Chapter 1
The Joker's laugh echoes throughout the streets of Gotham, crazy and cruel. It rings in Bruce’s ears as he chases him through the endless maze of back alleyways.
“Robin report.” Bruce grunts as he leaps over a fallen trash can. Over the comms, Dick updates him on the status of his ongoing fight with Mr. Freeze on the other side of the city. Dick’s abruptly cut off as he’s tossed from the roof. Bruce’s heart stutters, though he never breaks his stride.
“I’m okay.” Dick says after a few agonizing moments of silence and Bruce feels like he can breathe again. He has his misgivings about letting Dick tackle someone like Mr. Freeze alone, but Dick has been pushing for more independence in the field recently. Steve and Bucky’s influence no doubt; filling his head with stories of Brooklyn and the war.
“Hurry up Batsy!” The Joker cackles as he rounds a corner, “The show is about to begin!”
Bruce races around the corner. Immediately something wraps around his legs and he stumbles. He looks down at the tangle of vines weaving their way up to his waist. He grabs a baterang and with a flick of his wrist cuts himself loose. Poison Ivy, The Joker, and Mr. Freeze. Three supervillains working together. Tonight has officially become a Code Orange; a Justice League level threat.
“Code Orange. This is a Code Orange.” Bruce reports into his comms, “Poison Ivy has just joined the fight.”
“I will alert the Justice League sir.” Alfred’s voice is comforting in his ear.
Bruce doesn't bother to reply as he once again takes off after The Joker, determined not to lose him.
A new voice enters the comms.
"This is The Captain. We are in route to you now."
Bruce can hear wind in the background. Clark must be flying them.
"Robin is handling Mr. Freeze on the Southside. Poison Ivy is on Lark Street, and I am pursuing The Joker west." Bruce reports.
"Sarge and I will take Poison Ivy. Superman will give Robin backup before making his way to you." Steve's voice is authoritative and calming.
Bruce closes in on The Joker as he ducks into an abandoned balloon factory. It’s one of the few bases he’s been using, but not his main base. Bruce still hasn’t managed to find that yet.
Over the comms he hears Dick cheer, distant and tinny, the arrival of Superman. He lets out a sigh of relief. Dick is safe with Clark. With one less worry on his shoulders, Bruce speeds up, devoting all his attention to the task at hand.
"It's over Joker. Superman, The Captain, and Sarge are rounding up your companions as we speak." Bruce growls, "it's back to Arkham for you."
The factory is dim and The Joker disappears into the long shadows. Bruce slows down looking for any hint of that ghastly gin.
"Oh are the boy scouts here already?" The Joker laughs and his voice bounces off machinery, "perfect."
Bruce spins and sees The Joker by a broken conveyer belt, his grin razer sharp. Bruce’s blood freezes at the sight of that smirk. The Joker shouldn't be happy. With an unexpected gracefulness, The Joker scales the machinery and leaps onto the rusted catwalks above. Bruce doesn’t hesitate to follow him into the darkness.
"I've been waiting for you to call in the goody two shoes calvary all night.” The Joker says conversationally, “I've been dying to play with them."
For a heartbeat Bruce is still as The Joker's words sink in. In his own weird way, The Joker is almost as protective of Gotham as Batman is. Having other heroes in the mix would only ruin the sick twisted game that The Joker thinks the two of them are playing. No, there is only one reason The Joker would tolerate other heroes in his city. Bruce leaps into action. He sprints towards The Joker, shouting into the comms.
"Superman pull back. They have kryptonite."
Clark's reply is drowned out by Joker's howling glee.
"You are just too funny Bats." The Joker chuckles and Bruce's hand clenches with a desire to punch that smug look off his face. Bruce doesn’t answer, just growls his disgust for the man, as he reaches for him. The Joker flips over the side of the catwalk, leaving Bruce’s fist to close on nothing but air.
From down below The Joker looks up at him, his eyes glowing with malice.
“You’re so busy worrying about your boy in blue, you’re forgetting to protect your toy soldiers.”
Suddenly Bucky’s shouting in his ear.
"Cap's down! I need backup!"
Bruce spins on his heal. He can hear The Joker getting away, but it doesn’t matter. Worry twists in his stomach. It’s a new feeling. Only a few short months ago, the alert would have warranted nothing more than mild concern. The kind of professional worry one got when a coworker calls in with the flu. Certainly not worth losing the chance to capture The Joker over. He’s still not sure how to handle these new feelings where his team is concerned.
Bruce is the closest to where Bucky and Steve were fighting, but he’s still the last to arrive. Clark glances up at him, his face grim. Dick looks downright alarmed as he stares at Steve’s ashen face. Bucky doesn’t acknowledge his presence as he monitors Steve’s pulse.
Bruce does a quick scan of Steve’s unconscious body. There’s a sheen of sweat covering his face and his breathing is strained, but at least he’s breathing. There’s no blood either, another good sign.
“What happened?” Bruce asks. He stops next to Bucky, who looks positively murderous.
"We were fighting Poison Ivy and she blew I don’t know - pollen or something - at Cap and then he just collapsed."
"I thought the serum protected him from that type of thing." Clark says.
"It's supposed to." Bucky grunts.
"Superman take him back to the cave. We'll meet you there. I want to run blood tests." Bruce says.
Gently Clark scoops Steve up. He hangs there limply, his head rolling back. Tucked tight against Clark’s chest, he looks unnaturally small. Bruce looks away. It feels wrong to see someone as strong as Steve look so vulnerable. From the way Dick and Clark avert their eyes it’s clear they feel the same. Only Bucky seems able to stomach the sight.
Clark flies off, still cradling Steve like a child. Silently, the others head to the batmobile. The drive back is tense. Worry stifles any attempts at conversation. Bucky barely waits for the car to stop before leaping out. He halts next to one of the medical cots Bruce keeps in the cave for emergencies.
"His heartbeat is steady, but his breathing has gotten worse," Clark reports, "I x-rayed him but couldn't find anything useful."
Bruce nods. He crosses the room to a cabinet labeled "medical supplies" in Alfred’s neat handwriting. After a bit of rummaging he pulls out the medkit. He takes out alcohol wipes and a needle. Three sets of worried eyes watch him as he pricks Steve’s skin. Blood, bright red, fills the syringe. Then, just to be safe, Bruce takes a few more vials.
He takes a vial to the computer and begins typing. Clark and Dick hover over his shoulder. Bucky doesn’t leave Steve’s side. Instead he takes a seat in the fold out chair by Steve’s head. After a few seconds his hand reaches out and wraps itself around Steve’s clammy hand.
Bruce shifts uncomfortably. He's never had the cave so filled with people before.
"Go inform Alfred of the situation." Bruce says gruffly to Dick. Dick hesitates with a glance at Steve.
"Go on," Bruce says gently, "it will take a while for the computer to give us any results."
With a nod Dick scampers towards the stairs.
"You should head back to Metropolis." Bruce says to Clark. He keeps his eyes firmly on the computer. He doesn't want to see the worry shining on Clark's overly expressive face.
"I can't leave now."
"In 4 hours and 23 minutes the Daily Planet will open. Clark Kent needs to be there. It's suspicious that you and Steve always call in sick on the same day, especially when it's the day after Superman and The Captain have been seen out."
Clark frowns, his eyes straying to Steve, who hasn’t moved since he was laid on the bed.
"I will call you if his condition changes." Bruce promises. Bucky looks up from his vigil over Steve to give Clark an encouraging nod.
"I'll be back after work." Clark says, guilt at abandoning them now thick in his voice. Bruce nods, expecting as much. He suspects it will be a while before his cave returns to its normal status as a fortress of solitude.
"And Clark," Bruce adds, "whatever cover story you come up with for Steve, let it be something that will keep him out of work a while."
Apprehension engrains itself deeper into Clark's face but he agrees to do so before flying back. Silence descends over the cave, broken only by the fluttering of bat wings above.
"I'm not leaving him,” Bucky says breaking the silence, “so if you're thinking of a way to kick me out, forget about it."
Bruce glances over at him. Bucky has fished a cloth out of the medkit and is mopping Steve's brow with it. It's strangely intimate and Bruce finds himself averting his eyes so as to not intrude on the private moment.
"I wouldn't." Bruce says.
Bucky stares at him, assessing his honesty before nodding. He turns back to Steve and the cave lapses back into silence. Of all his new teammates Bucky is the quietest. Steve has a friendly way about him that invites conversation and Clark’s midwestern roots show strongly in his ability to idly chitchat about anything. Then there’s Dick whose chattiness is unparalleled. Bruce and Bucky are the only two who savor the silence for what it is, with no need to sully it with words.
Bruce stares at the computer screen, comparing the new blood samples with the ones he already has on file. So far, he sees no difference between the two and nothing that warrants Steve's current state of unconsciousness. This requires more in-depth tests.
Alfred's and Dick’s mismatched footfalls pull Bruce away from the screen. He gives his butler and ward a tired smile.
"How is he?" Dick whispers.
"The same." Bruce says, "you should go to bed."
"I'm not sleepy" Dick insists. Bruce gives him a skeptical look but doesn't argue. He understands, he doesn’t feel much like sleeping either at the moment.
"Alright, take a seat." Bruce says turning back to his computer. Dick pulls up a chair. Alfred forgoes his usual offering of tea and places a large mug of black coffee next to Bruce’s elbow. Bruce nods his thanks.
“Let me know if you require any further services,” Alfred says, his eyes lingering on Steve’s still form, “or if there is a change in Captain Roger’s status.”
“I will,” Bruce says. He takes a sip of his coffee. The bitterness burns as it goes down, chasing away any post-mission tiredness.
"What's wrong with him?" Dick asks.
Bruce starts the computer scanning the next the vial of blood, adding more tests as he goes.
"Not sure yet."
"Is he going to be okay?"
Bruce doesn't answer. He can't answer that. He promised himself that he would never lie about or minimize the risks of the job to Dick. If Dick is going to be involved in this life, he deserves to go in with eyes open. And the truth is, sometimes people die. Dick has already had a taste of that. There are mugging victims they arrive too late for and the Joker almost always leaves a trail of death in his wake. This would be the first time losing a teammate though. This loss will cut deeper and Bruce isn't sure he knows how to guide Dick through it.
In the face of Bruce's non-answer Dick goes quiet. Bruce runs more tests which all come back negative. A few hours later, with his eyes burning from lack of sleep, he glances over at Dick.
He's asleep, curled up on the chair with his cape draped over him. He looks so small. Not for the first time Bruce wonders what he was thinking bringing someone into this life. He adjusts the cape around Dicks shoulders and glances over at Bucky.
His head is bent low and Bruce can’t see his face, but he's sitting far too stiffly for him to be anything but awake. Bruce opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. There is no good news he can offer and any platitudes will fall flat. He closes his mouth. The best thing he can do is find out what is causing Steve's unconsciousness. He pushes away the exhaustion and gets back to work.