By far not my longest chapter, but I'm pretty sure it's not my shortest, either. Enjoy, dear readers. Thanks for staying with me this far. I appreciate it. I'm seriously starting to consider posting Dead and Gone, a companion to Lost and Found showing what happens while Dick and Roy are gone (Wally's 'dead').
I need to edit, but I'm debating on publishing it, or having another chapter here going back to their world with likely Barbara's POV. Let me know what you think, readers. Personally, I feel that it would break the flow I have right now, so I'm leaning more towards Dead and Gone than the chapter idea.
On with the story!
DISCLAIMER:
Dick stood on the roof of one of the many buildings in Gotham. The building he was on was taller than most of the others around it, so he had a great view of the city lights. They twinkled below him, shining bright. The sounds of the city surrounded him – the police sirens, car alarms, and occasional shouting.
Somewhere down there a crime was being committed. Somewhere down there, where he couldn't find or help the person. Somewhere down there, there was probably another Babs or Jason or Tim. Here, there was another Jim Gordon.
It was all so familiar. The grime, the familiar grittiness and ugliness of the city. There was the familiar, harsh beauty - beauty that he remembered seeing in his own Gotham – in the twinkling lights, the cars lined up on the traffic bridge, a couple – young and old – walking side-by-side.
Granted, this Gotham felt . . . harsher. Colder. Less . . . friendly? Could any Gotham even by described as friendly? Yet that was what it was. The Gotham Dick remembered from his world seemed lighter somehow. His Bruce was definitely not as cranky.
Maybe because he wasn't alone. If Dick had figured out anything in the few months he'd been here, it was that while this Bruce had the Justice League, he at least felt along. It made him a little sad. Dick was a social person. Being alone was hard for him to imagine.
It was kind of funny. Out of every possible situation he'd been in, being alone was the hardest to imagine. He stared out into the night.
. . . He was starting to forget some things. Dick was getting caught up with life here, with working on the machine, interacting with this Bruce, and talking to Roy and Wallly. The three of them managed to hang out here and there, grabbing some coffee and having movie nights in Roy's crappy apartment.
(That was probably the best part out of all of this. He got his friends back.)
But the other day, he was training by himself (after a frustratingly annoying day of getting nowhere with Chance) and he allowed himself to think about the others behind. It was then that he realized he couldn't recall the exact shade of red of Barbara's hair, or the taste of M'gann's cookies.
He couldn't really remember the exact shade of awful green the couches in the Cave were.
And that freaked him out. So here he was. On a rooftop in Gotham, looking out over the city with his nature fighting his strong desire to give up and despair. To panic. Stop trying to get back. He couldn't bring himself to do it, though, so Dick let his mind wander more.
He closed his eyes and tilted his heads towards the sky, letting out a sigh. A slight wind ruffled his black hair.
It was starting to turn to summer, so the night wasn't as cold as usual. Time seemed to be flying by faster. He wore his Nightwing suit, and his night sticks were in their holsters by his belt. His mind was wandering.
"What are you doing?" The gruff, semi-familiar voice of Batman said behind him.
It sounded familiar but at the same time it wasn't. There was no grudging, hidden undertone of affection. With this Bruce, Dick felt he couldn't get a read on him. He tried to reach him. He liked to pretend he was slowly getting somewhere.
"You're supposed to be patrolling," Batman said when Nightwing didn't respond.
"Just thinking," Nightwing said, annoyed. "Letting my mind wander. That kind of thing."
"Dangerous," Batman grunted.
He came and stood behind Nightwing. The silence stretched between them, but it was the comfortable kind of silence. Dick had no desire to fill it with words. Batman shifted, his cape shifting around his ankles and blowing around them in the slight breeze.
Batman broke the silence. Except it wasn't Batman. Bruce was the one who spoke, despite the cowl being on.
"You've been working hard," Bruce noted. "You need more breaks."
"I've been taking breaks," Dick said, mildly irritated, his slight surprise already gone. "Movie nights with Wally and Roy."
Batman nodded. "And when was the last one?"
Dick went silent.
He sighed, "A couple weeks ago."
Batman frowned. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Do something with them tomorrow night. Otherwise, no patrol." He said.
"What?" Nightwing stared at him in shock. "You can't do that. I'm a grown man."
"I'm making an executive decision for your health," Batman simply stated. Muttering to himself, he added, "And my own."
Nightwing heard it. Comprehension dawned on him.
"Agent A?"
"Yes," Bruce's tone made it clear he didn't want to elaborate.
The pair fell back into a comfortable silence, Dick mulling over Bruce's words in his mind. He really did need another break. Besides, Wally and Roy probably needed one too. Roy might even be doing worse than he was. The archer had left behind a young daughter.
As the first rays of the sun broke over the city, Dick turned around and walked to the other edge of the roof where his motorcycle was parked. Batman followed him. The Batmobile was probably parked in the same spot.
"You know," Nightwing mused, "I think this is the first non-superhero conversation I've had with you."
Batman stared at him.
He dryly said, "We can discuss how you spent the majority of patrol standing on a rooftop. The deal was you live with me; you help protect Gotham."
"Hey," Dick said. He defended himself, "I remember no such deal. It was a slow night, anyways."
The ghost of a smirk drifted across Batman's face. "I think you scared them all away."
Dick rolled his eyes, his heart lifting a little at the smirk. Maybe he was getting through to this Bruce; that was good. The last thing they needed was an evil Batman while stuck in another world.
"That, coming from you."
"I. Hate. This. Machine."
Surprisingly, the words didn't come from Roy for once. They came from Wally.
Wally scowled at the wires that surrounded the tripod and the black box that sat on top of them like some old movie projector.
Roy rolled his eyes. "Get in line."
The two looked over at Dick, who stood hunched over the tripod, tinkering with the black box.
"If it plays that song one more time I swear . . ." Wally glared at it.
"Relax," Dick waved his hand away. "I almost got it. I hope."
Something sparked, and Dick quickly drew his hand away, letting out a small curse.
"So much for almost," Roy remarked.
Dick glared at Roy. "Oh, shut it, Legolas."
"Real original," Roy grumbled.
The three ended up standing around just away from the three tables, and the tripod, which was pointed towards the wall. Dick had been attempting to find the 'signal' they probably gave off that would lead back to their world.
The goal was to establish an audio. From there, figure something out. Obviously, there plan was well-thought out, and very complicated.
"So how have you been doing?" Dick asked Wally.
"Never mind me," Wally dismissed his question easily, "I've been here for a while. I've been through the break downs. And let me tell you, dude, you look like shit."
The last part was directed towards Roy as well. Dick, however, blinked at Wally's bluntness. He tensed slightly, a little wary.
His masked eyes narrowed. "Did Bats tell you anything?"
A moment later, Roy scowled, an annoyed look on his face. "What?"
Wally rolled his eyes. "No. What would Bats have said, anyways?"
A mischievous smirk was on Wally's face. Dick grimaced. Dam. Caught.
"Nothing," He lied, the lie quite obvious.
Wally internally celebrated. It wasn't every day that he won a mini-argument against Nightwing. Besides . . . Bats really hadn't said anything. Agent A did.
"Uh huh," Wally said, "Well, movie night. Junk food and corny movies. Roy's place. Let's go. It's late, anyways."
"Um, what?" Roy asked, staring at Wally.
The corner of his lips twitched upwards as Dick watched the stare down between Wally and Roy.
"You get first pick," Wally offered. "We need a break, anyways."
Roy relented.
"Fine," He smirked as a thought occurred to him. "My little pony it is."
Dick and Wally exchanged a horrified look.
An hour or so later, the three were in Roy's apartment. Roy sat on the couch, while Dick sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. Wally claimed the armchair. Around them were bags of popcorn and candy wrappers, along with dozens of soda cans taking up the coffee table.
Dick watched curiously as Wally go out from his pillow-blanket fortress.
"And now," He said dramatically, "I present the main movie: Nightwing!"
Dick choked, disbelief on his face. "What?"
Wally simply smirked as he pulled out a movie that, sure enough, was titled Nightwing. Roy's jaw dropped, and he said a few words that caused Wally to speed to the bathroom.
He brandished the bar of soap in Roy's face threateningly.
"Don't make me," Wally warned Roy.
"Oh, please," Roy rolled his eyes, "You wouldn't – ack!"
Dick was shocked out of his stupor by the amusing sight of Roy with a bar of soap in his mouth. He laughed, the weight - a bullet proof vest that felt like lead - felt lighter.
Roy spit the bar out, gagging. He gave Wally a death glare as the speedster pranced around the apartment, waving the movie around. Maybe Roy shouldn't have let Wally have sugar.
"The best part is," Wally ignored Roy, "It's a movie about killer bats!"
Dick choked on his laughter, his face turning red as he laughed so hard he couldn't breathe. Roy merely shook his head.
"Unbelievable," He muttered.
Roy lay half-passed out on the couch, exhausted yet unable to sleep. He tossed restlessly from his spot on the couch, tangling himself up in his blanket and constantly readjusting his pillow. Roy heaved a sigh, frustrated.
He opened his eyes halfway and saw Wally passed out in the armchair. Dick lay on his back on the floor, blankets and pillows strewn around him along with things like candy wrappers and popcorn. A lightning bolt was drawn onto his forehead, most likely because of Wally. Dick probably feel asleep first. Roy was half-awake, so the two couldn't get away with pranking him.
They had finally fallen asleep.
Admittedly, Roy found the lack of noise disturbing. He could deal with noise. Lian sometimes cried in the middle of the night. But still. It was too quiet, and he couldn't sleep. So Roy carefully got off the couch, being sure not to go near Dick or Wally. Passed out from sugar comas or not, they were still a speedster and a bat.
Besides, neither of them looked like they were getting much sleep. Roy carefully opened the window to the fire escape, creeping out the window and shutting. He waited a few moments to see if Dick and Wally would climb out of it. When they didn't, he relaxed, and went up to the roof. Once there, Roy sat on the edge, his legs dangling over the side.
It was too stuffy in that apartment. He took a deep, calming breath once he was outside.
The night air was crisp and cool. On the horizon, rays of sunlight shined, painting the sky brilliant pinks and oranges and yellows. Star City was coming alive, the night owls heading back to their homes. Thugs and honest workers alike. Roy stared out at the city.
His thoughts drifted to Cheshire. Now there was a complicated woman. Half the time Roy was sure he was going to wake up and she'd be gone, or he'd have a knife to his throats. He couldn't really sort out the tangled knot of emotions he felt for her, but he felt something.
That something had been strong enough that he proposed. They were married, and had a daughter. Lian was cute, and of course, that was because she took after him. A little . . . violence happy, but he blamed Cheshire for that.
She'd kill him if – when – he got back.
She wouldn't give up on him, he knew. Because he never gave up on her.
"Can't sleep?"
Roy jumped. He turned around, and through the grey haze of the early morning hours he could make out the face of this Oliver Queen hidden under the mask, and ridiculously hat that looked far too like another, more familiar hat for Roy's liking.
Oliver, not Ollie. Because Ollie was back home. With Lian and Jade.
He scowled in irritation.
"GA," Roy greeted him, "You shouldn't be talking to me. I'm a civilian."
Green Arrow waved his hand.
He retorted, "Ah, what's the harm? Pretend I talked you down from jumping off the roof."
The corners of Roy's lips twitched.
"Fine," He agreed, still slightly reluctant. He didn't bother to point out that he wasn't standing on the edge of the roof.
Green Arrow nodded, seemingly content. He sat on the edge next to Roy, putting his bow on his back and sighing as he watched the rays of the sun hit the rooftops, Star City coming alive.
"Pretty, isn't it?" He commented.
Roy gave him a weird look.
"Uh, yeah, sure."
The silence hung between them, heavy and stifling with its weight. The longer it went on, the more awkward Roy felt with Green Arrow only a foot or so away, staring out at the city, occasionally looking at Roy curiously. Oliver stared at Roy like he was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.
He stubbornly ignored the emerald archer, but started a little when Oliver broke the silence.
"So what's up?"
He tried to start a conversation, turning slightly towards Roy.
"Dinah put you up to this, didn't she."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. There wasn't any serious anger in the tone, or any question. There was mostly annoyance, and what Oliver would swear was hidden amusement.
"Dam," Green Arrow said. "Busted."
He let out a small sigh, laughing a little to himself. Roy guessed correctly. Even so, he made no move to get up and off the building.
"So?" Roy asked. "How'd she guilt you into it?"
Hey, if Roy couldn't get rid of the annoying, overly sensitive archer, he could at least talk to the man. And then maybe shove him off the roof; it depended on how much Oliver annoyed him.
Green Arrow shrugged. "She's Dinah. One minute she's being a complete badass; the next, she's in mother hen mode."
"True," Roy said, remembering the times when he was younger and Dinah stitched him and Ollie up.
She could be considerably scary sometimes.
For a moment, the two men tried looking anywhere but at each other. Neither of them could really find anything to talk about, but Green Arrow still wouldn't leave.
"Women," Oliver muttered to himself.
Roy snorted.
"Tell me about it," He said, immediately thinking of Jade.
Apparently he had a weird expression on his face, because Green Arrow smirked.
"What's this?" Oliver teased, "Thinking of a girl you left behind?"
Girls, technically. There was his daughter, Lian, to think about. Like her mother, she most certainly had him wrapped around her tiny little finger.
Roy's scowl reappeared. "No."
Green Arrow nodded, staying silent.
After a moment, "So who is she?"
"Gah!"
Roy glared almost murderously at Green Arrow. Oliver just snickered at him. Eventually, he cracked a smile and laughed at himself alongside him.
"Yeah," Roy spoke grudgingly, "I guess I am."
Green Arrow's lips quirked up. "Oh, really? Now this is interesting. What's her name?"
"Interesting?" Roy blinked. Slightly defensive, "What do you mean by that?"
Oliver rolled his masked eyes.
"I mean," He said, "That this is the first time you're telling me anything about yourself. I'm starting to think Canary was right when she told me the only thing we do is squabble like little children."
Roy snorted. "That sounds like Canary. What did she tell you to get you to talk to me?"
Oliver rolled his eyes. "Something about how I'm an immature idiot, and need to have a 'guy-to-guy' 'partner-to-partner' bonding moment talk."
Bit of an understatement. Dinah had flipped when, towards the end of their joint patrol, she saw Roy on the rooftop. She had generally made him feel like a terrible person in her five-minute rant.
Roy gave Oliver another weird look. It was strange to see a version of Ollie this young. He never thought Ollie could possibly be any more annoying until he met this version.
"But no dodging the question," Green Arrow gave him a stern look. "What's her name?"
Roy tensed a little. A part of him dreaded his reaction.
"'Their'," Roy said, "It's 'their', not just her."
Oliver stared at Roy.
Roy sighed. He explained, "One's my daughter. The other's my wife."
The blond archer choked.
Horrified, Green Arrow said, "You're my adopted kid or something?"
Scowling at the question and the reaction, Roy said, "Yes."
He was very surprised when Green Arrow exclaimed loudly,
"I'm too young to be a grandfather!"
Roy burst out laughing, toppling backwards onto the roof. Green Arrow sat shell-shocked on the edge, a pained expression on his face.
"Stop laughing!" Oliver said defensively, "Next thing you know, you'll have grey hairs."
Roy sobered up, grimacing.
"Especially if I continue being stuck here with only them," He jerked his head to the side, indicating the fire escape that led down to his apartment where Dick and Wally slept.
Green Arrow shrugged. "You have me."
Roy raised an eyebrow. He couldn't stop the small doubt that nagged at the back of his mind, along with the faint traces of amusement.
"Sort of," Oliver cracked a smile, "When we're not screaming and cursing at each other."
Roy shook his head, laughing slightly. His blue eyes shined brightly in the darkness. He carelessly ran a hand through his red hair once more. He looked thoughtfully out at the city, an unusual expression for the normally impulsive, fiery redhead.
"Anyways," Green Arrow said, interrupting Roy's thoughts, "I need to go. It's almost daytime."
He blinked as he realized that Oliver was right. Time had gone by quickly, and without them noticing the shadows had lengthened, creeping across the city and the rooftops as the sun rose higher.
"Yeah," He told Oliver. "Yeah, I need to, too. Gotta make breakfast. D – Nightwing's hopeless at cooking and Wally eats as he cooks the food."
Green Arrow chuckled. "True, very true. Better hurry, then."
Roy and Green Arrow left – Green Arrow shooting an arrow and zip-lining away, while he clambered back down the fire escape. Like before, he tried to make as little noise as possible.
The wonderful aroma of pancakes stirred Wally out of the deep sleep his sugar crash had forced upon him. He groaned, twitching and sitting up. Wally squinted his eyes at the light that streamed through the windows beyond the TV.
He rubbed at the painful cramp in his neck from where he had slept with his head rested awkwardly on the armrest. Wally unfolded his legs, looking around at the aftermath of their movie night. Blankets and pillows were strewn everywhere, along with random bits of popcorn and candy wrappers.
He wiped at his face as he felt something stuck against his cheek from where it was pressed against the chair. He stared at it, and realized that it was a candy wrapper. Wally shook his head in slight amusement. He stood up, running a hand through his red hair.
His normally bright green eyes had dark circles under them and Wally had a dull headache, telling him he didn't get enough sleep. He could probably catch a nap on monitor duty. Or while working on Chance. Roy and Dick would let him.
Wally grimaced as he realized they'd probably prank him with a bowl of water, shaving cream, or something equally stupid and funny. On second thought, that was a bad idea.
Wally managed to stumble over to the tiny kitchen, his foot catching on a blanket. Vaguely irritated, Wally shook the blanket off his foot.
He heard a laugh, and saw Dick leaning against counter, a few pancakes on his plate. Wally would have said something witty, but his stomach growled loudly.
Wally's ears turned red.
Roy, who's back was turned towards Wally, facing the oven, turned around. Wally caught a glimpse of a pancake in a pan on the stovetop, and his mouth watered.
"You didn't wake me up," He accused.
Dick rolled his eyes. "We tried. You wouldn't budge."
He vaguely remembered swatting someone's hand – who had been poking him, as a matter of fact – away. Wally sighed, crossing his arms.
"Still," He said, "Not cool, man."
Roy rolled his eyes. "Relax, man. I have a some ready for you now."
Sure enough, Wally's eyes fell on the stack of pancakes by the small counter space (with a cabinet under it) right between the oven and the fridge. He sped over, hungrily devouring the pancakes.
Later, the three of them sat around Roy's tiny wooden table, plates in front of them with some syrup left over. Glasses of orange juice – and in Roy's case, coffee (he refused to let Wally and Dick have some) by the plates. They sat contently in their seats, looking around at each other every so often.
Wally smiled. He was still a little hungry, despite all the pancakes, but he had a superfast metabolism.
"See," He told Dick and Roy, "Breaks are a good thing."
Dick rolled his eyes. "Yes, you were right. Happy?"
Wally grinned smugly. "Very."
Roy shook his head.
"You two . . ."
There are way too many line breaks. Sorry. This kind of feels like a filler chapter, too, but I wanted to write this, and show the toll being there for so long is starting to take. The chapter practically wrote itself. Nothing really more to say, other than midterms have been painful.
Not painful in the oh-my-gosh, these-are-so-difficult way, but more like the these-are-way-too-long way. They're finally over.
Please review.
