| Not Expecting You | |||||
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| What: Edward comes home to find he has a visitor waiting. Just not the one he thought he did. | |||||
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The problem with solving a case for a brothel-owning Banshee who was hundreds of years old? You came home from dates late at night, rumpled, and pleasantly exhausted. He checked in on Johnathan -- who was doing well adjusting to be a very wealthy latch key kid (and face it -- who was going to keep the baby assassin tied down if he didn't want to be) -- had already finished his homework, and settled in to play some video games. Edward and the boy chatted briefly, before Edward went upstairs and left the boy to play Watch Dogs in peace after a good laugh that could be summed up as 'combat doesn't work that way' 'neither does hacking'.
Upstairs, he pulled his tie loose and rolled his shoulders, pulling off his jacket. He wondered how many case inquiries and emails he'd need to look at now...
Sometimes being the first son of Batman had its perks and sometimes it just turned out to be a waiting game. It came with a host of expectations and more than a small share of indulgences, but the top of that list is being places where people hardly expected.
Nightwing has probably been sitting upstairs waiting for Edward for the better part of the night or maybe he's been tailing him all night and just puts on airs that he's been here all night. Which ever case is accurate, he's thereon the window seal, barely even trying to conceal himself in the limited light spilling in through from the park. His arms are crossed and his feet are up on the side seal, crossed at the ankles, "Burning the midnight oil, Eddie?"
It's not the deep growl of the father, but the softer tease of the wonder. "You're looking pleased with yourself."
Edward would never admit to yelping. or tripping over his chair and grabbing for one of his trick canes or... any of that. (He did all of those things.) Instead, he righted himself, and then the chair, and sighed heavily as he dropped into it. He laid his cane over his legs, letting his fingers toy with it's brassy head to give him something to do with the sudden nerves that his visitor had rattled.
"Jeannette's a very grateful client. Normally I don't mix business and pleasure, but..." he waved one hand, dismissing the obvious that there was totally business, but he was recovering from the pleasure end of the equation. "You're not who I expected to be lurking in my window, though. What can I do for you, Nightwing?"
The wayward Wonder swings his legs down and hops off the edge of the window seal. The silhouette of his armor blends easily in the limited light, but he's no disappearing artist, "Who were you expecting?" Asked more out of curiosity than any real need to know the answer to the question.
"Truth be told, I'm putting a case together on someone and I heard your help was in season. It's across the bay in Bludhaven, so you don't have to worry about crossing the streams." As he approaches from the otherside of the desk he pulls a thumb drive from one of the small pockets discretely hidden in his own utility belt. "If you're interested?"
"Not you. Though I've gone a month without the Joker showing up, so I count that in a plus column," Edward said, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the head of his cane.
The request, however, had his instant attention. "How about, I just cleared my major murder case. What do you have for me?"
Look at him! He's so eager and helpful! Like a puppy who sees the promise of treat if he shows off his best tricks.
Well that will get the goose, especially for anyone who has ever been on the business end of a visit from the Joker. Several of Dick's closest friends have found their lives forever changed by that maniac.. Grayson's life has been changed as well. Everything the clown touches turns to ash.
So he understands the concern, even if his expression; what little of it is visible, remains stoic.
"I'm sure you heard about the murder of Angel Marin?" Still holding the thumb drive up between two black fingers as he explains what information it contains. "He had Bludhaven's criminal element held firmly in check... which was a problem under his reign, but is even more so now that he's dead." It's no secret that Nightwing has taken over duties in Bludhaven. Coloring it his own private stomping grounds like Batman has for Gotham.
"Someone is taken over control of the operation. I want to find out who it is. They're covering their tracks and have just about every criminal in their pocket at some level of the pyramid, but nobodies talking."
Pausing, "It's dangerous, Eddie. This guy isn't the Joker. He's not going to play with his food... I wouldn't bring this to anyone if the other option weren't so polarizing." Going after a cop? That changes things... it doesn't matter how dirty he is.
"Bludhaven isn't my usual beat," Edward points out, brows lifting-- but he's already thinking. Settling back in his chair, he steepled his fingers, thinking. "That doesn't mean I don't know a guy who knows a guy, or finds answer... I'm just saying they don't take kindly to our colors... anymore than, say, Gotham welcomes the metahuman set that quickly."
He extended his hand for the drive. "And a ex-criminal turned detective gets mixed up in something, that's just the vigilante gig. A cop-- that turns it into riots that can spill over into Gotham's streets..."
His green eyes darted sharply to the side. "I got a thirteen year old downstairs. I'm -- not a father, but somebody is depending on me to be home at the end of the day, check his homework, and make sure the cult that raised him doesn't come looking to cash in on his training. I can't in the crossfire on this one. I can help you--but for once..."
He absolutely had to stay off the radar. THis wans't a one-shot like it was for Jeannette. This could have real, reaching consequences.
This could hurt Johnathan.
The truth of everything said isn't a consideration Nightwing hadn't weighed, but the alternative could reach into Gotham just as easily. "Whoever this guy is, he's smart, ruthless, and has the entire city criminal element on lockdown. He's not colorful and he doesn't care for the spotlight, what happens if a guy like this spills over into Gotham's streets?"
Dick shakes his head slowly and looks in the direction of the stairs leading down to the lower level where 'Johnathan' is playing video games. "I'm not trying to get you fully mixed up in this, but the usual tactics aren't effective in this case. They aren't scared of us..." He says this like it isn't 'entirely' a new concept, but certainly an important one. "I have to figure out who this guy is before things get out of hand.. and I have to do it quickly. You're good at looking at the pieces and seeing the solution and if there were anyone else I could ask, I would." For any number of reasons.
Old habits die hard. For his entire young adult life, Edward was not an ally.
He extends his hand holding the thumb drive. "That's everything I've collected. Which, I'll warn you, isn't much. All I need is a weak link in the chain and nobody ever knows you were involved. I promise that."
Edward's eyes narrowed sharply, even as he went for the thumb drive.
"You ever think-- that you bats would do better with people like us if maybe you realized that justice occasionally has be tempered with compassion and forgiveness? Not forgetfulness--" he touched his jaw, remembering torture he'd endured at the hands of his former allies, back from his rogue days, "...but, you know... trying to pretend that you're not waiting for all of us to snap right back to what we were?"
TIt stung. His ego smarted. Nobody liked being reminded of their screw ups, least of all Edward Nygma.
"Give me a way that isn't the Signal to get ahold of you. I'm assuming you're-- no longer staying at the manor." It was an honest request for information, as well as a reminder of the potency of the brain that Nightwing was hoping to use. Edward knew, and was not afraid of that knowledge. (At least, he told himself he wasn't. Not anymore. This might not be the most honest thing that Edward told himself.)
Nightwing occasionally found himself reminded that on occasion the words that came out of his mouth, weren't his own. Sometimes, Bruce spoke through him, no matter how hard he tried to tell himself he was a different person... The Bat had that effect on everyone. Nobody can stand in that personality and not adopt some of the mannerisms from time to time.
It's a large part of the reason he had separated himself from the Dynamic Duo.
He didn't want to end up like his mentor.
Even if there were worse things he could be, Dick wanted to hold onto that part of himself that still believe that the world had color and wasn't defined in shades of black.
Edward snaps it home pretty hard... "You're right, Eddie. I'm sorry. I am trying.. you have to know I'm trying. Gotham can color your visor dark and you just start seeing things that way, but you haven't given any indication that you've done anything that should warrant that kind of treatment." Dick has, and will always be, the most reasonable of the family.
Then there's the reminder of who he's talking to and the shields come back up. To think Nygma could ID Bruce and not Grayson? Absurd. Dick was smart in his own right and he didn't get this far by making assumptions..
Nor by poking the bear. So he has no intentions of starting now.
The thumb drive is handed over, "There's a way to contact me on the thumbdrive." A digital two way linked to his wrist computer. Enough data to send message, but little else.
"Thanks Eddie. I mean it."
"We're all trying here. That's the point, I think," Edward said as he turned the drive over in his palm. "But you defeat a few city-spanning threats and someone turns around and calls you the last person they'd go to, they think you don't like them very much. My time's been done. I'm better now."
HE sincerely wanted to believe that, to. That it could be fixed with some brain damage and good deeds. And maybe part of it could be. But Edward didn't want to have a heart to heart; his glow was harshed and he had work to do now. The work! He did love his work...
"I'll be in touch, then," he said, as he reached out to press a key, wake up his computer. "Stay safe. I mean that, too."
There are a few things about being the first son of the Bat that just came with the territory. Nightwing listened, he had to have listened, he was only right there on the otherside of the desk while Nygma turned the thumbdrive over in his palm, but he said nothing.
No farewells, because no matter who Nygma was now and who Dick hoped he still was, they weren't friends. That would take more than promises or hopes and dreams. That would take time.
Now they were business partners, even if for the short term.
When Edward finally looks up from waking his computer, Nightwing is gone, but he's not so jaded as to leave the window open to let in the night air. He wasn't born in a barn. There's a rustle of curtains and then the near silent click of it closing behind him as the indication that Edward is alone to get to his work.
While Nightwing returned to his.
Neither Bludhaven nor Gotham would take care of themself.