Electric Flame

2.4

My brain was going to explode. I was sure of it.

My entire body ached, and the tips of my fingers and toes were still numb. I felt like I was on fire, the carbon monoxide getting to my lungs with each breath. I could barely breathe. Red shadows danced inside my eyelids and desperate murmurs swarmed the room. It was cold, but I was burning up.

I tried to lift my head, but the sudden dizziness pushed me down as my skull slammed back onto the frozen counter, the bang echoing against the metal. "Ow," I whispered as reality came crashing down. The pounding headache persisted.

"(y/n)!" That was definitely Damian. He jumped on me, grabbed my shoulders roughly, and practically shook the sense back into me. "Get up! Get up!"

"Damian, stop." Dick's deep voice rang in my ears as he ripped Damian off of me like a band-aid. "She's still weak from the toxin."

"Toxin?" I asked, rubbing my forehead and propping myself up with an elbow. 

Dick nodded. "Someone--"

"--spiked your drink," Bruce finished, revealing himself from within the shadows. He sat in front of the Batcomputer typing away. "If Luthor's suspicions are the same as mine, then it's safe to assume it was his science experiment." He turned in his chair. "And from the results, his hypothesis was correct."

"What suspicions?" I questioned, extremely confused but mostly because loose thoughts still strayed in my frazzled mind. I was absorbing about half of what he was saying.

"I still have my own tests to run." Bruce shook his head as he skimmed through a white folder. "There were traces of arsenic and sulfur in your system, as well. It's hard to tell which of the three minerals caused this."

"You only listed two, though," I persisted and glanced at Dick, very happy that someone else looked just as flustered as I was.

Alfred lent a hand to help me off the dissection table. "Go get your bags, (y/n)." I didn't realize until now that I had nothing. The League never provided any clothing other than the black robes I wore during my departure. "Alfred, ready a room."

A low and harmonious beeping caught our attention, and Bruce spun back around to face his monitors. Dick rushed to his side.

"How can this happen? One guy? All on his own?" Dick practically yelled, rushing a hand through his jet-black hair. Suddenly, I wished those were my hands. Nerves erupting in my stomach, I shook off the thoughts and concentrated on the video playing. "And I'm just hearing about this now?"

From what I read before returning to Gotham under the League of Shadows, in the last few days, the streets had been a bit clearer, but at a cost. Word is that a new boss was in town under a new title-- one that has been handed through gangs for decades. This guy, who was said to be working in solitary, had somehow managed to take control of all drug rings, kill Black Mask on his own turf, and instill fear in all thugs raking the alleys of Gotham City. Any guy like this was either seriously brave or seriously stupid with a death wish.

"Yes. One guy," Bruce confirmed. "I've been watching him and the surveillance of his moves in the train station for two days. I've heard that voice before, I know it. But every time I get close, he seems to disappear with no traces left behind, wiped off the grid as if he never existed at all." He paused and glared sternly at Dick. "I want the Team out of this for now. Let me handle this." Bruce stood and disappeared behind a wall, shortly returning dressed as a bat.

Realization dawned on Dick, who was also suddenly changed. His eyes grew wide with understanding.

"He bears a resemblance to the original," Batman stated, lifting the cowl over his head and letting his blue eyes pierce through. "Several criminals have utilized this persona."