museofspeed: (Justice Riders Diana)
[personal profile] museofspeed
Title: In Blackest Night
Fandom: Justice Riders
Characters: Bart, Tim.
Prompt: 45. Moon
Word Count: 2153
Rating: PG
Summary: Tim follows a lead Luthor gives him. Also, he has some interesting houseguests.
Author's Notes: Ahah! You thought you'd never see the end of Young Justice Riders, didn't you? Well, I sure showed you! It has been continued! For those that need a refresher, part 1, part 2, and part 3! Thanks, as always, to the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] julius12, who both beta'd this fic, and also encouraged me to actually finish it.



Tim had not had much trouble making friends since he'd moved out to Wayne Ranch to care for it in Wayne's absence. He'd had Alfred, of course, and Bart may have been a bit… eccentric, but Tim found it impossible not to like him.

Still, he was glad Conner had decided to come visit his cousin, the famous writer Colonel Kent. He'd missed his best friend dearly.

He was also glad that Bart had taken to Conner so quickly. It wasn't surprising. Conner was very likeable. Sometime surprisingly so. Conner had been slapped by more girls than most men courted over an entire lifetime, yet most of those girls had agreed to dine with Conner anyway. Like Deputy Cassie Sandsmark. Seemed even Sheriff Prince's tough-as-nails apprentice wasn't immune to Conner's charms.

Nor was Bart, apparently. Bart listened to Conner's tales of the city with eyes wide. Tim had felt obliged to point out the parts where Conner clearly exaggerated, but mostly he just watched his two friends contentedly.

Conner had left that evening with promises to return the next day, and Tim had headed out to the much less pleasant portion of the evening.

He'd taken out a horse and told Bart not to wait up. Once in the woods, he put on his mask and gear and went to meet Luthor. He neither trusted nor liked the man, especially since he'd tried to threaten Tim Drake in a futile attempt to win Wayne's land. But he needed Luthor's help to apprehend the Kid Flash and his accomplice.

Of course, Luthor didn't know that Robin and Tim Drake were one and the same. And that was the way it would stay.

Luthor had told Robin that he had an idea of where Kid Flash would be that night. They would meet and follow the criminal back to wherever he was storing the goods he had stolen.

They'd retrieve Luthor's ring, the one with the green gemstone, and confiscate the rest of the goods. If all went according to plan, they'd also catch the outlaws themselves.

Robin met Luthor at the appointed time. They were both exactly fifteen minutes early.

Tim nodded cordially at Luthor, and tied his horse to a tree far enough away as not to attract any attention.

Kid Flash appeared exactly on time, companion in tow, as Luthor had predicted.

"Really hate having to slow down to get to our stuff," the accomplice said.

"It's safest here," Kid Flash said. "It's okay, kid. No one knows about this place except our folk."

Except Luthor, apparently. Tim spared him a glance. Eventually, he'd have to learn what Luthor's sources were. Perhaps one of West's allies had decided to turn to the side of the angels. But why report to Luthor? Why not the police?

West had started moving again. Tim motioned to Luthor to remain in place and slowly he moved forward, almost invisibly.

Wayne had taught him well. Neither of the men noticed Tim as he followed them through the undergrowth, silent as a bat.

They stopped at a giant tree. The branches were blackened from repeated lightning strikes. The outlaws paused for a moment to look up at the tree.

"Still say it's kinda creepy," West's partner said.

"Come on," West said. "We don't have long. You have to get back to the ranch."

His partner nodded.

Tim must have blinked because the two of them vanished. It looked almost as if they'd gone into the tree, but that was impossible.

Damn. Tim was supposed to be a better tracker than this. He walked around the tree, looking for a clue, but he couldn't find anything. He heard muffled voices, but he couldn't figure out where from.

Unless they'd somehow managed to get in the tree. Tim couldn't see any wires or mirrors, though. And the tree felt solid.

He knocked on it, and the voices stopped.

"Kid, RUN!" West yelled. "We've been found out!"

"Come with me!" the other one said. The two of them came out through the trunk of the tree… there was no question that they'd done it, but Tim couldn't think how it was possible.

The two of them started running faster than Tim had ever seen anyone run. They were like blurs on the wind.

There was no way Tim could catch them. But as they'd left, one of them had dropped a lead case.

He picked it up and opened it. It contained a ring with a green gem.

Luthor's ring.

Well, at least the mission hadn't been entirely a failure. Tim pocketed the ring and headed back.

Luthor was waiting for him.

"You didn't capture them?" He asked. "I delivered them to you on a platter! Why aren't they caught?"

"They got away," Tim said. "I doubt they'll be back. I got your ring, though." He tossed the lead box to Luthor. "I'll get them. Give me time. If you have more information, tell me. I'll meet you in the woods tomorrow at eleven sharp again. Same spot. If you don't have any information, don't bother coming."

Luthor narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I should take my information elsewhere," he said. "I have friends who know to respect me. You should too."

"You want the outlaws caught," Tim said. "I'm the one doing that. You will tell me what you know."

"Hmm," Luthor said. "Of course."

Tim rode away without saying good bye.



Tim changed in the woods and went to put his horse away.

Bart was in the barn rubbing down his horse, Impulse. "Oh! Tim!" he said, shooting him a slightly guilty look. "Wasn't expecting you t'be out this late still!"

Tim shrugged and dismounted. "Keep late hours sometimes. You should go to bed, Bart."

"I don't sleep much," Bart said. "Never seen the need. Plus, I like bein' with the animals." He rushed to help Tim remove the saddle and bridle.

"Your choice, I guess." Though it did make it hard for Robin to ride unnoticed. Tim could work with it, though. He'd had bigger set-backs.

"Why're you riding out so late anyways?" Bart asked. "I mean, most folk don't like riding at night."

"We've already established that I'm not 'most folk,' Bart."

"I know," Bart said. "Anything exciting happen?"

"Nothing really. Nice evening."

Bart nodded and started brushing Tim's horse. "You can go on to bed if y'want. I got it from here. Hell, you coulda let me do it all."

"I like helping," Tim said.

Bart nodded thoughtfully.

Suddenly, Crandall burst in, looking even sterner than usual.

"Bart," he said. He looked at Tim and nodded. "Mr. Drake," he added. "You have callers at the house. Alfred's entertaining them, but you should go there immediately."

Tim frowned. "Callers?"

"Guy Gardner and Hal Jordan," Crandall told him.

"Guy Gardner?" Bart said, horrorstruck. "Kid Baltimore?"

"Yes," Crandall said, striding over and putting a hand on Bart's shoulder. "He seemed…agitated. I'd go to him, Mr. Drake."

Tim nodded. "Thanks, Crandall," he said. "I'll go as soon as I've finished with the horses."

"We can take care of the horses," Bart said, words tripping over each other as he spoke hurriedly. "Go. If Mr. Guy Gardner's here, it's gotta be important, right?"

Tim nodded slowly. "I suppose," he admitted. "Well, good night."

Bart gave him a shaky grin. "'Night!"

Tim walked up to the house. He'd heard about Gardner. Kent wrote about the famed Kid Baltimore's adventures in his "Wild West Bravados." The man had a mighty reputation. However, he knew for a fact that when Wayne had crossed Gardner, Wayne had taken him down with one punch. For that reason, among others, Gardner hated Wayne. Tim wouldn't be surprised if the hatred were extended to Tim too.

He knew of Jordan too. The man was, if possible, more famous than Gardner. The Specter, he'd been known as. He'd put the fear of God into more than one low-down criminal in his time. But he'd retired all that to chase a dream. The man was determined to build a flying machine.

But if he were here with Guy Gardner, well, there was no telling what they wanted.

Tim entered the sitting room and nodded at the men. "Gardner, Jordan," he said cordially. "This is a pleasant surprise. I'll admit, I have few visitors at this hour."

"We're not here for pleasure, Drake," Gardner said, scowling.

"Manners, Guy," Jordan said.

Tim didn't react outwardly, but he was surprised. Few would dare to talk to Guy Gardner like that.

Gardner definitely didn't like it.

"Fine, Jordan, if you're so good at this, you do it."

Jordan smiled at Tim and offered a hand. "Drake," he said. "Been a while."

"That it has," Tim said, shaking his head. "What can I do for you?"

"We heard word that Kid Flash was hiding out here on Wayne Ranch," Jordan said. "Now, we're sure that you've got nothing to do with it – "

Gardner gave a loud snort. "Speak for yourself."

Jordan ignored him. "We'd appreciate it if you'd let us search your lands."

"I'd know if he were here," Tim said. "Who are your sources?"

"Classified," Gardner and Jordan said together.

"Look, we just want a look around," Jordan said. "We'll be quick."

Tim frowned. "I don't – "

The doors crashed open. A large black man and a white man who looked like he would be more comfortable with a paintbrush than with the gun he was holding walked inside.

They were dragging Bart, handcuffed in some strange sort of green material, between the two of them.

Wayne had trained Tim very well. Even so, he couldn't restrain a flinch.

"West got away," the black man said. "But we found his friend."

"Not possible," Tim said. "Surely you don't mean to suggest that Bart is a wanted criminal?"

"It ain't what you think!" Bart said, looking up at him.

"Drake, this is John Stewart and Kyle Rayner," Jordan said. "Rayner, Stewart, this is Tim Drake."

Tim felt that under the circumstances, he could be forgiven for forgetting his manners.

"You've handcuffed my field hand! Did your source tell you to arrest him too?"

"Yeah," Gardner said. "He said this kid's been helping the Kid Flash. Now get out of my way, Drake, or we’ll have to take you in too."

"I demand proof," Tim said. "Or are men no longer innocent until proven guilty in this country? Don't make me call for the sheriff!"

"Sheriff Prince," Jordan scoffed. "Sure, she's pretty tough, for a woman, but she's got a blind spot for the Kid Flash."

"Don’t matter anyway," Gardner said. "We'll be long gone by the time she gets here. Don't stop us, Drake."

"Your source," Tim said, not moving. He was going on a hunch, but he didn't have any other suspects. "Was it Luthor?"

None of the men answered.

"He wants Wayne ranch," Tim said. "He's using you. And he hates Bart."

"That doesn't mean it isn't true," Rayner said. "I'm sorry, Mr. Drake. We saw him using the Speed."

"The Speed?" Tim asked.

"The Kid Flash is the fastest gun in the West," Stewart said. "This kid could give him a run for his money."

Bart always did move faster than anyone else.

Tim scowled. "How does that prove anything?"

"The Kid's partner is just as fast," Jordan said.

Tim frowned. He could see the logic. He'd long suspected there was a connection between Bart and Kid Flash that went deeper than Barry Allen, Bart's grandfather and West's uncle, but he didn't want to believe it. He knew Bart. The kid was incapable of harming anyone. He didn't want it to be true.

He knelt in front of Bart. "Bart," he said. "Tell me it ain't true and I'll fight to free you right here and now."

Bart didn't answer. He didn't even meet Tim's eyes.

"Bart," Tim said firmly. He grabbed Bart's chin and made him look at Tim. "Tell me you weren't helping Kid Flash. Please."

"It ain't what you think," Bart insisted.

Tim dropped Bart's chin and stood up.

"Get him out of my sight," he said quietly. "Sorry for the trouble, gentlemen."

"Tim!" Bart said, panicked. "I had to! Wally's not a bad guy! He's my cousin andheonlydidwhathehadto!"

Tim closed his eyes and didn't answer.

"Thank you, Drake," Jordan said, offering his hand. "I'm sure you can find a new field hand without too much trouble."

Tim shook Jordan's hand and smoothed his expression into a smile. "Thanks, Jordan. Nice doing business with you."

He didn't say that while he knew he could get a new field hand, it wouldn't be Bart. What was the point? Allen may have been a fine field hand, but he'd lied to Tim. He'd betrayed Tim's trust. He was a criminal.

Tim wished he'd never met the boy. It would have saved him from feeling this sick, rotting feeling in his stomach.
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