StarDestroyer.Net BBS

This fic is one of three I've had ideas for, and will be planting some seeds for bits of the other two. This, naturally, is just the opening of the fic, written over the course of this past night due to inspiration.


And JME, IIRC I haven't brought this particular idea up with you yet, but I think you'll like who will be featured in it. I only hope I do the characters justice....

And so I present to you Justice League Unlimited: Second Chances, set just after the timeframe of "I am Legion".



Riley's Pub was just another hole-in-the-wall for the local ne'er-do-wells of one of Gotham's poorer districts. The local population was of Irish extract and dominated the usual clientele of the place, playing darts or watching one of the three old TVs situated at the corners while enjoying their favorite poisons. It wasn't a "pick up" bar, with very few women ever coming in (and most of them wives hunting for a husband late to come home, at that). Once and a while one of the local thugs would show up to collect the protection money for the local Hannity capo - a subsidary, so to speak, of the Thorne organization - and would always glance nervously to ensure he wasn't going to get a visit from 'the Bat' on his way in or out.
It was 1AM. A single individual sat alone at the bar, the only movement made all night being a glance at the TV screen when the reporter mentioned that Lex Luthor was still at large after a recent "daring escape". He was half-drunk from Scotch, graying brown hair unkept and a beard and mustache grown scraggly by neglect. His glasses looked to be about the most expensive item he had on, given how cheap his brown jacket and light brown pants looked.
"Another," he mumbled to the two hundred and eighty pound barkeep, pushing his glass forward.
"Hey, Gramps, you've had enough tonight," the man replied, intent on wiping out a washed glass. "'Sides, you haven't paid your tab in over a week. I want my money."
"You'll get your money this Friday," the scraggled man mumbled.
"I'd better see every red cent, or I'll be having my lad Billy kicking you out the door the next time I see you, clear? Now get out."
The man nodded. His shoulders haunched down and a blank, empty look on his face, the man left Riley's.
From there he began to walk down the road toward "home", a modest apartment about six blocks away. The city was dark save for where street lights functioned, every bit the image that Gotham City gave to the rest of the world. It wasn't like Metropolis, that bright and shining jewel. This city was a pit, a corrupt and stinking cesspool of urban decay.

He only made it three blocks when, for the second time since his move to Gotham, the man was accosted by local toughs. The first time his attackers had contemptfully looked at the three dollars he had on him and left for richer prey.
This gang was local, a street-level affiliate of the Hannity gang, violent teens who were in it for fun more than money. "I don't have any money," he protested as he was dragged partially into the alley. This was answered by a kick to his stomach that made him double over and hit the ground, his glasses falling off. Several kicks landed on his legs, shoulders, and back before the kids went to rifling his pockets. When they found that his wallet only contained ten dollars, they shouted, "What the f#*@ is this sh!&?! You ain't worth nothin' old man!" Angry, they started to kick him again. One of the toughs brought a foot down on his glasses, smashing them.

The kicking didn't last long enough to do any damage. "Didn't someone ever tell you to respect your elders?", a female voice rose in challenge. The kids began to shout out "the Batgirl!" and began to run. The man remained on the ground, not quite willing to move for several moments. By the time he did, he saw that the four or so kids who had accosted him were on the ground moaning. A single caped figure emerged from the shadow of the deep ally. Her costume was dark blue, with a yellow bat symbol prominent on her chest. The mask part of her hood had the standard "bat ears" with holes for lovely blue eyes, an opening in the back allowing red hair to descend to her shoulders. "Here," she went to hand the man's opened wallet to him. "Mister...." She looked down to where his ID was and her eyes widened a bit and then changed to show anger. "Professor Hamilton," she said in an angry tone.

Emile Hamilton stood to his feet, or what passed for standing. In Batgirl's withering gaze he couldn't bring himself to raise his shoulders or straighten himself, given to the despair of his life. "Batgirl, thank you."
"Don't thank me," she spat back. "Supergirl is my friend, and what you did to her..." She tossed the wallet at him, and he barely caught it against his chest. "Just stay away."
She raised her right arm, her grappling gun in hand, and was about to fire it when Hamilton reached out. "Wait, please, if you know Supergirl.... I want to speak with her. Please."
Batgirl looked over her shoulder, eyes smoldering with contempt. "She's suffered enough as it is."
"I want to apologize to her for what happened. All I need is two minutes."
Hamilton's reply was silence, another second of her icey glare, ended by the sound of the grappling gun fired. It hooked onto a piece of building in the shadows and she rose upward along the line, disappearing into the dark alley. Hamilton's eyes followed her until she disappeared behind a building, a shadow by that point.

He walked along, returning home, everything in sight fuzzier now that he had no glasses. Nothing happened now to interrupt his thoughts on what had happened.
Once upon a time, he had been a leading researched at S.T.A.R. Labs in Metropolis. He had worked with Superman on many occasions, thwarting threats worldly and otherwise to Metropolis and to the Earth itself.
And then that dreadful day had come. Cadmus had confirmed, for the most part, that Darkseid had brainwashed the Man of Steel, rewriting his memory to make him believe he was Darkseid's adopted son, and sending him to attack Earth, certain he would be killed only after devastating the planet. Superman had regained his memories upon defeat, broke out of the military's holding facility, and came to S.T.A.R. Labs so that Supergirl - mortally wounded by the military - could be healed, and so that he could use the Mother Box to travel to Apokolips and face Darkseid.
At that moment, everything he had worked for with Superman died. Fearful of the government, of losing everything he had earned for himself and his family, Hamilton had refused to treat Supergirl and save her life. And Superman had reacted as, hindsight said, he should have; with anger and desperation to save the life of his adopted cousin.
Hindsight is 20/20, it is said. And this was true in this case as in any other. Hamilton knew that he should have understood why Superman acted that way, that he had been wrong to deny life-saving treatment to Supergirl, but he had not. He had acted out of fear, and anger at Superman for causing him that fear. He had used the operation to save Supergirl to take DNA samples, and with those in hand he approached the government to join any effort into making weapons to stop Superman and his kind if they ever threatened Humanity. And so he had been directed to Amanda Waller and Project Cadmus. Galatea had been the result.

Galatea had treated him like a father, but he not realized that the subtleties of Kryptonian neurology would allow for the psionic link that connected her to Supergirl and which caused the experiences and thoughts of one to connect to the other. Galatea's missions, including the assassinations of Gilbert Holstrom and General Hardcastle, were lived by Supergirl in nightmares, and Supergirl's conscious made Galatea feel regrets that diminished her will to follow Waller's orders. Galatea became impatient with the thoughts preventing her from following orders - and in her mind, pleasing her 'father' - and this turned into hate for Supergirl, a hate that only grew when their first meeting at Nuvo-Gen led to Galatea's defeat and hospitalization. The tragedy had climaxed in the Justice League's Watchtower, which Galatea had been sent to destroy when Waller believed the League was going rogue, and when Waller ordered her to withdraw upon discovering Luthor's responsibility for the incident, Galatea had been so consumed by her desire to kill Supergirl that she had refused. The end of their fight left Galatea with near-permanent nerve damage, and Hamilton never saw her again - he was certain she had been killed by Waller because of the danger her fractured mind made her into.
It was, perhaps, the worst of his sins.

As he came up to the apartment building Hamilton caught sight of a figure sitting by a heating vent. Given the size and body shape, it was a teenage girl in a tattered old gray sweater and black sweatpants, trying to escape the Gotham chill. He walked up beside her and his shadow caused her to look up. The structure of her face and the yellow tint to her skin was clearly Oriental, but the eyes that met Hamilton's were green in color, a sign of Caucasian heritage. She said nothing, and her facial expression was unusually reserved for a homeless teenage girl living on the street. Hamilton briefly wondered what led her to this place in life, haunted somewhat by the fact that she looked to be about the age of his oldest daughter. "Looks like you've had hard times too." The temptation to give her a place to stay came and immediately left; his landlords were strict about visitors staying the night as a security measure, as it helped keep their insurance rates down.
Neither did Hamilton quite have the strength to just ignore the girl, though. He reached into his wallet and took out the only ten dollars he had on him. "Here," he said. "There's a place around the corner, on 20th Street, where ten dollars will get you a warm meal and some leftovers."
The girl accepted the money, but said nothing. Hamilton was puzzled as to why she remained silent, but he could at least see the gratitude in her eyes. She watched him as he walked into the building.

His room was on the fifth floor. It was a dirty little apartment, but all he could afford right now. The door opened to the dining and living room, the painfully small kitchen to the right with an old refridgerator and an electric range with a broken oven and only two functioning burners. Further down to the right was the bedroom and a bathroom connected to it, all sparsely furnished.
Here, he could not hide from the direction his life had gone. Everything had gone downhill about a week after the climactic fight in Washington between the Justice League and the merged being of Brainiac and Lex Luthor, when the public's apprehensions about the League had again evaporated and turned into uncompromising support. Several media outlets received files and media relating to Project Cadmus and some of it's operations, all from an unknown source, and it included the information on Galatea and other projects Hamilton had been involved in, even some of the memos related to the Lexor City plot when Superman had been manipulated into destroying Luthor's "power generator" and Hamilton's role in the deception. The revelation first cost him his marriage and family. His children were all fans of the superheroes, and his teenage daughter adored Supergirl - they hated him now. His wife threw his things in the car and told him to get out, not being able to stand what he had done no matter his reasons. When he tried to explain himself it, how he had refused to operate on Supergirl at first for fear of what the government would do to the family and how Superman's actions had driven him, it merely made matters worse, earning him a slap on the cheek and a literal kick out of the door, her last words being simply, "You disgust me". The divorce was filed the next day.
S.T.A.R. Labs was next. Two days after the divorce papers had been filed by his wife's lawyer, Hamilton was called in for a meeting with the Board of Directors. S.T.A.R. Labs' reputation was at stake, their connection to Cadmus through Hamilton had left them in danger of losing sponsers and donors, the S.T.A.R. Labs kryptonite from the Lexor City plot was feared as leaving the company open to lawsuits from the insurance companies which had sold policies related to the city, and Hamilton had broken regulations by not destroying Supergirl's leftover genetic material from the surgery and for handing it over to another agency. His job - and tenure - had been terminated without any further comment. They hadn't even given him the dignity of public resignation in lieu of termination.
Now no company or university in the country would hire him, not with his name so heavily linked, publicly, to the scandals concerning Cadmus and it's campaign against the Justice League. His foreign job offers - all from less-than-respected countries - were all no-go as well, as he knew too much about Cadmus and Waller had made it perfectly clear that he "wouldn't live long enough to punch in for his first day" if he accepted one of them.

This was what he was reduced to. A cheap apartment in Gotham City, living off a small pension that Waller had managed to secure for him, and with nothing to do but drink his cares away. Only half-sober, Hamilton stumbled to his bed still wearing his clothes, closing his eyes and waiting to sleep.
A slight sound from the window rustled him to wakefulness. He fumbled for his glasses by habit before remembering they'd been broken. Not wasting time, he looked to the window and tried to see what had woken him up.
Supergirl was hovering outside.
It was a new costume, he could see. She had replaced the bare mid-riff white shirt with a blue one similar in color and design to the one Superman wore, and her red skirt was immodestly high on her thighs. She remained where she was, arms crossed over her chest, cape blowing to her right in the cool wind.
Hamilton lifted the window up. "Two minutes," she said.
Speaking softly, Hamilton first said, "Supergirl, thank you for coming."
"One minute fifty seconds," was the cold reply.
"I... I didn't want it to be you. I didn't mean for it to be you. It wouldn't have been you if I had been given a good sample from Superman, but Luthor had no more."
She clearly wasn't impressed. "One minute twenty seconds."
"I know how much pain I've caused you, and I... I..." Words failed him for a moment. Fear began to creep into him again, that irrational terror from knowing that if she chose she could incinerate him at that spot and no one would ever know.....
"Got a minute left, Hamilton. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight...."
Swallowing, Hamilton forced the fear back. It was ridiculous. Supergirl had a conscious. She was a hero. She wouldn't do such a thing, even to someone she had every right to hate. "I'm sorry, Supergirl. I'm sorry for what I did to you, the betrayal of your trust, everything. I acted out of fear. I'm... I'm truly sorry, and if there was ever any way I could make it up to you, I would."

Supergirl remained silent for a moment, and Hamilton almost thought he could see red appear in her eyes. But it hadn't, he knew, and she finally broke her silence. "And what about my clone? The one you turned into a weapon, who nearly killed me and everybody aboard the Watchtower? She was a living person, and you let them make her into nothing more than a weapon, a thing."
"I know. I... I should have insisted on giving her a better upraising, making her into something human and not... what they made her. But I was afraid they'd..."
"She's dead, isn't she?" Supergirl said.
"Probably. I wasn't told of what they did to her."
"Then that's on your head too. You violated me and you let them destroy her. How can you live with yourself?"
"I.... I can't...."
"Then maybe you should do something about that," Supergirl replied irritably. "Maybe it's time you started to show some courage instead of letting your fear tell you what to do. It clearly hasn't done you any good." With that said, Supergirl flew away, so fast Hamilton couldn't tell which way she went.

He went to close his window when he noticed movement in the shadows of the alley below. he looked down and, through the grating of the fire escape, he could see the teenage girl from earlier standing there, looking up at him with her jade eyes, looking very cold.
With Supergirl's words still fresh in his mind, Hamilton motioned to her to come up. The girl jumped upward and snatched the rail of the fire escape, clambering upward and jumping quickly, yet quietly, until she got to the window, where Hamilton let her in. He looked her over, quite surprised at how fast she had moved. "I can't let anyone know you're here," he whispered to her as he closed the window. He went to his nearby closet and pulled out some of the few garments he had left, a T-shirt and pants. He gestured toward the bathroom. "Why don't you go wash up and put on some clean clothes? I'll go make you some soup."
The girl didn't audibly reply, but she was at least able to understand him somehow, as she picked up the clothes and headed to the bathroom. Hamilton sighed and headed to the kitchen, looking for some of the canned soup he had in the pantry.
Giving the girl a warm meal and a bath, despite the risk of eviction, wasn't exactly a world-saving act of courage, but he hoped it was a start.


The only light in Barbara Gordon's apartment was from her computer monitor, save for the brief light that came from the bathroom when Kara came out wearing a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her blonde hair. "What are you up to?" Kara asked Barbara.

"Shhh." Barbara held her headset closer to her head. "Yes, Huntress, I'm sure the drugs are in there. Thorne's people shouldn't give you too much of a problem. Going by the blueprints, the access hatch on the roof is your best entrance. Good. Now get to it." Barbara tapped her keyboard. "I'm here, Canary, Arrow. The outfit is definitely Kobach's people. Watch out, those Russians will be packing lots of heat and aren't afraid of using it. Give me a minute and I might be able to get you Static and..... yes, I know they're just kids, Arrow, but Dakota is their home turf and Static's powers should even things up a bit. Yes, thank you for trusting my judgement." The last sentence was full of sarcasm as Barbara hit another key.
"Just what are you doing?"

"Batgirl's only good at helping to protect Gotham," Barbara explained to Kara. "But with the computer skills I've picked up over the years, I can do more from here than I could in a cape. They don't know who I am, they just know that some unknown hacker going by the name 'Oracle' keeps contacting the street-level Leaguers to feed them intel on the things that tend to go beneath the notice of the League."
"That's cool. But why haven't you given me any jobs?"

"Haven't had a chance yet. Whenever you're on duty you're usually off fighting monsters and dealing with disasters." Barbara's fingers moved over the keyboard again and a dialing tone came over the headseat. "Static, this is Oracle.... yes, I know it's late, but it's not a school night. Black Canary and Green Arrow are at the Dakota docks right now and could use some backup from a guy with your magnetic charm. Bring your buddy if you want, but you've got about ten minutes, I say, before Canary busts in anyway. Yeah, have fun." She again switched lines. "Canary, this is O. You've got Static and Gear coming for backup. And be careful, they might have RPGs, I don't want to have the Dakota police cleaning you and Arrow off the wall."

"Some sleepover," Kara muttered.
"So, what happened with Hamilton?"
"Oh, he's really sorry for everything that's happened, yeah," Kara muttered. "I'll believe it when I see him do something other than mope around in a rundown apartment."
"Well, at least justice was done in his case. His family's seen him for the scum he is and S.T.A.R. Labs fired him. He's living on little handouts from Waller now."
"Too bad Waller didn't go down like he did."

Barbara shrugged and was suddenly distracted by a tone over her earpiece. "Oh no, it's Question again."
"Question?"
"Yes, he heard about me through Huntress and is always bugging me on finding 'them', as he puts it. Whoever he thinks is secretly controlling the world." Barbara moaned before putting him on. "Okay, Q, what is it? Look, I already told you, it's physically impossible for a server to be at that IP, okay? Do you know the meaning of that word? Q, claiming that is what you always do when your 'leads' hit dead-ends, are you sure you're not falling for some prank....?"


The room was dark, and the simple servant entered and bowed to the lone occupant. "Surveillance of the Professor reports he had a late night visit from Supergirl and that he has now taken in a street rat."
A female voice answered the underling. "I guess Professor Hamilton is showing a slight conscious now. I suppose Supergirl's visit is linked to the incident involving the mugging attempt and encounter with Batgirl you earlier mentioned?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Very well, you may go."

The man left. The woman returned to the next room and remained standing, reverant of the robed figure seated in the leather chair before her in the dimly lit study. "Father, we are almost ready. But what of Batman?"
"The Detective has allowed himself to be distracted by matters concerning the Justice League for some time," was the reply from the Demon's Head - Ra's al-Ghul - as he looked up from a book in his lap. "He has left his city in the care of his pupils, who are not as capable as he is. We must take advantage of this situation."
"Yes, Father," replied Talia. "I will make the arrangements regarding Professor Hamilton immediately." She departed the room.
Ra's looked back to his book. His body, temporarily restored and even strengthened by the power of Superman years ago, was again starting to decay beyond the ability of the Lazarus Pit to restore.
But soon enough, this would not be a concern for him any longer.

This is interesting, please continue. I liked Hamilton from STAS and was shocked when he joined Cadamus in JLA. It's nice to see what happened to him.

Very nice. Very, very nice. If there was one thing that Team Timm dropped the ball on in that last season, it was on what happened to Hamilton post-Cadmus. Don't get me wrong, the confrontation with Superman in Question Authority was great; I was just hoping for more of a follow-up.

And of course, it looks like you're about to bridge the gap between STAS' "The Demon Reborn" and BBeyond's "Out of the Past" in regards to Ra's. Can we expect to see a certain Near Apocalypse?

I like it so far, its good to see Hamilton again, did he have a family in STAS?

Like seeing Barbara as Oracle and still able to walk, wonder how big her network is gonna get

I want more, please finish.

FaxModem1 wrote:I like it so far, its good to see Hamilton again, did he have a family in STAS?

I might be wrong, but I think Timm and Co hinted at one in one of the STAS Episode Commentaries.

Like seeing Barbara as Oracle and still able to walk, wonder how big her network is gonna get

That was the one thing I almost changed before posting. I began to question whether I should have her going Oracle or not, and I decided to go ahead, since it sets up what will be the third JLU fic plot arc I intend to do if, well, I do them all.

I want more, please finish.

I'll try.

JME2 wrote: And of course, it looks like you're about to bridge the gap between STAS' "The Demon Reborn" and BBeyond's "Out of the Past" in regards to Ra's. Can we expect to see a certain Near Apocalypse?

Without spoiling anything, I'll say that I intend to bridge that gap at least partially.

I admit some reluctance to actually write the Near Apocalypse of '09, though. I'm still holding out hope that Bruce Timm might one day give us a DTV of it and I certainly don't want to end up contradicting him.

"You're not welcome here, Mister Hamilton."
There was no mistaking the hostility in the voice of the older woman. Doctor Leslie Thompkins stood at the entrance to her clinic, glaring at Hamilton intensely. "I didn't come here for myself, Doctor Thompkins," Hamilton explained humbly. He put a hand on the shoulder of the young girl who had spent the night in his apartment, dressed in some of his clothes. "She may need medical attention and therapy. I thought maybe you could help."
Thompkins looked toward the girl. "And who is she?"
"I don't know. She's a homeless girl who was outside my apartment last night, so I let her in to bathe, eat, and sleep. But I noticed this morning that she had some bruises on her hands, and she hasn't said a word yet."
"I see you're new to Gotham, Mister Hamilton," was her initial reply. After looking at the girl for another moment, Thompkins sighed. "Come in, Mister Hamilton. I'll give her a look."

Inside Thompkins' nurse, returning from lunch, brought the girl to the back and forced Hamilton to remain in the waiting room. From his seat in the small room he watched as, once and a while, others would come, all looking rather poor. Children sneezing and coughing, elderly in tattered rags of clothes looking as if every moment was filled with misery, and concerned parents with sickly small children, all of it a side of life Hamilton had rarely seen before. One by one, the nurse would come for them and call them back.
It was some time later that the nurse re-appeared and asked Hamilton to follow her through the door. In the clinic proper, Hamilton was surprised to see that the equipment was in excellent shape; he'd been expecting them to have hand-me-down half-broken equipment for the most part, like any other "free clinic" around.
The final destination was Thompkins' office. She was waiting there with the girl, who was seated in a chair. "She's fine," was Thompkins' first remark. "No signs of abuse, only some malnutrition to be expected for someone living on the street. The wounds on her hands do seem to be defensive, though."
"She was attacked?"
"A teenage girl alone in the streets of Gotham?" was the reply, a rhetorical question with it's answer already evident. "But what most concerns me is that she is not only apparently mute, but she is completely illiterate."
Hamilton found he wasn't as surprised as he thought he should be. Thompkins could see it, too. "Do you have any suggestions?"
"There are tests that could be run, but I don't have the equipment here. This is a free clinic, not a hospital. So unless you intend to dig into your government friends' pockets, there's nothing more that can be done."

"I don't have any government friends willing to give me that kind of money," Hamilton replied. "Is there anyone I could talk to, anyone?"
"By your own admission, you barely know this girl, and you're certainly not a legal guardian. Why do you consider this so important?"
Hamilton again sensed the hostility in Thompkins' voice. "I'm... concerned about her."
"Or maybe you're hoping that by doing something kind for her you're making up for what you did." Thompkins pointed a finger at him. "You violated your patient's trust. Cloning Supergirl was wrong enough, but using surgery to get the material for it goes beyond most breaches of ethics I've ever heard. And you think helping one teenage runaway in Gotham is going to make up for that?"
"No, I don't. It's... it's a small start, that's all."
Thompkins crossed her arms, grudgingly accepting the reply. "Well then, I'm going to pull some strings for you. I'm going to arrange an appointment for you with Doctor Matthew Thorne at Wayne Memorial. He'll get the tests done... and maybe give you some needed advice as well, Professor Hamilton. Matilda will get your phone number..."


When they returned to the apartment building, Hamilton had the girl walk around the side, where she would go up the fire escape to get into his room as she had done before. He went up the elevator as usual, but when he got to his door he found his bags piled in front of it and a note on the door, a custom-written eviction notice saying he was out "as of today".
Hamilton pulled out his key and opened the door to his apartment, putting his bags back inside, and went off to the owner's office.
He was allowed in when he arrived, and the owner - a middle-aged stout man with a balding head and a mean face, wearing a dirty old coat over a stained white shirt with old trousers - took one look at him and waved to the door. "Get out of here, I ain't talkin' to you."
"I'm paid up through next month, and you can't just kick me out on the street like that!", Hamilton protested.
"Oh yeah? Tony and Greg say I can." The reply referred to his "security guards", who were really goons meant to intimidate and shake down the tenants if the owner desired it. "Watcha gonna do? Sue? I got me connections, pal. Buddies who are made men. One word from me, you won't be able to get a hotel room from here to Star City. Even the Bat won't get you your room back."
"And why am I being kicked out?"
"Heard you invited a girl in for the night. Don't care why, that's against the rules and your lease, and it even says I can boot you if you break the rules. So why don't you go off with your honey and try somewhere else? Here." He reached into a drawer in his desk and took out an envelope. He tossed it to Hamilton. "Here's your security deposit and the month's rent you haven't used up yet. Go get you and your tramp a room somewhere. Just don't show your face around here again."

Hamilton opened his mouth to protested but stopped himself. There was nothing that could be done. He returned to the apartment to get his things and promptly headed out to the street. Thankfully, there wasn't much, just the clothes he wasn't wearing and a few other items. He walked over to the alley and saw the girl standing there, looking up at the window. "I'm over here," he called out. She turned and looked at him. "I got kicked out for letting you stay last night. Don't worry, though, I'll find us somewhere."
The girl took one of his bags as he began to lose his grip on it. Hamilton thanked her and they began to walk off together.
Neither seemed to notice the coat-wearing man who began to follow them.


Inside the office, Hamilton's back was still visible to the owner when he looked down at the phone number scrawled onto a post-it note on his desk. He dialed the number on his phone and waited for a moment. A woman with a slight accent answered on the other end. "Hey, this is Rigowski. I kicked the guy, Hamilton, you asked about, and I put the bug in his cash. Where's my money?"
"In precisely half an hour, a courier will arrive with your money, in cash, Mister Rigowski. I thank you for your help." She hanged up immediately and Rigowski heard his dial tone for a moment before he hung his own phone up.

In another part of Gotham, Talia al-Ghul dialed a second number on her cellular phone. "The target is moving. Maintain both personal and electronic surveillance. We'll send in locals to take him when the time comes. Remember, my father's orders are, at all cost, to avoid the attention of Batman or his pupils."
"Yes, Mistress," was the reply from the other end.


Hamilton could never remember having such bad luck in his life. He had tried two other apartment buildings in the area and had been turned down at each, and neither could he get a hold of Waller to inform her of what had happened. Now the sun was setting and there was no hope of getting an apartment for the night.
They soon found a motel, yet another grimy dive not too far from Riley's Pub at the corner of the Park. Hamilton paid cash for a bedroom, getting a room with two beds, and returned to where the girl was waiting with his things. They entered the room and turned on the heat before beginning to settle in. "My money will last until Friday, when I get my next payment from Waller. I'm hoping she can front me a little more money to get another apartment. It's a good thing I gave Thompkins my cell number. Now, for something to eat..."

A phone call and fifty minutes later, Hamilton and the girl were eating pizza, a plain one since Hamilton didn't know what she preferred. She seemed to be enjoying it greatly, and though she didn't talk, she was clearly happy. It was night time when they were done, the darkness outside only interrupted by the street lights and the security lights of the motel. "Hopefully Doctor Thorne can find out more about why you're mute," Hamilton said to strike up conversation, having no way to know whether she understood him or not. "Then, I guess, I'll have to take you to the authorities to find you a home."
There was no reaction to that.
"I don't understand, and I wish you could tell me... there are times you don't seem to understand a thing I'm saying, but you always seem to know what I'm going to do. Maybe it's just my imagination, or maybe you don't understand English very much..."
There was a knock at the door. Hamilton, curious, walked up to it and absent-mindedly opened the door instead of checking to see who was on the other end. Once open, the man at the door threw it open the rest of the way and knocked Hamilton backward and onto his rear. Three men entered behind him, all wearing ski masks. "Come on, old man, get up!" One man gripped Hamilton by the shirt collar and lifted him up, drawing a gun with the other hand. "Someone's paying bucks to see you."
"Hey, you're a cutie," another of the men said, approaching the girl with his friend. "Why don't you give ol' Georgie a good...."

The girl seemed to fall backward. As she landed on her back her feet shot upward and caught both men between the legs in a double-kick, making them double over in pain. She flipped over and jumped off the wall and over one of the beds, landing a punch into the windpipe of the third man that knocked him back onto the bed gasping for air. This left the man with the gun, and he only had it under control for a second more before the girl's foot struck him in the throat. The gun fired, a loud bang that echoed in Hamilton's ears, but the bullet embedded itself into the concrete block of the room wall. Before the man could aim his gun the mute girl grabbed his arm with both of her's, twisted a certain way, and brought him to his knees, allowing her to put a knee into his throat and incapacitate him.
This had all happened in seconds, and Hamilton nearly fell to his knees when let go that he had to be grabbed by the girl before he righted himself and allowed her to lead him out of the room, leaving behind everything they had.

They went for the motel office, about five doors away and found it locked, the manager unconscious within. The four men who had attacked them came out of their room almost together, the man with the gun first, looking enraged. He opened fire and a bullet whizzed over the girl's head. "No, Pete!" a voice cried out as another hand grabbed the gunman's arm. "We gotta take the man alive."
"But not that little bi..."
Before the curse word could leave "Pete's" mouth, an object came from the shadows and struck the man's hands, knocking the gun out of his hand. There was a couple of noises from above that made Hamilton and the girl look up. "It's the Bat!" one of the goons shouted as the Dark Knight of Gotham descended from the shadows of the roof. A kick took out Pete and a punch left unconscious the one who had been trying to stop him from shooting. This left Georgie and his friend, who had attacked the mute girl earlier, and before either could attack Batman - or indeed react to the fall of their comrades - a second pair of legs struck them both and sent them sprawled. Robin flipped in mid-air and landed in front of them. "Only four?" he complained, his voice more youthful than Hamilton had expected.

Hamilton remained still as Batman and Robin cuffed the assailants. "How did you know I was in trouble?" Hamilton asked me.
"It's what I do," was the cold, vague reply. Standing up to his full height, Batman's cape covered the rest of his figure, hiding his uniform. Robin's more colorful uniform was rather more visible.
"I take it you've been spying on me?"
"Not as much as I'd like. I knew you would be trouble when I heard Waller was locating you here. As the man who cloned Supergirl, you have a great deal of value in the underworld. This attack was inevitable."
"So, what am I supposed to do? Leave?"
"I want you out of Gotham. As soon as possible."
"I can't leave yet. This young lady is going to have a medical appointment soon, here in Gotham, she may have...."
"Consider the appointment canceled. I'll talk with Waller and have you set up in a safehouse in Metropolis, and arrangements will be made for the girl with the authorities."
Hamilton narrowed his eyes. "The girl is mute and may not understand English. The authorities won't be able to do anything for her."
"They'll be able to do more than you can, Hamilton. And the deal is non-negotiable."
"Like hell it is!" Hamilton pointed a finger at the Dark Knight. "You might be the Batman, but I won't let you dictate terms to me. I...."
Batman grabbed Hamilton by the shirt collar and lifted him slightly, his eyes narrowing. "To me, Hamilton, you're just another criminal, so don't think I'll treat you any...."
He suddenly doubled over and grunted, the mute girl's fist smashing into his celiac plexus (better known as the solar plexus). Robin acted with surprise at first, but only for a split second before his training kicked in and he jumped at the girl. She dodged to one side, grabbing his outstretched leg, and used the grip to toss him into the wall. She adopted an immediate defensive stance in front of Hamilton, who stared wide-eyed at her.

Robin recovered first, but before he could attack Batman made a stop gesture with his left hand and pressed his right hand against his hood. "I'm busy," he said, whoever he was talking to inaudible. His expression turned into one of irritation. "One moment, then, J'onn." He turned to Robin. "Dreamslayer is wreaking havoc in Metropolis, and I'm the only one who can reinforce Green Lantern's team. Robin, take them to the safehouse." He looked to Hamilton and the girl. "We're not through yet, Hamilton." He pressed his right hand against the hood again. "I'm ready." After a moment, he disappeared in a bright shimmer of light.
Robin, with an irritated look on his face, made a call to Batgirl since he, of course, couldn't drive them. While he was talking, Hamilton looked to the mute girl. "Just how did you do that?"
As he expected, she didn't reply.


The room in Ra's al-Ghul's sanctuary lit up as the video screen came active with an incoming call. Ra's stood in his usual green cloak and suit, looking deceptively fit with his body on the last bit of energy he had siphoned from Superman years before. Talia stood behind and beside him, as always. "Your punctuality is appreciated," Ra's said to the person who appeared on the screen.
"I offer more than punctuality, Ra's," replied Gorilla Grodd from the other end of the line. "Unlike the others, I'm not offering you a place in the Society. I'm offering you equality."
"Would you care to elaborate?"
There was a self-assuring smile on Grodd's face. "Of course. What I offer you, Ra's al-Ghul, is a seat beside me in cooperative leadership over the Society. You and I would rule together, and the resources and manpower of your empire combined with the technology and power of my Society will allow us to rid the Earth of the likes of Batman and the Justice League. This world will be our's to rule."
"A tempting proposition. We would, indeed, make a most formidable pair. However, I have my own plans for this world."
"Of course you do. We all do. But I think you will find that the Society's plans will not diverge greatly from your's, and together, we stand the best chance of success. I'll give you three days to make you decision, Ra's, then the offer is withdrawn. I hope to be hearing from you soon."

The screen flashed off and Ra's face twisted to show distaste. "To think I would ally with that. I have no desire to work with such cretins. All they care about is power for the sake of power, they have no mind beyond it. Still, they are most formidable..."
"Will you accept his offer, Father?"
"In three days we will know if our current enterprise will succeed or not. If the unexpected occurs and we fail, then I may have no choice but to accept Grodd's offer to buy us time. On that matter, Talia, do we have Hamilton?"
"I'm sorry, Father, but no."
Ra's saw the shame on Talia's face as her head bowed, and his response was an exasperated, "What? What went wrong?"
"Batman. He stopped the men we hired from taking Hamilton."
The frown that crossed Ra's face made it clear how dangerous a development he considered this to be. "And where are they now? Has the Detective had a chance to interrogate them?"
"No, he transported away after the fight. More Justice League business. And, Father, there is something you will want to see. The girl with Hamilton...." Talia tapped a few keys on the computer and brought up the surveillance video on the screen. They watched as the four men entered Hamilton's motel room and, shortly thereafter, Hamilton left, being nearly pulled away by the girl. Then the four men followed, Batman and Robin showed up, and....
A look of delight came across Ra's face as he watched the girl bring Batman down with one well-aimed blow and deftly handle Robin, tossing him into a wall. "Can it be?", he asked Talia.
"She is about the right age, Father, and the resemblence is clear. And she would be the only teenager in the world who could...."
"Yes." Ra's gaze returned to the screen and a smile remained on his face. "Such an excellent stroke of fortune. Hamilton and her, together, for us to claim. With Hamilton we will ensure our future and she, Cassandra Cain, 'The One Who Is All', will protect it."

Well, we all knew it was Cassandra from the moment she didn't speak. that has to be one of the most distinctive characters in the DCU. This sure will be interesting, thats for sure.

I really like, BTW

Ooh, now it's really getting interesting. I especially liked the reference to BTAS' "Paging the Crime Doctor" through the mention of Matthew Thorne. Little details like that again help tie everything together and add to the tapestry that Timm and company created back in 1993.Keep it up, my friend!

I liked it. Poor Hamilton, I hope he gets redemption for all this, his life certainly sucks.

nice, the introduction of Cassandra. As JME2 noted, a mention of Mattew Thorne, making everything connected, gotta like that.

I'm also glad to see Dr. Leslie Thompkins on the side of the angels, after what they did to her in the current DCU.

Does anyone like Hamilton?

Actually, IIRC Infinite Crisis has undone the thing with Leslie Thompkins letting Stephanie die.

And "Paging the Crime Doctor" is one of my favorite BTAS episodes, so I couldn't resist the mention.

If you don't see an update soon, it's because of A) work (another double truck night tonight, ugh), and B) Justice League Heroes. But I'll try to get more done.

Just to let everyone know I've been working on it a bit, I'm going to post a small extra tid-bit, though not a big update. Sadly, other things have hijacked my attentions as of late, such as the incredible amount of hours I've been putting in at work.


And FFXII. Musn't forget that. And Marvel: Ultimate Alliance. And Justice League Heroes. And my other writing projects.....


Anywhere, here's a bit more.





The safehouse was not what Hamilton expected when the stealthed Batmobile pulled up to the door. Instead of some rundown apartment or warehouse, it was in fact a house in one of Gotham's suburban areas, only slightly isolated by a fence. It was only when they entered the house, led in by Batgirl, that the security systems became obvious.
"There's some canned food in the pantry, but no perishables. I'll get you whatever you need by morning," Batgirl explained. She handed Hamilton a set of keys. "In case of an emergency, these open the doors. But I want you to stay in the house."

The door opened again and the mute girl entered, Huntress walking in behind her. "Oracle called me out here for this?" Huntress muttered. "I do have a life, you know."
It was at that point that Huntress recognized Hamilton, having not seen him when she picked up the girl at the motel, and her eyes narrowed. "And why is he here?"
"Well, he's the guy we're protecting," Batgirl explained.
"What?! I'm here to watch over this scumbag?!" Huntress stomped up to him and put a finger in his face. "After what he and Cadmus did to Q?"
"I had no part in what happened to the Question," Hamilton replied. "I don't condone torture, under any circumstance. Doctor Moon was one of Luthor's people."
"You don't condone torture, you just work for people who use it," Huntress snapped in reply. "Of course, you're also not supposed to condone stealing someone's genetic material to clone them, but you had no problem doing that!"
Hamilton lowered his head. "I... can't argue against that."

Huntress grumbled inaudibly and stomped off. Batgirl watched her go and looked back. "If I were you, I wouldn't cross her. Now, tomorrow I'm going to go see Doctor Thorne for you and bring him by to examine your little friend. I suggest you get some sleep."

After Batgirl left Hamilton headed upstairs to the bedroom. Both bedrooms on the upper floor were sparsely furnished, but they had nice beds and older televisions. He found the mute girl sitting on one, looking out the window. He sat down beside her. "We should be safe here." He put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "I wish I knew you could understand me when I say these things, but I won't let any harm come to you. Not because of me. Enough people have been hurt because of things I've done."
The girl looked at him and a slight, reassuring smile came across her face.

good little tidbit, but I want more. MORE DAMN IT, MORE!

Sorry, I just wanted a full chapter, course, with all that work, it is understandable.

Sorry for the long delay, but I've had other writing projects taking my attention, plus double trucks every night at work, plus the need to devour the new Trek novel "The Empty Chair" by Diane Duane, the conclusion to her epic, excellent Rihannsu saga.

But here's yet another update, including more of those references to older Timmverse/BTAS stuff that seem so popular.



The next day began uneventfully. Huntress had left sometime before dawn and Batgirl had taken her place, though remaining mostly to herself.
With the capes clearly uninterested in talking and the girl unable to, Hamilton spent the time in silence. There was nothing good on television, no change there, and nothing to read, leaving him only time to think and try to process the roller-coaster of events that had trashed his life and brought him here. In particular, Supergirl's words still struck at him, and he felt the need to bury the fear that still roiled inside him.
A vehicle pulled up to the residence, and Batgirl went to the door after instructing Hamilton to stay out of sight. He did so, watching from afar as a nice-looking car stopped in front of the door. An older man wearing a doctor's coat, with gray hair and mustache, stepped out. He stepped inside and walked up to Hamilton was the girl came back from upstairs. He extended a hand and introduced himself. "Doctor Matthew Thorne," he said, just as Hamilton read the same on his coat. "Pleased to make your acquaitance, Doctor Hamilton."

Hamilton accepted the handshake with a slight hesitation born of surprise. "I'm grateful, Doctor Thorne."
Looking to the girl, Thorne said, "And this is the patient Leslie told me about?"
"She is."
"Well, young lady, let's get everything set up for you..."


After unloading the equipment for Doctor Thorne and bringing it inside, Batgirl returned to the car and looked inside at the driver, taking care to see that no one was within earshot before saying, "Thanks, Alfred."
The mustached butler and confidante gave a nod in reply. "It was my pleasure, Miss Gordon. Though I have to admit, the temptation to exchange pleasantries with Doctor Thorne was very great. It has been many years since we last had the chance to speak. So, when shall I return?"
"You won't need to. I'll handle it from here. Talk to you later, Alfred."
"Very well, Miss Gordon. Have a pleasant day." Alfred rolled up the window and drove off.

Batgirl walked inside and watched as Thorne and Hamilton finished hooking up the equipment. She said nothing, merely observing, as the girl laid on the table at request and allowed them to put some form of scanning device over her head. Thorne led the procedure, as he was fully versed in how the equipment worked, but Hamilton participated where possible, the two professionals working quickly and methodically.
"She doesn't have any tumors, but the EEG is showing something weird." Thorne pointed at the graphic layout of her brain. "This is the part of the brain that responds to visual stimuli, and this pattern.... it's the same as if she were reading."
"But she's not reading at the moment. She's just looking at us."
"That's not all. Her brain is also accessing the parts used in terms of communication, the kind where the brain accesses language." Thorne looked to the girl and looked back. "Someone get her something to read, please."
Batgirl responded first, producing a TV guide from the nearby shelf and handing it to Hamilton, who handed it to the girl. She took the book and looked at it, a quizzical expression on her face. "I'm getting signals from all over now. Even illiterate people usually show attempts to access the language center of the brain It's almost as if the part of her brain meant for understanding language has been devoted to something else..."

And that was when the solution came to Batgirl, who replied, "Body language?"
The two men looked to her, and after a moment Batgirl continued. "Batman trained all of us to study someone's movements, their expressions, to help determine what they were going to do, what they were thinking about... That would explain how the girl seems to understand us even though she clearly doesn't understand English."
Thorne and Hamilton looked at one another. "The only way for that to make sense is if she was raised, from birth, to register movement as language," Hamilton said with some degree of amazement. Suspicion that there was more to this girl than was apparent had become certainty now. "And that means..."
"She may spend the rest of her life as illiterate and mute," Thorne answered. "It's impossible for her to participate in society. She can't communicate directly with anyone."

By now the girl had put down the TV guide and looked to the two men. Her emerald eyes went from Thorne and Batgirl before going to Hamilton, to whom she grinned slightly. "She does seem rather attached to you," Thorne said. "Leslie said you had picked her up off the street."
"Yes, well, it seemed like the right thing to do," Hamilton answered. "And I lost my home, such as it was, because of it."
"I can try to set you up somewhere if you give me a few days."
"That would be welcome."
Both men noticed the look of irritation on Batgirl's face, and when she realized they'd noticed it she stomped off. Hamilton looked to Thorne. "I've done some... regrettable things, things that have cost me everything I loved and everything I was. You and her..." Hamilton looked to the girl, still sitting upright on the table. "You're the only ones to have been nice to me since the things I've done became public."

Thorne put a sympathetic hand on Hamilton';s shoulder, gaining him Hamilton's attention. "I once made a mistake of my own, a mistake out of fear and love for my brother. Because of it I was disgraced and I lost my license. I spent years working for my brother, rotting away on the inside bit by bit as I longed for my old life, until it nearly consumed me. If it hadn't been for Leslie and... others... I might still be called 'the Crime Doctor'."
Hamilton's eyes widened. The pieces all fell into place at that moment. "Then your brother is..."
"Rupert Thorne, one of the most feared crime bosses in Gotham. Heck of a family legacy, isn't it?" Thorne looked down, clearly recalling his own past.. "You've made horrible mistakes, Doctor Hamilton. You might have thought you were doing the necessary thing, even the right thing, when you made them. I know I thought that way, which is one of the reasons why I'm not tearing into you like I'm sure Leslie did. But what's important now is that you learn from it and try to regain the things you've lost. It might cost you some time, cause you some problems, but in the long run, it's worth it. Take it from someone who's been there." Thorne gestured to the girl, who was watching them intently. "I still want to do some bloodwork on her, to make sure she hasn't picked anything up. If you'd like to assist...."
Hamilton nodded, happy to help... and to feel useful again.


Elsewhere in Gotham, Ra's al-Ghul was settled into a large leather-backed chair in his penthouse, a copy of Marcus Aurelius' compiled writings in his lap. They served as an acceptable, even likable, diversion, as Ra's waited for his subordinates to complete their tasks and give him updates.
The diversion was also for the pain, the constant wracking pain as his body slowly began to deteriorate once more, the last reserves of Kryptonian energy taken mystically from Superman finally extinguised by the intervening years. Ra's had a keen mind, and the words he was reading helped to distract from his body's failing.
But it was his turn to be distracted when the door opened. He didn't look up from the door, knowing that only Talia would dare to interrupt him. "What is it, daughter?"
And it was, indeed, Talia. "Father, I have good news."
"Yes?"
"Your suggestion in tracking Batman's known associates, in and out of costume, has paid fruit. One of our operatives was on hand to plant a tracking device on a vehicle that picked up Doctor Matthew Thorne at Wayne Memorial Hospital for an unknown house call, a sudden one."
"Doctor Thorne? The brother of that odious, fat crime boss Rupert?"
Talia grinned at her father, though he could not see it. "Yes, Father. He was also once a friend of Thomas Wayne. The tracker has confirmed that the vehicle stopped for a time at a small, gated home in one of the Gotham suburban subdivisions, once the home of crime boss Arnold Stromwell."
"Ahhh...." Ra's allowed himself a small grin at that. "As I recall, Mister Stromwell turned State's Evidence after his war with Rupert Thorne, a result in which the Detective played a large part. Curiouser and curiouser... Talia, inform those responsible for tracking Doctor Thorne that they have my personal commendation for their work, and arrange for a team to move in on the house tonight."
"Who should I send, Father?"

Ra's seemed to consider the options available. "Should there be an intervention by the Detective's protegès, our presence will become known, but we may be able to distract their attentions away from our true objective. Send Shrike to the house with a team, and take one yourself to assault the Gotham Museum of History. There is an artifact there, the scarab necklace from the tomb of Ramses II, that I have some interest in. You may as well take it while you're there."
"Yes, Father. I will."
Ra's heard Talia leave, and put his hands together for a moment. After a brief scare, the plan seemed to be back on track, both on the short-term and the long-term. Comforted in that knowledge, Ra's returned to his reading.

First comment, yay!

Looks interesting. I'm presuming a fight is up next with the Bat-folk?

Ach, you did it again. You tied in another reference to one of my favorite BTAS episodes, "It's Never Too Late". Very interesting and well-done, as always.

JME2 wrote:Ach, you did it again. You tied in another reference to one of my favorite BTAS episodes, "It's Never Too Late". Very interesting and well-done, as always.

It seems that on top of thinking alike, great minds also have the same tastes. "It's Never Too Late" is one of my favorite BTAS episodes as well.

It's funny looking back at all the old episodes, seeing how the quality in animation has changed from then to now, how the universe has expanded under the guidance of Bruce Timm and his talented cohorts, but also seeing that even back then, under the thumb of Fox, they managed some truly great stories (like those referenced in this thread: "It's Never Too Late", the classic story of misplaced ambitions, their consequences, and eventual redemption, and "Paging the Crime Doctor", which was a Batman episode in name only, as Matthew Thorne was the real hero of the entire episode).

'Tis a shame to know that for the first time in, what, fourteen years, there isn't a Timmverse TV series on the air......

On a more serious note, the episode's beginning was on my mind as I wrote that last scene with Ra's (as in the little girl running up to the gate to get her ball and retreating in fear, leading to Stromwell and his men watching the news), and it occured to me that Stromwell's house was the kind of thing I had in mind when I wrote about Hamilton and Cass being taken to a safehouse. And given the role that the Dark Knight played in Stromwell's ultimate decision to go State's Evidence, it occurred to me that it's entirely likely Batman, as Bruce Wayne, arranged the purchase of the residence if (and it's likely) the Stromwells departed, seeing it's potential value as a safehouse and perhaps to ensure Stromwell's family had a home in case they ever wanted to return. And the two pieces just fell in place.

But what really surprises me is that nobody has caught on to Ra's secondary objective for the museum raid....

Steve wrote:But what really surprises me is that nobody has caught on to Ra's secondary objective for the museum raid....

I'm too tired to argue about the joys and evils of misdirection...