"I won't tell you nothin'!" shouts the Blackgate thug. His attempts to sound intimidating might have been admirable to some, but regardless, there is an unmistakable hint of fear in his voice that Batman can't help but almost smirk at.
"That's what your friend said before you," says Batman. He moves closer to the edge of one of the Arkham Mansion's balconies, off of which he is dangling the thug by his ankle. His grip on the man purposefully slips a tad, and the thug lets out an involuntary yelp. "Before my arm got tired and I accidently let him go."
Blatant fear sparks in the thug's eyes now. "Y-you're lying!" He glances at the grounds below, searching for any sign of the previous man Batman had already interrogated.
"I've got one more of you dirtbags left to question after I'm done here," continues Batman. "So I'm not all that concerned if I have to…move on from you." His hand loosens just a bit more.
"Y-you won't drop me," sputters out the man. "You don't kill! You don't kill!"
"This height won't kill you," says Batman. "But it will hurt like hell, and break multiple bones."
"You wouldn't," the man says, his voice breaking on the last word. "You wouldn't!"
Batman raises an eyebrow. Then he opens his hand, and the thug tumbles through the air.
The man screams, flailing about frantically as he plummets towards the concrete. Then he feels something wrap around his ankle, yanking him upwards and onto another balcony. He hits the surface with a hard thud, groaning in pain.
A second later Batman lands beside him. The man glances up at Batman in fear, clutching his ankle that's enwrapped in a heavy cord, the end of which is attached to a Batarang.
"Okay, okay!" exclaims the man, scooting back a few inches. "Just…just stop!"
"I'm on a tight schedule," growls Batman. "Start talking, or I'll drop you again."
The man nods his head shakily. "W-we…we're supposed to bring the doctors to Quinn. She's hiding out in the storage facility, by the gardens."
"What about the Joker? Where is he?"
"I don't know," gasps out the man. "I swear – they wouldn't tell us."
"And Robin?" Batman demands. He bends down, wrapping his hand in the front of the man's shirt and pulling him up so that their faces are only inches from each other. "What have they done with him?"
"I-I…I'm not sure. No one's heard really anything; Joker's hasn't said much about the kid."
"You're going to have to do better than that," Batman snarls.
"He has to be with Joker or Quinn," the man insists. "There's no one else they'd trust with him – I'm sure of it. That's all I know, I swear."
Batman studies the man. "I believe you." The next instant, Batman thrusts his fist forward, knocking out the thug in a single punch. As he cuffs the man to the balcony railing, the French doors leading into the mansion open, and Nightwing and the Gotham Knight step outside.
"Are the other two detained?" Batman asks.
Nightwing nods. "Yeah, including the first one you 'dropped' off the rooftop. They aren't going anywhere."
"So did you get it?" the Gotham Knight cuts in impatiently.
"Harley's in the underground storage facility bordering the Botanical Gardens," says Batman. "Dr. Young should be there, and there's a good chance Robin is too."
Hope floods Nightwing's expression at that, and the Knight's body language alone tells Batman that the same emotion is running through him.
Quickly, Nightwing pulls up his copy of the digital layout of Arkham's grounds. "Okay," he says, squinting at the image. "It looks like the best way for us to get into the facility is by taking a back staircase on the western side of the Botanical Gardens. To get to it you just go through a set of trapdoors built directly into the ground." Reverting the hologram back into his gauntlet, Nightwing glances up at Batman. "Seems simple enough." Then he turns and jumps off of the balcony, shooting his grappling hook at a building in the direction of the gardens.
The Knight shrugs, and then he and Batman follow, simultaneously launching themselves into the air.
/
It's fairly deserted to the west of the Botanical Gardens, so they don't run into too much trouble as they make their way across the grounds. But as they approach the entrance to the storage facility, there's the distinct sound of muffled voices. Batman ushers Nightwing and the Gotham Knight behind a tall wall of bushes, and together they wait.
The trapdoors leading to the staircase shift, and a second later are pushed open from the inside. As the heavy metal clangs to the ground, a shadowed figure emerges, followed closely by two more. Two of the figures are clearly men, and bulky ones at that, but the third – who is being held tightly against the second man – is much shorter and slimmer in stature.
"Joker said to move her to the Penitentiary!" says one of the men. "So that's what I'm gonna do. After what Joker did to Carl and Antonio earlier, I'd rather not piss him off."
"She looks like crap though," the other one says. "If she dies on us, that will definitely piss Joker off."
"That's Dr. Young with them," says Batman, careful to keep his voice low. A frown crosses his face as he gets a better look at the woman.
It's clear that she's already been tortured – mercilessly. Dr. Young's face is littered with bruises and cuts, as are her arms. Her joints are swollen from broken bones, and one of her eyes is bloodshot from a popped blood vessel. Also suffering from a severe limp, she's having a hard time keeping up with the men.
Nightwing and the Gotham Knight look at each other grimly, and together they pull out Batarangs. A second later, both weapons are flying through the air.
They hit their marks perfectly; the two thugs barely make a sound as they drop into crumpled heaps. Dr. Young is pulled down with them, and she lets out a pained cry as she strikes the ground.
Immediately, Batman, Nightwing, and the Gotham Knight move out into the open and rush over to her. Batman reaches her first; carefully, he pulls her away from the Blackgate men and cradles her head in his lap.
"Dr. Young?" he says urgently.
Dr. Young's eyes dart about for a moment, unable to focus. They finally land on Batman, and upon recognizing who is holding her, she lets out a breathy sob. "B-Batman…"
Dick shifts closer to the doctor and pulls out a roll of gauze.
"No." Dr. Young shakes her head. "It won't…matter. I've…multiple broken bones…internal bleeding for...a while now…"
Jason is suddenly very glad he has a helmet covering his face. As he stares down at yet another victim of Joker's torture a myriad of emotions swells in him, making it hard for him to concentrate.
Tears are dripping down Dr. Young's face, mixing in with the blood there. "I'm s-so sorry. I wanted to stop the experiment, but…Joker…"
Batman rests a hand on the side of her head. "It's alright."
"He wants an army." Dr. Young coughs, and blood splatters from her mouth, speckling her already stained clothes. "But he needed…the formula…"
"It's okay," Dick says. "We know you burnt the notes."
Dr. Young gives another sob. "No. No, Joker…h-he got it from me. I tried…I tried to so hard…"
Jason turns away from a moment, digging his hands into the dirt he's kneeling upon. Dick glances up at Jason worriedly, but Bruce stays focused on Dr. Young, keeping his voice steady and earnest as he speaks. "We'll stop him. I promise."
"There's a lab," continues Dr. Young. "In the gardens…" She coughs again, and flinches at the pain the movement brings. "I…I'm so sorry…"
"You've got to hang on, Dr. Young," Dick says. "We're going to get help."
But Dr. Young doesn't seem to be listening. She draws in a ragged breath, staring at nothing in particular as another wave of pain rolls through her. Then, with a soft sigh, her eyes slowly close. She clings to Batman's cape for a moment longer, and then her body falls limp in his arms.
Dick looks at Bruce, shock and sorrow mixing in his eyes. "Batman…"
"There was nothing we could have done," Bruce says solemnly. He closes his eyes for a moment, and then gently lays the doctor's body on the ground. "Joker's torture had been too much; her body simply couldn't handle it."
Jason stiffens at that.
"Knight?" Dick asks tentatively. He lowers his voice significantly, though the concern in it only heightens. "Jay?"
Jason doesn't speak for a moment. "I'm fine," he finally mutters.
Bruce hesitates, then lays a hand on Jason's arm. "Jason, there's nothing we could have done."
Jason nods, still facing away from them. He takes in a shuddering breath, and then stands. "We need to get Tim back – now."
Dick glances at Bruce apprehensively, and together they stand. Without a word, Jason begins descending the staircase, Dick and Bruce close behind him.
They barely reach the bottom of the stairs before they see a door further down the hallway open up. Out walks Harley Quinn, twirling one of her pigtails between her fingers and looking fairly pleased with herself.
Batman immediately reaches for a Batarang, but before he even finishes taking it out, a guard emerges from the same room Harley had come out of, pulling a young boy with him.
"Robin!" Jason shouts.
Harley and the guard snap their heads towards the staircase, surprise on their faces as they see who is standing there. Tim is unable to do little more than shift his gaze to them, as he is being held in a tight chokehold by the guard. He tries to struggle against the burly arm wrapped around his neck, but it's obvious that a lot of his oxygen is being cut off; already, his face is bright red.
"Oh, shucks!" Harley pouts. "I thought we were in the clear."
"Tell your goon to let him go, Harley," Dick snarls, holding out his Escrima sticks. "Before this becomes a lot more messy than it needs to be."
"Oh, but I like messy!" says Harley. "It's just so much more fun!" Then, her movements surprisingly quick, she pulls out a small hand grenade and yanks out the pin. Giggling hysterically, she chucks it directly at the three.
"Move!" Bruce shouts. Spinning around, he jumps forward, engulfing Jason and Dick in his cape as he shoves them to the floor.
The grenade explodes in the air, throwing the three back against the staircase. They take a second to recover, and then scramble to their feet to see Harley, the guard, and Tim disappear around the corner up ahead of them. With Batman in the lead, they sprint down the hall.
The storage facility is a little more than a single corridor lined by small rooms, so there really isn't anywhere for Harley to go except forward. Which is what she does, until the hallway finally ends by opening up into a large equipment transfer room. Crates and boxes are pushed up to either of the side walls, and on the far side of the room is a large elevator, towards which Harley and the thug are dragging Tim. Upon bursting into the room, Bruce throws a Batarang at the elevator's control panel, smashing it and rendering it useless. He, Dick, and Jason continue running forward, not slowing even as Harley spins around and pulls out a brightly painted gun, firing at them.
Her clumsy aim gives them plenty of room to dodge the bullets, and Dick easily knocks the gun from her hands as Jason and Bruce launch themselves at the guard holding Tim.
The thug throws Tim aside as Batman flies at him, fists raised and a furious snarl on his face. Jason abandons the fight without hesitation to grab Tim, yanking him away from the chaos and pulling the both of them to the floor.
"Robin? Robin?" Jason asks desperately, placing his hands Tim's shoulders to steady the boy. "Say something, buddy."
Tim is gasping and coughing wildly as he strains to draw in breaths of air. But he gradually calms, and his body shudders in exhaustion as he raises his gaze to Jason.
"Kn…Knight?" he whispers hoarsely.
"Yeah, man," Jason chokes out happily. He presses one hand to the side of Tim's face, running his thumb against the dirt and sweat smudged there. "You're okay. You're alright, we've got you."
By now the room has gone mostly quiet, and all Jason needs is a quick glance over his shoulder to see Harley and her guard slumped up against the wall, unconscious. Bruce and Dick are hurrying to their side, and soon Bruce is taking Tim into his arms, clutching the boy to him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Tim," he says quietly. He wraps his hand around the back of Tim's head, pressing his son's face into the crook of his neck.
"S'okay, Bruce," Tim says, his voice muffled. "Not your fault."
Bruce heaves in a deep breath and pulls away, studying Tim's face with concern. But before he can say anything else, Dick leans forward and gives Tim a fierce embrace of his own.
"Dammit, Tim," he manages to get out. "Don't ever scare me like that again."
"Sorry," smiles Tim. Then he winces, moving away from Dick's touch. "Ow…" he mutters, glancing down at his left arm.
Jason's eyes widen at the sight of the makeshift splint. "What happened?" he asks. A sudden hardness takes hold of his voice. "Did they do this to you? Did they?"
Tim shakes his head. "No, it happened when I fell down the air shaft." He coughs again, grimacing as the action disturbs his already raw throat.
Bruce pulls out a hydration pill and gives it to Tim, who takes it gratefully. Upon swallowing it a pained expression flashes across his face, but he seems to relax somewhat after a few seconds pass.
"What else did they do, Tim?" Jason presses, the fury in his tone almost palpable. "Did they do anything else to you?"
"No," Tim says wearily, trying to look as nonchalant as possible so as not to further upset Jason. "Not really."
"Let me see your wrist," Bruce says. Tim obediently lifts his arm, and Bruce carefully takes the broken joint in his hands to examine it. "Who splinted it?" he asks.
"Dr. Young," Tim answers.
Jason and Dick glance at each other in surprise.
"What?" asks Tim. "You know her?"
Dick bites his lip, hesitant to answer. "She…she's dead."
A sudden, deep sadness sinks into Tim's eyes. He nods, then drops his gaze to the splint, staring at it solemnly. Slowly, Dick reaches out and lays a hand on Tim's shoulder. Tim doesn't shrug him off, but he certainly doesn't lean into the touch.
Bruce keeps his attention on Tim's wrist, which he begins to unwarp. Tim flinches harshly as Bruce works, but Dick and Jason edge closer, and their presence steadies Tim somewhat as Bruce works on making a sturdier and cleaner splint from the medical supplies in his utility belt.
Soon the new splint is in place, and Bruce gives Tim a pain-reliever pill. Its effects aren't as fast as the hydration pill, but Tim doesn't complain as Bruce goes on to check his other injuries.
"The wrist is the worst of it," Bruce finally concludes. "There's not much I can do for the black eye right now. I know it must hurt to keep on the domino mask, but I have to insist that you do so until we're off the island."
Tim nods. "I wasn't planning on taking it off," he says, giving a weak smile.
Bruce is silent, and an odd look crosses his face – guilt, or unease, perhaps. He gives Tim's shoulder a gentle pat and stands, helping the boy to his feet. Dick and Jason rise as well, both turning to look at Harley and the thug's limp forms.
Jason sneers at the sight. "What should we do with them?"
"Lock them in separate storage rooms," Bruce says. "It's the best we can do for now." Frowning in distaste, he walks over to Harley and crouches down in front of her, studying her costume closely.
"What are you looking for?" asks Dick. He steps closer to Tim, allowing the younger boy to hold onto his shoulder for support.
"An Arkham security card," muses Bruce. "She should have one somewhere on her…ah." Reaching out, he plucks the card from the front pocket of Harley's costume. He straightens and pulls Harley's body off of the ground, slinging her over his shoulder. "Jason, get the guard and follow me."
Walking over, the first thing Jason does is roughly tug off the man's boots, which he then tosses to Tim. "They're probably a bit too big," says Jason. "But it's better than nothing." Then he grabs onto one of the guard's ankles and drags the man across the room, looking thoroughly unconcerned as he follows Bruce into the storage facility's hallway. Bruce chooses one of the closer rooms to put Harley in, laying her on the floor carefully, while Jason unceremoniously dumps the guard in a room a little further down. Tempted to smash the man's face in with his foot, Jason pointedly looks away from the thug as he shuts the door, stepping aside so Bruce can lock it with the security card.
"So," Dick says cheerfully, having followed Bruce and Jason into the hallway with Tim. "Who's up for a stroll through the gardens?"
"As long as there's some form of payback involved, hell yeah," replies Jason.
Tim smirks, rolling his eyes.
Bruce eyes the three of them sternly. "Just be sure to –"
"Be cautious, stay by you, and stay clear of ugly clowns," Dick interrupts. "Got it." Still holding onto Tim, Dick gives Jason a light smack on the shoulder as they move past him. "Let's go mess with a lunatic's lab."