Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any of the characters involved.

Dear Bruce:

Where do I even start?

Do I start by saying Happy New Years? That would be something normal to say right? Though we both know that truthfully it wasn't very happy at all. Since we ended up fighting – again – like we always do. No, wait, not like we always do. We never fought this much back then.

Truthfully Bruce, I don't know how to start, and the question shouldn't be where do I even start but where can I start?

There's so many things we haven't even touched home base with and us both being pigheaded and stubborn, saying the wrong thing can easily turn the conversation from simple to complicated. Like tonight. But there's so much I want to say and so little opportunities to get it out.

So I'll write you another letter.

I guess we've been giving each other the cold shoulder for a while. A while. A bit of an understatement, don't you say Bruce?

First, maybe I should start with how weird it is writing a letter addressed to Bruce Wayne, and truthfully, not that it wouldn't be equally weird, writing a letter to Batman would have been a lot easier.

As Batman and Robin we were vengeance, justice, and mercy. We were everything they made us to be. Then we had our falling out and I left, not because I wanted to, because I felt I had to. Because when you fired me as Robin, I felt like you were kicking me out of your life. And that was always what I feared the worst.

I hated being your ward. I hate that word. Not that I hated being with you Bruce, not at all. I hated knowing that being a ward only had meaning until I became eighteen, then what was I to you Bruce? Batman was Robins mentor and Robin was Batman's partner – not his sidekick, I hate that word too – his soldier, his trainee, his protégé. But who was Dick to Bruce. If I wasn't your ward anymore, who was I? Your son? Or was Roy right? That I was just some charity case.

But I know that's not true. I know that wasn't the only reason you took me in. And I knew that the little boy you took in started growing and having meaning in your life. I knew. Because you were my world too, Bruce. You could do no wrong, as Bruce and as Batman. Not in my eyes. A boy always sees his father as perfect and indestructible.

Was that what scared you away Bruce? That I was growing up? No, I know that scared you. That I might not need you anymore one day and that you would lose me just like I was scared of losing you, losing any meaning to you. But that wasn't what happened. Somehow, we drifted apart by becoming closer.

Only we would, huh, Bruce.

A little inside joke but in all serious it's the truth.

When I was a little boy, you made a promise to me: that you would never replace my parents. Because you knew you could never fill their shoes, and at that time all I wanted was the same.

But now, I've come to terms with what happened to them. But somehow I haven't come to terms with you, because you kept that promise, all these years, to that broken boy who reminded you of yourself. And I guess we really are alike. No matter how I'm in denial about it. Barbara was right – don't tell her though, okay? Our personalities, our way of means, our beliefs, and even our pasts, because of them, how we became who we are today.

But there was a different Bruce. One big one.

And that's you. You and everyone I met after you brought me into your life, into your deep dark secret life. As a vigilante – as Nightwing— I had been trying to branch out from you. I was on my own so it was only fitting that I should start a new life, independent. But you've seen my costume and Nightwing wasn't someone new or someone original.

While trying to not think about Batman, Nightwing had been completely taken from a part of you and the life I had as Robin. Nightwing was – is – me and I guess no matter how I tried to fight it, no matter how rebellious I was, to me Bruce, Batman, you could never be a stranger to me. You would always be a part of me even if you don't know it.

Bruce – you would give up Batman, everything, all of us, if you could change what had happened. You would drop everything at hand in a heartbeat to bring your parents back. But, I've never told anyone this, but the truth is Bruce – I don't think I would.

Because that would mean trading in my friends, every single person who made the Dick Grayson of today, who supports me and loves me and just makes me...well...me.

And you Bruce.

You and Alfred and Timmy and Babs and Cass and Steph and...just EVERYONE Bruce. Even Jason.

And I don't think I would be able to give all that up, give all you up, and give up everything that is – me. There would be no Nightwing.

And I don't think you're ready to know this yet, to know any of this yet so that's why I won't send this letter. Just like all my other letters and presents I was never able to give you. All the gifts with the tag addressed to 'dad'.

I can't even imagine what your face would look like if you heard me say that. So I'm going to step it up a notch while I'm at it, since you probably won't ever read this.

I love you, too.

And I miss you, too.

So happy thanksgiving, happy holidays, happy New Year, happy birthday and all the other happy' that I was unable to tell you this year.

And probably next year.

And it doesn't really matter what sort of celebration or festival that it is. Because you deserve it all Bruce. You deserve all the happiness. And that's all I ever wanted for you. To find happiness in whatever you're doing, whatever it is you choose to do, no matter what anyone says or thinks. No matter what I think.

Just be happy.

Love, Dick.

A/N : This was supposed to have a plot but after months of racking my brain, I just can't seem to get the words out right. So I decided to just post the letter part of the story first. The full story with an actual plot along with the letter will be up at a later date and should be titled something along the lines of 'Dear Bruce'. Sorry if there's any mistakes. Thanks for reading!