Everything felt warm to him because he was so cold. He sat on the bench in front of Amy's office, resting his head against the wall. Dick felt tired, more tired than he'd been in a long, long time. People passed him periodically in the hall, but no one said anything to him. Most of them were office staff who hadn't been there. They didn't know what he'd done. They didn't judge him, not yet.

I'm a killer. The thought repeated itself in his head. I'm a killer.

The image was one he'd never be able to forget, and he'd seen a lot of disturbing images in his lifetime. He'd been Robin and was Nightwing; his mind was full of disturbing, memory-haunting images from criminal encounters. But this one, this one, was caused by him. In his brief moment of hesitation before taking the shot, Dick had looked to see if he could shoot the perk somewhere, anywhere besides the head. Luck, however, was not on his side. When he pulled the trigger, the bullet made an impact.

As he had stood there traumatized, eyes transfixed ahead, people cheered, people screamed, and people cried. A woman in the middle of the room was hysterically yelling and crying while his fellow officers assessed the scene. Then, once they determined it safe, they momentarily celebrated as they freed the hostages and gave medical attention to those who needed it.

"You did it, Grayson!"

"You saved us. We couldn't have lasted much longer. Our ammo was running low, and no telling if he had more grenades. Why did that guy have those things anyway?!"

"Glad you joined the force. You're a good cop, rookie."

Everything they said was a lie. Even as they patted Dick on the back, his eyes were fixed on the makeshift fort. Behind it was the consequence of his decision. There was a man back there, or there "had been" a man back there. Only a body was there now.

The rest was a blur, and now he was sitting in front of Amy's office waiting to be debriefed. He wouldn't get in trouble. Dick had shot in self-defense, not just for himself but for everyone in and around the bank. However, it didn't stop him from feeling like he needed to be in trouble.

The door opened, and Amy walked out, followed by a fellow cop who'd been at the bank earlier.

"Thanks, Rifts. I'll see you tomorrow," Amy said as the other departed.

"Good job today, Grayson," Rifts said as he passed, flashing Dick a wide grin. But Dick couldn't smile back. Instead, he nodded at the man as he walked away. Good job? Doing what? Killing people?

"Hello again, Grayson," Amy said, bringing him back from his thoughts.

Dick could only hum in response.

"So I've pretty much got the whole story from everyone else. But I need your account for paperwork's sake. That and you were the hero of the day, so I can't miss your side of the event," Amy said, moving aside to let him in her office.

Hero. I'm not a hero.

Dick retold the events back to Amy. His mouth moved, but he was on autopilot. First, Dick recalled the incident that caused the picture frame to fall over, which he found out from Amy was due to a verbal insult. Next, he recalled finding Mendez, and when it came time to mention the shot, he stopped.

His eyes landed on Amy's desk. A vanilla case folder lay open in front of her, and inside he saw a picture. The picture had to be the robber. The man he'd killed had an identity; he was a person. What if he had kids? Where had he worked? Where was he from?

"And he…" Dick started again. With his eyes frozen on the folder, he couldn't continue his report, not with a dead man staring back at him.

"He told you to take the opportunity," Amy finished, speaking of Mendez. "You did the right thing, Grayson. I know it wasn't easy. But you saved a lot of people."

Dick blankly stared at her. He knew she was trying to comfort him, but her eyes were reading him. If he wanted to get out of here, he would have to pretend to be okay.

"I'll be fine. I just need to let it all sink in. So much happened in such a small amount of time. I'm overwhelmed," Dick lied.

Amy thoroughly looked him over as if trying to decide if he was being genuine or if there was indeed something wrong. His Bat-acting must have paid off because she replied, "I understand. Take the rest of the week off if you need it. I just want you back one hundred percent. You're proving to be my best rookie, Grayson."

Dick smiled toward her as he stood to leave. My smile is a lie, he thought.

"Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that," Dick replied.

"Be careful out there, Grayson," Amy added as he opened the door.

Dick thought of replying, but he needed to get out of her office fast to leave the picture behind. Besides, his mind had already reverted to dwelling on the day's earlier events. As he walked through the precinct's halls, he felt like everyone watched and judged him.

When he finally reached his car, he opened the door and sat inside. Dick didn't bother to start the engine, though. He simply sat there. He wasn't the same Dick Grayson who'd joyfully headed toward the bank mere hours ago. No, he was a killer now. He didn't even know the guy looking back at him in the rearview mirror anymore. But then again, had he ever truly known the guy in the mirror? Dick Grayson was always pushed to the back due to Nightwing.

So, who was Dick Grayson? He was a killer. He shot a man today. Nightwing would've never used a gun or let someone shoot another while he was there. But, on the other hand, Dick Grayson was a cop. What he'd done today was just part of the job description.

His thoughts tumbled over each other as he rested his head on the steering wheel. It was well past ten o'clock now. Did he want to go out on patrol? No, he needed the night off. Or did he? Maybe reminding himself what he truly stood for was something he needed. But would losing himself in his Nightwing persona be running away from Dick Grayson? Was he turning into Bruce? Bruce Wayne was all a lie, a façade for the people of Gotham. Batman was all there that was left of the former Bruce Wayne; he had buried himself into that lifestyle long ago.

Dick had promised himself he would never let that happen. He was a man that needed friends and companionship. So while he had met a lot of his friends as Robin or Nightwing, they always got to know Dick Grayson.

Bruce. What would he think about what had happened? Bruce. And that's when he remembered. Bruce's benefit! It was being held at the manor tomorrow. The last thing he wanted was to come face to face with Bruce. It was too soon. What if he already knew? Bruce tended to keep up with Bludhaven news to keep an eye on him. He knew Bruce did.

Tomorrow night. Could he be sick? No, Alfred made sure to remind him over and over. He couldn't get out of going without drawing attention to himself. The last thing he needed was to be the target of Batman or Robin's investigation of a missing Dick Grayson. Dick didn't know if he could handle his family right now, especially a questioning one. Their stares would be like everyone else's inside the precinct, judging. Bruce would deem him a failure, and then he would be disappointed. Dick would just have to play it cool and attend the benefit.

Once again, so simple. Nothing was simple for Dick, though. Tomorrow night he would come face to face with Bruce. However, it wasn't Bruce that Dick would talk to. It was Batman. Quite frankly, he didn't stand a chance at fooling his former mentor, but he was going to try anyway.