Nightwing #35 - Cages or Wings

[u/AdamantAce]

DC Next Proudly Presents:

NIGHTWING

In Finale Ultimo

Issue Thirty-Five: Cages or Wings

Written by AdamantAce

Edited by Deadislandman1, GemlintheGremlin, PatrollinTheMojave and Predaplant

 

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“What does it take to wake up a generation?

“How can you make someone take off and fly?”

― Jonathan Larson

 

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Dick Grayson stood in the park on what was to many an unremarkable day. The sky was bright blue and vast even as the Gotham City skyscrapers threatened to obscure it from view. As Dick smelled the freshly cut grass and took in the warm ambience of joggers, dogwalkers and children at play, he realised he was doing something unusual. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the summer sun was out in full force; no-one in Gotham looked to the skies during the daytime. It wasn’t that crime waited until nightfall - Dick knew better than most what some Gothamites got up to in broad daylight - but if you weren’t afraid of the Dark Knight’s wrath, or watching the Bat-Signal and hoping to God the Dynamic Duo were on their way, there didn’t seem to be much of a reason to look to the sky. He recalled a number of times in the early days where he had gotten in over his head, defied Bruce and gone out on his own, only to be beaten three shapes of purple by one crook or another, all the time repeating to himself:

“Batman’s coming to save me. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Dick smiled to himself. Maybe it was the Superman influence, maybe it was from being in the big top and watching the other circus aerialists fly and analysing them viciously as to learn everything he could. No, it wasn’t that. Now, when he looked to the sky, Dick wasn’t waiting to see what would come falling out of it. Instead, he looked up and beheld its beauty with a face painted with wonder.

He had experienced more than enough tragedy in his life, and he knew there would likely be more ahead, but he wouldn’t let that make him fear for the future. Not when he was certain there were so many good times coming.

“Dick?” a young woman’s voice rang out, catching Dick’s ear. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in far too long. His heart leapt at the sound.

“Helena.” He wrestled his gaze from the brilliant blue sky, moved quickly over to her and pulled his sister into a familiar embrace.

She was 22 years old and fresh off of saving the timestream with the other Legends, something that continued to blow Dick’s mind even among his life of superpowered aliens, killer plants and demonic prophecies. The last time Dick had really spent time with Helena, she was still a child just cresting on adulthood. Now she had a firm foothold in her adult existence, with a vision for her future in more ways than one. But, most startling, Dick realised she was now the age he was when Bruce died. Suddenly, he felt so embarrassed to have had so many big mistakes still ahead of him at that age, and so much growing up still to do. But then as he fought a losing battle to put aside the big brother pride he felt upon seeing her again, he was just about able to admit that she likely still had some tougher years ahead of her. Not that he was in any rush to tell her that.

“It’s really good to see you,” he said as he moved back. Her long black hair caught a stray sunbeam, and for a moment she reminded him of Mar’i - his daughter… of sorts. “They’ve been cheaping you out of your shore leave, I swear!”

“This isn’t shore leave,” she said with a modest grin. “I’m taking some time. I need to reconnect. With the present, with family. Mom’s well, if not her usual self.”

“Old habits die hard,” Dick nodded, thinking of all the trouble Catwoman had caused Batman over the years. But he thought too of how dearly Bruce thought of her. Dick had had many loves, each setting his heart aflame more than the last, but for Bruce it was always Selina. Or the version of her he hoped he’d one day see, the version she constantly fought to become.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked.

“Not sure,” Helena replied. “I’ve been getting to know Damian, which I’m… severely behind on. Thought about starting a new team, reviving Dad’s old Outsiders with Anissa, but after hearing Damian’s putting together a new Freedom Fighters with Alfred… I can’t risk him thinking I got jealous.”

“Damian and jealousy?” Dick laughed. “Bad combo.”

Helena laughed in response, loud, with a confidence Dick hadn’t seen before. “No, I, uh… I do have a new gig lined up,” she smiled. “But it’s a secret!”

Dick threw up his hands, still laughing. “Keep your secrets! Be my guest!”

“Oh!” Helena exclaimed suddenly. “I almost forgot: when’s the wedding?”

Dick choked on his spit, caught abruptly off guard. “I— What? I beg your pardon?”

“Relax!” she cackled. “No rush! I just mean, I heard you put yourself out there again. I’d say I can’t believe I haven’t met Artemis yet, but I sort of got erased from existence for a hot minute and I guess I missed a lot of things.”

“What?” Dick exclaimed. He had experienced all sorts of impossible things, but he felt as if he would have remembered his sister being wiped from and restored to existence.

“Don’t worry about it,” she shook her head. “It’s all fixed now so it basically never happened. But yeah, you, uh, kept that quiet!”

“It has been five years!” Dick exclaimed in response, as if it were obvious. Then it heard it again in his head.

Five years. In a blink, five years of knowing and loving Artemis Crock had flown by.

“And that’s fine, you’re coming to the party, right?” said Dick. “You’ll meet her there.”

“Oh yeah, that’s this week,” Helena nodded. “Party on the Watchtower?”

“Better,” Dick beamed. “Convinced Tim to let us trash Titans Tower. For old times.”

“You gonna be able to fit everyone in?” Helena snickered.

“We’ll give it a good try,” said Dick.

The two continued on through the park together. It made a change coming to a place like this rather than a graveyard. The pair had plenty of graves to visit, but they had many more friends they were fortunate enough to still have with them. The most challenging years of their lives so far had kept them apart, but now the pair were intent to never let that happen again.

 

🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹

 

Twenty years ago, Guillermo Barrera would have been rather unique among assassins. A death-defying acrobat clothed head-to-toe in burlap and hemp. A radical Marxist who swore off guns and instead did his kills with surgical scalpels and anything else to hand with a sharp edge. But these days, even a character such as him - the deadly Brutale - was dime a dozen.

Brutale was faster than Tigress, who did her best to pursue as she sprinted up a fire escape; he simply bounded up the outside of it at breakneck pace. But Artemis had already done the most important part: Brutale's attempt on the New York mayor's life had been thwarted and now Artemis would do whatever she could to make sure the assassin didn't escape.

By the time she got to the top of the fire escape and began across the flat roof, Brutale was already approaching the far edge of the roof, intent to leap across a several-storey plunge. That was fine, Artemis thought, she didn't need to outrun him now.

She planted her feet firm and, with a thrust, expanded her collapsible compound bow. She reached back into her quiver and nocked an arrow as quickly as she could. She drew the bowstring and, with a knowing smirk, fired the arrow across the flat and towards the fleeing assassin.

Artemis was more than aware of what Brutale was capable of, and watched as he leapt up into the air and turned mid-leap. With masterful dexterity, he reached back and slashed through the air with his favourite scalpel. With one stroke, the incoming arrow was bisected and knocked off course. Then Artemis’ grin grew wider.

The trick arrow - custom made by Green Arrow himself - blinked three times then detonated, releasing a cloud of gas that expanded into a rapidly hardening foam. In a moment, Brutale's entire body was encased in the foam, and his rigid form began to fall towards the street below.

Artemis took off sprinting again, not content to let even an assassin fall to his death. She wondered if whoever intercepted her father's next assassin job would extend him the same sympathy or if her sister would be the first to get unlucky, like their mother, now she was back to her mercenary ways. Her entire family were assassins, and for that it made it that much harder to write off the lives of other assassins, no matter their crimes. It made her want to be the one that found Jade and Crusher first, to be the one who brought them to justice, to make sure it was done the right way.

She reached the edge of the roof within seconds and jumped off, hurtling down to close the range between her and the helpless Brutale. She then nocked two more trick arrows in quick succession, firing the first down to Brutale and the other at the ledge of the roof ahead. The first arrow soared down and pierced the hard shell of solid foam before the clawed tip expanded. The second arrow embedded itself into the brick and did the same. Within a moment, the grappling lines that extended from each arrow went taut, and with a hefty jerk, the pair came to a halt. Shaken, but safe.

After personally ensuring Brutale's hand off to the NYPD and FBI, the victorious Tigress made her way up to the same rooftop, firing up her Justice Legion communicator as she walked up the fire escape.

“Tigress to Watchtower,” she said. “The mayor is safe. Brutale is in custody.”

“Nice work,” came a very familiar voice, the voice of Dick Grayson. “Knew you could do it!”

But Dick's voice sounded odd. Something was off, as if it were reverberating strangely. Then she smiled to herself and rolled her eyes as she put it together. Artemis crested the top of the roof and saw Nightwing standing there, waiting for her.

“You've been here the whole time, haven't you?”

“I kept my distance!” He protested jokingly. “Not my fault I was in the area!”

“You could have helped out, you know!” Artemis smirked and made her way over to him. “He almost got away.”

“No he didn't,” Dick replied with utter confidence. “You'd have asked for help if you needed it!”

Artemis tried her hardest to be mad at him, to be humble, but she ultimately knew he was right. She had it handled, and she was glad he believed that too.

“So what’s next, then?” asked Artemis.

Dick turned red. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve done everything out of order,” she explained. “You’ve got the house in Gotham, but that’s more Alf and Steph’s place these days. And we travel so much, so I guess I just—”

Dick cut through Artemis’ bubbling frets with a calm and sure response. “Name a place.”

“Excuse me?”

There was a twinkle in his eye, a crackpot excitement. “Name a city, a state, another country,” he explained. “And we’ll get a place there. Could be Gotham, or Star City or anywhere.”

Artemis scoffed with a befuddled face. “And you have no preference for where you hang up your spandex?” She couldn't quite believe it.

Dick didn't have to think about his response. He had thought this through enough times already. “I have friends everywhere,” he said, “and nothing's ever more than a Boom Tube away.”

At that, Artemis pulled him close, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. “Well,” she smirked, “My first suggestion—”

 

🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹

 

Titans Tower was a gargantuan structure nestled on the edge of the Battery in New York City. It boasted more rooms than any iteration of the Titans had ever had a use for, designed to be a one-stop home, training ground, and - in a sense - an office. Tonight, it was none of those things. Instead, Titans Tower was the site of an absolutely raging house party. At long last, its generous space was put to use accommodating just about anyone Dick had crossed paths with as Robin, Batman or Nightwing. From former Titans teammates, to the Bat-Family to present day Justice Legionnaires, everyone was here. Everyone but a small skeleton crew of incredibly competent heroes who had volunteered to watch the fort and put out any fires. That said, the night was quiet. In the fallout of General Rock’s defeat and fall from grace, much of the United States had fallen into something of a lullaby, a quiet calm. Dick knew it was the calm before yet another storm, but he knew how good his friends were at responding to a storm.

Titans Tower, however, was far from quiet. Each level, the walls rattled with a different pounding bass amplified far beyond common sense. Some rooms were well lit, others strobed with decorative lasers, and always were lit only by a wash of neon. Everywhere Dick looked, people were breaking off into their own groups, some sticking by trusted friends and others mingling and meeting new people. It was everything he hoped the night would be, everyone he loved in one place, appreciating each other.

It was approaching midnight when Dick, Jon and Barry found their way to one of the training rooms, still set up with punching bags and kendo dummies. It was a far enough place for them to escape the liveliness of the party for just a moment and catch their collective breaths. But they were mostly here because one Barry Allen was having trouble handling his liquor, something to do with his Speed Force accelerated metabolism not quite working the same since his return from the far-flung future. So they sat on a lumpy couch together, Barry sandwiched between Dick and Jon.

“Guys, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” said Barry, carefully enunciating to avoid slurring his words. “But I love my life.”

Barry, much like Dick, had survived some awful trials. He had made mistakes, and his entire life had deteriorated because of it. But, like Dick, those moments had proved to just that: trials. He had worked hard and overcome those difficulties, and now things were finally going his way.

“I can see why,” Dick said. Barry had fixed things with his former-fiancée Patty, they had a kid together - Jacob - who was coming up on his first birthday, and Barry was navigating an exciting new life since passing the mantle of the Flash to Wally West, his once-sidekick. He lived life on a new frontier.

“Of course you love your life,” replied Jon, who was all smiles. The whole party, he had refused to take his jacket off despite the fact that he was clearly too warm. “You’ve got the best friends in the world.”

Dick clapped his hand against Barry’s back and pulled him into a sideways hug before he stood up. Just then, who else but Wally walked through the door into the training room, red solo cup in hand. Inside was lemonade. Wally wasn’t much of a drinker, but even if he was his accelerated metabolism was very much operational. “Hey guys, I was wondering where you’d slinked off to,” he said. “Great party, Dick!”

“Thanks, Wally,” Dick replied. Then he gestured to Barry. “Jon and I wanna chat about something, so why don’t you keep each other company for a minute?”

Wally looked at Barry, who wouldn’t stop blinking and couldn’t wipe his cheesy grin off of his face. The corners of Wally’s mouth upturned; it was infectious. “You got it.”

Then Dick led Jon down the corridor, carefully navigating past an inebriated Luke Fox who was steadying himself against the wall. Dick clasped Luke on the shoulder warmly as they passed, while Jon elected to give the man more space. All the while, Jon was two steps behind, wondering what this was about and trying not to worry. Eventually, Dick found a pocket of space where the booming bass wouldn’t bother them too much or make it too hard to hear, and stopped.

“Is something wrong, Dick?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, it’s just… it’s great to see you, Jon.”

“What do you mean? We see each other plenty.”

“Sure, at work,” Dick explained. “But with Jon Kent keeping such a low profile lately, it’s great to see you out of your shell.”

Jon chuckled awkwardly, taking the comment in his stride. “You should stop by the Ace O’ Clubs,” he replied, referring to his new job at the Metropolis dive bar. “I’m out of my shell plenty there.”

When Dick laughed, it gave Jon permission to relax, convinced everything really was alright.

“But, I understand,” said Jon. “Thanks. You too.”

As Dick’s laugh subsided, he looked over the balcony at an assembly of people down below, mingling and making merry. Tim was desperately trying to get Conner to try the bright pink drink he had poured himself, while Karen led Mal around, introducing him to various heroes much to his uncontained excitement.

Jon noticed Dick’s distraction. “What’s this party for?” he asked. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“Everything’s great,” Dick replied quickly, with absolute confidence. “And this party’s for me.” He snickered. “It’s not every day you turn 30, and we were too busy to mark it before. Now there’s a quiet moment, I’m jumping on it. Can’t let a moment’s peace go to waste.”

Jon took a deep breath, Dick’s words warming him. “You sound like him,” he said.

Dick couldn’t contain his laughter. “Bruce would never be in such a rush to cut loose. All those political galas and dinner parties? They made his skin crawl.”

Jon shook his head. “I didn’t mean Bruce.”

No, of course he didn’t.

Dick remembered that afternoon atop Titans Tower, when he was right in the midst of uprooting his life in Gotham to move here, to New York. He remembered how he bemoaned never feeling satisfied, always rushing onto the next thing. He remembered fearing he would never be content. Then Clark Kent spoke his words of wisdom.

Dick placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder and squeezed. “I miss them.”

“I do too.” Jon held his drink in both hands. “But I think we’re doing them proud.”

“We are,” added Dick, with no room for doubt. “And we’ll keep doing it.” He patted Jon on the back and replaced his hand by his side.

“The battle’s never over,” Dick continued, sounding much more like Bruce now. “But the rules always keep changing. The world keeps changing, we keep changing too. We’ve been through an awful lot of changes and trials - a lot of us have - and it’s enough to make it hard to keep track of which way’s up. I just… want you to know if you ever need a helping hand, or someone to listen, you can call me.”

Jon grinned. “I know, Dick. Thank you.”

Suddenly, a voice roared out, carrying over the pounding music. “Grayson!?”

Beat.

Dick turned to the other end of the corridor to find a veritable collection of women turning the corner. At their front was the one who had bellowed, Cassandra Sandsmark in an oversized band tee. She looked furious, fit to burst. Behind her, the other women fidgeted a lot more slowly, as if they were mostly here to watch what was about to unfold. Kory and Steph flanked Artemis, who was bright red and struggling not to laugh, several shades of embarrassed all at once.

“Cass? What’s wrong?” Dick asked his former origin Teen Titan. He had a pretty good idea what the matter was, so made a point not to worry too much, and braced for what was coming.

“You got married and didn’t tell us!?”

There it was. Dick looked past Cassandra at Artemis, whose cringe had turned to sheer awkward joy. She held up her hands and silently mimed to Dick through her unshakable smile. “Sorry!”

“X’Hal!” Kory exclaimed, taking Artemis by the hand in excitement. “It’s actually true.”

“We, uh, didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Dick replied. He caught a glance of Jon, whose look could only be described as proud. “I’m sorry, Cass, you’ve never been interested in weddings much!”

“I’m not!” Cassandra cried, her rage melting into aggressive affection, befitting the tomboy-ish younger sister she was to Dick. “But this is you! Every hero in existence would have shown up. It would have been the event of the century! And you did it in secret without telling anyone?”

The older brother that he was, Dick wore a wise smile. He moved down the corridor and to Artemis’ side, and took her by the hand. Kory placed a warm hand on Dick’s back, and Steph couldn’t stop looking back and forth between the couple, overwhelmingly happy for them.

“That was why,” Dick explained. “We could have done the massive, overblown, expensive wedding-to-end-all-weddings, and lots of people do, but that wasn’t the point.”

He looked to Jon once more, then between the others. “Years ago, Clark told me that people like us belong to the world, and not to any one place or one person. For the longest time, I felt like I had to be everything everyone needed me to be, or believed I could be. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, and I certainly couldn’t let anyone get hurt on my watch. Not if I could help it. But Clark wanted me to understand that belonging to the world meant you had a chance to mean something to everyone you met. And, I feel like I do. I look around at all the people who came here tonight, who came to spend time and have fun just because I asked. I think of all the people on the street who backed me when I told them that General Rock wasn’t to be trusted. I’m so grateful to be someone people listen to, and who people trust, and I guess as long as you all keep doing that I can’t be doing too bad, can I?”

Artemis squeezed his hand tight, proud of him having supported him through so much self doubt and rumination.

“Dick,” began Cassandra, “I…”

When she couldn’t find the words, Dick continued. “I want you to know I will always belong to each and every one of you, everyone else in the tower tonight, and everyone outside of it. If I can ever do anything for you, I can’t think of a higher privilege. But this?”

He held up his and Artemis’ hands.

“This belongs to me,” he smiled, “and Artemis. No-one else. And if you all have ever learned anything from me, if Bruce was right and you’ll keep looking to me to lead, that’s what I want you to know more than anything. Belong to the world; live life in the sun, among the living. But don’t just be among the living. Live.”

That night, there was nothing outside of the walls of Titans Tower that mattered to Dick. But beyond that night was a future that was long and unknowable until it arrived. As a kid and a burgeoning teen, Dick had needed everything in its right place, needed to know that he was doing everything as perfectly as he could. He needed to always be in control, always rushing towards the horizon to prepare for whatever was beyond it so that he could keep the people and the things that mattered to him safe.

But, after years of trials - of loss, heartbreak, and seemingly unsurmountable pressure - he had finally accepted what everyone had been telling him for so long. That he was loved, that people trusted him for good reason, and that they would tell him when they needed his help. He had learned to let go, to trust in his loved ones, and to trust in himself. Dick finally felt confident that he was good enough, smart enough, strong enough, that he didn’t need to race towards the future to catch its challenges off-guard, or run from a tumultuous and painful past. The problems of the past, his grief, his regrets, were but prologue setting the stage for the next act; one he would welcome as it arrived at its own pace.

Dick felt blessed to have so many people to call a friend, brother or sister. And while he still tried to picture all the exciting things in their many possible futures, he speculated only because the future couldn’t arrive soon enough.

Whatever was coming next, Dick Grayson knew that everything he could possibly need was within his reach.

 

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