Nightwing flashed a rare grin as he ducked the swinging sword of a henchman and slammed one of his metal sticks into the man's stomach. A loud cracking sound and a sharp pain reminded him of the broken finger that had nearly prevented him from going out to fight tonight. Zatanna Zatara was the reason he had stopped the selling of a dangerous, enhancement chemical between two villains.
The superhero resorted to his uninjured feet to do most of the work-kicking the stomachs of shocked henchman and knocking others forward with a hard push to the back. He winced and readjusted the baton in his hand. Who knew one broken finger could hurt so much?
"Eit meht pu!" The magician shouted as ropes formed out of thin air and coiled around the legs and chests of the villains. Zatanna tossed a wavy lock of black hair out of her face and looked around the shipping dock. Cold wind blew from the sea, occasionally sending soft sprays of water on the two superheroes. "I guess we're done-"
"Going somewhere?" A voice sneered. Under the shrouded mask, Nightwing narrowed his eyes and stood taller.
"Joker," he acknowledged grimly. The maniac ran a hand through his green hair and made his signature smile.
"Where's the Big Bad Bat?" The villain cackled. Nightwing eyed the crowd of clowns lurking in the shadows. He counted twelve. No, thirteen. "I guess I'll just have to settle for breaking his toys." As if the sentence was a hidden cue, the clowns jumped up all at once. Two of them jumped for the magician, but Nightwing knew she could handle herself. He had to worry about the three coming for him.
Dodging a chainsaw, he then jammed the end of a baton into his side, causing the clown to lose his balance. Something came charging towards him, but he ducked under it and kicked the clown in the back. The henchman fell onto his face and adjusted something on his mask. Two clowns were coming for him now, but he simply grinned and changed his grip on the stick. Maybe a broken finger wasn't such a-CRACK! Nightwing crashed onto the ground, colors blurring together and spots dancing across his vision. He thought he saw the flash of a blade shining in the distance and above all a voice.
"Robin!" The magician saw the two clowns rushing at her with drawn knives and the fallen Boy Wonder. There wasn't enough time. "Laeh mih." As the words left her lips, the first clown reached her and slit her throat.
The air shattered. As the blurriness subsided instantly and the bruises covering his body returned to their normal, flesh color, a new darkness took over. Something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong and Nightwing felt it crawl all throughout his body. The crumbling, the pain, the darkness.
"Zee!" He called wildly into the night sky. Looking around frantically, he spotted the magician lying lifeless, abandoned on the ground. "Zatanna!" A rising wave of fury swept through him and he glanced again at the clowns closing in. Targets. That's all they were to him. He raised his baton and pushed it straight through the first clown's throat. Down he went.
A rising feeling of panic reminded him of Zatanna's murderer. The clown was still laughing into the dark night, clutching the bloody blade between cold fingers. He never saw the dark silhouette charging for him. Nightwing grabbed the knife and ran it through the clown's throat. He fell to the ground. Like an unstoppable, uncontrollable force, the man filled with darkness went from villain to villain, wielding the knife, slicing the throat and trampling the body. It was only when all the enemies lay, strewn across the ground, wallowing in their pools of blood that he finally stopped.
"Zee." The word slipped through his lips, snapping him out of his trance. Slowly, he made his way over to the magician's body, crashing to his knees as his legs gave way. Her eyes were a dull blue, the life having been sucked out of them. Light pink lips faded into pale skin as Nightwing dropped his head onto her chest.
"I should have never let you come." Streams of red gushed from the long, crude gash and Nightwing placed his mouth against her throat. The blood tasted bitter on his lips as he kissed her neck. Red stains were left behind as he swept the body into his arms. A spray from the ocean slapped him in the face, chilling every bone in his body. He carried her far, far away from the fatal dock, a cackle ringing in his ears.
He hadn't attended her funeral. He couldn't. Her death burned bright in his heart. If only he had agreed to let her heal that broken finger. But no, he had been too stubborn, claiming that pain served as a reminder. A bitter laugh echoed in the empty room as he threw another glass at the wall. The gash in his heart would never let him forget his guilt.
The wall opposite him was cracked from absorbing the impact of glass after glass. Shards littered the wooden floor and Nightwing never bothered to clean them up. When he stepped on them, the scars would serve as reminders of everything he'd done wrong.
He slumped against the wall, his legs strewn out in front of him, his hands pressed against the floor. The knife caked with blood lay on a desk nearby, and his batons were within reach. It had been fourteen days since her death, or so the scratches on the wall told him. He couldn't remember the last time he ate.
The door creaked open, but he barely seemed to hear it. A blur of ginger swept in, mixed with black. Batgirl stood there and a few seconds later, Robin entered the room behind her.
"We're worried about you, Dick." Batgirl spoke softly and eyed the beaten superhero carefully. "At least let us take care of you."
"I told you already." Nightwing's voice sounded eerily cold. It was dead, without the faintest trace of emotion. He threw another glass at the wall, this one dangerously close to Batgirl's head. "I'm fine."
"I wasn't asking you." Batgirl spoke, her green eyes flashing. "We're bringing you in, whether you want to or not." Nightwing grabbed his batons and leapt to his feet. Robin removed a staff and angled himself for a jump. A few seconds of silence passed, each side waiting for the other to give in. Batgirl attacked first.
Jumping up, she launched herself at his chest and he pushed her down with a baton. She caught herself and took a step backwards. Barbara and Tim wanted to bring him in, but without hurting him. Nightwing did not feel the same way.
Robin threw a smoke bomb as the older superhero retreated into the kitchen. The cabinets were empty, all of the cups and plates having been destroyed within the past week. Nightwing threw Tim across the room, sending him flying into the wall. He took a few steps back to reassess the situation when he stumbled into a huge, unmoving figure. The familiar Caped Crusader looked down on him.
"I'm sorry, Dick." He thrust a tranquilizer dart into Nightwing's neck.
The world was blurry when he opened his eyes again. Thin, leather straps kept him tied to a hospital-like bed with green paper sheets. A number of machines were hooked up to him, crazed lines running across their screens.
"You're awake." Batman spoke flatly, his expression remaining the same on the outside. But years of being his partner had taught Dick to look deeper, much deeper.
"Yes, I've woken from the sedative you gave me," Nightwing stated coldly and examined the small room. A desk was pushed to the side and a door marked "Restroom" was tucked in a corner.
"You were out of control, Dick," Batman growled and narrowed his eyes.
"You should have let me be," he responded, his voice cracking at the end. "You should have left me alone."
"I wouldn't have abandoned you." Former mentor and apprentice sat in silence. When Nightwing spoke again, his voice trembled and threatened to collapse.
"You'd think," he sucked in his breath and tried again. He sounded like the innocent kid that had cackled his way through problems and teased his teammates on disastrous missions. The person that had died years ago. "You'd think, that after my mom and my dad, that after Jason, that after Wally, it would get easier. That it wouldn't hurt so much. But I was wrong. The burn is worse." Batman grunted and stared at a monitor instead.
"You don't ever get used to it."
"Master Dick, I see you've escaped your room." Alfred spoke sternly as he sipped a cup of tea while scanning a newspaper. Nightwing paused and turned to face the family butler.
"Please, Alfred," Dick pleaded. "I need to get out. I need to leave." Alfred raised his eyebrows and closed the paper. "I need to be alone." The butler remembered the long evenings Bruce had spent, locked in his room, shortly after the death of his parents. He had refused to see anyone, even Alfred. Shoving a psychiatrist through his window had only worsened the situation. The boy had to be left alone. "Please."
"Wait, Master Dick." The butler disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a paper bag of food.
"Thank you, Alfred," Nightwing choked, and brushed one hand against his mask. Alfred placed one hand firmly on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.
"Take care of yourself, Master Dick."
"I will."
He wasn't sure where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get away. Away from everyone, smothering him with their concern. He was already drowning in his own tears. He couldn't be with anyone else. He simply couldn't.
Nightwing splashed through a thrashing brook, staring blankly at his numb feet. The waves soaked his boots, but he barely noticed. A spray of water hit him in the face and he sank into the mud, too weak to stand. Memories surged at an overwhelming rate.
Jumping on a bar. Swinging through the air. Watching the ropes snap. Hearing the bodies hit the ground. The debris. The explosion. The collateral damage. A person without a soul. A flash of lightning. Running to save the world. Standing by, helpless, as his best friend faded into nothing. A spell. A bloody knife. A fallen friend. And above it all, the Joker's never-ending cackle.
He gave a heart-wrenching cry and let his face fall below the waves.
The sharp taste of air in his lungs was accompanied by a cold, flat thing pressing into his back. Aqualad had lifted him from the brook and held him, suspended above the rushing water. Nightwing coughed, struggled at the sight of a familiar face and fell, splashing back into the waves. He climbed his way to the other side of the shore and sat opposite of the original Young Justice team. A sob fought its way to the surface but he shoved it back down with a gulp of air. What was left of the Team.
"You don't really think we'd let you die, did you?" Artemis smirked and pulled a stick from behind her back. Superboy nodded, his brow furrowed.
"You are not invincible, Nightwing." Aqualad spoke firmly, but gently. "Come back." M'gann's eyes glowed as she reached out telepathically.
"I've linked us together." Miss Martian spoke to all that were present. "Share your pain."
"You cannot bear the burden alone." Aqualad agreed, and removed his water bearers. Nightwing shook his head firmly and held his head with both hands.
"Let us help you." Artemis insisted. Dick was swinging his head furiously, his eyes shut tight and his lips pressed together.
"We're your teammates." Superboy spoke, and Nightwing dug his feet into the dirt.
"FINE!" He shouted the word into the sky. Taking a deep breath, he released all the barriers and let the pain flow freely.
M'gann was the first to fall, crashing to the dirt, having been unable to keep levitating. Screaming, shrieking, she clutched her head and moaned on the ground. Superboy pressed his hands against his ears and dropped his forehead onto the dirt, the pain consuming him.
Aqualad fell into the brook, hoping that the waves would wash away the memories burned into his heart. How could one person hold so much pain? Artemis, familiar with the heartache, familiar with the suffering, fought the sorrow and struggled to her feet. Nightwing stood across the stream, staring at them with dull eyes.
"Nightwing," she called out softly. He turned and started backing into the trees.
"I told you." And with that, he disappeared.
The stone walls were crumbling and the couch was covered in moth holes, but it would suffice. He hadn't known where to go-not to the Batcave, not to Mount Justice, not to his apartment. He had settled for an old hangout, a place where him, Wally, and Roy used to meet up many, many years ago.
The cabinets were bare and covered in dust, but Dick hardly cared. He wasn't hungry. He didn't think he'd ever be. A ray of sunlight trickled through a hole in the roof, and Nightwing crawled away from it, retreating into the deepest, darkest corner.
He didn't know why he had shared his pain with… them. They didn't deserve it. He did. He vowed to never again share it-to keep it locked away in his palace of darkness forever. The rusted door suddenly creaked on its hinges from someone having shoved himself against it. The broken, oak door opened to reveal Red Arrow.
"Thought I'd find you here." The ginger tossed his bow across the room and slumped beside the younger superhero. Nightwing wrapped his arms protectively around himself and dragged his knees to his chest.
"Go away, Roy." He spoke slowly through gritted teeth, but the archer remained seated.
"Not a chance." Red Arrow stretched his legs out and gave Nightwing a long look. "We've all been there, Robin. But that's where your teammates are supposed to come in. They're supposed to catch you when you fall, but they can't if you keep running."
"I need to be alone." Nightwing growled and scooted closer to his batons.
"When I found out I was a clone, that everything I knew was a lie, that all my feelings were imported from another person, I wanted to be alone." Red Arrow said. "Do you remember the times you hunted me down, trying to talk me out of my crazed state?" He waited until Nightwing nodded reluctantly before continuing. "Don't go down that path. Don't be me."
"Cheshire helped you, Roy." Dick growled back. "Whether you admit it or not, it was her and Lian that convinced you. Zatanna's dead." The last words were icy cold as Nightwing buried his face in his arms. He was coming undone. He had been falling apart for years now, but the magician's death had pushed him over the edge.
"Listen to me." Red Arrow grabbed Nightwing's shoulders and shook them. "Snap out of it before it's too late. Don't let yourself drown when there are people standing there, offering to help pull you out." Nightwing blinked as the archer pulled him into an awkward hug. Suddenly, the ginger started to wobble as he slid further on the wall.
"I'm sorry, Roy," Dick muttered as the other touched a feather protruding from his neck. Within seconds, Red Arrow was slumped against the wall, unconscious. The door banged shut as Nightwing left the broken building.
Dick pulled on his mask and reached for his batons. He slipped on his boots and wrapped his utility belt around his waist. It was loaded with bird-a-rangs and explosives. Reaching across, he hooked the bloody knife to his waist and climbed onto the windowsill. His eyes scanned the night sky. A moonlit night for his last mission.
Either he was going to kill the Joker or die trying.
It wasn't hard to find him. He knew that the Joker was just dying to rub the magician's death in his face. Setting a deadpan expression, he walked quietly back onto the horrid dock. The figure on the other end had his familiar green hair and flashing green eyes. The waves crashed behind him as Nightwing slipped his batons back into his belt.
"Robin." The Joker cackled and pulled a knife from behind his back.
"Joker." Nightwing pulled the bloody blade from his waist and narrowed his eyes.
"Ooh." The maniac grinned and eyed the knife. "Killing me with the knife that killed your crush. Awwwww. How sweet." Dick growled as a response and charged towards him, blade drawn.
Alone in the darkness, with only the waves from the ocean for the company, the two fought. Red blood gushed from rips in the worn, black suit. Stains blended in with the clown's tattoos as he laughed his way through the minutes, taunting, egging the other on.
A dripping gash on Nightwing's cheek felt numb, but he took the knife and kept slashing. Weariness dragged at his muscles, but he pushed himself harder, the image of the magician seared into his mind.
A flash of moonlight illuminated the pair for a second, momentarily blinding the Joker. Grunting from the pain, from the effort, he shoved the maniac to the ground and fell on top of him. Smashing the fingers gripping the handle of the blade tightly, Nightwing watched as the Joker's knife skidded across the dock. He was helpless, nothing could stop him now from the vengeance that he deserved. That Zatanna deserved.
Nightwing raised the blade high above his head.
"Dick, stop!" A voice cried. A familiar gust of wind brushed past him and Nightwing's arm trembled. It couldn't be.
"You're just a ghost." He growled and held the blade higher.
"No, I'm not." Wally West stood there, the emblem on his suit flashing. His hood had been thrown off, showing familiar red hair and green eyes. He grabbed Nightwing's arm, sending shudders through his body. "Did that feel like a ghost?"
"But… y-you couldn't have… it's impossible," Dick stuttered, his voice cracking and clouded with emotions.
"Don't kill him, Rob. This isn't who you are." Kid Flash urged, his voice desperate. "Is this what Zatanna would have wanted?" Dick narrowed his eyes and gave his friend a dull look.
"Zatanna's dead." Nightwing drove the knife deep into the clown's heart.
"ROBIN, NO!" Wally screamed, but he was much too late. Dick sat back on his heels and stared blankly into the ocean.
"It's done." Nightwing spoke so quietly Kid Flash could barely hear him. "He's dead." He reached out to feel for a heartbeat on his neck, and paused. "Something's wrong."
"What?" Kid Flash asked and zoomed next to his best friend. Nightwing picked at the odd lump he had found. Slowly, he removed the rubber mask of the Joker's face to reveal another henchmen.
"It was a trick." Dick spoke flatly. "He knew I would do this. He's still alive." The speedster looped one arm around his neck and pulled his friend to his feet.
"It's over now, Dick." Wally hugged his best friend who hung his head and struggled to speak.
"I thought you were dead, Wally," he cried. "I thought you were gone forever like them. Like my mom, my dad, Jason… Zee. I thought you abandoned me."
"Turns out the Speed Force is a lot more boring than it sounds." Wally grinned and elbowed Nightwing, who smiled faintly. "It's nice to be back in reality."
"I… don't… know what to do," Dick admitted quietly and leaned his head on Wally's shoulder.
"I hope it's better than trying to kill a maniac," The ginger grinned and hobbled a few steps awkwardly. The other let himself be dragged along, his feet hanging heavily on the wood. "I'm sure you'll find something to do."
"Y'know, Artemis is probably going to kill you when we get back," Nightwing grinned and let out a soft laugh.
"Right." Wally cringed and adjusted his arm. "Should I speed us to your apartment?"
"Nah. This is nice." He paused and swallowed. "I've missed you."
"Yeah. Me too." The two hobbled away into the moonlit night, arms looped, identical small grins plastered on their faces. Nightwing had a lost a piece of his soul the night his parents fell, another piece when Jason was slaughtered, and another when Zatanna died before his eyes. But that night, on the crooked shipping dock, he gained a little bit of his soul back.