Chapter Four

Zatanna stared with absolute confusion at her phone. She’d been on an off-world League mission for months now, as the resident magical specialist…or at least, the reliable one. Constantine was technically around too, but, well, nobody expected him to actually answer the phone if shit hit the fan. Fortunately, most of the problems the League faced didn’t require magical expertise, so she rarely had calls to action. Unfortunately, that meant she spent most of her time bickering with Circe on ‘busy’ days, and wishing she had any kind of a love life or even just a few more friends on most of the days.

This time though, when she arrived back to Earth’s part of space and checked her phone for what she’d missed, she had found roughly twenty missed messages from Dick, unexpectedly. That was concerning enough on it’s own, considering he hadn’t tried to speak to her outside of casual greetings and special occasions in almost five years. What was more concerning, however, was the fact that, of those twenty, three were well-wishes for her safe travel, two were an apology for bothering her, and the rest had been deleted. She hadn’t even made it out of the Watchtower before stopping and staring at the little black brick.

In all the time she had known the acrobat, he hadn’t hidden any part of himself. Not a one, no matter how much it hurt or what it cost him. Even his secret identity, he had revealed to her once he felt she was trustworthy. Which begged the question; What in the world had made him feel he couldn’t let her see what he had sent to her?

A thought briefly flickered through her mind, that it could have been many messages confessing how much he missed her, and how he regretted not taking more bold action when they were younger, and- She cut that thought off swiftly, before she ruined her leotard. That was sheer hopeful fantasy. The reality was likely far more mundane. Some embarrassing emergency he had solved, or maybe… whatever.

It didn’t matter, truly. It was Nightwing. He had the whole Batfamily behind him, not to mention the Titans and other ex-Young Justice members. What could possibly be threatening him?

She shook her head slightly with a wry, defeated smile and sent off a short text asking him if there was anything she could help him with, and then moved on. He’d be fine.

—

Jesus fuck on a bicycle, Nightwing was not fine. Harley was starting to feel genuinely spooked when she saw him. She'd managed to follow him twice so far without notice. All the other nights the past couple weeks, he'd managed to throw her off. Tonight was the second, and she didn't like what she saw. Nuh-uh. Not even a bit.

He was fighting savage- Not the guy. Nah, bird-brain was kicking ass like he just didn't care about any consequences. She was fine with fighting crazy-like, hell, she was the original for doing it. But Nighty wasn't doing like she did. He took more hits than he needed to, he kicked ass that coulda just been cuffed- the only thing that told Harley the guy hadn't lost his mind was that she could tell he still held back from hurting anyone more than necessary.

Still, it was freaky, and she wasn't enjoying it. She just…didn't know what to do. Did she go to Bat-brain? Or any of the other little batlings? They were on the outs, apparently, and she didn't know why. Maybe she could call in Ivy to lend a hand, and see if he'd talk more when there was less to do? Ivy ain't discreet though. She could try talking-

“Penny for your thoughts there Quinn? Or is it Quinzel?”

She jolted halfway out her skin when the voice sounded behind her, having zoned out so much she didn't notice him moving. Damn that smirk though. He knew how much he'd caught her off guard.

She cocked a hip and put her hand on it, frowning at him, “Just call me Harls, Bird-brain. Ya’ve known me long enough, and it saves the question of what name suits me better at any time.”

There was a flash of something in his features, and it took her a moment to realise that it wasn't pity, but sympathy. That…didn't disgust her like she thought it would, actually.

Despite what his face told, his words said, “You know you could just ask if you wanted to follow behind and watch my ass, Harls. Certainly better than all this sneaking around after me.”

She smirked and retorted, “In ya dreams, bird-boy. Nah, I'm…I wanted to check on ya, alright? Ya got me a bit spooked last time, y'know.”

His features tightened, and the smile suddenly looked false, “Oh yeah. That. Yeah, sorry. You don't have to worry about that. I won't be a problem. Thanks for your concern.”

She stared a moment, blue eyes meeting white lenses, then, “Well that was some freaky bullshit, Wing. Did you learn that little plate of word vomit yourself, or did ya get it specially programmed?”

Harley knew she'd done something, said something wrong immediately. The hero’s features locked into an unreadable mask, his easy-going stance tightened, “I don't know what you're talking about, Quinn. But, since you're here, I'll tell you now. I don't know what your game is, what you're up to, but the Haven is my turf, so think long and real hard on whether you want to try anything here. I've taken you before, and I don't mind doing it again. I'll see you around, Harley.”

Before she could say a word, he jumped, and was gone, leaving her on a rooftop yet again. She looked after him, sighed a moment, and quietly swore “Fuck”

—

Barbara frowned. Again.

It was almost two weeks now since last contact from Dick. Two weeks of uncharacteristic silence. And, to make matters worse, all that he has sent in that last message was a simple “k” in response to her message about Bruce's new roster and upcoming gala bullcrap. No jokes, no witty banter, nothing. Just two little ticks and a “k”.

It felt… It actually felt awful, Barbara could admit to herself. To have her oldest friend feeling so far away was almost worse than when she thought he was dead. At least there was solace in memories of him then. Now, everything just felt warped and unnatural.

Worse still was the records on the Batcomputer systems. Dick was, in theory, meant to be putting reports on there following patrols in Bludhaven, since he worked with the bats and was a part of the batfamily. In reality, though, the reports that were arriving were few and far between, not to mention alarmingly sparse on details.

Simple entries that said he was out between hours that were far longer than they should be, and maybe a mention of a certain group or individual that he caught. That's it. A far cry from when his reports were the most detailed and meticulously filed on the system.

It just didn't add up. More than that, it was really starting to worry Barbara, as much as she hated the idea of worrying about the ass. But…

She rolled up to her commlink station, sighing again at the sight of Nightwing’s deactivated tracker and communicator. That was also a semi-new development. Roughly three weeks back. Another thing she didn't like. Another reason to do this.

“Open channel. It's Oracle. Anyone free to do a favour for me?”

She waited a moment, and sipped her tea, hating and loving that the smell reminded her of Dick, and it was like comfort and home and safety-

“Oracle, Hood here. Bats and the demon are busy with Riddler, RR is on bedrest from Agent A and the girls are off somewhere. Anything I'm good for, or…?”

She sighed quietly, and considering for half a second. Jason was probably the last person she'd have thought to ask, but…she needed to know. “Uh, yeah. I know it's a big ask, but would you mind going out to check on Nightwing? He's been dark for awhile.”

A loud scoff cut through the speakers, and Barbara winced slightly at the disdain ingrained in the noise. The comm opened again, and she braced for Jason's inevitable explicit rant when Bruce's voice cut in, “Oracle, this is Batman. Robin will be returning to the Cave, and I will go to investigate Nightwing's situation. Batman out.”

Well. That was that, apparently. Barbara wasn't sure if it was actually better that Bruce went than Jason, but at the very least, it likely wouldn't be worse. She sighed again, wishing for a moment that she had her best friend of last year back, to crack a joke and make her smile again.

“This is Oracle. Thanks anyway Hood. You're good to head home, if you want. City's quiet tonight.”

—

Dick was tired, sore, and a little irritable. He'd taken a hard hit to the ribs in the last fight, and was already feeling it. It was definitely going to bruise, but hopefully it wasn't broken. He couldn't go to a clinic, and he wouldn't go to the cave.

He knew he was being more reckless than he probably should be, otherwise he wouldn't have taken the hit, but it was difficult to actually care. There was so little in his life, yet too much to be emotional about.

Fuck, he missed how it used to be. He missed his friends, his family- Nope, not thinking about that.

Dick shook his head and twisted his body into the fire escape of his apartment building, lifting the latch and slipping into the living room. He landed with a sharp wince as his ribs screamed in protest to the contortion, and sighed with relief as the feeling of being home washed over him.

“Nightwing.”

Immediately, the tension returned to his body at the sound of that low, gravelly voice. Fuck. He spun around to face the Dark Knight lurking in the no-longer-dark corner of his living room, “Bruce? What- why are you here?”

Those damned lenses stared for a moment, as if they were actually going to be intimidating or something to Dick. Nope. Not anymore. When he was a kid, when he was Robin, it had worked. He remembered being downright spooked by that look. Now? Now it just pissed him off for the assumption that he would cave, and upset him for the thought that Bruce didn’t even care enough to be straightforward anymore.

Eventually, Batman spoke, “Oracle informed me that your tracker has been offline.”

Again, the man waited as if Dick was going to leap up and volunteer some deep-seated apology or something. Fuck that. He could wait too.

“...Did something happen to it?” Batman finally asked, voice cloudy and unclear as ever.

Dick shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “I turn it on whenever there's a need. Not exactly like anyone wants me around otherwise, is it? Thanks again for that, Bruce.”

Batman stared at him, then “Dick, I- It was…for a reason. The mission-”

He couldn’t stop the scoff even if he had cared to try, “Bruce, I don’t want to hear it. Kindly take your mission that’s more important than- Take your mission and shove it.” Dick spat vitriolically, “And get the fuck out of my home whilst you’re at it.”

Dick turned away without waiting for a response and went to his weapons stash to disarm his figure from the Nightwing gear, ignoring the feel of eyes on his back just as much as he ignored the sound of the window latch gently clicking shut.

Just as much as he ignored that tightness in his chest and dampness on his face.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.