NEW GOTHAM - ISSUE # 2: Royal Blood

"Why the hell would someone from the royal family be saving someone as lowly as the Killer Moth, huh?"

There was that term again. The Royal Family. Over the past few months, Dick had heard it a lot. It was a term to describe Bruce, Jason, Barbara and Nightwing himself. The flock of Caped Crusaders. Gotham's Saviors. The Royal Guard. Anyway you cut it, they were all describing them, and it sickened Dick.

For a long time people imitated Batman and the Batclan. You had people running around with hockey pads and Batman masks and shotguns taking on low level criminals. Now though, you had regular thugs dressing up as "super villains," hoping to get the Batman to come back out. Everyone needed a dark knight it seemed.

The city was gluttonous. It needed the type of energy Batman and the Joker gave it, and now both of the generators were out and people wanted the energy back. Desperately. Dick had thought about taking up the cape and cowl, but Bruce always responded one way.

"Batman died in Ace Chemicals. That's that."

The costume was at his disposal, though. It was in the cave underneath the manor, but heavily locked up so no one could use it. It was quite annoying. Dick truly believed that if Bruce was mayor and the Batman was at his side, no one would cross his path. But that's not how Bruce wanted it anymore. He barely tolerated the vigilantism that Dick and even sometimes Jason still did. He let it go because he loved them, but the limit was coming soon and they all knew it. The THOMAS WAYNE Protocol was coming, and Dick was going to do everything in his power to make sure it didn't.

Back to the point at hand, though. Dick kicked the air gun out of Moth's hand, spun around and stood, taking out two batons. He crouched and scanned the room, just the 5 of them and Dick. Seemed a little unfair for Moth's crew, though.

"I hate that term. Royal Family. Does it look like I have a family anymore, Mothboy? Or does it look like I'm standing here, trying to stop you from being ambushed by Polar Bear and his boys?"

Moth took off his mask and looked at Dick. "Listen, Dicky, I don't need your help here. These men are going to bow to me."

Dick sighed as he relaxed and stood. Drury and Dick had grown up together, and they both knew their identities. On some level they were still friends, but not now. Now, they were two men who had to make a choice. Fight each other or fight the men waiting.

"Not so fast Drury, no one's waiting to give you the crown in there. Polar Bear has a room stacked with men to destroy you. Hell, he doesn't even need them. Just his fists will work.

Walker was sweating heavily from his elongated forehead. He had tufts of red hair but was balding and refused to admit it. He was only a few years older than Dick, but with the way Drury's teeth bucked out and with his hair thinning, you would have thought there was a decade.

"I don't need you, Dicky." Dicky. A nickname that had been given to Grayson as a child by Drury and Jason. If anyone else besides those two called him that, he would have lost his mind. But he had a soft spot for the felon, as much as he tried to shake it. Drury and Dick lost contact when Walker went into juvie when he was 12, but the bond was still there. That was Dick's fault. If he had caught him and sent him to Blackgate, Drury may have been stopped before he thought he was a top tier gangster and offed Oswald's son.

"Why'd you kill the kid, Drury?" His voice was soft. He was exhausted. He had been out all night, and now he would possibly have to fight for the life of the shell of a man he once knew. That was the thing about Dick though, he never gave up. Ever. That was his achille's heel though.

Drury wiped the sweat off of his forehead and put the head back on. This was no longer two friends catching up. This was Nightwing and Killer Moth talking. Drury nodded at Frankie, who tied Dick up to a boiler in the room with some rope he found in the room. Dick was seething as he tried to get his friend to not go in the room, but it was too late. As soon as the thugs left the room, Dick clicked a button on his wrist, heating up his cuff and allowing him to break free from the rope. He didn't have too much time.

"Listen, kid, I'm going to need you to put me in contact with the mayor. Now."

Harper didn't even respond. All Dick heard was two trills of a phone line and a solemn response. "Hello?"

"Listen, Bruce, I'm just calling you to warn you, like I did last week, that a major blood bath is going to take place in Fishville." Dick ran around the corner and down the hall to the room, hoping it wasn't too late. "Any chance you want to suit up and get down? Maybe call Jason?"

The line went dead. Bruce and Dick had a pretty decent relationship, still, but no matter what, the line always went dead when Dick talked about either of them suiting back up. It was like the cape and cowl were a sin and Bruce was a born again Christian. It was ridiculous to Dick.

What wasn't ridiculous is that by the time Nightwing caught up to the thugs, they were huddled down a side hall, with Moth debating with Frankie whether or not to go in. Dick sighed as he ran straight for the door, busting it open.

NEXT ISSUE: #3 REKINDLING OF A BROTHERHOOD

Will Jason and Dick ever see eye to eye? Will Red Robin ever pick the mantle back up? Are Dick and Harper destined to fight the underground of Gotham alone?