*this chap has been remastered!
The night was cold as always in Bludhaven, when was it not? However Nightwing couldn't bring himself to care anymore, his mind was on pettier subjects. Bruce, being replaced, shunned by the heroes, people he called his family, everyone; and those were just a few things on his mind.
Beyond thoughts, he battled and struggled with emotions in his own mind, all of them consuming the young, bright sprout he once was, leaving just a disheveled tired man in place. What did it feel like?
To it's most raw and simple description, he felt lonely.
It was just like that, no reconnections or anything meaningful, no redemption or forgiveness for… well, what did he do? All he ever tried to do was make people proud of him, to make them happy, to help them. Now look what happened.
He was alone, no one cared for him anymore.
The titans didn't need him, his young justice league didn't want him around. The justice league, the adults that were supposed to care and mentor them, didn't seem to care enough to reach out to him, and Bruce… he had three other robins to love and care for, since he got pushed out of the nest.
Not that he despised them for it, but… there was just a disconnect somewhere in between them. They weren't family.
Dick tried so many times to connect with each one, but they didn't want or need his "pity", as they had put it. Seriously, when did trying to give someone a hug count as that, or even try to make any human contact. Dick's face twisted into a crooked smile, it was almost as if they feared it.
He let out a bitter laugh at the thought. The bats? Afraid?! Nonsense.
But it was thoughts like these the really made him think, and hit so close to home. And they hit hard. He wasn't the same because of them.
Behind his domino mask, were the eyes of a man who felt isolated and beyond the eyes, was just a boy who lacked love and care. He never had a loving childhood, it was hard when you had a distant billionaire and even more distant vigilante as your adoptive father. The closest he ever came to someone caring about him was when he had his parents,but they were dead now.
But even then, there was someone else.
He only knew him by his first name, Simon.
Simon was a man who had white hair, glasses and almost always had a business suit on. Eyes cold and steely, voice as sharp as a knife and posture proud and strong as that of a wolf, was the best way he could describe the guy. But for his off putting and standoffish look, and especially the resting bitch-face the man had, he was not such a bad guy.
Simon, he learned later on, was actually a lawyer working with Haley's circus after the media began suing the circus on false claims of animal cruelty.
Whenever he wasn't working with his parents or Mr. Haley, Simon watched the performers do their routine, sometimes taking notes on a clipboard.
Dick remembered the noise of the clipboard as the pen scribbled on it, in fact, that was the thing that got his attention on Simon. The sound of writing.
He eventually got curious and asked Simon what he was doing one day, to which the man, unlike most adults who would patronize the child, actually explained his work and, to put it in Simon's words, "... supervising the animal trainers for any evidence on their defense argument in court. I have a suspicion that the animal mistreatment claims are false, but one can never be too sure."
Dick smiled faintly as he looked back on the memory. Simon was honestly like no other person he'd met before. He was like an uncle, or at least as close to an uncle as one could get when you had an adult lawyer for a friend.
He chuckled slightly under his breath as more memories resurfaced.
When Simon would take notes and what not, Dick would follow and watch him, ask him questions or riddles, tell jokes and stories to the working lawyer as a pastime.
He was a tad bit strange as he always appeared to have a cold, distant persona, but he was always kind enough to humor him as a kid. Always answered questions, played along to his games and even told him a few stories. He was one of the few people who seemed happy to spend time with him.
The day of his departure was one of the hardest days Dick has ever had, at least the ones he could remember. He faintly recalled having skipped meals that day and refusing to practice his techniques as well, all in order to be able to see Simon off before he left, he'd never know when he'd see him again.
Luckily he was able to catch him just on time, while he was ecstatic, Simon didn't look too surprised to see him, but he didn't look unhappy about it either. He was actually smiling. Something rare for the stoic lawyer.
To be honest, what he remembered the most out of that day was Simon's genuine happy smile…
That's when Dick frowned, it was probably the most genuine smile he's seen. It's not like anyone he knows ever seems to actually be something other than serious or angry.
Now that he thought about it, he couldn't imagine a time when HE was actually happy in his home. It was always just Dick Grayson, the golden child who always cracked a smile and got berated for his cheerful demeanor.
It was always just Nightwing who was the hero with a blinding smile and a serious job.
It wasn't real.
It was never him.
But now, Nightwing and Dick Grayson were perched on a building, looking down on the city, and they had to focus now. Though nothing much was happe-
BOOM!
Dick was then startled out of his thoughts as he heard an explosion in the distance.
Just as I thought nothing was happening, he thought with a slight scowl.
Getting up, he ran as quickly as he could towards the explosion site, finding himself being led to a warehouse.
Quickly and quietly, he jumped a few fences and crates around the grounds, taking a spot on top of a crate as the sound of footsteps was heard. The eyes of his domino mask diminished to slits as he saw a few men carrying large crates of what seemed to be explosions.
He then heard one of the men speaking, he seemed to be in a conversation with someone else, "Yes, they are explosives…. Repurpose them for smoke bombs?…. Alright, but…. Yes, boss… fill them with Anthrax poison?... A statement to the supers… I understand boss"
'A deadly poison?', he thought, body stiffening in shock.
'Whoever this is, they want to kill masses if they plan on using gas bombs, gaining the justice league's attention for sure… but too late to save anyone. That's not gonna fly with me', Dick thought as he shook his head in disbelief and determination.
Dick made his way over to the pile of crates containing the explosives, careful not to let anyone know he was there.
He noticed that all of the crates were piled up with the bombs in three specific locations, being shipped off to the mysterious buyer.
The only way to stop the shipment would be to get rid of the bombs, which would either take: One, disarming them to make them useless or .Two. blow them up.
He liked the first a few tools from a newly installed pouch in his suit, he began to open the crates and carefully take bombs out, disarming them and breaking their intricate pieces, once harmless. It was a tedious and long process, but luckily no one seemed to notice.
He had almost gotten through the last of the bombs when someone had started to yell. Dick stood up in alarm, only to find himself at a standoff with a man holding a gun. "Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?!", The man snarled as he put his finger on the trigger.
Dick jumped onto a crate and heard the first shot go off, body crouched and shielding his head, he stayed like that for a second to regroup.
Plan one failed, he didn't want to try the second one, so plan three it is then: use up all their firearms and knock them out.
Dick began to dodge bullet after bullet, but as more and more people began to fire a him, it got a lot harder to do so. It went on for who knows how long, until something went wrong.
The shots began to hit the crates too much, and the bombs weren't having it.
Dick's tired eyes widened, and his winded body stopped as he heard the high-pitched, eerie activation noise of the explosives. He turned his head towards the gunman, expecting them to have tried to book it out of there, but instead they were just there shooting at him.
He didn't register the amount of bullets zipping into his flesh or the pain from them. He could only fixate on the fact they weren't running away, how strange, but he didn't think about it much longer.
The bombs went off...
With Dick being launched by the explosion…
...Plan two it is then.
He didn't like this plan, but he'd dealt with worse outcomes. Dick let his thoughts run and a tired, relieved smile etched on his face at that grim moment, watching as the world went bright around him.
His smile grew wider soon enough, before everything cut to black.