Author's Note: Thank you to soccernin19 (All the interactions between characters were really fun to write so I'm glad you liked them!), Guest 1 (With Barbara and Jade giving them orders do you really blame them? And Bruce did word that horribly.), and IndiaMoore for reviewing the last chapter! I own nothing.
Pamela Isley smirked as Harley adjusted the last of the guard uniform. The pair of them would be driving straight into Belle Reve hoping that a breakdown in communication between Gotham and the Penitentiary would allow Harley to appear like someone escorting a new prisoner. It wouldn't be that far of a stretch; Poison Ivy was always escorted by female guards because of the stupid belief that the more deviously seductive plant gases and pollens she was rumored to have possessed wouldn't affect those bringing her in. Still having just one guard was pushing it. The two females had attempted to persuade Selina Kyle, the infamous Catwoman, to assist them but she had firmly refused. The conversation had ended with Selina saying, "I hope you understand why I can't wish you good luck." Both women had nodded and left without a fight. They knew that even though any relationship between Selina and Batman was long over, the thief cared for the Bat's children. And releasing the Joker could result in their injury or death.
One of the guards groaned on the ground and Ivy knocked him back out with a smooth kick. Harley smiled at her, looking surprisingly innocent without her usual garb. "Let's go," the former psychiatrist said, motioning towards the empty prison vehicle just waiting for them. Ivy smiled and headed for the back, ready to be locked up. This was definitely going to be a mission to remember.
Damian woke from his sleep choking on a scream. Ever since he'd watched that video memories had been coming back. Everything from being beaten near to death by Two Face to Deathstroke's brutal training and brainwashing was up for grabs. The result was a stream of nightmares that had him fighting down screams and soaked in sweat every time he managed to break free. Shivering under the suddenly too thin blankets, Damian studied the room. Sunlight seeped in under the thick dark curtains and spread gently across the cream colored walls. After all this time it still looked like a hotel room and the knew part of Damian that was very much Dick Grayson was very displeased about that.
The boy slid out of the bed, sweat still drying on his skin, and opened his closet to remove a fresh set of clothing. All his clothes looked the same, the League had little use for individualism, and part of him balked at that. Damian glared at the clothing, frustrated and overwhelmed, and then slammed the closet door. It was a stupid and immature thing to do. Worse yet, it didn't make him feel any better. Instead fury mixed with the fear and uncertainty, making his hands shake. Damian clenched those shaking hands into fists and backed away towards the bed. He steadied his breathing using meditation techniques and sat down on the edge of the bed. Once he was completely calm he began to consider his next move.
He could not continue on as he was before. The confident Damian Wayne who was the son of Batman and Talia al'Ghul was no more. He had died the moment Father-Bruce-had revealed the truth. What was left behind was a shaken and confused child-clone really-with far too much training to be anything but lethal. He was a tool that, should he fall into the wrong hands, was probably capable of taking down the entire Justice League. Keeping that in mind, Damian reached for his phone and brought up the number of the one person who the boy knew would give him an honest opinion. He pressed the call button and lifted the ringing phone to his ear, waiting nervously for the person on the other end to answer.
"What do you want Demon Spawn?" Timothy Drake snarled over the phone line. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."
"Drake..." Damian began and then trailed off before starting again. "Tim, we need to talk."
There was a long silence and then Drake said, "Give me a minute and I'll cal you back." He then hung up before the younger boy, or was he the older one now, could respond.
Dick woke from a dead sleep, heart pounding in terror. It took him a moment to realize the terror wasn't coming from him. On the other end of the couch where they'd settled after Batman's return from patrol so they could talk about their newest problem, Jason groaned and peeled open eyelids to stare at his older brother. "Wha' time is it?" he slurred out and Dick shrugged at him, allowing his eyes to drift closed. It had been a long time since there'd been anyone on the other end of the bond so feeling it come alive now was like realizing he'd been missing a limb for half his life. He struggled to remember how to reach out and nudge Damian, hopefully so he could calm the boy down.
Reaching out through the bond was harder than Dick remembered but at the time when it had first been active he'd been trapped in a test tube with nothing to do and Damian had been reaching back. Apparently making a one sided connection after years of not speaking to anyone that way was extremely difficult. "Wait a minute," Jason called, suddenly sounding more awake. "Did I dream it all or did we seriously have a conversation about you having a clone last night?"
Dick groaned in frustration and opened his eyes, ignoring the link for the time being. "You didn't dream it." Jason glared at Dick from the other end of the couch as if it were his older brother's fault that they had yet another crisis to deal with on top of the fact that Scarecrow had broken out of Arkham and Bruce was dead.
"Do you and B plan this crap on purpose?" Jason demanded. "Because this is terrible timing." Dick shot his younger brother an unamused look and Jason smirked. Dick growled, seriously considering trying to throw his younger brother across the room, and Jason held his hands up in surrender. "No need to get your underwear in a knot Golden Boy. I'm just kidding." A pause and then, "So what are you going to do?"
"We," Dick said pointedly. "Are going to talk to Damian."
"Do I have to be involved in this?"
"Yes," Dick replied, tone uncompromising.
"Fine," Jason groaned. "But coffee first." The younger man stumbled towards the kitchen before Dick could even think of an argument against that. With a sigh he closed his eyes again and reached out over the bond, deciding to try and reach Damian mentally while he waited.