A/N: So, a few things to explain before you start reading this. Number one, this is told entirely from Dick's point of view. Number two, yes, this is in response to recent events in Batman Incorporated. There WILL be spoilers in this, so don't keep reading if you don't want to see them and/or are still upset about it. Number three has nothing to do with this story, but I just want to apologize for taking so long to continue Satella Sanction when I can write this pretty easily. I assure you I'm still working on it and will get the next chapter out to you all as soon as possible. Thanks, sorry for how short and/or sad this is and enjoy.


Reaching for the bottle beside me, I grimace as it goes down my throat. I don't drink. Not usually. Jason thinks I just can't handle it and maybe he's right. But sometimes, things happen and they make you do things you never would normally. Things get hectic, you lose control and suddenly...he's gone. I know I'll never forget him forever, but if I can just forget for today, pretend that he'll be here tomorrow, he'll be there same as he always was, then maybe I can go through with this.

A knock on the door behind me. Probably Sonia coming to make sure I'm alright. I can't face her or anybody else today. It's why I'm here packing and not out there with everybody else. Just focus on what you're doing Grayson. Don't think about anything else or you'll never be able to spring back from this. Would be a lot easier if she wasn't so determined to keep knocking.

"I'm coming, hang on," I call back, sighing as I step away to answer the door. Just tell her you can't talk right now and send her away. She doesn't need to know about what you've been doing. "I don't really have time to talk to you right now, so I'll have to send you back."

"Make time." That's not Sonia's voice. Opening the door, Bruce looks in at me, the same sad glint in his eyes I've found all too familiar in my own in the days since we got back. For a moment, we just stand in the doorway watching each other until he cleared his throat. "May I come in?"

"Ri-Right," I said, not sure what else to tell him as he pushes his way past me. As he looked around the apartment with a look of disappointment, I grabbed the spare costume laying on the ground and added it to the pile of clothes beside my bags. "Sorry about the mess. I'm kind of in the middle of something. I've been thinking, you've got it covered here in Gotham, so I figured I should go find somewhere else to go help."

"Dick, that's enough," Bruce said, his back turned to me as he continued surveying the apartment. "We both know why you're leaving. And why I'm here."

Bruce never was one to pull his punches. But I guess it's about time I finally let all this out. "Bruce...I just wanted to tell you...I'm sorry. For everything. This is all my fault."

"Dick, you shouldn't blame yourself. He-" Bruce started before I kept going.

"Don't try to make me feel better, alright? I'm the one who got him into all this in the first place, I'm the reason he ever became Robin and I was the last person to see him before it happened! I could have done something to save him! I should have just sent him home like he was supposed to be, but..." I trailed off, unable to hold back the tears that had been welling up since that day. He was really gone. Maybe even for good.

"Dick, that's enough. This wasn't your fault. He knew what he was getting into when he came and he went out fighting. He was a good soldier." I couldn't stop myself from what happened next. The next thing I knew, Bruce was clutching his jaw and my fist was throbbing in pain from the impact. No time to worry about that.

"Is that all you have to say? 'He knew what he was getting into'? 'Good soldier'? He wasn't just another face Bruce! You may have forgotten that, but I haven't! He was your son and that's all you can say?" I screamed, any sense of sadness being replaced by pure anger. I pulled back my fist to punch him again, but not before he got to me first, knocking me to the ground.

"Don't. I haven't forgotten anything," Bruce said, looking down at me before he turned to leave. Pulling myself back up, I worked up the strength to call out to him.

"Bruce. He's coming back. If you and Jason can do it, there's no way he's staying down." For a brief moment, Bruce paused before continuing on his way. For another few minutes, I could barely move. Getting the Batman himself mad had seemed like a good idea at the time, but I was starting to see all the problems with it now. Soon enough, I recovered enough to finish packing for tomorrow. All except for one last thing. Reaching to the top of a shelf, I pulled down a game and packed it away safely. Who knows, maybe he'll still want it when we see him again.