With These Hands

Sorry about the impromptu pause and the long wait. I had to deal with some real life problems.

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"Well this is a surprise. I didn't expect the famous Bruce Wayne to be caught anywhere near these slums, out of proper attire no less." I mused out loud for him to hear. 

Bruce now sat on the couch opposite me, a hard look on his face as he silently arranged his thoughts. It's weird seeing him in a hoodie and jeans but I get over it quickly. 

"What is it that you need to talk about?" I asked, cutting through the slowly rising tension. 

"If I recall, we had a deal. You aid me with your set of skills and I would pay you for your services. It seems that wasn't quite enough for you." Bruce said, leveling his gaze at me. 

Ah…I see where this is going. I can only adjust in my seat as he continues. 

"I know you're the one making Euphoria. It needs to stop, immediately."

"And why would I do that?" I ask, not bothering to deny it. 

"Because if you don't, you'll leave me no choice but to have you locked up." He said, an edge to his tone. 

Easing into the chair with a smirk, I responded. "That would be a compelling argument but there's one small problem with that." 

I pause for effect before continuing. "While the sale of cocaine and the likes are prohibited, Euphoria uses none of the harmful components that make said drugs illegal. Discounting the fact that I am a minor, even if you do manage to get me arrested, I'd have to face trial."

"Batman doesn't testify in court and Bruce Wayne surely has no business with a street urchin in Gotham. I wonder just how much information they'd be able to force out of me."

Bruce's eyes hardened at the not so subtle implication. "Is that a threat?"

"Not at all. I'm simply wondering if they'll be so willing to put me behind bars when they realize that I'm the only one who can save them the next time the Joker inevitably escapes Arkham or when Scarecrow shows his face again." I said, letting my words sink in. 

Humans are creatures motivated by a lot of things, fear is one of them. No matter how corrupted or righteous they are, fear is a driving force in their decision making skills. 

Joker being a constant in Gotham is a legitimate fear factor with his consistency in maniacal plots. A few vials of antitoxin should be enough to shift the ruling in my favor. Failing that, compulsion is another option. 

Of course it went without saying that I might slip up and let Batman's alter ego be known. 

"You're playing a dangerous game here William. This drug that you're making can ruin a lot of lives, enslaving them to the need to consume more of it until they can't live without it." Bruce spoke in a measured tone and I could see his true feelings on the matter. 

He's a lot easier to read without the cowl obscuring his features. My ears and nose catch something that almost makes me laugh. 

"Not more dangerous than playing dress up and brutalizing criminals. That goes double for you young bird." I said, turning to the window by the side.

There was a moment of thick silence before a small figure swung into the room through said window. In his premature glory stood the very first Robin, clad in black clothes, shades and his utility belt strapped along his chest. 

"Hello Grayson, so wonderful of you to join us." I said, my voice light and mocking as the boy tensed up, moving to stand by his mentor. "Batman and Robin sitting in my living room, that'll be a story to tell."

Bruce's disapproving glare was telling. Looks like someone was outside without permission. Artemis is out practicing with her bow so I doubt she'll be back before they leave. She's been quite committed to training lately.

"You're ruining lives just so you can make a profit." Bruce spat out. 

"Actually, I Intend to improve their lives. It's a step by step process." I admit, a bit vaguely. 

"How much?" Bruce asked, confusing me. Seeing my confusion, he elaborated. "How much would it take to get you to stop making Euphoria?"

"More than you have to offer." I lied. He could probably afford whatever price I would put out but that wouldn't be in my best interest at the moment. 

Cobblepot is immensely rich and all of that money and assets are now mine, legal and otherwise. Once I've wrung him dry, I'll get rid of him. 

I froze at the thought. The thought of how easily I could kill him in so many different ways ran through my head. The ease with which I thought of it is…disturbing to say the least. 

Pushing those thoughts away, I focus on thinking of how I can leverage this situation to my favor. "I want something else. I'll stop making Euphoria and in exchange, I want a blood sample from the Martian Manhunter."

The tension in the room rose to an all time high as Bruce's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was expected. 

"Why?" He demanded. 

"Humans are a fragile species, we have biological limits. Martians, Kryptonians, Amazons and Thanagarians surpass those limits with ease. Out of those four, Martian physiology is the most intriguing due to its malleability and adaptability. If I could get a sample of his blood, I believe I can engineer a vaccine that would temporarily replicate cellular regeneration." I explained, watching his eyes widen minutely before narrowing once more. 

"Think about it. If someone gets into a car accident, the doctors would be able to get him on his feet by the end of the day. A mugger shoots someone? The paramedics would be able to sustain them long enough to get the bullet out. Even heroes would be able to do their jobs without the risk of permanent injuries weighing them down."

I've already gotten his interest…

"Superman and the other powered heroes have their abilities to rely on but what about you? What about Green Arrow and Black Canary? What about Robin? Just how much punishment can your body take before it gives out?"

Done with my pitch, I stayed silent. My words have already sunken deep into his mind. I already have ways to put together a regeneration vaccine but he doesn't need to know that. 

With Martian Manhunter's blood, I can take my psychic abilities to the next level and probably gain some of their other useful traits. I would have asked for Superman's blood but I'd have a hard time justifying that. 

Robin for his part merely looked amazed and I don't know if it's because of my pitch or the fact that I'm not much older than him. Either way, the silence is broken when Bruce gets off the chair and moves to the door and Grayson quietly follows behind him. 

Just as he opened the door to leave, he turned back to look at me. "I'll be in touch." He said, making his exit with his protégé. 

That wasn't a no. That was probably a maybe. I'd get it one way or the other. I spent the next half hour checking every spot Bruce and Grayson touched to make sure there weren't any bugs. There's nothing wrong with a little caution. 

As I opened the window to check where the young sidekick previously hid, there was a flash of silver as something pierced my chest. I'm getting fed up with this routine. 

Grabbing the blade, I applied pressure, snapping it in half before grabbing the part still attached to the handle and dragging it inside along with the wielder who fell into a roll. 

As I pulled the piece of the sword out of my chest, I took a look at my assailant. Dark long hair, grey eyes and a shocked look on her face. I didn't take more than a moment to realize that I didn't recognize her from any form of DC media. 

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-[Carissa]

-[Daughter of Ander and granddaughter of Varl'jat. Blessed with longevity due to her lineage, she has persevered through the ages, hunting down her father and those spawned from him in an attempt to cleanse the world of the stain that is her family. She is your sister.]

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What the hell?