Prompts

desperate measures | failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

Chapter 14: die a hero or live long enough to become a villain

Rose makes it to the end of the corridor on her knees. Then there’s a ladder, an access hatch to get into the airlock, and she has to stop. She slumps against the wall. 

Dick crouches next to her. “You want your sleeve again?”

She shakes her head. Her face is pale, drawn tight with pain. “Just do it.”

He nods. He takes her right arm in his hands. 

“How’d they get the drop on you?” he says. “Thought you were better than that.”

Her mouth twists in indignation. “I am,” she says, “but Lian—” 

Dick pushes her arm back in. She screams. Dick backs off. 

“What happened to Lian?” he says, when Rose takes a ragged breath. She glares at him. 

“She’s fine. She’s with the League.”

“The League—of Assassins?”

Rose braces her relocated arm against the wall and stands up. She’s still shaky, but she starts climbing the ladder without any help. 

“Better them than this,” she snaps. Dick has to agree with her there.

“We were together,” she says at the top of the ladder. Dick climbs up after her. The manual airlock looms ahead of them. “When all this started. We went to meet up with her mom. She was with the League—they all went to ground as soon as shit got bad—” She shrugs. Then she winces. “We weren’t fast enough. They caught up with us in Star. Lian got out, though.”

“I thought the League might be working with the Crime Syndicate,” Dick says. 

Rose snorts. “Not in a million years. You’ve met Ra’s al Ghul.”

Now Dick laughs. It hurts his ribs, but it’s worth it to laugh. “True.”

He opens the airlock. He seals the door behind them and turns the manual timer. It ticks away at the countdown to open the outer door. A panel next to the timer warns him to make sure his spacesuit is secure. 

“Do you know where we are?” he says. 

Rose gives him a harried look. “Yeah?” she says. “Happy Harbor. Rhode Island. In the United States.”

“Oh,” Dick says. He didn’t know that. It’s closer to Gotham than he dared hope, and still so far away. 

Rose keeps looking at him. “You didn’t know that,” she says.

The airlock opens. Fresh air pushes through the gap. It smells like saltwater and gasoline, rotting fish and metal. It smells like home. 

Owlman stands on the other side of the door. 

Rose stumbles back, swearing under her breath. Dick steps in front of her. He’s half naked, injured, but he’s still on his feet. Rose is bleeding from half a dozen places, cradling a broken arm against her chest. She's not healing, which means she's exhausted and hungry and much worse off than she looks. She’s only here because she helped Lian. He said he would get her out of here. He’s going to keep his word. 

“Hello, Dick.” Owlman smiles. The armored cowl hides the rest of his face. His round lenses glow blue. 

“Owlman,” Dick says. He assumes a defensive stance. Owlman’s mouth quirks to the side. “I thought I might find you here.” 

“And you still came,” Owlman says. 

Dick searches for something else to say, some witty retort to keep Owlman talking and draw out the confrontation. The words that rise behind his teeth are caustic and bitter—not charming, not engaging, just angry and tired. 

He’s so tired of this. 

He drops his voice. “Rose, go, now. I’ll be right behind you.” 

He doesn’t see Rose’s reaction. His eyes are locked on Owlman. Watching for him to move, waiting for him to strike. He knew it was going to end this way. He knew as soon as he left the cell. He’s mildly surprised that he made it this far. 

Only Rose is with him. Only he said he would get her out of here. If it’s the last thing he does—he wants it to be a good thing. 

“You two know each other,” Owlman says. “The daughter of your enemy. I can’t say I’m surprised.” His lip curls slightly. “Though I had hoped for better.”

“Your mistake,” Dick says. 

He hears Rose move behind him. He feels her weight shift. He takes the cue and launches himself at Owlman. 

Owlman grabs him by the arms. His clawed gloves bite into Dick’s skin. Dick swings his legs forward to wrap them around Owlman’s waist and twists, pulling all of his weight to balance Owlman’s. 

Owlman falls. They go down together, grappling on cold metal.

It’s not a fair fight. Dick is injured. His chest is littered with signature marks. His back is covered in lashes. He’s unarmed, half naked, barefoot, with the lingering effects of a concussion still clouding his brain. He knows all of this. He knows it won’t last long. 

It doesn’t need to last. He just needs to give Rose a chance to disappear. 

Owlman grabs him in a restraining hold. Dick slithers out of it, but Owlman’s talons rake down his back. He can’t stop the scream. He stumbles away, holding a defensive stance. His whole body pulses with adrenaline and pain. 

“At least he taught you to fight,” Owlman says. His voice is as cold as ever. He stares Dick down with those blue lenses. “Not well enough. But at least he made something of you.” 

“Bruce didn’t make me anything,” Dick says. It’s too sharp. It proves that Owlman’s comment hit close to home. The man smiles again. 

“You know it’s pointless,” he says, almost offhand. “We’ll find her later. We’ll make an example of her.” He tilts his head. “The children went too quickly. I think her death will last longer.”

Dick bares his teeth. He wants to attack again, but he needs to conserve his energy, and as long as Owlman is taunting him, he isn’t hunting Rose. 

Owlman watches him for a few seconds longer. Then he steps inside Dick’s reach and grabs for his neck. Dick tries to block him. Owlman wrenches past his defense and digs razor-sharp claws into his neck. He flips Dick around and pulls his arm behind his back. His other arm swings free, but there’s not much Dick can do with Owlman holding his neck. 

He pulls weakly at the hold. He could get out of it—he knows how—but the blades at his neck hold him back. If he pulls too hard, they’ll cut into his neck. He doesn’t think Owlman will let him die. That doesn’t mean cutting open his throat will go well. 

“Pathetic,” Owlman hisses. He pulls Dick flush against his chest. The metal plates on his suit grind against the open cuts on Dick’s back. “You could have made it out, you know. If you hadn’t stopped.”

Dick refuses to believe that. This was a trap from the start. He knew it was a trap, and he walked right into it. 

“He made you weak,” Owlman says. “Willing to give yourself up for the lowest of the low. He broke you.” 

“You haven’t seen me broken,” Dick snarls. Owlman’s claws press against his skin.

“I will,” he growls. “You’ll see.”