Disclaimer: I am so stealing the rights to Nightwing.
A/N: Yes, the next chapter at last! This one is beginning to really move the story along to where I want. Also by the request of many of you I wrote in the meeting between Nightwing and Barbara Gordon. So I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks so much for all the reviews so far. They are a wonderful support to continue this story. Please keep feeding them to me. I need them!
Chapter Ten
Nightwing stalked along the tops of Gotham's more run down buildings in one of the shadier parts of the city. It was saying something to call this place shadier than any other area since Gotham was one of those cities that seemed infected all over. No matter how one cleaned up the rabble there were always more. Criminals were worse than rats. They multiplied like the worst kind of plague.
Thinking of which, he smirked to himself, as he heard the sound of running feet.
Below a trio of thugs raced down the alleyway between the building he was walking across and the one opposite him. They were running like the hounds of hell were on their heels, and judging by the close proximity of police sirens he didn't blame them. The smallest of the three was clutching a black bag to his chest as though his life depended on it.
Money maybe? He shook his head. No most likely drugs.
He ran along the edge of the building, keeping up with them easily, as he debated whether or not to step in. The cops were pretty close. He wasn't sure if it was worth the risk. He really didn't feel like getting entangled with the police, but what the hell? He was bored and he still had some time to kill before meeting the Bat kid.
He raced forward, throwing himself off the end of the building. He snapped out his wings and glided down to the ground just in time to cut off his new play mates from their escape route down another alleyway. The three would be drug runners skidded to an immediate halt only a few feet from him.
"What the hell!" the smallest snapped angrily. "Who the frig are you?"
Nightwing rolled his eyes. "I leave for a few years and this is the welcome I get."
"I dunno who you are, pal, but if you don't get out of the way we'll move you ourselves!" Shorty threatened.
"Really? Now that sounds like fun. How about we give that a shot?" Nightwing provoked them arrogantly.
The short one stepped back as he nodded at his two buddies. They exchanged quick looks before charging Nightwing at once. The vigilante sighed in bored irritation. Completely typical. He barely seemed to move before the two thugs were laying on the ground groaning in agony.
"Street brawling tactics don't work on me," Nightwing smirked. "You'll have to try something a little more sophisticated."
Shorty fumbled in his pocket as he back pedaled hurriedly. "Real cute. How's this for sophistication!" He whipped the gun out of his jacket pocket and trained it on the vigilante.
"C'mon. Are you even trying?" Nightwing taunted. He sprang forward into a graceful flip as Shorty shot off a few rounds at the place were he had been standing. He landed with in easy reach of his quarry. He back handed the gun from Shorty's hand like he would swat away a fly. The gun skittered off into the shadows of the alley. "C'mon, impress me."
Shorty stumbled away with a frightened yelp. He frantically searched the alley for anything he could use for a weapon. He snatched up a rusting metal pipe and brandished it like a sword. "Don't play with me!"
"I'm waiting to be impressed," Nightwing shot back in a mock annoyed voice. He stalked toward the short thug with a predatory smile. He easily dodged the few swings Shorty aimed at him. "That's it?...To bad. Good night, Shorty." One powerful uppercut laid the thug out flat. He watched in amusement as the short drug runner crumpled to the ground. The rusted pipe clanged against the concrete after it fell from Shorty's now limp fingers. The pipe rolled and came to a stop against his boot. He toed it onto the top of his foot before kicking it up into his hand. "Pathetic," he remarked to himself as he stared at the pipe.
Yes, pathetic. Worthless. Kill him!
Nightwing jerked as if he'd been struck. The voices were back–louder and with a vengeance. He shuddered as soft hysterical laughter flitted through the back of his mind.
Worthless. Worthless! Kill him! Kill him!
The pipe was raised above his head, preparing to strike, before he knew what was happening. His vision began to darken as the voices urged him on, growing louder and more excited. A furious light radiated out from Nightwing's masked eyes as a feral smile spread across his lips..A moment later the pipe began to descend in a swift lethal arch.
B.A.T.M.A.N.
Barbara growled to herself as she chased after the three drug runners with her gun in hand. She was getting to old for this crap. The sting had gone down perfectly until these three had managed to get away with the drugs they had come to find in the first place. Part of it she admitted was police incompetence. They had a rookie on the sting operation in hopes of breaking him in. Instead, he'd managed to screw the operation up when he failed to cover the back door properly.
She hadn't waited for the others to get in their cars and follow. By then those three might be long gone. She may be old but she was still in good shape and she could still run fast. She knew she wasn't far behind them. She could barely see them just ahead down the length of the alley. She lost sight of them as they ran around a corner but not for long.
Her steps faltered when she heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting then the sound of a voice she had not heard in years. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone was taunting. She knew it couldn't be anyone else. No one she had ever met sounded quite like him when he was being arrogant.
She raced around the corner and skidded to a stop at the sight in front of her. Here was the living proof of everything Bruce had told her and the theories Terry had spoken of. Nightwing was well and truly alive, but what she was seeing horrified.
Nightwing stood with his back to her. The three thugs she had been chasing were sprawled out unconscious around him. The one clutching the drug bag lay at the vigilante's feet oblivious to the danger he was in. Nightwing stood over him with a pipe raised up in both hands, beginning to strike.
"Stop right there!" she shouted in the cop voice that came so easily now. She was glad her voice didn't betray the well of emotions she was fighting to keep in check. She felt sick to her stomach at the sight of what her once dear friend had been about to do. She had to remember that she was a cop first, and an emotionally hurt woman second. Nightwing had been a friend, but this man before her now was not acting like the Nightwing she knew. He was dangerous, and the most terrifying thought of all was that he might attack her. She couldn't afford to slip up now.
His grip tightened on the pipe as his shoulders tensed. She knew the signs of trouble from him. He didn't even flinch when he heard the weapon charge. He moved as if to run and stopped dead when a bright laser shot breezed by his ear. The resounding discharge of the weapon echoed down the alley deafeningly against the surrounding silence. He spun around swiftly, pipe raising up in an open threat, and froze. The fierce glare that had been on his face melted away when he saw her. Their eyes met and it was all she could do to keep the gun steady.
"Nightwing," his name slipped off her lips like a prayer.
The rusted pipe in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter. He looked around him in surprise as though he hadn't realized what he'd almost done. His eyes came back to meet hers though, searching hers with desperation. She felt tears prickling her eyes as she begged God that he would recognize her. It had been so long, Lord, so very long and the sight of him was tearing at her heart.
Please, know me!
Understanding flashed through his eyes. "Babs?" he whispered disbelievingly, unconsciously taking a step forward.
She swallowed hard, willing her voice to work, but no words would come. It felt like someone had seized her throat and was squeezing it tight.
"Halt right there!" one of her officers voice shattered the charged air.
Nightwing glanced at her one last time before vanishing into the shadows faster than an eye blink.
"Where the hell did he go?" the officer snapped, whipping his head around trying to peer into the shadows.
"It's no use. He's gone. Get some back up over here so we can get this sorry lot handcuffed and on their way to jail," she snapped crisply.
The officer hurried to comply. The Commissioner was angry and he wasn't sure how he had caused it but he wasn't about to stick around for it.
B.A.T.M.A.N.
Nighting only stopped running when he knew he was far enough and there was no worry of having been followed. He turned around in the empty alley to gaze back the way he had come. He knew he would see nothing but he couldn't stop himself from hoping. He knew that had been Barbara. The voice and face were older and deeper with age but those eyes. God, he would know those eyes anywhere. She was the only one who made him felt like she could see right through him and strip him bare of all defenses. Not only that she had called him by name with familiarity that was more than just passing knowledge of a long missing vigilante. No that had been Barbara Gordon beyond any doubt.
She had changed though–not just from age. She seemed harder from the horrors life had forced her to suffer through. Was part of the weariness and sorrowful his fault? He felt his heart clench at the thought. He never wanted her to suffer because of him. It was not just the harder expression on her face but the way she had held that gun unwaveringly at him. The warning shot had been close enough for extreme discomfort. There was no doubt in his mind that she would have shot to kill if he remained a threat in her eyes. She was all cop now. Cops couldn't afford to be prejudice in who they shot that was dangerous–whether they were friend or not.
He felt something in his gut twist at that thought. Would she have killed him with out a second thought? Would she put him down like a rabid dog if he went out of control? He shook those thoughts from his head. He would find a way to stop what was happening to him. He wouldn't give anyone an excuse to shoot at him.
He had to go meet Batman. If anyone could help him now it would be Bruce and that kid as much as he hated to admit it. He never wanted to look down the barrel of Barbara's gun again and know that in her eyes he was a threat. He had to end this before it went any further. He turned and began to run down the alley once more in the direction of the old theater.
B.A.T.M.A.N.
A group of four kids strolled down the back alleys on their way home from the store. They were in no hurry to get home before curfew. They were laughing and chatting animatedly about this and that. They passed by a recycling bin, and the only girl in the group snatched up an old newspaper with a picture of Batman on the front page. She smoothed out the wrinkled paper and stared at the picture in fascination.
"'Becca put it back. You have enough pictures of Batman to wallpaper your whole room with them," a boy, who was obviously her brother, said in exasperation.
Rebecca ignored him. "You ever wonder what would make a man turn into a crime fighter like Batman?"
One of the other boys shrugged. "The guy's probably mental. Why else would you run around beating the crap out of people when you have the police to do it for you?"
"The police can't handle everything, Nick," 'Becca rolled her eyes.
Nick shrugged. "Then you get S.W.A.T."
"My mom has a thing for the old Batman. She says that he was the true hero of Gotham City ," the last boy, Josh, finally spoke up.
"There used to be a whole team of those Bat-freaks at one point, right 'Becca?" her brother asked.
'Becca gave him a dirty look. "They aren't 'Bat-freaks,' Chris. And yes there was a team of them."
"Wasn't there four of them altogether?" Josh asked.
'Becca nodded. "Yeah, and you get a cookie if you guess who all four are."
"That's easy," said Chris, and then began to count them off on his fingers. "Batman, that kid Robin, Batgirl," he wiggled his eyebrows, "and that Nightbird guy or something like that."
"It's Nightwing, genius," 'Becca corrected him.ྭྭ
"I saw a picture of that Batgirl chic once. She was hot," Nick put in and grinned.
Rebecca rolled her eyes.
"My mom thinks they are all dead now," Josh remarked.
"Why do you have to be so morbid all the time?" 'Becca asked him. "Who says they're dead?"
Chris shook his head. "If the old Batman is still alive he would be just that…old. The rest of them all just seemed to have disappeared. Who wants to think about that? It's depressing."
"So they are probably all dead," Nick said, smugly.
Chris ignored him. "Why does it matter anyways?"
"It's just speculation," 'Becca pointed out.
"It would really suck if they were all dead," Josh said.
There was a moment of solemn silence.
"Maybe they aren't," a new voice broke in from above them.
All of them looked up and their jaws dropped open in shock. Nightwing was staring down at them, from his perch on a fire escape, with an amused grin on his face. No one said anything, they just gapped at him. He waved his fingers at them, demurely, before turning away and jumping to the top of the roof. A moment later he vanished into the shadows of the night.
Nick licked his lips and looked over at the rest of them with a stupid smile. "Well, I guess they're not all dead after all."
The rest of them gave him disgusted looks.
B.A.T.M.A.N.
Batman waited tensely on the roof of the old theater where Nightwing had said to meet him. He wasn't sure why he had come. He was really not in the mood to get threatened again. Still, he knew not all of it was Nightwing's fault. Scarecrow's drug had a pretty powerful effect on him. How would he know, until it was to late, whether the drug was affecting Nightwing or not when he got here? He shifted uneasily, waiting nonetheless for Nightwing to come. He couldn't turn away when it was Nightwing who had asked him to come.
"I'm glad you decided to come," Nightwing's voice floated out from the shadows. A moment later the rogue vigilante seemed to appear onto the roof.
How does he do that? Batman thought. He studied the man before him now like he had been unable to before. Nightwing really wasn't much bigger than him. In fact, he was willing to bet they were around the same in height and weight. Right down to looks, he realized, the two of them were very much alike. Even in their suits of pure black the only big difference was the symbols on the chest and the masks. But Terry had worn that Nightwing mask once when the Batman suit had been out of commission after a nasty fight. He hadn't really stopped to think about the man who had owned. Now that man was standing in front of him. A piece of walking history that had not aged, but dangerous history none the less. (Epi 4 season 2)
"What did you want?" he asked curtly, keeping his distance.
Nightwing watched him keep a wary eye on his movements. "You don't have any reason to be afraid of me. I won't attack you."
"I'm not afraid," Batman snapped, irritably. "Pardon me for not being so trusting of a man who's threatened to kill me twice already."
A flicker of regret and helplessness flitted across the other's masked face. "I'm sorry."
Batman felt guilty for letting his quick tongue get away from him again. Nightwing had not come here to hurt him and it had never been his intention to do so now, or at any other time. He had done what he had to defend himself and when he didn't it was because he could not help it. He relaxed, and nodded. "How could I miss a chance to meet one of the old Batman's legendary partners?"
Nightwing snorted, but smiled. "Not that legendary. I haven't done anything to earn that title."
"Oh yeah, being the Boy Wonder for years and getting to fight along side the old Batman, and then later doing a disappearing act for thirty years is nothing," Batman rolled his eyes.
Nightwing shrugged and sat down on one of the buildings many broken heaters. "I did what I had to and the last was more of an accident."
Batman looked unconvinced.
"I was surprised to find that this theater was still standing, especially with that new theater just around the corner. This place was broken down when I was a kid," Nightwing steered the conversation safely away from him for the moment.
"I guess you didn't notice the sign then. This is a historical building now. I think the city plans to renovate it eventually," Batman told him.
"That makes me feel old," Nightwing muttered.
There was a awkward silence before Batman broke it.
"So what is this all about? I'm sure you didn't come here to have a heart felt chat with me," the younger hero remarked.
"Let's stop playing games then, shall we?" Nightwing crossed his arms over his chest. "You obviously know who I am and I know who you are. I need to get in touch with the Boss and the fastest way to do that is through you."
"'The boss.' That's an aptly chosen nickname for him," Batman grinned, but sobered at Nighwing's unimpressed face. "Alright, what am I supposed to tell him then?"
"I need to speak to him urgently about something that involves me. Something is seriously wrong and I need his help," Nightwing replied, clenching his fists.
Batman raised his eyebrows in surprise. He wondered how hard it had been for the older man to say that. "We already have some idea of what's going on."
"Then you know this needs to be dealt with quickly," Nightwing snapped.
Batman put up his hands in a surrendering gesture to placate the older vigilante. "How is he supposed to contact you?"
"He won't, I will. Tell him to meet in front of Wayne Corps. at five tomorrow evening," Nightwing smiled and stood up.
Batman looked baffled. "So that's all?"
Nightwing gave him a look that he thought only Bruce used, the "you obviously weren't paying attention" look. "What did you expect?"
"Maybe a reason why I should even bother to give him the message after you tried to kill me twice. Or even a nice please and thank you would work," he replied sarcastically.
"You're going to do it because it's your duty to do so when someone asks it of you," Nightwing replied silkily, before adding. "Please and thank you."
Batman crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled. "What a pain. Doing one's duty gets to be a real chore sometimes."
"Don't lose hope now, kid. You've still got years of crime fighting ahead of you," Nightwing smirked.
Batman gave him a cynical look. "There goes my bright future. My mother will be furious."
"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good," Nightwing pointed out.
"You mean my life will be sacrificed for the greater good," Batman shot back.
Nightwing chuckled. "Welcome to my world. I could get to like you, kid."
"Gee, thanks."
"So now if you are done complaining, I think I will take my leave."
"Oh sure, go ahead. Be my guest," Batman replied, snidely.
"Thank you...really," Nightwing turned and melted back into the night.
Batman touched the side of his head near the microphone pick up. "I'm assuming you got all of that."
"Yes," Bruce answered quietly.
"So what do we now?" he pressed.
Bruce was silent for a long moment. When he did speak again the answer was simple. "We wait."
B.A.T.M.A.N.
Be a responsible reader and review! C'mon guys I wanna reach a hundred! gives pleading look
Anyways, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It gave me a little trouble at first. I'm still not entirely satisfied with it but what the hell. If I tried to keep fixing it I would have never posted it. So I'll just have to put up with it. ;)
The next chapter will be up shortly. I promise. I just gotta clean it up and make it presentable. :D See y'all for the next chapter!