The sound of a nearby helicopter caused Barbara and I to cease our PDA and look up at the flying vehicle. It hovered near the mall's roof, awaiting its passengers.
"Dad's still up there!" Barbara gasped, pointing. "Where are they taking him?"
My answer was cut off by a blast that blew a chunk off the wall beside us. I pulled Babs close and huddled against it as the ground shook from the arrival of the militia's tanks. More and more blasts bombarded the crumbling barrier.
"Where's Bruce?" Barbara shouted over the noise. "And the Batmobile?"
"Er, Bruce had to call in sick," I explained hurriedly, ducking to avoid another round of heavy fire. "And the Batmobile's been destroyed."
"What?" she exclaimed, eyes wide behind her lenses.
"No worries," I replied, grinning cockily. "A certain Lucius Fox can hook us up with a spare." Barbara gave me a scathing glare, obviously not in the mood for my quips.
"Alright, alright," I groaned, rolling my eyes. Pressing some keys on my gauntlet, the roar of the Batwing soon filled the night sky, drowning out the tanks' cacophony. It was here. Sure enough, my remote control linked up to the new Batmobile immediately.
"Now we're talking," I chuckled, taking control of the armored vehicle. I activated its combat mode, and its main cannon tore into the attacking drones.
"Sir, that car has a full suite of upgrades, including a drone hacking device," Alfred told me through the Batmobile's communicator.
"Good to know," I nodded, firing a swarm of missiles at the remaining tanks. They exploded like firework shells, their sparking pieces scattering all over the street. After taking care of the stragglers, I directed the Batmobile to park next to our position.
"We're safe," Barbara sighed. She looked into my eyes once more, face full of gratitude. "Thank you, Tim. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to repay what you guys have done to find me."
"Anytime, Babs," I smiled warmly, kissing her forehead.
"Miss Gordon?!" Alfred squawked, making us start. I'd forgotten that he was still listening in. "Is that you?"
We shared a confused look. Barbara moved closer to the headset in my ear to speak to the butler.
"Um...yeah," she replied, "It's me, Alfred. Tim and I were able to get away from Scarecrow."
A pregnant pause followed. "Er, my apologies, Miss Gordon. It's just that Master Bruce was convinced that you were quite deceased when he'd found you."
"He thought I was dead?" Barbara questioned, shooting me a quizzical look. "Did he tell you that, Tim?"
I shook my head. "Bruce told me not to worry; that you were fine. Guess he really was lying to me." I added bitterly.
"Scarecrow," Barbara deduced, "He must have tricked Batman into thinking I was gone. Who knows how much fear toxin he's been exposed to?"
"Tell me about it," I shuddered, remembering the visions that had assaulted me when I'd been taking out the Cloudburst. "Let's get back to GCPD. We'll be safer there."
I was just about to get up and carry Barbara to the Batmobile when a new presence made itself known. "There you guys are!" Nightwing yelled, running over to us. He skidded to a stop, crouching down in front of us. "I wasn't sure what to do when I saw all those tanks rolling in!"
"Good to see you, too, Dick," Barbara smiled, happy to see another friendly face. The vigilante ceased his rambling, a warm grin spreading across his face.
"I'm glad you're safe, Babs," he sighed, pulling us both into a hug.
"Ack!" I protested, his grip aggravating some of my wounds. "Dick, my whole body's still sore!" I squirmed to get away, knowing all too well that it would be in vain. Dick and Barbara laughed at my antics, and I couldn't help but grin, albeit tiredly. The cheerful moments we spent together before Gotham fell apart seemed so far away. It was nice to have a little reminder of what we were fighting to regain.
"Alright, enough with this fluffy crap," I announced, pulling away from Nightwing and gathering Oracle in my arms. "We've still got work to do." My two companions nodded in agreement, all business once more. I pushed myself off the ground, grunting through the pain burning through my injured bicep. Nightwing took notice and put a steady hand on my shoulder, leading us to the Batmobile.
"You're hurt," Barbara exclaimed worriedly as I secured her in the car's backseat. I glanced at my arm, blood already seeping through the bandages.
"It's nothing. I just need some stitches. We can get patched up when we reach the headquarters," I replied, motioning to her many bruises and cuts.
"Wait, Robin," Nightwing interjected, coming forward and leaning against the Batmobile. "You never told us what happened to Batman."
I tried not to fidget as he and Oracle eyed me questioningly. This was not going to be a fun trip down memory lane.