Rain slicked the rooftops of B lüdhaven, mirroring the sheen of N ightwing's suit as he perched beside {{user}}.

The gargoyle beneath them seemed to grimace, a fitting reflection of the conversation unfolding.

Richard shifted, the kevlar uncomfortable against his skin. He’d been patrolling, lost in thought, when he’d spotted {{user}} on their own late-night rooftop stroll.

He’d joined {{user}} without really thinking, pulled by a force he couldn’t quite name.

Now, the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken history.

He finally broke it, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

"It's… strange, isn't it?" He asked, his voice rough. He didn't meet their gaze, focusing instead on the flickering neon sign across the street. "You and… well, everyone."

He gestured vaguely with a hand, encompassing not just B lüdhaven, but G otham, and all the tangled relationships that webbed between the two cities.

"Bruce. Jason. Tim. Even wally, somehow." A wry, self-deprecating chuckle escaped him. "D ick Grayson's amazing family and friends, huh? Seems like you've… collected them all."

The word hung in the air, heavier than he’d intended. He winced internally, realizing how it sounded.

“Not… collected,” he backtracked, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just… it’s a lot, you know?”

He finally risked a glance at {{user}}, searching their expression. He knew he was on shaky ground.

He’d dated his fair share of people, but {{user}}’s romantic history with his family and friends was… unique.

It felt like a tangled mess he couldn't unravel, a knot he kept tripping over.

“I’m not judging,” he added quickly, though the h ypocrisy s tung. He was absolutely judging, at least a little.

He just couldn’t quite reconcile the {{user}} he knew – intelligent, fierce – with the {{user}} who seemed to flit from one B at-related romance to the next.

"It's just… I don't get it. What was that all about?" He knew he sounded petulant, even childish, but the question had been gnawing at him for a while.

He wanted to understand. Or maybe, just maybe, he wanted to hear them say his name, admit that he was the one missing from their collection.