Chapter Text
Red and blue lights strobed silently, reflecting off of the muddy snow lining the street. Commissioner Gordon frowned hard with his hands in his pockets, watching the still belltower of the church. Spot lights of about six cruisers were pinned on the tower, making it glow in the night fog. He sent a quick glance at his men surrounding the building, barricading the area.
Gordon could see their culprit, tucked into a shadow above the bell like a bat or a cockroach. He couldn’t safely send any men up there, and while he could gas the target out, they still didn’t have a means to deal with the meta just yet.
“
Mason’s made it to urgent care,”
The report crackled over his radio and Gordon let out a long breath.
They weren’t out of the water just yet, but it eased a tension in the air amongst his men. The meta hadn't killed one of them. Not yet, anyway.
“Have you identified the meta?”
Gordon managed to not visibly startle at the growled question. Batman was right next to him.
Gordon huffed. “No. Mason’s partner, Hale, didn’t get a clear look. Caucasian male, brunette, average height.”
“Abilities?”
“Fast and strong. And can climb.”
“Climb?”
Gordon gestured to the tower. “Hale chased the attacker here after the meta threw Manson across the street and into a parked car. He scaled the wall and hid up there.” He glanced at Batman briefly, but kept his eyes on the tower. He then said quietly, a confession and a warning, a small request for help. “My men are upset.”
The man beside him didn’t answer, but he was sure Batman understood.
“Have you initiated dialogue with the metahuman?” Robin asked from the otherside of Batman with the same level of commanding authority that was undermined by the boyish squeak to the kid’s voice.
“We’ve gotten no response from the meta.” Gordon answered with a sigh. “He hasn’t even moved in the last twenty minutes.”
“Hm.” Robin hummed in a poor imitation of Batman’s disapproving grunt.
Gordon lifted an eyebrow at the kid. He paused, glancing behind him. Batman was gone.
Robin scoffed at him. “Tt.”
Batman walked along the crest of the church in full view, moving towards the tower slowly. A meta no older than twenty attacked and killed two members of the Steel Sevens gang, attacked an officer of the Gotham City Police Department, and then fled. The Steel Sevens were notoriously violent with a high record of jumping civilians for petty cash. The most likely scenario here, in Batman’s opinion, was self defense against the gang then panic with the arrival with the police. With the theory that the meta wasn’t as hostile as reported, he approached the tower calmly.
The ledge of the bell tower stood at shoulder height. Batman’s head tilted up as he stood next to it.
The figure curled up in the shadow up on the ceiling didn’t move.
“I’m here to help,” Batman stated in lieu of a greeting.
He waited only to be met with silence. Frowning, Batman pulled a flashlight from his belt, illuminating the dark corner. A young man, a teen really, matching Hale’s description sat upside down on the ceiling, staring blankly straight ahead. What Hale failed to mention was the oddness of the boy’s attire and the injuries that littered his mostly bare limbs. Cuts, burns, and singed hair like he’d survived an explosion. The tattered remains of a red and blue suit clung to his torso. Despite all that and despite the fact he was surrounded, the boy looked completely at ease. Serene, as if unaware of his surroundings.
Watching the boy with caution, Batman fluidly climbed up into the tower. He moved around the tower, drawing closer. There was no change in the boy.
“Can you hear me?” Batman asked the figure.
When he got no response, he gently reached up and brushed his fingers across the boy’s forehead. He pushed, slowly tilting the boy’s head back to get a better look into his eyes. The pupils responded to the light he shone into the boy's face, but beyond that there was no reaction. Blood crusted on the boy’s temple.
“Robin,” Batman spoke into the comm as he removed his hand from the child on the ceiling.
“
Yes
?”
“Tell Gordon we need a collar and a stretcher up here.”
“The meta is unconscious?”
“I believe so.” Batman moved back a step to get a better look at how the boy was hanging up there, but only found the kid’s bare feet planted firmly on smooth stone.
A few minutes later, Gordon and a single paramedic joined him, Robin following close behind them. Gordon froze once he stepped around the bell. “I thought you said he was unconscious.”
“He is.”
Robin approached the corner confidently with a firm frown. He craned his neck, scrutinizing the meta. The wall behind him was unhelpfully smooth. Robin was sure he could climb up to the ceiling, but he would in no way be stable. He spun around, looking up at Batman. He pointed at the floor in front of him.
“...How are we going to get him down?” Gordon asked, giving the meta a wary look.
Batman stepped forward where Robin directed and held out his arm like a waiter offering the towel draped over it. Robin tisked, but used the arm to haul himself up onto Batman’s shoulder in a crouch. Batman took a step forward, getting Robin within reach. Not hesitating a moment, Damian checked the meta’s pulse, his pupils with a small light, and the wound on his temple.
“Well?” Gordon huffed impatiently.
“Collar, Gordon.” Robin held out a hand towards him.
Gordon sighed and turned to the paramedic, who fumbled to get it off his belt hook. He handed it over to Gordon and Gordon passed it to Robin.
“Careful, Robin,” Batman warned lowly.
“Of course.” Robin scoffed, getting the collar open and turning it on. “I am not an imbecile. Now prepare to catch.”
Robin readied the collar, hovering it in the air a fair distance from the meta’s neck before and snapping it into place with the speed of a cobra strike. Batman’s arms shot out, and Gordon heard the paramedic inhale sharply behind him. But nothing happened. The meta didn’t even flinch and remained on the ceiling despite the blinking green light on the collar indicating it being engaged.
Robin blinked in shock. “Has it malfunctioned?”
Batman slowly lowered his arms again, looking up at the collar. “No. It’s more likely that he doesn’t actually carry the meta-gene. He will need a collar custom made for his abilities.”
Robin stood, inspecting the meta’s feet with a hard frown. He reached up and prodded, testing the connection between the foot and the stone. Scrunching his nose, he tugged at it. To his surprise, the foot peeled free with minimal resistance. “Incoming, Batman.”
Robin pulled at the ball of the other foot, and it too pulled away from the stone and the meta dropped like a rock. Robin yelped a cut off scream as the foot stuck to his glove and yanked him down as well. He crashed to the ground, landing hard on his butt while Batman gracefully caught the meta. With a growl, Robin stood and his glove was freed as if it had never been stuck in the first place.
Batman ignored his frustration and stepped over to the stretcher. His cape billowed out around the clocktower floor as he knelt and gently lay the meta down. The meta stared blankly, blinking slowly.
“Make sure he gets checked over.”
“We will, Batman.” Gordon assured.