Donna Troy fell asleep to the sound of rain falling against her bedroom windows. The previous few weeks had been very trying on her resolve, having assumed co-leadership of the Titans with Jesse Quick when Nightwing took an extended leave of absence for personal reasons. The Titans were very busy during that time, reminding Donna how difficult leading the team could be, even with help. It was the kind of work that left one proud and satisfied, but she had to admit that she was counting the days until Dick's return to the team.
He'd left under a cloud of mystery. Seeming exhausted and distraught, he'd told her of his decision privately, counting on her to tell the others. She learned a few days later, while trying to get in touch with him for some old records, that he had also taken leave of the Bludhaven Police Department. When she finally caught up with him, having had to go to Bludhaven to do so, he said he was working a case that required the bulk of his time. He offered no further information, and she chose not to push for more. That was the last time she'd seen him. It had been over a month.
There were more than a few times during that period that her concern compelled her to try to contact him, failing with each attempt. Donna even reached out to Robin and Oracle, who both expressed similar concerns and also hadn't seen or heard from him in quite a while. She called a Titans meeting to discuss the situation, and they decided to give him another week to respond to their messages and e-mails before launching a search that might interfere with his work.
This fitful night of sleep would be her first long rest in weeks, but it wasn't meant to be. She sat bolt upright in bed, jarred from her slumber by a loud noise from her balcony. Donna pulled on her robe and turned on the lights, stepping outside the balcony door to investigate. There, huddled into a ball, legs hugged to his chest, was Nightwing, her oldest and closest friend.
He was shivering, dressed in his uniform except for the mask, staring off into the evening sky. Looking closely at his face, she couldn't make out any sign of emotion or injury. His expression was passive and empty. Were it not for the shaking brought on by the weather, he would appear nearly catatonic.
Donna moved quickly to his side and knelt beside him, taking his hand in hers. "Dick? Dick, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
He turned to look at her, as if just realizing that she was there, and she saw his eyes struggle to focus. "D-Donna? I-I drove him to it, Donna…I killed him. I was right there, a-and I killed him."
She pulled him into her chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Let's get you inside, honey. Okay?" He didn't answer, but raised no protest when she helped him up and ushered him into her bedroom. Donna sat him on the chair beside her bed, left for the bathroom, and returned carrying two towels.
She was terrified for him when she returned to his side. He was staring off into nothingness again. Seeing him for the first time in the light, she was a bit taken aback by his appearance. He was clean shaven and responsive, but she guessed that he lost about twenty pounds since she'd seen him last, which is a dangerous amount for someone of his build, with virtually no fat to burn. His cheeks were drawn and his face appeared gaunt and pale.
Donna began to dry him off, pressing a towel repeatedly against his hair, face, and neck. She removed his gauntlets expecting to see the telltale scars of battle on his hands and knuckles, but found none. She inserted fingers of both hands into the neckline of his costume and tore it effortlessly to his waist, then removed it like a jacket. She wrapped a large, dry towel around him and then sat across from him on her bed.
"Dick? Talk to me. Tell me what happened."
He looked at her in surprise again. "My fault, Donna. I k-killed him."
Donna met his eyes with a pained look of compassion, tears now getting the best of her. "Killed who, Dick? Please tell me what's wrong. You're scaring me."
He started to answer her, but seemed at a loss for words, and he hunched over, appearing to give into his despair.
"Should I call Bruce? Barbara? Tell me how I can help, Dick."
Dick tried to raise his head to look at her, but couldn't. "N-no. No! Can't face them…can't…never again," he said.
Donna realized that he was very much in shock. Whatever happened to him had pushed him over an emotional precipice, and he was obviously finding it impossible to cope. She quickly moved again to the bathroom, returning seconds later with something wrapped in a washcloth. She set the cloth on her nightstand and knelt in front of him, pulling him into an embrace.
Dick leaned into her, seeming in search of physical support than comfort. His skin was cold to the touch, and Donna began to wonder just how long he'd been outside. Within a couple of long minutes, Dick gave in to his exhaustion (or was it despair?) and started to relax. His breathing slowed and the shivering began to subside. Donna helped him to her bed, then removed the remainder of his uniform. She took a syringe from the washcloth and gave Dick a sedative to make sure he slept through the night. He sat up when she removed the needle from his arm, realizing what she had done.
"No…can't." He looked around wildly, his eyes finally resting on the notepad resting by the lamp at her bedside. He picked it up slowly, the sedative starting to take affect. Removing the pen from its holder, he struggled to write something down before slumping back against the pillows, unconscious.
Donna made no effort to interfere, desperately hoping that he'd write something that would help her determine the cause of his pain. She climbed into the bed beside him and removed the notepad from his hand. His note read, "Hadley. 66524."
She lay there beside him for a while, her fragile heart broken from bearing witness to his devastation. Rising and wiping tears from her eyes, she moved to her kitchen and picked up the phone.
"Garth? It's Donna. Listen, Dick's in trouble and I really need your help."
The Atlantean's voice teemed with concern. "Is he all right?"
This is why she called Garth first. Garth would listen to what she was telling him and respond in kind, with his usual sense of compassion and tact. The others, Wally and Roy especially, would react rashly, eager for explanation, action, and retribution, and she could offer them none. "He seems okay, but he's really distraught. It has something to do with the case he's working on. I'm really worried for him."
"Do you want me to come over, so you're not alone while he sleeps?"
"No, but thanks, Garth. I need you to get in touch with Roy, Wally, and Vic, but not on the Titans' priority channel," Donna explained.
"I understand. We'll keep it in the family, as it were. Consider it done, Donna. Roy is here at the Tower and I have Wally's number. I think he can get in touch with Vic. I assume we'll meet at your apartment. What time?"
"Around eight if they can. Thanks so much, Garth. I feel better just hearing your voice. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
"Count on it," he said, pausing. "Donna, are YOU okay?"
Donna smiled. Though he'd never spent much time with any of the Titans groups due to circumstance, Garth formed deep, lasting bonds with his friends. Aside from Dick, she wasn't sure there was anyone that understood her better. "I am now, Garth. Thanks for asking."
"Okay. See you in the morning," he replied as he hung up.
Donna woke at Dick's bedside to a knock at her door. Getting up, she placed the back of her hand against Dick's forehead, relieved that his fever had broken. She then moved silently to answer her apartment door. There stood Garth, Wally, Roy, and Vic, known to the world at large as Tempest, Flash, Arsenal, and Cyborg, all current and former Titans.
Garth stepped in to give Donna a brief hug as the men entered her apartment. "How is he?"
"He's resting now, guys. I think he'll be okay, but whatever happened to him last night…whatever it is he's been working on these past weeks…has really hit him hard."
Wally ran his hand through his hair, his characteristic impatience getting the best of him. "Maybe you'd better bring us up to speed, Donna. If Dick's in trouble over a case, we need to get moving while the trail's hot."
Donna agreed, motioning to her friends to take a seat. She recounted what she knew about the situation, starting with Dick's leave from the Titans, her repeated attempts to contact him, and finally with his appearance the night before, his condition, and the shocking things he'd said. She also showed them the note he'd written before falling asleep…"Hadley. 66524."
They passed the note around. "The name doesn't ring any bells, but this is prolly one'a Dick's case numbers, Wondy," Vic said.
Roy nodded. "That sounds right. So I guess we should head over to his place, see what we can dig up, huh?"
"I'm all for that plan. Let's get moving," Wally said, already heading toward the door.
"I think it would be best if I stayed here with Donna and Dick," Garth said. "We don't want my appearance to arouse any suspicion from Dick's acquaintances in Bludhaven."
"And be discreet, boys. Especially you, Wally. Dick Grayson isn't supposed to know The Flash," Donna added with a wink.
"Hey, what about me? I'm famous, too," Roy argued.
Vic laughed. "Stuff it, Archer. Let's go, you're driving."
"Oh, sure. I'm the chauffeur for the famous guys now, right? Wally's driving, and I'm riding in the back…"
Donna smiled as the guys made their way out the door and down the hall, then turned her attention back to Garth.
"Can I see him," he asked, a look of hopeful concern on his face.
"Sure, he might even be awake by now. The sedative I gave him should have worn off."
Garth made his way into the room to find Dick awake, sitting up in bed, staring out the window. "Good morning, Dick."
Dick offered no response.
"Donna says you're looking better than last night. I hope you don't mind her calling us here…"
Dick looked over at him. "Us?"
"Me, Wally, Roy, Vic…"
Dick shrugged slightly. "I appreciate the thought, but I don't see that there's anything you guys can do. What's done is done."
"Will you tell us exactly what has been done?"
Dick was silent for a long moment. "Have you ever done something so wrong, ruined something so important, that you knew you'd lost your family forever? What I did…what I didn't do…I can't take those things back."
Garth eyed him sadly. "Whatever has happened to make you feel that way, please know that there's nothing you could have done to lose our friendship. You are my brother, and WE are your family. That will not change."
"Thanks, Garth. I guess that's why I'm here," Dick replied, failing to force a smile.
"I'll leave you to rest. Just remember that, as you say, what's done is done. All one can do is their best to set it right. Donna and I are here if you need anything," Garth stated as he made his way out of the room.
Dick waited for him to leave, then slowly got out of bed. His entire body was sore, most certainly due to his lack of nourishment and severe emotional state the night before. He pulled on his uniform, noting with some remorse that Donna had all but destroyed a good portion of it. He moved out onto Donna's balcony and dove off, waiting as long as he could to launch his grapnel to avoid alerting Donna and Garth.
"All one can do is their best to set it right. Damn right, Garth," Nightwing said to himself as he moved across the rooftops of Manhattan. "Damn right…"
Vic Stone, Wally West, and Roy Harper stood on the fire escape outside Dick's apartment, trying their best to go unnoticed.
"The window's locked," Wally said, frustrated.
Vic shrugged. "Open it, Harper."
Roy looked at them with an exasperated expression on his face. "How the hell am I supposed to open it?"
"What, you mean to tell me you don't have tools for this kinda thing," Wally asked.
"Do I have a bat on my chest? Why don't you just vibrate through it and unlock it from the inside?"
"Because it'll explode, moron. You guys without powers are supposed to have lockpicks and stuff tucked away in your uniform somewhere," Wally replied.
Roy sighed, his anger getting the best of him. "Do you see a uniform on me? We're incognito, remember?" He started emptying his pockets. "I've got a comb, 47 cents in change, some lint, and a couple condoms. Unless you're MacGyver, I don't think this stuff'll be useful."
Vic watched his friends amusedly. Oh, how he missed hanging out with the Titans. "Actually, that stuff'll work, Harper. Take it from a guy who grew up in Hell's Kitchen. Close the change in your left fist, and put the rest'a that crap away."
Roy looked at Vic curiously, but complied, dumping the change into his left hand and closing it into a fist. "Okay, now what?"
Vic grabbed Roy by the wrist and shoved his fist through the windowpane, shattering it. "Now put the change in that cup on Dick's desk…we'll start a collection for a new window."
Wally stifled his laughter as Roy looked at Vic with astonished ire. "Jesus, Vic! What if someone heard that? And you could'a cut me!"
Vic slapped him on the back as he reached inside, unlocked the window, and hoisted it open. "Relax, bowboy. Nobody's gonna come running in this neighborhood, and you're not a lefty, so no harm done. C'mon," he said as he climbed through the window.
Wally and Roy followed, although Roy did so with a show of annoyance. Wally crossed the room and opened the bookshelf/door that separates Dick's apartment from that of the fictitious Dr. Fledermaus. "His computer's in here, Vic," he said, motioning the larger man through.
Vic took a seat at the computer terminal and waited for it to boot, with Wally and Roy standing behind him.
"Man, are you gonna do that oozing thing where you plug your fingers into the computer," Roy asked.
"Why, does it freak you out?"
Roy nodded. "Well yeah. Peoples' fingers aren't supposed to turn gold and plug into computers."
"This from the guy who had a kid with a woman that keeps her fingernails laced with lethal poison," Wally said.
"Hey, it's kinkier that way. Adds a sense of danger," Roy replied with a wink.
Vic cleared his throat. "ANYWAY…No, Harper. I'm not gonna ooze."
Wally was perplexed. "C'mon, we need this info, Vic. Roy can go in the next room and shoot at rats if it bothers him so much."
"Yeah, don't mind me. How else're we gonna get what we need?"
Vic shrugged. "Figgered I'd use the keyboard, maybe click the mouse a few times." Vic started his search as Wally chuckled affably. Within moments, Vic was hacking his way into Nightwing's case files, finally displaying the long list of numbered directories.
"Is there a 66524? That's what Dick wrote down," Wally said.
"Yup," Vic answered and he opened the 66524 directory. Inside were about 50 files, one labeled main.doc and the rest numbered sequentially. He opened main.doc and began summarizing the contents for his friends. "Okay, we've got a Simon Hadley as the case target. That matches the 'Hadley' name on Dick's note. Says here he's a mob hitter that Dick caught on to after he popped a guy named Westcott. The file refers to a notebook found in a police raid that this Hadley idiot kept a hit list in. 48 names. That must be what these other files are."
Roy laughed. "What a moron! I know if I was a killer, I'd walk around with a list of all the people I killed…"
"Yeah, pretty stupid. But maybe he's just that good, Roy. Not afraid of getting caught," Wally added.
Vic was perusing the other files while they talked. "Yup, these files are each researched hits from the past. They go pretty far back. Doesn't make sense."
"Whaddaya mean? Dick's a detective; it's kinda what he does," Roy said.
"Yeah, but why bother? He's got enough on the Westcott hit to put the guy away, and the cops're bound to follow up on at least a few of these others. Shouldn't be too hard to put a case together without Dick spending all this time on it," Vic answered.
"The cops around here are crooked, though. He probably has to be pretty thorough just to get a conviction around here," Wally added.
Roy shook his head. "Still, I don't see Dick taking weeks off from the Titans and the PD to go this far with a mob goon. If he…"
Vic interrupted, "Hang on. This last file is ten times the size of the others, and it's locked. Gimme a minute." His fingers flew across the keyboard as Roy and Wally looked on. Moments later, "Got it. It's not a file; it's a ghost directory. Look at all the stuff in here," Vic exclaimed, pointing to multiple text, audio, video, and graphics files. He double-clicked to open the largest text file, and an eerie silence descended upon the room as they read:
Date: October 8, 1973
Location: Crime Alley, Gotham City
Time: 10:07pm
Victim(s): Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…
"N-no way," Roy whispered, choking on his words.
"Man, what the hell did Robbie stumble onto here," Vic asked, astonished.
Wally leaned in and grabbed the mouse, quickly reading the entire document, then did the same with each additional text file in the ghost directory. "Guys, he's got it. ALL of it. He can put Hadley at the scene, has a breakdown of events, timetables, even a confession from the guy Hadley fenced the stuff to. And look here," he said, pointing to a particular passage in one of the files. "Through working the other early murders, he found out that Hadley buried a lot of the evidence he couldn't sell in a flower bed outside the apartment building he lived in back then. Dick found Thomas Wayne's wallet, complete with ID."
"Guys, what're we supposed to do with this? I mean, we came here with good intentions and all, but I'm not sure Dick would want us reading this," Roy stated.
"I'm with you on that, archer. But we still don't know what's got Dick so rattled. This is shock enough, but Donna said that Dick was afraid he'd killed someone. We all know what that prolly means, but we can't stop until we know for sure."
Wally nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Look, this is Donna's play. We shouldn't make any decisions on what to do until we bring her in on it. You guys should head back to her place. I'm gonna dig around here and see if I can't find that notebook and whatever else Dick may have on the guy, then head over to the PD and find out exactly what happened last night."
"Sounds like a plan, fleetfeet. Let us know if ya need anything," Vic replied as his hand came alive and reached out to Dick's PC, merging his mind with its contents. "I'll take all this info with us, just in case."
He and Roy left through the window, leaving The Flash to his task.
Donna stared blankly at the collected information and evidence in front of her. Wally returned not long after Roy and Vic, bringing with him Hadley's notebook and Thomas Wayne's wallet, both found hidden in Dick's apartment, as well as a police report stemming from an incident in Bludhaven the night before.
Garth's reaction was similar, though not as silent. "This Simon Hadley…he's dead?"
"Yeah, found in an alley, a pretty severe karate-style beating. The coroner's report isn't in yet, but the picture I saw made it pretty clear. Hadley's neck was broken," Wally responded.
Donna found her voice, "We're not supposed to believe that Dick did this, are we? Even knowing what this man had done, I don't think Dick would kill him. Look at all this work he did. Why bother?"
"I dunno, Wondy. Doesn't sound like Dick t'me either. But you could argue that this is Batboy's justification," Vic said, holding up some of the papers they'd printed from Dick's files. "It's a case against Hadley, but it makes for a good murder defense for the guy that scragged him, too."
Roy shook his head pointedly as he rose from the couch. "No way, Vic. That makes it even worse…premeditated. Not Dick. There's no way Dick would do that!"
"Take it easy, Harper. I'm not sayin' that's what I believe. I'm just pointing out the obvious, tossing it out there, y'know? It's what Dick would be doing if it was one'a us."
"This accomplishes nothing," Garth stated. "What Dick did or did not do is immaterial at the moment. His whereabouts and current state of mind should be our primary concerns. Once we've found him, we can worry about what to do to help him."
"Yeah, Garth, but where do we go from here? None of us is dumb enough to think we'll find him if he doesn't want to be found," Wally said.
"I've been thinking the same thing, Wally," Donna replied sadly. "I don't think we have any choice but to get others involved; people who'd have a better chance of reaching him and talking to him about this…"
Roy groaned, putting his face in his hands. "Aw, man. There's gotta be something else we can do. I don't like talking to Batman at all, but the thought of telling him THIS? You know how mad Garth gets when we eat tuna fish sandwiches in front of him? It's like that, only it's Batman, and the sandwiches are his parents."
"You've got a real gift for analogies, Harper," Vic said, eyes rolling.
"Sue me."
"Roy's got a point, though. 'Hiya, Bruce. Dick found the guy that murdered your parents, and he told Donna he killed him.' I don't think that's gonna go over well," Wally added.
"I know, but what else can we do? Dick told Garth that he'd lost his family forever because of what he's done. We have to get them involved, if only to prove to Dick that he hasn't lost them," Donna stated.
Wally looked at her with a pained expression. "It won't be easy, Donna. Bruce has been more distant and standoffish since the Gotham lockout, if you can imagine that. I don't know that he'll even listen to us."
"Then we'll have to get someone that he WILL listen to…"