Barbara awoke from a nightmare, bolting upright and gasping for breath.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness (When did they turn off the lights?), she quickly glanced around the cell. The fearful remnants of her dream faded away into her subconscious only to be replaced with true terror as she remembered Dick's condition.

She could barely make him out, sitting propped up against the wall. He was holding her hand weakly.

Wait a minute.

The manacles were gone.

Barbara searched the room more carefully this time, spying two plates of some kind of food in the center. I guess they removed them while I was asleep, but why didn't Dick wake me up?

He would have. Unless . . .

"Dick?"

No response.

She squeezed his hand gently and reached out to nudge his shoulder.

"Dick. Wake up."

Alarmed now, she shook his arm and tapped his cheek firmly. When that didn't work, she moved closer and placed her head on his chest.

His heart still beat, albeit slowly.

She moved up to his face, barely an inch away.

"Please wake up," she whispered.

Tears began to well. She blinked once, sending them on a gentle journey down her cheeks.

Her lips gently brushed his without thinking.

"Please."

His eyes shot open and locked with hers.

A crooked smile and a wink followed.

"Taking advantage of me, Babs? What would the Commissioner think?"

"You're impossible!"

She backed away, both embarrassed and relieved at the same time.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for several minutes.

"So," Dick whispered at last, "What happened to the lights?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Dick shifted slightly, wincing, although he made no noise.

Barbara wasn't fooled.

"Stay still. It looks like they finally brought us some food. I'll bring it to you."

The meal looked disgusting, even though they could barely make out what it was. Perhaps that's a good thing, she mused. Still, hunger was the best spice, and a few minutes later both plates were empty.

"Well, I have had worse," Dick admitted, putting the plate aside.

"Don't let Alfred hear you say that."

"It wasn't Alfred. Bruce cooked once when Alfred went back to England on vacation. Trust me, it wasn't pretty."

Barbara laughed, "I have a hard time imagining Bruce in the kitchen."

"Don't even get me started on what he did to the laundry. He---"

Dick began to cough violently.

She quickly held him by the shoulders, trying to keep him from aggravating his ribs. She was only partially successful, as he heaved up more blood. By the time the coughing subsided, Nightwing was gasping for breath and obviously in great pain.

"Here," she took off her cape and cowl, bundling them together into a crude pillow which she placed behind his head, "Lean back against this."

"I think you missed your calling, Babs," Dick whispered weakly, "All you need is a bedpan to empty and you'll be set."

"Why don't you just be quiet and conserve your energy."

"Conserve it for what? No one's coming for us."

"Don't be so sure. The Justice League will---"

"The Justice League got its ass handed to it," Dick said with as much force as he could. "Besides, no one knows we were caught."

"Have some faith in Bruce, he'll---"

"If I still had faith in Bruce, I wouldn't have left."

They were both quiet for awhile.

Just as she thought he had fallen asleep once again, Dick spoke.

"Why did you do it, Barbara?"

"Why did I do what?"

"Finally leave, after all this time?"

She sat back against the wall, trying to figure out how to answer.

"Don't you think we have more important issues right now?" she finally asked.

"No, not really. This could be it for us. The end of the line."

"Don't say that."

"I'm a realist, Babs. You should be one by now, too. Being around Bruce tends to make that happen to people."

"Why do you hate him so much, Dick?"

Silence.

She was about to ask him again when his voice drifted quietly to her.

"I don't hate him. I---" he swallowed hard, "I guess I just pity him. If that makes any sense."

It does.

"I do, too, sometimes," she admitted.

"Is that why you stayed with him when I quit?"

I really don't want to go there, Boy Wonder. "Yes," she said aloud.

But that wasn't the only reason.

Dick sighed. "That's good."

"Why is that good?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Dick closed his eyes and smiled tightly, as another surge of pain passed through him.

"I thought for awhile that maybe you had a thing for him."

He opened his eyes and stared at her, "Sounds crazy, huh?"

Barbara blushed, thankful that the darkness would keep him from noticing.

"It sure does," she lied. Of course, I didn't realize that until about a month ago.

More silence.

She could hear his breathing. While it was steady most of the time, occasionally it would hitch, and Dick would start to cough again. She could tell he was beginning to fade away.

I've got to get us out of here before he . . .

She refused to complete the thought.

"It hurt, you know." He whispered suddenly.

"What did?" Maybe it she kept him talking, it would keep him conscious.

"When you left me."

"I don't remember it happening that way."

"Fine. When I left," a little anger entered his voice.

"How about, when we went our separate ways?" she teased.

She was rewarded with the barest hint of a smile.

Dick closed his eyes again, breathing uneasily.

"I'm not trying to assign blame, Babs. I just want to come clean before. . . .well, before it's too late."

"Please don't talk like that, Dick. It isn't like you to give up."

"Always the optimist. Must be because you didn't lose your parents."

"I lost my mom."

"I'm sorry, Babs," he said honestly, "I sometimes forget. You hardly ever talk about her."

"I was very young when it happened. As I get older, it gets harder to remember her. Besides, it's not like she was murdered. I can't imagine having to go through something like that. It's no wonder Bruce is the way he is."

"I'm not going to end up like him," Dick said as forcefully as he could. He said it again, as if to convince himself. "I'm not."

"No one's saying you will, Dick."

"But they all expect it, Babs. Hey, look its Nightwing! Batman Junior! One of these days he's going to take over the mantle. Probably move back into the Manor."

"Come on, Dick, some of that is just in your mind."

Nightwing was quiet once again. That last outburst seems to have taken most of his flagging strength.

Barbara reached out to gently stroke his cheek. 'Are you okay?"

"Why didn't you come with me, Barbara?"

His voice was full of pain, only this time its root was emotional.

Now it was her turn to close her eyes and sigh.

"It's complicated, Dick. And it's been over two years. Can't you just let it go?"

"You don't understand," his voice was getting quieter, and she had to strain to hear it, "It ruined everything."

He was muttering now, more to himself than to her.

"I had already bought it. I was waiting for---I was waiting until the time was . . ."

He mouthed a few more words and then his head slumped forward.

"Dick! Dick, wake up!" She gently pulled him towards her, until his head was in her lap. She felt his forehead.

It was cold and clammy.

She checked his pulse.

Irregular and getting weaker.

He mumbled something.

She leaned down. Her hair brushed lightly against his face.

"Please, Dick, you have to fight. Stay with me."

He mumbled again, this time she made out a few words.

". . . the ring. I never gave you the . . ."

Nightwing went unconscious.

Barbara Gordan wondered if he would ever wake up again.