*Warning! There's bleeding and stuff in this chapter, so watch out if you're sensitive to that kinda thing*

Chapter Nineteen

Not as Planned

Morgan growled silently to herself as she clutched her bleeding arm.

This was not how her evening was supposed to go.

She'd only been out for maybe an hour and a half when it happened.

Her wings were not yet quite strong enough for her to stay in the air for too long at a time, so, despite not being on patrol with someone who was grounded like usual, she still went with the same method she'd learned from Nightwing. Travel from tall building to tall building, keeping her eyes peeled for any unsavory business going down in the streets below her.

It was sheer luck she was even close when she'd heard the woman scream. Her face whipped in the direction the cry had come from so fast she could feel something in her neck complain, though she hardly noticed it.

Immediately taking to the air, Morgan flew up high to spot where the shout had come from more easily. Having flown two buildings over, her grey eyes scanned the ground below her and she spotted a scene that she found startlingly familiar. A woman, probably in her early thirties, was being cornered by six men in a small alleyway.

Morgan found her mind's eye recalling four months ago when she'd found herself being similarly surrounded in a dark alley in Gotham as she swooped down and landed stealthily on the emergency staircase on the building that flanked the alleyway to the left. The woman looked terrified and Morgan was filled with urgency, wanting to help the woman out as soon as possible. Normally she'd take a small moment to study her opponents, gauge how much of a problem they'd be, but this time she threw caution to the wind and leapt off the metal railing she'd been perched on and landed between the woman and the six men, a stern glare on her face.

"Nobody's getting assaulted tonight." Her voice carried strongly across the small alley. "I'm giving you one fair warning: Leave her alone, go home, rethink your life choices, and I won't have to hurt you."

Now that she was facing down the men, Morgan felt her palms grow slightly sweaty with nerves. She hadn't studied them before, but now she had plenty of time to and she didn't like what she saw.

The men were obviously prepared for a night of trouble because several of them were armed with blunt objects. The rest compensated their lack of weapons with their bulky muscles and huge frames.

Morgan had never taken on this many men at once. The most she'd ever dealt with was the four men down at the docks in Blüdhaven, but back then Nightwing had had her back in case anything went wrong.

This time she was all alone. And instead of four men, there were six. And instead of being unarmed, these men were armed.

The group of a half a dozen men stared at the short girl in front of them, seemingly wondering what on earth she was talking about.

Morgan's heart started fluttering with fear in her chest when they laughed uproariously. This would've been much easier if their confidence had been weakened by fear. Now it was her confidence that was suffering.

"You're out of your league, kid." The one in front – the leader, she assumed – grunted, his voice rough and deep.

Morgan, figuring feigning confidence and fearlessness would only help her case, sniffed in disdain and crossed her arms in front of her. "You're the ones out of your league." She replied, sticking her nose haughtily in the air. "Don't you know who I am? I'm –"

"That new hero, Sparrow. We know." The leader spoke up again, crossing his huge, bulky, tattooed arms in front of his chest. "And so far, we're not impressed." The guys behind him laughed darkly and fingered their weapons. "It's gonna take a lot more than a single mention in the news for you to scare anyone, girl."

Morgan couldn't help but think how unfair it was that someone like Batman or Superman only had to show up and mention who they were, and the baddies started running, but Morgan, just because she was lesser known and less impressive in stature, had to prove her worth over and over again.

She sunk into a taut stance, holding her arms out, ready to grab mental control of anyone of them and crash them into the brick walls around them at a moment's notice.

"Then why don't you come over here so I can give you a proper reason to be scared." She hissed fiercely.

The leader, obviously not amused at this little girl challenging him, motioned for the guy to his immediate right. "Deal with her." He ordered.

The guy smirked, revealing a mouth that only had six teeth left, and he charged Morgan, metal bat in his hand raised high above him, ready to bash Morgan's head in.

Morgan knew it'd be easier for her to gain control of the bat in his hand rather than him – manipulating non-organic things were so much easier, especially when she needed to act fast – Morgan directed her mental focus on it and spread the fingers on her right hand out before throwing her arm to the right, watching with satisfaction as the bat aimed straight for the red brick wall, the guy clutching it in his hands too surprised to let go before it was too late.

His head came into contact with the wall with a crunch and he slid down the wall, unconscious.

The leader was obviously not pleased with this. He'd expected the pesky blonde to go down without a fight. "Get her!" He barked at the remaining four men and they jumped to attention before charging at her all at once.

This attack would prove more difficult to fend off, Morgan realized, so she stood up from her crouch and flew into the air, just out of their reach.

One of them, obviously finding himself terribly clever, threw his own metal bat – identical to the other one – after her. Morgan swerved to the side right in time to avoid the bat crashing into her left wing. Glaring, she trained her attention on the bat and sent it crashing down into the back of the head of the guy who'd thrown it and he crumbled to the ground, unconscious.

Having evened the odds somewhat now and still wanting to create a barrier between the men and the woman, who was leaning fearfully into the corner of the alley, looking like she was trying to melt completely into the cold brick, Morgan landed on the ground again.

The first man jumped her but she bent low and braced her arms against his stomach, using her power to add strength behind her throw, and she sent him across the small space, landing on top of the two others.

The leader seemed to think it was time for him to join the fray and he pulled out a shining and wickedly sharp-looking knife from his inner pocket.

Training her undivided attention on him proved to be her mistake and she only noticed the hand grasping hold of her ankle when it was too late. One of the men she'd knocked to the round had regained his wits quicker than she'd expected and after reaching out for her ankle, he gave it a rough heave. Morgan, releasing a startled sound, found her balance gone and she fell to the dirty cement beneath her.

She looked up just in time to roll out of the way of the knife the leader was bringing down on her, and instead of the knife meeting its mark, it bounced off of the ground.

Morgan jumped to her feet and used her new-found height advantage to kick the leader in the face and then the hand, making him drop hisknife.

He roared in pain and anger, lunging for her legs in an attempt to gain the upper hand.

Morgan leapt out of his reach, not noticing that the guy who'd grabbed her ankle before – the only man that wasn't put out of commission besides the leader – had gotten to his feet again and was now right behind her.

He grabbed her in an arm lock almost exactly like the one she'd been held in when she'd fought those drug dealers with Nightwing.

This time she knew how to get out of it, though. Stomping her boot with all her might into his foot, the attack startled him just enough for Morgan to wriggle her hands free and she turned around, aiming a punch at his stubble-covered jawline. She willed her powers into the punch and was satisfied when the crack! that echoed around the alley told her that she'd most likely broken his jaw.

He let out a garbled scream and fell to his knees, all of his attention now focused on his smarting face.

A sudden pain, worse than any she'd ever experienced before, abruptly screamed in her left arm and she looked down just in time to see the leader pull his knife from the long gash he'd just dealt her.

Morgan cursed inwardly as she tried to keep her focus on the task at hand. Her suit was built for speed and agility, not necessarily security. The part of the suit that covered her upper body was bullet proof to protect her internal organs, but her sleeves were not. A knife could easily cut through the sturdy fabric if enough strength was put behind the slash.

Morgan clutched her now useless arm to her chest, not caring that she was bleeding all over the light-grey winged symbol on it. A voice in her head was screaming at her to finish the job quickly before it was too late.

She held her right arm out and spread her fingers wide, and with a fierce glare, she threw the man up so his head connected with the bottom of the steel fire escape right above them. Her shoulders sagged with satisfaction when his unconscious body fell down, hitting the ground with a thud.

Morgan turned to the woman she'd just saved, who was staring at her with a look akin to wonder.

"Are you okay?"

The woman nodded hesitantly and Morgan plowed right on. "Do me a favor and call the police. They'll want to deal with this scum." She was wheezing, her breathing uneven from both the physical exertion she'd just been through, but also the pain in her arm.

"You're hurt," the woman spoke up. "You should go to the hospital."

Morgan managed to muster up a confident smirk. "Don't worry about me. I've had worse" – a lie, but she needed to end the conversation as soon as possible so she could go back to the Cave and have someone stitch her up. "Just call the police and tell them what happened. Stay safe."

Not waiting for the woman to respond, Morgan took to the air, heading for Mount Justice.

Morgan knew that going back for her bag and clothes was an unnecessary risk that she'd be stupid to take. She'd have to enter the Cave in her costume and explain why she was bleeding. By now, it was too late to prevent any of the others from finding out she'd been sneaking out at night to go on patrol when she wasn't allowed.

By morning Nightwing would certainly know, if not tonight already. Morgan rued the dressing down he was bound to give her.

Oh well.. it had been fun while it lasted. She sighed and clutched her arm tighter to her chest as she accepted her fate. Right now, she feared bleeding out or losing consciousness before she reached the Cave more than she feared her mentor's wrath.

She landed on the ground in front of the entrance to the Cave's garage and entered through the large, hangar-like doors.

Relief flooded her system when she spotted Mal. Out of all the people in the Cave, the gentle giant was the one she'd hoped to stumble across first.

"Mal!" She croaked out, already starting to feel dizzy.

The young man turned his head in her direction, eyes widening when he saw the state Morgan was in. the blood had stained most of her grey emblem crimson as well as her hands. Unregistered tears were slowly leaking from her eyes and she wobbled slightly on her feet.

He approached her quickly, demanding to know what happened.

"Knife." Morgan said shortly, gently moving her arm away from her chest so Mal could see the long, oozing cut that started just underneath the inside of her elbow and ended two inches above her wrist.

Mal swallowed thickly as the cut was revealed to him and he drew in a sharp breath.

Seeing the way her legs were shaking, Mal picked Morgan up and hurriedly walked deeper into the Cave, heading for the infirmary.

Morgan had been there a few times before. First when Hawkgirl had inspected her wings, second when Nightwing had taken a look at her bruised knuckles after she'd foolishly punched a rock, and once afterwards because she'd twisted her ankle during training. She hadn't been able to spar with Nightwing for a few days afterwards because he insisted that the ankle needed time to heal.

But neither of those injuries had been as dire as this one and as Morgan saw them approaching the double swing doors, her heart clenched in fear.

"You know how to treat it?" Morgan asked as Mal set her down on the nearest sick bed. The white sheets were stained crimson as Morgan clenched her right hand around them to deal with the pounding in her left arm.

"Sure," He responded as he sped around the room, gathering bandages, disinfectant and other things he'd need to treat her wound. "They don't just keep me around for my good looks."

Morgan chuckled through her tears at his attempt at humor, grateful that he was trying to lift the mood. It comforted her that her situation apparently wasn't bad enough to make joking distasteful.

Mal asked her to free her arm of her suit while he gathered whatever he needed. Morgan unbuttoned the dark blue cuff and pulled open the small zipper that had been added to make the tight suit easier to slip in and out of. Then she rolled the sleeve up as best as she could with one hand, trying her damndest to not touch or jostle the cut.

Mal arrived and immediately pressed a thick cloth to the wound, applying pressure. Morgan hissed out loud in pain and winched visibly.

"It's to stop the bleeding." Mal explained to prove that the pain was necessary right now.

Five minutes later he asked her to hold the cloth down on the wound for him and she did, watching as he soaked another cloth in a foul-smelling clear liquid.

"Disinfectant." He explained before she got the chance to ask.

He removed the fabric that had covered her wound once the bleeding had stopped and cleaned the wound with the disinfectant.

This time, instead of hissing, Morgan downright cried out in pain and bit harshly down on her lip to avoid shouting twice.

Mal spared her a look that was part sympathetic, part 'well maybe if you hadn't gone out and done something stupid this wouldn't have happened.'

"So," He said a moment later when he'd started dressing the wound. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Morgan hesitated before deciding that she should tell him. Mal had tended to her injury, he deserved to know what had caused it.

"I – uh," She wet her lower lip and started over. "I went on patrol in the city. Alone."

Mal looked up at her sharply, stilling his work. "I thought Nightwing told you not to."

"I did." came an icy voice from the doorway, making the two people in the room jump in surprise and turn around quickly.

Morgan swallowed nervously when she spotted Nightwing standing in the door, looking absolutely livid.

His entire body was completely tensed up in his fury and as he approached them, he walked in jerky movements because of it.

At the moment, Morgan vaguely thought somewhere in the back of her mind, he was as scary as Batman.

"How could you possibly be this stupid?" Nightwing seethed, stopping in front of Morgan's bed, hands clenched at his sides. "Sneaking out, disobeying orders, engaging in a fight with no means of back up? Getting yourself injured like that? How could you possibly be this stupid?!" He repeated.

Morgan leaned away from him, afraid he'd start frothing at the mouth any minute. Nightwing, usually so put together, was absolutely wild at the moment, a flurry of emotions that made her dizzy and gave her a head ache.

Or maybe that was just the blood loss.

Mal started wrapping her arm up at a faster pace, obviously wishing to get out of the crossfire. He'd probably borne witness to Nightwing lecturing a team member before and didn't wish to witness it again. Or maybe he'd never seen Nightwing this angry before and it scared him enough to flee as soon as possible.

Either way, seeing the big guy so nervous didn't comfort Morgan in the slightest.

She felt her rebellious side flare up, the side that seemed that much more active when she was dealing with Nightwing, and the side that seemed to get her constantly in trouble.

Morgan furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to defend her actions, but Nightwing cut her off.

"How many times?" He asked and Morgan crossed her arms at the vague question.

"How many times what?" She replied nastily. She could see Mal grimace at her tone, obviously thinking her crazy for daring to use that tone of voice when talking to an angry Nightwing.

"How many times have you snuck out on patrol by yourself?" He elaborated, crossing his arms stiffly over his chest as he leveled her with a glare, fiercer than she'd ever seen it before. She'd no doubt his blue eyes would be shooting lightning at her if they hadn't been hidden behind his mask.

"Uh," Morgan hesitated, knowing that it wouldn't be pretty if she told the truth, but also knowing that he'd recognize her lie if she told one. "Three. Three times."

Mal finished the bandage on her arm and was out the room before either hero could tell him to stay.

Morgan was glad. If there was one thing she hated more than getting yelled at by Nightwing, it was getting yelled at by Nightwing with an audience.

Nightwing's face – Morgan had thought it impossible – contorted into an even angrier mask.

"What?" He hissed, and the low sound was even more menacing than his shouting.

That rebellious side flared up again, this time with extra anger added to the dangerous mix. "Well what did you expect?" She protested loudly. "For me to rot away in the Cave as I waited for you to decide in a few years that I'd gotten good enough to help you escort old ladies across the street?"

"I expected you to trust my judgment and respect my orders!" Nightwing angrily replied. His body was filled with furious energy and he started pacing in the room, unable to stay still. "I expected you to have the patience to wait until you're actually skilled enough before going out by yourself!"

"Well, how am I supposed to become good enough when you're too focused on leading the Team to actually train me?!" Morgan shouted. "I went out on my own, yes, but if that's what it takes to actually evolve, then I'll gladly do it again! And you know what? I've been doing fine out there!"

He stopped pacing, getting close again. "You have not been doing fine!" Nightwing cut her off, pointing a long, gloved finger in her face. "If you'd done fine, you wouldn't have gotten injured! What were you thinking, Morgan? You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"BUT I DIDN'T!" Morgan exploded, pushing off of the bed she was sitting on to properly face him. "Did I?"

She heaved a large breath and launched into her defense again. "You might think I've been stupid and reckless, but I saved a woman's life tonight and that, I think, makes it worth it! Don't you want me to save lives?"

"That's not the point!" Nightwing growled. "The point is that you disobeyed a direct order and brought yourself in danger because of it. If I can't trust you to follow an order as simple as this one, how can I trust you'll do as asked when you're on a mission? If you insist on endangering your own life, I won't stop you, but how can I be sure your own life is the only one you endanger the next time you decide to ignore orders?!"

Morgan opened her mouth to protest but paused, knowing that her mentor had a very good point. She wobbled slightly on her legs, dizzier than before.

"I've tried my very best to get through to you Morgan, but this is your last warning." Nightwing looked at her almost disdainfully and Morgan hated it. "If you ever disobey an order like that again, you're off the Team."

Morgan felt as if her stomach was suddenly filled with ice and it was all she could do not to gasp out loud.

The thought of having to leave the Team and venture back into the world and live as she'd done before terrified her more than facing down a hundred men at once. Her anger was quickly drowned in her fear and she lost all fight in her body.

"I-" She swallowed, feeling like her mouth was filled with cotton. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Right as she said it, Morgan's legs finally gave out, weak and shaky from the loss of blood and the pain her wound had caused. Nightwing instinctively caught her, long fingers wrapping around her upper arms, before she could crash to the floor in a useless heap and supported her to the sickbed. She sat down, leaning against the headboard with closed eyes, sweat forming in her hairline.

She heard Nightwing curse under his breath in – was it Romanian? – and then he told her to stay put.

Morgan nodded wordlessly, not sure if he saw it and she heard the doors open and close behind him.

He couldn't have been gone for more than five minutes, but Morgan still managed to fall asleep in the short time, tired and sore from her eventful night.

February 14th

Nightwing arrived early at the Cave the next morning to be sure he'd catch Morgan before anyone else. They were long overdue for a talk, he'd decided the night before.

Walking into the infirmary, he found her still asleep. Pushing a chair next to her bed, he decided to exploit the wait and get some homework done.

His night had been, altogether, less of a success. They'd utterly failed in their attempt to talk some sense into Roy, which had put Nightwing into a bad mood to begin with. Then, returning to the Cave, he'd used the security camera system to track down Mal, wanting an update on the Team's dealings while he was away. You can imagine his surprise when he'd located Mal in the infirmary, binding the wound of a specific blond girl, in her suit.

Having already half way guessed – or disbelievingly figured that she wouldn't have done something that stupid – what had happened, Nightwing had marched himself straight down to the infirmary, telling himself that he had to remain calm and that it probably wasn't what it looked like - and it looked like she was having an injury being seen to because she'd been out, fighting.

Then he'd entered the infirmary – unnoticed by the others – and Morgan had confirmed that it was exactly what it looked like, and Nightwing had felt all his own reassurances and carefully built up walls of composure and calmness fly out the window faster than Superman could have.

Nightwing, for the first time in a very long time, saw red.

He wasn't sure how she did it, but Morgan certainly knew how to push the right buttons.

And then of course she'd gone and gotten ill so he couldn't keep shouting at her.

Though, right before she got ill, she'd apologized and promised to clean her act up. That comforted him somewhat. He could only hope that it hadn't been due to a moment's weakness because she had been unstable at the moment.

Threatening to throw her off the Team had been harsh, but Nightwing had reached the point where he didn't know what else to do. In the end, it had coerced the response from her that he wanted. An apology and the promise to do better.

Suddenly, the girl on his mind stirred next to him and from the change in her breathing, Nightwing could tell she was awake.

He gave her a few seconds to clear her undoubtedly foggy mind before he spoke up.

"When I was ten," He began, his tone slightly grave. "I had recently started going with Batman on patrols in Gotham. I was a pretty eager sidekick, wanted to go out and fight criminals all the time. I started begging Batman to try and let me go on my own because I was desperate to prove to him that I could do it."

He could feel Morgan fidget next to him as she paid close attention to his story, obviously intrigued but also suspecting where the story was going.

"Batman kept telling me 'no', said I wasn't ready to go out on my own." He went on. "I disagreed, of course. I always did well when I was with him, why should it be any different if I went alone? Anyway, one night when Batman was away, I snuck out and went on patrol in the city by myself." Nightwing smiled ruefully because the next part embarrassed him a bit. "There was this old abandoned building that I knew harbored a particularly ruthless gang and I decided that, if I managed to deal with them, Batman would see that I was ready. Foolishly, I tried to take on ten armed men at the same time. I ended up being thrown through a window and fell two stories down onto the street."

Nightwing finally turned and looked at the girl next to him who was watching him, her grey eyes wide.

"I broke my arm and had to call Batman for help. When I'd gotten my arm treated, he took me to the Batcave and gave me a stern lecture. I can still remember exactly what he said." Nightwing brought the memory to the front of his mind and started quoting his mentor's words. "'Robin, team work is about mutual trust. If I can't trust you to follow my orders, how can I trust you to have my back when I need it? How can I trust you to do your job properly when I can't even trust you to respect my judgment?'"

He cleared his throat. "And I'd like to remind you of the same. A team will only function if there is mutual trust there. Not necessarily friendship, but at least trust. If I don't feel like I can trust you, I won't be confident sending you on a mission because I'll feel like I'm endangering not only you, but also the people you're working with. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, as they say."

Morgan, for the first time ever, probably, seemed to really weigh his words instead of just disregarding them.

"I am sorry." Was the first thing she said. "Now that I think back on my actions, I can see how childish they were. And I promise to never disobey an order again. Just please," She directed a huge and wet pair of eyes at him. "Don't kick me off the team." Her voice was small.

Nightwing knew then that what he'd told her had gotten through to her. Not just the things he'd shouted at her the night before in his anger, but the story he'd told her that morning.

He almost dared to hope that their relationship would smooth out somewhat now that they'd reached some kind of agreement.

"I won't." He promised, standing up. As he walked towards the door, he added, "Go get something to eat. We train in an hour. You said you wanted to train more often, so that's what we'll do."

Behind him, he could hear her splutter in disbelief. "But my left arm is useless!" She protested.

"Guess your right one will have to be twice as fast then." Nightwing drawled, tossing a smirk at her over his shoulder. "Happy valentine's day." He quipped as he left the infirmary and a very exasperated and disbelieving Morgan behind.

You guys asked for some sort of reaction from Nightwing. I hope this was satisfactory. We're slowly moving into less hostile territory between these two! Now that they've come to some sort of agreement.

I hope Nightwing didn't seem out of character and stuff. I just always figured he'd get pretty angry and firm when people intentionally disobeyed his orders. And since Morgan's been annoying and rebellious since the beginning, I think it was only a matter of time until something would be the last straw, ya know? After all, he's only human.

Today's my brother's birthday! Yay! (We have a lot of birthdays around november and december.)

Fun fact: When Morgan is angry or distressed or thoughtful, she prefers cold showers. When she'd just taking a shower to take a shower, she prefers really hot showers.