Reason for the Season

It was a walk of shame that was done with her head held high. You did not get to a position of power and show weakness, a lesson Sawyer had learned a long time ago. This came before Gotham, before Metropolis, and even before there was a Blue Angel in the sky. Perhaps this was a role she was prepared for though in the most unlikely of ways.

The summons had come, predictably, and so she was heading for the mayor's office. Sebastian Hady was still in office and he was looking to stay there with reelection on the horizon. This meant keeping as steady of a ship as he could and any trouble now could be pinned on him.

Or blamed, as the case may have it.

Sawyer was ready with some of the preliminary results of the investigations, and the theories behind them would be kept out of Hady's ear. There needed to be substantial proof before even voicing any to him. A politician wanted certainty and guarantees first, and middling theories were not those. For opponents looking to smear, on the other hand, a gold mine and since when had facts mattered anyway?

Informing Hady was quick. One point in his favor was that he was willing to listen first before going straight to blustering. Then again, he had handpicked her, and so perhaps that was a sign of ownership on his part.

"Two bombs, both on the same night, demolishing two random buildings," Hady summed up once she had finished. "I don't need to say that this is not the best time of year for this."

It was never a best time of year for any bombing.

"It's the holidays, it's cold, and people want to be safe and home. Bombings are the last thing on anyone's minds. So what have you found out about them?" Hady continued. "Everyone wants answers. So do I."

"Forensics will be examining what we believe to be the remains of the bombs. Arson is going to be combing through the wreckage. It's still too early to come to any conclusion, so jumping to one would be ill-advised," Sawyer stated. "There is also the matter of the massacre at the Egyptian. The break-in occurred while the fires were still burning."

"Oh, so two bombings and a massacre. Around Christmas no less." Hady was sounding a little snarky there. "Tell me you have a suspect. Something. Anything. Anything to keep the press at bay and the people from panicking. This is not a time for another crisis."

Happy to agree with that last part. However, there was no way to tell how big this would go. Was there a possibility to stop something big that was in the works? Hopefully, but history said otherwise.

"Sit down." While it sounded like an invitation and the hand gesture was offering her a choice of seats, it was anything but. Sawyer had remained standing, as if waiting to leave as soon as possible so she could get back to her job. The veiled order hinted that that was not happening any time soon.

So the Commissioner took a seat while the Mayor stood up from his, moving to the nearest window. The blinds were opened, and outside was a winter wonderland, white blanketing so much while cleared out for day-to-day traffic. Icicles peeked from above and overcast blanketed the sky above. Whether they would have another snowfall in the day or later at night was anyone's guess.

"It's the season to be jolly, Sawyer. What's there to be jolly about?" Hady asked rhetorically. "Just when things were calming down. When nightmares finally stop rampaging on the streets. Scandals coming to a low. Now this. I don't know about you, but I am tired of these events. Gotham is tired of them. The people need something to hope for."

Much of Hady's body remained still, but his head had turned enough to eye her. "I'm going to give them something to hope for. It may not be much, but the Annual Christmas Tree Lighting ceremony is one of those long-standing traditions. We're going to make sure that goes off without a hitch. Bombings and massacres may bring panic, but the people looking for a distraction will get one. I want there to be increased security for the event. You have several days to get everything arranged and in order. The only bang I want to end this year with is when the ball drops December 31st. Move as many resources as you need to solve the bombings and massacres as quickly as possible, preferably before the lighting ceremony, but I know the odds."

Sawyer shifted in her seat. "Perhaps canceling the lighting ceremony would be better."

"No. It goes as planned, along with all the normal festivities. We will deliver on a normal, boring, Christmas holiday. The worst has already past with Black Friday sales. The remainder of the year ends in weeks. We keep this together and keep the illusion everything is under control."

That was a very curious use of the word "we." As Dan used to say, "we" always meant "you" when it came from the mouth of a politician. Saying that out loud would not make things easier for her. It was part of the game, the one that commissioners had to play whether they wanted to or not.

"I've made my thoughts known," Sawyer said instead. "I will get the arrangements made and have security increased by the time of the ceremony. Men on the ground, snipers placed, bring in a few of the dirigibles if you would like. I'll need you to get my officers authorized for holiday pay for this."

"Done." A hand now waved her away. "I'll get the treasury to make it happen. No matter what, nothing happens."

A dismissal if she ever saw one. Getting up, the Commissioner took her leave. At least it wasn't yelling, but being ordered around did not sit well with her.

While it was understandable about wanting to end the year quietly, still trying to keep up appearances and being bombastic while murderers and bombers were running loose on the street did not sound like a good idea. Wrapping this up quickly was one thing she did agree with Hady on, but the how was elusive. Hopefully in the time she had been here, someone uncovered a lead or several.

Hopefully.

You would think that the morning sun would raise the temperature up, but not this morning. Chill still ruled the air and height did not help with that. This was Redbird's intention as he commandeered a very skittish Colin.

The boy had tried to keep mum and then slip off when the orphanage's Sisters began their routine wake up and call for breakfast. There was no point in drawing the Sisters' attention to him, so the young vigilante allowed the redhead this out, but it was just a stay of execution. When Colin had tried to sneak his way to school, he had relocated the orphan, and while common, a rooftop would serve his purposes.

The boy was trapped up here, not knowing how to get down and there were no fire escapes either. He was all Redbird's and the vigilante planned to capitalize on it.

"Why are you doing this?" Colin asked, crouching down on the roof and holding onto his backpack. While there were the minimal of school supplies in that pack, Redbird knew there was more in there, such as a coat, a hat, and brass knuckles. The pants Colin was wearing were deliberately loose, most likely to accommodate any sudden increases in mass.

Redbird had taken position next to the boy, arms crossed over his chest. "Doing what is right. You've been breaking the law, I have to turn you in now, don't I?" Mother would not like the use of contractions but what she did not know would not hurt her.

"But…you're doing the same thing," Colin pointed out, hugging his backpack closer to himself.

"I have training," the vigilante quickly excused. "I have my father's blessing as well. You have neither, and if allowed to continue, you may break Father's one rule and will have to be put down."

Colin frowned, then looked up at him. "Who's your father?"

It took an effort of will to hide the grimace. "I am the son of Batman. His law is the only one I need to follow."

"When did Batman have a kid? Does he have a wife? Why does no one know about this?" Blue eyes were widening with interest, the normal fervor that anyone who followed Father's exploits possessed.

However, it was interrupting what Redbird felt was the proper progression of this situation. At the same time, verifying his lineage was a priority.

"Eleven and a half years ago, he is not married but that will change if I have anything to say about it, and it is knowledge that everyone will know in time. Just know I am his son and—"

"You must be Batboy!"

"—what?"

"The one with the Batclan!" Colin exclaimed, eyes practically sparkling in excitement until confusion overtook it. "Uh, where are your bats? Oh, wait, not baseball bats but bats like the animal. Still, nothing wrong with baseball bats."

"I am not Batboy." The venom he expressed when speaking that stupid name… "I am Redbird."

"Oh. Well, that is a better name," Colin admitted, eyes lowering. "And that explains the R right there."

There was no need for a reminder that this uniform had been commissioned for someone else and needed to be refitted for his body size. "Knock off the dumb act. Will you be able to turn yourself in and claim responsibility for all of the assaults? Or do I have to do so by force? As you can see, I can make you do whatever I want. Consider this a bone I'm giving you."

Blue eyes returned to his masked ones. As if taking his advice, Colin said slowly, "You want to bring me to the police and you'll tell them…what? Aren't they looking for someone big? Bigger than me?"

"I saw you pack that stupid coat of yours and those brass knuckles. I think the police would be very interested in those," Redbird countered, looming over the other boy.

"I could say I found them in a trashcan." A pair of shoulders shrugged.

"And I could tell them about your metagene." Did the redhead really think he could beat him at this game?

"I could say I shoot laser beams out of my eyes."

"I can tell them about the Venom."

"Don't they already know about that? Aren't they going after Merrymaker because he kidnapped and drilled a hole in my head? They should already know. It doesn't prove anything."

The back and forth was getting on Redbird's nerves, however that did not mean that the orphan was not tearing apart his arguments. Only Redbird had witnessed the reversion, knew about the metagene, and everything else that could connect Colin to the assaults. That meant he would have to give testimony, and implicate himself as a lawbreaker. He knew about Gotham's laws, he just didn't care about them because if they were so important, then his father would not be breaking them.

"I really need to be getting to school," the orphan said, shuffling to get back onto his feet. "Can you get me down? I'm really late."

"Not until I figure out what to do with you," Redbird retorted, unwilling to surrender. He would not slink back to the Usurper's base a failure, not now or ever.

Colin gave a sigh before saying, "Can you knock it off already, Damian? This isn't funny."

His body froze up, but he managed to keep his facial features hard. What? When did…? This orphan hadn't…!

The shorter boy peered up at him, his eyes seemingly older than his age. "I just met you yesterday, then I meet you again last night. Hard to tell because I was different heights but now that I'm right next to you, I know it's the same. Maybe the boots give you another inch. You talk the same too. You don't change your voice either. Skin is the same, hair is the same, you're really new to this superhero thing, aren't you?

"Maybe if I had met you before I was kidnapped, it would be different. After the Venom, I don't feel the same. Before it was like I was seeing, hearing, feeling everything, and the littlest thing would make me instantly mad. I don't get mad anymore. I can hide it better. I don't know why. Everything is not as bad or all over as it used to be. I sometimes feel smarter than I am. So I see things that I didn't see before. I know superheroes, they're one of my most favorite things in the world. I'll never get enough and I want to know everything about them. That's why I know you're the kid from yesterday, Damian. Things may not be as bad but that doesn't mean I still don't see all the little things anymore."

With each point, Redbird had to resist reacting. From wanting to stand taller, to reach towards his neck, and even combing fingers through his hair, it was as if every single one was an attack that he was helpless to avoid.

Naturally, from his research on Venom's effects, he recalled that it was not only musculature it had an effect on. The brain was also affected, and from what Colin was saying, he had experienced a mitigation in his Autism symptoms after his injection. Some aspects of the neurodivergent disorder were still present, allowing the boy some deductive reasoning skills by all appearances.

Defeat was not an option. There had to be something. Think, Damian, think. What did you see? From chasing this boy all over the slums of Gotham, what did you see? Interventions, sneaking around an orphanage, assaults, patrolling, sneaking…

"Do little things also include the orphanage?" Redbird asked, his voice lighter than he anticipated.

Colin frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"You are right that if I tell the police about you, they wouldn't believe me. I do not think the nuns in the orphanage would either. But…if they were clued in, perhaps the Mother Superior even? To check on you when you are out on the street, that would cause problems for you, wouldn't it?"

Thin arms hugged the backpack even tighter. "You wouldn't."

"I know who you are and the people who have influence over you. You are not worried about the police, it is the nuns. I do not have to tell them everything, only that you are not where you are suppose to be," he continued ruthlessly. "If I hear anything about any more assaults with your M.O., I will take action. You stay in your room at night."

Blue eyes were wide, pupils shrunken. "Why are you doing this? I just want to help."

Redbird leaned forward, Colin shrinking before him. "It's not enough to want to help. You have no training. All you can do is punch. We get it, you are branding them as abusers. You are just one wrong move away from getting that orphanage burned to the ground, so give it up while you are ahead."

As he straightened his posture, the little redheaded orphan asked, "Why are you doing this?"

Had he not just answered that question? Was the boy simple in his thinking?

"I already—"

"No, why are you doing this?" the redhead interrupted him, his voice surprisingly forceful. "I'm trying to protect kids who can't protect themselves. You're telling me I can't do it anymore. But why are you different? Why do you get to fight?"

Shoulder squared, arms uncrossed only for gloved hands to place themselves on his hips, arms akimbo. "I have the training. I have the discipline. I have been preparing my whole life for this, to fight at my father's side. That is all the reason I need."

Colin's face twisted into an expression that Redbird had never seen before. It was hard to describe it, but in the grand scheme, it was something to put away and ignore. It held no importance.

"It doesn't sound like you're fighting for the right reasons," Colin softly.

Now he was irritated at that comment. "What about my reasons that they are not 'right?'"

Blue eyes flickered downwards, thin arms loosened their grip on the backpack they held. "It doesn't sound like you're fighting for others. It's like…it's like you do it for yourself. That just seems wrong."

"I was not aware I needed your approval," the young vigilante snarked.

A mop of red hair shook from side to side. "You don't need mine. But you need Batman's don't you?"

How was it this kid could strike him in ways that went deep? Redbird opened his mouth to retort, but could not find any words to speak.

"Why does Batman fight?" Soulful blue eyes looked back up to him. "I hope my reason is close to his, because why else would he try to save me from Merrymaker? Tell me this, Damian, would you have tried to save me too?"

He was determined to say the truth, to tell this orphan—Colin, that he would…that he…that he would have…would he have? Father would do it, do it in a heartbeat, so that had to mean he would and yet…and…yet…

Would he have?

Cassandra stared at the monitor of her computer. The desktop was up, but she had none of the programs running. That was just as well as her mind wasn't on work.

She was still on last night, with that Riddler-knockoff escaping her and the Batclan due to that sudden bombing that happened right in front of them. The tracer Spoiler had planted on the man was no longer active after they had left the bombing scene, which was just another frustration on top of the one between her father and that cat woman person.

She had been so worried when she heard he had been trapped. Finding him in a burning hallway with a woman, nearly kissing each other, well, that was infuriating. All of that concern wasted for that?

Her father really needed to keep his bat in his belfry. She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but Bluebird had said something about that last night and it seemed to hit the nail on the head.

So she had turned her attention to Cluemaster. Upon seeing they no longer had a signal on their tracer, they had contacted Oracle to see if she could pick up anything. Unfortunately, the tracer was no longer active, which meant one of two things: one, it had been damaged during Cluemaster's escape, or two, he had found it and destroyed it. Currently, Oracle was working on figuring out where the tracer had stopped sending out a frequency so that way they had some starting point to begin looking for this guy.

So yeah, last night was frustrating. Coming into her day job wasn't helping matters either. She was just waiting for her boss, "Mr. Swanson," to come tell her what she was supposed to do because she simply couldn't be trusted to do things the way she had been taught. Yes, that was sarcasm.

And as she waited, she tried plotting the patrol the Batclan would perform. Cluemaster was their case, and she wasn't going to turn it over to the Birds or Batman, not after seeing the perp at the jewelry store. This was not a man worthy of having a visit from her father. Damian perhaps, but not him.

The door to Mr. Swanson's office suddenly flew open, causing the dark-haired girl to turn her head to look. Swanson was a middle-aged man with a bad combover, and a portly stomach. Today, he was dressed in a thick turtleneck that hid his bulging belly, but did nothing to hide his shame on his balding head. There was already a grumpy look on his face as he took a step out of his office, arms loaded with files.

Files he promptly lost his hold on and dropped onto the floor.

There was something Harper and Stephanie had told her not too long ago, something called Murphy's Law. It went something like if something could go wrong, it will. This was a prime example as the moment the folders hit the floor, papers exploded out of them, becoming a tidal wave of single sheets that spread all over.

"Goddamn it!" Swanson cursed as he dropped to one knee and began trying to clean the mess up. Cassandra stared at him for a moment before she stood up and knelt down, picking up pieces of paper and stacking them together.

"You're mixing them up," Swanson grumbled as he eyed her.

"They're already mixed up," she replied.

"Did I ask for your opinion? If you're going to do your job, then at least try to do it competently and get the same papers together."

Cassandra bit her tongue. Anything she said aside from "Yes, Sir," would get her into trouble. She knew this instantly. Yet, she wanted to tell this guy he was the one that messed up, not her, and she was only being nice in helping. While the truth, Swanson was held in higher regard and would be more believed than her.

"If you like, I will clean this up for you," she said instead. "I'll ensure each file is complete."

Swanson stared at her before he stood up. "If I find one page out of place, it's your ass," he told her, then promptly went back into his office, slamming the door shut.

Dick…

Yeah, she knew she had volunteered to do a bunch of busy work for an ungrateful ass, but at least she would be doing something. Lifting up the pages she had already collected, she skimmed over them before determining they seemed to be from the same report. It also helped that there were page numbers in the bottom right corner, and she had started somewhere in the middle of the report.

She did this over and over, snatching up a group of papers, looking at them to determine what their subject was, and then placing them into a neat stack on her desk. She had seven of them after half an hour of doing this.

As she lifted up some more sheets, she found a couple of them were spreadsheets, a grid with various numbers contained in boxes. It was something she had seen while working for Lucius when he wanted her to make copies for a pending business meeting. Usually these spreadsheets were about finances, or inventories and the like. Seeing dollar signs, she figured this spreadsheet was financial as well.

However, she paused. The numbers she was looking at, something looked…off. She wasn't entirely certain why.

Something was going off in her head. Her eyes glanced to Swanson's office door, checking to see if it was going to open anytime soon. Feeling she was safe for the moment, she picked up more of the scattered pieces of paper, searching specifically for any more spreadsheets. Steadily, she collected more, even including some pages that tied into them. Once she had all that she could ascertain as belonging to the same report, she then turned to her desk, opened up a drawer, and shoved them inside.

As she turned back to the shrinking mess, the office door suddenly opened, Swanson sticking his head out. "Are you not done yet?" he asked exasperatingly.

Cassandra glanced at the remaining papers on the floor. There were a few scattered single sheets of paper, but the last pile was where her boss had dropped all of the files, the folders piled on top of each other. "I'm almost done," she responded. "Just need to pick up the last of this and place it all in the folders."

Swanson grunted before he retreated back into his office. The girl's eyes narrowed the moment the door closed. She already didn't like the guy, but she was starting to think she had another reason for not liking him.

Kate didn't want to do this. She didn't want to be here. Sadly, she didn't have much of a choice.

Raising a hand up, she rapped her knuckles against the door frame that led into the office of her boss. The door was wide open, thus the use of the door frame. van Dorn looked up from the documents she was reviewing, her glasses reflecting light from the ceiling fan. "What is it, Kate?" she asked in a distracted tone. No doubt she was reading up on a case.

Kate just slowly closed the office door behind her. What she was about to say she didn't want the rest of the office to hear. She walked over to the DA's desk and took a seat in one of the chairs. "Janet, I think I need to take some time off," she reluctantly said.

van Dorn stared at her, lowering the documents she held onto her desk. "This really isn't a good time, Kate," she told her. "We've got a big caseload and I can't afford to not have you out there."

The brunette sighed. "I haven't talked about this, but I had something big happen in my…my family several months ago. I figured I could deal with it, but I'm struggling with it. I've been struggling with it for the last couple of months. When you and the others saw me jump at the food trucks the other day, that was part of it."

She had her boss' full attention now, her eyes sharpening on her. "What happened, Kate?"

"It's a family matter and really personal. I really can't divulge more than that." Kate leaned back in her seat and ran a hand over her face. "Suffice to say, some serious shit went down."

"You do realize how vague that sounds, right? I can't exactly help you if I don't know what's going on."

Yeah, she had expected as much. Good thing she had a cover story ready to go. She just really wished she didn't have to use it. Blowing air through her lips, she then responded, "You remember when I took some days off last year? Around the time Ralph got kidnapped?"

van Dorn nodded her head. "Well, I went to see family on the other side of the country. I was with a cousin when she got snatched up right off of the street. I saw the whole thing. Thankfully we got her back, but then I come back and find out what happened to Ralph and…it just felt like I was cursed for a moment there."

"I'm so sorry that happened to you." van Dorn reached over the desk, attempting to offer some comfort had Kate had her hand on the desk. She didn't, so her boss looked as if she were leaning over her desk, reaching out for the stapler at the far end of the wooden furniture. Her tone was genuine though.

Kate just nodded her head numbly. "Thing is, the last couple of weeks, I've been getting reminders of that kidnapping, ya know? That truck backfiring at the food trucks just reminded me of the truck that took my cousin. I thought I was past all of that, but it's been getting worse, and I don't know why."

The DA slowly nodded her understanding. "I want to help you, Kate, I really do." She sighed with resignation. "If you could do me a favor and wrap up your caseload as much as possible, I can see about getting you some time off to deal with this. At the very least, I can even point you in the direction of a few therapists that might even help you."

Well, that was helpful. Kate wasn't even certain where to begin looking for one, so a recommendation was very encouraging. "Just as long as it isn't Hugo Strange, I would really appreciate it."

van Dorn gave her a wry smile at the joke, sad as it was. She then leaned back in her chair, but only so she could open up one of the drawers in the desk. She pulled out a handful of business cards and began rifling through them, occasionally placing a card down on the desk, making a small pile of them. "I'll make a couple calls to the psychiatrists and psychologists we use as expert witnesses. They should be able to recommend someone to help you. I'll personally make the calls."

"I really appreciate that, Janet, seriously." Kate found herself sighing again. "I'll go get my cases organized as best as I can. I have a couple that are rock solid and about to hit court at the end of the week, but any of the juniors can handle those."

Janet nodded. "I'll take care of this. I'll let you know who I come with. And again, I'm so sorry for what happened to your family."

Kate just gave a thin smile before she stood up and walked towards the door, opening it and leaving it open. She let out yet another sigh as she trudged over to her desk. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to get the day off, or probably even the week, but at the very least she wouldn't have to go into court for those cases of hers.

She just felt dirty manipulating her boss the way she had.