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Dick craves Kory like a war-torn body craves peace.
The moment Dick puts on the cowl, Gotham rose up and smothered him in nightmares of her own making. He doesn’t need to be told that he is being pulled in every direction and he barely has time to think about his ex being off-planet. But he thinks about her, subconsciously.
It doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about her fully conscious, though. He thinks about her in moments, in flashes: when he wakes up midday, after a rough night of patrolling with Damian, and the way sun hits the corner of his bed reminds him of when they lived together; or when he buys her favorite kind of drink even though he doesn’t drink it often enough; or when he’s down in the Cave with nothing debilitating weighing on his shoulders and he’s reminded of her freedom, so far from his own.
Dick does think about her. Maybe not in the way she deserves, but in the way that he can. Jesus, he’s getting way into his head.
He and Kory broke off their engagement almost five years ago to the day. She’s been on Karna trying to find refuge for her people with the Gordanians after New Tamaran was destroyed. He doesn’t know if it’s going well or if she’s having trouble. They’ve lost contact with Karna several months ago, and he, Donna and Vic have been working with Hal to see how close they can get to reestablishing a line of communication.
He wants to know if she’s fine. They all do. But there’s a boulder in his stomach that’s making him worry about her and he’s probably on his way to getting a stomach ulcer from all the stress he’s accumulated in the past few years.
It’s been hard managing Damian, let alone the entire city Bruce swore to protect. It was easier as Nightwing to lead a team, have a life, be a hero. Not that doing any of those things were easy, but it didn’t feel as suffocating as it does when he’s wearing Bruce’s skin. Immediately after he and Robin rounded up the last of the escapees from the latest Arkham breakout, Dick got pinged for a new Justice League meeting. Orange—not urgent, but status pending. He’ll be going soon. It doesn’t sit right with him, appearing as Batman instead of Nightwing. He wonders if it’ll ever feel . . . not wrong, but more comfortable. He doesn’t know.
At least he’ll get to see Donna and Diana and Vic. Hal and Ollie will be there too.
It felt like it was only a few months ago when he was a little kid, holding his arms up for Clark and Diana to take him up to fly. It was simpler then—of course, being a child hero was never really simple, per se, but he didn’t need to worry about Hush, or Bruce’s child to take care of, or the entirety of Gotham’s rogues, or even League threats.
“Richard,” Damian says, breaking him out of his daze. Right, he was typing up a report after he brought Dent back to Arkham. Hell, he’s still wearing the suit. Cape and cowl off. Nobody could pay him to wear it longer than he should. It was too heavy. It was always too heavy. “Pennyworth never checked your injuries.”
Dick forces himself not to grin like a loon. Exhaustion ripples through his entire body and his ribs do hurt, but Damian looks like he’s trying not to act concerned. It’s cute. “Just let me finish this first, okay, lil’ D?”
Damian doesn’t move, just frowns a little more than usual. “I will stay and watch you finish.”
Dick types out a quick sentence that would probably make Bruce make him redo this entire thing, but Bruce isn’t here right now. He’s dead. “There. Done. Happy?”
Damian looks over Dick’s shoulder and skims it over. “Barely satisfactory, but I suppose it will do.”
Dick stands and winces minutely when his bones creak. Damian’s looking away but he grabs Dick’s arm and pulls him away from the computers. He can’t help it, he grins. He’s about to say something when his League comm beeps again and blinks red.
Fuck. Intergalactic threat it is. Damian immediately lets go of his hand and rushes to get ready but Dick stops him. “Robin, no—you’ll stay here.”
“I am not leaving you there with those imbeciles.”
“Listen,” Dick says, crouching down with barely a grimace. “If it’s a planet-level threat, I’ll need backup and I’ll want you watching my back. But if it’s something simple, I’m sure it won’t be worth your time.”
Damian has this glint in his eyes, like he knows that Dick is trying not to bring him to Watchtower. They stare at each other, ignoring the beeping of his comm, until Damian breaks away with a decidedly Bruce-like grunt. “Fine. I will tell Pennyworth of your whereabouts. Don’t expect him to save you any of his cookies when you come back since you’re missing the check-up.”
Dick ruffles Damian’s. It’s a testament to how much Damian has grown that he doesn’t back away, just scrunches up his nose. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Then Dick comes to his full height and puts on the cape in a smooth, practiced motion. He stands in front of the case where one of his earlier Nightwing suits laid, the one where the blue stripe ran down to his fingertips. He grabs the cowl and puts it on, looking away at his distorted reflection.
Batman stalks to the zeta-tube and disappears in a flash.
Dick knows that when he’s in Batman’s cowl, there is little difference between him and Bruce besides his height and size. Even then, with the stilts, he’s gotten pretty close to height.
There’s something about being Batman that’s natural. That’s one of the reasons why he never wanted to become Batman, why he tried so hard for so long to distance himself from him.
He had known Bruce the longest out of all of them. He knew what Bruce was like so angry, he dripped with rage, and it followed him out onto the streets. He knew Bruce when he laughed, unbidden, when Dick made the worst joke in the history of jokes. He knew Bruce before the years hardened him into something they couldn’t touch.
And Dick knew he took after Bruce too much.
So when Nightwing died quietly and Batman shouldered on, Dick rarely looked in the mirror.
When Batman enters Watchtower, he gives Mon-El a nod before sitting down in Bruce’s—in his seat. His seat.
The others trickle in, mostly the members capable of flight due to the airborne aspect of the call. But because of Batman’s status as one of the founding members and lead strategists he is always invited. And not to sound like Damian for a little bit, but they could use some brains over brawns once in a while.
Donna squeezes his shoulder, and though he can barely feel it under all the armor, his body becomes less tense. He can do this. They both give Vic a quick hi before they all take their seats. It’s an interesting group. The JL’s roster have changed according to the whims of the universe, but it’s weird not to have Clark near.
Green Lantern begins.
“Sorry about the alert, guys, but there’s an unidentified spacecraft approaching Earth,” he says, flicking a hologram up. “We’ve tried making contact but no one’s budging. It seems to be like some sort of small warship but there’s no guarantee that they’re hostile.”
“There’s no guarantee that they’re not,” Green Arrow offers, just to say what the others are probably thinking. A grim silence covers them.
“It looks like it’s from Sector 2828 which is off limits to Green Lanterns, but since the ship’s breached our sector, we can intervene if we need to.”
Dick says nothing but his mind is whirring. He, Vic, and Donna all lock eyes. Sector 2828 is where Karna is, where Kory and her fellow Tamaraneans are at the moment if he remembers correctly. He knows it could be a coincidence that the ship came from Vega, the same solar system in Sector 2828, but Batman is not one for mere coincidences. And even before Dick became Batman, he trusted his gut instincts. Right now, his gut is telling him something but Dick is too marred with questions to figure out what it is.
“Batman,” Diana says. “Any thoughts on how to proceed?”
Dick frowns. Strategy for this kind of issue seems fairly easy, but if Diana’s letting Dick take the lead on this one, he might as well go for it. “Take precaution, but do not engage unless they do. Wonder Woman, Troia, we’ll keep you in the sky. You two are our heavy hitters, so stay above and away from the ship unless called for. GL, you’ll need to repeat your demands for name and intent for visiting Earth while Martian Manhunter will be in the rear, invisible, if these beings are inorganic. Cyborg and I’ll be in Watchtower overseeing it all and I’ll have Javelin-7 ready for use if we need it. The rest of you are our ground support, just in case, so keep your eyes on the sky. Everyone keep your comms in and standby for further instruction.”
He’s an old hand at this—the leadership role. He’s grown into it over the years, becoming comfortable with the Titans, but it’s odd commanding a team of heroes where more than half are older than him, that have seen him as a child, basically. They don’t question him, though, which he’s grateful for. They all take their leave and Dick goes to find the spare spacesuit in Batman’s room. Vic heads toward the central computer, face grim.
Dick hefts the spacesuit on, grunting slightly as the weight of it shifts his ribs in a way that is totally not great, and he leaves the helmet off to the side. Who the hell told Bruce to create the bulkiest spacesuit on this side of Sol, it’s bordering on ridiculous.
Batman remotely turns Javelin-7 on while he settles into his chair, glancing at the monitors. Hal repeats the questions in English first, then start venturing into some of the other languages known in Sector 2828. The warship hovers just above Earth’s atmosphere and Batman’s getting a thermal reading of one life form on the inside. He frowns. Maybe a refugee?
The bottom hatch opens, and Green Lantern taps his comm. “Going in.”
“Acknowledged, GL.”
They enter in slowly and—
A burst of green energy blasts them out. Familiar in a way that’s concerning. Green Lantern is sent spiraling through space until he finally manage to get his bearings and fly back up. Curses leave his lips.
“Martian Manhunter,” Batman barks out. “What’s your read on them?”
“She is . . .” J’onn starts, “confused. Her mind is missing pieces—no, something is repressing them. There is a message implanted in her head. Its intent is harmful.”
“Do you know the language?”
“It is unknown to me.”
“Can you try to get a handle on her from this distance?”
“No,” he admits. “Her brain is too scattered, her mind is too broken. She would have to be willing, or else I could break her mind.”
“Batman,” Troia says. She leaves it open. They understand each other better than anyone.
“I know, Troia,” he says. His heart’s in his throat.
Mon-El interrupts, “I’m going in.”
“Give me clear visuals,” Batman says.
From Watchtower, Dick sees Mon-El fly in, helping Green Lantern push back against the energy bursts. When Mon-El reaches the interior of the ship, the sleek gray walls reveal—
Koriand’r. Beautiful, lethal, glowing so brightly.
“Don’t touch her!” Dick’s heart is pounding. “Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage”
Donna’s voice echoes his own. “No—Batman, we have to get her out of there.”
He should’ve known, he should’ve known, he should’ve damn well known something was wrong.
“The hell do you mean don’t engage,” Hal spits out, “We’re gonna be on the defense. You know her?”
“Troia,” Dick says, ignoring him, “Vic. Brief everyone. Mon-El, you have to get me on that ship. Fast. Javelin-7 is too slow.”
“Batman,” Donna hisses out, warning.
Donna, please. He closes his eyes before he just says a soft, “Troia.” It takes half a beat later before she gives him a terse affirmative.
Batman’s already putting on his helmet when Mon-El comes in, raising his eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything, just takes him in his arms and flies him out of Watchtower to the warship. Kory’s warship.
Fuck.
“The moment I’m on that ship,” Dick says into his comms, “GL, you need to close the bottom hatch.”
“Are you sure?” Hal pants, breaths coming out fast.
“Yes,” he growls out.
Mon-El opens the top hatch and Dick slides into the ship with a quiet thunk. He hears a faint sizzling sound which means his entryway is shut.
“I’m in,” Dick says.
It takes maybe a moment later until Hal says, “Bottom hatch is closed. You better come out of this alive.”
I will, he thinks. Hopefully.
Batman plucks his helmet off and turns off his comms. The hiss of air garners Kory’s attention. Her eyes are ablaze, so bright and green and empty, it’s so wrong. “Kory?” he tries in English, but it doesn’t do anything. He pulls the rusty Tamaranean out of his head and tries again. “Beloved.”
“Beloved? You are not Tamaranean.” Kory’s hand lowers, her head tilting. “Who are you?”
Dick wants to groan aloud. The extent of his Kory’s lessons started and ended with every term of endearment, the basic conversation starter, and what to say in bed. Dick had joked, “Those are the essentials.” He wants to shove his past self in a volcano.
He attempts to think through the Tamaranean language structure and says, haltingly, “You know me. You . . . forgot.”
Kory shakes her head but doesn’t move to burn a hole through his body when Dick steps closer. He raises his gloved palms and cups her cheeks. “Beloved,” he says again, softer this time. Something in Kory’s body ripples, her muscles relaxing. She leans her head down until it hits his cowl. Damned thing. He can’t even feel her skin. A year without seeing her, hearing her, touching her and he has this stupid cowl on his head. In English, he whispers, “Please, don’t forget me.”
Then he tilts his chin up and presses his lips against hers. It was a slow thing, chaste, but all Dick can think is remember, remember me, remember us.
When Kory leans back, she stumbles and Dick quickly helps so she’s grounded. “Dick?”
“Kory,” he exhales. “Kory, you scared—”
“Are you Batman?” Kori’s utter confusion makes him laugh.
Dick shoves off the cowl and breathes out a sigh of relief when she smiles. Her fingertips leave a trail of warmth that tingles wherever she touches him. “Yeah,” he sighs out, looking away. “Yeah, Kory, I am.”
“I’m sorry, Dick,” she says.
“It’s been a tough few months, but don’t worry about me. Kory, what happened to you? It’s been radio silence from you for months.”
The divot between her brows deepened. “I don’t—I don’t know. The last I remember clearly was the attempts at treaties with the Gordanians . . .” she trails off, eyes growing wide. “They are slavers. I was the first they took. They—my mind, they—”
Kory’s breaths are getting harsher by the minute. “Breathe,” he reminds her.
“My people,” she says, “I told them to find refuge elsewhere while I distracted them.”
“Martian Manhunter is on standby and can help you with your memories if you want,” Dick offers. “And the Lanterns could contact Sector 2828 Lanterns to see if your people are safe. Kory, hon, we’ll figure it out, okay?”
Kory lets her weight fall onto Dick’s shoulder. Her chest taps at the hard-plated chest that held the Bat symbol. The ache in his ribs have faded to the background. They stay like that, swaying slightly. “You called me beloved.”
Dick wraps his arms around her and blows a noisy breath out of his mouth, not able to find it all embarrassing to call his ex-fiancee his beloved. “Yeah, I did.”
“Dick, you must know I still love you,” she says into his neck. She lifts her head up and locks eyes with him.
“I know, honey,” he whispers, tugging a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I never stopped loving you.”
She sighs with her whole body. “I never wanted for you to wait for me. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone and—”
“Hey,” he says, flashing her a grin. “If you asked, I’d wait for you for a lifetime.”
Kory snorts and shoves his face in the other direction. “What movie did you steal that from?”
“It’s a song.” Dick wrinkles his nose in mock offense. There’s a lightness in him that he hasn’t felt in months. He grabs his cowl that dropped to the floor. “Don’s briefing the League that you’re not an intergalactic threat that wants to burn the planet to the ground. She’ll be pissed that she wasn’t the first person you saw.”
“Oh—Donna!” Joy brightens her every atom. “I’ve missed her so much.”
“Vic’s back at Watchtower too,” he tells her, just to see her smile again.
It’s incredibly rewarding to see it.
They get up and Dick switches his comms on. Lighter now, he jokes, “Threat neutralized.”
He doesn’t need to be the world’s greatest detective to know that Donna just stifled a laugh.
Kory raises a brow. “Threat neutralized?”
“Am I wrong?” Dick counters. He shoves the helmet on and twists it shut. “We’ll be back at base in ten.”
He nods at Kory and she goes to the control panel and opens the hatch again. Green Lantern, Mon-El, and Martian Manhunter file in. Wonder Woman and Troia will be close by. He stands taller and Kory threads one arm in his.
“Batman,” Mon-El nods his head.
Dick can’t help it; he smiles. “Team, this is Koriand’r, princess of Tamaran, also known as Starfire. She’s one of the founding members of the Titans and my ex-fiancee.”
“We’re working on the ex part,” Kory adds. She shoots them a dazzling grin that kind of still makes his heart flutter. Sue him, she’s gorgeous. “It’s nice to formally meet you. Sorry for trying to kill you there.”
“Let’s meet back at Watchtower,” Dick says. “Get this warship under lock and key.”
The rest of them introduce themselves to Kory and take their leave. She wiggles her fingers to him and he takes her hand instantly.
“Ready?” Kory asks.
“Always.”