(12/27)
Lucius Fox stood on the top floor of Wayne Enterprise building, looking down. He put his phone to his ear as he watched the young Mr. Tim Drake hurry from the building wildly—crazily. As the line rung, he walked back to the private bathroom and stared at the shattered mirror, the blood droplets in the sink, and bloody tissue in the trash. "Alfred," Lucius spoke, "I hate to interrupt your Christmas vacation. But—since Mr. Wayne is…unavailable—something is wrong with Tim. I don't know what it is, but I think it would be best for everyone if you returned stateside as soon as possible."
Tim stormed into his apartment, slamming the door behind him, and locked himself in the bathroom. He gripped the sink with trembling hands, his knuckles white from the pressure. That was a disaster, he thought, his breaths coming in shaky gasps. He splashed cold water onto his face, the cold water barely grounding him. As he closed his eyes, memories of the board meeting replayed in his mind. Leaning heavily against the door, he slumped to the floor, trying to make sense of the events that had unfolded just an hour ago.
He was drenched in sweat, his face flushed and his breathing ragged. Tim cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Our focus must remain on innovation and stability," he began, his voice wavering. "By investing in— in—"
"Ha-ha-ha." He glanced around frantically, searching for the source of the laughter. He shook his head, trying to pull himself together, and gestured towards the chart on the screen. "By investing in cutting-edge technology and renewable energy sources, we not only ensure our—"
Another burst of laughter interrupted him. "Hee-hee-hee."
Tim's eyes snapped to the back of the room. Joker is here, he realized as a shiver ran down his spine But where? "Um—"
"Mr. Drake?" A voice broke through his panic. Tim turned to see Lucius Fox standing, his brow furrowed with concern. "Are you okay, sir?"
"Um—" Tim tried to speak but was interrupted by another burst of laughter. "Hahahahaha! You're losing them, my boy!" the Joker exclaimed with glee.
"I—" Tim began, but Joker's laughter became uncontrollable. "Shut up!" Tim shouted at the back of the room, his voice echoing sharply.
The room fell silent, everyone staring at him in shock. Lucius rose from his seat, his expression full of worry. "Sir," he said, stepping closer, "are you alright?"
"I'm sorry," Tim stammered, backing into a nearby plant and stumbling. "I'm sorry. I need to leave. I need to leave."
Tim placed his head in his hands as the memory played repeatedly. After stumbling out of the conference room, he sprinted to his car; and sped to his safehouse. Tim rubbed his face again. "I just-I just need to sleep," he gasped. "That's right," he sighed. "I just need sleep."
"He is now at his safehouse on 7th Street," Dick said, spinning his chair to face Stephanie, who had just ended a call.
"That was Lucius," Stephanie replied, her face serious. "Tim tanked the pitch meeting."
"What?" Dick's posture stiffened as he sat up straight. Cassandra, who had been sharpening her blade, looked up in alarm.
"Yeah," Stephanie confirmed. "Lucius called Alfred and had to leave a message. I'm going to try Tim. Then I'll call Alfred," she said, already dialing as she walked away.
Dick turned to Cassandra. "Did you and Steph find any new leads last night?" he asked. Cassandra shook her head. "So the Joker is dead?" Dick pressed. Cassandra nodded. "Hello, Megan," Dick muttered, slapping his forehead. "Of course, he is. Madame Xanadu confirmed it weeks ago. Why are we even doubting this?" He glanced at Cassandra, who gave him a pointed look. "I get it," Dick said, catching on. "It's Tim. Do you think a new 'meta' is on the scene?" Cassandra made a gesture. "You're right," Dick said, standing up. "We need to stay vigilant."
Stephanie reappeared, her expression still tense. "I called Alfred. I hated to disturb him, but I left a message. I also texted Kate to keep an eye out for Tim. She replied with, 'I am not a babysitter.' Is Tim still at his safehouse?"
"Yep," Dick confirmed.
"All right," Stephanie said, taking a deep breath. "Dick, I know you have plans with Barbara. Can you swing by Tim's safehouse?"
"No problem," Dick replied, standing up quickly. "I'll let Barbara know I'll be a few minutes late. She'll understand."
"Thanks," Stephanie said, giving him a quick nod. "We need to figure this out."
As Dick prepared to leave, the weight of the situation settled over them all. The urgency and uncertainty of Tim's condition added an edge to their resolve, pushing them all to act quickly.
(12/28)
"We're not making any progress," Dick groaned in frustration. Yesterday, he had knocked on Tim's safehouse door, only to have Tim answer briefly before slamming it shut in his face. Stephanie and Cassandra experienced the same treatment. Shortly after, Tim moved to a new safehouse, which Cassandra was still tracking. "My hacking skills have their limits, and my device can only do so much," Dick said to Stephanie. "Tim's the real IT expert here."
"We've checked every camera in the area," Stephanie reported. "No one entered before Tim, and no one exited after him."
"Who called in the threat?" Dick asked.
"Detective Gordon mentioned it was a unanimous tip," Stephanie replied. "But I'll request a recording for us to review." She leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on the giant screen in the Batcave. "For now, keep reviewing the footage," she instructed Dick.
"What exactly am I looking for?" Dick asked, his tone tinged with frustration.
"Anything out of the ordinary," Stephanie said. "I'm going to relieve Cassandra."
"Fantastic," Dick muttered as he slowly swiveled his chair towards the screen and hit PLAY. "Just how I wanted to spend my vacation—sifting through mediocre security footage. This is so not a crash."
Dick had been staring at the footage for what felt like eternity, sometimes slowing it, playing it frame-by-frame. The recording was on day 22 and no one had approached the abandoned warehouse - correction - no human had approached the warehouse. Plenty of stray dogs, cats, and birds came and went. "This is useless," he muttered in frustration. The sound of two motorcycle engines echoed in the cave, breaking the depressing silence. "We're back," Stephanie announced as she removed her cowl, with Orphan following behind. She held up a small drive. "I managed to download a copy of the unanimous tip," she said. "How's it going?" she asked as she approached him.
"Fantastic," Dick replied dryly. He abruptly stopped the video, pausing it as Stephanie and Cassandra joined him at the screen. The footage was grainy and dim, making it hard to see clearly, but they could make out a figure holding a medium-sized box. The figure appeared nervous, frequently glancing around before entering the warehouse and then leaving shortly after. "Didn't Tim mention something about a Joker box?" Dick asked.
"Yeah," Stephanie confirmed. "Cass and I went back to the warehouse, but it had self-destructed. I see what you're getting at, though. We need to revisit that scene. Let's do that now," she motioned to Cass. "Try to identify the person in that footage and the voice on this recording."
Tim chugged his umpteenth bottle of water. His AC was on full blast, but he still felt as hot and as dry as a desert though he was sweating a ton. His heart was racing, and he was struggling to breathe. Joker did something to me. I knew he was still alive. I should call Steph and—Tim paused. I told them, and they didn't believe me. "Joker's alive," Tim muttered. "I told them, and they didn't believe me. Ah!" he gasped, grabbing his head in pain. Images flashed in front of his eyes. The pain of a whip. The cold steel being dragged against his skin. Joker enraged because he couldn't take "birdy-boy's mask off, now!" Tim rubbed his eyes. "Stop," he cried out weakly. Being strapped to a chair, water-boarded, electrocuted, crying for Batman, begging for death. It was all flooding back. Tim slumped to the floor. He could see Joker's twisted grin like it was in front of him, so he closed his eyes. He could hear Joker's maniacal laughter and feel his breath on his face, so he plugged his ears. Still afraid of the dark because Joker haunted every shadow, every dark crevice. Tim's eyes flew open and darted around the room wildly. "He's watching me," Tim gasped as tears of terror streamed down his face. "He's always watching." He began to rock back-and-forth. "He knows where I am. He's coming for me. I need to get out of here. I need to end this. I'm gonna kill him once and for all."
"Fuck!" Batgirl shouted as she stormed back into the Batcave, ripping off her cowl and throwing it aside. "I'm such an idiot! I should have tested for residue immediately after it happened!" Orphan picked up Batgirl's mask and handed it back to Stephanie, giving her a reassuring pat on the back.
"I guess we both had some breakthroughs," Dick said, appearing in his Robin uniform but without the cowl. "I've identified the mystery man and the anonymous caller—they're the same person." He pressed a button on the screen, bringing up a mugshot of an average-looking man. "This is John Parker. Thirty years old, served five years of a ten-year sentence. He was deemed mentally disturbed and transferred to a psychiatric unit. He's been out on parole for a little over a month and has connections with the Joker and Scarecrow."
Stephanie's eyes widened. "So, the box Tim found was clearly placed there by him. Tim's been poisoned. Dick, get in touch with Cyborg immediately and let him know it's an emergency. Orphan and I are heading to Tim's safehouse to test his blood. Is he still at the same safehouse, or has he moved?" Orphan made a gesture indicating the safehouse was the same. "Good," Stephanie said. "We'll get to him and—" She was interrupted by her comm unit beeping. "Hello?" she answered.
"It's me."
"Kate?" Stephanie replied, surprised.
"I was responding to a break-in and saw Red Robin on his bike," Batwoman said. "I followed him to a park off of 4th. He's…miming? Interpretive dancing? I'm not sure what he's doing."
"What? His tracker says he's still at the safehouse," Stephanie stared at the screen incredulously.
"I don't know what to tell you, but I'm looking right at him. He just headbutted a tree."
"Restrain him," Stephanie ordered.
"Excuse me? Why?"
"Tim's been exposed to some kind of gas. He's hallucinating the Joker and thinks he's fighting him."
"He is now punching a tree."
"Please stop him."
"I'll send you my coordinates."
"Orphan," Stephanie said, ending the call. "We're on our way. Dick—"
"Calling Cyborg now," Dick replied.
"Okay," Stephanie said, pulling on her cowl and stepping into her Batgirl role. "Let's go."