Dick Grayson one shots

The blessing and curse of being a talon

Bruce tried to cover as much as he could, but eventually the secret had to come out.

—

"Red!" Dick yelled as he dove between Tim and the attacker he'd had his back facing.

A bullet ripped through Dick's arm, splattering blood across Tim's face as he turned.

Dick grimaced, a cold ball of dread settling in his stomach. There was no way he'd be able to explain this away...

The rest of the assailants were taken down quickly before the rest of the bats turned their attention to their oldest brother.

"Wing, you alright?" Jason asked, reaching out a hand to stop his brother from moving away so he could examine his arm.

"There's... there's nothing there. Not even a mark," Tim said awestruck.

"That's not possible," Damian quipped. "I saw blood, and your suit is torn."

Dick glanced at Bruce, silently pleading with him to have some sort of an out to this.

Bruce sighed. "I think it's about time we told you..." he said.

"Told us what?" Jason asked, suspicion rising.

"Nightwing has enhanced healing abilities... given to him by the court of owls. Enough so that he has even come back from the dead," Bruce said gravely.

"That sounds like a good thing?" Tim said. "So why do you sound like someone just kicked your puppy?"

This time the answer came from Dick. "It's not a pleasant experience... It wasn't... I... I don't view it as a blessing as much as it is a curse."

Jason seemed to soften. "Thanks for telling us," he said, throwing an arm around the elder.

"You're welcome?" Dick replied.

—

Swords flashed throughout the alley, the whole bat family fighting side by side as they hadn't done in a while.

One masked attacker led Dick away from the group. No one paid much attention. They hadn't really felt the need to watch over him since learning of the seeming immortality he possessed.

The exact thing Bruce had tried to prevent.

Once the masked woman had led Dick away and up onto the roof of a nearby building she discarded her sword, drawing another from a sheath on her back. "Finally," she hissed. "I found you talon."

Dick froze, her glowing golden blade seemed to draw him to it like a magnet. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and just touch it. Something in him knew that blade held the power to end him. And it filled him with fear... fear and morbid curiosity.

Snapping out of his trance, Dick dodged a sweeping blow from the sword, flipping backward and pulling out his escrima sticks.

"Your time is coming to an end," the woman said twirling the blade. "And I think you can feel it."

Dick dodged another flurry of attacks, too busy blocking blows to land any of his own.

"I'm surprised," Dick's attacker said with a grunt. "The others simply stood there and stared as I took their lives."

Dick growled, bringing one escrima stick up in an arc, landing a blow on the woman's jaw, knocking her to the ground.

A throbbing pulse drew Dick's attention to his shoulder where a small tear in his uniform revealed a cut. Instead of knitting itself together as it normally would, the wound continued spilling blood, faster than should be possible.

An arc of gold caught Dick's attention, but it was too late. The blade carved a gash across his chest, leeching the very life from his body.

Dick fell to the ground, his head going fuzzy as he watched the tainted crimson of his blood spill out across the roof. Coating his suit, his lips, the ground.

This was it. This was the end.

—

Bruce landed at his son's side, knowing it was pointless, but still desperately trying to apply pressure to the slash that ran across Dick's torso. The younger's chest was still.

"Come back to me," Bruce pleaded. "Please."

There was no response from the young hero.

"B... the woman's sword... she went straight for wing... I... I think he's gone," Tim said, his voice seeming so small compared to the emptiness that threatened to consume his mentor.

"Nightwing," Bruce said, his voice heavy with grief. Hoping desperately that his son would wake up like he had before.

Nothing happened, no movement, no breath in, no wounds stitching themselves together. Only a cold and motionless body.

Bruce sat for a long moment in silence, feeling numb, as if his heart had been ripped from his chest...

There would be no second chances this time. His son was gone.