A/N: This is my first attempt at a totally canon story with no OCs what-so-ever (except for the villian, perhaps, but that doesn't count too much). So, it's safe to say that I'm nervous as heck. xP Oh, and if any of you happen to also be reading my Young Justice fanfic, don't worry, I'm still working on that one. I just had more time to write this 'cause I'm actually handwriting it. ^^

Ch. 1: Brutal Awakening

Ring!

A groan escaped Dick as he was stirred awake by the shrill sound of his apartment phone. He opened his eyes groggily and looked at his bedside clock. It was three-thirty in the morning, which meant he had gone to bed about ten minutes ago. It also meant that he had to be up for work in about two hours.

Greeaat.

The phone rang once more and he decided that if it rang more than three times, it was probably important enough.

It was the fifth phone call of the night. If it wasn't the League, wanting him to go to the far off reaches of space, it was the office, wanting him to work an extra shift. Why'd he have to be so awesome?

Dick grudgingly dragged his butt out of bed when the phone rang for the fourth time.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming" he informed the inanimate object as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He picked up the phone mid-ring.

"Y'ello?"

"Took you long enough to answer, Mr. Former Boy Wonder."

Dick blinked as he became more awake at the sound of the familiar voice. "Babs?"

"Brilliant guess, Tights." Why did people always feel the need to give him various nicknames?

"What do you want?"

"Nice talking to you, too."

Dick rolled his eyes, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin. "You're awfully snarky this morning."

He heard a tired sigh on the other end. "Sorry, I've been up for the last couple hours and I'm tired as hell."

Dick held back a comment about his own current exhaustion. "So, why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?"

"Have you heard from Bruce?"

Dick blinked and paused mid-yawn. "Not recently, why?"

"I've been trying to get a hold of him, but I can't seem to get through."

"Alfred?"

"Hasn't heard from him since he and Damian left for patrol."

"Damian?"

"Isn't answering." Shocker.

"Tim?"

"Also not answering." Now that one was surprising.

"Is anyone answering?"

"Yeah, everyone else I called did, but they hadn't heard from them either."

"Even the League?"

"Even the League."

Dick hesitated slightly before his next suggestion. "Did you try Jason?"

There was a brief pause on Barbara's side. "Well, no. Does he even have a communicator? Let alone a phone?"

"You'll figure out a way. There's nothing the great Oracle can't do" he said, managing to grin slightly through the worry invading his gut. He could practically see her rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, well, keep in touch. Last thing I need right now is you disappearing off the face of the Earth. I'm already starting to get a bad feeling about this."

Dick nodded, becoming serious. "Don't worry, I'm on it."

"You need sleep."

"Sleep is overrated."

"Now you sound like Bruce."

Dick rolled his eyes good-naturedly, before saying good-bye and hanging up. He forced his brain awake and quickly changed into costume. He slipped on his mask and was just about to climb out the window when his apartment exploded.

Well, wasn't that nice?

The blow originated from the area where his window was and the force knocked him clear across the room. He crashed through his front door and tumbled into the hallway. He blinked, snapping himself out of the shock, and stood up. He tensed and waited, wondering if the explosion was just some psycho's idea of a dramatic entrance. After a moment, nothing happened.

Then all hell broke loose.

The whole ordeal had taken probably about a second. It was enough time for the neighbors and other residents of the building to finally register the large boom and how violently the building had shaken. This, of course, caused everyone to go streaking out of their apartments, tripping over each other as they scrambled for the stairs. This was New York, and 9/11 was still fresh in everyone's minds. Nightwing was slightly glad, however, that the panic prevented anyone from questioning his presence. As a matter of fact, they barely seemed to notice him as he was shoved to the side. Nightwing had the urge to cock an eyebrow.

Help save the world multiple times, and this is the thanks I get?

He went against the flow of traffic toward the stairs that led to the roof. When he reached them, he took them three at a time. He smirked.

Well, at least they cleared the way for me. Thanks, mass hysteria.

He reached the roof and the cool night breeze ruffled his hair. He could hear the sirens down below as they reached the building.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something shoot toward him and he swung his sore body around just in time to avoid it. As he turned, his eyes scanned over it. It was a folded piece of paper with his name, er, codename printed on it. He took a chance and caught it. When it didn't explode, or release any type of gas, he cautiously opened it. The words were printed and not written by hand. In clear, black letters it read:

You may have gotten away, but resistance is futile.

His blue eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Resistance is futile?" Was this another alien invasion? Nightwing quickly tapped the communicator in his ear.

"Oracle, you there?"

Nothing but static. Nightwing's heart thudded. He wished he could tell exactly which side was malfunctioning.

His wish was granted a moment later when his communicator elicited a long, shrill sound. He cringed and yanked the device from his ear. The sound was loud enough for him to hear even when it was out of his ear. He waited a moment for it to stop, but it didn't. He sighed, knowing this was going to come back to haunt him, and dropped the communicator onto the ground. He promptly stepped on it, effectively silencing the device.

"Alright," he said aloud to the night sky, "time to think."

He took out his grappling hook and shot it out toward one of the taller buildings, before swinging over the streets.

Bruce, Tim, and Damian all aren't answering their communicators, he thought, and someone just attempted to blow me up. Something's obviously going down, and it seems that us Bats have gotten caught up in the middle somehow.

He stopped on top of a tall office building his gaze pointed in a direction he knew well. He could almost see the signal lighting up the sky. If that's the case, then any of the others could be in danger.

The wind picked up and ruffled his hair as he narrowed his eyes beneath his mask. Next stop, Gotham.

A/N: Somehow these always end up shorter than I want. :/ Oh well. Anyways, so, I will admit that I haven't really read any of the comics 'cause my budget isn't the most flexible. xP But I have researched them like a maniac (thank God for wikipedia). So, any advice to help with the characterization will be welcomed. ^^ Constructive criticism about the story in general will also be welcomed, but not flames. If you have something to say, I'm sure there's a nice, polite way to say it. Like I always say, it never hurts to ad a smiley face. :) Hope you enjoyed. Review please! :D