On with the story!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
Walking swiftly, Brent entered the room where he found Rickie typing away on a holo computer. He gritted his teeth as he stood there, trying not to scowl, glare, or grimace. Hi blue eyes were stormy, and Brent was fighting the strong urge to hit his head against the wall. First, Damian decides to disappear, and now he's got to talk to her, because for some reason Batman decided he should do it.
He lost the battle and ended up scowling fiercely, but he managed to refrain from hitting his head against the wall. Still, Brent ran a hand through his darker, reddish brown hair, letting out sigh of frustration.
However, without him knowing it his scowl became a small, amused smile the longer he watched her. She looked strangely relaxed despite the fact that she was working, with her dark hair in a ponytail, even messier than usual. A few wispy strands hung in her face, giving her laid back look, strengthened by the fact that she wore a tank top that might've once been white which was covered in grease stains.
He scoffed softly when he realized her mask was crooked yet again, and saw Rickie had only taken off top half of her suit, still wearing the bottom half and Brent saw the top half hanging on one of the chairs like a jacket. Then again, the top half of her suit was like a jacket, made of dark grey Kevlar with a blue bird across her chest, which folded all the way over to attach at an unseen seam on the one side instead of the middle like an actual jacket.
A hidden flap covered it, just like it covered where the top attached at her waist. The result was that her Nightwing suit looked like it was one piece, not two. Rickie had designed the suit so it purposefully looked like one piece. Kind of brilliant, really, but like hell would he tell her that. Brent had no desire to give the woman yet another reason to be irritating. She was irritating enough without him adding to her ago.
He shook his head, trying to get rid of the memories, and snorted at the mess on the table. Her entire work station was a mess with papers scattered randomly on a table, and she couldn't look any less professional in her tank top and half her uniform with the other half of her suit lying haphazardly on the chair. Brent frowned at her in disapproval, though she remained oblivious. He rolled his eyes.
Trying failing not to be annoyed, he remembered the reason he was here in the first place. Brent crossed his arms. He awkwardly stood there as he waited for her to notice him.
She didn't, much to his annoyance.
Brent cleared his throat.
Rickie made a dismissive noise, and waved her hand at him in a dismissive gesture.
Brent rolled his eyes. Rickie was in Cyber Space. He could relate, he went to that place himself sometimes. But, still. Rude.
"R - Nightwing," Brent said.
She made a grunting noise.
"Nightwing," Brent said again, more forcefully.
Rickie waved her hand again.
"Nightwing," Brent put emphasis on her name.
"Hm?" Rickie asked, not taking her eyes of the screen.
Lines of code flashed across her screen, and Rickie was typing ridiculously fast.
"Have you seen the little demon?" Brent asked her.
Rickie hummed in acknowledgement, clearly not paying attention.
Brent pinched the bridge of his nose. He checked to see if the door was closed.
He asked again, "Have you seen Damian, Richille?"
"Don't call me that," Rickie snapped automatically. Then she said, "No. Why?"
"No reason," Brent said.
She stared at him blankly. He fidgeted.
"Bats can't find him." He admitted. "We think he might've gone after Killer Croc."
Rickie spun around, abandoning her computer completely. "What!?"
He blinked at her reaction. "He has us checking other places just in case. He's gone after Croc."
She cursed, and he jumped as she hurriedly snatched her uniform top, putting it on and clicking the hidden buttons and zipping up the hidden zipper on the one side. Without another word to him, she practically ran out the door.
"Okay . . ."
That was it. She hated sewers.
Her leg throbbed in pain. It barely supported her weight, or at least it hurt to put weight on her leg. She leaned against the wall, holding herself up with her arm. Rickie tried to control her breathing.
In.
The stench of the sewage made her gag.
Out.
Her breath was shaky.
In.
Her cracked ribs gave a painful twinge.
Out.
Her breath was more even.
Nightwing's eyes watered a bit because her leg felt like it was on fire, but she knew she had to move. Her skin crawled as she thought about Killer Croc, who was still loose in the tunnels. Nightwing's leg burned a bit more as she thought about the powerful bite Croc had. Due to an unlucky stroke of fate, Croc had bit her leg, and now it was slowly leaking blood. She was trapped in the sewers, and she was trying to find a way out. Key word: trying.
Had she mentioned how much she hated the sewer?
She dragged herself up from where she'd slid down the wall onto the floor, giving her leg a quick look. Nightwing grimaced and looked away. There were bloody puncture marks in her uniform from Killer Croc's teeth, but thankfully no large chunks of her flesh or pieces of uniform were missing. Nightwing kept one hand on the wall, gingerly setting down her injured leg, this time bracing herself for the pain. She removed her hand from the wall, and swayed dangerously.
She stifled a gasp, and gritted her teeth. She needed to get out. Warily, she eyed the wet gunk in the middle of the sewer. She was standing on some tiny concrete maintenance walkway, but it was far too close to the water for her liking. When she found Damian, she was going to kill him. What on earth had he been thinking? She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling forcefully as she hobbled along.
Sadly, her wrist computer was damaged in the fight. Croc had surprised her and dragged her into the water by her leg. She'd kicked him off, but he scratched and his stupidly sharp claws damaged her computer. Just her luck. She'd known things weren't going to end well. Any time it involved sewers and her, it never ended well.
Nightwing nearly shouted with joy when she found the ladder leading up to the sewer grate, some light leaking through the holes in the grate. She still glanced around. Yes, she needed medical help. But Damian. Damian, the idiot, was in here with Croc, who would tear that boy to pieces.
Well, Bruce was also in the sewers looking for Damian, but Nightwing was pretty sure that if Batman found Damian, he might tear Damian into pieces, too. Which left her, because Jason was too busy wallowing in his own problems, Tim hated the kid and hated her, and Steph chose to follow Tim's lead.
She'd searched for Cass, who Damian mentioned once or twice (read: praised. Damian respected Cass. But he didn't respect Nightwing, apparently). She hadn't been able to find Cass. So like a good, caring older sister she went after her (slightly) homicidal little brother who went after Killer Croc to prove himself, or for an equally stupid reason.
All the while trying to avoid Batman, who was after said (slightly) homicidal little brother after the definitely homicidal Killer Croc. Nightwing meant to avoid Killer Croc, but that hadn't gone too well. In her defense, she was rusty. There were no Killer Crocs in Bludhaven who loved sewers (thankfully).
With these thoughts in mind, she gazed back down the tunnel in direction opposite from where she came. She half-hoped Damian would come running down the hallway, preferably without Killer Croc barreling after him, ready to apologize for running off. No such luck. She was greeted with darkness and silence. Nightwing shook her head.
Stupid, stupid kid. But he was her stupid kid brother. Nightwing quickly turned the night vision in her mask off, switching to infrared instead. Croc still had a heat signature. So did Damian. Hopefully this would work. She brought out her escrima sticks, her sense on her high alert as she went quietly walked down, scarcely daring to breath, afraid she would miss something important.
It took some time. The tunnels twisted and turned. During that time, she felt like she was in the middle of a horror movie, at the moment where the scary music was playing and people watching the movie know something bad will happen to the character onscreen. Especially if they're alone. Which she was. Okay, she might be the tiniest bit freaked out. The thought that Killer Croc was running around somewhere here was not reassuring her.
She crept along carefully, and regretfully had to put one escrima stick away to lean one arm on the wall as she walked for extra support. Without it, she felt like she was one slip away from falling into the delightfully nasty water. Nightwing didn't even want to think about what the slime coating the walls was made of. Or, for that matter, what was in the water she took a delightful swim in when she scuffled with Killer Croc. Or what kind of infection her wound could get.
Hurt, tired and growing crankier by the minute, she didn't think too much when she turned the next corner. That proved nearly fatal, because she nearly screamed as she ran into someone, and the someone she ran into nearly screamed. Automatically, she covered their mouth with her hand, noting the significantly shorter height.
Damian.
In return, she felt a hand immediately over her own mouth, preventing her from making noise. Damian put one finger to his lips, and she noticed he was in the black and white uniform again. The white top half was caked in a layer of grime. But he was alive. She had to resist the urge to hug him tightly.
There were more pressing, large scaly matters at the moment.
She nodded, and pried his hand off of her mouth, switching her mask back to night vision. Her blood ran cold when she spotted the line of spikes, just as Croc raised his head out of the water, speaking in a low hiss in an attempt to get Damian to reveal himself.
Nightwing nearly had a heart attack, but luckily his back was to them. She quietly stood beside Damian, both of them frozen to the spot. She noticed his concerned glance at his leg, and the anger that flashed across his face a second after. Brushing it off, she reached into her belt, bringing out a few Wing-Dings.
Croc continued to taunt Damian, trying to goad him out into the open.
Damian gave them a curious look. She mimicked an explosion with a bright flash of light, using her hands to make the explosion, and covered her eyes. He rolled his eyes at her, not able to understand. She closed her eyes briefly. Nightwing jerked her head towards the way he came, and mimed throwing the Wing-Ding.
She mouthed as slowly as possible, When I tell you to go you start running.
Comprehension dawned on Damian's face, and for a moment he looked as if he were about to argue. She glared at him, and Damian swallowed his pride, nodding in agreement.
"C'mon, little pest," Croc snarled, still trying to taunt Damian.
Not very well, she might add, but his horrible taunting bought them time. Soon, however, he'd get bored and start searching. Nightwing debated the pros and cons, weighing the risks. When it came down to it, she trusted Damian to make it.
With her leg, she wasn't sure, but she hadn't broken it. She was able to run, though probably not very well. She would need to run, and fast. Killer Croc fell silent, apparently waiting. She cursed internally. They'd wasted time. He would hear if she spoke. She grabbed the Wing-Ding she needed, ready.
She whispered in Damian's ear so softly her words were nothing more than a breath, "Start running."
Killer Croc roared, whipping around, but she launched the Wing-Ding at him, at the same time grabbing Damian and yanking him around the corner. The close quarters magnified the explosion, and judging by the furious, pained roars the Wing-Ding served its purpose.
She ran, Damian running alongside her, both of them gasping for breath as they ran.
Left, right, right, right, left, left, right, straight, left. They ran on, Rickie remembering the way back.
Corners she'd turned so carefully she now raced around, not bothering to be silent. Silence still fell, and soon she could only hear Damian breathing heavily beside her as they ran. Silence wasn't good. Not good at all. She glanced over her shoulder, and dread filled her as she saw the shape in the water, the yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. She immediately chucked an explosive slightly in front of him into the water. Damian jumped when the explosive went off and Croc roared curses at her.
It was almost funny if it wasn't terrifying. Damian and her ran even faster, encouraged by the promises of a painful death. They rounded a final corner and – there! Street light still shined through the grate, and at the ladder Damian turned to her, gesturing for her to go first.
Nightwing was having none of it.
She grabbed him, and practically threw him up on the ladder. Damian hissed, reminding her of an angry cat. She ignored him, bringing out her escrima sticks and a Wing-Ding as she faced the way they'd come. It took her a moment to realized things weren't silent anymore. She realized there were the sounds of a fight going on, Killer Croc still roaring angrily. The noises were close. But he wasn't roaring at her and Damian.
Of course. How could she have forgotten? Batman was in the sewers. Of course the sounds of an explosion and Croc's yelling caught his attention.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Really, it was the small miracles.
"C'mon!" Damian whisper-shouted.
She made a mad dash up the ladder, way too happy to be out of the sewers. Damian shoved the grate back on, and the two of them lay in the middle of an alley. She stared up at the sky, taking in big gulps of fresh (sort of) city air.
After a few moments, Damian stood up and impatiently leaned against the brick wall. He scrunched up his nose as he saw her continuing to lie on the dirty concrete. A few rats scuttled around in the nearby dumpsters, as if sensing Damian's disapproval and wanting to go far away.
Nightwing didn't care. She was exhausted, especially now that the adrenaline was fading. She would've happily laid there for a good hour, but Damian spoke.
"You should go to Thom – "
"No names in the field," Nightwing said immediately.
She knew who he was talking about without him mentioning the name. The Bat Clan's resident doctor trusted to deal with their injuries from their night activities, Leslie Thompkins. She'd been Bruce's family doctor, and ended up being dragged into it. Leslie and Alfred were a formidable duo. (The woman had to be, she helped Alfred raise Bruce).
Damian huffed, crossing his arms. "I wasn't about to . . ."
She rolled her eyes. "Uh huh."
Now Damian rolled his eyes with more attitude than a ten-year-old should have. She could've sworn he grumbled something about no one even being around, but she let it slide.
Nightwing sighed. "However, you're right. I do need to go see Doc."
She stood, and out of respect for him, pretended not to notice the way Damian hovered. He was worried, though the boy would never admit it. She hid a small smile, ruffling his hair fondly. Damian swatted her hand away, scowling unhappily. Biting her lip, Nightwing thought about it, then smacked Damian upside the back of his head.
"What?" Damian asked, thoroughly surprised.
"Do you know how worried I was?" Nightwing demanded, looking at him accusingly. He blinked, unused to having someone worry over him, though with Grayson he should've expected it. "You're so stupid. Why, for the love of Batman, did you go after Killer Croc?"
He crossed his arms defensively. Damian turned his head slightly away, refusing to answer. She sighed out of frustration and exasperation.
"Hey," Nightwing said, "I was worried. Don't do that again. Do you hear me?"
He nodded. She knew that was all the answer she was going to get for now, so Nightwing hugged him gently. He relaxed, leaning the slightest bit into the hug, before abruptly pulling away. Nightwing hid her smile.
"How did you get here?" Damian asked.
She shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I have my ways."
He sulked, and she laughed, knowing that the lack of an explanation would irk him. Served the little bugger right for making her save his sorry behind.
"Very well then," he nodded, ending the conversation.
The two of them got onto the rooftops, and once on the roof she could sense Damian's hesitation. For all his confidence, he'd never really been out on the rooftops at night. Nor had he had to find Leslie's clinic. In fact, she wasn't sure if Damian ever went to the clinic before. She smirked at him teasingly, and Damian glared at her in return. Dropping the smirk, she rolled her eyes.
"Follow me," Nightwing said.
"Are you certain, G – Nightwing?" He asked.
She could've sworn he smirked when he asked that, not needing to mention how long it's been since she'd patrolled the rooftops of Gotham. She could've sworn that this was Damian teasing her.
Smiling, she rolled her eyes, "Hey, I'm not that old. I've been doing this longer than you, I know a few tricks."
Damian scoffed. "You have taught me your tricks."
She flashed him a blinding smile. "Not all of them. Follow me."
With that, she neatly flipped off the roof of the building, ignoring the pain (after so many years, she had a high pain tolerance). She heard Damian sputter something behind her before he took off after her.
Stopping by the Cave the night after the Croc incident was maybe not the wisest choice. She usually tried to avoid not patrolling for two nights in a row. Honestly, though, she hadn't wanted to patrol, and Leslie did give an order to rest for once in her life. Rickie, admittedly, had a knack for getting injured. It was probably because she patrolled Bludhaven alone.
Probably. She also had a strong desire to finish the codes as soon as possible. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could go back to her old routine. She was broken out of thoughts when the door to her room slammed, a figure panting as he leaned against it. The green shape shifter did a double take when he saw Nightwing standing there looking very surprised in jeans and an oversized green T-shirt.
His face broke into a wide grin. She couldn't get over her shock.
"Nightwing!" Beast Boy said happily, bouncing up and down with excitement. "It's so good to see you!"
She laughed. "Yeah, it's been a while."
Beast Boy frowned, trying to look angry. He complained, "And who's fault is that?"
"Oh, c'mon, BB," Rickie said, "Cut me some slack."
Beast Boy crossed his arms, and shook his head stubbornly.
"No. We haven't heard from you for ages! What happened? If you didn't have to be here, we'd probably spend even more time wondering if you're alive. Cory's about ready to fly over and check on you."
She felt the beginnings of guilt stir within her, and hid her flinch when Beast Boy mentioned Cory. Rickie hadn't left the Titans on the best of terms with Starbolt. He hadn't understood why she needed to go back to Bludhaven, why she needed to eventually return to the Team. He wasn't able to understand.
"Yeah, well, sorry," Rickie brushed Beast Boy's words off, instead asking, "Well, how are you doing? How are the others?"
Beast Boy shrugged. "I'm fine, but I've been busy."
"That's great," Rickie said, making a move to organize the papers on the table. She'd been standing in front of the holo screen doing nothing since Beast Boy came in, and felt a headache coming on from staring at the screen for too long.
"You could always ask the others how you're doing yourself," Beast Boy suggested.
She gave him a look that seemed to be asking him if he was serious.
He sighed. "Worth a shot."
He looked so disappointed, for a moment she thought he'd say something else. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it as he jumped up, a look of realization on his face.
He quickly said, "Well, I gotta go. Cassie's probably calmed down by now. Bye!"
He practically ran out, and Rickie watched him bolt out the door suspiciously. He had that mischievous smile on his face, the one he usually wore after he booby trapped the Titan Tower. She shook her head, figuring she'd find out later. Rickie focused back on the paper mess.
Maybe a little over an hour later, she discovered what, exactly, Beast had been smiling about in the form of a tall, redheaded man, tan enough to be borderline orange with vivid green eyes and bright ginger hair. Ginger air with tan skin somehow worked with Starbolt. It always had.
"Anything else?" Rickie asked Starbolt.
After getting over the initial shock that he was here, and Cory explained the how (Beast Boy ratted her out), he proceeded to lecture her. Since she got no response, Rickie assumed he was done. He was staring at her in relief, and he looked exhausted. She checked the time at the corner of the computer, and saw that it was past midnight. His red hair stuck up on one side, like he'd just jumped up out of bed, and Cory's purple T-shirt and jeans looked rumpled.
"Right," She said, "Well, mmph!"
That last part was because Cory kissed. Just as quickly as he kissed her, Cory pulled away, leaving her stunned.
"Wha - ?" Apparently, she was incapable of speaking right now.
Rickie was also incapable of thinking, because her mind was in a daze.
Cory grinned, but it was more of a smirk. "I've wanted to do that again for a long time, bluebird."
"Don't call me that," Rickie muttered automatically, her face turning slightly red at the old nickname.
Cory mumbled something unintelligible, and he pulled her close, hugging her tightly. Confusion flitted across Rickie's face for a moment, before she accepted the hug. His warmth wrapped around her, and she unconsciously leaned into it, closing her eyes and relaxing.
"It's good to see you again," Cory said, his voice muffled by her hair.
Rickie hugged him back. She realized missed him, which surprised her, because she hadn't realized just how much she missed him until now.
The two didn't quite know how long they stood there hugging one another, wrapped in each other's embrace, but eventually they pulled apart. Cory still kept a hand on her shoulder, as if to reassure himself that she was actually there. Rickie smiled reassuringly at him, if a bit tiredly. She felt drained, like seeing Cory again drained any energy she had left.
Cory tried to take in every detail of her, studying her and noting the differences from when he last saw her. Her hair seemed darker somehow, as if the memory of the midnight black hair had faded, and he had forgotten the precise shade of blue her eyes were. He wanted to rip off her mask to see them, but he knew he couldn't. Rickie wouldn't allow him to, especially since they were in her computer work room at Mount Justice.
The door was shut. He knew that he'd end up using her real name once or twice, but part of him doubted anyone would be around to here it. He looked around briefly, smiling slightly at the work space cluttered with random things. Rickie had a work table covered with papers pencils set off to one side of the room. On the other, there was a beat up green couch facing away from the door. She'd probably dug it out of storage. Something was off, though.
Other than those things, the room had the stale, dry feeling of not being used. It smelled kind of like a new house before it was lived in. Cory wrinkled his nose.
Noticing this, Rickie frowned.
"What?" She asked.
He shrugged. "Just didn't expect you to be in a place like this. It's really . . . out of the way."
Rickie's lips quirked up into an amused smile. His heart skipped a beat. Was she even aware of the effect she had on him?
"It's only temporary while I fix the computer system," She told him.
She was never going to tell him that when she first came into the room, she half-expected to find storage boxes somewhere. Knowing Cory, she knew he wouldn't see the humor in that.
"Yeah," Cory said, "About that, why do you have to do this? Why can't someone else?"
Sometimes, she was left wondering that herself.
Rickie shrugged. "Bats asked, and I can see some old faces. It's been nice, if a little tense."
Understatement, but she supposed things could be worse.
He sighed. "At least I finally get to see you again."
"And the first thing you do is kiss me," Rickie remarked, smirking slightly.
He smirked. "I can't help it. You seem to have this effect on me ever since we first met."
She lightly smacked his arm, knowing he was thinking of their first meeting. Cory had been alone, confused, and dangerous. When she tried to reach out to him, he kissed her and he could suddenly speak broken English. Over time, thankfully, his English improved, but he still had a habit of butchering some words. Rickie suspected it was because English wasn't her first language.
Still, despite the many languages she knew, Cory only spoke English. Rickie yawned, and she shook her head. Cory looked at her questioningly when she grabbed his hand with her own, tugging him out the door.
"C'mon," Rickie said, "I should go, and I'm guessing you don't know the way back."
Sheepishly, Cory admitted, "I may have not been paying the best of the attention when Friend Beast Boy led me to you."
She cursed her own luck. Obviously Brent was here. Obviously he was awake. Of course he'd run into her and Cory at the Zeta tubes. Rickie saw him look at their hands, and she hurriedly let go of Cory's. Cory looked at her, but didn't say anything.
Brent ignored her. He asked Cory, "Who are you?"
Cory answered, "I am Starbolt, with the Titans. Friend Beast Boy allowed me access to your base."
Brent blinked. He muttered something about having a talk with Beast Boy, before clearing his throat and saying, "I'm Knight."
Rickie snorted, shaking her head at how they both used their alias when both of them were wearing civvies, neither wearing masks. Although Cory didn't wear a mask in the first place.
"C - Starbolt, it's time to go." She interrupted their little chat, more than a little annoyance in her voice.
Cory took one look at her with her arm crossed, and then nodded in agreement. "Very well. It was nice to meet you, new Friend Knight."
She didn't miss the lack of enthusiasm with which he said that. Neither did Brent.
"Goodbye, bluebird," Cory said to her, giving her a quick hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She froze, and didn't say anything as Cory entered the Zeta tube and she pressed the coordinates.
"Bluebird?" Brent questioned, looking at Rickie.
Much to his surprise, Rickie blushed. There was no other way to describe it. Except Rickie didn't blush. Annoyed, Brent scowled, something dark and angry stirring in him. His scowl deepened when he remembered their hands locked together.
"Are you okay?" Rickie asked him.
Her forehead was creased in the middle like it always did when she was worrying or thinking. Brent softened at the familiar sight. Then he was able to name the unfamiliar feeling. Jealousy. He was jealous of this Starbolt and Rickie. The notion was so ridiculous, he and Rickie had stopped dating so long ago, yet that was what it undoubtedly was.
"Yes." Brent answered in a terse voice.
Rickie blinked, slightly taken aback by his response. "Oh-kay. I'm gonna go. Bye, uh, Brent."
"Don't call me Brent," He snapped, "Only my friends call me that."
A part of him regretted those words as soon as they were out. Stupid, stupid, stupid; that was too impulsive. Hurt flashed across her face, but it was gone just as quickly as it was there. Her expression hardened.
"Fine, then," She said, "Have a good night, Brandon."
He flinched slightly, but she didn't notice. Rickie had already walked away, and there was the familiar flash of light signaling her departure.
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