The Way Back #7

[arcalian]

Issue #7: Chasing Demons
Story by Ellen Fleischer
Cover by Cameron Boyle
Edited by Jay McIntyre

[/i][/center]

There's things that I can't leave alone
'Cause they won't leave me alone
What I want ain't what I need
Still I reach for the things I crave
Then try to run away
Am I afraid of being free
'Cause when I'm not chasing demons
There's demons chasing me
--Bill Anderson and Jon Randall, "Demons"

[arcalian]

Once the car stopped, Dodge waited for Vera to get out and lock the door behind her before he cautiously lifted his head. He was in a parking lot, outside a nondescript three-story box of a building. A loud roar made him duck once more, and he caught a glimpse of an airplane flying so low it seemed to be only a few feet overhead. He counted to ten slowly, and then teleported out of the car.

There were two other cars in the lot, as well as a large van. The building itself appeared to be dark and deserted.

Despite himself, he tensed and flattened himself against the side of the car as he heard another roar. This time, the plane was coming from the other direction and gaining altitude rapidly. He had to be on the mainland, and practically right next door to the airport. He smiled. At least, if he could get to a phone, he could tell the Bats where he was. The smile faded. He could, if they'd given him a number! Or a bat-signal. Or something. Well, he could still call the cops... He shook his head with a glower. If he did that, it was as good as saying that they were right and he wasn't cut out to join their little club. No, the only way he'd ever prove himself to them would be if he saved his family on his own. Then they'd beg him to join them, and he'd laugh right in their faces. Well... maybe if they begged and if they were really sorry for doubting him, and they apologized. Yeah, maybe then he'd join them-but they'd have to ask him nicely, first. He smiled. Very nicely.

Still caught up in his daydream, Dodge strode across the parking lot and tugged open the heavy front door. It creaked a little bit, but not too much. He pulled it carefully shut behind him. Ahead stretched a long corridor. The lights overhead were dim, but the floodlights from outside filtered in through a barred window at the opposite wall. At intervals, emergency lights sent their reflections down to the gray-tiled floor. The hall smelled like his school did when the janitor had just finished mopping-of strong chemical disinfectant with an almost-cloying scent of lemon mixed in. His running shoes squeaked slightly as he started walking. He winced and rose to his tiptoes. He didn't think anyone could hear him...

A hand clapped itself over the kerchief covering his mouth as an arm pulled his wrists roughly behind his back. He struggled, fighting to reach his belt buckle, even though he had no idea whether he'd be able to teleport out of his attacker's grip. Suddenly, a young woman's voice whispered incredulously, "Michael?"

Dodge struggled harder.

"Michael!" Vera's voice remained low, and somewhat muffled, but there was an authoritative edge to it that he'd never heard before. "Michael, a few doors down from here is a laboratory and it is not soundproof. If you yell, you're going to have a dozen people running out. Now, I'm going to take my hand off of your mouth, but I'm warning you, keep your voice down. Do you understand?"

Dodge fought once more, but he couldn't break free. Grudgingly, he nodded.

"Good," Vera sounded relieved. She spun him around to face her. "What are you doing here?"

Dodge realized that she was wearing a knitted mask that covered her hair and the lower portion of her face. He glowered but didn't answer.

"Michael? How did you know to come-"

"I followed you!" He nearly spat the words. "You... my dad trusted you and you..." He nearly hissed the next word. "Traitor!"

Vera winced. "What gave me away?" she asked.

Dodge blinked. Vera didn't sound the least bit smug or defensive. If anything, her tone was friendly, even curious. An instant later, his anger reasserted itself. "I saw you at Dad's office tonight. And..." He stopped. No point mentioning the hairpin. "Nothing."

Vera sighed. "I know what that must have looked like, but I was hoping to find your father's notes."

"What?" Dodge couldn't see how that was supposed to make things better.

Vera sighed once more. "Look, I wish I could explain, but I can't right now. I need you to come with me. You can either trust me and come willingly, or not trust me and I'll... raise my voice, but one way or another, you're coming. I promise you, I won't hurt you."

Dodge shot her a furious look. Then he allowed his shoulders to slump in defeat, and he forced himself to nod. Robin was still analyzing the evidence taken from the Lasky home. Maybe he'd even finished by now. There had to be some clue that would lead the Bats here. All Dodge had to do was hold out until they showed up. Feigning resignation, he allowed Vera to escort him, hoping all the while that she wouldn't look too closely at his belt.

[arcalian]

"Arthur?" Colleen Lasky asked, as one of their masked captors fastened the belt around her waist.

Arthur Lasky placed his hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry, Colleen," he whispered. Shaking, he forced himself to lower his hand and look directly into the eyes of the man who seemed to be in charge. "It won't work," he confessed. "I... I sabotaged the controls."

The leader considered that for a moment. "Did you?" he asked.

Arthur nodded.

"How... foolhardy." He paused, thinking. "This is an interesting development," he said finally. "You see, up until now, you've been trying to create a working prototype without success. Now, if I'm to believe you, you deliberately set out to create one that works poorly." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "You know, Doctor Lasky, it's just barely possible that your sabotage has inadvertently brought about the goal you've been trying to achieve all along." His voice hardened. "Either that, or your attempt to subvert your research deserves severe consequences." He twisted his hands in mock-despair. "What to do, what to do?" All at once, he snapped his fingers. "I have it! We'll proceed with the test. If the belt works, well, that's cause for celebration-or at least for allowing your pitiful act of rebellion to slide. After all, it's the results that count. On the other hand," his voice took on an edge, "if your sabotage was successful," he was smiling again beneath the mask, "I can't think of a more fitting penalty for you than watching us proceed with the experiment." He gestured toward the two guards holding Colleen. "Tie her hands," he ordered briskly. "And set the controls for a short trip... say... three yards to the right."

"Stop!" Arthur said desperately. "It was my idea. Let me be your test subject."

The leader shook his head. "Tempting, but no. If this fails, we're still going to need someone to create a properly working model. You're the scientist, not your wife." He sighed. "I suppose it's a good thing we do have your son as a spare guinea pig." He waited until the first guard was finished binding Colleen and had stepped away before nodding toward the second one. "Activate the belt."

As the second guard bent down to do so, several things occurred in short order. Vera entered the room, took in the situation, and shoved Dodge to one side. At the same moment, Arthur Lasky, with a desperate cry, lunged toward Colleen's guard.

"Stay back!" The leader shouted, pulling a pistol out of his belt holster.

Simultaneously, one of the door sentries sprang forward. "Freeze!" He shouted as he sprinted several yards toward them.

"CBI!" Vera chimed in, a badge in her left hand and a drawn gun in her right. She drove her left elbow into the solar plexus of the second door sentry, even as she stomped down on his instep.

Colleen's guard crumpled, but as he did, he managed to press one of the buttons on the belt control panel. The belt began to hum. Dodge stared, horrified, as his mother started to vanish.

Unlike his own teleportation, which happened in the virtual blink of an eye, Colleen Lasky began to grow slowly but steadily more ethereal. Her mouth opened in a soundless shriek.

"MOM!" Dodge yelled, hitting his own belt controls. And then... did he teleport to her position, or did the belt simply pull him there, like iron to a magnet? He felt an odd sensation, as though he was falling through Jell-O, and he thought he heard a loud bang as his fingers closed on her sleeve.

And then, Colleen Lasky and her son disappeared.

[arcalian]

This jump was different. Usually when Dodge used the belt, he felt a momentary, and not altogether unpleasant, shock. It reminded him of the summers he'd spent at camp, and when he'd go diving into the lake in the early mornings-that quick icy discomfort which passed almost as soon as he registered it.

Similarly, the sensations he generally felt in mid-teleport were mildly disconcerting and mercifully fleeting. He never thought about where he was when he transitioned, because it all happened so quickly-or at least it was supposed to.

Now, though, something was wrong. He sensed-in a way that transcended his senses-that his mother was with him, although he could not see or hear her. He couldn't see or hear anything. It wasn't blindness-even a blind person could see darkness, he supposed. At least, if he screwed his eyes shut, he could still see "dark". This was worse. It was like trying to see with a shoulder-or hear with a knee. "Mom?" He thought he whispered, but he couldn't even hear his own voice.

And then, there was an abrupt change in the atmosphere, and they were no longer alone. Something else was here with them... something hungry.

Dodge screamed without screaming. All at once, it didn't matter that he couldn't discern where his mother was, all he knew was that he had somehow placed himself in front of her, directly in the path of whatever was here with them. He wanted to shout to her to run, but she wouldn't hear him. And anyway, how could you run if you couldn't see where you were going? Never mind. They were going to die here, and nobody would ever know. Never mind. He imagined that he squared his shoulders and his scream became a yell of defiance. "Come and get us!" he raged. "I hope you choke!"

And suddenly, there was a new presence with them: bright, glorious, and yet seeming to carry a weight he could just barely begin to fathom. And he sensed the predator draw back, as though taking the newcomer's measure.

Dodge fought down his frustration. He could almost see what was going on, he could nearly understand what to do. Instead of emptiness and silence, it was as though he was now at the other extreme-too many sights and sounds-colors he couldn't give names to, noise beyond cacophony. It was a different kind of blindness and a different kind of deafness, but the result was the same: he couldn't make much sense of his surroundings. But he could tell that a battle was raging between the Hungry one and the Bright one. Those names, he guessed, were as good as any.

For a time, he waited, and tried to focus on his surroundings as his senses began to clear. This was not his fight-even he could see that, and the Bright one was doing well. And then, the Bright one faltered and the Hungry one lunged. And Dodge didn't care whose fight it was anymore, he had to do something!

He charged headlong into the fray, fists raised-and found himself lying flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him. There was a paw with nails like knives descending toward his chest, and he tried to twist, but he was slow... so... slow...

He felt a sharp, stabbing pain and opened his mouth to scream. A bright bolt of energy slammed into the creature, forcing it back, and Dodge felt something grab hold of him with fingers like hot steel and yank him through a wall. There was another icy shock. Then, his eyes and ears started to tingle-as though they had been asleep. He frowned. That didn't sound exactly right, but he couldn't think of a better way to describe it. He was back in the room he'd just left, and it seemed as though only moments had passed in his absence. Except that almost all of the masked men were sitting on the floor with their hands behind their backs. One man stood over them, with Vera at his side.

Another person, cloaked and hooded, was bending over his father's prone figure. "Oracle," a woman's weary voice emanated from the cloak, "we need an ambulance. There is a man in critical condition, and I have only strength enough to ease his pain."

Dodge heard as if through a barrier. Something was wrong. It wasn't just the puddle of blood pooling beneath his father, though that was horrific enough. Somehow, Dodge felt as though he hadn't fully returned. As though a part of him still remained in that 'other space'.

He looked over his shoulder. His mother stood behind him, blinking in confusion. All at once, she screamed, "ARTHUR!"

As Colleen Lasky ran to her husband, Dodge reached out to her, but drew back in horror as his hand passed right through her arm. What was happening? And where... where was the belt that he'd seen her wearing. Almost automatically, he looked at his own waist. He still had his, but a second one was tangled up with it. He tried to work it free to no avail. It occurred to him that it might be easier to manage if he took off his own belt, first. When he tried to do so, however, he was horrified to discover that the buckle was smashed. Try as he might, he couldn't unjam it. The belt wouldn't come off.

He was stuck.

And then, the room seemed to be filled with paramedics and police and his father was on a stretcher and the woman in the cloak had moved away from Dad to stand next to him. She was saying something that sounded reassuring, only Dodge wasn't quite processing it.

Dodge blinked when the woman motioned to him with her hands, guiding him toward the fire door and out to one of the waiting ambulances. He shook his head, trying desperately to explain that he couldn't solidify, couldn't climb the steps into the vehicle without sinking through them.

I can compensate for that, her voice rang through his mind. Be at ease, Michael. In time, you will learn to do this yourself.

She knew his name. He barely had time to register that fact when he realized that there was a glowing field surrounding him, enveloping him from head to toe, like a second skin.

Walk, Michael. I can maintain the Armor of Ila for a considerable time without strain. Come.

Dodge obeyed. The 'armor' maintained a buffer between his feet and the floor tiles, keeping him from sinking. He brushed the doorframe as he left the building and felt its solidity even through the energy field. As the cloaked woman urged him along, he saw another ambulance pulling away, sirens blaring, and guessed his father was in that one. Dodge began to shake. Was Dad going to be okay? And, he wondered, what the heck had the belt done to him?

Please, the refrain in his mind started up again. Please, please, please...

[arcalian]

Bruce's eyebrows shot up as Dick pulled into the parking spot. "You made the reservations here?"

Dick nodded. "Babs and I have come in a few times. The food's great." He got out and went around to the passenger door. Bruce already had one foot on the sidewalk.

"And, of course, we're less likely to be recognized." Bruce said with a frown.

Dick shrugged. "You want the paparazzi snapping photos? Next time we'll go to that revolving glass restaurant on top of the Marriott."

"No, I..." Bruce stopped. He didn't want the media reporting on his every action. Despite what he'd said to Alex, he hadn't been looking forward to being out in public. But he'd prepared himself mentally for this evening out. He'd planned for it with the same meticulous attention to detail he'd once devoted to his protocols. For Dick to single-handedly remove the need for those preparations... He took a deep breath. "I'm not asking for you to make things easy for me."

Dick turned around then and gave him a hard stare. "Not everything's about you, you know?" he snapped. "Maybe I'd like to be able to have a bite out once in a while without reading about it in the society pages the next morning. You coming? I'm hungry." An instant later, his glare faded, replaced by contrition. "Sheesh, Bruce, I'm sorry. It's been a long day. Look, you want me to see if I can change the reserv-"

Bruce shook his head. "No," he said, placing a hand on Dick's shoulder. He was shocked to feel tension under the suit jacket. "No, this is fine. I was..." He stopped. The last two years had certainly taken a toll on him, but what, he wondered for the first time, had they done to Dick? "This is fine," he repeated, meaning it. "Let's go in."

[arcalian]

Raven waited until she knew Dodge was being looked after before she quietly exited the metahuman ICU. She still didn't feel strong enough to chance teleportation, so rather than report face-to-face, she needed to find a quiet spot to contact Oracle and fill her in on the evening's events. She paused to study a floor directory, and then, after a moment's deliberation, headed toward the chapel. Part of her wanted to wait until the doctors had completed their examinations, but she suspected that such would be mere procrastination. She had been on the Astral Plane. She had seen the gulo and she knew its power. She knew what had to have happened. The only thing missing was the official confirmation.

She pulled open the chapel door to a startled "Oh!" Mrs. Lasky had clearly been in the act of exiting the small room.

"Forgive me," Raven said quickly. "I didn't mean to disturb you. You're..." She hesitated. Nobody who had just been abducted, nearly killed, and returned to find half her family in critical condition could conceivably be "all right". "You are unhurt?"

Colleen nodded. "You startled me is all." She laughed, a fraction too loudly. "Oh. You meant from... before. Yes, I'm fine." She leaned heavily against the wall. "No, I'm not. My husband's in a coma, fighting for his life, and nobody will tell me about my son's condition." She looked up. "You were with him, weren't you?"

Raven nodded uneasily. She didn't enjoy raw, primal, emotions such as those now surging beneath Colleen's brittle façade.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?"

Faced with the direct inquiry, Raven could only nod once more. "I believe I do, although I hope I'm wrong."

"What?" It was nearly a sob. "Please. I need to know. Good or bad, you have to tell me!"

Raven took a deep breath. "The belts that your husband created were designed to travel the Astral Plane. The Plane, however, has an affinity for certain components within the belt-elements that have come from the Plane and remained in this world only under specifically controlled circumstances. The Plane, however... calls to these elements. So long as their concentration is small, the risk is negligible."

"Risk?" Colleen repeated, turning paler.

"Of remaining trapped upon that plane of existence. When your son teleported the last time, he was holding fast to your belt. In effect, he teleported it away from you in the same instant that you both arrived upon the Astral Plane. At that moment, he was carrying double the normal concentration of those elements I'd mentioned. It was still only a small amount, but it was sufficient to awaken a gulo."

"Gulo? Colleen wrinkled her forehead. That... thing that attacked us?"

"You were in no danger from it," Raven stated. "You had nothing to attract it. Your son was another matter. I had hoped to engage the beast on my own and return you both here, unharmed. I do not know now whether I would have succeeded. However, the gulo was able to... mark your son. As a result, he is now tethered to the Astral Plane by a bond we dare not sever, lest he be lost to us permanently."

Colleen sagged against the wall, ashen-faced. "You said a moment ago that this... Astral Plane... calls to its own. You're saying that if we... if we break this... tether..." she stared at Raven. "The tether isn't keeping him bound to the Astral Plane, is it? It's holding him here. Whatever that thing did to him, it's as if it made it Michael's natural state to be... to be... Astral?"

Raven nodded. "As good a term as any."

"Can the doctors help him?"

Raven shook her head. "I fear not." Seeing the despondency in the other woman's eyes, she added softly, "but, perhaps, I can. I warn you," she continued, "I cannot change your son's condition. But I know much of the Astral Plane. I can teach this to your son. I can help him to resist the currents which pull him towards it. It will be a... treatment for his condition, but it cannot be a cure."

Colleen absorbed that. "Do what you can," she said finally. "Help my son."

[arcalian]

In another part of the hospital, Police Captain Renee Montoya could feel a tension headache coming on. She needed a smoke, badly. As soon as she was back in her unmarked, she promised herself. She placed one hand on her hip and felt the comforting outline of the pack of Duchesses. One day, she'd quit-hopefully long before the habit caused her any permanent damage. Right now, though? She could be dead from a gunshot wound or an overdose of Smilex tomorrow. Long-term health hazards were a far more abstract danger to her mind. Besides, even if she tossed the pack away, she knew that she was probably still getting the equivalent of six to eight cigarettes worth of second-hand smoke every time she walked up the front steps to GCPD headquarters and strode past her colleagues.

Methinks the lady-cop doth protest too much...

She winced. It was getting harder to suppress that small voice of reason as she got older. She fought to return her attention to Vera Klarner, who was calmly explaining the situation. Much as she disliked having an organization like the CBI or the CIA encroaching on GCPD turf, she knew better than to unload her personal feelings on the earnest young woman standing before her. "So... you were undercover with these..."

"Terrorists," Vera supplied. "Yes. They decided to plant me in STAR Labs to keep abreast of Dr. Lasky's progress. From that point on, I shared my information both with the cell and with CBI. The abduction happened sooner than was anticipated. Unfortunately, nobody had planned on the device being used before it had been thoroughly tested. That forced our hand."

Renee frowned. "So, as I understand it, there are two people currently in critical condition because one of them couldn't keep his toys locked up and the other couldn't resist playing with them."

Vera's lips twitched. "That's about the size of it, Captain." Her expression quickly grew serious. "I hope they both pull through."

"What happened again?"

Vera sighed. "I was too damned slow. Dr. Lasky tried to stop the test. They shot him once. At the same time, Michael dove in. I'd speculate that he was hoping to teleport them both to safety, though that's something we can ask him later. He and his mother vanished for... less than a minute, I'd say. When they reappeared, the boy was," she frowned, "intangible. And that Titan-Raven-was there with him."

Montoya absorbed that. "She teleports," she said quietly. Her headache was suddenly much worse.

"Via the Astral plane. Just like the belt"

"Damn." She was going to apply for a job with a precinct in a small town, where she'd only ever have to deal with jaywalkers and an occasional drunk-and-disorderly.

"By the way," Vera added, "I do have regards for you from a former associate. That's if you're the same Renee Montoya who was a detective a couple years back..."

[arcalian]

Bruce and Jim had just finished clearing away the breakfast dishes when the doorbell rang.

"Mr. Wayne?" A heavyset man in his late thirties typed something into his Blackberry. "Bryan Krait. I'm your social worker." He extended a stubby-fingered hand toward the two men. Bruce shook it first.

"I hope you don't mind my stopping by unannounced," Krait continued with a thin smile. "I always find that I prefer my first meeting with a client to be more informal. You understand?" The right corner of his mouth stretched, causing his cheek to puff out slightly.

Bruce thanked whatever powers might be that he'd kept up with his meditation. "Of course," he said with feigned affability even as he sized up the newcomer. "Please. Come in." He reminded himself not to act too friendly. He had nothing to hide, at this moment-besides his annoyance at the surprise visit, of course. Still, if he acted too open and aboveboard, it would likely arouse Krait's suspicions. Then it would take even longer to get him out of here.

"We've just finished breakfast," Jim volunteered, following Bruce's lead. "But can I offer you anything?"

From the outraged expression on the younger man's face, anyone would have thought that Jim was attempting to bribe him. And with a ridiculously low sum, at that. "Certainly not!" He ran his index fingertip along the top of the wainscoting then brought the digit close to his face. "Humph," he grunted. "Well. At least you're keeping it livable." He pulled out his Blackberry again. "Now, I understand your doctor has recommended you purchase some fish. Has this been done?"

Bruce nodded. "They're in the den," he said evenly. "This way." I am a mountain. I am solid. Unchanging. The winds blow, the sun beats down, the rains fall but I am unaffected. I am serene. I want to lift Krait up by the collar of his shirt and the seat of his pants and throw him through the bay win- He caught himself. "Just through here," he beckoned.

I am a mountain...

[arcalian]

When the Signal went up the next night, Batman wasn't entirely sure he wasn't being set up. After hearing Raven's report, he wouldn't blame Montoya for holding him accountable. Sure, he'd done everything he could to dissuade Michael from taking up the costume. At the back of his mind, though, he wondered whether his own actions, night after night, had provided all the incentive the boy had needed. It was the old debate about violence on TV and in video games and the impact they might have on impressionable minds. No, the creators weren't directly responsible. And not everyone who played Castle Wolfenstein... he stopped. He was dating himself. Not everyone who played Silent Hill 2 got the urge to find a semi-automatic and go on a killing spree. But if playing games like that caused one person to go on a murderous rampage, it was one person too many.

Careful, Dick. Not everything that happens is your fault or your responsibility.

Yeah, but would Montoya see things the same way his inner voice did? Especially after what she'd said to Batgirl the other night?

When he was still a half-block away, he drew deeper into the shadows, the better to take a surreptitious view of his destination. He spotted no officers crouching beside chimneys, no SWAT skulking by stairway accesses, and no police helicopters circling. There was only Renee Montoya standing by the floodlight and a stylized bat insignia lighting up the night sky.

Batman lifted his binoculars to his eyelets. Montoya seemed tense to him, but not angry. He took a deep breath. Then slowly, deliberately, he broke cover. Bruce would have sneaked up and startled her, Dick knew. It was probably the closest Batman ever came to playing a practical joke. Dick had to wonder at the wisdom in that sort of approach. He had worn a police uniform himself at one point, and the one thing he was sure of was that trying to surprise a person with strong combat reflexes and a loaded weapon was damned stupid. Maybe it had worked for Bruce with Gordon, but Dick wouldn't chance it with Montoya.

The police captain's eyes widened and she took an involuntary step backward when she realized how close he'd been to her position. Before she could say anything, however, Dick cut her off. "I didn't want to show myself until I had a better idea of the reception I'd be getting."

Montoya sighed. "You're clear. We still haven't been able to talk to the kid, but we know you didn't try to recruit him."

Batman nodded.

Her expression turned shrewd. "You're still second-guessing yourself, though."

"It shows that much?"

She smiled then. For one instant, Batman seemed almost boyish in his chagrin. "Actually," she chuckled, "that cowl covers a multitude of sins. However," she raised her index finger, "by your own admission, you weren't sure how we were going to react, which would imply that you weren't sure we would hold you blameless."

"It happened on my watch, Captain," Batman said quietly. "And it might not have, had I not been... active."

Montoya sniffed. "You know, I think there's a Frank Capra movie that goes into what the world would be like if the hero of the film never existed. You should rent it." She sighed. "The kid disregarded every warning he got. He doesn't deserve what happened-nobody does-but he's only got himself to blame for... What did happen, anyway?"

Batman considered for a moment. "The best explanation so far is that instead of just passing through the Astral Plane on his way from point A to point B, something went wrong and he's partly stuck there."

"How do you unstick him?"

"That's the problem. I'm not sure if we can." He sighed. "This is more Raven's area of expertise. If Michael's condition ends up being permanent, and he's turned meta on us, then she'll need to work with him on controlling what he can and can't do." He grimaced. "Sorry. I've been thinking about this all day."

"No, it's fine," Montoya said. "So... he might end up... one of you after all."

Batman shook his head. "That's for down the road. Maybe. Years down the road. Right now the focus has to be on finding out the extent of his abilities and making sure he only uses them when he intends to. I'm not the best person to oversee his training in any case."

"That's Raven?"

"That's Raven."

Montoya nodded. "By the way, Romy sends regards."

"Romy?" Batman blinked. "Romy Chandler?"

"The same. She's working with CBI now. Doing well."

Dick smiled broadly. "That's great to hear."

"Yeah. So..."

"So Raven's spoken with the kid's mother. She understands the situation pretty well, and she's all for getting him the help he needs. That makes it easier. It's never ideal when we have to go behind the parents' backs. Just one more layer of stress. When it comes to untrained metas, stress is what you don't want."

"I can imagine." She took a deep breath. "How's... Ba-I mean, Bruce?"

The smile fell away. "It's an adjustment. But he'll deal. He always does."

"Tell him the instructor position is open for him if he wants it." She waited for his nod. "Now, about the Triads... You say Cobblepot's working with them?"

"I don't have any solid evidence yet. Nothing that'll stand up in court or convince a jury. But yes. He is."

Montoya absorbed that. "Sounds like you've got some work to do, then." She smiled. "I'd suggest you snap to it."

Dick raised his fingers to his forehead in a mock-salute. "Aye, aye, Captain! Snapping to."

Renee laughed. "Get out of here."

[arcalian]

"What's on the agenda for Monday?" Barbara asked a week later.

Dick finished the last of his fries. "Bruce has his session with Alex, so I'm meeting him after it again. We'll probably have an early supper and then, he asked if I could give him a hand with a few things at the manor. I'll patrol from there."

Barbara picked up her plate and wheeled over to the sink. "Oh."

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing." She slammed the plate into the sink and hurled the cutlery down on top of it. "Absolutely nothing."

She wheeled back, grabbed the ketchup and mustard and rolled over to the fridge.

"Hey." Dick jumped up and intercepted her on her way back.

"Out of my way, FBW."

"Hey, talk to me." She hadn't used that nickname since he'd admitted to her that he actually disliked it. Considering that Barbara had a photographic memory, this was not a good sign. He, however, did not have a photographic memory. Which left him at a disadvantage here and now. "What am I...?" Not her birthday. That's not for another two months. And our first anniversary living together isn't until October. It's barely July. So why was this Monday so impor... Oh. "Monday," he said softly, "is the second anniversary of our getting back together."

"Bingo."

Dick winced. "I'm sorry, Babs. It totally slipped my mind."

"Obviously."

"Babs..."

"It's fine, Dick," she said wearily. "I know. Are you planning on making a routine of this? Getting together after his sessions?"

"They take a lot out of him," Dick's tone was placating. "He tries to hide it, but I can tell. I just want him to know that he's not going through it alone."

Barbara choked off a laugh. "Not going through it alone? Dick, between you and my dad, when's the last time he was alone? He knows he can count on you-on us. But that doesn't mean that you have to spend every free minute at the manor!" She turned away. "I knew going into the relationship that with the kind of lives we both lead, there'd have to be a bit of give and take. I just... wasn't planning on it being me doing most of the giving," she sighed, "and you doing some of the giving, and..."

"And Bruce doing all of the taking?" Dick's voice was suddenly colder.

"I don't mean it like that."

"Actually, I think you do. Babs, he's been through-"

"I know what he's been through. What he's going through. And it's hard and it's hell and it stinks, but you can't always be there for him just because, for once, he's letting you!"

For a long moment, Dick just looked at her. Then, "You're wrong Babs." He took a ragged breath. "You're..." He exhaled. "I'm going out for some fresh air."

"Dick, I-"

"Save it for later," he cut her off. "I need some air." He started to leave, then spun around. "And something else to think about? All this time, one of our biggest issues with him was that he wouldn't talk things out. Well, Babs, he's trying. And I'll be damned if I'm going to tell him I don't want to hear it."

Barbara flinched. "But you'll say it to me," she said softly.

The barb hit home. Dick winced. "I-"

Barbara turned her back. "Go ahead, Dick. Get your fresh air. You'll probably have to drive up to Bristol to get away from the city smog anyway. But things can't go on like this forever. Sooner or-"

"Later," Dick cut her off. He stepped out quickly and pulled the door shut after him.

Barbara lowered her head as her hands clenched to fists in her lap. What was this situation doing to them?

[arcalian]

In a diner on the outskirts of Sanford, Selina Kyle nearly spit her coffee out all over her copy of the Maine Daily News. "Feline Fatale at large," she read the headline in disbelief "The notorious Catwoman, late of Gotham City, paid a visit to Lincoln County this week..."

According to the article, the police had dusted the all rooms at the bed and breakfast for fingerprints. Crap. Her prints were in the FBI database. Why hadn't Oracle caught this? If she had, she'd know where you were. For a moment, she wondered whether Barbara had let the query get by out of petty revenge. No, she decided. She knew Barbara better than that. Somehow, this had just slipped through... Oh, no. She read further. The thief confessed to being my accomplice? I don't work with... Damn those lazy bastards and their crazy imaginations. They must have built a theory and then invented the 'facts' to fit it. Terrific! Now, there was an all-points bulletin out for her. They'd be combing the area for her. And Sanford wasn't anywhere near far enough away from Wiscasset.

Helena began to fuss then, drawing unwanted attention her way. The article mentioned she had a child with her. At least it didn't say they suspected her of kidnapping her.

Forcing herself to stay calm, Selina got up, lifted her daughter out of the high chair, and carried her outside to the car. It was less than an hour to the New Hampshire border, but she wouldn't feel safe again until she'd put considerably more distance between herself and the Maine state line.

How long could she keep this up? She wondered.

"Da!" Helena exclaimed.

Selina felt a pang. "He's not here, Baby," she whispered. But I wish he were...

[arcalian]

Dodge was sitting up in bed and listening as Raven explained a basic meditation technique when Colleen Lasky walked in.

"Mom!" he exclaimed, the lesson forgotten. "Where've you been? I though you were coming after breakfast. Did you bring me ice cream?" He blinked innocently at Raven. "When I'm sick, I always get ice cream."

"But you are not sick, Michael," Raven reminded him. "You are changed."

"Not when it comes to loving ice cr-" He broke off suddenly as Colleen stifled a sob. "Mom? What's...?" His fair skin grew paler. "It's not... Dad?"

His mother sagged. "When I came in this morning, he was... they said he didn't suffer. He never r-regained con-cons..." She leaned forward to embrace him. Her arms passed through his torso.

"No," Dodge whispered in a voice nobody could hear. "No. Not Dad. It's not fair."

"Michael," Raven began softly.

Dodge turned toward her, his eyes hard, as his body regained its substance. "You'd better start teaching me everything I need to do to get out of here," he said tersely. "Because once I do, I'm going to find the person who killed him and I'm going to take him to the Astral plane and feed him to the gulo!"

Continued...

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