A/N : Here we go!

xxxxx

He woke up on a roof. He couldn't move and his brain wouldn't will it, so he laid there with racking breaths pulsing through his chest. His focus was gone and he wasn't quite sure what he was doing here but he didn't have any reason to question it so he laid there for a long time until little by little pieces of information began to put itself back together in his mind.

Suddenly, he could no longer breathe. He was choking on his thoughts and his body woke like in a jolt as air rushed back into his body. He crawled his way to the chimney and leaned back, panting and wheezing for some life.

He curled up to his knees and tried to focus, tried to understand. He remembered fragments.

There was something horrible. Desmond was there. And Catalina. And blood.

BANG!

And then she was there whispering sweet nothings (but he wasn't).

Something awful had happened.

He fumbled for his communicator with shaky hands. He had to call for someone- anyone.

"Hello?" The voice asked clear and crisp but he couldn't find the words to reply. "Hello, Nightwing?" This time the voice was slightly panicked but he still didn't know what to say. Or rather, how to even explain what was going on.

"Dick you better not be playing with me." He tried to articulate something but only succeeded in a heavier pace of breathing. "Are you alright? Leave your signal on I'm coming to your location."

He noticed it had rained and he was sitting in a damp suit. It was uncomfortable but there was nothing he could do about it.

He dozed off, but not to sleep, just out of his mind as his brain forced him into a state of catatonia.

...

Some time later he was shaken back to his senses to find someone kneeling next to him. They were saying something to him but it didn't quite register in his mind. After a while they moved their positioning to the front of him and put their arms on his shoulders.

"Dick! Can you hear me?" This person was exasperated or... worried.

He flinched and made eye contact with the man. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came.

"What- what happened?" The man stared at Nightwing's tattered clothing and rain-soaked appearance. Then he noticed the dark blots on his open flesh; the rain hadn't completely washed away the event.

"Are you hurt? There's blood on your hands…"

He looked down at his own hands to confirm what was said and began to shake. The man clenched his hands harder onto his shoulders in an effort to stabilize him.

"Just- please say something."

It took a little while but Dick pulled himself together for a few moments. "I...- something happened." He whispered shakily.

The man- the man had red hair. He was familiar. Dick knew this man.

"Roy…" And Roy looked at him dead in the eye. "I don't think I-..." And then he could say no more. Nothing would articulate itself.

"Dick, it's okay. I'm gonna take you home." Roy started stood himself up first and lent a hand to Dick who could not do much but look at the offer.

"Please. Not home." Dick pleaded and Roy sighed. With little else he could do Roy picked up the surprisingly heavy hero and gently positioned him over his shoulder.

"Hold on Dickie, it's gonna be fine."

xxxxx

This is the scene for now. I may continue this when I have the time or when inspiration but this story has basically been floating around for years now. It should be familiar if you know a bit about the Nightwing comics. And if the few namedrops or setting didn't tip you off... I think you know exactly which arc I'm talking about. Everybody loves a bit of controversy :)