Chapter 17: Friends? Friends.
June 25th
Gotham
Sparrow
Right as the mist overtook them, Sparrow let the coin in her hand fall. She watched as it lit up before her vision swam with gold, and she was thrown onto her hands and knees. The silence around her told her they were back, even though she couldn't see anything yet.
Her heart was hammering, and she inadvertently pressed a fist against her chest, trying to stave off the violent beating. Slowly, the ground before her eyes started coming into view as the gold siphoned out, and she leaned back onto her calves.
He had seen them. She had watched as Black Beetle entered the room, his cold eyes locking onto her immediately.
They had led him right to the other Morgan.
"Woo," Jaime said with relief. "That was close!"
"At least we're back now, without incident," Koriand'r added. To them, it might have seemed like a fairly uncomplicated mission – after all, they hadn't even been in any fights.
Morgan exchanged a look with Dick and Bart, who both looked as grim as her. The three of them alone understood what had just transpired.
"Let's get back to the Tower and debrief," Nightwing muttered, not sounding overly enthusiastic. He took the coin from his belt and threw it into the mist. It ignited a golden hue, and the mist swirled violently around it before the coin consumed it entirely. He picked it back up and put it back into one of the pouches by his hip.
Another rift closed.
But at what cost?
Sparrow felt numb in her limbs as they wrapped up the debrief and Nightwing dismissed the rest of them. With unseeing eyes, she headed towards the main hall and the zeta platform. She just wanted to get home to her bed and hide beneath her covers until the tight coil of guilt and horror had unwound in her stomach. She wanted to cry and cry until she felt numb, but she knew that was unbecoming of a hero. She was supposed to be stronger than that.
After tapping in the number for Gotham, she stepped onto the platform and watched as the bright light consumed her legs, moving quickly upwards.
A presence slipped next to her right as her mind blanked. As she regained her consciousness in the hidden zetaroom at the heart of Gotham, she was unsurprised to see Dick standing beside her.
"Morgan.." he said her name in such a way that every emotion inside of her kick-started, blasting through the numbness like a cannonball.
"We doomed her - me," she said, all of her focus going into keeping her voice from shaking. She turned blazing eyes in his direction and he winced at the wild look she was sure was on her face.
"We don't know that for sure. Black Beetle would've gone after her eventually, even if we hadn't been there."
"That's not an excuse!" she exclaimed, tugging at her braid. A breeze stirred in the small room from the agitated snap of her wings.
"I wanted to tell her," Morgan admitted. "They could tell there was something I knew, but they wouldn't let me tell them."
Dick frowned. "You shouldn't be telling them about the future. You could mess with-"
"Mess with the timelines?" she shot back. "Isn't that exactly what we've been doing?"
"Yeah but that's different, we're trying to stop our own timeline from being erased."
"We're trying to save ourselves. Did we stop to consider the damage we'd be doing to the other timeline in the process? What if our presence is the reason the others lose?"
He sat down on a table heavily. The pretense melted away and he relinquished the control he had over his own body language as he slumped and rubbed at his eyes. It wasn't often he allowed people to read him this openly, she knew, and it comforted her to know he was being real with her.
"It's not like I haven't had the same thoughts.." he admitted. "I try to tell myself what we're doing is for the best, because we're trying to save our world. And I remind myself of what the older me told us - that their timeline was cursed and we didn't belong in it."
Morgan fretted at the tip of her braid. She started undoing the tight hairdo, her scalp aching from all the pulling she'd been doing at her hair.
"The other Morgan is going to die," she said in a low voice, swallowing to keep her throat from closing up. The words came out like they were poison on her tongue, bitter and strangled.
Dick's jaw clenched and his fists gripped the table so tightly the wood creaked ominously.
"She was always going to die," he said in a carefully controlled voice.
He might as well have punched her in the stomach. All air rushed from her and she released it in a low gasp.
He looked at her with a hard stare.
"There's nothing you can do to change it - even if you save that Morgan, it'll just create another timeline - but the original Morgan will always die by Black Beetle's hands."
"So, I just give up?" she asked desperately. "If her death is inevitable, what are we even fighting for?"
"I'm not fighting for her, I'm fighting for you!" He stood up from the table in a rush and she stumbled a step back from the intense regard on his face. "And everyone else who gets to avoid that fate by us fixing our timeline. I'm fighting to make sure you don't die too."
He moved towards her and she was rooted to the spot as he approached. His hands twitched by his sides, but he didn't touch her. Her insides twisted as she looked up into his face, which betrayed real anguish.
"You have to let go of the things you can't change. It's not your fault and it's not your responsibility," his eyes were pleading, and she was unsure if he spoke to her or himself. "Please, Morgan. You can't shoulder this on top of everything else we're doing. It's too much for one person to carry."
She resisted the urge to call him a hypocrite - Dick regularly took upon himself more responsibility than was warranted, and he always blamed himself when people got hurt.
But he was right, of course. Morgan knew she'd torture herself into madness if she thought too much about the fate of the other timeline. She couldn't sabotage their mission by succumbing to the existential dread threatening to immobilize her. She had to keep her focus on the task at hand. The fact that, if they didn't manage to stop the merger, she would die in the near future. The fact that their world would revert back to a horrible fate that none of them deserved.
She worried at her lower lip, but nodded to show she agreed with what he'd said, even if it hurt. She lowered her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of curls. Her chest clenched with guilt at the thought of accepting the fate of her other self, but she understood why it was necessary.
"Then let's focus on the mission," she mumbled. Dick's hand came forward and tugged her chin gently up so she would look at him. Her heart jumped at the tender touch, even if it felt forbidden.
She fixed him in place with a sharp look and batted his hand away - anything to distract herself from the way her heart danced.
"You need to let go of this idea that you have to keep an eye on me. You're letting yourself get distracted during missions."
He looked away from her and took a few steps back, his body angled to hide his face.
"You almost died at the Fortress." His voice came out fragile, to her great surprise. He wasn't trying to deny the weakness at all. "It.. scared me."
her breath hitched. She knew he'd been worried – perhaps she just hadn't realized how heavily it weighed on him. She didn't understand - couldn't he see she was fine?
"Heroes get hurt all the time," she reminded him carefully. "You can't let that stop you. I meant it when I said I was done working with you if you can't treat me like an equal teammember."
"You're right," he sighed, running a tired hand through his messy hair. "Old habits die hard. I'll.. do my best to break out of them."
"That's all I ask.. for now." She nodded at his compromise. "And I promise I won't keep things from you if they're relevant to our mission."
"Good."
July 1st
Gotham
Morgan
With a grunt, Abigail set down the box she was carrying. Behind her trailed Morgan, who was floating five boxes beside her, and a dresser in front of her. Abigail turned and quickly swerved out of the way, before the dresser bumped into her.
"Watch where you're moving that thing!" she laughed. Morgan peeked out from behind the dresser and smiled sheepishly, before setting it down in the corner.
"That was the last of them," her mom sighed, smiling through the sad look in her eyes. "You're officially moved out."
Morgan looked with excitement at what would be her new home. The single-room apartment was old, and the kitchen was barely more than a counter, a sink, a tiny stove, and a single cupboard, but it was hers.
"Thanks for helping me move," she said to her mom, pulling her into a side hug as she telekinetically placed the five boxes on the floor beside the front door.
"Do you need anything else? Otherwise, I'm off to work."
Morgan shook her head. "No, I'm perfect. Excited to start unpacking."
Her mom blinked rapidly, keeping tears at bay, and Morgan pretended not to notice, for both their sakes.
"Have a nice shift," she said, not wanting to admit that she was kind of eager for her mom to leave so she could start unpacking.
Her mom hovered by the door for a moment, and Morgan, instantly feeling bad for secretly wanting her to leave, jumped over and gave her another tight hug.
"I'll be by tomorrow for dinner," she mumbled, face pressed into her mom's shoulder, and Abigail squeezed her all the tighter for it.
When she let go, her mom tenderly held Morgan's face in her hands and Morgan gave her a close-lipped smile.
"My big girl," she sighed.
"You're gonna be late for work," Morgan teased.
"Right. I'm off."
Suddenly, she found herself standing alone in her apartment.
Her own space. No one else. Complete privacy.
She grinned and leapt towards the small nook in which they'd crammed her bed and jumped onto it. Landing on her back, she stretched and rested her head on her folded hands.
Morgan breathed deeply, releasing a loud and content breath from her mouth.
"This. Is. The. life!" she exclaimed. Opening her eyes, she followed the cracked line in the ceiling, going all the way down the wall, on which the wallpaper was starting to fall off.
She grimaced. Okay, so maybe the apartment was the smallest and cheapest thing money could buy in Gotham, without being placed in the Narrows or any of the other slums. But it was fine – she could fix a bit of wallpaper.
She pulled her legs up to her chest and used their weight to roll onto her butt, jumping out of the bed. With vigor, she dug into the first box and started pulling its contents out. It was mostly books, and she used her telekinesis to place them all on her bookshelf, which she had already placed against the wall opposite of the bed. For a few hours, she intensively unpacked, knowing the chance of her getting all boxes out would be much higher the quicker she was to empty them. If they were still here in a week, she'd register them as part of the décor, and she would never unpack them fully.
The apartment was perfectly square, but because of the small bathroom, the main room had a little nook, in which her broad bed had just fit. It meant she had no space for her nightstand, but she could always sell that. The small kitchen took up no space at all, and she had placed a small, square table with a folding chair by the only window in the apartment, which was next to the single counter space she had been afforded. A two-person sofa, used to separate the kitchen from the living room, a low coffee table, a floor lamp and her bookcase comprised the living room.
It was all she needed. The lamp was a bright, happy yellow, and the green couch had been filled with throw pillows, to make it soft and inviting for her to sink into and read. The coffee table was long, and she had placed the low basket with her abandoned knitting project off to the side on it. Her mom had gifted her a single potted Pilea, gravely informing her that the mark of a true grownup was keeping a houseplant alive for at least a year.
With great respect, she placed the plant on her windowsill, before grabbing a glass from her newly arranged cupboard, and giving the little plant a drink of water.
Once done, she turned and looked around. Nearly finished. Against one wall stood all her pictures and posters that she intended to hang up. She just didn't have the tools yet. So, for now, their spot was next to her front door. She had an unopened box with shelves that were also waiting to be put up. Crowded on her dining table stood all the paraphernalia she planned to place on the shelves once they were installed.
"This is good so far," she decided with satisfaction. She grabbed her keys and shoved them into her shoulder bag. She had to get groceries to fill her empty fridge and cupboard.
Every sound was muffled, and she couldn't see because her hair kept floating in front of her face. She gasped, and bubbles erupted in front of her face. Underwater?
The water was clear, but slowly, red started seeping into it. It kept going and going, until it was all she could see. She kept wiping at it, trying to dispel the color. She kicked her feet and propelled herself backwards a bit, trying to escape the cloud of red. She bumped into something from behind, and as she turned, she tried to scream. Water started flooding her mouth, running down her throat and choking her.
Dark skin, blue tattoos, shocking blonde hair. She knew who that was – but her mind was muddled, confused. The water was everywhere, filling her lungs. She couldn't breathe.
She crashed onto the floor of the burning building, soaking wet and gasping for air. Black Beetle was laughing somewhere behind her, the sound making the ground rumble. She got up and started running, leaving a pool of sea water behind her. The bundle in her arms was screaming again. She kept running. Every floor she reached; the fire was inching closer.
She was on the roof. Desperately, she tried to spread her wings and escape, but the one on her right started screaming in pain and she realized it was broken.
The shadows gathered into a mass before her. Limbs emerged from the darkness, and Black Beetle didn't even smile. His face was cold and full of hatred as he summoned his sword. With a single flick of his arm, he cut her open.
She let out a shuddering gasp and sank to her knees. Her vision darkened.
July 12th
Morgan's apartment
Morgan
With a deep breath, her body sprang to life, and Morgan's eyes flickered open. At the very least, she'd stopped waking up with a scream.
Small blessings.
With a hammering heart, she sat up, turning on her lamp to chase away the nightly shadows. She grabbed her phone.
It was almost five am – another small blessing. She'd almost got something resembling a good night's sleep, having gone to bed uncharacteristically early the prior evening.
Morgan pushed curls out of her face and sat in her bed with her head lowered, one hand holding her hair in place and the other resting on her propped-up knee. Her blanket pooled around her hips as she sat, contemplating her dream. The first part had been different. It had reminded her of the dream she'd had of the willow in the forest.
Another prophetic dream, perhaps?
She wished she could remember exactly had happened. Someone had gotten hurt – who? There had been blood everywhere, it had been difficult to see.
Morgan got out of bed and flicked on the ceiling lamp in her little kitchen, filling up the kettle. Letting it heat, she went to use the bathroom. She grimaced once she saw herself in the mirror. She wouldn't exactly call herself well rested, based on the dark bruises under her eyes. She thought about buying some concealer to cover it up. She was starting to get annoyed with all the sympathetic looks she kept getting from her friends anytime she went to the Watchtower. Like she was the only one not getting any sleep! She was sure the true reason Batman always wore his cowl was not to conceal his identity, but to hide his sleep deprivation.
What bugged her more was the scrutinizing eye Julie watched her with anytime she arrived at the shelter. If Morgan started looking any more haggard than she already did, she worried Julie would tell her to take a break from her volunteer work.
Taking a break was the last thing she needed. She needed to keep herself busy. Busy was what kept her mind from dwelling in places it shouldn't.
Places like the guilt she felt for not telling Dick and Artemis that she'd met Wally in something she still wasn't sure was a dream or not. He had seemed so real. And he'd made her promise not to tell them, which was the only reason she'd held her tongue.
Or perhaps the fact that she met Jason, Red Hood, the rogue family member that the rest of the Bat-dynasty was trying to track down. Twice.
Morgan turned on the sink and took a long drink of water, before dabbing some cool water on her eyes in an attempt to reduce the puffiness. She'd been in a deep sleep for sure.
The water in her kettle finished heating to a boil just as she reemerged from the bathroom, and she grabbed a bag of coffee grinds, pouring some into her french press. She let the coffee steep for a generous amount of time as she found her computer and settled at the small table.
Waking up early wasn't actually that bad. It gave her more time to relax, before going to work. Now that school was over for the summer, and had been for over a month, shE spent her days working, to save up as much as she could. She had the late morning shift at the coffeeshop she worked at, and later that evening she had her volunteer work.
With a satisfied smack of her lips, she enjoyed her first sip of coffee. It was strong enough to curl a weaker man's nose hairs, but she preferred it like that on days like these.
Once she had downed two cups of coffee and a serving of oatmeal, she put on a simple, white t-shirt and a pair of blue, wide-legged jeans. Since it was still early morning, she shrugged on a black bomber jacket – the one M'gann had gotten her for her last birthday with the embroidered flowers up the sleeves. Pulling on her sneakers, she left her apartment, heading straight into the hustle and bustle of the early Gotham traffic.
As she walked down the sidewalk, she pulled her hair into a bun at the back of her head, a few curls immediately springing forth to frame her face. The trip to her workplace took all of ten minutes, and her pace was fast, spurred on by the two strong cups of coffee buzzing through her system.
Pulling out her keychain, she unlocked the backdoor to the shop. Flicking on the lights inside, she turned on the radio and set to turning on the coffee machines and preheating the ovens. The coffeeshop owner, Andres, would be here soon to help her set up, but he'd texted her earlier that he'd be late because he was picking up baked goods across town, since there's been an issue with their usual supplier.
Morgan hummed along to the music as she emptied the dishwashers from last night.
For a while, as she busied herself readying the coffeeshop, thoughts of nightmares, rifts, ex-boyfriends and guilt melted away.
Morgan came home in the early evening smelling of coffee and sweat. Her body ached and she slowly peeled her clothes off, practically crawling into the shower. She let the hot water beat down on her tense muscles, ignoring any thoughts of water bills.
She turned her face towards the steady spray of water, holding her breath and letting the shower pelt her features. The sensation made her remember her dream, and she frowned trying to recall the images with more clarity. Just like water, the images floated somewhere out of reach, insubstantial and impossible to grab onto.
Feeling sufficiently clean and smelling of her flowery shampoo, she got out of the shower. She stood with her wings still in the shower stall, letting the worst of the water drip off them, as she dried herself. She shook her feathers carefully before smoothing her wings down with another towel. It was often a painstaking process, despite her feathers being mostly water-resistant. She unwrapped the towel around her hair and did her curly-girl routine, replacing her hair in a wrap so it could dry without being weighed down.
Entering her living space, she looked to her kettle and thought about making more coffee. She turned towards her couch instead, deciding to just go to bed early tonight. She couldn't keep trying to combat her exhaustion with coffee – eventually, she had to accept her fate and just learn to go back to sleep after having a nightmare.
She opened her laptop and put on some hack baking competition, needing some noise to fill out the silence of her apartment. In an hour or so, she would make dinner and then she'd probably watch a movie before turning in for the night.
Quiet nights like these felt few and fair in between, and she relished the opportunity. Perhaps, as she watched a movie, she would pick up her knitting project again. Or perhaps she would start over and make a few cloths for cleaning. Now that she had her own place, she truly understood the need for upkeep, and the need for cheap cleaning supplies.
She looked at the pile of pictures still stood next to her front door, and the unopened boxes of shelves, upon which she had placed all the decorative knick-knacks that were supposed to be placed on the shelves, once she had them installed.
She would get around to it.. she promised she would. She'd only been living here for two weeks – it hadn't gotten embarrassing yet. She was just busy with work and the hero-gig.
Forty-five minutes later found her boiling pasta and making a simple tomato sauce in a pan. Her phone was playing music and she hummed along and swayed her hips. The shower had rejuvenated her energy and her mood, and she found herself enjoying the domestic activity a lot. Something about cooking in her own kitchen, with groceries she'd bought with her own money, just felt right. She was once again confirmed in her belief that moving out had been the right decision. Even her mom had seemed happier and more relaxed when she'd visited her yesterday.
The music she was playing from her phone was suddenly cut off as she received an incoming call. With a sigh, she put down the spoon she'd been stirring the sauce with and picked it up.
Her heart sped up ever so slightly. Dick calling her could only mean one thing.
"Hey, Dick," she said, the first words she'd spoken in a few hours. It felt like the spell of tranquility in her little apartment was broken in that instant, as if her voice had dispelled it. "What's up?"
"Hi, Morgan," his voice on the other end sounded distracted, but it still somehow made a shiver run down her spine. "We've got another one. When can you be here?"
She felt her body still, realizing her night was going in an entirely different direction than she'd previously planned for. She looked at her dinner, so close to being done. At the very least, she wanted to fill her stomach before she went.
"Give me half an hour. No-" she remembered she would also need to don her suit and reach a zeta location, "Forty-five minutes."
"Okay," he grunted, not sounding entirely pleased about the long wait time, but accepting it nonetheless. "I'll gather a team."
"See you soon."
"Yeah," was it her imagination, or did he sound as tired as she? "See you soon."
She sighed and put her phone back down, turning off the music once it resumed playing after the call disconnected.
So much for quiet nights.
June 12th
Watchtower
Nightwing
With an air of impatience, Nightwing checked the time on his phone for the third time in the last ten minutes. Where was she?
"Didn't you say she would be here in forty-five minutes?" Kaldur asked, his voice as calm and patient as always. Dick looked at his friend, who was regarding him with a look that told him he knew where Nightwing's thoughts had been at. Behind them, M'gann and La'gaan were talking pleasantly. He was impressed with how relaxed they seemed around each other, considering their history. But something about M'gann getting married and La'gaan getting an Atlantean girlfriend, seemed to have settled the past.
"Yeah," Dick answered Kaldur's question, almost wincing when he registered how sourly the word came out.
Kaldur regarded him with amusement shining in his pale yes. "Only forty minutes have passed. She isn't late, yet."
Nightwing pressed his lips together and shoved the phone back into one of his pouches. He was itching to get going. His readings told him this was another big one, and he wanted to get this over with quickly. It was already early evening, and he wanted this to be done before they hit midnight.
Three minutes passed.
The zeta platform came to life, and the detached female voice announced the arrival of Sparrow. Morgan stepped off the platform, looking right as rain and not at all like she was late.
"With two minutes to spare!" she announced happily, by way of greeting, placing her hands on her hips and giving him a cheeky smile. It was almost like she'd been privy to their prior conversation. Nightwing realized she might've just been able to read his body language, as he stood with arms crossed and his foot tapping impatiently against the metal floor.
"Good. Let's go," he started heading for the garage, and the rest of them followed.
"No debrief?" Morgan questioned. Her curls looked extra bouncy as she jogged after him.
"We debriefed while waiting for you," M'gann said cheerily.
"We'll catch you up on the bioship, but we have two hours of flight, so we need to get going." He watched as her eyes flitted uncertainly towards Kaldur, some hesitation passing across her face.
Didn't she want him here?
"Alright, Alpha squad," Dick announced as they entered the bioship and M'gann took the helm. "Time to go."
"So, where are we headed?" Morgan asked once they were all settled into chairs, and M'gann had flown them into the vast emptiness of space. Earth loomed ever closer, and they entered orbit with little fanfare.
"The North Atlantic," Dick said, showing their destination on the large holoscreen at the front of the ship. "The new rift appears to be located on the outskirts of Poseidonis."
"We're going into the ocean?" her voice carried a smidge of worry at the news, but she seemed to look at their squad with new understanding – it wasn't a coincidence that that two Atlanteans had been chosen.
"M'gann will link us all up so we can still communicate. Here," he handed her a rebreather, which she clutched in her hand.
Curiously, she looked at Kaldur again, her face drawn into a worried mask.
What was up?
Dick remembered the talk they'd had in the Gotham sewers. She had asked him to not tell Kaldur about her scared reaction to the corpse. Dick felt himself start to worry.
Did she.. have a crush on Kaldur?
Something in Dick's stomach soured, and he tried to squash down the idea before it could develop any further. He was being stupid – of course she didn't have a crush on Kaldur.
And yet why not? He was a competent leader, a nice person – he was certainly handsome. And he was powerful. From the few interactions Dick had been privy to, Kaldur had always treated Morgan with kindness and respect.
Something he'd sometimes failed to do.
Dick felt a stab of guilt at the realization, and he hurriedly trained his focus onto his screen, analyzing the readings of the rift they were fast approaching. Doing a mission entirely underwater was going to be complicated – he and Morgan had to make absolutely sure they didn't drop their rebreathers. As long as they didn't end up in any fights, the chances of that happening were low, so he wasn't entirely worried.
He worried more about Morgan's swimming. He knew her wings somewhat complicated it for her. She'd never mentioned it, but he knew she was hesitant to get into any body of water.
He subtly looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting with her head bowed low, her arms crossed. Her face was drawn into a tense, apprehensive mask. Anxiety came off her in waves.
He could tell she was worrying herself into a hole, her hands clenching tighter and tighter around her biceps the longer she was allowed to steep.
He needed to break her out of it – as the leader of the squad, it was his job to make sure every member was as close to a good headspace as realistically possible. If Morgan was on the verge of some kind of panic attack, she would be a liability – and she would be a danger to herself.
He was about to open his mouth and pull her out of her whirlpool of thoughts, when Kaldur beat him to it. The other man was sitting on her opposite side, and he must've read on her the same anxiety that Dick had perceived.
"Are you well, Morgan?" he asked.
Morgan blinked and looked up, pulled out of what must've been very deep thoughts. She looked to her side as if only then registering who had spoken to her.
"Oh!" Her body sprang to life, and she straightened in her seat, looking alert. "I'm fine, just lost in thought." She smiled reassuringly at Kaldur.
She was lying – her feet were tapping nervously against the floor, and her back was tense.
"You seem distracted." Kaldur said, the statement masking a question.
"I just had a long day – early shift at work and then my volunteer stuff at the women's shelter," she shrugged and gave him a more convincing smile. "Really, I'm fine."
Kaldur nodded in approval. "Good. Otherwise, if you're not feeling well, I would have you speak up about it. It is important to me that all members of the League are doing well."
Was she blushing? Dick wished he could see her face better from his position. He resisted the urge to lean forward in his seat and assert himself into their conversation.
"I know," she assured him. "I will – thank you."
Her voice had gone soft. Had they had some conversation similar to this one before? There seemed to be an understanding between the two of them. Dick had no idea they'd even been talking at all, other than when Kaldur sent her on missions.
"How is your volunteering going?" Kaldur asked next. How did he know about that? Dick had only found out a few weeks ago when Abigail had told him about it, and how important it was to her.
"It's good!" she smiled, genuinely, this time. "I mean, it's hard, but it's meaningful."
Kaldur gave her a calm smile. "I'm glad."
Impulsively, Dick cleared his throat, and the two heroes turned towards him.
Uuuhh.. he scrambled to think of something to say that made his interruption make sense.
"Let's find some swimming gear in the back so we're ready when we reach our destination."
"Good idea." Morgan got out of her seat and led the way to the back.
They started looking through the expansive storage unit, searching for anything that would help them. Dick tried to think of anything to say, but he found himself at a loss. The only question on his mind was 'Do you have a crush on Kaldur?' and he worried he'd blurt it out if he allowed himself to start talking.
"Will you be okay, staying underwater for so long?" he asked, finally thinking of something to say.
"I'm not, like, in love with the idea," Morgan shrugged, halting her rummaging through a box. "But if that's what it'll take to deal with this rift, then that's what I've gotta do."
"We'll be psychically linked, so you'll still be able to talk to the rest of us if you're starting to lose your nerve," he said gently, hoping he wasn't coming across as condescending.
She shot him a look over her shoulder. "I'm fine, Dick. Really."
"Just stick close to me and I'll keep an eye on you, okay?" he pressed again, letting his worry spill into his voice. If he'd been smarter, he'd known saying something like that would only make her defensive. But apparently, today he wasn't smart.
Unexpectedly, she glared at him.
"Stop babysitting me. I'll be fine. I can swim, you know?" She started looking through the box again, mumbling her next words, "You and Kaldur should stop worrying about me."
Back to Kaldur. That question was on the tip of his tongue again.
"I didn't know you two were close?" he wondered, hoping to glean something from her response.
She looked at him weirdly.
"We're not? He's my leader, it's natural that he checks up on me."
With frustration, he dropped the subject. Her answers were revealing nothing to him.
Eventually, they each found a pair of flippers that fit them. As they reemerged from the back, La'gaan started cracking up at the sight.
He made some comment about land dwellers, and Morgan frowned, sticking out her tongue at him.
"Should I start laughing at you every time you need a plane to fly?" she challenged.
He kept laughing, and Morgan flicked one of her flippers at him, which he dodged, before sending it back her way.
"Everyone, strap in," M'gann cut across their childish antics, though not without a small smile on her lips. "We're about to enter the Atlantic Ocean."
Morgan and Dick hurriedly got back into their seats. Dick undid his boots and put on the flippers instead. Morgan was busy braiding her hair back before she too swapped her boots for the flippers.
The bioship barely reacted as it lowered into the water. M'gann pressed a few buttons to prepare the ship for the pressure change it was about to be under, and then they were off again. For several minutes, the view out of the front window was an endless blue-ish grey. Then, the murky layer gave way to something clearer. Slowly, underwater cliffs came into view, covered with colorful plants and corals. Hundreds of species of fish were swimming busily around in a rainbow of colors.
In the distance he saw buildings, as Poseidonis came into view. They popped up amongst the rocky terrain, colorful and lively. The style of buildings was otherworldly, but carried an organic feel that made sense for underwater constructions. There were hundreds of lamps illuminating the gorgeous underwater city. He could see merfolk going about their days as usual.
"This is Poseidonis, the capital of Atlantis," Kaldur said with pride. Dick turned and saw Morgan gape at the view with wonder. For a moment, she seemed to forget her fear of water.
He looked at his tracker. They were nearly on top of the rift.
"Miss M, find somewhere to, uh, 'park' the bioship. We're nearly there."
M'gann looked around, and ultimately decided to land the ship in an open field, flanked with corals. She took care not to destroy any of the underwater flora. With a light clunk, the ship settled and was still. It was time to go.
He didn't exactly feel graceful as Dick walked towards the hatch at the back of the ship, flippers squeaking and slapping obnoxiously against the floor.
"We stick close together. Hopefully, the rift will be easy to close, but it's big enough that it will transport us, and we don't know what we'll find on the other side."
"Aye, Captain."
He ignored Morgan's salute and gave M'gann the signal to prepare them for going outside. She pressed a button, and a hatch closed behind them, trapping their group in a small chamber. The hatch leading to the ocean outside rose a bit, letting water bubble in. In no time, it had reached his hips, and Dick dug out his rebreather and placed it over his mouth. He gave it a few test-breaths and found that air was flowing easily through it.
Morgan had adorned hers as well, and M'gann had changed form, gills appearing on her neck, and her feet merging into a single tail.
The chamber was soon full, and the hatch opened fully. Dick pushed off the floor and swam out, the rest of them following suit. He was quickly overtaken by Kaldur, La'gaan and M'gann, who, despite Dick's prowess in swimming, were obviously faster.
Morgan was close behind him, but he could tell her progress was slower, burdened by her wings as she was. She kept them tightly folded on her back to streamline herself as much as was possible, but the added weight was still a challenge. At least she seemed to have no issue using the rebreather.
The water was cold, but not so cold that it stung his skin. Dick's hair floated in front of his eyes as he halted mid swim to pull up his holo, revealing the location of the rift. The others formed a circle around him, waiting for his signal.
He looked towards M'gann and pointed a finger at his temple. She closed her eyes and touched her hands to her temples.
Link established, her voice echoed in his mind.
Good. The rift should be just on the other side of this ridge, he pointed towards one of the cliffs, which served as the walls of the valley they were in.
He started swimming in that direction, Kaldur keeping to his side. Once they reached the top of the ridge, they had a clear view of the expansive, underground world they were in.
Below, the bottom of the ridge smoothed out at the level of the ocean floor. Some thirty feet away, the ocean floor opened up into a deep, dark chasm, like a jagged knife had cut a deep groove into the landscape.
Dick's readings indicated the rift was down there.
There, he pointed at the chasm, and closed down his holo, swimming towards the darker water. Their group halted at the edge of the deep pool.
Ah fuck, Morgan's voice entered his mind. The others turned towards her. Oh shit, you guys could hear that. I meant, oh golly gee I'm so excited to head into the obviously cursed, dark water.
Scared of a bit of water, chum? La'gaan's scornful retort seemed to steel her nerve – if nothing else, then it at least ignited her stubbornness, which usually carried her quite far.
Not on your life. Which I will prove by heading down there as the first one, her voice sounded miffed, but she couldn't quite hide the strain in it. True to her word, she did a few powerful kicks with her flippers, and over the edge she went.
The others followed suit. It grew steadily darker as they went, and Dick took out one of his escrima sticks, pressing a button that turned on the flashlight at the end of it.
It didn't take long for them to find the rift. Out of the darkness emerged a softly glowing ball of milky mist. Despite being underwater, it looked identical to how it behaved on land, further proving that these rifts weren't fully in the world, nor were they affected by it.
The five of them all swam towards the portal.
Ready?
They all nodded.
Remember, we don't know what's going to be on the other side, so be prepared, Dick said as he offered Morgan his hand. Like so many times before, she took his wrist, and he grabbed her arm. The glow from the spell illuminated the dark cavern they were in, casting light on the rough cliff face behind them.
The mist swallowed them, and they were gone.
?
Poseidonis
Nightwing
A blaster shot whizzed past Nightwing's ear the second he came to. Instantly, he ducked and looked around.
Watch out! He yelled through the mental link – a pointless warning, as they had all heard the shot and had turned to face the direction from which it originated.
The chasm was still dark, and no enemy was immediately visible, but Nightwing knew someone was out there. For an extended moment, the deep sea was completely quiet. Nothing stirred. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
The sound of something electronic powering up reached his ears, garbled, and distorted by the water. A glowing, red triangle appeared in the blackness, followed by several more, until a dozen of them lit up the dark chasm. Nightwing realized with a sinking stomach that they had landed right on top of a squad of Manta's soldiers. Their black suits had camouflaged them, but the red visors of their masks were unmistakable.
Another blaster shot was fired, and Aquaman leapt forward, drawing from his magic to shield their squad. A volley was sent their way, and Nightwing started looking around for an exit strategy. They couldn't outswim the soldiers, who had the advantage of being on their home turf. It looked like they would have to fight their way out.
And where had the mist gone? The fact that it had dematerialized as soon as they arrived hadn't escaped his notice.
A voice, distorted by the dark helmet he wore, gasped out a single name. "Kaldur'ahm?"
"Father?" Kaldur answered, though he had the wherewithal to keep up the shield protecting their group. Black Manta signaled for his soldiers to stop shooting.
"But you were killed!" Black Manta's voice took on a raw note, but it soon changed to fury. He pointed a hateful finger at M'gann. "This is one of your tricks, Martian witch! My son is dead. I know because I watched him die!"
Nobody had the time to react before Black Manta gave the signal for his soldiers to start firing again. He swam towards them, withdrawing a large sabre. The cry he let out was horrible, a guttural and painful sound that betrayed the sorrow he felt, and how deeply affected he was from seeing Kaldur again.
Nightwing wished he could say something, try to convince Black Manta that this wasn't a trick – but they were underwater, and he had a rebreather stuck in his mouth.
Kaldur met his father's attack with his own, glowing sword. Manta's soldiers came forward, ready to engage the group of heroes. Dick had never fought a foe underwater like this – sure, there was the occasional fight when he and some thug had fallen in the harbor together and had continued their spat in the water. But this was leagues beyond that.
He pulled out his escrimasticks and blocked the approaching club aimed at his face. The soldier was stopped in their tracks, and Dick hit them over the head with his weapon.
He looked to his side and saw La'gaan, now blown up to thrice his usual size, grab one soldier and use him as a weapon to pummel another.
At his other side, M'gann was using her telekinesis to block any blaster shot heading their way, and Sparrow had ripped the blaster from the hands of another soldier.
They were gaining the upper hand.
He felt more than heard the gasp leaving Kaldur, and he looked to his friend with dread already settling in his chest.
Red blood was already leaking into the dark water, originating from Kaldur's stomach where Black Manta's sword was protruding.
Kaldur! Several voices cried in his mind at once.
Aqualad and Miss Martian both came forward, overtaking Nightwing on his way. Behind them, Sparrow appeared frozen, her eyes wide open with shock. M'gann pushed Black Manta away, sending him crashing into the cliffside. La'gaan grabbed his injured countryman and held him tight, using his other arm to punch at an approaching soldier.
However, Black Manta regained his balance quickly and came forward once more, his sword raised in attack.
Nightwing grabbed a small explosive from his belt and lobbed it at Black Manta. It went off against his chest and sent him flying back again, and he let out a grunt when he hit the cliffside.
"So, it's explosions you want?" Manta growled out. From his back, he produced a large gun and aimed it at the cliffside.
Watch out!
Everything erupted into a cloud of fire, rocks and dust. The water became murky and impossible to navigate. Nightwing started swimming in the direction he'd last seen the others, hoping none were hit with the large rocks tumbling down the cliffside. He found them all huddled together, and he motioned for them to start swimming.
We need to use the distraction to get away while we have the chance!
What about the mist? M'gann asked as they followed him, her voice clipped. La'gann supported Kaldur, who was barely conscious.
It's not here right now. We need to find somewhere to regroup, Dick said, And we need to treat Kaldur's wound.
Another blast whizzed past them, exploding part of the cliffside ahead. Nightwing could feel his heart pumping loudly with the adrenalin coursing through his body – should they stay and fight, or get out of there while they had the chance? He was inexperienced with fighting in water, and they had been completely unprepared for anything like this.
Another explosion, this one right above them. He was swimming closely behind Sparrow and saw the blast push her, several rocks pelting her body. Nightwing grabbed onto her and pulled her out of the way, the both of them swimming frantically to get out of the way of the collapsing cliffside.
Black Manta was unstable. He was actively trying to bring down the entire chasm, burying all of them, even himself and his men.
Nightwing, Morgan's voice came into his mind, and he knew something was wrong. She turned towards him, looking panicked, and his insides froze at what he saw.
She had dropped the rebreather, lost when the rocks had hit her.
No.
He looked below and saw the tiny device dropping like a stone into the impenetrable blackness below.
La'gaan, get that rebreather! he shouted, pointing down. Grabbing onto the back of Morgan's head, he sucked in a deep breath and shoved his rebreather into her mouth.
It's okay, I've got you. We'll share.
She took several deep breaths.
La'gaan had seen the exchange and understood what had happened. He instantly dove into the murky depths, letting Kaldur's limp form float on its own. Now with air in her lungs, Morgan had the sense to grab onto Kaldur with her telekinesis, pulling him to them. She gave Dick the rebreather, and he accepted it, breathing deeply.
Her eyes focused on something behind him, and she held out a hand, halting the shot aimed straight for his back. Dick placed the rebreather back into her mouth.
Thank you, they both said as one.
I've got them, M'gann's voice sounded angry, and she swam forward. It's time to end this. Holding out both hands, she finished what Black Manta had started, and collapsed both sides of the canyon. A giant pile of rubble separated them from their attackers.
Dick looked around. This was their opportunity to escape.
Where can we hide? He wondered, the thought mostly for his own sake.
He barely registered Morgan giving him back the rebreather but accepted the air with gratitude. This was working for now, but they needed to find the other rebreather, or they were doomed – he wasn't getting enough air, and he knew she wasn't either.
Kaldur, barely conscious, used his last bit of strength to point a hand towards a dip in the canyon wall. It looked like nothing more than a dark hole.
Cave, his voice sounded weak, even in their minds, with air.
Dick grabbed Morgan's hand and passed Kaldur on to M'gann, heading for the hole. He hoped Kaldur was right, and it wasn't just his delirium talking. Once they reached the hole, Dick realized he'd been correct – there was a large tunnel. He passed the rebreather to Morgan, and swam as quickly as he could, hoping to reach an air pocket.
Seconds passed as he sped through the dark tunnel, hoping, praying, for the water to end.
His hands broke through the tension of the surface, and though he was sorely tempted to breathe in the air he found himself in, he forced himself to hold his breath as he pulled up his computer and scanned the air.
He felt that his chest was about to burst, and knew he couldn't keep his breath any longer, when the reading finally confirmed the air was non-toxic and breathable.
La'gaan, we found a cave, M'gann's voice echoed in his mind. Dick lay, supported on his outstretched arms, gulping in deep breaths with his lower body still in the water. Morgan appeared beside him, looking white as a sheet. She took the rebreather out of her mouth and pushed herself onto the rough cave floor.
I'm coming, La'gaan answered.
Dick rolled onto his back and studied his surroundings. The cave was surprisingly big, the ceiling spanning many feet above them – good, that meant more air. It was a dead end, but the back wall of the cave was overgrown with bioluminescent plants that lit the space with a low glow in purples, greens, and oranges. Stalactites and stalagmites protruded from the ceiling and floor like jagged teeth.
With a mighty splash, M'gann surfaced, carrying Kaldur. La'gaan was close behind.
Dick was on his feet quickly, helping her lug their friend onto the dry floor at the back of the cave. He started pulling off the orange shirt Kaldur wore as part of his Aquaman suit, assessing the injury.
This wasn't how he had expected the mission to go. The thought frustrated him – he should've been prepared for anything. The lack of a fight during their previous mission had lulled him into a false sense of security. He was starkly reminded that the world they traveled to was far more dangerous than their own.
He worked to stop the bleeding with clenched teeth. He had failed. This was his fault. Kaldur was injured and Morgan had nearly drowned.
Dick sat back on his haunches once the bleeding had slowed down. The cave was silent. Neither M'gann nor La'gaan spoke. Morgan sat off by the edge of the water, looking like she was trying to make herself as small as possible.
What now?
?
Poseidonis
Sparrow
Morgan was trying to drown out the churning in her gut, a cocktail of paranoia, worry and immense guilt. She had known. She should've told somebody about her dream. She should've said something the moment Kaldur had joined their mission, and she'd had that feeling something was off.
This was all her fault – if she had said something, maybe he wouldn't have gotten injured. And now?
She looked over her shoulder at the man lying unconscious on the floor, wrapped up in gauze. Beside him sat M'gann in a trance – she had entered Kaldur's mind to help him not slip into a coma, but still keep him unconscious while he healed up.
He had to be okay. If he died because of her, she wouldn't be able to live with herself.
That's what her dreams were for, right? To warn them? To help them? What was the point of her having these prophetic visions, if she didn't use them for anything?
And then she'd dropped the rebreather and would've drowned, if Dick hadn't been there to save her. After she'd insisted that she was fine and wouldn't need his help.
Morgan raked a hand through her almost dried hair. It was stiff with saltwater, which made it easy to get out of the way. She had taken out her braid some time ago to let her hair dry, and now her curls fell in sad clumps about her face and shoulders. She shivered and pulled her bare feet closer to the rest of her body, both from a desire to conserve heat, but also to make herself smaller. Her flippers, as well as her mask, lay by her side.
She looked at the water slowly lapping at the shore she sat on. Nightwing and La'gaan had been gone for a while now, presumably still looking for her lost rebreather. She tried not to think about what would happen if they never found it.
Since M'gann was in a trance, the mental link had been shut down, and she found herself with only her own voice in her mind. She hated not knowing where the others were, or if they'd made any progress.
Her feet were freezing, and she wrapped her fingers and palms around her toes, trying to bring some heat back into them. The cave was moist and the air was chilly. She supposed they were lucky they'd even found somewhere to hide, but that didn't mean she was particularly wild about the place. Her heart started hammering in her chest every time she looked at the ceiling and remembered the many tons of rock hovering above her. She felt like the ceiling bore down on her, making it hard to breathe.
She didn't want to blame herself for the mission going wrong, but the guilt nagged at her. She wanted to drown out the voice in her mind that kept hissing at her that she was a failure, that she wasn't fit for this.
No. She shook her head and clenched her jaw, pushing back against the evil thoughts. It wasn't doing her any good, allowing those thoughts. Was she going to quit being a superhero? No! Then she might as well stop tearing herself down.
The water was disturbed by bubbles rising to the surface. Seconds later, Dick appeared, with La'gaan close behind.
She sat up a little straighter, hoping for some good news.
Dick shook his head at her and removed his rebreather. He was out of breath from the long swim, and looked exhausted. He dragged himself onto the rocky bank, leaning back on his elbows to look at the ceiling. He was close, close enough that she could feel the heat from his body, and he looked up at her, pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes.
"We didn't find it. It's too dark now. We'll have to wait for tomorrow morning."
Her heart sank. The longer they waited, the likelier the device would be gone for good. And then what? Both of them had to be there to activate the mist. Would they just have to share the one and hope for the best?
"What's the point if the portal is gone?" La'gaan grouched, walking out of the water next to the two of them. He was spraying water everywhere and Morgan turned away with a scrunched nose at the wet droplets hitting her face.
"The portal isn't gone," Dick said as he sat up in his spot. "I've been monitoring it. Looks like us passing through it siphoned a lot of energy from it. It's regenerating. If it keeps gaining in strength at the rate it has so far, it'll reach its original size sometime late tonight."
Morgan was unsure if he was aware that he almost sat close enough to touch, but she didn't move. She'd felt rooted to her spot for over an hour now, and she wasn't about to move.
Still, this was good news, at least. They had a way of getting back as soon as they found the rebreather.
"At first light, I'm going back out to look," La'gaan said. He sat against the rough wall of the cave before lying down. "For now, I'm getting some shut-eye. Wake me in a few hours."
Morgan looked at his form, wondering how he was going to fall asleep on the hard ground. Even more amazing was the fact that he was snoring within the minute. He must've been exhausted.
Her eyes found the water again, the surface once again calm and dark. A single drop of water fell from a stalactite above and created small ripples that grew until they gently lapped at the rocky bank. In the quiet, the sound of the drop hitting the water had felt impossibly loud. Morgan became ever more aware of the fact that Dick was sitting close, and he was studying her openly.
"What's up?" he asked eventually, and she closed her eyes from the quiet tenderness of his voice. He had removed his mask a minute ago, his blue eyes bared to her, and the action had made some terrible emotion unfurl in her stomach.
She had known her wish for the quiet to never end was impossible. That, inevitably, he was going to pry.
Morgan tried to sort through her thoughts, trying to figure out which felt less dangerous to approach first.
"I'm sorry I dropped the rebreather." Her eventual answer was barely more than a mumble, and she tightened her arms around her legs, pretending it was about staying warm.
Dick sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. He took off his gloves and then removed the flippers on his feet, as she had done earlier. They had left red marks along the top of his feet, and he massaged at the irritated skin.
"You were caught in an explosion and a rockslide. It wasn't your fault."
"What happens if we can't find it?" she said, wishing he would reveal to her some kind of easy solution. Nightwing always saved the day. He always had a plan.
"We will find it. Otherwise," he looked up from his feet and met her eyes, a solemn stubbornness glinting in them, "we share, and hold our breaths."
She dearly wished she hadn't been able to see the doubt on his face.
He tilted his head and studied her with that discerning gaze that always seemed to pierce right through her.
"What else is bothering you?"
So, they came to it. She wondered if he would be furious with her when she admitted she had foreseen Kaldur's injury but had been too stupid to react on it.
"Last night I-" she cleared her throat and looked quickly behind her. La'gaan was snoring lightly, and M'gann sat still as a rock, her eyes glowing. Kaldur didn't move.
She started over, "Last night I had a dream about the mission. I saw blood in the water, and I think.. I think I saw Kaldur."
Dick straightened his posture but didn't react otherwise. She rushed to get the rest of her story out before he passed judgement on her.
"I think I saw his injury? And I saw myself drowning? But I forgot the dream when I woke up." She raked a hand through her hair again, but this time she allowed it to fall like a curtain in front of her face, to shield herself from the anger she was certain would be blooming on his face. "I didn't remember it until after it came to pass but – but I still had that nagging feeling when you said Kaldur was joining the mission. I should've.. I should've said something. I could've stopped it."
And there it was. She stopped talking, waiting for his swift judgement to fall. Another drop of water fell from the ceiling, and her eyes traced the ripples in the water. La'gaan let out a particularly loud, snorting snore behind them.
She saw Dick move from behind her curtain. She stiffened when his hand came forward and gingerly drew back the hair, tugging it behind her ear and revealing her face once more. The rough, battleworn skin of his fingers didn't betray the gentleness of his touch, and the warmth from his hands seemed blazing hot against her cool skin.
"You're freezing." His voice came out like a whisper, but she detected no anger in it, and it made her look at him in surprise.
He quirked an eyebrow at her and one corner of his mouth twitched, his lush lips betraying a tiny smile.
"Were you expecting me to be angry at you?"
She opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of an appropriate answer. "I just admitted it's my fault Kaldur got injured!" she spluttered.
"Did you force Black Manta to attack him?" he challenged.
"Well, no, but-"
"You can't control your dreams any more than you could've controlled Black Manta's actions," he shrugged. "This prophetic gift or curse of yours is still totally new, and we don't know how reliable it actually is. I don't blame you for not knowing how to use it yet."
He dug into one of the pouches on his belt and withdrew a heating pad. Activating it, he handed it to her, and her freezing fingers graciously accepted it. She felt like even her insides were starting to thaw, the more he spoke.
"Besides, I'm the leader of this mission. It's my responsibility to keep everyone safe, so if anyone needs the blame, it's me."
"You couldn't have controlled Manta's actions any more than I. If I'm not allowed to blame myself neither are you." She frowned deeply at the double standard. He was always so much harder on himself than anyone else, and she wished he'd extend himself the same grace that he gave her.
His smile turned into something with a self-deprecating edge and he ducked his head to hide it.
"Deal," he said after a moment.
"But thank you," she said slowly, trying to accept his words. "For not blaming me."
"I think the only thing I blame you for is not trusting your gut," he frowned. "You have good instincts. You should voice it when you have a nagging feeling. Remember that next time."
She studied him with astonishment, her gray eyes wide and unblinking. Right then, you could've told her Dick had personally hung the stars in the sky, and she would've believed it. Her heart was clenching and aching in a way that was terrible and yet pure bliss.
He had looked away and was peacefully studying the ceiling, as if allowing her a private moment to stare at him. An odd but kind gesture.
"I'll remember that." She mirrored his request, and he smiled a little bit. She realized the heavy blanket that had nailed her to the spot had lifted, and she shifted a bit in her spot, allowing some blood to flow back into her numb behind.
Dick looked at his watch.
"Look at that – it's midnight." His eyes found hers, and she didn't look away. "Happy birthday."
Morgan blinked. She scrambled to think back on the date and realized that he was right.
"I had totally forgotten about that," she admitted, huffing out a small laugh in disbelief. "I guess my brain really is starting to deteriorate from lack of sleep."
"Don't joke about that," Dick admonished her, his tone pained. "Are your nightmares getting worse?"
She shrugged. "Not necessarily. Just more frequent. It's.. draining, reliving your death over and over every week."
From the frown on his face, she somewhat regretted bringing it up. She didn't want to talk about it, and least of all in a way that would garner her any sympathy.
"You said you dreamt you were drowning?" he pressed.
"Uh, yeah." Should she close down the conversation? Part of her felt relief at talking to someone about it, but a bigger part fought against the weakness she was portraying. "That's not necessarily new. I've had those kinds of nightmares before."
"Since when?"
"Since, uh.." she bit her lip, but he fixed her with a piercing look that urged her to go on. "Since I almost drowned in Happy Harbor? The night Mount Justice blew up."
"I never actually heard about what happened in the immediate aftermath." The question was clear in his statement.
Morgan pressed her lips together. Right. She'd never actually told him that she'd panicked and almost drowned in an attempt to save him from the same fate.
"You were unconscious," she shrugged. "How could you know?"
"So then, what happened?" he pressed.
"Uhh."
"Morgan." He said her name with exasperation.
"You were about to be pulled under by a wave, so I panicked. Dove after you." The words rushed out of her, and she tried to sound breezy. "I pushed you to the surface, but I guess I hadn't realized my wings were so heavy. Besides, I had three cracked ribs. So, I was going under, but Hal got me out of there. Since then, I haven't been wild about open water."
Dick was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. "You saved my life, and I never knew about it?"
Her cheeks colored and she looked at the heating pad in her hands.
"It's not a big deal – you've saved me more times than I can count, I was just returning the favor."
"It's a big deal to me," he responded, and she looked at him quickly. He shifted so he sat closer to her, almost leaning into her side. "Thank you for doing that."
She didn't feel cold anymore. In fact, she felt like she was burning up.
Change of subject! She needed a change of subject.
"Has Diana said anything about the fates?" she asked. "We haven't seen them in a while."
"Nothing, yet," Dick sighed and tossed a pebble into the water, disturbing the surface once more. "The Greek deities are almost impossible to track down. Most of them haven't been seen for over a thousand years."
"It feels like the portals are getting bigger. Stronger." She worried at her bottom lip, wondering what it meant. "We have no way of knowing how long this is going to last. Are we going to spend all our time closing portals for the next few months? Years? The rest of our lives?"
"What are you getting it?" Dick asked.
Morgan sighed. "I'm asking, when is it going to end? When are we going to find a permanent solution? Are we even making a difference?"
"It ends when we find the Fates and make them stop." Dick sounded resigned but determined. "Until then, all we can do is put out fires as we find them."
"You sound so confident," she challenged. "Aren't you worried? Isn't this tiring to you too?"
Dick waved a dismissive hand in front of him. "Don't worry about me. We were talking about your worries."
Her heart fell into her stomach.
"Of course," she scoffed. "As usual."
"What do you mean?" He sounded truly clueless.
Morgan cleared her throat. Did she really want to get into this right now? Not really. And yet – he had read something on her face that she hadn't meant to show. It was clear, from the intense focus he was suddenly giving her. She kept her mouth shut and looked blankly at him.
"C'mon, Morgan," he said, and her name sounded so sweet leaving his mouth. He grabbed hold of her hand and bent low over it, breathing some warmth into her fingers. He looked up at her through his dark lashes and she felt rooted to the spot, her mouth open in a small, shuddering breath as she stared at his deep blue eyes. "You used to tell me everything."
She withdrew her hand, aware that he was entrancing her, and found his words left a hollow sting in her chest.
"That's just it. I used to tell you everything."
He frowned and let his hands fall into his lap. He had angled himself so he was facing her, but Morgan kept her gaze stubbornly forward.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She closed her eyes. She had opened a door she knew she couldn't close now.
"It means I tried to be as open as possible, and you never returned the favor."
He pushed his dried hair out of his eyes, the frown deepening.
"That's not fair, you were dealing with a lot of crap back then. I didn't want to burden you with my stuff, not when I knew I could handle it on my own."
She felt like they were approaching a precipice, a deep drop into a dark unknown. Was she willing to push? Was it too late to turn back?
With a deep clarity, she realized that, yes, it was too late to turn back. All of her secrets, all of the thoughts she'd kept to herself, the things she'd refused to tell any of their friends when they'd prodded her to talk about the failed relationship – they threatened to spill out of her. She keenly remembered the talk she'd had with the other Dick.
"If I know you at all – and I think I do – you probably didn't give Dick an explanation. And you know you owe him one. So, consider me practice until you're ready to have that conversation with your Dick."
Was she ready? Certainly not. But she had begun this, and she knew she needed to finish it.
"How do you think that made me feel, being the only one with issues, constantly needing you to care for me?" she began, trying to make sure the words came out right. She knew she wasn't exactly known for weighing her words carefully, but right now it felt imperative. Her heart was hammering in her chest. "I felt like a.. huge burden. All I wanted was to feel like you needed me as much as I needed you, but you were too caught up in shouldering everyone else and being a strong leader. You never noticed how useless I felt."
Dick was silent for a long while. She had expected him to get defensive, but he only seemed contemplative.
Eventually, he spoke.
"I.. I never realized," he said, sounding sad and confused. "Why did it take you this long to tell me that? Morgan, it's not my responsibility to drag stuff out of you, you could've told me that was how you felt. You should've known keeping things bottled up wouldn't work. If I had known back then, I would've changed it. I would've done everything I could to make this work."
He sighed and threw another pebble into the water. Morgan felt frozen. Hearing him voice his thoughts about their relationship was exciting and horrible, and yet she desperately needed to hear more.
He went on, and she could tell he was considering his words as carefully as her. "You're the one that let things stew until it boiled over instead of talking to me. Up until the end I thought everything between us was going great; I had no idea you were miserable."
She felt heat spread across her face at the accusation. She let things stew? Couldn't he see how unavailable he had made himself to her?
"And you don't think that's an issue?" she shot back. She was no longer weighing her words. "You had no idea your girlfriend, whom you saw almost every day of the week, was miserable? Dick, you were so stressed, you never noticed anything."
Distantly, she was aware that she was rambling, pouring out much more than she had initially wanted. Yet, she continued.
"I tried to instill some normalcy into the relationship, but you were constantly irritated with me for wanting to do stuff like go on dates. God forbid your girlfriend liked spending time with you."
"I was busy!" he countered, defensiveness leaking into his tone, "I was so stressed being the team leader after Kaldur left for the League, and you were demanding stuff from me that just wasn't possible!"
"Wanting to sit down and talk to each other for more than five minutes was demanding the impossible, was it? Dick, what we had wasn't a relationship, we were roommates who sometimes had sex!"
"We weren't roommates, remember?" His voice got dark, and his eyes flashed. "You were too scared to move in with me."
Morgan gaped at him. But she had nothing to say, because it was true. She had been scared to move in with him.
"Forget it," she mumbled. With stiff limbs and an aching behind, she stumbled into a standing position, intending to go sit next to Kaldur and M'gann. Anything to place some distance between them.
"Wait," he grabbed her wrist with a featherlight touch, and she halted. He got up, towering over her, and he squeezed her wrist. His face betrayed his regret. "I'm sorry. I don't know why we-"
"Why we keep escalating every time we talk?" she finished for him, and he offered her a resigned half-smile. She felt her temper calm, and the sight of his smile unfortunately made her heart flutter.
"Yeah."
"I think we never learned how not to. We spent the first six months we knew each other constantly fighting."
He groaned and threw his head back. "Not even supervillains actively trying to take over the world were as big of a pain in my ass as you back then."
Unable to help herself, she giggled out a laugh.
"I wasn't exactly wild about you either, bucko," she pointed out.
"You came around, though," he smirked. His gaze was blazing, and she felt hot all over.
She took a step back, seeking to get out of his intoxicating presence, and stuck her tongue out at him.
"You wore me down."
He studied her with warmth in his eyes.
"Thank you for sharing with me," he said. "It means a lot. I've – I've been wondering for a while."
Morgan nodded and stuck out a hand between them.
"Friends?"
He looked at the hand funnily, but grasped it and gave it a firm shake.
"Friends."
Hi friends, I'm back! We got home from Italy yesterday, although with all of the airport issues in the world currently, I wouldn't exactly call it an easy journey.
I had fully expected to find the time to upload a chapter after the last, and before the trip, to let y'all know I was going to be gone, but then we got busy with cleanup after my daughter's bday, and then packing for the trip. So I'm sorry for disappearing for nearly two weeks without an explanation.
To make up for it, have a massive chapter! 38 pages! A lot happened in this one! I hope you enjoyed it. I especially like the talk between the two of them at the end of the chapter. We're entering a new stage for their relationship in the story and I'm excited to get to it! Not to hype it up too much, but the next chapter is freaking adorable so get ready and don't forget to review!
I've been editing this chapter on my phone during our trip when I had a moment to myself - some of it while half asleep. And then the last chunk was on the bus on our way home from the airport, so I'm sorry for any potential mistakes. I tried to upload it via the app too but there was so much damn JANK that I just gave up. So hopefully there are no mistakes now that I'm on my computer.
As always, please don't forget to let me know what you think! Your reactions are what makes uploading worth it!