The Birds of Prey: Nightwing (Batman Fanfic)

Chapter 4: Arrow

Taking huge creative licence, using the games, movies, TV shows and comics to make my own universe. So no complaining please <3

*

Bruce stands behind me, tall and brooding. He is wearing his suit without his cowl, black grease pain smudged around his eyes. His hand rests heavily on my shoulder and with that I could feel all of his grief and anger channel through me. Just through one touch. I still feel like he blames me for what happened to Richard Grayson.

He has been gone for one month and seventeen days now. With every second, minute, hour that passes, I lose more and more hope.

"I am going to travel to Star City, we need help." He grumbles.

"Star City? Why? Do you want to involve Oliver Queen in all of this.I know you contacted him before but you said that you would not involve him. You know our history." I say, slightly astonished.

"I trust him. I helped train him. He owes me a favour." He says, removing his hand from y shoulder and turning away.

I wheel my wheelchair around, to look at him. His head in his hands, his hair is slicked back with gel to keep it manageable when he wars his cowl.

"I do not trust him." I state flatly.

"And I do not care. This is not some game. We are playing with life and death, here. The joker has disappeared off the radar. No attacks in over a month. Does that sound very familiar to you?" He shouts.

"You need to calm down. Get some sleep, eat, think more clearly. And then we'll talk." I say, cocking my head to the side and looking him in the eye.

He does not say anything but simply unhooks his grappling hook that is attached to his utility belt, he aims it towards the peak of the clock tower. His eyes are still locked with mine as he in engulfed by darkness.

My arms burn as I push myself towards the window that looks down over the city, a birds eye view of Gotham. I can see it in all of its glory.

Deep smog weighs heavy on the horizon, occasionally parting to reveal the stars that are scattered like freckles across the inky night sky. Some clouds descend into the gloomy streets of Gotham, dense and heavy, fanning out and dispersing like snakes winding through the bottom of the skyscrapers. The spires from the tops of the skyscrapers begin to slice its way, up and through the heavy fog. The fog spills heavy, across the edges. Falling like water spilling over the edge of a bath tub. The polluted smog is illuminated by the iridescent full moon. The moon seems impossibly large, magnified by the contaminated air. I can see every single crater etched onto its magnified face.

My hands press against the glass, the coldness splintering into my hand. I jump back, startled by the sudden movement from above. Bruce must have dived from the top of the clock tower, his silhouette is dark and juxtaposed to the moonlight that is streaming in behind him. Sending dark shadows into the room. He disappears from my view just as quickly as he had appeared. He dives down and then arches up, fast and silent. He was like quick silver, yet obsidian and powerful.

I never get tired of watching him. A pang of jealousy tugs at my heart and stings the corner of my eyes. He spreads his arms and his cape catches the wind, allowing him to glide gracefully to the wind occasionally using his grappling hook to provide him with the appropriate speed.

I sigh and wheel myself around, facing away from the window.

*

We have just made it to Star city, to meet Oliver Queen. Playboy billionaire, much like Bruce's persona. I take a glance at Bruce out of the corner of my eye as we speed through the glades of Star city as Alfred drives the Roles Royce. He does not look happy at all, as he stairs out of the window.