Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Justice League Earthbound Headquarters

A man sits at a large round table surrounded by the greatest powers in the world. His hands folded in front of his face shield the only piece of skin that can be seen in his costume as he leans with his elbows on the table. A tall stack of papers sits in front of him.

“Thank you all for gathering here. I know we've been busy lately. It seems like our problems only multiply by the day. With that in mind, I don't wish to waste anyone's time, so let’s begin.” He takes a deep breath, attempting to maintain his calm facade, before standing up and walking away from the table with his back to the other six heroes. “Israa Khaled Abdel Fattah Qataif. Age: 28. Born 1995-05-18. Female. Identification number: 400707527. Fairouz Khamis Bakr Al-Ghafri. Age: 28. Born 1995-05-19. Female. Identification number: 400707444. Naji Mohammed Azzo Obaid. Age: 29. Born 1995-05-09. Male. Identification number: 400706719. Warda Jamal Alyan Saleh. Age: 28. Born 1995-05-11. Female. Identification number: 400706479. Osama Ahmed Hassan Abu Arja. Age: 28. Born 1995-05-12. Male. Identification number: 400706131. Iman Rafiq Mustafa Al-Jafarawi. Age: 29. Born 1995-05-09. Female. Identification number: 400705414. Fadi Mohammed Ahmed Al-Sharif. Age: 5. Born 2017-12-29. Male. Identification number: 400000550. Marine Valef - Marinov. Age: 51. Born: 1973-11-11. Male. Identification number: 389561765. Mohammed Mukhlis Darwish. Age: 0. Born 2024-03-01. Male Identification number: 235226.” He returns to the papers with his face turned down to the ground. “That's all that remains of these people. These children, wives, husbands, fathers, mothers, grandparents…” He stops for a moment holding back rage and despair trying to remain stoic, but the cracks are beginning to show. “There's 100 on each page. 854 pages… That's just who they could identify. The true cost of this so-called war is likely totalled in the hundreds of thousands and it's only getting worse with every passing day. That doesn't account for the dead still left unidentified or unreported, the human rights violations, or the torture campaign currently ongoing which Israeli officials have made abundantly clear is intended to break the Palestinian people before wiping them out entirely… We are staring at the tipping point of a genocide… I understand our position in the past has been to stay out of wars because our involvement may embolden certain groups or individuals to launch antagonistic strikes they wouldn't have otherwise if they didn't think they could hide behind the protection of the League. The logic was sound. But, we're dealing with a situation we've never dealt with before and I feel it's time to cast a vote on whether or not we step in and how we do so.” Batman rests his hand on the six inch tall pile of paper.

John Stewart is the first to chime in. “I understand the desire to stop these deaths. If I could, I'd wrap the whole country in a construct and just leave them there protected from the bombs, but it's not that simple for me. Interference with the will of the people and politics of a planet is strictly forbidden by The Corps. Alien invaders, I can handle. A tyrannical ruler of a planet that the people want removed? Probably. But, a war that an unfortunate number of people still support including multiple nations providing weapons to continue the bloodshed? I'd have to get approval from The Guardians and getting them to bend the rules or act based on simple loss of life is easier said than done. As far as they're concerned, anything less than planetary conflict is just a part of life. Even if I tried to step in, they'd just come down and cause problems or send the Manhunters, the Third Army, or some new abomination to make things worse. I'll support whatever decision the rest of you come to, but I can't be directly involved.” The Lantern looks to the rest of the table, unable to make eye contact with Bruce.

Aquaman furrows his brow and takes a drink from his cup before he starts. “I am King of Atlantis. If I drop into the Middle East to fight an army, it's not just one man's will, it's a declaration of war between nations. Any nations allied with Israel would be forced to retaliate against Atlantis in every way they can and any nations allied with Atlantis would be obliged to retaliate against those countries in turn. Any nations allied with both would have to pick a side or risk losing the benefits of their alliance with both. It would be the start of world war three and the planet is already on the verge of destruction. The lives lost would total in the tens or hundreds of millions rather than the hundreds of thousands. I hate to see these people suffer, and I'll do everything in my power to get them the help they need, but that must be through the political arena rather than through sheer brute force and it must be handled delicately.” He sits back in his seat with his hand on his forehead. “I’ll exercise my political leverage to push other nations to turn on Israel and I'll ensure aid delivered through international waters, MY waters, travels safely until it enters another country's territory, but I have to be cautious about how I address this.”

Wonder Woman contemplates Arthur's words carefully. “They’re right, Bruce. I fought a war like this once before. We lost a lot of brave men and women. As a representative of Themyscira and with my ties to America, if I step in, it would not only draw more innocents into the conflict, but it could kick off a global scale war, escalate the conflict in ways we can't contain, and potentially even draw in the power of the Gods to make things worse. I love the Palestinians, their culture, their aspirations, their food, their history, and their fight for equality in an apartheid state. My sister lost her life in Palestine. If it were an isolated situation, I'd go in with you and save as many lives as possible, but even if we moved quickly, took out all their leadership, and took the nuclear option off the board, we'd still be moving billions of people into harm's way. I can't risk their lives. Mine? Yes. Ours? Okay. We signed up for the risks and we all gladly accepted them. But, I'll need to handle this through my position with the UN if we want to see minimal casualties.” Her shoulders hunch forward as even she hates the words coming from her mouth right now.

Barry shifts in his seat looking at the rest of the group as he processes their words. “Well, I trust Batman. I don't know how we can get involved without making things worse, but if Bruce thinks there's a way, we should hear him out.” He fidgets as he stares at the stack of papers.

Manhunter looks around the table with a blank expression on his face. “I believe the risk may be worth it. A Holocaust rarely ends with the eradication of all members of a species, a nation, or a clan. There are often remnants. For every Superman, there is a Darkseid. For every J’onn there is a Lobo. For every Batman, a Joker or a Red Hood. Stopping this genocide now would not only be morally right and endlessly appreciated by the people of Palestine, but it may also prevent a great evil from rising from the ashes. One that we may be even less equipped to handle than a potential global conflict. I vote in favor of intervention. If that means I burn alongside them, then so be it.” He folds his arms and looks to Batman with a smile.

Bruce looks Clark in the eyes. “I believe that's 3-3. Your vote breaks the tie, Kal-El.” Bruce is seething under the mask. He already knows what the Man of Steel will say. “Come on, Bruce. Don't be like that. You know we all want to help, and we will. But, we can't go into this alone. Even if we called in every Leaguer around the world, we'd be putting everyone in the world in more danger. We'd get the rest of the Palestinians killed in the process and millions more on top of that. Even if I showed up alone, I'd be pulling every superhero, every American, and every alien into the cross hairs with me. I'd be stoking the fires of antisemitism. And I'd be bringing my enemies with me to the region which would make everything even worse.” Bruce glares at Superman. “Tell me these people really need a man who gets tracked down by the likes of Zod, Brainiac, Mongol, Doomsday, and Darkseid on a semi-regular basis punching an alien through what remains of their cities while a man like Lex builds their normal human enemies a super suit army to slaughter them with!” Bruce holds up a hand and Clark calms back down. “The others are right, Bruce. We can't get involved in a direct confrontation taking down soldiers and toppling a regime without collateral damage and probably even worse outcomes for the victims due to the inherent dangers we bring. Meanwhile, our cities, countries, and galaxy would be in more danger while we're away from our duties.”

Batman slumps back into his chair. “Fine. No direct intervention. We'll just keep losing lives while we attempt to drag the world's politicians out of their vacations and bribes into a more peaceful resolution by making them do their jobs. After all, who would want to fight Nazis directly?” He stares pointedly at Diana.

“That was different, Bruce.” Diana starts.

“Not different enough.” Bruce continues. “Now, since I thought ahead and knew just how by the books you'd all want to handle this, I took the liberty of making plans and forcing your hands.” Looks of confusion, fear, and anger spread through the room. Bruce smiles, but doesn't give anyone the chance to interject as he begins to walk away without another word.

“Bruce, what did you do?” Diana glides over to him and stands in his path.

“Watch the hologram to find out.” He grapples the Batwing as it passes overhead and flies away quickly.

She rolls her eyes. “Does he always have to be so dramatic?” She turns to Clark.

“Unfortunately, I think so.” He grimaces.

The remaining Leaguers stand around the table as a hologram of Batman projects from the center. “Thank you all for staying around for an extra moment. I'll wrap up quickly, but for that to happen I needed no interruptions. G.L. you're taking point on leadership of the League. J’onn will run dispatch to assist you and your extra responsibilities when you're off world. I've asked Teen Lantern and M’Gann to patrol your usual routes in your cities and given them coms to link them to both of you individually should the need for backup exceed their capabilities. Flash, I've been donating to fill trucks full of food and medicine to the people of Gaza. You will ensure that they make it safely to the border and then you will guard them until such time as the borders reopen. You'll be capable of removing threats non-violently and without being caught on camera as well as delivering the aid directly into the hands of the people during times that the borders are open without getting stuck when the borders close again or struck by military ordinance. While you're away, I've asked Wally to handle Central City. I know I can trust you with this mission. Aquaman, you've consistently been willing to threaten war in the past and your people have the ability to make trade very difficult for most of the world. You will be spending the rest of your year visiting foreign leaders to aggressively negotiate with them. Your kingdom will be well protected by the combined efforts of Kaldur and Supergirl. I'd prefer not to have to threaten you since you're more likely to be cooperative without it, but if you should happen to refuse, keep in mind that I know and I can tell.” Arthur's eyes close and he turns to leave. “Finally, Diana. You have a new position with the UN. Turns out, Ms. Candy has some bizarre connections and earned that debate team captain title very thoroughly, and Nubia as queen can pull a fair amount of strings, so you've gone from an honorary position and a frequent guest speaker to an Ambassador to the United Nations. Congratulations. Donna, Cassandra, and Yarra will handle your usual work load as a team to ensure it's done.” The hologram smiles. “Batman out.” The hologram turns off.

“He? Missed me?” Superman looks at the table in confusion and then turns his attention to Flash. Just then, his phone begins to ring. It's Lois. He answers. “Hey, Honey. Are we still on for dinn-”

Lois cuts him off. “No time, Smallville! The Bugle is under new ownership and I'm on my way to the airport for assignment IN Palestine! Can you BELIEVE it?! Mind flying me over so we can save costs on the ticket? They gave me a company card, but you're faster and cozier anyways right?”

Clark closes his eyes and they begin to glow red under the lids. “Ah, that's great, Honey. I'll be right over.” He takes off flying after Lois knowing if he takes too long she'll get impatient.

“Barry! I need your phone.” Diana holds out her hand and Flash passes it off to her. She dials a number and pulls the phone to her ear. “Hey, Dick… No. I actually need a favor. Get the rest of the family and meet at the Cave. He'll be there soon and we've already tried to talk him down.”

Chapter Text

Batcave

As Bruce arrives back at the cave he's met by the sight of his family in costume and covering the cave. He rejects from the vehicle and drops to the ground without a word. “Bruce, stop.” Selina orders.

“Are you going to make me?” He stands waiting for a response. “We could!” She announces loudly. “You couldn't.” He stares back at the family he's built. The air is tense and thick. Even the bats fall silent deep in the caverns. They're all ready to fight him to make him stay. He's trained most of them in everything they know, watched them all grow and fight through the years, and he's far more experienced than any of the rest of them. He's even beaten a few of them unarmed while they used signature weapons. But, they do each represent some of the best talent in the world and it would require that he go all out. Something he’s very proud of them for.

He turns sharp to the right and begins to walk down the path collecting equipment as he goes. Selina, Damian, and Helena roll their eyes in unison and the group begins to follow Batman through the different levels of the cave.

Stephanie rushes after him. “This is a war. You can’t stop a war on your own. The whole big, mean, and spooky thing only really works on a person to person level and through word of mouth through a city. You’re not going to scare Nazis into not firing off missiles.”

Without looking at her he simply replies, “That depends on who I break and how.”

“Father, they believe they have God on their side. You’re not going to be able to hurt them badly enough to give up without having to kill them. They’re fighting countries.” Damian reprimands.

“They’re fighting countries with rules and a desire for peace. Not a force that desires vengeance and can pick locks.”

Katherine drops in front of Bruce holding out a hand to stop him. “You can’t be a hero of the universe, much less Gotham if you’re overseas for the next year to ten. This isn’t the kind of thing you can just walk in and fix overnight. It’s the kind of thing that ends with you dead just like my parents. Killed in cold blood by terrorists with children at home who fucking need you.” He grabs her wrist and twists forcing her to flip out of the hold and walks past her.

“Do you suddenly have a nuke-proof cape? What the hell do you think you’re going to do to keep yourself from getting blown up by a drone strike? Even YOU have to sleep sometime and whether you sleep in your cape or not, the moment they hit you with their god forsaken spray and pray method of using every weapon at their disposal, you’ll die if it’s higher than a 45 caliper round.”

Bruce scowls. “Got it. Don’t get hit by bullets in a warzone.” He smiles leaving Jason pinching the bridge of his nose.

Barbara wheels herself up to his side. “What about Gotham?” “You’ll have it covered.” He grapples to three levels higher having guided her halfway between the two nearest wheelchair lifts in the cave and leaving her alone as the rest of the family except Alfred grapples to the same level right after him. “Really? Very Mature! What’s the next move?! INSTALLING STAIRS!?!?!” She shouts as she pushes the wheels harder to catch up. Alfred stops in his tracks and starts to wander back to the main computer with the same eye roll as his daughter in-law and grandchildren.

Selina moves to trip him so he’ll stop moving for just a moment, but he rolls forward and back to his feet even further ahead of where he was. “We just barely got things relatively peaceful in Gotham so we could have some time as a family together. Are you going to go throw that all away for an impossible fight?”

“It’s a neverending battle, Selina. It doesn’t matter that it seems impossible. It needs to be fought or they’ll never get the chance you say I’m throwing away.”

A shadow drops in front of him from a higher level and he’s face to face with BlackBat. Batman raises his arms to defend himself. Her speed has always been impressive. In their sparring sessions she was one of the only ones he ever really had to push himself to keep up with and she was one of the only ones with a majority of her training not done by his hand. Then, she launches herself forward. In the blink of an eye, she’s wrapped around his chest in a tight bearhug. Dick steps in front of him while Cassie holds him in place. His arms fall and he lets himself be soft with her giving her a gentle hug back.

“Bruce, I get it. Really. But, I need you to take a step back and look at what you're walking into. You can't save them all by getting yourself killed trying to fight an entire military that kills indiscriminately. The world needs Batman. Every time you leave Gotham things get worse. A mission with the Justice League is one thing, this would be years of your life trying to end this if you even survive. If you're caught over there, you could cause an international incident. You're in pictures with the Justice League and everyone knows home base is Gotham. This move would pick a fight with Israel and any nations that support them against America and who knows how many people would die as a result?” Dick gestures to the room. “How many Gothamites are you willing to see nuked tomorrow? We have to be smart about this. Duke needs you to keep training him to his full potential, Cassie needs you to keep making this place a home. Tim and Steph are vulnerable right now and they need your protection with the newborn. Jason needs your guidance. You're the lynchpin. If you go, everything will get worse. Leaving would mean leaving your wife and daughter, possibly forever. Besides, even if you were successful, how did you intend to blend in on the mission? Six foot tall white guy with a crazy body kinda stands out like a sore thumb over there. Even if you show up as a new dark knight without the Bat logo, it would be pretty easy to find you in the middle east. And when both Bruce and Batman disappear for a few years and a man made of shadows shows up in Israel to destroy IDF agents and a man who looks oddly like Bruce Wayne is caught in the background of someone's pictures or video over there, it'll be pretty easy to find out your secret identity. That's if you're not captured and unmasked by a whole army.”

Damian interrupts. “It should be Grayson and I. Nobody would notice if another Robin went missing and Damian Wayne could easily just be busy at a boarding school where the Press would never find me.”

Dick puts his hand on Damian's shoulder. “And while I'm away Dick Grayson can be dealing with some family business. Nobody would question if I was gone for a few years.”

Bruce corrects him. “Bludhaven would probably notice that their resident superhero went missing in action, Dick.”

“Well, that's why Nightwing will still be around. We'll just give Jason the costume. He knows all of my moves, fights just about as well, and he'd fit pretty well into my absence. Besides, Damian and I could make new civilian identities and blend in well with the local population, saving who we can by acting as medical during the day, and turn public opinion against the Israeli government by posing as Palestinian superheroes saving both the Israelis and the Palestinians to inspire them to turn against their government and while we're at it, we can sabotage their attacks to save as many Palestinians as possible while you and the rest of the League play your roles in ending the war from outside.”

Bruce stops to ponder the proposition. “You know his points are valid, Father. We’ll be able to do more good for the region than you would and we’ll be harder to target. In the event we were trapped in a collapsed building, a small ninja and a circus performer would be a lot more likely to make it out alive than a six foot tall, broad shouldered, legacy superhero who would have to lift the rubble just to escape. You’re more needed here anyways.” Damian lectures.

“I hate to admit it, but this is the best path we have.” Helena finally interjects. “I heard your plan for the League. It’s smart. Flash can deliver food and supplies while circumventing any alleged terrorists who could use it to extort the people. Aquaman can threaten other nations into complying with the law or facing war on their shores while keeping activists safe. Superman in the region undoubtedly means they’ll have to pull their punches and he’ll get more involved when he’s an instant away from the danger, while Lois acts as a lightning rod for their attention while she builds the kind of story that swings hearts and minds. Wonder Woman has a way with people, so she can probably convince the UN that the only way to fight antisemitism and keep war away from their doorsteps is to make moves against Israel. Manhunter can run intel. Lantern can keep the heroes working with military precision while you’re away. The only part of the plan that’s stupid is the part where you get involved.” She steps up to Bruce looking up at his face. “They don’t need Batman. They need Bruce Wayne. No matter how much you run from that identity, it’s actually pretty fucking useful when you use it responsibly. They need donations to keep running smoothly,”

“Tim and Alfred can handle that.”

“So can you and I’m not finished. They need America to step out of its role as a supplier for Israel and America just became a plutocracy. A system where trillionaire Bruce Wayne and just a handful of other wealthy elites holds all the power. Not to mention, you’re Gotham’s favorite son and we make a whole lot of the world’s goods right here in factories that make our air chewy. If you stand up against Israel AS Bruce Wayne, it might actually have more impact than if Batman showed up and started attacking gun toting soldiers. Not to mention you can build legal cases against them, the city, and the government to force their hands on issues they’d never pull back on if they had their way.” She looks at Damian sad that they just started to get along and now he’s going away. “And their plan is more likely to save more lives in the long run. They’re your two best soldiers for the mission. Things are going to change over there. They’ll respond to anything we do. They’re quick on their feet, normal people, good as a team… They’ll save lives if you let them. But, we need to be willing to make sacrifices here and going in to hurt people isn’t a sacrifice for you. It’s a practiced skill. Sending them to do what you can’t IS. They’ll lead the world to brighter days.” She places a hand on her father’s arm. “Stay.”

Bruce’s resolve falters. “Fine.” He clenches his jaw unable to think of a valid rebuttal. She was definitely his child. Stubborn and often right. A frustrating combination. “When will you two be ready?” He asks in defeat, finally pulling off the cowl and getting ready to attack the problem from a new angle.

“Give me the night to work with Alfred on costumes and identities. Then, in the morning after Damian has learned everything to know about the situation we can both get some rest on the way over, arrive about mid-day in the heart of the conflict without being detected, and then set up a base of operations so we can stay as safe as possible while we handle the problem by nightfall and then we’ll make our debut fighting crime in Israel before turning in for the night and then getting back up to treat the wounded as bombing starts to ramp up the next night.” Nightwing starts to walk back to the main computer.

“Fine. But, I want communication a minimum of once every eight hours, disguises and aliases run by me in the morning, and a main bunker dropped into the ground so it remains inconspicuous.” Bruce begins to dawn his suit and tie from one of the drawers by the staircase. “We’ll reconvene at 7 A.M. sharp.” He walks into the manor with Selina right behind him.

“Alfred.” Dick turns. “Yes, Master Dick.” “Time to bring your A game. What do we have for a couple Palestinian superheroes?”

Chapter Text

Hours pass and the heroes work into the early hours of the morning ensuring they’re doing everything they can to keep their brothers safe and to help the cause.

Dick and Alfred work on designs, names, and backstories and Damian reads about the genocide, military structure, and procedures. Dick creates a suit based on Dolichophis Jugularis AKA the Large Black Whip Snake native to Palestine and surrounding areas. All Black with a reflective chrome look and made of a flexible scale mail Silicone Carbide Composite Metal Foam Alloy set in Urethane Resin to be able to be fixed on the move if needed and providing high fire and bullet resistance while allowing full range of motion. For added protection, the suit utilizes forearm blades with a thicker armor encasing the surrounding area. The Mask is a full respirator shaped like a flattened version of the nose and mouth of the Whip Snake complete with reflective, round, black eyes. Code named Zoureg Suit. Meanwhile, Damian creates a more simple suit based on Daboia Palaestinae AKA The Palestine Viper. An all black basic body armor covered in diamond and zig-zag patterns finished off with a light brown mask to stand out against his darker skin with grey contact lenses with advanced technology inside. Code named Falak Suit.

Barbara gives the boys one last hug before heading to the Clock Tower to hack American radar systems and cause chaos to keep eyes off the skies so takeoff and the flight over the Atlantic goes completely unnoticed. Jason packs their supplies as he worries about whether Dick’s trust in him is well founded or not. Secretly, he packs his pistols and a combination of live and non-lethal rounds into one of the compartments just in case they need it, leaving the capsule lighter than he entered it.

Helena sets to work on modifying batarangs for use as “Fangs” by clipping them in half, sanding down the top and bottom to curve in the same direction, and chemically treating and plating each one with 14k palladium white gold to give them the proper look. After handing them off to Alfred to conceal them within hidden compartments of the suit she returns to work and constructs four small knives from 3D printed synthetic solid bone so they can sneak through checkpoints without setting off metal detectors while staying safe.

Selina and Bruce return after making calls to Senators and Generals within Bruce’s sphere of influence and making several videos to be sent out in the morning to news stations as a call to action. Then, they begin to build the shelter that will keep their sons safe in the coming months.

Tim bounces his baby to sleep in a sound proofed room while he hacks into Israeli and Palestinian systems to add Dick and Damian’s new identities into their systems without setting off alarms or raising suspicion and lets Stephanie pass out for a few hours before she gets back up and helps to put the finishing touches on the suits to make sure they’re friendly enough beyond the cultural elements and pragmatism. Then, coaches the boys with Alfred on their Arabic.

Soon, Damian finishes his review and follows Stephanie back to Tim and the baby to retrieve their IDs. Picking them up from the table he walks over to Tim and places a hand on the top of the sleeping child’s head. He looks at Tim, cringes, then at Stephanie. “Brown, please take care of these two. They’re both too helpless to be on their own.” He turns and walks past Jason with a silent nod only to get knocked in the back of the head by a pen from Tim, still rocking the baby gently in his arms.

In the morning Duke enters the cave with Bruce to test the shelter before he gets ready for school. After assuring it’s safe from explosives from all classes and The highest ratings they should expect in the war zone as well as basic attacks from tanks and tractors, he turns to Damian and the two of them awkwardly attempt a handshake/fistbump. Then, a fistbump/handshake. The two settle on a one armed bro hug and a silent head nod as Duke leaves for school. He’s certain they’ll be okay, but can’t shake the stress of the idea he could be wrong.

Cassandra returns from patrols and gets ready to start a distraction inside Jerusalem itself to keep eyes off the Gaza border while the boys drop in. She crafts a reflective mask and makes sure she has everything she needs in just her black armor before spray painting a series of shapes in the colors of the rainbow all over and adding bedazzle jewelry to grab as much attention as possible.

Kate creates detailed spreadsheets on military capacity, major players, customs, culture, rumors, and structure. As she hands off the chips to read with their suits, she pauses. “Boys… Don’t hold back. They will kill you if you give them a chance. Don’t hesitate for a second. You hold not only the lives and futures of the Palestinians with you, but every Jew and many other nations. If you fuck this up, if you don’t save these people AND turn the public against the Israeli government to get them overthrown by their own people, they’ll turn this into a world war, millions, maybe billions of lives will be lost, and the Jewish people will be blamed for everything. We’ll be exterminated on sight. So, if you have to choose between completing the mission or Batman’s rule… we all need you to choose the mission, alright?” She pleads with the boys, turning and leaving before she can get an answer.

As Helena finishes up her work on the bone knives, she walks to the jet and hands them to both boys. “If either of you gets killed over there, I’ll bring you back myself just to kill you again. Got it?” She smiles with tears welling up in her eyes as she tries to rack her brain for anything they could do that would keep everyone out of danger and fails to come up with anything they aren’t already doing.

“I’ll keep him safe. You don’t have to worry.” Damian smirks. Dick shoves him over playfully.

Helena smiles. “Well, good. He totally needs it.” She pulls him in for a hug and the rest of the family begins to collect behind her.

“Are you ready?” Bruce disturbs the silence.

“Ready.” Dick replies. Cass loads into the jet and prepares for takeoff in her jewel encrusted suit.

Bruce steps up to the group of young heroes. “Every eight hours.” He takes his sons into a brief hug and then takes a step back, moving to the side for the others. Alfred, Selina, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, and the baby line up as Damian leaves to say goodbye to his animals. “Thank you. All of you. Hopefully we’ll be back sooner than later.” Dick steps in and hugs Alfred tightly.

“Do stay safe, Sir.” Alfred calmly speaks into Dick’s ear.

Dick steps back and Damian steps between the pair looking up at Alfred. “We’ll be just fine. Soldiers with some missiles are nothing compared to a Gotham city weekend. Please, take care of The Ark, Pennyworth.”

Alfred smiles gently. “Of course, Master Damian.” He pulls a bag of individually wrapped treats for each of the animals from his jacket pocket. “It will be my pleasure. Though, if you can, try not to send any back from your adventures. I fear one more addition may lead to the caves smelling so strongly that Penguin could find us by following his nose.”

“I make no promises, Pennyworth!” Damian calls out as he boards the ship and fist bumps Jason who just set down their bags inside near the seats.

Dick steps up to Jason and the two exchange a quick secret hand shake. “Hey!” Jason scolds, “There’s only room in this family for one dead guy. Don’t fuck it up, got it?”

“And rob you of your only achievement? Never!” Dick replies sarcastically as he steps up the ramp into the back of the ship and waves at everyone one last time. The door closes and Cass fires up the engines. Radar across the whole coast is jammed and as they open the bay doors to fire out over the ocean, they find Gotham covered in fireworks all over while they enter a low flight pattern just over the surface of the water. Damian enters the onboard shelter first and fastens himself in to rest while Dick enters the cockpit. He signs “Thank you” and Cass responds with a nod and smile before pulling her hand off the controls and splaying her hand wide open awkwardly and gently tapping her thumb to her chest signing “Fine” back. Dick smiles and looks over the horizon taking a moment to enjoy the sun on his face before he lays out on the onboard couch to catch some rest. As he closes his eyes, he’s unsure what they’ll experience. One would hope that the international community would step in, but he knew full well, the UN was created to avoid world wars, not to prevent genocides, so they’d be largely alone in this. He checked his pocket for his coms and wondered if he should call Kori before they landed, but ultimately decided against it. He didn’t want her distracted on her mission off world, but she’d be the last thought on his mind as he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Mediterranean Sea- Entering Israeli Airspace

Cass sets the autopilot and walks back to awaken the boys. She nudges the young man on the couch and he stirs awake rubbing his face as he sits up and looks ahead to the land off in the horizon. The girl returns to the cockpit and gives Nightwing a two finger salute as he opens the hatch and slides into the shelter. Both Dick and Damian begin to equip their new suits and ensure that they’re completely ready for combat just in case before they fasten themselves in for landing.

She pulls up to enter Israeli airspace from the Northwest and with more altitude so their takeoff point will be less obvious and the Gazans won’t be blamed for what she’s about to do. Climbing higher and higher, she sets autopilot to fly up to forty thousand feet, nosedive, and then use the accelerated speed to zip over Gaza City and drop the shelter before continuing on for another five miles and flipping back up over the coastline and landing just off the coast of ‘Akko in full camouflage for her to make her way on foot back to it and return home.

Once the proper altitude is reached and the negative G-Forces start to kick in, she pulls her mask over her face and begins to do the math in her head. In a free fall it should take about 3 minutes to reach a safe distance from the ground to depressurize. She grabs a supplemental oxygen tank and straps it on. 170. Deep breaths. 160. Walks to the back of the jet. 145. She maps out exactly what is about to happen in her head, potential risks, style points, best ways to grab the attention of a hostile military force. Her eyes closed, muscles relaxing, a smile appearing across her masked face. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2,... She pulls the latch and shoots out the door leaving the cabin depressurized as she spins out behind the jet before it reseals and quickly realigns with the ground and speeds off towards its next destination. She opens her eyes and attaches a pair of “wings” to her calves from her arms, spreading out and paragliding into the heart of Tel Aviv towards the large protest forming in the middle of the city. Straining her muscles she manages to use the fabric to slow herself down and grapples a building to swing out and throw herself back into the air so she can land gently on the building top.

The combination of the loud jet hurdling towards the crowd and her death defying stunt quickly gains the attention of the crowd and local authorities. She drops the tank, dusts herself off, and launches herself off the building to a nearby flag pole, grabbing the Israeli flag and stealing it as she slides down the pole and then leaps to another Israeli flag hung on a storefront. The police begin to rush in, screaming at her in Hebrew to stop, but she tears the flags in half lengthwise before ducking under the first officer and kicking his legs out from under him. She rolls back up onto her feet and takes off running through the protest. Grabbing an air horn from one of the protesters as she passes she grapples another building and blares the horn looking all around for more military and police units finding a car and drops down. She lands on the hood and takes the windshield wipers, throwing them at two more officers as they approach, catching the first in the throat just hard enough to make him gag and fall to his knees while the second catches the wiper blade directly to the testicles and falls down right next to the first.

She rushes to the next nearest group of police officers, getting around the crowd by running up the side of a wall and launching herself at full force into the first of the group of five officers, tackling her to the ground and flipping back up to her feet. The second officer drops nearly as easily. Blackbat jabs between his shoulder and his collar bone numbing his dominant arm as he tries to reach for his gun. She tucks and rolls under the other three officer’s lines of sight, stealing his baton from his belt and kicking him in the back towards the crowd of protesters. She throws the baton, striking a third officer in the helmet and blocking his vision as it falls over his eyes, catching the baton on the rebound and striking the fourth officer in the side of the helmet hard enough to spin it around his head and making it face backwards while she puts the last officer in a wrist lock to prevent him using his hand gun. He grabs her by the throat trying to stop her, but she pulls his wrist down to the side and knees his elbow making a loud *CRUNCH* as it bends backwards and his forearm down to his fingers goes limp. He starts to scream in pain, but she grabs the back of the helmet, wrenching it off his head and strikes him hard across the jaw leaving him unconscious with an obviously broken ramus bone. The third officer manages to pull his helmet back up just in time to see the rainbow colored hero wind back for an uppercut, knocking his head back and him out of the fight entirely. Finally, she returns to the fourth officer, still trying to fix his helmet only having managed to pull it back off his mouth, but unable to adjust the straps to get it to relinquish his head, she simply takes his handcuffs from his belt and clasps them down on one of his wrists, pulling him to the ground with it and then dragging him over to a gate. She loops the cuffs around a bar and then grabs his other wrist as he fumbles with his holster, pulling it up to lock him to the bar.

With all local law enforcement in the area attempting to cut through the crowd, she strolls over to another cop car and begins to hop from one foot to the next doing a silly dance and honking the horn to taunt them in her brightly colored outfit. Then, she rolls over the hood and kicks off the ground sliding partially under the car and grabs the brake line and one of the belts, pulling as hard as possible until they snap and brake fluid begins to pour out from behind the tires. She rolls out from under the car and two more officers make their way to her. She flips backwards back onto the hood of the car and shakes her finger at them as if silently scolding them.

The men become furious and raise their rifles at her, but before they can blink she closes the distance between them, grabs both barrels and points them to the ground. She then releases the slower officer’s weapon and grabs the faster officer by the finger he has on the trigger, pulling down and dislocating it with ease. The man screams in pain and his injured hand instinctively goes to his chest before the second hand comes to put pressure on the source of the pain, releasing the rifle entirely. The slower officer goes to redirect his barrel again and she spins around with the newly freed rifle in her hand to club both men across the left cheek. She grabs his gun as well with her free hand and then with one hand, ejects the magazine and throws the empty rifle at the next officer to make his way through the crowd, hitting him directly with the stock of the rifle in the nose and rendering him unconscious. She drops to one knee and spins around catching the magazine before it hits the ground. Two more officers make their way to her, finally clearing through the crowd and both drop to the ground holding their newly broken noses as she strikes them with the magazines from the guns. Finally, a third emerges right behind them only to be met with the barrel of the rifle she’s holding in her hands. He freezes in panic and she flips the rifle around her hand at maximum speed, throwing the stock of the gun directly into his chin and knocking him back into the crowd.

Blackbat jumps off the backs of the two officers with broken noses to add insult to injury as she grapples to a storefront and takes off running across the rooftops. One of the officers looks around noticing the crowd is taking the pieces of the guns, cheering on the new vigilante and rushing back through the walls of people with their ill gotten gains. He calls for backup, reporting the incident and the last known direction of travel to their dispatch.

As she races across rooftops and dives back to the ground to pummel wandering soldiers and police, Cass takes every opportunity she can to steal Israeli flags, wrapping officer’s heads in the fabric and yanking them roughly to the ground to take them out in one embarrassing shot after the next. As she tears one flag after the next leaving a trail of torn fabric and groaning bodies, the civilian population begins to curse at her and rush to stop her. She gracefully weaves through one fist after the next teasing them by wiggling her fingers in front of her face with her thumb resting gently on her nose. Two plain clothed men draw their sidearms on her and she slips behind the corner of a building, grappling to the top as they rush to capture her.

Soon, she’s become the center of attention all across Israel with helicopters following her and reporting live and the police attempting to stop her as she dashes Northbound. Even the military begins to join her pursuit as she continues to catch police by surprise and disassembles or sabotages their weapons and defenses, stealing a riot shield to bash them with while she ejects their magazines and wrenches their weapons from their hands to be tossed off buildings into the streets below. They begin to open fire, but as her suit’s photochromic pigments begin to turn the suit darker and darker under the sunlight she gets harder and harder to hit. Especially when she begins to use their firearms against them to scare them into giving her distance and cowering behind walls. In her full sprint, they simply can’t keep up and she disappears into the shadows of an alleyway as she leaps off a building away from them. Though, unbeknownst to them, she’d really just slipped into an open window she noticed on her way through before she closed it. She sneaks around the apartment careful not to alert the residents and raids their closet, throwing a bright blue long sleeve button up shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and the resident’s handgun and holster over her costume and unmasking.

She slinks out the front door and wanders out of the apartments onto the street. Israeli police and military flood the streets looking for her, but she pulls her earbuds out of the neckline of her costume and begins to listen to music with her gloved hands tucked into her pockets, blending in with the civilians as she continues on her path to the jet.

Watching everyone around her, she’s startled by her observations. They all seem so normal. Like they could be anyone at all. They engage in the same online trends, eat the same food, dress in the same styles. But, it’s almost like they’re possessed when their nationalism is threatened. They become entirely different people. Like a whole country of Two Faces. No coin flip. Just bigotry and misplaced national pride. She window shops as she goes through the city to ensure she blends in as a tourist. There is no native identity here. Only stolen culture from around the world.

Chapter Text

Gaza City, Palestine

The ship opens the cargo doors and whips around, launching the small structure inside just to the east of the ruins of Gaza city after scanning for heat signatures and verifying a safe location for the shelter to land. It crashes violently into the ground shaking the boys inside and begins to drill itself into the surrounding area, flushing the top of the bunker with the surface of the ground to keep it completely unnoticed by the occupation forces. When the structure settles, the boys release their straps and set to work. Damian sticks his head through the hatch and sees the jet flying away back to the North, but there’s nothing else around. There’s nothing but destruction. Hollowed buildings with blasted out windows and destroyed walls. He’d seen the pictures, but there was something more surreal about seeing it first hand. There were people about a mile away, but the signs of life somehow did nothing to make the area feel less… empty.

Dick checks to make sure all their systems are functional and that all their equipment is undamaged. Transmitters, receivers, suit monitors, radar, gps, satellite connections, echolocation, light spectrum analysis, spare parts, weapons, locks, structural integrity, files, insulation, rations, and the motorcycles are all in excellent condition. Dick connects his earpiece to contact Bruce. “We’ve landed successfully and Diversion appears well on her way to the extraction site with an elevated heart rate, but no suit damage. Radio traffic indicates they don’t know where she’s gone, but she was successful in getting their attention. Deploying now to set up perimeter.”

Bruce breathes a sigh of relief in his chair watching the screen of the Bat Computer finally having heard from Dick after hours of waiting. “That’s good. Remember to scan everything before you take a step. They’ve been planting mines and boobytrapping cans of food for over a year now. There’s no telling how many undetonated explosives there really are in the area.”

“Understood. Don’t get blown up. Good advice.” Damian replies sarcastically.

“Ha. Ha. Falak. I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to be snarky.” Bruce replies with a smile.

Dick takes a peek outside. The air tastes like gunpowder. The drones and planes hum endlessly. “Have you met yourself, B? The fact that any of us can be serious at all is a full-on miracle.”

Bruce watches the flight patterns on the screen. “I’m widely regarded as being the most serious person anyone’s ever known. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re a mortal man who dresses in a pointy eared costume and shrugs off gods and monsters on a regular basis as no big deal, who poses on top of buildings at night, has his own personal army of child soldiers who mostly dress in bright colors that completely clash with your dark shroud, and then roleplays as a quirky, philanthropic, businessman who parties way too hard in a suit and tie. Anyone who ACTUALLY knows you, knows you’re one of the least serious heroes who takes himself infinitely more seriously than he has any business doing and yet you’re such a theater kid that it actually works to cover up everything that shouldn’t work about who you are and what you do.”

“And that’s without mentioning the fact that you literally have no ability to sidestep one-upping or mocking someone who has annoyed you in some way.” Damian chimes in.

Alfred chuckles to himself as he sweeps the cave behind Bruce. “Just make sure you set up the sensors properly. We’ll want to be able to track local wildlife and soil nutrients we could use to restore some kind of ecosystem to the area beyond just dust and debris.” Bruce’s stress is audible in his voice.

Dick adjusts the first probe. “Of course. We can multitask fixing a war, tending the land, and taking a rare opportunity to mock you without having to do extra chores or some kind of new and bizarre training.” He tests the functionality in the first position, adjusting the sensitivity.

Damian scouts the area with his new contacts. He’d been developing them to compete with John, but never thought he’d get so much use out of the magnification feature. Soldiers to the east, palestinian civilians to the south. At least for now, they seem safe.

Dick plants the second probe firmly in the dirt. “Damn. It’s basically what we expected. Maybe worse by a percentage or two. I’m getting clear readings. Mixed soil layers, compactation, low water content, fractured soil aggregates, lead, antimony, copper, zinc, chromium, cadmium, arsenic, TNT, RDX, HMX, DNT, NG, perchlorate, oil… They pretty much just threw anything they could at this city and wrecked everything. The soil here is acidic enough we’re really not going to have a whole lot of options for terraforming anything. There’s practically no micro organisms left to help along the process either. The ground water, if there are any significant sources left, is probably poisoned for the next five years minimum. No telling what all this is doing to the waters on the coastal areas. Probably poisoning the fish, international coastlines all throughout the Mediterranean Sea, and even the air when humidity picks up in neighboring countries. I’d imagine we’ll want to get air and soil samples from Egypt, Libya, Italy, Greece, and Turkey along the coastlines when they reenter their wet seasons in winter. Maybe have Aquaman run tests on the sea life in the area too.”

He plants the third probe and starts to adjust its positioning. “B. How are we going to manage to pull all of this back out of the soil? Even using phytoremediation, we’d be introducing foreign plants and they’d need to be destroyed all while the people starve. They’re likely to try to eat anything we plant even if we can explain to them that it’s poisoned.”

“One thing at a time, Zoureg. We can’t worry about everything right now. Just get the process started and we’ll find solutions to problems as they arise.” Bruce speaks calmly through the earpiece.

“Father, we can’t save anyone if we poison them. Sunflowers would become toxic in this god forsaken soil and would take two to three months to grow enough to harvest. Same with Indian Mustard and the native Black Mustard variant. Willow Trees would be a 5 year wait, inedible, and only some varieties are currently found anywhere in the area, and same with ferns. Corn, tomatoes, and peppers could be safer in a lower concentration of metals, but that’s assuming we could even get them to grow in soil this compacted and this intermixed with the underlayers and we’d be guaranteeing that the plants are found, possibly blown up or used as bait, and poisonous to anyone who tried to pick them before we cycled through at least three to five crops with an average of about eighty days between rotations.” Damian looks over the charts and graphs for the probes. “That’s a minimum of two hundred forty days where we’d need to patrol the crops just to keep starving children from trying to eat them. We’d be better off using that kind of time and resources on creating, using, and collecting magnetic nanoparticles or magnetically assisted soil washing processes to keep a low profile and avoid poisoning the people we’re attempting to save.”

“Agreed, but we don’t have any legitimately good options at all. We could at least try to treat heavy metal poisoning if they do eat it and aside from actually harvesting the metals with nanoparticles our only other option would be fungi like aspergillus niger, trichoderma harzianum, or a penicillium fungi or certain kinds of bacteria like a pseudomona, desulfuromonas spp., geobacter spp., or bacillus and most of those would still require something to absorb the contaminants and with how malnourished and sick the population has become they’d likely suffer infections from any of those options if they came into contact with them. I’ll work on switching around some operations and buying up land, but in the meantime this is the best option we have available.” Bruce begins to research real estate options in the region as he speaks.

Damian helps to plant and coordinate the last few sensors. “Fine. We would likely be better suited to getting familiarized with the locals anyways. I believe Nasser is around 25.8 kilometers to the Southwest.”

“Alright. Leave your coms behind with your suits in the motorcycles. Otherwise you’ll raise suspicions, but don’t forget your bracelets so you can call for help if needed. And make sure you pace yourselves. War is a lot to handle at any age. Keep yourselves safe. Don’t forget check-in in eight hours.” Bruce starts to ramble as he gets closer to signing off.

“Yes, Sir. We’ll stay out of trouble. Mostly.” Dick teases. “Zoureg signing off.”

“We’ve survived worse, Father.” Damian reassures.

“I suppose that may be true. Thank you. Bravo Command, signing off.” Bruce holds his hand over the button waiting for his sons to sign off first. The line disconnects and he settles into his chair.

Dick and Damian call the bikes up from out of their personal ports and climb on racing toward Khan Yunis. They top out at one hundred twenty miles per hour. Soon, they come up on the Salah Ad Din Israeli checkpoint and attempt to off-road their way around the crowds and straight through a couple of soldiers. They hear the men begin to fire at them, but by the time they’re able to raise their rifles the distance between them is too great for accurate shots. The whole Netzarim Corridor is well staffed and well armed though, so their risky maneuver is not yet complete. They have to dodge more soldiers, plenty of gunfire, and even a few shells from tanks as they weave their way through the area, instantly grabbing the attention of every soldier in the area. “Zoureg! I’m not sure we’re making it past without a legitimate fight!” Damian shouts as they continue to weave through explosions.

“Not yet! We’re not rushing into a fight without figuring out first hand what’s ACTUALLY going on here!” Dick locks in and takes the lead in their race across the Israeli occupied zone. It took another two minutes to cross through before they stopped seeing more tanks and soldiers, but thankfully they couldn’t keep up. They try to keep a lower profile for the rest of their trip so they won’t bring a fight to the people they’re trying to help, but virtually everywhere they go, they find more soldiers off in the distance and more displaced palestinians crowded together. Dick can’t help but think of how it looks like cattle being gathered for a slaughter. They needed to move quickly and get this under control or everyone they passed would die, including the soldiers.

The sight had his history classes running through his mind. Genocides, ethnic cleansings, apartheid, crusades, slavery. There was no way this ended well for anyone. After all, people tend not to trust those with too much power, so if Israel ‘won’ the battle, they’d lose the war and typically back in Gotham tragedy would turn into super villains taking over the place. Whether it was disfigurement, a lost job, a lost loved one, a desperate attempt to keep themselves alive, or according to the Joker, “Just one bad day.” it always had a habit of churning out Clayfaces, Two Faces, Mr. Freezes, Jokers, and Punchlines. It was honestly a miracle that a place like this wasn’t just a mad house full of people like Poison Ivy and Bane who stumbled into too much power and started using it to make people pop like blisters.

Chapter Text

Khan Younis, Palestine

As they approach the city, they find an area where they can hide the bikes. They swap out their superhero personas and lock them into the seats and adjust their civilian clothes, grabbing their medical supplies to contribute to the hospital. After a brief inspection of their supplies, they throw the bags onto their backs and begin to walk through the city. They’re in yet another ‘Red Zone’. Shells explode mere blocks away, women scream, children cry. They pick up their pace hoping that they’ll be at the hospital and ready to help by the time the new victims show up, but when they arrive, it’s worse than they thought.

Nasser Hospital is flooded. Dick attempts his best arabic. “What happened here?” He approaches a doctor and looks all around at the smelly water covering the area.

“A strike burst one of the sewage pipes nearby about a week ago. We’ve piled up sand outside to hold back more from coming in, but it will keep being a problem unless we can coordinate with the Israelis to get it fixed.” The man replies.

Dick’s face twists in disgust. There were better ways to fight a war like this. If the aim was truly to save hostages and destroy terrorists, even without the skill and training of the batfamily. They could have gone door to door the way any other fascist would. They could have done vehicle searches, checkpoints, collapsed tunnels, filled them with cement, but instead they opted for maximum damage and carnage. Careless bombs and gunfire. And now, one of the only remaining hospitals for the innocent to go to couldn’t see patients. “That’s terrible. Is there anything that could be done to help? We came to help with medicine, but it’s clear you may need more from us now.”

“You are doctors?” The man responds incredulously. “You, I could believe. Him?” He gestures at Damian with one hand. “If he started his studies as an infant he’d barely have gotten a doctorate.”

Damian smiles. His Arabic is clearly superior over Dick’s, but still just as stilted and formal as his english. “If you would like to test your knowledge against mine, you are welcome to do so.” He folds his arms in front of his chest.

Dick steps partially between the two. “ We had a very good teacher. If you choose to let us, we could help to save lives, but that’s neither here nor there. Currently, you don’t have an emergency room, much less the extra hands to run it. What can we do to help? Is there a hospital that survivors are being redirected to? Are doctors going door to door to find patients? Is there something we could do to help block the water, clear the water, or seal the pipe?”

The man shakes his head. “Ah, fine. There’s a field hospital not too far from here. Perhaps they could use your assistance. We can’t do anything here until this is cleared and we can’t clear it until the source is fixed, so we’ll need to wait for approval from Israeli forces to go fix things. If you’re still so motivated to help tomorrow, go ahead and stop by. Perhaps we’ll have a more practical use for your help then.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Dick responds. The boys turn to head in the direction the man had nodded earlier to find the field hospital, but before they can make it very far, a family begins to run to the building they’re leaving behind. A son, two daughters, and their injured mother beg for someone to help them, but the doctor tells them about the complications with the flooding and gestures for them to follow the boys to the field hospital.

“Grayson.” Damian whispers, “That’s a femeral artery bleed. She’ll pass out in seconds.” He takes off running toward the family and slides to the mother’s side, taking her from her children and laying her on the ground. Dick rushes behind him and starts to get the sutures ready while Damian puts on his gloves.

“Your mother should make it, but we don’t have a lot of time, so I need you to trust us.” Dick hands the needle to Damian from the plastic packaging. “Do you know if the shrapnel that hit her was pulled out? Or is there a chance it’s still in there?”

The son speaks first, “There wasn’t anything to pull. She was just walking behind us on the road and then the explosion happened and she fell down.”

“Good. That’s good information. Thank you. Go take care of your sisters and we’ll handle everything from here.” Dick smiles and holds the woman’s leg to make sure it doesn’t move around too much while Damian sets to work with forceps trying to make sure the shrapnel isn’t still inside. The woman screams out in pain, but he quickly locates the metal and extracts it, looking it over to see what kind of damage it may have done inside her leg. With his second hand, he’s already starting to suture the wound to keep her from losing too much blood. Her children cry at her side and call out to their god proclaiming his greatness. Tears stream down her face and she grits her teeth, but the bloodflow slows quickly and Damian makes sure the stitches are sufficient.

The woman is safe, but clinging to consciousness just barely. Her face is pale, her cheeks are sunken, and her lips are chapped. Dick pulls her off the ground and into his arms. “Is there somewhere safe she can rest for now? If not I’ll help you carry her to the field hospital.”

“We’re staying not far from here. Is she okay? Does she need more treatment?” the older girl asks.

“She’ll be okay. We’ll want to clean the wound a little when we get her settled, but for now she’ll just need to stay off it and rest. Guide me and I’ll help you bring her home.” Dick adjusts his arms under her for more support.

The children smile and cry giving eachother hugs and cheering as they wave for the strangers who saved their mom to follow them. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” “God is most great!”

As they walk, Damian continues the woman’s care, inserting an IV to get her nutrients and hydration up to make up for the blood loss and starvation she’s subjected herself to in order to keep her children fed and hydrated. “Notice any other cuts, scrapes, bruising?” He interrogates Dick.

“No. It looks like we all got lucky. No tears in the fabric of her clothes to suggest we missed anything either.” Dick calls out to the children. “You were very brave today. If you didn’t think quick and get your mom help, she’d be in a lot of trouble right now. How old are you?”

The children turn to face him. “I’m sixteen years old.” The boy answers. “I’m eleven.” “And I’m ten years old.” The girls reply as they continue on the path.

“I’m Rashad. This is Ali. What are your names?” Dick asks.

“I’m Omar. My sisters are called Rafah and Yafa.” The boy responds.

“And what should I expect your mother to call herself when she’s awake enough to answer questions again?” Damian questions them.

“Her name is Aisha Abdullah Al-Najjar.” Rafah answers. “Maybe the name is part of a divine blessing?” She wonders to herself. “This is the place on the left.” She announces. The children guide Damian inside. It’s modest and the windows are long gone, but at least their walls are still standing. Dick sets the woman down and gets out the alcohol wipes to clean the stitches gently.

“I’ve been thinking, Rafah. Looking at this wound a little closer, it’s a smoother cut than I’d expect to see in these kinds of situations, you kept it very clean despite the environmental conditions, and if you’d arrived just two minutes earlier or two minutes later we would have been gone and you would have arrived to a defunct hospital without enough time to get her to the next medic. Maybe her name really is blessed. Or maybe she’s just very blessed to have amazing kids like you.” He switches to the normal thread for suit repairs and stitches the woman’s abaya to cover her skin again as he looks up at the young girl. “You three really did save her life. You should feel proud of that.”

Omar can’t help but smile a bit at the recognition for their actions. “The credit is all to Allah. Without his plan we could not have found the strength and we would not have crossed paths with you.” He tries to humble himself a bit and remember dhikr.

“Of course. But, today you were all vital in carrying out Allah’s will.” Dick attempts to course correct, remembering the culture he’s in momentarily.

“Ameen.” The young man replies.

Damian keeps his back to the others trying to hide his annoyance as he watches the street outside. “When did you all eat last?”

Omar and Rafah get quiet. “Three days.” Yafa answers.

“Well, that could explain why she didn’t pass out as quickly as I expected.” Damian starts to dig through his bag. “She has more than likely been focused on trying to keep you fed instead of focusing on herself. She’s had too little to eat, so her blood pressure was lower than I anticipated. That may have actually played a role in saving her life too. But, we’ll need to fix that anyways.” He pulls twelve prepackaged bars from the bag and holds them out to the other children. “It’s not much, but these should help with the hunger for a while and get some nutrients and fat in your systems so you can hold out for longer.”

The children each take three and unwrap one, eating slowly and savoring the bites. “How did you learn to do all this?” Yafa asks after she finishes the first bite.

“Yeah. Not to be ungrateful, but they don’t exactly teach surgery techniques in Basic Education. And they definitely don’t just give medical supplies to children to figure it out on their own.” Rafah adds to her sister’s thought.

Damian smirks. “I was given a special mentorship.”

Omar raises a brow at the non-answer. “Who gives a ten year old expert medical training?”

Dick sits down against the wall. “It was a sort of private schooling with experts from around the world.”

“If you’re that well connected, why are you two still here? I thought all the really wealthy people left as soon as they could.” Rafah asks with obvious confusion written across her face.

“Some of them absolutely did, but our mentors were very proactive and they’ve never believed in running from a fight, so we’re not going anywhere either.” Dick reassures as he takes a sip from his bottle. “Does anybody need water?”

Omar nods. “Yes, please. If you’ve got enough to share.” He walks over to Dick who’s already pulling out three bottles of water from his bag.

“Of course.” Dick hands off the bottles. “Are there any clean water resources in the area?”

“We can clean the water, but the plants have been shut down for a while.” Yafa’s curiousity is not sated. “So, what are these mentors of yours doing while you’re here?”

Damian cracks a smile, appreciating her headstrong approach. “Using those connections to help outside of Gaza’s borders and twisting world leader’s arms into addressing the crimes being committed here.”

Chapter Text

Gotham City, Orpheum Theater

It’s a collection of some of the most important and influential people in not only Gotham, but truthfully in the world. The Mayor, the Governor, as many Senators as Bruce could entice with an open bar, and of course one Yechiel Leiter, Israel’s ambassador to the United States.

Typically Bruce would be outside. Suited up. Ready for Ivy to show up and make a point or for Joker to pull a prank. Batman didn’t ATTEND these kinds of parties. He crashed them. Usually literally and in such a way as to end them quickly as he fought real world monsters. But, this time that responsibility would have to fall to Black Bat, Batwoman, Spoiler, Red Robin, and Oracle. Batman couldn’t fight these monsters. Like the Hydra, if he cut off their heads they’d just be replaced. Breaking their bones wouldn’t stop them either. So, tonight he wore a new suit. Similarly all black just like the one he’d become more accustomed to, but much more formal. No gauntlets. Only cufflinks. No utility belt. Only his wits and money. No intimidating cowl. Only his influence as Gotham’s favorite son.

Selina adjusts his black silk tie and smoothes the collar of the matte black button-up shirt he chose for the occasion. Her black and gold dress hangs around the back of her neck leaving her back exposed to his touch as he pulls her in for a kiss.

“You know, I always wanted to meet you, but I didn’t account for how much time you’d spend on each other.” Helena walks in with Alfred escorting her. She lifts her floor length skirt to get down the steps and holds the old man’s hand to steady herself. “Remind me why anyone wears this kind of thing?” She stares down at the emerald green dress with black lace decorating the bust, feeling uncomfortable and entirely out of her element.

Selena smiles and answers, “Only three reasons. They’re putting on a show to fit in with other people who are putting on a show. They’re about to break a bunch of social rules and need to blend in long enough to dig to the core of a group before they do so they can make a point. Or, they’re about to rob the first group of people blind.” Her eyes are lit up by her bright smile as she finishes on her last point. “But, unfortunately today it’s all about option number two. We’ll be exuding power and control in nice looking formal outfits to elevate our social status before we make everyone else look bad by showing off their flaws, inadequacies, and hypocricies in contrast with our projected perfection. It’ll be fun. Not as fun as taking their wallets and making them panic at the valet, but fun nonetheless.” She tucks her daughter’s hair behind her ear.

Helena furrows her brows as she thinks, “But, what am I supposed to do? Couldn’t I be doing more good on a patrol?”

“No. Not at all. Out there you could stop a couple muggings, maybe fist fight a supervillain, but that would be it. We’ve got that covered for the night.” Selina takes her daughter’s hand and leads her to the doorway to take a peek before they step out. “In this particular circumstance, you and I serve to elevate your father above these weirdos. We show that he takes responsibility for his own actions, hasn’t cheated, treats his family well, has demonstrable wealth from his successful business, and has the love of his family as he moves forward. Then, on an individual level, our public support helps to show the world that this isn’t a fringe opinion and that it’s an opinion held by the smartest and most well connected people in the world, not hate groups or conspiracy theorists. Compare that with these men and women. Each of them has skeletons they’d rather keep hidden under the floorboards and in their closets. Failed marriages, estranged children, bankrupt businesses, criminal enterprise, no spines, and AIPAC money to prove that they’ll sell out for a couple grand and a vaccation.” She closes the door. “Being invited to a party with someone as well liked and well to do as your father makes them look good. They’ll probably want pictures and a chance to relax away from the protests that have been growing in all their cities. They’ll bring their own ways to document the experience. Then, when they get called out and shamed it’ll make them look even worse than they did before.”

“Sort of like letting someone make it to the stairs before you knock their legs out from under them so they land harder and fall for longer?” Helena jokes.

“See? You’re getting it! Now, we just need to make them feel welcome enough to stay, but disrespected enough to feel a need for validation. Since we’re women, they’ll make that part nice and easy. We get to be mean and they’ll choose to take pretty much any backhanded compliment we give as an invalid criticism or just us being catty. After all, if they weren’t in the right they wouldn’t have their positions and they wouldn’t have been invited by a more important member of society. They’ll inflate their own egos as much as they need to and then we can just sit back and enjoy the show.” Selina takes her handbag from Alfred checking to make sure her weapons of choice are still packed. “Can’t be too careful. Now, let’s show these clowns what it looks like to be on the right side of history.” She opens the door and guides Helena in gracefully with a gentle smile.

Bruce shakes his head, but quickly puts on his Bruce Wayne persona with a smile and an intentionally heavy step as he enters the room, commanding the attention of the party-goers. “Welcome, Everyone! I’m glad you could make it.” His voice carries through the room with a sort of friendly familiarity. “Remember, tonight is all about charity and humanity, so be sure to help yourselves to the bar! Trust me, the drinks will more than pay for themselves after you’re bidding on your third yacht!” He maintains his friendly expression as he locks eyes with Yechiel. “And don’t be afraid to hurt my pocketbook as well while you’re at it because I’ll be personally matching all donations made tonight and then doubling whatever amount that turns out to be when we finally get all the money accounted for!” He calls out over the balcony. “So, please enjoy yourselves and settle in for a long night.” He grabs a champaign glass from a passing waiter and raises it to toast the crowd before turning back around to end the interaction.

“Mr. Wayne! It’s been so long since you’ve made a public appearance we were all starting to think you might have gone to terraform Mars.” Mayor Sebastian Hady jokes as he approaches Bruce for a handshake.

“Not at all, Sir. I’m much more invested in this world and the billions of people on it who already need help. Not all of us billionaires are as gauche as Mr. Musk.” Bruce turns to face Mr. Hady, but keeps both hands in his pockets, leaving the mayor's hand hanging in the air between them.

“Well, better gauche than sanctimonious, Mr. Wayne.” The mayor glares and folds his arms in front of his chest.

“We certainly can’t all have grace and humanity, right? Least of all you. Still taking bribes? Or perhaps you’re more interested in continuing to displace people so you can turn a quick buck that way?” Bruce leans down to Mr. Hady’s eye level. “What exactly do you need all that money for anyway? Maybe to get a woman’s attention?”

Mr. Hady grits his teeth. “Always so cavalier with your guests?” He glares daggers at Bruce.

“You know, the hair plugs and leg extensions don’t tend to work very much on the average woman. You’d get much further in your romantic endeavors with a bit of charity and kindness.” Bruce pats the man on the shoulder and cuts a path through the crowd as he goes to entertain the rest of his guests.

As he approaches he can hear a group of senators chattering about the president and what he’s been up to over the course of the past few weeks. “It’s completely unprecidented.” “He’s making a mess.” “It’s like he’s never even heard of laws.” They continue on and on laughing amongst themselves.

“Well, if you ask me, I think the problem is a lot deeper than the would-be king in the Oval Office. With how often he’s changing scripts, someone’s pulling his strings and correcting his impulses. Combine that with the current average level of education for an American and it’s no wonder he thinks he can just do whatever he wants. The American people think that’s how it works and they’ve got the numbers, so that’s how it works.” The billionaire interrupts their conversations, pulling the attention to himself.

“Mr. Wayne! So good to finally meet you and what a first impression!” They scramble to engraciate themselves to him.

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” He gestures broadly with his arms to signal openness and welcome them to the party personally. “Especially once the bidding begins and we get to feeding the children and building them some schools.” He winks.

“Oh, absolutely! We’ve got to make sure the kids are taken care of. And if we can do it while getting a little something for our troubles, that sounds like a win all the way around!” Cory Booker cheers with his colleagues.

“Well, I better go. No rest for the charitable I suppose. Make sure you stay to the end. I’ve donated all kinds of goodies, so even if you’ve already picked up something you like, there’s sure to be more in line with your tastes.” He steps away with a small bow and smile.

Bruce continues making his way through the festivities meeting with the largest groups he can find at a time while Selina shows Helena how to manipulate rich people first hand working the smaller groups and keeping an eye on which groups have already met with Bruce. By hour’s end, they’ve schmoozed with everyone they can and they retire back to the staging room for snacks while the bidding begins.

“Dinner is served, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne.” Alfred gestures to a table full of appetizers.

“Thank you, Alfred. Be sure to enjoy some for yourself.” Bruce takes a scone and bites into it turning to face the girls. “Alright, Selina. What did you take?”

The woman stares blankly into the middle distance. “What are you accusing me of?”

Bruce smirks. “You’re good, but I know you. What did you steal and who did you steal it from?”

Selina pouts. “You didn’t even see me. That’s not fair at all.”

“As long as it was from our guest list or the suspects in the Wing file, I’ll allow it. It’s not my preference and you’re absolutely not allowed if you might be caught, but from this moment on, the only rule is the most important. This is too important to hinder with my own personal moral beliefs, so if you get an open chance to pull more from their pockets to go towards legal fees, new research, city maintenance, and aid, you’re allowed. Not encouraged. Not mandated. Just allowed to take easy marks. From this point on, we’re going to do a whole lot of things I’d rather we didn’t. Now, go get rid of any evidence. They may try to arrest me for what I’m about to do and if they overreach and try to grab you too, I don’t want them finding you back up to old habits.” Bruce’s face is almost as serious as it typically looks behind the cowl.

Selina flips her hand bag upside down, dumping her weapons and stolen goods onto the ground before sliding them under the drawers by the door. “Ready.” She says with her eyes a bit wider in surprise at Bruce’s attitude towards her cleptomania.

“Okay. It’s just about time. Alfred, if the police start to make a move, you’ll be taking Helena home and locking the gate. Nobody in or out except through the cave. And Selina, I could be fighting a charge and I’ll certainly be fighting a civil case of Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress. If an officer attempts to arrest Helena, I’ll punch them, but I’d prefer paying your bail for punching them out yourself so the case can focus entirely on the act of showing what they’ve been doing, rather than on some kind of assault.” Bruce explains.

“Theft and assault? Is it my birthday? Of course I’ll handle business, Bruce.” She kisses him

Helena’s nerves start to get to her. She’s seen her parents take down monsters, but never outside of their costumes. One wrong move and everyone would know who they are.

The family gets ready to re-enter and as the announcer says Bruce’s name he throws the doors open and calmly makes his way to the podium to give his speech. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I have exciting news for you today. Some of you may recall, I told you to make yourselves at home and to prepare for a surprise down the line. Now is that time.” He presses a button on a small remote he’s palmed from his pocket and a projector begins to play videos of Palestinian civilians dying from bombs as they go about their daily lives. Children starving to death. Before and after pictures of schools and hospitals now practically leveled by the Israeli Regime. Families mourning their lost loved ones. “I was once just like one of these children. Lost. Hurt. Crying over the bodies of my parents. But, unlike these children, my parent’s murderer was not celebrated and was not sent back out to kill me as well. Now, that gets to be a problem for you.” Bruce walks into the middle of the crowd as unblurred images of the carnage continue to play on the projector only to be joined by another, and another, and another, until all the walls are covered in the crimes of the Israeli government and their soldiers. Red lights project from the ceiling using facial recognition and motion tracking technology to find and illuminate the hands of all the politicians with a deep red color while the lights dim. Bruce continues to speak, his voice amplified by a lapel microphone. “Would anyone care to explain for the world, what exactly the difference between the loss of my parents walking down an alley to go back home and the loss of a palestinian child’s only source of shelter, food, and love in a bombing that they shouldn’t have been involved in is?” Bruce’s face is filled with disgust and anger with every word.

Several of the politicians begin to make a b-line for the doors of the venue as the videos continue.

“You all have blood on your hands, and I want you to acknowlege that fact for your constituents. The value of 70,000 men, women, and children in your eyes is just $125,000.00 on average. For those of you who aren’t so great at math, that means you’ll cosign a genocide for a dollar and seventy-eight cents!” He takes a look around at the images projected all around. “But, surely it’s all worth it, right? To get rid of the terrorists?” A video of Mrs. Rachel playing with three year old, double amputee, Rahaf starts to roll on the projectors. “Wait! That’s not a terrorist. How very odd. Or maybe the three year olds are soldiers now? In that case, you really botched the mission. On that note, perhaps we should address how often you botch those missions. The United States National Counterterrorism Center reported that somewhere between 20,000 and 30,000 members made up Hamas. Somehow you kill between 3.5 and 2.3 times as many people, maim many times more than that, and seek to starve even more many times than that, but you still can’t manage to end the threat? Perhaps I should lend you my security team. I’m sure they could arrest the remaining threat without incident and do so without harming the 43% of the remaining population who are under the age of adulthood. But, I don’t think I will. Matter of fact, I think I’ll be having my companies switch all their business models to be completely inaccessible to you and leave your sorry asses flapping in the wind. Our military contracts? Void. My satellites? They belong to anyone, except you now. Vehicles? Currently being used for Gotham’s very first demolition derby! Be sure to buy tickets before they run out of pieces to crush! Your political careers are over and your trials for any crimes you were involved in through your involvement with this abuse of human rights will be a maximum of five years away. Enjoy your new toys. They’re some of the last you’ll ever get your hands on and certainly the last you’ll receive from my own personal stock.” Bruce chuckles to himself. Have a great night everyone. I know I will.” He begins to walk off stage as he notices police beginning to make their way up the walk ways.

He takes the rest of the family and begins to rush them through the doors, knocking over the dresser to block the doors behind them as Selina collects the stolen goods he’s just revealed. Helena smiles from ear to ear. “That was pretty cool, Dad.”

Bruce takes her by the arm and rushes her to the stairs. “It wasn’t cool yet. It’ll be cool when we get away with it. Now, everybody move.”

Chapter Text

Gotham City Streets

Bruce tests the exit before they step out, looking to make sure there won’t be an alarm or any police to avoid. Silently, he signals for the others to come down the stairs. They sneak out onto the sidewalk and down the dark alleys avoiding major roads. Bruce makes sure to guide his family around each corner.

Soon, they begin to see more and more police lining the streets. Multiple departments. Most from the representative’s home cities. They weren’t alone. FBI and ICE agents began to file in right behind them. The plan had worked flawlessly. Bruce fully intended to kick the hornet’s nest, just so they could send a clear message. Even if his companies weren’t the biggest contributers to military technologies, a loss like this would be felt all the way up the ladder and their retaliation would set them up for failure. All they needed to do was make it back to the Manor and start the legal case.

As officers started to overstep, they were quickly corrected again and again. The first ICE agents attempted to quarantine the area around the venue. Silently, they disappeared one by one as shadows moved through their vehicles. Brief flashes of red, purple, black, yellow, and green warned a few officers as they called out to others, but their reinforcements fared no better.

Before anyone could get a positive ID on any of the assailants the entire west side of the blockade were incapacitated. As the sound of gunfire, thumps, thuds, and then screams got closer and closer, the remaining officers started to lose their nerve and the pedestrians they were trying to keep control over started to move back away from the wall of officers towards buildings to hide. They’d all seen their fair share of Gotham’s worst. It typically wasn’t this subtle. No gas or laughs, so it wasn’t Joker or his gang. No crashing or rumbling, so it wasn’t Clayface. It lacked the pageantry of most of the villains who made their lives hell, but somehow this was worse. The silence grew as the crowds attempted to hear any clues about what exactly was going on.

The officers kept their guns raised towards the last sound they heard and their heads on a swivel. Their hearts beat loudly and their sweat poured down their temples as their anxiety kept rising. Then, the shadows grabbed one of them. Black arms with what seemed to be claws stretched out and grabbed one of their rifles. The officer kept his grip on the gun as he was flung around into the side of his car. He tried to keep his balance, but as he tried to stand up straight the black boot of the shadow slammed into the side of his head sending it through the driver’s side front window. He collapsed almost instantly, folding onto the ground like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. It all happened so quickly. The men looked over and saw Black Bat standing over their colleague. Together they moved to aim their rifles at her, but as they shouted for her to “FREEZE!” one of them collapsed to the ground with Spoiler’s boots landing on their chest from the balcony of a nearby building. Another caught a staff to the side of his face, then the front of his knuckles forcing him to drop the gun, and finally to the back of his knee, sweeping his legs out from under him and letting him fall to the ground, instantly knocking the wind out of him as his back met the pavement. The last one panicked and started firing as he brought his weapon to aim at Red Robin, but before he could level it, a black gauntlet grabbed the barrel and he looked up to see the face of The Batman staring back at him just before he caught the stock of his own gun directly to the face. His vision blurred and then darkened immediately and his body fell limp to the ground.

The crowd stared silently in awe as their heroes took apart the Law Enforcement that had detained them only moments earlier and then vanished just as quickly as they’d appeared in the first place. The only signs of their presence being the trail of unconscious men left in their wake and the screams and gunfire which grew more and more distant by the second. Cautiously, they emerge from hiding and start to usher each other past the vehicles and back to freedom.

Five blocks away, Bruce and the rest of the family have made it almost all the way to the tunnel system to get back home undetected. Helena can’t help but notice something is off with Bruce. As they silently move from shadow to shadow, he's more nervous than she’s ever seen him. More than he was about going to a war zone or sending his sons. It just didn’t make any sense. He’s one of the best fighters in the world. What could he be worried about? She took Selina’s hand and gave it a squeeze to grab her attention, but she seemed completely focused as well. Like they both had tunnel vision.

The longer their tension remained, the more she struggled to keep herself calm. Her mother never held her hand this tightly and her other hand on Bruce’s shoulder like she was trying to reassure him that everything was okay just felt so out of place. It felt like some sort of sixth sense was alerting her to danger, but WHAT? WHERE? She put all her concentration into keeping herself from shaking.

They made it to the final alley. It would be over soon. Bruce placed his hand on a section of bricks and the wall opened quickly revealing the Batmobile. The tension in her jaw eased for just a moment, but then a voice from behind them made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “That’s far enough, Mr. Wayne.” It was cold. There wasn’t a soul or a conscience behind it. It barely sounded human. As she turned to face the voice, she could see a white suit, a white mask, and a black gun already trained on her mother.

Her father cleared half the alley in the blink of an eye and her mother’s hand slipped from hers to the opposite side of the alley. Helena’s ears began to ring. Her parents were saying something, but what it was, she couldn’t tell. Suddenly, she felt a hand around her upper arm and turned back to see Alfred pulling her to the car. The hatch opened quickly and he all but threw her inside before running back to the alley. The masked man was firing off shots quickly and appeared just as agile as her parents. Mid backflip, he pulled a second gun out of his suit jacket and started to take shots at both vigilantes at once. Bruce tackled the man to the ground and took two rounds to the chest himself as he held down the gun that had aimed for Selina. Helena screamed, “NO! DAD!” Then, one last shot rang out as Alfred stood overtop the masked man’s now smoking head with his own pistol. Tears streamed down her face and her mother rushed to her father’s side to make sure he was okay, only for Bruce to reveal he was wearing a bulletproof vest under the suit the whole time. Selina punched him in the arm for worrying her and they all rushed to the car to make sure Helena was okay and get home, Bruce held his side as the bruise from the shots began to form.

The hatch opens again and the three adults file into their seats before sealing themselves inside with Helena. Bruce turns to her and asks, “Are you alright?”

Helena smiles nervously as she watches the wall close off and separate them from the now deceased assailant. “Yeah. I… I think so. You got shot. Are you okay?”

Bruce smiled. “I’ll be alright. Bruised, but this isn’t my first time.” He presses the button on the dash igniting the engine and takes off through the tunnels back to the surface a few miles away to get to the cave so they can deal with the events of the night in safety.

As soon as Bruce makes it back to the cave he heads straight for the computer and starts adding to a file. Helena notices the name. ‘Wing’ Her parents were discussing the Wing File briefly earlier. Now, her dad is adding the information about the encounter with the masked man. They knew something was up. They knew there was more danger and they didn’t tell her. “What the hell is the Wing File and who was that man? Why did he attack you? How did he keep pace with you?” She starts rattling off questions as fast as she can growing angrier by the second.

“A theory. I don’t know. I’m not sure. Probably training.” Bruce answers calmly as his fingers fly across the keyboard.

Selina helps Alfred out of the Batmobile as he stumbles practically entranced.

“WHAT AREN’T YOU TELLING ME?!” Helena lashes out at the room and her eyes shift from green to blue with a faint glow.

Alfred sits down on the stairs with a hand on his forehead and Selina notices the change to her daughter’s eyes holding out her hands like she’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Helena, I understand tonight was stressful, but I need you to take a few deep breaths. I’ll explain anything you want answers to, but right now the answers might be incomplete. Sound good, kid?” She gestures to a workbench nearby for Helena to take a seat on.

Frustrated, but satisfied with the chance to get some answers, Helena stomps over to the bench watching as her father clicks through pages and pages of documents. Still standing she turns to her mother. “Who was that?” She asks again more quietly.

Selina shakes her head. “Honestly, we don’t know. Your father has a theory he’s been investigating for the past three years, but it basically all amounts to chasing ghosts and rumors. Elite members of society with a weird obsession with birds who may or may not be pulling the strings behind the curtain. There’s barely any evidence at all that they exist, but what does exist seems to suggest that they control the politicians, the police, the criminal underworld, education, banks, ports, and anything else that you can think of. It wasn’t really clear how they would do it, but if tonight’s encounter is anything to go off of, then they probably have a long list of well trained assassins to send on covert missions.”

“Is that what the Wing File is? Just Dad’s theories about that group?” Helena relaxes her shoulders.

“It’s everything. Personal theories, scraps of evidence, online discourse, dead ends, possible targets, remedies for their influence, he’s even got a dream he had about them logged just in case it provides a break in the case.” Selina laughs.

Helena however, is unmoved. “Why did he attack you?”

Selina shrugs. “They could be tied with the Israelis in some way your father didn’t account for. They could be mad about the cash flow from the change in business plan for his companies. They could be members of congress or connected to them somehow. Or they could be mad about our activities as vigilantes and they finally figured out our identities. The options are pretty much limitless. Until we know who they are we can’t even try to eliminate possibilities.”

“Okay. Fine. I guess that makes sense. But, if you didn’t know he was coming or that anything was even going to happen, why was everyone so freaked out before anything even happened? Alfred is a wreck and he’s never had a problem with shooting someone before. You were being extra clingy for two blocks before anything even happened. Dad doesn’t rattle even a little for war, aliens, or bombs, but he was putting off an energy I could feel without even seeing his face. What was going on?”

Selina sits down with Helena. “You know your grandparents were killed by a mugger. One of your dad’s greatest fears is that he’ll end up in that situation again. They were killed by a gun right in front of his eyes and he couldn’t stop it. With all of us out of costume, going through those same alleys, and hiding from a bunch of men with guns, it brought back memories. And Alfred has always blamed himself for their deaths. Being able to be there this time and stop the threat probably just has him revisiting the past.”

Helena thinks for a moment trying to see if she needs any more answers. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well, for starters, we have to let the rest of the family know what happened so they can stay safe just in case this isn’t isolated to just me or your father. Then, we make sure everything is completely locked down. After that? I think we should try to figure out what happened to my gorgeous daughter’s green eyes. I mean, your father’s blue suits you, but I can’t ignore the fact that you ditched your brother and me to join him.” Selina jokes halfheartedly.

Confusion sprawls across Helena’s tear soaked face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Selina pulls out her compact mirror and holds it in front of the young girl’s face. “It means, I think you might be manifesting more power after a traumatic experience, so we’re going to need to get you some therapy and a couple tests to make sure you know what you can and can’t do now that the rules of your body have changed on you.”

Chapter Text

Khan Younis, Palestine

Aisha awakens in her home surrounded by her children with two new smiling faces standing behind them.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Miss. How are you feeling?” Dick smiles.

“MAMA!” Yafa shouts and hugs her mother.

Aisha groans. “I’m a little sore, but I’m definitely feeling better than before. Thank you.”

Damian checks the IV to make sure it’s still flowing properly. “Please rate your pain.”

“I- Maybe a five?” The woman tries to assess her body, but she still feels a bit numb and groggy.

“We will leave you with a few bottles of water and medications. Please take them, instead of trying to save them for your children, so you can heal properly. We will check back in every few days until you are okay again to make sure you’re all taken care of.” Damian pulls out three more ration bars and a bottle of water and hands it off to the woman as he speaks.

The woman takes the supplies and starts to cry. “Thank you. Thank you so much!” She pulls herself up into a sitting position and opens a bar to take a bite.

“That’s why we’re here. If you have to flee the area for any reason, try to make it further west and we’ll find you within a few days.” Damian grabs his backpack and throws it on.

Yafa raises an eyebrow. “How could you find us if we leave?”

“That’s what we do. If someone needs help we’re usually pretty good about finding them and helping out.” Dick explains with a smile as he follows Damian’s lead and puts on his backpack heading for the door.

“Thank you both.” Omar says as he takes a sip from his water bottle.

Rafah, Yafa, and Aisha smile at the boys on their way out. “Thank you so much. It feels like Allah sent you himself to save us. Thank you for enacting his will today!” Rafah calls after them.

“You’re so welcome. All things are possible through Allah.” Dick responds.

Damian cringes and walks away leaving Dick behind without a word.

“Okay. Four down temporarily, two million more to go.” Dick says as he hurries to catch back up to Damian.

The young man simply ignores him and keeps walking along the path with his eyes on the sky watching the planes and drones fly past.

“Are you doing alright? You haven’t really talked much since we got here and normally the problem is kind of the opposite. Especially when you’re getting praise you tend to go off script and get to gloating.” Dick teases.

Damian rolls his eyes. “No, Grayson. We are in a war zone, treating the victims of a manufactured famine and active genocide nobody wants to do anything about, I have not yet gotten to hit anyone about it, you are not a muslim, yet you are pretending to be to keep your cover and to affirm their faith in a situation that proves their god either does not care to protect them, does not exist, or actively hates them and wants them eradicated. This situation is what most might describe as being the furthest from alright.”

Dick lets his smile fade and slumps his shoulders. “Yeah. I guess that’s fair. I don’t think it proves any of that, but I can see why you’d be bugged. Anything I can do to help you? Maybe something I can do to get on your nerves less?” He starts to scan the horizon for snipers and tanks.

“How exactly do you explain all of this if their god cares them, exists, and doesn’t hate them?” Damian looks at Dick confused by his naivety.

“Well, I think if a god wanted someone eradicated, he wouldn’t send the world’s most pathetic military to do it. And he doesn’t need to protect them to care. It could just be their time to pass or it could be someone else’s time to help them. If both are true, then he could very easily exist and just have a plan for their lives that doesn’t align with what we’d prefer for his own goals.” Dick thinks out loud as he ponders Damian’s question.

“So, he cares, he just wants them to suffer for reasons that will become clear someday far down the line and he could not accomplish that task through any method other than ethnic cleansing?” Damian summarizes.

“Well, no. Maybe all of this mess will have a butterfly effect that leads to something really great down the line.” Dick tries to regain control of the perspective of the conversation.

“Name one thing great enough that it would be worth a genocide.” Damian challenges Dick.

“I don’t know kid. Maybe world peace?” Dick shrugs trying not to take the hypothetical too seriously.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. How would 2 million deaths at the hands of the world’s most inept soldiers lead to world peace?”

“Well, people’s humanity tends to come out in full force when suffering starts and they get to be aware of it. Maybe people would decide to finally take down abusers across the world or maybe they’d see the suffering and decide they wanted to do something more global to keep everyone from having to experience the same thing they went through.” Dick suggests.

Damian glares. “Stick to pageantry, surgery, and black eyes, Grayson. Theological debate is not your strong suit.”

Dick shrugs and carries on. “How do you think the others are handling things? I’d imagine Supes is fuming with what B pulled and Lois is probably having the time of her life and going where she’s not welcome already.”

“I would be more concerned about the rest of the team. Those two have real world experience and self control. It makes them uniquely qualified for this assignment.” Damian drones as they march forward.

The pair continue to walk forward until they start to see more people. With most heading in the same directions, they decide to follow and see what everyone’s headed towards. The answer quickly becomes obvious as they start to find more and more people crowded around a structure. There’s guard towers, some kind of storage area, and what appears to be a distribution area with people returning from the front area with improvised containers of food.

“It’s a GHF aid site.” Damian comments staring forward into the crowd. “Israeli backed. Mostly American and Palestinian volunteers. Guards can be temperamental.”

Dick hangs his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. “They’re about to be. We need to suit up. Body language says they’re planning something.” He presses the fob to call their bikes to them and takes a look around for anywhere they could hide out while keeping an eye on the situation.

The guards atop the towers pace back and forth. The workers seemingly speed up their process getting sloppier by the minute as more and more aid seekers walk out with burns on their hands and forearms from spilled food. The guards patrolling the outside of the crowd slow down their patrols leaving larger and larger gaps between them. “Looks like their plan is to fire into the crowd and get them to stampede. We’ll need to be fast and take them down without any shots fired or these people will crush each other to death trying to get away.”

The bikes fly in from the north and stop abruptly in front of them. “That should not be a problem. They are used to shooting at large crowds and children from a distance. Nothing they’ve faced in this war should have prepared them for a fight with us.” Damian opens the compartment with his suit and rushes through the process of equipping it. “It’s getting late anyways. Perhaps we should simply ride out of here and make our debut just before sunset after we are done with these fools.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Just remember to use the ‘Fangs’ liberally.” Dick’s already halfway in his suit as he peeks around the corner to monitor the situation at the aid center. “They should be quiet enough that they won’t grab the crowd’s attention, but the effects should be fast and noticable enough to get people started on turning around and out of the area before panic sets in across the whole group.”

“Deal.” Damian agrees as he slips his contacts in and gets a closer look at the situation. “The towers are two man posts. Patrol is single units spaced out by one hundred feet. If this is the Khan Younis site and we aren’t further west than I thought we were, they likely have another thirty guards ready to deploy in case they run into resistance and their backup from the base should only be about five minutes away. If they have not evacuated all the civilians in that time, we will have to face them further up the road. Likely, in tanks and humvees and anywhere from fifty to one hundred soldiers packed around five deep in each vehicle.”

“Well, then I suggest we take down the guard towers first. If they’re too busy drooling on the floor they can’t warn anyone else and from there we should be able to take down the crowd control in just a few minutes. Once they’re down we should be able to get everyone turned around and hold back the guards in the back.”

“We will need to do better than that. The base is on the road many of them will be taking back out of here. If they get the chance to call out for help, the soldiers at the base will attack the crowd on their way out of here.” Damian warns.

“Alright. Plan B.” Dick pinches the bridge of his nose before clicking the face plate of his mask into place. “We’ll move into the distribution area, take down as many as possible without making a sound and then if we get caught I’ll take the high ground and eliminate the threat on the towers before moving to the crowd control units and you’ll tear through the remaining thugs in the back lot before they can call out.” The mask modulates his voice and makes it lower. “Agreed?”

“Agreed” Damian applies the lighter colored domino mask and the pair make their way around the crowd easily scaling the walls and dropping down into the storage area.

There’s plenty of food, but much of it appears out of date and they’re only using a fraction of what’s available. Influencers dressed in military garb obnoxiously laugh into their phones as they show off the aid they’re not delivering.

The pair of heroes splits up immediately and Dick takes down the first guard, grabbing them by the throat and choke-slamming them into a pallet of aid with a soft *Thud* before they lose consciousness and fold in on themselves awkwardly falling with their head between their knees.

Damian leaps into the air and takes down a pair of guards as they’re talking to each other by kicking one guard in the nose before using the momentum to launch the heel of the same foot into the opposite guard’s throat, sweeping their legs, and then returning to the first guard to punch him in the face as he tries to get back up. With both incapacitated, he moves on to the next target.

One by one the dynamic duo launch guard after guard into unconsciousness. Damian begins to lure guards and then cuts the ropes and plastic on spoiled aid before knocking it over on them, trapping them underneath and creating panic as more and more ‘accidents’ pin the guards. Dick begins to collect small rocks and launches them into the foreheads and temples of guards dropping them quickly and silently leaving welts as he pushes through the remaining guards. To both of their surprise, they manage to clear the rest of the guards in the back undetected. Dick shrugs as if to say, ‘Who would have thought?’ and then begins to ascend the stairs to the first tower. As he sneaks up to the top, he catches them just as they’re about to fire on the crowd with their rifles leveled and aimed towards the front of the mass of people.

He jumps forward and throws two fangs into the first guard’s arm as he grabs the rifle from the second guard and twists it out of his hands before kicking him backwards into the first guard. Tossing their rifles from the tower he grapples to the second tower. As he flies through the air and begins tearing apart the second tower’s guards he calls out to the people below, “Please remain calm! My partner Falak and I will be keeping you safe today! Head back home for now and we’ll be sure to assist you in a timely manner!”

Damian rushes up behind the first guard, quickly getting the attention of the crowd as he throws three fangs into the man’s back making him drop the gun and fall to the ground with a brief scream before the young man runs across his head to the next guard. As the guard turns to face him, Damian rolls under and knocks out his legs making him land face first directly on the side of his gun. He then springs up and tosses a fang into the back of the man’s hand to keep him from being able to hold his rifle properly.

As the new costumed heroes systematically take down more and more guards before their eyes, the aid seekers begin to suspect the area is no longer safe or it won’t be for much longer and though they leave hungry, they leave as quickly as they can without the terror of being shot once again. Noticing the flood of people leaving and the vigilante flying between their towers, the guards on the ground begin to fire at Dick before Damian emerges from the crowd and begins to riddle them full of fangs before grappling to the third and final tower along with Dick and taking down the remaining guards.

As the remaining aid seekers file out, Dick takes note of the city they’re mostly moving towards and calls the bikes in closer to the structure. They move to the back area once again and find two pallets of aid, hooking them to the bikes and driving out the back way before racing to the city to leave in the middle of the street for those who need it.

Chapter Text

Rafah Border Crossing, Egypt

“I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you that I’ll be on the other side of that border conducting interviews and writing a story before the sun sets tonight. Whatever you need to do to make that happen, get it done. But, there’s nothing you can do to stop me without a Superman and as you can see, I come prepared.” Lois gestures towards the man in red and blue standing behind her with his arms crossed against his chest as he stares at the soldier refusing them entry.

“Miss, if you attempt to cross into Gaza without the approval of the Israeli government, you’ll be in violation of their laws and subject to arrest.” The small soldier replies.

Lois grins. “That’s why I’m asking you to give approval so we can both avoid the headache and just go about our jobs like nothing happened.”

“Ma’am, for the last time, I can’t do that.” The soldier whines.

“Can’t and won’t are not the same thing, but can I quote you? I’m sure the world would love to know that you tried and failed to stop every reporter from making their way inside.” Her purple eyes glow with that special gleam she always gets when she’s got a story she’s sunk her teeth into.

It’s almost enough to distract Clark from Bruce’s manipulation and the never ending bombs he can hear going off. “Sir, I understand you have your rules…” Superman places one hand on the table and leans down to meet the soldier’s gaze more directly. “...but, she’s not wrong. One way or another, she’s going to make it inside. I could absolutely refuse to help her, you could call in every soldier within twelve miles of this border, you could even arrest her and try to transport her to prison or deport her back to America. No matter what you do though, she’ll get her way and the story will be written. Wouldn’t you rather just warn your higher ups that she’s here and try to control the narrative a little by giving her your side of the story, instead of being the guy who tried and failed to stop her and had to report that to his superiors?”

“No. You will both leave. You have no right to be here. Israel and Egypt will allow who is safe and keep out security threats. Tha-”

“Security threats like the aid trucks we saw on the way in and journalists to document your activities?” Lois interrupts, writing in her note pad as quickly as she can, looking up at the small man earnestly before breaking character and laughing in the man’s face.

The man’s face turns bright red and he begins to adjust his uniform before continuing through gritted teeth. “That’s the end of this discussion.”

Lois stands and drapes an arm around Clark’s neck. “Of course it is. Ta-Ta!” Clark's hands wrap themselves under her and she finds herself in his arms almost instantly as he takes off flying. Two soldiers demand that they turn back and open fire, but Clark simply turns to shield Lois with his body before melting the barrels of their guns with his heat vision and continuing into Gaza.

“Have I mentioned how handsome you are when you break the rules for good reasons?” Lois smiles at The Man Of Steel and plants a kiss on his cheek, leaving her arms draped around his neck as they fly over the destruction below. “I don’t suppose you brought your camera, did you Smallville?”

Clark stares out into the distance taking in the full spectrum of the conflict. “No, but I assume Bruce will send me one by the end of the hour.” He says, obviously annoyed.

“Oh! Good! He’s a good friend. I’m glad he decided to get the ball rolling on this.” Lois ignores his tone and pulls out her cellphone to record as they glide through the military zone.

Clark swallows his own feelings trying to be supportive of his wife. “Well, I’m glad you’re already enjoying yourself. Granted, I shouldn’t be surprised. Your idea of a good first date was jumping out of an airplane.”

Lois stops the recording and looks at Clark, “Well, I might have an affinity for danger and adrenaline, but mostly I’m just excited to tell the story so many hundreds of reporters have already died trying to tell. It feels like we’re doing them some kind of justice just being here and writing about what we see.”

“It’s exactly that body count that made The Planet decide against sending reporters here.” Clark’s frustration shows through again. “I want justice for them and of course for the people here, but it’s a very unfriendly environment for a reporter without a bulletproof, super sonic, autonomous shield and just me being here could make things a lot worse for everyone. I wish he would have considered that before forcing me into this position.”

“Clark. I know you’ve always been scared that you’d tear apart a cardboard world, but look down there. There’s not exactly a whole lot left to knock over. I don’t think you can really make anything worse for the Palestinians and the Israelis seem to have made their own bed on this one.” She reassures him. “You’re a good man. You’ll know what to do once you’ve been here for a few days and we’ve got our interviews.”

“Lois, I appreciate the pep talk, but I have half a dozen different types of vision and super hearing. I know the situation down to the molecule already. Everything that hasn’t been destroyed yet is someone’s life, their memories, and the last remaining remnants of their families, so it still matters if it gets crushed and even if I just didn’t care about that at all, there’s no way I can fix this.” He flies down and sets Lois down briefly before grabbing a large piece of debris and lifting it allowing a mother and her three children to crawl out. They thank him and their god. They’re happy to be alive. But, he can see the littlest member of the family has a broken arm and none of them have had anything to eat or drink in the past two days since the building fell on them with no one around to hear their screams for help. The family rushes away holding each other and trying to find safety, shelter, and aid. “I can save people all day and all night. I could bring them food and water. I can deactivate missiles before they hit the survivors. But, I can’t stop the fighting. Some of them are talking right now about their next targets to take back their land and save their people. I can’t talk them out of that. They’ve watched their cities and people get destroyed, occupied, and raped. There will be no breaking bread with the people who did that. Especially since they’re being spurred on by people sent by their enemies to talk them into more aggression and plenty of people just looking to make money and hurt people. And on the other side the civilians can’t be talked out of attacking Palestinians and supporting their own government because they’re scared they’ll be persecuted if they’re not aggressive enough, if they’re not independent enough, if they’re not isolated enough. They’re afraid of losing everything they’ve built for themselves ever since their families arrived here. They’re scared that they’ll be hurt the way they’ve hurt people if they stop. Their government is even more distant from the humanity of it all since they’ve never had to dig in the dirt a day of their whole lives and they’re endlessly supported by the rest of the world’s governments and there’s mountains of money to be made.” He scoops Lois back into his arms and lifts into the air as they take off towards the first location on their list. “I already know what needs to be done. People need to die. The hate they feel is too hot for any other answer to satisfy them and peace won’t be reached until they feel that they’ve met a fair bargain for the pain they’ve both endured or the things they both feel entitled to. But, I don’t and won’t kill. I can help, but I can’t fix this.”

Lois purses her lips and furrows her brows. The logic of the argument is solid, but not satisfactory. “Well, you may not think that help will fix things, but I know you. You just said they’re afraid. The fact that you don’t kill is probably for the best then. They won’t have to be scared of you, they’ll see they’re wrong, and you’ll inspire the same hope in them that you do everyone else until they get on the right track. I think they’ll recognise you’re a choice they didn’t have before and they’ll follow your example.” Superman fires a blast of his heat vision, neutralizing a missile and knocking it off course into an empty street and saving a man’s life in the process as they keep flying overhead. “I think you forget, you bring out a lot of people’s humanity. That’s what this place really needs. Light in the shadows to expose the truth and a hero to show everyone that they’re better than this.” She kisses him on the cheek. “Truth, Justice, and a Better Tomorrow?”

Clark smiles weakly, still unsure about her faith in his abilities. “Truth, Justice, and a Better Tomorrow.”

They continue to fly through the occupied lands towards the coastal humanitarian zone, Al-Mawasi, for some interviews on the ground with displaced civilians.

As the pair fly further and further north, they stop seeing as much rampant destruction and there’s fewer people in need of saving, but there’s more and more tents, sand, and hungry people. To Clark, it had the appearance of a small agricultural town like Smallville that had been flooded rapidly as city folk fled the violence. It would have been perfect for feeding the locals, but with so many mouths to feed in such a cramped area they’d never manage to keep the crops healthy enough to produce enough for everyone.

They land just outside where the tents start and set up their small tent and two person sleeping bag to turn in for the night and let the civilians get what little sleep they can, undisturbed by their presence as Clark holds his wife close and listens for any nearby gunfire or missiles.

Hours after they drift off to sleep, he can hear something. It’s approaching quickly. His eyes shoot open and he shoots out of the tent into the air awakening Lois with the fresh air from outside. A missile flies towards the tents. Superman tries to use his heat vision to disarm it, but it’s moving too quickly. He ends up catching it in his hands and redirecting it upward, firing at the back of the missile and detonating it before it can cause any damage.

The sound instantly jolts awake the residents of the tent city who know the sound all too well. They come out to investigate the damage and count the heads of their loved ones, but they don’t expect to see a man gracefully descending from the falling debris and their camp untouched. Even in the dark, the children recognise Superman in an instant and their tears from fear and anger turn to smiles and tears of joy as several of them rush the hero and trap his legs in a large group hug. “It’s okay. You’re safe tonight. Go back to sleep. Head back to your folks.” Superman gently hugs them back one by one before turning them back around and sending them back to the tents for the night, but most circle back around to crowd around him until their parents come to retrieve them.

The man of steel sits down on the ground with his eyes on the sky attempting to show the residents through his actions that they could rest easy knowing he wouldn’t let them get hurt before returning to his wife and his tent himself.

Chapter Text

Naveh Sha’anan Neighborhood, Eastern Haifa, Israel

Dick and Damian ride as fast as possible through the barricades and gates out of the Gaza Strip and into Israel grabbing the attention of every resident from Abasan al-Kabira to Haifa as they pass through the streets. Several police and military vehicles attempt to pursue them, but they quickly lose them with their speed, handling, and narrow vehicles allowing them to thread through the streets and traffic.

Arriving in Naveh Sha’anan, the boys grapple to the rooftops and leave their motorbikes behind as they begin their first patrol of Israel in one of their highest crime communities.

It’s not long before they start to see the sources of the local crime rate. Tensions between refugees and white Israelis are high, gangs pay off police in private deals, poverty rates are climbing. “Kinda feels like home.” Dick halfway jokes.

“We both know where to start then. The police need to get off the payroll for good.” Damian pulls a fang from his belt and lines up his shot. Letting loose, the sharp point drives right into the officer’s shoulder blade and he falls to the ground screaming and trying to crawl away back to his car. The drug dealer’s eyes open wide in shock and he tries to take off on foot only to find himself cut off by the young hero dressed in black and brown diamond patterns. “It’s time for you to put your criminal transgressions behind you.” Damian practically growls, staring at the criminal with his greyed eyes.

“What the fuck are you? Get out of the way!” The man tries to shove the young boy out of the way.

Damian grabs his wrist and twists sending him to the ground immediately and without any attempt to catch himself. “Assault is a crime.”

Dick tries to hold back laughter at the irony of the statement as the man on the ground groans in pain.

“You can’t touch mEEEEEEEE!!!!!” The man screams as Damian twists his index and middle fingers.

“I very clearly can and will. Now, be quiet.” Damian leans over to speak more directly to the man as he holds the fingers in place. “You’re lucky tonight. I need a messenger more than I need you to believe I’ll break your hand off and throw it at your dull-witted head, so listen closely. You are going to get up and go home. You will tell your friends and clients that all of Haifa is protected by Zoureg and Falak now.” Dick waves with his gleeful expression obscured by the full coverage face mask as Damian continues his threats. “You keep dealing? Busted. You bribe a cop? Busted and bruised. You hurt anyone? That pain will be visited back upon you to the highest degree. Try to fight back? You’ll be just as injured if not more so and we won’t hesitate to humiliate you so severely that you’ll never be remembered as anything but an embarrassment to your family. Do I make myself clear?”

The man’s pride clouds his judgement as he locks eyes on the small child holding his fingers tightly. He prepares to spit on the boy, but before he can try his fingers snap to the side and he screams out in pain instead. “GAAAHHHHAAA!”

Damian rolls his eyes. “You failed to account for the seriousness of the situation you’ve found yourself in. I bet you didn’t even listen to the words I said, did you? Tell me which names you needed to remember or I’ll make your healing nearly impossible.”

The man cries holding his wrist just below the broken knuckles and sobs on his knees trying in vain to remember the names he needed.

“Your body has three hundred sixty joints. Now, three hundred fifty eight. Would you like to see if we can get that below the three hundred mark?” He grabs the second pair of fingers exactly the same as the first set.

“Zour-Zoureg! UH, uh, um, it’s uh, F-Falak?!” The man scrambles to remember.

“Good. Now, get yourself to the hospital.” Damian releases the man and the pair of vigilantes disappears into the night as the drug dealer looks around trying to find his assailants as they move on to the next batch of criminals.

Dick and Damian sprint across the rooftops and soon find a bus station where they can truly make a name for themselves. Pimping, drug running, assaults, tagging, breaking and entering, muggings, the bread and butter of the batfamily. Dick starts to stretch before the fight. “Well, this should be good. You ready kid?”

“I needed someone to hit before we even landed.” Damian double checks his equipment before they begin.

“Just make sure you don’t go overboard. A lot of these guys are just members of the Israeli lower class.” Dick reminds the younger hero.

“Incorrect as usual, Grayson. They serve for almost 3 years actively and until halfway through their lives as reserve. They’re guilty.” Damian grits his teeth looking down into the crowd.

Dick rolls his shoulders and relaxes his muscles. “It’s compulsory and that doesn’t change the reasons behind their crimes. When we confront the politicians I’ll let you cut loose, but we need to remember these are normal people with the same psychological vulnerabilities as anyone else.” Dick places a hand on Damian’s shoulder and leans over the edge of the building to check out the crowd. “I know you haven’t been in public school for very long, so you probably haven’t had your teachers show you how quickly and easily people slide into bigotry and fascism if they’re prompted correctly.”

Damian crosses his arms and looks at Dick incredulously. “Maybe Ra’s was right. If people can choose to hate so easily then they shouldn’t be allowed so much freedom.”

Dick smirks at Damian. “Ra’s should honestly make you more sympathetic to these people. He’s obviously got some kind of baggage that led him to build an entire army, he’s probably guilty of most of the same things as the IDF, and he’s used the same techniques to draw people in and get them to commit literal war crimes, including YOU, Baby Bat.”

Damian reels back in offense. “Don’t call me that! And that was different. He convinced us to kill criminals.-”

Dick cuts off the younger boy. “People you were TOLD were dangerous or criminal. Just because Ra’s happens to be more honor bound than most dictators and cult leaders, doesn’t mean he couldn’t have just pointed a finger and gotten you all to do whatever he wanted. That’s just how humans are. We want to help, but that desire to do and BE good, combined with our insecurities and lack of knowledge in every situation we get involved in can turn us into monsters and puppets. There’s nothing more dangerous than a man trying to do the right thing who’s unwilling to acknowledge that he might be wrong.”

Damian goes to speak, but as his brain processes the words, he’s left speechless trying to think of a counterpoint. He didn’t see them commit crimes. He didn’t know for sure who they were. He trusted his grandfather and his mother. That’s all it took.

“Don’t get too in your head about it, Batkid.” “Stop.” Damian pulls out a fang and threatens Dick with it.

“Sorry. Can’t. It’s in the older brother's manifesto. I have to bug you at least once every twenty minutes or the family bond will snap.” Dick takes off the mask to get some fresh air and look Damian in the eyes.

“We’re not related.” Damian sneers.

“Doesn’t make you any less a part of the family.” Dick smiles.

“Correct. It makes YOU less a part of the family. You’re just adopted.” Damian says as he turns his back on Dick.

“That’s one of the dumbest things you’ve ever said.” Dick jabs. “We’re all family. A weird family, sure. But, still family. We show up for each other, we care about each other, and we help each other every day to be the people we’re meant to be.”

“Yes, Grayson. That’s what a team does. Family is blood.” Damian climbs up on the ledge ready to jump into the street below and start the fight.

“If family is only blood, then explain Selena and Helena. One with only half your bloodline and the other completely unrelated. But, you’re absolutely getting the little brother treatment and Selina is probably less closed off than Bruce. All three love you unconditionally and would do anything to keep you safe.”

“They let us drop into a war zone. That’s not exactly what I would call safe.” Visible confusion spreads over Damian’s face.

“They sent a child prodigy with perfect genes, trained by the greatest fighters and minds in the world, who volunteered to drop in and made sure he was accompanied by his older, more experienced, and even higher trained brother and then committed their own efforts along with the greatest heroes in the world, including one who’s faster than sound and bullet proof with the ability to hear our conversation from hundreds of miles away. We’re both as safe as safe can be in the heart of a genocide.” Dick pats Damian’s back and hops up on the ledge himself. “Ready?” He snaps the mask back into place.

“Ready.” Damian drops down feet first and grapples the building across from them to slow his descent as Dick jumps down head first, grabbing a window sill to rotate out before shoving himself out across the road and running along the wall down toward a John trying to leave before paying his prostitute.

Dick lands feet first on the man’s back and picks his pocket, taking the cash and passing it to the woman who had been chasing him. Switching from English to broken Hebrew he points away from the area. “You should leave.”

“I think we could say the same thing, Spandex!” A man approaches with six others trying to look as intimidating as possible. “You people ruin business.”

“Time to invest in a different business then.” Dick responds, bringing his fists up to a boxing position.

The men advance, going for an attack with knives as their leader moves to grab a pistol from his waistband. Damian drops on the man, breaking his thumb and disassembling the gun in seconds, bending smaller pieces so they won’t go back together as Dick catches the first man’s arm, flips him over his shoulder onto his back taking the knife from his unconscious body and throwing it into the second man’s foot forcing him to stop the advance and fall to the ground screaming in pain. The third man slashes as Dick evades stepping back and cartwheeling away, grabbing a rock as he does. He tosses the rock at the man’s hand, knocking the knife loose and then slides in punching the man hard in the nose as he rotates around him and backhands the fourth man across the cheek with his closed fist as he dodges another man’s punch and knees him in the gut. The sixth man panics, charging wildly and loudly at the snake-masked man in front of him, but it’s no use. Dick wraps an arm around the man’s thigh and one of his wrists, lifting him into the air almost effortlessly while spinning around and disorienting him until he throws the man like a sack of potatoes at the last two men trying to recover from their injuries, knocking them all into a pile on the ground as more people gather around to see the demonstration of the new heroes.

“You can’t fight the whole city!” the leader screams as he holds his own hand and backs away into the crowd.

Damian smiles widely. “We don’t have to. The ones who run away can be spared.” He pulls out six fangs and readies them as Dick strides up to his side with the five knives from the last group in his hands.

“Cross this line or try to shoot past it and you’ll be taken down in seconds.” He throws all five knives into the ground perfectly between the cracks in the pavement.

Chapter Text

U.N. Headquarters, New York City, New York

Diana stares ahead at the building she once watched the construction of many years ago. It seemed like a move in the right direction at the time, but now she saw her reservations to the system they’d built fully realized. Instead of talking or taking action about issues affecting the world, they’d simply litigate it. Even once they’d litigated, they’d still defer to one or two powerful members. They’d be too focused on short term peace for their own people to see a brewing threat in the distance and do anything about it.

She enjoys her last few minutes outside before she has to go inside and play politics with men who had aged nearly to the end of their lives and never bothered to stay in touch with the average citizen they were meant to represent. “At least you’re good company, Jumpa.” She scratches the enormous sky kanga up and down across her neck. The animal nuzzles her, pressing its head against her forehead as she quiets her thoughts before she goes inside for the first time in a long time.

She knew the rules from the last time she was part of this system. You had to shrink yourself and your opinions just to be heard at all. But, you also needed to stand out if anyone was going to listen. A simple, but dark pant-suit with a white button up shirt helped with blending in, but the long ponytail and rose colored glasses would help to grab attention. Of course, being 6’3” and needing the larger sizes of suit jackets probably would have done that on their own, but in her experience, it was better to stand out as fashionable than as a truly unique being around these kinds of people.

She finds her seat and settles in. The proceedings are tedious and generally unfruitful. They speak of the challenges facing the Middle East, but their continued capitulation to governments who flagrantly break their rules and then lie about it combined with their ineffectualism in the face of violence continues to trip them up as their speeches are delivered.

She waits to hear any real solutions to the problems being discussed, but ultimately they relied entirely on the softer approach condemning the bombing of hospitals, the blockade of aid, and the taking of hostages. In this forum all it takes is one voice of dissonance to undo the collective will of the people and it would come in the form of the representative for The United States.

Of course, their WFP delivers food, but not enough. They speak of political solutions, coordination, advocacy, etc., but their words ring hollow when they allow themselves to be restricted again and again by the Israeli government to such an extent that their UNRWA is limited to only Palestinian staff still left operating within Gaza to deliver aid, education, and waste collection. Their UNICEF is too spread thin to handle the needs of the populace and their workers endure constant attacks. A bulk of the work that’s needed is left up to NGOs like Oxfam for rebuilding agriculture, Save the Children for food, MSF, MAP, and The Red Crescent for medical assistance, Anera for development. All work that should be being done with the protection and assistance of soldiers who know what they’re doing in a war zone and can protect themselves and others. But, any attempts to break the rules could result in hardship for their own countries, so none stand against the unfair power granted to the American Government.

Their droning and hand wringing while their countries have every capability to stop these attacks within weeks is giving her a headache to match the ache in her heart as she listens to their words. They read out their reports on the starvation, the violence, the forced occupation and displacement, sexual violence, imprisonment and trials of children in military courts and detention centers. They explain in detail what happens to starving children as they go days and then weeks without food. How they lose their energy, concentration, joy, then their fat just to survive. How they lose their appetites and then their bodies deteriorate consuming their hearts, livers, and kidneys. How infection begins to spread with ease and their immune systems collapse. How it leads to their bodies eating their muscles and vital organs, their bellies swell, their skin practically turns to paper. And then, at three weeks the final phase begins. They get legions on their eyes and go blind, their hair falls out, their organs go into complete shut down. They can’t move, speak, or cry out as they take their last breaths, unable to even feel their mother’s hands holding theirs or hear their father’s cries. Those who survive grow up stunted with impaired cognitive development, weakened immune systems, and increased risk of chronic illness. Forever smaller than their peers and horrifically traumatized. It’s a harrowing description, but immediately undercut by offering their attention to an Israeli hostage who hides herself and her country behind a single moment following dozens of years of violence perpetrated by a country that never should have existed in the first place.

Ms. Gritzewsky explains how her home was invaded by Hamas. How she’d been abducted on October seventh, beaten, humiliated, sexually abused, threatened with guns, used as human shields, and treated to a lack of hygiene, medical treatment, and barely any food or water. How they lied to her again and again and made her do chores in the tunnels and a dingy house or snuck through a closed off space in Nasser Hospital until they finally let her go after fifty-five days. She begs the question, “Why is Hamas treated differently from the Cartels from her home country in Mexico?” The world condemns the Cartels, but they don’t offer the same condemnation of Hamas.

‘Probably because the Cartels are simply armed thugs supported by the corrupt to enrich themselves further, but Hamas are displaced Palestinians who have watched their loved ones get killed and hurt for decades.’ Diana thinks to herself. ‘Or maybe because the Cartels are less dangerous to civilians than the IDF and they didn’t show up in someone else’s home and then call it their own.’ She folds her arms in front of her chest and forces herself to listen as the woman wraps up her statements.

She begins to wonder if they’d be here if she’d stayed in the United Nations all these years. She’d saved the world again and again, but perhaps she could have done more if she’d simply refused to leave their meetings. She could have forced them to be honest. She could have forced them to do the right thing or pushed back against the creation of the Israeli state in an already occupied land. But, such a show of force wouldn’t create lasting peace. The moment someone finally took her down or she went missing for a couple months or years, they’d be right back to their old ways. She’d need to find a way to spread that influence globally so those who seek to harm others would never be left unopposed, but she couldn’t figure out how she’d ever manage to do so. After all, that had been her mission for all these many years. Her impossible task. Her own personal Greek Tragedy.

Perhaps that was why she was truly so upset. For all her power, she’d still been helpless to save these children, their parents, or their grandparents. Truth be told, she didn’t really have much better ideas than what had already been offered. It’s not like she was offering her own Amazonian sisters to fight Israel directly. Though, she’d be lying if she didn’t think that the responses of all those who called for ceasefire, a two party state, and the release of all hostages sounded like they had been scripted and preapproved.

She thinks for a moment. ‘Maybe I don’t have to follow the rules entirely. They’d notice if I started fist fighting the members of the meeting, but these people don’t understand magic in any meaningful way. If I can just find a way to get them to touch the lasso without their knowledge this will become a very different meeting. Maybe I could hide it in my sleeves and shake hands? No. They’d need to touch it actively while they spoke. Maybe private meetings with a few members while it was tied to the back of their chair in a decorative way would work? I could record their conversation. Play it back as evidence against them? No. They’d know I was doing something and they’d just vote to remove me or even all of Themyscira. Maybe-’

“I now give the floor to the representative of Israel.” The old man’s voice cuts off her thoughts. “Thank you Mr. President. I have only one more matter to discuss, but it is very important.” The representative turns to look directly at her. “It has come to the attention of the Israeli Government and our intelligence agencies that members of the so called ‘Justice League’ are arriving within the borders of the Gaza Strip and between that and the ‘Wonder Woman’s’ return to the United Nations, it’s hard not to jump to the conclusion that the Justice League, without the authority of any governing body… Not the U.N. Counsel. Not the United States. Not even the mythical Themyscira… Have taken sides in the ongoing conflict and may be preparing for an attack on a Sovereign Nation. We need to know before we continue… Does Miss Prince have loyalty only to The United Nations and the goal of global peace, or do her allegiances to her home country or her extra-judicial gang of super powered mercenaries perhaps disqualify her from her role within the U.N.? And what are the Justice League doing involving themselves in a complex situation like a war to begin with? Our intelligence has collected information on the whereabouts and activities of only three of the seven founding members, not to mention any of your allies in the expanded roster. We need to have full transparency if she is to stay in her position and we are to hold our military response to their unwanted and unwarranted intrusion. So, my questions to the Representative of Themyscira are as follows; If the counsel makes rulings that are not in the favor of your friends or your birth nation, what will you do about it? And what are your teammates doing and where are they?”

“I thank the representative of Israel for the statement.” The President announces. “I will now give the floor to the representative of Themyscira.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Diana snaps to attention, straightening her back as she looks toward the representative of Israel. “I am aware that you have designated almost the whole of the Gaza Strip, or what remains of the greater nation of Palestine as either active combat zones and evacuation zones. I am also aware of the fact that the presence of heroes who are unbeholden to your safe guards here in the U.N. makes you uncomfortable. However, as you mentioned, the Justice League functions as an extra-judicial gang of super powered vigilantes, though you used the word mercenaries implying that any of us are paid for our work. They are not beholden to the whims of any government. Not yours. Not mine. Not the one we now function as a part of. These are men and women from all around the globe with such great power that they cannot be controlled by any government, though many have tried and failed to assert such control. I’ve been around long enough to see the formation of not only this very governing body, but also many other teams of enhanced and dangerous individuals. Sometimes the only thing that stands between them and global domination is their own lack of desire for such power and authority and other times, it’s only other groups of super powered individuals banding together that can keep them in check. As it stands, due to our efforts to unite as many of these heroes under one banner to defend earth from even greater threats, there are simply no other groups available to stop ours unless you count the villainous groups who split their attention equally between trying to stop us and simultaneously trying to rule or end the world. That leaves us without many options. As such, unfortunately, your discomfort is likely to last as long as the conflict itself. There are those who hold moral objections to the actions of your government. Actions recently described as genocide. I was there for the genocide that created your nation and I must agree. But, I can grant you some reassurances."

She gives the representative her best customer service smile. “I personally, will be pursuing peace in the occupied lands of Palestine through the proper and legal channels to avoid a global conflict. So, you won’t have to know how I dealt with the last group of countries to ignore international human rights through your own experience and you can instead, simply read about it if you become curious. Superman is inside the borders of the Gaza strip with the reporter, Lois Lane of the Daily Planet, who also happens to be his wife. They were sent as a packaged deal when Ms. Lane’s newspaper was bought by the wealthy philanthropist, Bruce Wayne. Apparently, he was deeply upset by your country’s inability to kill terrorists without mass casualties and displacement separating parents from their children by missile strikes and gun fire. Likely because his parents were killed in front of him as a child by a thug with a gun, so he sees a kinship with the Palestinian children and a deep sympathy for the parents who have lost their children thanks to your 20% success rate paired with your 80% civilian toll. Mr. Wayne is after all a father to many children and obviously loves them all dearly. Superman and his wife will merely be documenting and reporting what’s happening inside the conflict since so few reporters are allowed to exist within the borders, much less without getting struck by missiles like the five your government killed in the strike on the hospital earlier this week. He will undoubtedly protect people while he is there, but he also has x-ray vision, so if you’re striking armed combatants he may let you fight it out amongst yourselves. Nothing can be done about this situation. You will simply have to accept the terms as they are. He has stated that he will not be seeking violence and is not there to end the war himself. I would however double check before your strikes to make sure you don’t accidently strike him, his wife, or the civilians in the area. He’s a hero, a father, a husband, and a good man. As long as you keep that in mind while your soldiers follow their orders there should be no trouble from his presence.”

She takes a sip of water from her bottle and continues, “The Flash is on the borders ensuring that legally paid for, transported, and searched aid, also sent by Mr. Wayne, makes it to its destination safely. He has similar feelings about the treatment of children and families inside Gaza and has been asked to guard the trucks from the settlers that your government has not seen fit to reign in since they keep attacking aid at the borders before it can be allowed through. He will also be instrumental in delivering aid to the worst affected by malnutrition, sickness, and starvation without allowing such aid to fall into the hands of Hamas once the borders finally open. You have nothing to worry about from him. Even his own villains in Central City will attest to the fact that he’s nothing if not fair, effective, and mostly pacifistic. He uses only the amount of force necessary to defuse a situation and has stated that he intends to cooperate with the border closures. His only stated goal is to save lives.”

“Green Lantern has informed us of a larger set of rules he must adhere to and as such he will not be involved in the conflict in any capacity, though I should mention he also does not support the actions of Israel and will have to comply with any orders issued by the higher authorities within the Green Lantern Corps.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Aside from those three and myself, I cannot account for the actions or whereabouts of the others. I have not personally discussed the conflict with the broader reserves of the Justice League and what they do in their personal time is up to them as we rarely step in on matters being handled by individual members. As for the other three that I have discussed this with, the ultimate decision of the League was to operate within the bounds of international law and not to operate as an army for either side of the conflict. The discussion was, however, not favorable to the Israeli Government or their military. Batman, Aquaman, and Martian Manhunter shared their concerns about the activity they’re seeing, how it could affect the future, and the heavy human cost of continued hostilities. One is a shadow who even within the League has a history of disobeying laws and decisions made by the larger body, another is a shapeshifting alien with no proper allegiances to any nation, and another still is nearly as powerful as Superman, controls the ocean, and happens to be a king. They can all disappear at a moment’s notice, go pretty much wherever they please, and would have no reason not to get involved outside of the fact that a vote was held and for one reason or another the leadership which they’re a part of decided against a direct confrontation or involvement.”

She crosses her arms across her chest and finishes her statement in Hebrew. “That’s the best I can do as far as assurances that League members won’t involve themselves. If we tried to directly confront any of the members it would only create a rift in the greatest defense force this planet and many others have against even greater threats and it would likely push those who are at peace right now into a more hands on approach to the conflict. It would be a new world war, but with city leveling powers at play on every battle field. For now, it’s best to stand aside and allow them to follow the rules to the best of their ability. I’m truly saddened by what happened on the night of October seventh, including your abduction and subsequent abuse Ms. Gritzewsky, however it is time for the nation of Israel to recognise that their actions have consequences. They must comply with international law. They must end the genocide of Palestinian people. They must return behind their own borders and seek peace before the option moves too far out of reach. I hope that they can fully understand the gravity of the situation they are in and that they choose the best option going forward, not for just the Palestinians, nor just for themselves, but for the world as a whole. Right now, the situation is contained, the international community is still trying to remedy the violence, and we’re quite busy with other matters. But, this cannot continue forever. If the U.N. and of course Israel and Palestine fail to end this and the rest of the world manages to stabilize, I cannot promise that the situation will remain the same within the borders of the conflict definitely.” She looks back and forth at the representatives from both nations hoping they understand. “I yield." She finishes.

The president’s face erupts in alarm as he looks around and the murmurs from all the representatives start to get louder. “There are no more names inscribed on the list of speakers. The meeting stands adjourned.” He taps his gavel and rushes out of the room.

Diana stands and walks away with the Israeli representative in hot pursuit behind her. He practically chases her through the halls, but the larger than life hero slips through the crowds more fluidly than he does and by the time he shoves the door open to get outside she’s straddling Jumpa and flying off in a hurry to make sure the girls didn’t run into too much trouble while she was busy.

Chapter Text

Gaza City, Palestine

Tanks and soldiers begin to move into formation as Dick and Damian make their way back into the occupied territory. “B, this is looking really bad. The city is barely standing as it is. How do we stop a tank from blowing what’s left apart?” Dick grimaces, still a bit sore from their fight in Khan Younis the night before.

“You don’t. They’re going to destroy the area. If you focus on taking down the soldiers or the tanks, you’ll just exhaust yourself and the missiles will continue to do most of the work. Focus on evacuation. People will be buried under the rubble, medics will stay to save them, families will get separated by the destruction and chaos. Get them out as fast as possible. Anyone still left over will be torn apart by missiles or trapped for good in those buildings.” Batman sits at the computer monitoring radio communication between the higher ups in the IDF. “It sounds like you’ll have approximately one hour. Be prepared for that timeline to shift if they see you evacuating people.”

“Understood. Move quickly, don’t get caught.” Damian stretches.

“What do we do if people don’t want to go?” Dick asks, hesitant to hear the answer.

“Leave them.” Bruce and Damian speak in unison. “We’ll just have to hope that they survive. We can’t hope to convince them to leave if a war can’t and we can’t spare the time if it could be used to save the next person. If they have a specific reason they can’t then help them the best you can, but each rescue needs to take less than two minutes on average if we’re going to save the maximum amount of lives.”

Dick straddles the bike and takes off into the city with Damian close behind him. “Copy. Zoureg out.”

Soon, they find streets full of people trying to make it out as fast as they can with what little they can carry. Parents carry a child on each hip as they rush through the streets, older children carry any aid they still have, the elderly try their best to keep pace with their families. It’s pandemonium as everyone clutches whatever matters most to them. A woman searches for her daughter calling out her name and pushing back through the crowds unable to hear her little girl crying just a couple dozen feet away until Damian drops into the crowd at the little girl’s side, takes her hand, and starts to pull her through to her mother before disappearing back into the crowd before they can even get a proper look at him or thank him.

Dick sees an old man struggling to keep up with his family and helps him onto the back of the motorcycle before rushing them off to their rendezvous point outside of the city using the autopilot while he grapples to a higher point for a better vantage point.

The pair work tirelessly to help anyone they can find to make it to their destination, with Damian using his motorcycle anytime it’s empty of passengers to send any cats he finds while searching the buildings far away from harm.

Soon, the crowds dissipate and the boys start to clear the buildings. They find amputees without an ability to escape fast enough, elderly and sick citizens who didn’t want to slow down their families, pregnant women and their families too close to their due dates to travel the miles it would take to get to safety. Each sent off with medications and 3D printed prosthetics as the Snakecycles make endless round trips.

Outside, they hear a loud BOOM and the air pressure changes. “Shit! They weren’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes!” Dick exclaims as both boys rush to a window to see what is happening outside. There’s no sign of new damage, but the dust on the ground has been kicked up. In the middle of it, Lois stands with her camera snapping pictures quickly. She looks up with the camera and snaps a series of pictures of the two heroes hanging out of the windows. She rests the camera on her neck strap and smiles waving at the pair.

“I assume you two don’t have time to make a statement?” The woman waves away the dust around her.

“Mrs. Lane? What are you doing here? They’re planning to attack in just a few minutes!” Dick calls down to her.

“I come with a hyper-sonic, god-like, husband and extraordinary luck. I’ll be just fine. You two on the other hand have scraped by just barely on too many occasions. Might want to get headed out before they notice you’re here.” Lois takes a look around while pointing in the direction of the evacuation.

“Can’t. Not yet.” Damian calls down.

Lois smiles. “That’s about what I expected. Carry on then. You’ve got help and I’ve got protection, so don’t worry about me.” She waves gently at the boys while running down the street raising her camera to get a closer look through the zoom so she can find the best pictures to go with her story.

Overhead, a streak of red and blue blurs past and the boom and pressure change returns before disappearing down the street.

Damian and Dick return to their search leaping between buildings and into windows to find anyone still interested in leaving, but more and more they find people who’ve lost everything and refuse to lose their homes again. Prayers get more and more common as they beg their god to be with them. Hurt children beg their families to leave them behind so they won’t be slowed down. Many of the remaining citizens prepare to document the destruction with nothing more than their phones.

The deeper into the city they go the more they find. Just under a million with nowhere to go and nowhere they’d want to go.

Then, they hear a new sound. Concrete blows apart. A shockwave rocks through the streets. The crack and boom are deafening as they strike the first residential building. The tower begins to crumble to dust as Superman drops off the last group to flee and takes off towards the tower. The two young heroes grapple one of his legs and brace themselves for the rough yank off the ground. He smacks into the side of the building and catches one of the floors trying to keep it all from crumbling before they can save more lives, but it’s like holding up a sand castle. The boys fly through a lower level window slamming into the ground and getting back up after a quick roll. They lock eyes with a mother and her four children as the building falls apart around them. The floor gives out and Zoureg and Falak dive in to catch them. The falling debris beats them as they drag themselves across the floor by grappling the building across the street and all six fall to the ground below, barely saving themselves by digging their fangs into the rubble and sliding down as the family clings tightly to them. Their motorcycles link on the sides allowing them to lay the whole family across a broader surface and send them away from the destruction, but Superman can see the cataclysmic consequences more clearly. He spots a young man about to be crushed and dives in, tearing through the concrete and taking him in his arms to protect him.

They do their best to save as many lives as possible, but casualties stack quickly. Even those who are saved are often badly hurt by the strikes. Damian remembers the feeling of the dead and braces for what they’ll find once they emerge from the rubble, but the mass casualties take a deeper toll on Dick. They lost people in Gotham. They saw literal demons roaming the streets on multiple occasions. But, something about this felt more sick. This wasn’t mental illness driving people to madness and tragedy. It wasn’t monsters tearing apart bodies on instinct. These soldiers were humans without humanity.

Superman changes strategy, moving to the outer rim of the city and directly blocking missiles, but no matter how many he detonates, more arrive and soon they begin to use firebombs, lighting the streets with the appearance of hell on earth, scorching survivors trying to hide in their homes, and complicating his efforts to destroy the bombs before they hit the ground when they simply detonate midair and throw their flames over the area and his body anyways. Staring down at the destruction with his suit resisting the flames, he decides it’s too dangerous for the others. He zips over to his wife and grabs the superheroes in one arm, flying them to guide the others to their new temporary homes among the tents. “It’s not enough.” He grits his teeth. “They won’t leave and the army won’t stop pushing into the city. We need a different approach.”

Dick and Damian lay down in the road to rest their bodies while they wait for their bikes to return. “Agreed.” Damian groans.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing that we’re not just fighting this one way then isn’t it?” Lois scribbles more notes into her notebook. “It’s not up to just you three to end this. Everyone’s doing something and that’s the only way this will finally stop. Not with muscles and powers, but stories, data, money, public outcry and pressure, physical resistance, medicine, etc. Peace only lasts as long as everyone agrees it does and right now that’s not happening, no matter how many bones you break or how many lives you take.” She hugs Clark from behind and gets on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You boys have done your part. Let someone else handle their part next.”

“At a maximum, there’s approximately four thousand people that would need to die for global peace to be achieved.” Damian mutters with his eyes closed.

“No.” Superman corrects him. “That would just delay the violence another couple years. It would plunge the world into control based on fear, but when you let their anger fester eventually it would overcome the fear and lead to the next wave of violence. That’s why you can’t win a war by fighting it. For instance, if I were to clap with Mr. Netanyahu’s head in between my hands-” “Clark!?” Lois elbows the Man of Steel in the rib and gives him a look of surprise and mild amusement at the darker thought from her husband. “Of course I wouldn’t, but if I did he’d have justified it ten times over. That wouldn’t stop his family from mourning the loss of their loved one no matter how monstrous he is and it wouldn’t stop his citizens from feeling justified in their fear and hatred of those they see as a threat and in either case eventually someone would try to avenge him. Ultimately, the reason your father and I don’t kill is beyond our own personal lack of desire to hurt others. Joker has made your father consider breaking his rule countless times and I’ve thought about taking over to save every innocent life every day of my life since I discovered my power, but neither of us will ever cross that line even if we wanted to because of the demons it would raise.”

“I’d argue it goes a little deeper for both of you.” Lois tucks the notebook away and steps back. “But, he’s not wrong Damian. Killing always leads to more problems.”

Damian sits up and watches as the bikes approach. “I do not disagree with you entirely, but it’s hard not to wonder if it would be worth it to roll the dice and see if the new problems are a little smaller even if there’s more of them.” He straddles the bike and gets ready to go back into action. “Probably not though.”

Chapter Text

Batcave, Gotham City

Alfred checks Helena’s eyes with a small flashlight as she sits on a medical bed. The light reflects back and her pupils constrict to fine slits as she struggles not to squint. Bruce and Selina stand at the end of the bed.

“Please turn your head, Miss Helena.” Alfred pulls back wearing his best poker face, though entirely unsure what is happening to his granddaughter. She turns and he checks her ears. “Now, stick out your tongue if you’d be so kind?”

Helena opens wide and sticks her tongue out, fighting the urge to roll her eyes back as a reference to a meme that no one in the room would understand and unwilling to explain it since it would just sound worse if she did. It just felt so awkward. She wanted to break the tension with a joke, but what could she say to cut the tension of a situation like this?

Alfred notes her elongated top cuspids, but aside from the split pupil and reflection under light there didn’t appear to be any real change that anyone would notice in day to day life. In all honesty under normal lighting conditions one might simply assume that she was related to her father since the cuspids were still well within the normal range for a human. Maybe he was just looking for anything at all that would give them more clues. Neither Bruce nor Selena ever displayed a metahuman gene, dormant or otherwise. They were exceptional humans, but hardly enhanced.

Over the next hour they hooked electrodes to her head, checked her hearing, various light spectrums, strength, agility, and blood samples. The results were mixed. Elevated adrenaline levels, access to higher and lower sound frequencies, better low light vision, no measurable changes in strength, faster reaction speed, and a newly activated meta gene.

Helena looks over the results of the tests. “So, I’m barely super powered and have new eyes?”

“Time will tell.” Bruce takes the sample of her blood to run further tests. “That’s why I don’t like working with metahuman or super powered beings in general. It’s hard enough to navigate super powered villains and their unpredictable evolutions. Working with someone as their powers change mid fight is just as challenging.”

“What your father means to say is that metahumans don’t usually evolve all at once and even after they have, finding their powers, weaknesses, and how that will affect their lives going forward is sometimes a process that takes years.” Selina gives Bruce a look that says they’ll be talking about that slip up later.

“Right. You’re not a challenge and I understand that you’re not being difficult. Metahuman abilities can just be very dangerous and random, so one day it’s new blue eyes and the next it’s laser vision that can level a city in seconds.” Bruce attempts to correct his mistake, but with his eyes locked into a microscope rather than looking at anyone else as he speaks it’s hard to take him seriously.

“That I can’t disagree with.” Selena sighs deeply. “It’s going to take some getting used to and in the meantime we’ll have to pull you from school.”

“I mean, not much of a loss there. I’ve got a computer with access to classified information, a family library on the verge of needing to be expanded, and access to the best tutors in the world.” Helena smiles and her eyes fade back to their normal forest green color. “I’ll probably learn better without having to deal with other students anyways.”

Selina’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but she quickly signals to Alfred and jokes back, “Maybe I’ll be able to rest a little easier knowing you’re not picking fights for a while too.”

Alfred sits down by the bed and checks the young girl’s eyes again. “It appears to be a stress response. It must have been triggered by fear or anger at the attack. Now that the stress has subsided, she’s returning to a baseline.”

“Not uncommon, but not my favorite condition for how powers present. We’ll have to work on self-regulating practices to make sure it doesn’t trigger in a situation where it could be a liability.” Bruce remarks.

“Oh, boy. More mandatory training. That should be lots of fun.” Helena says. Sarcasm dripping off every word.

“It’s not about fun. It’s about making sure you don’t accidentally reveal to a supervillain WHO you are or discover that you melt when touched by water in the middle of a swimming pool. Powers come with extra precautions because if you don’t control them they can control or harm you or those around you. Who’s to say you were even yourself while your powers were active and not some alternate personality that simply acted in accordance with your usual mannerisms and wishes? The next time they activate they could be completely different. Maybe you’ll have the power to increase the velocity of a Batarang after it’s been thrown and end up throwing one through a wall and into a hostage’s chest because you got stressed on a mission? Or maybe you’ll end up with the power to generate bioelectricity while in a pool of gasoline and end up becoming a bomb that blows up a city block? You could end up emitting pheromones that change the trajectory of a fight from saving civilians to escaping from a giant monster that’s now completely infatuated with you. There are quite literally no limits to how these powers could change your life.” Bruce rambles with worry starting to creep into his tone.

“Got it. No jokes about my powers until we rule out accidental murder, self-exploding, or aunt Pam’s pheromones.” Helena half jokes realizing how many of their extended family would actually be pretty screwed if they didn’t know how to control their powers.

Bruce straightens up and looks at Selena. “Aunt Pam?”

Selena chuckles. “Oh, come on. She’s heard stories about my adventures with the girls almost as long as she’s been interested in crime fighting and they’re reformed-ish now.”

“She’s an eco terrorist.” Bruce remarks.

“They’re my best friends and heroes at their core.” Selena argues.

“They once killed the Mayor together!” Bruce counters.

“Harley was almost her stepmother! You dated for two years!” Selena laughs back at her husband.

“WHAT???” Helena laughs. “YOU DATED AUNTIE HARL?!”

“That was different. She needed help and we got close.” Bruce defends himself.

“And then she went and tried to kill her ex for a couple years, but now she’s turned over a new leaf… Don’t acknowledge that pun, either of you… And they make such a good couple and they’ve been a great influence on Jason’s return to less violent crime fighting and they absolutely adore Helena.” Selena tries to reason with Bruce.

“Fine, but I want updates on what they’ve been talking to her about. I know they’re good people on the inside, but they should both still be in Arkham. They’re not quite sane yet.” Bruce sinks into his chair obviously rattled by the stress of the past year and a half.

“Bruce, I love you. But, we’re a whole family of mostly animal themed, armored and costumed, criminals who fight criminals obsessively. Sane shouldn’t be in our vocabulary.” Selena walks over and sits in Bruce’s lap wrapping an arm around the back of his neck.

“Alllright, that’s my que to get headed out.” Helena slips off the end of the bed and starts walking toward the stairs into the Manor. “I’ll be sure not to blow up.”

“I’ll have dinner ready in fifteen minutes, Miss Helena.” Alfred follows after her quickly, removing his latex gloves.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Helena sets the smoke bombs from her pocket on the table and continues to her room.

As the old man and their daughter disappear around the corner Bruce takes a deep breath and tries to relax his tense muscles, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of his chair.

“You’re doing a good job.” Selena says comfortingly.

“It’s all falling apart.” Bruce whispers. “I don’t think it was ever really together in the first place, but it’s crumbling faster than I can fix now.”

“Nobody said you had to do it alone.”

“I did. And I’m beyond trying to do it alone now. I’m pulling every string, using every resource, mobilizing every ally we have, but it’s not enough.” Bruce says broodingly.

“It’s only been fifteen years. Compare that with the hundreds of thousands of years of human history you weren’t even there for. You’re making a difference. It’s just going to take time to fix a world broken by hundreds of billions of people.” Selena tries to be reassuring.

“It’s not that. I expect myself to save the world, but even just my smaller goals are out of reach. I don’t even have MY life together anymore. Two kids I didn’t know existed for years, one kid I didn’t save who then came back and tore up the city, a teen pregnancy followed by a complete mental breakdown, a new kid every month, a marriage to a woman who can’t even take my last name on official documents or she risks losing her right to vote, and two of my children in an active war zone as we fight a holocaust on all fronts. Even by perfectly normal standards, my life is a complete mess and there’s nothing more I can do to fix it without starting a world or civil war or time travelling and risking messing things up even worse. I’ve been Batman for fifteen years and a Wayne for thirty three and it seems like all I’m doing is slowing down a train on a direct path towards a mountain of TNT.” Bruce raises a hand to his forehead bracing for a headache as the tension persists.

“Life is messy. As long as you do something good with it you’re on the right track. We’ll get things fixed up. You’ve taught these kids and a fair amount of our allies how to handle random problems. They’ll figure out the pieces of the puzzle that even the great and grand Batman can’t and it will work out okay.” Selena teases.

Bruce smirks. “Still can’t help taking me down a peg even if I lower my standards?”

“You can’t be serious ALL the time. Sometimes when life is absurd you just have to look at the positives and laugh at the shit that smacks you in the face out of nowhere. It’s objectively funny how hard you try to fix the world only for it to blow up in your face every time and it’s inspiring and sweet that you keep trying anyways.” Selena kisses Bruce.

“The never ending battle.” Bruce kisses Selena back. “I guess I’ll just have to figure out what to do with the world later. For now, I shou-”

“Should get dinner and rest.” Selena cuts him off, fully aware that he’s about to try going out on patrol. “After you take care of the bare minimum for your body you can run an investigation into who exactly managed to fight well enough to get two shots off on you and why they were sent after you tonight.” She sits up and takes Bruce by the hand leading him out of the cave.

“Status reports are in an hour.” Bruce protests.

“And you only sleep for two. Now, get upstairs before I have Alfred disconnect a random part in each of your vehicles and change the codes on every bit of tech and all the safes in here while I take your cowl and give it to Stephanie to decorate.” Selena threatens.

Bruce caves and follows her lead up the stairs.

Elsewhere in the city the team of heroes finishes up their work of removing or incapacitating federal agents and meets to discuss the emergency alert Alfred sent out half an hour prior. It’s bare bones. “Level 10 alert. No coms. Trust A-Home, B-1, C-1, HW-1, R-1, R-2, R-3, R-4, S-1, BB-1, BG-1 only. High level combatant. Casualty in our favor. Likely more combatants. Possible ID leaks. Meet in BC for details.”

“Anyone know what this is about?” Jason asks as he pulls the Bat cowl back and reveals his red domino mask.

“No, but it sounds like it’ll be a pain in the ass. I was kinda hoping I’d make it home in time to crash on the couch after an episode of The Dragon Prince before the baby wakes back up.” Stephanie pouts.

“Well, if we get down there fast enough, maybe we can still work that into the schedule. I could also just take care of her for the morning shift if things go sideways on us.” Tim suggests.

The batmobile screeches to a stop on the street below and the four vigilantes drop down into the seats. “I wonder why it’s only us though. Normally a level ten would still at least merit a meeting with Duke and Kate. Besides, no coms means Dick and Damian will be out of the loop. It’s not like B to isolate quite this much anymore. Even if he did, Alfred would probably disobey him just to try to keep more of us safe.” Jason thinks out loud. “Something’s really fucked.” He races down the road toward the cave.

They pull into the cave and find that Alfred has set the table for them in the cave with fresh garlic alfredo cheese tortellini. Barbara sits with the baby monitor in front of her. They get out of the car and stride up to their plates ready to dig in.

“Welcome back. We have much to discuss. First, settle your stomachs, but leave the suits on and ready for a battle.” Alfred smiles as he ladles out their pasta fresh from the pot.

Chapter Text

Batcave, Gotham

“It’s starting to feel like we’re a little outnumbered and outmatched.” Tim says with his head tilted back. “Do we have a plan outside of, hope we don’t get assassinated?”

“We have an advantage. They have to act in secret. They wouldn’t be using assassinations and threats from the shadows if they could operate openly.” Jason comments.

“Who’s to say they’re not operating more openly? If Bruce is right, this could just be the Gotham branch of a global conspiracy. It would make sense for them to hold back with Batman around and all the chaos of the city still ramping up out of their control, but now that a lot of the city is improving and there’s more for us to be handling globally and even intergalactically, they might be able to show their hand more. It probably just benefits them to have access to the soft controls for a lot of the villains. Take a look at the list of potential members. There’s got to be at least a dozen immortals on there and most of them have stepped into the light at one time or another.” Barbara explains.

“So, no. Just stay on high alert and hope Bruce is wrong. Got it.” Tim rocks forward in his seat as the stress starts to eat at him.

Stephanie thinks for a moment. “No. This attack means something. They’re backed into a corner. They didn’t have as much information as they needed. If they sent just one assassin after Batman AND Catwoman, with a gun toting butler and their daughter, and all he had on him was a pair of guns then they must have either thought he was a normal civilian they could take down quietly. Or at the very least, they didn’t think Batman would let the rest of them stay around and they could maybe win a fight with him out of costume if they used guns to even the playing field.”

Tim nods and shakes a finger out in front of himself like he’s tracking points of data on a screen. “The fact they didn’t attack us while we were taking down the agents is another clue. They might have wanted us to or they didn’t have the resources to fight a group and figured they’d try to pick us off one by one at our weakest.”

Jason leans back in his chair. “Well, I guess we should try to figure out who the next target will be then. At this point, they’ll know for sure that someone skilled enough to exchange blows with Batman was killed taking on a teen girl, an old man, and a pair of socialites. That would definitely raise some suspicions. So, let’s assume best case scenario they didn’t know Bruce was Batman. They know someone in that group has some serious fighting skills and a gun. Doesn’t exactly scream Batman, but there’s only so many people even in Gotham that would fight at that level and I doubt they assumed Alfred was still sparring at that level, so they’ll assume Bruce is a cape. If they dig a little deeper they’ll probably figure out the timing of Bruce’s return to Gotham aligns with the emergence of the Batman in the old costume. They’ll be able to track each of his adoptions pretty easy so all Robins past and present are on their radar. I’m dead though, so they may have lost my scent. Steph and the kid are probably in the crosshairs though since it’s public knowledge that you two dated. We should probably up surveillance on Duke and his family to make sure they’re alright too. I doubt they’ll go after anyone who’s not active in the city, but even if they wanted to it would be harder to track down the others. Babs and Kate are probably fine too. No public ties to anyone else outside of Kate’s distant family ties and the fact Babs sometimes hangs out with Steph and Cass.”

“Guess Bruce was right to make handing off the baby a top secret event.” Stephanie laughs nervously. “It would really such to have to play keep away with a Batman level threat.”

Alfred raises his hand. “In all fairness, young Miss Stephanie, I was there and that was not a Batman level threat. They had every advantage, caught Master Bruce at one of his weakest moments, and only managed to shoot his target because The Master simply couldn’t be sure there wasn’t anyone else around and he was certain his body armor would stop the rounds. Had we not been there or had The Master had a better environment or any of his usual gadgets, he’d be in a hospital unconscious, but not dead. A skilled assassin for sure, but there’s no reason to believe they have an army of Batmen to attack the Manor with. I believe it is most likely that they either knew he was Batman, but expected the suit did the heavy lifting so they might be able to take him down without it, or they had no idea and when they find their dead assassin they’ll get suspicious. As such, it only makes sense that we would keep everyone at the Manor for the next several days until we know more. We’ll go out in teams of two when necessary out of costume and maintain higher vigilance while on patrols.”

Cass nods and grabs Stephanie to call “dibs”. Steph smiles and rests her hand on her friend’s. “I guess we’re teaming up.”

“Let’s have Tim stick with the baby and Barbara then. You’ll be able to do the most damage from the Clock Tower computer systems and take care of the baby full time. I’ll be alright on my own. Alfred can go out with Bruce and Selena since they can clearly handle things together. Stakes are a little lower over in Bludhaven anyways. If the kid needs a place to get the hang of her powers, I could bring her there for a little in the field training. She’d be safe and pretty much no matter what her powers turn out to be, the main problem is kind of a tanky heavy hitter with anger issues, so she can’t accidentally kill him.” Jason jokes.

“I’ve heard worse ideas, but what about Duke and Kate? I don’t think their schedules really line up to cover each other and we’re not allowed to talk about it with them, so their guard won’t be up.” Stephanie asks.

“We can’t rule out Kate’s involvement with this group. She’s suspiciously proficient in a fight, in immediate proximity to Bruce, and one of the first people who went on his list. For Duke’s part in all this, he’s already got the emergency com to summon any of us at any time and the less he knows the better. If we can keep him out of this entirely I’ll be happy.” Barbara explains.

“He’s a fast kid. If he runs into trouble he’ll be able to evade long enough for us to get to him. And she’s boxed with both Bruce and Selina in the past. If Bruce can take them out of costume she can probably take them in hers. Besides, I’m sure determining her allegiances will be on of the first things Bruce does when he gets back in the field.” Jason assures the others.

“I’ll give Bruce sixteen hours, but after that if he can’t verify that telling either of them would be a threat I’m filling them both in. Duke is fast, but I’m not letting him get jumped because Bruce is paranoid and Kate hasn’t done anything to suggest she’d be part of some super secret conspiracy.” Stephanie declares.

“I watch tonight.” Cass raises two fingers indicating that she’s planning to watch both vigilantes during their patrols tonight and through the afternoon during Duke’s next patrol.

“I can’t argue with that.” Jason shrugs acknowledging the risk to their friends.

“I can.” Tim interjects. “If we’re wrong this situation goes to shit. I get that we want them safe, but both of them have a history of their curiosity getting the best of them and running their own investigations. One is still trying to prove himself. The other breaks Batman’s rules like it’s her job. If we fill them in we could end up with a confrontation with whatever group this is before we’re ready. They could be taken hostage or killed. They could reveal information about our operations. They could reveal the identities of people the assassins don’t know about. There’s actually so many different reasons not to tell them I can’t list them all. We’re not getting Babs and the baby in the crosshairs just to save two people who probably aren’t targets in the first place and who have every ability to take care of themselves in a fight.”

Stephanie glares at Tim. “There’s Batman Jr. We’ve trusted them with our lives. They should be able to trust us with theirs. You were JUST saying you felt like we were outnumbered. We need the allies and we have them. I’m telling tomorrow night. Cass will keep them alive until then. If you’re worried, bring me proof that they’re a danger. Otherwise, if you try to stop me I’ll just wait until you’re sleeping and tell them anyways.”

“I’ll let the young master know after sixteen hours to put Miss Stephanie’s mind at ease. If Master Bruce hasn’t discovered a credible threat in Miss Kate by then I’m sure he’ll let her know himself, but if he fails to do so I’ll handle the notification myself. Now, the both of you go upstairs and take some time for rest and relaxation. You have done exceptional work tonight and there’s no need for you to end it bitterly simply because you’re tired and stressed. I’ll handle the evening shift. Off to bed.” Alfred reprimands the pair as he goes to tend to their child.

“Yes, Alfred.” Tim replies.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Stephanie talks over Tim.

The two young parents go up stairs and leave Cass and Jason behind in the cave. “Want some company while you watch over Kate?” Jason offers.

Cass smiles and nods cheerfully.

Jason nods back and goes to change into his own costume. He emerges holding his helmet and clad in his black chestplate armor with a brown leather jacket and holsters. He checks his guns and holsters them on his thighs. Cass frowns and stares at the guns then up at Jason’s eyes with a glare. “Yeah, I know. No killing.” He unclips a magazine from his belt. “Look. Just stun rounds. Meaner than a taser, but even less dangerous.” He shows her the barbs on the end.

She walks up and reaches behind him under the brown leather jacket. Her hand pulls back with two magazines with live ammunition. “Liar.” She announces angrily. She jabs a finger at the red bat symbol on the front of his armor. “Symbol means-”

“I know! I know. No killing. I got it. I’m not anymore. I just can’t get rid of them all.” Jason opens up, pulling away from the young girl’s finger and taking back the magazines. “I promise. I’m making new rounds to handle more situations and they’re all non-lethal now. I just don’t want to be in a situation where I have no choice but to choose a civilian life or one of these monsters on the street and have nothing that can make it there fast enough to save them and get rid of the danger.”

She analyzes his body language for a few moments before determining he’s telling the truth. “Skill issue.” She pulls a batarang and throws it perfectly striking a mosquito in the cave before a bat swoops down to eat the bisected pieces.

Jason smiles and rolls his eyes at the over the top demonstration. “Point taken, Bat Brat. I’ll work on getting better with my training and until then, I’lll refrain from using the live rounds for any violence.”

Cass smiles and climbs on her batcycle powering it on and pulling her cowl back over her face. Jason smiles back and grabs the keys to the Batmobile to take it for a joyride for the night.

Chapter Text

Gaza City, Palestine

Damian and Dick wake up first thing in the morning and discretely change into civilian clothes to help aid the displaced as much as possible in the tent city while Superman and Lois fly back into the city to see about slowing down the progression of soldiers through the streets and keep as many missiles from landing as possible.

The boys retrieve medical supplies from their bikes and begin to patch up civilians going tent to tent. More displaced people arrive every hour and many are more injured than those who made it to the tents on the first day. Tears cut through the dust on their cheeks as they mourn their loved ones lost in the crowds, taken by the military, or crushed beneath their old homes. Their cries ring throughout the streets and into the tents, “Allah is sufficient.” Damian stitches, cuts, and sets bones listening to the cries passively. He can’t tell if they genuinely believe or if they’re just clinging desperately to any sense of safety they can find in such a hostile environment. After all, Christians and Jews lost their faith in huge numbers during the Holocaust. It would make sense if they lost their faith too. But, so many sounded so sincere. How were they clinging to this belief? Babies with lost limbs were pouring into the camps. Their caretakers barely had the strength to get them to safety. Still, they prayed and proclaimed the greatness of a god they’d never met and couldn’t see.

Dick watches as the same families pour in eager for help for their little ones. Parents comforting their children. Hugs exchanged covered in blood and dust. Children finding their friends again and their relief obvious in their faces and body language. He wonders what it must be like. The worry for your children, seeing them find joy in the carnage, dreaming of the world they’ll create one day. It’s sweet. Nerve wracking, but sweet. The people are so full of gratitude for anything someone does to help them. From simple bandaids to helping with concussions, they’re always full of smiles.

Between waves of injured newcomers, they distribute bottled water and nutrition bars to those who were finally settling in. They feed babies formula while their mothers and fathers get a chance to sleep. They give out medicine, tell stories of a caped crusader and his boy wonder who fight injustice, and later in the afternoon they perform acrobatic stunts and juggle to entertain the families.

The sound of an explosion and a tremor through the ground breaks the carefully crafted peace. Screams erupt as everyone turns to face the smoke rising in the middle of the tents. The boys rush to help the survivors and extinguish the fires, but no sooner do they get the first fire put out than another missile comes. Then another, and another. The children they’d soothed now screaming and terrified hide in the arms of their still exhausted parents or lay in pieces on the ground as their siblings try to collect them, begging the young men to help them fix their brothers and sisters while shock takes their minds and clouds their realities. Finally, getting the fires put out the boys have a moment to think.

Damian grits his teeth. His eyes narrow under his furrowed brows. He calls the motorcycle to his location and starts to walk away from the tents with Dick in hot pursuit coming after him.

“Where are you going?” Dick asks, trying to redirect Damian back to the fires.

“We’re going about this the wrong way, ‘Rashad.’ What we do here doesn’t matter. These people are dead already.” Damian snaps. “We need to extinguish the threat, not treat the wounded.”

“We need to do both or we’ll never see an end to this violence.” Dick lectures. “If we don’t help the people who get hurt then stopping the threat is only to punish them for their wrongdoing, not to help their victims to receive justice.” Dick grabs Damian’s shoulder to stop him and the young boy flips around on one leg to land a kick to his older brother’s head only for the Dick to catch his foot and toss him backwards. “What are you going to do then? How do you intend to stop the cycle of violence once and for all?”

“I will kill them all.” Damian’s voice grows dark with rage and pain.

“Cool. We’re back to that again. There’s a couple problems with that though. First, you can’t take me in a fight. We don’t kill, so I’ll stop you.”

“Shut up!” Damian screams.

“Second, that’s a whole nation. They’re brainwashed with propaganda and almost all of them are forced into service. If you want to kill them all, that’s a genocide and that’s kind of what we’re here to stop.” Dick continues.

Damian leaps up throwing a punch right for Dick’s face only to be blocked and put into an arm bar.

“Third, there’s more going on here than just the IDF. Let’s say you succeed in your dumbass quest. One of the remaining militant groups will fill the power vacuum and continue the violence. That’s if the rest of the world doesn’t see a blood lusted little gremlin tearing apart a group of minorities on a country-scale and decide they don’t want that little shit coming to their country. Then, they’d just bomb the shit out of this place to get rid of you.”

Damian dislocates his thumb and slips out of Dick’s grasp trying to sweep the older boy’s legs out from under him as he resets his thumb back into place.

Dick leaps back to avoid the hits. “Even with how angry you are right now we’ve got to keep our heads cool and help where we can rather than rushing through. Not everyone can be saved and that sucks. People are going to be scarred by this permanently. Both physically and mentally. Us included. But, if we stand our ground and fight to save these lives maybe we can keep their families from turning to retribution and ruining the peace that we help to build. We can go kick ass later. Right now, we’re more needed here. Now, get your head on straight and show these people that they matter.”

Damian stiffens thinking through the logic as his brother speaks. His rage bristles throughout his body and he can hear his own heartbeat, but if there’s a flaw in the argument he can’t find it. Tears begin to stream down his face and his legs buckle under him as he collapses to his knees. “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The boy’s scream of anger rolls out like trapped thunder.

“I get it. It’s frustrating. But, this is what we do. We make the hard choices and we sacrifice to help others.” Dick kneels down and hugs his little brother. “We’ll get through it.”

Damian considers jabbing dick in the ribs and trying to break away, but he’s too tired. Not from a lack of sleep or lack of quality, but just from the constant repetition and unfairness. From constantly knowing that the never ending battle really is never ending. Knowing that believing what his family does or looking like they do can label someone as lesser. Undeserving of decisive action. Undeserving of equal treatment. Knowing how objectively superior to everyone around him he needed to be just to be seen as an equal much less treated with the respect and reverence that he’d grown up with in The League. Even as the heir to a massive fortune, a genius level intellect, and unmatched physical prowess, there were still those who looked down on him or tried to rob him of the achievements he earned just because they were too ignorant to learn another language or culture and too hateful to see people as people. Too many people. People just like him and his grandfather. Who saw themselves as the only beings worthy of their lives.

Supremacy. Simple, corrupting, corrosive. Most of all, lethal. How many lives had he claimed in the name of the same basic ideology? He had his family to pull him back from it. To give him a reality check. But, how could they possibly do the same for a whole nation of people? Beyond that. For Zionists around the world? He hated them for what they did. What they believed. What they shared in common with him. He wanted to tear that part of himself out. He wanted to erase his past. But, no matter how hard he tried to reject them, there they were. Always staring him in the face like a demon sitting on his chest and choking him to a death that would never come.

Still, no matter how much he hated himself in that moment, he could feel his oldest brother’s love and acceptance like a warm blanket wrapped around him. One he didn’t deserve, but desperately needed. “How did you get so good at giving hugs?” The boy asks finally letting his arms come up to accept the embrace.

“I had a loving family. Then, I found another one. And then another. Eventually, they gave me a lot of practice.” Dick continues to hold the young boy. “We’ll get you there someday too. This is a good start. You didn’t stab me.” Dick teases.

“I really contemplated it.” Damian admits.

“I know. That’s not great, but it’s pretty impressive given how we started off, so I’ll take it.” Dick smiles.

“Alright. You can let me go now.” Damian pushes gently against Dick’s chest as his energy starts to come back to him. “It’s starting to feel weird.”

“There’s that emotional distance.” Dick lets the boy go. “You get that from your father. Talia’s always been a delight.”

“Shut up.” Damian lightly punches Dick in the arm.

Dick messes up Damian’s hair. “Not a chance Gremlin.”

The pair walk back into the tents kicking dirt onto the flames to extinguish them and assessing the wounded. Gradually, the pain and fear give way again to smiles and laughter as the children learn to cope with what no one ever should and raise the spirits of all those around them. Several of them grab torn pieces of the tents to fashion them into capes around their necks before running around and saving their parents from imaginary soldiers. The laughter brings back the courage of the few who stayed back to hide from the dangers of the outside world and soon there’s an army of little heroes fighting imaginary villains.

Not long after, they feel a rush of air on the backs of their necks. Superman flies in with Lois in his arms. She documents the damage as soon as her husband’s feet touch the ground. His eyes glow bright red and his face is twisted with anger. “Are you two okay? How many injured?” He asks still seething.

“Two hundred eight injured. Forty five killed.” Damian reports.

Clark’s nostrils flare and as he tries to calm himself the surrounding area is affected by the gusts of wind from his deep breaths. “That’s it. We’re taking a trip down to the Prime Minister’s hole in the wall. Go get your costumes.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You said yourself, you can’t step in directly or it could cause an international incident.” Dick calls the bikes to change into the Zoureg Suit.

“No. He is not. He can barely hold back his powers. If we go with him to see the Prime Minister and we let him do the talking he won’t kill, but he will almost certainly cross a line. Maybe it will be a door ripped from its hinges or a hole burned in the desk, but this is not a mission for the Superman either way. They will use it to go after Metropolis, Gotham, The Daily Planet, something important to Superman or the League. They cannot help themselves. They’re too petty.” Damian pulls out his Falak Suit and begins to change into it. “This was likely to test the reaction of the League. We should be the ones to confront them. We can slip in and out easier and any marks we leave will be less distinct. If they say they were confronted by a couple of heroes nobody saw enter the government sector who were never caught on camera they will look incompetent and their supporters will pull back from them.” He slips on the cloves and sticks on the domino mask. “There is ONE thing that we could use though.”

Chapter Text

Jerusalem, Israeli Occupied

A man stands above the city. His eyes glow red and soldiers watch from the ground to see his reaction, but minutes pass by without any movement. His cape billows in the wind as he listens to the movement in the city. He cuts through the pounding hearts of the soldiers, the chatter of the civilians, and the sound of the wind cutting through the ancient streets. With his arms folded and his gaze fixed on the buildings below he looks like a stern father disappointed in his children. Then, just as quickly as he appeared, he vanishes with the sound of a sonic boom marking his departure.

Below in an alley shrouded in darkness the man’s eyes return to their typical bright blue and he meets with the young man he watched grow from a small Robin into a heroic serpentine hero for the Palestinians. “He’s hiding in the Southern wing of the Knesset building.”

“What are the defenses looking like?” Dick asks.

“They expect retaliation. Probably around sixty guards stationed in the streets surrounding the building with another forty inside and ten at his side. Key card access on all the doors and two thirds of all doors locked with physical locks separate from the key card system.” Superman explains.

“So, they expected retaliation from their own civilian population, not superheroes.” Damian thinks out loud. “If they thought Superman might actually act they would have splurged a little for more of a high tech system or at least better quality guards.”

Dick nods. “After this, I’m sure they’ll invest in something big to keep us out.”

Damian smirks. “Alright. Thanks for the radar, Kent. We will take things from here.”

“Are you ever going to stop with the last name thing?” Clark asks the small hero.

“Unlikely. Now, get Lois out of here. If I’m not mistaken you both have deadlines to meet and she’s still reliant on luck not to get blown apart if a missile comes her way.” Damian kicks off the buildings bouncing from wall to wall as he backflips onto the roof.

“Thanks for keeping us safe, Supes. I look forward to reading your report.” Dick smiles and holds out a hand to shake Superman’s.

“I’ll be back.” Clark shakes the young man’s hand.

“I know. We’ll try to have this mess cleaned up by the time you fly in again.” Dick clips on the front of his mask.

“What would we do if you did?” Clark asks with genuine interest.

“Help to rebuild. Maybe visit some of the historical sites?” Dick shrugs his shoulders.

“I think I’d like that.” Superman lifts off the ground. “Keep yourselves safe alright?”

Dick salutes the Man of Steel. “Of course. They can’t catch two pros like us.” He backflips onto a ledge and leaps to the roof of the building joining his brother.

Superman pauses for a moment to look at the boys one last time and says, “Goodbye.” before flying straight up and then taking off with another boom.

The pair run across the rooftops disappearing into the shadows and making their way to the Knesset. As they reach the clearing around the building they look below to see soldiers patrolling all around and watching the skies. They sculk around trying to find a break between the patrols, but the line of vision only breaks for a few moments before reestablishing once again. They can’t afford to take any guards down or leave any traces. It would lend credibility to the claims of the government if they did. “Any ideas, Grayson?” Damian asks, frustrated at the roadblock to their progress.

“One actually.” Dick leaps down into the street and grabs three pebbles and four rocks before grappling back to the roof between patrols. “We’ll need to choose our targets carefully though.”

The pair look over the edge, dodging the glances of soldiers passing by. “I count five between here and the roof. How about you?”

“Five looks right. Hard to tell who’s looking where when they keep looking around for Superman. We’ll need to draw more attention than just those five.” Damian remarks.

“Alright. Maybe if we make them trip or roll their ankles we can thin out the herd a little and then just distract whoever’s left.” Dick suggests.

“How are we supposed to do that with a couple pebbles? They won’t even go that far.” Damian asks.

“We won’t use the pebbles long distance then. Just the rocks. The pebbles can help us with whatever’s still here when we’re done.” Dick lines up a shot and holds his arm back for a few seconds while he waits for his moment to strike. THOOM The rock shoots through the air, landing under a soldier’s foot just as he sets it down. The sound of the impact is immediately muffled by the foot, followed by a scream as the man’s foot slides out from under him.

“Not bad, Grayson. Let’s see who’s next.” The young boy looks over the shifting bodies as several go to assist the soldier back to his feet.

Dick picks another target, flinging the rock into the air and striking a second soldier directly in the big toe. He lets out a howl and falls to the ground holding his foot as another five soldiers gather around him.

Damian throws a rock and strikes right under a soldier’s heel on the step forward with the soldier cursing loudly as he rolls his ankle and blames the nearest soldier thinking they were fucking around and kicked a rock out of the pit at some point.

The last rock lands in a bush near a guard, startling him and causing him to search for the source. “Okay, Kid. Ready?” Dick bundles the last three pebbles in his hand between his knuckles and prepares to run and jump off the rooftop.

“Ready if you are.” Damian answers getting into a good running position himself.

They both take off in unison and leap off the ledge as dick flings the pebbles striking the ground in front of a few guards drawing their attention to the faint snap sound at their feet before the small stones disappear, blending in with the sidewalks. Midway through a flip both boys launch their grappling hooks and begin to soar towards the rooftop.

They find a door with a simple lock accessible from the roof and Dick sets to work picking their way inside. Soon, they’re inside and they begin to scan the walls and ceilings for cameras to make sure they remain undetected.

Pressing against the walls, Damian scales his way up to the ceiling and waits for a guard running a security check to pass by before dropping down onto his shoulders and choking him unconscious and taking his radio to keep up to date on their intel. They slide the body up against the wall, sitting him up to make sure he can still breathe and making it appear as if he just sat down and took a nap.

Continuing through the hallways, they hug the corners and dodge guards masterfully. As they locate new cameras, they destroy each one with fangs thrown too quickly to be seen on camera. Soon, the guards start to notice the downed cameras and the boys use the distraction and the radio communication to cluster guards in an area and avoid them all.

Finally, they find a door with three guards posted outside. They were bigger than the others. Clearly tasked with defending a high value target. Each with a rifle strapped to their chest and watching the hallway closely. If they weren’t guarding the Prime Minister they’d likely at least know where he was. Dick holds up three fingers to signal to Damian. Then, balls up a fist, two fingers up, flat hand horizontal, single finger up then half down, and then a hand puppet miming speech.

Damian rolls his eyes and elbows Dick in the arm to get him to stop. “I’ll take the right and left. Just get the middle down and bound for interrogation.” Damian whispers, pulling out a disk and palming it in his glove.

“Roger Roger.” Dick smiles lunging out into the hallway and fully grabbing the attention of all three guards. He darts straight for the guard in the middle as all three raise their guns and scream, “DOWN ON THE GROUND!” in English. He ducks under the muzzle of the guns, slides to the feet of the middle guard and grabs a foot, yanking up as he stands and knocking the guard off balance while smacking the gun way from the guard’s hand so he can’t pull the trigger. The other two turn to face him, pointing their rifles and shouting again, “STOP WHERE YOU ARE!”

Damian throws the disk on the first guard’s back and electricity crackles all around the soldier as the man screams and arches his back. The second guard turns, looking at the first in fear, just in time to see Damian jumping off the wall and shoving the first soldier into him causing the electricity to surge through both of them as they wriggle on the ground, dropping their firearms.

Dick slams the remaining guard onto his back, knocking the wind out of him and rolls him over, hog-tieing him, taking the scope from his rifle, and stuffing it into his mouth to be held in by the black mask over his face. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The doors to the office swing open and a group of men in short sleeved button-ups pushes out into the hall ready to fight the intruders. Dick takes apart the downed soldier’s rifle and uses the pieces as projectiles, slamming them into each new body guard’s face and hands as Damian takes the other two rifles from the men he took down already and spins through the air like a top over Dick’s head. He slams and slaps with the rifles using them as melee weapons targeting knees, chins, kidneys, cheeks, and ankles. Soon, there is no one left standing and they see Benjamin Netanyahu, leaning against his desk with his hands folded in front of his face.

“Kind of weird how your guards aren’t speaking Hebrew isn’t it?” Dick asks in his best Hebrew.

“We have protection from all around the world. Nothing strange about it.” The Prime Minister stands from his seat. “It’s odd though, that you’re still standing and that you’ve made it here. We’ll need to bolster security.”

“I do not think that will help you. Not after what you’ve done.” Damian says. “You have targeted civilians. International law does not look kindly on that.”

“No. Hamas operatives. They escaped into the civilian population and needed to be eliminated.” The old man explains.

“You bombed a zone declared safe by your own nation with ordnance powerful enough to affect nearly three hundred civilians. That’s not striking a military target. That’s drawing a civilian population out of limited shelter with the promise of safety and then executing them for the crime of being Palestinian. The international community will see through that bullshit in a heartbeat and you’ll be forced to stop your assault.” Dick lectures the Prime Minister.

“Oh, my dear boy, you know so little about the international community or this conflict. What are you doing here?” The man smiles.

“Issuing a direct threat. If you ever target another civilian population after displacing them from their homes again we will stop you. You already have a warrant for your arrest from the international court. We could arrest you right now and take you to face justice. But, you are currently worth more in your position of power within your government, so you have a choice. You can end the attacks now and negotiate peace or you can be removed from your position and brought to the international court. We made it here undetected and without killing any of your guards. Do you imagine we will not be able to make it to you the next time we want to talk?” Damian asks.

“Well, I WOULD be surprised. Especially since you’ll both be dead in the next two minutes.” The man smiles and ducks behind his desk as a shot rings out outside the window and Dick shoves Damian out of the way. The bullet passes right between them and they roll to the wall on either side of the windows. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to prepare for in the morning and I must get my sleep. Try not to get too much of your filthy blood on my carpets.” The man walks out into the hallway leaving the two boys behind and soon he’s met by a group of soldiers who swarm around him and begin to guide him out of the building.

Chapter Text

Jerusalem, Israeli Occupied

As the Prime Minister makes his escape, the gunfire continues from a nearby rooftop.

“So much for undetected, Zoureg!” Damian shouts at Dick.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Shit happens on missions! Gotta roll with the punches, Kid.” Dick tries to get a visual on the shooter, but seconds later Tattooed Man walks through the open doors and blasts through the wall where Damian had been previously with a large skull construct. Dick throws five fangs into the wall and the young hero runs along them to get away from the blast, landing in front of the supervillain who immediately engages in unarmed combat with him.

Damian leaps up, throwing a knee into the Tattooed Man’s chin and grabs his arm to fling him out of the window, blocking the sniper’s visual. As the man screams and crashes through the glass, Dick leaps across the room to collect the fangs in the wall so they can hopefully still get away without any concrete proof of their involvement. The pair run after the Prime Minister, but they’re cut off once again by Colonel Rick Flag Jr. and Captain Boomerang.

“I’m afraid yah business with His Excellency is ovah.” Captain Boomerang throws a series of sharp boomerangs at the pair of snake themed heroes only for them to dodge each one. Dick grabs Damian by the ankle and throws him directly at the Captain prompting the Australian man to let out a brief high pitched yelp before muttering obscenities while trying to get the young boy away from himself. Flag fires off a shot at Dick with the young hero blocking it with his armor plated forearms before running forward and kicking into the Colonel’s chest with both feet, knocking both to the ground. Dick flips back up onto his feet and punches the Captain in the face laying him out cold before he grabs Damian and rushes past Flag on his way down the hall.

“What are you doing?! We had them!” Damian shouts.

“They’re just going to bring in reinforcements and more witnesses or cameras to prove we were here. We’ll be lucky if they don’t catch us on camera and destroy something themselves to claim this was some kind of terror attack.” Dick says calmly while running with his sibling over his shoulder.

“He’s not wrong, Kid.” A woman steps forward in front of them and ignites a ring of flames in her palm. “You boys should have stayed on your side of the border.” She throws the ring and makes another out of thin air catching the hallway on fire.

“Shit.” Dick growls angrily and grits his teeth. “Take her down as fast as you can.”

“That is LITERALLY always the plan!” Damian shouts at Dick and lunges through the rings of fire before going on the offensive and throwing rows of fangs at her making her retreat as they land all around her and she blocks one with her ring of flame. Dick kneels down and aims his grappling hook, firing it right under Damian and ricocheting it off the ground, hitting her in the eye. She falls to the ground with her flames all around her and Damian looks behind him to see Dick retracting the grappling hook. “Good aim.”

“Years of practice, now grab an arm and let’s get her stuffed in a closet somewhere for now so we can get out of here.” He walks through the flames, stamping out what he can and grabbing the fangs on the way. He grabs thermal by the arm, dragging her behind him.

“Why not leave her? She made the fire and then lost a fight. Seems only fitting she would be consumed by the flames.” Damian questions, keeping his eye out for further threats.

“If there’s a body in the fire this goes from vandalism to a bona fide terror attack. Besides, I think I know what’s going on here and if I’m right we really don’t want the flames making it to any of the bombs in their necks.” Dick explains before wrapping Thermal in a carpet and propping her up against a wall. “That should draw their attention though, so let’s use this opportunity to get out of here while we can.” Damian nods and they rush to the East side, opening a window and grappling the nearest building as the soldiers rush to put out the fire. They look back at the now smoking building before taking off across the rooftops and beginning their patrols for the night.

Hours later they call Bruce on coms. “As per request, we have updates on the mission.” Dick calls out.

Bruce answers immediately like he’s been waiting all night to hear from them. “Go.”

“We stopped four assaults in the Haifa region, fifteen thefts between Acre and Nazareth, and a sexual harassment in Netanya on the way back to the Northern border of the Gaza Strip. Our mission to the Knesset-”

“Did not go well.” Bruce interrupts. The sound of disapproval is obvious in his voice.

“We ran into an unplanned complication.”

“You’re just lucky nobody caught you on camera. How did you manage to end your visit with gunfire and a wing of the Knesset caught on fire?” Bruce rubs his forehead expecting the answer to give him a headache.

“They had help. My guess is, they got the American government to loan them a Suicide Squad.” Dick suggests.

“What makes you think they had the help of the squad?” Bruce questions.

“Flag Jr., Tattooed Man, Boomerang, and Thermal, with a gunman outside. Sounded like a standard issue rifle for IDF soldiers. But, given the reaction of the other soldiers on guard duty to the gunfire and the fire in the hallway I don’t think they knew they were working with a team of villains. That suggests to me that this is Black Ops. Waller’s territory. Probably a team of her most expendable and averagely competent.” Dick explains his thought process.

“Don’t those usually come with more than four or five members?” Damian interjects.

“Most of the time, but not always. They’re formed for whatever specific task their handler wants them to complete. If she wants them to stay under the radar it’s a lot easier to hide four weirdos in masks than it is to hide a group of seven or eight.” Dick says.

“I’ll see what we can dig up about this new team. For now, they’re unlikely to use them in a combat zone or anywhere cameras might catch them. They’re already starting to struggle from a PR perspective. Interacting openly with villains could be the last nail in their coffin and it’s likely to create a stir state-side since the world knows the Suicide Squad is a rumored American team of government controlled convicts.” Bruce thinks for a moment. “I want you to avoid a direct conflict for how. Once we know their capabilities, we may want to draw them out. It could swing public opinion.”

Damian wraps Dick’s wrists and looks up at him from under his eyebrows.

“Aaaaand I might have bruised the hell out of my arm stopping a bullet.” Dick admits making a face at Damian.

“Any fractures?” Bruce asks with his head in his hand.

“Thankfully no.”

Damian corrects him. “Not yet.” He says half joking and half threatening.

“If either of you boys injures the other I’ll parachute myself into Gaza tomorrow morning.” Alfred warns as he brings Bruce a cup of tea.

“Thank you, Alfie.” Dick says with a smile.

“Yes, P.” Damian reluctantly concedes.

“Very good, Young Masters. Now, when was the last time either of you had something to eat?” Alfred interrogates.

The silence on the line is deafening as the boys begin to run towards their Vipercycles, whisper yelling at each other about forgetting to take a meal break between missions.

“That sounds about right. Return to your shelter and eat an actual meal. No simple bars from your motorcycles. Those are simply not made for your level of activity.” Alfred chides the boys just as they reach the Vipercyles and reach for the bars.

“Yes, Sir.” They both reply in unison.

“Don’t forget your check-in.” Bruce rushes just before the boys cut off their transmission.

“No.” Alfred announces.

“No?” Bruce looks at Alfred quizzically.

“The worry never goes away.” Alfred stares at Bruce over the rim of his teacup.

“What?” Bruce raises an eyebrow at the butler.

“Those lines you’re developing on your forehead, Master Bruce. I know them well. You gave them to me. Every time a gun goes off, every time they’re on patrol for longer than eight hours, every time they find a new villain they haven’t fought before, every time they take up a new cause, and even every time they catch a virus, the worry will find you again.” Alfred explains himself. “Your children will undo you, just as you undid me.”

“They always have, Alfred. But, something tells me this is different.” Bruce’s stress manifests in his shoulders, neck, and voice.

“Indeed it is, Bruce. They’ve never been so far away without you, they’ve never faced off against a whole army, and you’ve always been ready in a suit of armor to go to them at a moment’s notice. This time, you have to trust them to have their own well-being cared for and you’re operating largely outside of your usual ninja costume.” Alfred lightly teases. “It’s different because for as large as you can make the wings of the Bat, this is a bit too far even for you.”

“Thank you, Alfred. How do you get through it?” Bruce runs his hand through his hair trying to de-stress.

“That’s always been a weak point for you, Sir. You have to learn to trust them on their own.” Alfred rests the teacup on his plate and begins to walk back up to the manor.

“Oh… You’re right... I’m not good at that.” Bruce folds his hands in front of his face.

Left alone in the Batcave, Bruce sends a message to Barbara to look into possible members of the new Suicide Squad and thinks about the next actions to take. There were so many fronts to tackle. Genocide in Palestine and Sudan. Ramped up persecution in Myanmar, China, Ethiopia, Yemen, and India. High risk of mass killings across Afghanistan, Guinea, Bangladesh, Tajikistan, Uganda, Indonesia, and Mali. Civil wars, toppled governments, seemingly random attacks, scattered around the world. Even if they increased the Justice League reserves, Batman Incorporated, and the Outsiders by a hundred members each, they’d still be fighting an uphill battle with a significant number of civilian casualties. There had to be a way to stop the violence without completely taking over the world and exerting authoritarian control over the general population, but he couldn’t see the path forward. And now, this new avian themed secret society was complicating the situation even further.

Maybe it just didn’t make sense from his own perspective. He’d done his best to understand the world around him. He spoke every language, knew every fighting style, investigated the highest levels of society all the way down to the bottom, but this far into his life as one of the most powerful men in the world it was impossible to deny that he might be missing a certain level of perspective. Who could he consult about something this big that wouldn’t somehow be involved in the problem?

Chapter Text

Gotham City, Streets

The city lights gleam through the smog as the two Bat-Siblings race each other through the streets in search of their feathered adversaries or Mrs. Kane. Soon, they find the latter watching a building closely through a pair of binoculars.

They fly past and set the autopilot on their vehicles to continue for a few miles so she won’t get suspicious as they grapple to a rooftop and begin to spy on the red haired vigilante. It doesn’t take long before she’s on the move. She leaps from the building, in through a window for the warehouse across the street and begins to aggressively beat a group of gangsters moving a gun shipment. Shouts, screams, and gunfire fill the night air as they watch her throw men twice her size over railings, into support beams, and through large wooden crates. Beating most of the men into unconsciousness and finding the last man crawling away with blood pouring from a cut in his cheek and eyebrow, she walks over and steps on his hand. “Who were you selling to?”

“Lady, you might dress like the Bat, but you ain’t anywhere near his level. I don’t gotta tell you a fucking thing!” The goon shouts.

“Shit. She’s gonna prove a point.” Red Hood whispers.

SNAP! His wrist breaks under her heel and the man screams out in pain trying to get her to move back off his hand. “I didn’t ask you for your opinions. Now, let’s take it from the top. WHO, were these guns going to?” She speaks calmly over the man’s screams, twisting her heel and leaning forward onto the broken bone.

“FUCK YOU!” The man screams out, still trying to get her to step back off his hand.

“Do you still want to be able to walk out of here when I’m done? Or do you need to find out first hand how it feels to have your femur snapped in half by some crazed vigilante who’s evaded law enforcement for years?” She steps back and folds her arms in front of her chest. “I’m getting my information one way or another. Even if you hold up under torture, I’ll bet the first guy I knocked out cold with just one hit is a little softer and a lot more chatty, so I’ll get him to tell me what I want to know and you’ll just end up with a hospital bill and more time out of the field than you can afford. So, last warning. Tell me what I want to know or I’ll make you so mangled the nurses cry when they see you.” She grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him in close.

The man thinks for a minute, but cracks as soon as she takes him by the throat. “Alright, fine. But, you didn’t hear it from me. Word is, we were gonna meet up with Black Mask’s guys by the docks. He wants to corner the market on sales to the other gangs and SuperFreaks. That’s all I know though.”

“There you go. Much easier this way, right?” She stands and then delivers a kick right to the man’s cheek knocking him out cold.

She grapples to the window she crashed through and begins to run across the roof tops to the docks to follow her leads periodically looking over her shoulder as the other two follow her from a couple buildings back.

As they near the docks she stops in place and turns around. “What are you doing out here Hood?” She calls out.

Jason steps out from behind a wall, showing himself. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Out of everyone in the Batfamily, you’ve got the heaviest boots. Now, what do you want? I’m a little busy on a case here.” She says as she approaches him slowly.

“We’re just watching you. Got a bit of a case ourselves and there’s a risk you’re involved.” Jason explains.

“Perp, victim, or witness? I don’t think there’s anything I’ve been involved in lately that you’d be terribly interested in, but if it’ll get you to lay off I’ll answer some questions. And who’s we?” She looks around at the shadows cautiously.

Blackbat emerges from the shadows silently.

Jason steps forward. “Maybe all of the above. We don’t have much to go off of. Just that there’s a couple new players on the field and they seem to know more than we’d like. Investigation is still underway, so I can’t tell you everything yet, but we expect to update in about fifteen hours.”

“Oh good. So, I get two of Batman’s tagalongs for my whole patrol?” Batwoman shakes her head.

“You can handle everything yourself if you want, but we can’t just let you walk into the crosshairs when you don’t even know who the shooter could be.” Jason explains.

Batwoman paces back and forth biting her lips in frustration. “Fine. But, I call the shots.” She turns around and returns on her path towards the docks.

Cass and Jason take off after her. “As long as everything goes according to plan, sure!” Jason calls out.

The trio scouts the docks for suspicious activity. Soon, they find a group of men standing in the shadows doing nothing in particular with two men positioned on the boat, poorly hidden and looking down the barrels of their rifles. “I think we found your buyers, Scarlet.”

“Red is fine.” Kate says.

“Can’t do that. Already got a Red in the family. Probably too many. Red Hood, Red Robin, Red. Can’t add you to the list. We’re all filled up. I’ll let you know the next time there’s a vacancy though.” Jason jokes.

“Alright, shut up. Just take down the snipers on the boat and secure the captain. I’ll take down the rest with Blackbat.” Batwoman looks back at the other two.

“On it.” Jason leaps off the roof and makes his way to the boat punching out two guards on the way.

“I was specific about just wanting him to take down the two snipers on the boat and keeping the captain from getting away wasn’t I?” The red haired woman asks Cass.

The black masked heroine stares silently back at her and then slowly nods.

“Good talk. Come on, then.” Batwoman leaps down and slows herself with her grappling hook as she comes in for a crash landing on the shoulders of one of the men guarding the front of the dock.

As soon as she announces herself the rest of the men draw their guns only to hear gunshots behind them as Red Hood takes out their snipers in rapid succession before beginning to rain down on the rest of the men drawing their fire. Blackbat rises behind one man as if she’s erupting from the shadows. She grabs him by the jaw and a forearm, flipping him over her own body and launching him ten feet into another man before rushing a third, grabbing his wrist and wrenching him backwards hard. Men drop to the ground by the dozens as batarangs and putty bullets. Fifty, thirty, ten, and then there was one. The vigilantes walk through the groaning and unconscious men as police sirens get closer and closer.

“It looks like the deal’s a bust. Mind passing a little message along to the boss for me or would you rather just give me his location so I can pass it along myself? I hear Black Mask is pretty quick to shoot the messenger.” The pale faced woman says as she leans over the captain sitting behind the wheel of his boat.

The man sighs heavily. “Screw it. I don’t need this shit. Mask can’t follow me if you break every bone in his body, so go ahead and meet up with him in his new base. I hear he’s holding up in the old Gotham Central Bank after the Two-Face fiasco. If you want you can question the driver to know for sure. He’s over there in the broken crate of claymores. As long as you didn’t kill him he should squeal. Now, would ya mind getting everybody except the two with the rifles off my boat so I can get outta here? Can’t be around if you fuck up and can’t be in the same prison as Black Mask if ya pull it off.”

Red Hood looks at Batwoman and shrugs. “Sounds reasonable to me.”

“Not up to you.” Batwoman scolds the former Robin.

Blackbat taps Batwoman on the shoulder and holds a finger up to her mouth to tell her to be quiet.

“Are you kiddi-” Batwoman starts to argue back until a finger presses against her crimson lips.

“Go.” Blackbat tells the captain as she gestures to Red Hood to remove the extra passengers.

Kate is fuming, but can’t get a word out as she tries and fails to swipe Cass’s hand away before the young woman takes her by the wrist and walks her to the ramp off the boat. Jason soon meets them on the dock carrying three goons before dropping them on the ground and signing to Cass. “Why?”

Cass doesn’t speak but flings a small disk into the water which sticks to the rudder before she pulls out a detonator from her belt. “Boom. Stop. Safe.” She explains miming her thoughts as she speaks.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Kate asks in annoyance.

“He said he can’t go to prison unless we kill Black Mask. He’s not wrong. Mask’s guys would kill him for being a rat. But, we can’t let him go either. The guy smuggles illegal military grade weapons for criminals, probably all over the world. So, if she lets him get away from GCPD, but blows his rudder once he’s a couple miles off the coast he’ll have to call in for a rescue. When they come to pull him back to port they’ll find out what he was doing, lock him up, and keep him from getting killed or transporting anything for anybody anytime soon.” Jason explains as Cass nods excitedly, putting a finger on her nose to let Jason know he’s spot on.

“And what happened to me calling the shots?” Kate asks, tapping her foot with her arms crossed staring at the two Bat-siblings.

“Oh, that was never happening. Batman can’t control either of us, I barely listen to myself, and she outclasses you by several leagues.” Jason laughs as he holsters his guns.

“Are you ever even marginally less obnoxious?” Batwoman chastises Red Hood.

“Barely. And only if I get a lolipop.” Jason says as he begins to walk toward the driver and away from Kate.

“Idiot.” Batwoman groans as she clenches her fists at her side and follows slowly behind the gun toting vigilante.

Cass’s shrug and nod only irritate the normally solitary Batwoman further.

Jason yanks the driver out of the crate and tosses him on the ground, kicking him roughly to get him to stir. “Come on jackass. Time to spill your guts. Where’s Mask hiding out?”

The man groans and puts his hand to his head still dizzy from having been kicked in the head by the Scarlet Crusader minutes earlier.

“You’re running out of time. Cops are gonna be here any second and if I don’t have the answers I want before that happens I’m gonna use my people hole puncher on you until your guts actually spill.” Jason threatens as he pulls his gun from the holster and presses it into the driver’s stomach.

“Woah! Wait!” The man’s eyes shoot open as adrenaline dumps into his veins. “I got it, ‘kay! I’ll talk! Dude’s got a place in Old Gotham near the Diamond District.”

“The old Gotham Central Bank?” Jason twists the barrel against the man’s stomach.

“Y-yeah. The bank! He’s got the whole area under his control!” The driver begins to sweat and his voice is shaking.

“Good. Now, take a nap.” Jason stands and shoots the man in the stomach with the bullet-putty causing him to buckle and wheeze as the police arrive and begin to clear the scene.

Chapter Text

Old Gotham Central Bank, Gotham City

The three bats perch atop a building looking down at the bank and watching as thugs move shipments into and out of the back without a care in the world for who sees.

“Something has him more confident than normal. What kinds of toys do you think he’s got in there?” Batwoman asks.

“Well, they said he wanted to be the dealer for all the gangs and psychos around Gotham and beyond, so it could be anything the killer clowns and scientists don’t make themselves. Maybe even custom jobs. Shipment tonight looked like high grade military equipment. So, RPGs, claymores, machine guns, snipers, grenades, body armors, as a baseline, but probably one or two super weapons like a freeze ray, magic staff, alien tech, flame throwers, jetpacks, bio-weapons, or chemicals,” Jason starts rambling off a list of all the weird things he’s been attacked with in the past.

“No way to narrow that down at all?” Kate rests her chin on her gloved hand and stares at Jason as he continues.

“Sure there is. We can drop in and get shot at.” Jason chuckles to himself.

Down below the sound of glass shattering, metal straining, and a door being thrown mingles with the sound of men screaming, scrambling to get out of the way, and gunshots ricocheting and striking men inside the bank. Cass grapples and swings into the bank to investigate.

“Looks like somebody beat us to it.” Kate steps off the edge of the building with Jason close behind her. They drop down to find Cass yanking gunmen out of harm’s way before punching them in the throat so they’ll stay down. Meanwhile, a six and a half foot tall woman with a long red ponytail swings around an enormous axe fast enough to block and deflect bullets while ripping apart counters and launching them at Black Mask’s goons.

“Stop right there!” A man shouts at the woman, shouldering a large futuristic looking gun.

Jason nails him in the forehead with a taser round and the man collapses to the ground. “I don’t believe we’ve met before! Seems like you’re on the warpath against Black Mask! What’s the story? He kill someone you love? Screw you over on a business deal? Just getting in your way as competition? I’d love to assume the giant waving around an axe is on my side because that sounds like it would hurt less, but around here you can never be too sure you know?” Jason aims both his guns at the woman in front of him.

“I am Artemis of Bana-Mighdall and if you do not lower your weapons, I will introduce you to the power of my own!” The woman shouts at him and pulls her axe back ready to attack.

“Good idea, idiot! Aim a gun at the potential ally who throws furniture and blades thicker than your fucking skull! That’ll work out great!” Batwoman chastises her teammate.

“Fair enough, but that doesn’t answer whether you’re a friend or foe, Xenna.” Jason continues firing and taking out new goons as they run into the room. “Personally, I don’t really feel like helping someone who can already fuck up a bank to get their hands on a better weapon before I end up needing to fight them, so what’s the plan, Lady?”

“Your ‘Black Mask’ is illegally selling an ancient artifact that belongs to MY people. He must return it and pay for his crimes.” Artemis explains. “You must not get in my way.”

“Totally. Just one thing, what’s this artifact used for? Does it bring the end of the world? Summon demons? Control people’s minds? Or does it just look really pretty? He’s selling weapons, not tapestries. I can’t let you take something that you’ll end up using to kill or subjugate people.” Jason questions.

“You won’t be LETTING me do anything. It’s the rightful property of my people and I will have it.” Artemis steps forward before Blackbat steps in front of her with one hand out.

“What is?” Cass asks.

“Fine. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m in a rush. It’s a bow. The Bow of Ra. If you see an intricately carved wooden bow with no arrows, do not touch it or it will destroy you. Simply alert me and we can all continue on our journeys.” Athena rests the axe staring down at the young black cloaked hero in front of her.

“Agreed.” Batwoman says as she walks to meet the woman in the back of the room.

“If it will destroy anyone except you to touch it, how did Black Mask get his slimy little gloves on it?” Jason asks as he moves to check the hallway most of the henchmen had come from.

“You ask too many questions. How is this prudent at this time?” Artemis shakes the axe in Jason’s direction becoming increasingly frustrated.

“Sorry I have questions about a simple wooden stick so powerful it can destroy someone just by touch. Do you want that in the hands of someone who could easily try to kill you as soon as they get it back?” Jason asks sarcastically while dramatically shaking his head and hands around.

“Good.” Cass points at Artemis while looking back at Jason. “Hurt. But, hero.”

Jason holsters his guns and softens his tone. “Alright. If she vouches for you, you can’t be that bad. Let’s get your magic stick back.”

“You’re such a dick.” Batwoman glares at Redhood.

“No. That’s the other one.” Jason jokes. “Now, how do we want to handle smoking out Black Mask so we can wrap up here?”

Artemis smiles and steps closer to Jason. “I think you should check the second floor.”

“Okay. Divide and conquer. I’ll check out the second floor, you check the basement, Blackbat can round up the suppliers out back, and Batwoman can- AAAAAAGGGHH!!!!!” Artemis grabs Jason by the arms and throws him through the ceiling leaving him to crash land on a desk on the second floor.

Batwoman laughs and wipes away a tear holding her stomach from the sight. “HAHAHAHAHA! Well, I can’t say he didn’t have that one coming!” She catches her breath and pats the Amazon on the arm. “You know what? I like you. We should hang out sometime.”

Cass grapples the ceiling through the hole and meets Jason on the next level. “Ugh, I kind of like her.” He groans as he rolls off the desk and gets ready to search the building. “Shouldn’t one of us stay with Batwoman? They could attack while we’re away. Artemis could be one of them.”

Blackbat shakes her head no. “Artemis, Amazon. Killer, but not assassin.”

“There’s been at least a couple bad Amazons. Besides, how do you know she’s one of them and not just someone’s lab experiment?” Jason stretches and pops his back.

“Moves like warrior. Tells truth. Good.” Cass folds her arms with clear resolve.

“Well, if you’re sure. We still need to make sure we clear this place as fast as possible.” Redhood checks his equipment and begins to make his way to the back of the building.

Blackbat follows, blending into the shadows and quietly taking down guards in hiding.

As they all near the basement they find more and more guards waiting. Booby traps to keep them back. Increased security systems. Black Mask went all out. Then, they hear his voice over the speaker system. “You’re annoying me. Now, how do I get you little bats out of my base? Do you need a specific toy? Information? Or do I really need to pull out the big guns?”

“Depends on what you’ve got!” Jason answers.

“No, it doesn’t!” Kate shouts.

“Return the Bow of Ra to me and you’ll be rid of most of your troubles.” Artemis calls out.

The speakers crackle idly for a moment. “What the hell is a Bow of Ra?” Black Mask questions the Amazon. “I’m not exactly dealing in antiques here. Have you checked the Gotham Museum?”

“You’re mocking a power greater than you can understand, little man.” Artemis answers.

“You’re not answering my questions and I’m a busy man. So, how about you little hens find your way back out of the wolf’s den before I snap you in half?” Black Mask’s voice grows dark with vitriol.

“And miss out on ruining your shipments? Not a chance.” Batwoman rushes forward and kicks down a door with her ‘thorns’ ready to fly.

Glowing frosted tubes line every wall of the large room they find themselves in. Wires run between them in a tangled mess and a doctor stands near an emergency exit with his hand on the crash bar. “You can’t be here! You’ll ruin everything! If you stop my experiments they’ll be incomplete!” The man screams at the team of heroes.

Batwoman throws her thorns as Artemis charges at the man, whipping the small projectiles past her new ally and nailing the doctor to the door by the sleeve of his coat. The giant woman captures the doctor by the throat and casually lifts him with a fist drawn back. “Your experiments are no concern of mine. Where is the Bow of Ra?”

“Miss, I don’t know what that is, but if you’re looking for non-organics, he keeps those in the warehouse at the end of the street so he can show off for buyers. You might find what you’re looking for there, but please don’t damage anything in this room. The machines MUST stay on!” The man quickly rambles as he tries and fails to squirm out of her grip.

Artemis drops the man, leaving him to try to yank free of the thorns keeping him nailed in place. As she walks away and out of the room, Kate approaches. “What is Black Mask having you work on here?”

“Genetic templates. Highly experimental and dangerous genetic templates. Designed to be the perfect weapons. If they lose power many of them will likely die, but they’ll destroy the eastern United States before they do and anything that survives will doom the rest of the planet. I need to monitor them closely and destroy them if they’re not ready.” The doctor explains as he begins to calm down trying to get the heroes to understand the severity of the situation.

“How do you destroy them?” Jason asks as he wipes his hand across the glass of one of the tubes removing a layer of frost.

Inside the tube an enormous figure stands with a series of tubes and glowing blue gemstones adorning his body and encasing his red, blue, and yellow costume.

Jason’s eyes narrow with disgust and rage. “You stupid son of a bitch. What have you done?” Jason draws a pistol and aims it for the doctor’s forehead.

Batwoman and the doctor’s voices overlap as Blackbat begins to inspect the tubes and their accompanying clipboards. “HOOD! NO!” “Wait! I told you they’re delicate! If you hit something in this room you’re dooming the world. Put down the gun!”

“Explain FASTER! How is someone smart enough to manipulate Kryptonian DNA STUPID enough to do it?!” Jason lashes out as he keeps the gun trained on the man’s head and moves to the next tube repeating the process and finding a young man with black hair and a Robin costume.

“I know. I know it was selfish. It started with one, just to see if I could do it, but then they asked me to make more and each one was a new challenge. I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Besides, how do you turn down Black Mask and the United S-” BOOM! SQUISH. The doctor’s head explodes covering Kate in his brain matter as his body slumps and hangs by the sleeve of his coat from the door.

“FUCK! GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!” Batwoman steps back frantically wiping the man’s blood off her face and suit. “I’m never patrolling with you again Hood! You’re bad luck!”

The loud speakers hum and Mask’s voice resonates through the room. “Sorry, kids. Can’t have you getting in the way of my deals and you just cost me a very profitable employee, so you’re going to have to comp the cost by making sure my little monsters here don’t go destroying too much of the block. At least once you’re dead they should be worn out and confused enough for retrieval. Maybe mind your own business next time, huh?” The speakers cut out and the tubes power down with a hiss.

“Hood to Batman, how many Leaguers do we have within a fifty mile radius and which ones?"

Chapter Text

Gotham City Streets

“Ten. Creeper, Green Lantern, Huntress, Ragman, and Bat members Red Robin, Spoiler, Catwoman, Blackbat, Oracle, and myself if we include all reserve members. Why? What did you do?” Bruce asks as he begins to suit up.

“Woah. This isn’t my fault. I was keeping an eye on Batwoman and running patrol with Blackbat. We met a giant lady with an axe, confronted Black Mask and his gang, busted up an illegal cloning facility before shit could get bad, and then the doctor’s head blew up and the tubes started to thaw out.” Jason rants in his defense.

“So, you went in guns blazing, didn’t find out what you were walking into until you kicked the door down, and now you don’t have the resources to keep Old Gotham from turning into a crater.” Bruce lectures Jason.

“No! That was Batwoman!” Jason says, now fully offended.

“BOYS! Shut up and explain what we’re up against. We don’t have time for this shit.” Batwoman exclaims as she wipes off the glass on several more tubes reading through their attached clipboards for any clues that might help to take them down.

“Fine. We’ve got a giant Superman, a Robin, a pale and evil looking Wonder Woman, a Jarro…” “M’GANN!” Cass shouts as she looks inside a tube, finding a large white alien with an IV connecting her to a much smaller white humanoid with black marks on her face and a chain resting on the floor of the tube. The IV splits and leads to a smaller capsule between the unconscious pair. Cass smashes the glass tube and yanks her friend’s teammate out, disconnecting her from the IV and allowing both alien girls to thaw out faster.

“Problem, B. They got their hands on at least one hero. Miss Martian is here. Unconscious, but breathing. They took her blood and appear to have been mixing it with some kind of Lobo clone. They’ve also got something they’re calling Velocity and they’ve cloned or revived Ocean Master. I’m gonna need something a little bigger than a human… Is Power Girl in this hemisphere?” Jason reads through the file on the broken tube and discovers the girl’s name is Crush and that she’s Lobo’s biological daughter, living a normal human life on earth.

“The team has been assembled. Keep your eyes out for any more surprises.” Batman says in a calm voice as he sits in the Batwing and rockets towards the bank.

Redhood exhales loudly in frustration. “You know what? No. I’m not dying again because I relied on B. I’m calling reinforcements.” He storms out of the room pulling out his phone and pulling off the helmet.

Soon, the young teen alien begins to stir and groans. “Why’s it so freaking cold?”

“Well, that doesn’t sound much like a clone to me. Go ahead and stay put while I get the door open for you.” Kate steps over the broken glass and figures out a latch system on the side, opening the capsule and offering the young girl a hand out. Crush blushes and takes Batwoman’s hand, stepping down as her chain slowly coils around her other arm.

“This doesn’t look good.” Crush mumbles as she stares at the unconscious horror movie character in front of her and the two Batman adjacent superheroes. “How’d I get here?”

Batwoman answers, “We were hoping you could tell us. Seems like someone wanted to use your powers for some kind of crime.”

Jason walks back into the room, slipping his helmet back on over his domino mask. “Good. The kid’s awake. We need to get you the hell out of here.”

“Not until we know why she’s here in the first place. We could send her down the road only for her to get grabbed again or she could be part of this whole mess and make it way worse.” Batwoman argues.

Jason shakes his head. “She’s an alien. There’s your why. Powerful parentage and potential. As for how, she’s still a kid, so they were able to get the drop on her. We’ll break the rest of the organization tonight, slip a tracker on her to make sure she doesn’t end up disappearing on anybody again, and get her back home to her family, but for now we need to get her the hell away from the evil Justice League they’ve made down here so she doesn’t get impaled or incinerated. Okay? Okay. Glad we see eye to eye on this.” He reaches towards Crush and Batwoman steps between them.

“She’s literally the only clue we have about what happened here. We need to hold off. Besides, according to this paper, she’s probably got her dad’s durability and strength. She’s not going to die.” Batwoman tries to reason with Jason.

Jason takes a step back and fires a gun, narrowly missing Batwoman’s thigh with a less than lethal rubber round as the woman slides to the side and draws a handful of thorns from her belt and a pointed metal chain link flies from Crush’s arm towards Jason’s chest only to be stopped midair by an invisible force.

M’Gann awakens and shifts back to her green humanoid form in Blackbat’s arms. Her eyes glow red and she holds out a hand. “We don’t have long enough to get either of us out before the others wake up. Brace for a fight and let Jarro out of his container.” She huffs and uses her power to open a test tube and pull a jar with a starro inside out, handing it to Jason.

“You, Okay?” Blackbat asks M’Gann.

“-Ish. Still feel like crap, but I’m mostly physically fine.” M’Gann responds.

“How did they capture you?” Batwoman asks the young martian.

“They had a team and caught me off guard. One of them controlled fire.” The martian pulls herself up to her feet.

“The same way you’ll all be captured.” An old man’s voice flows into the room from the dark outside the door and each hero flies into the opposite wall with their limbs pinned firmly in place. The man’s face is bloodless and pale blue with an outfit pulled straight from an old monster movie.

“I don’t- think we ordered… Super Satan. You must have the wrong… basement.” Jason’s voice strains under the magical pressure forcing him against the wall before he presses the detonator in his fist.

The man’s green cape wraps around him, covering his bright red body suit as the explosion behind him knocks him several feet forward. With his focus lost, the heroes drop to the ground and Crush rushes at the man to kick him while he’s still down, but he gets his bearings and captures them in his magic once again, sending Crush flying backwards into the concrete wall and cracking it with the force of his magic. “That’s quite enough out of you.” The man glares at Jason, summoning a ball of fire in his hand. Before he can throw it, his shadow attacks him. Blackbat emerges with a full force uppercut from his shadow on the ground before bringing her elbow down on his nose as she descends back into the shadow on the floor. The man falls to his hands and knees with blood pouring from his nose and mouth from the assault. Stunned for a moment and trying to collect himself, he’s caught off guard when Crush grabs his cape in her hands and throws him through the building into the street.

Crush and Batwoman rush out after him through the new hole in the building as M’Gann floats up through the building to scope things out from the roof.

Jason rushes to open the Jarro container, speaking slowly to the alien starfish. “I don’t know why I’m trusting you because realistically you’ll probably make this situation way worse, but I hope Miss Martian was right about you. Come on, buddy. Prove my gut right.” He reaches a hand into the jar and takes the little alien out before walking up to the rest of the tubes. “What do you think? Evil Robin, Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, Aquaman, or the Devil?” The star looks around the room slowly before gesturing emphatically at the frozen Robin. Redhood stares at the little alien. “Well, I guess I can’t ask you to try to control the more powerful ones and dealing with another robin trying to fight me would just be annoying. Let’s get you on there.” Jason opens the tube and holds out the star in front of Robin, but before either of them can react, the Robin’s eyes snap open and he smacks Jason’s hand away, knocking Jarro to the ground before jumping up and kicking off the back of the tube, grabbing Jason by the throat and tackling him to the ground in a single fluid motion.

Back outside, the sorcerer throws bolts of lightning, fireballs, and enormous energy constructs, but the girls keep him from capturing any of them. Crush gets caught by the dark wizard’s telekinetic powers only for Blackbat to emerge from the shadows and punch the man’s knees ferociously. He reaches into her shadow dimension to capture her, only for his mind to be assaulted by the martian. As he forces her out of his mind and deals with the splitting headache from having his brain forcibly ripped apart by someone else’s thoughts, he’s wrapped in Batwoman’s Python Coil.

“Stand down. You’re clearly outmatched and outnumbered.” Kate calls out as the coil cuts into the man’s arms.

KRAKOOM!!! The bank erupts with bricks and dust flying in all directions and an enormous figure wraps their arms around Miss Martian. “Me am kill him.” The Bizarro flies straight at the ground trying to smash Miss Martian, but she phases through him and lets him crash into the ground.

Crush rushes to help her new martian friend, but halfway there she feels her nose break and the air all around her head disappears with a series of super sonic punches. The chain around her arm begins to fly around after something, but she can’t quite see it. Reaching up, she grabs her nose and sets the bone before she feels it healing.

The manhole covers in the street begin to rattle and water flows upwards before flying in an unnatural beam towards Batwoman and knocking her from her feet, forcing her to let go of the Python Coil. Her body is enveloped in the sewer water as she watches Ocean Master emerge from the front of the building, staring at her with a raised fist. A tall, pale, evil woman strides out behind him, staring out with a wicked smile on her face at the brawl in the street.

A missile strikes the woman, rocketing her through the building and knocking Ocean Master down the stairs of the bank releasing Batwoman from the water prison as Batman drops down onto the supervillain’s chest, landing with a CRUNCH.

“Isn’t that lethal?” Kate asks her cousin.

“Ocean Master can withstand the pressure of the Marianas Trench and the heat of an underwater volcano. Assuming his clone is half as powerful as he was, that felt like a kidney shot, but nothing more.” Batman explains as he kneels down and places his hand over the villain’s mouth. He walks away from the oceanic tyrant and begins to assess the situation checking the trackers for the other members of their crack team. KABOOM!

The object Batman pushed into Ocean Master’s mouth explodes loudly. Ocean master lets out a scream that’s much more of a gurgle as he scrapes his tongue and gums with his fingers. A white gas pours forward from his mouth as a green bubbling liquid falls to the ground leaving the would-be king of Atlantis coughing and wheezing until he collapses in the chemical solution. Batman continues on his path towards the hole the Amazon clone had been blasted through with his cousin in pursuit behind him.

“Oh come ON! There’s no way you’re going to tell me that’s not lethal. That should be in the Geneva Conventions!” Kate calls out Bruce’s hypocrisy.

“Not lethal to an Atlantean. It IS in the Geneva Conventions though. They prohibit the use of Chemical Weapons.” SMASH!

Down the road Artemis is flung through a wall, landing in the street and sliding to a stop. A woman in a black leotard leaps out into the street after her and fire erupts from her palms only to be blocked by Artemis’s broad axe, heating the metal to red hot before she phases through the thick blade and touches Artemis on the forehead making the Amazon scream out in agony.

“Which one is ours?” Batman asks Batwoman.

“The Amazon.”

Bruce flings a Batarang at the feet of the woman in black and it screeches out a high pitched hum bringing both women to their knees with their heads in their hands before the sound abruptly stops and the Amazon punches the telepath hard in the stomach. The woman falls to the ground with the wind knocked out of her, struggling to breathe.