CHAPTER 18:

"Blackbird's Song"

Barbara Gordon was never one to dwell in sorrow. Dick had told her many times that feeling sad was only a temporary condition of extreme stress and worry. The world was a good and happy place, filled with joy, and life, in all its essence, should be celebrated on a positive note. That is what she loved most about Richard Grayson, that despite all the evil he'd seen and fought against over his long career as a crime fighter, he always returned to a pleasant state of mind. He always saw the bright side of life.

She tried to remain positive, she really did. But when she saw him in this state: strapped down like some sort of mental patient, it was difficult to stay positive. It made him look like one of those criminals Dick kept putting away. So, despite the consequences, she decided that he would be free, like he always said he felt when he was jumping through the air, as free as a bird in flight.

Taking off the velcro strap that was wrapped around his left wrist, she then held his hand. At least one arm would be free, but it made him look like an injured bird with only one wing working. His hand was warm as she held it, placing it against her cheek.

She said, "Come back to me, Dick. I love you, I always have. Despite all our hardships and disagreements, our times apart and woes, I've never cared for someone more deeply than you. I need you to come back. Fight Crane. Fight his Fear Germ. I know you're strong. You've always been stronger than most, stronger than me. You once told me that I was the only person who made you feel inferior. That's not true, and you know it." She knew Crane's fear germ enhanced a person's own worse fears, Dick's worse fear was losing the people he loved. "Your one big fear is your own self-doubt. So, don't doubt your own inner strength."

An article in Psychology Weekly, a magazine she subscribed to, said that the voices of loved ones could sometimes get through to coma patients. Right now, Dick was one of them, sedated by drugs. She also remembered music could, as well. Certain words or sounds could trigger emotions to stir and possibly wake the patient on their own.

Dick had a list of albums he put together of some of his favourite songs, all categorized into different genres, and he sometimes brought them along to listen to as he patrolled the streets of Gotham on those lonely nights.

Without his phone, which had been lost when he dropped after being shot—luckily it was a somewhat soft landing, if you call bouncing off a car roof a safe landing—she couldn't play any of his favourite songs. But there was one song Dick did like. It was number one on his Soft Listening Album, she recalled.

She took a moment to recall the words, she then began to hum, and then with a soft, low voice, began to sing:

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night;
Takes these broken wings and learn to fly;
All you life;
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night;
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see;
All your life;
You were only waiting for this moment to be free…"

She began to chock up, but kept singing:

"Blackbird fly…
Blackbird fly…
Into the light of the dark black night…"

Dick Grayson moaned, and then smiled. "I always loved that song," he said weakly. He gingerly opened his eyes. She gasped, as he turned his head to her. "I awake, and the first thing with my wandering eyes is a beautiful angel standing at my side…" Dick caressed her cheek with his hand. "I truly am in Heaven."

"Dick! Thank God, you're awake!" She immediately kissed him and he didn't resist. "But how?" she asked, after pulling back.

He told her what he had experienced, and dreamt, and also, if he was right, that he had a cure for Scarecrow's Fear Germ. He also inferred to whom he thought was responsible for shooting him, one of whom was Slade Wilson—Deathstroke.

She unstrapped him from the bed. "Tim and I came to the same conclusion. Slade—that bastard!"

Dick agreed. Slade Wilson was a bastard in every sense of the word. "He'd take any job if it paid enough," he said. "I was once his student, he taught me how to tap into my emotions to embattle my fighting ability, to reach deep down and to exploit my enemy's weaknesses to the fullest. That's why, these days, I have to hold back, or I'll really hurt someone."

"Do you think Jake Handles is the one who paid him?"

"It's highly probable," Dick said, sitting up. "With everything that transpired between him and I during my time at Spyral, the guy is out for revenge, and he has the connections and the knowhow to do it. Handles was a lunatic even before he turned rogue, everyone called him The Reaper for a reason, so hiring a few hitmen, and setting up an elaborate plot to destroy me would be no problem for him, and it would be a means to an end to get back at me for what I did to him."

Dick felt his energy returning. His body was quickly fighting off the Fear Germ—with positive emotion. It was amazing just how the power of positivity could be an effective antidote to such a powerful negative afflicting drug. The Fear Germ targeted depressive emotions and reached deep into the mindset of a person, drawing on the darkest emotions imaginable. It literally paralyzed a person into thinking all was hopeless and the only escape was to end it all. Dick knew that all too well, once feeling the same way. Being positive was one thing, but he knew he would still need some additional drugs or antibiotics to battle the remainder germ.

But he had beat it.

It was just like Crane to invent something so dastardly. But not everyone was a strong as Dick, so other medicine would be needed to fend off those infected. After he told the doctor what they needed, he'd leave the medical side to the professionals for the correct dose. Crane's reign of terror with the Fear Germ was over.

"What's Damian been up to? The last thing I remember is he found things specific to my time with Spyral that Handles had planted." Barbara had been holding his hand, but the moment he mentioned Damian, he felt her give it a little squeeze, as if the mere mention of Damian caused undue stress. He took her hand and held it. "Barb, what is it? Is Damian in trouble?"

"We think so," she said. "Jason and Jon Kent are headed to Treasure Island. Tim detected activity, and since no one can contact Damian at the moment, we suspect Jake Handles may have kidnapped him, since Handles can't get to you. A transference of revenge, as they say."

"Damian needs my help! We both know what Handles has planned. He started it before I took him down, that was one of the reason Spyral went after him. With him in charge of Treasure Island, Operation Coral Castle may just become a reality…"

Dick began to move, to get up. But Barbara pushed him back down, quite forcefully. He huffed out a breath. "No Dick, you need to recover," she insisted. "Jason and Jon are on the case, they can handle things. As for Handles' operation, we'll deal with it if it comes to pass. Right now, you need your rest. Let our friends take him on. I'll let the know about Handles' plans."

A soft knock came at the door and then the doctor came in, carrying a computer pad. His brow rose when he saw Dick awake.

"Mr. Grayson…I'm surprised but pleased you're conscious, especially after what we went through," he said. He looked to Barbara as if to ask how. "I'm actually a little baffled, the drug was quite vicious. But I have good news. We managed to analyze the drug and we've learned it has a weakness to a certain Phosphorus, not commonly found in human cells." The doctor explained further. It was like the universe had given the doctor the cure directly from Dick's dream.

Dick nodded, he didn't know the exact name of he medical drug the doctor mentioned when the doctor explained it, but he knew Phosphorus had something to do with it. And the doctor explained it almost exactly how the medical journal he had read had phrased it. The "gold particle" phosphorus in combination with other drugs would attack and destroy the infectious germ and disseminate the extreme depression in those affected. Although, in some cases, therapy would also be needed for some.

"That's great news, Doctor!" Dick said.

"We're still conducting experiments, but the man who infected you is improving. We tried it on him first. You seem to have beaten it on your own. You are quite an extraordinary man, Mr. Grayson."
"He is indeed, Doctor," Barbara said smiling, holding his hand.

"Further news. You'll be pleased to know the police have also managed to arrest the man who was impersonating a police officer here at the hospital, and he has admitted to giving his associate, the man you encountered in the cafe, what he refers to as a 'fear germ', whom he obtained from another. But he refuses to name this individual."

Both Dick and Barbara gave each other a glance both knowing who the unnamed individual was.

"However, there is still the issue of your head injuries, and who performed the original surgery. We're still looking into that."

Barbara then told the doctor that the police had found the man who had performed the original surgery and that he was in custody, that she got word from the GCPD—but stopped short of saying he was found dead, according to Tim.

"That's good—"

"Please, I must see my grandson!" came a gruff sounding voice from out in the hall way, behind a partially closed door.

Dick, Barbara, and the doctor, all looked towards the door.

"Sorry sir, but you're not on the authorized list of visitors," the security officer said who was guarding Dick's hospital room, the door was three-quarters shut. "And's very late, visiting hours are well past over."

Once again, both Dick and Barbara gave each other a look. Dick knew that it was definitely not his grandfather, unless he had come back from the dead and re-assumed his role as Talon in the Court of the Owls?
The voice, even without the muffled mask, was undeniable.

But the audacity that he, of all people, would come here was beyond scope.

The doctor wanted to see what all the commotion was about, but then Dick quickly said, "Doctor, let him in," he said low enough so it was not heard from beyond the door. "But don't tell—my grandfather—that I've woken. I want it to be a surprise."

"Yes," Barbara played along. "Dick's grandfather lives out of state, and I was finally able to get in contact with him," she fibbed. "He said he would be coming. I'm sorry, I forgot to inform you, doctor. He's Dick's…god-grandfather." Dick nodded in agreement.

The doctor looked confused, but agreed. He then went to leave and headed to the door. Dick returned to a laying/sleeping position and Barbara loosely put the velcro straps back on to make it appear he was still secured to the bed. They heard the doctor converse with Dick's "god-grandfather" out in the hall, and was informed that he was to be added to the list, and that he was expected. And despite the very late hour, the doctor told the security guard that the man was to be allowed to see the patient, if only briefly.

When the door opened, Slade Wilson entered Dick Grayson's hospital room. He wore casual attire with a dark long coat. He had white hair and a gottee and his left eye was covered with an eye patch. He closed the door until it was almost shut and then separated his hands as if to indicate he had come unarmed. Barbara's face swelled with disdain.

The history between Slade and Dick was notoriously well known within the Batfamily. Slade Wilson, also known as Deathstroke, was a hired mercenary, who had tried to murder Dick on several occasions, despite also being his teacher when it was needed. Slade had agreed to teach Dick new fighting abilities to get stronger against another enemy.

And every time they met, Dick outsmarted him.

The most notable instance of their rivalry concerned Slade's daughter Rose, when Nightwing was training her. Slade threatened to murder Nightwing, but he couldn't do it in front of his daughter out of respect, so a deal was struck. If Nightwing stayed away from Rose, the two would part ways peacefully. As long as Slade kept his army of meta-villains out of Bludhaven, it was a deal. But that only lasted for a day and half when Slade with others attacked Bludhaven, murdering close to 100,000 people.

Slade looked like a lovable old gentleman without his mercenary attire, but to those who knew him, he was a cold-blooded killer. "My dear, Barbara, there's no need for that look," Slade said. "The moment I heard, I had see for myself. I come in peace, I Promise."

"You have some nerve, Slade," she kept her voice low, so the security guard wouldn't hear. She didn't want any problems. Slade wouldn't hesitate to kill the man and others if he was cornered.

Slade ventured to Dick's bedside ignoring her. Slade looked at him, Dick's eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. "That girl at the bar told me Richard had been subjected to Scarecrow's new Fear Germ, you may known her as Pixie. She's been working for me as an information broker for the past year." Slade leaned in closer. "Out of all the foolish things. Just because you're in a hospital, my boy, doesn't mean you're safe—that first assassin should've been proof enough. He was one of Jake Handles men."

Dick snapped his head around, yanked one hand from a loose strap, and then grabbed Slade by his shirt collar, pulling him down to the bed, face-to-face. "Yeah, and you should heed your own advise!" he said through clenched teeth. Slade struggled against Dick's tight vice grip, but to no avail. Slade then relented to Dick's machinations. "You shot me, you son-of-a-bitch! I thought I was dead."

"It was a calculated shot, one in a million, and I'm was proud of it," he said arrogantly. "But I wasn't the only one that day…"

"I know there were two shooters. Who was the other one? EB?"

"If you already know, why ask? But he's already fled. You won't find him. I've already tried. Jake Handles paid us both, but not as pair. We were both separate assurances if the other didn't hit the mark. I was never told. You know I work alone. We—I—was paid to hit you in the head with a blood capsule with a device inside to render you unconscious. After that, you'd be rushed to a hospital for brain surgery. The rest was up to others. I was only paid for my part in the plan."

"We figured as much, Tim actually thought of the same thing," Dick said.

Slade nodded, and said he as a smart kid.

Barbara went around and unstrapped the other velcro, freeing Dick completely.

"Tell me the whole plan, Slade." Dick gripped Slade's shirt tighter, twisting the collar. Slade gasped for breath, but he didn't try to resist. By the way he was reacting, Slade almost felt guilty for shooing his old student. Dick then released him, and literally pushed him away. Slade rubbed his throat. "Don't bother, I think I have the general idea. And I was in the crosshairs."

"It was an elaborate plan to destroy you, Richard, but I knew you were strong," Slade said. "I taught you well. Incidentally, I was also paid to kill the doctor who performed surgery on you, so all ties would be cut to Jake Handles. They say a person's memories are the precious thing a person has, so Handles thought if he could make you forget everything that you were, all the people you cared about, then that would be his ultimate revenge for taking everything away from him—namely Spyral and the like."

"But he did that himself when he betrayed his comrades," Barbara added.

"True, but we all know how maniacs think. All they need is a single trigger, just one, to set them off. Sometimes that's all it takes for this to escalate a OCD complex. Obviously Handles—who is calling himself Annex now—needed someone to direct his anger towards, and he chose you, Richard, because of your time in Spyral together. Although, I'm not familiar with everything that transpired. Someday, you must enlighten me with tails of intrigue and adventure as Agent 37." Slade smirked, then breathed out, his eyes narrow. "As for Jonathan Crane, his motives are less than clear when he used that man to attack you here in the hospital with the Fear Germ. Perhaps he just saw an opportunity to eliminate a long standing enemy? He knows who you are, Richard, much like Dr. Hugo Strange once did, but Strange forgot after being hit in the head. Drake went to see him an hour ago."

Barbered hushed him. "Are you spying on us?"

"Simply, yes," Slade admitted.

Dick sighed. "Okay, enough, Slade. The deed is done. Barbara, contact Tim and ask him why he went to see Strange?" Slade beat her to the punch, saying that he went to ask Strange about a cure for the Fear Germ because of its unique psychotropic properties. "Call Tim anyway," Dick said, annoyed at Slade for overstepping and following Tim. "He knows not to go to Arkham alone, I'll talk to him later about it. The kid can be overzealous and little too eager to help. That could get him killed on day."

"You know that better than anyone," said Slade condescendingly.

"Shut it, Slade!"

Slade knew that Dick angry and understandably so.

Slade sighed irritated under his breath, but didn't retort. And the look Barbara Gordon was giving him chilled his blood. He was a cold-blooded killer, but some things even unnerved him. Like the look of a very angry woman.

With serious eyes, Dick said: "Slade, I want you to do a favour for me, and don't you dare refuse. You owe me, for shooting me."

"I don't like that tone, Richard. I'm not one to respond to idol threats. What if I refuse, you'll have me arrested?" Dick gave him a hate filled glare. Slade cleared his throat. "But because we have history, I'll do this one favour for you. Before you tell me, however, let me take a wild stab in the dark. You want me to find Crane and get a raw sample of the cure?"

"The man's a freakin' mindreader, Barb," Dick said with a quirky grin.

"Yeah, a regular mentalist," she said sarcastically with an equal quirky smile.

Slade eyed them both with distain and contempt, but he couldn't blame them for that.

He went to leave, but stopped just at the door, and within earshot of the security guard outside, turned to around, and said: "I'm glad you're okay, grandson. Now, I know you and your sweetheart are madly in love, but it's late and you've just been through a heralding ordeal. So, it's time to cool it with the lovey-dovey stuff, and get some rest. You can make babies later."

Barbara's mouth dropped and Dick's eyes budged with shock, because it was completely out of character for Slade. That was more like something Dick would say to get the last word.

Dick threw a pillow at Slade as he left the room. But he couldn't help but smirk.

He then turned to Barbara, and said, "You look exhausted. When was the last time you got any rest?"

"You were my main concern. But I'm more curious how you beat Crane's Fear Germ that was inside you without medication?"

"They say fear is all in the mind, and a bully only has power if you allow him to keep it by not fighting back. So, I fought back. And in the process remembered what I forgot what I told you. I don't plan on forgetting what's most precious to me again. And I've decided on something" —he grasped her hand and took it between both hands— "I never ever want to lose you, Barbara. I thought I had when I suffered amnesia and I'm so happy things turned out for the best. Best is best, as long as have you."

"Oh, Dick…"

And they kissed.

To be continued...