Fic: Change My World 8/8 (Batman)
Mar. 6th, 2008 06:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Change My World 8/8
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dick/Babs
Word Count: 4,642
Series: Change My World
Summary: Dick doesn’t remember when the Joker went from being a clown to a monster. But he’s starting to remember the punchline.
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
All of a sudden Barbara was bereft of a plan, anything to say, anything but trying to hold him. She stroked Dick’s chin and he grabbed her wrist roughly.
“All this time,” Dick muttered, his voice as cold as ice. Colder. “All this time I’ve been soooo understanding, so sensitive, while you were…”
“Dick, I love you!” Barbara insisted.
“When it’s convenient!” he shouted in her face. “You pick and choose when you love me! But when I need you, you cut me loose, kick me out. When it hurts your feelings, I’m not important! Your feelings, your feelings, your precious feelings… do you have any idea what I’ve been through because of you? And you still have the nerve to make me jump through hoops for you!”
“I never wanted… you don’t have to earn my love.”
Dick threw himself off the bed and began gathering his clothes. “Now you tell me. Because it seemed like that was what I was trying to do. And every time, I came up a little short. There are people I know who love each other for better or for worse. But with you, I always have to be on my best behavior. And if I get to be too much of a handful…”
“I’ve changed. I’ve realized what’s important to me… and that’s you.”
“Now I’m important to you. Now that you’re ready. It’s always your timetable, you calling the shots, and I was fine with that. Because I thought you knew best. But I can’t trust you like that, can I?” His voice was tinged with hysteria and she saw tears coming to his eyes, not from sorrow or anger, but from the sheer force of the emotion shaking him. “Because when I depend on you, I end up… a man is dead and if you had just… Did you learn from that? No. You kick me out again, to wander the world. Could I have made it any more obvious that I needed you? But no, I always have to respect your wishes, even when you couldn’t give a damn about mine!”
“Remember what you said last night, about your memories not making you who you are…”
“I was wrong. The past is like a chain, choking me. I can’t let go of it. And you’re no different. Honestly, how long has it been since the Joker shot you? Ever thought to get over it? Move on with your life? You’re a cripple! Get used to it!”
Barbara set her jaw. “You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t care that you’re not Batgirl anymore. I never have. Only you could be worried about that. I flirt with you, after you’re paralyzed. I tell you I love you, after you’re paralyzed. I ask to marry you, after you’re paralyzed. So obviously I must be fixated on Batgirl! Because of your insecurities… which I have put up with for as long as I can remember…” He couldn’t buckle his watch. Finally he gave up and shoved it in his pocket. “There have been so many times when I’ve put you ahead of me. I do it without even thinking. But the one time I need you, you slam the door in my face because you’re afraid this shell you keep building around yourself will get torn down. And here I thought Kara was selfish.”
“You’re right,” Barbara said, pulling the bedsheets tight around her shoulders. “Maybe I am just a horrible person. But I’m not the only one in this relationship with faults. And if I can overlook yours…”
“You literally cannot go five minutes without patronizing me, can you?” Dick finished tying his shoes and stood, stalking across the room.
“So what is it you want, then? An apology?”
“It’d be nice.”
“I’m sorry!” Barbara took off her glasses. “If I could take it back, I would. I know the person I am. I’m suspicious and I’m guarded and I think either I can make everything right all by myself or it’s a lost cause. But with you, I overcome that. I’m not like the person I used to be, I’m like someone new. After you told me you loved me, I felt reborn. And you can’t tell me I don’t make you feel the same way.”
Dick shook his head. “It’s not about the good times. It’s about the bad.” He headed for the door.
“Come back when you’re ready,” Barbara called after him, hating how her voice shook.
“Don’t hold your breath.”
***
Dick stormed to the elevator, where he jammed the call button repeatedly. When that wasn’t fast enough, he ran to the stairs. He got down two floors before his legs gave out.
He sat on a step, hands shaking, head throbbing with anger. It would be one thing if she’d begged him to take her back, but instead she’d made him work his ass off for the slightest hint of affection. And he always did. And she always held back til the last moment to return his love. It was maddening. It was no way to live.
He lost count of the minutes, but sometime later he got to his feet and continued down the stairs. He was still fuming, but his anger had mostly abated. Dick’s cell-phone rang and he checked it automatically. Barbara. He was in no mood to talk to her. Dick silenced the ringer and belatedly realized that he knew the ins and outs of operating his phone. With a tremendous sigh, he shoved through the door out of the stairwell and into the hotel lobby.
Dick looked around, his suspicion roused. There should’ve been people checking out, or at least a desk clerk on duty. But there was no one. Dick walked to the front desk and looked behind it. A blonde woman was facedown on the floor. She wore fishnet stockings.
Dick leaped the desk and turned Dinah over. Dinah’s face was contorted by an obscene grin like the crevice left by an earthquake. He checked her pulse. Faint, but there. If he ever felt a strong pulse, he’d probably keel over from shock. Dick stood and grabbed for the phone. A bullet tore through his leg. Teeth clenched and gurgling in pain, Dick collapsed beside Dinah.
“My,” the Joker said, leaping up onto the desk. A gun was smoking in his hand. “That looked like it hurt.”
Dick took off his jacket and ripped the sleeve off. Joker was in rant-mode. That meant he had some time to play with. He tied a tourniquet around his wound, turning the Italian silk red with blood.
“What do you want, Joker?”
“I’ve already got what I want, sonny boy. Or, more precisely, what the Calculator wants. A nice girl to multiply with!”
The elevator doors closed. Dick caught a brief glimpse of flesh before they shut. Groaning, he lolled his head back.
“Barbara.”
“Yup! The all-seeing Oracle… what a pain! So Calcy wants her removed from the equation, permanently. And while we’re at it, why not get all those juicy secrets she’s hoarding? All I had to do was find that hero she’s always chatting with on her dedicated comm channel, put a little dent in his skull (not to mention a tracking device), and wait for her to put on her naughty nurse outfit. Oh, that would be you, wouldn’t it? Don’t bother denying it, that mask really only covers your eyes.”
Dick tried to stand and collapsed again. “I thought you were an artist, Joker. Now you’ve sold out.”
“All great artists take commissions now and then. Besides, how many times do you get to remix your own work? Barbara Gordon, Jokerized… Part 2! Think I should paralyze her from the neck down this time, or would that be too much of a rehash?”
This time Dick managed to pull himself onto the desk, where he flopped onto his back, still pale from the pain. “If you touch her,” he said to the Joker, who he was viewing upside-down, “I’ll kill you.”
“Oh, if I had a penny for every time I heard that…”
“Fine. Touch her or not, I’ll still kill you, monster.” Dick sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the desk. “You deserve to die and I’m already damned. Might as well take you down with me.”
“Damned? You?” The Joker clapped his heels together. “Please. I’ve seen nuns who are more depraved. Felt nuns who were more depraved. Made nuns more depraved! Besides, Big Daddy Bats would kick you out of the house.”
“Not like I have much to lose. I’m in love with an emotional eunuch. I’ve already caused one death…”
Dick lunged, throwing himself at the Joker by force of his strong arms. He landed on top of the spindly man, both of them toppling off the desk and onto the floor. Before Joker could recover, Dick had an arm around his neck. ”What’s one more?”
Joker elbowed Dick repeatedly, but it wasn’t until he pounded his fist on the wound on Dick’s left leg that Dick let go. Joker got up and began kicking Dick savagely, then dancing a little jig, then kicking some more. Blood coursed down Dick’s face; a wingtip had sliced open his cheek. Finally, the Joker stopped with his sole on Dick’s throat.
“I need you alive. You need to tell Bats all about how it went down. You know, you’re not a very good sidekick. You haven’t even noticed that I ordered all of the civilians into the hotel vault before I gassed them. So don’t worry about them, they’re quite safe! Yeah, and you thought your puns were bad…”
The elevator chimed and the first thing Dick saw when the doors opened was Barbara, handcuffed. Her wheelchair was more of a prison than ever. The Joker’s new henchwoman, a butch-looking buzzcut blonde with swastikas stenciled over her breasts, had taken Barbara prisoner.
Dick felt his breathing hasten; exactly the reaction Joker was hoping for. He whooped it up while Dick burned with resentment, concern, and self-loathing.
The last thing I ever said to her… oh God, I didn’t take her call…
He tried to get up and the Joker shoved him back down.
“Bruno, my girl, one librarian, light on the intact spinal column!”
“Coming right up, mein fuhrer!”
Bruno took a running start and bowled Barbara’s wheelchair toward the Joker. He stopped it with his foot, sending Barbara tumbling out of it to the floor. She landed next to Dick, the hard tile floor splitting her scalp. Her eyes were wide, scared, pained.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Dick said as the Joker picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder. Her hair fell under her, clogged with blood. “Joker! I’m gonna kill you!”
“Again? You tried it once and brought me back like high-tops. What’s changed, pretty boy?”
“Me,” Dick said.
“Good for you. Well, I hate to leave a job half-done, especially when I’m paid on completion…” Joker patted Barbara’s ass. “Time to bring home the bacon. Hey, Wheels, you mind getting the door? Just one of those little Boomtubes you like to use for a trip to the corner store?”
“Fuck you.”
The Joker’s face soured. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. This party’s going to your place for a nightcap. Bruno?”
Bruno, hoisting an oversized revolver, minced over to Dick, pulled his body up by the hair, and jammed the barrel in his ear. “C’mon, red, you wouldn’t want to leave a mess for house cleaning.”
“Barbara, they need you alive! Just keep them occupied for a few minutes and Batman will…”
“Ten, nine, eight…”
Bruno cocked the revolver.
“Alright!” Barbara cried. “Let him go and I’ll help you.”
“Babs, he won’t—“
“I don’t have a choice,” Barbara said quietly. She pulled a slim Palm Pilot from her pocket, opened it, and typed in a command.
With a sound of encroaching thunder, a Boomtube opened. The lobby was blown around like it’d been hit by a hurricane. Bruno went through first, followed by the Joker. Barbara’s eyes never left Dick’s as she was carried through.
“I’m just happy we had something!” she shouted.
The Boomtube closed.
Dick was already activating the panic button program in his phone. The date of Bruce’s parents’ death, send… and a signal was sent out to bring the entire forces of the Batman down on the Gotham Hilton.
“Dick,” Batman said on the other end of the line.
Dick was dragging himself to Barbara’s abandoned wheelchair. “Joker. He poisoned the guests, took Barbara. I’ll need ambulances and the Batwing. Send it on autopilot to the roof of Gotham Hilton.”
He climbed into the chair, just then noticing that he’d left a trail of blood behind him. His tourniquet had been soaked through. Gritting his teeth, he tightened it. The pain was like a living thing, birthing, growing, hunting. His numb fingers still managed to grab the wheels and he awkwardly maneuvered himself to the elevator. The roof access restriction was easy to override. As he went up, Dick finally managed to breath.
The doors were metallic, reflecting. Dick looked at himself in them. A stranger stared back. He looked as if he’d aged ten years. Was this who he was, then? Really, deep down inside? Some kind of dark avenger, caught in an eternal loop of pain and vengeance? He was just getting tired of trying to figure it out. He’d been so many things to so many people… lover, friend, enemy, bastard, son, brother, leader, follower… and none of them seemed to fit.
No time for introspection now, though. The doors were opening. He wheeled out onto the roof, where the Batwing was already hovering. Bruce was as good as his word. Somehow, Dick managed to drag himself into the cockpit and program a course into the autopilot. The Batwing took off toward Metropolis.
Dalton Tower was a fortress and it was more than likely that Joker had made Barbara activate the defenses. A frontal assault by someone like Superman would turn the situation into a bloodbath. But he’d always been able to slip through Barbara’s defenses undetected, probably because she always left a hole for him.
Dick took a medkit from under the seat and dressed his wound, extracting the bullet and sewing it up. A bump of turbulence caused his hand to jolt, sending a wave of pain to capsize his body. He brought his breathing back down.
The Joker had said he’d planted a tracking device on Dick. Couldn’t have been in his clothes, so where…? Dick grabbed a spectrum analyzer and ran it over his head. He had to turn it up to its highest sensitivity, but it found a dull signal coming from his old wound. Almost snarling, Dick grabbed the nearest blade and got to work.
***
“This is boring!” Joker crowed as he bashed another wall with a mallet hammer. “All that trouble of kidnapping nerds and cripples, now we just wait while some boring program messes with Maxina Headroom’s systems.”
“It’s the computer age, herr Joker,” Bruno said as she spray-painted, a can of purple in one hand and a can of green in the other. She nastily drew a Day-Glo swastika over a picture of Dick and Barbara together. “The days of robbing a bank into a burlap bag with a $ on it are over. We’ve gotta keep up with the times.”
“It’s inflation. In the old days, you could get a giant exploding jack-in-the-box wholesale for pocket change. Now it’s all overhead…” Joker smashed apart a vase like Gallagher with a watermelon. “You have to get investors lined up for the simplest killing spree, and they always want you to cover up this or provide a distraction for that. It used to be about the murder, now everything’s just so corporate…”
Bruno’s purse, filled with the most darling pilfered silverware, rang. Bruno pulled her Blackberry out. “It’s the douche wonder, coming up from the lobby.”
“Finally!” The Joker pulled his gun, which was just a normal gun. He missed acid-custard pies and exploding rubber chickens. “You go say hello to him, I’ll do the hostage thing.”
“Jawohl,” Bruno said, taking the mallet from him.
The Joker left the room. She was all on her own now, ready to prove her worth to Mistah J. With Nightwing down, Batman would have no choice to show up. By that time, the entire tower would be one big death-trap. They could use Boomtubes to move in all the piranhas and aerosol canisters they needed! With the mallet slanted across one shoulder and the Blackberry in the other hand, she followed Nightwing’s tracking signal to the dumbwaiter.
“Be vewy vewy quiet, I’m hunting robins. Heh heh heh…”
The signal was almost to her. Bruno held the mallet high above her head as the dumbwaiter door slid open…
To reveal the bloody tracking device sitting atop a platter.
“Bon appetit,” Nightwing said as he grabbed her from behind and smashed her face against the wall. Her nose shattered in an eruption of pain, which doubled when he slammed her against the wall again. Mercifully, Bruno blacked out then. Dick cuffed her and tossed her aside to lump on the floor.
A moment passed. When Bruno didn’t stir, Nightwing drew a Batarang and prowled into the next room. It was even more desecrated, with small fires burning up piles of Barbara’s possessions. They provided the only light other than the stark illumination of the computer screens. Barbara was seated in a wheeled office chair, her back to Dick. The Joker was crouched in front of her.
“You look marvelous, darhling, simply marvelous,” Joker said in a heavily effeminate voice. “But let’s see how the viewers at home like your new look.”
He spun Barbara around. Nightwing instinctively took a step back in revulsion, raising a hand to his mouth to try to hold back his nausea. Her eyes were adrift in black pits, one of purple-tinged bruises, the other of messily-applied eyeshadow. Her mouth was lost in a dash of lipstick that scarred its way up to her cheeks, providing a uniform red darkness in which her rictus smile virtually glowed. The rest of her beautiful complexion was marred by dried blood and powder like she’d been brutalized by a powder puff.
As soon as she saw him, Barbara burst out laughing.
“I gave her an extra-special dose of my Joker Juice,” the Joker explained, shouting to be heard over Barbara’s insane laughter. The mere sound of his voice made her laugh louder. “Now she sees the humor in everything! Watch; AIDS.”
Barbara laughed til she cried.
“Rape.”
Tears streamed down Barbara’s wobbling cheeks, causing her make-up to run.
“Feminism.”
She whooped, hollered, slapped her knee.
“You’re a dead man,” Dick said, his quiet words almost lost in Barbara’s gales of laughter.
Like a magician performing a card trick, a scalpel appeared in the Joker’s hand and then shined in the shadowed hollows of Barbara’s collarbone.
“You? Kill me? Is that before or after I give your chair bear a second smile?” He took his other hand out from behind Barbara, cocking the gun in it. “Because I know it’ll have to be before I shoot you as dead as disco.”
Dick’s entire body was tense and short of breath, like a giant fist was squeezing him. The hellish smoke of the fires stung his eyes, squeezed his throat. Babs laughed louder, making Dick wonder how it was possible for her to breath.
“Disco! BWAH!” She pounded her fist on the chair’s armrest. “Strawberry! Hahaha! Ruth—HEEHOOHOO!”
Dick recognized the telltale bubblegum-flavor/baseball legend/philosopher opening of Barbara’s verbal-activation defenses. He braced himself for whatever she was cuing up.
“SMITH!!!” Barbara seizured.
The air split and let in the most piercing note Dick could’ve imagined. It felt as if his brain had been slapped. The Joker fared no better. He stumbled, the scalpel slipping from numb fingers. Nightwing staggered toward his enemy, fighting tooth and nail each step just to stay upright. No more than ten feet separated them, but it could’ve been ten thousand from the way the floor kept sliding under him.
The Joker grabbed hold of Barbara’s chair for support. He swung his other arm around to bring the pistol to bear on Nightwing. The first shot went wide. Dick couldn’t even hear the report over the sonics crashing against his eardrums. The second shot blew apart a flat-panel monitor two feet to Dick’s left. Motes of blazing glass tingled against his skin. He ignored it, putting all his willpower into following one footstep with another. Just six more feet…
The third shot winged his arm, almost spinning him completely off-balance. The pain broke past the torturous haze of the sonics. He felt the blood babbling out of his body and down his arm.
“Fall, fall!” the Joker screamed, sending two more bullets flying past him. “It’s not funny anymore!”
“I think it’s hysterical,” Dick gritted out through clenched teeth. Then all speech deserted him, lost in a howl of pain.
A bullet had finally found his body, punching in and out of his right shoulder. So Dick swung his left arm. The punch connected. He felt his knuckles smash Joker’s jaw to powder.
For a moment, all three of them were disconnected, spinning. Dick could see, from the corner of his eye, Barbara shutting down the sonics as she wiped the tears from her eyes. The Joker tried to pistol-whip him, but he was groggy, disoriented. And Dick was ready for him. He ducked under the blow and came up swinging, this time smashing in the Joker’s pointed nose.
Joker struck back, a wild punch to his shoulder that spurted blood out the other end. Dick collapsed against a nearby desk in pain and Joker kicked him in his bandaged leg, nearly driving him to the ground. But he rallied and forced himself back onto his feet as the Joker reloaded. Dick grabbed for the gun as he tackled Joker onto a table, more wild shots blasting plaster down from the ceiling. Finally, he managed to overpower the Joker and slam his head down against the table. Again. Again. Again. Again.
Head ringing, limps aching, Dick picked up the gun. He put it to the Joker’s left thigh and pulled the trigger. The Joker screamed like a girl. Then Dick put it to the Joker’s right leg and fired. This time the Joker just moaned deeply. So Dick stuffed the barrel into his mouth.
“How… about… a smile?”
Joker’s eyes were mad, alive, bloodshot and yellow and Dick wanted them to shut. Soft fingers wrapped around his wrist, trying to relax his grip, but he held firm.
“No,” Barbara said, horribly giggly. “No. You can’t…”
“It’s what he deserves. For what he did to you. What he did to us…” Dick’s finger tightened on the trigger, but he couldn’t pull it. He looked at Barbara. “This is who I am. I’m a killer. When they push me, this is what I become. It’s inside me.”
Barbara slid her hand under Dick’s glove and sleeve to touch bare skin, finding it horrendously clammy. “It’s inside all of us. But that doesn’t mean… you told me it’s not our memories that make us who we are. You’re choosing who you are.”
“I’ve made my choice!” Dick pressed the barrel in deeper. “What difference does it make if I don’t kill him? It won’t change what I’ve done before.”
“It’ll matter to me,” Barbara said. ”You’re better than this. So much better than this. I love you too much to see you like this. Please. Make the right choice, for me.”
“Ib I coub interject…” Joker tried to say.
Dick screamed and jerked the gun out of the Joker’s mouth. He sat down, the gun seeming to drag him down into his seat.
“I can’t do it. I’ve done it before. Why can’t I…”
“Because you’re not the same man you were be… be… HEE!”
Barbara dissolved into a fit of hysterical laughter. Everything went to giggly, hilarious black.
***
When Barbara woke up, her body was aching too hard for anything to be funny. She opened her eyes and, wouldn’t you know it, her eyelids hurt. With a gentle moan, she took stock of her surroundings. A hospital, just like she’d figured. She was really getting tired of hospitals.
Dick leaned over her, his face dirty with stubble. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Funny.” The blurriness she had attributed to waking up wasn’t resolving. Smiling sheepishly, Dick handed Barbara her glasses. She looked around to see a surprising amount of well-wishes, including a floral arrangement that could only be Dinah’s and her father’s coat on an empty chair.
“Last thing… I was laughing, you had your gun down the Joker’s throat… oh my God, is he okay!?”
“Is he okay?” Dick beat his breast repeatedly in mock-pain. “He’s fine. Back in Arkham, hopefully for good.”
“Yeah, right.”
Barbara took a closer look at Dick. His bruises were fading and his cuts were mere scrapes, though his wounded arm was in a cast and there were crutches propped against the wall by his chair. But all in all, he looked little the worse for wear. She sighed in relief.
Dick tapped her IV bag. “Doctors have you on a cure. Not much side effects, although…” He poured a glass of water from a pitcher and held it out to her, “you may experience some dryness of the mouth.”
Barbara took the water and gratefully drank it. Dick stretched, making Barbara wonder just how long he’d sat there to build up so many audible cracks and pops in his joints, then he turned his chair around and straddled it. His face was… relaxed. Despite the slightly hooded look to his eyes, his mouth was curved into an easy smile that looked impregnable to scowling. She stretched out her hand and Dick reluctantly took it.
“You couldn’t shoot him because you knew it was wrong.”
“I couldn’t shoot him because you were there. Not, in the room, just…” He tapped his heart. “I’m trying to be sentimental, bear with me.”
“I’m all ears,” Barbara said as she enclosed his hand in both of hers.
“When I thought he hurt you, I… that’s not what I was thinking about, avenging you. I was thinking about saving you. Because you’re someone I want to live up to, not just for you, but for me.” Dick scratched at the few days’ worth of beard on his face. “I remember being the kind of man who is all about rage and pain and I don’t like being him. And I remember being just… this guy, with you, and I have fun. I missed that. So I’ve made my choice. It’s not about the Joker or you or Bruce… it’s about me. Thanks for showing me that.”
“You’re welcome,” Barbara said, numb and surprisingly touched by Dick’s quiet confession.
Dick stood up, slipping his hand away from Barbara. “I should probably get your dad.”
“And then where are you going?”
“Back to New York, I guess. And then there are some old friends who really need to know how important they are to me.”
“Can it wait?”
Dick glanced at her, surprised.
Barbara folded her hands across her lap, feeling and immensely grateful for the engagement ring on her finger. It felt like it had been there all along.
“I’d kind of like to make some new memories,” Barbara said.
Dick leaned down and kissed her so hard she was sure she’d never be able to remember it as good as it really was, even with photographic memory. But that was alright.
They could always reenact it.
Thanks go out to Thyme for betaing this.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dick/Babs
Word Count: 4,642
Series: Change My World
Summary: Dick doesn’t remember when the Joker went from being a clown to a monster. But he’s starting to remember the punchline.
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
All of a sudden Barbara was bereft of a plan, anything to say, anything but trying to hold him. She stroked Dick’s chin and he grabbed her wrist roughly.
“All this time,” Dick muttered, his voice as cold as ice. Colder. “All this time I’ve been soooo understanding, so sensitive, while you were…”
“Dick, I love you!” Barbara insisted.
“When it’s convenient!” he shouted in her face. “You pick and choose when you love me! But when I need you, you cut me loose, kick me out. When it hurts your feelings, I’m not important! Your feelings, your feelings, your precious feelings… do you have any idea what I’ve been through because of you? And you still have the nerve to make me jump through hoops for you!”
“I never wanted… you don’t have to earn my love.”
Dick threw himself off the bed and began gathering his clothes. “Now you tell me. Because it seemed like that was what I was trying to do. And every time, I came up a little short. There are people I know who love each other for better or for worse. But with you, I always have to be on my best behavior. And if I get to be too much of a handful…”
“I’ve changed. I’ve realized what’s important to me… and that’s you.”
“Now I’m important to you. Now that you’re ready. It’s always your timetable, you calling the shots, and I was fine with that. Because I thought you knew best. But I can’t trust you like that, can I?” His voice was tinged with hysteria and she saw tears coming to his eyes, not from sorrow or anger, but from the sheer force of the emotion shaking him. “Because when I depend on you, I end up… a man is dead and if you had just… Did you learn from that? No. You kick me out again, to wander the world. Could I have made it any more obvious that I needed you? But no, I always have to respect your wishes, even when you couldn’t give a damn about mine!”
“Remember what you said last night, about your memories not making you who you are…”
“I was wrong. The past is like a chain, choking me. I can’t let go of it. And you’re no different. Honestly, how long has it been since the Joker shot you? Ever thought to get over it? Move on with your life? You’re a cripple! Get used to it!”
Barbara set her jaw. “You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t care that you’re not Batgirl anymore. I never have. Only you could be worried about that. I flirt with you, after you’re paralyzed. I tell you I love you, after you’re paralyzed. I ask to marry you, after you’re paralyzed. So obviously I must be fixated on Batgirl! Because of your insecurities… which I have put up with for as long as I can remember…” He couldn’t buckle his watch. Finally he gave up and shoved it in his pocket. “There have been so many times when I’ve put you ahead of me. I do it without even thinking. But the one time I need you, you slam the door in my face because you’re afraid this shell you keep building around yourself will get torn down. And here I thought Kara was selfish.”
“You’re right,” Barbara said, pulling the bedsheets tight around her shoulders. “Maybe I am just a horrible person. But I’m not the only one in this relationship with faults. And if I can overlook yours…”
“You literally cannot go five minutes without patronizing me, can you?” Dick finished tying his shoes and stood, stalking across the room.
“So what is it you want, then? An apology?”
“It’d be nice.”
“I’m sorry!” Barbara took off her glasses. “If I could take it back, I would. I know the person I am. I’m suspicious and I’m guarded and I think either I can make everything right all by myself or it’s a lost cause. But with you, I overcome that. I’m not like the person I used to be, I’m like someone new. After you told me you loved me, I felt reborn. And you can’t tell me I don’t make you feel the same way.”
Dick shook his head. “It’s not about the good times. It’s about the bad.” He headed for the door.
“Come back when you’re ready,” Barbara called after him, hating how her voice shook.
“Don’t hold your breath.”
***
Dick stormed to the elevator, where he jammed the call button repeatedly. When that wasn’t fast enough, he ran to the stairs. He got down two floors before his legs gave out.
He sat on a step, hands shaking, head throbbing with anger. It would be one thing if she’d begged him to take her back, but instead she’d made him work his ass off for the slightest hint of affection. And he always did. And she always held back til the last moment to return his love. It was maddening. It was no way to live.
He lost count of the minutes, but sometime later he got to his feet and continued down the stairs. He was still fuming, but his anger had mostly abated. Dick’s cell-phone rang and he checked it automatically. Barbara. He was in no mood to talk to her. Dick silenced the ringer and belatedly realized that he knew the ins and outs of operating his phone. With a tremendous sigh, he shoved through the door out of the stairwell and into the hotel lobby.
Dick looked around, his suspicion roused. There should’ve been people checking out, or at least a desk clerk on duty. But there was no one. Dick walked to the front desk and looked behind it. A blonde woman was facedown on the floor. She wore fishnet stockings.
Dick leaped the desk and turned Dinah over. Dinah’s face was contorted by an obscene grin like the crevice left by an earthquake. He checked her pulse. Faint, but there. If he ever felt a strong pulse, he’d probably keel over from shock. Dick stood and grabbed for the phone. A bullet tore through his leg. Teeth clenched and gurgling in pain, Dick collapsed beside Dinah.
“My,” the Joker said, leaping up onto the desk. A gun was smoking in his hand. “That looked like it hurt.”
Dick took off his jacket and ripped the sleeve off. Joker was in rant-mode. That meant he had some time to play with. He tied a tourniquet around his wound, turning the Italian silk red with blood.
“What do you want, Joker?”
“I’ve already got what I want, sonny boy. Or, more precisely, what the Calculator wants. A nice girl to multiply with!”
The elevator doors closed. Dick caught a brief glimpse of flesh before they shut. Groaning, he lolled his head back.
“Barbara.”
“Yup! The all-seeing Oracle… what a pain! So Calcy wants her removed from the equation, permanently. And while we’re at it, why not get all those juicy secrets she’s hoarding? All I had to do was find that hero she’s always chatting with on her dedicated comm channel, put a little dent in his skull (not to mention a tracking device), and wait for her to put on her naughty nurse outfit. Oh, that would be you, wouldn’t it? Don’t bother denying it, that mask really only covers your eyes.”
Dick tried to stand and collapsed again. “I thought you were an artist, Joker. Now you’ve sold out.”
“All great artists take commissions now and then. Besides, how many times do you get to remix your own work? Barbara Gordon, Jokerized… Part 2! Think I should paralyze her from the neck down this time, or would that be too much of a rehash?”
This time Dick managed to pull himself onto the desk, where he flopped onto his back, still pale from the pain. “If you touch her,” he said to the Joker, who he was viewing upside-down, “I’ll kill you.”
“Oh, if I had a penny for every time I heard that…”
“Fine. Touch her or not, I’ll still kill you, monster.” Dick sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the desk. “You deserve to die and I’m already damned. Might as well take you down with me.”
“Damned? You?” The Joker clapped his heels together. “Please. I’ve seen nuns who are more depraved. Felt nuns who were more depraved. Made nuns more depraved! Besides, Big Daddy Bats would kick you out of the house.”
“Not like I have much to lose. I’m in love with an emotional eunuch. I’ve already caused one death…”
Dick lunged, throwing himself at the Joker by force of his strong arms. He landed on top of the spindly man, both of them toppling off the desk and onto the floor. Before Joker could recover, Dick had an arm around his neck. ”What’s one more?”
Joker elbowed Dick repeatedly, but it wasn’t until he pounded his fist on the wound on Dick’s left leg that Dick let go. Joker got up and began kicking Dick savagely, then dancing a little jig, then kicking some more. Blood coursed down Dick’s face; a wingtip had sliced open his cheek. Finally, the Joker stopped with his sole on Dick’s throat.
“I need you alive. You need to tell Bats all about how it went down. You know, you’re not a very good sidekick. You haven’t even noticed that I ordered all of the civilians into the hotel vault before I gassed them. So don’t worry about them, they’re quite safe! Yeah, and you thought your puns were bad…”
The elevator chimed and the first thing Dick saw when the doors opened was Barbara, handcuffed. Her wheelchair was more of a prison than ever. The Joker’s new henchwoman, a butch-looking buzzcut blonde with swastikas stenciled over her breasts, had taken Barbara prisoner.
Dick felt his breathing hasten; exactly the reaction Joker was hoping for. He whooped it up while Dick burned with resentment, concern, and self-loathing.
The last thing I ever said to her… oh God, I didn’t take her call…
He tried to get up and the Joker shoved him back down.
“Bruno, my girl, one librarian, light on the intact spinal column!”
“Coming right up, mein fuhrer!”
Bruno took a running start and bowled Barbara’s wheelchair toward the Joker. He stopped it with his foot, sending Barbara tumbling out of it to the floor. She landed next to Dick, the hard tile floor splitting her scalp. Her eyes were wide, scared, pained.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Dick said as the Joker picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder. Her hair fell under her, clogged with blood. “Joker! I’m gonna kill you!”
“Again? You tried it once and brought me back like high-tops. What’s changed, pretty boy?”
“Me,” Dick said.
“Good for you. Well, I hate to leave a job half-done, especially when I’m paid on completion…” Joker patted Barbara’s ass. “Time to bring home the bacon. Hey, Wheels, you mind getting the door? Just one of those little Boomtubes you like to use for a trip to the corner store?”
“Fuck you.”
The Joker’s face soured. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. This party’s going to your place for a nightcap. Bruno?”
Bruno, hoisting an oversized revolver, minced over to Dick, pulled his body up by the hair, and jammed the barrel in his ear. “C’mon, red, you wouldn’t want to leave a mess for house cleaning.”
“Barbara, they need you alive! Just keep them occupied for a few minutes and Batman will…”
“Ten, nine, eight…”
Bruno cocked the revolver.
“Alright!” Barbara cried. “Let him go and I’ll help you.”
“Babs, he won’t—“
“I don’t have a choice,” Barbara said quietly. She pulled a slim Palm Pilot from her pocket, opened it, and typed in a command.
With a sound of encroaching thunder, a Boomtube opened. The lobby was blown around like it’d been hit by a hurricane. Bruno went through first, followed by the Joker. Barbara’s eyes never left Dick’s as she was carried through.
“I’m just happy we had something!” she shouted.
The Boomtube closed.
Dick was already activating the panic button program in his phone. The date of Bruce’s parents’ death, send… and a signal was sent out to bring the entire forces of the Batman down on the Gotham Hilton.
“Dick,” Batman said on the other end of the line.
Dick was dragging himself to Barbara’s abandoned wheelchair. “Joker. He poisoned the guests, took Barbara. I’ll need ambulances and the Batwing. Send it on autopilot to the roof of Gotham Hilton.”
He climbed into the chair, just then noticing that he’d left a trail of blood behind him. His tourniquet had been soaked through. Gritting his teeth, he tightened it. The pain was like a living thing, birthing, growing, hunting. His numb fingers still managed to grab the wheels and he awkwardly maneuvered himself to the elevator. The roof access restriction was easy to override. As he went up, Dick finally managed to breath.
The doors were metallic, reflecting. Dick looked at himself in them. A stranger stared back. He looked as if he’d aged ten years. Was this who he was, then? Really, deep down inside? Some kind of dark avenger, caught in an eternal loop of pain and vengeance? He was just getting tired of trying to figure it out. He’d been so many things to so many people… lover, friend, enemy, bastard, son, brother, leader, follower… and none of them seemed to fit.
No time for introspection now, though. The doors were opening. He wheeled out onto the roof, where the Batwing was already hovering. Bruce was as good as his word. Somehow, Dick managed to drag himself into the cockpit and program a course into the autopilot. The Batwing took off toward Metropolis.
Dalton Tower was a fortress and it was more than likely that Joker had made Barbara activate the defenses. A frontal assault by someone like Superman would turn the situation into a bloodbath. But he’d always been able to slip through Barbara’s defenses undetected, probably because she always left a hole for him.
Dick took a medkit from under the seat and dressed his wound, extracting the bullet and sewing it up. A bump of turbulence caused his hand to jolt, sending a wave of pain to capsize his body. He brought his breathing back down.
The Joker had said he’d planted a tracking device on Dick. Couldn’t have been in his clothes, so where…? Dick grabbed a spectrum analyzer and ran it over his head. He had to turn it up to its highest sensitivity, but it found a dull signal coming from his old wound. Almost snarling, Dick grabbed the nearest blade and got to work.
***
“This is boring!” Joker crowed as he bashed another wall with a mallet hammer. “All that trouble of kidnapping nerds and cripples, now we just wait while some boring program messes with Maxina Headroom’s systems.”
“It’s the computer age, herr Joker,” Bruno said as she spray-painted, a can of purple in one hand and a can of green in the other. She nastily drew a Day-Glo swastika over a picture of Dick and Barbara together. “The days of robbing a bank into a burlap bag with a $ on it are over. We’ve gotta keep up with the times.”
“It’s inflation. In the old days, you could get a giant exploding jack-in-the-box wholesale for pocket change. Now it’s all overhead…” Joker smashed apart a vase like Gallagher with a watermelon. “You have to get investors lined up for the simplest killing spree, and they always want you to cover up this or provide a distraction for that. It used to be about the murder, now everything’s just so corporate…”
Bruno’s purse, filled with the most darling pilfered silverware, rang. Bruno pulled her Blackberry out. “It’s the douche wonder, coming up from the lobby.”
“Finally!” The Joker pulled his gun, which was just a normal gun. He missed acid-custard pies and exploding rubber chickens. “You go say hello to him, I’ll do the hostage thing.”
“Jawohl,” Bruno said, taking the mallet from him.
The Joker left the room. She was all on her own now, ready to prove her worth to Mistah J. With Nightwing down, Batman would have no choice to show up. By that time, the entire tower would be one big death-trap. They could use Boomtubes to move in all the piranhas and aerosol canisters they needed! With the mallet slanted across one shoulder and the Blackberry in the other hand, she followed Nightwing’s tracking signal to the dumbwaiter.
“Be vewy vewy quiet, I’m hunting robins. Heh heh heh…”
The signal was almost to her. Bruno held the mallet high above her head as the dumbwaiter door slid open…
To reveal the bloody tracking device sitting atop a platter.
“Bon appetit,” Nightwing said as he grabbed her from behind and smashed her face against the wall. Her nose shattered in an eruption of pain, which doubled when he slammed her against the wall again. Mercifully, Bruno blacked out then. Dick cuffed her and tossed her aside to lump on the floor.
A moment passed. When Bruno didn’t stir, Nightwing drew a Batarang and prowled into the next room. It was even more desecrated, with small fires burning up piles of Barbara’s possessions. They provided the only light other than the stark illumination of the computer screens. Barbara was seated in a wheeled office chair, her back to Dick. The Joker was crouched in front of her.
“You look marvelous, darhling, simply marvelous,” Joker said in a heavily effeminate voice. “But let’s see how the viewers at home like your new look.”
He spun Barbara around. Nightwing instinctively took a step back in revulsion, raising a hand to his mouth to try to hold back his nausea. Her eyes were adrift in black pits, one of purple-tinged bruises, the other of messily-applied eyeshadow. Her mouth was lost in a dash of lipstick that scarred its way up to her cheeks, providing a uniform red darkness in which her rictus smile virtually glowed. The rest of her beautiful complexion was marred by dried blood and powder like she’d been brutalized by a powder puff.
As soon as she saw him, Barbara burst out laughing.
“I gave her an extra-special dose of my Joker Juice,” the Joker explained, shouting to be heard over Barbara’s insane laughter. The mere sound of his voice made her laugh louder. “Now she sees the humor in everything! Watch; AIDS.”
Barbara laughed til she cried.
“Rape.”
Tears streamed down Barbara’s wobbling cheeks, causing her make-up to run.
“Feminism.”
She whooped, hollered, slapped her knee.
“You’re a dead man,” Dick said, his quiet words almost lost in Barbara’s gales of laughter.
Like a magician performing a card trick, a scalpel appeared in the Joker’s hand and then shined in the shadowed hollows of Barbara’s collarbone.
“You? Kill me? Is that before or after I give your chair bear a second smile?” He took his other hand out from behind Barbara, cocking the gun in it. “Because I know it’ll have to be before I shoot you as dead as disco.”
Dick’s entire body was tense and short of breath, like a giant fist was squeezing him. The hellish smoke of the fires stung his eyes, squeezed his throat. Babs laughed louder, making Dick wonder how it was possible for her to breath.
“Disco! BWAH!” She pounded her fist on the chair’s armrest. “Strawberry! Hahaha! Ruth—HEEHOOHOO!”
Dick recognized the telltale bubblegum-flavor/baseball legend/philosopher opening of Barbara’s verbal-activation defenses. He braced himself for whatever she was cuing up.
“SMITH!!!” Barbara seizured.
The air split and let in the most piercing note Dick could’ve imagined. It felt as if his brain had been slapped. The Joker fared no better. He stumbled, the scalpel slipping from numb fingers. Nightwing staggered toward his enemy, fighting tooth and nail each step just to stay upright. No more than ten feet separated them, but it could’ve been ten thousand from the way the floor kept sliding under him.
The Joker grabbed hold of Barbara’s chair for support. He swung his other arm around to bring the pistol to bear on Nightwing. The first shot went wide. Dick couldn’t even hear the report over the sonics crashing against his eardrums. The second shot blew apart a flat-panel monitor two feet to Dick’s left. Motes of blazing glass tingled against his skin. He ignored it, putting all his willpower into following one footstep with another. Just six more feet…
The third shot winged his arm, almost spinning him completely off-balance. The pain broke past the torturous haze of the sonics. He felt the blood babbling out of his body and down his arm.
“Fall, fall!” the Joker screamed, sending two more bullets flying past him. “It’s not funny anymore!”
“I think it’s hysterical,” Dick gritted out through clenched teeth. Then all speech deserted him, lost in a howl of pain.
A bullet had finally found his body, punching in and out of his right shoulder. So Dick swung his left arm. The punch connected. He felt his knuckles smash Joker’s jaw to powder.
For a moment, all three of them were disconnected, spinning. Dick could see, from the corner of his eye, Barbara shutting down the sonics as she wiped the tears from her eyes. The Joker tried to pistol-whip him, but he was groggy, disoriented. And Dick was ready for him. He ducked under the blow and came up swinging, this time smashing in the Joker’s pointed nose.
Joker struck back, a wild punch to his shoulder that spurted blood out the other end. Dick collapsed against a nearby desk in pain and Joker kicked him in his bandaged leg, nearly driving him to the ground. But he rallied and forced himself back onto his feet as the Joker reloaded. Dick grabbed for the gun as he tackled Joker onto a table, more wild shots blasting plaster down from the ceiling. Finally, he managed to overpower the Joker and slam his head down against the table. Again. Again. Again. Again.
Head ringing, limps aching, Dick picked up the gun. He put it to the Joker’s left thigh and pulled the trigger. The Joker screamed like a girl. Then Dick put it to the Joker’s right leg and fired. This time the Joker just moaned deeply. So Dick stuffed the barrel into his mouth.
“How… about… a smile?”
Joker’s eyes were mad, alive, bloodshot and yellow and Dick wanted them to shut. Soft fingers wrapped around his wrist, trying to relax his grip, but he held firm.
“No,” Barbara said, horribly giggly. “No. You can’t…”
“It’s what he deserves. For what he did to you. What he did to us…” Dick’s finger tightened on the trigger, but he couldn’t pull it. He looked at Barbara. “This is who I am. I’m a killer. When they push me, this is what I become. It’s inside me.”
Barbara slid her hand under Dick’s glove and sleeve to touch bare skin, finding it horrendously clammy. “It’s inside all of us. But that doesn’t mean… you told me it’s not our memories that make us who we are. You’re choosing who you are.”
“I’ve made my choice!” Dick pressed the barrel in deeper. “What difference does it make if I don’t kill him? It won’t change what I’ve done before.”
“It’ll matter to me,” Barbara said. ”You’re better than this. So much better than this. I love you too much to see you like this. Please. Make the right choice, for me.”
“Ib I coub interject…” Joker tried to say.
Dick screamed and jerked the gun out of the Joker’s mouth. He sat down, the gun seeming to drag him down into his seat.
“I can’t do it. I’ve done it before. Why can’t I…”
“Because you’re not the same man you were be… be… HEE!”
Barbara dissolved into a fit of hysterical laughter. Everything went to giggly, hilarious black.
***
When Barbara woke up, her body was aching too hard for anything to be funny. She opened her eyes and, wouldn’t you know it, her eyelids hurt. With a gentle moan, she took stock of her surroundings. A hospital, just like she’d figured. She was really getting tired of hospitals.
Dick leaned over her, his face dirty with stubble. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Funny.” The blurriness she had attributed to waking up wasn’t resolving. Smiling sheepishly, Dick handed Barbara her glasses. She looked around to see a surprising amount of well-wishes, including a floral arrangement that could only be Dinah’s and her father’s coat on an empty chair.
“Last thing… I was laughing, you had your gun down the Joker’s throat… oh my God, is he okay!?”
“Is he okay?” Dick beat his breast repeatedly in mock-pain. “He’s fine. Back in Arkham, hopefully for good.”
“Yeah, right.”
Barbara took a closer look at Dick. His bruises were fading and his cuts were mere scrapes, though his wounded arm was in a cast and there were crutches propped against the wall by his chair. But all in all, he looked little the worse for wear. She sighed in relief.
Dick tapped her IV bag. “Doctors have you on a cure. Not much side effects, although…” He poured a glass of water from a pitcher and held it out to her, “you may experience some dryness of the mouth.”
Barbara took the water and gratefully drank it. Dick stretched, making Barbara wonder just how long he’d sat there to build up so many audible cracks and pops in his joints, then he turned his chair around and straddled it. His face was… relaxed. Despite the slightly hooded look to his eyes, his mouth was curved into an easy smile that looked impregnable to scowling. She stretched out her hand and Dick reluctantly took it.
“You couldn’t shoot him because you knew it was wrong.”
“I couldn’t shoot him because you were there. Not, in the room, just…” He tapped his heart. “I’m trying to be sentimental, bear with me.”
“I’m all ears,” Barbara said as she enclosed his hand in both of hers.
“When I thought he hurt you, I… that’s not what I was thinking about, avenging you. I was thinking about saving you. Because you’re someone I want to live up to, not just for you, but for me.” Dick scratched at the few days’ worth of beard on his face. “I remember being the kind of man who is all about rage and pain and I don’t like being him. And I remember being just… this guy, with you, and I have fun. I missed that. So I’ve made my choice. It’s not about the Joker or you or Bruce… it’s about me. Thanks for showing me that.”
“You’re welcome,” Barbara said, numb and surprisingly touched by Dick’s quiet confession.
Dick stood up, slipping his hand away from Barbara. “I should probably get your dad.”
“And then where are you going?”
“Back to New York, I guess. And then there are some old friends who really need to know how important they are to me.”
“Can it wait?”
Dick glanced at her, surprised.
Barbara folded her hands across her lap, feeling and immensely grateful for the engagement ring on her finger. It felt like it had been there all along.
“I’d kind of like to make some new memories,” Barbara said.
Dick leaned down and kissed her so hard she was sure she’d never be able to remember it as good as it really was, even with photographic memory. But that was alright.
They could always reenact it.
Thanks go out to Thyme for betaing this.
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Date: 2008-03-06 01:08 pm (UTC)In fact I loved this so much, I feel horrible about one nitpick: Bruno comes down with Babs bound and gagged. And yet, a minute later she's talking and punching the code in her palm pilot. Maybe my eyes slid over the part where he cuts her loose for giggles?
Anyway, GREAT fic!
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Date: 2008-03-06 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-06 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-06 09:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-07 06:16 am (UTC)Thank you so much for telling me about this story; I had a lot of fun reading it.
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Date: 2008-03-07 06:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-07 05:06 pm (UTC)Yeah, they're both such poor woobies... if only "I was being written by Devin Grayson" counted as an in-universe excuse.
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Date: 2008-03-07 05:07 pm (UTC)That's my quintessential Batverse.
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Date: 2008-03-07 05:09 pm (UTC)Well, you know, "fun" at times, but what longfic isn't?
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Date: 2008-03-07 05:10 pm (UTC)Everyone loved that. At times, fandom can be immature... and gloriously so.
Glad you liked it. And the sex.
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Date: 2008-03-07 05:13 pm (UTC)Course, I'm writing a fic that's thirteen parts and counting. And toward the end, each one ends with a cliffhanger. I don't know how people are gonna survive.
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Date: 2008-03-07 11:30 pm (UTC)And excellent work overall. Really loved it!
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Date: 2008-03-09 03:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-13 08:41 am (UTC)