Chapter Forty Eight

Done the Math

M'gann stopped stroking Morgan's hair as soon as it became apparent the girl had fallen asleep.

Nightwing was standing by the bed, nextto the seated Martian, his face a hard mask. His jaw was clenched angrily at the utter unfairness of it all, his crossed arms squeezing his chest almost uncomfortably. He hadn't moved from that position since placing Morgan on her bed. He needed to stay, make sure she was okay. It would be cruel to leave her to her own grief. But now, seeing as she was asleep and safe from reality for a moment, he kicked into action.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been at the explosion site, but it had been long enough for several of their team mates to return to the Warehouse, and at least five people had seen his arrive with a broken and sobbing Morgan in his arms.

That sort of scene demanded an explanation. And he wasn't going to force Morgan to explain what had happened. He'd spare her that pain. So the responsibility fell to him.

He'd allowed M'gann to enter the small space that made up Morgan's room, glad for the older girls presence. He knew she was a bit like an older sister to Morgan, and to be honest, she was probably a lot better at comforting the girl than he was. But everyone else had wisely chosen to stay on the other side of those curtains, waiting for their leader to reemerge and explain the situation.

Nightwing sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. "She was close to an explosion. She needs to have her injuries checked. I think she hit her head." Her disoriented behavior certainly hinted at it. "And then she needs peace." He told M'gann softly.

She looked up at him and nodded, letting him know she'd take care of it.

Running a tired hand over his face and through his hair, he briefly slipped his mask off to rub at his eyes.

At some point, unshed tears had gathered in the corners of his eyes and the dried salt stung his eyes and pulled at his lids.

Even though it had been ten years ago, he could still very clearly remember what it was like to lose a parent. And seeing the normally strong girl break into several pieces in front of him took him ten years back as he relived the death of his own parents.

It was a pain nobody should have to go through. It was unfair.

It was such a strange thing to say, but he was literally mad at the universe for hurting her in such a cruel way. His friend. His team mate. His crush. Morgan.

Nightwing clenched his jaw one extra time before relaxing his facial features. He slipped the mask back into place. Then he silently pulled the curtains aside and slipped into the main room, letting the blue fabric fall closed behind him again.

More people had arrived in the twenty minutes it took Morgan to fall asleep. The only people they were missing were Karen and Mal, who Nightwing was pretty sure where on a date. But Bart, Barbara, Connor, Cassie, Garfield and Tim were all sitting around silently, as if knowing that anything but this behavior would be wrong. The Warehouse was usually full of life and jokes, talking and activity. The exact opposite kind of atmosphere reigned now. Not even Bart was moving. You could've heard a pin drop.

At the soft flutter of the blue curtains and the nearly silent thumping of his boots against the floor, everyone simultaneously look up at their leader.

Nightwing approached the waiting gang, hating how he always seemed to be the bearer of bad news.

"Is she okay? What happened?" Barbara spoke up, the first to voice the questions they all wanted the answer to.

Nightwing found himself swallowing a lump down as he shook his head. Despite him having repeated the words over and over when he'd found her, Morgan wasn't okay. And she probably wouldn't be for some time.

At the shake of his heard, the people around him only looked all the more anxious, and he knew he'd have to hurry up and explain before he was run over with worried questions.

"There was an explosion. In Gotham. A building collapsed."

"Was – was she in the explosion?" Cassie worriedly asked.

Nightwing shook his head. "No.. she was close by, but not close enough to get seriously injured. Her.." He paused and swallowed again, clenching his jaw for the tenth time. "Her dad was in the building."

As his words registered, shock seemed to ripple through the small group like a wave.

Having finished his part, and wanting to avoid being bombarded by a thousand questions that he didn't have the emotional energy to answer, he quickly spoke up again. "Morgan and her dad has – had – a pretty complicated relationship. But if you want to know more, you'll have to ask her when she's ready. Which might not be for some time. For now, all any of us can do is support her in any way we can."

A few scattered nods let him know they understood.

"She's sleeping right now, so please stay quiet." He said, wrapping up. "That's all I can say for now."

Sensing the dismissal in his words, everyone went their separate ways, some leaving the Warehouse and some staying.

Nightwing watched as everyone but Tim and Barbara left him alone.

The two must've known that he really wasn't okay either because Barbara placed a comforting hand on his arm and Tim look at him with sympathetic and calculating eyes.

"I want to know the second she wakes up." He told them seriously before leaving the Warehouse himself.

There was still a burning building in Gotham to take care of. The police would want to know what happened.

Nightwing wasn't sure how much he could even tell them. It was pretty obvious that the Light had been behind the bomb, but he couldn't tell them that.

To be honest, he was mostly interested in actually finding the body. Because they couldn't actually be a hundred percent sure that her dad was dead.

For Morgan sake, he was going to make absolutely sure.

June 7th

'Dear mom,

When I'm telling you all of this through a letter, I want you to know that it's because I'm a coward. And I don't have the courage to see your face as I'm forced to break your heart.

I've been keeping a lot of things from you. I've been lying to you. In the beginning, I thought I was protecting you by staying silent, but now I see that, in the end, my silence will perhaps have hurt you far more than my honesty would have.

When dad contacted me, claiming he had answers, I lied to you. I told you that he had just wanted to explain why he never talked to me in those eight years. But that wasn't it. He wanted to see me because he'd found out that the experiments he'd preformed on me as a toddler had been successful. The wings he'd tried to grow out had indeed grown out.

Dad was the one who gave me my wings. And I didn't tell you that. And I'm sorry.

I know the news must be devastating to you, but I urge you to keep on reading because I'm far from finished. Don't blame yourself for what happened to me back then. You had no way of knowing.

He was working for an evil organization known as 'The Light'. They've been the justice League's, and my Team's, enemy for many years now.

They wanted to create their own super humans to fight against the superheroes. I was supposed to have been one of those soldiers.

Once the experiment proved a failure, the research was shut down and dad was sent to Denmark to resume other studies for The Light. That's why he suddenly divorced you and left.

But when he heard about the new superhero, Sparrow, he realized that his research wasn't a failure after all, so he came back. Only, this time something about him was different. He found that I wasn't just an experiment, but his daughter as well.

So he confronted the Light and told them that he didn't want any part in their schemes anymore.

His affection for his daughter was what killed him.

Dad died, mom. The Light killed him because he dared to go against their word. Because he dared to try and protect his own flesh and blood.

It's all my fault.

I'm sorry.

- Morgan'

Morgan stared numbly down at the letter she'd finished. Her eyes were red rimmed and stung from her tears. Her head was pounding like nothing else, her nose red and sore from her sniffling.

So, the past few days hadn't been so great.

Waking up after having fallen asleep the first day had probably been the worst part. Because for a moment, she'd actually forgotten about what had happened. And the re-realizing that he was dead had hurt just as much as the first time around.

Blinking her eyes open, Morgan didn't understand why her entire body was aching like it was. Her brain felt like it had been replaced with cotton, making her thoughts sluggish and scattered.

She forced herself out of her bed and had managed to walk three paces, when it felt like a literally bolt of lightning struck down on her.

In excruciatingly vivid detail, she recalled everything that had happened before she'd fallen asleep.

She stumbled out from behind the curtains, afraid that she was alone in the Warehouse – in the world – and yet equally afraid that somebody was there to witness as she fell to pieces.

Before, she'd been in absolute shock, and she'd been too affected by the explosion she'd just been in to fully understand what this meant.

Her dad was dead, yes, but it was only now, as she woke up in the Warehouse, that she realized what that meant. He was gone. Forever. She'd never see him again. She'd never get the chance to truly reconcile with him.

The truth hit her like a speeding train and her knees gave up beneath her. She didn't even realize that the heart wrenching cry that tore at her ears was her own.

Arms were around her suddenly, and the familiar smell and the green skin she could see in the corner of her eyes let her know it was M'gann currently shushing her soothingly, her arms stroking her hair and back steadily.

Another presence made itself known suddenly and Morgan looked up to spot Bart standing there with an anguished look on his usually happy and carefree face.

"You!" She all but shouted, not sure what compelled her to address him and why she sounded so angry. "You're from the future. Did you know this was going to happen?" She asked harshly, voice hard as stone as she looked at him through narrow, red eyes.

Bart looked shocked for a moment before he shook his head frantically. "Morgan, I swear I had no idea. This – this didn't happen in my timeline."

Somehow, knowing that an alternative her hadn't had to go through the heart break she was currently experiencing didn't make her feel better at all. Instead, she felt jealous and angry at how unfair it was.

She just couldn't catch a break, could she?

M'gann pulled her closer as Morgan's breathing turned erratic. She was so angry. So angry she was practically numb. There was anger that made you kick walls and punch pillows and scream, and then there was anger that turned you numb. Anger that crippled you. Made you unable to do anything but breathe harshly and clench your teeth.

She was experiencing the second kind of anger. And, mingled with her grief, she couldn't do much except sit in M'gann's arms and focus all of her energy on keep herself somewhat together. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her own waist right underneath her chest, digging into the fabric of her shirt.

A third hand suddenly closed around her shoulder and squeezed it, and because he'd done that exact movement many times, Morgan instantly knew it was Nightwing.

She looked up at him, her eyes following him as he crouched down in front of her, balancing on the soles of his toes. She kept rapt attention to him because, somehow, she could tell he had news.

"I was at the site." He eventually said. Morgan nodded, letting him know she understood. Her vocal chords seemed to have failed her.

"They.. they found the.. body."

A fresh wave of tears welled up in her eyes and she bit harshly down on her bottom lip, but the news where strangely comforting. They had something to burry. She was also strangely relieved that there couldn't be any doubt about his death.

Back when Morgan had been seven, one of her really good friends had lost her dad in a plane crash. His body was never recovered, and the daughter lived in a constant rollercoaster of emotion. She'd be grieved over his death, but at the same time she'd be treacherously hopeful that, because the body wasn't found, he could still be alive somewhere.

Morgan wasn't sure she could bear to live like that. Never truly finding peace because hope wouldn't let her accept the truth.

Now, there was a stone cold fact that she could work on accepting. There was no guesswork of any kind. No misplaced hope.

She looked up at her former mentor, realizing that he must've gone back to the side afterwards to make sure the body was found, for her sake.

"Thank you." She managed to croak out.

He nodded once.

M'gann was still stroking her back soothingly, but Morgan found that she needed more physical contact. She needed something to keep her grounded. The comforting warmth of another body.

Without thinking, she leaned forward and let her forehead rest against the blue symbol on Nightwing's chest. The hand on her shoulder climbed to the back of her head and dug into her curls as his head came down to rest gently against the crown of hers.

The three superheroes sat on the floor for a long time, giving Morgan all the time she needed to process her loss.

Morgan blinked her eyes back into focus as she escaped the memory.

She folded the white pages in front of her gingerly and slipped them slowly into an envelope. She'd deliver the letter to her mom's apartment later tonight.

Nightwing had urged her to confront her mom personally, but she couldn't. She just.. couldn't.

Everybody on the Team knew about the truth of her wings by now. She'd found that simply telling them was much easier than being subjected to the curious and sad looks they offered her whenever she caught them staring.

It didn't matter. They could know for all she cared.

She didn't even care that they now knew she was a product of the Light, a secret she'd wanted to keep to herself for as long as possible for fear of their reactions. After all, if Nightwing had been appalled by their origin, some of the Team less mature and more temperamental and judgmental members were sure to be even worse.

But screw it. Her life couldn't suck more than it already did.

In the darkness of the night, as she lay and wished for sleep that would never come, Morgan had had too much time to think about her own situation. Her own life.

She'd done the math.

And there was no way to ignore that her life had taken a turn for the absolute worst the moment those cursed wings had first started growing out of her back. She'd been forced to make so many sacrifices because of them. And then, once they finally appeared to have a purpose, she'd found out that their creator was pure evil. Their intention was death and destruction. She'd learned that the guy she liked was repulsed by her because of the feathered limbs. Not because they were there, but because of their creators.

And they'd gotten her dad killed. If she hadn't become Sparrow, hadn't so freely displayed them – almost proudly – to the world, he wouldn't have returned to America. He would have stayed in Denmark, where he was safe.

She hated those things from the bottom of her heart.

And so, a decision had been made.

Tonight, she was going to go see Fathiya. And she'd accept that offer.

She'd have her wings removed.

By this time tomorrow, the only clue to them ever having been there would be two closed wounds on her back.

Morgan realized it might've been a coward's solution, but she so tired. She was utterly exhausted, so sick and tired of all of this constant fighting. She was at war with herself, trying to hate or love her wings, constantly balancing between the two emotions. She was at war with the world, who believed the superheroes were untrustworthy. She was at war with the Reach, who was trying to enslave her kind and harvest her abilities. She was at war with the Light, the people who'd made her wings. And she was tired of the war. Of all of it.

Morgan knew that having her wings removed was the cowardly thing to do, but she'd reached a point where she was beyond caring. She just wanted out. She wanted to escape the downwards spiral her life seemed to be in.

So she wanted the wings gone, before they could destroy the last few good things she had left.

The wings were going.

The knowledge sent her head spinning. She supposed she should've been nervous or excited, but just like every days since her father's death, she just felt numb.

She'd cried and mourned, and then she'd grown numb.

She was almost grateful for the numbness. It was easier than dealing with the grief.

The only downside to her numbness was that the rest of the Team seemed to have decided to keep a constant eye on her. As they were afraid she'd do something drastic. Please. If she was going to hurt anyone, it was the people who'd killed her father.

Closing the envelope, she stood up from her bed and stretched her sore muscles. Getting barely two hours of sleep a night really did nothing good for her body and mind.

She slipped the envelope into the pocket of her large hoodie, hoping she'd get to leave the Warehouse without anyone noticing.

Part of her felt like she should tell Nightwing about what she planned to do. She knew he'd try to stop her, but at the same time, she felt like she owed it to him to tell him the truth. He'd helped her through a lot of stuff, it almost felt wrong to do this without consulting him first.

As she walked out into the main room of the Warehouse, she found that she might actually have chance to tell him. They were the only ones there.

He looked up from the work he was doing as he heard her. "Going out?" He cautiously asked, his gaze calculating.

She nodded half heartedly and stared at the floor. "I've got the letter.. for my mom." She forced out. Her voice felt weird because she'd been using it so rarely the past few days.

You have to tell him.

She sighed and deflated. "And.. I'm meeting with Fathiya."

He watched her silently for a moment, as if already knowing this was more than just a social visit. "Why?" he eventually asked.

Morgan bit at her lower lip. "She, uh.. Way back when I met her the first time.. She offered to help me get rid of my.." Morgan swallowed. "Get rid of my wings.."

Nightwing stilled for a moment as his eyes turned wide and incredulous. "Morgan, you can't!"

She felt herself get defensive. It was a strange change of pace as she'd been numb for so long that she'd almost forgotten what defensiveness even felt like.

"I damn well can, and I damn well will." She snapped back at him.

He took three large strides so he was in front of her, looking urgent. "Morgan, please think this through. Removing your wings will help no one."

"It'll help me!" She immediately insisted, not understanding why he didn't get this.

"Morgan I know you're hurting," He grabbed hold her upper arms and looked worriedly at her, willing her to understand that he was speaking the truth. "But having them removed won't solve anything."

"You're not the one who has to life with those monstrosities." She seethed back.

Seeing that his words did nothing to sway her, Nightwing seemed to get mad as well. "I'm not going to let you do it." He responded firmly. "I'll order you if I have to."

Morgan bit out a harsh laugh that sounded icier than any sound she'd ever made before. She forced herself out of his grip and took a distancing step back. "You can't order me to do squat. You're not my mentor anymore, remember? You made sure to ditch that responsibility the second you thought we'd gotten a bit too close." She shot back.

Nightwing straightened, looking like he'd been slapped. "I – that's not what happened–"

"And why should you even care if I got them removed? You're disgusted by my wings, aren't you? Isn't that why you freaked out like that? Because you made the mistake of kissing the lab freak?"

"Is – is that what you think happened?" He retaliated, sounding like he was caught between anger and disbelief. "Is that what this is about? You're removing your wings because you think I'm disgusted by them?"

"Don't flatter yourself." She denied quickly and venomously, scoffing at him and taking a step forward, all up in his face. "Do you really think I'm such a weakling that I'd literally amputate my own limbs just because some boy didn't like them?"

"Then what on earth made you think this was a good idea?" He demanded to know.

"My dad died!" She finally exploded. "My dad died because of them! My life turned to shit because of them! My parents divorced because of them!"

Just to list a few.

"Those things have caused me nothing but misery and sorrow. And I want them gone!"

"You're wrong, They didn't just bring you misery.." He shook his head at her. "Morgan, you're acting rashly because you're grieving. Please don't do this. You'll regret it."

She simply stared blankly at him, showing that his words changed nothing.

"I'm not going to let you do it." He insisted again, looking sternly down at her.

"You won't stop me." Was her cold reply.

She took a step towards the Zeta tube, but Nightwing blocked her path.

"Let me through." She hissed.

"Morgan, please." He implored instead. "Don't make me do this."

She ignored his words and made to step around him instead, but Nightwing reached a hand out and grabbed her around her forearm, pulling her back.

Morgan instantly reacted, jumping up and placing her feet against his chest. She pushed with her feet, wrenching her arm free, and landed in a crouch some feet away.

He looked like it was the last thing he wanted to do, but Nightwing sunk into a fighting position himself, his right hand hovered by his eskrima sticks, should she try to leave again.

"I'm not letting you do this to yourself." He told her firmly.

Morgan stood to her full height, regarding him coolly. "I wasn't asking for your permission."

Then, before she had the time to think, realize that this was her mentor – former mentor – she was attacking, she'd trained her telekinesis onto him and sent him crash against the wall behind them, knocking him out cold.

Her heart gave an unexpected and uncomfortable twitch as she forced herself to turn on her heel and stalk to the Zeta tube, ignoring her unconscious team leader.

She'd probably just gotten herself kicked off the Team.

Well..

Yup.

So, kind of a short chapter, but that's cuz lot's of shit's happening next chapter.

Also, Morgan is a dumbass. I think we can all agree to that.

I checked it just the other day, and the most reviewed YJ story on the site has 1.700-something reviews, so if you guys want this one to be the most reviewed story - and of course you do, we all want that, right? - you better get cracking ;)

Fun fact: I'm working on a Clark/Georgia one shot sorta thing. So far I'm at 1.409 words.