Lost Hope Chapter 2
No Hope
He stood atop the tallest building in Gotham, defying the wind and rain that pummeled his skin even through the Kevlar that enfolded him. Lightning struck all around him. His cape and cowl gave him no protection, but he didn't care. A fire of hate burned deep within him...he would defy the Gods themselves for answers.
Bruce wanted to wake from this nightmare and never sleep again. That's what he was doing, when word came. His eyes opened to the sad mask of sorrow of a man that in another life was known as a man of steel. But there was no steel in him this day; he had been crying, one more piece of a puzzle that he had never seen in the alien from Krypton. A dark mask he hoped to never live long enough to see again. What kind of horrors could be so great that it could rip through this walking shield of justice like kryptonite? The momentary anger from disturbed sleep was stopped as if it slammed into a wall of lead. The Dark Knight remembered trying to breathe...to talk, to scream...but nothing would come. Instead he just waited; waited for the world to collapse in on them both.
"Bruce," Clark whispered. "I'm sorry. I..."
Bruce sat up in his oversized bed as Clark fell into the chair next to him.
"I'm sorry. We...Uhh, the JLA just received a report...Dick is missing...presumed dead." Before Bruce could strike out at his word, Clark turned the television on.
The news flashed a picture of Nightwing in the corner as Lois Lane reported from a large bay window at the Metropolis International Airport. "...The passenger, a man believed to be in shock over witnessing this horror, was taken to a local hospital." As the reporter continued, an amateur film of the black sky replaced the picture of Nightwing.
The dark outline of the T-Jet was barely visible when the lightning lit up the sky. Then, suddenly, what appeared as a ball of lightning struck the rescue jet. It veered away from the crippled craft and fell from the sky as the only light in the storm. Suddenly a series of explosions in the distance seemed to drown out the other flashes of lights in the storm and the sky went dark. "...There will be an inquiry into the incident as soon as the storm passes and the wreckage of the Titans T-Jet can be found. But for now all the JLA, the Titans, and the rest of the world can do is wait.
"To recap, Nightwing, leader of the group of young superheroes known as The Titans, is missing, presumed dead. After a daring rescue of Brit Airlines flight 407, from London to Metropolis. This is Lois Lane..." Clark turned off the television and the screen went black.
Bruce wasn't sure how long he stared at the blank screen. His mind suddenly went dead. He couldn't think, he couldn't see, he couldn't remember how to breathe. The next thing Bruce recalled was being shaken into reality by Clark, and hearing his name as if it was coming from downstairs instead of the worried man in front of him. Reality struck him hard in the chest as the words he had just been told came tumbling out, "Dick is gone."
Clark could see his face harden with that deep lack of emotion, as if he had just reached behind his head and pulled his cowl on. "I suppose the Titans already know," he growled. Clark just nodded his head.
Then I should contact Barbara and let her know. And of course I...I have to tell Tim," he mumbled as he attempted to stand on rubbery legs.
"They know, Bruce. Young Justice was working with JLA at the time Oracle got the call."
"Then I guess all I have to...I have to find Alfred. He can't find out like this. I don't even know where he is. He was going to visit his brother in England. I..."
"He knows too, Bruce."
Bruce looked up, almost angry at the thought that someone might have dumped such horrid news on the man that raised him.
"Bruce, Alfred was on the plane that Dick saved. He saw the whole thing. He was so devastated they took him to Metropolis Memorial to be checked out. They thought he might have had another heart attack, a minor one. But you know Alfred, he began taking over the hospital about five minutes after he got there."
"I'll get dressed and go get him."
"You can't get there in this weather. It's a wonder they haven't tried to evacuate the manor. Look, he contacted me before I came. He says to tell you he is fine, and will ride out the storm in Metropolis. He told me that he would like for us forget our differences long enough to work together to find Dick, or at least recover his body..." Clark watched as Bruce barely acknowledged he heard him. "When the storm clears, I will bring Alfred home, Bruce. I promise."
"The storm?"
"Hurricane Willow made a turn for land just about the time Dick's plane went down. They expect landfall about 7pm tomorrow, somewhere north of Bludhaven. Tempest is already conducting a search of the sea. I should be able to do one from the air by midnight tonight. I tried earlier but...Look, Bruce, there is no telling where the wreckage has been strewn and the chance of finding his body is well...I'm sorry."
Somehow Bruce knew; saying the chances of recovery were slim to none would be optimistic. Dick must have survived the lightning strike, the explosion and the crash, and then if Dick survives that, the next challenge would be surviving the storm while in the water. If Dick isn't injured so badly he can't survive alone in the ocean...there might be some molecule of hope. He just wasn't sure where to look for it. Dick, after all, was the only link to hope he had left.
"The JLA and Titans are going to meet at Titans Tower in New York. If you would like to come I can take you. It's kind of a candlelight vigil. Most of them will be too busy after the storm hits to participate in the search, but myself, Wally, and a few of the Titans are going to give it a try. You're welcome to come along."
"NO!" Bruce yelled. "This doesn't change things. I'm still the same person you kicked out of the JLA. I'm a loner, remember? I can't be trusted anymore. If Robin and Nightwing choose to continue to work with the JLA, that is strictly up to them, but I didn't need your help before and I don't need it now."
Clark was certain the words hit Bruce as hard as they struck out at him. Then, as if Bruce was suddenly pushed away and the Batman persona regained control, all emotion left his voice. "I'm sorry, Clark. No, thank you. I appreciate your offer, but mourning is something I am well versed in. There is one thing you could do for me to save time...if you could get me a copy of the amateur film they showed, I would appreciate it. I also need the reports from the Titans, especially those on the rescue mission. I will know why and how this accident happened. If I need anything else I will contact you or the Titans. As for Alfred, if he is going to be okay in Metropolis, there will be things I should take care of here. I would appreciate it if you would make sure he is comfortable and safe. Anything he needs, let me know I will take care of it...Anything..."
"Gotcha," Clark returned, trying hard to put on a strong front. He smiled slightly and left the room. It was the last thing Bruce remembered before he found himself dressed as the Dark Knight standing on top of the tallest building in the city like a great dark lightning rod, in the worse storm he had seen in ages. Then, as if to curse the Gods, he shook his fists in the wind and screamed.
No Hope
He stood atop the tallest building in Gotham, defying the wind and rain that pummeled his skin even through the Kevlar that enfolded him. Lightning struck all around him. His cape and cowl gave him no protection, but he didn't care. A fire of hate burned deep within him...he would defy the Gods themselves for answers.
Bruce wanted to wake from this nightmare and never sleep again. That's what he was doing, when word came. His eyes opened to the sad mask of sorrow of a man that in another life was known as a man of steel. But there was no steel in him this day; he had been crying, one more piece of a puzzle that he had never seen in the alien from Krypton. A dark mask he hoped to never live long enough to see again. What kind of horrors could be so great that it could rip through this walking shield of justice like kryptonite? The momentary anger from disturbed sleep was stopped as if it slammed into a wall of lead. The Dark Knight remembered trying to breathe...to talk, to scream...but nothing would come. Instead he just waited; waited for the world to collapse in on them both.
"Bruce," Clark whispered. "I'm sorry. I..."
Bruce sat up in his oversized bed as Clark fell into the chair next to him.
"I'm sorry. We...Uhh, the JLA just received a report...Dick is missing...presumed dead." Before Bruce could strike out at his word, Clark turned the television on.
The news flashed a picture of Nightwing in the corner as Lois Lane reported from a large bay window at the Metropolis International Airport. "...The passenger, a man believed to be in shock over witnessing this horror, was taken to a local hospital." As the reporter continued, an amateur film of the black sky replaced the picture of Nightwing.
The dark outline of the T-Jet was barely visible when the lightning lit up the sky. Then, suddenly, what appeared as a ball of lightning struck the rescue jet. It veered away from the crippled craft and fell from the sky as the only light in the storm. Suddenly a series of explosions in the distance seemed to drown out the other flashes of lights in the storm and the sky went dark. "...There will be an inquiry into the incident as soon as the storm passes and the wreckage of the Titans T-Jet can be found. But for now all the JLA, the Titans, and the rest of the world can do is wait.
"To recap, Nightwing, leader of the group of young superheroes known as The Titans, is missing, presumed dead. After a daring rescue of Brit Airlines flight 407, from London to Metropolis. This is Lois Lane..." Clark turned off the television and the screen went black.
Bruce wasn't sure how long he stared at the blank screen. His mind suddenly went dead. He couldn't think, he couldn't see, he couldn't remember how to breathe. The next thing Bruce recalled was being shaken into reality by Clark, and hearing his name as if it was coming from downstairs instead of the worried man in front of him. Reality struck him hard in the chest as the words he had just been told came tumbling out, "Dick is gone."
Clark could see his face harden with that deep lack of emotion, as if he had just reached behind his head and pulled his cowl on. "I suppose the Titans already know," he growled. Clark just nodded his head.
Then I should contact Barbara and let her know. And of course I...I have to tell Tim," he mumbled as he attempted to stand on rubbery legs.
"They know, Bruce. Young Justice was working with JLA at the time Oracle got the call."
"Then I guess all I have to...I have to find Alfred. He can't find out like this. I don't even know where he is. He was going to visit his brother in England. I..."
"He knows too, Bruce."
Bruce looked up, almost angry at the thought that someone might have dumped such horrid news on the man that raised him.
"Bruce, Alfred was on the plane that Dick saved. He saw the whole thing. He was so devastated they took him to Metropolis Memorial to be checked out. They thought he might have had another heart attack, a minor one. But you know Alfred, he began taking over the hospital about five minutes after he got there."
"I'll get dressed and go get him."
"You can't get there in this weather. It's a wonder they haven't tried to evacuate the manor. Look, he contacted me before I came. He says to tell you he is fine, and will ride out the storm in Metropolis. He told me that he would like for us forget our differences long enough to work together to find Dick, or at least recover his body..." Clark watched as Bruce barely acknowledged he heard him. "When the storm clears, I will bring Alfred home, Bruce. I promise."
"The storm?"
"Hurricane Willow made a turn for land just about the time Dick's plane went down. They expect landfall about 7pm tomorrow, somewhere north of Bludhaven. Tempest is already conducting a search of the sea. I should be able to do one from the air by midnight tonight. I tried earlier but...Look, Bruce, there is no telling where the wreckage has been strewn and the chance of finding his body is well...I'm sorry."
Somehow Bruce knew; saying the chances of recovery were slim to none would be optimistic. Dick must have survived the lightning strike, the explosion and the crash, and then if Dick survives that, the next challenge would be surviving the storm while in the water. If Dick isn't injured so badly he can't survive alone in the ocean...there might be some molecule of hope. He just wasn't sure where to look for it. Dick, after all, was the only link to hope he had left.
"The JLA and Titans are going to meet at Titans Tower in New York. If you would like to come I can take you. It's kind of a candlelight vigil. Most of them will be too busy after the storm hits to participate in the search, but myself, Wally, and a few of the Titans are going to give it a try. You're welcome to come along."
"NO!" Bruce yelled. "This doesn't change things. I'm still the same person you kicked out of the JLA. I'm a loner, remember? I can't be trusted anymore. If Robin and Nightwing choose to continue to work with the JLA, that is strictly up to them, but I didn't need your help before and I don't need it now."
Clark was certain the words hit Bruce as hard as they struck out at him. Then, as if Bruce was suddenly pushed away and the Batman persona regained control, all emotion left his voice. "I'm sorry, Clark. No, thank you. I appreciate your offer, but mourning is something I am well versed in. There is one thing you could do for me to save time...if you could get me a copy of the amateur film they showed, I would appreciate it. I also need the reports from the Titans, especially those on the rescue mission. I will know why and how this accident happened. If I need anything else I will contact you or the Titans. As for Alfred, if he is going to be okay in Metropolis, there will be things I should take care of here. I would appreciate it if you would make sure he is comfortable and safe. Anything he needs, let me know I will take care of it...Anything..."
"Gotcha," Clark returned, trying hard to put on a strong front. He smiled slightly and left the room. It was the last thing Bruce remembered before he found himself dressed as the Dark Knight standing on top of the tallest building in the city like a great dark lightning rod, in the worse storm he had seen in ages. Then, as if to curse the Gods, he shook his fists in the wind and screamed.