Limyory requested this one so I hope I did well!!

Dick had always been a little off but with consistently sleep-deprived family and friends, most of it flew under the radar. If he could stay in the air a little longer than most, they put it down to his years of training in acrobatics. If his punches landed a little harder than usual, they put it down to the receiver having a bad day. There was always some sort of explanation that would rationalise whatever he'd done and they were too busy to linger on how often they explained it away. In the back of their minds, they knew something wasn't right but it wasn't enough to worry them. All the weird parts of Dick fell into beneficial actions so what was the point in investigating it any further?

Being kidnapped in and out of costume wasn't unusual. When in the suit, it made sense to be kidnapped to be used as bait, revenge or simply to get them out of the way so whatever evil plans they were trying to stop could go as plans. When out of the suit, ransom was the main goal. These were more annoying. They couldn't employ the skills they'd spent years perfecting and had to play the helpless victim for a few hours until someone else came to save them, usually teasing and taunting about it. 

This time, however, there was no intention of bringing them home.

They were at a gala, another billionaire trying to show they weren't a capitalist's wet dream and donating a sizeable sum to some charity or other. They always invited Bruce since he held the monopoly on charitable causes. From his charity to rehabilitate, house and provide jobs for people trying to escape their criminal past to a charity focusing on covering medical expenses for the less fortunate. He'd come to accept that he was only invited to these events to bolster the event holder's image. 

Of course, you couldn't invite Bruce Wayne without inviting his hoard of children. Nearly all of them joined, mostly for the food on offer. Dick had to decline since he'd just returned from an off-world mission with the Titans and needed time to recover before he could deal with a room full of the most obnoxious people in Gotham. Perhaps the world. 

The event was nothing to write home about. It was another mingling event under the cover of a charity. They waited outside for Alfred to pull the limo around and when he arrived, they all climbed into the back. Tim had been updating Dick on everything he'd missed out on so he sent the obligatory text to say they were heading home. He raised an eyebrow at the response.

Big Bird: oh you guys are making your own way home?

Red (Remix): no, alfred picked us up?

Big Bird: alfred is still at home - he just asked if I wanted to keep some trainers I left there

Big Bird sent a photo!

Tim's heart sank. The photo was a screenshot of Dick's messages, showing that Alfred had left the manor no more than two minutes ago. He could drive fast but he couldn't drive that fast. If it wasn't Alfred in the driver's seat then who was? He subtly passed the phone to Bruce, giving him a concerned glance. The phone slowly made it around the group as they kept their cool. Whoever was behind the wheel clearly hadn't been smart enough to check they didn't have their phones on them. When the phone made it back to him, he wrote a quick reply.

Red (Remix): track us

It seemed the driver noticed they'd lost their ease. They opened the window that allowed them to see into the driver's seat and tossed in a canister before hastily closing it back up. Immediately, the two closest to the passenger doors (Damian and Jason) attempted to get them open but found them locked. They all tried to open the windows but they wouldn't budge. There was no use in trying to smash them since Bruce had taken extra care to make them basically impenetrable. 

As the gas settled, each slumped over in their seat with the sound of Dick's frantic texts being the final thing they could hear before it all went dark.

Bruce was the first to wake up and within moments of opening his eyes, he knew something was wrong. He knew they were floating, or more accurately, sinking. He glanced out of the window and saw nothing but his own reflection staring back at him. His seatbelt held him in place but he could feel the tug of gravity trying to snatch him out of his seat and send him tumbling down the length of the limo. The air was freezing, each breath burning his throat and giving him a brain freeze. Pressure built up around him which did nothing to ease the headache. 

He slowly retraced his steps. They got into the limo, they figured out it wasn't Alfred driving, then a gas canister and passing out. 

He'd expected to wake up tied to a chair with a classic kidnapping room and a few people in masks. He never would've guessed this. There was no villain speech about how they deserved to die for whatever reason or explanation of the horrors that awaited them. He wondered if they kept the gas as a backup for when they realised something was wrong or if they were meant to know exactly what was going to happen with no way to stop it. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed the water was rushing in from the small gaps between the doors and windows. A constant creaking echoed through the vehicle as the metal slowly pushed apart to let more water in. He felt his throat tighten but refused to let panic take over. He distinctly remembered Dick being aware something was wrong and if he knew anything about his first protege, he was stubborn. Too stubborn to allow his family to sink to the bottom of a polluted river. 

Bruce glanced around the group, all still unconscious and showing no sign of waking up soon. He debated waking them. If on the off chance, Dick was too late or the limo submitted to the water surrounding them sooner rather than later, surely it would be better to go out sleeping unaware of your own demise. Maybe that would be the only kindness he could show them. He gripped the seatbelt. Deep down, he knew that one day, at some point, the consequences of allowing these kids into his life would be the thing to destroy them. He swallowed thickly through the guilt.

The moment Tim revealed he thought Alfred was driving, Dick had forgone any idea of getting some rest. His body ached and his brain was sluggish but panic was a hell of a thing. His heart nearly thumped out of his chest when he saw the last text. It nearly sent him over the edge when his replies were left unread. He dove out of bed, temporarily considering driving to Gotham but knowing it would take far too long. He'd never been so thankful to almost sleep in his suit.

This wasn't the same as when they were taken as heroes. They couldn't put up a good fight, they were at a disadvantage and kidnapping an entire family wasn't ransom behaviour. They'd taken Bruce too. Bruce was the one with the money so why take him? 

Sucking in a deep breath, he realised the time was here. He'd kept the secret long enough. His parents swore him to secrecy and whilst he tried to do right by them, he knew it was inevitable that one day he wouldn't be able to make good on his promise anymore. There'd been so many times where he almost did. When things were so calm he thought if there were ever a good time to confess, it would be then. Fear would always stop him in his tracks. Maybe he just didn't want the myriad of questions that would be raised. Maybe he couldn't stand to lose the family he'd made for himself.

Bruce didn't like superhumans, aliens or anything with the face of a human but the nature of something entirely inhuman. He took pride in being a guy in a suit who made himself a hero for no other reason than deciding it would be the right thing to do. The family carried on that pride and he tried his best to pretend he did too. He buried that part of himself so deep in the ground that he often thought it would remain there dead to the world. He thought his parents would be the first, last and only people to know about it. 

That all disappeared when he saw Tim's phone in a Gotham river. He'd rather lose his family over differences of opinion than live with the guilt of getting them all killed to protect something he couldn't change. He'd never used his abilities willingly. Some of them were uncontrollable and unconscious. They just happened no matter how hard he tried to keep them locked up. That didn't stop him from closing his eyes and focusing on where he wanted to go. His fists closed and tightened as he concentrated. Then he evaporated as though he'd never been in his apartment in the first place.

The water was waist-deep and showed no sign of stopping. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd woken up but he knew he wouldn't be long until he was pulled back, this time for an eternal rest. He tried to make peace with his end. In some way, being surrounded by family was a good way to go although he'd never wanted them to meet their end all at once. 

He hoped Dick would manage through. Someone would have to step up for Gotham and Bludhaven but he was sure Dick could do it. He just wasn't sure if he'd survive for long. Alfred would try his best to keep him alive despite his own heartbreak but there wasn't much to stop Dick from taking unnecessary risks when he wanted to. It was painfully unfair but life always seemed to be. 

"I'm sorry," he muttered to the watery grave. There was more he wanted to say, to apologize for and confess to but his energy was dwindling and they couldn't come to mind now.

Suddenly, the once-pitch-black windows lit up. The light blinded him briefly. It was unearthly. He'd never felt both the warmth and brightness of it before. There was something loving about it yet he couldn't place a finger on why. He guessed this was the light at the end of the tunnel everyone harked on about.  The pressure shifted and eased off. The water paused. Not stopped but paused. Like it'd frozen in place without the fractals of ice. He felt the car even out and for a moment, he thought they'd simply hit the bottom of whatever body of water they'd been thrown into. The light never stopped or lessened as Bruce felt his ears pop. 

"Wha's happenin'?" Steph mumbled through the last dregs of drug-induced sleep. She blinked a few times not quite realising the situation they were in. The others did the same, some with groans and others with gasps of air as though they'd had a delayed reaction to the impact of the car hitting the water. So much for hoping they'd sleep through drowning. 

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"Why's it so bright?" Jason complained, shielding his eyes from the light pouring in. 

"I don't know," he replied again. 

The limo groaned but instead of it finally folding to the pressure, cracking open to allow more water, they felt it settle on a solid surface. The water retreated like a skittish rabbit seeing a dog and their seatbelts unclicked themselves. They stared in confused awe. Perhaps it was a group hallucination because the air was in short supply. Their minds might be working overtime to bring them some relief in death. 

Then the doors pulled open and they stared out expecting a crane that had dragged them out or the gates of heaven. It was neither. The light parted to reveal Dick standing in his Nightwing suit on the docks. His eyes were wide and filled with the same light they'd been encased in. His hand was outstretched towards them and he seemed to glow a soft blue flame although there was no way that was possible. 

A few seconds passed before they quickly made their way out of the limo and onto dryland. Their damp clothes dried as they stepped out and gathered together. Dick seemed to wait until they were all out before lowering his hand and his almost angelic glow dimmed. He gave them a small smile that soon dropped to a grimace as the light in his eyes escaped and they rolled back into his head. He crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.

They stared for a moment and all at once, ran towards their fallen saviour. Bruce went into auto pilot, checking his pulse and pulling up his closed eyelids praying he didn't find milky white dead eyes looking past him. He finally eased when he was met with vivid blue.

"What the fuck happened?" Jason asked under his breath. They all had the same question but the only person who could answer was currently unconscious. 

"He saved us," Damian said with some certainty. How, he had no idea but he was sure it'd been Dick who did. Not one for waiting, he gave his older brother a harsh slap to the face that seemed to do the trick and rouse him. He blinked a few times before snapping up into a seated position and checking them over. 

"I thought I was too late for a second," he whispered. His relief was palpable.

"How did you save us?" Tim asked. Like Damian, he was sure Dick had done something. He wasn't sure how he could or how on Earth he'd suddenly been gifted powers but he couldn't be more thankful for the timing. Maybe he'd been bestowed with them on his travels off world.

"It's a long story," he answered. They didn't miss his grave tone. "We should probably get out of here first."

"It is cold," Steph conceded, Cass nodding along. Their gala dresses were nice for the warm events inside but did nothing against the permanent freeze of Gotham. 

"You will be explaining this," Bruce told him. "But with coffee."

"A lot of coffee," Dick agreed.

When they got home and answered as many questions from Alfred as they could, they gathered together in the library with the fire lit and armed with mugs of coffee. They sat in silence for a few minutes as they came to terms with just how close they'd been to death that night. There was something so jarring about it being as their civilian selves and not dressed up ready for battle. They'd be refusing invitations for a while.

"So," Dick began when the pressure became too much. "I guess I better start talking."

"Go at your own pace," Alfred suggested reassuringly.

"It'll be the first time I tell anyone this so I'm sorry if it's a bit confusing." He licked his lips nervously. "When I was five, I died." 

It was like a shock wave through the family but he pushed forward because If he stopped now, he wouldn't have the nerve to continue.

"I tried to use our equipment without supervision or a net and I fell. One of the knife throwers found me and by the time my parents got there, I was already gone. My parents were distraught. I couldn't have been gone more than an hour before they tried to find a way to bring me back to life," he continued. He wished he'd been able to do the same. He was shipped off the crime scene before he had the chance to even consider it. "They found a ritual. Not sure how but they did. It promised to summon the devil and they'd bargain from there for my life."

"Hardcore," Jason commented, getting a jab in the ribs from Tim and dirty looks from the rest of the room. "It was a compliment!"

"It's fine Jay. They were hardcore," Dick assured him with a slight smirk. "When they did the ritual, they didn't meet the devil. I don't know why. Maybe it just wasn't my time to die and when whatever God or Gods up there decided it couldn't end like this. Anyway, I appeared but I wasn't the same." 

His parents never seemed disappointed when they told him the story. If anything, they were relieved that it was him and not evil incarnate. 

"I'd come back as half human, half angel."

"You're a Nephilim?" Damian confirmed.

"Yeah, something like that. I got some powers from it too. You should've seen me as a kid. I used to use them all the time. I remember healing my dad's sprained wrist before they sat me down and told me I couldn't keep using them so openly. I guess they were worried about me being taken away or something," he explained. He stared at the black coffee in his mug. "They said I could never tell a soul. That it would have to be our secret and I couldn't use my powers again. Maybe they just wanted a normal kid again."

"But if you had healing powers, why didn't you heal them when they fell?"

"A mix of things. CPS was snatching me up before I could get close to them, I was in shock and by then, my powers were difficult to handle. They happened rather than being controlled. I'd spent so long keeping them under wraps that when the time came to use them, it was too hard. The prison had some weird paranormal stuff happen which only stopped when I left so I guess that was the extent of it," he answered regretfully. "If I could've saved them, I would've."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

There was the question he was dreading. He hadn't noticed until now that he'd been shaking. 

"What was I supposed to say? How could I possibly explain what I am without a million follow-up questions blaming me for all the horrible things that happened to us? I could've prevented a lot of people dying."

"Why didn't you?" Jason asked.

"Again, my powers were uncontrolled. They still are in some way. Some come naturally, others don't. I think- I think I was scared to. We make a big deal out of being human. If you have powers it makes sense you become a hero but there's some sort of pride that comes with doing it because you think it's the right thing to do." He took a sip of coffee wishing it was something harder. "I was scared how you'd react and I'd spent so long with it being a secret, I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"You used them just fine tonight," Tim pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess part of it was panic. The powers you saw are the ones that come naturally. I don't have to think about using them just like you don't think about breathing," he replied. 

"Will you use them again?" Cass signed.

"I don't know. I don't particularly want to if I don't have to. It would be nice to not have to watch horrible things happen knowing I could do something but I don't want to be another superhero. I like being human more than I like being a Nephilim. If that makes sense."

"It wouldn't hurt to have a secret weapon in the back pocket," Jason offered.

"It's up to you," Bruce stated. "It's your life, Dick. If you want to train or hone what powers you're aware of, you're more than welcome. I'm still proud of you either way but I can't make a decision like that for you. It's got to be your own, separate from how we'll see you."

"How will you see me?"

"The same," he said, the others silently agreeing.

"It couldn't hurt, I suppose. Though I don't know how I'd start. Everything is so repressed and the stuff that isn't, I can't really get a handle on."

"We'll figure something out," Alfred assured him with a light pat on his shoulder. "I will be preemptive and say now, powers will be prohibited in the house for the use of pranks and other mischievousness I have to put up with."

"You got it, Alfie."