WARNING: Elseworlds. Daaark fic. Travesty of various 
characters, character assassination committed on 
various Batboys. Definitely not your Dad's DC.
Pairing: Dick/Babs (minor)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, borrowed from DC, twisted by Yours Truly.

 /(_M_)\ 
(DARKEST)
 \(~V~)/ 

Darkest Before Dawn

Later, I listened to the surveillance tapes. I guess I wanted to know what was going through her mind right then, what made her help me. Three years now, and she still hasn't figured out that one of my information sources is a bug in her own office at Gotham City Police HQ. She hasn't had the time to keep up with computer technology, I guess.

I have. I have nothing but time now.

A door slamming open, then closed. Two sets of footsteps, and I knew who they were. She's never gotten out of the habit of wearing combat boots with everything, and as for the other, only Agent Lance whistles that badly.

"Dinah, can you believe that guy?" she started. "I don't care if he had a hunch the mook was a serial killer, he didn't have to shoot him on sight!"

There was a soft sound as Dinah Lance patted her friend's shoulder. "I know, and I know we lost the lead on the Bertinelli syndicate. Don't worry, we'll bring her down somehow. As for the guy, you saw the pictures. I don't blame him."

A chair, falling to the floor. "Is this what they teach you at the FBI these days?"

"Yes, it is. Listen, Lieutenant Lady, it's just that America's gone too bad to spare time for subtlety. They can maybe afford that in Metropolis, but superheroes aren't that easy to come by-"

"We've got a hero. It just means there's more blood to be washed off the streets." Angry rustling as she tried to make a start on her paperwork, then a sharp indrawn breath when her eyes fell on the note I left for her. "Speak of the devil."

"What-"

"It's him. He wants to meet me."

"That's our chance to get him. I'll call the reinforcements."

"Call in the army, why don't you? This is Nightwing we're talking about."

 /(_M_)\ 
(  ONE  )
 \(~V~)/ 

In front of me, the ruins of Wayne Manor rose against the darkening sky like something out of a fairytale, the kind that leaves children screaming in the night. Technically it still belonged to me, but a vigilante on the run from the law could hardly afford to live in such a public place. And there are too many memories.

The grass around the tombstone was pristine, perfectly cared for.

"It's been a pretty good month," I started. "I finally took down Blockbuster, so that's over. Tim's doing great, even on the solo patrols. Jean-Paul's better, Leslie's got him on some new meds that are pretty good at leveling his moods. The last time the Russians tried to establish a foothold in the city, I only had to remind them of what happened with the Beast and they ran away on their own. I'm starting to have the same effect you did," I grinned. "It probably would have worked quicker if I had a cape, but I would trip over it, so instead I have to trust my reputation.

"And then we might have a new recruit. I'll tell you more next time, I'm about to have a visitor here."

My roses were red. I laid them carefully between the white ones, then traced the letters with my finger.

BRUCE WAYNE
beloved Father
Protector of Gotham
Vindex Quondam, Vindex Futurus

The Once and Future Knight. I wrote that epitaph back before I decided to take on his crusade.

I heard her behind me. She stopped by the other grave, and as I turned she leaned down to adjust the flowers there.

"You still come here to talk to him?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Do you think he would have been proud of what you've become?"

I shrugged. "I'm fighting evil. The only way I know how."

She looked at me, green eyes large behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Dick, is this about guilt? Are you still blaming yourself for everything that happened?"

"Shouldn't I, Babs? If we hadn't had that quarrel, he wouldn't have asked you to take on that mission, to put on the costume once again. If you'd been home, your father would be alive."

She flinched, backing a step almost right over Jason's grave. "Dick..."

"I'm sorry, love. That was uncalled for." I walked to her and put an arm around her. "Listen, I knew better than anyone else what a disaster a team could turn into. I should have persevered - talked him out of it."

"It's not your fault, the JLA didn't know they were outnumbered that much!" She trembled beneath my hand. "Oh, Dick, is this why you've changed?"

I shook my head. "Love, I'm doing what I was trained to. By any means necessary."

"Including leaving crooks disemboweled and hanging from butcher hooks?" she almost screamed. "Dick, is that what he would have wanted?"

I allowed myself a small smile. "Deterrence factor."

I barely had time to catch her hand before it connected with my face.

"Murderer," she hissed.

"You don't understand."

She looked as if she was about to say something, but then the searchlights came on behind her, drowning her face in darkness.

"Richard John Grayson, Nightwing," a woman's voice called through a loudspeaker. "Lay down your weapons and back off slowly."

My favorite policewoman kept looking straight at me.

"Why don't you pull out your gun?" I suggested. "One more won't make a difference, and you'll have the best chance of taking me down."

She shook her head.

"Go for you gun, Batgirl," I whispered.

She did, and I grabbed her gun arm. I twisted her around, held her from behind and put the gun to her head. She leaned against me bonelessly, and I could see the tears on her face now.

"Let me through or the Lieutenant gets it!" I called out.

They all stepped aside, keeping their weapons trained on me. I was impressed: not only the SWAT team, but they'd also called in the marines from across the river.

Not that they were of any help. Not with a Magnum next to a cop's head.

I got Babs on my bike, and we roared off, faster than anyone could follow. As soon as we got into the downtown, I stopped the bike in an alley.

She was quiet, still. She looked at me with those wide green eyes.

Sometimes I really hate myself.

I leaned down and kissed her, the way we used to when I was eighteen and all was right in the world. She melted into my arms.

Then I placed a hand on her shoulder and pressed a certain nerve. She fainted.

I stuck around on the rooftops long enough to make sure it was the cops who found her and not some low-life. Turned out the FBI got there first, which figured. Dinah Lance used to be in my line of work herself, but she'd got out while the going was good.

I wondered if Oliver's death haunted her as much as Bruce's did me.

 /(_M_)\ 
(  TWO  )
 \(~V~)/ 

Tim had been the one who started to call this place "The Heights". It fitted - we only really occupied the top floor of this old factory. It wasn't much, but it was home, sort of. Familiar ground.

Familiar enough that I knew the pattern of shadows at this time of night. One was new.

"What do you want?" I called out.

"Uh, hi," the intruder started hesitantly. He floated downwards, carefully keeping out of my reach. "I don't know if you remember me-"

"Rayner." Kyle Rayner, wannabe artist. Five years ago he had happened to be on a certain street just as a dying hero returned from a trip to the dawn of time. Since then he had been struggling with that legacy. "Green Lantern."

"Right." He smiled under the mask.

"What do you want?" I repeated.

"I've been thinking - well, me and Connor have been thinking - uh -"

"Spit it out," I ordered as I went around him and started cleaning my gear. Dangerous, but the Green Lantern Corps didn't exactly endorse unprovoked homicide. Even if Rayner had been listed as on probation the last time I checked. Besides, we weren't exactly alone there.

"We want to create a team." I froze. Now that he was sure of having my attention, the words poured out at hyper-speed. "You know what the world's coming to - Superman can't be everywhere at once - and we really don't have anyone else at that power level. But if we work together, if we fight evil together, we can-"

"You can die. And you will, if you continue with this nonsense," I hissed as I turned to him. "I've seen what happens to hero teams."

He scowled in anger and tried to put a hand on my arm. Unfortunately for him, while I'd been looking into the shadows, he hadn't. He tried to pull the garrote wire away from his throat with his hands, but to no avail; instead, he crumbled to his knees.

"Let him go," I ordered Tim. "He's not an enemy, just a fool."

Robin pouted as he released the gasping Green Lantern. "Do I have to? I barely got to have any fun on patrol today... And he's fun!"

Kyle gave us a dirty look, but I just ruffled the boy's hair. "Run along, little bird, you'll get your fun."

"Ooo, promise?" Tim laughed as he disappeared in the corridor leading to the showers.

I helped Kyle off the floor.

"Drop the idea," I advised him. "All that will come out of it is your teammates' death."

He started to say something, but I stopped him with a gesture. "Forgot the 'no mortal injury' perk of that piece of fairground jewelry you're wearing? Others wouldn't have that benefit. Any superhero team is unbalanced from the start; no-one has the right idea about everyone else's powers, no-one knows what others will do in a fight, no-one knows when something surpasses them, so they don't know when to get out. Your Corps works because you're all the same, but with Gardner's departure you're the only Green Lantern Earth has. It'll be the Teen Titans all over again."

"Titans?"

"Right, there's a reason you haven't heard of them. After Aquaman was killed off - only the first in the long line of the JLA's failures - Aqualad decided he wanted to form a team to help him carry on the legacy. He asked me, Speedy - Green Arrow's sidekick - and Wonder Girl. After our first mission, I was the only one who walked away."

"That's-"

"Stupid, right? We weren't fast enough, or smart enough to take cover. Out of them Wonder Girl was the luckiest. She only sustained brain damage that put her into a coma," I spat. "This is what happens to teams!"

Neither of us mentioned the other disaster. The JLA mission barely a year after Crisis, the one Kyle had not joined because of his "rookie" status. The one from which only Superman came back.

The one where the Dynamic Duo died.

"We think we've figured out what went wrong," Kyle said quietly.

I startled.

"You're right, teams to date suffered because people had no idea about their other team members," he continued. "And that was because they didn't have a leader," he explained. "Connor told me about when he was in Gotham last, about how much your team impressed him. How good a leader you are."

For a moment, there was no sound in the room except for his breathing.

"That's what I came here for," he explained. "To offer you the leadership of the team."

I took a deep breath. "It won't work. First, you're the only one with substantial powers. What if you're recalled for Corps matters just as someone in your power league attacks? You leave your teammates to die?"

"We've got that figured out too," he interrupted me. "Firestorm's signed up, and then there's a girl with flight and major solar powers."

"Will she join?"

"She doesn't have much of a choice," he shrugged. "She's an alien, and they didn't exactly let her out of the camp... They did some experiments on her, too."

"Scientists," I snarled.

He nodded in agreement. Even his fellow Corps members have had serious trouble with the authorities, and only the disaster-relief job is keeping Superman out of a concentration camp these days. Earth isn't a good place for aliens.

Then again, it isn't exactly cozy for humans, either.

"So you'll-" Kyle looked hopeful.

"Get out," I ordered as I slumped onto a sofa. "Out!"

He obeyed hastily. I sat there for a few minutes, fighting down the images running through my head.

Aqualad - Garth - his purple eyes shining as he told us our new war cry: "Titans together!"

Babs flying through rooftops one last time, proud to be a part of the Bat family, not knowing about the madman knocking at her father's door.

Jason running up to me, babbling excitedly about his first mission with the JLA.

Bruce telling Alfred he'd be back in time for dinner.

And then, blood. Always blood.

"He's not right, you know," Tim said as he flopped down next to me. He had changed from his costume into civilian clothes, and his hair was still damp in the muted light that filtered in from the street. "We're not a team."

"Aren't we, little bird?"

"Nah." He shook his head, causing droplets of water to scatter everywhere. "We're family."

I hugged him briefly. "Okay, then as head of the family I order you to do your homework now."

He pouted, but walked obediently to the computer workstation. As the only one of us whose identity wasn't public - and the heir of a sizable fortune after what Benedict Asp did to his father - he had to keep up appearances. Even if all he wanted to do since then was to make sure no criminal went free to do the same to another child's parents.

I allowed myself to drift off, thinking of the time - was it three years ago already? - I first stumbled into a boy determined to seek his vengeance. He had idolized the Batman all his life, but at the end of the day he had been perfectly happy to fight by Nightwing's side.

Sometimes I think Tim's the only thing keeping me even halfway sane.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Jean Paul was shaking me awake.

"Dinner is served, monsieur," he said. "And it would be nice if you could change beforehand."

I swatted at his hands, still halfway asleep. "G'way, bad night..."

As soon as I got up, he pushed me to the showers. "Take the kevlar off at least. I don't know how you can voluntarily sleep in it. And the mask."

"Yes, mother," I muttered sarcastically as I obeyed. I knew better than to argue though. I didn't want to risk Jean Paul taking offense and making me make my own food; I could do edible, but he could do much better.

Over dinner, I noticed Tim and Jean Paul exchanging looks. Finally the little Robin spoke.

"So, I saw Cain's girl today again."

"Any trouble?" I asked.

"Nah. She seemed kind of apathetic - I don't think she's eating. Like she lost direction after what we did to Cain."

I sensed a 'but' coming. "So?"

"So she was asking about us - I mean, not asking, 'cause she doesn't talk, but she's really good with gestures. And then she helped me take out some punks. I think she wants to sign up."

"We'll consider it." I'd considered it before, too; she'd approached me a few nights ago during a stake-out. But right now a new addition to the family hit way too close to what I'd been thinking about.

"She's really good. And you know that what she did for Cain wasn't her fault - she was just his tool, he didn't teach her the difference between right and wrong. And she needs to see people - if she has us to turn to, she won't just spiral down, we'll pull her up instead. We could work together really well."

"Tim, he said we'll consider it," Jean Paul said in that quiet voice of his. Tim grinned, of course - he knew that if he had Jean Paul on his side, convincing me to take little Miss Cain in would be just a matter of time.

After we were finished with dinner, Tim wandered off to sleep, but I had no such luck with my other companion.

"Le petit oiseau told me you had a visitor," Jean Paul started as we cleaned the dishes off the table.

"Yeah, we need to upgrade anti-meta security."

"Richard, you know this was not what I meant." He looked at me sternly and I allowed myself a grin; even after all this time, the choirboy can't bring himself to call me 'Dick'. "You're considering the offer."

I hate it when he can read me like a book.

"Maybe," I admitted. "I mean, I know all the arguments against... but still..."

"Still?"

"I keep thinking that even after all that went wrong, people are still trying. Even though it's been proven time and again that it's a solo business, one partner if you're good, two at best, they're still trying to band together, still believing in safety in numbers. I keep thinking..."

"That maybe Green Lantern was right? That if you lead them, they won't go wrong?"

"I'm not megalomaniac enough to think I have something that Superman, Aqualad or Hawkman didn't." I grinned sheepishly. "But every time I start to think about it, my mind runs away on me - I start making plans, training schedules, and then... it might just work."

"Then it will."

"Paul..."

"You always told me about the Batman, and how good a judge of human nature he was. Why then did he persevere with the JLA?"

I shrugged. "Partly to keep J'onn out of a concentration camp, of course, but mostly because - I guess he believed they could make it work together. Maybe he needed to believe not all humans are like those we meet on patrol, because otherwise..."

"From what you said, he wasn't someone who would stick to a false decision."

"Yeah, but when he couldn't find a fault, he persevered. He never gave up, that's what made him so good at this. He never gave up on what... was... right."

I didn't have to look to know my friend was smiling. "Neither do you. And you also need to believe that you're not alone in your fight."

I took a look around the room. Jean Paul's computer corner, and Tim's textbooks scattered next to it. Selina's cat postcards - a self-proclaimed attempt to 'liven up the place' - hanging up on the wall next to the disquieting mask Jason Blood brought in because he didn't 'want to deal with demons in your bodies'. The Batman and Robin costumes I'd managed to salvage from the ruins of Wayne Manor the night Alfred had died and my secret identity had been blown sky-high.

"I already know that."

 /(_M_)\ 
( THREE )
 \(~V~)/ 

A week later, the Kobra crime syndicate attacked San Francisco. Normally, they would have taken the streets in a few short hours.

Now the streets run with the blood of reptile worshippers.

Forty-eight minutes since we went into action. No casualties on our side. About two hundred on theirs.

"Good work, team," I say.

They're not smiling, but I know they're happy because of a job well-done. We do make quite a group, I guess. Kyle's the only one with any sort of legitimacy, but his status as a wildcard in the Corps doesn't help him. Piper's wanted by the police, as am I. So's Koriand'r; when she broke out of the concentration camp, she took down a guard and two researchers.

When I look at her, I'm not surprised she killed them. She must have been beautiful once.

The rest of the team's slowly joining us. Connor's got his face on quite a few Wanted posters for eco-terrorism. So does Raymond, and I'm glad they're on our side.

And then there's Azrael. Not surprising, really. There's no-one else I'd trust to guard my back in a fight.

We'll have to issue a statement soon, something for the evening news to scare their viewers with. I try out a phrase or two.

"We're the Outsiders. And we're here to make the wrong things right."

 /(_M_)\      Warsaw
( FINIS )     03.03.2003
 \(~V~)/      dusk

Post Scriptum:
My inspiration were three pages of Flash #165, volume 2. Wally West was sent to an alternate dimension where the Speed Force apparently didn't exist. There were deeper consequences than the obvious ones that neither Jay, Barry or Wally had ever been the Flash. The JSA failed, Mr Terrific died and the allies bombed Berlin. Decades later, due to not having a speedster on the team, one of the JLA's first missions ended in Aquaman's death by the hands of the alien Starro. This led to creating the concentration camps for aliens. But the most tragic was the fate of the Teen Titans: as Dick recounts here, their very first adventure against Mr Twister (though different from the original Titans team-up as Aqualad was the one to gather the young heroes after the death of his mentor, and Donna was already a member) ended in Garth and Roy's deaths, and Wonder Girl slipped into a coma.
Okay, standard tragic fate of the universe if you never existed, "It's a wonderful life" all over again. But what struck me was the next panel. "All young heroes were removed from action. And a large portion of the adults started playing judge, jury and executioner. Still do."
The graphic on the panel? Blockbuster hanging limp in chains, suspended from a ceiling. And Nightwing with a Joker-worthy smile.
It wasn't a plot bunny. It was a plot steamroller that rolled right over me.
I hope you enjoyed the ride.

"le petit oiseau" - little bird.
"vindex" doesn't exactly mean knight; the dictionary translation is "protector" or "avenger". I thought it was a good approximation of the Bat's "Dark Knight" title.

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