The dawn had brought with it not only further news of Nightwing, but also a rough Northern wind that pushed a storm on ahead of it. Ominous clouds rolled in, shuttled violently across the sky by a fierce icy wind that blasted through trees and wound its way through streets, as though seeking any source of warmth and attempting to obliterate it with frozen breath from above.
And too, the news latched onto more stories which were mere half-truths or out-and-out lies, further demonizing Nightwing over the course of the afternoon. They did this in much the same manner as when a dog is said to have attacked someone and then the media spends the entire day attempting to instill a terrible and undying fear of whatever flavor of "vicious dog breed" is the current favorite in the hearts and minds of their audience. It doesn't matter if the stories are true, or even if the deed was done by the breed in question, just so long as the reports are sensational and keep ratings high.
"Be afraid, be very afraid" should be the tag line of most major networks.
The Team, and Batman for that matter, knew this of course. But they knew also that there was almost always a grain of truth in the vast lie that made up the stories. They had no way of knowing that Nightwing had actually done nothing wrong save briefly lose his temper, which is a high crime in the world of superheroes, but one which no hero can claim to be innocent of.
Now the media aired with apparent glee all the things they had been downplaying up to now. The violence of Nightwing against the criminals he fought. They spoke eloquently and enthusiastically of the broken bones and hospital stays the various hoods endured. They cited that these were human beings, deserving humane treatment just like anyone else. "What if this were your son?" one interviewed young policemen asked.
Now the news broadcasts made light of the crime in Blüdhaven, and barely mentioned the victims at all. If ever there was a fickle entity in the world, it was the news. One minute they were idolizing you, the next they'd turned on you and uncovered every dirty secret you didn't have, airing your dirty laundry in the face of the general public, so to speak. Sometimes even someone else's laundry if they couldn't find yours.
Of course, throughout the day, there was no sign of Nightwing. Police searched in vain for traces of him, reporters went to every source they had, but nobody knew anything of Nightwing. They didn't know who he was, or where he made his lair. The hunt continued nevertheless, and now the police were settling in for the long haul. One mistake which was clearly not the vigilante's fault was not truly worth all the man power at their disposal. But now it seemed that Nightwing was going after their own, and getting more dangerous. They couldn't just wait for a chance at him, they needed to hunt him down.
Through it all, there was perhaps only one person in the world who refused to believe any of what he saw on the news. That person was Wally, who sat in the hotel room he'd rented, wondering where he should go from here. He heard the news broadcasts, and took them in with disbelief. Regardless of what might have changed in his friend, he refused to believe that he'd turned killer.
But he'd seen how easily the rest of the Team fell into doubt. It was the price one paid for being so secretive and unpredictable as Nightwing had always been. Wally had never had any doubts about his friend's loyalty or commitment to the mission, but he knew the others had.
He knew too that Batman's relationship to Nightwing had shifted somehow, that perhaps they'd even become enemies. He knew that someone would come after Nightwing. And, judging from their last encounter, Nightwing would kill whoever it was. Or be killed by them.
Somehow, he knew he had to stop that before it happened. But he had no better idea of where to look for Nightwing than anyone else. Still, come nightfall, he would be out, and he would be searching. Something told him that tonight was going to be a turning point, for better or for worse.
Somehow, everything would come down to a moment in the darkness. It would redefine everything. He had no special powers of precognition to tell him this, just that special sixth sense most heroes are gifted with, an almost supernatural awareness of impending events which would alter the course of their lives forever, almost as though fate were an angel on their shoulder whispering to them.
Nightwing had no knowledge of what had been said about him on the news, but he was fully aware of his new status as fugitive. He knew also that someone, hopefully not Kid Flash, would be coming to put a stop to his activities. Nightwing didn't know if he could convince them to leave him alone, but he no longer had any desire to fight, or to die.
He just wanted to be left alone. He needed time to sort himself out. He wasn't entirely sure what force had yanked him back from the brink, but he wasn't about to fly in the face of whatever it was that had done it. He was no fool in that. A second chance had been given him, and he wasn't going to return it.
Yet there was nothing he could think of to say or do that would prove to anyone that he realized that he'd crossed the line between darkness and evil, or that he had no intention of doing so again. No one he knew had any reason to believe anything he said. Not now.
What he didn't know, couldn't have even suspected, was that a ghost from his past was descending. Batman was coming to Blüdhaven.
January 17th, 08:30 PM
Snow had begun to fall around sunset, and had briefly worked itself into a real storm. Now there was only the wind and a few light flakes falling. But the streets were buried in deep snow, and the temperature was well below freezing.
The Team didn't allow that to bother them, nor did they permit it to hinder their progress. They had arrived via the bioship, but had then set out on foot in search of Nightwing. Batman knew, of course, that they would never find him if he didn't want them to.
They split up to cover more ground, sticking mostly to the darker and danker sections of Blüdhaven, rightly guessing that this was where Nightwing preferred to hang about. They had to take care not to be spotted by police cruisers and eager young reporters, all of whom were just as desperate to locate the elusive Nightwing as they were.
For once the criminal element of Blüdhaven was strangely silent. As if they had all collectively opened their doors, looked outside, taken in the heavy police and vigilante presence in their respective neighborhoods, and gone back inside to watch television until this whole thing blew over, in much the same way as someone might stay home if there was a blizzard.
Following his instincts, Batman eventually found himself on a flat rooftop near the docks. He didn't know, couldn't know, that he'd landed directly on the roof of Nightwing's lair. Nightwing couldn't have missed Batman's presence if he'd tried.
Whether he heard a noise, or saw the figure on his rooftop from a distance, Nightwing didn't know at first just who or what he was looking at, though whatever tipped him off struck a familiar chord with him. It wasn't until they were facing one another from opposite sides of the roof that either of them knew for certain who the other was.
"You!," a myriad emotions, a lifetime of anger and sorrow, fear and guilt, all wrapped into the single word, which then hung in the air as they stared at one another in silence.
The word was spoken by Nightwing, who then lost all ability to speak for several seconds as countless thoughts and ideas went swirling through his brain, trying to claw their way from his throat but none were able to because they all got in each other's way. Batman's reasons for silence were undoubtedly much the same. Disbelief, fury and fear all vied for top spot in Nightwing's emotions. But, above all, he felt a powerful and mystifying sense of relief. He couldn't understand it, or accept it, but he couldn't deny and ignore it, either.
"Interesting choice of costume," Batman said at last.
"I based it off of yours," Nightwing admitted quietly "but went for something slightly less theatrical and maybe a bit more practical,"
"How is Nightwing less theatrical?," Batman asked.
"I didn't call myself that," Nightwing replied, shrugging "the general public did. Blame them,"
They lapsed into uneasy silence. It surprised them both that they had not immediately descended into violence. Nightwing, of course, had no way of knowing that the fight in the train yard had freed Batman's will from the slug which had made him so deliriously angry. Nor could Batman understand why Nightwing didn't move to kill him at once, as he'd done in the aforementioned train yard. They both knew that Nightwing had tried to kill him, had moved with every intention of killing.
But even now, after everything, Nightwing was unable to entirely still the faint voice of hope, that told him it had to have all been a mistake, that there must have been a reason.
The air was alive with tension, they could feel it flowing like a current between them. Any wrong move and the fragile white flag which seemed to have been thrown up between them could be torn away by the wind. They both had things they wanted to say, but neither dared speak the words, lest they be taken the wrong way.
"I didn't attack those policemen," Nightwing said after a lengthy pause "or any of the other things the media is no doubt accusing me of,"
"I never said you did," Batman replied neutrally.
"So why are you here?," Nightwing asked, a flare of anger briefly lighting in his eyes, the same look an animal will give to another who has violated the borders of its territory.
"I needed to see for myself," Batman said.
"See what?. How badly I've messed up?," Nightwing spat.
"No," Batman told him "I needed to know you were alright,"
"That's not your call to make," Nightwing growled "You lost the right to judge me a long time ago,"
"I know," Batman replied "I just wanted to see how much damage I'd really done,"
"Enough," was the stoic reply "you've done enough,"
"I can see that,"
"So why don't you go home," it was hardly a suggestion, spoken more as a veiled threat than anything.
Heroes don't share their cities gladly most times. They guard their borders jealously against both criminal and vigilante alike. Which is why most cities have, at most, a hero and a sidekick or two. But Nightwing had never staked claim to any city, even as he'd graduated from being a sidekick. He preferred to put his efforts into the Team, which worked worldwide.
But something had clearly changed. Nightwing didn't have to say it to make it abundantly clear that Blüdhaven was his now, and anyone with any sense would leave him to it. And Batman was nothing if not sensible. He turned to go, and Nightwing watched him intently, as though suspecting it would take more than that to drive his former mentor away.
Of course, they both knew that there was no force which could be used to make Batman go. That he was going quietly was his own choice. There was no need to save face or defend pride, and he had no desire to prove his superiority over his son. He might have gone away entirely had someone not interfered just then.
Kid Flash had gone in search of Nightwing. Seeing both Nightwing and Batman on the roof together, Batman with his back to Nightwing, brought a memory of what Kid Flash had been told about why Batman couldn't go in search of Nightwing.
Without thinking, he went on the offensive, his one thought being to prevent Nightwing from doing something he would later regret. He ran at Nightwing and struck the latter heavily with his right shoulder. Nightwing slid sideways with the impact.
In a flash, Batman had flown to his defense. In the dark, not one of the three had a good view of what was actually happening, nor did they have time to think about it. Each reacted fully on his instincts. Kid Flash had sprang to Nightwing's defense, but so did Batman. The third party to act, Nightwing, did something far more bizarre than what the first two had.
The attack on his person when his attention had been so taken by the presence of Batman had rattled him. Seeing the black cape of his former mentor fluttering so close to him brought on a powerful flashback which swept Nightwing up in its vicious current. Rather than attack the one who had assaulted him, his clouded mind bade him turn on his protector. Had he been in his right mind, he would have known that Batman hadn't attacked him at all.
But, like the others, he reacted on purest instinct. And it had been more than beaten into him that the cape and cowl was to be hated and feared above all else. Whether it was fury or fear which spurred him into action, Nightwing would later be unable to decide.
Either way, he lunged at Batman, using his own weight to throw his adversary sideways, before falling upon him. He didn't draw a weapon, either because he hadn't the time to do so or because some part of his violently resisted a replay of what had happened in the train yard, he didn't know.
Kid Flash, dazed and breathless, staggered upright and realized that Batman and Nightwing were grappling a short distance away. He stepped in again, bodily knocking Nightwing to the side. In doing so, he left himself open for another assault by Batman. Snow flew in all directions as the three alternately attacked and defended, practically blind.
In movies, fights are often portrayed as slow, dance-like affairs, where the combatants frequently back up to size one another up. But there was none of that here. This was a fight which bordered on madness, and there was certainly nothing artful or elegant in it.
But in this next round, as Batman once again moved to Nightwing's defense, something vaguely resembling sanity entered the latter's brain. His subconscious began to process, even as his conscious mind thought only to rid himself of his tormentor once and for all.
When next Batman and Nightwing went head to head, the subconscious and quite sane part of Nightwing's brain told him that Batman was doing nothing to fight back, barely even anything to defend himself. Even as Nightwing drove him onto his back, Batman did nothing against him. Kid Flash regained his feet, but this time he didn't need to intervene.
Even as he moved to stop Nightwing, Nightwing himself sprang away. Kid Flash barreled into empty air where Nightwing had formerly been, and nearly ran himself off the rooftop, catching himself just in time. He turned and found Batman still on the ground, Nightwing standing several feet away.
All three were panting, their breath coming out in great white plumes. But only Nightwing was shaking. He trembled, and there were not enough words in the world to describe what he felt.
His dark eyes were locked with Batman's, and Kid Flash could almost feel some kind of communication passing between them even as no words were spoken. Something was happening, but Kid Flash didn't know enough to fully understand what it was.
At last, without any hesitancy in his movements, Batman got to his feet. He moved without any apparent wariness. In the silent exchange, there had clearly been something that lifted the mood of battle from Nightwing's mind. Batman dusted himself off, taking his time and doing so in silence. Nightwing observed dispassionately, while Kid Flash stood tense and uncertain to one side.
Not knowing what had set Nightwing against Batman meant he could hardly tell if the issue had been resolved, or if indeed it was possible to resolve at all. It all seemed so random and senseless and confusing to Kid Flash, but whatever it was, it was extremely unnervingly real.
"If you ever want to come back," Batman said slowly, with apparent heaviness of the heart "my door is always open to you. Until then...," he trailed off.
Phrases like "good luck" and "take care of yourself" were more alien to him than any foreign language, and they would go unappreciated by Nightwing for the same reasons. They were words which held no meaning for either of them, so it was pointless to say them. Nightwing dipped his head in acknowledgment, the motion so slight that Kid Flash almost didn't notice it.
Having crossed to the fire escape of the building, Batman looked over his shoulder at Kid Flash.
"Are you coming?,"
Kid Flash looked from Batman to Nightwing uncertainly, but then followed the former, knowing somehow that there was nothing more he could do for the latter save leave him in peace to work out whatever chaos seemed to be in his mind.