#45: The Return, Pt 7 (HoM / Vasquez / Kilburn)

"Welcome home, Detective."

"Ra's," said Batman, flexing his fingers inside his gloves. It felt good. "You're under arrest."

"You're in no position to give orders, Detective," Ra's said, admiring the glint of the moonlight against the cold steel of his sword. "If anything, you should be begging me not to kill you."

Bruce Wayne smiled. Ra's froze. "Begging?"

"Yes, Detective, begging. Begging me not to slaughter here, on the eve of your triumphant return to this decaying husk of a city. Begging me not to slit your thoats, and the throats of the boys and girls you have running about, preaching your work as if it were some grand mission. Yes, Detective. Begging."

"Here's how I see it, Ra's. You're here. I'm here. Both risen from the grave like Rasputin. But here's the thing. You think yourself immortal. Untouchable. But you're grip is failing. The League of Assassins is crumbling all around you. Sleeper cells compromised, Lazarus Pits expunged mysteriously. Resources being cut off, supplies dwindling. This is your last gasp."

"You really believe that?" Ra's shifted his stance, ready to fight. "I could have had your soldiers murdered in their sleep. I know you Bruce Wayne. I taught you everything you know."

Batman's hand shot ot the ground, and before Ra's could strike, metal clashed, and Bruce Wayne and Ra's Al Ghul were face to face, separated only by their two swords. "I know more than that. I travelled the world when I was first able, and I travelled the world this past year. Your influence and training is a drop in the sea that is my ability," Batman kicked Ra's back, but Al Ghul rolled with it, preparing himself once more for another attack. "I've spent the past months destroying you from the inside out."

"And I you and yours," snarled Ra's, driving forward and parrying sword stroke after sword stroke against his rival. "I've had my men in place for months now, breaking down your last line of defence. torturing the Boy there," he motioned to Dick Grayson, whose expression contorted into one of contempt, "making them suffer in your name. Beautiful."

"Brimstone?" said the former-Robin, "he was nothing. You're going down."

"Painfully," spat Jason Todd, as he climbed back to his feet. "Enjoyably."

"You believe that, don't you?" Ra's back was suddenly had by his League, dozens of men wielding weapons capable of cleaving through flesh like a hot knife through butter. "Then fight me. Fight me, and I'll still win. I made a formidable mistake when I last visited this festering wound upon the world. I sided with madmen. Lunatics. This time I'll do away with the taint, strip the city clean, and you'll simply sit back and watch."

Dick looked to Bruce. "What does he mean?"

"He's going to rectify his previous mistakes," replied Bruce, "bombs."

"Bombs," smiled Ra's, "you're catching on. Across the city. I wonder, Detective, can you stop them all?"

Batman's expression didn't shift. "Yes."



Talia cried out as The Wrath kicked her in the gut, sending her sprawling across the cold stone floor of the Cave. Batwoman leaped back to her feet, and batarangs clashed against sword-metal, The Wrath's unrelenting attack driving her to her knees. Talia looked at the combatants, and then around the Cave-- she needed an edge, she needed to end this, but she didn't know, she couldn't think... what could she do?

Talia's eye was caught by a weapon left on the side, ready to be examined-- Orpheus'?-- and grabbed it, checking if it was loaded, and then levelled it on their attacker. The Wrath's head jerked around and his skull-mask seemed to twist and contort, but Talia had her target-- and she fired the weapon, catching him squarely in the chest and sending him clattering ot the floor.

"Talia," whispered Barbara Gordon, staggering over to the female Al Ghul, "you... you..."

"Saved your life?" gasped Talia, struggling for breath, "You could at least thank me."

"That was the gun is Orpheus', Talia..." said Barbara, as all the while, The Wrath rose from the ground, his cape gathering around him. "It's non-lethal! Look out--!"

Talia brought gun back up but The Wrath barrelled into her with his shoulder, body armour striking her hard and sending her into the back of the display case she'd previously broken into. "--Uuuhnnf!"

Barbara went to defend Al Ghul, but The Wrath grabbed her by the wrist and twisted, her bones screaming, but she kicked up into his face, his mask snapping off and flying into the darkness. The Wrath released his grip and backed off, clutching his face, and holding his curved knife in his spare hand to stop the women from pressing their advantage. Barbara gripped her arm, the pain fading fast as adrenaline continued to rush through her veins, and she could hear his breathing, heavy and laboured, the husky sound of air crawling through lungs plain for all to hear. "Stand down!"

"hhhhhhffffff," whispered The Wrath, turning to face Batwoman, his dagger flitting about in the darkness. "Thhhhhhe wwwwwwwooorrrrrrkkkkk.... neeeevvvverrrrrr..." He reeled his head back, his hood falling off behind him, and Barbara would have screamed as his visage twisted into one of sheer rage and fury, but before he could strike, before he could take that one last step before driving the blade through her chest--

"No more," said a voice.

Batwoman recognised it instantly, but The Wrath had no chance at all to think about it. An explosion engulfed his head, sending him clattering to the ground, nothing but a gaping crimson void above his shoulders. Alfred Pennyworth wiped his brow, and dropped his blunderbuss to the cave floor, then turned to Barbara and Talia, both of them pulling themselves together after the vicious battle came to an end.

"Ugly business," whispered Alfred.

Batwoman's eyes opened wide as she saw the mess that was now red across the ground, and looked back to Pennyworth. "Alfred... you... you killed... you killed him..."

"I did not see any other option," Alfred said quietly, "Barbara... he was going to kill you. If this life was to take another loved one away from me, I could not live..." He looked at the smoking weapon at his feet, and then to Barbara, red-eyed and shaking his head. "I could not sleep soundly knowing he was out there, lurking in the shadows waiting to strike against us. He knew who we were. He took so much from us... I could not live with myself if he hurt you, or Master Timothy... Richard... we have all lost so much already. I would not sleep soundly... nor... nor will I now, I do not think... I..."

Barbara Gordon saw Alfred Pennyworth, at that moment. She saw hold old he looked. How tired. He'd held his head high, this past year, supporting the weight of the world whilst the rest of them soldiered on, mourning in their own ways, whilst he was silent, stoic, there for them. the lines beneath his eyes dug deep and dark, and his face, usually straight and serious, was sullen. She wanted to reach out to him, and hug him, but instead, he turned, and shook his head.

"I shall get a mop."



"The city will die before morning," said Ra's, as he vanished into the crowd of assassins, "rendered lifeless, ready for nature to reclaim and heal. I won't see you again, Detective."

"What do we do," grunted Jason Todd, eyeing up the ninjas ready to tear him limb from limb.

"We're going to stop Ra's. We're going to the save the city. All before sunrise," replied Bruce, as the three Batmen stood back to back. "I've spent the past year dismantling his operation. I know the materials they use for bombs, and I know they're supplies are low, so I know what they'd use in a situation like this. I also know that the bombs have a specific scent that our suits can track down."

Dick nodded, "I've already started triangulating positions using satellite footage over the city and some Wayne Enterprise ingenuity," he said, "and there are four locations in the city, all with the bomb signature hanging over them."

"Four," repeated Bruce, "three of us, a legion of assassins--"

"I think he said a league," interupted Jason, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"--and Ra's Al Ghul loose in the city. Dick, upload the locations to our suits computers, Jason, you take the closest, Dick, you the furthest-- you're the fastest of us all, and I'll take the other two."

"You up to that?" asked Dick, readying himself for action.

"I live for it," was Bruce's reply. "Now, go--!" The three men surged into the shifting masses of their attackers, and stampeded through them, punches and kicks being thrown as Dick Grayson used their heads as a springboard to head east. Jason kicked a ninja off the roof and glided west, and Bruce fired off a grapnel line over their heads and vanished into the night. The ninjas took a moment, and then separated, splitting off into three groups and following the Batmen.



"This ends tonight," said James Gordon, strapping on his bulletproof vest and talking to his men as he went, "this gang war? Whatever this is? It ends. I want hot spots closed off, I want lock up filled with these bastards. The warden at Blackgate will accept an influx of arrests, and Arkham will take the Jokerz. You know your orders, you have your weapons, and you have your badges, so let's get out there, and shut this city down!"



It felt good. He knew that much. He didn't mind taking orders like this. Nearing the end of his tenure as Robin, he'd clash, bristle at being told what to do like that, but Bruce Wayne was back-- and the city needed them. He looked over his shoulder as the assassins leaped after him, and he knew he had to slow them down. His right eye held a satellite photo of the city, and a red fuzz signalled to him where he needed to go-- he was the fastest of them, he knew where he had to be, and the city was a playground to him since he was a boy. He knew the fastest routes-- and Bruce knew that. The closest bomb was in the Narrows-- Jason's back garden-- the master strategist was back, and he hadn't missed a beat.

He grabbed a smoke bomb from his belt and kept running. He needed a plan. He was going, for a split second, ask himself the question that haunted him for years-- What Would Bruce Do? But then smiled. He put that behind him. He knew what he would do. He had been Batman for a year now. Balanced, ever so delicately, the lives of Nightwing, of a Teen Titan, of a Justice Leaguer, of Batman and of Dick Grayson-- why would he ever have ot ask himself that question again? He grabbed a device from his back, and picked up the pace, landed hard on a building and slammed the creation down on the concrete. He then triggered the smoke bombs and activated the device-- then ran. The ninjas swarmed into the pillar of smoke, and when they neared the device, exploded up into the sky. Another one of Ted Kords great inventions, all upward force and no destruction debris to worry the citizens.

Dick Grayson continued running. They'd save the day. Because they had no other choice.



He died. Been there, done that. Those were the thoughts rushing through Jason's head as he headbutted a ninja that had got in his way, and watched him careen into the alley below soundlessly. But Jason had done it with a whole lot less finesse, obviously. Try being tortured. Try having your heart restarted time and again, and being told there's no escape. Try that, Batman! And the first thing he does when he comes back is start barking orders. So what? Well. Well. The city needed saving. Bombs everywhere. Things needed defusing, ninjas needed their skulls broken, their faces shattered. The city needed a win.

Jason could do that. He'd fight and he'd fight, because that's what he'd been trained to do. Trained by living rough on the streets without a father to look out for him, trained by Bruce Wayne, and then, trained by death, by the fact that when you're dying every day for how long? How long was it, really? Time blurred and meshed together when he was held captive by The Wrath. Months, of course. Years? Could have been. And then, after that, trained by the men and women that trained Bruce Wayne. He was better than Bruce. Harder. Blunter. He had the ability and he had the wanting to save the city.

Jason Todd grabbed a piece of loose pipe and swung it into the chest of one of his attackers, sending them flying back into their arms of their comrades. He'd save the day. Because he just could. And would.



Bruce Wayne landed hard, the cape following him down as he plummeted into the alley, and kicked open the door. He darted inside, and slammed it after him, pushing a discarded refrigerator over it to stem the tide of assassins. The first bomb was in here. He rushed through the shadows, and heard the League of Assassins at the door, slicing at the wood and then at the concrete, cutting holes into this building just to get inside and murder the Batman.

The bomb was in the centre of the room. Bruce approached it slowly, but then fell back on his instincts-- and began to unscrew the metal plating. He ignored the sounds outside, until, the wires exposed and the explosives revealed-- he realised that everything was quiet. He defused the bomb instantly, and removed the explosives expertly. He'd trained with the greatest fighters alive, he knew how to kick a man's spleen out of his body, he knew how to kill twelve men with seven punches, but people tended to forget that it wasn't about fighting-- not all the time. He trained with policemen, detectives, bomb squads, anyone who had knowledge for him, who were willing to share.

Ra's Al Ghul made it about the fight. The war. But it was about fighting crime. That's what this was always about.

"One down," said Ra's, levelling his sword at Bruce's throat. "You won't defuse anymore. Two boys running around, Detective, three bombs."

Batman smiled. "It's come to this then, has it? No dam. Nothing ambiguous about our final battle. We're in the city. We're in my home. You want to wreck this place? Split it down the middle to spite me? Then let's do it." Bruce spiralled backwards, and then pulled a hilt from the back of his utility belt. With the press of a button, a blade retracted, and he cracked his neck. "To the end, Ra's."



The police took to the street, and they fought. A war was running rampant, and they were outnumbered, outgunned, and the gangs of Gun Moll, Flesh-Monger, The Prince of Lies and everyone else caught in the middle knew it. Gordon pushed his men hard. The tide turned, slowly at first. Officers fell in the line of duty. They'd be mourned later, twenty-one gun salutes running through the days after this one, but right now, shots were fired across the city. And then, as the tide turned slowly, change began to come. Slowly became increasingly faster, gang members were shot, arrested, or simply ran. The GCPD thought with a renewed vigour that had held them in good stead time and time again. They didn't know that Batmen were running across the city, fighting to keep the city alive? They didn't know about the Narrows, the East End, they didn't know about the business district or the bomb that waited for them in the basement of the building next to Gotham Central-- but they knew that they had to fight, and so they did, until... until...



The bomb was right in from of him. "Remember," Jason Todd whispered, "remember what he taught you, what you learned... you 're not an idiot...you’re not a failure…" He smacked a ninja in the face, and then threw him out a window, then turned back to the device. "Open up..." he continued, prising a panel off the side, and then side-kicking another ninja in the ribs, sending him through a partition and into another room. "Which wire? Any wire. Could be." He threw the metal panel into an attacker's face, and then threw a batarang into another's shoulder-- "Red wire. Makes sense. Doesn't it?"

Gunfire erupted behind him, and Jason instintively went low as the ninjas fell to the ground with heavy thuds, their lives gone from inside them. The Dark Knight heaved his head to the side, and saw Hush wielding an assault rifle, the barrel smoking. "Do your job, Batman," the villain said slowly. "No one's going to kill you today."

Jason said nothing, but then turned back to the bomb, all the while Hush fired salvo after salvo of hot lead at the attackers swarming out of the shadows, their bodies littering the warehouse floor.

[/b]

"Blue wire," said Dick Grayson, snipping one of the wires away and watching the countdown come to an end. "Easy."

<Dick,> came a voice on the comm-link, and Dick kneeled down to answer.

"What's wrong, J?" In the background, gunfire was apparent to his ears, but it was Jason Todd's voice on the other side "What's going on?"

<Doesn't matter,> Jason Todd cleared his throat, and the sound of fist on flesh rang out in Dick's ear, <Sorry, yeah, what wire are we cutting?>



Ra's Al Ghul faced Batman on the roof of a building in Gotham, their swords clashing in the darkness of the night. "Do you know where we are, Detective?"

"I'm well aware," replied Bruce, as he was pushed back by Ra's.

"Yes. The sight of where the Joker detonated one of the many bombs that nearly levelled the city all that time ago. And the job started then shall be finished tonight. You won't defuse the final bomb. Your disciples are tied up, and we shall all perish in the blazing light of the cleansing fires unleashed!"

"There's no coming back from this," said Batman, headbutting Ra's, "I've extinguished nearly all your Lazarus Pits. Of course there are many you've kept hidden, but every single base of yours I've inflitrated and destroyed, I learned of more. You're running on fumes, Ra's. Give up."

"Never," snapped Ra's, wiping the blood from his nose, "I could always create more. The alchemical formula is stored safely up here," replied the genocidal maniac, tapping his head, "but I think I'd be quite happy dying here, with you, against my grandest enemy."

"You're a coward," Bruce slammed his sword wielding fist into Ra's nose, furthering the damage already done. "You know your loyal Ubus would trawl through the wreckage of the city if you suceeded, drag your body to the nearest Pit, and resurrect you. You're scared to die, Al Ghul, scared to face the great mystery beyond."

"It's no mystery," Ra's kicked Bruce in the ribs, dislodging one, and then punched him in the sternum, his sword centimetres away from the Dark Knight's face, "I've faced death a thousand times, Detective, and it's nothing but a stepping stone to something else. I know how I survived the fall from that dam. I know because I planned it. I have a contingency for every event. For every defeat, there's a victory. For every death, a life. How did you survive, Detective? Because I know from your eyes that you didn't climb into one of my Lazarus Pits, I know that you've not yet experienced that special form of madness..."

"I survived..." started Batman, disarming Ra's, the first rays of dawn starting to come into being, "...because I had to."

"What? Is that all you're going to say? Is that all you have to say in the face of yet another death? Who do you think you are?" Ra's' question was met with a flurry of punches to the chest, sending him coughing to the ground, clutching his stomach, unable to grab his sword. "I asked you a question, Detective? I survived on my intellect, on my ability to outhink anybody. Who do you think you are? Who?"

"I'm Batman," said Bruce, punching Ra's in the face, and then turning him over to face the dawn. "And I win."

Ra's Al Ghul laughed, blood dribbling to the concrete of the roof. "Win? It's sunrise! Your soldiers are dead! The bomb hasn't been defused! No one could get there in time."

"You forget that where there's a Batman, Ra's, there's also..." He looked over to where Gotham Central was on the skyline, and saw the faint outline of a red, yellow and green teenager, his hand held high, "... a Robin. And you're an idiot if you think I won't use everything in my power to stop you. Can't you see? You lose Ra's. You're under arrest. You're going away."

"The League won't stop," spat Ra's, "they don't know how. I'm the Demon's Head, their uncontested ruler. You can't do anything to stop the hell they'll bring down. The ninja at my disposal are but one weapon in my arsenal. We're so alike, Detective, it's so wonderfully twisted. You have your Robin, your Batmen, your soldiers fighting a child's insane war, and I have righteous fury, my League of Assassins. Gotham will fall, one way or another. Be it through chemical warfare, through the magicks my men wield. You can't win this."

"The League answers to someone in your absence," said a female voice, and Batman turned to see that Talia Al Ghul had arrived on the roof, flanked by two Batmen and a Batwoman. "The Daughter of the Demon-- that would be me." Dick watched Talia step forward-- mere hours ago she'd been a wreck, moving from manic to brusque within seconds, the damage done by her near-murder at the hands of the Joker plain for all to see, but now, confronting her father, as the morning's light began to appear...

"T-Talia?" mumbled Ra's, "you wouldn't--"

"--The mission of the League was never to destroy Gotham, father," interrupted Talia, kneeling beside him, "it was always to protect the Earth. You have seen over dozens of lifetimes the danger man brings to the world, and you sought to save it. I love you, father. I love you with all my heart, but the betrayal of a man you would call your son drove you to depths I never knew it possible for you to reach. Gotham is not your enemy. Bruce is not your enemy. You need to remember that. And if it takes you being... put away for any number of years to realise that, then it is something that needs to come to pass. Besides father, we both know that you can survive any prison they put you in, and conquer it within, what, a year?"

"Know that if you do this to me, Talia, if you do not take my sword right now and drive it through the heart of our dear Detective... you'll be no daughter of mine."

"But I'm not your daughter, am I, Ra's Al Ghul? I'm the daughter of the Demon's Head." Talia smiled morosely, and then turned to Bruce. "Put him away. For however long you can. But Detective, remember... it won't be for long. My father has a tendency to escape, does he not? A trait you both share. Admirable, really."

"Don't compare me to him," replied Bruce.

"I'll do what I wish, Detective--" snapped Talia, "because I'm the one who holds the fate of your city in my hands. Hmm. You have no idea of what you've done today. Or what comes tomorrow, do you?"

Bruce said nothing to Talia. After a long silence, he turned to Dick, and the former-Robin nodded.

"Gotham is off limits to your League, Talia. The people here... they don't deserve to go through anymore of the chaos that your father's madness has unleashed. Can you promise me that?"

"You have my word, Detective... to the best of my ability."

"And that will have to do," said Bruce. He turned to Dick and Barbara, and then down to Ra's. "He's under arrest. Robin's at Gotham Central. Your move, Batman."

Dick said nothing, but smiled none the less. Bruce knelt down beside Ra's and sedated the villain, and then Grayson heaved Al Ghul over his shoulder. "We'll talk at the Cave?"

"Yes," said Bruce. "I think we have to, don't we?"

Grayson, Gordon and Al Ghul vanished over the side of the building, and when Bruce went to speak to Talia, she stepped forward and pressed her body against his, kissing him. She moved back seconds later, and put her fingers to her lips. "Hmm. Brings back memories."

Behind her, the League of Shadow's ninjas began to appear, and Jason growled as they approached. "Where are you going now, Talia?"

"Home." Talia and the assassins vanished on the other side of the building, leaving Jason and Bruce alone.

"I recognise the costume," said Bruce slowly, "we've come a long way, haven't we?"

"Looks like," replied Jason. "What now?"

"That's up to you, Jason," said Bruce. "It's never been up to me, has it?"



Batman and Batwoman landed on the roof of Gotham Central, and were met by Robin, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Did we just save the city? Again?"

"Indeed we did, chum," said Batman, turning to Batwoman. "We make a habit of it, after all."

Commissioner Gordon burst onto the rooftop, and looked at the trio of heroes assembled, as well as the villain now dumped on the ground. "Is that...?"

Batman nodded. "Yes. Ra's Al Ghul, ready for processing for the countless murders he committed, as well as the acts of terrorism he's guilty of across the world as well as in Gotham."

"Is that it then? Is that the end of all this?" asked Gordon.

"Yes," said Dick, "and the gangs?"

"We've shut down most of the skirmishes, they've retreated to wherever the bastards go to at the end of the day. It's been a long night. It's only the beginning though, isn't it? We've got four new gangs on the streets, and there's Black Mask as well, isn't there? We've got False-Facers in custody, but they're not his, apparently anymore. What happened to Roman Sionis? And there's the Three Families. They always come back."

"We take every victory as it comes," said Batwoman. "And I'm sure the next year is going to be a long and arduous one, but we'll win. Because at the end of the day we always do."

"Heh," said Gordon, as officers picked up Ra's and headed back downstairs. "Right."



Dick Grayson peeled the costume off his back, and laid it down on the side. The cowl looked strange now. He'd made it his own, after all, and was this the last time he'd have to wear it? He laughed. He didn't care. Either way, he was ready. He'd learned so much the past year, he had so many ideas to incorporate into his own identity of Nightwing. But first, a long shower would be needed, and then... decisions would have to be made. Weird.

Bruce Wayne had returned.

Dick walked slowly out of the changing room, pulling his shirt over his bandaged chests. His body was a criss-cross of dressed wounds, and every movement reminded him of the night that had gone by. He wouldn't forget it for a long time. For reasons other than the wounds he'd gained.

Bruce Wayne was hugging Alfred Pennyworth. It was strange to see Alfred smile. Really smile, not the forced expression that he'd had on his face for the past year to hold the rest of them together. He was always so strong, so solid, it was hard to see him finally relax and let that weight off his shoulders. Tim Drake was standing away from them, talking quietly to Barbara, and Jason was nowhere to be seen. Strange. After all this, where was Bruce's first partner? A question waiting to be answered at a later date.

He cleared his throat, and stepped forward. "Right," he said, as he placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder. "How we going to explain all this? How are we going to explain how Bruce Wayne is alive, when we all killed him so damn efficiently?"