Gifts - Chapter Two

By: Marla F. Fair

Dick Grayson sat in the sun near one of the massive windows that fronted the vast southern lawn of the newly restored Wayne Manor, watching the sunlight play off the roof of the solarium and bounce from treetop to treetop, casting long shadows across the lush green grass. Diana was outside with her son, Bruce, attempting to keep him quiet and out of the way. Or perhaps just trying to keep another little boy out of mind.

As if that would be possible.

Clark as Superman was out looking for John. Had been looking for John. Every minute. Everywhere. But he had found nothing. No sign. No demands. And thank God, no body.

The man who spent his life winging off skyscrapers and playing tag with super-villains felt his knuckles go bone-white as once again a wave of impotence swept over him. They would not let him go. At times it seemed they would not even let him think. He was being drugged. Oh, it was for his own good ~ doctor's orders ~ to keep him immobile so the now dormant mechanical 'bugs' in his system would not wake, but still it angered him. No, it infuriated him. This was his child. His fight.

His right.

Since he had awakened there had been a constant stream of x-rays technicians and specialists from STAR labs parading through the recreation of his old room. They had all certified him as healthy, but none would take the responsibility of swearing he would stay that way. None would say for certain that the small creatures which had been planted in his bloodstream were not simply ticking time-bombs waiting to explode.

He had begged Clark to burn them out. Pleaded with Bruce to use the high-tech medical equipment in the cave, to let him make that decision ~ to take the chance ~ but he knew by the look on their faces that they were afraid.

Superman and Batman, afraid.

Afraid he would die.

Bruce had told him he believed the nannites were merely lying dormant. He had looked at one of them in the cave and believed the technology far too sophisticated for them to have mastered its complexities so quickly. And so, while others searched the air, sea and land for his tiny defenseless son, he had been consigned to a chair like an invalid, forced to watch the sunlight play off the tiles and the wind sweep the grassy lawn, and to wait.

If that wasn't death, he didn't know what was.

No more.

Seventy-two hours before his son had disappeared.

Twelve hours after that he had awakened to find his life forever changed. Waked to find a bevy of doctors buzzing about him and his family treating him as though he were made of fragile clay.

Twelve hours after that he had begun to systematically skip every other dose of medicine they brought him, allowing his mind to take over controlling the pain.

Today he had taken nothing. No drugs. No food as well, for he couldn't be certain they were not lacing it as well fully expecting that he might try to do exactly what he was doing.

Escape.

He was hungry but his head was clear. It was also pounding like a jackhammer on concrete.

Good. A grim smile lit his face. It would keep him alert.

Today he went after his son.

He hadn't seen his wife in two days. As soon as she had known his condition was stable and that he wasn't going anywhere, she had joined the hunt. His daughter Mar'i had volunteered to look after him, but even at twenty-two, she was still a child. It wouldn't be hard to deceive her. Dick Grayson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really didn't want to trick her, but they had left him no choice. Their compassion and concern were killing him. He couldn't just sit here sipping sodas and staring at shadows as if his life was already over. He had to be on the move. He needed to be on the move.

God willing, he would survive long enough to find his son.

Eyes still closed he offered a silent prayer to the One he had made peace with years before. After Kory had been returned. After his own death and resurrection. His wife had always been deeply religious. Her belief was an inspiration to him. After long years of rebellion and pain, he finally understood that it was simply no good to be alone.

"God. X'Hal. Whatever you choose to call yourself. My child is out there, somewhere. In the arms of a madman. Grant me the time to bring him home."

Bruce and Clark were good, probably the best, but there was something they were not.

John's father.

He had to find his son. Dick shifted in the chair and started to rise, but then he heard a light footfall outside the door and knew Nightstar was on her way in. Relaxing his white-knuckled grip on the arms, he leaned back and adopted a dreamy air.

His daughter entered, her long black hair waving behind her, the usual tray in her hands. Placing it on the table beside him, she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead just above his scar. "How are you today, Dad?"

He glanced at her absent-mindedly and then turned back to the view through the windows. "Just fine. And you?"

"Great." She couldn't look at him. Her heart was breaking, both with fear and hatred of what she was forced to be a part of.

"Any news?" he asked quietly.

Mar'i frowned and looked out the window. The lawn was empty now. Diana had either joined Clark and the others on the hunt or come inside. Little Bruce was going to stay with his Aunt Barda. She was mending and they all felt it would do her good to be trusted with her friend's small son. She had not forgiven herself for failing or for forgetting. When she had awakened, she had found her memory blank. All she could recall was a curious noise at the window and a faint blue glow about the child. And then nothing.

Nightstar sighed. " 'Fraid not. Ibn has added his forces, but so far there is nothing. No clue. It's like John's just disappeared without a trace." She turned to look at him finally, tears in her blank green eyes. "God, Dad, why did this have to happen?"

Dick Grayson gritted his teeth against the pain.

"God only knows."

She moved to face him and knelt in front of the chair. His apparent weakness disturbed her almost as much as what she was doing, though she knew it was right. It was the only way to keep him alive. He could be so, well, stubborn some times

Noting the pain that pinched the corners of his blue eyes she asked, "Are you in pain, Dad?"

He drew a breath. "A little."

His dark-haired daughter frowned. "Is it your head?"

"No." He bit the word off. "I was thinking of your brother."

She bit her lip. "Clark is looking for him. And Diana." Her hand went to his knee and she gazed up at him, looking as she had when she was only ten years old and he had still been her world. "Dad, you couldn't do any more than they are. Grandpa said so."

Dear Bruce, he laughed silently, still trying to best the Grim Reaper. Without warning, he changed the subject. "How is your Mom?"

"Worried about you." Nightstar answered instantly, meeting his keen blue eyes. She held them, her beautiful young face deadly serious. "Dad, don't even think about it. Don't try to do anything dangerous. Mom's beside herself already. If something happened to you." She hesitated, lifting her hand to his cheek. "Dad, I almost lost you in the war. I had to watch you die in that cave in Africa. I don't know if I could stand it if anything happened."

"Nightstar." His fingers closed over hers.

"Dad, please? Promise you'll stay put?" Her enormous jade-green eyes grew moist and she sniffed as she took his hand in both of hers. "Daddy? Please?"

Dick Grayson stared out the window again, his brow deeply furrowed in spite of the fact that it hurt like hell. Glancing at his shaken daughter he made a decision to do something he had rarely done in his life.

He lied.

"I promise," he whispered and then thought, "God forgive me. She never will."

Nightstar stared at him a moment and then beamed. She rose and kissed his hair, then handed him the tray and headed for the door. "There's a big meeting tonight here at the Manor. Everyone is to be gathered. I think Grandpa might let you come. I'll ask" She stopped, looking at the dejected figure by the window. "No, I'll tell him he has to let you come.

"Dad?"

He turned slowly and looked at her. What she said went straight as a dagger to his heart.

"Thanks. I love you."

Swallowing hard, he nodded. "I love you too, Mar'i. Always remember that. I love you too."

Half an hour later he was gone.

Continued in Chapter Three