Nightwing's Last Flight?
By
AJ
A/N: This is in reference to Batman Incorporated #8 and #9. If you haven't read it yet, the Bat Clan is in for more troubling times. The Bat Clan and anyone associated with Batman Incorporated have been banned from Gotham City. Batman once again has to operate outside the law. Not everyone agrees with the decision. Two explosions go off at the same time at different ends of the city. Nightwing is caught in one. Batman escapes unscathed from the other, but by splitting up, he chose wrongly.
/
They searched for him all day and into the cold night. It was no use. No one had seen him . . . until . . .
"Oh God!"
His uniform was in tatters, his mask barely concealed his face. His hair was matted with drying blood. And his wounds though they were considered non-life threatening, they were many. He was lucky. There were no broken bones and yet the young vigilante's life signs were slim.
"There is no trauma to the head."
"But where did all this blood come from?"
When they turned him over they saw the extent of his injuries.
"My God, he looks like he's been through a meat grinder. I hope his spine hasn't been severed."
"Careful."
Someone started to remove his mask when a hand stopped him.
"Don't you want to know who he is?" One of the paramedics said. "That way we can notify his family."
"He already has a family. Don't you know who his family is?"
"No, should I?"
"Where've you been working?" The other paramedic asked. 'Never mind."
The paramedic made a call. He didn't believe in what his superiors were saying. Since they had been banned from Gotham, they hadn't been able to handle the load. There were just too many deaths of late, but he knew someone who would take care of things, and he wanted to be certain that the young man got home. Within moments the dark figure that everyone knew, but were forbidden to mention was standing on the roof of a nearby building.
"What on earth?" one of the paramedics stated. "Shouldn't we call the police? He's not supposed to be here."
"He's family."
"Shouldn't we take him to a hospital?"
"And later have him get arrested? Or you try telling the Batman that his son died before he made it to the hospital. At least this way, he could say goodbye."
Minutes later, a dark figure was dropping down to the prone figure that lay in the gurney.
"I'll take him," he said gruffly, trying to keep the emotions from his voice."
"He shouldn't be moved. It might damage his back further. And you shouldn't be here."
Batman turned the prone figure on his side to examine his back. He tried to keep from responding at the damage that he saw. He hesitated for a moment then ran his gloved hand down the your man's spine. He saw a minute response that relieved his fears.
"It's all muscle damage."
"We have to get him to a hospital to stabilize . . ."
The paramedics watched as Batman cradled his son in his arms, shot a grappling hook at a nearby building and was gone.
"He deserves to take his son home," one paramedic said quietly. "They're wrong about keeping you away. After several months, they'll learn to eat their words."
Batman reached the batmobile without incident and within moments. He placed his eldest son in the passenger seat and making certain that he was buckled in just like he did when he was a child. His son though was a grown man, and yet he could not help worrying for his safety. Once Batman was in the car, he hit the stealth mode switch and heading home, he made the call.
"Alfred, prepare for surgery," Batman ordered.
"Master Batman?"
"The explosions yesterday . . ." Batman didn't express the words he had been dreading.
"Explosions?" Alfred's heart dropped to his stomach.
"There were two of them at opposite ends of the city. I . . . I chose the wrong one."
'No!' Images came to Alfred after learning the death of Jason Todd. Then he recalled Batman's first words. Prepare for surgery. "That means he's alive.' With the precision of a man who saw military combat, Alfred prepared the medical bay for triage. Medical instruments were sterilized and placed on a tray. Sedatives and anesthetic were prepared. Bandages and suturing kits were prepped. Everything was ready within a moment as the batmobile roared into the cave carrying its precious cargo. Batman jumped out of the car within seconds after it was parked. He lifted his son out of the passenger side and carried him to the medical bay. He carefully turned him over to expose his back.
"Do what you can," Batman said a pleading in his voice that revealed the emotions behind the mask. It was Bruce who came through, Bruce the guardian, Bruce the friend, Bruce the father more than the rest. And it nearly broke Alfred's heart.
Alfred, however, was not prepared for the devastation that had been done to the young vigilante's back.
"What's happened?" Tim asked as he descended the stairs to the cave. "My God, where did you find him?"
"Go upstairs Tim," Batman commanded. "There is nothing you can do here."
"You should have taken him to a hospital."
"No hospital would have taken him," Batman reminded his butler. "And Leslie Thompkins would have been arrested for harboring us."
"I do not know if I can take care of this much damage," Alfred argued.
"You must. If he dies . . ." the growl was all too clear. Alfred's head would be on the chopping block.
"If he is placed in a coma, he may have a chance," Alfred said. "I . . . please Master Bruce . . . forgive me . . . I . . ."
"Don't mention it Alfred. Just do your best."
Though Bruce feared that maybe Alfred was right. And Alfred's best might not be enough. 'Hang in there Dick. Please don't die. I . . . I lost Jason once. Now I've lost Damian. I can't lose you, too."
Continues with Part 2