DC: A Cop in Gotham

Chapter 21: Guess I wasn't invited

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[Rescue twelve trapped people and gain 24 points.]

The faint green glow of the Omnitrix dimmed as Dean returned to his human form. Its recharge cycle began immediately, the device silently humming with energy. The Omnitrix possessed a built-in energy regeneration system, ensuring a near-infinite reserve. However, its capacity had limits; storing energy beyond its safe threshold risked catastrophic explosions. Under normal conditions, it only held enough power for ten-minute transformations.

But this battle had been anything but normal. Dean's transformation into Wildvine barely lasted twenty seconds. Any longer, and the strain might've been too much, even for him.

"Mana~!"

Manaphy clung tightly to Dean, her small voice trembling with relief.

(The bad woman was knocked down by Su Su!)

Dean cradled the little Pokémon, offering a reassuring smile. "You're safe now," he said softly. Manaphy chirped in agreement, clearly glad to be out of Poison Ivy's grasp.

Despite her intention about protecting nature, Ivy had ignored Manaphy's will, forcibly taking her away under the guise of protection. It wasn't protection—it was control.

Dean knelt beside Poison Ivy, who lay unconscious and vulnerable. Her human form had returned after he removed the Heart of the Forest, leaving her frail and exposed. A gaping wound in her chest marked where the magical artifact had been, the sight almost too gruesome for Gotham's already grim streets.

Unbuttoning his uniform jacket, Dean draped it over Ivy. It wasn't out of pity or morality, but practicality. A naked Poison Ivy with a bloody chest wound lying on the roadside could easily cause a passerby to call in a homicide report.

Moments later, Damian and Nightwing emerged from the trees, both battered and covered in scratches. The two vigilantes looked as if they'd wrestled with the jungle itself—and lost.

Damian's gaze immediately fell on Ivy. His brow furrowed, and his tone was incredulous. "Dean, how did you—? Don't tell me you actually defeated her alone?"

Dean shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. "You're welcome to guess," he replied, brushing off Damian's skepticism.

Nightwing, however, was more thoughtful. He'd fought Poison Ivy before but had never seen her wield such power. This wasn't the Poison Ivy he knew; this was someone enhanced by the Heart of the Forest, a force so potent it could've required summoning the Justice League. Yet Dean had handled it. Alone.

Dean broke the silence. "So, are we still going to Indian Hill?"

Damian and Nightwing exchanged weary glances. Both were bruised, scratched, and clearly running on empty. "I don't want to see another vine for a long time," Damian muttered. His voice carried a rare tone of disgust. "That forest… it was disgusting."

Dean raised an eyebrow, amused. "The Wayne family doesn't handle tentacles well, huh?"

Nightwing smirked, but the moment was interrupted by the communicator on his belt. He read the message, his expression turning serious. "Damian, your father's at the Black Mask Club. He sent this nine minutes ago."

Damian frowned, immediately scrolling through his own device. Sure enough, there were multiple missed messages from Bruce Wayne, aka Batman, asking for updates.

Nightwing added, "He tracked the records you accessed in the Batcomputer. When he couldn't reach you, he decided to go after Black Mask alone."

Damian's jaw tightened. He hated being second-guessed, but now wasn't the time to dwell on his mistakes. Pulling out his own communicator, he dialed a familiar number.

"Alfred, it's me. I need the Batmobile sent to the intercity highway immediately."

Within minutes, the sleek black vehicle roared into view, its engine's growl filling the air with an intimidating presence.

Damian moved to the driver's seat without hesitation. Nightwing raised an eyebrow. "He actually lets you drive this thing?"

"He doesn't let me," Damian corrected, his expression smug. "But I've memorized how to control it."

The Batmobile's engine roared like a beast, its rear thrusters igniting with purple flames as Damian hit the accelerator. The car roared down the road, disappearing into the night in seconds.

Dean stood on the roadside, watching as the Batmobile vanished into the horizon. He sighed, muttering to himself, "Guess I wasn't invited."

Left with an unconscious Poison Ivy and a clinging Manaphy, Dean decided to make a call of his own. Gordon answered on the first ring.

"You've got a lot of nerve, Officer Dean," Gordon barked. "Leaving your jurisdiction and damaging department property—what were you thinking?"

Dean winced but managed to reply, "I was dealing with a situation, Commissioner. One you'll want to see for yourself."

Gordon didn't wait for an explanation. Ten minutes later, a convoy of squad cars, their lights flashing, surrounded Dean's location.

Gordon approached, his hand resting on his holstered weapon. His expression darkened as he took in the scene. "Officer Dean," he began, his tone sharp. "Care to explain why you're outside your jurisdiction?"

Dean knew better than to argue semantics. Technically, his patrol area encompassed all of Gotham, but Gordon didn't need a technicality lecture.

"Yes, sir," Dean replied, his tone measured. "But first, you'll want to see this."

Gordon followed his gaze to Poison Ivy, her form draped in Dean's jacket. Kneeling, Gordon pulled back the fabric to reveal her face. His eyes widened in shock.

"Poison Ivy?" His reaction was instant. Drawing his gun, he aimed it squarely at Dean.

Dean dropped to his knees, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm not under her control!" he shouted. "She's powerless right now! Check her if you don't believe me!"

Poison Ivy's ability to secrete mind-altering toxins through her lips was well-known. The sight of her left chest, marred by a gruesome wound, confirmed Dean's words. The Heart of the Forest was gone, leaving Ivy more plant than human.

Gordon hesitated before lowering his weapon, signaling his officers to stand down. "You better have a damn good report ready for me, Officer Dean," he muttered.

"I'll write it as soon as we're done here," Dean promised.

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The Batmobile roared through the streets of Gotham, leaving a trail of purple exhaust in its wake. Inside, Damian's hands gripped the controls tightly, his young face set with determination. Nightwing, seated beside him, occasionally glanced over, a mix of amusement and apprehension on his face.

"You're really comfortable with this, huh?" Nightwing asked, raising an eyebrow as Damian expertly swerved to avoid a passing truck.

"I've memorized everything about this car," Damian replied without looking away from the road. His voice was calm, but there was a slight edge of excitement. "Father thinks I'm not ready, but I know what I'm doing."

Nightwing chuckled. "Well, try not to wreck it. Alfred might forgive you, but Bruce definitely won't."

Damian didn't respond, his focus entirely on the road ahead.

Back where Dean stood, the scene was considerably less crowded. The police cars had dispersed, leaving him standing in the quiet aftermath of what had been a chaotic encounter with Poison Ivy. Gordon had taken Ivy into custody, and now Dean was left to his own devices—or rather, to the scolding and administrative nightmare that awaited him back at the station.

Manaphy floated invisibly beside him, her presence a quiet comfort in the otherwise tense atmosphere.

"Manaphy" Dean muttered, "how do you think Gordon's going to handle all this? I mean, Ivy's situation isn't exactly something you can file under 'routine arrest.'"

Manaphy didn't respond verbally—she never really did—but her soft hum conveyed an air of reassurance.

Dean sighed and started walking toward the nearest main road. He'd call for a ride, but knowing his luck, the rest of the night was likely to be just as eventful.

Elsewhere, in the dimly lit underbelly of Indian Hill, a very different kind of tension was brewing. Roman Falcone stood at the head of a large table, surrounded by his most trusted associates. The room was filled with machinery and the faint glow of monitors displaying various surveillance feeds.

One of his subordinates stepped forward, holding a tablet that displayed a live feed from one of the monitors. On the screen, Batman was shown fighting off a group of armed men. His movements were precise but visibly slower than usual.

"He's inhaled the modified fear gas," the subordinate reported. "Even with his willpower, he's still human. It's only a matter of time before he succumbs."

Falcone smirked, his confidence unshaken. "Good. Gotham's so-called protector has been a thorn in my side for far too long. By the end of the night, there won't be a bat left in this city."

His partner, a man with sharp features and an air of quiet menace, glanced at the screen. "You shouldn't underestimate him. Batman has a way of surviving even the most impossible situations."

Falcone waved him off dismissively. "Let him survive all he wants. He's already walked into our trap. The point isn't to kill him—it's to make sure he's too busy to interfere with the real plan."

The partner didn't respond, but his expression remained skeptical.

At the police station, Dean sat at his desk, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The report Gordon had demanded wasn't going to write itself, but every time Dean tried to put his thoughts into words, he found himself hesitating.

How was he supposed to explain everything that had happened? The Omnitrix, his fight with Poison Ivy, the fact that she wasn't exactly dead but also not entirely alive—none of it fit neatly into the confines of a standard police report.

Manaphy floated beside him, her invisible presence a comforting reminder that he wasn't entirely alone in this.

"Maybe I should just stick to the basics," Dean muttered. "Leave out the weird stuff and focus on what's actually relevant."

Manaphy hummed in agreement, though Dean suspected she didn't entirely understand what he was talking about.

He began typing, his fingers moving slowly at first but gradually picking up speed. As he wrote, he tried to frame the events of the night in a way that wouldn't raise too many questions. He mentioned Poison Ivy's involvement, the fight in the forest, and the fact that she had been taken into custody. He left out the parts about the Omnitrix and Manaphy, deciding it was better to keep those details to himself.

By the time he finished, the report was long but relatively straightforward. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh.

"Not bad," he said to himself.

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Meanwhile, back in Indian Hill, Batman's situation had gone from bad to worse. The fear gas was taking its toll, clouding his mind and slowing his reflexes. His opponents were relentless, pressing their advantage with a level of coordination that suggested they had planned for this moment meticulously.

But Batman was nothing if not resourceful. Even as his body threatened to betray him, his mind remained sharp. He analyzed his surroundings, looking for any opportunity to turn the tide in his favor.

That opportunity came in the form of a sudden, explosive interruption. The wall to his left crumbled as the Batmobile burst through, its weapons systems firing off a barrage of suppressive fire.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Batman moved quickly, incapacitating two of his attackers before retreating to a more defensible position.

The Batmobile's doors opened, and Damian and Nightwing emerged, ready for a fight.

"About time," Batman muttered, though there was a hint of relief in his voice.

Damian grinned. "Told you I could handle the Batmobile."

Batman didn't respond, instead focusing on the remaining enemies. Together, the trio made quick work of the opposition.

Dean's night was far from over tho. Gordon had returned, looking even more exhausted than before. He dropped a stack of files onto Dean's desk and sighed.

"I need you to go through these," he said.

Dean groaned. "Seriously? I just finished my report."

"Consider it a warm-up," Gordon replied.

As Dean reluctantly opened the first file, he couldn't help but wonder if this was Gordon's way of punishing him for the night's events.

Manaphy, still invisible, floated over to peek at the files. She chirped softly, her tone curious.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Looks like it's going to be a long night."

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