Disclaimer: All characters belong to DC and Time/Warner; this is an original 
story that doesn't intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome.

Copyright August 2000

****

You Gave Me Wings
By Syl Francis (efrancis@earthlink.net)

****

"I see them."

"How many?"

"Only thirty--maybe forty, but who's counting?" The cocky reply was all 
Nightwing. I rolled my eyes. 

"Oh, brother," I muttered.

"What's that, Babs?" he asked distractedly.

"I said, watch your butt, former Boy Wonder," I replied sharply. "I'd hate to 
have to tell Bruce that you became the 'former Nightwing' on *my* watch."

"Nag, nag, nag," he said good-humoredly. "Oh, Babs if anything ever *does* 
happen to me--?"

I gasped. "Dick, don't even *joke* about it!"

"Who me? Joke? Since when?" His amusement came through clearly. How could that 
idiot always be laughing at the world, I wondered? 

"Anyway, there's something I want you to give Bruce for me. It's on the top 
shelf in Dr. Fledermaus' closet. A box clearly marked for him. Will you?"

"Dick!" I was stunned. "We are *not* having this conversation right now, do you 
hear me?" The last thing I wanted to *think* about, much less *talk* about, was 
the possibility of anything ever happening to him.

There was a short silence from the other end. I instantly regretted my words and 
was about to apologize when he beat me to it.

"Sorry, Babs," he said, his humor sounding a little strained. "We'll talk later, 
okay?"

"Dick--!" I began, but he cut me off.

"Sorry, gorgeous," he said. "But there's criminal activity afoot, and I'm just 
the guy in spandex to stop it."

"Dick--!" I cried. But it was too late.

"Nightwing out." He abruptly cut the transmission from his end.

****

"Babs--!" The weak voice barely registered on my audio pick-up. "Babs...!"

"Dick?" I called, my heart racing. "Nightwing, come in!" I shouted. 
"*Nightwing*!" As I called, my hands automatically flew across my keyboard 
trying to get a fix on Dick's signal. Something was blocking it. I couldn't get 
a clear ten-digit grid location.

I immediately called for help.

"Batman, this is Oracle. Come in, please."

****

"What was his last known location?" he asked.

"Warehouse district, Mealtide section. Near the municipal train yards," I 
answered.

"What was he investigating?"

"A possible arms shipment. He was somewhere in the tunnel that runs underneath 
the Narrows Bridge. He suspects that the smugglers have been using it as a 
temporary storage facility before the stuff's shipped off to the buyers."

"Got it," Batman said curtly.

I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I said the only thing I could think 
of. "I'll keep running a search, Bruce. We'll find him."

There was no answer from the other side. Bruce had already gone into lockdown 
mode. The only thing that would bring him out of it was finding Dick alive. I 
wouldn't think about the alternative.

****

"Hey, Barbara! Got anything for me?" Robin's light-hearted voice rang in my 
headset. "I just snuck outta the Brentwood Prison compound and hitched a ride to 
the city on the top of a semi!" 

"Sorry, Tim," I replied, still conducting my fruitless search. "I'm pretty busy 
right now."

"Anything I can help with?" he asked hopefully. 

About to say 'no,' I quickly changed my mind. I filled him in on the search we 
were conducting for Nightwing and the gun-smuggling operation he'd interrupted.

"I read you," he said seriously. "I've activated the Redbird. It'll reach me in 
about fifteen minutes. I'll be on my way to Bludhaven ASAP!"

"Tim?" I hesitated. "Tim, you have to be there when he--" I swallowed. "He can't 
be alone. Do you understand?" I knew that Tim understood I meant Bruce.

There was a long pause at the other end. Finally, Tim's too-serious voice 
answered.

"I understand, Barbara," he said. "I hope to God we're both over-reacting."

****

"I've found him," Batman said curtly. "He's under a collapsed concrete wall in 
several feet of water. Looks like there was a massive explosion."

"How is he?" I cried. There was no reply. I could hear the sounds of splashing, 
heavy breathing, and grunting. After several minutes, Batman finally reported 
back.

"Nightwing managed to don his re-breather before he blacked out," he said. "It 
was already in the red mark when I found him."

I gasped, waiting for him to say more, but he didn't. "Batman, how *is* he?" I 
demanded. Still no answer. 

"Oracle! This is Robin!" I didn't know that the Boy Wonder had arrived at the 
scene. "We've got him freed. Batman's doing CPR and mouth-to-mouth."

"Ohmygod," I whispered. "Oh, please--!" The silence from the other end was 
excruciating.

"Oracle, we can't get a pulse," Robin reported quietly. "We're moving him 
outside for transportation. Inform Alfred and Doc Leslie that they're on the way 
now. I'm gonna follow-up on the smugglers on this end. See if I can--"

"No!" Batman interrupted. "Take Nightwing home. The Batwing is fully automated. 
It'll get you to the cave. I'm going after the smugglers."

"Bruce--!" I began.

"Robin, get going. Take him home."

"Yes, sir," Robin quickly agreed. He'd turned on his visual so I could see 
Batman's stony look. The video pick-up caught a shot of Skirl Rocks, a craggy 
precipice on the Atlantic side of Mealtide. 

Batman's expression looked as dangerous as those storm-tossed rocks below. He 
stood without moving, an obscure shadow among the murky gloom of Bludhaven's 
angry seacoast. As the Batwing's cockpit closed over Robin, I caught the barest 
glimpse of Batman suddenly dropping to his knees.

****

He's gone. No! Impossible. He can't be. I was just talking to him. He was 
laughing. Like always. At me. At himself. At the bad guys. At life.

I waited in my darkened headquarters for the sound of his laugh. A sound that I 
knew had been forever silenced.

****

"Barbara?" 

I looked up at the monitor. Tim, looking terribly young and vulnerable, sat 
there. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose before I turned on the two-way video.

"How--?" I choked. I couldn't ask. If I asked then everything would be true. 
Final. If I didn't ask, then I could continue to wait. And hope.

Tim broke down. He struggled to be stoic--like Batman--but he couldn't. His best 
friend--the closest man he had to a brother--was gone. He shook his head. Alfred 
was suddenly next to him, his hands on the teen's shoulders.

"Miss Barbara, I'm afraid that Master Dick--" Alfred paused, a momentary failing 
of his immaculate composure. "--Master Dick didn't make it. Dr. Thompkins says 
that he was without air for too long. His injuries too massive. Have you heard 
from Master Bruce?"

I shook my head in the dark. Finding my voice, I somehow managed to whisper in 
response. "No. No, I haven't." 

Alfred nodded sadly. "You must find him, Miss Barbara." He looked up at me, his 
eyes reflecting the pain in his soul. "He won't be responsible for what he might 
do. Please, find him." I nodded mutely.

"I'll do my best," I choked.

"I-I'm sorry, but I must make arrangements," Alfred said sadly. "Please, excuse 
me." I nodded again, fighting tears.

"Tim?" 

He looked up at me, his pain almost too much to bear. Perhaps I shouldn't 
involve him further.

"Yeah?" he asked, wiping his eyes, trying to get himself under control.

"Are you up to a mission?" I asked, my voice breaking. "If you're not--"

"--No! I'm up to it. What do you need?"

****

"I need your help."

The voice on the other end was instantly awake. "What is it?" 

I explained the situation as quickly as possible, keeping my voice businesslike. 

"He won't answer my calls. There's no telling what he'll do." I paused, 
swallowing. I knew that my electronically-engineered Oracle voice hid most of my 
human emotions.

"I'll find him and stop him," the voice on the other end said with confidence.

"No!" I said sharply. "I want you to find him and watch him. Make sure that he's 
all right. You're not to interfere unless there is the possibility of loss of 
life. Do you understand?"

"No," he said honestly. The Man of Steel gazed back at me. His kind eyes 
expressed his sympathy and understanding. "But I'll do as you request. I know 
that Nightwing's death is hitting him hard, and I'm sorry. He was a fine, young 
man and will be sorely missed. However, should Batman cross the line--"

"He won't," I said, fervently willing myself to believe my own words. "He 
won't," I repeated after Superman signed off.

****

"I'm finished." Startled, my head shot up. I'd fallen asleep at my station 
again.

"Batman! Where are you? What happened?"

"I caught up to them." He didn't explain further.

"Bruce, where are you? I'll send help."

"I tracked them to a warehouse along the Avalon Hills section." He paused, and 
then spoke quietly. "Nightwing discovered their debarkation site and probably 
caught them as they were offloading the arms shipment. It's a hidden dock near 
Fireflaunt Mount in Mealtide. The dock connected to an abandoned railway tunnel 
that ran to their distribution warehouse in Avalon Hills." 

I suddenly heard shouts and doors being kicked open in the background.  

"The ATF just arrived," Batman reported succinctly. He finally turned on his 
video pick-up, and I watched as agents from the Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms 
federal law enforcement agency stormed the warehouse.

As the federal agents apprehended the arms smugglers and closed down their 
operation, Batman made his way to the roof and waited in the breaking dawn as a 
black shadow descended, welcoming him with an opened cockpit.

"I got one of them to talk," Batman said quietly. "Nightwing had taken most of 
them out. One of them got in a lucky punch and distracted him for a split 
second. Just long enough for another mook to fire a rocket launcher. Nightwing 
dived and rolled out of the way, of course, but the explosive hit the concrete 
wall behind him, and--" He stopped. After a long pause, he continued.

"He wasn't able to avoid the concrete boulders as they fell on him. The 
explosion must have weakened the Atlantic side of Fireflaunt Mount, because 
after the smugglers successively offloaded the weapons and got them ready to 
transport to their warehouse, the dock area started to flood."

Another pause greeted me. When he finally spoke, his voice was shaking from 
barely suppressed anger.

"Nightwing had been unconscious through most of the offloading. But one of the 
mooks said that as the water started getting higher, he saw Nightwing come to, 
but he was pinned under the boulders. He saw that Nightwing was injured, too 
weak to free himself."

Batman paused slightly. "He told me they all laughed. Thought it funny that a 
'pajama-clad' hero was about to take a long drink." He stopped again. 

"They left him there to drown. Nightwing managed to somehow put on his 
rebreather, but by the time I reached him, it was too late."

"Bruce--" I began.

"I failed him," he whispered. "I was too late."

****

"You were right," Superman said. "He needed to handle it on his own." He paused. 
"He did hold back--but just barely. I saw his rage, the desire for vengeance, 
but he held back. He didn't kill any of them." 

"I know," I choked.

"I checked them with my X-ray vision," he continued quietly. "There are several 
with severely broken bones and internal injuries--these men are going to live, 
Oracle, but they're not going to get any pleasure out of it for the next few 
months or so. Some may never get the full use of their limbs ever again."

"I know."

"Take care of him," Superman said. "At times like this, a man needs his family."

"I'll try," I said. "And thank you."

"I'm going home. I'll be in contact with you." Superman signed off.

****

"I think I found it, Barbara," Tim reported. "It's a small package, and it has 
Bruce's name on the outside. Should I check the contents?"

"No, Tim. It's for Bruce. Whatever it is, Dick felt it important that Bruce get 
it should anything ever happen to him. Bring it here, please. I'd like to give 
to him myself."

"You got it."

****

"I haven't looked at it," I said. "He wanted you to have it, in case--" I handed 
the compact disc to Bruce. He took it woodenly. Dick's funeral had been that 
day. It seemed so unfair that when my world was turning black, the day could be 
so bright and beautiful.

You sure picked the wrong season to leave me, Boy Wonder. Spring is a time for 
renewal, not death. I blinked in sudden thought.

"What is it?" Bruce asked.

"Today is March twenty-first. The first day of Spring. Dick's--"

"Dick's birthday," he finished. He was staring at the disc as if afraid it would 
bite him. His hand was shaking imperceptibly. I gently covered it with mine and 
took the disc from him.

"Here," I said, loading it into my computer. I turned my wheelchair to leave the 
room.

"No. Please stay," he whispered, his voice raspy. I looked up at him, but he was 
looking determinedly away. I wanted to say 'no.' I couldn't bear to see Dick 
again. Not so soon after--!

But I nodded instead.

I wheeled over to the keyboard and downloaded the videodisc. When everything was 
ready, I moved to the side and indicated a chair for Bruce. Showing no outward 
emotion, he sat down.

When he made no move to start the program, I reached over and pressed the 
'Continue' icon on the otherwise blank screen.

When the program opened, we were treated to the back of Dick's head. He 
immediately spun his chair around and greeted us with an expansive smile, his 
arms spread out on either side.

"Ta-da! Hi, Bruce! If you're watching this, I guess I've gone on to the Titans 
Tower in the sky." He smirked at his weak joke. "Look, I don't want to belabor 
the point, so I'll make this short and sweet. I'm dead! Get over it! Okay?"

Dick smiled brightly, but it was forced. He struggled with different emotions, 
until he settled into a serious mood.

"Okay, I know it won't be easy, Bruce. But I don't want you to go all dark and 
brooding on me and suddenly start leaving all the mooks in Gotham with a leg or 
an arm shorter than the other. I understand you have to mourn, but I don't want 
my death to consume your life." His eyes smiled sadly across the screen.

"I'm ordering you not to turn my death into an excuse to lock out Tim, Babs and 
Alfred from your life. Whether you like it or not, Bruce, they're each a part of 
our family and love you as much as I do." He clapped his hand playfully over his 
mouth.

"Uh-oh! I said it--the dreaded 'L-word.' I'm sure that all the superheroes 
who've gone before me are even now turning in their graves!" He gave a short 
laugh. "Don't you *dare* let Wally or Roy ever see or hear this disc, or I'll 
come back and haunt you so fast, your cape and cowl will--uh, well, I don't know 
what they'll do, but it'll be bad. That's a promise!"

Despite himself, Bruce's face softened just the teeniest bit. Dick laughed a 
little louder and longer.

"Ah-ha! Gotcha! I knew I could make the grim Dark Knight smile a teensy bit. And 
don't try going all stony-faced on me. I know I got you just now." 

A half-smile struggled to break through the corner of Bruce's mouth. I held my 
breath. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that Dick was in his Bludhaven 
apartment talking to us real-time, teasing Bruce into smiling--something he'd 
tried to do almost everyday of his life.

Smiling, Dick's dark blue eyes gazed openly at his mentor.

"Bruce, please don't turn my death into a monument. Don't make a visit to the 
cemetery your idea of a Saturday in the park. If I died in battle, then I went 
the way I've always hoped I'd go. Fighting the good fight. I have no regrets, 
Bruce. So I don't want *you* to blame yourself." He paused, struggling for the 
words that needed to be said. 

"Bruce, no matter what you're thinking right now, you *did not* fail me! So stop 
beating yourself." Dick leaned back and crossed his arms as if daring Bruce to 
challenge him on it. Holding out his hands, he took on a beseeching tone.

"You gave me a home, you trained me, you showed me the way. More importantly, 
despite your best efforts to the contrary--" He laughed softly. "--You gave me a 
father when I didn't think I'd ever want or need one. When I fell, you picked me 
up. When I didn't think I could ever fly again, you gave me back my wings. 
Bruce, we've had our ups and downs. Let's face it. You're not the easiest guy in 
the world to talk to." Dick looked down at his hands. He was clasping and 
unclasping them nervously.

"But you said it best once. If things did go wrong between us, or if we handled 
things badly, no one was really to blame. After all, isn't that the way it 
*always* is?"

Bruce looked up quickly, his eyes narrowed in confusion. Dick was simply staring 
back at him, as if expecting him to say something.

"I don't understand," Bruce said. "The way *what* always is?"

"Between fathers and sons," Dick replied, touching his monitor palm out. 

I lost my personal battle against the tears when Bruce tentatively reached over 
and touched the monitor with his fingers. Keeping his right hand over Dick's, 
Bruce covered his eyes with his left. After a moment, he regained his composure 
and looked up again.

"You're strong, Bruce. You'll get through this. Take care of Alfred, Tim, and 
Babs. Especially Babs."

My head shot up at this. I wheeled over next to Bruce and held onto his forearm.

"Don't let her hide behind that chair, Bruce. She has so much love to give, but 
she's too afraid. I've tried to tell her how I feel, but--" He looked down 
sadly. "Maybe I just wasn't the right guy for her. But if the right man *should* 
come along, Bruce, be there for her. Help her *let* him get through to her--!"

I couldn't listen any more. He'd been worried that maybe he wasn't the right man 
for me, because I wouldn't let him in. Because I wouldn't let him convince me 
that the chair didn't matter. His last thoughts were of me and of my happiness.

I looked back at the screen. Dick had stopped talking and was smiling again.

"Okay, I've already babbled on longer than I'd intended. And I probably didn't 
cover all the bases that I should have, but what the hey!" He shrugged boyishly 
and checked his watch. 

"Even though you're listening to this after I'm already gone, right now, while 
I'm recording it, I'm still very much alive. And I have a dinner date. You see, 
today's March twenty-first--my birthday! And my dad is taking me out to dinner. 
Just the two of us."

We heard a buzz in the background. Dick grinned from ear-to-ear. "That's him. 
Sorry, gotta go. See, he's a real stickler for timeliness. Some would even call 
him 'grim.' But I'm working on getting him to lighten up a bit now and then."

Smiling, Dick reached across the screen and the monitor went blank.

Bruce stared at the dark screen for a long moment, without speaking. Finally, he 
cleared his throat and stood up. He removed the videodisc from the computer and 
placed it in its jewel case. Wordlessly, he stuffed it in his inside jacket 
pocket.

I watched him in silence, unable to think of anything to say. Turning, he 
gallantly held his hand out to me. Slowly, I placed my hand in his.

"Barbara, would you do me the honor of going out to dinner with me? You see, 
today is my son's birthday, and I can't of anyone I'd rather celebrate Dick's 
memory with than with you."

I nodded, struggling to form the words.

"I can't think of anyone with whom I'd rather celebrate," I managed, "than the 
father of the man I love."

The End