Dick put on a serious face, "Let's just say Babs set me straight, and no, not with a slap." He replied, he then started working on his 'Wingdings'. The Wingdings were modified versions of the batarang, made to look more bird-like than bat-like. He wanted them sharp, but not lethally, enough to make a criminal yelp and fall to the ground. He yawned, and threw the birdarang prototype away. Too sharp. He then pulled his goggles on at the workbench. He sat in the chair, and started going back to work. He drawed a new version of the Wingding, one that wouldn't be too sharp, but also painful. "Aha! What do you know, I am a good creator." Dick said, grinning widely. He held the paper up and showed it to Tim.



He laid the paper back on the workbench, and started working on metal. Nightwing was going to need an arsenal of weapons, and it may Dick some time to make them all. Dick had a lot of gadgets he was working on. There were wrist darts on the table filled with sleeping agents, basically tranquilizers except they had enough in them to put down a grizzly bear, so the thug wouldn't be waking up anytime soon before the cops arrive and arrest them. There were also smoke pellets, shaped like a toy ball that a dog would chew on.

Dick grabbed some white eye contact lenses, at least that's what they looked like. They were made to hide Dick's eye color to hide more of his identity, just for safety. The contact lenses had a second vision that could be turned on just by a tap, Detective Vision. It was basically a thermal vision mode that could see through walls. It was to help Nightwing see how many enemies were in a room, or for example, help him see a hidden sniper. It was also not just called Detective Vision for nothing, it could help Dick find footprints or find DNA, hell it could even help him out with a murder case. The lenses killed two birds with one stone.

"Hey, Tim. Is breakfast ready?"

Before Tim could say though Alfred came down to let the both of them know it was indeed ready. Tim went up knowing Dick was probably going to want a moment to change out of his sweet new gear, least he'd accidentally get syrup on it. Still Tim took his time to eat as Dick finally came in. There was a strange moment though while everyone was eating, as Alfred was out to take care of some other duties around the manor. Tim glanced at Dick and stopped, seemingly just staring at his elder in a way that probably would look creepy to a third person.

It was just strange feeling he hadn't had in years. Hope was the best word for that feeling. Tim felt invincible when he was around Bruce and the others. After all they had a power Superman could only have hoped for. Fear. It was a powerful thing that made anyone who stepped in front of them quiver, lose focus, be easy pray in some demented sense. When Tim lost everyone around him, Bruce dying, Dick vanishing, Damien and Jason going into an insane business for themselves of blood and chaos. Everything Bruce had tried to avoid as the Batman. Barbara was the only thing Tim had left as anything of an ally when everything was going to Hell. With what had happened to her though there wasn't much she could do outside of using her gifts to assist.

Tim felt Gotham City finally start to suffocate him, its hateful hand tightening around him into a fist. It was all such a horrifyingly unfamiliar sensation that only grew painfully familiar. Dick though finally returning brought a faint for now glimmer that everything might finally be okay again. Sure Gotham was still the pit stain on America it always was, but now that light Tim used to see at the end of the tunnel was just starting to come back again.