Hey guys! This is just a short one shot of Dick writing a letter to Wally, and apology letter, because he felt terrible about what happened to him. And for those who are reading my other story, don't worry, I'll finish it! Also, please vote on my pole for the next story that I should upload!
Read, Review, but most of all enjoy!
Wally,
Looking back at the past eleven years made me realize that it was like my life before becoming a vigilant all over again. It was like I was in two different circuses, and later one becoming the ringmaster of the second, a cold, blind and numb ringmaster. But at times, it doesn't feel like it was me. Looking back, I couldn't see myself, but three different people, each being born after the other had died. Looking back, I could see them living under and shadow, and me being nothing more than a shadow of a shadow.
In the first circus, Pop Haley's, Dick Grayson was born right at the time when the circus was losing money. In the second circus, Robin was born when the Flying Graysons were murdered, or maybe it was in the Juvenile Detention Center where they left me. And then, Nightwing was born, while Robin died in the shadows. But honestly, I'm not sure when each one was born. It's all blurred together.
Dick was training right from the start, before he could even walk. He performed in the circus for years, for most of his short life. All the while, he lived in the fear that he would never be as fearless as his family, who was the main reason that Haley started to regain his lost money. He lived in fear that he'd always be in their shadow. And then, Dick died, the night Tony Zucco tampered with the trapeze. He fell with his family, and felt the heavy impact of his body slamming against the hard circus floor. He felt his blood spill, soaking the ground. It was the end of my time in that circus.
Robin was born then, or, as I said before, maybe it was in the juvenile detention center; I moved onto another circus. And he started to train with Batman before he ever really got used to that man, like Dick was training before he could walk. Then Robin was out flying, much sooner than Dick had. For four years he enjoyed it, until New Year's Eve, when he was forced to fight his mind controlled mentor. He won, for the good of the world, but it hurt him to fight the man he had grown to care for; a man he had come to see as his father.
It was as if he got cancer. Slowly, it started to poison him. He appeared strong though; no one could he. He didn't know either, until he started to fight Batman more often. He was sick and tired of living under his shadow, of everyone thinking that he's nothing but Batman's 'sidekick'. He was sick of following Batman's strict rules that he outgrew. He needed to prove to the world that he was a capable hero. He ran out of the house after a particularly ugly fight with his father, only coming back to keep public image. And when Kid Flash and Artemis retired, Robin finally let go of his life. His brother and sister left him. They left him. Sure he had other family, but truthfully, they were the ones closest to him.
He had died before he could ever prove to the world that Robin was more than a 'sidekick'.
While I was still in the same circus, Nightwing was born. He was more callused then Dick and Robin. He was more about the mission, especially after one of his family members died; Aquagirl. He became the ringmaster, the cold, blind and numb ringmaster that I mentioned before. He used his own family members as pawns. He played them to his will, and he played the well, so that all of them would come out alive.
But none of them came out without scars.
That just leaves me than. All I know is that I'm Regret. I'm Anger and Sorrow and Despair, and every feeling that joyful, carefree Dick, or focused, happy Robin, or cold numb Nightwing could never feel. I am their remains, after they had died and moved on. I still feel Nightwing alive though, but just barely, and not for long. Once he faces the Team, they'll tear him apart. They'll kill him, and they'll make him regret everything he's done. He'll be killed like Gadafi, stoned to death in front of every hero he knows as the dead president was killed before his citizens.
And I'll still be left. I'll still be here, but no one will know. Because I'm just a shadow of what's left now. I'm just someone who will eventually disappear into the darkness, and no one will care, no one.
I'm writing this letter to you Wally, because I remember how Robin and Kid Flash were close. They were brothers in all but blood. I know what happened, though. Nightwing was born, and he prevented me, the shadow, from ever repairing our bond again. For that, I'm sorry; I could have done something.
And I'm sorry for risking Artemis' and Kalder's lives. I'm sorry for using all of you, for using Jason, and Zatanna, and Tim and Barbara, and Conner, and M'gann, and for using every single person on the Team. I'm so sorry, because I could have tried to do something. I could have tried to change, to be more than a shadow, but by the time Nightwing came around, I was lost. I used all of you, and I'm sorry.
I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't expect you to keep this letter; burn it for all I care. After all, what am I really?
Nothing but a shadow,
Dick
P.S. I know you'll hate me and destroy this letter, but I needed someone to know this. I needed someone to know the truth, and that someone, Wally, is you.