A/N: This hit me at 11:10 and I almost screamed with glee at the idea. The Batclan's view of Jason is that he's turned into a criminal, as bad as the ones he kills, especially Joker. I took that idea and sprinted into the sunset with it. Taylor Swift's Look What You Made Me Do is the soundtrack. Maybe Empty Gold by Halsey. And Gasoline by Halsey. Trigger warnings for… um… attempted fratricide, dark themes, and suicidalish thoughts.

Dick sighed as he watched footage of Jason on the Batcomputer. He loved his little brother, but said little brother had committed mass murder last Wednesday and his killings were getting worse, more like torture than the 'bringing the scum to justice' that he usually did. Dick winced when he realized that he now would be relieved if his brother killed one person a week.

"Dick?"

Nightwing turned around to see Tim in his Robin costume but without a mask. "Hey Timmy."

Tim stared at the footage of Jason on a killing spree for a long second. "He's not getting better. He may never get better Dick."

Nightwing whirled around and gave Robin a glare. "Are you suggesting I give up on him?"

Robin held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying that he may be as far gone as the Joker at this point."

Dick kept glaring at Tim. "How would you feel if I abandoned you because you went mad?"

Tim flinched hard, but Dick didn't notice. He was too lost in his own little world, comparing Red Hood to Joker. He felt like crying when he realized that the similarities between Jason and Joker outweighed the differences.

Then he got a terrible idea.

It could kill him.

But perhaps… even if it did kill him, it would be worth it.

A way to bring Jason back to them.

Dick promised himself, right then and there, that he would complete this plan, even if it killed him. Hell, maybe the results would be better if he died.

000000000

He got it set up.

Dick contacted Wally first. "Hey Wally."

"Uh, hi Dick. What's up?"

"I need some help."

"Hey, I'm out of the heroing business and-"

"Wally, I will die if you don't help me. You don't have to be in the suit, I just need you to catch someone falling off a building and run them to the Batcave."

"Dick, you're not planning to jump off a building, are you?"

"No. It won't be me. You know I hate the idea of dying like Mami and Tati."

"But-"

"Wally. Trust me."

"O-okay. When and where?"

"In front of the Wayne Enterprises Bludhaven branch on the fifteenth. 11:30 to 12:30, I don't know the exact timing, but it'll be in that window. Don't be late, Wally. It's a matter of life and death."

"Dick, please tell me what's going on."

"I can't, but you'll find out soon. I promise it'll all be okay if you catch that guy and run him to the Batcave."

"Okay, Dick. I-I trust you."

It tore at Dick's heart that he had lied to Wally, but Wally would never have let him go through with it if he knew Dick would be falling off a building, much less if he knew the rest of it.

This stunt could be his last performance, but he refused to back down. If this was how he died, he would go out gladly.

Maybe then he wouldn't have to endure the countless lectures on how stupid he was.

000000000

Dick sealed up the last letter, wiping tears from his eyes. It felt kinda like he was going to suicide, even if he had taken precautions (namely, one Wallace West) to ensure he didn't die. But it was incredibly risky. If he ended up on the wrong roof, hell, the wrong side of the roof, he was dead. If Wally wasn't fast enough, he was dead. He could die so easily. There were millions of things that could easily go wrong, and this was so incredibly stupid, but he didn't care. He was doing this to save Jason.

He would do anything for Jason.

Dick stood up shakily, made sure that there was no evidence of him crying, and set off to Barbara's.

Oracle looked up at Dick, clothed in civvies. "Hey, FBW." She tilted her head up to receive a loving kiss from Dick. Yes, they were on-again. They had been going steady for four months, so hopefully it would last. If she didn't murder him after the stunt he was going to pull.

"Hey Babs." He smiled lovingly at her, the special smile reserved for Barbara, with just enough adoration in his gaze to show that he loved her but not enough to push her away.

"I need a favor." He continued. "Could you deliver this letter to Jason in two weeks unless I say otherwise?"

Barbara accepted the letter. "Why?"

Dick grinned at her. "You should find out in about a week. Please don't look at it, it's for Jason."

"...okay."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise." They hooked pinkys and shared a smirk, remembering when they had sworn to be best friends forever when Dick was nine and she ten. They had sealed it with a pinky promise.

As Dick turned to leave, Barbara frowned. "Whatever's going on, please be careful, Dick."

Dick turned back to her and kept walking backwards towards the window. "Me? Careful? Never."

000000000

It was the big night. September fifteenth. Showtime.

Dick suited up, no nervous butterflies. Those had been trained out of him by the time he was ten. Instead there was cold, ruthless determination to finish it, for better or for worse.

It was 11:00 and Nightwing worried. Would Red Hood show up?

Red Hood on East and thirteenth. Armed and on a motorcycle. No fatalities yet. The report came over the police radio. Nightwing's eyes lit up when he realized that he wouldn't have to maneuver Jason into a motorcycle chase, he already was on one.

Dick showed up on the scene on the Nightcycle, successfully drove Jason into a bloodthirsty rage with well-timed references to time spent together before Jason's death and calling his hatred of Joker unimportant.

The last straw was when Dick taunted Jason with the fact that Dick hadn't gone to his funeral. It drove a knife into his heart to see the reeling shock and pain written all over Jason's countenance. He rode off, fleeing for Bludhaven with an enraged Jason who was blinded by pain and a need for answers in tow.

000000000

Muttering curses, Dick checked his watch. It was 11:51. The clock was ticking. He had roughly 39 minutes or he would be forced to abort or follow through without his safety net… which would be suicide. What scared Dick was that the idea of following through anyway didn't scare him. At all. Save Jason. Everything else can burn.

Before he knew it, Nightwing was at the WE building. He ditched the Nightcycle… literally. Nightwing turned off the ignition and jumped off the bike, letting it crash and hitting the ground running. He began ascending the building via grapple, hearing Jason's muffled curses and praying that Jason wouldn't shoot him before he got answers.

Dick was climbing the back of the building, because Wally was in the front, and hero or not, Wally would try to save him from his maniacal brother. That wouldn't do.

Nightwing was aiming for martyrdom, after all.

Finally, he hit the top of the roof. Nightwing sprinted past the WAYNE signage and stopped at the very edge of the roof, then pivoted to face his younger brother, who had halted just past the glowing letters.

Jason was beyond pissed. He was in a full-out Lazarus rage, the likes of which he hadn't experienced since he had first been revived.

Nightwing fought to keep his body relaxed as Jason let out a mocking laugh. "How fitting that I'm going to shoot you under the light of Daddy's name, Golden Boy." It shook Nightwing to the core to hear how readily Jason said he would shoot his older brother. Then again, he had said shoot, not kill. There was a difference.

Dick needed Jason to go for a kill shot. Specifically, his chest.

"You have questions." Unlike before, Dick dropped the mocking tone.

Jason was too far into his madness to calm down. "You didn't go to my funeral?!"

Dick eyed Jason wistfully. "I was on Tameran."

Jason tore off his helmet and domino mask, showing Dick the twisted sneer and madness-brightened green eyes he now wore. "You couldn't bother to get here! The funeral was a week after my death!"

Nightwing just shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to break his brother's heart by actually telling him he didn't care. The truth was, he did care, but Bruce hadn't told him Jason was dead until weeks later, after he got back from Tameran and after the funeral, and he only told Dick because he kept asking where Jason was.

Shaking his head worked well enough. Jason cocked the handgun.

Nightwing pulled up the lenses of his mask to expose his eyes. Peaceful blue met rage-filled green. "You wouldn't shoot me. No matter how much you proclaim that you hate Batman, you won't hurt me, even though you know it'll hurt him more than anything else. You're just a knockoff of me." The last line was delivered with a sneering tone, but Nightwing's expressive eyes betrayed him.

Or, at least, they would have if Jason hadn't been lost to a bloodthirsty haze of red.

Jason leveled the gun at Nightwing's chest. Nightwing helped him by holding his arms out to his sides, exposing his chest and making it a tempting target. "You can't shoot me. Not fatally, at least."

Jason's eyes narrowed and missed the grief in his elder brother's gaze.

"You've always been a fool, Nightwing."

The gun went off.

The center of Nightwing's blue bird symbol turned red.

Nightwing kept a calm smile as he saw the rage dissipate in Jason's eyes and horror enter them.

He dropped the gun.

Nightwing smiled serenely. "I love you, little wing. I'm doing this for you."

He coughed up blood, still smiling peacefully. Only ten seconds had passed since he was shot, but it felt like hours.

Arms still held out from his sides, Nightwing gracefully tipped backward off the building, his brother's horrified scream echoing in his ears.

The wind whipped around Nightwing. He felt oddly at peace as he fell, not knowing if Wally would catch him, finding that he didn't really care.

He would enjoy this one last flight.

Then, a red flash of lightning and Nightwing was being transported to Gotham at the speed of sound, Wally screaming at him to keep his eyes open.

Before Dick could mumble out a response, he was in the Cave, Tim staring at Dick in terror and Wally yelling at Bruce, "He's been shot in the chest!"

Bruce's cry of "Alfred, prep the med-bay, Dick's been shot in the chest!" brought back memories Dick wasn't prepared for. Memories of the same thing being screamed years ago, when he was sixteen and Robin.

That was the point of this recreation, though.

Dick blacked out wondering if Jason would mourn him, and Bruce telling him, "keep your eyes open, chum, keep fighting!"

A/N: Aaaaand… come back for the rest. This'll be a two-or-three shot. Dick's gonna catch hell if he survives. And what does Dick mean by 'recreation?' What's his full plan? And what exactly was he reenacting and why? Take a guess in the review section! Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!

Out of curiosity, how many of you are flipping out right now? Let me know via review and I'll reply back!