Umm, this popped into my head a few nights ago and I just got a chance to write it. It's just a little drabble. Hope you guys enjoy it anyways.

Warning for... vague suicidal thoughts. It's not really stated outright, but it's implied. Read at your own risk.


It was over. They had won.

They had won.

The Reach had left Earth. For now, the world was safe. But, as Batman had pounded into his brain since the day he donned the Robin costume, crime never sleeps. Crime never stops. So neither could he. Dick had enough experience with that. And he didn't need any more.

He felt guilty that he had forced leadership on Kaldur when only a few days ago, he had been so deep undercover with the enemy that everyone believed that he had truly turned against them. It couldn't have been easy on the Atlantean. But Nightwing needed a break. He couldn't handle the stress of all those kids depending on him when he had been lying and decieving them the entire time. And though he knew that they wouldn't trust Kaldur immediately, at least they knew how big of a sacrifice he'd made. Nightwing had hidden an enormous secret not just from the Team, but also from the League, and he knew that it would take a while for anyone to trust him completely again.

He didn't want to endure their suspicions.

He needed a break.

He -

He wasn't sure if he even wanted to be a hero anymore.

He wasn't sure if he could do it.

Wally -

His best friend. His best friend had died because of his leadership. Somewhere, subconsciously, he knew that if Wally hadn't helped Flash and Impulse, the world might be gone right now. He had saved seven billion lives.

Nightwing wasn't sure if it was worth the price they had paid.

He had paid.

He didn't know what to do - if he could do anything.

What did it matter anymore?

He had saved the world. It didn't matter what he did now.

He realized that, somehow, he had ended up on top of Wayne towers. It was dark, but not that late. He didn't feel like checking the time. He sat on the edge of the building, staring down unseeingly at the unfriendly streets of Gotham City. He wasn't sure what he was doing here, or how he had ended up here. It was one of the tallest buildings in Gotham. Nightwing felt more comfortable when he was up high, but at the moment he just felt numb.

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Nightwing buried his head in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. He shivered, suddenly feeling profoundly alone in the world.

It was then that he heard the very familiar whish of a cape behind him. He didn't bother turning around. He knew exactly who it was.

"Nightwing."

It was unmistakably Batman's voice, but it lacked the growling undertone that he used when usually talking to people.

At first, Nightwing didn't move. Then he slowly let his hands drop and his eyes turn up to the sky. "What have I done?" he whispered softly, speaking not to Batman, but to himself.

There were footsteps behind him, and then a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. He leaned into it instinctively, automatically remembering all the times his adopted father had helped him get through his problems - whether it was dealing with torture, or girl advice.

Batman would help him. No. Bruce would help him.

Nightwing stood abruptly, making Batman step back a moment, before clutching his shoulder again.

"Nightwing," the Bat continued, voice unnaturally soft. "Let's go home."

And they went.