"So," Robin started awkwardly. Nightweaver dreaded the coming question. "What's been going on with you? We haven't really talked since you got back, and it's been almost two months."
"Use your imagination," he responded blankly, not wanting to talk about the past.
"Seriously. Just talk and let it be done."
"Broke up with Kitrina. She hates me. I've been training almost nonstop to keep my mind off of it. I went to Slade and Batman both for more training. When I'm not training, I'm making mods to my armor. Like the wrist claws. I've got extendable boot knives now. Anything I can do to stop my mind from wandering to this exact subject. So yeah, I've been pretty shitty, and I'd rather leave it at that." He wiped the last of the sewage off of him and went to climb the ladder, but Robin put a gloved hand on his shoulder.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Hit me."
"Do you think I could make it on my own?"
"Probably. You're like a mini-Batman."
"That's exactly what I meant. I've been trying to come up with my own persona, reinvent myself out of being Robin."
"What do you mean?"
"I think I'm going to give Batman back the costume. I was talking to Superman, and he gave me an idea, some animal on Krypton. The closest translation to English was Nightwing."
"Talk to Wayne. Don't just drop it on him."
"I'm just sick of living in his shadow, you know?"
"Do what you feel is right." He climbed the ladder, exiting the sewers and emerging out into the street. He helped Robin get out, then popped his neck. He heard a thud behind him and spun around. Catgirl had just landed behind them.
"You two alright? We tried to get a hold of you, but we lost your signals."
"We're fine." He shot a grappling line up and pulled himself onto the nearest skyscraper, landing cleanly on the roof. He sat down, legs dangling over the edge, and stared out into the city.
I really need to grow the fuck up. Running away from my ex like that. Even when she was just trying to check on me.
"You alright?" He turned to see Kitrina standing over him, her mask pulled off and in her hand. She sat down next to him, looking away.
"Fine." She turned to him, trying to look into his eyes, but he was staring straight down at the street below them.
"I'm sorry, Simon. I know that you didn't have much of a choice. I shouldn't be judging you for making an impossible decision. I'm glad you at least tried to save one of us. I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I miss you."
"What?"
"Nevermind. I know you're just trying to make me feel better."
"I don't blame you for making a choice. You could have just not told me and the only other one who would know would be Raven."
"You're a good girl, Kitrina. Don't waste your time on me. Find somebody who deserves you more." He let himself fall off of the building, swinging away as he did so. He made his way back home, first crossing downtown, then moving through the warehouse district, then into his driveway. He checked his communicator, ignoring two messages, one from Kitrina and one from Robin. As he looked back up to walk inside, he saw Catgirl standing in the doorway.
"You move fast."
"Yeah. And as for what you said earlier, no." She walked away, leaving him slightly confused. He walked into his house and went upstairs, sitting down on his bed. He stayed in place for a long time, trying to think about what had just happened.
The next day, Nightweaver woke with a start; his communicator was blaring on full alert. He answered it, seeing Robin on the other end.
"What is it?"
"Scarecrow. You and me. He's in the warehouse district, near you."
"I'm on it. Where are the others?"
"Kitrina's gone dark."
"We had a confrontation," he noted as he started putting his armor on.
"How bad was it?"
"I have no idea. The others?"
"Making sure it's not a ploy by somebody else, patrolling the city."
"Good. I'll be there in a minute."
Weaver swung low and rolled on the asphalt, coming to a standing position next to Robin. They watched calmly as Scarecrow ran into a warehouse, screaming maniacally.
"Ready?"
"Absolutely. Watch my back, I watch yours." Robin took the lead, kicking the door in and looking around. Scarecrow had taken his mask off, revealing Jonathan Crane.
"End of the line, Scarecrow. We're taking you in." He began laughing, seemingly mocking Robin's threat.
"He's serious, scumbag." He just kept on laughing, and Robin's eyes widened. He rushed forwards, shouting something about Joker Toxin. He tried to hold his jaw in place, but Scarecrow kept laughing until he ran out of oxygen in his lungs and died, his face disfigured in a smile. There was a slip of paper in his pocket; Simon plucked it out and unfolded it.
Robin and Nightweaver. I'm sure you've just watched me die. I needed to give you a piece of this puzzle, so that maybe the one searching for my head can be caught. I was not killed by the Joker. I inhaled his toxin to kill myself. All I know right now is that there is an assassin following me; who, I do not know, but he was sent by somebody far more powerful. I-
Before Weaver could finish reading, the door was kicked open behind them. Slade stepped in over the threshold, and Robin immediately tensed up.
"Slade!" he hissed, at the ready in seconds.
"I'm not here to fight, Robin. I saw my good friend here alive and well again and wanted to speak to him. Congratulations on not being dead again. I might know who was following your buddy here."
"You're the assassin. We aren't stupid."
"If I was, you'd both be dead. I've got a lead. Weaver, let's go."
"He's right, Robin. I'll be back."
Deathstroke lead Robin into the Joker's Jump City headquarters.
"He said it wasn't the clown."
"This hasn't been Joker's in a while. It belongs to a certain Penguin now." He pushed the door open and they saw it in total disarray.
"Looks like a tornado came through here."
"That's normal. Joker's goons are maniacs." They descended down further, finding traces of blood, which Deathstroke continued to mark as entirely normal for a Joker Clan hideout. They reached the final back room and Deathstroke pushed the door open.
Oswald Cobblepot was lying against a table inside, a nail through each of his hands, with a mask stapled to his face and a bullet through his head. Blood was sprayed across his chest; written in front of him in it on the ground was a message that could only be for Weaver.
YOU'RE NEXT, KID.
"NO! Not again! Not again not again not again not again!" Weaver started to lose his breath, first hyperventilating, then sucking in incredibly deep breaths. He rushed out of the hideout, Deathstroke shouting after him with no effect. He ran and ran, sprinting through the streets, jumping over cars. Everywhere he looked, he saw the faintest signs of a black skull, and every time he did, he ran that much faster. He reached home, shouldered the door open, ran into the basement, and locked himself in the panic room. His mind was racing and he couldn't focus on anything but the sense of impending doom that Black Mask brought him.
This didn't happen last time! What the hell is wrong with me? Get a grip! GET A GRIP! He forced himself to come down from the panic, slowly willing himself back into a normal state of mind. He was just about back to being calm when Raven materialized through the door.
"I felt that all the way across the city. You alright?"
"Not at all. Black Mask is back. He made Scarecrow kill himself, and killed the Penguin."
"We're ready for him this time, Simon. And don't you dare tell me not to call you that anymore. You're not right right now.