Kieran barely had time to finish the gesture before Batman's hand shot out and seized him firmly by the collar. The fabric tightened instantly as Kieran was yanked forward, his boots scraping slightly against the wet pavement before he was pulled in close, close enough to feel the sheer, coiled strength behind the grip.
The alley seemed to shrink around them as the tension spiked.
Dre froze where he stood, uncertain and on edge, while the frozen Talons remained in place like silent, watching statues.
Batman leaned in, his voice low, controlled, and edged with something far darker than simple anger.
"We need to talk."
Kieran did not resist or tense under the hold. If anything, he leaned into it slightly, his smile still bright and his eyes sharp with interest rather than fear.
"I think you're right," he replied easily.
His gaze flicked briefly to the side, taking in the alley, the immobilized assassins, and the distant echo of sirens beginning to creep into the night, before returning to Batman.
"Though," he added in a light, almost conversational tone, "perhaps not here?"
There was a brief pause as rain dripped steadily from the edges of Batman's cowl.
Kieran's smile did not fade.
"If this is going to be a conversation," he continued, his tone just shy of playful, "I would hate for it to be interrupted."
Sirens began to rise in the distance, faint at first but growing steadily louder as they cut through the night. Batman did not move. His grip remained firm, his posture unchanged.
Kieran, however, tilted his head slightly to the side, as if the sound was something pleasant rather than a warning. For a brief moment, he almost looked like he was listening to music instead of approaching police.
"Of course," he said calmly, "if you want to wait for me to be arrested, that is perfectly fine."
He paused, considering it as if it were a genuine option.
"Though, at that point, the Court will almost certainly make another attempt on my life," he continued. "And if they succeed…" He let the thought hang for a second before finishing, "then my people will start moving. Not carefully. Not strategically. Just… violently."
His eyes shifted toward Dre.
"What do you think happens then, Dre?" Kieran asked, his tone light, almost curious. "If I get arrested and then taken out by the Court?"
Dre blinked, as if snapping out of whatever mix of fear and shock had held him in place. His grip on his weapon tightened, and when he spoke, it was immediate and certain.
"We will light this city ablaze."
There was no hesitation in his voice. No room for doubt.
Kieran's smile widened, bright and almost delighted.
"Hardcore, right?"
He looked back at Batman, completely at ease despite the hand still gripping his collar.
"I will tell you what," Kieran continued, his tone turning a touch more reasonable. "Let me leave, reassure my people that I am still alive, and prevent any… overreactions."
He nodded slightly, as if sealing the offer.
"Then meet me on my rooftop."
A small pause followed.
"If you still decide you want to arrest me, or drag me back in chains, I will go with you willingly."
Batman held Kieran's gaze for one final moment before abruptly releasing him and shoving him back. Kieran staggered a step but caught himself easily, his expression never quite losing that composed edge.
A low, familiar engine hum cut through the alley as the Batmobile glided around the corner, its presence almost ghostlike despite its size. It came to a smooth stop nearby.
Batman turned away without another word and moved toward the immobilized Talons. One by one, he hauled the frozen assassins up with efficient, practiced movements and secured them inside the vehicle. Even in their frozen state, there was a sense that they were dangerous, that whatever held them would not last forever.
When he finished, Batman turned back to Kieran.
"Tonight," he said, his voice low and absolute. "On the roof."
He paused, letting the weight of it settle.
"If you are not there…"
He did not finish the sentence.
He did not need to.
The threat lingered in the air, heavy and unmistakable.
Kieran nodded, and for once, the gesture was serious. There was no humor in his expression now, only understanding.
"Of course," he replied.
Before anything else could be said, Dre stepped in, placing a steadying hand on Kieran's shoulder and guiding him away. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the injury in his leg was becoming harder to ignore.
Headlights flashed at the mouth of the alley as one of the escape vehicles Marcy had dispatched pulled up. Doors opened immediately.
Their people rushed forward, moving quickly but carefully as they took Kieran from Dre and began helping him into the car. Their eyes scanned the surroundings constantly, alert for any sign of another attack.
Within seconds, they were moving again.
The ride back was tense, the city blurred past the windows in streaks of light and shadow as the driver pushed the car hard through Gotham's streets.
Dre kept glancing over, his eyes drawn again and again to Kieran's leg. Blood had soaked through the fabric, dark and spreading, though Kieran himself looked far less concerned than he should have.
"Are you okay?" Dre finally asked, his voice lower now, steadier, though the edge of worry was still there.
Kieran didn't look down at the wound. He kept his gaze forward, thoughtful.
"It will be fine," he said calmly. Then his tone shifted, sharpening slightly. "But we need to make sure this situation never happens again."
Dre nodded immediately. "Of course, boss."
Kieran leaned back slightly, his expression turning contemplative as his mind moved past the pain and into opportunity.
"We can use this," he said after a moment.
Dre frowned, glancing at him.
Kieran continued, his voice measured. "Have some people start spreading word that the Court of Owls attempted to assassinate the boss of the underpass."
He lifted a hand slightly, emphasizing the next part.
"Quietly," he added. "No shouting. No theatrics. Push it toward Viktor's territories and the Riley territories."
Dre's eyes sharpened as he began to understand.
"I want the people who were in that meeting to hear it," Kieran continued. "They will do more for us than our own network ever could. They will repeat it, question it, argue about it, and in doing so… spread it."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I want the Court of Owls on the lips of everyone in the underground by next week."
Dre let out a quiet breath and nodded. "I will make the calls."
By the time they reached the hotel, everything was already in motion.
The car didn't stop at the front.
Instead, it slipped around to a more discreet entrance, one known only to a select few. The doors opened before the vehicle had fully stopped, and Kieran's people moved quickly, helping him out and guiding him inside.
They moved through back corridors and secured passages, far from guests and prying eyes, until they reached a private medical room.
The doctor was already waiting.
He took one look at Kieran's leg and immediately got to work, cutting away fabric and assessing the damage with practiced efficiency.
"Thankfully," the doctor said after a moment, "it is not as bad as it could have been."
Kieran gave a small nod, as if that had always been the expected outcome.
"Good," he replied. "Then stitch it up quickly."
The doctor glanced up briefly.
Kieran met his eyes, calm and unwavering.
"I have a meeting to attend."
***
Kieran sat on the rooftop with deliberate ease, a single chair positioned near the edge and a small table beside it holding a bottle of whisky and a glass already half full. The city stretched out beneath him, alive with distant noise and flickering light.
He did not turn when the shadow behind him shifted.
Instead, he watched it stretch across the rooftop, long and unmistakable.
"Batman," he greeted calmly.
He lifted his glass slightly in acknowledgment before gesturing toward the empty chair across from him.
"Take a seat."
Batman moved without a sound, circling around until he stood directly in front of Kieran. He did not sit.
Kieran glanced up at him, then rolled his eyes faintly.
"I hope you do not mind me not getting up," he said, gesturing lazily toward his injured leg. "Doctor's orders."
Batman said nothing.
Kieran let out a quiet sigh as he leaned back in his chair, recognizing the tactic immediately.
"So we are doing the silent intimidation tonight," he murmured.
When Batman still did not respond, Kieran simply nodded to himself and took a slow sip of his whisky, letting the silence stretch instead of fighting it.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The wind moved softly across the rooftop. The city carried on below them.
Finally, Kieran broke the silence.
"How is she doing?" he asked, his tone shifting—quieter now, more genuine.
They both knew who he meant.
"Fine," Batman replied.
Kieran's expression softened into a small, sincere smile.
"I am glad to hear that," he said. "Her powers… they were unpredictable. She could not control them well."
Batman gave a slight nod.
Kieran let out a quiet laugh, something warm and unguarded slipping through.
"I am truly glad," he said. "Thank you… for looking out for Beth."
The moment lingered briefly—
Then broke.
"If you cared about Beth," Batman said, his voice cutting through the air, "or anyone, you would not still be building a criminal organization."
Kieran's smile faded.
"You would not be making deals with the Rileys," Batman continued, "or the Khadym."
Kieran shook his head slowly, almost disappointed.
"Why do you never understand?" he asked. "I know you are smart. Far more intelligent than I am, I would imagine. And yet you refuse to see the truth of Gotham."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his glass against his knee.
"Perhaps it is because you have lived here your entire life," he continued. "You still believe it can become something else. Something better."
He let out a quiet breath.
"It cannot," Kieran said simply. "It never will."
His gaze lifted to meet Batman's.
"You would have to wipe the slate clean. Every citizen. Every system. Start from nothing and rule with absolute control just to have a chance."
He gestured vaguely toward the city.
"And even then, I am not sure it would last."
His tone sharpened as he continued.
"Look at the Court of Owls," he said. "They run Gotham from the shadows. They keep people desperate, keep them trapped. And these are your elites, your 'pillars' of society."
A faint, humorless smile touched his lips.
"One of them helped found the city itself."
Batman remained silent.
Kieran took another sip of whisky, then set the glass down carefully.
"Listen," he said. "The Khadym and Riley negotiations were not about profit. They were necessary."
He leaned back again, eyes never leaving Batman.
"You like operating in the shadows," he continued. "So does the Court. It suits both of you."
His voice hardened slightly.
"I am not particularly fond of dodging assassins every day."
A small pause.
"So I am going to drag them into the light."
He let that settle before continuing.
"Use the gangs, Batman," Kieran said. "They will fight the Court for you. With your help, we can tear them apart."
There was a flicker of something almost nostalgic in his expression.
"And then," he added, "you can go back to your regularly scheduled crime fighting."
A faint smile returned.
"Beating down the same people the Court helped create."
He tilted his head slightly.
"It will be just like old times."
—
A/N: cliff hanger because I'm a asshole and totally not because I'm trying to figure out what Batman should reply. Also it may seem like they are having the same argument everytime they meet like this. It is on purpose.