Chapter One

A silence fills the air, a harbinger of things to come. Gotham is never this silent, which means that before long the silence will be broken. Broken by the sound of shattering glass, hurrying footsteps, the sound of a gunshot… or screams.

Anger fills me, threatening to control me. But I can't let it, for if I do… I don't know what will happen. It frightens me sometimes. The fury that courses through my veins. It's not always there. Just sometimes. When I watched my parents die. When I first saw my adoptive father beaten to a bloody mess. Whenever injustice rears its ugly head. Why I feel it now, I cannot be certain. The city is quiet, without signs of the evil that lurks deep within. And perhaps that is why I am angry. Evil fills this city, my city, but I don't see it, which means I either can't find it or it is waiting to strike. Or perhaps I am simply paranoid. Perhaps, for once, I can rest, at least for a little while. My eyes close. A sound touches my ear and a rueful smile to my lips. Of course I can't rest. There is no rest for the wicked and therefore none for those who strive to stop them. My eyes open and focus on a place not far distant. Leaping from my perch, I fall into the darkness below.

From the shadows strode a dark figure. Nightwing surveyed the scene and his eyes narrowed. A dumpster was completely turned over, its contents scattered across the ground. Scorch marks blackened several places on the brick walls and there was a long scratch mark across the bricks that led to a knife thrust into a crack in the wall. However, it was what was attached to the knife that had drawn his attention. A card. A card from an ordinary deck. But the image on the card was that of a joker.

"You know him better than I do. Have fought him longer than I have."

The hard lines around the mouth and chin, some of the only features truly visible of the Batman's face, were not only signs of his current mood, but of a lifetime of fighting crime and seeing things unspeakable. However, even colder was the look in his eyes. It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. However, in the case of such a man, the windows were harder to look into; few could stand such a gaze. At the moment, the look of the dark hero of Gotham was even colder as he contemplated his former apprentice and what he had just been told. "The Joker isn't just one of my oldest enemies. He is the oldest."

"I know."

"I've struggled against him for what feels like a lifetime. And yet he always returns."

"He wouldn't if you would finally kill him."

The Dark Knight seemed to loom over Nightwing. Though hardly taller, his presence more than made up for any lack of effect. "You of all people should know not to question my methods."

"Of all people, perhaps I question them the most. Why do you think I left? Perhaps your shadow has been cast too far for too long; you've come to think Gotham can only be protected your way."

"Robin…"

"That is no longer who I am. I've left all that behind."

"And yet you've still returned to ask for my help."

Frustrated, Nightwing turned away, a fire burning in his eyes with a strength to match that of the ice in his mentor's. A hand was laid on his shoulder. His first reaction was to shrug it off, but he didn't, his shoulder only twitching slightly. Despite their differences, there was a bond between them that could not be broken.

"I'm glad you came to me. From what you've told me, the Joker was only creating a disturbance. He wanted you to know he was back. And if he is arrogant enough to announce his presence, then he has a plan."

Nightwing snorted. "The Joker? A plan?"

"He's insane, but he's not crazy."

Quietly, Nightwing laughed. It wasn't an entirely pure laugh, free from darkness and the cares of the world, but it was a laugh all the same and it warmed his mentor's heart, though his scowl never flickered for an instant.

"So if the Joker has a plan, I guess that means we have to have one too."

Batman nodded. "We can't go in blindly. You know what that means."

"Reconnaissance and detective work."

The Dark Knight turned to go, but paused. "Don't get caught."

Nightwing resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I can handle myself."

There was a moment of silence before Batman reiterated his statement. "Don't get caught." Having said this, he disappeared into the darkness without a sound.

"Son of Gotham," Nightwing cursed softly under his breath. "He still thinks I'm a kid."

Passing a hand over his eyes, Nighwing took another look at the city below from his vantage point on a crane attached to one of the skyscrapers. Exhaustion threatened to force him to quit for the moment, but he fought it off, preferring to stay out despite all that had already happened this night. If the Joker was laying out plans, doubtless insane plans, but plans nonetheless, then innocent people were in danger; Gotham was in danger.

This is my city. My city is in danger.

He had found out long ago that he could only fight the limits of his body when he reminded himself of what was at stake. Oftentimes when the night was still and nothing stirred and he wanted to go home for the night, he would remind himself why he had to finish his patrol. Why he was awake every night. For darkness hates the light and will hide from it at all cost.

And so he continued his patrol, searching for some sign of the danger that faced Gotham. However, it seemed that for now evil slept and Nightwing had to as well. It was primarily by rooftop that he traveled, however, he couldn't get where he was going without utilizing another method as well. Quietly, his dark boots hit the rooftop one after the other as he ran towards the edge of the building, the side facing an alley. Leaping over the edge and tossing a grappling hook, Nightwing plummeted toward the ground below, falling faster than the rain that had begun to pour moments before. The rope abruptly halted his descent and he allowed his hand to slide along the thick wire until his feet touched the pavement. With a flick of his wrist he detached the hook, and with another small movement of his hand, he caught it as it fell. As he walked, he rolled up the rope and reattached the grappling hook to his belt. The darkness that filled the alley would have been too much for most people to see in, but Nightwing had been born, raised and trained in darkness and so it was of little consequence to him to find his motorcycle where he had left it. It wasn't exactly his, but his adoptive father surely wouldn't have wanted him to leave with nothing. Light shot through the pouring rain accompanied by the sound of an engine revving, then falling silent as it was put into stealth mode, the headlights also disappearing. Nightwing was but a blur beneath the streetlights as he returned home, his search to be continued the following day.

Thoughts of earlier this day blended with memories of another day, another time, the rain bringing back dark recollections of an insane murderer. The same man, if he could be called such, that once again loomed from the shadows. That time he had been only a child. Images filled his mind, but he resisted, shoving the sights and sounds away. However, he suspected that when he finally slept, his mind would be unable the hold back the memories any longer. Nightwing sighed deeply, afraid that his dreams would be twisted into nightmares of the past.