A Martian Begins to Scheme

M'gann's eyes had just begun to slip closed—despite her best efforts to stay awake—when she'd heard three succinct clicks. The sound of a lock being picked.

The Martian had gone instantly boneless, sagging against Ida's hospital cot and trying to mimic fitful slumber. Closing her eyes, she focused on making her chest rise and fall in sync with Ida's, the heart monitor beeping along beside them.

There was the faint creak of the door opening, then silence. Not even a whisper of fabric.

She was just starting to think that whoever it was had given up, when her telepathy picked up on a presence to her left. M'gann couldn't read their mind, but she could feel them; feel their thoughts on the edge of her consciousness.

Cracking an eye open, she caught sight of a looming figure on the fringes of her peripheral vision.

Clothed in black, they blended in with the darkness around them so completely that, at first, M'gann thought she was seeing things. But no, there was definitely a person there, and the person was definitely the vigilante they'd been looking for.

She clenched her hands into tight fists as the figure loomed over Ida, the unconscious woman's expression serene as she slept.

And then the vigilante's gloved hand was stretching out nimble fingers towards the witness. M'gann was expecting violence, a fist perhaps but—he stroked the woman's hair, gently brushing it out of her face.

M'gann was…flabbergasted.

She'd felt his hand tremble against her throat at their fist meeting, when he'd tossed a smoke bomb to escape the precinct. Even without the use of her Martian mindreading, she'd felt the reluctance with which he had threatened her.

Watching him gently push back Ida's hair, she knew in her heart there was no way he'd killed those kids. No way he could possibly have sanctioned the Gang's murder.

Now, all she had to do was find a way to prove it.

Nightwing—she remembered he'd called himself Nightwing—stared at Ida for a moment longer, those masked eyes seeming to linger on the woman's unharmed form.

M'gann steeled herself, opening a connection between her and the Team. "Conner?" She thought loudly, only to jolt when the words came spilling out of her mouth.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. The Martian repressed the urge to bury her face in her hands.

Stupid, she cursed internally. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Her exhaustion must be getting to her if she was making such a rookie mistake.

Her skin crawled as she felt that masked gaze rove her face, but whatever Nightwing saw seemed unsuspicious enough.

There was a moment of stillness, the watchful kind of stillness when all the occupants of a room are trying to be quiet, then the click of a lock sliding back into place.

She was waiting a few more minutes, just to be sure he really was gone, when Conner's hesitant voice filler her mind, "Meg?"

"He's here," She breathed out, both in her mind and audibly. The room echoed with the weight of her words and M'gann had to shove the guilt down.

Whatever strange moment she'd witnessed, whatever remorseful emotions Nightwing was experiencing, he was still consciously going against the law.

Still the person they were supposed to bring in. She could try and prove his innocence, but in the end he was still an illegal vigilante.

"Nightwing's here," She said again, feeling as much as hearing her boyfriend's grunt of understanding. "I'll keep him busy till you arrive."

Then the Martian stood, and her skin began to change.

Wally was on his sixth (6) pizza when Conner swiped the piece the speedster had been munching on out of his hand.

They'd been taking a break from guarding Sniper while Artemis and Kaldur checked in with Tornado, via video screen, back at the apartment.

After several days of literally nothing happening, Wally had started going stir-crazy at the thought of staying in the hospital another night. So M'gann had agreed to stay behind and guard their charges while Conner and the speedster went out for a pizza run.

Kaldur had put Conner in charge after wisely deciding Wally and Artemis would tear each other to bits, either verbally or physically, if forced to share the same air any longer. And, so, Artemis had gone with Kaldur while Wally was babysat by their very own Kryptonian clone.

Now they were squatted in an alley, still wearing their costumes, next to Bludhaven's Best Pizzeria: We Have Asparagus!

Which didn't seem like a very great selling point to Wally, but maybe Bludhaven residents had a thing for asparagus. On pizza.

Maybe it was good to try new things every now and then?

He stared at the green flecks dotting the cheese of his remaining piece. Screw that. It was a travesty. His tongue felt unclean.

"I was eating that, you know." He said, eyeing the asparagus-covered-travesty-pizza Conner had swatted out of his hand. Even if it tasted like balls, it was still food. "Cost me forty bucks."

"Cost me forty bucks," Conner grumbled without any real malice. "And we have to go. M'gann just contacted me and said the vigilante's at the hospital."

His teammate's frantic actions were suddenly making a lot more sense. Conner would burn in hell for M'gann.

Or just eat an asparagus pizza. Same difference, if you asked Wally.

"How do you wanna do this?" He asked Conner.

Superboy growled—literally growled—at him, "Run, stupid. Carry me."

"O-oh," Wally muttered. "Right."

Bending, he allowed the substantially sized superhero to hop on his back like some koala on steroids. Without his metahuman muscles and general awesomeness, Wally never would've been able to do it.

As it was, they made it to the hospital on the other side of town in less than two minutes.

A voice in his head almost had him tripping over his own feet.

Conner, who was less than a few steps ahead of him as they sprinted up the hospital's indoor staircase (Wally had made him get off; there was no way he was lugging a gorilla-sized man up eight flights of steps, metahuman muscles or not), increased his already wild pace.

"I'm going to distract him, guys. Try and rope him into a conversation."

"Careful," Conner warned as he leapt up another set of steps, taking them three at a time like some lovestruck antelope. Koalas, gorillas, and now antelope? Wally had to stop watching Discovery Channel. "Where are you?"

"The roof," M'gann's mental tone sounded steady, but there was an undercut of panic in it that had Wally clenching his teeth.

Sure, he wasn't the Martian's boyfriend, but he still cared for her. Cared for everyone on their team in some form or another.

"Following him to the roof—meet me there!" And then her presence was withdrawing from their minds, hovering on the fringe for when they needed to communicate again.

Wally shot back a grunt of mental confirmation, too winded from carrying Conner to use actual words.

The door to the hospital helly landing pad was locked, but the weak steel crumpled like aluminium beneath Conner's desperate fist.

They paused for a moment to listen before hurrying out onto the roof, keeping their footsteps light as possibly. Then Conner froze so abruptly that Wally almost slammed into him, barely managing to stop himself at the last second.

Peeking around the super's massive shoulder, Wally understood the other man's hesitation.

Standing with his back to them, arms hanging loosely at his sides, was Nightwing. The vigilante stood silhouetted against the city skyline, a hot and dry Bludhaven wind ruffling his dark hair.

That, however, wasn't what'd surprised them.

For Batman stood on the roof too, his cape fanning out behind him.

"…M'gann?" Wally mentally cast out.

Even though he was fairly certain the hulking, cowled shape across from them was actually just their friendly neighborhood Martian in disguise, it couldn't hurt to double check.

The bulging muscles were a little too convincing, if you asked him.

"It's me," M'gann's—or should he say Batman's? —face didn't so much as twitch, but there was no doubt it was her.

"Stay back for now," She said after a pause. "I contacted Aqualad and Artemis. They're on their way, but hopefully I can distract him till they arrive."

Wally gave a quick nod, instantly agreeing with her decision.

It didn't make sense to engage now when two of their members were missing. Their best chance of success was to keep Nightwing occupied, especially considering they hadn't been able to beat him last time even with the whole Team.

So Superboy and Kid Flash stood by the access door, surveying the two figures on the rooftop. The younger of the two vigilantes hadn't noticed them, seemingly too stunned by Batman's appearance to hear their entrance.

As they watched, it quickly became apparent that something was extraordinarily wrong.

Where Nightwing had been suave confidence and targeted intensity before, poised like a dancer, now he was taut. Tense as a pulled string, his shoulders hunched together.

Wally couldn't see the vigilante's face but, judging by the way M'gann (Batman? He still hadn't figured out what he should call her), took a step back, his expression was nothing good.

Perhaps Tornado's theory that Nightwing and the Dark Knight were connected had some merit after all. It certainly looked like there was history between them.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was a far cry from the confident lilt it'd been before. Now it was soft, barely audible over the blustery wind.

"What do you mean?"

Wally almost jumped out of his skin when M'gann spoke. Hearing a deep timbre coming from their Martian was strange, to say the least.

She took a step forward, that long black cape catching the wind, and Nightwing retreated in a blur of black and blue.

One minute he was there, and the next he'd stumbled back gracelessly a few steps.

Wally's brows rose beneath his cowl as he turned to Conner, silently saying, What the hell?

Superboy just shrugged in response, but his blue eyes were narrowed thoughtfully.

Something about this whole situation was rubbing him the wrong way, like they only had half a picture. Less than half a picture, actually.

Like all they had was a tiny corner of a thousand-piece puzzle.

And Wally hated puzzles.

Miss Martian had been expecting several different reactions to her most recent shift. Fear, terror. Perhaps some mild grovelling or begging.

That had been her reasoning behind becoming Batman; if she looked like Gotham's most dangerous vigilante, she could intimidate Nightwing into obeying with a single raised brow. Stall him long enough for the rest of the Team to arrive.

Perhaps even rope him into proving his own innocence.

What she had not been expecting was this blank faced man, masked eyes screwed up and body flexed for flight or fight.

She'd taken a step forward and nearly driven Nightwing off the roof. There was definitely a story here and now was the perfect time to figure it out.

Maybe if she could puzzle out more about him tonight, they could cut their assignment short and return home to the Cave early. Conner and her still had some unfinished business…

So M'gann asked her question again, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to exude Manly Vibes™.

What do you mean?" It didn't quite feel like she was getting the voice right, but with the city sounds surrounding them it shouldn't make a difference.

'Sides, what were the chances of Nightwing being on familiar terms with the Batman?

Speaking of, the vigilante seemed to have pulled himself together a bit, unconsciously mirroring her stance and drawing himself to his full height.

Now that he wasn't in action or projecting arrogance, he looked a lot more…short. It tickled something at the back of her mind, pawing at her memory in a peculiar way.

"I mean, why are you here, B." He said again, this time a little bolder.

B?! They were evidently a lot more friendly than she'd originally surmised. But, hopefully, that would mean her next words weren't out of character.

"Checking on you, obviously."

Nightwing looked her up and down skeptically and M'gann felt her heart stutter in her chest. Uh oh.

"You? Mr. 'I-work-alone' checking up on little old me? I'm flattered." His tone was flat, dry. Like he'd rather be sticking his whole hand in a blender than having this conversation. "But I'm also fine. No scratches, no aches, no missing limbs. I'm handling things."

"I can see that," M'gann said after a moment of consideration. There were too many thoughts swirling in her mind right now.

Like why Batman would care about some fledgling, run-of-the-mill vigilante? Why would they be on speaking terms? Why would they have nicknames for each other?

And why was 'not missing any limbs' their standard of excellence?

Shoving the thoughts to the back of her mind where she could sift through them later, she narrowed the lenses of her cowl at him and said, "And what about the Gang? You handling them, too?"

She'd been hoping for adamant denial, perhaps some kind of alibi, but was unpleasantly surprised to see the vigilante's fists clench at his sides.

"I didn't mean for that to happen. I couldn't—" He made a fierce sweeping motion with his hands, like he could find the words he was looking for in the stuffy night air. "I couldn't do anything."

The part of M'gann that would always be a helper piped up before she could stop it. "I'm sure you did everything you could."

His gaze snapped towards her and the Martian knew she'd made some kind of mistake. Strong jaw flexing, he studied her again carefully.

But whatever it was Nightwing was searching for, he seemed incapable of finding. "I guess. You seem…that is…" He cleared his throat. "How's Alfred?"

Alfred?

M'gann risked a glance at Wally and Conner, who were watching their exchange with wide eyes.

"Any ideas?" She shot at them telepathically, only to have them both shrug in unison.

Boys, she thought darkly. Perfectly useless when it comes to a little bit of espionage.

"Good," M'gann murmured after a brief pause. Alfred could be anything from a pet turtle to another crazy vigilante, so she kept her answer simple.

"That's…good." Nightwing said shortly, looking uncomfortable with their conversation. "And…you?"

M'gann blinked, wondering, again, what'd happened to the smooth-talking sass-master they'd seen before.

Compared to then he seemed hesitant, borderline intimidated.

She decided to ignore the question, not having the faintest idea of how the Batman would describe his emotional wellbeing.

"And the Young Justice team? Have they gotten in your way?" It felt odd, talking about her Team in such a passive manner.

But she needed to know what, if anything, he knew about them.

Nightwing relaxed, like discussing the inconvenience of superheroes was somehow more familiar ground than emoting. "Fantastic," She figured he was rolling his eyes behind the mask. "They're an inconvenience at best, though they've been surprisingly… enjoyable to work with."

"Work with?" Wally asked into her mind. "Since when are we working with him? You guys know something I don't?"

M'gann shook her head minutely, not understanding the comment either. "And the mastermind behind the attacks? Are you any closer to ascertaining their identity?"

Nightwing opened his mouth to answer then suddenly paused, his relaxed countenance shattering. "No." He took another step back, watching M'gann's every move as if he thought she was going to launch an assault.

"No," He repeated, almost like he was convincing himself. "We're not doing this again. I already told you we were on a permanent break and I meant it. So, no, I'm not going back and—" He gestured vaguely, voice tinged with the beginnings of…an accent? "And we're not partners anymore."

From the sound of it, the words nearly choked him on their way out. Nightwing swayed, like he'd forgotten how to stand, but quickly settled himself. "I'm not a publicity stunt. Not a charity case, and you already made it clear you don't 'do' family." He made little finger quotes around the word, his lips twisted in a grimace. "You made that very, very clear."

M'gann had no idea what she was supposed to be saying right now. One glance told her that Conner and Wally were as stupidly stunned as she was.

Things had taken an extremely personal turn and M'gann felt like she was intruding. Like this moment wasn't meant for her eyes. Or ears.

Wally's gaze was pointedly fixed on a chunk of mortar like it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen and Conner, on the other hand, was listening shamelessly with a tight frown on his face.

And Nightwing just stood there, almost undistinguishable against a backdrop of dark smog.

When M'gann remained silent, tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, the vigilante scoffed.

"What? Not going to say anything?" On the surface he sounded angry, but she could hear the different levels of complex hurt beneath his voice. The Martian had to fight back against her natural urge to wrap him in a hug.

She had a feeling getting embraced by the Batman would not be appreciated right now. Nor particularly in keeping with his character.

Nightwing twitched, like his body was torn between storming forward and beating a hasty retreat. "So that's it? You're not going to freak out this time?" His tone turned mockingly incredulous, tired. Heavy. "Has the Dark Knight finally found a way to resolve his problems besides slapping them?"

…ah. That explained the odd wincing and calculated distance between them. The urge to wrap him in a hug was so strong now she could actually feel her arms twitching.

She could also feel the anger radiating from her boyfriend, his expression promising violence. Flashes of his time at CADMUS were spilling over the link between them and M'gann had to brace her mind to ignore them.

Now was not the time to get caught up in her boyfriend's less than stellar memories. Though they'd definitely be discussing extra counselling sessions with Canary later.

Nightwing made an odd sort of snorting scoff, the sound of it a lot shakier than the vigilante had probably intended. "Get out of my city, B."

Then he turned to leave and M'gann startled, suddenly realizing that, if he turned, he'd see Superboy and Kid Flash silently spectating like two gossip column reporters.

Reeling, she quickly latched onto Red Tornado's half-formed theory, one that'd slowly been unfolding in her mind, and barked out—

"Robin!"

The gruff sound of it leaving her mouth made her cringe, but it had a much more adverse effect on the vigilante.

His posture snapped, going stiffer than a board. Then he spun around in a such a fluid, motion that M'gann felt like she was supposed to applaud.

She'd been expecting anger, perhaps denial, but saw only lethal, deadly calm. Like those few calculated moments of silence before a lightning strike. "Don't call me that," He crossed his arms over his chest, pushing twitching fingers against taut muscles. "Don't—don't you ever call me that. You have no right," He spat the words out like they'd burned him.

The man was standing much closer now yet had still managed to maintain a safe arm's length between them. Now that M'gann had a few more of the facts, a few more of the physical facts, his skittish behaviour was making a lot more sense.

Again, she felt it all. Even without her telepathic empathy, M'gann had always been a heart-on-her-sleeve kind of Martian. And it had been her who caused him to react like that; her who'd dredged up painful memories for her own selfish agenda.

So, she said exactly what was on her mind.

"I'm sorry."

Nightwing's body went rigid, then relaxed, then rigid again, like he was having trouble processing her words. Then the lenses of his mask narrowed at her and he said, "Red-five-T-seven."

M'gann blinked. Then blinked again. Red what?

"What's happening?" Conner asked telepathically, concern lacing his mental voice, but M'gann studiously tuned him out.

This had to be some kind of code between the two, one Batman and he had likely come up with previously for situations such as this.

Curse Batman's insufferable (but also justified) paranoia.

Sighing, the Martian delved into his mind before she could talk herself out of it. If he was still under emotional duress, perhaps his mental shields were down.

Then M'gann could figure out the password, get this hissing cat of a vigilante to calm down, and disappear before he had a chance to notice Conner and Wally's presence.

As far as plans went, it sucked. Sucked a lot, but it was the only one she had.

She felt confusion, anger (a lot of anger, too much for such a little package), and then more. They flew by her face as she swam deeper into the recesses of his mind, barely touching the surface of his thoughts but already feeling drained.

No wonder he was so snappish all the time if he was feeling this. It was exhausting. This man needed therapy.

And more sleep. Gosh, he was practically dead on his feet.

Although practically no time passed in the outside world, her attempts at diving into his mind felt like they took hours. Even when Nightwing was seconds away from some kind of emotional breakdown, his mental barriers were still frustratingly strong.

But not strong enough.

She brushed by a sensation that she recognized and paused, feeling it resonate within her own psyche.

Aloneness. And a lot of it.

M'gann knew it well from her time on Mars, before she'd stowed away to Earth and found something that'd filled up every part of her. Found people willing to figure things out alongside her.

And then, right then, while she was still barely scratching the surface of this vigilante's—no, this person's mind, M'gann determined something within her own head. She found a resolve and a purpose. Something she was going to make happen even if she had to go against the Justice League to do it.

Dangerous thoughts for a hero, but they were hers all the same.

It would be a rescue mission, of sorts. An intervention. A friendship. There were lots of words for it.

A family.

But, for now, she had a job to do.

(A/N): Thank you everyone for not tearing me apart last update! I srsly thought some of you were going to track me down after that cliffhanger and have your revenge.

And a double thank-you to those who reviewed! I love reading each of your theories and comments, they are the wind in my proverbial writing sails. If that make sense. Wth am I even saying?

I'm going to go take a much-needed nap. Have a great week y'all

~ASL