"Can we talk?"

"What's there to talk about?" Dick asks. He doesn't look up when Wally settles next to him. He just keeps staring at his fingers, keeps fidgeting. It's easier to stay where he is if he doesn't have to really acknowledge anybody else.

They're up on a rooftop. A high one. Blüdhaven is spread out down below them, and it's a clear night for once. There isn't too much pollution tonight, and Dick's glad. The heights and the cold, clean air help just that little bit.

Wally sighs, like he was expecting Dick to shut him out. That hurts Dick too much to really think about, though, so he pushes it away, towards everything else that's hurting. The pile, the things that he hasn't dealt with yet and probably won't anytime soon, it's getting larger. Dick never thought he was one for denial, not like Bruce, but here he is.

"Dick," Wally says, and Dick hunches in on himself in order to stop the hurt from rising. "Dick, please. Just talk to me."

"I don't have anything to say."

"Bullshit," Wally snaps, and Dick finally lets himself look over at his best friend. He stares into those green eyes, so understanding, and Dick's glad that there isn't a single drop of pity. Wally looks angry. For Dick. "Dick, you can't tell me you're okay with any of this."

"And what can I do about it?" Dick asks, his voice hoarse with emotion he doesn't want to feel. "He's made his decision. Anything I say or do will make me look like I'm a child throwing a tantrum."

"Did you tell him?"

"Of course I told him!" Dick yells, eyes burning. "Of course I told him, Wally! He's known since I first became Robin. He's knows what it means to me, and he still just—just gave it away. He's treating it like—"

Dick can't finish, though. He shuts his mouth, teeth gritted, eyes back on his fidgeting fingers. He feels like going ten rounds with Superman right now, and he needs to get himself under control. He's already hurt, physically and emotionally, and if he doesn't restrain himself, Dick's going to end up doing something he regrets.

"Like what?" Wally asks, his voice soft. Dick doesn't answer, though, and Wally leans forward to look at Dick's masked face. "Dick. Like what?"

"Like it's his," Dick finishes, shoulders slumping. "He's treating it like it's expendable. Like I'm expendable. It's my name, Wally."

"I know," Wally tells him, and he leans into Dick's side. "I know it is."

Dick sags against him and not for the first time, he just wishes he could fly. He wants to be in front of an audience, waving through the lights and to the cheers, under his mom and dad's watchful, but proud gaze. Of course, he loves Bruce. He's so grateful to Bruce for taking him in. Bruce raised him. He'll never stop loving Bruce, but he can't understand what Bruce is thinking anymore, what possessed him to give away something that isn't even his, and Dick has never wanted more to be back at the circus.

Dick is sixteen, and he's Nightwing now, but he never thought he'd stop being Robin. He'd thought it would be his name forever and ever. The name his mother gave him. There's so much importance tied to that name, and for Bruce to just forget that. To just ignore that. It makes Dick want to jump off a building and scream.

"Sometimes I talk to him, and it's like I'm talking to a wall," Dick admits. "I don't know what happened. I used to be good at understanding him, but now it's like he's pushing me away. He barely even looks at me."

"Dick," Wally says, and he sounds uneasy. Dick shoots Wally a questioning look, and Wally bites his lip. "Dick, you were nine when you started. It's been seven years since then, and you've grown up. You're not the same person you were back then."

"Do you think that's why he gave it away?" Dick asks. "Because he thinks I'm not good enough to be Robin anymore?"

Wally hesitates a moment, but he finally sighs, "I don't know, Dick. I don't know him like you do, so I can't tell you that."

"I don't know, either," Dick admits.

And he doesn't. He knows Bruce almost as well as he knows himself. He can read the minute expressions in the face that Bruce keeps carefully blank under the cowl. He can hear the waver in his voice when all others hear is Batman's growl. He can understand the aborted movements Bruce makes when he wants to cradle Dick in his arms, but doesn't have the nerve. He knows Bruce.

And yet, he doesn't know why Bruce gave Robin away, and it kills him.

"So what are you going to do?" Wally asks quietly.

"Nothing," Dick breathes. "I'm not going to do anything."

"Dick—"

"No." Dick pushes himself to his feet, and Wally reluctantly follows. "I meant what I said before. Bruce has already given Robin to Jason, and if I try to take it back, I'm going to end up the asshole."

Wally winces. "That's not—"

"Wally." His best friend's mouth snaps shut, and Dick sighs. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean—you're the only one who's even—sorry."

Shaking his head, Wally just lays a gentle hand on Dick's shoulder. "Do me a favor? Don't go back to Bruce's. At least not for tonight."

Dick pushes back the tears. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

"You can stay at my place."

"Wally—"

"I've got your back, Dick," Wally says, his eyes practically glowing in the dark night. A breeze whips past, ruffling their hair, and Dick thinks that in this moment, he's really lucky to have Wally as his friend. "We'll figure this out."

Dick doesn't say anything to that. He can't. He wants to believe Wally, but everything that's been building to this, it's all too much. Jason's Robin and Dick can't go home.

Nothing is ever going to be the same again.