Trouble in Gotham City (Chapter 1)
Title: Trouble in Gotham City (Chapter 1)
'Verse: DCU (batman) The Dresden Files (TV!verse)
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Bob, mentions Bruce, Cass, Babs, Dick, Tim, and Alfred
Rating: PG?
Summary: Harry's dream becomes clear, with a little bit of gingko and a little bit of magic.
Harry turned and shook the hand of the man who had finally gotten him to Gotham, the last man of a string of people Harry’d hitchhiked with from Chicago. The guy smiled and Harry grabbed his stuff, shuffling out the car door.
As the man drove away Harry stared at the sprawling city before him. It was a dizzying mixture of decadence, dirt, and decay. Harry felt warm, despite the cold.
“Just like home.”
The tall wizard shouldered his duffel and the bag containing Bob. He wasted no time staring up at the towering examples of various styles of architecture. Instead, he set out purposefully, with long, self-assured strides.
In reality he has no idea where he’s going.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It had started two weeks ago, with the headaches. Harry would wake up, head ringing, all broken out in a cold sweat from some dream he couldn’t remember. He would be shivering, freezing.
Several nights and hot showers later, he had decided to tell Bob.
“Well, it’s really a shame that you didn’t tell me before now. You could have saved yourself so much time. As it is, you’re going to be late.”
“Late? Late for what? Bob, I swear, if you don’t stop talking in riddles, I-“
“Really, Harry. No need for threats. I was just going to point out that such dreams are often omens. And if you’re as frightened and cold as you say you are when you awake, then it’s a strong premonition. And you’re late trying to figure out what it is.”
Harry ran a hand over his face, pushing back his hair. “Okay, okay, Bob. Well, at least I told you a few days after it started. So I can’t be that late.”
Bob shook his head, scowling. “Harry, how many times do I have to tell you? Time waits for no man. Nor does it wait for any wizard. I’m sure whatever evil, snarling creature you have to defeat now would be quite willing to wait a couple of days for you to figure out what your dreams mean.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. How do we figure this out?”
Bob sighed. “Now you ask me for help. If I have to lecture you every time you need something… Well, do you remember anything at all from your sleep?”
The tall wizard ran his hand through his hair again in frustration. His headache, blinding in its pain, really overshadowed any bits of dream he could remember. He frowned, deep in concentration.
Finally he looked at the shorter wizard, still frowning. “Well, I can remember small bits of normal dream stuff.”
Bob raised an eyebrow.
“Y’know really insignificant pieces of fluff that your subconscious comes up with. The stuff you can barely remember when you wake up.”
“Like what?”
Harry flushed. “Like Murphy. Naked.”
Bob laughed. “Now that’s something I would have liked to have been privy to.”
Harry smiled weakly. “But I can’t remember anything useful. I mean, really. How important can naked Murphy be?”
Bob frowned, pacing the length of the lab. “I suspect that something is blocking your actual visions, Harry. That’s probably why you have those headaches. The effort that this… something is making is mixing badly with your energies, causing you pain in the most mundane of ways. But tonight, you’re going to drink a glass of water, mixed with essence of gingko. And then we’ll see what happens.”
Harry sighed. “You know gingko makes me nauseous.”
Bob smirked. “You’re right. I do. However, as it is an herb that promotes mental clarity, and that is what you will need to combat this force blocking you from your visions, you will have to brave out the nausea.”
Harry nodded, resigned to his fate. “Fine, fine. But we really need to come up with a mental clarity herbal essence that doesn’t make me want to toss my cookies.”
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
That night, after drinking the glass of gingko and battling the horrid sick feeling that it brought on, Harry went to bed.
Almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed and he slept.
Bob, lecturing on the Black Arts, and how to avoid them / Uncle Justin, yelling and screaming and holding my mother captive / My father, pulling apart a set of rings and grinning like a skull…
And then the dream shifted. Where before there had been little snippets of inconsequential dream-nothings, now the dream was as clear as day, everything sharp as real life.
A bat. A big, dark man, who once was a bat, but now was just a man. He fought on, fighting the darkness, conquering the black. His wings fluttered like flags at his back, ebony shining like a beacon through the likewise black night.
A big, ugly thing, new from the depths, old from the sky, mastering this man, who did all he could but was far out of his league.
But the fight wasn’t over. From nowhere sprouted a slim figure, ensconced within the Bat’s cloak, adding her weight to the man’s fight with the beast. She leaned against his back, eyes shut tight in concentration, pushing as hard as she could.
And then she fell, all of her strength going out of her. A new slim figure appeared, pulling behind her a chair made of shifting numbers, moving so quickly Harry could barely see them. The weakened girl sat down in the chair as the new girl added her weight to the Bat. The girl in the chair sent out streams of numbers to add their own weight to the battle. But the man in black was still outmatched.
Then two boys appeared, one in blue and black, and one in red and green and gold, adding their combined strength to the fight. With them came a man, hair white in his old age.
He was leading Bob.
The six of them lent their support to the Bat, who still struggled to defeat the beast. Harry could see he was lagging though. There was only so much one man could do.
So Harry stepped forwards to help.
He woke up.
'Verse: DCU (batman) The Dresden Files (TV!verse)
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Bob, mentions Bruce, Cass, Babs, Dick, Tim, and Alfred
Rating: PG?
Summary: Harry's dream becomes clear, with a little bit of gingko and a little bit of magic.
Harry turned and shook the hand of the man who had finally gotten him to Gotham, the last man of a string of people Harry’d hitchhiked with from Chicago. The guy smiled and Harry grabbed his stuff, shuffling out the car door.
As the man drove away Harry stared at the sprawling city before him. It was a dizzying mixture of decadence, dirt, and decay. Harry felt warm, despite the cold.
“Just like home.”
The tall wizard shouldered his duffel and the bag containing Bob. He wasted no time staring up at the towering examples of various styles of architecture. Instead, he set out purposefully, with long, self-assured strides.
In reality he has no idea where he’s going.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
It had started two weeks ago, with the headaches. Harry would wake up, head ringing, all broken out in a cold sweat from some dream he couldn’t remember. He would be shivering, freezing.
Several nights and hot showers later, he had decided to tell Bob.
“Well, it’s really a shame that you didn’t tell me before now. You could have saved yourself so much time. As it is, you’re going to be late.”
“Late? Late for what? Bob, I swear, if you don’t stop talking in riddles, I-“
“Really, Harry. No need for threats. I was just going to point out that such dreams are often omens. And if you’re as frightened and cold as you say you are when you awake, then it’s a strong premonition. And you’re late trying to figure out what it is.”
Harry ran a hand over his face, pushing back his hair. “Okay, okay, Bob. Well, at least I told you a few days after it started. So I can’t be that late.”
Bob shook his head, scowling. “Harry, how many times do I have to tell you? Time waits for no man. Nor does it wait for any wizard. I’m sure whatever evil, snarling creature you have to defeat now would be quite willing to wait a couple of days for you to figure out what your dreams mean.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. How do we figure this out?”
Bob sighed. “Now you ask me for help. If I have to lecture you every time you need something… Well, do you remember anything at all from your sleep?”
The tall wizard ran his hand through his hair again in frustration. His headache, blinding in its pain, really overshadowed any bits of dream he could remember. He frowned, deep in concentration.
Finally he looked at the shorter wizard, still frowning. “Well, I can remember small bits of normal dream stuff.”
Bob raised an eyebrow.
“Y’know really insignificant pieces of fluff that your subconscious comes up with. The stuff you can barely remember when you wake up.”
“Like what?”
Harry flushed. “Like Murphy. Naked.”
Bob laughed. “Now that’s something I would have liked to have been privy to.”
Harry smiled weakly. “But I can’t remember anything useful. I mean, really. How important can naked Murphy be?”
Bob frowned, pacing the length of the lab. “I suspect that something is blocking your actual visions, Harry. That’s probably why you have those headaches. The effort that this… something is making is mixing badly with your energies, causing you pain in the most mundane of ways. But tonight, you’re going to drink a glass of water, mixed with essence of gingko. And then we’ll see what happens.”
Harry sighed. “You know gingko makes me nauseous.”
Bob smirked. “You’re right. I do. However, as it is an herb that promotes mental clarity, and that is what you will need to combat this force blocking you from your visions, you will have to brave out the nausea.”
Harry nodded, resigned to his fate. “Fine, fine. But we really need to come up with a mental clarity herbal essence that doesn’t make me want to toss my cookies.”
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
That night, after drinking the glass of gingko and battling the horrid sick feeling that it brought on, Harry went to bed.
Almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed and he slept.
Bob, lecturing on the Black Arts, and how to avoid them / Uncle Justin, yelling and screaming and holding my mother captive / My father, pulling apart a set of rings and grinning like a skull…
And then the dream shifted. Where before there had been little snippets of inconsequential dream-nothings, now the dream was as clear as day, everything sharp as real life.
A bat. A big, dark man, who once was a bat, but now was just a man. He fought on, fighting the darkness, conquering the black. His wings fluttered like flags at his back, ebony shining like a beacon through the likewise black night.
A big, ugly thing, new from the depths, old from the sky, mastering this man, who did all he could but was far out of his league.
But the fight wasn’t over. From nowhere sprouted a slim figure, ensconced within the Bat’s cloak, adding her weight to the man’s fight with the beast. She leaned against his back, eyes shut tight in concentration, pushing as hard as she could.
And then she fell, all of her strength going out of her. A new slim figure appeared, pulling behind her a chair made of shifting numbers, moving so quickly Harry could barely see them. The weakened girl sat down in the chair as the new girl added her weight to the Bat. The girl in the chair sent out streams of numbers to add their own weight to the battle. But the man in black was still outmatched.
Then two boys appeared, one in blue and black, and one in red and green and gold, adding their combined strength to the fight. With them came a man, hair white in his old age.
He was leading Bob.
The six of them lent their support to the Bat, who still struggled to defeat the beast. Harry could see he was lagging though. There was only so much one man could do.
So Harry stepped forwards to help.
He woke up.