-Bludhaven Harbor-
The body had just appeared from out of the depths of the water. To the casual observer, nothing could be gleaned, except that it was in bad shape. There were multiple cuts and bruises; blood stained the tattered, black suit. The man's medium length hair was a moppy mess, and a half-ripped domino mask barely clung to his face. Life was unobservable form a distance- was the man alive?
Wishing to answer the question, a large grey speedboat quickly arrived on scene and picked up the body. A group of about fifteen strong men and women fished the body out of the harbor, and, with a thud, dropped it into the boat. However, instead of turning back towards the city to get help, they drove further out into the harbor- away from prying eyes.
There was, of course, good reason for this: no one could see them. It wasn't their time yet to be seen. The assembled group of men and women wore black, lightly armored suits. They wore black masks with orange eyes, and had padding on their chests, shoulders, forearms, thighs, and shins. Wearing combat boots and leather gloves, they pulled out guns from their holsters around their waist.
Clouds quickly gathered as the speedboat moved further and further out into the harbor, and before long rain fell and thunder crashed, lightning dancing amongst the clouds of the night sky. Yet, the speedboat moved on, bolstered by the cover the rain would provide. As the lightning flashed, an insignia could briefly be seen on the shoulders of the group of men and women: a red Greek Alpha, within a red Greek Omega.
Once the speedboat was a comfortable distance away from the shore, one of the men ordered to another of their number, "Jackson, check his pulse."
The man named Jackson retorted, "What's the use? You saw what happened back there. Paragon had a lot of fun; there's no way Grayson's still alive."
The first man shot back, "I've seen what Grayson can do. I've seen what Grayson can survive. I don't know where he got his training, but he's not just any average guy. I don't know why Paragon doesn't take him more seriously- the city might hate him, but with what he's capable of, he could stop him. He could stop us. We need to make sure he's dead- and kill him if he somehow survived that. So check his pulse, Jackson."
Grumbling, Jackson moved from his place around the bodies assembled around the body, and bent down to place two fingers on the broken body's neck. He still believed in what he saw: there was no way that Bludhaven's boy vigilante could have survived the beating that Paragon handed to him a few hours before. How could anyone survive all that? Between the bruising fists, the cuts from the knives, and the fall, there was no way he could-
Jackson's eyes grew wide. He recoiled his fingers in shock. Then, he replaced them on the body's neck, searching for a pulse. And just like the first time, there it was again. Faint, but present. A pulse. Grayson's heart beat- Nightwing was still alive.
"He's not dead!" Jackson exclaimed in disgust, getting back to his feet. "This bastard survived that torture earlier AND the fall, and he's still alive. What kind of bullshit is this!?"
As Jackson walked away in disbelief, a third man asked the first, "Well Rick, what do we do now?"
Rick was silent for a few moments. Then, after looking at his handgun, answered, "Pretty obvious. We can't let Paragon be stopped. We've got to kill Grayson now."
The third man then objected, "But wait, Rick. You heard Paragon back there. He wants to test Nightwing. Shouldn't we keep him alive for Paragon's test?"
"It's a stupid test. There's no reason he should be kept alive. We should kill him now," Rick retorted.
"So you're just going to disobey Paragon then?" the third man questioned. "I remember what he did to Lisa and Jeff when they disobeyed him. I don't want that happening to me too, man."
"Paragon doesn't have to know. He won't find out."
"That's what Lisa and Jeff thought too!"
"Listen-"
As the two men continued to bicker amongst themselves- and as Jackson returned to the circle that was growing tighter around the two bickering men- a new figure emerged from the waters. He clung to the underside of the boat with his hands, before lifting himself onto the boat. He was dressed in a seemingly simple black wetsuit, with a mask that covered his face. Upon reaching the surface of the boat, he removed his mask, exposing his face to the elements. Wind and rain whipped his medium length black hair and five o'clock shadow. With stone cold confidence, he walked into view of the assembled members of the Republic of Tomorrow.
"I hear that you've recovered Dick Grayson's body," the man interjected into the continued bickering. As everyone's heads turned, the newcomer flashed a smile. "I'll be taking that body now."
Everyone raised their guns, aiming them squarely at the newcomer. Some aimed at his chest; others, the scar that slashed across his right eye; still others, that confident smile, as if he knew something that the others didn't know.
"Who are you? You're not wearing Republic armor- identify yourself!" Rick demanded.
"You're damn right I'm not wearing Republic armor, because I don't need it." As soon as he finished saying it, his black wetsuit morphed in appearance, turning at first a murky, indistinguishable mesh of textures. Soon, it clarified, becoming a mixture of grey and black, with lights running along the suit.
"Wh-what the hell!?" Jackson exclaimed in surprise.
"Who are you, and what do you want with Grayson?" Rick demanded once more.
"That's for me to know, and for you to never find out," the man responded, his face now grave. "Now hand over Dick Grayson, or I WILL kill you."
"It's fifteen on one, buddy!" the third man taunted, incredulous but still comfortable with the odds in their favor. "Who do you think you're-"
With blinding speed, the man leaped forward and grabbed Rick, putting him in a chokehold. Before anyone could even react, the man was choking the life out of Rick, using him as a shield while taking his handgun from him and now aiming it at his comrades.
"Still think I can't take you on?" the man threatened.
"Let him go!" Jackson ordered.
The man stared them all down. "If you say so," he answered. He tossed Rick to his side- but as he did so, fired his gun at the assembled crowd. Knowing that their helmets likely offered some protection against bullets, the man aimed where he knew they had no protection at all: their necks. With great speed and precision, the man emptied a bullet into each neck, and one by one the members of the Republic of Tomorrow fell to the floor, bleeding before they even knew what was occurring. By the time Rick himself fell to the floor from the man's toss, the others were either dead or dying.
With the group disposed of, the man checked the clip of the handgun, as well as the chamber. He found that there was only a single bullet left- just as much as he needed. With his face still grave, he walked up to Rick, who was still choking on the floor of the boat. "S-saving a f-fellow m-mask, huh? Fa-ancy yourrself s-some kind of h-hero, h-huh?" Rick gasped out, staring defiantly into the cold face.
"I'm no hero," the man responded, before shooting Rick in the neck, leaving him to bleed out. "Never was. Never will be."
Immediately following this, the man walked over to Dick Grayson's body. Bringing his left hand to the unconscious man's neck, he brought his right hand to his right ear, pressing a miniature button in his ear.
"It's me. I've confirmed that Dick Grayson is alive," the man reported.
"Good. Any trouble?" a voice asked from the other end of the line.
"None. Prepare the sub- I'm coming."
With his conversation having concluded, he removed his hand from his ear and hoisted Dick Grayson's body onto his shoulders. He moved to the speedboat's control section, depositing the body in an adjacent seat before taking the wheel himself. The man briefly looked over the controls, before operating the controls and revving the boat into gear. He quickly continued the boat on its path away from the shore, leaving Bludhaven behind him.
As the rain continued to whirl around them and the lightning continued to dance in the night sky, the mysterious man set his eyes forward, away from the shore disappearing into the distance. He didn't really care what happened to the bodies that he left on deck- if they were simply tossed around the ship or were thrown overboard in his haste. What was most important to him was that he got where he needed to be. That, and that he got there with Dick Grayson alive.
-Bludhaven, a week later-
A figure of red, yellow, and black leapt from rooftop to rooftop, his red cape billowing behind him. Running with frantic worry, Red Robin parkoured and zip lined his way across Bludhaven.
Shortly after Nightwing's signal went dark the previous week, Oracle had asked him to look for the missing Bird of Bludhaven, and confirm what exactly had happened to their comrade. Though at first he just thought that Dick had turned his signal off for one reason or another, he grew really worried really quickly, especially when Oracle could find no signs of Dick's body in any of the multiple feeds of Bludhaven after his signal went dark.
Red Robin began his investigation with where his signal was last reported: Dick's own apartment. Using his own detective skills, he could deduce that he was abducted from there by a group of men, but beyond that could find no other clues or hints as to the whereabouts of the masked vigilante. Deciding that more old-fashioned detective work might be more fruitful, he began hitting the streets to find some answers. Even that, however, was a tough sell.
Over the past week, Red Robin could find no answer as to the whereabouts of Nightwing. No one had seen him over the past week. And none of the criminals of Bludhaven could care less that Nightwing was gone- it was better for them anyway. Nor did the residents really care that he was missing either- most of them disliked the idea of a mask hanging around their city, as he learned when he decided to ask around in the daytime without his mask. Even Dick's landlady, whom he questioned that first day of investigation, wasn't particularly bothered by Dick's absence, citing it as common practice in Bludhaven (though he better show up soon if he didn't want to lose his loft to other potential tenants). In this city of crime, everyone was apathetic to the presence of some local mask, no matter what he did.
Undeterred, though slightly discouraged, Red Robin and Oracle picked up their activities with regards to searching for Nightwing. They busted local gang rings and staked out crime hot spots- which was everywhere. Eventually, Red Robin found a local gang punk walking by himself downtown, leaning against a wall next to an alley and smoking a cigarette.
Landing in the alley next to the punk, Red Robin said with a swagger, "Crazy times, huh?"
"What're you talking about?" the punk asked, not bothering to check for the source. Why'd he have to be bothered? He just wanted a smoke, man.
"You know. The Haven just used to be up for anyone's grabs. Suddenly some costumed freak shows up, and everyone's running scared?"
"I got you. But that freak ain't as mighty as we thought he was- he's been gone for a week, right?"
"Yeah. What's up with that, right?"
"Maybe it had something to do with that other weird guy."
"Other weird guy?" Red Robin asked, his voice almost betraying his curiosity.
"Yeah. I saw him a week ago with a bunch of other freaks- looked like they're that duo from Starling. Anyways, they're around this ice sculpture when some guy wearing a leather jacket starts shooting from his bike. Used two handguns, and had a red helmet on."
"A red helmet!?" Red Robin exclaimed.
"Yeah. Covered his whole face. He just shot and drove off. I haven't seen blue birdy since then."
Shocked by the new information, Red Robin quickly ascended to the rooftop. As soon as he had reached the top, he put a finger to the communicator in his ear. "Oracle, did you hear that?"
"Yeah, I did. That was most likely Jason," Oracle responded gravely.
"I didn't realize he was back in town… why didn't Dick warn us about him?" Red Robin mused.
"He most likely didn't get the chance. Or maybe he's beginning to take after Bruce."
"Whatever it is, the point is that Jason's back in town. Do you think he could have anything to do with this?"
"He could. I'll begin searching through the Bludhaven feeds for him- maybe we'll get lucky and find him pretty quickly."
Nodding even though he knew Oracle wouldn't see him, Red Robin switched gears and began leaping from rooftop to rooftop, hoping he would catch sight or get a glimpse of a clue that would lead him to Jason Todd. Fortunately for him, however, he didn't need to work as hard as he might've needed to; within a few minutes of cutting off their contact, Oracle contacted Red Robin once more.
"Found him on a bar security camera! He's drinking in the Red Hood. It's only a few blocks south of you. If you hurry, you might still be able to catch him!"
Smiling in appreciation, Red Robin headed there immediately. Landing on a rooftop across from the bar, he pressed a button on the side of his domino mask, switching it from normal mode to binocular mode, making use of the camera imprinted into the translucent lens covering. From this mode, he observed a figure wearing a leather jacket walk out of the bar and into the parking lot. Confirming that it was, indeed, Jason Todd, Tim Drake turned off the binocular mode and descended upon the parking lot, using his cape to help him glide to the ground.
Just as Jason began revving his bike's engine, Tim landed right in front of him. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Detective Drake!" Jason remarked with a smirk.
"If I had known you were in town, I'd have given you a welcoming party sooner," Tim stated coldly.
"No need for that, Timmy. You know me- I'm a simple guy, into doing simple things."
"Well then, maybe you can help me by giving me a simple answer: Where's Dick?"
Getting off of his bike, Jason walked up to Tim. "I don't know, Tim."
Suddenly getting very agitated, Tim grabbed Jason by the neck of his jacket. "I'm not in the mood for bullshit, Jason! You know something- you've got to!"
Responding angrily in kind, Jason flipped Tim over with a judo throw, forcing Tim to let go of his jacket and sprawling him on the ground. "I don't know what you think I know, but I'm telling you the truth: I don't know where Dick is."
"Lying piece of crap!" Tim retaliated, slamming his fist to the ground. He got up and charged at Jason, hoping to spear him with a tackle and bring him to the ground. Anticipating the move, Jason charged at Tim, bringing his hand to Tim's throat and stopping the young vigilante's momentum, before countering it with a ferocious choke slam that left Tim on the ground once more.
"This ain't like you, Tim," Jason spat. "I thought you were supposed to be the Robin most like the Bats' detective side? Calm, cool, rational? Sure, Dick was the athletic leader, and I got his anger, but I thought you were supposed to be the cool kid?"
"Don't patronize me, Jason," Tim said, wiping some dirt from his mouth. He stood up once more, this time taking a fighting stance.
"Look, do you really want to do this? Remember, I kicked your ass last time," Jason warned him, taking his own fighting stance.
"I've gotten better since last time," Tim shot back, before charging at Jason. He feigned a punch to instead go for a roundhouse kick to Jason's head, which the former Robin easily ducked. Tim threw two more punches to Jason's head- both of which he dodged easily- before attempting a reverse roundhouse. This time, Jason caught the kick at the apex of its arc, and used Tim's leg as a lever to slam the angry vigilante to the ground for the third time.
"You say you've gotten better, but you're still not like the Bats," Jason taunted. "Hell, Dick would probably be giving you some shit with the way you're fighting. It's pitiful- remember how Bruce always taught us to fight with a clear head? This is why you don't just angrily flail body parts at people."
His body began to ache. Tim could already imagine the bruises forming on his body. But Jason had to know something, and Tim would get it out of him. Spitting out a mouthful of saliva, Tim got back up once more, more determined than ever.
"I know you know something, Jason," Tim said defiantly. "You have to know something about where Dick is. You were there the last time anyone saw Dick."
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Are you talking about that business last week? That business with the weird shapeshifting guy?"
"Yes, that. I've got a guy who placed you there."
"Shit, Tim, your detective work's really gotten sloppy! Did 'your guy' happen to mention that there were other masks there with us?"
"Trust me Jason, I fully intend on paying Starling a visit if you don't give me any answers. But our brother's been missing for a week, and in our business, that's very worrying. So help me out- cut the crap and tell me what you know."
Jason stared down Tim, mask to mask, brother to brother. He could see the fear and the anger in his successor's eyes. But for a genius, the kid had a really thick skull.
"I am trying to help you, dumbass. I'm telling you the honest truth here: I have no idea where Dick is. The last time I saw him was the last time anyone saw him. Hell, the Starlings might've know better than me, since when I rode off on my bike, they were still with him."
Some part of him thought that Jason was telling the truth. Otherwise, would he really be giving all this information? Nevertheless, Tim needed to know that what Jason was saying was the whole truth. What he planned on doing next was a gamble- one that he wouldn't make if he were in the right state of mind- but right now he was growing more and more desperate, and it was a gamble that he had to take. Deciding he was done playing around, Tim reached into his utility belt and pulled out two batarangs, pressing a button to retract the non-lethal hard shell that hid the lethal blade within.
Seeing Tim's action, Jason responded in kind. Quick as lightning, he drew his two handguns from his waist, aiming both of them at Tim's head. "Are you sure you want to go there, Tim?" Jason threatened.
It was a gamble, but a gamble needed to be made. Tim began readying himself to throw and dodge the bullets that would come out of Jason's guns. He slowed his breath. His muscles tensed. He was ready-
"What the hell are you doing, Tim?" Barbara suddenly yelled, forcing Tim to stop. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but Jason's right- this isn't like you."
"He has to know something more, Barbara," Tim responded, still staring down Jason. "He was the last one to see Dick."
"Well, regardless of that, it doesn't really matter too much anymore. Dick's signal just went live again," Barbara informed him.
"What!?" Tim exclaimed, so shocked by the news that he lowered his batarangs.
"For the second time, Dick's signal just went live again. It's coming from Dick's own apartment. Give up on Jason now and investigate that immediately."
"Understood," Tim answered, pushing another button to retract the batarangs blades and inserting the discs into his utility belt.
"Good news, I take it?" Jason asked, returning his handguns to their holsters.
"Yeah- looks like Dick's shown up again," Tim said, taking out his grapple gun.
"When you see him, give him a message for me," Jason asked. "Tell our big brother that I'll see him soon."
Without answering Jason's request, Tim turned around and fired his grapple gun at the nearest building. He ascended quickly, and disappeared into the night sky. Annoyed, Jason made a noise at having being so rudely ignored, before getting back on his bike. Revving its engine once more, he himself rode off into the night.
-Bludhaven, Dick Grayson's loft-
Red Robin burst through the window that led into Dick Grayson's kitchen. He knew that it was Dick's preferred entry point as Nightwing anyway, so he figured he wouldn't mind. Besides that, when he was scouting out the loft, he found that there was only one heat signature, and it seemed to be lying down in the living room area.
Proceeding cautiously, Red Robin moved from the kitchen to the living room, and found Dick lying on the couch, hooked up to a bunch of monitors and an IV bag. He was completely out, dressed in only a loose pair of patient slacks, and had an oxygen mask strapped to his face. What was really worrying was the amount of stitches done on his body, which covered up the numerous amount of cuts that he had, seemingly, recently sustained, in addition to the large bruises still apparent on his body.
While Red Robin's gaze was transfixed on the injured man, a figure grabbed him from behind and put him in a chokehold so strong, he could barely struggle.
"Don't fight, just listen," the figure warned. "I'm not here to fight you."
"What do you want? What happened to him?" Tim asked.
"He can tell you himself. Just listen. Dick Grayson will need a team. The Republic of Tomorrow is rising, and even he can't deal with them alone. Dick Grayson will need a team," the figure cryptically warned. Having finished delivering his message, he pushed the restrained vigilante forward. However, just as Red Robin turned around to face his attacker, the figure had vanished.
"What the…?" Red Robin muttered. Forgetting about the mysterious figure for the moment, Red Robin focused his sights once more on Dick Grayson. He examined the equipment that he was strapped to, put two fingers to his neck to check his pulse and, with a smile, withdrew those fingers, instead putting them to the communicator to his ear.
"Oracle, it's me. I've confirmed Dick's presence in his apartment. He's in really bad shape, but he seems to be stable. At the very least, it's not worst case: Dick is alive."
A/N: Hey everyone! BKA37 here. Sorry I'm late with the second half of this season. I'm gonna do my best to upload regularly. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this episode. Please feel free to leave me your feedback for this episode! Until next time, I'm going to leave you with this question: Who do you think the mysterious figure is?