Any others you don't recognize are mine.
I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Rated PG : language; violence.
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They moved through a world of silver moonlight and pools of inky shadow, the stark moonscape of a litter of construction equipment and supplies; strange machines sitting silent and still, the building's framework rising into the sky above them. Batman was gratified to notice that Nightwing was able to move without sound as they slipped closer, following the murmur of voices carried on the night air.
A backhoe provided cover as they watched three of the men they were stalking stop at the temporary elevator the workers used, an open-sided cage without a door. The three paused, waiting for their last member to catch up as he picked his way over the uneven ground.
Anthony Zucco. He was older than the others, short and thick, a barrel of a body and a round, pudgy face with a cigar stuck in it; an ugly appearance to match the ugliness inside. Batman glanced at his companion, seeing him staring intently, eyes narrowed. In the near silence, the criminals' voices came to them clearly.
Zucco pulled the cigar from his mouth and waved it at a man in a plaid jacket. "Lester, you stay down here as lookout," he said. "Bring the plastique, boys. We'll plant it farther up."
Batman recognized the other two. One was Zucco's main lieutenant, Archie Silver, better known by the charming and appropriate nickname of Blade. The other was Norm Martin, no nickname but an equally bad reputation. Blade picked up the bag and they both followed their boss. A moment later, with a whine of machinery, they were being lifted into the air.
Shadowy movement caught Batman's eye and he turned his head to see Nightwing moving away, circling to get behind Lester, who was watching the elevator rise. He followed, caught up, reached out -- but Nightwing evaded him and darted forward, sliding an escrima stick from its holder on his back. There was only a faint crack as it swung into the back of the lookout's neck. He fell, and lay still.
"Dammit, I told you to follow my orders," Batman hissed in an angry whisper.
"Did you have a better idea? We had to take him out."
Batman glared at him for another moment, but there was no time for an argument. "Okay. What's done is done." He looked up, watching the elevator car still rising. "Look, fighting them up there is going to be dangerous. I'm used to this kind of thing, but if you're not a trained acrobat or gymnast-"
"Don't worry about me. Come on, they're stopping."
"All right." Batman gave his temporary partner a -- hopefully -- intimidating look. "Stay back. I'll take them on, you go after the explosive. Got it?"
"I've got it."
"Climb up behind me. Emphasis on behind." Hoping he had made an impression this time, Batman looked up again and reached into his utility belt for his rope, bringing out a small device resembling an airgun. He aimed and squeezed the trigger, hearing a soft swoosh as it fired, sending the line and the small hook fastened to its end arcing up to loop around a cross girder just inches from the column they were standing next to. It caught the first time, and after testing it with a pull, he began to climb.
Glancing back, Batman saw Nightwing swinging a thin rope above his head and then tossing it up to land very near his own line and catch on its own hook. He shook his head briefly. Doing it on his own, trying to prove himself most likely, actually pretty understandable -- as long as he didn't get himself killed doing it.
They climbed, stopping for a few seconds on each floor to throw the ropes up again. Nightwing was doing okay, pulling himself up with impressive strength and endurance, taking his cues from Batman, needing only the occasional nod or gesture. He was behaving himself, for now, and they seemed to have fallen into the same smooth teamwork that had worked so well in the restaurant. A strange feeling. Partner. Somehow it seemed almost natural. But this would be the end of it, Batman promised himself, he wasn't going to let this kid have the same kind of life he had, assuming he had any life at all if he kept this up.
Then there was no more time for such thoughts as they paused on the floor beneath Zucco and his men, peering up, taking a moment to rest. Batman beckoned and led the way to the opposite side of the building, where they could make the final climb without taking the risk of being seen. Another minute and he was going up again, cautiously approaching the same level as Zucco and his men, feeling the stretch and pull of his muscles as they began to protest. He swung a leg onto the metal surface, pushed himself up to a kneeling position as Nightwing joined him, waiting to make sure they hadn't been spotted.
"I'll draw them off. You get the plastique," he whispered.
"Whatever you say, boss."
With a frown, Batman rose to his feet, taking a moment to size up their surroundings as the chill night breeze wrapped his cape around his body. Girders crisscrossed the space that would someday be a floor. Here and there patches of planking had been laid across them, providing temporary flooring for the workers. The long drop to the ground showed darkly in the spaces in between. The gang was on the other side, on one of those slightly safer temporary floors. They seemed absorbed in what they were doing, one of them crouching, preparing the explosive undoubtedly.
They held on to the column while Batman decided which direction to move in. Had to cross on these girders, a balancing act, only a narrow bar of metal between them and a deadly fall. At least the wind was steady, and not very strong. He took another look at his companion. "We have to walk on these girders," he said softly. "Can you do it?"
"Just watch me."
"Don't look down. Keep your eyes on where you're headed."
"Jesus, stop worrying about me, will you? I've flown without a net before."
Interesting... With a mental shrug, Batman turned and led the way. Familiar feelings gripped him in the quiet night, moving through black bands of shadow cast in the moonlight by the beams above them; heading into another battle, knowing this one might well be his last. How many times had he done this? How many more times would there be? He felt the same mixture of exhilaration and terror that always gripped him, and welcomed it, welcomed the surge of energy and alertness that came with it. The day he stopped being afraid was the day he would die.
They crossed, Nightwing right behind him, apparently unaffected by the height. Clung to the next column. Repeated the process, getting closer to their goal; Zucco and his boys, finishing their task. Batman stopped and waved his companion back to cover. Then -- a moment to steady himself, to push the fear down, to control and even use it. And he stepped out into the open.
Voices drifted to him faintly. Zucco's harsh tones; "Just the top of the building. That'll put a scare into them. If they don't pay up, next time-"
"Look, over there! Someone on the girder!" Blade had seen him first. The others swung around to stare.
Batman heard Zucco's low exclamation of, "The Batman! Get him!"
A quick movement, and he melted behind a column as the guns came out. Fingers reaching into his belt, then he was taking aim and sending a batarang zipping through the air, hitting Martin in the head, sending him reeling back. The pistol fell from his hand, bounced, and plunged over the edge of their small patch of flooring. Batman smiled fractionally. One less gun to worry about.
And then he ducked back as they began to shoot, another batarang in his hand, waiting for his chance... but there was the sudden sound of impact, accompanied by yelps of pain and surprise. Batman risked a quick look and saw Nightwing, not safely hidden as ordered but dropping from a rope he had obviously used to swing right into the midst of the gang. He landed, pulled out his sticks again, and swung one at Blade, disarming him. Another movement, almost too fast to follow, and Martin was down, hit solidly in the back of the head.
Batman cursed, took quick aim, and threw, hitting Zucco in the wrist as he was about to fire, feeling a moment's satisfaction as he watched the gun sail through the air and vanish. Blade's pistol seemed to be gone, too. Good, he hated guns. But the fight wasn't over. Blade fell back on his weapon of choice, moonlight gleaming from the edge of the knife he was now holding. He feinted, driving Nightwing back a step.
"Stand still, Bat-boy," he growled. "I'll make this fast."
"The name's Nightwing. And you'll never get near me."
Zucco bent to pick up a discarded crowbar and began to close in on them as Nightwing backed closer to the side of the building. Batman started forward, running across the last girder between him and their patch of flooring. And then the unexpected happened. Nightwing dodged another jab of the knife -- and slipped on the surface of the girder at the outer edge of the building, losing his balance. As he teetered, Blade came at him again, swinging the knife, forcing him to twist away. Nightwing looked down -- struggled for footing -- and then toppled over, disappearing from view.
"Nooo!" Batman hardly recognized his own voice as he cried out in denial. Another life cut off right in front of his eyes, a life that had begun to mean something to him... He froze in horror, but only for an instant. There was nothing more he could do -- except to take revenge on the killers. With a leap he barreled into Zucco, knocking him flat with a savage backhand, and then turned on Blade.
"I'll make sure you fry for that!" he snarled.
"Yeah? You have to get past this first!" The knife caught the light, flashing as he slashed. But Batman slid away, turned sideways, and kicked, catching Blade in the gut and slamming him backwards into a column. He hit hard and rebounded, stunned for the split-second it took Batman to grab his wrist, sending the knife clattering to the flooring.
"I should save everyone the trouble and take care of you myself..." Batman grasped Blade by the collar and wrapped his fingers around his neck, watching his eyes widen in fear. If only... if only that would bring back the young man he had already begun to like more than he had realized... but nothing would, not even killing this slimeball.
"Nice to know you care, but I'm not dead yet!" The shout came from below. Startled, Batman dragged his captive closer to the edge and looked over, to be greeted by an unexpected and very welcome sight. Nightwing was climbing to his feet on a girder suspended from one of the tall construction cranes, perhaps twelve feet below them and ten feet away from the side of the building.
Relief almost made him smile -- but not quite. There was still business to take care of. Batman tightened his grip on Blade again. "Your good luck he's not dead," he said, letting his voice drop into the silky murmur they all seemed to find so menacing. "But you're not off the hook. You came here to blow up this building, and the cops will have plenty of evidence. But I want more than that on Zucco. And you know plenty."
"I'm not talking!"
"It's a long way down..." Batman turned, balancing Blade on the very edge of the girder, letting him look into the darkness below.
"You -- you won't do it...!"
Unfortunately, he was right -- but he didn't know that. As they stared at each other, a sound split the air; sirens, police cars pulling up. Not much time left. "Think I won't kill you?" Batman asked softly, seeing Blade's eyes get rounder and wider. "You must be confusing me with Superman... If it's not today, it'll be someday soon... sometime when you're least expecting it... every shadow in the night might be me, every time you come home I could be waiting for you... you won't even be safe in jail, if Zucco gets off..."
"No... No!" Blade gasped as one of his feet slipped on the edge.
"Or maybe right now... no one would see if I just let you fall, would they? No one would care..." Batman lifted him slightly, letting him look over the edge again.
"All right! I'll say whatever you want!"
The next events were so quick, he had no time to react, or even to fully realize what was happening until it was too late to stop it. Batman blinked as light stabbed up from below, seeming very bright after the silvery illumination of the moon and distant streetlights. Zucco's voice shouted, "Rat!" behind him, and a heavy body crashed into him, shoving hard, and then he was over the edge, falling, seeing the ground so far below, nothing to hold on to, Blade screaming as he fell also...
Something dark flashed into his view, black and midnight blue, a hand reaching out as he instinctively grabbed at it. They grasped each other's wrists as Nightwing flew over him. Then, with an abrupt jerk, he was no longer falling. Batman looked up to see the other man holding on to a girder with one arm, the other supporting him as they swung back and forth for a few seconds.
"Hang on," Batman said, as he pulled his rope-gun from his belt.
"Don't worry... about me..." But Nightwing's voice was strained.
It took only a moment to attach a rope to the beam and lower himself to the next level. Another for Nightwing to grab the rope and slide down. He landed, and stood hunched, rubbing his shoulder.
"You okay? You took quite a jolt with that arm," Batman said.
"Yeah. Ever think about losing weight?" Nightwing moved his arm gingerly, winced, but added only, "I'll be all right."
"Come on, we have to get out of here."
"What about Zucco?" Nightwing looked up.
Batman nodded downward, at the police visible below. "The only way down for him is that elevator. A dozen cops saw him push Blade and me over. I don't think we need to worry about him anymore."
They both looked down for another moment. Flashlights moved across the ground, converging on the spot where Blade lay until he was the center of a pool of light. He had fallen onto a pile of long metal spikes, and a few of them had gone through him, casting shadows over still-flowing trails of blood. Batman gave the gruesome scene only a glance before turning away, but Nightwing stared, and began to sway unsteadily.
"Come on," Batman said gently, taking his arm.
Together, they moved towards the other side of the building, fastened their ropes, and descended the floors in silence, finally reaching street level. Luckily, the police hadn't reached this side yet, and it was sheltered from the lights. But it was bright enough for Batman to recognize the look on Nightwing's face.
"Hold it down," he said. "Just until we get to the other side of the street."
He found a garbage can in a dark spot, watched Nightwing double up over it, listened to him retch, awkwardly patted his shoulder, handed him a handkerchief to wipe his mouth with, and waited for him to recover.
"Guess you think I'm a total wuss now," the younger man said finally, his voice still a little unsteady.
"It wasn't a wuss who caught me in midair. You saved my life."
"Not going to say you could have saved your own neck?"
"Not this time. Feel better now?"
Nightwing shrugged. "It's over... all over." He turned away, starting for the street.
"Wait!" Batman called. "You sure you'll be okay?"
"Yeah. Just -- need to go home..." But he paused after another step. "Thanks," he said softly. And was gone.
TBC...