Chapter Thirteen
An Old Man
January sixth
So apparently when Nightwing had said that she was not going on any missions any time soon, he'd been pretty serious.
Morgan downed half a water bottle, her breath still uneven from the forty-five minute run she'd been on in the gym. She sighed, satisfied with a job well done, and stretched her muscles. Once she was done, her breathing was back to normal and her skin felt less sweaty and gross.
She stepped out of the gym and saw most of the other members of the Team, along with a few Leaguers, heading down the hall and towards the garage.
"Where are you guys going?" She asked, blushing slightly when everyone turned their heads to look at her. She imagined she looked very small standing there alone in her work out clothes, compared to their entire group of tall, costume clad heroes.
Nightwing broke from the group and the others continued down the hall, disappearing around a corner. "We're going on a mission. We found the remaining Kroloteans' hide out."
"Can I go?" She asked innocently and cringed when he closed his eyes in annoyance, his shoulders tensing up.
"No."
"Aw, come on!" She groaned. "Practically everyone else is going!"
"Which is why we don't need anyone else. This mission could get dangerous-"
"Oh, because the underground lair with the army of Kroloteans and a bomb wasn't?"
"That was a mistake." Nightwing retaliated, infuriatingly calmly. "You should not have been allowed to go on that mission."
"Yeah, but I went, and guess what?" Morgan replied fiercely, "I got out alright! I managed to use my powers to successfully beat up a bunch of aliens and then help the others get the hostages out, and I didn't get hurt! I did well! You just won't admit that because you're so paranoid!"
"You are not going on this mission or any other mission until I say so!" Nightwing exploded. Morgan jumped a step back, taken aback by the loudness of his voice. He never yelled at her. He always spoke in that controlled Spock-like way of his, using logic rather than anger. "I am your mentor, and as such, I make the calls! And you are not ready. The fact that you keep fighting me so much over this just further proves that you are too immature and unprepared to go on any missions yet!"
Morgan didn't respond, still too taken aback to think of any clever comebacks. Nightwing was halfway making to follow the other heroes down the hall when he paused.
Her mentor, standing with his side to her, sighed and seemed to reel in his anger. He stood stiffly, his hands clenched by his sides, his jaw tense. "If you really feel so strongly about this, go visit the lowest level of the Cave. The grotto"
And then he left.
Morgan looked after him, watching as his long legs led him down the hall and around the corner in only a few strides, his back ramrod straight and his shoulder tense with anger.
She had no idea what was in the lowest level of the Cave, but the way he'd said it made her feel a chill up and down her back and she got the feeling she didn't really want to know what was down there.
Normally, she'd go and watch the other heroes take off, but she didn't this time. There were too many Leaguers there to make her feel comfortable, and she got the feeling a lot of the superheroes had heard her and Nightwing's argument, which embarrassed her.
Instead, she shook her head and walked to her room. Morgan didn't bother to change out of her training clothes. She'd be going to bed soon enough anyway. Thanks so someone she had school tomorrow.
After tying her hair into a pony tail – it was more of a giant fluff-ball at the back of her head, really – she sat down on her bed and crossed her arms over her chest with a small scowl on her face, determined to not go down to the lowest level of the Cave. The desire to spite Nightwing was an almost constant with her and it was all the more potent now that she was angry with him.
And yet..
Curiosity nibbled at her resolve.
She shook her head stubbornly and wrapped her arms tighter around each other.
A few minutes later, she sighed loudly and deflated, reaching a hand up to rub her eye tiredly with her palm. "Damn you."
Morgan sat up further on her bed, planting her feet on the floor, and sighed again. Placing her hands on the bed, she hesitated for a moment before pushing herself up.
The winged girl made her way to the lowest part of the Cave, as slowly as possible in hopes of somehow conquering her curiosity before she got there and then turn back around. The Cave was eerily quiet and empty. With most team members on this new very, very dangerous mission and the other members at their own homes, Morgan was quite alone. The halls seemed longer and darker somehow, less friendly.
It was all in her head, obviously, but she still couldn't shake that uneasiness.
With a start, as she rounded a corner and found the door to the stair case that lead down to the grotto, Morgan realized that the uneasiness stemmed from a strange sense of foreboding. She didn't know what she'd find down there, but whatever it was, it made her nervous.
Morgan had never been there before, but she knew her way easily around the Cave by now, so she had found it relatively fast.
And now she stood in front of the door, looking at it. She knew that she had to go down there, so, shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she grasped the handle and pulled the door open.
The tight feeling in her chest grew, but she told herself that she was being stupid. Nightwing had advised her to go, so there couldn't be anything dangerous down here. She had no reason to worry.
As she slowly stepped down the stairs, she got a gradually better view of the place. It was, indeed, an actual grotto with an underground lake. The lake made the air cold and clammy. The walls were rough and looked like they had been formed naturally and not been made by the heroes, unlike the rest of the Cave.
The grotto was dark, only illuminated by what Morgan saw was three holographic statues of superheroes she didn't recognize. Frowning, she stepped closer, her brain whirring with thought process, wondering why Nightwing would send her down here.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she realized that, whatever she'd been afraid was down here, this was much, much worse. They were memorials.
There were three statues in the grotto. One was of a grown man, clad in a blue suit that looked like an outdated version of Blue Beetle's. There was a red-headed girl in a blue skirt and yellow tank-top that stopped right under her chest, showing off her stomach.
Morgan stood with her back to the last one, the one she'd been ignoring since the first time she accidentally set her eyes on it.
Eventually, she forced herself to turn around and face it.
It was a Robin, the red, yellow and black suit with the small 'R' on the chest unmistakable. His mask looked like Nightwing and Robin's only less pointy, his hair the same midnight black. Morgan silently wondered with he had the same eyes as Nightwing too.
She felt another pang of sympathy towards her usually unsympathetic mentor. It was the same rush of sympathy as when she'd found out that he was an orphan. As she looked at the blue-tinted holographic statue, she got the feeling that Nightwing hadn't just lost a team-member with this Robin, but also a friend, maybe even brother figure.
She understood now why he'd had sent her down here.
Some part of her, the part that remembered being a little excited girl hearing about the fabled Batman on the news, had childishly thought that none of the heroes ever died. It was a stupid notion, of course, and she knew this, but she'd always imagined that, no matter the situation, they always managed to find a way out. She thought they were invincible, and surely she'd be invincible too, now that she was part of the Team?
It was that part of her that urged her to keep bugging Nightwing about missions, because why should she be worried when none of them ever died? Why was he so worried when, obviously, she'd be fine at the end of the day? After all, the heroes always won – the ending was always happy.
Morgan now knew just how wrong she was.
They weren't invincible and powerful gods, they were teenagers. They were living, breathing beings, and as such, they could bleed. They could be killed.
Morgan understood that he wasn't forcing her to stay because he wanted to annoy her or hold her back. He was doing it to make sure she didn't die like these three had.
The reality of the statues, and her situation suddenly dawned on her. A shudder ran through her and Morgan suddenly felt like the underground grotto was crushing her, the air suffocating.
Finding a sudden burst of energy, she bolted up the stairs and slammed the door behind her. Her breathing was ragged and she leaned against the door in relief, her head hitting the steel roughly with a wince. As she opened her eyes and looked down the hall, it felt even creepier than when she'd been walking down it to get to the grotto.
Morgan didn't believe in ghosts, but she believed in them just a little bit more than usual at that moment.
Breathing in deeply, she pushed herself off the door and, head held high, marched down the hall, thinking that if she pretended to be brave, she'd start to feel brave.
She hid herself away in her room, skipping dinner even though she still was under orders from Batman and Nightwing to not to.
The Bioship was thick with silence as Nightwing, Batman, Batgirl and Robin sat quietly at their respective stations. In the back, Lagoon Boy and Aquaman stood, carrying a whispered conversation between them in a language Nightwing didn't understand. Batman was obviously waiting with the briefing until they got closer to their destination.
Nightwing figured this would be just as good a time as any to spring the news on him. At least here, with the two Atlanteans in the back, Nightwing could be sure that the talk wouldn't escalate into a fight.
"So, today was Morgan's first day of school." He began conversationally, not missing how the three bats – well, technically two bats and one bird – automatically tensed up as he broke the silence.
There was an uncertain silence as everyone waited for Batman to say something. He was obviously weighing his response, but eventually he said, in his usual monotone, "I trust it wasn't too unpleasant for her."
Nightwing shrugged and, glancing behind him briefly, he found Lagoon Boy and Aquaman still engrossed in their own conversation. Satisfied that they weren't paying attention, Nightwing leaned a fraction closer towards the others. "Oh yes, she already made a friend and everything. Apparently, she knew a certain Dick Grayson from somewhere else and had a chat with him."
Batman tensed up, and Nightwing could tell he was fighting the urge to turn around and meet Nightwing's steely gaze. Next to Batman, Robin's mouth opened in shock and his eyes grew in size as he turned and looked at Nightwing. Batgirl was fighting a small smile.
"She was really surprised to see him. Apparently she usually met him in a different environment." Nightwing went on, his conversational tone growing slightly tenser, a certain steel in his tone that he'd picked up from growing up with Bruce as a guardian.
"Well, perhaps she can get to know him even better now and perhaps even change their relation in a more positive direction."
Nightwing shot back in his seat in surprise at Batman's response, his brow tightening in confusion.
His cryptic words were easy enough to understand. Batman had suggested that Morgan's newfound knowledge of Nightwing's secret identity would help them get rid of the hostility between them and strengthen their strained relationship.
For a second, Nightwing actually contemplated whether Batman had given her that scholarship with this exact purpose in mind. He quickly dismissed the crazy thought, as he knew Batman would let the world crash and burn before he'd willingly let Nightwing – any of them for that matter – reveal their identities to anyone.
Well, maybe he wouldn't exactly let the world crash and burn, but he'd certainly need a far better excuse than for Nightwing's trainee to lessen her attitude.
No, Nightwing rather chalked it up to Batman trying to turn the unfortunate incident into something useful, now that it couldn't be changed. And also he was trying to make it look like this totally wasn't his entire fault.
"And maybe Dick will just have to invite her home to meet the entire family." Nightwing responded sharply – it was an empty threat of course, he'd never reveal the others' identities just to spite Batman – "Since anonymity is apparently not important to his guardian anymore."
Batman fixed him with a sideways glance, but other than that, he didn't show any outwards reaction to Nightwing's empty threat.
By now, Nightwing knew Batman well enough to know that the conversation was over, so, sitting up straighter in his seat, he focused on his flying instead.
Behind him, Aquaman and Lagoon Boy were still talking.
The alarm clock read past eleven when she heard footsteps in the hall outside her room. She been halfway asleep, so her heart jumped into her throat with surprise and slight fear, until she recognized M'Gann's voice, muffled behind the closed door. She realized that the Team must've been back. Pushing her biology textbook off of her lap, she slipped out of bed and headed for the closed bedroom door.
She'd attempted to stay awake by doing homework, but had somehow managed to doze off. Morgan didn't normally stay up late to wait for the others to get back, but her newfound extreme awareness of her – and their – mortality had made her uneasy and terrified that one of them wouldn't come back. The mission had to be dangerous when so many of them had went, with the added aid from the League.
So, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep unless she heard from someone that everyone was okay, Morgan grasped her door handle and opened the door, stepping into the corridor. There weren't anyone there, but there was light around the corner, and lowered voices.
Morgan walked into the kitchen and found M'gann, Connor, Robin, Batgirl and Nightwing. They were talking seriously, their brows furrowed and bodies tense.
"Guys?" Morgan asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes against the too bright, fluorescent kitchen-light after the darkness of the hall and her room. "Is everything alright?" She silently prayed that nobody was hurt, and that the serious atmosphere was just because everyone was a bit high-strung after the mission.
The conversation stopped and the five superheroes turned their heads to regard her.
Under their gazes, Morgan was suddenly aware that she was dressed in blue pajama pants that were too large for her and covered her feet, and a spaghetti-strapped white top that stopped about an inch above where her pants started. Her hair was a mess after the way she'd roamed around in her bed all night, her wings were ruffled too, and she wasn't wearing any make-up.
"Morgan," M'gann spoke first, her voice layered with a cheeriness that didn't match the serious tone she'd used a moment before. "Why are you still up?"
Morgan wiggled her bare toes against the cold kitchen floor and clasped her hands loosely behind her back. "I couldn't sleep. I was worried."
Nightwing's eyes widened a fraction. It was almost unnoticeable, but Morgan caught it and she knew he understood that she'd been to the grotto.
Sometimes, it was almost scary how well he could read people.
She cleared her throat and stood up straighter. "I mean, it was a pretty big team, with the help of several Leaguers, so I assumed it was a dangerous mission. I wanted to stay up to find out sooner how everything went." Morgan explained, knowing that her earlier explanation had sounded a bit too weak and chummy. She didn't want to appear weak or too attached. "So, how did it go?"
"Everyone is okay." Nightwing spoke up. The others had waited for him to speak because, since he was her mentor, they apparently figured he was the one responsible for giving Morgan information. Morgan rolled her eyes. This meant that they wouldn't tell her more than Nightwing did, and he always told her as little as possible. "That's all you need to know right now. You should go to bed. You have school tomorrow."
Morgan frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her hip out to the side. "So do you." She pointed out smugly. She quite enjoyed that she had something on him now.
Nightwing's frown deepened a tad, but other than that he didn't have much of a reaction. "I'll explain everything tomorrow." He promised. "But only if you go to bed now."
She sighed and dropped her arms to her sides, her left hand coming up to run through her curls. Untangling the hand and wondering why she even bothered trying to run a hand through her blonde mane when she knew it would just get stuck, Morgan shifted on her feet but turned slightly towards the doorway from which she'd come. "Okay, fine, dad. But you have to explain everything." She warned and turned around fully, marching back down the hall.
The remaining young heroes waited until they heard Morgan's bedroom door close behind her before they spoke again.
"You guys seem to be getting along better." M'gann pointed out. Connor looked away from M'gann and fixed Nightwing with his usual serious look. Nightwing shrugged. "We found we had something in common." He explained vaguely, wanting to move on from the topic as soon as possible so they could finish their discussion about their earlier mission and the intel M'gann had gained.
Robin and Batgirl shared a small knowing smirk before Robin turned back to Nightwing. "And what was that you had in common?" he asked, an unrealistic amount of irritating smugness in just that small sentence.
"None of your business." Nightwing quickly and tensely replied.
M'gann stepped up and placed a calming hand on his shoulders. "Nightwing and Morgan's relationship is none of our business." She interjected calmly. Nightwing rued her choice of words when Robin and Batgirl snickered and shared another look.
"Can we get this over with?" Connor spoke up, his voice tired, and Nightwing could have kissed him for the change of subject. "I want to get home and check up on Superman."
They thankfully appeared to drop the increasingly awkward subject. They finished their discussion a moment later.
He waited until he was sure everyone was gone before silently walking down the dark corridor until he reached Morgan's door. As he approached, he eyed the hole in the wall opposite the door, a hole he now knew was made by Morgan.
Nightwing knocked on her door quietly, knowing that she was still awake.
A moment later, the door opened and Morgan peeked out. Seeing it was him, she opened the door further to let him in.
From the silence and the tense line of her shoulders, Nightwing could tell she was annoyed with him. After more than a month of being her mentor, he'd learned to pick up on those sorts of signs, mainly because she always seemed to be annoyed with him. She allowed him to enter and shut the door behind him as she crossed her arms and started pacing slightly.
She looked at him eventually, her brow drawn in a serious line. "What the hell?" She asked incredulously.
Nightwing simply stared, waiting patiently for her to elaborate.
She started pacing again, and her wings fluttered in annoyance. She stopped and looked at him again. "You can't just spring that kind of shit on people without any warning first!" She accused, and Nightwing figured she was talking about the memorials in the grotto. Just thinking about them made his heart clench a certain way himself.
"I figured they'd make an impression." He admitted. He closed his mouth and wet his bottom lip. "An impression you sorely needed."
Morgan spluttered in indignation and then paused, tiredly covering her eyes with a hand. "An impression I-?" She sighed and stood up straight, taking in a deep breath through her nose as she seemed to reel in her anger. "I'm going to bed. And you're going to leave. I'll see you tomorrow."
Nightwing inclined his head. "I'll see you after dinner." He agreed cooly, letting her know he wouldn't be there for their usual afternoon training. Usually, he wouldn't slack like that, but Nightwing was too tired, weary to the bone, and he knew he needed the extra few hours of sleep. Besides, he didn't have any tomorrow, and he wanted to exploit the opportunity to sleep in late.
Morgan nodded and Nightwing left her room soon afterwards.
Her reaction irked him, but if Nightwing was good at one thing, it was keeping on a cool mask. He understood that the memorials must've been an unpleasant surprise, but he had hoped that her reaction would've been less hostile towards him and instead more understanding of his actions when it came to her protection.
As he approached the main room, Nightwing reminded himself that Morgan was an enigma that he had yet to understand.
He punched in the code for the Zeta tube closest to his own apartment and stepped through, disappearing with a flash of yellow light.
Once he arrived on the other side, he stood in a small underground room, the echo of the robotic female voice announcing his arrival still in the room. This was one of the least visited secret 'lairs' of the League, usually only used by him. He slipped out of the suit and into a pair of jeans, a hoodie and a cap, stuffing his costume into a sports bag.
Stepping out of the secret room, he closed the door – which was disguised as a telephone booth – he hefted the bag further up his shoulder with a small shrug, and breathed in the night air before beginning the trek home. He was only a few minutes away, so he walked slowly to enjoy the quiet night.
These quiet moments were too few and far in between, he noted with a tone of regret when he arrived at his door, digging out his key.
January 7th
Morgan groaned loudly, smacking her head theatrically against the mahogany table beneath her. Next to her, Esmeralda sported a confused look and Rachel snickered.
The table was surprisingly sturdy and Morgan sat up, rubbing away the pain in her forehead. "Ow."
Rachel laughed louder.
Leveling a glare at Esmeralda, Morgan said, "What do you mean the school's 'winter ball' is in two weeks' time?"
They were sitting in the 'canteen', though it looked more like the restaurant at some five star hotel. The floor was covered in a soft, red rug; the tables were all made from expensive dark mahogany, the chairs plush and big. Small islands of huge, fluffy couches and coffee tables were spread around the edges of the enormous, cozily lit room.
Morgan had quickly learned that, for a small extra price, you could order a specific dish the day before and then the next day they'd have it done at the exact second you'd requested. If you were more 'common' you could just choose something from the extremely vast selection of food the kitchen offered each day.
Esmeralda, eager to explain anything to the confused new girl, launched into the story. "Well, it's true that those sorts of things are usually held during Christmas, but here at G U, it's held later, in the middle of January. Everyone knows that it's totally an excuse for the principal to have some kind of celebration on her birthday."
Rachel nodded and took over. "The students usually come together to raise money for a gift during December, which we then present to her at the ball." Her mouth drew into an unimpressed line and she tugged on one of her dread locks. "This year people were kinda cheap. She's only getting a Ferrari."
Morgan spluttered in disbelief. "Only a Ferrari?" She bit out.
"Yeah," Esmeralda sighed sympathetically. "Compared to the beach house she got last year, that'll be a real letdown."
Morgan turned her head so her eyes were hidden behind her hair before rolling them. The longer she stayed at this school, the more outraged she got at the view they had on money. These spoiled, rich kids threw it around like they had oceans of it, and the worst part was that they did have oceans of it. It was money their parents' had earned, and now this generation was using it without respecting it at all.
Morgan had had to watch her mother accept every single extra shift she could at work, had to watch her slowly lose most of her friends because she didn't have time for them, had to see the way her mother's shoulders sagged in exhaustion whenever she thought Morgan wasn't watching, all because she needed to provide her small family with enough money to get by.
Morgan had had to spend several Christmases alone because her mother was working, had to smile gratefully at the minimum of gifts she would get, had to pretend that she'd forgotten her own birthday so her mother wouldn't feel bad for having forgotten too because she was too busy making sure they were fed.
And these people got their principal a Ferrari for her birthday.
Morgan sat silently and watched as a girl shouted at the chef because something on her plate had been cut in squares instead of triangles, and she felt her heart harden against these people.
"Excuse me." Morgan stood up, pulling her shoulder bag with her, feeling like she'd hit someone if she didn't leave now. "Gotta use the bathroom."
There was a rage boiling like lava in her stomach as she practically ran from the lavish room. She bumped into several people but she didn't register who, nor did she apologize. The ringing in her ears prevented her from hearing any of the angry words they directed at her as she swept by. Once Morgan left the cafeteria, she started running. She ran to get that itch out of her limbs, ran to get the burning sensation out of her throat and stomach. Ran to escape the school.
She wanted her mom. She wanted to go home.
It was snowing outside when she pushed the huge oaken doors apart, stumbling outside. Her breathing was broken and irregular as she kept running, slipping on the slick snow once or twice. She ran down the sidewalk and slipped into a small alley right next to the University.
As soon as she turned the corner and found herself in the small alley, she immediately wanted to get out again. An old man sat, shivering in the cold, against the wall as he tried to shield himself from the snow. Next to him lay an old Labrador, which he occasionally petted. He had looked up when Morgan skidded around the corner, but now his eyes were downcast again.
He was homeless. It was as plain as day.
Right next to that huge building filled with people that all had several houses each, sat a lonely, old man with nothing, and Morgan felt her heart clench at the injustice of it.
she paused before she approached him. "This seat taken?" She asked, pointing at the wall next to him.
He looked at her with a pair of sharp, intelligent, brown eyes before he shook his head.
Morgan leaned against the wall and slid down it until her butt touched the cold ground. She shivered in her school uniform. The black skirt, flimsy white shirt and knee-length socks didn't do much to keep the cold out.
Morgan looked at the old Labrador who met her gaze with sad, brown eyes. "Can I pet him?"
"Go ahead." The old man replied with a gravely and used voice.
Morgan reached forward and stroked the dog's head and down its back.
There was a pause between the two of them as Morgan kept petting the dog.
"What's a girl like you doing outside in weather like this, if ya don't mind my asking?" The old man asked, eyeing her school uniform. He could see she was from Gotham University because of the crest embroidered onto the breast pocket of her shirt.
Morgan shrugged and leaned her head against the wall, shivering when snowflakes hit her face. "I couldn't spend another second surrounded by those snobbish, wealthy people."
The old man dug into the front pocket on his dirty shirt and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and stuck it between his teeth before offering Morgan. She declined, though she was touched by the fact that he was offering her something. She could see the confusion on his face at her earlier statement, hidden behind his grey beard and deep wrinkles.
"I got in on a scholarship. Don't really own a penny other than those I get in charity." She elaborated, thinking of the credit card Nightwing had given her. "They're horrible. All of them. I hate that school."
"Then why don't you leave?"
Moran shrugged again, smiling ruefully. "When you're lucky enough to get enrolled in a place like that, you don't question it. And my.. guardians says I have to go. I don't have much of a choice."
The old man nodded and took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing smoke out through his nose. "Sorry to hear that. Don't sound easy."
Morgan snorted out a chuckle at the absolute irony of him pitying her. She scratched the old dog behind its ear and its tail wagged happily with the attention she was giving it. "Can you tell me what time it is?"
The old man rolled his sleeve up to reveal an old and scratched watch. "Quarter past twelve."
Morgan groaned. "I have to get to class." A gust of icy wind blew through the alley and Morgan shivered violently, wrapping her arms around herself.
She stood up after giving the dog one last pet. "Thanks.. for listening."
The old man shrugged and pulled the butt of the cigarette out of his mouth, snuffing it out in the snow. "Anytime, doll."
Opening her backpack, Morgan pulled out the black sweatshirt that had come with the school uniform. She emptied all of her pockets for spare change and fished out an apple and a sandwich and gave the old man all the items.
She wouldn't miss the sweatshirt. She could always order a new one.
Without another word, she took a deep breath and walked the short way back to the school.
Look at all of that character development.
Hey guys! So I realize that last chapter created some confusion due to their age not matching their year in school.
I'm just a stupid dane who doesn't know anything about the American school system.
I did do some research before writing anything, though, and that research told me that you usuall start college when you're 17-18 years old. Morgan is eighteen, so her being a first year at the university/college, is, I hope, perfectly logical. I figured that, since Dick is seven months older than Morgan, he'd be a year ahead of her, making him a second year student at the University/College thing.
I hope all of the websites I've gain my knowledge from weren't all horribly wrong and that this doesn't make me look like a total ass. If I've still got some details wrong, please tell me so that I can change them!
On a completely different note, I can't believe this story already has over a hundred reviews! You guys are awesome!
Fun fact: Both of Morgan's parents are pretty tall. They're both very confused as to how they'd managed to spawn such a short human.