5. One for One
"Part of the deal was that you tell me the truth," Damian said, scowling heavily at Jason as they sat for lunch. They were both in sparring outfits; Jason had decided it best to figure out just how far Damian's skills had diminished. Damian had been disgusted with his own performance, feeling slow and sluggish in moves that previously had been second nature. He hadn't admitted it, but he was glad for their break.
"I don't know how many different ways I can say 'they waltzed in and took Alfred' before I feel like punching you," Jason said, glancing down into his MRE and shaking it a little before taking a bite. He seemed largely unaffected by the mysterious flavoring, though Damian's stomach still did flip flops when trying to consume it. The package said 'chili with beans' but he wouldn't be surprised if it was really packaged wookie meat.
"Eat it. You need the calories," Jason said off hand, as Damian set his down and pushed it away.
"Don't change the subject. I want to know how they were able to get Pennyworth. Why was he not in a safe place?"
"He wanted to stay, and keep a watch on the Manor, and the cave. It was the most likely location that an alarm would be sent to by Bruce." He was twirling his would-be spaghetti on his utility fork, and Damian thought the tomato sauce looked like congealing blood.
"He's an old man, you could have removed him," Damian scoffed. Jason gave a bark of laughter, sending bits of red shooting towards him. Damian reeled back, revolted, and reached up to wipe some off his face.
"I wish to return to the cave," he glared. "I have more supplies there, I doubt Father would have discarded my belongings." Bruce Wayne was a sentimental old coot, as hard and gruff as he was. He'd kept Todd's uniform on display for a good long while, Damian knew, and wondered what his father had erected for him. Only for a moment did he imagine it, because soon enough pangs of remorse gripped him. It was a feeling that made him uncomfortable, so he shifted on the floor and pressed on. "It would certainly be better accommodations than this."
"Can't," Jason said, sobering this time. He set down his bag of luke-warm noodles and reached for a power bar. Maybe he couldn't stand the taste, after all. "Alfred executed Order 77-X on his way out."
Damian stared at him.
Order 77-X was a maneuver of last resort, that could only be executed by very few. Even Damian had never known the code, and he was certain that Todd hadn't.
Order 77-X would level the cave. Explosions would render every exit rubble, would rupture the platforms they kept their gear on. It would fry the computers and sever all possible communications. The cave would effectively become a tomb for everything that helped to make Batman possible.
"It was better than letting Owlman get his grubby little mitts all over everything. He knew how to access it, it must've been the same back on his world," Jason was saying, but Damian still felt like he was reeling at the news. Jason studied him carefully, his eyes narrowed. "You'd think I just said that Alfie blew himself up."
Damian blinked. "Owlman must have been livid," he said. Jason shrugged and looked away, tossing a power bar towards Damian. He stood up, his own bar hanging out of the corner of his mouth like a strange rectangular cigar.
It was Damian's turn to narrow his eyes. He couldn't help but feel that despite their pact, Jason was keeping details from him. So be it. If Jason was only going to partially keep his end of the deal, he could pull the same thing.
But first, important things.
"Where is Titus?"
"Staying with Barbara. Now get up, we have some more training to do."
They were disturbed several hours later by a call coming through on Jason's comm, that had them both heading back inside. Damian was quietly pleased about the distraction; his body was beginning to ache and he was more than irritated at Jason's 'training' methods.
"What?" Jason asked, as he turned on the monitor and Barbara came into view on the screen.
"Owlman sighting down on Tynant, at the Century building," Barbara said, her brows creased in heavy concentration and her own screen reflecting off her glasses. Her video feed minimized into the corner as she brought several other screens up onto the shared monitor.
"Any sign of-"
"No. He appeared alone."
Damian and Jason watched the replayed footage of Owlman swooping off a building with Batman's grace before stalking into the alley between the Century building and an unnamed office.
"Isn't this where we saw him a few weeks ago?" Jason asked, and Barbara nodded as she brought up a map that was clearly marking their known sightings of him, as well as his movements. This was the first time he had gone back to the same place. "Is there any significance to that spot? I checked them out with Roy, there was nothing there," Jason said.
"Are you kidding?" Damian asked, suddenly, and a real-life pair of eyes, as well as a set of virtual ones, whirled upon him. Damian grunted in indignation, and elbowed Jason out of the way so he could get closer to the screen. It was so much smaller than the ones that were now lying in the rubble of the once-Batcave.
"Here. Here, here," Damian said, tracing his finger along the map and hovering over several locations where Owlman or Talon had apparently been seen at one point or another. "These are all hidden entrances to abandoned smuggling tunnels."
Barbara began typing away furiously at her computer, the sound of her clacking audible over the link.
"I don't have any record of these," She said after a moment, a look of concentration on her face as she continued to search.
"They are well-hidden," Damian said.
"I can see everything in the area via old satellite imagery. Nothing weird from old thermals. No old Gotham pipework, or anything like that," Barbara was saying, clearly shifting through old footage since nothing new except video feeds she had hacked were available anymore.
"We've checked them all out, too," Jason mused.
"Well obviously you didn't know what you were looking for," Damian grunted. "They are spaces camouflaged by other spaces. Grayson and I found them when we were trying to track a thief. We thought he was a meta-human at first who had some sort of teleportation ability, for the way he seemed to vanish so quickly. It took us awhile to figure out how he was doing it." Damian looked thoughtful for a moment, before he leaned back and crossed his arms. "There's information of this on the server. Surely you have a backup of Batman's documents."
Barbara leaned back, looking surely. "He's probably got backups somewhere. I don't."
"Babs here and Brucey weren't exactly getting along when he decided to pull the fast one," Jason said, clapping Damian on the shoulder.
"Well. It's a good thing you have me, then," Damian said, snidely.
"Some people would say having a pet tiger is a good thing, but no one ever really agrees with them," Jason said. Damian ignored the comment and leaned forward to examine the map again.
"Why would Grayson have revealed the locations to Owlman? Surely they wouldn't be an exact replica from his planet, based on the perpetual changes of urban scrawl alone."
"You need to quit watching HGTV, kid," Jason muttered.
"If I didn't know about these places, you can bet Grid doesn't. Maybe Dick bargained for a safe place to keep Alfred away from him. Is there anything room-sized down there, little D?"
"Yes, several. They were once used for storage," Damian said. Even so, the thought of Pennyworth hidden away in one of the damp, dingy places did not sit well with him. Certainly Grayson would not have agreed to that.
"Right. Suit up then, kid," Jason said. Damian didn't need asking twice, and lurched towards the other side of the room. He could hear Barbara speaking over the monitor.
"Is he really ready?" Damian glanced back, and saw Jason shrug as he leaned forward, his hand hovering over the monitor.
"I need him to show me those spots. Comm me any updates." There was a static bzzz of the monitor powering down, and they returned to their corners to change into their appropriate outfits. Damian was grabbing the black costume he had arrived in when something soft but heavy hit him in the back.
He grabbed a handful of fabric that was now draping over his shoulder, and pulled. He found himself holding a gray and black Kevlar weave, all of it very familiar down to a dulled stealth version of his classic R.
"Found it in Wingding's safe house. Thought it would be useful. Might be a bit small, I dunno."
"Do you think it wise to advertize Robin here?" Damian asked, sounding slightly skeptical. He kept his voice contained, though inside his stomach tightened. The idea of donning his old costume again- even an off-color version- made him feel more at home than anything could.
"I don't think it'll matter much. They'll perceive us as an enemy either way, thanks to your little stunt a few days ago. Besides, you'll need the armor. Gear belt's hanging over there. Suit up."
45 minutes later, Red Hood and Robin were crawling down a narrow access pipe half way across the city. They were making slow progress, sweeping for traps as they went. Damian had selected an entrance that had yet to be used by Owlman in hopes of avoiding them, but if Owlman was anything like Batman (which they knew he was) his paranoia would have him setting up snares at all potential entrances to his lair. Except unlike Batman, his would likely be specially branded to maim or kill.
"How did you guys even find this place?" Jason muttered; his shoulders just brushing either side of the tunnel. It was brick-lined and slippery, and moved at a steep downward angle. They'd anchored cords at the top and went down feet-first. Jason was forced to stoop and descend awkwardly on his knees, his neck craned to once side.
"Patience and fine detective work. Two things you clearly lack, or you would have located the entrances by now," Damian said.
"You, patient? Does that make me the King of England?"
"Perhaps the Queen."
"...Well she's still alive and kicking, so I'll take what I can get. Stop."
"What are you-"
"Stop," Jason hissed, reaching out to grab Damian's hood. The boy looked up in annoyance, but Jason held up his hand sharply to silence him, before he pointed down to the bottom of the chute.
It was clear now, because a faint light had appeared. The chute seemed to open nearly level with the ground; a shadow passed by the two-by-two foot square opening. A moment later, a voice wafted up the tunnel. The words could not be made out, but the accent was distinctly British.
"Pennyworth," Damian hissed. Reaching down, he swiftly unbuckled his safety cord. He felt Jason try to grab him, and hissed at him to stop again- but it was too late. Damian allowed gravity to take over. He slid swiftly down the chute, his heels clicked together sharply before him and his hands guiding himself along the rough walls.
He popped free of the wall twenty-five feet down, into a much wider tunnel. The circle of light had moved beyond the entrance, but it stopped abruptly and turned around.
It only took moments for Damian to realize that something was wrong. The man that stood before him in a black suit, holding aloft a lantern, was not in fact the kindly yet fierce Butler who resided in Wayne Manor. The man's face was deathly pale and white, his hair green. Very much so a geriatric Joker.
Damian's eyes narrowed.
"Imposter," He spat, his hand flying for his belt.
"Ha. And you are, boy?" He asked. His left hand began to move upward; Damian flung a well-aimed batarang to knock his hand away from whatever he had been reaching for. The man seemed largely non pulsed.
"Surely you didn't think I was talking to myself, boy." His eyes flicked upward, and Damian turned just in time to witness a fist flying into his face. He fell to the ground, hard. The Pennyworth Imposter stepped to the side to avoid the fight, moving along the wall.
Damian squinted upward through his watering eyes (his nose definitely felt cracked) and found himself staring up into a round pair of reflective goggles, the face of an Owl embolden on his chest.
"Hasn't anyone told you birds aren't frightening, Imposter?" He growled, pulling his feet back to his chest and kicking upward. Owlman easily dodged, but allowed Damian to regain his feet. Damian really wished he'd brought a katana; slicing the man's smug expression right off his face would have been all too satisfying.
Owlman easily sidestepped Damian's roundhouse kick, and reached out to stop his ankle dead in the air. Damian tripped, and found himself hanging awkwardly upside down. The man lifted slightly, looking down at him. The 'R' residing on his own chest swung into view.
"Hasn't anyone told you that….Robin?" The man's lip twitched slightly, and Damian took it as a sign of surprise. "I was under the impression that your breed was extinct," he said. He swung to the side, sending Damian crashing into the wall. "I was also under the impression that they were trained by your Batman. Perhaps it is you who is the imposter."
Damian looked up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. His eyes narrowed.
"Unfortunately for you, I already have one of your kind in a larger model." Owlman said. Damian could just make out a glint of steel in his hand, and detected the micro movement of the man's arm reeling back to attack when they were all interrupted by a faint whistle.
Jason stood in front of the chute that they had descended down together, his arm wrapped taught about the green-haired Alfred's throat. He had a pistol pressed against his temple.
"Uh-uh," Jason warned; Owlman's hand had twitched in preparation to attack.
"Release him," Owlman growled. The likeness to Batman's voice was uncanny.
"Alright. And then maybe he can make us some tea, for our tea party. Since I'm the Queen," Jason drawled, tightening his grip on the man until he made a choking noise. Damian quickly regained his footing and slid past Owlman to head for his partner.
"I propose a trade. This model for ours," Jason went on. "You should hope he's in good shape, because if he's not Greeny here is gonna become a mirror." Jason shifted slightly beside the chute, and as he did so Damian saw the line he had used to descend down wrapped around the thin man's waist. One quick tug and it would recoil, pulling the Pennyworth up and away.
"Release him, and I may allow you both to leave," Owlman said, his hand resting on his belt. He shifted his pointer finger to the side and depressed a button; and immediately there was the faint, high-pitched whine of several remote detonation devices gearing up.
"So you would do that, crush yourself?" Jason said, shifting again. Positioning himself, preparing. His head tilted slightly in Damian's direction, where the boy was now standing close by. It was a simple, unneeded gesture- get ready, it said.
"I'll take my chances."
There was no countdown. A series of micro explosions rattled the section of tunnel, and everything happened in quick succession. Jason tugged on the line; Pennyworth jerked back into the hole with a screech. Jason went next, but not before locking his hand with Damian's. It was going to be a bumpy ride.
It went smoothly, for about two feet. And then, a vice-like grip clamped around Damian's left ankle and he was jerked to a halt. Damian felt Jason's fingers dig in like talons, but with force on both sides there was considerable strain. Damian could distinctly hear Jason yelling, but it was drowned out by a deep rumbling and the sound of brick slamming brick. The chute was caving in around him. The pressure on his ankle increased; there was a pull, and Damian's hand slipped his glove. He last saw Jason reaching for the clip on his belt, perhaps to release the harness, when the ceiling caved in. Bricks and dirt cut them off from each other, and a stone to the back of the head cut Damian off from consciousness.
His vision spotted black, and he was sliding backwards.
This whole getting-knocked-unconscious thing was getting to be annoying. Damian's eyes slit open before closing again; the room was dark.
He was not alone. His motor skills and strength may have waned thanks to the Lazarus Pit, but his mind was still sharp. He sensed movement as it approached, and lashed out grab a hand just before it could lay upon his chest.
"You should know that startling me while I sleep leads to broken bones," Damian warned.
"Well. By all means I must thank you for not snapping my wrist like a twig, Master Robin." Alfred's voice was soft and unmistakable. Hearing it so close now, he didn't know how he could ever have mistaken the Imposter's to be this man's. Damian's eyes snapped open to find Alfred leaning away, turning up a small LED lamp.
"You're alive," Damian said, beginning to sit up. Alfred looked back at him, the ghost of a smile under his gray mustache. The pale white light made him look gaunt, but largely unharmed.
"I have been saying the same of you since you arrived," he said, and abruptly leaned down and unabashedly wrapped his arms around the young bird. He held him close in a tight hug, and Damian suppressed a wince as bruised ribs twinged.
"Yes, I have been for some time. You, we were not certain about," Damian said, when the hug relented. He could see the man's eyes were glassy, and the butler didn't bother to turn away to wipe them.
"Master Richard has kept his eyes on me," Alfred said. Sitting up slightly, Damian cast his gaze around he meger room. He was lying on a cot. The floor was comprised of well-compacted dirt, though flat cobblestones that showed in the corners led him to believe that it didn't go very deep. The light Alfred had turned on rested on the ground. There was a lone pot sitting along the wall that made Damian's lips curl up in disgust at the knowledge of what it had to be. Other than that, there was no furniture in the ten-by-fifteen room; the ceiling rounded, with a door on the far end.
"You're a prisoner," Damian said.
"For now," Alfred agreed. "And though I am overjoyed to see you, I am sorry that it is down here."
"The masonry is better than it is in the Cave," Damian offered, and Alfred rose his weary brows in surprise.
"Humor, Master Robin? I'm shocked," He exclaimed, though he looked momentarily pleased. "The Cave is no longer, I'm afraid."
"So I heard. We're making do." Damian sat up, letting his feet side over the edge. He still had his shoes, but his belt had been stripped along with his gloves. He felt along the seams to check for his concealed lock-pick, but it was gone.
"Master Richard removed your uniform of its usual necessities," Alfred said, a tone in his voice that Damian could not quite place. "For our own safety."
Damian looked at him. Alfred seemed reserved, but as he normally did. All of their faces, though; Jason's, Barbara's, and now Alfred's- wore that same expression.
"...Is he still ours, Pennyworth?" Damian asked, his voice quiet and dampened by he room.
"He is, young Master. Through and through. Do not doubt that." Alfred had put his hand on Damian's shoulder. He let his gaze wander away, finding it once again on that pot tucked into the corner. It was the only thing to look at. Everyone kept saying that, the same thing- but signs were beginning to point in every direction but the right one.
"We'll get out," Damian found himself saying. "Reguardless. Red Hood has your doppelganger," he said.
"Ah. So that's why our lovely host was in such a welcoming mood when he deposited you here. I was curious," Alfred mused. The hand remained on his shoulder, and after a little while Damian leaned into it. Alfred moved his arm to encompass the boy's small shoulders, and Damian was comforted by the warmth he man provided.
"Do not doubt him, Damian," Alfred repeated, his voice soft in his ear.
Why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?
A/N: As usual, thanks everyone for your reviews/follows. I decided not to bring in Dick's POV at this time, since it's largely Damian's story and I don't want you to know things he doesn't right now. ;) We will get to see a lot of him in the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed.