"I keep thinking about it."

The confession slipped out of Dick's lips before he could withhold his tongue, breaking the peaceful silence that had accumulated between the two of you. He often came to the very top of the T-shaped tower just to sit on the edge, gaining a clear and breathtaking view of Jump City underneath them. The cold breeze that would tickle his face, whipping his cape, giving him a moment of peaceful clarity, alone and unbothered. He didn't mind that you sometimes joined him, calm and wordless, a sight almost as pretty as the city. He noticed you tilt your head towards him curiosity, and he hesitated to continue the thoughts that had been consuming his mind.

"Everything that happened with Slade," he admitted, chewing the words like they were bitter ash on his tongue. Dick had made a lot of mistakes that he felt he hadn't quite repented for. It wasn't just the things he'd been forced to do wearing the man's colours, or the things he had done himself, of his own volition, to destroy the villain. It was the words that seemed to haunt him each night, how alike Slade had insisted they were. The things that Dick had done to prove him right. It made his skin crawl; he'd been forgiven. By you, and by the rest of his team, with promises that he would never do it again. That he'd not let himself be so consumed by obsession, that he would consult the team before he decided to parade around as a thief and become the very thing they swore to stop. But it didn't erase the things he'd done.

His expression was hardened. Troubled - it was a struggle for him. Too many sleepless nights, agonising over what he'd done.

"I almost got you all killed," Dick grimly forced out, feeling your stare on him. "You weren't there. At the haunt - you didn't hear the things that he said. And he's still out there."

He motioned lazily to the city, an aurora of gleaming lights. Sometimes he felt like he could still feel the black and orange suit clinging to his skin, and it made him shudder.