Nightwing perched on the rooftop like a god would on his throne. In his element, aware of any dangers to his reign and prepared to deal with them swiftly. Blüdhaven would have to do without him for the next few weeks. He was going back to Gotham. The darkness grew more powerful and it came down as a cloak would around his shoulders. His eyes glowed red, covering the natural cerulean they usually showed. He smiled, it would be a whole lot of fun in Gotham. Tim and Jason had been away and he hadn't seen them in close to a year. Jason had a been in his wheelchair and Tim had just broken his wrist for the fourth time. Bruce would be the same. A minor presence that would probably be absent for most of the time. Snow started to fall, smothering the city in it's silent cold. His smile vanished. How long had it been since it had snowed? Too long. It reminded him of her. She had hated the warmth, the cold fed her, had made her more powerful. A tiny speck of salt water wound it's way down his cheek. She was no longer here. He was what… 20! How could he forget a thing like that. That would mean that it had been six years, almost to the day. A shriek echoed up to the rooftop. Showtime!

Bruce strolled the corridors of the manor purposefully. He had to prepare the rooms of the boys. He grinned. He was happy to have his sons home. All of them under his own roof, such a rare occasion. "Alfred?" The old butler turned gracefully, his tails swishing out behind him.

"Yes sir? Do you require anything?"

Bruce frowned. "You are supposed to get some rest. The doctor told me that you would remain in bed for at least another two weeks."

Alfred answered with a scowl and a huff. "Sir, the flu or whatever godforsaken illness that has seized me will be pushed aside until the young masters return and are settled." He was quickly dragged by the soldier towards the door. He struggled. "Sir, I must insist you let me return to my duties." He carried on fighting if a little quickly all the way until they reached a room in the South Wing a floor up from the Master Bedroom. Bruce turned on him. The butler warily glanced around. The room was huge, the four poster comfortable with an ensuite attached. "Master Wayne, what are we doing in here. This room is the guest room. It's traditionally were all the most honoured guests are allowed to stay!"

Bruce was gruff in his tone. "You just got a new room. You will stay here while I get your belongings and bring them up. You will then proceed to get into bed, turn on the television and relax. If you want anything, just call. And Alfred if I so much as see you dust a shelf, then I will lock you in here and won't let you out for anything, understood?"

"Very well, Sir."

The motorcycle wobbled as Dick swerved off the main road. He quickly steadied it and proceeded down the drive, his eyes surveying the gentle rolling flower beds and fountains around the gardens. Home sweet home! It took him a couple of minutes to drive around but he soon pulled up in front of the large house. The gargoyles were the only ones to see him arrive, the gargoyles including their leader, Timothy Drake. "Dick! You're here!" The young boy embracing his older brother, almost tackling him to the ground. His lungs were crushed and it hurt to move his arms.

"Hi…Timothy…" As he was released, the young man leant back on his bike. "How goes life?"

"Great! Bruce and Jason are inside. Alfred said he would have come but he was too ill to even get down the stairs. Doesn't stop him from dusting and…"

Dick took the opportunity to interject before Tim fell unconscious. "So Alfred's ill huh?" It was an hour before they all unpacked and got settled round a pot of tea. Bruce was asking Tim about his training, Tim took that as an invitation to talk for ten minutes about his new video game. "So is it that kind of year again? Already?" Jason breathed the words so softly, it took Dick another few seconds to realise what he was asking. "Yeah. I don't wanna talk about it."

"You should-"

"Father. What has been happening in Gotham recently?" Dick turned quickly to address his host. "Maybe we could go to the theatre or something as it's that kind of time of year?" Jason glared at him like he wanted to rip off Dick's ears very slowly.

"Ummm…I do believe there was something I wanted to take you all to."

"No. I'm telling you no. Right now and it is final." Tim dropped his ebony white cup on the table. All of them grimaced. The Party. "I am not going. We never should have. She'll kill us all."

"Look, Miss Heartfield is a wonderful woman who invites all of Gotham elite to her Christmas Party and it is very kind of her to invite you all."

Jason clenched his jaw, Tim scowled deeply and Dick had to take long breaths to keep himself calm. "We are not going." Jason stated. "The woman is insufferable and talks too much. You know what she did last Christmas. Dick was practically deemed unsuitable to even enter through the door. Tim was asked whether he had identification and I… I had to listen to the beastly woman jabber on for an hour and a half about how awful it was that my brothers weren't making as much money as Father. We are not going."

Bruce frowned. Then smiled. The other two winced, smiles were bad. "If you don't go I'll have you do some chores… to Alfred's standards."

"When is it?" Dick groaned.

"Thursday night."

They sunk back into their chairs.

The limousine was extremely uncomfortable. Tim sulked in a seat next to Bruce, arms folded while shooting lightning out of his eyes at Bruce. Dick sat forward, head in hands. He glared at Jason, the eighteen year old thunder cloud. Bruce seemed to pull off his tuxedo with ease, looking perfect in every way with his clipped hair and flawless skin. Tim looked like their father but with an additional few glares. Jason however, had worn a navy suit with no tie and the collar undone. Dick hadn't made as much effort and wore a simple blazer and black jeans. His rugged hair hung low over his brow, almost touching his eyes. The silence almost clung to everyone. "Dick, you could have at least made an effort." Jason smirked, just his way of getting back at him. Jason looked at Bruce for approval. He nodded at Dick and Dick collapsed even further back into his chair.