Rose Wilson: The Ravager #7

Int. Wayne Tower Penthouse Suite – Day

Rose and Dick are sitting together in the living room, she on the couch in front of him, and he in the armchair. She leans forward, going over a map of Gotham City.

Rose: So, according to Costello, they're going to be dumping the entirety of Scarecrow's fear toxin into the Gotham water supply.

Dick: With the city's water contaminated like that, it'll tear itself apart. There aren't enough police in Gotham to stop half the city panicking from their darkest fears.

Rose: Exactly. So, in the chaos, they're pretty much free to do whatever they want in the meantime. Looting will be especially rampant.

Dick: I can see the Scarecrow taking advantage of that, but I hardly see why Daggett Industries needs to get involved in something like this just for some small time looting. Doesn't seem like it would be their M.O.

Rose: It isn't. Once the city is infected, people will obviously be looking for a cure. Scarecrow already supplied them with it, enough to treat everyone in Gotham. A few days after the pandemonium, Daggett Industries claims to have discovered what the problem is with everyone, then they start selling their anti-toxin to hospitals.

A small pause drifts over the two. Dick's eyes narrow with concern.

Dick: They'll make a fortune, and not just by selling the cure; their stock will shoot through the roof.

Rose: When all is said in done, everyone involved in the operation is loads richer, and Daggett Industries will have more power than ever.

Dick: Not to mention, half the city will be in near ruins as a result. Aside from the likely property damage, I don't want to think about how many people will end up dead.

Rose: Well, it's a good thing we aren't going to let that happen, isn't it?

Dick: Did you find out when and were they're going to commence their plan?

Turning the city map around, she points at a specific spot.

Rose: Gotham Water Works, the water purification plant. It's the last place the city's water supply goes before ending up in the reservoir. They hit it there, and it'll only take a few hours before people start going into a frenzy. As for when, they decided to push things up to tonight, in light of my... intrusion last night.

Dick: And Costello won't be able to warn them?

A small smirk curls across Rose's face.

Rose: Not a chance. That sedative you gave me worked like a charm; he'll be sleeping like a baby until some time tomorrow. I locked him in a supply closet, too, just to be sure.

Dick: Alright, in that case, we'll be there waiting for them tonight.

Rose: Good... I'm actually looking forward to it. I just hope that Scarecrow freak shows up; I still owe him.

Dick looks up and gives her a hard look.

Dick: You sure you're going to be alright to come along? You aren't even close to being fully recovering, you know.

Rose: Don't worry, I'll be fine, just so long as I can numb the pain. Besides, I'll have you and Bird Boy to watch my back, right?

Sitting up straighter, he lets out a small breath and calmly nods at her.

Dick: Okay, just take it easy until tonight, then, at least. You take any more of a beating and you'll end up in a coma.

Rose: Which you'd use as an excuse to take my clothes off again, right?

Dick: Rose...

Rose: Hey, I'm not judging.

Dick: You really are terrible.

Rose smirks again, teasingly.

Rose: I know.

Ext. Gotham City Water Works – Night

Several large vans and trucks drive up in front of the water purification plant, coming to a stop just outside the entrance. Doors open in unison, a whole team of men getting out and preparing to get to work. Each man is armed; they're taking no chances tonight. If Batman and his freaks decide to show up, they'll be ready.

A tall, middle-aged man in a clean business suit and neatly trimmed red hair walks up to the front entrance. Following him is a more wiry fellow with dark cloths, mussed up, greasy hair, and a paranoid expression on his face, as he glances around into the shadows nervously. He also favors his shoulder, wincing whenever he moves it too much by accident.

The front doors to the building open, a security guard appearing. He gives the two men a brief look, then gazes past them to see the others starting to unload small crates from their vehicles.

Security Guard: Well, you guys are right on time, I see.

Daggett: I'm always prompt. Is everything ready?

Security Guard: Yeah, sure. Alarm systems are shut down, and cameras are playing on a loop. It's just me here tonight, too, so you're all set.

Daggett: Excellent work, you did your part well. I promise you, we'll be in and out before you know it.

Security Guard: First, the, uh... payment we spoke about?

Dagget: Of course.

Reaching into his suit jacket pocket, he pulls out a fat envelope, stuffed full of large bills. With an indifferent expression, he passes the envelope over to the guard.

Daggett: Here you are. Now, get back to your post and... read the paper or something.

Security Guard: Right, of course, I'm gone. Thank you, Mr. Daggett, I promise no one will get a word of this from me.

Daggett: Yes... they'd better not.

The unkempt man next to him looks back over his shoulder for a moment, then turns again towards Daggett, giving him a concerned look.

Daggett: What is it, Crane?

Crane: The Batman... he'll show up. I have a feeling.

Daggett: Oh, a feeling, now I know I should be afraid.

Crane: I'm telling you, he'll be here. When you've been up against him as long as I have, you develop a sort of... sixth sense about it. Just make sure your men are prepared.

Daggett: Quit your worrying. Even if you did leave a trail for him to follow, we'll be done here long before he figures out our plan. Besides, you told me the person snooping around the chemical plant was some woman with swords. Last I checked, that's not Batman.

Crane: Yes... true, but still. Doesn't matter if she's new, we should still assume she has ties to the Bat. They all do, all those costumed lunatics...

A small shudder runs up Crane's spine.

Crane: After this is over, I'm getting out of Gotham for good. I'm thinking somewhere... warm. And no bats.

The two men head inside, soon followed by their team, carrying in the load of fear toxin. It won't be long until they reach the purification tanks and begin emptying the supply into Gotham's water supply. Meanwhile, across the street, three figures watch the scene from a nearby rooftop. This surrounding portion of Gotham is isolate, desolate, no prying eyes... except theirs.

Batman: They're in; paid off the security guard.

Robin: Hmph, throw a little money at people and they'll do anything.

Ravager: Yeah, well sometimes, when you only have a few hundred dollars, you'd be surprised at what you do for some quick cash.

Robin: Whatever, let's just get in there and stop them already.

Ravager: I'm with the kid, let's move.

Batman waits until all the men out front are gone, disappearing inside the building. A few moments pass, and then he finally nods, giving the team the go-ahead.

Batman: Alright, let's go.

Int. Gotham Water Works – Night

Batman, Robin, and Ravager enter the building at three different points, keeping in contact by radio. Ravager ends up going in through the rear entrance, working her way through various machinery and water tanks. She hears muffled voices echoing through the vents, somewhere in the distance. Sticking to the shadows, she moves into a series of long, dark hallways. Shortly after, she presses a finger to her ear and whispers quietly.

Ravager: Which way am I going, again?

The wireless radio in her ear hisses with a bit of static before the response finally comes in, crystal clear.

Batman: They'll be heading to the purification tanks near the center of the plant. Keep heading east through the building, then take the stairs up one level. You'll find access to the catwalks there, just stay hidden and wait for the signal when you're there.

Ravager: And what exactly is the signal?

Another hiss of static. Robin's voice, this time.

Robin: I wouldn't worry about that, One-Eye. You'll know it when you see it.

Ravager: Uh huh... if you say so.

Removing her finger from the comm, she continues heading east down the hallway. Eventually, she comes to a set of winding metal stairs leading upward. She briefly takes a careful look around the area to make sure that none of Daggett's goons are nearby, then heads up the steps to the upper level. Her footsteps are light and silent, alerting no one. At the top, she finds the door leading into the catwalks of the purification room.

Carefully, Ravager glances through the door's window and observes. Three men are patrolling the narrow walkways, one close by the door, another farther down the same path, and a third across from them on a separate one. Below them are even more armed thugs, standing guard on ground level while a couple workers begin opening the crates and pulling out large canisters of what can only be Scarecrow's fear toxin.

Ravager: Better hurry, a few more minutes and Gotham is in serious trouble.

Batman: I see them. Don't worry, they won't get that far.

Ravager: What the hell are you waiting for?

Batman: The signal.

As if on cue, bright red lights on the ceiling above begin to flash on and off repeatedly, joined by a loud, blaring alarm. Immediately, the men in the other room begin to look around in a panic, while shouting at each other in confusion. Batman wastes no time, tossing in a small handful of smoke pellets and filling the entire room with a thick cover. In seconds, the men down below begin to drop like flies, doing everything the can just to see where they're going, let alone defend against an attacking Batman.

With their attention drawn, Ravager bursts through the door and races out onto the catwalk. The first thug doesn't react nearly quick enough, barely even seeing her before she pounces and delivers a short series of strikes that drop him in a motionless heap. The second gunman fares a tiny bit better, managing to take aim at her through the growing cloud of smoke. Unfortunately for him, he never gets a shot off before her boot drives straight into his face. His gun fires a few times as he falls backwards, then goes silent. With one more followup strike, she knocks him unconscious.

A precognitive flash goes off in her head, an image of the other thug on the second catwalk unloading a whole clip into her backside. She's off and moving before he ever gets the chance, backflipping across the chasm between walkways and landing feet first on the other side. By the time the man manages to aim a clean shot at her, she's already kicking the gun out of his hands and then delivering several precise blows to his rib cage. As he doubles over in pain, she brings her knee up into his face, and then finishes him with a chop to the neck.

With the upper level taken care of, she looks down into the smoke below. She sees dark shapes engaged in combat, though it isn't very difficult to figure out which one is Batman; he's the one that's winning. There is plenty of gunfire, but they don't come close to hitting him through the haze. He's far too well trained, and they far too incompetent. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Ravager dives forward off the catwalk and joins in, darting into the cloud and heading straight for the first figure that she sees.

The poor mook doesn't stand a chance, as her fist caroms off his jaw, followed by her knee exploding into his gut. The wind rushes from his lungs in a mix of surprise and pain, but before he can suffer the discomfort too long, her knuckles swing around and connect with the back of his head. He goes down instantly, unconscious. It's at that time she hears a voice shouting through the chaos. It isn't quite as distorted as she remembers it, but she knows who it is. She hasn't forgotten it so soon.

Crane: I told you he would be here! I told you he'd come!

Ravager whirls around in the direction of the voice, straining her eye through the shifting cloud of smoke. Then, she sees him, Jonathan Crane, standing near the back of the room and looking around nervously. Daggett is there with him, though seems to be more interested in trying to organize the riot than paying attention to Crane.

Daggett: Stop shooting at shadows! You're all running around like idiots; he's picking you off one by one!

Suddenly, another figure comes leaping out of the smoke, landing in front of him. It's Robin.

Robin: Hey, he's not the only one you have to worry about!

Daggett stares at the Boy Wonder for a few seconds in dumbfounded confusion. After all, what the hell is a little kid doing here, right? Getting over his initial shock, he then winds up and takes a swing.

Daggett: Little punk!

While Robin may be quite young still, he's been trained since he was old enough to stand to be an expert combatant. Daggett doesn't even realize what's happening; the next thing he knows, he's stumbling back with a sharp pain exploding between his ribs. A boot to the face then sends him falling hard to the floor.

Robin: Who's the punk now?

When Daggett tries to get back up, Robin responds in kind, with another series of perfect hits, leaving the man twitching on the ground and gaping for air. He's still alive, just temporarily paralyzed with a few well placed nerve strikes. At this point, Crane is off and running towards the exit.

Crane: I'm not going back to Arkham for this!

Before he reaches the door, Ravager is in hot pursuit, not about to let him get away.

Ravager: Crane!

Looking back over his shoulder, Crane sputters out a breath and picks up his pace, disappearing through the doors. Ravager bursts into the hallway beyond just a few moments later, catching sight of his figure rounding the corner in the distance. Normally, she'd be able to run him down in a few moments, being able to hit close to thirty-five miles per hour on foot, when in top form. But even without the pain present, in her present condition she's nowhere near capable of hitting her top speed. Still, she's gaining on him, she can feel it. Just a little bit more and she'll have him.

Suddenly, another alert flashes through her head, thanks to her precog. She ducks low, right as she rounds the corner, causing the steel pipe to sail high over her head and clang off the wall instead. Wasting no time, she follows up with a hard palm to Crane's jaw that sends him reeling backwards. A pained groan rushes out of his lungs, as he hits the floor.

In the same motion, however, he reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out his fear gas dispenser. As she lunges in for another attack, he sprays out a heavy green cloud right in her face. Coughing a few times, she steps backwards and uses her arms to brush the fog away in the air. Crane, thinking he has the advantage now, then pulls out his nightmarish burlap mask, slipping it over his head.

Crane: That's it, take in a deep breath, let the fear consume- oof!

Ravager cuts him off with a powerful punch straight to the gut, rushing the air out of his lungs. Before he can recover, she adds a side kick that connects hard with his nose, snapping it instantly. This time, he goes down and stays down, groaning weakly and not moving a whole lot. A growing blotch of crimson begins to soak its way through the burlap covering his face.

Ravager: Not this time, freakshow.

Walking forward, she stares down at him for a few moment and then lifts her foot over him. Slowly, she steps down and presses hard against the shoulder she cut through with her sword the previous night. Crane screams loudly at the abrupt eruption of agony ripping through him, until finally she removes her foot. He continues to whimper, however, something that gradually begins to grate on Ravager's nerves. Eventually, she aims a strike at the side of his neck and knocks him out cold.

Ravager: And now we're even.

By the time Ravager returns to the purification room, Batman and Robin have everything under control. Every last one of the men are tied up and either unconscious or delirious, including Daggett himself. With a satisfied smirk, she adds Cane to the bunch, tossing him over to be tied up with the others.

Ravager: Guess that takes care of that.

Robin: What took you so long?

Ravager: Just covering your loose ends, kid.

Robin: Keep dreaming.

Batman: Alright, enough. Let's finish up here.

Ext. Gotham Water Works – Night

The three walk back out the front doors, only to be greeted by an incoming swarm of cop cars. The cruisers screech to a sudden halt, their lights flashing like beacons in the dark. Ravager squints her eye and raises up her forearm to keep from being blinded. Moments later, doors open and officers are approaching them, including the commissioner himself.

Gordon: Batman! The hell is going on here? Our station picked up the alarm, said it was a break in.

Batman: Long story, Gordon. All you need to know for now is that the men tied up inside were trying to poison Gotham's water supply. I'll fill you in on the details later.

Gordon: You're serious? Damn, well thanks for the help.

The commissioner's eyes shift over to Ravager.

Gordon: Who are you?

Batman: She's with me.

Gordon: Oh, uh, alright then.

Turning back to the other officers, he starts waving them inside.

Gordon: Come on, men, let's get to work! And listen, Batman, I'll be in my office later when you want to-

He stops mid sentence, as he turns around again only to find that Batman, Robin, and Ravager have all vanished from the area.

Gordon: Batman? …I hate it when he does that.

Int. Bat Bunker – Night

Rose leans wearily against the counter in the medical station of the cave. The painkillers are starting to wear off, leaving her entire body throbbing and stiff with pain. She grits her teeth tightly to keep from groaning out loud, as she starts to strip off the top of her armored costume. Twisting ever so slightly in the wrong direction, a sharp hiss of air abruptly leaves her lips, forcing her to freeze up momentarily until the stabbing sensation in her ribs finally subsides.

Glancing down, she gingerly lifts up the bottom of the bandages wrapped tightly around her midsection to study the sickening black and blue marks beneath. Scarecrow had really done a number on her last night, even more than she'd first thought. Without the pills' effects to numb the pain, that fact was becoming pretty apparent. Taking in another breath of air, she looks around the counter, searching for them.

Dick: Looking for these?

Rose turns to the sound of the voice, seeing Dick standing there and holding the small bottle of pills. Most of his Batsuit is off, only the lower portion remaining. A few small dots of purple and yellow blotch his muscled torso. She catches herself staring, eventually shaking out of it, just as he tosses the bottle to her.

Rose: Uh... thanks. So what the hell happened to you?

Dick: Even a bunch of talentless thugs get a lucky shot or two in when firing automatic weapons into a smoke cloud.

Rose: You were shot? But-

Dick: Kevlar, remember? The suit's bulletproof.

Rose: Oh, right... well, that's good.

Walking over to the counter, Dick starts rummaging through one of the drawers, searching for another roll of bandages.

Dick: I think I might have a cracked rib, though.

Rose: Nothing the great Batman can't work through, I'm sure.

A brief moment of silence passes between, as Dick finds what he's looking for and closes the drawer. Eventually, he glances up at her and comes close, folding his arms.

Dick: You did good tonight, I want you to know that.

Rose: Yeah, well, I am pretty awesome, right?

Dick: Seriously, Rose. You're good at this, when you allow yourself to be; you just have to trust yourself. And when you make a mistake, learn from it, don't let it beat you.

Rose gives him a long look, taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out. She thinks over his words; they give her comfort, something she hasn't had in a long time. An appreciative smile begins to form on her face.

Rose: You know, Grayson... when you're not being stupid, you're actually kind of smart.

Dick: Just want to make sure you know that you're not alone. You haven't been for a long time.

Rose: Yeah... guess I can kind of see that now.

Rose's expression shifts a little, softening. Her smile shrinks a little, but doesn't disappear. She finds herself leaning forward slightly, arms slowly lifting up and coming to wrap around his waist. His own expression changes, as well, now more of surprise than anything else.

Dick: Rose, what are you-

He doesn't get a chance to finish, as Rose's lips plant firmly against his own, silencing him. For the briefest of moments, she feels him sinking into the kiss, returning it. But, as she should have expected, it just isn't to be. Dick's own hands rise up and grab her elbows, pushing her arms away. He breaks the kiss, tilting his head back and breathing out a sigh.

Dick: Rose... you know we can't.

Rose: And why not, huh?

Dick: There's more than a few things wrong with it...

Rose: Not in my head.

Dick: Rose, I don't feel that way about you.

Rose: You said it yourself, though, you care about me.

Dick: And I meant that, but as a friend..

Rose: Ever heard of friends with benefits?

She's reaching now, sounding almost desperate. She had felt so close to him just a second ago, felt a need burning inside her, and now it seems that she isn't going to get it. Then again, she probably should have seen it coming. With a small breath, Dick raises a hand and places it tenderly on her shoulder, but at the same time gently shakes his head.

Dick: I'm not going to use you like that.

Rose: You wouldn't be using me...

Dick: Rose... I'm sorry, but no.

A long, disappointed sigh escapes her mouth. Rose pulls back, then shrugs absently and grabs the bottle of painkillers. She honestly doesn't know why she's so surprised; maybe a part of her actually thought there was something more between them. Just wishful thinking, apparently. Giving him an unenthusiastic wave, she walks past him and heads for the lift to take her back up to the penthouse.

Rose: I'm... gonna get some sleep. I'll figure out where I'm going in the morning.

Dick: You're leaving?

Rose: I was only supposed to stay for a few days, remember? Besides, as great as your place is... I'm getting tired of sleeping on your couch.