Pt 4: Old Friends and Tears
word count: 2k
warnings: major violence, adult language, and angst
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It feels like you can’t stop driving away from the tunnel. Like you can’t put enough distance between it.
You keep thinking about Arkham Knight following you, which spurs you to drive faster and further. After making a loop around Miagani and ensuring that no one has followed you, you swiftly turn into an alley.
Switching off the bike, you take a few heavy breaths, calming your thumping heart. Your mind is still whirling from the fight.
You nearly jump out of your skin when a voice calls down to you.
“Almost didn’t recognize it was you.” Nightwing flips down into the alley. Stepping off your bike, you walk towards him, meeting him halfway. Dick opens his arms, and you lean in to hug him. He tightens his arms and slightly rocks you back and forth.
One of Dick’s many underappreciated talents is giving amazing hugs.
“Look at your fancy new suit. You’ve finally made it big.” He grabs your shoulders before pretending to wipe away a tear.
You playfully roll your eyes, “Always so dramatic. What are you doing here?”
He gasps and tosses a hand over his heart. “What? Not happy to see me?”
Giving him a deadpan look that he only laughs at, he finally tells you. “Bruce is looking into North Refrigeration, which is a job I’ve been working for months,” you interrupt in shock. “So he called you?”
“....Not directly. Alfred asked what I knew about North Refrigeration. He said Bruce was about to look into them. Figured he wouldn’t mind the extra hand.”
“Oh, so you invited yourself over, got it.”
Dick shakes his head before he gets serious.
“I heard about Barb. How are you holding up?”
“I’m just ready to have her back, even if I have to kick Scarecrow’s ass myself. What about you?”
“She can take care of herself. I’m surprised Scarecrow hasn’t thrown her back at us.” You both chuckle. You look at his eyes, which show unspoken fear. He’s worried about her, not like he’d ever say. The ever-persistent Nightwing, always the big brother, always calm.
“I know. I find it strange that Arkham Knight knew she was Oracle and, more importantly, where she was.” You sigh before continuing. “It makes me wonder if he’s been lurking and watching before all this.”
“You never know. It’s made it very clear that no matter how careful you are, there’s always a risk.”
Before you can respond, he presses his fingers on his earpiece. After a beat of silence, he speaks, “I gotta run. Bruce is waiting for me, but I’ll see you before I return to Bludhaven. I promise.”
“Call me if you need me!” You shout as he scales up the side of the building. Once he’s back on the rooftop, he waves goodbye before dashing away.
You roll the bike to the back of the alley and throw a black tarp over it, hoping it’ll blend in with the shadows. You decide to go back to the rooftops for a while. It’s easier to keep watch when no one hears you coming.
Getting up to the roof the same way Dick did, you walk to the opposite side and look out over the roads. You watch as groups of men run around beating each other, tipping over trash cans, and occasionally almost getting hit by cars.
Nearby, a piercing screech echoes out, making you wince. Startled by the unexpected sound, you quickly turn your head, scanning the area for any signs of movement. Your eyes land on a bird flying in the distance. You watch in sheer horror as the “bird” approaches. As it comes into focus, you realize it’s an enormous bat-like creature, and it is now barreling directly towards you.
“What the fuck!” You exclaim out loud, running towards the edge of the roof.
It gets to you before you can jump onto the street below. You crouch down, hands covering your head. It swoops overhead, and a piercing shriek fills the air, chilling you to the bone while the colossal wings whip chilled wind around you. The large beast lands on the street below, and men yell in panic, filling the air with their screams.
You stand there blinking momentarily, watching it move in a circle, screeching out what sounds like mournful cries. You take in the pale, clammy skin, the white hollowed-out eyes, and the sharp teeth protruding from its mouth. As you think about your next move, it’s too late. The creature takes off into the sky again. The massive wings bring it toward your rooftop, and you crouch low, bracing for its talons to cut you. Once again, you’re spared as it veers left at the last second. You begin running after it but aren’t fast enough to catch up. It rockets up into the sky, and you lose sight of it as it flies behind the skyline.
“What the fuck?” You whispered.
On the other side of Gotham, the Arkham Knight enters a room where Oracle is being held. He leans against the doorway and watches her silently. Barbra glares back.
The silence is broken. “What the hell do you want?”
A robotic chuckle is let out. “Oh, Barbra, Barbra, Barbra. When did you become so rude?”
“Probably when someone manhandled me out of my home, got me thrown from a car, and locked me up in this room.”
“Hmm, yes, that was a bit rougher than I had intended. But honestly, you have Batman and that other birdy to thank for that.”
He stalks over to her and circles around the chair. She stays steady, showing no fear in the face of danger. A skill most will credit to Batman, but it’s a trait directly from her father.
She slightly jumps as his hand clamps down on her shoulder, and his helmet lets out an echoing hiss as he opens it. He tosses it on her lap. She glances down, wondering what he was doing.
“Don’t worry, Babs. You’re just a pawn in this game, so as of right now, you’re safe.” Why did he sound so familiar? Why did she know that voice? Barbra racked her brain, trying to figure out who that voice belonged to.
He walks around, and her eyes land on his face; a gasp leaves her mouth. Her eyes must be playing a trick on her. Scarecrow must have injected her with fear toxin or gassed the room and she just didn’t realize it. That would be the only logical explanation for why Jason is standing before her dressed as the man who has been terrorizing Gotham.
“Jason? H-How?” Her voice, barely above a whisper, is breathy with surprise.
“I know. Long time no see, Babs.” He’s fully facing her now, and she can see how the years have affected him.
His blue eyes were bloodshot and sunken, with dark purple circles underneath. On his left cheek, a scarred letter J grabbed her attention, and her eyes linger on it. She notices a recent scratch on his throat before he turns away from her.
“Jason! Why? Why are you doing this? How could you do this?” Her pain laces her voice. Tears glisten in her eyes, and confusion wrinkles her face.
“Like I said, you can thank Batman. Everything that has happened and that will happen is all because of him.” He walks towards the door.
“He mourned for you! We all did Jason.”
“Bullshit! It took all of about three months before I was replaced. Three months before I was forgotten! I was still alive while you guys were moving on!”
“We didn’t know, Jason. Please understand.”
Jason’s out the door before Barbra can say anything else. Once the door closes, she lets the tears fall out of her eyes.
Jason clicks his helmet back in place before entering the surveillance room. The monitors light up, showing him the streets of Gotham, the Batmobile speeding after the tanks and the APCs. A screen to the left side of the display catches his attention.
It’s Vulture. The one that escaped him. He watches her take on a checkpoint with eight of his men inside it. His eyes tracked her every move, learning her fight patterns.
As Vulture knocked down a medic, one soldier holding two stun batons crept behind her, pressing the sparking stun batons against her back. Jason leans in as he watches her collapse to the floor. The three militiamen circle over her as she lies on the ground.
One bends down and once he’s close, she wraps her legs around his shoulders and springs her body upwards. They crash to the floor and Jason watches as the head of the militia bounces against the ground.
She stands, her hand reaching down to her waist, and pulls a small blade from her belt. It’s then hurled at the soldier with the batons, causing the baton in his right hand to slip out, dropping to the ground. With a leg sweep, Vulture disarms him, snatching the baton in a single fluid motion.
She swiftly turns to the other soldier and uses the baton to jab at his crotch, forcing him to drop to his knees. As he’s on his knees, she quickly flips to the other side of him, gaining some distance from the last soldier. She brings the baton down on the kneeling soldier’s neck, sending him sprawling face-first onto the ground.
Now, she’s facing the last soldier. The soldier runs and grabs a wooden crate off the ground. He launches the crate towards Vulture, but she pulls the crate out of the air and to her chest. Using the wall for leverage, she launches herself into the air, smashing the box directly onto his head. He stumbles back, and her roundhouse kick connects with his chest, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
She stalks over to the unconscious head commander and smashes the communicator, making the checkpoint walls collapse.
Jason presses the comm in his ear.
Having let go of the communicator, you allow it to crash on the ground. A crackling noise comes from the commander’s earpiece, followed by the Knight’s voice.
“Don’t get too happy, birdy. I’m still seeing and hearing everything all over Gotham. Maybe I should be the new Oracle.”
Your blood runs cold.
You snatch the earpiece out of the commander’s ear, and the Knight laughs on the other end. Pushing the button down on the comm, you respond.
“Maybe you should stop being such a coward and show your face. Or do you hide behind that mask because your face is too mangled?”
The laughter from the Knight is unlike the previous ones. It is not mocking you or sarcastic. It’s dark, and you can feel the hatred behind it. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“Just wait. This mangled mess will be the last thing you see with your dying breath.”
You waste no time leaving the scene.
The projectors around Gotham whirl to life. It’s a holding cell, and the camera zooms in on the person inside. It’s Barbra, slumped over in her wheelchair. Scarecrow’s scratchy voice comes through the speakers.
“How does it feel to see your city on the brink of ruin, your friends in the clutches of death?”
The screen distorts and then it’s Scarecrow’s face on the screen.
“You stretched yourself too far this time, Batman, and now your failure is all but complete. As that final, dying breath escapes her body, she will know you are the one who failed her.” The audio screeches out as the screen turns black.
You press down on your comm.
“Alfred, where is she being held?”
“Master Bruce said a safe house in Chinatown. He’s on his way now.”
Shit. You’re nowhere near Chinatown.
“Thanks, Alfred.”
You begin driving your bike as fast as you can, zipping around corners, and taking shortcuts through the infrastructure of Gotham.
As you get to the middle of Chinatown, you stop the bike and grapple to the nearest building. Listening closely for anything that will point you in the right direction.
Closing your eyes, you try as hard as you can. A minute of stillness passes, and then you hear it like a whisper on the wind. The distant, muffled thuds of gunshots punctuated Scarecrow’s voice, raspy and echoing. Your legs start running before you realize it, your heart pounding as fear takes over. With a rush of wind in your ears, you leap from the rooftop to the next, landing softly in front of a heavy wooden door.
You’re about to open it when Bruce comes out. Without Barbra.
“Where is she? Was it a trap? Is she somewhere else?”
His blue eyes lock on yours. You can see the pain in them. His jaw tightens.
“No, no, no, Bruce.” You’re pacing back and forth.
“I was too late. Scarecrow he….was punishing me. He killed her.” Voice heavy with guilt.
“You’re lying! She’s in there.” You need to get into the building. You need to see that she’s fine and that she’s not really in there. Heading for the door, Batman blocks you.
“No, I’m not letting you in there.”
“You don’t give me orders! I-I need to see Barbra.”
He speaks your name softly. “She’s gone.”
You turn your back on him, taking a few steps away. Bruce does the same.
You dodge Bruce with a quick movement, adrenaline surging through you, your eyes fixed on the door as you sprint towards it. His arms reach out and grab you, pulling you into his chest and lifting you off the ground like a child throwing a tantrum. You thrash in his arms, your movements frantic, as you try to break free from his hold. His grip on you becomes a vise-like clamp, his muscles tightening as he pulls away from the door.
“Stop it, Bruce! Let me go! It’s Barbra, Bruce, it’s Barbra, please!”
“You don’t need to see. It won’t change anything.” He holds you until you’ve calmed down.
Bruce, let’s go, setting you on your feet. Your shoulders sag and you look at the ground.
“I’m headed to GCPD to talk to Ivy. She was immune to the fear toxin.”
“You’re hoping she’ll help against the Cloudburst?” Your voice sounds small, even to your ears.
“She doesn’t have a choice.”
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