It was a few days after Bruce officially cleared Dick for sparring among the family that Duke went to him. He knew Dick had been sparring with Bruce and Cass, even before Bruce cleared him to spar with everyone, and he'd talked to Cass to check that his plan wasn't a stupid one. She'd smiled at him and told him it wasn't, so here he was, watching Dick swing through a trapeze routine. It was good to see him on the trapeze again; Duke hadn't directly been part of Tim's whole investigation, but he knew the results of it. He hadn't even realized how weird it had been not to see Dick on the trapeze until he went back up on it.

But Duke wasn't here for the trapeze, so he waited until Dick was done with his routine, then he called up, "Hey Dick, got a minute?"

Dick flipped down to the Cave floor in a movement that Duke was pretty sure was dangerously stupid if you weren't a) a lifelong acrobat and b) shot up with a superpower serum. He grinned at Duke as he straightened.

"For you, I've got as many minutes as you need. What's up, Duke?"

"Well," Duke said, "back when we first found you, you promised me escrima lessons. I don't know if you remember, but-"

"I... think I remember," Dick said slowly. "And I trust you, either way. Do you want to cash in?"

"Well, no time like the present, right?" Duke asked. "I mean, if you've got time now."

"Duke, I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't have a huge amount to do right now," Dick said dryly. "I've got time for escrima lessons. Grab your sticks."

Duke obediently grabbed his escrima sticks from the weapon rack. Dick, to his confusion, stepped onto the training mat empty-handed and gestured for Duke to join him.

"Show me what you can do. Come at me."

"Are you sure?" Duke asked tentatively. "You don't have any sticks or anything."

"Most of the people you'll be fighting won't have escrima sticks either," Dick replied. "I'll use the sticks to show you some moves later, and we can fight with both of us using them if you want, but for now, I want to know where you are."

Because, of course, Duke had continued training in the six months when they'd all thought Dick was dead, so he was better than he had been before. Dick couldn't just pick up where they'd left off. That was, assuming he remembered where they'd left off. It was very possible he didn't.

Dick hadn't addressed all of Duke's concerns, though, so he asked, "What if I hurt you?"

Dick snorted. "You're not going to hurt me, Duke. Even if you do, it won't be for long. Don't worry about it."

"Dude, even if you can heal, I don't want to hurt you."

Some sort of expression flickered across Dick's face, too fast to read. "This is the best way to learn." He hesitated, then added, "Would it make you feel better if I put padding on my forearms? I'll probably be catching most of the hits there."

"Yeah, that would be better," Duke said with some relief.

Dick nodded. "Be right back."

The others, Duke knew, were worried about Dick's newfound lack of self-preservation. He'd always been self-sacrificing, sometimes to an extent that one could call a lack of self-preservation, but it had always been to protect someone else. If Dick had thrown himself in front of Duke to take a blow meant for him, Duke wouldn't have been surprised, and he probably wouldn't have said too much about it, at least now. But this... There was no reason for Dick to hurt now. It was entirely avoidable, and Duke wanted to avoid it. He didn't think it was great that Dick didn't seem to care at all.

"Alright, how's this?" Dick asked, coming back with pads strapped to his forearms. They looked like they'd absorb at least most of the impact from Duke's escrima sticks, and Duke doubted he'd get anything better out of Dick, so he nodded.

"Looks good. You ready?"

"I've been ready for longer than you," Dick teased lightly. "Come at me."

Duke swung at Dick, not putting his full force behind the blow. Dick caught the escrima stick in midair and shot Duke a look.

"I know you can do better than that. Come on, come at me!"

Duke readjusted his grip on the sticks, then he swung at Dick again, this time harder. Dick grinned as he took the impact on one of the forearm pads.

"That's more like it."

"Should I stick to just using the sticks?" Duke asked as he swung again. "Or should I..." He concentrated for a moment, and the lights flickered.

"Whatever you want," Dick replied. "I can only advise you directly with the escrima sticks, but I bet we can come up with some good ways for you to use your powers in combat."

"Are you going to fight back?" Duke asked, swinging again.

"Later," Dick replied. "For right now, I want to see where you are. This will get harder as we go, trust me."

"Is that a promise or a threat?"

Dick grinned. "Does it have to be one or the other?"

"Would you consider yourself to be a harsher or softer trainer than B? Just for reference?"

"I-" Dick faltered suddenly, and he almost didn't block Duke's swing. Duke took a quick step back, letting his escrima sticks fall.

"Dick?"

"Sorry," Dick said, shaking his head. "Just... having some trouble keeping memories straight."

"Are you okay?" Duke asked hesitantly. "We don't have to do this now if you don't want to."

"No, I'm good," Dick said, rolling his shoulders and settling into a ready position. "Come at me."

Duke swung at Dick, a little tentatively, and at Dick's unimpressed look, he swung again, harder. Dick blocked the blow with his forearm.

"Let's go a little faster. Show me how fast you can go."

"You sure?"

"Duke, I'm literally enhanced with superhuman speed. You won't be too fast for me. Go."

Duke sped up and up and up, until he and Dick were moving around the training mat so quickly Duke was pretty sure anyone watching would have trouble discerning their movements. Dick laughed, his eyes bright.

"That's what I'm talking about! Now, I'm going to start going on the offensive, but I'll build it up slowly. And don't worry about hurting me when you fight back. I need to know what you can do."

Duke wanted to ask if Dick was sure, but he was pretty sure Dick was. "Okay," he said instead, a bit dubiously.

Dick swung at his head, and Duke ducked under his fist. "Whoa!"

"I warned you," Dick said, grinning. "Remember. No holds barred."

He swung at Duke again, and Duke jumped out of the way, then he swung at Dick's outstretched arm. He hit the inner elbow, and Dick moved with the blow even though Duke was pretty sure he could have withstood it easily.

"Good! Keep going."

Duke tried to aim most of his blows at Dick's protected forearms, but he did land a few blows on other places, including the back of Dick's knee and one two-handed strike at his hip. That one actually got Dick to grunt out a surprised huff, but he didn't seem to be too hurt from it. Duke hated to hurt his brother, but he had to admit, the sparring was already helpful. Dick had stopped him twice to correct his form, and his quick movements had forced Duke to be more creative than usual. As long as Dick's eyes were still bright, Duke would keep going.

"Alright, pause," Dick called out after a few moments, and Duke took a step back, breathing hard. Dick seemed entirely unruffled. "I want to show you something. Can I have the sticks for a minute?"

Duke handed the sticks to Dick, and Dick twirled them in his hands twice before nodding and heading over to one of the training dummies.

"Okay," he told Duke, "so one of the most vulnerable places on the human body is the neck. If you take the stick and jab" - he demonstrated, jabbing forward at the dummy's neck - "then you can hit the throat and-"

Dick stopped suddenly, and his face went white. "Dick?" Duke asked gently. "Dick, are you okay?"

Dick shoved the escrima sticks at Duke, and Duke realized his hands were shaking violently. "I- Forget I just- I need to go."

"Wait- Dick!"

But Dick was already halfway up the stairs. Duke watched him disappear, then he sighed and put away his escrima sticks. He got himself a glass of water and drank it slowly, then he splashed some water on his face. Then, he went up the stairs to find Dick.

He'd known he wouldn't be able to catch up with Dick, and he didn't think Dick would appreciate being chased. But now Dick had had a few minutes, and Duke wasn't going to leave him alone any longer, not when he still didn't know what was wrong.

The first place Duke checked was Dick's bedroom, and to his relief, Dick seemed to be in there. The door was slightly ajar, so Duke knocked on it and pushed it open a little more.

"Dick?"

He could hear the water running in the ensuite bathroom, so Duke cautiously approached it. "Dick? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Dick said, but his voice wobbled just the slightest bit. "Don't worry about me."

Oh, I'm definitely worried, Duke thought, but he knew Dick wouldn't respond well to that. "Are you sure? You ran out of our training pretty fast."

"I don't think I'm the best teacher for you," Dick said. "You should talk to someone else."

Duke blinked. "You were great, though! And you have the most experience with escrima sticks."

The water shut off. Dick stepped out of the bathroom, his face pale and his eyes haunted. He was toweling off his hands, which looked red and raw.

"The move I was about to teach you? When I was saying to aim for the throat? That move can be fatal, Duke. It was one I used with Deathstroke." Dick swallowed visibly, and Duke watched the bob of his throat. That was one of the most vulnerable places on the human body, and a poorly-aimed blow could result in death. "So I don't think I'm a good teacher, because I don't want to teach you how to kill people."

"Then don't," Duke said. "You stopped yourself this time. You'll stop yourself if it happens again."

"I shouldn't have to stop myself at all. If I'm even starting to teach you things like that, I'm clearly not ready to spar with anyone, let alone teach anyone."

"Cass and Bruce think you're ready."

"Cass and Bruce are wrong."

Duke sighed. "Are you going to kill me?"

Dick's eyes went wide, and he dropped the towel in his hands. "Of course not!"

"If we were sparring, would you go for a fatal hit?"

"No, but-"

"And do you trust me?"

"Duke-"

"If you trust me, then trust that I'll be okay if we train together," Duke said. "Trust that I can handle myself. If you want, I can even cut in if you're teaching me something that seems like it could maybe be fatal. Would that make you feel better?"

"You shouldn't have to do that," Dick said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't-"

"Dick. You were kidnapped and brainwashed. If one of us were in your place, would you judge us? Hell, Jason sort of was, when he came back, and Damian has killed people, and-"

"Okay, you've made your point." The slightest hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Dick's mouth, which Duke took as a triumph. "Anyone will tell you I can be a bit of a hypocrite. Babs is always yelling at me for holding myself to an impossible standard."

"So maybe don't do that, then," Duke replied, his voice blasé enough that Dick coughed out a startled laugh. Duke mentally marked down another point for himself. "Cut yourself some slack, and keep training with me."

"You're sure you want me to?"

"How many times have I asked you in the past half hour?"

"No holds barred today, I see."

Duke shrugged. "I call them like I see them."

And he saw Dick, even if he wasn't sure he fully understood everything he saw. He knew, though, that if he agreed with Dick's most self-deprecating statements, if he'd agreed that Dick was a murderer with no business teaching anyone anything, then it would have crushed Dick, perhaps irrevocably. It was a good thing he didn't agree with him at all.

"So," Duke continued, "training again tomorrow?"

Dick smiled at him, and if it was bit shadowed, at least it was there. Duke was pretty sure he could help Dick to brighten it. He was good at that.

"I'm looking forward to it."