Chapter 4-Dead Man's Bluff

3 Years Later…

Nightwing's breath came in short, shallow pants as he crouched upon the top of a low-lying building in his town (Bludhaven), scouring the alleys' below for any sign of his enemy.

Hearing the slightest hint of movement behind him, Nightwing tensed, and then ducked at the last second to avoid a bullet through his brain. Almost immediately after he sprang back up and span around, leg flying out to kick his enemy.

She stepped back to avoid the attack and then spoke, "Now, now, Nightwing. You should know by now that it's just not that easy."

"Lady Vic," he replied, voice deep and even, "What a pleasure. May I enquire as to why I'm being blessed with such a pleasure?" A smirk rested comfortably on his lips and amusement danced in his eyes behind his mask.

A melodic laugh sounded from the assassin's throat, "Why, you pissed off Blockbuster again, of course."

"Of Course," he said, smirk not fading and voice not changing.

Lady Vic snorted, a very unladylike action, and then leapt forward to begin their dance again; attack, attack, defend, and counterattack.

Truth be told, of all Blockbuster's (many) enemies, Nightwing was her favourite. Not because he was the most skilled or because even she was never quite good enough to kill him, which, in itself, was an extremely interesting trait. No, she liked Nightwing because he was always good for some light-hearted banter in the middle of a fight-he was fun, for lack of a better word.

That, of course, didn't mean that she would show him mercy.

Nightwing, for what it was worth, felt much the same. The banter reminded him of his days on the Team-days he sorely missed.

Deciding it was getting late and the fight had gone on for long enough, Nightwing dodged to the left, agilely slipped under her outstretched arm, and then forced an elbow straight into the centre of her spine. She grunted and fell forwards. Wasting no time, Nightwing grabbed both her hands, pulled them tightly behind her back, and handcuffed them. He then removed all her weapons and delivered her to the front of the police station-ensuring she was secure and of no threat first, of course.

As Nightwing travelled back to his home base-where his doctors worked, not his apartment- he couldn't help but think back to the day he had 'died' and how much he had changed since then.

It had been exactly three years since he had faked his death and he had changed a lot.

He was no longer the care-free, always cackling little bird he once was-he'd grown up. Now seventeen he was in his last year of school, far more sombre and almost never truly smiled.

He was also Bludhaven's resident hero.

It's only hero actually.

Which was precisely why he'd chosen to set up base there. Because no one would recognise him.

Today was a bittersweet day. Sweet because it reminded him of how long he'd been managing to protect the people he loved, and Bitter because it was a harsh and fresh reminder of how he was unable to return to his true home-with the team and the league and Batman.

Really, it hurt.

A lot.

Nightwing's heart felt heavy as he thought back to the day that he had 'died'.

Flashback

3 Years Earlier…

Dick stared into the mirror in the en suite from the medical room he was staying in. The others had left hours ago, determining that he needed his rest, and he could now faintly hear them chatting in the lounge on the other side of the mountain.

Jason had been a surprise, but a pleasant one, and he figured it was fate's way of saying that it was his time to go and Alfred and Batman would be alright.

And fate wasn't wrong, it was his time to go. He had to, if he wanted to protect the people he loved.

Staring into the mirror, he narrowed his eyes and spoke, voice low, determined and furious, "You chose the wrong guy to do your dirty work. If you thought I would willingly play a pawn in your plan to take down the league, then you obviously doubted my determination. I will not let you win. You don't get what you want."

A mixture of anger and determination burning in his gut, Dick turned away from the mirror, eyes hard and will unwavering.

Quietly, silently, he crept out of the medical room and ghosted through the halls of the Mountain. Stopping at his bedroom he slipped inside and quickly grabbed a bag and filled it with all the essentials he thought he would need; clothes, weapons etc… That done, just as quietly as before, he slid out of the room and glided down the hallways.

Approaching the living room he stopped-breath catching in his throat as he watched his family interact. His heart ached at the sight, the knowledge of what he was about to do making it almost crack with grief. However, instead of causing him to have second thoughts, the sight only bolstered his surety at what he was about to do. For all the sight broke his heart it also cause his courage to grow.

Unhesitatingly, he turned his back on the sight and strode silently away. Upon reaching the door he wasted no time, fear or apprehension on quietly opening it and leaving without a single goodbye.

It was only when he was far enough away that he turned to look at the home that he had just willingly left behind. His heart raced in his chest and he had to swallow to force the pain back down. But his hands, his hands were unshaking as one rose in front of him, holding within it a long-distance trigger.

Taking a deep breath, Dick steeled himself and pressed the button, then turned and began again began to walk away-leaving his old, treasured life behind.

In the mountain, a bomb exploded.

Cameron was a no-nonsense sought of woman. She didn't take crap and she didn't let people she loved take crap. She was the kind of woman who you would trust undeniably with your life but was also more terrifying than half the world's most dangerous and insane villains.

Which was probably why she was such a master in her trade.

Being a doctor that was-a neurosurgeon if you're going to be specific (though, that field specification had only begun when Dick asked her for help).

Cameron had known Dick for years-they'd had a chance meeting when he was out on a patrol with Batman and had been hurt and she had patched him up (being a med-student at the time) and had offered her help if ever he was in need.

As it turned out, he did end up in need-unfortunately it was far more need than she could provide on her own.

Hence the fact that she had chosen the most skilled and trustworthy doctors she knew from around the globe and convinced them to join her. It helped that Dick was paying them all almost double their previous salaries-though, in fairness, three years into the job they had all grown to love the kid so much they probably would have done it for free anyway.

Due to this Dick had the most skilled team of doctors in the world working for him, Cameron at their head, and he was still unable to return home. No matter how skilled they were they just couldn't find a way to extract the chip without killing the kid-and they really weren't willing to kill him.

Cameron did feel terrible about that, however, she stood by the fact that it was no excuse for Dick to turn up on the doorstep of their doctors practice (cover for so many doctors being in one place) bloody and beat at least once a week.

Cameron was a no-nonsense type of woman-and she did not approve.

"Dick," she said, voice level but harsh, motherly, "What have I told you about looking after yourself? Honestly, by the time we find a way to remove that chip from your blasted head you'll have gotten yourself so beat up you'll be too much of a vegetable for it to matter anyway!"

Dick winced at her tone, really hating when he incurred her wrath, "Sorry, Cam, Vicky's a tad tricky."

She gave him a look at the terrible joke and then sighed and shook her head, ushering him up onto a medical table and grabbing some supplies as she did.

Turning back around she began to dab at the bullet wound in his shoulder, taking no notice of his wincing. It was only after five minutes with him not saying anything that she looked up into his face and noticed the solemn look on it. She frowned. Not liking the depressive air that was surrounding him.

"Dick," she said, much softer and kinder this time, "What's wrong?"

His voice was just as soft as he replied, eyes staring at his hands, "It's been exactly three years. Since I 'died', I mean."

Her eyes widened minutely as she realised what he meant, comprehension dawning on her almost immediately after he spoke.

Of course, it was three years ago to the day.

Yes, three years…and yet she remembered it as if it were yesterday.

Flashback

3 Years Earlier...

Cameron was worried.

Dick never called.

But he had, and his voice had sounded resigned, and now she was stood outside an abandoned building in Bludhaven of all places because that was where Dick had asked her to wait for him.

Of course, it wasn't the first time he had come to her for medical help-he trusted her after all-but it was the first time he had called instead of turning up in person on her doorstep.

That alone cause alarm bells to ring for her.

Adding to that, he hadn't sounded injured, he'd just sounded sad, tired, pained.

Cameron was worried…and beginning to get impatient.

"Cam," a voice suddenly rang out from behind her and she whipped around to see Dick stood there looking casual, a small, dull smirk on his lips.

"Dick," she breathed, voice relieved, and flung her arms around him. Barely three seconds later she pulled back and cupped his cheeks in her palms as she stared directly into his eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked, straight to the point and voice serious.

"I died," he replied, voice barley a whisper and she pulled slightly back, shock written on her face.

"What…" she asked, voice just as soft if not far more confused.

Cam saw from the corner of her eyes as Dick started at the sudden stop Cam made outside of his apartment. She had driven him home, insisting that he was far too tired to take himself, and when he had argued she had made it doctor's orders.

Silently, she went with him up to his apartment, watching as he unlocked the door and slipped inside, feet quiet and light with every step-a habit picked up from all his years of being a superhero. He didn't argue as she followed, knowing that it was because she worried for him, cared for him.

Cam remained lost in thought as she stood in the doorway to the kitchen watching him going about his nightly activities. They were both silent, sombre at the memories this particular anniversary bought up, and Cam couldn't help but summarise in her head what had happened after they had met up…it seemed like so long ago now.

Dick, after shocking her with that one, odd sentence, had spent the next two hours explaining to her the events of the days leading up to their unconventional meeting.

By the time he was done she was crying and hugging him again.

After that, with the money he had in his private account (one Bruce had set up for Dick but that he couldn't access or monitor even with Dick's death) they had begun building a new life in Bludhaven. Cameron had begun to specialise in the field of neuroscience and surgery and Dick had become Nightwing.

In reality it was only because of Cameron that he had returned to the superhero life. Because, as she had put it, 'you've let go of everything from your past, if you're going to stay sane you need to keep at least one thing. Bludhaven doesn't have a hero, that's why you chose here, so I suggest you begin with that.'

Thus, Nightwing was born.

Of course, this was after reality had caught up to him and he'd finally had his emotional breakdown.

Cam had been with him, watching him struggle with his new life, for four months when it finally happened.

Flashback

3 Years Earlier...

She stood in the door for a few minutes, leaning against the frame as she watched him, contemplating. A strong feeling of sadness swelled in her chest as she watched, choking her.

Dick was sat in his apartment living room with the lights turned off. His back was pressed against a wall and his knees were raised, suggesting he had slid down the wall as a feeling of despair had begun to overwhelm him. He was staring out the window, his head turned towards it and silver moonlight shining on his face. The picture would have been beautiful, if not for the fact that the moonlight only highlighted the tears sliding silently down his face.

"It just hit you, didn't it? Everything you've lost, it just dawned on you," Cam said, her voice barely a whisper of breath in the silent room.

"Cam," he replied, softly acknowledging her, "You know, I'm supposed to be this brilliant, acrobat superhero who never falls and never breaks. But, I lost my first family in death, I watched them fall and I broke then. I have, had, this wonderful new family now, and I couldn't lose them again. Rationally I know I did what was necessary. I did it to protect them because I love them more than anything and I couldn't lose them again. Rationally, I know that. But, I lost them anyway. They're not dead but I can't go back, I can't be surrounded by their love again. I lost them," he wiped away a few tears, "I bleed when I fall, I can crash and I can break. For all the superhero I am, Cam…I'm only human." He began to sob in earnest and she dropped down beside him, wrapping her arms around him to give him comfort the only way she knew how.

"I'm going to fix this," she said, determination colouring her soft voice as she held the broken bird, "You have got the best team of doctors in the world on your side and we are going to figure this out. You may not be with your family right now but you are not alone. We will stand by you and we will return you to your family, no matter what it takes. One day you will go home, Dick," suddenly she removed herself from hic completely except for her hands on his shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes, "You hear me, Richard? One day, you will go home."

Through his tears he looked deeply into her eyes, searching for something, and then slowly nodded. Cam thought that maybe, just maybe, he had seen something that lit a spark of belief within him.

As Cam left his apartment, quiet goodbyes exchanged, she thought about the fact that that spark of belief he had had was beginning to fade.

She had no idea how to reignite it.

Cam hoped they would have a breakthrough soon, or, at least, that something would happen to make his hopes flare and his passion burn once more.

Jason Todd was hurting.

He was hurting because he had finally found his mother-his true birth mother-and she had ended up being a total bitch. She was being blackmailed by the Joker and in an effort to repay her debt had handed him-her own bloody son-over to the Joker.

Now, Robin, Jason, was tied up on the floor of an abandoned warehouse, head pounding and dazed.

His mother had betrayed him.

His head was beating like a jackhammer.

And Joker, Joker was going to come back any minute and he was going to do everything he could to break the little bird.

So yes, Jason Todd was hurting.

He was hurting a lot.

It didn't help that no one knew where he was.