Author's Note: Hey everyone! Just some quick info for you before you being reading. First, this story will be updated once a week because the chapters take a while to write. Secondly, this isn't quite the Richard Grayson from the comics. He's a little darker and has been put through a little more than that particular boy. Finally, if you're coming here from Duplicity then I just want to let you know I'll be doing some drabbles post-Duplicity and I'll let you know on this when they're posted. I own nothing, but enjoy anyway.

My name is Richard Grayson. When I was ten my parents fell to their deaths and I was taken in by the Court. They taught me to kill by destroying everything that made me human. Batman saved me and, in order to repay him, I swore an oath to uphold justice. But every bird eventually has to leave the nest. Now is my time to step out from underneath Batman's wings and learn to fly.

Bludhaven, New Jersey. October 24, 3:45 AM

A dark shadow flowed like liquid across the chilly night sky of one of the nastiest cities in the country. All manner of low life scum made their livelihood in its back alleys and crack houses, that shipped drugs and weapons in through the ports and trafficked human lives to other states a nations. The police force was just as corrupt as most the locals, creating an atmosphere of terror for the few citizens who wanted nothing more than to escape the poverty and danger surrounding them. Hope was as elusive as water slipping between a child's fingertips. This city was a place where people died young or turned to drugs to erase the horrors they had witnessed. It was a place in need of a savior.

The shadow slithered across rooftops, though the subterfuge was hardly necessary. People in Bludhaven weren't accustomed to searching the skies for attackers. Or protectors. The figure hesitated on the edge of a rooftop, leaning over to peer at the figure rushing through the alley below. This city wasn't one where people called for help. That only brought more trouble, whether in the form of corrupt cops or human traffickers. The running figure was a young woman with long blonde hair that hung in wild tangles around her face. She looked to be around eleven or twelve years old and was just skin and bone, but pretty enough to attract the wrong type of attention. Behind the girl, following at a leisurely pace were two men. They had no obvious weapons but they were walking through Bludhaven at night without looking over their shoulder. One could logically assume that they were armed.

The young girl reached the dead end at the far end of the alley and let out a little heartbreaking cry of dismay. She whirled around then to face the men who approached her. "What's wrong sweetheart?" one of the men asked, leering at her. "We just want to take you home."

"Stay away from me," the girl snapped back, hands clenching into trembling fists and her brown eyes gleamed with fury.

"Don't be like that sugar," the second man purred drunkenly, reaching out a hand towards her. The blonde girl backed up closer to the wall behind her as the men laughed. That was when a shadow dropped out of the sky in front of them, landing in a catlike crouch in front of them.

"I'm sorry gentlemen," a smooth voice practically purred as the figure stood, a smug smile crossing his face. "Am I interrupting something?"

The men stuttered in shock, mouths gaping open. "W-who're you?" one of them managed to get out, face pale.

"Your worst nightmare," the figure replied blithely. "But you can call me Nightwing." Then he lashed out with the speed of a striking snake. The first blow sent the man who had been leering at the girl flying back to crash hard against the cracked concrete. The second one didn't manage to block a punch to the jaw that would leave bruises later but when he saw the flash of clawed gloves on his hands he didn't protest. Instead he only let out out a terrified cry as the lithe figure below him lifted him off the ground by his throat. "Now listen to me very carefully," Nightwing said, grinning the entire time. "You and your friend here are going to walk away or you'll be hanging upside down at the docks come sunrise. Have I made myself clear?"

The man gargled an agreement and Nightwing dropped him to the ground, allowing him to grab his friend and scramble away. Behind the black clothed figure, the blonde girl stared in awe. He turned towards her, his wide grin softening into something more genuine. "Are you okay Miss?"

"I'm fine," she said, brown eyes wide with awe. "And it's Brown. Stephanie Brown." Then some fierce lit her eyes and she added, "I could'a handled it."

"I'm sure you could have," Nightwing agreed easily. "But you shouldn't have to." He hesitated a moment and then asked, "Will you be fine walking home?"

"I'm from Gotham," Stephanie Brown replied with a snort and a toss of her tangled hair. "Of course I will be." Nightwing nodded once, smile still in place, and then launched himself upwards to fade into the shadows. The blonde girl stared in the direction he had gone for a moment, trying to pick out the cobalt bird that had been on the front of his costume when he'd turned to face her but saw nothing but darkness and the thick clouds that rolled overhead. After a moment she shook her head and walked off the direction she had come, not knowing that by morning she would be a part of Bludhaven's latest rumor.

Episode One: First Flight

Gotham City, New Jersey. Eight Years Previously

"Hide me, hide me!" a little dark haired boy squealed as he scrambled around his mother and clung to one of her legs. Mary Grayson laughed lightly and ruffled his hair as a boy about four years older scrambled into view, a scowl on his face.

"What have you done now my little Robin?" Mary asked her son who grinned innocently up at her.

"Nothin'," he replied, giggling when his cousin snorted at him.

"Yeah right. He told Raya that I have a crush on her." John's cheeks flushed pink and Mary smiled knowingly at him.

"Do you really?"

"That isn't the point Aunt Mary," John complained, folding his arms over his chest. "He told secrets that weren't his to tell."

"I'll talk to him sweetie," Mary told him, petting a hand through her son's hair as the boy stuck his tongue out at his older cousin. "But if you do like Raya then you should tell her before someone else braver does express their feelings." Her smile widened and she added, "That's how your uncle caught me." John wrinkled his nose at that, cheeks still flushed with embarrassment, and shot his younger cousin one more irritated glance before hurrying off. Mary watched him go with a fond smile on her face before turning her gaze down to her mischievous ten year old son. "You really shouldn't tell other people's secrets Dickie," she told the boy who pouted at her.

"But he never would'a told her otherwise," the boy whined, staring up at her with big blue eyes.

"I know you were trying to help but that doesn't really matter," Mary replied. "The only time you should tell anyone a secret someone told you is if it puts their being in danger. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mami," he told her, looking down guiltily at his feet.

Mary ruffled his hair again and he glanced up with a hopeful smile. Her little bird really wasn't a bad person. He was just still learning proper behavior. "That's a good boy. Now why don't you go help your father get things ready for our show tonight?" Dick grinned up at her and then scampered away through the mess of tents and people spread across the current circus grounds.

Bludhaven, New Jersey. October 24, 6:15 AM

Eighteen year old Richard Grayson slid serpentine through the cracked window of his tiny apartment and yawned so widely he thought his jaw might crack. The light on his answering machine was blinking, telling him that he had eight new messages. The young man slipped off his clawed gloves, reminders of his time as a Talon in the Court of Owls, and tossed them aside before hitting the button to play the first message. "Dick-" Bruce Wayne's voice began to say and he instantly hit the delete button, not in the mood to hear whatever excuse his old mentor might have come up with to bring him home. The next three messages were deleted in the same manner, all Bruce trying to bring him back into the fold.

The pair of them had gotten into a horrific argument when Dick had returned from a mission in New York as Nightwing only to find that Bruce had replaced him. The man had given away his mother's nickname for him as if it were nothing more than a pair of clothes the eighteen year old had outgrown. The man didn't seem to understand that what he had done was horrible and, to make matters worse, the new Robin was nothing more than a disrespectful street kid that thought Dick was being a selfish, self-centered brat. In response to those events, Dick had packed his bags and left for Bludhaven a week ago, unable to spend a minute longer in his former mentor's presence.

The fifth message on the answering machine was a girl from work asking if they could trade shifts on Saturday so she could go out with her boyfriend. Ashley was a sweet girl and not one to normally shirk her duty. Dick did some calculating in his sleepy mind and then made a quick note on the pad of paper to call her back when he was more coherent. Patrolling Bludhaven for the first time had been exhausting. The sixth one was Bruce again, and quickly deleted, the seventh was spam, and the eight one was Barbara.

Dick froze in the process of stripping off his uniform at the sound of his old crush's voice. Barbara Gordon was the police commissioner's daughter and Batgirl. She had patrolled the streets of Gotham for several years when Dick was Robin and had helped him create Nightwing when he began to contemplate striking out on his own. The red head might not understand what drove Dick out from underneath the safety net of Batman's wide shadow but she would at least listen. "Hey Dick," her voice said. "Alfred gave me your new phone number so I could talk to you. I hope it's okay. Call me after you get some sleep." The answering machine fell silent and Dick scribbled a note to call Barbara before going into work and slid out of the rest of his uniform, stumbling to his mattress, he hadn't dug his sheets out yet, and collapsing. Moments later he had drifted off to a restless sleep.

Gotham City, New Jersey. Eight Years Previously

Spotlights soared upwards to reveal the figures standing high above the people seated in the big top. Dick Grayson waved his hand cheerfully and beamed down at the excited audience, his mother's hand resting on his shoulder. His father ruffled his hair before launching himself off the platform. Moments later Dick and his mother were joining John Grayson, flying through the air. The boy loved this. He had grown up watching his parents and learning to fly with them, waiting anxiously for the day when he would be allowed to preform in front of a crowd. Uncle Richard and Aunt Laura joined them along with the boy's cousin and for a while all six of them were soaring through the sky.

For a time, everything was perfect. Then the finale arrived. This was something they had been practicing for months, the adults changing up the routine so John and Dick could join in. The two boys stood on opposite platforms, waiting for their cues. John jumped out into open air first, his hands just connecting with Aunt Laura's when the ropes let out an ominous sounding groan. Dick watched in horror as the ropes snapped and his family plummeted towards the ground below, no safety net to stop their fall. People began screaming but the boy could only stare in mute horror as his relations crumpled to the ground like broken dolls. Tears dripped down his cheeks and he found himself shaking as he could only stare down towards the crumpled form of what had once been his loving family.

Bludhaven, New Jersey. October 24, 7:12 PM

Distantly Dick became aware of an alarm beeping at him, insisting it was time to wake up. The young man groaned and forced open blue eyes, pushing himself up off the mattress and blindly smacking the alarm clock until it silenced. Then he stumbled towards the shower shoved in a tiny bathroom and turned on the hot water, undressing and sliding underneath the spray. Ten minutes later and more awake than before, he stepped fully dressed into the main room of his apartment, grabbing the cordless phone as he headed for the kitchen area. He could have fished out his cell and turned it on but he was sure Bruce had a tracking device in the piece of machinery. The last thing he wanted was for his old mentor to show up on his doorstep.

He dialed Barbara Gordon's number from memory and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he measured out coffee grounds into a filter and then filled the pot with water. The machine gurgled and the red head picked up one ring away from her voicemail, saying "Barbara Gordon speaking."

"Hey Babs," Dick chirped cheerfully, switching the phone to his other ear and opening a cupboard to fish out a coffee mug.

"Dick," the twenty year old replied, voice brightening. "I wasn't sure you'd call me back."

"It's not you I'm upset with," the young man informed her, placing the coffee mug next to the coffee maker and then searching through the other cupboard for a box of cereal, opening it and pulling out a handful of the sugary contents.

"I heard what he did," Babs told him, voice business like. "And while I agree he shouldn't have given away Robin without your permission I don't really think it warranted the screaming matching that resulted."

Dick hurried to swallow, scowling a little. "He won't even apologize Babs. He wants to just keep going like what he's done isn't a huge betrayal."

"Bruce is terrible when it comes to emotions," Barbara said dryly. "You and I both know that."

"It wouldn't kill him to apologize every once in a while." Dick tucked the phone between shoulder and ear again, carefully pouring himself a steaming cup of black coffee and replacing the pot underneath the coffee maker.

"It might," the red head teased and Dick couldn't help but snort. "Seriously Dickie, the pair of you make such a great team. It would be horrible if you let this break up your relationship. And Jason needs someone with more emotions than a statue to help him get through this."

"We'll work it out eventually," Dick replied, leaning against the cheap linoleum counter. "I just need some space or any conversation we have is just going to devolve into another screaming match."

"Okay," Barbara said. "But promise you'll call me at least once a week so I can at least pass on to Alfred that you're still alive."

"I promise."

"And that you'll call if you need help during the nights."

"I promise," Dick repeated, a grin taking over his mouth. "I'm not Bruce, Babs. I actually acknowledge that I have friends."

"I'm holding you to that," Babs said with a light laugh. "Now get off the phone bird boy! I have work to do." Dick laughed and hung up, placing the phone on the counter and scooping up his coffee cup. He cradled it gently between his hands and blew on the fragrant steam rising from the top of the brew before taking a cautious sip. He winced as it burned his tongue and placed the cup down with a disappointed frown, picking up the phone again. He headed for the coffee table, ignoring the once again blinking answering machine, to snatch up the piece of paper that had Ashley's number on it.

The phone rang twice before the nineteen year old answered with a distracted, "Yes?"

"Ashley Turner?" Dick asked cheerfully, heading back to the kitchen area so he could fish out another handful of cereal.

"Yeah, who is this?" Ashley asked cautiously.

"This is Dick Grayson. You called me about switching shifts."

"Oh yeah!" Ashley's voice brightened instantly. "Can you?"

"Yeah," Dick agreed easily. "I was supposed to work from noon to four. Does that work for you?"

"Yes," Ashley cheered excitedly. "Thank you so much!"

"No problem," Dick replied and then clicked the end call button, tossing the phone on the ancient couch and shoving the handful of cereal in his mouth. He munched on the sugary breakfast food and peered out the window, waiting for his coffee to cool down enough that he could drink it. Full darkness wouldn't cover Bludhaven for another couple hours so he still had some time to relax.

Gotham City, New Jersey. Eight Years Previously

The boy trembled as someone joined him on the platform, a broad form gently picking him up and carry him back down. The man cradled his head against a strong shoulder to keep him from seeing the bodies up close with the crowd panicked around them and the wail of police sirens approached them. "It's okay," the man murmured into his head as Dick sobbed helplessly, stomach rolling uncomfortably. The images of his family falling were seared into his brain, like some kind of nightmare.

"Dick, a familiar voice called. "Oh my god!" Dick turned and the man released him so he could throw himself into Raya's arms. "I'm so sorry," she murmured against his hair, clinging tightly to him. "So, so sorry." Dick sobbed harder as she rocked him back and forth, the rest of the circus kids gathering around them, forming a blockade to keep outsiders away from the distraught youngest child.

Bludhaven, New Jersey. October 24, 11:10 PM

"Is this everything?" Antonio De La Vega glared at the weedy looking woman before him. She snorted at him, flipping her dyed orange hair over her shoulder and folding her arms underneath small breasts.

"It's all here," she said, flicking her head towards the crates men were unloading behind her. "Passed through customs and everything. Now hand over the cash." Antonio muttered under his breath but beckoned one of his guards forward. The bulky man handed over a briefcase to the orange haired woman who flipped it open and carefully inspected the money inside before snapping it shut again. "Pleasure doing business with you," she drawled before turning to the men unloading. "Make sure everything's off. I want to be out of here long before sunrise."

"Oh I don't think that'll be happening," a voice purred. A shadowy figure with a blue bird spreading its wings across his chest landed smoothly to their left, a wide smirk on his face. "I think you'll be hanging around here for a while."