AN #1: Review responses:

Dratias: Long reviews are fantastic! I'll be completely honest, I cannot come up with creative names for the life of me and Shadow was the best I got. I would go with Renegade but for the purpose of this story, and the fact it literally means traitor, Tim would know something was up and I can't be having that, now can I? But no worries, he should be getting a name change shortly(Plot porposes). I feel the same way about the Dick/DS fanfics. So after watching Batman: Under the Red Hood, it was just like, "Oh! I an write out this story now because Jason going insane makes perfect sense so why not the same for Dick?" The Light members trust Deathstroke's and Ra's' judgment, but I think they'll be a tad iffy either way. I can't say if Wally dies, but I loved writing him seeing the officer as Wally as well. it was the perfect, 'is he sane or insane' moment.

Dlsky: Your reviews always manage to make me get this silliest smile whenever I read them! Deathstroke and Ra's actually don't know that he doesn't remember because he hasn't mentioned it. They're just assuming he's pushed it to the side and that if he seems to lose focus because of it then they'll ask about it. I'll be honest, I don't want Dick rescued either! I love the books where the villains actually win. There's just something so much more appealing about them to me. No spoilers, though (; I've a pretty good idea about setting up a chapter focused solely on Dick's sanity/mentality. I just hope I can pull it off and make it really edge-of-your-seat worthy, because that's what it is while it's just in the back of my mind! Thanks again for the amazing review! I really appreciate all the thought that you put into them. They're so helpful for me both as a writer and reader.

Robin stared up at the hologram of his deceased brother figure. The figure was tinted blue due to the holograph. Dick Grayson stood tall and proud, a stern frown on his face. His arms were held in front of him with one hand covering the other. Blue lines up from the emblem of the bird in the center of his chest and down to his wrists on both arms before it stopped. Escrima sticks stuck out from above his shoulders where they rested in small back holsters.

He sighed. It'd been so long since he'd bothered to visit the hologram, let alone his grave. Cassie stood beside him. "I've tried to be the hero he was," he muttered to his friend. He and Cassie had grown close over the past few weeks, making many of the team believe they were dating, which in turn had made him blush. There was no way that she thought of him like that. "Or at least half of the hero he was," Tim added after a moment of thought.

Wonder Girl gripped the arm that Shadow had dislocated weeks ago. "You already are, Robin. You just have to realize that."

He shook his head and ripped his arm from her hands. He was still furious with himself for being taken down so easily. "No, I'm not!" he snapped. Robin regretted it instantaneously. Wonder Girl clenched her teeth and turned away from him, clearly hurt that he'd just snapped at her. "I'm sorry," he added. "It's just…" He broke off, unable to finish his sentence.

"It's just what, Robin?" she questioned after a moment, turning her head to look at him. Robin felt like melting into nothing at the cold glint in her eyes. She really hadn't appreciated being snapped at for just trying to help him.

Robin swallowed the lump in his throat. "It's just… You never got the chance to know him," he feebly explained. "He trained me, Cassie. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it. He could say the rudest thing and make it seem like a compliment if he put his mind to it." A small chuckle escaped him as he thought of the time he'd mock taunted him after a failed attempt at doing acrobatics.

Cassie looked up at the hologram of the fallen hero, her gaze softening. She grabbed his arm again and gave it a light squeeze. Robin looked at her through his sunglasses. She paused, thinking about what she wanted to say. "I may not have met him, but from what I've seen and heard, he was a great guy."

"The best."

She gave his arm another squeeze. "You can't always expect to be what you think he wanted you to be, Robin." He gave her a startled look, as though only now realizing how she was talking.

"Um, are you alright?" He questioned, confused. "You're not acting like yourself. And aren't you supposed to be training with the others?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm just trying to help! But since you're so eager to get rid of me, fine, I'll go train with the others." He opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted. "No! It's fine. Sorry I was trying to help as best as I can! It's not like you're my friend or anything."

Robin could only stare after her as she walked away from him. He found his voice again after she was already gone. He tried in vain to get her to come back. "Cassie, I'm sorry… ugh! I'm such an idiot!" he scolded himself. Robin put his head in his hands and slumped to the ground. Dirt and dust exploded outward, though the young Bat didn't notice. After a couple minutes of sitting there like that with his back hunched over and head in his hands, Robin looked back up at the hologram.

Tim sighed. "We need you, Dick. I need you," he whispered. His voice shook. "Why'd you have to go after Joker on your own? You should've waited. We could've taken him down together." A pause. "So I've been working on that maneuver you taught me a few days before you… anyways, I just thought you'd like to know that. It's almost perfected and if Jason wants to spar later I'm going to use it on him. I bet you'd have loved to see the shocked expression on his face when it works."

Silence fell over the small cave again. The holograms remained motionless. Tim almost wished that they didn't. It'd make it feel as if he were actually talking to the man instead of just an image. Then again, at least it was better than a grave. He knew that from personal experience. There was just something more worth it coming to the cave to see the image than walking through the cemetery in Gotham. Maybe it was the fact that here Tim didn't have to walk through an area filled with dead people. Or more specifically, the graves of his parents, Bruce's parent's, and seeing Dick's grave next to the rest of his family's. There had intentionally been a gap between Dick's parent's graves for when the world claimed Dick and that was where he currently rested. But that didn't make it any better for anyone. No one had expected for him to be taken away so soon. Especially not at the age of seventeen. No one deserved to die at that age. Not even a bad guy. It just wasn't right.

"Bruce is standing trial on another planet right now." He jumped and his mouth suddenly speaking for him without him intending for it. "That's pretty ironic, isn't it? After everything he's done for this world and he's been put on trial for a crime that he'd been forced to commit. And with him gone, Jason has to act like Batman. He's gotten the voice pretty close but he definitely does not have the fight. That's why he tries to end fights as soon as possible. To keep thugs from realizing that he's not the one they fear. It's pretty exhausting on him. Leading the Team, being Nightwing in place of you and patrolling Blϋdhaven half the night and then coming to Gotham to patrol as Batman the second half. I don't know how he does it, but he does. I think you'd be proud of him if you were still here."

Another break of silence. Tim stood up to leave just as Conner entered the room. Tim turned his head to glance at Conner before looking back at the image. "Does it ever get easier for you?"

Conner's mouth gaped. "I don't understand. Does what get easier?"

Tim turned to fully face Superman's clone. "Looking at Nightwing and remembering that it's Jason under the mask and not Dick." He gestured to his own suit. "And looking at me and remembering that the Team isn't anything like it was when it first started."

Conner frowned it thought, his head tilting ever so slightly. "I've never really given it much though," he admitted after a few seconds. "When you're in costume, I see Nightwing and Robin. Not Jason and Tim. It's when you aren't in costume that you're Tim Drake." He stepped forward and put a hand on the Boy Wonder's shoulder. His eyes found Tim's through the sunglasses. "Like right now, to me, you're Tim, though I'll call you Robin when there are others present. But that's not what you're really asking, is it?"

Tim's shoulder slumped beneath the clone's grip. "No."

"So what is it?"

"How did you find a way to move on? To accept that he's really gone?" Tim blurted. Conner's eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things he'd expected the boy to ask, this was not one of them. He wasn't even sure that he had an answer to that. He'd never given it thought.

"I… I'm not sure," he admitted quietly. "I just… did. It's what humans needed. They needed strong heroes to defend them. So I made myself strong by accepting and moving on, I guess. And… I think that's what he would've wanted. For us to move on."

Tim chuckled. "You know, he used to tell me and Jason all these stories about how you used to charge into fights without thought and that you didn't think before you acted." Conner raised an eyebrow. "I'm starting to think that he just made those up. You're almost nothing like who he made you out to be."

"Apparently you're not as good a detective that you claim to be," Conner teased with a playful nudge. "He probably washed over most of the things I did so I didn't seem so bad."

"How so?"

"Did he tell you about how we met?"

"No."

Conner sat down and gestured for Tim to follow his action. "Well, you obviously know that I was a clone made by Cadmus. I was called project Kr. I'd been made to replace Superman. Nightwing, who was Robin at the time, came to Cadmus with Wally and… Kaldur," he added with a remorseful shudder before continuing. "They came against League orders to stay in the Hall of Justice-"

"No way!" Robin fanboyed, eyes wide behind sunglasses and mouth open in awe.

"Yes way. They found me below the building and I was told by the genomorphs, who taught me everything I knew telepathically while I grew, that they were my enemies. They set me free of the pod I'd been in and I attacked them. I ended up bruising one of Dick's ribs when I stepped on his chest. Kaldur was the one who convinced me that they could show me Superman and I listened. But it's because of the three of them that I'm here today." He hesitated and glanced at the hologram just feet in front of the two heroes. "We may not have been best friends of anything, but I owe everything to him. If he hadn't have hacked the computers at the Hall and insisted they check it out…"

"Wow…" Tim muttered. Then he grinned. "I knew there was more than one reasons why I was obsessed with him. Now I know why. He's a legend!"

Superboy studied him through carefully trained eyes. He'd learned a little bit on how to read Bats. "That's not all you have on your mind," he deadpanned.

"Huh?"

Superboy's eyes narrowed. "There's something else bothering you… Want to talk about it?" Tim gaped, unable to believe that he'd allowed himself to be read. It was one of his most important rules. To never let yourself be read. It was something that Gotham's psychos would love to be able to do. That's why Tim spent an hour every day meditating and working on keeping the unreadable expression that Batman wore.

Tim sighed. "There's this man I fought a few weeks ago and he beat me like it was nothing. I got a few blows in but I have a feeling that those were only because he let me catch him. He got under my skin, Conner. He knows that Dick is dead."

"Everyone knows that Dick Grayson is dead," Conner frowned.

"He knows that Jason isn't the first Nightwing," he specified. His eyebrows furrowed as he once more thought about his fight with the man. "I don't know how and I can't figure anything out about him. It's infuriating!"

"I may not be the best person at strategizing, but maybe you should confront him again and see if you can figure anything else. Did you see his face?"

Tim scowled. "No. He wore a red hood that had lenses in them."

"Then maybe see if you can identify if he works for anyone?" Conner suggested. "How about if anyone has been caught under that hood before?"

"I have. But, Conner, the only other person who's worn the hood was the Joker when he first started out his career. And he would never approve of anyone taking his identity." Both males lapsed into silence. the smaller of the two was thinking of a way he could possibly lure out the man in the red hood while the other thought about what to say.

Conner broke the awkward silence first. "Are you allowed to visit Joker in Arkham?"

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Conner shrugged his shoulders as if it were only a suggestion. "Maybe there's someone that has a vendetta against him that you don't know about."

"Outside of me, Jay, and Bruce? Not that I'm aware of." He scowled and looked up at the hologram. Tim's blue eyes burned with sudden tears. "I bet he'd have this figured out by now."

Conner nudged him and stood up. "Come on. Everyone knows that you're the master detective. So what do you say? Want to go watch your girlfriend defeat Lagoon Boy and knock that smug smirk off his face?"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Tim exclaimed while his cheeks turned a furious pink. He stood up anyway and followed the more experienced hero up to the training room. It was a fairly quiet walk which allowed Tim to ponder more on everything in general.

Like Wally calling Dick a dog. He couldn't quite understand why the retired speedster called the dead hero that. There was nothing wrong with thinking two girls to be pretty and even dating both at different times. So what if Barbara had been his best friend growing up? Before Tim had approached Bruce and told him that he knew he was Batman, Tim was aware of the fact that Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon were more than just friends, even if the two had refused to acknowledge it. Even to a much younger Tim, it was painfully clear that the two liked each other and just refused to admit it to one another.

Then there was Zatanna. Tim didn't know too much about that considering they happened before he joined the Bats. But from what he did know, they lasted a year or two before some argument broke out. Tim was never told what it was about but he always assumed that it was because of her joining the Justice League. Tim didn't blame them for breaking up. Dick had only been fifteen at the time, for crying out loud! He'd only just taken on the mantle of Nightwing and moved to Blϋdhaven after an argument with Bruce.

He knew all about that. Everyone in the Bat family did, yet there was a quite agreement made within the family to never bring it up. It'd been a very touchy subject for Dick at the time. Even now they never mentioned it to anyone. Wally was the only other person who knew why Dick went solo. Everyone else just assumed that he didn't want to live in Batman's shadow anymore. That he'd wanted to become his own hero and had to change to Nightwing because Robin would always be associated with Batman in the eyes of society. When asked, Alfred even told Jason and Tim that he could hear their voices from halfway across the manor.

Dick had been that pissed about Bruce lying to him about tony Zucco's death and frankly, Tim couldn't blame Dick for that. He'd be pissed as well if Bruce lied about Tim's parent's murderer dying in jail when in reality he was being set free early. And even that anger is ignoring where Bruce actually thought Dick would hunt Zucco down and kill him. While the original Dynmic Duo's relationship was never fully repaired, the two had managed to ome to some sort of agreement to help Jason to be the best Robin he could be.

A surprised grunt escaped Tim when he crashed into Conner's back. He took a step away and found everyone's eyes trained on him. An awkward silence resided in the room for a solid minute before Robin awkwardly cleared his throat. "… What?"

Beast Boy raised an eyebrow. "Robin doesn't pay attention to his surroundings when he's thinking. Noted."

Robin felt his own eyebrow twitch in irritation before his training took over and forced his expression to become unreadable. He gritted his teeth, angry that he wasn't in the loop as to what was going on. "What?" he repeated, though this time his tone almost held a demanding edge.

"I asked if you wanted to spar." Robin jerked his head around and stared at Nightwing, who was leaning casually against the door behind him. Nightwing's arms were crossed and a smug smirk was on his face at catching Robin off guard, yet at the same time, the Team leader's face masked irritation and his eyes narrowed, carefully studying the Boy Wonder.

Robin felt his throat go dry for a moment as he returned the weary gaze back to his brotherly figure. Something was wrong. The way his shoulders were slouched indicated as much. "… Sure." Robin was vaguely aware that those who'd been training had stopped and could sense the lingering tension that was growing in the room.

Nightwing pushed himself off the wall. "Let's go then." He paused when he reached Robin's side and glanced down to smirk once more. He leaned down and whispered into Robin's ear, "Unless, of course, you're scared of getting your ass handed to you?"

Robin felt his lip curl. Everytime he actually started getting along with the other Bat boy, he'd go and say or do something that made him remember why Dick once worked so hard on the two of them. Their polar opposite personalities had them arguing half the time. The other half was spent trying to convince the Team that they were perfectly fine and could work great together. The not-so-dynamic dynamic duo struggled every night when they interpreted what the other was trying to communicate wrong. That left Barbara to do double the work to make sure no one saw the way they struggled.

"You're the one who's going to land on the ground," he smirked back in fake glee. In reality, neither knew who was going to win. It all depending on who could surprise the other with something new first. They supposed that that was what happened when two people train under the same two people. They get taught the same thing but on occasion the other was taught a different method of getting the same result.

Nightwing walked halfway across the training room and turned around to face Robin. Both got into defensive positions and the room went dead quiet. Both took a moment to skirt their eyes around the room. Everyone had cleared off their own area to watch the fight that was about to commence. Even Batgirl had walked in and was watching them through narrowed eyes hidden behind her cowl.

Both simultaneously began circling around the small arena and Beast Boy started a timer. After two minutes of just pacing, the changeling grew impatient and leaned over toward Batgirl. "What are they doing?"

Batgirl spared a heartbeat to glance at him. Her eyes were wide in awe. "They're waiting to spot a weakness in the other's stance. It's one of the first thing Batman taught me. If you find a weakness in the other's stance. If you do that, you've already won half the fight. The fact that both of them are this patient is astounding."

A mischievous look crossed Beast Boy's face. "So if I were to ask a question to one of them, they'd actually start fighting?" Batgirl's mouth opened to warn him not to do it, but he ignored her and raised his voice. "Hey, Robin! What walks on two legs and then infinite?"

The Boy Wonder in question whipped his head around and tilted it to the side in confusion. "I don't-" he cut himself off in order to roll out of the way of a kick aimed at his side. The fight officially started.

Nightwing frowned in disapproval. "You thought it was okay to just drop your guard like that?" he demanded in a tone that suggested he was pissed. Robin didn't answer but instead dodged to the left to avoid the punch Nightwing sent in the younger's way. Both dropped into a crouch and studied the other for a split second before launching off the ground at the same time. While Nightwing had gone for a tackle, Robin had anticipated that and leapt high enough so that Nightwing was below him. Robin then dropped onto Nightwing's shoulders and used his knees to wrap around his predecessor's neck and hang with their backs together. Nightwing grabbed Robin's arms and brought his foot forward so that he could kick Robin in the chest.

Robin's eyes widened behind the shades and he allowed the kick to painfully connect with his ribcage so that he could fall with it. He flung himself back to his feet before the computer could state that he lost and propelled himself toward Nightwing. Nightwing, who had turned around by now, caught the fist and barely had time to realize the fist was a diversion for a leg sweep. One foot was caught and he stumbled to regain his footing. Robin took advantage of the mistake and leaped into the air before raining down with a roundhouse kick. Nightwing flipped away effortlessly.

Robin found himself falling into a very familiar pattern. Punch. Dodge. Swipe. Charge. Leap away. Throw a birdarang. Lunge. Leg sweep. Punch. Axe kick. Block. Parry. Counter attack. Handspring away. It was then that something unexpected happened. Nightwing changed his assault at the final possible heartbeat and jumped over Robin's head before turning around. Before Robin could turn himself, two hands went under his arms and connected at the base of his neck.

Nightwing jerked violently and forced the boy onto his knees. Robin growled as he did so. Everyone in the room was stock still as Robin just sat there with a very irritated look on his face. Nightwing applied a little more pressure and allowed a smug look to cross his face. He loudly began scolding Robin. "This is your problem, replacement," he critiqued, not even bothering to hide the fact that he hated how Bruce made Tim Robin as soon as he became Nihtwing. "You're trying to fight like him." Robin's whole body stiffened. "But you're forgetting something. I practically am him. You can't trick me with little flips and acrobatic stunts."

Robin didn't anything and instead opted to just stay in the less than comfortable position he was currently being forced in. The room was an uncomfortable silent while everyone either waited for Robin to submit and lose the fight or retort something back. Dick's voice from one of their last lessons rang in his head.

"There will come times where you doubt yourself, or others doubt you. Or you just aren't having the best day and someone is kicking your butt. You just have to find the reason why you're fighting and focus on it. Focus until it's the only thing you know. You don't have to win the battle every time, but you have to make sure that you win the war. If you concentrate on your reason for fighting, both the who and the what, you will win the war. I can promise you that much."

So why was Robin a vigilante? Why was he fighting? Well, there were several reasons. But at this specific moment, Robin knew exactly why he was fighting. Why he had to beat Jason this time. Taking a quiet, deep breath, Robin closed his eyes and concentrated until he could picture how the rest of the spar would turn out. He waited until all his strength built up into his arms.

With a small roar of fury, Robin jerked downward, breaking the hold and ignoring the flickers of pain in his shoulders. While Nightwing was still stunned from Robin's strength. He connected a flying kick into Nightwing's stomach. The older vigilante doubled over with an, "oomph," noise escaping his lips. Robin didn't waste a heartbeat and landed a roundhouse kick to the side of Nightwing's head. He spun and landed on his back. He was trying to blink the stars from his eyes when the breath was once more forced from his chest from Robin slamming a fist into his chest.

By the time Nightwing regained his senses and stood back up, Robin was casually chatting with Batgirl as if the fight had never happened while the others were still astounded with what they'd seen. Those last three blows, as well as escaping Nightwing's hold, had happened in less than ten seconds. The other two bats turned to face him simultaneously.

Robin's mouth was pressed into a thin line as he observed the still-winded vigilante that was standing in a slumped position in the middle of the room. "You might have the costume, but you're not him," Robin spat out. Both glared at each other, not even trying to hide their distain from the other members of the Young Justice team. The air crackled with tension. "If you were him, you'd have predicted that coming. He taught me it." He turned and started walking away before pausing to throw one more barbed comment. "I guess he just liked me better if I know more from him that you do. And to think I started training with his after you did." Robin walked away, leaving stupefied teammates and an furious Nightwing behind.

Dick sighed as he once more dodged Tim's attack. The twelve year old boy was panting extremely hard and sweat was dripping from his brow and into his blue eyes. "No," he said, halting Tim mid-swing.

Tim hung his head and walked over to the bench in the Blϋdhaven warehouse. He grabbed a water bottle and downed it in a few, quick gulps. "I'll never get it right!" he panted as he tried to regain his breath. Dick let out a small chuckle and shook his head before joining the young boy at the bench. Both sat down and Dick pulled out his own water bottle. He took a few sips before closing the lid and narrowing his eyebrows in thought to think about how he wanted to word what he was about to say. Tim studied him carefully and noticed how Dick kept tapping his foot as if he needed to move in some way to keep his sanity.

After a full minute of –in Tim's mind– uncomfortable silence, Dick's face light up and he grinned a cheesy, completely him-like grin. "Why are you training to fight?"

Tim's jaw gaped. In all the questions he'd expect his brother figure to ask based on the expression from his face, that wasn't even remotely close to what he'd thought. "Um…" he stammered. "Because Jay isn't going to be Robin forever so I'll take his place when he becomes his own hero, just like he did with you? Except I guess he began training after you became Nightwing but-"

Dick cut him off by standing up and lifting a hand for quiet. "That's not what I mean." Tim became confused. What could he mean, then? Was he referring to why he was training now and not later when Jason was older and closer to being able to be his own hero? "What is your reasoning. As in, why do you want to become Robin?" Oh. Oh. That.

He didn't really have an answer for that. "Uh… I want to save people?"

A soft smile crossed Dick's face. "That's a start, but there's more than that. I can see it in your eyes. You just have to accept it and not deny it yourself. I know why, just as Bruce does. You just need to realize it yourself."

"I-I don't understand," Tim stuttered.

"Of course you do," Dick raised an eyebrow. He suddenly snapped his fingers and started running over to where he had his bookbag placed by the door to the warehouse. He pulled out a photo that was long and rolled into a tube. He returned to a very confused Timothy Drake. Dick unrolled the photo to reveal an old photo of the Flying Graysons. The family was laughing and an arm each was drapped around the backs of the family members in a giant, one handed group hug. Young Richard Grayson was in the middle while his parents were crouched down on either side of him. John's brother, Richard 'Rick' Grayson was on Mary's left while Karla and her son, John were on the older John's right.

Tim smiled at the sight of how happy Dick looked before it turned into a frown. "Why are you showing me this, Dick?"

Dick pointed at the picture. "What do you see?"

"You and your family having a fun time?"

"Yes, but not what I'm seing. Look into my father's eyes. What do you see?"

"Pride?"

Dick smiled sadly. "Exactly. This photo was taken the day before they were murdered. Now look at the whole picture again and tell me what you see."

"I see…" Tim trailed off as he squinted his eyes and allowed his detective skills to take over to try to figure out what Dick was getting at. "You're all proud of each other. You're proud to be a family." At Dick's nod, Tim continued. "There's no doubt of concern. You all trusted each other and knew you could get the job done without fail. And… there's something else. You fight because of them, don't you? That's why you're showing me this."

Pride shone in Dick's eyes. "You're very close. I fight the way I do because I want to honor everything they taught and trained me to do." He suddenly pulled up another photo. In this one, however, Tim did not see a happy family. Instead, a young Richard Grayson was crying over his family's graves. A small space sat between his parent's graves, presumably for him when the time came.

Tim didn't hesitate. "An orphan," he commented bluntly, thinking about how his own parents were dead and how he himself had briefly been an orphan before Bruce took him in. "You don't want anyone else to become an orphan like you –we–did."

"You really are a mini Bruce when it comes to detective work," Dick chuckled as he gently shoved Tim. Tim beamed with pride and he was pretty sure that, based on the sudden heat in his face, he was blushing."I fight because I don't want anymore families to be torn apart for reasons that you, me, and the other superheroes and vigilantes can prevent. No one deserves that agony."

"… What's this leading up to?"

Dick's face suddenly became very professional and serious. "You need to find your reason. You won't e able to excel until you do. Now, I need you to do something really simple. Think you can manage that?" he teased. Tim nodded, determined to listen and follow every single instruction. "Close your eyes." He did. "Take a deep but slow breath." He did. "Now concentrate. Feel deep inside yourself and find your reason. Why do you want to train now? Only when you find should you exhale. Do you have it?" he questioned when Tim slowly let the breath out. He nodded. "Good. But don't tell me. I trust you have it right. Now give it your best and hit me!"

Tim stood and narrowed his eyes to slits before lunging forward to throw a punch but tugged back at the last second. While Dick's hands were raised to parry away the attack that wasn't coming, Tim rolled between his legs and roughly kicked the back of Dick's knee. He was pushing himself back to his feet just as Dick fell to the floor.

Dick laid there for a second in a dazed sense of satisfaction. Tim walked into his line of sight and he pushed himself up to kneel. Two soft yet firm hands gripped Tim's shoulders. Blue eyes met, one pair beaming and the other alight with a combination of shock, happiness, an pure joy. "Excellent work. We'll have one more lesson for the night before I have to go out and patrol."

Tim nodded enthusiastically while a grin tugged at his lips until it physically hurt.

Dick squeezed his brother's shoulders."There will come times where you doubt yourself, or others doubt you. Or you just aren't having the best day and someone is kicking your butt. You just have to find the reason why you're fighting and focus on it. Focus until it's the only thing you know. You don't have to win the battle every time, but you have to make sure that you win the war. If you concentrate on your reason for fighting, both the who and the what, you will win the war. I can promise you that much."

Tim dipped his head. "I promise I'll make you proud, Dick!"

"I should certainly hope so!" he chuckled in a playful voice. He stood up and began pulling off his shirt and sweatpants to reveal his Nightwing outfit underneath. He jogged over to a rack on the far side of the room and grabbed his boots, gloves, and belt. "By the way, Tim, I was wondering. Would you like to stay at my apartment tonight? I'll tell Bruce that you were exhausted by the time we finished up here and I was not about to send you back to Gotham in that tired state."

Tim laughed. Nightwing may be almost completely serious, but that didn't mean that Dick wasn't a fantastic brother and mentor. In fact, Dick and Nightwing were practically two separate people. "Of course I want to stay over!" he exclaimed. "Dude, Jay is going to be so jealous!"

Dick woke from the dream with a start and instantly tried to sit up, only to be flung back against the bed as the restraints around his chest, thighs, arms, wrists, and ankles tugged him back. Too groggy to realize what was going on, Dick began writhing against the bed he was on in a desperate attempt to break free. He hated being in restraints since, well… forever… but mostly since he'd been murdered by the Joker because his hands had been restrained behind his back.

It was only when a burning agony pulsed through his chest did he fall back into the bed in a heaving lump. He began gasping as his body couldn't take in enough air through the pain and his head began pounding to the point that he was sure his head would burst open. A scream actually tore from his throat as he slammed his eyes shut. He bit his tongue to try to distract himself and only succeeded in tasting copper in his mouth.

He was gagging on it and spitting it up when a set of hands pinned his squirming shoulders –when did his shoulders start squirming?– while another set pulled his head up. He thrashed in the grip when a new surge of pain attacked his already flaring head, forcing him to go limp once more. He was vaguely aware of something forcing his mouth open and two circular shaped objects touched his tongue. He was about to spit them up when a familiar, rough yet trusting voice broke through the agony and to his ears. In was one simple word but it was enough for him to give pause.

"Swallow." There was something familiar about the voice that made Dick listen and he swallowed the objects. It was another full minute of sheer hurt before it ebbed away to a distant feeling that he hardly noticed. It was only then that he dared to open his eyes.

Blinding light made him blink furiously for several moments as his vision adjusted. Words echoed through his ears and he recognized them as belonging to Talia, Ra's, and Deathstroke. His vision cleared and he found himself in a white room with several machines. He followed the tubes connected to several of them and traced them back to various parts of his upper body. Medications, he guessed. He remembered what happened to him that caused this and frowned. His eyes found Deathstroke's and he looked at him long and hard. No one spoke for the longest time.

He opted to first. "I failed." He almost didn't realize that it belonged to him. So when was his voice so scratchy and gravelly? "I got shot. Did you…" He took a deep breath to replace the sudden lack of air in his lungs. "… finish the mission?"

Though he was no longer looking his mentor in the eyes, all occupants knew who he was talking to. Deathstroke scowled. He'd planned on talking about that part later and focus on Dick's recovery, but it seemed that that wasn't going to happen. "No."

Dick sighed and pulled at his restrained. Tired blue eyes flickered to them. "Why'm I restrained?"

It was Talia who spoke this time. "For exactly the reason that you were when you woke up. We were unsure as to how you'd react upon your wakeup. It seems that Father's judgment was correct. As always."

Ra's regarded her through observant eyes before facing the boy. His face remained impassive, but if one looked deep enough into his eyes, once could see concern he still felt for Dick and his recovery. He hadn't responded well to being resurrected, so how would he react when he learned that he'd survived a near death

"Guess I didn't die then."

Deathstroke raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. He was curious as to how this would play out with all the drugs currently in his system and distorting his emotions and focus. "What makes you say that?"

Dick opened his mouth before closing it once more. He frowned as he lost his thought and tried to focus. To say it was difficult was an understatement. When he tried to focus, pain pulsed through his head despite the pain meds that he was on. He winced. "'M not dead," he finally deadpanned.

That much was true. "You're lucky Talia is trained so well. You were almost dead by the time Ra's and I brought you here." What they'd all agreed not to mention was the fact that he'd lost over half the blood in his body by the time Talia had managed to get the gunshot wound to stop bleeding. It'd taken a full day for one of the assassins to clean up all the dried blood from the floor. Dick spoke again but it was too quiet for them to hear. Talia frowned and he leaned down. "What? You'll have to speak up I you want us to hear you."

Dick blinked slowly, trying to stay awake through the sedative that Talia had just put in his system. "Th'blood. They'll know-"

"They'll know no such thing. While Talia treated you, I went back to the house with some others and we took care of the evidence that you're alive. The house is gone. You're safe." Deathstroke wanted to kill himself right there and then. That sounded extremely unlike him and he hated it. He hated that Dick could make him say things he never said. He despised that Dick Grayson was the one person who could actually make him feel something akin to love –fondness was more like it– which was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. Not since Grant died. He cringed internally. "You need your sleep. We'll leave you to that. Training will continue when you're recovered."

They were gone before Dick could comprehend what had been said. He was still stunned at what Deathstroke actually sounded like he cared. He convinced himself that he'd imagined it and it was just the drugs playing tricks on him.

His eyes drooped but he forced them open as wide as he could manage. Can't sleep yet, he thought. There was something he needed to tell Talia. Something about the pounding in his head and the fire burning in his chest. Something about meds not working as they should. He strained his eyes to look at the white tiles on the ceiling. He started counting.

One…

Two…

Three…

Can't sleep…

Four…

Six…

Sleep brings unwanted memories…

Seven…

Eight…

Sleep brings back emotion…

Fifteen… no… that wasn't right…

Five…

Seven…

Sleep brings back Bruce…

Eight…

Nine… hey, that was right…!

Ten…

Sleep brings back their deaths… Don't wanna see'm fall again… Too much hurt…

Sleep won and his eyelids flickered closed. Screams of fear and the splatter of bodies being exploded open from colliding with the cold, hard ground far below echoed in Dick's ears. But over it all was Wally telling him to be safe. Safe on a mission that, somewhere in the deep recesses of Dicks mind, brought about a crowbar, a steel pole, a ton of red, and an explosion of yellow and orange.

AN #2:Did you all enjoy the brotherly Dick/Tim flashback I included?

As for Jason/Nightwing being out of character for the fight, remember; this is Jason Todd trying to pretend to be the first Nightwing. He is still his own person and so his actual personality is shown a bit because he accidentally let his emotions get the better of him. He's still struggling with the whole being Nightwing thing, after all.

Hey! Dick is okay! Sort of? Kinda? Not really? He's alive. Let's just go with that.

Was Wonder Girl in character? She didn't say enough in the show for me to get a solid foundation for her.

I tried to transition Tim's perspective to the dream to Dick waking up as best as I could, so I really hope it doesn't seem just out of the blue. I actually want Tim and Dick to have a sorta bond thingy in this so that's why that stuff happened, ehehe.

I guess I'll see you all next time I update/you pester me to update!