Dick Grayson-Wayne has many regrets.
One of them is not preventing the death of Jason Todd-Wayne, his little brother.
His Little Wing's.
Never mind that Bruce and his friends say it's not his fault that his little brother was dead, that he couldn't have done anything because he was in space with the Titans.
He was Jason's older brother, it was his job to protect his little brother, and the fact that he was on another planet was not a decent excuse.
He failed in his duty to protect his little brother, and for that he could never forgive himself.
Dick knew something bad had happened when he came back from space and saw Bruce's expression.
His dad had looked so devastated, so broken that Dick's stomach had churned nervously, and the acrobat knew that whatever had happened would change his life.
When he had asked Bruce what had happened, the billionaire had remained silent. His father's eyes so reddened, so dull, so broken had moved to a corner of the Batcave.
Dick followed his gaze and what he saw almost made him vomit.
There, in a corner of the cavern, was a display case with Robin's dress bloodied and torn in several places. And there was also a plaque, with the words: "A good soldier."
Needless to say, at this last thing Dick had literally seen red and started screaming and yelling at Bruce, cursing and insulting him in different languages.
Bruce had remained seated at the chair, motionless, not even opening his mouth to reply.
Dick did not know exactly how much time he had spent shouting at his mentor, but eventually he had found himself clutched in two warm, muscular arms.
The anger faded and gave way to sorrow and a sense of emptiness, of guilt as Dick returned the hug with his father, hot tears falling on the Kevlar of Batman's armor.
Despite that fucking tag, Dick knew deep in his heart that Bruce was living through the worst days of his life.
Probably even worse than the death of his parents.
Because a parent should never bury their child.
That was the last thing Dick remembered before falling asleep in his father's arms.
The pain, shock, anger, sadness, disbelief and so on were too much for him to handle.
It was the next day that Dick, after waking up in his room in Wayne Manor, read the report on Jason's death and found out what had happened to his brilliant little brother.
The report was one of the most detailed Dick had ever read. He suspected that it was just one of Bruce's many ways of blaming himself.
A small part of himself broke into a thousand pieces at the very thought, unable to fully feel the pain his father was experiencing.
All his feelings left him when he finished reading the report.
There was only one left.
The most dangerous one, the one Dick was constantly trying to keep at bay and under his own control.
Anger.
Dick had never experienced this feeling of anger simmering ardently under every inch of his skin, begging him to let it go.
Not even against Tony Zucco had Dick felt anger on this level.
Because the fucking clown bastard was still alive, although he had been beaten so badly that he had been put in a full cast in Arkham City.
But that was not enough for Dick.
The Joker definitely deserved worse.
Dick knew that Batman did not kill, that he could not kill because he represented Gotham's symbol of hope.
Because if Batman started killing, Dick knew his father would have a hard time stopping.
And that was fine with him.
Dick could never ask his father to kill the Joker and abandon his ideals.
That was because Dick was the most flexible person on the entire planet. And this flexibility extended to the rules as well.
After all, the no-kill rule was Batman's and not Nightwing's.
For a moment the idea of sneaking into Arkham and killing the Joker flashed through the Bludhaven hero's mind.
It would have been extremely easy for Dick, after all.
Only that something drove Dick not to do it, and the acrobat never figured out what it was.
Months passed and a new Robin arrived in town. Dick promised himself he would not disappoint Tim as he had disappointed Jason.
No other Robin would die on his watch.
Yet something happened that ripped Dick Grayson's heart out, causing him to experience one of his worst fears.
Tim, his Baby Bird, was dead.
Just as Jason, his Little Wing, was dead.
Correction: Dick thought Tim was dead but actually his little brother was alive and well, albeit by a miracle.
But at that moment Dick did not know that.
The only thing Dick knew was that the Joker had killed his other little brother too.
Everyone has a breaking point.
And Dick had just reached it.
It was time to end the son of a bitch's existence.
How many civilians had Joker killed and would he continue to kill? How many times would Joker bring Batman to the point of no return?
How many of Dick's little brothers would Joker continue to kill?
As Nightwing began beating the shit out of the Joker, still using minimally lethal force, a tiny fog of thought had lingered in his mind, whispering to him that it was not his decision to take a life, even if the victim in question would be the Joker.
But then the fucking clown opened his mouth and
"Aw, jeez, I hit Jason a lot harder than that.
"His name was Jason, right?"
And Dick...
Dick had lost it.
The last line of coherent thought vanished from the vigilante's mind, giving way to untamable blind fury.
And no one could get out of Nightwing's rage alive.
Nightwing continued to beat Joker with all his might. He felt the clown's bones snap under his blows but Dick ignored them, continuing to beat the son of a bitch relentlessly.
His suit turned bright red but Dick ignored him.
It was only Tim's voice that brought Dick out of his rage.
His little brother was alive! He was not dead! His Baby Bird!
The joy and relief did not last long. Because when Dick saw the body of the Joker…
The Joker was dead. Dick had killed him.
The Joker's body was cracked and broken and he was almost unrecognizable.
And Nightwing began to feel sick.
The reason was not because he had just killed.
The reason was because Nightwing had no regrets about killing. And that scared him more than anything else in the world.
He had felt nothing, just a strange feeling of peace and freedom.
And this... this was not normal at all, was it?
Dick understood why his father brought the Joker back to life with CPR.
Surely it was not because he wanted to save the bastard's life.
Bruce did not want Nightwing, the hero who was saving a shithole like Bludhaven, the former leader of the Titans (although he often still led it), the one who often fought alongside the Justice League (and that one day he would become the official leader of the JLA), to be remembered as the Joker's killer.
Bruce did not want Nightwing's reputation as one of the best heroes in the world to be tainted by murder, even if the Joker was the victim.
Because the rumor that Nightwing had killed Joker would certainly have circulated and perhaps an arrest warrant would have been issued for the Bludhaven vigilante.
Regardless, whatever would have happened if the Joker had remained dead, Dick could never again wear Nightwing's cape with pride.
Nightwing means hope.
Nightwing means rebirth.
So yes, Dick understands why Bruce brought the Joker back to life.
And for that Dick cannot thank his father enough.
But sometimes... Dick wishes that Bruce had never saved the Joker.
