Batman crouched on top of the abandoned warehouse, carefully observing the scene below him. The building was fairly large, and it was quite a ways to the ground, yet he could still hear every word the dealers were saying.
"You got my money?" the short, burly man announced, the ten people behind him raising their guns in a threatening manner.
"Yep, you have my goods?" a tall, lanky man replied, an almost smug smirk on his face as he held up a small briefcase. The dealer gave a slimy grin in response.
"When don't I, Ron?" he questioned in good humor, earning a small chuckle from 'Ron'.
"Very true," Ron commented, still happy to see his old aquantince. But his tone then turned serious. "But we better hurry this up, caught wind of a possible Bat arriving in 'Haven. Not concrete knowledge, but don't want to take that chance."
At the mention of Batman, the burly man seemed surprised, while the silent observer only scowled lightly.
He had tried to make his entry into the city as discreet as possible. To not disturb the local crime, of course, as he had learned from experience the sudden appearance of a hero in a different city can complicate the natural order of crime.
But, obviously, his efforts were in vain (most likely because of his massive, Bat-themed jet), as someone had seen him enter the city. Which also meant that he may have blown a possible chance of getting information on the new vigilante. If he had heard of the Dark Knight presence in Bludhaven, he may decide to stick to the shadows for the night to avoid any confrontation.
"The Bat? In Bludhaven? Please, he's way too protective of Gotham, there's no way he would come here." he paused, taking a nervous look around as if he knew someone was there, watching the transaction. "All we have to worry about is that new one who's calling this place his. What's his name again?"
Ron shot his compliance a incredulous look. "Really? You actually believed all that bull in the news? It's probably just the media trying to scare people like us. And they've never even given him a name yet, anyway."
Batman gave a slight huff of irritation. He was getting his hopes up that, just possibly, the criminals might have more knowledge than the public. They were the ones who should be concerned, after all. Obviously, that wasn't the case.
"Whatever, just give me my money, I'll give you the goods, and we'll get out of here." Danny announced, two of his other ten men bringing forward a large bag of white powder. Ron brought up the briefcase once more, and both men smirked maliciously as they exchanged goods and turned away.
At first, it looked as if they were about to go their separate ways. Danny rounded up all of his men, and Ron continued the other way, seemingly alone. Batman tensed, ready to intervene. He couldn't just let these two get away with a drug deal, quite literally, under his nose.
Then, just as a slight breeze blew past, all the men froze, much to the Dark Knight confusion.
They traded, had a nice chat, and now they were free to do what they pleased, right? What made them hesitate? What didn't he see?
Unbeknownst to him, carried in the breeze was a barely audible whisper of a voice, only heard by the people on ground level. What it said made all of them stopped in their tracks, horrified by the spine chilling whisper.
Batman raised a quizzical eyebrow as he observed the men, now frantically scanning their surroundings. The ten men with weapons raised them once more, ready to shoot anything and everything. Ron clutched his bag of drugs to his chest, while Danny did something much similar to the briefcase fill of money.
Then, a deep chuckle penetrated the air, instantly jolting Batman out of his confusion. The men became even more fidgity and frightened, Ron almost to the point of shaking.
The Dark Knight, however, couldn't be more focused and alert. He scanned the area trying to pinpoint exactly where the voice came from, coming up with nothing.
Surrounding the area were a multitude of abandoned and withering buildings, excellent for going unnoticed. That is where he checked first, but couldn't see any movement or unnatural shadows through the cracks, broken windows, and gaping holes.
The most frustrating part was other than the buildings, there were minimal places to possible conceal yourself. There were some crates and dumpsters, but from his point of view, anyone hiding there should have been clearly visible. Even if they were highly trained.
"B-Batman?" Ron stuttered, still clutching on the bag of drugs like a lifeline. There was a tense pause where everything was silent, before there was a very irritated and somewhat puzzled sigh.
"What the hell? When have you ever heard Batman laugh?" a more upbeat, younger voice asked incredulously, but still with slight humor. Time skipped a beat and no one replied, and after a moment, a figure seemed to evaporate from the shadows.
The sight made Batman suck in a silent breath.
Standing behind the men armed with guns was a tall, well built man. But he still seemed lean, as if he hadn't toned his body to the extreme. From his vantage point, Batman could see that the articles were correct to state he looked to be a young man. In fact, he didn't look any older than twenty-two. He wore a tight, black spandex uniform with armour plates, a blue bird with outstretched wings covering his chest, along with several blue accents running along the entirety of his suit. There were Kevlar plates along the arms, chest, and legs, but not to the point where it would restrict any movement. He bore a completely black utility belt along his waist, with two Ecrisma sticks strapped across his back.
In all honesty, it looked like typical hero or villain ware, but what caught Batman off-guard were his visible facial features.
He had very dark, midnight black locks that seemed untamed yet controlled at the same time. His complexion had a slightly sun-kissed look, but it didn't look artificial, it seemed as though that was just his natural skin color. He had a very chiseled chin, and Batman had no doubt that without the domino mask covering his eyes, he would be a man ladies would fawn over.
But it was the slightest hint of a smirk on his face that really caught his eye. It seemed so familiar, but he couldn't place where he had seen this man before.
Finally, all the armed men noticed his presence, and they all turned to him with their guns raised as the figure only folded his arms across his chest.
"Seriously, I have never heard him have a good natured laugh, ever." the young man said seriously, but he also cocked a hip out in a slight gesture of sass.
The criminals didn't bother with an answer. Instantly after the words left his mouth, guns went ablaze in a barrage of bullets. Batman was about to intervene out of instinct, but quickly thought better of it as the man almost effortlessly dodged the bullets, hiding behind a nearby crate. This would be a great chance to possible gauge his skill level. And, if need be, threat level.
So, Batman stayed crouching on the roof and continued to watch the scene play out. And even before the masked man could even get started with his offense, the Dark Knight could easily tell this conflict would be interesting, to say the very least.
From his position he could clearly see the masked man pull several small, almost Bat-a-rang looking objects from his belt. Then, with a slight smirk, he quickly stood from behind his cover and three them in rapid succession. He hit five of the ten armed men with pin-point accuracy, which Batman immediately took a mental note of. Their guns dropped at they cried out in pain, and with less artillery fire coming towards him, the man turned offensive.
Effortlessly flipping over the crate in front of him, he ran towards the nearest henchman with lightning speed. Since the man was unfortunate enough to be hit by the vigilante's projectile, he was caught of guard and was unconscious with a swift punch to the temple.
This exact procedure happened three more times before the others finally got their bearings. All at once, the remaining nine men swarmed the masked man, discarding their now empty guns. They cornered him in a circle, and to any normal spectator, it looked like the vigilante had been outmatched, and he was fighting an impossible battle.
Good thing neither spectator nor the supposed 'victim' were normal.
With a now smug look on his face, the mask man launched an attack at two of the men at once. He aimed a punch at one, while the other he attempted to kick. The man managed to successfully kick the man to the ground, but the man he attempted to punch had anticipated the move a jumped back, reeling his own arm back for an attack. He thought fast and immediately flipped backwards, catching the man off guard and slamming his feet into his chin.
Then it was total chaos. Moans of pain, flesh hitting other flesh, and battle cries lifted to the Bats ears as he watched, mesmerized by the vigilante's almost elegant fighting style. Every move was well placed and meant to down, but thankfully, not kill. Which was a relief to Batman, as he did not want such a promising young man turn to the world of crime.
The Dark Knight's form tensed and now stood even more rigid at the edge of the roof as the fight continued below.
Since when has he started giving compliments to complete strangers? And why did he really care if he turned into a criminal, or even worse, a villain? It would just be another person he had to take care of.
But something about this man was different. He seemed to emit an aura of familiarity, but Batman couldn't place it for his life. His voice, figure, fighting style; everything about this man was familiar. But why?
Sadly, he only had a moment to ponder this as the last thug went down, leaving a cowering Danny sweating profusely as he clutched the briefcase. Ron had smartly ditched the scene as soon as the real fight started, and was long gone by the time it had ended. Leaving only one more person to put into prison.
"W-who are you?" he whispered in a quivering voice as the young man approached him. The vigilante towered over the small, burly man, and gave yet another smirk as he swiftly knocked the man unconscious.
"Names Nightwing. Of course, you can't hear me, as you are unconscious. But I wonder if the spectator in the stands heard?" Nightwing said, casually turning to face the exact spot Batman was located, his arms on his hips and a playful grin on his lips.
Batman nearly growled, despite his sudden interest in him, and jumped on the roof to land a few meters away from the other.
"You're the new vigilante?" he asked seriously, trying to get the exact details out of the man.
"Yep," he replied simply, popping the 'p' much like a child would. "But the real question is: how did I do? I know I totally kicked their asses and they never stood a chance, but how'd it look from all the way up there? Probably awesome."
Batman slightly raised an eyebrow at his childish behavior. To be honest, it was not what he had expected from the man. He wore dark, stealth clothing much like himself, and people usual associated such a thing with brooding and the typical cold-shoudler to anyone who didn't warrant their attention. To see such carefree, innocent behavior, was very puzzling.
It reminded him of Tim, weirdly enough. Also Captain Marvel, but he at least tried to act mature when in costume. Emphasis on tried.
"This isn't a game, Nightwing." he said, trying out the new name. Strangely, it felt right to say that name. The man rolled his eyes (or at least that's what it looked like through the domino mask).
"Yeah, no kidding. Of all people, I should know that." Nightwing spat back, his childish demeanor vanishing for a second, being replaced by a serious expression. But just as soon as it appeared, it vanished, and his seemingly never ending smile came back. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun on the job, right?"
Batman's eyes narrowed and he slowly stalked over to Nightwing. The man did not flinch as he approached like most, but instead held his carefree pose. He visibly tensed, but other than that, he seemed indifferent to the Dark Knights approach.
"There is no we. You need to stop before you get yourself or others hurt, or maybe worse. Go be with your family, and live the rest of your life in peace." Batman ground out, pointing an accusing finger at Nightwing.
The man's look simply hardened, and he jabbed his own finger into the crusader's chest.
"Listen here, Batman. I am not going to stop, and you can't stop me. And did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, you're not the only poor sap out there who doesn't have a real family? Sure, we may have people that are close to us, but we can never commit to calling them family in order to put them in less danger than they are already in." he paused, looking at the Bats now stricken face before continuing. "And I know the only reason you came out here was to access me, to see if I would be a threat to the community, League, or that replacement. But I can assure you, if I wanted to do any of those things, you would have been trying to stop me a long time ago."
By the end of the rant, Nightwing had fallen in to a deadly whisper, leaning in close to the Dark Knight.
Batman was completely awestruck by the man's confidence to speak to him like he did. It seemed as if he had no fear, and at the same time, he could tell the man was swimming in sadness and grief. Even if he didn't give a very heavy indication, Batman could tell this man has been through many things that no normal man should.
Then, his words finally reached the analytical part of his brain, and his mind was reeling with confusion. He mentioned something about not wanting to harm a replacement. What did he mean by that?
More importantly, Nightwing seemed to know that he had a pretty messed up history when it came to family, that much was obvious. That would mean he knew more than most of the League did about his past, even before he became Batman. His breath hitched as he finally realized the possible severity of the situation.
"You know who I am." he said breathlessly, his eyes widening in both shock and slight fear. Not for himself, of course, but for the people who he left back at his home.
Nightwing gave him a satisfied smirk and stepped back a step, making more distance between himself and the Dark Knight.
"You bet, Brucie. But don't worry, as I said before, I won't hurt you or the replacement."
"What are you talking about? Who's the 'replacement'?" Batman blurted out, confusion overriding his fear and worry. Nightwing gave a slight laugh.
"I thought you were supposed to be the World's Greatest Detective? I'm talking about Bird boy 3.0." it was stated as though it were an obvious answer, which made Batman narrow his eyes in warning.
Even if he may be a bit confused, and not at his peak at the moment, did not mean this man could talk to him in such a way.
"Why are you referring to Robin as a replace-" he cut himself off short, finally taking a close up on his facial structure and features, realizing exactly where he had seen this man before.
Or, rather, where he had seen this child, this teenager before.
A whole new Tsunami of emotions crashed over him, making him physically stumble back from the man with wide, unbelieving eyes. His mouth was wide with shock, and his whole body became numb. The emotions in his mind all fumbled together, and the man couldn't distinguish one from the other. Angry mixed with happiness, while simultaneously disbelief collided with sadness.
Nightwing simply gave him a raised eyebrow, while his seemingly ever-present smirk diluted for a fraction of a second. He was a little bewildered, and-even though he wouldn't outwardly admit it-concerned by the complete 180 turn in emotions.
Finally, as a moment of silence fell upon them, he realized with slight shock why the Bat was simply staring at him with his jaw on the floor.
A small smile now graced his features. Instead of the smugness and pleasure it had once been filled with, there was a slight warmth to it. It seemed as though it radiated a light, one that the man in front of him longed to see again for what seemed like eternity.
"I see your detective mind finally pieced it all together." he said softly, watching as Batman's expression continued to flurry between a multitude of emotions.
But he continued to stand and stare, unable to believe his eyes. In all honesty, he thought somehow Scarecrow had injected him with Fear Toxin, and this seemingly peaceful and heart-wrenching moment would soon turn for the worst. Then, reality finally seemed to settle in his mind, and he took a hesitant step forward after making sure he wasn't hallucinating.
"R-Richard?" he whispered, barely audible to the young man standing before him.
"The one and only! Honestly, no one could replace me if they tried!" his eyes, filled with joy just a moment before, then turned somber, a slightly dark glint sparked within. "And believe me, I know people have..."
The last part of Nightwings sentence fell on deaf ears as Batman took another few steps closer. His shock was still clearly evident on his face, but it seemed as if the man was finally getting better control over his emotions.
The younger eyed him warily as he continued to get closer. He severely doubted that the Bat would make any harmful move towards him, but it never hurt to be prepared for anything to happen. It was that kind of mentality that kept him alive after that fateful night on the rooftop. He couldn't trust anyone, had nowhere he could call home for more than two days, and was constantly on the run from a infamous, beyond livid mercenary.
It was only when he killed the man himself that he could finally be at ease. And, of course, taking every and all precautions to make him stay gone. He lived in a pretty messed up universe after all. Plus, he had no doubt that Slade could be brought back to life, as he had just seen his brother, who had died half a year ago, on a contract from the League of Shadows.
Some people might question why exactly he hadn't stopped him from committing such a terrible act. Taking a life, after all, is one of the worst things a person can accomplish.
But, for the sake of his brothers most likely frail mental state, Nightwing simply moved on without a second glance.
Later on, he almost regretted that choice and felt partly guilty, knowing what kind of monster he was turning into. One who was by fueled by hate and revenge, like he once was before Bruce showed him another way. And Nightwing knew that without any guidance, he would soon be no better than the people he swore to protect all those years ago.
But he was selfish. He saw the one who was supposed to replace him and automatically hated him. Now, though, he wished he just stopped and talked to him. Nothing could change that now.
Finally Batman paused, just inches away from his previous thought deceased son, and slowly brought up his hand. Nightwing tensed, thinking he was going for his utility belt. But as the man's hand moved past the belt full of weapons and gadgets and continued upward, he became curious about his actions and relaxed his stance.
His hand was now at head level, and very slowly, he reached out towards Nightwings face. He raised an eyebrow, but made no move to push him away.
Then, the hand rested on the side of his face, cupping his cheek. It stayed like that for a few silent seconds, before it moved slightly upward. Nightwing felt a small tug on his skin near his temples, a jolt of alarm rushing through his body.
But once again, as the man pulled a bit harder, with more resolve, he said nothing and didn't move an inch.
This seemed to drive him forward, and with one final tug, the piece of fabric covering his eyes and shielding his identity fluttered to the ground. Normally he would have panicked, but he felt an odd sense of relief and warmth at the action.
They stayed like that, sparkling azure eyes looking on into the whites of the Bats cowl. Neither of them said a word, letting the silence swaddle them like a warm blanket. It was only them, the world around them seeming to fade out as they looked on in the features neither of them had seen in years.
Suddenly Batman was on the younger man, strong arms enveloping the buff frame in a fierce hug.
Nightwings eyes widened, and for a moment he had a fleeting thought of the man trying to attack him. But as those secure arms wrapped themselves even tighter around him, he hesitantly brought his own arms up to reciprocate the warm gesture.
In all of his years at the Manor, as both Robin and Richard John Grayson, had this man actually hugged him. Not when he was down, injured, or needed consoling after his parents death anniversary rolled around. It was just how the man operated. Sure, there were some pats of the shoulder, the occasional ruffling of hair, or even the miraculously rare one armed embrace, but never anything to this degree.
Which is why, as he could hear an almost inaudible sniffle behind his shoulder, a warm smile enveloped his features.
For the first time in a very long time, he felt genuinely happy. Almost like a blissful wave of peace had gently washed over him. It felt so, amazingly beautiful.
The younger's arms tightened the hold even further, burying his face into the pitch black cape of the elder. His throat welled up, and he fought with all of his strength to keep the dam from breaking.
But as another sniffle reached his ears, and the soft, hoarse voice spoke, his smile widened and the dam finally broke, all of Nightwings being rejoicing in the embrace of his long needed father.
"I love you too, Richard."
Yep! That's it! First time actually writing a happy ending, and while it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside (for once…) it kinda felt weird. I'm so used to bad endings with lots of tears and blood…I'm really messed up.
Hope everyone enjoyed this short story, and check out my other Robin centric story "To Lose a Bird". It's Young Justice, not Teen Titans, but if you like Robin you can check it out.
Thank to you all who read this, I love all of you!
~BluePinetree
PS- I kinda mixed Dick's personality with Jason's after he gets resurrected, so that's kinda why he resents the other Robins a bit, if ya'll were confused!
(Okay, that's really it, see you in one of my other books!)