It felt like he was flying. No; there was always that rush of falling that started from the pit of his gut and swooped up to his throat with flying. This felt like floating. He was weightless, nothing tethering him to the ground. He was made of smoke, hanging listlessly in the air with nowhere to go. It was almost... peaceful, except that he knew that being on the ground was important. It was dark, and he didn't know if his eyes were opened or shut; he couldn't move, but he did not need to move, he was floating. Floating was... Floating was bad, he wanted to plant his feet in the dirt and spring up to his hands.

He was... Where was he? Who was he? He wanted to move, but he couldn't. It was so dark, black like a night sky but without the stars. He wanted stars and grass and to run and... and somebody. His mind ached for something familiar and comforting.

Red, there was something glowing and red. Had it always been there? No, it had been black and now there was red. Two shimmering dots, like eyes. It was not comforting, it made him feel sick and scared.

Laughter filled the dark space and suddenly he felt that familiar pull in his middle of falling. He was falling, falling, falling, with nothing and no one to catch him.

His breathing came out harsh and unsteady as the roar of the battle around him thrummed in his ears. Nightwing scrambled to his feet, his spine aching from his recent surprise encounter with a tree. In the back of his mind, he heard Batman's voice reprimanding him for moving with a possible back injury, but all he could see was Robin with his fists raised as the air around him crackled with power. Klarion, the witch boy, hovered above the battle, arms stretched out as red energy streaked from his fingertips. He cackled gleefully as Jason took a swing. Nightwing saw agony flicker over Robin's face as he put weight down on his bruised ankle and that brief distraction took momentum away from his punch. He ran, desperately, to push Jason out of the way as Klarion dodged the blow with ease and directed the same magical attack that had slammed Dick into a tree towards the youngest member of the team.

Jason. That name was important to him. He felt guilt, anger, and fierce love wrapped up in one messy package with that name. Guilt; he should be a better big brother, spend more time with the kid. Anger; how fucking dare Bruce fire him and bring in a second Robin only weeks later. Did he really need to name him Robin? Robin had been his mother's name for him, and fuck Bruce for giving it away like that. He had no right. Love; the kid was spunky, quick on his feet and tongue, had a huge smile and a desperate need to be accepted that he hid underneath a prickly personality. He would die to protect this kid.

Is that what happened?

Did he die?

He was laying on something, he could feel the press of the ground against his back. It didn't hurt, even though he vividly remembered the explosion of fire in his back when he collided with the unyielding bark of the oak. His limbs still felt immobile, though he could feel something rough and rigid with his fingertips. Everything was a dull shade of red, that pulsed every couple of seconds. The eyes were still there, just above his head. Not just eyes, a face. A face with burning crimson eyes and a smile that promised pain instead of pleasure.

He was Richard Grayson.

He was Nightwing.

And boy, was he in big trouble.

Jason's face shifted from agony to cold dread as a bolt of scarlet lightning headed straight for his chest. Nightwing wasn't going to get there in time, there was no way. He wasn't fast enough. The lightning had grazed his arm, but it had still been enough to send him flying twenty feet away. The bone in his upper arm was probably fractured. There was no way anyone would survive a direct hit, especially not tiny thirteen year old Jason, who hadn't even been Robin for a year. Jason was going to die, and it was all Dick's fault.

He would never be able to face Batman ever again.

He would never be able to face Bruce ever again.

"Gotcha, kid!" One second Robin was there, the next he was kneeling by Dick, face ashen and lips trembling. Wally pushed up his goggles and gave them both a strained, but pumped smile. Dick had never before been so grateful for his speedy best friend. He could kiss Wally; but there was no time. Klarion screamed as Superboy managed to get close enough to land a solid hit. "Aqualad, Zatanna, and I are going to distract Klarion while Artemis and M'gann go after the cat. Get Robin out of here and call for backup. We're going to need Doctor Fate on this one."

"No!" Jason clutched Dick's arm, his eyes pleading. "If you call the League, Batman's gonna know I came on this mission after he told me no!"

Dick grabbed Jason's hand holding his arm and gave him his best reassuring smile. "It's okay, Little Wing, I'm the one who snuck you out after he told both of us no." Sure, he was friggin pissed at Bruce and Bruce was going to be absolutely fucking livid, but they needed backup, desperately. He had almost watched Jason die. His relationship with Bruce was already strained to the point of snapping anyway, it wouldn't matter if Batman threw him out, again, as long as nobody died tonight. "I'll take the full brunt of his fury, let's just get you somewhere safe, okay?"

Jason's cheeks puffed up and his eyes blazed with frustration. "I can still fight!"

"Not on that ankle, you can't." Dick chided.

Wally rolled his eyes. "Neither of you are in any condition to fight. Don't think I didn't see that impromptu makeout sesh you had with the tree, Dick. Get out and call for backup- oh, shit! Artemis!"

"Wakey wakey, tighty-nighty," Klarion crooned nasally and sat down on his chest. The air should have rushed out of his lungs and he should feel like his ribs were squishing his organs, but he felt nothing. "Oh, you are awake! You just can't move or talk or do anything really, except listen to little ole me. How exciting this must be for you!"

Dick imagined spitting a large wad of saliva right into Klarion's gaping maw. It was a great mental picture, but he couldn't even twitch his fingers. He gave him a Batman-level glare instead, or at least, he hoped he did.

Klarion tisked and waved his finger in the air. "You have been a very naughty boy, Nightwing, and I'm going to have to punish you." His face, which had been light and innocent contorted into something vile and dark. "Do you remember what you did?"

Jason was safely hiding at the rendezvous point where the Justice League would arrive and Dick felt like he could breathe again. Batman had been right, just like always. It had been too soon to take Jason into the field. Dick might have been working with the team when he was thirteen, but he had also had years of experience under his belt. Jason still had problems aiming with a batarang. He would get there, Dick had no doubt, but he needed more training.

He should have listened to Bruce, but he had just been so fucking angry. He had dragged Jason into his teenage rebellion and had almost gotten him killed. In the distance, he could see the storm of red energy. He had to get back and help hold Klarion off until Doctor Fate could get there and seal him away once more. The witch boy was more powerful than ever now, and that was his fault too. Dick took a running step forward and

And it was like a bullet to his spine. A strangled noise escaped his mouth as his knees buckled and he crashed to the ground. Oh god, oh god, oh god, it hurt. He was lying, completely exposed, in an open field as the noise of the battle drew closer. He needed to move, now, but even breathing sent streaks of pure pain throughout his entire body. A whimper tore through his chest as he reached into his belt and drew out a batarang.

Moving with a possible back injury always made things a thousand times worse. Bruce was going to kill him. That is, if he didn't die here.

His lungs forgot how to work as there was a crash nearby, and an outraged roar sounded practically on top of him.

Klarion pressed his face so close Dick could feel the heat of the gray, decaying skin. "I see you do remember. You killed my precious Teekl, stabbed him right through the eye with that sharp toy of yours."

It was self-defense, Dick wanted to protest. He had moved just as the enormous and ferocious monster of a cat tried to sink its teeth through his belly. He hadn't meant to kill it, honestly, but better it than him.

"Now," Klarion continued. "I can't exist in your earthly plane if I don't have something there to anchor me, I'm sure you know, you rude and naughty boy. You recall this ring, right?" Klarion held up his hand to show off a plain silver band. "The one you and your friends tried so hard to keep me from getting? It makes me more powerful than I have ever been, and I was able to cast one last spell even as you spitefully sent me back here. I was so, so angry at you, tighty-nighty. It wasn't fair! I was having so much fun and then you killed Teekl! My Teekl! I loved him! Well," He paused and his face morphed back into contemplative. "We did enjoy the same things, like torture and chaos, but love is such an icky word."

Klarion leaned back and tapped Dick on the nose. "With the last bit of strength I had, I cast a spell on you. A nasty one too. Nuh-uh, I didn't kill you if that's what you're thinking. I erased you."

He licked his lips and smiled so sweetly, Dick would have thought he was politely asking for more food if there wasn't a crazed look in his eyes. "In that earthly plane you threw me out of, you no longer exist. Nightwing didn't die, he was never born."

The tension was thick as Batman strode into the meeting room in Mount Justice. Robin sunk low into his seat as his mentor's eyes passed over him and shamed welled up in his gut. His first real mission with the team had gone straight to hell because he goofed up and let Klarion get the ring. Even the members of the Justice League looked antsy. Flash, Red Tornado, and Doctor Fate had been the ones to answer their cry to help, but the battle had been over before they had even arrived.

Jason's ankle still throbbed from when he tripped over a tree root. It wasn't broken, but mostly likely sprained. Alfred was going to rip him a new one once Batman had dragged him back to the cave by his ear. Batman wouldn't have tripped over a stupid tree root. He wanted to hide his injury from his mentor as long as possible, but he knew that they would eventually find out. There was this one time on patrol where a goon got a lucky shot in and landed a pretty good punch. Jason had tried to hide just how much his ribs ached, but Alfred had caught him trying to apply bruise ointment himself and had given him a stern lecture. It was always better, Alfred had informed him, to report injuries right away. What if the bruising on his chest was actually an injury much deeper than surface damage? But... But what if Batman found out Jason had hurt himself on a fucking root and decided that he wasn't worthy? Not qualified enough to be Robin?

He needed to be Robin, it was the best thing that has ever happened to him. Bruce had tried to assure him that his place in the Wayne household was permanent - he had even adopted Jason for god's sake. Even so, Jason couldn't shake the feeling that one day Bruce would come to his senses and see Jason for who he really was; a child trying to be something he wasn't, trying to fill shoes that were too big for him.

At least his twisted ankle wasn't the worse injury the team had obtained. Artemis sat in the back, leaning on Wally while he finished fitting her arm into a temporary cast. Broken arms aside, things could have turned out much worse. For a split second, Jason heard the crack of powerful energy turning towards him as a red glow filled his vision. His breath caught in this throat and he pushed the panic aside. At that moment, Jason had been so sure that he was about to die. The speedster may be annoying, but he did have him to thank for saving his life.

The Dark Knight turned to Aqualad and growled, "Mission report."

Kaldur stood, his back straight and his face expressionless. "Approximately 20 hours ago one of our sources received a tip that a ring possibly containing magical elements was discovered in a sunken shipwreck. There were rumours that certain members of the light were interested in obtaining the ring, so we. . . I, decided to have the team shadow the transport vehicle."

"Without League permission." Batman cut in with a dour frown.

Kaldur responded with a frown of his own. "We have done a few missions now without League permission. Most of us are adults now."

"Most are adults. What the hell were you thinking bringing a thirteen year old? My sidekick, without my permission."

One thing Robin really admired about the older boy was his ability to remain calm even under extreme stress. He shoved the rage he felt as being referred to as sidekick and kid down. Kaldur's fingers twitched, but that was the only reaction to Batman's harsh tone. Jason wanted to stand up and defend him, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He knew that as soon as they got to the cave he was probably grounded for life. There was no need to have his cookie privileges revoked on top of that.

"We brought Robin along to..." Aqualad's voice started out strong and confident, but faded out suddenly as a look of confusion overtook him. "...to hack into the security feeds..."

The other day Jason had been telling a story to Alfred, and there was this particular word he wanted to use to describe the situation, but for the life of him he just couldn't remember what it was. It had been on the tip of his tongue, right there, but no matter how hard he searched he couldn't find the right word. He was getting the same feeling now; there was something wrong here, and he could feel his mind stretching to figure out what, but he drew a blank. There was something wrong... so wrong...

"If you wanted a hacker, you should have brought in Batgirl." Batman rebutted. Jason saw his lips turn downward ever so slightly, like he too had a strange feeling about this whole thing but couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Robin is learning, but he is not at a mission-ready level."
"No," Kaldur shook his head, his eyebrows drawn together pensively. "I called in a hacker, but I do not think it was Robin. We have never had somebody so young on the team, and I do not believe that I would have so recklessly put him in danger if there was not somebody close to watch him."

"The youngest we let join was Wally," Flash injected. "Even then I was nervous about sending him on missions. Kaldur is right; it doesn't sound like him to bring Robin on a mission without your permission, Batman."

Wally sputtered in protest. "I was almost 16 when I joined! Conner wasn't even three months old! He was the youngest."

Everyone in the room ignored Kid Flash's mutterings of "letting a damn baby onto the team and then calling me the youngest. Hell, Zatanna was younger than me when she joined,".

"The truck was attacked," Kaldur continued. "We fought, but Klarion ended up with the ring,"

Again, Jason felt himself sink with shame. It had been his job to guard while the others fought of the witch boy, but he had taken his eyes off the ring for three seconds. Just enough time for that stupid cat to snatch it and run away.

"We tried to retreat into the woods to regroup, but Klarion put on the ring and his power increased tenfold. He smoked us out and I sent Robin away to call for League assistance. We were holding our own but losing ground when suddenly he just disappeared."

"M'gann and I were tracking his cat," Artemis offered. "It drew us away from the main battle, but it vanished almost the same time Klarion did."

"Their plan was adequate," Red Tornado spoke up. "They contacted the League when necessary. Their only failures were losing the objective and involving your protege. Nothing went so horribly wrong that deemed it important enough to hold a group meeting. Individual assessments to discuss personal mistakes would have been sufficient for this mission."

Well, Jason was tempted to input, he had almost died. He was never gonna tell Batman that though, the old man might never let him patrol again.

The grinding of Batman's teeth was audible. RT did bring up some valid points. Why were they having a group meeting anyway? They hadn't even discussed it; the whole team had filed into the conference room and waited for Batman as if somebody had been seriously injured during their venture. "If you thought a big hitter like Klarion was going to be targeting your objective, why did you not inform the League before you left?"

"I didn't know that Klarion would be targeting the ring." Kaldur objected. "We didn't even know for sure that the ring was magical. Our source only said that somebody from the Light might be looking to steal it. Our mission was supposed to be recon only, just like always."

Doctor Fate shifted his stance from rigid attention to curious, drawing the gaze of everyone in the room. "Zatanna," He called out. The magician girl started, glancing up for a moment before looking away again. Jason didn't know the whole story, but he knew that the raven haired girl had a rough relationship with Doctor Fate. "I can sense that there is something bothering you."

Zatanna's face went stormy for a few seconds and she bit her lip. M'gann placed a calming hand on her shoulder and she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Right before Klarion vanished, he said something. It sounded like a spell, but not one that I've ever heard before. I can't stop thinking about it. I... I think he did something, but I don't know what."

"You're right. Ever since we've gotten back, I've had this weird feeling," Superboy piped up, uncrossing his arms and staring at the wall with intense focus. "Like that feeling you get whenever you walk into a room and then suddenly can't remember why you went there in the first place."

"Or when you forget a word," Jason added, glad somebody else had voiced the same doubts he was feeling.

There was a chorus of agreeing murmurs. Doctor Fate turned to M'gann. "Show me what she saw."

M'gann looked at Zatanna, asking for her approval with her eyes. Zatanna nodded, and M'gann touched her lightly on the forehead. She didn't project the image to everyone else in the room, which Jason thought was plain unfair. He hadn't been there for the final moments of the fight. A minute crawled by in silence before Doctor Fate broke it with an uncharacteristic gasp.

"I am acquainted with the last spell the lord of chaos cast," His voice was grim. "It is called the Living Ghost; it is old, powerful, and forbidden. It is why the witch boy vanished, it takes more power than one usually possesses. He will not have enough energy to materialize in our world for quite some time."

It might have been the ominous words, or the way he said it, but Jason swore that the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. He had no idea what the hell they were talking about, but he knew it wasn't good. Batman had stiffened just the tiniest bit, giving away that he too was surprised.

The blood left Zatanna's face and her lips popped open in shock. "Living Ghost?"

"What does the Living Ghost do?" Wally asked, his voice small and uncertain.

Doctor Fate did not answer right away. It was hard to tell what was going on in the Lord of Fate and Order's mind behind that golden helmet. "The spell was created by the druids of lore, thousands of years ago, as a way to punish a person for trespassing on their lands. It is meant to corrupt people by breaking their minds and turning them into monsters. It is indeed one of the cruellest things that can be done to a human being.

"The spell erases people from existence, in a way. To us, it is af if they were never born. We have lost all memories of the person, and most indicators that they have ever lived have simply disappeared. The victim of the spell is bound to this earthly plane, but they are like a ghost. We can neither see them or hear them. The conduit for this spell is the victim themselves, so there is no object we can destroy to bring them back. There are only two ways to break this spell, one we can control and one we can't. It is impossible to completely erase somebody from existence; most physical proof of their existence has vanished but there will be a remnant, something that the victim had a strong emotional bond to or something that is irrefutable evidence that they lived. If we can find that remnant, we will remember who we have forgotten and break the spell."

"We have forgotten somebody?" M'gann whispered. "All of us? There was somebody else there that Klarion made us forget? A friend?"

"That's impossible," Jason's disbelief made his tongue loose. There was just no way that they would have forgotten somebody! He would have remembered, surely. The thought settled in his stomach like bad milk.

Impassive eyes slid to Jason and he withered from the look behind the helmet. "That is the spell that Klarion cast. There is no doubt that somebody has been erased."

"It does make sense," Red Tornado had to agree.

"Even if it is a little unsettling." Conner mused, his eyes wandering around the room. Jason followed his line of sight, Batman, Flash, Red Tornado, Zatanna, Artemis, Wally, M'gann, Kaldur, Doctor Fate. Somebody was missing, but who? Who had they forgotten?

"I did call a hacker to assist," Kaldur'ahm repeated. "But it wasn't Robin or Batgirl. I do not know who."

Flash cleared his throat. "You said that there is another way to break the spell, something that we couldn't do."

Doctor Fate nodded. "It is something that only the victim of the spell can do. They are still here, though they are little more than an apparition. The Living Ghost tortures a person's mind, until they are willing to do absolutely anything to free themselves of the spell. Imagine watching your loved ones continuing on with their daily lives, completely unaware of your existence. Imagine being forgotten, being the only one who knows that you have ever lived. This spell, after it was stolen from the druids, was used by only the most corrupt and evil servants of chaos. They targeted good men and women, those who seemed pure and incorruptible. The only other way to break the spell is for the victim to spill the blood on an innocent.

"It is either kill or vanish for an eternity."

From the doorway of the conference room where he had been silently watching the whole time, Dick moaned. One moment he had been petrified underneath Klarion's weight, the next he was roaming around the mountain. He had found the gathering soon enough, and spent ten horrific minutes doing anything he could to grab their attentions. He had been screaming when Batman whisked into the room and walked right through him. It was the absence of feeling that was the strangest. He moved, he walked and ran, but he still felt like he was floating. A strong wind was probably enough to blast him to the moon.

He had spent most of their meeting walking through people and pulling faces at Wally and his gross displays of public affection. Until Doctor Fate had delivered the worst possible news Dick could have imagined. And trust him, his mind had been reeling through all possible scenarios.

"So I'm a ghost now, huh?" He asked the mute room. Everyone had blank and slightly sick expressions on their faces as they took in the information. "At least I'm not dead. But seriously, bedside manners much? You could have delivered that with just a li'l more tact. I'm right here you know."

There was no fucking way he was ever going to kill somebody.

"So the only option is to find the remnant." Batman ground out.

Dick snorted. "Good luck with that, Bruce. You and I haven't had much emotional connection in the last year. Whatever you're looking for is probably here in the cave, or Wally's." Maybe. What was something that he had strong emotional ties to? Or something that proved he existed? A birth certificate maybe? Dick had no idea what happened to the physical copy of his birth certificate; it disappeared some time during the move from a circus trailer to Bruce's mansion.

Anything of real value to him had been taken out of his room in the manor and been his traveling buddy as he hopped around avoiding Bruce. His bags had been packed and he had been gone in what felt like minutes after he had been fired as Robin. First Dick spent a couple of weeks at Wally's apartment. Living with his two best friends, who were also dating, turned out to be more awkward than he had expected going in. (There were certain things he wished he could bleach from his memory.) Then he had gone to Metropolis and crashed at Clark's place. That's where he had gotten it into his mind to start solo and picked the name Nightwing for himself.

A few more weeks after that and a couple of nights of staring at the night sky towards Gotham, his heart heavy with sorrow, Dick decided to be the bigger person. Bruce's anger had surely blown over by now and he really missed his home, his surrogate grandfather, and the man he had considered to be his father for many years. He caught a cab back to Gotham and returned to the manor with an apology on his lips.

Until the door had been answered by a scowling, raven haired boy.

"Just who have we forgotten?" Barry asked. "Was it one of the League? One of our kids? A civie?"

"My data reads that every hero is accounted for." Red Tornado offered. "Though I suppose that is to be expected."

"That is not all," Doctor Fate spoke once again.

"Really? Of course there is more to this thing," Wally grumbled.

Dick had to agree with him. "As if this could get any worse." Oh darn it, he should have held his tongue. There were some things that should not be spoken aloud. Here he was, standing in the midst of his friends and not a single soul could hear or see him. Or, you know, even remember who he was.

"A soul cannot exist in the plane without something tying it down for very long. If we do not remember who we have lost and they fail to kill to regain their freedom," He paused and suddenly Dick did not want him to finish that sentence. "They will cease to exist. We have about three weeks before they are lost forever."

Three...

Three weeks.

Three weeks of shadowing his friends and family, begging to unhearing ears for them to remember him. For anyone to remember him.

"Wow, okay," Artemis pulled her arm away from Wally's massaging fingers. "So how do we find this remnant? Is there some sort of spell or. . .?"

Doctor Fate shook his head and Dick rolled his eyes. Of course, that would be too fucking easy. Was it too much to ask for the universe to give him a break? Just a small one? Just a little stroke of luck? "The remnant technically does not exist until it is seen. It hovers on the brink of existence and no magic may find it."

"Who is the most likely person to have lost somebody?" Kaldur asked. "So we know where to narrow down our search?"

M'gann cleared her throat. "I, I think Batman, probably."

The Dark Knight did not move, or give any indication of his hostility, but the martian still squirmed uncomfortably.

Dick raised his head and took a deep breath in. "M'gann you're a beautiful person and I love you." He breathed out in relief.

"Think about it," She continued. "It doesn't make sense for Kaldur to bring Robin on this mission. We know that you haven't cleared him yet for unmonitored missions, and he isn't ready to start hacking yet," She ignored Jason's frustrated growl and looked directly at Batman. "What if there was another person who worked with you and Robin and they were the one Kaldur called? What if they were the one who brought Robin along?"

Praise the good lord Jesus, Dick wanted to walk over to her and give her a hug.

"No," The word was spoken firmly, without a shadow of a doubt. Batman stared down the room, as the gathered heroes nodded along to Miss Martian's logic. Dick felt something inside him break at Bruce's unwavering certainty. "Robin is my only partner."

And his only son.

Dick knew it was true, but it still hurt to hear.

(A/N) - Here I am again with another angsty story! I know it's not one of the ones I promised lol, but it should be good! I've had this idea for months now and I'm excited to finally put it all together. I'm aiming for about 10 chapters, with one chap posted a week, but we'll have to see how that goes. I have a writing schedule all planned out, but sorry folks my school schedule takes priority over fanfiction :p

This fic was inspired by season 6 of Teen Wolf (I only really watch that show for dylan o'brien's hair, but whatev), and the song Doubt by Twenty-One Pilots.