The dumpster is open and there's garbage scattered on the ground — not an unfamiliar sight in Gotham, particularly in the East End. But there isn't a Nightwing in the dumpster. He's seated on the floor of the alley with his back against the side of the dumpster, staring and silent, looking battered but otherwise fine. His knees are drawn up loosely ( Read more... )

So much for a simple stealth mission.

So much for all his vaunted combat skills. He hadn't even quipped well during the fight.

Oh Grayson, now is not the time, he admonishes himself lightly. Not that I haven't been in worse situations. And not that I'll ever enjoyed being tasered unconscious...Restraints are old (if unappreciated) shoe, too. ( Read more... )

With the message sent — you've been compromised with Slade's nanomachines; come to to talk — there remained little to do but wait for the Titans to arrive. Dick had maintained typical subterfuge upon entering Robin's universe, despite the teen's assertion that Slade would know immediately. Whether not he would know was irrelevant. What was ( Read more... )

He's just in from patrol, a lively night with one D-lister safely put away for the time being. The action may be over but he's still preoccupied. He has to go through some cooling down stretches, shower, and get something to eat before sleep; first, however, he'll do a perimeter check. Something tells him he's not alone tonight. The subtlety ( Read more... )

The Nexus is, as ever, a refreshing change from Gotham or New York, but Dick finds that many of the available activities are strangely similar. Getting coffee, for instance. He should probably be sleeping, but patrol was quiet tonight, leaving him pointlessly energetic and wakeful. Though he changed to civilian clothing (as is generally his custom ( Read more... )