“Preservation”
Chapter Three
The threat was real and alive, and the words chilled Batman to the core. What Luthor left out was the importance of the message. If Franklin Madison wasn’t here—with Luthor—then he was either with Ra’s or…
He would have to make a trip to Arkham was this was done.
In another flash of glittering light, Luthor disappeared and left Superman and he in the warehouse floor alone with the robot warriors and ninjas. Even Mercy had disappeared.
Batman cursed his under his breath and quickly appraised of the situation, seeing where the weaknesses of the roof were, where the best cover was, and then looked back at the potential casualties.
Grunting, he raced toward the robots. “Superman, get the ninjas out of here!”
“Will you be okay?”
Batman narrowed his eyes and activated the cannon. “I’m never okay.”
The cannon barrel exploded with a burst of green. His laser hit one of the robot’s arms, almost frying it off, but the machine was able to put up a shield to protect it. Narrowing his eyes, Batman dropped the cannon off his shoulder to use the simplest of his gadgets, a batarang, and dove into the middle of the robots. He systemically tore through the first robot, stabbing it in the chest and then tearing his batarang toward the domed lid. As soon as he opened it enough, he leapt over its top as another robot shot. The kryptonite laser would only taser the commander inside, and Batman flung a small bomb at the robot who fired. A second later, the dome blew off and one punch ended that person’s—and robot’s—fight.
Batman spared a glance toward Superman who engaged a few robots of his own, already having dispersed of the ninjas. Batman whirled at the laser firing and dove out of the way, allowing the green laser to tear through a side of a wall, which shattered like glass.
His breath caught in his lungs at the sight.
Three naked bodies hanged from a rafter, blood running from their necks and chests down their legs until they dribbled into a puddle on the ground. They were obviously men, but their identities were lost to their mutilated and maimed bodies. The sight, gruesome and macabre, was almost too much even for the Batman to handle.
Why would Luthor have tortured these men? Who were they?
A blast slammed into his back, and Batman grunted as he crashed hard to the ground. He tossed a bomb back to fire off the cannon, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the robots lunge for a console on the very edge of the room and hit a few buttons before disappearing in a glitter. Batman growled and ran toward console. Sure enough, it was a countdown, most likely to destruction.
“S—we have less than a minute,” Batman yelled. “We need to get these men out.”
Batman watched Superman collect people and fly out at super speed, while he headed into the room. The overwhelming stench of burned flesh and putrid decay met Batman full force. These men—they weren’t. They were boys, had to be by their body masses. Three boys with raven hair.
Oh, God.
Batman lifted a hand toward the eldest one’s face, only for the three bodies to disappear in a swirl of red and blue. That snapped him back into focus, and he immediately sought the computer in the corner of the room. Plugging his handheld into its USB drive, he hit his comm. unit.
“Oracle, download.”
Barbara let out an exasperated sigh. “You never say please.”
“Less than thirty seconds.”
Her voice sharpened. “On it.”
Batman left his device in the computer and saw the vials of blood, obviously taken from the boys’.
“Batman, we’re out of time.”
Superman, Batman ignored, and looked for the files on the desk. He opened it and began to scan.
“Batman—”
“We might need something in here. A few more—”
The hand slipped around his waist before he could stop it, and the next thing he knew, an explosion pounded against his ears. Superman hovered over the fiery warehouse/laboratory as all of Batman’s hopes burned.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” he finally grated.
Superman grabbed onto Batman’s hand and lowered him onto an apartment building not too far away, where he had already dropped the maimed bodies. “I just saved you.”
“We don’t know how much research they’ve done there or how much progress they’ve made—”
“We will find out,” Superman promised. “With those men in custody, we’ll be able to—”
“They are loyal to Ra’s or Luthor. They won’t say anything.”
“You don’t know that. They might…” Superman’s eyes fluttered back to the explosion, but Batman regained their attention when he bent down to the bodies and scrapped away some caked blood and hard tissue.
“You might have just lost the rest of Dick’s life.”
“Franklin Madison wasn’t there, Bruce,” Superman reaffirmed, putting a hand on the father’s shoulder. “We still have hope.”
“So that’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? You don’t think about the consequences of your actions or what could have been prevented.”
“Are you really saying that to me?”
Batman’s fists shook, and he only kept from hitting Superman because he knew he would break his hand. “If not for you, Luthor would never have wanted your powers. He would have never wanted that clone, and he would never have wanted my son for the experiments.”
Superman’s muscles rippled. “Don’t call Conner that.”
“It is what he was.”
“He was my son—or nephew—but not just a clone.”
“Who was grown in a test tube and raised by your parents.”
Superman shook his head, his own muscles rippling. “At least I didn’t fire the very son I’m now trying to save. I took care of my children.”
Batman’s eyes burned, and his voice cut like a sword. “Tonight, I needed to get a look inside that lab. I needed to get more information to find something that could help Dick, and now, I have to go home and tell him he still won’t live to see his twenty-sixth birthday because of you.” Batman turned his back to Superman and started across the rooftop. “I only hope one day you don’t have to face this problem.”
Superman allowed the air between them as he rose into the sky. “You were right before. We’re both guilty for what Luthor has done to your son, but I’m not the one who was the reason for Dick’s participation. I let you blame me for this because I’m your friend, and you need someone to share the burden with you.” He lifted off the roof. “Oh, and Bruce? No matter what you believe, I already have….I already have.”
Batman watched the alien fly to put out the fire and only turned once Oracle’s frightened voice entered his hearing. “Bruce? I just got word from Tim. Dick’s out. He was hit the Scarecrow’s fear toxin.”
Batman spared one more glance toward Superman and ran toward the edge of the roof. “I’m on my way.”
*^*^*
It was his own fault, Dick knew, and like he knew he would be, he was kicking himself as soon as consciousness reclaimed him. His head thundered like he’d been beaten to a pulp, though he knew that hadn’t happened.
…had it?
No, no. He’d been hit by the Scarecrow’s fear toxin, which made him see—
His clouded, frightened blue eyes snapped open at that thought, and he pushed to sit up, though he regretted that action as soon as he began the motion. The world swirled around him, and he only managed to stay upright by the firm hand upon his shoulder.
“You all right?”
Great. He’d come home. Dick opened his eyes to see the cowl-less face of his father and nodded, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “Yeah, I was stupid. I should have been wearing a gas mask.”
He put a hand on the table to stabilize himself before pushing off the edge, and vertigo once more overtook him. Only by the grace of Bruce and an arm around Nightwing’s shoulders did he stay on his feet.
“Easy, Dick. It’ll take a couple hours for the toxin to filter through the bloodstream,” Bruce admonished and once more helped the boy to sit. “Why don’t you relax and sleep it off?”
It was then Dick realized where
they were—not the Batcave but the Justice League satellite infirmary. “Why are
we here? I was in
“I—I just wanted to make sure you were…okay.”
“And ‘okay’ means ‘off planet’? You were spooked. Why?”
Bruce’s eyes never wavered in their stern glare, but he pulled the cowl on a second later. “I have monitor duty. Sleep. We’ll discuss this later.”
Dick sighed and ruffled his hair. He hated having to admit this, but he had no choice, especially considering the circumstances. “Dad, when Crane hit me with the gas, I think…I saw Franklin Madison.”
Batman’s boots snapped to an abrupt halt. Even though he kept his head down, Dick knew his father’s eyes flared with anger.
“It’s perfectly understandable that he scares you after all that has happened.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think I just saw him because of the toxin.” Dick raised his eyes and stared helplessly into Batman’s. “I think he was there.”
Batman wiped his hand and stalked toward the door. “He wasn’t. You know he wasn’t.”
“I’ve been hit with this stuff
enough times to know the difference between nightmares and reality.
“And I know what the fear toxin can do to you.”
“And you know the fear toxin
doesn’t knock someone out.” Dick knew it was a risk, but he pushed off the bed
anyway and somehow managed to stay on his feet by his own power this time.
“Look, you know me. You know I wouldn’t have said this if I didn’t believe it,
so when I say
Batman stood straighter. “Where’s your proof?”
“Other than the fear toxin—”
“—which he might have changed. I’ll check it out, but even if it isn’t, that doesn’t mean you weren’t scared enough to pass out.”
“How many times are we going to round and round with this?” Dick demanded. “I know what I saw—felt, whatever you want to call it—even if you don’t believe me.”
Batman heaved a huge breath and nodded once. “Noted.”
Once the door slid shut, Dick inhaled his own drawled breath and took off his right glove. There, in the form of a little round red blemish, was a puncture wound.
*^*^*
“Depends upon what you’re looking for,” Tim said, dressed in his suit but missing his mask. He leaned his head upon his propped up arm and snatched a piece of pizza from the box on the Batcave’s mainframe. “There’s no gun, let alone a smoking one. The toxin in Dick’s blood is the same one the Scarecrow’s used a thousand times on us.”
Via satellite, even Robin saw the worried lines under Batman’s cowl. “And the results from—”
“Still
waiting. It doesn’t make sense, though. Why would
A few clicks later, Dick’s face popped up on the screen beside Batman’s. “You’re on the other line with him now, aren’t you?”
“Uh, no?” Tim offered with a smile. “Talking to Babs about my outfit. She wants me to wear my old suit now.”
“Liar.”
“Yup.”
“Robin, tell him to go to sleep. We’re not done yet,” Batman interjected, causing Tim to sigh.
“Hey, bro. You ever think of just resting like you’re supposed to? That toxin’s not going to wear off on its own, y’know?”
Dick shook his head. “He’s yelling at you to get me off and asleep, isn’t he?”
“I’m just giving you some brotherly advice.”
“If Nightwing isn’t off the line in five seconds,” Batman warned, “tell him I will strap him down.”
“Tell Bruce that if he doesn’t let me in on what he’s doing, then I’m just going to—”
Hitting a few more buttons, Tim looked at both men. “Tell each other yourselves, okay? I’m done playing telephone.”
Dick’s eyes narrowed. “Why won’t you trust me with this?”
“Robin, check in with the M.P.D. and see if the fire has been contained yet at the scene. Then find anything you can about the warehouse. Who owns it, how Luthor obtained it, what it was supposed to be holding.”
“What did it hold?” Tim asked.
“Ooh, now I’m getting the cold shoulder,” Dick smirked.
Batman’s face almost mirrored his eldest son’s. “Tomorrow, duel with Cassandra.”
Tim’s head slammed into the mainframe, and the pain that radiated from the new bruise was nothing compared to what he would feel tomorrow.
“And no, Nightwing, I haven’t forgotten about you. Get. Some. Rest. Or I will strap you to—where are you?”
Glancing behind him, Nightwing
shrugged as the light wind teased his hair. “
“Then go home. Now or I will send Alfred after you.”
Batman terminated the connection.
Running a hand through his hair, Dick let out a drawled sigh. “Tim, tell me the truth. Why am I being locked out of this? Why won’t he work with me?”
Tim leaned back in the chair and tossed what was left of his slice back in the box. He wouldn’t be hungry for a while. “Because he thinks he’s failing you somehow. Whatever happened tonight in that warehouse was another step back with your disease—or whatever you want to call it, and he doesn’t want to tell you that. So, instead, like he’s done how many other times, he pushes you away until he has better news and is no longer failing you.”
Dick looked away. “You’re delusional.”
“You hope. G’night, bro.”
“Oh, now you’re kicking me off, too, aren’t you?”
“Totally. You need some shut-eye. You look horrible. I swear, you’re starting to look like Ra’s from a certain angle.”
“Shut up.”
“And you have work to do anyway.”
Cocking his head to side, Dick said warily, “…yeah? What kind of work?”
“Saving my ass.” Tim brought his feet up on the mainframe. “Think of someway to get me out of my duel with Cass tomorrow.”
“Oh, now you’re funny.”
*^*^*
Batman stared at the screen for a full minute before his head fell into his hands, and he pushed off his cowl to reveal his distraught face. He hit a few buttons on the computer.
“Did you find anything useful in the files, Barbara?”
“You gave this to me on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked first, her face flushed, her eyes red-rimmed. Her voice quivered. “You didn’t want to watch these yourself.”
The USB hadn’t been the reason for his disconcertion, though now it was. “What was in the files, Barbara? What did Luthor have saved?”
“I think it’s better if you see it yourself.”
Less than five seconds later a surveillance tape popped up on the screen, and for the second time that day, his heart stopped beating. The room was completely white and tiny, like the one he’d seen under his warehouses. Only the operational table and the medical equipment seemed to fit, along with the two people dressed in green scrubs and lab coats. Batman recognized the two people instantly as Franklin Madison and his son, Sean, though Sean obviously hadn’t been a victim of the experiments at this time.
Of course, he knew the third person in the video—a certain black-haired, blue-eyed child. Dick was strapped to the table well, his wrists, his forearms, even his ankles. Unless he had a lock pick, which would have been impossible in his state—naked but for a sheet—he would not be able to escape.
Franklin Madison looked directly at the camera. “Experiment zero-zero-one, operational subject Grayson-Wayne, Richard.”
“Can you call me ‘Dick’?” his son said from the table, his resistance still intact with that bright smile. “Everyone does. Well, not everyone, but most people.”
“Shut up,” Sean said, slamming Dick across the face.
Dick’s eyes blazed, but he kept calm. “That’s one.”
“You keeping count?”
“Oh, yeah, and I will return as many hits as you give me. Count on it.”
By the severity of the threat and the raucous tone in his voice—the tone of the Bat—Sean quieted and went back to sterilizing a syringe.
“Great. If you were, then I could get you to kill me and put me out of my misery.”
“Trust me—”
With that, he took the syringe from his son’s hand and pierced Dick’s skin. Dick at first simply stared up at the ceiling, like he was trying to be anywhere but there, but as the doctor began to extract blood and forced an IV into Dick’s arm, the boy’s face flushed, his eyes screwed shut, and his body began to buck.
“Grab his head!”
Dick’s eyes shot open, and though his eyes remained blue, they practically glowed with an ethereal glint. His strong front crumpled, and he screamed.
Batman’s eyes diverted from the screen for only a second before he once more forced himself his watch.
Like the first time he heard the boy scream—when his parents were falling from the trapeze—Bruce knew he would never be able to sleep again without his son’s shrieks of fear and agony.
*^*^*
The lights were still on at the Langstrom’s office, like a lighthouse directing a boat into shore. Nightwing swung onto the fire escape and stopped to see the woman sitting at the computer. She typed a few keys here and there, squinting through her glasses at the information on the screen. Sipping her coffee absently, she sighed and ruffled her blonde hair as if trying to find the answer to an unknown question. Perhaps she was.
Slowing easing up the window, Nightwing entered silently. “Dr. Langstrom?”
The woman jumped, and her coffee cup clanged to the floor. “God, don’t do that! I get enough of it already with your father coming in and out of here every few days.”
“Sorry, Doctor,” he said apologetically and meant it. He hadn’t meant to scare her. It was just tradition. “I—I had a run-in with Dr. Madison today, and I wanted—”
“—the results of the test?” She sank back onto her stool. “I just e-mailed them to your brother.”
“Wait.” Nightwing shook his head and leaned back against the windowsill. Why were his legs suddenly weak? “What test?”
“Your father sent me a sample of your blood today. Actually, it’s good you came here. I wanted to ask you how you’re feeling, but Batman said you were indisposed.” Standing, she pore him a cup of water and handed it to him. “Are you okay?”
“Other than the flying…” Nightwing shrugged and accepted the mug, but didn’t drink. He didn’t think he could keep it down. “Doctor, for what reason did Bruce say he sent you my blood?”
“He said you had a run-in with Dr. Madison and had something pricked.” Her hand went to his hair and pushed back a motherly ministration. “Are you all right, kiddo?”
Nightwing took a deep breath and stood, resting his cup on the desk. “I will be. Thanks again for all your help with this.”
“It’s the least I can do after everything your family has done for mine.”
A tiny smile formed on Nightwing’s lips, which Francine outdid with a wide grin. An understanding formed between them.
“Now, why don’t we get you something stronger?” Francine broached, taking the cup and dumping the water out the open window. She turned her back, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip out. “Jack Daniels, perhaps? How about Canadian Whiskey—oh, shoot. You’re gone, aren’t you?
Nighwing
smirked as he climbed the escape to the top of the building and shot a line. He
swung toward
Nightwing shook his head. What was Bruce doing, shutting him out like this? It couldn’t have been what Tim said. When he came back, Bruce said he would be there for him this time…unless it was that bad. Just how long did he have before…
The thought was swiped from his mind as soon as he heard the high heel click. “Hello, Talia. You are a hard woman to get in contact with.”
“So I’ve heard, Richard. How are you feeling, considering…?”
“I can’t fly.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Dr.
Madison studied the sample of your blood. He says there isn’t much time before
even he cannot help you.” She came to stand next to him and overlook
It was cold enough to snow, not rain.
“At one time, this place could have been ours—your father’s and mine.”
Nightwing never glanced at her, though out of the corner of his eyes he saw her black suit that accented all the places he shouldn’t look and the black cloak that drifted off her shoulders. “I think under different circumstances and on another Earth, that might have been possible.”
“It would be redundant of me to point out that you are now biologically my brother.”
“So, if you married my father that would also make Bruce my brother-in-law? Okay, I say we end that part of the conversation now.”
She nodded once. “Fair enough. Why did you seek me, Richard?”
“Why did you seek me? I saw you at the mall five months ago, and I’m guessing this—” He dipped into his trench coat and extracted a sparkling blue crystal. “—is a present from you. I want to know what game you’re playing.”
“I do not follow.”
A smirk crossed his face. “Of course not. Robin’s looking up that warehouse Batman went to today with Superman. He’ll find out Luthor brought it from you, not your father. In fact, your father probably has never even met Luthor, but weren’t you CEO of LexCorp for a while? Huh. It doesn’t take a protégé trained by Batman to think you might have something to do with my predicament.”
“Very good, gypsy.”
She used the term to get under his skin, but he wouldn’t let her. Not this time. “And then there is this. It’s the same crystal Conner Kent, Superboy, was given by Luthor, and you found it to show me what should have happened during the Crisis. Why?”
She raised her chin but didn’t answer.
“And then there’s Jason’s disappearance. Supposed death. Where he is, Talia? What have you done with him?”
A cold laugh seeped into the winter night’s air. “What makes you think I’ve done anything with him?”
Nightwing finally turned to see her and narrowed his eyes. “You’re threatened by us, aren’t you? If I or Jason or Tim weren’t here, then you think you could get him to your side. Barbara and Cassandra aren’t his children like we are. Alfred would never deprive Bruce of happiness with the mother of his child and Damian. So, you’re systemically eliminating us, and by framing your father, you think Bruce will come to your side and possibly even kill him for killing me—even if he’s in this body. After all, you’ve killed your father once before, haven’t you?”
Talia never met his eyes until now, and a soft smile crept into them. She touched the side of his cheek, caressing it as she would her own child’s. The feeling unsettled Nightwing, who would have taken a step back if not for the twenty-story drop.
“You are worthy of your father’s praise and perhaps my father’s unwanted attention, for he would have taken you for his own devices if not for me. However, none of that matters now. You may try to stop me, brother, but you will fail. Your father will fail, and when my father finally fails, Bruce and I will rule all that remains.”
Now Nightwing jumped backwards and flipped onto a different slither of metal. “You’re sick, lady. He’ll never come to your side if you do all you say you want to. He’ll fight you to the end.”
“Only if he knows of my plan, which he will not, will he?” Talia brought her cloak about her body and glanced down at the streets below. “You want him to be happy, Richard. That is all you have ever wanted, and you know what will make him the happiest. His family to be together, his true family, of which you are now included.”
“Until you give me to your father.”
Talia shrugged and pivoted as if on a balance beam. “In every war, there must be casualties. Even The Bible calls for the sacrifice of the Son.”
“Only one, not three.”
“Perhaps it will take only one.”
Nightwing narrowed his eyes, and he once more looked over the city. Talia was right Once the rain began to fall, the buildings and their majestic lights blurred, making him unable to read the wording on even the brightest of them all.
As she disappeared into the shadows, his strangled voice called after her. “…Wait.”
To Be Continued…