Chapter 4

Even considering how bad the homeless situation was in Gotham City, it still took a brave man to try and set up anything that wouldn't become a breeding ground for drug dealers and the more underhanded of the city's criminal elements, especially in one that was still recovering from the horrors of No Man's Land four years earlier. St. Lucy's House of Mercy was one of only five services for the downtrodden that had survived both of them, and the only one that had not taken, directly or indirectly, any contributions from WayneTech. in order to be founded.. It was true that Dick Grayson very actively participated in its services, but few knew how much trouble he (and his alter ego) had gone through to keep the thing running on its own.

If anything, Dick kept to a stricter schedule than Bruce (being younger meant he required less rest) and most of it centered around all of the shelters. However, because of his history with Father Henry, the man behind Saint Lucy's was, with the exception of Bruce Wayne, the most important person in the young man's life.

An Episcopalian minister, Henry's wife had been manager of concessions that the circus that Dick had been born into. Close to most of the people, Henry had presided over the funeral of Grayson's parents, and had taken interest in Dick even after he had ended up in Bruce's care. Though Dick had never told him about his alter ego, he was pretty sure that the man of faith knew what he did with his nights. And even though they had often disparate views upon the existence of God and the nature of man, they cared for each other a great deal. Whenever Henry wanted something, Dick didn't hesitate to help.

That was why today, the first time in a while he had nothing to do, he was working the soup kitchen line, hoping like hell none of the scared, bleary-eyed men and women he'd help protect in the nights before would recognize him in the relative light of day.

"You must relieve yourself, Richard."

Despite repeated requests, Father Henry was the only person allowed to call him by his full first name. "I've been in the bathroom in this place before, Father," Dick said. "Besides, I don't need to go."

"Very literal, as always." Henry walked up to him. "You've been ladling for nearly an hour. It's time to let Conrad take a turn."

"Father, you know that Conrad makes the people uncomfortable, staring at them," Dick argued.

"And you don't do that on occasion?" the minister said with a raised eyebrow

"I can't help it that I put people at ease," Dick said, half in jest.

"Now we know why that is, Richard."

Suddenly, Dick wondered if he was being serious. "Why?"

"Because you're the model of good Christian faith," Henry said in apparent innocence.

Not for the first time, Dick wondered if the father was trying to subtly get him to reveal one of the only things he had kept from him over the past few years.

"Are you trying to get me to come to Mass again?" he asked.

"I never interfere with someone who has temporarily misplaced his devotion," the father said. "I leave such things in the hands of God, and trust that he will know when to help guide a man back to where he's supposed to be."

Had Batman been doing this, he would have been more resentful. "And where should I be?"

"Near the entrance," the father said. "A young lady is asking for you up front. Says you know what this is about."

Dick didn't ask for more. Based on the language his one-time father-confessor had been (though witty at times, the good father abhorred puns), he knew who it was. Though he had to admit, he was curious as to why she was here.

There she was, standing just outside the doorway, wearing a slightly more restrained (but hyped up for almost any other woman) ensemble. And leather pants. What is it with the women around Bruce and leather...?

Grayson stepped to the doorway, leaning on the doorway. "Faith, I realize that you've had problems with morality, but you're not a vampire and this isn't a church," Dick gently pointed out. "Lightning will not strike you down if you cross the threshold."

Faith smiled slyly. She took a quick hop across the threshold into the building, and back out again immediately after. "You think I don't know that? When you're in my line of work, you have to know where your church is. I don't have a problem with them. Priests are a different story."

"Really?" Dick raised an eyebrow. "They harass you about your sinful ways?"

"Actually, the last one I had anything to do with beat the shit out of me, gouged out a good friend's eye, killed a bunch of innocent schoolgirls, and tried to bring about the end of the world."

Even though he had known her almost a year and a half, Faith still had the capacity to surprise him. "And I thought I grew up in interesting times," he said, only half in jest.

He meant to bring a smile. It didn't. "There's a reason the Chinese think that's a curse. My childhood was lousy. My teenage years blew rancid chunks. Only in the last few years has my life been downgraded to interesting." She gave a small smile that was filled with pain. "Want to trade?"

Dick was curious, but... "As much as I'd love to start swapping stories and who has the background that sucks more, I'm guessing this isn't a social call—you're here in daylight. Given the hours you keep, and the job you hold—"

"You mean why here instead of the streets?" Faith looked at him. "To be honest, it's a multi-part activity. First, I didn't completely come just to talk. It's time for me to restock. Father Henry was more than willing to do the benedictions over my water supply."

This was, in fact, a matter of private conflict between Faith and Bruce. As part of the continuing war against vampires, Bruce had arranged for WayneTech to begin a series of business deals with the Vatican in order to receive access to all of the crosses, holy water, and other blessed objects to help. It had therefore come as a great shock to Bruce when Faith had told him that he could use whatever supplies he liked, but she was going to act locally. "I'm not having any of that Da Vinci Code shit anywhere near me while I'm doing my job," she'd told him. There had been an argument about it, but Faith had stood firm.

Up until now, Dick had assumed that she had gotten the majority of her supplies from Los Angeles; now it seemed that she had been even more local than that. "You are aware that Father Henry is—"

"I know what he does," Faith told him. "However, considering that you were willing to vouch for him means a lot more than whatever he has around his neck."

Not for the first time, he wondered about the abuse that so obviously was in Faith's past had come from, what traumas had made her the Slayer she was today? Then again, considering all the oddballs we have as superheroes who do this for fun—paging Oliver Queen—she might not be that traumatized. If Ollie's to be believed, he and Black Canary have sex more after a night out on the town, breaking heads, than otherwise. I guess she's not that strange... sort of... Psychology of relatively normal people wasn't his forte, and now was not the time to ask. "What are the other reasons?"

"When I last talked to you a couple days back, you told me that there had been an increased amount of concern among" she made an encompassing gesture "your people. Now I'm pretty sure that's a sign that our girl Drusilla is making inroads into this particular group of citizens. Now while I am generally five-by-five in the wee hours of the morning, I know that most people aren't, and this is particularly true with the people you help, no offense—"

"None taken." Dick added, "Most of them are all right, but some of them do have problems with reality."

"That's why I'm here," Faith said. "You know these people. I don't. Even if I did, I've never been the kind of gal people confide in."

"Wait a minute. You think I am?" Now Dick was almost amused.

"You're here, aren't you?" Faith remarked. "And you may have a good relationship with the priest, but that can't be all that it is. Otherwise, you wouldn't be working so hard to protect them in the first place."

"You're a better observer than you give yourself credit for," Dick admitted.

"And now that the thunderous applause has ended, how about you guide me through this? If it's all right, I think we should start with the people who are a little out there."

"It'll take sometime to get the right information," he told her.

"Maybe, but from what I know of Drusilla, they're the kind of people she'd start with."

Faith had left out one little bit of information from her stories on Drusilla: even though it appeared that she was permanently detached from what was going on around her, she had an eerie hyperawareness of not only what was going on in the immediate vicinity, but in a lot of other places as well. The same could not be said of many of the people she and Dick talked with. They had decided to eliminate many of the more elderly people, because Dru, like a lot of other vamps, liked it best "when her food was fresh," as Spike had once said. However, that did eliminate a lot of people in the shelter. They talked with the elders anyway, but quickly found that they had almost nothing consequential.

They finally hit paydirt when they found a brother and sister in their late teens who, in comparison to a lot of the people in the shelter, were pretty healthy. They both had a full set of teeth, neither their faces or clothes were that filthy, and they seemed to be eating the soup with relative vigor. It wasn't until a little later that Faith realized that the problem was not collective, but limited to the brother, who seemed all right, but, every so often one side of his face would twitch, and his eyes would flicker over to one side.

"Try and be tactful," Dick said under his breath

"Hey, I've learned how to be diplomatic," she point out.

Dick said nothing to this, just very briefly raised one of his eyebrows.

"Haven't seen you here before," he started casually.

"That's because we usually have money," the woman said harshly. "We only eat here if things on the street are slim."

"Forgive me for saying this, but neither of you looks like the kind of person we usually see around here," Dick said slowly.

"What, now only the old and minorities can be on the street? Our parents all said we'd break new ground; I guess they never thought we'd have to sleep on it too." The woman's voice got even harsher.

"Nice tact," Faith muttered, as she gently pushed Dick to the one side. "What's wrong with your brother?"

"What makes you think there's anything wrong with him?" the woman said angrily.

"It's all right, Beth." The boy spoke for the first time. "There are a lot more people who have things a lot worse than I do."

"We don't have to talk to strangers," Beth told him.

"We're not children anymore, and we're the ones acting odd, not them." The young man swallowed the last of his soup. "My name is James Stephens, and is my sister Elizabeth. The reason you haven't seen us before is because this is our first time here. This is all pretty new to us."

"Where do you normally live?" Faith asked.

"The Crawford Motor Inn." This was one of the cheapest motels in the low traffic section of Gotham. "But we don't get the next benefit check until Friday, so we're trying to economize till then."

Faith nodded a couple of times. "Your parents know about this?"

"Father divorced when we were still in junior high," the sister spoke up. "We couldn't find him even if we wanted too, not that he'd help us. Mom—" Beth swallowed. "Mom died in a freak accident with a barbecue fork a year ago."

"This was before Gotham admitted that it was powerless over," now Faith lowered her voice, "vampires."

"The cops wouldn't investigate, so there was no report filed, so the insurance company only gave us half benefits after Mom died," James said slowly. "Unfortunately, a few months, there was a complication."

"Sounds your life was complicated enough," Dick said gently.

"That's just my brother being the master of the understatement," Beth countered, though she now seemed a little less angry. "See, even though our Dad disappeared, he left a gift behind. Both our grandfather and our uncle suffered from schizophrenia, and about two years ago, James had an episode."

"Now you're being modest?" James sounded almost amused at this turn of events. "I put my hand through the window of a crosstown bus. They would've have thrown me in jail, and the police weren't exactly friendly to us before. The legal fees ate up half our money, the anti-psychotics took a lot more, and before we know it, we can't make the rent."

"That sucks," Faith said. "That's just really shitty of the world to lay all this crap on you."

Though Dick was inclined to agree with her, he still didn't know why Faith had honed in on these two, or what their link was to Dru.

"The streets aren't really that safe, you know," Dick said.

"It's Gotham. They've never been safe," Beth said bluntly. "It's bad enough we have murders, lunatics, and the police on our ass if things get a little disorderly. Now every time we're out on the street, I'm running interference for the weirdest pros I've ever seen."

"What kind of pros?" Faith asked

Beth narrowed her eyes. "Are you with the cops or something? What does this have to do with anything?"

Faith wasn't sure where to go with this. Though her profile had been a lot more open since she had come to Gotham, she still wasn't comfortable with letting strangers in, and it was clear that even though they knew about the vampires, they might not have heard about the Slayer, and an ex-con at that.

Fortunately, Dick who had been doing this longer than she had, smoothed things over. "There've been a lot of people who've gone missing over the past few weeks," he told them. "She's trying to help stop the one behind this latest problem."

"Those people are dead or worse by now," James told her. "How can you possibly help them?"

"Because right now, I'm the only one who can make sure that they find any kind of peace," she told them.

It was the right thing to say. "This woman, maybe she wasn't a pro, but if she wasn't, she was the strangest one I've ever met—granted, that's a small number." Faith just nodded.

"Now, I'd never seen her before in my life," James told them, "but this woman, she kept talking like she knew me. Kept saying I was her little lost lamb, and that the stars told her I would supposed to be with her. Really weirded me out."

While Faith managed to keep a straight face, internally, she cringed at the details. And a great big Aw, crap came to mind.

"Doesn't sound that strange to me," Dick gently suggested. "Not for Gotham."

"Except that when I first started having my episodes, I thought—" James paused "I thought that the stars were talking to me."

Dick was starting to get a sense of the picture. "How long has it been since you had an episode?"

"About a month," James responded. "Last check we got came in two weeks ago. I've been running low on meds since then."

"When did you first see this chick?" Faith asked.

"A few days after he ran out," Beth told them. "Since then we've seen her a couple of other times."

"Did you ever see her when you weren't living on the street?" Dick asked.

"We didn't tell her where we live," Beth countered, "we're not idiots. But this Goth chick, she somehow keeps finding us."

"You ever see her talking to other people?"

The siblings nodded. "Several. Mostly older folks," Beth told her. "But we can't raise it with any of them because we aren't around often enough."

"Where and when did you see her last?"

James thought for a moment. "Two days ago, the eastern end of Walton Street."

Faith nodded again. "I gotta say, I've seen a lot of people with a lot of bad problems, and I don't think I've ever met someone who's dealing this well with them."

"I'm glad that this is your Barney moment here."

"Beth." James put his hand on the shoulder. "The insurance for my prescription only gave me a week's worth at a time, and we have to basically from now until Friday with about fifteen dollars."

"So you've been on your meds—"

"—the last three days."

Faith considered this. "You're probably too proud to take charity, and I'm not the kind of person who would give it," she told them. "However, I hope that you'll take some advice." Both of them nodded. "Stay away from those areas you hung out in. Stay indoors as much as possible. And if by some chance you see that woman again, run as fast as you can, and get as far away from her as possible."

"She's really worse than the other stuff on the street?" Beth asked.

"Don't try and find out," Dick said.

Beth and James both nodded. Then, almost reluctantly, Beth spoke up. "We're not that proud."

Dick was about to reach into his pocket when Faith put her hand on his shoulder. With her other, she reached into hers, took out a bill and handed it to her. "Watch your back," she said. "And your front."

"I thought that you weren't the type of person who—" Beth started.

"I guess I'm evolving," Faith responded.

"All right, I'll admit that was a little enlightening," Dick said as they had left the safety of the shelter. "But all that tells us is that Dru was here, and we knew that before we came."

"We also know where she'll be the next time she makes an appearance," Faith told him.

"She's going after people who are mentally unstable?" Dick said.

"Did you know that at one point schizophrenia was commonly misdiagnosed as demon possession?" Faith asked. "Or that people with the sight were often considered insane?"

Dick considered this. "You're telling me that Drusilla thinks—" Faith nodded. "But that kind of thinking went out with the nineteenth century."

"Where do you think Dru's been living on the rare occasions that she visits Planet Earth?" Faith told him. "I've had a couple of conversations with Spike. He told me that when she got lonely for other companions, she wanted to find people who weren't all there, who might have her gift. Unfortunately, the only places that she knew where to look for them were local institutions."

Suddenly Dick's blood ran cold. "Have we double checked the security at Arkham?"

"The Bat's been running double shifts the last few days. But you know as well as I do that it's probably still going to be just as easy to break in as it to break out. From what I've seen, that place should just install a revolving door."

"But if she broke the Joker out—"

"What she did to get in to the Chamber of Horrors is light years from what she normally does. Drusilla has been many things, subtle was not one of them." Faith paused. "Until now."

"So that's what she's doing now, trawling the street for fellow lunatics?" Dick asked.

"Young lunatics," Faith modified, "and judging by the way she's been circling around that kid, she's found something that she likes."

Dick looked back. "You sure? James seemed a lot more stable than most of the people on the street. Hell, more than most people in coffeehouses these days."

"There are only two things keeping that kid together: his pills and his sister. Remove them both..." Faith didn't need to finish the sentence..

"So how do you intend to protect them?"

"How? Give them round the clock protection? Put them up in a nice hotel? Our plates—and the plates of everyone in our circle—are full."

Dick considered this. "Then why spend so much time with them?"

"Because Drusilla has James Stephens in her sights. I don't know what her endgame is—fuck, I don't know what any part of her game is—but this boy means something to her." Faith paused. "Which means that she's going to come after him. When she does, we're going to use James to try and find out where she's hiding."

Even though he could see where Faith had been going with this, it still stuck in his craw. "You mean use him as bait?"

"I touched James on the shoulder, and gave them the money, so I could place microscopic trackers on them. Andrew and Barbara will be watching for their signals at the Clock Tower. We'll be able to track them, and hopefully will be able to locate them when Drusilla comes back for them."

Dick was starting to get a little angry. "You know, I would've been more than willing to keep an eye on them myself."

"Your self-proclaimed charge is to take care of all the downtrodden, not just ones you've met and empathize with," Faith reminded him. "Besides, Dru could do a lot more damage among your people before she gets back to those two, and we both know it."

"They're your people, too," Dick argued, a little less heatedly.

"My people? No. I'm from outta town. Not to mention I've also got the normal vampire traffic, and I have to figure out what the hell Dru is going to do with the Joker before she actually does it." Now Faith hesitated. "Which brings us to one more issue, and I wish I had a more subtle segue into it. But we are dealing with monsters here, so—"

"How do we handle the Joker?" Dick asked.

"I haven't gone to Batman with this, and if you repeat it, I will deny ever raising the issue." Faith hesitated again. Dick was now a little concerned; Faith never thought this hard about revealing anything.

"Bullock said that if, while we were hunting him, the Joker were to go the way of all flesh," she took a deep breath, "he would make sure that there were no repercussions."

Dick wasn't sure he'd heard right, and when he saw that Faith wasn't trying to bullshit him, he was surprised how upset this didn't make him. "Bullock is giving you a license to kill?"

"I think if I were to go off the deep end with another villain, he'd be less understanding," Faith admitted. "But I think that he's reached the same stress point that the rest of us have with this bastard. And I know that you were never thrilled with the idea of putting him up in St. Horace's to begin with."

Dick had never liked Bruce's black-and-white view of crime-fighting (it was one of the reasons he had given up being Robin), but now hearing in the space of ten minutes two very real discussions about the possibility of murder didn't make him feel much more comfortable. And considering the horrible death that the Joker had done to his immediate successor, this was an issue he had strong feelings over. Not to mention what Joker had done to Barbara Gordon...that had induced more than a few fantasies involving the Joker as a pinata hanging in the Batcave. Nevertheless, he was surprised he didn't automatically say: "Kill the bastard."

"Would you be able to?" he asked instead.

"Few years back, I wouldn't have had a problem with it," Faith admitted. "Given the mess he's made in this city, no one would blame me for doing it."

"But?"

"But, one of the reasons I got out of prison, that I surrendered in the first place, was because I understood the consequences of taking a life. I had to understand the cost of my actions."

Dick shrugged. "Bullock seems to be to saying there won't be any."

"There always are; you know that as well as I do," Faith pointed out. "Don't get me wrong, Joker's long since forfeited his right to breathe fresh oxygen, but..."

Again she trailed off. "Maybe that's part of the reason I'm giving Drusilla more time than she's entitled to. Take enough, maybe she'll take the decision out of our hands."

This particular nightmare had been running through Dick's head ever since the Joker had been liberated. "Do you really want to see the Joker become an even greater monster than he already is?" he asked.

"No," Faith admitted. "But I didn't come to this city to become an assassin either, even if it is for everybody's peace of mind."

Dick could appreciate this, too, even if he didn't agree..

"Well, I better check in with Andrew. Tell him we're ready to go."

Dick nodded and began to head towards the streets.

"Don't you still have work at the kitchen?"

Dick shook his head. "Somehow, I'm not in the giving spirit anymore."