Dick stared outside of the giant glass window of the Watchtower, observing the blue orb of the Earth below him.

It had been four days since he had woken up in the infirmary and so far, nothing significant had happened. Dick's teammates had demanded to see him the second he woke up, but he had asked to have some time to himself for a little while. It was hard enough to wrap his head around everything that happened to him, and he didn't need the stress of interacting with his teammates on top of that. And without the chaos that they had brought along with them wherever they went, Dick's recovery remained uneventful. And for once, he appreciated the calmness and wasn't itching to get back into his costume again. In fact... He was beginning to believe that his super hero days were over.

He didn't tell Bruce that, but he had a feeling that the man already knew.

In the four days that Dick had spent recovering, the only eventful thing that happened was when he told Bruce that he was not the real Dick Grayson. He thought about telling him about the programming on top of that, but decided that he hurt the man enough without adding that to the load on his shoulders. So he left it at that.

Oddly enough, Bruce wasn't angry with him. He even told him that it didn't change the way he saw him, that Dick would always be his son. But despite those reassurances, Bruce immediately began to distance himself from his ward and started the search for the original Dick Grayson. Dick would have felt saddened by this if it wasn't for the number feeling in his chest that prevented him from experiencing any sort of emotion aside from tiredness. He just let Bruce do what he wanted... Who was he to stop him from finding his real ward?

And now... Now Dick was thinking about the future. He knew that he had no place in the Team anymore, not when he had technically killed Wally and had been secretly spying on the entire League for the last six months. That wasn't a problem; he didn't want to be a hero anyways. The issue was...

Without a cape on his shoulders, what was he?

That was what had been troubling him the most. Not the nightmares that kept him up every night, the pitying looks he received from the few people who saw him, or the increasing feeling of loneliness. No, what truly bothered him was his lack of purpose. He wasn't Dick Grayson, nor was he Robin. Without a domino mask over his eyes, he still had no identity. Now that he wasn't a hero, he couldn't even return to a normal civilian life. Not with his mentor hunting down the original Dick Grayson. The truth was... Dick had no place on the Earth.

That was part of the reason why he was avoiding contact with everyone else. His friends would tell him that his life still mattered. Bruce and Alfred would tell him that he still had a place in their home, even if they were able to find the real Dick Grayson. But Dick didn't want them to say such empty words to him, he didn't want them to give him false hope. A damaged copy is nothing compared to the brilliant original.

And boy, was Dick damaged. Not only did he have too many scars and healing wounds to count, but he was mentally and emotionally damaged as well. After Deathstroke stripped him of his programming, Dick no longer felt the strong emotions that he once had. The bond he had created with his mentor was completely gone, and now whenever he saw Bruce, it felt like he was talking to a stranger all over again. When Alfred visited him with a tray of cookies, Dick could only stare at him. He had forgotten that Alfred even existed!

Dick quickly came to the conclusion that he couldn't feel. Well, no, that wasn't quite right. He was able to feel a small amount of emotion, but it felt like they were becoming weaker every day. How long would it take before he no longer felt anything at all? His friends, his family... they didn't deserve to deal with that, especially not since they would have the real Dick Grayson soon. Wouldn't it be easier for everyone if he just left?

He continued to watch the Earth below him, sighing heavily. The scars on his wrist itched as he considered his options. It would be so easy if he just finished what he had started so long ago... If he just killed himself and let the world continue on without him. Who would miss him? The only people who cared about him would be getting the real Grayson soon. So even if they felt saddened over his death, they would get over it soon.

But then again... Dick made a promise to Bruce. And even if his guardian was in a hurry to replace him with a better version of him, it didn't nullify the promise Dick had made to him. He couldn't hurt himself... He could at least do that for the man that he had nearly murdered. It would never be enough to make up for what he had done, but it was a start.

That didn't mean that he should continue to stick around, though. One thing was for sure: he had overstayed his welcome.

...

...

...

Even after he had left the Tower, the Earth continued to spin, unaffected by his decision.

xXx (About an hour later) xXx

Bruce stared at the note in his hands, mouth dry as he read it again for the third time in a row. The words on the piece of paper were barely able to register in his mind, he was too shocked by its suddenness to fully comprehend what it said.

"Dear Bruce," it read. "Guess you figured out that I was missing, huh? Don't worry about it, I'm fine. Seriously, I have every intention of keeping the promise that I have made to you, even if you are no longer as concerned for my well-being as you used to be... But it's okay. I get it. I didn't write this note to guilt trip you.

"Listen, there's something going on with me right now, and there's no way I'm going to let you guys get involved with it. I think running away was the smartest solution to it. Oh, and don't even think about trying to look for me either. I know how you are... and I know how to avoid you. But who knows, maybe we'll meet each other again? I kinda hope so... Even if I'm not who I thought I was, a part of me still considers myself to be your son. It's pretty selfish of me, right? Ha... Chances are, we never will see each other again, so don't worry about that either. All you have to concern yourself with is the real Dick Grayson now. I won't get in your way.

One last thing: if there is ever a time where we do meet again, but it's because of something Deathstroke has done to me... I would like you to remind Kaldur of his promise to me. Don't worry about what that is, he'll know when you bring it up.

Well, that's it. Darrell, Bruce.

-Dick? Robin? Whatever. You know who this is."

After a few minutes of blankly staring at the paper, Bruce gently set the note on the chair that he had found it, his heart beating loudly in his chest. "No..." He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. "...I have to find him." The adoption papers he held in his other hand fell to the floor as he left the room to alert the rest of the Justice League.

But he had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to find him. Dick was gone.