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seriousficTitle: Duality
Fandom: Nolanverse Batman, Superman Returns
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,055
Characters/Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Selina Kyle, Harvey Dent
Previous Part: Chapter 27
Next Part: Chapter 29
Summary: Bruce and Barbara spend a night on the town.
Arkham wasn’t just a building. Since the break-out, it’d been moved to the property its founder, Jeremiah Arkham, had set aside in his will. It was a mansion built for that purpose, then lived in when the city had gone with a converted prison in the Narrows. When that was closed down, the mansion was supremely easy to adapt into a high-security facility. Perhaps the house had looked less foreboding without bars on the windows. But Harleen doubted it.
She flashed her ID badge to the guard and he buzzed her in. It had full security clearance. Since her ground-breaking work on Jonathan Crane’s psychosis. She had become Arkham’s next rising star. The fact that she was treating Arkham’s last rising star didn’t deter her in the slightest. She had a new patient who would launch her career to even greater heights.
Jervis Tetch had been developing Active Denial System technology before Waynecorp’s new CEO had canned the project… and him. Tetch’s mind had snapped. He’d stalked four women, then used nerve-override technology in his hat to make them commit elaborate suicides. By the design, the hat let him feel what his victims felt as they killed themselves. Obviously some kind of self-loathing at work. Commissioner Loeb’s failure to capture him, and Gordon’s role in the capture of Waylon Jones, had resulted in their role reversal. And now, after a five-state killing spree and the actions of a PI named John Jones, Tetch was coming home.
Harleen couldn’t wait to get inside that head of his. Her blonde hair and gymnastic body would make her just his type.
But while she waited for the state to deliver him, Harleen paid a visit to Dr. Isley. The redhead was a bit of an eco-freak – how many times had she invited Harleen to weekend in a back-to-nature camp? – but her research was amazing. She’d adopted data from one of their patients, Dr. Woodrue, and now they were using it in Waylon’s therapy. His sessions with ‘the Green’ always civilized him considerably.
“How’s the suitcase?” Harleen asked gaily. Isley was controlling the flow of pheromones to the next room, where they could see Waylon pruning flowers through reinforced glass.
Isley gestured to the glass. “Haven’t had to replace a pane all month. But I’ve been running tests after sessions and he’s getting healthier. The scar tissue Batman left him with is healing, his muscles are increasing in density, his epidermolytic hyperkeratosis is coming to resemble armor, and his teeth are getting sharper.”
“How’s he sharpening them?”
“I don’t think he is. Should we stop the therapy?”
Harleen tapped on the glass. “No. I want to see what happens next. It could be his big contribution to society”
Isley smiled. “And he’s complaining of pain in his gums. I’ve prescribed him some pain pills.”
“That’s nice of you. How’s your other research coming?”
“I’d be happy to give you a sample. We could go clubbing, you could see for yourself.”
“Nah. You can if you want, but pheromones are too squicky for me.”
“Like I need them. It just speeds up the process, lets me get right to what I want.”
“And what about our mysterious benefactor? Is she as moral as us?”
“I don’t think she needs any help either. Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything men haven’t been doing for generations. High time they got a taste of their own medicine.”
“Down, girl. We both know men are only good for one thing.”
“And even that they’re not always up for. Speaking of, would you like to come over after work? I’ve been working on a variant of the pheromones and it’s better than the cannabis I grew in college. I tried it before eating some sushi and I could feel the life subsuming itself to my aura. It was like being God…”
“No thanks. I want one more look at Tetch’s case file.”
“Hugo was the one who declared him unfit to stand trial. Maybe you should chat with him.”
“Good idea.”
Through the window, Killer Croc picked one of the last human teeth out of his increasing saurian maw.
***
Bruce spoke for the first time in over an hour, his voice less… awed than the almost pained exhortations Talia’d grown to expect. “I have to go.”
“So soon?” She curled closer to him, reminding him of the feel of her flesh. “The sun just set.”
“I have work to do.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“I’m Batman.”
Talia perked an eyebrow and though her lazy smile didn’t get any wider, it seemed to deepen almost. “Really. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back.”
***
After a quick ride in the rocket-car, with Batman even more quiet than usual, they took a ladder up into the drywall of a condemned building, knocked over an empty dresser covering a hole in the wall to leave, then painstakingly moved it back into position before they left. The stairwell didn’t look like OSHA had been consulted.
“We’ll use grapple-guns to get to the roof.” Batman took out his and showed it to Barbara. There was a dial on the side like the safety on a pistol, though it had the same clicking presets as the cape control. “Safety.” He turned it: Klik. “Magnetic.” Klik. “Grappling hook.” Klik. “Glue round. Magnetic and hook are reusable, glue isn’t. Use those sparingly, even though they stick to anything.”
“I read the manual.” Barbara set her own grapple-gun to magnetic and fired. High above, something wooden cracked and the cable fell.
“Helps if there’s metal.”
“Lay off, it’s my first webshooter.” She switched to hook and fired. The head of the line sprouted prongs in flight. It hooked onto the railing and held fast when Barbara gave it a tug. She proudly holstered the gun, automatically feeding the line to her belt-winch. “Last one there has to clean the guano out of the Batcave.”
“Stop calling it that.”
“Sorry. Last one there has to clean the bat shit out of the Batcave.”
They climbed up through a hole in the roof, Batman swinging up effortlessly, Batgirl bitterly having to throw a leg over the lip of the hole to pull herself up. The air smelled different. It was alive with the night, the hunt. Barbara had heard wolves howl, lions roar. She now knew how they felt.
Batman stepped up onto the parapet and slipped his hands into pockets on the inside of his cape. Like a switchblade, wings burst out of his cape’s dark folds. “I don’t suppose I have to explain how these work.”
“Memory fabric, meet electric current,” Barbara guessed. “Does that mean my gloves can double as a taser?”
“Battery’s too small for that kind of charge. And it’d be a bad idea to siphon energy from your wings.”
“Just thought a bat-joy buzzer could come in handy… no pun—“
“Follow my lead.” He stepped off the roof, deploying his wings as he approached terminal velocity. The sudden shift catapulted him to the next roof over, which was much lower than Barbara.
Batgirl gulped and extended her wings, then jumped. She needn’t have worried. Her wings caught the air and bent it into a pillar to hold her up, letting her glide with ease. She flew to the next rooftop… and a hundred feet over it. She tried to turn around, but her efforts sent her into a vicious barrel roll.
She corkscrewed through a window, landing between an elderly couple and their TV. A contestant bought a vowel behind her.
“Excuse me, folks,” she said, dusting herself off. “I knew I should’ve taken that left turn at Albuquerque…”
She dashed to the broken window and dived out, this time waiting until she was thirty feet above her target to pull up. Her downward momentum shifted into a burst of lateral motion that carried her halfway across the roof before she opened her fists, cutting of f the electrical current. She landed ass over teakettle to sprawl on her back. Batman stood over her.
“Any landing you can walk away from?”
“Congratulations. The bank robbers you were flying down to capture have cracked the safe and made their getaway while you were busy vandalizing an apartment.”
“Hey, I’m gonna pay for that!”
They went down four blocks, mostly leaping across alleys, swinging to cross streets. Batman pointed at some graffiti on a billboard.
“This is Toro territory. We’ll start here.”
It didn’t take long. A woman screamed and Batman moved like a bloodhound that had just caught a scent. Barbara abruptly realized how much he had slowed down so she could keep up. She caught a glimpse of his scalloped cape as it was sucked over a parapet, his voice cutting its way across their radio. “Observe. Do not interfere. Use your nightvision.”
Batgirl turned it on. Visors snapped shut over her mask’s eyeholes, turning night into day. There was a small army of Toros occupying the trash-strewn alley. Most were heckling the woman they’d chased to the chain-link fence dead-end, pulling at her dress, her hair. Some were watching from the fire escape, munching on microwave popcorn.
Batman started with them.
He landed on the empty top level of the fire escape, silent except for the flutter of his wings, then slithered down to a lower level. Two Toros there. It was like a lightning strike. One was bashed against the brick building, left sprawled on the grating. The other was dumped over the side to land in a pile of garbage bags, screaming until he got there.
The Toros looked up in time to see Batman swing down to the lower level. His boots landed squarely in the chests of two Toros dangling their legs over the side. The pair avalanched down the stairs to the next lower level.
There were four more Toros on that level, once sharing a bong, now pulling weapons. Batman bulldozed through them, leaving one hanging off the railing. He jumped off the other side of the fire escape and landed in the dark mouth of the alley. The Toros on the ground saw the shot and took it. Their bullets sparked off the dumpster hidden in the shadows, the one Batman had taken cover behind. Barbara wondered how long it had taken him to work out this plan of attack.
“Batgirl, get the hostage out.”
Batgirl drew her discus. It had grooves in the center for her to hold and sawteeth on the sides to cut through most anything. She clicked the thumb toggle that set it spinning and jumped down.
She landed on the other side of the chain-link fence, painfully, and cut a hole in the fence. She yanked the hostage through it as Batman sent a handful of Batarangs scything into the Toros. One of them noticed the great escape. He forced himself through and after them, cocking his fist for a punch. Batgirl blocked it with a swiped trash can lid, then broadsided him with it. He went down.
Barbara looked over him in time to see an oversized Batarang fly from Batman’s hand. Its wings glowed with electricity. It flew down the alley, shocking several of the throng. Batman flooded in after it. By the time the Electrorang sparked against the fence, those who hadn’t fled were unconscious. He took a braid of zip-ties from a pouch on his belt and tossed it to Barbara. “You know the drill.”
“Ah, yes, the glamorous life of a crimefighter.” She bent to cuff the first of many. “When do I see some real action?”
“When you’re ready.”
“I am ready!”
Batman turned over one of the gangers with his foot. “This one spoke with a Boston accent. He wears Toro colors, but doesn’t have Gotham tats. What’s he doing here?”
“Enjoying the fine dining?”
“Doubt it.” Batman looped a length of cord around the man’s leg, threw the other end of the lowest rung of the fire escape’s ladder, and then hoisted him up. “Hurry up with the cuffs.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Shoot the breeze.” Batman jabbed the ganger with a stimulant, bringing him about. Batgirl grudgingly went about her rounds.
The Toro was a big man. The stimulant took a while to work. But when he woke up, there was no grogginess—just what looked like a killer headache. “Oh fuck, it’s you!”
Batman gave a hard shove that sent him swinging into the wall. “What’re you doing in Gotham?”
“Showing your mom a good time!”
Batman dragged the Toro to the other end of the alley and let him swing. When he hit, there was a sound of loose bricks chattering. “You should never make me ask twice.”
“The Joker’s got your number, Bat! You don’t kill!”
“That’s right, Batman.” Batgirl put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t kill people. That’s a lot easier than hiding the bodies. There’s only so many deaths the commissioner can cover up.”
“One more won’t make much of a difference. And this one’s pissing me off.”
“Alright, just don’t make a mess like last time. My ears are still ringing from the screams.”
Batman brandished a Batarang. “Can’t scream without a tongue.”
“Okay, Jesus, okay!” The Toro flung his arms in surrender. “Joker’s offering a cool thou to anyone who shows up with a rap sheet and a piece, with more to come! He’s got a fucking army!”
“Where?”
“Moves around. He’s got an ice cream truck! Yeah! Full of cash, being driven to every crime-hive in the city. Gives people apartment keys, ammo--”
“Why!?”
“He’s the Joker. When does he ever make sense?”
Batman scowled and kicked the Electrorang up into his hand. Folded it up, nested it in his belt. “We’re done here.”
“Hey! What about me?” the Toro cried.
Batman let go of the line, dumping him on his head. “Have a nice nap.”
***
They stood on a water tower, the wind plying their capes like fists opening and closing. Batgirl tried out the zoom on her visor. She scoured the streets for ice cream trucks.
“I have a contact inside Joker’s gang. I could ask for the route.”
“Too late for that. If they’ve come from as far as Boston, Joker has his army. I’ll pump someone else for information.”
***
Selina Kyle’s place was an abandoned warehouse converted into a studio apartment. That fit Bruce’s theory of her being Catwoman. Villains always hid in abandoned warehouses. He’d have to talk with Lucius about tearing a few down.
Batgirl hoped he hadn’t noticed how much she’d enjoyed riding on the back of the Batcycle, her arms wrapped around his waist…
“Guard the bike. Don’t touch the controls. Touch the controls and you’re fired.”
“’Guard the bike’? Who’d be stupid enough to mess with your ride?”
“Remember not to touch the controls.”
Batgirl rolled her eyes.
***
The security gave away the lie of the slum. Batman bypassed it and prowled up into Selina’s apartment. As expected, it was a diamond in the rough. Luxurious carpeting, expensive furniture, beautiful artwork. Most of it reported stolen. A shower ran in the bathroom. Batman forced the door.
“You have no class, you know that?” came a voice from behind him. Selina, wrapping herself in a towel.
“How—“
“I could hear you coming a mile away. You’re too late to wash my back, though.”
“An ice cream truck distributing weaponry. What do you know about it?”
Selina stepped out of her towel and into a dress. Her body was as beautiful as expected. Her scars were anything but. “A clown came by to ask permission for safe passage.”
“Ask?”
“Just because you’re king of Gotham doesn’t mean there isn’t room for a duchess. Countess. Baroness. Queen. Which do you prefer?” She spun, suddenly against him. “You know the feeling.” Her fingernails traced the bat over his beating heart. “The thrill of the hunt, the rush of punishment.”
“You let Joker onto your turf?”
“I don’t have the resources to fight a war. Joker’s scum, but I have bigger rats to catch.”
“People are dying.”
“They’re always dying. I’m supposed to care just cuz they’re rich?”
“You’re supposed to care, period.”
“I do. About East End. When the rest of the world cares about us, maybe I’ll return the favor.”
***
Batgirl leaned on the Batcycle. Batman hadn’t said anything about that. Her only ‘potential hostile’ was a girl a little younger than her, legs goosepimpling under fishnets. On Dinah’s pin-up-y Halloween costume, fishnets looked good. Not so here.
“Hi, I’m Holly.”
“Batgirl.”
“Nice bike.”
“It’s not mine.”
“You still look good on it.”
“Thanks.”
“Will your boss mind if you step out a second?”
“He’s not my boss. I’m his partner.”
“So he won’t mind?”
“Mind what?”
“Me getting you out of that suit. It looks uncomfortable!”
“Are you coming onto me?”
“Obviously not very well, if you can’t tell.”
“But… you’re a girl!”
“Glad you noticed that much.”
“And I’m a girl.”
“Trust me, I won’t hold that against you.”
“I’m not into girls.”
“Aw, sugar, how can you know that unless you try?”
Batman swept out of the building. The Batcycle revved up like a dog heeding its master’s call. “Go home. I’m going after the truck and you’re not ready for combat.”
“What do you call that gorilla I annihilated?”
Batman straddled the bike. “Practice.”
***
Harvey woke, his memory of the preceding hours coming in bursts like a flickering lightbulb. Out to dinner with Bruce and Talia, drinking too much, Bruce helping him up to his apartment, leaving him on the couch. Then he was awake, storm clouds rumbling in his skull. The only light came from the Bat-signal, which seemed to shine directly through their window. Gilda was watching him, her dark hair unfurled across her face like a veil.
“He’s not coming, is he?”
“Huh?” Harvey sat up. “Who?”
“Batman. What will you do without him?”
“Gotham survived without him. It’ll survive after he’s gone.”
“Will it, Harvey, darling?” Gilda got closer. “It will survive like you survived?”
“Yeah. Yeah, exactly like that.” Harvey stood. The room spun. “Gotham… has the law. It will always have the law.”
“But it needs more, it needs Batman, and now he’s gone… maybe it’s time for a new dark knight to step up. Someone strong, and who knows exactly where the laws stops, and we start.”
“’We’?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t help?” Gilda kept getting closer, even though there wasn’t any more room. Like she was growing larger, towering over him, overwhelming him. “You thought the scars would heal? They never heal, they just scab over, and now it’s time to reopen old wounds. Let me out and I’ll stop the Joker, I’ll protect Gilda, I’ll give her everything she needs… and everything you can’t.”
“You’re dead. I buried you. Professor Strange said you were dead!”
“You think I’m going to go away just because you don’t need me to take your beatings anymore?” The hair in front of her face parted as her hot breath sizzled against Harvey’s cheek. “Give us a kiss.” An eye, huge and yellow, opened through the web of hair and in it Harvey could see his reflection, skewed, distorted. He reached up to push Gilda away but his hand tangled in her hair, brushing it away, and he saw her, she was hideous, unimaginably foul and nightmarish, because she was him and he was her, flesh of one flesh and bone of one bone, and trapped together forever in this horrible torment because he’d been a bad boy, he’d always been a bad boy, because good boys didn’t do bad things.
Harvey jolted awake in a cold sweat, the imperfect moon the only light in the starless sky. His father had once told him the moon was a silver coin. God made one side pitted and ugly, so everyone would know it was evil. Then He flipped it and the moon landed scarred side up… so He made the world.
He breathed hard and went to the bedroom. Gilda was in bed. As cautiously as he could, he pulled back the covers and laid down next to her. And prayed that when he got to sleep, the nightmares would leave him alone.
He needn’t have bothered. Sleep didn’t come that night. His beeper was rattling.
***
The Batsignal shone like a second moon. Gordon allowed himself a dash of tobacco in the pipe he usually just chewed. His gut told him Batman would come tonight, but for the first time in ten years he doubted it. Tonight was different.
The Joker wasn’t a mob boss, a serial killer, or a terrorist. Harvey Dent was on the roof with Gordon, dancing a silver dollar over his knuckles like it was a sharpening knife filing his fingers down into claws. And something about Batman’s absence had felt permanent, like the dawning disillusionment when Superman had left. The night was different and Gordon could feel that difference bearing down on him, his city, and his family.
“Does he usually take this long?” Harvey asked.
“He’ll be here.”
“How long are we going to wait?”
“Until dawn, if that’s what it takes.”
“We shouldn’t be relying on a vigilante in the first place. This is why!”
“Your faith in the law is admirable. As a lawman, I wish it were better-placed.”
“It’s all we have to separate us from monsters.” Batman was behind the searchlight, impossible to see beyond the blinding glare.
Harvey braved it. “What the hell are you thinking? It’s not enough you’re a vigilante, let’s add child endangerment to the docket!”
“Batgirl chose this life.”
“Her name isn’t Batgirl! It’s Mary or Cathy or Leslie, and you’re putting her in harm’s way.”
“We’re all in harm’s way. I’ve just given her the tools to defend herself.”
“Listen to yourself! You’re talking about a teenage girl!”
Batman was just a horned silhouette that couldn’t take the light. “Commissioner?”
Gordon rolled his pipe in his hand. “What would you tell her parents, if they knew?”
Batman shut off the signal. The darkness swirled around his mask, unveiled his face. His lips were pursed. “I’d tell them to be proud of her. All those words we kid ourselves about, like honor, justice, integrity… she really believes them. That doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It comes from parents who believe in good.” As if in apology for the unguarded moment, Batman turned to Dent. “I need to talk to you alone.”
Gordon was dismissed. He tapped his pipe out over the parapet and disappeared down the stairs.
Batman stepped out from behind the beacon, his full, impressive physique coming to bear. “You don’t trust me.”
“How can I?” The wind whipped at Dent’s tie. “You wear a mask. You disappear for days.”
“I was injured.”
“When a cop gets hurt, we call in another cop to take his place. Who gets the call when you need help?”
“…the laws you believe in so much? I’ve seen the respect the underworld has for them. The man who killed my parents plea-bargained his way out of a life sentence. The man he was going to testify against had him shot, right outside the courthouse. Your law couldn’t touch him. Mine could.”
Harvey’s mouth worked soundlessly before words came out. “Joe Chill… died on his day out of prison. Bruce told me about it.”
Batman moved next to him. This close, Harvey could identify the curve of the jaw, the color of the eyes. “He didn’t tell you about the loaded gun he had in his pocket, or the nothing he felt when his parents’ killer died. But he found another way to honor his parents. If his pain meant he was the last to know that pain… then that meant he wasn’t a mistake. He had a purpose. A destiny, even.”
“He’d have means… motive… opportunity…” Harvey asked, hating the answer waiting for him. “What happened to him?”
“He resigned himself to his fate… and became me.”
Dent held his head, the dizzying height getting to him. “Why are you telling me this?”
Batman shed his mask. The greasepaint over Bruce’s eyes made him look like a walking corpse. “Because I need your help.”
Fandom: Nolanverse Batman, Superman Returns
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,055
Characters/Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Selina Kyle, Harvey Dent
Previous Part: Chapter 27
Next Part: Chapter 29
Summary: Bruce and Barbara spend a night on the town.
Arkham wasn’t just a building. Since the break-out, it’d been moved to the property its founder, Jeremiah Arkham, had set aside in his will. It was a mansion built for that purpose, then lived in when the city had gone with a converted prison in the Narrows. When that was closed down, the mansion was supremely easy to adapt into a high-security facility. Perhaps the house had looked less foreboding without bars on the windows. But Harleen doubted it.
She flashed her ID badge to the guard and he buzzed her in. It had full security clearance. Since her ground-breaking work on Jonathan Crane’s psychosis. She had become Arkham’s next rising star. The fact that she was treating Arkham’s last rising star didn’t deter her in the slightest. She had a new patient who would launch her career to even greater heights.
Jervis Tetch had been developing Active Denial System technology before Waynecorp’s new CEO had canned the project… and him. Tetch’s mind had snapped. He’d stalked four women, then used nerve-override technology in his hat to make them commit elaborate suicides. By the design, the hat let him feel what his victims felt as they killed themselves. Obviously some kind of self-loathing at work. Commissioner Loeb’s failure to capture him, and Gordon’s role in the capture of Waylon Jones, had resulted in their role reversal. And now, after a five-state killing spree and the actions of a PI named John Jones, Tetch was coming home.
Harleen couldn’t wait to get inside that head of his. Her blonde hair and gymnastic body would make her just his type.
But while she waited for the state to deliver him, Harleen paid a visit to Dr. Isley. The redhead was a bit of an eco-freak – how many times had she invited Harleen to weekend in a back-to-nature camp? – but her research was amazing. She’d adopted data from one of their patients, Dr. Woodrue, and now they were using it in Waylon’s therapy. His sessions with ‘the Green’ always civilized him considerably.
“How’s the suitcase?” Harleen asked gaily. Isley was controlling the flow of pheromones to the next room, where they could see Waylon pruning flowers through reinforced glass.
Isley gestured to the glass. “Haven’t had to replace a pane all month. But I’ve been running tests after sessions and he’s getting healthier. The scar tissue Batman left him with is healing, his muscles are increasing in density, his epidermolytic hyperkeratosis is coming to resemble armor, and his teeth are getting sharper.”
“How’s he sharpening them?”
“I don’t think he is. Should we stop the therapy?”
Harleen tapped on the glass. “No. I want to see what happens next. It could be his big contribution to society”
Isley smiled. “And he’s complaining of pain in his gums. I’ve prescribed him some pain pills.”
“That’s nice of you. How’s your other research coming?”
“I’d be happy to give you a sample. We could go clubbing, you could see for yourself.”
“Nah. You can if you want, but pheromones are too squicky for me.”
“Like I need them. It just speeds up the process, lets me get right to what I want.”
“And what about our mysterious benefactor? Is she as moral as us?”
“I don’t think she needs any help either. Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything men haven’t been doing for generations. High time they got a taste of their own medicine.”
“Down, girl. We both know men are only good for one thing.”
“And even that they’re not always up for. Speaking of, would you like to come over after work? I’ve been working on a variant of the pheromones and it’s better than the cannabis I grew in college. I tried it before eating some sushi and I could feel the life subsuming itself to my aura. It was like being God…”
“No thanks. I want one more look at Tetch’s case file.”
“Hugo was the one who declared him unfit to stand trial. Maybe you should chat with him.”
“Good idea.”
Through the window, Killer Croc picked one of the last human teeth out of his increasing saurian maw.
***
Bruce spoke for the first time in over an hour, his voice less… awed than the almost pained exhortations Talia’d grown to expect. “I have to go.”
“So soon?” She curled closer to him, reminding him of the feel of her flesh. “The sun just set.”
“I have work to do.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“I’m Batman.”
Talia perked an eyebrow and though her lazy smile didn’t get any wider, it seemed to deepen almost. “Really. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back.”
***
After a quick ride in the rocket-car, with Batman even more quiet than usual, they took a ladder up into the drywall of a condemned building, knocked over an empty dresser covering a hole in the wall to leave, then painstakingly moved it back into position before they left. The stairwell didn’t look like OSHA had been consulted.
“We’ll use grapple-guns to get to the roof.” Batman took out his and showed it to Barbara. There was a dial on the side like the safety on a pistol, though it had the same clicking presets as the cape control. “Safety.” He turned it: Klik. “Magnetic.” Klik. “Grappling hook.” Klik. “Glue round. Magnetic and hook are reusable, glue isn’t. Use those sparingly, even though they stick to anything.”
“I read the manual.” Barbara set her own grapple-gun to magnetic and fired. High above, something wooden cracked and the cable fell.
“Helps if there’s metal.”
“Lay off, it’s my first webshooter.” She switched to hook and fired. The head of the line sprouted prongs in flight. It hooked onto the railing and held fast when Barbara gave it a tug. She proudly holstered the gun, automatically feeding the line to her belt-winch. “Last one there has to clean the guano out of the Batcave.”
“Stop calling it that.”
“Sorry. Last one there has to clean the bat shit out of the Batcave.”
They climbed up through a hole in the roof, Batman swinging up effortlessly, Batgirl bitterly having to throw a leg over the lip of the hole to pull herself up. The air smelled different. It was alive with the night, the hunt. Barbara had heard wolves howl, lions roar. She now knew how they felt.
Batman stepped up onto the parapet and slipped his hands into pockets on the inside of his cape. Like a switchblade, wings burst out of his cape’s dark folds. “I don’t suppose I have to explain how these work.”
“Memory fabric, meet electric current,” Barbara guessed. “Does that mean my gloves can double as a taser?”
“Battery’s too small for that kind of charge. And it’d be a bad idea to siphon energy from your wings.”
“Just thought a bat-joy buzzer could come in handy… no pun—“
“Follow my lead.” He stepped off the roof, deploying his wings as he approached terminal velocity. The sudden shift catapulted him to the next roof over, which was much lower than Barbara.
Batgirl gulped and extended her wings, then jumped. She needn’t have worried. Her wings caught the air and bent it into a pillar to hold her up, letting her glide with ease. She flew to the next rooftop… and a hundred feet over it. She tried to turn around, but her efforts sent her into a vicious barrel roll.
She corkscrewed through a window, landing between an elderly couple and their TV. A contestant bought a vowel behind her.
“Excuse me, folks,” she said, dusting herself off. “I knew I should’ve taken that left turn at Albuquerque…”
She dashed to the broken window and dived out, this time waiting until she was thirty feet above her target to pull up. Her downward momentum shifted into a burst of lateral motion that carried her halfway across the roof before she opened her fists, cutting of f the electrical current. She landed ass over teakettle to sprawl on her back. Batman stood over her.
“Any landing you can walk away from?”
“Congratulations. The bank robbers you were flying down to capture have cracked the safe and made their getaway while you were busy vandalizing an apartment.”
“Hey, I’m gonna pay for that!”
They went down four blocks, mostly leaping across alleys, swinging to cross streets. Batman pointed at some graffiti on a billboard.
“This is Toro territory. We’ll start here.”
It didn’t take long. A woman screamed and Batman moved like a bloodhound that had just caught a scent. Barbara abruptly realized how much he had slowed down so she could keep up. She caught a glimpse of his scalloped cape as it was sucked over a parapet, his voice cutting its way across their radio. “Observe. Do not interfere. Use your nightvision.”
Batgirl turned it on. Visors snapped shut over her mask’s eyeholes, turning night into day. There was a small army of Toros occupying the trash-strewn alley. Most were heckling the woman they’d chased to the chain-link fence dead-end, pulling at her dress, her hair. Some were watching from the fire escape, munching on microwave popcorn.
Batman started with them.
He landed on the empty top level of the fire escape, silent except for the flutter of his wings, then slithered down to a lower level. Two Toros there. It was like a lightning strike. One was bashed against the brick building, left sprawled on the grating. The other was dumped over the side to land in a pile of garbage bags, screaming until he got there.
The Toros looked up in time to see Batman swing down to the lower level. His boots landed squarely in the chests of two Toros dangling their legs over the side. The pair avalanched down the stairs to the next lower level.
There were four more Toros on that level, once sharing a bong, now pulling weapons. Batman bulldozed through them, leaving one hanging off the railing. He jumped off the other side of the fire escape and landed in the dark mouth of the alley. The Toros on the ground saw the shot and took it. Their bullets sparked off the dumpster hidden in the shadows, the one Batman had taken cover behind. Barbara wondered how long it had taken him to work out this plan of attack.
“Batgirl, get the hostage out.”
Batgirl drew her discus. It had grooves in the center for her to hold and sawteeth on the sides to cut through most anything. She clicked the thumb toggle that set it spinning and jumped down.
She landed on the other side of the chain-link fence, painfully, and cut a hole in the fence. She yanked the hostage through it as Batman sent a handful of Batarangs scything into the Toros. One of them noticed the great escape. He forced himself through and after them, cocking his fist for a punch. Batgirl blocked it with a swiped trash can lid, then broadsided him with it. He went down.
Barbara looked over him in time to see an oversized Batarang fly from Batman’s hand. Its wings glowed with electricity. It flew down the alley, shocking several of the throng. Batman flooded in after it. By the time the Electrorang sparked against the fence, those who hadn’t fled were unconscious. He took a braid of zip-ties from a pouch on his belt and tossed it to Barbara. “You know the drill.”
“Ah, yes, the glamorous life of a crimefighter.” She bent to cuff the first of many. “When do I see some real action?”
“When you’re ready.”
“I am ready!”
Batman turned over one of the gangers with his foot. “This one spoke with a Boston accent. He wears Toro colors, but doesn’t have Gotham tats. What’s he doing here?”
“Enjoying the fine dining?”
“Doubt it.” Batman looped a length of cord around the man’s leg, threw the other end of the lowest rung of the fire escape’s ladder, and then hoisted him up. “Hurry up with the cuffs.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Shoot the breeze.” Batman jabbed the ganger with a stimulant, bringing him about. Batgirl grudgingly went about her rounds.
The Toro was a big man. The stimulant took a while to work. But when he woke up, there was no grogginess—just what looked like a killer headache. “Oh fuck, it’s you!”
Batman gave a hard shove that sent him swinging into the wall. “What’re you doing in Gotham?”
“Showing your mom a good time!”
Batman dragged the Toro to the other end of the alley and let him swing. When he hit, there was a sound of loose bricks chattering. “You should never make me ask twice.”
“The Joker’s got your number, Bat! You don’t kill!”
“That’s right, Batman.” Batgirl put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t kill people. That’s a lot easier than hiding the bodies. There’s only so many deaths the commissioner can cover up.”
“One more won’t make much of a difference. And this one’s pissing me off.”
“Alright, just don’t make a mess like last time. My ears are still ringing from the screams.”
Batman brandished a Batarang. “Can’t scream without a tongue.”
“Okay, Jesus, okay!” The Toro flung his arms in surrender. “Joker’s offering a cool thou to anyone who shows up with a rap sheet and a piece, with more to come! He’s got a fucking army!”
“Where?”
“Moves around. He’s got an ice cream truck! Yeah! Full of cash, being driven to every crime-hive in the city. Gives people apartment keys, ammo--”
“Why!?”
“He’s the Joker. When does he ever make sense?”
Batman scowled and kicked the Electrorang up into his hand. Folded it up, nested it in his belt. “We’re done here.”
“Hey! What about me?” the Toro cried.
Batman let go of the line, dumping him on his head. “Have a nice nap.”
***
They stood on a water tower, the wind plying their capes like fists opening and closing. Batgirl tried out the zoom on her visor. She scoured the streets for ice cream trucks.
“I have a contact inside Joker’s gang. I could ask for the route.”
“Too late for that. If they’ve come from as far as Boston, Joker has his army. I’ll pump someone else for information.”
***
Selina Kyle’s place was an abandoned warehouse converted into a studio apartment. That fit Bruce’s theory of her being Catwoman. Villains always hid in abandoned warehouses. He’d have to talk with Lucius about tearing a few down.
Batgirl hoped he hadn’t noticed how much she’d enjoyed riding on the back of the Batcycle, her arms wrapped around his waist…
“Guard the bike. Don’t touch the controls. Touch the controls and you’re fired.”
“’Guard the bike’? Who’d be stupid enough to mess with your ride?”
“Remember not to touch the controls.”
Batgirl rolled her eyes.
***
The security gave away the lie of the slum. Batman bypassed it and prowled up into Selina’s apartment. As expected, it was a diamond in the rough. Luxurious carpeting, expensive furniture, beautiful artwork. Most of it reported stolen. A shower ran in the bathroom. Batman forced the door.
“You have no class, you know that?” came a voice from behind him. Selina, wrapping herself in a towel.
“How—“
“I could hear you coming a mile away. You’re too late to wash my back, though.”
“An ice cream truck distributing weaponry. What do you know about it?”
Selina stepped out of her towel and into a dress. Her body was as beautiful as expected. Her scars were anything but. “A clown came by to ask permission for safe passage.”
“Ask?”
“Just because you’re king of Gotham doesn’t mean there isn’t room for a duchess. Countess. Baroness. Queen. Which do you prefer?” She spun, suddenly against him. “You know the feeling.” Her fingernails traced the bat over his beating heart. “The thrill of the hunt, the rush of punishment.”
“You let Joker onto your turf?”
“I don’t have the resources to fight a war. Joker’s scum, but I have bigger rats to catch.”
“People are dying.”
“They’re always dying. I’m supposed to care just cuz they’re rich?”
“You’re supposed to care, period.”
“I do. About East End. When the rest of the world cares about us, maybe I’ll return the favor.”
***
Batgirl leaned on the Batcycle. Batman hadn’t said anything about that. Her only ‘potential hostile’ was a girl a little younger than her, legs goosepimpling under fishnets. On Dinah’s pin-up-y Halloween costume, fishnets looked good. Not so here.
“Hi, I’m Holly.”
“Batgirl.”
“Nice bike.”
“It’s not mine.”
“You still look good on it.”
“Thanks.”
“Will your boss mind if you step out a second?”
“He’s not my boss. I’m his partner.”
“So he won’t mind?”
“Mind what?”
“Me getting you out of that suit. It looks uncomfortable!”
“Are you coming onto me?”
“Obviously not very well, if you can’t tell.”
“But… you’re a girl!”
“Glad you noticed that much.”
“And I’m a girl.”
“Trust me, I won’t hold that against you.”
“I’m not into girls.”
“Aw, sugar, how can you know that unless you try?”
Batman swept out of the building. The Batcycle revved up like a dog heeding its master’s call. “Go home. I’m going after the truck and you’re not ready for combat.”
“What do you call that gorilla I annihilated?”
Batman straddled the bike. “Practice.”
***
Harvey woke, his memory of the preceding hours coming in bursts like a flickering lightbulb. Out to dinner with Bruce and Talia, drinking too much, Bruce helping him up to his apartment, leaving him on the couch. Then he was awake, storm clouds rumbling in his skull. The only light came from the Bat-signal, which seemed to shine directly through their window. Gilda was watching him, her dark hair unfurled across her face like a veil.
“He’s not coming, is he?”
“Huh?” Harvey sat up. “Who?”
“Batman. What will you do without him?”
“Gotham survived without him. It’ll survive after he’s gone.”
“Will it, Harvey, darling?” Gilda got closer. “It will survive like you survived?”
“Yeah. Yeah, exactly like that.” Harvey stood. The room spun. “Gotham… has the law. It will always have the law.”
“But it needs more, it needs Batman, and now he’s gone… maybe it’s time for a new dark knight to step up. Someone strong, and who knows exactly where the laws stops, and we start.”
“’We’?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t help?” Gilda kept getting closer, even though there wasn’t any more room. Like she was growing larger, towering over him, overwhelming him. “You thought the scars would heal? They never heal, they just scab over, and now it’s time to reopen old wounds. Let me out and I’ll stop the Joker, I’ll protect Gilda, I’ll give her everything she needs… and everything you can’t.”
“You’re dead. I buried you. Professor Strange said you were dead!”
“You think I’m going to go away just because you don’t need me to take your beatings anymore?” The hair in front of her face parted as her hot breath sizzled against Harvey’s cheek. “Give us a kiss.” An eye, huge and yellow, opened through the web of hair and in it Harvey could see his reflection, skewed, distorted. He reached up to push Gilda away but his hand tangled in her hair, brushing it away, and he saw her, she was hideous, unimaginably foul and nightmarish, because she was him and he was her, flesh of one flesh and bone of one bone, and trapped together forever in this horrible torment because he’d been a bad boy, he’d always been a bad boy, because good boys didn’t do bad things.
Harvey jolted awake in a cold sweat, the imperfect moon the only light in the starless sky. His father had once told him the moon was a silver coin. God made one side pitted and ugly, so everyone would know it was evil. Then He flipped it and the moon landed scarred side up… so He made the world.
He breathed hard and went to the bedroom. Gilda was in bed. As cautiously as he could, he pulled back the covers and laid down next to her. And prayed that when he got to sleep, the nightmares would leave him alone.
He needn’t have bothered. Sleep didn’t come that night. His beeper was rattling.
***
The Batsignal shone like a second moon. Gordon allowed himself a dash of tobacco in the pipe he usually just chewed. His gut told him Batman would come tonight, but for the first time in ten years he doubted it. Tonight was different.
The Joker wasn’t a mob boss, a serial killer, or a terrorist. Harvey Dent was on the roof with Gordon, dancing a silver dollar over his knuckles like it was a sharpening knife filing his fingers down into claws. And something about Batman’s absence had felt permanent, like the dawning disillusionment when Superman had left. The night was different and Gordon could feel that difference bearing down on him, his city, and his family.
“Does he usually take this long?” Harvey asked.
“He’ll be here.”
“How long are we going to wait?”
“Until dawn, if that’s what it takes.”
“We shouldn’t be relying on a vigilante in the first place. This is why!”
“Your faith in the law is admirable. As a lawman, I wish it were better-placed.”
“It’s all we have to separate us from monsters.” Batman was behind the searchlight, impossible to see beyond the blinding glare.
Harvey braved it. “What the hell are you thinking? It’s not enough you’re a vigilante, let’s add child endangerment to the docket!”
“Batgirl chose this life.”
“Her name isn’t Batgirl! It’s Mary or Cathy or Leslie, and you’re putting her in harm’s way.”
“We’re all in harm’s way. I’ve just given her the tools to defend herself.”
“Listen to yourself! You’re talking about a teenage girl!”
Batman was just a horned silhouette that couldn’t take the light. “Commissioner?”
Gordon rolled his pipe in his hand. “What would you tell her parents, if they knew?”
Batman shut off the signal. The darkness swirled around his mask, unveiled his face. His lips were pursed. “I’d tell them to be proud of her. All those words we kid ourselves about, like honor, justice, integrity… she really believes them. That doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It comes from parents who believe in good.” As if in apology for the unguarded moment, Batman turned to Dent. “I need to talk to you alone.”
Gordon was dismissed. He tapped his pipe out over the parapet and disappeared down the stairs.
Batman stepped out from behind the beacon, his full, impressive physique coming to bear. “You don’t trust me.”
“How can I?” The wind whipped at Dent’s tie. “You wear a mask. You disappear for days.”
“I was injured.”
“When a cop gets hurt, we call in another cop to take his place. Who gets the call when you need help?”
“…the laws you believe in so much? I’ve seen the respect the underworld has for them. The man who killed my parents plea-bargained his way out of a life sentence. The man he was going to testify against had him shot, right outside the courthouse. Your law couldn’t touch him. Mine could.”
Harvey’s mouth worked soundlessly before words came out. “Joe Chill… died on his day out of prison. Bruce told me about it.”
Batman moved next to him. This close, Harvey could identify the curve of the jaw, the color of the eyes. “He didn’t tell you about the loaded gun he had in his pocket, or the nothing he felt when his parents’ killer died. But he found another way to honor his parents. If his pain meant he was the last to know that pain… then that meant he wasn’t a mistake. He had a purpose. A destiny, even.”
“He’d have means… motive… opportunity…” Harvey asked, hating the answer waiting for him. “What happened to him?”
“He resigned himself to his fate… and became me.”
Dent held his head, the dizzying height getting to him. “Why are you telling me this?”
Batman shed his mask. The greasepaint over Bruce’s eyes made him look like a walking corpse. “Because I need your help.”
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Date: 2009-03-22 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-23 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
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