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“Look out!” Nightwing yelled a second before an ear-curling bang! deafened the supposedly empty warehouse.
Hal quickly threw up a construct shield and ducked out of the way as an eerie green smoke overtook the room. It was thick, and in a second he couldn’t even see Nightwing in the middle of the room.
“Nightwing? You okay there kid?” Hal called out.
No response.
Swearing, Hal switched his construct to a fan in hopes of restoring visibility. When the smoke cleared, Hal was able to make out Barry and Oliver on the other side of the room, seemingly okay. But as he looked to find Nightwing near the epicentre of the explosion, he was instead met with a crumpled form far too small to be his teammate.
Carefully, Hal approached the figure. As he did, he was able to make out the kid―because on closer look, it was definitely a kid― curled up near the magical incendiary device. He was on the younger side, probably still a good few years shy of his teens. The kid was dressed in bright red, yellow, and green, and looked like he was dressed up to play hero. He wore a cape and what looked to be a utility belt, as well as a domino mask not unlike the one Nightwing had been wearing moments before.
“There’s a fucking kid here!” he called out to Barry and Oliver.
An instant later, he felt the telltale gust of wind as Barry and Oliver arrived beside him. They all took a moment to examine the unconscious child, and Hal used his ring to confirm that the kid wasn’t injured, but rather just asleep.
After a few minutes of frankly uncharacteristic silence from the group, Barry voiced what Hal was pretty sure they had all begun to wonder.
“He’s Nightwing, isn’t he?”
Hal nodded. Even if he hadn’t known that this warehouse was supposed to be the base of a smuggling ring specializing in time-manipulation weapons, Hal would have had a hard time missing the similarities between his teammate and this kid. They had the same hair and skin tone, as well as the same face shape. With the kid arriving in Nightwing’s place, they were almost certainly dealing with a case of age-regression bullshit.
“So, was he some kind of hero fanatic? His costume’s pretty good, but I’m not sure who he’s supposed to be,” Oliver joked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“I don’t think it’s a costume,” Barry countered. “Look at the material. I’m pretty sure that’s some kind of kevlar-weave.”
Sure enough, a closer look and another cursory scan with his ring revealed that this tiny, pre-pubescent child was in fact wearing body armour.
“Did either of you know that Nightwing was some kind of child hero? Because I was under the impression that he was pretty new when he started working with us,” Hal asked.
“I always thought he seemed too seasoned to be a newbie,” Oliver posited.
“Yeah,” Barry agreed, “I never really thought about where he learned to do what he does. He kind of encourages you not to question anything, doesn’t he.”
Wasn’t that the truth. For all the time that Hal had spent working with Nightwing in recent years, he’d never once heard any kind of backstory from Nightwing, not that Hal had asked. In fact, thinking about it then, Hal realized that he barely knew anything about the younger hero. Which was weird, because if you’d’ve asked Hal yesterday how well he knew Nightwing, he’d have said ‘pretty well’. After all, Nightwing, while secretive about his identity, was no Batman. He joked around with Hal and shot the shit about whatever, but Hal was realizing that in all that time he’d never divulged any remotely defining personal details. Nightwing was charismatic, easily likeable, and always there to help with a kind smile. And somehow he had convinced them all to not delve beyond the surface when thinking about him.
“I think he’s waking up,” Oliver noted suddenly, pulling Hal from his thoughts.
Sure enough, the kid was twitching, as though he was struggling to come to consciousness. A moment later he jerked upright, eyes wide and analytical as they took in his surroundings.
“Hey Nightwing,” Hal soothed, “You’re alright―”
Before he could finish, the kid’s tiny foot connected with his windpipe, leaving Hal gasping for air. By the time he caught his breath, the kid was gone, a ball of smoke concealing his exit. Barry raced away, but Hal had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.
“What the hell was that?” Hal asked, stunned.
“That,” Oliver said pulling Hal to his feet, “Was extra confirmation that that kid is not just a superhero fanboy. He definitely knows what he’s doing if he knew to go straight for your ring.”
Hal followed Oliver’s gaze down to his notably not-green chest. He was back in his flight suit, and his ring was definitely not on his hand. It was weird, because he was usually so attuned to the ring’s presence that he would notice if anyone tried to mess with it, but somehow the kid had managed to get it off without tipping him off.
“Who the fuck is this kid?” Hal questioned.
Oliver smirked. “Nightwing Hal, we’ve been over this. Or did the kid also manage to kick you in the head between knocking the wind out of you and stealing your ring?”
“Oh ha fucking ha, Ollie,” Hal deadpanned. “I meant, how is this kid so well trained when he’s practically still in diapers. Like, I know that Nightwing is ridiculously good at what he does, but I had no idea he’d been in the game for so long.”
Oliver shook his head. “I’ve traded tips with him before, you know, from one non-powered vigilante to another. Any time I brought up training, he focused entirely on me. I never even realized he was deliberately hiding something.”
“I think,” Hal offered, “That Nightwing is a lot more complicated than we thought.”
Oliver nodded in agreement.
“Now, if you’re done being lazy, we should probably go help Barry track down the kid. I already called for backup, and Supes said they can bring him to Zatanna, but it’s probably best we don’t look like we couldn’t handle a tiny Nightwing without help.”
***
Oliver made it sound simple, but Hal should’ve known better. They found Barry easily enough, but unfortunately they couldn’t say the same about Nightwing.
“I think he’s in the vents,” Barry explained. “I ran through the rest of this building, and couldn’t find anything. I don’t know how he did it, but I never even saw him after he got your ring. stopped here to think, but I think I got lucky because a couple of minutes ago I heard a sound up there.”
When he finished, he looked at Hal’s lack of uniform and snorted. “I like the new look.”
“Shut up, Barry.”
Together, they spent a good couple of minutes just staring at the ceiling. To Hal’s surprise, it actually paid off, when they heard the smallest tapping sound from above. Either the warehouse was infested with rats, or Barry was right.
“Tiny Nightwing!” Hal called out, “We know you’re up there, so you don’t need to keep hiding. We want to help. I don’t know if you remember, but we’re part of the Justice League, and we’re your teammates.”
There were a few moments of silence before the kid seemed to accept that his hiding spot had been compromised.
“I’ve seen your files. You’re too old to be part of the Justice League,” the kid said, voice riddled with distrust. “Also, you don’t even know my name, so why should I believe that we’re teammates?”
Okay ouch. Also files? That was mildly concerning, but probably a problem for another time. At least he’d answered one of the questions floating around Hal’s brain. If the kid thought they all looked too old, then he probably didn’t remember anything about his older self. As for the name, the kid unfortunately made a valid point. Hal had no idea what to call the kid if not Nightwing, but he should've considered that the kid might not have gone by the same name as his older self.
“Why don’t you come down so we can talk properly?” Barry offered.
A beat of silence.
“Hm. No thank you,” the kid replied cheerfully. “I don’t trust you, so I think I’ll stay up here.” He laughed, and the sound carried through the vents in a downright chilling manner. The sound definitely didn’t send a shiver down Hal’s back.
“Well, kid, If you’re staying up there, will you at least tell us your name?”
“Don’t talk to me like a kid. I’m not telling you my name if you don’t already know it. Do you think I’m stupid?”
Oliver bit back a laugh, and Barry shot Hal a look that screamed great going, idiot. Which was probably fair. Hal needed to remember that this kid was like some kind of tiny-ninja-superhero, and probably wouldn’t like to be treated like a normal kid.
Once again, Hal wondered who in their right mind decided to train such a little kid. He couldn’t have been more than ten, yet he was clearly plenty capable. While it explained Nightwing’s skills, it was probably a wonder that Nightwing hadn’t gone insane yet if he’d been fighting crime for nearly his entire life.
Hal sighed. “Can I at least have my ring back?”
“You didn’t say ‘please’.”
Oliver actually laughed this time, and Hal glared at him in retribution.
“May I please have my ring back,” he asked as politely as possible.
“No,” the kid replied smugly, “You may not.”
Just before Hal could honest-to-God lose it on a child, their backup arrived.
Batman and Superman walked in and surveyed the scene. Clark paused when he reached their little group, but Batman kept walking until he made it to the vent on the far wall. When he finally stopped, he looked up at the ceiling.
“Robin?” he called out, in the least gruff voice Hal had ever heard from him.
“139457 Zit” the kid’s voice called out tentatively.
“817235 Ka,” Batman replied without missing a beat.
A second later, a blur of bright colour dropped down directly onto Batman. Or, Hal corrected, right into Batman’s arms.
“B, I don’t know what happened,” the kid, or rather Robin, said as he wrapped his arms around the mass of darkness that was Batman.
The Dark Knight only pulled the kid closer.
“Shh, it’s okay chum, I’m here now.”
Hal would’ve thought he was hallucinating, if not for the equally stunned looks on both Barry and Oliver’s faces.
“You’re so old, B,” the kid said, though it lacked the mocking nature that it had when he’d said the same to the rest of them earlier.
Batman just laughed, something that Hal would’ve previously sworn him incapable of doing. “Well, I think you look pretty young.”
As he observed the bizarre scene in front of them, Hal heard Clark speak up.
“That’s something I haven’t seen in a long time.”
Hal shot him a questioning look.
“They haven’t been as close in recent years,” Clark explained. “But when Nightwing was young they were like this all the time. The Dynamic Duo.”
Hal hadn’t forgotten, exactly, that the kid was Nightwing, but rather been distracted by the whole Batman-showing-emotion thing. Clark’s words forced him to acknowledge it. He’d been wondering who had trained Nightwing so young, yet so well, and now he knew. There was clearly far more to the Nightwing and Batman’s relationship than the two had ever let on. Hell, if Hal didn’t know anything about Batman, he probably would have said that the scene in front of him looked practically…paternal.
“Don’t think about it too hard,” Batman’s gruff voice interrupted his spiral. The Dark Knight was walking towards him carrying a bundle of tiny Nightwing―Robin, he remembered― in his arms. As they passed by, Hal felt a familiar weight return to his finger.
Yeah, no. He’d definitely be thinking real hard about this, Batman be damned.