I need to breathe
Before I suffocate
Before it's all too late
Before I die this way

I need to breathe
Before I slip away
While there's something left to say
Can you help me?

I need to breathe

-Breathe by Through Fire

Him. The Batman.

No way in hell.

Nightwing sat on the bench, hunched over, his hand running through his hair as the strands entangled between his fingers. It was crazy, insane, preposterous. As much as he had felt he was doing a better job at times than the Dark Knight, he was certain of his of his place in the pecking order. He was not the top dog and had no desire to be that dog.

And yet, the thought wouldn't leave his mind. It was true, they needed Batman back, regardless of whether it was The Batman or A Batman. There was a scramble amongst the Dark Knight's greatest enemies for the cowl, something he nor the rest of the Network had considered attempting. Why hadn't they until now?

It was an emotional thing to be sure. He was certain of that much. Each one of them had been affected by the vigilante in some form or fashion. Barbara had been rescued by him, Tim followed his example, and perhaps the same could be said of himself. Though the Birds hadn't said why they were in the fight, he imagined they were inspired by the man in some form or fashion.

Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure what got Stephanie or Harper into this business.

"You doing okay?"

Dick didn't bother raising his head up as he continued to look down at his feet. He didn't need to bother either since he knew whose voice it was. "No, I'm not," he replied bluntly.

"You want to tell me about it?" Tim asked as he came to sit next to the older man, placing his hands on either side of himself on the bench. That was all he had to say because they both knew Dick would be spilling out eventually. While he was a more private person than the others, he did open up with the right people and Tim was one of those people.

"I can't be Batman," he said after awhile, dropping his hand from his hair. "I can't be, I just can't. It's...it's...sacrilegious."

"I know what you mean," the younger man agreed. "It's like there can only be one Batman."

"And he's gone. That's it." Dick finally looked to his friend, seeing the youth looking towards the ceiling.

"And I'm sure you've recognized Manhunter's point though," Tim pointed out. "That everyone else had been putting on that cowl. They recognize the power it holds. And I can see where she's coming from, what with using it too. It's probably because she wasn't raised here and knows just what it means to us locals."

"Maybe," he grunted his agreement. It still didn't take that sick feeling from his stomach, the same feeling he had since it was suggested he be the one to take up the mantle. Just the thought cause his stomach to churn uncomfortably.

"I gotta say though, it's better you than me," Tim admitted. "I really can't be offended because Canary's right, I don't fit the suit all that well."

"Thanks," Dick grumbled. "Are you saying I do?"

"Better than others. You were always the best fighter in the Batclan. I also know you're smarter than you give yourself credit for. You always let me and Barbara handle the thinking because, I don't know, you wanted us to feel like we were contributing."

"That's not true," he quickly interjected.

"Let me finish," Tim was quick to rebuke. "This is just what I thought at the beginning. You were the best equipped one to live this life out of all three of us. I was a snot-nosed kid trying to act more mature than I was—"

"And you still do." Dick offered a smirk at the youth, who gave him a scowl in return.

"Ass. And Barbara was doing this because she was starstruck by Batman and probably not the best suited for all the fighting we did. I know I relied on you to do the heavy lifting. Then Barbara turned out to be a computer genius so she took over that aspect of our operation. And still, you were our powerhouse. So when it comes to fighting, yeah, you have that down pat. Now that you have a whole new Batclan with you, I can imagine you're taking over more of the team's operations—the investigating, the strategy, all of it."

That was a good point. He told Harper and Stephanie where he wanted them and how to strike and they followed his orders to the letter. It wasn't until Jason had joined the group when he had to spell out his rationale.

"So believe it or not, in my eyes, you earned the consideration."

As flattering as that was, Dick knew deep down this wasn't right. There was a much larger issue at the heart of this than what was being said. "As long as we're considering a Batman replacement, then we're just going to keep making the same mistakes," he said after awhile.

This caused Tim to frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're still relying on Batman. He was just one man, albeit one hell of one to shoulder on the burden that he did for so long. He made that symbol on his chest mean something to this city. What about the rest of us? No one is afraid to see Nightwing, or Red Robin, or Huntress. They're freezing because they're expecting to see the Bat looming over their shoulder.

"Everything he did benefited us all. When the Talon Attacks happened, he had figured it out just before the assassinations happened. He stole that shipment of Crane's fear toxin out of my storage unit without us being any the wiser. He discovered Hugo Strange behind the Man-Bat attacks. We only found out about it after the fact."

"I guess you're right about that," the younger vigilante agreed hesitantly, probably unsure where his older counterpart was going.

Dick wasn't going to let him wonder for too long. "We've been riding his coattails this entire time. We haven't earned a shred of credibility with this city and now's the time to change that. We need to show Gotham, Bane, Ra's al Ghul—everyone—that we're to be taken serious. It's time for people to recognize us as Batman's heirs and hoping to see Black Canary, or Katana, or even Bluebird when they're in trouble."

Yeah, that was it. Nightwing could feel his resolve strengthening with every word he spoke. If they were to make the Network work, if they were going to save this city, they needed to show it, to prove themselves worthy. Their collective B-team and C-team levels were earned because they didn't strive to be A's.

That needed to change starting now.

"That's a nice speech and all," Red Robin was saying, pulling him out of his thoughts. "But how do you plan on doing that?"

Nightwing stood up grabbing the wrist of one of his arms with the hand of the other, pulling on the glove so that he could feel it tightening on his fingers as he began to flex them. "Barbara has to have found a hideout for Bane by now. Because we've been tiptoeing around him, she wouldn't have bother telling us. Now though, we strike. We show Bane that we're not going to be taking his hostile takeover lying down."

"You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely. Batman had to start from somewhere when he started. It's time the Network started too. We're going on the offensive."

Even with the bridges blown, the city still had electricity and telecommunications. It was the big reason why Barbara still had access to the internet and was able to continue being Oracle. It was also the reason why her phone was still able to ring, the caller ID revealing who was on the other end.

The call couldn't have come at a better time. She had just gotten off with Nightwing, who had spoken with a renewed sense of purpose. She hadn't expected that. She expected sadness, devastation, depression—take your pick—but not this urgency.

And despite that, this was one call that she wasn't about to refuse.

"Are you sure you're alright?" her father demanded. The man was between desperate and frantic, and she was able to hear the relief in his voice the second after she had confirmed that yes, she was okay, just a little shaken up. And like a good daughter, she had asked what was going on. "I need you to stay where you are, Barbara. The bridges...well, they're down. No one can get across right now. I'm going to see if I can get a ferry, or something started, and as soon as I call you, I want you on the move, alright?"

"Dad, what's going on? What happened to the bridges?" she questioned. Based on his tone, her father knew something. Whatever it was, she had yet to find it on the net with the exception of video after video being uploaded—and goddamn it people, would you stop holding the damn phone vertically?

"I need to know if you're safe, if you can keep yourself safe," her father pressed. "Do you have that gun I gave you?"

"Dad, please, tell me. Tell me what's happening. I need to know what's going on," she pleaded.

"It's...it's complicated." Oh, she also knew that tone. It was the one he used when he was trying to spare her from knowing about something bad. He was trying to protect her still, but if he was asking whether or not she had that gun he had given her for "home protection," yes, she did, but it was in the case it had come with.

"No, Dad, I need to know. I have no idea what's happening and if I'm to protect myself, I need you to tell me what you know. Where are you? Can you come pick me up?" That last one was a throwaway line because she had no intention of going anywhere just yet. The Network still needed her at her desk.

Barbara heard a sigh on the other end. After a heartbeat of silence, "You don't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, alright?"

If she thought it was bad, those words confirmed it was much worse than bad. Swallowing, she agreed, "Okay."

"We brought in the National Guard and they're the one's who…"

The National Guard blew up the bridges? Why?

"Gotham is being quarantined. They want to go after Bane, but the higher ups decided they wanted to starve him first. I didn't know anything about this until I was on the other side. Right now, it's just you and several million people who are about to lose their minds when they figure this out. That's why I need you to arm yourself and be ready. I'm going to do my best to get you out of there before it gets bad."

"I know you will," she said, trying to speak through a rapidly drying throat as everything clicked together. While the National Guard was a military outfit, it was the armed force for the state. They didn't have the authority to blow up those bridges. And if Bane was the target, and knowing about his background, there might be someone higher up, at the federal level, who authorized this. What were the odds that someone with knowledge of Project Gilgamesh was acting to start cleaning up their mess?

Still, the Network needed to know about what was going on and she would keep her speculations to herself. That way she wouldn't overly alarm anyone and once she had the proof, then they could start working on a way to fix this.

But before she started on that, she needed to say something first.

"Daddy? I love you," Barbara spoke, her voice small and betraying some of the fear she felt. This was the man who had seen her at some of her weakest moments, and it would be him that she would show it. The others didn't need to know because for them she needed to be strong. She needed to be Oracle, but not with her daddy.

"I love you too, Barbara. I'm coming for you, so stay safe."

She hoped that out of everything, she could do that at least.

As the call ended, her facial features hardened. So much information, so much happening in the last few weeks. It would take its toll on anybody. The last twenty-four hours had been especially trying. However, this is what she thrived on, these challenges that were followed by more challenges, which were then followed by even more challenges. While her father had every right to be concerned about her, she had her means to keep herself safe.

None of which involved using a gun.

Right now, she needed to get to work trying to figure out who this latest player was and keep the rest of the Network up to date. Right now, they were heading out to strike at one of Bane's many cells in the city, and they were going to need to know what to expect before they got there.

There was going to be no more deaths, no more captures, and no more losses. They were going to start turning this around.

They had no choice but to; at this rate if they didn't, there wasn't going to be a Gotham left to save.

The building was in one of the rougher neighborhoods, not that you would know it nowadays. The lack of gang activity that used to infest this area was at an all-time low and there was really only one reason for it at this time.

Four stories, brick-and-mortar, built probably a few decades ago, it had been cheap apartment units for a bustling, rapidly growing city. Now it was even cheaper apartments for a slowly dying neighborhood, prime real estate for the criminals that were slowly, but surely, killing what was left of this community. It was now a hideout for Bane's men, if not the man himself.

This was where they were going to send a message, loud and clear, for the entire city to take notice.

Nightwing stood on the street opposite, not bothering to hide in the shadows the neighboring buildings. No, they were going to do this loud and with attitude. There would be no mistaking who was attacking.

Bane would know it was them. He would target them. He would try to kill them.

He would be making a huge mistake.

There was movement behind him, Huntress appearing off his left shoulder as she gazed at the building next to him. "You're sure about this?" she asked, not bothering to tear her eyes away from the building before them. "Oracle has the right place?"

"She has the right place alright," Red Robin spoke confidently as he came to stand on Nightwing's right, his hands on his hips. "She has computer algorithms that triangulated this place out of—"

Huntress immediately held a hand up and spoke to cut him off. "I get it, short stuff. Don't throw your computer lingo at me."

"Is it too much for you to handle, H?" Black Canary asked, somewhere behind the two older vigilantes. If Nightwing were to look, he'd see the rest of the Network along with Green Arrow standing behind him, waiting for the order. Black Canary had Arrow standing next to her as they stood behind Nightwing and Huntress. Katana and Manhunter were out to Huntress' left and behind her, hands lingering close to their preferred weapons. Bluebird and Spoiler were keeping behind Red Robin, though one hovered between the two male vigilantes while the other stood out next to the younger one. They were hungry and ready.

"Only because I have a brain, unlike the wind tunnel you keep under those blond curls of yours," the purple-clad woman retorted.

"Wow, a blonde joke. Very creative."

Huntress shot a glare over her shoulder at Canary, who only returned a smirk in return. "Just keep your trap shut, Blondie, before I tell your boy toy to. I'm sure he'll be happy to do so."

"Hey, don't involve me with this," Arrow responded.

"Game face time, guys," Nightwing said, a gentle reminder to get them back onto their objective. "I want everyone inside now. Do what you have to do short of killing them. I won't blame you for breaking some bones; I certainly know I won't be holding back. The important thing is that we all make it alive."

And with that, he began their march, storming across the street and climbing up the small marble staircase up to the front door. He could hear the constant clatter of footsteps behind him as the others followed. Not bothering to be civilized about it, he put all his weight on one leg as he lifted the other and delivered a kick to the doors, forcing them open.

What he found on the other side stunned him. There was a short hallway on the other side of the doorway and lying on the floor were two, no, three of Bane's men. There was a lack of blood and if he looked closely, there chests were rising, indicating there were clearly unconscious.

What the hell was going on?

Suddenly, there was a crash, dull due to distance, but there was also the distinct sound of someone screaming.

Angel pressed his back hard against the wall, holding his gun up by his face. Next to him was Raul, breathing hard as he unloaded an empty clip and put in a full one.

There was something in here, something fast. It had been here for God knows how long and it was picking them apart. They were separated from the others right now, looking to regroup, but finding little to none that were actually of use.

Bane would be furious by this breech once he found out about it. No question, if they did not capture, or kill whatever was attacking them, they were all as good as dead.

"Where do you think it is?" Raul whispered lowly.

Angel was about to answer as he turned his head to look at his compatriot. Like him, Raul had his back pressed against the wall so as to minimum where they could be attacked from. However, as soon as the words had left Raul's lips, something burst through the wall right by his head, something long and black. It then clamped down on Raul's head, looking very much like a hand, its fingers practically claws.

Raul screamed as he was pulled backwards, the wall breaking apart as he was forced into it, vanishing from sight as pieces of sheetrock and wood fell to the floor.

Fear raced throughout Angel's body. However, he was not a coward. Shooting away from the wall, he spun on his heels as he turned to face the newly-made hole, putting himself right in front of it. Yelling, he unloaded his machine gun as he fired it into the hole, the flashes of light from the gunfire lighting up the corridor and the room before him.

Seconds passed by until his gun refused to fire anymore. Breathing hard, Angel stared into the void in front of him, hoping...no, he knew he had got whatever was hunting him. Nothing could have—

Suddenly, the floor beneath his feet burst apart, shattering into pieces. Angel screamed as he fell into the darkness below, knowing only pain when he landed and soon after darkness.

Creeping slowly through the hall, Nightwing held his escrima sticks at the ready. The others had their weapon of choice drawn and were following behind him. Katana and Manhunter were covering their six while Bluebird and Spoiler were kept right in the middle of their group. The rest of the Network surrounded the youngest and inexperienced members as they searched all around them.

The first thing to be noticed was the lack of lighting. A lot of the light fixtures were either not working, or broken, leaving a scant few left to actually light up the place. It had all the look of a horror house.

The doors on either side of the corridor were open, though the few that were closed were deliberately opened by them. Many were found to be empty of people, and sometimes empty of everything. Every so often their would be a random piece of furniture, be it a stool, chair, even a television set lying on its side. However, they found a few more of Bane's men lying unconscious on the floor.

Up ahead, even as Nightwing stepped over one such sleeping merc, he saw another one lying in the doorway, his upper body out in the hall while his legs were in the room. Slowly, he crept towards the man, walking passed him once he was sure he was down for the count.

No one had said a thing since they entered. Everyone was on high alert, so there was no need for unnecessary conversation. They were here for a reason, though now it was a completely different one.

Suddenly, there was a sound of gunfire coupled with screaming. Up ahead!

Jimenez and Victor crept down the hallway. Their guns were trained in front of them, their eyes searching the corridor before them.

They had been hearing the screams, the crashes, and the gunfire. There was no telling how long it had been going on. They were professionals, so such sounds did not frighten them. It did put them on high alert however, and they were going to get to the source of the commotion.

So far, they had yet to find anything. That was the unnerving part. They searched and searched and searched and there was nothing.

Yet the sounds indicated otherwise.

Something pelted Jimenez's shoulder, causing him to stop. Looking to it, he saw nothing, perhaps some dust, but nothing else. Strange. Looking to Victor, he saw a similar bewildered look. Returning his attention back to his front, that's when he noticed something on the floor.

Kneeling down, he reached down and picked up what looked like a crumb. Holding it between his index finger and thumb, he examined it. It was white and was perhaps the size of a small pebble. It's sides were rough and pointy, but nothing that actually indicated what it was.

Again, strange.

As he moved to dropped the white pebble on the floor, he saw another one land perhaps a few centimeters next to his hand. Frowning, he stared at it before he realized what he had seen. Whatever this white substance was, it had fallen onto the floor. Fallen.

That's when he heard a cracking sound. Shooting up onto his feet, he looked up to the ceiling and saw a large crack in the sheetrock. Something thin and swirling was emerging from the crack, writhing along the ceiling like a den of snakes. All Jimenez could do was stare at it.

It took him a moment before he realized those writhing snakes looked like wires and cables. A moment after that realization and suddenly the wires and cables stopped their writhing, ends of the wires pointing down towards him and Victor.

Then, without a word, the cables came flying at the two men. Jimenez screamed as even as he raised his gun to fire, only to feel their cold embrace.

Nightwing froze when he saw it. There was a pile of debris on the floor, one of Bane's men lying on top of it. Above him was a hole in the ceiling, obviously where the debris came from. Quickly, he approached the man and knelt next to him, pressing a couple fingers against his neck to find the carotid artery.

Feeling it beating strongly and steadily beneath his gloved fingers, Nightwing then stood up and regarded the mess. What the hell was going on here? These men were being hunted down and beaten. Throughout the corridors, he had seen the bullet holes in the walls and the shell casing on the floor, indicating the mercs were fighting back. But without any sign of blood, or bodies, it was like they were hitting nothing at all.

Already, Nightwing doubted it was the Demon's Fang. Those guys were all about killing, so unconscious men were not their M.O. The same for the Phantasm and the Joker.

So what did this mean? Was there a new vigilante? Were they the ones responsible for this?

"I don't like this," Huntress said then, her voice low, but one that could be hardly mistaken for a whisper. "I don't like this at all."

"Not to be a wet blanket, but this is looking a lot like a horror movie," Green Arrow added. "And this is usually the part where you're shouting at the screen for the dumb teenagers to turn around and get out."

"That's not necessarily a bad idea," Red Robin agreed.

Nightwing just continued to stare in front of him. The end of the hallway was in sight and from his angle, he thought he could see the start of a staircase at the end. "One more floor won't hurt," he said as he began pushing forward.

"Famous last words," Green Arrow muttered.

Oscar shoved a new magazine into his gun, pulling back on the bolt to load the bullet chamber. Next to him, Jose did the same.

"Alright, you little vermin, we've got something for ya," Oscar growled as he searched the room he was in. His unit was using the generously sized room as a sitting room, with couches and chairs lining the walls. There had been a coffee table, but it was in a hundred pieces due to Carlos lying dead, or unconscious on it.

Suddenly, something black darted in front of him, keeping low to the ground. Shouting, Oscar began firing his gun at it, even as it continued gliding across the floor, always staying ahead of the bullets.

Suddenly, pain shot up Oscar's hand, causing him to yelp as he dropped his machine gun. Grabbing at his hand, he instinctively bent over as he massaged it. That was when, he felt something hit him on his back, right between his shoulder blades. There was a scream...Jose!

Jerking his head to a side, Jose was lying on the floor, lying there awkwardly. However, there was no sign of the black thing. Oscar jerked his head from side to side, searching for it.

Suddenly, his legs were knocked out from underneath him, and he gave out a cry of surprise. As he fell, something clamped onto his face and he felt himself be forced down faster through the air until the back of his head hit the floor. Pain exploded throughout his skull and merciful darkness took him shortly.

Now this was freaky.

Nightwing stared up at the ceiling. There was a mess of wires and cords covering it, along with what looked like bulging bundles. Faintly, he could make out the face of a man, wires covering his mouth and some crossing over his face and nose, leaving only a portion of his forehead and left eye visible. The eye was darting from side to side, a muffled sound being made as there were visible wiggling motions.

In fact, there were two men hanging from the ceiling. An occasional arm and leg hung downwards with partial visuals of the terrified men's faces.

For once, Nightwing was stumped. The unconscious men, the damage to the building, he could explain all of that. But two men hanging in a nest of wires? Nope, he had nothing.

"Okay, Nightwing, I think it's time to leave," Red Robin said, not even bothering to keep his voice low. "We've found something that's above our heads."

"I…" the older vigilante began as he lowered his head to look at his friend. It was because of this he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Jerking his head up—there! At the end of the hall, there was movement, something disappearing around a corner.

Immediately, Nightwing took off running down the hallway, much to Red Robin's surprise, not to mention someone calling out, "Hey!" behind him. He ignored it as he reached the corner and spun around it.

There was nothing. Nothing he could find with his eyes. Before he could even feeling the beginning stages of disappointment, he heard a sound. It was very much like the squealing protests of unoiled hinges. In an instant, he was storming down the corridor, searching for the sound until he found it.

As he suspected, it was a door. In this case, it was slowly opening, though there was no sign of who had opened it. Beyond the doorway, there was a set of wooden stairs.

There was another sound then, one of creaking floorboards. Nightwing shot up the stairs, racing up them. He ignored the pounding footsteps of the other vigilantes as they followed, he just kept climbing up and up. He climbed the stairs two at a time, putting a hand to the railing once he reached a landing so that he could steady himself as he spun around to face the next set of stairs and leap up them.

Soon, he reached the top and a lone door indicating there was only one way out left. Lowering his shoulder, he ran right into the door, ramming his shoulder into it. The door gave out immediately, swinging out as the cool night air rushed over him. Racing out onto the rooftop, Nightwing soon skidded to a stop, eyes widening as he swore his heart stopped.

He felt numb. It was so consuming that he barely recognized the rest of the Network barreling through the open roof access, only to do as he had done and come to a stop as well.

There were a series of air condition units off to the left and ahead of the Network vigilantes. On the closest one to them was the crouching form of Batgirl, her head turned towards them as she stared with those blank, black eyes. Her cape poured over her body and off the a/c unit, an inky blackness that stood out even in the night's natural darkness. A breeze blew by them, causing the cape to lift up and dance in the air.

Nightwing's eyes then darted away. Further down the roof and to the right was another person, one in a dress shirt, jacket, and fishnet stockings. A top hat perched atop a head of black hair, which waved whimsically in the same breeze. The woman's weight was placed on one leg as the other was bent at the knee, hands pressed against hips to complete the pose. It took a moment for Nightwing to recognize her, but remember her he did. It was the magician woman from so long ago, Zatanna.

And yet, neither the magician or Batgirl command the amount attention as the figure that stood in the middle. Further back, on top of the ledge of the building was a larger figure, cape billowing softly to his right. Familiar horns stood up from his head as he seemed to regard the sight of the city.

Nightwing could feel his throat close up, keeping him from speaking. Sensing them, the man tilted his head to his left, seeming to look at them from over his shoulder. He stood that way for a moment before he turned to fully face them, managing to stay on top of the ledge without so much as stumbling.

The sight of Batman hit Nightwing with so many emotions, he had no idea how to feel. Joy exploded within him at the sight of the Bat Symbol on his chest. Dread was in his stomach at just the thought of what had been discussed about his heir-apparent early this night. Relief that he was there, standing, was at war with the other feelings and dominating. Doubt was creeping in that this was another fake, another imposter, though. There were more, so much more, but right now he couldn't come up with anymore words to describe them.

"You've all done well," Batman spoke then, his gruff, graveling voice confirming that this was indeed the real deal, the original. "It can't have been easy all of these months. I can't imagine all the sacrifices you've had to make. You've done a commendable job while I've been gone and for that I thank you.

"But now, everything changes. Starting now, we're taking back our city."

End Part II

Well, some of you readers called it. Batman is back, but with a truckload of obstacles to face, not only him, but the Network as well. Part III is already being written, entitled War of the Seven Clans, and Anonymous Void and I intend on getting that out to y'all sometime next year.

AV and I would also like to thank everyone that has read, reviewed, and enjoyed this story. It was interesting writing many different POVs without one of them being Batman. I must say I did miss him, however. It was tough juggling the different POVs between the primary characters while making sure the secondary characters also have some screen time. It was a lot like The Ninth Circle in that way.

And this story has reached some milestones as well. Clash of a Hundred Demons is now the longest story by words and chapters of AV and my series, along with the most reviewed of the Batman stories. The latter is all thanks to you readers and reviewers, so thank you again.

AV and I would like to wish everyone Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all.

Until next time,

ShadowMajin