Nightwing: Legacy

Chapter 11.2

A golden light flashed, but Thomas didn't move as Doctor Fate stood behind him. Thomas was still faced at the body at his feet as Fate spoke, "you didn't drink the Lazarus water. Why?"

Thomas voice was weak, gravelly, and pained, but Fate heard it.

"I had to give him the honor of a fighting chance," Thomas said.

"What do I do now, Fate?"

Doctor Fate looked at the boy, "you move on. You did not come this far to only get this far."

"I guess you're right."

"May fate tilt in your favor," The Doctor said, and with that he was gone, a flash of gold light behind him.

Thomas swallowed, standing up. The fight was over, but the smoke hadn't cleared yet.

***

Jason was talking with the others, his broken helmet in his hand. They had met up at the GCPD parking lot. Wounded were inside, but they spilled outside, too.

And piles of bodies were there, too, lined up and covered in tarp. Too many to count. Too many.

Some people were walking around to help the wounded, others were collecting dog tags. Some were just shellshocked.

Smells of death combated the smell of rain. Sadness and relief were in the air thicker than the Gotham humidity.

Jason was holding his broken mask, Tim held the pieces of his staff in one hand, Orphan's arm was in a sling, and Steph was zoned out, staring a 1000 yards into the ground.

They all looked tired, mentally drawn out, and like at any moment one might drop dead from exhaustion.

The sound of an engine filled the air, and the others turned as the Redwing set down.

A man clambered to the ground, holding his ribs. He wore a red shirt with torn sleeves and a mask, black pants and boots. He slowly walked to the others, who began to meet him halfway.

Jason was the first to speak, "what happened?"

"Where is Lee?"

"Thomas, there's probably something you should see."

They found Lee Thompkins in the Medical Examiner's room, holding the hand of a body on the table and crying her eyes out.

Thomas shut the door before Jason could follow him inside.

"Lee?" He asked, his voice small. She turned, and Thomas saw the man on the table.

He rushed forward as fast as his bad leg would allow.

"James? Come on, wake up."

His voice was desperate, grabbing at James's kevlar vest.

"Come on, wake up."

It slowly set in, the fact of his death. Thomas felt hot tears running down his face.

"What happened?"

"He had another heart attack. Passed out in the middle of all that war," Lee explained, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Thomas felt something digging into his leg as his pocket was against the table. He reached for the vile of Lazarus Water.

Lee looked at him, "what's that?"

"It can revive him. It's not much, but we can try."

"No, don't," she said as if it hurt her, too.

Thomas looked at her, "why not?"

"He's at peace. Let him rest."

"I don't want to, he needs to come back. Please, Lee. He can't be gone. Not after everything."