Chapter Text
Patrol starts out like every other day. Not that that means anything. Every patrol that goes horribly wrong starts out perfectly normal. Dick is patrolling on his own, he's still connected to the rest of them through comms, Jason actually coming around and working with them more and more, but he is a good distance away when it happens.
By "it" he means being taken down embarrassingly easily. A dart to the neck that he didn't even know he needed to dodge. He doesn't even have time to radio in before he hits the ground, vision fading all too quickly.
"Nightwing, can you hear me?" Oracle comms in. She doesn't get a response, nor did she expect to. The feed is dead along with his trackers. She sends Red Hood to Nightwing's last known location. He gets there as quick as he can, joined by Batgirl shortly after. Nightwing isn't there, nor is he in the surrounding location. Even when Batman and Robin make it to the area, no one can find even a trace of where he is. He doesn't even show up on any cameras for her to follow.
Dick, that's his name, right? He isn't sure anymore, he is sure that he's dead. He remembers waking up, then feeling cold and weak, strapped down to a bed. Despite being sure that he died, he wakes up, multiple times only for the process to be done over and over again. Each time he becomes less and less aware of who he is. His memories become more and more faint until he can't remember anything. He has no recollection of who he is, who he was, what he has been doing all his life, it's all... gone.
They tell him he is Talon, he is also called Gray Son, but he will mostly be called Talon. His mission is to obey the court. Disobedience is failure and failure will be punished. He is a weapon for their use, thoughts are unnecessary and emotions a hindrance to his purpose. He needs not these things, these weaknesses, for he is a Talon.
It's a week before Superman is on world. He was in a mission off world and Bruce had no contact with him. The moment he is on world, Bruce calls his name, needing Clark on Gotham now. Clark has long since memorized Dick's heartbeat, having memorized his friends' and their protégé's heartbeat. That means Clark is possibly the only one capable of finding Dick.
"Bruce? What's wrong?" Clark frowns, scanning the area. There's nothing amiss that he can tell. Everyone seems to be in the Bat cave. Even Jason and Stephanie which last Clark knew she had been fighting with Bruce and vowed to never come back or talk to him (for the 100th time). Well, almost everyone. Dick isn't here, maybe it's about him. Clark hopes nothing is wrong with Dick. He's pretty fond of the boy.
"Dick is missing. There's no leads, no trace of what happened. I need you to find him." Bruce says. His voice is rough in a way Clark hasn't heard in a long time.
"I'll find him." Clark nods. He closes his eyes and listens. He tunes his ears for heartbeats, looking for one in particular. He searches and searches, each growing second causes everyone's worry to spike. It doesn't typically take this long.
Clark opens his eyes, his body slumped. None of them had to be Cass to know Clark couldn't hear it. "I'm sorry."
Barbara gives a small gasp, her hand covering her mouth as tears prick her eyes. Stephanie's reaction is similar. What is unanimous is their heart beats. How they spike. How Clark can practically hear the shatter.
"What the fuck does that mean?" Jason stomps over to Clark.
"Jason-" Bruce begins.
"No. He's not fucking dead! Just because you can't hear his heartbeat doesn't mean shit." Jason shoves Clark and Clark allows him to. Clark knows what not being able to hear a heartbeat means.
"Dick's not dead." Tim agrees. "There are other possibilities."
"Damn replacement's right. There are other possibilities." Jason nods, his anger still visible. Clark knows the boy's default emotion is anger. He also knows that acceptance is something most of them struggle with.
"Like he could be somewhere sound proof. Somewhere not even you can hear." Stephanie chimes in, her eyes still wet.
"Or- or his heartbeat could just be different. He doesn't- he can't- he's not dead. There are other possibilities." Tim looks to his mentor who has been devastatingly quiet.
"There are." It's unlikely, is what Bruce doesn't say.
"We can still find him. We- we've closed cases that were deemed cold before. We can do it again." The fire in their eyes that Clark typically enjoys seeing now brings him pain.
"Boys-" Clark begins.
"If you're going to keep spouting bullshit then get out!" Jason snaps, stepping another foot closer to Clark.
He can't get them to accept the truth. Not even Bruce can. They are going to have to accept it on their own, so Clark leaves.
"Will you help?" Jason glares at Bruce. Bruce can't say anything. He doesn't know how to. His grief and pain has consumed too much of him. He doesn't say anything, only retreats to the manor.
"B-" Tim starts.
"If he won't help then so be it. We don't need it anyway. You're a better detective anyway, Tim. We'll just do it on our own." Tim. Not replacement, not brat, not an insult. Jason doesn't typically use Tim's name. He doesn't even realize what he said. He only glances around the room.
Steph nods fiercely, Cass doesn't say or sign anything. She doesn't give anything away, but she also doesn't walk away. That's a good sign at least. Barbra just shakes her head, glasses off and tears falling freely before rolling away. That's fine. They'll do it on their own. The three- probably four- of them can do it themselves.
Bruce and Barbara do wind up helping, if only to look for a body. They still don't know which way Cass is leaning, but she helps nonetheless. It's an all hands on deck situation. They even brought in some justice league members. They first brought in Zatanna for a location spell, but that didn't pan out. Then brought in vixen for her to track him. They got further, but then the scent died out.
Steph lost hope when the spell didn't work out. After all, it doesn't work if the person is dead. Jason and Tim didn't give up hope. "The people who took Dick could have something to block out magic."
When Vixen couldn't find him, Jason wavered as their last hope dimmed. He still didn't give up, "There are many ways to cover up someone's scent."
It gets harder to believe Dick is out there when they haven't found anything in over a year. They don't give up, they won't ever, but it's hard. No one has stopped looking into it, even if they are just doing it to find out who is responsible for Dick's death.
"I found something!" Tim dashes to Jason. Their relationship has greatly improved since they started their search. Working together did wonders for them.
"You got a lead?" Jason doesn't grin, but his eyes brighten up. After so many dead ends, he'll take so much as a whisper of a lead.
"Yeah, it checks all the boxes too." Tim nods eagerly. Jason has no idea where the kid gets his energy from. Not with bags like those. Not that Jason is much better.
"Spill it." Jason lets Tim lead him to the batcomputer.
"The Court of Owls." Tim says it like it's supposed to mean something. It does sound sorta familiar, but Jason has no clue.
"Ok?"
"Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send the Talon for your head." Tim gives the creepiest rhyme Jason has ever heard before giving the second crepiest rhyme. "No one talks about them. Not a whispered word is said, for if you try to cross them, then, the Talon strikes you dead."
"Well, that's successfully creepy, but how does that have anything to do with Dick?" Jason gives his brother a quizzical look?
"He's a Talon. Probably. I mean, it all fits. Probably." Tim sits down in the chair and pulls up different tabs with his findings. The date for the rhymes all predate Dick's disappearance.
"A Talon? You think Dick is out there murdering people? I don't think he's even capable of it. Not with his guilt complex. Not to mention these are from way before Dick was taken." Jason shakes his head. He loves- tolerates Tim, but sometimes he has these wild theories not even Jason can get behind.
Tim looks at Jason like he said something crazy, a few emotions flicker across his face before shaking his head. "A Talon. Not The Talon. There's probably lots of them. I may not know all the details, but what I put together fits."
"That implies Dick is in Gotham. He's been right under our noses and we haven't had a clue. At the very least, the great Supes would have heard his heart beat." Jason argues.
"Not if Dick is dead!" Tim should not have that "aha" look on his face. Not when his words makes Jason's blood run cold before rising up to a simmer.
"He's not fucking dead." Jason growls, fists clenched until blood is drawn.
"That's not what I meant. I mean, it is, sorta. There's not really anything about the Talons. Just rumors and stories. But they all have a few things in common. Those who have seen their faces and lived to tell, all reported that they are horrifying monsters. Essentially walking corpses with golden eyes almost like an owl. They're enhanced, faster than humans, stronger, but emotionless killing machines. There's barely any sources, and a lot of gaps, but it makes sense. Surely they would have different heartbeats, assuming they have any at all. I'm not all too familiar with locator spells, but I imagine if the person went through a dramatic change, the spell wouldn't work. Plus, it doesn't work on corpses so if a Talon is more corpse than living, then that could also play a factor in it." Does Tim even hear what he's saying? Who he's talking about?
"So, what? You think Dick is some monster? More corpse than human? Do you realize how fucked up that is?" Jason slams his hand on the desk.
"Of course I know! I just- I just want my brother back." Tim stands up looking up at Jason before his eyes turn into pain. Then, the light is back. "This can be our chance. We can have Dick back."
"This is insane. If what you're saying is true, we won't be getting Dick back." Jason's voice goes quiet. He's rather Dick be dead than this- this scenario. If Dick is out there, a mindless puppet, the very thing he would hate to be, putting him down would be a mercy. One Jason doesn't want to be the one to grant.
"If there's a way to do it, there's a way to undo it." Tim says firmly.
"This is crazy. Your whole lead is based on a creepy rhyme made to creep people out. None of it is even real. You described vampires. Not anything real." Jason scoffs and walks away.
"Fine, if you won't help me I'll do it on my own." Tim plops down on his chair and begins typing away. Jason freezes. There's no way this is real, but...
"Screw you. I'll help. If it's true there's no way your scrawny ass will be able to take on some creepy vampire cult. You'll get yourself killed." Jason really hates Tim sometimes.
"Great! I'm sure B will agree!" The little shit manipulated him. What a bastard. Jason is so proud.
It happened by chance, really. Talon wasn't supposed to hear the conversation. He was on his way to another room, he was summoned for a mission of his own.
"Here is your target, Talon. His name is Timothy Drake. He is also Robin." One of his masters was talking to another Talon, but it hit Gray Son in a different way. One he has never, or at least doesn't remember, feeling before.
Robin. A woman. A circus. A fall. Flying over rooftops in bright colors.
Timothy Drake. Tim Drake. Tim. A Robin. A brother. Protect. Love.
None of these memories make sense. Nor should they be unlocking these emotions in him like he's human. He's not human. He's a weapon. Despite that, his instincts take over. Instincts he didn't know he had. He vaguely remembers the slaughter of the one who gave the orders to kill Tim. What he doesn't remember is somehow freezing the entire building and getting out himself. He remembers words ingrained into his mind not from the court. How he always needs contingency plans. He supposes he made one in the back of his mind because he knows that he followed some sort of plan perfectly.
The humans may have survived the cold, but he knows all the Talons died because he only barely made it out alive and he was next to the exit. What the court does not survive is him. The humans are leaving their building allowing him to take them out one by one.
This isn't all of the members. It's not even all of the Talons. In his mind, he knows what he has to do. He has to eradicate them all. Only then will Tim, the boy he doesn't really know, be safe. Somehow, betraying the only thing he really remembers is what makes the decision easy.
He knows all the members of the court. New and old. Maybe the only perk of being one of the top Talons. He knows where to find them and how to permanently get rid of the remaining Talons.
A member of a fight with someone who uses a cold gun flashes across his mind. He's also probably locked in Arkham and Dick knows exactly where the weapon will be. He can work with this.
"No. No!" Tim shoots up from the chair in front of the batcomputer. His hands slam against the desk so hard his coffee cup falls to the ground. He gains the entire family's attention.
Cass, the one closest to him, places a hand on his shoulder. 'What's wrong?' She signs.
"The Court, they're gone." Tim turns to her, panic to his eyes.
"Gone? Did they leave?" Jason asks. They had only recently confirmed their existence. They still never got proof that Dick is involved.
"No, they're dead! Even the Talons!" Tim runs his hand through his hair.
"I don't understand. Isn't that a good thing? They're super evil." Steph says.
"Not if Dick's part of it! If they're all dead, then- then-" Tim's breath is shallow.
"Calm down, buddy. We don't know for a fact that he was." Bruce tries.
"You don't even think he's alive." Tim snaps. "And it's the only thing that makes sense!"
"Hey, it's not. Tim, Timmy, it's fine. Do you really think that Dick is out there turned into a vampire? I'm not saying it's impossible, there's some batshit crazy stuff in this world. It's possible, but unlikely. You're chasing rumors, and how many rumors have we heard that were completely over exaggerated? There's other possibilities, remember? Other possibilities. We'll keep looking." Jason tries to keep him from spiraling. Tim's been doing that a lot lately.
"Keep looking. Right. He's out there." Tim says it numbly. He sits back down and stares at the computer screen blankly for a few moments before typing slowly.
"If he's out there, I'm sure you will find him, Master Tim." Alfred, steady as always, offers his assurance and as he cleans up the coffee mess.
"He's out there." Tim repeats.
Dick. That's his name. He thinks. Either that or his family (weird to think he has one of those) just insulted him all the time. As he actually takes the time to see Gotham, the news, the people, he hears about Bruce Wayne. He hears the name and dreams of old memories with the man. He's fairly certain that the man adopted him and raised him years ago. He remember fighting a lot with him, but also loving him. No matter how bad the fight, they always made up...eventually.
He knows there are more memories he has yet to unlock, but at least he knows he has a family to return to. Whether or not they'll accept him is a different story.
He knows what he used to look like. What he's supposed to look like. He knows he looks like a walking corpse. He knows he's not supposed to be strong as he is, agile as he is. He isn't supposed to be able to heal this fast. His blood should be red, not black. His eyes should be blue, not gold. He shouldn't look so discolored. He looks wrong. He doesn't look human anymore.
That's not the only problem either. Dick has killed people. Unwillingly and willingly. He has broken Bruce- B's rule over and over again. If they find out about what he has done, they will never accept him. They won't love the monster he has become. It's selfish, so selfish, but the ache to see them is too painful to do anything else. He can't tell them about any of it. He has to lie to them. About everything. There isn't a cure for what he is, but there's a way to hide what he is.
He does feel guilty for the next part, but he doesn't have a choice. Besides, Z knows how to get more. It's easy for him to take one of her glamour charms. He takes blue earrings and focuses on what he should look like. The magic takes over and when he looks at himself, his skin is the proper shade, his eyes are human and blue. He looks normal again. He can almost believe the lie.
Whoever has killed the court did not bother to hide the bodies. Murder isn't uncommon in Gotham, but it's never been to this level. Especially when they're all elites. Nobody knows the connection. Just that there's a psychopath going on a killing spree. Well, no one except the bats, birds and Gordon. While they didn't particularly like someone murdering a bunch of people, at least it's the court they're after. Morally grey, but not evil. Except Tim. Tim is pissed. He still believes that Dick was among the casualties, and that's not something he'll ever forgive. He just might commit murder himself if he comes face to face with the bastard.
Tim is mostly convinced that Dick is dead, but there's still that sliver of stubbornness that refuses to believe it. It keeps him from sleeping. Keeps him desperately searching on the computer.
"When was the last time you slept?" That's Dick's voice.
"I guess longer than three days if I'm hallucinating." Tim blinks. Been a while since he hallucinated Dick.
"I'm here Tim. Get some sleep." Dick places a hand on Tim's shoulder. It's cold. Is this the icy grip of death people always talk about? Wait, hold on. Dick is touching him. Hallucinations don't do that. He would know. He has had many.
"What the-"