Nightwing: Out of Time

Chapter 2

By Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: The following story contains characters and situations that are ©2002 by DC Comics Inc. and are used without permission for fan-related, non-profit entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2002 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in part or as a whole without the express written permission of the author.

Nightwing stared at the hot cup of coffee trying to figure out exactly how to explain his situation to Jonathan Law, the Tarantula. As Richard Grayson, he had studied under Law to learn about writing, but that would not occur for another six decades, at the beginning of the 21st century. Right now, he was sitting in the headquarters of the All-Star Squadron in 1943. "I'm from the future."

"So you say, kid," Tarantula answered. It was almost humorous having him say such a thing, being that he couldn't be more than five years older than Nightwing. "I'm inclined to believe you, only because you seem to know my name."

"Honestly, I am one of your biggest fans," Nightwing said.

Tarantula smiled. "I have to admit that you have good taste." He poured himself a second cup of coffee and offered Nightwing some more. The younger hero declined, stating he didn't want the caffeine. "Why the hell not?" was Tarantula's response as he pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes. Nightwing was shocked, as he was not aware that Jonathan had been a smoker at one time. "Like I said, I'm inclined to believe you, but it doesn't explain how you ended up out in our parking lot."

"Believe it or not, I was battling Per Degaton and he dropped me off here. I need to find a way back to the future before my presence causes a problem." Nightwing waited for a laugh or some comment about his sanity, but all Tarantula did was light up. "Per Degaton, eh? That rat bastard is nothing but a pain in the butt. As if we didn't have enough problems with Hitler and Tojo we've got that little leprechaun running around again. Let me guess, he was raiding the future for weapons?"

"I don't think I should talk about it, to be honest, just to be sure that I have as minimal effect on the future as possible. You do understand time paradoxes don't you?" Nightwing hoped he did, but this was a time before the atomic age. Tarantula sort of shrugged, so Nightwing explained. "Anything I do in the past may have an effect on the future. The worst case would be that I do something that prevents my birth."

"Yeah, but if you do that," Tarantula replied, "How can you travel back in time to screw things up to begin with."

"Yes," was Nightwing's short response.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, mister, before I join you on this quest to find your way back to the future."

Nightwing shrugged this time. "You've got the hots for Liberty Belle."

"We must be pretty damned close friends in the future for you to know that. It's true, I've got it pretty bad for her, but she's only got eyes for Johnny Quick…hey! Do we get married or at least get together?" There was such a hopeful look on his face that Nightwing felt bad when he considered the truth. In reality, Liberty Belle and Johnny Quick, really Libby Lawrence and Johnny Chambers, would get married one day and would have a daughter named Jessie, who was a close friend of Nightwing's.

I might be breaking a rule here, but…what the hell. John, you and Johnny Quick do not ever get together, much less get married."

"You're not even close to funny, boy."

Nightwing considered the situation he was in for a moment and then became lost in wonderment as he observed the world outside the windows of the car they were riding in. He was passing through a world that he had only experienced through movies, documentaries and magazine articles.

The world of 1943 America was so vastly different than the world he had come from. There was an almost palatable optimism in the air and he found it very refreshing. It was so hard to believe how much the world was going to change over the next few years. "It's beautiful," he commented softly.

Tarantula shifted gears and stepped on the gas. "You know, I'm using up my gas rations to help you out."

"If I had money, I'd pay you," Nightwing offered.

"I'm just pulling your leg, kid; don't worry about it. I'm wealthy enough that I can get a little extra fuel now and again." He turned a corner and honked at some drunken sailors who were carousing about. "So, what do you do for a living…hell, what's your name anyway?"

"They call me Bruce," Nightwing replied, smiling. He liked the idea of taking his adoptive father's name. He wasn't sure how the Batman would take it, but that was unimportant right now. "I'm a police officer."

"A copper, eh? No wonder you like my novels. What city?"

"Gotham City."

"Green Lantern's territory; you ever meet him?"

"I'd rather not say," Nightwing said as he reads signs in store windows, marveling at the low prices. The original Green Lantern, Alan Scott, had been the original Gotham City super-hero and was still active even in Nightwing's time period. Professionally, they had met before, but it would not occur for another five decades. "You understand, right?"

"Oh, sure," Tarantula replied, not sounding convinced at all. Nightwing noticed that he was very impatient about things once he was interested and he sort of understood why. After the war, Jonathan would write his greatest novel, a book about his life as the Tarantula. Nightwing had read it at least five times. "We're heading to an apartment owned by another of the more affluent members of the team. I've requested that some of the senior members of the Justice Society meet us there."

Nightwing briefly searched his mind about the history of the Justice Society of America. The team had disbanded when war was declared on December 8, 1941, so that the members could enlist in the armed forces. It would not reform officially until the war was won, but all of the members were part of the All-Star Squadron.

The All-Star Squadron was a team created by executive order of President Roosevelt as a way of using the costumed heroes of the United States as a way to prevent espionage on the home front. A mystical shield erected by Hitler and Japan's Dragon King kept the heroes from ending the war early. "Do you think any of them will respond?"

"Well, Bruce, I don't see why not. I'm working on a book about my adventures as hero and I don't think any of them want to be shown in a bad light in it." There was a smirk on his face and Nightwing just shook his head. "Hey, Bruce, what do you call yourself when you're in costume? The Blue Man?"

"You can just call me Bruce."

It was unnerving to be looking at so many heroes that were either dead or very old in his own time period, but Nightwing did his best to maintain his composure. He wanted to ask them for their autographs…a habit he picked up as Batman's young sidekick. His first one was Superman and many more followed after that.

The Tarantula was busy talking to the Sandman, who was clad in his trench coat and gas mask. There was a special bond between the two of them; in fact, their original costumes had been so similar that they were often confused for one another.

Green Lantern, the original, was standing next to Hawkman, while Jay Garrick, the Flash, was questioning Nightwing. "I wish we could have gotten the Spectre or Dr. Fate to come here, Bruce, but they aren't answering our calls. That's not uncommon for those two, though. I do have some experience in time travel, though."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Garrick," Nightwing responded. The Flash's jaw dropped. "How do you know my name?" he asked quietly.

Nightwing's face became flush as he realized that this was long before Garrick revealed his identity to the general public. He looked around and saw that none of the others appeared to have heard what he had said. "Sorry about that…let's just say there is a really strong connection between your legacy and the one I represent." That was truthful enough, Nightwing guessed.

In a few decades, police scientist Barry Allen would take up the name of the Flash long after Garrick had retired and would eventually give his life to save the universe. Allen's nephew, Wally West and Nightwing's best friend, would become the third Flash after Allen's death. "The name of the Flash is greatly respected where I'm from."

It was Garrick's turn to turn red. "Gosh…I don't know what to say."

Green Lantern interrupted them. "Bruce, your story is fantastic, but you're quite right that you don't need to be here. Your presence is already causing problems. By your accent, I can tell you're an American and that means we will probably win the war. That knowledge may affect our future actions."

"Oh, don't be so hard on him," Hawkman said. "I never had any doubt that we were going to win, GL."

Green Lantern turned to Hawkman and gave him a dour look. "Be that as it may, I think we all agree that young Bruce here is probably missed in his own time period and he would probably like to go home."

"Yes, I would," Nightwing said. "I'm pretty aware of all of your powers and I'd say that this side of Dr. Fate or the Spectre, Green Lantern is my best bet for getting back where I belong." He turned back to the Flash. "I'm sorry, sir, but as strange as it may sound, you actually won't learn the full extent of your abilities for decades and I'm not sure I'd like to travel through time with you."

"See," Green Lantern said, smacking his head, "now the Flash is aware he will live for at least a couple of more decades. This has got to stop."

"Hey, try being reincarnated a few hundred times," Hawkman added.

Green Lantern shook his head. "Bruce, with your help, I think I might be able to get you home. I think it would be best if we went to Gotham City, though. That is where you're from, correct?"

"Yes, Gotham City would be fine."

"It's settled then," Green Lantern announced.

Nightwing said nothing as they flew high in the air; Green Lantern surrounded by a shimmering field and Nightwing riding in a nice, warm green bubble. Tarantula had been the only one he had really regretted saying good-bye to; as it was very interesting to see what a smug son-of-a-buck his friend had been in his younger days. It would have been really nice to spend another day or so immersing himself in the world of 1943, but he understood Green Lantern's fears.

There was a rumor that circulated through the super-hero community that at the beginning of the war, Green Lantern had actually glimpsed the future of 1945 when the atomic bombs were used and it forever changed him. From that point on, the hero was very concerned about what knowledge a person had and when they had it.

Through the whole trip, Green Lantern had been quiet and Nightwing had to admire him for it. Had their roles been reversed, he would be asking all kinds of questions concerning the future, but the blond haired hero remained stoic. Nightwing decided to break the ice. "So, how is 1943 Gotham City?"

Green Lantern floated down next to the bubble, but maintained their forward momentum. "I suppose it's the same as your Gotham City, probably smaller, though."

"I doubt it; you will be surprised by the changes you will witness over the next few years…"

"You see? That's exactly what I'm talking about! So many people think that a time paradox can be caused only by actions, but your words can do it as well. Suppose that I believe that I'm not going to die for another ten years…how is that going to affect my ability to combat crime if I have this sense of invulnerability? Worse yet," he added, shaking a finger at Nightwing, "what happens at the end of that 10 years when I decide I don't want to die? Have you any idea what a desperate man with this ring could do?"

Nightwing was about to respond and then the image of Hal Jordan came into his mind. Jordan was the second man to take the title of Green Lantern, several decades from where he was at the moment. Fearless, he became a shining example of exactly what it meant to be a hero and several members of Nightwing's generation of crime-fighters admired him and tried to emulate his dedication to the cause of good.

Away from the planet, Jordan had not been able to stop the alien conqueror Mongul from destroying Coast City, where Jordan had grown up and lived. Jordan tried to use his power ring afterwards to try and resurrect the city and its inhabitants, but the Guardians of the Universe, who administrated the Green Lantern Corps at the time, stopped him. The Guardians claimed that Jordan was trying to use the ring for selfish reasons.

Jordan snapped and destroyed the Corps and the Guardians and even went so far as to try and rewrite history by manipulating the time stream. In the end, Hal Jordan had ended up dead alongside several million others. "Actually, sir, you may have a point there. Maybe we just shouldn't talk."

"Wise advice, son," Green Lantern said, floating back up above Nightwing.

"Damn it!" Green Lantern called out as they approached the skyline of Gotham City. Nightwing stood up in his energy bubble and pressed against the green skin, in utter awe of the city. It was far different from what he was used to, as there was very little pollution and he could see well past the city limits, into the county proper.

Because so many of the buildings before him did not exist in his own time period, after a devastating earthquake, he had trouble figuring out which direction was what. He was looking desperately for Wayne Manor, the place where he grew up and came to respect a lonely man named Bruce Wayne. They began to descend rapidly towards the somewhat busy downtown area. "What's going on?" Nightwing called.

Green Lantern floated down and tapped his ring. "I've got it set to monitor the police radio whenever I get within twenty miles. It appears an old friend of mine is running loose downtown."

"Who? Is it Per Degaton?"

"Worse…Solomon Grundy," Green Lantern replied, his eyes squinting as they approached the street. "This is my problem, not yours. Go hide somewhere and stay out of trouble until I finish this."

"I can help…"

"No! Absolutely not! Don't you understand how much you've meddled with time already? I wasn't planning on coming to Gotham today, which means I probably was not supposed to fight Grundy. Now I have to…"

Nightwing nodded his understanding, but couldn't help but feel disappointed. Here was his chance to fight alongside a real legend, the very first "Superman", and he couldn't do it because he might accidentally cause the destruction of the Earth. As he moved across the street, passed the gawking citizens who were looking only at Green Lantern, he mentally chastised himself for being such a crybaby.

It was no wonder that Alan Scott, the Green Lantern, was still around in the 21st century and still battling evil. He was serious about everything he did and weighed the consequences of all his actions. Nightwing began to understand why the Justice Society had remained active for so long, even after the formation of the Justice League of America. For the most part, the heroes of the future were over-powered smart-alecs, the only exceptions being maybe Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman.

Maybe if he quit whining he might learn something, he told himself. From a darkened alleyway, he watched as Green Lantern pointed his ring in the general direction of what looked like a bank. Only now did the young hero observe a large gaping hole in the wall and inside he could see bags of money and loose bills.

Nightwing knew from the Batman's extensive database on criminals that Solomon Grundy was one of Green Lantern's oldest foes and had been one of the first adversaries of the newly formed All-Star Squadron. Grundy was more like a rotten child than a true villain, as he was, reportedly, nothing more that magically animated vegetable matter. The fact that he was infused with wood is what made him an especially dangerous being in regards to Green Lantern.

Unlike the power rings distributed by the Guardians of the Universe, such as what Hal Jordan would possess years in the future, Alan Scott's ring was magical in nature, not technological. Jordan's ring was useless against anything colored yellow, while Scott's was powerless against wood.

Grundy, like Green Lantern, would survive until the twenty-first century and would even redeem himself somewhat by taking on a sort-of protector role for Scott's daughter, Jennie Lynn-Hayden. That, however, was not going to be true for a very, very long time and right now, they Emerald Gladiator was doing his best to move people out of the way of the bank with a giant green hand.

Solomon Grundy, over seven feet tall and the color of virgin snow from top to bottom, save for the torn black suit he wore, burst from the front doors of the bank carrying several bags of money. Nightwing smiled despite himself when he saw that the bags actually had small dollar signs imprinted on them, as if this were some bad comic strip. "Solomon Grundy is heah and ya'll best run if ya know what's good for ya!" the beast cried. His southern accent seemed so out of place in the bustling metropolis of Gotham.

"Hold it right there!" a police officer cried. Somehow, the young cop had gotten past Green Lantern's safety zone and was now trying to make a name for himself. As a police officer outside of costume, Nightwing suddenly felt a rush of emotion as he realized a brother in blue was in danger. The cop, armed only with a small pistol, was simply no match for the pale behemoth.

"Little man gonna get swatted!" Grundy roared as he stepped down the stairs. Several bills fluttered out of the bag's tops. The country was in the middle of a war and cash was a rare thing, Nightwing understood, and the loss of even this relatively small amount couldn't help the economy.

Green Lantern must have had the same thought as he directed several other officers to hurry and collect the scattering funds. "Grundy! Get away from there and surrender!"

The officer attempted to pull the trigger of his firearm, but he was shaking too much as Grundy approached him. Magically enhanced muscles flexed and with a quick sweeping motion, the man-monster used one of the bags to smack the cop across the face. The officer flew back several feet to land on the pavement unconscious. "No!" Green Lantern cried, now flying towards his foe.

Grundy dropped the bags of money and bent over just in time to miss Green Lantern's flying attack. Nightwing was amazed at Grundy's speed and Green Lantern's agility. The hero was already arcing up and coming around for another attack.

So lost in watching the battle, Nightwing failed to notice a small boy that had come to stand next to him. Embarrassed that he had been so neglect in his observations, he decided that the time for hero worship was long over. It had always been a problem with him in that he just found so many of the older heroes larger than life. These were people who had the power to rule the Earth, but instead concentrated on trying to make it a better place for everyone.

He reached down and pulled the boy back into the alleyway slightly. "Watch yourself, sonny; things could get ugly out there."

The boy, dark-haired and missing two front teeth looked up and grinned. "Are you a soooper-hero?" he asked in childlike innocence.

"Something like that," Nightwing responded, reaching down and checking his utility belt. Green Lantern had just made a mistake and was now eating Grundy's fist. "I'm trying to help out Green Lantern."

"He's neat!" the boy offered.

"My thoughts exactly…whoa!" Nightwing grabbed the boy and leapt clear of the falling wall of the building they were next to. In an effort to strike Green Lantern, Grundy had actually picked up a taxicab and flung it at him. The hero had avoided it but had not been able to turn in time to grab it with a magical green hand.

As bricks, mortar and glass crashed into the alleyway, Green Lantern breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Nightwing had the young boy in his arms. He nodded a thank you and then set his jaw. "This ends now," he said, his ringing glowing even brighter.

Nightwing stood up, still holding the boy. "Gee, thanks mister!" the boy offered.

"Thomas! Thomas Wayne!" a woman cried. Waving her hands hysterically she ran to where they stood. Behind her, a tall man with a cane and monocle also was running. "Son! Are you alright!" she said, taking the boy from Nightwing.

The name he had heard was that of Bruce Wayne's father, who would later be killed before young Bruce's eyes and give rise to the Batman. The woman had tears in her eyes. She was not a particularly beautiful woman, but she seemed to ooze "motherness". The man, on the other hand, seemed too tall for his clothes, as if he had owned the same suit for years and refused to get a new one.

"He saved me, momma. He's a sooooper-hero!"

"I can't thank you enough, sir," the man said offering his hand. Behind Nightwing, Solomon Grundy roared in pain and the crowd actually cheered. "Thomas is always running away, getting into things." Another boy, slightly older than Thomas and still carrying a good portion of his baby fat came running up. The man turned to the boy. "Frank! Did we not tell you to watch your brother!"

There was an unexpected flash of light behind Nightwing, but he paid it no attention, as the people in front of him seemed to indicate there was no problem. Nightwing released Mr. Wayne's hand and reached down to mess up Thomas's hair. "No problem, ma'am. Believe me, it means more to me than you could ever imagine."

"I'm gonna help people too when I grow up," Thomas offered.

"That's right, dear," his mother said, tears running down her face. "Never, ever do that again, Thomas! I swear, you are always just jumping into trouble!"

Nightwing regarded the boy and it boggled his mind when he considered that one day, Thomas Wayne would marry and have a child. Then he would die and leave that child alone in the world and when Richard Grayson's parents were killed, Thomas Wayne's child would literally save his life.

Without Thomas Wayne's death, there would be no Batman. Without Batman, there would be Robin and then no Nightwing. Yet, if there had been no Nightwing to save Thomas Wayne…

He said his good-byes and turned in time to see Solomon Grundy finally trapped in a cage made from hot, sticky tar from the road. When he looked back, the Wayne family was gone.

"You know, dropping him in a swamp may not be the brightest thing…"

"Even if he's technically not human, I'm not killing him and there is no prison right now that can hold him. I have to take each problem one at a time; there is a war going on you know," Green Lantern responded. They were standing on top of city hall and Nightwing was looking out at the river.

"How's the police officer that got hurt?"

"He'll live, thank God. Only been back from Europe for a few months..." Green Lantern turned to look out at the river as well. "Sometimes I get so wrapped up in being Green Lantern I forget about everything that I love about this city. Can you smell it, the smell of the river?"

Nightwing inhaled deeply. It was the first time he had ever smelled Gotham River and not wanted to gag. "Smells good. So, are you ready?"

Green Lantern nodded and fingered his ring. "I think I know what to do…but to be truthful, I wish I could get a hold of the Spectre or Dr. Fate."

"I trust you," Nightwing added with a smile.

"You don't have a choice," Green Lantern added. Stepping back, he brought his ring up and enveloped Nightwing in a green energy bubble. The task wasn't so much to move him through time as opposed to having time move through him. By putting him in a form of suspended animation and making him intangible and invisible, Nightwing would essentially be locked in a time capsule set to open in the future.

In seconds, Nightwing was gone and yet Green lantern's ring told him he was still there, waiting for the day he would once again be ready to join the world.

Alan Scott scratched the back of his head as he walked down the busy streets of Gotham City. It was dark now and his Green Lantern uniform was soaking in the tub, hopefully getting the tar smell out of it and he was hoping to catch a picture show.

It was tough trying to act normal during an abnormal time; he could hear the whispers as he walked by people. He was a relatively young man in a city devoid of young men. All that could had already enlisted for the war effort, leaving women, children and old men for the most part. Certainly he was not the only man his age to not join, but the stigma still stuck to him like a second skin.

He passed a newsboy hawking papers and purchased the evening edition of the Gotham Gazette to see a headline about his battle with Solomon Grundy. As he walked along, reading the story, his eye dropped to the bottom of the page where there was a rather unique picture. The caption read "masked man saves small boy" and there was a picture of Nightwing standing with that Wayne family from earlier.

"That idiot…"

Slowly, sound began to filter into Nightwing's ears as the world slowly came alive for him. His eyes fluttered open and he saw the remnants of the green energy bubble dissipating. "That was quick," he said, stretching. His muscles hurt, like he had been standing straight for several hours.

"Where did you come from?" Batman asked.

Nightwing was surprised to his mentor standing there. He was about to respond when he noticed that the Batman's chest emblem was different than what it should be. Instead of a solid black bat that he taken to wearing of late; he had reverted to the more famous black bat in the yellow oval. "Why the costume change, Batman?" It was a matter of super-hero etiquette that real names were never used until it was absolutely safe.

The Dark Knight Detective reached under his cape and Nightwing noticed that his moves were not as…mature as they should be. He was making offensive moves that Nightwing was easily picking up. "Keep your hands where I can see them," Batman said. There was the voice of authority that he remembered so well from his younger days. It could not be faked. "Batman…it's me, Nightwing."

"Never heard of you, pal," a voice behind him said.

Nightwing froze. "No, no, no," he said, turning around slowly. The voice he heard was as familiar to him as anything else he could think of.

"You make any false moves and you're going to regret it," the young man said.

Nightwing shook his head as he took in the sight of the youth. He looked almost comical in the yellow cape, orange vest and green booties. "Did I really look that stupid?" he asked silently.

Standing before him, Richard Grayson, clad in his Robin costume, punched a gloved fist into an open palm.

End Part 2.