Chapter 8: Something, Someone

Many years previous...

As Dick Grayson held his head in his small hands, tears escaped from his eyes; the same eyes that had witnessed his parent's death only hours earlier. If he had noticed the stripping rope in time, he would have both his mother and father with him.

Jim Gordon was an older man, grey beginning to speckle his dark hair. As he sat next to young Grayson in the audience seats, Dick could smell the man's cologne.

"It had to be that guy," Dick began as he lifted his head, "he threatened Mr. Haly. I saw him come out of the tent. I tried to tell my folks, but-" he paused, "but..."

"Okay, son," Jim said, consoling the boy.

"Hey, Gordon, you should come take a look at this," beckoned another police officer. As Jim neared the officer, a voice called out from behind him.

"What will happen to the boy?" Bruce Wayne asked, his eyes full of sympathy. It had been decades earlier that Gordon was aiding Wayne in the murder of his own parents, when he himself was just a child. "Does he have anyone?"

"No, it appears that he does not," Gordon responded, looking down to the ground.

"Uh, I'm not so sure about that, boss," the officer added, holding what looked to be a baby carrier. Beside him was a young girl with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, her arms crossed, almost as if she were giving herself a hug. Bruce steps towards the girl, kneeling down so they met at eye level.

"What is your name?"  The girl asked.

"Bruce Wayne," he replied, "and what is yours?"

The girl's eyes darted to the baby carrier before hesitantly answering, "Jane Ashland. In the carrier is my baby sister, Bridget. My parents a-" she paused, taking in a sharp breath, "-are named Henry and Margot Ashland. They were the fire breathers. We were supposed to perform tonight just after the Flying Graysons, but when I woke up this morning, they were gone."

Bruce looked into the carrier and was shocked with what he found. "White hair, huh?"

Jane gave an awkward chuckle before clarifying, "yeah, my parents say she's special, with hair the color of snow. I say she looks like a grandma."

He smiled and glanced back to Dick, who was staring absently at the trapeze lines above. Standing up, Bruce turned to Gordon.

"Apparently the girls have an uncle here in Gotham who is willing to take them in while we investigate their parents' disappearance," Gordon explained, "the boy, however-"

"I can help with that." Bruce said with full confidence.

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Current Day...

"I can help!" I insist, although lacking complete confidence.

"No, you can't!" Dick shouts, long legs carrying him to the door of the gym. I've been training almost everyday for a month now. I've learned to channel my anger through sparring matches and my frustration through miles-long runs outside the manor.

Later tonight, Dick, Kori, Gar, and Raven will go undercover into the Iceburg Lounge, which is the Penguin's, otherwise known as Oswald Cobblepot's, main base of operations. This mission has consisted of weeks of planning and many sleepless nights. Apparently, a shipment was recently stolen from the docks, containing an array of weapons and armor meant for the Gotham Police Department. Instead, it now belongs in the hands of the highest bidder. From what we've gathered through a few reconnaissance operations, the crate is being kept below the nightclub, heavily guarded by goons.

"I've advanced well in my training and I've demonstrated progress with my abilities. I've proved to be more than capable of handling a run-of-the-mill search and seizure!" I reply angrily, fists clenched at my sides.

"You're not getting it," Dick answers begrudgingly, "there are certain things only experience can prepare you for, in which you have very little. I'm doing this for your own safety -- you're benched."

My eyes could bore holes through Dick's skull with how intense I'm glaring at him. He's not telling me something, I can feel it. I've grown to know him well enough to be aware of when he is lying.

"He's going to be there tonight, isn't he?" I interrogate, my voice low.

Dick only stares back at me, face devoid of emotion. "Who?"

"You know who."

He sighs and steps away from the door, approaching me. "He's dangerous, and you're a liability. If he gets a hold of you again, I-" he stutters, "I wouldn't know what to do, what he may do."

"What you need to do," I begin, "is trust me when I say I'm ready. We don't even know for sure that he'll be there, right?"

Dick scoffs, "a whole crate full of weaponry, and you really think there's even the slightest chance he won't come to claim it?"

"Who knows? There's been radio silence on his end for weeks. Maybe he's gone into an early retirement?" I joke half-heartedly.

Dick laughs dryly and pinches the skin between his eyes. After a few moments of silence, he lets out a deep breath and looks up. "If I agree to this, promise that you'll try to stick by my side for the duration of the mission, all things considered?" He extends a hand, waiting for me to take the deal.

I slip my palm into his and shake, needing no words to convey that I understand.

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As I adjust the brunette wig that rests atop my head, Raven's voice chimes through my ear comm.

"Gar and I are in position near the west entrance. Kori?"

"All is well here. I'm near the back stairwell. Waiting on your signal, Dick." Kori replies.

I'm dressed head-to-toe in streetwear, which totally contrasts my previous lab-given outfit from my days in captivity. Dick stands besides me, wearing a similar style. His face has been disguised with faux-facial hair, a beanie concealing his dark hair.

"Almost ready," Dick answers, the loud music practically drowning his voice out. The two of us maneuver through the crowd, keeping our heads low as we do so. I have yet to spot Jason in the crowd, which leaves me feeling uneasy.

He has to be here somewhere.

Suddenly, the crowd begins to cheer, erupting into a frenzy of excitement.

"What's going on?" Gar's voice inquires.

"I'm not sure," I respond, equally confused. Bright, flashing lights attack my line of sight, jumping bodies and fists pounding the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone in between, I'm so glad you could all make it!" A voice booms from the middle of the raised dance floor. Standing on my tiptoes, I'm able to make out a figure standing next to the large ice sculpture in the center.

"Penguin," Dick hisses, "was supposed to be downstairs, negotiating prices for the stolen shipment."

Penguin continues, "as many of you may know, the Iceburg Lounge loves to have... special guests grace its walls every now and then. Tonight, I have brought you guys a real treat!" The crowd parts at this, a tall frame breaking the sea of people.

"Oh, my God. It's him," Gar stammers, his voice wavering.

Stepping on to the stage is the Red Hood, his helmet intact. At his hips are pistols, but different from the ones I've run into before. These are a glossy black and much larger, posing a deeper threat to those unfortunate enough to stare down their barrels.

Jason towers over the Penguin, completely dwarfing him. The crowd is reduced to low murmurs and cautious whispers. Although he has yet to say a word, the Red Hood still instills fear.

His mechanic voice is heard throughout the entire building. "Some of you may know of me, and to those unfortunate enough to not, well," he pauses, noticeable dread filling the atmosphere, "tonight is your night.

"I am looking for something, someone. This person is extremely dangerous and has no limits. If somebody were to hand over this person, alive, they would be rewarded graciously."

"Dick?" Kori says worriedly.

"It was a trap. They knew we would be here. We have to get out of here, now." Dick responds, arm now clutching my elbow.

"How gracious are we talking?" A voice yells out from the crowd.

Jason raises his chin and proudly declares, "what does 7 digits mean to you?" A collective gasp escapes from the entirety of the club.

My eyes widen as phones around me ding and chime, their bright lights becoming beacons in the dark room. I peer over my shoulder at the person behind me, their phone opened up on a photo of a girl -- of me. The more I scan what's around me, the more I see my mugshot illuminated on phone after phone.

I look up at Dick frantically, his face twisted with panic and anger. He begins to tug me through the crowd, past money-hungry party goers. Just as we're about to push through the door to leave, I turn around one last time, to get one last look at the Red Hood.

I almost jump back when I see he's already fixated on me, hands resting readily on his pistols. He tilts his head to the side, shaking it ever so slightly. I'm frozen in fear, in rage. Of course he would know it was me, that I would be here.

"Come on, let's go!" Dick whisper-shouts at me. I turn back towards the doors, and when I look back at the stage seconds later, Jason is already gone.

Not only do I now have to worry about the Red Hood hunting me, but now all of Gotham's criminals as well.

That's practically the entire city!

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(A/N):

I know, I know! This took me forever to update. I've been in a terrible writing slump for the past few weeks. I plan on becoming more frequent with my updates, although expect them to be at random times LOL.

I know this chapter may be a bit disappointing, but I'm hoping the next one involves more interaction between Elle and... you know who.

Love you guys,

<3 M

(P.S. watch the movie Red Eye! IT IS SO GOOD!)