Staring in surprise as Bruce Wayne of all people had emerged with a batarang in hand, as he threw it a brilliant explosion of electricity crackled around the intruders, seemingly stopping them in their tracks. Luke mentally kicked himself as multiple realizations slammed into his brain at once. Of course it's Bruce Wayne, his flaky playboy personality is only a cover. I should have known only one man in Gotham could have the motive, and the money to be Batman. Only one man could have designed the base Batwing suit, no doubt he had help from my dad Lucius. I suppose all those years he spent away from Gotham is how he got his extensive martial arts training. Glancing around the room Luke slowly tried to deduce the Bat families identities. The boy Damian can only be Robin, the blond girl must be Batgirl, black hair is the Black Bat. From what I've seen in the papers there's reports of a red headed Batwoman. Batwoman is she also..no, I doubt they're all related to Bruce. As for the other three men, who are they? Shortly after Bruce's entrance Luke was informed of his father's death at the hands of Mr.Freeze. Vowing revenge Luke began to boil in his own anger. He'll pay for this, my father did nothing wrong! He didn't deserve to die! As soon as I find him, I'll make sure he gets what he deserves! Trying to keep himself in calm by focusing on the mission, Luke began to slip out his phone and pressed an odd combination of buttons on the keypad, a combo that contained more symbols than numbers, and signaled his bunker to deliver his suit. With Luke's suit being to unwieldy to carry under his civvies or in his sports car he had programmed a personal delivery system. His bunker was to load up his suits' capsule into the back of his tumbler, a vehicle which Batman had given Luke at the start of his career in Africa, and find the most inconspicuous route to him in order to safeguard identities. Following Bruce and his allies down into the Batcave Luke couldn't help but be amazed at the set up. Dozens of vehicles, suits, and gadgets were on display or on a work table. Looking at some gadgets in particular his brain couldn't help itself as he began to think of multiple was to redesign and improve upon the tools and weapons. But his wonder and amazement left him as his father's recent passing hit him again. Arriving at 'ground floor' in the Batcave Luke began to look towards Bruce. "If you don't have a plan I'll go after Freeze myself." Luke said, anger seemed to drip through his words, even through his attempts at disguising his emotions.

Tim remained a member of the team as they dealt with the issues at hand. While he didn't directly engage in combat with the assassins he focused on getting everyone evacuated. When the situation started to calm down he joined the rest in the cave as they were finishing suiting up. He hid his own uncomfortable shift as everyone already seemed eager to lock and load. When Jason moved out he gave a hard thought to activating the lock down on the bike so it wouldn't run. He stopped himself when he saw Bruce. If he wanted Jason moving then Tim wasn't one to question it. Apparently they were letting the pit bull of the leash. Tim found his backup suit still resting in its case. It was one of the older models that held plenty of Dr. Midnight jokes on its sleeves. Still he wasn't going to complain. This one had a few downgrades he actually liked including an older model cowl computer. As he changed he set his own super computer to work pulling up all known situations involving the tragic Doctors recent actives. It also drew up the last known location of the doctors wifes cryo tube. Already moved by now Tim figured that might be a place to look if the trail runs cold. He grinned at the level of puns that worked with most villains. It was like the entire world was just one big joke... Not that any of this was a joke. "Don't go jumping into hell Luke. You don't even have your suit with you at the moment." Tim then turned to Batman. "Capture or follow?" Tim asked Bruce. The question now was what sort of move was this by Freeze. Was this a single act take out the CEO sort of deal or was this step one in something bigger. Tim knew it was something bigger. Fox was a big target for a lot of things, but a simple assassination wasn't fitting the pieces. Especially one so public. What Freeze didn't know was his step one happened right in front of the worst possible family you could pick...unless that was the step one. "We need to recognize how unlikely this was a coincidence." Time said slowly. "The fact that every involved member of the Bat sign was at this event can't be ruled out of the plans this attack had." Time looked over at Bruce. "This could be the man's way of fishing. Seeing how this death affects us. We go all out it could be us playing our hands and showing Fox was close. Closer than anyone to this organization. High name assassinations get our attention, but not the entire family..." Tim realized he should cut the motorcycle Jason was currently flapping about in. Instead he saw another move. He switched his microphone to the motorcycles frequency and started to talk. "Jason lose the bat symbol. No immediate connection to the bat family can be pulled into this manhunt. Go dark side. Pretend you are pissed because someone brought heat down on your empire with the Fox killing. Pretend the cops think it was your smuggling route by the north docks is how these things got snuck into the country." Tim then let go of the radio in his right ear and looked back at the group. "Someone crashed the wedding. Let's not lose ourselves...Game plan should be to follow Freeze. Find out what this was a part of and get him a new pair of shiny cuffs for his wrist." Since founding the Teen Titans and acting as their leader Tim had grown more and more comfortable with stepping into the leadership roles when cases arise even in Gotham. He looked over at Damion and already started to wish Dick could take him when they went out on patrol. He didn't know who he would swing with, but he wasn't looking forward to babysitting. He also caught Damion frowning several times as he talked about the situation they were in. Wearing a 'Why not just kill him.' sort of face. Cass was already in uniform looking ready for the team to move out. Batman wasn't suited but made a heck of an entrance with the batrang as a gavel.

Being let in on Gotham's biggest secret was a little intimidating, even for Kate. Most of them, probably all of them, have been at it longer than she has. For the longest time the deal was "don't get in my way and I won't get in yours", but now she had to rethink their entire relationship. Not only that but her best friend wasn't who she thought she was. It was a bit much to take in all at once. But despite her misgivings, Kate didn't hesitate to follow Steph further down the rabbit hole when asked. As the two ventured further down shadowed corridors painted with the faint echo of footsteps, Steph opened up in a way Kate never could. She listened intently to Steph's story, one of self-reliance and selfless justice. In a small way, Kate was glad she was able to gaze upon a side of Steph that she's never seen before. Sharing her own story wasn't something Kate was sure she could do just yet, not even with Steph. Being an open book hasn't exactly worked out for her in the past, although by the sound of it there wasn't much they didn't know about her. She couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Soon they passed thru a hulking steel door with a security system so advanced Kate didn't even know it existed. She half expected to find a rocket ship or giant robot on the other side of those doors. Honestly tho, there wasn't much that could've surprised her even more that day. What she found was two Batsuits side by side. The purple one was obviously Steph's, somehow it just felt like a color she'd choose. The other one looked like Kate's except not as clunky or chunky. "To be honest, Bruce didn't know about this suit until recently...I was planning on revealing myself and offering this as a gift. You know; so you wouldn't die, and I wouldn't lose one of my only friends." Kate couldn't help but smile a little as she watched Steph worry about her. Who knew receiving a bulletproof suit could be so cute. She gently laid a hand on Steph's shoulder to reassure her. "You don't need to worry about me, sweetheart. I don't plan on dying anytime soon. So, is there a changing room somewhere or should I strip right here?" After suiting up, Kate found the suit not only lighter but cooler too. It felt like a feather and fit like a glove. Those measurements Steph got were really precise. And now she could finally reach behind her back. Even the wig wasn't itchy and didn't smell like plastic. The new gadgets would get some time to get used too, but they were far more advanced than what she was carrying around before. Not completely sure what everything does, Kate just filled her new belt with stuff that Steph recommended: smoke pellets, extra grapple line, heated Batarangs, those kind of things. It was kinda weird seeing Steph as Batgirl. Being told she's Batgirl is one thing, but actually seeing her suited up was a reminder of how real this all was. "Yeah, purple is definitely your color."

The day had been strange, even for Gotham City. Mayor Carlton Hayes had been present with the rest of Gotham City's elite when violence and insanity errupted at Wayne's wedding. That something happened at a Wayne event wasn't completely surprising--no Gotham big donor had worse luck than Bruce Wayne. From his parents to his wedding, it appeared. With an ache in his lower back from being shoved into an SUV by security and hurried away, to say nothing of a headache from all the frightened screams, all Carlton Hayes wanted was to escape into his private study, relax his weary and battered body into his plushy cushioned chair, then pour himself the biggest glass of Scotch he possibly could. After today's events, GCPD had demanded to go through his Gotham City midtown penthouse with a fine tooth comb. Carlton allowed it, though insisted the officers hurry about it. They had just COME from combat...did the GCPD really expect it to follow him home? Of course not. It was an unnessary safety precaution. On a day when all Hayes wanted was to be alone with his thoughs, his Scotch, and process just what he'd witnessed. It wasn't until he reached the mini bar of his private study, poured that drink, and let the strong scent of alcohol aged in charcoal barrels sift up through his nostrils and to his brain, allowing the man to relax for the first time all day. The first bitter sip was taken with a near smile, his eyes locking into his chair and the television built into the hard wood bookshelf lining the west wall of the private study. He even sighed audibly, contently, when his backside finally met the soft leather of the study's desk chair. A sigh interrupted by the sound of flatulence, a sound that surprised and sent Carlton Hayes straight back to his feet. "What the he--" The word went unfinished, fear freezing the last syllable of the word in his throat when the whoopee cushion came into sight, and that laughter cut across the private study like a dagger in the darkness, until it settled into a twisted cackle. Carlton Hayes turned to scream, but his throat refused, swelling and forcing the man to drop the glass and bring his hands to his throat as he gagged, and choked for air. "Bad gas, Mr. Mayor?" The pale faced demonic grin was the very last thing Mayor Hayes would see before blackness flooded into his vision, conciousness seeping from the Mayor of Gotham City until his body hit the floor of the private study. That Jason Todd would leave before intelligence was disseminated and a plan of action could be briefed was disturbing. Surely, Bruce thought, he'd trained the boy better than that. But there were more important issues at hand. Freeze had turned to madness and irrationality in his overwhelming grief, looking to strike Batman and Bruce Wayne on a bitterly personal level. The only explaination for Freeze targetting Lucius and not Selina that Bruce could immediately see as plausible was that Freeze either believed he was seriously hampering the Batman's capabilities by taking out Lucius. But that assumed a certain logic that it was just too dangerous to assume Freeze still possessed in his mourning for Nora. When everyone re-appeared dressed and at the ready, Bruce spoke up. "We've tracked Freeze to an old STAR Labs facility on the river, in the shadow of the Kane bridge. Satellite imagery suggests the building has been fortified with giant sheets of ice. Freeze may be a mortal man once more, but I would expect him suited and ready for blood. His suit is still his greatest weakness, even cured. He depends on it. He obsesses over it. He will presume advantages that we can take advantage of. Hit him fast, hit him hard. Same for his thugs; some I recognize from time spent with other criminals, most notably Black Mask and the Penguin. These are professional killers he has hired, not Freeze's normal thug. Be aware. They will likely be armed with his ice weaponry. I would expect Freeze to be holed up in the cryogenics lab at the STAR facility, it's the largest room, and the most secure--located at the center of the building. We should be able to burn our way into the building; I'll take the front approach. I want everyone else finding ways in from the roof and river. If you have questions, ask them on the way. Barbara will be acting as our eyes and ears in the sky from the Batcomputer. Go. Take whatever vehicle you feel would work best for your decided approach." Everyone moved to get going, until Bruce's voice rose once more: "Damian, Stephanie, stay behind should something come up. " Like a ninja ninja'ing a ninja, so Stephanie Brown appeared behind Damian Wayne as if by magic, both her gauntleted hands gently gripping Damian's shoulder, squeezing with the slightest of pressures to convey the silent message to the boy, knowing the displeasure he all but certainly felt in that moment: Not now. "We got it covered." It was with a kindness and a softness rarely, rarely, seen that Bruce Wayne stepped to his son, and knelt to talk to the boy eye-to-eye. "Each of us a role, and each role of vital importance, Damian." As his father had to him, so Bruce's large hand settled on the back of his young son's neck, pressing their foreheads so close they all but touched, the voice of Batman appearing in such a hush, only Damian would have heard him. "Do. your. job." Even as Bruce let go and stood to his full height, his eyes never left the boy. Not until the last moment, until he turned and walked to the path that led up and to the right--towards the mag-tube system that he would step into, and be shot from the cave to the city, changing into the Batsuit as he went. When the ride stopped, the multiple doors hissed open, allowing Batman to step out of what appeared to be a large industrial A/C unit atop a building...only half a city block from the STAR facility Freeze had chosen as a last stand. A few rooftops later, and Batman was perched upon the roof of the building just across from the STAR facility that glowed an icy azure from it's massive ice walls, and giant ice spikes coming from the building at gnarled, lethal, angles. "Batman in position. Check in. Go on my mark."

Damian was already halfway to the Batmobile by the time Batman finished the briefing and told everyone to go and take whatever vehicle suited his style of approach. He would practically ram the walls of ice down at full speed to get to Freeze and his cyborg killers. It wouldn't matter that Todd had stolen his R-cycle or even that apparently killer cyborgs and a man in a powered exo-skeleton still weren't enough of a threat to warrant a sword, he would- "Damian, Stephanie, stay behind should something come up. " The current Boy Wonder visibly stumbled as his legs turned to rubber mid-step. Damian had gotten into some extremely heated arguments in the Batcave including one that ended in attempted murder, but as he whirled to confront Batman there was no doubt in his mind that this one would top all of them. Robin was his birthright, his destiny, it wasn't just some title he'd taken up like the others had it was what he was meant to be, and now his father was ordering him to abandon that role while people Damian had just met fought beside him. He was the Son of the Bat, Spawn of the Demon. He had never been accustomed to 'No' and after hearing it over something so unbelievably important the sheer flood of angry, spiteful words that came to mind made his head feel like it was going to burst. It was so bad that he hadn't even realized that Batgirl had snuck up on him. After a lifetime among assassins it was as much shock that someone had managed to catch him off guard as it was the slight, bizarrely reassuring pressure on his shoulders that defused him. He was still shaking slightly as he choked back a thousand different starts to a meltdown, but he didn't even notice. "We got it covered." It was lucky she hadn't given him the chance to speak. He wasn't sure what he would've said if he could. His father's response had such an unfamiliar, almost alien level of kindness to it that he practically felt the majority of the anger melt away in the face of it as much as he tried to cling onto it. He was right even if Damian didn't want to admit it. His role as Robin came with its' own responsibilities and if Batman thought that staying behind was what he was meant to do it was his responsibility as Robin to obey the order and do his job. The moment was also probably the closest he'd been to a hug that he could remember. "...Fine. I'll stay." He tried to keep eye-contact with Bruce even as he moved to leave the Cave, wanting to fix the moment in his mind...naturally so that he could avoid future failures, that was all. Still somewhat in shock he waited until Batman and the others had left the Cave before turning his full attention back to Stephanie Brown. "-tt- I was only upset because that idiot Todd stole the R-cycle, Fatgirl..If you don't get that through your inconceivably thick skull, I'm finding wherever you hid my knives and stabbing you. More importantly, what are we supposed to do until the city starts falling down around us? And before you even start, the answer had better not be anything ridiculous and childish."

The Riverside, huh? Well, good thing Jason's crawl was nearby. It hadn't taken Jason particularly long to reach the formerly abandoned apartment complex that served as his safe-house. After all, he was driving a motorcycle used by vigilantes that had to reach one end of Gotham to the other in a matter of minutes. The place was in pristine shape considering he hadn't stepped foot in it for four years, granted expecting a homeless person in Gotham to be capable of breaking in to a miniature Batcave, or whatever it was former Bat-sidekicks were supposed to call their bases of operations was a bit of a stretch, but if there was one thing you'd learn as Robin, it's that anything can happen in Gotham. One could never be too fashionably paranoid. Going through the tedious multi-step process of actually getting into the place from the outside without someone opening the door for you, which, as you would expect, involved a little eye recognition device in the peephole and a secret security panel or two, Jason sighed to himself while he looked over the scattered papers, ammunition clips and candy wrappers that showed definitively how much of a rush he was to get out of Gotham the last time he was there. Clean up would have to wait for later, for now, he had more important things to do. While he had a variable arsenal of weapons and hidden goodies in unsuspecting drawers and plants, Jason found something particularly alluring about a good old fashioned stash in the closet approach. Being in a pristine penthouse with a walk in closet certainly helped with that endeavor. It only took him a minute or two to swap out the live ammunition in his pistols with rubbers and place a couple miniature blow torches in his jacket before changing into the cargo pants, combat boots, and form fitting armor that served as the rest of his Red Hood getup before he held the eponymous helmet in his hands. He lingered for a moment, staring into the crimson metal before placing it over his raven hair, sliding into his other persona in a matter of seconds. Minutes later Jason flicked a light-switch to reveal a massive garage filled to the brim with scattered cars and motorcycles, from showroom quality Harley-Davidsons to the bare framework of a Shelby Cobra. If you didn't know better, you'd probably confuse it for a mechanic's dream rather than a criminal's hobby shop. Walking past the borrowed Batcave cycle, Jason took his place on the Ducati that served as his main method of transport while Red Hooding. Jason parked his motorcycle in an alley almost a block to the south of the STAR Labs facility that Freeze had poetically chosen as the site of his last stand. Putting his hands in his pockets and making his way to the end of the Kane Memorial Bridge, Jason figured Bruce and the others would prefer he not go in guns blazing, and as such lingered near a pair of docks far enough away from where he assumed the Caped Crusaders would be making their entrance as to not be associated with them. Not to mention he didn't quite want to deal with the usually ballistic technicalities that came from a rooftop entrance, granted diving in the Gotham river on Christmas Day wasn't exactly appealing either. "Red Hood ready to go." He proclaimed into the communicator he had commandeered earlier, preparing himself for whatever insanity was sure to follow.

“Hold positions” Batman growled as only he could. “Nightwing, move” Dick hadn’t went by that name in years and he wasn’t particularly fond of going by it again. “Move” Bruce hissed again. He had forgotten. Before Dick ever did anything, he had his ritual. Placing his headphone in with an indie song you’ve never heard of playing, he revved the engine of the old heavy set Mark II Batmobile and slammed his foot down. Dick always was fond of the old Tumbler Batmobile, it was the first one he ever got to drive. Ploughing through sheets of ice like a bat out of hell, pun not intended, the former Nightwing was glad the old STAR Labs corridors were as wide as they were long. Over his radio he could hear the other members of the family swooping in from their respective perches. The faint rattle on the steering wheel let Dick know that there were crazy thugs being bounced off of the black monster of a vehicle. A flick of a button my his first ward and Bruce watched as the ice ceiling came tumbling down. Diving down through the falling ice, Batman crashed onto a console in front of Freeze. “VICTOR IT’S OVER!” Fries lunged for Bruce but the wiley vigilante had other ideas. Grabbing Freeze from behind he launched his rope into the air and pulled the villain up through the rafters. He had something in mind for this particular foe… The fight had been going on for just over an hour. The snow had been stained by the blood of the combatants on the Robert Kane bridge. The bulky Freeze had been ripped from his suit by Bruce. At his age, the old Bat’s swell-muscled body was littered with battle scars from blades, bullets and broken bones and every inch ached in fights like this. Fries had obviously been training in his time for this very outcome. That said, it only took a second for Bruce to switch positions and make his way behind the iceman. He was faster than most fighters, he had trained with the best. His strong arms wrapped the cold hearted bruiser in a full nelson. With what little strength he had left, Victor stormed towards the edge of the bridge. The two men went over the railing, Bruce grabbed the rail but Fries went right over, following his late wife down the 100ft drop. Laying upon the frozen water, blood seeping from inside his ear, body broken, Fries watched as the Bat family amassed over him. A family, something he would never have. “Victor” A voice called. “Victor, it’s time to come home” Bruce dropped down to his knees and looked over his fallen foe, placing a hand on the scientists chest. “Sleep well, Victor. She’s waiting for you” “Nora”…..Victor smiled.

(Dblade & Ruby collab.) "Yeah, let's go." Batgirl sounded distracted when she said it, reading an e-mail off a small phone before tucking it away behind her cape. She said very little else, walking in a bee line to the nearest console and punching in a simple command. It was Steph's favorite ride, even if it was used little for being such a new design. The 'flying' Batmobile was at least something Damian was familiar with, too. Some said it looked more like a bat-winged UFO, and maybe that's why Steph liked it so much. It had to be a strange thing to look out one's window, and see the black and red vehicle floating down your alley soundlessly. It was only strapped in and halfway to Gotham City that the blonde snapped out of it. "We have a source that's always been very solid. As in, everything they've told us has panned out to one degree or another in the past. But the tips have always been small, relative to most of the other stuff we have to deal with. They just sent us a message saying the Mayor was kidnapped. I'd call the cops and ask if the Mayor was okay or not, but...I don't trust any of the ones left behind from the Freeze thing." With new purpose, Batgirl pressed the throttle forward, causing the bat-winged UFO to burst forward and the two caped-crusaders forced back into the seats. "Don't say anything where we're headed. No kidding, or we'll find out which of us can put the other down first," there was no play there, no spark, no hint of anything but a tone that was low and deadly serious. Suddenly the craft had stopped moving, and Batgirl's appearance was little more than a sliver of cape sliding after her. They landed upon the roof of a building as little more than shadows with eyes filled with attitude. Their forms cloaked in blackness, appearing for a moment here, then there, then a moment later over half down a set of stairs, then a hallway lined with what appeared hotel doors. The walls dark with few working lights--and Steph killed one of those to provide more darkness for the two of them. She ignored the sounds of sex coming muffled from the other side of every door they passed. At the end of the hall was another set of stairs, and another light killed, but there was no hall on the otherside of the door at the bottom of these stairs. The door they went through was painted black, and the very wall it attached to was shaking from a mighty rumble. Through the door was still darkness...but also lights. Green, red, purple, blue, white, orange, zapping in and out of photonic existance, lighting up the darkness surrounding the metal catwalk the duo found themselves passing through, below a floor that moved more like waves from their vantage point and distance than actual people on a dance floor. But they didn't stay, slipping out the door opposite the one they'd used to slink onto the cat walk. A hallway looking much like the last; a bit dank, very dark, old yet thick brown carpet, no furniture or art or hint of life upon any of the walls. Batgirl took the first door available facing the exterior of the building, since all of it was one big room here, anyway. They were lucky enough to come into shadow, the near forty feet long room mainly lit with mobile spotlighting on tripods that centered their light upon the center of the room. Under the lights were three long and narrow tables and the near deafening sound of moneycounters that lined the tables, each stands of bills around it, and a girl in bra and panties behind it. Just off from the the long narrow tables was their source; clad in a guady, glittry, gown with platinum blonde hair that rolled down to her shoulders, brownish black eyes framed in a bit much eyeliner, eyeshadows an explosion of gold glitter. She sat in a large, heavily padded, leather skinned high back chair--surrounded by a pack of girls in their late teens, early twenties, from Steph's first glance. Needless to say, everything stopped the second Batgirl and Robin suddenly appeared at line between light and darkness in the big, long, room. Some gasped. Some exclaimed with their favorite curse word, as if they'd seen a ghost in the midnight hour. All of them starred. Even the ones counting cash. "Where?" It was Batgirl's only question worth asking. "55th and Scarsdale," the Madame glittered gold answered without so much as a smile. Batgirl disappeared back to darkness, Robin half a heartbeat later. Robin followed along wordlessly as Batgirl headed out without mentioning why or where. Normally he would at least ask what they were going to do but Batgirl's sudden lack of banter was a refreshing change of pace and he didn't want to risk ruining it. Then he was distracted from asking entirely. The flying Batmobile was his favorite out of the Bat-Vehicles for many reasons, not least of which was that he'd had a hand in building it. As they strapped in and took off Robin noted with more than a little pride that it was now running almost completely silently, though there were still improvements to be made. He would have to ask Lucius to- Oh...right. Lucius is dead. He took a minute to force himself to confront the fact and accept it, then stored it away and moved on. There would be time to grieve later when they weren't flying towards who-knows-what. For now Robin had a job to do. He was just about to ask what exactly that job was when Batgirl spoke up again. They were heading towards an informant, apparently to gain a tip on the location of the kidnapped Mayor? Mistrust of the police seemed fairly sensible for Batgirl, after all there were hardly a handful of cops in the city that didn't reek of corruption and almost all of those that didn't had been with Gordon during Freeze's attack and had likely wound up injured. Still, they could easily be walking into a trap, and as the Batmobile sped forward and pushed him back against his seat he considered breaking his silence to ask for enough detail to avoid getting them killed through Batgirl's carelessness. But her sudden admonishment not to say anything was far more interesting than any other information she could have given him. First of all, he was fairly certain what the answer would be if it came to one of them seriously putting the other down. He was faster than her, better trained, more ruthless. If he had bothered considering it then it was true that she had years of practical experience on him, a significant reach advantage, and wouldn't have to spend every second of the fight holding back from accidentally killing him not to mention the only 'fights' Robin had had with Batgirl outside of sparring had ended with him frozen solid or being mockingly swung by his ankles like a child on a playground...but considering any of that would mean potentially acknowledging her as better, and that was almost amusingly ridiculous. Secondly and more importantly, no talking meant no banter, no teasing, no "jokes" or quips. They would spend this entire next portion of the mission in relative silence, likely completely humorless, and even if Batgirl said anything he would be expected to not make any reply whatsoever. He couldn't remember when the idea of following orders had made him happier. Unfortunately that happiness just about evaporated when they arrived at their destination. Some sort of brothel obviously. It stank of corruption and vice and things Robin's mind wasn't prepared to contemplate and the sounds were enough to make him pull his hood over his head in an attempt to insulate himself in disgust. The Boy Wonder suddenly considered the possibility that Batgirl's 'quiet game' had been set up to prevent him from verbally scourging her about the location but decided it might also have something to do with actual danger or bringing someone his age here in the first place, vigilante or not. Other than pulling his hood up and his cape around him he hid any other signs of being disturbed by the place fairly well. It wouldn't do for Batgirl to see the Son of Batman bothered in any way that was remotely childish. If nothing else at least Batgirl was able to move through the area with a competent amount of stealthy professionalism despite lacking his upbringing and the shadows gave them something to work with once she killed the remaining lights. That was until they walked through a black door into a room filled with a bombardment of sound, light and people that would have likely made an ordinary child nauseous. The room after that was blessedly silent, filled with plenty of comforting shadows, and the room after that... Well, if Robin wasn't intimately familiar with the term 'necessary evil' he wouldn't have minded setting that room on fire. His estimate might be a little naive but the money that flowed through there looked like it must match up to at least a quarter of the prostitution in Gotham and the 'woman' at the center of all of it reminded him mainly of some sort of gaudy, gilded tick, or maybe a golden spider. He found himself slipping back to stand further in shadow, not wanting to say anything even if Batgirl hadn't promised to fight him over it. Since he couldn't burn it down he took some satisfaction at the reactions of the room's occupants. When they left to go hunt down the mayor he only paused to give the whole place one last disgusted look before following. "So...55th and Scarsdale?" If anyone was about to make a quip about what they'd just seen, it wasn't Robin. Holy Whores, Batgirl. "Yeah." Steph had a few friends who'd become strippers after highschool. Batgirl had kept one from getting raped one night, but hadn't noticed the other become addicted to perscription drugs to the point of lethal overdose. Sex could make a girl money, and some saw it as a way to reclaim feminine power, but most fell into a predatory relationship. And even their 'working relationships' could be violent and degrading as a norm. It could all too easily lead into depression; and depression was often simply the cliff's edge that started the fall to darker places. Quite honestly, Batgirl couldn't have gotten out of there fast enough. She was even hard enough on the throttle to get some noise of the Batmobile, until it swooped just above the height of the nearby brick buildings and took off north. The HUD of her cowl had already given her a computer generated layout of the destination, and it looked shady as shit: it was a construction site. But it was a very large construction site, the kind that was created to raise a skyscraper into the skyline of Gotham City. The first thing done at such sites was to carve out the foundation...a really, really, big pit. With heavy machinery lining the tops of said big pit. Before even arriving, Stephanie knew where the mayor would be: in the right at the bottom of the pit. Right in the middle. "I'll drop you on the east side, I'll come in at the west side. Meet in the middle, don't jump down into that pit without clearing the top perimeter." Then she hit the hatch to let him out, and quickly set the vehicle down in an alley just across the street. The first gunshot she heard let her know Robin was already at work by the time she snuck in, her knuckles coming alive with the hiss and spark of electricity. Maybe start your jump in now? And we'll edit yours and mine below together? The first thing she noticed was just how large they were; each one of these thugs seemed a poster boy for steroid usage. She saw nearly all colors and nationalities, but each of them wore combat pants and boots, some gun vests, some shirtless. All shaved bald, some had fangs. No females. Wasn't that not at all any kind of surprise to Batgirl. Most wore some strange, illuminated, cyclpos-lensed glasses. When it started, there was no screwing around. The wattage she punished these brutes with was nearly lethal. Every strike was debilitating in intent, but it took unleashing a deep level of anger and violence to get the result she needed out of these strikes. Even with success in ratcheting up the violence and aggression. she was nearly shot four separate times. Once from a sniper than she didn't even screw with, she simply blew up the platform in which the sniper had nested himself. It was extreme, but at this point the one thing Batgirl knew...was that whoever these brutes were they were not Freeze's. Somebody had been waiting, either for Freeze's actions to unfold in order to take advantage of the aftermath chaos, or for anything of note to unfold in order to take advantage of the aftermath chaos. The moment it did plans big and complex enough to steal a Mayor without anyone seeming to notice went into effect. "Babs, something's going on," Steph wanted to expnand, but she had to dodge a razor sharp knife, shatter a stubbornly tough elbow, then launch her armored knee into a skull. "This can't be random. These people are too good. Too well armed. Too uniformed. I'll see if I can find something out if I find the leader, otherwise just be aware something's going on." A quick scan, and the edges seemed safe enough--her cape popped rigid and spread wide to slow her descent into the eighty foot pit with slabs of concrete alternating with stretches of steel ribbed mud where concrete was due to be poured. And right in the middle of it, just where she thought it might be, was a single port-a-potty with it's dialed turned red and reading: Occupied. "-tt-, as if I need you to tell me how to sweep a perimeter, Fat-girl." Despite the seemingly caustic tone, Damian was smiling, or at least smirking as usual, for the first time that night. The idea of finally getting into real action did wonders to erase some of the trauma of the shadowy pit of hedonism Brown had just dragged him through for the sake of information. He was eager enough to get to work that he didn't even wait for the Batmobile to fully set down before getting started, instead taking a running jump out of the opening hatch then snapping his cape out and rolling as he landed to slow his fall into the alley. Moving silent and unseen across the street and through the construction site's jungle of machinery and debris came as naturally to Robin as breathing and it wasn't long before he found his first pair of thugs. Definitely a notch above the usual Gotham riff-raff, better armed and about as big as a set of silverback gorillas, though maybe with a little less intelligence. He leaped from the top of a bulldozer and flipped to land on the shoulders of the nearest one with his full weight, wrapping his legs tight around the big man's neck and going into a twisting roll that would flip the thug down hard while he was still off-balance, consciously forcing himself to modify it slightly so as not to snap any vertebrae. Robin was already reaching into his utility belt for a bird-a-rang as he rolled clear of the first dazed thug but the hesitation it took to avoid killing his first target was enough for the second one to fire off a shot at the Boy Wonder that nearly clipped him. A well-placed bird-a-rang sent the gun flying and a leaping grab that should have gouged out the mook's eyes broke his nose instead, but the gunfire would still alert everyone nearby. Careless...no wonder he left me behind. Let them find me then. I won't be responsible for the consequences. He stalked through the construction site only halfway bothering with stealth, greeting the next thug with a perhaps needlessly flashy flying sidekick that nevertheless resulted in a satisfying snapping noise from the big ape's collarbone as it met his armored boot. His pained screams drew a few more in but they only added up to a broken jaw, a shattered wrist and elbow and, in a potentially slightly petty touch, a fractured pubis. The fact that his cape had a few more bullet holes in it than it should have was of little concern to Damian in the moment, though he should have noticed that things were far too organized for an ordinary criminal to pull off. As things stood he was a little busy dodging a whirring spiked chain, crashing a dump-truck's worth of rubble onto some gunmen and violently returning a knife to its' owner where he was least likely to bleed out but most likely to scream. All punctuated by a chorus of shattering knees and flying teeth naturally. Hesitation in figuring out the last part let a sniper graze him, but all it took were a few flashbangs and some free-running to near-literally feed the man his own gun. Not all of it was entirely efficient and neither Damian's father nor most of his League tutors would've approved, but after the rest of the day the fight did feel extremely satisfying. Once both scans and the lack of shouting guards showed the perimeter to be well and truly cleared, Robin snapped his cape to glider mode and descended down into the pit. In the center of it all was...an occupied port-a-potty? Not in the mood for any stupid games after the night he'd been having, Robin stalked past Batgirl and wrenched the door open... To the sight of a hideously disfigured and hopefully dead mayor of Gotham City, as floodlights suddenly glared blindingly down on all of them. "...shit." Then everything exploded and the world was filled with bullets. "ROBIN!!" Damian Wayne is dead. At least, that was Batgirl's lone thought as she watched in horror as the Boy Wonder begged for his own explosive ending by simply tossing the door open casual as a screen door swinging open on a Saturday morning. She wasn't able to get to him in time to save him from the blast; given she had a full Batsuit on her suit was MUCH MORE explosives resistant given activating the right electro-magnetic 'sheath' mode for the suit--the one that protects mostly from explosions and fire. Despite her current state of panic, training reminded her of her only priority right now: MOVE. A few taps onto her gauntlet and the Batmobile was called in; hovering over the construction site while firing smoke bombs, rubber bullets, and drowning the area in enough light and sound it was as if a giant flashbang had just gone off over the entire site--which, to be fair, was exactly what the Batmobile had been called in to do. To provide enough of a distraction for Batgirl to scoop up Robin, and get in turn scooped up herself by the Batmobile. Stealth mode was unavailable as Steph shoved the throttle all the way forward and began sending the distress call. Halfway to Gotham Heights she was directed to a backup Batcave, where Dr. Leslie Thompkins was waiting. Steph ripped off the cowl as she took up the broken boy in her arms and lifted him out of the Batmobile; Thompkins was already at her elbow, looking Damian Wayne over with a look of concern that even Thompkins couldn't hide for once. "Get him on the bed." So began the three hours of Dr. Thompkins and nurse Batgirl. The kinetic shockwave had done serious damage to Damian's internal organs, but the boy wasn't too far gone. "With Gotham General's medical technology, he may not have made it. But Batman has always had better medical technology than even the best hospitals around. I wish I knew where he got it." "Aliens," Stephanie explained, but Leslie looked at the blonde girl as if she were crazy. "No, really--aliens. Kryptonians, mostly." Leslie scowled, but continued her work without a single pause or rest until Damian's neck was wrapped in bandage to protect the burned skin upon his neck. His face looked like he had the world's worst sunburn, and his hair had been buzzed short since half of it had simply been burnt off from the blast. But the little shit was alive, and would wake up "soon", according to the Doctor, who retreated from the Batcave that looked more like a bunker in the sewers to go clean herself and take a well deserved break. Batgirl would simply sit there next to the hospital bed in the dimly lit room, her focus on her smart phone and the sound of the Boy Wonder's breathing. The breathing to ensure he stayed alive, after all, and the smart phone to get the message out: Mayor's dead. I can't tell if the people we found with the corpse are professional or simply a fanatical street gang; but someone is pulling strings and calling shots. Gotham City is under attack. Cut and dry a message as it was, Stephanie simply had no more energy for any additional details. But after sending it to Bruce, she knew it would get passed around, she knew the collective braintrust of the Cave would go into immediate action. And, at least, that was enough of a comfort to let her fade out of conciousness, curled up in the chair next to the bed, to nap until something or someone stirred her once more.

After the Fries incident, Batwoman spent the better part of the night chasing down the the rest of the the straggling thugs on ice. Why couldn't the cold villains do their thing on a hot summer day? The chill bit down to her bones and left her wanting a long hot shower. Dawn was already approaching by the time she finished stringing up the last of them. "I rounded up the rest of them. GCPD are on the way. I'm heading home. If you need me, you know how to reach me." By the time she was back in her penthouse Kate nearly dropped dead in her bed. She'd be more worried about any tracking devices in her suit if she wasn't sure the Bats already had her all figured out. And she wasn't so sure about this whole team thing, so far she felt like another drone in his army. But she didn't care about that now, all she wanted to do was get some sleep... Unfortunately her beauty sleep was interrupted by an obnoxious notification on her new batsuit. And it took her an irritating amount of time to figure out how to shut it off. But reading the message woke her up like getting ice cold water dumped on her. Was finding out someone was in the hospital ever not alarming? After hearing something about street gangs and an explosion Kate let her imagination run wild, so she was relived to find Steph lying in the chair rather than the hospital bed. She quietly placed a blanket over her and let her sleep a little longer. It was too bad about Damian, but the doctor said he was gonna be alright. Kate still questioned how wise it was to have someone so young involved in all this, but it wasn't her decision to make. When Steph finally woke up Kate greeted her with a hot cup of coffee. "Morning sunshine. Looks like you had quite the night."

Whether it was the being undead or the vigilante lifestyle, Jason couldn't determine just how he could go for what seemed like days without even the slightest bit of bed rest. Sure, his two or so odd days back in Gotham had been quite eventful to say the least, but you'd think a guy who was used to seeing everyday shmos' faces distort into maniacal grins would be able to get some shuteye despite the day's events. Maybe it was because it was only his second night back in the halls of Wayne Manor? Two days wasn't exactly enough time for his contemporaries to accept him back in the fold, and certainly not enough for him to be used to the whole "acceptance" thing. At least he'd taken the time to formally unpack and get a shower, the scent of Gotham wasn't exactly a pleasurable experience. For the time being, the twenty something formerly deceased Boy Wonder was making his way ever so silently to the cave. For how foreboding the Batcave was, Jason found it to be a place of solace whenever he needed to think. He figured that was why Bruce and some of his contemporaries spent effectively their entire waking lives down there. Bruce hadn't exactly reacted well to the news of Damian's mishap, so Jason was effectively alone in the halls of Wayne Manor, since one Selina Kyle (or was it Selina Wayne now?) probably wouldn't want to test the proverbial minefield of dealing with Jason Todd, and for that, Jason was grateful. His first step in the cave, and the lights automatically blasted him with their all too familiar blinding rays. He just needed something to keep his mind occupied, or rather, that's what Jason told himself when he passed the returned R-Cycle to inspect one of Bruce's innumerable Bat-Cycles near the edge of the cave's ramp. He always kept spares, hell, he needed to, considering how often one was exposed to death beams and explosives when they chose to be the protectors of the night. Damian seemed like the type of kid who wouldn't appreciate a stranger messing around with his toys, even if it was for a good reason, and Jason didn't exactly have the patience to start from scratch, and so he began the process of moving the motorcycle to the cave's workshop. Sure, Damian could make the Batmobile fly, but Jason was willing to bet he didn't know where Bruce kept the good stuff. His personal stache was overflowing with materials that would make a mechanic cry if he knew how to properly make parts with them; lightweight titanium, Kryptonian knickknacks, hell even some sort of magical shard from Zatanna. You name it, Batman had it. Jason used the time it took to prepare the bike and fiddle with Bruce's security systems to calculate just how many man-hours it'd take him to complete this little project. Sure, he wasn't starting from scratch, but dismantling and reassembling a motorcycle was tough work, even for a former Boy Wonder. He'd have to build new wheels, mess around with the suspension and such, and maybe paint it if he felt artistic enough. True, it already had all your standard Batman upgrades, but he'd have to at least give it a few new things to mess around with. He sighed to himself when he was finally permitted access into Batman's secret stache, hopefully Bruce and co. could keep a secret for a week or two. "Now, where the hell does Bruce keep the Nth Metal?"

Damian's eyes snapped open at the same time as his hand darted underneath his pillow for a blade or a gun and only found more pillow. From there it took several panicked seconds for him to realize he wasn't in a hidden League of Assassins stronghold or Wayne Manor and a few more to realize he hadn't been kidnapped. During this time he also had to suppress the urge to throw the pillow as a distraction and see if he couldn't move enough to kill at least one of the two figures at his beside before they restrained him. Once he had calmed down sufficiently, he pushed himself into a sitting position with only the slightest hiss to hint at the pain he forced past to do it. The pain was a good sign. There was no desert now, but the explosive had been real enough and even with his Robin suit and what he assumed had been some sort of borderline-regenerative technology he seemed to be covered in first and a few second degree burns everywhere the suit was thinnest and his whole torso felt like he'd been tenderized with a sledgehammer. As soon as he noticed Kate Kane he snatched the cup from her outstretched hand with the sort of reflexive speed that came with a childhood among ninjas and sipped at it, then grimaced just short of choking. Hot coffee was likely not the best beverage for recovering from explosive-induced hospitalization, and even then Damian wasn't actually very fond of coffee. Worse yet it was hardly good coffee, not even in a rustic pedestrian way. "I suppose it's fitting of a pretender like you to anticipate my needs, but next time try to do a more competent job. If I'm going to have to put up with you as Fake-Batwoman AND Brown's girlfriend, you could AT LEAST get my drink preferences right." The lecture had absolutely nothing to do with distracting them from his moments of terrified panic and subsequent embarrassment, after all he was far above any such thing. No, the so-called "Batwoman" just had to learn where she stood in the 'family' hierarchy, that was all. Some thief who stole a name and costume she had only just gotten acknowledged for couldn't be allowed to see him weak, after all. It would take more than some minor thing like being nearly-dead for him to permit that! Besides, he hadn't even brought up how bad the coffee tasted. He also wasn't sure if there was any basis to Kane being Brown's girlfriend, but it was sure to get under Batgirl's skin either way, and somehow NOT barbing her after she'd apparently helicopter'd over him like some imbecile the whole time he was out seemed...wrong. "Now, Brown where's my gear? If I go now I can still get back to the construction site and pick up the case before the trail goes cold and have whoever tried to kill me in a full-body cast by noo-." The fact that he was able to push himself nearly standing and out of the hospital bed as he spoke would have been impressive if it hadn't been cut off by a sound halfway between a puppy whimpering and a fish gasping when he failed at mimicking Cassandra's pain-dampening technique and flopped back against the bed like a ragdoll. "...by dinner then. In a full-body cast by dinner. They'll be eating theirs through a straw."

All was quiet in the hospital room, the only sounds radiating from the ensemble of medical instruments. As Steph stirred awake Kate greeted her with the aroma of a steaming cup of finely brewed coffee. And it wasn't just some Starbucks coffee, it came from a little known cafe tucked away in the backstreets of Gotham. It was the kind of place you hear about rather than see on billboards.

"Your back won't like you very much if you sleep in a chair like that." Kate whispered, referring to the way Steph was curled up in the chair. "I'm glad you're okay. You had me worried there for second. I..." before she could finish Damian woke up at the most opportune moment practically kicking and screaming before snatching the expertly brewed coffee out of her hand.

"I suppose it's fitting of a pretender like you to anticipate my needs, but next time try to do a more competent job. If I'm going to have to put up with you as Fake-Batwoman AND Brown's girlfriend, you could AT LEAST get my drink preferences right."

Kate simply looked to Steph with a look in her eyes that said 'Is this kid serious?' She's seen her share of spoiled brats, both big and small, but this kid was something else. Kate supposed she was meant to be offended, but she just found the boy amusing. The Fake-Batwoman thing was pretty much true, no qualms about that. And the girlfriend thing, if it were true it wouldn't be so bad now would it? Maybe he was just being defensive, in which case she'll be sure not to impose. She was sure he didn't need another someone bossing him around. Casually she reached over and gingerly retrieved the cup of coffee that had just been stolen. "If you drink too much coffee it'll stunt your growth" she joked.

"Now, Brown where's my gear? If I go now I can still get back to the construction site and pick up the case before the trail goes cold and have whoever tried to kill me in a full-body cast by noo-." ... "...by dinner then. In a full-body cast by dinner. They'll be eating theirs through a straw."

"Take it easy there big guy. At least have something to eat" she said, dropping a brown paper bag on his lap with a hearty breakfast burrito inside. "People are already on the case. You're not the only detective in Gotham y'know. By the way, you can call me Kate. 'Fake-Batwoman' is a bit of a mouthful, don't you think?"

Stephanie Brown smiled sleepily at Kate Kane.

And then she lost her mind. She didn't rise from the chair. She didn't hop up, or stand; no, Stephanie Brown was out of the chair so fast and with such force that she'd all but leapt out of it. Stephanie had never really considered herself a violent person, at least, not before seeing just a few of the injustices that occured within Gotham City on a nightly basis. There's only so many times a brand new vigilante like the Spoiler could sneak in darkness, and listen to a woman get raped by mean men, before said new vigilante wanted only to learn how to hurt those mean men without getting herself killed.

Bruce had begun her training, but quickly sent Stephanie over seas for the sort of training Batman simply could not provide. It was O-Sensei who trained her mentally, even metaphysically. Then it was Richard Dragon, then Lady Shiva. By the time Stephanie Brown had returned to Gotham City, her combat capabilities had warped so far ahead of where they'd been that no one seemed to know just how capable a fighter the new Batgirl really was.

Of quickness and speed, Damian Wayne had met his match; before the boy could blink another sulky blink, Stephanie Brown's right hand had taken the injured boy by the throat--and squeezed. The voice that came was dark and heavy and hot, her tone little more than fire and blood, getting quiet instead of louder. The sign of true rage in the Brown family.

"You almost got both of us killed." When Damian tried to break the hold, he'd discover the iron lock of the grip. His legs kicked, but his injured little body was just no match for her. That he was unable to breath, she seemed not to even notice. "If you ever come close to doing it again, I'll put you down and strip your mantle from you myself. For now just shut your mouth...I'm tired of hearing you talk."

The grip broke, and Stephanie Brown turned away from Damian, looking at Kate as if she'd just seen her for the first time. It was only when Steph saw Kate's face...that she seemed to realize just what she'd done. "Yeah," she began, her tone as lifeless and tired as it was when she'd just woken up--before Damian enacted her rage. "It was a bad night."

What had Stephanie silently thanking God was when she walked out of the room, Kate followed. It was an armory room Steph had gone to, from the looks of it; a single white bulb hanging from the dirty concrete roof, all walls and even the floor the same type and shade of old concrete. The walls were lined with metallic lockers. The moment Steph arrived at the first locker she began unlocking the Batsuit she'd slept in, and taking it off.

Only when she was in a teeshirt and shorts did Stephanie accept the cup of coffee originally meant for her, and sip on it as she took a seat on the lone wooden bench in the room. When her big, bright, eyes looked up to Kate...they were filled with only angst. Pain. "I'm sorry. I've never snapped at him before. Him talking to me like that...fine, whatever. Talk is cheap. But talk to you that way? In addition to last night?...I guess I lost it."

Again, her voice seemed a shell of it's normal self, her eyes breaking from Kate's and descending to the ground before her head shook, and Steph sipped at the coffee once more. "Thank you, Kate. There are times I don't feel like I deserve your friendship, like I've dragged you deeper into this Bat-hole....." As sad as she may have sounded, nothing would keep Batgirl from the following joke: "You know, but don't ever let that stop you from bringing me coffee...girl could get used to this."

Despite every emotion in her body, Stephanie's pink lips slipped into the tiniest of smirks.

Given that Damian's throat was probably the worst burnt part of him, when Brown started strangling him halfway-to-death the first thought in his head was the bizarre, absurdly glad notion that at least his windpipe was too constricted for either of the two women to tell how much he was screaming from the pain. It would be bad enough for her to kill him while he was lying weakened in a hospital bed, but Damian would never forgive himself if he died screaming and crying like some pathetic child, even involuntarily.

The second thought that popped into his head around the moment he realized he couldn't get her hands off of his throat was that she could actually kill him right now. This mainly resulted in a lot of kicking and useless, irrational struggling but from little bubble of shock-induced detachment the rest of him was inhabiting he was extremely surprised. It wasn't potentially being killed. The League had raised him in a long tradition of rewarding failure with death even if he was always above it, he practically tempted Drake to try it every day and even Cassandra as he knew her would have killed him for a big enough failure if she were allowed. But from Brown it was almost completely unexpected. The last half of that thought combined with the lecture drove one thing home:

You almost got both of us killed.

For once, something was actually undeniably his fault. Not being choked, he wasn't insane. But as far as the explosion, his injuries and the failure of the mission went there was too little room in the sequence of the day's events for Damian to shift blame or minimize what had happened. He had opened a door when every instinct he had knew it was a trap, due to stubborn recklessness. Both of them had almost died because of it and even though making a game out of taunting Brown was one of the few things he generally felt completely safe doing, she was now mad enough to kill him.

Guilt was a fairly new feeling for Damian. Genuine remorse was even newer.

So after Stephanie Brown said she really would kill him if he ever did anything like that again and let him go, he actually listened and shut his mouth. He had too much to process anyways. Instead he very carefully kept his face and body blank enough to potentially fool Cassandra if he had to and waited until Kane and Brown both left. He looked around then closed his eyes and counted their steps until he was absolutely sure there was no one anywhere near him.

He was Damian Wayne, Son of Batman. He had never cried and never would.

No one would ever see otherwise.

Happy Steph, sad Steph, contemplative Steph, excited Steph, Kate has seen so many sides to Steph but this is the first time she's seen her friend angry. Not upset or mad, but truly blood-boiling vein-popping furious. Whatever happened out there must've been bad, worse than the vague message she got about an explosion and some gangsters. After everything that happened, and not just last night, Steph must be under a lot of pressure for her to storm out like that. Kate's brow furrowed at Damian like she was about to say something, but instead just shook her head in disapproval and chased after Steph.

Kate followed her down to some sort of locker room to find Steph undressing. When she first entered highschool Kate quickly discovered there were a few perks to being queer, such as girl's locker rooms. But with great power comes great responsibility, so when she caught a glimpse of Steph's bareback she pushed her focus elsewhere. She wasn't a perv and didn't want to make Steph feel uncomfortable. Especially if she's heard any of the exaggerated rumors about Kate's nightlife. After Steph's change of outfit, she sat down on the bench next to her. It was so quiet she could almost hear her breathing. Seeing her like this, so despondent and vulnerable, it broke Kate's heart.

"Thank you, Kate. There are times I don't feel like I deserve your friendship, like I've dragged you deeper into this Bat-hole....."

Really, it should be the other way around. Before they met Batwoman had almost completely taken over Kate's life. She still doesn't know whether it was out of some sense of duty or a desire for vengeance over a sister who's memory fades a little more each day. Steph reminded there was a person under Batwoman's mask, reminded her why she donned the mask in the first place.

As sad as she may have sounded, nothing would keep Batgirl from the following joke: "You know, but don't ever let that stop you from bringing me coffee...girl could get used to this."

Was she just... flirting? No, she couldn't be, could she? It was a thought that Kate was cautious to entertain. In her experience the size of the dating pool in Gotham was the same as the number of clean cops. She had an easier time going fist to fist with Killer Croc than finding a girl interested in more than a one night stand. And their friendship wasn't something Kate wanted to risk. Which is why she tried to keep a clean line separating her friendships and her love life. Yet when Steph looks at her with those big blue eyes deeper and more mysterious than the ocean, it was hard to keep her composure. Falling for someone is like gravity, all it takes is a little push. And Kate could feel Steph's cute little smirk send her tumbling over the edge.

"When you guys brought me into the fold, I didn't realize how many of you there were. I used to think it was just me and him, just two nutjobs trying to change this city with our fists. Imagine my surprise when I found out you practically had an army of masked vigilantes. The others, I'm sure they can handle things. After everything that's happened, you deserve to take a break." She paused a moment to bite her tongue, she was rambling too much. "So how about it? Let's take a night off, just you and me. We can do anything you want, just name it."

"There's not usually this many around. It's usually just Batman and Robin and...me. And when I almost got Robin killed..."

Stephanie's head tilted just left of off center, her bright eyes glassing as they stared forward into nothingness. Her mind was preoccupied in that moment with what might have happened in that scenario. And of all the horrible things, only one thing actually escaped her lips and was made audible, even if barely so: "He would have never trusted me again. I almost died, and he kinda lost it. Jason died, and he did lose it. Damian dying?...no, thank you."

Pressure? It was part of it. But rarely did Stephanie get the chance to simply talk about it. Everything had been harder since Alfred's death, losing the one person you could talk to about anything had maybe been the worst part though. That and never getting to taste another Pennyworth grilled cheese special. Kate Kane was someone Steph could talk to...about anything, now. The very thought brought new life into her face and eyes, a relief of cathartic release that put Steph in a new kind of ease.

She was even smiling when she looked up at Kate upon hearing the invitation. The smile was easy, and small, but there was more hidden behind it. An electric current went through her body; head to tippy-toes, so it felt, at least. It was at that very moment that the Cluemaster's daughter put it together. Why the electric current? Why had Kate averted her eyes in such an obvious, awkward sort of way when she'd walked in?...why did it feel like Kate Kane was asking her out?

Then, like a twelve year old, Stephanie Brown blushed. It could have been an innocent invitation, but now putting together every sign from their time together...it read like the sweet guy who was happy to be her friend, but too hesitant to make other feelings known. Not that Stephanie had a lot of experience with that, or boys in general. Or girls.

Her smile grew, unabashed and warm as it could be given the night before. "Sounds good. Meet me at the student center around nine tonight?" Then she rose from her seat and motioned to the door, "I better go talk to him. I'll see you tonight...go get some sleep, yeah?" She paused long enough to enjoy the moment, and Kate Kane, a few moments longer before pushing out the door and losing that smile. Though the warmth hadn't been lost, it was still there her whispered tone when she appeared next to the bed, and the kid.

"I'm so sorry. Please don't ever scare me like that again. Some of us have grown attached...even to a butthead like you." Stephanie kissed her lips faintly at Damian's temple, trying not to smile, or cry, or both. "Now rest while you can, he'll be here soon."

It was a strange feeling; grieving for a murderer. Victor Fries had undoubtedly been such a huge part of Dick’s life. He was the first of the rogue’s that the once boy wonder ever faced, the first that ever nearly killed him! Victor’s humanity was always something that separated from the other psycho’s the bat family had come across, his love for Nora and his goal to cure her. It truly was a great sadness that he would be forever be remembered for the attack on Bruce’s wedding and the murder of Lucius Fox. Poor Lucius. A man of honour whom raised Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, he engraved them all a code of ethics. Sure, Bruce and various other masters taught them martial arts and other skills they use in their battle against crime. It was Lucius however that made the Bat boys into men.

The night had been raught with peril. Dick had only managed to get back to his and Bab’s apartment before he got the notification that Damian had been severely hurt. Things had gone from bad to worse, just like he knew they would. He knew that getting the family together was a stupid idea and look what happened. However, Dick knew this was not the time for finger pointing and blaming Bruce for everything wrong in the world. There would be time for that later. With Damian in good hands and after a long, long talk with his adopted father to try and fix the bridge they had yet to walk across, Dick collapsed in bed next to Barbara for about three hours sleep.

As always, he was up and out of the house as early as his body would let him. Dick’s sunrise free run had become the stuff of legend in bat family lore. The routes were tough, he challenged his body, his athleticism, his agility every day but it was well worth it. No one could move like Dick, no one, not even Bruce. He once brought Jason along during his training days. Jay lasted all of twenty minutes, his body collapsing under the strain. Arriving at Gotham Central park at the crack of dawn, Dick was alone save one person standing in the centre of the grass. Red hair, a slim physique and a scar on the back of her neck which was only visible because her hair was up….wait. He knew that scar. Why did he know that scar? Think Grayson you big idiot. “Raya?”

It was common knowledge that Dick Grayson had a thing for redheads. Barbara Gordon. Starfire. The origin of that thing stood before him now, Raya Vestri, his first love. They were the best of friends growing up within the fantastical colours of Haly’s Circus. Even after Dick was adopted by Bruce, they stayed in contact and those feelings of friendship evolved as their bodies did. She was his first for everything. When the idea of Robin began to completely enthral Dick, he knew he had to cut ties with Raya. So he did and he did completely. This chance encounter was their first meeting in over ten years. “Dick Grayson” She greeted him with the lightest of laughs. “You always were an early bird” She sashayed over to the sweating police officer and smiled. “You look really good. Bigger too” Words didn’t seem to want to leave his throat. “Y..Yeah being a cop will do that. You look amazing, Raya” Placing her hands in her thick coat pocket, she flicked her head back and her hair rolled to her cheek. “Running a circus will do that. Speaking of, I was kind of hoping to see you now I’m back in town” Pulling something from her pocket, she slid it into Dick’s open hand. “We should talk. My number is on the back” Turning on her heels she set off out across the snow to a waiting limo. Dick simply stood frozen, that did not even seem real. He looked at the folded but of paper she had handed him and his eyes narrowed.



A memorial show to his parents? Grayson’s heart began to beat fast. Haly’s had not been seen in Gotham in nearly twenty years and all of sudden now they want to do something in remembrance of that horrible night. Something didn’t feel right. Stuffing the flier in his back pocket, Dick tried to clear his head and resume his run. He arrived home shortly after and was greeted by Barb doing her morning rehab. It was really going well, soon she would no doubt be able to walk completely on her own without crutches. He was so proud. “Hey babe” Barbara greeted him. “Harvey called. You’ve been assigned special duty for the next couple of weeks” Dick took off his sweaty shirt and through it into the dryer. “Yeah? What am I doing?” Babs bit her lip as she stretched and looked at him. “Damn, my man is fine” Dick raised a questioning eyebrow and she laughed it off. “Security. Apparently you and Slam Bradley will be watching over Lincoln March” “Lincoln Who?” “March. COO of March Ventures. They say he might make a run for Mayor at some point” Dick scratched his head and sighed. “Fantastic, another politician. You know sometimes I think Gotham would be better off with Solomon Grundy as mayor”

Bruce had spent a good portion of his evening ransacking half of Gotham, beating up thugs and generally being the king bad ass that he was. Hurting him is one thing, putting his boy in the hospital was another. He had only just returned to the Manor when a familiar sound known only to a select few filled his ears. Walking into the kitchen, Bruce opened a cupboard and pulled out two glasses, filling both with orange juice. He opened the back door and in stepped a very familiar face. “Morning Clark”

“Bruce” Clark Kent dressed down in a black polo shirt and olive slacks was an unusual site to see. He took the orange juice and sat on a stool by the counter top. “Hal told me about Damian. I’m so sorry he’ll be alright though. He’s a Wayne. You boys are tough” Bruce sat down opposite the man of steel and sighed. “Save the pleasantries for Sunday brunch with Diana and Selina, Clark. Why are you here?” It was an odd relationship these two powerful men had. Such a drastic difference in backgrounds, childhoods and philosophies and yet, despite the always slightly antagonistic bantering between them, they were very much the best of friends the other had. “We received a distress call from Shiera. She was off world helping Saint Walker with the rebuilding of Odym and we lost all contact. It’s been quiet for over 48 hours and about 45 minutes ago we finally got a ping from her emergency beacon. We’re heading out now but given what’s transpired these last few days we’d understand if you didn’t want to join us on this” For someone nicknamed the man of steel, Clark never really ever felt like steel when staring into Bruce’s eyes, as strong as he was something inside the dark knight terrified him. “I’m in. Let’s move” Clark and Bruce both got to their feet in quiet understanding and moved to the garden to await a boom tube to open to take them to the watchtower. “We’ll find someone to look out for the kids” Clark joked.

“Not Barry”