Disclaimer: Young Justice belongs to Grandon. I'm called Renegade for a reason- I tend to screw the things they make up and twist them to my own amusement. (Although, if you get technical, these characters belong to the original creators- which aren't Grandon and aren't DC. Meaning that in some way… we're calling their fanfiction [this goes for Grandon and DC's current poop]… canon. By that law, everything's canon! )
This isn't mine. I don't want it to be mine.
I lie. I do want it to be mine. But it's not.
Red.
He sees the world in shades of red. It cakes his hands, his feet, his deeds. He hasn't done anything. Yet.
Colors.
He used to see them all. Blue, green, purple, orange, yellow. They were all there. Not anymore.
Gone.
The colors are gone from his eyes. They'll be gone from him completely if someone doesn't do something.
Freedom.
It's all he wants. To be free. To fly.
Hope.
What little light he had in his eyes are gone. The eyes he wears aren't his, but it doesn't change the fact that the light is gone. The hope is gone.
…The hope is gone…
. . . . . .
"You're overwhelmed, Freeze was underwhelmed. Why isn't anyone ever just whelmed?"
- Dick Grayson-
. . . . . .
BLUDHAVEN
MARCH 20, 04:00 EDT
(EIGHT WEEKS EARLIER)
The wind blew softly, pushing various pieces of litter down the dirt infested street. A light rain had invaded the city earlier that day, leaving several subnormal sized puddles. A single streetlight, since all the others had lost their bulbs to various causes, lit up the street, bathing a lone figure in a dim light.
Tall, dark, and muscular, the man seemed like just another thug Gotham's psychos would come to Bludhaven in search of. Bleach blonde hair, bright green eyes, along with sharp and pointed features marked him as a handsome man. But the look those eyes possessed gave off several warnings that would keep crooks away.
No, the dim light may have made the man seem thuggish, but James Vance was everything but it. Just by getting a good look at the clothing James wore, you would instantly know he was not the type psychos could hire with the promise of hookers and bimbos.
Unlike Bludhaven's other thugs, James possessed Kevlar. The same type the Bats and Flashes and other superheroes used, no less. The Kevlar wasn't made in bright colors with bright symbols standing out, though. It was simply Kevlar- black for his pants, grey for his long-sleeved shirt. The Kevlar had additions, though. Pockets and an empty holster were strapped to his right leg, and what looked suspiciously like a knife was edging out from his left boot. Pockets covered the black vest he wore over his shirt.
No, if a psycho had any plans on hiring James, they would need to be able to pay more than the small cost hookers laid themselves out for.
The only thing out of place on James would be the backpack he carried. He didn't sling it over his shoulder. He carried it in his left hand. And as he looked around the street (making sure to look up), still standing in the dim light, James set the bag down. He opened it and removed a few items of somewhat interest; A few pictures and news clippings, a dark grey mask much similar to a ski mask, but without holes for the eyes and mouth, a pair of gloves, them being black, and a dark grey sweatshirt with the word 'RENEGADE' printed in bold red letters.
James slipped the papers into one of the pockets on his chest. He then put on all the articles of clothing, making sure that the sweatshirt didn't catch on any of the pockets. The backpack was then swiftly tossed away, and James was on his feet walking towards the warehouses on the water.
He made it to the warehouses quickly. He didn't stop to look and see which warehouse he was needed in; he simply knew where to go.
James was immediately greeted with a quiet, "Kaldur?"
The voice was soft and feminine, but with a tongue ready for quick retorts. But before James could say anything, another voice spoke. "Yes." This voice was deep and held a tone that expected authority. James smirked. His turn.
James stepped out of the shadow that had concealed him. Three very different people greeted him. He knew each and every one of them by name, and trusted them more than anyone else in the world. For a moment, Wally and Artemis stared at him with wide eyes. Kaldur remained stoic. James allowed the silence to continue for a few moments.
Then, he removed the grey mask, revealing his features. Their expressions didn't change. "Ah, damn," He said suddenly, "Forgot I'm still wearing the charm." James reached under his sweatshirt and removed an item from his neck. The item looked suspiciously like dog tags; only the chain was long enough to be removed without undoing the clasp.
James Vance's features morphed. Gone was the green eyed man with a warning filled gaze. In his place, Dick Grayson stood with a slight smile. "Whaddaya think? Think this'll do for the whole bad guy get up?" He asked.
Artemis laughed. Realizing no one had invaded their get together, she allowed herself to sink into Dick's relaxing mood. "Oh, it'll do. And what are we supposed to call you now? Wait," She said, noticing the lettering on his sweatshirt, "I bet you're Renegade."
Dick smirked. "Bingo. I hear you brought me goodies to stuff in all these pockets."
"Pockets?" Wally asked. "What pockets? It looks like you've got some on your leg and boot, but that's it." Dick quickly slipped the sweatshirt off and dropped to the ground. "Oh- those pockets." Both Wally and Artemis let out small laughs, while Kaldur smiled softly.
Artemis then reached for a canvas bag lying on a crate and dumped it on the ground. She bent down and began to sort through the items. "I've got some of the goodies. Kaldur there has more goodies on his big bad ship."
"I thought it was a submarine," Wally interjected.
"Same thing," Artemis replied, waving her hand indifferently.
"No, they're very different-"
"Shut it, Baywatch."
Both Dick and Kaldur smiled. "Alright, you two prepared this arsenal," Wally said, "So you're gonna have to tell us what these things do- just in case, you know?"
Kaldur nodded. "Would you like to explain, my friend?" He asked Dick. Kaldur wouldn't say it out loud, but he didn't know what half of the things Dick had packed did.
Dick shrugged. "Why not?" The three standing men all took positions on the floor with Artemis, trying to get comfortable. Concrete wasn't a very good place to attempt this feat, though. Wally wound up leaning against a crate, Kaldur crouched on one knee, and Dick sucked up his dignity and sat kindergarten style.
He held up two baton like items. "Eskrima sticks- my preferred fighting style. I'll be using more modern American boxing and kickboxing moves, but I'll have these things hiding just in case. They're custom designed to collapse and fit in my knife's handle." Dick removed said knife from his boot. He then removed the knife's current handle, and showed the two circular holes where the collapsed sticks could fit. He placed the objects aside and then picked up a small handgun. There was nothing else the small item of interest could be.
Dick took a deep breath. "I don't like guns. I don't like the idea of using it. But with everything else, I honestly think it'd be out of place. I'll say this right now- I'm going to go to any and every extent to not use this. If it comes down to it, then I will. But for now, it stays in the holster."
-Exactly where Dick put it. He made sure to clip the strap that kept the weapon from slipping out into place. He then grabbed two plastic bags, each holding a different item.
The first bag contained small black rectangles with a hole big enough for a paperclip to fit into on one side. "Cameras. I think all of us have used them at one point or another." The second bag held round pieces of metal revealed to be bugs for catching audio. "If I suddenly get invited to Light meetings, I'll be sure to use these little cameras and bugs."
Dick continued to pick up various items and explain what they did. He had plastic blanks for the gun- "Just in case. If anything, I'll probably use these more than these," he said before holding up real rounds.
He then continued to hold up nearly every form of explosion he could fit in the vest. And if he didn't have a premade explosive, he could make one. He had several metal capsules holding gases that could make them pass out, blinded, or temporarily crazy.
"Temporarily crazy? Do you carry those as Nightwing?" Wally asked.
Dick nodded. "I haven't been graced with the opportunity to use them, though."
He also had cording. The three main types consisted of a cording that blew up when set off, to which Dick promptly explained, "LexCorp makes this stuff. It's illegal, but… well, it's illegal." The other two types of cording were a cording that could send electrical pulses racing through it. "You've seen this thing before. Should be no surprise." He told Wally and Artemis. And the last type of cording was just that. Cording. "For everything from swinging across buildings to lowering treasure into ditches."
There were a few more items- mainly stuff that people didn't realize Nightwing carried, but they weren't as important or terrifying as the rest of his arsenal.
"Dude," Wally said when Dick was done explaining, "I thought you were going undercover? With all these goodies, you look like your preparing to take on Superman and win."
Dick's eyes widened. Then he smirked. Then he held up a palm sized case. When he opened it, the contents glowed green. "Kryptonite. Great. I'll stop talking." Wally sighed.
He wouldn't voice it, but Wally was partially worried. Was Dick… taking this too far?
"When does your ship arrive?" Dick asked, turning to Kaldur.
Kaldur shook his head. "It is here. My crew believes I am discussing payment for your services." Dick nodded.
"I'm done, so whenever you're ready."
"Wait," Wally said suddenly, "Your appearance. You came in looking like Artemis's green eyes brother," He was punched, "How'd you do that?"
Dick held up the tags for Wally to see. "Charm I got from Zatanna. I'll mostly be wearing that thing," He gestured to his mask, "But it doesn't hurt to be prepared." Wally nodded.
All four young adults stood up. An awkward silence filled the warehouse. The reality of what they were doing was real now. Realer than ever. Dick was going undercover, and the chances of him coming back were slim. Artemis lips became a thin line before she hugged Dick. He hugged her back, and quickly Wally and Kaldur joined.
When the hug dispersed, Wally couldn't help but ask, "Whelmed yet?"
Dick smiled. "Yeah," He said hoarsely, "Yeah, I am. You feeling the aster?"
Wally nodded.
"TAke care of Babs and Tim, will you?" Dick asked. Both Wally and Artemis nodded. Then, Dick sighed. "Time to get traught, then?"
Without another word, Dick slipped the charm back over his head. He slipped it under his Kevlar, and again James Vance stood in the warehouse instead of Dick Grayson. He then slipped on his mask, quickly followed by the sweatshirt.
Then, standing there in the warehouse's dim light, James Vance was now hidden by Renegade, just as Dick was hidden by James.
Renegade nodded.
He and Black Manta's son strode out of the warehouse.
. . . . . .
"I'm Wally. See? I already trust you with my secret ID-
Unlike Mr. Darkglasses over here.
Batman's forbidden Boy Wonder from telling anyone his real name."
- Wally West-
. . . . . .
MOUNT JUSTICE
MARCH 20, 04:02 EDT
The silence was deafening.
A feather could be dropped, but when compared to the silence made throughout the cave, the silence the feather made when dropped would be compared to a marching band. The cave wasn't abandoned- it'd probably never been filled with more Team members, but none chose to speak.
They were just all occupied. Some were visibly mourning. Some weren't. Some were simply awestruck at an idea.
Nightwing? Dead? That's impossible!
….But was it really?
After all, the room was occupied by a little green boy who could turn into animals, a teenage girl who could fly and throw boulders, a woman who could make anything happen simply by saying something back words, and a teenager who had a thing on his spine that gave him armor and talked to him. Many others in the room also defied what people thought possible. A Martian! A living Martian!
And yet, each of the many people in the room all thought the same thing.
How could this be possible? How could he have died?
Some thought this with sadness. Others thought it with a surprise. Others thought it with terror.
Those who were terrified had a good reason for their fear.
If the Light could kill Nightwing, then who's to say that they can't kill us, too?
After all, nearly each and every person in the room believed the same thing. Nightwing was the best. That's why he was leader- he knew what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. He was the best at the business and had been in the game much longer than anyone else. He was the silent example of what each young hero strived to become more like.
Sure, they had their mentors and the other senior team members, but Nightwing was… well, Nightwing!
He was human. He didn't need superpowers to show the bad guys who was boss. He didn't know it, but when Nightwing trained them, nearly all the young team members thought the same thing. If I practice this move enough, I'll be invincible like Nightwing!
But tonight, each and every one of them was proven wrong.
Nightwing wasn't invincible. He had a Kryptonite. A water blade through the chest, and you could kill the man the Team's freshmen idolized.
Each of them had questions. What will we do now? Who will lead now? What will we do with his body? What about his family? Does he have a family?
A thought like that jerked many awake.
Did Nightwing have a family?
Many Team members knew about Nightwing's extensive list of ex-girlfriends. A few were in the room the Team had decided would be a good place to mourn. But did he have a family? Were the two Bats sitting in the room his only family? What about Batman?
The conclusion would bring many Team members to a sigh.
They would never know. Nightwing was gone.
They didn't even know his real name…
They didn't even know his real name…
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
Expect these ANs at the bottom of each chapter. That's just the way I work.
First off: I know my name is Renegade and that I'm suddenly calling Nightwing that, but that's pure coincidence… sorta. Renegade, as many of you know, is the name Nightwing took when he went undercover in the comics (before DC screwed them all over). We're dealing with a very similar situation here, so I figure the name fits. The costume is… different… but that's because otherwise, he might as well look like the New 52's Nightwing. And that would basically give away Nightwing was working with the baddies…
That's it. I normally don't make ANs this long.
-Renegade Inspiration
Vivir y prosperar, mis amigos.