a bit on edge lately."
"You were hardly out, lately", Jim corrected softly.
Batman tensed but Jim didn't add anything to that. He didn't know the specifics anyway. He merely had eyes to notice Robin had suddenly disappeared from the roof and, at the same time, Batman had suddenly changed voice. Not that Nightwing had even tried to pretend to be the same person, all grinning and calling him 'commissioner'. Huh.
And now, Batman was Batman again and there was another Robin.
After a while, Batman relaxed. Exhaustion was showing on his face. Jim crushed his cigarette on the roof border.
"Usually we work double-shifts when he's out", Jim said. "But it's been six months since his breakout; I had to drop it after one, we're only people. Last week was the first time we heard about him."
"He is up to something."
"When isn't he?" Jim sighed.
Batman had no answer to that.
"I'll put a team on this", Jim finally said. "Since we know he's in Gotham, now. But if he lies low for more than a month again, it will have to be volunteers."
Batman looked at him. Jim snorted.
"Yes, I know. There's going to be a queue."
To say some people thought Batman never smiled.
"You'd better bench the kids, though."
"Batgirl is on monitoring duty", Batman answered quickly. Then groaned. "She should also be able to make sure Robin doesn't get out of the Cave."
Jim chuckled.
"Kids, right?"
Batman groaned again. Jim smiled, remembering a younger, harsher man, so sure he would be able to save Gotham all by himself, not trusting anyone but himself, even not cops – which, at the time, meant he at least had some sense. It had taken a tragedy and the smile of a sunny boy to drag him out of his own darkness. And now – well, he had a family. Jim considered it a good thing.
"So how are the kids? Don't tell me about Nightwing, I really don't want to know", he added, teasing.
Batman didn't blush, because Batman could not, in fact, blush. He defaulted to blank whenever embarrassed and that happened very rarely.
"He is fine."
"What about the others? I know Jay is retired. Robin seems even worse than he was, though."
Batman might not blush but he could look as if he had bitten into a lemon.
"It is a way to put it."
Jim laughed softly. He was about to ask another question when Batman suddenly retreated into the shadows. Then he heard steps and steel creaking, the noise of someone climbing the stairs to the roofs, panting and cursing. Bullock, then.
The door opened.
"When will you finally stop coming up here to brood?" Bullock groaned. "It's bad for my health."
"Probably the day you'll start washing that mouth of yours", Jim amiably answered. "What happened?"
"Is the Bat there?"
Jim rolled his eyes.
"Do I look like a seer to you?"
"He'd better come quickly if he ain't, 'cause we found somethin'."
Jim sighed. That usually meant a corpse, especially if Bullock took the time to come up the roof himself.
"Like what?"
"Like a corpse."
No surprise, there. But then Bullock took a step forward, his face grim, and added:
"Harley Quinn's corpse."
sososo
The day had started like this.
Tim had woken up content. The bed was still warm from the sex they had had the night before – it was getting better, good even – and full of the Joker's smell. He had lounged there for some time, enjoying the feeling of safety. He was not used to it yet. If felt even better than the sex.
Then he had gotten up because the sun was getting high and, who knew? Maybe the Joker would be there soon. He had showered, and pointedly not combed his hair. He hated it anyway. The Joker wouldn't leave him now, or ever, they were so great together!
He put on his black shirt and pants and waistcoat, then one of the Joker's purple jackets because, smell. He ate a few candies because they smelled like him, then took care of his new, shining gun – he'd have to get more of those, and maybe a few knives too, if the Joker would teach him – then looked at the boring, gray outside.
The clock was ticking and the time passing. The sun set. No stars started shining because, Gotham – all pollution and no style. Tim waited. And waited.
No one came.
At nine, he started pacing.
It was alright. He was late. Actually, he wasn't; he hadn't actually confirmed he would be there. Tim had just gotten used to the Joker spending all his nights at the flat but there had been a time when he did not. He had made Tim beg for him to stay there. It was just – since last week – it had been every night. So maybe Tm had assumed…
But it was alright if he wasn't there. Totally alright.
(Right?)
At ten, he was chewing on his gloves.
Why didn't he call? He had checked the news, there had been no explosions around Gotham so he wasn't busy. Did something happen to him? Tim rolled his eyes by hearing himself think that. How stupid. Nothing could happen to the Joker. He happened to people.
By eleven, he had gone through all the stages of desperation.
Why wasn't he there? Did he left him? No. No, no, no. He had been a good boy!
He hasn't been abandoned again!
At midnight, Tim finally remembered that he wasn't locked in anymore. He could just walk out to find him.
He started by the warehouse.
It was a new one, of course; the place which had held Tim had been compromised by his little yoga therapy – oops – and they had had to burn it down to cover their tracks. But warehouses were like fungus in Gotham: they grew up everywhere and you usually found a lot more of them than you'd like. The bright side of it was, they were real cheap.
Tim arrived there pissed, because he had had to leave the too recognizable Joker's jacket at the flat and borrow some passerby's coat since he didn't have one. He had not killed the guy, of course. It would have been the best way to lose the flat too and he liked the flat, it was his place. Kind of like a home, only better, because the Joker visited him there.
The warehouse was full of boxes full of weapons, and also a few candy machines and carnival decors. There were, however, a few habitable rooms on the back. Tim knew that was where the Joker spent his time when he wasn't at the flat, mostly with Harley Quinn. That also was where she lived. If the Joker wasn't there, she would know where he was.
She'd better, anyway.
Turned out Tim didn't have to ask. He heard the moans even before reaching the bedroom and they were explicit enough. Strangely, he felt himself relax while he approached. The door wasn't even closed. He leaned on the doorframe, watching.
Harley was riding him, gasping at every thrust, giggling, her plastic-perfect breast bouncing at the same rhythm than her bunches. He was grinning, of course, and his grin widened even more when he saw him.
"Does she feel as good as me?" Tim snorted.
The Joker laughed while Harley snarled. She couldn't get to Tim without stopping, though, and since she'd finally managed to get him to fuck her, there were very little chances that she would do just that. Tim smirked.
"So?"
"Feels different", the Joker answered, chuckling.
"Different how?"
"Get the hell out, birdie", Harley barked.
The Joker ignored her to answer Tim's question.
"Wetter", he said. "Softer."
But not better, Tim noted. His smirk widened.
"Do you think she would feel as good if she was dead?" he asked amiably.
Harley didn't even have the decency to look afraid. Instead, she smiled at him vengefully and rode the Joker harder. That got a moan out of him and she smirked. Tim had not stopped smiling, himself, and he got his gun out.
"I hoped you would finally have learnt that I am no bird anymore, Harleen."
She didn't even squeal when the bullet hit her. No sense of dramatic. The blood splashed nicely on the Joker, though, who laughed harder. Tim blew his gun's barrel like a cowboy then put it back in his holster. The Joker was still moving but apparently wasn't satisfied with a corpse's lack of responsiveness.
They pushed it aside and Tim removed his pants and guided him in, deep. It hurt, but not as much as the first time. The Joker fucked him, laughing, and Tim started to laugh as well, like this was the best joke ever. It took them quite a while to finish because, they, laughing so hard and fucking at the same time wasn't given to just anybody.
They dumped her naked corpse in Gotham's river later in the night. She would resurface but the water would clean up any evidence.
They walked away hand in hand, not even waiting for the body to sink below the surface.
sososo sososo
Ending notes:
I have to point out that I actually like Harley, enough so to have cosplayed her once. Unfortunately, Tim has obvious reasons not to.
Please let me know if you like the story so far :)