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“We will find a cure,” Bruce says.
Dick looks at him. It’s been weeks. Bruce looks tired. If he had to guess, Dick doesn’t think he looks much better.
“I know you will,” he says, putting more faith than he feels in his voice.
He thought the nightmare was over when he’d been rescued from the court. He’d been hurt, starved, but he thought the nightmare would be over with some care from Alfred, maybe from Leslie, some time, and some of his family love.
The nightmare was only beginning.
And it began exactly like that. A nightmare. A lucid dream of Cobb telling him he was destined to be a Talon. To work for the court. To assassinate the people he loves, starting with a Wayne or two.
Dick’s answer had been simple.
“I’d rather die.”
So, it happened. Cobb cut all his limbs and left him to bleed out.
When Dick had woken up with joint pain, he hadn’t thought much of it. He was still recovering from what had basically been torture, after all.
A few nights after, he had the same dream. This time Cobb pushed a sword through his stomach.
Dick hadn’t been able to eat anything after that. He had chucked it up, with the pain, to anxiety.
The first night Cobb pierced his heart was the one Alfred noticed an irregularity in his cardiogram.
“Nothing major,” he had said, “but given the ordeal you just went through, I would rather keep an eye on it.”
Dick hadn’t talked about the dreams, in the beginning. He hadn’t wanted to worry them. But joint pain turned to nerve damage, and stomachaches turned to ulcers, and he had to make the connection.
The Owls had done something, to his body, to his mind.
Each injury he received in the dream became real.
“I trust you,” he tells Bruce. “I believe in you.”
He’s lying down, fed by an IV, but he believes in Bruce.
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says.
Dick already knows what is going to happen.
“I’d rather die.”
“How are you feeling?” Barbara asks, voice kind.
Dick hums. The light is hurting his eyes. She seems to notice – detectives, all of them – and she turns it off.
“Migraine?” she asks. She doesn’t ask if his head had been beaten to pulp, that night.
Dick hums again. Barbara wheels her chair until she’s next to the bed. She doesn’t push him to go do a CT scan. What’s the point if they can’t stop it?
She smells like coffee, and Dick wonders when was the last time she slept.
“My dad used to sing for me when I had migraines as a teen,” she says. “Do you want me to…”
“The commissioner?” He would actually pay money to hear that.
“Never mind. This is silly.”
“Please,” he says.
Her hand is soft in his hair. She sings. Her voice breaks on some notes, and if he sees a tear running down her cheek, he doesn’t say anything.
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says.
Dick already knows what is going to happen.
“I’d rather die.”
“You wanted to see me,” Steph says. She looks a little uncomfortable, but he has to do it. He doesn’t know how many more beheadings he can take until he can’t talk anymore.
“Yes,” he croaks. “We need to talk about something. About Nightwing.”
“What about Nightwing?”
“I want you to have it… if you’re willing.”
Her breath stills for a second. Even with all the painkillers he’s on, Dick can see it. “Do you want to take another name?” she finally says.
“Steph.”
“No. We’re going to find a cure.” There is utter, sheer determination in her bright, smart blue eyes. He made the right choice.
“I know you will,” he says. “Take care of Damian, okay?”
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says.
Dick already knows what is going to happen
“I’d rather die.”
“It makes no sense. There would have been an archive, anything about any procedure. We translated everything, looked everywhere. It makes no sense.”
Tim had bitten his fingers until they’re bloody. Dick should probably tell him to stop doing that.
“Hey,” Tim says when he sees his eyes open, forcing a smile. “Dick, you’re awake. How are you feeling.”
“Like you need a nap,” Dick wants to say. He wants to smile, and reassure Tim.
But that night, his jaw had been torn apart by the strong hands of his ancestor before he bled out, so, when he opens his mouth, the only thing that gets out is blood.
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says.
Dick already knows what is going to happen
“I’d rather die.”
Alfred is with him the next time he wakes up. There is an oxygen tube in his mouth.
“You’re alright, master Dick,” he says. “It’s just a precaution.”
Dick wants to tell him he knows it isn’t, because he’s just been waterboarded, and his lungs had already gotten toxic gases, as well as multiple drowning and stabbing in the last few months, and while he knows his deathes don’t fully reflect on his body, he knows they do, in a way.
He also knows Alfred wouldn’t intubate him if he had a choice.
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says.
Dick already knows what is going to happen.
“I’d rather die.”
Cass is like a shadow next to him. She has his hand, the one that is still throbbing, fingers broken one by one until Cobb moved higher, to his arm, then to his neck, in hers.
She’s muttering something, over and over again, but he knows she’s saying it to him. After all, Cass never talks unless it’s for someone else.
“We’re not giving up,” she says. “We’re not giving up, we’re not giving up, we’re not giving up.”
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says.
Dick already knows what is going to happen.
“I’d rather die.”
“Kid,” Jason’s voice. “You have to see him.”
Dick’s vision is blurry. Both his eyes had been enucleated in the last nightmare. But he recognizes Jason’s voice. He wants to smile. He’s not sure how successful he is.
“To say goodbye? You all act like… But I’m not giving up.” Damian. Smart, brave, strong Damian.
“I’m not saying goodbye! I’m not saying goodbye!” Damian runs away and Dick understands. He doesn’t want to say goodbye either.
Jason enters the room, alone. “So, um,” he says. “I don’t know if you’re awake or not, but so you know, I will be really upset if you take my trademark. I’m the dead Robin, remember?”
Dick doesn’t say they all died, at that point, and with what he’s living every night, he deserves that title.
“You’re going to fight,” Jason continues. “Harder than I’ve ever seen you fight, and I’ve been here for your fall outs with Bruce. You’re going to fight, remember.”
Dick doesn’t tell him he’s already fighting. He’s fighting not to become a Talon, not to become their puppet.
He’s fighting not to hurt any of the people he cares about.
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says. “You will join me, join your real family.”
Dick already knows what is going to happen. He also knows who his real family is. His real family is all over the world, the entire hero community, Titans in the front line, fighting for him. His family is in Gotham, running themselves ragged, looking for a cure.
His family is not giving up on him.
So, he’s not giving up on them.
“I’d rather die.”
“Bruce, I’m sorry,” Leslie says. “His body can’t take much more. I think the next time it happens will be the last.”
There is silence, for a long time, until Dick hears Bruce say, “We will find a cure. We’re not giving up on you, Chum.”
And then, there is a sound, like a scream, or a sob. It is not a sound Dick is used to, not from Bruce, at least. This is a sound that sounds a little too close to giving up, for his comfort.
But it’s okay. Dick had been Robin. He’s hope. He’s the light in the darkness.
He can be strong for the two of them. He always was.
“You will become a Talon of the court of Owls” Cobb says.
They’re on a trapeze platform. Dick already knows what is going to happen.
He hopes one day they understand it is his way of protecting them.
He smiles.
“I’d rather die.”