My name is Dick Grayson. Ever since I was young, I made a vow to uphold justice, and lived under the shadow of a dark knight. But the dark knight has his city, and I needed my own. It was time I moved out of the dark knight's shadow, and step up. This is my city. My story. And now, it's time for me to rise.

-Unknown-

"Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?"

Dick struggled to regain his consciousness. In fact, Dick just struggled- he struggled to move, to recollect what exactly had happened, to observe his surroundings. He could see that he was in a dark room, and he could feel his hands bound behind his back. Other than that, he couldn't decipher anything else.

"Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?" a voice repeated. Slowly, Dick began moving his neck this way and that, trying to locate the source of the voice.

"W…who…are…you…?" Dick hoarsely whispered.

"You'll know soon," the voice promised. "Have fun, Dr. Tetch."

Dick struggled to regain consciousness. But eventually, he could not fight the overwhelming feeling- the fatigue, the vertigo, the urge to just sleep…

-X-

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

When Dick opened his eyes, he was struck at first by how bright everything was. It was like he had temporary blindness from carbonite sickness- then again, he wondered how many people would understand what that meant. Regardless, in time, he found that everything had gone from a big light blur to shapes and colors. Outlines of objects, details that presented themselves. Before long- or perhaps it had been a long time?- Dick found that he was dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, and was staring out at a park.

"Where… where am I…?" Dick wondered to himself. Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind- an image of a redhead whom he knew well. "Barbara!" he exclaimed. Though still slightly disoriented, Dick began pacing back and forth, trying to remember what exactly had happened to him.

"I… I was on… a date… Barbara had shown up… there was someone else… Ch-ch-Cheyenne… Pepper? No, Freemont… And then… and then…"

Dick clutched his head. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't materialize in his mind what had happened at that critical moment- or so it felt like it was a critical moment. More importantly, he thought that he better search for the other two women- Barbara and Cheyenne? Yeah, Cheyenne. Barbara and Cheyenne. Could they be in danger?

Stopping his pacing, Dick began moving forward, trying to find his way out of the park. After a few minutes, he had stumbled upon the park entrance which, on a nearby bulletin board, held a poster. For some odd reason, he couldn't read the garbled words on the poster, but the image itself was clear as crystal: three acrobats soaring through the sky,. Two parents and their child.

The Flying Graysons.

"Wait… this… this can't be…" Dick muttered to himself. "They… they died years ago. And I'm me! I've grown up! And yet- and yet it looks like they're about to perform! What's going on!?"

As Dick was trying to make sense of what was happening, a man came up behind him. "Are you going to watch The Flying Graysons?" he asked innocently. "Haly's Circus stopped by a few days ago and they're set to perform tonight. I hear they're quite the spectacle!"

"H-Haly's Circus?" Dick asked.

"Yeah," the man confirmed. "Are you from around here? If not, I can give you directions."

"Where… where are we?"

"What kind of question is that? We're in Gotham Park."

"And… and what date is it?"

"Son, you're starting to sound like someone who has amnesia. It's-"

-Gotham, The Past-

Dick Grayson stared at the large, multi-striped tent that lay in front of him. It was the big top- the one where, as a child, he and his parents would perform their acrobatic stunts. Soaring through the air, the Flying Graysons delighted all. And yet… it seemed they were still delighting people, even though to Dick, this was supposed to be nothing more than a memory.

"Am I… am I really in the past?" Dick wondered. Stranger things have happened, and he knew that firsthand, but still, the concept of it being time travel… could that really be it?

And, supposing for even an instant, that it was time travel, that Dick had indeed gone back to the past… who put him there? Why? And perhaps, most pressing of all: what should he do?

Of course, Dick wasn't stupid. Studying under Bruce, he had the finest education available to him. He studied theoretical physics when other kids studied for their driver's license exam. Temporal quandaries flipped through his mind, and he knew what he ought to do: preserve the timeline. His timeline.

And yet… and yet, he knew what would happen tonight. He knew that Tony Zucco would come for his parents. Would cause them to die a horrific death. To forever scar his life, leave a weight on his heart that he'd never be able to lift. Could he really stand by and watch his own parents die once more?

No. He wouldn't let that happen. Damn his timeline. His mind was made up- The Flying Graysons would continue to soar.

Unfortunately for him, there was nothing he could really do until that evening, when the performance would begin under the big top's bright lights. He began wondering what he would do to pass the time, when a woman's voice asked, "Hey there, Pretty Boy."

Turning around, Dick found, walking up to him, a red head with flowing hair and glasses. For some reason Dick couldn't place, she seemed familiar. Really familiar…

"Hi," she greeted him.

"H-hi," Dick stammered, though he didn't know why.

"Are you going to watch the show later?" she asked.

"The show?" Dick asked. "Oh, The Flying Graysons? Yeah, I'm watching them later. And you?"

"Same here, though it seems I arrived here with a bit more time to kill than I thought."

"You're from out of town?"

"Kind of, yeah. Hmm… Are you a bad man, pretty boy?"

"I would hope not."

"Then, since we're both going to watch the show later, how about we keep each other company until then?" she offered.

Dick considered the offer for a few moments. He knew that he had more important things to take care of- find out what happened to Barbara and Cheyenne, figure out how he got back to the past, stop his parents from dying- but then again, what could he really do until later that night?

"Alright, you're on," Dick smiled. "And by the way, that's Mr. Pretty Boy to you."

Chuckling, the woman took the arm that Dick offered. As they began walking away from the tent and towards the rest of the circus grounds, she asked him, "Alright Mr. Pretty Boy, what's your actual name?"

"Call me Dick," he answered.

"Huh, really?" she smirked. "Not the best nickname to have, you know. Are you secretly some sort of jackass?"

"No, no," Dick reassured her. "My name's actually Richard, but everyone calls me Dick."

"I wonder why?" she teased.

"Well, do I look like a dick?"

She took a step forward to look at Dick and take him in. After examining him with a puzzled expression, she said, "You don't seem like a dick, but you do seem like a Dick."

"You're sounding a bit like Shakespeare with all those puns, Ms…?"

"Beddoes. I'm Amy Beddoes," Amy answered, introducing herself.

Having acquainted themselves with each other, the two began to wander about the circus grounds, before heading into a nearby district of Gotham. They browsed stores, ate at diners, and just continued to keep each other company. Dick could feel some sort of natural chemistry between the two of them, which really struck him; though he was the cool charmer to the outside world, he knew that he had more than his fair share of problems, a side of him his father knew too well.

However, there was still just… something! Something about this woman- Amy Beddoes. She was just as charming as Dick, and kept pace with him at whatever topic they were at. Who could this Amy Beddoes really be?

Before long, darkness had begun to descend upon Gotham, and the lights of Haly's Circus began to turn on. Noticing that it was nearly time, Dick and Amy began heading back to the big top. As they were on their way, however, a sudden voice pierced Dick's head- a confident voice, slightly alien and yet slightly familiar.

Dick! You better not be dead, Dick! it urged.

Why… why does that sound so familiar? Dick wondered. I know that voice…

Dick, you've got to w-

"Hey!" Amy commented, snapping some fingers in front of Dick's face.

"Huh?" he automatically commented.

"We're here," she said, gesturing at the big top's entrance. Surprised, as he didn't remember the entire walk to Haly's Circus being so short, Dick took a moment to take it all in.

"But wait a second, weren't we…?"

"You must've dazed off or something. C'mon, let's go in."

Nodding, though still slightly puzzled, Dick followed Amy into the tent.

A weird nostalgia struck Dick as he took his seat and observed the show. He still had clear recollections of the circus from his day as a performer; however, while he remembered the experiences as a performer, seeing them as an observer was a completely different experience. The ins, outs, and behind the scenes of the performing cast presented themselves to Dick's memory, and yet seeing what the audience saw- the spectacle instead of the machine- was a foreign wonder to the former boy wonder.

The night progressed in the routine fashion that Dick expected- it was all as he remembered it was the night of his parents' deaths. The crowd oohed when he expected them to ooh, and aahed when he expected them to aah. Soon, the time was rapidly arriving when the culprit would have tampered with the ropes his parents would be using. Focusing his mind, he made an excuse to leave to Amy and shuffled his way out of his seat.

Once he had gotten out of his section of seats, Dick slipped out of the tent's public entrance, returning to the outside. The moon hung in the night, a bright yet dark omen of things to come. Again, Dick questioned whether what he was doing was right: ought he really jeopardize the future for such a selfish wish? However, he dismissed the thought- he was powerless before, but now… now, he had the power and the ability to save his parents. It shouldn't even have to be a question.

Taking advantage of the lack of other people wandering about the grounds, Dick made use of the free reign given to him to infiltrate the behind the scenes of the performance. He clung to the shadows, knowing that though there weren't likely any people around to spot him, he still needed every ounce of surprise he could muster.

Dick was nearing the performer's tent when a voice pierced his skull once more. This voice, however, seemed more sinister than the previous voice: whereas the first voice conveyed concern, this voice was cold- startlingly cold.

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

Dick clutched his head as the question incessantly repeated itself, growing louder and louder. There was no escape from the question- it was as if a recorder had been placed inside his head with a vuvuzela-jackhammer.

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

Falling to the ground, Dick closed his eyes and tore at his hair.

Get out of my head… GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

STOP IT! STOP IT!

Dick, you've got to calm down! a new voice cautioned. It was neither the first voice, nor the second. It was-

Dick opened his eyes and saw, standing in front of him, Amy Beddoes.

"A-amy…?" Dick stammered. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I can ask you the same thing, Boy Wonder," she smirked.

"Boy Wonder?" Suddenly, it struck Dick: the reason why Amy Beddoes seemed so familiar to him. Why there was such great chemistry between them, as if they had known each other for a long time. It's because they had. "B-Barbara?" Dick asked Amy.

"Kind of," she replied. "I'm really more of a silhouette of the real Barbara Gordon. An object of your imagination."

"Object of my… imagination? But then, does that mean…?"

"Looks like you're piecing it together, you Renegade," she smiled.

"We're not in the past, are we?" Dick stated. "We're-"

-Gotham? The Past?-

"You've got it, Dick. We're in your subconscious."

-Dick's Subconscious-

"It's all beginning to make sense. Why I couldn't read any text earlier… how I went from walking with you to in front of the big top so quickly… and all these damn voices in my head…!"

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

"Who is this?" Dick asked Amy. "This voice in my head?"

"The first one or the second one?" Amy countered.

"Both, I guess."

"That first one sounds awfully familiar, doesn't she, Dick?" Amy hinted, teasing him.

"She? Hmm…" It took Dick a few moments, but finally he began to recognize the first voice. "Wait a second… is that… Cheyenne?"

"It is," Amy congratulated, giving him a thumbs up. "It is, indeed, Cheyenne Pepper."

"H-h-hey! I didn't mean that! I was disoriented!" Dick answered defensively. "But how can she reach me? Unless-"'

"I'm pretty sure you're gonna find out sooner or later, Dick," Amy assured him.

"And what about the second voice? The one that keeps asking me the same question over and over again?"

"That's… a bit more complicated," Amy answered sadly. "You see, I don't know who it is either. You haven't met this person yet, yet somehow their question resonates in your mind, so they must have asked you this question at some point."

"I haven't met them yet, but the question still resonates…? Wait a second… Before I lost consciousness and woke up at the park, there was a voice… There was a voice…!"

Sudden images began to flash through Dick's mind- the date that went wrong, the desperate struggle to escape, being dragged into a van, and then finally a dark room. A dark room, being strapped into some device, and then a cool, calm voice-

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

"I… I… Whoever he is, that's the one who knocked us out," Dick deduced. "I've gotta wake up and warn the others."

"I'd love to say that that's all you've got to struggle with… but it's not. That voice asked the question once, and yet it's resonating with your subconscious. Why is that, Dick?"

"Does it matter? I've got to help Barbara and-"

Suddenly Amy inches away from Dick's face. "It DOES matter, Dick. You're no help to anyone if you can't answer this: Why?"

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

"Why does it matter, Dick?"

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

"Answer me, Dick, why does it matter?"

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

"Why do you fight, Dick?"

Dick shut his eyes and pleaded, "Please… stop…" Weakly, he opened them again, and to his horror, saw that he was on top of a spire, watching his parents on a high wire.

"No… No!" Dick wanted to yell out, to reach out his hand and grab them, but it was useless. He couldn't move his body, and he was forced to watch as his parents' wire snapped, and they fell in slow motion-

The scene changed once more. Now Dick was on top of a man, a knife in his hands. This man's life was in his hands. The blade was raised high in the air, and all he had to do was bring the blade down swiftly, to embed it in the fleshy throat of the villain beneath him, to get his revenge. His future, all decided by the edge of a knife. He would-

He was now observing Tad. The misguided youth was on top of his father, lowering the crowbar in his hand. Then, all of a sudden, he raised the crowbar once more. Dick tried to extend his hand to stop Tad, but a Wing-Ding flew forth instead, soaring through the air and placing itself in his arm as the crowbar still made contact with his father's skull.

Why do you fight, Mr. Grayson?

"I fight… I fight so that others don't have to experience what I did," Dick admitted to Amy. "There isn't a single day that goes by where my parents' deaths haven't weighed on my heart. That's why I put away the bad guys- so that they don't have to leave the world one more dark, sad, lonely knight."

Dick stood up then as his subconscious began to grow brighter and brighter, obscuring everything around him.

"Is that the answer you wanted?" Dick asked Amy.

"I don't know. Is it the answer you wanted?" Amy countered.

"Huh. I guess," Dick answered, shrugging his shoulders. "This is a really weird experience, y'know?"

"How so?"

"I guess this is a very literal meeting with my subconscious, about an issue that I never even expected to have."

"Well, you can run away from your problems, former Boy Wonder, but you can't run away forever. Sooner or later, you have to grow up and face them."

"I know. So… what now?"

Amy looked at Dick with a confused expression. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? I mean how do I get out of here and save the others?"

"I don't know," Amy responded with a shrug.

"Great. Juuuuust greeeeeat," Dick said.

-X-

A man burst into the room that contained the pod where Dick Grayson was being kept. "Dr. Tetch!" the grunt reported. "We've got some compa-ARGH!"

All of a sudden, the grunt fell forward into the room, writhing in pain. Embedded in his back was a Red Arrow.

A/N: Hey everyone! BKA37 here! First off, I'm gonna rattle off my list of apologies. I'd like to apologize for not having posted last week, as well as for only posting Episode 5 this week. If I had more time, I would write more and post, but unfortunately the last two weeks have kept me terribly busy. It's no excuse, and so I am terribly sorry. Next off, Episode 6 will be coming next week, I promise. Now, I do need your help with a question: I anticipate on having more time next week to write, and so I'll be posting not only Episode 6 of Nightwing, but also a crossover special. In my original fiction on FictionPress, I'm a mystery writer, and so I'd like to ask you: Which character would you like to see crossover from my original fiction- my detective, John "Wolfe" San Miguel, or my phantom thief, known as "The Shadow"? Finally, I'd like to plot another crossover later this season- which superhero would you like to see join forces with Nightwing and co.?

A long author's note this week, but I've got some questions for y'all. Until next week, I hope you enjoyed "Down the Rabbit Hole"! Get hyped- Arsenal's back next week!