A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaand it's the dreaded exam week! So I maaaaaaaaaaaaaaay be a little late in updating next week? It depends, I guess. Anyways, I hope you'll all be a little bit more patient with me. Of course, I may just surprise myself and actually update on time next time. This announcement is just a precaution haha.
Anyways, on with the chapter!
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Artemis jolted awake, awoken from a restless sleep by another rather vivid nightmare. She groaned tiredly and sat up, careful not to wake the sleeping Martian beside her.
The safehouse, while luxurious, was nowhere near big enough to house nine people, so they all had to squeeze into the four bedrooms available. Artemis had roomed with M'gann, while the three boys slept in another room. The other two bedrooms were occupied by the Wayne brothers.
Seeing as she wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep again and deciding that she was well-rested enough, Artemis got out of the comfy bed, the bed springs creaking softly from under her.
"Artemis?" M'gann stirred in her sleep. Artemis cursed under her breath.
"Sorry, M'gann. Just go back to bed," Artemis tried to tell her friend, but M'gann was already sitting up and rubbing her eyes sleepily.
"What time is it?" M'gann yawned, stretching like a cat.
Artemis glanced at the blinking red numbers on the digital clock by their bedside. "9.37 in the morning." She glanced at her friend who was still seated on the bed. "I'm going to the kitchen. Wanna come with?"
M'gann smiled brightly at her. "Sure!" She sprung up from the bed into the air and floated behind Artemis to the kitchen.
Walking into the kitchen, her feet softly padding on the cool marble floor, the first thing Artemis saw when she entered the kitchen was the Wayne brothers seated around the small dining table, having a seemingly serious discussion. She furrowed her eyebrows. Weren't they supposed to be resting?
The Waynes seemed to be in the middle of some sort of debate, though it wasn't like their usual loud and messy arguments. They seemed to be discussing something very important, if their solemn expressions and serious tones were anything to go by, but their hushed whispers were too incoherent for Artemis to be able make out their words. Dick was leaning forward in his seat, murmuring urgently to his brothers and making the occasional hand gesture to accompany his words. Jason had his elbows propped up on the table, listening intently to what his elder brother was saying, occasionally tossing in a word or two. Tim was nodding his head, often interjecting and adding on to Dick's words with a few quiet whispers of his own. Damian had his arms crossed and his head cocked to the side, his face turned towards his brothers, clearly contemplative. He shook his head at them once and uttered a few words to them in a low voice, to which both Tim and Dick slowly nodded their heads to, their expressions slightly troubled. Jason spoke up then, clearly giving a suggestion. Tim narrowed his eyebrows contemplatively, muttering under his breath. Damian nodded his head slightly. The brothers continued in this peculiar fashion for a few more minutes, their faces unusually serious and calculating, all traces of levity gone. Their eyes held a steely glint in them and a dangerous edge in their focused gazes. For the first time, Artemis could see the brilliant minds and the sharp wit behind their peculiarity. They were clearly strategizing.
She sighed internally. She was getting really tired of this. How many personalities do these guys have, damn it?! Just stick with one already! It's not that hard! Although, she supposed having an insane psycho sending massive criminal armies to hunt you down is a legitimate reason for that. Still, the unpredictable changes in personalities unnerved her. She wished they'd stop, but she knew that her wish was in vain. The boys were always full of surprises, whether it be good or bad. They'd managed to save them before, so she shouldn't be complaining.
At the moment, she was more curious about what they were saying, though it didn't take a genius to figure out that it must have something to do with the Joker and their current predicament.
Before she could decide whether to turn around and go back to her room or alert the boys to M'gann's and her presence, Damian spoke up without looking at her, "Good, you are awake. Are the others?"
"Um, no," Artemis stammered, a little shocked at the fact that the boys had noticed their arrival despite being absorbed in their own engaging conversation. M'gann hovered beside her, uncertain.
"Wake them up. We require their presence. We shall brief you on the plan we have come up with," the kid told her, his tone dead serious.
"O-okay." Artemis was pretty unsettled, so leaving the kitchen was a huge relief. She headed to her male teammates' room to rouse them, feeling a slight prick of anxiety regarding the events that shall soon be taking place that day.
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M'gann was left alone in the kitchen with the Waynes. They didn't acknowledge her presence, they just continued talking with one another silently. She stood there for a good two minutes before the boys finally finished their conversation.
"Um, can I ask something?" M'gann spoke up uncertainly.
"Yeah, what is it?" Tim replied.
"Why are the criminals so desperate to capture you for the Joker? Surely the things he is offering isn't that promising? It's just money and resources and weapons, can't they get that with other easier methods? And why not ransom you themselves? Why give you up to the Joker?" M'gann questioned in a single breath. She had been burning with curiosity ever since she'd thought of those questions, though she'd never really had the chance to voice them before.
"The thing you should know about Gotham, M'gann," Dick answered her, "is that this city is made up of all kinds of desperate people. People turn to crime because they have no other way to earn money, and they can't land themselves a decent job. Gotham is the most crime-ridden city in the world. Crime is the easiest way to earn money here, it's practically the most popular occupation in this city. Poverty, greed and hatred fueled the crime in this city."
"Wealth, weapons and resources aren't the kind of things these common criminals come by every day, so, from their perspective, the things the Joker is offering is a very big deal," Tim continued. "With them, they could spend the rest of their lifetimes in comfort, and it's too tempting an offer for them to resist." He sighed softly, looking resigned and... sad. "We try to rehabilitate these criminals, help kids on the streets get out of toxic environments and provide jobs and scholarships for the poor, but our efforts alone aren't enough. As big of a company Wayne Enterprises is, as many charity galas and balls we hold to raise funds, as many scholarships we give out, as many donations we make to charity events and orphanages, it will never be enough. There will always be some people we couldn't reach, some people we couldn't help, some people who suffer and turn to a life of crime to help themselves and their families. We try our best, but we will never be able to help them all. It's just...how it goes, I guess. There is no such thing as a perfect world."
"Now, you ask why the criminals don't just ransom us off by themselves instead of giving us up to the Joker? Obviously they could make tons of money from kidnapping us, which is why so many dumb criminals try it so often, but even the other Arkham inmates know not to mess with the Joker," Jason explained.
"Rule No. 1 of Gotham," Dick said. "Never mess with the Joker, not unless you're a Bat."
"There's a reason he's called the Clown Prince of Crime," Jason grunted, a ferocious scowl darkening his face. "That mad psycho's a deranged jackass. I swear if I get the chance, I'd beat that fucker to death with a rusty crowbar and then leave him with a goddamned bomb. Blow him up into tiny smithereens and ashes. See how much he likes being on the other end of the crowbar."
M'gann saw Dick cringe from the corner of her eye. "He's...er....had some bad experiences with the Joker. Don't ask."
"The point is," Damian interjected before Jason could retort, "the Joker is no fool. He may act imbecilic and manic—and make no mistake, he is—however, he is also, regrettably, very intelligent. He has cleverly manipulated an entire city of criminals to do his bidding without even having to lift a finger to attain what he desires. The Joker is not to be taken lightly." Damian scowled in annoyance. "Which is why we had better get along with strategizing, if only your teammates would kindly grace us with their presence," he snapped irritably, the sarcasm in his words unmistakeable.
M'gann blushed in embarrassment and called out to the others through the mind link. "Um, they'll be here shortly."
Just fifteen seconds later, the rest of the team came hurrying into the room.
"About time," Jason scoffed. "Would've thought you guys drowned in the shower if Fish Boy wasn't there."
"My apologies." Kaldur, ever the polite one. "We had a slight mishap with the bathtub."
"Huh, I wasn't that far off," Jason muttered under his breath.
"It's fine," Dick interrupted before Damian could open his mouth and let out a torrent of verbal abuse. "Gather around, please. We'll brief you on the plan."
The team crowded around the table the boys were sitting at, listening intently to their words.
"Okay, first of all, I found the Joker with some of my technology," Tim started briskly. The fact that he did not elaborate about the details of the technology used showed just how serious he was taking this and how little time they had. "He's in one of the empty warehouses by the docks, Warehouse 37. By now, he'd already know that we've escaped the manor. He'll have eyes everywhere."
"How will we get there, then? Can we use the tunnels?" Artemis asked.
"The tunnels don't extend to the docks," Tim replied. "The tunnels only connect the manor to our various safehouses and other important places, which does not include the warehouses. That means we'd have to travel aboveground. Sneaking around at night in Gotham shouldn't be too much of a problem—Gotham's perpetually dark anyway—but we better watch out for any lurking criminals. It is essential that we don't get discovered or else we'd lose the element of surprise and therefore, the advantage. The Joker is one of Gotham's most unpredictable and dangerous criminals. Any advantage over him has to be exploited. His inconsistency means we don't know what to expect. None of you should ever underestimate him. Always keep your eyes open and be on your guard at all times, because the Joker strikes anywhere, at any time, at any place, in any way," Tim warned them, his expression grim. "He always has multiple cards up his sleeve."
"And what does Batman have to say to all this?" Conner grunted.
"Batman agreed, albeit pretty grudgingly," Dick told them. "They're stretched out too thin to send anyone in to help. It's a fucking battlefield out there. We're on our own."
Jason leaned back against the back of his chair and crossed his arms. "Nighttime is obviously the best time to strike. We'll sneak into the warehouse under cover of the dark. We leave at 8 p.m. We have 10 hours to prepare. Wear disguises or dark clothing." He stood up, his chair scraping across the marble floor with a screech and sauntered out of the kitchen, heading back to the bedrooms. Damian followed suit, his trademark scowl fixed on his face. Dick told them to prepare everything they need and get ready before leaving too, while Tim fixed himself a mug of coffee before following his brothers, leaving the team in the kitchen feeling very nervous and pressured, or as Nightwing would have put it, not whelmed at all.
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"We have to get some makeshift weapons," Tim said.
Damian rolled his eyes. "And for what, Drake?"
"We have to at least look the part of 'rich civilian kids,'" Tim air-quoted. He sat down on the bed heavily. "So how are we going to play this?"
"It's almost a guarantee that we'd need to let loose on our skills and maybe use a gadget or two from our utility belts," Dick said, anxiously biting his bottom lip. "I mean, it is the Joker."
"Sudden appearance by the Batboys, maybe?" Jason suggested.
"And how about the Wayne boys? Can't just disappear," Tim countered.
"Perhaps we could persuade the team to leave matters in our hands," Damian proposed, putting his two-cents into the conversation. "Surely we have enough authority to do that."
"Sure we do, Demon," Jason said, "but it's pretty suspicious if you ask me." He ignored Damian's muttered no one asked you, Todd.
"Jay's right," Dick agreed. "Technically, we're supposed to on an undercover mission in Tokyo, so calling us out would have blown our cover and put us in potential danger, not to mention we wouldn't have been able to return fast enough anyway. We're also supposed to only have limited communication to minimize suspicion." He took a deep breath. "We have to make do with what we have. Maybe keep to the shadows and fight unseen. Also if we are forced to use recognizable gadgets like batarangs then I guess we could tell the team that the Bats gave us some stuff. I mean, Bruce funds Batman Inc., so it would make sense."
Tim shrugged. "That's the least of our worries anyway. The Joker's top priority." No one missed the way Jason clenched his fists so tight his nails dug white half-moon marks on his palms, or the way Dick's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, or the way Tim's eyes flashed with deep hatred, or the way Damian growled menacingly under his breath.
"You don't actually believe that we'd be able to catch the Joker off guard with our arrival, do you?" Dick asked Tim, changing the subject.
Tim clicked his tongue, sounding very much like Damian. The kid's rubbing off on him. "No, of course not. With the team lumbering around awkwardly like that, anyone with half a brain would notice them and report to the Joker. You really have to give them lessons on how to properly blend into their surroundings, Dick."
"I know," Dick sighed, swiping his hand down his face tiredly. "Honestly, when we get back, we'll have so much to work on."
"So the Joker will be expecting us. We'll stick with the plan we made earlier. We make sure he doesn't gain the advantage," Tim stated.
"You sure we can't kill him?" Jason asked for the fifth time that day.
Dick sighed again. "Look, Jay, we're at a severe disadvantage here. We're forced to stay in our civilian personas, Bruce isn't here, the Joker has who knows how many people working for him. We have a very real chance of dying today. We all have been beyond the grave, and it's not fun. But—" Dick paused for a second, before seemingly steeling himself and plunging on— "I want you to know that if push comes to shove, if it was a choice between the Joker's life or yours, any of yours—" Dick looked them all in the eye, his gaze unwavering and very serious— "I would always choose yours."
No one spoke for a moment.
Maybe it would have come as a shock for some people. Dick, the Golden Boy, willing to break the One Golden Rule? Nightwing, Batman's most loyal son, willing to break the one rule that had been drilled into their heads since the very beginning? He would willingly sacrifice his relationship with Bruce, to save his brothers' lives? (A/N: duh)
But his brothers understood. They understood more than anyone else.
"Likewise, Dick," Tim finally said, voice breaking.
Jason was too stupefied to speak. Inside, his emotions were swirling around like a hurricane in utter turmoil. He didn't know what to do. He felt like he might burst from the raging whirlwind of emotions running rampant in his chest.
Damian pursed his lips to stop them from wobbling, and nodded his head, wordlessly echoing Tim's sentiment.
Tim took a deep calming breath and reached over to pull his tablet into his lap. "Let's check out Bruce's contingencies. I mean, we already have them all memorized, but who knows? Maybe he added a new one recently."
Damian rolled his eyes. "Or a hundred."
Dick shook his head in slight amusement and fondness. "That's so like Bruce."
♔ ♔ ♔
8 P.M.
"Y'all ready?"
The team collectively nodded at Jason's question. They all looked well-rested and prepared this time, with determined—if slightly anxious—looks on their faces. They were all dressed in dark inconspicuous clothing.
The boys were similarly dressed in colour scheme. Tim and Damian were in black hoodies and jeans. Both Dick and Jason wore dark coats, and Jason even had a beanie pulled low over his eyes.
"Great." Jason's lips curled into a predatory grin. "Let's go kick some ass."
Damian rolled his eyes. "Do you not understand the concept of discretion, Todd? We must stay silent and stealthy. We cannot 'kick ass', as you so eloquently put it."
"We can kick ass quietly," Jason argued, frowning.
"The literal meaning of 'kick ass' is act in an aggressive or forceful manner," Tim told him, shaking his head. "Emphasis on the aggressive and forceful."
"Who says we can't be aggressive and quiet?"
"Todd—"
"Guys, come on," Dick huffed. "Let's just go already."
Tim found the utterly tired looks on the team's faces utterly hilarious, but at least he had the decency to try to keep a straight face. Jason, predictably, did not.
His guffaws echoed around the room loudly, eliciting exasperated sighs from the members of the team. Dick smiled fondly at Jason, who was bent over clutching his stomach, while Damian scoffed from beside him, though Tim could see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
"Right, so are we going or not?" Tim called out. Jason's chuckles slowly subsided, but he was still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Oh my god, Tim, did you see their faces?" Jason laughed, dropping a hand heavily on Tim's shoulder. "They're so tired of us. It's only a week and they're already tired hahahahaha!"
"Yes, yes, Jason. We all know you're annoying."
"Fuck you, Timbo. All of us are annoying."
"Maybe. But you're the most annoying."
"Hm, no. If I had to take a guess, I'd say Demon Spawn is the most annoying. I mean, he's a brat."
"Todd, you are a neanderthal."
"We'll never get anything done at this rate," Dick sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Okay, okay, back to business," Tim said. He turned to the team. "Follow me. Once we're outside, you have to try to blend in, alright?"
"Understood," Kaldur answered for the team.
"Then let's go. We'll be going out the back door."
The team followed Tim and Jason to the back of the safehouse through a door they hadn't noticed before (since they hadn't gone exploring), with Dick and Damian bringing up the rear. Dick locked the door behind them with a final click.
The team followed Tim and Jason silently, keeping to the shadows and trying to act casual, like they belonged there. The boys seemed to have no problem getting into character, seamlessly blending in and easily mimicking the air of seclusiveness and habitual suspicion surrounding every single passersby they passed, warily glancing at everyone. This seemed to be the way Gothamites treated one another, with hostility and suspicion, so the boys were completely in place. No one sent them a second glance, though the team did receive quite a number of odd looks. They were so clearly out of their depth.
At the brisk pace they were travelling in, getting to the docks only took fifteen minutes. Fortunately, there was no one loitering around the docks, so they had no trouble locating an entrance going into Warehouse 37 and sneaking in. Unfortunately, it seemed that their arrival had been anticipated.
"Welcome, welcome!" The booming laugh of the one and only Clown Prince of Crime cut through the air. Artemis almost jumped out of her skin. "I do love a good party! So kind of you all to join in!"
"Now that we're all here—" the Joker's manic smile turned into a menacing snarl— "let the party begin!"
And with that, all hell broke loose.
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This chapter's relatively short. Sorry about that. On second thought, I think I probably won't be updating next week. The equation is like this:
Finals + difficult fight scenes = need more time.
See you all in two weeks then! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Also, it's December 1! Happy Birthday, YJ Dickie!!!