Kill the Disgrace (Young Justice/Batman Beyond)

Kill the Disgrace

Something about the Justice League felt cold, as if someone drained the light from every single member. Terry expected Superman and Wonder Woman extended an invitation-only out of some sort of obligation, nor did he enjoy the pitying look the man of steel sent his way every time the Kryptonian looked at him. Everyone else gave him the cold shoulder.

The one who gave the coldest was Flash.

Thus, when the communication device Superman gave in case Batman needed their help, or vice versa went off, Terry wasn't expecting the Flash on the other end. "Hello."

"The JL received a heads up someone's heading to Gotham to take you out."

"Glad to see you care."

"I actually don't. As I've said before, you're not Nightwing."

Terry frowned, letting the ire in Flash's tone of voice sink in. Becoming Batman was for some reason an offense to the memory of Nightwing. His few interactions with Flash involved the man spouting off the fact Terry couldn't ever live up to that man, as if that person was the light which got snuffed out. Even the memorial told him nothing, particularly since Flash didn't allow him time to stick around. "I'll still be careful."

"Don't say things like that!"

Terry's frown deepened, unsure of why saying such a thing would set the man off. He stopped short of the steps leading up to his mother's apartment, noticing a familiar face. The man sat on the step, dressed in a strange manner. The teen felt the corner of his mouth twist up. "Uncle D, what are you doing here? And why are you walking around in broad daylight with a sword."

"I came to see your mother regarding business I need to take care of Gotham. Your little brother is an adorable little puppy."

"Are you drunk or something?"

"Or something." His uncle looked up, his eyes widening.

"What?"

"Tt, you look like him."

"Whose him?"

"I've got to go." The man stood up, refusing to look him in the eye.

Of course, his uncle likely meant only one thing. "I know Warren's not my biological father, so who is?"

"He's dead. What does it matter?"

Terry turned, grabbing Damien's shoulder. "It matters to me."

His uncle turned, his eyes gone cold. The man gripped his wrist tightly, painfully. "McGinnis, if you weren't my nephew..."

"You'd do what? Something you regret? Do you and my mom hate my real dad that much?"

"Hate? What I hate..." His uncle looked at the ground. His grip lightened, lifting the hand up and away. "I hate everyone's forgotten what they did, your father and mother." So did his facial expression. "I might as well tell you, despite the fact my sister will despise me for doing so."

"Why?"

"I say it's your right to choose the say path as them, not your mothers."

"What path?"

"Once upon a time, your mother was known as the Huntress?"

"Who?"

"See. Everyone's forgotten them. What they did, particularly what he did."

"What are you..."

His uncle started moving away, pulling his hood closer. "I've got business to attend to, so I'll leave you with the fact Huntress had a singular night of passion with the superhero Nightwing. You are the result of that night. Figure out the rest on your own."

The young vigilante froze, his mind contemplating his uncle's words. Terry's head snapped up. About half-an-hour later, he found himself contacting Flash, letting him know he wished to speak to Superman and that he would meet him at the Nightwing statue. He was upfront that he wanted information on Nightwing. He stood there, waiting.

A voice from behind sent a shudder down his spine. "So, you further desecrate his name?"

Terry turned, barely dodging the katana levied at his head. He felt a sharp pain in his cheek, making him realize how close the person came. Batman had little time to take in his foe, before finding the need to bend over backward as the blade came inches from impaling him in the center of his chest. Terry rolled sideways, crashing towards the ground, dodging the thrown projectiles hurtled at him.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted getting a grasp on the situation. The young vigilante's bright blue eyes caught sight of the hilt, instantly recognizing the motif. "Wait a sec."

"I'm not waiting. The mantle doesn't belong to you! Or hasn't anyone told you that?"

Flash for one. Terry felt the blade pierce his shoulder painfully, his hand shooting up in an attempt to grab the sword. He'd wondered how the person meant to assassinate him managed to sneak in, yet his mind already knew. Pulling back, he dodged again, this time feeling the sword slash across his chest painfully as he stepped back. He stumbled, crashing into a sitting position, thinking he'd not inherited any of the grace of Nightwing.

Narrowing his eyes, he swept forward, swinging his leg out in an attempt to knock his opponent to the ground, remembering seeing said move in one of the video's he'd watched of Nightwing. The man dodged backward with ease, making Terry curse his lack of training, before feeling the blade pierce through his chest into one of his lungs.

Worse, his opponent kept pushing him backward, slicing at various parts of his body, making all to clear the man was attempting to toy with him. "Wait." His breathing became ragged, his energy draining. "It's not..."

"Not what I think? Do you think I want to hear that?" Terry stumbled, finding the blade at his throat, still struggling to breathe, knowing the next blow could kill him. However, he needed to say something, before the man made a mistake he regretted.

"Wait."

"I'm not going to wait. However, I do want to see your face before I kill you." The man knelt down, still keeping Terry at the disadvantage, his hand reaching out for the mask, yanking it back.

His life flashed before his eyes.

Almost.

Instead, something red flashed by him, knocking his opponent against the wall. The orange haired speedster spoke, anger in his voice. "You're the one wanting to kill the kid? I don't like the fact he took over the mantle instead of Nightwing, but I'd never sink that low."

Terry watched Flash pull back his fist to punch the man. He gasped out the words. "Stop. Don't."

Flash turned his head. "He tried... what the hell."

Whatever distracted the Flash allowed his opponent to push away. Terry closed his eyes, thinking the man would attack him again, yet the clattering of the sword on the ground made his eyes snap open. The man knelt over him, one hand touching Terry's face lightly, while the other removed the mask covering the person's eyes.

"I am so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know it was you Terry."

His uncle's green eyes looked down at him filled with definite guilt. Flash hurried over. "Let's get him to medical."

Both men lifted him up. "When you said you wanted information?"

"Yes."

"If he were here, he'd say this was totally not asterous."

Terry wasn't sure what that meant.