Three years later

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          It had been a while since the league-or the team- had seen Nightwing. Missions were duller. People got along less. There was more fighting.
           Eventually, the League decided to temporarily disband the team. Almost all of their missions went wrong. They simply couldn't work together as a team.
           The decision had not gone over well. The team was mad. Who cared if they failed a few missions? If the league was so disappointed, they could do a few of the mission themselves.
             The team, or what was left of it, was in the living room when the tubes started up. They didn't move. It was probably just their mentors coming to yell at them some more
             The Zeta tubes rang out, calling to the team for a long lost friend. Nightwing B01. The team leapt up. Could it really be him?
             Sure enough, there he was. The man himself. He had really come back! But something was wrong.
             He leaned against the wall, looking sick. He held his arm, which was bleeding. His breathing was ragged. His hair was dischiveled.
              Impulse ran over to the hurt man, wanting to help in any way he could. Nightwing smiled. "Hey, Impulse. Long time no see." He joked, his voice rasping. Impulse put one of Nightwing's arms over his shoulder, and directed the man to the infirmary. He was limping slightly.
             The rest of the team was just getting in the room when Impulse was deciding whether or not to carry the man, or keep walking. He had grown stronger over the years.
             The other teammates all wanted to help. But there was only so much they could do. They were still a big team, and Nightwing was only one person.
              Eventually, Impulse had decided to carry Nightwing. He picked up Nightwing and ran. Nightwing was unusually light, even without the added strength.
               After getting Nightwing to the med-bay, Impulse called Dr. Leslie, telling her it was urgent. After a few minutes, the Zeta tubes rang out again, calling Leslie's name out instead. She ran in to see a worried Impulse and an almost unconscious Nightwing.
                 After shooing out Impulse, she put Nightwing under. She didn't want Nightwing to get hurt while she was doing tests because he was tired. She ran tests on the man, unable to ask questions.
                  He had a broken ankle. A stab wound on the upper arm. Severe starvation and dehydration. Multiple bruises. And worst of all was the huge scar running down his back.
                 After making sure Nightwing wasn't in the threat of death, she called Batman. That was complicated.
              After explaining that she had run tests on an injured man, she told him that it was Nightwing. He cut off the call and was in the bay shortly. Leslie left, giving the father and son some space.
               All Batman could do was stare. There was his son. The one he had been searching for for years. The one he thought had died. He was right here.
              He pulled up a chair and sat down. It was all he could do. He trembled slightly as he grabbed Dick's hand. He was warm. A good sign.
               Batman waited for hours. Finally, he heard Nightwing move. He groaned, and opened his eyes. He looked straight at Batman. He looked confused. "Who are you?

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