Richard stood over the battered form of his enemy, chest heaving, his breath sharp in the cool night air. The fight had been long—brutal, even—but he’d managed to get the upper hand. You lay motionless on the ground, limbs sprawled awkwardly in the wake of your defeat. He could feel the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but the immediate threat had passed. For a brief, fleeting moment, he allowed himself the luxury of lowering his guard. His hand reached up to remove the familiar weight of the mask that had been pressed tightly to his face.

The domino mask slipped off easily, and as it left his features, Richard felt an odd sense of vulnerability wash over him. It was a small disguise, but it'd kept his identity hidden for so long. He wiped his brow, his focus shifting as he looked at the defeated figure on the ground, convinced they were out cold, finally at peace.

But then, a faint movement caught his eye.

His breath caught in his throat. You stirred, just enough to make the smallest noise, a breath that wasn’t quite a groan. He froze, heart hammering in his chest as your lips curled into a smirk, your eyes barely open but filled with a malicious gleam. The sight of that grin sent an icy chill down his spine.

"So this is who you are," your voice, low, hoarse and mocking, rang out. "All this time, and I never knew... I’m impressed, Grayson."

The weight of your words hit him like a truck. The world seemed to stop moving, and for the first time in years, he felt exposed.

Richard's hand instinctively went to his eyes, fingers hovering over his exposed skin as the realization hit him like a wave. His identity was out in the open. He wasn’t Nightwing anymore. He was just Richard Grayson.

But now, the truth lay before you.

The words were still fresh, ringing in his mind. Impressed. Richard gritted his teeth.

"You’re not supposed to be awake," Richard muttered, his voice harsh with a mix of anger and disbelief. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself.