"I need a favor Tommy."
"And here I was thinking you were calling just to chat." Unlikely of course. Elliot knew that. But it put the great Bruce Wayne in his debt. Oh, did he know that too. "What kind of favor? I don't think I have the time to play wingman. Not that you need my help in that area."
The laugh on the other end was chalky and short—the man couldn't even be bothered to fake the pleasantries. A dire favor indeed. "Nothing like that. I wanted to talk to you about a surgery. A corrective heart surgery. I know it's not your field."
There. That was enough to stall him on the busy sidewalk, the desperation in Bruce's voice only caused the man to simper at the dark oily creases in the pavement—for one giddy moment, Philadelphia was forgotten.
"It's not for Alfie, is it?"
"No. No, Alfred's fine. It's…for a child." The man uttered, earning a pause. "Paige's girl."
Paige. Teeth aching, Thomas unclenched his jaw. "I see."
"This is some stick and needle kind of stuff, Tommy." He could have laughed at hearing those words coming out of him. What? Were they back to hiding secrets like a pair of ten year olds? Squinting up at the pale gray sky, Elliot forced himself to join the huddled masses at the curb.
"If this is for P's girl, why are you calling in the favor? Don't tell me she's lost my number already." He chided, half waiting for that thick silence on the other end to break as he worked his way across the street, mashing his cheek into his phone.
"She's my girl too."
The words were still ringing in his head when he realized he'd stopped dead in the middle of the crosswalk. "I'll grab the first flight I can back to Gotham."
"Thank you, Tommy."
No, thank you. "Don't worry, she'll be in good hands."
"I need to talk to Bird."
Jason let his fork slide to his plate, "You're killing my buzz." He grumbled, remembering to finish off the half masticated waffles in his mouth as the girl across from him all but crumbled down to the table. "You don't need Bird involved." He said reaching for his coffee as Delilah's lanky fingers curled into fists forcing her red knuckles to go bloodless. "Trust me-"
"YES I DO!" Table rattling, the girl's cheeks went pink when she realized just how still the diner had become. If she felt Mama Lu's arched brow on her back, she said nothing more. She simply let her brow slip into her hand. "Damn it, Jason-"
"Damn it, Jason. Why is everyone always damning me? Not like I have enough problems already." And you're one of them.
"I need..." Watching her teeth dig into that plush bottom lip, Jason lifted up his coffee cup. He had to keep his mouth busy—or else. "…I need to see Bane."
The coffee went across the table, ripping curses out of his mouth as they both franticly reached for the napkins. "Do you even hear yourself right now?!" When the teen wouldn't so much as lift her head, he snagged her busy hands, stilling them on the table. "What you're asking isn't like taking a stroll around Arkham!"
"First,you two are banging my cups and plates around, now your spitting out my fine coffee?"
At the smoky voice, Jason had no choice but peel his palms from those cold shaking hands as they both looked up at the curvy woman who was tossing a roll of paper towels onto the table. She took their mumbling apologies with a roll of her dark eyes. "Baby Girl, you haven't even touched your food." The woman scolded, leaning into top off Jason's cup.
"Don't you be spitting this cup across the table neither, I might just have to pull a Miss P and crack you on your head." She went on, perching her free hand to her hip as the man's head reared back. "Don't look at me like that. I know who you are." She said shaking her head as her attention slid to the girl who'd all but mopped up the mess. "And you. Don't you make me call Oldman Pennyworth, Miss Thing. We have an understandin'?"
"Yes, Mama Lu."
"You…came here with my mom?" The whisper was a crackly sound, surprised and suddenly raw. It was certainly enough to pull his attention from the dark-skinned woman who was giving him one of her no-nonsense leers. Returning his eyes to Del, the air went slithering out of his lungs.
This thing across from him seemed so frail, wilting against the table on her exhausted bones. Only the fine coppery hair that slipped from her ponytail seemed to be half hiding those dark circles under her eyes. "Y-yeah." The words all but stumbled from his lips as her fingers uncoiled from her steaming mug to push the wayward hair back behind her ear Strange, all he could concentrate on were the jagged scars peeking just outside her palm. "You should've seen her face when she bit into one of Alfred's waffles for the first time." He went on, aware the teen had gone still. He'd look at anything, his syrup choked waffles or the grounds floating near the bottom of his cup. Anything. Anything that might release him from the oppressive weight of those watery blue eyes. "Delilah…you don't know these people. I do. Hell, what am I saying? I'm one of these people—"
"Call. Him."
"Del—"
"Jason."
"You don't know-"
"I know you, don't I?"
With a sour tasting sigh, Jason forced himself to slide from the booth, watching Delilah's frown deepen as he stretched. Time was running short. If she wanted the old grump back, they were gonna have to move fast. For your sake, Pipsqueak, I hope so. "Fuck. Move over."
"Why?"
"You wanna sit next to Bird?" he asked, aware that her chest was collapsing as she scooted closer to the window. "That's what I thought." Nervous, Baby Bat? Good. You should be. Trust no one. Not even me. But as he sat there watching the girl tug on the charms of her bracelet, he found himself frowning into his phone. Where the fuck was Bruce? And just who was running around with his face? Didn't the asshole know one of them was enough?
I don't know if I can do this. A stronger person wouldn't hesitate. But as Aiden shifted her weight, feeling her light soled boots sink a bit further in the Carolina mud, she could only let a hesitant breath slip out of her lungs. It's not like they asked her to kill him. But they will. Soon. It's what assassins do. It's what they bought you for.
"Just do as you're told. No more. No less."
The hiss only reminds the girl that she isn't alone. But she knows better than to take her eyes off the target. Take your eyes off the target and you're liable to feel Lady Shiva's wrath. "You're not from Gotham, are you?" She asks, letting her wet hands rest on her knees. She wants nothing more than to wipe away the raindrops that are inching down her nose, but she doesn't dare move.
It's only in a brilliant flash of lightning can she see everything. The lopsided plantation house, the wispy bones of twisted trunks and bare branches, even the coppery tone of Lady Shiva's face—her almond eyes dark and deep. Her muscles are bracing for contact—but the strike never comes. The woman simply turns her head as if brushing off an insolent child. "No. And neither are you." She whispers, ignoring Aiden's mashing lips. "We have no allegiance. We're from the world and nothing more. You're a part of something bigger now. You can either accept it or let it kill you." The woman says, her slender shape pulling to her feet as a headlight scraped along the tree line. "And it will kill you. Make no mistake about that."
Aiden pulls herself up, swallowing bubbles of air, air that vaguely tasted like bile. She didn't know. She didn't understand. What did this woman know about the city she'd left behind?!
Her entire life had been spent in Gotham. It was all she'd ever known. The ash and rust was all her lungs had ever breathed. It wasn't like their life was charmed. Aiden grew up in the cauldron, among the lower class Irish families and yeah, maybe some Irish Mobsters. Dad's boxing career was at its peak. Mom was healthy. You could still step out into the street. You could still tilt your head and see the stars peeking through the clouds. But then life happened. Shit happened.
The Bowery was all Clara had ever known. The bums in their boxes, the hookers on the corners, the strung out druggies in the allies with their burned lips and blown veins—a far cry from the cauldron. There were more clouds of soot and gunshots than stars. And the only thing that could dare a pair of sisters to step into those greasy streets to tilt their heads to the sky—was a bat shaped light. No, Aiden. She knows, she just doesn't care. And neither should you.
She didn't know why the bat was here in the sticks or what he could possibly want with this Chris Donovan. She only knew she only knew that if she didn't do as Lady Shiva commanded, she'd never find Clara.
Donovan? He never should've opened his car door. "Wh-what are you doing here?!" He yelped, as the woman landed on the roof of his car.
Stay still, Aiden. Stay still. Not yet. Breathe. Wait.
"Someone sang like a bird." Lady Shiva chided, wagging a gloved finger at the man before she hopped to the washed out gravel below.
Chris Donovan was utterly still, face pale in the light cracking overhead. "I've known the Devereux's for years! I-I knew Paige for years! I gave the girl a couple bread crumbs about her mother! I told you people as much! What the hell do you want from me?!"
"Oh, so little birdy chirped. That's easy Mr. Donovan, can't you tell?"
Squinting through the rain, Aiden swallowed as Lady Shiva ripped the man from the car. Maybe it was a knee jerk reaction just to screw her eyes shut when she heard his body slam into the car.
"We want you to die."
Keep your eyes open. You have to see.
Knees shaking, heart thumping, Aiden let her weight sink against a thin-boned cottonwood, eyes busy watching the glass from the driver's side window fall to the ground like glitter as Donovan's head went through it. It was only when that Kevlar caped shadow overtook the car that Aiden's lungs stopped completely. You have to do it. What about Clara?
Donovan slumped to the ground, she could see his shadow crawling along the tires as she left the safety of the tree line, a bloody slew of mud and glass trailing after him. Spying her, he paused—caught in fear of her willowy shadow. But it wasn't the bloody-faced man she was after.
"Now! Now, you little coward!" Lady Shiva cried as Batman slung the woman into the hood. By the time he saw her it was too late. Aiden could only shiver in her rubber boots as the Taser hooks caught him in that small opening of the cowl. We thought you were impervious. We thought you were stronger than this. We thought wrong.
Turning loose of the trigger, Aiden wanted to throw the tainted thing into the mud. Staring up at the grumbling gray clouds, she could hear the man groan, shakily trying to regain his composure. "What are you waiting for?" Lady Shiva panted, draping her back against the windshield as if she were lounging in a chair. "They're waiting for us." She said, lobbing a thin looking bat at her. "And pull your hood up, you stupid child."
But the object only seemed to weigh heavily in her hands. The teen was trapped, sure the masked man's eyes were blue in the blinding flash of lightning. His eyes were blue, and her hair was red. It almost seemed to make him pause. But the girl reached for her hood tugging it over her sodden hair as if shadowing her familiar face would somehow make it easier. You have no choice.
"What about Donovan? He's getting away." The words were thick, and bitter as her fingers flexed around the grip. Out of the corner of her eye, the teen could see Lady Shiva tilt her head back as if weighed down by the thought.
"Oh, Christopher! Don't wander off too far!" She called. "Let him tire himself a little." She sighed, dismissing the man if only for a precious moment. " Now, do as you're told. The Al Ghul's don't like to be kept waiting."
Aiden closed her eyes. Unsure if her quick prayer was for Donovan, the caped crusader, or herself. You have to. "I have to." She whispered, lifting the club. I'm sorry. She wasn't sure if the man ever saw her mouthed words before the Dark Knight went limp at her feet. I'm sorry…
"P! Open the door! Please P! Please!"
Cold, I curled my toes into the hardwood floor, too transfixed on the silhouette that was banging on the front door to dare myself to move. Not even the growl of thunder or snap of lightning could deter me. The anxious plea had bewitched my curiosity. Only the frantic pounding on the door had my muscles jolting, choking Batman in the crook of my arm tighter and tighter with every rap of thick boned knuckles.
"Paige. Oh, come on! It's fucking cold out here. C'mon Sis."
The slurring halted when Jethro's deep baying started to echo through the house. My feet were moving, half listening to my mother's curses as she stubbed her bare foot on the table in the hall in her haste.
I don't know what prodded me forward from the wall. Or how I could've been so spellbound by the strain in that voice that it possessed my little hand to reach for the latch—shadows and lighting be damned.
"Del! NO!"
But it was too late, my fingers had already tugged, allowing the door to swing open with an obliging groan. The bitter wind and the icy rain, made me cling to the door as if it might shield me from the elements as I squirted up and the man who was staggering back on our porch. He was so tall. His eyes were small and wild like the curly blonde hair that was whipping around at his back. But he seemed surprised…surprised to see me.
"Who are you?" The words bubbled out of him just as Mama ripped me from the door, charging out into the damp flickering world.
"What are you doing here?! Have you lost your fucking mind?!"
The silhouettes only seemed to meld together on the walls, shadow puppets - angry and drunk. And I just stood there, nervously wiggling my toes in the shiny puddles on the floor. The drips were forgotten as my mother's voice rose. Fierce. Cracking. Foreign. Mama never yelled like that.
"Just drowned it a little. C'mon P, you don't know how long it's taken me to find—"
"Not long enough. Or did you forget what happened the last time—"
"I-I didn't mean for any of that to happen! Aw, Paige, you gotta know that. You gotta—"
"You almost killed me!"
The echo of the thunderous clouds was quickly forgotten. Batman slid from my arms as I frantically reached for the door. No matter how I tugged, the latch wouldn't budge. Mama wouldn't let go. If the world wanted to come in, it would have to go through her first.
"I had to—it was the only way…"
"Mommy?" A simple squeaking whimper and the porch was quiet.
" Mommy? " My mother's shadow didn't move. It was still as if the scoff had paralyzed her. "You're a mama? H-how did that happen—wait I know how it happened. When? When did that happen? That kid! She's yours…aw, Hell…"
"Your niece is three," Mama whispered, voice croaking as if the words were being pulled from her without her consent. "She's just a baby…she's just a baby, Benji."
"You didn't tell me—"
"If he finds out—if one of your friends comes here looking for you, what'll happen then?"
"Aw, for fuck sake, P. I won't tell him, Okay? I won't I swear. Cross my heart…cross my heart. Can I—can I meet her or…"
But the form in front of the door was shaking her head. "No. You can't. You're not coming in my house. I love you, I do. But I love her more."
"And you should." The stranger's words were clear as if he were sober for the first time that evening. "How can I help you? Tell me how I can help you."
"You can leave. Leave before anyone finds out you been here. Please. Please."
In a flicker of lightning, a shadow stumbled off the porch. "I'm sorry…you know that right?"
"Don't tell him. Don't tell him, Benji. Daddy doesn't deserve to know."
"Cross my heart, P."
The door latch wiggled in my hand, forcing me back to allow the soggy woman to slither back inside. Tilting her glistening face to the ceiling I couldn't read the words that soundlessly waded toward the ceiling as she sank into the door. When her trembling fingers fell from the locks I was sure she slide to the floor in a heap—but those glossy eyes found me first.
The air had all but rushed out of my lungs as my mother shot forward. My nervous feet went back and soon there was nothing but wall behind me. Nowhere to go. "Don't you ever do that again!" I found myself pressing my arms into my chest as my mother sank to her knees. "Don't you ever open the door for someone you don't know! Not ever! Do you hear me?!"
My lips felt heavy, opening and closing with soundless words. I didn't know what kind of answer she wanted. I didn't know what warranted the shimmering tracks on her cheeks, or what it was about her grip that made my heart race. Mama wasn't afraid of anything. Right?
"Answer me! Tell me you understand!" She snapped, shaking me as if that might force the words up to my salty lips. Instead, the back of my head hit the wall eliciting a yelp.
"Owieeee."
"Shit. Baby, I'm so sorry." The worried lines in my mother's face all seemed to blur together, a jumble of burning tears and wet fabric. Even as I gasped to make my sobs, she was around me, arms tight, breath warm. I don't know how long we sat there, a ball of knobby limbs and sticky cheeks. "Listen to me, Bebe," She whispered, fingers tracing my spine. "Not everyone who comes to our door is good…"
"What the fuck is this?!"
Lifting her head from her hands, Delilah lost count of the raindrops on the floor. The velvety breath on her ear had long since faded. And yet as she peered up at that grimacing face, all she could see was that man staggering back on their porch. A thinner, older, angry sliver of what was left of memory.
Del was still pulling herself upright when Bird's thick fingers put creases in the front of Jason's coat. "What are you doing here with her?! Just what the fuck are you trying to pull-"
"He called you for me!" The words all but fell out of her mouth the second Jason slid a foot out from under the table. Too many people here. Stop them. "He called you because I asked him to." The girl uttered, forcing herself not to yank her fingers from Bird's icy hand. "If anyone's pulling the strings here today, it's me." She went on, frantically trying to rip the jagged piece of stone from her pocket. "I need your help."
No hushed whisper could put the color in the man's face, but it did pry his fingers from Jason's coat. "Where…did you get that?" He rasped, letting Jason go with a shove.
"You know where." She'd barely swiped the pendant from the table before Bird made his move. Crushed behind Jason's broad back, she could feel her uncle's nails digging into her arm, but then, Bird wasn't moving.
"If you want to keep your limbs, keep them to yourself."
"Really JT? A steak knife?"
"It'll do the job."
"What are you? Her bodyguard?"
"No. I'm hungover and you're getting in the way of my coffee."
No sooner had he slithered from the table, did Jason let the knife down, giving a half shrug as Bird wiped at the small cut it left behind. "How is it a gun running punk like you—runs in the same circles as the Gotham's little princess?" Bird mused, aware of the stiffening body in the corner. Ah, I've got you now, you little shit. "But I digress." He said holding out an empty palm. "Cough up the rock before someone sees you with the damn thing."
"No."
"Girl. Do you even know what that thing means? Do you even-"
"Perfectly well. You don't want it in my hands, but you sent it to my mom?" The teen snapped, watching her uncle clench his jaw.
"You don't understand."
"Oh, I understand. A little liqueur and the guilt's fresh as Hell isn't it?" She went on, half aware that Jason was sinking back, lifting his cup to his lips as if that might keep him busy. "I can almost understand why you sent it to her. I know what it is…and what it's for."
"You sure run your mouth like your mom." Bird grunted, watching those big blue eyes stare down at the table and the pendant beneath her hand. She sure looks like you, P. He thought at last, watching the thick ponytail slide over her shoulder as she bowed her head. But then just as he was sure he might've gotten through, she lifted her head, cheeks pink and eyes as hard as ice. "Aw…don't tell me. Don't fucking tell me…you want to use it."
A single nod and Bird's face seemed paler than before. I didn't plan on him backing out. Her fingers were itching with panic as the man shook his head, staggering back as if she slugged him. "I don't want to."
"Then don't."
The wind was all but rushing out of her when he twisted on his heel, tossing his empty hands into the air. Beside her the weight on the seat was shifting. But before Jason could loosen himself from the table, she snagged him by the coat. "You don't owe me anything."
"You're damn right, Pretty One!"
"But you do owe Mom. She died for this." She called, feeling the warmth of Jason's side as he sank back down beside her. Bird had all but stalled at the door, tossing curses to the ceiling as her voice followed after him. "I guess you didn't think about that, or do you? Can't make the thoughts go away, can you? Just can't drown them no matter how hard you try."
"Geez, you are a bitch, aren't you?"
But the girl ignored the wispy words she could feel hissing out of the body beside her, she was too busy watching the man twist around and storm back toward the table. "Little Girl, you have no idea-"
'Yes, I do. Or did you forget that I was there? Someone knew. Someone sent those men to my mother. Now they're fucking with the rest of my family." She spat, teeth sinking to her lip when her voice started to climb and Jason's elbow began slamming into her ribs. "I'll see him with or without you. But with your help would be safer."
"Why? What—"
"The less you know, the safer we all are." Delilah whispered. "Can you help me? Can you set up the meeting? Just tell me which way I'm gonna have to do this. I don't have a lot of options and I'm running out of time."
"And what could a little thing like you—" But as words started they stopped, leaving the man sucking his breath through the gaps in his teeth. "Wayne resources and that damn Devereux temper." He grumbled, sinking into a heap across from them. "Alright, Pretty One, but once this ball starts rolling, there's no stopping it. Are you sure this is what you want?"
How long can you hold that breath? But no sooner had he thought Delilah's face would turn purple or blue, she shrank back, nodding more at the table than Bird.
"Y-yeah. I'm sure."
"I hope you know what you're doing."
"That makes two of us."
"You look like shit."
"Gee, thanks." Tim uttered, untangling himself from the hospital chair, as he squinted at the boy before him. Catching the glint of steel, the teen had barely hit the floor before a blade pierced the back of his chair, catching his shirt in the fall. "Damian what the fuck?!" Tim snapped, as the kid rip his sword free. But the boy offered no explanation but to dive on him, pressing sword against his throat.
"I know where you spent the night!" He roared, half aware of the body that was jolting up from Grayson's chest.
"What's going on here?!"
"Jesus." Tim groaned, letting his head go slack against the floor as he tried to ignore the trickle that was running down his neck, erasing the very spot that Del's breath had been. "Look, it's not—"
"I'm just going to say this once." Damian hissed through gritted teeth. "You so much as lay a hand on her, I'll rip your heart out and feed it to the dogs."
"Damian! Enough!" But no sooner had the redhead wheeled herself closer did the boy relent, watching the pathetic thing on the floor wipe at the blood on his neck.
"Grayson can't help you." He said evenly. "And Father's not here to stop me." He said shaking the remnants of blood off his blade before he slid it back into its sheath.
"Look, Damian, I don't know what the hell your problem is, but I would never hurt your sister! Between the two of us, you're the one who drew her blood!" But the child simply turned his back on him and continued stalking for the door.
"My blood. My sister."
Wincing at the slamming door, Barbra put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "First, are you okay?" She asked as Tim collected himself.
"Y-yeah. I'll be fine." He stammered, staggering for a box of tissues.
"Okay. Second. Care to explain what he's talking about? Did you and Del do something?"
"No! No! Nothing like that!" The boy cried, twisting on his heel. "She—I-" When the words wouldn't come, Tim's shoulders sank, forcing him to frown at the bloodied tissues in his hands. "We were talking last night, and the next thing I know, she's…sleeping against my shoulder. I…I couldn't bring myself to wake her. Hell, Babs. It was probably the only sleep she got last night."
"I see."
"I don't know what's up the demon child's ass."
"Haven't you noticed it yet?" She probed, lifting her gaze to the teen as he went still. "He finally has someone who genuinely cares about him. And he doesn't want to share. Especially not with you."
"But what the hell did I do?"
Oh, that small knowing smile. "You've fallen for her. Even the ten-year-old can see it." Barbra said, eyes crinkling as the words drove Tim back, weighing him back down into his chair. "Scary isn't it?" She asked, as his eyes dropped to his hands. "Giving someone the power to destroy you…and trusting them not to?"
"Terrifying."
The whisper had barely left his mouth before the light of the hall, cut through the dimness. He knew she was there long before he could smell her perfume or before the tinkling of charms reached his ears. His eyes were on the ghost girl. Not her sulking ninja of a brother, or the coffee cup that Sam shoved at him. Just her—a wraith who was tip-toeing around Dick's bed, reaching out to the new tubes of a respirator. Am I in love with her? But before he could force the pressure out of his lungs, her lips moved.
"When…"
"This morning." Tim uttered, feeling the heaviness of the room's stare. "The serum had an adverse reaction. It's thickening his blood." But even as the words were falling out of him, all he could concentrate on were those pale hands, hands that were running down Dick's bruised arm as if she might hurt him. "They have him on blood thinners…so he's easily bruised it's not from the venom." He assured her, watching her place her hands on Dick's chest as if she were feeling for the forced rise and fall of his lungs.
"Everything's working to compensate." She whispered. "Dad hasn't been here, has he?"
"No."
"Is everything a go?" Sam asked, easing into a chair with her computer on her lap. "Will Bird do it?"
With a collective breath, Tim leaned forward, "Bird? You sure we can trust him?"
"No." Del croaked, turning toward him, finally letting him see those exhausted eyes. "I'm not entirely sure, but this happening one way or another."
"I can't let you go alone What if—" But the girl held up her hand, stalling his aching muscles as he shot to his feet.
"I won't be alone." She said, breaking her gaze with him to eye the door that was cracking open. But he couldn't look away from her. "Damian and I are flying to Santa Prisca today." Earning a nod from the little demon she finally looked back at him. "Bird will be arriving there within the hour. Jason will follow."
"Jason?!" Came the unison cry, but before Delilah could move her lips, that voice cut through the dimness.
"Now who thought that could be worse?"
Tim had no choice but to root himself to the floor as the man ducked in from the doorway. "Are you sure? I could-"
"I need Dick safe." Delilah said, closing the gap between them. "If someone's taken Dad's place, Dick's a target."
"She inherits everything." Damian snorted, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "And there's her next guardian." He added pointing at Dick. "A girl in a wheelchair isn't much insurance, even if she was Batgirl."
"That's your assumption."
But Delilah said nothing as she turned, back toward the man in the bed. Barbra's knuckles had all but gone white clutching those unresponsive fingers. "They think you're wide open."
"And I want it to stay that way." The words were sure, surprising her. Who was this person that was speaking for her? Whoever she was, maybe she couldn't feel the ache of her knees as they smacked together. "As far as they know, they think I'm simply going to a completion with my father and kid brother in tow. With Dick out of commission, I'll be using a substitute coach from the gym." She said, gesturing at Jason.
"Do I have to wear the stinkin' track suit?"
"Yes you do. So no screwing it up."
"Fuck, Dickhead would eat this up." Jason grunted, crossing his arms in front of him. "What about Wayne Enterprises and all that shit? Why take the time to play Daddy?"
"Because there's something they want more. Something in Santa Prisca." The girl uttered, hand groping around in her pocket for that rough bird shaped stone. "Fox already knows. He'll slow down any paperwork they throw at us. But it's only buying us time." She said, chest collapsing as she turned toward the girl who was prying open the lid of her laptop—anything to keep her from making eye contact with Jason. "Sam, can you and Barbra continue the work on the ant-venom if Damian gives you all the data? As far as we know, the bat-computer is compromised."
"Yes. Yes we can. If we have to we'll use the labs in the GCPD." Barbra whispered, earning a nod from the girl as she untangled her hand from Dick's lifeless fingers. "First everybody cough up your phones and whatever tech you've got. Let's make sure no one else has tapped into them."
No sooner had Tim handed his phone over to the woman, did he head for the door. "Jason. Outside." He grumbled, ignoring how wide Delilah's eyes had gone, or that Barb slung an arm out to stop the girl from proceeding any further.
"What is this? A Robin convention?"
He had to hand it to the kid. Shorter or not, he'd still managed to knock the wind out of him when he slammed into the happy yellow cinder block wall at his back. "Let's make this clear. I don't trust you." Tim snapped, letting his fists fall from Jason's coat. "She…she does. Despite all that you've done. She trusts you." The kid hissed, letting his eyes fall to the floor as he tussled with the thought.
"Jealous?"
"Not even."
Yeah, right.
"Perplexed." He said at last. "You've got a second chance. Don't blow it. Don't do that to her."
"Or what? You'll kill me?" The man asked eyeing that white-knuckled fist he was holding back. "You gonna use that or what?"
But the teen simply jerked his thumb to the boy behind him before storming down the hallway, putting a fist into the wall as he cursed and hissed, blowing by the door completely.
"Idiot."
"You got a warning for me too?" Jason grumbled, pressing his arms into his chest as the double doors slammed behind the dark haired teen down the hall. But the boy simply lifted his chin, face ugly and smug.
"Dumb as Drake is, he knows he can't compete with the history." Damian said, giving the man a side long glance as he began fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "But my sister isn't the only one you have a history with, Todd. You don't need a warning from me. I'd rip out your entrails this very second if my sister didn't find you useful." The boy said, locking his fingers behind his head as he began back for Dick's hospital room. "But you knew that."
"Guess I better be useful." Jason muttered, peeling himself off the wall as his fingers pried a cigarette from the pack. "See you guys in Santa Prisca. Though I wouldn't mind if this guy kicked you out the hatch on the way." Watching the brat pause, Jason popped the unlit smoke in his mouth and headed for the door.
Fuck! What was this? Slam Jason into a wall day? Shrugging into his coat the second he stepped into the pale winter light, Jason cupped his lighter as he lit his cigarette. Damn, he hadn't needed a smoke in a while. More likely to die by ninjas than lung cancer now. He thought bitterly. Shit, he'd be lucky if Bird didn't shoot him in the back.
"I know who you are, you little fucker!" It'd been the first time that morning Jason found himself slung into the wall. Pipsqueak's taxi was barely out of sight, and Bird had him pinned, Jesus, couldn't the guy wait until his food was done digesting at least? "The first time we met, you put a gun to my head."Bird hissed. "Just what is the Red Hood doing with my niece?!" Bird might be old, but the guy still packed a wallop. But let's be honest. Jason wasn't sure if it was the name of his alter ego sliding out of his mouth or the fist to his gut that made him double over.
"Underestimated you a little didn't I?" Fuck, I gotta stop doing that.
"Try a lot, Kid! Now, you better start talking or I'm gonna bash your brains in, I've got no problem going back to Arkham."
"Feeling familial and shit now, aren't ya?" Jason coughed, paying no mind to the man's narrowing gaze as he righted himself along the alley wall just outside of Mama Lu's. "She didn't need you then, and she doesn't need you now. She's got me. She always has." Jason said, letting that lead pipe in Bird's hand tilt his chin back. Any second now he'd feel the barrel of gun in his gut. He's smart enough to know the Red Hood would be armed to the teeth. And yet he was still choosing to provoke him? "Crazy Bastard." Jason huffed, watching those thin lips tighten as he slid the slide back on his gun. "You're not the only one who owes Miss P." Jason spat, putting his elbow into the man's face as he slid the gun back into his pocket.
The man was rubbing his offended cheek, spitting the blood out of his mouth when Jason crouched down in front of him. "But you are protecting her."
"What about it? How the fuck did you know my sister?"
"Let's just say she was good to a kid who didn't deserve it." Jason whispered, looking more at the mud at his boots than the man who was using the wall to get himself to his feet. "The old man—you don't want him to know about Del. Why is that? Did Paige know? That her father's still alive and well, chomping on cigars and playing cards—"
"Look, there's a lot of shit you don't know." Bird growled, still probing at his jaw. "You little asshole, I think you knocked one of my teeth loose." He grumbled, spitting more blood between their feet. "She wanted it that way. Maybe she finally realized her hero was a gambling, drinking, two-bit con artist who married Bailey Devereux just for her money. The second he all but bled that woman dry he was gone." Bird said shaking his head. "He doesn't need to know his granddaughter is Gotham royalty. And she doesn't need to know about him. So if you're looking out for Del the way you say you are—you'll leave things well enough alone."
"Delilah."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't know her well enough to call her Del." Jason said evenly, not sure if that was a smirk or a wince he saw crossing Bird's face.
Fingers ripping the jarred tooth from his mouth, Bird, cursed and spat, throwing it into the mud. "Huh." He uttered between spitting. "You got close to me for her, didn't you? "
"Yeah, though I don't mind separating you from your chump change."
With a gurgling sound that could only pass as a laugh, Bird wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "I always thought you were listening to the TV a little too intently."
"Explains why you had such girly shit on. The guys never asked?"
At that Bird went straight as a board. "They don't need to know a fucking thing!"
"You're right."
"This favor…you know what it's for—don't you?"
"Yeah." Jason answered, squinting up at the sun. "She's gonna need as many people in her corner as she can get." He said, slithering closer to the sidewalk, only to pause. "So I guess you need to figure out where your loyalties lie. Bane? Or the only part of your sister you've got left?"
Don't go outside. It's not safe. For a while the warning worked, keeping her pacified within the giant house. But hiding beneath her fears was craving for sunlight. Surely she was forgetting how leaves felt crunching under her feet, or what the wind might whisper.
She could still remember the way her heart thumped when her bandaged fingers reached for the door handle, so sure that Alfred would put a stop to her or worse…Bruce might see her. It didn't matter, she half expected the thing to be locked. Alfred was a stickler for locking the doors. But not today. The handle gave, filling her with a terrible delight when the wind hissed through the crack. Bruce is gonna be mad. But she couldn't stop the need for more. Soon her sore feet were standing on the sun soaked patio, leaving the little thing to gulp at the air that smelled of nothing more than damp earth.
What was so bad out here? What was so dangerous about the bright pink rose buds, or the statues that begged her inspection? Sure, Alfred might panic if he saw all the grass and chlorophyll stains sticking to her bandages, but he'd know how charming a birdsong could be wouldn't he? Or how a tiny frog might tempt her away from the door?
Finally, something was familiar to her in this strange empty place. The chilly wind that made the trees dance, the feel heat of the sun on her shoulders, the smell of grass and her knee damp jeans—finally something she knew! She even knew how to catch the little amphibian! Oh the delight! The soft squeaking croaks and the feel of something breathing in her cupped hands was enough to summon a laugh from her—a sound she was sure she'd forgotten how to make.
But among the sound of splashing fountains and shivering vines was something else. A rapid kind of clicking—it was enough to lure her from beneath the rose bushes. Someone else was in the garden and it was all Delilah could do but stand there as the man shoved his camera lens between the bars of the fence.
He lowered the heavy looking thing, revealing a practiced grin as he crouched there. "What's your name?" But she just stood there, eyes going dry as she watched the stranger lift the camera once more. Strangers weren't to be trusted. "What happened to you?" He asked suddenly, face twisting with concern as it were the first time he'd noticed the gauze wrapped around her hands and feet.
"I…" No. You don't know him.
"What are you doing at Wayne Manor? It's okay, Honey, I won't tell." When her lips refused to budge, the man tried again. "Where's your mommy? Is she inside with Mr. Wayne? Why don't you ask her to come outside?" He probed.
"I…I can't." The words came on their own, it wasn't like she wanted to say anything. "I can't." She whispered again, chest tight and aching. Mommy isn't coming back. Lips trembling, the girl tucked her head, as if fighting back the words. She never saw him.
"You! Get the Hell out of here!" At the sound of Jason's voice, Del, smeared the fresh coating of tears on her sleeve, trying not mash the little creature in her hands when someone snatched her up from the lawn, leaving Jason to rip the film out the back of the camera.
"Hey! That's Gotham Noir Property!"
"Bill me! Now get lost!"
The house was hot, suffocating. The second Bruce set the girl to her feet, she could feel nothing but water leaking out of her ruined dressings. "What the hell were you doing out there?! What did I tell you?!" He roared.
"I just—I just wanted to play!"
"Well, you can't! Not—"
"Man, Bruce, think about that for a second. How fucked up is that?"
She wasn't sure what shocked her more. The fact that Jason had cursed or the fact that he was on her side. "Be quiet!"
"Gee, thanks for grabbing the film, Jason. Thanks for keeping Gotham Noir from making me front page news. Well, you're welcome you big ass jerk." No sooner had Bruce shot up from his feet did the boy come forward. "It's wrong to keep her in here like this and you know it. It's sick! What are you going to do? Lock her indoors forever? Dude! It's been three months!"
"Good Heavens what is all the fuss in here?"
At the sight of Alfred's lanky form, Jason put his hands to his hips. "You know I'm right. Just can't stand it, can you? Paige wouldn't—"
"That's enough Master Jason."
"Whatever. I'm out."
The silence was so heavy it was hard to breathe. For a moment, all she could concentrate on was the sound of Jason's shoes storming up the stairs. "You know he's..." With his master's scowl on his back, Alfred shook his head and turned his attention girl. "What a mess you are, Madam!"
"What do you want me to do?" Bruce groaned, watching the old butler scoop up the disheveled child and set her on the counter. "If she's seen-"
"What do you have there?" Alfred pried, peeking into her fingers as she revealed her little secret to him.
"You're not even listening."
"The veins in your neck get all big when you're mad." It took the man a moment to close his mouth. Face red, Bruce blew his breath to the ceiling and shook his head. "There will be more like that man...won't there? The ones who like to take pictures of you?" She whispered as he sank into the stool beside her. He seemed way too big for it.
"Yes, there will." He uttered, tipping her cupped palms toward him. "That thing's going to give you warts."
"Only if I don't wash my hands." The girl said, but just a cheerful and bright as her face had been, she frowned. "He can't stay in here with me anyway."
"And why is that, Miss? I had a pet frog as a boy."
"That wouldn't be fair. He belongs outside. He might get sad too." She lamented. "They can see me through the fence."
"A shame we can't just replace the fence so no one could see through it." Alfred sighed, pausing long enough to give Bruce an arch of his brow before he went back to unraveling her bandages.
"Yeah…" Bruce grumbled sliding to his chair, pausing when the child held her hands out to him. "What? You want me to put Kermit outside?" With a nod from the girl, the man huffed, grimacing as she let the fragile thing roll into his hand. "If this thing pees on me…"
"Oh poppycock, Master Bruce, I remember plenty of times when you came home with frogs and worms and such in your pockets."
"Only because Tommy and Paige's pockets weren't deep enough." Bruce went on, giving a sad kind of smirk as he opened the door and crouched down, letting the little frog hop to freedom without incident.
"I like worms too."
"Not to eat I hope." Alfred teased, letting the girl's bare feet hang in the air as he moved to grab a fresh roll of gauze, chucking at the girl's scrunched face.
"Ewww…no. Me and Mommy go fishing sometimes. Fish gotta' eat." But no sooner had the words left her was Del silent. Her swinging feet still. "Used to…" She whispered, pulling Bruce from the garden door. "I mean…we used to."
"Master Bruce likes to fish." Alfred said gently as he took up his spot once more. "Isn't that right, Sir?"
"I do. Not that I'm good at it." The man said, eyes cutting to the old man before he took a deep swallowing breath and set his gaze on the child who was sitting on his kitchen counter. "If I have a new fence put up, would you like that? To go fishing—I mean."
He seemed relieved when she nodded, but it was also enough to bring him back toward the counter. "But you have to promise me that you won't go outside until the new fence is up. Can you do that? I know you want to go outside…but can you wait just a little bit longer?"
"I can do that." With her answer, the old man lifted her off the counter.
"Alright, Madam, go wash up…unless you want warts."
She'd barely scurried from the kitchen when they spoke again, their words chasing her up the stairs.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"A new fence for the entire property—that'll cost a pretty penny."
"Good thing you have quite a few pennies then." Alfred scoffed. "Master Jason is right, you know. What are you going to do? You can't shut her in this house forever. That's unhealthy for a child."
"I know, Alfred. But in here…I know she's safe."
"I can't believe you let me fall asleep." Delilah hissed, ducking in from the oppressive heat for the hotel lobby, well aware the creature with her father's face was in a shadow's reach. But before the boy beside her could untangle his sneer, the man at her back spoke.
"I told him to let you be." He offered, peeling his sunglasses from his face. The smile could melt every woman in this lobby into a puddle. Never mind how authoritative and clean the Italian suit made him. Sure the hair was black and eyes were blue—but something about that genuine cheeky grin made the girl's stomach roll. "Not that it helped those raccoon eyes of yours."
"Gee, thanks Dad." Del groaned, mashing her teeth into her cheek as she marched for the counter. "Reservations for—"
"Wayne. Of course, Miss."
"Teenagers. So, moody." He sighed, leaning into the counter, warming the poor clerk's cheeks to a bright shade of pink with that million dollar smile. Delilah couldn't fake the eye roll when his hands lingered just a second too long over hers.
Not able to stomach it, the teen snatched the keycards from him. "You don't even know the half of it." She grumbled, flicking one in his direction. The man frowned.
"You're not going to be this fun the entire time are you?" He asked, turning the card over in his hands. "You're not on the same floor?"
"Nope. I'm on the same floor as the rest of the team." Huh. He seemed to like that. "Tonight's the meet and greet, but we can skip that." She said, her blown breath forcing the loose hairs to skirt around her face. Halfway to the elevator she realized he wasn't following. "Dad?"
"You kids go ahead. Catch up later?"
Where are you going? But the girl nodded, dragging her bag and brother into the elevator. "Follow him. I want to know where he goes, and who he talks to." Given nothing but a glower, Del uncurled her fingers from Damian's arm, letting the back of her head lull against the wall as the elevator lifted. "Can't believe you let me-"
"Tch, like I needed you. I could've had him choking on chess pieces if I desired."
"True. He give anything away?" The teen asked, giving the boy a glance as he leaned against the wall himself, tilting his blank eyes up to the ceiling.
"You've played chess with Father I assume?" He asked suddenly, tilting his head at her, ignoring her furrowing brow. "What would you say his style is like?"
"Aggressive." She uttered, watching Damian purse his lips. If his mind went any faster, smoke would start coming out of the kid's ears. "Plays like you fight." With a snapping of his head, Del shook hers. "You follow that thing, and I'll find Jason. He's gotta be here by now. He should know where Bird is and then…"
"Bane."
"Yeah."
"Don't tell me you're scared." Damian spat, crossing his arms in front of him as the elevator slowed. "How much damage could a Lucha Libre knock off do?"
"A lot." The girl said, staring into the empty hall as the doors pulled open. The boy on the other hand only snatched at his bag.
"He's never met me."
"That's probably a good thing." Del called after him, sinking back into the elevator as the boy waved her off like a fly. "Lucha Libre Knockoff…I wish."
The man was one of her father's more cunning adversaries, evenly matched for brains and enough brawn to break the Bat. Never mind that he knew her father's identity. There was a lot of power in Bane's hands. And he could say no. Then what?
Stomach churning, Delilah, peeled herself off the elevator, thankful the hall was empty of any familiar faces. He could crush that damn stone to powder and tell you to get lost. You know that, right? Bird's warning wasn't helpful, but it was honest. Not even he knew what to expect.
It was the slam of the door that pried him off the patio. "Yo." But the girl didn't even acknowledge him as she dumped her bags by the door and darted for the bathroom. She didn't even have time to close the door before she crashed to her knees right there in front of the toilet. "Nice to see you too." He muttered into his glass, tipping it back as the girl threw her guts up. "Thanks for warning me." He said, reaching for the bathroom light. "First, you didn't tell me that they make sure to remove the alcohol from the rooms. Second, those little boobless wonders are nosy as fuck." He grumbled, shaking his head at the thing that was hanging over the toilet bowl.
Throwing a washcloth into the sink, Jason yanked on the faucet. Without missing a beat he let the wet rag settle on her head, swiped his glass off the bathroom counter and waltzed right back out, counting her dry heaves as he settled back into the chair on the patio. Hell, at least the view was decent. Of course the last time he saw an ocean is was more green than blue.
"What the hell were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking that you were an asshole for leaving him there!" It wasn't like Paige had never yelled at Bruce before…she'd just never yelled at the man about him. "What?! What did you want me to do?! He called me for help, B. What was I supposed to do? Just dismiss him?"
"With all the trouble he caused?! Yes! I sent him to that school for a reason! He played you! He called me too—"
"And you just assumed he was lying—"
"When he didn't get what he wanted, he turned right around and called you! "
"And I'm glad he did! Bruce, he's got the bruises to prove it! Silence. For a moment Jason could hear nothing but the rhythmic panting of the dog that was sitting beside him, tongue lolling, ears back as if he was straining to listen too.
"You've done a lot for him. No one can dispute that—"
"I thought—I thought making him a Robin would help him."
"Maybe it's not Batman's help that he needs." Damn, he could still remember how his chest felt when all the air went whooshing out of him. How his lungs were aching to inflate. "I think the Bat needs him…and the boy? He needs Bruce. Not Bruce the billionaire either. You know what I mean, stop making that face at me."
At that moment Jason could almost picture that scowl on Bruce's face, sullen…disbelieving…holier than thou, how dare you speak to me thusly face. He could still hear the crack of Paige's hands as they slapped to her sides. She always did that when she was at her wit's end. He half wondered if she'd made fists already to keep herself from strangling him. Or if she was clenching her teeth to keep from cursing.
In the inaudible grumble of Bruce's response, Jason flopped back on the sand, unsure if it was Miss P's sigh he heard or just the sea. If it were Alfred, the jerk would've threatened to fire him and storm off by now. The idea made the kid grin. Yeah, just let him try to fire Paige. She'd probably tell him to shove the job up his ass. He couldn't control her like he controlled his butler.
But as he lay there, squinting up at the cotton ball clouds, he could only hear that voice, soft and serious.
"He's a child. Not a toy solider."
"I see you found something to drink anyway."
At the unmistakable sound of a voice in mid-brushing, Jason lifted the half empty bottle, trying to ignore the narrowed eyed reflection. "I see you're done puking your brains out." He said, half aware the girl was ducking back in the room to rinse. "You're supposed to do that after you drink in excess."
"You shouldn't be drinking at all." Del protested, not able to stop the slithering breath as she put her bare feet on the patio at last. Even as she closed her eyes to the heat of the dying sun, all she could feel was the weight of his stare. Only the sound of liquid splashing into a glass could pry her heavy eyes open.
"You look like dog shit." Jason said, pushing the glass toward her. "When's the last time you slept?" He asked, lifting the bottle to his lips.
"Bird?"
"He'll be in contact. He'll take us to Bane himself tomorrow."
"Us?" The girl chirped, shaking her head at the glass. "Since when—"
"Since always, Pipsqueak. You honestly think I'd let you meet with Bane alone? Piss on that. What kind of solider would I be? Huh?" But Delilah said nothing as he lifted the bottle once more. It was strange to watch her tip toe across the balcony…like she was tip toing around a landmine. But no sooner had her body sank into the empty chair beside him did everything in her seem to loosen. "Any clue on who this bastard is?"
"No…Damian's tailing him now."
"And you trust that little shit?"
"More than I trust you." She quipped earning a toasting tilt of the bottle.
"Would it be so bad if you never found him? Just dump this imposter's ass in a ravine with some concrete shoes—you'd be free. Gotham would be at your beck and call. Fuck. You could put it into submission if you wanted."
"I'd be free." The girl agreed leaning back but then she was giving him that glance. "As free as you?" She asked, tapping on the bottle. "Yes it would. We're talking about my dad, Jase." Del huffed, cheeks looking a bit pink or was that the fading light? "Put Gotham into submission. Hah. Yeah, right."
"You could do it." Jason said, taking a swig. "You've got that itch to do the shit he's afraid of. I can see it." He murmured, cutting her off when those lips fell open to argue. "Don't give me that monster talk either. You've never pushed yourself that far because he told you not to. You gave yourself his limits. You mold yourself to be like him, and you're not like him at all…you're like…"
"Like who?" Del snapped, ripping the bottle from him, splashing rum between them. "My mom? You were going to say my mom, weren't you? Weren't you?!"
"Damn. Numbing agent yes. But it does not help me keep my mouth shut." Jason grunted, snatching the bottle from her. "Aw, look what you did." He mumbled glancing at the dark puddles. "Yeah, so what if I was?" He hissed, looking away when she sat up, dark eyes wide and unblinking.
"Numbing…agent? Jason…those things I said to Bird. I…I wasn't directing that at you. I wasn't. First time I ever saw him he was…" But then the girl stopped and shook her head. "You spent a lot of time with her didn't you?"
But he just sat there staring out to sea. "I hated you. I hated that you had come along. I mean…I knew that wasn't any of your choosing. It wasn't your fault. But you were the reason. She was the closest thing I had to a real mom…" He whispered, the rum in the bottle slashing as he tilted it toward his lips, breathing in the warm bite with his next breath. "By six I knew just how much heroin my mom put in her needles. I used to find her passed out on floor all the time. Up and killed herself with the drugs. Can't say I was surprised. I mean…why would she want to stick around? I wasn't biologically hers." He shook his head.
"Then there was my biological mom—yeah. Sold me out to the clown. We both know how that ended. And then there was Talia. She was motherly if you can belie it. Now she wants to fucking kill me. Not really surprised there. She's a lunatic. I mean look how screwed up that kid brother of yours is." At that he shrugged. "Miss P was the closest chance I had. No matter what I threw at her she just wouldn't give up on me. Hell, she was the one who drove hundreds of miles to rescue me from that damn boys school. Turned out to be Ma Gun's school of thieves. She was the first one to believe me."
No matter how she tried to go back to those days, those gray snowy afternoons filled with black attire and condolences, Del couldn't picture it. She could still remember the way her feet ached, the way the snow caught in her hair. How the rose for her mother's casket felt in her fingers. She could remember all the people who touched her head or kissed her on the cheek. They whispered their sympathies. But never…no one ever… reached out to the boy.
"No one ever told you they were sorry for your loss…did they?" She whispered, aware the weight of her words had him staring down at the glass in his hands. "You lost her too."
"Point's a little moot by now don't you think?" He grumbled, rising from his seat. "It was my—" Before he could utter the words, the bottle was yanked from his fingers.
"Piss on that." She hissed, ignoring the rise of his brow when she put the bottle to her lips, forcing down a hearty swallow. When the teen coughed and gagged, there was a chuckle filling the darkness. "Oh, that's so—fuck."
"That can't be the first time you've ever touched hard liquor." But her head was nodding, her face pinching as if she were fighting to keep it down. "Pansy."
"You know what sucks? Everyone seems to know her." Del uttered, letting him take the bottle from her. "Everyone but me. Jason Todd knows my mother better than I do."
"Who would've thunk it." He murmured, holding the bottle out to her when he'd had his swig. "Guess you just weren't special enough."
"I shouldn't be drinking this…at all."
"Eh, it only affects your judgment and reaction time." He teased, lips breaking into a smile when she winced at her second sip. "In your case it'll make you sleep. Something you'll need to do or you'll scare the hell out of the judges tomorrow. So other than wearing that ugly ass uniform what the hell am I supposed to do?" He asked, pausing long enough to take a swallow of rum.
"Other than standing there and looking pretty?" She asked, taking the bottle from him. Hands hesitating, she held to her lips, forcing back the bitter taste she wiped her mouth. Dad would be disappointed…"Dragging spring boards in place and catching me if I fall. But I think your time would be better spent looking for any unusual activity from the stands."
By the fourth sip, the rum was going down smoother, though Jason seemed to be keeping the bottle longer and longer, until finally he wasn't pushing it toward her at all. "I think you've had enough." He said at last, shaking his head at her as she all but pooled in her chair, tempted by sleep but tickled to death by the haze.
"Now, see you started this mess." She chided willing herself up on her unsteady limbs to make a grab for the bottle, instead she found herself pressed into a solid chest as he held the bottle over the balcony railing. "Jason."
"Nope. You're cut off. A little food and you'll pass smooth out. You're a bit of a light weight, Delilah Wayne. I wouldn't go telling people that if I were you. Wouldn't take much for ol' Timmy boy to cop a feel."
Delilah snorted, fingers cupping her mouth as if that'd cover the noise. "He wouldn't do that." She said primly, hands sinking to her hips. "He's good to me. "
"Then why aren't you dating him, riddle me that?"
"Oh, you did not—"
"Would you rather I use 'Holy' puns?" He asked, earning him a smiling shake of the head. "You don't want to date him, do you?" The smile was gone.
"I didn't say that." She shot back. "I like him." But even as the words whispered out, she found herself backed into the wall—trapped. "I feel things when I with him. Happy, crazy, stupid—things."
"Makes your heart race does he?"
Blinking up at him, all Del could see was the gloss of his eyes in that shadowed face. Even without the sun the air was thick and sticky and suddenly hard to breathe. "Yeah…as stupid as that sounds."
"Then what is this?" He asked, pressing her own palm into her chest. "Your heart's pounding." No sooner had his thick fingers slid from her wrist, did his hands make a reach for her, but before his palms could cup her face, she slammed into him, knocking him into the railing. "Did I hit a nerve—"
"Shut up, Jason. Just shut up." She whispered, swallowing her own words as she rose on the tips of her toes to reach his mouth. Heart racing, head swimming, she could all but revel in the feel of him melting around her. Only the feel of his hands sliding around her hips could make her gasp for air. "I did not drink enough for you to cop anything." She growled, slapping his hands away until they cupped her face.
"Are you going tell me that I don't make you feel anything?" But no sooner had the whisper touched her cheek, and his lips turned loose of her lip, did Delilah push herself away, untangling herself in a hurry. One step forward, and she was holding out a hand to stop him.
Hand covering her mouth, she shrank back against the wall. It was way too late to take back the memory of her mouth on his, or the taste lip-gloss and rum. "I-I…" The hand slapped down to her side. "You do." She squeaked. "It's—it's thrilling. It-it makes it hard for me to breathe…but mostly Jase…it scares me. It doesn't feel right…You kiss me and I-I feel—I like it and I shouldn't-"
"You just kissed me, so excuse you." But then he sighed, easing against the banister. "Why? Why doesn't it—what is it about me that just doesn't work for you?"
"What is it about me that makes you want to kiss me?" She cried, fingers curling into the knees of her capris. "I'm sixteen…I'm only sixteen. Doesn't that bother you?"
"I…well…"
"I don't feel like I'm ready for someone so intense. Jase…I'm not ready. But I want –it's just-it's too overwhelming. Does…does that make sense at all? I-I'm sorry I just cut you off I—" The words stuck there in her throat when he moved, taking up the small space between them in his impossibly long strides.
"Relax, Baby Bat." He murmured, frowning as she all but went stiff in his hands. The spell was broken. Pressing his lips to her hair, he slid from her and reached for the door. "Don't take me seriously. It's just the liquor talking anyway." With that he opened the door. "Some grub ought'ta shut it up."
Food. It was the last thing Damian could think about at time like this. However, being crammed beneath the service cart didn't exactly help settle the pangs—oh well it would serve its purpose. It got him in the room. The bigger question was, just what was Ubu doing here? The league of Shadows has a hand in this. The thought only made the boy grimace as the room brimmed with bubbly laughter. The lug always did have his vices. It made him soft. Complacent.
Closing his eyes, the boy waited for the cart to still, half listening to the mindless prattle and the sound of the serviceman's shoes on the carpet. Only when he heard the door click closed did Damian bolt from the cart, ignoring the little screams as he ripped his blade free. "UBU!"
"You!" The man had barely shot up from his chair when the child leapt up onto the table. Only when he lifted it, forcing the brat to jump for it, did his guests scurry from the room.
"What are you doing here?! What are you up to?!" The kid snarled, gritting his teeth as the behemoth caught the blade in his hands. The beat only chuckled, making his eyes squint as he grinned.
"You honestly think I'd tell you?"
"Willingly? Please." Ripping the sword free, Damian paid no mind to the blood that was dripping to the floor. Instead he could only leap back as the man came in swinging, forcing him to land on his haunches on the bar. "Where's the fun in that?"
"I told you you'd pass out." Jason murmured, letting his towel settle around his neck as he surveyed the creature that was curled up on the sofa. Shoving away the end table and the unfinished plate of food, he worked his hands beneath her. "Damn, you're heavier than you look." He grumbled, feeling his lungs catch as her head tilted into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
Staggering toward the bed, he let her spill to the mattress half listening to her seep induced mumbling. "Tim…" Jason sank to his haunches. He makes me feel things. Crazy, happy, stupid things.
"Happy things, huh?" He whispered, letting his hand settle in her hair. "I could say the same about you. You make me feel crazy, impossible, stupid things . Like I might be okay when I'm around you…that's a kind of happy isn't it?" But with no reply but the soft ticklish feel of her exhales, he pulled himself to his feet, certain that his hand pulling from her hair might wake her…if the sliding of the balcony door didn't do it.
"We've got a problem."
He could've cursed at the sound of the kid's voice, but instead Jason only twisted about, watching the boy peek at the untouched food. "Great. She'll be useless." He said with a hiss, popping a cherry tomato into his gob, before he finally crumbled and fetched a fork. "They're in on this, Todd." Damian muttered, but when Jason only sank into a chair without reply, the boy lifted his head, stabbing fork still. "But you knew that. Didn't you?"
"Had a feeling." He uttered, groaning as his phone danced on the table behind him. Bird.
"Yo. What'cha got?"
"This meet—this was her idea wasn't it?"
Unsure of what to make of the man's question, the pair only stared at each other and back down at the phone. "Yeah."
"Yeah? Is there something else I need to know?"
"Not that I-" But no sooner had the words started to bubble out of him, did Damian rise to his feet, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie.
"Then why the fuck is Bruce Wayne contacting me about Bane's favor?!"
Without missing a beat, Damian tossed a handful of photos on the table. In them was someone with Bruce's face talking with Bird.
"Doesn't he know that his daughter already has it?!"
"No." Jason uttered, wiping at his mouth. "He doesn't."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that."
He promised me…
Watching her name drop on the scoreboard, Delilah frowned. "I didn't practice my beam routine like I should've…" She uttered, watching Jason's reaching hand drop to his side. Staring up into the crowd, Del bit into her lip as she spotted that bare section in the stands. You said you'd come. You promised me…
"He won't be coming." Jason told her, rubbing the back of his neck when she hastily turned away. "It's not him."
"I…I know that." She whispered, certain her voice would get swallowed by the sound of applause. "I know…that and I still…" Hearing her name humming overhead, the teen sniffed. "Just grab the springboard, okay?"
For the sake of argument, Jason just shrugged, paying no mind to the heat of the lights on his back as he pulled the springboard in place. No sooner had he stepped back, the girl was gunning for it. And try as he might, he couldn't stop the pull of his lips as he squinted up at her. So the bird can fly after all. But as he watched the teen twist and flip, rattling the bars with her connections, all Jason could see was that glassy eyed look plastered on her face. C'mon kid, get it together. He's not coming!
She made a reach for the high bar—pulling a gasp from the arena when her fingers came up short. The little blackbird was falling.
But what if I do fall?
Without enough time to react, Del braced herself for impact, waiting for the earth to beat the wind out of her lungs while everyone watched. She didn't expect to feel muscle and bone cushioning part of the blow as she tumbled end over end. It was all blurring together, the mats the flashes of bulbs off in the distance, the flesh of someone's arms as they attempted to right her spinning world.
So what. All that matters is that you get up and finish your routine. Score or no score. Right?
"Del, you alright? Del?" Jason.
"Right." Joints sore and jumbled, Delilah forced herself up, ignoring the throb that ran down her wrist. "I'm good. I'm good. I want another shot at it." She said with a hiss, aware that there was an official loitering closer to the setup.
"You won't get a score."
"I know." She uttered, taking Jason's hand as he ripped her off the floor the rest of the way. "I just want to finish." With the man's nod, the girl stepped back into position, lifting her arms to the air. I hope you're doing this for Delilah and no one else. "I am now, Dickybird. I am now." With a running leap onto the spring board, she flew for the bars, empty seats forgotten.
"He's wanted to go to Bludhaven before."
The food the girl was shoving down her gullet dropped like stones in her gut. "Why? Why didn't he?" She asked, muscles jolting as Jason's fork slid down to his plate with a clank. "I thought he was—"
"Happy?" With the word Jason sank back, all but melting into the chair across from her. "Yeah right." He hissed. "We've always been trying to crawl out from under someone else's shadow." He uttered, glancing at the girl who'd gone silent. "It's the one thing we have in common." He added. "C'mon, Pipsqueak. You know the answer. He stayed for you."
The fork in those long fingers slid down to her plate. "You might be a daughter of that Bat." He said, reaching for the crushed pack of cigarettes. "But you were practically raised by a Robin. Bruce had no business being a parent—he never wanted to be a parent but you came along anyway." He grumbled, popping an unlit cigarette between his lips.
"Sure that's not your own opinion?" Without hesitation, she snatched the lighter from him. "He tries."
"Maybe it is. Maybe you morphed him. Maybe an obnoxious little girl was able to do something that Dickhead and I never could…" He said, leaning forward to rip the lighter from her.
"Jealous?" Without warning, the girl reached over and pulled the unlit cigarette from his mouth, earning nothing but a grimace as she crushed the thing between her fingers.
"Of you? Hell no. You don't get it do you?" He asked, making a reach for his pack when the girl smacked her hand down on it first. "Del…who are you going to use the favor on? Dick? Or your dad? You can't save them both."
I was too hard on her… Jason sank down on the bench, unsure if the girl could feel the heat of the stadium lights on her back as she dipped her feet into the chalk. Who would she choose? The father who had to learn to love her? Or the big brother who'd made the sacrifices her father didn't know how to make?
"She's sucking more than normal." At the sound of the voice, Jason tilted back his head as a boy in a red hoodie scaled over the railing and dropped down on the bench beside him.
"Aren't you supposed to be tailing the lookalike?"
"He's…indisposed." The boy mumbled, lifting his hood as the girl in the black and blue leotard glanced over her shoulder. For the briefest of seconds she was still as stone. "You're not a very good coach." He noted, watching the girl bend at the starting line when she finally put her focus on the task at hand.
"Yeah, well, encouragement isn't my strong suit." Jason sighed, leaning forward as the stadium filled with the sound of her feet pounding on the mat. "You're not too bad at it." He added, not able to take his eyes off her as she hit the springboard.
"How do you figure?"
"You showed up." He said, aware he wasn't hearing a sound coming from the boy anymore; his eyes were locked on the body that was summersaulting in the air. Funny watching her reverse direction it was almost familiar. That's….
With the sound of her feet smacking to the floor, came the unsteady whoosh of breath as the girl lifted her arms to the air. Still and perfect. It was the only event she'd walk away from with a first place medal, but perhaps it would simply act as a marker for when the girl burst on scene. Despite the score she received for her floor event, she'd still managed to make the audience clap along. God, couldn't she hear the way they screamed when she landed her aerial skills?
And you think you can't tame Gotham?
"Third place on floor?" Damian grumbled, when a sweaty panting Delilah dropped down beside them. "Loser."
She grinned, until the boy reached for her arm, wringing a yelp out of her when he twisted it. "Ow, you jerk—"
"It's broken. Are you so stupid that you didn't notice?"
"How long? How long have you been-"
"Since the uneven bars?" Del whispered, ignoring the incredulous twist of Jason's face.
"You are an idiot." The man groaned, aware that Damian was rising to his feet.
"I've got a surprise for you, Loser. C'mon."
Shivering in her leotard, Del could only stand there in the doorway of her brother's hotel room. "Are you sure you can keep him busy until we're done?" At the sound of her crackly voice, the boy only sneered, pausing at the closet as Jason shut the door behind him.
"Are you really wasting my time with such stupid questions?" But instead of waiting for an answer, Damian yanked the door open, revealing a bloody lump of a man crammed in the tiny closet. Jason grinned.
"Ubu. Long time no see." He teased, easing down to his haunches as the man growled and groaned beneath his gags. "I'd say you look good but uh…"
"It's an improvement." Damian said dryly, tilting his head toward his sister who was all too quiet. "You know what I've done, don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Don't waste it."
Heart pounding, chest tight, Del could only count her breaths as they filled the bag around her head. "Sorry I had to do it this way." But the apology at her back did nothing to still the hammering in her chest. She couldn't see the light but oh she could feel it when he opened the trunk—freedom—warm and sticky and laced with salt. Ten minutes from the arena…maybe? One left turn and a couple of rights. No train tracks but some serious dips and a couple of rough roads.
"I couldn't be seen and he didn't want me to know where…I get it." She uttered, staggering forward as he drug her and Jason up a set of stairs and into a building. A building that had slick floors and smelled of leather and ink.
"Now behave yourself." Bird whispered, yanking the bag from her head, letting the teen scan around the large library with it's monsterous fireplace and tall windows. She'd look anywhere but at the men with guns who were leaning against the walls. AK-47's. Only the sound of a door coming open from beneath a set of winding stairs drug her eyes away.
There standing in the doorway was a mountain of a man, his small dark eyes on her like the sight of her was making him clench his jaw. "This—this is your niece? This girl is your blood?"
"Yes."
With a tilt of his head, Delilah could see the white lined scars on his face, the short cropped hair trailing down his skull as his eyes flicked from Bird to her and back again. "She doesn't look like you at all."
"Thank God for that. She's my sister's child."
"The one you gave my favor to?"
"The one and only…" Bird whispered voice tight. It was enough to make Delilah's finger's itch. He's nervous.
"Fine then. Come with me, Baby Bird." But as the girl stepped forward with Jason and her uncle in tow Bane held up one of his giant hands. "Just the girl."
"I can't let her-" But before Bane's eyes could narrow or Bird could finish his argument, Delilah willed her jellied limbs forward.
"I'll be fine." She muttered, feeling her breath catch as she stepped closer and closer to the man until she was following him into the small office. With a slam of the door, Delilah's spine shook.
"Or should I call you a bat?" He asked. "I know who you are, Delilah Wayne." He said, rounding the desk. There wasn't any time to look around the piles of books. "If I thought for one moment you would end up with…" But Bane just shook his head. "Sit."
"No, I'm fine thank-"
"Sit."
She sat, watching the man as he eased down behind the tiny desk. For a moment he said nothing. He simply regarded her, filling the room with the sound of his fingers tapping on the desk. "You're an avid reader, yes?"
"I am…" She uttered, taking a briefest glance around the room. "So are you it seems." She said forcing herself to swallow.
"Books are a gateway. They are more deadly than weapons." He said suddenly, lifting a small book from the stack. "What is it you want of me, Delilah Wayne?"
"I need your help. I-I don't really know where to begin—"
"Try the beginning."
"Okay…" The girl whispered, feeling the weight of his gaze as she forced herself to breathe. "Someone decided to use your venom in a case of product tampering." She said carefully, jolting as the man's fist landed on the table, sending books flying.
"My venom?!"
"Hundreds of people…are clinging to life." The girl uttered, trying not to pay any mind to the bulging veins in the man's face. "My mother was in the process of making an anti-venom before she died."
"And how did she—Bird."
"Probably." Del croaked, ducking under his gaze. Which choice are you going to make?
"And where is your father in this madness? Where is the Batman?"
"I don't know." She whispered. "That's a part of my problem. He's been taken and they put some freak with his face in his place. The league of Assassins is making a move. I want to stop them." As the words tumbled out of her mouth, Bane eased back into his chair. "I don't know why they're using your venom—"
"I think I do." He said, tilting his head at her. "Some time ago a man came to me. Same song and dance as always, wanted to get rid of the Bat. What do I care? It's been seventeen years. What do I care for the Batman's dirty city? Perhaps I offended him. How he would align with the League of shadows, I'm uncertain."
"Do you know who he was?"
"Hush. It was the only name he gave. No face either. Just bandages." The man closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. "You wish to find the Batman?"
Do I save Dad? Or Dick? Dad would choose Dick and all those people. He wouldn't hesitate.
Before she could stop herself, Delilah's mouth fell open. "Yes. Gotham needs my father back." She uttered, Swallowing at the words. "I need him back. I can't do this alone." But I'm not Dad.
"A difficult thing you ask of me." Bane murmured, watching the girl look down at her hands, face paling. "And how do you suppose we thwart the League of Shadows?"
To that the girl lifted her head. Her face was white as a sheet, and her hands were shaking but the words came out of her easily. "You were Ubu once, weren't you?"
"The girl has a plan."
"Yes. Yes the girl does."
I should've chose Dick. I should've asked him to help me with the anti-venom. I should've put everyone else first.
"You think any harder you'll blow a blood vessel."
Blinking, Del let her eyes focus on the doppelganger's fingers as he turned loose of his chess piece, earning a glare from the boy across the table. You're playing right into a trap.
"Was the competition that bad?" You have my father's face, but you're not him. "Checkmate."
"Wasn't at the top of my game." She said, sliding from her seat to cross the plane.
"Two out of three."
"No." Del grumbled, snatching Damian's seat as he rose to stretch. "I want a crack at him." She said flopping down. "Let me show you how you beat him."
"So much smack talk."
"I learned from Doc." She mumbled, fingers quickly righting the pieces. "And he always kicked your ass." But you don't play like Dad…do you? He was careful, calculating, not near as aggressive as her father may have been. There was finesse to the man—something that required more patience than even Bruce Wayne could muster. It's almost like…
"Do you know what those are?" At the sound of a voice, the child jolted, letting the stone queen hit the table. For a long moment she only looked up at him, those now familiar eyes so wide and deep. Her head shook, forcing the fine dark hairs to stick to her round cheeks. "Where's Mommy?" He asked, as the child crawled to her knees on the bench to point at the woman who was pacing with the phone glued to her ear.
Cheeks red, hair windswept, her eyes had gone dark like they always did when she was angry. Flustered and pacing with those dirty French words rolling of her tongue the woman still managed to captivate him. A gorgeous face with big heart and a good name, you couldn't do better than that. And like a fool you let slip right through your fingers! Or perhaps she'd captivated his mother most. The Devereux family had social standing, pedigree and above all—the cash to put their money where their mouths were—or most of them did anyway. It seemed like fate that Bailey Devereux and Marla Elliot saw the same doctors and attended the same cancer groups. Fate wouldn't be enough.
"She had to fight a dragon."
"I see." He uttered, seating himself across from the child. "I hear dragons are cranky creatures." That won a grin out of the girl. It was the kind of small toothed smile he imagined might've loosened his mother's grip—grip on her pocket book—grip on his life. But with the weight of those shimmering emerald eyes resting on him, Eliot simply blew out a breath and let his fingers go about setting up the pieces. "So then, would you like to learn how to play chess?"
The child was too young, too squirmy, but she was pleased and that in turn seemed to make her mother relax. Hell it even stopped her mouth long enough to fish a smile out of her. For just that moment he could almost imagine she was looking at him the way she always looked at Bruce.
The child wasn't so squirmy now. She was careful, deliberate and kind of cocky. "Your mother used to bite her lip all the time when she wasn't sure of something." He murmured, fingers going still as that gaze landed on him. You're cocky alright. Just like him.
"You don't know all my tells." She said plainly, letting her hand fish for the phone that was buzzing in her pocket. "Damian, take over for me. Don't screw it up. I got him right where I want him." She said peeling herself from her chair. "I've gotta take this."
"Probably your stupid boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend!" Without another word the teen slammed the divider behind her.
"Gotta hand it to that kid, he is smart."
"Please feel free to tell him. Maybe it'll inflate his ego so much his head'll explode." The girl said, leaning into the wall as she listened to the murmur of the plane. "What'cha got, Sam?"
"I was doing a little more digging, you know…on Mr. Collins?" When Sam's voice tapered off, Delilah had no choice but to wait for the girl to find her words again. "The removal of his organs wasn't just some hack-'em up kind of job. It was clean—like surgically clean. Whoever killed him had medical training of some kind and a damn steady hand."
The Joker couldn't make the shot…and if Clay Face was out…
"Sam…I know who it is."
"What's this?" He'd gone so still—like he dared himself not to take a breath when her little hands touched the chain that was peeking out from the collar of his shirt. With the cool stethoscope warming against her chest, gave the chain a tug, pulling a jade pendent free from its hiding spot.
"Delilah! Don't be rude. I'm sorry, Tommy she's just overly-"
But at her mother's scolding, the spell was broken, letting the doctor loosen as she turned the circular pendent over in her hands. "Curious." He murmured, pulling out the ear tips. "All men by nature desire knowledge. I don't think she's any different." With a sliver of smile, and an offering of the stethoscope, Del let the jade slip from her fingers. "It's jade. My mother gave it to me." He said simply, tucking the thing back into his shirt as the girl beamed at the sound of her own heartbeat.
"It's green. Just like Mama's dragon ring. It's got green eyes." The child chirped, legs swinging.
"Just like her. I think it sounds good today. What do you think?"
"I think it's good." With her nod of approval, Dr. Elliot rose from his stool, letting the girl fiddle with the instrument a little while longer as he faced the silent body at his back.
"Of course we'll have to monitor it as she grows…" He uttered, running a hand through his coppery hair. "My mistake."
"What?"
"They're a little more brown than green today."
"Tommy. Are you always paying that close attention?"
"Would I be a good doctor if I didn't?"
Good? Not anymore. But had he ever been? Was it all a ploy to get to this point? "What's wrong with you now?" Damian asked as the shadow of Wayne Manor began to stretch over the cab. I want to rip his face off. That's what's wrong. Without so much as a word, Delilah shoved herself from the car, half expecting the front door to come open and Jax to come rushing. But nothing happened.
Instead she heaved her duffel bag over her shoulder watching the imposter unfold himself from the taxi and stroll toward the door. Letting him lead the way inside, Delilah let her eyes adjust to the dimness of the foyer. "Why's it so dark in here? Alfred?! Jax?!" Nothing. Throwing her bag to the floor, the teen paused at the stairs. "Alright, Asshole. Where's Alfred?"
The man on the stairs paused, twisting about at last. "Excuse me?"
"Or would you rather I called you 'Doc'?" She called, spine shivering as a he put his hands together, filling the shadows with echo of a slow clap.
"Very good. I knew they were underestimating you."
"They?"
"Perhaps Clay Face was too sloppy." At the sound of the silken voice, Del's head snapped to the top of the stairs, but a word fell out of Damian's mouth first.
"Mother."
And there crumbled and gagged at her feet…was Alfred.
"I thought you'd be happier to see your mother." She purred, paying no attention to the squirming of a shriveled old man as she stepped over him and began her slow decent down the stairs.
"So what?! What's your part in this Doc?! Take my dad's face and you take the fortune?! Is that it?!"
"His fortune? You're thinking this is just about the money? Oh, no, it's much, much more than that." He said simply easing back down the stairs toward the girl. "Do you know what it's like being compared to him your entire life? He took everything from me—and everyone." He said, lifting the teen's chin. "You could've been mine. Should have been…but P couldn't leave things well enough alone."
My mother?
"I was slowly syphoning stocks from Wayne enterprises. That idiot didn't notice. But your mother did. I still don't know how she found my trail…but I knew after that she and I would never have a chance again. So to shut her up I tested some old research she'd showed me back in college."
Delilah's stomach clenched. "The venom—the zesti cola tampering…you—"
"It's kind of poetic really, knowing that her own research was killing her. If she'd just let me be the hero. Maybe things could've been different! But even in her state he was all that she asked for!"
"You-you let my mother die? You paid St. James and Gillespie to attack her—and you refused to render aid?! Are you telling me my mother could've—"
"If I couldn't have her, no one would. Not even his child."
"Del! No!"
But Damian's warning was too late. She wasn't even sure she could hear him over the scream that was tearing out of her when she leapt on the man, knocking him back on the stairs. "YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU!"
His fists were hard on her ribs, forcing the teen to grit her teeth as her fingers scratched and clutched around that familiar chain around his neck. "You killed so many people! What?! Were you trying to cover your tracks?!" She cried twisting the necklace until it bit into his neck. "You tried to kill me too." She hissed as he choked, shrugging Damian away as he reached for her. "But guess what?"
The second she bent down and put her lips to his ear, the thrashing beneath her stopped, if only for a second. "I'm not the damsel. I'm the mother fucking dragon."
"Del! Del, stop! You don't want to kill him!"
Jason?
Before the girl could even glance behind her, a pair of arms ripped her from Elliot's body, crushing her into their own. "Stop. You don't want to—trust me you don't want to."
"Let go of me! This is his fault! It's all his fault! He doesn't deserve to live! The monster who killed her doesn't deserve to live, remember?!" But as the words burst out of her, Jason's arms seemed to wrap tighter around her, holding her to his chest so she couldn't look at the shadows. She couldn't turn to the sound of quick feet or Elliot's gasps.
There's more. But how many more? "Jase…let me go." The plea was useless. He seemed to be melting around her, tight and unbreathing. "Jase? Wh-what are you doing?"
"Jason." At the sound of Talia's voice, his lung's collapsed beneath her.
"I remember." The whisper was warm, hot like the blade he jammed in her side. "I told you not to trust anyone."
"TODD! "
With another kiss of the blade, he shoved her back. She couldn't even remember what the stairs felt like when the rammed into her spine. Alfred. Finding his wide dark eyes, the man stopped struggling. It didn't stop Damian from yelling.
"Let go of me you ingsequerates! I'll kill you all! Starting with you Todd! You're a dead man! You betrayed her! You're dead! You hear me?! DEAD!"
"Oh, calm down Damian." His mother sighed, stepping over the girl and pool of blood that was leaking down the stairs. "Sacrifices had to be made."
"Get up, get up you idiot! No one puts you on the ground but me! Fight it! Don't you dare close your eyes! Fight it!" It's taking four people to hold him back. Damian…
"Enough with hysterics." Ra's. "Sedate the boy and let's be on our way. There's work to do." The man commanded, paying no mind to Elliot as he staggered to his feet. "Jason—get rid of these bodies. Elliot—don't you have a part to playing?"
"Yes. Yes I do."
"Then get to it. Fox will surely drag is feet if he suspects anything."
She couldn't make him out. The hair, the eyes, the wicked smirk—it was all blurring together. "I asked you once what you would be the next time I saw you. It seems you were nothing but a little girl who plays dress up."
A/N- There we go! I know it's been a long wait between chapters but let's be honest I was freaking out over this one. I'm still wondering if there's tiny bits of information that needed to go in here that I've forgotten. Especially where Jason is concerned. Everyone take a breath. There's only a couple chapters left. (+Epilouge) Hopefully I'll have all the loose ends tied up for you by the end.
Next Chapter- Lionheart
