Chapter Text
The beep on Nightwing’s comm happened just as he decided to end patrol for the night. It was nearing three in the morning with the moon edging ever so slowly towards the northern horizon to show the eventual passage of time. Gotham remained quiet and still, not necessarily because of peace, but more like it was holding her breath. The restlessness tugged something in Nightwing’s heart while the hair up at the back of his neck suddenly rose. He tensed and glanced around but saw nothing unusual. Nothing felt wrong either, just a prickle of something that caused his shoulders to bunch in readiness.
His body sometimes reacted like this, and for a reason. Dick didn’t know if it was because he had been a vigilante more years than he was not, or if he somehow sensed something different in Gotham. Maybe both. Maybe neither. But something was about to happen and he was glad his brothers were out tonight to help, especially with Bruce off-planet on League business.
Well, two of his brothers were here with him. The third...
But no. He couldn't think about his lost brother right now. Because with that thought came an influx of emotions: anger, hurt, fear, guilt, and a host of others he couldn't even name at the moment. He still had a job to finish. With the beep of his comm activating, Dick waited for the unwelcome news on a Rogue breaking out of Arkham or some new meta foolishly trying to take over Gotham’s underbelly. And Oracle remained professional but Dick knew Babs and all her inflections. Her voice actually wavered for a moment as she spoke, which did nothing to dispel the unease growing in him.
But not for the reason he expected. “All units, attention. Protocol Wayward Bird activated.”
A breath caught in Nightwing’s throat. Could it be…?
“What?” Hood growled. “Are you serious?”
“Very,” Oracle’s clipped voice returned. The tremor had disappeared and in its place was the calm steadiness they had all come to rely on when they needed it the most. “He tried to hide his presence by sneaking past the cameras, but he hasn’t realized or seen that some of the previously inoperative cameras are now active. He’s slipping in and out of view but his presence is confirmed.”
“Tt, leave it to him to try to sneak through Gotham, as if we are nearly as incompetent as he is,” Robin’s voice sneered. “He will have to relearn who he’s dealing with.”
Hood’s voice sounded amused. “You gonna be the one to do that, Baby Bat?”
“We all will.”
“Sending everyone his last seen location, 14th and Ridgemont. I’ll update as needed.” Oracle’s no-nonsense voice cut through the brief wave of chatter, more effective than even Batman’s reminder. “Proceed with caution.”
“Copy,” Nightwing said after finally finding his voice. His heart thudded as he prepared to grapple the few blocks. “Four minutes out.”
“Five minutes,” Hood grunted.
“Fourteen minutes,” Robin grumbled. “Of course he’d pick the farthest location from me.”
“If he runs, we can herd him to your direction,” Nightwing said soothingly. All his motions remained smooth from years of experience swinging through the night, and yet his heart beat so hard he could feel it thrumming all over his body. While his hands remained steady on the grapple gun, a few observant people - like his family - would glimpse his legs shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Oracle wasn’t wrong. He had finally come back. And Nightwing would do whatever it took to make him stay.
The four minutes sped by and yet seemed the slowest passage of time ever. Oracle murmured that their target had moved a block and a half away, heading south. Hood would run into him almost at the same time as Nightwing would if he kept up the same direction.
In the back of his mind, Nightwing had the wry thought that perhaps being farthest from Robin was deliberate, after all.
But that thought fled as quickly as it appeared as Nightwing located the target as he made the final swing. The wayward bird had tucked himself in the shadows of a large, conveniently placed HVAC unit, a non-descript black cape draped over him and with the hood drawn over his head to blend in the inky darkness. He looked taller, as if having gone through one last growth spurt, head poking above the air conditioner.
Nightwing landed silently on the rooftop behind him, distributing his weight to ensure not a flicker of sound reached out to even the sharpest of ears. Even so, the shadow stiffened and Nightwing held back a sigh. Of course it was too much to ask that he would have the advantage of the meeting.
Neither moved for several long heartbeats. Nightwing slowly tensed his muscles, shifting into a slight squat to ensure an explosive takeoff the moment his target ran. And run he would, because that was what he had been doing for nearly three years. Three long years, wondering if he was dead or alive, happy or hurt or depressed or whatever else.
No more. Not when he was this close. Nightwing breathed in deeply, sucking in oxygen to fuel his body. He exhaled and said softly, “Tim.”
The last consonant barely left his mouth when the shadow streaked away from him, cape flapping behind. In six steps, he reached the edge of the building and jumped, causing Nightwing’s heart to leap up his throat. But a split second later, the gentle whine of a grapple gun shot out.
“Seriously, Big Bird?” Hood demanded, voice edged with exasperation. “If you had waited thirty more seconds, I would have been there to help!”
“He was going to run no matter what,” Nightwing murmured, taking off after him. His body, primed for speed, ran fast enough to almost catch the edge of his cape as it flared out behind Tim. Nightwing didn’t hesitate to follow his erstwhile brother over the edge of the building, shooting out his own line to follow him. “Target is heading south, deeper into Finger Hill. Hood, head over and cut him off so he’s running west.”
Hood grunted in response and from the corner of his eye, Nightwing saw the bulky figure of his brother from four buildings away running across the rooftop and swinging to catch up with Tim from a different direction. As expected, Tim immediately tracked him and instantly turned away, attempting to keep multiple buildings in between them.
But Nightwing and Hood had familiarity with these rooftops and it had been nearly three years since Tim swung around Gotham. Their longer legs also helped; no matter what growth spurt Tim went through, he was still shorter than them. Even Robin would be at least equal height to him, a fact that the youngest would no doubt point out as soon as possible.
Tim also ran as though he was guarding something. His ribs, perhaps, or maybe his leg. Although Nightwing couldn’t detect a single flaw in Tim’s stride, he noticed the slight hunch of his shoulders and the way his right leg wobbled slightly every time he landed. Whatever injury he was hiding, despite his incredible speed, they slowly gained on him.
No doubt their wayward bird noticed because Tim reached for something near his waist. As he jumped off the latest building, his grapple gun shot out. But instead of swinging towards the safety of another building, another grapple gun shot out, catching another building and allowing him to swing farther away. Then, the faint whine of the grapple broke through the air again. Tim kept moving, almost like a monkey swinging or a child in a jungle gym, until the distance between them lengthened.
“Shit, what the hell was that? Is the kid seriously using two grapples?” Hood exclaimed.
“What?” Robin snapped.
Nightwing didn’t bother to explain and ignored the astonishment and awe that surged in his chest. It was hard enough to grapple with the dominant arm because it required so much strength and accuracy on the fly. So to do it with both arms seemed almost inconceivable. Aiming alone required split second calculations and judgment on objects that wouldn’t crumble underneath the weight of a flying body. Just what had Tim picked up while he was away from Gotham?
“He's getting away. Oracle, redirect Robin to intercept the bird,” Hood said, drawing Dick’s attention back to their fleeing target. “Come on, ‘Wing, we can’t lose him now.”
Tim had pulled ahead enough to be a half a mile away, but when he finally landed, he paused. Both Nightwing and Hood noticed the heaving body and deduced using two grapples made him faster but appeared to wear him out quickly. The hooded figure glanced back at them, catching his breath and waiting until they were four buildings away before he resumed his escape. This time, he only used one grapple.
“Here’s our chance, baby bird can’t have energy left to use both if he stopped,” Hood said, new determination surging through the comms.
“Agreed.” Nightwing felt the twinge in his own muscles, having swung for miles already to chase after Tim, but Hood was right. Tim was tiring and it wouldn’t be much longer before he was completely exhausted. The trick was to get Tim to surrender before he tried to grapple away again and get hurt in the process.
They slowly gained ground again and this time, Tim kept shooting them looks which seemed like he was panicking. Finally, after another several miles, Tim landed on a rooftop and fumbled the landing. He fell forward and lay there for several seconds before heaving himself up.
Too late. Nightwing landed and Hood covered his right so they had Tim cornered at an angle. Tim glanced at them and then turned his head towards the edge of the building.
“Don’t do it, Tim,” Nightwing warned. “You’re exhausted and probably injured. If you try to grapple in your condition, you could get even more hurt.”
Tim scoffed. “And since when did you care about my health?” The voice, once full of awe and timidity for his heroes, now sounded low and bitter.
“I’ve always cared about you,” Nightwing snapped, taking a step forward. Tim compensated by moving back to keep the same distance. “No matter what you think, that’s the truth.”
“Well, forgive me if I don’t believe you,” he retorted.
“Baby bird, we all know Dickwing can be an ass sometimes, but come on. He cares about you. We all do.”
Tim shoved his hood back to reveal his face. The faint moonlight did nothing to hide the gaunt cheekbones, sunken to an alarming degree. Everything about him looked sharper than it ever had, from the narrowed eyes to the flinty tilt of his lips. Exhaustion seemed to pour out from his entire body and Nightwing didn’t know how he was still standing. “Hmm, believe someone who tried to kill me three times? Yeah, that’s not happening either.”
Hood flinched. “Okay, I deserved that. But I never got the chance to make it up to you. You ran, Baby Bird. You ran and didn’t even have the courtesy of letting us know you were alive.”
“Sorry, my postcard must have gotten lost in the mail.” The sarcasm still remained on point, as if any good Robin worth their salt would let that skill lapse. “But since you see I’m fine now, I’ll just get out of your way.”
“Wait!” Nightwing called and Tim actually paused. He breathed a sigh of relief; at least Tim was listening. “You don’t have to leave. Come back with us. Back home, Tim. Where you belong.”
Tim glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t belong here anymore, Dick. Everyone made sure of that.” With that said, he took three steps and jumped off the ledge but he didn’t show up swinging to another building.
Nightwing and Hood rushed over. Oracle murmured an update in their ears. Tim had already climbed down the fire escape, moving even more sluggishly. He almost listed to one side before one of his hands shot out at the last minute to steady himself before he fell off the steps.
The fire escape stopped approximately ten feet off the ground with the ladder folded up to prevent the wrong people from climbing up. It took Tim four tries of kicking the ladder so it extended and he could climb down safely. But just as he landed on the ground, another figure stepped out of the shadows, something gleaming in his hand. The shadow jabbed the object into Tim’s neck and, a few seconds later, caught the swaying figure as he collapsed. “Sedative administered. Mission Wayward Bird complete,” Robin’s voice said over the comms and echoed in the alley. Even through the distorted noise, his satisfaction was hard to miss. “Send the Batmobile to our location.”
“Acknowledged,” Oracle replied. “Batmobile incoming in seven minutes.” She paused, then added, “Excellent work, team. Protocol Wayward Bird is confirmed successful. Good luck with Protocol Robin Reintegration.”