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Who is Child 52?	By : redsliver Category: DC Verse Comics > Birds Of Prey Views: 3605 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, The Birds of Prey, The Doom Patrol, The Justice League, The Teen Titans or any of its characers and brands. This is written for fun and I do not profit off of this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Frustrated
- 1
This would be impossible without the delicious brains of Pixagi.
January 22nd - Gotham City

Gone. Again! Who would associate with the monster? Barbara took off her headset and shook out her limp hair. How long has it been since she had showered? Since before the Titans’ War at least. Jump City was still on fire. A dozen heroes, her people, her friends, missing and worse. If only Zee would talk. Dr Fate was attempting to lift the compulsion but apparently self-inflicted magic was particularly insidious.

She wheeled back from the computer bank. The sun rising startled her. Her brain was addled. She needed sleep and food. She pushed the needs back. The shower was all the upkeep she had the luxury for.

It had been six years since she had been paralyzed. Structure and repetition helped things become easier. Still, she remembered being able to peel off her rubber, carbon and plastic armor and fall into a scalding shower in mere moments. Exhaustion was so much more tiring to wash away these days. She felt the frustration rise like bile in her throat. Time wasn't hers to waste. Even as she cleaned, she called her Birds of Prey. The Oracle's team matched her diligence.

Coffee. Black. The Aerie One had two cups waiting for her. Or maybe one was for Dinah but Babs would delay that thought until both had been drank. The liquid was black tar: police station coffee: overbrewed and burnt. It was close to distilled caffeine. Alfred had treated her to countless cups of delicious immaculately brewed pots of coffee in her crusades as Batgirl. But for Babs, it didn’t feel like coffee if it couldn’t peel paint.

“I needed you to bring the other suit,” The Oracle said by way of greeting. She was finishing off the second cup when Black Canary arrived. The crime fighter was in her fishnets and leather. The blonde arched an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes, first you’re heading to Arkham Asylum. You still licensed to practice in New Jersey?”

“Of course,” Canary sat across the table from Oracle. A pair of prescriptionless glasses wired with cameras and other transmitting devices were waiting for Dinah. “I’ll change before I arrive. Who are we talking to? Penguin?”

“Helena said he had been armed with an umbrella, but with nothing else corroborating I don’t expect Cobblepot’s involved,” The empty cardboard cup was put inside its empty mate, “Nightwing brought in Nigma.”

“Finally!” Dinah’s grin was predatory.

“I’ll assign Dinah Lance, attorney at law as his state appointed defense. I need you to get him talking before he fires you and decides he’s going to represent himself.”

“He’ll talk.” Dinah grinned. “Does he need to keep all of his fingers unbroken?”

“Yes, but a perforated eardrum might go unnoticed.” Barbara knew Dinah would be professional, if headstrong with the interrogation. “We need to know what the Riddler knows about this kid.”

“Yeah, he has to be a fanboy at least,” Dinah sighed. There were hundreds of questions in her sad tired eyes, “How’s Stephanie?”

“Recovering,” Barbara nodded hopefully.

“What’ll you be doing?”

“I’m going to The Hall of Justice. I’m limited with just the Clocktower and KORD’s resources. I need the Watchtower.”

“Wonder Woman will back you up.”

“And Hawkgirl,” she agreed, “Be careful with Riddler. He’s nearly as smart as he thinks he is.”

“Don’t worry,” Dinah stood up and turned, “When I’m done with him, we’ll know everything there is to know about The Addler.”

——

January 22nd, Arkham Asylum: Visitor's Center

Dinah was wearing a knee length slate skirt and a jet black blouse. Her fishnets had been traded for dark pantyhose. Her suit jacket was draped over the back of the uncomfortable steel chair. She had arranged on the table before her a stack of manila folders and a pristine canary legal pad. She drummed a musicless rhythm with the ballpoint pen between her index and middle fingers.

"In the seat, scumbag," Two armed guards escorted Edward Nigma to the chair opposite Dinah. One guard proceeded to handcuff Nigma to a crossbar on the table. The other guard turned to Dinah, "Ms. Lance, are you familiar with the protocols in place for your safety?"

"I am." Dinah replied. The second guard smiled and handed Black Canary a small handheld trigger.

"Good, when we leave the room, recording devices will be shut down for attorney client privilege. Try not to defend this one too hard," The second guard gave a bright smile as he left following the first. It was then for the first time that Dinah and Edward met eyes.

The Riddler was an unimposing psychotic. He sat forward, poorly wearing the uniform white scrubs on his skinny shoulders. His brown hair fell just into his bright green eyes. His pale thin lips were caught somewhere between a smirk and a predator's bared teeth. His fingers stood steepled on the table, as if the handcuffs were decorative. He was quite relaxed; he appeared at home.

"Good morning, Mr Nigma. My name is—"

"What comes before the night? And just as easily ends the night at the crack?"

"Yes, Lance. I suppose you're quite clever, knight instead of night. But I'm not here for word games," Dinah adjusted the square framed glasses higher on her nose, "Now, about your case."

"No time for pleasantries, my dear?" The Riddler asked pitiably behind his saccharine smile.

"How rude of me!" Dinah's apologetic hand before her lips was as sarcastic as Riddler's smile. "Are they treating you well? How is the food?"

"Unfit for orphans," Nigma replied to the second question.

"How dreadful!" Canary's false concern melted away. She opened up the first folder. "You were brought in by Batman at 2:29 this morning. A break in at Ivy University."

"I prefer my crimes to have a touch of class."

"Cute," She dismissed the pun, "Should I even bother asking what you were after?"

"Oh, a little of this. A little of that."

"Probably, just going after some college girl," Dinah twisted her lips in a moue of distaste.

"There's no elegance in that!" Riddler was clearly insulted by the suggestion. She didn't even respond to the violence of his denial. He was surprised; he had expected a lawyer to make a reach for the panic button. The blonde woman hadn't even flinched. Riddler slowly composed himself and studied the woman before him, "And to what do I owe this defamation of character?"

"It's been everywhere. What you did in Jump City over New Year's. I'm surprised there's nothing on the docket."

"They think that's me?" The Riddler just started laughing, "That'll be even more of a kangaroo court than this one. Well, I've always wondered what the sanatoria were like in California. Of course, it won’t just feel like home without my Arkham family."

The Riddler left an opening in the conversation. However, the Black Canary had been playing this game for far too long. She could tell when a man just wanted to talk. There are few things that The Riddler really cared for more than talking.

"There's no way that could have been me," Edward scoffed, "That was the work of a younger man. Someone still in that teenage phase of personal immortality. Someone who doesn't know that it's their work will live on. In my hands, Jump City would have burned 100 times brighter."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were proud of him."

"Well he certainly is a snappy dresser. And it seems, he finally has found a jacket that fits."

Riddler's comment coincided with Dinah flipping through her second folder. Inside were photographs of the items confiscated from Edward Nigma upon his entry into Arkham Asylum. There was the standard fare: bowler hat, three piece suit, brass sheathed cane, and polished leather shoes: all in the standard dark green and question mark motif. There are also a diary in disarray. A scrapbook of pasted newspaper clippings inside a journal full of pictographic and mathematics ciphers. Thanks to the cameras in Dinah's glasses, Barbara had made sure to collect a picture of every single page and clipping. Dinah didn't catch the movement across the table but her glasses did. Barbara would see that The Riddler paid momentary attention to Lois Lane's Doom Spelt for the Doom Patrol, Snapper Carr's Dakota City Dust-Up, G. Gordon Godfrey's Just-Us League Abandons Jump City and Clark Kent's Fated Hour.

“Yes, he clearly does share your sense of... style,” Dinah muttered looking back up.

“Good taste is so difficult to find these days. We must appreciate it where we can find it, Ms Lance,” Edward slunk back down into his casual posture. Dinah closed the first folder and then opened the second.

“The evidence is pretty ironclad,” Dinah admitted, “Security camera footage, eyewitness testimony, fibres from your suit left from your fight with The Batman.”

“Batman?” Snorted Riddler, “Wonder what happened to the old man? Joker’s not going to be too happy to learn Boy Wonder’s wearing his prom date’s dress.”

“Excuse me?” Canary didn’t have to feign surprise. Barbara had only told Dinah about Batman being out of commission after Stephanie’s attack. How had Riddler pieced things together? It was only with Stephanie, a woman, becoming Robin that most supervillains had been able to suspect that there had ever been more than one.

“Just talking to myself, dear,” Riddler smiled broadly, “You were telling me how I’m screwed?”

“Yes, there is no doubt about your attempted armed robbery charge. If you hadn’t had your history of mental illness, I’d recommend a plea bargain or an information exchange,” Dinah put her pen down. She saw Riddler calculating the speed and posture he’d need to grab the item. She didn’t seem worried, which is the only thing that stopped him from lunging.

“Of course, I could always petition to be tried as a cognizant member of society,” Riddler suggested, “Alas, Blackgate just doesn’t have the same high thread count sheets that I can’t live without.”

“I’m going to recommend we plea guilty and insanity,” Dinah sat back, “We might be able to arrange for a possible parole in a decade or two. Depending on your doctors.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to keep all these secrets locked away, then,” Riddler sighed, “Which is a shame, I’d hate to have Ivy’s fate on my conscience.”

“What happened at the university? Are you suggesting we have something to deal with?”

“My dear, I’m always holding back a few pieces of the puzzle,” he grinned broadly, “But there is no we. I’m afraid I’ve come to plumb the depths of your competence and I must say it’s heads above most of the public defenders. You haven’t even pissed yourself! Bravo. I must admit I almost thought to keep your services, if only because you brighten up a room like a potted fern. So, run along now, Ms Lance. I’m sure I’m not the man in green you were looking to spend your weekend with.”

Dinah never showed an ounce of trepidation as she collected her folders and depressed her alert button. She watched Riddler be moved onto his dolly and wheeled deep into the Arkham facility. Dinah never cracked as she exited the hospital and started her motorcycle. Her helmet hit her false glasses and she stopped dead. Riddler was more dangerous than she had ever given him credit for. He knew about Addler, showing pride and insight. Part of her figured it’d be best to drag him out of Arkham and stuff him in a dark cell in Purgatory where she and a few choice friends could extract what they needed. It wouldn't help though. What species of kind and benevolent God creates a universe where torture didn’t work? Her glasses were slipped into the inside breast pocket of her leather jacket. She pulled her helmet on and revved her motorcycle for the hour’s drive to Blüdhaven.

Ironically, Dinah felt more human after she ditched her real people clothes. Things made a perverse kind of sense when she was dressed in her uniform. She traded in for an armored version of the same jacket and settled a slightly more platinum blonde wig upon her head. Her “work” motorcycle was a little too amped up to be technically street legal. Technically, it wasn't legal to be a costumed vigilante. After being stuck in that box with The Riddler, the Black Canary really needed to punch someone. It wouldn’t take long to fill her dance card in Blüdhaven. Helena would be up for some girl time.

——

10 months ago, April 14th, Eastbound out of Keystone City

"What did he want?" Cheetah was fidgeting in the bucket seat. It was bad enough that she had to struggle into these thrift store blue jeans, but the bucket seats just had no room for her tail.

"I have no idea," Addler replied. "Said something about giving me his blessing."

"For what?" Cheetah turned and examined young man driving. He wasn't much to be intimidated by. He was all elbows and knees, lanky. His mop of red hair was thick and in need of a trim. He had freckles and a lopsided smile. His coat looked like a bad hand-me-down; the sleeves were too short, the torso too fat. He had deep blue eyes, much darker than the rest of him, “You couldn’t win an asskicking contest against a one legged man.”

“Maybe he just appreciates a pretty face?” Addler waggled his eyebrows before turning his eyes back to the road.

"No it’s your victory celebrations. You planning on keeping this shit up?" Cheetah scratched around her lips half expecting to find even more dried cum, "Barda nearly pounded your skull in.”

“Yeah, couldn’t have done it without Bane,” Addler grinned, clearly spurning Cheetah’s own contributions.

“They don’t let men like you run around long,” She snarled, “Hell, if you hadn’t been so much fun with Wonder Tot back there, I’d have left you to fend for yourself.”

“Yeah, this game can’t play out too much longer. Maybe you’re right,” He brushed his hair from his face, “I was thinking of hitting up Metropolis.”

“Smart,” Cheetah’s sarcasm was deathly apparent.

“Well, Dad liked to say: ‘If you got to go, go frontpage.’ I know a way or two I could cover the entire Daily Planet. Think I can take Powergirl?”

“I don’t think you could arm wrestle the Penguin,” She answered snidely, “Besides Faketits McAirhead isn’t the only one in Metropolis.”

“Fake tits? You think they’re fake?” Addler’s voice whimpered as Cheetah heard his childhood dreams crushed under heel.

“You think they could be real? I bet she needs all that strength just to haul around that silicone.”

“Or maybe they're just part of her uniform?” Addler asked the universe, “I barely recognize her face. It’d be one hell of a secret identity.”

“She wants to keep her name secret she’ll wear a mask like Canary and Batgirl,” Cheetah sneered. She looked over Addler again. She’d known the boy for almost two months now and he had caused a half dozen problems for The Trust since he botched that Gotham job. He wouldn’t be around much longer. Their victory against The Doom Patrol had been due to him. Cheetah looked back to see the remains of Robot Man being guarded by Addler’s little slut. Hey, if the kid was due an end, she liked him just enough to let it be a Kryptonian and not The Great One, “But you could be on to something. You going to grab her in her civvies then?”

“It might be the thing,” Addler nodded.

“Well if the tits are fake, the blonde probably is too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He agreed. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “She gets herself in the Planet a lot.”

“So does the blue boy,” Cheetah sneered.

“Yeah, I bet they have an in,” Addler’s logic was reaching for Cheetah. Any news organization is going to be hungry for superhero stories. They just sold more advertising space. Coca-Cola slapped itself next to Superman whenever it could. She kept her tongue while he postulated, “I’ll have to scout out the building. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“No, I think you’ve got this,” Cheetah grinned, “But first we got to get clunker to Manta.”

“I thought--”

“Middle men. We’ve been seen fighting The Doom Patrol, they want him out of our influence as soon as possible.”

“I guess,” Addler slipped back. His mind loomed ahead towards Metropolis. He was hoping that those tits were real. The hair too. But, it wasn’t only the outside he wanted. His hand reached for the radio. Cheetah failed to get comfortable, trying to nap.

——

Present day - January 22nd, Watchtower Gymnasium

The heavy bag was designed to hold against the punches of Batman, The Flash and Green Arrow. Reinforced leather and powerful polymers buckled and snapped as Hawkgirl's right cross connected. Carbon sand spilled like jet black blood from the ruptures.

“No, I’m trying to go back and see if we can’t find where he came from. I was going to hit up the Titans and talk to Garfield but you were up here already,” Barbara said trying not to sound accusing, “I was reading your report about taking in Cheetah.”

“Paperwork isn’t really my thing, Oracle,” Hawkgirl grabbed a towel from the rack. Her bright red hair was sweaty and matted. Her helmet and nth metal harness hung from a nearby peg. Her mace was laying under the bench.

“I know you hate it,” Barbara nodded, “I grew up with cops. Doesn’t mean you’ve ever been less than diligent before. It’s why I respect you so much Hawkgirl.”

“And here I figured it was because I was the only chick to scare scumbags worse than Bats,” Hawkgirl laughed.

“That too,” Barbara let Hawkgirl’s smile grow infectious.

“So what’s missing?”

“Details. You were taken out initially?”

“It was three on one,” Hawkgirl’s back went up but she kept her calm, “Cheetah, some Riddler fanboy and a magician or something. My mace was acting up like there was sorcery around anyways.”

“Yeah, I read that much,” Oracle leaned forward onto her knees, “I also know that you managed to put Cheetah down. Hard. She’s given Wonder Woman back as hard as Diana can dish it out.”

“Yeah, I’m the shit,” Hawkgirl agreed.

“And I agree but I need to know about the kid that got away. Which means we need to talk about the assault. Addler, That Riddler fanboy, I believe he’s the one who attacked Jump City. Hunted down Vixen. Nearly took out The Huntress.”

“No, no he wasn’t,” Hawkgirl shook his head, “That guy, your guy, was strong. He was fast, sickeningly so. This kid was just that, a kid. He had some training but he was awkward and unprepared for a fight. He would have had to master a half dozen martial arts and put on a hundred pounds of muscle in five months.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Hawkgirl sighed, “Look I’ve seen the Jump City footage. That guy was a monster. DNA?”

“Inconclusive. There was some sort of contaminant that broke down our samples no matter how fresh we got them,” Barbara grumbled. Something wasn’t adding up though. Both villains fought with same MO. Down and dirty, with a particular hunger for heroines and villainesses, “But Fate says my computer errors are probably a result of the magic he’s been tracking.”

“Right, so you’re interested in the magician I fought. Well, I didn’t see him. He stayed in the truck until I was out of commission,” Hawkgirl put down her towel and picked up her helmet. It was much easier to face the world and Barbara’s questions with it on. At least that little prick hadn’t taken it off of her.

“Did he leave you to Cheetah?”

“No,” Hawkgirl sighed, “That’s not what he did at all.”

“What happened?”

“Look, I put the gritty details in the report, but you’re right there is something else. How it made me feel.”

“I can imagine,” Barbara rolled forward, “You’re not the only one. Not by a long shot. Donna, Rita, M'gann, Raven… Stephanie.”

“I take it you haven’t talked to them yet, have you?”

“With Donna and Cassie on Themyscira and the Titans licking wounds in Platinum Flats, I hadn’t had the chance,” Barbara sighed, “I should be looking on the bright side. I didn’t think I’d ever have a pain in the ass again.”

“Cute,” Shiera laughed needfully as she straightened her hair out of the back of her helmet, “I probably could have taken him but I kept get getting blasted by mood swings.”

“Empathic maybe? Telepaths have had a hell of a time with him.”

“Didn’t feel like telepathy,” Hawkgirl shrugged, “I might as well just recount the story from the beginning.”

“Please,” Barbara and Hawkgirl began their circuit from the gym towards the cafeteria. There were only three other Leaguers on the satellite. Hawkgirl was due to relieve Green Arrow in the next ten minutes or so. She intended to send Barbara on her way by then, “It was last April, just after midnight on the I-90. We caught up with their truck just outside of Michigan.”

——

April 15th, Eastbound out of Keystone City

”I don't care too much for money, 'cause money can't buy me love!" Cheetah was really considering clawing Addler's vocal folds out as he butchered the classic to the staticky radio. She did not relish the 8 hours it would take to drive to Metropolis with the brat. She looked back into the canopied truck. That little witch was there, sitting in a catatonic coma over the battered remains of Robot Man. At least, Cheetah hoped they were remains. A reboot bringing back the pissed off Doom Patroller while going seventy five in a close fit Toyota truck would be less than ideal.

“Say you don’t need no diamond ring and I’ll be satisfied.”

The good news would be Addler wouldn’t survive the fight.

“Tell me you want the kinds of things that money just can’t--”

The windshield buckled and spiderwebbed as bits of shredded metal cleaved away from the truck or into the cab. Cheetah cursed hard as her safety belt bit into her shoulders and the airbag collided with her face. The back axle kept going forward and kicked off the road as the heavy blow crushed the engine block into the asphalt. Debris, and a collision with the airbag, blinded Cheetah and Addler for a moment. The back wheels slammed back down onto the road. Cheetah clawed her shoulder as she ripped open her seatbelt. The sky bloomed as another brutal swing opened the cab like a tin can.

“Get moving Addler!” Cheetah had launched herself at their attacker before she had seen the heavy metal mace, the gold and black mask, the spread gray wings. Hawkgirl, not the fight Cheetah would have picked. The villainess shrieked out of the truck like a demon from hell. The slut in the back had slammed her body against the canopy and the bed. Robot Man had slid and pinned her to the back.

“Here kitty, kitty,” Hawkgirl baited Cheetah as the two women struck. The mace was dangerous, one good hit and Cheetah would be down and, likely, out. She weaved inside Hawkgirl’s guard. Cheetah’s claws raked up and across Hawkgirl’s chest and for her throat. Cheetah left gouges in the yellow body armor. She had to twist around Hawkgirl’s legs to avoid the next hammerblow. But Hawkgirl wasn’t just a brutal woman with a mace. Her knee cracked hard against the left side of Cheetah’s rib cage. The furred villainess groaned and rolled out of the strike and cut up the asphalt with her claws as she squared back with the feathered heroine.

“You good, Cheetah?” Addler stumbled out of the door. He had that stick he fought with. A solid length of oak whose brass headpiece was missing for a blossom of splinters.

“Shut your mouth and pluck this chick!” Cheetah and Hawkgirl hadn’t slowed their combat for Addler’s presence. Cheetah had to keep the offensive. She had to take out Hawkgirl. The mace scoured a divot in the road. Cheetah cracked her fist off Hawkgirl’s helmet. Addler joined the fray by taking a back kick into the chest.

The distraction allowed Cheetah to draw blood from Hawkgirl’s unprotected biceps. The heroine twisted from the scratch, avoiding muscle damage and following through with a one handed mace cross. Cheetah ducked and drove her elbow hard into Hawkgirl’s hips. The heroine staggered back into the air. The villain sniffed the air.

“That you, kid?” Cheetah grinned. Joy and anger were twisting up inside her guts. There was something narcotic about pummelling Hawkgirl.

“I--” Addler didn’t get to answer. Lightning crackled around the head of Hawkgirl’s mace and Addler couldn’t quickly dodge all of the way out of the way. The meat of his shoulder took the hit. He spun out across the ground. Hawkgirl's momentum staggered. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Let’s end this, birdbrains,” The first car since their fight began appeared down the road via it’s high beams. Cheetah rushed for Hawkgirl’s throat but she couldn’t get a fist, claw or elbow to target. Hawkgirl rose off the ground, taking the blow across her raised thigh and her costume. She dropped a vicious axe kick onto Cheetah’s shoulder. Gold fur hit the asphalt like road kill. The next blow might have cracked her back. Her mace followed the kick with another crackle of energy.

“It's already over, pussy,” Hawkgirl’s blow was interrupted by a spear tackle from Addler. The boy howled in pain as his tender shoulder hit the backside of her armor. She was flying, resisting gravity and had no means to keep herself steady. The pair tumbled hard to the left. Nearly into the next lane. Hawkgirl touched down with her left boot and swung hard in a spin. Addler was tossed out into traffic.

“No!” Screamed Hawkgirl in a bolt of terror gripped her insides. She swooped down and picked up Addler weaving out of the path of the minivan that was screeching and swerving to a halt. It dinged itself against the concrete barrier. The driver ignored the small collision and immediately hurried down the highway.

“Look at the little hero. Won’t even be caught littering,” Cheetah pressed the attack.

Addler struggled up onto his feet. Hawkgirl's mace was crackling like an impatient thundercloud. Asphalt and gravel bloomed as Cheetah jumped back and dove forward with a screaming rake. Addler's arm hung limply as he steadied himself on his stick. His eyes narrowed on Hawkgirl.

"Thgif ot hguone gnorts!" Came the hiss from the truck behind Addler. He rolled his shoulder and stood to his full height. Hawkgirl looped up and away from Cheetah taking a gash across her boot. Strips of her greave peeled back like a banana. Hawkgirl completed her loop. Cheetah moved to bring her elbow down on the back of Hawkgirl's neck, Cheetah hit, but couldn't follow through because of the impact into her abdomen. She flopped and skipped a dozen feet away, her body spasming as it rolled down the roadside hill.

"One down," Hawkgirl turned to face Addler. A blast of energy erupted from the truck. She knocked it away with a casual mace backhand. Her mask was flooded. Tears welled in her eyes. she couldn't raise her weapon. Her body stung from the few blows Cheetah had landed. Addler marched forward.

"Hello Hawkgirl," He spoke, she didn't dodge. Easily she could have but she didn't want to. Nothing felt better than him slamming her into the street.

"I'll take you down," The anger didn't disappear from behind her threat but a stark sadness and fear overcame it. She lifted up, floating her way back to her feet. She didn't make it. As soon as his hand lay on her arm, she felt a burst of happiness unlike anything she had felt before. She rammed her fist hard into his guts.

Addler fell flat on his ass, wheezing. Hawkgirl licked her lips. Dry, fear was boiling under her skin. Some teenaged Mindfuck wasn't enough to stop her! She was a professional. Lift her mace, break his leg, he wouldn't get away. She could take in Cheetah and drag in this child. The boy's eyes opened. He was panicked, and chasing down a breath. But he locked gazes with Hawkgirl. Another mumble resulted in an ethereal wave from the wreck. Hawkgirl's mace fell into the blacktop, cracking a big enough divot that the handle still pointed vaguely skyward. The surge of joy rewarded her again.

Addler was on his feet after a mere eight minutes. His breathing stabilized just moments before. Another set of headlights stretched down towards them. Addler walked Hawkgirl out into the lane. The oncoming vehicle could just as easily take the next lane and speed past but Hawkgirl had a very recognizable silhouette and the battered wreck of a truck would elicit any good Samaritan feelings in the driver. Addler wheezed happily when the courier truck pulled off to the side of the road. Hawkgirl couldn't fight the jelly feeling in her legs or the grin on her lips.

"Are you really Hawkgirl?" The driver peaked his head out the window. He looked over to the car and could smell the leaking gasoline. "Do you need help?"

"Help me," Hawkgirl struggled. The plea burned in real fear, but she couldn't trust it. Addler's hand was on her back, just below her wings, on unprotected skin; she felt incredible.

"There's people in the back of the truck. Help them," Addler declared.

"OK! I'll--" The courier snatched his mobile phone from his pocket. Hawkgirl turned on Addler as the villain slashed his stick down. The courier howled grabbing his wrist. His latest model lexPhone slapped to the ground and it's faceplate shattered. Addler didn't have a hope of avoiding Hawkgirl's roundhouse kick to the face.

For Addler the world had flipped before the sensation of pain reached his brain. He thrust out and the tips of his fingers stubbed the blacktop. Another heartbeat and he slammed shoulders against the road, feet nearly straight up. The first thing Addler had been taught in his fighting lessons was how to hit the ground. He had a lot of practice. His chin was tucked to his chest, his arms were flat out backwards. It was still a hard fall but he kept his neck from breaking and his brain from jostling in his skull. As he rolled onto his left side, blood from his scraped neck colored the road lines.

Hawkgirl felt her moment of pride for hitting the kid be overwhelmed by surges of sadness, and stock fear. The courier had managed to squat down and pick up his phone with his struck hand. Her mild worry over the civilian was untenable in her chaotic mood swings. Her body was like that of an addict. She ignored the courier and rushed to Addler's side. She grabbed his wrist and cradled his neck as she eased him to his feet.

"Oh no," She couldn't keep the tremors from her voice. All the anger she was feeling was for herself, "You're hurt."

"It's over," He traced his fingers over Hawkgirl's jaw and lips. Her helmet only covered to her nose. She felt ecstasy. She pulled him tightly to her. She didn't see her mace crackling. She didn't hear the voice project from the truck. She didn't see the the courier drop his phone again.

"You won't get away with this," Hawkgirl willed herself to defy him.

"Probably not for much longer," Addler escorted Hawkgirl to the grass on top of the hill, "But it doesn't get to be you who stops me."

Those words made her so happy she wanted to choke. He had pulled himself out of her arms. She was left craving and lost. She tried to get angry. It was working. Addler had brushed himself off.

Fall back! Get help! Whatever he is doing, it has you cornered. She reached for her ear. The nearest zeta beam port was in Central City. "Hawkgirl to Justice League--"

"Shit!" Addler swore slamming his fist into Hawkgirl's belly. He was the one who howled when he hit that wall of perfect muscle and armor. She was quickly overcome by that sweet cocktail of burning anger giving way to sudden sadness, rife with fear, and chased by happiness whenever Addler touched her.

"Hawkgirl! Status!" Martian Manhunter's voice shouted paternally in her ear. Addler had to tear up Hawkgirl's helmet. It was on solidly but Addler got a glimpse of green eyes as he yanked the transceiver from her ear. He slapped her helmet back down like he was trying to stuff a cork back into a wine bottle. He gripped her jaw with his left hand and her lips instinctually sucked at his thumb. She spat the moment her mind caught up to her emotions.

"Make them think she's not here!" He yelled throwing the radio. Could she hear steel being dragged over stone?

"Yawa ylf!" Words like gibberish reached her. Her radio became a streak and flew away to the south.

"That'll give me enough time," Addler shrugged off his coat. Hawkgirl couldn't stop her mouth from chasing after his hand.

"No!" The fear couldn't fight the high, the anticipation. He dropped his belt behind him. He yanked his shirt out of his pants and let the pants fall down to his steel toed sneakers. His tighty whities fell next. Hawkgirl was levered by the back of her neck down onto her knees. Flapping her wings to pull away just made her depressed.

Addler was tall. His legs weren't devoid of muscle and yet they were still thin sticks. His costume, little more than a thrift store suit with the jacket stretched to let him throw a punch, was so poorly sized to his body that he appeared even more spindly, even insectoid. He had an angular boyish face obscured by his domino mask. His rat's nest of orange hair accented the green color scheme. Hawkgirl processed none of that.

Hawkgirl was no shrinking violet. She lived her life hard and loud. Surrounded by men built like gods with the power and confidence to match, nothing Addler had bared to her could intimidate her. John Stewart hadn't intimidated Hawkgirl and he had Addler plus a can of Coke. This was just a cock. Hard and eager with malice and triumph. She felt anger but that just rolled into sadness, peppered with fear and was overcome by joy. She shivered. She held back tears. She instigated the blowjob.

Her tongue slid tenderly over the head. Her lips clasped tightly over the skin. She rolled her head, the cock rubbing against the inside of her cheek as she reached up and grabbed the base in her hand. Addler moaned and tightened his fist in her red hair. He guided, his hand on the top of her helmet, her to what he desired. She warmed in joy and wrath. She wouldn't be hurried. His thin precursor dribbled onto her tongue. Her right hand ran a fingernail from her slowly pumping left thumb to her sloppily tight lips.

"You suck as hard as you fight," he warbled. The pull started to work and her lips rolled forward and retreated back a few times but slowly she inched down his cock. It was easy to tell what he wanted, what he liked. If she took him well: joy. If she didn't: sorrow. She had clearly lost control but she was quickly ceding more. He wanted his cock into her throat and so did she.

"Ow!" He snapped. Fear flooded her and she pulled back but that had felt good and she was diving back down again. "Ow!"

The beak of her helmet had stabbed his pelvis. Hawkgirl had never felt as defeated as when Addler had pulled her back and lifted her mouth off of his cock. She gaped, like a fish, rubbing her lips all over the head of his cock. He pulled her one more inch. She had to take her hands off of him. Her left hand ran up and down the shaft while her right held the base tightly. Addler grinned and Hawkgirl was elated. Each moment that she wasn't sucking his cock, fear grew inside her like smoke from a volcano. She leaned forward but he held her back. She slowly let go of his cock. He didn't want her helmet. It was the only way to get that feeling again. Her hands shuddered as she reached for her helmet.

"I don't want to fuck some redhead," He grabbed her wrists tightly, "I'm here for Hawkgirl."

He threw her arms backwards. She added her own momentum on the way to the ground. Her legs kicked around summoning every ounce of resistance she could muster. She had taken Addler in a scissor sweep. The counter to a scissor sweep is to grab hold of the higher leg and drive the attacker's weight into the shoulder she is balanced on. Hawkgirl had been way too fast for Addler to have countered, even just a minute before. She shrieked as she impacted the ground and was rolled onto her back. Her wings fell limp and bracketed her body. She was beautiful and toned but not a large woman. Her wings normally added size and noise to her intimidating mask and warrior spirit. She looked more like a beaten woman on a bed of feathers.

"I don't want you to do this," Hawkgirl wasn't even sure that was the truth at the moment.

"Then you should have won our fight." He tossed away the boot from the leg he still held. She kicked off her shredded one. Her heart leapt into her throat. She was giving in; it felt incredible.

His knee crushed a few of her feathers.She pushed herself up onto her elbows.He stripped her body armor from her breasts. He quickly rolled the strapless bra down with it. Addler lit up to see her large breasts jiggle free. Hawkgirl hissed in a sharp breath as he laid his hands on her.

"Magnificent," She felt uplifted by the compliment: shuddering ecstasy when he took her nipple in between his teeth. She staggered and clenched her jaw when she realized she was pulling his head into her body.

"Oh my God," She gasped. He was pulling back from her. She tired to embrace him tighter, but he pushed her arms down to her sides. Her nipples were pockmarked from his teeth and the shape of his hands and fingers were just fading red splotches on her skin. She winced as he knelt on more of her feathers. Her elbows were pinned to her waist. His cock was still slick with her saliva hovered over her breasts. He reached behind himself and jiggled her harness.

"Get rid of this belt," She felt fear at his words and joy at his touch. He grabbed her tightly by either nipple and pulled her tit flesh around his cock. She gave a whimpering grunt as he fucked into her tits. She huffed and coughed when he slid back against her diaphragm. Her fingers had a tight grip on his ass. If she didn't let go, she wouldn't be helping him. The face of his cock was peaking out from her hard used breasts. She almost had a breath when he let go and grabbed her by the wings of her helmet, "The belt!"

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it." She felt anger underneath everything as she scrambled for the buckle. The sorrow and fear were not erupting anymore but they didn't really go away. The joy just seem to overtake them. He humped her tits with a bored looking smile. Her body wasn't good enough for him? What if he--Stop it! Yet her hands wouldn't. The utility pouches on her harness caught oner belt loops and ended up scattered around her hips as she yanked the belt out.

"Attagirl!" Addler grinned and Hawkgirl almost thought she loved that smile. She knew she hated the man. It was the only thing keeping her mind intact. He lifted up off of her wings and she flapped them out to either side. She ignored the wing pain only because her tits had never been so sore.

"Don't!" She rasped and she knew it was her last time. If she spoke again she might find herself asking for it. He just grinned like death. He scooted down and tore her into her waistband and yanked her pants down over her legs. She kicked out and almost managed to plant her heels and try retreating before he grabbed her by the ankle and dragged him to her. She twisted her helmet away from that toothy smile.

"Smooth," He commented dragging a hand over her sexual lips, "Chicks of your species just hairless or do you like that porn star look?"

"Fuck--" Off? You? Me? Please? Hawkgirl couldn't finish the thought. Her body blossomed as his finger penetrated her. She hadn't been wet. That made her angry. His finger was worrying her clit and it felt adolescent and overeager. She felt beyond giddy. His tongue ran wildly over her lips and she shivered to find herself responding. As quickly as he started he had stopped. Another thought came to her lips without context, "Why?"

"Because, I won," He announced and settled himself between her thighs. His cock and his hand slipped around her sex until he found ingress. She shrieked. Her legs were split and wide to the sides. Her ankles vibrated in the air. Her throat flexed as tightly as she could. Not another scream. Not another moment of weakness. He laid his hand in her armpits and she tightly gripped his biceps. He put all the strength from his knees through his shoulders into fucking her.

Physically, she hadn't had a worse lover since her schooldays. Emotionally, no lover could compare. Every moment with this man was a tumult of psychotropic sensation. She bit inside her lip. She wanted to scream, just a little direction and he'd be all the lover she ever wanted. Her sex started flooding. Her body folded tight against his. Her voice broke free.

"Make me want it!" she panted. The immediate embarrased and self loathing blush rushed from her cheeks to her navel.

"Then move your hips and help me, you stupid bird," He grunted. She lowered her heels into the gravel and kicked up with her butt muscles. He sucked on her neck and she squeezed his back around her shoulders. Her feelings were a mess but she could feel the energy amassing inside her. She could see her pleasure in the future. She was building quicker than she had ever managed before.

"Fuck you have a tight quim!" He growled.

"No! No! No no no!" She bellowed as the spit of cum tickled her insides. Addler was breathing slowly and smugly. She only let him go out of fear. He touched her arms and she recoiled. He touched her knee and she spread wide enough for him to extract his cock. She madly reached for her clit as he wiped himself off on the inside of her thigh.

"Relax, Hawkgirl," He sneered, "I'm not some geezer who pops once and calls the nurse."

"What?" He was rolling his cock in his left hand. A few more meagre dollops ran out of the tip. He was flushed, but his cock was still semi-hard. His right hand slapped the outside of her thigh. He reached down to grab a handful of ass cheek. She didn't stop on her clit and that made her feel such joy. His first tug did little. His second tug made her happiness stop coming. The third tug settled fear in her guts. The fourth tug and she rolled over for him, immediately carried off by the unnatural bliss.

"No," The roller coaster of emotions had staggered her manic needs. Her sex still wept but her fingers had taken to the rough roadside and propped her up on all fours. She quaked as he spit into her crack. His thumb traced his saliva around her asshole. He was going to fuck her ass! She shook and rocked to get away but all Addler saw was a sensual roll of her hips. His thumb breached her asshole. She screamed. It felt too amazing! Damn him! His thumb kinked upwards and he used her ass as a handle. She scrambled but she could only resist in gesture because the feelings chased her back.

"My cunt!" Hawkgirl was hit by such a wave of relief when she found herself impaled in the sex once again. Her heart hammering and her mind roiling left her on the brink. The squelch of Addler fucking through his own seed became music to her ears. By the time his cock was fully seated inside her, her body was spasming. She saw colors, blue steel and red copper. Her eyes had begun rolling up as her helmet had slipped forward on her sweat soaked hair.

"Get your feathers out of my face!" She called out again as he grabbed fistfuls of gray plumage. The slap of skin and the burn of shallow breaths echoed off the treeline. Her body slumped as Addler attacked her with vigor. Her already mauled breasts swished over the dirt and gravel of the roadside. He yanked her wings each time he drove his cock into her body. The soreness of her now empty asshole drowned in anger and joy. Her body had stopped spasming; the orgasm had dissipated.

"You won't get away with this!" Hawkgirl stifled the squealed cliche. He had been right the first time. She wasn't the one who was going to stop him. She could do nothing to prevent him from having fucked her. He might meet a deserved end but he would still have succeeded in the crime. Frustration was blooming like the joy she was being forced to feel. She pulled him into her with flaps of her wings. Anything to finish him and end her ordeal. Their noise grew clamorous. He couldn't breathe for the wheezes. She felt the spasms again. No! Anger and joy and sensation cheated her body. She would come again. Part of her demanded he leave her unfulfilled a second time. Her insteps curled and her shoulders tightened. Her eyes had never been closed as forcefully.

"Cumming again?" Addler grimaced, "That's not really the point. This is my victory dance, birdie!"

Hawkgirl answered with a heaving hot breath. Her tongue tasted the sweat pooled in the beak of her helmet. Her sex clamped down on his cock. Her fingers tore out the short grasses beneath them. Her nails scraped over bits of rock and gravel. He was going to yank her feathers out. Her body matched his fire red skin. The splash of semen ricocheted in her canal once more. He dropped tight against her back. She whimpered as his arms wrapped her body and hugged her breasts. She struggled to hold the two of them upright as his breath teased the back of her neck.

"We've loaded up that heavy bastard," The courier mumbled as he stepped forward. Hawkgirl was startled. She lost the battle with his physical and her emotional weight. She collapsed down onto her wrists and and her wings snapped tightly around her exposed body.

"Good, I'm all done here," Addler yawned and reclaimed his feet. He pulled up Hawkgirl's wing and dried his cock of their sexual fluids. Hawkgirl couldn't throw off the shame even with the accomplished sense of joy she was feeling, "You're truck has GPS?"

"Yeah, and head office just called. I told them I was held up by an accident," He mumbled. His face was stark with confusion and fear. He kept looking to the victim, a superheroine! He wanted to piss himself but he was under strict orders to keep it together. His mind ran on like jittery clockwork. The only thought he was sure was his own was to ask his girlfriend to wear a Hawkgirl costume to bed very soon, "We picking up your friend down the hill?"

"I gave her enough time to get on her feet," Addler shrugged, "If she isn't coming, we can't afford to spend time on her."

Hawkgirl rose up to her feet. Her body was stiff and sore and her stomach roiled as badly as her brain. She immediately ran for her mace. twisting her head up and down the highway not seeing even the glimpse of the courier truck's tail lights. Her throat was hoarse and she was running out of expletives when she had recovered her costume. She tossed her destroyed boot near the busted truck. With her harness tightened, Hawkgirl swooped down to Cheetah. The feline villain was breathing, shallowly, blood was running over her lips. Hawkgirl grabbed a fisful of short coppery hair and dragged the villain up the hillside to the road. The air had erupted in sirens. Two police cruisers and an ambulance were just a couple of minutes out.

"Hawkgirl! Hell, my wife isn't going to believe this!" The first of four cops gummed as he stepped out of the first of two police cars. These were state police, heroes tended to deal more with federal agents and city police. Hawkgirl stepped aside, there was clear distance between her and the first responders. the ambulance pulled in a moment later.

"Officer Shuster," Hawkgirl said looking down at the man's badge, "I need to use your radio."

"It's sergeant actually," He replied but she was slipping into the open driver side door of the cruiser and picking up the CB microphone without giving him a moment.

"This is Jay-Elle-Oh-Niner Hawkgirl. Radio compromised. Need immediate support."

"What? Get off this channel! This is an official police band! Do you know how much troub--" The crackling radio interrupted snarky woman dispatcher.

"Hawkgirl! Am I glad to hear from you," Martian Manhunter managed to sound both infinitely relieved and perfectly stoic all at once, "Flash had just recovered your radio and is retracing it's flight path. He'll arrive shortly. I've also sent Captain Mar--"

"Hey Hawkgirl!" She missed the rest of the sitrep as Captain Marvel and Mary Marvel touched down on either side of Cheetah's beaten form, "I can see you didn't leave anything for us."

"Take me to Central City now!" Hawkgirl flew to Mary.

"Look, I know who you are but we still need details and--"

Captain Marvel's hand silenced the sergeant. "If it's urgent, I'm faster and--"

Mary had looked through the eyeholes in Hawkgirl's mask. She took off before Captain Marvel could finish the offer.

"I guess I'm looking after Cheetah," Captain Marvel announced awkwardly to the collection of police and EMT's. "Who has indestructible handcuffs?"

——
January 22nd, Watchtower Main Elevator

Barbara didn't resent offers to push her wheelchair, but she most often declined. She demanded a level of competence and self reliance from herself. When Hawkgirl's story had arrived at the rape, Barbara had noticed her friend falling behind. Talking to the back of Barbara's head had made it easier. Luckily, they hadn't ran into Ted or that android before they had come to the elevator.

The two women rested in silence as the lift started moving. Barbara spoke first. "I'm certain that he must be the same guy."

"How?" Hawkgirl shook her head, "I saw the Jump City footage. That guy was at almost twice as large and strong enough to send Connor flying!"

"I talked to Robin when she was put in the hospital. The way you describe him, the way you say he spoke, they're too close to her story to be coincidence," The elevator settled on the observation deck. Green Arrow was playing space invaders on the big screen.

"Then what now?" Hawkgirl asked.

"Evening ladies," Green Arrow was ignored.

"I have to prove it," Barbara sighed, "I have to visit the Titans."

——
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Who is Child 52?