Blood Red Blades

Chapter Four

Chapter Four - Secrets of the Kelpies,

Third Person

Barbara wanted to slap some sense into everyone. Okay, not everyone. Just Bruce and Dick. Both men normally act like immature two-year-olds, despite being two of the oldest in the family. The two of them had it worse than Bruce and Jason (she thinks) - shouting matches erupt or disapproving/pointing glares and accusing fingers. Some feuds would last for days; other would last for minutes, but when it was over neither talked about it. It was a 'you don't talk about it, I don't talk about it, all is forgiven until it is not' agreement between them.

Idiots.

They were too alike. That was the big problem. Despite appearing different, the two were all the same in heart. Everyone but the two knew it, Babs most of all. She was the one other than Alfred that had dealt with their nonsense the longest. She had the front-row seats to most of their arguments, whether with her own eyes or on HD video. It was annoying and just so stupid that Barbara wanted to punch both until they shut up and focus on what was important.

She, somehow, restrained herself.

All this time she dealt with their petty and pathetic arguments, but now she cracked. She had yelled at both men before taking a break from Batgirl. She did not want to be the peacekeeper between the two children, so she decided some space would be nice. Of course, no one else knew about that as the previous agreement came into effect.

As she watched the two teens faced the looming warehouse, the woman felt the need to slip into the costume and get the hell there. Her gut told her something was not feel right. The half-done walls and the rusting pipes held something, someone. Through her years as a vigilante, she followed both logic and her gut. Her gut kept her alive on the job and it was mostly right. She always listened to it, and when she didn't...

Well, she was found in a pool of her own blood and confined to a wheelchair.

"Oracle, any structural weaknesses we should know? Or is it safe to grapnel?" Red Robin asked, adjusting the rope on the said gun.

The redhead scanned the digital report of the last inspection, cross-referencing it to the original construction blueprints. Nothing to indicate weak surfaces; the walls were lined with wood and sheets of steel, no doubt corroded like the pipes. Since the warehouse rested on a marshier part of Gotham, it was obvious that the wood inside would be rotted and obviously unstable, perhaps they finished the concrete underlay?

After relaying all the intel, the two vigilantes on the other side nodded. Tim turned to his younger brother, who examined the dark silhouette of the construction. "We'll get a little closer before going on foot."

Robin nodded silently, gesturing to a billboard that stood half-submerged in marshy mulsh. There was peeling text that read 'City Vision.' There was no reason for the project to stop, so why did it? It was looming above their heads like a taunt... or a warning.

The two grapnelled onto the board, careful to avoid any suspicious parts and the shattered bulbs. After nearly impaling his foot on multiple bulbs, the youngest tutted and muttered a colourful choice of words under his breath. "Remind me," he hissed, "To tell father that he needs to tear this place down."

"I've already got a draft all planned out," Red Robin replied, avoiding a shaky plank which had something growing on it. "First thing I'm going to do tomorrow. Definitely."

"Less talk, more work?" Oracle suggested, eyes flickering through the surrounding CCTV cameras that still worked. They were an awful black-and-white that had a harsh tendency to glitch out. She was only limited to the suit cams if she wanted to see the inside of the building and follow their progress. She hated that; it only made that feeling in her gut tighter.