| It's been longer than I expected. Thanks for waiting. Please, enjoy.

.Wings Come in Pairs - 2.

| Stark Avenue, BLÜDHAVEN

| July 23, 00:44 EST

"Yes. Nite-wing did this." Nite-wing responded proudly. His lips curled crookedly as he stepped forward, twirling the steel baton.

"Put the weapon down, son." Mullen instructed. Nite-wing pretended not to hear as he continued moving forward and towards the downed man. "Son, step away from him." Mullen said again, this time with greater demand. He inched forward himself, eyeing both the steel baton and shotgun.

"I'm one of the good guys." Nite-wing stated. "The good guys." He muttered and then paused. "Hero." His voice fell quiet. Too quiet.

"Son," Mullen warned guardedly. He extended his leg to kick the shotgun away but his foot never made contact.

"I'm good!" Nite-wing exclaimed, drawing his hand back. He sprung it forward with the steel baton ready. It caught Mullen's kneecap. The officer cried out in pain and faltered backwards, the gun abandoned from his hands as he used them in efforts to catch himself. Nite-wing continued his attack, taking the steel baton to the downed hooded man. "See what you did?" He exclaimed, frantically using the baton to the downed man. He then turned it to Mullen and interchanged beatings between the two.

Elsewhere, along the Red Line North, Bev chased after the hooded man with the pillowcase. The Red Line North's tracks were quiet, the streets below were poorly lit with few passing cars.

"Stop running!" Bev demanded, near out of breath. He was a faster runner than Mullen was, only a fourth block away from his purp; but still he couldn't catch up.

"I believe the officer said for you to stop running." Nightwing informed. He swung from his jumpline over the hooded man and drew his hand back, wing-ding prepped.

The hooded man looked up but that was one of his many mistakes as a sudden pain exploded in the back of his head shortly after Nightwing flicked his wrist. The man instantly fell to his knees and then lay motionless on his stomach with the pillowcase still in hand.

"You can't have that." Nightwing said landing nearly four feet away. He collected the line along with the pillowcase after securing the downed man's hands behind his back, cuffing them together. He then looked inside the pillowcase. "Wasn't what I was looking for," he sighed. It contained only money.

"Freeze!" Bev hollered. He breathed heavily and pointed his gun towards Nightwing.

"Woah," Nightwing said raising his hands. "Easy." He dropped the bag and kicked it over to the officer who took it.

"Step away from him." Nightwing obliged. "Mullen," Bev called into his hand radio. There was no answer. "Mullen!" Bev barked loudly in the hand radio.

"Hello?"

Bev frowned. It wasn't Mullen's voice.

"Who is this?" Bev said through the radio. He looked between Nightwing and the cuffed man. "You, stop moving." He ordered Nightwing who slightly leaned forward to hear the radio better.

"I'm one of the good guys."

After this statement, there was a chuckle that emitted from the hand radio before it came to Nightwing who the person was. He could hardly believe it.

"Nite-wing," both Nite-wing and Nightwing simultaneously stated. Without waiting to hear more, Nightwing broke off into a run while Bev was distracted. The officer hollered after him, threatening to shoot but the vigilante quickly took to the rooftops with help from his grappling hook. Bev didn't bother to fire his firearm.

Once on the roofs, Nightwing took out a small computerized monitor, barely half the size of his palm, from within a compartment of his boot. He turned it on, pressed a few buttons and then read the screen. This monitor would pick up the radio waves and aide him in finding where the other hand radio was but more importantly, it would locate Nite-wing who held the hand radio.

'What's he doing out of jail!?' Nightwing screamed at himself as he broke off into a run towards the location the monitor signaled another radio was located. He hoped Tad hadn't done anything too horrific.

'If anything's happened, it will be on you.' The voice of Nightwing's mentor entered his mind.

"I don't need that right now!" Nightwing told himself before he leapt across the rooftops and descended down into the alley. He somersaulted thrice after he used the fire escape stairs to descend at least halfway down to the alleyway. Instantly after he landed on the pavement, he sprinted forward but abruptly halted before he emerged into the open streets. He remained back, taking in the scene before him.

"This can't be happening." O'Hara said, pacing in front of the convenience store with his hands rubbing his face. The police lights flared behind him as he shook his head. "This isn't happening." O'Hara continued. He suddenly halted and went to one of the patrol cars. He went to the rear door and cupped his hands over the glass, bringing his face closer to peer inside. He then went to the passenger seat and repeated his inspection. Displeased, he went to the other. "Thank you!" He announced. He tried the rear door but it was locked. He sucked his teeth. "Are you serious?" He complained just as another patrol car pulled up in front of the convenience store. Two officers emerged from within. It was Chase and Mick.

"O'Hara?" Chase shut the car door and approached the nervous off-duty officer.

"What the hell's going on?" O'Hara asked, turning to view the scene. "Two empty patrol cars wit' their lights flarin' on like this." He motioned the scene with his hand.

"We got a 10-13 for a 10-20 armed." Mick informed him, coming closer. "What are you doing here? I thought you worked 2nd watch."

"Yeah, I do, but I was suppose to meet my guy, Mullen, here." O'Hara spoke truthfully. "Wife's birthday, you know? He said he could help me out with a gift." He lied.

Mick eyed him, nearly sensing his deception. "This late at night?"

"Well," O'Hara quickly began. "What are you doing here?" Mick and Chase looked at one another before nodding. O'Hara's presence was of little importance at the moment.

"Patrol 596, this is 986 responding on scene to a 10-13, what's your location?" Mick called out through his hand radio. He waited for a response.

"986, 596 answering...This is Bev. I'm heading eastbound along the Red Line North, with a purp." Just as Bev gave his response he rounded the corner of the corner store and with some trouble, dragged his purp in cuffs. "Over here!" He hollered, clipping his radio back to his uniform. Chase jogged towards him to help with the unconscious purp.

"What'd'ja do with him?" Chase smirked. He grabbed the purp's arm to help carry him over to the police car.

"Wasn't me." Bev answered, nodding in gratitude for Chase's assistance.

"Oh?"

"Some tight-clothed vigilante. Didn't get too good of a look at him. Dang lights in this neighborhood." Bev complained. He took out his keys and unlocked the backdoor of his police car, shoving the unconscious purp inside. He placed the bag of money in the front seat.

"Where's Mullen?" O'Hara suddenly approached behind. "Can you open his patrol car?" He sounded possessed.

In response, Bev looked at him funny. "What are you doing here O'Hara? I thought you had second watch?"

"I do. Long story. Can you open it?" He rushed.

"No." Bev answered. "He has his own keys. But about him, I tried radioing him but someone else answered. I don't know where Mullen or whoever it was that answered is."

"Who answered?" Mick interjected.

"Someone calling himself Nite-wing." Bev looked amongst the three officers. "Ever heard of him?"

"Wait, you mean the one with the bird on his chest?" O'Hara wondered.

"Yeah, now that you mention it, wait no." Bev fumbled.

"What is it Bev, spit it out." Mick was impatient.

"The tight-clothed guy who knocked this guy out," Bev gestured to the purp in the backseat and continued, saying, "Had a blue bird thingy on his chest. That's...?"

"Oh, the one we saw." Chase looked at Mick who was very much displeased. "Nightwing. Back at the precinct. He said he was going to help out."

"But the one on the radio called himself Nightwing." Bev said. Mick shook his head.

"There's two of them?" Chase asked perplexed.

"They're both called Nightwing. Different spellings or whatever." O'Hara filled them in. "Both pains, but the one with the blue bird on his chest is for the most part, what some would call good." O'Hara did a whole quotation attack with his first and middle fingers of both his hands. "I hate them both." He muttered, dropping his hands.

"So, where's the one on the radio who called himself Nightwing then? Cause, I lost the blue Nightwing. Ran as soon as he heard that other Nightwing respond on the hand radio." Bev informed them. "Do they work together."

"Don't think so." O'Hara answered.

"Mullen," Mick spoke harshly through his hand radio. "Where the hell are you?" The four quieted and awaited a response.

"You really need to lay off the donuts." Nite-wing grunted as he dragged two bodies around the corner, towards the police cars and officers.

The four officers abruptly turned. Even Nightwing, from within his alley still in hiding, flinched forward. But he remained hidden in the darkness. It wasn't his time to move just yet. He was fortunate that Tad had shown himself at that moment. Nightwing was about to depart to find the wayward boy when he then rounded the corner mere seconds ago.

Nite-wing exasperated a sigh and dropped the bodies, kicking one in frustration. "Fatty!" He complained.

"Who the hell are you?" O'Hara squinted. "Mullen?" Mick and Chase reached for their firearms cautiously.

Nite-wing tilted his head and stared at the four officers, confused for only a moment. He then reached down and lifted the larger of the two bodies and continued to drag it towards the officers.

"Stop. State who you are." Mick demanded.

"Nite-wing, I said." Nite-wing answered with slight annoyance, still moving forward. "Don't these walkie-talkie's work all around?"He threw Mullen's hand radio to the ground.

"This is the guy that answered Mullen's radio?" O'Hara asked, looking down at the radio and then at Bev who nodded slowly.

"Sounds like him." Bev affirmed. "Is that...?"

"The fat one is Mullen?" Nite-wing asked. "He got in my way." Mick and Chase approached the blonde-haired so-called vigilante slowly and in a quick motion—once they affirmed he had no dangerous weapon in sight—Mick violently shoved him away from the unconscious body. Chase quickly knelt on the ground and turned the body over. His hands instantly covered in blood.

"What the-? Guys, this is Mullen and I don't think I feel a pulse. We need a bus here, now." Chase said as he adjusted his fingers on Mullen's carotid artery. He could only say it was Mullen due to the uniform he wore and the body's heavier stature. It was left in a horrid state and it was too dark to properly confirm an identity.

"Dispatch, this is 986. I need a bus to this location: 1829 Stark Avenue. " Bev radioed.

"Copy that 986, bus en route to your location, 1829 Stark Avenue. ETA 13 minutes."

"Come on Dispatch! Get us something faster, we have an officer down here!" O'Hara yelled. Bev felt the same way but before he could relay O'Hara's message to dispatch, Mick stole their attention.

"Stop moving!" Mick struggled, trying to get Nite-wing's hands behind his back to cuff them together. "We're taking you in." Mick attempted to mirandized him, however Nite-wing flailed his arms, elbowing Mick in the jaw and causing the officer to draw back.

Once Mick was separated from Nite-wing, O'Hara removed his off-duty gun from its holster and without warning, fired. Nightwing watched wide-eyed as Tad doubled over as he cried out in pain, clenching his shoulder. O'Hara readjusted his aim and readied to pull the trigger again.

"O'Hara, what are you doing?" Chase questioned with slight anxiety. O'Hara drew his gun far too quickly, especially for being off-duty.

"O'Hara!" Nightwing quickly interjected. He leapt forward and stood immediately in front of Tad, acting like a shield. Tad didn't have a special uniform that could decrease a bullet's damage as he did. "Don't." He spoke boldly. Tad didn't deserve this, even if he did something terrible. "He's had enough." Nightwing wasn't going to allow O'Hara to gravely injure Tad, or worse, kill him.

"Where did you─" O'Hara shook his head, wasting the questions. With his gun accurately aimed between Nightwing's masked eyes, he said, "I have no problem shooting you. Step away."

Bev and Chase stood over Mullen's body, with their guns pointed at Nite-wing and Nightwing. Mick stood beside O'Hara with his gun also poised.

Nightwing looked amongst the four officers. 'This is probably another reason why Batman is so against guns.' Nightwing quickly mused. The number of times he had firearms pointed at him this night was racking up quickly. He soon focused his thoughts. How was he going to convince these officers not to fire their weapons? He had to get Tad under control somehow. Perhaps injured, the sociopath would calm down. Nigthwing chuckled mentally to himself. 'Keyword: Sociopath. Which means they don't calm down. They only get revved up for more. Especially Tad.' Nightwing mused.

Behind him, Tad cleared his throat, trying to mask pained moans with nervous laughter. He heaved a few breaths and then clumsily staggered forward, steel baton suddenly poised and ready to pummel Nightwing from behind.

Nightwing read Tad's movements from the faces of Mick and O'Hara, which were shown from the flashing lights of the patrol vehicles. Nightwing knew he had to deal with Mick and O'Hara next for they were strongest in pressing him with their weapons. And knowing this, Nightwing also knew what was to come and readied himself as best he could.

'This is going to hurt.' He mused for less than second. He quickly leaned forward, bypassing Tad's steel baton but catching O'Hara's bullet in the left shoulder, as he still shielded Tad. Nightwing was thrust backwards but used the momentum to his advantage. He rotated to his left, lowering his body and extending his left leg which knocked Tad's footing off. As he spun, Nightwing also released two wing-dings and these flew towards Chase and Bev who instantly lost grip of their guns. The officers gripped their hands painfully.

Tad fell to the ground, Bev and Chase, without their firearms in hand, posed no further threat, for the time being. With not much time left to recover, Nightwing grabbed Tad's steel baton and threw it towards Mick and O'Hara who both had to duck to evade, however Mick was slow. He was hit and fell over.

As O'Hara began to recover, Nightwing advanced towards him, kicking the gun from his hands and then punching him hard in the face. Mick quickly stood and used the butt of his gun to hit Nightwing but the vigilante was quicker. He evaded the attack by bending his knees. In this semi-crouched position it made it easier for him to spring forward and upward. With his knee raised high to his chest, Nightwing caught Mick's chin, rattling him and instantly knocking him unconscious.

'That's one down.' Nightwing mused as he spun. Bev and Chase scrambled for their weapons as Nightwing ran towards them. He closed in on Chase first who scrambled like a dog for his gun. Nightwing roundhoused kicked him, feeling only a tad sorry for it because Chase wasn't all that bad but was still a potential danger.

Next was Bev who gave up on his firearm and resorted to his nightstick. He rushed towards Nightwing who immediately revealed one of his Eskrima sticks. As Bev swung his nightstick, Nightwing used his Eskrima stick to redirect the nightstick away and with his opposite hand he grabbed Bev's wrist that held the night stick. Nightwing then pulled Bev towards him, using his momentum against him and striking Bev hard in the ribcage with his Eskrima stick. He then drew the Eskrima stick back to hit Bev's forearm. Bev had no control over his actions and dropped the nightstick. Nightwing then struck him in the jaw. Bev fell to the ground.

"Three down," Nightwing said aloud. He turned back to O'Hara and Tad. Tad was busily kicking O'Hara, hollering about how the officer had shot him.

"I'm the damn hero here." Tad said and with a grunt, sent a hard kick to O'Hara's chest. Angry with the police officers and Nightwing, Tad recovered his steel baton. He gripped his shoulder tight, the blood slipping through his fingers. He gritted his teeth and then spat. "I'm going to kill you!" He then began beating O'Hara with the piece of steel.

"Tad!" Nightwing shouted. He rushed Tad, knocking the baton from his hands effortlessly and then slamming him against the patrol car. Tad grunted and moaned in pain. "You have to calm down. You might have killed an officer!" Nightwing didn't know for sure if Mullen was dead or alive. All he had to go on was Chase's inability to find a pulse. "Think of the consequences!" Nightwing gritted his teeth, feeling the statement was for himself as well. "Tad, this isn't some fictional story you read in a comic book. This is real life!"

Tad struggled against Nightwing's hold but with an injured arm, he wasn't at full strength. Then it came to him. Nightwing had been shot. Tad spat in Nightwing's face and while he flinched and went to wipe his face, Tad punched his left arm. Nightwing grunted in pain but it wasn't enough to have him release Tad.

"Nice try." Nightwing said through gritted teeth. "A little nasty, but nice try." Nightwing cleaned his face and then spun Tad around. Yet, before he could restrain him, O'Hara was on his feet, again with his firearm aimed at the two.

"I won't stop pulling the trigger until both of you are on the ground." O'Hara threatened. Nightwing looked at him.

"Shouldn't you be wasted?" Nightwing questioned with a tone of annoyance. He couldn't believe O'Hara was the last officer standing while he had just come from drinking several rounds with his co-workers. He debated on whether it was admirable or frightening that O'Hara could drink that much and function better than the officers whose tour it was. Nonetheless, and more importantly, Nightwing felt a bit uneasy that he was fighting police officers, but in Blüdhaven, crooks and officers were nearly the same.

O'Hara cocked the gun, waking Nightwing from his thoughts. He would have to play it O'Hara's way until he could find an opening to cleanly settle this. That was, if Tad would go along with it. Tad was very unpredictable.

"Okay, okay" Nightwing turned to Tad. "Let's do what he says and we can get out of this quickly and most importantly, alive." Tad brushed Nightwing off but seemingly obliged as the two turned towards O'Hara, their hands slowly raising in compliance.

"Good." O'Hara breathed. "What's that you've got in your hands?" He questioned Tad.

The blonde-haired vigilante smirked. In his left hand he tightly gripped a small oval object. He then extended his thumb and a single metal pin fell towards the ground. Nightwing's eyes widened.

| To be continued…