A/n: So it was a good idea that I wrote all of these beforehand this time because this chapter alone was written and then rewritten over the course of a week maybe? It just felt like it lost the plot a little (there's a plot? No there's not, plot = point here) so I rewrote it to add a bit more whump. Still not sure of it but oh well.

"Dude..."

Dick ignored Wally, not even bothering to wonder how or why the speedster was here. He had too much work to do, and he couldn't afford to get distracted if Wally was looking to fight him - again - about pulling Artemis back. He had enough to deal with concerning the Reach and a recent Arkham breakout that he needed to deal with as Batman soon.

"Dick," Wally tried again, voice a little firmer.

He sighed, finishing typing the sentence before turning to raise an eyebrow at the ginger.

"Do you need something?"

"No, but you need a break. And sleep. And probably some of Alfred's cookies. When was the last time you even drank a sip of water?" Wally frowned, searching his friend's exhausted face.

"Is that it?"

Wally seemed taken aback by that, but Dick was too preoccupied to care. "Um… pretty much yeah. Just checking on your health and making sure you don't work yourself into the ground, nothing important," he quipped, staring hard.

Dick ignored how small he felt under that gaze. He never enjoyed it when Wally was mad at him, but Wally was only ever mad for good reasons. Either way Dick clenched his jaw and turned back to his work.

"Duly noted. Now if you don't mind- "

He pretended not to flinch when a gust of wind enveloped him as Wally darted forward and spun his chair back around, bracing his hands on the armrests so his nose was an inch from Dick and the vigilante was effectively trapped. The acrobat held his ground as the speedster searched his eyes.

"Sorry, thought you might have been Bruce for a second there," Wally muttered, and even though Dick knew he was only saying it to get Dick's attention, he couldn't help the ache in his heart at the words.

The hurt must have shown on his face because Wally softened.

"I'm sorry." Wally let go of the chair and stood, still close but far enough away that if Dick really wanted to, he could turn away. He didn't, so Wally continued. "It's just… the Team is worried about you. M'gann and Connor especially. They don't need to be able to mind-read or super-sight-whatever to see that you're fucking exhausted, Dick. I'm seeing it right now and the fact that you're not even trying to hide it is…." Wally blew out a breath, not knowing what else to say.

Dick fought the urge to cry or put his face into his hands and sleep. Instead he just stared. "I can't, Wally," he whispered. "It's too much."

"So let them help, Dick. You might be filling in for him, but you don't have to be him. I thought you figured that out a long time ago."

That was before I didn't have a choice, he wanted to say, but he'd had this conversation one too many times in his head already. He just wanted to sleep, if not be able to relax and joke about with Wally like everything hadn't changed - between them and in the world. He wanted to cry and shout like a little child but he wasn't a child anymore. Hadn't been for so long now. All he could do was pitch forward into Wally's open arms.

"Just… come upstairs, Dick. Get away from the Cave. If you don't want to sleep, we can raid the pantry and play a few rounds of Mario Kart before you come back down to finish this," Wally pleaded quietly.

He wanted to spend all night playing video games with his best friend, laughing about everything and nothing, tossing popcorn at each other until they passed out on top of each other in the living room. He knew he still had piles of work to do, but his head would explode if he sat here any longer.

Dick peeked up at Wally with a hint of the first real smile in days. "One round, that's it."

Wally laughed and Dick's heart panged because when had he last heard his friend laugh?

"That's all I'll need to beat your butt."

"You wish."

He felt like shit. Even more than usual. If he was being honest with himself, he was probably coming down with something, a sickness that had been building over the past few months - the cost of him shoving it down any time he had so much as a cough - only for it to threaten to spill over now when he could afford to let it. Well, not yet, but soon. First he had to get through today.

Starting off, he had a debrief for the Team and the rest of the interested Leaguers who hadn't been in the room the night before. Not everyone knew all the details about what had been going on since the League left, and now that it was all over, they were entitled to an explanation. It was Dick's responsibility to provide one.

Kaldur had offered to do the debrief for him, but they both knew that wasn't possible. Even Kaldur didn't know everything - having been busy with his own troubles - and not everyone was as ready to believe he was back on their side so they needed to hear it from someone they… trusted. Dick didn't deserve their trust, but for as long as he had it - which he doubted would be much longer after they knew the whole story - he'd use it.

He hadn't expected it to be so hard though. He'd done plenty of debriefs at this point, and though they hadn't been as big as this one was, it shouldn't have changed much and yet it did. Seeing the whole team and everyone they'd picked up along the way waiting in the Watchtower - it should have been at Mount Justice but you just had to get that blown up too - made Dick's breath stutter.

It wasn't just the fact that when they'd started the Team, it had only been four of them and now it was enough to fill the Watchtower room - look at how many kids put their lives in danger because you inspired them to - but it was everyone who wasn't there. The gaps in the crowd that only he could see where Tula should have been, where Jason should have stood, right next to Wally…

"Nightwing, ready?"

It had been all he could focus on while he'd talked - barely remembering later what he'd said. He'd avoided looking at Impulse because the red hair and fidgeting kept making him think it was someone else only for him to be repeatedly reminded that it wasn't, it never would be again and it was his fault. When he had to tell the crowd that, the consequences - the casualties - of his plans, he didn't let himself pause or hesitate because that meant he'd have time to think about it and then he'd lose it in front of all these people which he couldn't let happen.

As he said it, the crowd became both still and unsettled at the same time. He pretended not to see Connor in the back of the room pulling a teary-eyed M'gann close. In fact, he'd expected the world to fall apart when he finally said the words aloud - that Wally was gone, giving his life in the field, a place he wouldn't have been in if Dick had just left them alone, been a little less selfish - but instead, the numb feeling inside of him persisted.

Was that all he would feel from here on out?

"Casualties include Tula…" "Robin - Jason - is dead…"

How many more times will he have to do this? Had he become used to it by now, that saying his best friend was dead didn't bring out any emotion in him? That he could say it so straight-faced, voice not even cracking like his whole life hadn't come apart with losing one of the people closest to him at a time when he needed them most?

Suddenly he couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't breathe and all he wanted was to get off that makeshift stage, away from so many eyes on him - something that had never bothered him before having been born in the spotlight of a circus ring, but now made his skin crawl and his chest tight.

"That concludes this debrief. If you have any questions or concerns, find me, Kaldur or Batman. Thank you. You are dismissed," he finished quickly while his voice still worked, leaving as fast as he could without making it seem like anything was wrong (everything was wrong).

As he passed Kaldur - who'd been waiting off to the side - the Atlantean placed a reassuring hand on Dick's shoulder, the two sharing a nod that said everything words couldn't. Then Dick gently shrugged his friend's hand off and disappeared into the crowd.

M'gann found him at the edge of the room, trying to keep her tears in check as everyone around them chatted and laughed or gave him sad smiles. Like earlier with Bruce, he didn't know what he wanted from them. He wanted to know that Wally's death meant something and everyone was affected but it was also nice to see the normalcy that said not everyone was broken from the past few months even if it killed him. The confusion didn't help the feeling of suffocation.

'Dick,' M'gann greeted softly in his mind, and he turned to see her and Connor standing next to him. He was grateful that she'd established a mind link. It meant that they could talk without him needing to say the words or for others to hear.

'Hey, M'gann.'

She looked at him sadly, then without saying anything else, hugged him. He was stiff for a second, not trusting himself to not fall apart but it felt good so he let his arms wrap around her.

'How are you holding up?' Connor asked, and Dick looked at him over M'gann's shoulder.

I'm not. He wanted to say. I'm barely holding it together because I'm scared of what will happen if I don't because the one who can catch me is gone - because of me. I keep losing everyone and there's no one else to blame but me. I had to make choices I decided long ago I never wanted to be in charge of making and my best friend is dead for it.

'I'm okay,' he said instead. The look on Connor and M'gann's face as she pulled away told him that they didn't believe him but they wouldn't push. 'How's Artemis?' He asked, just to change the subject, not necessarily a better or safer one but different.

Connor and M'gann shared a look before M'gann smiled sadly at Dick.

'Not great, but I don't think we can expect any less. I think she's still in shock, like she hasn't really… you know, processed it yet.'

I think I get the feeling.

Out of anyone, Artemis would understand the most. Part of him wanted to go to her, knew he should talk to her, but another part of him wasn't sure seeing him would be what she needed right now. She probably blamed him and she had every right to when he already knew it was his fault.

He just nodded, and cleared his throat as his chest tightened further. He couldn't stay here much longer.

"I should go. There's still a lot of stuff to do," he said. It wasn't exactly a lie, but at the rate he was going, he'd run out of work soon. As much as it tired him though, he desperately needed a distraction to keep his thoughts from spiralling and drowning him which he couldn't let happen. Not when he was terrified he might not recover this time.

"Okay," M'gann said quietly. "We'll be here for you if you ever need anything, okay?"

If only he could figure out what he needed. (Wally. He needed Wally.)

"Thank you," he murmured, offering a genuine - albeit small - smile.

"Of course." M'gann hugged him again tightly.

Connor stayed back, but he met Dick's eyes, expression soft. "Take care of yourself," he said, giving Dick a knowing look, a hint of sadness in his smile.

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat and just nodded again as M'gann released him.

He all but ran to the zeta beams after that.

He was running out of distractions. If he wasn't at the Batcomputer, he was training. If he wasn't training, he was calling people about plans to rebuild Mount Justice. If he wasn't doing that, he was finding some other excuse to stay busy even if he was a minute away from dropping dead at any given moment. He hadn't given himself any breaks, let alone eaten a proper meal since… he couldn't remember when. He'd even debriefed Bruce on everything that had gone on at Wayne Enterprises, as well as Batman on the state of Gotham and the teams.

He saw the worried looks Alfred sent his way, Tim too. Bruce had been busy otherwise he might have also been on Dick's case. He limited his interactions with the Team after the debrief but he knew some of them were worried about him too - had been for months in the cases of M'gann and Connor. But they just didn't understand.

Guilt was only part of his work-obsessed fervour. In truth, he was terrified. Terrified of what he would do if he wasn't absorbed in some kind of work. Terrified of what he'd find out his life would be like when he hactually had time to live it. He couldn't just go back to his life as normal. His life wasn't his life without Wally. And he couldn't ignore the fact that the past few months had changed him too irreversably - making the hard decisions, the secrecy, lies. Who was he now? What was his life now?

He even went so far as to driving over to Artemis' mom's house where he knew the archer was staying. He'd gone all the way up to her door, hand raised to knock when he realised he'd have no idea what to say. How could he help her come to terms with Wally's death when earlier, he'd almost fallen apart after seeing Wally's name halfway down his recent calls list on his phone?

He left before Artemis or her mom could know he'd ever been there.

They'd needed him back at the Watchtower for something or the other. A lot of the Team would be there so he'd almost said no. His chest was still tight from earlier, but he ignored it.

It got tighter still when he was back to being in a room with everyone - not everyone, but then wasn't that the point? - the reminders of what he'd lost everywhere he looked. The laughter mixing with the echoes of memories, almost all of the original Team except for two - one who would never be there again, and the other not there because of it - another red haired speedster running around to feed Dick's hallucinations.

He hadn't realised he'd made the decision until he'd approached Kaldur about it later. He wasn't resigning, as he explained to the understanding Atlantean, but he needed a break. He couldn't do this for much longer and he'd rather not be responsible for the lives of young heroes when he inevitably cracked. Of course, he'd stay and do what he could while the Team and League recovered and Kaldur settled back into the role of a leader, but it let him do as much as he could with the least amount of interaction with the Team itself.

Kaldur supported his decision, respected him in the professional way he always was. Dick was grateful of course, but a part of him wondered what it meant that Kaldur just accepted his departure. Luckily, the rest of him was too sick and tired to listen.

He went back to the Manor, wondering if maybe it would be better to remove himself from all of the teams altogether. His breath was already coming a little easier knowing that scores of teens were no longer looking up to him for guidance as he himself was lost. The pressure for him to act like he had his shit together was bit less now. Would it be better then, if he went back to Bludhaven?

It wasn't like he needed the support of anyone in the Manor, not really. He had to keep up some semblance of an act when he was in front of Tim because… well wasn't that was older brothers were supposed to do? Not burden their younger brothers with their problems? Were they brothers at all? After Jason, when Tim had come along, Dick had promised to try and be better and learn how to be an older brother.

God, losing Jason had almost crushed him. The only reason it hadn't was because Wally had been there for him to lean on. He'd always had his best friend by his side to help support him. But now… Wally was the one who was gone. Who would Dick lean on now? Who would be his lifejacket in the storm, the tape to hold him until he could glue the rest together?

He couldn't breathe.

Wally was supposed to be there to help him breathe, just a phone call away but now… he felt sick. He'd been feeling sick for so long now that he'd forgotten the headaches and nausea weren't normal. Now he felt it, along with all the sleepless nights of the past few months.

He leaned against the table.

"So… if that was a dining table that you don't eat at and the one before that was a coffee table and the one before that was a meeting-dining table, then this has to be a buffet table."

He flinched at the memory, backing up into the couch behind him.

"You think Bruce will be mad if we disassemble this couch to make a fort?" "Oh I am so gonna beat you at this game." "This is one of the best couches I've ever fallen asleep on." "Dude! I think the couch ate my phone!" "I will not spill my granola- oops. We'll just leave that for someone to find in 20 years when they sell this couch. To me. I will buy it so no one will ever know, relax Rob."

"Master Dick?" Alfred enquired, snapping Dick out of the flood of memories that had assaulted him. He stepped away from the couch as if it burned him.

He swallowed thickly, trying to find his breath. "Alfred, I think I'm gonna go back to my apartment," he said, voice barely above a whisper, not trusting it to be any louder.

"And when do you suppose- "

Right now. He didn't want to stay a second longer than he had to, but he could already see Alfred's concern and a bit of disappointment. "By tonight. I'll start packing then wait to say goodbye to Bruce."

Alfred was good at hiding his emotions, but Dick could see the slight sadness in his nod. "Very good, sir."

Dick left without another word.

A/n: Notice that Dick hasn't cried yet? He's gotten close, but he's gon' keep shoving it all down until it… well I won't spoil it for ya ;)

Anyway, hope you're liking it so far. One more chapter where I promise a bit of comfort is coming! Stay safe, be nice, and see ya soon.

- CrowofArcadiaOaks