Chapter 1
The bustling sounds of the city tend to go through one ear and out the other. That could be said for most residents of a big city, but it was especially true for cab drivers.
“Where ya headin’?”
Jake Lockley, well-known cabby, eyes the passenger in the backseat. He reaches up to adjust the rear view mirror as the person clicks their seatbelt into place.
“Uh, Rockefeller Plaza, please,” she responds. Jake gives a curt nod, looking at his side mirrors before pulling back into traffic. Traffic in New York City was normal. If anything, it would be unnerving if the streets were completely empty.
“Traffic’s a bit worse today, ain’t it?” He chimes, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as the car inches forward bit by bit. His eyes narrow at the cars in front of them, the distant flashing of blue and red lights making him groan.
“A crash? Another drug dealing…?” He scoffs under his breath. The passenger in the back hums quietly, leaning around to take in the sight.
“Could be.”
Jake sighs. He looks around, wondering if there’s a shortcut coming up that he could weasel into. He knows his way around the city like the back of his hand. Before he could pull out of the lane, he notices a police officer coming down between the cars. He stops, letting the officer come to his window. Jake rolled the window down and raised a brow.
“What’s goin’ on, officer?” He asks, glancing back at the now visible row of cop cars lining the tunnels and bridges.
The officer wipes the sweat from his brow, surprising since it was a chilly night.
“Gotham’s— over in Jersey — getting evacuated. Some psycho’s planning on gasing the ‘ole place. Got some lowlifes staying back— thinks tha’ place is their territory now.”
Jake’s gaze narrows, hardening as he looks back to the cop. He gives a grunt and nods.
“I see. I don’t suppose you could help me escort my friend here to the plaza?”
Jake jabs a finger over his shoulder, gesturing to the woman in the backseat. The officer glances at the woman and gives a semi-nod of his head.
“Mmm, suppose I could. But it’d be a hassle, and I don't want the whole street thinking they can follow—“
“I’ve got family in Gotham,” Jake lied, giving the cop a pointed stare, “Jus’ wanna check on ‘em.”
The officer straightens up and hums, “All right, bud. Here, I’ll let the lady here get in my car and I’ll take ‘er to the plaza. You go and wait for your family, if they’re on one of the buses coming in. Don’t worry, we’ll handle your car.”
Jake nods and puts his cab in park. He shuts off the engine and gets out, opening the door for the woman.
“Don’t worry about paying me, lady. Just be safe,” he gives her a gruff smile and lets the cop lead her up the street. He waits until they’re out of sight and earshot before ducking into a nearby alley.
They’re gassing the entire city?
Jake groans, rubbing his eyes as Marc speaks up in his head.
Sounds serious. We should check it out.
“It’s not directly our business, Steven,” Jake grunts, snatching his newsboy cap from his head. His fingers wring the cap, twisting and bending the accessory as the other two bicker in his mind.
We could help, though. Did you see how many people were getting evacuated? This isn’t just some small threat.
Marc’s right, Jake. Go in, scan the scene. If it’s not that bad, we can come back and help with the evacuations.
Jake groans again, yet it’s not a sound of annoyance. It’s more so a sound of frustration— towards the sorry son-of-a-guns who decided to mess up his perfectly fine night. He shoves his cap back onto his head and pushes himself off of the brick wall.
“Okay, okay, I’m goin’. But if this ends up being a bust, I’m blaming you two.”
Marc and Steven didn’t respond, but Jake could physically feel them rolling their eyes.
-
“Well, damn it all to hell,” Jake groans, his eyes narrowing as he scans the abandoned streets of Gotham City. He’s perched atop the clock tower, his body as still as the gargoyles, save for the movement of his head. The streets are overrun with ruin, thugs and criminals skittering around like ants. His phone is in his hand, replaying the news broadcast from the few hours prior.
“This Scarecrow fella is a psycho,” Jake grumbles, gripping his phone as he listens to Scarecrow’s threat again. He sighs and stuffs the device into his pocket.
And ugly.
Jake gives a silent chuckle at Steven’s words, standing to his full height.
“Not wrong, Steven,” he mumbles, crossing his arms, “Marc? Whaddya think about this mess?”
Marc hums, his voice stern and serious.
I think it’s cruel and idiotic. We should help out. Find this guy.
Jake rubs his chin in thought, leaning forward against the railing of the clock tower. His eyes trail across the streets once more, listening to the barrage of gunshots and yells. He grunts, pushing himself up as he begins to walk backwards.
“Guess I’ll go interrogate some criminals— aw hell.”
He looks up as a shadow flies overhead. Jake ducks down, hoping whatever the hell that thing was wouldn’t spot him. He watches as a man clad in black lands on top of the clock tower. The man’s face is covered by a cowl, connected to the long cape draped behind him. Jake narrows his eyes behind his own mask.
Isn’t that— uh…that Batman guy? Protector of Gotham or whatever?
Jake gives a soft nod in response to Steven’s comment. He watches Batman kneel down and press something on his gauntlet. Suddenly, a small patch of the roof opens up and the masked-man disappears down the hole. Jake stands up and swiftly hops down before the hatch can close. That might’ve been a stupid idea, but he needed some sort of information to get started. Might as well get it straight from the source. Jake presses his back against the shoot, his feet pressed against the opposite wall. He shuffled down the wall quietly and slowly, his ears tuned in to the voices below.
“Oracle—“
Jake slides down a bit further to get a better listen. His eyes narrow as he hears a woman’s voice mix in with Batman’s.
Oracle? Sounds like she’s the informant.
Jake gives a low hum, slipping down more. He listens closely to the information being shared between Batman and this Oracle character.
Fear toxin?
Steven mumbles in the headspace. Jake shakes his head trying to focus on the Bat’s words and not Steven’s.
"Why didn't I see this? The reaction emits a unique radiation spike,” Oracle says, the sounds of keyboard keys clicking rapidly, “It'll take a few hours to bring the satellites into position." She and Batman continue to talk, going over the potential places the toxin could be contacted at.
Oracle sighs, “Bruce…I spoke to dad—“
Jake narrows his eyes and looks up, deciding now was a good time to leave. He didn’t want to listen in on some family drama. And he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear the Bat’s real name. He begins to push himself up the shoot, carefully placing one foot after the other. He did not need to slip and fall right now. Jake vaguely heard the Bat say something else, not really focusing on the context. Only when he heard the shuffling of fabric and the clanking of metal did he freeze. Suddenly, a grappling hook whizzes past his face. Jake’s eyes widened, gaze snapping down the shoot.
“Shit.”
Before he knew it, a larger body slammed into him. Both men are roughly shoved upwards. The rainy, night air surrounds Jake once more as he rolls onto the roof. His back hits the railing, stopping his tumbling. He grits his teeth, one hand pressing against the shingles as he pushes himself to kneel. He looks up as a shadow covers him, his brown eyes meeting piercing blue. Jake glares.
“Do you ever check for anyone before you do that?” He grumbles. Batman’s expression doesn’t change. He continues to stare at Jake, jaw set in a firm clench.
“Who do you work for?” Batman asks. Jake blinks before pushing himself onto his feet.
“What am I supposed to say, the Moon?”
Batman raises a brow. Jake huffs, “I work for the Moon.”
Batman looks up at the silver spectacle in the sky, arms crossed firmly over his broad chest. His gaze is sharp and narrow behind the cowl, senses on high alert.
“The Moon?” He echoes slowly. He doesn’t buy it…much.
Jake nods curtly, huffing, “Y’know Egyptian mythology, right? Khonshu, god of the moon…likes t’gamble—“
Jake Lockley.
Jake rolls his eyes as he hears Khonshu’s voice. Batman raises a brow and nods. Jake continues.
“He lives in m’head. Sorta. We work for him— his errand boy, basically.”
I am NOT an errand boy.
“…you said ‘we’…what does that insinuate?” Batman questions. Jake rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, a groan leaving his lips. He hates interrogations. Being interrogated is just as bad as doing the interrogating and listening to criminals stumble over words. Now, he has to actually explain himself. He hates explaining himself. He— including Marc and Steven for that matter —still haven’t figured out the best way to explain their situation.
“There’s three of us, in one body. Alters, is what most people call it.”
Batman hums at the explanation, “Dissociative Identity Disorder?” Jake nods, crossing his arms as well. The two stare at each other in silence before the Bat speaks again, “I’ve never seen you before. Why are you in Gotham?”
Jake turns his head to survey the ruins of Gotham’s streets once more, “I work as a cabby in New York. Saw ‘em bringing in the evacuees. Cop told me about this Scarecrow guy’s threat. Marc and Steven thought we should come and offer support.”
The Bat is silent. Marc and Steven? Must be the alters. Batman turns to follow Jake’s gaze, his expression hardening. A few hours until the satellites were in place— he still needed to go talk to Jim. He heaves a sigh and glances sideways at Jake, “I’ll take us to the police station. We can talk more there.”
Jake turns his head back to Batman, “Sounds good t’me.”
-
Chasing a Militia car was not exactly a part of the route to the GCPD. However, nothing can ever be simple when the Batmobile is barreling down the streets.
“I am never riding in that again,” Jake heaves as Batman lets him out of the backseat, his hands grabbing the side of the Batmobile, “Who taught you how to drive?”
“Follow me.”
Jake’s eyes narrow as he watches the Bat approach one of the abandoned penthouses in Chinatown, “Right.”
He catches up with Batman, eyeing the neon signs and decor around the square, “Thought we were heading to the police department?”
Batman pushes against the door, huffing as he feels it budge against the lock. He looks up, making out barely noticeable voices from a few feet above. His hand moves to his side, grasping the grapple gun. The hook shoots upward, Batman being pulled up by the cable. Jake blinks, his hands outstretched in disbelief.
“Hey, the hell!? Context would be great!” He shouts, pushing him up to climb the wall. He grabs onto the railing of the balcony and huffs. His eyes narrow as he hears glass shatter and the vague voices turn into loud yells. Jake grumbles and sprints forward, jumping up onto the side building, slipping into the fight. His boot meets one of the mens’ face, a sickening crunch heard beneath his shoe. The man stumbles back with a shout, one hand cradling his broken nose, the other hand tightening its grip on the baseball bat he held. Jake’s knee slams into the man’s stomach, his hand ripping the baseball bat away. The bat hits the top of the man’s temple, his body crumpling to the ground. Jake stepped back, glancing over his shoulder. The rest of the men laid across the room in similar crumpled positions. He hums and called out.
“Batman? Buddy?” He sighs, “Damn, he’s silent…”
Jake turns on his heel and starts towards the double doors, shoving them open with his shoulder. His eyes fall to Batman, talking to a woman with fiery red hair, ivy like markings on her skin, and a little less clothing than Jake was comfortable with. He clears his throat and leans against the doorway. The woman leans around Batman, raising a brow, “Friend of yours?”
Batman turns to look at Jake, grunting, “His name is—“
Jake raises a hand, “Moon Knight.”
“He’s here to help. Or so he says,” Batman explains. Jake rolls his eyes and looks the lady up and down, analyzing the peculiarity of her appearance. She smirks, nodding, “Seems Robin got booted out this time?”
“Robin?” Jake asks. Batman waves him off. Jake huffs, turning to study the leaking ceiling. He listened to the drip-drop of water, a vague scent of mold making his nose upturn. His attention turns back to Batman and the red-headed woman. She follows Batman as they begin to leave, Batman’s hand gripping hers tightly. She cranes her head back to look at Jake as he pushes himself to follow.
“Ivy. A pleasure to meet you, Moon Knight.”
Jake studies Ivy’s features, noting the strange markings about her skin. His eyes follow her arm as she reaches out towards a plant on the balcony, vines wrapping their way around her limb. He gives an amused laugh.
“Ivy…fitting,” he comments as they reach the Batmobile. Jake’s stomach already begins to churn at the thought of riding in that tank-like car again. Ivy’s placed in the backseat, the seat retracting back into the car. Jake raises a brow, “No room for me now?”
Batman hops into the front seat, “You’ll find your way,” he says, after tossing Jake a bat-com, and the car speeds off. Jake catches the communicator, turning the device over his hand.
“…this guy has t’be loaded.” He pockets the bat-com and plugs in the earpiece. Batman’s voice fills his head, along with another man’s voice. Jake begins to slip through the alleys, listening in on the conversation.
Commissioner Gordon. Heard about him before.
Marc chimes in. Jake hums inwardly, “Thought I’d lost you two. Haven't spoken in a bit.”
Shut up and listen.
Jake focuses back on the voices in the earpiece. Gordon wasn’t speaking anymore, it was now Batman and the informant, Oracle, from before.
“Moon Knight, do you copy?” Batman asks. Jake clears his throat, “Loud and clear.”
Oracle speaks up next, “So you’re the eavesdropper? Nice to meet you, Moon Knight.”
Jake gives a wry grin as he leans around an alley wall. He eyes some militia men, voice low, “It’s a pleasure.”
His eyes narrow to get a better glimpse of the militia. He watches a couple of the men wire the tank back together, the engine roaring to life.
Must’ve been the one we chased down earlier.
“Moon Knight, do you need directions?” Oracle speaks up again. Jake’s line is quiet, save for the sudden sound of fighting and gunshots. When Moon Knight eventually responds, Batman and Oracle can distinctly hear a change in his voice.
“Sorry, mates, Jake got a little trigger-happy,” an accented voice drawls. Batman narrows his eyes at the new tone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he rounds a corner, “Marc or Steven?”
“Steven,” the Brit chimes, “with a V.”
Oracle snorts, “Nice to meet you, Steven. Batman was telling me about your…situation…?” She trails off quietly, not wanting to say something potentially offensive. Steven snorts, “Mhm, good to know.”
He narrows his eyes and kneels to pat down the unconscious militia. He looks over some papers and items, not finding anything worth further inspection. He sighs and pushes himself up, heading in the direction of the GCPD.
“Directions would be great, though, Oracle,” he confirms. Oracle starts to guide Steven through the streets, successfully getting him to the police department without another hitch. He walks inside, spotting Batman talking with Commissioner Gordon. He heads over, quietly standing beside the Bat.
“Cash, give me a run down,” Batman says to the police officer at the desk.
“Right. There’s a buncha murders across the city— the bodies are spread out in separate areas. They’ve been mutilated, strung up crudely,” Officer Cash gestures to the screen, showing the picture of the body on the bridge. Steven’s brows knit together. He vaguely pays attention to the rest of the disorders across the city. He crosses his arms and huffs, “Right, so there’s more blokes out and about causing trouble. Are we not worried about the fear toxin?”
Cash blinks, “I— well—“
The Bat interrupts, “We are. But some of these can potentially have evidence related to Scarecrow’s plans.”
He turns back to Gordon and Cash, continuing their conversation. Steven sighs and turns to survey the surroundings. He soon finds himself in front of Ivy’s cell. She smirks, leaning against the glass wall.
“Nice to see you again.”
Steven shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “Chuffed to see you as well.”
Ivy blinks, her eyes narrowing, “Now, what’s this? You sound different.” Steven clears his throat, “Ah…right. He probably didn’t see a point in telling you,” he explains the D.I.D once more, watching as Ivy’s face morphed into a curious expression.
“Well, well. Interesting…you practically fit right in,” she purrs. Steven rolls his eyes beneath the mask, “Funny.”
“Moon Knight,” Batman calls. Steven turns and pushes away from Ivy’s cell. Ivy smiles, “See you later, Moon Knight.”
Steven walks off, meeting up with Batman once more as he leads Steven through the jail.
“So…British, huh?” Batman asks. Steven nods, “Astute observation, mate.”
The two ignore all the prisoners yelling at Batman. The Bat turns to Steven once more, “You go investigate the bodies strung up around the city. I’ll go check the satellites and see if we can get a read on where Scarecrow is making the toxin.”
Steven looks up as they exit the jail, eyes lingering on the moon, “All right, but don’t you think we should leg it together?”
Steven is promptly cut off by the Batmobile’s engine roaring to life, the vehicle speeding off out of the garage. Steven crosses his arms, “…right,” he begins to exit the garage himself, "Just what I was thinking.”