Becoming Nightshade

Briggs paced near the dim overhead light in the center of the warehouse, his jaw tight and fingers drumming impatiently against the grip of his gun. He checked his watch for the third time in the past hour, his irritation growing with each passing second. The call from Tucker should have come through over half an hour —confirmation that the car was delivered, and that Jason Todd was exactly where he was supposed to be.

But there was nothing. No call. No update. Just silence.

Maggie, still tied up against a nearby support beam, could see the tension in Briggs' shoulders, the way his eyes flicked to his men with barely disguised frustration. She shared a glance with Dick, who remained slumped against a crate, seemingly worn down but subtly working at the ropes binding his wrists behind him.

Briggs growled in frustration and brought his phone to his ear, pacing away a few steps. The moment it went straight to voicemail, he froze, staring at the screen with a look of growing irritation. He tried again. The same result.

Briggs chuckled, low and humorless, shaking his head. "Looks like your boy let you down," he muttered, slipping the phone into his pocket and turning back toward them, his expression dark. Maggie kept her face blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Briggs' smirk widened, and he pulled his gun from his holster, the barrel gleaming under the dim warehouse lights. He tapped it lightly against his leg, then pointed it lazily between them. "So... who's gonna go first?" he mused, his tone almost casual. "Pretty boy? Or the princess?"

Maggie swallowed hard, her heart pounding, but she didn't look away. "You won't get away with this," she said, her voice steady.

Briggs ignored her, taking a step closer, leveling the gun at Dick's head. "I think we'll start with you. Todd can live with losing one friend first, right?"

Before he could pull the trigger, a sharp metallic whirl sliced through the air, and CLANG!—a batarang struck his hand, sending the gun spinning across the floor. Briggs cursed, clutching his wrist as he staggered back. The warehouse lights flickered, and then a low, menacing voice echoed through the rafters.

"You're done, Briggs."

From the shadows above, Batman descended like a specter, his cape billowing around him as he landed with a bone-shaking thud. His dark figure loomed large, eyes glowing under the cowl as he advanced without hesitation.

Robin—Jason—appeared next, leaping from the upper beams, landing in front of Maggie and Dick.

"Took your sweet time," Dick quipped,has Robin quickly slashing through his and Maggie's restraints with a sharp blade hidden in his glove.

Briggs stumbled back, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fury. "Get them!" he shouted, scrambling to retrieve his fallen weapon.

His thugs reacted instantly, drawing their weapons, but Batman was already in motion. He moved like a storm, disarming one man with a calculated strike to the wrist and driving a hard punch to his gut, sending him sprawling to the ground. Another lunged at him, but a swift knee to the chest knocked him out cold.Robin, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of raw aggression. He delivered a brutal kick to the nearest thug's knee, sending him crashing down before knocking him out with a precise strike to the head.

"You really need better help, Briggs," he taunted, spinning toward Maggie and pulling her to her feet.

Maggie rubbed her wrists, her eyes narrowing at Briggs, who was now backing toward the warehouse exit, desperation flashing in his eyes. "Not so tough now, huh?"

Dick, now free and back in the fight, intercepted one of the remaining goons with a swift kick to the ribs, taking him down with practiced ease. "You okay, Mags?" he asked, glancing her way.

She nodded, her fists clenched. "I'm good." As she punches a thug hard in the face knocking him out.

Briggs, realizing his options were dwindling, lunged for his gun, but Batman was faster. In an instant, the Dark Knight's hand shot out, gripping Briggs by the collar and slamming him against a stack of crates.

"It's over," Batman growled, his voice dangerously low.

Briggs' bravado crumbled under the weight of Batman's glare. "You... you can't stop this," he stammered. "People want that car—"

Batman tightened his grip, his voice a whisper of controlled fury. "I don't care."

With the distant wail of Gotham PD sirens growing louder, Batman tossed Briggs to the ground with a final, measured force. The crime boss groaned, clutching his wrist as his men lay scattered around him, unconscious or too dazed to move. Batman barely spared them a second glance; his focus was on his family.

"Move," Bruce ordered, his voice low but firm.

Dick, Maggie, and Robin didn't need to be told twice. They slipped through the shadows of the warehouse, avoiding the incoming flood of red and blue lights bouncing off the towering shipping containers. Maggie's heart pounded as they moved quickly, sticking to the dark alleys and silent passageways Bat had mapped out years ago in case of situations like this.

"That was close," Dick muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over their hurried footsteps.

Batman signaled for them to stay low as they approached a hidden alley where the Batmobile was parked, its matte black surface blending seamlessly with the darkness. Bruce took one last glance over his shoulder, ensuring they hadn't been followed before pressing a button on his gauntlet. The vehicle's cockpit slid open silently, waiting for them.

"Get in," Bruce ordered as he took the driver's seat, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Dick climbed into the front passenger seat while Maggie and Jason slid into the back. The moment they were inside, the cockpit sealed shut, enclosing them in the familiar hum of the Batmobile's high-tech interior. Bruce's fingers moved swiftly over the controls, bringing up the Gotham PD scanner on the dashboard. The police chatter crackled through the speakers.

"Multiple suspects in custody, officers securing the scene. No sign of Batman or known accomplices. Proceeding with investigation."

Bruce nodded slightly, satisfied, and pressed the accelerator. The Batmobile purred to life and sped silently down the empty street, leaving the flashing lights and chaos of the docks behind.

As the Batmobile glided smoothly through Gotham's dimly lit streets, Bruce's voice cut through the low hum of the engine. "Start talking. What happened?"

His expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his jaw spoke volumes. The sharp angles of his cowl cast deep shadows across his face, making his eyes appear even colder beneath the glow of the dashboard lights. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a controlled, deliberate force—steady, but tight enough to betray his barely contained frustration.

As Jason began to recount the events, Bruce's gaze never wavered from the road, but there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—calculation, impatience, and a simmering anger held firmly in check. His lips were pressed into a thin, hard line, his shoulders rigid with the weight of what he'd just heard.

When Jason mentioned the ambush and how Briggs' men had taken Maggie and Dick, Bruce's knuckles whitened against the wheel. His nostrils flared slightly, but still, he said nothing, his silence more unnerving than any outburst could have been.

Jason's voice faltered momentarily, but Bruce's expression remained like stone—etched with a quiet intensity that spoke of a man calculating his next move, processing every detail, and considering every possible angle. The light from passing streetlamps flickered across his face, momentarily softening the sharp planes of his jaw, but his eyes remained cold, predatory, fixed on the road ahead as if each word fueled his resolve.

By the time Jason finished, Bruce's grip on the wheel loosened just enough to suggest he'd settled on a plan, though his face remained a mask of controlled fury.

Jason's arm instinctively tightened around Maggie, pulling her closer against him in the confined space of the Batmobile. The faint hum of the engine filled the silence, but it did little to drown out the pounding in his chest. He rested his chin lightly against the top of her head, his eyes dark with lingering tension. Maggie could feel the tension in his grip, the silent fear that lingered behind his usual bravado. She gently placed her hand over his, squeezing it in quiet reassurance.

"I'm okay," she whispered, though even she knew the words weren't enough to erase what could have happened.

Jason's jaw tightened, his mind racing through worst-case scenarios.The thought of what could have happened if Bruce and him had been even a few minutes later made his blood run cold.

Dick, leaning against the dashboard, let out a quiet sigh as if he was reading Jason'sthoughts. "Yeah, well, let's not dwell on it." His voice was softer now, though the usual lightness was missing. "We made it out. That's what counts."

Jason's grip on Maggie loosened just slightly, but he didn't let go. "Could've gone another way," he muttered under his breath, staring out the window at the passing Gotham skyline.

Bruce, still focused on the road, spoke without looking back. "You did what you had to," he said firmly.

Jason closed his eyes for a moment, nodding reluctantly.

"Mags, how come you didn't use your powers?" Dick asked, his curiosity piqued as he glanced at her from the front seat of the Batmobile.

Maggie shifted uncomfortably in Jason's hold, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "I didn't want to give my secret away," she admitted, her voice steady but thoughtful. "It's not like I was wearing a mask…"

Jason's arm tightening protectively around her. "Smart move," he muttered. "Briggs and his guys are already dangerous enough without them knowing you've got abilities they can exploit."

Dick nodded slowly, absorbing her reasoning. "I get it," he said. "If they saw you using your shadows, they'd start asking questions—ones we don't want them to have answers to."

Maggie sighed, leaning into Jason's side a little more. "Exactly. If I used them, it wouldn't take much for Briggs to put the pieces together. 'Bruce Wayne's daughter with powers' would be a headline Gotham's underworld would love to get their hands on."

Bruce, who had been silent so far, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "You made the right choice," he said, his eyes meeting hers briefly in the rearview mirror.

"Sometimes holding back is the best strategy, even when it feels like the hardest thing to do."

Maggie nodded, the weight of the decision still lingering on her shoulders. "Yeah, I just... I wasn't sure if I should've done more."

Jason turned to her, his voice softer now. "You did enough, Mags. More than enough."

Bruce didn't say anything, but there was a slight hint of approval in his expression as the Batmobile sped toward the safety of Wayne Manor. As the Batmobile glided into the Batcave, the familiar hum of the engine echoed against the cavern walls. The sleek vehicle came to a smooth stop on the platform, and the canopy hissed open, releasing the team into the soft glow of the cave's monitors and equipment.

Alfred was already waiting, standing by the medical station with his usual composed demeanor. His sharp eyes swept over the group, taking in their disheveled appearances and the bruises forming beneath their clothes. "Master Wayne," he said, his voice calm yet firm, "I trust the situation has been handled."

Bruce stepped out first, his cowl already in his hand. "Handled," he confirmed, his voice low and even. "Briggs and his crew are in custody."

Alfred nodded knowingly. "And young Master Todd?" His eyes flickered toward Jason, who helped Maggie out of the car, his protective arm still around her shoulders.

Jason rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly. "Still in one piece, Alfred, just a little banged up." He shot Maggie a look. "She's the one you should check out."

Maggie frowned but didn't resist as Alfred approached, his practiced hands already assessing her for injuries. "I assure you, Miss Maggie, I've had years of practice dealing with this family's stubbornness. Let's not add your name to the list."

She offered a tired smile. "Too late for that, Alfred."

Dick climbed out next, stretching with a groan. "I'm good, just a little sore. Might've taken a few too many hits, but nothing I can't walk off."

But as he took a step forward, he stumbled slightly, catching himself against the Batmobile. His attempt to brush it off was undercut by the way his balance wavered for a second too long. A clear sign something was off.

Jason was on him in an instant. "Yeah, right," he muttered, grabbing Dick's arm to steady him. "You're walking like a drunk, man."

Dick tried to wave him off, smirking faintly at Maggie. Alfred, already at his side, shot him a disapproving glare. "Master Grayson, I do believe we've established that you are not, in fact, invincible." He guided Dick toward the medical bay with a firm grip. "Sit. Now."

Dick sighed, but didn't argue. "Just a little dizzy, Alfred. I've had worse."

Bruce's voice, low and commanding, cut through the moment. "Sit down, Dick." He didn't even glance away from the Batcomputer, his tone making it clear there was no room for argument.

Maggie watched with concern as Dick reluctantly sat on the examination table. "You definitely have a concussion," she said, crossing her arms. "No 'walking it off' this time."

Jason smirked. "Yeah, you're grounded, man. No patrols for a while."

Dick groaned, closing his eyes for a moment as Alfred checked his pupils with a penlight. "Great, now I get to be the one stuck in the cave while you have all the fun."

Alfred, with the patience of a saint, continued his assessment. "Yes, well, considering the alternative involves significant brain trauma, I'd say it's a fair trade." He looked over his shoulder at Bruce. "He'll need rest and monitoring for the next twenty-four hours."

Bruce gave a slight nod.

Dick sighed, leaning back with a wince. "Guess that means I'll have time to go over security footage for you."

Bruce didn't respond, but the subtle flicker in his expression hinted at approval.

Maggie walked over, nudging Dick's knee gently. "Hey, at least you'll be here to help me convince Dad to let me suit up."