Chapter 5: Fire and Blood

It was something resembling a forest, but it was as if it had been sprung from her worst nightmare. The trees were dark and twisted, blocking her path as she ran. Above, the branches were alive, twisting further and further together into large, impenetrable knots. She couldn't fly away. The few feeble rays of moonlight managing to pierce through were quickly extinguished, covered up, and all too quickly she was fumbling along in complete darkness. Something was chasing her, a score of shadows, their clicking voices vibrating in her head, making it impossible to focus on the path ahead. The darkness became complete. Ahead, a living, yellow and red light drew her, and she stumbled towards it. A large willow tree stood swaying in the darkness, its black outline highlighted by the orange glow behind it. She climbed into the tree, seeking refuge.

There was.. fire. She was running, but her movements were sluggish – she was too tired to stay focused and her eyes kept blinking in and out of awareness. She was in a building, an unknown building. Every floor had walls and walls of fire, but they did not burn her. Not yet. She was carrying a bundle close to her chest. She knew it was important, but she did not know why, or even what it was. Every floor she reached, there was more fire. Up, up, up she went but the burning building seemed never to end.

A figure was closing in on her. It was big and imposing, and somehow the fire did not hurt it. It was nothing but a black silhouette, moving fluidly like it was made of shadow and smoke, not even the bright fires managing to illuminate it. The smoke was chasing her too, trying to grab at her heels, trying to block her path. But she had to run, had to get away, from the smoke and the fire and the building and the dark figure..

She reached a dead end. The walls were pure, live fire now, moving ever closer, the roof groaning and threatening to cave in. From the staircase moved the wraithlike shadow, cutting off any escape. She was caught. Caught by the fire, caught by the smoke and caught by the black figure.

With a scream, the fire jumped on her, and she screamed right back, feeling it grab hold of her hair, her feathers, her clothes, the bundle she was holding.. Her skin singed and burned and the wraith was upon her…

?

Somewhere outside of Gotham

Morgan

Her throat was already raw from screaming when Morgan felt movement come to her and she sat bolt upright. Her vision was completely taken over by gold, molten, hot liquid gold swirling in front of her eyes, blocking out the world. The fire was gone, only a painful memory, but the strong hands of her assailant, the dark wraith, were once again on her. It had grabbed onto her shoulders and were shaking her firmly, and she pushed the figure back, tapping into her telekinesis to throw them off. She felt the wraith fly back, its tight grip on her now gone.

She sat, arms held in front of her to keep the figure trapped, gasping for air as she gathered her wits about her. Slowly the world started to bleed back into her vision. Gray shadows, then the outline of trees, and eventually color.

Pressed against the giant trunk of the fallen tree across from her was Dick, his body shaking from his attempt to break free from her mental grasp, his mouth opening and closing breathlessly and his eyes wide.

"Oh!" she gasped when she realized what she'd done and immediately relinquished her hold on him. He dropped to the ground instantly, landing on his hands and knees. He started coughing dryly and rubbed his neck, a grimace on his face.

"I'm sorry!" she jumped up and landed on her knees in front of him, tentatively placing a hand on his shaking shoulder as he let out another cough. Finally, he settled and cleared his throat. "I didn't realize it was you."

"What.. was that?" he looked at her, clearly irritated and uncomfortable from the pain he was in. He sat back, leaning against the fallen tree, and grimaced again as he rubbed at his neck.

Morgan bit her lip and sat down too, embarrassed by what she'd done. "I.. had a nightmare."

"You were screaming," he stated, his voice hard. He seemed shaken by what had transpired. "Like you were being tortured."

"I was burning alive," she admitted, uncomfortable by sharing her dream, but wanting to defend herself. "There was something chasing me. I.. I thought you were it."

"I was trying to wake you up before your screaming blew our cover," he said sourly. "Let's hope I succeeded."

She pushed her bangs out of her face, looking nervously over her shoulder at the terrain beyond. sunlight was streaming through the thick canopy, illuminating the forest in a rich, honey-gold light. Birds were chirping and wind was rustling the top of the trees, making spots of sunlight dance across the mossy ground. She supposed it would've been a beautiful and peaceful place under different circumstances. Now, she was on high alert, her ears straining to hear anything approaching.

"Your eyes," Dick's voice drew her attention back onto him, his tone worried, "They were glowing – it was like a golden film was covering them."

"Yeah, I've been, uuh," Morgan cleared her throat, "I've been seeing gold across my vision a few times since we arrived."

"And you didn't tell me?"

She frowned. "Why would I?" she got up and took a few steps back, feeling her wings flutter in agitation. "It's not like you could help. Besides," she watched as he got up too, her stomach twisting with uncertainty at her next words, "it's not like I – like any of us – have to tell each other anything, anymore."

He was studying her cautiously. The wind rustled the canopy above and a ray of sunlight hit his face, the black locks framing his features turning brown beneath the light. The warmth of the light illuminated his tan skin and made his blue eyes stand out that much more. There was an unfathomable look in them that made her deeply unsettled.

"Don't we?" he asked, and his voice was so low it felt like the timbre was vibrating in her very bones. His gaze upon her was heavy, and it made her turn away almost instantly.

"We should get going. We've got a long trek ahead of us if we want to reach Gotham." She mumbled, looking at the ground, pretending it was to better watch where she was going. With feigned confidence, she started walking, escaping their little nook, and heading into the woods.

"Morgan," Dick called for her after a few seconds. His voice was calm, his tone blank. She halted in her steps and did her best to pick up something resembling courage before turning around to face him. He was still studying her, but now his face was carefully blank. "You're going the wrong way,"

She blinked. "Right," she said and motioned for him to lead the way. "You go first."

Later that same day

Somewhere outside of Gotham

Morgan

Morgan's stomach let out a painful gurgle and she clutched at it with a tired sigh. When was it she'd last eaten? Last night, at the wedding? Except she'd been too heartsick to really eat a whole lot back then, so she'd been mostly picking at her plate. Lunch, then, which meant it was at least twenty-four hours ago.

Morgan looked ahead at the reason for her lack of appetite the previous day. Dick was walking in front of her, occasionally pushing branches out of the way. His back was straight and broad as ever, his eyes focused on the road, using the sun above to chart their course. He didn't seem tired or hungry as she was, though she was sure he must've been. Like always, he was a master at hiding how he was feeling, keeping his focus on the mission at hand.

Unlike her, he didn't even seem all that bothered that they were stuck together in this foreign situation. Was he truly already over their breakup? So quickly? Was she just a member of the League to him now, and nothing else? She'd seen him flirt with Starfire, after all. Maybe he was already moving on with someone else, and she'd be forced to watch them fall in love.

Morgan looked at her feet and hugged herself around her torso, trying to distract the squeezing of her heart by squeezing her body tighter. The tighter her heart felt, the tighter she hugged herself. She felt wetness rise in her eyes.

A distraction! She needed a distraction.

She tried to focus on naming the trees she saw. Birch, oak, pine..

Okay, she didn't actually know anymore kinds of trees. She was born and raised in Gotham! There were no trees in that forsaken city.

She looked at the back of his head, his dark hair falling in wavy patterns that she hadn't noticed before because he'd always kept his hair so short.

There was that wetness again.

Like an arrow struck through her, she was overcome with the need to place some distance between them, get out of this forest, out of his presence, and breath some air, unencumbered by the heavy weight that was dragging her down.

"I'm going to scout ahead a bit." She mumbled, pinpointing a break in the canopy up ahead that she could fly out of. Dick looked at her and she could instantly see that he was about to protest, so she flew off before he got the chance to.

She zoomed up and out of the trees, feeling the warm rays of the sun caress her face, and she closed her eyes with a relieved sigh. The cool wind that blew through her hair and feathers felt like it was washing away the pressure she'd been building up inside. She hated being stuck places where her wings couldn't move. Most apartments and houses were okay because she wasn't meant to fly in those anyway, but when she was outside, it felt restrictive. As her wings had grown bigger, so too had her need for freedom, for wide open spaces she could roam. The quiet when she was up in the air by herself was the closest she ever felt she got to true peace of mind. Sometimes, she felt her wings had gotten too large, to the point of them being restrictive. She had needed to upgrade the size of her bed because they'd keep hanging out. She struggled to squeeze into her shower and washing them was a nightmare. She would gladly accept the downsides, however, as long as she could continue to indulge this feeling of freedom.

Opening her eyes and blinking from the bright sun, she decided to do as she'd said she would, and scout ahead. The sky was clear, and the heat of the sun created ripples across the sky, making the edge of the forest dance. But at least she could see the edge of the thick woods. They stretched on for what she could tell would be maybe an hour of trekking, but they were, at least, coming to an end in the foreseeable future. Just ahead, she spotted a tall pine which stuck out of the canopy like a jagged spear. It must've been one of the oldest trees in the forest, as it was much taller than the surrounding trees. She flew over and settled into it, balancing on a thick branch.

For a moment, she sat and looked the landscape ahead, trying to stretch out the moment before she'd have to return to the forest. She knew Dick was waiting for her, probably not happy about her flying off. Maybe that was why she lingered – to avoid that confrontation.

Her tranquility was broken when a low hum made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and she looked behind her. She had only a split second to react, as her turn revealed a blaster shot coming right at her. Pushing away from the tree, the branch she'd been sitting on a second ago splintered into a thousand pieces. A Reach ship was fast approaching, firing another shot at her, which she dodged as well. The dark hull with the orange windows resembled an angry insect, charging straight for her.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, the appearance of the ship such a shock that it took her mind a second to catch up to what her body had seen and reacted to.

Thank god for superhero-reflexes, she thought as she assessed the situation. Her first instinct was to dive for the trees and disappear, but she halted her flight as several issues presented themselves to her. Firstly, she had no way of knowing if the ship had technology that could track her even when hidden by the trees. Then, even if it did not, and they managed to lose the ship, what was to stop the ship from alerting a whole armada and surrounding the forest, making escape impossible?

And even then, something even more important made her stop. Nightwing was down there, and the ship had large guns, which it could use from a distance. He had no way of defending himself from it – what was he going to do, throw his eskrima sticks at it?

Morgan came to the realization that she'd have to take this ship down now, before any of her worries came to pass. For a second, it was scary – yes, she'd defeated one of them before, but she'd had backup then. But with the clear realization of what she had to do, came a steely resolve and a focused mind. She had to think fast. An idea sprung into her mind as she eyed the gigantic pine, she'd been sitting in. Stretching her hands out, she tugged at the mighty tree, and with a deep groan and many splinters, it broke in half. It now resembled a large spear, floating freely in the air. Keeping a tight mental grip on it, she somersaulted over her shoulder and flew far back, trying to put some distance between her and the aircraft. She'd been doggedly dodging the seemingly endless volley of laser blasts and knew she had to act fast, before her concentration slipped, and the ship managed to hit her.

She moved her spear into position. With a deep sigh and an exaggerated heave, she drew her arm back and then threw it forward, tossing the pine tree with all her might. It shot forward; collision eminent. The soldiers inside the aircraft had no time to react and maneuver out of the way; with a loud crash, the windshield splintered. Morgan folded her wings and allowed herself to drop down below, aware that stray blastershots still presented a danger. Sparks erupted as the wooden beam undoubtedly damaged the interior beyond repair. Her telekinetic push had been so powerful, the tree passed all the way through the ship and pierced through the rear.

Resembling a wounded animal, the ship shuttered in the air for a moment. The lights flickered before going out entirely. Then, with a mighty groan, it started falling.

"Oh," Morgan realized too late that she was floating right in its trajectory. Turning tail, she headed for the canopy below. Hoping if she could dip below the trees, that they may hinder the ship from crashing into her.

Branches wiped at her face and obscured her vision as she hit the tree line. In the back of her mind, she worried about Dick, hoping he wasn't standing right beneath her, hoping he had seen the ship and was getting out of the way and hoping he wasn't too mad at her for attracting the Reach to begin with.

As she broke free from the thick canopy, her fears were confirmed. Nightwing was standing below, looking more confused than angry, but very much in the way of the incoming ship.

"Get out of the way!" she cried as she approached him. The crashing ship reached the trees and it started raining wooden splinters upon them. Morgan gasped as she felt one pierce her left wing. The sharp pain made her lose her momentum and she dropped like a stone. Landing on her hands and knees, she wasted no time in getting up and running.

"Sparrow!" Dick called, turning back around to pull her up. The ship was bearing down upon them, and Morgan realized in an instant that they weren't going to get out of there in time. Oh shit.

She took the hand Dick had offered her and grabbed onto it tightly before turning towards the approaching ship. Everything happened in a few seconds, but she felt as if time had slowed down as she trained her focus onto the ship. With a telekinetic push, she set up a wall between them and the ship. It hurtled towards her mental wall, and she prayed that it was enough to stop it, or they were both going to get crushed. The ship crashed into the wall, and the kinetic energy was like an explosion. A shockwave pulsed through the air from the collision and as it reached the two heroes, they went flying back. Morgan felt all air leave her lungs as if a giant fist had punched her, sending her hurtling through the air. Her hand was wrenched from Dicks, and in the tumult, she lost track of where he was.

She landed several feet away, rolling along the moss-covered undergrowth. Her wing, which had surely been pierced by a wayward branch, was throbbing. She got up on her knees and found Dick lying six feet away, groaning as he sat up.

Silence fell in the wake of the pandemonium, interrupted only by a low buzzing emitting from the downed ship. Morgan and Dick looked at each other with wide eyes and bated breaths. Then, from within the ship, they could hear shuffling. A hatch opened and Reach Soldiers started spilling out. They resembled a pack of angry wasps, whose hive had just been swatted at by a pair of unruly kids.

Dick, having reached her side, pulled Morgan up by her elbow. "Time to go," he said, legging it into the thick underbrush.

Always with the running, Morgan thought as she went after him, wondering if they were ever going to get to relax. Once this was all over, she was going to sleep for a week. A Reach soldier fired a shot that whizzed past her shoulder, only just missing her, and it was all the encouragement she needed to keep running.

"Why," she huffed out her question between heavy breaths, "why aren't we just taking them head on?"

"Did you see them?" Dick shot back, and she hated that he didn't even sound out of breath a little bit. "They were armed to the teeth, wearing heavy armor, and there was at least two dozen of them!"

Fair point.

She understood that as long as they had no idea what was going on, where – or when – they were, getting captured was out of the question. They had to evade open combat, lest they should be caught and separated. There was no backup for them.

They kept running, the furious Reach soldiers never far behind. Their clicky language became a foreboding buzzing, breathing down their necks. With every step she took, Morgan's wing was smarting where it had been hit. She hadn't had the chance to look at it yet but from the wetness she could feel seeping into her feathers, she knew it was bleeding. She could feel her energy draining fast, their lack of food finally getting to her.

Trees flew past them as they kept winding in and out of the overgrown brush, trying to shake their pursuers.

"We need a better plan," Morgan gasped when they'd been running for ten minutes and were no closer to escaping. "This way."

She led them past a giant oak, which had thick, thorny bushes growing on either side. As they ran past it, she turned and threw out her arm, fingers spread wide. The tree fell, blocking their path and blocking them from view. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it would buy them a few seconds to disappear. She could hear the soldiers angrily clicking

"There!" Dick said, pointing ahead. He was already running again, and Morgan followed suit. She saw so tired, it took her a few seconds to look up from her slumped running, to see where he was taking them.

A jolt passed through her as if struck by an electrical current, and she stumbled over a root. The tree...

The willow tree from her dream stood before them, old and large and creepy. The long, wispy branches hung low over the ground, swaying in the wind like the delicate skirt of a dancer. She wanted to grab Dick and tell him not to go near it, so startled was she to see it. Then again, she wondered if perhaps she hadn't seen it in her dream precisely because that was where they were meant to hide?

She couldn't help but feel it was a huge gamble to go to the tree, but she squashed down that feeling and followed. Dick reached it first and offered her a leg up, all but launching her into the tall tree. She grabbed hold of the lowest branch, the rough bark digging into her hands as she scrambled up. Her cheeks colored when she felt Dicks hands boost her up by her butt, but she appreciated the help, nonetheless. Once she was in the tree, she climbed higher, the thick network of branches providing the perfect hiding spot. She could hear the soldiers draw nearer and knew they had seconds until they were upon them. Sweat erupted on her brow.

They were taking a chance – if they were discovered in the tree, they would have no choice but to fight their way out. However, if they could hide well enough, they would evade the aliens and be free. Still, the fact that she had dreamed of the tree worried her. How had she known? How had her sleeping mind conjured the exact situation they were in? In the dream, she'd also been running from assailants, and with a start, she realized that she remembered the same angry clicking noises being there.

The trunk of the tree sloped to the side, providing her with a fairly comfortable place to lean her back against, out of view. She folded her wings tightly against her back, knowing the light gray appendages would be a big giveaway, should they be visible. She watched as Dick lithely launched himself into the tree, reaching her branch in seconds. She leaned back to allow him access, pressing against the trunk further. Below, the Reach soldiers had reached their hiding spot and she held her breath.

Dick made a small noise of surprise and then, suddenly, he was upon her. In an instant, she froze as his body was pressed to hers, his entire front touching her. She was about to make some indignant noise and push him off when his gloved hand came up to cover her mouth.

"Quiet, they're below us," he hissed, and she could feel his lips brush against her ear, sending shivers up and down her spine. Suddenly, he was everywhere. His familiar scent – the product he used to style his hair, the sweat from his suit, the leftover trace of the cologne he'd worn at the wedding – filled her nose. His hand was covering her mouth and his arm was pressed between her breasts, held there by their connected torsos. Worst of all, one of his thighs were firmly planted between her legs. A familiar heat erupted low in her stomach and her mind started reeling. Unbidden, images of the past, memories, flitted across her mind. Nights where he'd been all she could comprehend as they entangled themselves in his bed, souls and bodies becoming one as they gave themselves to each other again and again. She was reminding of how well he knew her body, how he had touched, caressed, claimed, marked, seen, loved every single inch of it, and how she had answered in kind.

Breaking out of her stupor, Morgan felt lightheaded and realized it was because she'd been holding her breath. Her heart was pounding, and she was scared he would feel it, pressed against her as he was.

Another, painful sensation registered in her mind, and she realized her wounded wing was being squished, and she tried to subtly readjust. Glancing down, her heart caught in her throat at the sight of two Reach soldiers standing directly beneath the tree. She looked back up, hoping to convey they presence to Dick with only her eyes. The moment their eyes met, she realized it had been a mistake. He as propped directly in front of her, his face so close she'd brushed his nose with hers when she had moved. Her breath caught in her throat again and she was incredibly relieved that they both wore masks. She knew seeing those eyes would've been her undoing.

For an excruciating second, their breaths intermingled and she thought about how easy it would be to lean in..

Morgan quickly turned back to look over her shoulder.

"Your wing is bleeding." Dick's voice was scarcely more than a breath and their proximity was the only reason she could hear him.

"I know," she whispered back, grimacing at the sight of the wooden spike still lodged in it. She didn't understand how it wasn't hurting more, but suspected it was because it was in her wings – her human brain wasn't wired to comprehend a pair of wings and she often felt like they were more of an afterthought in her system. She'd often gotten home from a mission and found cuts, dried blood and mangled feathers on her wings, when she hadn't once registered any pain from them.

"It's dripping," he hissed with worry.

Morgan watched as the blood oozed, gathering in a thick drop at the tip of a feather before falling into the grass below. Inching to look over the side, her heart caught in her throat. The Reach soldier had just taken a step forward and now stood directly in the trajectory of her falling blood. If it fell onto him, surely their cover would be blown.

A new drop was gathering. With bated breath, she watched as it accumulated into another large drop, poised to fall any second now.

She let out a soundless gasp as it fell, just as the Reach soldier took another step forward. The blood fell inches from him and disappeared in the thick grass. The soldier walked on and disappeared from view.

The clicky alien language grew distant as the soldiers went away until, eventually, the forest grew quiet.

Morgan waited another ten seconds to make sure they were truly out of range. Then she could bear it no longer. She placed both hands on Dicks chest and pushed him away roughly.

"Get off of me!" she said, voice indignant and pitchy.

Dick jumped away as if burned and he sent her a glare. "I wasn't on you," he said, but then he paused and looked apologetic and awkward. "I- I slipped and fell. And then I couldn't move because they were right below us. I'm sorry."

She wasn't sure what shocked her more – that Dick had apologized, or that he'd actually slipped. He must've been more tired and hungry than he let on.

Morgan knew her face was beet red, so she decided to divert the conversation.

"Let's just go," she said, poking her head down to check for Reach.

"Let me check on your wing first," Dick offered. "That way we can be sure they're really gone."

"Are you crazy?" Morgan challenged and she was sure the look on her face was fierce, "If we stick around here, they'll definitely call for backup, and backup that has some method of tracking us. This forest is a trap waiting to happen!"

Dick frowned, obviously hating being challenged on what he considered a mission. "We would've been fine if you hadn't flown up and alerted them."

"I was scouting!"

"You were being careless!" Morgan opened her mouth in shocked offense and Dick seemed to realize the road they were heading down, because he held out a placating hand and backtracked.

"Nevermind, forget what I said. Please just let me look at your wing, you can't run around bleeding like that."

He looked at her beseechingly, but Morgan stubbornly shook her head. He was already blaming her for alerting the soldiers, which she knew was fair, but she wasn't going to be the reason they were ultimately caught in this stupid wood.

"I can much better deal with an injured wing than getting captured by the Reach." With that, she jumped out of the tree and started walking.

Dick swung down and stalked after her. "You!" he sounded breathless for the first time since they'd gotten stuck there, and she realized it was from sheer disbelief at her. "You are so stubborn!"

Morgan let out a single, humorless laugh. "Ha! Pot, meet kettle!"

His face was thunderous, and she was sure if he was a dog, he'd be growling up a storm by now. Casting a quick look over her shoulder and seeing the look on his face, she wouldn't have put it past him to start growling either way.

"Get us out of here fast and then you can treat my wing. We're close, I saw it when I was scouting." She walked on, but Dick, with his much longer legs, quickly got ahead and stood in her path, stopping her in her tracks. He stood with crossed arms, and she mimicked his stance, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"You literally have a piece of timber sticking out of it." he pointed out, sound calmer than a moment ago. "Let me look at it. It'll take five minutes. At least let me add a compression bandage to stop the bleeding."

"I told you, I'm fine!" she wasn't sure why, but the harder he argued, the more compelled she was to stand her ground. It was childish at this point, because he was probably right; she should have it treated, and it hurt quite a bit. But she didn't want him to win. For once, she wanted to win, even if it was a stupid victory.

"You're just being childish for no reason!" he looked angry again. She took a step back, wanting him to get out of her space. This was all getting to be too much. She was tired and hungry, and she was stuck in a stupid forest with the last person on earth that she wanted to be around. Her body was still trembling from the way he'd been pressed against her up in the tree, and her eyes unbiddenly traced the form of his strong arms as they lay crossed over his chest. She felt a manic energy hit her and it was like she'd gotten into a car that was spinning out of control, and she was incapable of stopping it.

It was all boiling over for her, and in an impulsive rage, before she had a second to consider what she was doing, she reached over and yanked out the piece of wood that was lodged in her wing.

The pain was excruciating, and her eyes grew wide, tears instantly rising to cloud her vision. Her knees felt like jelly, but she willed herself to stay up, squaring her jaw and blinking away tears.

Dick was gaping at her. "Are you nuts?" he asked incredulously. "Do you want to never fly again?"

She stood for another few seconds, eyes closed, jaw tight and hands clenched, as she waited for the first wave of pain to pass. The pain instantly brought her back down to earth and out of her own head, and she realized how much of a fuss she was making due to pride and nothing else.

She didn't dare open her eyes because she knew Dick was watching her with that disappointed leader face, that she was once again being the unreasonable one.

But was it really so bad to prioritize getting to safety over treating her wound? She just didn't want to risk getting captured – then they'd have much bigger issues than her bleeding wing!

She contemplated just walking off. But the thought of him chasing her down and chiding her for being stubborn and illogical was too humiliating, so she opened her eyes and looked around them for some place to sit. Sitting down on a fallen tree trunk, she made sure to face away from him. It was silent for a moment, and then she heard him head over and crouch down behind her.

He was fast and efficient; she'd give him that. He had the good sense to keep his mouth shut while he worked. His fingers moved gingerly over her limb, applying the tight bandage quickly and gently.

It was almost too gentle, the touch making her heart ache. She didn't really like for people to touch her wings, and seldom allowed it, but with him she'd never minded. He knew this specific way she liked to be stroked counter to the direction of her wings, and it always felt like when someone scratches your head after you've had your hair stuck in a high ponytail.

She recalled how at night, when they would just lie in bed and talk, he liked to gently brush through her feathers and correct any that stuck out at an odd angle. Often, he would become completely engrossed in the task, so he'd forget to keep their conversation going. She'd trail off after his third of fourth noncommittal "hmm", realizing he wasn't actually paying attention anymore, and just watch him sort through her feathers.

Morgan clawed her way out of the memory, attempting to escape the aching in her chest, and stared at the willow tree she sat facing, thinking about her dream. In it, she'd climbed the willow and then promptly ended up in a burning building, running from some unknown entity.

Was that part of the dream going to come true as well?

She bit her lip and looked away from the tree. Not knowing what to make of her supposedly prophetic dream, she tried to cast her worry aside.

Should she tell Dick about it? Considering it for only a second, she immediately decided not to. He probably wouldn't believe her anyway, as he never seemed to do. He already thought she was crazy for her behavior over her wing – he would probably throw her straight into Arkham if she told him about this too. Well, if Arkham hadn't just burned down.

"There," Dick said, finishing off her bandage. Morgan quickly got up, wrestling with herself on whether she should thank him or not.

"Thanks," she bit out and started walking.

He stomped ahead and she rolled her eyes. She knew what this was about. Dick was so used to being the leader when he was out, when he was in his hero suit, that being disobeyed grinded his gears like nothing else. True, that was usually because things went wrong when someone disobeyed him – his instincts in battle were unbeatable, and his gift for strategizing was superhuman. There was a reason he was the natural leader of the Team. She was sure if she'd still been part of the Team, he would've pulled rank, but she wasn't. She was a leaguer now, which meant he couldn't boss her around, and she didn't have to listen to him.

Not that she had ever been very good at listening to him, even when he was her leader and mentor.

She wasn't sure why he was still angry – he'd gotten his way, after all. Her wing was bandaged, and they hadn't moved on in the woods yet. She started walking faster at the thought, wanting to get out of this stupid forest as fast as possible. She was so ready to reach Gotham.

On they walked. Before, if the silence had been somewhat amicable, now it was tense. Dick walked a few paces ahead of her, his shoulders looking tense, and she knew he was angry. She felt wretched about the whole ordeal. Why had she been so childish? Stuff like this was probably exactly why Dick had gotten tired of her when they were still together, why he'd fallen out of love with her – something he'd never admitted to her, but which Morgan knew was true.

She was an idiot. Once again, her stubbornness and temper had run off with her and it was a stark reminder of why she was fundamentally so unlovable, why she always managed to scare people away, why it had always just been a matter of time before Dick had broken up with her.

Her eyes welled up again and this time she wasn't quick enough to stop a few tears from falling. She wiped furiously at them, aware that he could turn around at any second.

She was just hungry. That's why she was so emotional. She needed food – when were they going to arrive at Gotham? She was starving! Surely, they must've been close by now.

Her stomach gave a loud gurgle and she clutched at it, sighing. Her throat was dry as a bone and she wasn't sure which she missed most; food, or water.

"Wish we had some food," she mumbled, not sure if she intended for him to hear it or not.

"Don't you have some emergency rations in your belt?" his voice was carefully passive, but some of the tightness in his shoulders released. The change of topic did them well.

She shrugged, clearing her throat to keep her previous tears out of her voice. "Ran out a few weeks ago and haven't gotten around to restocking."

"Well, there you go." He was launching into another mentor-lecture. God, Morgan hated those. "Now you know why your belt always has to be fully stocked."

"Well, what about you?" she asked, her voice thick with scorn. "Do you have any food?"

His back straightened and his shoulders retightened. Morgan, despite her miserable state, couldn't help a victorious smirk.

"I ran out two days ago and forgot to restock," he admitted, the words leaving his mouth like it was hurting him to speak them.

"Well," she poured every ounce of smarmy superiority into her voice as was possible, "there you go."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," he said, stopping in his tracks.

"Why?" she asked, reaching his side.

"Because we're here." He answered, pulling aside a branch so thick with leaves, it had obscured her view.

Ahead of them, looking grungy and gloomy as always, was Gotham. The forest had been sunny for most of the morning, but as they'd walked closer to the dark city, clouds had slowly gathered, and now the sky was overcast and gray. Just as usual.

What was not usual, however, were the Reach ships hovering in the air above the city. On first glance, Gotham didn't appear as destroyed as Metropolis had been, but Morgan feared it was only a question of time. The city had been emptied, just as Metropolis, and she sensed what came next was the destruction.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she tried to focus on the positive. At least, they had finally arrived and would be walking through familiar streets instead of that forest.

"Oh my god, home sweet home!" Morgan cried with relief, happy to get out of the stupid nature and into her dingy city. Dick shot her a weird look. She jogged ahead, happy when her feet hit a solid sidewalk instead of the soft moss they'd been trekking through. Soon, rundown apartment buildings and gothic architecture swallowed up their view of the sky.

"I've never met anyone that was happy to arrive at Gotham." Dick said with bemusement. For once, he let her lead.

"You wouldn't get it, you're not from here." She dismissed him, looking around. Despite feeling safe in her home city, a sense of foreboding was trickling down her back. It was eerie, seeing the streets abandoned.

"I've lived here most of my life."

"You grew up in a travelling circus and then moved to a luxury manor at the outskirts of town," She argued, "hardly the true Gothamite experience. Here!" she pointed across the street at a grocery store. It was closed, but the door wasn't boarded up, and Morgan could see wares on display in the window, meaning it hadn't been emptied.

The two heroes snuck like a pair of shadows across the street, suspiciously eyeing every angle around them. Once they reached the door, Dick picked the lock and let them inside. Morgan immediately went looking for some bottled water, her parched throat aching. Dick hovered at the front, looking through newspapers.

The store was dusty, and the air felt stuffy. It must've been closed for some time, judging by the musty smell in the air. She rounded the corner of the isle she'd walked down and grimaced at the sight before her. What she assumed had once been the fruit and vegetable section, was now all but a pile of mold.

"That explains the musty smell," she mumbled to herself. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Dick standing still at the newsstand up front, and she ducked out of view, heading for the coolers she spotted near the back. As soon as she got out of view, she released a breath of air she felt like she'd been holding since they had been zapped into this place. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes for a second, wishing that the wretched feeling in her chest would disappear. Not for the first time, she bitterly wished she'd been stuck here with anyone other than him.

She stood there for no more than a few seconds before her desire for water won out over her misery. Pushing herself off the wall, she looked into the coolers, and though they clearly hadn't been plugged into a power source for months, if not years, the bottles inside still looked fresh and inviting.

Taking a sip of the lukewarm water, she let out a small groan of relief. Then, she guzzled down the entire bottle, hoping it wouldn't disagree with her empty stomach. She knew what it was like to starve and thirst. She'd tried it on the War World, after all. After that experience, she'd hoped to never endure it again. Luckily, this time, it had only been a day instead of four. From her experience on the War World, she also knew that the effects wouldn't be that long term, as long as she got something to eat soon. She stocked up on five water bottles and decided to head back. She needed a bag to carry their provisions in.

Rejoining Nightwing, she was pleased to see he'd been hunting for food and had provided them with a small collection of granola bars, chips and a few cakes with a very long shelf life.

"Water." she offered him a bottle, which he gratefully took, chugging the entire thing in five seconds. It comforted her somewhat, knowing he must've been as thirsty as her.

She started packing everything up in a plastic bag as Dick kept leafing through newspapers.

"Take a look at this," he said, laying a paper down on the counter she was stood by. He pointed at the date.

Morgan frowned and pushed a stray curl out of her face to make absolutely sure she was reading correctly.

"Twenty twenty-one? But that's three years into the future!"

"Guess not here," Dick sighed, folding up the paper and sliding it away. "I checked through the pile; this was the most recent one."

"That tells us nothing, though, this place has clearly been abandoned for months." Morgan looked across the dilapidated store and the cobwebs accumulating in every corner.

"Well, we know that we're at least three, maybe four years into the future," Dick said, and it was almost like she only just then understood what this meant.

"Holy shit." Morgan bit into her bottom lip, mind reeling. She'd never time travelled before.

A bigger and more pressing question presented itself. If this was indeed the future.. what was the Reach doing here?

"So, what the hell happened?" She grimaced. "Are we really saying the Reach will completely take over Earth within the next five years?"

Dick looked grim, but he gave her a firm nod. "I guess so."

"Well, we've gotta stop it!" she said frantically, pushing her damn curls out of her face once again. Her wings fluttered with agitation. "We have to get back so we can warn everyone!"

"We will," he assured her, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "That's why we're heading for the cave."

A look passed between them, as the gravity of their situation settled like a heavy blanket on their shoulders. If they couldn't get back home, their friends were all doomed. Morgan didn't care what it took - if she had to build a damn time machine herself, she was getting back home.

She fixed him with a burning look, the fate of every person she knew and loved resting on her. "By whatever means necessary. We were sent here for a reason."

He hesitated, perhaps taken aback by the intensity in her gaze, perhaps because she knew Dick wasn't a big subscriber to fate, and she was clearly suggesting this was it. Then, he squared his jaw and nodded.

"By whatever means necessary."

Her stomach tightened for a moment, the phrase starting to sound like an unbreakable vow to her.

The store fell silent. Outside, they became aware of the sound of many moving feet, their strides falling into a rhythmic beat.

The two heroes ducked behind the counter they were stood at, peeking out over the top. A score of Reach soldiers marched in step, many rows in perfect synchrony. Their leader was taller than the rest, and he wore a big, ornate helmet.

"Reach," Dick said, his voice a low and poisonous hiss, his eyes narrowed with hatred.

"We need to get out of here," Morgan mumbled, ducking back down and leaning her back against the counter. "But what are we going to do, if the streets are crawling with Reach?"

"We get underground," Dick said, motioning for her to follow him as he moved away on all fours.

Morgan swallowed dryly at the thought.

shit.

I kinda love this chapter. Their constant back and forth was so much fun to write - and I loved diving a little bit more into Morgan's thoughts on the whole thing. She really does try her best, but she's also just a clumsy person - both physically, but also emotionally. At least, she seemed to be mostly aware of her own shortcomings. And she's gotten better at admitting defeat.

Also their situation is slowly unfolding! The future! That's exciting, right?

I hope you enjoyed, and please don't forget to let me know what you think! The last chapter only got 1 review and that was a bit of a downer for me because I love that chapter and I had been excited to hear your thoughts on it, so it sucked not really getting any thoughts :(