Bruce Wainright has (onerule) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-05-15 23:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, door: dc comics |
Who: Bats
What: Small narrative.
Where: One of his warehouse!Batcaves.
When: After Selina leaves the antitoxin.
Warnings/Rating: None.
Ever since his successful return to Gotham, Bruce had been maintaining a low profile. It was difficult, for someone who was accustomed to being very, very public with his actions; his entire persona had been constructed around the idea of setting an example. With Bane's men still patrolling the perimeter and the streets, however, drawing attention to himself too soon would only make things worse. Blackgate was still full of innocent citizens, Damian and Jason included, and he couldn't have Bane and his assassin friend taking steps to block him before he'd had a chance to make real progress.
So, he was quiet. Subtle. He watched, and he collected information, and he divided the city into 'zones' based on the presence of Bane's men and the danger posed. He planned, and strategized, and when the twenty-four hour kick forced him through the door, Luke simply turned around and crossed back. He'd resigned himself to the reality of the situation, becoming little more than a quiet ache in the back of Bruce's mind. There was no time to dwell on that, however, just like there'd been no time to dwell on Kara's fate after the sacrifice she'd made to allow Eddie, Stephanie and himself the opportunity to sneak into the city. He'd tried calling for her, which she'd told him would work, but received no response; there was nothing he could do. Searching for her posed too much of a risk.
She was not the first to suffer the result of the Bat's absence, nor would she be the last. But he buried his guilt, as he always did, and moved on.
The box appeared after he returned from another recon mission, which had taken no more than half an hour. No one else had access to this particular warehouse, and breaking in would have been no easy feat; there was only a handful skilled enough to manage it. Bruce read the note first, not recognizing the handwriting, and then he saw what it contained.
He was skeptical, of course, too jaded to hope for the best. Hours passed as he analyzed what was in the vials, running test after test, until there was only one left to positively confirm the conclusion he was almost too wary to make. He needed to be sure before he continued any further.
While the toxin had steadily been wearing off, there were still too many who remained under its influence. Finding a suitable subject was simple, as was subduing them and bringing them back to the not-Cave. Once everything was in place, Bruce injected the serum into the still-unconscious young man, and he waited.
It took time, yes, but it worked.
The man panicked. It was a natural reaction to regaining consciousness in a strange place, blindfolded and disoriented, but not one he would have displayed had the toxin still been in effect. A few more tests were run, and Bruce observed him for a while longer before depositing him back in the city, somewhere safe, but there seemed to be no adverse effects.
This was not a trick. Someone, and he had a fair idea of who based on process of elimination, had set the antidote at his feet, and now all he had to do was find a way to distribute it on a widespread scale without attracting unwanted attention.