CHAPTER 67:

"All Good Things Must Come To An End"

A grapple gun fired into the air and a tether line with a hook wrapped around a radio tower on the roof of a high-rise building. Once locked in place, Nightwing leapt off the roof of a shorter building, and swung through the air.

He then ran across the face of the high-rise holding onto the line, jumped off free hand, soared like an eagle, grabbed onto a flag pole that stuck out from the side of a building, twirled around it like a gymnast handlebars, flipped high into the air, twisted around, arms wrapped around his chest, and then landed on the roof of another building near-by, planting his feet firmly together, hands in the air, like he had just completed an acrobatic performance for a circus.

He had always said: "Life is a circus", due to life's never ending performance. One day, things could go perfectly, other days, not so well. But when he was a member of the Flying Grayson's, he felt absolutely free while doing the trapeze. Just like now.

And it felt good.

For the past couple of weeks, the media headlights read: "NIGHTWING RETURNS!" and/or "BLUDHAVEN'S SAVIOUR RISES AGAIN!", and other assorted headlines. Stories were done on his return both on television and social media. Both Gotham City and Bludhaven were celebrating his return, but the criminals in both cities were not after a long unexplained absence.

One of the first things he did when he returned to his old stomping grounds in Bludhaven was help Jason eliminate a crime drug syndicate that was plaguing the city. Jason was Red Hood, but he had also begun to branch out into other areas of crime fighting, like associative detective work. He even tried out a new costume, something he wore when he was a crime boss for a time: a red breather mask over his face and black eye mask with a red slipover hood, and other assorted gear. But it didn't fly.

Dick was surprised that Jason had a knack for detective work. But, he also engaged in deep undercover vigilantism as Red Hood, when things got really harry, and when normal police investigations couldn't get the job done. And Roy helped him out a little.

After depositing Riddler, Enigma, and Dafoe with the authorities, and explaining how they were missed during the police's first scoop of villains at Wayne Manor—lying, of course—life, in other ways, returned, somewhat, to normal.

The press was hounding the Manor, the phone was ringing for interviews, and journalists were randomly buzzing around the family at every turn, hoping for a few words on everything under the sun with the hostage situation, and Dick and Barbara's engagement.

So, it was decided, it was time to take a break from it all, and Dick and Barbara took a vacation to a place in the Mediterranean, with its urban serenity and oceanic atmosphere. And it was where, on a whim, they decided to get married in an intimate ceremony in a small chapel. No crowds, no questions. They both agreed that it was their time and they would be in control of their own future.

However, when they returned a week later, and told everyone, showing off the wedding bans they purchased, Damian was the most upset, because he wanted to be ring bearer. Jason said he had called dips first, but that was when he was still a kid.

Alfred suggested they hold another ceremony at the Manor where they could recount their vows in open forum, with only the immediate family and few close friends in attendance, nothing large or too fancy, and no press.

But Dick and Barbara said no. They didn't want a ceremony, nor go through a "show-wedding" when they were already husband and wife. It was not necessary. They wanted to keep everything in reserve.

They disappointed some people, but that's how the conversion ended.

Now, living in Bludhaven, and in the large condo Damian gave them as a pre-wedding gift, despite Bruce paying for it, their happiness was blessed. Dick was now married to his sweetheart and the world was a bright and happy place.

He knew in some other universe, he was probably married to Barbara, too. But this was the universe that counted to him most.

Before he began to patrol once again, Barbara made the joke of him wearing protective headwear just in case someone else tried to shoot at him, and presented Dick with a kids bicycle helmet decorated with the Nightwing symbol.

He rolled his eyes, but did try it on to be sport about it.

"See, it has straps, and chin sling," she said with a smile.

"You really went all out on this joke."

"Seriously, though, be careful out there."

"I will, sweetheart…"

He kissed Barbara, and then went out on patrol, venturing out across the cityscape of Bludhaven.

Dick had gotten word that Dafoe, despite him remembering little, was sent to a juvenile detention centre for troubled youth in Gotham. Dick was told that the kid, Jason's clone, remembered who his father was, but didn't recall anyone's secret identities.

However, he did know who Nightwing Junior was—as a hero, not as Damian Wayne—and swore revenge upon him, believing he was responsible for the death of his father, Jake Handles, in a fiery accident. The image had been hazy, his therapist later explained, but Dafoe Handles vividly remembered Nightwing Junior was predominantly involved.

Apparently, little did anyone know, Dafoe was semi-awake for the time after Damian had clocked him, and saw his father die in an eruption of flame. Since Nightwing Junior was standing close-by. He now considered Nightwing Junior his swore enemy.

When Jason first found out what Jake had done—cloned him—he was furious, and Dick knew he would be. But then Jason decided there was nothing he could do about it. Dick teased him, that Dafoe, since Arkells had told him what Duela had done to him and Roy, that the kid was both their illegitimate love child.

Jason threatened to beat the crap out of Arkells for letting it slip, but Bruce immediately put a stop to the feud. Arkells decided to remain with the family after speaking with Dick, and he convinced Arkells was part of the family. He was Drake's future self, but he was also his own person now, and both he and Drake were two separate entities. Tim agreed.

And it was also brought to light some of Tim's darkest feelings and his own struggle with depression. The factors varied, and Tim agreed, with Steph, he would no longer hide anything from anyone. He would express his feelings openly.

Nightwing leapt from the edge of the building across an alley-way and then another, braving pitfalls and the like, and then shot another grapple hook into the air, where it latched onto the roof of an office skyscraper building with its glass windows. He walked up it, like he and Bruce used to. He even waved at a worker as he did, a young lady, who waved a hand to her face as if to ward off a sudden burst of heat. She then put a hand to her head making the universal sign of "Call Me".

She was flirting with him. That often happened, and he was once called one of the sexiest superheroes in an online poll, and the one with the cutest butt.

But he was no longer on the market.

He walked up the building and got to its flat roof. His boots crushed over gravel as he walked to the edge. Raising his leg to settle on an uptake, he looked west. He took in a deep breath and gazed at the beautiful city landscape. It was a sedative of sorts. It was a little chilly, it was still winter, he could see his breath as he exhaled, but his thermo underwear kept him warm.

Now this is freedom! I can't imagine not doing anything but this!

The sun began to set, the horizon gave off a majestic, pinkish glow.

He mentally thanked everyone who had watched over him. Be they spiritual, godly, or something else. It had taken weeks, but his spell of amnesia had been broken, thanks, most in part, to Damian's stubbornness to get him back.

But if it hadn't been for one small change in the timeline, Bane's plan in using KGBeast to assassin him would have come to fruition.

However it happened, The Flash—Wally West—going back in time to save that little girl from Mirror Master's terror in Central City, saved his life as well. All it took was one small thing to set things onto a different path, an alternative reality, per se.

Although, he did feel regret for the other Dick Grayson who had been shot in the head for real. Whatever happened, he hoped he lived a happy life, and did whatever he could to justify his new existence. He hoped that that Dick Grayson got the comfort from his family, the therapy, and the physical recovery that he needed to get back on his feet.

Maybe someday, that other Dick Grayson would recall his previous life, and return to it? Or maybe even take a dip in a Lazarus Pit?

It worked for both Jason and Damian.

Like all amnesiacs, memories had a way of coming back from the smallest of triggers through sensory perception.

He wished that Dick Grayson well.

Nightwing allowed the wind to blow through his hair. He had grown it a little longer and now there was absolutely no hint of a scar.

"I never wanted your job, you know," came a young voice from behind him, after the sound of a seemingly soft thump in gravel.

Nightwing smiled, and then cocked his head to the right.

Damian stood behind him holding a grapple gun dressed in his Nightwing Junior costume. Alfred had fixed his Robin costume, that Damian said had been ripped to shreds during a fight with Jon Kent. But he chose to continue to wear this costume right now.

"There's only one Nightwing," Damian continued. "You, Grayson, are the genuine article, and no one—no one else—could ever replace you; not as a person, nor as a group. You can't copy perfection."

Nightwing turned all the way around. Smirking, he said: "So, I'm perfect, huh? Well, thanks. But nobody's prefect, but I appreciate the sentiment." Damian seemed to blush. "It's said that plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery…Little Wing."

Damian cupped his hips. "Hey! Don't call me that! I'm not your sidekick, and that name already belongs to Todd."

Dick laughed. "Seriously, how long are you going to continue to wear that costume? Bruce needs you. Batman needs a Robin. It's always been the Dynamic Duo. It's a hallmark to Gotham City."

"As Nightwing is to Bludhaven," Damian added. "I have been toiling with the notion of hanging it up and going back to being Robin, and besides, father says the same thing. All good things must come to an end."

Dick smiled sweetly. "How many times have I thanked you for saving me?"

"I get the feeling one more time."

"Come here," Dick said, and Damian went over. Dick embraced him in a hug. Damian didn't resist, and in fact wrapped his arms around Grayson in sentiment.

Damian's soft voice could be heard in the hug: "Welcome back, brother."

Dick smiled. "Thanks again, and thanks for that condo. It's huge!"

The hug ended. "Still not big enough for your massive ego though, Grayson."

"And much too small for yours," he retorted. "No wonder you had to give it up." He smirked.

"Ouch, smack from the king of retorts, puns and jokes. Glad to have you back. Between you and I, I like your corny jokes."

Suddenly, there was the sound of a police siren in the distance, and the scream of a woman, followed by a series of gun shots. The city of Bludhaven had become alive again.

"Well, enough of this sappiness. Back to work."

"Whatever you say, Chum." Nightwing fired a grapple gun into the air, latching onto the side of a building.

"Didn't father used to call you that back in the day?" Damian followed suit with his own grapple gun.

"Yup, and he only recently explained why. It had nothing really to do with us being partners. He said I never washed my uniform and I often smelled like fish chum. Come to think of it, when was the last time you washed that costume?"

Damian sniffed himself. "Don't know, but I'm not that bad. So, is Gordon pregnant yet?"

Caught off guard, Dick stumbled slightly, as Damian jumped off the edge of the roof before him, and laughed. He swung free.

"You little sneak, using my own distraction tactics against me. You're going to get it!"

"Catch me if you can, Grayson. I bet I can get to the crime scene before you."

"Bet taken. And the winner gets to keep the name Nightwing!"

Nightwing followed, and quickly, and easily caught up to Damian, or Nightwing Junior, and together they shared the burden of the field that often weighted heavily on their shoulders of crime fighters. And yet, collectively, that burden soon got a little bit lighter working together.

Dick recalled a proverb: Birds of a father flock together. And it couldn't have been more right.

Dick won, getting to the crime scene first, and was able to keep the name Nightwing. Although, he did notice Damian pulled back at the very last moment before they touched down. But he never mentioned it.

Nightwing was back!

All thanks to Nightwing Junior!

END