AN: Late, Again. Had a little trouble deciding where to stop this one. Part two will be up on Sunday. :D
I was at a loss, drowning in a sea of people as we crowded at the crosswalk. It had almost been a year since Mom and I walked these streets, stomping on snow flakes and clouding the air with our breath. From the moment I learned that I would be stepping out of Wayne Manor, I was giddy, but now, feeling the shadows of adults pressing in on me as we waited for the traffic to slow, any flutter I felt that morning had died. I'd never been here without Mom. I had never crossed these streets without her hand. The slower the slew of cars became, the more my palms seemed to sweat. Ahead of me, I could hear Dad chatting on despite the clamor of sighing breaks and blaring horns. I tugged on the hem of his coat, earning an over the shoulder glare. "Not now." He hissed, returning to his call without so much as a second glance.
"I just-"
The light chirped into the air, forcing the crowd to herd us forward. I had tried so hard to keep up with my father's long strides, but in a blink he was gone, swallowed by the masses. I remember reaching out and finding nothing but air until black leather glove rescued my flailing fingers. "I've got'cha." Dick could have endeared me to him with lesser words. Hand in hand we moved across the street, hopping over the white lines oblivious to the sullen stares of the gargoyles above our heads.
We were met at the curb with a scowl and the rhythm of a tapping foot. "She just wanted to hold your hand." The tapping stopped. No two people could fail to speak like my father and a five year old child. To many holding a kid's hand when they crossed the street was normal. To my father, the concept was completely foreign. So foreign he needed a translator.
"Why didn't you…"
I couldn't stop my glare; it was enough to make my father's lips form into a perfect 'O'.
"Boss, why don't you finish your errand, I'll take the squirt."
That brought my father's gaze from the looming gray clouds; the words seemed to make his body collapse with relief as if he'd been liberated from one of the most awkward situations in his life. And yet all the man could do was nod. His eyes swept over me and for the briefest of moments I was sure his twitching lips would open, but then he turned away, disappearing down the snow banked streets.
"You don't mind, do you?"
"No…" I whispered, watching my father grow smaller and smaller. "He doesn't really like me all that much, does he?"
I felt the weight of Dick's hand on my head as he ruffled my hair. "Oh, the troglodyte likes you." He assured, steering me in the opposite direction. "He's just…he's not good at showing his emotions." I stared at Dick's outstretched hand, watching the flurries skid across his glove. "So! Shall we see the jolly old fat man?" As his fingers curled around mine, I could feel my lips mimicking his wide smile. I guess the translator worked both ways.
"MAMA!" I could still feel her name ripping from my mouth, even when awareness had begun to work its way back to me. My chest ached, heavy with the pressure of the unshed sobs and yet through the hot blur of my tears, I could make out the shape of someone's crouching form.
"It's alright, Kiddo. It's just a dream."
"B-but she was right there!" I protested, trying to hold the shuddering sobs, and yet as Dick's fingers pushed the sweat soaked hair from my face they burst from me anyway. Dick's shadow seemed to block out the moonlight when he rose to his feet. I'm not sure what I expected. But I wasn't expecting him to scoop me from my twisted sheets. It was if he knew - he knew I needed someone to cling to. If he had any objections to me pressing my sticky cheek into his neck while I wept, he didn't say so. "I know…I know." His voice whispered. "Trust me, I know."
By the time the light from the hall spilled into the corner of my room, I was reduced to hiccups. "Master Dick?"
"Don't worry about it, Al, I've got it." Dick murmured. "It's just another nightmare."
"All that for a stupid nightmare? You would have thought someone was killing her." At the sound of Jason's voice I realized that I had managed to wake the entire house once again.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"
"You're not the only one in this house who has dead parents you know. Hell, at least one of yours is still alive. Suck it up."
"She's four. Stop being such an ass."
"As if you've never had a nightmare or two, Master Jason." Alfred muttered his raspy voice wandering down the hall, leaving us in the dark.
"One…two…"
"Three…four…" I murmured, hardly recognizing the small voice that left me. But I knew the moment we reached ten and took a deep breath, Dick would give me one more bear hug and set me to my feet. He didn't have to pull his exhausted body out of bed for the howling of a child he barley knew. He didn't have to hold me until the tremors of my hiccups disappeared. Thank God he did.
"I'll grab some sheets, you change." He murmured, ruffling my hair before slipping into the darkness of the hall.
"Nightmare?"
At the sound of Bruce's voice my searching fingers paused. He had heard me too? Fighting back the waves of dread, I snatched a set of pajamas from the jaws of my dresser.
"Yeah. I've got it." A pause. "A word or two from dear ol' Dad wouldn't hurt."
I couldn't hear Bruce over the skimming of Dick's bare feet as they drew closer to my door. I had no choice but to retreat to the bathroom. Maybe a small part of me didn't want to know what the man had to say.
In the faint lamp light, the dark circles under Dick's eyes looked like bruises, and yet here he was, tussling with a fitted sheet. I immediately grabbed a corner and stuffed the folds under the mattress aware that his broad chest seemed to concave.
"What Jason said…is it true?" I whispered, working my way to the next corner, but Dick had gone utterly still. Remembering he still had a corner of the sheet fisted in his fingers he worked it over the mattress. He didn't even look up at me as he bent down to retrieve the next sheet. It seemed to billow over the bed like a parachute, and all I could do was reach for the ends when it landed.
"Yeah…my parents died when I was younger." He finally answered, snapping up a pillow case.
"How-how did they die?"
Dick stared down at the pillow he had stuffed. "We were the flying Graysons. Acrobats in Haley's Circus."
"That explains a lot." I said, winning a wisp of a smile. But the smile didn't live for very long.
"Their high wire was cut." He said, tossing the pillow on the bed. "They never used nets." He didn't have to fill in the blanks. I'd seen the same sallow look on my own face. The look of someone who saw something they could never un-see. Not even when they slept. With the summoning pat of his hand I crawled myself back into bed, aware that Dick was still rushing to get his thoughts back together.
"You miss them?"
"Every day." He whispered, his weight settling on the edge of the bed as he leaned in to tuck the sheets around me. "Okay, snug as a bug?"
But I couldn't get my mouth to work. I just stared at him, watching the light flicker on his face. "What? Was it something I said?"
"Mama used to say that." I whispered, watching that sorrowful smile crease his face.
"Mine did too. Now are you snug or not?"
"As a bug in a rug." Pressing my fingers to my lips I touched his scruffy cheek. "Do they ever stop?" I asked, as Dick's tall from seemed to unfold before my eyes. But the young man just shook his head.
"I wish-I wish I could tell you that you'll stop thinking about it. Or that you won't dream about it ever again…but I can't. After a while it just gets numb."
"I wish I was numb now." I grumbled, blinking to adjust my eyes to shadows when he turned out the lamp.
"That, Kiddo, is going to take time." He murmured, leaving a kiss on my cheek. Not even Alfred did that. "At least…at least you're not alone." He added, as he shuffled for the door.
"Dick?"
I could still see his shadow leaning on the door as if it were holding his lanky body upright. "Hmm?"
"You're not alone either…not anymore."
At this time of year, Gotham could almost pass as normal. When the oversized decorations came out so did a side of Gotham that has to been seen to be believed. Somehow in this bitter cold, there was warmth in the air, rivaling the smell of cinnamon and sugar. I always found it strange how a few glittering lights and giant baubles could put smiles on people's faces. A little bit of plastic and a few bars of jingle bells and everyone seemed to be nicer to each other. Of course not all of it would be entirely genuine, but we take what we can get around here.
"Why can't it be this way all the time?" I asked, craning my neck to peer up at the behemoth of a fir tree that stood in the center of the square. But my eyes quickly slid away from the shimmer of the massive decorations to the gleaming giant that was Wayne Tower.
I could still hear Dick prattling on about Christmas music and the apocalypse, but when he realized that my eyes had wandered his words slurred to a halt. "Maybe not exactly this way…" Dick amended, giving me a gentle pull, forcing me to drag my eyes from the building. But the second we got a glimpse of the line for Santa, we both stopped.
"Yeah…uh, how about…no?"
The man beside me seemed to sag with relief. "You're officially the best kid ever."
Any thought to giggle or laugh was quickly dismissed at the feel of hand on my shoulder. "Excuse me? I whirled on my heel, Dick's grip keeping me from falling over my own feet when I found a man crouched behind me, my scarf dangling in his hand.
"You dropped this." He said, his lips twisting into something that I could only guess to be a smile, but it never seemed to reach his narrow blue eyes. I couldn't tell if his long blonde ponytail was wet from the snow or just greasy. It took everything I had not to snatch the scarf from his blunt fingers.
"D, what do you say?" Dick's fingers felt tight around my hand, as if he were making sure to hold me in place.
"Thank you, Sir."
But before I could retrieve the scarf, the man reached up and wrapped it around my neck. "You're very welcome, Pretty One." He said softly, his boots scuffing as he pulled himself upright. "Cute kid you've got, but you look kinda young to be a dad."
Dick's smile was a tight. "I get that a lot." He answered, letting his arm wrap around my shoulder. I knew better than to utter a word. "Thanks again."
But the man just nodded. "No problem. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."
I could feel the dread worming its way through my body as we watched the man slip into the crowd. Dick quickly whipped me around, sitting back on his haunches as if he were fixing my coat. "Del, if you see that man again while we're here and I'm not right next to you, I want you to go inside the tower." He said gently, his nimble fingers stuffing the lopsided scarf into my coat. "You know where the stairs are, right?"
My stomach felt like it was doing flips. "Y-yeah."
"I want you to go all the way to the top floor. The penthouse is unlocked. So you'll go inside and you'll lock the door behind you. You understand?"
Only when I nodded did he give my arm a reassuring shake. "It's just in case okay?"
"You know him don't you? He's not good is he?"
"No, no he's not." Dick whispered, his fingers plucking a small brown feather from my scarf.
By the time the lights lit up the square the sky had flushed into a brilliant shade of orange. I could feel my blades digging into the ice as I, like so many stopped to watch the tree as it slowly worked itself into a full on glow. Even Dick paused beside me, the small wisps of snow blowing against us, making our ears and nose as red as red as a hat on a drunken Santa.
"So, what do you want for Christmas?"
"Nothing…"
I could see his gawking reflection in the ice. His hand certainly felt like ice on my forehead. "Well, you're not hot. So you're not sick…"
"Nothing. Nevermind. It's stupid." I said, whirling away from him, but you know how fast those people with long legs can be. He just circled around me.
"Stupid? I like stupid. C'mon let's hear it."
I grabbed the wall to stop myself from sliding. "I want a real Christmas dinner."
"Look, I know Alfred's not the best cook in the world-"
"That's not what I mean!" I snipped. "Last year it was just me and Alfred." Leaning on the low wall, I could feel the cold bleeding through my coat. Dick was just staring at me. But then his shoulders seemed roll. "I know Dad might have to work…" I mumbled when he filled the space beside me. "Told you it was stupid."
I went to push off, when my brother grabbed me by my sleeve. "Hold it." He commanded, reeling me back in as if I were a fish. "It's not stupid." He said, bumping me in the shoulder. "Chances of the four of us having a dinner together are slim."
"See!" The second his glove went over my mouth, I felt my hands perch to my hips.
"But breakfast might have better odds." He added, letting his glove slide from my lips when I felt my muscles go slack. "You'll have to learn to compromise."
"As long as it's not waffles."
I love the sound of Dick's laugh, it's the kind of sound that builds slowly, but you know it's coming. And by the time he has his head tilted titled and those laugh lines creased at his eyes, you're laughing too. It took us a second to gain our composure, sure we had total strangers staring at us, but they've never had Alfred's waffles.
"You about ready? Your nose is about to fall off."
"Awe, can't I do a couple more laps? Please?" In truth I knew the night was coming, the sooner I quit, the sooner Dick would have to go out on patrol. The moment that happened, I would go back to my prison.
He stopped knocking the ice of his blades. "I tell you what, I'm going to take these off, grab some nuts and we'll people watch until they're gone. That gives you enough time for three laps."
"Okay."
"You don't what?"
"Leave this rink."
" Atta' Girl." With his praise I shoved myself away from the wall and back into the flow of skating traffic, aware that the lights were slowly growing brighter around me. Looping around I could see Dick watching me as he wandered for the nearest vendor, his lips pursed as if he were whistling the same song that that hung over the hum of the city.
Sliding to the opening, I rolled my knotted boots off my shoulder, holding them up for Dick to see. With a nod and a point to the bench I waddled my way through the thin layer of snow on my blades. With half numb fingers working on the knots on my laces, I kept an ear to the air, listening to the music echo through the square.
"O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum, wie true sind deine Blätter." With a glance I could see Dick's broad back as he dug into his pocket, his face beaming as he flirted with the lady vendor. God, of all the things for him to pick up from my father. Shaking my head I started jamming my feet into my icy boots, listening to the sound of his shoes as they scuffed through the snow. I could feel my lips twisting, ready to tease him for his unabashed trifling, but when I lifted my head, I didn't see Dick. I saw him.
"Oh, Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree, your branches green delight us. Your Mommy teach you that?"
"M-my Dad's coming back." I told him, so sure that Dick would turn and see him there, but then again, I couldn't see Dick over this man.
His teeth gleamed in the soft glow of the lights, but he seemed to be smiling more at the ground than me. "We both know that's not your dad." He said, shaking his head. Oh, no.
"You don't want to meet my dad." I said evenly, feeling my fingers dig into the snow that had layered on the bench.
He sniffed, like he was choking on a laugh. "Who? The rich man? Oh, come on, Pretty One. He doesn't scare me in the slightest."
"He'd kick your butt into the middle of next year. He's mean." I said, lifting my chin. I had to get away. "And so am I." The snow in my fisted hand hit him in the face with a splat. I scrambled over the bench, just as he shook of the remnants of my attack. The sound of my untied laces dragging on the ground chased me into the crowd. I dodged and ducked under rosy cheeked shoppers with their last minute boxes and bags. "Sorry! Excuse me!"
In the chaos of the shouts and the jingle of bells I could hear Dick yelling my name, but I couldn't call back, my lungs wouldn't let me, not when I could hear the man behind me. I swooped under a suit's arm as he slipped out of the glass doors of Wayne Tower, missing his look of bewilderment as I darted through the emptying lobby for the stairwell. "Sorry Sir!"
"Hey kid! What the hell are you doing?!" Great. Now security was on me? Lovely. But just as I slid into the stairwell, only through the sliver of glass in the door did I see the man get caught by security. "Sir! Sir! I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Don't stay here. As soon as the thought entered my head, I turned and started up the dimly lit stairs, well aware of the voices that were carrying through the lobby. Dad was just going to love this. By the first flight my lungs were ready to burst, but when the stairwell door smacked open, I had no choice but to duck through the second floor door.
I knew this floor. I'd come here nearly every day of my life up until the last year. I bolted down the hall, dodging through parents and their wrapped up kids as they bottlenecked at the elevator doors all trying to make it home for Christmas Eve.
"Isn't that Paige's girl?" I heard, as I weaved my way down the hall trying to remind myself to slow down, not to look panicked. "Delilah?" Don't look back. Don't look back. Just make it to the other elevators.
Like I expected, the second elevator bay was practically empty, I ran for one, jamming on the up button until one popped open. "Delilah, wait!" The sound of his voice all but propelled me into elevator. "Please! Please! Please! C'mon, come on!" I cried, mashing on the button.
The doors closed just as he came into a view, but before he could pry the door open, the elevator already began to lift up the shaft. The slow pull was enough to let me crumble to the floor in a gasping mess.
When the elevator opened to the top floor, I crawled out on my hands and knees, aware that my boots were still loose on my feet, as I slowly pulled myself off the ground. There was a moment I was sure the door was still locked, but when the big heavy door to the penthouse finally gave way I all but collapsed inside as I fumbled to lock the door.
It was the first time I had ever been inside the penthouse; however my own curiosity took a backseat as I slid all the way to the floor, pressing my cheek to the cold hard ground. I just laid there, watching the lights below flicker from red to green and back again. Just over the sound of my own ragged breathing I could still hear the music blaring into the darkness. We wish you a Merry Christmas, We wish you a Merry Christmas, We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year! Maybe Dick was right. Maybe Christmas music could be the harbinger of the apocalypse.
It's just a new suit, it changes nothing. You know what you're doing. The girl's feet hit the ground without a sound. Ignoring the briny stench of the bay, she pulled herself from the crouch, just as three more shadows joined her in the underbelly of the shipyards. Somewhere in these winding veins was an eight year old kid. A Max.
"They've made the drop, and cut the power. Croc is engaged, but I doubt you'll have a very big window."
"We'll have to make it work." Del only glanced at Dick, feeling her breath rushing out of her. Dark confined spaces. The dark was one thing, but the tight corridors? Just the thought was enough to make the tips of her fingers tingle.
"O, what can you tell us about the hostage?" The voice on the other end was silent, as if the girl's voice alone had caught Barbra Gordon off guard.
"The hostage is eight year old, Edward Killinger Jr, the Killinger's just put up the money for a five million dollar ransom."
Strange. Five million seemed like pennies, especially when the child Croc was holding came from the same family that ran the Killinger's Department Store. The chain nearly put all other big names in the area out of business.
Del worked herself into the darkness, letting her eyes adjust to the world in infrared view, as they slipped further into an underworld of the pipes and passageways. "Take a deep breath." With the stench of seawater and sewage floating in the air a part of her didn't want to, but at Dick's words, her lungs filled themselves greedily. "It won't stay this narrow for long." He murmured, hand heavy on her shoulder.
As promised the narrow scaffolding gave way to a larger opening, forcing them to break up in teams when the passage split apart. She and Tim hadn't made it very far when she spotted the light of a cigarette off in the distance. The metal floor dug into her knees as she squatted, yanking Tim with her. Del had never seen these two before, but he certainly had.
"Tommy Harper. I.R.A gun runner. He's got a metal plate in his head, hit him with something magnetic, and vertigo will take care of the rest. I suggest the left temple."
"So much for trusting us." Del hissed, ignoring, Tim's slack face as her father's voice faded from their ears. As if he'd be above hijacking communication links. Hah.
"I trust you to do exactly as I say."
"And the other guy?"
"Spider Hancock, Gotham muscle, he's got a couple broken ribs - they're still fresh."
"How could you possibly know that?!"
"I'm Batman."
Yes, yes he was.
"Red Bird, you got anything magnetic?" Even in the dark she could see Tim's witty smile.
"No. I just carry magnets for fun."
This is real. This is happening. But her mind barely had time to acknowledge the thought when they sprang from the darkness. Tim had his mark lying on the floor and yet Del was still ducking under Spider Hancock's fists, falling back with every swing he took. Let him think he's in control.
"Stop hesitating!"
Feeling a round valve pressing into her leg, the girl knew she was right where she wanted be.
"Damn it Girl!"
"I know what I'm doing!" Del hissed through her teeth, feeling Spider's fist meet her block as she leapt back on the large water valve. The second she dropped, he fell forward, slamming his fist into the wall behind her, showering her with bits of plaster and concrete as the wall cracked under the pressure.
With a twist of her wrist the girl loosened the valve, knocking the man back with the force of the water that spewed out. "So let me get back to it!" Pushing up from her grip on the valve she flipped forward, leaping at the man. For a second she was sure she could feel his ribs give way under her feet. Spider slid down the opposing wall in a soaked groaning heap as the girl landed hard on her feet. There was nothing in her ear but silence.
If there were two people here, it left her to wonder just what exactly Batman and Robin might find. "What is it?" What? Was the man reading her mind now?
"Something's not right." The words had Tim slowing on the stairs beside her. "Let's just assume for a second that Batman and Robin find the same kind of people. How much would it cost to hire just four people with that kind of skill set?" Finding light at the bottom of the stairs the girl had to force herself not to rush for it. Just beyond them…was Edward.
"More than the ransom…"
The words speared any relief she had felt. So someone was setting this up. But who? Tim reached the glass vault first, his presence making the blonde hair boy peer up at them over the round rims of his glasses. "It's sealed!" he cried, scrambling to his knobby knees.
"Nothing a little C4 can't fix. Get down, and cover your head."
"What? I didn't get any C4, what the hell?" She snipped, just a Tim shoved her into the wall. The door blew off with a bang, shooting the hot hunk of metal across the room.
"So much for doing this quietly." She heard Dick grumble as he and Damian came rushing down the second set of stairs. "Oh and we missed the fireworks. How did he get the c4?"
"You're not always this way, are you?"
Del was sure she could feel a smirk working its way onto her lips, but the moment she turned, everything went numb. "LOOK OUT!" No sooner had the words left her mouth, did Croc come spring from the darkness.
"WOAH! Down Ugly!" Swiping Robin with one arm, Batman rolled out of the way, barely missing Killer Croc's jaws when they smacked in the air. How many times had she seen his picture on the Bat-computer? How many times had she read her father's reports? And yet, as Batgirl looked up at the creature she realized that no matter how she tried, she could never have imagined this beast.
Waylon Jones, her father learned was born with a severe case of atavism. But Waylon had been thrown so far back into the gene pool, he had taken on reptilian traits, and it only regressed from there, leaving this gigantic crocodilian creature in his place.
"This doesn't concern you bats!"
Del could still feel his growl rumbling under her feet. "Take the boy!" Del cried, pulling Tim back. "Go, up through the hatches." He didn't hesitate. He didn't stop to argue or ask why; he just whipped right back around, snagged Edward killinger off the floor.
Making sure they made it through the hatch over their heads, Del turned just in time to see Batman's head snap back under the blow of the metal brief case in Croc's clawed grip.
"Hyper sonic frequencies, right?"
"Yes."
But just as the girl was dashing across the damp concrete floor, something caught her eye. Someone else was here. Something that moved just a little too much like a ninja. Reaching to the small of her back, she pulled free the small sword that was hidden beneath her cape. The league of assassins? They certainly had enough money to hire the mercenaries. But why would they even piddle with a five million dollar ransom? But Del knew the truth. Truth was- they wouldn't. It wasn't the money they wanted. But what the hell were they after?
"ROBIN!"
"Don't!"
The second Damian's head popped up, she hurled it, watching his eyes widen when he reached up to catch the weapon, but with a nod to the scaffolding, he was off. Like he knew…
"I trust him."
On the list of things she would probably never do, launching herself on the back of a crocodile would probably be listed in her top 10. The second she landed on Croc's back he knew it. He thrashed about trying to dislodge her, but the girl held tight, blood tricking down his back from her grasp. It was enough of a distraction, that when Batman landed a punch Croc's head snapped back from the force, flinging saliva into the air.
Del crawled, aware that Croc's scales were tearing beneath her. With each rip, she could feel the scream ripping out of him. Digging her hand in, the girl worked a pair of hyper sonic electrodes from her belt. Dad would give her these but no C4? What a bust! With one slapped on his head, Croc gave a violent shake. It was enough to tear the very scale she was holding from his body. The girl went flying over the dashboard and smack into the concrete below.
"I think I'll eat you first!" Del slipped back in a crab walk as the creature opened his gaping mouth, his teeth came down, just as Dick swooped in on her. The points of Croc's fangs only seemed to graze her, ripping the sleeve of her suit off entirely.
Thrown to the ground, Del tumbled to her feet, too aware that her arm was torn. Or that the ground was trembling with the sound of Croc's growls. "Batgirl!" At the sound of a scream, her eyes fled from the mangled flesh of her arm, popping up, just in time to see Batman's fist break through Croc's teeth.
"DEL!"
"Yeah?" The word left her in a whisper, too engulfed in watching Dick twist and kick, or flip over the beast to pay any attention. Only when Croc dropped to the ground screaming did she realize that her hands were empty. How had he managed to save her and grab the electrode at the same time?
"Arm. Arteries."
The teen's eyes dropped to her arm, blinking at the small red pool she'd been creating, or for that matter how much the exposed wires of her suit were burning into her. "Clear." When Dick finally resurfaced, Croc was a mangled heap of chains.
"I better not get rabies." She stated, wincing when he grabbed her arm. He gave a low whistle. "Look at you, bleeding like a stuck pig."
"Oh, right, and that's just paint running down the side of your mouth?" She asked, watching him rub it off with the back of his glove.
"Edward?"
"Topside with the red bird." It should have been a relief. "We've got another problem…League of Assassins are involved somehow. I spotted one and I sent Robin after them."
No chastising. No yelling. No "What were you thinking?!" Batman's chest just caved as if his lungs were expelling the biggest breath he'd ever taken in his life. Had he been holding it all this time? "Let's find him before he gets in over his head."
Edward Killinger was safe. A family got their little boy back. And yet, as Delilah trolled the rooftops, she felt no relief. It was all a rouse. They had put a child's life in danger just to draw them out. But why?
"You need to walk. You can't use that arm like that."
"Not until I find Damian." She huffed, but in the midst of her defiance, the bloodied thing gave out, sending the girl crashing on the rooftop below. She rolled on impact, feeling the asphalt top dig into the exposed skin. The second the world stopped rolling the girl laid there, watching the gray clouds swirl together in a sky that should have been inky black. "Shit." The unbidden hiss slipped from her lips as she peeled herself up. "Don't even say it."
"Wasn't going to."
"Yeah right."
But as the girl began collecting herself back up, something in the glare of the city lights ahead of her caught her eye, the glint of a sword perhaps?
"Wait for Batman."
But Del was already leaping for the next building, forcing herself to use her weaker arm. "There isn't enough time." She said biting back the groan that threatened to roll out of her mouth as the girl landed more on her knees than on her feet. She made a dash for the shadows, just as the voice of the clock tower began to ring out over the city.
"Dad, he's not alone, there's too many… what do I do?"
Leaning against the brick façade, Del could feel the cold all but numbing her through her suit. Take a deep breath. Calm down. At first the girl was sure he didn't hear her over the tolling of the clock. 9. 10. 11. 12. Midnight.
"Exactly what I tell you."
All Damian could taste could taste was blood. Not even the bitter cold could steal the metallic tang from his mouth. Still alive. Still alive. It was more than he could say for the bodies he had left in his wake. Even in this city's faint light, he could still make out the gleam of the dark red trails that had pooled along the rooftop. Gear or no gear, sword or no sword, he didn't come to have his face in the gravel by choice.
The boy was fighting to control his heaving chest, when his mother's boot stepped into his line of sight. Her shadow did nothing to shield him from the sleet that was spitting down on them. "Have you forsaken your own mother?" She asked, forcing his head off the ground with the tips of her digging fingers. Damian could feel bits of gravel falling from his cheek as his eyes slid from her to the sky as the bat signal threw the city into even more darkness. It was enough to make Talia Al Ghul lift her head to the sky. But even in this new darkness, he could see her lips twisting into a mocking smile.
"The Circus Oaf managed to pull it off."
The boy's eyes narrowed, so that's what this was. They were trying to take a shot at Grayson while his father was down.
"What?" his mother asked, looking from the boy to the now blank sky. "Did you honestly think he would come for you?" She let his head drop, her silky laugh rising into the air like the steam off the city streets.
Lying there, Damian peered through the legs of those around him, blinking when he saw a body slide to the ground without a sound.
"It's time to come home, Damian. Playtime is over."
The second he was pulled back to his feet, the boy shrugged off the adults who had him by the arms.
"You wanted me to learn from my father, so I am." He answered, watching her go rigid at his words. "Don't tell me you're going to complain about the results."
Without warning the child leapt, kicking away the two men he stood between. Before she could even draw her sword on him, the boy had already landed, and was springing back with a flip, reaching out for a sword that had been tossed into the air. Someone had come for him after all.
Del could feel Damian's back pressing into hers. She knew the shiver of adrenaline when she felt it, like the roll of a tide. The tremor seemed to be traveling down the boy's spine. In the faint light, she could see the sleet sticking to the tracks of blood on his face. Jesus. He was only 10. "You gonna live?" She asked, watching the circle close tighter around them.
"Tch. Longer than you." Yup. He'll be fine.
"He hasn't killed you yet? That's disappointing." Del let her attention slide to the woman, listening to the roof for any signs of a movement. "Damian, if you wish to absolve your treachery, get rid of her. We have no use for weakness in our world."
At that the girl closed her eyes, so sure she would feel her brother turn on her, but the sleet just continued to tap on her exposed arm. The sword slipped from her fingers in a clatter. It was just the blood she wanted, as if the three bodies the child had left weren't proof enough of what he could do. That's all she was going to ever want from him. It was all she was going to want for him. Throwing out a fist full of smoke bombs, the girl grabbed him by the cape, dragging him to the edge under the guise of the thick black plumes.
"TRAITOR!"
The word seemed to drown out the voice of the city, the sound was enough to make them hesitate, it gave Talia enough time to come bolting toward them through the smoke. It was just a second or two, but that's all it takes to push a ten year old child off a building.
Del didn't hesitate, she jumped, the wind howling in her ears so loud, she couldn't even hear the hiss of her own grappling gun. Fist her hand around Damian's wrist, the pair slammed into the building, dangling together by grip alone. If…if I can get to that ledge, I can pull him up.
"Whatever you do, don't let go! You understand me?! Don't let go!"
"NO! I just feel like falling to my death! Of course not you-"
The word idiot just kind of stuck in his mouth when she released herself from her harness, forcing them to fall once again, until the girl hit the ledge just a couple stories below them, leaving the boy dangling by her arm.
The second her body collided with the concrete, Del wasn't sure she could breathe. Surely something inside her had snapped, but the adrenaline was running a little too high for her to care. Below the city carried on, oblivious to the precarious situation just above the street. Forcing herself to gasp, the girl worked on pulling up the boy's dead weight, feeling her head shake as the blood hummed through her veins. Her father was yammering in her ear, and yet she couldn't think past the sound of traffic. Traffic Damian's body would fall into if she didn't get him up here.
Just as the boy had enough leverage to pull himself up, the girl slid into a heap, forcing her chest to give her lungs enough room to breathe. God, something was definitely broken. A rib or two maybe?
"You could have gotten yourself killed! What the hell is wrong with you?! Why the hell would you do a thing like that?!" He cried, toeing her with his boot when she didn't even try to make a rebuttal. If she didn't look like a total mess, he would have liked to kick the crap out of her.
She just wheezed, lifted her hand to her mouth, and dabbed the blood away. "You mean…why would I risk my life…for you?" She thought to shake her head, but the whole motion was just disorienting. "For a kid…so smart…you can be…so…dense"
When she slumped over, Damian felt his stomach drop to his feet. Did he kill her?! "Hey! Wake up, Wake up you idiot! WAKE UP! Despite his shaking, her head just rolled. Did saving his life just cost her own? Before he even had a chance to check for a pulse he was swept up from behind.
She's going to kill me. But all thoughts of Bab's anger disappeared the second the glass window of the clock tower gave beneath his feet.
"Dick what the hell?!" But as he slid across the glass littered floor, with a body in his arms, all the words that were ready to come flying out of Barbra Gordon's mouth stuck in her throat.
"What the hell was that?" Sam wasn't sure what she expected as she worked herself down the stairs, a fresh mug in her hands. Maybe Barb trashed a monitor or something? But the second the girl spotted Batman pulling himself up from the ground, shaking off the glass as if it were nothing but glitter, the girl paused. Something was hanging in his arms. Straining to look the girl fought to keep her bare feet rooted on the stairs. But as Sam Cleary realized it was a body he was holding, the mug in her hands became a pile of porcelain on the floor. "Del!"
