#still can’t get over quinn calling bright ‘little mouse’

[unavenged-robin]

Possible angst prompt: Red Hood finding Talon!Dick on the streets?? Or just Talon!Dick in general? Congrats on 2K followers that amazing!!! 💕💕

*meant to put that with my first ask so sorry about that!* “What happened to you?” -Jason Todd to Talon!Dick

Definitive angst prompt XD And thank you! ♥ This turned out to be much longer and more complicated than I had imagined at first but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. 

Moving back to the Manor had not been an easy decision for him, and there were days - but mostly nights - when the very idea of staying even one more minute in that big, silent house, was unbearable and infuriating, and every instinct in his body would start screaming for him to run, and hide, and forget about everything and everyone. Voices inside his head would remind him that he didn’t owe anybody shit, that he wasn’t the one to blame for how the things had gone wrong, that this time he wasn’t the one who let the family down, that the silence in the house was not his fault.

But Jason has a trick for nights like those (nights like this one).

“Hey, brat!”, he calls out to the kid perched on the couch as he enters the living room. “Let’s go out.”

Damian doesn’t even raise his gaze from his phone. He does, however, raise his middle finger at him.

“Try that again and I’ll break every bone in your hand”, Jason warns amiably and then, before Damian decides to take him up to the challenge, he approaches the boy and, with a quick movement, snatches the phone away from his hands.

“Hey!”, Damian protests, immediately trying (and failing) to grab it back. Jason raises his hand over his head, way out of Damian’s reach, and smiles down at the kid.

“Come on, put on some shoes and let’s go grocery shopping”, he prompts him. “Alfred said he needed a few things for tomorrow’s lunch.”

Damian glares at him.

“I believe that Pennyworth is more than capable of getting groceries on his own, Todd”, he answers with his best snotty tone, the one that suggests he’s already doing Jason a great favor by acknowledging his presence on this Earth.

Jason snorts.

“And good thing he is. Otherwise this family would have gone extinct for some time now.”

Damian, having clearly reached the limit of his patience with Jason’s teasing - and most likely with Jason in general - stands up on the couch armrest and reaches out his hand again to recover the stolen phone, only realizing his mistake when he sees Jason grinning like the Cheshire cat. To give credit to the kid, he only groans in defeat when Jason wraps an arm around his waist and lifts him up to throw him over his shoulder, a gesture that has now become almost a habit for both of them (although with different degrees of appreciation).

“Put me down, you big oaf!”, Damian yells as usual, struggling in Jason’s hold despite the fact that he knows it will not help him one bit. Jason only laughs, readjusts his grip on the boy, and starts walking, not paying any attention to the indignant cries and insults spitted out at him.

As per script now, little fists promptly begin to storm down on every inch of his back that the kid manages to reach, but they’re not as violent as they could be, and fists are not even the best weapon Damian could use against him in the position he’s in. There are unprotected nerves that he could reach and hit if he really wanted, and a little pressure on one of those points would damage Jason in a much more serious way than a few punches, and Damian knows it as well as Jason does, since the first times he found himself flipped over his shoulder he went directly for those.

In a way, Jason supposes that it’s kind of sweet on Damian’s part to now accept the (sometimes not so) gentle bullying as if he had finally - albeit reluctantly, and definitely not without a fight - submitted to his role of younger brother.

He still tries to kick Jason in the groin, though. The little shit.

Jason half-heartedly swats the kid’s bottom in retaliation, then he peeks his head into the kitchen.

“Hey Alf, do you have a list of things to pick up for us? We’re heading out anyway.”

“No, we’re not!”, Damian yells, still kicking his feet over Jason’s shoulder. “Pennyworth, Todd took me hostage!”

Alfred stops stirring for the time needed to cast a glance at the unlikely duo standing in the doorframe of his kitchen, then raises an eyebrow at them.

“I can write down a list for you, Master Jason”, he answers after a moment. “And Master Damian, you should know that my policy in cases of kidnapping of your person by family members is of non-intervention. Unless there is evidence of ill or deadly intentions, of course.”

Damian groans and for a moment it looks as if he has accepted the inevitable defeat, then he gives a sudden jerk and goes again for Jason’s testicles, which only earns him another swat.

“Ow! You’re a bully”, the kid growls, slumping in frustration against him.

“I’m doing my job of older brother in teaching you the injustices of the world”, Jason replies, patting him in mock comfort.

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep”, Damian declares, then he huffs and lifts himself up as much as he can, making a point of sinking his elbows into Jason’s back. “Can I have my phone back at least?”

“Nope. And if you try to kick me again I’m gonna drop you on your head.”

Obviously Damian kicks him again. Obviously Jason doesn’t drop him. (But only because Alfred was watching.)

-

Supermarkets at night always have a surreal touch. Perhaps it’s because of all those bright neon lights buzzing and shining on every surfaces they find, and the crowded lanes that seem to become empty in the blink of an eye. Perhaps it’s the sound of the cart wheels that gets louder and louder as you move away from the front door, while the music in the background quietly disappears into white noise. Perhaps it’s the idea of the hidden cameras in the corners of the shop spying on him, recording his every move.

Damian doesn’t seem bothered by any of this, Jason notices. Although it could be because he’s again too much focussed on the phone that he’s just regained.

“Don’t you have the impression of being watched?”, Jason asks, and the question takes a few seconds too long to overcome for interest the colorful game that seems to absorb all of his little brother’s attention.

Once the words sink, though, Damian stops beside him and looks up, first at Jason, then at their surroundings. He maintains a pretty believable expression of teenage boredom, but his eyes are serious and attentive now, as he considers the possible implications of Jason’s remark.

It takes him all of thirty second to click his tongue at his older brother and dismiss him as a paranoid idiot.

“I mean it”, Jason insists, but Damian rolls his eyes at him and moves to grab a box of cereals from the lowest shelf.

“Is this okay?”, he asks. “Pennyworth’s note only says ‘cereals’, with no other specifications.”

Jason scratches his head and throws a few more glances all around.

“Yeah, sure”, he agrees distractedly, taking the box from the kid’s hand and throwing it into the cart. They turn the corner of another empty lane, reaching the frozen food section and the large windows facing the street outside.

The only lights out there are the familiar tall, black, and vaguely gothic - like everything else in that city - Gotham’s street lamps. All Jason can see is black asphalt, deserted sidewalks and puddles of dirty water. Nothing weird. Nothing out of place.

And yet there is this feeling in the back of his mind that makes his skin crawl. It’s been tormenting him since they stepped out of the car and he can’t shake it off. The feeling of being observed, cautiously studied by cold eyes, as if he were a prey. And not any prey either. He feels like a mouse hidden in the grass that senses the presence of an owl behind him. It’s a feeling Jason doesn’t like but one he knows.

Besides, there’s something else to it now. Something painful, something that’s mostly wishful thinking on his part, but that keeps tugging at his strings. Jason needs to know if he’s right. He needs to try, and he needs to do it alone. So he grabs Damian’s hand, pushing him forward and closer to the cashier, where a small group of people is waiting for their turn to pay.

“What are you doing?”, the boy complains, indignant.

“Here”, Jason retorts, handing the grocery list and the cart to the boy. “Pick up the milk, the eggs, and whatever junk food you think Alfred doesn’t know you keep hidden in your room, then wait for me here, okay?”

“What? No!”, Damian protests. “It was your idea to come here in the first place, you’re not going to burden me with-”

“Yes, I am”, Jason cuts him off. “It’s only gonna take five minutes, stop being a baby about it.”

An old woman in the checkout line turns around to look at them. She gives Damian an encouraging smile that succeeds in both making the boy blush and in interrupting the tantrum before it could escalate into a full fight, but also, Jason suspects, in cementing Damian’s intention to kill him in his sleep. He will have to make sure to bar the door of his bedroom tonight.

“Five minutes”, Jason promises to the kid.

“I will cut you into pieces and feed your remains to Quinn’s hyenas”, Damian promises back, still red in the face.

Jason pats him on the head and moves towards the exit, trying not to run.

-

Here’s a fact: owls are one of nature’s best killing machines. They’re created to be so. Every detail of their body is designed to make it easier for them to hunt, to better surprise their victims and to never let them escape once they’ve been captured. Owls are ruthless killers, and yet it’s quite easy to forget this little detail about them. Nowadays when people thinks of owls, they think about Harry Potter. Not here in Gotham, though. Here in Gotham people remember the murderers more than they remember movies and books. That’s evolution for you.

Jason’s not an owl, but he’s a pretty decent hunter (and killer, when needed) too. Not that his prey is making such a great effort to hide. The footsteps over his head are careful and feather-lighted, but still very detectable in the silence of the streets. And Jason can’t be sure that it’s him but at the same time he is. Because it wouldn’t make sense otherwise. And because if it isn’t him, then Jason has committed a terrible mistake in leaving Damian behind.

The sound of footsteps stops just above him. Jason looks up but the darkness mixes shapes and shadows and he can’t distinguish almost anything in it, except the profile of a fire escape staircase crawling up the side of a building. There could not be a clearer invitation, Jason thinks. So he grits his teeth and climbs the steps carefully, one hand over his gun, the deafening sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, waiting for an attack that he hopes will never come. (Because it’s him. Of course it’s him.)

He reaches the roof of the building undisturbed, and still finds only shadows waiting for him. But one of those shadows is familiar enough for Jason to breath a sigh that is both relief and something uncomfortably close to fear.

“Dick?”

A mask of black and gold slowly emerges from the darkness and it’s not his brother’s face, but it’s the closest thing to it that Jason has seen in months.

“Dick”, he breathes again, and the names almost sounds like a prayer on his lips.

He can see the Talon better now. The slim but solid body wrapped in black armor, the daggers lined up on his chest, the twitching blades in his hands. Jason swallows and takes a step forward.

“Hey.”

Silence. He doesn’t even hear the sound of a breathe coming from him (from it?). He had a conversation about this with Bruce once. Are Talons even alive?, he had asked him. It had been a sterile debate, an exercise in ethics and syntax that had ended with nothing but the usual resentment. Then Dick had gone and become one of them, and there had been no more space for any moral debate.

“What happened to you?”, Jason asks now, slowly, like he were talking to a feral animal instead of his older brother. “I mean… I know what you did. Why you did it. But why not come back? Why not let us help you after-”

He stops, licks his lips. The Talon in front of him hasn’t moved one inch, there’s no way to tell if he’s even listening to his rambling. There’s no way to tell if he is Dick either, and it kills Jason that as much as he wishes he could, he’s not capable of recognizing his own brother among all the Court of Owls’ soldiers.

“Do you remember when I first came back?”, Jason goes on, even though deep down he believes that his efforts are useless at this point. But he needs to at least try to connect with the creature in front of him, with what remains of his brother. And something of him must have remained, otherwise why would the Talon being spying on them in the first place? “Do you remember what you told me then? That I could come home? That whatever war I was fighting, we could fight it together?”

He is paraphrasing a bit, but a little white lie is not going to hurt anybody, right? No more than they already are, at least.

“I didn’t trust you. I didn’t know if you really meant it, if it was true or not. Not back then. But you should know that it’s true now”, because Jason’s ready to make sure it is. “Come home, Dick. Bruce needs you. The kids need you. They even called a truce for you, that’s how bad it is. Tim’s going crazy trying to find you, and Damian… well.”

The Talon shifts at the mention of the names, the motion almost invisible, but Jason is too focused on him not to notice it. He has no idea on what it means, though.

“You saw Damian down there, didn’t you?”, Jason insists. “The kid is heartbroken, Dick. And he’s angry. Angrier than he was when Talia dropped him here the first time, which it says something, if I can add my two cents. And you still care about him, right? So if not for the rest of us- for the rest of them, I mean, then at least do it for him, Dick. Do it for Damian?”

It comes out like begging, and Jason hates it. But if it works then whatever. He can always deny everything later.

“Dick…”

He realizes in a quick moment that it had not been the mention of the kids’ names that had bothered the Talon, but his very own. And apparently he had just reached the limit of his patience with it.

The Talon’s speed is inhumane. Jason has barely the time to see him move, let alone try to react or to defend himself. If this was a lethal attack, then his life would’ve ended in the space of a heartbeat, with a flash of red and gold. It is almost funny, the idea of dying on an anonymous rooftop, by the hand of someone that once claimed to love him. Someone he loves. Times like this, Jason feels like he can almost understand Bruce, all the things he did and still does, the burden he drags along every step Batman takes and that sometimes threatens to pull all of them down with him.

The hand that land on his chest seems to be made of stone and steel and knocks the wind out of him. He’s pushed backwards, his back collides with one of the chimneys behind him and Jason wheezes, tries to reach out a hand to stop him, to shield himself. He manages to grab the Talon’s wrist, fingers wrapping around the rough gauntlet of his uniform, but he’s not strong enough to move it, and the Talon’s other hand is crushing him, making his vision falter and waver, black spots blooming in front of him where the Talon’s face should be. He doesn’t even know where his gun is, and even if he did, he’s not sure that he would be able to use it.

One thing he still can see - that he can only see now, from this close - is that there are eyes behind the red lens. Blue eyes. His brother’s eyes. But there’s no sign of recognition in them, no familiar spark. Dick is a Talon, and the Talon is Dick, and for some reason, until a moment ago, Jason thought those were two very different things. It’s weird to only realize it now, because he’s never been one for denial when it came to things like this. People change, he supposes.

He blacks out while watching the owl mask in front of his face moving oh so slightly, as if the Talon were trying to speak (trying to ask for help), but no sound escapes Dick’s lips, and whatever the Talon is trying to tell to him, Jason doesn’t understand it.

The last thing he feels is a light brush of something cold and hard against his forehead, and then everything goes black.

-

He wakes up maybe thirty seconds, definitely less than a minute later, which is still enough time for the Talon to disappear into the night. Jason wasn’t expecting anything less. He doesn’t even bother with looking around for him.

His chest hurt, and so does his back as he carefully stands up and retrieves his gun from the floor. Getting down the stairs and dragging himself back to the supermarket is no fun, and it’s even less funnier when he has to straighten himself and pretend that nothing happened for the sake of the kid standing angrily in the street with two grocery bags at his feet and another into his arms.

The old woman from the checkout line is standing next to Damian, a grocery bag of her own in her arms, and from what Jason can see she’s smiling down at Damian and talking his ear off about something that Jason can’t grasp. Her presence is probably the only reason Jason’s greeted with a glare and a laconic “you are late”, instead of a punch and a colorful series of insults.

“Sorry, kiddo”, Jason concedes, then politely nods at the woman. “Thank you, Miss…”

The old woman gives him a smile that lacks in teeth but not in kindness.

“Only Ettie, dear.”

Jason smiles back at her, feeling a little surreal.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on my little brother, Ettie.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, dear”, the woman says. “Gotham is not a safe place for children to be left alone in the streets, you know? Especially at night.”

Jason’s shaken enough by the night’s events to actually feel guilty at her words.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry”, he repeats.

They talk for a few more minutes. About what, Jason really can’t say. He forgets the words as soon as they leave his lips, but at least he has the time to get back in control of both his body and his mental faculties, and by the time the old woman waves them goodbye he feels okay again. As okay as he’s ever gonna be, at least. Damian, on his part, only grumbles under his breath for the entire time, narrowing his eyes in a glare that promises a painful revenge for every second of this torture he’s forced to endure.

“You said five minutes”, the kid remembers him through gritted teeth once Ettie is distant enough. “What were you doing? Where did you go? If you dare again to-“

“Yeah, yeah, okay”, Jason repeats. “How many times do I have to apologize to you? I just had a little setback, that’s all. It’s all good now. You got everything?”

Another furious glare.

“Of course I did.”

“Good.”

Jason sighs and rubs one hand over his face. Damian takes a break from his rightful indignation to observe him with an almost worried sulk.

“Todd? Are you okay?”, the kid asks, losing the attitude for a moment.

I think I have two broken ribs, Jason wants to answer. He doesn’t. Partly because there’s no reason to tell Damian about tonight’s encounter, and partly because there’s that feeling again. Inhuman eyes looking down at him. Silent lips mouthing off words with no sound. A trapped bird, Jason realizes. That’s what Dick looked like.

He shivers. He knows the Talon’s back. And a part of him wants to look up, but if he does then Damian would follow his gaze and see Dick too. And that’s at least one nightmare that Jason can spare to the kid.

“Todd?”, Damian asks again.

Jason only shakes his head.

“Let’s go home.”

He leans down to pick up the grocery bags from the sidewalk and has to stop midway to not let out a moan. Yeah, definitely two broken ribs. Maybe three. Damian’s hand grips his arm and the kid tilts his head to the side, studying him.

Jason opens up his mouth to reassure him, but before he can speak the distinct sound of footsteps starts again above their heads, and Damian’s training kicks in place.

“What-”

He’s going to look up, Jason realizes. And if he sees Dick he’s going to go after him, and Jason is in no condition to follow either of them or to face the Talon again. And maybe that’s what the Talon wants. (Not what Dick wants, though). So Jason does the first thing he can think of: he grabs Damian by his shirt to pull him close and, going with the momentum, he kisses him on the forehead. (Like Dick had done on the rooftop, he realizes. Or tried to do as far as the Talon had let him, at least.)

It’s a quick, rough gesture, and the kid’s so surprised by it (almost more surprised than Jason is), that he doesn’t even punch him in the face. He only takes one step back to stare at him with wide eyes.

“What the hell was that for?”, he sputters, rubbing an arm over his forehead as if to delete the shameful gesture.

Jason stands up carefully and not without pain, listening for the Talon to move again. But the footsteps are gone now, and Damian seems to have already forgotten them.

“Just a reminder”, he answers then, his voice as casual as he can manage, while he adjusts the bags into his arms.

But Damian’s not having any of it and stomps after him when Jason moves towards the car.

“A reminder of what?”, he insists, still more confused than angry. “Todd, are you on drugs? Is this why you left? Father won’t be happy to know that you’re also a junkie, in addition to everything else.”

In spite of everything, even his hurting ribs, Jason finds himself barking out a laugh at those words. He pops the trunk open and puts down the bags.

“I don’t do drugs and you should know that, you little shit.”

The kid comes up in front of him, arms crossed on his chest and thunderstorms in his eyes.

“Then what the hell was that?”, he repeats. “And I want an answer that makes sense this time.”

Jason pauses. He too wants answers that make sense. He wants to know if Dick is a Talon or if there’s a Talon that used to be Dick. He wants to know which one of the two he faced tonight and what was the meaning of that encounter in the first place. He wants for this shitty situation to be solved. He wants his brother back.

“That was a reminder of the fact that you have an older brother who loves you a lot”, he decides then, and whatever answer Damian was expecting, this was not it. To be fair, Jason wasn’t expecting it either. And he still doesn’t know if he wants to believe it. “Now get in the car. You heard what your friend Ettie said: Gotham is a dangerous place at night.”

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 3, Chapter 6)

...Music is filling my ears. Piano music, a classical melody, familiar and cheerful. Mozart, I think...one of the sonatas. Underneath it is the ticking of an old-fashioned gear clock. As the image of Uqzhaal in his fearsome skull mask tumbles into my mind, I inhale sharply, my eyes flying open. I'm lying on an overstuffed couch in a treehouse room crammed to the gills with bizzare objects. I feel pressure on my right hand, the touch of a familiar calloused palm on my cheek.

“You all right there, Princess?” Jake brushes stray wisps of hair off my forehead, studying my face with worry in his eyes.

“I think so,” I mumble, feeling languid. “I'm a little groggy, but I'll live.”

I roll my head cautiously to the side to take in my surroundings. A Vaanti woman leans over a worktable. Her clothing is Anachronist, her hair dyed half pale lavender and half bubblegum pink and partially twisted into a topknot. She sets down her tools and wanders over to peer down at me through a pair of steampunk-looking goggles.

“Well, well. Still functioning.”

I feel my heavy tongue start to loosen, and I start to babble. “Look...I'm not the Endless! I didn't have anything to do with betraying the Vaanti or...” I trail off as her words register. “Wait...what's still fuctioning?”

“Your internal clock. Woke you up at just the right moment.” The Vaanti wanders over to a boom box sitting on the shelf along one wall and turns it off. The Mozart sonata cuts off. “You'll find that most of us aren't too interested in the Endless or the Catalysts. You had a hand in our story, certainly, but for us, that was quite long ago.”

With the hand that Jake isn't clutching, I reach up to rub the side of my head, still aching savagely from my fall.

“...What the hell was in that drink?”

“Liquified time crystal. Harmless to us, but extremely toxic to others. Seems the shaman had it out for you.” She leans over me, flicking a set of magnifying lenses over her goggles. “No symptoms other than drowsiness, though. You're very lucky. Or perhaps...different.”

I scowl, swatting at her with my free hand. “Hey, back off! I didn't come here for a physical.”

“No.” She straightens. “You came here seeking help. Our help. With the Island's Heart. Your friend Zahra told us.”

“Zahra? Where is she?” I look anxiously at Jake. “Where are the others?”

“They're nearby. They're fine. They just spent the night elsewhere in the city.”

“Fortunately, no one else consumed what you did,” the woman remarks.

“...And Uqzhaal?” I ask, bitterness creeping into my voice.

“On his way to Mount Atropo to stop the Endless, I presume. I pointed out to him that one can't be held accountable for the actions of an alternate self.” She pauses a moment. “Oh...you're probably wanting a name to call me. Clockmaker will do.”

“What's Jumanji planning to do?” Jake mutters. “Beat up Moon Man with his stick?”

Clockmaker sighs. “I'm afraid his words have managed to inspire a few of us who'd grown restless.”

“Restless about being trapped in the past?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Restless while waiting for Vaanu to depart.”

“...I'm not sure I follow.”

“We don't simply revel for hedonism's sake, you see. It's a farewell party. At some point, an eventuality may occur where Vaanu is finally able to continue on its journey. Then, at long last, our party will end.”

“Wait. The island is going somewhere?”

“Not the island, but the life force that created it. Our ancestors worshipped the former, but it's the entity at the heart of La Huerta who we call Vaanu. Vaanu's arrival on Earth tore its body into hundreds of fragments. And when it broke, space and time broke too, trapping Vaanu here.”

“Sounds like some kind of alien...” I murmur thoughtfully.

“Stories speak of a bright light. Visions. A faceless angel guiding those in need.”

Jake's grip on my hand tightens. “That's our guy!”

“But I still don't understand why it would want to help us...”

“Perhaps Vaanu is hoping you might help it in return,” Clockmaker suggests. The ticking clock begins to toll the hour, its bell low and musical. Clockmaker picks up a small desk clock and delicately turns back the hour hand. “As for me, I can get you into Rourke's facility in exchange for an answer to one, simple question.”

“This oughta be good,” Jake mutters.

Clockmaker takes a seat in an odd-looking chair placed conspicuously in the center of the room and casually folds her arms.

“What is time?” she asks.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “...Seriously?”

“Like...the abstract concept of time?”

“Yes. What does it mean to you? Answer carefully.”

I am quiet for a pregnant moment. I close my eyes, trying to picture time. Trying to imagine forever. I start to feel dizzy again. Visions and memories tumble through my mind. The visions of the twelve idols. Memories of conversations I have had on this island, or things I have heard people say.

Time is inevitability, the Endless said.

Marking the passage of time is a fruitless effort, Varyyn said. It is time that marks the passing of us. Every end is a new beginning. Except the last one.

We are all slaves to time.

Time is a largely superficial construct.

We are all temporary, I said to Quinn. Every last one of us is a physical thing that eventually weathers away...killed by the very thing we were trying to keep alive.

Two-thousand one-hundred thirty-nine loops. Loops. Circles. An endless spiral of seasons and years that spirals up and out and moving ever onward as the lights of souls on its path are born and flicker out. ...Spiraling like...a DNA helix....

“...Time is inevitablity,” I say softly. “There is no escaping it. ...It always wins in the end...”

Clockmaker seems disappointed by my answer. “An interesting perspective, and an informed one. It is also the perspective of the Endless.”

I look up sharply. “I already told you, I'm not--”

“Not now. Not yet. But you are starting to think like her.” She sighs and rises. “In any case, you have answered my question, and now my end of the bargain is owed. Come.” She opens a sliding metal door and beckons for us to follow. Jake helps me to my feet, supporting me until I find my balance.

We emerge into hazy daylight onto one of the upper walkways. Anachronist Vaanti are still carousing on every level of the city.

“Alodia!” I turn to see Zahra approaching unsteadily, her arm wrapped around Craig's waist, a bundle tucked under her other arm. She hiccups sharply, making Craig snort with laughter.

“Yo, you got the hiccups again.”

“No I...hic...don't!” she protests. I bite back a smile, trying to look stern.

“Have you two been up partying all night?”

They exchange a blank look and immediately dissolve into giggles.

“You say that like you're surprised,” Zahra snorts, hiccupping again.

“Oh, crap, Z!” Craig suddenly yelps. “Don't look now, but there's a mouse by your foot!”

Zahra yelps, looking around wildly. “Where?! Where is it?!”

“Boom,” Craig replies. “Hiccups cured.”

As Zahra glares reproachfully at Craig, Michelle wanders out of a nearby building, rubbing her temples. Her hair is tousled, her make-up smeared.

“How does anyone sleep around here with all the noise?” she complains.

“It's not 'noise,'” one Vaanti informs her haughtily. “It's EDM.”

“Whatever,” Michelle grumbles. The others are emerging behind her, looking varying levels of rested. Diego immediately rushes over to me.

“Allie! Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. No permanent damage. Just a slight headache.” I ruefully rub the tender spot on the side of my head. Diego sags with visible relief.

“Morning, Alodia,” Kele calls.

“What's up, doodlebombers?” Raj greets us. He immediately finds a warm place to lie down and closes his eyes. Clockmaker clears her throat.

“Alodia, when you're ready, I can open a rift here in Quarr'tel. It will take you directly to Rourke's compound beneath the Observatory, going back to a time before he'd expect you to arrive.”

“Oh, whaaaaaaat?!” Craig crows. “I like this already!”

“So...you're going to help us?” I ask incredulously. “Just for answering a question?”

“That question matters much more than you may realize,” Clockmaker replies. “As does the Island's Heart.”

“Hey, Alodia,” Zahra says. “If you're gonna be a freaking time ninja, you've gotta ditch the pirate look.”

I look down at the shirt and breeches I'm still wearing. “...I do?”

Zahra rolls her eyes. “Yes. Desperately. Here.” She takes the bundle out from under her arm and deposits it in my arms. “I grabbed some sick gear last night. Put these on.”

“Oh, fine, if you insist.”

I duck into the nearest building to strip off the shirt and breeches and replace them with Zahra's outfit choice instead. I pull on a purple, black, and navy blue dress of leather and silk with a low-cut bodice and a poofy, ruffled miniskirt. There's also a pair of strategically ripped black tights, sturdy black boots, and a pair of fingerless black leather gloves. I have to admit, it looks good. I'm not sure what I'd call the style. Steampunk? Cybergoth? Gothic Lolita? All three? I emerge, grinning.

“Okay, Zahra. I admit, I kinda like this.”

“What's not to like?” Zahra replies blithely. “You look like a rock star.”

Michelle whistles. “I feel like I need to create a new Pictogram account just to document that outfit.”

“Hell yeah!” Craig lifts a hand. “Gimme five, Alodia!”

I raise my own hand to comply, and he starts to pull his hand away. Suddenly, everything seems to be moving in slow motion, as if Craig is moving through syrup. I clap my palm against his, and he returns to normal speed.

“Too slow!” As the tingling in his palm registers, he stops and blinks. “Wait, what?”

I smooth the silky ruffles on my skirt. “...Woah...was that...?”

“Are we ready to go?” I glance over at Sean, who has pulled Raj to his feet. Raj is still blinking blearily, but he looks conscious enough.

“I think so.” I look over at Clockmaker, who nods. She takes a stopwatch from her pocket, and adjusts a few dials. The gathered Vaanti back up as she clicks the button on the top.

“Xiaoxin!” Clockmaker shouts. The air in front of me ripples and implodes like a burning film slide. A glowing wound opens in the skin of reality, surrounded by pulsing rainbow light.

“Oh, god,” Diego groans. “Is this where some guy in a demonic bunny suit tells us to 'wake up'?”

“I'm awake! I'm awake!” Raj yelps. “...Am I awake?”

“We'll try to maintain it until you return,” Clockmaker says. “Don't dawdle.”

“Time for deploy,” Jake murmurs, looking over at me. “You ready, Princess?”

I nod. “Let's go turn the tables on Rourke.” I take a breath and run headlong into the rift. The voice of an Anachronist follows me.

“They don't stand much of a chance, do they?”

“May Vaanu guide them,” Clockmaker replies.

We land in an immense, high-ceilinged industrial room, lined with monitors and technical equipment, far too advanced for me to make any sense of it. Lights flicker and flash, machinery whirs. Zahra looks around, her eyes wide with wonder.

“Dang...I could spend some time in here.”

Jake holds up a hand in a sharp gesture that we've all come to recognize. Everyone freezes, quieting. He jerks his head at a lanky, pale-haired figure standing at a computer terminal.

“Malfoy,” he whispers. “Three o'clock.”

Aleister's back is turned to us. He connects a cable to a hovering drone, and then turns back to the monitor.

“Mother? Can you hear me?” I can just make out Iris' face on the screen. “Mother, it's me! Please, I need your help...”

“Access denied,” Iris chimes. “User is invalid.”

Estela grabs my arm. “Someone's coming!”

A small group of Arachnid soldiers are suddenly rushing at us. Mike is leading them, and it's already too late to hide.

“Intruders!” Mike growls.

Aleister starts, whipping around to face us. His eyes widen. “Wha--? No! Stand down!”

The soldiers hold their ground. Aleister disconnects the drone, and the monitor goes blank. His eyes lock with mine.

“Aleister!” I growl. “Give us the Heart, and we'll leave.”

“You must be really out of ideas,” Zahra mutters.

“Aleister, you don't need the Heart,” Sean says. “Rourke's gonna trash the island if he keeps using it.”

Aleister's eyes never leave my face. “...You shouldn't have come here.”

“Permission to capture the intruders?” one Arachnid soldier asks as if having to ask is deeply irritating. Aleister rounds on the troops.

“Just...leave!” he growls through gritted teeth. “I have the situation under control!”

“You're lying,” Mike says flatly. Jake takes a step towards Mike, but Sean grabs his arm, holding him back.

“Mike!” Jake cries plaintively. “Fight it, dammit!”

Aleister turns to a terminal and enters a series of commands. Mike freezes in place.

“I said leave!” he snaps.

“...Yes, sir,” Mike answers after a moment. He turns stiffly and walks off.

“Wait!” one of the soldiers protests. “We're just gonna--”

“We're moving,” Mike snaps. “That's an order.”

“...Copy.” The soldiers reluctantly follow him down the hall.

“You're controlling him?!” Jake cries, a hundred emotions flickering in his eyes as he looks at Aleister.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Aleister mutters, rolling his eyes. “I merely adjusted his memory of the last few minutes.”

“Where's the Island's Heart?” I snarl.

Aleister sighs, and gestures vaguely behind us. “...There.”

We turn. On the far wall, gleaming out of the shadows, is a giant red robotic form surrounded by wires and scaffolding. It's a mecha suit, straight out of Transformers or Power Rangers.

“Good god...” I whisper.

“...It's inside the Omega Mech,” Aleister sighs.

“What in the Sam Hill?” Kele breathes.

“...We...are...screwed,” Craig groans.

“Nice knowing you, dudes,” Raj agrees.

“Allie!” Diego cries weakly. I turn to see him leaning over a surveillance monitor. His face is pale, his hands shaking. I glance at the screen and my stomach drops. It's a feed from a security camera, showing Varyyn restrained on a lab table. He isn't moving. I know the room he's in. I saw it once when I touched the idol of Canis. In that room, my best friend was gunned down.

“Oh, no...oh, nonono...”

“Oh, god,” Quinn whispers. “Are they experimenting on him?” Diego wrings his hands, breathing hard.

“We have to help him,” he whimpers. “Allie, please say we'll help him...”

Michelle is scanning the monitors beside him. “Grace must be here, too. Why don't I see her on any of these monitors?”

I whirl on Aleister. “Where are they keeping Grace?”

“You should leave the way you came, Alodia,” Aleister says softly. “This is only going to end badly for everyone.”

This time, I'm the one Sean has to hold back as I lunge at Aleister. “Tell me, you little--”

“Easy, Alodia!” Sean says firmly. “We have to move quick. Do we go after Varyyn first, or the Heart?”

I settle, still quivering with rage. “...We go for Varyyn first. And Grace. We'll need to get out of here quick after we have the Heart, and we're not leaving them behind.”

“Our friends come first,” Quinn agrees.

“As it always should be,” Estela says firmly. Diego pulls me into a hug.

“Thank you, Allie.”

Aleister turns back to the terminal keyboard. “I warned you. Now you've left me no choice but to—ungh!”

He slumps against the terminal and sinks to the floor. Estela stands behind him, brandishing the blunt end of her spear. She tips her head, popping tension out of her neck.

“Been wanting to do that for awhile now,” she mutters.

Craig grabs a power cord and begins tying Aleister's hands behind his back. Sean watches mournfully.

“I can't believe we have to do this, but it's better to not take any risks at this point.”

With Aleister secured and his limp body concealed in the shadows under a terminal, we make a break for the elevators.

* * *

After a bit of searching, we make it to the Observatory lab. Varyyn is there on the cold, sterile table, wrists and ankles pinned by mechanical restraints. Diego rushes to his side, leaning anxiously over him and stroking his face.

“Varyyn! Varyyn, can you hear me?”

Varyyn moans, his eyes fluttering. “...Diego...I had hoped to see your face one more time...” His voice is weak. “They ambushed me...Too many...I couldn't...”

“Shhhh. I know. I know.” Diego kisses his forehead. “Just hold on. We're gonna get you out of here.” Jake and Sean are already struggling with the restraints.

“Damn things won't budge!” Jake growls. Sean manages to create a tiny gap in one of the shackles before it snaps shut again. Diego turns to a workstation, where Zahra is already peering at the screen.

“Piece of cake,” Zahra says. “All we need to do is release the--” The workstation abruptly goes dark. Iris' hologram flickers to life in the center of the room, projected from a pedestal on the other side of the lab.

“I'm sorry, Zahra. I can't let you do that.”

My blood runs cold. Diego isn't alone this time. But I know what happens next. “We need to leave,” I say lowly. “Fast.”

“Iris, you've got to let Varyyn go!” Diego pleads.

“Negative,” Iris replies. I can almost whisper her next words with her. “This specimen will remain in custody for the duration of the procedure.” I cast my eyes to the wall near the ceiling at the same moment that the panels open and the machine guns descend, attached to robotic arms. A camera drops down with them.

“Are you kidding me?” Craig cries.

“Defense sequence initiated,” Iris says calmly. “Final warning...” I dive under the table. The others follow my lead, except Diego, who stays beside the table, clinging desperately to Varyyn.

“Diego!” I cry, my voice shrill with terror. The fear in my voice must be enough to move him, because he finally ducks down beside me, tears in his eyes. I pull him into my arms, feeling on the verge of tears myself. For a moment, all is quiet.

“...No hostiles within range,” Iris finally declares. “Defense sequence suspended.” The tension rushes out of me in a heavy exhale, leaving me weak and trembling.

“We gotta do something about that camera,” Jake murmurs.

“Eye in the sky need taking out? Leave it to me.” Kele produces a slingshot from his pocket, along with a rock. He takes aim, and sends the rock flying. With a clang, the camera detatches and drops, smashing against the floor. Kele grins. “Bingo.”

I peek out cautiously, and see a wisp of smoke rising from the destroyed camera. Diego chokes on a sob, scrambling out from under the table and rushing back to Varyyn's side as the rest of us emerge behind him.

“How do we get him out?” Quinn asks. “We have to get him out!”

“Surveillance lost in Cloning Lab,” Iris says. “Alerting proper channels.”

“Wait!” I cry. As my eyes flick to the smashed camera, a crazy idea occurs to me. “Iris! We've got Rourke at gunpoint!”

The others look at me as if I've grown a second head, but Jake nods approvingly.

“If you don't release Varyyn, Rourke here gets a bullet in the head!” he says sharply. “What's it gonna be?”

Iris' hologram scans the area, but she's been blinded by the loss of the camera. “Data inconclusive...Everett Rourke was not seen entering the Cloning Lab.”

“Just try and test me, Hallie 9000!” Jake retorts.

Iris is still for a moment. “...Threat level too high,” she says at last. “Complying with hostiles' demand.”

Iris vanishes. With four metallic pops, Varryn's restraints fall open. Diego clasps his newly freed hand, kissing it and weeping with relief. Michelle rushes to Varyyn's other side, quickly checking him over for injury.

“Doesn't look like he's hurt. Not beyond a few bruises, anyway. But he may have been sedated.”

The piercing blast of a siren rips the air apart, making us all jump. Zahra swears under her breath.  

“That little piece of holographic shit! She activated a fucking alarm!”

“We gotta move now!” Sean snaps. “Come on!”

Diego and Craig brace Varyyn on either side, keeping him propped upright. Varyyn struggles to keep his feet under him as we rush for the elevators, his chin dropping onto his chest. He lets out a weak croak.

“What was that, Varyyn?” Diego asks.

Another blast from the siren makes my heart spasm painfully. Every cell in my body is quivering with alarm. My breath comes out in shallow gasps. Varyyn raises his head with tremendous effort, nodding at a door on the other side of the lab.

“Grace...” he whispers.

A glance and a nod pass between us. We change course, heading towards the other door. We exit the lab at the meeting point of three hallways. Varyyn nods toward the left. The siren blasts a third time. As it fades, the sound of heavy footfalls approaching reaches my ears. Several Arachnid soldiers suddenly round the corner into the central hallway. Leading them is a hulking brute of a man with a shaved head, and two mechanical fists.

“Found yoooooooou,” Tetra sings, leering.

“Give yourselves up!” one Arachnid barks. “Or we'll have to use force.”

“Fuck you,” Jake replies coldly.

“Hey, Jakey-wakey,” Tetra sneers. “Wanna hear a good joke?”

Jake sighs. “Do I have a choice?”

“Why did the wolf cross the road?”

Jake edges back towards the rest of us, inclining his head. “On my signal,” he murmurs. “Princess, Ariel, Short Stuff and Big Guy, you take Papa Smurf and head left.”

“Uh...are any of those people even here?” Kele whispers back. I just pat his shoulder reassuringly. Tetra snarls impatiently.

“I said...Why did the wolf--”

“You got me, pal,” Jake cuts him off.

“He didn't. Somebody ripped his guts out first!” Tetra laughs uproariously, reaching toward Jake. His mechanical limbs stretch out like snakes, rapidly closing the distance between them.

“They rebuilt him!” Quinn gasps.

“Now!” Jake shouts.

Quinn, Diego, Craig, Varyyn, and I make a break for it down the left hallway. The rest of the group hold their ground, facing off against the Arachnid troops. I glance back over my shoulder and see Jake narrowly dodging Tetra's writhing limbs. The mechanical fists slam into the walls again and again, sending chunks of debris flying.

“Jake!” My cry is plaintive to my own ears. I don't want to leave him.

“Alodia, get out of here!” he shouts.

“Go!” Sean agrees. He, Jake, and the others take off down the opposite hallway. The Arachnid soldiers swiftly pursue. Tetra turns and notices me frozen in the hallway. His furious gaze shakes me from my stupor, and I turn to run.

“Oh no you don't!” I turn to see an arm of serpentine steel surging down the hallway towards me. I grab the handle of the nearest doorway and swing it open, ducking behind it. Tetra's mechanical fist smashes through the thick steel, becoming stuck halfway through, his mechanical fingers clawing the air inches from my face. I recoil, pressing my back against the door jamb. It's all I can do to keep upright, to keep myself breathing.

“Hell yeah, Alodia!” Craig whoops. I wonder how he can be cheering me when I'm trembling like a goddamn leaf.

“Stupid sneaky kid!” Tetra roars furiously. He forcibly retracts his arm to try again, but Quinn leaps in between us.

“Back off!” she growls. “Or I'll mess you up all over again!” She stares him down, raising her hands and waving her fingers as if preparing to cast a spell. Tetra shrinks as he suddenly remembers who she is.

“N-no! Get away from me, you freak!” He retracts his arm and turns to flee down the hall with the rest of his group.

“Never underestimate the power of jazz hands,” Diego quips.

“It's about all I've got at this point,” Quinn replies with a rueful smile.

“Grace...” Varyyn croaks. “...She...is there...” He nods toward a door at the end of the hall. Craig and Diego, Varyyn still braced between them, head toward the door. Quinn reaches out and slips her hand into mine, giving it a squeeze. She studies my face intently.

“...You all right, Alodia?”

I force a smile. “...I'm fine. Let's get Grace back.” But I grip her hand hard as we follow the others down the hall. On the other side of the door is a cramped interrogation room. An observation window looks in on a tiny cell. Grace is huddled in one corner of the cell. Her hair is matted, partially covering her face. What I can see of her expression, despondant and weary, makes my heart squeeze. She stares blankly into space.

“Grace!” I cry.

“Grace, can you hear us?” Quinn calls through the glass.

Grace raises her head. “...Alodia? ...Quinn? You're here, too?”

“We all survived, Grace,” I assure her. “We've come to get you out.”

Her gaze drops again. “Don't bother. You're better off without me.”

“What?” Diego yelps. “Grace, I don't know what the hell has been going on here, but we're gonna get you out!”

“We are here to help,” Varyyn agrees. He is starting to look a little steadier and more alert. A door into Grace's cell stands in the wall beside the observation window. Diego eases Varyyn into a chair and goes to the door, turning several latches. But when he pushes on the door, it still doesn't budge.

“I got this,” Craig says, putting a hand on Diego's shoulder and easing him aside. He takes a running start and body slams into the door, but it still doesn't give. He winces, leaning against the wall.

“I think there's something jamming it from the other side!” Quinn exclaims.

Grace curls towards the wall. “Just go away, you guys. They'll only catch you if you don't.”

A horrifying possibility creeps into my mind. What could Rourke or his Arachnid mercenaries have been doing to Grace that she jammed the door on her side to keep them out? I taste panic at the back of my throat.

“Grace, please! Open the door!”

“Why?! What's so good about being out there?! ...I'm better off where no one can get to me.”

A familiar light manifests on one of the walls inside the cell. The ghostly figure steps out of the cinder blocks, its faceless gaze regarding Grace curiously.

“They're baaaaaaaaack,” Diego sings without mirth.

Grace recoils. “Oh, no...I'm hallucinating again...”

“Grace!” I call. “That's Vaanu! It wants to help us!”

“No joke, Grace!” Craig agrees. “That thing's legit!”

“Just take whatever it gives you!” Diego adds.

Vaanu reaches inside of itself and pulls out a framed display containing colorful butterflies preserved behind glass. I press my palm to the glass of the observation window. Will she still see the visions if I'm not touching the object as well? Will I still see them? Grace reaches out a shaking hand towards the ghost. I close my eyes and let my forehead come to rest on the glass. Please...please let it still work...

A white light blooms behind my eyelids.

I am on a balcony overlooking a bustling city. The sky is the deep blue color of evening, but the soft glow of lights along the walkways and streaming from the glass-walled building behind brighten the balcony. On the other side of the glass is an upscale gallery. A large crowd is gathered inside, murmuring as they gaze at vibrant paintings featuring elaborate geometric patterns. The door to the balcony opens and Grace emerges. She is dressed in a bohemian skirt and blouse with a jeweled butterfly brooch. Her long hair has been woven into dozens of tiny brains, twisted off her face and held in place with a gold barrette. Michelle is beside her.

“I can't decide which one I like best,” Michelle is saying. “Really, Grace, they're all amazing!”

Grace beams. “Thank you! Just let me know if you do see one you want and I'll set it aside.”

The door slides open again. An elegant woman in a dark blue business suit, her hair flawlessly coifed and curled, steps out onto the balcony. I know in an instant who she must be. In spite of the stark contrast between Grace's gentle bohemian style and the woman's sharp, snappy business attire, Grace is the spitting image of her mother.

“Hello, Grace,” Blair Hall says pleasantly. Grace's eyes widen.

“Mom...w-what are you doing here?”

“Grace, what a question!” Blair laughs. “I've always supported your little hobbies.”

“'Little hobbies'?!” Michelle echoes indignantly.

“Mom, please don't try to embarrass me.”

Blair looks genuinely surprised by the accusation. “Never, darling! I just, well...I did notice that some of these designs of yours are a little lackluster...maybe some more splashes of color here and there to spruce things up, you know?”

“You're...missing the point,” Grace mumbles.

“I just don't understand why you don't take up something you're actually good at, sweetheart.”

“Okay, that's it!” Michelle snaps. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Hall, but shut the hell up!”

“Excuse me?” Blair scowls at Michelle. “You watch your mouth, young lady!”

“Tell her, Grace.”

Grace inhales and sets her jaw. “Mom, all of these paintings were generated by calculations and assigned geometric properties. The whole point of fractal art is to display the beauty of mathematics! It's not about being flashy or impressive, it's about celebrating the intrinsic patterns of the universe.”

Blair shifts a little. “Of course. I knew that.”

“No, you didn't. You've never taken anything I've done seriously, especially the things I'm passionate about.”

Blair's eyes pass from Grace to Michelle and back again. “...I see. I'll...just be going.” She turns on her heel, and stalks out with all the dignity she can muster. Michelle puts a hand on Grace's shoulder.

“You all right?”

Grace blinks in astonishment. “You know what? That...felt really good!”

Michelle grins. “Good! I think she will actually get it, by the way. Seeing how talented you are, she probably just feels threatened. Anyway, she's got about seven gushing art critics to get through on her way out of here, so I think it's gonna sink in.”

Grace chuckles a little, then sighs. “You know, when I was little, she gave me this glass box full of butterflies. Beautiful specimens in every color of the rainbow. It was my most prized possession. And then I started to realize that's all I was to her. A precious thing to keep under glass and hide away.”

“Grace, it's up to you who's really in your family and who's not,” Michelle replies. “Don't let the ties that bind you be the ties that break you. Okay?”

Grace smiles. “Okay. You're right.” She sighs again, but this time it sounds like a release. She straightens as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

“Now,” Michelle says with a grin, “I think it's time for some of that champagne!” She links her arm through Grace's, and the two of them head back into the party...

… I open my eyes again in the interrogation room. Grace stands at the center of her cell, eyes wide. She lifts her gaze to meet mine.

“Alodia...I think I just saw...”

“Your future,” I finish, smiling. Behind her, Vaanu fades into the wall, its light vanishing. Grace moves to the door. There is a series of clicks, and the cell door swings open. Grace stares at us, clutching the framed display.

“...I'm ready to go now,” she says with a soft smile. I rush inside to pull her into a hug. She holds me back. “...It's good to see you, Alodia.”

“You too, Grace. So good...”

She's back. Our swan is back. My family is almost complete again. If only we can draw the snake back to our side.

* * *

Back at the entrance to the lab, I approach to see the others clustered around Sean, who sits against the wall, clutching his left leg. His breathing is labored, his jaw tight with pain. As I get closer, I see the shine of fresh blood on his pants.

“Sean!” I cry out, rushing to kneel at his side.

“It's fine,” he growls. “I'll make it.”

“What happened?” Grace asks anxiously.

“Got grazed by a bullet,” he mutters, letting his head drop back against the wall.

“It isn't a graze,” Michelle says flatly. “It's a wound, Sean. The bullet is inside your flesh. I need you to take it easy and not put too much pressure on it.” She pulls off her backpack and begins searching through for her med kit. Jake shakes his head.

“There's no time for that, Maybelline,”he says grimly. “We barely lost Tetra and his grunts back there. They're gonna find us again if we wait much longer.”

“Can you walk, bro?” Craig asks anxiously. Sean nods.

“I'll manage. Let's just get out of here.” But he can't hold back a groan as Michelle and Raj help him to his feet. As we start back towards the surveillance lab, Zahra pulls a cylindrical device from under her arm and presents it to Craig with a grin.

“Lookie what we found.”

“The laser cannon!” Craig gasps. “I thought I wasn't gonna see this again!” He takes the harness eagerly and begins strapping it to his shoulder.

Zahra's grin widens. “Just try not to get too trigger-happy.”

We make our way to the elevators to return to the floor we arrived on. The Heart is our next objective. But I'm starting to get nervous again. Sean being wounded puts us at a disadvantage.

We make it back to the surveillance lab and creep over to the Omega Mech. Michelle and Raj ease Sean down against the wall while the rest of us stare up at the towering machine.

“It's...everything!” Zahra breathes.

“It's something, alright,” Kele concedes.

Jake scoffs. “Leave it to Daddy Weirdbucks to paint his doomsday device mid-life crisis red.”

I shade my eyes as I stare up at the thing. Erratic flashes of light hit my eyes from a compartment near the Mech's torso.

“There. I think the Heart's up there.”

“Cool,” Zahra says. “I'll check it out.” She hoists herself up onto an elevating platform and starts it up. It rises slowly, gears whining.

“Wait up, Z!” Craig jumps at the platform and hooks his fingers over the edge. He laboriously pulls himself up. “We used to watch Gundam together, remember? It was our tradition.”

Zahra laughs, slipping her hand into his. “I remember, ya doofus.”

The platform finally comes to a stop next to the compartment with the flashing light. Michelle suddenly grabs my arm.

“Did you see something moving over there?” Michelle points to a cluster of desks, where I see a vague shimmering.

“I see it,” Diego confirms. “I think it's the ghost.”

“No,” I murmur. “It's not the ghost.”

Fiddler turns off her cloaking, appearing in front of us, a sickening grin on her ruby lips. “You should've asked permission before dropping in, sweeties.” she purrs. “Now I'm gonna have to kick you out!”

A dark katana comes whirling through the air towards my lower body. My friends cry out in alarm. I grab a flat monitor off a desk and hold it up like a shield, even as I grit my teeth and brace for the pain. I'm thrown off balance as the blade crashes against the heavy plastic and clatters to the ground.

“Oh, god, too close!” Quinn gasps. Fiddler scoops up her weapon from the pile of shattered glass and plastic on the floor. Raj and Jake rush to my side and pull me to my feet.

“Shouldn't her blade have cut right through that?” Raj asks. He's right. But there's no glow of heat around Fiddlers katanas.

“What's the matter?” Jake sneers. “Lundgren replace your toys with hand-me-downs?”

“Shut up, Wolf!” Fiddler snarls. Jake steps away from me as Fiddler levels her blades at him. High above, a flare of light catches my eye. Zahra meets my gaze. She holds out the Island's Heart, preparing to drop it on Fiddler's head. Jake steps towards Fiddler carefully, keeping his eyes on her face. My heart wedges in my throat as he slowly closes the distance between him and her blades.

“You missed your opportunity to backstab me a second time, Jeanine,” Jake says lowly. “But if I get half the chance, I'll make you pay for what you did to me and Mike.”

In spite of herself, Fiddler retreats a few steps as Jake approaches, putting her squarely beneath Zahra. “Business, Jake. Just business. But then, you always did mix up work and pleasure...”

“What'd you do, Fiddler?” I ask. “What'd you do to them?”

She pulls herself up haughtily. “Jake didn't like what Lundgren was up to.” She lifts her blade, bringing it up to Jake's throat. “And I didn't like Jake. When he told me he was going to expose our commanding officer, I did what anyone would have done. I let Lundgren know exactly what kind of scum he had working for him.”

“Really. Sounds like you forgot to tell him about yourself.”

Fiddler turns towards me, clicking her tongue. “I do not like that mouth of yours, little blonde brat. How about I cut you a new--”

She is cut off by a loud thunk as the half-sphere of heavy crystal crashes down on her head. Fiddler crumples, unconscious. Diego quickly scoops up the still-intact Heart as Craig and Zahra cheer from the platfrom, high-fiving each other.

“Pass completed!” Craig crows. “Nice assist, Alodia!” Zahra starts the platform back up again, and they slowly begin descending. Jake grins up at them.

“Nice shot, Skri--” The word seems to get caught in his throat. He grimaces, clutching his ribs. My blood sizzles with alarm.

“Jake? You okay?” He starts to cough, slumping against the crimson leg of the Mech. I cry out. “Jake!”

I hurry to brace him, easing him gently to his knees as the coughs tear from his chest, rough and painful. Michelle is at his other side in an instant.

“It's his lung,” she says grimly. She places a hand on his back as he spasms violently. “Nice, slow breaths, Jake. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Jake struggles to follow her instructions. He trembles violently, his features twisted with pain. I stroke his face gently.

“Just stay with me, okay?” I murmur. “I know it hurts, but just stay with me. Just keep breathing.” In a moment or two, he has managed to get his breath back. He stands unsteadily, giving me a shaky smile when I try to support him.

“I'm all right,” he says hoarsely.

“We need to get out of here now,” I murmur. “You and Sean both need to get someplace safe to rest.” If such a place even exists on this godforsaken island, I don't add.

We start across the room, passing the still-unconscious Aleister as we go. At least, he still appears to be unconscious. I can see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, but he isn't moving. Sean looks mournfully at him.

“...I had hoped he would see the light by now,” he says softly.

In the darkness under the terminal, something else catches my eye. I bend down and withdraw a piece of paper. I unfold it carefully and cast my eyes over a note written in elegant, looping script.

My dearest Grace,

I know we will never speak again, but I wanted you to know how much I regret everything. I caused you so much suffering and for that, I'll never, ever forgive myself. I hope only to live long enough to redeem myself in your eyes.

Yours respectfully,

Aleister

“Yo, Alodia. You coming?” Craig calls. I hastily stuff the note into my pocket. I'll show it to Grace once we're safe. This isn't the time.

“Yeah. Sorry.” I jog to catch up with the others.

“How are we going to escape?” Grace asks uncertainly.

“Same way we came in,” I reply. “Don't worry. We've got a portal that's gonna take us far away from here.”

Zahra abruptly stops short. “Problem,” she hisses. “That Arachnid jerk's in our way.” I look towards the rift on the far side of the room and see Mike standing guard, rifle in hand. His eyes search the shadows for any trace of us.

“That didn't go very well for you last time.” The voice comes from across the room, dryly admonishing. “Step blindly through a door, and you'll suffer whatever consequence lies on the other side.

“Wh-who's voice is that?” Estela whispers.

“It sounded like it came from...” My heart drops as the cockpit of the Omega Mech suddenly floods with light.

“Stay, my friends,” Everett Rourke sneers from within. “And witness history in the remaking.”

“We have the Heart!” Craig taunts, scowling up at him.

“That you do,” Rourke replies. “And I have its power.”

Conduits on the floor flare to life as blue-white energy flows through them, flooding into the Mech. One massive red foot lifts and plants itself ahead of the other, shaking the earth as it lands.

“Everyone run!” I scream. “To the portal! Now!”

“Father!” Beneath the terminal, Aleister has abruptly come around. He struggles against his bonds, staring up at the Mech with horror in his eyes. “Father, what are you--”

“Be silent!” Rourke snarls. “Sit and watch while I do what Prometheus could not! For the fire of the gods is now mine forever!”

A sphere of roiling blue energy hurtles out of the Mech, streaking towards us, expanding as it goes. I close my eyes and throw my hands up in front of my face, instinctively diving. Electric energy stings my skin and sets every hair on my body on edge as a flash nearly blinds me, even through my eyelids. I roll onto my back and pop to my feet. But when I whirl around, I realize that I was the only one who made it out of the way. Jake, Diego, Estela, Sean, Quinn, Raj, Craig, Zahra, Grace, Michelle, Varyyn, and Kele are trapped inside a pulsing, crackling bubble, apparently frozen in place.

“No!” I sink to my knees, my arms wrapped tightly around my own torso as if bound by a straightjacket. It's the only way I could possibly resist the urge to throw my fists against the wall of energy that keeps me from them.

“You're much too concerned with the material, Alodia,” Rourke sneers. “The fleeting. Allow me to liberate you as I've been liberated!”

Within the sphere, my friends are flickering. Fading. The Omega Mech is erasing them from time. One by one, they start to disappear. An inhuman howl of agony and fear tears from my throat.

“Stop!” I double over, sobbing. “Don't do this, Rourke! Please!”

“Grace!” Aleister cries.

“Not to worry,” Rourke purrs. “If you want them back, all you'll need is the rest of the Island's Heart. You see, Alodia, with the Heart's power, time is our plaything. You could not only save your friends, but anyone you wish, once, twice, a thousand times over.”

But I already have...I've already done that...this was supposed to be the last time, the loop that broke the cycle... Suddenly, a more horrifying thought occurs to me. He knows. Rourke knows. He knows who I am. Who I once became. He knows that I am the Endless...

“Imagine it,” he continues, his voice a hiss. “A savior is born!”

Somehow, a frantic clacking breaks through my own screaming thoughts. I turn sharply to see Aleister freed from his bonds and typing frantically into a terminal, a snake-hilted knife clutched in one hand. In front of the portal, Mike abruptly goes limp, slumping to the ground.

“I deleted his programming, Alodia!” Aleister shouts. “Go! Go now!”

I should do as he tells me. But I'm frozen, rooted to the spot. How can I leave without the others? How can I go on alone? Wasn't that why I became the Endless in the first place? ...Is this where it happens?

“Ah, my son,” Rourke purrs. “My greatest mistake. Does it give you a measure of solace to see your father triumph?”

“You were never a father to me!” Aleister snarls. “I ruined everything I cared about trying to make a connection with you! You're no god in the machine! You're just a scared, petty little man hoping to bend the world to his whim!”

“Divide and conquer is the family way, Aleister.”

Aleister's fingers tighten around the knife in his hand as he looks down at the energy conduits. His breath comes out through gritted teeth, each one a hiss.

“...So it is.” In one swift motion, Aleister raises the knife and dives forward, driving the blade into the terminal. A shower of golden sparks erupts from the wound. Wild arcs of blue-white  lightning course across the Omega Mech from the damaged conduit. Rourke screams inside the cockpit and his son screams at the console as electricity surges through them both. A burst of energy throws Aleister onto his back, where he lies twitching, a trail of smoke rising from his body. At that same moment, the blue sphere dissipates, and my friends reappear. All of them are unharmed, all of them are returned. They look around, disoriented. I choke on a sob and throw myself at Jake. He catches me and holds me.

“What the hell just happened?”

“Everyone get to the portal!” Diego shouts. I pull away from Jake and push him toward the rift.

“Go! Everyone go!” We make a break for the rift. Jake stops, seeing Mike unconscious on the floor. He hoists his friend onto his shoulders in one swift motion.

“C'mon, you bastard. You'd better be alive after all this.” He vanishes into the rift. I stand beside the tear and guide my friends in one by one. Jake, Sean, Estela, Quinn, Raj, Craig, Zahra, Michelle, Kele... I turn back to look at Aleister. He moans, turning his head towards me. Our eyes lock.

“You idiot!” Grace screams. I look sharply at her and realize she's looking at Aleister. “You could have died!”

Aleister raises a shaking hand and gestures at the portal. “Go...go while you still can...I'll...hold them off...” As he struggles to turn himself over and get to his feet, Grace grunts in frustration and runs to help him.

“Get the hell up and come on!” she snaps. “We're not leaving without you!”

“Grace...”

“Come on!” She pulls his arm over her shoulder and braces him. They limp together over to the rift and disappear inside with the others. Diego ushers Varyyn through. He is about to go through himself, but he stops and reaches back to grasp my arm, anxiety in his eyes.  

“You're coming too, right? I swear to God, Allie, if I lose you again...”

“I'm right behind you. Promise. Now go!” But just as Diego steps into the wavering portal, I hear Rourke's voice behind me.

“Soon you will understand what you must do, Alodia. But in the meantime, how about a parting...gift?!”

A blue aura bursts to life around the rift. For a moment, I can still see my friends. Then the image begins to distort like a funhouse mirror. The edges of the rift widen to engulf me, and I fall through, my own cry echoing in my ears.

La Huerta

The Eastern Coast

Seraxa, war chief of Elyys'tel, walks purposefully along the strand under the moonlight. On one side of her walks a blue-skinned child with pale, curly hair. On the other, a massive golden-brown feline with fangs like daggers. Seraxa strokes the child's hair gently.

“You and T'kal play on the beach until I return.”

“But I want to go diving!” Taari protests. The sabertooth growls deep in his throat, and it sounds like a sigh.

“Taari,” Seraxa says warningly. Taari sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Fiiiiine. Come on, T'kal.”

“Stay on the sand. Do not go past the cliffs. Do you understand?” Taari picks up a long rope of seaweed and flicks it back and forth over the sand. T'kal drops into a crouch, reaching out with a paw to swipe at it. “Taari! Did you hear me?”

“Yeeeeeees,” Taari sighs, pouting. “I'll stay on the sand, but Seraxa better be safe too!”

Seraxa purses her lips, watching them for a moment. Finally, she sighs, and wades slowly into the water. She lets herself breathe slowly and deeply as the water laps its way up her legs, to her hips, her belly, and finally, her chest. She draws in one more deep breath, and dives. She descends swiftly into sea trench, propelled by her powerful legs, her cat-like vision cutting easily through the dark water. Arriving at a patch of oyster shells along the trench wall, she pulls out her knife and begins carving each one free. She does not rush. She has trained for many years to be able to hold her breath for an impressively long time, even for a Vaanti. She works carefully, her emerald-green warrior braids drifting lazily through the water about her head, floating on the warm currents.

A faint green glow begins to bloom on the trench wall. Seraxa ignores it at first, struggling with the last pair of oysters. She stabs at their bases in irritation, and the motions sends vibrations pulsing through the water. The glow on the trench wall is growing stronger. Seraxa suddenly freezes, her nerves sizzling with a warning. Slowly, she turns.

Three heads loom before her. One blue and angular, with horns and glowing slits for eyes. One scarlet with bulging eyes and a lower jaw full of needle-sharp teeth. One green and finned with a snout like an eel. Three heads on three necks that descend onto one scaled, serpentine neck that descends down into the abyss. And each head is at least three times Seraxa's size.

Half her held breath rushes out in a scream smothered by the water. A flood of bubbles drifts towards the surface. The three-headed Cetus roars from his scarlet head, shaking the trench walls. The remaining oysters tumble into the darkness. For once in her life, Seraxa finds herself paralyzed with fear.

Please, she silently begs. Endless....anyone...preserve me...

The three heads bob in the dark water, three pairs of green eyes contemplating their prey. Slowly, they pull back into the abyss, until even the eerie green glow of their eyes is swallowed by the inky blackness. Seraxa wastes no time in kicking to the surface. She breaches with a greedy breath, turning her eyes towards the shore. A fresh knot of cold fear settles in the pit of her stomach.

The beach is empty. Taari and T'kal are nowhere to be seen. Seraxa rushes ashore, dropping her bag of oysters.

“Taari?!” she cries, desperately scanning the treeline. “Taaaaaaaaaariiiiiiiiiiii!”

Mount Atropo

Several hours earlier...

The Endless kneels stands beside a blazing lava pool, a blue-green glow flickering across her weathered face.

“Don't worry,” she murmurs. “We're going to return your core to you. Isn't that what you want?”

A voice rises from the pit, echoing off the cavern walls. “All is broken...Broken...all...” The taletell click of a gun being readied comes from somewhere behind the Endless.

“Freeze, Red Riding Hood.”

The Endless sighs, a rueful, bitter smile curving her wrinkled lips. “Rex Lundgren. I'd say it was a pleasure, but...”

“I've heard about you,” Lundgren growls. “I've got a rifle trained on your head, so no tricks, or I will end this conversation real quick.”

“What do you want, Mr. Lundgren,” the Endless asks wearily.

“Seems the Island's Heart is incomplete. Where's the rest of it?”

“Scattered...” replies the voice from within the pit. “Lost...”

“I said no tricks!” Lundgren barks.

The Endless curls her mechanical fingers, extinguishing the ball of fire that hovers over her palm. She raises both hands placatingly.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she says calmly.

“Like hell you don't!” Lundgren swings his rifle, slamming the butt against the side of the elderly woman's head. The Endless grunts in pain, sinking to her knees. Gasping, she crawls towards the pit, towards the safety of the magma. Lundgren's hand shoots out to grasp her by the hair on the back of her head. She groans, gritting her teeth.

“Lundgren...”

“Alodia's bringing it to you, isn't she?!” he snarls. “Tell me!”

A spectre materializes beside Lundgren, a pale, gleaming figure, with a dark ball of energy stirring at its heart. The darkness spreads through the limbs of the ghostly entity until it glitters like the night sky. Vaanu takes Lundgren's head into its ghostly hands. Lundgren's eyes go wide. His fingers go stiff and straight, releasing the Endless.

“B-but they're dead. I killed them. All of them!” He whimpers, struggling. “I don't wanna see this...Make it stop, dammit! Make it--”

His voice rises in a scream as he pulls away and flees down a tunnel. Vaanu's arms lower to its sides. It turns an eyeless gaze onto the Endless, still curled on the hot ground, struggling to catch her breath. She looks up at Vaanu, blinking.

“...You...”

The spirit fades, leaving the Endless staring into empty air. She turns to cast a glance behind her at the gleaming pool of magma. Something like remorse flickers across her face. She turns sharply away.

[chain-unchained]

All The World’s a Stage

All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts.

He is a star without an audience, fulfilling his role unseen behind the curtains. One wouldn’t think it, given the elaborateness of his garb—he’s dressed to the part, a phantom in the night. It’s mostly for his own enjoyment, but it’s for one other person’s benefit as well.

The stage tonight is guarded well against intruders. His reputation precedes him; it’s to be expected. He’s a prolific actor, after all, with many fans eager to make his acquaintance before the show even begins.

From his perch atop the roof, he can see them all. And he’s wholly unseen by them. Beneath the pristine white domino mask, he smiles. The night is a cold one, and a bitter wind picks up, catching in the tails of his black tailcoat. Above, the moon shines bright, and the stars beckon him to begin.

Behind him are the glass skylights which will serve as his entrance. He isn’t surprised to find them latched and locked tight. A mere snap of his gloved fingers and the lock undoes it self. If such simple contrivances had worked on him, he wouldn’t be so popular.

 ####

 A length of rope aids his descent down from the skylight, and without a sound he takes a step into the faintly lit room below. He knows the layout of the building by heart, and the patrol routes of the guards as well; there would be one coming by in thirty seconds. Plenty of time.

The shadows guide him, and he flattens himself against them as the guard makes his round. He’s long gone by the time the next one comes.

A choke point presents itself. A T-shaped corridor where the next patrols converge, with no hiding place. Yet he’s prepared for this. The vents make for a bypass that can accommodate his small frame. It’s risky; if he moves too quickly, the thin metal beneath him will creak and groan in protest.

But they’re unwise to his presence, and he’s in no rush, so he takes his time. Arriving at his destination vent a bit later than he’d planned, he can hear the footfalls of boots in the distance. Another smile, his pulse quickening. He fancies himself an improv actor.

Mindful to remain completely out of their lines of sight, he waves a finger through the gaps in the vent. It’s a bit tricky to hit his mark when he can’t see it either, but the sound of boots tripping over laces suddenly undone lets him know he’s found it.

By the time the guard has them laced up, the thief is standing in the shadow of his prize. It glimmers and sparkles in the display light. A singular earring of indeterminate value, cast in platinum and adorned with rare varieties of diamonds almost too small to see. The plaque before the case claims that it once belonged to the defunct royal family.

Its monetary value matters little and less to the thief, though it was definitely a bonus. He’s after it for another reason, and that’s why they’ll never catch him.

The glass covering is trapped, this he knows. The aces from his deck of cards flatten down over the sensors with a wave of his wrist, and the glass is off. In a calculated move, he lifts his prize from its stand.

All the lights come on at once, and an infernal alarm begins to blare. He’s swept off of his feet before he has a chance to blink, dangling by his ankles as a pair of cuffs are slapped onto his wrists.

“I’ve finally caught you, Quincy.”

Quincy flashes another grin at the detective who snapped them on. “You said that the last time, Klein. We both know how that turned out.”

His joke doesn’t find a mark in Klein, who’s wearing a hardened frown upon his stubbled face. “Yes, we do. And I’m not making the same mistake again. Your thieving days are over.”

“Aw, but there’s still so many things I haven’t stolen yet.”

“Please, Quinn.” Klein’s voice is pained. “Just give it up. Let this end. Let this be the last time I have to chase you like this.”

The smile fades, and the mask slips from Quincy’s face to clatter to the ground. He looks at the upside-down detective with eyes colored lilac and brown. “You’re not having fun?”

“Of course I’m not. This may be a game to you, but it’s not to me. Do you know how hard it is to see my friend play a villain?”

“I thought you wanted a villain to chase. To make you famous.”

“I didn’t want it to be you. Please, Quinn.”

Quincy lets his arms dangle down past his head. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” He’s serious. The smile’s nowhere to be found. “I’m down for three life sentences. Things won’t go back to the way they were if you catch me now. Besides… deep down, you enjoy the thrill of chasing me. Don’t you?”

“I… haven’t the foggiest idea of why you think that.”

“C’mon, I’m not stupid.” Quincy’s voice takes on a sultry, playful tone as he continues to gaze up at Klein. “None of the times you’ve let me ‘escape’ have been an accident. You let me go. You want the game to continue.”

Klein feels his sunkissed cheeks heat up at the change in his adversary’s demeanor. “I told you that I’m tired of playing.”

“Oh? So you admit that it’s a game then.”

“Just stop, Quincy! Let me take you in. I’ll find a way to get you leniency in your case if you just cooperate.”

“Leniency?” Quincy feigns surprise. “You mean, you don’t want me to be locked up for the rest of my days?”

Silence is his answer, but he knows the real one. He knows that he’s got Klein right where he wants him.

“Are you hoping that maybe, if I get out early, we can… start over? Go back to the way things were before the academy?”

He reaches up and grips the front of Klein’s coat. “Because… that sounds nice. I didn’t want to give up the goose because there was nothing left for me at the end, but…”

“But… what?”

“But if I have you to look forward to, then, well…”

Klein places his hands over Quincy’s. “You’ll give up?” He’s hopeful.

“… Yeah. Do you promise?”

“Of course. A man never goes back on his word.”

Quincy smiles. “Always so honorable. Could you… do me one favor, though? Before you take me in?”

“What favor?”

His grip on Klein’s coat tightens, and he gives a slight tug. “Close your eyes.”

The detective’s face grows hotter again. He’s never seen this smokiness in Quincy’s eyes before. “… Alright.”

He slides his own emerald eyes closed and holds his breath as Quincy gives his coat another tug. For a brief second, he can feel a hotness close to his face, and his heart begins to race.

Then, it’s gone, and he opens his eyes to find the carefully laid trap empty. “Wh—Quincy?!”

“Haha, you fell for it again!”

Quincy’s voice calls to him from the windows high up above. In disbelief, Klein looks on, and Quincy lightly flicks the earring hanging from his left ear.

“You—you malcontent, that was just plain rude!”

“Aww, were you actually hoping for a kiss?” Quincy winks down at him and slips his mask back onto his face as he opens the window. “Well, a man never goes back on his word, so how about this—you catch me again, and I’ll give you one.”

“God damnit Quincy, get back here--!”

Klein’s demands go unheeded, and Quincy makes his exit, stage left. The guards outside see neither hide nor hair of him as he vanishes into the night, prize in hand, and Klein once again gives chase.

He steals so that this tantalizing game of cat and mouse can continue. The curtains close on this act, and they’ll rise again. Of that there is no doubt.

[fanfic-inator795]

Lego Batman Oneshot: Coon in the Cave

Plot: “How in the world did a raccoon even get in here?!” “Hmph. Raccoons are crafty creatures. They’re pretty much the bandits of the wild. Nature’s ninjas.” “It doesn’t seem all that bad to me.” “Life lesson #4, kid: Always expect the worst from an opponent - even the fluffy ones.”

((Inspired by an episode of The Batman (2004) called “Pets”. Pretty silly but hey, this IS the Lego!Verse so, what did you expect? Lol, anyway, enjoy! ^v^))

It had actually been a slow night for the Bat Family, for once. Criminal activity slowed during the afternoon, giving Bruce enough time to finish up any Wayne Enterprises work he had to do while Dick did some training on his own. The two heroes were even able to make it to supper on time, joining Alfred in the dining room while their cooked (COOKED, not reheated) food was still warm. A rare occasion, indeed!

Unfortunately (yet totally unsurprising) it couldn’t last, and just before Alfred could bring dessert out, the bright Bat-Signal suddenly appeared in the sky, indicating that it was time for the Dynamic Duo to get to work. 

“Sorry, Grandpa,” Dick told him with an apologetic smile as he tied his sparkly cape around his neck. 

Alfred however just waved him off, smiling slightly at the boy in return. “It’s quite alright, Master Dick. Duty calls, after all, and at least the three of us were able to share most of a meal together. You can also be certain that your dessert will still be waiting for you both when you return.”

“Hmph, good,” Batman mumbled as he ran towards the Bat-Mobile, trying to hide his own small smile. Sure, the Caped Crusader wasn’t the biggest fan of sweets, but when it came to Alfred’s, even he couldn’t resist having a couple bites. Honestly, with how good the butler’s desserts were, Batman was a bit surprised that no villain had tried threatening him for his recipes yet. 

Once the two heroes were in their seats and their seat belts were on, the Bat-Mobile roared to life and drove over a gap, up a ramp and through the hidden cave door, leaving Alfred behind as he watched them drive off. “Good luck,” he said quietly. Even after several decades of watching his master work, his feelings of worry and concern never completely went away. Then again, when you’re a father (or even a father figure), that tended to happen. 

Still, Alfred knew how to keep himself busy. Without any hesitation, he took out his feather duster and started dusting, still keeping one eye on the Bat-Computer’s screen just in case. ‘Might as well, while I’m down here,’ the butler thought to himself as the sound of the hidden door closing echoed through the deep cave, ‘and when I’m finished, I’ll head back upstairs and start on the dishes.’

For the first few minutes, everything was normal. There weren’t any other alerts from ‘Puter, and the dusting was just as easy as Alfred knew it would be. However, every so often, he would start to hear a small squeak. A sort of... scurry, maybe?

“Hm?” The older gentleman glanced up towards the top of the cave. A few of the bats were fluttering around, now that they were awake, but it didn’t look like they were causing any trouble. So, Alfred simply gave another small hum before shrugging it off. 

And yet, a few minutes later, he heard the noise again - and this time, he thought he saw something from out of the corner of his eye run into the shadows. “Hello?” he called out. But there was no answer.

Furrowing his brow, Alfred tried to continue his dusting. Though, despite his best efforts, he still ended up stopping every time he heard any sort of noise. A scurry, a growl, the scratch of a claw against rock or metal. He even noticed a couple of the lights start to flicker, as if someone was trying to play some sort of prank on him!

And by this point, the butler had had just about enough. “...Very well,” he mumbled, dropping his feather duster before rolling up his sleeves, “Whoever or whatever you are, if this is some sort of game, then I can assure that it is just about over...

()()()()()()()

“-So you see, you should only really make your hero-themed puns when you’re facing generic bad guys, otherwise you make puns based on the villain you’re fight or whatever scheme they’ve got going on. ...Though, I guess in your case, you’d make hero-themed puns while you’re fighting generic bad guys AND while you’re fighting the Penguin since, you know, you guys are both named after birds.”

“Ahh okay,” Robin nodded, “I think I get it now! Thanks, Batdad!”

Batman smiled back at him. “No problem, kid. Just another piece of great advice from the world’s best-” 

“Grandpa?” 

The Dark Knight blinked. “Uh, well, I was going to say something more like ‘hero-dad’ or ‘amazing vigilante’, but-”

“No, Dad, look!” “Huh?” Looking ahead once more as he stepped on the breaks, parking perfectly on the Bat-Mobile’s usual platform, he saw just what his sidekick/son was talking about. “Alfred?”

“Hm?” The butler - who was currently standing on top of one of the many control panels in the Batcave and using a flashlight to look behind it - looked up. “Oh, uh-”

“What the heck are you doing?” Batman asked as both he and Dick hopped out of the car.

Wanting to look at least somewhat composed, Alfred quickly climbed off the equipment. But even so, he couldn’t help but give a small huff as he started to explain. “Well, I was doing some dusting but, I could have sworn I heard something - or someone - crawling about, so-”

“Wait, an intruder?” the Dark Knight questioned, already getting out a bat-a-rang as he looked around.

“According to their light footing, I’d suspect it were a very small intruder,” Alfred commented, not looking quite as concerned but still annoyed, “It probably got in while the cave doors were open.”

Dick tilted his head a bit, curious. “So... like a mouse, maybe? Or, maybe it was one of the bats?”

“Bats don’t crawl, Master Dick,” Alfred told him, “And besides, it sounded a bit bigger than a mouse. ...And it growled.” Had it been a bit noisier and a bit more destructive, he would have suspected it to be one of Harley Quinn’s hyenas, put in the cave as some sort of joke. But no, their intruder was much sneakier than a hyena. 

So... what was it then?

“Well, as long as it’s not an actual person, I’d say don’t worry about it” Batman shrugged as he put away his weapon. Even if one of his villains could in theory train an animal for spying, it was pretty unlikely. Besides, they hadn’t even seen this creature yet, and he had more important things to take care of. “If it’s not gone already, it’ll probably just find its way out of the cave eventually.”

Alfred sighed slightly. “If you say so, Sir... I just can’t help but feel a bit concerned.”

“Aw, come on, Alfred. What’s the worst thing that could crawl in here? A rat or a possum? Some random bird?”

“Uhh, how about a raccoon?” Dick asked.

Immediately, the two men turned around and saw exactly what Dick was pointing at: A small, scruffy raccoon perched on one of the control panels with a shiny bat-a-rang from the Batcave’s arsenal in its paws.

“...Huh. Guess you were right, Alfred,” Batman said simply while his butler couldn’t help but cringe at the sight of the creature, “That is definitely bigger than a mouse.”

The Boy Wonder on the other hand just smiled at it. “Aww, I think he’s kinda cute! Like a cat, but with a mask and a fluffier tail.” Not wanting to scare it, Dick started to slowly walk towards the raccoon - but was immediately pulled back.

“Oh no, absolutely not!” Alfred told him as he kept a firm grip on Dick’s shoulders, “Master Dick, as... ‘cute’ as it may be, you are not to go near it! You could get rabies! Or fleas.” The elder man grimaced again. “Or both, which would honestly be pretty likely.”

“What, you mean like fleabies?” Batman asked. 

Alfred just gave him a flat look before scoffing slightly. “How in the world did a raccoon even get in here?!” 

“Hmph. Raccoons are crafty creatures,” Batman stated, crossing his arms, “They’re pretty much the bandits of the wild. Nature’s ninjas.” 

“It doesn’t seem all that bad to me,” Dick commented as he continued watching the raccoon, and smiled a bit when it started to cutely chew on the bat-a-rang.

“Life lesson #4, kid: Always expect the worst from an opponent - even the fluffy ones. Still, with my expert capturing skills and amazing lightning-fast reflexes, I’m sure getting this little guy out of here will be no problem at all.” With that, Batman reached into his utility belt, took out a small net-capsule, and slowly walked towards the curious critter. 

The raccoon titled it’s head at Batman, it’s tail rising slightly while the bat-a-rang remained in it’s mouth. “Easy, little guy,” the Dark Knight quietly told it, “Easy now...” Just a couple more steps. Closer... Closer... And-!

The raccoon suddenly growled, dropping to all fours. Of course, Batman had faced tough and intimidating opponents before - much more intimidating than a lost raccoon - but even so the sudden growl still made him flinch, just for a moment. And for the creature, a moment was all it took. 

With a loud squeak, the raccoon leapt off the control panel, running in-between Batman’s legs and across the floor. “I’ve got it, Batdad!” Dick shouted, managing to shake Alfred’s grip off him. The Boy Wonder made a dive for the creature, but just barely missed. “Shoot!”

“Get back here!” Batman yelled. He threw his net capsule, but the raccoon took a sharp right turn and ran down the raised path to the next platform, avoiding the net completely. And, before the trio could try to get anywhere near it again, the sneaky, speedy creature ran back into the shadows. 

Batman growled, admittedly a bit frustrated now. “Ugh, sneaky little ninja...” 

“Well, maybe since he knows that we’re here now and don’t want him around, he’ll escape on his own,” Dick shrugged.

“Or it could just hide itself deeper into the cave,” Alfred added, his frown deepening. 

“Whatever it is, we either have to catch it or make it leave.” Maybe the Dark Knight didn’t care about their little animal-intruder much before, but that was before the little rodent had outsmarted him. And now it was just running around in the Batcave like it owned the place! No way was Batman going to let this go now. “We just need a plan...”

“But he couldn’t have gotten far!” Dick told him, “We just have to split up! I mean, we could he even go-?” 

Before the Boy Wonder could finish his question, the lights above them flickered. ‘Puter’s screen fizzled out slightly before coming back, just as the lights flickered again. “Perhaps it found it’s way to where all the power source wires are,” Alfred dryly suggested, holding back a sigh. 

Batman on the other hand just smirked. “Hey, at least we know where it is now.” In one swift motion, he got out his bat-grappling hook and pointed it towards the far left-side of the cave, where he knew one of their power generators was located. “Come on, guys. Let’s catch us a-”

*WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO-!”

All three of them let out a scream, with Batman even dropping his tool so he could cover his ears. “What happened?!” Dick managed to shout over the alarm, “Which alarm is that for?!”

“Security? I think?!” Batman shouted back, “A little late to give us a security alert now, don’t you think, ‘Puter?!” However, the Bat-Computer didn’t reply. It’s screen simply flashed, occasionally going to static. 

“Ugh, that blasted creature must have chewed through enough wiring to trigger the alarm system!” Alfred exclaimed, “We have to shut it off!”

“I know, Alfred!” Batman shouted back at him, “Just give me a second to-” 

As the vigilante reached for his utility belt, still wincing at the blaring alarm, a new safety feature for the Batcave was activated. And, while it wasn’t another alarm, it was still just as annoying. 

Without any warning what-so-ever, cold water began to rain down from the ceiling, causing most of the bats above to squeak and flutter around. Both Dick and Alfred shrieked in surprise while Batman just clenched his teeth. His cowl might have protected his head from the water, but he could still feel it sinking into his now-cold suit.

“He turned on the sprinklers too?!” Dick shouted as he tried to shield himself with his cape.

“Well, that or it started a fire somewhere!” Alfred replied, already shivering, “And honestly, with how troublesome this raccoon is, it wouldn’t surprise me!” 

“It doesn’t matter!” Batman called back at them, “We can still shut it off!” Again, the vigilante reached for his utility belt. As he pulled a small device out of his pocket, a new noise started blasting from the Batcave sound system. Even with the alarm still going, he could make out the noise somewhat - and that noise just so happened to be music. Specifically, the music Batman played whenever he had a tuxedo dress-up party.

“Oh for the love of - Sir, why is that of all things connected to the Batcave’s main system?!” 

“I prepare for everything, Alfred! EVERY SITUATION! So don’t question my methods! They may be complicated but they still work!” With that, Batman held the device he had gotten out high above him. He pressed the button, and after a few moments things started to slow down.

The music faded out, the sprinklers came to a trickle, and the alarm FINALLY stopped, just as the Batcave went into complete darkness. 

“...Portable Batcave power-killer,” Batman explained, lowering his arm, “Just in case some villain tries to use any of the Batcave’s systems or computers for their own advantage. See Alfred? Every situation. I like I said, it works.” 

“Of course, Sir...” Alfred nodded, his old body relaxing despite the situation. After a couple moments, Batman pressed the device again, and the Batcave slowly came back to life. Unfortunately, only about half the lights came on, and ‘Puter’s screen stayed off. “It seems we’ll have to do some rewiring and rebooting later, Master Bruce. As well as a lot of cleaning...”

But even that seemed like an understatement. Along with all of them, nearly all the floors, furniture and items in the cave were completely covered in water. He was also certain that mixing water with a probably very dirty raccoon would lead to more than a few dirty paw prints and strands of wet fur to find and clean up. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day for the butler...

But, Alfred would worry about that later. “Even with all that racket, I’m sure our intruder’s still in here. If anything, it probably burrowed itself deeper into whatever corner or vent it could find.”

“Ugh, which means it’ll just be that much harder to find...” Batman sighed, “Great. Juuuust great...”

Suddenly, Dick let out a gasp, immediately getting his adopted father and grandfather/butler’s attention. “Oh!” With a grin, he raised his hand.

“...Yes, Dick?” Batman asked, pointing at him.

“Okay so, it would be hard to find him in a big cave like this, and even harder to catch him. Buuuut-” His smile grew, “What if we bring the raccoon to us?”

()()()()()()()()()()()

Thankfully, it didn’t take Alfred very long to whip something up some bait, and soon after the Dynamic Duo finished placing various nets and traps (humane and harmless ones, of course), he returned with a sparkling silver tray that was covered with a shiny metal dome.

“Well, what else is there to say I suppose except for, ‘bon appetite’.” With that, Alfred lifted the cover and revealed a perfectly cooked and seasoned piece of filet mignon (as well as a small side of fresh vegetables and two deviled eggs). 

Batman nodded in approval. “Nice. Good work, Alfred.” His son however just raised an eyebrow at the plate.

“Umm... No offense, Grandpa, this looks great. But... don’t raccoons like to eat garbage?”

“No offense taken, Master Dick. I’m aware of a raccoon’s usual diet. However, I simply figured the better the dish, the more tempting it’ll be.” And besides, digging through garbage definitely wasn’t one of his butler duties, and he wasn’t about to start doing it now even if he was wearing gloves. 

“It’ll be fine,” Batman insisted, “Okay. Both of you in your positions.” His teammates gave him a nod before running to their hiding spots - with Alfred’s being behind a control panel and Dick’s being behind the Bat-Mobile. As for Batman, he simply shot a grappling hook upwards and pulled himself onto the ceiling, where he simply clung to one of the stalactites hidden in the shadows and waited...

They could hear the sounds of scurrying and squeaking echoing around the cave, as well as the occasional clatter or rustle from it getting into something, so they knew that the raccoon was definitely still in the cave. Still, it took nearly fifteen minutes for the creature to make its way to the center of the dark hideaway, sniffing the air as it crept towards the bait. 

“Just a bit more...” The Dark Knight took out another net capsule, and narrowed his eyes. “Come on...”

Perching itself on its hind legs, the raccoon sniffed the plate some more. The humans surrounding it could feel their muscles tense. Almost there... Almost there... Finally, the creature took the filet into its paws and started chewing on it - and any guard or caution it might have had was pushed to the side. 

Now! With a grin, Batman tossed down his net. Unfortunately, even with the distraction, the net still has long enough of a fall for the raccoon to notice it and run off, the meat still in its mouth. 

“I’ve got him!” Dick shouted, hopping onto the roof of the car before making another dive for the creature. And this time, the Boy Wonder actually managed to get a hold of the raccoon’s tail - but unfortunately, the raccoon just dragged him along a bit until its speed and still-damp fur forced Dick to let go. “No!”

As the raccoon continued to run, it unknowingly headed towards one of the traps that had been set up. ...Or, perhaps it did know, considering that just before it could active it, the creature took a sharp left and avoided it completely.

“Oh come on!” Unhooking from the stalactite, Batman began to follow the raccoon from above, hoping for an opportunity to drop down on it. Unfortunately, before that opportunity came about, the raccoon ran into an open AC vent near the racks of Batman costumes - with several of these costumes now containing scratches, bite marks and missing fabric.

Growling, Batman dove down and tried to go after it through the vent himself. Unfortunately- “Argh! Too buff!” he winced as he struggled, just barely managing to pull himself back out of the opening. “Robin! Alfred! It’s coming back towards you!”

“On it, Padre!” Dick replied as he ran, a net already in his hands. He could see the raccoon coming out of the vent, all he had to do was just corner it before it could escape again. “Okay, little guy, it’s time to- AH!” 

“Master Dick, are you alright?!”

“Y-Yeah!” Dick felt his foot slip out from underneath him. The floor of the cave was still wet, and this spot must have been particularly slippery! Still, he managed to catch himself just before he could fall to the ground, but by the time he regained his footing, the raccoon was back on the run. “Awww!” he groaned.

“Just stay focused!” he heard his father shout at him as another trap hidden in the cave actually managed to get activated. Though, instead of a net, it was a huge, blinding spotlight!

Dropping it’s half-eaten meat, the raccoon screeched and ran away from the light. Occasionally it would try turning left or right, but a tossed bat-a-rang or bird-a-rang would make it double-back. There were also more nets and ropes to be snagged on, but the clever creature always managed to either slip past them or jump across them. 

No matter how many traps they laid or how often they tried to grab it, the raccoon still managed to keep running - running all the way up to ‘Puter’s main control panel. It tried to jump up onto the actual panel, but another bat-a-rang thrown its way scared that idea away. 

“Easy now...” “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna hurt you!” The Dynamic Duo stepped closer to it, just barely extending their arms out.

The raccoon suddenly growled, lifting its tail up as it barred it’s teeth and prepared it’s claws. The heroes froze for just a moment before moving their hands towards it just a bit more. The raccoon’s growl got even louder. It crouched down, and-!

*SLAM!*

Without even realizing that there was a third human in the waiting, the raccoon had suddenly been trapped, caught within a silver dome! “YES!” the duo cheered - and they certainly weren’t the only ones happy.

“Ha! Game, set and match, you furry rapscallion!” Alfred said as he held the silver cover down, smirking a bit. 

His two masters smiled at him. “Heh, nice victory one-liner, Alfred,” Batman commented while Dick crouched down, looking at his reflection in the silver as he heard the raccoon growl and whine. 

“Aww, poor little guy...”

“Don’t worry, Master Dick,” Alfred told him, “I can assure you we aren’t going to keep it under a tray cover for any longer than we have to.”

Surprisingly, it was actually easier to put the raccoon into a kennel than it was catching the darn thing in the first place. Once that was taken care of, it was off to one of Gotham’s parks to set it free. 

“Bye, little guy!” Dick grinned as he waved it off. The raccoon just looked at him for a moment before running off behind one of the park’s trash cans. 

“Remember to stay out of the Batcave!” Batman added before turning back to his family. “Man, am I glad that’s all taken care of.”

“As am I, Sir,” Alfred nodded, “Now, I believe you two have some desserts to eat?” That definitely got their attention, with Batman not even trying to hide his excitement. He just ran off towards the Bat-mobile with Dick as Alfred followed from behind. 

However, as he walked, he couldn’t help but add under his breath, “And hopefully that is the last raccoon-intruder instance we’ll have to deal with.” Though, after having to deal with it for a few hours, the old butler had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time it caused trouble for someone...

()()()()()()()()()()

“Absolutely not!” “No way are we keeping it!” “Don’t you have enough pets, woman?”

“Aww, come on!” Harley Quinn pleaded, holding the slightly squirming raccoon in her arms, “Look at this cute little gal, she’s adorable! Look, she’s got a little mask and everything! Raccoons are pretty much the thieves of the animal world, so she could be our own little rogue mascot!”

“But it dug up my flowers!” Poison Ivy argued, narrowing her eyes.

“And stole berries from my birds!” the Penguin squawked angrily. 

“It scratched up one of my coins too!” Two-Face added, “After it tried stealing it!”

“And don’t forget how it chased my poor kitties!” Catwoman hissed.

“...Okay but, other than those things, name one thing that would be wrong with keepin’ her!”

“Ugh, what are you guys arguing about now?” The group turned around to see the Joker - hair slightly messy and eyes tired after spending a whole day planning for his next big scheme to cause funny chaos and defeat Batman. Unfortunately, before any of the villains could give any details, Harley skated over and held the raccoon up for her clown BFF to see. 

“Boo-Boo, don’t you agree that we should keep this gal around?” she asked, “She just wandered in here lookin’ for some food, so why not keep her?”

The Clown Prince of Crime gave a hum as he stared at the masked creature. “Weeeell, I don’t know... another animal could really put us into a tailspin if it’s too much trouble.” The raccoon wagged its tail a bit, and the Joker gave it a toothy grin. “But, on the other paw, you can’t furry love, and this cute raccoon’s already got ME over the coon about it!”

Unable to help themselves now, the two clowns just laughed as loud as they could. And, as they started to pet their new furry accomplice (still giggling and grinning all the while), the other villains simply groaned - both at the bad comedy and at the fact that they would be stuck with another one of Harley’s pets. 

It didn’t even matter if they tried to argue now. Once the jokes and puns started, they knew that they had already lost.

THE END