trans_9 | Reunion Time - BatFamily Style [Closed]

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Reunion Time - BatFamily Style [Closed]

Nightwing's mind was where most of the security teams' minds were - trying to find Sam Winchester before something bad happened. To either the young man or to the Yeerk.

He took to the rooftops, checking the city streets from above. It was one of the first things that he'd learned from Batman: people don't look up. More than that, he liked being up above it all. It was why his own, personal 'cave' was at the top of his apartment building in Blüdhaven.

Had been, at least.

Shaking his head, Nightwing leaned over the corner of the building he currently crouched atop, checking the intersection below for anything out of the ordinary. "Come on, kid," he muttered, wishing his binoculars had made it to the ship with him. "Can't hide forever..."

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Over on the next rooftop, a shadow moves.

Edited 2009-09-05 22:31 (UTC)

Now that? Dick isn't expecting. Which is silly because anything can happen in this place.

He glances down at the streets again, then backs away before turning to head for the next rooftop. Hey, this is at least something he can actually investigate.

By the time he's hit the asphalt, the shadow has vanished. It can't have gone far...

It actually feels a little familiar, though there's not enough to go on yet. Instead, Dick stills, keeping his breathing soft and shallow as he listens. The one who cast the shadow has to make some noise.

Scant months ago, he could have made this jump with a silence that would put John Cage's 4'33" to shame. But he's been living in a cave -not the one he's used to- and surviving on gamy scraps. As he heaves himself off the precipice and onto the balcony below, the tiniest of exhalations escapes.

He latches onto that sound, taking a moment to zero in on the direction before taking off toward it, looking over the side of the building.

But whoever it is has already hurled himself off the balcony too, and their now discernibly male figure can be seen hurtling into the street. There's the pop of his grapple gun and he swings over to what looks like a tenement building.

Okay, so he knows he's been caught out. Fair cop. Now he's just showing off.

Yep. He certainly is.

Dick narrows his eyes, his own grapple gun coming out so that he can catch up. Because there aren't that many people who would have that sort of equipment and he's got a really good idea as to who it will be.

When Dick arrives his quarry is waiting for him. He's dishevelled and bearded to the point of being almost unrecognisable, but that imposing and silently assured posture is unmistakable.

He greets his pursuer, "I forgot who I was dealing with."

Edited 2009-09-05 23:09 (UTC)

Dick lands easily enough, which just goes to show that one of them hasn't been slacking on the practice. Dick pauses a moment before he smiles. "High praise, considering who it's coming from."

Bruce hadn't taught him everything he knows, but a good amount of it.

"It was one of the first things you taught me," Bruce replies, "A little goes a long way."

Because if he showed his respect more often no one would ever listen to him. At least, so he thinks.

Of course, if he showed his respect more often, the periodic rifts that sprung up between him and Dick would probably never have happened.

Still, Dick smiles at that. "It's good to see you." Really good. Better than he wants to admit. "Though given the way you took to those rooftops, I'm thinking this might not have been your first time?"

It prickled. A lot. He's doing his best not to let it show, though.

"Had them mapped out within days," he replies offhandly.

He knows it hurts Dick to be reminded where his priorities lie, and there is a part of him somewhere deep that knows he didn't have to be like this. That he could shake Dick's hand and return the sentiment. But that part has always been the quiet part, the part that still catatonically kneels beside his parents in that alleyway.

"I had to do it. We don't yet know what we're facing."

Really, Dick wasn't expecting another answer. This is Bruce, after all, and he's always had his own priorities. No use being hurt by it. And even if he is, he buries it. Another thing that Bruce taught him a long time ago.

"Actually, we do. A little, at least." What's not said is that if Bruce hadn't hidden out, he'd know, too. "Right now, we're trapped in this section of the ship, though we're working our way to the Bridge, where some unknown quantity has taken over. In fact, it's partly that threat that we've been woken up to deal with. At least, deal with it first. Stacy is blocking them from knowing anything about us."

"It's those we were brought here with that I'm concerned about," he replies, "Can't you feel it coming?"

He glances back over his shoulder. Not because he thinks it's coming up behind him. Dick's not that dumb. But there's a moment of scanning the other rooftops. "The trial is going to pull the crew apart at the seams," he agrees, tone grim. "I wasn't here when it happened, just been around for the aftermath. That's been bad enough."

Bruce's eyes don't waver from Dick. He's already tried looking for the Winchester boy and he won't be found. Not yet.

"It needs to happen," Bruce affirms, "This crew won't survive by giving one another the benefit of the doubt. They weren't brought here because they were the most inclined to help, but because they were the most capable of providing it."

He considers a moment, "We wouldn't be able to prevent it, in any case. Even if we isolate the threat and safeguard the creature they're all so concerned about, it'll rear it's head again."

The line of Dick's shoulders tightens, just like Bruce had to know it would. Because Dick's the idealist, no matter how bad things in 'Haven had gotten.

Still, he doesn't say anything for a few minutes. Doesn't look at Bruce, either, but he's working his way through what Bruce actually said before snapping back. "If the jury decides to kill it, you know I won't do anything." Just because Dick wouldn't vote that way himself doesn't mean he won't uphold it if that's the verdict that comes down. "But if they decide otherwise, I'm not going to stand by and let people like Winchester take the law into their own hands."

There wasn't going to be another Blockbuster here. He couldn't make that mistake again.

Bruce has not, in fact, even considered the likelihood of Sam getting his mitts on Schmuz. He's perfectly confident Sam'll be stopped. But this wasn't one man versus the state. This was a mob of indescernable number. Who could tell which of them might have a change of heart?

And what really scared him? Tim could be one of them.

"I'm not asking you to let someone die. You know I'd never ask that of you. I'm asking you to help me prove they're better than that. They have to understand that they're wrong."

It isn't like Dick hasn't thought of that himself. It's one of the reasons he's been keeping a fairly close eye on his little brother. And while he can't blame Tim for wanting to, he also trusts Tim to do the right thing in the end.

Dick finally turns back to Bruce, shoulders loosening slightly and already kicking himself. Of course Bruce wouldn't ask that of him. What was he thinking? "You got any ideas how to do it? Because I'm fresh out."

He searches for a sane, let alone practical way of saying 'let them hold the gun, just don't let them point it,' but it won't come.

"Let them fight," he says with more resolution than it really deserves, "Let them see what it's like. The lawmen will put down the rebellion, we need to keep them from harming bystanders."

Part of him knows this is all academic, that his argument only serves to make their job more difficult. But that was sort of the point. And even if Dick is a member of the security team, Bruce doesn't consider him a 'lawman'. Neither of them are.

He half-expects his protegé to tell him to stow it, and for Dick, he would.

Once, Dick probably would have. Today, thankfully, isn't going to be one of those days. Simply because there's too much at stake for him not to consider everything.

"And leave the slug to be caught in the crossfire, if that's what it comes down to?" He mulls this over, tossing it around to see if he thinks it can work. At the end of the day, the bystanders are more important than the slug, sure, but if he can make sure of everybody's safety...

He'd be a far greater man than he actually is. Maybe Superman could do it. Dick? Not so much.

"Concentrate on the bystanders," he agrees after a moment. "But if the jury says stasis for the slug, I'm going to make sure it gets there."

He simply grins, "Just keep your guys from shooting me."

It's one of those weird things where Dick? Just never sees Bruce smiling as a BAD thing. Sure, everybody else thinks it's scary as all get out, but Dick just doesn't.

Instead, he grins back, though it's a bit wan. There's a lot to think about, after all. "Like I'd ever," he finally says, shaking his head.

Bruce moves over to the ledge on looks out on his new city. It was no Gotham. After the time he'd spent away from it, he wanted to hear how it sounds, taste the air. This place was silent and sterile, and at times it felt infinitely more intimidating than Gotham ever did.

"What's your opinion of McGinnis?" Yes, Bruce had heard rumblings. The words McGinnis and Batman frequently cropped up together.

Dick follows, partly because it's easier talking beside Bruce than to his back. And partly to take up his vigil of the streets again. He might not find Winchester, but there might be other things in the city that needed to be watched.

"He's not bad," Dick says after a few moments of thought. "From about forty-five years in the future. Said he was born in twenty thirty-four without any hesitation." Which meant he was either telling the truth or he knew his story well. "Doesn't know about Oracle, though Barbara is the Commissioner in his time. Interested in Tim and Jason."

A pause, then, "Hell on wheels in his suit, but out of it? I think he definitely needs some training."

He's smiling on the inside. Barbara would make a brilliant Commissioner, but didn't she actually have to be on the force first?

Bruce raises an eyebrow, "Suit?"

That had been Dick's thought, too. And he'd answer if Bruce asked.

Instead, he nods. "It's...advanced. It actually flies. I've not seen much of what else it can do in a fight. Carries bolos and smoke bombs. I'd assume most of the rest of the contents of the belts, as well." He shakes his head slowly. "Obviously not used to working as part of a team." A glance to Bruce with a bit of a sardonic smile. "No idea where he'd get that from. But it's a bit of a pain when we have to work together and he does what works for him and ends up getting a team mate hurt."

Thankfully, Stature had been fine.

Uncommunicative and uncooperative? That doesn't sound much like a Bat...

He'd put effort into designing a suit that did more of the work for him before. In the early days of the League, when he was young and they all seemed so strong. Eventually he'd decided the basic design gave him the freedom of movement, the agility he needed far more than he did the flight and resilience augmentations.

Given the time lapse, it sounded like it had been age and not his enemies that had finally gotten the better of him.

"Any idea where he got his hands on it?"

"From you." Which was possibly the biggest shock of all, that Bruce was still alive. "I didn't get the entire story out of him, but someone from Wayne Enterprises killed his father. He found his way into the cave and stole the prototype suit. Instead of handing him over to the Commissioner, his Bruce took him on."

"An alternate reality, then," Bruce replies. Of course he couldn't have done it himself. He's dead, "Think we can trust him?"

Dick doesn't know that, thank you so very much, Bruce. He's just resigned to the fact that Bruce is likely not going to die of old age, no matter what.

He nods. "Alternate reality. He'd never heard of Jason. Something pretty awful happens to Tim, though he won't tell us what." And sometimes it's just easier to think it doesn't happen in his world, though Dick's still going to be vigilant.

A frown before Dick nods again. "I think so. He's young, but he's got a generally good head on his shoulders. Just needs some training." A fair bit of training, honestly. If he wasn't any use in a fight outside the suit, Terry might be more of a liability than an asset.

Hey, don't blame Bruce, blame Darkseid! Trust the Gods to do half-assed work.

"I'm not crazy about having to train another soldier when we're already in the trenches."

More than anything, he's not crazy about the fact that of the Robins, this kid is most like Jason. There was something-- angry about him. But Jason had proved that anger and a lack of training was hardly a winning combination. And if amy of this is true, and if an alternate Bruce really did have something to do with this, then they were already holding that loaded pistol. He couldn't let himself send another boy to their death.

"I'm not crazy but I don't have a choice, do I?"

Dick huffed out a soft laugh and shook his head. "Nope. We don't have a choice at all. It's not just him that needs the training, though. We've got a lot of people here who don't really know how to fight. The command crew is already has training set up, but I'm sure McGinnis would love the extra attention."

And by 'extra attention', Dick meant getting trained by all three of them: Bruce, Dick and Tim.

"He'll probably listen to you and Tim most. I don't think I'm his favorite person in the entire world."

"Someone doesn't like you? That has to be a first." he's clearly enjoing himself just a little bit, "Now you know what it feels like to be me."

Of course, somewhere there's a Dick taking on the cowl who knows exactly what it feels like to be Batman.

"I have yet to get the entire Justice League pissed off at me," Dick noted, almost grinning. No, that hadn't been a good place for any of them, honestly. But it was in the past and Bruce had made amends. As much as could be done, at least. "Anyway, I'm sure there are lots of people out there who don't particularly like me."

He really hoped never to have to find out what it was like to be Batman. Not permanently, at least.

Pissing off the League was practically a career in itself back in the International days. But back then the League included Guy. That last time, though? Yeah, probably his fault.

"It's overrated," he says simply.

Well, not everybody can take even Guy out with one punch. Dick probably could manage two.

Dick snorts and shakes his head. "It works pretty well for me," he points out.

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Reunion Time - BatFamily Style [Closed]

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