Marla F. Fair
Slade Wilson quickly released his grip on his son, uncomfortable with the memory of another mans hand at his boys throat, and waited while the tousled head turned to face him. Unexpectedly he found a smile touching his lips. While not what he had expected ~ or wanted, if he was to be honest with himself ~ Joe had grown to be quite a man. One with his own sense of right and wrong. One who walked his own path.
A path far different from his.
"Joe."
Jericho tilted his head and signed, Father. What are you doing here?
Slades white eyebrows rose beneath the mask. So much for the tender reunion.
"Pleased to see you too."
The mutes hands flew in anger, almost too fast for his father to follow. Why are you here? Tell me. I thought you were in Africa. Why have you returned? The graceful hands momentarily encompassed the burned warehouse and the exploded crate, then spoke again. What is your part in all of this?
Wilson regarded his son warily. The boy was agitated, excited scared. What did that mean? Still, he answered truthfully, "I have a contract to fulfill."
Jericho frowned and signed angrily, How could you do this? You know what Koriandr means to me. And Dick. We are friends. Dick is the closest thing to a brother I have had. Grant fit your mold, walked in your footsteps; he and I were never close. The mute paused and met his fathers steel blue eyes. You made that impossible. Father, I promise I will stand between you and any harm you plan for those he loves.
Jerichos feet were planted firmly on the ground, his wide green eyes open and seemingly unguarded. Still, Slade knew his seeming innocence was well played, and that at any second the boy could shift his focus so that his corporeal body would disintegrate and he would enter his fathers form, taking control. In order to prove he had nothing to hide, Slade didn't look away. Besides, the boys choice of words puzzled him. Those he loved?
"Joey, I didn't ~ "
Jericho started to argue, his hands raised to form the words when Nightwing's voice cut through the thick air, desperation tingeing it. "Jericho! Come here!"
Glancing over his shoulder, Jericho could see his friend standing under the skylight, the severed half of a Bat-line in his hand. He turned back to his father, but where Slade had been, only empty shadows greeted him. Torn, he started to return to Nightwing's side, but as he did, a familiar voice floated down to him from somewhere above.
"Joe," he said quietly, crouching just out of sight on the top of a stack of crates dripping water, "I know you have no reason to trust me, but there is more to this than you know. I tried to call you earlier before I started on this course, but you weren't there and so." He paused, certain he couldn't explain himself in the brief time allowed, "Just be careful. I don't know about those he loves, but Grayson is in danger and I cant help if you expose me."
Jericho lifted his eyes to the darkness and signed.
"There's no time to explain what I mean, and I'm doing this because I am your father and as different as we are, I do value what is important to you. I am doing this for you."
Jericho signed his disbelief.
"I'm telling you the truth. You must believe me. Joe, " Slade paused, his voice growing softer, "Joe, I love you." And with that, the man who was the Terminator slipped into the darkness and was gone.
Truth.
Nightwing called again, urgency in his voice and Jericho moved into the light, his heart breaking. All of his life he had valued the truth above all. It was a part of what separated him from his mercenary mother, from a father who killed for a living, who relished doing other peoples dirty work; and now, for the sake of a friend who would never understand, every action, every word had become a lie.
As Jericho crossed to the his friends side, the strange nature of his fathers words at last struck home. Grayson was in danger? Grayson? Meaning Dick and not the Batman?
Whatever did that mean?
************ She could barely make him out where he lay feebly testing his restraints. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, she could see that his height was wrong as well as his costume ~ black instead of deep blue with no trace of yellow ~ though in truth there was more chest than costume showing, and the cape and cowl were gone. The Batman lay before her, his secret exposed, his body broken and bound; blood slowly dripping from his veins to puddle on the floor below him. And yet she knew, even so, that his mind was a whirl ceaselessly devising strategies, exploring every possible avenue of escape. Even though his utility belt with its array of tools lay across the room, even though he was bound to a spare metal table literally yards away from anything he could get his hands on ~ anything which might offer a glimmer of hope ~ still she knew he would never admit defeat. She bit her lower lip suddenly feeling like a little girl again, and then she gasped as she realized why. In a curious way the resolute crimefighter reminded her of her own father so far away on her home planet of Tamaran. King Myandr had made curious choices but had never given up trying to save his people. When everyone else had abandoned hope, he had held on to it for them, working for a time when they could live in peace even if it meant sacrificing one of his own. Koriandr herself.
Suddenly she became aware of a pair of ice blue eyes regarding her and glanced up to catch him unawares. If it hadn't been so dark she might have sworn the expression that fleetingly registered on his handsome face was one of regret. A split second later he looked away, resting his eyes instead on the utility belt that was so near and yet so far away.
Shifting her torso to release some of the tension on her arms which were trapped and held above her in some sort of stasis field, she spoke his name, breaking the silence. "Batman."
His body tensed and then he replied without looking at her. "Princess."
A frown marred her perfect forehead. No name. Just Princess. As though she wasn't a person but an office. "My name is Koriandr," she offered quietly.
He was silent a minute, testing his bonds. "Yes."
She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. "XHal," she breathed. How did Dick put up with him?
"What is your condition?" he asked abruptly, his voice pitched low and devoid of concern.
Did he mean how was she? How she felt or what? "I'm all right. I wasn't hurt. The current he had wired to the crate just knocked me out, I ~"
"I can see you are all right. This isn't a time for pleasantries." The words were harsh, bitten off. "Can you call on your powers?"
Koriandr growled low in her throat. "Thanks for the concern," she thought. "Bastard." Unfortunately, the only fire she felt in her veins was that of her temper rising. "No. I am restrained," she said aloud, "this field is dampening what power I still have." Which wasn't much. After hours in a dark box and all the energy she had expended in her futile escape attempt, she was drained. Glaring hard at the dark-haired man who lay helpless before her, she realized it was probably just as well.
"Dic~ Nightwing will come," she asserted boldly, laying claim. He should, after all, be on the trail by now if Joey had done his part ~ even if she hadn't been able to get word to him as they had agreed. Unfortunately Joey wouldn't be expecting any real danger and that worried her. Still, Dick would find her. He always did.
Unexpectedly the Batmans head snapped towards her, his eyes wide. For just a second real fear kissed them and then the mask was in place again.
"What? Why would Nightwing come? I trailed you from the cave. He has no way of knowing where we are unless" His eyes narrowed. "What hair-brained scheme were you thinking of hatching? Why did you ask me to meet you near the cove?"
His pale skin gleamed in the ambient light thrown by the machine that held her. She could see that he was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. She knew he was probably feverish and on the edge of consciousness, but she felt rage overcome her usually compassionate nature. "I" She faltered for a moment beneath his intense gaze, but then finding herself, lifted her head and squared her shoulders against his obvious disdain. "I intended to ask you vanish so that Nightwing could hunt for you and finding you, save you and himself. We were going to tell him there was a contract on your life. He needs victories. He needs. Ever since Brother Blood, he's been." She paused, meeting blue eyes which were eagle sharp. "You wouldn't have agreed to meet me if you hadn't seen it. He's lost faith in himself. He doesn't think he can ever measure up to ~" She hesitated again, at a loss for words, "I thought ~"
"You didn't think," he stated coldly, his breath coming in hard gasps. "Even if
~ if ~ I had agreed, which I wouldn't have, Nightwing would have seen through your charade in a second. I trained him well. Your amateurish deception wouldn't have fooled him for a moment." The Batman paused, seeming to relax, "So he wont be coming."
If she could have stamped her foot she would have. "That shows how little you know him! Joey will make certain he's on our trail. This isn't where we were supposed to be, but hell find us. I know he will." She took a deep breath and pulled against her restraints, visibly paling with the effort. You better hope he does. You are in no condition to save us and I cant break free. And from the looks of you, he'd better hurry."
The Batman flinched, straining his hands against the metal cuffs. He was silent for a moment and then whispered, "It would be better if you weren't here."
Koriandrs eyes widened and her nostrils flared. "Of all the unkind, cruel things you could say! Whatever is the matter with you! Don't you know how to feel? Do you not have one caring, giving bone in that physically perfect frame of yours? Would you rather be alone? Do you want to die alone?"
The Batman laid his head back and took a deep breath. When he spoke it was slowly and quietly, but with an air of resignation. Something she had not expected from him.
"Princess, I would prefer to die alone if die I must. I would think you would understand that. I do not want you to die, nor do I want Nightwing my ward to die, and that is precisely what will happen if he comes looking for you or me. He knows I can take care of myself, but you." He looked at her and held her eyes, his own barely masking the pain, "Even though you are capable of looking out for yourself he wont be able to stop himself. Such is the price of love."
She grew quiet, realizing he spoke from experience. Suddenly she remembered, he had had a family too. One that had been ripped from him, even as she had been ripped from her own.
"While you were unconscious our host spent a good deal of time asking me questions to which he already knew the answers. He took delight in expressing in some detail what his purpose was in capturing you, and considered it a bonus that I happened to fall into his hands. Did you ever see him?"
Koriandr was silent a moment and then answered, "No. In the darkness, I thought he was you."
The Batman hesitated and then said, "That was the plan of the man who captured you. He had intercepted your transmission, the one you intended Nightwing to hear. He was listening in, watching and waiting."
"For what?"
"A chance." He sighed, shifting his back and shoulders as best he could, glancing about again for some small hope, for some avenue of escape. "You were never his target. To the man who engineered all of this, you were just insurance in case his other scheme failed."
"Scheme. What scheme?"
The Batman hesitated, fixing the alien princess with an amused eye. "Do you
understand the Earth concept of irony?"
The tall Tamaranean frowned. "What? Of course I do."
"Consider this then. You had planned to make Nightwing think there was a contract on my life. Well, there is a contract. But not on me."
Her golden skin chilled perceptibly and she shuddered. "You mean.?"
"If Nightwing shows up here as he surely will. he's a dead man."
Jericho was nervous and that made Nightwing nervous. The tall mute kept glancing over his shoulder and starting at shadows. It had made for an uneasy journey from the warehouse where they had found not only Bruces broken and singed bat-line, but remnants of Kory's long red hair twisted in the wreckage of a wooden crate split asunder from a powerful internal explosion. The trail had been ~ at most ~ an hour old when they taken up the chase, following the tire tracks of a heavily laden vehicle to the secluded area outside of Gotham which had once been the city's own version of Silicon Valley. There they found a silver van recklessly abandoned in the parking lot of one of several shabby high-rises.. Recklessly or arrogantly, Nightwing wasn't certain which. The only thing he was certain of was that it didn't belong. The businesses here were closed. The buildings empty. Victims of an undesired corporate takeover. Still, he knew why their quarry had chosen this particular spot. Wayne Tech had installed the security system. State of the art. Impenetrable. Impenetrable that was to all but the few who knew the access codes.
A wicked smile lit his handsome face.
Bruce always installed a master code that allowed him to over-ride any of the security systems Wayne Corporation installed in his own or any one else's properties. Not exactly Hoyle, but legitimate in their line of business. And Dick knew the code. Still as he moved forward, he couldn't shake the sense that whoever had planned this was expecting them ~ inviting them in fact. Holding Jericho back with a gloved hand, he took time to think, pulling the other man back into the shelter of a thicket of man-high cat-tails.
Nightwing's own detection equipment wired into his suit assured him there were warm bodies inside, though just how many and of what type seemed to be obscured by the buildings complex security net. Without a word he pointed to a small device that poked out of the ground near them, and waving Joey forward, proceeded to disable the main perimeter shield. Shortly after that, upon reaching the side of the building, he trained his eyes on the rooftop and shot the grappling hook high into the air, watching as it wrapped itself about a bit of metal grating. Then, silent as a shade, he walked the wall only to step into the shadows as he arrived on the rooftop. Quickly, he began to retract the night-line to keep it out of view.
"You know, Grayson, I gave you credit for being brighter than this."
Nightwing pivoted to find the Terminator watching him, one hand on his hip, the other holding a particularly nasty looking weapon His own hand flew to his weapons cache, but as it did, Wilson leveled the gun at his chest and fired. Back-flipping through the air instantly, the crime-fighter moved out of its path ~ almost. A small dart barely grazed his temple, sending just enough poison into his system to make him groggy. Stumbling, he landed on his knees and fell with his hands against the hot roof. His head was spinning. Wilson moved up behind him and placed the barrel of the weapon against the back of his neck.
"I said this went against my better nature." The Terminator started to pull the trigger when to his surprise a long-legged figure clothed in magenta and deep blue sprung from the body of his intended victim to grab the gun and force him to the ground.
"Joe! No!" He shouted as the boy aimed a blow at his neck, intending to render him unconscious. "You don't know what you're doing. "I'm here to ~" The sentence went unfinished as the Slade Wilson fell silent to the rooftop, his weapon clattering coldly beside him. Jericho stared at his father a moment and then moved to his Nightwing's side and helped him to his feet.
"Thanks, Joe." Nightwing massaged his temple, looking from the fallen man to his friend. "Joe, I'm sorry."
Joe Wilson eyed his father once again where he lay, all too aware that he had just tried to kill his friend.
Then he signed.
So am I.
************ "But who is he?"
The Batman grimaced. "That depends." He paused, drew a couple of deep breaths and then said unexpectedly, "I think I'm ready now. Princess, I need you to do two things for me."
"Yes" she said hesitantly.
"First, be quiet." As she bristled he added quickly, "I've been drugged and my head isn't totally clear yet. I think I have my wits about me now and can work my way out of these cuffs, but I need to concentrate."
"Oh. Okay."
"Plus, I need you to watch for our host. He comes in that door over there." He indicated the entrance to her left with his head. "He's about due. Its been almost an hour."
"Since."
The Batmans eyes narrowed. "Since the last time he questioned me. Now, if you would."
She bit her lip and trained her eyes on the door, grimacing as she heard joints pop and bones crunch as Dicks mentor worked his hands through the metal cuffs using a technique Dick had told her about once, dislocating bones to make his hands more narrow and pliable. Moments later the Batman was sitting up on the table, though he was trembling and looked even more pale than before. His muscular chest was rising and falling as he labored to remain alert and capable of action. From her position, it seemed he had gained little. His legs were still anchored to the medical bed, and somehow she suspected those bones were not quite so pliable. As if sensing her skepticism, he slowly turned his dark head toward her and asked, "Princess?"
"Yes."
"Do you have to have sunlight to regain your power?"
She frowned. Right now that seemed as much a limitation as Garths constant need for water. She hated feeling helpless. "For full strength, yes. But even light would help. Or if you could get these," she strained against her bonds, "things off of me, I'm sure I would still have more than enough power to tear our host in two."
He sat massaging his stiff wrists for a moment, weighing her words. "I don't accept killing."
"Even if it means Dicks life?" she countered quickly.
He met her eyes, his own steel. "Even then. Dick understands."
"I don't."
Reaching toward the leg of his costume, he began to unravel a thin colorless wire from within the material, wrapping it inch by inch about his battered hands. His mouth was a thin line. His jaw set. "Princess," he asked suddenly in a quiet intense way, "have you ever watched someone you love die?"
Koriandr closed her eyes, remembering the thousands she had seen tortured and maimed, destroyed without thought at the hands of the Gordanians Remembering the death gasps of those she had killed with her own hands. There had been sorrow there, but joy as well as she liberated those they oppressed. But someone she loved? There had been Franklin Anger flooded her being again as she remembered that pain, and then she thought, what if it had been Dick?
A cold chill froze her blood. "I have seen much death," she said at last.
"Yes. I know. You have endured a great deal and I understand your need to" He paused, rephrasing what he had been about to say, " Your desire to see them pay. But how is it you decide who lives and who dies?"
"There are those who are evil," she answered, "and others who are good"
"This man," he said, shifting with a grunt to where he could reach his other leg, "the one who took you. You would kill him because he is evil and he threatens Nightwing?"
"Yes." With every ounce of her being, she whispered, "Yes. I love him."
"And did you ever think maybe he has a lover a wife? Even, children perhaps What of them? Are they evil? Do they deserve to suffer?"
"I" She hesitated, unsure of where he was going with this. "He is still evil."
"Yes. And so are you." When she opened her mouth to protest he added softly, "So am I. Within each of us is the capacity ~ given enough reason ~ to kill for what we want, to kill to protect our own, to kill without reason." Now he was bending whatever he had taken from the fabric of the other leg, fashioning it into a hook and attaching it to the cord. "I knew that if I started killing I would never stop. Years ago, I denied the beast. I will not kill, even if it means losing what is dear to me. I will not be judge and jury. I am not God.
"And neither are you."
A minute passed, and then two. Finally when she spoke, it was softly and with care. "It was easier on Tamaran."
He nodded briefly. "It could be easy here. The fact that it isn't, Koriandr, shows how much you've grown."
************ Joe had been really quiet since they had confronted his father. Dick knew the name of that. It was shame. He had tried to be business as usual as they bound and gagged Slade and left him on the rooftop out of sight, but it was hard to pretend not to be effected when the man who had tried to kill you was one of your best friends fathers. One who most likely had kidnapped and maybe killed your own father. He shook his head, sweat flying. No, Bruce was okay. Bruce was always okay.
He waved to Joey as he stood and took a second to lean back against the building. The drug Slade had hit him with was wearing off, but it had left him a little shaky. And uneasy. It might have been his imagination, but Wilson had actually looked frightened as they walked away. And it wasn't often a man like the Terminator showed fear.
A short time later as they worked their way through the upper floors of the abandoned building, he sought to process everything that had happened. Obviously he had been set up, at least in as far as Bruces disappearance and his subsequent hunt for him went. Kory had been involved and Joey, so he had pretty much ruled out one or the other of them being under someone's control and decided that this was something they had agreed on. His faith in them and Joes subsequent actions ruled out anything evil on their part. So they had to be doing it for some purpose ~ though try as he might to discern it, that purpose still eluded him. Then again, he had to remember Kory was involved, so logic probably didn't play the largest part. Instead, he had to think with his heart. Something Bruce had taught him to avoid.
Wilson though Wilson was a wild card. If there was no contract, no plot to kill Bruce, then why was he here? And why had he tried to kill him or at the very least, subdue him? They had parted months before with no particular ill will on either side, but then, the Terminator was a hired killer. Maybe there was a contract, just not on Bruce. As he peered around the corner of another hallway and signaled Joe to follow, the proverbial light bulb went off in his head. How could he have missed it? Somehow he must be the intended target. That had to be it.
He met Joeys eyes and forced a smile, nodding him on. Still, it didn't add up. The look on Wilsons face had not been that of a thwarted killer, but a desperate man. And where in all of this was Bruce? And why did it seem Kory was with him? The evidence he had found at the warehouse suggested that the two of them had been there, probably together. They might have been talking, but even so ~ why there? And who could have been powerful enough to subdue Kory with her star-power and the Batman, the master of hand to hand combat and last-second saves?
And if whoever it was had been powerful enough to overtake those two. What chance did he have?
Pausing just outside the open elevator shaft he intended to shimmy down, he took a deep breath and released it purposefully. "There you go again, Grayson."
Jericho questioned him with his eyes and hands.
Nightwing grinned sheepishly, he hadn't realized he had spoken out loud. "Just exorcising some of Bloods demons." The growing sober he added, "Joey, will you talk to me?"
His friend met his eyes briefly and then looked to the ground.
Nightwing reached out and with a gloved hand, raised his head so the other man was forced to face him. "Will you tell me the truth? Is Kory here? I need to know."
Jericho shrugged. I don't know. I'm sorry, Dick, I was wrong to have lied to you.
"Lied?"
It is just that Koriandr was so worried. He paused, drawing a breath, and when he spoke again it was with a rueful smile. She can be very persuasive."
Dick nodded, understanding. "Tell me about it ~ "
We thought we could help. We didn't mean to ~"
Unexpectedly a woman's scream rent the still dusty air of the darkened complex, startling them both, her familiar voice pitched impossibly high.
"Kory!" Nightwing cried, and in a flash, he was gone.
Several stories below the Batman stood free of his restraints, staring at tender bleeding flesh singed black. After freeing himself from the restraints of the medical bed, he had attempted to release the Tamaranean Princess from the web of wires and metal strips she was trapped in; unfortunately his tampering had set off some sort of hidden trap, for the minute he had touched her, the tall golden woman had lit up like neon sign, glowing scarlet red, and then with a blood-curdling scream had slumped unconscious ~ or worse ~ before him. The complicated apparatus to which she was attached had also sparked and then fallen silent, apparently shorted out. Realizing their captor could not help but notice the display and would most likely appear at any moment, he glanced about for a place of concealment, finally settling on the vent behind her wrack of torture. It was too obvious a choice except for the fact that the average man of his build would not have been able to fit into it, but he had learned long ago how to bend and constrict his muscles until his over six foot frame would fit snugly inside the smallest spaces. Hopefully their captor would dismiss it out of hand. Still, before he ducked inside, he would take a moment to deliberately pry open the window sealed shut on the opposite side of the room, leaving it slightly askew, counting on a quick perusal of the room to show that as his means of escape.
Moments later, as predicted, the tall man entered the room, stopping as the Batman knew he would by the empty metal bed. Several seconds later he crossed to the alien princess, lingering there, perhaps to adjust something on her prison ~ or reset the trap. Soon a familiar hum began to fill the air again, but this time the sound of it was weak ~ nothing but a shadow of its former self. In the narrow dark space, as the man who had taken them lingered nearby, he clasped his injured hands to his chest, biting his lip as tears threatened to spill down his stubbled cheeks now that the shock had begun to wear off. That had been quite an electrical jolt. Even at half strength, if Dick tried to hold her or tear her free if she was dead.
The Batman took a deep breath and sought to steady his nerves. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he started to panic.
************ Nearby Jericho halted a desperate Nightwing, one hand on his friends shoulders. It is a trap, he signed, his great green eyes wide with concern, You know that
I know, the crimefighter signed back, they were too close for words, meant for me.
Why? Who? Do you know?
Nightwing shook his dark head. He hesitated, but he had to ask. Do you?
Jericho paled visibly. No. We only intended to give you a riddle to solve. To restore your
self-confidence. To give back what Blood had taken. Even though you have been filled with doubt, we have always known who you are.
So he had been right. "God love you, Kory," he thought. For him, she had gone into the lions den, asking the Batman for a favor. He grinned despite the danger. "Greater love hath no woman" he mused out loud.
What?
Never mind. He looked at the long corridor before him. At its end, out of a partially opened door, a stream of red-orange radiance spilled into the hallway from within reminding him of Kory's starbolts. He knew she was somewhere behind it. And he was betting Bruce was there to. Now, what to do? I have to think.
The Batman listened intently, following the muffled footsteps of the man who had captured them as he moved about the room deliberately, either checking or making preparations. His reaction to his own disappearance had been curious. He had not seemed surprised or disturbed at all, as though all was going according to plan. Somehow, that didn't make Bruce himself feel any better. The only good thing so far ~ other than the fact that his position had gone undetected ~ was that when the man had returned to the Princess side, she had moaned. Uncomfortable as he was with what she represented, he didn't want her dead. Deep in his heart, he might wish her back on her own planet Might fear what her involvement with his ward would bring. But he had no desire to watch Dick go through another tragic parting. Losing his parents violently had been enough.
It was more than enough for anyone.
Shifting his muscles, he slowed his breathing even further, trying to rest and regain some of the strength taken from him by the Princess starbolts and their captors subsequent interrogations. It was obvious the man was an expert at what he did. He was skilled and it seemed, subtly evil. It would not be a simple thing to take him out.
And then there was the wild card. His presence made the equation even more difficult. Still, he would have to leave that to fate.
A grim smile crossed his handsome face as he lapsed into a semi-conscious state, biding his time.
Too bad he didn't believe in it.
************ Nightwing worked his way down the corridor, moving along the shadowed edge of the walls with grace, his keen senses aware of every shift in the subdued light, each hint of noise. His breathing was regular, calm; any fear or anxiety in check. This was what he had been trained for: stealth, caution action. Somewhere ahead someone needed him. In this case someone close to him. And what he could do for them could be done by few others. Pausing just outside a heavy metal door, listening intently, he wondered suddenly how he could have ever doubted himself. Maybe, like Joey had suggested, that was the only thing Blood had done to him. Planted a seed of doubt that he had watered with his own self-absorbed nature into a voracious man-eating plant.
Steeling his muscles, drawing strength from the inner source Bruce had taught him to connect with, he readied himself; prepared to roll into the room, fists and feet flying. Before he could move, a familiar voice spoke, its sinister tones enfolding him, wrapping about his well-muscled form seeking to draw the strength from it.
"Welcome, Mr. Grayson. I have been waiting for this moment for a very long time."
Jericho had disagreed, but he had done what his friend asked. He had wanted to enter his Nightwing's strong frame and go with him into the thick of battle, but Dick had charged him with a different job.
Arriving on the rooftop, he realized he was already too late.
His father was gone.
Nightwing paused just within the doorway, his eyes rapidly adjusting to the diffused lighting, his entire being suddenly focused on the form of the woman he loved where it hung crucified. The device that held her had a familiar feel to it, and as he advanced on her, his heart pounding and his breath coming in rapid bursts, his mind began to flash back unbidden to hours of endless torment and pain. He knew this man. For a while, at least, he had been his personal devil.
Stopping just short of Koriandr, noting with relief that her chest was rising and falling, if somewhat shallowly, he threatened, "f you've hurt her, I swear Ill "
"Hurting her was never my intention ~ though I did enjoy the few hours we shared." The tall man shifted in the darkness that masked him, but his words smiled with a sickening sweetness, "She is quite strong and supple. I am surprised she is satisfied with a weakling like you."
Nightwing bristled but didn't take the bait. He remained calm and rooted to the spot, his eyes taking in everything in the room ~ including the empty medical bed with its shattered bonds and bloody residue. "A weakling able to withstand what passed for fun in Zandia for days on end." His voice trailed off as the visions fought for prominence once again.
"Yes, but the question remains: in what condition did you emerge?" The man moved into the light thrown by Kory's pulsing bonds. He was tall. Taller than Bruce and cloaked in black. His face was covered. His hands gloved. But the voice. The voice he knew. Quietly he asked, "Are you sure you are quite sane?"
The crime-fighter grimaced. "More sane than you."
The man hesitated, moving only to lay his hand aside a small panel where a light had begun to blink steadily. "Are you quite certain of that? Can you ever again be certain that what you are saying, what you do indeed, what you think has not been planted by me?"
Dick exhaled, long and slow. He had been right. It was the Confessor.
Deep within the hot dusty ventilation shaft the Batman shifted, trying to stretch his muscles in case his former partner needed his help. He could hear Dicks voice and knew he was buying time as he had taught him, feeling out his enemy, thinking through each and every option before him. Still, the woman's life hung in the balance, that might throw him. Nightwing might need help and stuck in here he was in no condition to offer it.
Cautiously he shifted his weight, reaching toward the basket-weave grille that opened into the room two doors down from where they had been held, when unexpectedly a solid metal panel descended locking him in. He pivoted quickly, intending to back-track, but before he could a second panel slid shut behind him near the place where he had entered, trapping him within a narrow coffin-shaped area that was rapidly running out of air.
On top of the building Jericho hesitated uncertainly, unsure of his course. Nightwing had given him orders: Release his father ~ an action he had questioned but intended to obey ~ and then to begin to search for the Batman. Dick had explained that as long as he was uncertain of both Kory and his guardians location, his hands were tied. And there was no reason to believe they would be held together. But his father had already worked his way loose and vanished before he arrived, and now he had a decision to make. Should he begin to search by himself or warn Nightwing that his father was free and perhaps gunning for him?
Fearing trouble, Jericho left the roof and began to work his way steadily toward the corridor he had left Dick in.
************ "Let her go and Ill do whatever you want."
The Confessor hugged the darkness and watched without speaking as Nightwing reached out and took Koriandrs face in his hands. There was no shock, no sudden burst of electricity; no reaction other than the tears that streamed down the young mans face as he beheld the one he loved. "Kory. Kory, can you hear me?" He ran his hands along her shoulders, touching her arms and chest, briefly holding her hand as he called her again. The tall alien murmured at his touch, sensing his presence, but her eyes remained closed. "Kory Kory, honey look at me."
"I am afraid your guardians meddling gave her quite a jolt. He shouldn't have tried to free her, but then that is what you heroic types do best, isn't it? Screw up."
Nightwing turned, his hands balled into fists. He almost screamed, but at the last moment he got hold of himself, and remembering Bruces training, dropped his voice to a low menacing whisper. "What do you want? Isn't it enough that for more years than I care to remember you turned my life into a living hell? Oh, you did Bloods work well. You messed with my mind; made me doubt just about everything I've ever known: My abilities. My detective skills. My love for Bruce Oh God, for Kory." He paused, aware that he was trembling. "What do you want from me?"
The man moved toward him, his red and white uniform glimpsed beneath the dark cloak. As he drew near, Nightwing could see that his accustomed mask was not in place, though the darkness still hid his features. With a jolt he realized he had never seen the mans real face.
"Enough? Is it enough? Was it enough that I interrogated thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of souls for my master, all with great success. Complete success! Or was it enough that I dedicated myself body and soul to the task? Was it enough that I sold my soul to him; lived for him, breathed only when he bade me do so and worshipped groveling at his feet? Was it enough?" He stepped closer, into the light thrown by Kory's restraints and ripped aside the cowl that masked his features revealing a hideous countenance, disfigured, pocked and diseased. One that had ~ perhaps ~ once been a handsome face. It was hard to tell as so little of it remained. Through the one eye which had not melted into the putrid flesh, he fixed Nightwing with a look of pure hate.
"Was it enough? No! Because of you! Because you would not ~ could not ~ be broken. Because of you, I was sent to the pits. Given to the masters pets. Acid and venom ate away my flesh and my earthly life until I had nothing left to sustain me as I rotted in hell but the vision of what I would do to you when I escaped.
"By Bloods Holy head, I hate you."
Nightwing loosed Kory's hand and physically backed away from the mans venomous attack. His voice faltered, "Blood did this to you because of me?"
"No one withstood my methods. None escaped. No one had defied him before."
"But I didn't defy him." Dick was shaking now. His own anger boiling to the surface. "He used me! Possessed me! Stole a part of my life I will never have back. !" As he spoke Nightwing moved, positioning himself between Kory and the madman. In a defeated voice he admitted, "He won."
"No." The Confessors voice broke and fell, until it rang with regret, "You will never know. Part of him was shaken. You could never have truly been controlled. Drugged Yes. Manipulated. Yes. But controlled? Every time everything he tried, you overcame. Even though I had been replaced and another stood in my stead as his Confessor, I knew and Blood knew. You were the victor. In the end, drugging you into a stupor was his only choice." He paused and some of the venom returned to his voice, "You destroyed him. And it is for my Lord that I have brought you here to make you pay at last. For him and for what you have done to me. You will confess your sin of rebellion against him and you will break before you die!"
Nightwing drew a deep breath and shuddered. He watched as the former Confessor laid hold of a long silver tube and raised it, pointing it at his chest. He knew what it was from experience and knew the deadly fire it contained. He had felt its touch before at Bloods palace. Tensed, awaiting the moment when he would trigger the device, he almost felt pity for his tormentor. The man was mad. Totally insane. Possessed by and obsessed with another madman now long dead. Almost. But any pity he felt was swallowed by the reality of the pain he had inflicted, the torment he had put thousands of others like himself through, leaving them wasted, racked with guilt and shame, or worse. The Confessors face might have been twisted, but it was his soul that was corrupted beyond redemption. Suddenly he laughed, realizing he was no longer trembling. Blood had been afraid of him. Who could have imagined? Suddenly, the prison gates were open, the light poured in and he knew he was utterly and finally free.
The tube aimed at his chest was beginning to power up, the Confessors fingers were moving and with more joy and life than he had felt in a long time, he sprang to the side and cried out, "Kory now!"
Behind him the aliens hand glowed a pale pink, showing but a shadow of her starbolts full strength. When Dick had caressed her, her eyes had opened enough to see him palm a small tool which he had then placed in her trembling hand. Using it to free herself as he stood between her and their tormentor, she had concentrated, drawing all of her remaining strength into one powerful blast which she now let fly to meet the oncoming electrical flash of the Confessors rod. The two met near the end of the rod, and the resulting explosion propelled him to the ground, smoke rising from his voluminous robes.
Nightwing landed softly and whirled to find a familiar fire dancing in his lovers eyes, though they were kissed as well with fatigue and pain. A brilliant white smile slashed the deep golden tan of her skin.
"That felt really, really good."
He shook his head and standing on tiptoe, planted a kiss on her full lips as he freed her other hand.
"Savage."
Falling into his arms, spent, she whispered, "And you love every minute of it."
As Dick allowed her to fall to the floor, still supporting her weight, he looked up to find Joey entering the room. He signaled him over. "Joe, take her out into the sunlight where she can gather some strength." He caught Kory's eye as she began to protest, "I have to hunt for Bruce."
"He escaped," she said between slow breaths. "I don't know where he went. That thing exploded and I went out. He might not be here at all."
"He wouldn't have left you, Kory. He has to be here. If its true he escaped then he must be trapped or hurt or heed be here right now. Now you go with Joe. You need to go see a doctor. Let Joe take you to STAR." He kissed her again and lifted her to her feet.
"Dick, no"
"Please," he whispered as she began to protest, kissing her lips lightly, "for me? Ill be fine. I just need to find Bruce."
She glanced at the unconscious man and growled. "On my planet what he did would deserve death."
He squeezed her hand. "Then thank God were not on your planet. He was used, like me, by Brother Blood. You cant damn him for that."
Starfire held her breath for a heartbeat considering his words which so echoed those she had heard before. Then she said, "If there is a God of your people, Dick. I will leave the damning to him." She brushed his forehead with her fingers and leaned heavily on Jericho. "Don't be long."
He nodded. "I wont."
After they left he stood in the center of the room, his hands on his hips, thinking. One glance at the Confessor told him the man was still unconscious, though he knew it would not be prudent to delay tying him up. He was just reaching for a cord when the sound of a monitor coming to life startled him, making him look up above the empty metal cot. He had noticed the screen there when he first came in, but it had been black. Now it was alive, and on it was the image of a man slumped, his black hair dank and dripping. His hands were limp at his side and his breathing rapid and shallow as though he was slowly suffocating.
It was Bruce.
Nightwing took a step toward the screen and realized instantly that he and the Confessor were no longer alone. Before he could turn around a dart struck his neck and he fell silently to the ground.
"That's better." The Terminator crossed the room, resting his foot on the fallen crime-fighters side. "Now, Grayson well play this out my way."
Outside of the building Koriandr tried to stand on her own but swooned to the ground, too weak to stand. Still, her thoughts were not for herself. "Joey, you have to go back in and help. I'm okay. I don't need to go to a hospital. Just let me sit here while you go inside and Ill." She lifted a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, moaned slightly. "Ill just " Without another word, she pitched over backward onto the ground.
Torn, Joey stayed by her side, using his Titans communicator to alert someone to their position and call for them to come pick them up.
He glanced back at the building, but knew where his duty lay. Dick could take care of himself.
If only he knew where his father was.
Nightwing awoke to find himself strapped into the apparatus Koriandr had vacated. Once again it hummed, holding his arms mercilessly tight, stretching already tired muscles upward. His legs were strapped down and a concentrated beam of light was aimed at his forehead. He recognized the position from his time at Bloods temple and knew what was coming. A cold sweat broke out over his whole frame in spite of his new-found self-confidence. This time there would be no tampering, no drugs. This time the end would only bring death.
He would never be controlled by an outside force again.
It took him a moment to focus his eyes as he opened them. When he did, he saw at first what he took to be a single form, but then the blur divided, creating two distinct images. The Confessor stood, his hand on the controls. Behind him, half-hidden by the shadows, waited another more familiar form. Slade Wilson, the Terminator
"W- what are you doing here, Wilson?" he asked through dry lips, his head still muddled. "Did Jo ~ Did Jericho set you free?"
The man who had worked for Brother Blood turned to Wilson, his free hand dropping towards yet another weapon. "What is this? Wilson?""
"Kids delirious. His partner came up top to check my bonds. I overpowered him. Left him for dead." Wilsons eyes flashed beneath white bangs, focused on Nightwing's. "Put up a hell of fight, though."
Squinting against the light burrowing into this forehead and the headache pounding through his brain, Nightwing tried to read Slades face. Had he guessed right after all? Certainly he hadn't harmed Joey.
"He's a Titan," he said through tight lips.
Wilson held his eyes. "That he is. That he is."
The Confessor reached up to intensify the light. "Soon, Mr. Grayson, you will not have the energy to speak.
Unexpectedly Slades hand closed on his, halting the motion. The Confessors
twisted face registered surprise. "What is this?"
"Pay me and lets be done with it." Wilson nodded toward Nightwing and
scowled. "I don't need to watch this kid be tortured to death. It offends my
sensibilities."
"No stomach for it?" The Confessor struggled to pull his hand free.
"I will finish with you when I am ready."
Wilsons grip tightened. "Now. Vie fulfilled my end of the bargain. He's here
and there is no chance of escape."
Dick winced. What was this? "Bargain?" he asked quietly.
But Slade wasn't listening. "Where's the statue? I've delivered, now you had better do the same."
The other mans broken and distorted visage turned to face him, the one good eye focusing even as liquid dripped at its corner. They stared at one another and suddenly he backed down. Something in Wilsons smile had changed his mind. "I have it here. Watch him."
Slade glanced at the young man, suspended in a nest of metal and tubing, "I have no intention of doing anything else."
Dicks head was spinning. Apparently Wilson had accepted a contract on him. He didn't know why, but that surprised him. He had always felt ~ even though their paths had first crossed when Slade was fulfilling a contract his older son Grant had taken on the Titans, to kill them ~ he had always felt that Wilson was a man of some integrity. Apparently, he had been wrong. He had been sold out for silver or gold. Apparently Slade was no better than any other petty thief.
"Wilson, I wouldn't have expected this of you."
"Always expect the unexpected, kid" the white-haired man affirmed, a grin flashing across his tanned skin, "that's my motto." And faster than thought he whirled, his weapon out of its holster and fired before Dick could even blink. Seconds later the Confessor lay smoking on the ground.
Wilson reached up and turned off the light that blinded his sons friend and then flashed another smile. "Should have been his." Without hesitating he began to unfasten the bindings that held Nightwing fast.
Weak and disoriented, the young crimefighter staggered to his feet, holding his head in his hands. Wilson moved closer, reaching out for him and at that moment Nightwing fairly exploded into action, physically pinning the taller man to the wall, forcing the weapon from his hand.
The Terminator laughed, his head inches from his adversaries. "Now is that the way you were taught to say thank you? I think your guardian would say your manners were sadly lacking."
"What is this all about, Wilson?" Nightwing asked, shoving him hard. "You tell me and tell me now. Bruce is still missing. Kory is hurt, and I don't even know if what you said about Joey is true or not. What the hell are you up to?"
"You can let him go, Nightw ~ Dick." A deep sonorous voice spoke from the open door behind him and without letting go of Slade, he turned his head to see the Batman, uncowled, walking slowly into the room. He was pale, his skin grey and clammy, but otherwise he seemed to be all right. "The princess is on her way to Star Labs and your friend, Joe, went with her. He seemed quite healthy."
"B- Bruce?"
Slade caught the hesitation. "No secrets among friends."Nightwings grip tightened. "That still doesn't explain ~"
"Tell him, Bruce."
The Batman winced at the sound of his secret identity on lips other than those he had told, but he knew there was no pretending with this man. He had done a great deal of research on him upon learning of his attempt on the lives of the Titans and the addition of his mute son to their ranks. He looked after his own. Glancing at Dick he said, "Wilson freed me."
Nightwing frowned, glancing at the monitor. The pale man lingered there still, sweating and dying.
"The image is a continuous feed. I rigged it minutes before Wilson set me free."
"But then why didn't you ~" The Batman leaned against the table where he had been held captive hours before. "It took me a few moments to recover. Besides, you didn't need me. You did fine on your own. And as for Wilson." He looked at the grim white-haired man waiting patiently in his wards grasp, watching, evaluating everything he said and did. "I knew what game he was playing from the beginning."
Dick released his grip and stepped back. "Well then, you had better explain it to me." He looked Wilson in the eye and asked, "You did take a contract on my life?"
Wilson shrugged. "Yes." To kill me?"
"To bring you to this man and see that you didn't escape alive. In return he was to pay me approximately ten million in stolen artwork, the chief portion of which was to be a certain statue of a golden predator his boss had favored. It was smuggled out before the fall of the church. This Confessor escaped during the fall. He was in the dungeons."
"Nursing his hatred of me."
"You had broken him, Dick, like you thought he had you." The Batman walked to his wards side and placed a hand briefly on his shoulder. "He couldn't continue in his work afterward. He had failed and learned to doubt himself. Finally he realized he had to eliminate you in order to eliminate that sense of failure."
"How do you know about this?"
"I did some checking. After the princess message she left for you in Sal's name"
"How did you Oh, Alfred."
Batman smiled, grimly. "After that I did some checking. I found Slade was in the area and that he was keeping company with this man." He glanced at the corpse and the smile faded. "You didn't have to kill him, Wilson."
"I didn't have to let you live."
Nightwing held up his hands. "Hey, you two. Were on the same side here" He glanced at the Batmans grim face and noticed Slades hand on his weapon, "I think."
Bruce frowned but proceeded. "I overheard their conversation and surmised that Wilson here was leading the other man on for purposes of his own. The next day I went to meet the princess but Wilson had already gotten to her ~"
"You kidnapped Kory? Why?" I had to get you here somehow, didn't I?" Wilson shifted his hand away from the gun but kept it close. "A contract is a contract. She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."
"I should ~"
"Dick."
It was the voice of reason and he didn't want to listen to it. He did anyway. He lowered his fist and sighed. "Is she all right?"
Wilson cocked his head. "I did what I could for her. I left her first prison under the skylight without his knowledge, knowing she would power up and escape, reasoning that even her capture and subsequent escape would put you on the trail that would end here, with him. Unfortunately while I was tailing you, he rigged the box. It shot her through with electricity and rendered her unconscious, plus netting a bat who was lurking a little too close to the light for his own good."
"I was trying to track her down." Bruce countered. "I knew Slade had taken her but could only suppose it was to lure you to him. I had heard him speak of this contract and knew he was using the trap to catch the hunter."
"Slime-faced creep, I knew he'd double-cross me. I was counting on it."
Dick leaned against the table confused. "Would someone like to put all of this into a language I can understand."
Wilson looked at the Batman but he shook his dark head and moved into the shadows. "Your show."
Wilson pulled up a stool and sat on it. "Some months ago I was contacted by someone calling themselves Connor Esser. I was one of about five mercenaries he contacted. The rest were assassins."
Nightwing's eyebrows rose.
"Semantics. Anyway, I found out the contract was on you, Grayson. He wanted your hide. Wintergreen was the one who pointed out the loophole that allowed me to take it"
"Which was." The wording. Deliver you to him. Make certain you don't escape alive. It didn't really say I was to kill you. At least, not the way I read it."
"And so you took a contract on my life? Why? Did you even think about what Joey would feel?"
"That's just it, kid. That's all I thought about." He paused, seeking the eyes of the Batman where he lingered in the dark. "He's my son. I couldn't hurt him. I never would."
He hesitated and then continued on in a lighter tone. "I knew that if I took the contract no one else would. I had control. Otherwise Grayson you might have been very dead by now."
"I can handle myself." Against Ras Al Ghuls thugs? Against Chesire? I don't think so."
Dick glanced at the man laying at the Terminators feet. "They would have demanded payment up front."
"So do I. Normally."
Nightwing was silent so Wilson went on. "I watched as long as I could to see that nothing happened to either your girlfriend or the Bat here, but then I had to go up and catch you before you stumbled in here with both fists blazing. I tried to warn you on the roof, remember?"
"Yeah. That's when I was certain you were on our side That is, until you showed up in here. Then I had my doubts."
"You trained this kid too well," Slade remarked casually, "he had me down in seconds. I couldn't say a word. Though I worked my way free before Joe showed up again. Poor kid, he didn't quite know what to do. I watched him come back in. Glad to hear he's okay."
"He didn't trust you, you know." Dick said quietly.
"After today, kid, neither should you. I respect you, Grayson, and I appreciate all you've done for Joe, but consider us even." He smiled and headed for the door. "No more Mr. Nice Guy."
Batman stood in his way, his tall well-muscled frame backlit by the open door. "There is still the matter of the man you murdered."
Slade Wilson shifted his weapon and opened his hands wide. "Look, Bats, you've been baked like a Lobster and lost a lot of fluid. I'm not certain you could take me on a good day. Take your son home and be grateful has alive. Leave the scum to rot as they deserve."
The Batman glanced at Dick, his emotions as usual unreadable, and then he stepped aside. "Another day, then.":
Terminator inclined his head and started for the door. "And Grayson"
"What?" He stood and took a step toward the other man.
"Tell Joe, in spite of everything, that I love him.
Batman watched him leave and then turned to his former partner, his eyes slightly misty. "I'm sure he knows."
************ That night, after he had made certain Koriandr was resting peacefully at Star, Dick returned to the manor. He was surprised to find Alfred had already gone to bed, having left a light supper in the refrigerator and a note telling him that Master Bruce was in the study. It was Bruces accustomed habit to be in the cave at this time and the fact that he wasn't indicated that something was either wrong or amiss. Grabbing a sandwich, he headed for the book-infested nook they had shared so often when he was a young boy and opened the door unannounced, knowing Bruce would hear him coming.
He hadn't. Startled, his former guardian looked up a little sheepishly and snapped shut the volume he had been perusing.
"Dick," he said shifting. "I didn't hear you come in. How is Koriandr?"
Dick slid into the chair opposite his mentor and quickly swallowed the bite he had taken. "She's doing fine. Mostly exhausted. They want her to stay a day or two though and she told me to get out and go get some rest." As he spoke his eyes went to the book Bruce was holding and he realize with a start that it was a picture album. He couldn't make out which one, but it was definitely one of the ones from the top shelf. Glancing up, he could see the hole it had left when taken from its usual spot. "I hope its okay that I came back here."
Bruces blue eyes narrowed, "You're always welcome here, Dick. This is your home."
His former wards head ducked as he placed the sandwich on the brass tray Alfred had precognitively known to leave on the table. "Yeah"
Silence fell between them. Neither spoke for several minutes and then Bruce deliberately folded his hands on top of the album and said, "No one could take you place, you know."
Dicks eyebrows hit his bangs. "What? I. "
"With the Titans, I mean." He rose and laid the volume down, locking his fingers behind his back. "I know you've had doubts about your leadership abilities since Zandia, even before I think Donna spoke to Jay."
And Kory spoke to you, he thought. "Bruce" It was hard to admit, but he had to admit it to someone, even after everything that the Confessor had said about Blood being afraid of him, "He broke me. I wasn't strong enough. I know now that that's not the end of everything, I did survive, but."
Bruce stopped near him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone can be broken, Dick."
The young man hesitated, almost uncomfortable with the touch. "Not you," he said.
The man who was the Batman paused, his eyes looking out the window, his mind far away. "Even me. If not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, the day after that Everyone can break. But not everyone can mend, and find in a new and deeper strength in the healing." He hesitated and then asked, "Did I ever tell you about Deacon Blackfire?"
Dick shook his head, and then he remembered. "Wasn't that the case with Jay, not too long ago? The one with the madman who almost claimed the city? He had a cult, hundreds of followers ."
"A cult I was initiated into it. If not for Jay." Dick felt the older man shudder. "Lets just say, the illusion of complete control is nothing more than that: an illusion. A man never knows what he is made of until he is bent to the breaking point. You did a good job, with Blood, with the Titans With me."
Dick swallowed hard and reached for his guardians hand. "Thank you, Bruce."
The other man allowed the touch to linger for a moment and then he moved off, heading for the door. Once there he stopped, his face in the shadows. "I meant what I said."
Dick pivoted. "Bruce?"
"No one could take your place, not with the Titans not with me. Goodnight, Dick."
" Night, Bruce."
He sat stunned for some minutes in silence and then reached across to grab the album that Bruce had been looking through, expecting it to be one of the old ones of himself as a child, filled with images of them hunting and fishing together. But it wasn't. Instead the images were older. The page earmarked showed an elegant man dressed in a suit and a small boy of eight or nine sitting on his knee, a copy of The Mask of Zorro clenched in his fine young hands..
Father and son.
The End