A/N: I can't really call this a chapter, but it's the conclusion of the arc from Chapter 5, so it's GA Earth-2 (lol) if you want to avoid Dick as Renegade. It was longer, but I cut it at somewhere under 500 words because it started getting too out there, even for this 'verse. So I left it here, and will be getting back to regularly scheduled programming after this ^_^
This chapter is basically for IncognitoPinapple (you anon reviewer, you) and DarkGoddessofShadows who wanted more of this 'verse and a conclusion to last chapter. There is a lot more I can do with this storyline, but I'm pretty sure no one wants to see what kind of absurdity my brain was straying into. Oh, the slashy possibilities I refuse to write into this fic...
Chapter Six
He doesn't really wake up. It's like he's watching a film reel of his life, but he knows its all memory. Someone else's memories. It could probably use some somber mood music, judging by the images flitting through his mind.
He sees himself fall, hit the ground, and be enveloped in a net of familiar magic. He feels the tug of old memories that aren't his, memories of bodies he's never seen, in clothes he's only seen on statues, in paintings, in movies. He feels remorse that isn't his and a fierce anger that echoes with thousands of memories. He feels older than time and more powerful.
He sees his family fall, but it isn't John and Mary Grayson that die in the front of his mind, but Marcus Tullius Aurelius and Caius, Lavinia and Tullia, then Aelius. He sees his first kill and feels his last moments as a human fade. He smells fire and steel and thinks of Cato. Magic's cool touch and spellfire recall images of Léon.
He feels the pull between his disparate selves, the consciousness which isn't his (but still is) and his body. Its then he has a sneaking suspicion of what happened, but he's too caught up watching to looks on everyones faces, the rage, and the protectiveness. His throat goes hoarse as Val calls for Jason and Cass to guard him, his hands clench around an unfamiliar sword hilt with a natural ease and he rushes into battle beside Bruce, Slade, Tim, Roy, Wally. He's in awe of just how many people react to his fall with that much emotion.
He expected some of them to be sad, but let it go because damn it, Renegade wasn't a hero.
The remaining Gotham rogues and those from Bludhaven (Ivy, Catwoman, Mad Hatter, Lady Vic, Double Dare, Freeze, Penguin, and too many others) shift alliance. They turn on their former 'allies' and the battle turns into absolute chaos. No one really knows who to blame, but it's become a fight about him, some kind of protective streak they all have for him (one he never really knew about). And likely a lot of bruised egos on just who had the right to kill the Bat's eldest Bird.
He isn't surprised to see Slade and Bruce at Val's (his) side, leading the charge. After that brief moment of clarity, it's all movement, hypnotic, and he loses the memory strands like streams of water through his fingertips.
He wakes up knowing he shouldn't have.
A/N: Let me know what you think, if you have any questions, or any suggestions. Feedback of any sort is always welcome and keeps me from doing stupid things.
- Kirrae