Chapter 20: Not that kind of Yoga Instructor

August 20th

Gotham

Morgan

"Breathe in… hold your pose and tuck in that butt!… aaaaaand breathe out. Good job!"

Morgan felt her arms start to shake from the plank the yoga instructor had made her stay in for at least a full minute. She was red in the face and her breath came out laboriously, but her stubbornness willed her to keep the pose up.

At the very least, these were online classes, and she was alone in her living room. No one was there to see her get short of breath from a medium-difficulty yoga class.

On her computer screen, the instructor finally allowed her to drop to the mat below and glide into the cobra, stretching out her back.

Morgan quickly followed, sighing with relief. Yoga was good for her – that's what she kept reminding herself of. It managed to combine her meditations, something she had increasingly less time for, and physical training. Two birds, one stone.

"From the cobra, slide back into a downward dog," said the instructor, and Morgan quickly got up on all fours, her butt sticking firmly up in the air.

There was no other possible moment but then, of course, for someone to start knocking on her window.

She looked between her stretched out legs and fell onto her stomach in horror at Dick watching her from the other side of the glass, giving her a strange look.

Morgan jumped up and paused the video. She'd already been red in the face from the exercise, but as she went over to the window to open it, she felt like her head might explode from how fierce her blush was. What did he want? And why now, when she was sweaty and gross and wearing nothing but a sports bra and a loose pair of shorts?

"What were you doing?" he asked casually as he jumped through her open window.

"Did you know I have a front door?" she retorted.

He threw his backpack onto one of her foldable chairs and approached the computer.

"Is this yoga?" He looked around her room, taking note of how the couch had been pushed back, and her coffee table moved against the wall, to make room for the mat she exercised on.

Morgan darted over and slammed the computer shut, feeling inexplicably mortified at the thought of him knowing she did online yoga classes. The man was insanely flexible, something she knew from personal experience. What she was doing was child's play compared to the stuff he practiced on the regular to keep up his skill.

"It's just, uuh – yeah, it's yoga. It's not easy for me to go to classes because my schedule is so all over the place you know, so this is, uh, how I manage to keep – keep going.." she was aware she was probably babbling. Her blush had been dying down, but at the sight of the slowly growing smile on his face, it returned. His eyes were shining with laughter, and he was flashing his pearly whites at her, which made her stutter.

"Why are you acting so embarrassed?" he questioned, his voice incredibly sincere.

She stopped to consider his question.

"I'm honestly not sure," she said, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Can I see one of the classes?" he eagerly asked.

"No thanks!" Morgan denied his request with ease, "You're a crazy good acrobat?"

"So?"

So," she ground out, "Imagine having to show Van Gogh one of your terrible, beginner scribbles, and tell me you wouldn't be embarrassed. That's what this feels like."

He was smiling that humorous smile again and tilted his head at her, "Aw, are you calling me the Van Gogh of acrobatics?"

She caught his eyes dart to her exposed midriff and she remembered she wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Anyway, what did you want?" she all but shouted and went to her bed to pick up the t-shirt she'd discarded earlier.

"C'mon, show me a class. I'll join in, it could be fun." He made to open her laptop, and she dashed forward to place a firm hand on top of his, fixing him with a stern look.

"Did you just come here to heckle me?" she asked, lips pressed into a determined line. "If so, I'd be happy to introduce you to my front door."

"But you're so fun to heckle," he teased, wagging his eyebrows at her. She bit back a retort, fixing him with an unimpressed look. They stood at a stalemate, bent over her closed laptop.

Dick sighed like she was being incredibly unfair.

"Okay, fine. I'll tell you why I came," she let out a sigh of relief. She was too quick to relax, however, when he smiled impishly at her and finished his sentence: "if you let me join one of your classes."

She narrowed her eyes at him. He narrowed his back, his lips fighting a losing battle against his smile.

"You're such an asshole."

He slapped a hand against his chest, much like he'd done on her birthday, and reared back as if he'd been hit.

"You wound me."

"Alright!" she sighed and opened her computer back up. "I only have one mat, so you'll have to use the floor."

"No problem.'' He sat down and eagerly took off his shoes and socks. Now, he was in a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, which allowed him full movement. Settling into the lotus style, he looked up at her with excitement, waiting for her to resume the video.

"It's medium difficulty," she warned him. "You'll be bored."

"That's okay. I just finished a session at the gym, I could use some light stretches."

Light stretches, she thought mockingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn't an unfit person – she trained several days a week. Her fitness was excellent. She still got breathless from these exercises – and he had the audacity to call them light stretches?

She had run out of protests and caveats, and so, sighing in defeat, Morgan opened her computer and hit the play button on the video.

A few minutes later, she was doing her best to keep her breath neutral. She was staunchly ignoring the human noodle beside her, who seemed like he could've been doing this in his sleep.

"Stretch your legs as far as they can go. If you're able, drop into a front split," the instructor told her in a serene voice, and Morgan dropped down, slowly. She was proud that she almost succeeded in a full split, an achievement she'd been working on for a few weeks by now.

Then, she chanced a look to her side and saw Dick in what could only be described as a double split. His legs were not only stretched out in a one-eighty degree angle, but he'd grabbed onto the leg in front of him and pulled up until it was flush with his body, the calf pressed to his ear.

How?

"Show-off!" she cried, almost losing her balance.

"What?" He looked at her with wide eyes, the picture of innocence. "She told us to stretch as far as we could go!"

She groaned in annoyance and broke out of her almost split when her thighs started aching too much from the pressure.

Quickly following the video, Morgan got into a standing position. She attempted the Bird of Paradise pose, feeling her entire body wobble as she strained to keep her balance on one foot. Dick continued to appear unbothered as he got into the pose, looking as steady as ever.

"Jump into Downward Facing Dog," the video bade her. Morgan followed the instructions.

"Stretch your left leg as high as it can go into the Three-legged Dog."

She looked at Dick for a moment, eyes unable to not trace the way the muscles on his tan arms bulged and tightened as he leaned his weight onto them.

"If you're able, do a handstand."

Morgan knew she was not able – if for no other reason, then because her wings greatly altered her point of balance, making it next to impossible to balance on her hands unless she stood against a wall. She got back into her neutral lotus position as she waited for the exercise to be over.

Dick, of course, wasted no time in getting into a handstand. His long body stretched until his feet almost touched her ceiling, and his shirt fell down, pooling around his face and hiding it from view.

Morgan felt her blood pressure spike at the sight suddenly presented before her. It wasn't like it was something new – she had seen Dick without a shirt countless times. She'd seen him fully nude countless times. She knew every inch of his body.

And yet..

Well, he'd certainly packed on a lot of muscle since she'd last seen him like this, hadn't he? He had said he'd grown out of his old suit because he'd been going to the gym a lot more but this..

Gone was the leanness of a teenager's body, replaced by that of a young man who had finished growing. Hard, defined muscle spanned across smooth, tan skin. Her eyes unconsciously traced the marks she knew well – scars and birthmarks that she'd seen many times before. Lines of stitches where he'd needed sowing together, and round, irregular bumps where he'd been stabbed or even shot. Evidence of a hard life. But the energy she saw in him, the strength and vigor he oozed, proved that hard life hadn't quelled his spirit. She swallowed dryly, feeling heat rush into her chest and low in her stomach. It was easier to not think about when he was in his suit or civilian clothes, but when she was being presented with such an uncensored view, she wouldn't deny that she missed having access to all.. that.

As he moved around, his muscles shifted, and Morgan grabbed the bottle of water she had beside her to wet her dry mouth. The instructor on the video was introducing the next move, but she was no longer listening. He got up to balance on only one arm, and the way the muscles in his bicep and chest flexed almost made her let out a moan. She quickly drowned it with more water, seconds away from slapping her own face to pull herself together.

It was only natural, right? After all, she was an adult with needs. She hadn't had sex for eight months. She wasn't being gross for admitting that she missed that, nor was she creepy for checking him out when he so readily presented himself to her.

With an air of perfect grace and ease, he landed back on his feet.

"You don't look even slightly out of breath," she said, watching with awe as he sat back down.

"Actually, I'm feeling a bit sweaty, maybe I should take this off." He grabbed the hem of his shirt and she almost yelped.

"You better keep that shirt on, Grayson!" She was seconds away from pelting him with her water bottle.

Dick started laughing at her and she realized he must've known she had been checking him out. Dammit, she had been sure his face was hidden behind his shirt.

"I'm joking. You just didn't seem to mind." The look he gave her was smoldering, the joking mood he'd been in suddenly melting away into something more dangerous.

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, and pawed desperately for her water bottle once more, taking a long sip.

Was he flirting with her? The blush reaching the tips of her ears told her yes, but the reasonable part of her brain assured her it wasn't so. Dick often acted like a carefree guy – when he wasn't being leader of the Team. She knew plenty of girls at school who'd mistaken his friendliness for flirting, and had their hopes squashed as a result.

She wasn't going to be one of those girls. They'd finally agreed to be friends – she wasn't going to ruin that by reading into things that weren't there. Besides, hadn't she broken up with him for a reason? And weren't those reasons still valid?

No, the safe thing for her to do would be to focus on the video in front of her and resume her exercises.

The instructor asked them to plank once more, and Morgan quickly got into position.

She heard Dick let out a long suffering sigh, but she kept her focus firmly ahead. What had he wanted her to say? Praise him for looking heartachingly, mouthwateringly perfect? Admit that her horny ass wanted to push him onto her bed and perform unspeakable acts on him until he was nothing but a moaning mess in her hands?

Her thoughts ran off with her and she desperately tried to claw her focus back onto the lesson.

One thing was for certain – she was never letting him join another of her classes again.

The instructor bid her balance on her left side and point her right hand at the ceiling. To her dismay, Dick had done the move in the reverse, and they were now facing each other.

"Does my bare chest really bother you that much?" he asked, somehow managing to look perfectly clueless. A ruse.

Was he trying to rile her up on purpose? Why should his bare skin bother her? She'd seen all of him! For a second, she thought about making him uncomfortable right back. She wanted to remind him that she'd probably seen certain parts of his naked body more times than he had, but she realized that wasn't a conversation they were ready for.

"Focus on the yoga or get out," she firmly said instead, focusing on a spot on the wall behind his head. She wasn't going to let him get under her skin, though she didn't understand what his endgame was. What would he get out of her admitting she thought he was hot? He knew he was! He didn't need her to tell him!

Back into a plank. Stretch the left hand to the ceiling this time. Breathe deeply in. Exhale.

She closed her eyes and followed the instructions, happy that Dick finally shut up and just did the yoga.

Ten minutes later, the class was over. Her nerves had somewhat settled, helped greatly by Dick behaving himself for the remainder of the session.

"Okay, you got to join," she said as she rolled up her mat and stuffed it under the couch, which Dick had pushed back into place. "Tell me what you're here for."

He sat on her couch with an air of satisfaction that he'd gotten his way and put his feet onto the coffee table.

"I wanted to talk to you about the rifts."

Morgan blinked. That was all?

"That sounds like it could've been a phone call. Maybe even an email."

"Can't a guy drop in on a friend to hang out a bit?" He still wore that artificial look of innocence. She wanted to tell him no, because even though they were friends, they were also exes and she had to assume there were rules about this type of thing. Right? But Dick had such a great relationship with all his exes, maybe he didn't think there was anything weird about it? She decided to play along instead of digging deeper.

"Fine, tell me what's on your mind about the rifts."

He looked at her strangely. "Doesn't it worry you that we haven't seen a big one in over a month? We had three within weeks of each other and then nothing?"

"Actually, I decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth and enjoy the goddamn peace for once."

Looking displeased, he pressed his lips together at her. "You could worry more."

She opened her mouth, looking offended at him. "I feel like all I do is worry."

He considered her and tilted his head in acceptance. "That's true. But you tend to worry about the wrong things."

She furrowed her brows at him and drew her legs up onto the couch, wrapping her arms around them. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sat silently for a minute, studying her like he was weighing whether to voice his thoughts, or tell her to forget what he'd said.

She raised her eyebrows at him to indicate she wasn't about to let him back out now.

Dick sighed and smoothed his fingers over his brow with closed eyes.

"You worry too much about meeting others' expectations. You decide everyone has some secret expectation that you have to meet to be considered worth their time, and if you disappoint them, they'll freeze you out."

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him in affront. Her first instinct was to very firmly deny the judgment he'd just cast on her. Where did he get the audacity to say something like that?

And yet, the core truth of what he'd just said made her unable to deny it. He'd hit the nail on the head, unfortunately, and she was struck by the reminder of how well he knew her.

Time to deflect.

"And what about you?" she shot back, squirming from how uncomfortable it felt to have her insecurities laid bare before her by someone else. "Like you're not desperately trying to live up to Bruce's legacy every waking second. You're constantly terrified of being him, but you agonize over all the ways you're not."

It was Dick's time to look at her with a gaping mouth. Had they really been quietly doing yoga minutes ago? How had they ended up in this conversation so fast?

"How-?"

She sent him an unimpressed look. "How did I know that? You were my mentor, weren't you? You don't think it was obvious how much you beat yourself up over every little thing you thought he had been better at?" She started rattling off thoughts she'd had for years, but which she hadn't expected she would ever share with him. But perhaps because he'd so easily nailed her, laid her deepest insecurity out in the open, she felt vulnerable and bruised. If he could so easily ply her open and present her own subconscious thoughts to her, why couldn't she do the same?

She realized they were both hypocrites in that way. They both seemed to see each other and perceive the other's struggles and thoughts with more clarity than their own.

"Why else were you constantly keeping me at arm's length? Why else did you freak the fuck out when you developed feelings for me, and started acting like a frantic idiot about it? Why else did you kiss me and then ghost me for a week afterwards?"

Dick's face was dark, and he seemed unable to meet her gaze. Guilt pooled into her stomach. She hadn't meant to dredge up the past like that. She knew he carried a lot of guilt over the way he'd acted during the first baby steps of what would later become their relationship. She understood that it had been difficult for him, and she'd forgiven him for being so weird about it a long time ago.

She sat with a clenched jaw, agonizing in the silence that followed her attack. He'd poked at a single insecurity she carried, and she'd responded by dropping the equivalent of an atomic bomb on him.

"Shit, Dick, I'm sorry." She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face.

"No, you're.. you're right." His voice was low, and he leaned his elbows onto his knees and his face into his hands, before running his fingers through his hair.

She scooted closer, a hand hovering with uncertainty by his shoulder.

"That doesn't give me the right to be an asshole about it," she murmured. She found the courage to place her hand on his back, and she stroked lightly up and down his spine. She felt him initially tense beneath her touch, but he soon relaxed.

"We did it again," he said, huffing out a small laugh. "We can't stop escalating whenever we talk."

Morgan grimaced. "I think maybe the escalation isn't so much of a problem, if we practice deescalating afterwards."

He turned slowly to look at her with a resigned smile. All of the energy he'd carried when he'd arrived seemed to have seeped out of him.

"I can't tell if we're hopeless," he said, and some deep note in the way he'd said it let her know he might've meant it in more ways than she understood.

She sent him an impish smile, desperately trying to lift his mood. She shifted closer and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, leaning her head on top of his.

"Arguably yes, but I wouldn't give up completely yet."

Dick sighed and reached a hand over to squeeze her knee. They sat for a long while like that, and Morgan scrambled to remember how she usually behaved, when she was good friends with a guy. She had the feeling this wasn't exactly it. It usually involved fewer deep conversations and a lot less touching.

She was sure it was fine.

Dick straightened and sat back against the couch, and because she still had her arm around his shoulders, she found herself pulled close to his side, their faces barely an inch apart.

Her eyes widened, but Dick looked completely unbothered as he gazed back at her with hooded eyes. Butterflies erupted in her stomach and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she would be wise to move. Dick shifted ever so slightly and the move made his nose brush against hers. She held her breath but stayed rooted where she was, transfixed by his eyes.

BOOM!

The two of them jumped apart as the entire building shook. A picture fell off her wall and the glasses in her cupboard rattled.

"What was that?" she said once she had regained her bearings. Dick was already by her window, looking out with an intense frown. Outside, they could see smoke rising over the rooftops across from her building. An explosion had gone off. Why? He leaned over and dug around in his backpack, pulling out his Justice League phone.

"Shit, I have three missed calls from Batman."

Morgan jumped over the back of the couch and into the kitchen where her own JL phone lay by the sink.

"I have one from Aquaman," she said, looking at him with wide eyes.

Dick pressed his lips together and looked at her with resolution.

"Time to suit up."

They wasted no time – not even to give each other privacy as they stripped to their underwear and pulled their suits on. She was sure under different circumstances, it would've been awkward - potentially loaded. But the deafening boom of another explosion outside kept their focus on the task that lay ahead.

"You just had to jinx it," she joked.

Dick didn't respond, but threw an earpiece at her, which she readily caught.

"Let's go."

"Should we try and find the others? I assume they'll be out too," she asked as the two of them crawled out onto the fire escape. Nightwing motioned for them to hit the street, and she agreed that traveling by rooftop was a bad idea when bombs were flying around.

The streets were chaotic. Pedestrians were running to escape whatever was attacking the city. Sparrow could hear sirens and screaming, and the acrid smell of smoke tickled her nose.

Nightwing pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Batman, are you there? Robin, Red Robin? Oracle?"

"We're here." Morgan heard Barbara's voice through the earpiece. "Where have you been? Batman's tried to get in contact with you for twenty minutes!"

"What's going on?" Nightwing demanded, instead of answering her question. The two of them were running down a thin alley between two apartment buildings, heading in the direction of the first explosion.

"See for yourself," Oracle responded. "You're right on top of them."

The streets opened up in front of them, revealing pandemonium. One building across from the large road was crumbling, and the smoke rising made it clear this was where the explosion had initially gone off. Sparrow's eyes tracked movement above, and she watched as several yellow-clad humanoids flew around. One produced a large, yellow hammer out of thin air and brought it down, smashing through the outer wall of the building directly above them.

"Is that-?"

"Yellow Lanterns," Nightwing bit out, following them with his steely gaze. His jaw muscles clenched, and he sunk into a vigilant stance at the sight of them.

"They've launched an attack on several major cities. All of the League's been deployed. And I sent out the Team as well. They came out of nowhere."

As the Lantern brought the hammer back down again into the slowly crumbling building, a section of the upper floor broke off, heading straight for them. Sparrow and Nightwing dove to their respective sides, avoiding getting crushed by a hair's width.

Sparrow beat her wings and jumped over the rubble, landing by his side again. The two of them slunk back into the alley, studying the Lanterns. They were all humanoid, but clearly alien. One was a stocky man with a gray beard on top of bright, red skin. He was talking to what would've looked like a regular human woman with smooth, brown hair, had she not had a wide, lipless mouth with long, sharp teeth. Her eyes were blazing with hate. The one busily destroying a building with the giant hammer was a tall, muscular alien with blank, white eyes, a bald head and cool, green-blue skin.

Sparrow could see only the three of them – how to best engage? Adrenaline coursed through her body, and she jittered where she stood, preparing for the inevitable battle that lay ahead.

Another blow with the hammer, and more debris fell to the ground.

"We need to stop them before they wreck this entire street!"

Nightwing spoke into his earpiece again. "How many are there across the city? I'm counting three here."

"Batman and Robin are fighting two by the harbor. Red Robin is fighting one in the Narrows. Do you need backup?"

"Negative," he said, looking at Morgan. "Sparrow is with me. We've got it covered."

She gave him a smile at the vote of confidence, which he readily returned.

"Oh," Morgan could hear Barbara's surprise. "I'll send the others your way if they finish up first. Good luck."

"Are you sure?" Sparrow asked, once the call with Oracle was over. "Lanterns are powerful."

"So are we," he responded, grasping her shoulder and looking at her with intent. "I just need to get close to them one by one – I can circumvent their armor and bring them down. You need to keep the others distracted so they don't realize what's going on."

She nodded her head in understanding, though her heart was in her throat – she had to engage two Yellow Lanterns at once – and preferably without getting flattened? She'd fought many enemies before, but Lanterns were definitely up there with some of the more powerful ones.

"Don't be afraid – they gain power from your fear."

"Oh, you make it sound so easy," she admonished, but still made to fly off. "I'll try to keep close to the rooftops so you can get to 'em."

"Morgan," he grabbed her hand before she could fly off and they locked eyes for a second. "Be careful."

She smirked at him, her impish look spelling trouble. "Never am."

She was sure, if she'd stuck around, she would've been subjected to one of his long-suffering sighs. But she had already flown up and cleared the building. The Yellow Lanterns had gathered close together, exchanging words. Good – easier to get all of their attention at once. They were facing away from her and hadn't noticed her yet.

Telekinetically, she grabbed a big piece of rubble from the wrecked building and flung it at them. The brick wall hit them like a freight train and sent them all crashing to the street. They hit the concrete with force, denting the road. The wall she'd thrown at them landed on top of the Lanterns and buried them, kicking dust and dirt into the air.

"Hey assholes!" she called, swooping down towards the pile of bricks she'd buried them under. "Stop destroying my city!"

A giant, yellow fist blew the rubble apart, and the three Lanterns emerged, looking furious.

"League scum!" the crimson alien seethed. "Get her!"

As one, the three Lanterns barreled towards her, and Sparrow quickly flew out of the way. The woman threw her arm out, and sharp, yellow spikes flew towards her. Sparrow folded her wings together and spun, dropping like a stone. The yellow spikes missed and embedded into the building behind her.

The Lanterns were talented flyers. Certainly they were faster than her because they didn't need to rely on their physicality, but the maneuverability her wings offered her surpassed theirs, and she knew she'd have to rely on that. The skies were her domain, and they'd be fools to try and take her down up here.

Looking behind her, she used telekinesis to blast the blue-skinned man back onto the street. She saw Nightwing materialize practically out of nowhere to engage him in combat.

Good – one down, two to go.

She didn't watch how he was doing – she knew Nightwing would take the Lantern out without issue. She risked the other Lanterns spotting him if she drew their attention that way, so instead, she flew straight up.

"Come and get me!" she hollered, hoping her voice conveyed more confidence than she necessarily felt. She used her telekinesis to knock them off balance, hoping to anger them into doing something stupid.

"Meta bitch!" the woman hissed with a chilling voice. The two Lanterns split up, approaching her from opposite sides. With a pounding heart, she hovered in the air for a second, allowing them to get closer. The red-skinned alien conjured a large fist again, and the woman produced more spikes. She had to time this perfectly…

Aaaaand.. now!

Morgan dropped from the skies at the last possible second. The two Lanterns, so furious they'd forgotten to keep stock of each other, had no time to react. They collided with force, letting out shouts of surprise. The disoriented and hurt Lanterns crashed to the ground below once more. She followed them, her success in the air lending her what was perhaps overconfidence.

Nightwing had knocked out the first alien, and he ran towards the man, escrima sticks flashing in the sun. The alien saw Nightwing approach and got on his feet. He tried to keep the hero away by throwing an armada of yellow weapons at him, all of which Nightwing dodged with ease. He somersaulted over a yellow sword flying towards him, landing on top of another sword, and ran along it. Reaching the alien, he jumped and brought his escrima sticks down upon him. The man produced two short swords and blocked Nightwing's attack. They danced a deadly dance, the alien swinging his swords furiously at the hero, but Nightwing was too fast for any blow to land.

Meanwhile, Sparrow was busy holding off the female Lantern. She sent volley upon volley of spikes at her, and it took all of Morgan's concentration to hold them back with a telekinetic force field. The shards shattered against her shield, but the woman drew ever closer. Sweat erupted on Sparrow's brow, but she kept her strong stance. The woman's black eyes blazed with fury, and she looked around, realizing she was getting nowhere with the winged hero.

Her eyes went past Sparrow's form, zeroing in on the two men fighting further down the street.

Sparrow realized the woman's hateful plan a second before the alien jumped into the air again, sending what must've been a hundred shards in Nightwing's direction.

She flew up and telekinetically pushed the alien away, who let out a grunt from the hit. The force of it sent her crashing clean through the outer wall of a building further down the street.

The yellow shards had already been released, however. Morgan chased towards the fighting pair ahead, trying to grab a mental hold on the spikes. She managed to stop a great number of them, but others evaded her. There were simply too many.

"Nightwing, watch out!" she shouted.

Nightwing and the male alien both turned at her warning and saw the volley of spikes flying towards them. They broke apart and fought off the new attack individually. Nightwing somersaulted out of the way and used his escrima sticks to block several spikes, which all shattered upon impact.

Morgan chased after the shards, heading straight for the Yellow Lantern. With her booted feet first, she crashed into his face, knocking him onto his back.

He let out a wet cough and Sparrow realized one of the shards had found its mark – right in his chest. Horror seized her insides at the sight. She dropped onto her knees and beheld the damage. The alien had grown pale, his skin rapidly turning a sickly pink. His alien blood oozed thickly from the wound.

"Nightwing, he's hurt!" she cried for him to come over, and he approached quickly. The alien coughed again, and green blood leaked out of his mouth.

Nightwing looked grimly at the man as he wheezed for breath. How could his own teammate have done this to him?

A grim, cold laughter echoed down the street. It sent a chill up her spine, and Sparrow turned to watch as the woman came flying towards them, hands poised to land another blow. Behind her flew hundreds and hundreds of spikes, ready to finish what she had started.

"She really needs to find a new schtick," Sparrow grumbled, turning to stand with her feet firmly planted. She held her hands out to her sides and began building a new telekinetic shield. Her arms shook, straining under the mental and physical fortitude building such a large shield required.

"At least she's predictable," Nightwing said as he stood watching their approaching enemy.

As she got closer, the woman started pelting them with shards, but they all broke upon the shield Morgan had put up, crashing and falling like waves against a rocky cliffside.

Nightwing pulled a small explosive out of his pocket and lobbed it like a baseball at the woman the second she came within reach.

It seemed to make her mad more than anything else. She sped up, heading straight for Sparrow's shield. Was she stupid? Hadn't she seen how everything she'd thrown at them was useless against the barrier? Didn't she realize she would be flattened, like a bug on a windshield?

The woman let out an angry scream and conjured a giant spear in front of her. She had almost reached them. Sparrow took a deep breath and prepared herself.

Collision.

Morgan gasped when it felt like the Lantern had hit her instead of the shield, and she was thrown back by the sheer force of the clash. The strength of the woman's spear shattered the barrier like glass.

"Sparrow!" Nightwing cried as she flew back. He pulled out his escrima sticks again and ran straight for the Yellow Lantern.

Sparrow landed on her back with a grunt, all air knocked from her lungs.

Stars were swimming in front of her eyes, but she knew she didn't have time to lie there. She crawled onto her knees, wheezing for air to enter her lungs again. She watched as Nightwing engaged the woman in battle, his moves so quick she was left scrambling to keep up.

The fight lasted for all of twenty seconds before he brought his escrima sticks down on the exposed flesh of her neck and let out an electrical charge. The alien screamed and convulsed before falling to the ground in a heap. The shattered yellow shards that littered the ground disappeared as the woman lost consciousness.

Having regained her bearings, Sparrow hurried to Nightwing's side, looking cautiously at the Lantern at their feet. The two heroes exchanged looks through their labored breathing. The street grew quiet as the fight was suddenly over.

"Why didn't you lead with that?" she asked, poking a foot at the unresponsive alien. Her voice came out in a wheeze and her wings were groaning in pain from her hard fall, which they had taken the brunt of.

"I did say to distract them so I could take them on one-by-one," he reminded her, though not angrily.

"Should we radio in?"

Nightwing pressed a hand to his ear. He looked at the downed Lanterns one by one as he spoke.

"Oracle, we're wrapping up here. Have someone come get-" Morgan watched as his eyes widened at something behind her, and he leapt forward, pulling her roughly to the side, "-Sparrow look ou- ugh!"

Morgan whirled around and saw that the red alien had regained his bearings enough to conjure his own spear, and he had thrown it straight at her. Had Dick not pulled her out of the way, it would've pierced right through her.

Adrenaline made her jump, and she acted instinctively with a desire to neutralize the threat. Rushing several paces towards the Lantern, she threw a telekinetic blast at him that sent him flying back into a wall. He didn't get back up.

She turned towards Nightwing and felt a shuddering gasp leave her at the sight of him.

He stood swaying on his feet, looking almost casually at the yellow spear lodged deeply into the flesh of his torso. Blood started to ooze, thick and red, dripping onto the road.

"Dick?" she asked with a shaky voice, approaching him on suddenly wobbly legs.

"Ouch." His voice was breathless. His face started draining color and she darted the last few steps to his side, to support him as he made to sit down. His brow was drawn, and he let out hissing breaths as he worked to manage the pain. She was sure it would've been overwhelming if he had been someone less trained.

In her ear, Morgan heard the worried voice of Oracle.

"What's going on?"

She pressed a trembling hand to her ear. "Dick - I mean Nightwing. He-he's hurt."

"I'm sending someone immediately."

"Ugh, Batman is going to kill me for this," he groaned as he slowly lay down in the middle of the road. Morgan looked around desperately, as if an ambulance would manifest at that exact moment if only she wished it enough. But the street was empty, except for the three lanterns and the piles of rubble they'd left behind. She scooted closer and propped him up, placing his head in her lap so he wasn't lying on the hard, dirty asphalt.

"Do-do I need to take it out?" she asked, voice unsteady. She looked at the spike, jittering nervously at the thought. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Not this – not him. Anyone but him. He coughed wetly and her body trembled with fear. All of the training she had went out the window. She couldn't remember what she was supposed to do or how she was supposed to react to a teammate getting hurt. Not when it was him. She could never stay professional when it was him.

"Leave it in, it's the only thing stopping me from bleeding out." He closed his eyes and she watched as his Adam's apple bopped up and down when he swallowed dryly. His lips parted in a shaky breath and he seemed to be holding in the need to squirm from the pain.

"Why di-id you do that?" her hands took on a mind of their own as they started stroking at his hair and his face.

He frowned and opened his eyes a sliver, peeking at her.

"Was I supposed to let you get shanked?"

"You got hurt!" she cried instead of answering. She felt her eyes well up with tears.

"Morgan," he grabbed her hand in his and held it firmly to stop her frantic movements. "I will always want to protect you above all else. I can't help it."

"Not at the cost of your own life!" She managed to hold back a sob, but the first tear fell down her cheek.

His frown deepened. "I'm not dying," he said, and somehow managed to bark out a laugh. She felt relief at his reassurance, because indeed, that was what she'd been afraid of. "I'm probably going to faint in a minute, though."

He reached up and started wiping her tears away and she felt incredibly guilty that he was taking the time to comfort her when he was the one that had gotten hurt. She bowed her head, feeling like a child.

"Okay, you need to listen up," he grabbed her chin and gently pulled her head up, so she looked at him. "Batman doesn't handle it very well when I get hurt, and there's a big chance he's going to blame you. He might even lash out. Don't listen to him – this wasn't your fault. After all, I was the one that jinxed it, remember?"

She watched the feeble way he breathed and noticed his grip on her hand had greatly loosened as he grew weaker.

Where was that backup!

"Do you understand?" he pressed. His eyes were unfocused.

"Yes," she whispered, her insides squeezing horribly.

"Good girl." He closed his eyes again and let his hand drop from her face. Her stomach did a stupid little somersault at the words. "I'm going to sleep now. Sorry to leave you alone. It'll be fine, I promise."

She wanted to shout at him to stop comforting her when he was the hurt one, but she held her tongue because she was sure she would've done the exact same.

"How do you know that?" she asked in a weak voice but he didn't answer. She used her teeth to rip off the glove she had on and pressed her fingers to his neck so she could feel his pulse. It was still going strong, but she watched the wound with worried eyes as blood kept soaking into his suit and onto the ground.

Why had he done that? Didn't he know how important he was? How valuable he was to the Team and the League?

To her?

She resumed her methodical stroking of his hair, feeling so alone as she sat waiting for someone to arrive. She wanted to ask Barbara when help was coming, but she didn't trust her own voice.

Her ears picked up a loud engine revving angrily close by, and she looked up to see the Batmobile rush down the street at a worrying speed. She hurriedly wiped her tears away and tried to smooth out the agony she was sure was visible on her face.

It skidded to a halt right beside them. The car had barely stopped moving before Batman jumped out of it, marching towards them with intent. He looked furious, and she was sure the fury was a distraction from his worry.

"He fainted a few minutes ago," she said, clearing her throat to get rid of the choked-up quality to it.

He got on his knees and pulled Nightwing into his arms, barely deigning her worthy of a look. The weight of Dick's head in her lap was removed and she felt cold without it.

Morgan got the distinct feeling he would leave her behind if she didn't keep up. He'd made no move to indicate she should follow, but she would be damned if she let him drive off without her. She quickly got on her feet and was right on his heels. He tilted the passenger seat back as far as it could go and gently strapped Dick in. Morgan made to get into the backseat, but he placed a hand on the door before she could.

"You don't need to come."

She glared at him. "Like hell I'm not. You can leave me here, but it wouldn't matter – I know how to get into the Batcave. He taught me."

He curled his lips and regarded her like she was a glass of sour milk he'd just been tricked into drinking from.

"The longer we stay here and argue, the more blood he loses." She squared her jaw and looked at him with stiff eyes. He strengthened his glare even further.

Then, something happened that she'd never seen before.

Batman backed down.

"Get in," he said through clenched teeth, before jumping behind the wheel once more.

She readily got into the back and strapped herself in. Because Dick's seat was tilted so far back, he was almost next to her. She resisted the urge to grab his hand, knowing it would only piss off Batman even further. She could feel his glare on her through the rearview mirror and she staunchly ignored it, keeping her focus on the passed-out man beside her.

He'd said he'd be fine, she reminded herself. She wasn't sure if she succeeded in convincing herself, though.

You'd better keep that promise, Grayson.

This chapter is sponsored by me attending yoga classes with my sister last year and she was HEATED because I was much more flexible despite not training.

I love the tonal shift in this one single scene. We go from lighthearted, horny shenanigans to deep conversation to a heart wrenching moment in no time. The way Dick occupies her mind/the narrative in this chapter kinda fascinates me too. That he starts out so lighthearted and occupies this very ALIVE and joking space. And then half an hour later he's actively bleeding out, but he still manages to be her light through the whole thing.

I've been trying to keep fights in the story a little less descriptive because I feel like it can get a little boring to read. This one is maybe the only one where I didn't do that, so I'm sorry if it drags a bit. I got carried away, I think. I guess I wanted to add weight to the emotional moment at the end!

Also when Dick said "I will always want to protect you above all else. I can't help it." I FELT it. I said he was in his wooing era and he's NOT being subtle about it. It's a shame all of it is like water off a duck's back with Morgan because she's got herself SO convinced they're just friends. I love writing this dynamic so much where character A is in a relationship with Character B, but B hasn't realized it yet lol.

Anyway enough of me gassing myself up..

In a few chapters, we're hitting a part of the story where I had a LOT of musical inspiration. There are entire moments in the story that are so heavily influenced, or even based on, specific songs I used to listen to as I planned out the plotlines and scenes. As we hit these scenes, I'm going to add music recs in my authors notes at the end of the chapters. Some of them really, really add to the story and add some real depth to the emotion or mood of scenes and characters, so I recommend giving them a listen either while reading, or as a fun little behind the scenes moment!

As usual, let me know what you think!