"The Gotham Grouchfest" - Part Six

 

Part Six

            Sonia preferred if her TARDIS had been confiscated by the police rather than stolen by total strangers. Gotham City – this version of it, at least – hadn’t exactly welcomed her with open arms. First attempted murder, then blatant racism, and now she could add robbery to the list.

            The news only added fuel to the fire between her and Alan.

            Yet another argument exploded between them upstairs in the manor, specifically within the study.

            “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place!”

            “Oh, so now you’re trying to be my mama?!”

            “I’ve had enough of this insulting behavior of yours, Alan!”

            “So, what? You’re gonna ground me? Spank me?”

            “I never once laid a finger on you, and you know it!”

            Oscar, who just happened to have been in the study at the time (reading a newspaper from his trashcan), even tired of their inconsistent bickering. “Hey!” he called, directing their attention to him. “As much as I enjoy this Grouchfest, you two are disrupting my ‘Me Time’! So would ya do me a favor and scram?!”

            “How ‘bout you scram for once, Oscar?!” Sonia barked back.

            At first, Oscar was outraged by her retort, but he was quickly amused. “Ya know sumthin’, lady? You’re a grouch after my own heart.” Following that compliment (or what constituted as one from a grouch), Oscar retreated into his trashcan, shutting the lid behind him.

            Moving on from Oscar’s interruption, Sonia reconvened her squabble with Alan. “You are acting like a spoiled brat,” she snapped.

            “Oh, yeah?” Alan returned. “This spoiled brat’s gonna kick your...!”

            “ALRIGHT! THAT’S ENOUGH!!” The booming baritone that carried over their voices ended their quarreling almost immediately. They saw a very irritated and furious Skeeta storm into the study to take control of the scene. “Both of you, sit down now!”

            “Listen, man,” Alan defied. “I don’t need to do a thing that you…”

            “Boy, I said sit your butt down!” Skeeta demanded with more force, gritting his teeth and getting right up in Alan’s face. Up until now, he had never seen such ferocity from the man who was his grandfather. The usual warmth in his eyes now had enough fire to make Alan comply, sitting down on a nearby sofa with Sonia.

            “Now then,” Skeeta began with a much calmer tone. “This whole thing between you two has gone on far enough. We are family, no matter what we look like. Personally, I believe we look more like one now than before.”

            “If that’s so, then what was that whole ‘Mr. Harris’ crack all about?” Alan called Sonia out.

            Unbeknownst to him, Sonia had felt guilty about her recent cold-shouldering her own son. She reasonably explained, “I only did that to teach you a lesson in respect.”

            Teary-eyed, a heartbroken Alan retorted, “Well, it worked…because I was scared how much you changed…and I thought that change went skin deep. I thought I’d lost my mama…but I was glad to see I was wrong, when you stopped that scarecrow dude from killing me.”

            Getting teary-eyed herself, Sonia smiled and told Alan, “Oh, sweetie…I still love you so much. I was just hurt that you looked at me differently. No matter what you think, I will always be your mama.”

            Mother and son reconciled in a warm embraced to the satisfaction of a cheerful Skeeta. The tender moment was soon disrupted once they heard what sounded like a TARDIS dematerializing inside of Wayne Manor. The sound brought everyone (except for the other Bruce Wayne/Batman) into the area where Sonia’s Type-Z model appeared. Out of it stepped a man with a goatee, flanked by a team of armed thugs. The domestic Bruce Wayne recognized him: “Ducard.”

            “Hello again, Bruce,” said the man named Ducard. “Let’s dispense of the theatrics, shall we? Address me as Ra’s al Ghul.”

            “Ra’s al Ghul is dead,” the domestic Bruce disputed.

            “You watched a fake die, my friend. The real Ra’s al Ghul stands before you now…or, that is, his face does.”

            The domestic Bruce frowned. “You’re talking in circles.”

            “It’s plain and simple, Bruce,” Ra’s said. “The man who recruited you into the League of Shadows is dead – I killed him and took his face. It was a rather crafty strategy: I told him that I would do what’s necessary for the League’s mission, he trained me, and I took his life. It was deception worthy of the Master himself.”

            Skeeta’s ears pricked at the name Ra’s mentioned. “The Master?”

            “Yes, Father,” Ra’s sneered. “The man who raised me when you refused.”

            It was then Skeeta recognized the true identity of this Ra’s al Ghul. “Christopher?”

            “Who’s Christopher?” Sonia inquired, her head spinning from all the ambiguity.

            With shaky breath, Skeeta told her, “He’s your brother…your twin brother.”

            Stunned by this revelation, Sonia looked on the man who physically resembled Ra’s al Ghul. “I have…a brother?”

            “I’m not surprised he never mentioned me – I’m the little dark secret of the Curtsinger family,” Ra’s belittled. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sister. Although I wish it was under better circumstances.” He nodded towards her TARDIS and added, “Beautiful ship you have. I’ve heard stories about the Type-Z, but never imagined it to be so…majestic.”

            “How did you find it?” Sonia asked him. “How did you find us?”

            “When I discovered it at the docks, as part of the original Ra’s plan for this city, I knew my dear family was here in this dimension and just had to reunite with them…so that I could kill them.”

            Sonia tensed at his threatening claim, standing guardedly in front of Alan.

            “I was trained for this moment by both the Master and the Rani,” Ra’s proclaimed. “I don’t intend to fail them.”

            “Christopher, listen to me,” Skeeta beseeched. “Whatever the Master told you…”

            “He told me exactly what I needed to hear, Father,” Ra’s hissed.

            He proceeded to order his thugs (assassins devoted to the League of Shadows) to advance on the group. Just as they were about to attack, a dark figure pounced on one of them, brutally taking him out. It was the other Batman, who Ra’s was surprised to have seen, having been under the belief that he had but one Batman to deal with in this world.

            A turbulent brawl then ensued in Wayne Manor.

            Sonia and Skeeta assisted the two Batmen in combating Ra’s and his men, while Alfred, Alan, and Erica got the Mystery Inc. kids and the Sesame Street characters safely into Sonia’s TARDIS. It was fortunate that they had, as the fight eventually created a fire in the manor, when Sonia tried to fend against an assassin with a lit fireplace poker – only to have it knocked from her hands to beneath a tapestry.

            As the inferno blazed, Ra’s fled further upstairs with Skeeta pursuing.

            Once he had Ra’s cornered in one of the bedrooms, Skeeta again confronted him. “I’m sorry, Christopher…I’m sorry for the life you led outside the family.”

            Ra’s glared at him. “You can only repent in blood.”

            Suddenly, he drew a pistol, shooting Skeeta right in the stomach.

            Skeeta collapsed at the same time a flaming ceiling beam fell right onto Ra’s al Ghul, engulfing him in the inferno.

            As Skeeta writhed in pain on the floor, surrounded by flames, he could feel his body starting to succumb to the inevitability of regeneration. What good would regenerating now would have done, trapped amid a raging conflagration?

            Just when he lost all hope, he heard his daughter’s TARDIS materializing near him. Sure enough, that beautiful, oversized domino block – a literal sight for sore eyes – manifested in front of him. Sonia and Alan rushed out of it just in time to rescue him from the blaze that destroyed Wayne Manor.

            Once inside Sonia’s TARDIS, she tended to Skeeta’s injures, all while getting answers out of him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that I had a brother?”

            Skeeta winced from the shooting pain in his abdomen, which was soon to go away, along with the rest of him. “I never wanted to involve your or your mother in my old life…not at the risk of drawing attention to the Time Lords. I failed in protecting you all. Rassilon eventually found you…and the Master found Christopher.”

            Sonia smiled with a shrug. “I still turned out alright.”

            Although this reassured Skeeta, he still felt guilty. “I haven’t been completely honest with you – about why I called for your help. There was an anomaly, that much was true. But I already knew Christopher was here, masquerading with the face of Ra’s al Ghul.”

            Sonia was not the least bit angered by this. “It’s O.K., Pop. You bringing us here, and me regenerating for the first time, helped Alan and me work out some things.”

            Skeeta gratefully (albeit weakly) smiled.

            It would be the last smile this incarnation of the Tinkerer would put on. Shortly thereafter, his body exploded with golden regenerative energy to the audience of Sonia, Alan, Erica, Alfred, the two Batmen, Mystery Inc., and the Sesame Street friends. Beneath the bright golden hue, his features morphed from a bald, heavyset middle-aged black man to a young, athletic Caucasian woman with long dark hair.

            After the regeneration was complete, the new incarnation of Aznavorian sat upright, free from the pain of the gunshot wound, which was no longer in her new, well-toned abdomen. “That’s much better,” she said with a new voice that was much higher in pitch than her predecessor’s. Taken aback, her hand touched her slender throat, which was noticeably missing an Adam’s apple (and another chin). “Yeah…that’s gonna take some getting used to.”

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            A couple of days passed since Wayne Manor burned down, Skeeta regenerated into his new body (which he christened with the name “Elle Viane”), and the supposed death of Ra’s al Ghul, a.k.a. Christopher Curtsinger. His body was never recovered from the ruins, which led everyone to believe he was still around somewhere in the multiverse.

            Alan hung out with Elle Viane in the wardrobe room of Sonia’s TARDIS. He kept mostly by the door to give her some privacy as she changed out of Skeeta’s bloodied suit, which was rather baggy on her new body.

            “It was crazy enough having a new Asian mom…now I got a white girl for a granddad and an uncle who wants me dead,” Alan despondently reflected on his recent adventure. “Man, our family is so messed up!”

            “Oh, it’s not so bad,” Elle Viane said from the wardrobe room. “Christopher’s just been fed a bunch of lies by the Master. As soon as I find him, I’ll set him right.”

            “You sho’ set me right, Granddad…Do I still call you that?”

            “Of course,” Elle Viane approved, just as she stepped out of the wardrobe to show off her new attire to Alan. She wore a navy green tight-fitting top and pocketed yoga pants. Alan’s focus was more on her hair, which she had shaved along the sides, leaving what’s left tied into a long ponytail. “What do you think?” she asked Alan with a smile.

            He couldn’t deny how attractive she looked. It took everything in him to remind himself that this was his grandfather he was gawking at. “I think…I’m gonna need some air,” he said.

            Elle watched him rush away, confused. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

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            Outside Sonia’s TARDIS, the two Bruce Waynes bid each other farewell, but not after the foreign Wayne encouraged his counterpart, “Treasure Alfred…he’s all we have left in any world.”

            His advice disconcerted Bruce. “Something happened to yours?”

            “Something almost did,” the foreign Wayne reflected. “But he survived.”

            Detecting the pain in his hardened demeanor, Bruce heeded his counterpart’s advice. “I’ll watch out for him.”

            The foreign Wayne parted ways with his counterpart, heading back inside Sonia’s TARDIS. Just as he entered, Alan walked in and approached Sonia, dressed in another one of her predecessor’s white shirts that was too big for her smaller frame. It again hung off her shoulder, exposing her glistening olive skin. Alan shook his head at her and advised, “Ya know, you should follow Granddad’s lead and find some clothes that fit you.”

            Sonia snickered. “Hey, I put a lot of effort into this look. I’m not just gonna give it up, even for this short-stacked body…at least not for a while.” She proceeded to work the console, preparing for takeoff. “Ready to go?”

            “Yeah…about that,” Alan said, rigidly crossing his arms. “I’m staying here in Gotham with Erica. She’s agreed to let me crash at her place.”

            This news shocked Sonia. “What?! B-But…I thought we were cool now.”

            “We’re still cool, Ma,” Alan clarified. “It’s just…I’ve sorta…”

            Sonia saw how flustered he was, finding the right words to describe how he felt. She knew right away what he was trying to say. “You’ve fallen in love with Erica,” she said it for him.

            Alan sighed. “Yeah…I’m sorry, Ma.”

            “Never be sorry for what your heart feels, honey,” Sonia told him. “It makes me happy to see how much you’ve grown. You both have my blessing.” She sealed this with a kiss to his forehead – which, of course, Alan had to bend down to receive, due to their notable differences in height.

            As such, Sonia departed the realm with Elle Viane, the other Bruce, Mystery Inc., and the Sesame Street friends. Floating in the Infinite DC, she used the TARDIS computer to broadcast a live feed on the console monitor. It displayed Alan joyfully moving into Erica’s apartment, both hugging and sharing a long, passionate kiss. Indeed, they had become quite the couple, much to the contentment of Sonia.

            “See you again, sweetie.”