2013-12-25 - Christmas in Gotham

Gotham City, Christmas Day, late morning.

Not many places are open on this day of the year, which had been working to Adam's advantage. The 'suggestion' that had been made for him to stay at the Academy and let the adults handle things only lasted so long as a deterrent-- now that Neil was feeling undepressed enough to get out of bed and do /something/ (even if that was sit in the Mancave and play video games), Adam's feet were itchy. So, to the point, was his trigger finger.

Knowing that everyone in 'authority' was going to be Christmasing it up, Adam bailed late the night prior, making his way down into Gotham, a crumpled paper he had lifted from the lab he had gotten the strange weapon from in his hand. Maybe he should have shown this to Hawkeye too, but nah. The guy was intent on keeping Adam from handling anything, and that was seriously uncool.

Black and purple backpack slung on one shoulder over his trenchcoat, Adam makes his way into a little pizzaria in Summerset. Food would definitely be a wise idea, because passing out from hunger /and/ exhaustion (seriously, no sleep last night) while trying to dig up information is even more uncool than Hawkeye adulting at him. Geez.

He waits impatiently at the hostess stand. Yeah. One teenager off on his own on Christmas day totally doesn't look suspicious.

The door opens and the little bell above it tinkles. "I still say the ticket to Abu Dhabi was a perfectly valid gift for Tim," Damian complains. "Have you been to Abu Dhabi? It's a decent city." Yep, Damian is probably forbidden to read Garfield comics now, but there it is. "And thanks for stopping, I'm starving," Damian adds to Carrie as they enter the shop. Sure they had Christmas breakfast, but with the amount of training he's been doing lately, and also being thirteen, Damian is pretty much a bottomless pit where food is concerned.

He notices the boy with the weird hair, and sniffs slightly. Damian for his part is in jeans, Converse sneakers, and a Gotham U hoodie under an expensive looking leather jacket, into the pockets of which he has stuffed both hands.

"You know your dad isn't going to let you get away with that. And you also know I've never been to Abu Dhabi. I didn't think it existed anymore... Regimes change so quickly," Carrie murmurs with a shake of her head as she makes a mental note to brush up on her geography a bit. "I still need to figure out something for Dick. He's... harder." Oh if only he had a girlfriend she could set him up to have a night off with like she were doing for the Boss.

The smell of pizza, oh god so good, is drawn in with a deep breath and a contented sigh. "No problem. I haven't had decent junk food in awhile and this place has a great greasy slice... It's perfect." She beams brightly while bouncing on the balls of her foot wearing a pair of cute knee-high brown boots, black sweater-knit leggings, and a short flowery skirt tucked beneath her own jacket. A tan knit scrunched hat was atop her head keeping her ginger hair a bit at bay where it didn't peek out near her glasses. Looking toward the other boy she grins toward him without even thinking of it. "Merry Christmas!"

"Uh... Merry Christmas." Adam says, giving the other two a somewhat sideways look. Rich kids. A street kid can pick them off a mile away. Most of them are dicks. The girl's kinda cute though. He flexes a fingerless-gloved hand idly, waiting on the hostess.

The hostess, harried, comes to the stand, looking at the three of them. "Table for three?" she asks, grabbing three menus. The assumption isn't a completely horrible one, they are all about the same age.

Still. "Nah, I'm..." By myself? Yeah, that never goes over well with adults. Not with them could work. Ooh, or 'waiting on my Dad', or girlfrie-- no, we'll stick with Dad. That usually gets them to leave off for a bit. Still, the thought of Eileen causes his face to twist for a moment.

"I suppose the bombing did make it somewhat less pleasant," Damian decides with a small shrug and a smile before he shakes his head. "I just donated money on Dick's behalf, figured it was the easiest thing to do," he says before the hostess is there and asking if they're a group. He looks about ready to answer before he shrugs and looks to Carrie, already anticipating what she'll say to the hostess' question.

"Three's fine," Carrie chirps easily in response as she grins over toward Adam having caught that hesitation in him. A look toward to Damian is offered with a shrug after as she says, "The more's the merrier! I'm Carrie Kelley," she offers toward Adam even as she rolls her shoulders back to shrug out of her jacket now that they were somewhere far warmer. "This is Damian." Last name with-held for reasons.

"Uh. Sure." Adam looks a bit uncomfortable for a moment, but shrugs. New friends, right? "Adam Turner. Nice to meet you both, Carrie, Damian."

The hostess leads them back to an empty booth and leaves them with the menus, promising a waitress will be by shortly.

"Thanks for the company," he says.

Yep. Just like Damian figured. He waves at Adam when he's introduced "Sorry if you were looking for privacy," he says to Adam. "She does do this sort of thing from time to time," though his tone isn't unfriendly, progress really, it's just a wry observation of events.

He slips off his jacket and stuffs it carelessly into the booth beside him as he sits down next to Carrie. "So, uh, what do we do now?" he asks the table, as social things, especially when strangers are involved has never been his strong suit.

Carrie slides into the far side of the booth letting Damian sit beside her. Her own jacket is just lightly tucked into the side of the booth next to her leg where it could be grabbed easily. "Nice to meet you Adam... and there's nothing wrong with company or meeting new people, Damian," she adds with a little nudge of her elbow into his side. Crossing her arms on the table in front of her she fishes up a menu. "Well do we want to just grab a few slices or figure out a pie to share? There's enough of us now we could order a whole one. Especially," she adds with a look of amusement between the two boys. "If you guys have similar appetites."

"Nah, I'm used to group stuff anyway," Adam responds with a shrug, tossing his backpack into the booth and sliding after it. "I figure we eat some pizza, drink some pop, and whatever." He grabs a menu, flipping it open, as he looks over at Carrie. "We could probably split a pie, sure. Oh, nice, they have fried motz. It's horrible for you, but I usually don't care." He peruses the menu, considering. "I'll eat anything, 'cept anchovies and pineapple. Fruit doesn't belong on pizza." He muses. "But green pepper almost always does."

"I can name several examples when that was most definitely not the case," Damian counters to Carrie, but his tone is light. "Sure we can split a pie. I don't have any restrictions, as long as it is food," he says with a nod.

"Great!" Carrie grins with a look that was clearly conniving in some manner or another. "Then we're getting the BAT Pie. It's awesome. We can do the motz, too." Looking down to her menu she purses her lips in a quiet 'oh' as she spots another appetizer. "And the fried pickles. That sounds amazing right now." Looking up she glances to the waitress that comes over and relays what she had decided on only to grin broadly, "And get a pitcher of soda, too. Cola and..." she looks toward Adam to see if that's okay.

"Yeah, that works." Adam replies to the idea of cola. "Never had fried pickles. Sounds either tasty or horrifying." he shrugs.

"You guys live around here, I'm guessing?" Adam asks after the order is placed. "You know the quickest way to East End? I'm assuming go east, but you guys don't exactly have a subway like I'm used to. And I'd rather not grab a cab unless I have to." Cab drivers have memories. "So, crosstown streets, numbered, right?" Big cities should be laid out like Manhattan, dammit. Say what you will about New York, finding your way around is easy.

Damian quirks an eyebrow at Carrie "/What/ is a BAT pie?" he asks. The rest of the food must pass muster with Damian as he doesn' comment on the rest of it. "And yes, I go to school here," Damian confirms. "Where in the East End are you going? The city is somewhat- disorganized, especially after the quake. It took me awhile to find my way around."

"East End? That's not really a good section of town," Carrie murmers with concern as she regards Adam. "Why're you going there? We can probably point you in the right direction, sure." While the two discuss directions she scoops up the menus to stack in a neat pile for the waitress to pick up when she returns with the pitcher of soda. "Oh, it's Bacon Avacado and Tomato with a garlic sauce. It's really good," she assures in spite of the odd nature of toppings for it.

Adam gives a cross street, but not an address, in East End near the Forbidden Zone. He doesn't give any other information, either.

When Carrie explains the pie, he nods. "Sounds good... haven't tried it, but can't be too bad." He grins.

"Ah, so it's not homage to the vigilante then?" Damian says as he settles back into his seat but when Adam names the cross street he leans forward shaking his head. "Why do you want to go there?" he asks. "Because if you're just looking to kill yourself, Gotham does have a number of bridges available."

"Of course it is, but it's using toppings that are actually like... toppings and not..." Carrie tries to consider how to explain it a moment before shrugging. "I don't think bats are legally edible in the United states, plus that'd be hard for the FDA to regulate." Is she being serious? she smirks a bit though and gives a laugh of amusement that fades at Damian's remark. Eyes widening she gives him a little nudge. "Damian that's not nice. He's right though, that's a really dangerous place in the city."

Adam shrugs casually. "I'm not scared of a bad area, man. And I'm just checking the place out." And probably breaking in. Maybe breaking a couple of heads until he gets some answers. But these guys don't need to know that.

The waitress returns with three glasses, a pitcher of soda, plates, napkins, and utensils. "The fried mozzarella and fried pickles will be out shortly," she declares politely, before scooping up the menus and departing.

Damian takes the pitcher and pours out three cups of soda as he advises says simply. "I am just providing a less painful alternative to the same result," he says before looking over at Adam. "Why do you want to check it out so badly?" he asks with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Carrie looks askance at Damian rather uncertainly. When the soda is poured she reaches out to take hold of it pulling it in for a little sip before she speaks again. "Okay, level with us here. None of us are adults here. So what's the big deal about going to the Narrows? That's near the Forbidden Zone. Have you... have you /heard/ of the Joker before? Guys like him run around there."

Adam's lips flatten. He's not exactly secret agent material, but he's not stupid enough to explain the whole mess to a couple of people he just met.

...but they aren't adults. And there's a little bit of information he could give without giving too much away. "Either of you mutants?" he asks finally. "If you are, stay away from that 'cure' stuff. It's bad news. I found something that says there might be someone I can pry some info out of at this address." He tosses the crumpled paper-- an address written on a doctor Jonothan Crane's prescription pad-- onto the table. The address is for an old, supposedly closed lab (the kind you get drug tests and bloodwork done at).

"Figured I'd look around, see if there was anything obvious going on there." Adam takes a swig of his soda. "I'm not afraid of a couple of goons." He shrugs. "I've seen worse." His hand goes to his bag, patting it thoughtlessly.

Damian takes a very pointed sip of his soda when Carrie mentions the Joker, and he takes a moment to watch the snow plow roll on by. Though when the question of Mutants come up, he looks back over frowning and setting his cup on the table. "No, we're not from that world," he says about being mutants and then takes the note and looks at it, the name on the note, makes his eyebrows raise and he cuts a look towards Carrie before he shows it to her. "Though this stuff you're talking about, you mean Newt right? Some people were talking about it at my school."

Carrie reaches out to take the note examining it a moment with a studious expression and small frown. It's not so much the address that bothers her as the letterhead it's on. "Yeah, heard of it. Friend of a friend died of it not long ago," she murmers honestly without saying anything more. Like who it was that she's friends with. Reaching down with her free hand she pulls out her cellphone and types into it quickly while holding the paper beneath it like taking a picture. Was she? Or... It's slid back a moment later and she lays her phone down depicting a map of Gotham City with the area in question listed. "That's one of the old clinics. I don't even know if it's still up or not anymore. There's a lot of fires, and fighting in that area between gangs."

"Yeah. Newt. Humans use it to get high, muties use it for a cure. It's not a cure though." Adam takes a breath, his tone lowering. "It's poison. People are dying--" his voice catches slightly. Get it together, Turner, "from using it. It's evil. Give them false hope, leave them with nothing but fear, and death." He remembers too clearly the look on Eileen's face. He shakes his head, banishing the memory.

"Found that when I was looking through a... uh... place." He's not admitting to dealing, not right now, and there's not a way to explain without that coming out. "Same room as some weird tech. So, I'm here."

With Carrie's explanation, he nods. "Sounds about right," he replies, though he doesn't elaborate.

Damian nods. "Exactly what I was saying, but with fewer words," he says in regards to the neighbourhood. Then he looks across at Adam, and tries a different approach "Then if it's poison, then it needs to be stopped," a pause. "But by the authorties. If Crane is selling poison, let us handle it, we can call the authorities with what you told us and have them shut him down."

"Yeah... The police here probably would do good with that information. I mean. Really. Gotham's got enough drug problems they don't want another, and there's no whole issue with mutants here as elsewhere so it's not going to be looked at like a savior of anything. Just another drug to be taken care of." Carrie frowns lightly only to glance at the bag that Adam had patted curiously.

The waitress comes back, placing the appetizers down on the table. "The pizza should be out shortly. And I'll bring another pitcher then, too." She slips away.

"Yeah, thanks, but no thanks." Adam shakes his head, a stubborn set to his jaw. "I'm just going to go check the place out. If it's worth letting the cops know about, I might." He sighs. "Whoever Crane is, he may be in trouble, too-- the guys making this stuff probably aren't the nicest types, you know." And he has no idea who Crane is anyway, except a doctor who's RX pad was being used. "Anyway. Look, most of the people... dealing it and whatever... they don't know its poison. Everyone thinks it's a good thing-- a drug without addiction, a cure, whatever. It's not illegal, technically, just on the borderline. So it's not like the cops can do much anyway."

Damian takes one of the deep fried pickles and considers it for a moment before he takes a bite. He frowns a little at first before he hmms "Not bad," he says before he sets it down on a napkin and looks over to Adam, his eyes blue eyes all serious "tt. You really want to die don't you. The cops /will/ check that place out if my family asks them to, so, there's no reason to go and die, or do whatever it is you're planning to do with whatever you have in your bag. Since this seems to mean something to you, stay with us, when we hear back about it, you'll know what's going on."

Carrie tips her head toward Damian when he urges that only to press her lips together with a hesitant smile. "His brother's a cop so... It's possible that we can pull some strings. Or he can," she clarifies with a grin that's meant to be reassuring. "Any way. We should at least /eat/ first one way or another... And try it with the ranch sauce, Damian, it's awesome." So saying she plucks up a friend pickle herself to dip in the little container that came with it before taking a bite. It's a quick one as she licks her lips and sweeps up the white bit of ranch that smeared over the corner of her mouth in the process. If it weren't for the topic of discussion at hand it may be a bit lewd.

"Heh." Adam looks distinctly uncomfortable. "Cops... look, I didn't know your brother was a cop or anything. It's nothing personal, I just don't really trust them." He snags a mozzarella stick and takes a bite, then washes it down with soda.

Carrie's... uh... lip licking... draws Adam's attention for a moment, and his brows lift, but he quickly averts his eyes and pays attention to the appetizers. The redhead is pretty, of course, but he's not dumb enough to flirt with what he assumes to be her boyfriend right there.

"Yeah. We'll eat. You guys do what you need to do, and I'll do what I need to do. These guys are pretty dangerous, but they aren't clueless when it comes to legal shit. They've been handling everything as above-board as possible as long as I've been dealing with them--" he cuts himself off. Shit.

Damian stares as well, just a second or two, but he stares and there's sort of a longing there that you don't see from the guy that's dating the girl he's staring at. He quickly turns back to his food and takes a drink of cola before he gets back to business. "He's not really my brother, but you can trust him, he's what's the word?" he looks to Carrie. "As straight edge as they come, really, well except when it comes to girls."

He pulls out his phone to text Dick. < At the pizza place at X and X, need to talk to you in your official capacity, officer Grayson >.

Once he's done he sets down the phone, and looks over at Adam, blinking. "Ah, so you're in business with them," he says frowning. "That's why you don't want to go to the police."

"Adopted brother. Still counts," Carrie assures only to smile as reassuringly as possible toward the pair. "It's cool, really. Normally I'd say it wouldn't be a big deal to look into but so far this stuff..." Her voice trails off a moment only for her to swallow hard. "It kind of freaks me out. My friend Julian lost another friend who was taking it and it's just... Please? He's not gonna be asking too many questions. But he can help get the information to the right people at least." At Damian's remark she nods toward him. "Straight laced. Straight edge means you don't drink or take drugs. He's one of the good guys--Really good guys, not just some creep who uses his badge to abuse his power. Serious."

"Geez." Adam rubs the back of his neck ruefully. "'In business' isn't exactly accurate... I dealt for them for awhile." He grimaces. "Past tense. But yeah, that's why I don't really want to deal with cops." Besides, he's out of New York. It'll be really hard to convince a judge-- if it comes to that, which he suspects it will-- that he's not a flight risk if he's hopping state lines.

"Wait, Julian? Keller?" Adam looks surprised. "...yeah. Same friend." He looks out into the restaurant, taking a breath. "She was my girlfriend. I gotta find out who's doing this, for her."

Before entering, Damian receives a text 

Dick enters the pizza joint, He is wearing his street clothes of a blue t-shirt and jeans. Dick is about to walk over to order some pizza, but soon sees Carrie, Damian, and some kid he is not familiar with. Being the helpful big brother that he is, Dick approaches the trio, "Carrie, Damian. Who's your friend?" His tone is lacking in any tone. He does not sit, but instead stands with his arms crossed.

"Straight lace? I always thought lace was sort of wavy," Damian muses absently before his phone buzzes. He checks his phone and texts back < Really, and here I thought Bludhaven had annexed Summer Set. Thanks. Also, Merry Christmas >.

He sets down the phone and looks over at Adam "So, wait, you know Keller too? We saw his parents at this party and he was-" he pauses when Dick's shadow falls over the table and he glances up at his older brother/sometimes mentor, and jerks his head upwards in greeting. "Dick Grayson, this is Adam, Adam, this is Dick Grayson," he says doing the introductions as matter-of-fact as possible and then says "Adam has some information you might want to pass on to the local authorities, also, we're about to have BAT pie, so, join us."

"That was your girlfriend?" Carrie reaches out across the table without thinking to grasp hold of Adam's hand giving it a squeeze. "I'm so sorry." Another squeeze is given as her lip is bitten looking rather stricken over the whole event. For as bad as she knew Julian felt she could only imagine how Adam would feel having his girlfriend die too. Her head turns to look up toward Dick when he arrives offering a weak smile. "Yeah. Join us," she agrees only to look back toward Adam at that point. "We can help. I promise."

Adam looks somewhat wary at Dick, but scoots over closer to his backpack to leave room for him to join them. Carrie's touch startles him a bit, and he gives her a weak grin. "Hey now," he says. "I'm dealing with it." As for the information... well, he lightly grabs the scrap of paper off the table. "And really, Damian... it's okay. We don't need to get anyone involved." Anyone, the implication being, cops.

Dick nods, and takes the offered seat. The mention of authorities causes the Haven county officer to raise a brow, but he still offers a hand to Adam, "Pleased to meet'cha." He relaxes in the seat a little, but not too much. Dick frowns and says to Adam, with a tone that actually sounds sympathetic, "Don't worry, kid. If there are people causing problems, we need to know. I can't force you to talk, but if you need anything, let me know."

Damian frowns a little when sympathy is offered to Adam, his brow bunching in mild self-reproach. "Yes, I am sorry to hear of your loss," he offers, his tone somewhat stilted yet, somehow at least somewhat sincere. He takes a drink of his cola to let the feelings stuff pass a little before he looks across the table. "You can trust him," Damian assures the teen before he nods in Dick's direction. "The word on the street is that this Doctor," he makes a show of trying to recall the name, he glances upwards. "Jonothan Crane, is distributing the drug Newt in the East End by the Forbidden Zone," there is a flicker of a significant look thrown in Dick's direction. "Do you know him?"

Carrie opens her mouth again when Dick sits down offering his help. Damian speaks up to let him in on the situation, and she merely pats Adam's hand one final time before withdrawing hers. "Yeah, I know Julian," she affirms though it was kind of obvious at this point. Smiling softly she reaches out to pick up one of the fried mozarella sticks at this point not forgetting that she was hungry... but not taking an immediate bite either given the subject matter. "Up to you if you want to share the details, Adam."

Adam scowls some, finishing his cheese stick. "I don't know if he's the distributor in this area," he says finally. "I don't know that kind of thing. But I'm thinking that lab may be a distribution point, which may mean I can backtrack higher up the chain." He looks over at Dick. "No offense, but cops aren't exactly my cup of tea. Not fond of handcuffs."

Dick listens and gives a nod at Damian to indicate his understanding. Turning back to Adam, he says, "I see, and fully understand, if I had shown up in my blues . While it may not be my turf, and the stuff isn't technically illegal, so unless they are selling the stuff without paying taxes, or having all of the licenses needed, my hands are tied." He frowns, not being a fan of the stuff, or Crane.

Damian, nods, but his fingers drum impatiently on the table. "Not really the answer I was hoping for, Dick," he says with a frown. "Certainly someone you know could at least look into it, and save Adam here, a grisly death," he says.

"Told you," Carrie is compelled to say by reason of her gender when Dick affirms that he isn't about to cuff Adam for any reason. Instead she smiles quietly, and allows the three to talk. "At least... at least let him know that the Narrows are a bad section of town? I'm serious when I say that. I know--I grew up there." It was true. Completely, honest, one hundred percent true.

Unfortunately it wasn't part of her public history here. It's a small slip that she doesn't go into detail on as she instead sits back to reach for her soda taking a sip as she considers what to say if anything else.

"I get it, it's a bad section of town." Adam shrugs slightly. "Like I said, mob goons and street thugs don't scare me. I'll handle it." He drinks his soda, the refills the cup.

Dick nods to Damian, "I can certainly look into it, the minute they do something wrong in Haven they will be in cuffs." He tries to smile but fails, "But yeah, Adam, I'd suggest not getting involved in it, 'mob goons and street thugs,' can be a rather tough bunch. I'll do what I can, as long as you promise not to get involved in this mess. The last thing you need is to get entangled."

"You're from the other world, so maybe you don't know what sort of town Gotham is, but we've got worse than mob goons and street thugs," he grabs his phone off the table and pulls up a website on his phone. One of those somewhat psychotic fan sites for the enemies of the Batman, this one was called Bat-Foes.com, he slaps the phone down on the table in front of Adam. "See these nut jobs? They're out there too, so, it's more than you can deal with, so relax and let the pros handle it okay?" he says.

Then calming down a little bit he nods to Dick. "Thanks," he adds as he settles back in his seat.

Carrie purses her lips together as the other two also try to assure him of how dangerous it was. The cellphone with the website causes an arch of an eyebrow as she hadn't known of that site. It was something she'd have to look up. Later. "I know what it's like to be frustrated and want to do something yourself. So I can't really stop you. Just... Yeah." Looking quickly between Dick and Damian she focuses her attention back on Adam as she leans forward on the table. Since he'd scooted over to make room for Dick he was now sitting directly across from her. "If you're going to do something just take a quick look and nothing more. Just in and out. You know how I mean? Just go inside, and pull out before anything gets messy." Carrie then leans back and takes another bite of one of those fried pickles, dipping it into the ranch sauce. Mmmm.

Adam skims the website, his eyebrows lifting. "Whoa. Okay. Uh, Crazy, crazy, ...ooh, who's the red-head, she's pretty hot, actually?" he flips over a picture of Poison Ivy. "Mmkay... crazy, crazy, crazy... really, a /clown/?... wow, seriously he needs a new costume... crazy... what happened to dude's /face/? It's half melted... crazy... annnnnd... what the shit is that, a walking blob of clay?"

He looks up at Damian. "It's like someone dumped the nearest nuthouse out onto your streets. Seriously, man." Carrie's wordplay totally flies over his head though, as he's looking through the site. "Yeah, sure thing, in and out, no mess."

Dick does not look amused at Damian passing the phone over and the discussion with regards to outright trespassing, not that he has ever trespassed, well, not as Dick Grayson. "I would not suggest that, the last thing you need is to be arrested, then you get fun legal troubles on top of your current ones." He frowns and pulls his phone from his pocket as it vibrates. Checking the number he scowls, "One sec, gotta take this." He rises and steps over to take the call.

Damian spares a look at the screen. "Engh, out of date, the red-head is apparently reformed," oops, little slip there. Or maybe he's just a rich, bored, supervillian fanboy. The Joker, despite how he's dismissed by Adam, draws a little flinch from Damian, and he frowns "Puns aside he's no joke," he mumurs before he just stops commenting and nods away at the rest of his observations. "So, yeah, if you're going do this, in and out. You don't want the cops or Batman catching you."

When Dick gets up to answer the phone he snorts and looks to Carrie "Kory or Barbara?" he wonders aloud.

"That's kind of exactly what happened. Arkham Asylum is near here and the Joker and the others broke out. They've gone to ground in the rougher parts of the city. The old town where it divides into levels." Carrie only offers a small shrug toward him. When Dick walks off to answer the phone she continues. "We're on an island. After enough issues, enough crowding, they just started building up and ontop of other old buildings. It's like those old subway tunnels in New York. People can hide down there for years."

At Damian's question she glances toward him with a grin. "Barbara. It's Christmas." She doesn't say anything about Kory but likely she would want to gift give him later if she recalled the festive holiday at all. Which she likely would.

The pizza arrives, and for the moment, Adam is content to eat in silence. He really doesn't want to get these guys involved. They seem like fairly nice friends of Julian's-- other rich kids like him, but probably not like him, since they aren't mutants. He sighs, grabbing a slice and chewing thoughtfully.

"In and out. And yeah, not getting caught by crazy clowns, Batmans, or..." he shrugs, "whatever."

"Yes, forethought was not Solomon Wayne's forte it seems when he started designing Gotham," Damian observers dryly as he helps himself to a piece of pizza trying it tentatively at first before he mms, and takes a bigger bite. "Not bad for a shameless gimmick," he admits to Carrie.

Adam gets a more serious, considering look. "Good. When do you plan to go and inspect the clinic?"

"Barbara, hrm, okay add her to the list of people I need to buy something for," Damian says after a second of thought.

"I wouldn't feed you something bad," Carrie assures as she pulls a slice off herself onto her own private plate so that she ensures not to drip over her clothes. Folding the slice in half she takes a quick bite chewing on it even as she nods. "Mm, I got her some ..." Pausing she swallows. "... Clothes." Yes, clothes, that works. Turning her thoughts away from gifts she risks a glance after Dick to ensure he was out of hearing range before looking back to Adam. "We could come with and give a lookout or something." Or at least offer one.

"This afternoon, I was thinking. It's Christmas, so if anything's gonna be closed, today is it." Adam nods. "Was planning on going straight after lunch." He looks at Carrie. "...no offense, but if it's as dangerous as you're saying, I don't want you guys to risk yourselves on my account."

Damian nods. "We're used to trouble, also, we have Christmas dinner this evening, and I don't want to be in that part of town at night, so, c'mon, we're going with you to watch your back, or we're coming down there tomorrow to pick up your corpse." Yes, Damian's tune may have changed a bit, but there's now the chance this can lead to him punching something, and it was past time he put his intensified training to the test.

Carrie smiles with bemusement at Adam's apparent concern. "I know the area, you don't," she points out only to take a breath and let it out slowly. "Besides, it can't be half as bad as getting caught by those gunmen in the mall in New York. I survived that!" A weak laugh is given as if she were still a bit shaken up by it.

"...Right." Adam finishes his first slice of pizza, grabbing a second. "Used to trouble?" He snorts. "It's not like a few boys from what, lacrosse camp or whatever, want to teach you a lesson. The streets are a harder place." Of course, Adam has no idea who he's talking to-- but if Damian was the average teenage rich kid, it would make sense. "I've been on them for years. It's not a pretty place-- and yeah, Gotham sounds pretty crazy, but New York isn't exactly peaches and sunshine."

There is something like a gleam of a challenge in Damian's eye before realization hits and he backs down with gritted teeth. The Damian Wayne he was pretending to be never grew up in Madripoor, Karachi, Macau and a dozen other hives of scum and villainy, that Damian Wayne had no background, but whatever it was supposed to be, it was privileged. So he settles for biting out the question "What the hell is lacrosse?" before he adds. "And we're going or you're not."

Carrie drops her hand down beneath the table to lightly pat Damian's knee in a consoling manner. She knew how hard it was--it was difficult for her, too. The hand pulls away after a moment and she tips her head toward Adam considering. "Fine. Suit yourself then."

Adam sighs. He's not stupid. "...if I say no, you guys are either gonna follow me anyway, or stick the cops on me, right?"

"Yes," Damian says. "So, can we put away this gimmicky, if remarkably good pizza, and get on with things? We do have something of a schedule to keep."

Dick returns, and sighs, "Accountant was trying to be annoying, he had lost some paperwork, fortunately he found it... eventually." The off-duty cop is less than pleased about that, though he brightens when he sees pizza, of which he grabs a slice. "Everything all right?" He notices the tension.

"Usually how it goes. He's stubborn," Carrie states with a tip of her head toward Damian blaming it entirely on him, yep. When Dick returns she grins toward him giving a shake of her head. "It's fine. Just working things out."

"Absolutely," Adam says with a forced smile. "Couldn't be better." He finishes his second slice of pizza and his soda, leaning against his backpack.

"Indeed," Damian nods along with the others. "We're going to take Adam some place he can stay, I think, then we'll come back to the house for the rest of Christmas," he lies unblinkingly to Dick. "If that's alright?" Dick frowns, "All right, but if you need anything, call. Last thing I need is for you three to get into any trouble." He finishes off a slice of pizza and pulls some cash from his wallet, a $20 to go towards the cost, "You kids be careful. Adam, sorry we couldn't meet on better terms, but I hope things look up and I'll see what I can find." With that, Dick departs.

=
==

The laboratory seems abandoned. The windows are boarded over, the few bits of glass than can be seen are broken. There is a realtor's 'For Sale' sign out in front of the old Genlab's, but like the building itself, it shows disrepair and more than a little graffiti.

The concrete in the parking lot that wraps the front and one side of the building is broken in places, with bits of dying foliage peeking up here and there. The building is standing alone on its own lot, but the buildings to either side are equally run-down.

Of course, any good thief-- or looter, or heroic tamperer, whatever you may fancy yourself-- will do a once over of the entire building before attempting to break and enter, and Adam is no exception. A quick but somewhat thorough walkabout of the building shows three areas of ingress-- the graffitied plexiglass front door, which is guarded only by a realtor's lockbox and reveals a dirty waiting area with three lines of uncomfortable plastic chairs and a receptionist's window, as well as two plain wooded doors leading to the back; the side door, much the same, which leads into the side parking lot and the same waiting area; and the back door, which is solid, probably painted steel, and boarded over. There are windows, of course, but they are all all also boarded over.

In the back of the building is an alleyway filled with the stench of rot, the walls of the buildings covered in graffiti. Rats scurry away from the feet of the teenage urban explorers as they move through the area.

Any back rooms beyond the waiting area are difficult, if not impossible to see from the doors, but given the size and layout of the building, and, of course, it's prior use, at least two or three rooms have to be available.

Even in an area like this, where police intervention is not very likely, Adam isn't stupid enough to break in through the front door, nor hang about it too long. He leans next to the boarded up back door-- whether they opt to go in here, or through the side door, this is a better spot for him to prepare for whatever's inside.

He flips open his backpack, sliding the sleeves of his trenchcoat back and sliding on a pair of stretchy sleeves that function as bandoleers of small crossbow bolts-- a dozen each on an arm. He pulls out a modified hand crossbow, checks it over quickly, and loads it, sliding the loop at the butt around his wrist and then letting it dangle in such a way he can flip it up into his hand if needed. He pulls a small tube of almost clear blue gel out and flips the cap open. The slight scent of mint wafts from it, and he applies a touch of it under his nose before offering it to the other two.

Before they left the pizza place, Damian had gone to the bathroom to text Dick with what was really going on. < Going to the old clinic at Darius and Vine in the East End, might need costumed back up. D > Then his narcing complete he joins the others in the car and heads down to the clinic.

When Adam scouts, Damian watches him, and the building, so far it actually looks abandoned, maybe the Scarecrow had moved on. That thought had him smiling disappointedly, it would have been nice to give his father one of his Rogues for Christmas. The crossbow earns a look however, and it's a curious one. "What are you the Purple Arrow?" he quips at the rig sceptically. "Besides a crossbow won't be much good at close quarters," he says flinching almost as soon as he says it.

Carrie turn alert as soon as they hit this part of town. She parks a bit away so that her car isn't an immediate target and leads the way through an alley or two to the clinic. As she said--She knew the layout of the city. Now that they were here she watches, listens, waits. The cheery talkative Carrie that had been at the pizza place has just fallen quiet. When the mint gel is offered she lifts a hand to wave it off with a firm shake of her head. "No... It stinks but I'd rather know beforehand if we're walking into something like a gas filled room." Purple Arrow does gain a small little grin from her though. Reaching into a pocket of her jacket she pulls out a pair of near skin-tight leather gloves flexing her fingers a time or two to get them to fit well. Her head tips up to stare at the rooftops a moment before she nods. "Ready when you guys are."

Adam snorts. "The 'Purple Arrow'? Really? That's an incredibly lame name." He doesn't offer the one he'd taken for himself, though he runs a hand through his hair, almost wishing he had a cowl or something. If there /were/ someone who might recognize him, he'd rather they didn't.

Eh. Couldn't be helped. "Normally, I'd agree," he says, "but this one's special. Comparing this to a regular crossbow is like... I dunno, a pistol to a rifle." He pats his hand crossbow with a grin. "Probably won't need it, but I feel better knowing I can grab it... you know, in case." His voice remains low in volume-- he's not trying to draw any attention. "So, this door or the side?" He doesn't bother asking if the other two have lockpicks. "I vote for the side, I'm pretty sure I can pop the realtor's box and get the key. I'm not as confident in my door-breaking skills." Nor would he really /want/ to break anything if he didn't have to.

Damian refuses the gel as well with a slight shake of his head. When the question of which door is brought up he says "Side," decisively. "Less visible." Not that he's worried about the cops, more like criminals looking to score their score, well if they were going to have one. He glances Carrie's way for confirmation.

Carrie glances between the two a moment as they debate on which door to use. "Side," she agrees only to pull out her car keys again. The keychain is what she goes for though as she wiggles the little bit of pressed leather a moment to pull out what looks like a key with no teeth. "I can get us in. Don't you /ever/ tell about this, Damian," she warns with a hiss as if actually concerned about some parental figure or another might ground her for this. Without waiting for the boys she moves around to the side door sticking as much to the shadows as she can. As she does so her hand slides back to pull the hood of her jacket up helping to hide her a bit, at least. Making it to the door she crouches down to slide the key into the lock with one hand. Reaching down she grabs a bit of broken brick in her other hand hefting it up. With a strong whack she smacks the butt of the key while it's in the lock. Once. Twice... she's about to do it a third time when there's a satisfying click. The rock is dropped and she twists the knob which moves freely and she takes the key out to slide back into it's hiding spot again. "Bump key," she whispers to the two in explanation.

Dick doesn't notice the the text until he gets back to the manor, but he responds, 

While others would normally have a fairly decent-length drive from the manor to the clinic, Nightwing does not, using his various resources to make good time. He parks a few block away, his vehicle disguised as a taxi. The former acrobat carefully navigates a fire escape up to the roof of one of the buildings, and jumping from roof to roof until he is on the building closest to the clinic, the parking lot between them allowing Nightwing to get a good look at the kids, though he tries to keep a low profile and an eye on the trio.

Adam shrugs, tossing the gel back into his backpack and shrugging the pack back on his shoulders. "Abandoned buildings tend to have dead things in them-- rats, dogs, birds. The stench can be a problem if you're not accustomed," he warns lightly. And Carrie gets the door open for them, and he grins, nodding slightly. "Niiiice. Need to get me one of those."

He moves to the door. "I'll go in first, then," he says chivalrously, slipping the door open and stepping inside.

The waiting room is just as horrifically abandoned as it seemed from the outside. The only light comes through the windows between the boards, dust motes, disturbed by his steps, dancing in the rays. There's a strangly antiseptic smell to the place, one Adam can't smell with the mint under his nose. He moves aside though, allowing the other two to join him.

Damian takes a moment to breathe before he enters the clinic. It clears his heads and it lets him experience the clinic as it comes, so he can be aware of his surroundings. Which is pretty zen for the little Murder Bat, but he is somewhat good at this. When he steps inside and that hospital smell hits him he stops just inside the door. "Not abandoned," he reasons immediately, as his hand slides into a pocket of his jacket for the little bundle of throwing darts he had stashed there. He takes a few steps out from the door giving Carrie room to enter, and so he's covering the group's flank from attack.

"No, it's not. Not at all." Carrie lets the two enter first before glancing toward the rooftops again looking for the figure which would be keeping an eye on them no doubt. Lifting her hand she holds up her cellphone a moment, shining the light of the streetlamps off of it. Just before she thumbs open the screen to ring it through to Dick, or rather Nightwing's phone. It's left on as she slides it back into her pocket so that he has an open line to hear what's going on. Then she follows.

"Smells like a hospital in here," she complains as she lifts her hand to cover her mouth and nose. The door is shut carefully behind her left just a crack open so that it would appear shut from the street. It wasn't really though. "Anyone got a flashlight?"

Adam rubs the mint gel out from his nose, since it's obvious the other two aren't gagging. He gazes levelly around the room, eyes narrowing some, then heads towards the nearest door to the back, by the open receptionist's window. As he passes the window, he looks over into the desk area, pulling out his cell phone to use as a light, not expecting much-- but he freezes.

He doesn't speak, but gestures the other two over, his eyes focused on something on the desk. That something being a gun-- a strange gun, identical to the one he had let Clint have. It was larger than your average pistol, more the size of a kid's Nerf gun. It almost seemed like a toy, in fact, at first glance-- the material was a shiny, plastic-like substance, and it was rounded and almost bubble-like.

"That's it. I gotta find out what kind of ammo it uses," Adam says quietly when the other two move up to see.

Damian reaches out to touch the gun. "I've seen one on TV," he says. "They fire foam darts," he says before moving past the others to probe a bit deeper into the clinic. He goes quiet, just listening for the little sounds that would give away anyone lurking in the shadows.

Nightwing watches patiently as the three enter. He frowns as his phone buzzes, the signal to pay attention to it given by the waving of the phone in the light. It is soon open, and a small earbud being used to listen to the conversation, but the mention of ammo sets Nightwing's teeth on edge, as that /never/ sounds good to a man who hates guns, though he is soon confused by the mention of foam darts. Looking about, Nightwing stays perched for a moment, not wanting to give away his position just yet.

Carrie follows into the room when the 'gun' is pointed out with a small frown at the fact that... "It's just laying there... I don't think you should touch it, Adam. Who would leave some sci-fi looking gun laying around?" Approaching closer she keeps her distance but tries to get a better view of the gun as well. "I'm not sure that fires any projectile. Maybe chemicals or something." She hopes not. She really hopes not. Just as she's about to say something more she realizes Damian has started to go further. "Hey let's stick together."

"Ha," Adam says under his breath. "No foam darts, it's got some sort of chamber inside. I found one at the other lab where I got this address." See Damian heading for the door, he shrugs, and agilely hops up into the window, then lightly drops to the floor beside the desk.

In retrospect, probably not the brightest idea, but he's pretty sure there's no one there. If there was, wouldn't they have heard the door? It's not like there's anything lying in wait.

Adam scoops up the gun, though, running his thumb over it, feeling for the latch to open the inner chamber-- if it's anything like the other, which it is. The gun pops open just like the other one. It's dark in the room, save for the little bit of light his cellphone gives off.

"Don't worry, Care-Bear," he says quietly. "I don't think there's anyone here right now." He sinks into the chair, reaching for one of the drawers in the desk to start rifling through it for ammunition-- to figure out just what in the hell this thing's purpose is.

"tt. Would you both shut up a minute?" Damian asks holding up a hand and listening some more. Assuming he hears nothing he tries the door. It opens to the same room Adam is in, Damian doesn't enter but he does look back over his shoulder at Carrie. "Well then, let's stick together," he says inviting her inside. "Though I don't hear anything in the building, I think we're alone."

Carrie closes her eyes a moment resisting the urge to sigh. Damian had gone exploring and Adam was busy with the search for ammo so she reaches down to flick on her bluetooth for the phone. The earpeice is slid on and she clears her throat some. "As long as we can hear each other," she says partially for Dick's benefit as well as the other two. "Still don't like this, it's... Too easy. In video games this is where a trap is set."

Adam's rooting is fruitful, as he finds a strange set of soft ampoules the same size as the chamber-- three of them, to be precise, and a handful of strange, bullet shaped clear bits of plastic filled with what looks like tiny metal files. He slings his bag off one shoulder, pops two of the ampoules and handful of the plastic bullets into his bag to look at later, and the third into the gun. He clicks the latch shut on it, and a second chamber near the barrel pops open.

"That's weird," he comments. The second chamber looks about the right size for the plastic bullet, though, so he thumbs it in. The chamber closes, and a small whirrrrrrrrr comes from the gun.

"...uh, I didn't mean to turn it on."

Damian doesn't go further of the door of the office, he may be a difficult little shit socially, but he's learned his lesson about following the leader, in this case Carrie, when out in the field. However he doesn't necessarily have to be nice about things, and so he arches an eyebrow about the blue tooth headset, and as he leans against the door frame he takes out his phone and texts < Was the bat signal broken? > to her with a faint smirk.

The noises from the gun though, that gets Damian to focus, and he steps inside the room. "Put that down, you don't want that going off," he says images of clouds of fear toxin filling his head.

"Don't load it!" Carrie blurts out as soon as she realizes what had been done. Without thinking she strides across the room intent on grabbing Adam by the wrist with the suggestion of, "Put it down. Let's go look around more. We can get this on the way out." If it were still here at the time and not picked up by someone. The text is ignored though she shoots Damian a look. Rather than wait for anything else to happen she clears her throat recalling herself. "Come on, I don't want to have to be in here any longer than we have to. I can open some more doors and we can look further in the labs."

"Oh dear me, yes," a calm, even, male voice comes from the darkness towards the back of the room. Though the speaker can't be seen, the voice comes from higher up-- he's tall, whoever he is. "Put it down, child, wouldn't want to see you frightened of a little gun." A light chuckle. "Now what have we here? A couple of teenagers on a dare, is it? You should know it's not kind to wake a doctor from his nap."

Adam's back is to the sound of the voice, but his eyes widen, the expression fully visible to Damian and Carrie in the light of Adam's cell phone. He mouths a couple of four-letter words, still holding the whirring gun.

Nightwing chuckles very quietly as Carrie speaks, but the sound of Adam saying "...uh, I didn't mean to turn it on." is enough to cause Nightwing even more concern, considering what they have been saying. Carrie's comment about not loading the thing is bothersome, but what really gets Nightwing to move from his perch is the new voice. Quickly finding a way down from the building, Nightwing attaches the phone to his belt and draws an eskrima stick into his left hand while keeping his right open, should he need to throw a wingding. Soon enough, he is charging across the parking lot for the previously locked door.

Damian freezes, he hasn't heard Scarecrow's voice before but it doesn't take a genius to guess who this is. The boy's hand moves quickly and a little dart flits through the air towards the voice. Damian was taught to fight blind so throwing from the hip comes second nature to him. "Adam, get out of here!" he shouts in warning, meaning the room the two are in.

There is a thud from where Damian's dart made an impact with something, though the sound indicates less meaty, human impact and more the sound of drywall. A second whirring sound starts up from the darkness.

"Oh no, leaving... is /not/ the prescription I had in mind. You see, I had been /hoping/ for someone to test my newest toys on, and providence provides me with you three. I would not be so rude as to..."

The lights flicker on, strobing as the overheads try and remember how to work correctly. Or perhaps they are working as intended-- strobing lights are far worse than darkness. "...ignore such a gift." A handsome young man in a somewhat rumpled suit smiles in the flickering light. He raises a gun identical to the one in Adam's hand.

"Now, who volunteers to go first?"

Adam still has his version of the gun. He looks down at the whirring item in his hands, and then to Carrie and Damian-- he couldn't risk them getting hurt. Of course he has no idea who they are-- if he did, he wouldn't do the stupid thing he does next.

"Bite me," he says, kicking the desk so the chair he's in spins around quickly. He lifts the gun in his hands and aims at the good doctor, pulling the trigger. "Get out, you two! I've got this!"

Damian growls "Out!" to Adam, then he's moving across the office, his foot moving to kick the gun. He sees Adam raise his and curses something foul and Arabic, before he just lets his bottom foot slide out from under him to drop to the floor.

Carrie stiffens at the sound of the voice. Slowly her head lifts to gaze past Adam toward the figure that still stood cloaked in darkness. Out of all of them she was positioned best for the first look at the infamous Doctor Crane and her eyes widen beneath the hood of her jacket. Not in fear though. Her eyes widened to better take in the dim light seeking out his features, stance, whether he was... Dr. Crane or... the other one. Damian throws his dart and she moves away from Adam in favor of heading calmly for the wall while her hand lifts to rub over her eyes just before the lights come on.

The wall was there. The man was there. The door was there, and the windowed front there. Carrie takes a deep breath and drops her hand away.

"Boys are so impatient."

There's no fear to her voice, no quiver of concern or shriek of girlish terror. Just a calm, level, perhaps even amused tone as she grins and suddenly takes off running at the wall. Momentum carries her through the sure-footed parkour move as she tucks, and flips, as the now masked if severely under-dressed Red Robin sends her feet slamming heels-first toward the good ole doc in spite of the danger of the guns.

"He uses gas get out--!" The snap comes too late perhaps as Adam has decided to do exactly what she was worried about as she flies over the now-crouched Damian's head.

The 'hat' on the doctor's head is quickly pulled down-- not a hat at all, it seems, but what looks like a poorly-stitched burlap sack with eyeholes cut out and a raggedly stitched mouth.

A wave of... something almost liquid, a wobbly bullet of red streaked with black flies from the barrel of the strange gun, and slams into the doctor as the mask gets pulled down over his face. As it hits, it explodes into a cloud of gas hovering around the man-- and the girl flying at him. Doctor Crane moves, almost flailing, except there is a strange grace to it-- almost dodging the kick. Almost. Carrie-- no, Red Robin-- clips him as she flies through the cloud of fear gas mixed with an aerosal form of newt.

Nightwing hustles into the building, roaring at the three as he enters the building, "GET OUT!" Crossing the first room he pulls out his other stick, not wanting to deal with ranged combat in such tight quarters. He then enters the room with the strobing lights and Carrie's scream, Nightwing begins running at the Scarecrow, but not before seeing the cloud, and seeing the man with his infamous mask on. Taking a deep breath before reaching the cloud, Nightwing swings one of the sticks down at Scarecrow's right arm, the other at his left knee in quick succession.

Damian sees the gas cloud and shouts "Carrie!" but it's too late she's hitting Crane and passing through the gas cloud. The next moment Nightwing is there his fighting sticks blurring to hit Crane as well. Damian takes a deep suck of air, and pulls up the collar of his sweat shirt as he moves to grab Carrie and get her out of her before the drug kicks in.

Red Robin would normally have her kit on her with all of her gadgets, tricks, and necessary items--Like the pocket gas mask that would have come quite in handy for such a moment. With the cloud of gas filling the air she resists the urge to breath in after her last cry. Breath out, breath out, breath out. The impact with Crane is satisfactory even if it's just a winging of him. It's when she comes slamming down after into a crouch with one hand on the ground for balance that she's faced with her lungs burning with need for air. Her eyes were stinging and watering already just a bit and she lifts her sleeve to cover her mouth. It was too late though--The fog of gas was too thick and she had to--

The soft gasp of drawn air is her downfall. She knew it. She KNEW it and her eyes snap toward Damian looking at him a moment. Fight it fight it FIGHT IT. "OUT!" The word is bellowed as she rises up on wobbly legs fixing her gaze on Crane. If she just focused on HIM she could ... Just him. He was the one. He was the cause. He was the issue. He was the enemy. He was the cause of her fear.

He was moving away as she finds hreself yanked by Damian causing her to stumble out of the cloud of gas after him while Nightwing began his barrage on Scarecrow.

Well, /this/ is interesting. Nightwing out of nowhere. Carrie in Red Robin's mask. Damian-- whoa, for a spoiled rich kid, he can move.

Adam drops the gun on the chair as he rises, flipping his crossbow up into his hand and aiming for the-- whoa, what the hell? That mask is super creepy. But Nightwing is in the way, and he doesn't have a clear shot.

Scarecrow dances, long limbs moving fluidly, dodging the first of Nightwing's blows, only barely catching the second, though on his thigh rather than his knee. He laughs, and in the flickering light...

Well.

He shoots his gun in the direction of Damian and Red Robin, not a very carefully aimed shot, but where-ever the 'bullet' hits, a cloud will form. It doesn't have to be entirely accurate.

Damian curses as Carrie stumbles and he's got his arms wrapped around her from behind when Crane shoots at them. There's a moment where the correct tactical answer, his Mother's answer flashes through his mind, use the infected person as a shield. It lasts a second before the stupid side takes over and he moves his back in the way of the shot letting his jacket take it before he drags Carrie fast across the floor away from the rapidly forming cloud, his mouth clamped shut, his breath held deep in his lungs.

Nightwing can't hold his breath much longer. His mask protects his eyes, but his nose is going to give way soon enough. As soon as Damian pulls Carrie out of the fray, Nightwing is soon going after them, though keeping an eye on the creepy villain. The explosion of the ammunition brings a scowl to Nightwing's face as he tries to make it to the two, yelling, "GET OUT, NOW" not wanting to fight the Scarecrow on his own turf, let alone with three others, one of which he had just met earlier.

As Nightwing moves out of the way, it leaves the Scarecrow open, but the flickering-- Adam squints, holding his crossbow up, correcting for the gas.

"And now for you," Scarecrow says, aiming his own gun back at Adam.

Adam's finger begins to pull on the trigger, his crossbow bolt poised to take the man in the throat, but Clint's voice echoes in his head: 'Avengers don't kill.'

Two triggers pull at the same time, but Adam's weapon dips, aiming for the doctor's knee.

Carrie tucks her arms down close to her chest though she recovers from the stumble induced by both the surprise of having her concentration broken, and by the strobing effects of the damn lights. Breathing hard she squeezes her eyes shut not wanting to see or be disoriented further and trusting Damian to lead them--But then he takes a shot as another burst of gas is released. Without thinking of it she reaches for Damian's shirt front grabbing at him, groping down along his side until she finds one of his hidden knives. It's all she needs. Throwing her arm back the knife is flung up at the light in an attempt to get rid of that headache inducing, dizzying, disorientating light. It's one of the few rational thoughts she has right now other than listening to Nightwing's encouragement to get out. "Out... now out..."

Crane twists out of the way-- of a throat-aimed bolt, the last-moment drop to a non-lethal area took him off-guard, and two cracks are heard at the same time-- one of the bolt hitting Crane just above the kneecap, the other of the gas bullet hitting Adam's chest.

He's not entirely stupid-- the gas is bad news-- but he's not trained for this, either. The impact causes him to gasp, breathing in the fear gas. His eyes widen... the man in front of him becoming a monster-- for that matter, the others, too. Nightwing grows fangs, Red Robin's eyes grow red as bat wings and horns sprout form her body, Damian becomes clawed. And Scarecrow... tears of bubbling pitch stream down his face, his dark work beginning... one of his six mouths opens, and he sings the song that will end the Earth.

Adam drops to his knees, hands shaking as he fumbles to try and reload his crossbow.

Damian looks down at Carrie's hand when she starts feeling him up, and actually feels a touch relieved when it's to get a knife. /That/ he understands. Then it's time to go, what with Crane hit being hit with one of Adam's bolts. He grabs Carrie around the middle and hauls her into a fireman's carry and starts heading for the door. "Adam, come on," he shouts and jerks his head at Nightwing to encourage him to grab Adam if the purple haired goth doesn't move his ass.

Nightwing is soon hit with the fear gas as he breathes in after speaking. Knowing full well that this toxin would not end well for him, he sticks the sticks into his belt and tries to gesture to Adam, "Come on, kid, get out of here!" Nightwing tries to hurry towards the door, trying to get somewhere safe before the toxin overrides his will, which it is beginning to do.

The monsters are snarling at him, flying past him with clawed, bat-like demon wings. Adam twitches, unable to keep ahold of his crossbow, and it tumbles from his hand, held on by the loop-- there. Another gun, right beside him, so perfect, made for fighting the darkness. His hands close around it, shaking, and he rises to his feet, hopping onto the desk and out through the reception window, firing behind him at the monster before he staggers out into the scorching radiation outside.

The world was spinning for Carrie. Spinning and lurching and she just squeezes her eyes shut. Better than the horrors. Better than the visions she knew would twist in her mind if she had them open. Her arm grips around Damian tightly as he leads her out. Tucking her head against his shoulder she cries out when the shivers start and she breaks into a cold sweat. No no no not yet not yet not yet... "Outout outoutoutout," it's become her mantra.

Damian is trying to get out, but Adam bursts free of the office beside him firing back at them so he is forced to duck down taking Carrie with him. They end up tangled on the floor while Adam's shots sail over them. "This is getting stupid," Damian growls. "We're better than this," he reaches into a pocket and takes out a dart he whips it at Adam. If it hits, and there's not some horrible drug conflict, he'll go down asleep in a about 20 seconds. Then he tries to get Carrie up and out of there. "C'mon," he says trying to grab her around the middle again. "We're going." A glance is cast behind him looking for Crane or Nightwing.

Nightwing scowls as he begins to try and rationalize his situation, made extremely difficult this time. His willpower is keeping it at bay, but he is able to push into the first room, watching the new kid shoot the strange gun. Seeing Damian toss a dart at Adam, and the fact that Adam had just shot again towards the Scarecrow, Nightwin runs over to Adam.

The sting. It bites him, something sharp and terrible. Adam reaches around, trying to find the invisible creature that bit him.

And then his eyes roll up into his head, and he takes one more step before collapsing into a boneless puddle from the sleeping poison on Damian's dart.

The NOISE... Carrie's eyes snap open watching the world fall away before her eyes. Damian near her, dark and dangerous with his darts. Adam falling... dying? And Nightwing who really was a frightening visage in his gear when twisted and morphed into the bats that she had heard fluttering around in the dark of the batcave so many times before. Stumbling out into the fresh, clean air it would seem a releif if not for the fact that she was running from the demons in her head.

Her head snaps back with a scream as she tries to wriggle away from Damian in favor of clutching her head. "Not real NOT REAL!"

Damian grabs Carrie's arms. "Damn it, you're supposed to be the reliable one!" he snaps up at her. He frowns deeply then, reaches into his pocket for more darts, except with the stumbling he dropped them. No easy out this time. He grabs her hands and starts leading her to the car. "Carrie, Carrie, listen, you need to get into the car, it will protect you, please, just get in," he grabs the keys from her pocket and unlocks the doors. "Nightwing!" he shouts over the click of the locks. "Are you okay? We need to go now, get in, I'll drive us."

Without saying a word, Nightwing picks up Adam, and begins to carry him out of the building. Turning to Damian, he nods and is able to shift Adam over his shoulder so that he can open one of the back doors, soon setting the sleeping boy inside on the seat. Nightwing sighs and says to Damian, "I'll be fine, just get out of here, be safe, avoid the main roads, last thing you need are cops getting involved." He then looks to Carrie, watching to see how she reacts.

Rational one? Right. Carrie squeezes her eyes shut tightly sucking in deep breath after deep breath, forcing them to come slower. Forcing herself to calm. When Damian takes the keys she seems rather calm. Mostly. Her hands slap down on his shoulders as she stands there with head ducked forward a moment. "Hit me," she states while gripping hold of him tight. Something to focus on besides what was going through her mind. That's what she needed.

Damian nods to Nightwing. "Grab the gun, Father will want to look at it," he says nodding to the weapon laying in the snow. Then Carrie is there clamping down hard on his shoulders and demanding he hit her. Damian blinks, looking up at her, but he can see she's serious and at least somewhat rational and fighting the toxin. He reaches back and slaps her across the face, /hard/. He flinches once when he hits her and again when he catches himself flinching. He was supposed to be the one who did what needed to be done. He'd gone soft.

He grabs Carrie's chin and looks up into her face. "Fight," he orders her. "And don't make me do that again," he says before pushing her towards the car.

Nightwing frowns as Damian hits Carrie, but understands it had to be done, "You get them to safety, all right? I'll do what I can to keep attention off of you." Nightwing unclips his phone and dials Damian's number, "Do not let this connection die, you stay in contact, if it drops, call back. I want to know where you are at all times, and will try to keep things from beinga problem as you go."

"Mmf!" Carrie's head jerks to the side as the impact comes, hard. Not as hard as it could have been likely but hard enough. Dropping her hands away from his shoulder she's about to stand. Until he grabs her face demanding she fight. Blinking several times her eyes slip in and out of focus until they finally do focus. "Fighting," she mutters as she stands and turns to get into the car clambering over the driver seat into the passenger. Right now she couldn't drive. Damian knew how to. Curling up into the seat she leans her head against the cool glass of the window staring off into space, but far more in control than she was before.

When Carrie is safely in the car Damian answers his phone and gets the call going. "Done," he says to Nightwing without his usual level of snark and resistance. This is serious. He slides across the hood of the car Hollywood style to get to the driver's side and rolls down the widow, frowning at Nightwing. "It goes both ways, Nightwing," he says remember to still use code names even if Adam is drooling in the backseat. "Get back to the house," he says before the expression of sympathy becomes entirely too much and he puts the car into gear before he burns out, or well skids up snow, and heads back to the manor. Father and Alfred would have what they need to treat the toxin and he didn't have the patience for a hospital.

Nightwing nods, "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." With that, and the physical ability gained from years of training, Nightwing is off running to where his own car, disguised as a taxi, is hidden. Getting into the car, he fires it up and turns to phone to speaker, "All right, coming your way, where are you taking the one kid?"

Great. Damian was in charge somehow. "The manor," he says putting his phone on speaker. He was already breaking enough driving laws as it was. "I read Crane's file, we have an anti-toxin for what he uses, less time than going to a hospital and having them fumble around stupidly trying to find one," he says. "We can put him in a guest room, dose him, then let him sleep, you were the one who wanted me to spend time with other 'kids'," he quips as he drives them home. "Also, just think you get to watch Bruce bat frown at me all through dinner," he says with a small smile before he focuses on driving on home.