2014.04.10 - Fly Away Home

Within Gotham, there is a certain facility owned by Wayne Enterprises. And it holds some of the most dangerous, deadly, and lethal chemical agents and weapons known. Samples taken from countless villains, unscrupulous corporations, and more. One vial taken from this building could result in threatening an entire city. Unsurprisingly, that means security is at a maximum. It is a prison. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out.
As if that was a barrier to the Joker.
Presently he sits cross-legged on the roof, beside a man wearing pure black. Heavy bodyarmor is upon his chest, and both gauntlets are metallic and high-tech. A facemask with red lenses is worn. He's large, almost six foot eight. "You were a very expensive man." The Joker compliments. "Even just for helping with my Hero Hunting hobby." No reply comes from the figure.
"Consider this overtime." Waiting patiently, the larger man moves and pulls out a blowtorch. He carefully cuts into the ventilation grill, bypassing critical areas that would report a breech. The Joker unfolds a giant map of the entire building, with every security measure outlined clearly.
"I was impressed. The man who had access to these blueprints wouldn't relent even after every finger on his hand was broken. But his little daughter... that changed things entirely." Indeed, the person who oversees this entire building is having a 'sick day'. A very, very sick one.
However, there are safeguards not written down. Ones that connect only to Batman and his associates. And right now, it just registered a break-in at one of the most ominous possible.
Hefting a giant dufflebag, the Joker descends into the shaft along with his mysterious company, humming lightly as they slither through the dark... laser grids are carefully bypassed with specialized devices from the frontman, Joker grunting and drumming fingers impatiently each time. Really. They are downright EXCESSIVE in keeping people out of here...!!
Nightwing is patrolling the Gotham skyline. It's a usual route, and tonight's been an usual night - but that's all about to change. Technology has come a long way..used to be, you were lucky to get a radio signal on these rooftops. But now? An entire Batcomputer's worth of data sits in a mote of suspended liquid crystal held in lenses that cover his eyes, yet give him full and even expanded visibility. Data, terrabytes of the stuff, is held before his eyes in a HUD type fashion. It's this that alert him to the break in at one of the priority buildings in town. Such is, anything is to be dropped when the alarm activates.
Unsure of what he'll find, he starts using the rooftops as his personal transportation system, navigating them in a form and function that even Batman himself could admire. What would take the Bat 10 minutes, maybe even 12, will only take Nightwing six flat. He's learned a lot over the years, and knowing that he's the only one on deck for this means he's going to have to swing for the fences when he gets there.
Little did he know he'd be greeting a very old friend, indeed.
Slowly, carefully, the Joker's infiltration continues. More backup emergency signals notify Nightwing of the situation. The building is still on zero alert. That means that this is an incredibly professional operation, to say the least. Six minutes is a long time to do what he needs, and he is deathly efficient with a goal in mind. He remains above a grill with a hallway, reaching into his dufflebag and pulling out a slurpee. He sips at it idly, while the masked figure glances over. "It's melted. he grumbles. Footsteps are heard approaching, and Joker idly slips a needle into the straw. The moment the guard passes beneath, PFFT! He grasps the side of his neck, only a square inch of exposed skin. Before beginning to spasm and collapsing to the ground.
The hiss of a door opening, and a shout of alarm. "Hmmhmm..." A handful of gumballs follow, before he drops them clattering through the grill. The assembled guards glance up, just as a burst of purple cloud envelops them. They spasm and struggle immediately, most caught rigid in the midst of reaching for the alarm switches on their radios, before they shudder and laugh, skin whitening into a grin.
The grill removed, Joker slips down with dufflebag in hand, once more working at his slurpee. No alarm. The reason? Because the guards who rushed out to help were in the monitor room; the door still open, and three seats vacant. As the mist boils around his knees, the Joker strides within, his shadow right behind.
A few deft keystrokes disables the ability to call alarm. And then he systematically navigates the system, unlocking each sealed door between this room and the Level A storage... where the most dangerous biohazards are kept. That's as far as he can go from this console, so the rest of his slurpee is simply poured over the delicate electronics. Hisses, sparks, and then the monitors all go black, smoke rising.
Nightwing would land on the building, as a 'critical security error' pings in his ear.
Nightwing lands on the building, just as a 'critical security error' pings in his ear piece.
Still unknowing who's trying to break in here, or if they even know what this place is or not. He begins the quiet, stealthy work of following the break-in artists down the shaft. He's careful not to draw alarm or notice to himself as he sets about the task.
Of course, Nightwing will see the countermeasures in place. The invisible laser grids hidden by where two sections meet have been intercepted without triggering them through the careful use of mirrors. A number of these were avoided, and something melted through a couple security grills of titanium-alloy intended to segregate blocks of the building. Still hot. Not far behind.
Leaping up from the security terminal, the Joker then strides back out into the hall, shadow in tow. The Smilex is still whirling around beneath the open grill, three men standing rigid, twitching and grinning as a fourth lies dead amongst them, like people in the midst of 'Freeze Tag' that failed to reach their security alarms. They, eventually, will be what Nightwing sees...
With the cameras now disabled and the ability to send an alarm to lockdown intercepted, only the occasional guard is a concern. Struggling with his bag, three men round corners, shouting and pressing the emergency button and moving towards pistols. The black shadow fires from a sleek pistol, striking them in the upper torso and head, creating a cloud of Smilex; almost instantly incapacitating them into wax statues.
Section C: Minor Danger.
La la la.
Section B: Moderate Danger. Digging around, the Joker finds the key combination from a bloody scrap of paper. If it was wrong, the man's family dies. Always good to ensure authenticity. Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep. Heavy doors slowly slide open.
And then they arrive before the more imposing Section A, where his goal lies. This one requires a retinal and hand scanner, from two different people. With a grunt, the Joker drops his duffle bag.
Unzipping it, two heads and two hands are pulled out, covered in plastic and surrounded by heated electric blankets.
The unlocky Security Head, and the kind man who gave him the keycode for Sector B.
Two are tossed to the unknown man. Unwrapping them, heads and hands press in tandem to the identification machinery.
"Authenticating... Authenticating..."
"Access granted." Two layers of sealed doors hiss open one by one, before the bodyparts are simply dropped to the ground. "Woohoo!"
Nightwing is creeping up on whomever is here. He passes the circumvents and the bypasses, and the out and out brute force attacks. Whoever did this is very professional, and very dangerous. This is smelling worse by the second, and of course, all he needs to see are the guard who've been shot with smilex gas.
Nightwing frowns, and presses on even harder. Hopefully, it's a gang of his thugs. But it's not likely, not a place like this. He takes a deep breath and steels himself for the inevitable face off that will come, and the inevitable lecture he'll recieve from Batman.
Nightwing rounds the corner, just as the Joker and the armored figure with the metal gauntlets is striding through the two doors; the middle area sealed, of course. Pausing, the white figure slowly turns, grinning wickledly in the direction of Dick. That same, manic face and twisted green eyes that were once stilled permanently, the life literally beaten out of the monster.
Until Bruce brought him back. And now he stands, in a room with glass walls housing samples of everything the world is never meant to use, but must exist for scientific analysis. To counter. To defeat.
"Hello." he offers, wriggling his fingers. The two heads and two hands discarded amidst bloodied plastic and battery-operated heating blankets is clear. Few people in the world could stand where he is now. But a complete and utter lack of morality does much for that. And who is the man to his left?
Analysis of the gauntlets indicates a mercenary known as 'Ace'. Unpowered. Uses high-tech gauntlets, and is known as the 'Man of a Thousand Tricks'. He specializes in Anti-Vigilante actions. Probably not the first time he's encountered the Bat Family, but prison is never a permanent solution. His hand to hand combat is formidable, but no danger to Dick. What's a danger is a man capable of doing nothing that would be expected. Perfect pairing with the Joker.
Nightwing notes the heads and hands there and makes a look of disgust that is awfully familiar. Like Batman, like Robin. He doesn't try to rush, that'll only make Joker rabbit. He doesn't respond to the greeting, either, which means he's really got Dick's attention or maybe his looser nature has tightened up a little in the presence of the Clown Prince of Crime. He gives Ace a measured look and finds him wanting. He trudges on towards Joker, expression grim.
"It's been awhile, Wingers." Joker states, chipper as ever, during the slow approach. "How's the solo gig working out? I heard you were in Bludhaven these days... nostalgia, perhaps? OH! You really shouldn't come any closer. This area is for /authorized/ personnel only, after all." His fist then slams into a piece of glass, shattering it and striking the button beneath. Both doors slam shut, and a hiss of pneumatics is heard as the room is set into lockdown. Two squares of glass still show the Joker smiling through, as red lights whirl within. Before he turns to move away.
Hard lockdown. Even if Dickie-boy could get both hands and heads to the scanners at once, that's no longer enough. It's a 24 hour override. How does Joker plan to get out...? Impossible to know, but there's no doubt he *can.* He wouldn't have done that, otherwise.
Schematics pulled up through the cowl would quickly show how to access the maintenance circuits in a hidden panel on the floor in the corner. If interfaced, it should be able to walk him through how to power down the lockdown and get the doors open... although that will take some time.
Time the Joker has in a proverbial candystore.
Time that Dick has no choice but to give him. He heads in the direction of the corner, and pops the access panel and begins the long procedure that will unlock the room. Of course, that's exactly how Joker planned to get out again. Except he wasn't counting on Nightwing showing up - and that means Joker may night get out at /all/.
Slowly, the Joker tours the interior. There's all kind of chemical agents from various agencies. WW2 era inventions. Hydra toxins. Now and then the Harlequin picks one up and looks it over, before setting it down with a careless rattle that sends Ace stiffening in discomfort. "Boring, boring, boring... oh? What's this?"
He then enters a small room, that has small quantities of Scarecrow's patented fear agent. "Hah! There's so many variants here... how THOROUGH of them!" Ones you inject, liquid ones for coating blades, ones that go in water, strong doses, light ones, modified ones...
"Wait." He drops a vial, which shatters and releases a billow of gas. Joker's out the glass door, and Ace curses before shutting it, trapping it within. Looking around with a manic expression, he then enters a large glass room.
"WHAT! NO!" Smilex. Smilex everywhere!! He starts plucking up the various cocktails, hurling them to the ground. "NO! NO! NO! This is proprietary information!!" Of all the singular villain rooms, this one has the most. It's never quite the same twice. And countless modifications allow it to bypass immunities. He's most proud of the acidic variant; destroys most breathing filters. But... they have it! Even his liquid kind that works on skin contact only! He only used that like, TEN TIMES!
Ace stands outside as Joker rampages within, breaking every sample, yanking over the giant cabinets on data and research, breaking a computer and hurling the server into the armored glass so hard it cracks. "Die. Die. Die!!" he growls amidst a whirling, purple cloud, spraying acid from a clown's horn on as much as he can. The computer is toast, as is a large majority of written records. Kicking the glass around, he then stomps over to the door. Smacking a button, ventillation systems roar, sucking away the gas in a few moments.
"Hrmph." Slipping out and slamming the door, he only then remembers: Right. He came here for a REASON! And that wasted far too much time...
Nightwing looks over his shoulder and smiles with genuine pleasure as the Joker completely loses it over the smilex samples. He never thought he'd be the one to ruin Joker's day, but he will most assuredly take it, "You know," he says, looking up from the long drawn out procedure to open the rooms (who thought that was a good idea, anyway? A procedure to save lives that takes eight minutes? Are you kidding me??) "That's not gonna help ya, Jokey Smurf." - and although Joker can't see it, he winks, "We've got doubles. We're kinda like NASA that way."
"SHUT UP OUT THERE." Joker growls. A dangerous tone. That's always worse. He's so much harder to handle when angry. He no longer holds back his lethality when it's less of a game. Still, he begins looking around, before finally finding the room he wants. 'ILLEGAL HUMAN ENHANCEMENT'. There's tons of serums, injections, and other items within that can give one monstrous or temporary powers, and are one of the worse things he could get his hands on. Mutant Growth Hormone. Venom. More radical serums from singular villains. Even a sample of what turned Kurt into the Lizard. Mumbling lightly to himself, the Joker brightens, before plucking up a bottle. "Here it is." He then places it within a pocket... before snapping his fingers. Ace tosses him a baton, and he begins breaking the samples. Smashing everything. Knocking over the racks. It will take days now to find out which one he took, which one is missing. Otherwise, the surprise would be ruined.
"Okay. Let's go." he grumbles to Ace, just as Nightwing finishes the override. The twin doors snap open with a crack, hiss of de-pressurized air, and the red lights turn off. Both Joker and Ace are standing in the middle of the room.
"So. I got what I wanted. What do you say you just let me leave... then, when my grand play starts, it's FAR more entertaining to stop." That white grin remains stretched. "Yes? No?"
Dick gets up from the panel and walks..
..right past Ace..
And quite very deliberately punches Joker in the dead center of his face. It's not even a haymaker, just a straight get-your-attention jab.
"No." is all Nightwing says, and then pulls his escrima with equal deliberation, anticipating the oncoming Hero Hunter.
Nightwing is just marching forward. Ace gets in the way with a smirk, and then suddenly takes a swing. Swish. Nightwing is amongst the most nimble and acrobatic men alive, slithering past easily. Joker's grin falters right before he's slugged in the face, blood spattering as he's sent flying backwards, skidding on his back with a loud linoleum squeak. "OW!! 'NO' was GOOD ENOUGH!!" he hisses.
With a growl, Ace twists into a backfist, but that segues into a short uppercut. A duck would make the dodge slightly more difficult. Oho. This guy is actually quite good; were he against Huntress or Spoiler, he'd likely come out on top. He has a reputation for a reason. In fact, Nightwing would find he's martially only a notch above; outside his superhuman reflexes, of course. It probably forces him to take more serious notice of the Anti-Vigilante, even as Joker struggles to get on hands and knees to begin rising...
That's a silly name for a player!
Nightwing sidesteps to get out of the way. He switches the hold on one of those sticks so that the end is perpendicular to the ground, and uses that for swinging at Ace, giving him a loaded fist to punch with. He swings the other traditionally, like a blackjack. He strikes for Ace's side, and uses the makeshift load to punch wherever he opens up.
The series of blows shows the true advantage Ace has here; his armor. Blows to his chest, even with Dick's full weight behind the firmly grasped shaft, only thumps impotently. Some kind of heavy ceramics; human-strength hits are not going to work. His forearms have a similar issue, metallic cracks echoing in the room. His upper thighs, biceps, knees, and face are the only vulnerable points; but he's not a fool, and focuses his guard and stance to keep those areas defended. In a brutal clash, Nightwing finally manages a twisting springing kick to hit Ace in the face and send him staggering backwards.
"Tch..." He then unsheathes a long blade, bringing it up in a gauntleted hand. But suddenly his free one fires a few darts, shooting towards Nightwing before he lunges and strikes down, trying to press the offensive!
Joker's back on his feet, pinching his nose and tilting his head back. No, no. He mustn't move around until it clots.
Nightwing falls back into a bridge, holding himself up with one hand as the darts go whizzing past. He rolls out of the way of the incoming blade strike and kips up before he can get swung at again. He moves obliquely, holding one of the sticks up to travel down the length of the sword and as he comes off, rolls himself around so he can land a couple of shots on the back of Ace's thighs and knees as he goes by.
"Son of a bitch... always wanted to have the trophy of a big dog..." Ace growls. He's outmatched. His armor is the only reason he's still in the game, if barely. However, Nightwing would likely remember; the reason he wins is ambushes. It only takes one mistake to go down against this man, if rumors are to be believed. Dropping to a knee painfully, he whirls back up and then stabs. It's all torso movement, pure speed; but the moment it finishes, his wrist whirls, pointing the tip towards where Nightwing dodges.
BANG!
The blade fires out like a rocket. There was no indication the blade could do that; it must have been a grip sensor. But it's only the first layer of the con...
After /that/, Ace points the hilt, and fires a last time; this one launching out two taser darts, overcharged battery intended to go through most forms of insulation... or outright kill someone with none.
The Joker's finally recovered, patting his pocket to make sure that he's still got his serum. "Hmm." The blood is wiped away above his lip, grasping his nose and *crack*ing it back into position.
Dick bats the blade out of the way with one of the sticks with the reflex that a lifetime of conditioning in martial arts can only provide. Anyone else would've taken it through the shoulder. This leads to number, two, which he didn't see coming which is the taser attac. Nightwing's been taserd a lot. Batman used to tase him just so he could get used to it and maneuver within it. So when he feels his muscle control go out the window, he remembers his training flops towards Ace's feet, curled into a fetal position. Hopefully, Ace bites at this, and does exactly what Dick wants him to do.
The hilt of the blade is thrown away. Given the intensity of the charge, it can't last long. Finding Nightwing thumping into his shins, he takes a step backwards, bracing himself before growling and lifting a foot, aiming to stomp a well-armored heel towards Nightwing's temple. The Joker has returned to his dufflebag, rummaging around within it before coming up with something. "Aha!"
Wait for it..
Wait for it...
GO!
When Ace lifts his leg to stomp on Dick, he spins out, and hooks Ace's heel in the crook of his knee and pulls - catching Ace off balance, he returns the tasering favor with one of his own, connecting with his right gauntlet and firing up the 100,000 volt stun gun concealed therein. He lets it sit there and discharge a couple of seconds before he disengages and stands over Ace, without his sticks, but ready to stomp lest he be stomped, if Ace tries to get back up.
The gauntlet discharges an immense amount of electricity, pressed to bicep instead of the armor; Ace is probably well-insulated, if he's worth any mettle. He cries out and spasms, jerking heavily before thumping limp with a hiss of smoke. Still stirring. He's a durable one.
And then, a glance might see the Joker. He's wielding a comical, oversized wooden mallet, held before him like a sword; the end bigger than his head. Grinning, ear to ear. The hell does he hope to do with that?
Suddenly the blunt end facing Nightwing explodes, and a small boxing glove erupts out at nearly the speed of a bullet. The comical wires, powered by the explosion, attempting to literally punch Nightwing in the face with the lead tip.
But a moment later, after reaching max extension, it explodes.
In a split second, a cloud of heavy purple Smilex is flooded over Ace, rolling against the glass, floor, and ceiling... Taking your eyes off the Joker can be dangerous indeed. This brand goes through skin, and a respirator is no defense. A postage stamp exposed, and in seconds one would feel it's effects begin...!
Nightwing isn't ready for this. Not in the slightest, so when he turns around to face Joker and his mallet he knows something is up but it's so fast he can't even dodge it and the next thing he knows there's a double lungful of smilex for his troubles. He's been trained to deal with this as well but never in this concentration. There's literally nothing he can do.
The mallet is hurled aside as the metal partially retracts. Idly, the Joker reaches into the dufflebag, yanking out one final item. Smilex is a terrible thing; it begins to paralyze, starting with the lips painfully drawing upwards. Every muscle tingles and stiffens, nerves triggered into spasms. Breathing is gradually hampered, and gasps turn into what sounds like laughs or cackles. Ace is struggling himself, but Joker dissipates the remaining Smilex with a hand before crouching down. He stabs him with a syringe in the throat, and with a sudden jolt Ace gasps in breath, shuddering and rolling over. He leaves it dangling out.
"Nightwing, Nightwing, Nightwing. Normally, when we're in the interlude of one of my plans, after I defeat you, I leave you cursing my name. Shaking a fist. Then, after I have my laugh, you defeat me. That's the way this works."
A rasp on the ground, metal on metal. A brutal kick attempts to send Nightwing on his back. What's hefted up is a crowbar. Old. Rusted. Bits of blood still on it.
"This look familiar? Last time we met, you killed me. Do you remember...? That broke the RULES."
He moves to step over Dick's torso, looming in the mild light of the room as Ace struggles to his feet. "And naughty boys who break the rules... need to be *punished.*"
What follows is a brutal swing towards Nightwing's face. Both hands. It doesn't stop; torso, shoulders, arms, cackling like a maniac as he continues to beat on him, even as the Smilex strengthens, incapacitates, suffocates...
And all he could do amidst it all is laugh.
Nightwing has felt the horrible effects of the gas. In small doses. Enough to make him understand what the more unfortunate go through, how to deal with the effects when exposed, however briefly. In all his years, he has never had to withstand a full strength dose.
It's hell on Earth.
The symptons take hold sooner and harder than he remembered and in what seems like minutes but is actually seconds, he is gasping for breath - but to Joker? It sounds like the most musical laughter he's ever heard.
Even while beating Dick half to death.
Again. Again. Again. The crowbar descends. Dick has to know. Has to remember. Poor Jason Todd; it was this weapon that beat him so badly, even without the explosion, he would have likely passed. That was simply icing on the cake. But Nightwing had been different; not boring. He could always sense that spark of potential, deep inside. A bitter resentment, desire to go out on his own... and a potential for violence.
He *wanted* Nightwing to kill him. And he did. How glorious it was, to have Batman desperately revive him... but. Well. That was really all he wanted.
There's a final swing aimed for Nightwing's jaw, before panting, Joker collapses to his knees. He presses his hands upon Dick's torso, ear gently pressing over his heart. Listening, attentively.
"Hush, little baby, don't say a word... Joker's gonna watch a dying bird..."
Waiting for the last, final beat.
Dick is gasping for breath. Gasping. Gasping. Gasping.
Then for all the air he sucks in, it exits in a rush.
And his heart stops.
The Joker makes shushing noises, pressing a finger to Dick's bloody lips. It's a fight, of course. Yet blackness would slowly grasp him like a tight fist. A strange sense of floating. All senses shutting off. And that dreadful, last moment of consciousness, floating in a void before everything is gone...
And a moment later, Joker stabs a massive needle straight into Nightwing's chest. It penetrates clean through, impacting the side of his heart. Pressing down the plunger, a sudden rush of chemicals would violently bring him back. The heart that was just gone would be going a mile a minute. A moment later, a second needle strikes him in the neck. This one immediately starts abating the fatal effects of the poisoning. Gradually turning skin back to white, although bloodied lips and eyes remain. Yet beaten as he was with the crowbar, that will hardly be a consolation.
A hand grasps Dick's chin, angling his freshly conscious gaze to meet Joker's. Grin now ear to ear.
"Okay. We're even. All is forgiven."
Standing up, still panting, blood idly drips from his crowbar. "Bring him." Ace grasps Nightwing, and they make their way back through the hallways. The lockdown of the most dangerous room notified the guards, although Joker is in no mood now. A flick of a hand, marbles bouncing once, before a massive explosion blows them away in the midst of telling him to freeze. Ace has resumed firing, Smilex rounds striking others, pushing their way back to the open vent above. Police are notified now; likely even the Batman. But this building is not located near anything. By grappling hook, it would take a good fifteen minutes. By batmobile... well, he might be cutting it close.
Ace and Joker together manage to shove Nightwing into the vent, needle in his chest catching and finally yanked out. His condition is still extremely critical, to say the least. After some maneuvering, and throwing another round of explosive marbles, Joker and his shadow both make it into the shaft.
Rapidly navigating through despite the extra baggage, the trio emerge to fresh air and a jubilant sigh. "Ah. A beautiful evening. Doesn't life feel GRAND?"
Ace drags Nightwing over to the far edge of a building, and then tosses him off. A moment later, Joker jumps, curled up into a cannonball. Ace is more careful.
A large inflatable matt is beside his waiting van. Sirens are everywhere. In a heartbeat, Nightwing is stuffed inside, Ace following. "Drive."
The vehicle merges into traffic just as police whirl into sight, moving to surround the building. "Don't worry, Wingers. I won't let you die..." Patting him gently on the head. Ace is cursing. "I want a fucking bonus for that. Shit." Smilex Insurance is expensive, however...
Dick is broken, beaten, and near unconscious. He can't really fight Joker off, much less Ace, so he's a ragdoll for the time being. The world feels like dubstep between his ears, and he's still disoriented through everything that happened to him really within the span of a few minutes. All he can do is raggedly gasp for breath after the beating he took, and even then, it's hard to do through cracked or broken ribs. Not the first time, not the last, but damn he hates it.
The van suddenly stops in an alley. "Leave us." The door slides open, and the Joker yanks Nightwing out. A moment later, the vehicle is speeding away. He kicks Nightwing on his back, before grasping the domino mask and yanking it off. This is it. The ultimate insult. His secret identity, public. But... Joker's eyes are glazed. Disinterested. As if he doesn't see the figure before him anymore, now that he lacks the markings of Batman. Roughly, less then gently, Nightwing is pulled from his suit, the last of the spandex yanked from his legs. The entirety of it is balled up and stuffed into an adjacent dumpster. "Fly away, little birdie..." Joker says, turning to walk back into the alley with hands in his pockets. Not once looking back. Not once bothering to look at his form. It's obvious... Joker simply, purely, doesn't *care* who Nightwing really is beneath it all.
"Fly away..."
Hazy eyes would see the hospital across the street. It would take some staggering and struggling to get in view, but he would manage to get attention before once more darkness claims him, and he becomes one with the night...
Dick doesn't look back, doesn't think much of anything except that he's glad he has on clean underwear. Shivering, in shock, and nearly unconscious, he makes it just a few steps into Gotham General's emergency room before collapsing in a heap.
Category:Log