For this chapter italicized font means it is a dream
Enjoy!

Shortly after their conversations dinner was served, giving them only plastic spoons to eat with. A a mysterious looking pile of green/brown slop was placed in front of Dick; it tasted worse than it looked. He only managed to eat half of it before giving up even tho he is still hungry from his limited meals while in isolation.

After clean up of the common area the patients lined up and were walked back to their rooms in pairs of two. Dick and Sammy were escorted back to their cells by the black haired guard. The guard opened the door to Dick's room letting him enter first, Dick felt a needle being stuck into the back of his neck before the door closed behind him. The drug took effect before Dick could lie down on his bed, leaving the world spinning around him. His last thought before falling asleep was his family, bringing back old memories.

Nightwing watched over the streets of Gotham alone tonight. Bruce was off-world on Justice League duty and Alfred was out of town to visit his niece, leaving Tim all alone. Bruce asked Dick to watch over his little brother while he was away, but in truth Tim was watching over Dick.

Jason's death a few months ago was taking a toll on the eldest son. Dick's vibrant glow had disappeared leaving him feeling numb and empty. Dick's weight loss was immediately noticed by those around him, his once tight suit hung loose from his frame. On numerous occasions Alfred had tried to force meals and snacks into Dick whenever he came to visit the Manor, most attempts were rejected.

The dark bags under the young mans eye were growing deeper each day. Dick avoided sleeping due to the torture and pain of his dreams. Dick was plagued with nightmares, in which he witnessed the Joker beating Jason to death with a crowbar, while Jason called out for Dick to save him. In each nightmare Dick tired his hardest to save his brother, but the chains that held him in his dreams never broke, no matter how hard he tired he would always fail. Other nights were filled with dreams, or rather memories of him and Jason. Theses were worse than the nightmares; the memories would warm and comfort Dick until he woke up and his world would come crashing down all over again, worse than before. To avoid these dreams Dick would attempt to work himself to extreme exhaustion, hoping his mind wouldn't have enough energy to even produce dreams. Dick accomplished this by taking on extra hours as Nightwing.

On top of it all his family also noticed the increased amount of injuries Nightwing accumulated over the months. It was concerning that no maker how many cuts, bruises or cracked/broken ribs Dick had he still pushed to patrol every night. Nightwing was getting sloppy, maybe it was due to the lack of food and sleep, or maybe it was punishment towards himself for not being there for Jason when he need him, maybe the pain broke through the numbness and let him feel again. Or maybe a combination.

Even tho Dick was supposed to be taking the weekend off and watching over Tim, it didn't stop him from flying across rooftops. Anything to avoid the dreams. Tim was safe and warm in his bed in the most secure house in Gotham, which included their guard dog, Ace. Even if something where to happen Tim while at home his training in self-defense was quickly improving he could handle himself. Bruce had shutdown the idea of Tim becoming the new Robin, but Tim still practiced his skills in fighting, hacking, medical care and much more, preparing for the day to take his title as Robin regardless of what Batman said.

As Dick jumped across another ally he hoped that his little brother wouldn't wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night, which were common ever since his fathers arrest and finding his mothers murdered body less than a year ago. Tim would come looking for Dick if he was visiting, but if it happened tonight Tim would only find an empty bed. Guilt started to build, Dick couldn't be there for Jason but he still had a chance with Tim. Dick turned around and started to head home for the night, with each jump his cracked ribs screamed at him in protest, but it didn't slow him down,

"HELP!" but a cry for help did.

Nightwing looked down the alley from above to see four men kicking the crap out of a man.

"That should teach ya' from trying to walk down our block without paying the toll," sending another kick into the man's side.

Nightwing dropped down in front of the small gang, kicking one of the men right in the junk, flooring him.

The other three turned their attention to Nightwing, "Beat it spandex this doesn't concern you," the men pulled out a gun, and knifes.

Nightwing ran at the man holding the gun, posing the most threat. The man pulled the trigger; dodging the bullet easily Nightwing grabbed the man's wrist holding the gun, twisting it, causing the gun to fall to the ground. Using his other arm to pummeled his stomach; before Nightwing could finish his last hit a sharp pain came from his thigh. Looking down he saw a knife sticking out of his leg, a punch from behind, caused Nightwing to let go of the man, dropping him to the ground. Nightwing turned to his two attackers, jumping into the air he kicking them both across the face, rendering them unconscious. The pain from landing on his injured leg faulted his landing, sending his head into the corner of the dumpster. Nightwing felt blood run down the side of his face, he struggled to stand.

Managing to stand he looked around, he noticed the victim had run off during the fight, he reached for his belt to find some zip-ties to finish the job. A light *click* came from behind him, Nightwing moved quickly but the bullet managed to embed itself in his shoulder. Nightwing cried out in agony, he looked behind him to see the man he kicked in the junk holding the gun that fell to the ground earlier. Nightwing stepped forward to knock the guy out with a single punch but before he could another bullet lodged itself right next to the first one. Without slowing down he managed to knock out the armed man.

Nightwing was panting hard, while blood started to pool at his feet. He took the gun sitting in the mans hand and fired it continuously into the brick wall until it was empty, hoping a concerned neighbor would call the cops from hearing gunshots and would find these men. He needed to get home, he was losing blood fast.

Dick managed to get back to the Batmobile and drove back to the Batcave. He struggled to get out of the car, noticing the pool of blood he left on he seat. He stumbled to the medical table and pulled out the first aid kit from underneath. Dick pulled out the gauze preparing for the rush of blood flow once he removed the knife.

Biting down on his lip he gripped the handle of the knife and yanked out the blade, dropping it, and quickly replacing it with gauze. Dick started to get lightheaded; he ended up half falling to the ground, using the medical table for support.

"Dick was happened?" a said small voice came from behind.

Dick shifted to see 12-year-old Timmy in his dark green pajamas staring at Dick with wide eyes.

"Hey Timmy …. mind giving me a hand?" Dick didn't want his little brother to see him like his but he didn't really have a choice at the moment.

Tim walked forward and helped his older brother on to the table, and quickly looked him over, starting to pull out supplies from the first aid kit.

"You're shot"

"I noticed"

Tim looked down at the floor where Dick dropped the knife from before.

"Dick…" water started to fill the young boys eyes, but before Dick could reassure his little brother he passed out.

Dick awoke to a dull pain covering his body, opening his eyes he saw a blood bag attached to his arm replacing what he lost, Dick also noticed the small child reading a book in a chair next to him.

"Timmy," the boy head shot up. Dick noticed the blood covering the boy's pajamas, Dick's blood.

"Thank god you're awake! I did my best to patch you up but I've never practiced on a real person before, I thought I did something wrong –"

Dick cut him off, "I am sure you did fine Timmy , Thank you, we'll have Leslie come by and check them over later."

Silence filled the room, Tim looked away from Dick hiding his face,

"Timmy I am sorry you had to do that but –"

"I don't forgive you! You scared me to death," Tim's face was red with anger.

"Sorry Timm—"

"NO, you don't get to say you're sorry anymore, for the past few months all you have said is sorry. You keep getting yourself into these situations, and they keep getting worse," Tim was now standing up, trying to get at Dicks eye level. "I thought that I might lose you tonight! I need you Dick, don't make me lose another brother."

Dick went stiff, nobody ever talked about Jason, especially not Tim. Tim had only known Jason for a few months before his death, but the pair grew close quickly in that short period of time. Tears started to run down Tim's face. Dick quickly scooped up the small boy and held him close, ignoring the protest from his injuries.

"You're not going to lose me Timmy, I'm not going anywhere"

"You don't know that! You already look half dead as it is and you keep getting into trouble, and it's only getting worse," Tim was looking up at Dick. "I know you are mourning for Jason, but that doesn't mean you should stop caring about yourself. We all worry about you."

Dick never thought about how his actions were affecting those around him. He didn't want to cause his little brother any pain; he'd gone through enough of that in the past year with his mothers murder, his family being pulled apart and Jason's death. Dick pulled Tim in closer,

"Okay, I hear you. I will take better care of myself from now on,"

"You promise?" Dick looked down to be met with big tear-filled hazel eyes.

"I promise."

Dick woke to a prick to his arm, a warming and calming sensation raced across his body, clouding his mind. Nurse Darrow entered his field of vision.

"Dr. Grove will see you now to talk about your treatment."