Ra's al Ghul sat comfortably in his limousine. To say he was nettled would be an understatement. His most promising wayward student had achieved what he had only dreamed of: peace on Earth. And this peace had been achieved without an excessive show of force, just one death. No extravagant killing, no subterfuge or clandestine operation, just a simple sacrifice for the greater good. Luthor had been killed, the League became Lords, and the Earth began to heal. But it didn't last. The student's flawed conscience must have blinded him, like a bad habit. As a result the Lords fell and the student had willfully handed control back over to the people.
"If you want anything done right," he murmured the adage to himself, "You have to do it yourself." The fingers of his left hand gently flexed around the trigger that would send the signal to put his plan into motion. The second he pulled the trigger, the snowball at the top of the proverbial hill would be pushed and Azra'il would escape Arkham Asylum with the needed agents.
No matter how tempted Ra's al Ghul was to just hit it now, his discipline kept him in check. He was nothing if not patient. He'd waited hundreds of years for all the pieces to be in place, he could wait another hour or two. He had to meet with him. One final chance for his prodigal pupil to recognize the mistake he'd made ending the Justice Lords and join him to take control again.
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Tim had been waiting for months for Barbara to call him. In fact, he hadn't answered any other phone calls the first day he'd brought Batman's return up to her. He just waited for her call; and for every other call that came through, he would immediately decline it once he saw it wasn't her – much to his now ex-girlfriend's displeasure. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. Eventually, he moved on to other things. Life doesn't stand still, you know. However, every day he would hope and pray that it would be the day that she'd call.
Today was no different; and as Tim sat staring at his phone and ignoring the summer book report he had to write, he twiddled his thumbs anxiously. "C'mon, Babs... I gotta know!" The anxiety got the better of Tim and he stood up and walked to his bed. He got on his hands and knees to pull a small backpack out from under the bed. Inside were a few tokens from the past including a damaged Robin mask, his first bat-a-rang, and a torn piece of cloth from his Robin cape. Small mementos of the most exciting time in his life.
Though he hadn't been The Boy Wonder for too long, he felt that it was his real life; his only life. And that was something he needed. He traced the bat-a-rang with his finger as its edge dredged up memories of fights gone by. Without Robin, he was just "Timothy Drake", that one high school underclassman who makes decent brownies. He was ordinary. He hated being ordinary.
His phone rang, pulling him from his nostalgia trip, and he rushed to answer it without even looking at the caller ID. "Hello? Hello? Barbara!" He couldn't help but exclaim as he recognized the voice on the other line. "About dang time!"
Barbara sighed on the other end, clearly not as enthused about the conversation as he. "It seems to be true, Tim. The Bat is back."
"Yes!" He was sure she was frowning at his exclamation on the other line, but he didn't care. "How long?"
"Dad couldn't say. In fact he didn't outright say he was back, but I figured that that was only because of his job. Plausible deniability. But between some vague news reports I've noticed and my father's avoidance of the topic, I'm sure it's a fair guess that Batman's returned to the night."
The line was quiet for a moment.
"So… Now what?" Tim asked.
"Now nothing," Barbara responded dismissively. "I am going to continue being a librarian. I don't need to be Batgirl. I don't need that other identity to make a difference or to feel special. Sure it was great being Batgirl, but that part of my life is behind me. I've given it up. I recommend you do the same."
"Are you joking?" Tim countered seriously. "The Bat is back!"
"Yes!" Barbara nearly shouted back. "And what are you going to do? Drop by the manor out of the blue and get the cape back on? You really think life will just pick up where it left off? If I remember correctly, he fired us… To keep us safe from whatever bad press the Justice Lords would – and did – get. If he wanted a Robin, he would have called you, don't you think?"
Again Tim was silent, clearly crestfallen.
Barbara gave a delayed sigh, regretting the harsher tone she'd just used. "Tim... I understand, somewhat, what you are going through. But you don't need to be Robin to make a difference. Sure, you were helping people in need, but it was dangerous! We fought crazed maniacs with guns, mutations, and powers! That armored spandex only protects so much... You were a kid and Bruce threw you into a war, for Pete's sake! You had your entire life ahead of you. Ever thought about what would happen if you got captured by Two-Face – or the Joker even – and we couldn't find you? What then? Two-Face already had a nasty history with you and prefers everything in twos, but Joker? He was a madman! There's no telling what he would do to you!"
"I was careful, Babs!" Tim angrily shot back. "I may have joked around while on the clock, but hero time was serious time! That would never happen!"
The line went silent again as the two sat with their thoughts.
Finally, Barbara cleared her throat to speak. "My first few nights out, I got a real taste of the city... The shootings, robberies, killings... There's something terribly, terribly wrong with Gotham, Tim, something dreadful. It breeds a plague of psychosis. Every gun shot that would ring out would remind me that there were consequences and that one day I might have to pay them. I often worried what that payment would be. What if I was crippled in a fight? What if I fell from the top of a building chasing down a supervillain? My secret would be out, my family would be put in danger, and I would no longer be able to help people. I'm asking you, Tim – no – begging you... Do not go back. You've got a great life in Blüdhaven, friends, and a found family that loves you for you. Promise me you'll stay home."
"Yawn-a-rooney."
"Timothy!"
"Kidding!" And then his voice dropped to darker levels. "In all honesty, Babs, I can't keep that promise." Without giving Barbara another chance at dissuading him, he hung up.
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Clark Kent plopped down on his hideout's couch and greedily opened a pizza box. "C'mon, John!" He called his partner-in-revenge over. "You can't find Shayera on an empty stomach!"
John's dark eyes narrowed. "Watch me."
Clark frowned. "Don't make me force feed you. You know I can."
John Stewart grunted but approached the pizza box all the same. "I'm not hungry."
"I don't care. You need to eat. Nourish yourself."
"With pizza?"
Kent held up a folded slice of the meat lover's pizza. "Hey, it's got a great balance of protein, starch, and veggies, so why not?"
"Har-de-har-har, Kent." Stewart cracked a smile for the first time that day. He rose from his seat before the laptop and accepted the slice. "You were gone awhile today. Any luck with your own investigation into Shayera's whereabouts?" He asked as he started scarfing down his piece.
Kent had spent the better part of most days since their first rough outing in Star City putting his investigative journalistic skills to use. Any and every lead he could find he would follow up on. Unfortunately, so far the only thing he'd uncovered was that most of Clark Kent's contacts had gone the way of the dodo. "Nothing new. Wherever she is, they sure didn't want her getting out."
"Makes sense." John pulled another piece from the box and sprinkled some of the included pepper flakes on the top. "Like you, her physiology is not entirely human. She might still retain superhuman strength. Maybe even has some control over her wings."
"Think that she has enough control to fly?" Clark asked.
"Hopefully." John stared off into the distance out the grimy, low window. He thought back to the last time the two of them had a meaningful conversation. It had been about strategy against the other world's Justice League and not much else. There was so much more that had remained unsaid.
The two powerful men sat in silence, munching on the Italian pie. As the pizza was whittled down to its last three slices, Kent noticed the wistful look on John's face. "Don't worry, we'll find her."
John's melancholy grimace didn't fade. "All the good we did… Just for them to lock her up and throw away the key." He took another bite of his pizza slice. "Ungrateful."
Clark was silent for a moment as he contemplated his next words carefully. "Perhaps they couldn't see the forest for the trees, John. Perhaps she's in protective custody somewhere? Like Lois--"
Stewart interrupted him. "Lois isn't an intergalactic warrior refugee from a space-faring people, Kent. She's a reporter. Shayera doesn't need protection, she was their protection. And they've locked her up like a common criminal."
"Say what you will about our goals, but you can't deny that the people didn't really view us in the best light. I mean…" Kent trailed off as he weighed whether or not the conversation should continue.
"And here we go, again." The ex-Marine rolled his eyes at the former Man of Steel. "Spit it out, Kent."
"Well, think about it. Remember when we were rooting out that disruptive political party? J'onn nearly had a psychotic break when he reached out with his mind over the people to nail down their location. He kept muttering something about the entire world exuding sorrow. That's something that's still haunting him. I can tell."
"I remember." Stewart threw the remnants of his crust back into the box and crossed his arms disapprovingly. "We got the bad guys in the end, that's what mattered. We kept the world safe. What's your point?"
Clark exhaled sharply and stared at John. "Diana's on the fast track to being a 'normal' person. Have you read her statement? The one that got her into the rehabilitation program?" Clark waited for Stewart to respond, but when the man said nothing, he sighed. "I'm just saying, what if we really did mess up?"
Stewart frowned and shook his head. "That's not something I entertain. We were – are – the strong. We have to rule because—"
"We have the power to?" Superman's words were bitter and slightly resentful.
Stewart's frown deepened. "There are a lot of terrible and dangerous things in this universe, some of which originate here on Earth. We tried playing by the old rules and where did that get us? Power hungry cretins with superweapons tried taking over the world bi-weekly. And when one did take control of the most powerful country in the world, we lost the Flash." Stewart closed his eyes as painful memories resurfaced. "We have to rule because if we don't, someone else will."
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Tim stepped out of the taxi cab and handed the man a disorganized wad of cash. "Keep the change," he said quickly as he slammed the door.
"Oh, thank you, sir!" The gruff driver-for-hire then sped off leaving Tim alone at the gates of Wayne Manor.
Not much had changed. The gates were still the same, the driveway was still fresh and clear. He inhaled the Gotham air deeply. "Well, now or never, Drake." He thought about trying the code for the gate but dropped the idea in favor of sneaking back into the 'Cave. After all, what better way to show Bruce he was ready to pick up the crusade where he left it than by demonstrating that his stealth skills were still up to par? He easily slipped over the gate and landed quietly on the other side. "Piece of cake." He dusted off his hands.
"And you are?"
The voice gave him a shiverand he immediately spun around. Behind the wall was a woman crouching next to a bush with clippers in her hands and a canvas hat on her head. She was very attractive… and very familiar. Then realization hit him: "Wonder Woman!" He quickly scurried a few feet back off of the gravel driveway and nearly toppled into shrubbery.
Diana's countenance fell slightly and she stood from where she had been trimming the hedges. "Please, don't say that name out loud," she begged. "Mr. Wayne has just started getting rid of the bad press. That's not who I am. Not anymore." She motioned with one hand for Tim to approach. "I won't hurt you, young man."
Tim cautiously stepped forward. "Where is Mr. Wayne?" he asked slowly.
"Mr. Wayne is in a meeting right now, but he should be returning soon." She looked into the sky and squinted against the falling sun. "It's nearly evening and he usually is home around this time." She stooped and returned to pruning the flowers. "Again I have to ask, who you are. It isn't every day that someone hops the front gate. Much less with such ease."
"My name's Tim," the young boy replied with a bit of pride at her compliment. "I used to live in Gotham and Mr. Wayne was my boss for an... after-school job."
"What sort of work did you do for Mr. Wayne, Tim?"
"Uh, I was sort of a cleaning person. Broke a window on his mansion and had to pay it back doing clean-up work around his house for about a year or two."
Diana looked up from her spot. "That's quite a long time to be working to pay back a window."
Tim averted his eyes. "It was a big window."
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Bruce sat in his empty boardroom across from a man he had grown to begrudgingly respect. "What do you want, Ra's?"
Ra's al Ghul sat relaxed but at odds with his host at the other end of the table, easily looking Bruce Wayne in the eye. "Order. Peace. Progress. Take your pick, Detective."
Bruce didn't respond, he simply glared at the enemy he had hoped would never return.
"Seeing as you aren't willing to small-talk, I'll cut straight to the chase." He slid a small case across the desk straight to Bruce's hands, then laced his fingers together again. "Open it."
Bruce did as the eco-terrorist instructed and was greeted with a smattering of newspaper clippings. He retrieved the topmost one and inspected it. He didn't have to read further than the date to know what the rest of the snipped article was about. "The Gotham Herald headline from the day the Justice Lords took control. Why?" Bruce demanded.
"You've disappointed me, Detective. You had it all: The control, the man-power, the respect. You accomplished in days what I and the Society of Shadows have been working at for centuries: world peace." Ra's took a deliberate sip of the complimentary water before him before continuing. "But then you had to ruin it." In a rare show of emotion, Ra's raised his voice. "You had achieved the ultimate goal! My goal. You took your rightful place and became humanity's leader; its savior. And then you threw it all away! Why?"
Bruce's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't my place."
"Wasn't your place?" Ra's had to bite his tongue to restrain himself. "Detective, I don't know the full story. I do not think I ever will know just what convinced you to relinquish your hold, but I know this: I will pick up where you left off. With or without you, I will save this planet. Not just the people, but all of nature.
"When you took control, I thought there was a chance for this world, a chance to course correct these wayward people. But now I see that was a foolish hope. So now you leave me with no other choice: I have to reboot the system. And it all starts with the push of a button." Ra's al Ghul raised the trigger in his hand and pressed the button. "The Endwar starts now, Detective. Which side will you choose? Progress or them?"
Ra's stood cooly from his chair and Bruce shot up soon after; but before he could ask what the eco-terrorist meant, a dull explosion echoed from the outskirts of Gotham city. Bruce looked outside and saw smoke billowing from the direction of Arkham. "No..."
"You see, Detective, I did not have to come here. I could have simply started my grand plan to pick up from where you left off without letting you in on my goings-on. But since you actually accomplished what I'd set out to do so many centuries ago, and because you are still the best student I have ever had, I felt it only noble to give you one final chance to make things right. One final chance to join me." Ra's al Ghul reached out his hand to his former pupil.
Bruce Wayne looked from the smoke to Ra's al Ghul, then to the city he had sworn to protect. "Never again." He stood firm, fists clenched and hands evenly at his side ready to fight.
The eco-terrorist stood his ground but shook his head. "Very well, Detective." He turned to leave.
"What makes you think I'll let you just walk out of here?" Bruce's fingers curled into fists.
"Because you don't have much of a choice."
Ra's pressed a button on his belt and there was a flash of intensely blinding light accompanied by a deafening sound. Bruce instinctively looked away and shielded his eyes behind his arm. As soon as they had come, the sound died down and the light faded. The office was silent again save the distant wails of sirens. Bruce looked around but found himself alone. Ra's al Ghul was nowhere to be seen.
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"Ah shit, you see the latest, kid?" Green Arrow leaned his bow against the brick wall of an empty townhouse as he scrolled through his phone's instant newsfeed. "Arkham's been hit."
Robin turned his head and looked at his friend. "What? When did this happen?" he asked.
"Seven min– er, ten minutes ago." Green Arrow looked up from his screen. "That's pretty dumb, don't you think, though? Who'd be stupid enough to jailbreak Arkham? Most of the inmates are lobotomized and most of those that aren't can be retained with a snap."
Robin furrowed his brow as he contemplated the news. "Unless..."
Green Arrow looked at his ally. "Unless what?"
Slowly, a possible motive formulated in his mind. "Unless they have a way to undo... Oh no..." Robin dashed to the Bat-Trike and leapt into the cockpit.
"Mind fillin' me in, bird-boy?" Green Arrow caught up to Robin. "Where ya headed?"
"Stay here and keep a lookout for Superman and Stewart."
"Now hang on a sec—"
Robin ignored Green Arrow's protests as he readied his vehicle. "I've got to get back to Gotham."
"Wait, but—"
"If that jailbreak is by who I think it is, we could be in for a world of trouble." Robin punched in the coordinates for Arkham and the GPS plotted the fastest route to the Somerset District.
"Wait one second, pal!" Green Arrow shot a finger in Robin's face. "I've got seniority here, so where do you get off giving me orders like I'm some kid?"
Robin looked at his friend. Now was not the time for Green Arrow to be difficult. He gave Green Arrow a withering look.
"Look, what I say goes, got that? ...and I say you go to Arkham and I'll stay here and relay to you if I see dumb and dumber." Despite Green Arrow's continued bravado, it was clear Robin's grim expression had shaken him.
The Bat-Trike canopy slid over Robin's body with a hiss sealing him off to the outside, and soon the rocket-powered vehicle was off to Arkham.
"Robin to all points. Robin to all points. Converge on Arkham Island. I repeat: all points to Arkham Island. ETA thirty minutes."
"Batgirl here. I'm on my way. Seventeen minutes out."
"This is Batman. I've been held up. Start without me. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Roger." Both Batgirl and Robin replied in unison.
Robin put his communicator on stand-by and focused even more on dodging and weaving between cars and lanes. One wrong move would spell disaster. Batman had warned him that the Bat-Trike was unstable at these high speeds, but in a situation like this, he felt the risk was necessary. Based on recent events, he had a suspicion that Ra's was the one responsible for blowing Arkham open, and with the doomsday murderer Jean-Paul Valley inside, those two together could be a lethal combination.
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Bruce pulled into the parking garage of his mansion and rushed into the manor. "Diana?" He called out quickly.
"In here!" came the angelic response. Bruce followed her voice and found her in the kitchen with another person he never thought he'd see again.
"Tim?"
"Hey, Bru– Mr. Wayne. Just came to check on that window." He grinned and gave a subtle wink.
"The window is fine, Tim." Bruce caught the cover-story. "Nice of you to visit and check."
Tim made a face. "Er, no problem-o."
Diana stood, seemingly oblivious to the tension. "Well, it is lovely that you two have been reunited and I would love to stay and chat, but I have to take a shower… Get all this dirt from the garden off me." She waved at her moderately soiled clothing and apron jokingly. After a beat, she slipped out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs. "Don't wait up!" she called back.
Bruce goofily smiled back and waved. As soon as she was out of sight, his face was wiped of whimsy and he turned to Tim Drake. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.
"I heard that you were 'operating' again and came to see what was up."
"Go home." Bruce's eyes narrowed. "I have somewhere to be."
"A mission? Tim hopped alongside his old mentor, "Who is it? Bane? Croc? that Mr. Death guy?"
"All of them," Bruce answered automatically.
"Sweet!" Tim fist-pumped, then ran after Bruce, "So you are definitely gonna need backup, huh?"
"No. Go home, Tim."
"What?"
"Go. Home." Bruce slipped behind the grandfather clock in the second foyer and descended the steps to the BatCave. Before he even hit the main floor, he was in uniform. As soon as he pulled on his cowl, he barked into the radio demanding a status report.
"Robin here. ETA ten minutes or less. I can see the chaos. It's… it's bad, boss."
Batman scowled. "Ten minutes? You should have been there by now according to your own calculations."
"Yeah, I'm disappointed, too. But I didn't account for the public response. The sidewalks are teeming with people rushing away from the island and its bridges. Emergency vehicles are already tending to the wounded. The two newer bridges were also taken out by secondary explosions, no doubt to impede police response. All that's left is the peninsula road itself. I had to take a slight detour."
"If the bridges are out, then whoever's planned all this will likely be at the sea. Keep an eye on the harbor."
"Got it."
"Batgirl here," Batgirl's voice came over the comm system, not nearly as stressed as the Boy Wonder. "I'm here. Half the wall's missing and much of the main detention area is rubble. There are prisoners everywhere. Bodies, too. Of those that got out alive, most are lobotomized zombies. But there are a few of the… normal cases. I've already subdued Julian Day and Nigma."
"The name is Riddler, you Philistine!" Edward Nigma berated her from the background.
"Shut up!" Her attention returned to Batman. "Don't know what to say. Still trying to find Mr. Death. He is my main target."
"Why?"
Robin's voice came up. "Batgirl checked recent visitor logs. One 'Ray Algol' had a visit with Mr. Death a week ago. Such a thinly veiled alias, not sure why it raised no alarms."
Batman grimly nodded. "Corruption is seeping back in. Stay sharp, Batgirl. Don't forget that there are more dangerous criminals on that island with you than just Jean-Paul. Robin, as soon as you get there, rendezvous with Batgirl and then find out what blew Arkham open. If it was a missile from off-island, track the trail. If it was an explosive on-island, see if there are any clues as to who set it."
"Roger."
"And Batgirl—"
"Riddle me this, Batgirl," the Riddler's voice carried over the comm. "What time should you be watching right now?"
"I said shut up!" Batgirl directed her voice to Nigma.
"I'll give you a hint! This Spanish adder has a sting like none other!"
Robin answered the riddle in seconds. "Batgirl! Watch your back! Bane's gotta be who—" Robin's warning came too late and there was a loud crash on Batgirl's end.
"Batgirl!" Robin called to his teammate, her comm now offline.
"Get down there now! I'm on my way!" Batman cut the transmission and headed for the BatCave's small harbor.
"Cool!" A young voice from behind Batman was gleeful. "You still have my uniform!"
Batman whirled around with his teeth bared and his eyes landed on the intruder. "Tim!"
Tim Drake stepped out of the shadows half in his Robin outfit. "Sup?"
"Go. Home." Batman hissed.
"Hey, Arkham's been hit! You know I can help!"
"I have help." Batman's belt flashed twice indicating that Robin had arrived at Arkham. He was running late. "Go home or stay here until I return. Either way; do not go out with that on!" He rushed to the Batboat and within seconds the powerful sea vessel rocketed off from the cove.
"Pfft, right." Tim finished dressing up. "You'll need my help. Just like old times." He straddled a black jetski and sped off towards Arkham Island.