Nothing in this life had prepared her for this. Not for this kind of aching fear. It was the kind of fear that bruised her unbreathing lungs when the crowd swallowed her whole. It was the kind of terror that ripped out of her in protest when those strange hands tore at her, rendering her echoing useless as everything was ripped from her. The way they pulled and peeled- it was enough to summon the sting of tears. "Please! Please stop!" This was uncertainty; it felt like nothing more than nails digging down her skin. Soon she was wrapped in nothing but long jagged marks and the speckling of someone else's blood.

"Stop! Just Stop!" But even as the shrieks broke down to whimpers, the noise that came out of her only seemed to be absorbed by the squabbling around her. And no matter how Sasha tried…no matter how small she tried to make herself, they were still there, prodding and pulling at her with their greedy hands. There was nothing left on her person but jewelry and they wanted that too.

Sasha couldn't even look at the two girls who were all but throwing fists over the small silver hoops in her ears, only when she felt one begin to rip through her ear lobe, did something other than a dry heaving sob come screaming out of the young woman's lips. "Don't rip them out of her ears, you idiots. You maim her and the Collector will have your asses."

The new voice was enough to suppress the pulling. But the weight of the earrings left her anyway. "Where am I?! Who the hell are you people?!" But the only answer the woman earned was the feel of her locket cutting into her neck as someone's black painted nails curled around it. In one gut clenching moment, all modesty for her bareness was forgotten as Sasha clamped her trembling hands down on them, lifting her gaze to a girl with raven hair. If they take it…there's no hope of getting out of this. "Not this!" She hissed, feeling her own necklace begin to choke her as the girl's plush lips curved into a guiling smile.

"You don't get a choice, Pretty One." With her fingernails all but creating half-moons in the girl's pale fingers, Sasha could feel her words beginning to bubble up when something small…like a stone hit the black nailed girl in the back of the head. The second the teen jumped to her feet, the pressure around Sasha's neck released, leaving the woman choking on the dusty air. "Who the fuck threw that?!" The crowd all but stilled, becoming nothing but a hum of whispers and murmurs as a sharp voice echoed out.

"I did! That's enough!"

Through the blur of her watery eyes and the soft plumes of smoke, Sasha could only make out such a small shadow standing at the edge of the parted throng. Only when it moved could she see the small silver haired girl with her armful of rocks. Rocks she continued fling. No one dared to move when the dark haired girl dashed for her, forcing her to drop the pile in a clatter as she turned to flee. But it wasn't enough. She was caught by the back of the shirt and thrown to the dirt. "Who are you to tell me what to do you little runt?!" The teen screeched, as she landed right on top of the child. "How 'bout I make it so you can never talk again? How 'bout that that?!" It's not real. What I'm watching can't be real! But to her horror, the girl was forcing the little blonde's mouth open with one hand, and fisting her fingers around the fallen rocks with the other. No one moved. No one batted an eye. No one even tried to help her. They just continued to stare…and whisper.

She was trying to help you…The woman could feel her stomach flip as her mouth fell open. "Just take it! Leave her be!" She didn't know this kid from Adam, what the fuck was she saying?! But the sound of the girl choking on the rocks and dirt, only made the woman yell louder. "She's just a kid! Take the damn thing!" But just as Sasha felt herself stumbling to get to her feet, someone with hair the color of a flame came barreling in knocking the dark haired girl back with a tackle to the ground.

"Big mistake, Bitch!"

Sasha could feel her body collapsing, as the child rolled to her side, spitting up rocks and coughing up clouds of dust from her blood caked mouth.

"Aw, big sister Aiden to the rescue!"

"That doesn't exactly work in your favor, Jerica."

The girl named Jerica leapt to her feet, forcing a shriek to rip out of Sasha's mouth when she caught the glimmer of metal in the primitive light. Only when the blade clipped the side of Aiden's twisting head did the young woman realize her mistake. She had distracted the girl. But as the blood rolled down her cheek, the girl stepped back as if she were preparing herself for the next attack. "She bleeds!"

Her assailant came rushing at her with and overhand slash for the girl's head and neck, but as Sasha's lungs tightened, so certain the girl was going to get stuck by the blade, Aiden quickly threw her hands up, grabbing the inside of the girl's wrist and upper arm with both hands. In the space it took to blink she bent that arm back, clearing her own space as she brought the girl to bend down. No sooner did her knee come up and pop the girl in the face, did she wrench the blade away from her fingers.

The feel of something itchy and rough wrapping around her body made Sasha jolt, she'd been so focused on the two warring girls that she hadn't noticed the child had made it to her side. Her fingers eagerly curled around the weathered blanket as she watched the girl with hair the color of fire dive on top of her opponent, pressing that blade to her throat. "Ever come near my sister again, I'll kill you in your sleep."

"Aiden! Save it for the pits!" The new voice had the throng splitting open, letting a broad shouldered man with a long blonde ponytail cut through to rip the girls apart. Keeping a firm twist on Aiden's arm, he left Jerica laughing on the ground.

"Why can't I just kill her now and be done with it?!" Aiden snapped, yanking herself out of his hold. The man never stepped any closer. Any closer and his face would be completely in the light.

"Says the bitch who can only kill me when I'm sleeping!"

"I'd kill you any time."

"If you kill her without the collector's permission, you're as good as dead. And what good is a dead sister?" Even in those dusky shadows, Sasha could feel the weight of his gaze resting on her. It was enough to make her skin prickle. "Who'll take care of that one?" He asked gruffly. But no sooner had the query broken the tension did the small child beside her rise to her feet.

"I will."

"Damn bleeding heart." Aiden groaned, paying no mind to the man's subtle nod or Jerica as she climbed to her feet just to walk right up and fist her fingers on the chain around Sasha's neck. It came off with a snap. With a purse of her lips she simply sauntered off-twirling her prize in her fingers.


"It happens to everyone who comes here." The small voice, all but shook the young woman from her thoughts. These scrapes and scratches, the blood on her neck…an imprint of the chain that had once been there. It wasn't just a gold locket with familiar faces inside…

"Where is here?" Sasha asked, tucking her long slender legs under her chin paying no mind to how the steam of the spring had turned her skin akin to a raisin. Hot springs under the city of Gotham. Who would've thought?

"Hell."

"Aiden, stop it."

"No. It's crash course time." The girl hissed, stopping to crouch at the water's edge. "Bet'cha didn't think you'd be sold into slavery in this day and age. " She said, tapping Sasha on the arm where those rings marred her skin. "They picked you because you were something someone desired."

"You-you mean…sex trafficking?" The young woman stammered. But the redhead was glancing up at the stone ceiling.

"They snatch us off the street, train us in a profession and sell us off…you might get lucky. The collector has a thing for girls like you. You better know how to dance, and dance well. Only black market children and the extremely talented end up on the auction block. The rest of us are forced to scramble to hone a skill or else end up being sold to a brothel or some fucking pervert."

"But you're a good dancer, right? You might be okay. It's not just the creeps they sell to. People are always looking for maids and governesses, hired hands…and good fighters. All sorts of stuff really." Clara put in quickly, watching the woman's face pale at her sister's words.

"I'm just a college student…I'm not with a dance company or anything."

"You're screwed."

"Aiden!"

Scrambling for the towel Clara had given her, Sasha peeled herself from the water in a panic. "Is there a way out of here?!" She asked, watching Aiden rise to her feet. "Has anyone ever escaped from here?!"

"Do you even know where you are?! You so far underground that not even Satan himself can hear your ass!" Aiden snapped. "We've tried! If they catch you, they kill you!" The girl twisted around, pressing her thin arms into her chest. "Then they sell off your organs. Even in death…they make money off you."

"This was supposed to be one of the very first subways in the city at the turn of the century, but as they were building they hit the springs. Without enough money to continue on this spot, Gotham just cut its losses and walled it up and built new tunnels and stations right on top of it. Most of Gotham doesn't even know it's here…" Clara put in slowly. "That's why the entire town is built out of train cars."

"How long before they sell you off?" Sasha asked, her words all but forcing Aiden to face her.

"It depends on you. If you're not useful in anything in particular, they'll try to sell you off as quick as possible. Even if it means you end up being someone's hooker in the red-light district."

"What do they do…with children? Like your sister?"

"Babies and toddlers are sold off to couples—but…" Aiden shook her head, turning away from the weight of her little sister's gaze. "She's too old for that. They're not above selling to pedophiles." Aiden said slowly, watching Clara's throat bob as she swallowed.

"We've seen it happen." The child uttered thickly. "But Aiden's going to teach me to fight…that's why the Collector let us stay together so long. Groups that come in and buy the best fighters. They turn them into body guards."

"And you think you can do that?" Sasha asked, paying no mind to Aiden as she averted her gaze. But Clara's nervous fingers told her all she needed to know. No. She couldn't. This child was way too smart or kind for that line of work. She could feel the words bubbling at her lips again, and before her brain could tell her mouth to shut the fuck up, her heart was shoving the words out. You have a better chance of escaping than she does.

"Is there any way to get that locket back?" She asked suddenly, earning nothing more than a scoff from Aiden.

"Forget it!"

"You don't understand! It could save us!" She shot out, as the girl started to walk away. "What if I told you that I had a Robin looking out for me?" She called, watching the girl pause with an ear to the air.

Clara's small mouth was wide open. "You-you mean…the Batman and Robin? That Robin?!" The child cried.

"Yes. What if I told you there was a tracking device in that locket?" She asked, watching Aiden turn at last, but before she knew it the girl was upon her gripping her by the front of her towel.

"Are you shitting me?! You're not making this up?!"

"No. All we have to do is turn it on. If we give it to your sister, it'll lead him right to her no matter where she goes."

"You're going to give the only thing that could save your ass to a kid you don't know?"

"She risked herself for me."

"And just what the hell are you going to do?"

"Dance my ass off and pray." With that the girl uncoiled her fingers and turned for the exit.

"Aiden! Where you going?!"

"There's only one way to get it back now!" Aiden shouted, refusing to look back at her little sister's crumbling form.

"Where's she going?"

"The pits…to fight Jerica."

"So if she beats up this Jerica, she'll get it back?"

But the little blonde was shaking her head. "Doesn't work like that. Jerica has the highest price tag among all the fighters. She's the champion. The only way to defeat her…is to kill her."


"Good work as always." The man murmured, aware of scoffing sound that was all but hissing through the good doctor's bandages. Instead he let his gloved finger's cup the young man's chin, turning his face this way and that as he inspected the man's handiwork.

"Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work."

"He left a scar on my chin."

"A reminder." The man said, watching the boy's pale blue eyes grow with the pressure of his fingers. "That was just a shoe. I wouldn't tell the ladies that if I were you." He added smacking the young man on the cheek. "I won't be so kind next time. This is your last chance. Now, go find us a songbird. Relatively young."

"Vocal Range?"

"Surprise me." He said lightly, watching the young man slide to his feet from the bench. "Take a couple owls with you, but do try to keep them intact. They're on loan."

"Yes, Master. Thanks again, Doc."

"Don't mention it. Ever." But just as the young man went to open the door, the doctor spoke again. "Ask Nurse Evelyn for your scripts. And Seth…" The boy paused. "Don't call me Doc."

"Is it me or is everyone just a little mad around here?" The blonde muttered, but he nodded anyway, letting the Collector's words chase him out into the hall.

"There is no great genius without a mixture of madness. Do you require anything?"

"Test subjects."

The man in the mask knew better than to ask. It was strange tit for tat kind of relationship between the two. One fixed the broken collectables, while the other found more for the good doctor to break. There was only one rule. Don't ask questions. Who was he to ask what the consumer did with the goods? All he did was collect them. "Consider it done."


How long did she stand there trying to let that nauseating smell of chlorine seep into her skin? How many times did she have to glance down at the tiles just to be sure nothing was running red? She'd always avoided that room, and had made sure to do so every night since. She didn't hear his bare feet sticking to the floor, she didn't see his shirt pooling on the floor. But the moment that hand cupped her elbow, it took everything she had not to come at him swinging. Her muscles were all but trembling and yet…he didn't let go.

"You got this…I was with you then, and I'm with now, okay?" The second his fingers uncurled from her flesh, she felt her lungs force a shuddered breath, watching him break the smooth surface of the water with a simple dive into the pool. Forcing her jellied legs to move to the edge she sank to the floor, feeling the itch of anxiety begin to crawl up her feet all the way to her fingers. It's not the drowning you're afraid of. You've already done that. But as the girl eased her legs into the lukewarm water, she could feel her heart begin to hammer away. What are you afraid of? Under Tim's steady gaze, the girl eased herself into the pool.

"I don't know if-I can't-" Don't let fear be the boss.

"Yes you can." Feeling his fingers grip around her wrist, he yanked her into shallower waters, before reaching for her other hand. "You're not going to drown. I can promise you that."

"It's not that I…"

"Then what?"

"I'm afraid I'll…"

When his hands reached out and cupped her face, pulling her close enough she could feel his exhales on her skin, the words trailed. "I'm not gonna let you quit, Del. But the only one who can decide when to surrender is you." He murmured, letting her go, forcing her to keep herself above the water on her own. "We're just going to wade into it one step at a time."


"I'm gonna kill him!" Damian announced, letting that heavy door slam behind him. But as the boy slid into that hall that was slowly starting to grow familiar, nothing responded to him but the soft notes of a piano. It wasn't a melody he was familiar with, but it was enough to pull him closer to the soft shadow that was gently swaying to the music. For just the briefest of moments, Delilah paused, lifting up her head like she might actually respond to him, but her slender hand only reached for a pencil to put to the blank bars of the sheet music. He had no choice but to scoff at her back before plopping down in the empty space of her bench. "And as well as you listen, I might as well kill you too." He added, letting his eyes follow her fingers as they lay back down on the keys, filling the room with careful notes. "I'll bury you in the garden so every time someone walks out there they'll be walking right on top of you. Don't worry, I'll take care your stupid dog."

"Bet the roses would take off." The girl murmured suddenly, taking the pencil from her teeth to jot down a few more notes. "I'd throw your body in the pond. You could feed the fish. And then when it froze, I'd skate on you. I'd probably have to cut you up into tiny pieces first. Maybe I'll just use your katana for that." She said, letting a few more bars echo out from the piano. But then she was looking at him. "Don't worry, I'd make sure that that mean ass cat of yours was taken care of for the rest of his days though." She shot him a faint little smile, but the boy just rolled his big green eyes, letting his fingers fiddle with the keys before him.

He didn't expect her to pause letting the pencil grow still in her hand before slowly looking down at him. Her fingertips carefully ran through her last four bars but then she just looked at him so expectantly. "Play that again." She murmured, paying no mind to that sigh that seemed to be collapsing through him as his fingers banged on the keys. "Ooo, No. Softer. You're not trying to beat it to death." Before his mouth could utter a word, he could feel her hand pressing into his back. "Sit up straighter." She instructed, watching the boy unfold himself beside her. "It's just like the little hawks. You can't just fling them in air any more than you can bang around on the keys. It takes precision-finesse." She added, giving him a nudge with her elbow as she played the same keys once more. "Again."

His fingers moved, softer now, winning nothing more than a nod of her head and a whisper of praise before she put that pencil to the sheet music again. He could hear the door opening, but made no move to turn his head, he kept his eyes on Del's nimble fingers, watching them fold out over the keys. "So what did Dick do now?"

"Not Grayson." The boy said with a snort. "It's that other idiot!"

"It's only been a week, Damian."

"We don't need him!" We? Did he actually say we?!

"Dick needs to have at least one night to himself or he'll go nuts." Del muttered. "You can't go by yourself, and neither can I." Never mind that they weren't to engage any major criminals without back up. But that was another ball of wax.

"Then the solution is obvious." He hissed, watching her turn the page of the sheet music. "We go."

"The Wayne children take on Gotham." Hearing Sam's voice Del's fingers stilled. "That's a little more than terrifying." She murmured skipping over to the girl's side, ignoring Damian's groan completely. "But you're not on patrol tonight are you?" The girl asked, pressing her hands together.

"No. Dad wants me to have one final checkup first." The girl grumbled, watching for Damian's fingers as she pulled the cover over the keyboard.

"Good." Sam said firmly, tapping her fingers together. "Because if you were, the nerds waiting for us at Mama Lou's would riot." There. That made the girl pause. "We thought we might steal you and go have some fun. One of the guys was telling me you guys usually sneak into places with good acoustics. I already cleared it with the Boss Man." She said quickly, stopping only to purse her lips together. "Maybe not the breaking and entering part…"

Delilah hung her head, not giving that child beside her a second glance as his face soured under her stifled laugh. "I think I know where we could go actually." The girl said, slowly rising to her feet. "But there's one stop I have to make, if that's okay? I just want to drop something off."

"Sure, okay." Watching the girl dash down the hall, Sam eased herself into the vacated spot. "She hasn't played the piano with anyone else since Max." But Damian said nothing as he pulled himself from the bench. He simply walked to the door.

"I know."


"Delilah." The second her father's fingers gripped around her arm, forcing her to pause there on the stairs, all she could think about was the weight of the key thumping her in the chest. Did he see me slip into the office? Did he open the safe? She let out a soundless breath, watching his fingers disappear into the pocket of his tux. "Take this." The microphone seemed so small in his hand. But the girl reached for it carefully, letting it fit into her ear. "And you can have this back." He added, reaching right into her coat pocket for her phone.

"You're looking awful snazzy." She said, watching him pry the device open and place its original card back in place. The locator was still there. "What's the monkey suit for?" She asked, watching his chest fall with an exhale. "Oh, whatever. Your other suit is probably in the car already, and you'll sneak out after you've had all the butt kissing you can stand." She groaned, watching his lips twitch ever so slightly as he let her phone slide right back into her pocket. "Your fractures aren't healed completely…but yet I can't—"

"Del."

"I know! I know! 'Do as I say, not as I do.' Blah, blah, blah." She said with her own sigh as she reached out and fixed his crooked bowtie. "One bat calling the other black, but I digress." With that she twisted her way around and prepared to hop down the stairs when her father's fingers hooked into the collar of her coat, forcing the key around her neck to jerk.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull." He said coolly, forcing the hair on the back of her neck to stand. "But I don't like it."

"I'm not-"

Without warning he relieved her of her backpack, ripping it open to reveal the original batgirl suit stuffed inside. "What else do you have on you?" He asked dryly, watching her fingers sink to the inside of her coat revealing her Taser and a grappling gun. "You can keep those, but I'm keeping this." He said, letting the bag fall to his feet.

"Ugh. C'mon You-" Getting nothing but that wordless stare, Del put her hands on her hips, feeling the weight of the guitar case smack into the side of her leg. "Fine. Ya hypocrite."

"One last check up, not before. Now get out of here."

The second Del felt the soft sleet tapping her on the cheek, the weight of the guitar case was peeled from her fingers. She watched as Sam weighed the thing in her hands. "Did you just-"

"Yep. Dad has Barb's, my suit is still sitting on the table in the cave, but your new prototype..." The girl gave the case a shake. "The material folds nicely now."

"Dick was right. You are trouble. No wonder we're friends." Sam said with a scoffing laugh. "But this is just to test it, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I've rewired it four times now, but it's still shorting out. I don't know what's causing it."

"I rather find out when I'm off duty than on duty."


"Are you sure about this?" Sam uttered, peering at the dim glow that was pooling just outside of the Drunken Crow. There was something to be said about the parts of Gotham that lacked street lamps. But to her chagrin the girl in the passenger seat was shoving the door open. "What could you possibly…"

"I'll just be a minute." Del said quickly as she tossed the Taser into Sam's lap. Pulling a much lighter guitar case from the back seat, the girl let her lungs fill with air. "Lock the doors." She commanded, pulling the deep set hood over her head, letting the shadows conceal her face. Was she sure about this? No. Not really. But this was the last known place of residence her father had for Benjamin "Bird" Larson.

Stepping into that smoke filled pub, all Del could feel was the itch of her fingers and the weight of the guitar pulling on her arm. With unknown faces turning to stare at her, Del forced herself to breathe in the smell of cigarettes and stale beer. Tugging the tip of her hood down, she made a straight shot for the bar, the charms on her boots announcing every step. Please be here. She didn't realize it was like a prayer until the dark haired bartender glanced up, giving her a toothy grin that made her insides squirm. "What do we have here?" The second his grubby hand reached out to touch the hood of her coat, she caught him by the wrist.

"Bird. Where can I find him?" She asked, watching that smile hide behind his twisting lips. When his free hand came up, she twisted his hand back, forcing him to crash hard on his elbows right there at the bar, the vibration causing glasses and shots to spill to the floor. It was enough to dispel the soft murmur of the front of the house. "I don't think you heard me well enough."

"Ow, Jesus, what the fuck-"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON UP THERE?!" At the sound of the that voice bellowing from the walls behind the bar, Del released the man. He's here.

"There's—There's a girl up here looking for you, Boss."

"Pay the bitch, and send her on her way! It can't be that damn complicated!"

"Who are you calling a bitch?! I'll kick your ass into the middle of next year." In that short heart hammering silence, she could hear a low hum of hissing and laughing curses. And yet all she could hear was that familiar voice.

"Damn it! get back here already!"


The second he heard those charms banging together, the whiskey in Jason's mouth went down hard. Oh Hell no. What the fuck is she doing here?! It took everything he had to keep his staring to glance, watching the muscles in her shoulders hitch when she saw him sitting there at the table. Hell, that called for another shot. "Such a loud mouth for a tiny thing." The Old Man crooned, as he chomped down on his cigar, watching the girl shrink against the wall hugging the shadows as the guitar case hung heavily in both hands.

"Watch it, Girly." At Val's words, Jason couldn't help but twist his head, watching her step back until she bumped into the perch that was anything but empty.

"What is it you want, Pretty One?" Jason let his eyes settle back on the cards, letting his free hand slide to his pocket to click off the safety of his glock. Val's lap was empty tonight and the creep was climbing to his feet.

"How do you know she's pretty?" He asked crossing the space. "You can't even see her face." Bird didn't answer; instead he simply raised his head, watching the girl step back. "All talk and no game, eh, Honey?" But no sooner had the man stretched out his arm to reach for her hood, that falcon at her back hissed and screeched, flapping his wings in agitation.

"Go ahead." She spat as the man's hand stilled in the air. "I dare you." Oh, He would've given anything to see that prick's face. "You know what? I don't think he likes you." She said, tilting her head toward the bird. "I don't like you."

"You probably have the face of a dog anyway." Val sneered just as Bird beckoned the girl forward with the crook of his finger. Glancing over his shoulder, Jason could see her shoving her way by the man, making sure to always stay in the cover of the shadows.

"Big words for a man who probably has to pay for his company."

That was enough to make Roach spill his guts, and stranger still…it seemed to make Bird's mouth form the tightest of smiles as his arm reached up into the air summoning the falcon from across the room. "Val, sit down and shut up. She won that round." He said, letting that cranky creature settle on the back of his chair as he lifted his eyes to the hooded girl. "Now, what do you want?" He asked again. But Delilah said nothing as she skirted around the table holding that guitar case out to him.

Bird immediately sat up, letting the case rest on his lap as the dingy room filled with the sound of unhinging latches. For a long moment the man just sat there staring inside the case. "I think it rightfully belongs to you now." She said evenly. Without another word she took a step back, no doubt preparing to make a quick exit when Roach's hand gripped around her wrist.

"Leaving so soon? But you just got here."

"Roach." With Bird's warning hanging in the air, the man uncurled his fingers from the girl's arm just as Jason felt his fingers leave the grip of his gun. "Don't come back here." He told her, watching her twist and dash out the door, leaving a strange wave of tension and the sound of clinking metal in her wake. It took a few hands before Bird finally pulled the case off his lap, tossing his cards down as he pried himself up from his chair. "It's Friday night, I do believe its Fight Night, Gentlemen. Let's get these drunk asses out of here." No sooner had Jason started to peel himself up, did he find the man eying him. "Think you're ready for the big leagues, JT?"

"Sure."

At first Bird said nothing more as he scraped up the pot and tossed the chips back into their cases. But when that heavy hand came down on his shoulder, Jason stilled. "I don't think you are. But it might be amusing to see you try and prove me wrong." With that he shoved the chip cases in Jason's arms. "Put those up behind the bar will you?"

What the hell was Pipsqueak doing here? Was he crazy? Or was Bird protecting her again? Why the hell would he? The guy was Bane's lieutenant after all! Hearing the old man murmur, Jason paused behind the bar. "Don't leave me in suspense, what'd she bring you?" Reminding himself of what he was supposed to be doing, he shoved the cases on the shelf, tilting his head as he heard the guitar case scraping along the floor.

"Your guitar."


Wayne Central Station. The lettering had been eaten away by the elements long ago, but as Jason eyed the fencing that had been erected around it, he couldn't stop that nagging feeling that was pickling the back of his neck. The train station…again. With his boots pressing in the then layer exhaust colored slush, he could see the shadows around him pulling things out of the car. No guns. At least none that he could see. "What are we doing here?" He asked, watching his breath flair up in a thin veil of fog.

"It's the easiest access point to where we're going." The words fell so simply out of Bird's mouth, as he tossed a heavy looking baton over the hood of the car to Val's open hand. No sooner did Jason twist on his feet, did the man go to strike him. He never expected the young man's gloved fingers to reach it first.

"Aw, shit."

Planting a foot in the man's chest he watched him hit the grimy concrete. But then there was that hissing voice behind him. "Amateurs." The second he felt that weight smack him upside his head, Jason couldn't hear a thing. Hell as his body slumped forward he was sure he couldn't even feel anything. With a shrug of his shoulders, Bird let the heavy bar slide from his fingers as he crouched down by Jason's head. "Sorry 'bout this, Kid. But we can't let you see the way in." Jason couldn't so much as utter a word as the weight of a mask flopped on his face. Roach was less than careful when he shoved that black casing over his head, killing any chance he had of see a damn thing. Oh, fuck. His only hope was that they wouldn't start to rifle through his pockets.


"I don't get it, how can someone eat like you eat and look like you look?"

"Mason."

"I'm serious! You were chowing down like someone was going to steal it from you."

"Did you see what she did to me when I tried to take a piece of bacon off her plate?!" Mason, Shane, Mai and Sam. God, she missed these people. They were the kind of people that filled these dark streets with booming laughs and lyrical voices. The kind of kids who teased and made their shadows dance along the walls as the slipped and slid on the compacted sleet. They made her feel silly even…normal. "She stabbed that fork right between my fingers! Damn good aim."

Del couldn't help but twist about on the sidewalk. "What are you talking about, Shane? I missed." She all but purred, watching the boy's jaw go slack, summoning a chorus of laughter from the line of bodies along the sidewalk. "It's a shame Chrissy couldn't join us." She added, twisting back as the shadows rose up around them.

"When you're sick, you're sick. But hey, we got Samantha with us now." The boy said, slinging an arm around Sam's shoulders as if he'd always known her. "You've reached your point of no return my little friend."

"Mai! Help!" But no sooner had the girl's silly request cry out into the air did she lift her eyes to the shadows that were all but swallowing them whole. "Del…" She started, watching the slender figure curl her fingers into the chain-link fence. "Where are we?" But as Sam slid out from under Shane's heavy arm, to wince up at the rusted letters, she could feel the air rushing out of her lungs. Wayne Station.

There was nothing more than a collective silence now, say for the sound of sneakers and boots as they scuffed through the sleet ridden ground to get a closer look at the bolus building that lingered just out of their reach. "It's huge."

"And empty…" Del whispered, not sure what was causing the ache at the back of her throat. "Been that way since 70's."

"Sure we can climb the fence but—" Mason's words slid into nothing more than soft little clouds as Delilah Wayne shed her hood away, to peel a big brass key from around her neck. "I stand corrected." He murmured, watching the girl's gloved fingers fist around the object before she carefully scaled the fence, paying no mind to the soft rattle of metal and ice as she landed in a crouch on the other side.

"We don't own it anymore…" She said softly, watching them shimmy over one by one. "So if we get caught, run like hell."


He wasn't sure if he was simply going where the shadows lead him, or if the sound of voices echoing in this place drew him in. Even in the stark moonlight he could make out the shape of their bodies as the teens scattered about, giving low whistles as they tilted their heads to dusty glass ceiling. But as he stood there, blanketed in the darkness just out of reach, he could see that one slender form stepping so carefully through the space, fisting her fingers over that key around her neck as she walked through the flicker of shadows and moonlight, stretching out her fingers to touch the dusty pillars.

"Del?" Only a voice seemed to pull the girl's head from the ceiling and the patches of sky that whistled through the broken panes. "You okay?"

"Yeah…it's just…it's a little strange." Del murmured, holding her hand out to the sleet that was falling to the floor. "Like…I'm walking through someone else's dream—my grandfather's dream." The words fell out of her with a soft shrug. "I hate seeing it like this." Grandfather? And her name was Del? Feeling his weight sag against the wall, he paid no mind to the eyes on his back, instead he watched the girl blow the flecks of sleet out of her gloves as if it were nothing more than fairy dust. Was it strange or ironic that he'd find Delilah Wayne sneaking in to Wayne Station? Gods be good. Gods be good indeed.

It was curiosity that made him hold his position, despite being aware of the restlessness that was building around him. Owls were never patient things—a little creepy, deadly, silent but not patient. He was sure why, but as he watched the silhouettes come together he found his fingers tingling with excitement. It was as if he knew he would be rewarded long before their voices rose, filling the station with a mournful hymn. He could still pick out her voice, not that he ever expected it to be so sultry. Who knew Delilah Wayne was so musically inclined?

As the group slowly slid away from the eerie chant and rolled effortlessly into more popular tunes, the boy found himself smiling as a new shy voice finally joined in. Master wanted a songbird. He was going to get more than that. "I want those two. The girl with the key and the soprano— try to be gentle with them. You break it, you bought it, and one of them is worth millions." Oh, tonight was going to be an easy one.


He didn't know this smell, musty like earth and water, even a hint of cologne—the expensive shit. Only when his ears began to hear the hum of murmuring voices did he feel the prick of metal at his back. Opening his eyes all he could see was the flicker of fire light on old gray bricks.

"Sleeping Beauty's coming around." For a long moment he could only stare at that white masked face that was peering down at him, but the voice was familiar. Roach.

"Fuck you…" He hissed as he peeled himself up. It was then he realized he'd been laying on something akin to a catwalk high above the ground. He went to place his fingers in his pockets when he found something other than his coat draped across him—a cloak.

"Don't be mad at me, I ain't the one who hit ya."

"You're not going to be sore about that all night, are you?" Another familiar voice in a faceless white mask and dusky green cloak—Bird.

"Feel like I've been hit by a bus." Jason muttered, wincing when he realized his temple was still tender. "What the hell is up with the get up?" He asked, but no sooner had he turned on his heel did he realize that the catwalks that circled the space were filled with white masked faces in green cloaks.

Jason could feel his mouth opening, but the sound of a warring scream forced his eyes to the large pit below them. Under the glare of large plasma screens he could see two teenage boys circling each other, skin covered in bruises, sweat and blood. The pits. "What's the numbers? A purse?" Jason asked, trying to clear the bile from his throat with a jerk of his chin to the screens.

"Odds are on the lower screen. That screen is showing the current bids on the fighters." As if to match the man's words, Jason could see a numbered paddle lifting to the air beside them. Even with the mask and the cloak, Jason could see the familiar tattoos trailing up the beast's arm. Ubu. He'd recognize sack of meat anywhere. Not wanting to stare for too long, Jason let his eyes return to the fight below, watching as a boy lunged at his opponent, forcing the body to go still in his arms as blood started to pool at their feet. He only let go when a referee jumped in to yank them apart letting the broken boy crawl out on his hands and knees leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

"They don't usually kill each other." Bird said plainly as he reached out to the holographic keyboards that circled around the railing. "Only challenge fights can end up that way. They have their own ranking system resulting in a champion for males and females. Most people usually place their money on them."

"Isn't the next fight a challenge?" Jason could hardly hear the words; he was too busy watching the victor raise his blood caked hands in the air for the thunderous applause. Gotham's children were fighting one another right under their feet. What kind of world did he just step into?

Watching as the blood was scrapped back into the dirt, making the pit fresh and new again, he found himself staring up at the new faces that had taken up the screen. Looking up at that familiar face, Jason felt his mouth going dry. "So," Bird inquired as he leaned forward on the rail. "Who are you gonna put your money on, Kid?"

"The redhead." Before his thick words could fade from the air they were swallowed by the sound of hoarse laughs.

"The challenger? Challengers hardly ever win."

At that, Jason forced his lips to work themselves into a wiry smirk. "Maybe. But redheads are crazy." He murmured, watching as another familiar child was pried away from her, forcing the girl to turn and yell something back. No, this one would win. She had someone she had to protect—dying wouldn't be an option.


I don't have a choice. I have to get her out of here. Feeling the loose dirt under her feet, Aiden could only take in a sharp breath, letting the sound of her exhale quell the sound the intercom and the wave a voices it wrought.

These people, these blank faces with black holes for eyes, they couldn't smell the blood, they couldn't feel her heart pulsing in her head. She simply eyed the dark haired bitch across the ring before lifting her gaze to that man on the platform. With a nod of his head and clap of his hands, the buzzer rang, sending Jerica running for her, that locket bouncing around her neck.

Tossing her knife into the dirt, she tried to ignore the swirl of voices that echoed around them as she jumped back from the point of Jerica's jabbing blade. "Are you trying to insult me?!" Jerica hissed catching her down the arm with her blade as the girl's fingers gripped her by the arm, twisting her wrist into the same wristlock. What the girl wasn't accounting for was for Jerica to knock her feet from under her. She could see it in the way her irises grew when she hit the ground in a cloud of dust. Landing right on top of her, she could only grin up at the screen, watching her price tag climb ever higher as the body beneath her withered. That was of course until that pointy elbow shot up and slammed into her cheek. "Right after I cut your throat, I think I'll play with Clara before I send her to meet you." She whispered, watching the blood roll down the girl's neck as she pressed the blade into her neck. Only Aiden's sudden smile made her hesitate.

Bending at the abs, Aiden could feel the knife digging deeper into her skin as she planted her head as hard as she could into Jerica's, forcing the girl to rip the knife away as she hooked the girl's legs with her own. All it took was a buck of her body to off throw her weight and roll. Before the girl could put her arms up, Aiden made sure to plant her balled fist in the girl's face, feeling some satisfaction when the soft cartilage of Jerica's nose gave, breaking the bone in the process.

But it was in that moment, she felt something hot and sharp ripping into her side. Jerica had managed to stab her. Unsure if the knife had nicked anything vital, Aiden tumbled back, grabbing at her side as the girl bridged to her feet. "Bet you're wishing you hadn't put that knife down, aren't ya?" Jerica teased, watching the girl's fingers come from her side slick and red. If she shoved it in far enough I won't have much time. I have to kill her and I have to do it now.


Blood. "AIDEN!" But she never looked up. The noise of the crowd was all but suffocating her panicked cry. Only Sasha's slender arms seemed to root the squirming child to the earth no matter how she kicked and flailed, the woman gripped tighter. "Let me go! Let me go! She can't die!" Die. The word forced her own silence, forced her body to go slack right there in Sasha's arms. She had no choice but let her eyes continue to burn, blurring the two bodies together as her eyes coated themselves with tears. Jerica had her from behind, fingers fisted into that brilliant red hair with her knife wielding hand draped around her neck. Any second…she was going to drag it across Aiden's throat like they'd seen her do to the others so many times before.

But as the girl blinked, trying to ignore the itch of the tears that were trickling down her cheeks, she saw something in that screen. Aiden's lips were moving. Have faith. Just as she felt her little nails digging into her own palms, her sister jerked her head back, smacking Jerica with the back of her head. With her opponent in a daze, she shoved the girl backward, mashing her into the wall with her body. Only then did she hit the girl with the back of her head again. It was like the entire crowd could hear the girl's head smacking the bricks.

I can't let you live. Before Jerica could escape the space, Aiden twisted on her heel, kicking the girl back into the wall. "Why don't you just die!" The second, Jerica's weight slammed into her body, Aiden let herself fold to the ground, pushing that armed hand over the girl's head as they rolled in the dust.

"You first." Aiden hissed, relieved when her groping fingers found the handle of her blade still sticking out of the dirt. There was a moment she could see the surprise in Jerica's big dark eyes as Aiden came out on top gripping that knife like an icepick. "I'm sorry. My sister has to live!" She didn't recognize the sound that was ripping out of her when the knife went down, cutting through flesh and piercing through bone, assaulting the air with the smell of blood. I'm sorry. Was it a scream? Or a wail? Was it something to mask the sound of the girl beneath her gasping for air? She wasn't sure, she just continued to let the knife plunge until it slipped from her blood slicked hands.

Under the haze of thunderous applause, the girl slid from the crumpled body beneath her. She didn't revel in the moment, she didn't lift her arms in victory. She simply reached down and yanked the locket from the dead girl's neck.

Only when someone grabbed her by the arm, did she seem to break from the heavy spell that was all but suffocating her. But as she tried to rip her arm away, the retainers reached for her again, forcing her head to twist to the screen. High bid: $2,000,000. Sold. Someone bought me. "Aiden!" Twisting in their hold, she reached for the tiny girl, pressing the bloody chain into her fingers as her hands clasped her own.

"Do as Sasha says. Do as she says!" She cried, watching the child's face crumble in an open sob. "I'll find my way back to you!" She shot out, feeling her feet dig into the dirt as they began to drag her back. "I promise!"

"NO! YOU CAN'T GO-"

"Clara!" Watching Sasha reach out to grab the girl and wrap that locket around her neck, she could only mouth the words as she was pulled further and further away. I love you. Clara seemed to go limp in Sasha's arms, pressing her hands to her heart like their parents had always done. It wasn't supposed to happen this way…


"The new champion." Hearing that voice, Aiden yanked herself from the grip that had pulled her across the ring. "Aiden, I really thought you'd be happier. We'll have the surgeon look at those wounds before you go." Happy? What part of this was happy? She couldn't even look at the giant lug of a man that was standing at the Collector's side; instead the girl just lifted her chin.

"You're an asshole." She hissed. "But I'll be getting away from you, so there's that."

"Always looking for the silver lining. That's why I like you, Aiden."

"WIAT! Where are you taking her?!" Hearing Sasha's panicked voice proceeded by Clara's piercing shriek, Aiden whirled around watching the retainers rip her sister from Sasha's arms.

"What are you doing with my sister?!" The girl roared at the masked man, irritated by how unmoving the faceless wonder was. "You promised-"

"Because she's your sister, she's elevated in value. She's off to the auction block." The man said lightly, watching the girl's face crease into a perfect scowl. "Don't make such faces. Remember I've created the person you are, Young Lady."

" If I ever get the chance to rip your heart out, I hope you remember that you had a hand in making me this way." Feeling the weight of an awfully large hand, Aiden glanced up at the behemoth of a man. "You bought me, huh?"

"Yes." Without another word the man started walking, pausing only when she didn't follow.

"Got a name?" She asked, picking at the dried blood on her hands.

"The call me Ubu."

"Who's they?"

"You'll see soon enough."


"Looks like you were right." Bird murmured, ignoring the breathy sighs of regret behind him as he printed out their tickets. "And so was I."

"Told you." Jason murmured, watching the girl limp out of the pit in Ubu's shadow. "Redheads are crazy." And once the league of assassins was done with her…she'd be even harder to kill.


"Hey! What the hell are you kids doing in here?!" At the sound of that booming voice cutting through their chatter, Del felt her fingers ripping up her hood just as the beam of a flashlight cut through the hazy darkness. It was enough to make them all scatter across the platform. "Be advised, we have some trespassers." Snatching Sam by the arm of her coat, she shoved her hood over her head and proceeded to drag the girl toward the exit, knowing full well the other three were already making their escape.

"Jesus! You guys do this shit a lot or what?!" Her words only seemed to summon and echo of laughter out of the bodies ahead of them, but the girl who was pulling her around was yanking her in another direction as the sound of keys jingling on a utility belt drew closer. Under Del's direction they stormed up the winding iron stairs, half aware of the officer's yelling and the bouncing beam of his flashlight below their feet. Crashing into a door with the sound of heavy shoes pounding up the same stairs, Sam could see Del ripping the key from her neck and shoving it into the locked door.

"C'mon, Baby, C'mon." The key took some wiggling to cut through the dust and the rust that had planted itself inside old lock, but it went in just the same. Yanking the key from the knob, Del locked it back as she shoved Sam out into the sleet covered world, slamming the door in the officer's face as she all but threw herself through the threshold. The door was still rattling when the girls skirted around the edges of the roof.

"Now what?" Sam asked, trying to ignore the nauseous waves that rose up from her toes as she looked down to the ground. If she squinted hard enough she could see those three shadows scaling back over the fence, sending their whoops of triumph into the air.

"We jump." The girl said, eyeing the building just next door.

"What?! Are you crazy?!" Sam cried, watching the girl back up only to run at the edge. It was too late, Delilah's body was already sailing through the air. "Never mind, don't answer that!"

"You can do it! Run as fast as you can!"

Sam had no choice but to try when the door behind her finally burst open. "Stop right there!" Oh, hell no! Uncle Jim will kill me if we get busted! Before her brain could run through all the scenarios that involved her body falling between the buildings and breaking her bones, Sam ran for it, feeling her hood tugging back as someone tried to nab it with their fingers. Within a breath the ground was gone. With her foot snagging the lip of the roof, she hit the building with a tumble, feeling the gravel bite into her cheek as she spilled to the ground.

But as Del bent down with her hand out, something else caught the girl's eye—something black and quick as a flickering shadow. As she was yanked to her feet, Sam could feel the bile rolling up her throat as she stared at the ominous forms that lingered just on the other side of the roof. "Um…D?" The girl breathed, not able to strip her gaze from the ruby eyed figures. "I-I think…we're in trouble."

With Sam's words all but floating up into the patchy gray sky, Del could feel her skin prickling on the back of her neck as she turned her head about. Assassins. With the initial thought all but rolling from her head down her spine, Delilah rose to her feet, shoving Samantha behind her in the process. "Always gotta be right, don't you?"

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. One would take a step forward, and Del found herself taking a step to the side, shoving Sam's body at the same time. "Hold it right there! I want to see your hands in the air, all of you!" Hearing the sound of a gun scraping its way out of its holster, Del was twisting, but no sooner could she put her eyes on the officer who'd drawn his weapon from across that small gap, could she feel the words ripping her mouth.

"No! Don't!" But it was too late; the flash of the muzzle hit the darkness like a firecracker, shattering the silence with a bang. But as Delilah hear the sound of the bullet whizzing by her head, she realized that something wet and foul had splattered the side of her coat as a dark body zipped right by them, leaping over the gap as if it were nothing. Staring at the rancid stain that smelled more of rotten flesh than fresh blood, Del could feel her heart dropping to her feet as the other bodies finally stepped forward revealing themselves a little at a time. Clawed hands and feet, masks of an owl-these weren't the assassins that she was familiar with. But they filled the night with the gurgle of blood and the sound of ripping flesh just the same.

"Step onto the ledge."

"But-but-"

"Just do it." Del ordered, eyeing the dumpster below as her fingers groped the inside of her pockets. A couple smoke bombs, a Taser and a grappling gun. Not much. Her suit was hiding just under her coat, her cowl was mashed into her pocket, but it was no use to her now. Get Sam to safety first.

Listening to Sam's shoes scrape along the lip of the building, Del fisted her fingers around the smoke bombs. Jabbing the girl with her elbow she could hear that short scream tearing out of Sam's mouth as the night suddenly filled with plumes of black smoke. They wouldn't see them falling. And to keep their cover, Del only continued to fill the alley with smoke as she all but rolled out of the dumpster, yanking Sam with her.

"If we can make them follow you, I can pick them off one at a time." Delilah said forcing herself to take a breath as they darted through the alley to the the side door of an apartment building.

"How-how?!"

But Delilah was already stripping away her coat, ripping the chain of the key from her hair and shoving it at the girl. "Make sure they can see it. Run toward Mama Lou's, toward your car, have your keys in your hand." Even as Samantha tugged Delilah's coat over her own, All Del could see was the pale glow of terror on her face. "I'll be right behind you." She said pulling the newly fitted cowl over her head. It was like slipping back into a glove. "Link On." The Microphone. Dad knew all along.


Don't engage them until you have back up. Her father's warning as all but forgotten the moment she could see Sam's body darting from the lobby, the sound of that heavy key clinking against the zipper of echoing down the sidewalk. That sound, it was almost like a call to attract these strangers, but it wouldn't be the only thing shed from the darkness. Sorry, Dad.

Leaping from the building, she landed on her first victim's shoulders, dropping her weight as she twisted, pressing his neck with her thighs. His struggle to dislodge her only made her squeeze tighter. Any second now he'd drop from the lamp post like a rock. But instead of the head lulling back signaling a blackout—something snapped. The kneejerk reaction was to let go, letting the body fall to the pavement in a heap. No. No! NO! The ground couldn't come fast enough as she hit the pavement, feeling the air stalling in her chest as she moved to rip the mask from the body. Tell me I didn't just kill him! But as her gloved fingers peeled away the fabric, not even the cowl could mask the rancid odor trapped just beneath. The flesh, she realized, was peeling away with the hood. "What the hell are you?" She queried, swallowing the knot that the sour smell summoned to her throat as she ripped the cowl away completely. "You're…dead." Popping her head up, she could still see Sam's form growing smaller and smaller with every stride. There's more of these things. Four of them.

"Anyone nearby? I think I need a hand." No sooner had the words fallen from her lips did she hear the sound of something heavy scuffing on the concrete. "Okay, not dead." She breathed twisting back to see the body pulling itself off the sidewalk. "Scratch that, I'll take the first sword or flamethrower I can get my hands on! Let's make it a big one! "


There was something about this—about sitting out here on the window ledge with his father's shadow looming beside him that made things seem almost normal. "So…" Uh-oh, here we go. "Have you or haven't you?" Even as Tim let his eyes disappear into his cup, he could still see that man's mischievous smirk in the glow of the apartment. He wasn't sure if it was the steam warming his face or the blood running to his cheeks, but when he heard that voice stretching across the communicator, his embarrassment was forgotten. She's not on duty tonight. Swords? Flamethrowers? What the—

"I'm on my way."

"Her?"

"Yeah, and it shouldn't be. Gotta go." He could barely hear his father's warning for caution as he dove off the building and into the darkness. "What's the situation?"

"Five dead assailants."

"Dead?! What the hell is going on!?"

Dad. "Don't get your underwear in a wad, Bats. They don't stay dead and that's the problem! I don't know what these things are! They're deadly, creepy and starting to become a pain in my ass! I know that much!" The moment of silence in her ear only told her one thing—her father was making a trip to the car. It gave her enough time to focus on ducking under the assassin's clawed strikes fending off his blades with the armor plating on her arms. You forgot about his feet. No sooner had the thought raced through her head did she feel a knife catching into the leg of her suit. Blades on the feet too? Her legs came out from under her as her feet were swept off the sidewalk. He's going to dive on you or bend down to stab you. He could use his foot or his hands to do it, what are you going to do? There was only one solution. Kill him. As her attacker lunged, the young bat reacted, latching onto his arms ash she planted both feet as hard as she could into his gut. With a tumble back, his body went sailing into the wall behind her. She was on her feet before it could even collect itself. But even in this darkness she could see that stained yellow light glinting of the blades as he made a move to rise. Only she wasn't about to let that happen.

"Say goodnight!" With the sound of her belligerent cry echoing through the darkness, Batgirl thrust out with her boot, driving that fragile skull into the wall. I killed something…I… She couldn't recognize the form beneath her, even though the smell was all but making her eyes water and her stomach churn, she couldn't stop putting her foot into body at her feet. It was already dead! It can't get back up!

Only when the sound of her ragged breathes filled her ears did the girl peel herself away from the wall. Four. "What the…" She didn't even hear his boots on the pavement.

"They're not alive."

And yet as she watched him crouch down by what was left of the remains, there was something in his face…something doubtful. "Are you absolutely sure?" He asked, lips twitching into a grimace.

"You didn't see what I saw! I snapped his neck! And he still-"

" You snapped his neck?! Oh, that look. Even with the mask she could still see the creases fading around his eyes. She could still see his mouth growing slack.

"I didn't mean to!" But the bat was already letting the teeth of the grappling hook sink into the nearest building. "I don't have time for this! There's more of those things, and they're chasing Sam!" She snapped letting the grappling gun rip her off the sidewalk. He'd never looked at her like that before…like he was disappointed and so unsure. Didn't he believe her? Didn't he trust her? God, shut up, Brain! Shut up! Gotta find Sam!


I'm too fat for this shit! But somehow the need to get away overrode the ache that was crawling up her legs and the cold burn of the air that made the inside of her throat dry. But it didn't stop the scream from tearing its way out of her when she was snatched up from behind. She could scream all she wanted, but it only made her own lips tingle as the sound was muffled into the glove over her lip. The fight to struggle was soon forfeited the moment her captor took to the air. No one in this city would hear her now. And falling from this height? Broken bones would be the least of her worries.

She'd never been so scared and so relieved in her life to hear that strange guttural cry reaching out to them across the rooftops. She didn't even see the boy pounce from the shadows - she saw the glint of his sword. Before she could realize what had splattered across her face, she found herself falling. Not even the feel of someone's arms circling around her could stop the feel of her body smashing into the roof below. Even if she couldn't feel all of it, tumbling end over end she knew one thing—this shit was gonna hurt later. Sam couldn't tell if she was getting glimpses of a colorless sky or if a cape had tangled itself around her in the spill, but as she laid there willing that cold air into her lungs, she could make out the points of those long ears. "You suck…" The girl groaned wincing when her busted lips forgot that smiling might hurt. But as she watched Batgirl stagger to her, Sam could see her words rising in the air in small wisps. "It shorted."

"It's not as heavy as the other one…" The little bat uttered, reaching out to her with only one hand, leaving the other trapped at her side. "But yeah… it's dead. My left arm locked up and then…"

"…We hit the roof." Never had she been so tempted to tell the girl 'I told you so'. But as she worked herself up, she could only feel the knot building in her throat. "I hope you're right handed." Sam whispered, not even bothering to wipe the gravel off her cheek as the bat whipped around. The figures sprang, scattering to the air. They're surrounding us. But just as the thought began to barrel its way through her, they descended. She didn't even see Batgirl creating slack in the line of her grappling gun. But the moment Sam lurched back from a set of snatching hands, Batgirl twisted, sending that cord through the air and around the assailant's neck.

"You're pissing me off!" She couldn't say what made her think of using the grappling gun this way. She couldn't imagine what forced her fingers to pull the trigger knowing just what it would do. The device would try to rewind the line. It would snap his neck like a twig when the coils around his neck tightened. But as that body fell to the ground in a heap, the girl only knew one thing. It wasn't dead. Not yet. Not completely.

"Didn't know you had it in you…Sister." Damian.

There was something about watching this pair that made Samantha Cleary realize just how little she knew. That scream, the way Robin moved flipping and twisting- filling the air with rancid smell of rot and old blood. She wasn't quite sure when her knees gave out, or when someone else swooped in to grab her. But even if she was pressed into the armor of someone's suit, she could still see them pressing their backs together. Watching Batgirl reach around and help herself to her brother's shorter sword it dawned on her—the Wayne children were deadly.


"You know what?" Batgirl asked, wincing as a set of clawed blades scraped down her sword as she held up her good arm to fend them off. "I don't think I'll put you in the pond." She said shoving her attacker back, ducking when Robin twisted to change the direction of his sword. He jabbed the creature right in the chest. "I'd cremate you and put your ashes in the gas tank of the bat-mobile."

"Tch." Turning his head he could see the point of his sister's sword sticking out the back of the opponent he'd left behind to make his move. Strange, he never thought she'd pair with him this well. "I'd mix your ashes with the bat excrement."

Well, at least I made it to the cave. Just as the girl went to pull the sword free, the rooftop filled with plumes of thick black smoke. If she couldn't see them then they couldn't see her. Maybe that's exactly what her father wanted as he hit her from the side and swept into the darkness.


"The little plate inside the locket with the poem comes out. There's a tiny little thing, it looks like a black on and off switch behind it. All you have to do is flip it." Clara couldn't help but pull the chain tight around her neck as she was left there on that pedestal. In the background she could hear that computerized voice echoing over the intercom describing a blonde haired blue eyed child. Me. What could all these white masked faces see? Could they see the fear on her face? Could they see the sweat beading on her hairline? What about the tackiness of her lashes? Could they see that too? With each wave of a paddle, the child could only swallow, listening to the number grow higher and higher. Be a big girl, you have to be a big girl. At the shrill call of a buzzer the girl felt ever muscle in her body go rigid. "Sold: High bid 7 Million." There was something about the desperate amount that made the girl's skin grow cold. Be a big girl. But as the retainers came forward to pull her from the small stage, she couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"Clara you're ruining your pretty face." At the sound of that familiar voice, Clara jerked her head up, blinking through the blur of her tears to stare in the Collector's direction. But he wasn't the one who stepped forward and grabbed her by the chin, tilting her head this way and that in the harsh florescent lights. Another mask. Another green cloak.

"A little banged up. I expected better than that." At the man's words the Collector stepped forward yanking the girl by her face as he tilted the faint bruises to the light.

"We'll compensate for that."

"See that you do." No sooner had the strange new voice touch the air, did she realize that one of the retainers had seized her by the arm. Before the girl could so much as wriggle her way free something hot and sharp jabbed her in the neck. Only when the world began to blur could she see the syringe dangling in those gloved fingers. "Take her to the boat if you please."

"Another one…" At the sound of the soft lamenting voice, Clara could feel the world start to come back to her a little at time. "This is the youngest one yet." Feeling a hand in her hair the child's lungs all but froze as she forced her eyes closed. She thought to panic feeling her body being scooped up, but she could only continue to play possum, letting her head lull on a wide shoulder as the winter wind wrapped around her.

"You've prepared her room?"

"Yes, Sir, just like you asked."

Daring to peer through the sliver of her eye lashes, she could see nothing but a pale blue dusky sky melting into the sea. No towers. No complexes. No neon signs and plumes of ash and smoke, just a dying night and the pale caps of a restless sea. Where am I? Nothing was familiar. Not the warmth of the halls or the strange sound of their voices. "We'll let her rest for a while longer." Laid on a strange bed, the girl strained to listen to the sound of their shoes on the hardwood floor. The moment she heard that door latch behind them, she rolled off the bed, fingers prying at the locket. Just as Sasha said, there was a small black switch.

"Please work. Please." She flicked it, feeling something inside hum to life in her hands. Now all she had to do was wait. But what did she do until then? Sliding to the door the girl reached for the knob, turning it slowly in her hands. It didn't go far. Locked. Moving to the windows, she felt her breath hiss out. Locked. I'm trapped.


"Even their bones were decomposing. That's why their necks snapped so easy."

"God, I can't believe you brought one of them back here." Sam groaned, shoving her stool from her table back to the Del who was perched on a table, flexing the new sleeve of her suit. "Better?"

"Better. So much for just testing it."

"Hey it's been an eventful night. Breaking and entering. Chased by cops. Jumping across buildings. Getting pushed off a building."

"Sorry. Spur of the moment plan. Didn't have time to share."

"Into a dumpster I might add! Played decoy, got chased by creepy assassins. Got picked up by creepy assassins and dropped in midair. Crash landed on another roof." At that the girl crumbled in her stool. "But hey! At least we figured out where the short in your suit was coming from!"

"There is that." Del murmured, watching the girl slide back to the other table. "You sure you're okay."

"Dead cop. Dead assassins. Sword fights." The girl shrugged. "Just way out of my element." She said with a sigh as she leaned on the table. "How in the world did he learn to fight like that? I mean he's ten, right?"

Peeling her eyes from her father's back as he hovered over the strange body, she let her gaze rest on that black haired brother of hers, watching him leap up and strike the strange orbs that zipped around him. "Yeah…he's ten. He was trained by assassins that's why he moves that way. What are those things you made him?"

"Training orbs…they attack and you and you beat the crap out them, I'm trying to see how durable they are—wait…assassins?!" Sam looked from the boy back to Del. "Are you telling me I've been teasing an assassin this entire time?! That he's an assassin?!"

"Why do you think I call him 'Ninja Boy'?"

"That's just great!"

"You're of use to me." Damian said suddenly as his last gray orb floated to the floor. "So you're safe. For now."

"Please tell me he's joking." Sam whined, wincing as the sound of a siren filled the cave, forcing Batman to lift his head from his samples, and sending Damian flying over the platform to get to the computer.

"It's the tracking device I gave Sasha Bowman. She activated it." Watching the boy's fingers fly over the keyboard, she could see him trying pin down the location. But in the stark glow of the monitor, she could see Damian's face souring. "Something's blocking my signal."

She wasn't sure what pulled her from the stool, or for that matter, what gave her the nerve to pull Damian from the keyboard. She could only hear the boy's boots scuffing against the floor as Delilah grabbed her brother back. "You may be good, but she's better."

"Hey, Bats, did you know you had a hitchhiker on your system?" Sam called suddenly, pulling the man closer to the computer with her words. It certainly wasn't Barb. "Signature C-A-S-S?"

"Friendly."

"Yeah. I got that when they started pulling the garbage from the proxy signals for me." As the girl let a map take up the monitor she couldn't help but grin at that glowing beacon. "Bingo. So…what's Sasha Bowman doing in South Carolina?" But as the girl turned about she saw nothing but a billowing cape blazing a path to the Batwing. Without so much as a word, Del followed suit, slipping that cowl over her head once more. Sam half expected the Bat to turn on her and tell her she'd done enough for one night, but he didn't stop her. He didn't stop either of his children.


There was something achingly familiar about this place. In the dying darkness, the giant antebellum house stood out like a beacon along the coastline. I know this place. And the way Batman moved he knew it too. The thought only made her stomach roll. Sasha Bowman was here somewhere.

Following her father's footsteps along the ledge of the second floor she ducked into the faintly lit room without a sound. Watching Beau Devereux jerk upright in his chair slinging his coffee cup and his laptop to the floor, Del found herself stretching her arm out to stop Damian from advancing on him any further. "Son of a bitch!" The man said with a start. "I take it none of you care for the front door like normal people?"

"The girl. Where is she?" Batman snapped, watching Batgirl bend down and retrieve the computer off the floor as his fingers fisted in the man's shirt.

"It's a bidding site…"

"For people! Children! You don't deserve the air you breathe!" But as the boy drew his sword Beau Devereux held up his hands.

"It's not what you think. Just simmer down." He said breathlessly. "I think you need to follow me."

Del wasn't sure what she expected as her father turned the man loose and followed him through the empty halls. Every part of her wanted to linger here, let her eyes rest on the familiar faces on the walls or the curious nooks and corners that seemed to come from memory. But her uncle was stopping at a door, fishing in his pocket for a key. "I've been buying girls from them for years." He said last. "She's the youngest one I've been able to save." Before either man could step across the threshold, Robin darted in first, pausing when he saw a blonde haired little girl sitting in the middle of the bed instead of Sasha Bowman.

"Sasha said you'd come."

"So you lock them in?" Del couldn't believe the words had even come out of her mouth. But the man only sighed, letting those hazel eyes rest on her.

"The very first girl I ever brought here was so panicked that she threw herself out the window in an attempt to free herself. She'll be in a wheel chair for the rest of her life." He said with a shake of his head. "It only stays this way until the drugs they give them for transport wear off and I can explain what's going on."

"Why not go to the police?"

"You think you'd have to do what you do if the GCPD did their jobs?" Not giving the man an answer the girl cut around him, unprepared to see that familiar blonde haired child.

"It's you!"

"Are you hurt? Where's your sister?" At the questioning the child slid from the bed, stilling when she spied another pointy eared shadow standing at the door.

"Sold." The word felt so strange falling off her tongue. "Sasha's locket got taken away and when she told Aiden that Robin had made it into a tracking device for her, Aiden had to…" Watching her pale blue eyes dart to her socked feet, Del was sure she could feel the child swallowing too. "She had to defeat the champion fighter to get it back. Groups come in all the time to buy fighters. They usually wait to buy the champions. I guess they want to make sure they can hold the title. But they didn't wait this time. They bought her right after. I was supposed to turn it on while I was still at Nine Circles, but the Collector threw me to the auction block. I was bought."

"And Sasha?" Robin asked impatiently.

"Still there…" The girl whispered, watching Batgirl crouch down in front of her. "Nothing happened like it was supposed to. I don't…I don't know what to do now." But as the lament all but faded from the air, the child stared down at the girl's open glove.

"Come with me. I think there's someone you need to meet." Even now, she could feel the girl stumbling beside her, as if the drug induced haze hadn't completely faded. Watching her uncle crouch down, she paused. "Clara, this is Beau Devereux. He's the man who—"

"You bought me. Didn't you?"

"I did." He said quietly. "And I'll make a deal with you. I'll help you find your sister, but you have to tell them everything you know about Nine Circles."

Clara looked up at the long eared bat beside her. "You trust him?"

"Strangely enough."

"You're going to tell them everything you know, right?"

"Yes. Now do we have a deal?" He asked, holding out his empty hand.

"Okay…" Watching her small fingers all but disappear in his grip, Batgirl could see the child taking a breath. "You get weird and I'm calling them."

"Fair enough." The man said, pulling himself up. "Why don't we have a seat in the kitchen, I think there's a lot to discuss."


It took some time for the child to unfurl her entire tale, recounting the months since their father's car accident and how Nine Circles had nabbed them right out of the group home they lived in. She left nothing out including how many had died at her sister's hand, and why. Only when Clara had grown comfortable enough to explore the house with the housekeeper, did she leave the bats and bird sitting with Beau Devereux.

"How did you fall into their market?"

Del could see the man's fingers drumming on his half empty coffee cup, biting his lip as he worked his words in his head. "Twelve years ago I got a random e-mail. Had nothing in it but a link to this site…" With that he turned his laptop toward them. But just as she thought the man might continue speaking, his gaze slipped to her. "Your picture was listed on it, Little Bit." Her words were getting stuck in her mouth. Her father's face was slack. "You know this house a little too well." He told the man, turning his gaze back to the masked girl. "And most people don't pay that much attention to other people's photographs. And you're asking about Nine Circles…" He stopped and shrugged.

"You are the Dragon Lady's son." Batman muttered.

"That I am."

"I was bought in advance…that's what—"

"By me. I'm the one who made that bid."


A/N - Ahhh! So much going on. I'll admit it, this chapter drove me crazy. But now you can see what Jason's getting himself into. If you're still wondering about Jack Drake and that promise with Dick, don't worry that get's covered soon and I'll clean up any loose threads as well. It's chapters like these that make me want to stick with the M rating, but maybe I'm paranoid. Lots of Dickybird, Jason and Tim in the next chapter. Like I said lots of layering for things that will also take place in the sequel. Next chapter: Broken Birds Part 3

Update- I know there were a lot of typos in this one. Eeep! I apologize! I'm adjusting them I swear! I rushed this one a bit.