Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

Yuffie took the long way around, practically making it a tour of the entire town. She collared--not literally, since the nurses would've thrown fits--a few random citizens along the way, asked as many inconspicuous sounding questions as possible, and then moved on. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sneaking a few covert glimpses into stores and windows confirmed what she'd been talking about with Sam earlier; no dates, no explicitly mentioned locations outside of the town itself… how weird was that? Even the most insular of towns back on Gaia would've coughed up some kind of connection with the outside world.

It was almost like a living ghost town.

Well, maybe she was just thinking too hard. Maybe she was throwing shuriken too hard at the wrong target. Back home, she had a concrete frame of reference. Here, she couldn't take anything for granted; she had no local or international knowledge whatsoever. All she could try to do was get a profile of the immediate area and build it up and out from there. Theories were already budding, popping up like weeds hit by Quadra-Haste, but without facts to back them up, theories were like sand in a desert.

Not that she didn't want to share those theories, sand or not. She did. A lot.

Once she'd developed a viable mental map of the place (as viable as she was gonna get given the time constraints), Yuffie swung back around and jogged back to North Street. From there, she took the alley; a quick right turn; slow to a trot, and there. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold winter air, and they stung as she poked her head in through the door.

Okay, so maybe she was a little early after all. That was cool. Very cool. She had some time to set things up, to pretend that she wasn't hideously under prepared for this lunch date. Stepping into the warmth, Yuffie surreptitiously cased the place out as she headed to a table. Homey, in a way that almost reminded her of some of the up-and-coming rural towns. Automatically seeking out one of the more strategic seats--one with a good view of the rest of the restaurant, and one that didn't leave her totally vulnerable to mutant chairs or murderous sandwiches--she made herself comfortable, whipped out a few crumpled pieces of paper and a pen, and began to jot down her findings.

[Closed to Edgeworth.]

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[scarletspeedstr.livejournal.com]

The sugary assault continued until thirty-seven spoonfuls had been added thanks to those little papery packets Wally was a big fan of, then he gave the mix one last stir, feeling the scrape of excess sugar along the bottom of the cup, and downed half of it in one gulp.

"Man, that really hits the spot," he remarked. "I'm probably gonna need more sugar though," he added, with an embarrassed grin.

The relaxed conversation hadn't lasted long, but he hadn't really expected anything different. His smile fading, Wally thought back to what he could remember of last night and Bart's side of the damnable TV screen, as well as his conversation with the younger speedster a couple of nights back.

"He said he could phase through stuff normally, but it doesn't work here. Ran smack into my door when he tried. He also said he knew a version of me that could do something similar, but that when he did it..." He trailed off, shrugged, and pressed his fists together before opening them up and outward in an illustrative gesture. "Boom."

He took another gulp of his coffee-and-sugar sludge and turned to the other topic. Bruce seemed to know Wally had seen more than he let on of the experiments, or at least more than he could have known by just turning up afterwards, but he hadn't starting pressing for how just yet, thankfully. He'd have to be ready for when that came later though.

"I don't think so," he said finally. "I didn't see much, but he wasn't using his speed. But that makes me wonder what they were doing to him."

[gothamnight.livejournal.com]

Phase through stuff normally....

It was the first time Bruce had heard of a speedster that could literally walk through solid materials, though he guessed from Wally's matter-of-fact tone that it wouldn't be the last. While there was little to no knowledge to be had of the exact physical composition of the Speed Force that granted Wally and Bart their powers, from what Bruce understood it worked at a molecular level to speed up cellular processes and enable to the body to access vast amounts of energy without breaking down the structure of the human body. Theoretically, with so much energy in possession, the body should, in a sense, begin to "separate"--that is, individual atoms should be vibrating at speeds so high that they would no longer be able to maintain full strength of the bonds set between them, leaving significant "spaces" between components. Then, if the molecules were moving at a frequency that permitted resonance between Bart's body and whatever solid material he wanted to phase through.......the control needed for that kind of movement was mind-boggling. But metas had a fuller range of senses than normal humans as well....

....then again. Of all people, Batman should know that some powers just couldn't be explained. Or, at least, couldn't be without Batman hauling himself over to Metropolis, kidnapping a six-foot Kryptonian specimen, and locking him in a Kryptonite-laced laboratory for an extensive series of tests likely to span over at least a decade.

In short, he would have to become Lex Luthor. And after what he had seen happen in a laboratory environment to one Clark already...Bruce could say with confidence now that he would be hard-pressed to justify this kind of experimentation on anyone. Regardless of the ends.....the means were too costly.

Bruce's eyes flickered down to his coffee, but did not stay there.

"...what indeed."

He noted the shade and consistency of Wally's "coffee" and continued.

"Likely...a psychological experiment, then. Considering the histories of the patients they have gathered, testing our physical limits would make more sense, but there's no predicting madmen."

[scarletspeedstr.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I guess," Wally agreed reluctantly. "But... why'd they have to do something like that to Bart? Why any of the kids here? It just... I mean, I know that they're not exactly the best of people running this place, but even guys like Luthor leave kids alone."

He sighed, swirling the sugary coffee mix around in his cup before taking another long gulp. He knew without Bruce telling him that age meant nothing to whoever was really calling the shots in the Institute, Landel or someone else, but all the same...

"I just feel like there had to have been a way to prevent all this," he muttered.

[gothamnight.livejournal.com]

Why?

Why?





...it was the billion-dollar question: the one thing no one knew and probably the one thing they most needed to know. Why the experiments? Why the captivity? Were patients caught for different purposes? Why had Bruce and Bart, two patients that came in relatively later than so many others in the Institute...why had they been chosen for Counseling when some of the veterans hadn't? Why were some patients brainwashed while others kept painfully lucid? Why the varied nature of the experiments? Did any of this have a connecting purpose, or was this Institute a congregation of different scientists seeking access to different kinds of resources? Why.....sometime last night the word had come into its own and morphed into a nightmare that haunted Bruce now as much as the man he nearly slaughtered. Why the Joker? Why Barbara?

Why his memories?

Why, why, why.






.....he'd been trying not to think about it all morning. Barbara, Jason, Tim...anyone from his past and present, any thoughts of old hurts and recycled regrets that typically darted through his head like quicksilver. It wasn't a matter of fear, but ownership. He longer knew which thoughts were his and which his. The other Batman was as much like Bruce as he was different, so much so that if Bruce wasn't careful he found himself referring to his memories like he had the right. Which he didn't.

He didn't.

..............the other Batman's memories were full of darkness—a darkness Bruce had never known but had imagined, in his darkest moments, lying in one pool of slime or another with holes through his shoulder and a hastily-sewn patch of cut on his stomach. Aside from the memories seared into his psyche by last night's events, Bruce suspected that there were more lurking under the surface—more that he was determinedly blocking out so long as he had an excuse to do so. Jason, Barbara, Joker.......Bruce thought suddenly of the Tim he'd met and realized that the distance laid between them could easily be crossed, now, now that Bruce had not only the face but memories of the man Tim'd known as a—yes. Not to mention the boy who'd called himself Tim that puzzled Bruce even earlier: a boy that Bruce now knew to name and whose mention sparked a painful spike of emotion Bruce came slowly to realize was a combination of self-hatred and grief.

It didn't help, that somewhere in the back of his mind...Bruce couldn't help but wonder if he had truly killed him, the boy with the black hair that'd spat out his hate— wonder if the doctors had drugged him and put a mask on his face and put him in that small room to taunt Bruce: once while he was alive and a second time, now, that he was dead and Bruce didn't know enough to grieve.

Jason. Jason.

...that wasn't you in there, was it?

[gothamnight.livejournal.com]

Wally wasn't smiling anymore, but when Bruce looked at his earnest expression, he was finally able to pinpoint what it was about the Flash's presence that....kept him here. Here, in this restaurant, sitting down and sipping coffee and generally able to function and think as if something terrible hadn't just happened, as if the Batman's roar in his head wasn't threatening to overwhelm and change Bruce.

I mean, I know that they're not exactly the best of people running this place, but even guys like Luthor leave kids alone.

Even guys like Luthor leave kids alone.

Even guys like Luthor—


........the faintest of smiles appeared on Bruce's face—only for a second, before he realized what it must look like to Wally and squashed it. He was suddenly aware of a breath of air—light, like relief—caught in his chest and struggled to release it, reminding himself that wanting to fully belong again in the world that was originally Wally's and his was shirking responsibility. The world in his head now was no longer a world where Lex Luthor wouldn't use kids in experiments for the sake of furthering his interests.......but the world Wally knew was still....almost safe. And with the mess in his own head now...

.....just the reminder that there was still someone who knew where this Bruce Wayne came from......was an immense relief.

"........we eventually will need to start from the beginning," Bruce said after a long silence.

"With the number of victims being taken, the most efficient and effective way to take down Landel and his associates is probably the most direct—if also the most risky."

Eye contact.

"We need to find a way to reach or communicate to the doctors directly—perhaps cause a distraction, grab their attention, find out what they're after—but something."

[scarletspeedstr.livejournal.com]

Wally sighed into his coffee as Bruce remained quiet for a long time. No doubt stopping himself from pointing out to Wally that there wasn't much that he could have done, or that they'd both known about the experiments, which would just wind up being another round of arguing over who's fault it really was...

And he didn't want to go through another round of that.

He risked a glance up at the other man and blinked in surprise as he caught what seemed to be the smallest of smiles. It was only there for a moment or so, but there was something almost... He wasn't sure what emotion to attribute to it, to be honest. The word 'nostalgic' came to mind, but he couldn't imagine why. More likely he was just misreading something. Bats always had been harder to figure out.

Still, the fact that he was smiling, even just for a few seconds and only a tiny bit, was worrying on some level. On a 'Bats, you're starting to scare me' level. If he hadn't already been intent on keeping an eye on Bruce as well as Bart, that probably would have done it.

Bruce broke the silence this time, and Wally drained the last of his coffee as he listened.

"No offence, but how're we going to do that?" he asked when the other man was done. "I mean, for all that this is a mental institute, we hardly ever see any doctors, and I got to the rooms last night as quick as I could, but I didn't see anyone leaving either. It's like they just, I dunno, teleport in whenever they're needed and then teleport back out after."

He paused, suddenly remembering what else he'd been meaning to tell Bats before last night's mess (and the day before, come to think of it) had made things more complicated. "Landel seems to be the same as well," he added. "I asked around, he made an appearance a while back in the chapel, but when people tried to attack him, there seemed to be some kind of shield or something stopping them."

He shrugged. "I'm normally not one to say things are hopeless, but this is seeming pretty hard even to me."