When Robin arrived at the Watchtower with Batman, he supposed he should probably expect a couple of things: As always, he would find Martian Manhunter overseeing the monitor of planet Earth. He most definitely would see Flash scarfing down a meal of some kind while lounging at his usual spot around the conference table. The menu generally ranged from burgers from fast food restaurants to sushi prepared from Japan. Perhaps he would have to once again witness Green Arrow's flirting attempts with Black Canary, which, granted, do hold some merit.
What Robin and other leaguers witnessed, however, was something no one saw coming.
It happened on an ordinary afternoon of an ordinary day. Robin had just finished spending a nice day with his teammates—minus Wally, his missing comrade who unfortunately ended Summer Break early—at the beach, when Batman said he was hosting a meeting at the Watchtower and wanted Robin to tag along. Robin was fine with this—it's not the first time he's been invited to the Justice League's top secret base and it's nice to feel included in the hero work shrouded behind the infinite curtains of space. He expected the meeting to be boring and brief, just a quick follow-up with the areas of suspicious activity around several divided sectors of the world that each league member is in charge of protecting.
Batman stepped into the zeta tube and the familiar flash of golden light flooded the empty alley way of Gotham City. Robin stepped in not a second later.
Through the blinding light engulfing Robin's vision, the scenery of planet earth and the backdrop of deep space came into view. Unidentifiable shapes turned into faces and dancing spots became harsh fluorescent lights. The robotic voice resounded in the bustling entrance of the Watchtower. "Recognized: Batman 02."
Robin emerged from the iris of the zeta tube. "Robin B01."
Robin followed his mentor and father into the conference room and took a seat in a chair situated near the far corner of the room. The conference room was comfortable enough, with a round glass table, a hologram projecting the topic of the meeting in the center, and sleek office chairs surrounding the table. The fluorescent lights above weren't so harsh, and on the far side of the metal walls, an open window displayed an expansive view of earth and thousands of stars. Whenever Robin became bored, he would play a game he made up just for this occasion. He would attempt to locate each constellation known to man in the view of the window, and sometimes he could locate hundreds, other times just one or two. The game was largely entertaining for a 9 year old vigilante and is still entertaining for a 13 year old protege.
After the main league members filed into the room, Batman began the meeting. "As you may have heard, we have gathered intel that there is a mole in the Team," a wave of murmurs washed over the crowd. "As a way to exploit this mole, the league has been looking into the profiles and history of each member. We have reason to believe this mole is working for the Light."
After a while, Robin zoned out and began to play his star game. Occasionally words like "Speedy" and "secrets" would capture his attention and he would glance curiously at the senior members. From what Robin gathered, the League suspected Artemis or Superboy to be the mole. Some of the other league members thought otherwise and leaned more towards Miss Martian or even Speedy. Honestly, Robin didn't want to suspect anyone of his teammates, even if they do have shady backgrounds. But as the partner of Batman, it's Robin's job to be suspicious and dig into the uncomfortable truths, even if it does burn bridges more so than mend them. Robin suppressed a sigh. Why did Batman want him in this meeting again?
That's when things got interesting.
Out the corner of his eye, Robin noticed a strange collection of shadows forming near the middle of the room. Not long after, the League members began to notice it too. Superman frowned. "What is that—"
Suddenly a mass appeared in the inky blackness. The room gradually darkened and the mass began to shape itself into a humanoid figure. The shadows seemed to move to their own accord as they danced and licked the floor and walls. The room lights blinked back on and the shadows retreated to their respective places as if nothing happened. There, where the shade collected, a boy decked out in all black who looked no older than 12 or 13 stood in its place. Robin immediately knew something was wrong with him when he began to flicker like the faulty street lamps in Gotham City. He seemed to literally be fading like a ghost before Robin's eyes. Robin wasn't sure if the boy would flicker out of existence.
The mysterious boy regarded everyone in the room with what looked like confusion written all over his face, though it was hard to tell with the dark curls obscuring his features. Through the flickering phases, Robin could make out the boy's complexion: A translucent, ghostly pale white, the color of a skull. He looked as thin as a skeleton and his dreary clothes seemed to hang off of his small frame.
"Where am I?" The boy muttered right before his eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he collapsed. Superman made a move to catch him before he could hit the hard metal floor, but to the shock of everyone in the room, the boy merely passed through Superman's arms and hit the ground with a soft thud.
Black Canary quickly ran up to the boy to checked his pulse. She recoiled her hand in surprise. "He's ice cold!"
Batman frowned. "Take him to the hospital wing and find a way to heal him. When he has recovered, we'll question him for answers," he said.
Superman made another attempt to pick him up, but to no avail. He simply slipped through the Kryptonian's fingertips once again. "Let me try," Black Canary said. She placed her hand on the boy's shoulder. At first, her hand passed through the incorporeal boy, but that quickly changed as she kept her hand fixed firmly on his aviator jacket. The mysterious boy flickered again and this time Black Canary's hand didn't pass through skin. "J'onn, do you think you can levitate him to the hospital wing?"
Martian Manhunter nodded. "I believe I can," he replied a little hesitantly. The Martian's eyes glowed green as he raised his hand. Following the movement, the boy floated off the floor. A silver skull ring with ruby eyes on the ghost boy's left hand caught Robin's attention.
Next thing Robin knew, Ghost Boy was carried out of the door away from prying eyes of the Justice League.
……
It took three days for Ghost Boy to awaken from his coma.
Or at least, that's what Bruce told him back at the Bat Cave. "The boy still won't talk," he told Dick. "He refuses to comply to interrogation."
Dick frowned and took a sip of his hot chocolate. "How long have you interrogated him?" He inquired.
"Five hours," Bruce admitted tiredly as he ran a hand through his hair. "So far we haven't got as much as a name from him."
Dick did a double take and was about to spit out his hot cocoa right then and there. Five hours? Most people crack under pressure within five minutes when being interrogated by Batman. "How in the world did he manage something like that?"
Bruce sighed. "The boy's stubborn. I've never interrogated someone quite like him before."
"Master Bruce?" Alfred asked. "Would you like another cup of coffee?"
Bruce held out his empty mug. "Please."
Alfred poured steaming coffee into his mug. "Well, Master Bruce, if you and Mr. Kent can't get through to him, it might be because you have nothing to relate to. An effective tactic in interrogation is finding common ground with your subject. Once you do that, persuasion gets a bit easier," Alfred wisely advised.
"So," Dick started. "You're saying something like interrogational therapy?"
"Precisely," Alfred answered.
Bruce scowled. "We are interrogating him to get answers. Not to make friends."
"You said you have been interrogating the boy for five hours?" Alfred shrugged. "Perhaps he could use a friend."
"Well, where are we going to find him a friend? The Team?" Dick asked. Dick doubted any of his teammates would want to make friends with an intruder, even if the intruder is just a small scrawny boy around their age.
Bruce looked to be in deep thought. His calculating blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and his frown looked more contemplative than agitated. Whenever a breakthrough or idea comes to mind, it always starts with this facial expression. Dick has come to know it as the Bat Face.
Bruce's eyes shifted to Dick. "You."
Dick's eyes widened. "Me?"
Bruce smiled. "I've been wanting to show you the ropes in interrogation for a long time. This proves to be the perfect opportunity for practice in that field of expertise. Besides," he said. "You're around the boy's age. You might be able to get through to him."
"But how can I get through to him? We've already tried the interrogation method," Dick said.
"We've tried my interrogation method. Your method might be more effective," the billionaire answered.
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it could work."
"But I don't know my method! I never interrogated someone before!"
"Well, find one," Bruce said simply.
Dick couldn't hold back the sigh escaping his mouth. "Fine!" He exclaimed exasperatedly. "I guess I'll just 'find' a method!"
……
Robin took a deep breath to steal his nerves. Relax, he thought to himself, it's just like doing detective work but more upfront. Just stayed whelmed and don't let Ghost Boy get under your skin.
Robin schooled his features as he walked through the automatic door and into the interrogation room. The sight he saw was nothing special. The room was pretty boring—which Robin guessed was intentional—with its plain metal walls, metal floors, metal table, metal chairs, and of course the active camera in the top corner of the wall. Ghost Boy regarded Robin with a strange expression as he had his hands folded on the table. It was a mixture of curiosity, exhaustion, caution, and a bit of boredom.
He watched carefully as Robin made his way to the table and sat in the chair. Robin studied Ghost Boy for a moment. In the fluorescent fixture, Robin could clearly see the deep purple bags under the boy's eyes. Through a shroud of raven curls, sharp obsidian eyes that were deeper than a bottomless pit stared back at him. Robin had the feeling that the mysterious boy was staring right through him and into his soul. Ghost Boy looked much too thin and pale to be healthy, if the occasional flicker was anything to go by.
"My name is Robin," he introduced himself. "I'm here to have a little chat with you."
Robin waited for Ghost Boy to introduce himself too, but silence merely filled the room.
"Who are you?"
Silence was his only answer.
"How did you get in the Justice League's base?"
More silence.
"Can you at least tell me your name? Or am I just going to keep referring to you as Ghost Boy?"
Finally Robin became fed up with the silent treatment. "Look, I'm here to help you—"
"No, you're not," the boy deadpanned. "You're here because the Big Blue Boy Scout and his friend Mr. Black Bat can't interrogate me. You're here to figure out why a scrawny boy like me managed to break into the Justice League's most highly secure base, which is in space. You're here because the muppets on the other side of that," he tilted his head in the direction of the camera. "believed you would have the best shot at cracking me open for information, which I'm going to save you the trouble now and tell you that won't work."
Robin blinked. That was not the response he was expecting, but he'll take what he can get. Robin decided to try another approach. "So you do talk. Tell me, why haven't you answered Batman and Superman's questions? This could all get easier if you just cooperate."
"Nothing's ever that easy," Ghost Boy said. "I admire Mr. Black Bat and the Big Blue Boy Scout's persistence. But I value my privacy more."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "And the reason for you breaking into the Justice League's base is part of your privacy?"
Ghost Boy shrugged. "It can be. If you want to know if the break in was intentional, I can assure you it wasn't."
Robin frowned. "So you're saying you somehow teleported unintentionally into the most highly secure base in the world? Correct me if I'm wrong, but… that doesn't sound right."
"To someone like you it wouldn't," Ghost Boy said.
"What do you mean 'someone like you?'" Robin asked, feeling more confused now than when he came in.
Ghost Boy yawned. "Right, I'm going to take a nap now. It was nice talking to you, Bird Brain. I'll leave you to ponder our little conversation."
"Wait, we're not done talking yet, Ghost Boy," Robin stated.
"Oh, I think we are," Ghost Boy insisted. In one swift motion, he slipped off his aviator jacket that looked like it had seen better days, and used it as a pillow to lay his head on.
"Hey, you can't just—"
Ghost Boy was fast asleep before his head even hit the pillow, snoring softly and snuggling into the jacket. Robin sighed. "This is so not whelming."
Robin was about to leave, but something caught his eye. Strewn all over Ghost Boy's exposed arms were scars—thousands of them—in all different shapes and sizes. Some looked to be blade marks, others burn marks, and even teeth marks. Robin frowned. Who could've done this? He gazed at the sleeping boy's face. Ghost Boy looked so peaceful. There was something about Ghost Boy that was strangely intriguing. Robin felt an inordinate desire to unravel the mysterious boy. Not just for answers, but to find out what kind of life this boy lives, and why he's so bent on keeping his secrets. And most of all, to find out the best way to help him.
With one last glance behind him at the sleeping boy, Robin made his way out the door, ready to brainstorm a new strategy that Ghost Boy will respond to.
……
"You did well," Batman said back at the Bat Cave. They had just finished a night of patrol and were about to go catch some sleep. He pulled back his cowl, revealing Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy of Gotham City.
Dick pursed his lips. Why can't he figure out Ghost Boy that easily? Why can't he simply pull off that emotionless mask the boy wears and reveal all of his secrets? Robin almost laughed at the thought. In Ghost Boy's words, nothing's ever that easy.
Dick frowned in frustration. "I didn't really figured anything out. He barely talked to me. I don't even know his name."
"But you established a relationship with him," Bruce pointed out. "If you keep working, you'll establish common ground."
"I would hardly call what we have a 'relationship,'" Dick said. "It's more like a cat and dog chasing each other around a tree pointlessly until one of them tires and the other gives up. We aren't getting anywhere."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Master Dick," Alfred chimed in. "Have you been listening closely? The boy may have revealed more than he thought."
Dick thought back to the odd conversation he had with Ghost Boy. It was with a start that Dick realized he had more questions than answers after leaving the interrogation room. Still, he racked his brain for the details he picked up earlier.
"He came to the Watchtower on accident, he said so himself. He didn't imply nor say how he exactly teleported. Ghost Boy could very well have powers, or could have been sent here," Dick deduced. "He values privacy above all else and is definitely hiding something big. He knows how to connect the dots with the minimalist information possible. He knows how the game works, but at the same time changes it completely to his advantage! I noticed scars all over his arms, which may suggest an abusive household or even a violent upbringing. He seems to have a natural affinity for hiding his emotions and I'm willing to bet he's had practice," Dick frowned. "Now that I think about it, he has this whole demeanor that I just can't crack. And what's up with the shadows and the dark clothes?"
Bruce put on his Bat Face. "Whoever this boy is, he is not to be trusted. Find out more about him by any means necessary. The more we know the better."
By any means necessary, huh?
……
Dick adjusted his sunglasses and smoothed down his unruly hair as he walked through the automatic doors of the Staples store. He kept to himself in his black hoodie and skinny jeans, trying to avoid any and all news reporters and prying eyes. As a means of extra precaution, Dick politely asked Alfred if he could drive him over to the Star City Staples instead of the Gotham City one. Dick wanted to try an experiment and needed a certain object that, according to the bat computer, could only be found in Staples stores.
He searched each aisle carefully, his keen eyes looking for the item of interest. After about 20 minutes of searching, Dick deduced it must be in the checkout aisle. He waited patiently in line for a minute or two, keeping his eyes peeled for the experimentational object. Finally, he spotted it just a few feet from the cashier.
He snatched the item off the shelf and went to pay for it.
"Hello," the cashier, a young woman with a few grey hairs greeted. "What can I do for—"
She abruptly stop talking when she recognized Dick. The Boy Wonder couldn't suppress a sigh. He still gets recognized even two cities over. "You're—You're him."
Dick laughed nervously. "You know, I would really appreciate it if you don't say anything. I just want to buy this," he placed the item on the counter. "and I'll be on my way."
The cashier Emily, according to her name tag, nodded numbly. She glanced at the counter and frowned. "Will that be all?"
Dick nodded in confirmation. Emily clicked a few buttons on the cash register after scanning the merchandise. "That will be 5.99."
Dick swiped his credit card, grabbed his bag, and flashed a winning smile. "Have a nice day," he said cheekily.
"You too," the cashier said in a daze.
Her wandering eyes on him proved to be marvelous motivation. Dick hurried his pace and left the store. He got into the car and told Alfred to step on it.
……
The next day, Robin walked through the automatic door and into the interrogation room with new-found determination. The bag in his hand swung around leisurely at the hop of his step.
Ghost Boy noticed the new attitude. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"I'm trying a new tactic today," Robin answered the silent question.
"What's in the bag?" Ghost Boy asked.
"The experiment," the Boy Wonder replied cryptically as he took a seat. Robin placed the bag on the table. Ghost Boy tensed a little as he watched the bag carefully. Robin couldn't help but smirk at his ingenuity. Everything is going according to plan.
Robin unveiled the item of interest: A big red "No" button.
Ghost Boy stared at it for a moment. He gestured at the button. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
Robin grinned brightly. "It's a big red 'No' button that you can click!"
Ghost Boy scowled. "I can see that, you dodo! What I'm asking is why is it here?"
Robin's cheery demeanor switched to professional. "I recalled yesterday when you told me you value your privacy. So, I thought whenever my questioning gets too close to your privacy, you can press the red button and I'll stop asking it."
Ghost Boy stared at Robin, then the button, the camera, and finally Robin. "Are you serious right now?"
Robin sighed. Batman warned him this tactic might not work. Regardless, Robin wanted to give it a try. "Yes, I'm serious, Ghost Boy. Get traught, dude. This is an ingenious idea. I'll start. You said yesterday you unintentionally broke into a highly secure Justice League base? Well, what I want to know is how."
Robin's answer was a "N-O!" from the red buzzer. Ghost Boy crossed his arms defiantly and leaned back in his chair.
"Okay… What's your name?"
A high pitched "NOOOO!" sounded at the press of the red button.
Robin sighed in defeat. "Will you at least tell me your first name?"
"NO NO NO!" Filled the room after Ghost Boy slapped the button.
"Oh, come on! Is there anything that doesn't involve your privacy?"
"For the last time, NO!" the button cried.
Ghost Boy smirked triumphantly at Robin's annoyed expression. Robin took a deep breath to control his rising temper. He placed the "No" button back in the bag. Obviously a new method is required. Robin sighed again. "I'll be back tomorrow," he said finally.
"Looking forward to it, Bird Brain," He heard Ghost Boy say right before he heard a soft thud, signaling the start of his napping session.
Well, Robin thought as he left the room, time for a new plan.
……
"I just don't get it!" Dick confessed to Wally later that day. "How am I supposed to get through to Ghost Boy? No matter how hard I try, he simply doesn't cooperate. It's like he doesn't even want my help!"
"Well, have you considered that's probably the case?" Wally pointed out. "Look, Rob. I don't understand why you want to help this guy so much. It sounds like he's a loner that just wants to do his own thing. Just give him space, I'm sure he'll come around."
"But I have given him space, Wally! I've tried talking to him politely, I've tried treating him as an equal, I even bought a giant red 'No' button from Staples! Nothing has worked so far!"
"Yeah, I'm sorry, dude. But what were you trying to achieve with that button? You should know this by now, Dick. Nothing good comes from that button. The plan was bound to fail, I could've told you that."
Dick sighed. "There's more to him than it seems, KF. I don't know why, but I just have to know what's going on in that brain of his," he said. "I don't think this kid was lying when he said he unintentionally broke into the Watchtower. I don't know how he managed it, but he didn't do it on purpose."
"Maybe he accidentally teleported to the Watchtower, I don't know," Wally commented offhandedly. "Have you tried taking him out to lunch?" The speedster suggested. "Maybe he would like that."
"No. I don't think that would work," Dick replied. "I wish there was just some way to show him that I'm on his side. That he can trust me."
"Well, did you say he can trust you?"
"No, he wouldn't listen to me."
"Did you try asking questions that might show some concern or just questions for typical interrogations?"
Dick's eyes widened as the lightbulb went off in his brain. "KF, you're a genius!"
"That is how I became Kid Flash," Wally said proudly. "Any time, Rob. Any time"
……
The next day, Robin came in for another round of interrogation. He took a deep breath and stepped through the automatic doors with an air of authority to him, so unlike the cheery giddiness from yesterday.
Ghost Boy straightened in his seat and stared at Robin with the usual emotionless mask and impenetrable dark eyes. "Hey, Bird Brain," he greeted casually.
This time, Robin didn't return the greeting as he took a seat. He stared at Ghost Boy for a long moment, perhaps to set the profound mood. Robin noticed that the bags under his eyes took on a lighter hue of purple. Ghost Boy's once tired eyes sparkled with secrets. It was, for the first time ever, that Robin saw just how old the boy's eyes really looked. Through the deep shades of midnight, Robin could see the layers of intellect, loneliness, and far too much sadness painting the story of a boy who grew up too fast.
The Boy Wonder could relate.
Finally Robin said, "You've experienced a great loss, haven't you?"
Ghost Boy looked taken aback by the unorthodox question. "What makes you say that?"
"You know, they say that body language tends to speak more than words. But in your case, I would say it's more the look in your eyes," Robin said.
"You know nothing about me."
"I know everything about you."
"And why is that?"
"Because that look in your eyes… is something I have too."
Ghost Boy's eyes widened. Robin wasn't finished. "That loss, that darkness, that misery? It's the kind of look that always stays with you, even after all this time. It's almost as haunting as that fateful day, but the difference is that it's a constant reminder that things will never be the same again," Robin took a shaky breath. "My parents were murdered right in front of me when I was very young. Since then I have never been the same. There's always been this darkness. As the years have gone by, I've been able to push it to the back of mind, but that doesn't change the fact that it's always been there. I had some pretty incredible people help me through it."
"Why are you telling me this?" Ghost Boy asked quietly.
"Because I think you and I are more similar than we appear," Robin said. "I think you've experienced a great loss too. I think you used to be happy before it happened. I think you've been trying so hard to get through it by yourself because you have no one to help you. I think you've learned to push everyone away because you're afraid of getting hurt again. I think that darkness has become you as a result of it. I think…" Robin's voice cracked. "I think you've been solving everyone else's problems because you think you aren't worth it. I think you're trying so hard to cope with it, but you just can't. I think at the end of the day, you hope someone will save you, and you're let down every time."
Ghost Boy stared at him in shock for a solid minute. Honestly, Robin wasn't really sure where the speech came from, but he knew one thing: He meant every word. Robin stared back at the boy and didn't falter, even when fury burned from the boy's eyes and into his skull.
Finally Ghost Boy gave into the bitter truth. "You're right," he admitted quietly. "It… It doesn't get easier as the years go by."
"But it can get better. You just have to believe that there are people who want to help you. And honestly? I have no doubt they do."
Ghost boy looked up to him, and for the first time ever, Robin saw a spark of hope in the boy's eyes. "Do you really mean that?"
"I do."
"Are you going to break my trust just like they did?"
"No."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Ghost boy stared at him for a few seconds. He looked to be having an internal war with himself. Finally he said, "Nico."
Robin frowned in confusion. "What?"
"That's my name," Ghost Boy said. "My name is Nico."
Robin gave a small smile. "Nice to meet you, Nico," Robin decided to push his luck. "Do you have a last name?"
"Do you have a secret identity?"
"... Touché."
Ghost Boy took a deep breath. "Look. I have secrets—everyone does. But these secrets? They involve something greater than myself. If I say anything, a lot of people are going to get hurt. Including you," Nico said gravely. "Our worlds, for the sake of everyone, must stay separated."
"What do you mean 'our worlds?'" Robin inquired. "We live on the same earth."
Nico smirked knowingly. "We do," was all he said.
"Are you willing to answer any of my questions?" Robin asked desperately. "Or at least the ones that don't involve your other world?"
Nico paused for a moment. "I guess we can give it a try."
Robin smiled. "Let's start with something simple: What's your favorite color?"
"Olive green," Ghost Boy answered immediately.
Robin frowned. "Really?" He gestured at the boy's clothes. "Not black?"
Nico shrugged. "Black isn't sentimental. Olive green is a color that holds a lot of value to me."
"I'm guessing you don't want to elaborate?"
Nico looked away. "I don't really feel like talking about it."
"Well, my favorite color is blue," Robin admitted.
Ghost Boy raised an eyebrow. "Robin egg blue?"
Robin laughed. "Good one."
"But seriously," Nico said. "I think you could definitely pull off blue if you're ever considering another costume down the road. Perhaps blue and black?"
Robin tried to envision himself adorned in a blue and black suit while fighting crime on the streets of Gotham. He smiled. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. "What's your favorite book?"
Ghost Boy's expression turned sour. "Pass."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "You hate reading?"
"No," Nico answered. "I think I would enjoy it very much if I didn't have dyslexia."
Robin grimaced. "That really sucks, Ghost Boy. I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't be. It's a pretty common occurrence for the people of my world," Nico admitted. He shrugged. "Besides, it's a blessing and a curse."
Robin frowned in confusion. "How is it a blessing?" Nico waved him off. A thought occurred to Robin. "You said dyslexia is a pretty common occurrence for the people of your world. Are powers a common thing too?"
"Yeah," he answered thickly. "They are."
"Nico, we can help you control your powers," Robin said. "We have a team of people like you—teenagers—who all have powers they're trying to work out too. As a member of that team I can definitely tell you it's worth it. The people on that team? They won't judge you."
Nico smiled sadly. "It's tempting, but I… I can't."
"Why not?" Robin asked gently.
Nico's expression darkened. Out the corner of his eye, Robin noticed a stir in the shadows, and he could've sworn the room became 10 degrees colder. "In my world there are… creatures that hunt us because of our parents. They follow our scents and kill us. They don't have souls, so even when we kill them, they just come back. As my father's son, I have a particularly strong scent. Me just being here has already begun to put you in danger. I can't risk putting anyone else in danger too."
Robin frowned. "If you're in danger we can—"
"It doesn't work that way," Ghost Boy interrupted. "Most people who aren't from our world can't see them. And even if you do, you don't have any of the specific metals required to kill the creatures. Besides, they leave people who aren't from our world alone."
"So, you're saying they're all around us, but we can't see them?" Robin asked.
Nico nodded. "It's best for everyone if you and the Justice League stay out of this. Trust me. It won't end well."
"Is there at least a safe haven for you and the people of your world? Some place where you can live without having to worry about being killed?" Robin inquired.
"There is a camp where we are taken to in order to train. There we can learn how to fight the creatures and how to use our powers. Usually you can meet your half siblings too. If you're unlucky enough, you get called upon to complete a task for… the people higher up," Ghost Boy said.
"And who are 'the people higher up?'" Robin asked.
Ghost Boy frowned. "A bunch of self-centered jerks that care about no one but themselves, not even their own kids. That is, unless their kids bring glory to their name or do something for them."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "You don't like them very much?"
"Their leader murdered my mother and a bunch of innocent people in attempts to kill my sister and I a long time ago. My sister was later killed in a quest to save another one, and she might as well have indirectly killed her," Nico admitted shakily. "'Don't like them very much' is an understatement."
"Did you arrest them?" Robin asked, horrified at the injustice he just heard.
A cold laugh sounded from Nico's lips. "'Arrest them?'" He shook his head just like someone would if they told a funny joke. But this joke was far from funny. "One cannot simply arrest them. They are eternal beings. They practically invented the idea of a police force. Open your eyes, Robin. Their influence is everywhere, even in the most unsuspecting of places. To lock away an influence even older than America and perhaps civilization? That just doesn't happen," Nico sighed. "As much as I hate them, there are far worse tyrannies out there. I would know, it took us an unforgivable war just a couple of months ago to defeat that tyranny. That's not even counting the quests building up to that war. I have an inkling feeling the war was just a warm up for an even greater force biding its time," Nico looked up. "Over the years I learned a valuable lesson: Be the change the world needs to see. Don't wait for a hero. If you want something done, get it done yourself."
"You sound as if you're speaking from experience."
"That's because I am."
Robin nodded in understanding. "Thank you for telling me this, Nico. Everything will get better, I promise. It might take some time, but it will get better. Just remember what I told you. I'll try to help you anyway I can."
Nico smiled sadly. "You already helped me," he grabbed Robin's hand and discreetly slipped something cold and round into the palm of his glove. Robin frowned in confusion. "Thank you for the advice. I won't forget it and I won't forget you, Robin."
Robin smiled back. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ghost Boy."
"Goodbye, Bird Brain," Nico replied quietly.
Robin made his way out the door, slipping the large round object into a hidden pocket in his glove to examine later. He stopped short when a weird, foreboding feeling washed over him. Robin turned back to the boy in black—the first person to ever intrude the Watchtower. Ghost Boy's head was cocked sideways and downward in an almost guilty manner. His midnight curls cascaded down his pale face, casting a mysterious shadow over his features.
Robin frowned in concern. Nico looked upset. The Boy Wonder then shrugged. That's just a common expression for the boy. There's nothing to worry about, right? Right. Besides, he'll probably see his secretive friend tomorrow. Perhaps then he can learn more about this new mystifying world.
Robin walked out of the room feeling better than when he entered.
……
"He's escaped," Bruce growled menacingly as he slammed his fist on the table of the bat computer.
Dick sighed. He was disappointed in himself more than anything. Dick really believed he got through to the boy. Or at least, gained enough of Nico's trust to have more than a one-sided conversation with him.
Dick replayed the footage for the third time, breaking down each segment in order to figure out exactly how Ghost Boy left so quietly. In the footage, the time was 4:23, almost five minutes after Dick left the interrogation room. Nico got up from his chair and stood at the far corner of the wall. With the snap of his fingers, the room darkened considerably in mere seconds, shrouding the view of the security camera for the perfect escape. When the lights returned, Ghost Boy was nowhere to be seen. He simply vanished in thin air. Dick frowned and rewound the footage. He paused right at the point when the room darkened.
There, at the far corner where Nico was positioned, an inky black mass looked suspiciously darker than the blacked out room. It was with a start that Dick realized his mistake: He assumed Nico was teleported to the Watchtower by someone else's powers, not his own.
Dick cursed himself for his naivety. How could he be so stupid as to think Nico didn't use his powers in the first place? How could he be so ignorant as to not review the facts? He was so worried about helping this boy that he simply couldn't see the bigger picture painted right in front of him: Ghost Boy could've left at any given time, and there wouldn't have been a single thing that could be done about it.
So the real question is: Why did he stay at all?
……
Later that night, Dick couldn't sleep.
Perhaps it was because of the contingency scenarios filling his brain, or maybe it was the thoughts of Ghost Boy clouding his mind. Either way, he was restless.
Dick sighed. He was so close. So close to truly helping Nico. So close to unraveling that emotionless mask. Then again, was he? Dick spent the first five minutes of the interrogation talking about his problems, and the remaining time was spent asking questions that got nowhere. On the other hand, maybe he was close. Even if Ghost Boy's answers were incredibly vague, at least he learned something. Dick considered Nico's change in behavior and attitude an achievement.
Dick may not have solved all of the boy's problems, but he liked to think he opened the boy's eyes to the possibilities. The possibility that there is kindness in the world. That there is more than the bitter truth.
He hoped he left his mark on the boy for the hard years to come.
Dick reached over to his bedside table for the mysterious object Nico gave him as a last goodbye. He studied the object. It was a heavy gold coin with strange inscriptions on it, probably in Greek. On one side, a picture of what looked to be the Empire State Building was stamped in, and on the other side, an intricate owl with Greek lettering was imprinted.
Dick frowned. Why did Nico give him this? And more importantly, how did he obtain such an antique coin?
Then, just as suddenly as the questions came, the puzzle started to piece together one by one.
They are eternal beings. They practically invented the idea of a police force.
To lock away an influence even older than America and perhaps civilization? That just doesn't happen.
Most people who aren't from our world can't see them. And even if you do, you don't have any of the specific metals required to kill the creatures.
There is a camp where we are taken to in order to train. There we can learn how to fight the creatures and how to use our powers. Usually you can meet your half siblings too. If you're unlucky enough, you get called upon to complete a task for… the people higher up.
Dick glanced at the coin once again. Drachma, the name of the coin suddenly came to him.
The inscriptions in Greek… The owl imprinted…
Nico's right. He really does possess a secret greater than himself.
As my father's son, I have a particularly strong scent. Me just being here has already begun to put you in danger.
Then it clicked.
Dick gasped. "Demigod," he breathed ever so silently. "Nico's a demigod."
Alfred's right. Nico did reveal more than he thought.
It all made sense now. Nico was dropping hints as quickly as he was breathing air. As inscrutable as the clues are, the proof is undeniably still there, assuming Nico was being truthful.
Nico implied that there are beings older than civilization who influenced culture everywhere, to the point where separation of such things are impossible. The Gods.
He hinted that there are others like him with all sorts of different powers and that they are taken to a special place to train. A camp for heroes.
He insinuated these heroes just fought a war of a tyranny far worse than any god out there. Someone attempted to overthrow the Gods, and Nico thinks another is stepping up to the task.
He informed Dick on how the creatures—monsters—hunt the children because of their scent, and Dick is willing to bet that scent comes from being a child of a designated god. Nico must be the son of a particularly powerful god if his scent is so potent.
He also said that the monsters are never seen, which could suggest a veil of magic of some kind shielding the world from such beings. When Nico mentioned being unlucky enough to be sent on a task for the Gods, he must have meant quests—journeys that must be completed in order to save the world.
All of the clues tied together when Dick noticed the coin was inscribed in Greek—Ancient Greek—and had an imprint of an owl, which is a well known symbol of Athena.
As unbelievable as it sounds, all of the clues point towards a couple of facts: Greek Gods exist and Nico is the son of one of them.
Dick is willing to bet the Gods live somewhere in the Empire State Building, or at least that's where their source of power must be. The question is: Why did Nico entrust him with this knowledge? He obviously did it on purpose as he dropped hints left and right, but why Dick of all people?
Are you going to break my trust just like they did?
No.
Promise?
I promise.
Dick frowned. Perhaps he would never find out why and that's okay. He was curious, but he wouldn't allow such curiosity to get the better of him. Dick glanced at the drachma for what felt like the hundredth time. His thoughts drifted to Ghost Boy. For six days Dick had wondered what made the boy so special. He wondered what was hiding beneath those impenetrable eyes. Dick, to some extent, solved that mystery. But he found more than he was looking for. A whole other world, in fact. One that was entirely different yet one of the same with his world.
It was at that moment Dick realized some mysteries are best left unsolved.
Which is probably why Dick stuffed the coin into his special box of photos of his parents, a place he knew Bruce would never look. If he's lucky, the drachma will never see the light of day again, or at least will never be seen by curious eyes.
Dick gently slid the box back under his bed with a sense of finality. He liked to think that small action just saved hundreds of demigods, for their existence—at least for now—isn't documented into the bat computer files. With this sense of finality came the exhaustion.
Before Dick closed his eyes, a part of him wished to see Ghost Boy again. But the rational side of him knew it was simply not meant to be. He played his small part in their world and he was proud of it. And now… it's time he returned to his true role: Robin, the Boy Wonder and partner of Batman.
……
Little did Dick Grayson know, somewhere in the distance, Nico di Angelo was thinking the same thing.