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Chapter Text

Gotham was just as much of a shithole as she had been told, Dinah thought to herself as she walked down the street, dodging trash and spots of mysterious liquid that she was trying not to think too hard about.

The League had been keeping tabs on the hellish city since it had been founded, but in the past year the whispers of spirits and demons, of bats and birds that leaked out of the city had picked up in frequency. So much so that the Justice League was beginning to think they may not be just rumours, but – and Dinah shuddered to think of it – that maybe it was the truth.

Cyborg had been scanning the web with no luck so far – it seemed Gothamites were as wary of outsiders as outsiders were of them. But he had hit the jackpot when it came to police records.

The infamous Gotham police department had the most corruption in what might have been the entire world, and even their police reports should be taken with a grain of salt. The reports were often embellished or straight up faked, so many holes in the records that it was more a fantastical diary entry than anything. But, even then, the number of times it was recorded that an officer picked up a criminal tied up and unconscious from the side of the road was telling. Not to mention the Gotham rogues, a group of crazies that the police – hell, even the military – were not equipped to deal with, that still managed to mysteriously make their way back to Arkham Asylum after every breakout. Corrupt the GCPD may be, but this was more than that.

So now here Dinah was, stepping across cracked pavement and sticking to the bright lights, veering away from the alleys, with her hand tightly clutched around the small knife in her pocket in the case of potential thieves or whatever other dangers she might encounter. The few Gothamites she passed gave her odd, unwelcoming glances but she paid them no mind, although she did note how they stuck to the shadows, like they were safer in the dark. In any other city the dark was dangerous, but Gotham was different, and Dinah changed her path accordingly. It would do no good to stand out and be attacked before she could gather the necessary information.

The people of Gotham acted like no other, a whole different breed of human, cautious, and yet so entirely too used to crime that it was astounding anyone even lived in the city at all. They stuck to the shadows when the light was supposedly safer, heads ducked in a feeble sort of way that in any other city would be a show of weakness that would practically invite a mugging, and all their possessions tucked securely away so much so that Dinah wasn’t even sure if they had anything on them. And worst of all, they didn’t even blink at crime.

Dinah had heard the rumours, read stories that told of gas attacks that conjured your greatest fears and the Gothamites who simply slipped on their gas masks and hurried along to continue with their day. But it was one thing to hear of the seemingly impervious nature of the people of Gotham and a completely different experience to watch them in their natural habitat, casually walking by a burning store as if it was an everyday occurrence – though for them it probably was.

Dinah almost shrieked out loud as a rat the size of a house cat scampered out of an alley and shuddered with her whole body. She wanted to get out of the city sooner rather than later.

It wasn’t her first time here – she had attended a few galas with Ollie – but she had never ventured past the rich and shining part of the city, made for the upper class to pretend that their city wasn’t such a flaming trash heap.

Shaking her head, Dinah hurried on her way. It was nearing night time and hopefully Black Canary had better luck tracking down these so-called bat demons.

Hours later, dressed in her bird-like mask and fishnet stockings, Black Canary jumped from rooftop to rooftop.

Gotham at night looked almost identical to daytime Gotham, albeit darker – though the pollution barely let any sunlight in to begin with, so it wasn’t by much. The city never seemed to sleep and although in the more business centred districts there was very little activity, the less savoury parts of town were blooming with it. But it was the essence of the city that changed so drastically with the hours. While during the day Gotham was busy and always moving, at night it was a twisted sort of still, like there was a finger on a trigger and everyone was simply waiting for it to be pulled.

And yet, from the rooftops that Black Canary perched upon, the city was thrumming with life – dangerous and dirty but with an undercurrent of peace – like the calm in the eye of a storm.

It must have once been a beautiful city, Black Canary noted, with its grand gothic architecture and stone gargoyles, before crime had chipped away at all hints of grandeur. Even now, she could see smoke rising high into the sky from across the city. It was true what people said about the city – there was always crime happening somewhere in Gotham.

The best way to track down these bat demons would be to follow the crime, and while there was plenty of crime to be found in Crime Alley, she might have more luck at the docks, where all the serious crime happened. Though these demons would be more likely to appear in Crime Alley, there was no way for her to track them, whereas the docks were always quiet, except when the bullets started to fly – practically a homing beacon to their whereabouts.

Most of the rooftops were close enough together that a grapple wasn’t necessary, but by the time Black Canary had reached the docks, she had been made to rework her route enough times to wish she had one.

The docks were quiet, the warehouses in the area dark, but Black Canary knew from her experience in Star City that this could change within moments. The docks were, after all, where most deals went down – whether that was for drugs, weapons or from human trafficking. All she had to do was wait.

It was nearing 3 in the morning and Black Canary would normally have finished up by now – would probably be asleep by now, really. The night had been rather quiet, all things considered – she had stopped a few muggings and caught a car thief – and she was contemplating heading back to the hotel and trying again another night when gunfire started up from a warehouse several blocks down.

Black Canary was up and moving within seconds, making her way across the warehouses as quickly as possible to get to the commotion. It took minutes at most and yet by the time she reached it, the sounds of fighting had long since tapered off.

“Hello,” she called, hoping to catch the bat’s attention. “It’s Black Canary. Could we talk?”

Nothing. The air was still filled with the scent of gunpowder and the silence was interrupted occasionally by the faint, pained groans of whoever the demons had taken down, but there was no hint of the demon’s presence. She stayed put for a moment longer, but still no one showed. She scoffed, frustrated.

Black Canary turned around.

The shadowy outline was the first thing she saw, tall but lithe and twisting round in a way no human would be capable of. The light highlighted its pale skin, the dark blue stripes running down its arms, across its chest, glowing faintly in the dark like ghostly blood. Its hair was messy, matted with blood, the coppery tang filled the air as it dripped down the demon’s skin, across the mask on its face, which almost seemed to resemble a jagged wound. It smiled, almost invitingly if it weren’t for the deadly teeth, and chittered like a bird. The eyes behind the mask lens glowed a pale, other-worldly white.

Afterwards, she would admit it wasn’t her finest moment, but in that second all she could think of was the terror coursing through her veins. Her scream echoed through the night sky, and before anyone else could move she was off, shooting across the rooftops as fast as her legs could take her, barely drawing a breath till she was back at the hotel.

Needless to say, she wasn’t coming back to Gotham any time soon.

Chapter Text

Nightwing had been finishing up with his patrol, the rest of the bats already finished and heading back by then – he had taken on the largest section of Batman’s patrol route while the man was overseas for ‘business’ – when Oracle had informed him of a deal going down by the docks.

It had taken Nightwing all of ten minutes to get to the warehouse, silently grappling across the city and cursing himself out for parking the batmobile where he did – it was back just outside of Crime Alley and would take almost half an hour to get to.

Inside the warehouse, what looked like a drug trade was going down between two of the lesser-known Gotham gangs.

Nightwing slipped silently through one of the upper windows, sneaking along the rafters till he was positioned above the centre of the warehouse, where the majority of the gangs had congregated to argue amongst themselves. From his position, Nightwing could count a total of twenty-one goons, eleven of which seemed to be on guard duty.

It was easy to drop down into a shadowy corner and start to pick off the guards, one by one, keeping to the shadows as silently as possible. There may have been only two low level gangs, but they were still armed.

A guard from behind one of the crates to his left shouted out in alarm, obviously having found one of their unconscious comrades and Nightwing pulled out his escrima sticks, pressing a button on his utility belt to detonate the smoke bombs he had placed. Another press of the button and the lights fizzled out, casting the warehouse into darkness for five seconds, enough time for him to get into position.

By the time the lights flickered back to life, Nightwing was standing in the middle of the group, grinning in a way he knew sent shivers down criminals’ spines and chirping eerily to get the crowd’s attention. He delighted in the outright squeals of terror – the best bit of the creepy, possessed act by far – and started to take down the remaining goons, dodging out of reach of the bullets flying through the air before diving back into the fray.

It took barely two minutes for the last criminal to go down and Nightwing made quick work of restraining them, cleaning up all evidence of his presence while Oracle called the police. Then he ducked back up into the rafters to wait.

“Hello,” a voice called from the roof. Nightwing jolted with surprise, almost losing his balance on the metal beam he was perched on, preparing himself for another fight when the next words rang out. “It’s Black Canary. Could we talk?”

Nightwing pressed a hand to the comms link, knowing Oracle had heard the words. “It’s her.”

With that confirmation Nightwing beamed, silently clambering his way up to the roof and positioning himself to stand behind Black Canary without notice, grinning.

With a frustrated huff, Black Canary turned around, catching sight of Nightwing and freezing in her tracks. The stillness of the moment was broken as Black Canary screamed, knocking him backwards with the sonic blast before turning away and bolting.

Oracle’s laughter echoed down the comms link. “Oh, that was gold!” she exclaimed.

Dick was still grinning as he reached the batcave, parking the batmobile and climbing out. His interaction with Black Canary was fresh in his mind, and he stifled a chuckle as he made his way over to his siblings with a slightly manic grin on his face.

Tim, seated at the batcomputer, noticed him first. “What is it?” he asked, looking warily at whatever expression he saw on Dick’s face.

Dick gasped in almost shock as he turned to the batcomputer that he knew Babs was listening in from. “Babs. You didn’t tell them?”

Sure enough, Babs’ voice echoed from the device. “I thought they might enjoy your dramatic re-enactment,” she said, the smile in her voice evident.

Dick clutched his heart with a smile. “Aw, Babs. I knew you cared!”

“Ha, ha,” Babs deadpanned.

Steph, tired of waiting, interrupted. “What happened?”

Dick grinned at Steph. “Well, I’m so glad you asked. I ran into Black Canary on patrol.”

The effect of the words was immediate, all of the bats within earshot perking up at the words and looking amused as they tuned into the conversation.

“So, the Justice League is finally snooping around Gotham?” Duke asked.

Tim, the one who Bruce had put on tracking duty for the entirety of Dinah’s stay in Gotham, clapped his hands together. “Oh, so that’s what she’s doing in Gotham.”

Steph jumped up from where she was seated. “And while B is out of the country!” she cackled.

Dick grinned but schooled his face into a strict expression. “Shush, let me finish,” he scolded. And with that, Dick launched into his story, rushing through his retelling of the brief fight with the goons before, almost bursting with excitement, he started to tell the group of his interaction with Black Canary. Dick grinned as he finished it off by re-enacting how Black Canary had screamed and ran in genuine terror when she had caught sight of him.

“Her face!” Dick finished his story with a laugh. “Her face, guys, you should have seen it.”

Damian crossed his arms, looking disapproving, but anyone could see the delight on his face. “Tt. The Justice League –” he sneered the name like it was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe “– are such imbeciles. Of course they would fall for a deception as simple as our demonic act.”

Jason whipped around to look at the batcomputer. “Holy shit, Barbie, please tell me you got the footage.”

“Depends on what you’ve got for it,” Babs countered quickly.

Jason’s grin just widened. “Easy,” he crowed with a thrilled expression. “I’ve got a video of the time Dickface fell off the roof and into a dumpster after he fell asleep on patrol.”

Dick screeched, outraged. “Hey! We said we wouldn’t speak of the dumpster incident.”

“It’s for a good cause,” Jason said with a shrug.

“Deal,” said Barbara. Jason cheered, yelping as he had to duck to the side to avoid Dick tackling him.

“Hey, I never agreed to anything, Dickie. It’s your fault you assumed,” Jason jeered, jumping backwards again to avoid Dick’s arm.

Raising his voice to be heard over the noise Dick and Jason’s game of chase was making, Tim spoke up. “What will we do about the League?”

Steph started to laugh with glee. “I’ve got some ideas.”

“I almost feel sorry for them,” Duke said in amusement.

Tim spun around to face the computer and started to type away, hacking into the Hall of Justice feed. “Don’t. It’s their fault they’re so easy to mess with. Now, let’s see what the Justice League is planning.”

Chapter Text

The Justice League was seated around the large table in the meeting room of the Hall of Justice, waiting for the few late members to arrive so that the meeting could start. Black Canary sat near the head of the table, still looking a bit shaken, and Green Arrow sat beside her, attempting to provide comfort.

Once Flash finally ran into the room, nothing more than a red blur, Superman stood, clearing his voice and waiting for the sounds of chatter to taper off.

“Okay, thank you,” Superman said with a dazzling smile. “Now, as you may recall, last meeting Cyborg reported to have found some evidence that the Gotham Bat hero rumours were true.” He paused and sounds of agreement echoed up from the surrounding League members.

Cyborg himself stepped up and nodded, bringing up the GCPD files on the large screens across the room. He started to go over his findings within the GCPD reports, pointing out the repeated mentions that pointed towards outside help in bringing down criminals. Then, he pulled up another file and numerous pictures popped up on screen.

“Since the last meeting, I’ve been scanning through Gotham camera feeds for any visuals on these Bats.” He motioned towards the screen. The images displayed were from security cameras, and the few of them on screen showed a blur of black, a shadowy figure that was almost indiscernible from its surroundings.

“No individual is able to completely avoid detection from cameras unless they were to tamper with the cameras. But I’ve scanned through years of footage, and these are the only images of them found. These vigilantes are able to avoid cameras with an uncanny skill. The only images I’ve successfully found of them are all blurred outlines or shadows. They are, without a doubt, very skilled individuals.” With that, Cyborg sat back down.

Superman nodded. “Thank you, Cyborg. Now Black Canary, if you would.”

Black Canary stood with a grim tone and any talking was muted around them. She was quick but thorough as she reported on her encounter with one of the vigilantes, and by the end, even those who had read her written report were gasping in shock.

“We are unsure what they are, or if they truly mean well. We don’t even know if they are human, though it is doubtful,” Canary finished.

The table erupted into chatter, each hero chiming in with their own opinions on the Gotham vigilantes to whoever would listen.

They all, however, fell silent as Zatanna cleared her throat. “If I may. Gotham is a unique city, and the magic coming off of it –” she shuddered “- it’s bad. Constantine seems to think that the city itself has somehow gained sentience, and I’m inclined to believe him. If there is even a possibility that the city is being protected by demons, we have to find out for sure.”

Muttered sounds of agreement rang out from up and down the table.

For the next half an hour, the League planned out their next steps, Superman guiding the discussion while Wonder Woman helped to sort out the ideas into a proper plan.

When they finished, Wonder Woman addressed the League members seated before her. “Are there any objections?” she asked.

Flash sat forwards. “If they are as skilled as Cyborg suggested, they may not react well to a kidnapping.”

Wonder Woman nodded in agreement. “We will, of course, try our best to proceed with the peaceful detainment. But if they refuse to come with us, we may have no choice in the matter – we need to know if they are a threat to civilians or to the Justice League. Anything else?”

When no one else spoke up, Wonder Woman nodded her head. “Very well. Meeting adjourned.”

The conclusion reached by his siblings was that since Nightwing was the only Bat that the Justice League had met, he was the one who should be kidnapped. But, standing on the roof of an abandoned apartment building, surrounded by several of the most capable Justice League members, he was beginning to regret agreeing to the plan.

Red Robin and Oracle had been keeping tabs on the Justice League since Black Canary had hightailed it out of Gotham, and had laid out the League’s – slightly ridiculous, if you asked him – plan. The aim – to figure out if the Bats were or were not a threat – was a good one, but the actual planning was abysmal. They had no information whatsoever.

And yet still, that morning, Oracle had called in to inform him that the League would be attempting their kidnapping that night, and to be at the docks by midnight or else.

Nightwing wouldn’t dare risk the ‘or else’ and so here he was.

Some of the core founding members of the League had been chosen for this kidnapping and formed a circle around him, though he could see multiple gaps through which he could escape – formidable though they were, they had minimal formal combat training except for Wonder Woman, who kept eyeing the gaps in frustration.

Similarly, he could spot at least one obvious weak point in almost all of their fighting stances – except for Wonder Woman and Black Canary’s. If Nightwing were to ever have a civil conversation with the Justice League, this would be one of the first things to bring up.

“Demon,” addressed Wonder Woman boldly. “Please, stand down and come with us. We mean you no harm, but we have some questions for you.”

Nightwing reigned in his amused smirk and instead chittered like a bird in a way he knew sent shudders down people’s spines. To his left, Superman flinched harshly at the noise.

He tilted his head to the side. “I’m sure you can ask them here.” The voice modulator in his suit made it sound raspy and low.

“I’m afraid it’s rather sensitive in nature. If you come with us, we can discuss it once we are at our headquarters,” Superman said.

Nightwing crossed his arms, looking deep in thought and hummed. While pretending to consider the decision he kept the noise going, delighting in the way it made Green Arrow squirm.

“Okay, no,” he said, finally.

A frustrated look crossed Wonder Woman’s face. “Come with us, or we will be forced to retrain you and take you as a prisoner.”

“No,” Nightwing hissed back, lunging for the side of the building and escaping the circle, tripping up Green Arrow as he went.

Behind him, Superman yelled out “After him.” Nightwing pulled a shard of kryptonite out of his utility belt and held it up before Superman could move to stop him.

Flash zoomed past Nightwing, knocking him off balance, but he was quick to correct it and jump to the next rooftop, away from the Canary cry that shook the ground where he had been standing moments before.

As he dodged a bright green construct from Green Lantern, Nightwing focused on finding a pattern in Flash’s running, while simultaneously trying not to show the League the full extent of what he could do.

Nightwing snarled viciously as Wonder Woman’s lasso wrapped around his arm, but it created the opening he needed. He dropped to the floor, dragging the lasso down with him, and Flash yelped as he tripped over it, going flying into Green Lantern, who banished his construct to catch the flying speedster.

In the confusion, Nightwing freed his arm, leaping to the next rooftop and tucking the kryptonite away in a compartment in his shoe as he rolled.

Nightwing rolled to a stop and let out a high-pitched chirp of feigned surprise as Green Arrow stood above him, an arrow aimed at his head.

“Don’t move,” Green Arrow ordered.

Nightwing slowly lifted his arms into a surrender as he banished all traces of triumph from his face. Phase one was complete.

Chapter Text

“There’s definitely magic involved – it surrounds him like an aura. But it doesn’t confirm what he is,” Zatanna reported.

Diana stepped forwards. “Is there any way to find out?”

Zatanna shook her head. “No. I could do a ritual, but that is more Constantine’s area of expertise,” she said.

“Well then, a good old-fashioned interrogation it is,” declared Hal.

Clark nodded. “You’re right.” They all glanced through the one-way mirror and into the interrogation room, where the Bat was lounging – quite comfortable looking for a prisoner currently restrained with the most complex cuffs the League could find clasped around his wrists and ankles.

“Diana and Ollie will go first,” Clark said. Oliver wouldn’t say that he was excited to be chosen, but he was intrigued by the Bat demon that the League had kidnapped.

The Bat perked up as the door opened and the two walked into the room while the rest of the Justice League watched from the window with bated breaths. They had confiscated the utility belt – though not without great difficulty – but the demon was still dangerous. And no one knew where it had got the kryptonite from. They had been through the pockets multiple times but there was no sign of it. Now, they were going off of Zatanna’s suggestion that it was conjured.

Inside the room, Nightwing grinned at the two heroes like a cat when it had its prey cornered. Green Arrow suppressed a shudder at the sight.

Wonder Woman, however, ignored the expression and powered on, though Green Arrow was giving the prisoner wary glances.

“I apologise for the violent capture,” she started with a nod.

The smile on the Bat’s face didn’t falter. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” he said cheerfully.

“Very well. May I use the lasso of truth and ask you a few questions?” she said.

The Bat nodded back, and Wonder Woman made quick work of wrapping the glowing rope around the prisoner’s forearm. They sucked in a quick breath, but showed no other sign that the lasso’s power was affecting them.

“What is your name?” Wonder Woman started.

The vigilante chittered out a laugh. “Nightwing.”

“Now, Nightwing. What is your aim in protecting Gotham?”

“To help,” the vigilante replied immediately. Wonder Woman’s jaw tightened noticeably before she schooled her expression into something more relaxed. Green Arrow could understand the frustration. The demon was using half truths and vague answers to fool the lasso, and they couldn’t know for sure its intentions. For all they knew, he wanted to help himself.

Green Arrow took his turn to ask questions and stepped forward. “What are you?”

“A vigilante,” Nightwing shot back with a cutting grin.

Green Arrow growled under his breath. “Are you a demon?”

Nightwing tilted his head. “Others call us that.”

Wonder Woman stepped in before Green Arrow could lose his temper. “Us? How many of you are there?”

Nightwing grinned brightly. “Of me? Only one.” Wonder Woman scowled and tightened the lasso, and the Bat hissed. “Too many,” he replied through gritted teeth.

Wonder Woman and Green Arrow shared a glance. It seemed they were not getting anything out of the demon. Wordlessly, Wonder Woman slackened her hold on the lasso and untied it from Nightwing’s arm. Then, she turned on her heel and marched out the door, Green Arrow trailing behind.

“Anything?” Dinah asked once the door to the room was closed securely.

Diana growled in frustration. “Nothing. He hides the truth behind half-truths and non-answers.”

“His name is Nightwing,” Oliver piped up from behind. Clark’s face clouded over.

“Kal-El? What is it?” Diana asked.

“That name is from a Kryptonian legend. There’s no way he could know it,” he trailed off.

The lights above the group flickered suddenly and gazes went from looking around concernedly to staring at the light in question, before snapping to the window and the demon beyond.

Gasps sounded and the group rushed to the window as Nightwing sat up from his lounged position, mouth spread into a gleeful smile that showcased his rows of pointed teeth, blood pouring fresh down his face and, most importantly, handcuffs dangling from one hand as he waved tauntingly at the glass.

The lights flickered off for a second, and by the time they turned back on, the demon was gone.

Green Arrow swore to himself, and Flash dashed into the interrogation room to check.

“Empty. Where could it have gone?” Barry said.

Green Arrow notched an arrow. “Great. Disappearing tricks,” he muttered.

Superman cocked his head to the side, then scanned the area with dilated pupils. “Nothing. There’s no sign of him.”

“Fuck, fuck. Of course we have a creepy, vengeful demon loose in the building,” Hal said.

The group jumped as the hall was filled with red light, disembodied laughter ringing out from down the hall. Superman stumbled slightly, a worried look on his face.

“They turned on the red sun lamps.”

Flash was almost vibrating in place, Green Arrow noted, as the rest of the League inched forwards, towards the creepy laughter. “They’re turning the Hall of Justice into some horror movie,” Flash whispered to himself, earning a soft elbow to the gut from Green Lantern and a glare from Green Arrow.

“Did you have to point it out?” Green Arrow hissed at the speedster.

Suddenly, further down the hall, a dark, shadowy figure emerged from the black. Green Arrow yelped and let loose an arrow.

In a single, fluid motion, the figure swiped the arrow out of the air. They tilted their head in a bird-like manner, the wide grinning mouth stitched into the black void of their face taunting as the arrow dropped to the ground.

Oliver jumped at the clattering noise the arrow made, and the figure slunk back into the shadows as silently as they had appeared.

The Justice League took a collective breath of relief and then ran over to the shadowy corner where the arrow lay, almost taunting as it sat on the floor.

“Nothing. They’re gone,” Wonder Woman reported, voice more and more unnerved as she spoke.

Superman was turning pale, whether from the red kryptonite or the fear Green Arrow didn’t know, and his face was one of complete confusion. “Impossible.”

“Ghosts,” Hal whispered, causing others to whip around and glare at him. “What? We’re dealing with ghosts.”

This time, Barry elbowed him in the gut, shutting up his betrayed yelp with narrowed eyes.

Oliver’s head, along with the rest of the League’s, all snapped to the end of the hall as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed. At the end of the hall stood a bold figure, wearing a leather jacket and a blood red helmet with glowing green eyes. There were guns gripped in each of his hands, Oliver realised, arms extended and weapons aimed.

The League started to move, but too late, and the triggers were pulled. Once, twice, three and four times. Oliver flinched as each shot echoed harshly down the dimly lit halls. And when he looked up, the figure was gone.

“Is everyone-? What – what is happening?” Clark said.

“I do not know,” Diana answered grimly. “But we must continue.”

Then, without waiting for a response, Diana marched fearlessly onwards to the end of the hall, where the red helmeted figure had stood. The rest of the group trailed reluctantly behind her.

As a clattering sound echoed continuously throughout the halls, Diana turned back to the group.

“Be on guard,” Diana warned.

Once again, Oliver’s head spun round as a screeching sound drew their attention to the end of the next hall, the grinding of metal on metal.

“There,” Diana shouted, a determined glint in her eye. Around the corner and almost out of sight was a bloodied pole, dragging along the ground and leaving a red trail behind it.

They ran down the hall, Oliver gripping his bow nervously. The rest of the League followed Diana much more willingly, and a quick glance behind explained it. The lights in the hall behind them were shutting off, one by one as they passed through, the clattering noise a continuous sound, in time with the terrified beating of his heart, setting Oliver’s frayed nerves on edge.

By the time they reached the corner, the blood was gone. The scraping sounded from down the next hall, and they again ran after it, but again there was no trace left behind. There was a rising frustration in the group as they ran down several more halls, led around the building by the horrible grating noise and the disappearing blood trail. Past the meeting rooms and the kitchens, they ran as fast as they could, but whenever they managed to catch up, there was no trace left behind.

As they ran down the hall that led to the training room, Oliver began to realise that the pole was leading them somewhere, but he had no time to think about it as they ran down the hall to the training room. Something caught his eye from the corner of his vision and he let out a shriek.

The Justice League skidded to a stop, all looking to a doorway, where moments before a small child had stood, half hidden in the shadows and holding a large, bloodied sword.

“That disappearing act is getting old fast,” Hal muttered annoyedly, but his voice was starting to shake.

Diana let out a choked noise as she looked down the end of the hall, and Oliver, dreading what he would see, looked towards the double doors of the training room, where a figure was contorted on the floor.

Nightwing raised himself up slightly, leg inching over his head to drag himself forwards while his back twisted around. He let out rasping growls as he reached forward, clawing at the ground as he moved towards them.

As Nightwing approached, blood, thick and oozing, started to pour down the walls. The Justice League inched closer together and away from the walls, holding fighting poses though they doubted it would do them any good.

On the floor, with bones that looked broken in more than one place, Nightwing tweeted like a bird, smiling. The lights flared bright, almost blinding, before flickering out. When they turned back on, Nightwing was gone.

Oliver shuddered.

“Where did -” Oliver’s words were cut off by a scream, as Hal pointed behind them, where the dark shadowy figure stood in the middle of the hall. The lights flickered off, and seconds later, when light once again flooded the hall, the figure was closer, so much closer that Oliver wanted to scream.

“Retreat. To the training room,” Diana ordered, and the group ran to the door in a desperate scramble.

“Locked,” Barry whined when he tried the doors.

Then, lights flashed out from nowhere and everywhere all at once, bright and burning against their eyes. When the spots faded, they realised their mistake.

The lockdown sequence ended only a moment later, and the clanging of the barred wall – similar to that of a prison cell – settling on the floor was like a death sentence. They were trapped.

Then, from the darkness beyond the bars, seven figures appeared. 

Chapter Text

The figures approached slowly, like panthers stalking their prey, smiles stretched grotesquely across their faces. Barry was shaking, vibrating so fast as terror ran through his veins that he feared he'd go right through the floor. But the rest of the League couldn't escape like that, so he stayed.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here-" Nightwing said as he stepped forwards. But he paused before finishing his sentence as the robotic voice of the zeta tube announcement echoed from the atrium.

"02, Batman."

Before his very eyes, the demonic figures that made such terrifying sights transformed from frightening to frightened . They froze where they stood, eyes going wide behind whiteout lenses.

The Justice League sent each other confused looks. Who could be frightening enough to scare the demons before them? Barry really did not want to find out.

A footfall, almost too faint to hear, sounded from somewhere in the building. Just like that, the demons before them turned into a flurry of motion.

“You said he was gone till next week!” the purple one shrieked.

The demon in red with the bo staff ran a hand through his bloodied hair, a panicked look on his face. “I thought he was!”

“Well, obviously not,” the one in yellow said.

The child crossed his arms. “Tt. Father will not be so upset that we dealt with the problem in his absence.”

Nightwing reached out to reassure the smallest Bat. “Yeah, of course not.”

“Oh, we are so grounded,” the demon with the bo staff muttered.

The one in the red helmet snorted. “Nah, fuck this. B can’t ground us. We’re adults.” He sent a look to the smallest bat. “Or, most of us are, anyway.”

The approaching footsteps rang throughout the halls in a menacing rhythm, the person drawing ever nearer as the footfalls got louder.

Then, a dark clad figure rounded the corner, and the squabbling demons before them straightened up.

In the most bizarre turn of events Barry had ever witnessed, the once terror-inducing demons shuffled and started at their feet like a couple of guilty teenagers caught red-handed.

The person stopped before the demons. This one, Barry thought, had been mentioned by name in the masses of rumours that they had gone through. Batman. It would be an almost comical name if the person who it belonged to wasn’t so threatening.

Batman surveyed the scene in front of him with an indiscernible emotion before his eyes cut back to the demons. He grunted.

The effect was immediate. In an instant, the demons had started up again, apologies and shouting and arguments mixing together in a burst of sound.

The smallest pointed his finger at the one with the bo staff, who leapt forwards to tackle the child. He was stopped by Nightwing, who wrapped his unnaturally bendy body around the former in a restraining hug.

“Let go! I’ll bite you,” the Bat with the bo staff yelled at Nightwing, squirming in his grasp.

Then Nightwing let out a yelp as the Bat with the bo staff stomped on his foot and red helmet elbowed Nightwing in the gut. The child leapt at red helmet and from then on it was chaos, the group of demons full on brawling before an expressionless Batman.

There were screeches as the purple Bat whacked the red demon who had the bo staff in the shoulder with the clapperboard held in her hand, her purple directors hat falling off in the process. Then red helmet kicked Nightwing in the shin. On the other side the child with the katana’s fight was ended with the shadowy figure as the child – still grinning maniacally – was sent flying into red helmet, who caught the flying body and simply laughed in response. The one in the yellow helped up the child before shoving them into Nightwing with a grin, and Nightwing yelped out a quick “Hey!” before tackling the yellow one to the ground and proceeding to tickle him. The purple demon tackled Nightwing, and from then on Barry lost track of the endless flurry of limbs.

Batman grunted again, eyes narrowing behind his whiteout lenses, and the group split apart with only the one in the yellow having the decency to look ashamed.

“Explain,” Batman growled.

Red helmet exploded into action. “It was ‘Wing’s fault!”

“I concede, Father. It was Nightwing’s fault,” the child easily agreed.

“Hey!” Nightwing yelled. “If anything, it was Spoiler’s fault – this is all her idea.”

The purple one surged forward. “Oh, don’t bring me into this, you -”

She was tugged backwards by the shadowy demon, who muttered “Stay,” before letting go. Surprisingly, the purple one did as she was told, though she didn’t look happy about it. On the other hand, the shadowy demon was grinning widely from behind the material of her mask.

“Fine,” the purple demon muttered. Then, she brightened up. “It was the Justice League’s fault.”

“Yeah, they were the ones who came to Gotham!” red helmet added gleefully.

The red demon with the bo staff nodded along. “They are also the ones who kidnapped Nightwing.”

“We were merely rescuing him from captivity,” the child demon added on.

Barry watched warily as the Bat demons before them all started to readily agree with Purple’s statement. He certainly did not want to be on the receiving end of their anger.

Batman, however, just sighed wearily, raising his hand as if to pinch the bridge of his nose before lowering it again. Barry could almost sympathise with the terrifying demon.

“You’re grounded for a month,” Batman declared. Then, raising his voice to speak over the protests, he added, “All of you.”

Nightwing threw his arms up. “I don’t even live with you anymore. I’m an adult !”

“Come on B. Ya’ can’t ground me. You lost all grounding privileges when I died ,” Red helmet said with his arms crossed.

The red demon with the bo staff snorted, elbowing red helmet in the side. “You can’t use that excuse for everything.”

“It’s not an excuse!” Red helmet argued.

“Shush,” the purple one ordered. “We’re getting grounded right now. B, you can’t do this. Think of the children ,” she said dramatically.

Batman just looked at them. “Agent A will be enforcing the punishment.”

All protests were immediately silenced.

“Um -” Barry started, but he paused when all heads turned to him with an eerie synchronisation. He shrunk back into the group beneath the Bats’ hard stares.

Batman shot a look to the bo staff demon, and with a press of a button on his gauntlet, the lockdown was shut off, alongside the red sun lamps – to his left, Barry saw Superman sigh in relief.

“I apologise for their behaviour,” Batman said gruffly, as if it pained him to say such a thing.

Diana cleared her throat and ventured forwards. “Who are you?”

“Gotham vigilantes,” Batman stated, then offered his hand out. “I’m Batman.”

Diana shook his hand, then looked at the others expectantly.

The bat in the red helmet inclined his head. “Red Hood.”

Next went the demon with the bo staff, who paused his typing to wave at the crowd. “I’m Red Robin.”

“Spoiler,” greeted the Bat in purple, who gave a dramatic bow, sweeping her purple director’s hat off the floor and placing it atop her head.

The shadowy figure stepped forwards, her movements silent, as they had been for the entire interaction. “Blackbat,” she said, pointing at herself.

Then Blackbat pulled forward the yellow Bat, who smiled shyly at them. “Hi, I’m Signal.”

Last of all went the child. “Robin,” he introduced himself. Robin eyed them all critically. “Your combat skills are abysmal, as is your security.” Diana eyed the youngest with a steadily growing smile, and Barry hoped that she didn’t end up bringing Robin to train with the Amazons on Themyscira, regardless of his gender.

Multiple of the Bats snorted in amusement. “Baby bat,” Nightwing admonished.

“Wait a minute. What are you?” Hal interrupted, raising his hand like a preschooler would, to ask his question.

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Human.”

“Wait, seriously?” Barry asked, eyes practically bugging out of his skill. “Not demons?”

“No.”

Oliver stepped forwards. “But – but what about the – you know.” He waved his hands to encompass the room. “The blood, the creepiness, all of it.”

Batman merely grunted.

Nightwing laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to that.”