[b][u][i]Two Weeks Earlier[/i][/u][/b]


	The steady hum and occasional beep of medical equipment were the only sounds present in the small ICU room when Dick entered. The nurse who’d led him there gave him a sad understanding look, before turning away. Still wearing his police service blues Dick eased the door closed leaving the occupants a modicum of privacy. Besides the newest arrival three others filled the rooms small interior. The foremost and only conscious one among them, was a tall balding butler who approached Dick at once, grasping the younger man by his shoulders. Alfred Pennyworth, Wayne Manor’s sole servant, for once in his life seemed worse for wear. His normally pristine uniform and graying hair were disheveled, and dark bags under his eyes signified a lack of sleep. Normally the Englishman’s sense of propriety would demand a certain level of professionalism, but he did not resist when Dick wrapped him in a heartfelt embrace.

	“Sorry it took so long for me to arrive Alfred, everything’s gotten worse, even in Bludhaven.” Dick reported, releasing the butler. It was a mess out there, and the PD departments were shouldering the increased burden. Perhaps emboldened by the sudden and heavy losses the JLA were reporting, criminals were slithering out from every dark corner imaginable less then fourteen hours after the incident and destabilizing the already shaken cities. Officer Grayson having worked an extended shift found himself called upon yet again, and again until he finally received permission call it a night. Instead of collapsing into bed, however much his exhausted body begged for the release of sleep he powered through. Dick made straight away for the Gotham Memorial Hospital where his former guardian Bruce Wayne had been admitted hours earlier after a particularly nasty vehicular accident. A mostly true story, but Dick knew the full truth. He, and half the world watched live as the Batmobile was folded like paper beneath the monster Doomsday’s hands, witnessing in horror as the Batman’s broken body was dragged away from the wreckage and disappeared back to the Justice League’s secret headquarters. “How’s he holding up?”

	Despite having called ahead earlier, Dick did not have the time to get a full diagnosis over the phone. Deciding instead to come see for himself after being assured Bruce was alive and stable. Alfred led him over to the bedside, where Bruce lay comatose. Tubes and bandages enshrouded the billionaire’s body, and an oxygen mask obscured his face. If it were not for the steady ECG it would have be easy to assume his surrogate father had already died. Taking one of Bruce’s lifeless hands in his own Dick fought back the tears that threatened to fall, only half listening as Alfred spoke.

	“…He entered a coma in route and has been unresponsive since. Whether there will be permanent damage remains to be seen.” The list of internal injuries, possible brain trauma, and irreparable spinal damage went on and on, it seemed Alfred had already memorized the lot, no doubt tortured by the condition his eldest charge was in.

	“And Tim?” Dick indicated the youngest occupant in the room. The thirteen-year-old ward, sleeping fitfully in the corner chair. Alfred had draped blanket over him to apply some level of comfort, and Dick could see tiny streaks dirtying the child’s face from where he had cried himself to sleep. The newest member of their strange little family would no doubt be taking things hard. Two parents, one biological and one surrogate lost in less than a year.

	“He’s been remarkably strong despite the circumstance. He was trying to stay awake until you arrived but considering the hour...” The Englishman checked his watch. “I would say he made a good effort, nonetheless. Should I wake the young master Drake?”

	“No, let him sleep.” Dick decided after a moment. He would’ve liked to talk to his little brother, but there would be plenty of time for a long conversation another time. “He’ll need plenty of rest for what comes next.”

	Alfred’s face fell, such words were unwelcome in this trying time when one of his charges were already devastatingly injured. “If you pardon my asking sir, what does come next?” [i]Please do not say you intend to continue mission fight Master Wayne leaves in his absence. [/i] Alfred begged silently. [i]I can hardly stand him being so broken, if you were to join him in such suffering, or young Timothy… I simply do not want to imagine such things.[/i]

	Knowing the butler would disapprove Dick hesitated, wishing he could promise they would be safe, and no harm would befall them. But he could not hope to keep it, not with absolute certainty. “The fight goes on. Gotham needs its protectors. I cannot allow Robin to face these streets on his own, he is too inexperienced.”

	“Are you sure master Grayson.” The Englishman pressed, squeezing the young man’s shoulder. “I know you have trepidations operating in the open and did your utmost to remain an unknown figure in Bludhaven. Defending Gotham full time, it would mean the world will be made aware about Nightwing, and no doubt who you were before. Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?” The words were familiar, all too familiar to those distant days’ eleven years ago when the first Robin joined Batman on the streets of Gotham. Alfred recalled asking if Dick was certain that his desire to fight alongside the caped crusader was indeed his own decision, and not pressed upon him.

	Dick remembered that conversation as well and steeled himself up for the challenges that would come once he repeated his decision tonight. “It’s not what I want, but sometimes what we want, and what is required are two separate things. Maybe I can work around these limitations, maybe not. Nevertheless the mission goes on, and if not me, who?”

	A defeated sigh escaped the butler and Dick felt him step away. He kept his eyes locked on Bruce’s face, a mixture of anger, fear, and doubt stirring in his gut. [i]I will not let you down Bruce. I will keep Gotham safe for you. I promise. [/i]

   
  

[b][i][u]Present Day[/u][/i][/b]
    
  


	Dick glanced up from the file he had been reviewing. Something flashed on the computer screen begging to be noticed. A JLA request, Dick’s eyebrow rose. Why would the Justice League, newly branded the Supermen of America be sending a gathering notice to the Batcave? He was not a member, and neither were Robin or Oracle meaning the call must have been a mistake. Maybe they forgot to delete Batman’s contact information, he joked to himself hitting delete on his keyboard silencing the droning alarm. Bruce Wayne remained coma locked in Gotham Memorial, with no change to his condition, meanwhile the remainder of Gotham’s guardians fought tooth and nail just to protect their own city.

	“What’s that?” Tim asked from the uneven bars, halting his routine mid swing.

	“Nothing, probably a mistake by the JLA.” Dick waved the question away, refocusing on the paper document laid out before him, his brow furrowing in frustration. This case simply did not make sense. Two separate kidnappings, occurring almost simultaneously. The victims were a fourteen-year-old boy, and the other a ten-year-old girl. Both from affluent families, but now nearly a week later and no sign of either the children or a demand for ransom. They would not have been easy scores either, the boy even had a bodyguard who was found murdered on the scene which meant they were being targeted specifically. Dick thumbed through the gathered evidence, depressingly little though there was. Maybe the police could find a connection that he hadn’t noticed, but that would mean speaking to Commissioner Gordan, something Dick had been trying to put off for as long as possible. He was living with a foot in both worlds, or at least trying to. Maintaining his anonymity while protecting Gotham proved difficult, fighting from the shadows alone could not be accomplish forever. Eventually he would have to step into the light, and a meeting with Gordan seemed to be the catalyst for that next step. Already reports were spreading that Batman himself was back, and Nightwing was happy to allow those rumors to continue.

	The tone sounded again, jerking him from his thoughts. “What the hell…?” The JLA were trying to contact the cave again? Curious this time Dick slipped on his mask and accepted the summons, Robin joining him at his side.

	“Nightwing, Robin!” A relived face flickered into existence on the screen, his gaze switching between the two masked vigilantes. “I was worried you were unavailable after you declined my first call.”

	“You were intending to contact the cave?” Nightwing asked, incredulous.

	“I intended to contact you.” Black Lightning answered smoothly.

	A moment of silence hung between the two of them, before Nightwing shook his head. “I already gave you my answer, I have no intention of joining the Superme-“

	Black Lightning raised his gauntleted hand, silencing further protest. “No, not about that. My invitation remains, but this is more of a temporary arrangement. We’re spread too thin, and we are in desperate need of reinforcements.”

	Beneath the white lenses Nightwing’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Its broad daylight, Lightning you know I can’t.”

	“People are dying!” Came the passionate response. “I don’t care about your sensibilities right now, you need to get over it, and come help!” When no response was forthcoming from the stunned vigilante Black Lightning pressed on. “Get your gear and head for Central City, Gorilla Grodd is there, and as far as we know there are several League and civilian casualties. Black Lightning out.”

	The computer screen went blank leaving Nightwing and Robin staring at where it had gone out, as if in a trance.

	“So,” Robin said, breaking the spell. “Are we going?”

	“[i]We[/i] aren’t going anywhere. You’re staying here and working on the kidnapping case.” Nightwing corrected. “Don’t go out on patrol or attempt any field work. Oh, and let Alfred know where I’ve gone.”

	Robin’s face fell. “What, wait why can’t I go? They need the manpower, Black Lightning said so.”

	“Because I said no.” The masked hero punched in the final coordinates for the cave’s Zeta gate to reach Central City. Grimacing, he remembered how annoying Batman’s callous and unhelpful explanations for leaving him behind had always been. Tim deserved a better excuse that a barked no. “Also, there is no need to risk more exposure than necessary, I could probably get away with making an appearance. If people see Robin at my side though, the whole gig is over.” He left out that the inexperienced Robin might be more of a liability in the battle than a boon anyway. Considering who they were facing. As the lights around him grew, he cast one last glance over his shoulder as Robin’s disappointed face vanished from sight.