Blüdhaven
March 31, 2016 - Team Year 6 (Bart's Timeline) 06:55 EST
The door to Dick Grayson's safehouse in Blüdhaven hissed open with barely a sound. Artemis Crock didn't bother to announce herself; she knew the warehouse would be empty, save for one person.
M'gann was... somewhere. She had said she wanted to be alone. Artemis couldn't imagine what she was going through. Her adopted brother had been kidnapped, and then killed trying to save a friend. She'd had to watch him die, unable to help. Artemis didn't know what she would do if she watched that happen to Wally.
She knew Connor wasn't here either. He'd taken to trying to help out the best he could in Metropolis while Superman was off world. They all figured by at least letting people see the big red "S", criminals would think twice before trying anything.
Artemis peered through the dimly lit interior, the only light coming from a large computer system pressed up against the far wall. In front of it sat the warehouse's only occupant. He didn't move except to reach out and press a button to rewind the recording of the broadcast that had played earlier.
"We come with open arms, extending our hands, our reach, if you will, to help." Dick Grayson made no indication that he'd heard Artemis enter, pressing his finger down to restart the recording again.
"Dick?" Artemis watched the muscles of the younger man's body tighten as he turned in his chair slowly. He was still wearing his Nightwing uniform, but his domino mask was off, laying discarded on the floor beside the chair. There were bags underneath his eyes, and maybe it was just the poor lighting, but Artemis could swear that the ever-youthful Dick Grayson looked years, if not decades, older.
"I didn't hear you come in." Dick's voice barely rose above a raspy whisper, and the effort to even speak seemed to drain his body of the little energy it had left.
"Killer Croc could have come blasting through your floor and you wouldn't have heard him." Artemis strode over to the computer screen, switching the recording off and sending the computer into standby mode. The room slipped even further toward total darkness.
"Dick, have you slept? Have you showered?" There was no answer. "Have you even eaten?" Concern laced Artemis' words, but Dick still sat staring straight ahead at where she'd been by the door.
"There's no cereal left." Under other circumstances, Artemis would have laughed. But this was bad. The team, more than ever, needed its leader. And this Dick Grayson was just as out of commission as Karen, or Garfield... or Barry.
"Let me go get you some. You need to eat."
"No." The word was barely uttered, but Dick's voice carried with it an unendurable pain. Artemis crouched herself down in front of him, picking his chin up in her hand, forcing Dick to look at her.
"Their deaths aren't your fault, Dick." It was cliché, to be sure, but old adages and trite phrasing was all she had to fall back on right now. Today the team had doubled their losses from the past five years.
"Of course they are, Artemis." Dick's voice continued to struggle. "My soldiers. My responsibility. My fault." Artemis searched for the words to continue. Her grey eyes traced over his blue ones, before dropping to his hands. For the first time, she noticed that he was absentmindedly running his fingers over a worn "R" patch held at his lap. Her stormy gaze widened as she placed her hands over his.
"Dick, look at me." His eyes didn't rise to meet hers. They just stared, lifeless, at the symbol in his hands. "Dick, look at me, damnit!" Her voice rose, cutting through the air and striking him like a lightning bolt. Artemis watched his body physically recoil at her cutting tone as his blue eyes finally rose to meet hers.
She lowered her voice. "This wasn't your fault either."
"It was supposed to have been me on that mission." His voice was so soft that Artemis wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. Dick's voice sounded like it was coming from an empty shell, as if whatever strength of the man it possessed had long since left.
"What?"
"Jason wasn't supposed to have even been on that mission." Dick's unkempt black hair fell over his face. His eyes seemed to be battling back tears. "But I'd been fighting with Bruce and said that I wasn't going to go, that he should just take Jason." A haggard breath followed as his entire body shook. "He wasn't ready for something like that... If I had just gone, Jason... he wouldn't be dead."
"Dick, you can't..." His head snapped up, cutting off her retort. There was a new fire in Dick's eyes, a flame fueled by pain and self-loathing.
"I can, and I do. All of them are, in one way or another, my fault." Dick began holding up fingers for each person, every name hitting Artemis like a hammer blow. "Jason. Tula. Now Karen and Garfield. And all I keep thinking is..." His voice failed for a moment. A hard swallow brought him back. "All I keep thinking is, who's next? Who's going to be the next person to die under my watch?" Dick's eyes were watery and red-rimmed as he looked down again.
"Is it going to be you, Artemis? Wally? Tim? Barbara? Who is it going to be?"
His question hung in the air for several long seconds as Artemis searched for the words. She couldn't lie, the thought had crossed her mind. Honestly, she thought it was going to be her, once she was undercover. Or Kaldur. But those answers weren't what Dick was looking for, weren't what he needed right now, and Artemis knew that. Her voice dropped in volume as she changed the subject.
"Dick, do you remember when the Reds attacked the cave?"
A hint of confusion slipped through the otherwise impenetrable hurt that saturated his voice. "What does that have anything to do with this?"
"Do you remember what you said to me?" Artemis watched his eyes cloud as he struggled to remember, worked to pull that near-death experience out from the collection of so many others.
"I..."
"I asked you how you could be so calm when everything seemed hopeless. You told me that it was because you'd been doing this since you were nine." She watched as the bare hint of a smile crossed his face. "That's when I knew. That's when I knew that, eventually, you would be the one leading this team." Artemis reached out her hands to put them over his again.
"And I knew that no matter what, I'd follow you anywhere, Dick. At fourteen, you knew what you were doing. You knew what you had signed up for." She moved a hand up to his chin, forcing him to look at her. "So does everyone else. And if you start trying to take the blame for their deaths, then it takes away from the heart and soul they put into their missions."
His eyes drilled into hers for long seconds before he looked away. "I can't do this right now. I have to be in Gotham." The thought seemed to surge some energy back into Dick's body, his arms flexing as he pressed down on his chair to rise.
Artemis put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down into his chair. "Not without getting any sleep you're not." He opened his mouth to protest, but a quick shake of her head cut him off. "Besides, the sun is out now. Batman doesn't do sunlight."
The name of his mentor seemed to sap energy from his body again. Dick Grayson slumped back down into his chair. He didn't move, though his eyes rose to meet hers again. "I don't want to have to be him."
Artemis knew that he wasn't talking about putting on the cape and cowl. Though he loved his adopted father, she knew that for years Dick had been working on becoming his own person. He was trying to escape Bruce's shadow.
The last few months had seen him become that shadow.
Artemis offered him a smile and a hand, letting him get up from the chair this time. "I know. Start by getting some sleep." She could practically feel the waves of exhaustion rolling off him as she led him to his bed. "There'll be cereal when you wake up."
XXXXX
Gotham City
April 1st, 2016 - Team Year 6 (Bart's Timeline) 21:20 EST
When viewed from above, especially at night, there was a beauty to Gotham City. Dick Grayson had always thought so. Up above the city streets, up above the crime, the filth, there was beauty. The twinkling lights of skyscrapers highlighted by the moon belied the creeping, infectious evil that lurked in the shadows they created.
The early spring breeze lashed against his exposed chin. Even though this costume, this façade of justice, was warmer than his normal outfit, Dick missed the feeling of that breeze in his hair. That hair was now uncomfortably plastered against his head underneath a smothering cowl.
A beep from his wrist computer prompted a withering glare. The alert blossomed to life before his eyes, illuminating the darkness atop Wayne Tower. A break-in at Holly's Jewelry Store, just a few blocks away.
A scowl that was the closest he could come to an impression of Bruce crossed his lips. Dick rose from his crouch, extending the cape behind him. It was the one part of this costume he didn't mind. The ability to fly, to glide through the air, reminded him of his younger days. But the cape also got in the way of his fighting style, which is why Dick didn't normally wear one. But if Batman suddenly showed up without a cape, people would start asking questions.
Launching himself off the steel monolith, Dick felt the wind race around him, filling the cape for his glide. Reaching the street of the break-in, he folded the fabric in around himself, plunging towards the street. Pushing the cape back open, Dick flew just above street level, and through the broken window in the storefront of Holly's.
The first thief never saw him coming. Still traveling at speed, Dick pulled himself up, landing his feet square in the middle of the man's back. The frightened yell of surprise that escaped the man's lips as he flew into a display case alerted his two companions, who both stopped smashing glass and grabbing jewels to face the new threat.
The closest thief raised his fist as he charged, dropping the bag of ill-gotten gains he'd been holding. Dick waited for him to close within range before ducking down, crouching into a practiced twirl, and connecting his foot with the back of the man's knee. The thief dropped without Dick ever raising a hand.
A loud click from behind him let Dick know the third remaining ner-do-well had decided that he wasn't even going to try hand-to-hand combat. As Dick whirled to dodge whatever shot was coming, he felt a tug on his cape, stopping his movement. The jagged glass from one of the display cases was embedded in the fabric, trapping him. Dick's eyes widened as he focused on the gun, and the thug's slowly tightening finger.
The weapon went off with a flash, the bullet striking just wide of Dick's shoulder.
The batarang thrown on instinct clattered to the floor behind the man, hitting the gun and altering the shot just enough. Before the man could react, Dick pulled the cape from the glass with a shout, grabbed the man by his jacket, and then threw him out through the shattered storefront into the street.
In a flash, Dick was on top of the thief, raining down blows against an ineffectual defense. There was a crack, then a shriek escaped the man's lips before his eyes rolled back into his head.
"Batman!" The frantic female voice brought Dick back. His eyes struggled to regain their focus, first on his own blood-covered gloves, then the slow up and down heave of the unconscious thief's chest.
"Batman…" Dick looked up into the concerned eyes of Zatanna Zatara as she landed on some magical construct. Before she could open her mouth to say something, he pulled the grappling gun from his belt.
"What are you doing here? This isn't your city." He fired the gun upward, feeling it tighten as it connected on a ledge, and let the line pull him straight up.
A brief expression of surprise crossed his face as his feet landed on the roof, as a pair of shapely legs already waiting for him. Dick had seen this stance before, legs slightly spread, hands placed on a slightly cocked hip. The meaning of this particular stance depended on the expression on her face. And the expression on Zatanna's face was fraught with worry.
"Dick..." A violent motion with his hand cut her off, before his fingers began tapping at his wrist computer again. A beep followed a few seconds later.
"Alfred, inform the GCPD that I did their job for them. Again. Three robbers at Holly's, all down."
"Right away, Master Di..." Dick cut off the transmission before Alfred could finish. Stalking to the edge of the roof and crouching over his city, Dick's body remained rigid. His blue eyes narrowed behind the cowl.
"What do you want, Zatanna?"
"A girl can't check up on her favorite superhero?" She kept her tone light, but when Zatanna put her hand on his shoulder, there was no give, no indication he even felt her touch. It was as if he was made of stone, like so many of the gargoyles that stood a watchful guard over Gotham.
"We're worried about you, Dick."
"So I've heard." The snapped reply made Zatanna physically recoil. This wasn't the Dick Grayson she knew, the Dick Grayson she'd dated. Something had changed. She rubbed her hands on her tights to warm them.
"Geeze, you could give Freeze a run for his money with that reply." The glib repartee didn't have it's desired effect. Instead of a half-hearted chuckle, which she was expecting, Dick suddenly stood and turned from his perch at the edge of the rooftop.
"Is this a game to you, Zatanna?" She didn't recognize that voice, that tone. Not from him.
"No, Dick, it's not a game." The magician took a step back, even though she didn't mean to. In the crisp Gotham air, the cold emanating from Grayson's glare outdid anything the wind could muster. She searched for the words. "But you don't seem to be thinking straight. You're blaming yourself, you're beating up on criminals."
"They deserve what they're getting." Dick's cape whipped around his body as he turned back towards the city. "And I should be blaming myself. I deserve what I'm feeling." For the first time, Zatanna saw his shoulders slump. "Karen and Garfield, those deaths are on me. So is Jason. They're all on me." Dick's head snapped back up as his posture hardened again.
"None of you know what I'm feeling. None of you has any right to tell me what to feel right now."
Zatanna bit her lip. He wasn't wrong. But this team needed him. The Justice League needed him. She needed him. He'd already pushed away Barbara. He'd already pushed away Artemis. She couldn't afford to let him push her away too.
"Boy Wonder..." If possible, Dick's back tightened even more at the mention of his old moniker. But Zatanna plunged ahead before he could cut her off. "When was the last time you laughed?"
"Don't... what?" Whatever biting reply he had been ready to throw her way like a batarang died on his lips. When he turned, for the first time that night she saw confusion in his eyes.
"You know it was your laugh that I was first attracted to, right? Your laugh, and that damn smile of yours." Zatanna slid a hand across the exposed part of his cheek. It was rough with stubble. She didn't mention it, but for the first time, the corner of Dick's mouth curled upward ever so slightly.
"And the way you would always make up words. That's the Dick Grayson I love. That's the Dick Grayson this team needs, that we all need." She paused for a half second, pulling her hand back. "So where is he?"
She could see his eyes searching for an answer. After a long moment, Dick blinked slowly. When his eyes opened, the cold was back.
"He's dead, Zee. He died when Jason did. Every death since then has just been piling dirt on his grave." Dick turned to leave, but a strong pair of hands grabbed his cowl, turning him back around. Before he could react, Zatanna pressed her lips to his. The feel of her lips was so soft, so familiar, and Dick allowed himself to sink into her embrace for just a moment. Then her warmth left his lips, replaced by the biting Gotham air.
"He's still around, Dick. I can feel him. But we need him back permanently." A beep in her in ear interrupted her. Dick watched a look of concern creep across her face.
"There's a situation at the Hall. I have to go."
"I'll come with you." For once, he sounded like the old Dick. Always ready and willing to help. But a beep on his wrist interrupted him. Zatanna could see it had something to do with Arkham. Under his breath, Dick swore and muttered something about a "never ending battle". When his eyes returned to hers, they were apologetic.
"Don't worry. You're needed here. I'm sure we can handle things at the Hall." After a solitary nod, Dick typed in a quick command on his wrist computer. Zatanna could already hear the Bat-plane screaming towards them.
"Dick?" Her next words were shouted to be heard over the roar of the plane's engines as it hovered next to the roof. "Don't be a stranger. We... I still need you." His lips curled into a grim smile before he ran and jumped in the plane, streaking off towards the other end of the city.
XXXXX
Washington, D.C.
April 1st, 2016 - Team Year 6 (Bart's Timeline) 21:37 EST
"This is not going well!" That's the damn understatement of the evening. Connor ducked at Captain Marvel was flung over his head and slammed into a far wall. A hulking purple alien, the shiny gold annoyance had called it Despero, followed, showering Earth's Mightiest Mortal with hammer blow after hammer blow. The alien was really looking to test that "mortal" label, wasn't it?
Connor leapt forward, grabbing the being's arm as it pulled back. "Have you Earthlings no concept of honorable single combat?" Shiny was at it again. Connor didn't remember the thing's name, and right now he didn't care. Cap slammed his fists into Despero's other hand, freeing himself. Pushing himself off the wall, he yanked the alien's other arm back.
"M'gann, now!" Connor whipped his head around as he shouted, just in time to see the golden Superman statue that stood in the main hall come flying at them. That's oddly appropriate, he thought. At the last second, both Connor and Captain Marvel pushed themselves away from Despero.
The statue crashed into the alien before flying into the wall. Connor rolled up to one knee in time to watch the statue continue breaking apart. Even before the dust settled, he knew it couldn't be that easy.
And it wasn't. Rising like some demon out of hell, Despero tilted its head to the side and rolled its shoulders, lips curling into a snarl. Connor's legs coiled, leaping at the purple beast with all his strength, trying to catch it off guard. But a meaty hand wrapped around his face before a fist could connect, and suddenly Connor was flying again, this time coming to a stop after crashing through display cases for heroes who protected Earth before the Justice League formed.
"Ideas would be awesome right about now." Groaning as he pushed himself to his feet, Connor watched M'gann's eyes glow green again, and suddenly Despero was lifted off the ground and into the air. In a Riddler-like color clash, purple grabbed a discarded chunk of Superman statue and threw it at green, his former girlfriend. Despero came crashing back to the ground as M'gann maneuvered out of the way of the chunk.
Moving with a surprising speed for his bulk, Captain Marvel shot forward, grabbing the big alien around the throat in a headlock, swinging onto its back. What he was about to do hit Connor just before the words left his mouth.
"Cap, don't -"
"SHAZAM!" Connor shielded his eyes as lightning filled the room. When the light faded, only steam rose slowly from Despero's chest, as a 15 year old Billy Batson hung on his back.
"Oh man, I really thought that would work." Despero grabbed Billy's shirt, hauling him over his shoulder and holding him out at arm's length.
"Flagrant foulism! My master has no interest in fighting a -"
"Heads up, Goldenrod!" Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw a hunk of what he could only assume was a piece of shattered statue fly through the air towards Despero's shiny companion. Mal had a manic look on his face as his eyes, still streaked with red from the tears that had been nearly constant since Karen's death, tracked the projectile. The metal annoyance saw it as well, ducking at the last moment.
Which caused the chunk to hit Despero square in the back of the head. The hulking purple alien turned, dropping Billy to the ground, and picked up a chuck of statue half the size of the boy to throw back.
Mal dodged this first piece and landed in a crouch, hand down between splayed legs. But the big man never had a chance to move before a chunk of Superman's face, easily the size of Despero himself, smashed into him. Connor only saw Mal's hand twitch once, then lay still.
"Murderer!" M'gann's shout, easily filling the room, shocked Connor out of his stupor. The Martian rose into the air, her eyes glowing a fierce emerald, teeth bared as she glared at Despero. The purple giant met her stare, and a third eye on its forehead began to open. Then the invader reared back, grabbing its head, a primal yell coursing from its lips. And Connor watched Despero fall, drool slowly leaking from his mouth.
"Master?" Shiny hovered over the unmoving purple alien, concern heightening in its voice. "Master, what have they done to you?" M'gann and Connor both ran over to the hunk of statue trapping Mal, but before she could try and lift it, Connor put a hand on her shoulder. There was no heartbeat.
"Cheaters!" Shiny turned back towards M'gann and Connor, its eyes now glowing red. "Sneaks! FRAUDS!" A multitude of arms suddenly appeared from the droid's body, most of them looking suspiciously like weapons. "You all shall suffer for your crimes!"
Connor moved to shield M'gann with his body when he heard another voice. "Let's try this again!" He suddenly saw Billy Batson leap up, grabbing one of Shiny's new appendages. "SHAZAM!"
Lightning once again filled the room, and when the light faded, only scattered gold bits lay sprinkled across the floor, Captain Marvel standing in their midst.
"Poor sportism! Poor sportism! Poor sport..." As the disembodied voice of the droid started to fail, its head, the only remaining recognizable piece, began to glow.
"Uh oh..." Connor saw Captain Marvel fly towards them. There was a flash, and then darkness.
XXXXX
The Watchtower
April 2nd, 2016 - Team Year 6 (Bart's Timeline) 12:16 UTC
The new memorial on the Watchtower was gorgeous. Much closer to a park than the grotto that had been placed in the Cave, trees and gently rolling hills replaced the dark and damp surroundings of the previous memorial ground. Five statues already stood on the grassy knolls. Barry Allen dressed as Flash, Nathaniel Adams as Captain Atom, and Ted Kord dressed as Blue Beatle stood side by side. A little ways away, holographic memorials to Jason Todd and Tula also looked out over the park. It was near these memorials that three more statue bases had been set up. It was also where the surviving members of the Team and the available members of the League had gathered.
The eulogies for Mal, Karen, and Garfield had been heartfelt but brief. There wasn't much to say out loud that those in attendance didn't already know. They didn't need to expound on Garfield's enthusiasm, on Karen's genius, or Mal's unyielding love for her and calm demeanor as the Team's controller. This wasn't a public spectacle, like Barry's funeral. These three had been members of a mostly secret team of heroes, and had died in private instances, not in public like the Flash. Garfield and Karen had died aboard the Reach ship and, despite the destruction of the Hall, the public didn't know that Mal Duncan had perished there.
M'gann had made it through her eulogy for her adopted brother... barely. La'gaan was still recovering in Atlantis, and Connor seemed to be ever present, but kept his distance, to comfort her if necessary. Captain Marvel stood near them, also looking no worse for wear after the battle with Despero a day ago.
Dick Grayson took a long look through the panoramic window to space outside. Earth filled half the view, distant stars twinkling dominated the other half. Somewhere out there, Batman was standing trial along with other members of the League. Dick only hoped he'd be home soon.
The destruction of the Hall had led to the intervention of the Reach ambassador. After removing Despero's force field, he had informed U.N. Secretary General Tseng of the Watchtower. Looking out over Earth now, Dick wondered how many telescopes, both amateur and government, were now pointed in their direction. He also wondered if any of those telescopes could see this private ceremony.
The holographic memorials were switched on. Somehow, they always managed to capture the subject's most enduring expression. Garfield's smile, the intelligence in Karen's eyes, Mal's steely resolve. But there were subtle features as well. When viewed from an angle, for instance, it almost appeared as if Mal and Karen's statues were holding hands, together forever.
As the crowds began to disperse, Dick found himself drifting over to where Black Canary was standing. The two of them waited until both the Team and the League had dissipated more before beginning to speak, their voices low.
"How are you holding up, Nightwing?" Dinah's piercing blue eyes were filled with concern.
Dick fought to keep all emotion out of his voice. "I'll be fine. Where do we stand?" Canary shrugged.
"Earth now knows about the Watchtower. The Reach completely outmaneuvered us without firing a shot. They even took Despero. And we have no idea how the trial for the other League members is going because if we go and check, we'll be arrested as criminals as well." She rubbed a hand over her neck, turning back to look at Dick. "But I do have some other news."
"I can't necessarily classify it as better, but it gets us closer to some answers at least. I interviewed the kids you rescued off the Reach ship. None of them know what the Reach wanted with Jaime, unfortunately. But they all described similar experiments. The Reach are kidnapping kids with powers already, or kidnapping those who they believe can develop them."
"Develop them? As in, new heroes?" A tone of incredulousness rose in Dick's voice.
"Precisely. It seems the "meta-gene" that the Reach are looking for is what allows certain humans to develop new genetic abilities when exposed to trauma. I'd guess the Reach want to cultivate this gene in humans, and find a way to weaponize it."
"And the Light got them to come here by using the League to shine a giant galactic spotlight on Earth. Perfect." Dick shook his head slowly, his eyes moving back out over the blackness of space.
"We'll continue to look into the Reach and what the Light's endgame is in all this." Dick looked back to watch the retreating forms of his teammates. "I only hope we figure it out before it's too late."