TITLE: FALLEN HEROES

AUTHOR: Natasha Bennett nbennett@islandnet.com

RATING: Pg-13

DISCLAIMER: Everything here belongs to DC comics, Warner Brother Productions, and anyone else who has right to the show or the comics. This is purely for non-profit.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a very heavy sequel to after ‘Broken Harmony’.

(2 years ago)

Barbara Gordon walked through the streets numbly, her hands clenched in pain, and her face flooded with tears. She had walked aimlessly in Gotham City for several days now, or weeks. Whichever. It didn’t matter. Nothing much did anymore. She closed her eyes and leaned against a trash can. That was her. No better then the trash. And the only person who believed otherwise was gone. “Dick,” she sobbed. He was dead because of her.

A shadow behind her. “Barbara,” a voice said scornfully. Batman.

Barbara’s head jerked up with a gasp. She tried to flee but fell instead. She crawled backwards on her hands and feet. “Bat-you shot-you shot-” she closed her eyes, tears falling down her eyes. “Please,” she managed to whisper.

But Batman’s voice was merciless. “Get up.”

Barbara opened her eyes. Sniffing, she tried to stand but couldn’t. Part of her was still on drugs. Batman finally yanked her sharply to her feet.

She looked up tearfully. “Kill me,” she said.

Batman said nothing, did nothing.

She began to stutter. “It’s what you wanted to do all along, isn’t it? And then h-he tried to stop you and you..just....just shot him like a dog. H-He cared so much about you and you just k-k-killed him-”

“He’s alive,” Batman interrupted.

Barbara’s words tumbled out of her lips and were lost. “He’s....what?”

“Alive,” Batman confirmed. “But you’ll never see him again.”

The words were spoken so flatly that Barbara couldn’t help but shiver. Then she regained her composure a little. “Still trying to be a father, Batman? A little late in the game for that, considering that you were the bastard that shot him-”

“Enough,” Batman commanded.

Barbara stopped talking, and hated herself for doing so. “What do you want from me?” she finally spat at him.

“The copy of the bat-computer,” Batman replied. “You have it. I want it.”

Barbara shook her head in disgust. “Men always want something, don’t they? Even men made out of stone.”

Batman said nothing, waiting patiently.

Barbara looked down, fear in her green eyes. She finally took it out of her pocket, held it daintily in the air, and threw it at Batman. “I’m doing that only for Dick. Nothing else,” she snapped.

Batman caught it easily in his black glove. “Is this the only copy?” he asked.

“You have what you wanted!” Barbara shouted at him. “What more do you want? Go away, and leave me the hell alone!” She glared at him. “I told Dick that even I believed in heroes. Looking at you makes me sick. You’re not a hero, you’re a fraud!” She looked away, trying to keep the tears from flooding down her cheeks. “Leave me to my own darkness, and I’ll leave you to yours.”

“Barbara,” Batman said gently.

Barbara looked up, angrily brushing a lock of red hair from her eyes.

“I believe you,” Batman said. “I just don’t understand. You’re the daughter of Commissioner Gordon, an old friend of mine. You’re a brilliant young woman. How could you have been like this?”

Barbara sniffed angrily. “How could a multi-millionaire who has everything wear a suit of a flying vermin?” she retorted. “It’s the way the world works. It’s reality. Don’t presume to judge me. I don’t judge you, even after everything you did! After you shot him.”

Batman said nothing for a long moment. “Are you under drugs?”

“Why the hell does it matter to you!?” Barbara shouted at him.

“It matters,” Batman said, then paused. “Because if I’m going to help you, I first need to know your problems.”

Barbara stared at him silently. “Go away. I don’t need your help-”

“This has nothing to do with pity,” Batman said sharply. “Nor has it anything to do with you.”

Barbara stared at him, her eyes very wide.

“It was Robin’s last wish that I tried to understand you. He saw something in you that frankly I don’t see. But because Robin was perfectly willing to die for you, and because I lost someone very special thanks to you, I should at least try to understand why that is.” He paused, and Barbara could hear an edge of raw anger buried in his voice. “Because I don’t understand now.”

Barbara moved away from the wall until she and Batman were eye-to-eye. “How do you know that you won’t shoot me like you did him? How am I supposed to sleep at night with you around!?” she accused.

A long pause. “You don’t sleep,” Batman said flatly.

************************

(2 years later)

Nightwing stood on the very ledge of an abandoned building, watching two people, a married couple, cross the street. He could see the diamonds glittering on the female’s perfumed wrist. Nightwing knew that they were close friends and financiers of Bruce Wayne. He also knew that any moment now they were going to be robbed and probably killed.

Gotham City was that type of place.

He followed them as silently as a shadow, jumping from one ledge to another. He peered down at them closely. Ever since he had returned to Gotham City, he had been patrolling every single night, and sleeping every day. He rarely saw the sunlight. He was no longer Dick Grayson, a college student. That identity was dead to him. He was no longer Robin, previously Batman’s partner and friend. He just was a part of the night. For the past week he had seen gang wars and drug fights, one senseless death after another. He even saw the Joker and Two-Face working together. Nightwing made no move to stop them. Most of the time he simply watched innocent people being ruined and beaten, his face devoid of expression.

These two people were laughing, and happy. Ignorant of the harsh world around them. Well, not for much longer. And sure enough there was a group of men approaching them from behind, laughing and pretending to be drunk. Nightwing saw that their movements were too focused, too determined to be intoxicated.

One of the men asked for a smoke. The couple tried to veer around them. The men surrounded the couple. Laughing, the thugs snatched the diamonds from the woman. The thugs proceeded to beat the man to a bloody pulp. Nightwing watched all of this with a face of stone.

But then one of the thugs noticed how pretty the woman was, how her dress sparkled in the moonlight. The woman screamed. The thug thought that was pretty amusing and reached for her.

Nightwing blinked, and flipped smoothly down to the alleyway, one hand already reaching for a flare. He lit it, making all the thugs cry out in pain and rub their eyes. They had lived in the darkness for too long. Nightwing had only lived in it for a short while.

Nightwing shoved the woman out of the way and attacked the thugs. His feet and fists seemed to move in a dance, never stopping, never pulling back. He punched one in the nose, hit another in the leg, breaking both.

Suddenly one of the men pointed. “It’s him! Let’s get out of here!”

As one the eight men fled past Nightwing. Nightwing frowned. “That was easy.” He turned around, sighing “Are you-”

Two gunshots suddenly split the air. The couple fell to the ground.

For a moment Nightwing was overcome with astonished horror. Then, he ran to the couple’s side. Too late. They were both dead. He looked around, but saw no body. Then he looked down and froze.

A red dot was on his chest, on his heart. It seemed to do a little playful dance. It traced the line under his heart. The scar. Then, the red dot abruptly shut off. Nightwing looked for a source, frowned, but saw nothing.

Suddenly a flash of light blinded Nightwing. Nightwing’s head jerked up, and saw a man holding a camera. Gulping, the man ran down the street, screaming for the police. Nightwing half-rose to stop him, and stopped when he heard the sirens of a police car nearby.

A long moment of silence as Nightwing stared at the dead bodies.

“Great,” Nightwing whispered.

***************************

The next morning, Barbara Gordon entered her clock tower, holding a fresh cup of coffee in her lap. Her hand was slowly on the handle of her wheelchair, guiding it to her dozens of assorted computers. She briefly checked the thousands of security cameras around key banks and government buildings before moving onto the main headlines of the paper for the day. She had just gotten to Catwoman’s escape when the phone rang. She reached over and grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Oracle,” Batman said, his tone, as usual, calm but foreboding.

“Batman,” she greeted with a smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

“It’s Dick Grayson,” Batman said promptly. “He’s returned to Gotham City. I’m going to need your help.”

Barbara paused. “I thought you said that I was never going to see him again,” she said.

“And I thought things could work out between him and me,” Batman said softly.

“Batman?” Barbara inquired.

“He’s gone rogue, Barbara,” Batman explained simply. “He’s already killed two people. We have to stop him before he hurts anyone else.”

***************************

Later that night Nightwing was on his usual rounds, starring at the whole city from down below him. On the roof he watched two police cars pass by the building, the sirens ringing in his ears. He lifted his head slightly when he realized that he wasn’t alone.

“Strange isn’t?” A female voice asked him. A whirl of a cape, and another shadow had joined him on the rooftop. “All those people...just running around like ants, oblivious that there are people like us that save them.” The newcomer paused. “Or hurt them.”

Nightwing was quiet for a moment. “Huntress. Have you been following me?” he asked mildly.

Huntress turned and faced him, smiling her familiar cocky smile. “What are you going to do? Spank me?”

Nightwing didn’t reply.

“It’s a tough decision,” Huntress continued, looking down. “Trying to decide your true nature.”

“I didn’t murder those people, Huntress,” Nightwing said quietly.

Huntress smiled. “I know that. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurt, in turmoil. Confused. You know you could have hurt those people. You don’t know what’s stopping you. You’ve seen the right side of justice and it doesn’t sit well with you. Right now you’re trying to decide if you can do it, if you can take an innocent life. But you don’t dare to, because the moment you do that then there’s no going back, and worse, that you’ll be no better then the criminals you had spent eight years trying to stop.” She paused. “And you also know that Batman will hunt you down like a wild animal. The past years will make no difference to him. He’ll be merciless.”

Nightwing stirred and glanced at her. “Okay, you spend way too much time studying my life.”

Huntress laughed. “I don’t have too. Yours is very similar to mine.” She smiled. “With the difference that I never let myself be the hunted.” She stepped forwards with a raised eyebrow. “Except when I want to be.”

Nightwing side-stepped her so easily that her hand clutched at empty air. “What do you think I should do, Huntress?” he asked. His voice sounded very uncertain. “Since you seem to know so much about the situation, a lot more then I would have wanted you to.”

Huntress ignored the quiet threat. “Personally? I think you would be a bitching criminal, Nightwing.” She walked towards him. She put her hands on his muscled arms. “The darkness really isn’t so bad.” She smiled and bent closer to his face. She kissed him lightly, but tenderly. “Think about it.”

She brushed away from him and disappeared into the night. Nightwing watched her go without replying..

**********************

Meanwhile, in the Batcave Batman was tracing areas on his digital map. “These were his favorite areas of town two years ago. Downstreet and Riverside. Lots of places to maneuver and escape, and it’s easy to get lost if you’re not familiar with the neighborhood,” Batman was saying. He noticed that he was talking to empty air. He turned his head, where his partner Tim Drake was sitting, his head down in thought. “Tim? Are you listening?” Batman demanded.

Tim lifted his head. “Yeah,” he said dully. “Downstreet and Riverside. Got it.”

Batman frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Tim hesitated before speaking. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Trying to take him down? Nightwing was your partner for eight years, Batman!”

“Was,” Batman corrected, then sighed. He stared at Tim gently. “He’s changed, Tim. He’s not the same person I know anymore. I know it’s hard, and it hurts, but sometimes you have to look past the face of your friend, to fight the stranger.”

“But that’s just it!” Tim said sharply. “It seemed like...I dunno, like we were starting to have a connection only yesterday! It seemed like he was starting to listen...Batman, he saved my life!”

“Tim, the only reason he pretended to be your friend was because his survival depended on you!” Batman said sharply. “I trained Dick Grayson to be an expert in hundreds of areas. Manipulation and espionage are two of his best.”

Tim sighed, still not convinced. “Maybe....maybe he didn’t do this. Maybe he’s innocent-”

Batman was starting to get impatient. “Robin, rogues are unpredictable at best, dangerous at worst. They have little or no regard for the law and live a fine line between crime and justice. Eventually, that line gets crossed. It always happens. Just look at Huntress and the damage she caused! They live by their own rules, and no one else’s. You heard Nightwing two days ago. He himself didn’t know what he was going to do!”

“Because of you,” Tim said flatly.

A long pause. “Yes, because of me,” Batman replied. He slammed down the marker on the table. “Which makes this my responsibility!”

********************************

Barbara was in her clock tower, studying the computer for any signs of Nightwing. She lifted her head as a breeze suddenly parted her red hair. “Dick. I haven’t seen you for a while,” she said, turning to face him.

Nightwing stared at her, thunderstruck. The last thing he had ever heard of her, she had left town. Now to find that she was...in a wheelchair!? “Did Batman-” he asked, his voice choked.

“No,” Barbara replied. “It was the Joker.” She raised her eyebrow and directed her wheelchair onwards. “The fact that you could even think that of Batman says a lot about your feelings towards him.”

Nightwing hesitated, then quickly joined her. “Barbara, I’m so sorry-” he began.

Barbara smiled a little. “It’s a part of my life now, Dick. End of story.”

He stared at her. “I searched everywhere in Gotham for you,” he said in wonderment. “I had thousands of contacts...but none of them could find you-”

“They were searching for the wrong person,” Barbara replied. “They should have been searching for Batgirl.”

Nightwing blinked. “Batgirl?” he whispered, not understanding.

She turned her chair around to face him. “Batman taught me after you left. He taught me how to become a better fighter, a better person. I owe him a great deal.” She lifted her eyebrow. “More so then I owe you.” She stared at him. “Underneath my hand is a button that will signal the police. Another button locks down all the doors. Think you can figure a way out in two minutes? I doubt it.” She paused. “Give me a reason not to press both of them.”

Nightwing raised his eyebrow. “‘I love you Dick. I would have never betrayed you’,” he recited ironically, his voice turning cold.

Barbara looked away and sighed. “That was a long time ago. At that time I was undisciplined, young, and on drugs. I’m a different person now, just like you are. Except I’m not sure who you are anymore. Quite possibly a murderer.”

Nightwing shook his head. “You won’t do it.”

Barbara smiled tightly. “Think of it this way, Dick-I would be helping you most of all. For your own safety, you should be behind bars. It’s a better alternative then Batman finding you. He’s searching for you now. I haven’t told him anything.”

Nightwing looked up. “Then you still have feelings for me?” he asked.

“Yes, I do,” Barbara replied evenly. “Pain, regret. Guilt, most of all. Because of me your whole life was changed for the worse.”

He stared at her. “I need your help, Babs,” he said softly.

Barbara stared back at him, and finally sighed and moved her hand away. “I won’t help you destroy Batman,” she said sharply.

“I think someone is framing me,” Nightwing said.

Barbara stared at his face closely. She saw the hardened anger and looked past that. She could see in his eyes a lot of uncertainty, and a lot of reluctance in coming here. “To what end?” she asked.

Nightwing hesitated, then looked down. “I’m not sure,” he said.

Barbara took a long, hard look at him. “All right. I believe you,” she finally said.

Grateful, Nightwing opened his mouth to speak.

Barbara raised her finger, stopping him. “Now, we have to think about this. To what end would someone want to frame you? Revenge?”

Nightwing shook his head. “No. I’ve only been in Gotham City for a few days, and no one knows I’m here except Batman, Robin, Two-Face, whose’s behind bars, and..Huntress.” He paused, lifting his eyebrow. “Could be Huntress. She was watching me at the crime scene, and she wants me to be more like her. Maybe this is some type of game-”

Barbara shook her head. “No, that’s not possible. I’ve been tracking her. She wasn’t anywhere near the crime scene. Money?”

“Don’t have any,” Nightwing denied.

Barbara sighed. “All right. Let’s look at this another way. What does someone have to gain from framing you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Nightwing said, mystified. He paused. “Except for...Batman trying to kill me.”

Barbara leaned back. “Let’s start with that.”

Nightwing thought about it. “Well, no one would even know that Batman and I had any particular connection unless they deduced that I was once Robin....but no, I looked almost entirely different back then.”

“Almost,” Barbara said softly.

Nightwing shook his head. “No, Babs. Not only would they have to deduce who I was, they would also have to know that he and I weren’t getting along near the end.” He sat on the edge of the computer table. “According to the media, it looked like I had disappeared, or murdered.” He shrugged. “It seems pretty far-fetched.”

“But the only theory we have,” Barbara said. “Now, if this is true, then we’re either dealing with some one who’s extremely clever...or has some fairly good computer technology.”

Nightwing raised his eyebrow, bemused.

“Well, to deduce your identity is simple enough,” she said with a shrug. “All someone needs are two good pictures of you as Nightwing and you as Robin. Then that person could compare the height, and length of your body and limbs and distinctive features to find an identical match.”

“That’s not entirely conclusive,” Nightwing pointed out.

“No,” Barbara agreed. “But it’s very plausible.”

Nightwing was silent for a long moment. “Barbara....as I recall all of our pictures are in the Gotham City computer files...aren’t they?”

Barbara’s eyes widened a little. “Are you suggesting that someone compared those same pictures with everyone else in Gotham City-”

“-including Dick Grayson,” Nightwing finished. “And for that matter, Bruce Wayne.”

Barbara’s face was very grim. “In that case, this man might already know your secret identity.”

Nightwing glanced at her. “Or woman,” he corrected.

Barbara stared at him for a moment. “Or woman,” she amended softly. “But it’s still pretty far-fetched.”

Nightwing said nothing, his face very still.

“What is it?” Barbara asked, her voice filled with reluctant concern.

“Just....I keep having the feeling that I’m being watched all the time, and not just by Huntress,” Nightwing said hesitantly. “The Underworld’s watching every step I take, but there’s a larger shadow...near me. Taunting me,” he said.

Barbara shrugged as she moved the wheelchair closer to his side. “I’m sure the Underworld will benefit greatly from a man of your talents, if that’s what you want to do,” she said colly. “Batman would have his work cut out for him.”

Nightwing was watching the sun set in the open balcony. “I should have never come back to Gotham City.”

She smiled gently, a genuine smile, and touched his hand. “Why did you come back, Dick?”

Nightwing didn’t reply as memories stirred like the breeze around him.

***********************

(1 week ago in Spain)

Nightwing climbed up the wall to the window of his apartment, climbed in, and took off his mask with one hand. He took a rag out of his cupboard and dampened it under the faucet. He dabbed his bloodied forehead and winced. It had been a difficult task cracking down on the drug ring, and not without injury. Not even he could avoid all of those rocks. He turned off the faucet, and froze. That’s when he realized that he wasn’t alone. He whirled around, and saw Batman. His lips curled with hatred. “You.”

“Nightwing,” Batman said, pausing a moment as though to savor the new name.

Nightwing edged into the living room, wishing for some reason for his mask to be back on. “Get the hell out of here,” he said.

“Two-Face is back in Gotham City,” Batman said promptly. “Several people are already dead. More will follow.”

A pause.

Nightwing had to laugh. “So that’s it,” he said. “No apologies, no explanations. You just waltz in here and automatically expect me to help you.” He sneered at Batman. “I’m not the same person I was two years ago, Batman. I don’t answer to you!”

Another pause. Then Batman tossed a folder on the glass table. Nightwing turned his head slightly to see that it was a police folder. “There’s a plane tomorrow morning for Gotham City at eight a.m. Be on it,” Batman ordered. He turned to leave through the window.

Nightwing raised his eyebrow, snatched the folder from the table, and threw it through the window before Batman could leave. “I’m not going to help you,” he said.

Batman didn’t seem concerned. “Yes, you will.”

Nightwing folded his arms. “What makes you so sure?” he demanded angrily.

Batman paused for a moment. “Because I know you, Dick. I know you’re too angry to even listen to what I have to say. I know that you have every right to be angry. But I also know that you don’t like to hide for long.” He paused again. “And that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for the past two years. You’ve been hiding from me, and hiding from yourself. I don’t have the option of letting you do that anymore.” He stepped out onto the ledge of the window.

Nightwing looked down. “I don’t go by that name anymore, Bruce,” he said.

“All right,” Batman said evenly.

Nightwing looked up at him. “Why don’t you get Tim Drake to help you?” he asked softly, mockingly.

Batman said nothing as he disappeared.

Nightwing sighed heavily, then grabbed his keys. He had a police report somewhere in the frozen streets he needed to find.

***********************

(Now)

“And so you went back with him,” Barbara said.

Nightwing lowered his head and laughed. “I tried to take a later flight just, you know, out of spite. You know what the most irritating thing is? Batman knew that, and we both boarded the 9 a.m together.” He shook his head. “He always could predict me. Even in times when I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Barbara asked him.

Nightwing lifted his head, his blue eyes very focused. “The last thing he expects me to do. I’m going to be Dick Grayson again,” he said.

************************

It was midnight at Wayne Manor.

Tim was working out in the hazard course outside of the mansion. Despite all of his best efforts, he couldn’t get to sleep. Once, a very long time ago, he was nothing more then a street kid. Unfocused, undisciplined. Batman had changed that, taught him several forms of martial arts combining both mind and body as one. He climbed up the robes with astonishing speed. He owed a lot to Batman. Before he had never once questioned Batman’s decisions, even when they made very little sense at the time.

But, as he climbed across the thin ropes stretched out over the fountain, he couldn’t help but feel that Batman’s decision was so wrong. He barely knew Dick Grayson, barely understood the conflict between him and Batman. Yet somehow he just knew that Dick Grayson was innocent of those murders. He flipped downwards onto the gravel and stared at the dark fountain for a moment, watching the ripples his hand made. The prospect of Batman being wrong scared him just as much as the possibility of Nightwing going rogue.

He suddenly heard the sound of boots echoing against pavement. Tim’s head jerked up at the noise. He wasn’t wearing his robin outfit, but still he walked towards the rustling sound. It came from Bruce’s hedge maze. He entered the cold, dark vines, every muscle trained on alert. From a distance he could hear Alfred’s dogs barking. Lights were being turned on.

He was in the middle of the hedge maze now. The sound was close, very close. Tim bit his lips nervously.

All of a sudden Dick Grayson appeared in front of him. “Tim,” he said.

Tim’s eyes widened in disbelief. He had never before seen Dick Grayson without his Nightwing costume. Dick Grayson was a little older, with blue eyes and dark brown hair. He wore a blue jacket and jeans. Tim marveled about how the cause of all Batman’s troubles looked so...young. Then Tim realized that Dick’s face was filled with neither the bitter hatred or coldness that Tim had come to expect. Instead he looked very scared. Dick Grayson looked so different...so much more human then Nightwing that the difference was terrifying.

Tim realized that he was staring. He cleared his throat. “Dick! What are you doing here?”

Dick shook his head. “I didn’t kill those people, Tim. You have to believe that.”

Tim blinked. “Me? Why? Why is it so important that I believe you? And why should I believe you?”

Dick looked up at the sound of Alfred’s dogs barking closer. “I don’t have time to explain. Suffice to say that there is someone else out there. He’s trying to frame me so that Batman will be distracted when the real crime comes! At least, that’s my theory.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you telling me this?” he demanded.

“Because this person is very clever, Tim. I know it, I can feel it. I don’t think Batman can take him, and it’s not going to be while he’s trying to kill the wrong person!”

Tim was still confused. “I thought you hated Batman! Why are you trying to protect him!?”

Dick shook his head, the anger returning. “Believe me Tim, protecting Batman is the last thing I would ever do. I’m trying to protect-”

“Master Drake?” Alfred asked, running to his side. “Is everything all right? I heard voices.”

Tim looked back and blinked in astonishment.

There was no one there, only the calm darkness.

“Nothing,” Tim said. “No one at all. I was just...talking to myself.”

Alfred smiled thinly. “I’m sure you were, Master Drake. Of course, many were the times that I found Master Bruce ‘talking to himself’ quite often here when he was your age. Shall we go inside? I’ve prepared a fine meal for the both of you-”

Alfred led Tim away, still talking. On the other side of the hedge Dick hung upside down on the vines precariously, his muscles screaming but not daring to make a sound. Finally, eight minutes later, he deemed it was safe and dropped lightly to the ground.

****************************

Later that evening, well into the night, Tim changed into his Robin costume and patrolled the streets. Very fortunately for Nightwing, the bat-signal had distracted Batman tonight and he was still out on another case. How long that would take, Tim had no idea. Tim needed all the time he could get to track down Nightwing. He needed more information before he could trust him. It sounded like Nightwing had a pretty good idea who was doing this. If only he-

“Looking for me?” a soft female asked him as he approached an empty alleyway.

Tim whirled around, and his green eyes widened. Tim couldn’t help but stare openly at her. This woman was beautiful! She had tanned skin, shapely but firm muscled legs, and predatory brown hair that was loose around her shoulder with shining blue eyes. She wore boots, brown shorts and a very skimpy brown top. A silver medallions hung from her neck.

She smiled and did a little turn for him. “Like the view?” she asked.

Tim blinked, then coughed loudly. “It’s pretty...pretty,” he managed to say.

“Well, I try,” Huntress said, smiling her large smile. “So this is the second Robin.” She paused. “No, wait-the third one now, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “Batman sure needs to take better care of his children, doesn’t he?”

Tim watched her, his eyes very large. Third? Did she say third? Who else?

“I’m trying to find Nightwing-”

Huntress shook her head slightly. “You don’t want to go where he is now.” She stepped forwards and stretched her arms on his shoulders. She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “It’s dark, and cold, and it’s nowhere anyone should be. Especially not a kid.”

She moved away from him so fast that she was like a shadow. “Why exactly do you want to see Nightwing, anyway? Or are you trying to incarcerate him yourself to maybe get some brownie points?”

“He’s...he’s my friend,” Robin said with a slight hesitation. “I want to help him.”

She laughed. “As I understand it, Batman wants to kill him.”

He blinked. “How did you-”

“Words gets around,” she said with a wink. “The Underworld knows everything that’s happening. They have their own gambling tables and everything. They’ve got dibs that Nightwing wins.” She lifted herself onto the cement block, and patted the area next to her.

After a moment, Robin joined her.

“Not a lot of people like us have friends, Robin,” she said, her tone unusually serious. “How do I know that this isn’t a trap?”

“I’m not here with Batman,” Robin said quietly. “I believe Nightwing is innocent of the murders.”

“Of course he is,” Huntress said with a shrug. “I know it. You know it. Nightwing knows it. And Batman knows it.”

“No he doesn’t,” Robin said.

She glanced at him. “Yes, he does,” she said firmly. “But it doesn’t matter. I know the story. Nightwing told me. He’s Batman’s personal failure, and if there’s one thing we both should know by now, is that Batman never fails gracefully.”

**************************

Nightwing was in the underworld.

It was a filthy hole of thieves, gamblers, and hired assassins. The prime place for people like Two-Face or the Joker to pick up daily thugs. In fact they hired the same kind of people so often that Nightwing pretty much knew the name, alias, and birthday of every single grunt imaginable. It was also a hot spot for information.

Those that saw him gave him a wide berth, their eyes wide with respect and fear. Somehow, word had gotten about that Nightwing was the first Robin. The only reason that he wasn’t slashed to little bits was that it was a known fact that Nightwing was also going up against Batman himself. And any distraction for Batman increases their profits. Still, it was a calculated risk coming here. Robin had dealt a lot of damage in his time.

The Underworld was largely held in the sewers, but Nightwing wisely decided to try above ground first. He entered an alleyway where Rimmy the rat was supposed to live. A prime source of information, Rimmy always sold out to the best buyer. Both Robin and Dick Grayson, as a matter of fact, had squeezed information out of the man before. Nightwing approached him at his table.

Rimmy looked up with absolutely no fear in his eyes. “Robin-I mean, Nightwing! How nice of you to visit. Pull up a chair. Are you here to gamble? The odds are in your favor today against Batman!”

Nightwing couldn’t help but smile. Rimmy was also his friend...on the days he didn’t sell him or Batman out. “All right, put me down for a fifty.” He produced a bill. “For me, of course.” He added quickly.

“No problem,” Rimmy said cheerfully. “That’s what I always liked about you, Robin. You always knew when to have some fun, unlike that stiff upper lip Batman!” He wrote Nightwing’s name on a card. “That, and you were always nice to me. What can I do for you today?”

Nightwing’s face turned serious. “Someone’s framed me, Rimmy, and I don’t think it’s one of your gambling buddies. Someone who wants to see Batman try to kill me. My theory is that this guy’s doing this to distract Batman from the real crime. So what’s the story?”

Rimmy’s face paled. “O-O-Oh, no can do Nightey. You’re going into deep, bad territory with that question.”

“Why?” Nightwing demanded. “You have no problems with dishing out info for me and Batman, even at the risk of your own life!”

“Yeah, but thing is I’m smart,” Rimmy explained. “I know not to stick my nose too deep.”

Nightwing shook his head with false sadness. “Rimmy, this guy’s already killed two people. You want that on your rap sheet too?”

“Better a rap sheet then a morgue sheet!” Rimmy retorted. “This guy you’re looking for is the sorta guy who stole nuclear weapons not two days ago, if you get my drift.”

Nightwing looked away. “Is it someone I know?” he demanded.

Rimmy nodded.

Nightwing said nothing for a long moment. “What else can you tell me?”

“Only that this guy’s got plans for you. Not for the Bats, not for his little twerp but for you, Nightwing. All the time, this guy’s been targeting you and you alone. You’re like his favorite hobby. His plans are going to happen very soon, in a matter of hours.” He pointed at Nightwing. “And you, my ex-feathered friend, are going to be in the spotlight.”

Nightwing shook his head. “That’s not good enough, Rimmy. Who is this guy?”

Rimmy shook his head. “Oh, Nightwing, you know I can’t-”

Nightwing’s hand swept aside the table in one sweeping motion. He gripped Rimmy’s neck before the rat could get away. “Who is he!?” he demanded.

Rimmy struggled for breath. “N-Nightwing! We’re best friends-”

“Does he know who I am!?” Nightwing demanded.

Rimmy chuckled. “Will you honestly kill me, Nightwing? An innocent businessman?”

“You’re not innocent,” Nightwing sneered. His grip tightened. “And I’m not the same person I was two years ago, Rimmy. I don’t have any ethical problem with cutting your guts out.”

Amazingly, Rimmy laughed and pointed. “It seems you have other problems at the moment.”

Nightwing jerked his head to the right. A dozen police cars had surrounded him both ways of the alley. Commissioner Gordon jumped out of the car.

Nightwing closed his eyes, well aware that his reputation was looking better and better all the time. “Dammit,” he whispered.

“We have you surrounded, Nightwing. Let the kid go!” Commissioner Gordon ordered.

Nightwing smiled slightly, then released the boy, his hands raised. “Batman, I don’t find this the least amusing,” he muttered to himself. He looked around, but didn’t any sign of his arch-nemesis. Out loud, he said, “Commissioner Gordon. You’re out late.”

“Keep your hands raised!” Gordon ordered.

Nightwing shrugged and raised his hands higher. “By any chance, did you know that I used to be Robin?” he asked off-handily.

****************************

Robin rushed from one rooftop to the next, following the signs of the sirens. He looked down, and saw Nightwing surrounded by dozens of police. “Oh, no,” he whispered.

***************************

Gordon jerked at a police officer with his head. The police officer, not happy in the least to be picked out, approaching Nightwing very cautiously.

“I know who you are,” Gordon snapped. “Or rather, I know who you were. You’re in a lot of trouble, son.”

Nightwing raised his eyebrow as the police officer snapped a handcuff on his left wrist. “Batman undoubtably told you where I was? Did he say anything else?” he asked as the police officer brought his two wrists together behind his back.

“Only that you wouldn’t come quietly,” Gordon said.

Nightwing tilted his head. “Damn right.” His right wrist suddenly snapped free of the handcuff just as it was about to click into place, whirled around, and grabbed the police officer to use as a shield.

Gordon was taking no chances. “Fire!” he shouted.

“Oh, hell!” Nightwing snapped, breaking free of the police officer as the rest of the cops fired. He ran up a trash can, grabbed the metal grating of a staircase underneath, and flipped himself onto the level as the cops fired at him. Bullets ricochet off the metal grating and the concrete wall. One snipped Nightwing in the edge of his ear and left a tiny hole forever. Nightwing raced up the staircase, pausing only to confirm that the police officer was dead. He was. No time for second thoughts. He raced up the steps, each one taking him away further from the bullets. One got lucky and snagged him in the side. Nightwing stumbled and swore. He reached the top level and hauled himself onto the rooftop, already breaking into a run.

An arm suddenly snapped against the side of his neck, making him flip to the concrete. Stunned,

Nightwing looked up, coughing and rubbing his neck.

Batman stood over him, a black and evil shadow of the night.

“Batman,” Nightwing snarled.

Batman’s hand grabbed Nightwing and threw him with an incredible feat of strength against the wall. Nightwing’s body smashed against the concrete. Nightwing closed his eyes and groaned in pain. He whirled around, only to find Batman right behind him. He grabbed Nightwing by the throat and shoved him again against the wall. “It’s still not too late, Dick,” Batman said, his voice very heavy. “Surrender.”

Nightwing had to laugh. “Do you surrender when the criminals give you the option? I don’t think so!”

Nightwing’s fist suddenly smashed against the side of Batman’s jaw. Surprised, Batman stumbled back a few steps, his cape flapping in the wind. Nightwing launched himself against the roof, flying into the air. His one hand touched the concrete as he flipped forwards. Batman’s hand clutched at empty air, barely missing him.

As soon as Nightwing’s boots hit the ground he tucked and rolled, dodging Batman’s razor-sharp kick. Nightwing jumped to his hands, lifting himself into the air as Batman tried to kick him again in the head, barely missing him by millimeters. Nightwing fell smoothly back to his feet.

Breathing hard, Batman watched his every move like a hawk. Beats of sweat started to form underneath his cowl.

“Besides,” Nightwing managed to say. “What does prison offer me? A lifetime of just...rotting away. You know that I would rather go down fighting. I just always used to think it would be fighting alongside you!”

With that Nightwing launched himself at Batman in a frenzy, his fists flying through the air. Batman barely managed to dodge them, ducked as Nightwing’s boot swiped against his head, and, seeing an opening, punched him where the bullet was deeply buried in his flesh.

Nightwing drew back, gasping and clutching his side in pain. Then he laughed. “Karate, Judo, Tai Chi.....When you took me away from the circus that day you changed my life. You taught me how to fight, literature, school.....hell, you taught me how to live again after my parents died!

“I remember,” Batman replied, the two fighters circling each other. “They would be ashamed of what you are now, Dick.”

“Me?” Nightwing echoed. “What about you!? You were my childhood hero, the man who gave me hope and a reason to live! And you took that all away! Now all I feel is...nothing. I stared at the body of that policeman who died because of me...and I feel nothing except hate and grief, and you have no idea who much it is a struggle not to express that hatred everyday!”

With a small cry Nightwing attacked Batman. Batman suddenly whirled around, faster then Nightwing’s eye could even follow, and suddenly Nightwing saw that his back was to Batman.

“I do understand,” Batman said, almost gently. “That’s why you have to be stopped.”

Nightwing suddenly felt a bar of hot iron slam against his back. Nightwing pitched forwards and fell, his body sliding against the concrete. His body rolled and he struck the edge of the roof. Nightwing tried to get up but he couldn’t. His back hurt so much.....biting his lip, he struggled to stand up, looking at the city below him. Below him he could see the sirens, the police cars surrounding the building. He was already bleeding pretty badly, and Nightwing had been through enough martial arts to know that Batman had temporarily paralyzed his body.

Nightwing saw Batman approaching slowly. Nightwing knew that jail would be pointless. Nightwing would only escape. Nightwing saw Batman’s blue eyes were devoid of mercy or compassion and realized that Batman knew that too. So what did he have planned? Nightwing looked down at the large crowd several miles below him. Suddenly Nightwing realized what Batman was going to do. Batman’s cold eyes confirmed this. One little push.....It was at that moment Nightwing realized, not for the first time, that the past ten years didn’t make a damn difference.

From the next rooftop the Huntress was watching silently, her brown eyes for once filled with deep concern. Still, she did not make one single move.

Nightwing struggled to speak. “I didn’t kill those people.” His tone became sharp. Even in the face of his miserable end he was angry. “You know, just for whatever it’s worth.”

Batman didn’t speak, approaching closer. Once his friend, now his executioner. Nightwing closed his eyes.

Robin suddenly walked in between them. “Batman. Stop. Don’t do this!” he said.

Tim’s eyes widened. The entire mask of Batman suddenly transformed into a monster! He actually growled at Robin angrily, almost not recognizing him at all.

From behind him Nightwing shook his head weakly. “Don’t, Tim. Don’t get involved. He’ll just kill you too.”

Batman threw Nightwing one last, contemptuous glance before focusing all of his burning blue eyes upon the boy wonder. “You can’t stop this, Robin,” he snarled.

When all of a sudden something very hard hit Batman in the back of the head. He fell to the ground, instantly unconscious.

“No,” Barbara Gordon said from behind him, holding a Batarang in her lap. “But I will.”

Nightwing stared at her in astonishment. “Oracle-”

Barbara’s head jerked up at the sound of his voice. “Dick, run!” she commanded. “Get out of here before he wakes up!”

Nightwing needed no further encouragement. He dived off the roof.

Tim followed his movements. “I hope he has a way of stopping himself on the way down,” he remarked. He winced as he heard the sounds of multiple crashings. “Ouch.”

Barbara glanced at him. “Nightwing’s a survivor, Tim,” she said quietly.

Tim gestured at Batman. “What do we do with-?”

“We take him back to Wayne Manor. And pray that he stops to listen first after he wakes up,” Barbara replied. “We also might want to pack away any breakables.”

**********************

Tim had seen Batman in many moods-angry, moody, frustrated, and only occasionally happy. But he had very rarely in his young life ever seen Batman absolutely furious.

It was in those moments that Tim made sure that he was very far from Batman. Preferably in another continent, if possible. Except for this case. This time Batman’s rage was entirely directed at him.

“I trusted you,” Bruce Wayne said, very softly. His voice was almost as smooth as silk. “You betrayed that trust.”

Both of them were in the Bat-cave, out of their costumes. Tim was too afraid to reply.

Bruce slowly said,. “If there’s one thing you should be able to figure out from Dick Grayson, Tim, is that I despise traitors. What you did was inexcusable.”

Looking down, Tim tried to speak. “Bruce, I don’t believe that Dick’s guilty of-”

“Quiet,” Bruce hissed at him. His voice was laced with disappoint, and worse, contempt. “Just be quiet, Tim. You let a dangerous man and a murderer escape, Tim, and every death that follows will be because of you. But worse then that, you deliberately betrayed my faith in you. You don’t deserve to wear that costume. No, you don’t deserve to be in this house!”

Even hard-core streetkid Tim couldn’t stand it. He lowered his head, tears starting to form in his eyes.

Batman’s voice was as sharp as a whip. “Look at me!”

Sniffing, Tim couldn’t. He was too afraid.

A calm, cool voice behind them. “Leave the kid alone, Bruce,” Barbara ordered, approaching with her electrical wheelchair. “It wasn’t his fault.”

If possible, Bruce’s face became even more cold. “Tim. Go.”

Tim needed no further encouragement. He ran out of the batcave as fast as his legs could take him. He moved so fast that Barbara silently marveled that he really did move as fast as a robin.

Bruce stared at her. “Don’t think that just because you’re in the wheelchair that I’ll treat you any differently,” he said quietly to her.

“And don’t think for one moment that I was any less defenseless then when I was Batgirl,” Barbara retorted calmly. “You always gave me no special treatment, Batman. That became painfully obvious when you took me in, and trained me to be just like you.” She smiled a little. “I remember suffering from withdrawal. You tied me to a bed and locked me in a room. I begged with you, pleaded for you to let me out. You didn’t.” Her voice became sharp. “I lost my addiction, but I earned claustrophobia.” She moved closer to him. “You were always like that. Hard core. Your way or the highway. No breaks, no mercy. No exceptions. Dick isn’t like you, Batman. Even if he didn’t leave, he would have suffocated to death. And Tim will too, though the poor kid doesn’t know it yet.”

Batman shook his head. “I don’t have time for this,” he said. He turned to leave.

“You must be so happy right now,” Barbara said, staring at him in astonishment.

Bruce turned back, puzzled.

“You finally got what you wanted. The boy who gave you so much pain by rejecting you is finally back. Now you don’t care what he has to say, just as long as you can feed him back some of that grief,” she said.

“Barbara, he’s a murderer,” Batman said, his teeth gritting impatiently. There was a raw edge in his voice, almost animal-like. A sign that he shouldn’t be pushed any further.

But Barbara Gordon never retreated. “What was it like, Bruce?” she asked. “After eight years of working together, how did it feel to have him slam the door in your face? Bet it must have hurt. Maybe it was an accident that you shot him, though you’re certainly very eager to shoot him again-”

“ENOUGH!” Batman roared in her face.

Even Barbara drew back a little. Fear flickered in her green eyes.

But Batman didn’t even notice. “You think that I don’t regret for one moment what happened!? Every night, every moment that memory has haunted me for two years! Was it my fault? I honestly don’t know, Barbara. Maybe I did shoot him. I have to live with that uncertainty for the rest of my life. And now Dick Grayson has become this...this monster, I despise myself every time I hit him, every time I hurt him! I wrestle with my conscience on whether or not to leave him be. But I can’t, Barbara, because he’s killing innocent people.” He glared at her. “So don’t you damn well think that this is easy for me, because it’s not!” He turned, about to storm away.

Barbara looked up. “Bull,” she said, very softly.

Batman’s head snapped back to her. He growled deep in his throat, like a wild animal.

Even so, Barbara approached closer with her wheelchair. “I think that for you it’s very easy. Unforgivingly easy. Rip off all the masks for a moment-Batman, Robin, Nightwing...see the real people behind them. See Dick Grayson, and try to imagine what he’s feeling right now. He’s lost, confused. Alone.” She shook her red head. “What you’re doing does not make you a hero. It does not make you the savior of Gotham City. It makes you a bad parent!” she said, her voice very firm.

Bruce was so pale that for a moment he couldn’t speak. He turned away.

Barbara looked away, the fear still sketched on her face. Her head recoiled when she heard a very unusual sound.

She heard laughter.

Batman was laughing.

His hands on his knees, Bruce Wayne was laughing. He finally stopped and wiped away a tear. “You know, Barbara, there are very few people in this world that can kill Batman. But this is the first time, ever, that someone has stood up to him to prove him wrong,” he said.

Barbara smiled a little. “I guess you taught me pretty well, didn’t you?”

Bruce sat down heavily next to her. “Barbara, I just don’t know what to do,” he said.

Barbara gripped his shoulder. “You keep saying that Nightwing is a stranger. A monster. He isn’t, Bruce. He’s Dick Grayson, and right now he needs your help more then ever.”

Bruce shook his head. “I don’t know how to help him,” he whispered.

She reached over and gripped his hand. “Find a way,” she said firmly. “Any method is better then shooting him.”

*********************

Dick limped his way home to his apartment, bitting his lip to keep from screaming. He was in serious, serious pain. He kicked open his door and entered his small, shabby apartment. Life without being the ward of a millionaire had its drawbacks. He ripped opened the desk drawer and found what he needed-medical supplies. He peeled back his armor and winced in pain. Then, he looked around for a thread and a needle.

Three hours later he could finally stand again. His eyes were closed in pain. Gods, he felt so tired of it all. He was sick of everything, and every day was just more pain. He looked out at Gotham City, at its beautiful twinkling lights. “Why do I even bother?” he whispered, and discovered, to his horror, that he had no answer to that question.

The phone suddenly rang.

Dick hesitated, then picked it up. “Hello?” he said.

“Nightwing,” a male voice purred. A voice he didn’t recognize.

He listened silently to the words in his ear that followed. He didn’t speak. He didn’t change expression. When it was over he hanged up the phone. He stared at it for a long moment, his hands leaning on a chair His blue eyes stared only at darkness. “So. Finally, the end,” Dick whispered.

*************************

Barbara was late on her computer in the clock tower when the e-mail came. She opened it up, hardly taking her eyes off the twenty other computer screens she had. It was only after many minutes did she finally glanced at it.

Her eyes were instantly glued to the monitor.

Barbara,

Hey, Babs. It’s me. Dick. I can’t write for long-I’ve got a meeting with a guy who wants to plant a nuclear bomb in the heart of Gotham City. Hm, bad way to start a letter, isn’t it? Oh, well, too late to stop now. We were right. He does know my secret identity. Anyway, this man wants me to meet him, to talk. I don’t intend to disappoint him. But I’m not going as Nightwing. I’m not going as Robin. I’m going as myself. All masks are cast off now. And...I think I want to be true to myself, one last time.

You see Barbara, I’m quite through being a hero. Despite how much I want to be, I’m not a criminal either. Most of all, I’m through running and fighting. I have a feeling that this man is incredibly dangerous, Babs, and I’m not sure if I’m going to survive. But, seeing how my life’s going, I kinda doubt it, though I’ll damn well see that bomb’s destroyed before I call it quits. And even if he doesn’t run me down, then Batman will. But that’s O.K too, believe it or not. You see Barbara, if anyone’s going to kill me....I want it to be him. And if by some miracle I survive both battles, even against that old son of a bitch, then I’ll most likely kill myself anyway. Bottom line is, I don’t think I’m going to be around much longer.

I just wanted to tell you....that despite all that happened, I don’t blame you for what happened two years ago. Not in the least. Even after losing so much, you were still the most beautiful thing to enter my life. Believe that.

Anyhow, gotta go. Almost time for the meeting. I time-delayed this e-mail so that you wouldn’t, you know, ha ha, follow me. You know me. Not very good at good-byes. A little late to try and get better now.

With all the love I still have,

Dick.

***********************

His hands in his pockets of his blue jacket, Dick walked towards the old factory. It was well past midnight, and the sky was dark and cloudy. A small breeze was in the air. Dick walked up the small driveway and entered a factory.

It was abandoned. Dick looked left and right. He must be on the roof. Silently he climbed up the steps to the forty-eighth level and opened the door to the roof.

A single figure was standing at the edge. Beyond the roof was assorted old construction equipment hanging in the air. Dick didn’t recognize the man-not at first. It was too dark.

Then he heard the laughter.

It was deep, hysterical laughter, laughter that chilled Dick’s heart. He recognized it instantly, had heard it often enough in his nightmares. “Joker?” he whispered in puzzlement.

The Joker whirled around. He was wearing his dazzling purple suit was silver sparkles and buttons, and his familiar bizarre green hair. He pointed at Dick Grayson and laughed hysterically. “Isn’t life a joke, Dick Grayson!?”

‘Yes, it was,’ Dick thought confidently. He was also fairly confident that he was going crazy. “I’ll just close my eyes now,” he whispered weakly, too low for Joker to hear. “And I’ll be in Arkhum Asylum, in a straight jacket, in a warm, soft, padded room. And everything will be better. Right?”

“Wrong,” Joker said from right behind him, and shoved him to the ground. Dick’s head lifted in astonishment. He had his eyes trained on the Joker the entire time. How the hell did he get behind him!? Dick moved to get up.

The Joker was pointing a gun at him, similar to the one Robin and himself had found. It generated an electrical charge, powerful enough to fry every cell in his body. Dick froze.

“Better,” the Joker said cheerfully. “I never underestimate my enemies, Dick Grayson, or Robin, or Nightbrat-rat, or whatever you’re calling yourself these days.”

Dick stood. Slowly. “You’re the one who framed me,” he whispered.

“But of course,” the Joker purred in a french accent. He bowed mockingly.

“Why?” Nightwing demanded.

“Why? Why, said the rat’s bat to the cat, it’s quite simple,” Joker said, faintly surprised. “You’re a hero. A defender of justice. For that you must pay dearly. It has always been my driving ambition to ruin those that would defend our fair Gotham from honest people like me!” the last words ended in a shouted. He shrugged. “Everyone’s gotta have a hobby.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You always were insane,” he remarked.

“Maybe,” Joker said cheerfully. “But look at the damage I’ve caused, Robin. I’ve ruined the friendship between you and the Bat forever. I’ve throughly wrecked your life, and I came this close to making you just like me.”

Dick Grayson shook his head. “You should have just killed me,” he whispered.

“Ah, my boy, that would have made your life very easy,” Joker said, raising the gun. “Don’t delude yourself, I am going to kill you now. I’m getting quite sick of your moping and sulking, though it was very fun when I called the cops on you! A man died because of you. Now, once a celebrated hero, you’re now disgraced. Alone. Hated.” He charged the gun. “Like me.”

Dick stood in front of him silently..

Joker paused. “But maybe, just to make your life horribly miserable one last time, I should tell you what really happened that day two years ago. It wasn’t the bat who killed you, kid. It was me. I saw who you were the day my hired grunts threw you off the roof. And later, I’m the one who-” he lifted his finger and jabbed it into Dick’s chest, the exact area of where the scar was. “A normal bullet designed in a sniper gun.”

Dick looked up, his head spinning. “But Batman’s gun...it was smoking.”

“Oh, you heroes, you’re always so naive!” Joker said, shouted. “A simple trick of mine. Those were my goons talking with Barbara Gordon.” He laughed. “It was a trick gun, set to smoke whether Batman pulled the trigger or not!” He stretched. “And now, my ultimate revenge against Batman.....through the only person he cared for more then himself, is finally complete!” He aimed the gun.

Dick’s face twisted. “You son of a bitch!” he shouted. He threw himself straight at Joker just as Joker fired. The discharge caught him in the chest, leaving his blue shirt smoking. Still Dick launched himself at Joker, delivering punch after punch, tears running down his cheeks.

Dick’s vision suddenly sizzled with pain as lemon juice blinded his eyes. Crackling through bloodied lips, the Joker shoved Dick off of him. Dick scrambled to his feet, blinking rapidly, as the Joker, still laughing, struggled to his feet.

“No-one-knows-the-truthhh,” the Joker sang merrily, side-stepping Dick’s fist and hitting him against the back of his skull. Dick crumbled to the ground with a grunt. The Joker gripped the stunned Dick by his collar and dragged him mercilessly across the concrete. “Nobody cares about you, and when they find your mutilated corpse they’ll just assume that another killer has been sent to justice. And then, I’ll work on the other Robin next!” He took out his very large, sharp knife. “Now, Nightwing,” he hissed. “This is a message that Batman will genuinely enjoy!” He plunged the knife downwards.

Dick rolled away at the last moment as the knife plunged into the concrete, breathing heavily. Joker gripped him by his brown hair and punched him in the face. “The Boy Wonder,” the Joker said mockingly. With an inconceivable amount of strength he threw Dick Grayson over the roof.

At the last moment, Dick gripped the edge of the roof with both of his hands, the only thing keeping him from plunging several levels below to a certain death. He closed his eyes as the wind mercilessly cut through his body.

Humming, Joker picked up his knife from the ground and held it high. Dick saw it flash through the moonlight. ‘Oh, this is really going to hurt,’ Dick could only think as the steel went straight through the middle of his hand. Dick screamed in agony as Joker mercilessly drove the blade in deeper. Overcome by the pain, Dick lost his grip and hanged there. The only thing that kept him from plunging to his death with the blade that was deeply buried in the concrete. The thought gave him little comfort.

With a sickly grin Joker leaned closer. “Bye-bye, little birdie,” he whispered. With a sharp yank he removed the knife. Dick fell.

He screamed as his body plummeted from the building. Nothing in all of his long years as either Robin or Nightwing could save him. He seriously doubted that even Batman could. His tumbling body hit a steel beam and bounced. Dimly, somehow he managed to grip the cable that was attached to the beam and the wall. The cable broke from the wall in a shower of sparks and he plunged downwards again. His body jerked three levels before, miraculously, the cable held to the beam. Dick heard the undeniable sounds of the bones in his bloodied hand breaking from the strain. Shaking violently in mid-air, Dick clung to the cable desperately with his hand. Even then he knew it was a useless effort. He could hang on, but he couldn’t climb up with a broken hand. So he just stayed there, swinging gently, Gotham City in front of him. Tears flooded his eyes as his last minute on this world ticked by.

The Bat-copter flew over him, illuminating his body with a spot-light. His brown hair blew everywhere, and the air around him whistled. Dimly Dick could see a rope ladder being dropped, and someone jumped down to the rooftop.

A moment later he could see a shadow above him, looking down. ‘Tim’, he thought with relief, then saw that it wasn’t Tim.

It was Batman.

Dick licked his dry lips. He was suddenly very angry. “So this is the way it ends, Batman?” he spat, slowly swinging on the cable. He shouted against the noise. “Congratulations, you’ve won! I’ll die, and they’ll praise you a hero for bringing another street killer to justice. No one will question what really happened. No one will care!”

Dick’s grip, bad as it was, began to grow slippery from the blood. For a few seconds Dick managed one last, feeble attempt to hang on before he fell. ‘So this was my life?’ he wondered vaguely.

When all of a sudden his blue jacket snagged on something and he jerked to a halt after only dropping five levels. He lifted his head very slowly and saw a wire hanging from his jacket to the rooftop. Batman had fired a baterang at him.

A few seconds later, Batman tossed down a second Batarang and climbed down to join him. “I care,” Batman said softly, turning his head to face him.

Dick shook his head slightly in disbelief. “You should have let me die,” he shouted. “It would have made both of our lives a lot easier!”

Batman smiled, a very tiny smile, and swung and gripped Dick’s arm, securing him to another Batarang. “Maybe. But I’m not the monster you think I am, Dick,” he said. “And if you didn’t realize that during the past eight years, then it’s time you learn now.” He moved in closer to help Dick climb up the wall.

Dick felt hot tears beginning to form beneath his eyelids. “I hate you,” he whispered.

Batman only nodded silently as he helped Dick climb up and eventually over the edge of the roof. Dick collapsed to the ground, his whole body shaking with silent sobs. For a moment Batman silently held him, the same anger and pain reflected in his own heart. But for the first time ever, that anger was directed at neither of them.

“Batman!” Robin called out, approaching him. He pointed off into the distance where they could just dimly see Joker’s green hair. “Joker’s getting away!”

Batman stood. “Take care of Nightwing,” he ordered. Without another glance he turned and ran, his cape flapping.

Robin crouched down and helped Nightwing lean against the edge of the roof. His green eyes stared at Dick’s hand in concern. There was so much blood......Dick was rapidly falling in and out of consciousness, his face very pale.

“Batman,” Dick whispered. “Where is he?”

“He’s going after Joker,” Robin said gently. “Just relax.”

Dick tried to stand. “I need....to....help Batman,” he whispered through numb lips. He collapsed. “Gods, I never once expected to say that ever again.”

Robin helped him sit up. “You’ve done all you can, Dick. Just take it easy! You’re going to be all right.”

A shadow was suddenly behind them. “No. I don’t think he will,” Joker said cheerfully, holding the electric gun. “My, my, which one are you? It’s like a costume party where everyone comes as the same batbrat.”

Robin stood protectively in front of Dick Grayson, who had lapsed into unconscious. Tim couldn’t help but look bewildered as he eyed the area where Batman was still running.

The Joker grinned. “Trick mirrors, Kid. Child’s play. Speaking of, you’re not that much older then one, are you? Well, isn’t this a welcome surprise. Now I get to kill all of Batman’s little birds of a feather just like the last!”

‘The last?’ Robin wondered. Still, he shook his head. “It’s not going to be that way, Joker. You’ve lost.”

Joker grinned even more, stretching his lips to a hideous distance. “Oh, please. Do you really think that a little brat like you will-” the last of his words were lost as Robin whirled around, his boot striking the Joker’s white face. Another kick and the gun skidded across the ground.

The Joker fell back a step, holding his bloodied lips with a purple gloved hand.

“This ends now, Joker,” Robin said confidently. “No matter how hard you try, we’ll always beat you.”

The Joker threw his head back and laughed hysterically, his voice shrieking in the wind. “I never knew a Robin so annoying!” he said gleefully. “How delightfully optimistic of you! I’m sure Jason Todd could say those very same words, if his charred remains wasn’t rotting in a grave somewhere!” He glanced in contempt at the unconscious Dick. “I’ve all but broken Dick Grayson! Did you know the little pup came here willingly into my little trap to die!? He damn well knew it!” He didn’t cease his hysterical laughter. He suddenly raised his sleeve and Robin’s vision exploded in flame.

Robin was hurled to the ground. He looked up, blinking, to find Joker towering over him, an ordinary pistol in his hands. “This isn’t some game, kid,” the Joker said, perfectly serious. “This is real life. People fall down. People die. People rot.” He pulled the safety back. “Can anyone really say that optimistic slush again?”

His purple chest suddenly exploded in a shower of sparks. He fell onto his hands and knees with a cry of pain. Robin looked behind him. Laying on the ground was Dick Grayson, electricity dancing along the gun he had. Dick sighed, his face very pale. “Yes, Joker. I can still say it. Even now, I can still say it,” he said quietly. He tried to lift himself, but fell back to the ground with a cry.

Robin rushed over to Dick’s side. “Thanks!” he said.

Dick waved his good hand in dismissal. “Anytime.” He crawled over to Joker’s side.

Robin stood. “You got him pretty good,” he said. “There’s no worries about him waking up anytime soon. It’s over.”

Dick looked down at the Joker. “No,” he said, very quietly. “Not quite.” He reached over and took the gun from the Joker’s limp hand. He pointed it at the Joker’s head.

“What!? What are you doing?” Robin demanded.

“Ending this,” Dick said.

“No,” Robin whispered in horror. “Dick, you’re not a criminal. That’s been proven. Don’t start being one now!”

Dick was silent for a moment. “Joker’s killed a lot of people, Tim, and he’s killed me inside.” He shook his head. “No more. This ends tonight.” He leveled the gun. “He won’t be missed.”

“This isn’t justice! This is revenge!” Robin accused.

Dick looked up with his blue eyes. “Yes,” he admitted. He turned his head back to the Joker.

“Dick!” Batman shouted, startling both of them. It was like he had been there all along! He raised his hand. “Dick....no. Don’t.”

Dick’s head jerked up and he scowled. “Batman, this man has destroyed two years of our lives! Both of our lives! He knows our secret identities!” His voice was as sharp as a whip. “He killed Jason!”

Batman nodded, also looking very tired. “I know, Dick. I haven’t forgotten.”

Dick’s blue eyes stared at Batman in outraged disbelief. “Let me kill him, Batman! What possible reason do you h