Gotham City
That Night
November 10th
"Nightwing! Nightwing, wake up!"
The words from Damian came into Dick's brain little by little. Images followed. A gun, a masked assailant. Then, pain. An excruciating pain that was almost indescribable in its intensity.
The assassin!
Dick came back to consciousness all at once, and he was on his feet, lurching around, fumbling for his escrima sticks. "The assassin!" He mumbled, his words slurred. His eyes searched desperately for his attacker. He had to protect Bruce and Damian – his family.
Strong hands took hold of him. "Nightwing." Bruce's voice, strong and calm, penetrated the fog.
Dick looked at him, dazed.
"The assassin is gone. What happened?" He lowered Dick to a sitting position.
Dick looked up at his father, and then at Damian, who, on his knees next to his older brother, was all concern, his normally pugnacious face twisted in anxiety.
Dick grabbed Damian's shoulder clumsily. "You're okay."
"We're all fine." He heard Bruce's voice from far away, and Dick swung towards him. "What happened?"
Dick shook his head in confusion. It ached like hell. Everything ached like hell. "I – I don't know. I – I found the sniper – with the gun." He reached up to grab at Bruce's arm. "It was a woman."
Bruce frowned. "Did you see her face?"
Dick shook his head. "No. She tried to hit me with the butt of the gun, and I grabbed her, and when I tried to subdue her – she had breasts."
"What happened then? Was there someone else?"
"I – I don't know. I don't think so. She had a – stun gun." He touched the underside of his chin, where two painful burns were. "A damn powerful stun gun."
"It was probably a nano-second electrical pulse, like the ones we use. Wayne Tech makes them for the military."
"Another indication, Father, that this assassin is well-funded or connected." Damian deduced.
Dick rotated one of his arms, trying to stretch out the seized muscles. "Well, tell Lucius they work."
"Tell him yourself." Bruce helped Dick to his feet. "Did you hit your head?"
"I – I don't know." He looked around him, and could hear sirens and see police lights flashing on the street below. "What happened to the bomb?"
Bruce looked at the scene briefly. "A small bomb. Did only minor damage. No injuries that I saw."
Dick nodded. "Good."
Bruce turned to Damian. "Robin, take him back to the car and evaluate him for a concussion, and then drive him to the cave. I need to gather evidence on the bomb."
Damian brightened immediately. "I get to drive the Batmobile?"
"Don't get into any accidents. I think Nightwing has had enough excitement for one night."
"Yes, Father."
Batman turned to Dick. "We'll talk later. Get some rest."
He nodded and they watched Batman jump off the building.
Damian turned to Nightwing. "Can you walk?" He asked, solicitously.
Dick nodded, and put a hand to his temple. "Have you ever been tased?"
Damian shook his head.
"Good. Avoid it if you can."
Gotham City
That Night
November 10th
Devon had never been so desperate to get home. She ran the entire way, even though, at times, she wanted to collapse on the ground – her abdomen was cramping and her head hurt like hell. She remembered the story of Pheidippides, who ran all the way from Marathon to Athens to announce that the Greeks had won the Battle of Marathon before dying of exhaustion.
She did not intend on dying tonight, though.
She thought she heard the text alert on her phone go off, but she ignored it. She had to concentrate on getting home. Her head and neck continued to throb. Nightwing was really strong! In spite of the pain, and the fact that she had been on the receiving end of his blow, she had to feel just a little bit proud of his strength and abilities. In fact, had she not had the stun gun, she would have lost to him – without a doubt. He was very well trained. She almost wished that she could compliment him on his prowess in battle. Oh, well, she would just have to compliment him on his other talents.
She turned the corner to her own street, and a rush of relief flooded her. Once incside, the first thing she did was hide all of her weapons away under the floorboards of her room, and then, taking clean clothes with her, she dragged herself to the bathroom to shower.
Her grandmother came to the door. "Everything all right?"
"Yeah, Grandma. Peachy." She closed the door on the old woman, and slowly stripped her shirt and bra off and lifted her hair to peer at her neck. There was a massive, red welt where Nightwing had struck her with the escrima stick. There was sure to be a bruise there tomorrow. How would she explain that to him?
She sighed. At least she wouldn't have to deal with it tonight. There was no way that he would recover enough to feel up to visiting her.
She pulled off the rest of her clothes, and discovered why she had had such severe abdominal cramps on the way home.
Well, at least she wasn't pregnant. That would please Nightwing. It pleased her, too. The last thing she needed was to get knocked up by a superhero – an anonymous superhero.
And it might buy her a couple of more nights to heal.
She stepped into the shower and allowed the warm water to run over her until it started to turn cold.
Once out, she looked in the mirror again. Yep, there was a bruise forming. Damn strong, sexy Nightwing!
She dressed in pajamas and crawled into bed, intending to pass out. As she was attaching her phone to its charger, she noticed the texts she had missed. They were all from Larry.
What the hell is going on?
Good girl. I didn't know you had it in you.
Take off his mask and get a picture so we can ID him.
What the hell? Look at your damn texts!
Where are you going? I didn't tell you to GO!
You need to go back. You're not finished.
You're obviously not looking at your texts.
I'm not happy with you.
We WILL talk soon.
Devon sighed and erased them all.
Gotham City
Later That Night
Damian helped Dick to the Batmobile, and with a knowledge of driving far exceeding his ten years, he had Nightwing safely away from scene in a matter of minutes. Once several blocks away, he pulled over in a parking lot, and, anxious that his brother might be injured, ripped the mask from Dick's eyes with excess force.
"Ow!" Dick protested. "Leave some of my damn eyebrows on my face, please!"
Damian grasped his chin and shined a flashlight into his eyes. They were equal and reactive to light.
"I don't have a concussion, Dami." Dick gave a small smile.
"No names in the field."
"Well, no faces in the field, either."
He flung Dick's head away, satisfied that he was fine. "You don't have a concussion."
"I told you that. Now let's get back to Bruce."
"Father said to take you home to Pennyworth."
"What can Alfred do? I'm fine."
Damian put the car into gear. "Nevertheless, we are going home."
The drive, thanks to Damian's leaden foot, took very little time, and Dick found himself hustled onto the "minor wounds table" in the Batcave.
"Dear, dear, Master Dick. These burns do look nasty." Alfred examined the raw welts carefully.
"Just a couple little marks, Alfred," he shrugged, ignoring the fact that such an action hurt his aching shoulders. "I'm ready to go back out."
"Hmm." Alfred was unconvinced, and put some topical ointment on them. "How unfortunate that your assailant was able to make contact with the only portion of your body not covered by your uniform."
"Yeah," Dick murmured. "Unfortunate." Lucky break on the assassin's part, that was certain!
"Maybe you should get your face insulated against electrical attacks." Damian piped in.
"Maybe I should cover my entire face with a cowl." Dick smiled wanly.
"I assume it hurt quite terribly?" Alfred asked.
"Until I passed out."
"Yes,of course. Quite. Could you hold your arm out, please, Master Richard?"
Dick did as he was commanded, but, when he attempted to lower it a few seconds later, Alfred insisted that he keep it raised.
"Why?" Dick asked. His muscles were screaming.
"One moment, please." As if on demand, Dick's arm started quivering.
"Ah, yes, I thought so." He began examining Dick's arms and legs, as well as his back. The muscles were bunched and tightened.
Dick was self-conscious. "Ah what, Alfred?"
"Your muscles are still spasming from the electric shock. I suggest you not patrol until they have recovered."
"What?! How long?"
"Two or three days, perhaps."
"Two or three days? Alfred, I'm fine! Look, I'll take the rest of the night off, but, tomorrow night, I'm going out."
Alfred gave him a stern look. "You'll do nothing of the sort, young man! Do you want to fall to your death because your muscles failed?"
"They won't fail."
"Please do allow yourself to heal, Master Dick! You already put yourself at so much risk when you are 100% that to do so while you are not at your best is foolhardy!"
Dick looked at the concern on the old man's face, and then to Damian, who looked uncertain. He sighed. "Fine. I'll stay in tonight."
"And tomorrow."
Dick looked irked, but Alfred would not relent. "Some anti-inflammatory drugs might do well here." Alfred shook pills out of a bottle and gave them to Dick, who took them obediently.
Dick sighed. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."
"That would probably be best."
"Father wanted to talk to you about the sniper." Damian reminded him.
Dick waved a hand. "If he wants me, he knows were to find me. In the room next to yours."
He limped from the cave and to the manor, and, after a long shower, fell into bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, and his sleep was deep and dreamless.
Gotham City
The Next Morning
November 11th
Dick awoke with a headache and muscles that complained mightily when he tried to sit up. He groaned and rubbed his face wearily. He felt like he had not slept at all, although he knew full well that he had slept through the night. He got up slowly, scratching his belly idly as he walked to his bureau. He pulled out a pair of underwear and slid them on. He followed those with a pair of sweat pants, and, barefoot, left his room and headed for the kitchen.
As he passed through the family room, he was stopped by a voice.
"I knew, if I hung around long enough, I'd see one of you without a shirt. I was hoping it would be Bruce, though." Selina Kyle unfolded herself from the sofa.
Dick gave a small jump. "Good morning, Selina."
Selina Kyle was the most classically beautiful woman that Dick had ever seen, and, every time that he saw her, he understood more and more why Bruce found her so irresistible. Snapping, intelligent green eyes, short black hair that emphasized her willowy neck, and legs that never seemed to end – she was peerless in her beauty. However, Dick had never felt comfortable with her, and, despite her beauty, he had always avoided her company.
Dressed now in a tight black mini-dress and impossibly high black heels, she walked towards him. "Hmm. Morning was over hours ago, Dick. It's nearly three."
Dick's brows rose in surprise. He had slept eleven hours. "Where's Bruce?"
She circled Dick, surveying him. "Oh, he's around...somewhere."
"Why are you here?"
"Mm, those etiquette lessons from Alfred didn't take, I see."
Dick continued on his way to the kitchen, and Selina followed.
"Bruce invited me for lunch. You know, Dick, you really have grown up to be a man wonder."
Dick sighed. "Can we not do this now, Selina?"
She leaned on the counter as Dick pulled out milk and cereal. "Rough night?"
"You could say that." He retrieved a spoon and bowl.
"Bruce told me about your – encounter."
Dick, on a hunch, reached out and turned Selina's chin to the left with one finger. He would have certainly left behind a bruise on the neck of his assailant. Selina's neck was unmarred.
She looked at him with a knowing smile. "Satisfied?"
He did not answer, but chewed his breakfast.
"Ah, Dick, you're up. Good." Bruce came into the kitchen.
Selina smiled as he dragged a hand along her arm and around the back of her neck in a show of intimacy.
"How are you feeling?" Bruce continued.
"Headache. Muscle aches. Otherwise, fine."
"Alfred tells me that there was no evidence of concussion."
"I'm fine."
"You're still taking a few nights off."
Although Dick wanted to protest, he did not want to do so in front of Selina, which may have been Bruce's intention.
"Where are Damian and Alfred?"
"Alfred, I believe, is out shopping. Damian is training." He turned to Selina. "I'll be ready soon. I just want to talk with Dick for a bit."
"Of course." She turned the full power of her smile on Bruce, and Dick seethed. Her ability to manipulate men through the use of sex was legendary, and, although Bruce was quite cognizant of that, he frequently allowed himself to be swayed by her.
Bruce indicated the Dick should follow him to his study, and Dick drank the remainder of the milk out of his bowl before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and, giving Selina a wary look, left the kitchen.
Selina's eyes followed him, thinking how much like a cat Dick Grayson could be sometimes.
Dick lowered himself into the chair in front of Bruce's desk gingerly, which did not escape Bruce.
"Still sore?"
Dick nodded. "How did the evidence gathering go last night?"
Bruce shrugged. "I recovered what I could. A few bits of cardboard, some metal scraps."
"What was it?"
"Surveillance footage shows a small delivery truck with no plates dumping it about fifteen minutes before the explosion. It was a cardboard box with what seemed to be a gas can inside."
"Easily detonated with a gunshot."
"Yes."
Dick sighed and looked out the window onto the grounds. "We won't get any clues from that."
"Probably not. My guess is that it was detonated with the express purpose of luring us there."
"To take another shot at us." Dick was silent. "But which one of us?" He frowned, thinking. "I'm the only one who's been at all three scenes."
"I thought of that, but, at the jewelry store, Damian and I were the targets. You were on the other side of the car, out of the line of fire."
Dick shook his head. He hated this. He was used to people trying to kill him, and his family, face to face. But these sniper attacks unnerved him. "And how did she know where we were?" The question popped into Dick's head suddenly.
Bruce opened his desk drawer and retrieved something, which he put on the desk in front of his son. It was one of their comm devices. "It's yours. The one you were wearing last night."
Dick took it. "So?"
"It was destroyed when you were stunned."
Dick was puzzled. "And?"
"This is the second comm you've had in the past two months."
"Are you lecturing me on taking better care of my toys, Bruce?"
"No. You lost the last one in the sewer, and we never recovered it."
Realization dawned on Dick. "You think someone found it and hacked the frequency."
"I'm having everyone's comm rewired for a more secure link."
Dick felt like shit. He had inadvertently put his family in danger. "Bruce. I'm sorry."
Bruce held up a hand. "It was my fault. I should have thought of that. It's going to be standard procedure from now on – whenever one of the comms is compromised, we replace the whole system. It's a good policy."
Dick nodded, and Bruce watched him for a long moment before speaking. "Dick, do you know why Selina is here?"
"Sex?"
Bruce's face was expressionless, although Dick thought that he detected a bit of redness in his father's face. "You told Damian that you hit the sniper on the side of the neck with your escrima stick."
"And you thought it was possible that it might have been Selina."
"I know that you thought it was possible. And I wanted to be certain."
"It wasn't her. The sniper will have a bruise, at least."
"No, it wasn't her."
"Could she have hired someone?"
"That's not her way. She does her own dirty work." He sighed. "Look, Dick, I know that you all think that I'm blind to Selina's faults..."
"You turn a blind eye to what she does."
"Loathe the actions, not the woman."
"That's a new one for you." Dick pointed out dryly.
"She's not irredeemable, Dick."
"I know. You're right. I just – don't trust her."
"Neither do I. But she isn't involved."
No. I suppose not." Dick thought on it for a moment. "So it's not Talia and it's not Selina, but it is a woman."
"The list of female assassins is, fortunately, short. And who do you usually think of at the top of that list?"
"Cheshire."
"Yes."
Dick shook his head. "Jade's beyond trying to kill Roy's friends."
"She's well connected with that world, though. You think you might be able to get her to talk?"
"Jade? You think that I can get Jade to talk? You overestimate her affection for me."
"What about Roy?"
Dick shrugged sadly. "I can try – to talk to him. He and Jade are having – problems."
"It's worth a try. If you'll do it."
"Yeah, I will. Of course I will."
"Good. But whoever she is – she's not trying to kill us. She left you alive, Dick. Why?"
Dick shook his head. He had been trying to puzzle it out. The assassin, whoever she was, had the perfect opportunity to kill him last night, and had not. She hadn't even unmasked him. Why? "Orders, maybe."
Bruce looked thoughtful. "Maybe. But who is giving the order?"
Dick shrugged, and put his feet up on the chair beneath him. "That's the big question. Along with me wondering when you, me, and Damian are going to finish climbing Wayne Tower."
Bruce gave him a severe look. "When you've recovered sufficiently."
Dick stretched out one arm. "I'm good for tonight."
"I already told you that you're taking a few nights off. I've also arranged for a massage therapist to come by later."
Dick grinned. "A hot chick massage therapist?"
Bruce gave him an odd look. "You sound like Jason."
Dick blushed, mindful of the promise that he had made to Jason. "Just kidding."
Bruce stood. "I'm taking Selina for cocktails and then a movie. Just in case you were thinking of going out, I've left Damian with strict instructions that you are not to leave here tonight. So just get your massage, eat a good dinner, and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."
Dick saluted. "Yes, boss."
Gotham City
Earlier That Day
Devon was not as lucky as Dick to sleep eleven hours, although she did sleep nine, waking up a bit after ten A.M. on Sunday morning. However, since she, unlike Dick, had not been electrically shocked into unconsciousness, she did not need the healing sleep nearly as much.
She awoke to the aroma of breakfast cooking, and, for a moment, was transported back to a time before Larry had come back into her life, when her world consisted of simple things like studying and working instead of sniper rifles and stun guns.
Nightwing hadn't come by last night, and, of course, she hadn't expected him to. He had probably gone home to wherever he lived and rested. At least, she hoped he had. Of course he had. Nothing had happened to him. He was fine.
Wasn't he?
She sighed and sat up. Shit. Now she was going to worry about him until she saw him again.
When would that be? Tonight, perhaps? Although she wanted, desperately, to see him, she also knew that she couldn't – not while she had a massive bruise on her neck. He would know, immediately, where she had gotten it, and then it would be over. Everything would be over.
So, as much as she hated it, she was going to keep her window closed and locked for the foreseeable future.
Her life sucked!
Gotham City
Later That Afternoon
November 11th
After Bruce and Selina left the house, Dick wandered back to his bedroom – to an alert on his phone going off. He picked it up and looked at it.
Wally's birthday! Shit!
Dick ran a hand through his hair. He had forgotten. Of course, he had been unconscious most of the day, but, still, he should have remembered! And he hadn't gotten Wally a present! What kind of a best friend was he?
Dick pulled up the Amazon mobile site on his phone, and quickly sent a $150 giftcard to his friend. It wasn't the most thoughtful present, but it was the most practical. Wally could buy almost anything he wanted from Amazon. Quick and easy.
He pulled up Wally's contact on the phone and called him.
It was answered on the fourth ring.
"Birthday central!" Wally's jovial voice came on the line.
"I guess you know why I'm calling, then." Dick smiled.
"To tell me that I am the greatest friend ever in the history of the world and that you are lucky to have me."
"You took the words right out of my mouth, Dude. Happy birthday."
"Thanks, Dick." Wally's voice softened. "I appreciate it."
"You really are the best friend I've ever had. And I am lucky to have you."
"Right back at ya. You coming over? Artemis has made the most delicious burgers that I have ever had."
Dick gave a wistful sigh. "Dude, I'd like to – love to, but I don't think I can drive."
Concern came into Wally's voice. "Dude! What happened?"
"I got tased last night. And Alfred said I can't drive because of residual muscle tremors."
"Shit, Dick! Tased! That sucks!"
"Yeah, tell me. Don't ever get tased."
"One rarely gets tased in retirement, I've found. Luckily."
"Something to be said for retirement, then."
"One of several things that can be said for retirement."
Dick chuckled. "Did you get my present?"
"Was it the stripper?"
"What? You got a stripper? No fair! I wasn't there!"
Wally laughed. "Just yanking your chain. No stripper. Unless you count Artemis." Dick could hear Artemis in the background shout "Wally!" in an outraged voice. "Okay, okay!" Wally was laughing louder now. "No stripper! No stripper!"
Dick waited until his friend had stopped laughing to continue. "I did not get you a stripper, but, who knows? You can get a lot of stuff through Amazon."
"Hey, you got me an Amazon giftcard? You're the best! I was just looking at a barbecue grill on there. Since we have a balcony and all, you know."
"That sounds great. Check your e-mail."
"I will. Thanks."
"I wish I could come over."
"No big deal. It's just a day. We'll get together next weekend."
"Yeah, let's do that. Maybe you'll have a new barbecue by then."
"Maybe. Hey, give that back!" There was a commotion, and Wally dropped his phone. He retrieved it quickly, however, and came back on the line. "Sorry, Dick. Brucely just stole the end of my burger. Smart dog."
Dick smiled again. It was so good to have Wally in his life. "I love you, Wally. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, I know it. I love you, too, buddy."
"Take care. Have a giant piece of birthday cake for me."
"Already taken care of. Homemade."
"That sounds great. I'll – see you soon."
"Not if I see you first."
Dick laughed. "Give Arty a kiss for me."
"Not if she knows you called her Arty."
"Don't tell her, then."
"I won't. See you soon."
"Yeah. I will. Happy birthday."
"Thanks, Dick. Feel better."
Wally clicked off, amid shouts to the dog, and Dick gave a small, sad smile.
Gotham City
Later That Night
"Come on, Dami. You know I'm fine."
Damian looked up from his playing cards to glare at his brother. "I promised Father that you would not go out tonight. Got any two's?"
"Go fish."
Damian picked a card from the top of the deck. "Ha! Got it!" He triumphantly showed the two of diamonds to his brother. "I get another turn."
"Yes, you do." Dick had decided to teach Damian the simple joys of Go Fish, and luckily, Damian was competitive enough that he agreed readily. He then proceeded to decimate Dick in two consecutive games, and was currently beating him in a third. "Are you sure you've never played this game before?"
Damian gave a sniff. "Of course not. This is a peasant game."
"Well, you seem to be doing really well at this peasant game."
"Of course. My superior intellect makes this child's play."
"Whatever. Play, child."
Damian looked at his cards. "Do you have any seven's?"
Dick shook his head. "Go fish."
Damian drew from the common deck, and grimaced at the card that he had drawn. "Your turn."
"Finally!" Dick held his hands out in mock praise.
"I can't help it if I picked three cards in a row from the deck."
Dick shrugged. "You're just a lucky little Wayne." He looked through his own cards slowly. "Did you know that Bruce and I used to play this on stakeouts?"
Damian shook his head. "No. When we're on stakeouts, I generally read comics on my phone."
"Tsk. Tsk. Kids nowadays."
Damian watched as Dick shuffled his cards, and bit his lip. "D – do you think that Father would play with me if I asked him?"
Dick gave him a brief look, trying to subdue the smile that was threatening. "Not if he knows how ruthless you are."
"Tt." Damian waved a hand. "Father is not afraid of competition."
Dick was only listening with half an ear, trying to decide if he should ask Damian for a queen or a three. "No, he is not. Got any queens?" Damian reluctantly handed over a queen, and Dick smiled. "Come here, lovely lady."
He looked over his cards again while Damian watched him speculatively. "You know, Grayson, you are favoring your left arm."
Dick tried to look casual. "Oh yeah? How can you tell?"
Damian shrugged. "You try to hold your cards with both hands, but sometimes you put your left arm down and keep all of your cards in your right hand."
Dick sighed. Damn perspicacious little bat! "I'm all right."
"You know," Damian said nonchalantly, "Father was very worried about you last night."
Dick looked at him sharply. "That's odd. Bruce said that you were worried about me." Bruce had actually said nothing about Damian's reaction, but Dick was interested.
To his surprise, Damian lowered his cards, face down, of course. "When I saw you lying there, Grayson, I was – frightened that – that the assassin had succeeded."
Dick's face slackened in shock. Damian had actually been scared – and was admitting it! "Oh, Dami," he said softly, "you know it takes a hell of a lot more than one girl assassin to take me out."
Damian picked his cards back up and shuffled them nervously. "I – I don't want anything to happen to you. Or to Father."
Dick grinned suddenly, and pulled his little brother into a fierce hug. "We're strong and stubborn, Damian. It would take wild horses to drag us from you."
Damian allowed himself to be hugged for about five seconds before pushing Dick away. "Get off! You're knocking the deck over!"
Dick smiled, and sat back. "Sorry. Just my peasant mawkishness." He watched as Damian smoothed his hair. "Got any four's?"
"Go fish, peasant."
Gotham City
The Next Morning
November 12th
Devon's alarm rang at five A.M., and she smacked it silent, sat up groggily and looked around the room. Shit. It was Monday. Time to get up and start the day.
As she dragged herself from bed, she vowed that, when she graduated, she was going to get a job that did not require her to get up before eight. She would sleep until eight every day, and not rise until the sun had beaten her to it.
She went through her ablutions and dressed in her uniform, and peered at the bruise in the mirror. It had turned an ugly blue and yellow, and stretched from her hairline to her the top of her back and shoulder. Luckily, it was no longer as painful to the touch as it had been, but her neck still ached, and it still hurt to turn her head.
She wondered how Nightwing had fared – she suspected that he was as sore as she, but for a different reason. She remembered the jerking of his muscles, and she grimaced. She can't believe that she had tased her boyfriend! Well, not boyfriend so much as – what was he, exactly? Nocturnal partner? That was as good a term as any, and better than others that she had heard.
She unlocked the door to the diner downstairs, and stepped through. She walked through the kitchen to turn on the overhead lights, and she hit the switch, but nothing happened. She frowned, and flipped it a few more times. What was wrong with it? Probably a power breaker.
She sighed. She would have to go down to the basement and check on the problem. She hated the basement. It reminded her too much of horror movies. Screwing up her courage, she walked towards the basement door, but stopped. Maybe she should run back up to her room and get the handgun from beneath the floorboards.
Don't be ridiculous, Devon! This is not a horror movie. You'll be fine.
She started for the door again. I wish Nightwing were here. He'd make me feel safe. Among other things.
She silently made her way through the kitchen, her senses tuned to the slightest sound. She thought she heard the sound of a soft footstep behind her, and swung at it with her arm.
Her wrist was caught in a firm grasp and twisted behind her back. With a cry of pain, she was forced to her knees and she could feel the sharp edge of a shin biting into her back.
"Good morning."
She gave a grunt of frustration, and tried to throw her assailant off, but he just chuckled and leaned down to her ear. "Aren't you going to say good morning, Uncle Larry?"
"No."
He gave a low, menacing laugh, and turned down the collar of her uniform to expose the bruise she had received in the fight. "Look at this. A little souvenir from Nightwing?"
"What do you want?" She said between clenched teeth.
He ignored her question. "Have you forgotten your training?"
"My training? You cut me loose at 15! I haven't had any training in six years!"
"You took ten years of martial arts."
"Yeah, well, if you don't use it, you lose it. Now what do you want?"
"That little chat I mentioned." He removed the weight of his knee from her back and released her arm, and she straightened.
He was leaning against the counter when she stood. "I got into a lot of trouble over you."
Devon wanted to say 'good,' but refrained. She stood and straightened her uniform. "What did you want me to do? You said I didn't have to kill anyone."
"You could have unmasked him."
"I didn't know that was the mission. You said it was to scare him. And, anyway, Batman was on his way! I can't take on Batman! It was just dumb luck that I beat Nightwing!"
He grabbed her arm, and, for the second time in as many weeks, she was afraid of him. "Luck has little to do with it, girl. It's all about effort. You wanted to get out of that situation, and, with a little effort, you did. And I don't see you putting a lot of that into your other mission."
"I'm trying my best."
"I don't think that you are. How can I encourage you to do better, hmm? Because I know hurting you won't make any difference. Although, of course, I wouldn't mind trying that." His hand continued to squeeze her arm, and, although the pain was excruciating, she did not flinch.
"Better find another way, then." She said, her face stoic.
He released her suddenly. "I think that I will." He walked over to the stairs and peered up into the darkness there. "Grandma tells me that she thinks you're keeping secrets from her." He turned back to Devon. "You know, if she's no good as your handler, we really have no use for her – at all."
At this, Devon's pupils constricted, and she was silent.
He smiled. "I knew that I could find something that would inspire you to excel. You're to concentrate on that. You're off the sniper job for now."
She felt a sense of relief. "Good. Why?" She was wary.
"Technical difficulties. Don't worry – it won't be a long hiatus." He gave a parody of a smile. "How close are you to accomplishing your goal?"
Her heart rate increased and she looked away. "He really isn't interested."
"Not interested in you? Are you losing your touch?"
"He – he has a girlfriend."
"Oh, yes. His girlfriend. She's not up to your standards. You can bring him around."
"I – I don't know."
"Tsk. Too bad. Oh, well. Your grandmother is such an old woman. Anything might happen to her. Fall down the stairs. Heart attack. Stroke."
Her face paled. "I need more time."
"You're out of time. We gave you an extra month, and still you weren't able to bring him in."
"You know where he lives, where he works. You know his real name. Why do I have to deliver him?"
He patted her cheek in a falsely avuncular way, but she neither flinched nor pulled away. "They won't give you another chance." He walked to the door of the diner. "You have until the end of the semester. I think that's generous, don't you?"
Devon didn't realize that she was holding her breath until she heard the lock click as Larry let himself out, and, then, she sank to the floor and put her head in her hands.
Author's Notes: I bet you want to know what Devon's other mission is. Ha! Well, tough potatoes! I'm not telling!
The scene at the beginning of the chapter when Dick woke up and immediately launched into action, trying to protect Bruce and Damian, was inspired by the scene in "Casino Royale," when Bond was resuscitated by Vesper after being poisoned, and his VERY first thought was to make certain she was okay. I'm pretty certain that Dick would be the same way. Wake up. Save his family. Recover.
Also, in case I never mentioned this, Damian refers to Dick as a "peasant" because Dick, in the comics canon, has Romani (commonly, and incorrectly, known as "gypsy") roots. Damian considers himself superior to Dick [although, let's be honest, Damian considers himself to be better than everyone except Bruce, his mother (Talia), and grandfather (Ra's Al Ghul)].
Also, I hope that you enjoy knowing that Damian reads comics on his phone while he's on stakeout. I'm not sure which comics he would read, though, so give me suggestions, and I'll have him "gush" about one of those comics in an upcoming chapter.
Also, it was just coincidence that this chapter included Wally's birthday. With what happened in the Young Justice finale, I know that we're all feeling the pain! Wally, like Damian, will be alive in this fic, although I have decided that Wally was brought back through some circumstance - or, who knows, maybe he was just sucked into another dimension by the Reach's MFD, and found his way back!
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