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.

5. Hero

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

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Dick

Dick was laying down in his bed staring up at the ceiling. Despite what had taken place earlier that night, this was a surprisingly peaceful moment. There was no shouting between the Bats, no tears spilled in apologizes or pleadings for forgiveness. Nothing at all really. There was no emotion to him whatsoever.

But still, he could hardly call this a state of calm. It felt like his insides were being gripped by an invisible force and being twisted and jerked violently within him.

This wasn't right. He had nearly killed the woman who tortured him for months mere hours ago. Bruce had poured his heart and soul out to him. Dick had no idea what he should be feeling after all that, but he knew he should be feeling something.

This was not the first time this had happened to him. This unwelcome feeling of numbness. It had come to him once before in his life. It had been the night that his family had died.

Oddly enough, he hadn't even cried at first. He had screamed of course, and remained horrified for several hours. After that he just entered a sort catatonic state and didn't respond at all when the officers on the scene attempted to ask him questions. He hadn't fully grasped the situation yet. The finality of it.

Ironically that state of numbness would end up being the best he would feel in the days to come. A calm before the storm. But as storms always do, it overturned the peace suddenly and violently.

He had just been sitting there in the back of a police car with a thin and worn blanket draped around his shoulders. He was staring ahead of him, but didn't really perceive anything he heard nor saw. Not until he saw one of the officers bagging a particular piece of evidence. He wasn't sure how he had even noticed it in that state, but he had.

It had been a small, stainless steel locket. He knew it right away. He and John had asked mister Haly for some money so they could go into town and eat. He hadn't given them much, but in Dick's childish and carefree mind he was certain it would be enough. He and his cousin went into town, not to get food, but to go to a jewelry store.

His mother's birthday would be coming up soon, and he had wanted to buy her something special. He fell in love with the locket in the display case the moment he saw it, and asked the woman who ran the store if his mommy could please have it. The woman had smiled kindly at him. Looking back, there was no way on Earth that the money they had with them was enough for such a beautiful piece. She had been sold it to them for what must have been a fifth of what it was worth because it had been so heart warming for a son to love his mother so much.

A few days later, his mother was opening a long line of gifts from everyone at the circus. There wasn't a man, woman, or child who met Mary Grayson and didn't love her. He and John had saved their joint present for last.

They had managed to make the locket exactly as they wanted. The woman at the store had been overly generous and had a picture of the entire Grayson family set inside of it. And on the other side of it, the following words were engraved proudly in Romani:

~Te iubesc atât de mult mami! La multi ani! De, micul tău prihor.~

~I love you so much mommy! Happy Birthday! From, your little robin.~

His mother had been shocked at first, no doubt wondering how her son ever could have afforded it. But that shock eventually gave way to unrestrained joy. Her smile had been like a light. It reflected in everyone's faces. That smile was without exception the most beautiful thing Dick Grayson had ever beheld. She wore that necklace proudly at every single performance from that point onward.

And then, he saw that very same locket being zipped up inside an evidence bag, with blood splattered over the picture inside.

That had done it. That had caused the dam to burst. Suddenly, eight year old Richard Grayson understood the situation. He would never see his family again. He would never again feel his cousin ruffle his hair or tease him until they rough housed. Never again have his aunt and uncle pinch his cheeks and marvel at how adorable he was. Never again ask his father to cuddle him in his strong yet soft hugs.

Never again see his mother smile like she had on that day when she saw her present from her little robin.

Dick had scared the officers senseless by suddenly bursting into tears, seemingly without provocation. All they could do was hush the boy and tell him that everything would be okay. He had wanted so badly to scream at them that it wasn't okay. That it would never be okay.

But all that came from his mouth were agonizing sobs.

His family was dead.

He was alone.

How could it ever be okay again?

But a month or so later, Bruce entered his life.

And suddenly, he had a family again.

But now he had no idea what would come next.

He had completely panicked when Bruce passed out from his injuries before they even got to the car. He had used his enhanced strength to load the older man into the passengers' seat and take the wheel, before proceeding to drive like a madman to the cave. He had no idea he had hit Bruce that hard. He had just been so angry, and it had been like everyone around him was fair game.

He had made it to the cave in less than three minutes, and carried Bruce over his shoulder to the medical wing. Imagine his surprise when he found Doctors Tompkins and Mid-Nite already in the cave with Alfred. They had been leaning over one of the medical cots and didn't seem to notice someone had entered the cave until he started screaming for help.

Alfred stood there looking at him like he had seen a ghost, but the two medical professionals running past him seemed to snap him back to reality. They got Bruce to a different cot and started to look him over. Before anyone could ask him what had happened, Dick turned his head and saw who they had been working on, and his heart stopped. It was Tim. The Team must have beaten him here and dropped him off.

But he wasn't moving! Why wasn't he moving?!

He demanded to know what was wrong with Tim right then and there. Mid-Nite, still looking over Bruce's uncountable injuries, had given him the uncensored truth without thinking. His skull had been fractured, and he had a concussion that they would need to bring down.

Dick's stomach dropped and his legs nearly gave out then and there. He had looked between the two unconscious heroes as the horrible truth finally dawned on him.

He had done this. Him. It was like the haze of anger had finally faded away, and now he could see what he had done for what it was. He had nearly killed his father and brother. And that wasn't even the extent of it.

He had all but strangled Artemis! She had a massive bruise on her throat at the mansion, but he had been to preoccupied with trying to kill the Judge to really care. Oh God, Wally must hate him! And what about Babs?! He had abandoned her right when her world had begone to crumble around her!

How could he ever hope for any this right after all he had done?!

But just as quickly as it had come, his feelings of panic had drifted away. A dull indifference had crept in where feeling should have been. It was like a part of him decided he simply wasn't going to deal with it, and closed off all his emotion. He had no idea what brought it on, or what he was supposed to do next. He only knew one thing.

He knew that couldn't do this. He couldn't stay here and continue to look at what he had done. Not right now. Not after everything else that had happened that night.

Dick had run upstairs in a blur, ignoring Alfred's worried calls for him.

That was how he found himself in his current position. Hiding in his bedroom in the manor, staring up at the ceiling, remaining as still as a corpse. He didn't know what else he could do.

Where would he go? What would he do?

Before he could dwell on his future any further, a soft knock came at the door. Dick's whole body snapped to attention, a lingering reflex from his time with the Court, at the sound. He stood up and got into a defensive stance out of habit, even though he knew logically that someone coming after him wouldn't bother to knock first.

"Master Richard?" A firm accented voice asked from the other side of the door.

It was odd how the sound of the elderly man's voice caused his whole body to relax once again. Dick made his way to the door slowly and opened it to find Alfred with his hand raised, most likely about to knock again.

Alfred was looking at him with an unreadable expression, and it occurred to Dick that such a reaction made perfect sense. He had come into the cave with Bruce practically on death's door. Alfred could only deal with one earth-shattering revelation at a time. He probably hadn't taken in the full weight of Dick's presence in the manor before now.

Dick's musings were abruptly cut short when he was suddenly lurched forward by a pair of arms pulling him into a warm embrace. Alfred, the man who showed emotion even less than Bruce, was hugging him. Dick thought he felt a small tremble in the man's form, and he knew for a fact that Alfred was rubbing small circles on his back just like he used to do when Dick was a child, but the original Boy Wonder still couldn't bring himself to feel a thing.

Emotion or no, Dick still had common sense, and still cared about his loved ones. He slowly brought his own arms up to return the hug, albeit a very slight and gentle one. Even months after his transformation, Dick was still not quite accustomed to his new strength. And he had hurt Alfred enough as of late.

"You foolish boy." Alfred muttered into his shoulder. "Don't you dare put this family through that ever again."

Dick gave Alfred a small squeeze rather than a verbal response. His mind was a mess right now, thoughts of what may come next were swirling in is head like a storm cloud, and he still wasn't sure what it was that he was feeling. But there was only one thing he was clear on. He didn't ever want his family to hurt on his account.

They stayed like that for another minute before Alfred pulled back from the hug and shifted his hands circular motion on the boy's back to a grip on his shoulder. Alfred was staring at him now. Taking him in like he was checking to see if anything had changed in Dick since they last saw each other.

Something most definitely had. The last time they had seen each other, Dick had been a mess, haunted by nightmares over his past deeds and fearful of discovery. Then there was the period where Dick left, which Alfred hadn't been present for. At that time his vulnerability had mutated into unrestrained hatred and wrath. And now...well...

Now he didn't even know. He had no idea what this hollow feeling in his chest would give way to, or when it might subside. What the hell was he supposed to feel after he beat his father and brother into unconsciousness, and then watched as the woman that had destroyed his life was dragged away in handcuffs? He had already shed his tears and vented his anger, and those were the only two things that had accompanied him since his return from the Court (sans the short lived periods of joy that Wally and Roy had given him). With neither depression nor rage, it was like there was nothing left for him to feel.

"Master Dick?" Again the former assassin's thoughts were cut short by the sound of Alfred's voice. Dick's eyes refocused on him. For some reason, Alfred looked far older than he was. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Dick said, more out of reflex than thought. Alfred's eyes instantly narrowed on him. Dick may have been able to dodge Bruce's questions from time to time, but never Alfred's. Dick sighed and lowered his head as he turned around and went back to his bed. "Everything?" He said in an unsure tone as he plopped back down on the mattress in a sitting position. "I don't know."

Alfred's brows furrowed as he walked in and sat down next to Dick. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"That makes two of us." Dick said without any sharpness. His tone was far more akin to exhaustion. He let out a long sigh before elaborating. "What the hell happens now?"

Alfred still looked at the young man like he didn't understand what the problem was. He made movement to put his arm around the young lad as he answered. "You're home now Master Dick. You don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Don't I?" Dick asked as he shrugged off Alfred's arm, still keeping his eyes down. "I killed five people, and tortured another nine. Not to mention all the people I've been terrorizing in Bludhaven the last few months. To top it off I tried to kill someone in front of Batman and the entire Team earlier tonight. Things can never be the same again."

Though his words were depressing to hear, the tone they were delivered in was calloused. Dick was so concerned right now over what came next that he couldn't even summon the energy to regret his acts over the past two months, nor the deaths with in the Labyrinth which proceeded them. He didn't even care at the moment.

It didn't go unnoticed by Alfred. Oddly enough this uncaring state that Dick was in was far more concerning than the traumatized state he was in upon his initial return to the manor. Even his two month long rampage did not frighten Alfred this much. Dick Grayson was the heart of the family. He was the one who wasn't afraid to let himself feel, and share his emotions with others. He was no tormented man that had grown numb to the world. (He wasn't like his mentor.) At least, he hadn't been. But that had been before all of this.

At that thought Alfred allowed his mind to wander to what Dick had said. What did come next? They could try to help Dick through this, but the boy had been right in saying that things wouldn't be as they once had. The bond that had once existed between Bruce and Tim was damaged. In fact, 'damaged' was putting it lightly. As far as Alfred was concerned, it was irrevocably torn to pieces. They could try to repair the bond, and might succeed to some degree, but something deep within the butler told him that something had been lost between them. And that thing was gone forever.

As for Dick...that was another matter entirely. Richard had been through more in the span of a few months than most people had to endure in a lifetime. He had killed. He had nearly been killed. Alfred knew from personal experience that there was no expiration date on that kind of trauma. For better or for worse, Dick would never be the same again.

But then again, Dick had always been one to fight against the odds. The entire family had. And sometimes they even succeeded. Alfred could only hope that this would be one of those times. And make that happen, he would have to play his part as well.

"Let's not think about that right now." He said, believing that dismissing the question rather than scramble to come up with a reasonable answer that may not exist. "Right now you are home and you are with your family. That is all that we could ever hope to ask for."

Alfred felt the corners of his lips tug downwards when he realized that his words had done nothing to sway Dick from his emotional impasse. He hadn't been sure if it were a good idea, and he still had his qualms with it, but he saw no alternative now. "Master Bruce is awake." Alfred said, breaking the heavy silence between them. "He is asking for you."

His words at least got a response out of Dick. The young boy turned to him with a startled expression and something akin to fear. Of all the emotions he was hoping to get out of the boy, that had not been one of them.

"What the fuck?" Dick said under his breath. Normally Alfred would berate him for using such language on the spot, but if ever there were a time let it slide... "What the fuck?!" Dick repeated, his voice raising in volume. "Why would he want to see me?!"

"You are his son." Alfred answered matter-of-factly, remaining unmovable despite Dick's use of profanity. "Why wouldn't he want to see you?"

"I just beat him to a bloody pulp!" Dick said, the small amount of panic that had been in his voice being replaced with exasperation. "What the hell do I say to him after that?!"

"I don't know Master Dick." Alfred answered honestly. "I truly don't know. But you two need to speak to each other. And I am aware that it is a great deal to ask from you, given everything you've been through, but I must ask you to find it in your heart to forgive him."

Dick was giving Alfred a look that told the older man he didn't understand the request. Forgive him? For what exactly. It was true that a part of him still blamed Bruce for not finding him and rescuing him, but there was no way for Alfred to know that. He must have been talking about something-

Oh. Oooohhhhhhh. There was really only one other point of contention between the original Dynamic Duo. Only one that Alfred would have knowledge about anyway. He meant the way Bruce had reacted to seeing that tape. The confrontation which had started this whole mess.

But that revelation did nothing to assuage his confusion. Because what was there to forgive? Bruce had taken it a step too far by even considering Arkham as an option. No one denied that. But Dick never blamed Bruce for the way he reacted. "There's nothing to forgive."

Alfred narrowed his eyes on the younger man. Even Dick didn't sound convinced by his own words. Dick just shook his head and looked away. "I know he didn't mean it. He was...shocked...seeing me like that."

"Of course, Master Dick." Alfred said in a calm voice. "Now if only you believed that."

Dick's eyes snapped to Alfred with a glare already forming on his face. "What are you-"

"I have served the Wayne family long before there was a bat signal shining in Gotham's sky." Alfred reminded the young man. A part of him berated himself for cutting Richard off mid-sentence, but this was far more important than being courteous. "And you are a part of that family. That is why, even while you lot may be able to hide your inner turmoil from the rest of the world, you cannot and you will not be able to hide it from me, Master Dick. And that is why I know a part of you has yet to forgive him."

Dick fixed him with a frustrated glare. "So what? I don't know my own mind but you do?"

Alfred sighed and pressed his middle finger to his temple where a headache was just beginning to form. He decided to take a different approach to get through the boy's incredibly thick skull. "Master Dick, if you truly believed that Master Bruce was not in the wrong, and you never resented him for his behavior in any way, you would feel relieved to be back in this manor." The elderly man explained as he looked to the younger imploringly. "Tell me, do you feel relieved?"

Dick's glare faded and vanished, quickly replaced by a look of uncertainty. "I don't know what I'm feeling."

"Well you are not relieved Master Dick. You're miserable. And so is Master Bruce." Alfred said as he put his hand back on Dick's shoulder despite his repeated attempts to shrug it off. "I beg of you, Master Dick. Go to him. Put an end to this."

There was not much he could really say to argue the butler's point. Alfred's word was law. Besides, he was still that same state of uncomfortable numbness, (not counting the brief, short lived flickers of emotion that came up while he talked to his surrogate grandfather) and the best way to get rid of that would be to see what he had done to Bruce. He would take anything at this point. Even guilt.

He nodded slowly and got up from the bed, going downstairs without another word. The sensation was familiar in a horrible way. While playing at being a Talon, he had followed the Court's orders while refusing to let any expression or defiance arise in his features. Now he was doing it involuntarily.

As he went downstairs, Dick found that he had been dormant in his room for longer than he realized. The sun was well over the horizon, and was currently filling the manor with a warm glow as it shined in through the windows. No wonder Alfred had looked so tired. It also explained why Bruce was suddenly awake.

Dick tried his best to keep his mind clear as he moved through the manor, pushed aside the grandfather clock, and went down to the cave. Once inside he saw Tompkins and Mid-Nite chatting in the corner. His sensitive ears picked up on bits and pieces of the conversation. He caught the words 'not too bad' and 'a few stitches'. They probably meant Tim. He had done a number on Bruce, and they would never qualify the condition Dick had left him in as 'not too bad'.

Dick utilized the his stealth techniques (both those he developed as Nightwing, as well as those beaten into him by Cobb) to sneak past the two doctors. He made his way into the medical bay of the cave, and looked through the clear barrier that separated him from his family.

He saw Tim's room first. The now Ex-Boy Wonder was still out of it. That said, his injuries didn't seem too severe. The only thing to indicate that he was knocked out rather than just sleeping was the medical gauze that Tompkins had wrapped around his head at the sight of the injury, which still allowed a large tuft of ebony hair to peak out from the top. His expression was rather peaceful. There was only one problem.

His suit was red. Dick had noticed this before, and it was most likely some kind of assertion of independence from the Bat. But still, that sight set something off in him. Dick blinked, and in an instant he was no longer seeing Tim. He was looking at Jason's corpse. His body broken by the explosion that stole his life. His uniform dyed red with his own blood.

Dick shook his head in defiance, refusing to allow his mind to dwell on that particularly painful memory. He looked back up, and again he saw Tim Drake in the place of Jason Todd.

Dick backed away from the small medical room, but did not proceed forward to find Bruce's right away. He needed a moment to process the momentary flashback, as well as what was to come. Tim's head wound was nowhere near as bad as what he had done to Bruce. He needed to mentally prepare himself for what he was going to have to take in. He almost turned around, but that nagging feeling in his chest returned and once more he became desperate to feel anything other than this internal silence.

When Dick finally did find Bruce's room, he almost wished he hadn't.

There was a steady stream of blood flowing from the corner of Bruce's mouth, and he was missing a tooth that would have to be replaced. Dick could tell by his posture that the ribs on his left side were shattered, and there were definitely a few on his right that were bruised and fractured. There was some damage to his right arm as well. It would need pins to set it. His nose was broken too, and one eye was swollen shut.

This may very well have been the worst state Richard had ever seen Bruce in, and he was the cause.

It was just like what had happened to Zucco. Anger had completely overwritten all his other senses. It was like there had been a mile of fog between his mind and what he had been doing. Now that fog had lifted, and he could see his actions for what they were.

Suddenly shame pieced through the wall that had been protecting him from feeling anything. And that shame crept into his heart like a poison and corrupted it. And that hole in his armor gave way even further and allowed him to feel. And he felt grief, and he felt guilt, and more than anything he felt fear. He felt afraid that he had doomed himself. That he had cost himself far more than his soul, but his family.

And it just like it had been when he first saw that blood stained locket. Not only were his emotions coming back to him, they came with a vengeance. That fear wound about his heart like a snake and it began to squeeze the life out of him.

Would Bruce be okay? Would he even want Dick in the same room with him? Yes, he had told Alfred as much. But Bruce was probably on very strong pain meds. Yeah, that was it. Bruce wasn't in the right state of mind when he had said that. That was fine. Dick didn't think he could stand being there another sec-

"Dick." Bruce's voice broke through the fog of panic that had clouded his mind.

Dick nearly jumped out of his skin at the abrupt break in the silence of the cave. He turned back around despite his eagerness to leave and saw Bruce looking at him with...Dick didn't even want to say. He had resolved that he was hallucinating. Because Batman was most certainly not looking at him with a pleading expression. There were very few instances where Bruce allowed some semblance of human emotion to set themselves unto his features, but one of begging simply was not possible.

But here it was, right in front of his eyes. Bruce wasn't just vulnerable, he looked desperate.

Not for the first time that night, Dick had no idea what to do.

It was only after Bruce groaned in a foolish yet successful attempt to sit up and look at his son that he gave Dick some direction. "Come here. Please."

Too shell-shocked to argue or ignore his request Dick simply went inside and took the seat next to Bruce's cot.

The first few minutes were utter agony. One would be able to cut the tension in the room with a knife. Not a word passed between them, and in the silence Dick could do nothing but wonder what Bruce thought about him. Zucco had been one thing. A mere tape could never come close to capturing what had happened in that maze. But Bruce had just witnessed him mere moments away from cutting down an unarmed woman, no matter how much she deserved it. More than that, he had hurt both Bruce and Tim. His hatred for the Judge overpowered him, and completely governed his senses. With that anger now gone, or at least significantly lessened, he now ore the full weight of what he had done. Once more his mind began to swarm with unwanted, anxious thoughts. What if Timmy never forgave him? What if Bruce didn't? What if-

"Dick?" Bruce asked, snatching his attention away from his pestering thoughts.

When Dick looked up, the detective skills that had been drilled into him since age eight picked up on something he hadn't even been looking for. His earlier belief that Bruce asked him here in a morphine haze was clearly incorrect.

Because Bruce wasn't on any pain meds whatsoever. He wasn't hooked up to any IVs at all. Besides the short period during which he had been incapacitated, Dick had to assume that Bruce had been conscious for most of the time that the doctors tended to his wounds.

It didn't come as a terrible surprise. Dick himself had received stitches in that very same cave numerous times without the benefit of anesthetic. But Bruce's condition was nowhere near that simplistic. Again Dick ran over the injuries he had inflicted unto his guardian as he looked the man up and down, estimating the amount of pain he would have been in. In the back of his mind, he could not help but wonder how in the world Alfred had stood for this. Sure Bruce had a high tolerance for pain, but he must have been in agony.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked. Even in his current state, the billionaire could see the concerning look on his son's face.

He was disappointed to see Dick suddenly curl up into a defensive posture in his seat in response to his well-meaning question. "Nothing. I'm fine." Dick said, though that particular lie was getting far too familiar, even to the young acrobat's ears. "What about you? I'm surprised that Tompkins didn't put you on a morphine pump in your condition."

"She tried. I convinced her to wait until after I talked to you." Bruce said, hoping that his son would get the obvious meaning in that gesture. That he was willing to endure the pain because it was that important that he get the chance to speak to Dick.

However, Dick didn't seem to take it that way. He shook his head in obvious disapproval. "You're an idiot."

Bruce's heart sank. It was hard to believe that mere hours ago, this was the same young man that had been curled up tightly on his chest as he shamelessly sobbed into it. His own detective skills picked up on the fact that this was not a traditional relapse though. Dick hadn't once again become consumed by anger. He could see and hear it all in his features, his tone, and his stance. He could see that Dick wasn't allowing himself to feel anything at all. And as rich as it was to come from him, that simply wasn't healthy.

"Dick, please-"

"I'm not sorry." Dick suddenly snapped with no small hint of malice. "I wanted to go after the Judge and you got in the way. I'm not sorry that I tried to kill her. I'm not even sorry that I nearly killed you. So if you wanted me here because you were expecting some long-winded apology where I beg for your forgiveness then-"

"Actually," Bruce interrupted, his expression unreadable. "I asked you down here so that I could beg you to forgive me."

Dick tore his gaze off of the random spot on the floor he had been staring at and fixed his now wide eyes on Bruce. It had become a bit of a habit since the Court. He would look somewhere, anywhere but into the eyes of the person he was talking to. If he dared to make eye contact with someone he knew what he would find. Pitying stares. Recoils due to his yellow eyes. Sometimes he even saw visible fear.

But that wasn't the case now. In Bruce's grey orbs were filled with something else. Something he never dreamed possible for the Caped Crusader. Longing.

A deeply seated wanting had taken root in Bruce's heart. And Dick knew exactly what it was that he wanted. He knew because he once had that same look.

It was a burning desire for absolution. For forgiveness. Dick wanted to be forgiven for what he did more than anything after he escaped the Court of Owls. In many ways, he still wanted it.

But in Bruce it was much fiercer. His need to be forgiven was eating away at him. He had seen it in their fight. Even as a Talon, Dick never should have been able to best Bruce so easily. He had seen something in the way he moved. Something that was throwing him off his game. And now Dick finally knew what it was. He knew what Bruce wanted to hear. He knew what it would mean for Bruce to hear the three simple words 'I forgive you'.

There was just one problem.

"There's nothing to forgive."

Bruce's reaction was a far cry from Alfred's when he had said the exact same thing to the butler. Where Alfred glared at him in annoyance for his ignorance in actually having the gall make such a foolish claim, Bruce looked scared out of his wits that Dick might actually believe it.

Dick sighed and laid back in his chair to elaborate, looking away from Bruce again and peering out through the clear barrier of the small room they were in. "I can't imagine what you must have thought of me after you saw that tape. I get it. The way you reacted..." Dick suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He honestly didn't know what to say. He couldn't really say that the way Bruce reacted to the tape was in any way right, no matter how much he was ashamed of the events that took place on it. He supposed it was understandable...it was just that...well...

"It was wrong." Bruce interjected. Dick looked at him again and was prepared to restart the argument when Bruce cut him off again. "It was. I've had a long time to think about what I did to you, and more than enough people telling me in excruciating detail what I did wrong. You were the victim of it, and I am so sorry that I lost sight of that. And I was so focused on what you had done, I failed to see what it had done to you. I meant every word of what I said tonight. You're no monster. You're my son, even if I failed you as a father. I'm so sorry Dick. And not just for what happened the night I found out. I'm sorry for everything that came after. The Owls. Haly. All of it."

Now Dick was lost. Bruce was making it sound like he had been the one who attacked those people. "The Owls and Haly? But I'm the one who-"

"That's all on me." Bruce assured quietly, hushing Dick. "The choices I made took all of your choices away, and I have failed you. And for that I am more sorry than you could ever know. You didn't do anything wrong. Not a thing. This is my burden to bare alone."

Dick sat down in awe, trying to sort through everything he had just heard. For two months straight he had wanted to hear those words. That his actions were justified. That Bruce understood why he did it. That Bruce still thought of him as a son. But now that the long awaited moment had come, Dick had no idea what to do. He was tempted to believe that this was all some manner of cruel trick on Bruce's part. He didn't dare allow himself to hope.

But a part of him had already begun to believe Bruce. Once again the barrier that protected him from feeling any emotion gave way, and allowed in something new. It allowed in hope. And it allowed that hope to lay down roots, and guide his next action.

"You mean you..." Dick tried his best to swallow the lump in his throat. "...you don't hate me?"

It was the only thing he could assume after so long. After the way Bruce had responded to finding out about Zucco and the others, and then his suggestion to lock him up with the Joker and his fellow psychopaths in Arkham, Dick was sure that Bruce must have hated him. A part of him still believed it as he and Bruce fought in the Judges home. That he hadn't been there to rescue his son, but to capture a criminal.

He didn't get a verbal response. Instead, Bruce defied medical science and lurched forward from the bed to wrap his arms around Dick, pulling the young man into a warm and tight embrace. Dick remained frozen in place as Bruce's form started to tremble. Something told Dick that it wasn't just the pain causing it.

"I could never hate you Dickie." Dick felt his arms go numb at his side and his mind go completely blank when Bruce spoke. It wasn't so much the context of what he said as what he heard when Bruce spoke. That hitch in his voice. The way he was shaking.

Bruce Wayne was crying.

Dick had only seen Bruce cry one other instance in his life, during Jason's funeral. At the time he had too caught up in his own grief to really care. Dick wasn't sure how he felt about being the cause of the second instance.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Despite having said it already numerous time that night, Bruce continued to mumble the phrase into Dick's shoulder like a mantra.

Eventually Dick snapped out of his initial shock and reflexively brought up his own arms to return the hug. "It's okay Bruce. You don't have to apologize."

As his son continued to try and soothe him, all Bruce could think about was how pathetic he was in this situation. He should be the one comforting Dick, not the other way around. He didn't deserve this act of kindness after all he had done. No one else in the world would have ever done this for someone who had treated them so horribly. The current exchange between father and son only served to remind that Dick Grayson was God's gift to the world.

After a while, Bruce pulled back from the hug and shifted his grip to Dick's shoulders, giving his son a leveled stare. "I could never hate you Dick. Tonight, I couldn't be more proud of you."

Every other sentence out of Bruce's mouth was causing Dick's head to spin. First he had stated that all he wanted was to beg for forgiveness, then he had insisted that Dick's actions were his own fault rather than his son's, topped it off by claiming that he could never hate Dick (which contradicted everything Dick had believed over the last two months), and now he was claimed he was proud?

Dick voiced the obvious question without thinking. "Proud of me? But...the Judge..." Dick still didn't regret his actions by any means, but was Bruce honestly saying that he was supportive of Dick's behavior earlier that night?

"You could have killed her." Batman interrupted. When he saw Dick's face contort into something akin to worry, he was quick to finish the sentiment. "You could have chosen revenge. You could have. But you didn't. You did the one thing I've never been capable of. You chose to forgive."

"I don't forgive her!" Dick bit out sharply the moment the statement left Bruce's lips. That woman would never have his forgiveness! She didn't deserve it! She didn't even want it. "I'll never forgive her!"

However, these thoughts triggered something in Dick's mind. The request Alfred had made of him earlier.

"I am aware that it is a great deal to ask from you, given everything you've been through, but I must ask you to find it in your heart to forgive him."

All these thoughts of forgiveness had brought it back to the front of his mind. He hadn't been sure what to make of Alfred's request before now. But as he recalled that statement, and looked at Bruce with the absolute need to be forgiven still there...

...Dick did the only thing that he thought he could. Despite it all...despite all the pain and the heartache and the betrayals...

...Bruce was still his father.

"I don't forgive her." He repeated with conviction clear in his voice. "But I do forgive you."

He wasn't even sure if he meant it. It was hard to tell with that sense of numbness still weighing heavily in the center of his chest like a ball of steel. But that weight certainly felt lighter when he saw the smile Bruce gave him upon hearing his declaration. Dick could practically feel the relief that was radiating off of Bruce.

It looked like Bruce was about to say something when a small knocking at the door pulled them away from the peaceful moment. Dick whipped around in his seat to he Doctor Tompkins standing in the doorway. She seemed relieved to find Dick behaving so civilly with Bruce.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. I know the two of you still have a lot to talk about, but you've reached your ultimatum Bruce." Leslie said, earning her a questioning look from Dick. She was quick to elaborate. "The only reason his major injuries haven't been treated and he's not on the strongest painkillers we have is because he somehow convinced me that you two needed to talk first. I gave him a time limit for how long he could stay this way before I administered the drugs by force, and it just ran out."

"I'll be out of it for another day or two once she begins." Bruce added lightly. "That was why I wanted to talk to you so soon."

Dick nodded absentmindedly. Internally he was still trying to comprehend all that had just been said. It was so hard to believe that they had been in the Judge's mansion earlier that night. It already felt like a lifetime ago. And then there was everything he had just listened to regarding Bruce and...

...a part of Dick was suddenly relieved that the barrier that separated his consciousness from his emotions was still up. If he allowed himself to process everything that had taken place in that one night, he'd probably explode.

Dick had been lectured by Alfred and Leslie enough times to know the rule of 'no visitors in our sterile field'. He took Leslie's insistence on treating Bruce's worse injuries as his cue to leave and got up from his bedside chair before turning back to the bedridden vigilante. "We'll...um...we'll talk later." He said awkwardly as he began to shuffle out of the room.

"I love you." A voice called after him.

Not for the first time that night, Dick completely froze in place. He didn't think he could have moved if he tried. His mind was sent reeling, and his heart leapt into his throat.

Had he just imagined that? Had Bruce really just said...?

Dick turned around slowly and met Bruce's soft smile with his own shell shocked expression.

He could tell right away that it had been real. He hadn't made it up. This was real. He had actually said it.

This wasn't news for Dick. He had known, or at least suspected, for a long time how Bruce felt about him. This should not have affected him as much as it was, and yet...

...just to hear the words out loud. Have an actual, genuine expression of love from Bruce. It completely defied everything he knew about his mentor. Their affection for each other had always been an unspoken one. He never thought that he would actually hear the words aloud, and he had been okay with that. He certainly thought he was anyway.

But now he had heard them.

It was real.

Bruce loved him.

Dick turned back around quickly when he felt his eyes begin to get wet so Bruce and Leslie wouldn't see. Again he felt something pierce the barrier that was keeping him numb through all of it. Not only was that barrier pierced, it was shattered. Something told Dick that it wouldn't be reformed any time soon. And this time it was not shock, or guilt, or shame, or grief that had broken through.

It was unrestrained happiness.

Dick felt the corners of his lips shift upwards against his will as tears continued to soak his face. "I love you too." He whispered. He wasn't even sure if Bruce heard it, but Dick didn't really care at the moment.

With that said, Dick ran out of the room to run back upstairs before Bruce had a chance to respond. He wanted to leave quickly because he felt like he would start laughing or crying or more likely both. He hadn't felt this good in years.

Bruce loved him.

Bruce loved him.

Bruce loved him.

Maybe it wasn't to late for them after all. Maybe there was hope for their dysfunctional little family yet. Maybe Bruce had been right all along.

Maybe Dick Grayson was still very much alive.

---

Tim

Three days later

Tim could say with absolute certainty that this was not how he expected Dick's return to go.

For one thing, he and Dick had barely spoken to each other since he got back. Neither of them were trying to avoid the other by any means, but Dick was practically chained to Bruce's bedside day in and day out. And Tim was most definitely avoiding Bruce.

Tim had only gone into Bruce allotted room in the medical wing once or twice. Both times Bruce had been unconscious, and Dick had been sitting there watching over him like a guard dog. When Tim had invited himself into the room, things didn't go very well. It was pretty awful, not to mention awkward as hell, and Dick couldn't stop himself from looking at Tim's head wound every three minutes. The closest thing they had to a conversation was Dick apologizing for hurting him and Tim's insistence that it was alright. Other then that it had been complete silence.

The second thing that bothered him was that Tim had been forced to unofficially move back into the manor. Alfred had forbidden him from leaving the grounds until he was fully healed. This stipulation didn't bother him too much. He wanted to be there for Dick when he was ready to talk. What did bother him was that his assertion of independence over the last two months had just gone out the window. Bruce and Alfred would probably try to keep him here and pretend that he had never left.

Another thing that bothered him was that he was pretty sure that Dick hadn't left Bruce's bedside once in the last 48 hours. The ex-assassin hadn't even bothered to check in with his friends, if his constant messages from the Team were anything to go off of. Tim wasn't sure what to tell them because he himself had no idea what the hell was going on with Dick. It was like he was an entirely different person. He seemed...happier? Less than a week ago he had been prowling around Gotham and Bludhaven like a bloodthirsty animal, and now he was curled up at Bruce's side like an obedient pet.

And that was the thing that Tim couldn't stand. The other things he was flexible on, but this he would not stand for. He had seen it in the way that Dick looked at Bruce. The way he behaved. The very fact that he hadn't left the manor the moment someone wasn't looking.

Dick forgave Bruce.

A part of him knew it was petty and self-centered. After all, it wasn't really any of his business. Dick forgave Bruce. Big deal. His brother was a better person than him then.

But that was the logical side of his brain talking. The part of him that was a selfish teenager was outraged. It demanded to know what the hell Bruce had done in order to trick the acrobat into forgiving him. Who did he think he was?! What even gave him the right to ask for Dick's forgiveness?! Nothing less than getting down on his knees would have been acceptable, and Tim doubted that was what Bruce had done.

Ultimately, Tim decided that he had no business in judging Dick for his choice.

Dick had forgiven Bruce.

But Tim didn't see that as likely for his own conflict with his mentor.

Tim was yanked from his thoughts by a pounding on the front door. It must have been hard for him to be able to hear it all the way in his bedroom. He was tempted to let Alfred get it or just let the person on the other side wear themselves out, but curiosity eventually got the better of him and the Boy Wonder reluctantly ascended from his bed to head downstairs.

The rate of knocking seemed to increase exponentially by the moment. By the time Tim reached the door, it sounded like a jackhammer. He opened it quickly to find a familiar freckled face on the other side.

"Wherethehellhaveyou-" Wally stopped himself when he saw that Tim was the one who had answered the door.

Wally was anxious and a bit angry. It was obvious even without Tim's detective skills. Understandable. Even if it had only been three days...

...well, just look at what happened the last time Dick went radio silent on them.

"Hi Wally." Tim said in an effort to break the ice.

"Tim." Wally said awkwardly as he made a move to enter the mansion. When Tim didn't object, he proceeded forward hastily. "Hey. Sorry about that. I thought you were..."

"I get it." Tim responded. He was honestly surprised Wally had waited this long. Speedsters were notoriously impatient, and the entire Team was no doubt anxious to know what the situation was. But how was Tim supposed to explain it to them when he couldn't even explain it to himself. Dick seemed fine enough, but he was so concerned with Bruce that he hadn't bothered talking to Tim except to apologize. It was hard to get a fix on his mental state from that one conversation.

Perhaps Wally being here was a good thing then. If anyone were able to get Dick to open up, the redhead would be that person. And since he couldn't describe the situation very well, Wally seeing it with his own eyes would be a good alternative.

"Where is he?" Wally suddenly asked. Tim didn't miss the nervous twitch to his voice, nor could he blame him. When Tim didn't respond though, Wally narrowed his eyes on the young detective. "Wait a minute. You're not gonna tell me that he's barricaded himself in his room again are you? Because if he has, I'll call Conner and he'll knock the damn door down."

Tim couldn't help but chuckle at the suggestion. "Not in his room. He's in Bruce's. He hasn't left his side since the day we got him back."

Wally's eyebrows practically shot up to his hairline. "For real?"

"Yeah. I don't understand it either." Tim said as he began to walk towards the grandfather clock that stood a few feet away from them. He slowly slid the clock to the side and opened up the entrance to the cave below. He turned back to Wally, who was currently giving him a questioning look. "Coming?"

"What are you-"

"Like I said," Tim interrupted. "Dick hasn't left Bruce's side once since we got back. He's probably still down there. You don't have to worry about Bruce either. He hasn't woken up yet."

Tim thought he might have imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw something akin to disappointment flash across Wally's face when he told him Bruce was still comatose. Had Wally actually wanted to talk to Bruce? What could those two possibly have to discuss?

Before Tim could press him on the matter, Wally started walking past him and made his way into the cave. Tim followed after him and they descended the stairs slowly. As was usually the case, Wally chose to break the peaceful silence as the continued their walk towards the medical bay. "How...how is he?" He sounded like he was afraid of the answer.

Tim was glad he was able to give an honest answer. "He's okay. Actually it's the best I've seen him since this whole thing started. He seems...happy."

Wally gave him a surprised look again, to which nodded in confirmation. "It's true. We haven't really talked much, but I caught him smiling a few times when he was watching over Bruce." Tim could understand the confusion though.

Tim had been unconscious for the entirety of the night that Dick came back to the manor. By the he woke up, Dick's personality had already made it's one-eighty turn. Considering it was Bruce's side he clung to rather than Alfred's, Tim had to assume that Bruce had said something to him that caused the sudden change. According to the Team, Bruce had been the one who convinced him not to kill the Judge, but that still didn't explain how Dick had miraculously forgiven him.

Tim allowed himself to ponder the many possibilities of what could have been said until they reached their destination. But what they found there surprised them both. Tim had expected a far more familiar sight. The same one he had walked in on the last two days in a row. Dick would be sitting down next to a heavily medicated Bruce, watching him like a hawk for the slightest change that might indicate he woke up.

But this scene was very different. It sent Tim's mind reeling.

Dick wasn't there. The only person present besides himself and Wally was a bedridden, but still very conscious Bruce Wayne.

Bruce was awake.

Awake...and staring right at him.

"...Tim..." Bruce said with a weakness Tim had never thought possible for such a strong man. His mentor reached out a hand towards him, as though saying 'You're here. I've missed you'.

Tim still hated Bruce. He did. He wasn't even going to look Bruce in the eye once he woke up. He had planned on leaving the manor the moment he heard the man was awake.

But...he just couldn't summon his anger at the moment.

Seeing Bruce in such a state caused Tim's heart to wrench. He wanted to act on impulse. He wanted to throw caution to the wind. He wanted his immediate response to be to leap unto Bruce's broken form in tears, shamelessly crying and saying that he forgave him and he loved him. It was exactly what Dick would have done.

But he wasn't Dick.

He was Tim Drake.

And he couldn't do this.

Not here.

Not now.

He turned around without a word, eliciting another pained cry from his father figure. "Tim!"

"I can't do this right now Bruce." Tim responded, still facing away from his guardian. "I'm not leaving the manor. And we will talk. But...I just can't right now."

Wally stood there like a statue as Tim walked away. He knew it wasn't his place to intervene. And he may have been best friends with one of them, but Wally would never fully understand the inner workings of the Bat-family.

Tim marched upstairs with his emotions still swirling. He had to imagine Dick felt something like this when he spoke to Bruce that night. He was truly at a loss. He didn't know whether to forgive Bruce or allow his resentment to grow. He didn't know if he was going to stay in the manor or move out the next day.

He only knew that he wasn't going to do it now.

Not today.

---

Wally

The speedster stood in silence as the youngest Bat exited the cave. Some part of him supposed it was for the best. The conflict between himself and Bruce was a private one.

Wally turned his head to look back at Bruce. Nearly every inch of his body was covered in a cast, bandage, or bruise. Wally actually winced when he raised his eyes to meet Bruce's, only to find a heavy discoloring on one of them. He and the Team had watched Dick smack him around in the Judge's mansion, but hadn't been able to witness whatever occurred inside her hidden room behind the bookshelf. The only thing Wally had to go off of to predict the events inside was the loud declaration of 'I HATE YOU' from Dick, and Bruce's broken form which stumbled out of the room not long after his son.

Some part of Wally had actually felt for Bruce when the older man poured his heart out in front of the Team. The Batman he had grown up knowing never would have allowed anyone to see him so vulnerable. He could finally see something that had been woefully lacking before then. Bruce really did love his son, no matter how much he might screw up.

But that didn't null their agreement.

"Well, you look like hell." Wally never would have been able to summon the courage to say something like that to Batman before this. But that was the fun part of occupying the moral high ground.

"So I've been told." Bruce responded. How was it possible to pull off his signature scowl on a face that was that badly damaged?

"When did you wake up?" Wally asked. Tim had already told him that Bruce was still out cold. Since he just bore witness to the boy's reaction and could clearly see that it was just as much a shock to him, Wally knew that this must have been a recent development.

"Last night." He said, keeping his answers brief.

After a moment or two had passed and Wally was satisfied that Bruce wasn't going to bother asking how he got in or why he was here, he proceeded.

"I've got a bone to pick with you." Wally said with something akin to frustration in his voice. "Dick is still in the manor. Why?"

The stoic mask slipped and gave way to a look of genuine confusion. "I don't understand."

Wally scoffed and crossed his arms as he glared down at Bruce. "How hard did he hit you? Did you already manage to forget already that you and I had an agreement?"

Understanding dawned on Bruce's features as he began to fully grasp what Wally was doing here. It was true. He had never quite meant to void their agreement about Wally taking Dick out of his care. But now there was one problem.

"I think that may be out of our hands now." Bruce explained quietly.

Wally gave him an incredulous look. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"When you and I made that agreement, you made what you wanted very clear and concise, and I agreed to your terms. There's only one problem with that. Neither of us thought about what Dick might want."

Wally made a move to speak, but found that he couldn't. Wally supposed that what Bruce said was true. He hadn't meant it as a way of taking the decision out of Dick's hands by any means. He just didn't want to see his friend get hurt, and wanted to make sure he could be with him for every step of the recovery.

But by the sounds of it, Dick had other plans. "Are you telling me that he told you, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted to keep living here?" Wally wanted to make sure that this wasn't some type of grand manipulation on Bruce's part. If Wally found out that he was twisting Dick's words to mislead him, there would be hell to pay.

Bruce nodded, and Wally caught the slightest of winces from the sudden movement. "Last night, after I woke up. After Alfred was satisfied that I was still stable, Dick came in. I should tell you that I fully meant to honor our agreement. But the moment I brought up living arrangements, Dick started in about how he wanted to stay in the manor for a while before he could even think of moving back to Bludhaven. I didn't tell him about our deal. I only asked him if he'd consider staying with you for the time being. He told me that he still had a lot to work out, and he wanted to stay home for the duration."

Home? Dick still thought of this place as his home? It baffled Wally to no end how that was even possible. Even Tim was only here on an as-needed basis. "Why in the world would he-"

"Because he forgave me." Bruce interrupted.

It took Wally a moment to fully appreciate the sentiment of what Bruce just said to him. Once it sunk in, he was tempted to call the man out as a liar. Was that even possible? Could such such a betrayal as the kind Bruce inflicted ever be forgiven?

Once Bruce caught Wally's expression and understood the disbelief he found there, he elaborated. "I won't deny that I'm relieved beyond words that he has. I didn't ask for it, and we both know I don't deserve it. But still, he forgave me."

Wally thought he knew his best friend. They had shared all their secrets with each other. They had been best pals. Brothers even. Wally could have sworn he knew the original Robin even better than Batman. But with something like this laid at his feet...

...perhaps Wally would never truly understand the inner working of Richard Grayson's mind.

Wally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't deny that he felt frustrated with Dick's decision, and he knew for a fact that it was only a matter of time before Bruce hurt him again.

But he also couldn't deny that he was impressed by Dick's ability to forgive and forget. That was who he was. It's who he always had been. He never clung to the past, and he never allowed conflicts with his friends to last. As soon as it looked like a bridge between people was burning, Dick was always there to mend it.

Wally sighed through his nose, keeping his eyes closed in a pinched look. "You could live a thousand lifetimes and put criminals away in each and ever one, and you still wouldn't come close to deserving that kid."

"I'm well aware of that." Bruce said genuinely. He had often questioned what he had done to deserve any of his sons, especially when he had been adamant in his earlier career that he would work alone. Perhaps they were the universe's way of filling the void left by his parents, for Bruce always knew that they had more of an impact on him than he ever had on them.

"So long as you know it, I can live with that." Wally said as he looked back up to Bruce with a tired gaze. "Make no mistake, I'm still going to do my best to convince him to leave. But if he really wants to stay here with you, that's his decision."

Bruce looked at him as though something had just occurred to him. "And...the rest of our deal?"

Wally raised a ginger brow. He knew full well that Bruce was referring to the stipulation that he not take in another protege, but had no idea why he would bring it up. "Don't tell me that another boy genius managed to figure out your identity and sneak into the cave?"

Bruce chuckled, and immediately regretted it as pain flared through his chest. He still managed to shake his head and answer Wally. "There's a teenage vigilante that appeared around the time Tim left. She calls herself Spoiler. (1) She's been lucky so far, but she's going to get herself killed without proper training."

Wally nodded slowly as Bruce explained. Even though he hadn't directly stated it, it was obvious that he meant he wanted to be the one to offer her that training. Bruce's argument was sound enough. If Wally was being honest with himself, he only said that thing about Bruce destroying childhoods to hurt him. If Bruce hadn't taken Dick in, he would have been a Talon long before this. The ginger was loath to admit it, but Batman had helped all his proteges, and he may be able to do the same for this Spoiler girl.

"You know what," Wally said after a while, hands raised in defeat. "If you're able to find more kids that are willing to put up with you, that's fine by me. Dick would want you to help this girl anyway." Upon mentioning his friend, Wally was reminded of his entire reason for coming to the mansion. "Why isn't he with you anyway? Tim told me you two have been attached at the hip."

Something close to guilt passed over Bruce's face and he looked away from the speedster. Wally felt dread grow in his gut, wondering how Bruce had screwed up this time.

"I wanted to go with him, but Leslie and Alfred have been unmovable on the subject." Bruce said as he made a nudge with his arms to show off the restraints that kept his arms strapped to the bedside. Wally hadn't noticed them before. "I begged him not to go alone, especially after all that's happened. Alfred drove him, but he insisted on going to the grounds alone. You have to go to him. Now. He needs you there."

"Woah woah woah." Wally said as he put his arms up to halt Bruce's speech. "What are you talking about? Where is he going?"

This time it was Bruce who gave Wally an incredulous look. Like the answer should be obvious. "Don't you know what day it is?"

"Friday?" Wally responded with a raised brow. He knew that wasn't the answer Bruce was looking for, but it was the first one that came to mind.

Bruce made a motion in his bed that told Wally if the older man hadn't been restrained, he would get up and knock him upside the head for his foolishness. "Check the date."

Wally was still confused but hesitantly pulled out his phone to comply. It took about half a second for him to get his answer. "April 1st." He said without thinking. But as soon as the words were said allowed, Wally felt horror dawn on him. Bile rose in his stomach, and a familiar image flashed in front of his eyes.

The flashback was of him and Dick, back when he was still Robin. It had been a bit less than a year since the Team was formed. The two of them were kneeling on the grass in the dead of night, Dick sobbing shamelessly into his chest, a row of gravestones standing still before them.

Wally looked back up at Bruce and they shared a look of urgency. The speedster nodded quickly, hoping Bruce would understand what he meant to do, before running out of the cave and out of the manor at break neck speeds.

Why? Why did this day have to come up now?! With everything else that was going on, couldn't Dick catch a break just once?!

His mind flooded with possibilities as he raced down the streets of Gotham, appearing as no more than a blur to those who saw him. Tim had told the Team about Dick's earlier attempt to kill himself. Being a Talon would obviously make that task much more difficult to achieve, but if anyone were ever simultaneously smart and dumb enough to find a way to cut off their own head, it would be Dick Grayson.

More horrifying though was that this would technically be his third attempt. The time after his return from the Court was in fact his second.

It happened one night after a particularly awful encounter with Scarecrow. He had punched Robin in the gut, and when the young boy had attempted to gasp for air he ended up getting his lungs filled with fear toxin. Robin had managed to run away while Batman subdued Scarecrow, and the League quickly scattered to find their lost bird. Wally could still remember the way the adrenaline shot through his system when he finally found the boy on a bridge near Gotham harbor, staring longingly into the waters below. He had knocked into Dick so quickly he had nearly pushed them both off the bridge. He spent the next few minutes waiting for Batman to show up with the antidote while Robin struggled in his grip, though Wally refused to let go. It remained the most terrifying moment of his life, listening to Robin as he screamed and screamed that he just wanted to be with his family.

After that Robin received mandatory counseling from Black Canary and wouldn't return to his role as Boy Wonder until Bruce was satisfied that he was stable. Even though the League knew logically that such a thing never would have happened without the fear toxin's prompting, they wanted to be safe rather than sorry when it came to their youngest hero's safety. Unbenounced to the League, Kid Flash had immediately dived into his psychology textbook to find out everything he could about suicide attempts. What to look for. How to prevent it. He was determined to make sure something like it had never happened again.

Wally had mentally berated himself once Tim told them about Dick's second attempt. He had been withdrawn, depressed, and no doubt suffering from PTSD. There might as well have been a neon sign.

And that only compounded the terror building in Wally's chest as he willed himself to go faster, running at speeds that Barry and Bart had never even dreamed of. Dick had withdrawn himself from the Team again. They hadn't heard from him in three days. And while it was possible that his forgiving of Bruce's conduct was simply a blessing that the billionaire didn't deserve, it may also have been Dick's attempt at making preparations. Wally's heart hammered like a war drum as he raced as fast as he possibly could towards Gotham Cemetery.

When he finally arrived, relief did not begin to describe the way Wally felt when he found a lone figure kneeling in front of the Grayson's graves. He panted relentlessly as he put his hands to his knees to balance himself, willing his racing heart to go back down to a normal pace. Once his breathing and heart rate were back under control, Wally was able to look up and further capture the scene before him.

Dick was wearing a black jacket with the hood pulled up. Most likely a precaution to keep someone from seeing the more unusual aspects of his appearance. He appeared to be in a comfortable position on his knees, almost like a form for meditation. It was unsettling how still he was. Not that he wished it, but Wally had been expected him to be shaking with tears at the very least. That was how he found him that night from his flashback.

"So much has changed since then." Wally thought sadly. He cautiously crept towards the figure in black, not wanting to startle him by announcing his presence. The sun was casting Wally's shadow towards the gravestones, so Dick must have noticed at some point that he was no longer by himself, even though he made no gesture of acknowledgement. Soon Wally was standing next to where Dick knelt, before promptly plopping down and positioning himself in a similar kneeling position.

Wally craned his neck enough to make out Dick's face beneath the hood. He was also wearing sunglasses, no doubt to cover up his yellow eyes. Wally had been right in his earlier assessment. His face was completely dry. He hadn't shed a tear. For some reason that concerned Wally far more than if he had found the boy in a crying bundle on the grass. His expression was neutral from what Wally could tell. It was hard to make out due to the glasses. Wally quickly turned in every direction to make sure no one else was around before he slowly reached towards Dick's face to remove them. Dick didn't move a muscle as he did so. Not even to acknowledge Wally's presence.

When Wally had pulled the glasses off, he could see yellow eyes downcast as they stared ahead at the grave directly before them. Wally felt a pang in his heart at the sight. Before he could stop himself he wrapped his arms around Dick in a hug the younger man didn't return. Dick was cold now, adding to the ever growing list of things that would never be the same.

After not getting any manner of response, Wally repositioned himself so that he still had his arm slung around Dick's shoulder, but could still look in front of them to see the graves.

The one directly before them was that of Mary Grayson. Dick had always made her out to be the most wonderful woman on Earth. To have a son like Dick, Wally had no doubt in his mind that it was true. She had been an acrobat all her own long before she met and eventually married into the Graysons. Wally knew what a terrible loss hers had been to Dick. While Bruce had stepped in and provided the role for father to a lesser degree, the hole left by his mother was one that had never and would never be filled.

Next to hers was John Grayson's. Dick's father. Oddly enough he had been made out to be the polar opposite of Bruce in the parenting sense. He had constantly dulled out affection without prompting, and had been the most free spirit in the world. Always ready to leave for the circus' next stop at a moments' notice, never laying down roots in any one location, eager to see what adventures came next. So much like what Dick in his Robin days. Mary Grayson may have given Robin his name, but it was John Grayson that had provided the soul of the Boy Wonder.

Wally turned to see the graves next to theirs. Immediately next to John Grayson's was Richard and Karla Grayson. Richard's, Dick's uncle's grave was not quite as old as the rest. He had been paralyzed by the event that orphaned Dick, and had died only two years ago. That wound was particularly fresh. Next to him, his wife Karla. According to Dick, they had been more like a second set of parents than an aunt and uncle. Wally understood that sentiment better than most, being especially close to his Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry. Wally couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose either of them. He would never completely understand how Dick was able to survive that tragedy. Wally was only glad that he did.

The final grave in the set was Dick's cousin, who was also named John. There was a small gap set next to the graves of John and Mary Grayson that separated them from Karla and Richard. That same gap existed between those two spouses and their child. Wally understood the system logically. It was meant to signify the union between husband and wife. But leaving John at the end of the row with that spacing just made it seem so...lonely. In the same sense that Karla and Richard had been like a second mother and father, John had been like Dick's older brother. He teased him about his small stature and ruffled his hair and rough housed with him. Dick never admitted it, but Wally knew that John's loss had been by far the worst. In his case Dick hadn't just lost a brother and cousin. He had lost a friend.

There was a beautiful bouquet of neatly arranged flowers in front of each grave for a total of five. But as Wally let his eyes wonder, he noticed that Dick was carrying a sixth bouquet in his hands. He knew better than to ask about it though. Dick needed a moment of silence to grieve in peace.

It took quite some time. Wally wasn't even sure how long. But eventually, the last Flying Grayson spoke. "Do you think..." He began hesitantly with his voice shaky. Dick swallowed and tried again. "Do you think they knew about me? About the Court? About what I would become?"

Wally tore his eyes off of the funeral taking place in the distance and looked at Dick in utter shock. "Of course not!" He said, much louder than he had intended. "Why would you say that?"

Dick looked at the gravestone in conflict, his hands gripping the bouquet a tad harder. "Back in the Court...Cobb kept saying...that it was my legacy. That he was a Talon, just like his grandfather...just like I would be." Dick explained with a shudder. "And Haly...he knew about it too. He was the one who arranged for the Court to come and get me before my family...before they..." Dick's voice began to crack and closed his eyes, bowing his head. "Did I ever even have a chance? Was I always going to be a monster?"

"Don't fucking say that!" Wally said, not caring that he was screaming anymore. Admittedly he could have reacted better, but he couldn't stand by and allow Dick to call himself that. It hurt too much.

Wally quickly wrapped his arms back around his oldest friend and gave him a tight squeeze. "You're not a monster." He said in a much softer tone. "And your family didn't know anything about the Court. I'm sure of it. They loved you."

"I thought Haly loved me too." Dick quivered as he leaned into the embrace. "But he-"

"He was never your family." Wally said assuredly. If ever there had been a time Dick needed comfort and affection, this was it. "You're not a monster. Your family weren't monsters. Your the bravest and strongest hero I know. The Owls are monsters. Not you."

That's when it finally came out. It was just a whimper at first, but soon it transformed into sobbing. Dick returned the hug in full force, gripping unto Wally as though if he let go he would sink into the graves below. The remaining bouquet of flowers that he had been holding lay forgotten on the ground. When Wally felt the front of his shirt begin to get wet, he cared not one iota.

Wally would never comprehend what an impact his words had on the ex-assassin. For far too long, he had allowed himself to believe Cobb's words. He believed that he was destined to become a Talon, and that there was no escaping his fate. Believed that he would become the tool of destruction the Court wanted him to be, whether he wanted to or not.

Believe that if there was one thing being a Talon taught him, it was that he was no hero.

"Your the bravest and strongest hero I know."

Wally's words echoed in his mind and comforted him.

For far too long, he had allowed himself to believe Cobb's words.

But now he allowed himself to believe his best friend's.

They stayed like that until Dick used up all the tears he had left. He gave some more dry sobs before he finally mastered control of his breathing again. His head was killing him by the time he was done, though his healing would do away with that discomfort any minute now. When he pulled his head off of his best friends shoulder, he could feel the damp spot that he had left behind on the fabric of the redhead's shirt.

"Sorry." Dick muttered as he scrubbed the tears from his face with one hand as the other went down to retrieve the spray of flowers he had nearly forgotten.

Wally gave him a soft, understanding smile. "Don't worry about it." He reassured. He gathered the younger man in his arms and helped get him to his feet, stabilizing him to make sure he wouldn't fall over. There had been a time, not so long ago, when this was the only time that Dick ever needed comfort. 364 Days out of the year Dick Grayson was the most cheerful person on Earth. The one that others could lean on in times of need. But on that last day he would allow himself to break down under the weight of everything he had endured.

Making sure Dick was okay on this day of all days was very important to Wally after what happened last time. The last time this date rolled around it had come just after the destruction of the cave and subsequent rescue of the Team from the Reach ship. Wally had unloaded on Nightwing the day the cave was destroyed, and they hadn't spoken since. Wally was just so angry with the risks Dick had been willing to take for the sake of the mission, and refused to let up on his oldest friend.

One week later, Wally had been in his first class of the day when his professor asked them to take out their notes. Wally had long since given into his habit of writing the date at the top of every page in his book so he could keep track of his notes. It was almost comical how similar that situation had been to the one he just had with Bruce. Wally took out his phone to check the date, and his heart stopped when he realized what day it was.

He had excused himself from class to go to the restroom, and promptly ran like a madman to Gotham. No matter how angry he was with his friend's choices, Dick should never have had to face that day alone. Especially with Bruce off world.

But it was too late. By the time he reached the cemetery, there was no one there. Not a soul. Only another row of elegantly laid flowers. Wally had run to Wayne Manor next, knowing it to be the next logical location. Alfred had answered the door, telling him that Robin and Nightwing had already left in an effort to find a new base of operations for the Team. Wally had gone back to his college feeling downtrodden by Alfred's clear disapproval of his forgetting such an important day. Wally simply decided that he would find another time to make things right with Dick.

Little did he know, that day wouldn't come for another full year.

Somehow, it felt so much longer than that though.

The invasion itself had ended back in June. After the invasion had ended, Dick spent a bit less than a month in Bludhaven after leaving the Team, during which only members of the Batfamily would talk to him. After that, he spent four and a half agonizing months with the Court of Owls, being twisted and manipulated into their Talon. Then he spent another two months recovering in the manor, which was brought to an abrupt halt when they found out his secret. Then another two months back in Bludhaven tracking down the Owls.

Dick had gone through so much in the span of one year. More than most people had to go through in a lifetime. Wally had meant what he said. Dick was incredible strong to have gone through it all. And even though his journey was less than ideal, and he had made numerous mistakes, he had come out the other side of it.

"Do you think..." Dick began again, his voice hoarse from crying. "...that they would still love me...if they could see what I was now? After everything I've done?"

Wally gave Dick a firm nod. Even though Dick was still looking at the headstones, he knew the boy could see Wally in the corner of his eye. "Of course they would. And I think they can see you now." The one good thing that came out of his short lived roll of Doctor Fate's host was meeting Kent Nelson, and knowing that the afterlife was very much a real place. And there wasn't a shred of doubt in Wally's being that the Flying Graysons were truly soaring through the skies right now, looking down on their youngest member with pride.

Now that an appropriate amount of time had passed, Wally's curiosity got the better of him and he pointed at the collection of flowers in Dick's hand. "Why the extra set?"

Dick looked down at the grouping in his palm and gave a small smile before turning to Wally. "Actually, I have one last person to visit while we're here. Will you come with me?"

"Of course." Wally answered, leaving the 'like you even needed to ask' unspoken.

Dick cast a sad look on the five graves a final time before walking away with a clear destination set in mind. Wally followed but could not deny his curiosity as to whom they were visiting. Dick had never been to a sixth grave the other times they had come together. Jason was buried in the Wayne's private grave site, so no one immediately came to mind.

It hadn't been a very far walk. Wally's only notice that they had arrived was a sudden stop in Dick's motion and his best friend kneeling down to place flowers in front of a lone grave before standing back up. Wally looked down at the name edged into the stone and bowed his head in a mixture of reverence and sadness.

Raymond McCreary. He knew the name for two reasons.

The first was stories Dick had told him of his best friends growing up; Raya Vestri and Raymond McCreary. The three of them had perfected a group performance that left crowds speechless. As Dick liked to put it, Raymond had been his childhood version of Wally. According to what he initially heard, Raymond died only a few days after the Graysons, adding to Dick's grief. The funeral Dick had attended took place in this very same spot. But as it turned out, Raymond wasn't even buried here. They hadn't known it at the time, but Raymond had been subjected to a much worse fate.

Wally found out the truth years later, just after Dick had left the manor to pursue the Owls. Wally had helped Tim go over all the files the Court kept on their Talons for some indication of where Dick might be hiding out. Wally could still remember the way Tim froze up when he found a file with that same name on it. Raymond McCreary.

As it turned out, Raymond had unofficially replaced Dick. After the young acrobat was taken in by Bruce and no longer within the Court's reach, they had chosen Raymond as their new Talon. His story was a tragic one. He had been subjected to all the ruthless torture and training as the other Talons got upon their arrival to the Court, but in the end the Owls realized that no matter how much work they put into him, he would never be as talented as Dick. They cast him out and left him in the woods to die. Tim had found a corresponding John Doe that had turned up in the woods. He was now buried in a simple numbered grave somewhere in New York.

Dick didn't need to say it out loud. Wally knew that he blamed himself for Raymond as well. It was clear in the way he was looking at the headstone. Wally's heart lurched as he gently put a hand on Dick's shoulder, feeling the smallest of flinches run through the acrobat's body as he did so. "Come on. Let's get you home." Wally said as he used his hold on the shoulder to turn Dick around, then gently usher him towards the entrance of the cemetery.

Luckily it hadn't been too bad a walk. Alfred had been waiting right outside the gates, standing next to the car. He didn't seem surprised to see Wally escort Dick out, nor did he comment on it. He only opened the backseat door and shut it after Wally loaded his friend inside and took the seat next to him. Alfred then got in the driver seat and the drove back to the manor in silence.

Wally kept his eyes on Dick, paranoia telling him that Dick would somehow slip out of the car the moment he took his eyes off the young Talon. Dick remained still the entire time and had his head positioned to look out the window, but he wasn't really looking at the scenery. Alfred kept looking at the two boys in the rear view mirror, but still wouldn't speak.

When they finally got to the manor, Alfred again wordlessly opened the car and then front door for them as Wally continued to help lead Dick inside. Once they were indoors, Dick shrugged off Wally's grip and made his way to his room, but didn't object to the speedster's following him.

Once they were in his bedroom, Dick immediately set himself down on his bed, Wally doing the same next to him. Once they were in their respective positions, Wally reached up to grip Dick's shoulder again. "You okay?"

He had expected silence, or perhaps another detached response. But to his shock and amazement, Dick instead reached a hand up and took Wally's into his own before turning and smiling at the speedster. And his smile was true. Not at all like the hollow, fake grins he had been trying to pass by his friends since his return. "I'll be okay. Thank you so much for coming Wally."

The redhead may have been stunned, but not so much so that he couldn't speak. "Of course. That's what a best pal's for."

Upon hearing his words though, the smile began to fade. Wally's mind began to scramble in an effort to figure out what he had done wrong before Dick spoke. "We're still best friends?" He asked with genuine confusion.

Wally quickly assured him as he gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?"

Dick turned away from him in what Wally knew must be shame. "I just thought that...after Artemis..."

Dick couldn't bring himself to finish. He felt like he had been doing everything wrong recently. First sending the blonde archer undercover during the invasion, and then nearly choking her out less than a week ago. He truly never meant to hurt her. Artemis was his friend just as much as Wally. But after all his mistakes, he didn't think Wally would ever want to speak to him again, let alone show up for the anniversary.

The ebony haired youth had expected his friend to start laying into him as soon as he brought up what he had done to the said friend's girlfriend, just as he had after the cave was destroyed. Imagine his surprise when a mischievous grin found its' way onto Wally's lips instead. "No worries man. The two of us actually worked it out."

Dick raised a brow. "What do you mean you worked it out?"

Wally's green eyes seemed to twinkle in amusement. "At some random time, you won't know when, she's gonna punch you. And you'll never know until it hits you." He teased, causing Dick to feel a blush rise on his pale cheeks. "Could be tomorrow. Could be a year from now. She only said that she's gonna give it to you when you least expect it. She also said, and I quote, 'I'm gonna aim for his pretty boy face when I do'."

Wally had been giggling madly the whole time. Now, after the full explanation had been aired, Wally dissolved into more laughter and fell back onto the bed, rolling from side to side.

Dick was completely caught off guard by the joviality in Wally. He had honestly thought their friendship was done for after everything he did. But even after all his mistakes, Wally was acting as though nothing had changed between them at all. And the strangest thing at all was that he didn't even have room to feel relief.

Because he was too overcome with joy.

Not long after Wally, Dick began to burst with a familiar cackle that hadn't been heard in years. It caused Wally's heart to warm as he fully took in his friends smile. Tim had been right. It was like Dick was his old self again. And suddenly, the smallest part of Wally forgave Bruce as well. He had no idea what transpired between father and son after he left the two alone. He just knew that he was grateful beyond words to Bruce for giving him his friend back.

"Oh God please no." Dick said grinning, only half joking. "I'll take a punch from Superboy before I'll take one from Artemis. Or you, since you hit like a girl. Please, have mercy." Dick said in mock drama as he folded his hands together in a begging posture.

Wally's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "I actually was going to tell her to take it easy on you before. Now I think I'll tell her about that 'hit like a girl' comment." Wally let out another laugh, throwing his head back. "She's gonna knock you into next year man!"

The two of them continued to laugh at their banter for a good amount of time. Eventually Dick was the first to get his laughter under control and he wiped up the tears of joy that had leaked from his eyes. He then stood up from his bed while Wally struggled and failed to stop laughing himself. "I'm going to check on Bruce. Do you want to come?"

That one statement caused Wally to sober up immediately. His laughter came to a sudden, grinding halt. He had nearly forgotten. He may have been grateful to Bruce for helping Dick, but that didn't negate his responsibility for being the one who broke him in the first place. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something..." Wally said coyly as he too stood up.

Dick raised a brow. "Sure Walls," He said as he leaned against the door. "What's up?"

"Well, I was just hoping that you would come to live with me for a while." He blurted out, earning a confused look from Dick, who knew full well that the apartment he shared with Artemis only had one bedroom. "Nonono, I mean like, at Barry's place. We've moved in for a while to help take care of the twins. It'll be great. My parents haven't seen you in forever, plus the twinsaregoingtoloveyouandBarrywouldn'tmind-"

"Whoa." Dick said easily, putting his hands up to gesture for Wally to slow down. Despite their years of friendship he still had trouble understanding Wally when he speed talked. Dick gave him an easy smile as he recalled all the times he had to do this when they were kids. "That's a really nice offer Wally, but I need to stay here while Bruce is recovering."

Dick didn't miss the way the ginger's eyes narrowed at the use of the Dark Knight's true name. "Come on Dick. I'm sure he'll be okay. He'll have Alfred with him. And we haven't hung out with each other in forever."

Dick gave Wally a questioning look. He supposed that his best friend sometimes forgot that he was a detective. He had seen the way the speedster tensed up upon his use of Bruce's name. And then there was the way he began to speed-talk towards the end of his offer, which meant he was anxious. He was fairly certain that his theory was correct, but had to ask Wally something like this directly. "Wally, do you not want me to see Bruce?"

Again, Dick didn't need the verbal confirmation. Wally's body language said it all. Still, he waited for Wally to respond appropriately before addressing him on the matter. "No. No I don't."

"Why?" Dick asked.

Wally couldn't decide if Dick was just too innocent or too ignorant to understand. He thought it should go without saying. Bruce had hurt him. Nearly sent him beyond the point of no return. Did such a question even warrant a proper response?

Whether it did or not, Wally still gave him one. "Do you really need to ask? What Bruce did to you..." Wally paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "...I just don't trust him with you. None of us do."

"Us?" Dick repeated, growing more concerned. "Who is 'us'?"

"Pretty much the entire Team, your own brother included." Wally explained. He caught a look on Dick's face that was something akin to betrayal though.

"That's why Tim's been acting so weird around Bruce..." Dick mumbled and trailed off. He had a thoughtful expression, like he wasn't sure how he should go about articulating the situation to Wally. That look of thought eventually melted away and was replaced with one of shock, as though something had occurred to him. "Bruce wanted me to stay with you too. Wally, did something happen between you two? Something I should know about?"

Wally looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, knowing that Dick would take his actions against Bruce the wrong way no matter how he phrased it. "Well...in exchange for for helping him I may have made him swear that he would give up custody of you..."

"Wally!" Dick yelled in exasperation, betrayal clear in his eyes.

"It's not like it sounds." Wally defended, putting his hands up. "I wasn't doing it to hurt you, I swear. I was just trying to help."

"By trying to get Bruce to force me out of my own home?" Dick scoffed.

"It's not like I was trying to have him kick you out on the streets. I wanted you to come live with either me or Roy when all of this was settled. I just didn't want you two in the same house anymore. Not after what he did to you. He doesn't deserve your forgiveness after what he did."

Dick shot him a look of annoyance. "That's for me to decide. Not you."

"Well, would you at least explain it to me?" Wally pleaded. "I mean, I've been wracking my brain trying to figure this out since Bruce told me you forgave him. I don't think I would be able to forgive Barry if he did something like that to me, and we're family."

Wally quickly realized that he made a mistake with his last few words after he caught Dick's shocked visage. He hadn't meant to undermine Dick's relationship with Bruce. He knew that even without an official adoption, he considered the man his father. He knew that to Dick's ears, it must have sounded like he was saying that he and Barry were family, whereas Dick and Bruce were not. And he knew that his words must have hurt his friend no matter how good the intent.

A stillness had just begun to set in between them before Dick answered his question, despite his earlier remark clearly having a hurtful effect. "Look, what Bruce did...it wasn't okay. I'm not saying it was. But I understand it. It's the whole reason that I never wanted any of you to know about what happened in the first place. But one mistake doesn't just erase everything the two of us have been through together."

Wally sighed, remaining firm in his point of view. "I get that. I know you still love him, and I get that he cares about you...in his own way. I just don't think that it's healthy to pretend that it never happened."

"I'm not going to pretend it never happened. I tried that before and we all know how that ended. And yeah, things between us won't ever be the same as they were before. I can accept that. But I think it's still worth salvaging."

Wally made a motion to speak, but Dick caught it and quickly cut him off.

"That whole time you were looking for me, you never gave up hope that, despite all I had done, I could still come out of it and be the same person you knew. It's the same with Bruce. I know he screwed up and I know he'll screw up again. But despite it all..." There was a pause, but this time Dick didn't look away and he didn't grow sad. In fact, there was a small lift to the corners of his lips as he finished his statement. "...he's still my dad."

Wally didn't know what to say. It would be an outright lie to say he still did not understand Dick's reasoning in forgiving his father. After all, wasn't that line of thinking the exact same one Wally had been using the last few months while he searched for his friend? Wally was still in no position to forgive Bruce by any means. But then, it wasn't his place to forgive. He had only directly wronged Dick and Tim, and Dick had chosen to forgive him.

Wally sighed. He supposed he would have to respect his friend's choice after all. He would still be making periodic visits to the manor to watch for the slightest hint of Bruce screwing up though.

But even with that acceptance of Dick's forgiveness in mind, he still had no clue what to do next. He had still blatantly hurt Dick with that remark about family, so he couldn't just leave it like that, but didn't know how to go about apologizing for it either. After all, Dick's joyous aura seemed to indicate that he had already let it go. Still, Wally supposed he should do something to lighten the unspoken tension his words had created.

As he went through a mental list of things he could say or do, he finally found one that seemed perfect. Immediately, a smile matching Dick's own appeared on his face. "Okay, I wasn't going to tell you about this 'til much later, but I really want to end things on a good note. So...brace yourself."

Dick gave him a questioning look as Wally began to fumble with something in his back pocket. In an instant it was pulled out, and Dick's heart stopped. It was a small, square, black box with softened edges. The box itself was just large enough to fit into the palm of someone's hand. Dick knew what it was immediately.

Before he even got the chance to ask, Wally snapped the box open and Dick's mouth went dry and his voice disappeared. It was a ring. A beautiful, large, silver engagement ring.

Oddly enough, the diamond was not the first thing that caught Dick's notice. It was the inscription written along the side in the most elegant writing Dick had ever seen. He could just make it out with his enhanced vision.

~Artemis, my heart belongs to you~

The ring was incredible. There was no doubt in Dick's mind that Wally had maxed out his student loans for something so spectacular. The band of the ring had to be especially wide to support the stone that rested on it, and Dick could clearly see several smaller gems set within said band. As for the diamond itself, it was enough to make any woman's heart melt. The inset, as well as the crystal itself, were square. Dick simply could not get over the size of it. Having grown up as the ward of a billionaire and being around several people that spent money carelessly, he knew his jewelry. And he knew that rock had to be at least four carats.

"Oh my God." Dick said under his breath as he turned his attention from the ring to Wally, who had a big goofy smile on his face. Slowly, Dick's awestruck appearance gave way to a matching wide grin. "Oh my God!" He yelled as he charged towards his best friend, capturing the red head in his arms, and pulling him into the strongest embrace he could. "Congratulations!"

Wally had to close his hand over the box to make sure it wouldn't fall as Dick hugged him. His enhanced strength was causing the boy to damn near lift him off the ground! It also made it hard to breathe. Wally had to pat his friend's back fiercely in an attempt to get him to notice, which he did almost right away.

"Sorry sorry." Dick said as he hurriedly put Wally back on his feat and let go of him, smile never leaving his face. "Oh my God! This is huge! Bruce has like this billion dollar bottle of scotch in the liquor cabinet! If ever there were a time to steal from-Wait! I'm your best man right?! I'd better be your best man, or we're going to have words Wally!"

Wally would have laughed at Dick's excitement if he wasn't so happy himself. It had been so long since he saw Dick get this childishly worked up over something so obvious. "Of course you are. I mean, you want to right?"

"YES!" Dick screeched, causing Wally to wince. Then Dick's smile gained the smallest bit of mischief to it. "Still though, that's the way you're going to ask me? 'I mean, you want to right'? Where's the passion? I thought we had something special here."

Wally caught the humor in Dick's voice instantly, and couldn't help but play along. He got down on one knee with a dramatic flourish and extended the opened ring box towards him. "Oh my darling Dick Grayson, would you please make me the happiest man alive by becoming my best man?"

Again, Dick laughed. An incredibly welcomed sound in the halls of Wayne Manor. "You're such a dork!" Dick cackled as he lightly punched Wally in the arm. "This is incredible! I can't believe it! This is so-"

Wally got concerned when Dick stopped mid-sentence, as though he had realized something. He became even more concerned when Dick's smile abruptly vanished from his face and his wide eyes suddenly narrowed on him in what looked like irritation. "Wally." He began, his tone setting the speedster further on edge. "Why is that ring not on Artemis' finger as we speak?"

Suddenly his face felt hot and his throat tightened. Wally coughed lightly into his fist and rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably.

"Wally?"

Wally looked at the ceiling. The floor. Anywhere but into Dick's eyes. The yellow still set him on edge. "Weeeeeeeell...I sort of didn't ask her yet."

Dick's eyes suddenly blazed with indignation. "Wally!"

The redhead quickly threw his arms up in surrender. "I know, I know. But so what if I haven't asked her just yet? I will."

"Not that, you idiot!" Dick shouted, crossing his arms. "You asked me to be your best man before you asked Artemis to be your wife?! You cannot do that!"

Wally felt like the ground had dropped out beneath him. He hadn't really thought about it like that. And when Dick put it like that...

...yeah. It did sound pretty idiotic.

Dick groaned as he ran a hand through his dark locks. "At least tell me you're going to ask her, like, later today."

Wally blushed furiously, his skin practically matching his hair in shade. "Well...I was actually planning on waiting for the right moment-"

He was cut off when Dick threw his arms up in exasperation. "Okay, no. Just...no." With that Dick promptly went for his laptop located on his bedside table and opened it up, furiously smashing his fingers on the keys for a few tense seconds without a word to Wally.

"Dick?" He asked. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry Walls, but desperate times call for desperate measures." Once Dick found the desired file, he turned his laptop around for Wally to see. The speedster in question gawked at the video on the computer.

It had been one of Dick's more outrageous pranks in his Robin days. Wally had been taking a shower in the cave after a sparring session with Kaldur. But once he got out, he practically shrieked to see his Kid Flash uniform was no longer there. In its' place was a cheerleader's uniform done up in pink and glitter. Wally had searched his room madly, but the uniform was the only clothing Robin had left behind. Deciding it was a better alternative to running around the cave completely naked, he had no choice but to reluctantly put it on before he went to strangle the life out of Batman's protege.

Chasing the cackling fourteen year old wearing that accursed uniform was without exception the most humiliating moment of his life, and he had no idea that Dick had kept a video of the event! He looked at the hacker with dread. "You've kept that all these years?!"

"And it's going to be sent out to the entire Team if you don't grow a pair and ask Artemis to marry you." Dick said with a satisfied grin.

"What?! How am I supposed to just spring this on her?!"

"Guys propose all the time. Just get down on one knee, admit you are the luckiest man alive, and ask. And you'd better do it quickly." Dick said as he suddenly tapped the cursor and a timer appeared above the video, showing it at one hour and counting. "It'll take you like ten minutes to get there. So start running. Use the other fifty minutes to plan how to ask, or to pop the champagne. But I'd better get a picture of that ring on her finger before this timer goes off or it'll go live."

"But I-"

"Fifty-nine and a half minutes." Dick said as he pointed again at the timer before he grinned and mockingly waved at the speedster as a means of saying goodbye.

Wally immediately turned around and dashed out the door, his mind going nearly as fast as his legs in an effort to figure out how to ask Artemis.

He knew he should be mad at Dick for essentially blackmailing him into proposing before he was ready. At the very least, he should have been planning a revenge prank to get back at him once this was over.

But as he heard Dick's cackle echoing behind him as he left the manor, Wally couldn't help but smile.

---

Dick

Dick was satisfied exactly half an hour later when Wally texted him a photo of Artemis with tears of joy in her eyes and holding her hand up high to show off a gorgeous ring. It was included in a group chat to inform the entire Team. M'gann already responded that this was amazing and she would be over asap to help plan. Dick couldn't deny that surge of pride he felt in himself for helping (forcing) Wally to take that step rather than allow him to continue procrastinating.

Dick's enhanced hearing picked up on the pitter patter of light footsteps inbound towards his room. He was pleasantly surprised when Tim came bursting through his door, an easy smile on his face.

"I just got the text. Wally proposed?!"

Dick nodded. "Yep! And before you even ask, I'm best man." Dick said proudly as he pointed a thumb to his chest.

Tim snorted indignantly as he walked over and seated himself at the foot of Dick's bed. "Of course you are."

Dick's smile remained firm but he tilted his head in confusion of how casual Tim was being. They had been pretty awkward around each other when they had met up before at Bruce's bedside. The only conversation they really had was two sentences long, wherein Dick apologized to him and Tim said that it was okay.

Dick was about to ask him about it when Tim's smile wilted and he looked at Dick with guilty eyes. "I'm really sorry. I can't believe I forgot what day it was."

That certainly explained the younger boys' insistence on coming into his room and trying to be casual. Dick didn't mind though. Given all that had happened recently, he had all but resigned to spending today by himself. The presence of Wally and Tim was more than he could dare hope for.

"It's okay Timmy." Dick assured gently.

Tim smiled sadly as he shook his head. "No, it's not. I've been so caught up in my own crap that I haven't bothered to pay attention to you, and that's not okay."

Dick felt guilt twinge in his chest. Tim was talking to him like he was the younger brother and Tim, the older. He had been a pour excuse for a brother since this whole mess started in fact, and that was without factoring in the numerous times he had been violent with Robin. First he had attacked him to maintain his cover with the Court, then again during his night terror, then he slapped the younger across the face during their fight, attacked him the following day when Dick thought that he had been the one to tell Bruce, and then one final time three nights ago in the Judge's mansion.

Between their multiple violent encounters, harsh words to each other, and overall neglect, Dick could only hope that their relationship could be salvaged.

Before he could even touch on such a subject though, Tim went first again. "There's something you need to know. I didn't say anything to Bruce. I swear it. He had a spy software on my gauntlet that I didn't know about. That was how he found the video. I never would have betrayed you like that." Tim pleaded.

Tim's words were meant as a reassurance, but it actually made Dick feel worse by far to know that he had attacked his brother that night for no reason at all. If nothing else, it was nice to know that Tim had kept his promise. "I'm sorry Tim."

Tim raised a brow like he truly had no idea what Dick had to be sorry for.

Dick was quick to elaborate. "You deserved exactly none of what I've put you through lately. I can't bear what you must think of me, but I'm sorry. You deserve a better brother than me."

Tim looked like he had just been punched in the gut after hearing Dick's words. "Don't ever say that! I forgave you for all of it a long time ago. You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Tim, I attacked you."

Tim's face fell and got a look on his face that Dick was very familiar with. He got it whenever he had a program or math problem that even his genius brain couldn't quite get the hang of. In this case, Dick was the program.

Tim let out a long sigh before answering. He wished that it didn't have to come to this. Dick's secrets were his own, and digging around in them was what caused this whole mess to start. But he needed Dick to know that none of this was on him.

"I saw the footage."

Dick gave him a questioning glance. "Well...duh. Everyone did."

"No, I mean I saw the whole footage. I was the one that dug around in the Court's security tapes and found the video of Zucco. But while I was looking around, before I found that...I saw...the others. I saw everything else they did before Zucco."

A pregnant silence hung in the air after Tim said his piece. Dick felt like his limbs had turned to lead, and his blood had stilled in his veins. It was somewhat similar to the feeling that had overcome him when the Team told him they knew about Zucco, but this was different.

Zucco's video had shown his shame.

Everything proceeding that had been nothing but pain.

He wasn't nearly as bothered by the violation as he had been with Zucco's tape. In fact, the first thought that came to mind was how awful it was that Tim had seen such violent imagery. Despite everything they saw on a regular basis simply by going out on patrol, Dick, ever the big brother, wouldn't even let Tim watch R rated movies.

He felt dissociated from the whole thing. Among ever atrocity, degradation, and violation that took place in that wretched maze, the one that had always been at the forefront of Dick's mind had not been what was done to him. It had always been what he himself had done.

But that didn't erase the actions of the Owls nor did it make them disappear. It was those very acts that lead him to hunt down the Judge in the first place. The pain and humiliation caused by them was still a part of him. He accepted that and he was willing to do what it took to move on.

He just wished that Tim hadn't gotten involved in that particular part of his recovery.

"I'm...I'm sorry all that happened to you." Tim said, breaking the silence. It was the best thing he could think of to drain out some of the tension that had filled the air.

"I really wish you hadn't seen that Timmy." Dick said, still concerned with the impact those images would have on Tim's forming mind.

"Yeah. I wish I hadn't either." Tim agreed. No matter how much he tried, nothing would ever erase those images from his brain. He would never forget Dick's desperate cries for someone to rescue him, the way the Owls laughed, the tearing of flesh from bone. Tim shook his head to clear himself of such thoughts. "But I still did. So if you ever want to talk about it-"

"I don't."

"But if you do, I'll be here for you." Tim said as his blue eyes locked with Dick's yellow ones. Another small amount of stillness went on between them before Tim spoke again. "You know I still love you, right?"

Dick's heart fluttered, felling that it no longer deserved such affection. "But Tim, I hurt you-"

"And I hurt you." Tim cut in. "If you really want to play the blame game, fine. If I hadn't dug around in what the Court did to you, I never would have found that video, Bruce never would have seen it, and the last two months never would have happened. Now we can spend all night arguing over which one of is more responsible, but I don't want that. I just want to start things over. We can do that, can't we?"

Dick couldn't stop the smile that came to him. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He reached forward and collected Tim in a strong hug. It seemed to startle the younger at first, but soon enough he leaned in and returned it. "I'd like that."

They stayed like that for a few moments, and Dick couldn't help but think about how blessed he was to be surrounded by friends and family like the ones he had. This was all he ever could have wanted and more.

First Bruce, then Wally, and now Tim.

Everything seemed to be falling back into place.

And it wasn't lost on Dick that this never would have been possible if he had killed the Judge of Owls.

He knew he would hate himself for ruining such a great moment, but there was something that had been weighing heavy on his mind since his talk with Wally.

"Tim." He began softly, chin still pressed to the top of his brother's hair. "What happened between you and Bruce?"

He felt the boy stiffen and try to pull back from the hug, which upset Dick. Still, he released his hold and allowed the boy to break free so they could look at each other.

"He didn't tell you?" Tim asked, his tone bordering on vexation.

"I wouldn't be asking if he did."

Tim crossed his arms and looked away with narrowed eyes and a small sigh. "When I found out he saw the video and he wanted to send you to Arkham, I begged him not to and to just see what else happened to you. But...he's Bruce. Once he's made up his mind about something..." Tim trailed off before starting again. "I practically got on my knees, but nothing worked. Finally, I told him that if he sent you away, he could consider himself childless. And even after I said that...even after I told him in no uncertain terms that he would lose me too if he did something like that...he went ahead and tried to do it anyway."

Tim turned his head, not willing to see Dick's reaction. Dick had always been willing to fight Bruce on Tim or Jason's behalf, and a part of Tim realized half way through his explanation that sharing this with Dick could very well tear apart his brother's new found connection with Bruce. A part of Tim felt remorse for that, fearing that it may damage Dick's recent euphoric state of mind. That said, an even larger part of him (and a much pettier part at that) was glad to put a dent in that bond. Bruce would only disappoint Dick in the end. Everyone knew it. It was better to remind Dick of who the man behind the mask really was rather then-

Tim stopped his inner tirade when he felt Dick's arms wrap around him from his side. "Timmy," He soothed as he used the palm of his hand to make small circles around Tim's back. "I'm so sorry he did that to you. That wasn't right."

Tim numbly leaned into the touch, his eyes cast downward. "How do you forgive him for everything he did to you. To us?"

Dick let out a long breath before answering. "Forgiveness has a lot more to do with me than it does with Bruce. And I don't want to become someone who lets hatred and resentment define who they are."

"I want to forgive Bruce, so that I never become Bruce." Dick left that last part unsaid. It was something that he needed to say solely for himself, and not even Tim would ever be able to pry that from him.

"But he hurt you." Tim hissed out. "I knew he was capable of really awful things. That's what lets him be Batman. But the reason I was able to work with him is because I always thought that no matter how cruel he might be to the rest of the world, he would never be that cruel to us. And then he does something like that to you? You?"

Dick hummed as he took in the full meaning of Tim's words. It was a popular rumor. That no matter how many Robins Bruce took in, Dick would always be his favorite. Dick himself never wanted such a position. He was never one for titles or holding some special place. He especially didn't want it because he couldn't help but think of how it would affect Tim to know that no matter what he did, he would always be in second place in Bruce's heart.

But Tim never seemed to mind it. Resentment wasn't the guiding for in his words. It wasn't even entirely concern for Dick, even though it was clearly the driving force.

What Tim really wanted to ask was; "If he can do something like that to his favorite, what is he capable of doing to the rest of us?"

It was a fair point, and Dick wasn't entirely sure he knew how to answer the unspoken question. Considering Tim couldn't bring himself to voice the concern, Dick thought it best not to address it directly at all. "I know it's really complicated and confusing Tim. And just because I've forgiven him it doesn't mean I've forgotten what he did. It's not an easy thing to do, and I don't blame you for not doing it. But trust me, you'll get there."

"What if I just don't want to forgive him?" Tim asked, keeping his firm glare on the wall.

Dick smiled softly. "I think you do. I know it's a lot to ask, but do you think you could maybe try? For me?"

Tim's glare softened. He wanted so badly to keep being mad at Bruce. It would be easy. Bruce was brash, tactless, and he certainly never coddled his proteges. Plus, Tim had become an independent hero now. Free from his mentor, just as Roy was free from Oliver. He could easily go the rest of his career without speaking to Bruce if that was what he wanted. And yet...

And yet there still some part of him that wanted Bruce's approval more than anything. Tim was a smart one. He knew from his extensive research in his psychology class that this was a result of his parent's utter lack of affection for him during his childhood. He had diagnosed that in himself a long time ago. But whether or not he was aware of the cause and whether or not it was healthy wasn't really the point.

It would make Dick happy if he did this. And a part of him would be happier for it as well in the long run.

For the millionth time that evening, a sigh escaped from one of the manor's residents. "I'll try." Tim said. Though not long after he spoke, his declaration was punctuated with a yawn.

Dick giggled. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I never sleep." Tim moaned as he gave into his exhaustion and let himself fall further into his brother's embrace.

Dick nodded and smirked. "I see. And how many cups of coffee have you been through today?"

"Nine?" Tim more asked than answered.

Dick shook his head, but his smile was still very much there. "No more of that. You are getting some sleep mister." Dick said as he repositioned himself so that he was hugging Tim from behind. Pretty soon, they were lying down on the bed together with Dick wrapped around Tim like a koala.

Tim yawned again, his caffeine high wearing off quickly. "But I need to finish my school work."

"I'll help you with it tomorrow morning. You should get some sleep now because I'm not going to let you go until I'm sure you're under." Dick said softly yet sternly.

"Okay. If you want." Tim said as his eyes began to flutter.

"I want." Dick replied. He allowed his mind to wonder to their conversation earlier as Tim began to drift off.

He had meant what he said. He had forgiven Bruce for his mistakes, just as everyone else seemed to for what he had done. Tim had been right. They could drive themselves insane going back and forth with who was ultimately responsible and who wasn't. But as Dick went over the long list of flaws and faults in all the people close to him, there was one in particular that he knew didn't deserve forgiveness. Someone who would never have it. Someone who still needed to pay.

"Cobb."

"Hmm?" Tim hummed, still awake but tired.

"Before you were talking about how either one of us could take the fall for what's been going on. For everything that all of us went through. But it's not you, or me, or even Bruce. It's Cobb. That's who we should blame."

Tim didn't respond. After some small amount of waiting, a light snoring disrupted the silence of the room. Dick carefully uncurled his arms from around the other boy, then gingerly maneuvered the blanket around his shoulders without disturbing him. Once he was satisfied, he looked down at Tim's sleeping form and smiled.

Dick then heard the ding of his phone go off and quietly made his way out of the room and into the hall. He didn't want to risk waking Tim. Once Dick looked at his phone and saw the text he got from Wally, he frowned in confusion. He had no idea why Wally would send such a message until he realized something with a combination of horror and amusement.

The video of Wally during that prank. Dick had forgotten to abort the timer. It must have been sent out.

Dick did his best to contain his laughter until he was out of earshot of the room, resulting in a small chortle. Once he was far enough away from his own bedroom, Dick allowed himself to break down in fits of laughter as he reread Wally's text.

GODDAMN YOU DICK GRAYSON!

Dick knew it would put him in even more hot water, but he had forgotten how fun it was to troll people. He continued to shake with laughter and glee as he typed out a response.

I wish you could see how hard I'm laughing.

Wally replied to him not a moment later. And even though it was a threat, Dick couldn't help but cackle harder at it.

I'M GOING TO END YOU GRAYSON! DON'T FORGET I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!

---

One week later

It was the dead of night when Dick decided to leave the manor.

He had already changed into his Talon uniform (which he kept discretely tucked away in a floorboard next to his bedside table) and formed a plan. All that was left was to sneak into the cave. However, that was more easily said than done.

Dick had managed to get out of his room and downstairs easily enough without arousing suspicion. Aside from Wally's visit the week prior, no one had come over. It was most likely a combination of wanting to give the Batfamily their privacy and excitement over Wally and Artemis' engagement. The family itself was a whole other can of worms.

Dick was saddened to find that despite Tim's promise to him, he had made no effort whatsoever to work things out with Bruce. He hadn't even visited him in the medical wing. Leslie had left a few days ago as well after Bruce became stable enough to walk around the manor, despite her protests that he remain on bed rest. As for Alfred, the elder managed to tolerate their collective antics for the most part.

Tonight was the perfect time to leave. Tim had gone a few more sleepless nights to catch up with his school work and Bruce pushed forward with his physical therapy to get back into cowl as soon as he could. In response, Alfred made took the initiative to spike their coffee with codeine. Both were out like lights before they knew what hit them.

Dick had just made it to the front of the grandfather clock, and was just about to push the hour hand into place when a voice from behind caught his attention.

"What do you think you are doing?"

He cast a sad smile as he turned to see Alfred glaring daggers at him. No doubt a result of his wearing the Talon uniform. With options, he wouldn't have. But the Court had destroyed the Nightwing suit he had been wearing when they took him. In lieu of stealing a uniform from Robin or Batman, this was all he has. "I was just-"

"Under no circumstance are you to leave this manor, Master Dick."

Well, there went his plan for escaping quietly while Bruce and Tim were out cold. Dick gave him a small smile with pleading eyes. "I have to Alfred. This won't be like last time. I'll be back before the sun is up. There's just something I need to do."

Alfred's glare on him lightened the smallest amount as he raised an eyebrow in questioning. "And what, pray tell, is this deed that cannot wait until tomorrow?"

"I have to make things right to an old friend." Dick said, praying that the simple sentence would capture everything he needed to explain.

Alfred's manner softened and he strode to the boy that had been under his care for so many years. He caught the teenagers' shoulder and gave him a knowing look, which Dick returned in kind. He was grateful beyond words that Alfred understood his meaning and why he had to do this.

"Your ultimatum of sunrise is not acceptable." Alfred chided lightly. If Dick was not mistaken, he could make out a small catch in the elders' voice. "You will return to this manor at midnight, or I will be forced to come fetch you myself."

Dick winced at the implications of that threat. He may have taken on Batman and Robin, but he was not foolish enough to invoke the wrath of Alfred. Still, the humorous side of him could not resist the chance to poke fun at the threat after being suppressed for so long. "Midnight? That's like three hours from now! What am I, Cinderella?"

"Would you prefer to make it eleven o'clock?" Alfred asked as he pulled back his arm.

Dick frowned, smart enough to know when he was beat. "No." He grumbled.

Alfred nodded as turned around and went to the stairs, most likely to go back to Bruce's bedside and make sure he was still asleep. "Best be on your way then. Do give Miss Gordon my regards."

Dick's smile returned as he turned back towards the cave's entrance. He did feel a small twinge of guilt for hiding the truth from Alfred though. He was going to visit his oldest friend, but he had another stop to make this night...

---

Barbara

Barbara Gordon continued to type code furiously into her laptop. She had managed to convince her father to go home and get some rest about an hour earlier. It hurt her to see him agonize over her paralysis, and she certainly couldn't do this with him sitting in her hospital room.

But pain wasn't really the key thing in her mind. In fact, it didn't register at all. She had long since recovered from the fact that Dick would not bother to see her (which in it's own way, was more traumatic than the actual shot that tore through her spine). She didn't feel pain at all. No pain, or grief, or depression whatsoever. No sir.

Because Barbara Gordon was angry.

She was angry at the Joker for taking Batgirl from her. She was angry at Dick for leaving her flowers and daring to think that was good enough. She was angry at Bruce for setting all of this in motion.

So she was doing what the Bats did best. She was taking it out on someone else.

Multiple someones actually. She couldn't come at criminals physically, but their computers were another matter. The fun thing about the twenty-first century was that when you looked through someone else's computer, it was like peering into their bedroom window. There was no telling what you were going to find. So far, she had taken down three underhanded businessmen, about five corrupt district attorneys (all from different counties), and sealed the deal on Lex Luthor's conviction by sending an anonymous email filled with incriminating documents to the authorities. The rest was done by sending the information she had to heroes around the world.

But it wasn't the same.

It would never be the same.

She would never again feel the wind rush through her hair as she swung from rooftop to rooftop. Never again fly through the air with grace that rivaled Nightwing's. Never be able to so much as get into a car without someone there to help her. And Barbara could not imagine anything worse than having to need someone's help for every little thing.

At least hacking was still hers. No one could take this away from her. No one could-

"Babs."

Not for the first time, Barbara wished she could jump up from her bed and strangle the person who dared to bother her. She had all but bitten the head off the last nurse that asked her if she needed anything. If someone else was going to make that same mistake, so be it. She closed her laptop with a smack as she made to look up at whoever was bugging her this time. "Okay, what the hell do-"

The words died in her throat as soon as she saw who it was.

She had heard through the grapevine that he was back. That only made her even more angry at him for not coming, though. For days, she had been prepared to tear this person's throat out the moment she saw him. She had actually formed a plan. An entire speech dedicated to telling him that he had completely betrayed her, and left her right when she needed him the most. That she didn't want him anywhere near her, and that she would be just fine on her own. That no amount of torment he endured justified what he had put her through by leaving, and that she had been there for him and he should have done the same.

But now that he was in front of her, she couldn't utter a single word of it. She just stared for a moment and briefly wondered if they had changed her pain medication and given her too much morphine by accident.

But something in her gut told her that this was true. This was Dick Grayson.

He was standing impossibly still at the foot of her bed. The fact that he was wearing his Talon uniform barely registered in her mind. His features were twisted into something that met part ways between fear and guilt. And it wasn't lost on her that he was staring at the protrusion of her legs under the blanket that was draped over the lower half of her body. He looked like he was ready for her to completely unload on him. Had he come a few days earlier, she very well may have.

They stayed in that frozen position for the longest time. Neither one knew what to do or what to say. What do you say to the friend that you abandoned for two months, despite an injury that nearly took her life? How do you speak to the friend that had been put through hell, was disowned by his father, and then went on a spree of violent crimes? The irony behind the silence was not lost on Barbara. Normally they could talk for hours and lose track of time with their conversations. But now, it was like a complete stranger had broken into her room.

When a single sound broke through the wall of silence, Dick nearly jumped out of his skin. He didn't even know what it was at first. But soon the sound came again, and then again. It soon became a constant, and he forced himself to look away from her legs once he recognized what it was. Crying. Babs was crying. She had her head down, and was furiously trying to wipe her face to keep him from seeing her in a moment of weakness, but it was still there.

He was by her side in an instant, taking her by the shoulders and her face to his chest just as Bruce had done for him. He knew full well that it wasn't his place, being the one that caused her to cry in the first place. But he needed to do something. This wasn't just another civilian who had been put through some terrible trauma that he could drop off at the nearest hospital. This was different. This was Babs.

"Yo...you bastard." She strained between sobs. He could feel her pushing against his chest in an effort to force him off. He refused to let go ever again though. Just as Bruce had said to him. Never again. "You jerk. You...you..."

Somehow, he managed to crack a small grin in the heat of the moment. "I think the word you're looking for is dick."

She made a noise that sounded like something caught between a whimper and a laugh. He held her tighter as he began to speak. "I'm so sorry Babs. I could put this on the Joker, or the Court, or me being a Talon, but none of that is true. You needed me and I chose not to come. For that I'm so sorry. There's no excuse for the way I've treated you. I was just afraid."

"Afraid?" She interrupted. This time she succeeded in breaking free from his chest, though his arms were still tightly looped around her shoulders. She looked up at him, eyes demanding an explanation, not from a place of anger but desperation. "Of what?"

"Of me." He answered. He knew it was a crude response, but it was the only one he could think of. "My entire time with the Court, they were completely driven towards erasing Dick Grayson. They wanted their Gray Son and nothing else. And after what happened with Bruce...I was just an idiot and I convinced myself that they succeeded. And I thought I only would hurt you if I couldn't be the Dick Grayson you remembered. But it wasn't my place to decide that. I should have come."

"Yeah. You should have." She said, looking away. She scrubbed her face to get the stray tears and refused to let anymore fall.

Dick sighed as he lowered himself down to the seat by her bed, shifting his hands so they were on her shoulders. "I'm so sorry Babs. I'm so so sorry. I'm completely disgusted with the way I've behaved lately. With the things I've done. But if you give me a chance, I swear I'll make things right. Please. I can't lose you too."

She gave him a look once he said 'too', knowing full well that he had meant Jason. Knowing Dick, he hadn't meant for that part to slip out. Ironically, that was what sealed the deal. Damn Dick Grayson. No matter how badly he screwed up, she could never stay mad at him. She let out a long breath and gave him a leveled look before raising a hand up to her shoulder and taking his hand in hers. "If you ever even think about leaving again, I will hunt you down." She said with a small smile finding its way onto her face when Dick chuckled in response.

"You know, Alfred said something similar earlier. I was on the fence there before, but now it's a lock. I'll take Batman and Robin any day. But Babs and Alfred? God help me."

The two of them were able to laugh genuinely for the first time in a long time. The silence set in again after that, but this time it was far more comfortable. Again, Barbara was the one to put a stop to it.

"Is this real then?" She asked. "You're back for good?"

He smiled genuinely at her. "I am. I promise." He looked her up and down again, and something crossed his face when he looked at her legs again. He cast his head down, not able to face her. "I'm so sorry."

Barbara frowned. She knew he wasn't talking about his absence anymore. He was sorry that this happened to her. While the thought was appreciated, she had to take a deep breath to reign in her emotions. She was sick of that word. 'Sorry'. 'I'm sorry this happened to you'. 'I'm sorry you were hurt'. It had been nice to hear at first, but at a certain point it almost felt like the people saying that were making fun of her.

"Don't be." She said. When he wouldn't look at her, she pressed further. "Really Dick. I'm fi-"

"No you're not." Dick said as he looked up at her. Now he was the one pleading. "Don't say you're fine. You're not. I know it's rich coming from me after what I've put you all through these last few months, but please just tell me the truth."

He was right. It was rich coming from him. They had to uncover an actual tape of what happened just to get him talking about it. She nearly called him out on that fact, but decided against it once she realized that it wouldn't accomplish anything.

And she hated to admit it, but he was right. She was putting him through exactly what he had done to the entire Team when they got him back from the Court. Despite what Batman claimed, sometimes it was for the best to come clean about how you were feeling. She took a deep breath before she could bring herself to speak.

"I'm not alright." Barbara admitted. "I'm not. I feel angry all the time. And sad. And hurt. I'm not going to walk again. I can't be a hero ever again. And I..." She sniffled despite herself. "I feel so weak. I can't stand that feeling. I worked my ass off to become Batgirl and stay on par in a Team full of metas. And now that's all just gone. Everything I did. Everything I could have done. It's...it's just..." She began to break down again despite her best attempts to keep her expression neutral.

Dick leaned forward and pulled her into another hug. "It's not fair." He agreed as she went back to drying her face. "It's not. It never will be. And I hate that this happened to you. But Babs...being Batgirl isn't what made you special. You're special because you make everything better. You made me better. I was just some orphaned ward of a billionaire that no one wanted anything to do with. You're the one who brought me out of my shell. You're not weak. You're my best friend. You're a hero. You're...Babs."

Something inside of her melted a bit at Dick's words. He wasn't exactly a poet when it came to these things, but his words comforted her nonetheless. Regardless, she couldn't resist the opportunity to mess with him. "Wow. You are a true wordsmith."

"Shut up." Dick said, gaining back some of his grin. He gave her a studying look for a moment, as though something occurred to him. "You know, I met someone like you a long time ago, back at the circus."

"Be careful where you go with this analogy." She said, only partially in humor.

He snorted and shook his head. "It was a fortune teller that my mom was friends with. People loved her. The All Seeing Oracle. She did palms, tarot, you name it. I really thought that she was magic or something when I was a kid. It wasn't until I was like thirteen that I figured out the truth."

"Don't tell me. She wasn't actually clairvoyant?" Barbara asked with a raised brow, wondering where he was taking this.

"She read facial expressions and body language. She was one of the best actually. She could have played poker and taken Vegas by storm, but she chose to help people instead. Whenever someone came to her, she would always tell them exactly what they needed to hear. That everything would be okay, or that it was time to go out and become the person they were meant to be. Stuff like that. It wasn't always true, but that wasn't the point. The point is that people came to see her fearing what their future would bring, and she sent them out into the world filled with hope for tomorrow."

"And I remind you of her?" Barbara asked in full interest. She was no fortune teller, and she certainly didn't go out of her way to make strangers feel better about themselves. She went out of her way to take the worst the world had to offer and laugh in its' face while kicking its' ass. She used to anyway.

"Of course you do." He said with a wide smile. "You read me. You saw that I was alone and you did something about it. I wouldn't have become friends with Wally, or Roy, or anyone else if it weren't for you. That's what you do Babs. That's what you've always done. And no one and nothing can take that away from you. Whether you're Babs, or Batgirl, or whatever you call yourself. You'll always be a hero."

Barbara just sat there in awe for a moment. She had never thought of it like that. No one had ever put it that way. Her dad might have, had he known she was Batgirl. Leave it to Dick Grayson to brighten up a situation like this. She was about to say as much when she noticed that he was no longer looking at her. He was staring at something else in the room with a concerned look. She didn't need to turn. She knew he was looking at the clock. And she also knew what that meant. And surprisingly, she didn't mind.

"You have to leave, don't you?" Barbara asked. The guilty look she got in response was all the answer she needed. "It's okay. Head back to the manor. Alfred's probably worried sick."

"Not yet." He said hurriedly as got up from his seat. "I can't go back to the manor yet. There's one last thing I need to do while I'm out. And I need to do it before my carriage turns into a pumpkin."

The redhead snickered and gave him a questioning look. He only shrugged. "Long story."

She waved him off as she looked down at her laptop. "Do what you need to do. I'm not going anywhere. And for the record, I expect you to bring chocolate the next time you-"

Her quip was cut short when she turned to face him and saw that he was no longer there. Barbara craned her neck but saw no sign of him anywhere in the room. Her window wasn't even open, and her door was still shut. Something about that brought a smile to her face.

"Some things never change."

With that thought, Barbara opened her computer back up and got to work. This time it wasn't in anger, but in determination. She was going to prove Dick right. She was going to change things for the better.

In the back of her mind though, she continued to replay the story Dick had told her about the fortuneteller he knew.

Oracle, huh?

She could work with that.

---

William Cobb stared up at the ceiling of his cell in a state of apathy. There was not much else to do.

His arm had been reattached before he had been locked up in the gateway to hell which was known to the public as Arkham Asylum. Apparently it would be considered 'cruel and unusual' to leave it severed. And yet, somehow his current living conditions did not meet such a standard.

The cell he had been placed in once belonged to Mr. Freeze, who had long since been transferred to Belle Reve. It was rather elegant in it's simplicity. There were no bars like a prison cell. Instead, there was a bulletproof plexiglass barrier that separated him from the rest of the world which made up one of the walls. The other three were solid steel, and one had a perpetually locked door used only to deliver food, despite the fact that he did not need nor want it. Above him were vents that pumped in dry, frigid air. The was some sense of irony to be found in that. This cell had those vents for the sake of making Freeze more comfortable while also ensuring that he could never leave this cell. In Cobb's case, it only served to impair his movements and make a for a torturous state of rest.

The cell itself was in the lower levels of Arkham. Underground in fact. The most dangerous of them were placed here in a state of solitary. There was never any medication. Never any therapy. Only staff coming by to make sure he was alive and on occasion, a few of them to strap him down and administer volt after volt of electricity. He never made a sound the entire time.

Cobb had resigned himself to spending as much time down here as he needed before he could find the opening required for his escape. He didn't care how long that might be. One year. One hundred. What was such sentiment to an immortal such as himself?

Cobb was finally pulled from his meditative state by the sound of glass crashing. He jolted in the mattress they laid out for him and looked up at the glass barrier just in time to see a knife thrown with deadly accuracy nail a camera on the wall outside his cell right in the lens.

Curious, Cobb dragged himself up off the makeshift bed, the cold constricting his movements like bindings, and walked up to the glass. He could just make out a figure approaching his cell in the darkness. Soon enough the newcomer was standing right before him, staring at him while stared back in mild surprise.

It was almost like staring into an old mirror to see another wearing that uniform. Usually, there was only one active Talon in the Court during times of peace. It was only during upheaval the likes of which they had faced when the Justice League attacked that they were all brought out of hibernation at once. And the Talons never truly interacted with one another. They only followed their orders with ironclad obedience. For that was the mark of a true Talon.

And even though the man before him was wearing the uniform, he was far from a true Talon.

Cobb smirked as he gestured for the man to raise his hood. "I know it's you under that mask Richard. Come now. I wish to gaze upon my great grandson's face."

Through oranges lenses, Cobb could make out eyes narrowed into a glare. Still, the Talon before him raised a clawed hand up and yanked off the hood without ceremony. Yellow clashed against yellow as the blood relatives stared each other down. If looks could kill, both would be dead.

Cobb's disgusting twist of muscle that others might mistake for a smile never left his face. "Someone will notice that camera you took out eventually. Whatever you came here for, you may as well get on with it."

Dick's posture and glare didn't change in the slightest. "In case you haven't noticed, Arkham doesn't have top-notch security guards. It'll be hours before anyone looks up at the monitors long enough to notice that one of the cameras is down." His tone came out like ice.

Cobb raised a single brow and allowed the smile to fall in favor of a probing look. "Then why have you come here? I'm always happy to receive family but-"

"I was going to kill you ya' know." Dick interrupted, causing Cobb to stop and raise a brow. "I'd been planning it for a while actually. I was going to sneak in here, lower the temperature in your room till you froze solid, and then give you a gentle tap and let you shatter on the floor like glass."

Cobb expression didn't change in the slightest. He didn't seem the least bit concerned in his descendant's plot to kill him. In fact, some part of him seemed to be pleased with the revelation. "And yet, here you are. You have your claws. Your weapons. If you hate me so much, then do as you will."

Dick scoffed when he realized what Cobb's game was. He actually wanted Dick to kill him. That way he would be free of the humiliation that came with his incarceration and make Dick take one last life. Dick knew that this would be different from the Labyrinth, and different from the Judge. Talons had always been the exception to Batman's rule. They were already dead in every way that counted. Bruce wouldn't even care if he killed him. He'd probably be just as happy about it as Dick would be.

But that was not the only thing that made this different from the Judge. When he had been in the Judge's mansion, surrounded by all the luxurious expenses which she was able to pay for using her blood money, all he wanted to do was tear her throat out.

But this was something else entirely. This was William Cobb. His own great-grandfather. In a way, that made it all worse. His own flesh and blood had done that to him.

It caused Dick to further engage Cobb, something he knew was a mistake.

"There's something I need to ask you, and I need you to answer honestly. I get that we're hardly close. We're barely family. Hell, I didn't even know you until three years ago. But I'm your direct descendant. I'm your flesh and blood." Dick said, voice cracking against his will. "How could you let all that happen to me? What the hell was going through your mind while they tormented me?"

Cobb's blank expression stayed firm, as though he truly didn't think there was anything abnormal about what he had done to his own family. "I was thinking about what an excellent Talon you would become."

Dick's eyes widened in exasperation and the air drained from his lungs in a slight whimper that made it past his defenses. He didn't know why he had expected anything less. But just to hear the viscous indifference in Cobb's voice made it all the more real. The most important thing Dick had learned from his time with Bruce was that family was not defined by blood. But that didn't take away the pain of knowing that his only blood relative in the world wanted to subject him to a fate worse than death.

Dick should have hated him. He truly should have. Hate had flowed through and overcome him like a poison when he had been in the presence of the Judge and Zucco. And Cobb had ruined his life just as much as they. He had even directly participated in his torture, while the Judge was a cold observer. If there were anyone Dick should be capable of hating more than the two of them, it would be Cobb.

But Cobb's situation was something else entirely. He was stripped of all titles, ranking, and respect. He had been sentenced to spend the rest of his days in a cell half the size of a bedroom. He had been unmasked to the world, and the Court had been exposed and destroyed. To a someone like Cobb, who considered himself a proud warrior, this was far worse than any fate Dick could inflict on him.

And even if that weren't the case, he still wouldn't be able to do away with his tormentor for the strangest of reasons. A reason that Dick couldn't explain, even to himself.

"You were wrong before. I don't hate you." Dick finally said. Cobb seemed just as shocked to hear those words as Dick was to say them. "Can you believe that? I used to hate you more than anything or anyone else. More than Zucco, more than the Judge. But now I look at you, and honestly William, I just pity you."

Shock quickly turned to rage and Cobb beat a fist against the glass, which did not so much as crack. Dick made no reaction whatsoever.

"You dare-"

"I do." Dick cut off, further infuriating the older Talon. "You don't get it, do you Cobb? It doesn't matter what the Court told you, or what you tell yourself. You're not special. You are the exact same caliber of criminal I've been putting in this asylum since I was nine years old. The only difference is the size of your ego. And I refuse to waste anymore time or anymore tears on what you put me through. I'm going to let it go."

Cobb's anger melted away and was replaced again by one of confusion. "Let go? You're stronger now because of the pain."

Dick snorted again at his ancestor. Even after all this time, Cobb still honestly thought he had been doing Dick a service by turning him into a Talon. "No Cobb. I'm stronger now because of who I am. Because of my friends and my family. You don't get to take credit for me. I'm the person I am because of my parents, and because of Bruce.

"The last few weeks I've been driving myself to clinical insanity trying to figure out why this all happened to me. Why it didn't happen to people like you. And now I've finally figured it out. I didn't become a hero so that I could live a long life, or be happy, or have a family. I became a hero so that everyone else could have those things. Even people like you who don't deserve it. Because that is the vow I made on the name my mother gave to me. And I'm not going to let you or anyone else take that away from me.

"You made me think I was a monster. So I am going to get through this, I am going to get past all the pain and agony and hatred you've inflicted on me, and I am going to spend the rest of my life proving you wrong."

Cobb's stood their listening the entire time, but Dick had a feeling that he only bothered to listen to every other word. But once he was done, Cobb cracked another disgusting smile. "You honestly believe that, don't you? You believe that it was I that turned you into a Talon."

"It's not what I believe. It's what I know. You're the one who brought the knife down. You're the one who injected me. You're the one who administered the spark." Dick shot back, but Cobb seemed unfazed.

"I won't deny that I took on the responsibility of turning you into one of us in the genetic sense. But electrum is not what makes a Talon what they are. A Talon is defined by their skill. Their loyalty. But most of all, by their destiny. Tell me, what drew you to the name Nightwing?"

His head spinning from the sudden change in topics, Dick stayed silent as Cobb answered for him.

"I know the origin of the name itself. I know you took it from Superman's legends. Nightwing and Flamebird. Order and Chaos. But why were you drawn to that particular myth? That particular word? 'Nightwing'. Wings of the Night. Tell me, what kind of animal flies on wings in the dead of night? Certainly robins do not. The name itself rejects your mother's legacy. A bat may, but you never wanted to be a bat. You have feared becoming like him more than anything else. So what else flies at night? Can you think of nothing else?" (2-3)

Dick gave him a hard look and leaned in so close that his nose almost touched the glass. "I'm not an Owl. I'm not a Talon. And I'm certainly not you. I'll never be anything like you."

"So you think you'll be different? You think you will be able to resist the Court? Don't you realize that we all thought that once? You may think yourself above the Court, but do not forget that you gave into them."

"This again?" Dick groaned in frustration. "The entire time I was with the Court, listening to you drone on about your victories and achievements was by far the worst form of torture I had to endure. I didn't come here tonight to listen to another one of your smug stories about the time you won. In case you haven't noticed, this is not one of those times."

Cobb shook his head and grinned. "I disagree." He then fixed his grandson with a predatory look in his yellow eyes. "You don't see it, do you? That darkness inside of you. That hatred. Now that it is a part of you it will only continue to grow and spread. Trust me, I know. You will become exactly what I intended, and along the way you will tear down that family you have fought so hard to protect." Cobb then pressed his forearm against the glass and leaned closer to his grandson, wicked smile growing larger as he did so. "You see, even from this cell I will still win. And it will be because of you."

For a moment, Dick glanced down to the hood he was gripping before he looked back up into Cobb's soulless golden orbs. Any other time, he wouldn't allow himself to be vexed by an adversary's taunts. It was a defense mechanism he had built up a long time ago. Enemies would try to get at you from every angle. Anything to through you off your game and shake you. But this one broke through his defenses and pierced his chest like an arrow. Dick's mind briefly flickered back to that night in the mansion, when he had beaten Bruce mercilessly and nearly killed the Judge. In this one case, Cobb's words got to him solely because even though they could not be more wrong, they were still incredibly close to being true.

If Dick had gone through with his revenge plan that night, he effectively would have been doing exactly what Cobb just said. His actions would have resonated throughout the League, and if the public ever found out what Nightwing had been up to the last few months, it would only be worse. Trust would have been broken. The public's faith in the League would have vanished. Dick had never thought about the full consequences that his actions would bare.

But in the end, he hadn't gone through with it. He never would. He wouldn't lose himself to anger and revenge. He wouldn't let Cobb win.

"You still don't understand Cobb." Richard said in a tired voice as he tightened his hold on the owl hood in his hand. "I came here tonight to kill you. And if I had gone through with it, then the world would be a better place for it. But then I would be just like you. So I'm going to leave you here forever. And you're going to disappear. Your legacy, your crimes, your name...all living memory of you is going to be left down here in the dark with you. It'll be like you never even existed."

Dick knew he had struck something in his ancestor when he saw a small tick in Cobb's features, only for it to correct itself at a moment's notice. Cobb's wicked smile never faded tough, even though the cold air of the room was torturous for him. "Go on then, grandson. Go on and pretend to be all the things that you are not. Brother. Son. Hero. It doesn't matter, because there is one simple truth that you can never escape. You are and always will be...a monster."

Dick didn't react, except to look down at the hood in his hands. Before he could give it a second thought, he loosened his grip and allowed the hood to slide down to the floor. "Maybe you're right," Dick said, turning back to Cobb. Their yellow eyes never broke contact, even as Dick brought up his boot and slammed it back down on the hood, crushing the orange lenses adorning it. "But I'm not your monster anymore."

The two stared each other down, like they were waiting for the other to make the first move. Eventually, Cobb was rewarded with the sight of Dick raising his glove to pull up a holographic keyboard and screen, which he immediately began to type on.

"What are you doing?"

Dick didn't bother to look up as he replied. "You said something to me once in the labyrinth. It was during my...what did you call it again? Reeducation? You told me that pain was an excellent teacher. That everything you did was meant to ingrain your lessons in my memory. I guess that's true to some extent. I'll never really be able to forget what happened. So if that's the case, I'll just have to make sure that what I've said here tonight is something you never forget. And what better way is there to ensure that then the way you taught me?"

Dick's words began to fade in at the end as the hiss of cold air entering the room suddenly got louder. Cobb turned back towards the vents to see even more cold mist seeping in than before. The temperature in the room was dropping rapidly.

He turned back to Dick with fury as he realized what was going on. His great grandson had hacked into their system!

"Like I said, I'm not going to kill you." Dick said as he finally looked back up at Cobb and put his arm down, causing the screen to fade. As he did so, a small triumphant smirk crossed his face. "But this won't be pleasant for you. Don't worry though. 'You'll be stronger because of the pain'." Dick said, parroting the Cobb's own words back at him. With one last glance, Dick turned on his heel and walked away from the cell.

"Goodbye William."

"I will escape from here! And I will find you!" Cobb seethed on the other end of the glass as he pounded against it in vain. Soon, he was no longer able to do that as the cold intensified and his limbs seized up. Cobb fell to his knees, but kept his glare on Richard's back firm as he fell. "I will kill you! I swear on my soul I will kill you! I swear it! You will never be rid of me! Nev-Hmph!"

Even though Dick had his back turned, he knew the abrupt cease in words was a result of the growing paralysis. Cobb wouldn't be able to move, but he would remain awake for all of it.

As Dick climbed out the window he came through and took back to swinging through Gotham to get back to the manor, his grin never faded.

---

Bruce

Bruce was beginning to regret his choice to ignore Leslie's advice (demands) for another week of bed rest. His chest ached with every breath he took, and he practically hobbled up from the medical wing to get into his study. The bruises around his face were beginning to heal, but as it stood he still looked like he lost a fight with a hurricane. It was worth it though. He would do it all again if it meant that Dick being home was the end result.

Bruce was currently sitting at a large ornate desk in his study. The window behind him was filling the otherwise unlit room with the morning sunlight. He was positioned as still as he could manage, trying not to further agitate his sensitive injuries. The chair was pulled as close to the desk as it would go so he wouldn't have to hunch his back. Both hands were folded together and his arms were laid out upon the large desk. In the corner of the oak furniture sat a lone newspaper that was neatly folded up to obscure the front page, but all of Bruce's attention was directed at the door in front of him.

He would deny from here to his grave that his foot was tapping beneath the desk with impatience. However, he was more than willing to admit how anxious he was about what was to come.

He had wanted to go straight up to Dick's bedroom to have this conversation, but when Alfred saw how he basically had to crawl up the stairs of the batcave, the butler put his foot down and dragged him into the study to sit down and rest. If nothing else, Bruce had managed to convince the Englishman to fetch Dick and bring him down to the study so that the two of them could at last have an overdue talk.

Bruce stayed in that position for only a few moments after Alfred left to go to Dick's room when a soft knock at the door startled Bruce out of said pose. "Come in."

Intellectually he knew that it was far too soon to be Dick knocking, but his mind jumped onto the possibility once he saw a head of black hair peek out through the crack in the door. His mouth went dry though when the body fully emerged to reveal Timothy Jackson Drake rather than Richard John Grayson.

"Hey Bruce." Tim said in an unsure voice. He seemed just as confused as to why he was there as Bruce was. Tim had actively avoided him ever since that initial encounter with Wally, where the young boy claimed that he simply wasn't going to deal with this. Something had clearly changed since he was now the one coming to Bruce instead of vice versa.

"Tim. I-" Bruce was cut off quickly. In hindsight, he had no idea what he would have said anyway.

"I won't be long. I overheard you asking Alfred to bring Dick down." Tim said hurriedly, as though this was something he wished to be done with as soon as he could. His impassive expression told a similar tale. "Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about this. I'm still upset with you, and what you did...if it were me, I would never forgive you. You're the luckiest man alive to have a son like Dick."

"But?" Bruce asked experimentally. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but it certainly sounded like Tim was leading up to something.

Tim sighed and looked down before bringing his gaze back up to meet Bruce's. Bruce wasn't sure, but he thought he saw something soften in his features.

"But, I want to help Dick get better as soon as I can. And if I let this grudge match fester much longer, it certainly wouldn't help him. It means a lot to him that we all stick together."

"And so...?" Bruce lead the conversation again after Tim gave another lengthy pause.

Tim narrowed his eyes in annoyance at Bruce's prompting, but spoke anyway. "And so...well I'm not going to forgive you right away like he did. I'm not that good a person. But...but I'm willing to give this another shot if you are."

Bruce allowed another bout of relief to flood his chest at Tim's words. He knew that the mere opportunity to repair things was more than he could ask for, but he was not one to shy away from a gift simply because he did not deserve it. "Of course I am."

"Good." Tim nodded readily, but still fixed Bruce with an unreadable but still obviously negative look. "Like I said, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Tim Drake will try to forgive Bruce Wayne. But Batman and Robin? That's over. I'm my own hero now, just like Dick is with Nightwing. I hope you can respect that."

Bruce had accepted a long time ago that Batman and Robin (or at least this Robin) were done for. Something had been lost between them, and that wouldn't come back no matter how many apologies were aired. He could live with that. In fact, a part of him was proud of Tim for breaking off and finding his own way. It was a sad sort of pride though. Like watching a child grow up and having to accept that they no longer need you. Tim may still be a minor, but he was already one of the best men Bruce had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

But as was mostly the case, Bruce couldn't quite articulate these feelings to his son. He simply nodded in confirmation, and hoped that Tim understood the full weight of the gesture.

It seemed he did not as he turned back towards the door and made a move to open it. "Thanks. That's...that's really all I wanted to say. I have to finish some makeup work for school and then-"

"I love you."

Tim's back straightened and the door handle remained still in his grip. He turned around slowly to find Bruce looking at him with an almost pleading look, like he wanted those three simple words to capture so much more than just the usual meaning.

And Bruce truly had meant to put so much into that one declaration. How proud he was of Tim for finding the strength to evolve into his own hero. How grateful he was for this new opportunity to be the father he should have been to his boys. How much he needed the two of them in his life to keep the ever present darkness that surrounded Gotham from creeping into his heart and taking over. But more than anything, he just wanted Tim to know that the most basic meaning of those words were true as well. He wanted his son to know just how much he loved him, and how he was more scared of losing him than anything else. That he had already lost one son, and that he could never lose another or it would be the death of him. That even though he had started out as a mere placeholder for Jason in his life, he loved Tim for who he was.

As for Tim, those three words had more meaning to him than Bruce ever could have imagined.

Because his entire life, he had never heard them before.

That was perhaps an exaggeration. Dick always told Tim that he loved him, and Cassie had as well after they reached that point in their relationship. The more accurate statement would be that he had never heard it spoken with parental love.

Janet and Jack Drake had done many good things in their life. They hosted fund raisers, they supported numerous charities, and their philanthropy helped save lives. But they had never loved their son. They were good people in their own way, (at least, that's what Tim thought) but they just hadn't loved him.

Tim had loved them, as pathetic as it was. He had even told them as much in an effort to prompt them to repeat it, but they never did. When he first arrived at Wayne Manor and eventually fell into the favor of Dick and Alfred, he had absorbed their affection greedily. And on the day that Dick first told him he loved him, he had shamelessly burst into tears. That had been the first time he heard the words spoken to him.

But Bruce was...Bruce. He was Batman! His approval was all Tim wanted for so long. Even more so than he wanted the love of his parents. The bond between Bats...it transcended mere relation through blood. It was so much stronger than that. You don't choose your blood family. But Bruce had most certainly chosen all of them.

A year ago, Tim would have broken down into tears and thrown himself at Bruce into a forceful hug if the man had simply said that he was proud of Tim. But love? Love?

While Tim's brain continued to short circuit at the prospect, Bruce caught the disbelieving expression on his face and immediately went in to reassure him. "It's true. I love you. I love Dick. And I wish more than anything I could tell Jason how much I love him. I've known how I felt about all of you for a long time, and I shouldn't have waited for a tragedy to use as an excuse to finally say it. But I promise you, I'll spend the rest of my life showing you how much you both mean to me."

Tim's eyes widened with revelation. "Does...does this have to do with those papers I found in your desk?" He asked breathlessly.

Bruce nodded, not minding that Tim had been through his study. He was glad in fact. He had been waiting for the right moment to tell the boys, and now he no longer had to worry about how Tim felt. Tim was trying his best to disguise his sheer joy behind the mask of shock, but it did little to hold up against Bruce's investigating eyes.

Tim's mind and heart were going a mile a minute. He well and truly had no idea what to do. He had only come in to inform Bruce of his intent to try and start things over, and he was only going to for Dick's sake. He wasn't even going to look Bruce in the eye. And now something like this...

...perhaps it wasn't too late for them after all.

The two vigilante's almost didn't notice the soft knock at the door. "Come in, Dick." Bruce said.

Dick opened the door just enough for him to slip in. He seemed surprised to see Tim there, but that took a backseat to concern when he saw the starstruck look Tim had. "Timmy? Is something wrong?"

Tim looked at Dick like he was only just noticing the former Talon's presence in the room. He blinked a few times and looked back at Bruce before answering Dick, his voice shaking. "No. There's nothing wrong." Tim then turned to the now opened door and maneuvered around his brother to exit the study. "We'll talk later. And Bruce?" Tim asked, looking back to him with a small smile on his lips. "I love you too."

With that the younger disappeared behind the door and the older looked to Bruce. "What did I just interrupt?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago." Bruce said as he gestured for Dick to sit down in the chair in front of the desk. The acrobat did so without a moment's hesitation, crossing his legs after he was rested on the chair. Bruce smiled at that. "You seem to be doing much better than when you first came back to the manor."

Dick smiled at him, which only bolstered Bruce's belief in his own words. "Yeah. It's...different than it was before."

That was all Dick could really say to describe the situation. Different. He couldn't really say he felt better about everyone knowing what happened to him. A part of him certainly felt relieved that he no longer had to keep secrets from those close to him, but he couldn't quite say that he felt better with everyone knowing what he had done to Zucco in detail. So in the end it was neither better nor worse. Just different.

There was certainly one thing that had made this a much more positive experience than his previous return. "Bruce...thank you...for what you said to me."

Bruce, ever the detective, did not need more words than that. He knew that Dick was talking about Bruce's admission of love. Though to be honest that knowledge only made that twinge of guilt further pool within his chest. He shouldn't have waited so long to tell the boys how much he cared about them. He never meant to be indifferent to their needs by any means, it was just that he had always gone for an unspoken relationship, just like the one he had with the JLA members. Some, like Clark and Diana, were more friend than colleague. In fact, they were most certainly his friends. His best friends on this Earth. They had always been like an aunt and uncle to his various Robins, and his proteges even called them such on occasion. But that was no excuse. It was one thing to never clearly define a friendship. It was another thing entirely to neglect your children's emotional needs.

"I wish I had known that telling you I love you would put you in such a good way." Bruce said honestly. "I would have done it at the start."

Dick smiled his trolling grin, alerting Bruce to the fact that a quip was coming. "Well I wish I had known all it took to get you to say it was nearly beating you to death, cause I would have gone after you ages ago." Dick said with a wide toothy grin.

Bruce sighed, even as the corners of his lips raised. He was glad that Dick was doing well enough to make puns, but he was upset that the boy was dismissing the sentiment for humor. "I'm serious Dick. I really do love you with all my heart. I should have said it years ago, and I'm so sorry that I didn't."

Those words caused Dick to sober up and look at Bruce thoughtfully with furrowed brows. "Bruce, you don't have to-"

"Yes I do." Bruce interrupted. "I've known how I felt about you for a very long time Dick, and I shouldn't have sat on it the way I did. I was worried you might think I was trying to replace your father, and that's the last thing I wanted to do."

"Bruce, you could never replace my father."

That statement, no matter how true, caused Bruce to cringe slightly. Dick was quick to rectify his statement when he saw his guardian's response.

"I mean, I'll never stop loving my dad. But it's just like how Tim will never replace Jason. I love them both equally as my brothers, and I love them for who they are. You're never going to replace my genetic father, because you're also my dad in your own right."

That simple explanation caused the pain in Bruce's heart to subside with warmth. Something about it was just so elegant in its' tenderness, and Bruce was glad for it. The warmth in Bruce's heart only grew with Dick's next words.

Dick looked down to his feet, as though he were to embarrassed or ashamed to look at Bruce directly. "I'm sorry about what I said that night. In the mansion, I mean. It wasn't true. I don't know why I said it. I don't blame you for what happened in the Court. I don't hate you. I love you too. I really do."

Bruce took solace in those words. He knew logically that Dick's declaration of hatred had probably been uttered in the heat of the moment and carried no real truth to it, but it was nice to confirm it regardless.

"So..." Dick began as he turned to Bruce again. "What did you want to talk about?"

Bruce's manner changed to something more serious and in no small part upset. He reached for the newspaper on the corner of his desk. "There were a few things I wanted to discuss with you." He said as he unfolded the paper and turned it in his hands so Dick could see the front page. "This is the first."

Dick clenched his teeth and gripped the arms of the chair harder as he read the headline.

~Unnamed Arkham prisoner frozen in mysteries cryogenics accident! Police suspect fowl play.~

Vultures. In the back of Dick's mind he had to wonder how they were able to run the story so fast considering it had all happened last night. Did these people never sleep?

His thoughts were cut short as Bruce lowered the paper and fixed Dick with an unfamiliar look. Dick couldn't quite place what it was that he saw there, but he could clearly see that there was no judgement there. Dick sighed. Might as well get it out in the open.

"It was me."

He waited for Bruce to begin looking at him with an air of disappointment, but it never came. Instead he only nodded and said, "May I asked what took place?"

Dick was surprised, but not ungrateful for the lack of disenchantment. "I went to see Cobb in his cell last night. We talked. We had what, in his twisted mind, probably passes for a normal conversation."

"Why did you go there?" Bruce pressed.

Dick shrugged. "I don't really know. I guess...I just wanted to tell him off. Tell him to his face that I would never be the Talon he wanted me to be." He would tell Bruce the truth one day. He would tell him that he went there that night meaning to kill Cobb. But not right now. Not when those wounds were still so fresh.

"What did he say to you?"

Dick scoffed. "Nothing worth repeating."

"And how did this," Bruce asked, pressing his index finger down on the picture of Cobb's frozen body. "become the end result?"

Dick crossed his arms and shrugged again. "He...look I'm not going to bother you with the things he said. But you can't possibly argue that he didn't deserve it."

"And I won't." Bruce affirmed. He then took the paper and tossed it into the waste basket beside his desk. "You hacked the coolant system?"

"I hacked the coolant system." Dick admitted with a shadow grin stretching across his face. (4)

Bruce looked over Dick thoughtfully. He could hardly blame Dick for his actions. Cobb had done far worse to him, and yet again, Dick showed restraint when he could have taken revenge. And being a Talon, and therefore essentially dead, Dick wouldn't have been violating his rule by exacting vengeance on Cobb. Even so, Bruce was glad he hadn't. Dick wasn't that type of person. Not yet anyway.

If what Bruce had learned about the physiology of Talons was correct, it would take Cobb months to thaw out. Maybe even a year given the conditions at Arkham.

But Bruce could not care less about William Cobb. He still needed to speak to Dick. And what he had to say next would most assuredly trample on his son's good mode.

Bruce gave him a long stare before he found the strength to begin. "There's something else Dick. It's about what happened between you and Zucco."

Dick froze, and Bruce could see his crossed arms quickly tighten around his torso as though in a protective stance. He slowly turned his eyes towards Bruce, the normally predatory glow of their yellow irises only emanating fear and vulnerability.

Bruce sighed, knowing full well that what he was about to say may very well make it worse. "I don't mean to hold you responsible for that. It wasn't your fault Dick. But there are certain circumstances surrounding it that need to be addressed."

Dick raised his legs up to the chair so that his knees were pressed against his arms, further curling in on himself. "Like...like what?"

Bruce had to fight tooth and nail to get past the lump in his throat in order to answer. "The League's knowledge of it, for one."

Dick choked and suddenly felt nauseous, just as he had when the Team told him they knew what he had done. His veins flooded with ice, and the world was sent spinning. Bruce quickly went in to reassure him.

"They don't know Dick! I swear, I won't tell them if that's what you want!" Bruce said in an effort to calm the boy down. It was only partially a lie on his part. Quite frankly, he would have avoided this whole thing entirely if it were an option. But Dick deserved to know what his place with the League was.

Dick had to breathe deeply a few times until the feeling of his stomach twisting inside him went down. But the feeling of unease was still very much there, and it wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Dick looked at Bruce, eyes pleading for reassurance. "They really don't know?"

Bruce wished desperately he could reassure the boy. For not the first time, he considered lying outright and saying that not a soul beyond he and the original members of the Team knew the truth, but there had been enough secrets between them. Bruce had to brace himself for what was to come before responding, "Many of them do not. But...Clark and Diana. We told them not long after you left."

The feelings of nausea returned with a vengeance. It felt like his innards were doing twists and turns within him, and the whole world began to tilt on its' axis. He lost his sense of balance, and suddenly found himself on the floor beside the chair. Dick couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard Bruce get up from his chair and scream, asking if he was okay. He could barley hear a thing as blood began to pound in his ears.

Stomach acid shot up his throat like a geyser. Dick placed a hand over his mouth and acted on reflex, somehow managing to get to his feet and dive towards the bathroom. He barely made it in before he dropped to his knees and heaved out a single long breath before vomiting into the toilet. He hadn't eaten in two months, so it was entirely bile. He continued to unload his stomach contents for several minutes until his throat was dry. He gagged fiercely in defiance, but there was nothing left to give.

Now that it was over, Dick realized he could feel a hand on his back. Someone trying to comfort him. He knew it was Bruce, but it didn't help him at all.

The stench in the room left by his stomach acid caused him to gag more as images flashed through his mind like broken projector. He could see Zucco. See what he had done to the man. See his insides spilling out as Dick sliced through layers of fat with his claws. And when he thought hard enough, he could distinctly remember licking the blood off his claws-

Suddenly he was retching up into the toilet again. But instead of bile, it was a thick, black, oil-like substance that exited his mouth. Electrum. The only thing his body had left to give. Besides tears, which started not long after.

Dick's wails came hard as he continued to throw up, Bruce's presence doing nothing to comfort him. Oh God. Clark and Diana. Of all the people to see him like that. They were like his aunt and uncle. And they had seen-

Just approaching the thought caused the vomiting to increase.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed in that position. Dick, becoming physically ill at the mere thought of what he had done. Bruce, trying and failing at comforting his son. But eventually the hurling subsided, and the tears came fiercer now that there was nothing to drown them out. As he broke down, Bruce worked past his injures and gathered Dick up in his arms, taking note of how much lighter he was, and carried him back into the study. Rather than go back to the desk and chair, he set Dick down on the couch and took a spot next to him. He watched as Dick curled up on himself again, and placed a hand on his shoulder in another effort to comfort him.

Dick continued to cry relentlessly until a few words managed to break through the sobs. "Th-th-they s-s-saw. Th-they saw." He wept.

Bruce shook his head and gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze. "No, they didn't. We destroyed the footage Dick. No one is ever going to see it again. Everything Clark and Diana know is by word of mouth. And they're heartbroken that we didn't protect you, but they could never blame you for what happened. They love you kiddo."

Realistically, it had not been so tame. Tim and the Team had informed Clark and Diana without his knowledge, both of what Dick had done and of Bruce's own transgressions. He hadn't seen their initial reactions, but Diana had been ready to rip his throat out by the time he made it up to the Watchtower that day, and Clark hadn't been far behind her. He remained on shaky ground with them, and wasn't sure how he would go about mending those bonds. But that was for later.

Dick seemed to loosen up somewhat upon hearing that they had not witnessed what he had done, and though his tears came to a halt, his shaking didn't let up. That's when Bruce realized that it wasn't just guilt, but also fear of discovery that was causing Dick to react this way. He swept an arm around Dick and pulled him close to his chest, ignoring the sting that came from applying pressure to his ribs. Given time, he felt Dick begin to cease his quaking and calm down. He allowed another beat of peace before he did something he knew would erode it once again.

"No one else knows." Bruce reaffirmed. "No one. But I want you to talk to Dinah about it."

The moment he felt Dick cringe away from him and attempt to pull away from the embrace, Bruce strengthened his hold and went on.

"She won't tell anyone. You know that. And she won't blame you or judge you. But I need you to talk to her if we're ever going to work through this."

Dick seemed to cool off after his explanation, though he shook his head in defiance which elicited a small moan from the Dark Knight. He would revisit this later, after Dick had a proper amount of time to settle with the information he had just laid before him. Unfortunately, the rest of their conversation would not be able to wait.

"There's more." Bruce began. "Nothing bad, I swear. But I want you to promise that you'll listen to me and hear me out on everything before you let yourself react."

More silence, then a small ruffle of hair against the front of his shirt that he knew must have been Dick nodding yes. Accepting that was the closest thing he would get to a verbal confirmation, Bruce proceeded.

"While you were gone, I made a lot of arrangements regarding any legal matters that may arise from what happened in the Court. I put together evidence of what was done to you, as well as what happened to Zucco and the others. The tape was never involved, I swear. I was, however, able to put together a small legal proceeding that would normally be handled in a criminal court. It was the equivalent of a trial in absentia for heroes. The name Nightwing was never used though. You were listed as John Doe. Barbara's degree in criminal law certainly came in handy. She represented you as defense council. There was no jury involved. It was a bench trial. The only people who knew about it were those who had to be informed; a trusted judge, Barbara, Commissioner Gordon, and opposing counsel. You were pleaded not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect and evidence of what happened to you was presented to the judge. The prosecution did not oppose. You were found not guilty of all charges because of the extenuating circumstances regarding what happened to you. You're free of that now Dick. It can never come back to hurt you. And I want you to know that I didn't do any of this in some contrived effort to preserve my rule on killing. I only wanted to make sure you stayed safe from this. And if your acquittal had been anything less than certain, I never would have allowed it to see the light of day."

Dick hung off every word Bruce said until he was finally finished, and another beat of silence passed over the room. Dick didn't really know what to make of it all. He was grateful to Bruce. He knew that much. He appreciated the sentiment of trying to tell him that even in the eyes of the court system, he had been cleared of all wrong doing. But it still just wasn't right. If the law said that what he had done was not a crime, then what the hell was it? It sure as hell didn't feel justifiable. And no matter what they had said about him, he could guarantee that they wouldn't be as understanding if they had seen the tape. And no matter what anyone told him about how they understood and forgave him, Dick would never be able to forgive himself. Not fully anyway.

"You should also know that Jack Haly has been taken into custody for his part in sending Talons to the Court. He plead guilty, and he'll be in prison for a very long time. You should know...he wanted to apologize to you. I know it doesn't mean much at this point, but I believe he truly meant it."

For some reason, Dick couldn't bring himself to care. Haly's apologies wouldn't undo what happened to him, or to his friend Raymond. His conviction wouldn't do anything either. In all honesty, Dick could have gone the rest of his life without hearing the name Jack Haly and died a happy man.

He stared ahead blankly, eyes unfocused on the wall even as Bruce shook him slightly to see if he was still awake. This wasn't the same unyielding sort of numbness he felt after he had beaten Bruce, but he still felt a lull inside of him that he wasn't ready to abandon yet when he knew that despair was what awaited him. But Bruce puts a stop to that with what he says next.

"There's one last thing." He said, and based on nothing more than his tone, Dick can tell Bruce wants to say it even less Dick would want to hear it. "I need to know what happened in the Labyrinth."

The wall of lull stayed firm and kept Dick from grasping his full meaning. "You already do know." He responded dully.

Bruce shook his head. "No. I know what happened between you and Zucco. I need to know what happened before that. I need to know what happened to you."

Dick froze like a deer in headlights. Suddenly he could feel the phantom pains of electric shocks on his body, and a cold feeling creep up his spine. Before he would allow anymore sensations from the Court's torture crawl across his skin, he shot up from his seat and whipped around to look at Bruce, who met his balked look with one of astonishment due to the sudden movement.

Dick was unsuccessful in keeping the tremor out of his voice as he asked, "Why would you want me to relive that?"

Bruce raised his hands in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "I only want to help you."

"Help me?" Dick repeated in disbelief. "Those were the worst days of my entire life. Everyday they made me think I was going to die. I was terrified, and I thought I would never see the people I loved ever again. You want me to go through that again-"

"Dick-" Bruce cut in before Dick went on regardless.

"-and you say it's to help me?"

Bruce's eyes softened at the rhetorical question and he made a motion to stand up, but Dick took steps back as he walked forward. Bruce sighs and scrubs a hand across his face as he goes back to the couch and sits back down, with Dick standing beside the couch opposite to him. "Believe me, I would never ask this if it weren't necessary. But I let this go for two whole months. I don't know how I can help you if you refuse to tell me what happened to you,and I want more than anything to help you Dick." He pleaded. "Please. I need to know what happened. I don't want you to suffer in silence anymore. We'll stop the moment you feel uncomfortable, and nothing you say will ever have to leave this room."

Dick seemed to study him, as though searching for confirmation that was Bruce was saying could be believed. Whatever he found, it must have worked. Dick slowly bowed his legs and allowed himself to sit on the couch before bringing them up to his chest and hugging his arms over them. This time it wasn't to curl in on himself. It was to guard him. Protect him from the outside world.

More silence. And then Dick finally spoke. When he did, a torrent of worry passed through Bruce.

"From stone to clay to perfection." Dick said, as though that configuration of words should have made sense by itself.

"What?" Bruce asked.

Dick took a long breath to prepare himself for the explanation to follow.

"It was their motto for making Talons what they are. The same way you make a statue. You start by getting the clay. Clay comes from minerals in the earth that have been worn down by water, and turned into a malleable substance. After that, you could mold it into whatever shape you wanted. That was the common scheme anyway.

"They started by wearing me down. The same way water carves through stone and eventually turns it into clay. I already told you and the Team how they started by making me fight Talons, but that didn't last long. After that, I was left alone. Completely alone in that huge Labyrinth. It was easy at first. I would try to mark every passage I took so I would know when I started to go in circles. But I had to sleep. And whenever I woke up, my marks were gone. It got harder after that. I tried to climb up the walls, but there some kind of electrified fence at the top. I nearly died trying to get up there. I didn't see any other option so I just kept looking for a way out through the maze. But after a while, it got harder to maintain my hope.

"They had these rooms in the maze filled with pictures of their victims. The ones that didn't die right away. The ones they took back to the Labyrinth to torment. (5) Each row showed one person, from one day to the next. Over time, you could see their minds were starting to wear away. They began to lose weight, and their hair turned white from fear. By the final photo, they weren't scared of dying anymore. They wanted it. Wanted to finally be free from the Court. I understood that. But I was different. I wasn't supposed to die. They had something worse planned for me.

"After stumbling around for a few more days, I found another room. It was a lot like the one I just described. It had a single camera in it and lots of photos. But these weren't the Courts victims. I mean...they were. Just not the ones they murdered. These all showed the Talons. How they started out as normal kids. But from photo to photo, you could see them becoming these...less than human things. They stopped smiling. The life was drained from their eyes. And on the final photo of each row, it showed them with yellow eyes and black veins. I even found Cobb's photo among them. Jesus Christ Bruce. In the beginning...he looked just like my dad. He looked like me. And that wasn't even the scariest part. There was one row that wasn't finished. My row. I have no idea how they got those pictures without me noticing, but they did. And I realized that mine looked just like all the others. Beginning to wear away at my soul. The only one missing was the final photo of me becoming a Talon.

"The next room I found was the one where they keep the Talons. It has a bunch of red coffins just sitting there, waiting to be opened. It was so scary. Every single one of them had a Talon inside. It felt like I was in a lion's den, and any move I made could wake it up. I wanted to run in the other direction, but then I noticed something. One of the coffins. It was opened, Bruce. Each one was marked with a photo of the Talon inside as a child. And the opened one had a picture I saw before, from the photo gallery. It was Cobb's. I couldn't see him, but Cobb was in the maze with me. I couldn't go to sleep after that. I was terrified that the moment I closed my eyes Cobb would come. Suddenly it was like he was hiding in every shadow, and around every corner.

"The fountain water was drugged. I think it was different from what they used to knock Kaldur out though, and it was different from my first time in the maze. My first time, I was doped with whatever they put in there and I passed out. Then I woke up in some random part of the maze and started walking. By the time I found the fountain again, I hadn't had anything to drink in days. I knew it was a bad idea, but I was just so thirsty. Maybe an hour after I drank it, I started to hallucinate. I saw my parents in the maze. Their bodies broken. And owls...they...they were...picking apart their bodies. I screamed and ran away, but then I saw something else. It was Jason. He was getting beaten to death with that crowbar right in front of me. I tried to run, but the visions just kept following me everywhere I went. I've been through Crane's fear toxin before, but somehow this was worse.

"But it didn't last forever. One day, by the grace of God, I found it. The exit. I started weeping right then and there. It was finally over. I could go home.

"They wanted me to think that so that they could tear it away.

"As soon as I made a move towards it, a knife hit me from behind. I knew who it was before he even came out of the shadows. Cobb. By that point, I hadn't eaten or slept in days. It was over before it started. The next thing I knew, I was bleeding out on the ground. But I wasn't afraid. I was still relieved. Even if I couldn't go home, it was still over. They could never hurt me again. That was the last thing I thought before it all goes black."

"Then...then..." Dick began to stumble over his words, almost as though he were embarrassed to admit what happened next. "I...I went somewhere Bruce. I died, and I went somewhere."

Bruce's brows furrowed and the detective in him took over, quick to explain any phenomena. "Dick, you had been starved, drugged, you were losing blood. It would make sense for you to experience some type of...other reality while you were unconscious."

His words, though said with the best of intentions, only antagonized Dick and caused him to get defensive. "No! This wasn't a dream and it wasn't a hallucination! I was dead Bruce! Every Talon dies at some point! They flat line! It's all part of the process! That whole time that I said Dick Grayson died in that Labyrinth, it wasn't a fucking metaphor! My heart stopped beating!"

Dick was staring Bruce down with fire igniting in his yellow eyes as he yelled. It allowed him to watch as his tirade ended and Bruce's mouth began to open only to close it and look at him with wide, horrified eyes. Dick ignored that look and continued.

"I went somewhere Bruce. I...I saw things. Suddenly, I was at the circus. I woke up in the center ring. And my family-" Dick was cut off for a moment as an involuntary weep made it past his lips. "They were there. Oh God, they were there. They were all around me and they were smiling and they said they'd missed me, and they marveled at how much I grew. I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't want to know. I was with them and they were with me and that was all that mattered.

"We went up to the trapeze and it was like a dream come true. We flew through the air and it was like they had never died at all. I couldn't stop smiling. I knew what it was by then. I knew I was dead. But I couldn't have cared less. I was happy. I was at peace.

"And then I felt something pull me down. It was like gravity doubled, and suddenly I was falling, and my parents were screaming after me.

"I woke up screaming my lungs out. It was the worst pain I'd ever felt. Like every cell in my body on fire all at once. I tried to breathe, but my lungs burned like I was taking in smoke. I was on some kind of metal table, but I rolled off and doubled over on the ground. I think I screamed for hours. Maybe a day. Sooner or later the pain was dim enough for me to move. But when I got up and looked around, I nearly went right back to screaming. There was a Talon in the room with me. I tried to run away, but the only door in the room was locked. I turned back to the Talon, but then I realized something awful. It wasn't a Talon. It was a mirror.

"I looked so different. I wanted to believe that it was just another hallucination, but it mimicked my every move. I didn't even recognize myself. And not just because I was a Talon. My hair was matted and caked with dirt and blood. I'd lost a lot of weight too. The uniform they put me in was baggy. And then there was the more obvious stuff. My skin was paler than should be possible. There was absolutely no color in my lips or cheeks. The changes are...a lot more apparent the first few days after a Talon is turned. I had black veins all over my face too. But the thing that got to me the most were my eyes. My mom's eyes were gone. The blue I inherited was gone. They were gold now. And all I could think of was how much I looked like Cobb.

"I just stood there and stared for a while and I wanted desperately to believe that it was a dream. I don't know what caused it, but suddenly I put my fist through the mirror. A shard flew out and cut my arm. I put a hand up to it on reflex to stop the bleeding but...my blood. It was black. Before I was even done processing that I felt that burning again at the spot I'd been cut. Like my body was being burned alive from the inside out. It was the cut. It was already starting to heal. In less than a minute it was like it had never been there at all."

Before he could proceed with his story, Bruce stopped him, brows furrowed and eyes wide with horror. "Does...does it still hurt you like that? When you heal?"

Dick gave a hard swallow before nodding his head. "Every time."

Bruce looked like he had been punched in the gut, but Dick went on.

"Suddenly, I fell back. I couldn't breath. I couldn't move."

"A panic attack?" Bruce asked, unable to hide the tremor in his tone.

Dick shook his head this time, glistening eyes looking up to his father's.

"An injection. A dart hit me from behind. I think it was filled with liquid nitrogen. I...it was so cold. It was so cold and I-I couldn't move and-"

Dick's breathing became rapid and he raised a hand to his chest in an effort to calm himself down. It didn't work. Bruce made a motion to get up, but Dick sprang up from his seat at the movement and maneuvered his way around the couch so that it was now between them.

"Ow-Owls came in and they s-strapped me down to the ta-t-table and they started to give me injections and-and-Oh God! I thought I had been in that Labyrinth for months! They told me it had been less than two weeks! I-I couldn't fight Bruce! You have to believe me! I-I tried but I c-couldn't move and-and-"

He was hyperventilating now. Even the physiology of Talons required a small bit of breathing, and it was still dangerous to breathe so rapidly. Dick was about to fall, but Bruce was at his side in an instant, wrapping his arm around the ex-assassin's front while his other hand was placed flat against Dick's back. "You need to breathe Dick. Calm down. Take one deep breath with me."

Bruce demonstrated by taking in an excess of oxygen into his lungs. Dick mimicked his actions to the best of his abilities, but he was somewhere else.

"Good. Now again."

They repeated the simple act, at Dick felt some air manage to enter his lungs at last. He gasped like he had just come up from having his head held under water and began to breathe quickly. No longer hyperventilating, but still breathing faster than usual.

Bruce gathered the boy up in his arms and carried him back onto the couch and set him down in a resting position before taking a seat next to him, his hand remaining on Dick's back.

Bruce patted his back. "Let's stop now."

Dick suddenly gripped Bruce's wrist from the arm that was woven around him and gave it a tight squeeze before shaking his head in defiance.

"Dick, I still need to know what happened to you, but it can wait. I don't want to risk triggering you again."

"No." Dick gasped out. "I'm okay. I am. I just want to get this over with."

Bruce gave him a look, not fully believing Dick's words. "Okay. If that's what you want. But stop the moment you feel distressed. Okay?"

Dick nodded in confirmation before proceeding.

"I s-started training with Cobb not long after that. He was a brutal teacher, and he didn't seem to let the fact that I was his own flesh and blood get in the way of tormenting me. If he had been teaching me to swim and I couldn't, he would have let me drown. At first I refused to participate. He threw a sword towards me, but I wouldn't pick it up. That was the first time they locked me in cryosleep. I couldn't move. I couldn't even scream. They left me in there for a few days before letting me out. The next time, I was too scared to say no to the training again.

"I wasn't used to swords. They're a pretty big departure from bo staffs. Every time I got a stance wrong by having an arm or a leg as much as one millimetre out of its' proper position, Cobb would break the offending limb and have me try again before it finished healing. Eventually I got the hang of it. Enough so that they had me fighting other Talons anyway. I lost the first few times, and Cobb would...

"...he had this leather whip with a knife woven in at the end of it. It dug into my skin and took chunks out when he pulled it back. Eventually he got bored with that and started electrocuting me. After that there was this branding iron with an owl insignia on it. I didn't leave a scar, but healing it hurt just as badly as the burn itself. I would have a few minutes to recuperate before he sent me out to my next fight. Then..."

Dick bowed his head in shame and turned away from Bruce. "There's something you need to know. It wasn't just Zucco and those other four people. There were more."

Bruce looked alarmed, but Dick's next words set him at ease somewhat. "No one human! I swear! But...there were Talons. There were so many Talons."

"I finally managed to win one of my fights. I disarmed my opponent, and he was laying on the ground with a shattered knee that was taking time to repair. The Owls were cheering, and at first I was actually sort of proud. But then I heard what it was they were cheering. 'Break him', 'tear him apart', 'hurt him more'. I just stood there and looked at them, then I threw my sword to the ground. I refused to play their sick little games, even though that Talon wouldn't have had any problem doing the same stuff they were suggesting to me.

"Talons were all over me before anyone could blink. At first I thought they were just going to bring me to a different Talon to fight, but then I heard one of the Owls talking in the background. 'Put him in the cryochamber'. I freaked out, and my mind went blank. I somehow managed to break free of all the Talons, I got my sword off the ground, and I went after that Talon I just fought against. All I could think about was how painful it was to be forced into hibernation. I...I don't really remember what I did to him. But there was so much blood..."

"...there was so much blood..."

Dick began to shake again, and Bruce instinctively tightened his hold on his son. While it was true that Talons were the exception to his rule, and that killing them was not necessarily a crime, the human conscience and sense of morality were not equipped to deal with such a complex situation as killing someone who was already dead.

"We started training with different weapons after that. Throwing knives, scimitars, shuriken. I know it's cold comfort, but no guns. I promise. They were considered too loud and messy. Talons were supposed to be steadfast and silent. What happened with Gordon was an anomaly. They wanted it to be public.

"I think that went on for like a month, but it's like time moved differently there. Every day felt like it went on for an eternity. When they were satisfied that I was a good warrior, they wanted me to declare my loyalty to the Court. I sneered and told them to go to hell. You can imagine what it was like after that.

"They're pretty medieval in their tastes. Iron maidens, they put me on a rack, and they had this vat of water that-"

"I saw." Bruce cut in. Dick could tell by his tone of voice that he was on the brink of tears. "From the video. It was boiling, correct?"

Dick nodded. He could feel the phantom pain that their devices left on his skin as he relayed them in his mind. "I kept saying no. I thought the answer would always be no. But then..."

"Zucco?"

Dick nodded again. "And then Valerie after him. I can't really explain it, but I think I started to lose parts of myself after that. I started getting comfortable with it. All the violence and death. I stopped flinching whenever I killed a Talon. Suddenly, it was as easy as breathing. After that, Cobb...he started...taking me with him on assignments."

Bruce looked at Dick in alarm as he continued. "I never directly killed anyone outside the Labyrinth. But I would help Cobb when he did. I could have stopped him Bruce. I could have done something but...all I could think about was what they would do to me if I interfered. So I helped. I took out security cameras, I hacked into secure systems and got him information, I did whatever he asked of me. And now, innocent people are dead because of that."

Bruce lowered his head but kept his hold on the boy's shoulder strong. "How many?"

Dick flinched at how hollow Bruce's voice sounded, but answered anyway. "Five. Ten if we count the people in the Labyrinth."

Bruce nodded and looked at his son, who was still turned away from him. "Dick, none of that was-"

"I know!" Dick said as he suddenly stood up and broke off his guardian's hold on him. "I know that you think that I'm not responsible. That I'm not a monster. But it's not just the deaths in the Labyrinth, and not just the times I helped Cobb." Dick gave another shrill laugh in an attempt to cover up the tears forming in his eyes. "None of that is even the worst part. That night that you all found out about me. The night I was sent to assassinate Gordon. The night I nearly killed Superboy and Robin. I told you all that I only went along with it because I wanted to lead you back to the Court. That was a lie. I was going to do it. I was going to kill Gordon."

Bruce remained in a stunned silence, trying to wrap his head around Dick's words as he continued.

"It was just like all the other times I had been sent out. Except now Cobb wasn't looking over my shoulder. But that didn't change anything. I...I just knew that somehow, some way they would find me if I tried to run away. If I let Gordon live. If I did anything other than obey their orders. And when Conner and Tim found me and tried to stop me...it's not like my memories had been altered. I knew what I was doing. I knew that this was my brother and my friend that I was fighting. That I was close to killing. I didn't care. I was only thinking about myself. About what would happen if I failed my mission. I nearly killed three people I cared about that night, and I didn't even care."

Dick continued to stand there with his arms folded around himself. He was shaking, like he was cold. Bruce knew that in truth it was fear driving his actions. The older could not blame him. After all, he had hardly given the boy the benefit of the doubt the last time he found out about what Dick had done for the Court.

Bruce got up, not caring in the least that this amount of moving was a clear and deliberate violation of Leslie's and Alfred's orders. But as soon as he got close, Dick retreated from him again. "Don't touch me."

Bruce wanted to weep at Dick's actions. The boy most likely thought Bruce wanted to punish him for his actions. "That wasn't your fault either Dick. Following their orders is a conditioned response. You're not the first person to suffer from Stockholm Syndrome."

"It wasn't like that!" Dick insisted. "I wasn't brainwashed. I knew what I was doing and I knew it was wrong. And I know it wasn't Stockholm either. I still hated the Court. I didn't trust them, and I didn't become comfortable with them. But I...I was just..."

"Afraid." Bruce finished for him. "I understand. Tim and Conner will understand too. And it sounds like it was Stockholm Syndrome Dick. Having SS doesn't mean someone is ignorant to the law or to what's right and wrong, and despite popular opinion, it doesn't always mean a victim becomes affectionate with their captor. It can also mean that they become so terrified of their captors that they will comply with nearly every suggestion they make, and overtime find a sense of comfort and safety from that compliance. And despite that, you still did the right thing. You spared Gordon, even though you must have known that the Court would punish you for what you did."

"That wasn't planned. I just...when I..." Dick stammered and raised a hand to scrub over his face, words dying in his mouth.

"What is it?" Bruce pressed. "What caused you to stop?"

Dick sighed and took a seat back down on the couch opposite to Bruce, after which Bruce was finally able to sit down as well and relax his aching body. "It was...it was Babs." He answered. "I saw her through my scope when I was taking aim at Gordon and something just...clicked. And all I could think about was what it felt like when I saw my dad die and I realized I would be doing the same thing to her and...and...I..."

"I don't even know how to describe it. I was scared of the Court but I couldn't stop thinking about Babs and...it was all I could do to make the shot non-lethal."

Bruce nodded slowly, though his heart was chipped away by every word Dick spoke. "What about the Labrynth? When the League came to rescue you?"

Dick still didn't look up, but Bruce knew that if he did he would find guilt in his son's eyes. "My heart was pounding the entire time. When Cobb ordered me to kill the Team on his mark, I thought I might start screaming. It was like the Talon in me was revolting. I wanted to escape so badly, but every choice and move I made felt like I was walking through quick sand. Shaking off the Court's conditioning was like trying to saw off a limb. It was a part of me. It had been for months. I was so close to killing them. I...I..."

I'm a monster.

"I understand." Bruce stressed. "I've had to do horrible things when I was undercover as Matches. So did Kaldur during the deep cover mission. So did Artemis. I know it's not the same as being conditioned to do as you're ordered, but they'll understand too Dick. You went through something horrible and unforgivable. No one could ever hold you accountable after all that. They love you Dick, just like I do."

Dick nodded, but didn't look up as he lifted his hands to sweep the hair out of his face. It was still long and untamed from all his time in the Labyrinth.

It took some time after that for the stillness of the room to be broken again.

Dick had given Bruce a complete rundown of everything that happened. There was nothing else. Bruce knew everything from that point onward.

And now that everything that had to be said was aired, Dick was sitting down across from Bruce as still as a statue, still unable to bring himself to look up. When he finally did speak, Bruce's heart was broken anew.

"I wish I had stayed dead." He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. By that point, he no longer cared if Bruce heard him.

Bruce looked at him rightly terrified. "Please don't ever say that!"

Dick's head snapped up, eyes wet with unshed tears. "I wish I'd stayed dead!"

Bruce's heart lurched and he pushed down the dull throbbing in his chest once more in order to get up and g over to the couch across from him. He sat down next to Dick and pulled him close again, which Dick neither resisted nor encouraged.

"Oh Dickie." He whispered into midnight locks. "We'll get through this. I promise you. We'll get through this." Even to his own ears, Bruce's words rang hollow.

The promise was neither a lie nor was it true. Bruce had never encountered a situation like this. His boys had been bludgeoned and beaten, but never traumatized. And trauma did not even begin to capture Dick's situation. Not only had he been scarred emotionally and mentally by what happened, the electrum that ran through his veins ensured that he had physical symptoms that would never go away. Bruce could not begin to imagine what that was like for Dick. Trapped between life and death. Unable to die, and unable to forget all his horrible mistakes.

Unable to keep his mind focused on such dread, Bruce's thoughts wondered to one particular event within Dick's story. Seeing his family. Being on the trapeze.

Logically, Bruce had known about the transformation of Talons. He had known that they were killed so that they could rise again as undead servants of the Court. But he had thought of it in such a clinical manner before applying it to Dick. The heart stopped. Brain functions ceased. The body stopped producing heat. The body went into rigor. Death. Plain and simple. He had never really given thought to what happened after that.

Despite being raised by an Englishman who was very devout, Bruce wasn't sure if he believed in God or heaven. After all if God did exist, he certainly did seem to allow to world to fall into a state of disarray more than a fair share of times. It often fell onto himself and his fellow Leaguers to set things right when such events took place, and never once did he feel like there was any type of divine intervention helping them.

And yet...Dick sounded so certain that what he had experienced was real. Bruce liked to think that there might be some truth to it. He would have given anything to have seen Jason or his parents one last time.

This also gave Bruce a new appreciation for Dick's pain. To have his family back, to have them say they loved him, and to believe he could finally be with them again once and for all, only to be dragged from the perfect reality he had been introduced to and discover that this was his new reality. Being tormented relentlessly by the Court, and being trapped in a body that was no longer human.

Bruce knew that it must have been painful beyond words. And he also knew that he himself may not have been strong enough to survive something so awful.

"Can..." Dick began, snapping him from his musings. "Can I ask you something?"

Bruce looked down at him. Dick still had his eyes glued to the floor, and he made no effort to move. His voice sounded exhausted in every sense of the word.

"Of course." Bruce answered after a moment.

Dick looked like he didn't really want to ask anymore. Like he was afraid of an honest answer. But he somehow found the nerve to press on. "I just need to know. If you knew about me...about the Court and Cobb and where exactly it is that I came from...would you still have taken me in?"

Bruce needed a good full minute to think over his response. There had already been so much deceit between them. He owed Dick an honest answer, but he also owed the boy respect. "I can't speak for the man I was back then Dick. I was a very different person before you came into my life. But I pray I would have made the right choice."

Dick seemed to accept his answer and leaned into his touch, but Bruce stood up abruptly and caused Dick to pull back, retreating to his corner of the couch as Bruce walked back to his desk and opened one of the drawers.

"The right choice..." He repeated under his breath as he stared at something in the drawer. He hadn't meant for Dick to hear it, and he probably wouldn't have if not for his advanced hearing. Dick watched him intently as he reached down and pulled out a brown folder from his desk and thumbed through the pages in it, eager to see what Bruce was up to.

Meanwhile, Bruce was having his own internal conflict as he starred down at the papers in front of him. He had replayed this conversation with himself in his head a million times. That he had never meant to show favoritism to Jason. That he loved Dick, and though he wouldn't admit it out loud, loved him the most. That he never meant to make him feel neglected or unloved, but he had been so afraid that Dick would take it the wrong way. That he would consider it an insult to the memory of his parents. That he would feel incredibly conflicted with such a decision, and so Bruce may as well not submit the choice to him at all.

A list of arguments for and against what he was about to do. That's what it had always boiled down to. And one side generally beat the other and convinced him against it. The other had won momentarily for a time many years ago. It was when he had these papers drawn up in the first place. And now that side was winning again. He would do it. He would finally show Dick that he was so much more than a partner to Batman.

He was a son to Bruce.

"There's...something I've been meaning to do. It's...it's just a formality really. A gesture. I just..." Bruce said awkwardly as he walked back towards Dick. "I should have done this a long time ago. I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea, or think I was being disrespectful. It's...if you don't want to go through with this I'll understand, and I won't be hurt." He went on as he picked a single paper out of the folder and handed it to Dick, but the young man continued to look at Bruce with a raised brow as he took it. "It's just...it was the only way I could think of to let you know how much you mean to me."

Dick continued to fix Bruce with a questioning look before he finally looked down at the papers in his hand.

Immediately, his heart leapt into his throat. The small bit of breathing his transformed body still required came to a complete halt. He opened his mouth then closed it, and opened it again like a fish out of water. His eyes were wide and his limbs were stiff. No force on earth could have braced him for this.

Anticipation. Dread. Joy. No small amount of awe. All these emotions swirled together to form an invisible lump in Dick's throat. He didn't even know what to make of it. Bruce had said this was just a gesture. Dick was tempted to scoff at that thought.

A gesture? This was something he had thought over and wanted for years, yet he never found the courage to ask Bruce for it directly. Besides, this was not something one asked for. It was always something Dick knew he would have to wait for. Wait for a time and a place where Bruce was ready to take this step.

This was that time.

This was that place.

He looked over all the information on the form again, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it. He ended up doing it a third and a fourth time as well. The words on the paper remained the same.

~Report of Adoption~

~Child's Name After Adoption: Richard John Grayson Wayne~

~Name of Father Present: Bruce Wayne~

~Witness: Alfred Pennyworth~

Dick continued to read over it again and again, terrified that if he stopped, the words would fade away. Instead, he only found something else that made him feel like he would start laughing or crying or a combination of the two.

These papers weren't new. These were dated February 2005. A bit under a year after he had started living in the manor.

Dick had to close his mouth to keep himself from making any noise. Again, he had no way of knowing if what came out would be a whimper or a laugh. Regardless of which emotion caused them, Dick couldn't prevent the tears that slid down his face and landed on the papers in his grasp.

Bruce misread the tears and his face twisted in worry. "I'm sorry. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have imposed on you. You only just got back and-"

Bruce was cut off once again and his chest twisted in discomfort at the sudden contact as Dick launched himself at his guardian, wrapping his arms around him tightly and constricting Bruce's movements with his strong grip.

Bruce remained still for a moment before he allowed his worry to subside in favor of joy. He smiled lightly and placed a hand atop Dick's head. "I can have them submitted today if you want."

Dick nodded quickly, still afraid that he would begin to blend laughter and wailing if he opened his mouth. But he decided to risk it as he raised his head up to look his guardi-

His father in the eye. "I love you." He whispered as tears poured freely down his cheeks and overlapped his beaming smile. He put his head back to rest against Bruce broad chest and let the fabric of his shirt soak up his tears. "I love you so much."

Bruce hugged him back and the two allowed each other to become completely enveloped by the warm embrace. "I love you too son."

What Dick said earlier melted away like ice. He didn't want to stay dead. At that moment, he couldn't be happier to be alive.

As Bruce continued to pull Dick tightly into his chest, his eyes drifted down to the folder that fell to the floor when Dick tackled him, as well as the additional paper inside of it. He looked forward to showing it to Tim later.

~Report of Adoption~

~Child's Name After Adoption: Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne~

~Name of Father Present: Bruce Wayne~

~Witness: Alfred Pennyworth~

---

Dick

Five days later

Recognized: Nightwing B 01

For some reason, Dick was glad that the Team didn't remove his Watchtower clearance. Despite his insistence on not being addressed as Nightwing since his return from the Court, the was something comforting in the familiarity of hearing that machine and the title it announced.

No one was in the main hanger, which made sense as it was really only used for mission debriefing. He'd probably find members of the Team in the lounge. Eager to see if his theory was correct, Dick made his way towards the lower levels of the Watchtower to head into the lounge.

Once there, he was greeted by several familiar faces. The entire Team, sans the original members. Some Leaguers were also present; including Dinah, Diana, Zatanna, Clark, Hal. All the people he felt like seeing.

The only people missing were the friends he had wronged the most.

No one seemed to notice him at first. Everyone was scattered about the room, broken off into various groups and spheres of conversation. Sooner or later though, Mal looked up from his conversation with Karen and Zatanna and went silent when his eyes landed on Dick. Both women asked what was wrong before they followed his line of sight and found saw the newcomer at the doorway, causing them both to go silent as well.

More people began to pick up on it, which caused their groups to notice as well. Realization spread through the room like wildfire and soon enough every eye in the room was focused intently on Dick. Before he could brace himself, everyone was swarming him. A ring was formed around him in a matter of moments and everyone was talking at once. It ranged from simple questions like 'are you okay' to ones with far more complicated answers such as 'where have you been'.

As it turned out the League and the Team were being kept in the dark on a lot more than Dick initially realized. Everyone knew about the Court of Owls. They all knew that Dick was no longer human, and they knew that the Court had subjected him to cruel trials meant to ensure his compliance. But, Besides the original members of the Team, Diana, Clark, Tim and Babs, not a soul knew what he had done in the Labyrinth, and no one knew the specifics of his torture. Moreover, they didn't even know about what he had been up to the past two months in Bludhaven. They, along with the public, had been told that Bruce sent him away to a private treatment facility.

Dick thought he would be overwhelmed when he made the choice to accept Kaldur's invitation to the Watchtower. For many of the people present, this was his first time seeing them since he took a leave from the Team nearly a year ago. The others he had only seen briefly when he came to the Watchtower to resign. And yet, he only found comfort from everyone's sudden presence. It was the most safe and stable setting he had been a part of in months in fact.

Dick smiled sheepishly. He had forgotten that everyone cared about him so much, despite his mistakes. He had forgotten how nice it felt to have friends. "Everyone, please. I'm fine." He assured.

Zatanna narrowed her eyes on him in annoyance and crossed her arms. "Are you?"

Dick mentally cursed. The time they had spent dating gave Zatanna some insight into reading his tells. "No." He admitted to his ex-girlfriend. "I'm getting there though."

Zatanna smiled lightly, sensing that it was the truth. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted when a head of blonde hair pushed its' way through the small crowd that had formed around him. "Do you know how worried we all were?" Cassie asked with something caught between worry and displeasure in her eyes. "Tim's been worried sick about you for weeks! And none of us even knew what was going on. Did you get hurt while you were at that treatment center or something?"

Dick smiled sadly. "Or something." He replied easily. "It's really hard to explain. But I really need to thank you. Tim told me all about how much you've helped him these last few months. Thank you so much for looking out for him."

His brother's girlfriend grinned back at his praise, and Dick could see many of those present begin to smile. He didn't want them to get the wrong idea from this. He wasn't fully back to his old self. He wasn't sure if that would happen any time soon. But he was glad he could reassure them.

Dick turned to some of the other familiar faces in the crowd. The sight of one in particular made him mentally groan as he remembered the promise he made to Tim and Bruce some days prior. He had done it at the time for no greater reason than to get them off his back, and he certainly didn't want to do this in a public form. But he made a promise regardless, and he wasn't one to go back on his word.

Dick turned his whole body so as to properly face Black Canary. "Hey Dinah. I was wondering...well...could you and I talk. I mean like...later and in private. I made a promise to Batman and Robin that I would try to work through this and...I could use your help."

The entire room looked at Dick as though he had grown a second head. Was this real? Had a Bat really just asked another person for their help? Psychological help? Bats were notoriously self-reliant creatures. Even though no one could argue his point and it was as clear as day that anyone would need no small amount of counseling after what he had been through, the largest shock was that Batman had not only allowed it, but actually encouraged it.

Even though Nightwing's identity was revealed to the rest of the Team during the initial search for him, Batman's was still a well kept secret. Some people suspected that his being Dick Grayson meant Bruce Wayne would be Batman, but nothing was ever confirmed. All they ever directly knew about the man was what they had seen as Batman, and he did not seem like one to allow his proteges to open up.

Dinah was perhaps the only one who didn't react with awe to his request. She seemed more than a bit pleased that he came to her in fact. She smiled softly at him. "Of course. When would you be willing to start?"

Dick shrugged as he pondered the though briefly. "Next week?"

"Absolutely." Dinah said, smile and eyes bright. Dick felt a twinge in his gut. She seemed very enthusiastic about helping him, and he didn't look forward to telling her the truth about what he had done. She thought him some damaged innocent that the cruel world they lived in tried to destroy. He was going to shatter that illusion. To keep his mind of the dread that the thought of it evoked, he chose to focus on the reason why he came in the first place.

"Kaldur called me." He blurted out, earning him a look from most of his fellow heroes due to the sudden shift in topic. "He asked if I could meet up with him and the others. Do you know where they are?"

"They're down in the lower levels sparring." Someone answered, but Dick was so invested on keeping his mind off his upcoming session with Dinah to notice who.

Dick nodded and made a move to head towards the training room, which caused the group around him to disperse just enough to let him pass. He chose to drown out the whispers that followed as he exited the room. He caught one or two by accident though. Something about how it was good to see him doing so well, and that whatever treatment center Bruce sent him to worked wonders.

Dick sighed as he continued walking. He certainly acknowledged that he was doing better. He just wished the transition had come as innocently as they all believed it had.

The original Boy Wonder found his way to the training room not long after. Conner and Kaldur were on the sparring mat, exchanging well placed hits and maneuvering about their opponents. Out of the corner of his eyes Dick could make out Artemis and M'gann as well, sorting through what appeared to be a bridal magazine. Dick chuckled. That was such a M'gann thing to do.

His chuckle must have been louder than he initially realized, because everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and turned towards the door.

Suddenly, it was like the room was ten degrees colder.

No one moved. They all just kept staring at him, as though they didn't know what to expect.

Dick suddenly realized what an awful idea this had been. The last time he saw any of these people, he had been trying to commit murder right in front of their eyes. And here he was, a bit over two weeks later, a changed man who was back to laughing at their antics as he had done when they were children. That was a large pill to swallow. He had expected Kaldur, being the one who invited him, to have been at least somewhat prepared for his rather abrupt arrival. But he seemed just as bewildered as the rest of them.

Dick cringed slightly when he realized what this meant. He was the one who would have to break the ice. He hated that. Normally as the Bats went he was on the A list to handle any type of social situation. Not to say that the others were socially awkward. On the contrary, Bruce was incredibly charming and the world's best actor. He had to be to maintain the 'Brucie' persona. Tim and Babs were both very sociable as well. But Dick was apparently the one with charm who could sway any perp, male or female, or reveal top class information about the crime lord they worked for over a round of drinks.

This was something else though. These were people he cared about. People he had hurt.

He had already wronged them so much in so many ways. He had tried to kill Conner, allowed the entire Team to hate Kaldur while he was undercover, let M'gann believe her best friend was dead, and had put Artemis in a choke hold until she passed out. Babs was different. She was easy to talk to. It was what allowed them to become friends in the first place. More to the point, it had been one on one. It was another matter entirely to apologize for him mistakes in this group setting.

Dick had to suppress a groan. No one was talking still. Best to get on with it.

"I'm sorry." He began. "All I can say is that I'm sorry. None of you deserve what I've put you through. I don't expect you to-"

The start what would have been a long apology was put to a stop when Superboy groaned indignantly, as though he were uncomfortable hearing it. "Please tell me we're not going to start up the typical Grayson 'everything is my fault' speech."

Dick's eyes widened and he looked to the clone incredulously. "What are you-"

"Dick." M'gann started, getting up from the side bench she had been sitting on and slipping the magazine onto it as she did so. "We're not mad. We've been scared out of our minds. The last time we saw you, you had a complete emotional breakdown and we haven't heard anything from you since."

It took Dick off guard. He was well aware of the fact that he had inadvertently broken down crying in front of them at the Judge's mansion. He just wasn't expecting it to be as concerning to them as it clearly was. "Well...yeah but-"

Again someone interrupted him. "The last time you went radio silent on us, it ended with you running away." Artemis reminded. "If Wally hadn't gone over and assured us all that you were okay, we probably would have ended up storming Wayne Manor."

Dick was still giving them that look like they had all lost their minds. All they had done was express worry and concern over him. Had they forgotten that this was the same person that had trapped them all with Apokolips technology and all but forced them to watch as he tried to kill someone?

"Why aren't you angry?" He asked in genuine shock. Barbara and Wally were his best friends. Tim and Bruce were his family. Their forgiveness had not been unexpected. He didn't mean to downplay his relationship with the Team, but he simply couldn't comprehend how everything he had put them through was so easily looked over, and how everyone was acting as though the slate had already been wiped clean.

Everyone gave him that same look he had given them. It was Kaldur who eventually voiced the agreement that had apparently been reached between them in his absence.

"My friend." He began, his voice soothing. "I'm not going to bother reminding you that no one blames you for what happened in either the Court nor the Invasion. Nor will I remind you that what you were forced to do is not your fault. However, it seems I must remind you that we are your friends. We will always be there for each other. Through good times as well as bad. And we will never give up on our own."

Dick blinked at him. He opened his mouth, but found that he couldn't speak. What Kaldur just said...it was...

Every word of it made so much sense. He could easily see it being applied to a conversation with another teammate who made a mistake and was being hard on themselves. But for some reason, his psyche just didn't want to match up those facts with his own situation.

Roy had said something similar to him during their talk. That if it had been someone else that went through what he did, he would have been the first one to forgive and defend them. But something he found was that it was far easier to forgive others than it was yourself.

Dick had to wonder if this was what Bruce felt when he thought back on how he had treated Dick. That Dick's own transgressions could be forgiven, but his own were irrevocable atrocities.

Dick had already made promises to his friends and family that he would try to get better. If he was ever going to accomplish that, then maybe it was time he tried to forgive himself as everyone else already had.

Back to the situation at hand, everyone was looking at him with anticipation, waiting to see if he would accept Kaldur's words or not. He moved past the inability to speak and quietly cleared his throat before he gave the long awaited response. "Everyone...I..." He began, but found himself at a lose for words again. "I don't know what to say."

"Say that you're going to stop being an idiot and forgive yourself." Artemis said bluntly, as though she had been reading his mind. It occurred to Dick that M'gann very well could been hosting a psychic conversation about him as they awaited his answer, and possibly even listened in on his stray thoughts. He didn't really mind that at the moment.

"I promise to stop being an idiot, and I'll try to forgive myself." He said, repeating the words as best he could. He could make no promises regarding being able to forgive his own crimes. He could promise with utter surety, though, that he would try.

Everyone seemed to relax upon hearing his declaration and loosened up a bit. It looked like Kaldur was about to say something when Dick felt a rush of air pass him by which blew his hair about in the process, followed by a red streak rushing past his eyes before settling in the center of the room.

"Well? Whad'ya think?" The red clad newcomer asked. Everyone seemed to marvel at him for a moment, and he heard Conner say something along the lines of congratulations, but his mind was somewhere else as he examine the newcomer with a fine tooth comb. His back was turned to Dick, so he couldn't see this heroes face and only had the suit to examine.

His immediate thought was Barry simply given that the suit in question was awash with scarlet and also had lightning bolt headpieces that adorned the sides of his mask around the temple. But Dick quickly realized that though immediately similar, this suit was not an exact replica. The headpieces were silver rather than Barry's gold. It also had similar lightning bolt emblems around the ankles and waist. Moreover, the top of the mask, which was usually closed up in a manner similar to Batman's cowl, was opened up to reveal...

...red hair.

Dick finally tuned in on the thanks the newcomer was giving Conner for the earlier compliment. Now able to hear and recognize his voice, Dick gawked. "Wally?" He asked, unsure. His suspicions were confirmed the New Flash turned around to show off a proud silver bolt of lightning sigil on his chest and green eyes shown through his mask.

"S'up Dick?"

Dick chortled at how nonchalant Wally was acting. This was totally chalant! "What is this?" He asked with an easy smile blooming on his face as he gestured to the suit.

"My new look." Wally said. Dick glared in annoyance. At this point, he was pretty sure Wally was being intentionally vague. "What do you think? Pretty great huh?"

Dick chose to ignore the questions bursting in his mind and was actually about to give an honest answer when he heard a groan and familiar voice from behind him. "Please don't compliment him. He just spent the last half hour admiring himself in the mirror. If his ego gets any bigger, it won't be able to fit inside the Watchtower."

Dick giggled at the joke as he turned to face Roy, who was leaning against the door frame behind him. "Am I ever going to get an answer as to why he's wearing that?"

"Technically you never asked." Wally chided. "And even though you didn't, I'll tell you. Barry is retiring to take care of the twins. And because of that, someone had to step up to take his place. That's right. You people are looking at the new and improved Flash."

Wally then did a dramatic pose with his hands on his hips, and everyone in the room couldn't help but sneak a laugh at his tomfoolery, and Dick ever the troll had to take advantage of it. "That's too bad. I really liked you as...as...what were you called again? Flash Boy?"

Everyone broke down into more laughter and Wally looked positively mortified at the use of his old and hated nickname. He glared at Dick through his mask. "First that photo, and now this? Why do you hate me?"

"Oh! I almost forgot about that picture!" Artemis said, looking overjoyed. She got up from her seat and walked up next to Wally, but looked at Dick as she spoke. "That was amazing Dick. Seriously, you don't even have to buy me a wedding present."

Dick's smile stayed firm and brightened a bit as Wally gave his fiance a look a betrayal. "You're probably the only person on Earth to insist that the son of a billionaire shouldn't spend money on them, but have it your way."

Infectious joy and laughter spread across the training room not only because of the banter, but because they could now confirm with their own eyes what Wally had told them. Dick was back to his old self. Suddenly it was like the previous year never took place. There wasn't any deception during the Invasion. There wasn't any torture by the Court of Owls. There was no guilt ridden revenge plot that nearly undid Dick completely.

They were just a group of friends again. And that was all that mattered.

They continued to talk like that with each other for some time. It could have been an hour or two for all Dick knew, as no one was really bothering to keep track of time. No one really wanted to. They could have gone on like that forever. But sooner or later, Dick asked a question that had been pressing on his mind.

"Hey Roy?" He called. "Not to be rude, but what are you doing here? I thought you were retiring to take care of Lian."

The various conversations within the room began to calm down. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but everyone looked like they had just remembered something they had since forgotten. Roy looked over Dick's shoulder and over to Kaldur. "You didn't tell him?"

Dick turned and fixed Kaldur with a confused look. "Didn't tell me what?"

"I didn't mean it as a way of keeping secrets from you," Kaldur assured in his ever solemn voice. "I simply lost my train of thought when we began talking. The reason Roy is here is because even though he will be retiring after its' completion, he has a mission for us."

"Oh?" Dick asked.

"Nothing too big." Roy said. "Drug deal in Star City. No fighting or anything. Just need to snap a few photos and turn it over to the authorities."

Dick nodded. That certainly sounded harmless enough, but it didn't explain the need for the tense silence after he asked about it. "What's the catch?"

Roy looked down at his feet and shuffled awkwardly where he stood. He looked like the kid who was embarrassed to ask a girl out to prom. Kaldur stepped in and freed Roy from his awkward position though.

"We, the whole Team I mean," Kaldur began, sounding a bit unsure himself. "We were hoping that you would accompany us."

Yellow eyes flashed as they widened to resemble those of an owl. He was sure for a moment that he had misheard the Atlantean. It was one thing to forgive him for his behavior, but to do both that and ask to work with him again?

Dick simply wasn't sure if that was a good idea. They could forgive him at their own leisure, but he had still only just began to recover, and hadn't even spoken to Dinah yet. They had no idea what might trigger him. As it stood, they were in uncharted waters. It wasn't a good idea to have him out on the field yet. "Kaldur...I-"

"Just hear us out." Wally said. "It's only covert. No fighting involved whatsoever-"

"I would remind you that the worst fights we've been in took place during covert missions." Dick added, but stopped when he saw Wally's downtrodden frown. This was clearly something that was important to his best friend, if he was willing to give up his moment in the spotlight as the New Flash just to cast some illumination on this particular topic. "Sorry. Keep going."

"It's tomorrow night." Roy picked up. "And come on. No one's more stealthy than you. Even Bats has got nothing on you."

"First, that's an exaggeration. Second, I left the Team, remember?"

"So did I." Wally reminded. "That doesn't mean anything though. Nothing is set in stone. And we're not asking you to hop right back in. Just baby steps. One covert mission. No fighting. What could be better for easing back into the life?"

"What if I just don't want back into the life?" Dick countered. Not only was it a lie, it actually physically hurt to say.

Wally gave him an unimpressed look. "Well, then I would understand and support that. But the thing is, you do. I know it, you know it."

Dick let out an exhausted sigh. He didn't really have the energy to continue this argument for much longer. Especially considering Wally was right. "I don't know..."

"Just this once. See how it feels. Then you'll be in a good position to make up your mind on whether or not you want to come back."

Damn Wally West when he actually had a valid argument. Dick let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. This was clearly something that was important to them, and after all he had done to them as of late he certainly owed them. More to the point, if there was no conflict involved whatsoever and it remained an innocent recon mission, then the chances of him being triggered by something were slim to none. "Just this once. We'll see how it goes from there."

"Great!" Wally exclaimed,fist pumping the air. "That's awesome. I'll see you all there."

Roy snickered from the doorway. "You ain't coming West."

Wally looked at his longtime friend dejectedly, enthusiasm draining away quickly. "Why not?"

Dick laughed at Wally's ignorance, breaking through strain of anxiety that had been built up during their brief debate. "In that getup? You'll be like a neon sign! Plus, stealth isn't really your strong suit." Dick chastised playfully. "Walls, if we bring you it'll be a total disaster! Heavy on the dis!"

No one commented on how wonderful it was to see Dick butchering the language again, nor could they argue his point. Wally's shoulders slumped. "Alright, alright. Can I at least send Bart in my place?"

"A kid in bright yellow spandex who can't stop talking to save his life?" Roy asked for clarity. "Yeah. That sounds like a good idea for a covert mission."

"Hey! He's improving on his stealth!"

"With all the speed of a glacier."

Wally growled and Dick sniggered again while Roy waved to the Team. "I've got to go. Jade is heading out soon and someone needs to watch Lian. I'll see you all tomorrow, except for you." He said, pointing at Wally which caused the ensuing glare to intensify. Roy paid him no mind and walked away without ceremony.

Dick turned back to Kaldur while his enhanced hearing picked up on a few less than kind words that Wally was grumbling under his breath. "So it'll be all of us then? Everyone in the room I mean?"

Kaldur smiled at him as he went over to the holo-terminal. "Not quite. There's another member of the Team that will be running point for us. I insisted that she take a few more days to recuperate, but she's made up her mind. Apparently, you said something to reignite her spirit."

Realization passed over Dick like a wave as he heard Kaldur out, understanding right away who he meant. "Batgirl?"

At that moment, a holographic screen popped up on the terminal with a familiar face on it. Babs. She was no longer in the hospital. Dick could tell by the background that she was in her apartment again. She was also wearing a pair of glasses he hadn't seen on her since Gotham Academy. But beyond her physical appearance, he could tell that there was something else of note that had changed in her. Kaldur had been right. He flame was back. She was smiling at them and Dick could clearly see that the force of nature that was Barbara Gordon had returned.

"Not Batgirl." She said over the comm. "Oracle."

Dick's smile widened at the name and the hidden meaning behind it. Leave it to Barbara Gordon of all people to take a misfortune like hers with a grain of salt and push forward. And not only push forward, but become stronger by the end of it. He had no doubt that she would continue on this path, and surpass everything she had done as Batgirl.

He was glad he had been able to do something right for a change by helping a friend in need.

And speaking of helping friends in need...

Dick looked between Babs and Kaldur rapidly as he remembered something he had left to do. "I'm sorry, I have to go. I have to talk to Roy. I'll be back for the mission tomorrow I swear." He said as he turned on his heel. He was already getting a combination of strange looks from his teammates, but he didn't care. He hoped Roy hadn't left just yet.

As he raced through the Watchtower, he was glad to see Roy still in front of the Zeta Tubes just about to head out. "Roy! Wait up!"

The redheaded archer turned to face him as he slowed down and came to a halt in front of him. "Yea Dick? What's up?"

"It's...well I get that it's a topic you'd probably want to avoid but..." Dick said, stumbling over his words. Perhaps this was a bad idea. After all, he wouldn't want someone else to be so cavalier in his own experiences with death. It was probably just as delicate a topic for Roy as it was for Dick. But Roy had stood by him and never given up on him, regardless of the things he had done. He had even told Dick about his own brush with breaking the taboo on killing in an effort to help him. He needed to say.

Dick swallowed before continuing. "I never thanked you properly for telling me about what happened to you. I know that couldn't have been easy, but you still did it for me. I'm lucky to have a friend like you Roy."

To his surprise, Roy didn't seem to mind him bringing it up. In fact, he looked more troubled about Dick thanking him than anything else. It wasn't until Roy spoke up that he understood why. "You are something else kid." His features softened before he spoke, but he still seemed somewhat frustrated. As though Dick were missing the point. "You don't ever have to thank me for that. That's just the way it is. That's the way its always been. You, me, and Wally. We're best friends. One of us is in trouble, the other two drop what their doing and help anyway they can. That's what you two did for me when I was a mess. It's not your fault that I didn't listen."

Dick was fairly certain that this was the first time he had ever heard Roy call them his best friends out loud for all the world to hear. He would be sure to hack into the Watchtower security system later on to get footage of this.

It occurred to Dick that he more than likely had underestimated his friends, and even taken them for granted. There were very few people in the world that would strive as they had to understand what he did and why he did it. Fewer still that would want to associate with someone like him, let alone continue to be his friend.

It was comforting. Comforting beyond words even. He would have liked to try and convey to Roy just how much that single statement meant to him, and how despite Roy's claims that there was no need to thank him, Dick very much doubted he would be in a position to talk so freely to his family about what he had been through if it hadn't been for Roy taking the first step. He wanted to...

But right now, he had to get back home. Alfred had imposed another curfew on him, and he was not ashamed to admit that their butler could be more terrifying than Batman.

More to the point, Dick had no way of knowing how he would convey his gratitude to Roy. The older man had already stated outright that he didn't need nor want his thanks. With that in mind, he simply decided that he would find a better time to bring it up, and give Roy the thanks that he deserved.

Dick walked over to the terminal and punched in the coordinates for Gotham City before turning back to Roy with a broad smile. Despite the earlier statement that there was no cause to thank him, Dick did it anyway out of reflex. "Thank you Roy. I'll see you tomorrow."

Recognized: Nightwing B 01

With a flash of gold light, Dick was gone. And once he was, more wind tumbled violently through the air as Wally sped up behind him.

"Is the plan still a go?"

Roy smirked back at him. This was something the two of them had been planning in collaboration with Tim and Bruce for some time. Something to help give Dick a gentle if somewhat forceful push back to Nightwing. Realistically, he could have taken down the dealers in Star City in a heartbeat without backup. This was solely for Dick's sake.

"Yeah. We're ready to go."

---

The next night

Dick was on the verge of going spastic as he continued to tear his room apart. He had already torn out a floor board and undone all of Alfred's hard work to maintain some sense of cleanliness in his room by tossing the sheets of his bed about.

He wasn't panicking though. Bats never panicked.

He had been preparing for the covert mission with the Team and was just about ready to go. There was only one thing missing. It was both the simplest, but at the same time the most crucial piece of equipment in any vigilante's arsenal. A mask.

That in and of itself was not too much to worry about. Even though he had smashed the Talon's mask in front of Cobb, he could simply borrow one from Tim. He was sure his little brother wouldn't mind. He had been quite adamant in his attendance on the mission in fact.

The problem was the rest of his uniform, or lack thereof. His Talon equipment was gone. He had pulled out the floorboard he kept it hidden in and found it missing. He searched the rest of his room high and low in an effort to find it, desperately hoping that he had simply placed it somewhere else and forgotten about it. Because if that wasn't the case, it meant someone else removed it. Which in turn meant that someone in the manor knew he had kept it.

So maybe he was lying to himself. Maybe he was panicking.

In retrospect, he was much more surprised than he should have been. He lived with the two greatest detectives in the world, and Alfred Pennyworth. How long could he have actually kept that a secret, especially when Alfred had seen him leave the manor in that gear.

Eventually giving up on his futile search, Dick decided that there was only one option left, and it was one that he dreaded. He would have to ask where it was.

It wasn't that concerning on its' face. One of them must have known to have taken it in the first place. And if one of them knew, all of them knew. He wouldn't be breaking bad news to anyone. He just didn't want them to get the wrong idea.

He didn't want to wear the uniform. He hated it. The black fabric burned his skin with hated memories of a time he'd sooner forget. But it was all he had. The Owls had burned his Nightwing suit in front of him a long time ago. And while he had considered making a new one, he didn't have the time for that tonight.

Deciding that it was best to get it over with, regardless of what his family might think of him by the end of it, Dick got up and went downstairs.

Everyone was in the main room. It seemed ordinary enough to the untrained eye. Tim and Bruce were sitting at the fireplace, drinking coffee and reading books in their laps like mirror images of each other. Alfred was lightly dusting the mantelpiece. And all of them had their eyes averted from the staircase even though they had clearly heard him come down.

Dick felt irritation fester in his chest as he realized what was going on. They did this on purpose. They were waiting for him. Bruce and Tim weren't even reading the books they had, and that mantelpiece was damn near spotless already. This was a setup.

Refusing to stand around and wait for one of them to make the first move, Dick marched in front of them and stood in front of the fireplace with his arms crossed. "Where is it?"

Tim was the first to address him, looking up from his book with the most innocent and clearly transparent smile Dick had ever seen. "Where's what?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, so where is it?" Dick said, already beginning to lose his patience.

Bruce set down his mug of coffee and kept his gaze firmly in place on a set of words he was only partially reading. "It's right behind you Dick."

Dick raised a brow in a look that Bruce still didn't look up to meet. There was nothing behind him expect the mantelpiece and-

Dick's eyes widened as he realized the implication of Bruce's statement. They wouldn't.

Dick whipped around to look into the fire.

They would.

It was hard to make out past the flames and burnt wood, but he could most definitely see what appeared to be the partially burned remnants of black cloth halfway buried beneath the ash that laid at the bottom of the hearth. Dick sighed and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He could hardly mourn that accursed uniform the way he did his Nightwing suit. The fact that they were both burned was a poetic sense of justice that did not escape him. But it still left him at an impasse.

"Tim," He began, lazily casting his eyes on his younger brother, who far to pleased with Dick's reaction. "I assume this was your idea."

"Yep." Tim replied, popping the 'p'. Was this what it was like for others when Dick trolled them?

"I see." He said, looking back into the fire to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He could understand Tim doing something so juvenile, no matter how mature he was when wearing the mask. He was still only fifteen after all. What did come as a shock was that Bruce and Alfred were so happy to go along with it.

As he continued to look, it occurred to Dick that there was no metal in the fire. "Do I dare ask what happened to the claws?"

"They've been dismantled and destroyed, Master Dick." Alfred said as he returned to the room with a tray of sandwiches and tea.

Dick looked back to them with a blank stare, not able to decide if he should be happy that the uniform of the Court was now ashes and dust, or upset over the fact that they had done this behind his back when he still had need of it. "I needed that uniform. I don't have anything else to wear to the mission tonight, unless you want me to go out in civies."

"Over my dead body." Bruce said, fixing Dick with his typical Batman look. It wasn't quite the glare, but it was not something he wanted to be on the receiving end of regardless.

"What then?" Dick asked. "The mission begins in less than an hour. They'll go without me if I don't show."

"You think we would have done all this without thinking about that?" Bruce asked with a raised brow.

It was a fair question. The Batfamily were the masters of contingency plans. But Dick still had to wonder what all this was leading up to. He didn't enjoy being jerked around, and wanted to put an end to it now.

"We have prepared something for you in the cave, Master Dick." Alfred said, suddenly at the grandfather clock and positioning the hands in their correct positions. The clock moved away to reveal the entrance to the cave, and Alfred stepped aside in like to clear the way for Dick. "You will find it at the bottom of the staircase. You can't miss it."

Dick shot his three family members a look before he sighed again and chose to comply. He would have to go quickly in order to make it in time. Once he was through the entrance, he rushed downstairs quickly and quietly so as not to elicit Alfred's remarks of running on the stairs. He flipped down the last stair with acrobatic grace and got to examining the cave, trying to find the explanation he had been promised. It would make sense for them to leave it in plain sight for him to find, so he didn't immediately go to overturning tables. He swept his gaze over the Bat-computer, the Batmobile, the display cases-

And he froze.

It was right there, just as Alfred had promised. It was sitting in his case. The one that had been vacant for so long after the Court took him. It had housed his Nightwing suit, and his Robin costume before that. He passed on the later of the two to Jason, and it now sat in its' own display case.

Only know did it dawn on Dick that the Team had most certainly played a part in this. Inviting him to the Watchtower, offering him the mission. It was all part of a grand scheme to get him down here and to get him to gaze upon what they had prepared for him. Dick didn't even care about that. He was too overwhelmed by the sight before him.

Dick was not embarrassed to admit he was amazed. It was...perfect. He couldn't explain exactly what it was that made him feel so strongly about it, but he looked at it and he just knew that it was something that was meant for him.

Mesmerized by the sight of the contents, Dick walked closer to it and pressed a hand against the glass. It wasn't exactly like the old one, but that was by design. No doubt an effort of some sort to rid him of the bad memories that may have been associated with the previous suit. Oddly enough, it worked. He looked at the magnificent sight in front of him, and his mind was not drawn to the past. Not to that which he had been forced to do. Not to the acts he had committed for vengeance.

He looked at it, at all the hard work and painstaking detail that had been laid into it, and he saw only that which he might become.

Not long ago, Cobb had asked him what drew him to the name Nightwing. The answer was simple, yet it was complex.

Nightwing was the hero that Clark had told him about as a child, just around the time he was considering leaving the Robin mantle behind. Nightwing. The great rebuilder. The catalyst of change. Eternally reborn to start anew. Just like the phoenix of old. Nightwing was by no means immortal. Quite the opposite in fact. Nightwing fell consistently. What made him special was that no matter what he was put through and what was done to him, he could shed himself of all that had befallen him and begin again. That was the Kryptonian hero that Dick decided he wanted to emulate. Tear down the past. Burn away all the past pains and anguish and heart ache, and rise once more from the ashes to become something new. Something untouched.

That was the original Nightwing. As for Dick himself...

He had been called many things in his life. Nightwing. Monster. Talon. Son. Hero. Each title had been true, in its' own right. Then he would shed it for the next role that was assigned to him. That had always been the way of things for him. It was how he evolved and grew. Letting go of the past, and looking to the future.

The Court of Owls had prided themselves on trying to strip that away from him. Taking away everything that made him who he was. Trying to leave nothing but a mindless Talon. Ensuring that the only path he had left to follow was to embrace his true 'destiny' as the Gray Son of Gotham. They had nearly succeeded.

It was time that he burned that down as well, just as they had to that accursed uniform.

Because 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. (6)

---

"Where is he?"

The entire Team was beginning to sympathize with Roy's impatience. The deal would be going down less than an hour from now, and they could not afford to wait much longer. Dick knew that. He knew better than anyone that the mission couldn't stop on behalf of a single person.

Speculation had begun a while ago. Had he changed his mind? Had something gone wrong with the plan? Had Bruce and Tim not been successful in convincing him?

Any outcome looked bleak. The desperately wanted this. They knew it would be good for Dick if he would just give himself the chance. But he was so damned stubborn sometimes...

Oracle's voice crackled in the comm link, cutting off their collective musings. "I'm sorry guys, but it looks like he's not coming. We'll try again another time, but you have to get a move on if your going to get their in time."

No one liked it, but she was right. There would be other recon missions.

Just as everyone got up to go to head into the Tubes, the Watchtower systems announced a new arrival. Once it spoke the name of the incoming hero, none would ever deny that their hearts fluttered with joy.

Recognized: Red Robin B 20; Nightwing B 01

Red Robin materialized first, walking out of the Tube with a triumphant grin on his face. And not long after him, came Nightwing...

Even though all members of the Team were made privy to the plan in its' entirety, and knew full well what to expect one they arrived, it didn't lessen the awe of seeing Nightwing's new suit. It was well and truly a sight to behold.

The Nightwing symbol had been shifted from royal blue to a deep crimson red, not far off from the colors that Wally now wore. Moreover, the emblem was no longer confined to an eagle sigil. The large shape of the wings of his chest spread out far, and rolled over his shoulders in a 'v' shape, which extended down his arms and to his fingers. The suit was intentionally made different from that of the Talon's garb. Even though his new physicality no longer made it necessary, had full body armor around the shoulders, boots, and gloves. The gloves themselves also had arm blades running down the sleeves, just like Batman's own. The collar was made a tad higher as well, to obscure his black veins.

Dick smiled at them from behind the mask that covered his golden irises. "Shall we begin?"

Kaldur smiled proudly at his friend, leading the Team into the Zeta Tubes and towards their next mission. "Of course. And afterwards, we celebrate. Today is the day that Nightwing has returned."

Dick smiled, as did all his friends and his brother. "You're right." He agreed. "Today's the day."

---

He had been called many things in his life. So many that it was hard to keep track at times. But it didn't matter what others called him. The only things that mattered were those that he knew to be true

He was a Talon.

He was an assassin.

He was a freak of nature.

He was, for all intents and purposes, a dead man walking.

And he was a monster...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

...but that's not all he was.

He was also a performer.

He was an aerialist.

He was a former sidekick.

He was an inspiration.

He was a protector...

.

.

.

.

.

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.

.

.

.

.

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.

...but most importantly...

...he was a Grayson...

...and he was a Wayne.

He was the son of John and Mary Grayson, the Flying Graysons.

He was the son of Bruce Wayne, Batman.

He was the brother of Jason Todd and Tim Drake, both Robins.

He was the best friend of Wally West, the New Flash.

And he was Nightwing.

.

He was a Hero.

---

(1) What do you think of my little easter egg?

(2) The dialogue where Dick tells Talon he isn't special is taken from Batman Volume 2 #6, and the part where Cobb taunts Dick on the hidden meaning of the name Nightwing is a reference to when Lincoln March does the same in Robin War #2.

(3) Wings of the Night - Shout out to the Author Fanofeverything101, who not only wrote the story Wings of the Night which helped inspire this one, but also beta'd parts of this chapter for me. If you're reading this, I can't thank you enough my man.

(4) The joke was right there. It had to be done. It's like my favorite running gag ever sense the motion sensors in season 1.

(5) The picture rooms filled with the victims of the Court or Owls can be found in Batman Volume 2 #5

(6) Taken directly from Nightwing Volume 3 #9. The exact line that Dick says after he defeats Cobb. Destinies do not exist.

I'd like to thank you all for the wonderful things you've said over the course of this story. Please continue to comment and perhaps recommend this story to your readers.

Beyond that, there will be a sequel. I can't gaurentee it will be up anytime soon though. There are still a lot of plot details I need to hammer out first.

In the meantime, this will remain up for your reading pleasure. Please continue to let me know what you thought, and I'll get back to you with the sequel as soon as I can.

Thank you all for the kind remarks you have all made. I truly hope you enjoyed this last chapter.

Until next time. ;)

Seraphim 0~