Dick stood near the edge of the roof, watching the lights of the city night. Wally got to his feet, watching the younger boy's back.

Dick tried to keep his voice calm as he explained. "Earlier this week, my uncle had surgery. It was supposed to try and give him back some mobility in his arms... It didn't really work. There was a complication... And a few days later he got a post-operative infection. And it got worse... And then last night he died." Dick shrugged. "Just like that. He was in a hospital full of doctors and nurses and there was nothing anyone could do. He just died." His voice cracked. "And now they're all dead... My whole family's dead and when I heard... it felt like they all died all over again... All of them... I just..."

He turned around. His eyes were red and watering. "Oh, Wally... They're all dead... I'm the only one left... I'm the only one..." He started shuddering. Wally rushed over and hugged him tightly. Dick started crying and lost the strength in his legs, but Wally held him upright. Dick was finally crying for the first time since he heard the news.

Dick screamed - a wordless cry to go with his tears. Wally hugged him as tightly as he could while Dick cried out loud.

.

That morning, Dick casually walked into the dining room - specifically, the dining room they used for breakfast. He'd been living in the manor for over three years and it still struck him as funny (and a little stupid) just how much wasted space there was here.

Case in point of the wasted space: There was a very long table with many chairs but only Bruce and Alfred were sitting there. They were sitting next to each other at the end of the table, with no food in sight, and they were looking at Dick with extremely somber expressions.

Dick didn't need his super-awesome detective skills to figure out something was happening. He smiled cautiously. "What's up?"

"Sit down, Richard," Bruce said gently.

He called him "Richard." It really was serious. Confused, no longer smiling, Dick sat down around the corner from Bruce and across from Alfred. "What's up...?" he repeated.

Bruce wouldn't answer right away. He looked down to the table, then into Dick's eyes, then, "We got a call from the hospital your uncle went to."

He could guess what was coming from their tone. It had been a few days since the surgery - they would know the results for sure by now. "The operation didn't work, did it? He still can't move." Dick braced himself for that, but it was still disappointing.

"It's worse than that," Bruce said.

"Worse?" Dick blinked. "Is he still not over that infection?"

"Richard..." Bruce placed his hand over Dick's. As calmly and as gently as he could, Bruce said, "He passed away."

Dick stared at him. Bruce had a rare expression of unfiltered compassion. Dick looked over at Alfred, who was sad and concerned.

"What do you mean 'passed away'?" Dick asked. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even in denial. It was spoken out of pure confusion.

"The infection spread, and late last night, he started having trouble breathing," Bruce told him. "It was too sudden. There was nothing anyone could do."

Dick continued staring. The information was sinking in by degrees. "He's dead?"

"I'm so sorry..."

Dick still wasn't that sad. There was a fog of dumb confusion he couldn't break through yet.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do in this situation. He felt like there was something he was supposed to say, but he couldn't figure out the words. Then he remembered that there's a funeral when people die. "When's the funeral?" he asked impulsively.

"Not for a few days," Bruce answered.

Dick blinked. He pulled his hand away from Bruce. The numbness was starting to go away, and he realized he didn't like that.

Alfred spoke up. "We already called your school and let them know you won't be coming today."

He looked at him with a start. "Why'd you do that?"

Alfred and Bruce looked at him. It was their turn to seem a little confused, or maybe it was another form of concern.

"The funeral's not today so there's no reason I can't go," Dick said plainly.

"No reason...?"

Dick stood up and walked over to a cabinet. "I'm not that hungry. I don't want a fancy breakfast. I'll just grab some toast or something and then I'll be ready to go."

"Dick, you don't have to go to school," Bruce said.

He spun around and snapped at him. "Well, what else am I going to do today, Bruce?!"

Neither Bruce nor Alfred replied. They just continued that concerned look.

"Please, guys, I - I -" He stuttered. "I don't want to sit around the mansion doing nothing. Don't do that to me. I just - I - I need to keep busy... Okay...? I wanna deal with this gradually and keep busy. Okay?"

Bruce asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Dick replied immediately.

Bruce nodded slowly. "All right."

Alfred stood up. "I'll get some toast, then."

As Alfred walked off Bruce told Dick, "If you change your mind, don't hesitate to call us."

"Yeah, sure." Dick didn't really hear him.

.

Dick sat in class. Many kids his age sat around him. Some were paying attention to the lecture. Others were not, but later on they would whine about how hard the schoolwork was. It was the same as any other day. It was the same old thing day after day.

As he sat there and listened to the teacher babble on, he started to wonder, Why am I here?

Dick had meant to work hard and take careful notes. There would be a geography test later that day. European countries - easy A for him - but he had intended to take it seriously and put in real effort. He really did mean to at first, but he lost interest as the morning went on. It was getting harder to focus. Or rather, it was getting harder to focus on what he wanted to.

Uncle Rick was dead. It took over three years but it happened.

Three years in a bed, unable to move. Three years with a caretaker putting him in a wheelchair and taking him out for the occasional stroll in a garden. A life like that must have been Hell for a former acrobat.

Maybe it would have been better if he died sooner.

Dick immediately pushed that thought out of his head. That was an unforgivable thing to think. Wasn't it?

Instead, Dick looked down at his notebook and thought about his schoolwork. He didn't like being in class.

Why am I here?

Maybe he should have stayed home with Alfred after all.

Dick loved his uncle. He didn't want him to die. In spite of the fact that thinking about him made him feel guilty. He should have visited right after the surgery. Dick should have visited more often in general. But it was too late now. He should have gone sooner.

He really didn't want his uncle to die. He didn't want any of them to die. But it happened anyway... All because of Tony Zucco.

That man was arrested, proven guilty, and thrown in prison, just like Dick wanted. Dick was never tempted to kill Zucco - and the ugly truth was because he thought life in prison was a worse punishment. Even now, at this moment, Zucco was rotting away in a jail cell being forced to think about what he did. The maximum, longest-lasting punishment, exactly as Dick wanted.

And still, even though he defeated Zucco, that man was still hurting his family. Still, after all this time, even in prison, Zucco's actions from that night still caused another family member to die. It was still happening. And Dick was just sitting here in a classroom.

Dick gripped his pencil tightly, even though he had long since stopped giving a damn about writing notes.

Why am I here?!

Dick was getting better - he really was. He had adapted to the culture shock. He wasn't the foreign outsider anymore. He made a new life for himself, as Robin. He made progress in learning how to live without his parents, and aunt, and cousin. He really did.

But now his uncle was dead too. Now, suddenly, Dick was the last of the Flying Graysons. There were no other survivors - no one to share the burden with.

It felt like the night his family died all over again. He was living through the loss of his family again. And with that Dick felt like he lost all the progress he made over these past three years. He was back at square one.

Dick hadn't really moved on at all. He was paralyzed just like his uncle was - sitting still, never moving, never changing, watching the world pass him by. Dick Grayson was stuck here.

He was stuck in this stupid school, in this stupid city. Same old thing, day after day, with no end in sight. He kept moving to different bedrooms in Wayne Manor until he made the full circuit, with no results. It was always the same manor. Same classmates. Same city. Same problem spots on night patrol. Same crime rate that never got better. Same villains that never stayed captured. Nothing changed.

Dick stared down at his desk, unmoving, unflinching.

WHY. AM. I. HERE?!

.

The teacher said, "If you look over the chart on page fifty-two and compare-"

Without warning Dick sprung out of his chair. The chair toppled over with a loud clatter as Dick sprinted to the door. "Dick?! Dick Grayson!" the teacher called, but the boy was out the room before anyone could do anything.

Dick ran down the hallway. He didn't pace himself. He pushed his muscles to their limit and ran full speed. He didn't know if the teacher or anyone else was chasing to try and stop him, but he didn't care. He reached The Point of Not Caring and passed it by far.

He burst through the front doors of the building without even slowing down. If anything, he forced himself to run even faster outside. He pushed past the tiredness in his legs and the ache in his lungs as he sped down the concrete path. He could see the school gates coming up. He could see the street beyond coming towards him very fast.

Dick felt his heart hammering and blood pumping in his ears. And in spite of the ache in his lungs, he screamed. As he ran he made the loudest, longest, angriest scream he ever did.

He ran into the street. He heard a car screech to a stop, but he didn't stop to see what kind of car it was. He just went across the street and kept running. He didn't even know where he was going. But he didn't stop for anything.

.

Author's Notes: (Posted 3/24/2017) Reviewers complimented me for showing Dick's often-forgotten extended family, so they might be upset by Rick's death. But it was important for the story that Dick becomes the Last Flying Grayson.