Chapter 6
Steve grabs an earpiece and switches it on, “Batman respond.”
"Trap." Bruce's voice is clipped and ragged. Heavy breathing echoes over the open line, too tightly controlled to be normal.
"What's your status?"
"Robin is gone."
Steve feels his heart jump into his throat. Next to him he can hear the crunch of Bucky squeezing the arm of his chair too hard. The flimsy plastic giving away to his panicked grip.
"What?" Steve's voice comes out as more a shocked rasp than he means it too. Dick, boundlessly energetic Dick can't just be gone. It’s impossible, Steve refuses to believe it.
"Joker," Bruce grunts. They can hear him moving, fighting through the pain. "Joker took him."
Took. Not killed. Steve and Bucky share a look; there’s still hope.
"I'm on my way back to the cave," Bruce says roughly.
"What happened to you?"
"Stabbed," Bruce grunts, "Explain more at the cave. Batman out."
The line cuts off before Steve can ask him where he was stabbed and just how badly he's bleeding. Bucky is already moving to the well-stocked medical supply cabinet, grabbing disinfectant and thread.
Steve spins his chair back to the computer and starts typing. Bruce, in a fit of parental wisdom, had a tracker sewn into every uniform Dick has. Dick had complained about the intrusion on his privacy and Bruce had threatened to sew trackers into his daywear as well. Steve isn't fully convinced that Bruce didn't follow through on the threat.
A map of Gotham pops up on the screen. With a few more clicks Steve pulls up a green flashing dot and breathes a sigh of relief. Green means vital signs are within normal perimeters.
As Steve watches the dot, Krypto bounds down the stairs, Clark shouting at him to heel all the way. The shouts and barking both die away as Clark enters the cave. His eyes move between Dick’s tracker on the screen and the medical supplies Bucky is holding.
"What happened?" Clark asks.
"The Joker has Dick," Steve says, "Bruce is on his way back now."
"And Bruce was stabbed," Bucky adds.
Clark turns back to the map. The dot is heading out of the city. He could be at their location in minutes. His feet leave the ground.
"No." Steve says his eyes not leaving the screen, "Bruce didn't give us the go ahead and he mentioned a trap. Nobody goes and risks making a hostage situation worse until we have more information."
Clark lands back on the ground. The three men stand in stiff silence, staring intently at the green dot onscreen; all the proof they have that Dick is still alive. The batmobile rumbles as it pulls into the cave. Bruce stumbles out, his face pale under the cowl. Dark red drips from beneath a makeshift bandage around his shoulder and there's a slight limp as he moves across the room. He focuses on the green dot with a desperate pair of eyes.
"What happened?" Clark asks as he steadies him. Bucky begins peeling away the bandage and disinfecting the deep slice. Bruce hardly notices the sting.
"It was a trap. The Joker and Mr. Freeze were waiting for us." Bruce growls, "they went straight for Dick."
"Why?" Bucky asks.
"Because the Joker is sick," Bruce growls, "and he wanted to make sure I'd follow him."
The dot stops just outside of the city limits. Bruce's expression darkens.
"Bruce?" Clark prompts after a few moments of silence.
"What happens when you phone a clown three times?" Bruce says softly.
"Pardon?"
Bruce jerks as if remembering the others are there.
"The last thing Joker said before I passed out," Bruce says, "and what you get is a three-ring circus."
All eyes drift back to the map.
"The old circus grounds," Clark says. Bruce nods.
"Let's go."
"Woah pal, you got stabbed," Bucky says stepping in front of him. "Why don't you stay here and man the comms."
Bruce glares at him, "No."
He steps around Bucky who catches him by his good arm.
"I patched you up, but you can't actually fight like this."
“Yes, I can,” Bruce snaps, tugging his arm away, “You and Superman are not enough for someone like The Joker.”
“Bruce you can trust us,” Steve says, “We’ll get Dick back.”
Bruce turns and fixes Steve with a hard stare, “You are staying here.”
"But I ca-"
“No you can’t!” Bruce interrupts, “Not with Dick’s life on the line. What if you have an asthma attack or your allergies act up? You could blow the whole mission.”
Steve opens his mouth, but Bruce isn't done.
“You’re going to get Dick killed if you go out there trying to be someone you’re not anymore.”
Steve’s cheeks heat up with embarrassment. He’s knows Bruce doesn’t mean it like that, knows that Bruce is terrified about Dick and lashing out. That doesn’t stop it from hurting though. Steve swallows down the pain; he can worry about his feelings later. Right now, with Dick’s life on the line, they don’t have time for this.
“I’ll man the comms, you guys go.” Steve says.
"Bruce still can't go. He's been stabbed," Clark says.
"It's my son. Just try to stop me," Bruce growls. He sweeps across the room before anyone can stop him, jumping back into the batmobile and peeling out.
"Steve..." Bucky starts but Steve shakes his head.
"He's not thinking clearly. Go out and make sure he doesn't get himself killed," Steve says, "both of you, go."
Steve watches them leave. Anxiety gnaws at him as he takes his seat in front of the computer. Bruce is injured and afraid and that makes him a liability in the field. He shouldn’t be out, but trying to talk Bruce out of racing to Dick’s side would be like trying to talk a young Steve Rogers out of joining the army. He can only hope that Bucky and Clark can hold Bruce together long enough to rescue Dick.
Steve puts on the headphones and listens in over the comms. Bruce is silent, save for the occasional grunt when he moves his injured arm too fast. Clark can be heard quietly filling Bucky in on the abandoned circus grounds of Gotham. After The Joker first showed up, clowns and the circus motif’s took a serious dive in popularity. With business drying up most traveling circuses avoided the city as much as possible, Dick’s former home being the rare exception. A mistake that no other circus has repeated since.
Bruce pulls up to the circus grounds. He races to the brightly colored tent, ignoring Steve’s voice in his ear that commands him to wait and tells him that Bucky and Clark are only minutes away. This isn’t their fight; it’s his.
Shortly after, Clark and Bucky land to an eerily silent circus. Above them looms a giant tent with faded red and yellow stripes. Smaller tents and rickety booths dot the abandoned grounds. Bucky rolls his shoulders, feeling tense and unbalanced by the unsettling atmosphere. Even as a kid he’s never cared for circuses – though he’d die before telling that to Dick – there’s just something about all the bright lights and sparkling costumes. It feels fake; like a lie.
"Batman report," Clark demands.
Silence.
"Batman? Batman!" Clark says. Bucky and Clark share worried looks. Then Clark shoots into the air towards the big top. Bucky takes off running behind him. From over the comms, Steve urges them to be cautious but neither are paying attention. Adrenaline and fear push the onwards.
They burst into the tent teeth bared and ready for a fight. It’s empty. Clark lands, looking around the large circular room. Along the edges are empty benches and, in the middle, where performers once stood, is a lead coffin. On top is sits an envelope. Bucky and Clark run over and Clark tears it open. In messy red scrawl he reads.
“What type of circus performer performs best at night?"
Bucky shrugs, frowning. Clark reads it again.
"Acro-bats." Steve's voice crackles over the comm. Bucky and Clark stare at the coffin lid as it clicks.
"Batman." Clark grabs the lid and pushes with all his might. His mind races as he thinks off all the potential things he might find inside. Does the casket have air holes? Does it matter at this point? He pushes against the lid. It tips away clattering to the ground. A wave of nausea washes over Clark. Inside, a mannequin in a poorly made batman costume lay. Surrounding him, kryptonite glows a neon green.
"No!" Clark stumbles back. His head spins and his stomach flips over as he tries to keep his balance. Bucky grabs lid, trying to pull it back into place. An sudden icy beam hits the coffin lid, freezing it solid. Bucky grunts, dropping it as Mr. Freeze steps into view. He’s not Bucky’s first pick of a villain to fight, but one glance at Clark and he knows there’s no other choice.
Mr. Freeze is surprisingly spry for a man who walks around in a suit straight out of a dime store sci-fi novel, but Bucky is faster. Cold air ruffles his hair as he dodges another icy blast. He grabs the frozen lid and uses it as a shield, knocking the gun out of Mr. Freeze’s hands. Bucky grabs him by the collar.
"Where are Batman and Robin?" He growls. Mr. Freeze smirks.
"Why so angry?" He asks, "I think you need to chill out."
He giggles at his own cleverness, even as Bucky gives him a rough shake. Mr. Freeze drops his hand into his pocket. Bucky doesn’t notice, distracted over his worry for his missing teammates. A small blue pistol is tugged free of the pocket. Mr. Freeze smirks, and then he fires. Bucky yelps as frost crystalizes across his chest. He drops Mr. Freeze as memories rush over him.
He's cold, so cold. Hydra always keeps him cold. Even when they thaw him out, he's never really warm. He stares at the ice covering his body. Hydra must be putting him back in cryo-freeze. He must have completed his mission. He can't remember what it was...Something- no, someone- is screaming in his ear. He blinks. It's Steve's voice, demanding an update from anyone. Through the haze Bucky tries to reply.
"Icy..." he mumbles.
"Bucky! Buck, focus." Steve says in his ear, "What is happening? Are you ok? Are the others?"
Bucky blinks. He’s not in a cryo-tube, he’s in an abandoned circus. He’s in Gotham, far from Hydra’s reach. Steve is still talking in his ear, still demanding a report.
“It’s not good,” Bucky says. Out of the corner of his eye he spots movement. Mr. Freeze is going for his freeze ray. Bucky pulls himself together and dives for it. He’s too slow. Ice frosts over his skin. He stares at it, mesmerized. Mr. Freeze pulls the trigger again and more ice wraps itself around him. He’s so cold. He can’t stop shivering. His legs re frozen into place. Mr. Freeze fires again and Bucky gasps for breath as his chest freezes. This is just like the cryo-tube. He chokes. He’s back with hydra. He’s at the circus. Steve is shouting from a train as Bucky falls. Steve is shouting in his ear over the comms. He has to focus. He can’t.
"Goodbye Sergeant," Mr. Freeze sneers. Bucky looks around desperately. The only thing he sees is Clark, lying on the ground unconscious, bathed in the green glow of kryptonite. Mr. Freeze pulls the trigger. Bucky screams, then everything goes black.
"Hello? Hello?" Steve's voice echoes over the silent comms. He sits back in the chair with a grim expression on his face. Best case scenario; they’ve all been captured. Worst case…Steve would rather not think about that. His team, his friends need him; to save them or avenge them, Steve’s not sure which yet. Either way, he can’t stay here. He takes off the headset and grabs one of Dick's domino masks. Krypto perks up from his place by Steve's chair.
"Come on Krypto," Steve says standing up, "we’ve got work to do."