Disclaimer: DC Comics and Time/Warner own All the characters; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.
I haven't killed anyone off in a story yet so I decided to give it a go. Apologies to all Nightwing fans!
Yellow for Youth and Joy
By
Peggie
"Nearly there Dick, almost home." I hear him moan quietly in response to my words. I don't know what else to do, there's blood everywhere, it's dripping down off the seats onto the floor of the car. I am doing what Alfred instructed, I am applying pressure to the abdominal wound, but still the blood is just pouring out of him. Its covering my gauntlet, the dressing I am using has just become a soaking red rag. I tighten the tourniquet around his leg a little more.
"God, this is my son. You can't take my son away." I know I just shouted that out because I see Alfred's eyes mist over when I glance at his image on the monitor.
"Bruce, Son, you've got to keep your nerve. Dr Leslie's on her way. I've got everything ready here!" He reassures me.
He doesn't need to ask how Nightwing is, how his grandson is, because he can see from the medical monitors. I can tell from his face that he is every bit as aware of how serious the injuries are as I am.
Oracle alerted us to the fact that Dick had lost contact on the outskirts of Gotham almost twenty minutes ago. He'd been following a truck seen in the area where toxic waste was being illegally dumped. When I found him he was at laid in the road seriously injured. He'd been run off the road. His bike totally crushed under the wheels of a truck. From the look of him Dick had been dragged along. His leg is almost severed and he has massive abdominal wounds.
Hospital would be better, but it's too far away, Dick won't make it. The cave is only a third of the distance. If I can get him there Alfred can stabilise him. I know Alfred can save him. He's saved me from death so many times. I know he can save Dick, he's got to be able to do it! Once Dick is stabilised, then we can get him to hospital. To hell with the questions it may raise, to hell with the possibility of blowing Batman's cover, I would give up everything for this young man, for my son!
Without slowing we pass through the caves entrance. As we skid to a halt I see Alfred stood ready in surgical greens. He's got the infirmary ready, bags of blood are stacked up on the equipment trolley next to the examination table.
"We're here son!" I whisper. "Alfred's going to sort you out and Leslie's on her way."
I lift the boy out of the car, he doesn't murmur or groan. The bleeding has slowed, Thank God!
I rush him over to the table and gently lay him down. I see Alfred examine Dick, then he hesitates, he stops, and he seems to crumble.
A grab him by the shoulders and scream at him to help my son.
"You're letting him die! Do something!" I scream into his face.
Alfred just shakes his head. Tears causing down his tired old face, he utters the words I don't want to hear. "Bruce, it's too late, there's nothing I can do, he's gone!"
"He's not, you can save him, I know you can. Do something." I plead.
Alfred just shakes his head. He's trying to embrace me but I fight him off.
I grab the defibrillator paddles a try shocking my son's heart back to life. I am still at it ten minutes later when Leslie enters the cave.
Alfred is just sat in a chair, watching the macabre pantomime as Dicks body jerks every time I apply the paddles. Shocked at the loss of Dick he is unable stop me.
Leslie pulls the plug to the defib unit and I am still stood there pressing buttons. Gently she tries to lead me away. That's when I turn on my life long friend. I do the unforgivable, I try and lay my guilt on him.
I pull the fragile, broken old man out of his seat and scream into his face. "You let him die, he's dead because of you! You could have saved him, it's your fault, you senile old fool!"
I feel a sharp slap across my face and feel Leslie pulling my hand off Alfred's jacket. He sinks back into the chair sobbing. I run off up to the Manor, to the library and lock myself in, this is my sanctuary, this is where I come to hide from pain. I look at the portrait of my parents, but I am too numb to feel anything.
Leslie is quietly knocking on the door calling my name, but I just ignore her. I curl up into a ball and sob.
It's almost daybreak and I am laid on the floor in the library. At first I am confused then I remember and I feel sick with the pain. When I open the door Leslie is sat on a chair across the hall. I look around for Alfred but he's not there.
"Where's Alfred?" I ask hesitantly.
"He's sorting things out!" she whispers tears flowing down her face. "There was nothing he could have done Bruce. There was nothing anyone could have done, even the best hospital surgical team couldn't have saved him."
"I know." I mutter guilt at my actions cutting what's left of me to pieces.
"Well, please tell Alfred that, because I not sure he knows what to believe right now. You weren't the only one who loved Dick!"
She's crying too, sobbing for a lost grandson. So I hold her tight.
"Alfred's made it look like Dick's bike went off the cliff just north of here, at Deadmans Bend. We can not have the body found Bruce, not with the defibrillator burns." Leslie whispers.
I shudder when I remember what I did last night. At the wounds I inflicted not only on the body of my dead son but on the soul of my closest friend. And despite what I did, still he's working at making things right for Bruce Wayne for Batman.
When I find him Alfred's in the Wayne cemetery he's just finished digging a grave next to my parents. It's covered over with boards and turf so prying eyes won't see it. He looks exhausted and for a moment fearful of me. That look of fear in his face shames me. How can I ever let him know how sorry I am?
"I though you would like him to be close to your parents. Then you can keep all your loved ones together."
I see tears in his eyes as he turns and walks away. All I can do is stand and watch. Then I sink down on the grass that covers my parent's graves and cry.
I find Alfred in the cave dressing Dick in clean clothes and talking to his dead grandson. I stand and listen because I am afraid if I move he'll hear me and I'll see the fear in his face again. I don't think I could stand to see that.
"I've always been so proud of you both, but you knew that though, didn't you." I hear him say in a broken voice, just above a whisper. "I also loved you both so much, that I felt physically sick, seeing you dash out into danger every night. I knew this day would come, when I would lose one or even both of you. But that doesn't make it any easier. Believe me, there was nothing I could do Dick," his voice catches, "I am sure there wasn't; despite what Bruce thinks; I couldn't save you, it was too late." He sound anything but sure, he sounds like a man trying to convince himself that what he is saying is true. "If I could son, I would gladly swap places with you right now. In fact I wish I was dead."
He stops talking and sinks into the chair head buried in his hands unable to continue. I kneel next to the chair but he's too lost in his grief to notice. I pull his frail body into my arms and hold him close. As I hold him I keep telling him how sorry I am. That it wasn't his fault. That I love him. I've not told him that since I was ten. After a while he returns the embrace and its my turn to cry. I am crying for the loss of the young man who became my son. Also for the pain I inflicted on the man who became my father.
Looking at us both Leslie stands near. When Alfred releases me, she put her arms around me, then Alfred. I see them talking then quietly Alfred leaves.
"You'll want some time alone with Dick, Bruce, to say your goodbyes." With that she walks away.
I nod, my heart seems to shatter, goodbye is so permanent. I look at Dick, at my son, my heir and I don't know what to say. I just lift his limp body into my arms and hold him close. Why the hell didn't I do this when he was alive? After what seems an eternity I find the words I want.
"I am sorry son, for all the fights, for all the arguments. I was always so proud of you, so proud. I loved you Dick, so much,.. perhaps too much. I hope you knew that's!"
"He knew it Bruce and he loved you too, just as much!"
I turn around and see Barbara Gordon; Oracle, sittings in her wheel chair. Her face red from crying looking at me with soft blue eyes. "He always loved you just as if you were his father. Like most father and sons you couldn't agree but that didn't stop you loving each other."
I nod as I lower Dick's body back onto the table. Barbara moves closer and takes his hand.
"Can I have some time alone with him?"
I leave her to say her goodbyes.
Alfred and Leslie are sitting in the kitchen. He's wearing his chauffeur's uniform, which explains how Barbara got here.
"The mail man comes down past Deadmans Bend about ten. There are very few other vehicles use the road, so I don't expect the police until eleven at the earliest. It's five now we should get the funeral started by half six at the latest." Alfred is saying.
"What about a casket?" I ask. "I refuse to see my son just..."
"I've sorted that." Leslie says. "We're going to use one of the viewing caskets from the clinic. Alfred and I are just about to go and collect it."
I hear the old couple leave. I return to the cave to keep vigil for my son.
I don't know where Alfred found the old Circus Performer's prayer he said over Dick's grave but it perfectly summed up Dick, his life and his death.
As the two women return to the house I stay and helped Alfred make good. The final touch is a bright yellow rose.
"Yellow for youth and joy, Master Dick had both in abundance!" the old man said.
As he left me alone at the graveside I made a silent vow to get the people who stole him from us.
It's almost twelve thirty when the police come. Alfred, Barbara, Leslie and I are in the study when the doorbell sounds. Like a troop of actors waiting for the curtain to go up, we looked at each other. Alfred stands up, pulls his jacket straight and set his shoulders square. He leaves the room closing the doors behind him. We can hear voices softly speaking. Then more distinctly we heard Alfred's voice just outside the door. "I will break the news, sir, if you would please wait here."
He enters the room closing the door behind him, his face deathly white. Both women are already crying and I, I don't know what to do. "Your first reaction Bruce must be disbelief, denial is the first stage. Come on son, you can do it, for Batman," Alfred whispered "for Nightwing, for Dick."
And I play my part to perfection. The denial, then the grief (although that isn't play-acting). Alfred and I go with Jim Gordon to view the site of the supposed accident. Parts a Dick's vintage Harley were spread across the road, including the license plate. A large skid mark leads towards a gaping hole in the crash barrier and the remains of the bike can be seen on the rocks below. God it is so convincing, I don't want to think how the old man standing next to me had done it. I had a fair idea and the though of it scares me.
Jim explains what they thought had happened. He also explains how he has diving teams out looking for the body. Black laughter welled up inside me. Only Alfred calming embrace keeps it from spilling out.
Jim explains to me gently, what will happen if no body can be found. After a while we return to the Manor and Jim leaves to take his daughter home.
Leslie wants to give me a sedative, but I refuse. I make Alfred take one and leave Leslie looking after him. I know what ever happens they will be there to comfort each other.
I manage to rest for a while, to recover my energy. It'll be getting dark soon. So I change and become Batman. The change doesn't stop the pain but it gives it a purpose. I've got a vow to keep to my son. I intend to make the low life scum who killed my son pay.
"I love you Dick," I whisper as I stand before his grave, "I always did and always will." With that I set off hunting out the low life.
