Don't Fear the Reaper

18) Back at it Again with Damocles

A/N: the pic if from like a DC Comics stand alone series, but the grave stones partially inspired this chap. 

Dick couldn't sleep. The flashes of memories hung over him like the sword of Damocles. It was a dangerous game to dredge up repressed memories, but Dick couldn't find it in him to care.

As he left his room, he saw the light in Nico's room on. He knocked on the door, but got no response. Part of him debated just moving on, assuming that he had fallen asleep with the lights on... but that part of him lost the mental debate to the big brother in him that didn't want the kid to sleep with the lights on. Nico looked tired enough as it was and he needed all the rest he could get.

Dick opened the door, intending on just stepping in quickly to turn off the lights, but then he noticed the empty room. The bathroom door was open and so was the closet, so Dick could tell he wasn't in either, and then his eyes caught on the open window.

Dick stepped up to it and knocked on the frame, making sure it was loud enough so that the kid could hear it if he was out there.

Two stomps.

Dick chuckled slightly before stepping out onto the roof, immediately spotting Nico a few feet up the slanted surface.

"Couldn't sleep?" Dick questioned, casually walking up the roof to sit a few feet away from the teen.

Nico shrugged slightly. "Don't sleep much."

Dick resisted the urge to say that he could tell, not wanted to piss the kid off. "Me neither, though I suspect it's for different reasons."

Nico just hummed slightly.

Dick watched the assassin and his chest tightened because he looked like such a kid. His cloth face mask was missing as he sat in the moonlight in just sweatpants and the hoodie Dick had ordered for him. He looked like a normal teen. He looked like he was just another kid— another Wayne.

And then Nico looked at him and the toxic green tint to his eyes destroyed the illusion. His wasn't just  a kid. He was Reaper: the infamous assassin with a kill count in the hundreds. An assassin who, for years, evaded the Bat, leaving a trail of bodies.

"You're staring," the kid said, face remaining neutral, but his eyes held a hint of discomfort.

"I remember you," Dick blurted out, fully not planning to say that. "—or, I... I think I do. It's hazy and broken up in my mind, but... we met before."

Nico stared at him for a long time, not saying a word, until he finally looked away and back out at the tall buildings in the distant city.

"You're the one who got to grow up," Nico said, no emotion in his voice.

"What?"

"The others, they never got that, but you did," Nico stated. "That's what you told me the night we first met. You said it was your deepest regret."

Dick stared at him in shock, not sure what to say, but apparently Nico didn't need him to respond.

"You got to grow up. It wasn't without it's own tragedies, but you still reached adulthood. The others, they never really got that. Sure, they might make it to adulthood, but they never got to grow up." Nico didn't look at him. He just kept looking at the skyline. "They all died and came back or had something happen that stole their childhood. Jason died. Tim has lost pretty much everyone he's ever loved, even if a lot of them have come back. Steph, well, if you don't already know about what she went through, then it isn't my place to tell. Cass and Damian, they never had a childhood to begin with. Duke, he wasn't around yet when we met, but he's maybe the closest you'll get. He had a good childhood up until the Joker came along and destroyed his life, but he's like you. He kept his hope."