#what the hell is Tim Chav doing here then you ask

[nerajaana]

Day 2: Book moments.

[lfthinkerwrites]

Damian ex Machina

Title: Tales from Gotham Academy: Field Trip

Rating: T

Summary: The Dork Squad ponders their next steps, while Damian lends assistance to Tim’s plot

AO3 link

Meanwhile, back at Mt. Olympus Theme Park

As the two remaining members of the Dork Squad searched the trees and bushes by the park's front entrance for their missing friend, Jervis continued to wail. "Oh, March Hare! Poor March Hare! Struck down in the prime of his life!"

"The 'prime of his life'?" Edward asked sarcastically. "Jervis, the man's 45, at least 50 pounds underweight, drinks too much and smokes like a chimney when he's not at work! The fact that he's made it this long is a minor miracle!"

Jervis sniffled. "He had so much life left to live, Dormouse!"

Edward rolled his eyes and continued to look up in the trees for any sign of life. "Jonathan! If you're still with us, give us something to work with!"

"I'm over here!"

Edward and Jervis turned their heads out of the sound of Jonathan's voice. Sure enough, dangling from a tree about twenty feet in front of them, was Jonathan Crane, slightly bruised, but mostly just pissed. The cardboard wings still attached to his arms were lodged in tree branches, keeping him hanging about three feet off the ground. With a wild shriek of joy, Jervis ran to him. "Oh, frabjous day! Calloo! Callay! March Hare lives!"

"In a manner of speakin'!" Jonathan grumbled.

Edward walked up to him, failing to hide his amusement at Jonathan's predicament. "That's quite a nest you have there, Professor Crane."

Jonathan glared at him. "Edward you smug son of a bitch, if you don't help me get down from here, I will make you rue the day you were born!"

"Rude!" Edward shouted. He looked up and down at Jonathan, then rubbed his chin. "Well, the answer to this predicament is simple. Jon, slide out of the wings."

"And fall?"

"Jervis and I will catch you, won't we Jervis?"

Jervis nodded. "Just fall into our arms, March Hare!"

Jonathan huffed, then awkwardly shimmied out of the wings. He fell three feet out of the tree...and two inches away from Edward and Jervis' outstretched arms. "Son of a bitch!" He grunted.

"Oops," Edward said.

Jonathan glared up at him, then pulled himself up to his feet. Jervis was at his side, inspecting him for injuries. "Are you alright, Jonathan? Should we call for an ambulance?"

Jonathan waved Jervis away. "Nothin' wrong with me that a little vengeance won't cure," he growled. "This is the last damn straw. Mockridge is gonna pay for this!"

Edward nodded. "Well, you certainly have more than enough grounds for a lawsuit-"

"I don't want money," Jonathan interrupted. "I want blood."

"I agree," Jervis said enthusiastically. "That chav must suffer for what he's put all of us through, right Dormouse?"

Edward hesitated. "Well, I..."

Jonathan looked at him aghast. "Edward, by all accounts, the man stole credit for your game, wrongfully terminated you, ran the game you created into the ground, was crass to your child's mother and your current girlfriend, serves substandard food and allows dangerous rides, and you're still not goin' to help us take him out!?"

"I made a promise, Jonathan!" Edward shouted. "When I make a promise, I keep my word! I promised Penny I wouldn't start anything with Mockridge, no matter how much I want to!"

Jervis held a finger up. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you promised that you wouldn't start a fight with Mockridge. You never said you wouldn't finish one. I would say that you've been more than sufficiently provoked."

Jonathan nodded in agreement. "I think after everything that's happened, Penelope would understand if you took a swing or two."

"Maybe," Edward said, chewing his bottom lip. "On the other hand, I doubt she'd be happy if I called her from a jail cell. If you two want to get your licks in, that's your affair. In the meantime, let's find Harvey before he takes Ellen to another ride."

"Let's go to the bus first," Jonathan said, walking out of the treeline towards the main plaza. "I need some moonshine to take the edge off."

While Edward and Jervis were searching for Jonathan, Harvey had taken their group of kids to the Amphitheater. Bruce and Neil were there with their groups, and Harvey took a seat next to his friend. The school groups were now watching a dreary performance of Oedipus, and Damian wasn't shy about making his feelings known. "Father, this is dreadful."

"It's better than you kids going on another ride," Bruce said. He was half ready to nod off at the actor's droning. He turned to Harvey. "Crane really went flying?"

"He did," Harvey said. "Duela and a few of the other kids have it all on their phones."

Bruce glowered. "Well, the first thing I'm doing when I get the boys home is calling my lawyer. If Crane wants to speak with him too, I'm more than willing to pay for the consultation."

Harvey snorted. "Careful, Bruce. Rate it's going, all the other teachers and half the kids' parents will want to talk to your lawyer by the end of the day!"

Bruce smiled, then settled back against the bench and continued to watch the, in Damian's words, rather dreadful performance.

Meanwhile, just a few feet away, Tim and Stephanie were huddled with Ellen and Duela. Duela looked back to where her father was sitting with Bruce, then leaned into the group. "It's after 2:30 now. We're leaving the park in two hours. If we're gonna make a break for it, we need to do it now."

Tim looked back towards Bruce. He wasn't paying them any attention, but Damian had caught his eye and was staring back. Tim quickly looked away. "We have to get away from your Dad and Bruce. We need a distraction-"

"I knew it. You are plotting something, Drake!"

Tim and the girls almost jumped out of their seats when Damian snuck into their group. Tim quickly looked up to check that Bruce wasn't listening in. He was in conversation with Harvey about something and not looking in their direction. "Go away, Damian," he hissed. "We're talking about something important."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Should I inform Father?"

Tim deflated. "If we tell you, will you promise not to tell Bruce?"

"No," Damian said bluntly. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to get back at Mockridge for firing my Dad," Ellen said before Tim could.

Damian cocked his head. "You're conspiring against that condescending jackass owner of the park?" He then frowned and turned back to Tim. "Why didn't you say so earlier, Drake?"

It took a moment for Tim to formulate a response. "You actually want to help?"

"Not for you or your friends, and certainly not for Nashton," Damian clarified. "But Mockridge is scum. He deserves to suffer for that horrid food alone." He inclined his head towards Tim. "So what are you intending to do?"

"We're going to sneak off to the park's control room in the fake mountain and broadcast insulting memes about Mockridge so everyone in the park will see them."

"I see. No doubt you need me to be a distraction for Father."

"Pretty much, yeah," Stephanie said.

Damian considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, but you'll owe me, Drake."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Of course, Demon."

Damian frowned, then turned his attention back to his father. Bruce seemed surprised that he was sitting by Tim, but seemed to approve. Then the entire audience's attention was captured by the performance ending and Maxie Zeus stepping onto the stage. "Greetings!" the man boomed, his voice echoing in the amphitheater. "Did you enjoy one of my great tragedies?"

No one in the audience applauded.

Undeterred, Zeus continued. "Excellent! Before we move onto to another play, an offering must be made!"

"He's not asking us for money, is he?" Duela asked. "'Cause I've only got $10 and he ain't gettin' any of it."

"Given the context, I think he means some kind of religious offering," Tim mused.

"A religious offering?" Ellen asked. Just then, a park attendant came onto the stage, dragging behind him a malnourished looking goat decorated in a flower garland. The goat bleated piteously as it struggled against the rope around its neck, and Damian's eyes narrowed. Once the attendant met Zeus in the center of the stage, he handed the rope over and jogged off. Zeus then tied the rope around an altar that was leftover from the performance. He then pulled a knife from his belt. Ellen gulped. "Oh Hell no," she murmured. "He's not gonna kill the goat, is he?"

"This is most satisfactory!" Zeus declared. He held the knife above his head. "Witness the glory of Zeus!"

By this point, the audience members were shouting, fleeing the scene, or in Neil's case, fainting dead away. "Bruce!" Tim shouted. "Do something!"

Bruce was on his feet in an instant. "Stop that right now!" he shouted. "What in God's name do you think you're doing!?"

"God?" Zeus said. "I am Zeus! I am God!"

"Jesus Christ," Harvey muttered. "Where's Crane when you need him?" (At that precise moment? Drinking moonshine out of a paper bag.) He looked towards Duela, who was shielding Ellen's eyes away from the impending gory scene. "Duela, honey, don't look!"

Damian got to his feet. "Consider this your distraction, Drake." Before Tim or anyone else could stop him, he charged onto the stage and headbutted Zeus in the stomach. Zeus fell backward, dropping the knife. Damian turned the goat and untied it. "Go on," he said gently, shoving it towards the edge of the stage. "Get out of here!"

Zeus got back to his feet and glared at Damian. "You dare strike the almighty Zeus!? The king of the Gods!? I shall smite you!"

Damian sniffed. "Tt. You can try, you diseased egomaniac."

Zeus roared in anger and charged towards Damian, only for the boy to punch him in the groin. The goat, evidently grateful to Damian for his assistance, turned around and headbutted Zeus in the stomach. Bruce and Harvey finally made it onto the stage, Bruce grabbing Damian and Harvey putting Zeus into a headlock. "I think this is our cue," Stephanie said to Tim.

Tim nodded. "Right. Let's go!" In the ensuing chaos, Tim, Stephanie, Duela, and Ellen got up from the bench and made their way to the exit. In fifteen seconds, they were gone.