Meanwhile, back in Gotham....

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Three shots score the Batman's cape as he twists agilely out of the way of the trio of armor-piercing rounds. The downside of avoiding those rounds is that his dive carries him over the side of the Wayne Memorial Birdge, with some choppy, cold, and unpleasant water a few hundred feet below.

He truly, truly does not want to experience that drop and the bay waters below; his need to prove his toughness simply does not extend that far. A hand raises, a grappling hook rockets upward, and a moment later the fall is halted halfway into his plummet. He let's out a grunt before starting the powered ascent. Above him, the three Falcone thugs trying to kill him a moment earlier open fire once again, and he has to swing under the bridge proper to avoid getting hit. A splash below marks the loss of the grappling gun, but better it than him His arms wrap around a steel girder, eyes closing wearily as he thinks over his next move; above him, the thugs argue about what hit the water and where the Bat went.

The rest period lasts for slightly less than five seconds before Batman crawls over the beam and up the side opposite of the one from which he fell a moment earlier. All three thugs are bent forward, looking at the water and trying to peer under the bridge, making a trio of easy targets. Within a minute of his dive off the side of the bridge, the Falcone heavies are unconscious on the pavement, tied by taser-powered bolas.

Batman calls the GCPD before disappearing into the night once more. Three baddies down, about a zillion left to go.

His job sucks.

Comments

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

Fresh from the Justice League Watchtower, another shadowy figure has joined the Gotham skyline. His path had taken him through most of the city, surveying the damage done by Darkseid. Now it was time to contact the people closest to him, starting with the former protege who had taken up his responsibilities in his absence.

Of course, using the radio would be far too simple - Batman positions himself along Dick's patrol route, high on a building, where only the edge of a wind-blown scalloped cape might catch his eye.

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Batman - or the man acting as Batman - comes to a rest atop a tall building, cape fluttering in the wind. After a moment, the crouch becomes a single-legged kneeling posture, his weight balanced forward on the knee not resting on the rooftop. His head bows.

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

The elder Batman leaps to share the same rooftop as the other, making a silent landing just outside his arc of vision.

"Tag."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

In response, the younger Batman simply wavers a moment, then pitches headlong off the roof, limp.

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

Batman doesn't follow him over that edge - instead, he drops down over the edge around the corner, swinging around to confront the other from a less direct path.

"Dick."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Dick is a half-second from shooting a taser right at the newly arrival's face from the posture he has taken on a shelf right below the rooftop from which he fell. Sometimes gargoyles really are handy.

The taser bounces off the gargoyle supporting Batman the Younger's weight, then tumbles into the blackness of the night below.

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

Bruce extends a gloved hand to his former sidekick, as he approaches, carefully balanced on the narrow ledge below the rooftop.

"It's me, Dick. It's Bruce."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Dick looks at the hand, looks at the man speaking, looks back at the hand and shakes his head.

"Bullshit."

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

"Hh."

That almost - almost - gets a smile.

"Who am I, then? You've been dosed with enough fear gas in your lifetime to know or at least suspect when you're hallucinating. Deathstroke knows your identity, not mine. Ra's is dead. I have the wrong build for Bane, Nygma, or Selina. And Hugo Strange is still in Arkham."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

"Hush," growls the younger man, staring, but his voice shakes. "Red Hood. Doctor Light's conjuring, or Circe's."

His tone implies a fear to hope.

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

"Not Jason's style. Dr. Light doesn't know our names. Circe wouldn't bother."

There's an almost imperceptible nod, though.

"Hush is the only one that would make sense, both with the knowledge and physical build. But then you'd have to ask yourself why, when his deception would inevitably be discovered."

"Do you remember taking an oath, by candlelight, to fight for justice in Gotham City?"

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

He's a kid again. Inside the Batsuit, the younger man on this precarious perch is a boy once more, a boy in tights and elfin boots and ready to take on the world, one bad guy at a time, his hero before him. He reaches to the cowl and tears it off, revealing a bruised, battered, unshaven face covered in blood, sweat and, yes, tears.

"Bruce...." he whispers brokenly.

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

Likewise, the elder Batman pulls back his cowl, revealing a face characterized by exhaustion, and determination, more than anything else. But there's also a smile.

The hands reaches out to help Dick to stand.

"The League found me."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

This time Dick takes the hand in an iron grip, rises and puts the other arm around the taller, brawnier figure of his mentor, his friend, his father. He doesn't speak for a long, long minute.

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

The hug is accepted - and even returned, if a little hesitantly. Genuinely emotional moments have a vulnerability that makes him twitch inside, no matter how heartfelt his sentiment. Bruce breaks the silence, then, to explain.

"Luthor's borrowed powers trapped me in a place like the Phantom Zone. By concentrating, I found I was able to share his senses - and ultimately, I was able to take control for short periods, using my own will to override his own. I made contact with the League when they hit Rann - they were only able to successfully separate me from him a few hours ago."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Yeah. Cough. Ahem.

Dick steps back, clearing his throat, looking away, wiping the moisture from his face. It's all blood and perspiration, right?

Right.

Grinning sheepishly, if unsteadily, the younger man says in a gruff tone, "So how'd it feel to be bald?"

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

"Drafty. But it might be a good look for you."

He claps Dick on the shoulder, still smiling a little.

"I was in there when you pounded him on Oa, by the way."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

The grin gets more sheepish before fading. He rakes his fingers through his dark hair, staring at Bruce with understandable disbelief. "First time since then I didn't wish I'd killed him," he remarks tiredly. "Sorry if you felt that. Well," and the impish smile returns in part, "sort of sorry."

Again Dick gets more sober. "Who knows? I mean, Babs, Tim, Alfred.... Hell, Selina...." He lifts his chin, noting, "She never once lost faith, Bruce. Never once accepted you were gone. And oh, how she fucked up Lex's business life. Like mad. He's going to have a lot of work ahead of him when he gets loose. I'm guessing the JLA has him."

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

He nods.

"They do, but once he's recovered, they're going to have to turn him over to the American authorities, who won't have much to hold him on. Selina.."

Bruce sighs, shaking his head.

"I might've expected her to do that, but she's placed herself in terrible danger. I'm going to have to talk to her, but family comes first. Tim and Alfred deserve to know I'm back before anyone else."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Dick agrees, looking hard and long at Bruce, his head shaking slowly in disbelief. "One day, old man, you're going to go and not come back. But for now...holy shit, it's good to see you."

He pulls the cowl back over his features, adding, "Let's go home before someone starts seeing double Bats."

[gotham-gargoyle.livejournal.com]

"Agreed. And Dick - I'm proud of what you did here. I couldn't have asked for a better guardian of Gotham - I know that you're the type to look at the damage Darkseid did and see only failure, but I see the damage he wasn't able to do."

The cowl is pulled back into place, and he smiles again - being free of Luthor has done wonders for his mood.

"Now, I'll race you home."

He leaps out into the night, firing grappling line and swinging out over the streets.

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Dick gives him a moment's headstart. Doesn't really matter - Bruce is a sneaky bastard who typically wins these contests anyways - but the younger Batman can't leave, not quite, not yet. Not when the whole evening feels like a dream, not when Bruce's comments, as usual, dug right at his deepest feelings and rooted them out...then offered comfort.

Comfort.

Determined not to shed more tears of insane relief, determined to will this dream into reality, he forces a grin onto his worn features and takes off for the Cave, which might, at last, really feel like home.