Tim had never had such a profound out-of-body experience like this. It's what he imagined LSD or high-quality weed felt like after a few hours. Tim felt the ground beneath his feet tilt and shift but he wasn't falling down?

He was vaguely aware of Jason yelling and then he moved to Slade, no, he punched Slade? Yeah, that's more accurate.

Tim looked over at Bruce. Didn't he just say that the blood sample they took from their original thief matched Dick's blood in their database?

Didn't that mean that Dick was alive?

Didn't that mean they had watched Dick take drugs and seize in his old apartment?

Didn'that mean that Dick wasn't dead?

Didn't that mean Dick was keeping tabs on them?

Didn't that mean Dick was back?

Dick was back. Dick was alive. Dick wasn't dead. Dick wasn't wasntdead. Dickwasn'tdead.

Tim looked to his right and saw that Damian was trembling, his knees quivered and he started to pant under his breath. Damian wasn't looking at anybody but his hands. He kept clenching his hands.

Tim tried that, maybe they were actually all high and mass hallucinating together. Damian noticed the movement to his left and looked at Tim.

Damian was crying. The bottom part of his mask had started to peel up from the salty water running down his cheeks. It was overflowing like Damian couldn't stop the waterworks and yet didn't know how to properly cry.

Suddenly Tim's ears popped and noises around him rushed at him violently. The world stopped tilting and sliding and everything was loud in a way Tim hadn't noticed until now.

Tim started, jerking over to see Jason tackling Slade to the floor. Jason's helmet was on the ground and his lip was split. His thigh had reopened and there were dark red smears all over the cave floor. Slade was on the defense, pushing and tumbling with Jason but never lashing back out with knives or guns.

"RedHood!" Batman barked and lashed out for Jason's bicep, gripping firmly and yanking him off Slade.

Jason could only rely on one leg and went stumbling with Batman, snarling at Slade like a dog that had failed socialization classes and was being removed.

Slade waited until Jason was at least 10 feet away before climbing back to his feet and crossing his arms like nothing violent had just happened.

Jason did not move to attack again but was ignoring Bruce's grip on him, scanning the cave walls sporadically for his guns, "I'm gonna fucking kill this piece of shit. Think he can come back in here and-"

"Hood!" Tim exclaimed. Jason finally stopped and looked at Tim.

Once they made eye contact, Tim looked at Bruce and then Slade. "Why are you leading us to believe the thief from Star Labs is Nightwing? We've interacted more than once. That guy is taller, stronger, has tattoos, and acted like we were strangers"

Slade sighed, "That would be thanks to the Court of Owls; unfortunately. They seemed to have gotten a hold of Richard and the results have not been pleasant, as you can see"

Tim glared at Slade's need to prove he knew Nightwing on a more intimate level than his family would approve of but pushed past it to the necessity at hand. "How do you know this?"

Without asking, Slade made his way over to one of the barren tables and lead against it, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "That kid is a beacon. No matter where he is, he draws everyone in" he looked at Batman, I'd bet all my league contracts that the only way he has any legitimate enemies is because of his association with you"

Bruce said nothing.

"Anyway" Slade continued, "I'm almost certain that Richard is in Bludhaven and is being hunted by the Court of Owls. He escaped sometime in the last 5 years and has been making his way around. Something drew him to Gotham and Bludhaven, and here we are"

Jason was still actively straining against Bruce's hold on his biceps, "Don't even try to pull this shit you fucking pussy low life! You shot Dickie dead! You-"

"I" Slade interrupted him with a matching snarl, "Did not kill your brother. If you remember correctly, I gave him 3 minutes to stand down from interfering with my contract before I shot him to incapacitate him. Not. Kill."

Slade looked at Damian and Tim, "Someone else killed him. They took his body as well, and I don't think it's too far-fetched to assume it was the Court finally taking their opportunity"

"Opportunity?" Tim said

"Correct" Slade nodded.

He ran a hand through his goatee, "From what I can tell, Richard's family lineage is connected to the Court of Owls from its beginning. Richard's family is from Romania and he isn't even a first-generation American seeing as how he was born in Europe with the circus. My contacts verified for me that Richard's family line, Grayson, used to be Gri, which is Romani for the color grey"

Slade stood straighter as if was feeling more at ease lecturing them all with Todd's aggression slightly controlled.

"Over time and with Western influence, they became known as the Son of Grey or Grey Sons and eventually just Grayson. I'm assuming you already know the history of the court and their intentions to oversee and dictate Gotham from the shadows and through their assassins. Well, no one knows what or who produced electrum to benefit their assassins but apparently there is a pecking order to it all."

"Most do not have a choice when joining the court, and even fewer have the option to become their revered talon, the highest honor amongst their assassins. There is only ever 1 talon but all orders are directed from the owls, their glorified board of directors, and the grandmaster. Nightwing has had 1 family member on his father's side disappear every 2 to 3 generations. While I'm uncertain why I can only assume it's a purposeful pattern."

Batman had fi ally dropped Jason's arms as they were both actively listening. "We need to know if Nightwing's parents were aware of this. If they knew their son was destined for death and subservience"

"Haley too" Tim added

Batman nodded but Slade interjected, "That's not even the most intriguing part, his parents offered him up on a silver platter. The boy never had a chance. For some reason, the court is convinced Richard Grayson is their chosen Grayson. The best of the best to be produced from the Grayson lineage. It's why they want him to replace their only Talon later."

"Those shitheads called him their chosen one," Jason said darkly.

Slade nodded, "Yes, but this has been planned for since his birth, and not just as you may think. They didn't expect Richard, they helped create him. I've come across certain evidence that may confirm that Richard was given doses of heightened electrum combined with other serums as a fetus, in the womb."

Slade's expression darkened, "Mary and John Grayson consented. There is no way they weren't aware of chemical injections during her pregnancy". His forearms and neck flexed as if he had the need to release pent-up tension from the topic at hand.

"Richard was most likely meant as a lamb for slaughter, some sort of payment before they were allowed a normal life and could have their second little brat in place of Richard."

"No!" Damian yelled. "The Graysons were wonderful people. They would never harm their son, much less sell him to a barbaric cult of assassins. Besides, Wilson, Nightwing was with Haley's circus and his parents until he was 9 years old. Also, the court most likely arranged for Zuko to kill his parents during an act, why go through all that trouble if there was already an arrangement?"

Slade smiled demurely at Damian, "Did you hear this from Richard? The boy who has about 11 total memories left of the circus? The same young man who had to look at pictures to remember their faces?" Slade studied Damian's face, his thinned lips and glassy narrowed eyes.

Damian's chin tightened and his glare deepened at the immense focus Slade's gaze gave him.

Slade looked back to Bruce and Jason, "I'm only reporting what I know and the theories I've produced from said knowledge, I'm not certain of everything, especially the events I was not present for"

Jason was still seething beside Bruce, "Are you seriously claiming you didn't shoot and kill Nightwing?"

Slade nodded, "I'm certain I didn't kill him. I didn't even pull the trigger. I was not aiming for anything vital. He's the last bat I would seriously maim if I had an option. This was also before the Court started looking into me, which prompted my research on them; and vice versa. It was about a year ago that I discovered most of Richard's lineage and possible legacy, which leads me to believe that because he possibly had electrum running through him from conception until his….death, then getting shot by that sniper didn't kill him. Not really. I think he healed from it after he was pulled from Gotham Bay"

Jason whipped his head to Bruce at Slade's mention of Dick healing from a headshot. Bruce tried not to react, but Slade caught it immediately.

"What had happened?" Slade asked pointedly.

Jason ignored Slade and continued to stare at Bruce. Tim made his way over to them and spoke with a lowered voice, even though Wilson could definitely hear, "Batman, if Deathstroke didn't kill Nightwing, we need to know what he knows. He has resources we don't have access to and they may be quicker than our more legal options"

Batman looked at Tim, "We do not barter or participate with criminals"

Jason ground his teeth together, "Are you fucking kidding me right now B? What do you call me if we don't work with criminals? Huh? Besides that, you won't fucking share information with Wilson for golden boy? He might be alive-" Jason stopped abruptly before realizing the severity of what he had admitted out loud. He blinked a few times before his eyes narrowed in spite.

Jason stepped even closer to Batman and shoved at his shoulders with both hands, "He might be alive and you won't work with a willing informant?!"

Slade smirked from across the room. His eyes drifted to the youngest bird, noticing that Damian had withdrawn into himself again. Most likely at the revelation that his big brother might be alive and might be even more similar to Damian than expected. There were probably some heady emotions whiling through the kid's mind at the thought of his big brother being expected to partake in killing and assassin culture just as Damian was raised to in the Middle East.

"We don't work w-" Bruce was cut off again as Jason snarled in his face.

"No! You! Don't work with criminals. We do if helps us get answers on the Court's goals and Dickie's location. We will do this. With or without you". Jason hadn't consulted Tim or Damian but the lack of protest from Tim told Bruce that Jason was correct in assuming the brothers would stand together.

Slade scoffed at how quickly the bats broke down and forgot protocol.

Bruce scowled at Jason and then Slade. He rolled his shoulders back, composing himself internally, "When Nightwing was about 14, he was injured in the field, and after he recovered he started healing at abnormal rates. The more often he was injured, the quicker he seemed to recover"

"Come now B, you've got to give me more than that" Slade purred.

Jason was visibly trembling at how furious Slade's amusement made him. Tim stepped up to decrease any in-cave violence and fighting, "In response to the Joker killing RedHood, Nightwing tracked the Joker down and killed him. GPD shot and killed him on site but Batman was able to stem the blood flow and revive him on site. He was transported back to the cave and was deemed stable in less than a week. After that, reports from our…doctor, and Batman showed that Nightwing took of the time it usually took to recover from field injuries. He reportedly never got sick after that event and by the time he was 17, Batman and other sources noted in his medical file that he was recovering in half the usual time"

Slade didn't say anything for a minute, staring at Tim. He looked at Jason and then Bruce, "Are you being honest? Nightwing killed the Joker?"

Tim nodded but Slade didn't react until Batman jerked his head in confirmation. Slade threw his head back and let out a deep chuckle. It was a deep tenor and boomed in the cave." Oh my", Slade said with a wide grin, "I was right alllll along. Your first bird really does have what it takes"

Slade didn't expand on that statement but Jason stepped forward, "You fucker, you like hearing about Nightwing getting shot up? Huh!?"

"Well no, not necessarily, but as long as he lived, I could care less. Although I would bet that you're in denial over how good feels to know one of your brothers is willing to kill for you, aren't you RedHood?"

Jason didn't say anything but continued to glare.

Tim was silently relieved, Jason had enough sense not to attack Deathstroke again but sighed at Slade's constant emotional jabs.

"I can see that everyone is willing and interested in my help and participation except you Batman. So, what will it be? Can you suck up your pride for your son? Oh wait, my apologies, your ward"

Batman's lip curled in disgust at Slade's remark, "He is my son"

Batman stared Slade down for another minute. Tim assumed he was weighing the costs of working with Slade for more information versus how much he might lose if Dick or this case wasn't solved.

Finally Bruce spoke, his voice deep and grave, "All meetings from here on out will be in the field. You. Will. Not. allow the cave's location to be leaked to the underground community. You will share all information you have and clarify which has been proven and by whom"

Slade nodded to everything so seamlessly that Tim wondered how much he would actually fulfill and follow through on.

Tim didn't feel overwhelmed or unsteady anymore but he was so numb even he could identify that he was in shock and denial right now. The fact that they were talking about finding Dick, making plans to partner with Slade Wilson, and learning a hidden history about Dick's family all in 1 night should have knocked anyone off their feet. Even Damian, who wasn't even a senior in high school yet had enough sense and self-control not to break down; instead, he shut down. Their family was so toxic sometimes.

Tim couldn't even begin to fathom what this might mean for them if Dick was alive. Jason always relied on Jason to ground his vibrant emotions, both he and Damian lashed out the most transparently to Dick because he could take it and understand it for what it really meant. Dick was Jason's first big brother and age-similar friend when he was introduced to high society after living with a deadbeat dad and an overdosing mom. Dick was Tim's first interest in Batman, and why he started following Batman and Robin around in the first place. Jason would admonish and joke, calling Tim 'Timmy the stalker' but the first Robin really did capture his attention like no other. His ability to work side by side with someone so much older and darker. Robin inspired fear because of his association with Batman, but where Batman failed to inspire hope in all the law-abiding citizens and victims, Robin offered compassion and joy. No one would have thought Batman would ever humor such an opposite characteristic in his crime-fighting partner. Honestly, he didn't, Bruce Wayne did.

Everyone knew how blatantly Dick had helped transition and raise Damian in the normal world that lacked assassins and violence. He allowed and encouraged Damian to be a child and to learn what he liked, not how to like what was expected of him. But no one really acknowledged how much Dick helped Tim. Dick was always the ear for Tim to rant to in his obsessive moods and was always there when Bruce was gone, which was often. By the time Tim was adopted, he had been an orphan for a matter of 3 days and had to adjust to a man who had recently lost his son and partner. Bruce was at his darkest when Tim was adopted and it might've led Tim down an even darker path if Dick didn't constantly intervene.

Despite the fact that Dick was hurting and missing his little brother, he accepted and welcome Tim like they were blood. He tried his hardest, especially considering how hard Bruce made it for Dick to be at the manor, and just seeing the amount of effort Dick put into Tim and their relationship after losing his parents made a world of difference.

Tim was barely surviving minimum online classes at Gotham University right now. He usually got an average of 3 to 5 hours of sleep and that was only because he knew that Dick would have been genuinely upset to see Tim burning himself out. When Tim pushed himself too hard in the past, Dick would barge into his room and start laying out sweats and a nightshirt, he would clean up Tim's floor and dirty laundry, giving Tim a chance to wrap up the issue he was stuck on. Dick would eventually start slipping Tim's pen out of his hand or closing his laptop lid with a smile. He'd push and pull Tim to bed, climb in with him, and start scrolling through mind-numbing dumb videos and memes. Most nights, Tim couldn't remember when he fell asleep, just that he would wake up feeling refreshed to find Dick right beside him.

To have Dick back, their family would have a chance to be whole. Damian would stop spiraling, and Bruce and Jason wouldn't be at each other's throats every day. Alfred's hair wouldn't grey so fast, and Tim, well Tim would feel a little more whole finally.

But at the core of every 'if' Tim thought of one issue. One thing that no one was acknowledging or asking and it bothered Tim immensely.

Damian must have been thinking along the same lines because amongst all the arguing and planning, he spoke up and his voice hadn't sounded so small and young in a while, not since the funeral for Dick Grayson, "If Richard is alive, why hasn't he come home?"

Everyone stopped and turned to Damian, realizing the kid was mostly close to breaking down as everything set in.

Jason and Batman transitioned and took in hard facts with anger and violence, Tim was successful using methods of logic and reason most of the time but Damian was a teenager at the end of the day and one who had lost his emotional and social support too soon. Just old enough to fully comprehend what he was feeling but not old enough to handle it very well.

Slade looked back to Batman expectantly, "I'm not sure Robin. It's part of the necessity for us to find and solve the issues concerning Nightwing. There are multiple possibilities, he may have been blackmailed, he may have something to accomplish first, he may be having trouble remembering us after 5 years with the Court-"

"He may not like you anymore" Slade purred darkly.

Damian blanched, his throat bobbing nervously. Jason and Tim shot Slade horrendously dark looks, "Shut the fuck up you fucking pedo"

Slade glared at Jason, "I detest that title. I have 3 children of my own. No matter what lies you have to convince yourself of to justify your own hypocrisy and actions. I. Do. Not. Touch. Children"

Jason shrugged, pleased he had gotten under Slade's skin, "You're the one who has been stalking our brother since he was 10"

Batman handed Slade a temporary communicator, "You will use this to reach out for our future rendezvous'. Do not seek out my sons without prior approval. I will reach out within 24 hours to confirm our next steps. Now leave."

Slade glanced at it briefly before nodding and replacing his mask over his face, his face had started closing its wounds already but he still looked battered and in need of rest too.

Without a word he proceeded to his bike towards the cave garage and stopped, he looked back at Batman, "You should prepare them for what we may find. It's disgustingly obvious you all expect a joyful reunion. We are hunting down your oldest son, this will be anything but joyful and fulfilling"

With one last glance at Damian, Slade threw one leg over his bike before revving his engine and shooting off down the tarmac exit. They all watched his rearlights fade in the blackness.

Bruce looked at Damian, "Robin, get some sleep and turn in for the night. That's the same for you and Jason" he said to Tim, "After your reports are done. Try to recount everything while it is still fresh, you may include commentary this time"

With that, he tugged off his cowl and made his way over to the Batcomputer, mostly likely planning to be there until Alfred forced him to bed. Typical Bruce, not acknowledging the emotional elephant in the room. And oh god, what were they going to tell Alfred? Dick's funeral was the first time, Alfred had broken down. Tim would never say so but even Jason's funeral had only pulled tears from Alfred; he was distraught but functioning. Dick's funeral had broken Alfred for about a week, he had disappeared into his room and they heard 3 thuds; then 6 days later Alfred reappeared in the kitchen, face pale, eyes drawn and shadowed but acting as if nothing ever happened. They had never ordered so much takeout until then.

No one had it in them to fight orders this late and they all separated, branching off to do different tasks and winding down for the night. It was 4 am, and no one would be doing anything tomorrow, or today in about 4 hours.

Jason didn't say anything but put his helmet back on and calmly walked to his bright red bike. After Dick's passing, Jason had added a small Bluejay sticker to the engine casing.

Everyone watched Jason ride out of the cave at a reasonable pace, Bruce brought up Jason's location to make sure he hadn't turned off his tracker before dismissing his second son and returning to the monitors in front of him.

Tim shed his uniform, forgoing the report, and walked to the stairs. He waited for Damian to join him and they both made their way into the manor and up to their bedrooms. Tim laid a hand on Damian's shoulder before heading to his own bed.

He took 3 melatonin, pulled on a hoodie and sweats, put his phone on mute, and threw himself under the covers. He feared what might be coming, but all he wanted to do right now was dream of Dick.

At some point, Tim vaguely remembered stirring from some noise of movement. It might've been only a few minutes after he went to bed, it might've been an hour. If something was wrong, whoever it was wouldn't have been so quiet at least. He was lying on his stomach, the blanket was around his thighs like he kicked them off in his sleep.

The bed dipped slightly by his hip as the person sat down. He heard a deep quiet sigh before a heavy hand was laid on his head. The hand was heavy and slightly calloused, Tim sighed as he felt his hair brush back repetitively for a few minutes. The feeling was soothing and comforting in a way that appeased what little stress sleep couldn't dissipate. In the back of his slightly conscious mind, Tim imagined Dick's face watching him, his pleasant bright blue eyes, open and filled with adoration for his brother. Dick's hands would be ever more calloused, years of working acrobatics bars and weapons leaving their marks on his palms, but the care in which he touched his loved ones entirely counteracted any physical roughness.

The person at his side smelled of burnt coffee and pressed suits; familiar with the sporadic and elite lifestyle that they catered to during the day. At some point, Tim didn't have it in him to stay even slightly conscious to soak in the comfort and warmth of the hand petting through his hair and drifted to sleep. When he woke up the next day, he saw the blankets had been pulled up and tucked under his chin.