Before they left Blüdhaven or even met up with the Team, Kid Flash parted ways with Batman. It suddenly seemed to him that everything might not be so simple as it seemed to be. Whatever went on in the minds of The Bats, they were still human, and bound to behave as such in at least some small way. Perhaps his presence would make no difference, but Kid Flash could not simply leave just because everything looked alright on the surface.

Not this time.

He made his way back to the docks, somehow knowing that he would find Nightwing there still. Or maybe he just hoped so. When he reached the roof, there was no sign of Nightwing save for the snow which had been churned up in the brief scuffle. But Kid Flash wasn't easily discouraged.

He had long known the secret of Nightwing's disappearing act. Just because he couldn't see him, it didn't mean Nightwing had gone far. In fact, chances were good that Nightwing was quite close by. The sight of a police cruiser coming up the street made Kid Flash duck down out of sight. They weren't after him, of course, but they'd probably be just as happy to chase Kid Flash as Nightwing.

Once the car passed out of sight, Kid Flash climbed down off the roof and began to look around. He found one of the windows of the building unsecured and saw that the snow which gathered on the sill had been all but brushed off. He pushed his way in, and closed the window behind him.

What happened in that dark and empty place he would never speak of, and wouldn't have believed if it had been someone who told him. If he'd been anyone else, he probably wouldn't have seen. Nightwing was always in possession of his personal feelings, ever confident and with a quip ready for each occasion. His pride would have made him hide from anyone save perhaps this one friend.

As it was, it seemed as though Nightwing were completely ignorant of Kid Flash's presence. Indeed, he might have been so preoccupied by his own internal turmoil that he was oblivious of everything around him. Far more likely was that he hadn't the will to avoid his friend, nor the heart to look him in the eye.

Nightwing was sitting on the floor, his head in his hands, rocking slightly in the way that unhappy children are wont to do but that adults seldom consider. At a closer glance, Kid Flash could see him shaking terribly, as though he were cold. The small choked sobs which came from him seemed out of character, and did not befit the hero Kid Flash had come to know as his friend at all.

There are many words which could be used to describe the scene, from pathetic to tragic, but Kid Flash could think of only one which seemed to apply to Nightwing at this particular moment: vulnerable.

It was a word that made his heart break for his friend. It was the single thing which no hero could ever afford to be, a condition which almost invariably proved terminal. Kid Flash knelt down beside Nightwing, but had no words to say. Neither did Nightwing acknowledge him. They sat thus for a long, long time, close enough almost to hear one another's heart beating, but not touching or speaking.

At long last, Nightwing's shaking eased and he looked up. Not at Kid Flash, but sort of past him, unseeing at the distant wall. He took a deep breath and, when he spoke, his voice was steady but low.

"I wanted to kill him,"

This didn't come as a surprise to Kid Flash. He already knew, of course. He didn't understand why, but felt that now was not the time to ask, nor even the time for him to speak. So he sat still and silent and waited for Nightwing to go on.

"I thought I had. That I could just get on, pretend nothing ever happened. But that's never how it is, is it?," he didn't wait for an answer before going on "Everything circles back in the end, the past comes back even as the future arrives for the first time,"

He paused to take a shaky breath and shifted his gaze, though his eyes still seemed unfocused. Then, at length, he went on.

"He's alive, and I'm glad. Damn me to Hell, but I'm happy about it," he shook his head "I can't go back, but I have to. If I don't... I'll be afraid forever,"

Kid Flash wasn't sure he was entirely following this one sided conversation, but sensed that his comprehension was unnecessary. That he was there was enough. Nightwing suddenly broke off and, blinking, looked at Kid Flash for the first time.

"I thought you'd gone," he said quietly "that you were done with this,"

"With the life," Kid Flash replied slowly "but just because I'm through trying to save the world doesn't mean I've stopped caring what happens to my friends,"

Nightwing laughed, a humorless laugh that bewildered Kid Flash, but not so much as what he said next.

"But I have," Nightwing told him, shaking his head "just like I said," suddenly he was more serious again "but I'm done with that too. I've had my tantrum, and now I need to get back on track,"

"On track?," Kid Flash raised an eyebrow.

"Robin may be dead, but Nightwing isn't," he explained, though that didn't clear up anything at all for Kid Flash "I won't be able to do it all at once, but... eventually... I'll have to go back to Gotham,"

Strangely, though it was Kid Flash who felt as though he were in the dark, it was Nightwing who lacked a seemingly critical piece of information. He had no idea why Batman had acted as he had then, or what had changed now. He knew nothing of the slug, though it was he who'd killed it. All he knew was that he would have to face his former mentor, on his own turf. Then, and only then, would he be able to put to rest the myriad emotions that threatened to overwhelm and consume him.

It would be different this time, he knew. For the tie which had once prevented him from attacking his father had been broken, now and forever. He was no longer helpless. Once he regained fully his former confidence, he would go back, and he would end it.

He had no idea how that would play out. Whether Batman would simply let him go as he had tonight, or whether they would have a fight to the death over it. But it didn't matter which way it happened. Nightwing would face it. When he was ready, he would go home. He was through running.

"Wally, you've already done more than you have to. But could I ask one more thing of you?,"

"Sure," Kid Flash said without hesitation "what?,"

"Stay," was the soft reply "not forever. Just... just until... until...," for once, Nightwing was stammering, unable to say what he wanted to.

"Don't," Kid Flash couldn't prevent himself from smiling slightly at the absurdity of Nightwing being at a loss for words "I know what you mean. I'll hang around until you get yourself back together,"

"Thank you,"

Those two words meant far more coming from Nightwing than perhaps any other person on the planet except maybe Batman. There were two things which didn't come easy to Nightwing. Apologies and expressed gratitude. Though Batman knew much, and was a truly exceptional teacher, those two concepts were as alien to him as Superman was to Earth.

January 18th

"Yo, Ricky, who's your friend?," Jack's question was loud enough to be heard over the machinery.

Grant looked up from his work to see that Rick was, indeed, being accompanied by a boy a few years older than himself. The older boy had a few freckles and a tussle of red hair.

"Name's Wally," the new-comer replied.

"What brings you here?," Grant asked as he walked over to the two boys so they could hear one another better over the sound of the work crew.

"Looking' for work," Wally said, shrugging casually "my friend says you might be able to use another hand. Can you?,"

Grant raised both eyebrows. He hadn't reckoned on providing jobs for the world's runaways. But it was true that Rick was a good worker and, if his friend were half so reliable, he'd be worth his weight in gold. It wouldn't be smart to turn him down.

"You know construction?," Grant asked.

"I'm a quick study," Wally replied modestly.

Grant bit his lower lip, and then turned to Rick, doing his best to look stern. But it was hard to do with Rick, who he'd come to like quite well. Aside from which, there was a difference in the boy from when they'd last met. For once, he didn't hesitate to meet Grant's gaze, nor did he look away after awhile. The sharp indigo gaze was actually rather intimidating.

"You vouch for this kid?," Grant asked.

"He's my best friend. If that's good enough for you, then yes," came the retort which seemed halfway between amused and aggressive.

"Alright, but he better not cause me any grief," Grant sighed "come on... Wally, was it?. I'll fill you in on the rules you'll be following if you want to work here. Ricky, go find Marlow, he could use a hand,"

Rick and Wally exchanged glances, but Grant couldn't guess what they were thinking, nor did he want to try. But he couldn't have missed the connection between the two if he'd wanted to. Rick, who barely ever spoke, said everything in the way of his expression and body language. And everything about him said that this boy was different from Grant and the rest of the crew, who Rick had begun to warm up to. This was a friend whom he trusted, perhaps beyond Grant's ability to comprehend.

That put Grant's mind somewhat more at ease in a way, knowing that Rick wasn't just vouching for any druggy runaway who happened to traipse his way. Except for the fact that they looked nothing alike, Grant might have guessed they were brothers.

After Wally signed on, Grant asked a question which had been bugging him for quite awhile. He didn't normally have much of an interest in his employees, nor was he typically nosy. But something about Rick's situation had been bothering him since he'd first met the kid.

"So how do you and Ricky know one another?,"

Wally blinked, a moment of confusion clouding his features. Then his expression cleared and he shrugged casually.

"We travel in the same circles. We've worked together quite a bit in the past,"

"Know anything about where he came from?," Grant pressed hopefully.

"Nothing I'm willing to share," Wally replied truthfully.

Grant wouldn't even have gotten that much out of him had not Nightwing, earlier in the morning, informed him of where he'd been working and what his opinion of the people there was.

"So you don't know if he has any folks who'll come lookin' for him?," Grant asked.

"What's it to you?," Wally countered evasively.

"Probably less than it is to you," Grant admitted "you being his friend and all. But even I can see he's been abused, and quite badly at that. I don't want any trouble, but if there's to be any I'd like to know about it beforehand,"

"His father won't come after him," Wally said "and neither will anybody else. Can I get to work now?,"

"Hmm?. Oh sure. Ricky can show you the ropes if he's through helping Marlow. If not, get Jack to give you a hand. Ricky can at least point him out to you,"

"That employer of yours is awfully interested in your past," Kid Flash said that evening as he and Nightwing set out to patrol the city together.

He didn't add why Grant was so interested. That part concerned him somewhat. Taking the builder's observation into account made Nightwing's behavior seem much less random and unpredictable. But it was hard to believe that Batman's treatment, no matter how harsh, ever amounted to true abuse. Aside from which, it would take more than a few insults or beatings to turn Nightwing as vicious as he had so recently been acting.

"He's a good man," Nightwing returned "unfortunately, that may mean he'll start digging and find that Rick looks an awful lot like Dick Grayson,"

"Think he'll make trouble for Wayne?,"

"Not my problem," was the curt reply.

January 21st, 10:37 PM

The weather had been mild the past few days, and the nights had settled into a comfortable (if not entirely peaceable) routine. Though for the most part Nightwing was a ferocious and incorrigible vigilante, there were times when he would suddenly leave off the criminal hunting and ramble to some insignificant part of the city whereupon he would settle into a mood of silent melancholy.

Kid Flash let him go where he would, usually following but sometimes getting the sense that Nightwing would prefer to be alone. Though Kid Flash missed Artemis terribly and wanted nothing more than to go back to the life he'd left, he was not altogether unhappy.

There was something wildly satisfying about taking down petty criminals, putting a stop to attempted muggings and robberies, sometimes as many as twenty or so in a night. But what he found he liked the best was the day time, when he and Nightwing went to work on the building which was now so nearly completed. He found that he had a taste for building things, and discovered he enjoyed his friend's company just as much without the mask as with it.

Tonight, Nightwing had led the way to what seemed like the last tall building in the city before it began to sprawl away into increasingly wild countryside. Even without knowing which way he was facing on a compass, Kid Flash would have known they were turned towards Gotham.

The way Nightwing looked out past the city at the dark skyline beyond gave it away. In his eyes there flickered the fires of patient memory and it seemed to Kid Flash that he might know all the secrets of Nightwing's life if only he could read the story told by those dark eyes. But he couldn't. He was no mind reader, nor was he Batman, and that thoroughly disqualified him from ever fully understanding what was going on in Nightwing's head just by looking at him.

But he could see plainly the struggle his friend was going through, even if he couldn't understand it. And he knew the only way he could help was to be there. He sort of wondered why him and not someone else. Aqualad with his infinite patience, Miss Martian whose compassion for others seemed boundless, or... well... anyone else.

Then again, Nightwing himself had said it. Kid Flash was his best friend.

"Is it time?," Kid Flash asked after an interminably long silence.

Nightwing's gaze fell from the sky to the earth below, which was all the answer he gave. It wasn't exactly a confirmation or a denial. After several minutes, he turned away towards the city. No. It wasn't time yet, but soon. Very soon. Of that there could be no doubt.

Cole regained his consciousness slowly, bit by bit. It started with a dull ache in his head, which seemed to spread dimly through the rest of his body. He was alive. That itself seemed like a miracle to him. He remembered vaguely following Nightwing, and then the crash, the advancing assailants and... his brain faltered as it tried to reconcile its opinion of Nightwing with what his eyes told it that he had seen that night. He eventually gave up and fell back into darkness.

But now it was sleep. He had no idea that Nightwing was presently being hunted down in his name. Perhaps if he had known, he might have resisted sleep. Then again, perhaps not. For nothing does a human resist more in this world than admitting they were wrong.

Yet even in his drug addled state, Cole knew he hadn't seen the last of Nightwing.