Nightwing: Legacy

Chapter 9.1

Snow fell over the ground. The pale and thin air created a white hue over everything.

Thomas stood, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, a pair of worn out converse digging into the snow covered road.

It was familiar. On one side an open field, and on the other a forest. He walked forward. The snow blew harder, and the wind made it shoot flat against his face. But he wasn't cold.

He felt warm. At peace.

But then everything turned. The sun rose and a terrible heat blew over Thomas. Beads of sweat rolled down his face and his vision went black around the edges. And the black vignette grew until he couldn't see anything.

When Thomas opened his eyes he was in a courtroom. It was dark, as if a dark movie filter were put on the room, and an invisible spot light illuminated nothing but the chair he was in. The tie around his neck was too tight, and the jacket of the suit he was wearing was too small.

He was sat at one of the front tables, as if he were on trial. The judge up top of the risers was turned in his chair. He was barely visible, but Thomas knew someone was there.

The judge turned in his seat and a new spotlight shined on him. It was Batman. But something was different. The suit wasn't right.

It was more armored. Futuristic, almost. The bat symbol on his chest was red. And he had a full helmet. With glowing red eyes. Yet he seemed so familiar. Somehow, Thomas knew the man under that helmet, and it wasn't Bruce.

"Hello?" Thomas asked. "Where am I? What is this place?"

A new voice spoke, a raspy and crazy voice: "Silence!"

A new spotlight shined, and in between Batman and Thomas, was a purple suited man. The Joker. He turned to Thomas, "the defendant will speak when spoken to."

He turned to Batman, "your honor, today I present to you the trial of Thomas Riley Wayne. The case of his life."

Pieces were put together in Thomas' mind. He was on trial, the Joker was prosecuting him, and his father was the judge.

Laughter filled the room. Not of the Joker, but a chorus of childish laughter. Thomas looked and saw a full jury box, filled with schoolboys and girls in uniforms laughing at him. His old school bullies.

He looked back as the Joker spoke, "your honor, my first witness. I call Dick Grayson to the stand."

A fourth light illuminated the witness stand, and there sat Dick Grayson.

"Richard, what do you have to testify to Thomas Wayne? Would you say he is a good person?"

Thomas looked at Dick. His inspiration. His brother. His predecessor.

"No, I would not. He's not worthy of my name. Damian is a better fit. He understands the role I filled. I loved him. Thomas Wayne is a murderer and a disgrace. He's not worthy of Nightwing."

Thomas blinked and a new figure was on the stand. He looked similar to Dick, but bigger. And a white stripe in the front of his hair.

"And what say you, Jason?" Joker asked.

"I never liked Thomas. I thought he was a naive, spoiled brat. He was a burden. I only cared for him to impress Bruce. I'm glad Thomas is dead. He deserves to burn in hell."

A new person now. Cass Cain: "Thomas Wayne is dead to me. I only wish I never wasted time with him. I wish he was never born."

Stephanie Brown was there, too: "I needed him. He promised to be by my side, and he left. I died alone because he was selfish. I hate him!"