68Disclaimer: Young Justice & Batman are not mine.
The sharp intake of air was the first indication that things had gone wrong.
The battle on the beach came to an abrupt halt as the two powerhouses stopped, face to face and chest to chest.
No one moved, no one dared breathe.
And then Aqualad jerked his arm forward and plunged the blade of water completely through Nightwing's sternum and out between his shoulder blades.
"You lose," Kaldur hissed in his former teammates face and pulled the blade free of the now falling body.
"NO!" Batgirl screamed, ignoring the rocket as it exploded in midair and the Black Manta soldiers that followed Aqualad back into the ocean. She ran for her leader – her friend – and fell to her knees beside him.
There was so much blood…
She felt it soak into her gloves as she tried to staunch to flow only to realize he wasn't breathing. She tore off the bloody gloves and pressed her fingers against his neck, praying that there was something… nothing.
Overhead, the Bioship paused long enough to allow Superboy to leap to the sand below. He stared at Batgirl, fighting back the sobs as she administered CPR. "I – I don't hear his heartbeat…"
M'gann was beside them suddenly, tears welling in her eyes as she crumpled next Superboy, watching, waiting, praying…
Batgirl was weeping as she pulled back, hands blood and tears streaming from beneath her mask. "He's dead…"
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.
The League, the Team, dozens of heroes had beamed into the cave as the first reports of the mission came back. They had failed. Lagoon Boy had been captured. The missile had launched but exploded shortly thereafter.
And Nightwing was dead.
No one wanted to believe it. He was a Bat, for God's sake! He was their leader, the best of them. He couldn't possibly have fallen to a traitor!
And yet, they were all speechless as the Bioship landed in the hanger. Superboy was the first to step out, cradling a still weeping Batgirl against his side as they disembarked. That was the moment they knew.
"No," Robin had shook his head, staggering forward until he was beside the pair and gripping Batgirl's arms just a little too tightly. "No, say it's not true! It's not-"
She couldn't meet his eyes and that was when Miss Martian came out of the ship. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she moved stiffly, her hand brushing against the body covered in a dark blue sheet hovering next to her.
M'gann stumbled, seeing the mass of eyes staring at the form and her knees buckled beneath her. Impulse and the Flash were beside her in an instant, the flash catching her before she hit the floor and Impulse caught the body as it started to fall from her loss of control. His eyes were wide with horror when he realized what he was holding.
"It wasn't… he… not like this…" the younger speedster set his burden on the floor of the hanger and staggered back as he stared at the blood staining his hands. "This wasn't how…"
Robin was next to the body and moving the sheet aside. The skin was already ashen and waxy. The domino mask was still in place and with a visibly trembling hand Robin deactivated its defenses and slipped it off the older teens face. Nightwing's eyes – Dick's eyes – were closed. Blood flecked the corner of lifeless lips. There was no denying it, and yet…
Tim tore his own mask from his face, uncaring about secrets and identities, tossing it aside as his hand cupped his brother's cheek and his thumb wiped the stain away. "Come on Dick," he choked on lump in his throat. "Stop fooling around, big brother. Get up. "
Behind him, someone sobbed and Tim felt a hand on his shoulder trying to pull him back. "Timmy, please…"
It was Batgirl, he own mask pushed back as the tears fell unchecked.
"It's a trick, Babs," the boy whispered as the first tear fell from his eyes. "It… he's playing a trick. Tell him, Babs; tell he can get up now. Tell him!"
"Oh god, Tim, I'm so sorry," the girl sobbed, shaking her head and reaching for him again.
"No!" He bellowed, pushing her away. "No! He's not- He wouldn't do this! He wouldn't leave me! He wouldn't - No! God damn it, Dick, get up! Get up! Please, get up! Please, don't – Oh god, don't leave me! "
Unknown arms grabbed onto him and dragged him away. He spun on the person who dared take him from his brother and drove a vicious swing of a fist toward the large chest. It was caught easily and Conner pulled Tim to his chest and held the boy as he railed and sobbed and crumbled under the loss of the only family he had left.
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The atmosphere of the mountain was oppressive in its grief.
From behind closed doors the faint sobs and cries of Young Justice permeated the air. They had lost one of their own. Their leader, their mentor, their friend.
Their brother.
It was only because of this grief that the pulse of energy that sent everyone into unconsciousness went unnoticed. It came from outside the mountain, from beneath the waves the swept the beach. On its wake, he strode from the water with his burden over his shoulder.
He approached the entrance to Mount Justice and entered a series of numbers that did several things at once. The intruder alarms were deactivated, the camera feeds looped for the last few minutes, and a second pulse emanated from inside the mountain to ensure he would not be discovered.
He shifted the load he carried and entered the still familiar halls. It was nothing for him to navigate his way to the med bay where his prize resided.
He had not, however, anticipating there being others inside.
Tim Drake lay curled up against Conner, the Superboy's arms draped protectively around the younger hero. The sat in chairs pulled up beside the gurney where a body lay draped with deep blue cloth.
Guilt gnawed at his gut, but there was no backing out now.
He set what he carried on an empty bed an approached the body. He drew back the cloth and inhaled sharply through flared nostrils. His insides rolled and he battled to keep from throwing up at the image the body before him burned into his memory.
He moved quickly, retrieving a small syringe and need from a compartment in his black gauntlet and wasted no time in plunging it into the body's arm. He counted to twenty, then twice more. He began to worry he was too late when suddenly foggy blue eyes snapped open and the mouth parted as lungs drew in their first breath in hours.
Kaldur was pulling Dick up into a sitting position as the other teen regained his bearings. "I began to fear I had indeed killed you. You truly appear dead."
Coughing the stale breathe from his lungs, Dick gripped the Atlantean's arm in reassurance. "You don't want to know how much I paid for the illusion," he wheezed after a moment and reached up to the collar of his uniform. He plucked a small diamond from beneath the material and his image shimmered a moment before rippling away to reveal his true form, albeit a little pale and still covered in blood. "Zatanna's not the only one who can weave spells like this, but she would have done it for free if I had asked her."
"Why did you not, then?"
"Because no one else is going to know what we've done."
"No one?" Kaldur asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I didn't even tell Batman our plan before he left," Dick admitted and rubbed at his face wearily. "I'm actually a little afraid of what will happen when he gets back and finds out I'm dead."
"Perhaps it best we let someone know the truth?" he responded, willing to play devil's advocate in the same discussions they had for the last year. Despite what Dick said now, Kal knew he would follow through.
And Dick did not disappoint.
He shook his head and slid from the bed as he started to strip of his stained uniform. "We need to do this quickly."
Kaldur nodded and silently went over to the table and retrieved what he had brought with him. Beneath the fold s of fabric was a latex replica of Dick Grayson, exact in every way down to every scar. He laid the dummy out on the bed while Nightwing removed the ruptured blood packs from his chest and back.
In minutes, Kaldur had the dummy dressed in Nightwing's bloodied uniform. He turned to his comrade and found the other man staring at the pair unconscious in the chairs. The look of regret and despair was plane on Dick's face and it tore at Kaldur's heart. "Nightwing, the stone?"
Dick started at the voice that interrupted his thoughts and turned away from the dried tear tracks that stained his little brother's face. Without a word he held the diamond out for Kaldur and the Atlantean placed it beneath the collar of the dummy's uniform. The image rippled and a moment later it appeared as Dick had when he lay on the table. Well and truly dead
"We must go," Kaldur told the teen. When Dick didn't move he placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can still back out, my friend." It was a sincere offer and one he almost hoped would be taken just to wipe such a broken expression from his friend's face.
Dick shook his head. "You father believes you murdered me on that beach tonight, Kal. If I turn up alive he'll know and you… No. I'm committed to this. I just wish," he looked over once more to Tim and Conner and sighed. "This could break him, Kal."
"He will understand, Richard," Kaldur tried to comfort his friend. "When all is said and done, he will understand why we have done what we have."
"Maybe," Dick said with one last look to his little brother before turning to walk out of the infirmary, "but he'll never forgive me."
The pair walked out of the mountain, Dick looping a charm around his neck that hid him away. His skin darkened, his hair lightened and his eyes faded into a soulless brown. The changes were subtle, but enough that he would be unrecognizable. No one knew him as Dick Grayson, and for as long as it took no one else would.
Kaldur summoned his sub to the surface while the now disguised Nightwing sealed the mountain entrance again. He entered a series of codes that had been in place since their plan began to take shape a year ago and he was confident that no one inside would be the wiser.
"Renegade," Kaldur called, using the name of the persona that Dick had been building over the last few months. "It's time to go."
