Chapter 6
Steve knows that every mission there’s a period of time where there’s nothing more that can be done except wait. Wait for details from the front lines, wait for the enemy to make their next move, wait for reinforcements. Steve has never been very good with these periods. It was Bucky who sat with him in the old days, keeping up a running commentary of camp gossip as they played cards and bartered their cigarettes away for extra rations of chocolate. In more recent times it was Sam or occasionally Natasha who would distract him by catching him up on pop culture he had missed or trying to set him up on increasingly outlandish dates. Now though, he has nobody. He had briefly considered seeking out Superman, but had just as quickly dismissed it. Superman is great, but he isn’t a teammate. He only knows The Captain and not Steve Rogers.
“Steve? You ok?”
Steve looks up to see Clark looking at him with concern. Steve sets down his pencil, which he realizes he was seconds away from snapping and grins.
“Sorry, lost in thought.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Steve shakes his head, “No it’s nothing. Just looking forward for the weekend is all.”
Steve glances at the clock, only a few more hours. Clark looks like he wants to say more but stops frowning.
“I…um…I have to go. Just thought of something for my next article.” He mumbles hurrying out and tugging at his tie. Jimmy is convinced it’s a girl, but every time Steve has seen Clark leave it’s always with a look of worry. Lois thinks Clark has convinced someone to be a snitch for him. Steve’s not so sure about that theory either. He should talk to Clark though about it, he’d hate to see him get in over his head. But that’s a mystery for another day. Clark returns just before the day is over, looking satisfied.
The clock strikes five and Steve is the first one out the door. He doesn’t bother stopping at Jimmy’s apartment, instead heading straight to the train station. He books the last evening train to Gotham and finds an empty seat near the rear of the train. He plays with his portfolio bag, feeling the rim of his shield just beneath the canvas.
He has a few hours before he reaches his destination; Steve begins planning his hunt for Batman. Not for the first time he misses the ease of internet access and smartphones of the twenty first century. Instead he’s left with a notebook filled with everything he was able to find out about Batman. It’s sparse and most of it comes from Jimmy, but Jimmy has been right about Superman so Steve is willing to trust his judgment now too. He flips to his first list titled “Known facts about Batman” and reads through the list again.
- Expert in several forms of martial arts.
- Never takes off his mask and rarely speaks.
- Witnesses report several gadgets and advanced pieces of technology.
It’s a very short list. Criminals rarely see what hit them and the people he saves can only give the vaguest of details. The martial arts and the technology are the two constants he can see. He flips to the second list titled “Theories and speculations.”
- Possibly a modern day super soldier?
- Independently wealthy or has a rich benefactor to afford his gear?
- Possibly part bat?
The last one is a bit out there but Steve fought on a team that consisted of a Norse God and a green abomination that was also a brilliant scientist, so he’s not ruling anything out. However, he finds himself leaning more towards his first two theories. America is at war again and he wouldn’t put it past the government to have another go at making another super soldier, although that wouldn’t explain what he was doing in Gotham and not with the military. He has to be rich though, or at least know someone who is funding him. Steve hung around Tony enough to know that spare parts for gadgets and super suits don’t come cheap.
Steve doodles a picture of batman in the corner of the page. The train pulls into Gotham station and Steve grabs his bag and heads out. Privately, he is a little excited to see this world’s version of his home city. The train station is worn down and covered in a thick layer of grime, nothing like the Metropolis train station had been like. Steve walks down city streets lined with buildings that had seen better days. Gotham reminds him more of the Brooklyn of his youth than his modern day New York City. Steve heads straight to the seediest part of the city where Batman is most often reported. Then, Steve throws his shield. It clangs off several fire escapes and buildings before returning to him. Steve has a hunch that Batman is far more territorial than Superman. Steve casually throws it again, trying to bounce it off the things that will make the most noise as he bounces from rooftop to rooftop.
A figure seems to melt out of the shadows. Steve stows his shield on his back.
“Batman.” He says. He sizes up the man in front of him and suspects that Batman is doing the same.
“Captain.” Batman’s voice is gruff and low.
“You read the Metropolis newspapers?” Steve asks. He’s only been in the papers twice. He hardly thinks that warrants enough clout to gain a reputation around here.
“I do when the stories are concerning someone saving Superman.” Batman says bluntly and narrows his eyes, “Now what are you doing here?”
“I’m following up on a lead from Metropolis.” Steve says, “It seemed only polite that I invite you along. This is your city.”
“What’s the situation?”
“Superman and I busted a Nazi cell in Metropolis. I found a Gotham address and I think they might have been shipping some of the stolen cash out to a sister cell in Gotham.”
“Give me the lead and I’ll take care of it.” Batman says, but Steve shakes his head.
“Sorry, not that I doubt your abilities, but I want to see this through to the end.” Steve says. Batman glares.
“I’m not like Superman. I don’t do team ups.”
“Fine, then I’ll handle it myself.” Steve says, “Sorry to bother you.”
He turns to leave and feels Batman’s eyes following him as he strolls away. Steve flips over the side of the building and into the alleyway. If he hurries, he’ll be able to make it to Canal Street before midnight. Batman lands with a hard thump in front of him, blocking his way.
“Excuse me, but I’m a in a bit of a hurry,” Steve says, but his hand inches towards his shield.
“I also don’t let people run around pretending to be heroes in my city. Gotham isn’t like Metropolis. You’ll get yourself killed.” Batman says.
“I appreciate your concern, but I promise I’ll be fine.” Steve says, and then adds, “Believe me, I’ve been fighting Nazis for a very long time.”
Batman doesn’t move.
“I really don’t want to have to fight you,” Steve says, “but I’m not going to let you stop me.”
Batman darts forward. Steve blocks with the shield. The hit wasn’t strong, more of a tap. Batman is testing him and Steve is happy to oblige. Steve throws his shield just past Batman’s head and follows up with slow punch that he knows Batman will side step. Placing him directly in the path of Steve’s returning shield. The shield lands a solid blow to Batman’s shoulder. He grunts but a brief look of satisfaction crosses his face. Batman throws a punch that forces Steve on his back heels to avoid. Steve gives a low leg sweep and Batman jumps. Steve speeds up and Batman matches him blow for blow. He’s good, clearly an expert. Steve would have loved to see Batman go one on one with Natasha.
“So, am I passing your test?” Steve asks, dodging another blow.
“You’re doing better than expected.” Batman grunts.
“I’ll take that as high praise,” Steve says. He flips Batman who lands on his feet and aims a kick to Steve’s knee. Steve blocks.
“Not that I wouldn’t love to continue sparring,” Steve says, “But I don’t have time for this tonight. Nazi cells don't bust itself.”
He pins Batman to the wall.
“Fine, you can come with me.” Batman says shortly. Steve lets him go.
“How magnanimous of you.”
Working with Batman is not like working with Superman. Teaming up with Superman felt like, well, a team up, two people working side by side for a common goal. Teaming up with Batman feels like teaming up with a disgruntled shadow that would prefer Steve to leave and never come back.
Steve leaps across rooftops and Batman, while keeping to the shadows, matches every step. Every once in a while Steve will catch a glimpse of a cape before it disappears seamlessly into darkness. Steve stops on the roof of an old factory, indistinguishable from the many other abandoned factories and warehouses that overflowed from this section of Gotham.
“This is the place,” Steve says to the shadow he last saw Batman disappear into, “We need a plan."
“I have a plan.” The shadow rumbles. Steve waits for Batman to elaborate. He doesn’t.
“Are you going to share that plan?” Steve asks.
“No.” Batman says. He jumps off the roof; a grappling hook carries him through a window and into the building. Steve sighs and throws himself through the shattered window shield first. They’re alone in a room piled high with boxes. Steve flips open the top of one. Guns, lots of guns. New guns, but a healthy smattering of antique guns that wouldn’t have been out of place during the war. Batman ignores the boxes and heads to a small room off the main floor that looks like an office. As Steve flips through more boxes, most containing weapons and some with cash, Batman picks the lock. He disappears inside while Steve keeps watch.
“Captain,” Batman says after a few minutes, his voice echoing.
“What’s wrong?”
“How many Neo-Nazis were arrested in Metropolis?” He asks, not looking up from his papers.
“Six, why?”
“Then it looks like you missed some.” Batman says.
“How much is some?” Steve asks from the doorway. Batman flips through the pages.
“Dozens, in both cities,” Batman says, “They’re shipping weapons out of Gotham and into Metropolis, then the money they make on the robberies they are sending back here to launder.”
Steve’s jaw clenches. So many Nazis hiding in plain sight uncomfortably reminds him of how well Hydra was able to hide and thrive amongst shield.
“Do we have any names?”
“Not at the moment.”
A door slams shut. Steve tightens his grip on his shield.
“That’s fine,” he whispers, “We’ll just ask our hosts.”
Steve is silent as he creeps along the edges of the room. The men who enter are young, with shaved heads and leather jackets. They’re kids really. Kids who have never seen war, who have never held a buddy while the light disappeared from their eyes, who don’t know the meaning of the phrase war is hell. These kids get their thrills scaring people and think that makes them tough. Steve is happy to dissuade them from that false delusion.
Steve throws his shield. These kids don’t know what hit them. They’ve never had a history class warning them not to get in the way of Captain America’s shield. They’ve never seen old news reels showing just how much damage a vibramium shield thrown at 105 miles per hour can do. These kids expected Batman at the worst; instead they got a super soldier with a decades long grudge against Nazis.
Steve is tying up the last man when Batman comes out of the office. He surveys Steve’s work.
“Not bad,” He says. Steve inclines his head in thanks.
“Did you find out more about the other cells?
“Yes, I can handle what’s in Gotham if you and Superman want to tackle the ones in Metropolis. It looks like a cell or two has started recruiting in Central City, but I have a contact there that will make short work of them.” Batman says.
“Thank you.” Steve says holding out his hand. Batman stares at it distrustfully before taking it and giving a brisk shake. He lets go quickly as if he expected Steve to try to hang on.
“Hopefully we can do this again.”
“I doubt it.” Batman says.
Steve catches the Saturday morning train back to Gotham. In his notebook is a list of names and addresses that Batman was able to pull from the files in the office. Steve flips back to his two lists. To the one titled “Known facts about Batman” he adds:
- Prefers working alone
- Intelligent
- Stealthy
- Eccentric
Satisfied with his additions he flips to the list titled “Theories and Speculations” and crosses out “part bat” and “modern day super soldier.” He keeps wealthy though. Grappling hooks are not something bought at the local convenience store and from what Steve could tell of the suit it was high grade ultra-light Kevlar, similar to Steve’s own.
He steps off the train back onto the clean streets of Metropolis, so different than the dirty streets of Gotham. He’s making a good life for himself here. He has no plans to uproot himself, but he has to admit there was something nostalgic about Gotham’s rundown buildings. He could have been happy there.