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“Nightwing, report in.” Oracle chimed in, through the coms. Nightwing was currently on patrol, running across the Gotham rooftops in the rain, the sky was dark with clouds covering the star, the only thing visible being the crescent moon. He took to a stop and reported back, his hand going up to his earpiece, turning it on with a flick of a finger. “I’m here, Oracle. What's happening?” Nightwing kneeled down on the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the streets of Gotham watching the various activities happening.
“Scarecrow attack on 482 Grover street. On the west side, he's got a new and improved fear gas from what the reports sound like.” He could hear Oracle’s hands typing away at her keyboard through the coms, probably following more into the report. Nightwing let out a deep sigh, before reporting back. “Aye aye, on the way. Any captives?” and then he jumped off the rooftop, swinging in the air; using his grappling hook to travel efficiently through Gotham, until, very unfortunately, his line snapped. “Crap..” He muttered to himself, he usually had a backup because ‘always be prepared’ but unfortunately this was an unlucky time for him.
Nightwing slid down the building, grabbing his bat-phone, tapping at the screen for a second until he summoned his bike. (The one from gotham knights.) As the bike was unfolding, nightwing slid on , quickly putting his helmet on. Safety first. After making sure everything was in order, nightwing revved the engine up, letting out a loud roar, before stepping on the gas and racing to the scarecrow. He swiftly went through Gotham, riding past various cars and citizens carefully.
“Five hostages, all under the gas influence.” Oracle popped up again, answering his earlier question. Nightwing let out a grunt, addressing the information before turning the mic off to his coms and formulating a plan in his head, preparing for the worst with the new fear toxin. After some minutes of driving through the Gotham streets he arrived at the building. He parked his bike and scaled up a rooftop, one adjacent to the building with the scarecrow.
He looked down at it, seeing the green gas through the windows, and seeing only a total of 2 hostages on the first floor. There were three floors, so he decided they must be spread out or hidden. Nightwing equipped his bat-mask.
— - BAT-MASK [A high level filtration gas mask, designed by Batman in collaboration with the Wayne Corproation during the rise of various gasses like laughing gas and fear gas.]
He held his batons, his grip secure as he jumped down from the roof, swinging through the air, reminiscent of the feelings from his old circus acts. He carefully slid onto the edge of an open window, leaning inside to take a peak around. And to his surprise, there was no sign of scarecrow. Only the hostages were on the floor below him, shrouded in the green gas, he jumped down to quickly help them. Nightwing got the bat-knife out and he made haste of cutting their ropes and carrying them out.
— - BAT-KNIFE [A sharp and easy to carry knife, similar to a pocket knife. It has a design resembling the batarang. Found in retail shops only.]
“Oracle, two hostages are out, no sight of scarecrow.” He turned his mic back on and updated Oracle, going back into the building after making sure the hostages were unharmed, thankfully. Nightwing was going onto the second floor until the scarecrow swiftly grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arm around his neck with his claw syringes up to his neck. Nightwing went into shock for a moment, before trying to flip the situation and get out of his grasp.
“Shhh,, shush birdie… Just let the fear take over..” Scarecrow said, his voice low and patchy, it was a horrific noise to hear, especially since he is a villian. “No, scarecrow, I won’t give in!” He exclaimed, Nightwing struggled, almost escaping from the scarecrow’s hold until he injected nightwing with the syringes. Going into his neck, the pain rushed through his body as he felt the toxins in the syringe course through his veins. Nightwing’s breath hitched as his body went weak, going limp as he fell against the scarecrow. Getting left defenseless.
Dick was transported to a new place, a familiar one. He was on his knees suddenly, in front of his parents' lifeless bodies. His eyes widened in pure shock, his hand went over his mouth, gasping, memories flowing through his mind. He quickly stood up and stumbled back, a sense of urgency in his mind telling him to run away. Until he tripped on his own feet just to fall back again on his butt . He tried shuffling back, the horror in his eyes was evident as he watched.
He looked around, seeing the crowd around him, but instead of shocked or sorrowful faces, they were laughing. Making a joke out of the situation. The tall circus tent seemed like it was 10x bigger now, feeling so small under the laughter of these people. He barely even knew what to do, turning his attention back to the dead bodies of Mary and John Grayson, his parents; accompanied by the snapped handle next to them.
Until his mom’s head snapped in his direction, to him. Dick looked at her shocked. “Mom?..” He tried going up to her, until her now boney and rotting hand grabbed his ankle. “You failed… Why couldn’t you save us?..” Mary Grayson muttered, her deformed and bloody body crawling to him, leaving a trail of blood. Dick tried crawling back, his breathing heavy. Their faces were blurred, has it been that long? How could he not remember their faces? But then, John Grayson stood up, limping as he reached out for Dick. “you failed us… Now you can’t even remember us…? You disgrace…”
Dick had to forcefully remove his mother’s hand from his ankle shamefully. He took one last glance, horror and heartbreak in his eyes as he turned away and ran. His parents kept spouting out words of how he failed them.
Dick kept running, not stopping until it was only pitch blackness around him, seemingly alone. But if dick had learned anything, he was never alone in gotham. Wait, where was he even? Dick looked around, spinning in circles before continuing to walk. He then remembered, none of this was real. It’s fake. It’s all fake. He can’t let fear take over again, and never again. He’s better than that, or should be. Hell, he's nightwing, next to the cowl, the boy wonders. People lean on him, and if he let fear take over, how could he protect his loved ones? He couldn’t fail them, not now at least. Because he had already failed too many people.
He couldn’t be a failure, and he couldn’t show it. Dick continued walking, until he got distracted for a moment in his thoughts and tripped over something, seemingly air as he fell. Instead of hitting a floor he fell through a pitch black hole, seemingly never ending. Dick panicked and tried to grab onto the edges or stop himself from falling but couldn't seem to get a grip on anything around him. He then closed his eyes as he made a quick impact to the floor, a sharp pain coursing through his back as he let out an aching “Ach!-”. After the pain sizzled down, but still had an aching residue in his back. He wasn't that old to be having back pain, right?
Dick sat up, looking down at himself, pausing. He didn’t expect this, he looked down at himself, an old outfit he hadn’t had on in forever.. The torso being half orange and half black, with an “S” where the “R” for robin was supposed to go. He was so caught up in his uniform, he didn’t notice Slade in front of him until Slade grabbed Dick by the neck, holding him up against the wall. “Tsk, Robin. I told you to kill them. You failed.” Dick’s hands went up to Slade’s, trying to pry Slade’s hand off of Dick’s neck, losing oxygen quickly because of the panic.
Dick’s legs were hanging, kicking against the wall until they slowly started to go limp, and that's when Slade let go of him, letting Dick drop to the floor. Dick just looked down, catching his breath until he looked back up at Slade. “You're getting another mission. You better not fail this time, and if you do, I’ll make sure you regret it.” Dick knew Slade meant that there was not one doubt in his brain. He just nodded, keeping a stern face to try to not show too much weakness. He should be better than this- it's been years! But he just can't. He’s back in this outfit, this room, with him..
Dick’s train of thought got caught off as Slade gave him a gun and a staff. “Gun’s just in case. You're killing the target either way.” Dick gulped, taking the weapons. He put the gun in his utility belt and held the staff as he stood up, standing straight in front of slade. “You need to kill Veronica Cale, 596 Jefferson road. Don’t disappoint me, robin. Slade walked off, and Dick just fell to his knees, he knew Slade had cameras. He didn’t care. He put his face in his hands as he took a second, why was he back here? Fuck.. eventually Dick knew he had to follow through with Slade’s instructions, so he got ready and made sure he had all of his gadgets and set off.
When he arrived there, Dick could see her through the window in her fancy office. Walls decorated with various plaques for charity donations and kind doings. She was sitting at her desk, wine in her hand as Veronica typed away on her laptop, doing various work things. She had a suit on, her hair in a bun. Dick just stood there for a moment, watching her, trying to delay the inevitable. “Go along now, Robin.” slade’s voice chimed in through a communication system that he had set up. Dick just sighed and snuck in, opening a window and climbing inside. He was behind Veronica, so he grabbed her and pulled her out of the chair.
She let out a aching scream, hurting his ears with how loud it was. He quickly put a hand over her mouth to muffle it, she struggled, letting out cries of help to no use. Dick couldn’t do it. He held her down with on hand that was also muffling her. With the other hand he grabbed the staff, holding it up to her chest. He could stab her. Get it over with. But he couldn’t. He never could, he- “Robin. You have the target, what's with the hesitation?” Dick’s breath hitched as he listened to Slade’s off putting voice, fear rushing through him at the idea of the punishment for failing this mission. He pressed the staff down, not doing any damage, but it surely hurt. He tried, but her scream and cries– Dick looked around one last time, the charity plaques.. Oh god, he couldn’t do this.
No no no no.
“Robin. Do it. Now, or else.”
“Do it.”
No nonononoonono…
….
In that split moment of hesitation from Dick, Veronica Cale grabbed her wine glass and hit Robin’s head with it, the glass shattering as it made contact with his head, knocking him out as he slowly fell to the side.