Every morning I ride on a carousel
To the sides in my mind that I cannot help
Had to die in heaven just to get to hell

"No."

"No?" Dick repeated incredulously.

"No, and I'm calling one of your brothers, kid."

Dick started to burn in anger, "No you aren't, and you fucking owe me, Slade. You owe me for Joey. If you aren't going to help me then just fuck off and stay out of my way."

"How many times do we need to go over this Grayson. You do not always need to make the sacrifice play. It's a stupid move and I thought I taught you better."

"This is the only play. I came here because I thought you wouldn't waste what little time I have left with fantasies. I was always supposed to die. I was supposed to die with my parents when I was 8. I was supposed to die when I was 17 and decided to see how high I could get on the Golden. I was supposed to die with him. I did die when Luther snuffed me out. The only difference is its actually going to stick now."

Dick stood up and took his plate to the sink, "Now if you will excuse me, I am going to go take a walk on the beach and you aren't going to call a soul. Capeesh?"

Dick didn't turn back to see Slade's face, he knew the old man well enough to know that ultimately he was safe here. That and there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that he would get Deathstroke the Terminator to say capeesh.

Dick slid on some black flip-flops and began his short walk to the waves. It is frankly too cold to actually let the water touch you, but it is still a comfort to get up as close as you can.

It was appreciated that Slade never called Bruce his father and whenever Dick was in over his head and Wilson got involved, he never clued Bruce in. And even if it means explaining to Wally how he ended up unconscious, handcuffed to the door of Wally's dorm, with a note taped on his chest reading "I need therapy, not superheroics." It was worth it for Bruce not to insert himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ohio was a dead fucking end. 

It seems that Dick went there to disappear and Jason is pissed that Dick can do it so well. To the world, Dick Grayson booked a flight last week to Berlin. To Jason, though it was a load of crap, he hacked the security cameras over the gate where his flight should have landed. He never gets off. The gas station had the most grainy black and white footage, all that could really be made out was a mop of black hair. 

He calls Tim. "Hey, my lead went cold. I am going to go take another look around his apartment and I'll call you back." 

When Jason finds Dick, he is going to bill him for the miles he just put on his bike and the massage he's going to need 13-hour drive he just took for nothing. 

Back at the health code violation, Dick called home, there was a gorgeous tall woman with black hair and olive skin yelling at his door. 

"Dick if you don't open this door in the next 30 seconds I am breaking it." 

"He's not there. Who are you?" Jason barked. 

"I'm Donna and you are...?"

"Jason, his brother." Jason's tone is defensive and short.

"Ah, Red Hood, that makes sense. The hair should have given it away."

Jason whips a gun out from under his leather pointing it at Donna's knee. "And you know that how?" he demands. 

Donna smiles a you-are-being-super-stupid-smile at him (the kind Tim gives him all the time) and points at herself, "Troya." 

Jason lowers his weapon and reholsters it. "I'm sorry it's been a really long couple of days, would you like to come in. I have a key. I am sure Dick will appreciate minimal property damage." 

"Yeah, thanks. You said he wasn't here. Where is he? I need to talk to him and it's critical I see him immediately." 

Jason takes the key out of his pocket, a long deep breath, puts it in the lock, swings the door open, flicks the light on, and shows Donna the neatly packed boxes in all their glory. "We don't know. That's what we've been trying to figure out. 

"Di immortales, that self-destructive dumbass. I told him to sit tight. I told him I would handle this and all he would need to do is stay here and do nothing while I fix this. This is so bad."

Donna pulled out her phone and started typing something.

"Okay, since this is an all-hands on deck situation I'm going to go liberate his bourbon from his cabinet. Why don't you go sit down and I'll start explaining." 

"Dick doesn't really drink are you sure he has anything here?"

"Dick doesn't drink and pegasi don't fly." Donna walked up to a wooden panel, knocking against the boards until she heard a hollow sound. 

"Ha!" she shouted in victory. She pressed her palm flat against the wood and pressed until it popped and slid down revealing enough liquor to staff a bar. She reached in and grabbed two glasses and some  BCS Line 15. 

Jason looked shocked. 

Donna handed him a glass and started filling hers. "Don't feel bad you didn't know. Dick likes hiding the parts he doesn't like about himself, which sadly is a significant portion of who he is." 

Jason poured himself a hefty pour, downed it like a shot, and refilled his glass. "What else don't I know about him." 

"Oh, honey. Where to begin?"

"How about where the fuck is he? We'll start there, find him, and he can explain this shit to me himself."

"I don't know where he is. Like I said, he was supposed to sit on the couch, eat bonbons, and watch Netflix until I got back. Right now he is kind of possessed by a demon and I don't know if he's missing because of her or his usual less literal demons."

"Meaning what Troy. I not in the mood for games." 

"I don't know how to say this gently," her voice was soft and full of empathy. "So Dick can be a danger to himself." 

"We are vigilantes trained by some of the most intense people out there. We are all dangerous."

"No, not like that." 

She pauses for a moment, takes another sip, and tries again. "So when Dick was 15 he tried to go diving off the WE building without a line. Ask him and he can tell you with scary accuracy which buildings are the tallest, have easy roof access, and pretty scenic views for any city he's ever lived in. I've gone with him to get his stomach pumped."

"Oh."

"It was the worst when we were Titans. A lot of bad shit happened. Basically from the time Dick got home from patrol with a grazed arm and was kicked out to well, now I guess. Has been one trauma after another, especially for Dick." 

"Dick got kicked out?"

"Mmh. Guess you two have that in common. Though when Bruce did it to Dick it was out of costume. That is why he was so- uh- frosty when he first met you. Bruce stole Robin from him claiming it was too dangerous, for him a 16-year-old with years of training and experience, and gave it to you, a 13-year-old kid fresh off the streets. It was never about you- you, it was always about Bruce and he took it out on you."

"Still shity but I can't say I would act any different." 

"As I heard it, when you found out that you had been replaced you tried to kill Tim. When Dick found out he was replaced he said some mean things to you and came back to Jump to sulk."

"Touché." 

Donna's phone dinged. She grabs it and reads the screen. "Wally, Garth, and Roy haven't seen him. Wally is searching his usual spots and Roy is looking for a sitter for Lian." 

"I can get Tim to hack into his files and see what Dick has been up to lately. See if that offers any clues."

"There's no need. Tell Dick about this and you're dead, but we kinda had Cyborg build a backdoor into his network specifically because he is known for doing shady shit like this. What would be more useful is if you could have Tim hack into Bruce's network and see what is there."

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust that man as far as a civilian could throw him." 

"I mean, fair."