Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,
Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.
They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed.
Speak not a whispered word about them, or they'll send the Talon for your head.

(Gotham's Lullaby)


The factory was larger than he remembered. The ceiling was decked with steel beams and towers, old machinery littered across the cement floor. At the center of the roof, a skylight allowed moonlight to creep in, turning everything a haunted silver color. Had it not been outside the city, Batman would have suspected a lot more of his drug busts to be here.

It was empty, as far as he could tell. But he had a feeling Dick didn't come unprepared. He wasn't stupid.

"Remember this place, Bruce?" a voice echoed from the beams above him.

It sent shivers down the man's spine.

Batman used his grappling gun to propel him towards the steel platforms. They swung slightly under his weight, attached to the ceiling by rusty chains.

There was a cackle, but it wasn't the familiar, childish chuckle. It was dark. Mirthless.

"Do you remember how Two-Face told you to choose? To pick one of us to save?" the voice came again.

"Nightwing!" Batman yelled.

"That!" the Talon crashed down on the beam, head slowly rising. "Is not my name."

"It is," Batman said sadly. "What did they do to you, Dick? What did they do to the point that you could no longer remember yourself?"

"Oh I remember just fine!" the young man spat. He pulled the Talon mask off, throwing it to the floor far below them. It made a slapping sound against the cement. Harsh blue eyes burned into the cowl before him. "I remember how you gave me this apologetic look before running in the other direction. I remember watching as you dove for her as she fell, as I dangled there by a noose!"

"She was an innocent civilian, Dick!"

"And what was I? A pawn? Another Robin you could kick under the mat?" he sneered. He stepped towards Batman, hatred all consuming. "If Batgirl hadn't come, I would have died! And you wouldn't have cared."

"That's a lie, Dick. Your memory is warped. You know how devastated I was after that happened! Do you not recall the talk we had? Do you not recall me telling you how much I hated myself? That next day I tried to get you to hand over the uniform, but you told me you would never stop fighting against people like Two-Face. Remember?"

Dick's frown deepened into a scowl. "No."

And he lunged for his mentor.


He was faster than Batman had remembered, though it had been a while since they sparred. The worst part was that he wasn't familiar anymore. His old acrobatic way of combat, jumping high and flipping easily—there was almost no trace of it. He was agile and flexible, but he was restricted too. Bent on only one outcome.

Death.

Try as he may, though, Dick couldn't penetrate Batman's defenses.

Bruce swerved to the side to avoid the sword, and he sent a roundhouse kick to his son's neck.

Dick stooped, momentarily stunned, and Bruce used the opportunity to punch him a few times in the gut and along the back of his rib-cage. The noise was sickening to his ears.

While bent over, Dick tackled Batman by the knees, and sent his mentor to the ground with a painful crunch. Straddling him, he brought the sword around, but Batman moved out of the way as it came sailing down where his face had been. The sword sank into the steel, lodging itself in the chain-like surface. Bruce head-butted Dick and rolled away from him as the young man attempted to free his weapon.

"So you're here to kill me then," Bruce decided, sounding barely winded, though his breath was more labored than it should have been.

Dick yanked the sword out, face checkered with rage. "What gave you that idea?"

Another rush of anger sent Dick flying at Batman, Talon and Knight, fighting fiercely, like two birds of prey. Dick swiped at Batman at every angle he could, while the latter mainly deflected with his eskrima sticks.

"Fight back!" the boy yelled.

But Bruce avoided harming him as much as possible. This wasn't a fight. It was an evaluation.

When Dick finally found an opening, Batman captured his sword between his forearms and jerked the weapon sideways, bending Dick around with it. In a sort of back-bend, Dick was stuck on his knees, twisted painfully in a backward surrender.

Swearing, he used Batman as leverage and flipped over the man behind him, bringing his sword with him and nipping the top of Batman's cowl.

They panted heavily, staring one another down.

This time, after a series of blows and kicks, they came face to face. Realizing that Dick was not as skilled with his sword as he appeared, Batman intercepted the blade with his eskrima sticks. Dick grit his teeth as his arms trembled against Bruce's strength. His eyes were dark marbles of hatred.

Then it struck Bruce what had happened to his son over the last year.

Strip away the sword and the wild look in Dick's eyes, and it was clear as day.

Dick had become him.

He'd lost the light that had made him Dick Grayson. He had lost the bright smile and lackadaisical nature that changed Batman from a dark figure wrought on vengeance into a classified 'hero'. He'd been transformed from an orphan into a dark and dangerous force.

And maybe it wasn't just the last few months that were responsible.

Maybe Bruce had ruined his son after all.

He'd turned a nine year old child into a weapon. He'd removed the mist of naivety and innocence from his eyes. He'd opened the door to all kinds of horrors. And now his first spark of hope had become the worst thing of all.

A mirror.

"Dick," Batman breathed softly, a different tone, an honest tone. He held him there in the union of their weapons. "Dick…I'm sorry."

Dick's eyes widened briefly. His hold on his sword slipped just slightly.

They stared at each other through a shield of arms.

And then the Talon shut his eyes tightly and something sank into Batman's stomach.


Bruce stumbled backwards, hand on his wound, shocked, hurt, disappointed. Dick held a small, bloody knife in his left hand and his sword in the other. His eyes were still closed, like he was fighting an internal storm.

"It's too late," he said finally.

Bruce grunted and fell to his knees, his glove coming back glossy and red.

"It's never too late, Dick," he said solemnly.

His son approached him now, eyes open and glazed, sword in front of him.

Briefly, as he stared up at his son, Batman wondered if this was it.

"Stop!"

The figures came crashing down around them. Dick halted, but he didn't seem surprised.

Tigress, Batgirl, Robin, and Red Hood blocked his path.

Dick narrowed his eyes at the hooded man. Had the new vigilante replaced him? That thought made something inside of Dick twinge, but he buried it away. So what if he'd been replaced?

It didn't matter. It wouldn't matter.

"Get out of my way," he said coolly.

They shook their heads, said nothing, stared him down.

Dick raised his weapon to the obstacles before him.

"Then I'll just have to spill more blood."


Thanks for the support, guys! Next chapter up soon!