Story Synopsis: Takes place during Dick’s four-month absence in Chapter Seven. Renegade fights to save his little brother, cousin, and himself—to no avail.
A/N: As always, Erin and Kim rock as betas.
“Miles to Go”
Superman
never looked nervous. Never. Then again, neither did Batman unless, of course,
Robin was hurt badly and never if he had just flesh wound. It unnerved Dick
more than assured him. Chained to a support pole of the Hall of Justice,
Superman hardly broke a sweat, even though the kryptonite rock glowed
venomously in the dark room, casting the only light.
Dick let out a huff and situated
himself on the floor in a cross-legged position, wincing when his own bonds
tugged on his shoulders. He wasn’t comfortable by any means, but he had only
one other option, and he’d already been standing two hours.
Dressed in a simple pair of jeans
and a sweatshirt, Dick growled at his own lack of preparation. When Bruce said
he’d be spending the weekend in Metropolis with Mr.
However, not one of the other
Leaguers showed up, and when Superman was jumped, Dick Grayson, a
thirteen-year-old charity case, could do very little against the Society. It
embarrassed him how little without any Batgear. He had barely landed a kick on
Killer Moth before Ivy wrapped her veins around him. And that was without them
knowing his secret identity.
Now, he was punished to simply sit
and watch Superman die slowly, each drip of sweat upon the man’s forehead another
nail in Dick’s coffin.
How could
“Dick…?” Superman murmured, his
weakened voice clutching Dick’s heart.
Keep
your voice steady. Don’t let him know you’re worried. “Y—Yes, sir?” Damnit.
His high-pitched voice brought a
smirk to Superman’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Yes, sir.”
“…I mean it, Dick. Don’t worry.”
Despite his training, despite his fear
for his identity, Dick whirled toward Superman and let his mouth fly. “
A soft, tired smile contoured his
calming features. “Dick, one of the first things you learn from this membership
is: When you’re in the League, you’re never alone.”
Dick’s eyes
opened without a jump, without the sudden fear of the situation to which he
awoke. He simply was asleep and now wasn’t, laying stomach down on his cot, his
back bare from a fallen blanket. He stared at the stone wall off to the side,
Superman’s words still burning in his mind. Sure enough,
But they weren’t alone because Superman was in the Justice League. Batman had saved him because Bruce was his catcher, and Bruce was always there for him—so he could fly.
Dick glanced toward the door to his room—a strong, prison-type wood structure with golden support—before flipping onto his back. This time, things were different. Bruce didn’t know where he was, and it wasn’t like he wanted to be saved. He had a long way to go before he could let the disease finish him for good.
Sighing, he pushed off his bed, realizing the second cot in the room—Jason’s—was empty. The boy was probably working out again. It was his way to alleviate the frustration. Dick wished it was that easy for him.
He opened the drawer and saw Jason’s gun again.
Not yet.
*^*^*
“I know what you are thinking,” Ra’s contemplated as he paced before Renegade, the ancient man’s fingers knotted in the small his back, his posture straighter than perfect. He barely spared a glance toward his captive audience. “Even now, your altruistic mind is reeling to find a solution to this mission. It is how the Detective raised you.”
“He also raised me to suppress my feelings, but you’ve seen how well that worked,” Renegade replied sharply.
Ra’s stopped moving and peered over his shoulder at the younger man. “You will not succeed.”
“I’m here. What more do you want?”
“Your loyalty.”
Renegade’s eyes narrowed, and his balled hands shook at his thighs. “We made a deal, and I’m keeping it. That’s as close to loyalty as you’re going to get.”
The Demon’s face contorted into a spiteful scowl before his eyes softened, and he stepped forward. His wrinkled hand brushed against Renegade’s cheek; and a chill cast through his body like a ghost. “What did the Detective do to rally such devotion and why, even after his transgressions against you, does he retain it?”
Renegade jerked his face out of Ra’s’s hold and took step back. “I’ll do what you want, Ra’s. You need nothing else.”
“I need an heir,” the man disputed, “and I wonder if I would have been the person to whom you sought comfort, if you would be that man.” Ra’s waved his rejected hand. “However, that is not the situation at hand. You know what needs to be done?”
“Yes.”
“When will it be done?”
“I’m doing research tonight. The task will be completed by the end of the week, but I will need assistance from the Society.”
Ra’s nodded and strode back to his desk. “Then you will have it.”
“I…” Renegade hesitated with a cringe. “They will not trust me again…Master. I’ve betrayed them once already.”
“Then I suggest you watch your back.”
“I suggest the same of you, Master,” Renegade said with a bow and headed toward to the door. “You are dealing with the most villainous men and women this world has to offer.”
“Perhaps,” Ra’s pondered with a vicious sneer, “but whom do you believe to be the greatest?”
That was what worried Renegade as he left Ra’s’s office and treaded toward his own quarters once more. There was no doubt that Ra’s was in over his head—no one in his right mind would trust the lot of these villains, but then again, no cape in his right mind would try to infiltrate them—again. He was signing his death warrant, but Ra’s signed his own long ago.
Renegade sighed. Maybe this would make up for the hundreds of thousands of people who died because of him.
He shook the thought from his mind as he entered his quarters. He couldn’t go there now. He couldn’t be distracted by guilt and heartache. Later, maybe…
The feeling lightened after a few moments, and his eyes snapped to the corner. He grabbed the dagger in his trench coat and drew it as the person floated out of the shadows and raised his hands.
“Dude, you don’t want to bend your daggers.”
Renegade deflated at the sight of the boy in jeans and a T-shirt and swiped off his mask. “Kon-El, don’t do that. Batboys don’t take well to sneakers. That’s our job.”
“Sorry, I just…Black Adam told me what we’re doing. I…” He raked a hand through his hair and dropped to his feet in front of Renegade. “Dick, I can’t do that. I can’t steal anymore. I just—I won’t—”
“Shh…I know…” Renegade put his hands on both Kon-El’s shoulders and frowned. “...and if Superman would just have gone into Silo Three, you wouldn’t be here now. But trust me, okay? It’s all going to be over soon.”
“But more nukes!” the boy shrilled and tore away from Renegade’s hold. “Do you have any idea what they can do with them?”
“Worse, I know what they want to do with them.”
“Then we have to—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Renegade shook his head. “You won’t get very far or be alive very long with the heavyweights of the Society out there. What you have to do is trust me, all right?”
Kon-El crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s what you said before.”
“And I meant it. Look, even if you could leave right now, you wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving that nuke in the hands of Ra’s al Ghul.”
“But I won’t feel comfortable leaving four either.”
*^*^*
Renegade leaned his elbows upon the door of the refrigerator. Huh. Cold pizza or cold lo mein? So many gourmet choices. He unwrapped the pizza’s tin foil to find Chicago-style pizza and decided on the lo mein after all. Wally would probably be pissed later, but if he wanted it for after his monitor duty shift, then he should have put his name on it. Oh, he did—scribbled it across the side in what looked like red ink. Nope—crayon. Oh, well. It wasn’t like Wally hadn’t stolen any of his food before.
Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, Renegade bumped it shut with his hip and walked out into the empty corridor of the JLA satellite. It was almost midnight Eastern Standard Time, and not many members would still be awake, let alone in the satellite. He meandered through the maze of clear corridors, still marveled by the beautiful of the heavens. Chewing Wally’s lo mein absently, he opened the door to the monitor womb with a simple press. Apparently, the JLA had yet to take him off the active roster.
Mistake, Bruce. Big mistake.
The room
was silent except for the Flash, who sat with his feet crossed on the console,
watching the Earth spin under the satellite. “Hey
He looked in the reflection of the glass and gasped at the Renegade’s appearance.
“Sorry,” was the only word Renegade uttered before chopping Flash over the shoulder. His best friend toppled over the arm of the chair and tumbled to the floor, landing lifelessly. Renegade sighed and placed his open lo mein container on the console before bending down to tie the Flash’s arms and legs together. Then, he pulled down Flash’s cowl to place a small device in the man’s ear to keep the speedster off balance. He couldn’t run and he couldn’t vibrate without getting a hold of his own body’s facilities first.
Renegade hated doing this, hated hurting his friends, but under the circumstances, he needed to. Wally would understand. Hopefully. Maybe. Okay, maybe never, but still…
Plopping
down into the chair, Renegade hitched one leg up and began to search for the
location of missile silos in
He was halfway through the lo mein before the door opened, and he glanced at the person’s identity in the reflection of the monitor.
“What are you doing here?”
Talia al Ghul sauntered to his side and pushed backwards onto the console near his legs, crossing her own. “My father fears mutiny, and he knows that I am the only one who can defeat you.”
Renegade snorted. “No offense, Talia, but I can beat you hand-to-hand.”
“Perhaps, but you fear the Detective’s anger if any hurt were to come the mother of his only child.”
Ouch. Renegade cocked his head to the side to eye her before redirecting his gaze to the screen. “Your…My master has nothing to fear from me. I will do what I promised to.”
God, he hated calling Ra’s that.
“But you know as well as I do even now you seek a way to aid Bruce or at least alert him of my father’s plan.”
Renegade swiveled in his seat to glare directly into her eyes. “What do you want from me, Talia? I’ll do my job like I said I would. I’ll go against everything Bruce ever taught me. I’ll take your verbal abuse, and I’ll even do it all with a smile upon my face. There’s not much more you can ask of me.”
Her fair face hinted upward with a smirk. “Father wishes you would call him your father as well.”
“He is not my father.”
“That does not stop you from
calling Bruce such.”
“Why does it matter?” Renegade scowled and forsook his lo mein to the trash can under the console. “In a few weeks, I’m going to be a circus orphan again, and Ra’s will most likely be my dictator.”
Renegade never saw Talia reach out with his head turned in the opposite direction, and if he still had heat vision, the metal console would have melted. Her gentle hand cradled his chin, and its back petted his cheek before her hand dropped to his. Less than a moment later, a hard metal object was forced into his palm, and he knew what it was even before looking at it. He’d had already memorized the curvature of its cassis and the ease of the trigger against his hand.
“Where did you get this?” he demanded, finally glaring down at the gun.
Talia shrugged and placed her lithe hand upon his forearm. “Don’t you see? My father is testing you, Richard, and soon, the ultimate test of trust will be delivered. He will finally know if you are the one.”
“The one?” Get it out of my hand. Get it out.
“My father has always wanted an heir, and he now knows that person will not be my mate.”
Renegade raised his eyes toward her. “I will never be his son.”
“I wonder if you say the same thing when my beloved is not there to catch you.” She patted his hand and leaned forward to kiss forehead. “Like he was not there for you that night he brought this.”
A soft moan broke the tense silence, and though Talia slapped Wally across the face, Renegade flinched.
Talia’s high heels clicked in a distance; she stopped just short of the open doors.
“And Richard, what I desire almost more than anything is a brother. Hopefully, I will get my wish shortly.”
Long after she left, Renegade sat in the chair, paralyzed by the gun in his hand. After what seemed like an eternity, he opened the barrel and saw the bullets still waiting to sink into his flesh.
*^*^*
The shadows were comforting. They cradled his presence, kept him safe and hidden from the world. Even though he lived currently lived in the darkness with Ra’s al Ghul, the shadows would always belong to Bruce and his world.
Renegade waited until the Russian soldiers passed before leaving his temporary sanctuary and heading down the underground corridor. Russian military bases and their missile silos appeared more like Ra’s’s headquarters than Renegade would have liked, though the walls were metal and the doors reinforced. Before him, a large door—ten feet tall and ten feet across—closed him off from his goal.
Ducking behind a crook in the wall, he hid once more in the shadows and pressed his forefinger to his ear. “Calculator, you on the line?”
“You should be happy I’m taking your call at all, Renegade,” the condescending voice sniveled. “You already betrayed us once.”
“Same name, different person.”
“Oh, please. I’m sure Batman had to change his face for when he dropped the cowl. No doubt you did, too—Nightwing.”
Renegade rolled his eyes and slammed his head back against the wall. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Only because I’m getting paid to and pretty heavily…Richard.”
He hated when the villains did that. It felt like they violated him, which was probably their purpose. “Whatever. I have cameras here. Can you defuse them?”
“They’re not bombs and maybe if the Russians weren’t so stone-age. You’re on your own.”
“Then what good are you? Oracle could have this done in ten seconds flat.”
“Please. She’s overrated.”
She wasn’t, Renegade knew, and damned if he didn’t miss her.
“If you can get me a receiver on the device, I can hack. Without a line, not even Superman can save your hind.”
Growling, Renegade saw the two cameras pointing toward the door and studied their range. Thirty seconds apiece with a five-second timeframe for Renegade to act. He would have to time it perfectly for it to work. Ah, Batman gave him worse situations in the cave’s simulator.
Taking a deep breath, he waited until the opportunity came and jumped into the middle of the aisle.
One.
He vaulted into the air.
Two.
He somersaulted forward.
Three.
He landed just before the doorway.
Four.
His momentum pitched his body forward.
Five.
He slammed his back into the door and breathed. He’d reached the blind spot of the cameras and would be safe for only a few moments, depending on the rotation of the soldiers. With no time to waste, he dug into his compartments and took out two mini receivers, throwing each one on each camera.
“All right, Calculator. You’re on.”
“…Done. Do you have any other menial jobs for me today?”
“No way you
would beam me some hotdogs from
“Do I sound like a take-out place to you?”
“No, they have service with a smile.” Renegade walked over to the keypad and wiggled his knife in between the cracks to tear it open.
“Oh, I’ll smile all right—when I’m dancing on your grave.”
Red wire to green; blue to orange. “If I help to get rid of all the heroes, you’ll want to kiss me.”
“Not your ass, though I hear it’s attractive. The Femme Fatals rate it as number one among heroes.”
The door swished open, and Renegade pressed his back against the wall, albeit no shadows were there to hide him. “They have polls for things like that?”
“You’re only number three on the overall hottest list.”
Renegade started. “Number three? Who’s higher than me?”
“Green Arrow the Second.”
“The one people think is gay? He’s number one?”
“Number two. Apparently being unavailable boosts your hot rating, but threat of death knocks you down. You were actually ten until it came out you’re the Wayne Heir, and the money seemed more important than their own lives.”
“What ‘threat of death’ is there?”
“Hello. You don’t need to be a genius to know you don’t do the Bat’s kid. You hear what he did to Deathstroke for kidnapping you? Almost bled the guy to death. No one wanted that to happen to them—guy or girl.”
Renegade sighed. Bruce almost killed someone for him. He should have realized that would happen. After Jason…well, of course Bruce would have gone over the edge, except thankfully his father’s friends reeled him in this time.
Firming his resolve for the mission—the true mission, not this garbage of a back-up plan—Renegade entered the main silo. He walked along the platform that stood about sixty feet off the ground and halfway up the first missile’s body. It overlooked the main work area on the ground where the various scientists and soldiers toiled over programming of the missile of the protecting of said weapon.
Renegade glanced down at the small glass enclosure near the ground where the switchboard was. No doubt that was more than simple glass and no doubt there was more than one guard on duty.
“Just curious,” Renegade whispered as he ducked behind some crates and glanced about for the spark plug box. He found it a fourth of the way about the room and easily entered with a flick of a knife. “But who’s number one on that hot list?”
Calculator snorted. “Batman.”
Renegade shook his head. Life just wasn’t fair. “Okay, I’m setting the pulse now. Synchronizing time: twenty-five seconds to teleportation field black-out.”
“Alerting selected Society members.”
“Twenty seconds.”
“Ready for teleportation.”
“Ten seconds.”
“You know, if you would just cut your hair, I think you could be number two.”
“Five seconds.”
“And if you were really gay, not what that reporter said, you could make number one.”
“One!”
A sizzle, then a zap sounded from the spark plug box as the entire grid of the Russian base overloaded, and complete darkness flooded the silos except for the faint glimmering of teleportation energy.
*^*^*
“Hey,
everyone!” Hawkgirl yelled into her comm. unit. “I don’t know if this begs for
an all-call alert, but a Russian teleportation field just went down in
Batman’s voice crackled over the airwaves a moment later. “We have less than two minutes before they leave.”
“How do you—”
“Call for all available personnel to meet there—NOW!”
*^*^*
Renegade hit on his night vision lens and watched as Black Adam tore through the cables and supports to free the first missile.
He pulled back his sleeve to see his watch. “Only a minute-thirty left before reboot. Little S, how are you doing?”
Only a moment of delay sounded before the boy huffed, “Almost done with the supports.”
“Parademon?”
“Don’t rush me.”
“You want to be greeted by the JLA? Be my guest, but I won’t join you.”
“…getting there.”
Renegade rolled his eyes and looked toward the heavens. This was why he hated working with super villains. They sometimes weren’t so super. “A minute!”
Clamping boots upon metal drew Renegade to the edge of the platform once more, and he leaned over the railing to see the twenty or so soldiers rushing to engage Black Adam. They stopped and took position to shoot, and even though they wouldn’t succeed in killing the magically enhanced men, Cheetah engaged. Even worst, as she disarmed them rather than kill them—small miracles—a bright, white light blinded the entire area, consuming the darkness. Renegade cursed as he hit off his night vision lens and vaulted off the platform toward its source. Ra’s had to take everyone in the Secret Society, didn’t he? He couldn’t have left one person out—one damn person.
As the light grew to the point he could no longer look at it, Renegade leapt in the air and threw a single batarang. It must have hit something because a curse rang through the silo, and light faded.
The Russian soldier who would have been the victim of the attack scurried off, his hands slapped across his face. Renegade landed on the platform next to Dr. Light, a smirk upon his own face. He hadn’t meant to hit the man in a certain lower region, but he took it nonetheless.
“Thirty seconds!” he yelled into his comm. unit before glaring down at the villain. “No killing. Not on my watch.”
“And I have just proven that you are nothing more than a plant once more, Nightwing.” Light rose awkwardly to his feet and sauntered with a furious deranged expression on his face. “You are still a hero, one I will enjoy destroying.”
“You won’t get the chance, and you’re wrong,” Renegade spat, watching Light’s body for any hint of an attack. None was evident. “I am on your side now, whether I want to be or not.”
Light grinned to himself and ran the back of his hand down Renegade’s cheek, followed the curve of the boy’s chin and slide his cold fingers onto Renegade’s neck. The younger man only saved himself from shivering by the Kevlar suit.
“Know that the only reason I’m not breaking you now is because I want the Bat there to see it. After all—” He slashed downward, slicing through the device on Renegade’s wrist before slapping the younger man on the lower back. “—I hear it’s number one.”
In a flash of teleporter energy, he disappeared.
“Five seconds,” Calculator informed, and Black Adam followed with the missile in tow, while Cheetah fled as well.
“Two…”
Renegade cursed the pieces of his teleporter as they fell upon the floor, and a second wave of blue light glimmered in the darkness. He cursed even louder when the lights clicked back on along with the teleportation shield.
Damn.
*^*^*
“What happened here?” Wonder Woman asked, vocalizing the five Leaguers’ unspoken question.
Batman grunted and bent down to grace his fingers across the torn supports of the missile base. “We’re too late. The Society has taken the nuclear weapons.”
“The Society?” Flash echoed. “Who in their legion could be bright enough to have concocted a plan of this magnitude?”
“It’s not just the Society, is it, Batman?” Superman bemoaned.
“Looks like they pulsed this place—literarily.” Red Arrow began toward the spark box when the doors to the silo opened once more and in rushed Russian soldiers, this time with missile launches and bazookas. The newer member of the League immediately took a step back and put up his hands at the loud orders from the soldiers. “Oh-kay…anyone know Russian here?”
“It was a set-up,” Batman realized and looked toward the untouched console of the rockets. “We were supposed to come here to be placed at the scene of the crime.”
“Wha…?” Flash looked toward him, even as the Russian soldiers pointed their weapons at them and dashed forward to restrain him and Red Arrow before moving toward Batman. “Who could have possibly set this up?”
Batman narrowed his eyes at the black-coated figure in the glass’s reflection, the person standing upon a higher platform, his familiar dark blue eyes condemning, his facial expression grim. Batman stood frozen in the intense emotions flowing from Renegade, the unspoken question understood.
How
could you?
Batman’s patience snapped, and he whirled—only for the figure to be gone.
*^*^*
There was nothing like a good plan coming to together, even if he almost was caught by Batman. Even if the Justice League would be taken into custody and questioned. Even if it was just one more step toward world domination for Ra’s.
God, what the hell was he doing?
Leaning against the enclave of the wall, Dick watched the Antarctic breeze twirl along the mountain peaks. Dick fisted his hand in his raven locks and shook his head. His trench coat, turtleneck sweater, and jeans didn’t keep the cold from seeping through his warm skin, but he needed air—fresh air. He needed to free himself from that dreaded suit.
He needed to runaway, at least for a moment. If only for a moment.
“Dick? You out here?”
Dick glanced over his shoulder to see Kon-El walk onto the small patio-like notch and hover a few feet in the air.
“You said if I ever had any, y’know, that maybe I could—”
Dick forced a smile to cross his features and motioned toward space next to him. “Come on over, Little S. I could use some company myself.”
Kon-El listened and wrapped his own jacket about his shoulders to overlook the ice caverns and mountains in a distance, himself sitting on the very edge of one such mountain, a few thousand feet drop before him and Dick.
“You Batboys really don’t have any fear of heights, do you?”
Dick shrugged. “Born on a high wire, kiddo. So…that one about Luthor again, huh?”
Kon-El sighed and dropped his forehead to his knees to hide the tears. “…I killed him. I couldn’t control my powers. It—It was like—” He pulled his legs closers to his chest. “Kal told me not to kill.”
“And you didn’t,” Dick insisted, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Luthor already had given his soul for yours. Kon, listen to me, all right? Really listen. What happened wasn’t your fault. Ra’s has a way of manipulating people and their powers, and the Lazarus Pit helped him do it to you. There was no way you could have had control of your facilities when you got out. The only thing you did was maybe put Luthor into Hell a little earlier. You did him a favor, one he didn’t deserve.”
“I…I wish Kal would see it your way.”
“He will, even if I have to make him,” Dick replied with a brighter than usual grin, “and don’t forget. Kal has a special place in his heart for his nephews, okay?”
“But Dick… as much as I hate to admit it, Luthor was kinda my dad, and I—I was the one who—”
“So? Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader had similar issues. Your point?”
“Dick!”
Dick sighed and rubbed his reddening cheeks. “Look, Bruce called me his son, and he tried to kill me. Not every relationship is perfect, and you can’t pick your family.”
“Bruce chose you—”
“He chose a partner and got a son.”
“—but Luthor just made me to destroy Superman.”
“Look, Luthor went about the wrong way, okay?” Dick said and drew Kon-El closer to his body to let the boy feel his heat and to steal some for himself. “And so did Bruce, but they were both our fathers, and in his own twisted and sick way, I think Luthor wanted what was best for you. He wanted you to live even if he couldn’t live with you. You couldn’t ask for a better gift. Just like Bruce tried to kill me to save me, though I personally would have liked a Ferrari , but I just might be picky.”
Kon-El turned to see Dick straight on. “You can’t be serious about anything, can you?”
“Not when my little cousin is having a nervous breakdown over something that wasn’t his fault.” Dick sighed and looked out into the distance. “You just have to keep looking ahead, Conner. We’re going to get out of this, and once we do, ours father are going to see we had to do what we did to survive.”
Kon-El snorted. “You still think we’re getting out of this, don’t you?”
Dick slapped him on the shoulder. “Of course we’re going out of this. Batboys never say die, all right? Now, why don’t you head inside, and I’ll follow you in a few minutes, okay?”
With a relieved sigh, Kon-El nodded and floated back inside, never seeing the grin fall into a demoralizing frown. Get out of this? Yeah, he’d get Kon-El out of it. Himself? That was another problem.
“You know, some Batboys say ‘die.’”
Dick rolled his eyes and didn’t look behind him. “Did it ever occur to anyone that I came up here to be by myself?”
Jason smirked as he sat cross-legged next to Dick. “Nah. Can’t have my big brother having a nervous breakdown over something that’s not his fault.”
“You are a pain in the ass, Jase. You know that?”
“Every day.”
That drew the proverbial snort from Dick. “You ever feel like the entire world is crumbling down on your shoulders, and I—I never do what I want without the fear of it teetering off balance.”
“And just what do you want to do?”
“Give up.”
“ ‘Dad’ wouldn’t approve.”
“Dad never approves of what I want to do. He didn’t want me to join the Titans, didn’t want me to quit college, didn’t want me to join the police force, didn’t want me to marry Kory.”
“Dude, when you put it that way, I sound like the good son.”
A comfortable silence engulfed the two before Jason finally dared to break it.
“It scares you, doesn’t it? That you can’t think of way to save him.”
“No. I know how I will save him. You, too.” He stole a glimpse of the starry sky before he closed his eyes. “I just don’t know how I will save myself.”
“From what?”
Dick felt the smoothness of the trigger in his hand, the gun and appendage hidden in his trench coat. “Jase, can I have a few moments alone? Please.”
Jason shrugged. “All right, but if Little S comes looking for me, I’m sending him out here.”
Dick smiled sadly. “Deal.”
Once Jason left, Dick pulled the gun from his trench coat and flipped it in his hand. “You need a brother, and I’m going to need a catcher.”
“A catcher?” she asked.
“A catcher,” he confirmed. “A person whom you trust unconditionally, whom you know will always be there for you…You think we can make it work?”
A soft hand came to clamp over the trigger, and Talia al Ghul allowed a tender smile to cross her features. “It will work, brother. That I promise you.”
To Be Continued in Chapter Eight…
A/N: Last interlude story! XD!