Broken Wings

by Seraphim 0

He had been called many things in his life. Nightwing. Monster. Talon. Son. Hero. Each title had been true, for a certain amount of time. Then he would shed it for the next role that 'destiny' assigned to him. But no matter what others called him, he would always be Dick Grayson. And one thing that Dick Grayson embraced...was that destinies did not exist.

3. Talon

Author's Notes: Is three-shot an actually thing? If not I am creating it now! I am a big Young Justice fan and I am so glad it got a third season! I just finished it and it was really incredible! I also love Dick Grayson is a Talon stories, as you're about to see.

Summary: He had been called many things in his life. Nightwing. Monster. Talon. Son. Hero. Each title had been true, for a certain amount of time. Then he would shed it for the next role that 'destiny' assigned to him. But no matter what others called him, he would always be Dick Grayson. And one thing that Dick Grayson embraced...was that destinies did not exist.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy

---

The video stopped there.

No one dared to make a sound. The inside of the Watchtower was just as silent as the outside, in the maddening silence of space.

Tim had been right. If he had attempted to tell them what happened, they wouldn't have believed him. Even after watching it with their own eyes there were those among them that wanted to believe that the footage had been altered. But they all knew in their hearts that it wasn't fake. This was the truth.

Dick hadn't become withdrawn over what the Court did to him. It was what he had done for the Court.

Suddenly it made perfect sense why Dick refused to talk about what happened. He was terrified of being ostracized for his actions. Quite frankly, they couldn't blame him. It had been horrifying enough for them to watch, even though they knew the cold, calculating expression carried towards the end was a mask. In a way, that knowledge made it worse. Dick knew what he was doing, from start to finish. And while he hadn't been given much of a choice in the deaths of the others, Zucco was another matter.

The way he killed him so savagely and then laughed over it. At that moment some of them wondered if Dick was worth saving. Then they watched as he realized what he had done and their hearts broke as one. What happened between him and Zucco had been in a haze of torture and hatred and desperation. They couldn't blame him for it even if they wanted to. But they were sure that Dick blamed himself. And now that this had come to light, they had to do something.

Barbara sat up and moved in front of the group on shaky legs before turning back to face them. "Just so we're all in agreement, what happened was not Dick's fault."

"Of course." Wally said with a breathless conviction. "We can all agree on that, right?" Wally looked to the other members for assurance.

Artemis laid her hand on her boyfriend's arm and gave it a tight squeeze. That was all the assurance he needed from her. He could hardly blame her for not being able to form coherent words at the moment.

M'gann, wiping stray tears from her eyes, bowed her head in agreement. "He's been through enough. He's going to need our support now more than ever."

From beside her, Conner nodded his head as well. "I can't help but think...if you three had come to Cadmus a few months later, that easily could have been me. Of course I'm in."

That left Kaldur, who looked down as he responded. "Watching that was...hard. But you're right M'gann. We need to be by his side. He's suffered enough. We couldn't help him then, but we can and will now."

"Do..." Wally started. He swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing. "Do we tell the League?"

That was a good question. Though they were certain that the League would be understanding for the most part, some Leaguers that didn't know Dick like Doctor Fate may insist on turning him into the authorities. That thought did not bode well with any of them.

"We have to...eventually." Kaldur answered. "But we should tell Dick we know first. We owe him that."

"We should wait until tomorrow." Tim said with guilt heavy in his voice. "He's already had a pretty...rough day, to say the least." And Tim knew that it was entirely on him. Dick had a major relapse after their fight, and had gone back to hiding in his room. Tim knew that finding out they knew his secret would only make it worse, but it was something that had to be done. It was better to rip off the proverbial bandage. Whether it was better for them or Dick though, he could not say.

Tim did allow himself a moment to think about how this would impact Dick. It might actually make him better. To know that none of his friends held him responsible for the acts he had been forced to commit. He had been living with this guilt for too long. Now he needed someone to yell at him that he wasn't responsible for what happened there.

One by one, the team recollected themselves and began to leave. Conner was still comforting M'gann and Artemis was doing the same for Wally. Kaldur, ever the leader, refused to let it show in front of everyone else just how much watching that video had affected him. But Tim could tell, he was just as dismayed and disgusted by what the Court had done. Barbara was similar to that. Even though she hadn't gone through the same training process that he and the other Robins had, she was still good at hiding her true feelings when the need arose. But just by knowing her, Tim knew that it was taking all she had not to break down and begin screaming and crying right there in the Watchtower. He was tempted to take her home and make sure she was okay, but Tim had to go see Dick for his own peace of mind.

That left Tim to confront how he felt about the whole situation. See, the Bats had an odd relationship with the concept of killing. While the barring of such an act was Batman's golden rule, Bruce had taken Tim into his confidence one night that it was not so black and white. Tim had lost his temper on a thug that they went after as Batman and Robin. They pulled him off a girl that couldn't be more than thirteen. When checking to see if she was alright, Tim realized he recognized the girl. He was friends with her at school. Tim had lost it and gone postal on the man, shattering his leg and nearly paralyzing him from the sheer amount of strikes he had delivered to the spine. As they rode home silently in the Batmobile, Tim spent the entire time wondering what punishment awaited him. To his shock, Bruce had pulled down the cowl when he spoke. He told Tim he had nothing to be ashamed of because everyone, even Bruce, had their breaking points. Sometimes, he had wished to kill criminals that were truly deserving, but refused to let himself cross that line no matter how much he was tempted.

That had completely blown Tim away. Batman lost his temper sometimes? He had a breaking point? Despite being one of the few heroes without powers, it was easy to forget that Batman was flesh and blood. But apparently, being Batman didn't mean he was perfect without sin. Tim let this acceptance settle into his chest. Sometimes it was okay to wish someone else dead.

That said, Tim never personally experienced this. He had never truly wished to kill anyone. Yes, he had beaten that filth to a bloody pulp. But his intention hadn't been murder. Tim never had the urge to kill another human being, despite both Bruce and Dick claiming that they occasionally became tempted to do just that. Tim thought he had that urge once, when he thought Kaldur had killed Artemis. But with time, that urge tucked itself away into the farthest reaches of his mind and vanished when he learned that Artemis was okay. And, of course, he had been tempted without exception to kill William Cobb, or the Judge of Owls if and when they finally found her.

But now that was gone as well. Because seeing Dick like that...

Seeing how his older brother had become so haunted and distant over being forced to do just that...Tim finally realized, that wasn't him. He didn't want that for himself or anyone else he cared about. He only wished he had been there to keep it from happening to Dick.

---

The journey home had been uneventful. Tim stripped off his Robin uniform and went upstairs, not caring at the moment that it was left haphazardly on the floor. He would get an earful from Alfred, but later.

Tim was just...exhausted. Physically and emotionally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to crash into his mattress and fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. But then again, since when did he ever get what he wanted?

Tim absentmindedly took the route that passed by Dick's room. That of course caused him to hear the whimpers coming from inside. Tim opened the door cautiously to peer inside, and what he found broke his heart even more thoroughly.

Curled up tightly in the corner of the room was his brother, laying on his side and legs pulled to his chest with arms locked around them. Dick was shaking violently and tears were dripping from his face and into the carpet below. He didn't seem to be aware of Tim's presence, which meant this was most likely a night terror. Whenever Dick was conscious he was on high alert at all hours.

This sight was not a foreign one. Tim had seen Dick like this more times than he'd care to admit since his return. But this was not a sight that one got used to. He never would get used to it.

Without hesitation, Tim walked over and wrapped his arms around Dick's shaking form. The articles he had looked up regarding night terrors assured him that the person under one was not aware of external forces, but these small kind gestures always seemed to calm Dick down to a lesser degree.

"I didn't want to. I swear I didn't want to." Dick strained through the sobs.

Tim sighed, refusing to let his own tears fall. For weeks Dick had been unwittingly uttering those words in these fugue states, and only know did Tim comprehend their meaning.

"I know you didn't Dick. I know. It wasn't your fault." Tim whispered into his brother's shoulder. Even though he knew Dick couldn't understand him, he still needed to say it. And he would continue to after they told Dick they knew the truth. He would say it as long as it took for Dick to believe it.

---

Dick

The day had started off...odd to say the least.

The first thing he was aware of was waking up on the floor. That itself was not unusual. During one of his episodes, moving about the mansion while he was still under was all too common. What was odd was waking to find his little brother wrapped around him, still asleep. Dick was sure Tim would continue to go out of his way to avoid Dick just as he had been doing since their fight. And after Dick had hurt him, he was certainly in no rush to put himself in that position again.

And so Dick actually attempted to get up and move about without disturbing his brother's sleep, which proved to be fruitless. Tim woke up with his very first movement. He was drowsy at first but after Dick brought him downstairs and made him his mandatory cup of coffee Tim came back to life. After smiling and poking fun at Tim's obvious addiction, Dick got to work making them breakfast. Alfred was still asleep as it was still fairly early, and Bruce was either still on patrol, in bed, or at a meeting. He had been doing that a lot lately.

Dick's relationship with Bruce had become somewhat...strained. Bruce had insisted on never leaving Dick's side in the beginning. At first, Dick was grateful for the constant contact after being left to fend for himself for so long. But over time he could see what it was doing to Bruce. His guardian was barely sleeping in order to juggle Wayne Enterprises, helping the young Talons they found, investigating the Court, helping Dick, and doing normal patrol as the Dark Knight. Eventually something had to give. And Dick was completely in awe of the fact that it had been Batman.

He hadn't found out from Bruce. He had found out from a particularly panicked headline that read 'Where has Batman gone?'. As it turned out, Bruce had not been going out as Batman for over a month. Dick also took note of the fact that it was around one month ago that Bruce had been spending more time with him. That alone had caused Dick to feel warm inside. He often wondered if Batman had mattered more to Bruce than he did. Now he knew that given the choice, Bruce had chosen his son over his persona.

But another part of Dick could not accept it. Gotham needed Batman more than Richard Grayson needed Bruce Wayne. Besides, he didn't deserve Bruce or anyone else. Not after what he did. He lied outright and told Bruce he was feeling smothered and would appreciate some more space. And while Batman was the World's Greatest Detective, Bruce was rather clueless when it came to his children. He bought it and before long, Batman was taking off into the night once again.

Tim was different. They had been rather distant after Dick attacked him during one of his episodes. At Dick's insistence that is. Their fight was the first real conversation they had in some time. Which was why Dick wanted this small interaction to go well. He owed it to Tim after striking him.

But he noticed something strange in the way Tim looked at him. It was something caught between guarded vigilance, as though Dick might turn into a threat at any given second, and unrestrained distress, as though Dick would turn into porcelain and shatter if Tim wasn't there with him. What had brought that on? Perhaps the fact that Dick have been violent with him?

They ended up eating breakfast with some awkward small talk passing between them. Sooner or later Tim worked up the nerve to ask Dick to meet with the team. That had caused Dick to look up from his cereal for the first time since they started. Before he could protest, Tim assured him that it would be Tim Drake and Richard Grayson meeting their friends, not Robin and Nightwing meeting their team.

With a pleading puppy-dog look that Dick could never refuse, he relented and got dressed. That was how they were got where they were now. Standing in front of the team, who were all giving Dick that same look like they didn't know whether to be afraid of him or give him a hug and tell him it would all be okay.

Dick's cork finally popped when he saw those looks. "Okay, what's going on?! Why are you all staring at me like I just killed a puppy?" He had meant it as a sarcastic remark, but would be mortified if he had known just how close to the truth that was.

"Dick." Conner started as he pulled a chair at the League's meeting table for him. "You might want to sit down for this."

"Not until you tell me what is going on." Dick responded, folding his arms across his chest.

"We just really think you're gonna want to sit down." Wally said, practically vibrating in his seat with anxiety.

Dick rolled his eyes. "Look, I get that you're all worried about me and I appreciate that, but I'm a big boy. Whatever you want to talk to me about, I can take it."

The entire team looked away awkwardly, as though they knew for a fact he was wrong and he wouldn't be able to handle the knowledge they were about to drop on him. None of them wanted to be right. But nevertheless they were dead on.

"Dick..." Kaldur began, his voice hesitant. They all knew just how much this knowledge would impact Dick, and once it was out there was no turning back. But it had to be said if they were ever going to work through it. After a deep breath, Kaldur forced himself to finish. "We know. We know about what happened in the Court. We know about Tony Zucco."

Dick didn't seem to react at first. At least, not externally. Inside he had gone completely cold.

.

.

.

.

.

Sooner or later his brain caught up to what Kaldur said, though he wanted with all his being to believe he had misheard the Atlantean. They knew?! How could they know?! There was no way they got Cobb to cooperate! This wasn't happening! They couldn't know! Not now!

That's when his breathing became erratic. Despite the fact that he was breathing rapidly air refused to find its' way to his lungs. His knees began to feel weak and suddenly the whole room was spinning. He barely managed to brace himself as he fell over, landing on his hands rather than falling face first into the ground. Some of his friends were rushing to his side and saying something, but he couldn't even hear them over the sound of his own heart racing.

Nonononononononono. This couldn't be happening. Not now! He had been torturing himself over what to say and what to do in case anyone found out what he did, but not like this! Not this soon! He wasn't prepared for this!

Dick felt bile rise up in his throat, which forced him to stop breathing so rapidly in an attempt to keep it down. But it was in vain. He through his head forward as he retched up what little sustenance Alfred had convinced him to eat. That's when his eyes became wet. His rapid breathing started up again, but this time it was in strangled sobbing.

He always knew this was coming. He knew he would be confronted by his deeds, and he knew that when it came he wouldn't be able to handle it. But to actually have it happen was tearing him apart in a way he could not have foreseen.

Oh God, did Bruce know too? That would completely destroy him. If he reacted this way to his friends finding out, he'd absolutely die if Bruce did.

Finally, someone's voice pierced the fog clouding his mind. "Dick it's okay! Calm down! It's okay!"

Dick followed the order as best he could and took in one large breath, finally managing to get some oxygen into his lungs. He continued to breath deeply, though his crying didn't stop. He felt weak all of a sudden and crashed into the person kneeling down next to him. He sighed in relief to find it was Wally as a freckled hand reached up to brush the dark locks out of his eyes.

"It's okay Dickie." Wally cooed as he continued to soothe his friend. "It's all going to be okay."

'No.' Dick thought to himself miserably. 'It'll never be okay again.'

---

They managed to find their way to another room where they could sit down together. No one commented on the fact that it was to avoid the mess Dick had made in the other room. There was time to clean it later.

The lounge in the Watchtower had some simple couches and a table in the center. It wasn't anything too special. The Watchtower had always been a place of work, not socialization.

Most of the team were on the larger couches, while Dick had curled up tightly a singular cushioned chair in front of them. Tim had taken a spot on a love seat next to Dick, while Barbara went to get something to calm the acrobat down. She returned minutes later with a blanket that she placed gently around his shoulders. Dick didn't respond at all as she did so, or when she took a spot on the love seat next to Tim.

They all just sat there for some time. No one was sure how to start. It was clear from his reaction that Dick was completely ashamed of what he had been forced to do, and them knowing it most definitely did not help. Some had to wonder if they had made things worse by doing this behind his back.

"How..." Dick began softly, breaking the silence. No one expected him to go first. "How did you all find out?" He was still turned away and refused to look at them.

M'gann was the one to respond. Even though she was not actively reading his mind, shame and guilt were radiating off of him. It sent a pang of sadness through her. "They...there was security footage Dick. We saw it all happen."

That caused Dick's head to snap up and look towards them, owlish eyes wide with horror. "Yo-you saw it?!"

That's when realization hit them all like a sack of bricks. They told Dick that they knew about what happened, but until now they had said nothing about actually watching it take place. That was another thing to do entirely.

Dick, meanwhile began to panic again. He never wanted them to see him like that. He never wanted anyone to see him like that. See him lose control and become what he had fought so hard against for so long.

"Please. You have to get rid of it." His eyes became wet again as he pleaded with them, and his voice became choked up. "Please, you can't let anyone...You can't let Bruce...Oh God..." Dick whimpered out as he rested his forehead against his curled up legs.

Tim reached over and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Dick I'm so sorry. I'm the one who dug it up and I had no right to. I should've waited for you to tell us when you were ready."

'If you were ever ready.' Tim added silently.

Dick looked up to him with pleading eyes. "Please. Just don't let Bruce see it. I don't want him to see me like that. I'll never ask you for anything ever again, I swear. Just promise me he'll never see it."

Tim had never seen Dick so desperate before. He would have to tell Bruce about what happened eventually. But Dick was right. There was no need for him to actually see the tape. It would be better to hear it from one of his sons.

"I promise Dick."

---

Bruce

(Meanwhile)

It had been days since Bruce Wayne had last seen his sons. He had to leave for an emergency meeting in Central and hadn't been back all week. He did get some small peace of mind on his trip though. He had gotten to see the facility they set up their for the youthful Talons, and it looked promising. There were those that were secluded and not speaking yet, but many others were playing and laughing like normal children. It had been nice. If only Dick were that easy to cure.

He sighed at the thought of his eldest. When Dick had asked for space he understood and backed off, but never would have if he had guessed the long term results. From that point forward whenever he tried to spend the least bit of time with Dick, he would make some excuse or accuse Bruce of smothering him again. They had barely had a conversation since then. Bruce was tempted to barge into his room and demand an explanation, but Dick had been through enough these last few months.

Then there was Tim. His protege may not have said it aloud, but he knew he resented Bruce. And Bruce couldn't blame him. Since Dick clearly didn't want him around, he had thrown himself into his work, both as a businessman and Batman. And somewhere along the line, Tim had been forgotten. Robin had all but stopped talking to him except during patrol, which was only for confirmation of orders and such.

Just like that, in the span of a few weeks, he had broken down bonds that he had spent years building.

He wanted to repair his relationship with his sons, but had no idea where to begin. Dick still refused to speak to him, and Tim was too invested in trying to help his brother to take time out for his father.

Until he figured out a way to make it work, he would take out his frustrations on the criminals of Gotham. In fact, that's what he was coming in from now. The Batcave was empty, as it usually was nowadays. Bruce went straight for the Batcomputer to change Two-Face's status to 'captured' for how ever long that may apply. Seriously, he had to talk to Gordon about getting some better security for Arkham.

When the screen lit up though, Bruce saw something akin to an alert pop up. Tim must have downloaded something to his gauntlet recently. Little did the Boy Wonder know that Bruce had a software that automatically sent anything he downloaded to the main computer.

It was odd though. He hadn't recently sent Tim on anything that would require him to utilize his hacking abilities. Curious, Bruce closed the alert and pulled up the file that was sent to him.

It was a video file...

---

Dick

No one spoke for a while after Dick begged his little brother not to let Bruce know what happened. He may have agreed out loud, but they knew it was just for show. Batman would have to know eventually.

Dick, meanwhile, was curled tightly into a ball in his chair. His legs were pulled up to his chest and his head was resting on his knees. Even though he was clearly fighting to stay still, the acrobats' thin frame was shaking violently. It seemed as though he was trying to hide, or just disappear altogether. Shame and fear radiated off him in waves. Wally felt a burning hatred rise inside himself when he realized that had been the Court's plan all along.

They had been too smart to think they could break Dick or sway him to their side through torture. People far stronger than they had tried and failed. That's why they had Dick kill Zucco. It was not because the Court wanted Zucco or the others dead, but because they wanted Dick to feel like there was nothing left for him but the Court. They wanted him to feel like he could no longer be the hero. They wanted him be to forever alone.

"Dick?" Wally tried.

There was no response. Nothing to indicate he even heard the redhead.

Wally's face fell as he tried again. "Please Dick? Can you please just look at us?"

That was the one thing that Dick couldn't bring himself to do. He couldn't bring himself to look at that room full of heroes. He may have been one of them once, but he was now the furthest thing from.

There was one simple unspoken rule that existed within the Justice League. That existed within the hearts and minds of all heroes everywhere. No matter how bad things got, you never take a human life.

It was as if there was a chasm between those who followed this rule and those that did not. On one end sat the Justice League and all other heroes of the world. On the other end stood Vandal Savage, Ra's Al Ghul, and their ilk. Both sides may have fought for some manner of order in the world, but their methods are what set them apart.

Dick had spent his entire life on the right end of that chasm. He had never even considered crossing that line an option before. But in that Labyrinth, something had just snapped. And in an instant...in a millisecond, he had been thrown to the other side of that great divide. And no matter how much he wished in wasn't true there was absolutely no way to cross back over.

He couldn't bring himself to look at that room full of heroes, because it was a clear reminder of what he had lost, and what he was now.

He thought that maybe he could just pretend it never happened. That he could go home and be done with it. But the ghosts of the people he had killed haunted his dreams. They demanded to know why they should die while their murderer was alive and well, surrounded by people that loved him.

Dick began to push his friends and family away as a sort of penance, but it did no good. It didn't matter how miserable he made himself. It didn't matter that he wished to God that he could take it all back.

He was alive. That was more than those people would ever be.

Tim and the other may have known this secret, but they would never know the second.

They would never know that one night, after a particularly fearsome night terror, that he had tried to do the one thing that would ever earn him some semblance of redemption. He had gone into the bathroom that night with tears still fresh in his eyes and pulled out a blade from his razor. He didn't make a sound even as he dragged it up the length of each arm and laid down in the bathtub, hoping that soon it would be over and he could be redeemed, and if he was lucky, see his parents.

But then reality came back and hit him like a brick wall. Just as quickly as the cuts were made they sealed back up. Dick tried again and again, but it did no good. He got so desperate that he actually left the blades in his arms and tried to will the wounds to stay open. But the electrum simply pushed the blades out itself and left him to sob on the floor as he realized he would have to live with what he did forever. Dick's eyes began to get wet again as he went over that night in his mind.

But the sheer internal agony he had felt then was nothing compared to what he was going through now. They all knew what he did. They knew what he was. Cobb had been right. There was no going back. Now they would probably through him in prison like the sick, disgusting monster he was.

"Dick." Barbara said as she attempted to scoot closer to him. "Please. You have to know that what happened there was not your fault. You must know that."

That caused Dick took look up at her in sheer shock. Had his ears deceived him? She...she didn't think it was his fault? Was that right? Maybe...

No! Dick violently shook his head back and forth and tightly squeezed his eyes shut. "Those people are dead! That's my fault!" He whispered miserably.

"No it's not." M'gann assured him. "We all saw what happened. If it weren't for you the Court would have done much worse."

Dick shook his head. That was an excuse. It was one that he tried to use in the past but it didn't matter. His intentions didn't undo the act. "Y-you d-d-don't understand. You don't understand."

Dick was openly crying now as he repeated the phrase over and over under his breathe like a mantra.

Wally sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We don't understand. That's why we called in someone who might be able to." He said as he turned in his seat to face the closed door they came in from. "You can come in now."

Dick heard the door hiss open and then the soft footsteps of someone entering the room. He didn't bother looking up. They were wrong. It didn't matter who they had called in. No one could ever understand what he had gone thro...

What he had done. The distinction was important to Dick. The same way he had become furious when Zucco tried to play the victim, he refused to grant himself that courtesy either. He was a murderer. A freak. A monster. Nothing excused what he had done. And nobody could-

"Hey Dick."

Dick's head snapped up at the newcomers voice. He turned to face them, but he already knew who it was. He would know that voice anywhere.

"Roy."

---

Tim

The was a small bout of silence in the room after Roy came in. Eventually the redheaded archer turned to them with his lips cast downwards in a small frown. "Could we have the room?"

Tim was hesitant at first. He wanted to be here for Dick, to reassure him that it would be okay and that what happened was not his fault. Leaving his brother did not sit well with him, but the logical side of his brain told him that this was the right call. Roy had known Dick far longer than he. In fact, Roy, Wally, and Babs (seriously, what was Dick's thing with redheads?) probably knew the acrobat better than Bruce did. And considering Babs and Wally were already getting up to comply with the archer's request, he had no choice but to trust Roy's judgement.

Gradually everyone got up and walked outside the room, leaving the two long time friends be as the door shut behind them. Even though he had already resolved that this was for the best, Tim blurted out his concerns as soon as the door closed and they were out of earshot. "I don't like this. I want to be there for him."

Barbara sent the Boy Wonder a knowing look as she walked over and knelt down to put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry Timmy. If anyone can help get Dick through this, it's Roy."

Tim nodded, but remained unconvinced. Before they could discuss his concerns any further, a sharp tone sounded through his comm that made him flinch. After regaining some composure, Tim pressed a finger to his comm to answer the incoming call. "Batman, what's-"

"Get to the cave now. I'm not asking." His mentor's gruff voice ordered before the line went dead.

Well that was concerning. Bruce may not have been the most social person on Earth, but he was usually not that curt with his proteges unless they did something to violate his sacred 'bat-rules'. The only other time he had been on the receiving end of such a tone was over a year ago, when he had ignored his mentor's medical advice and went into the field with a fever. And to Tim's knowledge, he hadn't done anything of the sort in recent days. It must have been some other manner of emergency.

"I have to go. Batman just called me back to the cave. He sounds pretty urgent." The team, all to familiar with Batman's 'my way or the high way' approach to parenting nodded and wished him luck as he made for the Zeta tubes.

Moments later he was back in Gotham, in the cave. He could see the light from the Batcomputer lit up, meaning that's probably where Bruce was. He made his way over to the computer but became worried when he heard blood-curdling screams coming from it. There was a heavy amount of static attached to the sound meaning it was probably a video. Still, it set him on edge.

"Bruce, what-" Tim stopped mid-sentence as he came into full-view of the computer. His breathe was caught in his throat, and his heart sank.

Right there on the screen, playing right in front of Bruce, was the video of Dick killing Zucco.

Oh God. How had Bruce found out? He had been so careful through all of it. He even took care to erase the footage after the team saw it. This shouldn't be possible.

Bruce, none the wiser to his son's turmoil, paused the video and spun around in his chair to face him. Tim let out a sigh of mild relief when the video stopped playing. He had already endured watching it twice. He wasn't sure his heart could handle a third time. That relief was crushed as his gaze met Bruce's. The lenses of his cowl were narrowed into silts.

"You kept this from me." It clearly wasn't a question. And it wasn't wrong either. He knew what he was doing by keeping this from Bruce, and he knew his surrogate father would react like this once the truth came out. Tim just wasn't expecting it to be so soon.

"I'm sorry Bruce." He muttered under his breathe. Excuses wouldn't cut it in this situation, but he needed Bruce to understand why he had done it. "I just wanted to help Dick."

"You just wanted to help him cover up what he did." He countered. Again, Tim flinched under the accusatory tone his guardian had taken, but he stood his ground all the same.

"No. That's not-" Before he finished, the full implications of Bruce's words hit him like a freight train. 'What he did'? As though what happened was Dick's fault?

Tim looked back up to Bruce and returned his glare in full. NO! Absolutely not! "Don't you dare!" He said slowly. "Don't you fucking dare try to say this was his fault!" This marked the first time Tim had ever cursed at Bruce, but if the older hero was truly planning on holding Dick responsible for what happened, it wouldn't be the last.

Bruce's expression didn't change in the least under Robin's glare. "When you became Robin, you and I made a pact. We would ensure justice in Gotham, but we do not kill." His voice came out like he was reading from a drilling manual. Like it was something ingrained into his very being. And Tim knew that could very well be the case for Bruce. "That pact wasn't unique to the two of us. I had Jason and Dick make the same vow. Dick violated that vow, and he will be held responsible."

Tim's head was spinning as he tried to grasp Bruce's words. He knew for a very long time that the mission would always come first for Bruce. Before friends, before family. But this was different. It was Dick!

"You can't be serious!" Tim screamed at the top of his lungs. For the first time in his life he was hoping that Alfred would overhear their fight. Maybe the older man would be able to knock some sense into Bruce. "Did you even bother to see what the Court put him through?!"

"Even with a temporary insanity plea, there are consequences to taking a civilian life."

Tim growled and ran a hand through his hair. Jesus! It was like trying to win a debate with a freaking stone wall! How the hell did Dick ever...

His thoughts came to a sudden halt as one of the words that Bruce used clicked inside of his brain. Insanity. There was no denying that Dick hadn't been in his right mind when he killed Zucco, but insanity? It didn't seem like much on the surface, but to Tim it made all the difference in the world. Dick wasn't insane. Insane was a term they reserved for the Joker, or Harely Quinn, or any number of people locked up in-

Again Tim's mussing came to a grinding halt as he fully understood what Bruce intended to do.

"No." He said, his voice coming out as little more than a whisper as he was still reeling from realization. "No! Absolutely not Bruce! You are not going to send Dick to Arkham Asylum!"

Surely his guardian knew better than that. Tim often times question why they bothered to send anyone to Arkham. And those were cold blooded killers. This was Dick they were talking about! Madness wasn't cured in the walls of Arkham Asylum. It was born there. Tim cringed away at the thought of Dick by himself in the corner of a cell somewhere, afraid they had abandoned him. If that happened any hope of helping Dick would be lost forever.

"What else would you have me do?!" Bruce howled in response, getting equally frustrated with Tim as Tim was with him. "Dick killed a man in cold blood with no remorse! More than that, he tried to cover it up! He needs to be held accountable!"

Tim stayed in stunned silence. And it was not only because of the fact that the ever-calm Batman had just yelled at him. It was more over the inaccuracy of his statement. No remorse? Dick suffered a freaking mental breakdown after he realized what happened! How could Bruce possibly be so blind?!

Tim looked up at the film so that he could point to it as a way of proving his point when he remembered that it was still paused. More than that, it was paused on the moments after Dick had killed Zucco, when he was laughing on the ground.

And just like that everything made sense. Bruce hadn't seen the rest of the footage. He didn't realize that while that night may have killed Zucco, it destroyed Dick. It also meant that Bruce probably hadn't seen the other people that Dick had killed out of mercy so that the Court wouldn't torture them. No wonder Bruce had no qualms about sending Dick off to the nuthouse! That moment in the tape made everyone pause for at least a moment.

"Oh my God." Tim said, mind still reeling. "Bruce, you don't understand. If you would just watch the rest of it-"

"I've seen enough Tim." The finality of Bruce's voice was like iron. "We're done talking about this. We'll discuss your punishment for keeping this from me later."

"Bruce please!" Tim pleaded. "You have to see the rest. Dick regrets what he did!"

"And I suppose he told you how much he regretted it only after you confronted him with this, correct?"

"You're making sound like he's some psycho who did this for kicks!" Tim yelled. His throat was beginning to hurt from the sheer amount of screaming he'd been doing but he pushed past it. "He's not some lunatic that needs to be locked up before he kills again! He's your son!"

Meanwhile, Bruce was having his own inner turmoil over this choice. Consciously, he knew Tim was right to some extent. Dick was no heartless killer, and something like this never would have happened if it weren't for the Court taking him. But it was more accurate to say the Dick he knew was no heartless killer. And the Dick he knew was a far cry from the Dick that currently was. It had been obvious from the start that something had changed in Dick during his time with the Court, and now he knew what that something was.

This was easily the hardest decision he'd ever made before, but nothing would ever change what happened. What Dick did. Bruce had seen the footage. Dick had outright refused to kill the captive, up until he realized the captive was Zucco. He clearly knew the difference between right and wrong in that moment. And the sheer brutality with which he killed the man...

Bruce had seen some awful things in his days as Batman, but even the Joker's killings did not stand up to what Dick had done. And then to laugh over it...

Bruce wished to God that it didn't have to be this way. But Dick was a changed man now. And he required more help than he or the League could give him.

Maybe Arkham would do the trick...

---

Roy

After everyone left the room, Roy pulled up a chair and sat down in it so that he was right in front of Dick. The former Boy Wonder still had his head buried in his knees, which came as no surprise. After the team called him in and explained the situation, he knew this was going to be an uphill battle. But he was no stranger to walking alone in the darkness, and feeling like there was no escape. Which incidentally is what made him the perfect man for this. Wally and Dick had tried so hard over the years to get him back into the fold and get cleaned up, but the thoughts of the original Roy Harper consumed him.

He wouldn't let Dick suffer like he had.

Dick on the other hand, was in his own world at the moment. He was completely unsure of what to make of the situation. Speaking to Roy weeks prior when Tim invited him over had been easy. He neither had to lie to Roy during the invasion, nor did he have to attack him to protect his cover as a Talon. He had felt so comfortable by using Roy as a distraction from what happened. But now things had changed. There was no more running away from his deeds. They were no longer behind him, but directly in his path. And everyone knew. In lieu of convincing Wally to turn back time for him, or maybe inventing something to wipe their memories of that tape, there was nothing he could do to escape this confrontation.

They still sat there in silence for several minutes without a single word passing between them. Roy wanted Dick to make the first move. That would give him a read on how bad the situation really was. His patience did not go unrewarded. Sooner or later, Dick raised his head, eyes puffy from how much he had been crying, and looked at Roy. "Did...did you watch the tape?" He asked timidly.

Roy looked at him for a moment, deciding how he should answer. Eventually he chose to go for honesty and nodded slowly, which caused Dick to retreat behind his legs again.

Roy let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps he should have taken the teams' advice and abstained from watching it, but he thought at the time that seeing what happened firsthand would give him a better read on it. There was also the unspoken fact that a small part of him didn't believe that Dick had killed someone. Looking back, he wished he could just scream at himself 'Don't watch it you idiot!'. It would be a stain on his mind's eye for sometime.

"How can I ever face Bruce again?" Dick's voice broke through the ominous silence of the room, his tone distorted from choked sobs and unshed tears. "He's going to find out. He always finds out. He's Batman."

Roy could have guessed that Bruce was the source of Dick's fear. It was understandable. For many of the former sidekicks, their mentors were like their parents. In Dick's case, it was far more than that. Bruce gave him a home when he had nothing. When he felt like he was alone, Bruce gave him a family. When he had no hope, Bruce gave him Robin. And Dick was terrified of rejection by the man who had done all that for him.

"What are you afraid Bruce will do when he finds out?" Roy asked in as calm a voice as he could muster.

Dick still didn't look up as he answered in a shaky voice. "I'm afraid he's going to freeze me. Just like Cobb." He said as more tears leaked from his eyes. "That was the most terrifying thing about being with the Court. They would leave me in there for days. Weeks sometimes. And sometimes to punish me they would give me a drug that kept me awake. I could see and hear everything around me and I could feel every second pass, but I couldn't move a muscle. It's like being buried alive."

Dick had no idea why he was sharing all this. In his entire time since he got back from the Court he never once opened up like this to anyone. Maybe now that the largest secret was out the floodgates were opening.

Roy shook his head and placed a hand on Dick's shoulder. "You know he would never do that." At least that's what Roy hoped. He had to admit that Batman could be unpredictable in terms of how far he would go to uphold his morals.

"Maybe he should." Dick said as he looked up at Roy again. "I'm a murderer. And I wanted so desperately to believe I could be a hero and maybe then I'd redeem myself for what I did. But Tim was right. I wasn't helping people, or giving them hope. I was terrifying them. Hurting them. No matter what I do from now on, I'll never be a hero again. And even if I could, nothing will ever undo what I did."

Roy nodded along as Dick went on, not wanting to interrupt. It was only after he was satisfied that Dick was done that he spoke. "You blame yourself for a lot, don't you?"

"I blame myself for what I did. You saw the footage."

Roy nodded. "Yeah. I saw you do something you never should have had to do. I saw you kill people rather than see them suffer. That is a horrible burden Dick, but that doesn't mean it was the wrong thing. What do you think would have happened to them if you didn't kill them?"

Dick looked away. "The Court would have tortured them. I know. I told myself that a lot in the beginning. But I then went to see some of those families after I got out. I saw a little girl that I orphaned cry at her mother's grave. I saw a woman I widowed have a complete emotional breakdown as they lowered her husband into the ground. I saw the families I tore apart Roy." Dick finally turned back to met the redhead's gaze. "Don't ever tell me I did the right thing Roy. Not after that."

Roy nodded. He still knew that what Dick did was in no way wrong, but the problem was convincing Dick of that. But before he spoke, it occurred to Roy just how young Dick really was. Sure he was 19, and the original Boy Wonder was always old for his age, but in only 19 years Dick had already seen more than most people should have to in an entire lifetime. He had seen his parents murdered, been kidnapped countless times as Bruce Wayne's ward, seen civilians die by the hundreds, that God awful night with Tarantula... (1)

Roy shook his head at the thought to clear himself. After everything that had happened to him, Dick still took everything with a grain of salt and moved on. But accepting the things that happened to him was a far cry from accepting the things he himself had been forced to do. Perhaps he could put those horrible deeds in a new light though.

"Let me ask you this. If you hadn't killed them, and the Court tortured them in all the ways they did to you and then they all died anyway, would you be able to forgive yourself for letting that happen when you could have done something about it?"

Dick didn't answer. Not at first anyway. He kept a very thoughtful look on his face for several minutes before responding with a shake of his head.

Roy let out a sigh of relief before continuing. "I know what you had to do was awful, and I wish there was some way you could have worked around it. But you did do the right thing Dick."

"Okay." Dick said softly. Roy knew that he didn't entirely believe it, but he was hopeful that they could build off of this.

"Okay." The acrobat repeated keeping his gaze locked on his knees. Another long silence passed between the two before Dick spoke again. "What about Zucco?"

Roy raised a ginger brow. "What about him?"

"I didn't kill him to spare him from suffering. In fact...I'm pretty sure I made him hurt worse than the Court would have. And I...I..." Dick was starting to get choked up again as he tried to explain.

"You what Dick?"

"I enjoyed it!" He suddenly burst out. In the back of his mind it occurred to Roy that the team probably heard that outburst through the door, but he was too stunned by Dick's words to press on it. "I hated him so much! I didn't just want to kill him! I wanted to make him suffer! And I was thrilled to do it! I loved every second! And that wasn't the Court, that was me! Don't you get it! It doesn't matter that I'm a Talon, or that they tortured me! I did that all on my own! I'm a monster!"

Dick had tears spilling from his eyes the entire time he was talking, and once he was done he completely broke down, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees and burying his face behind his legs. Once again shame overwhelmed him and he could no longer bring himself to look at Roy. Roy was like the rest of them. Roy never would have done what he did. Roy was a hero.

As soon as Dick's breakdown started, Red Arrow wrapped his arms around the younger boy as he cried his heart out. He didn't say anything, only allow the boy to let it out. Once his crying stopped (or at least, decreased significantly) Roy spoke again.

"You kept saying 'wanted'." The archer noted, keeping Dick in his arms. "You 'wanted' to kill him. You 'were' glad to. Past tense. Does that mean you're not glad anymore?"

"What difference does that make?" Dick asked, actually a bit curious on where Roy was taking this.

"It makes all the difference in the world." Roy said as he sat back down in his own chair. "You were relentlessly tormented physically and mentally for months without reprieve Dick. You were nearly drowned minutes before what happened with Zucco. And after all that, they threw the man you hated most in the world in front of you. You don't think that diminished you capacity to control yourself? And only now, after you've had the appropriate time to recover from all of that do you regret it."

"I never said I regret it." Dick countered without missing a beat.

Roy looked at him thoughtfully. "When you think back on happened, how do you feel?"

Dick paused. How did he feel? He knew of course, but he had never quite found the proper word for it. Guilty, ashamed, disgusted, repulsed, violated.

"Terrible." He decided on being vague.

"Would you do it again?"

Dick shook his head violently. Never! In all his years of tragedy and suffering, that moment was easily the worst of his life. That included the loss of his family and Jason both. He never wanted to go through it again.

"And if you could, would you go back and change it?"

He nodded feverishly. God he wanted to undo it. He wanted to wipe that stain off his soul. But there was no way to undo it. No was to erase his mistake. He had to live with it for the rest of his life. And the fact that he could no longer die spoke volumes about how long he would hold onto that guilt. The thought brought more tears to his eyes as Roy asked his last question.

"Dick...do you regret killing Zucco?"

"Yes." Dick wept out as he did his best to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Roy allowed himself a small smile. "I know monsters Dick. I've met them. You have too. And they don't regret it when they kill someone. Not for a moment. You're not a monster."

"But I...Batman would have..." Dick tried, but he was so choked up that his responses kept getting stuck in his throat.

Roy looked at Dick with sad eyes now. "Please don't do this to yourself." He pleaded. "What would you do if it were someone else the Court took? Someone else who did those things? You would be the first to defend them. You're always are so willing to sacrifice everything to save others, but you won't lift a finger to save yourself."

Dick shook his head and cleared his throat as best he could. "You think I don't know that? I'm not stupid Roy. Yeah, if this happened to someone else, I would try my best to tell them it wasn't their fault. I'd have no doubt about it. But it's different when it happens to you. It's so easy to look at it from the outside and say it was right or wrong. You can't imagine what it's like to know that people are dead because of you, and you alone."

Roy let out a long sigh. Some part of him had been praying that it wouldn't come to this. But now he had no choice. And if this was the only way to help Dick, it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

Slowly, he got up from his seated position and walked around to the other side of the chair he had been sitting on and gripped the back. "There's a reason I asked the team to leave you know." He said as he looked back up at Dick. "This can't leave the room. Only two other people know about it."

Dick gave him a curious look and tilted his head. "Know about what?"

Roy let out another long breathe, just to procrastinate having to say it out loud. But eventually, he mustered up the strength to look at Dick and say what needed to be said.

"I've killed."

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Dick sat their as still as a statue, not fully able to comprehend the words he just heard. His brain was working in slow motion. It took him nearly ten minutes of sitting their to even understand what had just been uttered.

Roy killed someone? He hardly meant it as a judgement. He was in no place to judge anyone. But it came as a shock no less. Roy? A killer? Sure, he had a horrible temper, and was easily defined as the League's problem child, but murder? That made no sense whatsoever. There had to be an explanation.

Seeing that Dick wanted him to go on, Roy reluctantly did so. "It was two years ago, about a month after I left you guys. I was working a case with some dealers over in Star City. I found some micro-connection between one of them and a Cadmus employee and was hoping to get a lead on the original Roy. There weren't very many of them. The whole thing was over before it started. I knocked out all but one of them. The one I wanted to talk to I left awake. I started in on Cadmus but he had no idea what I was talking about. He was just some punk kid, and like I said the, connection I had was hardly anything. The employee who worked there was his second cousin or something.

"I didn't believe him though. I was still guilt ridden and I was desperate to find Speedy. But that doesn't justify what I did next. I started beating him. Broke his fingers one-by-one, shattered his nose, split his lip. There was more than that, I'm sure, but those are the things I remember best. Sooner or later he went slack. At first I thought he was unconscious and I tried to wake him up, but then I noticed just how still he was. I checked for a pulse and got nothing. He was gone. I was so mad I guess I didn't even realize just how much blood there was until it was too late. It completely soaked through my uniform, and it was flowing like a river down the alley. Turns out he had some rare form of hemophilia. Couldn't clot to save his life.

"I was so freaked out that I went to a hideout nearby and just sat there for hours on end trying to figure out what the hell happened. Sooner or later I guess I realized what I did and I kinda fell apart. And then I got stupid. I always keep a stash of all the major drugs at my hideouts. They make for pretty good bribes to certain people. But that was the first night I took any myself..."

That made Dick's heart sink. He and the others had known about Roy's heroin use for sometime. But Dick never could have imagined something like this as the initial cause.

"I spent days on end in there, trying to use the drugs to keep myself numb. Take away the pain. Take away what I did and what I was now. At the time that was all I had planned for the foreseeable future. But then I turned on the TV and saw the news coverage about the kid I killed. Turns out he was dealing on the side to help his little sister. She had some pretty bad health problems. He poured so much money into treating her that he didn't even have enough left for his own meds for his hemophilia. I saw his sister on there too. She was crying, talking about how he was all she had left after their parents died, and she had no idea what she was going to do now.

"That's when I decided I was going to turn myself in. But there was something I had to do first. I had to go home. Not some other hideout. My real home. I had to see Jade one last time. I had to say goodbye.

"When I got there, Ollie was there too. She got worried when I didn't show up and called him. By the time I got there, I looked like complete shit. I don't remember what happened at first. I was still pretty high. When I came too though, Jade and Ollie were there and they demanded to know what I had been thinking. I just broke down and told them everything, and told them I was going to turn myself in. They talked me out of it though. I won't bore you with the details of how they helped me through it or convinced me not to go through with it. But Jade stayed in the house with me for two weeks. That is to date the longest she ever went without taking a job. And I'm the one that screwed it up. Not long after another lead popped up and I was out the door.

"You know most of what happened in the interim. I got clean, and I'm doing better. I send that kid's sister money every month through a shell account. But to this day I'm haunted by that kid. I see him everywhere I go. I can't imagine what the Court of Owls put you through Dick, but I do know what it's like to take someone's life. We may be heroes but that doesn't mean we're angels."

Dick stared at Roy disbelievingly for a long while. He couldn't fully comprehend what he had just been told. One of his best friends had killed someone as well. Perhaps this was not unlike what the team felt when they saw his tape. He felt the temptation to tell Roy that what happened was not his fault, but he knew that statement would reek of hypocrisy.

"Roy...I..." He started and stopped. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything then. Just listen." Roy said, still not done. "I spent a very long time wondering how I could ever forgive myself for what I did. How I could make it right. But then I realized I already had. I did the math a long time ago. Those two weeks Jade and I spent together...that's when she got pregnant with Lian."

Dick still had a hard time believing that Roy had a kid. With Artemis' sister no less. The daughter of Red Arrow and Cheshire. Granddaughter to Sportsmaster and Huntress. If that kid grew up to follow in her parent's footsteps then it would be game over for the Light. Dick felt his lip twitch upwards the smallest bit at the thought, but still didn't understand where Roy was going with all this. "What does-"

Reading his friend's expression and taking an educated guess on what he was wondering, Roy cut him off. "Having Lian is the only thing I've done in my life that I can say without hesitation is good. And if I had turned myself in, she wouldn't have been born. Do you get it now? If you let what happened control your life, then you're shutting the door on all the good you have left to do."

Dick scoffed at that and turned away again. If nothing else he had to admit that knowing Roy had gone through something similar made him feel less on edge about talking to him. "What 'good'? I'm not Nightwing anymore. I'm not sure I ever can be. And Tim is going to fight tooth and nail to make sure that I never put on the Talon uniform again. So if I'm not Nightwing and I'm not Talon, then who the hell am I?"

Roy smiled softly at his friend. "That should be obvious. You're Dick Grayson."

Dick let himself fall silent as he let the clone's words sink in. That's true. He was still Dick Grayson. The only question was, who the hell was that? He had always regarded his civilian persona the same way that Bruce regarded his playboy persona, to a lesser degree. While Bruce's public identity was a mask in it's own right, Richard had more or less been an amalgamation of his other personas. Robin's playful nature, Nightwing's devotion to those he cared about, and the free spirit of the last of Flying Graysons.

But when you stripped away Nightwing and Robin, who was left? He no longer had the heart to fly as he had. Didn't have the drive for justice that had burned so fiercely in him as a hero. So what was left to him?

Dick let out a breathe he hadn't realized he had been keeping in. If he had no idea who he was, then there was only one option left.

He would have to find out...

Maybe he could be good again. Maybe there was a way. It happened for Roy. So maybe there was hope for him yet.

"You two okay?" A new voice said from the doorway. Dick turned in his chair to see Wally leaning again the door frame. He had been so caught up in his own head that he hadn't noticed the redhead's entry. "We heard some screaming before. Wanted to see if you two were good."

Roy answered for them. "We're fine."

Even though he said 'we', Wally still seemed to regard the answer as though Dick hadn't counted. He turned to the ebony-haired Talon with eyes narrowed in concern. "What about you Dick? You okay?"

Dick looked between his two long time friends. He also saw that the rest of the team was shuffling awkwardly outside the room, not even trying to hide their attempts to peak in on the conversation. All of them had that same look on their face. The one that told Dick they were concerned for him. That each and everyone of them would do their best to make sure he would get better.

And it was in that moment he decided he would do his best not to let them down.

"Not yet." He answered honestly, a soft smile gracing his features for the first time in months. "But I will be."

---

Dick

(A few hours later)

Dick spent a few more hours with the team after that. It was mostly comprised of their assurances that what took place wasn't his fault. Dick wasn't yet in a position to fully believe that, but he was hopeful that with time that would change. He had been disappointed to hear that Tim had been called back by Bruce though. If Bruce was in the manor then they would probably not get a chance to talk about what transpired. At least not tonight.

After mostly everyone was gone, it was Babs that confronted him on the fact that their half-assed intervention was the most they had seen of him since he got back, and that would be stopping then and there. She made it very clear that he would be spending time with his friends again if she had to tie him up and drag him out of the manor. He had to laugh at her hostile 'take no prisoners' approach to being a friend, but agreed with her regardless. If he had any intention of keeping true to his word and trying to get better, he had to stop hiding from the world. He had also reluctantly agreed to talk to Black Canary about what happened. He agreed only because she was a shrink and wouldn't be able to tell anyone if he said it to her in confidence.

After all the assurances and thinly veiled threats from Wally, Roy, and Babs were aired, he took his leave to head back to the manor. He wasn't surprised to find the cave empty. It was late, even for Batman. What had surprised him was coming into the living room to find Tim and Bruce there waiting for him.

He knew right away something was wrong. Bruce was didn't look up at him even though he clearly knew that Dick had entered the room. He was sitting on a chair in front of the fireplace and was keeping a firm glare on his own folded hands. Tim was visibly shaking and kept his eyes flicking back and forth between the other two males in the room, and he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. That's when Dick remembered that Tim got a message demanding that he come back to the cave immediately earlier that day. What could have happened in that time?

"Bruce?" He asked cautiously, keeping in mind that the last time he saw Bruce like this it was when his guardian informed him that Jason was dead. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Sit down Dick."

That was enough to cause Dick to start panicking. While the tone with which he spoke was all too common in Batman's voice, one almost never heard it from Bruce Wayne. Nervously, Dick did as he was told and sat down on the couch across from his father and brother. Dick felt like he was waiting for a firing squad to take aim as they sat in silence. He was both anxious to get it over with and terrified of the outcome, which is why he nearly jumped out of his seat when Bruce raised his head to stare at him, dark eyes narrowed in a scowl. Dick's already slow pulse came to a complete stop. He had seen that look on Bruce's face many times, but it had never been directed towards an ally before. That look was reserved for criminals. And once Bruce spoke, it was clear why that way.

Seven words. Seven simple words were all it took for the walls Dick had worked so hard to keep up to come crashing down around him.

"I know what you did to Zucco."

Dick felt like he was sinking into his chair. Like the entire world had dropped out beneath him.

No. Not Bruce. Of all the people to know what happened Bruce just couldn't. Dick suddenly felt like he might be sick again, but pushed it down. He was too terrified to do much else. He felt completely frozen in place between his own panic and the look that Bruce was giving him. One look and it was obvious. Not only did Bruce know, he also clearly did not share the team's understanding. Dick couldn't blame him. It was the exact reason that he never wanted Bruce to find out. From the moment he realized what he had done to Zucco, he had not been horrified as much by what he did as how Bruce would react to it. Bruce, who taught him from the age of nine to never take a human life. Bruce, who lived by a strict moral code that never allowed for exceptions. Bruce, who was now looking at Dick as though he were a threat.

Dick felt like his whole world was coming down around him. How was this possible? They had already made an agreement not to tell Bruce until Dick was ready, which quite frankly was never. "How-how did you find out?" He asked with a shaky voice.

Bruce's glare darkened, if that was possible. "That's all you have to say for yourself?" He demanded.

Dick felt himself cringe away from Bruce's tone. During his entire time with the Court, he had never been as terrified as he was in this moment. And why shouldn't he be? After all, Batman was the living nightmare of every thief, drug lord, and murderer in Gotham. And that's what he was now. Just another murderer.

"Bruce I told you, if you would just watch the rest of the footage-" Tim said shyly before Bruce cut him off.

"Stay out of this Tim. This is about him." Bruce spat the last word as he pointed to Dick, not even able to use his name. Dick knew in that moment that he had become a stranger in the manor. He wasn't Bruce's son. Not his partner. Not even his ward. He was just...nothing.

But two things struck Dick about that statement. Tim had said the rest of the tape. That meant...Oh please no! It meant that Bruce had seen the footage! Not only did he know what happened, he had now witnessed it with his own eyes. Dick wished he could just disappear then. Just vanish into thin air and never reappear.

Though Dick briefly took note of the fact that the way Tim phrased it made it sound like Bruce had only watched a portion of the tape, that was not the main focus of his mind. The observational skills he had been taught in childhood were on overdrive on the same question he had first asked Bruce. How did he find out? The only people that knew were him and the team and-

Dick stopped mid-thought and turned to look at Tim, who still stared at his feet in what looked like shame. Tim. It had been Tim!

Suddenly the awe and desperation and tension he had been feeling gave way to something else far worse. A white, hot, rage. Tim told Bruce! He had betrayed him! He had broken his promise! Dick gripped the edge of the chair he was in so hard that it snapped, causing both vigilantes to turn their attention back towards him.

As soon as Tim's eyes met Dick's yellow ones, he jumped back in his seat. It wasn't due to the color. He had grown somewhat accustomed to them at that point. It was unrestrained fury that he had only seen once before on Dick's face. And it had been there on the tape right before...

Tim didn't bother to dwell on it further as his brother got up and lunged at him with his newfound speed. "YOU LYING LITTLE BASTARD!" Tim leapt up from his seat and made for the nearest exit, fear being the only thing that guided his actions at that point. He heard Dick snarl as he made to follow him, but it was the dull thud of a body slamming to the ground that caused him to turn around.

On top of Dick's struggling form was Bruce, who had already prepared a syringe of liquid nitrogen that he was currently injecting into the base of Dick's neck. Dick continued to growl like a tortured animal until Bruce injected him. That's when the anger subsided and fear set in once more. He wanted to scream but the injection was already rendering him immobile. He couldn't even breath. His lungs were beginning to seal up. But as the cold worked its' way through his system, Dick's mind began to clear. And he suddenly became aware of what he had done. With the limited control he had over his eyes, Dick shifted them enough to see Tim out of the corner of his eye. And what he saw caused him to break just a little more inside. He knew that look. He saw it in the mirror daily. He had seen it in Zucco's face before being killed. It was fear. Tim was afraid of him.

And just like that, all the reassurances that his friends had given him slipped from reality. This was reality now. He had nearly killed his own brother in a bout of rage, and he was going to be locked up where he couldn't hurt anyone anymore. That was what he deserved...

Because that's what people did to monsters.

That was the last thought Dick had before the cold overtook him and he passed out.

---

Bruce

It took Bruce less than an hour to realize that he was the worst father in the world.

After what happened, he put Dick in one of the holding cells in the cave, much to Tim's protest. His protege had yelled and screamed and even attempted to pry Dick's unconscious form away from him, but Bruce's larger frame didn't budge. After laying Dick down in the cell and locking the door behind him, Tim told him he was a monster in his own right and that he hated him before storming away.

Bruce pretended that those words didn't affect him long after his protege was gone. He spent perhaps half an hour staring at his eldest's unconscious frame before being satisfied that he wouldn't wake up any time soon. But when he made to leave the cave, he noticed something on the main computer. It was Dick's video. It was playing from the moment he had paused it. Tim's doing no doubt.

It was then that Bruce sat down and saw the video through to its' end. He just wanted to watch the rest and be done with it. But as he watched Cobb taunt his son over his actions, saw Dick's reaction to them as he realized what he did, and saw the later's breakdown at the very end...

Needless to say, Bruce was utterly ashamed of himself. The way he had treated Dick like a common criminal the moment he walked into the manor, not giving him the chance to explain himself...

What was wrong with him?

Bruce thought it best to try and repair things with the one son who was capable of speaking to him first. Tim's door was locked, and though he had a key, he thought it best not to overstep his bounds. Tim had every right to hate him. It was best not to push it. He spoke to Tim through the door and said that he had seen the rest of the footage and that he was sorry.

Tim stormed right out with a look a pure hatred he hadn't seen on the boy's face since the day they caught his parent's killer. Tim tore into him without mercy. And he deserved it. Deserved every harsh word, every degradation, and every insult thrown his way. Each and every word was true.

Tim had made it clear that it was Dick he needed to apologize to, and he was kidding himself if he thought that alone would do the trick. The way he had reacted to Dick was already done, and would not be undone by a few kind words. He had confirmed every fear Dick held on how he would react. He had done more damage in one conversation then the Court had done in half a year. And Dick was the one paying for it. He should be ashamed of himself, and he didn't deserve Dick.

Tim was absolutely right. He was ashamed, and he didn't deserve Dick. He tried to tell Tim that he would do everything in his power to make this better, but Tim cut him off by asking if he still intended to send Dick away.

That was the rough. Though it was clear to Bruce that Dick did regret his actions, and was not the mindless killer he feared, he was still a killer. More to the point his outburst with Tim proved he was unstable. Truth be told he had considered professional help for months, and this was just the nail in the coffin. The only difference was that he no longer meant it as a way to punish Dick. He would have to do it to protect Dick from harming himself or others.

He tried to explain to Tim that it was for the best, but Tim cut him off again and told him in no uncertain terms that if he did that he would lose two sons, before slamming the door in his face. Bruce sighed and pressed a finger to his temple where a headache was starting to form. He was sure to get an earful from the Team and the League over this too. What a nightmare. But this was for the best. It had to be.

Bruce finally proceeded to go downstairs to the cave to get Dick out of the cell. This night had been traumatizing enough. He shouldn't have to wake up there of all places. But that ship had sailed. When Bruce got down there, he arrived to find the cell empty. And Dick was nowhere in sight.

Bruce began to panic right away. How had he not seen that coming?! Of course Dick would no a way out of the cells. He helped design them! Bruce brain completely ceased to function as he began to wrack his head for where his ward might have gone. But his inaction was rewarded, for whatever reason, by the sound of someone's footsteps upstairs. He ran up at speeds that would put Flash to shame and found Dick. And the state in which he found him would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Beneath golden eyes were a pair of tear stains falling down to his jaw. He was standing by the fireplace and in a posture that said he was on his way to leave just before Bruce caught him. But besides that was what he was wearing. It made Bruce want to believe he was seeing things. Surely insanity was a better alternative to Dick actually wearing the Talon uniform. Gold claws lay discarded on the sofa by the fireplace, as did the hood. That meant he had probably walked in on Dick as he was putting the uniform on. But that mattered little at the moment.

He and Dick just stood there staring at each other, like neither was sure what to make of the other's presence.

It was so odd. These two had known each other for well over a decade. Fought together, trained together, loved one another. But in that moment, it was like they were perfect strangers. Bruce never could have imagined Dick dawning that uniform by choice. Between that and his ward's odd appearance, it was as though he were a whole other person. But Bruce knew better than to voice that. And he knew better than to react. So he kept his voice as leveled and modulated as humanly possible as he asked Dick a question that he much rather would have screamed.

"Dick." He began, trying his very best not to scare the boy anymore than he already had that night. "What are you doing?"

Dick turned away in shame, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry Bruce." He said. "I...I never wanted you to see me like this...or like I was on that tape."

Bruce tried to take a step towards his son, but stopped when he saw the entirety of Dick's form shift to a defensive stance, as though Bruce might attack him. Bruce felt something inside him break when he realized that's exactly what Dick thought. The way he had reacted...even though Bruce had already acknowledged his faults in it, this brought them to a clearer picture. He had outright accused his son of murder, incapacitated him, and locked him away without any attempt to hear him out. Of course he seemed like a threat.

And that made what he did next even worse. He knew that, but Bruce had to say it regardless. "Take off that uniform now Dick." He hadn't meant for his tone to come out so hostile, but he couldn't bare the sight of his son in that attire. He just couldn't.

Dick narrowed his eyes at his guardian and slowly shifted out of his defensive posture, but made no move to follow Bruce's demands. "I...I can't."

Bruce's eyes narrowed into a watered down batglare at the response. "Can't or won't?"

"Both."

Bruce clenched his fist at his son's continued defiance, but he knew better than to act on his emotions at a time like this. So instead he looked at his son pleadingly, eyes begging him for an explanation. "Why are you doing this?"

Dick finally managed to bring his gaze up to meet Bruce's. And it was there that Bruce saw something that never should have crossed Dick's features. It wasn't malice, or betrayal, or even the ever-present misery that appeared to have become a constant for Dick. It was just...nothing. Dick's normally expressive eyes did not give off a hint of emotion. They just glossed over him, cold and calculating.

"I'm sorry Bruce." He repeated, though his words rang with a distinct hint of fear. "I tried to deny it. I wanted so badly to believe it wasn't true. But there are some things in this world that you can't escape, no matter how much you don't want to believe them."

"What..." Even the Dark Knight himself had trouble speaking through the tension in the room. "What are you talking about?"

Dick looked down, no longer able to look Bruce in the eyes as he let the truth he had been keeping to himself spill out. "I told you and the team that Nightwing had been killed by the Court. That I was just his corpse. But that wasn't the whole truth. I didn't want it to be true, but after tonight there can be no more denying it."

.

.

.

"It wasn't just Nightwing that was butchered in that Labyrinth. They killed Richard Grayson as well."

Bruce shook his head, trying again to approach his ward but stopped as he found Dick backing up with ever step he took forward. "Don't say that to me. Please don't say that." He begged.

"I NEARLY KILLED TIM!" Dick bellowed causing Bruce to flinch back at the sudden outburst. "A part of me still wishes I had! It's screaming at me for letting my 'target' get away! Does that sound like the Richard Grayson you knew?!"

Bruce made no attempt to answer as he watched Dick attempt to catch his breathe after how harshly he screamed. That's when he realized he had been all wrong. Dick hadn't gone cold and numb. Though in hindsight, that may have been better than this.

He was afraid. Not of the Court, or even Bruce. He was afraid of himself. Of what he had become. And of what he was capable of now.

Bruce's heart fell to his feet as he came to understand just how tormented Dick was by the shame of being a Talon. But Talon or not, Dick was still his son. "Please Dick, just give yourself a chance. Take off that uniform and we can sit down and work through this."

"By sending me to Arkham?"

Bruce stood there speechless for a full minute. Oh God. The advanced hearing that Talons possessed! He could have been in the cave and heard every word of his conversation with Tim as clear as a bell!

And the accusatory tone with which his son asked spoke volumes to him, and Bruce knew that once again he had failed spectacularly as a parent by even suggesting it. "No. No I wouldn't...I was wrong to-"

"Please stop." Dick said as he raised a hand. He just sounded so...defeated. Like he had been fighting for months on end and only know realized that the battle was a lost cause. "You weren't wrong Bruce. Not entirely anyway. I'm not going to Arkham. I won't get better there, no one ever does..."

Then their eyes met again. That seemed to be a common occurrence nowadays. Dick making and then breaking eye contact. But it was in those moments that Bruce could see the sheer vulnerability behind their gold luster. But that was gone now. Gone was the vulnerability of a poor, broken child. And in it's place was a hollow, tired gaze.

"...but I can't be here anymore. I don't belong here."

Bruce gave his son a disbelieving stare. Did he even know how absurd he sounded? "How can you say that? This is your home!"

"It's your home Bruce. I just lived in it."

"That's not true, and you know it." Bruce countered. "You can't just leave Dick. What would that even accomplish? If you stay here then we can fix-"

That was when Dick rounded on Bruce and punched him square in the jaw before the Dark Knight could even react, causing him to crash on the other side of the room. He couldn't take it anymore! He couldn't stand everyone saying that everything would be fixed! Like he was some broken toy that could be put back together. He gave Bruce a glare that could melt steel, even as the older man got back to his feet while nursing his jaw.

"STOP SAYING THAT!" Dick shouted. His walls were finally breaking down. He couldn't keep it in anymore. His secrets had come to light, his sins laid bare, and his actions judged. There was no longer any reason to hide what he felt. All at once, everything he had bottled up in the past two months came forward violently. "You can't fix it Bruce! God, I am so sick of people saying that! 'We'll fix this', 'it'll be okay', 'you'll get through this'! IT'S ALL BULLSHIT! I'll never be okay! I'll never be who I was ever again! I'm a fucking monster! A murderer! A freak! And you stand there and say you can fix it?! Can you resurrect the dead and fix it so that those people I killed are alive?! Can you turn back time and fix it so that I was never with the Court?!"

Without any form of warning, Dick pulled an iron poker from the fireplace and yanked it up before grabbing the red hot end in his other hand, wincing at the pain.

"DICK!" Bruce shouted as he ran to his son, forgetting about the pain in his jaw. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

Dick then released his hold on the poker and threw it back into the fireplace before raising his open palm to show his surrogate father. Even Bruce looked thoroughly disgusted by the sight and stopped in his tracks. Black, charred skin lay at the edges of the burn which itself showed horribly burned and melted flesh, blood not even able to escape from the hideous wound because it was cauterized. Then the skin began to repair itself at speeds that shouldn't be possible. Soon the wound, which at the very least should have left a terrible scar, disappeared as though it had never been there.

"What about that Bruce?! Can you fix fucking that?!"

Dick's eyes always had a tendency to betray him. Especially to someone as well trained as Bruce. That's how his father was able to look past the angry tears and the glares and the screaming. It wasn't the self-hatred or fear or guilt or shame that was the driving force behind Dick's decision. It was true that those things were there, but they weren't what made Dick think that leaving the Manor and leaving Bruce was the only thing to do. That was despair.

Dick, the bright ball of joy that had made even the stoic Batman smile, had given up hope. Given up the mere thought of himself being anything more than a Talon.

Bruce felt his blood freeze inside of his veins from terror at the implications. Dick was surrendering himself to being a monster. And Bruce had played a key role in that. He came to the Manor that night with hope for the future, and was about to leave with anguish and pain in his heart.

And it was all. Because. Of him.

Dick let out a small whimper as he shook his head and wiped his tears away. "There is no fixing what I am Bruce."

Bruce shook his head and lurched for his son, pulling him into a tight, if somewhat awkward hug. He felt the boy tense as soon as they made contact but he didn't care. Dick needed this as much as he did. "Please Dick. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I made you feel this way. I was just so...stunned to see that tape. But that's no excuse for how I reacted. I should have had faith in you. I was wrong. You're not a monster. You're not a freak. You're my son. That will never change no matter-"

"You're a fucking liar." Dick said as he suddenly pulled away from the hug. Bruce looked at him in awe and was prepared to argue when Dick cut him off again.

"I saw you tonight Bruce. I saw the way you looked at me. You can't fake that. You can't hide it." Those words tore into his soul more than Dick could ever realize. He knew right away that his betrayal of his eldest would not be so easily forgiven, but he didn't want to believe that Dick would be the one to suffer the most from his mistake.

"Dick I-"

"Stop. Right now." Dick interrupted. "Anything you say about how you didn't mean it would be an outright lie. So I'm going to give you one last chance to tell the truth here."

Dick let a pregnant pause pass between them as he looked into Bruce's eyes one last time, yellow orbs pleading with him for honesty.

"Can you really promise me that you think I'm the same? That I can be a hero again? Can you promise that the fact that I killed people doesn't change a thing?"

Bruce had already made so many mistakes that night. He hadn't seen the rest of the footage. He had treated Tim and Dick both like they were criminals. He had all but said so much to Dick. For God's sake, he injected his son with liquid nitrogen, then locked him up like some sort of animal!

But for years to come, Bruce would consider what he did next the biggest mistake of his life.

He hesitated. He fucking hesitated! He knew what this would do to his son! He knew that it would break him! But it was like the Batman persona overrode his senses, if only for a moment. The side of him that never allowed for killing, regardless of circumstance. And in one moment, while barely even looking at his son, Bruce did the one thing that would destroy any hope of helping Dick.

"I can't. God forgive me. I can't."

He turned away and covered his face with his hand, which kept him from gauging Dick's reaction. The only thing he had to go off of was Dick's words not a moment later, in the same tone you would hear from someone on death-row. It was the voice of someone who had resigned to their fate.

"Goodbye Bruce."

The billionaire heard the small shuffle of metal, which he knew in his heart was Dick completing the Talon uniform. He still couldn't bring himself to turn around. Out of the corner of his eye and through the spaces in his fingers Bruce could see a dark figure pass through the living room. Soon after came the sound of the large oak doors of the Manor opening and closing with a thud. With no other sound but the flicking of the fireplace, Bruce swore he could also hear Dick's Nightcycle start up and begin to drive off. Soon enough the smooth rumble of the engine faded away and left Bruce to nothing but his own thoughts to fill the silence.

It didn't take long though for him to crash into the couch and cover his face with both hands as he replayed what he did over and over and over.

What had he done?

Another noise soon accompanied him. Footsteps rushing down the staircase. He didn't need to look up. He knew that Alfred was too large to make such a small sound with each step.

"Bruce...what the hell happened?" It was the unspoken 'what did you do?' that Bruce choose to answer.

He still couldn't bring himself to look up. What right did he have to look his son in the eye when he had just so blatantly failed the other?

"I just choose my principles over my own son."

---

Dick

In the back of his mind he felt a bit of psychological discomfort from using the Nightcycle while in his Talon gear. But he also knew that he was driving far too fast for anyone to make out what he was wearing. Besides, all the people in his life who matter already knew what he was. What does he care if the rest of Gotham and Bludhaven found out as well?

The trip to Bludhaven took less than an hour, though Dick had to drive around for a bit to find an area with no onlookers. He finally found one such space in one of the worst areas of the city. Here people only went out at night if they had a death wish. He still climbed up one of the abandoned buildings for good measure though. After taking a quick look around and becoming satisfied that no one was there to see him, Dick removed his hood.

For a moment he just stood there, letting the chilly night air sweep through his ebony locks. Though he now hated the cold with a passion, it had a weird way of clearing his mind. And that was something he desperately needed right now.

For the first time since he was eight years old, Richard John Grayson felt lost. His parents death had nearly undone him completely. It made him feel like there was nothing left for him in the world. But then Bruce came along and grounded him. Gave him a purpose. Gave him a family.

But now he was unmoored once again, like a ship being carried by the tide. This day had completely drained him emotionally. He had used up all the tears he had left. He couldn't even bring himself to feel sad anymore. He couldn't bring himself to feel angry, or lonely, or even scared. He just felt numb now.

And now, he was on his own. But that didn't mean he was without purpose. He only wished it didn't have to be this way. Regardless of what he wanted though, he had finally reached his limit. He had been drowning in misery for so long, and he just wanted it to stop. He couldn't guarantee that this new path would do that for him, but it had become painfully obvious that clinging to his old life would only make it worse. And if there was one thing he had learned in that Labyrinth, it was that being Richard Grayson brought nothing but sorrow and agony. It was easier to be a Talon.

Sooner or later Dick decided it was time to cut his own musings and do what he came here for. With the hood off, Dick reached into his mouth and shifted his fingers inside of it for a bit before he gripped one of his molars and pulled it from it's socket, revealing it to be a false tooth.

Dick still remembered when Bruce had found the tooth the Court placed in his mouth as a child, an owl insignia carved into a coin inside it. That tooth had made Dick come to realize just how long the Court had their eyes on him. They most likely had been planning to make him their Gray Son from the time he was in his mother's womb. Maybe even before that.

After he had the Court's tooth removed, Bruce had insisted on replacing it with a different one. The new tooth had a tracker in it, of course. Despite his protests, Dick had actually appreciated what Bruce was trying to do and the hidden message that came with it. By taking out the Court's tooth and replacing it with his own, it was like he was marking Dick. Saying that the Court no longer had a claim to him. That had been nice to believe for a while.

Of course that tooth had been taken out when the Court captured him. The one he held in his hand now was a brand new one that went in almost as soon as he came back to the manor. Dick had accepted it at the time, desperate to bring something from his old life back to him.

But now he knew better. Now he knew that was just a dream. But regardless of that realization, Dick still had to look away as he crushed the tooth in the palm of his hand. Once there was nothing left of it but fine dust, Dick opened his fist and allowed the remnants to drift out into the wind.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his comm started to buzz in his ear. He had grown so accustomed to wearing one that he completely forgot about it. Hesitantly, he pressed a finger to it and answered. "Hello?"

"Dick." Tim breathed in relief on the other side of the line. Dick knew right away what this was about. His little brother had been tracking him as soon as he left the manor. And with the tooth being the only tracker they had reinstalled, Tim no longer had anyway of knowing where he was. Good.

"Where are you? Your tracker just went offline." He could hear the panic in Tim's tone of voice as he asked. It broke Dick's heart that he was doing this to people he cared about. But that didn't change what had to be done.

"I can't tell you that Timmy." He breathed. He was hoping vainly that using that nickname as an endearment would soften the blow. Of course, Tim was too smart for that to work.

"Dick please." He begged. "Bruce was wrong to say all that to you. Just forget about him. Come back home and we...we'll figure this out."

"I'm so sorry Tim." Dick said as he leaned against the ledge. "I wanted so badly to believe that we could make this work. That I was still a good person. But I was kidding myself. When I said I was just a corpse, I meant it in more ways then just one. Yeah, I'm technically dead. Hell, I barely have a pulse. But that's not what I was talking about. I'm what's left behind after someone died. Richard Grayson and Nightwing went into that Court. I'm the dead body that came out. And yeah, I may look like them, and my voice may sound like theirs, but I'm neither. I'm just another Talon. And now that you all know that...there's only one thing left for me to do."

"No!" The voice in his comm sounded. "No please! Please tell me you're not going to hurt yourself!"

Dick had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Even if that's what I was talking about, I couldn't die even if I wanted to. Trust me on that." He realized his last few words were a mistake the moment he uttered them. But they spilled from his lips without permission and were now out in the open.

"Oh God. You...You've attempted before?" He could hear the catch in Tim's voice now. It hurt to hear, and made him want to hang up now. But Tim deserved an explanation.

"It's no big deal."

"NO BIG DEAL?!" Dick winced at the volume. "YOU TRIED TO KILL YOURSELF AND YOU SAY IT'S NO BIG DEAL?! Dick you better tell me where the fuck you are or I'll call the League and we will scour all of Haven to find you!"

"I'll be gone by the time they get here." He countered impassively. "Like I said, I'm not going to kill myself. Or rather, I physically can't. And since I can't be a hero, and I can't be Dick Grayson, there's only one thing left."

Dick looked down at his claws before continuing. They looked just like they had that night in the maze. The light of the moon caught them in a manner that was purely mesmerizing, and seemed to put him in a trance. And just like that night, someone snapped him out of it. He heard a sharp cry for help in the alley below and rushed to the side to see what was happening. He was greeted by the sight of a man pinning a young woman by her wrists as she was scrambling to get him off of her. The small fire of rage that ignited in him at the sight solidified his next words.

"I'm sorry Tim. But I'm a monster. So I'm going to do what monsters do." Without waiting for a response, Dick yanked the comm from his ear and flicked it carelessly to the side. He then pulled down his hood and jumped into the alley below, before stalking towards the unsuspecting man.

By the end of the night, he was satisfied that Bludhaven had one less criminal within it's borders. The fact that this line of action would cost him his soul was of no concern anymore. It was a price he was willing to pay.

There was no more Nightwing. No more Robin. No more Dick Grayson.

There was only Talon.

---

Author's notes:

(1) Refers to when Nightwing worked alongside the vigilante Tarantula in an attempt to bring down Blockbuster, only for Tarantula to sexually assault him while he had a panic attack and was unable to fight her off.

So it turns out I'm extending the story again. This has nothing to do with the length of the chapter, but I decided the I really like this as a cliffhanger (I'm evil) and I was anxious to get this up.

P.S. regarding my personal life. My friend has had some health problems in the past so the coronavirus could be lethal if she gets infected. It's starting to spread around where we live, so right now it's a big concern. I'm not sure if religion is your thing, but I would really appreciate it if you would all send up a prayer for her.

Thank you all very much and I hope to update soon.