Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Duke, get down! They’ll see you!”

“That almost sounds like fear in your voice, Izzy!” Duke called down from his perch on the iron wrought fence, keeping his voice just shy of a shout as he looked over the expanse of Robinson Park.

The shadow stands below him, beckoning, waiting. It is not patient, Duke has learned, never at ease, never at rest, shadow woven of deep purple so dark it is almost black.

“These aren’t the freaking Jokerz, Duke!” Izzy said, hand tight on her wrench borrowed from Dax. “They’ll incinerate you before you get half a mile.”

As ever, the shadow not-quite shaped like a person has no voice, though his mouth moves and his eyes burn for Duke to understand, to follow.

Duke does not understand, but he has followed the shadow before, through crumbling buildings and abandoned sidewalks overgrown with weeds, even edging close to Jokerz territory — to be held up, as always, at the same iron fence.

“You know I can’t go there,” Duke had said the first time. “There’s nothing left except what we build or scavenge ourselves. It’s too dangerous and people are counting on me.”

And yet, here he was. Straddling an iron fence, getting ready to break into alien enemy territory at the whims of a living column of shadow. Izzy shouted for him to get down before they saw him, but the shade’s urgent beckoning, the burning curiosity in his chest spurred him on.

And then the shrill war cry had lifted around them, a terrifying chorus of bloodlust. Izzy cursed.

The first beam of light nearly microwaves Duke’s brains inside his head, narrowly missing him and blasting into a nearby tree. Duke keeps his balance, wavers for a moment, torn, as the thing he can see that Izzy can’t flickers in the ashy light overhead.

“Duke! It’s time to go!” Izzy cried, and Duke leapt down to meet her.

“We can’t lead them back to the Nest,” she said as they ran through the half-concrete jungle, screeches and alien clicks following them.

Inside a crumbling building they went, then back out a caved wall in the back, both knowing the veins of Gotham’s alleys as well as they knew their own names.

They did not, could not stop as they moved through decaying buildings, along alleys shaded with crumbling brick and concrete. Stopping was death. Too fast, too quiet, even to speak though Izzy’s eyes burned with furious questions.

The first of them spilled out when they caught their first breaths, curled under a rusted train, waiting for the searching light to move away from the other side.

“Why would you antagonize them like that?” Izzy asked, tense and cramped in a nook as the growling whine of a hovership flew low by them. “You know how they react to intruders.”

“They’ve been pushing out of the East End anyway,” Duke said, turning his face to match hers. “They’ve been scouting out the other parts of Gotham. I’ll be surprised if they don’t move on us before they move on Robbinsville.”

“Then why take the risk? They’re counting on us! What are you even trying to do?” she hissed.

“I thought I could make it,” he said, “I just — I need to get in there, Izzy.”

“Oh, god, not this again,” she said. “Because some shadow thing keeps showing up.”

“It means something, Izzy!” he said. “I’ve been seeing him since- since everything fell apart! How can it not mean something?”

“Sometimes things don’t mean anything,” she said, as the whine underlaying their voices faded, taking its searching gaze elsewhere. “Sometimes they just happen. You need to deal with this, Duke,” she said, reaching over and covering his hand with her own. “You should talk to Doctor Kinsolving.”

This one time, he wanted to believe her. He wasn’t sure he could.

“And your headaches have been getting worse?” Dr. Kinsolving asked with a frown as Duke rubbed at his temple in vain. “Around light?”

“Kinda.” Duke paused. “I mean — it’s not like bright light bothers it.”

Dr. Kinsolving raised a brow, watching him. Duke spluttered under the weight of feelings he didn’t want to name. He missed his mother.

“It’s more like a background pain,” he said at last, and Doctor Kinsolving nodded, as if expecting this. Duke wanted to sink into his seat, even as candle light jumped around them.

“Well. To be safe, you should get some sunglasses,” she said, “I’ll write you a ticket for some painkillers. I want you to take them when it bothers you.”

“You really don’t need to do that, Dr. Kinsolving,” he began, but her gaze lifted.

For the first time, there was a hint of sharpness in it. “Are you in pain?” she asked. Duke’s mouth closed, and he nodded.

“Then I don’t want you playing hero,” she said. “God knows you do enough of that already.”

“Someone has to,” Duke said, and a tight ball he had buried so deep in his chest he’d forgotten it was there cracked. “Batman and Robin are gone. Freaking Superman and Wonder Woman disintegrated on live tv, and these new people — the Avengers or whoever — they’re the reason we’re in this mess. They haven’t cleaned up their shit either. Where are they when this world’s falling apart? There’s no one else left.”

“I know,” Dr. Kinsolving said, and her dark eyes filled with tears. “Duke, you’re not wrong, but- you don’t have to do this alone either.”

“I’m not alone,” he said, “I know that.”

Her dark hand settled onto his shoulder. The pain eased. “Do you?” she asked, pressing the slip of paper into his hand. “Please take care of yourself, Duke,” she said softly.

He closed his hand around the slip, and nodded, wordless.

As he headed out, her voice lifted again, cautious. “One more thing—”

Duke turned in the doorway, in time to catch her fingers rubbing at her temple. “What do you see?” she asked him, their eyes meeting.

“I don’t know,” he answered, truthfully. “But I’ll find out.”

“I know it sounds crazy,” he said. “Hell. Maybe I am crazy, but- you dealt with stuff like this all the time in the Detective Club, right?”

“What we dealt with in the Detective Club,” Olive said after a moment, her voice slow and pained, “wasn’t- anything like this. If I hadn’t seen some of it myself, I wouldn’t believe it. I’m sorry, I’m not the one you want to ask. “Pomeline’s the one you want,” she said, “Or- maybe Maps-”

“I know. I’m sorry Olive,” Duke said, “But there’s no one else but you and Kyle, right?”

Olive nodded, her head hung so low Duke couldn’t see her eyes. “Pomeline- she had this book,” Olive said, her voice ironed flat, the only wrinkle the seam giving it structure. “A book of shadows or some nonsense. It could still be in her room.”

“No, we’re pretty filled up,” Duke said after a moment, “I’d have to ask Dana, but most of the dorm rooms here are repurposed by now. It might have got tossed.”

“Then I’d ask Kyle,” she said, looking up. “He might have grabbed it. He can’t bear to throw anything out. Or—no.” She lowered her head again. “Sorry. I’m not much help.”

“No, this is great,” he said. “Olive. Thanks.”

“What do you think you’ll find?” she asked, “when you finally get where it wants you to go?”

For the first time, they made eye contact and as always, he rooted to the spot by the fire burning, burning in her eyes, by heavy shadows dimming on her face that did not flicker in time to the candle light.

“I guess I’ll have to see,” he said, “when I get there.”

“I don’t have time for you tonight,” Duke said, clipping Dax’s new grapnel to his hip, a helmet painted and seated on his head, and a familiar dark purple shade dancing in the corner of his vision. “We have a distress call in the Narrows. Any intel we can get—”

It moved again, urgent, almost desperate, and Duke realized tonight was different.

It was not beckoning him. It was urging him to hurry.

East End Canvas

“All’s I’m saying, this is sketchy,” Andre said as the rain poured down around them. “Three weeks and we don’t hear shit from the East End. It was practically ground zero for the Gotham leg of the invasion, it’s right on the edge of their territory- and now, suddenly, there’s a distress call? I call bullshit.”

“Bullshit or not,” Duke said, aware of the dark shadow at his elbow, “Robins go where they’re needed.”

“Yeah? How well’d that work out for the real Robin?” Andre demanded. “C’mon Duke, we all saw the footage. Kid’s freaking dead, and if he’s not he sure wishes he were. Bet you he wasn’t even old enough to drive.”

“Shut up!” Izzy’s voice crackled as she hissed the command over the radio.

With a last glare, Duke and Andre settled back into position, looking out over the rain-soaked roofs as a silver hovercraft lazily floated by.

Then it froze in mid air.

“What’s it doing?” Dax asked, his voice crackling over comms. “They never stop their patrol routes!

“Don’t know,” Duke said, squinting. “But I say we go, now. It’s in a good position.”

“It’s going to start moving again any second -”

“Which is why we have to go now. Move!” Duke said, and surged forward, the shadow all but clinging to his heels.

And then it changed direction. It didn’t turn, or spin, or warn at all. It simply began to move in almost the exact opposite direction, twin pinpricks of green light powering up on its nacelles by the engine.

“Izzy! Dax! Get down!” Duke whispered into the radio, a low rumble echoing around them, his heart pounding. “It’s on your nine o’clock!”

“We’re covered, Duke,” Dax replied. “Shit. This isn’t what- what’s going on with this one?”

“We’re getting reports of other saucers doing the same thing,” Dre said. “Seems like they’re converging on a disturbance at the corner of Finger and 113th.”

Duke saw it a fraction before the others did. A beam of ruby light splitting the atmosphere like a thunderclap.

“What was that?” Izzy asked. “Was that-”

“-Superman?” Dax asked, talking over her.

“Not freaking Superman,” Duke said, his voice shaky despite himself. “The shape was wrong. And Supes doesn’t have the white core inside.”

“What even are you-” Andre began.

“It doesn’t matter. We have to expedite this,” Dax said. “Get moving!”

The radio crackled again, and Dax swore as he fiddled with the knobs.

“-in, Wingfoot,” a worn, harried voice said over the line, on the verge of dissolving to static. “Lay low. Let Venom-”

“Venom, too? Aw, screw this,” Andre said, “Duke. Last thing we need is drugs mixed in with this. Seriously, this is a waste-”

Then the low rumble broke into a roar. On one of the rooftops, a dark blob moved with inhuman speed and grace, leaping off the edge to catch itself onto one of the saucers. On the rooftop behind him, a woman in a black suit with a mane of white hair sent a small gesture at one of the transports flying overhead, and as she did a column of smoke began lifting from the back.

“Shit, is that- Clayface? Or Red Hood’s freak?”

“Can’t be Wreckage,” Dax said, “Wreckage doesn’t move like that. And it’s the wrong color for Clayface.”

“Then what- who’s that behind him? That can’t be Calamity?”

“Does it matter?” Izzy asked, and Duke snapped himself away from the burning need to know.

“She’s right. These are new players. We need to keep moving. Dax, you triangulate the signal yet?”

“The old Monarch Theatre. Be there in three,” Dax said.

“Don’t move in,” Duke observed. “Get close, but stay hidden.”

“You think that’s going to matter?” Andre demanded.

“I don’t think we want to tip our hand,” Duke said steadily, “Smaller groups are stealthier.”

Whispered conversation, before Andre huffed into the radio. “Fine. Over.”

“Come on,” Izzy said, putting on a burst of speed. Duke was only a moment behind her as they shimmied under a rusting truck. “Almost there.”

The shadow appeared on the edge of Duke’s vision, and he suppressed a groan. “Really? Right now?” he asked.

“What?” Izzy asked, looking back.

“Nothing!” Duke said, pressing on, even as the shadow twisted, almost frantically- nothing like its usual slow, deliberate movement. “Nothing.”

The shadow waved them desperately. Duke paused, and shot it a glare. “You sure about this>”

In answer the shadow bobbed.

“Izzy, stop,” he ordered, and she did, of only to shoot him and incredulous look. “What?”

“Just- hold up a sec,” he said, catching up to her.

Then he saw the flood of light cut across the alley, right where they would have just been climbing from under the truck.

Izzy sucked in a breath. Duke said nothing, his chest pounding, until the light flickered away and they scrambled forward. The shadow wavered, and Duke have it as suspicious look as its outline flared, then crumbled to mist.

Chapter Text

It turned out there were three people waiting for them huddled in the decaying overhang of the Monarch Theatre.

The first was a broad-shouldered young man crouched by the edge of the overhang. His dark eyes searched the shadows, careful but calm, alert but restrained, as he cradled a rifle at the ready. The second was a slim young man leaned against the cracked brick walls, his breath slipping out in staccato bursts. A scarlet stained bandage wrapped around his knee, and another around his eyes.

“Just- hurry it up, Hank,” the human leaning against the wall gasped. “We’re burning daylight."

“You cannot rush this, Scott,” the blue-furred beast - Hank?- replied, rummaging through, the bag a bit more frantically “it is important to follow the proper procedures when engaging in any sort of medicinal mayhem, particularly with your concussion.”

“We’re burning daylight,” the injured man, repeated with the desperate, floaty tone of someone with a concussion. Hank cast a look over to the man on watch.

“Wyatt, do you have any supplies in your pack?”

“I do not have my pack,” Wyatt said, “we lost it when we crossed the river.”

“Yes, I remember now,” Hank said, turning back to the duffel. “I’m afraid we are low.”

“Just splint me up, “ the injured man gasped, “I can keep going. It’s just-”

“You cannot, Scott.”

“We have to!” he insisted, trying to pull himself to his feet, even as he leaned heavily against the wall.

“I think they’re good,” Duke murmured as Hank removed a sopping roll of gauze from the duffel bag, eying it critically before he went back to rummaging in his bag. Izzy glanced back, unconvinced.

The breeze kicked up, and Hank stiffened. His eyes flicked up, and his eyes scanned the rooftops.

Izzy swore.

“Wyatt,” Hank said calmly, still moving through the duffle, “I believe we have company on the roof.”

Wyatt stood, the gun at the ready, as his eyes darted along the rooftops again. “I see nothing.”

“Nor do I,” Hank said, “But I can smell them. They smell human, but after Bludhaven-”

“Wait,” Duke said, and Izzy hissed at him, but he had already spoken up, raising his voice as high as he dared in the urban scape. “We’re responding to the distress call. We aren’t your enemies.”

Wyatt had turned his attention towards them now, but Hank kept digging through the bag. “Our friend is badly injured,” he said, “We do not wish to cause trouble. We are simply passing through.”

“I’m standing up, ok?” Duke called, and Wyatt nodded slowly. He hadn’t raised the gun, Duke noted, but something about the way he held it told him that Wyatt didn’t need to raise it. He wielded it with the smooth ease of familiar experience.

Duke stood, and he and Wyatt looked each other over. “Izzy, it’s ok,” Duke said after a moment, and with a careful huff she stood next to him.

Wyatt glanced over at Hank. Hank gave a small nod, then Wyatt relaxed his grip on the weapon, but did not release it. He was not worried about them, Duke realized as his vision split and showed Wyatt looking to the side, he was worried about- something else- in a wireframe of gold light even as Wyatt kept his eyes on them.

Duke blinked and shook his head as Wyatt spoke.

“We do not wish to impose,” Wyatt said, “we know supplies are limited. But he needs medical attention and we lost most of our supplies crossing the Gotham River.”

“Can we come down?” Duke asked, and Wyatt nodded.

Duke and Izzy climbed down, and Wyatt gave them a quick nod. Now that they were at ground level, Duke realized just how tall and broad Wyatt was in comparison to him. He stood well over his father, or Darryl - taller and broader than even Batman, he was sure. “Jeez, what do they feed you?” Duke breathed despite himself, tipping his head up and back. Wyatt towered over him by nearly a foot, with shoulders broad enough to carry the sky.

“Just dried rations these days,” Wyatt said lightly, even as a flash of pain crossed his face. “My name is Wyatt,” he continued, “Our injured man is Scott and our navigator is Hank. We have two more people currently running distraction, though I am unsure how long they can hold out.”

“Navigator. Right,” Izzy said.

“Please do not be put off by my aberrational appearance,” Hank said, with a little bow of his head, “I am but a man of science. I mean you no harm.”

“Why are you here in Gotham, anyway?” Izzy asked.

Wyatt and Hank shared a look. “We are looking for someone,” Wyatt said after a moment, “We have reason to believe- we may need their help back home.”

“Back in- you’re from the other place, aren’t you?” Duke realized, “Where-”

“Yes, we are from the same universe as Thanos,” Hank said with a frown, “but we have neither affiliation nor allegiance with him.”

“So this person you’re looking for-”

A low moan cut off Duke’s question. “I’m afraid Scott’s condition is critical,” Hank said, “we cannot discuss this now. We hate to burden you, but we can repay you with- what meagre supplies we have, or labor if necessary.”

“It won’t be,” Duke said, firmly, “we’re here to help. No questions asked. The main issue is going to be moving him. Has he been cleared for spinal injuries?”

“Yes. Hank can carry him,” Wyatt said. “But our main hurdle is the supplies, and a safe place for him to recover.”

“We have room,” Duke said, “and some hot food. We can work something out. Can you keep up with us even when carrying him?”

Wyatt walked over to Hank and carefully laid the rifle down, posing it at the ready in case he had to grab it quickly. “We’ll have to lash him on with the rope,” Wyatt said, and lifted Scott from where he lay against the wall.

Scott stirred. “What are you- stop,” he muttered.

“We cannot stay here,” Wyatt said patiently as he moved Scott to Hank.

“No, just- splint me. We can keep going,” Scott said, “Venom and Black Cat can’t keep them distracted forever, and we’re running out-

“Listen to Wyatt, my fearless friend,” Hank chimed in, “these injuries are nothing to laugh off.”

“It’s not- that bad,” Scott murmured, as Wyatt tied the rope off, “Had worse in the Danger Room…” Wyatt rested a large, gentle hand on Scott’s temple before continuing his knots. “This sucks,” Scott grumbled, the smell of blood hanging around him in a cloud as vile as his mood.

“We hardly have much choice,” Hank said, “Your tibia at the very least is fractured. Your ambulatory adventures will be nonexistent until it heals.”

“We’d better move quickly,” Duke said when Wyatt tied off the last rope. “The patrols are getting more aggressive.”

Withdrawing his hand, Wyatt picked up the rifle again.

“You have no further questions before we move?” Hank asked, turning to face them, bearing the lanky bundle on his back with ease. “About me? You do not have mutants here, as far as we can tell.”

“Dude, it’s Gotham” Izzy said, “You’d fit right in with all the other weirdos even before the Snap.”

“Then we really are in the right place,” Wyatt said, some of the strain easing from his face.

“Oh, no you’re not,” Izzy said, “no one comes to Gotham. Not unless they have no choice.”

“That’s not entirely wrong, but we can tittle over technicalities at a later date,” Hank said. “Wyatt, can you-”

“Hey, Duke. Status?”

Duke answered the radio. “All’s clear. We picked up the survivors. We’re about to head back.”

“Really? Is that it?” he demanded, “We didn’t need four people for this!”

“We still might!” Duke snapped back, “Two teams of two. We’re going to be slow heading back and we need to cover each other. How’s the movement seem now?”

“Still focusing on those two newcomers,” Dax said, “I’d go while now you can.”

Duke turned back to Hank and Wyatt. “You don’t know the area at all, do you?” he asked.

“We do have a guide,” Wyatt said, “Someone monitoring satellites and taking thermal scans of the city.”

“Actually, I’m afraid Harry had to step away again,” Hank said, “Radio’s silent. Not sure how long he’ll be down this time. The connection has been poor since we entered the city, and I suspect he is having another attack- ”

Another, not so distant wail cut Hank off. Wyatt looked to Duke. “I think it’s best we leave now. To answer your question, no, neither of us have been to Gotham before.”

“Agreed,” Duke said. “Follow us and stay low. We’re going to have to move quickly.”

Return to GA

The patrols had thickened considerably, and they were forced to reroute their path twice to avoid the patrols. The eerie, not too distant cries and roars had not decreased, and each one screwed the tension in Duke’s spine tighter. Wyatt and Hank followed, Hank’s agility as inhuman as his appearance, while Wyatt moved with steady, patient experience of someone accustomed to moving quietly in an urban environment.

When they had to scatter back into a side alley away from their goal for the third time, the first real thread of worry began to weave its way down his spine.

“Well? Which way now?” Wyatt asked patiently, as Hank adjusted one of the ropes on his shoulder. Scott had fallen silent again, sluggish or exhausted Duke was unsure. Scott was aware. He answered questions and muttered under his breath, but more often than not his voice wavered or trailed off. It didn’t bode well if he had a concussion, and Hank seemed to be aware of it if his restless fidgeting every time they stopped was any indication. It bothered Wyatt, too, and Duke could see it in the way he positioned himself carefully in the back, his rifle at the ready, serving as the self-appointed rear guard but also keeping a steady eye on Scott.

“The catacombs the only way left,” Izzy said, “Can you swim with him on your back?”

“I can swim,” Hank said after a moment. “Easily. But ensuring he keeps his head above water-”

“I can do it,” Scott said, “if I don’t, then you have to-”

“We talked about this, Scott,” Hank said softly.

“I know what we said,” Scott replied, “But at this point I think we need to think about strategy-”

“We were not going to leave you, Scott!” Hank said, sharper, “Not when we could still all get out together.”

“But we didn’t,” Scott said, “Did we?”

For the first time, Hank stopped walking. “It’s not over. Not yet,” he said. “You said yourself. You went to the future-”

“I know what I said,” Scott said, tired. “And you told me it wasn’t written in stone. You told me I could change it. Well something changed all right.”

“Hey. Can we save this for when we’re safe?” Izzy asked.

“Of course. My apologies,” Hank said as he began moving again.

“The main problem’s getting to the catacombs without being sighted,” Duke said. “It’s a couple blocks south of here. Hey, you said you have two more people out there? Are you in radio contact?”

“The radios have been unreliable since we entered this world,” Hank answered, “and it has only worsened since we entered the city. I’ve told them we are withdrawing. They should be doing the same shortly- where exactly shall I tell them-”

His vision split again, threads of light weaving a new picture around him- of stone crumbling in, a heavy brick caving in Wyatt’s skull-

Then it was gone, and now he was aware of the low hum in the air.

“Move back!” Duke yelled, gesturing at Wyatt. Wyatt stopped, confused, and that was just enough to save him as the shriek of shattered stone curled around them, the heavy brick dropping harmlessly to the ground just in front of Wyatt.

“Haul ass! Follow Izzy!” Duke ordered, and they took off. Hank shot level to Izzy almost at once before matching her pace. Wyatt and Duke brought up the rear, Wyatt also matching Duke’s pace as he kept a tight grip on his rifle.

“Dax, we’re being attacked at the corner of Seventh and Moench,” Duke said into the radio, “You’re going around, right?”

“Roger. Think -- other two --” Dax said, the radio going to static over his words.

“Dax, you’re breaking up,” Duke said, and then, suddenly, his vision was filled with sickly green.

He knew, at once, what that meant, and with a panicked shout Duke threw himself to the side, shouting a warning moments before a green laser flooded the place he’d been standing. Wyatt darted over and grabbed Duke’s arm, hauling him to his feet before Duke had even got his wind back. The ground shook, and Duke’s vision went green again even as his knees buckled.

But then the green light muddied. Duke blinked, and his vision restabilized-

The green servos lit on the front of the machine in front of him as it prepared to fire, but then a beam of ruby light swept past them as a shriek of rage filled the air. Wyatt pulled Duke forward, and he regained his footing even as another ruby beam flashed past them. Scott had removed his bandages, Duke realized, and from his eyes that same ruby light they had seen earlier was tearing free, angry and destructive as his shouts filling the air, even as he twisted himself on Hank’s back to target the alien ships.

“Oh. That’s one way,” Duke said after a moment when the ships had been reduced to ash. Scott slumped forward onto Hank’s body, shaking.

“Scott,” Hank said, “Scott, do not succumb to sleep. You must stay awake a bit longer yet my friend.”

“M’ not,” Scott said, screwing his eyes closed. “Hurts too much.”

“Get moving!” Izzy hissed. She did not look shaken by this display of power, eyes narrowed and set in determination, but he knew her well enough to recognize the curve of her shoulders, of her jaw. They could talk about this later. They would talk about this later.

Chapter Text

“Thank you all again for your help,” Hank said, wincing as Wyatt parted his iridescent blue fur to reach a scrape on his back shoulder blade.

“And for sharing your stores with us," Wyatt said, his focus trained on Hank's injury.

“Like I said, this is what we do,” Duke said. “We Are Robin, and Robins help people in need.”

“Has there been any word on Scott’s condition yet?” Hank asked, grunting slightly as Wyatt tugged a sliver of glass free from his shoulder.

“Doctor Kinsolving is still working on it,” Izzy said, “And she can only work so fast.”

“Apologies. I don’t intend to be rude,” Hank said, his fingers weaving together. “I am worried. Scott took a nasty blow to the head and he already suffers effects from a previous head injury.”

“Doctor Kinsolving is the best at what she does,” Duke said, “And Scott seems like a tough cookie, right?”

Hank gave a mirthless laugh as Wyatt tied off the bandage on his arm. “Yes. That is one way to describe Scott,” Hank said.

“You could describe most of us that way, I think," a new voice said overhead.

“Huh?” Duke asked, as the translucent outline of a white woman dropped next to Wyatt, confident, poised. Duke blinked, and she dropped again, this time solid and real as a sucker punch.

“So much for radio contact with Harry,” she said, tossing her mane of white hair over one shoulder. The fourth member of Wyatt's scouting group, she had been introduced to Duke as Felicia. Her partner, the one who'd drawn the bulk of the Titan's attention, was still below in the caves under the school. He seemed to prefer being alone. Felicia, by all accounts, did not.

“We told you it’d be a longshot,” Dax observed from the doorway, “signals don’t carry well between our worlds.”

Few people seemed to fully understand the nuances of the way their worlds had converged. Back- before- he’d read a fair bit about the new research being done into it- about spaces occupied by two things at once, cities that had merged almost completely while others had sprouted up next to each other- about the way their tech compared and contrasted, about the way their magic compared and contrasted. But now… it was a puzzle he didn’t have the time or energy for now. There were far more important things to consider.

"The signal was usable before we crossed the river," Wyatt said. "I had hoped it would hold up more here."

“It's Gotham,” Izzy said, “what did you expect? Why are you even here in Gotham?”

Wyatt and Felicia shared a look, as if weighing their thoughts, but Hank leaned back on his heels, oblivious to the silent communication. “That is a more intricate inquiry than first it seems, my friend,” he said. “We are following a possible proxy to curtail the current situation.”

Felicia groaned as her gaze wandered over Duke, then Izzy. “Honey, that doesn’t do anything to answer their question, you know.”

“It is the truth,” Hank protested, but Izzy cut him off.

“Look,” Izzy said, I don’t know who you’re looking for, but I really don’t think anyone here in Gotham is going to fix this. We had heroes. We had people. Most of them are dead now.” Her jaw set. “All that’s left is a city full of people no one cares about. That’s our job. No one is going to fix this for you.”

Hank sighed. “I know this,” he said. “Honestly, I am only here because- well.” Hank pushed up his glasses. “I am here because Scott insisted on coming and I could not let him come alone. Even if it is a fool's errand.”

“I don’t believe that,” Wyatt said. "I will not believe it. Somewhere in Gotham, there is a person capable of passing something called a soul barrier. What that is or why that matters, I don’t know, but it’s what we have to go on.”

“A soul-barrier?” Duke asked, casting a glance at Izzy, “No, never heard of that.”

“Never?” Wyatt prompted, his gaze moving from Duke, to Izzy, to Andre and Dax. “Are you certain?”

“Certain,” Andre said. “There’s a lot of weird stuff in Gotham, but nothing like that. This isn't really a place for magic.”

“Do you have any more information than that?” Dax asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Wyatt said. “This- this information is technically second hand, but I was present when it was given out.”

“So then who told you about this- soul-barrier?” Izzy asked.

Wyatt exhaled. He looked the more tired of them, Duke thought, exhaustion and grief weighing on his brow, as it weighed on anyone who lived under Thanos' rule.

“Your world has magicians and mystics as we do in our own,” Hank spoke up. “One of the lesser-known figures in ours is- was- a clairvoyant named Cassandra Webb. Wyatt and Felicia have more experience with her, I believe.”

“Haven’t met her once,” Felicia said, stretching as she spoke. “All I know is she used to make Spider pretty upset.”

“I don’t know much more,” Wyatt said, “But I was there when she spoke to Spider-Man. She warned him about Thanos before he arrived. She warned us we would very likely fail to stop him and if we did, we had a short window to undo it.”

“Undo it?” Duke repeated, stunned, as Izzy’s head shot up and echoed after him.

“Undo- is that possible?”

“Madam Webb seemed to think it possible,” Wyatt replied. “I could not see the vision she granted to Spider-Man, so I don’t know everything. But I did hear her. And she said-” Wyatt dug in his vest pocket and pulled out a stained piece of paper, unfolding it slowly. His mouth quirked to the side as he scanned it over. “I didn’t remember everything, I’m afraid. It wasn’t meant for me. But she said we’d need someone to break the barrier of souls, and that to find that we need -” he scanned the paper for a moment. “- ‘the Argonaut, the dead man dancing, the Forgotten Knight.’ I believe this all refers to one person. And to find them, we need-”

He tilted his head, squinting at the paper. “Sorry. My handwriting is small- “The songbird heralding dawn’s first Light, the Son of- Nomon?- the Last Knight.”

“Nomon?” Dax asked, “Or no man?”

“I believe it was Nomon,” Wyatt said, “I’m not sure. Her visions weren’t shared with me.”

“Did Spider-Man say what he saw?”

“No,” Wyatt said softly, “he didn’t get the chance. He may have told more to Johnny, the other person there, but-” Wyatt paused, and his lips pressed together for a moment as his eyes went bright. “The Snap took him, too. So this, and the fact that she told Spider-Man to come to Gotham,” Wyatt said, folding the paper up, “is all we have to work with. I know it’s a stretch. I know this is one chance in a thousand. But it’s a chance I must take.” His dark eyes flashed. “I cannot give up if we have a chance of fixing this.”

“I mean, that’s all well and good,” Izzy said, “But people need to eat. You can- go about saving the world and all that. They’re still going to need it even if this gets- fixed. These are people no one cared about before the Snap. This is the work that matters.

“It does matter,” Wyatt said, “It matters very much. But half my nation is gone. I will not accept that until I have no other option.”

“Well,” she said, looking away, “Robin fits the songbird part, but he’s pretty much toast and I don’t think he can do anything about a soul-barrier.”

“Robin?” Felicia asked, “I thought you were Robin.”

“We used Robin’s name,” Duke said. “Robin is a symbol of hope here. So when he- died- we decided that we wouldn’t let hope die. We built this to protect what remained.”

“And it seems you’ve been quite successful,” Hank said, “Even in my oblique observations, the flora in your greenhouses seem healthy and thriving.”

“There’s one more angle you might look at,” Duke said after a moment. “There’s two references to knights. Our local hero was Batman, the Dark Knight. His team were sometimes called the Gotham Knights.” He’d thought it was a coincidence when he first opened his mouth, but the more he thought on it, the more things clicked into place. Batman had quite a few sidekicks. The Forgotten Knight- could be any number of Batman’s partners who had worked with him in the line of duty.

“And where can we find Batman and Robin?”

“Batman got Snapped,” Duke said, “and Robin-” he grimaced, glancing over to the other Robins.

“- It didn’t end well for him,” Dax finished. “So- I think most of them got confirmed Snapped. We got footage of Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler, and that new one, at the very least. Not that we’ve really worried about if any of them made it out or not.”

“I think Batgirl was still around,” Izzy said, “but what she’s been up to I have no idea, and forget getting in touch with her. We don’t even know where she is.”

“Doctor Kinsolving might know something,” Andre cut in. “She was engaged to Bruce Wayne, y’know.”

“Hold up, she was what?” Duke asked, turning to face Andre.

Andre shrugged. “She just mentioned it when I was helping her take inventory. Something about how she and Bruce used to volunteer in the East End office.”

“Sorry, who is Bruce Wayne?” Hank cut in.

“He funds Batman,” Izzy said, “Kind of an open secret around here in Gotham.”

Not quite, Duke wanted to say. Bruce Wayne was Batman. He'd known it since Bruce Wayne had shown up in his living room all those years ago. But the conversation had already flowed on, and whether Duke mentioned it or not didn’t make Batman any less a scattered set of molecules hovering on the wind.

“So you think this Dr. Kinsolving may know something?” Felicia was asking.

“It’s the best lead we have,” Dax said. “I’d wait, though. Let her have some time to herself after she finishes working on Scott.”

“She’s our only doctor,” Andre agreed, “and it’s hard enough to convince her to rest as it is.”

“Yes,” Hank said, “that’s only fair.”

“We’ve waited weeks,” Wyatt said. “A few more hours will make little difference. I believe we are all tired. If you’re willing to allow us to stay-”

“Yeah, of course” Duke said, “We running low on rooms, but I’m sure we have space somewhere. Gotham Academy is a big place.”

“If there is a library,” Hank said, “I can set up there quite contentedly. Perhaps do some research into this soul-barrier.”

“The library has room, yeah,” Duke said, “and the history section here might have what you’re looking for. Are you all staying together? What about your partner down with Croc-”

“No,” Wyatt said. “It’s better if Venom stays below.”

“How so?” Duke asked.

Wyatt weighed his words. For once, Hank was quiet. “Venom… is not a threat,” Wyatt said at last, “but he’s not safe, either. It’s best to limit his contact with unknowns. He was very traumatized after the Snap.”

“Ok,” Duke said. “And no one’s in danger?”

“No,” Felicia said, and for the first time, the easy tone was gone from her voice. “Not as long as you’re careful. Just don’t antagonize him.”

Duke eyed them suspiciously. They looked as tired as he felt, Duke thought, as tired as everyone had been since this whole shit with Thanos went down.

They were warned, Wyatt had said. How had that not been enough? How had they failed even knowing-

Ok, that wasn’t fair, part of him murmured, even as the other part fumed. Thanos was pretty much a living god with an army. Even the Justice League hadn’t been able to do anything- they’d all seen the blurry footage of Orion and Wonder Woman, bruised and bloodied as they fought back to back- Superman buried under a mass of living soldiers-

No. That was in the past, Duke thought as they led Hank, Wyatt and Felicia to the library. The focus now was surviving. Was getting through this day alive, and keeping the people of Gotham safe.

It wouldn’t hurt, a small part of him murmured, to talk to Kyle and double check with Olive. They would know more about anything going on with- soul barriers and other nonsense?

“Yes,” Hank said, rubbing his hands together as he spun in a slow circle, examining the library. “This shall do nicely. I can buckle down-”

“Hank,” Wyatt cut in, exasperated, “You are exhausted. We are all exhausted.”

“I could not sleep anyway, Wyatt,” Hank said, “Not until I know what Doctor Kinsolving has to say about Scott’s condition.”

“This may be true,” Wyatt said, “but you can’t keep going forever, Hank. You aren’t a machine.”

“No, but I might as well make some use of the time,” Hank said, “I will not be able to rest until I know Scott is going to be alright.”

“Nor will the rest of us,” Wyatt said, even as Felicia made a face in the background that clearly said ‘speak for yourself’. “But he would not want this, Hank.”

“You didn’t know Scott,” Hank shot back, “How do you know what he wanted?”

“I know that he loves you,” Wyatt said, his voice even as the stroke of a master calligrapher, “And I know he would not want you to exhaust yourself out of guilt. Nor would any of the other X-Men.”

Hank’s shoulders slumped, Wyatt's words sharp enough to cut the threads holding them up.

“You are right, as usual,” Hank said. “But I don’t like it.” Hank rubbed his face. “We have lost so much time already.”

“We will make time,” Wyatt said, unslinging his bag.

“We’ll let you know when we have an update on Scott,” Duke said. “Doctor Kinsolving’s still working on his leg it seems.”

Hank winced. “Will he be- no, I don’t suppose you would know yet.”

“No. Sorry,” Duke said, and Hank turned back to his pack.

Something flickered on the edge of his vision. Duke sighed, but even as he did, he knew something was different about this appearance. The same as last time, he realized.

It was asking him to hurry.