Disclaimer – I don't own Batman vs Superman or Batman Beyond. This was written for the eighth and next to last round not including the sudden death bonus round. For this one we were to write a 2.8-3k one-shot which is a spin off of an existing action movie and it must be fast paced. I picked Batman vs Superman because I felt it was easiest to incorporate my theme of Terry's alternate origin story.
Nightwing Returns
"Terrance Jason Grayson!"
He found himself drawn towards the ruckus upon hearing the shouting of children. No matter how much he distanced himself from his vigilante past, hearing children in potential trouble always drew him back into hero mode. Finding his son in the middle of said ruckus made his throat strain, yet Richard John Grayson heard the disappointed tone of his voice.
His mind flickered to his past, remembering a tone of voice he'd preferred forgetting, particularly since the thought of failure lingered at the back of his mind. In the past, he always found some way to drag himself home, his eyes glued towards the ground, unwilling to look him in the eye only to find himself greeted by silence. Dick found himself leaving Gotham behind completely after that failure.
Deftly, Dick reached out, grabbing his son's wrist as the boy attempted decking the other child again. "Terrance! Stop!"
The boy's head snapped to attention. The boy's robin blue eyes glared at his father in defiance, reminding the man of the person from whom Terry got his middle name. The other children scattered, making the acrobat think back to his own youth with his own father and the scuffles he found himself getting into. Sometimes, he didn't want to remember, yet he found himself thinking of his past right now, in that very moment.
With the agility of a Grayson, he scooped the boy over his shoulder, not caring one bit regarding how Terry started demanding his father put him down, going so far as to refer to him as a dickhead. Dick arrived at the family caravan, his calloused hand reaching out to open the door. He plopped his son down onto the bed, placing his hands onto his hips. The boy's mother looked up from the kitchen where she was preparing food. "What was that about?"
Terry folded his arms across his chest, his lip curling into a pout.
"Terry."
"They said…"
Dick took a deep breath upon hearing the boy grow silent. "Terry. What did they say?"
"They said all vigilantes are criminals."
Dick froze, glancing up at Helena. She continued whatever preparations she was working on, listening to the music over the radio. Taking a deep breath, his attention returned to his small son. "Where did this come from?"
"Everybody's talking about Batman and Superman, and how Batman's super scary, but Superman's some kind of extraterrestrial threat."
"No. I mean your worry that all vigilantes are criminals? Where did that come from?"
"Isn't that why you and mama quit, tati?" The words made Dick freeze.
"He knows." Helena piped up. "He found our old attire."
"How? Not only is that locked up, it's a place nobody would think hid anything."
"What can I say. He's your son."
"He's also your son Helena."
She turned, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear – her current choice in hair color. "With that, you might as well bring up the fact he's their grandson. No, give yourself more credit for once."
Dick sighed, brushing back a lock of Terry's hair. "No. Neither of us quit for that reason."
"Particularly since your tati would jump in and rescue people with or without the suit."
"Then did you quit because you're afraid of Batman?"
"No." Helena said, but Dick said the exact opposite. Terry frowned. A sigh escaped her mouth. "Terrance, if Batman ever crossed the line – by that, I mean killing someone, your tati would personally see to taking him down. When your tati says he's afraid of Batman, he means he's afraid of Batman every crossing that line."
"Why?"
Dick's hand lifted, touching the locket he wore when he wasn't on the trapeze or such. Taking a deep breath, he realizes the time had come to tell Terry about how his Uncle Jason died. Hopefully without touching upon the how Bruce started drinking more after said event, something which always bothered him. "Terry, what I'm about to tell you, you can't tell…"
A news broadcast coming over the radio made Dick still. In truth, the fight likely fueled in part from hearing earlier news of the bomb going off at Superman's congressional hearing and the adults whispering unsuccessfully about what might happen. At first, upon hearing the news of Superman being dead, he found himself wondering if the Batman did this, only to find out the Kryptonian died fighting alongside Batman against some genetic monstrosity.
Sitting beside his son, quickly joined by Helena, he simply felt numb.
NW
He awoke with his back pressed against the wall, Terry's small body pressing against him. When they'd both fallen asleep, Dick didn't remember as he sat up, extracting himself from the tight spot. Even for someone used to getting in and out of tight spots, he couldn't help but feel a tad stiff. The mental joke didn't seem funny, and he rubbed the back of his neck.
A few days passed since the news. Somehow, he managed to go about his business listening to the whisperings, yet today – the day of the funeral – it emotionally drained him. Of course, it emotionally drained everyone and Haly decided a day off to mourn was needed. Dick certainly needed it, even though he never met the man.
Helena sat in the bed they normally shared, reading a book. "Mathew Caleb Grayson or Maryanne Kali Grayson."
"What?"
Her head shot up, her eyes widening. "Sorry Dick. I didn't realize you were awake. This isn't how I wanted you to find out."
"Find out about what?"
"I don't know what Superman's civilian identity was, but his Kryptonian name was apparently Kal-El. Caleb and Kali are similar."
"I am not following."
Helena sighed, closing her eyes. "For someone so smart, you can at times be super dense. Terry's going to be an older brother." Dick stared at the wall, not feeling the excitement he did when she told him she was pregnant with Terry. "I know. Bad timing."
"I need to go for a walk."
"Go as Nightwing."
"You know I gave that up Helena. We gave that up when…" Dick's eyes closed, remembering how Bruce kept Jason's Robin suit around as a reminder of everything evil, while he kept the locket with a picture of his adoptive brother as a reminder of everything good.
"You need this. You and I both know you think best when doing your thing. I'd go with you, but…"
"Someone needs to be here in case Terry wakes up."
NW
Becoming Nightwing again at first felt wonderful. There was a certain feeling which occurred from nobody knowing who was beneath that mask, but upon arriving where he could use his grappling hook, he found shooting up an exhilarating feeling as the air rushed past his frame as he lifted from the ground.
Then came the exhilarating rush of flying, his entire body soaking in the feeling. It was the same feeling he got on the trapeze, and yet there was no crowd cheering, or anyone to watch him make a mistake. He felt his feet hit the side of a building, trying to take his mind off the events. He ran along the side, swinging back out.
Doing a quadruple backflip from the grapple, he landed on the roof of one building before taking a run, diving into a roll before jumping off another building and free falling from the great height. Only, his stomach started to lurch, a nausea he'd never experience sweeping over him. His grapple shot out as a cold sweat encased his body, and he pulled himself up to another roof.
Gagging, he walked over to the wall, panting as his head spun. Images flashed through his mind, his body leaning over. He saw Batman – no, Bruce as the cowl was pulled back, pointing a finger at him, yelling like he often did when he did something stupid.
Then, Jason's smiling face, as the boy did a backflip, making a comment about how that was pretty awesome for someone who wasn't a Flying Grayson, having managed to make two revolutions, with the plan to make a third, something which never, ever happened.
Then came the suit – Jason's, with the yellow words spray painted over the suit. This time he yelled and pointed, but his fist swung, contacting his mentor's chin. Dick closed his eyes, remembering he'd clocked the man he considered father, and yet was that ever their relationship?
Reaching into his suit, he pulled out the mobile Helena made him take with him. He dialed a specific number. When the phone started ringing, he closed his eyes, expecting the number to be changed. "This is the Wayne residence. This is Alfred speaking."
"Alfred?" Dick chocked the words out, almost hanging up at that moment.
"Master Richard?" No angry sounds from Bruce meant the other man was nowhere nearby. "Master Bruce is doing fine, my boy. The question is, how are you?"
"Fine, I guess."
"When will you come home?"
"Alfred, I doubt he'll want to see me, let alone forgive me."
"Forgive you for what? Staying away for so long, or for having a relationship with you know who and not telling him about the child?"
Dick froze, his eye twitching. "For quitting, for quitting because of that. That… for not being able to save…"
"My boy, that was not your fault. If Master Bruce didn't want you home, then why did he make sure to keep the home phone number the same? You know how frequently he changed it in the past when you were in contact because of the paparazzi."
He swallowed, unsure of what to say, when a flashing light appeared in the sky. His eyes narrowed, feeling as if a portal had opened up, letting something through, the loud crash confirming his thoughts. "Alfred, I've got to go."
"Go? What are you off to do, my dear boy?"
"I'm off, surprisingly as Nightwing." Something told him the butler was smirking in the way only Alfred could smirk. He raised his grappling hook, heading towards the location, wondering if anyone else had noticed, or was heading to the scene. As he drew closer, he found himself heading towards one of the urban forests. From the building, he could see the mar left by whatever crashed, and swung down as close as he could get.
Landing on his feet, he looked around. He saw a crater through the dust which was starting to settle. Nightwing's eyes narrowed, knowing he needed to be on his guard.
"Grayson."
Of course, he wasn't prepared for someone to say his real name, which caused him to turn, launching into a spinning kick. He found himself caught off guard by the person catching his leg, only to find himself even more caught off guard upon seeing who the person was. "You…"
"Well, that's not exactly the greeting I was expecting from you Dick."
Nightwing's eyes narrowed, suddenly throwing more kicks at the person as they guarded against his onslaught by crossing their arms. Of course, the young acrobatic knew full well his onslaught meant nothing, but something told him the Kryptonian he saw in front of him could easily toss him aside. "How the hell do you know my name!"
"Come on kiddo." The words made Nightwing cringe, and he found himself throwing a kick at the man's head, which resulted in the person grabbing his foot and yanking Nightwing off his feet. "You figured out my secret identity right after you became Robin."
"That's not possible." The fact he was dangling from the man's hand nor the fact the man was now floating up in the air didn't stop him. He flipped up, bringing his head to slam into the man's forehead, only to let out a groan of pain. "Owe!"
He then felt himself dropped unceremoniously to the ground, only to find a hand reaching down to help him up. "Why is that?"
"Why should I trust someone who's supposed to be dead?" Nightwing nearly spat.
The man continued to hold out his hand. "Didn't you trust this universes Superman?" Nightwing opened his mouth to say something, when the sound of gunshots made him dive for cover. He wasn't surprised when the bullets bounced off Superman's chest, nor was he surprised when the man walked over and twisted the gun out of one of the gunmen's hands. "That wasn't very nice."
Nightwing stood, his attention suddenly turning towards the sound of something mechanical heading in their direction. He opened his mouth to say something but found himself diving for cover as a rather giant robotic spider came out of the woods, it's feet digging into the ground deeply. An unfamiliar face sighed. "Just my luck you'd find him before me."
"You mean Superman?" Nightwing cracked his knuckles, glaring at the man riding on top.
"No, boy. I mean you."
One of the feet lifted and came down, just as Nightwing dodged, only for the second to move faster, almost as if the person expected his acrobatic speed when designing the device. Superman, however, flew towards the robot, stopping the leg. Nightwing narrowed his eyes, wondering what the big deal was, only to turn his head towards the gunmen Superman disarmed.
Every single one was reaching for their disarmed guns, making Nightwing dodge forward. One of the men's guns went off, making the acrobat realize Superman twisted the gun up. The others dropped their weapons, pulling out knives, forcing a sigh from the vigilante. He dodged them with ease as Superman punched the robot backward.
Neither one noticed the man jumping from his robot to one of the trees, at least not until the man stabbed Nightwing with some kind of hidden blade. His eyes opened and closed, feeling like an utter fool as the goons also pushed their blades into him. He heard Superman smashing the robot, before coming over to pummel the men.
He found himself collapsing into the man's arms, his eyes closing. The next thing he knew, he was being lifted up into the man's arms as Superman took off. "I don't know you."
"Stop joking around kiddo. How can you not know your Uncle Clark?" Superman's voice made Dick open his eyes, making him realize the scenery below was rushing past him.
"What…"
"I'm taking you to Bruce. You know how he is when any of your kids get hurt. I mean, after…" Dick tensed, pushing himself out of Superman's arms as the man wasn't expecting it. He found himself freefalling, realizing too soon he didn't have anyone to grab onto. The man dove, catching him and continuing to fly. "Dick, I get that theme in this world may be dead, but surely you know you can trust me?"
"Don't take me to Batman. Please."
"The two of you are on the outs again? How long was it this time?"
"Ten years?" Dick felt the blood seeping out.
"T…" Superman almost dropped him, before changing course slightly. The man said nothing, and Dick found himself drifting off until they landed. He felt himself jarred awake. The sun was starting to rise, but Dick realized he was on some kind of farm.
Superman carried him, knocking on the door. The door opened, but through haze filled eyes Dick saw the woman's face pale. "Clark?"
"He needs help."
The woman disappeared and Superman walked in, only for the man to find a pan slammed into his head by the woman. Dick would have laughed if he was his normal self. "Ma."
"Don't Ma me! You're not my son! My son is dead! I buried him just yesterday!"
"I…" The man swallowed, heading over to the couch and lowering Dick down. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that theme from this universe was dead, died recently. I came here because Dick needs help."
Dick winced, sitting up. "She doesn't know my secret identity."
Clark stared at him. "How can she not? I brought you, Jason, Tim…"
"Tim who?" Nightwing's eyes closed. "Who is Tim?"
"The third Robin."
"There's no third Robin."
"Timothy Drake isn't Robin yet in this universe?"
Dick became angry, recognizing the name. "Timothy Drake died with his parents when the bridge between Metropolis and Gotham collapsed. That was before Jason became Robin."
"Where I came from…" Superman seemed quite upset.
The woman set her pan down hesitantly. "Are you really my son from another universe?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been Superman?"
"I started in my early twenties. Why?"
"In this universe, you didn't become Superman until your thirties." The woman let this sink in as she headed into the kitchen, grabbing a first aid kit. She started helping Dick bandage his wounds, not asking any more questions. She finished, leaving the two to talk, simply saying. "I can't stay here, wondering how many people you could have saved, had we let you be yourself."
Dick wasn't sure what that meant. Sitting next to Superman felt strange.
"I'm guessing you don't know me in this world."
"I couldn't stay in Gotham after…"
"Jason died?" Superman sighed. "Batman needs you."
"From the sounds of it, Batman needs a Robin, not me." Dick frowned. "And why is it that person was after me?"
"As usual, you underestimate your importance. Bruce needs you. What's stopping you two from making things right this time? Jason's death? The fact there is no Robin?"
"Look. I've got a wife and kid. I need to get back to them."
"Are you worried your kid might be the next Robin?"
The thought honestly hadn't ever crossed his mind, yet Terry was the right age. Dick took a deep breath, standing up despite the pain, knowing full well Helena would kill him when he got home. "No. I'm more worried Bruce will kill me once he finds out I knocked up his daughter, to be honest."
The look on Superman's face was priceless, even if he didn't know the guy.
