The weight of Bruce Wayne's disappointment was a constant presence in Richard Grayson's life, a shadow that clung to him whether he wore the mantle of Robin, Nightwing, or simply Richard. It was in the subtle tightening of Bruce's jaw, the barely audible sigh when Richard made a mistake, the almost imperceptible lack of praise for his successes. Richard yearned for genuine acceptance, for the unwavering love he saw Bruce bestow upon Jason and Tim. But that love was always just out of reach.
Then came the revelation that shattered the carefully constructed facade of their family. Jason and Tim, they learned, had been formally adopted by Bruce. Richard, however, remained just Bruce's ward, a legal technicality that screamed volumes about his place in Bruce's life. The arrival of Damian, Bruce's biological son, was the final nail in the coffin. Richard was irrevocably relegated to the position of "other," the one never truly chosen, never truly family.
He couldn't take it anymore. The constant pressure, the unspoken judgment, the gnawing feeling of inadequacy – it was suffocating him. He sought solace in the one teammate he knew might understand a desire to escape: Raven.
Her apartment, shrouded in mystic energy, felt like a sanctuary. "Raven," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "is there… is there a way to start over? A real way?"
Raven's dark eyes, often hidden in shadow, were piercingly empathetic. "You speak of reincarnation, Richard?"
He gulped, "Yes. I… I just want it to end. This life. Everything."
Raven explained the process, the sacrifice. "Your physical body must cease to exist. Your soul will be reborn, untethered to this existence. But you will lose all memory of this life, Richard. Everything you are now will be gone."
He swallowed, the fear fighting against his desperation. "I understand."
And so, Richard Grayson died.
He was reborn as James Potter, a mischievous, charismatic wizard with a heart of gold. He knew nothing of Gotham, of the Bat, of the bitter sting of unrequited paternal love. His world was Hogwarts, Quidditch, and the unwavering loyalty of his friends. The events of Harry Potter unfolded as they always had, James falling in love with Lily Evans, fighting against Voldemort, and ultimately sacrificing himself to save his infant son, Harry.
But death wasn't the end for Richard Grayson.
Bruce, driven by grief and a desperate need to reclaim the son he had never truly understood, resurrected Richard using the Lazarus Pit. Damian, now the head of the League of Assassins, facilitated the process, despite the inherent risks. The Pit brought Richard back, but not unscathed. He was alive, but trapped in a coma for two long years, a prisoner in his own mind.
During those years, something extraordinary happened. Richard's dormant memories, the echoes of his past life as James Potter, began to surface. He saw Harry, his son, growing up, struggling with Voldemort's lingering curse and the neglect of the Dursleys. The protective instinct that had ignited in James Potter blazed within the comatose Nightwing.
When Richard finally awoke, he was a man fractured, a soul bound to two lives. He remembered everything: the circus, Bruce, being Robin, being Nightwing, and the love, loss, and sacrifice of James Potter. A desperate, overwhelming need consumed him: he had to find Harry.
He was still only 19, physically. But the memories of two lifetimes weighed heavily on him. He still possessed the innate magic of James Potter, a secret he guarded fiercely. "Harry," he whispered, the name tasting of loss and love.
Without a word to Bruce, Richard disappeared, using his magic to locate Privet Drive. He watched Harry from afar, a skinny, neglected boy with his mother's eyes and his own messy black hair. He saw the Dursleys' cruelty, their utter lack of affection. He couldn't stand it any longer.
He apparated onto the Dursleys' doorstep, his heart pounding. He would save his son.
Meanwhile, back in Gotham, Bruce was frantic. Overjoyed to have Richard back, however changed, he had surreptitiously placed a tracker on him, terrified of losing him again. He didn't understand Richard's strange behavior, his haunted eyes, the unfamiliar magic that flickered beneath his skin. He certainly didn't know about Harry.
The tracker beeped insistently, leading Bruce to a suburban street in Surrey, England. He had no idea what he would find there, only a primal fear of losing Richard again. He had no idea that he was about to come face to face with the consequences of his actions, with the legacy of the life he had unknowingly denied Richard. He was about to discover that his first son had a son of his own, a son he was willing to fight heaven and hell to protect. And Bruce Wayne would have to decide: was he willing to let Richard be happy, even if it meant sharing him with a world he couldn’t control, a world he didn’t know existed?