If you haven't seen Before the Dawn yet, go on tumblr and look in the young justice tag. You'll find a free link before long.

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or the characters.


Dick was just standing there, his elbows to the counter and his eyes staring holes in the counter top when he heard the gentle heel clicks come up behind him. He didn't have to raise the navy gaze from the granite, releasing his teeth from his bottom lip.

"M'Gann…" he greeted her, the break in his voice showing that he knew the exact reason she was coming up to him.

The ginger didn't return his greeting, instead just continuing her stride until she was right beside him, her amber eyes encircled in a piercing neon green light. It shone out like headlights, capturing the black haired deer straight in them and paralyzing him right where he stood. He just begged the car to urge on, snap his spine straight down the middle, utter a broken cry from his lips before he fell silent where he wouldn't have to live with this building guilt. The truck was stopped though, the gun barrel poking violently into his chest unloaded.

"I thought she was dead," the woman barely breathed.

Even though the sound was just barely audible, the pain and hatred engraved into it stung the man with an unforgettable brand right over his heart where it peeled off the skin and burnt straight through the organ. Dick couldn't even begin to guess as to why the Leaguer would hide his lies. Why his mistakes were still dug hard under his subconscious was beyond his comprehension. He could do nothing more than stand there, feeling the earth beneath him pile away slowly in the process of carving out his own grave.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say, blinking slowly.

"You're going to be."

Dick raised his gaze to hers, trying to determine if it was a threat or a promise when the piercing light engulfed his own gaze, piercing the white of the mask and quickly draining him of all control of his mind.


"Dick, did you check the wires?" the ebony's eyes raised from his Gameboy at his mother's voice, swiftly rolling them.

"Don't be such a worry wart, mom. Those things are indestructible… unless someone has something like acid I guess. We're fine," he assured her, unpausing and cheering as a final dig sent Team Rocket's final Pokémon to its grave.

The brunette woman emerged from the curtain, her green uniform already bound tight to her muscular frame, her hip cocking out as she noted the jeans and t-shirt.

"RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON! I told you to get ready half an hour ago! Our biggest show is barely an hour away! We have to go through the act once! Do you want to die tonight?!" she scolded angrily, bringing a groan of frustration past his lips.

He saved his game and slammed the system for emphasis, chucking it and screaming angrily in protest.

"Why are you so mean to me?! We don't need to practice! We go over the same routine every other hour of every day! I could do it in my sleep! How come this show is any different?!" he was on his feet, running back to change with tears stinging his eyes before she could respond, her eyes cradled in her hand.


"Our biggest show, kiddo! Whatcha think?" his father grinned wickedly, peeking through the curtain and giving his famous bellowing laugh at the magnificent crowd that had swarmed the stands. "Look! All here to see you, right?"

Dick didn't laugh. He tugged at the collar of his spandex, frowning down at it in distaste.

"Whatever, dad," he growled.

The brunette's face furrowed and he walked to Dick's side, a hand to his shoulder before it was bucked off.

"You get your job done?" the man tried to change the subject, referring to the task Dick always had of checking the wires to make sure they were alright for the show tonight.

That just made Dick groan.

"You and mom—why do you think tonight's going to be any different than any other?! We don't need to check them! I'm going to perform tonight and there's nothing you guys can do about that!"


It wasn't until his parents were both suspended before he noticed the split in the wire, a mortified scream cutting his throat.

"MOM!" he shrieked, trying to warn the nearest, the feeling of helplessness welling tears to his eyes.

She was grinning up at him, chuckling obliviously, her hands outstretched to catch him. Then the worst happened. It was a simple –snikt- a metallic sound if seeking bluntness that cut the grin and the wire all at once. And then they were falling.

"DICK!" was the last thing to leave his mother's lips.

They were falling.

Falling.

They fell.

And then, the Flying Graysons were no more. All that was left were the hot tears that ran down the tan cheeks to the trapeze platform beneath Dick and the few that slipped down after his parents.


Dick was sobbing violently as he was pulled from the top of the trapeze tower by firemen. His face was bruised and breathing stung worse than all else, his body left in a stupor that he now recalled and tied with being drunk. The world spun, the words were slurred and a blur was all he cared to interpret for it.

"Throw me over!" he begged.

They weren't listening.

"Push me off!" he shrieked.

They started down the ladder with him in their arms.

"LET ME DIE!" he screamed, a heartbroken sob finally making it what had him heard.

Just because people heard him didn't mean they listened.


"You can s-save them, right?" the tears had made permanent ruts on his face as he desperately looked up at the EMTs pulling the bag-covered bodies of his parents into the back of the ambulance. "Y... you have the technology… please tell me you do…"

The suited officials exchanged pained looks.

"Kid… We… we… I wouldn't get your hopes up," a blonde man, not much older than his dad, sullenly muttered.

"Do you… Would you like to say goodbye?" a red haired woman with a ponytail offered him, biting her lip painfully.

They had barely blinked before the child was in the ambulance, peeling back the bags only to scream, clutching hard at his parents' bodies.

"NO! NO! It's… IT'S NOT FAIR!" he screamed, over and over again, each syllable echoing off the walls.


"There's no one left for me," Dick blinked a silent tear down as he sat in the back of the black limo, hugging his suitcase tight.

It was all had left of them. It was all he had left of his worst mistake. It was all the proof he needed that he deserved this.

"And it's all my fault…"


Staring up at their portrait kept the pain vivid, reminding Dick that it was real. It showed him that someone had actually loved him once. It proved to him that he could be loved. It only hurt, but there are some kinds of pain you just need in life. It's usually with this pain that you find the best kind of reliever, or in his case, a new path to take.

"I… I don't know what I'm going to tell him, Alfred! I don't think I can. The poor kid's been through enough," he tensed at Bruce's voice, shrinking down in the chair but peeking a glance over the arm anyway.

He shuddered and quickly went back to hiding as he came to terms with what he saw. Bruce was in a Batman costume. Batman had been there that night to protect him. Bruce had take him in, a stranger, without question. His guardian was Batman. He shrunk down further, eyes wide in horror.

"But sir," the English accent of the butler, Alfred was it?, followed soon. "This man is responsible for his parents' death. If someone had been there that night with you, wouldn't you have-?"

"But no one was there with me that night, Alfred. I'm not playing a game of what-ifs with you. I'm going to go and fix what needs to be and come back. He should see it on the news tomorrow. I should be back by two. If not, send the distress signal."


A carefully thrown sandbag and a few quick wrist flicks had Tony Zucco pinned to the ground for a second and four specific knives hitting the target areas against the rope on Batman's wrists and ankles, earning him two sets of surprised gazes. He knew he must've looked weird, an inside-out acrobat costume with tights, a tight cape and a domino mask , but he had never felt more comfortable.

"You'll pay for what you did, Zucco," Dick snarled, tears staining his eyes hard.

The Italian chuckled, slipping out from the sandbag and aiming a bowling pin for the new vigilante beneath the big top red tent. It didn't hit him, but it paused him long enough to duck from it and for the mob boss to bolt for the ladder to the towers that the younger ebony had been raised on. He didn't hesitate for a moment to scale the other one, amazed to see Batman pick up on his thought and scale the one Zucco climbed, trapping him in place when the two residential acquaintances occupied his only way out.

The gray haired man gave a gasp at the sight of Batman and stepped back. His fatal mistake. And suddenly, he was falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Caught.


"Why'd you save him?" was the first thing Batman said to the costumed boy, cautiously glancing from the bound Italian to the spandexed ebony.

Dick swallowed hard, wiping a tear away.

"I don't know."


"Do you swear to uphold your secret identity at all costs, no matter how great of a price you have to pay to do so?" Batman studied the navy eyes in the candle light, relief flooding him at the sincerity that beamed proudly in them.

"I swear," he vowed, puffing his chest out with a grin.

Batman set the book down, lifting the tan palm from it in the process, holding the flame near the ebony's lips.

"Extinguish the flame and you can, from hereon don a mask and join my side as Robin," he instructed before the cave around them was consumed with darkness in a single blow.


Dick winced at the arm that slipped over his shoulder, watching the yellow blur buzz around him in amusement.

"My name's Kid Flash, but you can call me Wally West because I just know we're going to be best friends until the very end! Who're you?" the ginger speed-spoke, earning a giggle from the ebony.

"I'm Robin," he shyly muttered, a blush over his cheeks.


"Best friends?" the twelve year old shyly asked Dick, holding out his fist hopefully.

The ebony laughed, extending his own fist and touching it to the pale one, meeting the grin with his own.

"Until the end," he promised.


"Why didn't you help the civilians out?!" Batman raged, welling tears in the ebony's hidden navy gaze.

"I-I," he weakly tried to get a word out.

"No! Why didn't you?! You know the most important part of a mission is the mission itself! Come on, Robin! This is common sense!"


Bruce set the basketball aside, having won the game by a measly four points that he obviously cheated to get from Dick's standpoint.

"Now. We need to discuss this hole you've made in my wall."


Dick cringed even before Bruce exploded, anger coursing off every atom in the wall and bouncing straight back onto the ebony with a violent, stinging passion.

"YOU TOLD HIM?!" the older man threw his fists up in exasperation. "WHAT WAS THE FIRST THING I TAUGHT YOU?!"

"Not to reveal my identity…" the fifteen year old murmured quietly, staring at his knees.

"And what did you do…?"

"… reveal… my identity," Dick sighed, knowing he was caught, his stomach twisting anxiously.


"I don't… want to… be… the Batman… anymore…"


"I want to live my own life, Bruce! I'm not that kid you took in from the circus anymore! I'm almost legal, just a few months away! I'm tired of this sidekick bull! I want my own signal in the sky!" he accusingly pointed at the bat symbol that lit up the sky. "Find yourself a new sidekick who's willing to prance around doing whatever it is you want because this one is DONE!"

Dick clutched the phone tight in his palm.

"W… what?" he breathed, his heart stopped. "Wally… you… you can't be serious."

He was being left for a girl. His best friend was gone. He had to face the world alone.

"I can't do it by myself!" he screamed, running his fingers anxiously through his hair.

"So go back to Bruce. You're not a little bird anymore. You have grown up wings. You own the night. Slip on your night-wings and own the city like you used to."


"So who are you now, Dick?" Bruce was hesitant to open the door, examining the new costume with a raised eyebrow.

The ebony stood there a moment, staring at his boots before he confidently raised his gaze to his guardian's, swallowing hard.

"I'm Nightwing, and I'm going to save the world."


"We have no choice," Dick agreed with Kaldur, a bit hesitantly. "There's not really another way to infiltrate the Light… I guess we're lucky your father is… you know…"

Kaldur nodded, looking around like he had been doing every other second out of paranoia.

"The only thing we have to decide is if we can involve anyone else. Should the whole team be informed?" the blonde asked, seeking a second opinion.

Dick shook his head sharply. "No. Just us… and… can I tell Wally?"

Kaldur's eyebrows furrowed and he set a hand to the ebony's shoulder.

"I do not believe he is going to return, Nightwing."

He bit his lip painfully, averting his gaze. "I know, Kaldur… but I have to hold out hope. He's my best friend, you know? I can't keep secrets from him."

"I know," Kaldur nodded. "I just fear that he will rat us out from disapproval."

Dick shook his head a bit too quick, raising the Atlantean's eyebrow.

"Wally wouldn't do that. The worst he'd do is tell Artemis, but we can… trust her."


"She has to pretend to die, Wally! We have to find out more about the Light and Kaldur needs help! Please…"

"NO!" Wally screamed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I'm not going to let you steal my girlfriend!"

"I'm not stealing her-!"

"So make someone else go! How about you go?! I have a feeling a lot of people would be happy if you did."


Dick fastened the necklace around the blonde's neck, his hands trembling. He heard Wally calling him out in the background, but he zoned it all out. He was Batman now, just without the cowl, and the first Bat Rule is that there's nothing more important than the mission. No exceptions.


Dick violently hacked the water from his lungs, eyes wide in panic as he saw what was left of Mount Justice. It was just a pile of ash now, a pile of rubble, and it was all his fault.


"Look, I'm sorry you lost all your souvenirs!" he shouted before Wally angrily threw him back into the chair, his back popping on impact.

"You really think I care about that stuff?!"


"STOP!" Dick found himself screaming back into consciousness, feeling the hotness of tears staining his cheeks and a raw feeling to his throat. "STOP IT!"

When he lifted his eyes, he found more than just Megan staring down at him. The whole team was there, all in civvies, staring him down with accusing or suspicious gazes, all demanding to know what he had seen that was bad enough to break him like that. He didn't give them that satisfaction though. Instead, he rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around the Martian, holding her to his chest, letting more tears fall despite the growl La'gaan gave in protest.

"I… I'm so sorry," he revamped his original apology before peeling himself off, scrubbing his cheeks hard and parting the crowd easily.

Tim and Barbara were the only two brave enough to trail after him.

"Nightwing…?" they both asked in unison, voices cautious and shy, making them exchange surprised glances.

He didn't look at them though, not stopping until he was standing beside the ZETA beam portal to take him from the memories and the pain that haunted him here. He beckoned them closer before ducking just enough that he could whisper it directly into their ears.

"Sometimes… memories can hurt worse than a direct blow. Try and make good ones," he advised before suddenly, the other two members of the bat family were left standing there, awestruck.


Written for my darling Raven. Basically, as payback for not telling the team what really happened to Artemis, Megan forced Dick to go through the same kind of traumatization that she had to after... well... spoilers. Review?

-F.J. III