I own nothing and no one

Chapter Two

Dick drifted. There was no other way to describe the slew of thoughts and memories that assailed him. It was like a nightmare, one from which he could not awaken.

Scenes flashed through his mind, one after another. Not all of them were unpleasant, but most of them were; patrolling Gothem with Batman, battles with the Titans at his side, more fights with Bruce than he cared to recall. The night the Joker shot him was definitely something Dick could have lived without remembering.

More than anything though, the young man's thoughts strayed back to the night of his parents' deaths. No one had seen it coming. It had been just another performance for the Flying Graysons, until one man's greed had brought the family low. It was almost funny. So many years had passed and yet Dick still remembered it clearly. The memory drove him even now.

The combined weight of his parents had caused the sabotaged rope to give way. For a moment it had seemed like nothing was wrong. Then, gravity had asserted itself and the pair had fallen. In the young boy's eyes it had taken an eternity. The sound of their bodies as they hit the floor would never fade, no matter how many years passed.

Slade's hands clenched briefly as Nightwing moaned. A nearby screen displayed the vigilante's vital signs. The mercenary was taking no chances with the younger's health. He had all everything he could possibly need. Nothing but the best of course, there were private hospitals with less sophisticated equipment than he had at his disposal.

Now that the time had come, Slade had to admit he was a little nervous. What if something went wrong? What if it didn't work? His composure wasn't helped by the presence of flashbacks. The situation reminded him of when he had been in the other's position.

"Kek sadullos!" Dick cried out. He wasn't really awake. The young man was still delirious, hovering just on the edge of consciousness.

A faint frown crossed the mercenary's face. That had not been English. Slade had been under the impression English was Nightwing's first tongue. Obviously he had been mistaken. Slade wracked his brain. Where had he heard that language before?

"Dai. Dat. Keck!"

Suddenly it clicked. "Romany," Slade murmured. He gazed at the younger man, taking in a hundred little details he had always seen, but never really noticed.

The tan skin, the blue-black hair, the bright clothes Nightwing had worn when he was Robin; even his acrobatic fighting style. He was every inch a gypsy. Anyone who knew to look would be able to see that.

Slade made careful note of the words. He could look them up later. Right now, he had more important things to think about than the vigilante's origin. It wasn't as though there would not be time later.

It took two days for Nightwing's fever to break, and another for his vitals to settle. Slade sighed as he felt the young man's pulse beat steadily beneath his fingers. It was over; the young bird was like him now.

A single eye blinked and the mercenary tried to suppress a yawn. He was tired. Slade had gone four days without rest. He had not left Nightwing's side throughout the entire procedure. One last look was directed at the still figure before the older man turned and left the room.

Wintergreen could watch their guest. There was no danger of Nightwing escaping. The boy would not awaken for at least another day. It was time to get some sleep.

SBSBSBSB

The next chapter will be longer

Anyway for those of you interested in translations

Kek sadullos- not safe

Dai, Dat, Keck- mother, father, no