Still don't own Nightwing, or DC Comics. Not suing would be appreciated. I have no money, I promise, so please just let me use the brilliant characters.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

/\-n-/\

Dick sat at the far end of the bar, a half empty bottle of beer in his hand. Roy came through the door, saw his friend and sat down next to him. He waved the bartender for a beer.

"How was work?" Roy glanced over.

Dick shrugged. He had called Roy and simply said that he needed a drink and needed a friend. He said he didn't trust himself to drink alone and didn't want to be alone.

"Tim called me, said you asked him to cover the city tonight." Roy caught the beer that was slid to him.

He shrugged again. "Just needed a break." His voice was low, rough.

"Barbara called, she told me Gordon said that your case ended up bad."

Dick laughed bitterly. "Did she, then I'm sure you have all the answers."

"I don't, and I wish I did." He took a drink of his beer. "What happened, Dick?"

He looked over at Roy, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard.

Four Hours Previous.

Dick sat on the bus bench. His earpiece crackled with static and he pulled his sweatshirt hood up. It was nearing the end of a long week of undercover work. A suspected child molester and drug dealer.

"Grayson, you in position." Nate's voice came over the static.

"Yeah. Just tell me when." He lit a cigarette for character.

"Ten minutes."

He stood and walked across the street to the apartment building. He leaned against a light pole and smoked. Another undercover officer passed him, their eyes met for a second, but other than that, they made no other notice of each other.

"Grayson, enter...apartment." Nate's voice broke through static again.

"Copy." Dick walked up the cement steps.

He ran up the flights of stairs to the fifth floor and slowed to a walk. Nate leaned against a wall in front of a closed door. Dick walked over to him.

"We got the order to enter. Perp is inside, possible victims." Nate kept his voice low.

"I'll go first."

Dick pulled his gun from his holster under his sweatshirt. He paused in front of the door, glanced back at Nate and the two officers down the hall and kicked the door open. The scene froze Dick to where he was for a moment.

Lines of heroine sat on the table still, next ot a crack pipe. The perp sat on the couch, a gun in one hand and blood running from his skull. A seven year old boy was sprawled across his lap, the child's eyes were glassy with death. A five year old girl was naked from the waist down, blood ran from her ears, her eyes were closed.

Dick swallowed and leaned heavily on the doorframe. Nausea that was nonexistent a few seconds ago increased suddenly and he wondered if he should step out before he vomited. He swallowed and felt the nausea rise, stronger that it was a second before. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He swallowed, the nausea fading. It occurred to him that he nearly blacked out.

"Aw, fuck." Nate whispered, his face pale.

One of the other officers stepped into the doorway. He stepped back into the hall. Dick heard him cough and then a wet splash on the floor. The officers of Bludhaven police department had seen a lot of things, but this was something that none of them would be able to get out of their heads. Even the most seasoned officers would have been sick at the sight.

Dick caught a soft sigh from across the room. He snapped back to his job, his duty to protect.

"Get the coroner in here, call the chief." He muttered.

He stepped into the room, his gun out and ready. He glanced at the bodies as he passed and wished that they had been there sooner, wished that there was something he could have done. He heard footsteps behind him and turned. Nate was a few steps away, his gun out.

Dick held his hand up and Nate stopped. Dick held his breath and listened, his eyes closed. He knelt down and looked into the darkness behind the couch. A four year old girl sat in only her underwear, tears on her cheeks and blood oozing from a gunshot wound on her torso.

He slipped off his sweatshirt and crawled to her. She didn't make a sound, too terrified and traumatized. He carefully wrapped it around her and pulled her close.

"You're okay. Nobody's going to hurt you. I'm a police officer, a good guy." He felt her small arms wrap around his shoulders. "Nate, call an ambulance." His voice was calm.

Dick stood with the girl in his arms. He could feel her blood soaking through his shirt and her body trembled from shock. Her eyes closed and her grip on his shoulders slackened.

He shifted her in his arms and saw the stillness of her chest. He ran to the hall and placed her on the floor. He started chest compressions, her blood covered his hands and shirt. He couldn't stop trying to save her life even though he knew she lost too much blood. He was too late again.

"Grayson." Nate rested his hand on Dick's shoulder. "The paramedics are here. I'm sorry."

The paramedics lifted the girl onto the gurney, checked her for life and pulled the sheet up over her. Dick stood and stumbled back against the wall. He looked down at his hands and felt the blood as it dried.

Chief Addad came up the hall, he saw his officers in the hall, eyes cast to the floor. He went to Dick when he saw the blood.

Dick looked up. "I'm sorry." His voice broke slightly.

Addad rested his hand on Dick's shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"It's her blood, not mine." He whispered.

Nate came up, his face still pale and his hands shook. "Nobody survived, sir."

Addad looked at his officers. "Head back to the station, get cleaned up. We'll meet in an hour to debrief. I'm sorry it turned out like this."

The officers escaped to the street, the night air hitting their lungs like they hadn't been breathing at all. They piled into the van that was waiting. Dick stood on the sidewalk, his eyes on the street.

"Dick, are you coming?" Nate paused.

He looked over at Nate. "It's twelve blocks back, right?"

Nate nodded.

"I'm gonna run back, see you all there."

"Okay." Nate climbed into the van.

Dick watched them pull away. He took a breath, still felt sick to his stomach, and started running. The night air rushed past him as he sprinted. His lungs burned from the effort, but he couldn't stop. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He could still feel the girl's limp body under his hands, still see her bare skin pale in the light from the hall. He ran harder despite the fatigue that turned his muscles to lead.

He stopped at the steps of the police department and leaned against the cold stone as he caught his breath. After a few minutes he climbed the steps and passed through the doors.

In the locker room he stripped from his blood stained jeans and shirt. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to the showers. He let the hot water wash over him and saw the water, turned pink from blood, swirl down the drain. His stomach churned and he swallowed back the nausea again. He braced a hand against the wall and let the water run over him.

"Fuck!" He slammed his fists into the tiled walls and felt the pain of impact. "God damn." He whispered as he turned the water off.