"Yo, Oracle. You're getting me something good for Christmas, right?" Jason asked abruptly, making Dick jolt ever so slightly, concentration breaking.

"Hood, I'm trying to hack into a security system at the moment. Could you at least wait until after I'm done?" He asked, fingers flying over the keyboard even as his mind strayed to Jason's question. He froze. "Wait. Christmas? It's Christmas? When?"

A shocked gasp sounded loud in his ear. "You forgot Christmas? You?"

"I've been a little busy..." Dick rolled his eyes, although he was internally starting to panic. He loved Christmas. He had been the one in their family insisting that Christmas be a celebrated holiday. To have forgotten it... well... it was not good. "When... when is it?"

"Shame on you, Oracle. Shame."

"You're not going to tell me, are you? Fine. I'll just look it up myself." Dick grumbled, hitting the last few keys to finish the program that was running. "Security's down. You're clear to go in." He said absently, pulling up a separate tab and googling the date. "Oh no..."

"Oh no what? Oracle? You good?"

Dick ignored the voice in his ear, eyes wide as he stared at the date. It was not possible, right? There was no way Christmas was that soon.

"Umm... hello? Oracle, seriously, say something."

The words filtered in one ear and out the other as Dick pulled up another tab, re-searching the date. Oh no. It really was true.

"That's it. I'm calling Bruce."

"What? Oh... no. It's fine... well it's not really fine, but... I'm fine. I think I'm fine at least..." Dick was still staring at the date displayed large and clear on the screen in front of him. It was currently December twenty third. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. "Hey, Hood?"

"Yeah, kid?" Jason asked, voice slightly strained, the faint sounds of gunshots sounding in the background.

Still staring at the date, Dick sighed. "You good on your own? I need to do some shopping."

Jason snorted. "Sure thing, little wing. Just make sure my present's the best."

"No promises." Dick disconnected the call and pulled out his earpiece, making sure everything was organized neatly on the desk before steering his chair away. "Come on, Ace. We've got stuff to do."

With a happy little bark, the puppy trotted along behind him and into the elevator.

Christmas Eve was always chaotic in the Wayne household, as generally they forgot to put up decorations until last minute. It was also when presents were handed out, a tradition started after one fateful Christmas Day when a ten-year-old Dick had made the mistake of jumping on Damian's bed at five in the morning leading to an accidental sword injury and subsequent hospital visit. For the benefit of all parties involved, Bruce and Alfred had made the executive decision to move main Christmas festivities to the night before the actual day, leaving plenty of sleep in time Christmas morning.

Of course, they still held celebrations on the actual day, but those were much more relaxed, centering around a large brunch and Christmas movie marathon, to which the boys were allowed to invite friends. Following the eventual exhaustion of good Christmas movies, or one of the boys growing fed up enough to start threatening violence to the TV, the festivities continued into the kitchen were a gingerbread building competition was held.

After winning five years in a row, Alfred had been banned from participating and relegated to the position of judge, a much needed position as voting generally led to an outburst of violence and gingerbread manslaughter. However, in the three years that Dick had been gone, Christmas had become a dull occasion, especially after the first year when Alfred and Bruce had learned the hard way that pitting Tim and Damian against eachother without another sibling to act as damage control was a sure fire way to cause disaster.

According to Alfred, it had taken weeks to clean up the kitchen properly, and he had found stray pieces of candy for nearly a year afterward. When Tim and Damian were questioned about the incident, neither would admit to the chaos they had caused, although Damian did mutter something about frosting in his hair. At the mere mention of what Dick discovered had been dubbed 'the incident', Bruce began shaking his head and muttering, eyes taking on a far away and very haunted expression.

Still, despite the clear mishaps that had occurred in his absence, Dick was enjoying spending time with his family now, Christmas music playing as Damian and Jason struggled with the massive tree in the entryway. Unable to complete his normal task of climbing to the top and adding the star, Dick settled with carrying boxes of decorations to the tree, ferrying them on his lap as Bruce rummaged through their dust filled decorations closet, pulling out box after box of sparkly ornaments. Tim had taken up sorting duty, arranging the boxes neatly at the foot of the tree, making it easier for Jason and Damian to pick out the correct ones for tasteful decoration.

It was a team effort, and one that the entire family enjoyed, even if Jason and Damian were swearing at eachother with every other word, only ceasing their fighting to gang up on Tim who insisted on critiquing nearly every ornament placement. Alfred was supervising, of course, but the elderly man knew better than to break up the sibling squabbles. Fighting was what they did after all. It would not be Christmas in the Wayne household without at least two death threats and one attempted murder.

By the time everything was decorated and the dust swept away, the sun was already setting on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the transformed entryway, the tree sparkling in the light, surrounded by piles of pillows and blankets. Presents were something that the family gave sparingly, as they could easily just purchase whatever they desired, however, the gifts that they did give were always either one of two things, special and more personal in nature, or a full-on gag gift. There was no middle ground.

As light completely faded from the sky, Alfred and Bruce began to move about the room, lighting carefully placed candles around the room. Most were securely covered, they had learned the hard way with that too, but they were still abundant, casting a flickering light across the room, dim enough to create a cozy atmosphere but bright enough for everyone to see fairly well. Once the last candle had been set into place, the boys entered the room, each finding a comfy position on the mounds of blankets and pillows, the presents which they would give kept close. Years of sibling experience had taught them all to never put a present under the tree. Someone, most likely Jason, would open it and/or steal it.

Tim helped Dick down onto the blankets, settling in beside him and sending Jason a warning look. "Hands off the gifts, Jason. Don't think I can't see you inching closer."

"As if I want your presents, Drake. Don't be a fucking idiot." Jason retorted, continuing to move closer until he was comfortably situated on Dick's other side, slinging an arm over Dick's shoulders and tugging him in close. "I'm allowed to be affectionate. It's fucking Christmas."

"You? Affectionate?" Damian asked with a laugh, although he too was situated surprisingly close to Tim, close enough that they could be considered to be cuddling if either moved an inch in the other's direction.

Jason lifted an eyebrow, mouth opening to no doubt point out that closeness. Dick elbowed him in the stomach, the appendage extra sharp due to his dangerously skinny frame.

"Owww." Jason whined, pouting down at Dick. "I am mortally offended. You better have gotten me one hell of a gift to make up for this."

Dick smirked, shrugging and cuddling in closer to his normally hostile older brother. "You'll have to wait to find out. I want to save giving mine until tomorrow."

"You do?" Bruce asked, him and Alfred taking up their respective positions amongst the heaped up soft items. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah... I'm still working on one." Dick nodded, unable to hide the grin that spread across his lips at Tim's sigh.

"But... presents..."

"Shut up, Drake." Jason said before breaking down into a fit of laughter as Tim's defeated expression somehow managed to look even more sad. "Awe~ Poor baby. You always tell me to shut up. Now it's my turn."

"Both of you shut up." Damian cut in, smirking when Jason's laughter turned into pouting. "Time for gifts."

The gift giving went surprisingly smoothly, especially considering the fact that no one had purchased gag gifts this year. No, all were special, albeit the occasional few being childish and fun. It was sweet, and as the evening drifted closer and closer to morning, Dick found himself hanging on each and every word that was spoken, lips parting in laughter more than once.

It was a peaceful atmosphere, one immersed in coziness and an undeniable purity, for tonight they were not the dark guardians of Gotham City. Tonight, they were simply a family. Sure, maybe they had some issues, and maybe they did not all fully get along, and maybe they would be at each other's throats the following day, but in this moment, they were perfect.

Everything was perfect.

Dick smiled softly as he looked around at his family, warmth filling his chest and practically overflowing outward. He was happy. Finally, finally, he was truly and surely happy. It felt... it felt nice. Beyond nice even. With a softly murmured 'goodnight', Dick steered his wheelchair away from the cozy room, resolve slowly forming. This had been a good night. It was worthy of being his last night.

He had been lying about working on a present.

He knew exactly what he was going to give each family member, and they were all laying neatly on his bed, notes attached to each object except one. For Tim there would be Zitka, the stuffed elephant which had kept Dick company every night since his very first arrival at the manor. For Damian there was a blanket that Dick's mother had made for him as a baby, one of the few things he still had from her. For Alfred there was a photo book filled with Dick's most fond childhood memories; a truly treasured item. For Bruce, there was the circus costume which Dick had worn the night of his parents' deaths; the night they had met. And, finally, for Jason there was what Dick currently considered his most valued possessions; Ace the Bat-Hound. Of course, a note could not exactly be attached to the dog, but Dick had placed it with the other gifts, a small doodle of a puppy sitting right below his brother's name, along with information inside.

Dick knew that his family really would be okay without him. They might miss him, sure, but they would recover. They would be okay.

With those final thoughts, Dick slipped out of his wheelchair and onto his bed, Ace jumping up after him and happily curling into his side. His smile remained as he gently stroked the dog's fur with one hand and reached for his bedside table with the other, picking up his bottle of sleeping pills. Hands steady, Dick unscrewed the cap and popped out two before replacing the cap and setting the bottle back on his table. In one swift motion, Dick downed the pills.

He reached around his head, pulling off the oxygen tube which had been enabling him to breathe properly for weeks now and placing it too on the bedside table. Fingers still running through Ace's fur, Dick let his eyes drift closed.

It was time to move on.

After all, he had been dead ever since that fateful night in the cavern all those years ago.

His body had died when the demon had entered it.

Because, what was a bird with no wings?

What was a Flying Grayson who could no longer fly?

Richard Grayson was well and truly dead and had been for a long time now.

Now all he needed to do was return home; to see first family again.

And, as Dick was pulled into the dark embrace of oblivion for one final time, he smiled.

This family would be fine without him.

His job here was done.

It was the end.