Hello, everyone! So this was a little idea that's been playing around in my head since Endgame. If you haven't seen that episode yet, you might want to leave right now, because this fic pretty much spoils the entire show. Anyway, I seriously needed to see some Daddybats after that episode. This was inspired by a tear-jerking YouTube video called "Goodbye my Friend: Wally West tribute" by Rachull. Seriously, I cried so hard. The link is on my profile under Fanflicks if you're interested. Actually, go watch it right now. Go on, I can wait.

Have you watched it? Good. Now that the waterworks have started, enjoy!

Note: Everything more than two words long in italics is a flashback.

Blüdhaven
July 5, 00:31 EST

Nightwing staggered into his apartment in Blüdhaven, closing the door behind him and leaning heavily against the splintered wood. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. He peeled off his mask, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. This couldn't be real. Please, please be a bad dream.

The past two weeks he'd spent in a daze, robotically doing just what was necessary to get the earth cleaned up again after the near apocalypse. It had taken until his resignation from the team before it finally registered that he was gone.

Despite his closed eyes, a single tear slipped free, slowly winding down his cheek.

Not again. He had sworn he would never let it happen again.

Back and forth they swung, performing flips and twirls with practiced ease as the audience cheered in admiration below. Dick felt the familiar rush of excitement as he stood on the trapeze platform, waving one hand at the crowd. He reached down to untie his robe, ready to join his parents in the air, when something caught his eye: the line holding the trapezes aloft wasn't bolted down.

Horrified, he turned to face his smiling parents—his mom's hands held out invitingly, waiting to catch him.

Then the lines broke free.

He left his position by the door, stumbling to his bed and slumping down onto the mattress, dropping his head heavily in his hands.

What kind of hero was he if he couldn't even protect his best friend? His family?

Wally knew the risks. They all did. Dick knew that any moment, any mission could be his last. Cheating death just came with the job. But that still didn't change the fact that it hurt when fate decided the jig was up.

They seemed to hang suspended in the air for just a moment, their momentum carrying them forward. Her eyes met his, horror and fear gleaming in her blue irises. "Dick!"

Then they began to fall. Down, down, down they went, still as graceful as any bird. They held hands right up until they smashed into the ground, flesh and bone yielding to the solid earth, their blood creating crimson starbursts on the hard-packed dirt.

"No!" he screamed, hands out as if to catch them—to bring them back.

"Why me?" he whispered. "What have I ever done wrong?"

Of course, it was all his fault. The entire gig, beginning with Kaldur's "change of sides," had been a bomb just waiting to explode in his face. His first mistake was not telling anyone that Kaldur was still on their side. His second mistake: bringing Artemis into the whole mess. Wally had spent every single day since she "died" pestering Dick for status updates, alternating often between yelling at him for getting her involved in the first place and ensuring his girlfriend was okay.

Artemis had been the most logical choice for the death scene, being a member of the original team. Kaldur "killing" one of the new members just wouldn't have had the same evil flair since he didn't know them personally. But Dick had to wonder: was Artemis really the best choice?

The teen frowned at him, seemingly irritated. "Oh, come on, Nightwing. Afraid I'll destroy Robin's reputation? Stop worrying so much."

Dick gave him a look. "All I'm saying, Jason, is to be careful. Joker is crazy, and unpredictable. You think you've got him on the ropes, and then he totally changes the game on you."

Robin waved a dismissive hand in his direction. "I know, I know. Psychopath, look before I leap, all that jazz." He hopped into the front seat of the Batmobile, smirking at the former Robin. "See ya later, Dick."

Nightwing had to smile at the teen's customary arrogance. "See ya, Jase. Don't have too much fun without me, now."

Jason returned the smile, giving a small salute with his hand before settling back in his seat as the top closed over him and Batman.

The parking circle spun around, turning the Batmobile to face the entrance. Then the car shot off into the night, leaving the acrobat in a cloud of exhaust behind it.

Dick rubbed roughly at his eyes. He was so tired of this. Tired of leading a group of teens into danger every moment, tired of making life-changing decisions, tired of the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. But most of all, he was tired of watching everyone he cared about die before his eyes while he somehow lived on.

Dick ran up to the Batmobile as it pulled into the Cave, relief coursing through him. "Finally!" he called as Batman stepped out of the driver's seat. "Did you get him? What took you so long? It's 6:30 in the morning!"

Bruce silently turned to face him, the whites of his cowl meeting Dick's uncovered blues.

Dick slowed to a stop a few feet from the parking platform, his earlier relief shrouding with doubt. He glanced curiously at the driver's door, wondering why Jason hadn't burst out with a dramatic swirling of his cape before the car had come to a complete halt as he did every night, no matter his injuries. A lump formed in his throat. He almost didn't want to ask. "Um...where's Jason?"

His mentor shook his head stiffly, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and taking a deep breath through his nose.

Dick's eyes widened. "No. Don't...please don't tell me..."

Batman opened the passenger door, carefully pulling a red clad figure out of the front seat. Dick didn't dare come any closer. He could already tell there was a lot more red than just the previously bright colors on the tunic.

"No," he whispered.

Dick had failed everyone: Kaldur, Artemis, M'gaan, Superboy. Wally. He hadn't told anyone—hadn't trusted anyone—and that had been his downfall. Ever since the failsafe training simulation so many years ago, he had done everything in his power to not become The Batman. But by not trusting his team enough to tell him his plans, by risking his friends' lives for the sake of the world... He wasn't quite sure he had succeeded.

It had been Wally's choice to join the other speedsters. In fact, in the aftermath, Flash had said that there was no way he and Impulse could have stopped the crysalis without Wally's help. But Dick had to wonder what would have happened if he had just laid the whole scheme out in the open.

Nightwing ran into the swirl of snow, congratulations dying on his lips as he approached the exhausted speedsters: there was Impulse on his knees; there was Flash, falling to one knee just to the left of his future grandson; but where was—?

"Wait," said Artemis, tears brimming in her eyes as she turned to face Flash as Kaldur carefully helped him to his feet. "Where's Wally?"

Flash sighed as everyone in the clearing turned to face him, pain and grief etched on his features. "Artemis," he said gently, limping up and putting his hands on her shoulders. "He wanted me to tell you—"

Artemis's eyes widened in realization. "No," she whispered. "No."

"—he wanted me to tell you that he loved you," Flash finished.

Artemis stared at him in shock for a fraction of a second. Then she began to cry, collapsing onto the frozen ground. M'gann caught her as she fell, hugging her friend tightly as Artemis sobbed in her arms.

Dick stared at Artemis, then turned to face Kaldur, not quite comprehending what had just happened. Aqualad's normally calm gaze reflected grief, his face twisted as if he was in pain.

Dick turned back to Artemis, a cold, heavy blanket settling over his previous excitement, weighing him down like a lead jacket. Wally was gone. And it was all his fault.

A low creak echoed through the room, and Dick's head shot up in surprise as his door swung slowly open, one hand going instinctively to his utility belt while the other shoved his mask back over his eyes.

A familiar shadowy figure slipped through the doorway, closing it behind him. The cowled features became visible as he turned toward him, the white eye-slits fixing on the acrobat.

Dick relaxed his hold on his belt, letting the mask fall from his hands and flutter to the floor below. Anger boiled up inside of him as he looked up to meet Batman's level gaze. Now he decided to show up? Where was he when the Reach invaded the earth? Where was he when the War World attacked? Where was he when the apocalypse started?

He glared at his mentor, opening his mouth with the intention of yelling at him for leaving the galaxy, wanting to tell him just how much he'd been through, about the impossible decisions he had to make that ended in the death of his best friend. Instead, all that escaped was a hoarse whisper, in a voice that didn't even sound his own: "I never got to say goodbye."

Six words. Just six little words he had repeated on too many occasions. And now he was saying them again.

The tears began falling before he could stop them. He bowed his head, ashamed of showing weakness in front of the man who had raised him, but unable to help himself as his grief caught up, threatening to drown him.

He sensed more than heard the figure gliding across the room toward him, only half aware as the mattress dipped beside him, the old bed frame creaking in protest as the Kevlar-encased man joined the young adult on the bed.

A familiar weight settled over his shoulders, black leathery fabric whispering around his lithe frame and falling across his lap. Dick didn't even hesitate before burrowing his face into the man's chest, just letting the tears flow as Bruce wrapped the cape tightly around them, holding the acrobat silently as Dick let himself go.

And despite the intense grief that drove him into this state of fragility, for the first time since he had watched six members of the League fly off into space on a most-likely one-way trip, Dick felt perfectly safe.

So what do you think? A little all over the place? Confusing? Drab? Drawn out? Whatever it is, let me know in a review! Constructive criticism is accepted and appreciated.

Also, I used Dick's origin from The Batman cartoon. I like this version because it actually has Dick about to get on the trapeze, and kinda has the dramatic after effect of 'I could've died too.' Although I wouldn't doubt Dick sometimes wishes he had just fallen with them :P

This really didn't come out as dramatic as I originally wanted it... But hey, my two writing classes have really messed me up with all the structured formats and essays. Seriously, until the tail-end of April, I couldn't seem to get ANY sort of fanfiction out... I think I kind of went a little overboard with the 'no structure' freedom.

Thanks for reading, and check out my other YJ fics!