I love this AU with all my heart and I will subject you all to it

If you haven't read my he's a child again book then this will be hard to understand but good on you if you still want to try!! 

ALSO I HAVE MY COMPUTER BACK :D

It's with a motivation they haven't seen before that Dick begins working on a new Nightwing suit. His eyes are bright with a light they thought died when they lost their version of the acrobat as he scribbles down new ideas. They couldn't hide their initial disappointment at his insistence on rejoining the vigilante world since it had taken so many crucial experiences from him and given him plenty of traumatic memories even if he couldn't remember them all. Yet when they saw him working on his suit, experimenting with the design so he could both respect the source material whilst making it his own too, they couldn't very well stay disappointed. His excitement was damn near infectious and spread faster than a cold in a nursery. All of them had wondered at some point how Bruce ever allowed such a tiny guy to be Robin but now they could understand why. He was near impossible to say no to. That and he'd been hellbent on vengeance and would've become a vigilante anyway.

Alfred helped him with sewing and convincing him that pants were needed even if they provided less grip than skin. It was an uphill battle that was only won because of the fabric they eventually landed on and allowing fingerless gloves. Hopefully, he'd get enough blisters that he would wear normal gloves but the kid was as stubborn as he was cute. He worked carefully to keep the charm of the Robin suit whilst emulating the Nightwing inspiration but he wouldn't let anyone other than Alfred see it until his "premier" night. 

Everything had started off well. Nightwing had basked under the compliments to his new suit, the reassurances that he was ready to get back out there and he couldn't wait to take on Gotham once again. He originally wanted to tag along with Red Hood but it was deemed a bad move considering the case he was currently working on involved lots of blood and guts although he promised they'd patrol together at some point. That had been a slight disappointment but Batman was free to take him since Robin was working solo on a series of bank robberies. Nightwing wouldn't say this aloud but he was thankful for the dynamic, he'd already mixed up the fact he was no longer Robin enough times that it stopped being funny.

Around an hour in, Batman settled for a stakeout near a drug den but suggested that Nightwing could do a little patrol around the surrounding area as long as he stayed away from the building they were surveying. It was a quiet part of town around this time in the morning so Nightwing had spent a good time just trying to find one of the many stray cats that patrolled Gotham. He wondered if Selina still took to feeding them and giving them homes during the storms. He'd talked to her a few times, honestly, she hadn't aged a day, but they never spoke for long. Maybe because it was weird he was a kid and she was mostly there for Bruce. Apparently, they were together but he never knew what their deal was. 

He'd eventually found some strays hiding near a bunch of cardboard boxes and tried to lead them out, keeping his distance in case they were feral. After your third tetanus shot you learn you're not supposed to mess with cats you don't know. As he tried to lead them out, he heard someone talking on the phone. Normally he wouldn't care but this time he realised he recognised the voice. He didn't know where from and it wasn't familiar enough for him to name but he knew it. It also made him feel sick with dread and it lingered around his mind like a bad omen. Quickly abandoning the cats, he looked around for the source of the voice. It echoed through the empty alleyway, bouncing off the walls and making it hard to determine its origin but Nightwing is dead set on finding the man. 

Nightwing felt like a tiger stalking its prey as he prowled the streets in search of the voice but he was certain that the wash of anger that took over him was completely his own even if he'd never felt that angry before. That was a lie. He'd felt this before only it had been buried underneath enough pure grief and appeased by enough change that he'd never recognised how brightly it burned within him. The man's voice was familiar because the man himself was familiar. He was the man that shot him. That was the man who had trapped him here, devastated a family and enabled his torture. Nightwing felt his face burn with rage and he narrowed his eyes at the man who still hadn't noticed he'd been followed. Instead, he remained on the floor discussing a recent football game whilst carrying his groceries in his free hand. 

"Hey!" Nightwing yelled. His shout was ignored at first so he ran over to the man with his weapon in his hands. "Turn around!"

"Are you talking to- Nightwing?"

"Yeah, I am talking to you," he replied, grinning that he'd been recognised. His grip tightened on his Escrima sticks. 

"Look kid, it was just a job. Slade is the one you're after."

"Hope it's enough to cover the hospital stay." He twirled his weapon like a marching band baton and took advantage of the surprise to advance on the criminal. He jabbed the prongs into the man's thigh, feeling the muscle beneath it spasm causing the criminal to fall to the floor and release his grip on the other escrima stick. Nightwing pulled back briefly to grab it and screw them together to make a long bo staff. "You're gonna pay for what you did."

"I was paid to do it!" he shot back, clutching at his thigh as it continued to tremble. "I had no idea what would happen when I shot you."

"Oh really, that changes everything," Nightwing replied sarcastically. He brought his staff up before throwing it down, hitting the man on the ribs with enough force to at least bruise. Hopefully, there'd be a long cylindrical bruise there for months. The man kicked out, getting a lucky hit that stuck him right in the stomach and made him stumble back a few paces. Winded but determined, Nightwing pushed through the pain and began his assault. He hit whatever was closest and from the pained grunts and whines he could hear, he knew he was succeeding in causing pain. He didn't care how much the criminal hurt, he didn't care if he was hitting him in all the wrong places or if he was splitting skin with the force of the blows. All he knew to do and cared about was getting his point across. Everything he'd gone through since coming back was this man's fault. His stupid lucky break was what got Nightwing trapped here. "How much did you get huh?" Nightwing snarled. "How much was it to fuck up my life? Was it enough to get your shit rocked by a pre-teen?"

"Hey Bats," Red Hood began. The hero turned to him with a long-suffering sigh and nodded for him to continue. "Where's the little guy?"

"Nightwing?" he clarified much to Robin's discontent. 

"Yeah. Where is he?"

"He's supposed to be with you. You two left an hour ago," he replied, his voice growing tight with anxiety.

"No, I said he couldn't come with me because I was dealing with the butcher serial killer and you agreed that he shouldn't see that so soon," Red Hood reminded him. "You said that he should go with Robin to investigate the bank robbery." Attention then turned to Robin who looked confused by the development.

"Father never told me that," he replied. It wasn't defensive enough to be a lie so attention returned to the dark knight who was now wracking his brain for where Nightwing would be in the wake of the mix-up. Only his mind drew a blank. He hadn't heard anything from the tiny vigilante in a while so he couldn't have been with him for long if he stayed behind. Neither of the others took Nightwing with them either so he couldn't have followed them for long. 

"You don't know where he is?" Red Hood exclaimed when the silence continued.

"I was sure he was with one of you!"

"Well, he isn't!" Red Hood shook his head and pressed a finger to his comm unit. "Nightwing?You alright, kid?" 

There was a crackle which at least meant that the earpiece was still active but there was no reply. 

"Nightwing, answer," Batman demanded, hoping that if he pulled rank they'd get a reply. Still, there was nothing on the other end other than the static that told them it was still working. He sighed in aggravation and worry.

"Is Nightwing gone?" Red Robin asked through the line. "Or are you doing a check?"

"We've lost sight of him," Batman replied tactically. "Have you seen him?"

"Not recently. Last I saw he was playing with a stray cat near the Dunkin."

"You fucking lost Nightwing?" Spoiler bit out. 

"Batman lost him. The fucker forgot where he was sending the kid," Red Hood snapped. There was a pause.

"He's on 54th Street, in the alley between the convenience store and the pharmacy. He seems to be stationary but I've got no eyes on him. Cameras are down," Red Robin informed them. He didn't sound all that worried despite the implications it could mean. 

"I'll get him," Robin announced unceremoniously. He could sense that Batman and Red Hood were due to a fight, having barely kept it together this long without fully snapping at one another, so he wanted out before they could properly lash out. He was never good at calming things down anyway. 

"Thanks, Demon Spawn," Red Hood muttered. He nodded before heading off to fetch his little brother, ignoring the raised voices behind him.

A scream as he closed in on the area had him running faster before his mind could remind him that Nightwing no longer screamed with that deep of a voice. Someone else was screaming from that location and by the sounds of it, they were screaming for their lives. Whoever it was, they were clearly terrified and begged for help in between screams of pain. Still, Robin forced himself to keep the same fast pace because whatever was hurting that man could be hurting Nightwing too or may have already hurt him. Then the scream cut off into a gurgled noise. He turned the corner down the alley and stopped short. 

Nightwing, seemingly blind and deaf to his surroundings judging by the blank look on his face, was beating the hell out of someone. All of his weight was put into landing blows with his staff so hard that Robin feared the metal was denting and the person beneath him was bleeding internally. The gurgled noise was coming from the man's mouth filling with blood as he leaked down the side of his face and created a disgusting concoction of spit and blood that pooled on the floor beneath them. 

Robin felt his stomach twist at the sight. He knew what his Nightwing was capable of. Joker had died by his hand before and only clung to life due to intervention. He knew that his Nightwing had become Robin in the first place because the alternative was allowing him out into the world to carry out his deadly vengeance. He knew that his Nightwing had an intense history of anger blinding him and grappled with it enough to push it behind a happy-go-lucky facade. Yet he, for some reason, didn't see that in this Nightwing. He assumed that the very thing that made Robin exist had disappeared by the time he was Robin for a few months but as he stared dumbfounded at the assault taking place before him, he realised he was wrong to do so. 

The man turned to him and his eyes widened as he reached out a hand in a silent plea for help which finally got Robin back to running. He rushed forward and grabbed the staff before it could be thrown back down into the bloody pinata beneath them. The boy struggled against him but he pushed him back with enough force that he fell to the ground. Robin had to give it to him, then younger was already getting up in preparation to fight, so he rushed to kneel over him and pin his wrists to the ground being careful to avoid the legs kicking out.

"Ow! Hey-"

"What the hell are you thinking?" Robin snapped. "You could've killed him!"

"Get off!"

"You could've murdered him!"

"He's the reason your brother is dead!" Nightwing snarled. The revelation lit a fire in Robin but he knew he couldn't let his guard down or he'd quickly lose the upper hand he'd gained.

"You took an oath," he stated for lack of better words. 

"An oath I've broken before apparently."

"You're too young to break it again." To his horror, tears pooled in Nightwing's eyes and his struggles went from planned to weak and panicked. He cringed but couldn't let up the pressure on the younger's wrists even if he wanted to wrap him in a hug. "Take a deep breath."

"No, I don't want to!"

"You're going to calm down whether you like it or not, do you understand me?" He shook his head. "Nightwing. Do. You. Understand. Me." He nodded slowly, slightly fearful of the new tone the older was taking with him. "Five things you see."

"You," he bit out. Robin didn't rise to it. He knew too well that the defensive tone was to deal with anger rather than sympathy. Sometimes it seemed easier but it never truly was. His silence seemed to portray this and Nightwing continued. "The sky, convenience store, the pharmacy sign and wires? The ones that are electric." 

"Four things you can hear."

"Cars. Him gurgling- Is he choking?" Robin turned a little to look over his shoulder.

"No, he's on his side."

"Okay uhm, the sign is buzzing and you're talking."

"Three things you can touch."

"The ground, you and uh I guess the gloves?" 

"Two things you can smell?"

"Blood and uh and sweat."

"Last one, what do you taste?"

"Spit."

"That will have to do. I'm going to let go and attend to him. You are going to answer your comm unit. Do you understand me?" Nightwing nodded nervously as the adrenaline slowly bled out of him. He remained frozen even when he was freed as realisation hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He'd beaten someone hard enough they were choking on blood. The anger he desperately tried to prove he was in control of was very clearly out of control. He was in so much trouble.

All Nightwing could do was stare as the older tended to the man he'd beaten without restraint until he heard a crackle and Red Robin call his name. He raised a shaking hand to his comm unit and pressed down to answer.

"Hello?" his tentative voice greeted. It shocked even him to hear it so fragile when just before he'd been steeled with anger. He hated the way it shook and how horribly small it made him sound. 

"There he is, Robin found you then," Red Robin replied. He couldn't tell if his obviously wrong tone was being ignored or if it had gone unnoticed. He doubted the latter. 

"Nightwing, hey," Red Hood greeted back immediately. "Where'd you go buddy?"

"I uh- I saw someone. Followed them down a street." He sounded distant, he knew he did, but he couldn't tether himself back to the world when he was watching Robin perform CPR.

"Are you alright?" Batman asked.

"I think I killed someone." Before they could ask anything about that, they received an equally concerning addition.

"We need an ambulance at our location now. He'll live but I believe his lung is punctured so we don't have long," Robin announced.

"Nightwings?"

"No. The man he was beating."

There's a tense silence and Nightwing just wants the ground to swallow him up then spit him out a week later when everyone is too worried about his disappearance to confront him. He briefly thinks about running away but he could barely feel the tingling of sore hands from gripping his weapon too tight let alone feel his legs. He tilted his head in morbid curiosity, waiting for someone to say something but it remains silent.

"Am I in trouble?"

On the other end of the line, he doesn't see how Batman looks to Red Hood for advice. It's a rare moment that wouldn't have happened if anyone was there to see it and it would be denied if asked about but for one brief moment, Batman is desperately staring at his son that he'd taken the wrong course with before and asking him to tell him what to do now to not make the same mistake again. Red Hood doesn't say anything and only catches his gaze before letting out a long sigh.

"Yeah chum, I think you are," Batman finally replied, rather regretfully. He nodded slowly but he didn't really feel the information sink in. 

"I was just so mad. He trapped me here. It's- It's his fault!" It was the man's own fault. 

Nightwing had no idea what his name was, he'd never thought to ask and he didn't really want to know. If all it took was a paycheck to ruin someone's life, he didn't want to know their name. He didn't want to spit it out like he did with Tony Zucco's name. The man frankly didn't deserve any infamy from having his name known. Nightwing was just so mad at him for everything that he'd been through that he hadn't thought that such a person had a name. They may have a family. His eyes slowly dragged over to the dropped bag from the convenience store. Was that for someone waiting for him to come home? Was that money for someone who really did need it and had no other choice? 

"We know kid, we know," Red Hood assured him. Of course, he'd be on Nightwing's side. That came as no surprise. It had come as a surprise that Robin wasn't just as supportive but that was neither here nor there. The rest of the family was quiet on the matter of right and wrong, what was karma and what was going too far. Sure Red Hood said we but people did that all the time to pretend they had a united front. 

"I'm sorry." Not sorry for beating the man, not yet at least, but sorry for the bother he was causing. The blemish this was on the vigilante name he'd inherited. Nobody replied to him and he decided that was because they were concentrating on getting his victim some help and making their way over not because they don't appreciate his apology. He had to believe that. So he moved his hand away from his earpiece, dragged his knees to his chest despite the pain it caused and perched his chin on them as he watched Robin save a life he wasn't sure was going to make it. If the thought of the man being dead brought him some peace, he didn't voice it.

Nobody says anything as they contact the police and the ambulance service. Nightwing is vaguely aware of a well-meaning paramedic trying to ask him questions because he knows for a fact that he's lost all the colour in his face and he isn't truly there. He's more aware of the way she's gently ushered away by his family who look far too tired to yell at him. That and it would be a rather damning look to yell at a child curled up on the floor with a hundred-yard stare. He felt Red Hood grab his arm and pull him to his feet, aware that he was being too easy to guide and manipulate. 

"We'll get you warmed up, yeah?" Spoiler told him. He hadn't seen her until she spoke but he'd simply blinked at the new stimulus rather than jumped away from it. "Think you've gone into a little shock but we'll have you sorted in no time."

"Nobody is mad. That bastard got what he deserved," Red Hood added perhaps to shake him out of his blank state. It didn't. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the acrobat knew he was in trouble for what he did. He should've called it in and subdued his target rather than beat his victim. "Better than my opening night as Red Hood. I had a duffel bag of heads." 

"I'm not sure that's helping right now," Spoiler said not unkindly. 

"Yeah, I guess not."

"We're gonna need to get you some anger management classes."

"I should go to juvie," Nightwing croaked. He can't help the bitter laughter that slipped out after he spoke because isn't that a funny statement? He finally deserved to end up in that hell hole. "That's where kids who do this go, isn't it?"

"It's not where you're going," his older brother stated with finality. He didn't dispute the point that Nightwing most likely deserved to go there so the younger hummed in response and let himself be dragged along to a car. In a brief moment of lucidity, he noticed that there were more people behind him and he couldn't help but feel like a dangerous criminal being escorted down courthouse steps to be delivered to some prison where he'd serve his sentence. Would this be the push that made everyone regret keeping him around or was this a blip considering that two of his brothers had body counts? He shook his head at the absurdity. 

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he muttered but he has no intention of vomiting. What he meant to say and what more accurately described his feeling was that he felt faint. His grip was slipping on the reality around him and he was beginning to register the dark spots invading his vision. It was far too tempting to time skip this awkward section of time so he embraced the darkness and went limp. When he woke up, things would be better. Probably.