Hello lovelies~ Here's my first real multi-chaptered fic! I hope you all enjoy and, if it is your preferred site, this will be posted to my AO3 account of the same name. It will also be posted to my tumblr (Spirit-Of-The-Foxx) if anyone prefers that as well!
Disclaimer~ Young Justice and its characters do not belong to me.
"Grief is like a pit, sometimes you fall in and you wonder if you'll ever find your way from the darkness again."
-Fate
Chapter 1
Blüdhaven
September 13, 2:34 EDT
It had been a few weeks since he had last talked to his team, former team, and even longer since he had left. It hadn't fixed anything. The masked hero flips off of the rooftop, briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning, before crashing down on an unexpecting would be mugger, two others disarmed with glints of red. Those who remained standing whirled to face him, squinting through the downpour for their assailant. But he had already melted into the shadows.
"What the hell was that?" One man hisses, bending to pick up his weapon, the forgotten victim making her escape in the face of this new danger. A Batarang sticks in the asphalt, straight up, in the curve of the trigger.
"I suggest you don't pick that up."
"Shit! It's the Wing!" One of the men shouts, the three still armed firing in the last known direction of the hero's voice. More Wingdings fly out of the dark, clipping the weapons off their course, another man disarmed. A grapple quickly follows the projectile, slicing through the rain and securely wrapping around a lamppost, a bottom press launching Nightwing forward. His foot and fist fly out, knocking out the last two armed opposition. He releases the line, boots skidding in the water slightly from the momentum, soaking his legs.
"You picked the wrong people to mess with tonight, bird boy." The black haired teen turns just in time to see one of the formerly disarmed men not so disarmed anymore, conscious compatriots having already fled the scene, towards flashing lights. He points the gun with shaky, slippery hands at the masked hero, firing. Nightwing whirls, Batarang flying out with surprising speed, nearly knocking the gun away before it fired. Nearly. Nightwing grunts, charging forward and slamming his fist into the man's temple, knocking him out with more force than necessary. He frowns down at the criminals, white eye slits narrowed as blood flows freely from where the bullet had clipped him.
"You should have followed my advice." He hisses, quickly zip- tying the men's hands behind their back and leaves them to the approaching police lights, reclaiming his grapple and firing, flying off just before the cops arrived. Seeing as it was already late, or rather early, and the rain was picking up, the costumed man carefully makes his way back to his apartment. He looks around for casual onlookers before slipping in through the window, hissing as his injured shoulder knocks the pane, a few drops of blood dotting the woodwork. That would have to be taken care of, after the wound itself. He slowly and carefully strips off his suit, mask tossed carelessly across his bed as the bullet wound is exposed, old bandages and an array of bruises covering his chest revealed as Nightwing becomes Dick Grayson.
"You aren't looking so pretty Wingnut." The college student whirls, weapon in hand and arm drawn back only to stop when the intruder was identified, arm falling back at his side. He sighs heavily, turning back away.
"What do you want Barbara?" His voice is clipped and tired, betraying exhaustion. The girl, similarly costumed, though in black, yellow, and muted shades of grey, steps forward, pulling off her own cowl to slip into her own civilian identity, red hair free though damp.
"I- we're worried about you Dick and from the looks of it we have a right to be." She says, setting a gentle hand on his uninjured shoulder. He steps away, letting it fall to the side, without a second glance, pulling out a medical kit from under his bed, sitting on it.
"I'm fine, after all, it's just business as usual right?" She moves in front of him, leveling him with a glare and catching his hands, stopping them in their tracks.
"This," Barbara growls, blue eyes raking up and down the injuries that littered his skin, "Is not business as usual and you and I both know this. You're being careless and stupid. You didn't even see me watching you! It's going to get you killed!" Her voice had picked up unbidden until she was almost shouting directly at him. Shadowed navy meets glistening sky blue.
"That," The word was heavy and dark, uncharacteristic of the formally charismatic man. "Is no longer any of your concern Batgirl." Blood streams steadily down his arm, staining the bedsheets beneath him.
"Dick…" This time, the word was shaky, tears slipping out of her eyes as the blood runs over her fingertips. "You're killing yourself. How could that not be my business? You're my best friend. And what about the rest of the team? And Tim? Bruce?"
"It was a lucky shot. It won't happen again."
"Won't happen again?! Dick look at yourself ! It already happened again, over and over! Wally wouldn't-"
"You don't know what Wally would want, none of us do! He's dead remember? He can't tell us anymore!"
"But you're not Dick. I don't want you to become another hologram… we don't need another Wally. We don't need another Jason…" He rockets up, taking her by surprise and knocking her backwards.
"Get out! " His voice cracks, in the middle but the words are still sharp in harsh, piercing her like daggers.
"Dick I…"
"Out!" Tears blur his vision slightly and she can tell there was no more getting through to him, not today, her own eyes blurring dangerously. She pulls her cowl over her eyes, an attempt at a defense, trying to hide into her persona, the same patented Batcoping mechanism they all used.
"Fine… just stay alive. Remember…. There are people who still love you." And with that and a flutter of her cape she was gone, disappearing into the rain. He stands there for a moment, staring at the open window before walking over, slowly, methodically, and shutting it. Just like that chapter of his life, tomorrow he had work to do.
~Fates