The rooftops moved in and out of focus. Nightwing leaped, blinking rapidly until his vision cleared enough to find the other side. He caught himself with a stumble. Batman was already on the next rooftop, so he grit his teeth and pressed on. Every step pounded through his skull like the strike of a hammer.

They'd all protested when he suited up. But all of Robin's tests had come up clean, so there wasn't much they could do without physically restraining him. He had to do this. If he got through tonight in one piece, they would finally leave him be.

Robin had demanded he and Nightwing be paired, but Batman told him to go to Crime Alley with Black Bat. Red Robin and Spoiler took east, and he and Nightwing would take the docks. The moment he heard Batman say it, Nightwing's heart sank. They never patrolled the docks together. When they did, it was code for 'we need to talk and Agent A needs to stay out of it'.

But Nightwing didn't want any of his siblings to see them argue, either. So he followed.

At Pier Seven, both of them turned their comms off. At pier Nine, they swung up to their usual haunt, the rooftop of one of Wayne-techs abandoned warehouses. Batman always kept a few empty, just in case they'd need them in the cowl. This was the only permanently retired one.

Nightwing was already exhausted when they finally stopped. He tried to hide his heavy breathing, but all it did was make him gasp even more pathetically. Batman looked at him, the expression blank behind the mask. He shook his head.

"Fine in the field, you said. You've always been a poor liar."

Nightwing caught his breath. "Shut up."

"I will as soon as you explain your atrocious behaviour."

"I wouldn't have to act like this if you all just believed me!"

"You want me to believe you're fine when you're cursing in front of Robin? Telling your siblings to 'fuck off'? None of those things are fine, Nightwing."

Batman was right, wasn't he? The way he'd treated them…

Maybe Nightwing shouldn't be allowed to call them family. Maybe they were yet another thing he had to give up after coming back from Spyral. A legacy the new him didn't deserve.

He grasped the sides of his head. Batman became a black blur, then moved back into focus. The roof spun. "Fuck."

"When did your mouth become this foul?"

Nightwing stared at his feet. They stained red, thick blood spreading all around his ankles. "Tiger, I… liked messing with him."

"What?"

Nightwing moved his feet, but the blood clung to it. Was it real? He paced back and forth, but every time he looked down, the red remained. He crouched down to touch it, but his fingers only found air. It was fake.

Wasn't it?

"Nightwing."

"Sorry, I'm just… "

Batman grabbed his shoulders and pulled him upright. "We are going back to the cave, and you are not leaving until I have answers. Robin must've missed something."

There it was. First, it would be his old room in the Manor. They'd put him through therapy, but it wouldn't help — he'd still be broken. Then they'd leave him in the Cave, where they could pump him full of medication. He'd try to escape, but Batman would lock him in the medbay. Handcuff him to the bed. Sedate him. Force his body to stay still while his mind was stuck in the past, repeating every bullet, every knife, every face. Forever.

"Talk to me, Nightwing."

Grayson pushed Batman away. "Don't," he said. He kept his eyes forward, away from the red puddle below his feet. Batman didn't let go. He held on to his upper arm with a firm grip, using the other to turn his comm back on. As Grayson struggled, the hand around his bicep got tighter and tighter, until the panic made him tear and claw at his attacker.

Someone cursed and he fell backwards, slamming his head into the concrete. His hands dug into his scalp as his head hurt and hurt and hurt. He pushed his forehead against the cold ground, desperate to relieve the tension behind his eyes.

A hand traced the scars on his bare back. A hand that wasn't supposed to be there. Grayson shot Tiger a look, making him step back.

The other man looked at him with unmasked pity. "Are you sure you can handle this? We can switch places."

Grayson looked at the leather whip in Tiger's hand. He already knew what being whipped felt like, and if he had to choose between getting hurt or hurting someone… well, he didn't want to add torture to his record.

"Just get on with it."

"Face forward. Wouldn't want to ruin your pretty face."

"At least people would stop mistaking me for a hooker."

Grayson felt Tiger tense behind him, getting ready to strike. "Always joking with the foul mouth." The whip flashed down. Three, four times. At first it just stung, his back sensitive and throbbing with angry red lashes. At the eleventh, Grayson finally felt his skin break, fiery blood welling up and streaking down the wound. He grit his teeth and endured.

Tiger whipped eight more times before he stopped.

"Okay?"

Grayson spit red saliva on the ground. He'd bitten his tongue, the iron salty in his mouth.

"Stop stalling," he said. If Tiger went easy on him their targets could get suspicious, and then a few extra lashes would be the last of his problems. "Ten more."

"Ten more what?"

Grayson paused. Tiger's voice sounded weird and distant. Was he fucking around? To joke when you're being tortured is one thing, but to joke while torturing? Was he serious right now? When Grayson turned Tiger was gone, replaced by a black blur. He blinked, and Batman's grim face came into focus. He had a hand on Grayson's back, cupping the old whip scars that marred it.

"B?"

"Easy, Nightwing."

They were on a roof at Pier nine, the weather cold and the wind cutting. His Nightwing suit covered his back. There was no Tiger. There was no whip. He was Nightwing right now.

"The Batmobile will be here in ten minutes," Batman said. "Do you think you can make it down?"

"What… "

"You hit your head and need medical attention. I'm taking you back."

Back. He remembered not wanting to go back. "No."

Batman sighed. "Stop acting like a toddler."

Nightwing rubbed the back of his head. When he pulled back, his hand was red. "Just give me a minute."

"The sooner we get back to the cave, the sooner I can." Batman stalked towards him, and Nightwing danced away.

"I'm not going back to the Cave."

Batman scowled. "Letting you go out was a mistake."

Nightwing seethed. How dare he. Just, how fucking dare this man who thought the entire world belonged to him. "Like that's your choice!"

"When you're in my city, it is." Batman's left foot shifted back, and Nightwing sprung away before he even moved. You don't spar with someone your whole life without learning their tells.

"Then I'll gladly stay out of Gotham! This fucking city can rot in hell!"

"I don't want to hurt you," Batman said, "but I will if I have to. You're not acting like yourself right now."

The unfairness of it made him want to sob. Why? Why now? Why him? He'd been back from Spyral for two years! He had been doing such a good job of hiding, of impersonating who he used to be. He'd battled himself every morning and won, only to find out victory had a price. Every day he'd taken a coin and pushed it into its slot, but then one morning, his pockets turned up empty and everything broke down.

He knew one thing for sure. If he went back to the Cave now, Batman would never let him leave.

"I won't go back."

Batman's frown deepened. It had been a long time since Nightwing had seen that expression aimed at him, worry mixed in with anger. No, that wasn't right. Batman couldn't be worried about him. He had to be annoyed, or embarrassed of the train wreck his first Robin had become.

"The penthouse, then. Or the Watchtower." Batman moved slowly, trying to make himself nonthreatening. He looked like a lion stalking a gazelle.

"No."

"So you'll just stay here with a concussion? I'm sure Robin and the others would worry themselves sick."

Low blow, but Nightwing had been expecting it. "I'll call them tomorrow. From Blüdhaven."

Batman reached for his belt. "Don't do this, Dick."

Dick. Like he was Dick right now. What a fucking joke.

Nightwing tensed, forcing himself to focus. If he ran, Batman would catch him — he was in no state to win a game of rooftop tag. The only way to escape was to incapacitate Batman long enough to slip away. A tall order, but he'd beaten worse odds.

"You did this, you know," Nightwing said. "You were the only reason I was at Spyral. Everything I did there, that's on you. Does it really matter you never pulled the trigger with your own hands? Does it? Everything would've been better if you'd stayed dead. Everything. At least then I could've been here for Damian. He deserves a real father, one who doesn't make him fucking miserable. Because you do, Bruce. You fucking do."

They stared at each other, Batman's scowl so sharp it cut diamond. Nightwing took a deep breath and steadied his stance. Without a word, Batman lunged.

They fought sloppily, Batman planting his feet and aiming heavy blows at Nightwing's soft spots. One hit would be enough to knock him out, so Nightwing crouched and flipped, used every twitch of Batman's form to predict his next move.

Batman stepped out and aimed at his gut. Nightwing pushed off the ground with both legs, arching his back to perform a backwards handspring. At the last second Batman switched arms, pushing at Nightwing's ribs midair. He spun out of control, hitting the ground with a loud thud. The fall knocked the wind out of him, and he heaved and coughed, the blood inside his mouth splattering the roof.

Batman was on him before he could move again, grabbing and restraining his arms behind his back. He could feel himself slip into memories again, his heartbeat throbbing in his throat. "I hate you," he slurred. "You ruined me."

Batman let go. Nightwing stayed in position, too stunned to move. He breathed heavily against the concrete roof. Had he finally crossed enough lines?

Batman stared into the distance as he listened to his comm. "Robin, status report."

Nightwing got up slowly, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand.

"Do not engage."

Was Damian in trouble? With a shaking hand, Nightwing pressed at his own comm. Voices flooded his ears.

"We can handle it," Robin said. "Black Bat thinks so, too." So Robin was okay, thank god. If he and Batman were out here rolling in the dirt while Damian got hurt, he'd never forgive himself.

"Trouble," Black Bat added.

"No. We can't trust Red Hood. Not when—"

"Jason's there?" Nightwing asked. Something must be wrong with his voice, because all of them zoned in on him immediately.

"Nightwing?"

"What happened?"

Batman grunted. "I'm taking him back to the Cave."

"Father, if you hurt him—"

"I'm calling tonight. Everyone back to the cave, now."

"But Hood could be in danger!" Spoiler said. "Cass And Dames have eyes on him, do you really think—"

Batman interrupted. "No names in the field." Filthy hypocrite. "Red hood isn't one of us. If he makes trouble, it's his own responsibility. I'm done parenting ungrateful adults for tonight."

"What happened with Nightwing?" Red Robin asked.

The line stayed silent.

"Batman?"

More silence.

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

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Nightwing smiled when he imagined what Batman's face looked like, staring at the empty roof. Getting away from him unnoticed was a feat few could manage, but that was the beauty of Pier nine. For all the years the two of them had fought on top of that warehouse, they'd never been interrupted. And now it had lowered Batman's senses just enough for Nightwing to slip away.

He followed Robin's GPS blip inside his mask, leaping with borrowed strength. He shot his grapple and jumped before his hook latched on, desperate to win time.

"Cue me in," he said through his comm. "I'll be there in five."

Batman growled in his ear. "Nightwing, you're benched."

Nightwing laughed. "Nice try."

"Dick—" Nightwing reached up and muted Batman's voice. "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" he asked. His head still throbbed, but he knew he'd be good as long as his heart kept pumping adrenaline. He'd been hurt often enough to know when his body could still be useful.

"You're hurt, aren't you?" Robin asked.

"Is Jason in danger?"

Red Robin sighed. "I don't think this is a good idea, Nightwing."

Nightwing entered crime alley. The rooftops huddled closer together, allowing him to jump between buildings without his grapple.

"The next person who says something unrelated to Jason gets muted."

"Stop it," Black Bat said.

Nightwing muted her.

Silence.

"Did you seriously just mute Cass?" Spoiler asked, indignation thick in her voice.

"B says to restrain you," Red Robin said. "And I'm thinking he's right."

Only five more rooftops. Here in Crime Alley the air was visible, filled with the heavy smog of people and cars. Nightwing's vision blurred, then cleared when he pressed his fingers against the hurt in the back of his skull.

"Can we deal with Jason first, or would you rather he died a third time?" he said. "You can babysit me later."

If Jason died again, Dick was fairly sure he'd die with him. The first time had already been devastating, between Batman not telling him for months, and their last conversation being a screaming match. He'd been so angry at this scrawny kid who had replaced him. Jason didn't know what Robin really meant, how his mother had whispered it in his ear at night. The past had blinded him, and Jason had to die before Dick realised that by losing Robin, he'd gained a brother.

After he'd first come back from Spyral, Red Hood had been the only one of his siblings who hadn't screamed at him for faking his death. Who, at some basic level, had understood it hadn't been his choice to make. Nightwing would never tell them the truth, about how Batman had beaten him until he'd accepted the mission. But Jason had understood, and if anything happened to him while they were having another falling out…

He wouldn't let it happen.

Two rooftops from Robin's GPS flash of light caught his eye. He looked inside the window and saw Red Hood's gleaming helmet.

"Nightwing, don't!" Red Robin yelled in his ear.

He jumped.