"Alright," Bruce said after he finished wrapping his hands, "are you ready?"

"Ready," Dick agreed, bobbing up and down slightly on the balls of his feet.

"You haven't wrapped your hands," Bruce said, tossing him the tape.

"Oh." Dick caught it, a bit startled. "Right. When I sparred with- Uh. I'll wrap my hands."

The end of the unfinished sentence was easy enough for Bruce to deduce. When Dick sparred with Deathstroke, he didn't wrap his hands. Bruce supposed that, given his new healing factor, it wasn't as important for Dick to wrap his hands as it was for Bruce himself, but even if Dick could heal quickly, that didn't mean he didn't feel pain. Bruce knew full well that Dick could still feel pain. And that meant that, no matter the speed of his healing, it was smart to take some basic precautions.

"Okay, ready," Dick said, putting down the tape. His hands were taped as neatly as ever, despite the fact that he apparently hadn't done it in months. "I think the real question is, are you ready?"

"Remember, this is just a test of your fighting skills," Bruce warned. "We want to see how your new abilities and your old memories mesh."

"I know, B," Dick groaned. "Come on, let's spar already! I'm growing old over here."

"Alright," Bruce chuckled. "Let's go."

They began circling, both of them studying the other. Bruce found himself wondering how the fight would go. In terms of raw physical power, he was pretty sure Dick outstripped him now, thanks to the serum Deathstroke had injected him with. However, he also knew that Dick was still a bit off-kilter from the return of his old memories, and Bruce expected that would have an impact on his strategy. He didn't know how much Dick remembered about their previous fights, but he didn't think Dick would be able to accurately predict his moves like he normally did. Then again, Bruce wasn't sure he'd be able to predict Dick's moves either.

After a few moments of circling, Dick lunged forward. Bruce couldn't help but smile slightly as he dodged him. Dick could be patient if he wanted to be, but he rarely was when it came to sparring. It was nice to see that some things didn't change.

Dick ran at him again, and once again, Bruce dodged. This time, though, instead of letting Bruce get out of his range, Dick whirled around and flung himself at Bruce, twisting in a way Bruce knew he could never manage himself and hooking one leg around Bruce's neck. He flipped Bruce down onto the ground, but Bruce rolled out from under him and grabbed Dick's leg and twisted it. Dick twisted along with it, then sprang back up to his feet.

"You're holding back," Bruce accused lightly. "We fought before, remember? I know what you're capable of now."

Dick hesitated. "I'm not sure that's the best idea, B."

"That's the whole point," Bruce countered. "You have new abilities. You should learn how to use them. They could be the difference between life and death in a real fight."

Dick still didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. Bruce didn't love the idea of making him feel as uncomfortable as he looked, but he also knew this was necessary. Dick had these abilities now, and there didn't seem to be any way to remove them. He had to learn how to use and control them. This was a good, low-stakes opportunity to start.

"Are you ready?" Bruce asked.

Dick closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. They held a certain determination they hadn't had before.

"I'm ready."

This time, Dick didn't wait to circle around, he just moved. It was almost too fast for Bruce to see, and it was certainly too fast for him to dodge. If he'd punched in the same movement, Bruce would have been hit, but he didn't, instead moving like he was expecting to avoid a grab. When no grab was forthcoming, Dick swung at him, and Bruce turned away from the punch. He did grab Dick this time, wrapping his hands around Dick's arm and trying to twist it behind his back. Dick wrenched his arm away with a strength he hadn't previously possessed and danced back, eyes glittering in a way Bruce didn't quite recognize.

"Good," he praised. "This is what I was expecting."

"Glad to meet expectations," Dick said in a voice that sounded just slightly off, then he threw himself forward again. This time, he just barreled into Bruce in a move so unexpected from him that Bruce didn't even think to avoid it. They both fell back, Dick on top of Bruce, and when Bruce tried to struggle out of the hold, Dick flipped him over and twisted his arms behind his back in the same way that Bruce had tried to do before. Bruce tried to get out of it, but Dick just pulled his arms tighter until Bruce knew he'd have to break or dislocate his shoulders to get out. Dick's knee was digging into Bruce's back, and normally, he wouldn't be able to hold Bruce down like that, but his enhanced strength was clearly doing him favors, because Bruce couldn't move at all.

"Alright," Bruce said, "you win this one. Let me up and we'll go again."

But Dick didn't get off him, instead pressing his knee even harder into Bruce's back and twisting his arms up more. Bruce frowned, trying to shift to relieve the pressure.

"Dick. You won. Let me up."

Still, Dick didn't move.

"Dick. I surrender. Let me up."

Still nothing, except a low growl that hardly sounded human. Dick was pulling Bruce's arms up higher and higher, and Bruce could feel them shriek with the strain. Any moment now, something would give.

If Dick wasn't responding to his name, then maybe...

"Renegade! Release me!"

In a heartbeat, Dick leapt back, releasing Bruce instantly. When Bruce twisted around and sat up to face him, he saw a glimpse of fear in Dick's eyes, and then, slowly, the realization set in. The fear turned to horror.

"Oh god."

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked. It was a stupid question. Dick looked like he was going to be sick.

Dick was shaking, although Bruce wasn't sure he realized that. "I- I-"

Bruce took a step forward, and Dick quickly stumbled back. Bruce stilled, holding his hands up in front of him.

"It's alright, chum. You're safe."

"I'm safe?" Dick repeated hysterically. "Bruce, I just almost broke your arms. I- I-"

He stumbled backwards another step and fell, landing hard on his back. Bruce took another step forward before he could help himself, but he stopped before he got any closer. Dick had reacted badly to him moving closer before, and this whole thing had clearly triggered some bad memories from Dick's time with Deathstroke. If Dick didn't feel safe…

But given his words, it wasn't that Dick felt unsafe, it was that he felt he was unsafe. Bruce wasn't about to let that stand.

"Dick," he said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "I'm alright."

Dick shook his head. "I- I wasn't-"

"Dick," Bruce said slowly, hating himself for the question he was about to ask even as he asked it, "what was it like when you sparred with Deathstroke?"

Dick sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. "Violent. We both have our healing factor, so we didn't hold back when we sparred. I-If I'd even managed to get Deathstroke into that hold, he would have dislocated his shoulders to get out of it. And he probably would have…"

Dick trailed off before finishing the sentence, but Bruce could imagine where it was going. He viciously, viciously hated Deathstroke for turning sparring into this. He used sparring as a way to connect with his children, a way to have fun with them. Deathstroke had turned it into something brutal.

Deathstroke, from the few details Dick had given, seemed to have made a lot of things brutal.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said, sitting down across from Dick, far enough away that Dick could get away from him easily.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Dick mumbled. "You had no reason to think I was alive. It wasn't your fault."

"I wasn't apologizing about that," Bruce said. "I'm sorry that I asked you to tap into Renegade."

Dick flinched. "I don't want to be him," he whispered.

"You aren't," Bruce told him, desperately longing to reach for Dick but not sure how it would be received. "You are Dick Grayson. You are Nightwing. You are my son, and I am proud of you."

Dick buried his face in his knees, his shoulders shaking, and Bruce threw caution to the wind and gathered him up in his still-aching arms. For a moment, Dick went stock-still and Bruce thought he'd miscalculated, but then Dick wrapped his arms around Bruce and clung to him tightly. It was a bit too tight, honestly, but Bruce could bear it if it helped Dick.

He could feel the growing damp patch on his shoulder, where Dick had buried his face. He hoped that meant this was helping.

"I missed you," Dick breathed through sobs. "I missed you."

Bruce lowered his head and pressed a kiss into Dick's hair. "I missed you too, chum. So, so much."

I will never let you go again.