HOMEMADE DYNAMITE !
❝ THE ODDS. ❞

INTRODUCING:

ava black.
NATALIE ALYN LIND.
BLUE ARROW.

THE SIX HOUR JOURNEY WAS LONG. Abby had not been allowed to drive, unsurprisingly, but riding shotgun gave her enough time look into the 'Seventy Nine Central' apartments (the location the GPS was sending them). By the time they arrived, she already knew the ins and outs of the skyscraper. Old habits, right?

Dick had been quick to point out that it still didn't mean they knew what they were walking into. A middle finger had been his only response. He didn't argue after that.

The sound of Abby's door slamming shut echoed off the walls of the car park behind the high rise and finally signalled their official arrival in Chicago, Illinois. Sirens wailed in the distance and the sun glinted on tinted office windows, the buzz of people and life swarming around outside, and entirely different world to the one the two of them knew.

That was one of the things she'd always hated about being a vigilante. No matter what life or death situation she was fighting, stepping into the day reminded her these people weren't fighting it. She was still an outsider.

In the end she supposed Oliver had always been right. Once you walk in the shadows, you never truly step back into the light. The darkness doesn't simply leave when the sun comes out. Being a hero takes a toll.

And Abigail Lance couldn't even be angry about it. She could not ask the cosmos why me? She could not step into the light and not see the shadows under her skin because this was the life she chose. This was her choice. Her road. She knew where it ended. Hadn't she always?

"Let's go," Dick said, fingers grazing her elbow as he nodded his head towards the glass doors of Seventy Nine Central.

She tore her eyes from the bustling street, meeting his gaze for a moment before pushing ahead, the two making their way around to take the front entrance into the apartments, Abby stepping in first.

The lobby was silent. Empty, save for a single elderly lady, pleasantly trimming the small potted plant upon a cabinet in the hallway to the elevator. Abby's gaze lingered on the only occupant for a moment, then she followed Dick to the directory found on the touchscreen podium.

He looked up to her as she approached, his voice low and hushed, "Only one inhabitant."

She glanced down at the screen. Adamson, Penthouse suite. Her eyes met Dick's again.

"Why are they always in the penthouse?" Abby muttered, raising a dark eyebrow.

Dick smiled, shrugging softly. "Evil corporations must pay well."

Abby chuckled ironically, casting him a look, "Look to Lex Luthor if no one else."

The two walked away from the podium in sync, beginning to make their way towards the lift at the end of the mirror-clad hallway. Clicking the upwards arrow, Abby stepped back from the doors and waited for it to arrive, folding her hands in front of her patiently. She turned to look over her shoulder only to find Dick, taking a step forwards, glaring challengingly at the security camera positioned in the corner opposite them.

Abby's voice came out unimpressed, but not unsurprised. "Can you try not to piss them off before we arrive? I'd like to get at least one sentence in before having to get in a fist fight with someone."

"You? Talk?" Dick turned around, looking to her with a raised brow. "Since when did you talk first, throw punches later?"

"Well I didn't beat the shit out of you when I first saw you at Hank and Dawn's," she pointed out without missing a beat.

Dick crossed his arms, his voice taking a lighter intonation, "I'd like to see you try."

"I bet you would, Batboy," Abby scoffed, lips crackling into a smile.

His nose scrunched up in contemplation, his words teasing, "From what I've seen so far, I'm not too worried, Bird Brain."

"Oh really?" Abby challenged, her brows lofting.

Before Dick could reply, the grey-haired woman from the lobby appeared beside them, voice polite and friendly. "Butterscotch, dears?"

The two watched her for a moment, then cautiously took one each from her open palm. They nodded in thanks, and she beamed brightly back at the duo. Their gaze didn't leave her back as she walked away, but the lift arrived with a ding and they clambered in.

On the way up, Abby gazed out of the glass walls, watching the city below grow smaller and smaller until they became ants beneath her boot. Sometimes the height still made her stomach drop. She lifted her gaze, turning her head as her eyes settled on Dick beside her.

"Big building," Abby mused aloud, "Wonder why it's only them."

The brunet shifted to look at her, a smile tugging at his lips, "We're about to find out."

Abby's eyes trailed to the scene before her as the lift slowed to a stop. "Great."

"I like our odds," Dick smiled softly, confidently, eyes still on her, until she met his gaze and he faced towards, pushing through the glass door of the penthouse elevator.

"That ... literally just gives me a bad feeling," Abby muttered under her breath and he shot her a glare as she followed him out of the elevator.

It was barely two o'clock in the afternoon and Abigail could feel exhaustion in her bones are they stepped out into the penthouse, submerged suddenly in the white, luxury room now surrounding them. Ornate art hung on the walls, colourful flowers sat in various vases around the room, glass ornaments decorating the walls and counters.

They made their way down the small staircase into the kitchen. A man stood at the island in the corner of the room. Adamson. He held a bottle of sparkling champagne in one hand, a half full glass in the other. He didn't seem surprised at their presence, that their arrival meant they found him, and that didn't surprise Abby either. He placed the bottle down.

"Ah, Miss Lance," the man greeted politely, gaze moving from the woman to the man beside her, "Detective Grayson."

"Are you Mr Adamson?" Dick asked bluntly, face falling dark.

Okay, formalities out the window.

Abby threw Dick a baffled frown, arms folded on her chest as she leant against the counter, "No, he's one of the other residents."

"You're not helping," Dick commented flatly.

Adamson seemed amused, but nodded in response to Dick's question. "Dr Adamson. Are either of you hungry? I've got something on the stove."

"I like to think of accepting food from potentially evil psychopaths as the equivalent of taking candy from strangers," Abby replied sharply, the pausing, "But thanks for the offer."

"Really? I always ranked taking food from enemies higher up with things like straight-up asking the Scarcrow to aggressively spray you in the face with fear gas," Dick mused allowed, before his voice took on a more serious tone and he focused. "Who are you people, what do you want with Rachel? And where are our friends?"

Abby's eyes widened briefly. "Wow just throw all the questions at him at once then, Dick."

"Your friends?" Adamson questioned, face unreadable.

"The ones your little family of brainwashed psychos kidnapped from the house they blew up in Ohio?" Abby explained passively, "One of them's tall, has bright pink hair, looks like she could kill you with a spoon? The other two are short, give off a really nervous energy and are more anxious than a government official?"

"Oh, right, yes. Them. The ones Mr King dropped off. Yes they're in our custody." Adamson nodded calmly, resting back against the countertop. Anger simmered in Abigail's veins at his flippancy. "And as much as I'd love to have a lengthy conversation with you both about Rachel Roth, I'm afraid there's no time."

"Yeah, okay, changed my mind," Abby muttered, turning her back to Adamson as she cast Dick a look, "that gives me a bad feeling."

"It should." Adamson replied calmly, "You two found me. I've been ... exposed. So the organisation is sending people to kill us." He glanced towards the clock. "We have one minute, unless we leave right now."

Dick looked to Abby, it was clear he had no intention of leaving. For once, Abby had the same thought in mind. She nodded to him, the two of them turning back to Adamson. She stood behind Dick, quietly seething.

"Or, we could stay," Adamson suggested nonchalantly, picking up his flute, "For one last glass of champagne."

"No one knows we're here," Dick frowned, eyes dark as he desperately tried to connect the pieces of a puzzle he only had half the picture to.

Adamson sighed. "I do. So does the old woman downstairs. They're everywhere."

Abby took a step forwards, annoyance strong in her voice as her mind clouded with frustration. They were getting nowhere. "Does this organisation work for Rachel's father? Is he the one looking for her?"

"You could say that, yes." Adamson placed his now empty glass down. His eyes strayed and he tsked glibly. "Oh dear, my crepes are burning."

Abigail's face turned stormy, impatience reaching its brim, and her palm shot out, vibrations knocking the pan straight off the stove and into the wall; she strode forwards angrily, grabbing Adamson by his waistcoat and slamming him against the wall.

"Crepes are the least of your worries," Abby growled, grip so tight her knuckles turned white, "Now we need answers and I can promise it's in your own self interest to give them us."

Dick stood behind her calmly, arms folded and his brow creased mockingly. "What happened to talking first?"

"It got boring," Abby replied without hesitation, pressing Adamson harder and catching sight of the plaster behind him beginning to crack.

Adamson hardly seemed phased. "I'm sorry, Miss Lance. But we have less than ten seconds before the final answers come for all of us." He smiled. "Four... three... two...—."

The sound of a gun locking interrupted his countdown and Abigail's blood ran cold. Answers be damned, Dick stood between her and that noise and she didn't have time to think. She moved quickly. Her left hand flew out as she twisted away from Adamson, palm outstretched. Vibrations exploded from her fingertips, ripping through the air, taking out both the agent and the bullet fired from his gun.

She shoved Adamson to the ground and dove over the kitchen island, coming out in a roll and crashing into the first agent in front of her. Abby tackled them to the ground where she landed two hard-hitting punches to their faces and jumped up. Another slammed into her straight away, her back cracking painfully off the side of the counter as she landed dangerously close to the hob; she grabbed her attacker's face and pressed it into the burning heat, dropping them to the floor.

Having a moment to breathe, she looked to Dick, finding him smashing a wine bottle over one's head before violently impaling him with it. She glanced back to see more agents in black flooding own the staircase.

Her gaze met his. "Still liking our odds?"

His glare was the only response she got before a new wave of assailants hit them. She knew she couldn't use her powers effectively, not in such a confined place, not when she was still relearning. She wouldn't endanger Dick like that. Instead she grabbed a knife from the chopping board beside her, slicing lethally at the first gunman within reach, watching fatal slash after slash appear on them before she drove it into their chest and kicked them backwards, their body taking out two more men momentarily.

Abby rolled back over the countertop, planting her foot in the side of another, sending them stumbling away from Dick. She landed a sharp right hook to the side of another's face, the momentum forcing them down and her hands pressed down on the back of their helmet as her knee rose to meet their nose. Scarlet stained her jeans, but the man lay unconscious on the floor.

A gunshot rang out and Abby's body jerked right as her shoulder was pushed back by the force of the bullet. She let out a pained gasp but quickly regained her footing and pushed the shooter's gun away from her, her palm connecting with their throat viciously followed by her cracking their face off of the marble counter.

But the sound of her being shot had distracted Dick, and it was all a gunman had needed to land the butt of their gun in his nose, bones cracking and bloods gushing as the detective stumbled backwards. Three more men jumped on him, fists and feet raining down on Dick.

Abby was there in an instant, shoulder dripping blood onto the floors but seemingly not affecting her in the slightest as she pulled one of them away and slammed her knuckles into their face; as they fell, more agents swarmed the room and one kick to the back of her knees left her on the floor besides Dick. Her hand grasped her shoulder, blood seeping through her fingers.

Then a silver ball rolled into their line of view. And another. Dick crashed into her, pushing her away from the device as it exploded, throwing smoke and gas into the air as he held his breath and his hand covered her mouth. Her eyes caught sight of something glimmering in the evening light and suddenly an arrow lodged itself into the wall, releasing bright bursts of light and sparks.

Abby blinked away the phosphenes, watching as two smaller figures emerged from the cloud and joined the fight, the sounds of bowstrings and rustling capes their battle cry as they took down the attackers one by one, only stopping when not a gunman was standing.

As the mist dissipitated, it revealed two costumed teenagers. One in what Abby could only describe as a blue take on Roy Harper's suit, and the other — she pulled Dick's hand from her face as her lips parted in shock — in Robin armour.

Forcing herself to her feet, she peered at the two vigilantes, eyes narrowed in indecisiveness.

The boy stepped forwards, smirk on his lips. "Wow, Dick Grayson in the flesh. Nice to meet you, bro."

He held out his hand down towards the boy sat by Abby's feet. One look at Dick told her he was beyond unimpressed. But she could see the cogs turning in his head as he reached the conclusion Abby had made herself. This boy was not just wearing Robin armour, he was Robin. The new Robin. Bats had wasted no time with that one.

Voicing the very thoughts the pair were thinking, the new sidekick spoke again. "I'm the new Robin."

Abby's expression fell slack, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Now there's two of you? Great."

"You must be Abby Lance," Robin said slyly, turning his outstretched hand to her, "Pleasure."

"It's all yours," Abby answered flatly.

"See, Jaybird," the girl sighed mockingly, "It's not just me who hated you at first sight. It's clearly a universal thing."

The boy glared at her.

Abby looked to Dick for clarification, hoping he was able to make more sense of this scene than her. Instead, she saw that rather than dealing with the situation before him, Dick Grayson had elected to ignore it. He was slowly making his way towards the unconscious Dr Adamson a few feet away. She watched with an unimpressed frown.

"It's an honour to meet you, Tremor," the girl grinned, speaking with a familiarity Abby did not like.

Abby turned to her, "The feeling is not mutual. Sorry, who the fuck are you, again?"

The girl raised an eyebrow behind her mask. "I'm Blue Arrow."

"Blue Arrow?" Abby turned to look at Dick, "Blue Arrow? Ollie's creativity never fails to amaze."

"Actually," the blonde interrupted, "Oliver didn't choose my alias. My older sister suggested it — Nora?"

Abby blinked, the dots not quite connecting. The girl rolled her eyes and pulled the mask from her face, revealing that of a teenage girl, square-jawed and sharp eyed, with long blonde hair like her mother's but eyes like her father's, sky blue and intelligent. She caught Dick wearing an expression she assumed was similiar to her own: surprise.

"I know," the girl announced, hands in front of her, "I grew up fast."

"I was gonna say you look like your parents..." Abby commented, before shrugging, only to wince in pain at the movement, "But that works, too."

Ava Black tilted her head, eyebrow raised. A few moments of silence passed, and then Abigail let out a long, dramatic puff of air through pursed lips.

"I feel fucking old," Abby commented flatly. "Fully grown Ava Black is stood before us and all I feel is old. Old, Dick. Like Bruce."

From where he was hovering over Adamson, Dick ignored her and turned to the blonde, "Ava, since when were you a.....?"

"Vigilante? Officially? Like two months," Ava shrugged. "But I've been training with Dad and Oliver for a while now. I've been patrolling with Ollie for the past couple weeks," she looked to Abby, "Since you left for Detroit."

Abby's eyebrow arched. Well, at least Ollie had waited until she was out of the state, right? Still... ouch. A smile tugged up her lips from a pout at a sudden new thought. Bet Roy took this like a champ.

She frowned. "Don't know how I'm feeling about the fact that one of my oldest friends' little sister as replaced me as my uncle's favourite sidekick." She gestured to Dick flippantly, her shoulder twinging painfully again, "You, I can understand, but I didn't even leave them alone for five minutes."

"Yeah, we're not your replacements," Robin 2.0 interrupted, eyebrows knitted together behind his mask. "We're the upgrades."

"Upgrades, huh?" Abby watched him for a moment with a blank expression before turning back to Dick, "I've gotta question Bruce's judgement on this one. How bad did you leave it, Jr?"

"Really?" Dick replied in frustration. But after a second, his tone took on a snarky undertone, "I can definitely see why they'd wanna replace you, too."

"That's just rude," Abby scowled dryly.

He turned back to her, arms hooked under Adamson's, with an eyebrow raised, "You helping me with Adamson or what, Lance?"

Abby gestured widly with her free hand at her crimson-stained shoulder. "I'm currently bleeding all over the man's white tiled floor - what do you think, Grayson?"

"I think I may have forgotten about you getting shot," He grimaced.

"How endearing."

Ava cleared her throat. "Considering that a dozen more of these assholes," she pointed her thumb over her shoulder to the gunmen behind her, "are probably on their way here as we speak, if you two could continue the lovers spat in the car, that would be cool."

Dick exchanged a look with Abby before the two of them nodded. Robin (Jaybird, had Ava's patronising nickname been?) moved to his side to help drag Adamson, and Ava raised her bow, once again placing her mask across her face as she took the lead. Abby grabbed the arrow from the wall and R-shaped shuriken from the floor as she followed her.

Robin turned to Dick as the pair of them began hauling the unconscious man across the room, "Do you guys always bicker like that?"

"No," Dick answered, as Abby instanteously replied with Yes. He looked up to find her grinning impishly at him.

"Did you guys not hear the part where I said more bad guys are coming?" Ava inquired from the staircase, an arrow notched in the bow at her side.

Abby glanced once more back around the kitchen, at the carnage they'd left in their wake - at the bodies she'd left behind her. Her gaze flitted tot Adamson, unconscious, then to the damage littering Dick's skin from the fight, to the the bullet in her shoulder. Somehow, she was leaving with more burning questions than she'd come with, more confused than when she'd started, and no answers. But one thing was clearer than ever.

Whatever, whoever, was after Rachel, they were going to extreme lengths to hide themselves, to keep their goals and their faces hidden. They were silhouttes hiding in shadows, nothing but ghosts in the night, working in twilight. But Abigail Lance didn't need to draw them into the light.

She knew all to well how to walk in the shadows.

NOTE!
ava black is: barry allen's humour and maya black's attitude. but better. she's nora's little sister!! idk man i've only introduced y'all to the kids who take after maya — i promise, at least two of barry and maya's kids act like their dad lmao 🥴

anywho, there'll be another update tomorrow from yours truly in honour of 100K FUCKING READS!! AND 4.5K VOTES!! holy shit. thank you guys so much, truly. y'all ready to see how dick and abby met next?

remember to leave comments and let me know what you thought of this chapter! thanks for reading, kids!