Nightwing's Daughter (Fanfic)

History Repeats

Nightwing’s Daughter – 10

History Repeats

“You don’t look like you slept well.” Those were the words that greeted me at the front door as I opened it to reveal a curly red-headed Chase. He walked over the thresh hold uninvited and splayed himself over the sofa.

“Come in.” I stated sarcastically as I shut the door in a huff. He made a taunting ‘Oooo’ noise. Seeking to change the subject I walked into the kitchen and offered to make him coffee, “Yeah, yeah sure. So uncle D at work?” I nodded, putting the kettle on.

“So what you here for?” he fanned mock hurt, removing the cream from the fridge and placing it next to the sugar. “Well I thought you might need someone today, what with your mums thirteen anniversary coming up I thought I’d come with you to… you know? The grave.” I nodded mutely, inwardly pleased that he was coming.

-N.D-N.D-N.D-

It had rained during the night, the graves were damp, the ground like a sponge, soaking up every spare rain droplet until the sodden surface seeped out water on contact with the bottom of a trainer or high heel, more often or not trapping the heel in its muddy green tendrils.

“Dame it!” I muttered angrily as my left heel got caught for a fifth time, Chase let a dignified chuckle escape his lips, “Come here.” Despite my best protests he picked me up and carried me the remainder of the distance to my mother’s head stone. He placed me down just in front of it. Dad had decided he didn’t want her in the Wayne plot, but with the other innocent victims that the Joker had killed over that money scandal. I think it was an attempt more than anything, to show that we were just like any other family, that we were just as breakable as them, and that we grieved despite our money.

I sighed and placed the Lily’s – her favourite flowers – on her grave, I heard Chase walk away, giving me some privacy, when he was out of ear shot I began to talk.

“Hey mom, how are things? I’ve been good… well mostly, I-I finished college early, I’m that smart. They’re gonna let me sit my exams early. Woohoo.”

“So you’ll never guess what? I met Poison Ivy’s boy a while back, he’s different from the others, with Arkham’s help I’m trying to turn him good. I had the first meeting with him last week, Dad was easy to convince mind you I have him wrapped around my little finger. I had to threaten granddad, I said I’d never speak to him again, he gave in eventually. I think we’re connecting over books, which is good. I’m going to go and see him later today; this will be the second visit.”

“Sorry dad isn’t here, he had work, he’ll come later. Chase offered to bring me for moral support, yeah he’s walked off, but he’ll be back, you would have killed him if you were here, he’s been so bad lately, he ran off to Peru and everything…”

minutes I filled her in on all the things she had missed this year, I went into detail over my transformation from ‘Sparrow’ to ‘Starling’ in particular. Chase was making his way back, so I brought the one sided conversation to a close. Standing up I took one more look at the grave when something caught my eye.

A card. His card. Right there, like it had been on the tree the day she died. The Joker.

 “What’s..?” Chase’s question died in his throat as he followed my gaze to a neighbouring head stone.  We stood there, the two of us, both unsure of what to do. I walked forward, going to pick it up. 

“DON’T!” I froze, the Joker had a habit of lacing his cards in all manner of nasty chemicals, I remembered reading one of Batman’s old case studies on a mob dealer that the Joker had a run in with. 24 hours after the argument, he was given a calling card with his symbol on it, on contact, his skin began to turn all manner of dark colours, it got into the guys veins and basically suffocated him, much like you would suffocate if you painted your entire body gold, your skin wouldn’t be able to breathe. That was the last thing we needed.