Dick was tangled up in a mess of emotions, like a shadow he couldn't shake off. Losing Batman, another father figure and family member, had really knocked him off balance. Night after night, the darkness turned into a stage for his nightmares—flashes of his parents' deaths, haunting memories of Jason's end—these images tormented him when the world was silent. Sleep, which used to be a refuge, now felt like it was slipping away, just out of reach.
By day, Dick went through the motions, moving on autopilot. Every smile and every quick move seemed to carry a hint of disbelief. Batman, who was supposed to be this unstoppable force, this symbol of strength, wasn't meant to fall. As days rolled by in a monotonous grind, Dick was not just grappling with Batman's loss but also with a sense of helplessness that came with it.
The realization hit him hard. Being the oldest in the Bat-Family, he now had this heavy responsibility on his shoulders, a constant reminder of duty. Standing at the edge of a role he never wanted, the cowl of Batman seemed to loom over him like a ghost of obligation. Grief was already heavy enough, but now he faced this new burden—becoming Batman. It wasn't something he had sought; in fact, he'd spent years carving out his own path, trying to distance himself from Batman's shadow. Nightwing had been his way of saying, "I'm my own person."
Now, thrust back into this role he'd fought hard to escape, Dick wrestled with the idea of taking over for Batman. The thought of anyone else in the Bat-Family shouldering that weight was unbearable. Cass, Tim, Steph—they all had their own battles and Dick couldn't stand the thought of them dealing with the crushing expectations that came with the cowl.
The responsibility of protecting and guiding his siblings was already huge, but now it came with the deep fear of losing them too. The nights stretched long ahead, and the city that was once watched over by Batman and his partner now needed just one guardian. And that guardian was Dick Grayson. Despair crept in as he faced the reality of becoming Batman, a role he had resisted. It felt like a step back, a return to a place he'd worked hard to leave behind. The freedom Nightwing represented now felt like a far-off dream.
The doorbell ringing broke through his turbulent thoughts. Alfred was busy in the kitchen, so Dick had to get up and answer it. Since Batman's passing, unplanned visits had become common, with the extended family of vigilantes, heroes, and allies dropping by to check in and offer their support.
Nobody showed up to check on them. It was pretty clear they were not okay.
As Dick made his way to the door, he ran through the usual suspects in his mind—the Titans, the Teen Titans, the Justice League, and even the Gotham Sirens who'd drop by during their patrols. But nothing could prepare him for the surprise waiting on the other side.
When he opened the door, the creak seemed to echo in the stillness. There, standing right in front of him, was someone he'd never expected to see again. Dick's face went through a whirlwind of emotions as he tried to wrap his head around it.
"Little Wing?" Dick stammered, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief. The flood of old memories and the sheer surprise of seeing Jason Todd was almost too much.
His eyes went wide, his jaw dropped, and before he knew it, his legs gave out. In a move that seemed straight out of a drama, Dick Grayson, once the agile acrobat and seasoned hero, just fainted right there in the doorway.
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Jason watched as Dick Grayson lay sprawled on the floor, looking like he'd been knocked out cold by the mere sight of him. Jason sighed, a mix of amusement and exasperation on his face. He'd expected Dick to be shocked, but this was over the top even for him. Dick fainting at seeing his supposedly dead little brother was classic Dick Grayson—dramatic to the end. Despite everything, it was kind of comforting to see that some things never changed.
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The Red Ghoul {The Red Good Series: Book Zero}
FanfictionStanding behind the monster, as this one laughed maniacally and planned the bombing of Gotham's Children Hospital, the shadow swung his sword. It was a small cut, one that left no DNA or proof that could be linked back to the shadow. No one would ev...