I need to be swift.

I'm sure they're all there already. They must have been downtown. Not fair, I started from the manor. And I was delayed... I was the first Boy Wonder, I am the big brother. I can't answer the call last! Well, technically, Barbara's the oldest. And she's got more to prove than me. But, at least, let me not be the last.

And... I'm the last. Fuck. As if my evening had not started in the shittiest way possible...

- "Growing old and slow, Nightwing?"

I'll make you eat that one in our next training session, Damian.

- "Sorry Guys, I was... chatting with Esme." Now that Jason and Barbs met her, that she's officially a member of this family - though she always was I guess, I don't need to use metaphors anymore. Plus, I don't have obvious ones to portray her now. So Bruce is gonna scold me.

- "Work before girlfriend. And no names.

- Well, exactly. Since she's not my girlfriend anymore, I wasn't sure how to codename her."

I heard that pin drop. Call it a surprise. Happy Birthday Bruce #irony, obviously.

- "But... You..."

C'mon Batgirl, don't dramatize.

- "Nice!" Does Jason know how to _not_ sound condescending? "Do you mind if I ask her out?

- You really can't show any respect, can you Hood?", Tim is always well-intentioned.

- "It's not my fault you're too young for her, dude.

- I won't always be, douche.

- Hey!", assuming the big brother attitude, though they exchange some offensive gestures, I want to focus on the mission at hand, "What are we on to this time?"

I understand, from the lack of answer, that Bruce is not indifferent to the news I just released.

- "Maybe. We should talk this over first.

- You're scared it'd get in the way?" He nods. Cold. "It won't Batman. We're parting on good terms. We just... didn't see a way forward. There's nothing to add.

- You seemed pretty happy to me." Of course, Tim, you idealize her. Not that there's much you're wrong about, she's close to everything a man could wish for. Well, men like us. But there's more to her. There's what she was before. Before we came around.

- "She lied." I can't help but gloom.

- "She lied to you?", Barbara asks, incredulous.

- "No. She lied to herself." I catch Bruce's movement. He wants to interrupt me. But you were the one who asked for it, old man. I'm facing you now. "She's been in love with him since day one." He gives me the bat-squint. "The only reason we stayed together is that she's too proud to admit he's changed." And I give it back.

That exchange of stares goes on forever. And none of the others dares cutting us off. But he was always the bold one. And I was always the pacifier.

- "She's all yours." I look down to the streets of Gotham. We had a wonderful evening out in that restaurant. We kissed in that alley. I rescued her from another maniac on that roof. We had a fit of giggles in that park. We made love in that apartment. "And I'm fine with that. Case closed." I turn my back on these memories. They're good memories. They always will be. And as I said, this relationship did not end on a sour note. I will share other joys with her. But I had to yield her to her past. One more day with her and I might have succumbed, given her that damn ring, even hoped she'd accept. I lean against the parapet Damian is sitting on and confront my crowd. If anyone has any comment, it is now or never. We all know I'm not gonna be willing to talk about it again. Though Jason might overlook that.

No one speaks up.

So Batman resumes.

- "I've been on the trail of something big these past weeks. As crazy as it might sound, it looks like The Roman and Penguin have teamed up.

- Falcone and Cobblepot? Seriously?", Tim asks for us all. Because it does sound improbable. These two have been stabbing each other in the back for decades.

- "Penny-one? Did you cross-reference that data?" When you work with Batman, you have to get used hearing him blabber to himself like that. Of course, since he called us on that family mission, 'Penny-one' made sure to activate our earpieces so we could share info while on the field.

- "Hum, I did." But this is not Alfred's voice. "Penny-one struggled with the pattern." My ex to the rescue. Great! "I dunno who encrypted that crap but he's either a genius or a full on cretin." With that choice of words, I can tell I drew her patience thin for tonight. "But it seconds your doubts. There's connivance.

- What are you up to, thugs?", Batman mutters, peering through one of the warehouse windows. I only notice it now. Wow, you need to sharpen your attention, Grayson. The lights in the building are on and we can hear the machines rumble. It's eight past midnight. These guys' discretion is far from astute.

- "So we're gonna work with the bohemian tonight?

- Jason, you know, you can be a drag." And I might be a little touchy...

- "Why, I just want to make sure everyone's happy with that.

- I only jumped in because I heard Nightwing's buzz and Penny-one having a bad time." She's hesitant. "But I'll hand over to him now.

- No, I need you on this." As the boss says... He certainly does. "You pinpointed their methods before any of us. You predicted their dispute. Did you see that coming?

- Not really." Batman's silence means 'tell me more', we all know that. "I mean, that was always a possibility.

- In a last resort scenario?

- No. More in a much-money-Gotham-control scenario.

- The Penguin's not the sorts who run for mayor.", Batgirl takes part.

- "And certainly not if it requires putting aside his... business differences.", continues Tim.

- "Obviously, they both have to benefit from this partnership.", Esme pieces it together for us, "Cobblepot wants the money. Falcone the stranglehold on Gotham. And they know, once they have that, they don't need to be friends. But joining forces would give them the firepower to...

- Take us down?" Bruce doesn't care about dying. Of course, he avoids it (duh) but if it came to it, he would give his life without the slightest hesitation to save, even one random life. But that we could be targeted, as a whole, as a team, has always concerned him. That's the dilemma of the Bat-family: we rest upon our individual readiness to die for others ; but we wouldn't let any of us die for the others. Because of principles. Because of what the Batman instilled in each of us. That's probably why he summoned us all. He's worried.

- "That doesn't make sense.", so now she's either trying to reassure him, or really drawing conclusions. "Getting rid of you lot, okay. But you keep each at bay from the other. Why unbalance something that works? No, there's automatically a puppeteer." Isn't there always? Pffff, I know what this means. We'll have to kick some asses to get to the minions to make them talk to collect clues to investigate to lead us to the big guy that Batman will want to tackle alone but we'll have to back him up anyway and... I know that job too well. And I still feel as much excitement as wariness. Despite the fact I broke up with my dream wife literally minutes ago, the prospect of fighting alongside them rejoices me. I guess that's why I keep on wearing those spandex. That and, it does grant me a fabulous ass...et on my opponent. Heh.

- "How do we proceed?" Jason is showing interest now. As I mentioned, it's about kicking asses. He already grabbed his two automatics.

- "I go in. I call you when it's clear." That little blood son brat.

- "Robin, I don't think that's the spirit.", I mollify him.

- "Nightwing's right." Thank you ex-hot-smart-and-nice-girlfriend. "There are 63 around the machines, 39 in the back courtyard shed and 12 patrolling. Oh and two dogs. Please don't kill the dogs.

- No one gets killed tonight." Because he's Batman tadaaaa.

- "It's really not fun hooking up with you.", Jason's contempt, again. Esmeralda retorts.

- "As much as I don't mind your ways, Red Hood, since your number of kills is still pretty low -

- Hey! Don't underestimate me.

- Oh, I wouldn't. Still, it's a 1 to 20." How does she do that? "Jumping in together, you'll be done in 4 minutes, easy." Convincing the inconvincible.

- "Challenge accepted.

- Where are they?", Batman requests.

- "Second floor, third window, south wall." These two sure are effective as a crime-fighting pair. Not that Alfred is any worse but they don't waste a syllable. It's impressive.

- "Red Hood, I let you handle the garrison. Batgirl, stealth mode on the patrol. Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin, neutralize as many as possible inside until we catch up. Penny-B, any advice?

- Careful with Carmine, he's trained in Japan, might even be able to protect himself. Also, Catwoman is stalking. I'll keep an eye and let you know if necessary. And... Penny-B? I thought we agreed on Agnes.

- It sounds like 'anus'.

- Fuck you, Hood.

- Wasn't it Djal?", Damian questions.

- "Djal is my software.

- Derived from the name of a goat." Tim has done his research. When it's about her, I am certain he finds the curiosity. If he was older... And Jason. I'm sure he will ask her out. Unless Bruce doesn't waste any time but I believe he'll chicken out. He shows no bravery when it comes to his relationship with her. Fuck these guys. She was mine. For almost four years, I had the privilege to share her life and bed. I watched over her. As much as she watched over me maybe. But, though that never gave me any other rights than kissing her, all of her, in a sense that makes me worthier than any of them. And I'm growing annoyed at these thoughts. Grayson, focus. It hurts too much right now. Don't.

I stride head on to the void and jump. Hopefully that will help them concentrate on the mission. Damian is by my side as I land. So they're following. In the middle of my running, I hear my earpiece whizz. The bip. It means it's a private line, that only I can hear.

- "Be careful Coilean."

Shit. I know she's just making sure our earlier conversation is not clouding my mind, but she's actually clouding my mind. I love her. I want her. I took the decision. I grasp the device and pull it out. It'll stay in my pocket while I kick these asses.

Four minutes. Easy. Just as she said.

By the time they catch up with us, there are only four left. They get so scared, the five Bat's spawns confronting them, that they drop their weapons and run for it. We let them. It's Gordon's job to find charges to lock people like them up. We all get an earful of screams, glass shattering, jaws unfastening and wood splintering coming down from the upstairs office Batman took on by himself. Ah, the sweet sound of teeth working loose. They seem to have fun up there. In a matter of seconds, the boss falls from the sky in an all bat-ly fashion, the Roman under one arm, the Penguin under the other. He throws them at our feet and releases his bat-grappel. I don't understand how they still think they can do something as conspicuous as forming an army within the city walls without us noticing and stopping them. Jason cracks his knuckles, Tim steps forward, Damian grabs Falcone's shirt and threatens him with a fist... We'll be home in an hour max.

53 minutes exactly. I feel on a schedule tonight! Barbara left us at Guypertot Square and we glided through the city skyline. From what I espied, Esme hanged up around that point too, not being needed anymore. She must have gone to bed: she's had a long night... As did I, as a matter of fact. Can't wait to slide under the covers myself. Shit. Which covers? Oh I'll have to sleep in my bedroom. Like... My childhood bedroom. All my stuff are in hers. I didn't sleep in there since I became Nightwing basically. And Jason is staying home, I gather. This case is bigger than we expected. We'll need to be collected and organised. And to stick together. Since this brother is a loner, we need to physically have him by our sides to achieve teamwork - let's not broach our efficiency here, thanks. It'll be nice anyway. To have them all around. But yeah, he took ownership of my bedroom when Bruce brought him along. So... Not sure where I'll end up sleeping actually. Not that there's a lack of guest rooms but... All I want for now is a shower. I wish she would join me. But I would not be who I am today if I went back on my decisions. I suspect we'll be fine from tomorrow morning and go back to a mother/son or brother/sister affinity. Something in the middle. Someone told me once that was my superpower: stay friends with my exes. Still, I think I'll drown this heartache in work and brotherly activities.

Damian can hardly keep his eyes open through his father's debriefing. So he dismisses us quickly and the usual race for the biggest bathroom ensues. That's the one between Bruce's and Esmeralda's bedrooms. It has a sort of Italian shower and a huge custom tub. I dunno why we always fight for it. I guess, as kids, we wanted to be closer to the 'parents', to be a bit like them, use their stuff, like kids do. It doesn't make much sense now but it's our way to show the others we're glad they're here. As boyish as it sounds. But I'm not really engaging tonight. I don't want to be that close to her. It would make the frustration greater. I cleanse my resentment, grief and sweat under a random scalding hot shower in the west wing and slump into the en-suite bed, customarily leaving my outfit on the floor. Sleep soon liberates me.

Only to force my eyes wide-open an hour later, at the most. I could swear she's next to me. Spend only a week with Esmeralda and you can be sure you'll hear her sleeptalking at least once. Live four years by her side and you'll know everything about it. It usually strikes when she's physically or mentally exhausted - which is, frankly, too often - but it gets real palpable when she's both. Problem with her is, you can't really talk about what she considers as a weakness, so you're left with finding ways to soothe her without her acknowledging. I'd go as far as saying Bruce is easier to speak with about his instabilities. It's not that she gets upset. But she dismisses the topic. You know. Denial. I recorded her, listed the occurrences, presented her with a fait accompli. I tried to speak the scientific language that she couldn't ignore. A bit before the Joker's pit events, her ghost activity had gone so bad that she would wake up in a pool of blood. OK, I might be exaggerating. Her nose and ears, each time, but also somewhere around her temples. It would run into her eyes and leave them bloodshot. And her wrists as well, on the worst nights. That left marks. She pretended she had scratched somewhere or gone too hard while exercising, I can't recall every dumb excuses she served me. At least the Clown's scheme helped us break the ice about that. But everything she said, in her nightmares, I'm the only guardian of it. It always starts with heavy breathing and stirring. She goes on calling her sister Amy, begging for mercy soon after. To the point where she cries out our names. I can't complain: she called mine most repeatedly than any other #misplacedpride. Bruce and Alfred had their fair share too. But I got woken up at the shout of Tim, Damian, even Jason, Barbara and Jim, a reasonable number of times. Through these, I had figured out most of what she described after we came back from the pit. I'm still unsure she realises the full extent of this bad dream thing though. After some experimenting, I came across my own ways to regain control over her nocturnal panic attacks. And right now, I think she could do with them. It's not that she's yelling so loud I hear her from the other side of the mansion. But I felt her in my own doze. As if... she was still needing me. I don't intend to let her down. Ever.

Before I know it, I'm straddling down the upstairs corridor and halting before her door. I hear her voice crystal clear, pleading forgiveness for some reason. I burst in, distressed by her last call for help. Bruce is standing at the foot of her bed, unfazed, vigilant. I ease my neck muscles, shut the door and join him on this watch. Of course, his room is adjacent. He must have come to check on her right away.

- "How long is it going on?", I ask in a whisper.

- "Fifteen minutes.", he replies at the same volume.

He looks very serene. I mean, I'm used to her relapses by now. And it still sorta scares me. Not apologizing but the girl sees dead people, for Bat's sake. Even if Bruce might have seen it before, I dunno, when they were children, he's not been exposed to it for some time. But he doesn't seem affected. Well, I can see he cares. He's here. And I'm the one who can read his unreadable glares: there's a hint of anxiety. But he remains poised. I'm guessing he's trying to channel his serenity to her.

- "How often does this happen?", he questions, kenning I must have been here before.

- "Depends on her work and emotional load. Several times a week. Between the tour and our... break-up, I should have seen it coming.

- Is there anything we can do?" So he doesn't know.

- "If it gets worse, yes."

I'm stopped in my tracks by Tim and Damian walking in.

- "What's going on?", Damian inquires.

Jason pops his head through the other door, the one between my bedroom and this one. So, his bedroom now I guess.

- "Is it still impossible to rest in this house?", he manages to articulate in the midst of his drowsiness.

- "Keep your voices down.", Bruce orders, "Esme's having a nightmare, that's all."

We all remain silent for a while, observing her. From an outside view, it might seem kinda creepy, I'll grant you. But I can feel, I guess we all can, the ambient protectiveness settling. As her mumbling becomes stronger and harsher, her agony reaches us. She sounds hopeless, forlorn. I want to reach out so bad.

- "No... No... Amy, please... Don't... No!"

I would already have appeased her by now, if I were sleeping next to her. But I was not... And she has to get used to it.

- "Don't... Don't get closer... No! Don't get closer to my house!"

Now, that's unexpected. That's awfully specific for a conversation with her phantoms. Bruce turns to me. He has seen me twitch on that one. He frowns. That's him probing me. She pumps up the volume before I can feedback, startling us.

- "I swear brother! Don't get any closer... If you hurt any one of them, I kill you. I swear!"

She's bending and twisting now, fighting the trance out. She wants to wake up. But I've tried that technique. It is _not_ the good one #nocomment.

- "Amy?"

Ah, are we back to normal?

- "Amy, what are you doing? Why are you on his side now? Amy?", oh oh, "Amy, what are you doing? No! Noooooo!"

The anguish of her tone tears my heart. I can't stand it. I might have chosen to split our duet up but I won't let her suffer like that in my vicinity. I rush forward, fall to the floor next to the bed, grab her thumb muscle between my own and my index, and press. Hard. Real hard.

- "What are you doing?", Jason demands, full of disdain.

- "I'm blocking the blood flow in her thumb.

- Why?

- It..." I look up, feeling almost ashamed for being the only one having that answer. "It takes her back one layer.

- What are you rambling about?

- The pain. If it's acute and located, it wakes her up just enough to pull her from the layer. You know.

- The layer where she sees the ghosts?" Tim is following.

- "Yes. Waking her up suddenly is really not working. Well, it works but it has... effects." I snort. Don't want to share that. "But a little sharp pain, like a pinch, or this, it recalls her to reality without waking her up."

As if to illustrate my words, Esmeralda is now relaxing. Actually, my method works so well she's back to breathing peacefully close to a slow snore. Bruce seems fascinated. I feel the need to challenge him a bit.

- "You never found the trick?

- She never had nightmares when we were children.

- Oh she had." None of us had picked up on Alfred coming in. Silly. He makes us jump. I lose my grip on her, which was timely since her finger was already taking on a purple shade. "Just not when she was with you." He chimes with laughing eyes towards Bruce.

I can see the confusion on my father's face as our butler ambles to the bed and sits lightly next to his little girl.

- "I used to squeeze her ear or pull her hair.", he addresses to me. I can tell the memory is as amusing as sour. I stay here, taking in that I'm not the only one sharing that much with Esmeralda. Not that I'm jealous. Who would be jealous of Alfred? But the stupefied look on Bruce's face doesn't let me forget what has just been said: Esmeralda didn't have nightmares when they shared their bed. I knew that they had. For all their childhood and early teenage years. Until he left basically. But I didn't realize what an influence he had on her. An influence that I could never dare hoping for. Which sustains the decision I took tonight.

- "So... We're not gonna worry about her psychopathic brother stalking on us then?", attempts Tim.

- "Why? You're afraid, scaredy-bat?", impeaches Jason. Oh these two are tiring. But I won't play my role now, I'm focused on her, and the truth about their bond is sinking in. Knowing its existence is one thing. Comprehending its significance, another. I'm back to brooding. So Bruce gathers himself to berate them.

- "Enough, you two. We're not going to plan anything without more data. And tonight's been busy enough. We'll let her sleep now and talk with her tomorrow to agree if and what next step needs to be taken." Tim raises an eyebrow, obviously skeptical. "Tim, her brother doesn't pose a threat at the moment, I can assure you.

- What do you base this assertion on exactly?

- On the uncountable talks we had about him as kids." There's no countering that. Typical. "He's just a dark figure in the corner. He's dark yes. But he's just a figure. And for now, he's just in the corner." Tim pouts but lowers his eyes. If the chief says so, there's not much to add. "So you all go back to bed now."

Nobody discusses, fatigue has worn us all. Jason wordlessly slides back to his room, Tim and Damian drift to theirs, Alfred departs after gently caressing my ex-girlfriend's forehead and I slowly get to my feet to return to my nest. I freeze in the doorway and cast a last glance at the woman who could have been mine. I can't help but notice Bruce hasn't shifted a bit. I infer but need to ask.

- "You're gonna stay, aren't you?"

He nods once, not going through the trouble of speaking it out or detaching his gaze from her. Tomorrow she'll wake up in his arms. Not that they'll have done anything. But that unbreakable tie is strengthening before my eyes. Soon enough, it'll be as if they've never really gone through all that growing up. They'll be happy. So I'll be too, right? Who knows.

I seal those scruples with the door behind me. That damn empty bed is appealing to me. Well I told him I would split up with her, didn't I? Done. Morpheus' arms will be the only ones holding me until morn. Falcone, Cobblepot, Bruce, Esme's brother, our perfect break-up... There's just too much to think about.