Chapter 19

Dick sat in lotus position on one of the cots in the Batcave. Jason was sitting behind him, and Dick was leaning back into him ever so slightly. They were running through what happened in Los Angeles for the third time, as Bruce's obsessive need to know everything had yet to be satisfied.

"And then what happened?"

Dick sighed. He had no idea what Bruce wanted him to say that hadn't already been said. "We walked in without Constantine, met the demon bartender, Maze, who brought us to Lucifer. He seemed to know who we were right away. We said no deals without Constantine present. I ended up asking him why he was in LA, and he was impressed by my bravery. He said in return he would tell me that he couldn't help. He also said that he had a therapist named Dr. Linda and offered to have Maze kidnap some of LA's finest therapists and deliver them to Gotham. I talked him down from that."

Tim didn't look up from where he was sitting with a tablet when he said, "Even I can tell that you're leaving something out and I'm not as good at discerning these things as B. If you want to leave something out, you should be better about lying."

"I'm not leaving out anything relevant."

Jason snorted. "He's leaving out the part where Lucifer said that if he wasn't trying out celibacy, he would sleep with Dick. And Dick encouraged it by saying that he would have considered it if there wasn't the whole memory issue."

Dick's betrayed gasp was drowned out by the shocked gasps of everyone in the room. Well if Jason wanted to play dirty, Dick could play dirty. "Yeah, well I was also leaving out the part where Maze said that she would sleep with Jason if he wasn't a zombie, where Lucifer said that Jason had gone to Heaven, not Hell, and where Lucifer asked what kind of psychosis Jason had because he could just smell the daddy issues. You see, I was attempting to respect his privacy, but since he has no respect for mine I figured I should fill in the rest of the missing facts."

It was Jason's turn to let out a betrayed gasp, and Dick shot him a look that told him that he could do this all day. Dick's gloating did not cause him to miss Tim's face palm or the pained look on Bruce's face. Nor did he miss the very scandalized expression on Damian's face. He suppossed that they had been speaking about sex far more than they usually did in front of the boy, and that it wasn't fun imagining family in compromising positions. And even if Damian didn't remember it, he had admitted that Dick was more of a father to him than Bruce.

Shaking his head slightly, Dick decided that it was time for a change in topic before Bruce had time to gather his thoughts and question Jason. "Constantine, what exactly are you doing over there? You just asked us for tools and plywood but never told us what you were doing."

"Glad that somebody finally asked. I am currently trying to build an altar."

Dick snorted. He couldn't help it. It just sort of slipped out. "You, of all people, are building an altar?"

Constantine seemed to consider this for a moment before turning his glinting eyes to Jason. "You have a point there. Jason, mate. I hear that you've been to Heaven recently."

Jason was immediately on guard, his back stiffening. Dick leaned a little further back against him, hoping that Jason would feel comforted by his solid weight. Jason put a hand on his waist and squeezed once, gently before moving his hand away. "If Lucifer is to be believed, I'm covered in Heavenly stench."

"Oh he can be believed, all right. Lucifer has made it a point to never lie. He may omit information and intentionally mislead, but he never outright lies. Which means that you have been to Heaven, and therefore have a much more holy presence than I do."

"Okay…?"

"You should build the altar, it will have a greater chance of working than if I continue to build it."

Dick turned and looked at Jason with a pleading look on his face. The look became smug when Jason grumbled and got up, moving with ease over to Constantine. "You're doing it all wrong."

"Not like I have had much need to build an altar before."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Fair point. Why exactly am I now building an altar?"

"For the summoning."

Tim sighed and got up to take Jason's spot next to Dick. Dick was pleased to note that he had abandoned the tablet and was content to sit next to him and almost touch. When Damian saw that Tim was sitting with Dick, he moved to lie in front of Dick, with his head in Dick's lap. Dick was used to it, Damian used to pull this move all the time, so he automatically brought his hand up to run his fingers through Damian's soft hair. Damian literally purred.

Dick was so distracted that he completely forgot about the conversation that was happening until Bruce's voice demanded, "Summoning who?"

"Bollocks. I bloody well forgot to tell you who we were summoning. Don't worry a hair on your pretty little head, Brucie. We aren't summoning a demon. We are going to summon The Presence."

Dick scratched his head slightly. "Uh...who?"

"The Presence. Think incarnation of the Abrahamic God."

Dick suddenly felt faint. "We just visited the literal devil, and now we are summoning God?"

Constantine shrugged. "Well, he's not really God. Lucifer wouldn't have directed you that way if he was, no matter how much he likes you because that wanker is the king of daddy issues. No, The Presence isn't God, not literally anyways. Just has the same abilities that are commonly associated with God. It's bloody hard to explain to those not involved with the occult."

Dick could feel a headache coming on, so he simply leaned back into Tim and continued to stroke Damian's hair. He really wished that Jason was here cuddling with him as well, but he would settle for two out of three. He looked up and met Jason's eyes. Jason used to be unable to read him, but now his gaze was piercing and seemed to go down to Dick's soul.

Jason understood him far better than most with just a single look, and it made Dick feel like his skin was on fire and like he was exposed and vulnerable. He didn't know if he liked that. Didn't know if he trusted Jason yet enough to want him to have that kind of power over them. Yeah, they had gotten closer recently, but it wasn't enough to overcome all their past interactions.

The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he even recognized the need to say something. "I need to take a nap. Can somebody come and get me when this is ready?"

Everybody was looking at him strangely, which was understandable because this could be the moment that he had been waiting for. The Presence could restore everybody's memory of him, It was everything he claimed he wanted, and yet he was going to take a nap. A nap of all things. Dick knew his behavior was weird but he needed a few moments alone to accept and actually believe that he might actually get what he wanted and an hour of sleep would definitely help.

"You alright?"

Dick looked up at Jason, startled. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just need…" he trailed off unable to put all of his thoughts in words.

"A nap. Yes, so you've said."

Dick glared at him before nodding. "Yes a nap. Anyone else have anything to say about me or my upcoming nap? No? Good."

With that, he gently disentangled himself from Tim and Damian and strode up the stairs. He only looked back after he was certain that nobody would notice. Seeing his family and Constantine from the outside made him hope that he could finally achieve true integration with the people that he had claimed as his own. He wanted them to remember, even if they remembered his supposed death. Shit. He had to tell Jason before Jason's memories were restored and he hated him. He had to tell them all. He just didn't know how.

###

Five minutes after Dick left, Jason was cursing at the stupid altar that he was totally not failing to build. It was going fine. It's not like he had never been in a church for reasons other than for protection from the weather when he was still living on the streets. For obvious reasons, small Jason had been more concerned with absorbing all the heat that he could before the Priest chased him off, than of admiring the altar. Now that attitude was kicking him in the ass. "Brat. Google images of altars for me. I have to know what I'm supposed to be building."

"Are you incompatent Todd? I will not have your imbecility ruin my reunion with Grayson with my memories fully intact. Tell me now if you are not up for the job and I shall do it myself."

"Like you know what an altar looks like either. I highly doubt that Talia was taking her murder child to church. In fact, I highly doubt Talia has stepped foot into church in decades if not a century, if ever. I just need an image to model this altar after, so like I said, Tater Tot, you should pull up an image for me on Google."

"Todd, I may be small in comparison to your hulking form, but I am not so small that I cannot kick your ass if I wish too."

Alfred let out a loud tut, which made Damian look somewhat contrite. The brat knew better than to swear when Alfred could hear. And Alfred heard everything. Always. That said, the kid did pull up an image on his tablet and handed it over to Jason for reference. He then announced that he was going to go see if Dick was still awake and would like to take his nap on the couch while Damian watched a movie.

Jason didn't mind that Damian was leaving. He was obviously feeling impatient, and Jason could do without the kid looking over his shoulder constantly, though it was nice to realize that the kid wasn't an unfeeling robot as previously assumed. Dick had said that they had agreed that they were more than brothers and partners. He wondered if that meant that he had been like the kid's father. God knew that Bruce wasn't much of a father on the best of days. On the worst, well Jason didn't like to talk about those days.

Jason smashed his thumb with the hammer while he was brooding over Bruce's lack of parenting skills. Cursing at his own stupidity, he didn't realize that Tim had gotten up until the teen was standing over his shoulder. "I don't think that you're doing that right. You should try looking up instructions."

"I'm doing fine. I have that "'been to Heaven juju' going for me. Do you actually want something, or are you just here to harass me over my building skills?"

Tim hesitated, which is how Jason knew that he actually wanted something and that he didn't know how to ask. Jason took a breath, and adjusted his tone to be more gentle instead of brisque. "Take your time, Timbo. My altar and I will wait."

"Do you think that Dick was acting strange earlier? When he left for his nap, I mean."

"I don't think that I know him well enough to make a judgement on that."

"Funny, he said practically the same things about you. But if you had to answer, what would you say? I know that you have an opinion. You always have an opinion. That you share loudly with anyone who will listen, willingly or not."

Jason rolled his eyes. So he shared his opinion on the status of the Replacement's relationship with Superboy one time with a burglar he had tied up. Big whoop. The kid didn't have to bring it up in every conversation. He was just being petty at this point. Though Tim did have a point, Jason did have an opinion. "I think that he's overwhelmed. I don't think that he's allowed himself to believe that we will get our memories back until Lucifer told us who could bring them back."

Tim gave him an appraising look. "You don't think that's it, do you?"

"No. Sometimes, he gets this look on his face that I recognize when I look in the mirror. He's traumatized in a huge way. More so than the average vigilante, or even the average Gotham vigilante. I don't know what happened to him, but if I had to guess, I would say that we already knew what happened and he doesn't want us to remember. Maybe us remembering would force him to revisit it or something."

Tim nodded slowly. "Wow. That was surprisingly deep. Think it has anything to do with the thing he mentioned about everyone thinking he was dead?"

Jason shrugged. He didn't know what Tim wanted from him. It's not like he could read Dick's mind. And Jason himself may be traumatized, but that didn't mean that he sang Kumbaya with all other traumatized people of the world and that they shared a 'no secrets' pact. Or some sort of mind-link. He didn't know Dick any better than Tim. Or maybe slightly better. Though apparently Tim knew him better when they had their memories so maybe Tim would know the answer himself when their memories returned.

"No comment?"

"I have thoughts and opinions but none of them are of consequence. I don't know enough to make anything other than a guess."

Tim looked like he was about to ask something else, but Jason shot him a look before glancing at Bruce and then back at Tim. Tim saw the look, he must have, because he shut up. Which was good, because Bruce didn't need to hear anymore of this conversation than he already had.

Speaking of Bruce, he really should have offered to help build this altar because building from a Google Image was worse than building from IKEA instructions, which was pretty fucking bad. Taking a deep breath, he focused. He could do this. He built bombs from scratch, he made his own ammunition, he was a fucking boss. He could totally build an altar if he wanted to. It was nothing compared to the stuff he did on a daily basis.

It took another hour, a lot of cursing and a shot of tequila for Jason to finish the altar. He was proud of it, even if it was lopsided and creaked every time someone so much as sneezed. Constantine wandered over and looked at his creation for the first time since he handed it off to Jason. "Not bad. Jeeves, be a dear and go fetch Dick and as many candles as you have in this God forsaken mausoleum."

Alfred's mustache twitched, which gave Jason an inkling over just how annoyed Alfred was at being called 'Jeeves.' Nevertheless, Alfred spun around in a manner that would look ridiculous on anyone other than the stately butler. It also gave the nonverbal "fuck you" that Alfred was going for. Constantine must have read it loud and clear because he looked down and shuffled his boots. Jason was glad to know that Alfred could instill shame in others without saying a word the same way that he could instil it in Jason and the rest of his family. It was good to know that others recognized Alfred as King of All Things Living.

A few minutes later, Dick and Damian came down back into the Batcave. Dick seemed to be in remarkably better spirits, though who could say if that was an act or not. That said, he did have a slightly apprehensive look on his face and refused to meet Jason's eyes. He just smiled and spoke to Tim softly. At least Tim seemed happy, he was practically beaming under the attention that he was currently receiving.

Alfred returned, pushing a cart containing every single candle that was in the manor. Jason was impressed that it had taken the old butler so little time to gather the candles and return. He truly was magical. It was a miracle that he still worked for Bruce, all things considered. Jason decided then and there that if Bruce ever tried to fire Alfred again, Jason would use his secret account in the Cayman Islands filled with all of his drug money to hire Alfred himself. Not that the man would accept his hard earned money.

Alfred handed over the candles to Constantine and they all watched as he arranged them in a specific order, though only Constantine knew exactly how they were being arranged. Jason thought that the ornate pattern was swirly with sharp edges, almost tribal. Jason wouldn't mind having a tattoo with a similar pattern.

Putting his fingers together, Constantine muttered a spell that lit the candles one by one. He then stood in front of the altar like he was some sort of priest and spread his arms wide. "Voco super faciem suam ut det mihi quod facere multum comitatu mecum ad meliorationem humanitatem" (I call upon The Presence to grant me his company and to make a deal with me for the betterment of humanity). Jason personally thought that Constantine was being a tad melodramatic with the use of Latin and the whole "betterment of humanity" thing. But who was he to judge? Tim called him the King of Melodrama all the time.

Jason's musings were cut short when all of the candles all went out with a "whoosh" at the same time. The temperature dropped a few degrees and the air practically felt so charged that it practically sang. Jason inched closer towards Damian, putting himself slightly in front of his youngest brother. Not that he would admit it, even under the threat of disembowelment.

Suddenly, a man appeared in front of them. He was sort of a round man, with a mustache and he was wearing a suit and tie. He was facing Constantine and looked annoyed to be in his presence. Considering how Constantine didn't look surprised, Jason guessed that this guy was The Presence. "John Constantine. You have summoned me to make a deal for the betterment of humanity? Based on my previous experiences with you, I highly doubt that to be the case."

Constantine didn't say anything, but the man looked somewhat interested before turning to face Dick. "Oh I see. I've been summoned to help the world regain their memories of you, Richard Grayson."

Dick bit his lip and nodded. "It's good to see you again. I hope that you didn't run into further trouble."

The Presence tilted his head. "Your concern is genuine, I am touched." He then turned to face Jason. "Jason Todd, it is good to see you among the living once more. The universe made a mistake with your death, and I was glad to see that it rectified it."

"What do you mean that the universe made a mistake?"

"You were never supposed to die. By the time I saw your death, it was too late, but I foresaw that the universe would correct its mistake so I did not interfere."

Jason must have looked puzzled because Constantine cut in. "The Presence can is all knowing, all seeing, and all that crap. He also can bring back the dead. Now can we focus on the matter at hand or not? Can you bring back the world's memories of Dick Grayson or not?"

Jason decided that he would unpack that emotional bombshell later, instead focusing on what was happening in the moment. Like the fact that The Presence looked momentarily annoyed with Constantine's change of topic, before his face slipped back into a calm facade. That was interesting, he wondered what their story was. It was pretty obvious that there was a mutual dislike.

The Presence finally nodded, "Yes, I can."

Dick looked enthusiastic. "Great! What are we waiting for?"

The Presence looked at him for a moment before shaking his head. "First you must do something for me. I cannot simply interfere without receiving something in return. As Constantine himself said, we must make a deal."

It was Dick's turn to look annoyed. His face flashed between anger and bitterness before he put on a more congenial smile. "You said that you owed me a favor, remember? Well, it's time to pay up."

"No. The favor should be saved for a later date. You will know when the time comes."

Dick exploded with a velocity that honestly surprised Jason. He hadn't realized that the older man had such a temper on him. He liked it though. Liked knowing that Dick wasn't as perfect and put together as he seemed. Constantine, surprisingly enough, was the one who stopped Dick's angry rant. "Read between the lines, Dickie-boy. The Presence has the power to see into the future and bring back the dead. He's telling you that you will need the favor that he owes at a later date. Don't be stupid and waste it now, when you'll need it later. And I would bloody well like to know what you did to get The Presence to owe you a favor. I'd like to get in on that action."

Dick sighed, rubbed a hand down his face, looking more and more frustrated by the second. Bruce stepped forward, arms crossed, grimace etched into his face. "What the hell do you want?"

The Presence once again looked peeved. Jason could understand, Bruce's attitude could annoy the most patient and understanding of people. "I lost my hat. I wish for you to find it for me."

Everyone blinked. Then looked at each other in shared shock and then blinked again. The one thought in Jason's head was "What the fuck?"

The Presence just looked straight at Dick. "I find you to be a refreshing Richard Grayson. Most heroes are jaded, but you still carry hope like a beacon in your heart, despite all that you have been through. I see your tragedy and the suffering that you have been through. The pain that those closest to you have caused without thought towards your well being. But you have not allowed this pain to mold you into something that you are not.

"I want to reward this by asking you and your family to simply find my hat and return it to me. You may ask other heroes for any assistance that you shall require. In return, I shall grant your wish to your exact specifications."

Dick glanced at Jason before making eye contact with each of his other brothers, Alfred, and Bruce. His eye contact with Constantine was prolonged, probably because Constantine had the most knowledge in making deals with supernatural beings. He seemed to find an answer there, because he turned back to The Presence and nodded. "Deal."

###

Tim watched as Dick paced nervously. They had decided to call Zatanna when Constantine had simply kicked up his feet, asked Alfred for a magazine, and declared that his work was done until they found the hat. The Presence had left as soon as the deal was brokered, which left all the occupants in the room feeling a nervous excitement that was almost frenzied in its potency.

Tim glanced at Dick and watched as the man turned to face Jason, opened his mouth, and then closed it, before resuming his pacing. He had done this at least three times already, which lead Tim to believe that Dick had something he wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it. Or perhaps, he knew how Jason would perceive whatever it was. Jason's temper was a mighty thing to behold. Though judging how Dick went off on The Presence, the guy who was supposed to put his life back on track, Dick could hold his own in the temper department.

Zatanna arrived with her usual dramatic flourish and was all too happy to help them find the missing hat. Especially considering that it was The Presence's hat and Constantine refused to help. Tim was unafraid to admit that he was curious about how she was going to track this mysterious hat when she had never seen it before, but he got his answer when Zatanna clasped both of her hands in Dick's and had him lean down to touch his forehead with hers. "I need you to think about that hat as hard as you can. Do you have the image in your mind?"

Dick's forehead creased in concentration. He chewed on his bottom lip for a second before nodding. "Yes."

"Okay. Keep thinking about that hat while I cast the spell. I'll let you know when you can stop."

Dick nodded again, obviously concentrating hard. Tim thought it was funny how hard Dick was concentrated when he was probably just as smart as the rest of the Batfam. They were all certifiable geniuses and he highly doubted that Dick was the outlier. So it was funny that Dick was so obviously concentrating on something that probably took less brain power than ordering dinner. It just showed how badly Dick wanted it, Tim mused.

Zatanna's eyes opened with a snap, glowing brightly. "Dnif eht tah gnieb dleh ni Drahcir S'nosyarg seiromem dna wohs us eht htap ot ti!" (Find the hat being held in Richard Grayson's memories and show us the path to it!). A golden string shot out in front of them winding its way through the cave and out one of the secret entrances.

"Okay, I'm done." They all watched as Zatanna dropped Dick's hands and inspected the gold string. She pursed her lips, and plucked the string three times, listening carefully to the melodic sound each time. She glanced up at them and smiled. "I'm pretty sure this is a long thread. We need to go outside to see what direction it is going. Once we figure it out, we can portal in that direction. The thread will adjust direction from our location."

Dick nodded his head one too many times to be smooth and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Cool. Let's suit up and get this shit over with."

Tim had to stop himself from face palming when Constantine spoke up for the first time since Zatanna's arrival. "Have fun you bloody wankers. And can somebody please get me a decent fag?"

Zatanna shot him a look and cast "Piz ruoy htuom!" (zip your mouth) which caused a giant cartoon zipper to replace Constantine's mouth and it to be firmly zipped closed. They got into uniform and exited the Batcave to the muffled sounds of Constantine's indignant squawking.

###

Robin breathed in the fresh ocean air and watched as Nightwing twitched nervously next to Red Hood. He had been twitching more and more the closer they got to the end of the golden thread. Now he looked like he was either going to throw up or fall into a violent fit. Robin didn't know what his problem was. They were very close to being able to remember who he was. He should be excited to remember Robin, not nervous. Perhaps he was afraid that Robin would think less of him when he regained his memories. Robin could understand this fear, he had high standards, and tended to think very little of those around them. It must be hard trying to gain his approval.

The golden thread led them to an old abandoned lighthouse. Red Robin let out a whispered, "Spooky," which was why Robin would never respect him as his predecessor.

Nightwing walked up to the door and knocked. When everybody looked at him, he shrugged. "What? Like you have a better idea?"

Robin could think of multiple better ideas. Most of which involved sneaking in and finding what they needed so that they could leave and he could regain his memories, and all would be right in the world once again. Right when he was about to tell Nightwing all of this, the door to the lighthouse swung open. Standing in the doorway was an Atlantian with a stupid looking smile on his face that made it obvious that he injested sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns for breakfast. He must eat that same disgusting cereal as Nightwing.

"Hello friends! How can I help you on this fine day?"

Robin glanced at the sky, which looked like it would open up and rain at any moment. This guy was obviously mentally challenged. It would be difficult to gain his trust well enough to get the hat. That only left one course of action. Slowly, Robin unsheathed his katana. Unfortunately, Nightwing noticed the movement and gripped his wrist in what was a clear warning.

Clearing his throat, Nightwing put on a large smile. "Hi. We are looking for a hat that our friend lost earlier. Do you perhaps have it?"

"I have many things! I collect things from the world of man! Would you like to see my collection?"

"Of course!"

Robin reluctantly followed everybody inside. Red Robin, Red Hood, and Zatanna seemed all too pleased to follow Nightwing's crazy plan. Seriously, what sort of plan involved letting their target be aware of their presence and using the front door? What plan involved following a stranger through the house, into what could very well be a trap? Robin was glad that his father seemed to be just as uncomfortable with this plan as Robin was. At least there was one member of his family with some semblance of sanity left.

The Atlantian chattered away uselessly as he pointed out all of his so called "treasures." It all looked like a bunch of junk to Robin, but he supposed that his knowledge on Atlantean culture was lacking and that these items might very well be worth far more than Robin assumed. As it was, Robin just saw human junk. Ahead of him, Red Hood made a comment about the Atlantean being "a real life Ariel." Robin did not understand this reference. To the best of his knowledge, Ariel was a mermaid from a popular children's story. Pure fiction. She was hardly an Atlantean, a species which was very real.

Finally, they reached a room and the Atlantean spun around and proudly held out his arms. "This is the room with all that is worn on one's head." Robin would hardly call that accurate. A fork is not worn on one's head, but he wasn't going to argue.

Nightwing made appreciative noises before eying a hat that must have belonged to The Presence because the golden thread was attached to it. "This is it! Can I please return it to my friend?"

The Atlantean frowned. "It's mine."

Nightwing's smile became slightly more strained. "I think that we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Nightwing. And this is Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, Zatanna, and Batman. What is your name?"

The Atlantean looked pleased by the change in topic. Or perhaps he was pleased that Nightwing had asked for his name. Nightwing did have a way of getting in one's head and making the smallest actions worthy of pride. "My name is Arion."

Nightwing nodded. Robin could see that the others were waiting to see where Nightwing was going with this. He could safely admit in his own mind that he too, was curious. Nightwing for his part, ignored their looks and simply said, "So Arion, we really need to bring that hat to our friend. He doesn't want a new one, he wants this one. And I get it, finders keepers. So how about we trade for it?"

The Atlantean, Arion, paused and seemed to think about it. Finally, he looked straight at Zatanna, "I like her hat. But not enough for a trade."

Nightwing walked closer, swiping the hat off of Zatanna's head as he did. With a dramatic flourish of his fingers, four batarangs appeared. "What if I included these along with Z's hat?" Robin could see that Red Hood was stifling his laughter as Batman surreptitiously checked his utility belt before glaring at Nightwing.

Arion reached out and cautiously touched one of the batarangs. His eyes were blown wide with wonder as his finger traced along the sharp edges. Finally he withdrew his hand, still looking dazed. "It's a deal."

Nightwing handed over the batarangs and Zatanna's hat. "Hope you don't mind Z."

"No problem, N. I want to see The Presence return everyone's memories. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Nightwing gingerly grabbed The Presence's hat from where it was propped up. He looked at it before eying Red Hood. He opened his mouth, as if to say something before snapping it shut. Robin had no idea what that was about. Nightwing had looked like he wanted to say something all day but the words never seemed to be able to leave his mouth. Robin didn't know Nightwing as well as he once had, but he was fairly certain that this was unusual behavior for the man. From what he had seen so far, Nightwing was a chatterbox that never shut up.

Nightwing rubbed his thumb across the brimb of the hat, before giving them all an obviously fake smile. "Guess we should all go home, huh? Get the world their memories back?"

That seemed to be the cue that everybody was waiting for. They walked outside and Zatanna summoned a portal for them. Nightwing seemed to linger for a moment. Robin watched as Nightwing breathed in the salty air and seemed to exist. Robin could clearly see the tension in the older man's shoulders as he let out a breath and walked through the portal. There was definitely something going on with him.

###

Nightwing watched with trepidation as Constantine once again went through the process of summoning The Presence. It was too much. He hadn't been able to confess about how exaggerated the longevity of his death had been. Nor had he been able to confess why he had joined Spyral in the first place. Everything was just so messed up. He just didn't know how to put it all into words. Not to his family at least. He couldn't even talk about it to Constantine and the man seemed to know exactly what had happened.

Nightwing knew that moving forward was a bad idea. He should sit everyone down and explain what had happened before they gained their memories back and made assumptions. The few moments of discomfort would be worth not permanently damaging all the meaningful relationships in his life. But everytime he opened his mouth to say something, the words got stuck in his throat and he felt like he was choking. The panic that would then set in was debilitating. So Nightwing did what he was good at. He kept his mouth shut and plastered a smile on his face.

Any option of telling his family before The Presence arrived became moot because he arrived with a small flourish. "Richard Grayson. I see that you have once again come through for me, My Child."

Nightwing winced slightly as he handed over the hat. "Please don't call me that. A deal's a deal. So, how exactly do we go about this?"

The Presence cocked his head slightly. "Perhaps you wish to tell everyone something before they regain their memories?"

"I don't have the right words, nor do I want to talk about this."

The Presence nodded. "I see. The turmoil in your heart is quite apparent. Do not fear the dark feelings that are inside you. Let them out and let them go. Do not let them fester, or they will take control of your life the way they control your mentor's."

Nightwing nodded once, but he was not pleased to be receiving this advice in front of his family. If this were to be a private conversation, he would be far more interested and invested in what was being said. As it was, he just wanted to get this day over with. "I'll keep that in mind. Can we please get on with this?"

"As you wish. Close your eyes Richard Grayson. Relax. I would like you to think of what you wish to happen."

"I want the world to remember that there is another Wayne child. I want them to remember the original Robin, and the speculation that he went on to become Nightwing. I want people to remember watching me grow up, whether it be as Robin or as Richard Grayson."

"I understand. What do you wish for them to forget?"

"I don't want them to remember my unmasking. Or what the Crime Syndicate did to me. I want everyone to forget the inconsistencies."

"Inconsistencies?"

"Yes. Like Amy Rorhbach. She knew me before and forgot me. So I made a new story about being an orphan and growing up on the street, which she will be very confused by when she remembers me. That kind of inconsistency."

The Presence nodded once. "Is there anybody that you wish to remember everything about you?"

Nightwing bit his lip for a second before slowly nodding. "My family. Batman, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, and Alfred. Also I would love it if Donna, Wally, and Roy remembered too."

"Are you certain?"

Nightwing let out a bitter laugh. "As certain as I can be. I can't live like this anymore, and I don't want to live a lie either. Which is what altering their memories would be."

"You are a very interesting being, Richard Grayson. From you, I may one day learn what it means to be human."

Constantine let out a low whistle, startling Nightwing. Everyone had been so silent that he had forgotten that they were there. In a way, he was grateful that Constantine had ruined the moment. He was once again aware of his surroundings.

Constantine gave a little clap. "High compliments coming from you. Now can we get this shit-show on the road? Some of us have places to be."

The Presence twitched. Nightwing really wanted to ask why they seemed to dislike each other so much, but now wasn't the time for that. The Presence let out a sigh, like he knew exactly what Nightwing was thinking. He probably did, considering the whole "God" thing.

The Presence interrupted his thoughts by clearing his throat. "Shall we, Mr. Grayson?"

Nightwing shrugged a single shoulder. "If you wouldn't mind."

The Presence raised his arms slightly, and the air seemed to get heavy. Nightwing could hear his blood rushing in his ears, and the effort that it took to draw in a single breath was almost unbearable. Then The Presence snapped his arms to the sides and the air returned to normal. Nightwing's ears popped painfully, and he was pushed back slightly by a fierce ripple in the air.

When nothing else occured, Nightwing looked around for a second. He felt no different. He wondered how the others felt. If they remembered him. His heart was almost painful from how anxious he was waiting for the answer.

The Presence gave him a small smile and vanished. Nightwing wanted to call out for him to wait, but suddenly his arms were full of one excited magician. "Z?"

"N! I can't believe that you're here! That you are alive!"

"You know me Z. I always end up on my feet."

"Don't joke. You should have come to me sooner, I could have helped."

Nightwing looked away from her soulful eyes and surveyed the room. Batman had left at some point. Nightwing wasn't sure why he was surprised. He had never expected a tearful reunion with his mentor, but a pat on the back would have been nice. Finally, he looked back at Zatanna. "Sorry Z. I wasn't in a good place. I'm still not in a good place. I don't think that I was ready to ask for help until now."

Zatanna nodded and hugged him tighter for a second. "I get it N." She let go of him and took a step back. "Call me when you feel up to it. I'd love to get a drink and you can tell me about all your adventures since we last talked."

"Deal."

With a grand flourish and some smoke, Zatanna was gone. Nightwing turned to look at his brothers, only to receive a fist to the face. Clutching his face, Nightwing spat out blood. He didn't think his cheekbone was broken, but it was definitely fractured. Above him, Red Hood was panting and shaking.

"You don't fucking do that to m— another Robin! You don't fake your fucking death, you fucking shit for brains asshole! You just don't fucking do that!"

With that Red Hood stalked off with Red Robin following behind him. Robin lingered for all of a moment before following after his brothers, leaving Nightwing alone on the Batcave floor with a fractured cheekbone and a broken heart.

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A/N: So sorry about the lack of updates. To those of you who were worried about me, I am okay. I had a few health scares and I have been focusing on school work because I had to drop last semester (due to poor health).

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I know that the world is a very scary place at the moment. Nobody knows what is going to happen next and everybody is scared. Not to mention, being locked in your house probably isn't helping make people feel better. I hope that this update will at least give you a few moments of peace and happiness during these scary times.

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I am giving you all virtual hugs! I hope that you are all well and that you guys continue to stay safe and healthy!

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