confusing but hang in there, it gets better there is more to come, it's a very Nightwing whump fix, so if that's your cup of tea prepare for seconds ;)

This will be a multichapter fix so expect updates! Reviews are wonderful hint, hint.

Richard Grayson POV:

That crunch of dry, crisp straw under my worn tennis shoes, reminded me of when I was 9 running through this place, these old tents, ducking under draw ropes which pulled taut against the canvas pavilions, once colored brightly, oranges, reds, blues faded in the sun, and leaping over crates of oddities and supplies. I remembered that raw smell of hay, animals and sweat and on performance nights that smell of excitement, popcorn…and sweat and animals. Always sweat and animals.

I sniffed. It wasn't like its glory days, the smells were almost entirely gone, now I only smelled October air, hay…an occasional animal…and pesticides. It wasn't like the old days where people came to be amazed, they'd sit on crates or even the ground to catch a glimpse of the wonders inside these tents…now it was metal bleachers with seat cushions and health inspectors…the raw thrill of being one with the entertainment and sheer awe of it all had been reduced to high class parents whose children had never sat on the ground of had a fried corn dog in their sorry, young lives.

Children simply weren't allowed to be children anymore. That's one reason this place is going as badly as it is.

As I walked I closed my eyes and listened to the straw crackle like flames under my feet, slowly the sounds and smells I once knew and loved came back.

"Hey! Is that little Dicky boy?" My eyes snapped open and before I could draw a breath a stone hug crushed me, my arms immediately numbed at my sides. It was Gusto, the strong man, my dry, desperate wheezes were enough plea for his to release me. I took a deep breath rubbing my hands down my sides. I turned to him, he was shirtless, sweating, his bald head gleaming madly in the sun, his long handle bar mustache twitched in humor as I wheezed.

"Not so little anymore" I said with a brief smile. He too, smiled.

"So I can see, tell me, how old are you now, Dicky boy?" I brushed some straw off of my knee, I had no idea how it had got there.

"24" he laughed heartily and slapped his abs, I winced at the sharp, resounding crack of skin on skin. It seemed to echo through the circus. My eyes fell on a 'Welcome to Haley's Circus, may you come a citizen and leave a hero' sign.

"Well, I'm sure you're looking for the old man-" he got interrupted by a chorus of cheers and the sounds of a tent flap being shuffled through many hands. Faces familiar to me came up to greet me, all warm. All family.

In a good hour I was where I intended when I arrived, Haley's office. He was old. Older than I ever care or cared to remember, he was smoking a cigar in his trailer, A Song For Angels by Crimson Glory blasting over a rattling fan in the corner. His desk was stacked with messy papers and envelopes.

I couldn't help but see a large 'Flying Graysons' behind his desk. I tried not to look but of course failed.

I could hear the slap of my mother's hands together as she chalked them before a practice, the cloud of dust that arose from her fingers like cigarette smoke in a shadow, the smell of pure dryness that made your head hurt and your nose tickle at the same time. The zip of my dad's spandex, the snap of the ropes which held acrobat, trapeze and the audiences gaze a dizzying height off the floor. How different the snap sounds when it decides that it's had enough.

"Dick! My son! It's good to see you" I look at Haley somewhat confused as my trance from the poster is broken. His eyes are kind, wrinkled…but kind. The same eyes that smiled at me when I was a boy.

"it's good to see you too, Jack" he leads me to a chair, I'm afraid that if I sit in it, it will collapse to the floor, I sit anyways and clasp my hands on my lap, before fixing my hoodie nervously and smoothing my jeans.

"How's your friend? The weird, ginger one?" I chuckle

"You must mean Wally"

"Last I heard, he'd been struck by lightning" that was 5 years ago. I feel the creases in the wood of the chair I sit in, it's the same one I used to sit in when getting reprimanded for feeding the lions my broccoli, I refused to eat them when my mother tried to feed it to me.

"Wally's fine now. We found a sorcerer who could fix him up"

"I never believed in all that voodoo healing magic crap…but it's done wonders for Lucy" The circus bear. I nod somewhat amused. "Well, I don't mean to cut straight to the point, but last time I saw you was when you were 13, that's 11 years ago, Dick…why now?"

"I heard this is Haley Circus' last show…ever." For some reason I felt tears well in my eyes and catch in my lashes. Haley sits heavily in a chair near me and I feared it would fall apart right there.

"It is" I heard the rope snap again in my head. The splat of two bodies hitting solid ground, the horrified screams, my desperate wails. "Kid?" I jumped

"Yeah." Recently I had been getting into this 'be one with the earth' meditation, yoga, tea….crap. I've been trying to fix this problem I've got. For some reason I can't go to bed without seeing my parents die, over and over and over. Like someone put 'repeat' on a remote and lost it between the couch cushions. I though it was from stress, so I took up the mediation, earthy ways for a while. But to no avail. My parent's continued to die.

Then when I heard about Hailey closing down, I thought there would be some connection. I don't know why I thought so.

"Kid, you all right?" I looked at him with a small smile and stood, careful not to break the chair.

"I'm good…I just-I should go" Haley's eyes wander my face then he stands and pulls me into a hug, it's gentle and concerned.

"I know it's hard, Dicky…but this place will live on forever in our hearts…just like your parents have" the tear spills over my cheek. And I pull away. I take one last deep breath of the circus and leave. I didn't know it then…I would never see Hailey again.

I find myself wandering around, this room. I really don't know how I got there, there's windows just too high to see out of, and a door just too rusty to open. I don't feel scared, the room is bright, I hear a slap and look over. There's no one there only a cloud of chalk easing into the air, this time I hear a second slap and see my father punch my mother. Right in the face. His fist is closed. I'm scared now. What is this?

She is falling, my father strangling her with a broken trapeze cord, as she falls off the platform high in the room's ceiling, the cord tightens, a noose, and my mother hangs, bare feet twitching. My father is staring at me, when I look down I see that I am holding the other end of the cord which is killing my mother I am anchoring it down so that my mother hangs. I scream and try to let go but I can't. My father speaks

"Couldn't have done it without you, son" and then he walks away. I am stuck screaming desperately unable to let my mother go.

It's Tigress who wakes me up, I had fallen asleep in my room in the restored Mount. Justice. I awoke to find myself curled in her lap, screaming and sobbing, she was making gentle cooing noises and rocking me back and forth. I didn't protest, even fully awake I sobbed. The stress of continuous nightmares weighing me down. I was tired.

Tigress looked terrified, she was speaking muffled into my hair, I had on no mask but that was the least of my worries. I realized I was half naked, my baggy sweatpants hanging dangerously low on my hips, but really I didn't care about that either.

I hear my door slide with a whoosh, like air being let out of a balloon and I feel stares. When I look up through a veil of tears and hair I realize I woke the entire original team. That's really only who stayed at mount justice anymore after the Invasion.

I pushed myself up out of my bed and wiped at my tears, shoving my way through the door and all the bodies there, my screams woken them fully and ignored their weak concerned protests as I stumbled down the hall to the 'living room' I threw myself on the couch and turned on the TV. Anything to forget. I sniffled.

"You all right?" it was Conner, he sat next to me awkwardly watching the TV, I didn't even realize I had put on some 3 AM cooking show. I closed my eyes and leaned back, my lids screaming and itching from tears.

"I will be" I could tell they wanted to say more but didn't know what to say, truthfully neither did I.

"Do you want to talk about it?" that was Megan, she sounded a bit like my mother. I saw her feet twitching and I jumped, immediately pushing my hands away from me and looking up. There was nothing there. I realized they were staring at me. And I changed the channel.

"Talk about what?" I knew what.

"Dude, you woke up screaming and sobbing" It was the news I had switched to, there was a scrolling red alert at the bottom I engrossed myself in reading it.

'Trapeze artist mother of one, found hung in warehouse.' I blinked and read it again sliding off the couch to my knees and crawling closer to the TV. I reached out and touched the scrolling red letters, resting my forehead on the screen. I read it again and realized it had changed to a thunderstorm warning. A sudden thought crossed my mind and I stiffened.

"Richard, you're scaring me" it was Zatanna, I forgot they were still there. I stood and yawned turning to face them, I felt my fingers twitch.

"I don't remember waking up…am I awake? Or is this a dream still?" is my mind playing tricks on me? I see my team swap looks. I briefly see my mother again standing in the corner behind them, I rush over to her and grab at her only to find my fingers on wall. I feel a hand on my shoulder, it's Aqualad.

He turns me to face him.

"Richard, why don't you sit down" I look down

"Where are my clothes?" Wally hands me a sweater and I put it on, hiding my bare skin. Aqualad leads me back to the couch, I hear them mutter to each other for a second. It has to be a dream right? Whenever I wake up, I never continue to see my mother. I see a knife on the counter and I get up and grab it. Someone gasps

"Nightwing…what are you doing?" Tigress slowly approaches, why are they scared of me?

"There's a myth that you can't die in a dream…" I aim the blade at myself, it flickers like a flame in the TV screen. A horrified collection of gasps fill the room.

"Don't you dare" that was Wally. I'm confused. Even more so when so a moment I swore I saw Simon's face. I blink

"Megan" I whisper, she blanches. "Simon says…" and then…

I stab myself. Like an idiot. I bleed for a moment, and then wake up.

This time it's Hailey who wakes me. Crimson Glory, and cigar smoke greet me when I open my eyes. I had fallen asleep in his trailer….I didn't know it then…but that was the last time I ever saw him.

I arrived at the Mountain early, I knew the other's would be training already, I hadn't slept since the dream at Hailey's yesterday. It was the most life like one I had ever had. And I had seen Simon's face...the Zeta transport announced me obnoxiously an echo in the HQ. It was a dream...right? The smell of sweat pulsed in my sinuses as I entered the large training room, it reminded me of the circus. I saw my old team working, sweat spilling and rolling off their bodies as they sparred.

Zatanna waves at me briefly and I stiffly manage to wave back, my chest aching.

"Hey, was I here yesterday?" I shout to them, the sparring stops and they look at me confused.

"No, I was here all day I never saw you come in" Megan said her sweet voice carrying across the room to where I as standing. I blinked

"Not at all? Like..." I sighed "Did I have a nightmare here yesterday?" I could have heard a pin drop, outside. I bit my lip.

"No...you slept at Barbra's." No I didn't. I scrubbed my face with my hands. What the hell is going on here? "Why, what's wrong?" when I looked up they were standing right in front of me and I jumped. I looked at Megan

"Can I use your help with something? I need to figure out...what the hell is going on with me" I chuckled. They didn't. I rubbed my chest again, this time slipping my hand under the baggy sweatshirt I wore to touch my skin, it was sticky. I pulled out my hand. It was blood, I looked down at my chest, when the other's gasped.

"Wings, are you hurt?" I slowly lifted the sweatshirt up. There was a stab wound, freshly stitched.

"Nightwing...who did that to you?" I ran the soft fabric of the sweatshirt through my fingers and looked up at them, not hiding the confusion in my face.

"I think I did"

watch?v=6ZNn0O31Fz0

That's the song mentioned in Hailey's trailer if you're at all curious.

Review please!

-EACT