It was a lesson that was, as most lesson were in Gotham, learned the hard way.
"Down!" Bruce bellowed. Dick moved. But not fast enough. He looked. He didn't flinch. He hesitated, he didn't act. He doubted. He should have trusted.
Something slammed into his side, hard and small and painful, ripping apart his muscles and shredding tendons. That was the day he learned what getting shot felt like.
He sacked to the floor, finally, hands pawing uselessly at his side as he wailed in pain.
Bruce was at his side in an instant, and they got home so fast it was most definitely illegal. It never happened again.
"Drop!" Bruce called. Dick hit the floor. He was up a second later, the sharp stinging smell of gunpowder still in the air. But the bullet had disappeared. Missed. Speared into the wall.
"On your left!" Green Lantern cried, swinging his arm around, the massive hand he'd crafted with his ring spearing forward. Nightwing glanced over, used the second to ground himself, and lunged away. To the right.
"You've gotta trust me in the field." Hal complained later. "It's no use for me to call out orders just for you to check yourself." Nightwing dipped his head. Acquiescing , but not an apology. Not agreeing. Not a promise.
"Twelve o'clock!" Batman barked. Nightwing didn't even let his eyes stray, just moved, rolling away from the incoming stampede of aliens.
"What the fuck?" Hal mouthed to Barry, but the speedster had hardly a chance to shrug back before he was off to take the incoming wave.
So he waited instead until after the battle, waited until everyone was safe and back the Watchtower to advance on the young hero.
"Hey man, what the fuck is up with you?" He probably should have kept his voice down a little, but the anger had been building, and honestly, what was up with him? Disobeying Hal's orders, just to drop at the first sound from Batman's lips? Wasn't cool, wasn't fair.
Nightwing glanced up in surprise from where he was sitting on the table, patching his arm, and so did about half the League. Batman, in particular, was watching, white lenses narrowed, but didn't approach.
"I get that Bats is super cool and all that," Hal waved a dismissive arm. "But when I shout orders in the field, you're expected to follow them. Same as everyone else."
He glanced over at Batman. "No offense Batsy." he returned focus to the man in front of him. "But you don't get to pick and choose who's orders you follow kid. Not here."
"Actually I do." Nightwing answered, and, damn, Hal hadn't expected that. An apology maybe, maybe a little bit of arguing, but not a flat out refusal. The young hero didn't even bother to lower his voice or anything. Didn't even attempt to look cowed.
"You're different Hal. You're a Lantern. I'm not." his finger thrust in Batman's direction. "He's not." Hal cocked his head, frowning. "Yeah, I don't obey your orders immediately. I don't automatically trust what you call to me. Because you're. not. human. Maybe you were, once, before you got the ring. But you're not anymore. You're not on the field."
He gestured at Batman, to himself. "We deal with threats on the daily. In the streets. On the field. You're a brilliant man, I know you are. But you're not thinking for me."
He held up his hand before Hal could argue that of course he was. "You try." He agreed easily. "But you don't. Not really." He cocked his head, struggling to come up with an example.
"Lets say this; you're a cat, and I'm a dog." Hal pulled back, face twisting at the strange comparison, but Nightwing gestured to let him finished. Hal relented.
"You, as a cat, order me to drop to the ground. Because you, as a cat, know that if you drop, you'll land on your feet." Superman was nodding, following his train of thought. Hal was still a little lost, but Nightwing wasn't finished yet, so he was okay.
"But let's say that drop is fifty feet. And I'm a dog. Dogs don't land on their feet. That drop can kill me. You didn't account for that, no matter what you might think." He shrugged, glancing over at Batman, who was puffed up a little, with pride.
"He's a dog. Like me. And he thinks like a cat, like you. He accounts for that. So yeah," Nightwing shrugged, hopping from the table, and took a few steps forward. Hal stumbled back.
"I don't follow your orders immediately. I chance a look. I risk a second of disobeying your orders in order to ensure it won't kill me. Won't do more harm than good. But I still follow your orders."
He glanced over at Batman, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"And sure, I follow Batman's orders immediately." He shrugged, heading over to the older hero, smile evident in his voice.
"But what do you expect? He's my Dad."
