Legendary

When we woke up the next morning, the top news story was that the heavy snow had collapsed several tents in the tent city. Four were dead from suffocation. I felt that Aunt Becca had gotten out just in time.

The next few days were busy. When I went to the lab with Damian, I studied the tanks. They had been formed from a single sheet of glass, slumped or blown that way, so there were no seams or lip around the top where contaminants could hide. I scrubbed them again, then wet a new sponge and saturated it with methanol, coating the first tank, then set it on fire. I should have alerted everybody. They were very upset at first, thinking that I was burning down the lab. "Oh," said Ann. "Flame sterilization." I nodded and went on to the next one after all the alcohol had burned off. The other three stayed to enjoy the show as each tank was treated, and then I cleaned and put the covers on to prevent anything falling in before we had anything to put in them. Ann had a couple of likely strains of algae and one of bacteria, so we ordered enough to start with.

"We might want to consider using both algae and bacteria in conjunction," I said, and that opened a whole new area of consideration. I got the specs for the water the organisms thrived in and started the calculations for producing the correct amount for our tanks. Eventually, they should just be chucked into any old seawater, but until we were ready to test, I wanted the organisms to not be stressed.

As I'd thought, I had afternoons free, so when I wasn't at my twice-weekly therapy appointments, I was at the tower. Bucky was right, the current crop of Avengers were kind of bratty, very impressed with themselves and easily convinced that Bucky was an outmoded old guy.

They didn't stand a chance against the both of us.

We surveyed the six Avengers who were on the floor, wheezing or groaning, or both. "Geeze, Uncle Bucky, it doesn't seem really fair. Maybe next time it should be either you or me against all of them. I barely got warmed up," I complained.

His eyes twinkled at me. "I admit it was harder to beat Stevie or Natasha," he said blandly. "Even Stark... bless him." I snorted as Tony chose that moment to stroll in, hands in pockets, surveying the carnage.

"I guess it's true, the Avengers aren't what they used to be," he said crisply, and Wildfire raised her head and shot him a pure poisonous glare. "But to be fair, you're a valkyrie who took on Sutr's army. That kind of experience is invaluable." He flicked his hand.

"Who the fuck are you?" Puck snarled.

"Tony Stark. You may have heard of me," he said dismissively. Daniel, walking in behind him, smirked. We nodded to each other.

"Up and at 'em, Avengers," he commanded pleasantly. "These two might be some of the finest fighters on earth, but there are six of you. Fortunately Stark has agreed to work as your mentor, showing you how to form a cohesive team and use your tech better. Our good luck continues, as Captain America has agreed to teach you strategy and teamwork. And finally, you thought training was hard now? Well, I have acquired a couple more tutors for you." And in hustled Steve, short of breath like he was late, and behind him strode Natasha and Hawkeye. I slapped my hand over my mouth and bounced on my toes. "I have the pleasure of introducing Black Widow and Hawkeye. Now that the excitement is over from Ragnarok, we expect more from you. General Clark and the director of Homeland Security await you upstairs. Clean up and get to the meeting. Now." The Avengers were silent as they pried themselves off the floor and trudged to the elevator that would take them to their quarters. When the elevator doors closed, I gave my grandson a hug and kiss on the cheek. Steve got the same treatment, and Natasha got a long hug. I waved at Hawkeye over her shoulder and he grinned at me before going over to talk to Daniel, Tony, and Bucky.

"Glad to see you," I said, giving her an extra squeeze before letting her go.

"Me too," she said. "I had to track Clint down; he'd turned into a hermit at the end of his life and moved to Montana."

"So that's where he went," I said, exasperated.

She grinned. "Yeah, he said he just up and left one day. Felt a little bad about just disappearing, a few people like you kept contact, but..."

"I did look for him, but he was pretty good at the disappearing act. He sold his farm, so I knew his leaving was his idea, or I'd have looked harder."

"He learned from the best," she pointed out. "And here's another piece of fun. Nick Fury's back, and those kids upstairs are getting a new boss. You never knew Nick, you'll have to, soon, but he's tough and he'll whip those kids into shape." She smirked. I did too. "There's a ballet performance I was thinking of going to just before Thanksgiving. Do you want to come?" she asked a little diffidently.

I grinned, excited. "Of course!"

She relaxed. "I was a little worried that you might be upset that I didn't get in touch after returning."

I smiled wryly. "I had a few things of my own to worry about."

"So I've heard." Daniel broke up the reunion, but Natasha and I exchanged numbers first. Steve, Hawkeye, and Natasha went upstairs to the meeting to terrorize some Avengers.

"The city's given Steve permission to set up an obstacle course in one of the abandoned subway lines," Bucky told me. My eyes got big, and he laughed. "He'll be happy that there's one person who wants to run it with him," he said indulgently. We discussed strategies for training the team before I left. I had to make a run to the grocery store.

I ended up having to take a cab home, there was so much to buy for the pantry and refrigerator. And then Eira and I made a run to the pet store for an extra bag of food, some protective booties for her feet when the ice got bad, and some new toys. I had a nice stew and some bakery rolls ready to pop into the oven to warm when my husband got home. He took Eira out for a walk and we ate when they got back. When he went out with Nightwing, I picked up one of my new textbooks and read until bedtime. When I woke up the next morning, somehow he'd managed to outfox Eira and was snuggled against me.

We quickly settled into a routine: we walked to the lab together, had lunch, I left and went to beat up some Avengers. Sometimes he brought dinner home, so it was nice not to have to cook much. The kitchen was small; adequate, but it made cooking less of a pleasure. Then we talked and read until he left on the nights he patrolled. Sometimes he woke me up when he got back; his new suit seemed to increase his libido.

This happy state of affairs lasted a week.

I was woken up one night by a call from Nightwing. "We need your help," he said tersely with no preamble.

"What happened?" I was instantly awake.

"We were surprised by a bunch of thugs. The warehouse was supposed to be empty of people. Hurry. Nightfall needs medical assistance."

I cursed. I hadn't restocked my med kit after Ragnarok, it had slipped my mind. "I don't have equipment here. Call your pod and I'll meet you in the med suite--or do you need help with Nightfall?"

"I can manage." He clicked off and I leaped out of bed, threw on some clothes, told Eira where I was going, and blipped over to the med suite off the batcave, getting everything turned on and prepared. I regretted Alfred's absence; bat-related emergencies always seemed more under control with his unflappable presence.

"Good evening, Miss. Alex," the AI said. Somebody had reprogrammed it with Alfred's voice. "What is the nature of this evening's emergency?"

"Damian's been beat up again. Dick's bringing him in."

"Very good, Miss. Alex. How is Master. Dick. arriving?"

"By pod."

"Excellent. There is a landing spot outside. the complex. I will direct the pod there. Bring Master. Damian. inside and begin the treatment protocol."

I waited at outside door. There was a beep from a pressure sensor outside the door, so I hustled out with the wheelchair. I winced as Dick placed Damian in it and ran ahead of Dick. He put Damian on the table and I hit the scan button. It seemed to take ages for the scan to complete, but in reality it was done in just under a minute.

"Master. Damian. has a mild concussion, a lacerated kidney, a ruptured appendix, blunt-force trauma to the liver, and extensive contusions," AI Alfred said. "Nothing, save the appendix, that is new and exciting." I rolled my eyes at the AI's attempt at humor and pushed the table over to the surgical setup. It hadn't changed much in its arrangement over time, although the components had been upgraded, of course. Dick whisked off Damian's domino and put the medical mask on, starting the anesthetic gas flow as I used a new tool to easily slice through the tough tac fabric of his suit and swiftly settled a drape over his lower body. It reminded me of the first time I had seen this suite, and Dick acted as my assistant this time as I had done for Alfred. The stakes were higher, though, if I screwed up, there was no hyper-competent Alfred to save Damian. I drew a vial of blood and stuck into an automated analyzer before I stuck my hands in a sterilizer and snapped on gloves.

I had to retrieve three trays of supplies and instruments, one for each area of surgery and slotted them in the holder by the table. The contents of each were arranged in a very precise manner, and a light was shined on whatever was needed for the next step, making it easy for the surgery to progress slowly. AI Alfred coached me as I gripped the first scalpel and took a deep breath. Even for my paramedic training, I hadn't done surgery.

I sterilized Damian's abdomen and made the first small incision, another light showing the exact placement. Dick was instructed to do the same thing with his hands and the gloves, and the AI changed voices to a more neutral American accent to avoid the two of us getting confused. It talked him through setting up an IV with fluids as I retracted tissue. He wasn't comfortable administering medication through the line, though, but that could wait until I was done. The kidney was bleeding the worst, but there was a new material to be applied to the exterior to stop the bleeding and promote healing. It was also coated in a medication that assisted clotting and was antiseptic and antibacterial. The surrounding tissues were cleaned, the tissue accelerator wand used and the incision closed, and I moved on to the liver, which received the same treatment.

"How are you doing, Dick?" I asked, eyes on the liver as I manipulated a strip of the material onto the organ, carefully placing it over the worst of the damage. I took a quick glance at him; his green face clashed a little with the blue design on his suit.

"Not so good," he managed.

"Throw up in the sink if you need to," I instructed briskly. The liver had an area that had been squashed and was leaking blood, although the AI assured me that it didn't have to be removed. Dick lurched away and I half-smiled. I cleaned and closed that incision, then straightened up and shook out my hands before turning my attention to the appendix. It was red and angry-looking, and it was leaking. Gross. Water ran in the sink, then Dick returned.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Nothing to be sorry for," I said absently as I sealed off blood vessels and separated it from the colon. "I threw up my first time too."

"When was that?" a puzzled voice said from the door, and I looked up to see Daniel and Bruce hovering in the doorway.

"We were still in high school. Damian had been beaten up in a garage by the League of Assassins," I said concisely. "He had me bring him here rather than a hospital." Then I shut up as AI Alfred talked me through my first appendectomy. I placed the organ on the table beside my husband and began suturing with dissolvable stitches before using the healing wand again. "I lost it, I think, when Alfred took out his gallbladder." Dick lurched away again.

"Sorry," I called. Then I snickered. "Damian was going commando then too." Daniel snorted a laugh. I spent extra time cleaning this wound; the spread of gut bacteria outside the intestines would be a serious problem, and I was picky and proprietary about Damian. Not wanting to risk peritonitis, I finally closed the incision and straightened up. Dick took off the gas mask as instructed, and I retrieved the medications from the drug cabinet, adding the concussion medication, healing factors that were new to me, painkillers, and antibiotics to Damian's IV. Without being asked, Bruce pushed the bed in through the door and Daniel helped him resettle Damian on the clean linen. Dick was still pale and clammy, his hands shaking.

"Are you ok?" I asked him quietly as Damian was pushed away to the recovery room.

"I'm fine with blood, but everything else..." His pallor increased.

"Why don't you go have a shower," I suggested. "I felt a lot better after I got cleaned up that first time." His eyes were a little wild. "Come out after you've gotten cleaned up," I directed, and gave him a little push out the door. I got everything cleaned up quickly; unlike my first experience, I'd been ready and waiting, and there were no surprise fountains of blood. The medical waste went down a chute to be incinerated in a highly controlled process, so there was very little cleanup. I sprayed the table and counters down with disinfectant and made sure everything was put back into place or placed in a gizmo that cleaned and sterilized the instruments.

When Dick returned, I had him lie on the table for a scan of his own. He was just bruised and freaked out by the surgery on his brother, so I gave him a very small dose of a drug that had been developed to aid calming a person in mental distress, gave him a blanket and a hug, and sent him to the tissue accelerator. Daniel, having seen for himself that his granddad was going to be ok, gave me a hug and went back to bed. I double-checked the placement of sensitive pads which would monitor Damian's condition and the calibration of the instrument, adjusted the IV bag, then touched his cheek. His golden skin was pale and sallow. Bruce stood at the other side of the bed.

"The criminals have been pretty quiet since the return; at least, there hasn't been a high incidence of physical violence. I think the tide is turning, though, and this is the beginning of something big. The cream of generations of villainy is rising to the top," he said quietly.

That's an image.

I brought over the newest generation of tissue accelerators and positioned it over Damian's face. "Thing is, Bruce, there's always going to be an apex predator and a swarm of criminals struggling to take over," I said, checking the placement of the top plate before turning it on and hearing the hum. "I'm not saying the struggle to control the evil isn't necessary or worthwhile, but it isn't possible for one person, or even a small band of people, to stem the tide. You might want to meditate on the toll that crime-fighting has taken on generations of this family. This is your son laying here after surgery, and not for the first time. It could have easily been any of your other Robins--your children, or your grandchildren. You might want to reflect on the cost of your obsession."

I slipped out of the room before he could come up with a good retort and went in search of Dick, bringing him some cocoa with extra mini marshmallows. Sugar is good for shock. We talked while he sipped at the mug, and then I sent him home to Barbara. I took the mug upstairs to put into the dishwasher, then returned to the recovery suite, where I pulled up a chair and dozed.

I woke, groggy and confused, when I heard movement. In the half light, I could see Damian's eyes looking around hazily, evaluating his environment. The swelling around his left eye had gone down considerably. "How do you feel?" I asked gently, then yawned.

"Sweet pea," he said rustily. "I feel like shit, but better than I did the last time I was conscious."

"Not surprising," I said, getting up and checking the monitor and IV bag. I pinched the back of his hand gently to check his hydration level. "You could use some more fluids," I said. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"It's a good time for it," he said, and I carefully helped him into the wheelchair and rolled him into the bathroom. There was blood in his urine, which was to be expected, but freaked him out. I soothed him and told him what I'd done.

"The advancements for medicine have been extraordinary," I said as I got him settled again. "But you're still going to have to take it easy and let the repairs to your body complete. I will strap you to the bed, my darling, and tell everybody I've taken you home so they won't come looking for you if I have to."

"I'll be good," he promised, and winced. I hung another bag of fluids and added the second dose of the appropriate medications, leveling the pain medication down a bit. Then I turned on the accelerator again and smoothed his hair back. "I'm sorry, Petal," he said, holding my hand.

"I know," I said, and traced the worst bruise on his abdomen with a light brush of my fingertips. It extended over half of his midsection and had been inflicted with a pipe. Too thin for a baseball bat. I changed the subject. "Do you need me to get you some underwear?" I inquired.

"There's not enough room in that suit for me and my boxers," he said, closing his eyes. "It fits like a glove."

"I know," I said appreciatively, and he drifted off to sleep again.

I slept lightly for a few more hours and went back to the surgical suite to consult with AI Alfred about what Damian could have to eat (not much for a few days, just the full liquid diet) and to check the automated blood analysis. I went back to the recovery room and checked the readouts from the monitor, which were all satisfactory. I checked the wound sites for bleeding and removed the IV gently, which woke Damian anyway.

"Would you like something to eat?" I asked.

"What can I have?"

"Anything that doesn't involve chewing for a few days," I said. "No solid food, fatty foods, or sugary foods." I smiled slightly. "So all the cookies at home are mine." He smirked slightly. "But what I'm really wondering about is why I had to remove your appendix at all. There was no bruising to that area that might suggest it was somehow ruptured."

"Ah," he said. "Well, I didn't know that anything was really wrong or I wouldn't have gone patrolling," he assured me. "I felt kind of a niggling little ache there, but nothing big, and then it stopped right before the attack."

"Well, you had appendicitis," I said. "Your white blood cell count was elevated. You were hot and sweaty when Dick brought you in, I assumed initially that it was because you'd just been in a fight but you were running a fever, low grade. Medicine has advanced a lot, but you'll still be out for a week with no physical exertion, then you can start gradually doing more. But there's a lot that you need to be checked on, like peritonitis and abscess, so you're staying here for a couple of days in case you need intervention. But I can't stay, we've got the bacteria and algae arriving today and I need to introduce them to the tanks. I can blip back almost instantly if there's a problem though."

"You go ahead, Sweet pea," he said, closing his eyes. "I'm going to be fine. If I sleep through it, maybe I'll heal faster. I'm not hungry fight now."

"You need to eat, though." I frowned at him.

"I will later, I promise." He smiled. "I'm just not that enthusiastic about gruel."

"If you haven't eaten by the time I get back, I'll sit on you and force feed you," I threatened.

"I'll be good. There's a buzzer here on the bed where I can get help if I need it."

"Call me if you need anything, though." He promised, and I blipped home to take Eira out. We had breakfast, I showered and changed, and went to the lab early. Then I twiddled my thumbs and called Bucky, explaining the situation. He was concerned about Damian, and told me that he could handle the Avengers that afternoon. By that time, Tony and Ann had showed up, and I said that Damian had had an emergency appendectomy and would be out for a bit. They expressed their sympathy, and we were still talking when our delivery arrived. The man carefully brought in three canisters, two larger than the third, and as I checked the contents, he looked around appraisingly.

"Something caught your eye?" Tony asked, not quite frowning, but not welcoming, either.

The man laughed. "I usually don't get to see the places I make deliveries," he said. "Usually there's a secretary." Tony signed the bill when I nodded, and the man left. I took the canisters over to the tanks and carefully released the contents into each tank. Two large tanks for algae, one for bacteria.

"Give them a couple of days to acclimate," I said to Ann, and showed her the nutrients I'd made up for each tank. "Feed them according to the schedule, call if there's trouble."

"I can do that," she said, flipping through the pages and smiling. "Go on, I know you're anxious to get back to your husband."

That was easy. Eira and I left, and I made a stop at a medical supply house, showed my paramedic license, and filled the deficiencies in my emergency kit. And then some; I made a much more extensive one for our home. But then I was stuck; I had a lot of stuff to carry and I couldn't move that much stuff, Eira, and me, even supposing I could find a discreet place to blip around from. I hailed a cab and we made a stop. It wasn't hard to find a suitable vehicle; there wasn't much of a market in the city because of all the pedestrian traffic and models that had limited aerial capabilities were expensive. But thanks to Daniel's initial generosity, I could afford it, and I zipped out in a nifty little number with two seats and a generous area on the floor behind where Eira could stretch out. It was ample enough that she should still be able to fit when she was fully grown and because I paid cash, the dealership kicked in a travel blanket for Eira and a few other branded accessories, including a self-warming travel mug. On the drive home, however, she sat in the other seat, with my supplies and equipment in the back. I hauled it up, and packed enough clothing and effects for Eira, Damian, and myself for a few days.

From the apartment, we hopped up into the air for the short flight out to the town nearest the mansion, from where we set down and drove out. I took a couple of pictures when we got there, Eira clearly visible inside, and when she got out, she rocketed off to run around the grounds. She'd come in when she was ready. I snagged the carryalls and went downstairs. Dick was reading in the chair in the recovery room. "How are you doing?" I asked him quietly, messing up his hair. He grinned and swatted my hand away.

"Nothing some sleep couldn't cure," he said. "I made him eat some cream of wheat."

I suppressed a laugh with difficulty; Damian hated mushy cereals. "I brought some things for us; I'm moving in for a few days."

"Excellent," he said. "He's not nearly as whiny when you're around." He got up and stretched. "Thanks for last night," he said more seriously. "I appreciate you taking care of me when there were more pressing problems.'

"You're important too," I said, taking the chair. "It's always a fraught situation when you're in a fight and somebody gets hurt."

He nodded. "I'll bring you down some lunch. I can't wait for Alfred to get back. Poor guy takes his first vacation in forever and the place goes to hell." I snorted and he left. I put my head back and went to sleep. It had been an exciting night.