#There’s also rails on the bottom of the platforms in the batcave

[honeyplus]

I like to think the bat cave in wheelchair friendly before Barbara gets shot because Bruce and his children have to be condemned to wheelchairs sometimes. But I think after Barbara gets shot, Bruce really amps it up. Updates the ramps, adds rails, the works.

Barbara is hardly in the cave anymore but it does crack her up a little when she finds herself down there and sees a rail attached to an actual cave wall

[incoherentbabblings]

First Date (8/9)

Tim has one more test to pass before Bruce will allow him out as Robin. Like Dick and Jason before him, he has to avoid being caught by Batman for one night. He has already failed once, and is determined to succeed this time. Determination which might not count for much when Stephanie Brown is on the run from the mob. Her mother kidnapped as a way to threaten her father, Stephanie manages to escape and run into Tim. Unable to leave Stephanie alone when she is in need, Tim decides to try and multi-task. All he has to do is rescue Stephanie’s mother, take down the mob, avoid Batman, and get Stephanie to agree to a proper date all in one night. Absolute anarchy ensues  Ao3 link here!

After exiting the car, Tim had shot up to the neighbouring warehouse, looking down.  There was an obvious hole in the roof where Bruce most likely had crashed through.  The rain and wind had gotten worse since they had set off and it was a grim early morning in Gotham.

“Oracle, what happened to Batman?  Do you know?”

“We made a mistake.  We’d assumed that with the number of people out looking for you two, the numbers within the warehouse would be pretty manageable.  Ibanescu has more men behind him than we thought.”

“He’d have taken down a few first right, though?  Before?  He would have gone down fighting.”

Oracle give no indication that she had heard Tim.

“We need a view of the building, I’ll see what the Batmobile can do.”

Tim frowned to himself, finding the entire situation increasingly suspect, but said nothing.  He waited patiently whilst Barbara taught Stephanie how to use parts of the car.  Barbara had hooked their audio channels together, so he kept silent listening to Barbara’s instructions and Stephanie’s general confusion.  He felt a slight ringing in his ears as he felt the sonar pass through him multiple times.

“Do you get the image wherever you are?” Stephanie asked from inside the car.

“I do.  Can see there’s about fifteen bodies in there.  You two and Batman took out a few on your city travels.”

“Is Batman in there?”  She asked.

“Can’t say for certain, it doesn’t give a clear enough picture.  It’ll help Tim know what way to enter, so thank you Stephanie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Three men on the top floor, ten on the ground, congregated in two groups.  Two further back and off to the side than the others. Possibly Bruce and Crystal, though he wouldn’t know until he crashed in.  Sucking in air between his Tim, Tim clambered over to the hole in the roof and tentatively peered down.  He had to catch them off guard somehow…  He sighed, then spoke to Oracle.

“Going in now.  See if she can get the EMP to go off.  It’ll cut off my communications, but the other tech should still work.  It’ll mess with their stuff real good.”

“Be careful Tim.”

“Promise.”

He leaned over the edge of the hole and grabbed hold of the roof beams that were still intact and could support his weight.  He remained up high, creaking wood giving away his position, but the building was so old, and the weather was so bad that the entire structure was creaking regardless.  In his ear, he heard Stephanie ask,

“Oracle?  How do I set off an EMP?”

“One sec…  By the gear stick, there’s a circle of smaller buttons with a big button in the middle?”

“Hit the big button?”

“No.  Do not hit the big button.”

“What’s the big button do?”

“Don’t touch it.”

Tim snorted a laugh and struggled to contain it.  He moved overhead of one of the three men, waiting for Stephanie to mess with their electronics.

“What can I touch?”

“Bottom right.  Hit once, no more than one second.  It’s pretty fierce and will knock out a block if you hold it too long.”

Tim turned off his earpiece, knowing it would give a firecracker snap if he left it on, and waited.

Sparks lit up from the inside of the men’s jackets and trousers with their phone’s sparking off, and in one instance a fancy looking gun one man held fizzed so violently he dropped it with a comical squeal, arm almost spasming from the jolt. 

Looking at their disorientation, Tim dropped down on one gangster. The force of his weight was enough to make the man’s head ricochet off the wooden floorboards.  Before the other two had managed to turn around, Tim fiercely wacked one, then the other, with his bo staff.  The three men fell to the ground, out of action.

Easy peasy.

Pleased with himself, Tim made his way across the room, heading for the stairs.  Poking his head down, he could see the main hall of the warehouse.

The group of ten was not necessarily what they appeared.  Ibanescu stood in the centre of three men and one woman who had congregated to the centre of the room. He was wearing a white suit and holding a comically large gun.  To Tim he looked like a Black Mask wannabe.  Further up the hall, closer to Tim, was Crystal.  She seemed awake, albeit exhausted, but also seemed to be in pain, emotional and physical.  Knowing she’d been sat on the cold floor for hours by this point, hands bound uncomfortably behind her, and denied her pain medication she was dependent on, Tim frowned and gripped the stair rail tighter in sympathy.  She was sat behind Batman, who to Tim looked unconscious rather than dead.  Thankfully.

A pile of five unconscious bodies had been moved to one corner, so Bruce had managed to take out a few before one of them had managed to bonk him hard enough on the cowl to make him plonk to the floor.  Tim breathed a silent thank you to Bruce.  Five was more manageable.

But why hadn’t they killed Bruce?  They must have thought Stephanie had died falling off that bridge, but maybe they were hoping beyond hope that Arthur Brown would show up with the promised money, probably wanted to make a grand spectacle of it all. 

Tim checked the roof of the room, seeing if there was another place he could spring off, but nothing suited.  He huffed to himself, becoming impatient with his delays.  The quicker he moved in, the faster it would be over… one way or another.

Well, no time like the present.

Tim threw a smoke bomb down and followed it quickly by the small bombs that he had accidentally set off nearly twelve hours ago, before he’d left the Batcave.  The bright light, loud noise, fog and heat from the bombs was enough to scatter the men.  Tim jumped down, using the smog as cover from the ensuing gun fire, and began to kick, punch and strike as hard and fluently as he could.  Occasionally, he’d feel the whizz of a bullet shoot by, making him twitch his head instinctively away from the noise, but otherwise no-one managed to land a punch on him.  A few members slid away, out of the smoke and into clearer air, but Tim remained within, out of sight.  He ran backwards and slid over to Crystal and Bruce.  She had managed to curl herself over Bruce like a shield, proving her protective instinct was stronger than her self-preservation.  Maybe that was where Stephanie picked hers up from. 

Ibanescu called for people to gather round him, his voice nasal and high pitched with fright, and wait for the smoke to clear.

Tim moved towards Bruce to cut through the binding that held his wrists and legs together, Crystal very reluctantly moved back once she realised what Tim was doing.  Once the material scraps fell the floor, Tim gestured for her to turn.

She did, but also began asking him, “You’re with him?”

“I am.”  With her wrists free, Crystal brought them around to her front, grimacing at the red and damaged skin round her wrists, dried blood and dirty wounds.  A sudden thought came to her, and she whirled around and grabbed Tim’s shoulder.  Tim groaned at how fiercely she held on, but he did not let go of Batman’s cowl in his attempts to awaken him.

“My daughter –”

“She’s outside in the batmobile.  She’s been shot a couple of times but she’s fine.  I promise she’s safe and she’s helping me right now.  Sit tight until it’s over.  I don’t want anymore of you getting caught in the crossfire.”

“She’s alive?”

“She –”

A large explosion ripped a gaping hole in the building.  Crystal shrieked whilst Tim floundered at the unexpected interruption.  Bruce groaned with the injection Tim had given him waking him out of his temporary slumber.

“Batman, hurry up, wake up…”  Tim shook Bruce incessantly.  Bruce grunted again, then went to raise himself off the floor.

Somebody grabbed Tim from behind and pulled him up and away from Crystal, who shrieked in alarm.  Tim saw that there were two members still standing after his attack and the imploding wall, plus Ibanescu himself, and the man holding Tim.  Ibanescu had his gun aimed at the pair, and in a moment of utter panic, he fired the gun, ideally aiming for Tim’s head.  The man who held Tim seemed to realise what was going to happen to him and cried out, only for it to be cut off sharply and violently.

Tim froze, limbs still splayed and uncoordinated from being picked up off the floor.

No... way.

The shell went wide and missed Tim, who was too short for the shot, and Tim was suddenly faced with carrying a very heavy corpse on his back.  Screeching and generally freaking out, he flipped the body over, thrusting it upwards to rest on one of the numerous hanging platforms used for moving cargo.  Tim hadn’t intended to fling it across the room, but his adrenaline and flip had given the body enough momentum to reach a nice height.  The upper torso hung off the platform, dripping onto the floor below.

"Oh.  Oh crap."

Tim felt chunks of bone and tissue slide of his back and refused to look at the corpse.  He turned around to glare the gangster.  The two remaining members stared at the body, then to Tim, then to the back of Ibanescu.  Looking briefly at each other, the man and woman decided the batmobile was an easier target, and probably safer from stray shells, and ran out to beat their way in. 

“Stephanie!”  Tim cried out, and went to follow, but Ibanescu raised his gun, and Tim froze.  He wouldn’t miss again.

“Enough!”  The gangster shouted.  Crystal flinched and was unable to stop staring towards the ceiling at the dead man.  She began crying.  Tim moved back to shield her and a still struggling Batman.  He let Ibanescu rant.  “Arthur swindled me out of such a sum I couldn’t get the last import… and he’s such a coward he wouldn’t show up to save his wife or avenge his daughter!  Fuck it, fuck him, and fuck you and the Bat… this whole night has been spoiled!”

It seemed to Tim that Ibanescu had a higher opinion of Arthur Brown than was probably warranted.  He seemed deeply shocked and disappointed (and angry) that the man had not showed up for the sake of his family.  Maybe Arthur was smarter (and crueller) than anyone gave him credit for. Tim glanced around the room, trying to find a way to get the gun out of the other man’s grip.

A tasered mobster was thrown back into the warehouse.  Tim’s mouth dropped open in pleasant surprise.  Stephanie had managed to activate the defence system.  When Ibanescu was distracted by the collapsed figure, a batarang whizzed over Tim’s shoulder and buried itself into Ibansecu’s shoulder.  Bruce had recovered enough to disarm the threat to Tim.  Ibanescu cried out, arm dropping the gun and swinging uselessly.  It allowed Tim to rush forward and body slam the man, knocking him to the floor and out cold.

There was a moment of silence, then Tim whooped.  “I did it!”

A familiar grunt behind him brought the jubilation to a cold close.  Crystal stumbled to her feet, muttering about Stephanie.  Slowing his breathing down, Tim rolled over the unconscious man and went to bind him up.  He heard the crinkle of Batman’s cape as Bruce rose up, but Tim determinedly ignored him, childishly delaying the inevitable heartbreak. 

Tim had just managed to handcuff Ibanescu when Crystal went to run out of the warehouse. 

“Wait!” Tim yelled, but he could only watch at the batmobile jerked amateurly into the building, knocking Crystal back onto the floor.  “Ah!  No, Mrs Brown!”  Tim stumbled up, tripping over the man on the floor, and returned to pinning the body down.

Crystal waved a reassuring hand upwards.  “Okay… I’m okay.  Woo!”  She huffed, rolling around on the floor, gaining momentum to push herself back up.

Tim could only stare at the strange older woman, realising more and more where Stephanie got her ability to seemingly brush off things that would cripple another.  Tim got the feeling that Crystal Brown was stronger than Stephanie gave her mother credit for, but then again, he was only judging from ten minutes of interaction.  The potential was there, maybe, but perhaps it had been beaten down after decades of a toxic husband.  Tim felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Batman kneeling down next to him, moving to Tim’s level.

“You can get off him now, I’ll take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, you’ve done enough.”

His tone, as always, was impossible to decipher.  Tim felt drops of blood fall on the floor off his hair and clothes, and decided Bruce meant it derisively.  Someone had died because of him.  He slid off an unconscious Ibanescu, despondent. 

“Wait…”  He said, as Bruce went to move all the unconscious people into one easy to arrest pile.  Bruce paused expectantly.  “What happened?  You’ve beaten more guys than this.  They didn’t have a clue what they were doing?  None of them did…”

Batman looked over to the knocked over mother and sighed.  “Crystal was... not the most well behaved hostage.”

It wasn’t much of an excuse, but having hung around her daughter for ten hours, Tim nodded in solid empathy.

Stephanie meanwhile has started to rock in horror in her seat, and surveyed the damage she’d caused by blowing open a hole in as structurally unsound building.  No-one was left standing, aside from Tim, who was crouched over a suited man next to a conscious Batman. 

Her mother thrust a hand on the hood of the batmobile, and wailed a cry as she pulled herself upwards, seemingly aware that her daughter was inside it, and Stephanie burst into tears.  Unbuckling in a rush, she ignored the restricting pain of her stomach, and kicked the door open.  She fell out of the car, and pulled herself off the cold concrete floor.

“Mom!  Mom!”  She cried out, clinging to bonnet and waving Crystal over.

Crystal, who looked none the worse for wear, aside from a bruised neck and wrists and a tear stained face, rushed over, careening into her daughter, disturbing the sore leg and gut.  Despite the pain, Stephanie’s tears were ones of a relief so sharp it did not compare to the pain of being shot.  Her mom was safe.

“They told me you were shot and fell!”

“No that definitely happened.  I’m alive though.  Somehow.”  Stephanie voice was watery and fragile, but she still managed to joke to her mother, who pressed aggressive kisses to her face.

She looked over her mom’s shoulder, watching Batman and Tim converse.  She could not see either of the men’s faces.  She couldn’t tell how the fight had gone, aside from the fact that they had won.  She couldn’t see if Batman was well, if Tim was unharmed, or if the mood was light or angry and somber. 

Raising her eyes, she saw a body lying further up on a hanging platform.  Its head was missing.

Stephanie froze in her mother’s arms.  Was that where the screech had come from?

“Mom…who’s body is that?”

“Oh.”  Her mother began crying hysterically.  “Oh God.  I’m going to need therapy.  Some gangster your father had gotten in trouble with… Arthur never showed.  He never…”

Police sirens sounded off in the distance, and Tim approached the couple.  Stephanie blinked at the dark blood running down his skin.

“You’re hurt?!”  She moved from her mother and cradled Tim’s cheek, to which he smiled bashfully and shook his head.  He reached up and took her hand in his, squeezing tight.

“No… not mine.  Don’t worry, not a scratch on me… Better than him I guess…”  His smiled turned sad and the sirens grew louder. 

“Did you…?”

Even the possibility of Tim killing someone was enough to make his flush red.  “No!  No.  God no.  Ibanescu was aiming for me but missed…”

“Oh.  Okay… poor guy.”

Crystal rolled her eyes at Stephanie’s simple but well meaning sentiment and clung to her daughter’s side, unwilling to let go.  Tim heard Bruce moving towards the car, and knew the night was over.

“We have to… we have to go now.”

Stephanie’s blinked, realising what this meant, and frantically turned to her mother.  “Mom, mommy, this is the boy who saved me right at the start near the pharmacy, kept me safe all night.”  Stephanie smiled, eyes wet, feeling very fragile and desperate for her mother to understand what Tim had done for her.  She spoke quickly and breathlessly, afraid that Tim would leave before she could explain it all.

Crystal looked at Tim suspiciously and said nothing.  Taking a step away, Tim spoke, practically reading Crystal’s thoughts.

“Not true, your bullet wounds and fall off the bridge say otherwise.”

Stephanie frowned and tugged on Tim’s hand urgently, not wanting him to go.  “Remember your promise okay?”

He laughed very gently.  “Yup, yup.”

“The police will take it from here.”  Said Batman, storming up to the trio.  He loomed over the three of them, a solid foot taller than Crystal, and several inches more than Stephanie and Tim.  He seemed okay but did not offer any explanation for what had happened on the initial rescue attempt.  Stephanie supposed she would have to hear it from her mother.  He offered as parting words, “I’m sorry this happened to you both.” 

His words were kind, but his tone was not, and Stephanie suddenly felt like defending Tim.

“I asked him to stay with me.  I couldn’t have gotten through tonight without him.”

“…I know.”

“I’m okay because of him.”

Batman said nothing and went to leave.  Stephanie blurted out, “And you?  Are you okay?”

Despite the cowl covering most of his face, Stephanie recognized the look of mortification when she saw it.  He wasn’t expecting that question, and refused to answer her.  Maybe he took it as her demeaning him, when in fact she was being genuine.

Huh.  Tim’s behaviour was rubbing off on her.

And then he left, entering the car.  The other door was opened, a clear signal for Tim to enter as well.  Tim did as he bid and after one last tight squeeze, and a love sick smile, let go of Stephanie’s hand.  She returned to her mother’s embrace and watched as the car drove away more smoothly than her or Tim’s attempts to control the vehicle.  She stepped out of the building, wanting to watch him go, through the hole she had punched through.  Only as she reached the alley she was met by four cars and two vans pulling up.  Several armed police came out, guns already held upwards.

Instinctively, both Stephanie and Crystal raised their arms.  They had dealt with the police enough times in their lifetime to know what to expect. 

“It’s safe!” Crystal yelled across the way, “They’re all subdued… though one…”

They were gestured to enter the squad car, ready to be driven back to the police station. 

Stephanie sat down with a gasp, her gut aching something awful.  She leaned down and grasped her thigh, massaging the muscle reassuringly.  Crystal nervously put on her seatbelt and began rubbing her wrists, smearing drying blood on her hands and forearms.  She seemed more focused than Stephanie, and managed to talk to the police officers without sounding like a hysterical woman. It must have been the ER nurse in her kicking in.

Looking out the window as they began to be driven away, Stephanie could see the sun was beginning to rise.  She was exhausted, seriously injured and feeling remarkably lost.  Her mother breathed a final sigh of relief at finally being safe.  They probably weren’t going to given much chance to rest, and would have to recount what had transpired in the past twelve hours.

As they drove through Gotham, Crystal leaned over to her daughter’s side, resting her head on Stephanie’s shoulder.  Reaching up, Stephanie buried her fingers in her mother’s hair, giving her the comfort she needed after a night of horror.

“Dad never showed.”  Stephanie finally spoke.

“No.  The money he stole… I don’t know what he was thinking.  Stealing from a human trafficker, like two wrongs make a right?  Or was he not thinking at all?  He never came.  But he knew.  They rang him.  I heard their conversation…”

“Maybe he knew if he showed up, we wouldn’t have made it.”

“Hoping for Batman to save us first?”

“And he did.”

“Hmph.  That boy…”

Stephanie sighed happily.  “You’d like him.”

“Does he have a name?”

Stephanie continued to stare at the daybreak, trusting Tim to keep his promise.  “Robin.  I hope.”