INT. GOTHAM STREETS - NIGHT
The rain is a cold, relentless downpour, turning the streets into slick, black mirrors. Dick, his face a mask of pain and fury, carries Barbara on his back. The bullet wound in his abdomen is a searing, fiery agony, but he ignores it. He is a man on a mission, a ghost in the machine, and he is going to get home. He moves with a desperate, driven energy, his feet pounding on the wet pavement.
He stops just a block away from Wayne Manor, the looming silhouette of the gothic estate a dark, menacing specter against the bruised sky. He gently puts Barbara down on a rooftop, her body a silent, trembling heap.
"I have to go," he says, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "I have to get to the manor. I have to help them."
He pulls out his phone, his fingers a blur of motion, and calls Tim. "Tim," he says, his voice a low, urgent murmur.
"Dick?" Tim's voice crackles through the phone, a welcome sound in a world of chaos. "Hey, man, how have you been?"
"No time," Dick says, his voice a raw, desperate shriek. "How quick can you and Jason get to Gotham? It's an emergency."
"Forty minutes," Tim replies, his voice full of concern. "Why? What's going on?"
"I need you to protect Barbara," Dick says, his voice a low, desperate whisper. "I'm sending you her location. Please, Tim. I need you to get here. I need you to keep her safe."
He hangs up the phone and looks at Barbara, his eyes a cold, hard gaze that promises nothing but violence. "Tim and Jason are on their way," he says, his voice a low, comforting whisper. "You'll be safe. I promise."
Barbara's hand is cold and trembling as she grabs Dick's arm. "Dick, please," she begs, her voice a low, desperate whisper. "It's too dangerous. You've already lost a lot of blood. At least wait for Tim and Jason to arrive."
Dick turns to face her, his eyes filled with a grim, unwavering resolve. "I have to go," he says, his voice a low, guttural rasp. "They're attacking the manor, B. Bruce is there. Damian is there. I have to help them."
He gently pulls his arm from her grasp, his eyes a cold, hard gaze that promises nothing but violence. "You will be safe, Barbara," he says, his voice a low, comforting whisper. "Tim and Jason are on their way. They'll protect you. I promise."
He turns and melts into the shadows, his body a silent, dark silhouette against the flickering moonlight. He is a man on a mission, a ghost in the machine, and he is going home.
INT. WAYNE MANOR - FRONT GATE - NIGHT
The rain is a cold, relentless downpour, turning the streets into slick, black mirrors. Dick, his body a mass of aches and pains, stands outside the gates of Wayne Manor, his eyes fixed on the house. The wrought iron gates, a symbol of safety and security, stand open, a silent, gaping maw. The front door of the mansion has been blown off its hinges, a gaping hole in the gothic facade of the house.
He looks at the scene, his mind a whirlwind of fear and desperation. He knows what he has to do. He has to go inside. He has to save them.
He pulls his Talon mask over his face, the cold, smooth plastic a familiar weight against his skin. He is no longer Dick Grayson, but a Talon, a ghost in the machine. He is here to save them all.
He walks toward the mansion, his footsteps a silent, predatory rhythm on the wet pavement. He is a man on a mission, a ghost in the machine, and he is going to get home.
INT. WAYNE MANOR - NIGHT
The grand foyer of Wayne Manor is a scene of utter devastation. The marble floors are cracked, priceless artwork is shattered, and the walls are riddled with bullet holes. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and plaster dust. Dick steps inside, his body a coiled spring of tension. He sees unconscious Court of Owls members scattered across the floor, their white masks a chilling contrast to the carnage.
"Hey! What are you doing on your own?" a voice barks from the shadows. A Talon, a new face he doesn't recognize, steps out, his armor scuffed and dented. "We have a prisoner in there that needs guarding."
Dick nods, a silent, predatory gesture. He falls into step behind the Talon, his movements fluid and silent, his mind a whirlwind of tactics and strategy. The Talon, oblivious to the danger, leads him down a long, dark hallway, the air growing colder with every step.
"What happened to you?" the Talon asks, gesturing to the bullet wound in Dick's abdomen.
"Ran into Batman," Dick lies, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "He was... uncooperative."
The Talon laughs, a low, humorless sound. "He's a stubborn one," he says. "But he'll break. They all do. Just a matter of time."
They stop in front of a heavy wooden door. The Talon opens it, and Dick steps inside. The room is a stark, empty space, lit only by a single, flickering lightbulb. And there, on her knees, her hands on her head, is Spoiler, her face a mask of fear and despair.
Dick's eyes, hidden behind the mask, flicked over Spoiler, assessing her condition, then back to the Talon.
"Is she the only prisoner?" Dick asks, keeping his voice low and casual, masking the intense focus underneath.
"For now," the Talon replies, completely at ease. "Batman and two of his sidekicks are trapped in the cave, and his butler is on this floor somewhere. The Grandmaster has them where she wants them."
"Good to know," Dick mutters, the words barely audible. He pivots, his good arm snapping out in a vicious, unexpected punch that connects squarely with the side of the Talon's helmet. The Talon stumbles, a surprised grunt escaping his lips as he crashes into the wall.
The two Court of Owls members guarding Spoiler immediately raise their firearms, training them on Dick.
"Drop it, Talon! Or the girl gets it!" one of them shouts.
The distraction, however, is all Spoiler needs. With a speed born of training and adrenaline, she launches herself off the floor. Her hands, which were resting innocently on her head, lash out to snatch the helmet off the closest guard, instantly blinding him. She then kicks the gun out of the second guard's hand with a snap of her leg. The sudden, chaotic action turns the tables in an instant.
The two Court members groan, unconscious or stunned, joining the first Talon on the floor. Spoiler, moving like a coiled viper, spins around. Her eyes, narrowed and fierce, lock onto the Talon standing over the scene-Dick.
She doesn't waste time on questions. She drops into a fighting stance, fists raised.
"Who the hell are you?" she demands, her voice sharp with adrenaline and suspicion. "You took out your own guy, but you're wearing their colors. Talk fast, or I'm putting you down next!"
Dick slowly raises his hands, a gesture of peace, and with a low metallic hiss, unclips the Talon helmet. He peels the cold plastic from his head, revealing his face-sweaty, pale, and streaked with blood.
Stephanie's eyes widen, her fighting stance faltering. The shock of seeing Dick Grayson in the enemy's armor is palpable.
"Dick? What-why are you wearing that? And you're bleeding," she demands, her voice dropping to a stunned, confused whisper as she finally registers the dark stain spreading across his abdomen.
"I know, Steph. It's a long story," Dick says, his voice strained but urgent. He glances toward the door. "But we don't have time. I'll explain everything later. Right now, we need to find Alfred."
Just as the name leaves his lips, the heavy wooden door barges open with a violent crash. Standing framed in the doorway is Alfred Pennyworth, his face a grim mask, clutching a very serious shotgun.
Alfred's eyes sweep the room, settling first on the unconscious Court members, then on Stephanie. His gaze lands on Dick, bloody and in the Talon armor. He immediately lowers the weapon.
"Master Dick!" Alfred exclaims, a mix of relief and concern washing over his features. "Thank heaven you made it. I assume your disguise was... a necessary evil?"
"It was, Alfred," Dick confirms, relieved to see the loyal butler unharmed. "Where are the others?"
Dick steadies himself against the doorway, gripping his side. The urgency in his eyes was paramount.
"Alfred, where are Kate and Thomas?" Dick asks, his voice tight with concern, glancing back at the hallway as if expecting them to walk through the door.
Alfred quickly moves to a heavy oak cabinet, pulling out a first aid kit, his face grave. "They are making their way to the Manor now, Master Dick. I informed them of the breach as soon as I could secure this area."
Dick nods once, taking a short, ragged breath. He needs information about the inner defenses. "What is the situation with the Cave?"
Alfred shakes his head, busy ripping open an antiseptic wipe. "I don't know, Master Dick. They managed to scramble the internal surveillance and communications quite effectively. I've been trying to get down there, but the main elevator shaft is completely locked down and rigged." He pauses, looking up with grim assurance. "But I know that Master Damian and Miss Cassandra are with Master Bruce. They were already in the Cave when the initial attack hit."
Alfred, his movements precise and practiced despite the urgency, steps toward Dick, opening the first aid kit.
"Master Dick, allow me to at least dress that wound," Alfred urged, his voice brooking no argument.
Dick, already pushing past the Talon's armor and dropping the borrowed pistol, shook his head. "There's no time, Alfred. Every minute-"
"And you are of no use to anyone if you bleed to death on the floor of the East Wing," Alfred countered sharply, gripping Dick's arm firmly to keep him still. "This will take thirty seconds."
Stephanie, watching the exchange and realizing the gravity of the situation, stepped forward, her face etched with worry. "Dick, wait. What's Barbara's situation? By the time we realized the Belfry was down, the Court had already hit the Manor."
Dick winced as Alfred efficiently slapped a large pressure bandage onto his side, ignoring Dick's protests. He kept his gaze locked on Stephanie.
"She is safe, Stephanie," Dick confirmed, the relief in her eyes making the pain slightly more bearable.
Stephanie let out a shuddering breath. "Oh, thank God. But-" Her relief instantly morphed back into intense confusion and suspicion as she gestured wildly at his bloodied armor. "Then what are you doing here? Why aren't you in Eastern Europe? And why in the hell are you wearing that?"
"I know, I know," Dick cut in, frustration and urgency battling in his voice. He secured the bandage with a hand that trembled slightly. "I promise, I will explain everything about the Talons and Evelyn and why I came back. But that explanation is going to have to wait until we've secured the Manor. We need to move. Now."
INT. WAYNE MANOR - SECOND FLOOR HALLWAY - NIGHT
The three figures-Dick, Stephanie, and Alfred-move through the damaged manor with practiced stealth, the thick carpet muffling their footsteps. They navigate the destroyed hallway toward the hidden entrance of the Batcave, which is concealed behind the old grandfather clock in Bruce's private study.
As they round the final corner, Dick pulls up short, pressing his back against the wall. Stephanie and Alfred freeze beside him. Peeking around the corner, Dick's eyes narrow. Two Talons stand sentinel outside the study door, their white masks unnerving in the dim hallway light.
Dick quickly pulls the Talon helmet back down over his head, the familiar visor snapping into place. He glances at Alfred and Stephanie, making a sharp hand gesture for them to stay put and keep quiet.
He steps out, moving with a confident, slightly swaggering stride despite the searing pain in his side. He approaches the two Talons.
"What's the situation?" Dick asks, his voice muffled by the helmet, adopting the low, flat tone of a true Talon.
"Just guarding the perimeter, same as before," one Talon replies, gesturing toward the study door.
"The plan's changed," Dick says, his voice authoritative. "Batman was just spotted in the South Garden. The Grandmaster needs all available hands there now. It was a clear sighting."
The first Talon tenses. "In the garden? How'd he get out of the Cave?"
"Doesn't matter now," Dick snaps. "What about guarding this entrance?" the second Talon asks, slightly hesitant.
"Leave that to me," Dick tells them, puffing up his chest slightly.
"You by yourself? And you're injured," the second Talon points out, noticing the blood on Dick's armor.
Dick leans in, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "I have reinforcements coming right behind me to help me guard this entrance. But you need to go now. The Grandmaster's orders were absolute: all available hands to the garden. Get moving!"
The two Talons exchange a look, deciding that disobeying the clear, urgent command of a comrade would be a greater risk than leaving the post. They nod curtly.
"Right. Let's go," the first Talon says, and the two turn and sprint down the hallway toward the nearest exit, leaving the entrance to the Batcave unguarded.
INT. WAYNE MANOR - BRUCE'S STUDY - NIGHT
Dick kept his body blocking the view of the hallway for a few tense moments, listening until the sound of the retreating Talons' footsteps had completely faded into the sounds of the distant conflict. He let out a low, ragged sigh of relief, then pulled off the helmet and gave a quick hand signal.
"Okay," he rasped, his voice tight from pain and exhaustion.
Alfred and Stephanie quickly emerged from their hiding spot. Alfred immediately went to the old grandfather clock, his fingers already flying over the gears and hidden levers necessary to disengage the security protocols that locked down the Batcave entrance.
Stephanie rushed to Dick's side, her earlier suspicion replaced by alarm as she got a clear look at his wound and his face.
"Dick, you look terrible," Stephanie whispered, her eyes wide with worry. "That bandage is soaked through. Are you sure you shouldn't-"
"I'm fine, Steph," Dick cut her off, his voice strained. He leaned heavily against the wooden frame of the doorway, his vision tunneling slightly. He tried to project a calm he didn't feel. "Just a graze. We need to get this door open."
"A graze doesn't make you look like you're about to pass out, Dick," Stephanie insisted, reaching out to support his good arm. "Seriously, sit down for a minute. Alfred's got the clock."
"I said I'm fine!" Dick snapped, the uncharacteristic sharpness of his tone instantly regretted. He pushed off the doorway, trying to appear steady. "It's just... adrenaline drain."
He took one deliberate step toward Alfred, intending to offer support or speed up the process. Instead, the floor seemed to tilt violently. The intense throbbing from the bullet wound, the residual ache from his previous fights, and the lack of proper medical attention all crashed down on him at once. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto one knee, his hand slapping hard onto the cold marble floor to keep himself from completely falling over.
Stephanie gasped and immediately dropped to her side. Alfred stopped his work on the clock, his hands hovering, torn between securing the entrance and attending to Dick.
"Dick! You idiot, you're not fine!" Stephanie cried, her voice rising in panic. She reached under his arm to help steady him. "Alfred, forget the clock for one second, he's going to bleed out!"
Dick struggled to lift his head, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold room. He gritted his teeth, fighting the overwhelming wave of dizziness.
"No... No, Alfred, keep going," Dick gasped out, the words barely a whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain control. "Steph, I told you... just exhaustion. I'll... I'll be right up."
"Exhaustion my ass! That's shock!" Stephanie hissed, pressing down hard on the wound on his side, ignoring his involuntary grunt of pain. "You are completely useless to Bruce, cass and Damian if you're unconscious! We have to get you medical attention now."
Alfred, his face a mask of concern, didn't move from the clock but spoke with firm authority. "Master Dick, your obstinance is admirable, but misplaced. I will have this open in a moment, but you must conserve your strength. Miss Stephanie, please apply sustained pressure. We will prioritize the Cave's MedBay as soon as we are inside."
Dick slowly managed to push himself back up to a kneeling position, leaning heavily against the wall this time. He looked up at Stephanie, his eyes clouded with pain but focused.
"Wayne Manor is under attack, Steph," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Bruce, Damian, and Cass are trapped. Kate and Thomas are on their way but will be walking into a bloodbath if we don't clear the way. And Barbara is alone on a rooftop waiting for Tim and Jason. Every second counts. I can't afford to be 'fine' right now."
He pushed himself the rest of the way up, swaying slightly, but remained on his feet. He had to be. There was no other option.
With a heavy CLUNK and HISS of pneumatics, the old grandfather clock in Bruce's study finally slid inward, revealing the dark, concrete maw of the secret entrance to the Batcave. Alfred stepped back, his face relieved but still grave.
"It is open," Alfred announced.
Dick, still leaning heavily against the wall, his face pale and clammy, immediately pushed off. "Let's move," he ordered, his voice raw with urgency.
But before he could take a step toward the entrance, Alfred's strong hand clamped onto his arm, stopping him cold.
"No, Master Dick," Alfred said firmly, his eyes unwavering. "Miss Stephanie will proceed to assist Master Bruce and the others. I am taking you directly to the Cave's MedBay."
Dick tried to pull free, frustration burning through his exhaustion. "No, Alfred, I can still fight!" he argued, adrenaline attempting a final, desperate surge. "I'm the one they know-I can use the Talon armor to my advantage-"
"You have done your part, Master Dick, and admirably so," Alfred cut in, his voice soft but absolute. "You neutralized the threat to Miss Barbara, saved Miss Stephanie, and cleared the path into the Cave. But you are running on sheer willpower and a great deal of blood loss. You need to rest before you push yourself too far."
"Alfred, listen to me," Dick pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. He looked down at his bloodied side, the guilt a heavier weight than the pain. "All of this happened because of me. The attack on the manor, Barbara being taken-it was all my gamble. I have to set things right! I have to finish this!"
Alfred looked at him, his face softening with deep, paternal concern, but his resolve remained steel-hard. "And you will, Master Dick. But a surgeon does not operate with a broken hand, and a warrior does not fight when his heart rate is too weak to sustain him. You are one of the finest warriors I have ever known, but even you have limits. Trust us to handle the clean-up. Your role now is to heal."
Stephanie stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Dick's shoulder. "He's right, Dick. Go with Alfred. I'll get to Bruce. We need you alive for the end of this."
INT. BATCAVE - CAVE ENTRANCE
Stephanie didn't waste a second. She gave Dick one last, determined look, then sprinted through the now-open entrance, descending the dark ramp toward the main cavern, eager to find Bruce, Cass, and Damian.
Alfred, meanwhile, slipped his arm under Dick's shoulder, taking most of the weight. Dick was swaying badly, his breathing shallow.
"Easy, Master Dick," Alfred murmured, guiding him carefully down the steps. "Just a few more feet. The MedBay will be a sanctuary."
They moved slowly across the metallic floor of the main Batcave, the colossal space echoing with an ominous silence, broken only by the hum of technology and the soft thud of their footsteps. They passed the Batmobile, the display cases of past uniforms, all shrouded in shadow and quiet, which was deeply unsettling.
Alfred finally reached the heavily reinforced door of the Medical Bay, punching in the code with one hand while supporting Dick with the other.
As the lock snicked and the green light flashed, the heavy door began to slide open. Dick leaned against Alfred, his head bowed, the weight of his failure and his wound pressing down on him.
"Sorry, Alfred," Dick mumbled, his voice low and heavy.
Alfred gently pushed the door fully open, ready to guide Dick inside. "Sorry for what, Master Dick? For saving Miss Stephanie and Miss Barbara? For clearing the path? There is nothing to apologize for."
Before Alfred could take a step into the sterile light of the MedBay, Dick's body tensed. With a sudden, surprising burst of adrenaline, he used his shoulder to shove Alfred hard into the room.
Alfred, taken completely by surprise, stumbled forward, falling onto a cushioned examination table with a muffled grunt. Before the butler could recover, Dick swung around, his hand flying to the control panel beside the doorway. He stabbed the emergency lock button.
The heavy door slammed shut with a final, resonant THUNK, and the locking mechanism engaged with a loud KERR-CHICK. Alfred was trapped inside.
"Dick! What in heaven's name are you doing?" Alfred's voice, sharp with shock and confusion, was muffled but audible through the reinforced door.
Dick pressed his forehead against the cool metal of the door, his breathing ragged. The action had drained the last of his energy, but his eyes were burning with a desperate resolve.
"I told you, Alfred," Dick said, his voice a low, painful rasp. "I have to set things right. This is all because of me." He pushed away from the door, his hand gripping the searing pain in his side. "You're the only one who can patch me up, and I can't have you slowing me down. I need you safe for when I get back."
"Master Dick, you are severely injured! You will die out there!" Alfred pleaded, his voice tinged with panic as he rattled the door handle, knowing the emergency lock was unbreakable from the inside without the manual code, which Dick wouldn't give him.
"Then I guess I have to make sure I don't die," Dick muttered, turning his back to the door and leaving Alfred safely imprisoned. He took one shuddering breath, pulled the Talon helmet back onto his head, and limped toward the main cavern, heading toward the chaos.
INT. BATCAVE – MAIN CAVERN
The metallic clang of the MedBay door locking behind him echoed briefly, followed by Alfred's muffled, desperate shouts. Dick ignored them, relying on pure, cold resolve to propel his failing body forward. The bullet wound was a constant, throbbing drumbeat of agony, and his movements were slow, each step an act of sheer will, forcing him to keep a hand braced against the cold, damp cave wall for support.
He moved past the main computer terminal and the display cases, the Talon armor now feeling less like a disguise and more like a heavy, suffocating cage.
As he reached the edge of the cavern's massive main floor, the chaos exploded into view. The main chamber of the Batcave—usually a sanctuary of control and logic—was a pitched battlefield. The air was thick with dust, the smell of ozone, and the sharp tang of sweat and blood.
In the center of the floor, under the harsh glare of the emergency lights, Evelyn was a whirlwind of lethal grace. She was dressed in a pristine white uniform, an unnervingly clean figure amidst the destruction, wielding a long, wickedly sharp Talon blade with terrifying skill.
Facing her, struggling to keep pace, were the scattered members of the Bat-Family:
Batman, grim and battered, was fighting with ferocious intensity, but his movements were noticeably slower than Evelyn's impossible speed.
Robin (Damian), despite his small stature, was a blur of aggressive strikes, his katana clashing repeatedly against Evelyn's blade.
Orphan (Cassandra Cain), the master of martial arts, moved like liquid shadow, constantly seeking openings, but Evelyn seemed to anticipate her every move with chilling precision.
Spoiler (Stephanie Brown), arriving just moments before Dick, had already engaged and was trying to use her environment and gadgets to disrupt Evelyn's rhythm.
In a brutal sequence that unfolded as Dick watched, Evelyn proved utterly overwhelming.
Stephanie, attempting a distraction with a smoke pellet, was intercepted by a lightning-fast back-kick that sent her flying into a concrete pillar. The sound of her helmet impacting the pillar was sickening, and she crumpled, unconscious.
Next, Orphan, lunging with a precise takedown, found her arms suddenly trapped. Evelyn twisted violently, using Orphan's own momentum to slam her into the ground, followed by a swift, calculated strike to a nerve cluster on her neck. Orphan went limp, her dark form motionless.
Damian fought with the ferocity of a caged animal, but Evelyn effortlessly parried his katana, then used the flat of her blade to deliver a stunning blow to the side of his head. Robin spun and fell, his small body skidding across the floor.
Now, only Batman remained standing. He dodged Evelyn's next strike, the Talon blade whistling inches from his cowl, and swung a powerful right hook. Evelyn caught his wrist with impossible speed. With a sickening CRUNCH, she twisted his arm, forcing him onto his knee, and then pressed the point of her Talon blade deep against his cowl, resting the tip right where his neck met his shoulder.
Batman froze, defeated.
Evelyn's voice, amplified by the cavern's acoustics, was cold, triumphant, and utterly merciless.
"It's over, Bruce," Evelyn announced, her breath coming in calm, even measures. "Your children are broken, your fortress is breached, and your reign is finished. You should have stayed dead."
Batman's low growl was barely audible. "You won't get away with this, Evelyn."
Evelyn chuckled, a dry, cruel sound. "I already have. I have your legacy, your secrets, and now, I have your life. Your only remaining Talon, the boy you raised, is about to witness the end of the Bat."
It was at this moment, leaning heavily on the wall, the Talon helmet concealing his agony, that Dick made his entrance into the main cavern. He was just another soldier arriving too late to matter.
Evelyn, basking in her triumph, had her blade pressed to Batman's neck. Her attention was wholly fixed on her defeated enemy.
"Your only remaining sidekick, the boy you raised, is about to witness the end of the Bat."
The Talon standing near the wall—Dick—straightened up, forcing his injured body away from the cold stone. He pushed off the support, taking two staggering steps into the light.
"You're right about one thing, Evelyn," Dick's voice rasped out, strained from pain but heavy with defiance. "I'm not a Talon."
He reached up, and with a weary, deliberate motion, he unclipped and pulled off the white Talon helmet.
The reveal sent a jolt through the cavern. Batman, pinned and helpless, strained against the blade. But it was Evelyn who showed the first, and only, break in her icy composure.
She whipped her head around, her eyes widening in genuine surprise and disbelief at the sight of Dick Grayson, pale, bloodied, and standing in the remnants of his uniform.
"Grayson," Evelyn breathed, the name a venomous whisper of shock. Her grip on Batman's arm faltered slightly, her focus entirely stolen. "That's impossible. You should be dead."
Dick let the helmet clatter to the metal floor. The sound was sharp and final, marking the death of his cover.
"Sam and Pauline failed," Dick stated flatly, ignoring the throbbing agony in his side. He saw his three teammates—Stephanie, Damian, and Cass—motionless on the floor, and his rage ratcheted up another notch. "They seem to have a problem finishing a job when I'm around."
Evelyn's eyes, cold and calculating, quickly swept over his body, noticing the obvious signs of a struggle: the blood seeping through the hastily applied bandage on his abdomen, the way he favored his right leg, the sheer exhaustion etched onto his face.
"And you made it all the way back here... injured?" Evelyn mused, her surprise giving way to cold analysis. A cruel smirk touched her lips. "If you are here, that means your little pregnant friend is safe, isn't she? Did you think you could save the girl and still save the world, Dick?"
Dick didn't flinch. "Barbara is safe, Evelyn. And I'm here to end your little war."
Evelyn slowly removed her blade from Batman's throat, but kept it raised and ready. Her eyes bored into Dick, a mixture of grudging admiration and pure, unadulterated fury.
"You are truly remarkable, Dick. A survivor," she conceded, stepping away from the prone figures. "But you're also a fool. Look at you! You can barely stand. You fought your way through my operatives, you were shot, and you ran all the way to Gotham while bleeding out. You threw away your life to save your former friends."
She tilted her head, her smile predatory. "You could have walked away. You could have won a different life. But you chose your death here, in this cold hole, just like your mentor."
"This isn't my death, Evelyn," Dick countered, pushing his shoulders back despite the pain. "It's the Court's."
Evelyn threw back her head and laughed, the sound echoing eerily in the vast cave.
"You, alone? Injured? Against me, the Grandmaster?" She scoffed. "If you had stayed a Talon, I would have made you a king. Now you're just another piece of trash for me to dispose of."
Evelyn's predatory amusement vanished, replaced by cold fury. She tightened her grip on the Talon blade.
"Enough posturing," Evelyn snarled. "If you want to die for your failure, I will happily oblige."
With a terrifying burst of speed that defied her elegant appearance, Evelyn charged Dick. The long, curved Talon blade was a silver blur aimed straight for his heart.
Dick threw up his arms, crossing them in a desperate attempt to defend. He was fast—years of acrobatic training and instinct took over—but his movements were sluggish, marred by the blood loss and the searing pain in his abdomen. The best he could manage was a clumsy parry.
The Talon blade slammed against his forearms, the force of the blow jarring him to his bones and sending him staggering back three long steps. Dick gritted his teeth against a yell of pain, his breath ragged. He tried to follow up with a knee strike, relying on the Talon armor's weight for momentum, but Evelyn was already gone.
She circled him with impossible speed, a white phantom of death, delivering a series of rapid, precise blows—a kick to his already-injured side, a strike to the base of his neck, and a sharp jab with the hilt of her blade to his temple.
Dick crumpled, his body failing him completely. He tried to raise his head, to find the strength to fight, but the world was spinning. He was too weak, too slow, and too thoroughly spent.
Evelyn stood over him, her face a mask of contemptuous triumph. She raised her blade high, intending to finish the job with a powerful, downward thrust.
"Goodbye, Dick Grayson," she whispered, her voice a promise of oblivion.
Just as the blade began its descent, a blur of yellow and black tackled Evelyn from the side with the force of a battering ram.
It was Signal (Duke Thomas), moving with desperate, superhuman speed, having just arrived from securing the manor's external perimeter with Batwoman. He hit Evelyn hard, diverting her from her deadly aim and sending her tumbling away from Dick, disrupting her concentration.
As Signal and Evelyn immediately became locked in a desperate, ferocious struggle, a second figure in dark military armor rushed toward Dick. Batwoman (Kate Kane) dropped to her knees beside him.
She quickly scanned his injuries, noting the blood-soaked abdomen and the white Talon armor. Her voice, usually sharp and commanding, was laced with confusion and concern.
"Dick? What in God's name—" Kate began, her mind reeling from the sight of her cousin's former partner dressed as the enemy. She saw the unconscious figures of Bruce, Damian, Stephanie and Cass. The severity of the situation immediately forced her to prioritize.
She gripped Dick's face firmly, making sure his cloudy eyes focused on hers. "We can talk about the costume and why you're here later, Dick. I'm getting you out now."
Kate didn't hesitate. She threw an arm under his back, intending to hoist him up and carry him to safety. But the effort was too much. The pain, the shock, the fatigue—it all finally claimed him.
Dick's eyes fluttered, his gaze resting one final, heavy time on the chaotic fight and the still figure of Batman in the background.
"Barbara..." he murmured, the name a final, whispered assurance.
Then, his eyes rolled back, and Dick lost consciousness, his full weight going limp in Batwoman's arms. Kate grunted with the effort of lifting him, her face set in grim determination as the battle raged on around her.
INT. BATCAVE – MEDBAY – LATER
A few hours later, the sterile silence of the MedBay is the first thing Dick registers. He is enveloped in the faint smell of antiseptic and ozone. He slowly, painfully, forces his eyes open.
The room is dim, but through the large glass wall of the MedBay, he sees the Bat-Family. The chaotic energy of their argument vibrates even through the thick pane.
They are all there, Bruce (Batman), still armored but looking battered; Damian (Robin), standing rigid with fury; Kate (Batwoman), sharp and intense; Stephanie (Spoiler), worried and animated; Tim (Red Robin) and Jason (Red Hood), flanking the group with simmering tension; Cassandra (Orphan), silent but radiating disapproval; and Duke (Signal), resting but observing everything.
They are arguing with Bruce, who stands silently receiving their anger. Alfred—released from his lock-up and now dressed in his civilian clothes—stands protectively beside Bruce, attempting to diffuse the situation.
Alfred's voice, though muffled by the glass, is strained. "...a necessary risk, Master Tim! Master Bruce was aware of the dangers! He was simply trying to navigate a crisis that Master Dick presented to him!"
Beside Dick's bed, a warm, soft presence immediately registers. Barbara. She is sitting in a chair, her head resting on the mattress near his shoulder, her hand loosely holding his. She looks exhausted, but physically unharmed, wearing a thick sweater and jeans.
She shifts slightly, and her eyes snap open. The moment she sees his eyes focused, her face transforms with immediate, overwhelming relief.
"Dick!" she exclaims, her voice cracking.
Forgetting his injuries entirely, she lurches forward, throwing her arms around him in a fierce, protective embrace.
"O-ow, Barbara!" Dick gasps, the sudden pressure on his freshly stitched abdomen sending a jolt of white-hot agony through his body. "As much as I predicted the hug... I am in a lot of pain."
Barbara pulls back instantly, her eyes widening with guilt and panic. "Oh, God, Dick, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking!"
She looks him over, her hands fluttering near his bandages, unsure where to touch. Then, her gaze softens, filling with all the worry and love she couldn't express while he was gone. She leans down slowly, gently cupping his face.
"I thought I lost you," she whispers, before pressing a deep, tender kiss to his lips.
The sight, visible through the MedBay glass, stops the heated family argument instantly. Every single Bat-Family member turns to stare, silence falling over the cavern like a shroud.
Tim drops the datapad he was holding. Jason's jaw hangs slightly ajar beneath his helmet. Damian looks utterly scandalized, his posture rigid with disbelief. Kate raises an eyebrow so high it nearly disappears into her cowl.
Stephanie (Spoiler) breaks the silence, her voice echoing with utter, genuine shock.
"Holy shit!" Stephanie yells, throwing her hands up. "They were making out! Since when does that happen?!"
Alfred pinches the bridge of his nose, the argument instantly forgotten. "Good heavens."
Inside the MedBay, Dick pulls back from the kiss, a faint smile touching his lips despite the pain.
"Told you you'd be safe," he murmurs, his hand finding hers.
"Shut up and rest," Barbara whispers back, trying to regain her composure, though her cheeks are flushed. She turns to the glass wall and shouts, loud enough to be heard over the glass: "We're having a private moment, guys! Give him some space, he just got shot!"
Jason throws his hands up in defeat from behind the glass. "Well, that explains the weird looks you both always give each other!"
Damian stares at his brother and Barbara with the confused, intense scrutiny of a biologist observing a bizarre new specimen. "The sheer emotional volatility! This level of public display is… undignified."
Bruce, silent until now, only gives a faint, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment to Dick, a silent communication that spoke volumes: I knew, and thank you for saving her.
Stephanie, unable to contain herself, pounds lightly on the glass. "Dick! Are we going to talk about the Talon armor or your love life first?! Because I'm going to need a flow chart for this mess!"