Gotham's night wind was so cold it nearly froze the tears on his face. When tears filled one's eyes, every light became blurred and dreamlike, like a sad romantic poem.
Sitting on the edge of the building, Dick felt the cold wind blowing across the tears on his face, nearly freezing his skin stiff. Then, he suddenly heard unusual footsteps behind him—steady, yet heavy.
Dick turned around. The moment he saw that dark, slender figure, he instinctively shuddered. But in the next second, he realized that this was not the Batman he knew.
Normally, facing a strong stranger should have made him nervous. Yet once he realized that fact, Dick felt relieved. Right now, he would rather face an enemy than Bruce.
"You shouldn't be here." A voice far deeper than Bruce's rang out again.
Dick turned back and sat down on the edge of the rooftop. Sniffling, he said, "I don't even know you. Who are you to tell me where I should be?"
"Didn't he teach you not to leave your back exposed to strangers?" Though the unfamiliar figure said this, he showed no intention of attacking. He merely walked over slowly and stood beside Dick.
"There's plenty he never taught me, and I don't need him to." Dick braced both hands against the roof's edge.
"He isn't a good father." The unfamiliar Batman said, "Batman disappoints everyone."
"I'm the one who disappointed him." Dick quietly watched the countless lights below the rooftop. He took a deep breath and said, "I know I made him angry. I made him feel disappointed, and sad too."
"I don't know what drives me to do this." Dick shook his head. "I don't know why, when I'm face-to-face with him, there are so many negative emotions inside me, like an ocean."
"I