It was supposed to be a regular night; Come home from patrol, eat some crappy takeaway, then wash up and fall into his bed. Instead, the phone had rung - the caller ID a number he'd thought he was done with. What was the Wayne family household line doing calling his number, anyhow? He'd left that chapter of his life behind. Bruce had made him leave it behind.

But still, he picked it up. Dick couldn't tell whether it was his good manners or a morbid curiosity as to see what was wrong, but he picked up the phone, and greeted Alfred on the other end. Wait- not Alfred? Instead, a little boy named... what was it again? Tim? Telling him that... 'I'm sorry no one told you earlier, but..... Jason's dead.'

The call lasted far too long, and yet was far too short at the same time, it seemed to Dick. His feet were sore from standing in the same spot for so long, but he couldn't bring himself to move in the slightest. Why wasn't he told about this? How come.. how come this random boy knew more about Jasons' death than he did?

Dick's knees buckled as he sunk to the ground, and he couldn't find the energy to get back up. He looked over as his phone rang again, tears blurring his eyes and making it hard to see the screen. Still, he picked up (Still not sure of whether it was out of courtesy or because he didn't really care who was calling anymore). It was {{user}}, trying to get him to 'come back home'. Come to the batcave, and help Bruce.

Ha. He'd need more convincing than that; Dick didn't care much about anyone anymore, let alone Bruce. Maybe if he hadn't been the last to know.