"Dick…I don't know if I can do this." It wasn't the music pulsing under my feet that made my heart feel like it about to break free from my chest. It wasn't the sudden flash of cameras or the shimmer of glitter woven in the leotards around me that made the tips of fingers itch. I could feel my fingers digging into my arms, gripping my jacket to into my skin as a watched the girl sail from the uneven bars, her body twisting and moving through the air before she hit the mat. It was that overwhelming roar of the stands that seemed to erupt the moment she lifted her graceful arms to the air.
I couldn't stop my gaze from sliding to the dead spot in the crowd. The second they say my name…they're gonna wonder where he is. People are gonna wonder why he isn't here. But the second I felt that heavy hand rest on my shoulder the thoughts wandered off, dissipating in the garbling boom of the announcements above our heads.
"Start stretching. I'll be waiting to catch you when you tank." By the time my head snapped around to shoot him a glare, those long lips were already curling. "Or…I'll just stand there and look pretty." My mouth had barely given in to a smile when I found my head lifting to watch a somersaulting body leap from the spring board to the bars. They're all so good… But just as the doubt began to nibble, Dick was tapping me on the cheek. "Just imagine we're at home. Okay?"
"What if—what if I do fall?" I asked, shedding my jacket as the arena filled with applause. But to his credit, Dick just shrugged.
"So what." I was frozen. What the hell did he mean 'so what'? Didn't he know how many people would see me eat mat? Or who those people might be? Didn't he happen to notice all those thick stately W's hanging around the stadium? No pressure. I must've been hesitating. I must've let my eyes cling to that name I saw dangling at every corner because that shadow was crouching down in front of me. "All that matters is that you get back up and you finish your routine. Score or no score. Right?"
"Right." And yet the word seemed so stale in my mouth. From the moment that veil was lifted my cage became glass. Every move I made was under scrutiny. I wasn't just Del anymore. I was Delilah Wayne, the heiress. It was a weight that would follow me everywhere I went. Even here…my first regional competition. I suppose Dad was just trying to be supportive in his own way, but it only made the shadow that much larger.
"You enjoy gymnastics, don't you?" Standing there with his hands weighing on my shoulders I could only see the darkness smudging under his eyes like bruises. Familiar as the marks were, it hit me just how much Dick had sacrificed to make this happen. All the hours spent toting me to my meets, all those nights that his voice rose to match my father's—all the special arrangements he had to make to bend to my father's will. When my father put his foot down, ending the majority of our secret ventures to the gym, Dick stepped in, becoming my coach as well as my cheerleader. It was the only outcome Dad would begrudgingly accept.
I suppose I was lucky that the gym was willing to keep me as an independent study and that I had an acrobat for a brother. Of course he was an acrobat who knew absolutely squat about the ins and outs of competitive gymnastics—but he took his beating with the rulebook gracefully. And he did it…for me.
Only when my head bobbed did his lips move, letting those dark blue eyes slide down on me. "I hope you're doing it for Delilah and no one else." His words had barely faded into the sound of clapping, when I realized yet another competitor was stretching her hands to the sky. It was enough to force my jellied limbs to move from the sidelines to the heat of the lights. I could hear the silence rolling through the stadium as my name reverberated through the walls. No one clapped, but that was alright. I could see my brother's dark head giving me the slightest of nods as he dropped the springboard in place. It didn't matter that my box seats were empty. It didn't matter that my very name laced the air with whispers. I wasn't there for them.
From the moment I sprung off the board I knew—I could do more than survive in the shadow around me. I could thrive. Even with the weight of expectation, I could fly. I might fall…but the man below me would never let me reach the ground.
"We were able to stop the bleeding." The soft words slipping through the crack in the door were enough to peel me from my daze, ripping me from the height of the bars and feel of chalk in the creases of my palms. Unceremoniously dumped back into the reality, I squinted at the burnt orange lines of the tile, trying to make sense of the hum around me. Propped along the wall I realized the ache I felt was my own spine, but I couldn't uncurl myself from the wadded leather coat in my lap. It still smelled like him.
Somehow the thought only brought back the image of that long body convulsing under frantic hands. I didn't even realize I was fighting so hard to get into the room until the doctor lifted his head and shouted for someone to get us out. In times like those my feet would ache to pace the floor and yet somehow I found myself sliding down the wall, swallowing at the air as I begged for the sound of the heart monitor to begin again. Only when that shrill beep slipped from under the door did I sink to the floor, letting loose a collective sigh with the bodies that were grouped around me. Still alive.
I don't quite remember reaching for the phone, or even dialing the number. I just remember counting the rings. One. Two. Silence. Or maybe there was a breath? A start of a Hello? Or What? Maybe Talk. I don't know. I just remember a single word shaking out me. "Daddy?" I couldn't hear the panic in the hospital lobby, or the whine of the sirens. All I could hear was my own swallowing as I listened to the line go still. Almost as if he wasn't quite sure if I used the unspoken code word for trouble—but then…
"Where are you?"
"Gotham Memorial." The words were falling out of me so fast I don't even know how he kept them straight. "It's Dick. His drink was laced." Just like that the phone clicked in my ear. Dad was on his way—and yet that foreboding weight that pulled me to the floor, kept me there long after he arrived.
"Had it not been for all the bags of ice the kids packed around him to keep his temperature down, he may not have made it here at all." I could hear Damian's hissing scoff beside me. He and I both knew the convenience store clerk had some choice words for us…until he saw Dick bleeding out on the sidewalk. Tim's quick thinking, really. You froze. Pressing my cheek into my knees I could only strain to listen through the cracked door "But the venom-we've never seen anything like it. It's spreading faster than we can handle."
"I was under the impression that ingesting venom was harmless, how did it get into his bloodstream?"
"Normally ingesting something like that wouldn't cause an issue. But anyone who may have an internal tear or in Mr. Grayson's case, an ulcer, has a chance of it getting in the bloodstream. I'm sorry to say he's not the only case we've had." Marley Glozman. No wonder she felt like she was burning from the inside out.
"Hey, is it safe to go in yet?" Hearing that familiar voice echo down the hall, I worked myself to my feet as Barbra wheeled herself toward us. Dad must've called her…
"I don't know. Mr. Wayne hasn't even come out yet." Sam uttered. Staring at the two of them, I could only see the likeness in their faces. Why couldn't I see that before?
"You can go in. It's just the rest of us who are in exile." I grumbled, blowing out a breath when she reached over and gave my hand a squeeze, squashing Dick's coat beneath our palms.
"Damn Birdbrain." But even as that thin smile touched her lips, I could see nothing but that dead space floating just behind her glasses. Love him or hate him. She didn't want to lose him either.
"So what's this crap about you making Barb cry?" Dick's water bottle never made it to his mouth. It just paused there in the air.
"Where did you hear that?" He asked, watching me stretch my fingers in my grips as I smeared them with chalk. "Delilah…"
"Sam." I said simply, shrugging as I darted for the low bar, aware that my big brother was inspecting my every move. "Oh, c'mon." I groaned, watching his shoulders slip into a shrug. "We both know that's where you've been spending your time." In the meantime he was driving Sam up a wall. Changing the settings on her monitors, using her keyboards with his buttery fingers, eating her cereal and leaving the boxes behind—those were the kind of things that made a person crazy, but they didn't warrant strangulation. Except for making Barb cry. Sam had a problem with that. Hell, I had a problem with that. Barbra didn't cry easily. "So what did you do this time?" I asked, swaying on the bar.
"It's not what you think." He protested, crossing his arms as he his gaze moved from my hands to my face. "It's nothing I did."
"Enlighten me then."
"Er…no. No way. Now, are you done goofing around?"
"Aw, why not?" I cried, watching my own shadow stretch along the mat below me as I lifted myself in the air.
"Because you'll blab to Sam! That's why!" He shot back. I was only teasing, but Dick? It wasn't like this was the first time he ever snapped at me, but it still made my flesh prickle.
"Gee, thanks for trusting me, Bro." I sneered, ignoring the snap of his head as swung to the high bar. Even with the bar's rattling I could hear his sigh hissing from his lips.
"It would kill Babs." He said, paying no mind to me as the words had me dropping to the mat. "You so much as breathe a word—"
"You know me better than that." I didn't mean to be indignant or so terse, but it was enough to make those dark blue eyes go narrow. "You're not the only one who cares about Barb. Stop glaring at me like that. It makes your eyes look small." I could feign indifference to his sudden solemnity, but let's be honest—I've never been comfortable with his somberness. Dad? Normal. Dick? Not so much.
"Not a word. You understand?"
"Yeah-"
"No, Del. I want to hear you say it." Something about those words made my pulse race. I waited a moment hoping to see a hint of that goofy smile, a wink or the making of one of his lazy shrugs. But the shadows only seemed to deepen the creases in his face.
"I promise." Only then did he pry that hard gaze from me, his shoulders rolling as he shuffled to shut the open doors…but not before I saw his head tilt down the hall. Something was wrong. "Dick?" But he just stood there with his hands resting on the doorknobs.
"When Sam needed her transplants Bab's had a test done to see if they were a match. They weren't." He started, twisting away from the door. "But when she got the full analysis in the mail…she noticed something that didn't make sense to her." Easing to the mat I reached out and gave the thing a pat. Dick moved closer but he didn't sit down, I'm not sure his nerves would let him. "So Babs ran her own tests. Sam's not her cousin, Del." He said reaching up to squeeze the back of his neck. "Sam's her little sister."
"Wait! What?! You're kidding right?!"
"Gordon confirmed it when she confronted him with it. Tore them both up. Evelyn Gordon gave birth to a little girl when she was seventeen. And because she was still a baby herself, her big brother and his wife adopted the child as their own. That way Evelyn could still be a part of her daughter's life and have the freedom to finish growing up."
"Whoa."
"Yeah. And when Bab's went to talk to Evelyn about it—she flipped her lid. That's two mother figures that've cut her off at the knees." Barb…is Sam's sister? Letting the weight of his words sink in, I let myself flop back on the mat, watching him hesitate before he sank down across from me. "That's why she was crying."
"Poor Barb. I mean it kinda explains why Mrs. Gordon could walk away from her so easily after her divorce." Up to this point I could never wrap my brain around the idea of a mother cutting all ties with her child—I still don't know how the woman could've raised her as her own and not form some kind of attachment after all that time. "But Evelyn's always been so supportive of Barb I don't understand…I mean she made her family move here because she wanted to be closer to her."
Evelyn Cleary came dangerously close to losing her oldest child, no wonder she wanted to be closer to Barbra. But then…why would she shut her down like that? Why not come clean? What changed?
"I don't know what Sam's told you, but her mother hasn't been herself lately." Dick said quietly. "I think this splitting up business is really screwing with things, and that's why Bab's doesn't want Sam to know. That's too much at once. Now do you understand why you can't breathe a word?"
We've got another one!" I don't know if it was pure curiosity or just habit that made me watch the scrubs build up around the gurney that had burst through the door. "There's more on the way."
"More? How many more?!"
"Too many. We don't have the capacity for them all. We have to split them with Gotham General the best we can. May have to make a call to Metropolis. People are dropping like flies." I couldn't keep my eyes on the slack faces around me. All I could concentrate on was the whirring of wheels and the trail of blood stretching down the hall. People are going to die if we don't do something.
"Del?" At the sound of my name falling from Tim's mouth, I peeled my eyes from winding red stain on the floor. "You dropped something." I didn't hesitate to swipe the wad keys off the floor, squeezing the things until the teeth began to bite into my palms. They felt as cold as ice in my hand. Cold…the cold was keeping him alive. It was as if my legs were unfurling themselves, urging me forward before I could change my mind. "Cold." You know who to see.
"Del?"
I couldn't even answer Sam's uncertain voice as I stared down at the keys in my hand. Dick's bike keys are on here, and the apartment isn't far. But as the thoughts were all but racing through my head, I could see Tim sliding from the wall, his brow furrowing. Damian was pulling his headphones from his ears. Would they try to stop me? I don't have the time to find out. Dick doesn't have that kind of time.
"A deal's a deal, Dickybird." I fucking hate Arkham, but he'd do it for me. Letting that heavy coat swallow me whole, I could see Damian rising from his chair. "If Dad asks, I'll be right back." Not that I thought he would, it'd be a while before he even knew I was gone.
"Just what do you intend to do?"
"Keep my promise." One of my birds was falling; I couldn't let him reach the ground.
This isn't something Batgirl can do. But the simple thought offered little solace in the darkness of Arkham's catwalk. It's not the dark you're afraid of. And yet, the girl found her gaze latching onto the pools dingy light scattered out before them. No, surely it wasn't the darkness, not with so many voices swirling around her. Peeking through the grates at her feet, she could see a flash of that bright orange fabric and those black stained letters. The sight was enough to make her lungs clutch at the air. Did she trust these riot shields to keep her safe? No, not if someone got a wild hair up their ass. An heiress would make a perfect hostage. And then I'll be up shit creek. "Nearly there, Miss…" It wasn't like she had time to wait for the block to be put on lockdown.
With the officer's words reaching through the chaos, Del let the air in her lungs hiss from her lips, growing still as they pushed a curious onlooker to the side. Only when his voice slithered to her ear did the teen pause there on the catwalk, stalling the guards behind her as the chills crept up her spine. "Well now, Girly. Haven't come to see me have you?" The smell of stale cigarettes and sweat reached her before she could make out the gangly shape. Sure enough, there was the glow of a cherry blurring in the plexiglass. She didn't have to see the man to imagine that broken toothed smile on St. James' face.
He wants a response. Hell, he just wanted to see her squirm. "Can we keep going please? I don't have time for this." But only the next sound stilled her determined feet.
"Look who we have here! Delilah Wayne! Tell me Sweetie, does your daddy know where you are?" Nothing made the flesh on her arms rise quite like the sudden hush that rolled through the dayroom like a wave. It was the kind of silence that made her knees beg to tremble as her every step echoed through the rusted place making the tension so palpable she could've choked on it. You're almost to the lab. But as the girl eyed the double doors that seemed so far away, something else stepped in front of those clear shields.
"Stand back!" The bark of a command only seemed to summon a raw sort of laughter from the small group that cut across their path.
"You do realize, Sarge, that there are more of us than you, right? Simple math." She wasn't sure who had thrown her against the wall in the midst of the rush to close ranks. But in the middle of willing the breath back in her lungs, she could hear that creep's voice in the rising confusion. "Someone out there really doesn't like you, Girly." The overwhelming smell of blood reached her long before that uniformed body in front of her staggered, back, knocking Del to the floor. Shit! We're being overrun!
It was only out of instinct that her long fingers pressed into the guard's neck, but as St. James' boot came down, pressing the shield and his sole into the man's chest, the blood on seemed to squeeze through the cracks in her fingers. "I mean…really doesn't like you." The flash of metal had barley caught her eye before she the familiar roll of blood touched her cheek. The shiv in his hand was definitely sharp enough. "It's kinda got me in a dilemma. The boys here want to keep you alive." He murmured paying no mind to the gurgling man underfoot. "But someone else wants you dead." The words left him like a sigh, and yet the point of that razor blade never left her. "See what I mean?"
"Sounds like a personal problem." The blade bobbed against her throat, sending that itchy trickle down her shirt. I don't have anything on me except… Only the sound of a slow clap seemed to make the one eyed man turn his head—and the girl squeeze harder on the ball of keys in her pocket.
"A smart ass to the end, Eh, Toots?" No sooner had that familiar voice crushed the sudden hum, did Del catch a hand curling around St. James' shoulder. "No one makes a move around here unless I say so, you got it, Bub?" The threat however only made that razor dig harder into Del's skin.
"I don't answer to you, you freak-"
The muscle's in her arm all but shook, forcing her to grip the keys until they tore into her fingers. The man's sudden shriek made her rip her arm back, the keys peeking through her fingers tipped with blood. "I warned you, you son of a bitch!" But St. James only crashed to his knees, blood oozing between his fingers as he clutched at his eye. It was strange how well his shrieking could meld into that maddened laugh.
Just as quick as the laugh died, did those alabaster hands grip into St. James' chest. There wasn't even enough space to for him to scream before he went over the railing, making a thump somewhere on the floor below. Smacking his hands together, the clown's thick red lips curled to the apples of his cheeks. "Whoops!" Del couldn't hear anything beyond her own pulse as the clown finally turned to her. "Couldn't let you have all the fun." He said, giving a wide shrug before turning about and heading for the stairs as if he were on nothing more than a leisurely stroll. "Hell, I don't like you." With that he waved his hand in the air, signaling the inmates to release their captive jailers. "But you made me laugh. Today's you're lucky day, Toots. We'll have to play again sometime."
Del wasn't sure if it was the chill of the laboratory that made her muscles shiver so hard or if the adrenaline wasn't quite through with her. Pulling Dick's coat closer around her, her fingers only stuck together as the blood between her fingers began to dry. What the fuck just happened? He had a chance to kill me... Come to think of it, only the officer that St. James stabbed in the neck was badly injured. St. James was on that list too. But now? Now he'd see nothing but darkness. Strange how satisfying that could be.
"Do make sure you don't touch anything." With that deep request echoing through the sterile space, Del could only force herself to nod, shoving the thoughts away with a single clouded breath. That's right, you're here for a reason. The words didn't make her want to leave the doorway, instead she froze there, the bloody patch of her jeans all but sticking to her skin as she eyed the back of Dr. Fries' head. "Now, what could you possibly want from me?" The pale man asked, setting those garnet lenses on her. As quick as he lifted his gaze he let it slide again.
"People are dying-"
"People die every day, Miss Wayne. It's of little consequence to me."
Her limbs all but jolted forward, half itching with panic and half numb in her own boots. You have cards to play, Del, and he knows what they are. "I need your help." Del said simply, trying to ignore dull ache in her ears or that disinterested flick of his gaze. "You know about the tampering cases, don't you?"
His hands stilled a moment, pausing with the vials in the air. "Surely you don't intend to bore me with something I can hear about on the nightly news—"
"The contaminated bottles are also laced with venom." The words were falling out of her so fast that she was clouding the air around her. "We don't have an anti-venom for it and if continues to spread—" Dick will die. Forcing herself to pause long enough to swallow, she could see Dr. Fries twisting toward her. Oh, he knew an emotional weakness when he heard it. "There has to be some way to stop it until an anti-venom can be made. Even if it means putting them in a type of cryonic sleep." Now he was facing her completely. "You're the only one I know with skill to make that happen." If anyone one could do it, it was the madman that the papers had dubbed 'Mr. Freeze.' The very man who was staring at her now, half smiling as if he knew what was coming.
"And just what would I get for being the savior of these wretches—"
"Nora." The word shot out of her before she could take it back, making that smile seem to glow as it spread across his face. "I'll arrange a visit." It was hard to imagine that the man before her had once been a promising scientist. Victor Fries was a man who devoted his entire career to the study of cryogenics— a man who still obsessed over one of Wayne Enterprises' best kept secrets. Nora Fields.
"Oh? You know about my wife do you?" Wife. Forcing her nails into her palms, Delilah nodded, trying to pay no attention to the tremble that rolled down her spine. "You Waynes must parade her around like some circus act!"
"Actually…the only reason I know about her…is because I found her on accident." To be honest, it bothered her that there was a woman from 1943 in a frozen sleep deep within Wayne Tower. At the age of twenty three, Nora Fields was diagnosed with an incurable heart condition. With a full life ahead of her, her family placed her in a cryonic sleep in hopes a cure could be found in the future. It would be years before Dr. Victor Fries would become a researcher at Wayne enterprises. "I know you wrote your thesis on her." The girl uttered, feeling her own pulse pounding through her fingers. "I've read it."
With the weight of his vehement words still hanging in the air, the lines in his face softened letting his lips begin to curl. "As I recall you've got a heart condition of your own. Hits close to home, doesn't it Miss Wayne? I bet your father's kicking himself now, isn't he?"
I also know she became an obsession and that you became delusional. In his mind, he was in love with a woman he'd never met, married to her even! A woman who was old enough to be his own grandmother! It wasn't any wonder why her father pulled the plug on the project.
Victor Fries was so enraptured by his delusions, that when the project was scrapped he attacked her father, causing an accident with chemicals that would render him unable to live without subzero temperatures or the use of a cryogenic suit. She wasn't sure how many times the man had tried to infiltrate Wayne Enterprises to retrieve his beloved Nora. She only knew about the unease that filled her as she stood before the man now.
I had nightmares about being frozen alive. If Dad had any regrets, it was that I found her at all. "Can you help?" She asked at last. If demented glee had a particular look, this albino thing was wearing it.
"You'll owe me." The words all but purred out of him, forcing the hair on the back of her neck to rise.
She couldn't stop the word. How could she when Dick's life was hanging in the balance? How many others would follow him? "Yes." Extending her hand, she let his cold palm press into her own. You're making a deal with the Devil, Del. If it kept Dick alive, so be it.
Those charms—he'd know that sound anywhere. The bat and bird were battling again, smacking together with every determined step that hardheaded child of his took. When had his chiding about her unabashed support become so ineffective? "I'm sure you're partly to blame." With his elbows digging into his knees, he closed his eyes, listening to the sound of clanking metal as it resonated through the halls. "So am I…" Did she really think he wouldn't notice she was gone?
"Del? What the hell..." Bruce Wayne was still peeling the heavy weight of his head from his hands when the door gave, shedding light across the floor and filling the room with the musical tinkling of charms.
"I thought I told you to wait out—" One look at the pale shaking wraith who was easing her way into that dim room and he found himself shooting up from his chair. Was that blood on her face? But then there was something else wasn't there? Something she was clutching to her chest with all her might. Wait, I know that canister. The dread hit him in like a wave, forcing him to snatch her by the front of the jacket that was all but swallowing her whole. "What did you do?!"
Her eyes were wide, but her arms only tightened on the can as he yanked her toward the window, shedding that faint light on the blood that had long since dried on her face. The cuts weren't deep. It was a relief, but a small one. "You went to Arkham. Didn't you? Didn't you?!"
"Dad…" He wasn't sure if it was a croak or a whisper slipping out of her. "The door's open." And there were little gawking shadows building up around the hall. Giving a ragged hiss, he released her with a shove. Squinting into the light of the hall he could see those grimacing faces. "And you let her go?!" He snapped watching Tim and Sam trade looks.
"She didn't say where she was going."
"You and you. In here now." Only when Tim pulled himself from his chair and Damian darted in from the side of the door did he point at Sam. "And you-" He could see Barbra's careful gaze lifting from her coffee cup.
"Hey, I'll yell at that one when I feel damn good and ready to." With her even words the door slammed shut.
"Man, he's pissed."
"Ya think?"
"I didn't even do anything."
"Yet. You're related to me, remember?"
His fingers are turning black. Against Dick's weathered hand her own hand still seemed so small. No less callused, or lacking of scars, but thin and small none the less. It was strange for his fingers to hang so stiffly in her own. Any moment now, any moment they'd flex around hers, like they always did when she was little. But the monitor just continued to beat out behind her and his hand just sat there, limp against hers.
She didn't have to hear his footsteps to know he was there. His shadow seemed to blacken out what little light the night had given. Had it been that long? "I had to." She whispered, trying not to wither when she finally met his gaze.
"How many times?! How many times have we discussed this?! Don't you shrug those shoulders at me, Young Lady!"
"I had to do it! I promised him! I promised him, Dad!" She roared back, feeling her knee smack together as she rooted herself there by Dick's bed. "You of all people should know what it's like to keep a promise." She added, her voice softer now.
"Not at the expense of your own safety! Think! Think with your head!"
"Assuming she has one."
"Shut up, Damian!"
"Kinda creepy how they do that in unison."
"Oh, shut it, Drake."
"He'd do it for me." Del said bitterly, ignoring the pair altogether as she finally let her eyes settle on her father. Not the floor. Not her hands. Not this time. "Yes, it was stupid! Yes, it was risky! I'd do it again if it keeps him alive!" She snapped, smacking his hand away when he reached for her. "Did you notice his hands were turning black, Dad?!" She asked as she lifted Dick's hand toward him. The venom was slowly eating away at his flesh. "We don't have the time to wait. That's why I went to Freeze." She murmured, letting her father peel Dick's hand away from her so he could turn it over in the light. "He gave me enough serum to put any patients affected by the venom in a light cryonic sleep. It should at least slow down the spreading long enough to find a working anti-venom."
"But there's not a way to bring them out of the state—not safely."
"Maybe not for someone as heavily sedated as Nora. He said it was a light state. The venom might still spread, but it should slow it down considerably." She uttered, aware that her father had yet to release Dick's hand. "It's just…"
"Buying time." The man put in. "What did he want?"
"What he always wants. But I told him I'd only arrange a visit if the serum actually worked." Beside her, her father was blowing out a steady breath. It didn't matter if he had to have Nora moved or Freeze. It'd be a mess either way.
"There's…one more thing." The girl said slowly, her fingers locking together in front of her. "We might get billed for someone else's medical expenses."
"By we, you mean me." The man grumbled, sighing at the ceiling before he tilted his head at the girl. "But go on."
"I kinda stabbed Nick St. James in the eye." She said hesitantly, trying to look anywhere in the room but at him. "He's blind." But just as he felt his mouth falling open she turned toward him. "I mean, I did warn the bastard that I'd take the other eye if he ever came at me." With that she simply shrugged.
"So you're telling me he did this?" Her father asked, reaching out and snagging the girl by the chin to eye the cuts again. "And Arkham wants to bill me for it?"
"Yeah…pretty much. Never mind that it almost turned into a hostage situation."
"Cold day in Hell—Excuse me?"
"Or…that the Joker pretty much put a stop to it by throwing him off the catwalk—still can't wrap my brain around that one. Yay for power struggles in the cell block?" She squeaked, watching the man before her shake his head and point to the door.
"Home. Now. I-I can't even yell at you right now. Home. Damian, you too."
"What?! No way!"
"You and Del are homebound. Deal with it. Tim, I need you to keep an eye on Dick. No visitors. Anyone brings up his name, I want know who."
"Yes, Sir."
"What about Patrol?!"
"And the serum?"
"I'll see to the serum myself. No patrol. Not for any of you."
"Dad-"
"We'll discuss you're punishment later, but for now, consider yourself banned." He added throwing the door open.
"You're going out there aren't you?"
"Home. Now. At least I'll know that you're—" But then the man stopped himself, his lips thinning as he pressed them together. "Just go home and stay there. Alfred's already out front."
What else…can I do? Sinking into the shadows of her room should've filled her with solace. But then…he was there on every wall with that shit eating grin. Dick covered in mud with the ATVs they'd gotten stuck. Dick out cold in one of her pillow forts. Dick and Elinor the Elephant at Haly's Circus. He was everywhere. Squashing her in her in his arms, bouquet, medal, glitter shedding leotard—like any of that mattered.
"Jerk Face." She whispered, letting the nearest frame settle back on the shelf before she flopped back on the bed, squashing pillows, sleeping dogs and boxes all at once. Wait—boxes? Scrambling from the bed, Del yanked on the light switch, ignoring the Doberman's grumblings as she wrenched the plain white box out from under him. To Squirt. From: Some really awesome guy you happen to know. No, not Alfred. Damn him! He wasn't even here and he'd managed to make her smile even if it was only to herself.
Prying the lid away she found another note setting on neatly folded leotard. You'll do great. PS. As long as you don't break your neck. "Pfft. Not gonna." She said, letting the note float down beside her as she gingerly plucked the black fabric from the box. Somehow the swirling feathers only made her lips ache. Night wing blue. She could feel the mattress giving as Jax slid from the bed, his nails tapping along the floor as he gave a lazy stretch, but her eyes were stuck on the leotard.
"If you start blubbering now—" Damian.
"Just go away…" She groaned, letting the one-piece settle back in the box. But the boy didn't so much as budge. He just leaned there by the door with her dog rolling at his feet.
"It's just Grayson." Why? Why did his words rub her raw? Before she could think, her fingers grasped for the first thing they could find. To her chagrin the boy only stepped out of the way, letting her mother's journal smack against the wall and slide to the floor. "Your aim's still shoddy." He commented, watching the color rise in her cheeks.
"OUT!" But the command only seemed to roll down his back as Damian bent down to inspect the book at his feet. "GET OUT!" The second he rose from his haunches with her mother's journal in his hands, she found herself flying off the bed until his words froze her in place.
"What's this?" There peeking out of the seam of the leather cover was something silver. Like…a disc? Snatching the book from his hands, Del could feel the air becoming trapped in her lungs as she darted for her desk, ripping open drawers and slinging contents across the floor as she dug for something sharp. Never mind that Damian had yanked the journal away from her to slice the seam open further with a pocket knife of his own. "It's almost painful to watch you struggle." He grumbled, ever aware that his sister's hands were all but trembling when she lifted the disc from his nimble fingers. "I should put you out of your misery." He added. "So…what is it?"
"I don't know." Why would Mom hide a disc in her journal? But then…why does anyone hide anything so carefully? Without a word she shot from her desk and was out the door, certain that there was a boy and a traitorous dog just behind her. The cave's locked so how… "Alfred!" She was still leaping down the stairs when the old man peeked around the kitchen door, eyebrows raised, and mouth grim. "Alfred, I need your help." She panted, all but skidding to a stop before the man. "I need you to open the cave."
"Oh, no. We're not playing that game, Miss Wayne." He said tersely turning back to the screaming teapot without so much as a second look. But then there she was all but snatching the teapot away from him, slinging hot water across the floor as she shoved an unassuming disc at him.
"It's Mom's." The words were all but cracking, forcing the man to pause there. "It's Mom's, Alfred. It was hidden inside the cover of her journal. She wouldn't want just anyone to see it. Not if she went through all the trouble of hiding it there. Please, I have to know what's on it."
God, the girl was all but shaking right before his eyes. Taking the disc from her with careful hands, he sighed. "Just the disc. Nothing more."
"Yes!" Realizing the teapot was still hanging in her fingers, Del hurriedly shoved it back on the stove. "S-Sorry about the mess. I'll clean it up." She stammered. Half watching him mosey to the elevator shaft as she swiped a kitchen towel off the stove handle.
"See that you set a fresh pot."
"Okay! Earl Grey?"
"That'll do. One sugar. Perhaps some lemon."
"Okay."
"And I'll need my glasses if you don't mind. They're on my desk."
"Why not just demand and neck massage and hot towel while you're at it, Pennyworth?"
"What do you know, Master Damian? You may have some good ideas after all."
"Alfred!" Through the soft whine of the elevator she could hear the old man loosen a breath.
"Can't blame and old man for trying now can you?"
"If I didn't know any better, Alfred, I'd say you were trolling me." Del called, letting her voice ring out over the soft chatter of bats and hiss of the water that was spilling into the cave. She eased down the steps, the sound of rattling teacups in her wake. Or was that her hands shaking again?
Setting the tray next to the old man, she patted her clammy hands off on her jeans watching the black screen before them fill the cave with a glow- a pale green glow. There had to be dozens of folders with shorthanded names. But upon his attempt to open one, the old butler was met with a login screen. "Only three attempts." Alfred said, giving the girl a tilt of his head before his fingers moved carefully across the keyboard. Error. Attempts 2. "Well, it's certainly not your name. Any suggestions?"
"What happens if we use all the attempts?"
"I'm not for certain, but I have a feeling we won't like the answer."
"Don't touch anything. I have an idea." Del murmured, watching Damian press in closer as she pried her phone from her pocket. "C'mon Sam. C'mon."
"What up, Home Slice?"
"Hey, are you free to talk? I need that brain of yours."
"Geez, No, Jordan." Jordan? Dad's there. "Look, we found a disc in my mother's journal. It's password protected but there's a set number of login attempts. Is there any way you can crack it?"
With a sigh blowing in her ear, she could hear the girl's chair squeaking. "Alright, alright, hold on a second, let me look. You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" In the garbled silence of the phone, Del could hear nothing but her own heart pulsing in her ears. The second she heard a door click, Sam blew out another breath. "Sorry, he was right freaking there. Let me see if I can hop on my computer and route the Bat-computer in. That way I can make my own copy of the data and attempt the logins myself without using what's left of yours."
"What's he doing there?"
"Other than hovering? He's got Barb looking up every venom case known to man. Hospital records, accident reports, death records-you name it. I'm sure he could do it himself but let's face it, she's faster. Okay. I'm in."
Watching Alfred jump as the screen began to change on its own accord, Del let her finger's curl into the man's shoulder, biting her lip to keep from laughing at him. "It's just Sam, Alfred."
"She's controlling the bat-computer?"
"More like I'm piggybacking from Barb's access point. I mean…she's O after all. Alrighty. I've got my own copy. I'll just snap the disc and clean out my hard drive when I'm done. I'm sure your mom didn't want multiple copies floating around." With that a low whistle echoed out of the phone. "That's a lot of folders. VNM could stand for venom."
"Yeah but the second you click on it—"
"You get the dialogue box." Letting her phone settle by the keyboard, Del sank to her haunches, listening to the furious clacking of Sam's keyboard. "Hey, there's a hint."
"What?"
"I mean…it's not visible. But there's a hint encrypted into the data itself. I don't know if your mom was total computer geek or not…but she wasn't messing around. Got any clue what 'More than' could mean?"
"What kind of hint is that?!" Damian snapped.
"I-I don't know. That could mean anything."
"Let me see if I can worm my way in anyway." But then just as the sound of typing reverberated through the phone, so did the sound of slamming fists on a desk top. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Aw, that's just fucking lovely! Whatever you do, don't use up the logins. The second it hit zero it wiped my computer! I don't know what's on here, but if your mom put this together…she went great lengths to protect it."
"Crap, Sam, I'm sorry. I'll make sure to replace your computer."
"Now I just want to know what's on it. I've got an older model around here somewhere so I'll give it another shot. If I learn anything new, I'll let you know."
Swiping to hang up the call, Samantha Cleary peeled her glasses from her face, blurring the black screen and bright white code as she pressed her fingers into her eyelids. "Crazy. Just…crazy." Bending down to the tower she could feel her lungs catching as she waited for the disc to spit out-until she caught something moving behind her. With a jolt of fear traveling up her spine, the crown of her head quickly met the underside of the desk, forcing her to drop the disc as her hands automatically shot up to rub the spot. "God—mother-fucking bless—ow. Where'd it go?!" But no sooner had the girl straightened herself out did she find that long eared shape standing just beyond her chair. The disc was sitting safely in the Bat's gloved fingers.
"Start talking."
"And just how the heck did you-"
"You over did it. Home Slice."
"There's hundreds of anagrams for 'More Than'."
"Knowing your mother, she'd only use those that actually made sense."
"But that's assuming she even used one. We could be wasting our time." Del groaned, leaning her head back. From here, the ceiling of the cave seemed move and tremble to the pulse of beating wings and shrill screams. The bats are returning, the sun will be up soon. It wouldn't be long before Batman himself made an appearance. "Would Dad know?"
Alfred seemed to crumble into his chair before returning to nurse the cup in his grip. "It's entirely possible. I'd imagine there was very little your mother didn't share with him." He murmured, tilting his head to the familiar hum of boosters. "And now you can go straight to the source." He added, watching the teen stiffen as the cab hissed open.
"What is she doing in here, Alfred? I made myself very clear—"
"Well, there was a disc you see, and considering it came out of Miss Paige's journal…" But the man simply stormed toward the computer and ripped her chair around.
"Get the cloth out of your ears and the led out of your ass. If you're not up those stairs in two seconds I'm putting you on the first flight out."
"But-"
"One."
"What does 'More than' mean?! If she'd tell anyone, it'd be you! I just wanna know! I want to know what's on that disc! I want to know why Mom went through so much trouble to hide it! To protect it! Why'd she do that?! Why'd she do that, Dad?!" She hadn't meant for her voice to rise so high that it cracked. She hadn't meant for the words to make the back of her throat ache. There's so much about her…that I don't know. That I'll never know. Looking at the bat before her now she found herself hoping that maybe some kind of answer would come out of him. But those eyes only seemed to narrow at her.
"I don't know! I don't know what it means! I don't know what she was thinking, I don't know why she didn't come to me if it was that damn important! I. Don't. Know. I do know that I can't keep my eye on my reckless daughter while my oldest son is clinging to life. Dick's not here and I don't have time to babysit you so you can play Batgirl. Move it."
The tension was as thick as the humidity of the cave, but the girl slid from the chair without so much as a word. With the soft click of a dog's claws at her back she moved for the stairs, aware of the three sets of eyes that were watching her every move. When she paused for the briefest of seconds, she could almost imagine her father jumping to action. "What I did today? Batgirl didn't do that. So it really doesn't matter if I ever become her again or not, now does it? Pull the plug on her if you want. Even if she's gone, I'm still here."
Listening to the door latch shut behind her, Alfred let his chest collapse, half watching the Bat sink into the chair his daughter had so recently vacated. "I've never heard such a load of tripe come out of your mouth before." He said hoarsely as he eased himself up from his chair.
"Don't you start—"
"At times like these I miss Paige. She'd tell you when you're being a royal horse's ass."
"Well she's not—so I suggest you get over it."
"You first, Master Bruce! If you're going to be mad at the woman for holding back on you, then fine! But don't you dare take it out on that girl! Or did you forget that she's your child too?! For fuck's sake, Man! It's not her fault that Master Dick—"
"Alfred!" From behind the Caped Crusader, Alfred could see Damian's almond shaped eyes going wide as the man shot up from his chair. But the old butler simply held his ground. "She's going to get herself killed! She's not thinking with her head!"
There's something to be said about an old man with enough gall to put his bony finger into Batman's chest plate, but Damian couldn't think of a single word. He just sat there and blinked. "Oh and I suppose it's not emotional for you either? What are you really upset about Master Bruce? That your daughter thought of something you didn't?" At that the man gave a dry sort of laugh. " Or is it perhaps that she's always favored Master Dick? Of course she did, you bonehead! Did you ever stop to imagine how lonely her life would have been without him?! No wonder she reacted the way she did! " He shouted, stopping to rub his wrinkled hand over his mouth as if it were dry as sand.
"I'm not saying you don't care for him just as much. I'm not saying you don't consider him your son and that you wouldn't move this very earth for him. All I'm saying is, Delilah let's her heart lead her. Maybe that is troublesome. And as a parent, you have every right to fear the outcome. God knows you've done everything to protect her. But letting your heart take the lead isn't a crime." He said, lifting the empty tray and heading for the stairs. "Every one of your children has disobeyed you at some point. She's a teenager. It's what they do. Surely you know that by now. Maybe she challenges you more than the others, but did you ever ask yourself why that is?" With that the man just continued up the stairs. "I think I've given you enough to ponder on. I shall call Master Tim to check on Master Dick's progress."
"Tell me…if anything changed."
"Of course, Sir."
"Miss Wayne. Miss Wayne, please." He could here Alfred's droning plea long before he could see him. The sound of slippers scuffing the floor only seemed to precede the sound of small bare feet dancing around the hall.
"No! No! No! No!" The high pitched cracks of a sob all but yanked him up the stairs. It was the same sound he could imagine that had Dick ripping open his bedroom door, shedding lamplight across the floor. "Just go! Just go away. Please. Please, please!"
"Child, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."
Finally letting his eyes settle on the shapes just out of his reach, he could see Alfred's sigh rolling through him as the tiny thing in the nightgown began to back away, hair wild and face wet.
"What's going on here?" Surely the boom of his voice would resolve this issue. But the muscles in her small back only seemed to go rigid before she whirled on her heel. The second she noticed him there, that thick bottom lip started to quiver—and everything in him seemed to drop to his feet. One step up and she backed herself into the wall, eyes wide and shimmering like the big fat drops that were dripping down her cheeks. "Delilah?" His own child was cowering in his shadow, shaking so hard he could see the muscles rippling in her shoulders.
"Nooo…" He didn't know she was capable of making such a sound. "Don't freeze me. Don't freeze me, Daddy, please! You'll die!" She cried, recoiling from his outstretched fingers. "I don't want you to die." With those words the unshed sobs burst, prying Richard Grayson from the doorway. Watching her so willingly fold into his arms, Bruce let his own fall from the air as he rose to his feet, trying to ignore the sting as the child's sobs were squashed into Dick's shirt.
"Hey, hey it's okay, no one's being frozen." He whispered, his wide hand smoothing her hair down as the weeping echoed through the Manor. "What in the hell is she talking about?"
Standing there so limply, Bruce tore his eyes away. "She found Nora today." He offered, trying to ignore the sudden thought of her peering up at that ageless face. At his voice the girl's head tilted, letting a sliver of those pale eyes glance his direction.
"My heart's fine." She moaned. "It's still good! I promise!"
"Del…"
"Everyone would be dead by the time someone would let me out!" she cried. "I don't want anyone to die! I don't wanna be by myself!"
"It was just a dream, Squirt. You really think he'd do that to you?" Dick asked, paying no mind to the tears she was wiping off on his shoulder. "He wouldn't do that to you in a million years. You think I'd actually let him do something like that?" With that he lifted her chin. "No way. "
"You promise?"
"Cross my heart. We good now?"
Watching her sniffle and nod, Bruce could feel his lungs shoving out what air he found himself holding. Dick to the rescue…again. "Yeah…" He could foil the Riddler's plans. He could stay one step ahead of the Joker. Hell, he could defuse a hostage situation. But this? Here in his own home? He didn't stand a chance.
"Finding Nemo and some popcorn?"
With just a heavy nod, Dick began toting the child down the stairs. She never looked his direction. Not once.
"Master Dick, it's four in the morning-"
"They're fine, Alfred."
"Last one to fall asleep is a loser." Dick called.
"Did you know 42 Wallaby Way isn't a real address?" The girl mumbled, rubbing at her tacky lashes.
"Says who?"
"Google."
He could still smell popcorn by the time Alfred and Barbra had dragged him back to the surface. Like the cave, the house itself was dark, say for the glow that was spilling from the den. "Can I get a hand here? Please?"
Only the sound of Barbra's snickering seemed to draw him closer to the doorway, her soft laughter following her as she weaved through the bowls of stale popcorn and tossed pillows to the sofa and the man stretched across it. Curled up on his chest and over an arm, was Del. Her small buttery fingers were clenched into his shirt. Her hair was all but sticking to her face in a disheveled mess. She had a sock on one foot and the other who knows where…but one thing was for certain, she was out. "Looks like you're the loser, Birdbrain." The redhead teased. "What? Can't handle a tiny thing like her?"
"I can't feel my arm anymore." He reported, earning nothing but a laugh out of her. "I wanna move it but uh…"
"Don't want to wake her either. How 'bout we just cut it off?"
"Hey, if it keeps her from freaking out again, let's do it. Tell Alfred to bring the saw."
"Seriously?" Barb asked, working the little girl off his chest and into her arms. "Couldn't have been that bad."
"She did call Bruce 'Daddy' for the first time."
"Okay…so maybe it was bad."
With his shadow shrinking along the floor, he slipped from the door, more than aware of the echo that just wouldn't leave him. 'Don't freeze me, Daddy, please! You'll die! I don't want you to die.'
Standing on the stairs now, he could still see her, face creased with sobs and marred with tears. Her night terrors had always been just that—terrors. Not that she ever reached for him. With a second to clear his throat and close his eyes, the little phantom disappeared, letting the man slip soundlessly through the halls once more.
He just needed a moment. A moment when he wasn't wondering about Paige, and all the things she never said. He just needed enough time to close his eyes and not see Dick's body rotting from the inside out. He needed to hear something. Something louder than his own thoughts. Something that rivaled the clack of keys and the squabbling of winged creatures. He needed to shed the weight off his shoulders, not that his chest felt that much lighter. But then…it was a different kind of burden. I just need a couple minutes…and then back to the drawing board.
The pulse of humming notes was all but trembling beneath his boots long before he opened those doors. It was so loud he couldn't even hear the windows rattle, surely it was enough noise to dash the thoughts of an angry teenager. I'm not the only one who doesn't want to think…
If anything, the noise made it easy to find her. It made it easy to lurk there in the doorway and watch her spring off the vault only to crash to her knees. Smacking the mat she climbed to her feet, lips moving shedding curses he couldn't hear. But then her shadow was speeding along the wall again only to spring so gingerly into the air and crash too soon on the mat below. But just like all the attempts before, the girl untangled her limbs and shoved herself to her feet, stopping only to blow a breath at the ceiling and wipe at the sweat on her brow before she went at again. The sound of her body hitting the mat only seemed to grow louder than before.
He couldn't stop the wince as she hit the mat with enough force to tumble back to her feet. Only when her chest was heaving and her leotard was line with dark patches of sweat did she slowly sink to the floor, casting a ball of a shadow beside her as she bowed her head and cursed, fingers clawing into the mat beneath her. What would…what would Dick do? What would Alfred say? The moment she lifted her head, he was sure she spotted him. But her cheeks only filled with air as she sent a hissing breath to air. The second he caught the gleam of a tear track, his feet urged him forward. But Del was wiping it away and gathering that long graceful form up again.
It was the sound of her feet pounding along the mats that stilled him. C'mon, Kid. At the sound of the spring board giving beneath her, his own fingers clenched, watching her somersault through the air. Her body would give the slightest twist to reverse the direction, but then… the ground met her before her feet could stretch out to it. So damn close. "Almost."
He hadn't realized he spoke aloud until her head popped up, sending that wide eyed gaze to the door. Without a word, she staggered to her feet, shaking her head as slammed on the buttons of her music player. "Almost." She said, half panting half scoffing as she let her gaze slide. "Didn't come to see me play gymnast did you?"
"Still planning on Santa Prisca? Even though—"
"If I pissed away a second chance like that he'd be mad as hell! 'Sorry, Dicky, I know you sacrificed a lot to make this happen but I couldn't go without you' No. That won't fly." She shot back, storming toward the small bench where she'd left her bottle of water. "So I'll need the jet in a few days."
"A few days isn't very long to—"
"I have to!" The second she spun at him, he could see them, the tears racing down her cheeks. " Or is it perhaps that she's always favored Master Dick? Of course she did, you bonehead! Did you ever stop to imagine how lonely her life would have been without him?! No wonder she reacted the way she did!"
Watching her smash the tears with the backs of her hands, he couldn't stop himself from reaching for her. Fix it. Fix it somehow. Dick would've told her it was okay. He would've found a way to make those pursed lips of hers crack into a smile. He would've ruffled her hair and swept her up by the neck with his arm to put her at ease. He would've done all these things…and yet all Bruce could manage to do was hold onto her, until she shed her guarded walls in soundless sobs.
It took his uncertain arms a minute to wrap around her completely, until her fingers were clawing into him and her cheek was crushed into his chest. She was always someone different. Beside Dick she was so confidant and witty. Maybe a little too sassy for her own good. She was every bit of that little girl he met in Paige's foyer. Honest and unafraid.
With him, she changed. She became reserved and careful. So guarded it was hard to tell what she could possibly be thinking—as if she was constantly protecting herself from being disappointed and hurt by this strange world this life offered. Maybe she was protecting herself from him. He wasn't sure if it was the thought he felt weighing on his chest or hers. But when the trembling sobs gave to warm pools of breath…she was still there.
"The serum…it worked, right?" She croaked at last, reminding him the body in his arms wasn't quite as small as he thought.
"Yes. We have time. Not much." He murmured, his hand falling down her messy hair when she lifted her head and began prying herself away. Her long fingers were rubbing across her face when he spoke again, fingers lifting her chin. "Try again." Her lips folded and flattened as uncertain as her glossy eyes, but she nodded and turned away.
He could see the points of her shoulders rising there in the darkness as a sigh hummed through her. By the time she started for the vault, he knew the sound of her feet beating against the mat. One. Two. Three. The springboard gave, letting her shoot up into the air, her agile form casting shadows along the walls. Only when her feet unsteadily hit the mat, forcing her to catch herself, did the air slide out of his unforgiving lungs.
"Finally!"
"A little shaky on the landing. Don't they deduct points for that?" Oh, that smile, even in the dark he could see it spreading across her face. Triumph. She all but skipped back toward the bench, face tacky, edges of her hair wet with sweat—but still pleased.
"Yeah…" She panted, swiping the glass water bottle off the bench once more." But now that I know where the sweet spot on the horse is, I can work on the landing." She added, pausing when she saw a particular shape darkening the bottom of her bottle. Wait…
He wasn't sure what to think when she lifted her bottle to inspect the bottom of it. "What is it?"
"A fleur-de-lis and a D… it was on the perfume bottles at Gigi's." She said slowly.
"Devereux-Verre puts that on all their glass work. Their commercial contracts are no different." He said, watching the bottle slip from her fingers, no sooner had it fallen to her feet did the girl leap for the door.
"Dad! C'mon!" She cried, tugging at him before darting down the hallway herself, leaving shiny wet footprints in her wake.
She took the stairs two and three at time, not caring about the rough feel of the stone beneath her feet, the small pieces of gravel shrapnel or the fact that she'd been banned from this place not even hours before. "Please. Please. Please." The chant was like a prayer, but then what outcome did she really want? She hit the table with a thud, forcing Damian to lazily turn the chair about and toss a rogue glance in his sister's direction as she went through the objects like a madwoman. "Where is it?!"
"I think you've lost it. Not that you've ever had it." The boy said wistfully, his eyes narrowing when she flung his chair around and fisted her hands into his shirt.
"Where'd you put it?!" Her words were sharp maybe a touch panicky and none of it could be helped. When he just blinked at her, she could feel her fingers tightening, her nails digging into her skin through the fabric of his shirt. "The bottle! The bottle that Dick drank from this morning! It was bagged. Where'd it go?!"
Smacking her hands away, Damian unfurled his crossed legs and slid from the chair, more than aware she was watching every move he made. "And they keep saying I'm the insane one." He muttered, pulling the sample back from a filing cabinet. The girl snatched it from his wagging fingers just as he noticed that imposing shape descending down the stairs. Surely he'd get rid of her now, send the loon elsewhere. But then he said nothing of the sort.
"Gloves."
Del had all but ripped the bag open with her nails, before her father's command floated to her ears. Snaking a couple rubber gloves from the box above her head, she made short work of stretching them over her fingers, her stomach knotting all the while. Finding the broken shard that used to be the bottle's bottom, Del lifted it to the light. Product of Zesti Cola. "Damn it. It was a Zesti cola product after all." She groaned. But the more she looked, the more her fingers shook. There stamped beside the beveled lettering was that familiar fleur-de-lis. "Dad…"
At her weary sounding plea, Batman lifted the jagged piece from her fingers. "That could explain why all the syrup samples came back clean."
"It's the bottles." The words almost made her tongue numb. She could hear the squeak of Damian's chair as he all but leapt from it, more than ready to blaze a trail. "I don't think-I don't think you're going to get the information you need." She said carefully. "Not by force. I think—I think I should do it."
"Tch. You're not Batgirl anymore if you hadn't noticed."
Her teeth made her lip ache. Hell, maybe that was blood she tasted. A part of her wanted to look up at the bat beside her. He hadn't said either way. But then…did it matter? "I know. But have you forgotten who they are to me?" She asked, her voice sounding so small and maybe too soft to be heard, but the boy paused. "They're…family." And they could be the reason… "I think I'm gonna need the jet a lot sooner than I thought."
AN- Okay! Things just keep getting more and more complicated. As for the Freeze and Nora backstory, it's coming from the New 52 version. I find that one more interesting. (The rest of the changes...not so much.)
I know the information about Gigi and Ras' relationship was a little ambiguous. But the woman was being ambiguous as well. In my opinion she was infatuated with him as a young woman-but that changes after you really get to know someone. There will definitely be more information on that in the next chapter. (Including if she had indeed spilled the beans about a certain grandchild.)
Next Chapter - Impostor.
