Our story begins during the fight between Nightwing and Batman from Nightwing (2011) #30. It was the last issue in his New 52 series which was my personal favorite. I really didnt like the whole secret agent thing and as a die-hard Nightwing fan, it just struck me as wrong. I strongly disliked the creative direction DC had for my favorite superhero and I stopped reading comics for a while because of it.

When speculating what lantern corps each of the Bat family members belong to ( Batman-yellow, Red Hood- red, etc). I am WELL aware that Dick would most likely fit in the Blue lantern corps. That being said, I did see on a thread somewhere that one could argue he could be an orange lantern if certain elements of his character were fleshed out.

So, "Desirous" is a what-if/au scenario set in the New 52 continuity that explores the idea of Dick Grayson becoming an Orange Lantern instead of a secret agent. Why does the ring choose him? how would he use it? Will the ring take control of him? And will someone want it back?

This is my first fanfic on FFN and am excited to share this with you all. Once you complete this story, its sequel: Desirous 2 is also available on this site. Should be on the fist page. Questions, comments, and concerns are always welcome!

Enjoy!

-Louis Peter

"Why do we fall, Dick?" Batman scolded his former protégé as he tightened his gauntlets, "We fall so we can learn to get back up."

"No. That's not true." Nightwing rebuked as he ripped the blood-stained mask from his face. "We fall because someone pushes us. We get up to push back..."

To Nightwing, Dick Grayson was alive again. Every emotion he ever held waged war for supremacy in his mind, body, and heart. For a hero who had been unmasked on national television, murdered by the Crime Syndicate, and resurrected by Lex Luthor (of all people), this mental strife was more than welcomed. To Dick, it was much more comforting to feel everything at once instead of nothing at all.

And he wasn't going back, or at least not without a fight. Batman had learned that Spyral, a spy unit working under the UN, had been forming a database housing the secret identities and connections of earth's mightiest heroes. Diana, Hal, Barry, Clark, no-one was safe. Since no one knew Dick had been revived, Batman saw fit to prepare his first Robin for a role inside the espionage group. Nightwing had to prove to Batman that he could fight like he couldn't be captured ever again. Dick had to prove to Bruce that his prodigal son was indeed alive.

"No, I can't do it, I won't do it!" Nightwing screamed as he dropkicked Batman into a control panel. "I can't stay dead!"

"They want our identities" said Batman.

"But, Tim?!" replied Nightwing.

"Our secrets,"

"Alfred?!"

"who we hate,"

"Jason?!"

"who we love,"

"Barbara!?"

"They're looking for who we really are, Dick. And I need you to stay dead to stop them."

Nightwing defiantly rose to his feet. He was battered and bloodied from head to toe, but so too was Batman. Their ideologies have always butted heads, but rarely had they crossed fists. They both knew that this time, one of them had to leave the victor; one of them had to win. If Bruce's words were true, the fate of the Justice League and all other metahumans depended on it.

Nightwing had always been a shoulder to lean on for Superman, The Flash, and many other heroes. He had a way of restoring hope in those who restore hope in us. But in this moment, he could care less about it. The only people running through his mind were those he had previously mentioned. And the pace at which they ran rivaled the speed force.

"No Bruce. You don't need me. You need an accomplice. You always have." Nightwing yelled. He and Bruce had always argued like this. If they hadn't, Nightwing would have never been. If Batman's words could move they'd move Atlantis to Themyscira. But Nightwing was his adopted son; he learned from the best how not to budge.

"You know what Bruce? Why did you need to replace me? Did you honestly care for Jason or did you just need another life to ruin in red and green spandex? If you need someone to "stay dead" you should ask him. He's good at it."

"Jason is selfish, unlike you." Batman said. "I wouldn't trust this with anyone who couldn't give themselves for the greater good."

"So that's why it's always me, isn't it? Because I care about other people? Because I care about their feelings?! Their wants?! Their desires?! Their dreams?! Maybe, you should learn a thing or two from your own job application, Bruce. Maybe you'd understand why someone who actually feels anything at all can't do this."

Batman clocked Nightwing with a right hook that sent him flying into another dashboard. But Nightwing would not stay down. He refused to stay dead.

"I have feelings, Dick," Batman responded. "I just chose not to let them control me. You could be a better Batman than I ever could if you learned to do the same."

"But I don't want to be Batman!" Nightwing screamed back, launching himself at the Dark Knight. "Jesus Christ Bruce, let it go! Damien wants it badly and hell, Tim would be great at it! You only want to force that damn cowl on me because it's what you want! And you know what?! I don't care what you want! I care about what I want. I want to rebuild Haley's Circus from the ground up again. I want to reform the Bludhaven P.D. so that no one in that god-forsaken city loses another life. I want to find Barbara, show her I'm alive, and confess my love to her. All this, I cannot do, as a dead man. I want to live!"

Nightwing leapt to his left and kicked Batman in the throat with his right. The force that hit Bruce's windpipe was almost superhuman. One emotion prevailed in the war for Dick Grayson's mind. His blood had not boiled with rage, but soured with greed.

"Maybe, I want what's yours Bruce. You know what? Maybe I want MY symbol blaring in the moonlight. Maybe I want MY name alone to strike fear in the hearts of criminals. When you're dead, I don't want YOUR legacy as Batman, Bruce. I want MY legacy as Nightwing."

CRASH!

A blaring flash of orange light broke through one of the Batcave's walls. It whirled throughout the Batcave, grazing past every monitor and statue. Finally, it found its way into Nightwing's clenched fist. As he opened it, the light revealed itself as a ring. It was strikingly similar to a Green Lantern's, only orange. The ring began to glow as it spoke to him:

"Richard Grayson of Earth: You want it all. Welcome to the Orange Lantern Corps."