The apartment front door slammed open and a whirlwind of a boy crossed the threshold. In the blink of an eye, his coat was hung sloppily on a wall hook and his shoes were kicked off haphazardly on the mat. The door wasn't even closed before he was already halfway to the bedrooms of the apartment. In his rush, he nearly bowled over one of the old occupants.
"Woah! A Tim-nado's blowin' through!" Uncle Roger had to pin himself to the wall to avoid the teenage rush of energy. "The convention was that good, huh, kiddo?"
Tim was about to just continue on his way to his room when a voice forced him to a halt. "Timothy Drake! Don't tell me you left your manners at the Blüdhaven Arena, young man." Aunt Harriet stood in the kitchen cleaning up a table with three place settings. She'd watched the whole interaction take place with a stern look on her face. Apparently he was extremely late.
"I'm sorry, Rog." Tim half-groaned as he offered a stock apology and hoped that would be the only conflict he'd have to resolve. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Apology accepted," Uncle Roger answered with an understanding smile. "This was a good reminder to stay my aging rear in the slow lane!"
Tim was already off, rushing for his room before his uncle's safe humor could land. He also heard his uncle yell something about a visitor, but couldn't make it out. He was too focused on his goal. He slammed his room door behind him with gusto and took a moment to himself to breath and organize the thoughts bouncing around in his head. A wide grin spread over his face. A plan was forming. "I've finally got it!"
"Got what, sport?"
Tim froze for a moment as the foreign voice shattered his expectation of privacy. He made a slow about face and locked eyes with Richard Grayson, sitting on his bed with one leg crossed over the other and the morning's paper opened in his hands. Dick casually folded up the newspaper and purposefully placed it on the floor next to his dark, nondescript duffle bag. "Come on, now; share with the class." He patted the spot next to him with a lazy smirk. "Sounds juicy."
"What are you doing here?" Tim asked with a held breath.
Dick feigned injury. "Ouch, and here I thought you'd be happy to see me again."
"That's not what I meant," Tim clarified. He dropped his bookbag and started unloading it of its contents, paying special attention to a notebook.
"I know," Dick replied after a beat. "I'm in town working on establishing roots. Roger and Harriet gave me the green to crash here while I sort out my own apartment."
"I thought you had one in Gotham?"
"Investing in real estate is never a bad idea, especially if you're planning on flitting back and forth," Dick cryptically explained. "Besides... I'm tired of sleeping in hostels. I'd like to have a bed of my own for a while."
"But you're sitting on mine," Tim duly pointed out.
Dick winked. "You're quick. I'll be slumming it on your couch for a few days, don't worry. It's still better than an over-starched cot." He stretched high and groaned into the stretch. "But enough about me, what about you? Sounded like you were on your Eureka run."
Tim looked around the rest of the room with nervous eyes. "Where's Barbara?"
"She's not here. Unlike me, she calls Gotham home."
"Okay, good. I'm pretty sure she'd discourage me." Tim's excitement returned, and that worried Dick.
"Now hold up, I may have the same response." Dick's brow creased slightly and he crossed his arms in anticipation of disapproval.
"You wouldn't stop me, though," Tim dismissed Dick's mild protest as he opened his notebook and quickly flipped through a few pages. He spoke as he did. "Ever since Bruce closed the cave on me, I've been thinking about how to get back in on the action." Finally finding the page he wanted, he handed the book to Dick. "Take a look at some of these rad designs I've done."
Dick took a look at the book in his hands and judged the drawings. On the page was a rather impressive technical sketch of some sort of short-sleeved suit surrounded by a number of small, incomplete sketches that focused on various aspects of the design. Dick was impressed. "You've got a decent talent for drawing, Tim. Proportions on point and the cross hatching is impressive." He nodded approvingly. "I've never been able to get a handle on it but you seem to have a knack for it. Ever thought of a career in drafting? I think you'd have a decent future as a technical illustrator."
"For crying out loud! The artstyle isn't the point, Dick!" Tim moaned as he completely ignored the encouraging words. "The design itself is!" He eagerly tapped his finger on the main drawing repeatedly.
Dick tilted his head. "A bit dark, don't you think?"
"This coming from Nightwing, Mr. Black-and-blue himself?" Tim asked dryly. "Besides, a bright red chest just makes for a target. Only works out when you're with a partner. Alone, that's a good way to get caught. Or killed."
"Point taken," Dick replied. He brushed his finger over the drawn tunic. "No logo for your character yet?"
"No not yet," Tim confirmed. "And I told you already, this isn't a character. This is for me."
"Oh, geez, drop it, Tim!" Dick frustratedly tossed the notebook to the side. "You have a chance I never got: to live your life as a kid. You got your vengeance on Dent, and on top of that you also put away a good number of other bad people. Why on earth would you want to risk your neck again when you don't have to?"
Tim harshly shushed Dick's outburst and his eyes shot to the door to ensure neither his aunt nor uncle would come barreling through with questions as to their conversation. Once he was satisfied, he took a breath and retrieved his notebook. "You may be content with sitting on the sidelines, but I have to go out there and make a difference in the only way I know how. I hated the Justice Lords, but ever since they fell apart, crime's shot back up! Bruce is up and running in Gotham but who does Blüdhaven have? Nobody, that's who."
"Is that your name, Odysseus?" Dick interjected with a wry smirk; but when Tim stared back at him with a blank expression, he realized his tease had landed on deaf ears. "Pearls before swine, I swear... Tim, you can't be serious. You're barely in high school, your whole life ahead of you... You don't even keep track of your own homework!" He thrust a finger at a scattered pile of summer reading books, one of which labeled Homer. "What makes you think you can survive alone what Bruce worked with you to accomplish? I can't let you do that, kid."
"Hear me out, Dick." Tim again opened up the notebook that held his uniform designs again. "I saw this tech demonstrated this afternoon. A few nerd-heads over at S.T.A.R. Labs showed off a super interesting compound! It made stuff not only appear invisible, but also teleported stuff from one side of the hall to the other! It could totally be what I need to tip the scales in my favor!" He pointed again at his sketches, specifically the belt. "Spent the whole ride home on the bus just drawing up a potential means of utilizing it!"
Dick's face darkened. "You're talking about Dr. Cheng's xenothium compound," he stated sagely. "Tim, that stuff is volatile, dangerous. It'd sooner kill you than teleport you."
Tim shook his head. "Don't count on it, Dick. That's the beauty of it, it's not radioactive in the slightest. It breaks down naturally and safely! You only need to make sure—"
Dick stood and cut Tim off. "So let me get this straight: you saw a military contractor demo the weaponization of an unstable compound and you want to wear it?" His frown deepened as he squared his shoulders and for the first time in years his attitude toward Tim took on that of an authority figure rather than simply a brother. "Tim, you have to realize just how insane that makes you sound, right?"
Tim felt a familiar feeling bubbling in his throat, a feeling he'd felt back when Bruce had duly shut him out and the new partners – the pretenders – summarily confirmed he was no longer necessary. He felt underestimated. His jaw clenched up despite his best efforts to not let his growing frustration show. He looked under his heavy brow at his surrogate brother; but as the Dick came into view, Tim saw not a young man standing with a practiced faux laziness and carefully crafted carefree swagger but a strong adult with squared shoulders, planted legs, and a stern expression. He didn't see Richard Grayson, he saw Bruce Wayne. He closed his eyes for a moment to clear his head and when he opened his eyes again, he saw Dick Grayson again, but still the young man's arms were crossed and a disapproving look was on his face. Finally, he simply shrugged. "I'll figure it out," he answered with a mumble. "Just you see."
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Batgirl leaped from the Batwing before the full docking procedure was complete and beelined for the restroom. With no need to rush, Robin carefully monitored the auto-docking process of the large flying wing in the stand-up hangar then used the cockpit's pulley to lower himself down to the ground level. At the computer, he spotted his mentor just standing about and looking a little lost.
"Woah! 'Sup, Boss?" Robin greeted Batman casually but with a tinge of awe. He pulled back his mask and sat in the main chair before the Batcomputer. Eyeing the black and grey suit Batman wore up and down, Curtis went on. "Feeling nostalgic?"
Batman tilted his head. "Not exactly..."
If Curtis didn't know any better, he would have guessed that Batman seemed surprised at his presence.
"Hey, Boss." Batgirl calmly strode past The Bat with a satisfied sigh and pulled her helmet off. After combing her fingers through her hair and resting her protective headgear on a side table, she stood by Robin and began logging the night's escapades into the computer. "How'd you get back before us? That archer guy said you went into that store and never saw you come out."
Curtis laughed. "He's the damn Batman, that's how." Despite his jest, he still shot Batman a suspicious look.
In response, Batman scowled at him and a light snarl shook off the unwanted stare. "I've been here for a while. Close to an hour or so."
Kimber stopped her typing and turned around. "An hour?" she repeated. "Nuh-uh, that's impossible. We left you under that storefront." It took but a moment for the girl to realize just how that sounded and another for her to clarify her objection. "Well, not left you, more like... A tactical retreat."
"Ninjas were swarming the streets and just disappearing into the night even faster than we could!" Curtis piped up to help out his friend. "There was no way we'd be able to sneak past all of them to the catacombs for you... Much less passed Ubu and Ra's. Azra'il, maybe, but not Ra's."
"Azrael?" Batman asked, pronouncing the name slightly differently.
There was an awkward moment of silence as both protégés looked at each other, then back to their mentor. "Either you were knocked out for a while and are suffering some… Short-term memory loss..." Curtis started.
"Or you are a robotic clone bent on replacing Batman and slowly assimilating all other people into robots!"
Curtis looked at the girl leaning on the computer keyboard, befuddled.
"What?"
"I can't believe I'm saying this but you gotta cut down on the sci-fi."
"It was as good a guess as yours..."
"You're both wrong." Batman's voice came from out of the darkness but not from his body.
Curtis wiggled a finger in his ear. "What the hell?"
Batman stepped up next to Batman.
"Oh jeez, there are two of them?"
Kimber put a hand to her forehead. "That explains a lot, actually."
Batman continued. "This Batman is from a different dimension. A twin from another timestream."
"No way..." Kimber gazed at The Other, now with more curiosity than suspicion. She approached and took in the stranger's uniform. She'd only seen the black and grey suit through protective glass in its commemorative display, a relic from a different time; a time before the Justice Lords. Now seeing it in person on a person, an odd sense of reverence came over her that she hadn't felt since last December. "That explains the retro duds. Your Flash is still alive, isn't he?"
The other Batman barely nodded. "How do you figure?"
Kimber finished circling The Other but her eyes remained fixed on his form. "Justice League didn't go militant until the Flash was killed. The uniform change inaugurated the Justice Lords. Since you're still in the black and gray, I assume that he's still alive. That they're both still alive." Her eyes lifted and met his guarded ones, and even without needing to see his eyes she knew she was right. Both the Flash and Lex Luthor were alive and well.
"The event before the fall." Curtis sat up and started typing away at the Batcomputer keyboard. "I've found references here and there, but there's never been a full report... I've tried piecing the bits I've uncovered together, but details are scant." He pulled up a pet file he'd been maintaining and then looked over at a large, unused machine gathering dust in a corner of the BatCave. "So that thing actually works?"
Batman evenly nodded once. "It does."
The Other looked from the two teens to Batman. "They're good."
"They have to be. Come to check up on me?"
The Other nodded. "And I'm pleased. You picked up the pieces: you found your strength. Couldn't have done better myself."
"That's because he is yourself," Kimber pointed out with a rather nervous smile.
"Not now!" They responded in unison with equally hard edges and both glared at her as she shrank away.
"Great, now it's in stereo..." Curtis muttered from the Batcomputer.
The two Batmans returned their attention to each other.
"I've had to get busy thanks to certain… Things. Incidents that have occurred."
"I took the liberty of perusing through your recent case file. Ra's al Ghul's back at it again."
Batman nodded. "Care to lend a hand?"
"Would you stay for me?" The Other replied.
"No," Batman answered. "I don't think I would." He turned to a nearby terminal and began running a cross-reference for any other building or business establishment under Ra's al Ghul's known aliases.
The Other Batman turned to leave for his dimension and Kimber ran back up beside him. "So you are like a glimpse into the past, right?"
The dimensional double didn't respond.
"So that means on the other side, I most probably have a double as well?"
Still no response.
"I'm guessing you have no idea who I am, huh?" She sounded slightly dejected.
"No."
"Well, do you and your Wonder Woman have feelings for each other on the other side, too?"
The Batman stuttered on his next step as he approached the interdimensional gate. "What are you talking about? Diana's a valued member of the League. Nothing more."
"Of course." Kimber hid a smile. "Good to know at least some things are constant."
"I have no idea what you're on about." The Other set the correct parameters for the gateway and the empty space hummed with life. "Wonder Woman is an excellent fighter and respected colleague. She can handle herself well in a fight and is in peak mental condition. I admire her in that regard; as one teammate to another."
"So you're saying she's capable, independent, attractive, and beautifully intelligent?" Kimber twisted his words a bit. "Sounds like a cause for a wet dream on a dark night."
The Other glared at her again but was surprised when she didn't wither. She just beamed back.
"You should tell her," Kimber said with a smile. "Before it's too late."
"There's nothing to tell."
"Mmhmm, right." Kimber wasn't buying it. "I suppose we will see you around, other Batman." She gave him a casual salute.
He didn't reciprocate and left without a word.
"Just like ours." Kimber left the portal's threshold as the exotic energies died down and headed back to the main chamber.
"Putting aside for now the fact that you have an interdimensional portal shoved in a corner... What did you discover when you were under the antique store?" Curtis asked his mentor as Kimber rejoined the group.
Batman looked up from his terminal's monitor. He began to recall just what he'd witnessed in the basement. The memory only partially replayed as attempting to paint even the slightest mental picture of the terror beyond seemed to start a fire in his brain. They don't need to know about it, not yet. Not if we can stop it before it starts. "Nothing. Just an empty room." He shoved the memory aside and felt the burning at the back of his mind subside.
Kimber and Curtis exchanged glances behind Batman's back. "Just a room?" Curtis gave his mentor a second chance to share.
Kimber shook her head and gave her mentor a skeptical frown. "No... That can't be right. I was monitoring in the Batwing and there must have been an army just appearing out of nowhere down there! Saw the blips on the radar. And Robin was at the storefront with Green Arrow. They both can attest to seeing a legion of ninjas just spilling out into the streets!"
On the mention of Green Arrow, Curtis bit the inside of his cheek and looked away. "I sure hope he was able to escape..."
"I'm sure he's fine, bud." Kimber rested her elbow on Curtis' shoulder and gave him a smirk. "You pretty much filled that whole rooftop with smoke. If he didn't get away with all that cover, that's on him, not you."
Sensing a shift in tone and an opportunity to control and redirect the conversation, Batman swiftly changed the subject. "You both proved yourselves rather capable. You handled the hijackers surprisingly well."
"Why, thank you!" Kimber beamed, standing back up straight. "I did most of the work."
Curtis cleared his throat.
"Fine. Curt helped, too." The armored teen deflated a bit and rolled her eyes as she headed to the Armory to change. "Even if all he did was play chauffeur in an experimental death plane."
"Speaking of which." Batman fixed his eyes on Curtis. "It appears that you've been rooting around in my file system and know more than you should. I hope in your meddling you also learned how to run maintenance on the Batwing." He felt a bit of indignation rising up in the face of Curtis' circumvention of his systems and he had half a mind to fire the young man on the spot. But he felt another feeling fight down the fury: pride. Curtis had shown not just resourcefulness, but initiative and drive. And wasn't that a reason he'd brought them onboard in the first place? The other Batman was right, they were good. They had to be. "Next time check with me before using another vehicle."
Curtis laughed sheepishly as he removed his cape, heading for the Armory as well. "Sure thing, Boss."
"How did you learn to fly it?" Batman inquired after a moment's reflection.
"I downloaded the manual and read it. Found out that, like your other vehicles, the Batwing had a built-in flight simulator. My uncle got me into flight simulators as a kid and I even have a junior pilot's license. So, I spent a fair amount of my free time running the simulator. Just in case."
"Reading manuals and playing flight simulators for fun." Kimber stepped out of her changing stall in full civilian clothing. "Really living up to your stereotype."
Curtis' lips curled into a thin line as he exited his stall in casual clothes and tossed an insulted look her way. "Well, if it wasn't for me, I don't know how we would have handled that plane."
She stuck out her tongue at him, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a restrained, playful smile. "I know what I said."
He faked a sigh and looked over at Batman. "See what I went through tonight?"
"You're no picnic, either," Batman replied before he even realized it.
"Woah, did the Boss make a joke?" Kimber asked as she followed Curtis out to the exit.
"We're rubbing off on you!" Curtis called back into the 'Cave.
"Hardly," came the distant reply.
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Goren was tired. Dead tired. He hadn't seen sleep in two days and his daughter in four. The city was continuing on its downward spiral of corruption and decay. The week had barely started and already he had busted two crooked cops. Supervillains were making a comeback in full force and it was all he could do to stay sane enough to run the ailing police department. He had a feeling that things were only going to get worse. Worse than they were before the Justice Lords reigned supreme.
It took a few more seconds of fiddling with the machine in front of him before he decided to give up and try the fax another time. "What am I doing?" He wearily smacked his face with his palm and his hand slid down slowly. He took a deep breath and looked at his reflection in a window. Gray hairs dotted his stubble. His unshaven beard was definitely in need of some grooming.
His partner, Elden, wheeled over from his desk. "Why don't you take the day off, boss?"
"Why?"
"Heh, why do you think?" Elden stood from his chair and braced against his desk. "You've been here for two days now, and last night's round-up of the Jokerz cell in North Quarter followed by that averted travesty with the Senator's plane has surely done a number on you."
Goren shook his head as if he could shake the sleep out of his ears. "I just need more coffee, that's all."
Elden straightened up and though he retained his smirk, the mirth in his ace partially faded. "Buddy, I just watched you try to force the copier to send a fax for five minutes. You're tired, Goren. Go home and see your family." Elden's face fully morphed from jovial to concerned. "You have a family, remember? When was the last time you saw your daughter?"
Goren looked at the copy machine and wrung his hands in frustration. He was losing his mind. "What does it matter? She's starting school soon and somehow pulling a graveyard shift job. Between all that, she even finds the time to go on dates with that boyfriend of hers." He loosened his tie from his neck and took out his cell phone. He stared at his phone's lockscreen, a family portrait taken years earlier when Kimber was in grade school and they were a family of three instead of two. "Amazing how time flies. One day you're helping her practice for the chemistry bowl, the next you barely see her even though you live under the same roof."
Goren looked around the station. Two beat cops were doing their best to usher in a rowdy and crass drunk in handcuffs to the holding cells, Montoya was doing her best to work through some information with Jane, and Officer LaVerne was holding a stapled file as she walked with purpose to his office. He knew what she held: an incident report. Once she was inside his office, she added it to the mountain of paperwork still waiting for him at his desk and then marched right back out, headed directly for the evidence locker. Everyone was working and working hard, far be it from him to go to his house and relax with his daughter while his officers slaved away to keep the city safe.
"I'm tellin' ya, Goren, don't end up like Jim. Poor old coot lost his wife. The stress really gets to you." Elden looked over the department all running their various tasks, anxious and focused. His eyes landed on Bullock. The rough-around-the-edges detective was perusing a printed file as he chowed down on a donut-bacon sandwich. "This job will consume you if you let it."
"And his daughter? He had a daughter, too, right?"
Elden nodded with a shrug. "She moved out and got on with her life. They don't talk much from what I hear."
A cool sliver traced down his spine. As much as he looked up to the example Gordon had left the department, it was no secret that all his achievements came at the sacrifice of his personal life. Goren licked his lips nervously as if the right answer would descend from the heavens. When it was clear that such divine fanfare would come to pass, he made the decision for himself. "You sure you can handle this paperwork by yourself?"
Elden laughed. "This is why we have interns and rookies, Goren! Now, get outta here and go see your house for once!"
Goren Lee did just that.
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"Any plans for tomorrow?"
Curtis shrugged at Kimber's question as the two continued walking down the natural corridor that led to the outside world. "Not particularly, just work before patrol. Why?"
Kimber's smile widened in disbelief. "Wait, really? You'll just... be biding time until you have to come here?"
Curtis looked in her direction out of the corner of his eye for a moment before responding. "When you put it like that, it sounds pathetic."
"I just call it like I see it," she offered honestly.
"I'll be busy. WayneTech's given me a few courses I have to brush up on and then..." He paused mid explanation and looked back at her, a question forming in his mind. "Why?" he asked carefully.
Kimber bit the inside of her cheek as she drummed up the nerve to explain. "I have plans." The words erupted out of her mouth. "Mawk got arrangements to eat at some fancy restaurant in Star City. It's been awhile since me and him have gone out. Like out-out, you know? Haven't been on a real date in awhile." She cleared her throat and stopped walking. "So I'd need you to cover for me with the boss."
Curtis froze mid-step and swiveled to look at her. He could almost make out her expression in the dim light from the far exit of the cavern. Even so, he attempted to read her expression. It was a big ask she was putting on him and while he was confident he and Batman could take on the night together, Bruce already had a prior engagement that would keep him occupied for most of the night. "You know that Batman won't be available tomorrow night, right?"
Despite the dark, Kimber could feel his gaze resting on her, judging her. She looked away. "Yes," she replied tersely, fully aware of what she was asking of him.
"You talk to Bruce about it?"
A bolt of lightning seemed to hit Kimber as she twitched involuntarily. Her head shot in his direction, eyes wide. "No! No..." she stuttered out of fear rather than nervousness. "I... I don't think I have the nerve to ask for a night off. Knowing him, he'd likely say no out of spite. His love life's a mess, you know. I'm sure he'd demand mine be the same."
Curtis almost laughed. "You really think he'd be that petty?"
Kimber's expression shifted from fear to seriousness in the blink of an eye. "You don't?"
Her voice seemed to chill the air in the cavern and the look she gave him, even in the near darkness, actually gave Curtis a shiver. It wasn't often that Kimber would point out flaws in Bruce, she revered him in a strange sort of way, so hearing a legitimate critique from her gave him pause. He dropped his smile and met her gaze for a moment before looking up to the natural ceiling.
Anticipating Curtis' decline, Kimber tried harder to build her case. "Mawk asked me all gentlemanly-like this morning and I thought about declining... But then you launched me out of a high-flying aircraft at a wayward plane at cruising altitude! I need a mental break. I need a night where my life isn't on the line. Just one night to be a college kid." There was a moment of silence between the two. Eventually Kimber couldn't take the tension anymore and tried to lighten the mood. "And you wouldn't believe this place, bud! A four star Chinese restaurant headed by world-renowned chefs! I don't know how he could afford it." She resumed her walk to the exit.
Curtis followed her lead, likewise eager to leave behind the palpable unease. "Doesn't he work?"
"I mean, yeah." She nodded "He's got some job at a law office out there, but I don't know how that would be enough for this place. Did you know he wants to be a lawyer now? Apparently, he wants to be a prosecutor so he found an apprenticeship through the summer. Kind of like you." She smiled for the first time since they'd started walking and playfully punched Curtis' shoulder.
Curtis took the hit in stride but ignored it. "He could be making good money in Star City, then. Perhaps more than you'd expect. I get a decent enough stipend through my WayneTech position."
Kimber softly laughed a bit as the two finally stepped into the cool early morning. "That's 'cause you're a brown-noser!"
Curtis half-smiled back. "You're a jerk," he replied with a subdued but humorous tone.
"So is that a yes?" Kimber smiled back with finger-guns prodding him for an affirmation. "You'll cover for me?"
Curtis looked up as if thinking hard on Kimber's request, knowing full well he would cave anyway. "Alright, alright, You've twisted my arm." He wrung his hands in the air as he headed to the street.
"Yes! Thank you!" She lunged forward excitedly and gave Curtis a hug. She held onto him for a moment or two before releasing him just as suddenly with an abashed expression. "Sorry about that," she quickly said as she fixed her hair back behind her ear. "But thank you so, so much. We really need this. I really need this."
Curtis cleared his throat and shoved a hand in his pocket. "No worries," he said with a dismissive wave of his other hand. "I mean, how bad could one night without backup really be?" Curtis dryly replied as Kimber walked to her parked car. "Just make sure you have fun, Kim."
Kimber grinned as she opened her car door and started the wheel. "Hey, I'm not the one who will be alone tonight, bud," she replied as she started her car.
Curtis winced with a grin and threw her a thumbs down. She just stuck out her tongue and whipped out her phone to confirm with her boyfriend about the evening's plans.
It had been a while since she had been out on a date. Between school and Batgirl activities, Kimber hardly had time for herself or Mawk. She hadn't heard much from him in a week or so, and she had seen him less. It didn't help that his apprenticeship required him to be in Star City so often. But today would be perfect. The last month or so may have been rocky with last night's plane heist and the earlier breach at Arkham, but finally it would be a whole day free for herself. "Tonight will just be me and him."
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A man in a high-tech crusader-inspired set of caped armor strode down a dark, twisting hallway. He seemed almost out of place in the space, his light and almost angelic garb standing out in stark contrast to the dank and decrepit scenery around him. But there was something off about the angelic man haunting the hall, something dark. The weight with which the man walked seemed heavy and the posture of the man seemed less regal and more aggressive. Azra'il continued his march to the door at the end of the hall even as he heard light but disorganized footsteps chasing after him.
Behind him trailed Scarecrow, the mad professor of fear, doing his best to catch up. The disgraced doctor still wore his trademark mask and garb that made him look more like a wandering evangelical than an actual scarecrow. As he ran, his oily black hair splayed out behind him like a necrotic aura and his tattered cloak fluttered like ravaged wings. Under one hand he carried a plain notebook with a pen neatly pinned to its cover. "I said to wait for me!"
Ahead, Azra'il ignored the doctor and kept his even but quick pace up. He waited for no one. The plan would come to pass whether folks were ready or not. He thought about responding but opted against it. Scarecrow would catch up soon enough. Instead, he focused on the door, now coming into view, and the two guards that posted on either side of it.
As he approached, one of the guards nodded her covered head in simple acknowledgement of his presence. Her face was covered by dark cloth but for her eyes. To a layperson, she appeared to be a ninja, even Azra'il had identified the Society of Shadows honor guard as such but Ra's al Ghul had quickly set him straight. He stood before the two kunoichi and they bowed at the waist before him. He reciprocated.
"Is it time?" one of the guards asked.
Azra'il nodded. "It is," he replied with a rather neutral tone. "Open it."
The two guards quickly manned the door, one undoing the lock as the other prepared to pull the heavy metal door open. The door itself was an ancient sort of thing as old as the island fortress itself. With a weighty clunk the lock was undone and then the door was wrenched open. Rusty, unlubed hinges creaked and squeaked as the door swung open and Azra'il had to resist the urge to cringe.
"Do you think it will work?" Scarecrow had caught up to Azra'il in the time it took to unlock the door, giving Azra'il something other than the disconcerting door to focus on.
"I'm not too certain," Azra'il replied honestly. "I was not blessed to observe the Pit's test subject, so I don't know if it can restore what's been taken." The sight before him seemed less like a door being carefully opened and more like the yawning of a hungry maw. He averted his eyes and looked at companion. "But I have faith. It is all that we can have at times like this." He placed a comforting hand on Scarecrow's shoulder and smiled. He knew that Crane wouldn't care for an appeal to religion as he cared more for hard science and evidence, but he couldn't help it. It was all he had to hold on to. It was all that had gotten him this far.
The door slammed against its metal stopper; the cell was open. Azra'il leaned slightly to the side to get a better look inside but saw nothing. There was no light inside the cell and since there were no windows aside from the simple barred slit built into the door, none of the early morning light streamed in. He was tempted to inquire if the occupant was still present within, but when he heard the slight scraping of cloth on stone, he knew the answer. He steeled his nerves and stepped into the cell.
Scarecrow watched as Azra'il was seemingly swallowed by the darkness inside the cell. There was a sound of a scuffle and a grunt that sounded almost like a giggle. Then, came the sound of two people walking: one in armor and the other barefoot. Azra'il emerged from the dark first and he violently pushed a silent white body forward. The man stumbled the first few steps and squinted. Even though the light was dim, for one who'd been plunged in darkness for weeks, it must have been as harsh as the sun.
"Where are we going?" the white man asked as he shakily regained his footing. He looked over at Scarecrow with a confused expression. "Jonathon? Is that you, old friend?"
Scarecrow adjusted the noose around his neck with one lanky hand as if it were a business tie. "Ra's al Ghul says that the End is coming. We all have a role to play. Even you." He nodded at their captive. "Let's go." He prodded the confused man to walk forward as he and Azra'il watched him from the rear.
"Soon and very soon, indeed." Azra'il muttered under his breath as if it were a promise longed for. "Do you fear it, Scarecrow?"
The mad doctor shook his head. "Fear it? No! I embrace it! The End will do wonders for my studies!"
The glee in his voice slightly put Azra'il off. It was almost as if he didn't fully understand just what had to happen. He had to be forgiven, though. He'd been chosen, not for his faith but for his skills. Favor would be shown to him. Hopefully. "Do what you will during the End, doctor. Just know that after the epilogue, your studies and papers mean nothing."
"Perhaps to you." They rounded a corner in the island caverns. "But they are my life's, and death's, work."
The trio walked the rest of the way in silence, descending into the island itself by way of a narrowing hall. Only every so often did the white man utter a nervous chuckle or ask a question… Questions that always went ignored. Eventually, the three arrived at a door made of wood with metal bands preserving its structure. Even with the metal brace attempting to hold it together, the door still did not properly fit in its frame.
"We're here." Azra'il kicked open the misaligned wooden door and the two freaks guided their companion inside an earthen chamber.
Before them stood Ubu and several members of the League of Assassins. The small group was gathered around a pit containing a bubbling green liquid that seemed to almost glow a sickly green color. It was this color alone that illuminated the natural chamber. All eyes turned to the three new arrivals and watched as Azra'il and Scarecrow led the now-nervous man to the edge of the pit.
"What's going on?" The man's question was again ignored.
"We have his personal effects," said a nearby shinobi holding a cardboard box filled with clothing.
"Then let us not waste any more time," Ubu growled with a tinge of impatience. "Toss him in."
Without warning, Azra'il shoved the white-skinned man into the green bubbling waters and watched the liquid quickly overtake him. It seemed almost like the liquid itself was sucking its struggling prey in. Azra'il took a step away from the edge as the flailing, drowning man splashed the Lazarus liquid onto the rim of the pit in his attempt to save himself.
The turbulent struggle in the water continued as the poor soul tried his best to fight to break the surface. The man's usually calm disposition was nearly gone as he struggled and fought whatever unearthly forces were trying to drown him. A few times, his head would break the surface and he would call out to Scarecrow for help in abject terror.
Scarecrow simply watched with grim fascination. "Incredible."
"Feh." Ubu was unimpressed.
Eventually, the flailing in the waters subsided as the man exhausted his energies and succumbed to his fate. He sank beneath the waves with a final gurgle. The struggle seemed to take forever, but in actuality it had likely only been a minute or two before the pit claimed him. A few tense moments passed with no sign of life from within the waters.
Scarecrow spoke up. "He is dead now, yes?"
Azra'il felt a pang of anxiety. "Have faith," he said, more to himself than Scarecrow. "Just have faith."
Another half minute passed and the chamber remained silent. Impatiently, Scarecrow took a few steps forward to the edge and leaned ever so slightly forward in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the body.
Splash!
A white hand shot out of the green gloop with vigor and latched onto the shore at Scarecrow's foot. The drowned man slowly rose from the depths of the pool, pulling himself out awkwardly with one hand. Crane wheeled back from the edge to make room and as he did, he noticed that the twin scars from Lord Superman's heat vision remained and plastered over the man's face was the same docile but wide-eyed look of a lobotomized patient.
Ubu turned to leave. "We tried. I will inform the master of the situation." He looked at a nearby guard. "Kill him."
The ninja nodded and moved in to put down the villain formerly known as the Joker with his blade drawn.
As the ninja approached, the former Joker looked at his bare hands as if they were foreign limbs. "Who has my gloves?" He asked in a calm voice.
The shinobi in charge of the Joker's clothing looked around at the others and, after being given the go-ahead from Ubu, he withdrew the Joker's classic purple gloves from the box and tossed them to the drenched man.
"Thank you." Joker picked up his gloves and pulled on one, wiggling his fingers inside it a bit. "Just as I remember." Then he tossed the other glove in the face of the ninja that had advanced on him. Instinct kicked in and the ninja flinched, raising his blade to slash at the glove. The Joker took advantage of the distraction and grabbed the ninja's head with his gloved hand. Electricity flowed from his glove into the assassin.
In a scream of pain, the assassin attempted to put his blade to the Joker's arm, but his arm did not respond. The electric current running through his body had locked up nearly every muscle. The madman was in control. Joker kicked the man's knee and then took him to the ground at the mouth of the Lazarus Pit. With the slightest of cackles, Joker dropped his knee into the man's neck and twisted with his hands. An audible crack punctuated the ninja's pained screams of protest.
After the scream died in the man's broken throat, the Joker forced the head to turn all the way around and kicked the dead body into the pit. Moments later, the reborn shinobi breached the surface with confused screaming, alive again but with his head not at all in the right orientation.
Those present looked from the screaming man to the Joker. He wore a wide, unsettling grin and had a wild look in his eye. "Now that's comedy."
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Kimber stepped out of her room and into the kitchen. After a long morning bath, she was set to just waste the day away until the evening. No school stuff, no bat stuff, just Kimber stuff. As much as she enjoyed her work with the Bat, she had to admit she'd been burning the candle at both ends. She deserved the rest. Especially after taking down that damned plane. Greedily, she popped open a tub of ice cream and removed a spoon from the drawer. "Come to mama."
"Kimber?" The front door slammed open and her father walked around the corner into the enclave that was the kitchen. "Well, surprise of surprises; you are home!"
The soon-to-be college freshman just stared at her father like a deer in headlights. In one arm she cradled the tub of ice cream, and in the other hand she held a spoonful shamelessly to her open mouth.
"Relax, Kim," Goren reassured her, laughing. "I think I can turn a blind eye this time." Then he added with a wink, "If you are okay with buying a new tub for the rest of us to enjoy."
Kimber cautiously swallowed the cold cream. "Sorry," she gurgled back to her dad with the spoon still in her mouth.
"It's fine, Kimber." Goren exhaled as the house's stillness crept in. "Just make sure to replace it." He set his briefcase on the floor and plopped down in his favorite chair. Without thinking, he began fishing for the television remote in the chair's side pocket.
"Isn't this weird?" Kimber shoved another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth as she came over to his side and sat on the arm of the chair. "We're home at the same time."
"First time in what feels like months," Mr. Lee agreed as he retrieved the remote. Then a serious look crossed his face and he asked with worry, "Did you find the place okay?"
"Of course, Papa! I'm in college now." Kimber rolled her eyes. "I know how to use GPS. Going to see what's on TV?"
Goren looked at the remote control in his hands for a moment and then made a conscious decision to put it back in the pocket. He shook his head. "I was, but now I'm thinking we could just hang out. Maybe play a board game? I've been aching for a rematch on that game of chess, you know." His eye twinkled a bit.
"Really? From, like, last year?" Kimber shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.
"Yeah..." Her father trailed off a bit as the harrowing experience of the last holiday season was again fresh in his mind. He looked up at his daughter happily scooping another serving. "Do you have anything planned tonight? The next installment of Mon Capitane is out, we could catch it at the drive-in. Oh! We could have dinner at Arthur's Court! Remember that place? You used to love taking pictures with the princess there."
Kimber set the now quarter-eaten tub of ice cream to the side and whipped her nose with the back of her hand. "Uh, actually yeah. I do have plans, Papa. Mawk's taking me to dinner this evening out in Star City. I thought I sent you a text about that?"
"Oh yeah." He laughed ruefully at himself for forgetting. "I guess it slipped my mind, Kim."
Kimber looked at her father and caught a sadness in his eyes. Geez, We've really become strangers in the same house. And in such a short time, she thought. "Well, hey." She stood dramatically to break the dour atmosphere. "My date isn't for another few hours at least and you know I don't take too long to get ready... So I think I've got enough time to beat your butt at chess again. Then maybe I can take a victory lap with a few rounds of that trivia game you like so much?"
She approached the cabinets that held the numerous board games that her father had shared with her over the years. She had to wipe a thin layer of dust off a few of the boxes before finding the one she wanted. As she brought over the box containing the chessboard and its pieces, she caught a melancholy smile on her father's face.
I miss you, too, Papa.