Chapter 25: Lost
September 12th
Gotham
Nightwing
Dick sat staring at the unconscious girl in front of him. She'd been out for longer than he and Tim, and he worried she'd hit her head on something. The inhibitor collar was back around her throat, though Dick had to assume it was a new one, since the other had been blown to smithereens.
They were all tied up, with their backs pressed against thick, metal beams. Tim sat next to Dick, and Morgan had been placed across from them, the three of them forming a little triangle. He could feel a burning sensation in his chest and throat from the smoke they'd inhaled in the warehouse. Were they still at the warehouse, or had they been moved while they were out? The room they were in matched the run-down, rough style of the warehouse, and the flickering light from outside bathed the room in a similar, dimly lit glow. He could only assume they were still at the warehouse, then.
He twisted his wrists once more against the tight binds, feeling for some way out of them. If only Jason hadn't taken the small knife Dick always had concealed in his sleeve, for situations precisely like this. Worse than the bonds around his wrists was the thin, sharp wire wrapped like a noose around his throat, identical to the ones around Tim and Morgan's throats.
Morgan's foot twitched and she heaved a deep breath – no doubt she felt the sting from the smoke just as he did. But at least, she was finally waking up.
"Oh, thank god you're awake," he said, the relief he felt made him release a sigh as he spoke. Sparrow became more alert, sitting up straight. Her eyes seemed to rove over the room, first at him and Tim, and then at the wires around their throats, and their path up the beams they sat against. The wires all connected in a complicated system of gears and wire above them, and every time any of them breathed too deeply or moved their heads, the gears shifted ominously, agitating the wires around their throats.
"You guys okay?" she asked, her voice raspy and strained from the smoke she had breathed.
"Alive," Tim said, sounding annoyed. He hadn't hesitated to launch into a long complaint about Jason outsmarting them the moment he and Dick had woken up several minutes earlier. Tim had a gash in his eyebrow and Dick was sure it hurt - the source of Tim's bad mood.
"You were out for a while," Dick said, his eyes taking her in as if he had x-ray vision that could reveal any damage to him. She didn't appear out of it – which hopefully meant no concussion.
"I'm fine," Morgan instantly insisted, which he had expected her to. He was unsure if he had ever heard her sincerely admit she wasn't alright.
"What's this?" she looked at the wires pointedly.
"Some sadistic idea Red Hood cooked up," Tim said, still with an air of annoyance. "When any of us move, the wires constrict, choking all of us. I assume he thinks it'll make it harder for us to escape. Or that we'll at least get tortured a little bit if we try."
"Great," she groaned, leaning her head back slowly as to not agitate the wire-system, closing her eyes. "Not the choking fantasy I had in mind."
Dick cleared his throat, his eyes shining with curiosity. "What choking fantasy did you have in mind then?"
"Don't you two start," Tim pleaded. "This is bad enough as it is."
"I mean, we can get out, right?" Sparrow asked.
The two of them looked anywhere but at her. She raised an eyebrow, looking entirely unimpressed.
"Right?"
"Jason stripped us of all our gadgets. I don't have anything to break free with," Dick admitted.
"That's the problem with a former bat switching sides. They know all the tricks," Tim sighed. "Bastard."
"Well, Batman is on his way, right? He was our backup," Morgan reminded them. She looked like she expected Batman and Robin to materialize in the shadows any moment now.
Dick and Tim looked at each other with a grimace, an exchange that really didn't inspire confidence in her.
"So, right after you lost your earpiece, Mister Freeze showed up at the mayor's office and started blasting people with his freeze ray," Tim haltingly revealed.
"Batman and Robin were taken off this mission to go deal with that. They might be back later – but we don't know when. Since none of us have our comms anymore," Dick explained what she had been unaware of. He would've pinched his nose if he could. Goddamn Gotham and all its rogues. Instead, he shot her an apologetic look.
Morgan sighed deeply, "Great."
"We'll figure something out." Dick attempted to sound encouraging but it came out a little feeble. "Jason is good at tying knots, but I'm better at breaking out of them." He twisted his hands around again for good measure, trying his best to get a good feel of the knot.
As if summoned by his name, the door was thrown open, and Red Hood strode in with long, confident strides. Two masked men entered behind him, armed to their teeth.
Dick and Tim leveled identical glares at him.
"Nightwing, Red Robin," he nodded casually at Dick and Tim and then looked at Morgan. "Sparrow."
Morgan started straining against the ties around her hands. She moved her head too fast, and the wires tightened. Dick felt the thin wire cut into his throat, removing all flow of air and surely cutting into his skin. He and Tim both let out involuntary, guttural sounds and Morgan froze when she realized her movement had been the cause. As she stilled and straightened again, Dick felt the wire relax around his windpipe, and he sucked in a deep breath.
"There was never actually a bomb in her collar, was there?" Dick asked darkly, getting right to the point.
Jason scoffed. "The collar was just the trigger. It was designed to set off the actual bomb the moment you deactivated it." He crouched down so he was at eye level with Dick, who glared back at him without fear. "I obviously knew you'd be there to play the hero – did you really think I'd be stupid enough to tell you exactly where the explosives were?"
He hated that Jason had gotten the best of them – he blamed himself and his attachment. He had been so terrified for Morgan once that collar had been put on her that he hadn't been thinking straight, and now he couldn't help but think that he should've seen the trick for what it was. Part of him also wondered if perhaps he'd underestimated Jason's hatred. Perhaps, he still didn't truly believe someone who had once been Robin, who had trained under Bruce, who had been on the Team with Dick, would actually betray him.
With the red helmet staring down at him, Dick felt that his own face was all the more exposed. Neither he nor Tim had worn masks beneath their helmets, not expecting them to ever have a reason to remove them. Another stupid miscalculation.
"But you know you guys aren't the real prize," Jason said casually, rising back to his full height and walking past the three bound heroes on the floor. He looked out the iron wrought window, his voice low, but missing none of the intensity. "He'll be here to bust you out at some point. And then I'll exterminate Batman and all of his sidekicks in one night."
"Technically, I'm not part of their group, so I really should be left out of this." Morgan managed it to make her voice casual, slipping into her laid-back, Sparrow persona like a well-worn shirt. Dick could tell she was nervous, though, because she did what she always did when her nerves got the better of her; she started rambling. "I mean, I guess you could technically call Batman my superhero-granddad, but I don't identify as a bat."
Dick and Tim stared at her with incredulity, and she snapped her mouth shut before doing her best attempt at a shrug, her face the picture of innocence.
Red Hood looked at her, and despite the helmet concealing his face, the annoyance was plain to read – it was rolling off him.
"You," he pointed at one of the men that had followed him into the room, "Go find something to muzzle her with before I shoot her."
The guy slipped out of the room immediately as Red Hood went to stand in front of Morgan, making a big show of loading his gun. Dick felt himself strain against his ties with renewed fervor, as adrenaline mixed with fear in his blood. He didn't care about the wire once more tightening around his throat as he struggled.
"Don't touch her," he growled, and his voice was so low and rumbling; he almost sounded like Batman.
Jason didn't seem intimidated by his words – rather, they appeared to encourage him. He crouched down next to Morgan and placed a casual hand on her shoulder, the other hand coming around the back of the pole she sat against, to press his gun against her cheek. He faced Dick with an air of lethal casualty.
Dick's heart was pounding with terror at the sight, and he could tell from her sharp intake of breath that Morgan was scared too. She had revealed to them that Jason had shot a man in front of her. She knew he wasn't afraid to take a life.
"You're not really in a position to make demands, are you?" he pointed out, and the lilt to his voice told Dick that he took gleeful satisfaction from whatever expression he read on his face.
He wasn't – Dick knew that. Jason held all the cards, tied up as they were, and Dick knew he only had one move to play; appeal to Jason's humanity, Even if he was unsure there was any of it left.
He looked at the red helmet hiding the face of someone he had once hoped could be like a brother to him. Someone who had suffered through immeasurable pain and then gotten brutally murdered. Someone Dick could only assume understood exactly what it was like to lose your loved ones.
"Please," he said through a clenched jaw, the single word full of pain.
The pressure of the gun against her face appeared to falter ever so slightly.
Morgan used her cheek to bat the gun away as best as she could, and Dick felt the wire around his throat tighten quickly before loosening again.
"Don't use me as some prop in your dick-measuring contest," she bit out, her tone a mix of fear and annoyance. Could she please stop antagonizing the enemy? "If you kill me just to get back at your family because you refuse to go to therapy, I'll come back as a ghost and I'll haunt your ass into your second grave."
Jason, despite his serious countenance, couldn't resist barking out a laugh.
"Good luck with that." He got up and headed for the door, halting next to the remaining soldier. "Stay and keep an eye on them."
The guard nodded curtly, hoisting his gun further up in his grip.
Dick blew a sigh of relief past his lips. He almost sagged where he sat, but kept his posture straight, as to not agitate the wires. For a horrifying second, he had thought Jason might do it – it wasn't like he hadn't killed before.
Dick's eyes roved over Morgan's face, trying to discern if she had been as scared as he. Her face was ghostly pale, but even through her mask, he could tell fire still burned in her eyes. Her furrowed brow spoke of determination. Perhaps she still thought Jason was within reason – maybe she didn't understand how close she'd been to meeting her permanent end.
"Next time," His voice came out as a resigned breath, "stop antagonizing someone pointing a gun at you."
"He was being an ass," she grumbled, showing she had learned nothing.
Dick felt a single, somewhat hysterical laugh bubble out of him.
"You're unhinged." Tim almost sounded impressed. "Are you sure you're not a bat?"
Morgan grimaced.
The soldier by the door shuffled around for a bit, his energy catching Dick's attention. His face was hidden beneath a dark helmet, but Dick thought he could read on him some intense, internal debate.
Quite suddenly, he dropped the gun he held and took off his helmet. He was sweating openly, looking nervous but resolved. His demonstrations had caught the attention of all three heroes by now, who watched him openly.
He turned towards Morgan.
"You're Sparrow?" he asked her.
"Uhm," she said, "Yeah?"
"You're the one that bought my son groceries instead of turning him over to the police."
Morgan tilted her head, looking to be recalling a memory. Then, realization; "You're Ben's dad?"
Tim and Dick exchanged a look.
"What are they talking about?" Tim mouthed at Dick, and he responded with a shrug.
"Yeah. That's my kid. You kept him and his sister fed for two weeks." The man's voice got progressively less gruff as he spoke, and he nodded at her in thanks. "I owe you one."
"Is your gratitude.. potentially great enough to.. let me go?" she suggested haltingly.
The soldier sprung to life, producing a knife.
"Right! Sure thing," he went to her side, where he cut down the wire system. "I'm just in this for the money, but family comes first."
Dick felt the wire around his throat ease fully, as the system above their heads came apart. The pressure on his throat disappeared, and he was allowed to breathe freely. His throat stung where the wire had sliced into his skin, but he knew the cut would heal.
He studied the man, who was in the middle of cutting the ties around Morgan's wrists.
This.. was a strange turn of events. It was almost too good to be true.
"You'll have to knock me out, so it looks like you guys got the jump on me," the guard suggested as he cut through the rope keeping her tied to the pole, and Morgan got up, stretching out her wings and rubbing at her wrists. Then, he approached Dick.
"Wait," Dick stopped him before he could cut through the rope around his wrists. "If you cut us all loose, he'll know we had help. Untie mine and he'll think I broke out and freed the others."
"Good thinking."
Dick could hardly believe their luck, but a moment later, they all stood, freed. The guard shifted around on his feet as he prepared himself to get knocked out. He was clearly nervous still - he was sweating and short of breath. Dick could understand why. If his betrayal was evident, he had no doubt that Red Hood would shoot the man. He was risking a lot for their sake.
"Thank you," Sparrow said sincerely. "Say hi to Ben when you see him."
The man nodded. He had scars across his face from a hard lived life, and they pulled and stretched as he spoke.
"Better make it look good."
"No problem," Tim said casually, and then he jumped forward and knocked the guard out with a swift punch to his temple. Their unexpected ally crumbled to the ground, and Dick quickly tied him up to sell the story even more.
"We should find our things before we try to take down Red Hood," Dick said, before cracking open the door. He peeked outside, but the hall was empty. This felt too easy – either Jason really hadn't expected them to be able to escape their bonds, or this was another trap.
Yet, down the hall they went. They were on some upper floor, directly beneath the tin roof of the warehouse. Dick suspected the large room where the explosion had gone off was directly behind the wall to their left, judging by the still lingering smell of smoke. The place was dark, and the heavy rain beating against the roof was so loud it drowned out any sound they might've made. However, it also masked any approaching footsteps. Twice, they encountered guards, who Dick swiftly took out before anyone else had the chance to react.
"Where would he keep our things?" Morgan whispered behind him as they snuck down a rickety, metal staircase. "I feel naked without my belt."
If Dick hadn't been laser focused on their mission, he was sure his mind would've traveled down the most obvious rabbit hole.
"Assuming he hasn't just burned all of it," Tim grumbled.
"He needs our trackers to still be working so Batman can find us," Dick pointed out. The metal staircase creaked and groaned beneath their feet. The whole building was ready to fall apart, and the explosion from earlier hadn't helped.
"Do you guys think you could get this off me, by the way?" Morgan pointed at the collar around her neck, and they all halted as Dick and Tim took a look at the collar.
"After last time? Who knows what he's put in it?"
"I don't see any hidden explosives anywhere," she pointed out.
Dick raised an eyebrow. "Let's go over the meaning of the word 'hidden', shall we?"
Sparrow rolled her eyes at him. Dick had to admit he did want the collar off her as soon as possible. He knew the tech well – he'd been electrocuted to the brink of losing consciousness by the same type of collar. Seeing the heavy, thick metal resting against her neck and collarbone made something deep inside of him clench, and it was his many years of training that kept his fear from distracting him.
"We don't have any of our equipment," Tim reminded her. "They were thorough."
"Not quite as thorough as you'd think," she admitted, and angled herself away from the eyes of the two boys. Dick heard her unzip the front of her suit and in the low light of the staircase, he could see her dig around inside her suit and pull something out before zipping herself back up.
She held out a small multitool.
"How-?"
"They never think to check the bra," she deadpanned. He accepted the multitool, the metal warm in his hand after being nestled against her.. skin.
The multitool didn't have the exact screwdriver or lockpick he would've normally used to take apart these collars, but it was much better than attempting to pull it apart with their bare hands. He fiddled for a bit, but the process was arduous. He found the hinge that kept the collar together when it was open, and tried to dislodge it. Nothing happened at first, but suddenly, a light on the collar switched on and issued a loud, warning beep. A strong electrical current blasted up the knife in his hand and shocked him. Dick jumped back, dropping the multitool to the floor. It clattered against the staircase and fell through a gap, disappearing below.
Morgan had let out a startled, strained cry and fell to her knees as she was electrocuted. Dick felt the muscles in his arm convulse from the shock he'd received, but he still jumped forward to catch her. Tim stood behind him, supporting both of them as they fell onto their butts.
Morgan's breath came out in labored gasps and he didn't doubt that she'd borne the brunt of the electrocution. He knew exactly how much it stung, and allowed her to simply breathe for a moment.
The collar clearly had a failsafe, if someone attempted to open it with force. And now they'd lost the multitool.
"Sorry," he said through his own raspy breathing. His arm had yet to stop twitching.
"You guys okay?" Tim asked.
Morgan gave him a thumbs up with a shaking arm.
"Peachy," she whispered. "Give me a second to catch my breath."
No sooner than the words had left her mouth, they heard three loud gunshots go off in a perfect interval. The three of them froze and stared at the top of the staircase, as the sound had reached them from that direction. There was a short pause, and then the same three shots echoed down the hall once more.
It sounded like the gunshots were fired in the vicinity of the room they'd been captive in.
Dick and Tim exchanged knowing looks.
"A signal?" Tim suggested.
Dick nodded. "I think they found out we're gone."
The thuds of many feet running around started echoing up and down the hall, sounding like they came from all around them. Agitated voices reached them, gruff orders being barked out, though the sound was too muffled for Dick to accurately discern what was said.
He grabbed Morgan's arm and helped her up. She looked out of it, but she was thankfully able to stand.
"I think it's time for us to exit stage left," Tim said, pointing at a window to their left.
Stay or fight it out?
"If we run away now, we might lose the chance to take down the Militia," Morgan grunted, supporting her body against the railing. "And we might lose Jason."
She looked at Dick, waiting for him to voice his opinion.
He considered her worries. Then he looked her over.
"Are you good to fight? You don't have your telekinesis."
She gave him her most confident smirk. He was sure she would've looked more convincing if she hadn't been leaning heavily against the railing, with her bloodied and bruised face.
"I owe Red Hood a punch to the face. And I still have my fists."
"It's your mission," Dick reminded her. "It's your call."
Her smirk faltered as if the seriousness hadn't occurred to her – he understood. After all, she'd never led a mission before. She stood up straighter and pushed away from the railing.
"I want to do this," she said with renewed solemnity. She looked at Tim. "Tim?"
Tim nodded confidently. "Let's kick some ass."
September 12th
Gotham
Sparrow
All hell was breaking loose.
It hadn't taken long for the three of them to get discovered – the building was, after all, absolutely swimming with members of the Militia. Despite their best efforts, despite taking out soldiers with quiet, ruthless efficiency, it was inevitable that they'd get cornered.
They were being corralled into the main room – it had become apparent after some time. Perhaps Red Hood intended to meet them head on? Duke it out, so they'd be dead for Batman to find?
Ahead of her, Dick was taking down three men at once, and behind her, Tim was fighting off another two. Morgan saw two more approaching and she leaped forward. Batting her wings wildly, she managed to disorient them enough that she could push them back down the flight of stairs. They landed in a heap at the bottom, and the three heroes leapt over them as they resumed their mad dash.
"Up there!" Dick pointed at the rafters running along the tin roof of the building. Perhaps, if they could disappear, they might have the element of surprise when they confronted Red Hood. Morgan squashed down her nerves. She had never been in an open fight before without her telekinesis and she was doing everything she could to compensate for her lack of powers, but it was difficult. She kept trying to tap into it instinctively as she fought off attackers, and it made her inefficient, scrambling to save face every time it failed.
Dick held his hands out, and Tim ran towards him, allowing himself to get launched into the air. He grabbed onto the rafters and hoisted himself up. Dick jumped, agile like a cat, across the walls, grabbing onto any tiny nook and cranny that lent him purchase.
The two bats sat hidden in the rafters when Morgan flew up to join them. Bathed in shadows, they crouched and ran along the rafters, making as little noise as possible. Luckily, the heavy rain still drowned out any sound they made, and the people they passed above seemed unwise to their presence. Sparrow kept her wings tightly pressed to her back, remaining hidden from their sight.
They found their way into the large room where the explosion had gone off. Smoke was noticeable in the air, and the pile of crates still sat burning upon the scorched concrete floor. A score of men, too large for her to count in the two seconds she peeked down, stood about the room, guns raised. They were ready for them.
"Could really use some smoke bombs right about now," Sparrow mumbled, as she followed close behind Dick.
"Don't suppose you have any of those in your bra, do you?" he joked, and she bit back a grin.
"Sorry, it's all empty."
"Well.. not entirely."
"Oh my god," Tim whispered to himself, sending a long suffering look to the heavens.
Dick didn't acknowledge Tim's whisper as he studied their opponents. What were they going to do? Jumping down into a room full of armed enemies, with no gadgets of their own, and no powers, felt like suicide.
Morgan sat back on her butt and looked around, mind whirring. The two boys were busy studying the room below, and formulating a plan, and so she was the first to notice the flash of a dark shadow outside.
"I might not have any smoke bombs on me," she said slowly, pointing at the imposing figure of Batman as he came into view. "But I'll bet he does."
"Batman!" Dick whispered in a hiss, beckoning for the dark knight. Robin appeared beside his father and the two of them stealthily entered through a broken window.
The four bats launched into a series of hand gestures, and it took her a moment to realize it was sign language. She wasn't exactly surprised that they knew how to do that – more surprised that she'd never considered how genius it was to be able to communicate without sound, when they were trying to avoid detection.
They seemed to reach a conclusion to their discussion, and Batman dug into his belt, producing what she assumed were the aforementioned smoke bombs.
"Close your eyes," Dick whispered to her, as Batman threw his arm back and launched the bombs at the floor.
Not smoke bombs – flash bombs. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the flash go off, and the dozens of men below shouted in surprise and confusion.
The bats all jumped down, and Morgan quickly flew after them.
At least ten soldiers were taken down before the rest started to regain their bearings. All Morgan could see was a mass of dark-clad limbs, flailing in battle.
At some point, Nightwing catapulted by her, and she saw he was wearing a mask once more – Batman must've had some ready for them.
She barely had time to finish the thought before three men jumped at her, and she valiantly fought them off. It was less of a struggle the more she fought, as she became accustomed to her lack of powers. All of Nightwing's lessons came back to her, from a time where her telekinesis had been too unreliable to depend on in battle.
However, the ever-present threat of the many loaded weapons was always in the back of her mind and she did her best to constantly move around, to make herself a harder target to hit. She supposed the only thing keeping them from shooting wildly was the fear of hitting each other. Many times, gunshots went off, and she feared looking up to see one of her allies dead.
Batman threw down several smoke bombs, and the entire room was covered in thick, gray smoke. Morgan's mask flickered as it adjusted to the new lack of visibility, switching to heat vision.
Many bodies were moving about, but she looked up at the pathways running along the walls of the warehouse, and she saw Red Hood. He was standing with his gun raised, but he wasn't aiming at anyone in particular. He seemed to be assessing the situation instead of directly participating.
Was he trying to run off?
Not if she had anything to say about it. After all this, she was not letting him get away.
Her powerful wings made the smoke around her dance as she took to the air, heading straight for Jason.
"Hood!" she called out, gaining his attention. "Here's that kiss you wanted!"
She kissed her fist right as she landed on top of him, punching at the red helmet with all her might. A lucky hit - she'd managed to hit one of the eye holes at just the right angle, and it fizzled before the light went out. Her hand groaned beneath the force, unsupported by her telekinesis as it was.
Dramatic? Sure.
But had it felt good?
Hell yes.
He shoved her away from him and took off his helmet, throwing it at her. It hit her in the stomach with the force of a bowling ball, and all air was knocked out of her.
He grabbed for his guns and Morgan quickly barrelled into him again, kicking them further down the walkway.
Jason was much stronger than her, and he absolutely had more years of training – but she had her general recklessness, and she wasn't afraid to meet him in battle. Did that make her a fool? Perhaps.
The two of them dueled, Morgan doing her best to evade his powerful blows. She didn't expect to be able to best him – she just needed to stall until the rest of the gang had been brought down and the others could help her pin Red Hood down. She couldn't allow him to escape, even if he broke every bone in her body in the process.
"You know, I really did think you were capable of redemption!" she admitted acerbically. "I must've been truly delusional."
"You were gullible as hell," he mocked her, "but I have to admit it almost felt nice."
He aimed a punch at her, and she somersaulted away, landing on the railing of the walkway, her wings fluttering to help her keep her balance. Jumping back down, she grabbed a brick that had fallen from the crumbling wall, and lobbed it at him. He caught it, but she'd already thrown another, which landed square in his face. He took a step back from the blow and stumbled over another pile of bricks. He fell and hit the wall behind him with the back of his head first, looking disoriented.
She used his momentary lapse to look at the rest of the fight going on below. Batman and Robin were fighting off half a dozen men in one corner of the room, while Red Robin and Nightwing were each fighting by themselves. Many enemies lay unconscious on the floor already, but there were still plenty to keep them busy.
Too busy for any of them to notice the man standing on the opposite walkway, holding a sniper rifle.
Morgan's blood ran cold with pure terror as she watched him take careful aim at Dick.
"No!" she shouted, reaching forwards with her hand, aiming a telekinetic blow at the man – with telekinesis that never came.
She was too far away, and she knew that, even as she spread her wings and made to jump off the railing.
A deafening shot blasted through the air, shaking her eardrums, and she felt as if she might crumble to the ground in shock. She slipped and fell back onto the walkway. Morgan could barely force herself to look, her mind overcome with images of Dick's lifeless body painting the concrete red where he had fallen.
She got on shaking knees, telling herself she had to look, had to know.
But Dick wasn't lying on the floor, and he wasn't bleeding.
He was fine.
Morgan's shocked and panicked brain caught up to her senses and she looked to her side – where the sound of the gunshot had originated.
Jason looked murderous as he stood with a taut body and a pointed gun, smoke steaming out of the barrel.
Her eyes followed the line of his outstretched arm, all the way across the room, until she found the sniper.
The man had dropped his rifle, and even from her position across the room, she could see him take a shuddering breath. His clothes were black, and yet the blood leaking from his chest was visible.
As he fell over, he slipped off the walkway and hurled towards the hard ground many feet below. It was clear he was dead by the time he hit the ground, and yet all she felt was relief.
She looked at Jason with shock. His face was hard, his eyes flashing. He let his arm drop, seeming confused at his own actions. He looked at the gun in his limp hand.
"You-"
"Okay fine, maybe I don't actually want to kill my family," he spit at her, his voice crackling with anger. He jammed his elbow into the window behind him, and the glass shattered upon impact.
Throwing one leg over the windowsill, he paused to look behind him, meeting her eyes.
She nodded at him as an understanding passed between them, and then he was gone. The adrenalin from her shock was starting to wear off, and it left her entire body trembling.
Dick had been so close to dying. The thought was unbearable, and even though she knew he was okay.. the fact that she had even for a moment thought he was gone, had filled her with such terror that she now couldn't stop shaking. She knew she ought to go down and help the others, but she sat with her back against the crumbling wall, feeling numb.
Over the sound of her pounding heart, she could hear the fight dying down. She got on her hands and knees and looked below. The ground was stained red, but it wasn't his blood.
Still – a life had been taken.
She felt queasy.
She watched as the bats gathered in the middle of the room, several dozen men lying in various stages of consciousness at their feet. Using the railing for purchase, she hoisted herself up, feeling like she was on a ship in a heavy storm. Her legs were jelly.
The four of them looked up at her, and she scrambled ungracefully over the railing, gliding towards them. She landed on her feet, but her knees buckled, and Nightwing's hand shot out to steady her.
"The police are on their way," Batman said gruffly.
"Are you okay?" Red Robin asked her cautiously, voicing what they all appeared to be thinking.
"Did you guys see?" she asked, unable to specify further. At least her voice had been steady.
Dick looked deeply uncomfortable, but he nodded. "We saw."
If nothing else, she was grateful that she wouldn't have to explain. Hearing him speak reminded her all the more that he was alive – a thing that could've so easily have gone different.
If he had died, it would've been her fault. Her fault for planning this bust, her fault for suggesting they fight the enemy instead of escaping while they could.
She had very nearly gotten him killed because of her ego.
The shame that pooled into her stomach would've struck her down if his steadying hand hadn't been on her elbow.
"But I'm okay," he went on, and nods of understanding passed between her more experienced teammates. "And Red Hood showed a glimmer of remorse. That's not insignificant."
"Red Hood got away," Batman sighed, not sounding surprised in the slightest. "But we've taken down the Militia for good. Another dangerous gang off the streets – tonight was a success."
He looked at Sparrow, giving her a nod of approval. "Thanks to you and your plan."
She froze. Couldn't they see – didn't they understand that this had been a complete failure? That Dick had almost been killed? That their actual target had been lost?
But Batman, Red Robin and Nightwing all looked at her with approval. Worst of all was the proud smile on Dick's face.
Instinct took over when the looks she received clashed too greatly with the shame she felt inside, and before she knew it, she was off. Her wings carried her away as fast as they could.
"Sparrow!" she heard Dick call after her as she landed on the windowsill Jason had escaped through. She didn't heed his shout, instead jumping through the window and out into the night.
The rain whipped at her face and made it difficult to navigate. She wasn't trying to go anywhere specific, however – she was just trying to get away. Through the downpour she saw the flat roof of an abandoned apartment building, and she changed course quickly and gracelessly, stumbling onto the roof before falling over in a heap of limbs and feathers.
What was wrong with her?
She sat up, the cut on her cheekbone stinging with renewed agitation. Blood mingled with rain as it ran down her face and into a puddle on the dirty roof.
The cool air and the rain slowly seeping into her hair began to clear her mind, and she felt the heavy rhythm of her heart start to calm. Suddenly, the world was quiet.
Morgan got up and shook out her wings before walking with deliberate calmness towards the edge of the rooftop. Below, it was dark. The streets were mostly empty, save for the few people that had cause to be out in the middle of the night. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to dispel the storm going on inside of her.
What had happened to her? Why did she feel so.. lost?
"Morgan."
She closed her eyes against the sound of Dick's voice, not at all surprised that he had followed her. It felt almost inevitable.
She turned and sucked in a breath at the sight of him. The rain was soaking through his dark locks, which were quickly plastering to his face. The black combat-outfit of the Militia looked wrong on him – it needed more blue.
He wasn't wearing his mask, worst of all. The look in his eyes made her want to run over and wrap herself around him, melt into his warmth until they were barely separate people. It also made her want to fly off again and avoid him forever, because of the feelings he ignited in her.
He looked confused and hurt, but also resolved. She realized she didn't get to run away this time. He would have her explain.
"Dick," she said, and the stuttering of her own voice surprised her. She could barely recognize herself like this.
"What's going on?" he asked with a touch of desperation. He looked as lost as she felt.
"I-" Morgan closed her eyes and breathed deeply. What was going on? "I don't know. I don't know why I'm feeling like this."
"Feeling like what?" He took a few cautious steps towards her, his boots splashing in the puddles between them.
"Like such a complete failure." Her heart stopped for a beat. There – she had admitted it, out loud, to the one person whose judgment she feared more than any other.
Dick paused, the look on his face overcome with displeasure. "Failure?"
She turned away from him again, looking out over the city.
"You were the one that read Jason correctly and figured out what he was doing. A dangerous gang was just wiped off the streets in one night." He spoke with insistence, and she could hear he was right behind her now. "I lied when I said I could get out of those bonds. The only reason we escaped was because of your actions as Sparrow. That guard risked everything to help us because of you."
"But Jason got away!" she shot back. The hand he placed on her shoulder made her jump, but he gently made her turn back towards him.
It took her a moment of courage to look into his eyes, and she hated that. Something inside of her felt like it was coming to a head, threatening to burst at any moment. She feared what was going to come out the moment it popped.
"And because of my decision, you were almost killed," she whispered, happy at least that her voice was no longer trembling.
Dick shook his head and bowed it for a moment, his lips pressed together tightly and his jaw working. Then, he reached forward and gently peeled the mask off her face. She blinked in the darkness as she lost the benefit of her night vision, but the tender smile on his face was clear like the sun.
He allowed the mask to fall to the ground and her protests died in her throat when his warm hand cupped her face. He turned her to the side and studied the cut she had on her cheekbone.
"Won't need stitches," he mumbled as he assessed it.
Morgan huffed out a breath and moved out of his grasp.
"Let me get the inhibitor collar off. For good, this time."
She had almost forgotten it was even there, she was so used to the weight of it by now. Morgan stood still as she allowed him to break the collar open with a lockpick. Had he gotten his things back? Or had he borrowed something from Batman?
As he removed the collar from her neck, she realized that it didn't really matter. Her telekinesis came rushing back and she held in a sigh of relief, her eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. That, at least, made her feel a little less like this girl she couldn't recognize.
"We all know we're putting our lives at stake when we do stuff like this," he said calmly. He threw the collar to the ground and stomped on it with all his might. Sparks erupted and the collar powered off. Good. "You can't blame yourself for decisions other people make. I chose to enter that fight. And that sniper chose to aim at me. And then Jason chose to shoot him."
"But-"
He cupped her cheeks again, this time with both hands, the look on his face earnest.
"I told you your plan was sound. And I trusted your intuition – if I had thought entering that room was a bad idea, I wouldn't have gone along with it."
The raging storm inside of her started to calm. Even if she didn't have complete faith in herself, it was nice to know someone else did.
"I'm fine," he assured her, his voice barely a whisper. His hand smoothed over her soaked hair and rested at the nape of her neck, craning her face towards his. He pulled her closer and rested his forehead against hers. Her eyes slipped shut on their own volition. Morgan grasped his forearm, feeling the warmth and strength beneath her fingers, and she trusted his words. "I'm not hurt. You did well."
She gave him a tiny nod to show she understood. His hot breath blew over her face and she swallowed nervously, feeling her stomach erupt into flutters and her breath hitch. She felt like she was entering a trance as all the love she carried for him burst to the surface of her mind. She thought about how easy it would be to inch just a bit closer, close enough for the gap between them to disappear. How she'd missed the feeling of his lips working against hers, the taste and smell of him lingering in her senses long after he let her go.
Something inside of her panicked deeply as she realized they were both inching closer. The reality of what they were doing crashed down on her like a bucket of ice-cold water and the spell she had been under was utterly broken.
In her panic, Morgan pushed him away roughly, gaping at him in shock and with a pounding heart.
"You still have feelings for me!" she exclaimed, and then winced at her own lack of subtlety. Now that the words were spoken aloud, it became so apparent to her. How could she not have seen it?
Dick visibly did a double take at her statement, and the expression on his face was that of open confusion.
"I- I mean – Yeah?" he said, clearly grasping for words. The confirmation sent heat flashing through her body, a torturous mix of horror and exhilaration. He studied whatever was passing on her face and what he said next was even worse than his admittance. "I thought we were on the same page? You still have feelings for me too!"
If Morgan had been a coward, she would've just flown off with the realization that he knew. But she stayed, her desire to face things head on winning over her desire to flee from the mortification - the terribly bitter-sweet revelation that he knew, and he felt the same way.
She was still in love with him.
And he was still in love with her.
Everything was starting to make sense. The times they'd spent hanging out, just talking. When he'd begged her to stay after his injury. When he'd brought her a birthday present. When he'd helped her fall asleep. When they'd danced – oh god, she had been so obvious.
There was a rueful smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but then Morgan blurted out; "I'm sorry!"
Dick halted, the look on his face fizzling out, replaced by something less certain, more insecure.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm so sorry! I should've kept my distance; I didn't give you time to – to move on. I shouldn't have tried to be friends, or-or talked about needing you during our missions. This is all my fault!"
"Your fault?" He frowned deeply. Droplets of water soaked into his eyelashes, and he blinked rapidly through the pouring rain. Morgan registered the deep rumble of approaching thunder and she briefly wondered if they should get off this roof. The clouds blinked with flashes of lightning in the distance.
"Oh my god, I even asked you to hang out a few days ago!" she cupped her face in horror. "I never would've done that if I hadn't been sure you were over me!" She took a few steps backwards in horror when she realized the magnitude of her mistakes.
"You thought I was over you?" Dick asked, and his voice had gone dead.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, her tone earnest. "You've been flirting with Koriand'r for months!"
"I have not been flirting," he protested. He pushed his sopping bangs out of his face and the hair stuck up oddly for a moment, though it was quickly weighed down again by the downpour. "I'm being flirted at. There's a difference."
"Sure," she agreed sarcastically. Even if he hadn't been flirting, he hadn't done anything to dissuade Koriand'r either. "You even gave her a gift the other day!"
"A gift-? Oh," he shook his head, a humorless smile on his lips. "She's been looking to move out of the Watchtower. Wanted her own apartment – I've been helping her apply for citizenship so she could rent. That was the paperwork she had to fill out."
"Oh," Morgan mumbled, feeling foolish for having read so much into their interactions.
"And what about you?" he accused her right back, "You and Kaldur seem awfully close."
"Kaldur? Don't you know that-?" She halted, knowing this wasn't her secret to reveal. "No, I shouldn't tell you, if you don't already know."
Dick frowned for a moment. "Kaldur's gay?"
"So, you do know!"
"No, but your reaction pretty much gave it away," he said. "I feel like we're getting off track here-"
"How could you think I had a crush on Kaldur?" She was honestly flabbergasted that he would make such a big leap – Dick was usually so good at reading people.
"Well, you specifically didn't want him to know about your reaction to that corpse! I thought maybe you were worried what he'd think because you wanted to impress him."
"I do want to impress him! He's the leader of the League, he assigns missions, I don't want him to think I'm weak!"
He appeared as flabbergasted as her and it made him briefly forget what they were actually supposed to be talking about, because he huffed out a confused and strange laugh.
"I figured you just said that stuff to hide the real reason, because I thought it was so stupid - it's obvious you're fit for the work, I assumed there was no way you wouldn't know that?"
"Maybe the fact that my then-boyfriend spent weeks trying to convince me I wasn't cut out for the League made me a bit insecure?" her voice was laced with bitterness as she remembered that time of their relationship.
Dick paused, looking unsure. "I did that?"
"You were so fucking pissed when I said I wanted to join the League, don't you remember that?"
"I remember feeling sad that my girlfriend was leaving because I really needed you there with me. I had only just taken over leadership of the Team when you left, and I was still adjusting." He shifted on the spot and looked at his feet as if recalling whatever he might have said to make her think he didn't see her as capable. "I remember worrying for you because joining the League meant I wouldn't be able to go on missions with you and help you when you needed it. And becoming a member of the League means going public in a way being on the Team doesn't. You were still very new to being a hero.. I- yeah, I guess I didn't think you were ready. But it seemed the more I tried to express my worry, the more your decision was final."
"I didn't join the League to spite you. I did it for me." She pressed a hand against her chest, which ached at the admittance that he hadn't thought her capable. "I did it to get out from under your shadow. Even to this day, I get people calling me the 'female Nightwing' because of my suit and because we were always seen together. And I- I realized I had no idea who I was without you. So I left to figure that out."
Dick's eyes flashed darkly. "And how's that working out for you? Because you seem more lost than ever."
"That's a low blow." She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You've been at this for over thirteen years – everyone knows who you are. And so do you. You don't know what it's like to struggle like this."
Even as she spoke, the words rang hollow, and Morgan realized she was just trying to say anything that could possibly justify her reasons for leaving the Team. Any legitimacy to her claim fell apart when he barked out an incredulous laugh.
"Did you forget who I trained under? You don't think I've struggled to escape from under his shadow?"
She felt the fight leave her body and she grew weary. Shivering in her wet suit, she turned and kicked at the crumbling remains of the railing. It seemed stable enough, and she sank onto it with a worn sigh. Dick studied her, hovering with uncertainty.
"You're right. You probably know exactly how it feels," she mumbled, and she wasn't sure if her voice would carry through the rain. Dick shuffled closer, sinking onto the roof with his back pressed against the railing, his head inches from her knee. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, and she wondered how he wasn't chilled like her.
Morgan studied her hands, scraped up as they were. Years of training and fighting had left them rough, littered with small scars, cuts, and hardened skin.
Out of all people, he should've understood the need to carve out her own identity. And perhaps he would've understood, if only he hadn't been the mentor she was trying to escape.
He was being hypocritical, and she felt sure that he knew that deep down, if he was able to move past his hurt feelings.
"Remind me again – what did you do to escape his shadow?" she asked cautiously.
Dick sighed and dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, rubbing almost angrily at his face.
"I.. joined a new team and moved out. Changed my name from Robin. Spent some time inventing my own identity, separate from him.."
She knew she didn't have to say anything. The 'I told you so' hung in the air between them. She would extend the grace of not saying it out loud.
"We still can't stop fighting," she sighed.
"Apparently not." He sounded defeated. He leaned his head back with closed eyes. His face twitched and his brow furrowed as fat raindrops pelted him, but he didn't move, allowing them to wash over him.
Morgan felt stuck. What now?
They sat in silence. Her insides were still twisting. They had ripped off the band aid and so much had been said and yet.
She felt that there was still so much that needed to be addressed. If only she knew where, or how, to keep going.
She didn't have to – Dick heaved a sigh so heavy his entire body seemed ready to collapse in on itself, and when he spoke his voice was raw and vulnerable.
"I thought it was a good thing.. That we both still have feelings for each other. Wouldn't that just mean we can pick up where we left off?" he ran tired hands over his face and through his hair. "I miss you so much."
Hot tears instantly strung forth and she hoped the rain would hide them.
"Dick.." she felt her voice go flat and lifeless as she realized she was about to break his heart for the second time. "Every reason I had for breaking up with you is still relevant. Nothing's changed."
He sprang to life in an instant, leaping off the ground to study her with wide, confused eyes.
"Nothing's changed?" he sounded baffled, the hurt and frustration making him take a few pacing steps back and forth. "How could it? I still don't even know why we broke up. And don't tell me it was just because of what you told me in that cave – we didn't just break up because I was busy!"
It wasn't – but how could she admit the truth?
Morgan got up too, her body as jittery as it was cold.
"You don't understand," she defended herself, but Dick was having none of it.
"Then help me to understand!" he reached forward and grabbed her hands, looking desperate for any kind of explanation. "Why did you break up with me?"
She could feel the words bubbling forth, lodging in her throat and threatening to spill out of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could keep them in, but knowing she was unable to stay silent.
"Because you. Are. Terrifying!"
He let go of her hands and took a startled step back.
"I'm.. terrifying?"
"You're Nightwing!" she exclaimed, as if that explained everything. He frowned to show it clearly did not. "You're the youngest person to ever become a hero, you were the first sidekick – every single person on that team exists because you paved the way!" She pointed in some vague direction, as if the Team was there watching her speak. "You're the best of us all! We all know you're destined to lead not just the Team, but the League! There's not a single person that doesn't want to either be you or be on you."
He looked completely lost as to what she was getting at, and so, horribly, she had to keep going. While she'd been talking, the discomfort was clear to read on him. He seemed ill at ease to hear her so confidently spell out how big of a deal he was, as if he didn't see it like that, or didn't like when someone else pointed it out.
"And when you're not Nightwing, you're the ward of one of the richest people in the damn country. You hold more power than I could ever hope to achieve." Her words felt petty, even to her own ears, and she struggled to elaborate in a way that made sense. In a way that didn't make her sound awful. "Every person in Gotham, maybe even America, knows your name. Facts are, I'm not at all unique in falling for you, Dick. And from the moment we got together, people have made sure I knew I wasn't good enough for you. Every single one of our peers at school acted like I was a gold-digging whore! Hell, half of the League seemed confused what you were doing with me. Even Bruce told me to stay away from you. There's not a single person on this planet that didn't see the truth for what it was."
"And what was that?" his voice had gone quiet, hard. Something dark was flashing in his eyes, and the look bade her continue, even if the anger radiating off him made her hesitant to.
"The fact that you're better than me in every way. The fact that I didn't deserve you, and I still don't."
The tears were falling freely by now. She had done her best to keep her voice steady, but soundless sobs were threatening to wrack through her body. She was sure she'd never hated herself more than in this moment – the shame at admitting her own insignificance, to him of all people, was almost too much.
Dick looked torn between fury and a deep sadness. But something about him was defeated. He seemed to finally understand why they had broken up
"Shouldn't that be for me to decide?" he challenged her words, but his voice was hollow, and she felt her lips pull into a humorless smile.
"You already admitted as much. The talk we had in the woods the first time we went through a rift. I said I was just a hot mess that was lucky to get picked up by you, and you agreed with me, remember?"
" What?" he sounded truly baffled. "I was talking about the night we found you in Gotham! You were a hot mess then – you didn't even have shoes on!"
She was about to retort, but he held up a hand and she snapped her mouth shut. The look on his face was devastating.
"So, this is the reason I had my heart broken? I lost one of the best things that had ever happened to me because you care more about other people's opinions than my feelings for you. Since when do you care about wealth and status? You're making it sound like I'm some privileged kid born with a silver spoon in my ass and that's not true!" He huffed out a deep breath and looked so furious it was a wonder the rain soaking into his clothes hadn't begun to steam. "I had no idea you were so shallow."
She felt her mouth drop open, but no protests came out. He might as well have slapped her. Hearing him sum up what she had said back to her, made her realize how stupid her reasoning sounded and she felt like a big, dumb idiot.
"When did you become this insecure?" he practically spat the word out, but his anger melted away into devastation. "You used to never give a shit what anyone thought about you! That was one of the things I absolutely loved about you because I knew you didn't care who I was - my legacy didn't impress you at all. You. Just. Saw. Me."
Her chest gave a dull but potent throb at his words because it was true. At some point during all of her therapy and soul searching, she had let go of her anger, and now she felt like a balloon that had lost all the hot air that used to keep it floating. The anger had been her shield against the world, and now she was defenseless.
The betrayal was clear on his face. He had thought she saw him for who he was, but now he seemed unsure of that. She wanted to protest – she wanted to tell him that she did see him, did know him.
And she loved him.
But that would only complicate things. She was still too damaged, too difficult to love. If she allowed herself to admit that she loved him and missed him, he would take her back – and then she would ruin his life.
"Maybe I've always been insecure – maybe I was just very good at hiding behind anger instead of admitting that I actually care. So maybe what I need is a boyfriend that has more time for me, that can show me often that he loves me." She feebly searched for any excuse, any explanation that could drive him off. "And maybe you just didn't have time for that because of everything else going on in your life. Maybe you deserve someone that doesn't need that constant reassurance. Someone less high maintenance. Dick, maybe the truth is.. we were a bad match from the start. We're just not compatible."
"Don't say that." He looked like he was clenching his jaw tight to keep from shouting. His voice snapped like lightning, and real lightning flashed in response behind him. "Don't give me that shit. You're a terrible liar, you know that? I know you don't actually care about what anyone else thinks - you would've told the whole world to buzz off if you disagreed."
"I-"
Morgan was unsure what she had wanted to say, but she never got to find out because Dick spoke over her, and his words made deep, cold sorrow rush through her.
"I know that your dad leaving hurt you, but you were the one that let that overshadow our entire relationship. I asked you for over a year to move in with me and you were the one that kept putting it off! You were scared of that level of intimacy because you're so sure one day the people you love are going to wake up and realize you don't deserve them. You decided you weren't good enough for me all on your own, and that was why you left me."
She gaped at him. He looked truly agitated, and he didn't seem at all relieved to have finally gotten to say his piece. The sudden mention of her dad had felt like a gutpunch. Dick had speared what she hadn't even realized herself, and her chest burst with a mix of sorrow and fury when she realized the root of her problems. The cause of all it - her insecurities, her scramble to prove herself, her drive to impress her leaders and peers..
She had thought she was over it by now - this thing that had happened thirteen years ago - but it was clear now that it was still influencing every aspect of her life. This man who she so loathed, who wasn't even alive anymore, still determined every step she took.
Some deep, hidden wound in the recesses of her heart gave a harsh, painful throb.
After everything.. all she had done. All she had worked for. Was she still really just a hurt eight year old, who had woken up to being told her dad had left her?
Dick must've read the crumbled expression on her face clearly, because his anger died down, and he looked wholly sympathetic. When he spoke, his voice was calm and warm.
"I've told you before and I'll say it again; you aren't your worst moments - so stop letting them control you."
She looked at him with wild eyes.
He was right, of course. If she had truly believed that she deserved him, she wouldn't have cared what everyone else was saying. This ran much deeper, and truly, her rejections of him probably stemmed from a life-long rejection of herself. As she had settled into a calmer life with him and the Team, the old shadows on her mind had started to whisper to her. At some point, her insecurities had drowned out the happiness she felt with him, and she had started to believe what others were saying.
But now, he had called her out. And why was she surprised? After all, he knew her better than anyone else. Perhaps even better than she did.
So then why didn't she believe him when he claimed to love her?
She felt ugly emotions flare up in her. He had laid bare the most tender, hurt part of her soul and she hadn't given him permission to do that. She would've much rather never have realized how broken she actually was.
She had been doing fine! Who was he to come and pull the rug out from under her in such a way? What gave him the right to prod at the most hurtful thing that had ever happened to her?
She felt like a hurt animal scrambling to defend itself before succumbing to its wounds.
"But we were fighting so often! How could I believe you loved me when I seemed to irritate you so much?"
"Couples fight! That's normal! Sometimes it's good to argue, it means you talk things out and move past them!" he insisted, but he was losing the fire in his voice.
Morgan shook her head. "My parents fought. Often and loudly. I don't associate it with anything good."
"So did mine, and their marriage was loving," he shot back. She wanted to cry out with frustration. Why couldn't he just understand?
"Well, I guess that's another thing that makes us incompatible," she poured as much dismissive scorn into her voice as possible, even as she struggled to keep it from breaking under her tears. She wrapped her hands around herself to hide their shaking.
He looked incredulous at her scornful expression, and he seemed to realize this fight had been lost from the beginning.
"It doesn't matter what I say, does it? I could stand here until the sun rises, telling you every reason why I love you, every reason why you're amazing and capable and more than good enough, and it wouldn't make a difference because you've already decided you don't deserve me."
The resignation in his voice almost undid her as much as his words. Her heart throbbed to hear him express such love, such tender feelings for her. But the quiet tremble in his voice made the tears fall harder. She wondered if he was crying too, but if he was, the rain hid his tears like it did hers.
"I'm wasting my time because I can't make you believe something you don't believe yourself. And I guess.. I guess maybe I don't actually know who you really are."
Somewhere deep inside of her, she wondered why she was so eagerly sabotaging herself. Here he was, the man she loved more than anyone else, practically begging for her to come back to him, and she was refusing because of-?
She could hardly remember anymore. Some vague idea of self-preservation. Or the dark voice in the back of her mind whispering poison into her ear.
He would grow tired of her. He would realize she was a waste of his time. If she allowed herself to love him, she would only open herself up to more hurt.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn't as over her dad abandoning her as she thought. Maybe she wasn't doing as well as she had been pretending. Maybe she still had years of therapy and counseling ahead of her before she would truly heal.
Maybe she never would.
She wouldn't drag him down with her.
"I guess you don't. Maybe I don't either."
He closed his eyes and shook his head. She could tell he was giving up, and that hurt more than all of the things that had passed between them on that rooftop.
She didn't want him to give up on her. But she also didn't want him to suffer because of her mess.
"Let me know if you figure it out," he said with a dead voice. "For now.. I'll do what you want and leave you alone."
Watching someone walk away had never left such an ache in her chest, but she knew she had achieved exactly what she'd set out to.
He was going to move on. He'd no longer carry her burdens – he would be free.
But then..
Why did it feel so wrong?
Lightning flashed across the sky again and she was blinded for a second from the sheer power of it. When her vision returned, she saw a golden, shimmering thread had burst from the cavity of her chest. It rushed forward and connected with a similar thread coming out of Dick's back. He kept walking, unaware of the two threads connecting and wrapping around each other as if trying to keep him from leaving. Morgan almost called out to him, but she feared facing him more than whatever was happening with the spell.
The thread strained as the distance between them grew larger, and when Dick jumped off the roof and disappeared, it snapped. It ricocheted back towards her, gathering into a messy ball of shimmering gold. It hit her chest like a punch and she stumbled back with a gasp.
Morgan felt the spell that had lain dormant for so long in her system crackle to life, bursting through her senses and coloring her vision with gold. The power of it struck her down and she was thrown onto the hard surface of the rooftop.
Her senses melted away as all she could feel was her body vibrating and all she could see was gold. She wasn't sure for how long she lay there with her ears ringing, but at some point, her mind returned to her. The first thing she felt was how cold she was – then the rain pelting her body.
With a hazy mind, she got up.
What was going on?
As she regained control over her limbs, another rumble of thunder shook her bones. All at once, she decided she was sick of this rooftop. It had caused her enough pain.
On unsteady wings, she flew home.
As she landed on the fire escape outside of her apartment, she did her very best to keep her mind completely blank. It was all she could do to keep her emotions at bay - the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
She crawled inside, leaving small puddles of rainwater on her floor, and goosebumps erupted all over her body as she slipped out of the soaked suit. She stood in her bathroom and blinked as she turned on the light in there. Too bright for her eyes, which had been in darkness for so long.
In the mirror, she saw the results of her night. Her temple was scratched up and bloody, and on her cheek was a fairly deep cut. Thankfully the bleeding had stopped by now, leaving a thick trail of blood down her cheek that had already been partially washed away by the rain. The split lip wasn't as bad as she had initially thought. But the lower half of her face was already beginning to bruise. Worst of all was perhaps the dead look in her eyes, and she realized she looked truly done.
Mind blank. Mind blank, she thought to herself as she washed away the blood on her face. She dug around in her cupboard for the disinfectant she used to clean her wounds. It stung, but she hardly felt it through her numb state.
What's going on with the spell, she wondered, deciding it was easier to think about than the talk she had just had with him. She had felt a potent surge of power. It was unlike anything she had experienced, except for when she had activated the spell with him. Even now, her mind was buzzing, and her fingers tingled like an electrical current was passing through her.
It made her afraid to go to sleep, sure that she would experience more nightmares, more premonitions. But the thought of staying awake all night with her thoughts and the wretchedness she felt inside was even scarier than facing her nightmares.
Surely, things couldn't get worse now. And as she slipped into her bed, still wet and shivering, she realized she felt done.
She knew she had a meeting in the morning at the Tower, and she knew he would be there, too. She had no idea if she would go - she would only know tomorrow, after a night's sleep.
But after that.. well. She needed a break.
Surely, Kaldur would understand. Even if he didn't, it didn't matter. She had to get out of here – she felt like she couldn't breathe. Like this apartment, Gotham, the very state of New Jersey, was smothering her and making her unable to think clearly.
There was only one thing she knew for sure.
She was lost.
Wowza, that was a whole thing!
Full disclosure: When I planned out this story, I had two places where I thought their reunion might take place. This was one of them. But as I wrote on, I realized Morgan hasn't done nearly enough growth to be there yet. If they got back together now, they'd just end up repeating past mistakes.
There was also a problem with narrative satisfaction. While their relationship bleeds through the whole story, narratively the Red Hood subplot doesn't lead towards a reunion between the two of them, because this subplot was a lot more about digging into Morgan's personal insecurities and struggles. Instead, the culmination of this subplot became about blowing her insecurities wide open and forcing her to grapple with them. She's at a place now where she knows that she's lost and she also sort of begins to understand what it is she needs to work on.
I've been very excited to get this chapter out, but also worried because it is perhaps the chapter where Morgan is at her ugliest, and I worry I've gone over the edge and made her unable to root for. So I hope I didn't do that? I hope we all feel sorry for her and think she's an idiot but we still love her and want them to work through this? I think the reason I don't find her irredeemable from this is that I understand her worries and insecurities because, while exaggerated and dramatized, they're somewhat autobiographical lol. I too struggled with not sabotaging my relationship because I felt I was unworthy of it.
All I can say is that Morgan is in for a reckoning with her past.
Ok so music:
Blast from the past for me, but I recommend Before the Storm by Nick Jonas and Miley Cyrus. It really captures that moment where a couple realizes it's over. It also fits the rain and thunder of the scene. I listened to this song on repeat as I planned out this scene so if you give it a listen you'll definitely be able to spot the inspiration, I think.
Closure by Haley Warner fits the twisted logic of Morgan's actions and its also just so raw and bleeding with both the lyrics and the emotions.
And as usual, let me know what you think! I love you guys!