JLA Watchtower (Archive)

A gunshot wound of any kind is a medical emergency.

Word reaches Leslie quickly. A few moments later, she's at his side, no evidence of having just been woken from a sound sleep anywhere present in her features. Underlying her professionalism though is recognizable concern. Tim may at this very moment be a Bat-Grump but to Leslie, he's also family. That fact that he's still standing is a good sign.

"What happened?" she asks, leading him immediately to an exam room and inspecting him at the same time.

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He's a stoic patient as she tends to the bullet in his arm. Lodged in his shoulder, the armor deflected enough of the projectile's impact to prevent bone from being injured.

"Junkie." he replies tersely.

He adjusts his seating to give her a better view of the arm.

"Should have kept my eyes on him while taking down the dealers." he adds.

There was a time when he would grit his teeth to endure the pain of having a bullet extracted. Leslie might now notice that his expression doesn't flicker in the slightest as she digs.

"There are some new and dangerous designer drugs on the street lately." he comments as he watches her skill.

"Dangerous stuff."

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The manner in which he receives treatment concerns her almost as much the wound itself. It seems like he becomes more and more like Bruce every day. It isn't right that they endure pain as well as they do.

She pauses every so briefly at his last comment. "Any leads?"

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He nods, impassive as he watches her expert stitching techniques.

"Scarecrow is the safe bet, and there is considerable circumstantial evidence to tie him to it as well. There is a complicating layer to it all though. I think we're seeing a power play between conflicting criminal enterprises."

Reaching into his belt, he retrieves a flash drive and places it on the exam table.
"I've been meaning to get this to you. It's a chemical analysis of some of the variants I've found."

His stoic expression turns grim.

"It's designed with the developing neurochemistry of adolescents in mind. Dopamine receptors are targeted, but that's not all. The addictive mechanism does allot of damage. Most users will either end up dying if they keep taking it, but kicking the stuff will require pharmacological assistance in order to survive the withdrawal stage.

I hope it helps if you start seeing some of the addicts showing up at the clinic."

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She doesn't reach immediately for the flash drive. Both her hands are covered in blood and currently dedicated to the task of putting him back together. She does however listen as she works.

"By the time they reach me, it's usually too late." Her tones matches his expression.

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That's been his experience as well, except for the rare occasion where he got lucky.

"Spoiler and I found a high school student ODing on one of the early variants a few weeks ago. They were calling it 'Blur'. We managed to stabilize him long enough for the paramedics to get there. ."

He checks his gauntlet and the flip-out display it conceals, checking police-bands in the area while Leslie works.

"We ended up bringing in Superboy and traced the dealers to a semi-permanent twenty-something rave club called 'Full Tilt'.

We ended up running into Bane. It turns out he's after the dealers too. Seems he didn't like what was happening to the kids either."

Bane remained a source of consideration for Tim. The man wasn't one of the 'good-guys', but he had come down on their side on that issue. He also knew way to much about Tim and Bruce for Robin's comfort. Bane. Damn. Tim knew he wasn't done with that puzzle.

Edited Date: 2011-09-23 11:08 pm (UTC)

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"I have house calls to make tomorrow. While I'm out, I'll speak to a couple people about spreading a warning. If it saves even just one, it'll be worth it."

She's not surprised to hear Bane's name come up. "If you want to speak to Bane, he's right down the hall."

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Surprise....and a bit of alarm.

"He's here???"

He pauses for a second, considering.

"I take it he's not causing trouble then." at least not right now.

"Yeah, I need to talk to him...he's not forcing you on this..is he?"

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His uniform is already bloody. One more hand print is added to it as Leslie plants her palm on his opposite shoulder to halt any forward movement. He may want to talk to Bane but he's not going anywhere until she's done.

"He's not forcing me on anything," she reassure him, unconcerned. "Last time I checked, he was still sleeping off the aftereffects of the fear toxin."

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He can hear the steel unspoken "sit your butt down" in her voice, and relents. A dutiful patient, he's going to stay still while the Doctor sews.

He grudgingly smiles.
The bat-crew, in costume or not, are a strong willed bunch.

"Yes, ma'am." comes the reply, with just a touch of playful sarcasm.

Fear Toxin? Hmmm...

"Any idea on how he was dosed?"

He was guessing it was in connection to the warehouse raid. Robin had lost track of him in the wrap up. It was past time he got the details on that loose end.

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The reply earns him a smile. It's usually a battle to get any of them to stay long enough to be fully treated. Tim has always been the most cooperative of the bunch.

She shakes her head. "He came in chasing a man who he thought to be one Scarecrow's associates. Judging from his behavior, I suspect he'd been dosed considerably earlier."

While she ties off her handiwork and applies the bandage, she tells him about her earlier encounter with Bane and Selina (http://jla-watchtower.livejournal.com/1474311.html).

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Tim's expression goes through several modes: surprise, concern, alarm, consideration, back to concern and then back to the default 'brooding'.

"Bane's becoming an X factor. In theory he's working for the government, a disavowed branch of it, but he's got Federal backing somewhat."
He grimaces.
"He also knows or guesses way to much about Nightwing, Batman and I and who we are for my comfort. I know you'll help anyone who comes through your door and obeys the rules but...be careful with him."

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Needless to say, he can count on it.

"Let me get cleaned up. Then I'll take you back to him."

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Bane was finally starting to get his sense of awareness back. Whatever the doctor had given him helped immensely. He wasn't quite physically fit enough to go chasing after Scarecrow, but at least he could think straight and speak coherently again. Thank God for small favors.

He could hear the doctor speaking to someone. A masculine voive, young, and it sounded familiar.

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Soon after, Robin's silhouette appears at the curtain that hides the bed Bane is resting in.

"Bane." Drake's voice carries caution.
"I'm coming in."

The last thing Tim needs is a freaked out giant jumping at an unexpected visitor. Hopefully he's not gorked out on fear toxin anymore. Even so, Robin is ready to act if needed. Recalling Shiva's recent lessons, he adopts Wusan's combat footing in case he needs to move suddenly. He opens the curtain...

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Bane doesn't move from the bed. "Very well, Robin." He remains relatively still, but makes himself both comfortable and attentive as Tim comes in.

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Ok, good sign so far. He comes into the room. No sudden motions.

"How are you doing?"

It's not so much a solicitation of well being as it is a 'you're not going to go banzai on me are you?' kind of question.

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"As well as can be expected. Dr. Thompkins' efforts have removed the bulk of the toxin's effects from me. What of you? Have you found Crane or his lackeys?"

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"Crane escaped during the fire. Most of his thugs were rounded up by the police."

Robin glances at Bane's chart and winces at what he sees in the toxicology report.

"It looks like there is another trafficking interest that was trying to move in on Scarecrow's operation. I think we're seeing a turf war, and there's a good chance they have deep hooks in the police."

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Bane narrowed his eyes at that.

"Do you know anything of them? What makes you believe they have connections to the police?"

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"Icicle, Brutale, Shrapnel, Mind Dancer.. there's a list of out of towners all working for this new player. We ran into Captain Nazi even. It's sounding like he was being puppeted from the account I received."

He looks at the tox report again. "Your kidneys must really hate you."

Looking back up.
"No solid connection with the police, but some of the algorithms I use to track crime report trends indicated a sudden change in arrest reports recently. Certain police officers are having an upswing in the busts they've been making and their perps are coming in related groups. I think someone is tipping them off in order to eliminate competition. Probably setting them up to be dirty enough to ignore their people when the time comes.

It's a guess, but the numbers are pointing to it."

He frowns. "I haven't identified the ring leaders yet."

Edited Date: 2011-10-27 03:50 pm (UTC)

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"My body and I have had a love-hate relationship for years." Humor? Hard to tell.

He mutters a soft curse in Spanish. "Well that complicates things."

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