Chapter Text
“So, wha’ now?” Steph asked.
Dick fumbled. They’d told Alfred already. Now that there was no direct action for them to take, all they could do is stare at the elephant in the room. How young they were.
Both Jason and Steph turned to him with pleading eyes. He understood they didn’t want to guide this interaction. He settled into his familiar role as the eldest.
“Let’s just watch a film or something,” he said lightly. He watched their faces smooth out in relief. Steph hopped down to pick out a DVD. Jason seemed to want to protest for a second, but then stopped, staring at her. Dick examined her and found what made Jason pause.
Her hands shook as she dragged her finger along the DVD cases. Silently, they watched her finger travel over the titles. Finally, her finger came to a stop and she practically clawed a case out.
“This one, we gotta!” she exclaimed, holding up Despicable Me. Jason snorted, leaning back into the couch.
“Oh yeah,” he drawled. “It’s a classic.”
Steph grinned and put it in the DVD player. She hesitated as she approached the couch. The only seat available was in the middle. Dick shuffled over to the middle space, resigning his fate to that of a footrest. Immediately Jason smirked as she shoved his feet in Dick’s lap, wiggling his toes when Dick gave him a deadpan look.
The DVD player made a whirring sound as it started up.
“If anythin’ encapsulates Gotham, it’s this baby,” she said cheerily. “It’s like readin’ some reformed villain’s backstory but, like, funnier.”
A thought passed over Dick before he could stop it. That it was more like a film that depicted the difficulty Bruce had in prioritising his city or his children. Except, of course, funnier. Swallowing, he flicked his eyes over to Jason's face, who also seemed a tad uncomfortable. Maybe they’d had the same thought.
Steph perched on the couch, clinging to the arm.
As the movie played Dick closed his eyes, as always fascinated by the music. American movies in particular seemed to have an orchestra for practically every scene. After a childhood of live music being played around every corner, it was strange to hear such smooth transitions from one piece to the next, with nothing to fill the silence in between.
Margo told her little sisters that they’d eventually come to be happy with Gru. Dick opened his eyes and stared at her. He wondered how old Margo is in this film. She seems about thirteen, he thought to himself.
It struck him how unbearably childish she was. How they all were.
He swallowed.
Steph’s phone flashed as she opened it.
‘Despicable me kids age’ was up in her search bar. Dick leaned over to peek at her screen. Eleven.
“Thought she was older,” he said quietly, trying not to speak over the on screen dialogue.
Steph shot him a quick smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Me too.”
“Who?” Jason asked, scooting closer. Steph showed him her phone. Jason frowned, eyes flicking up to Dick for a second, and then back to the phone screen.
The TV lit up the room as the movie transitioned to a wide shot with the sky in it. The light flickered on Steph’s neck.
Dick inhaled. He pushed her hair out the way of her neck.
Steph sent him a questioning look. He couldn’t stop staring. An ugly bruise wrapped around it, settling on the skin like it’d been there for weeks.
“Steph,” he said, voice coming out more strangled than it had a right to. “Your neck.”
Jason slowly pulled his eyes up from the phone screen as Steph lowered her arm, reaching up to poke her neck.
Dick jumped off the couch and scrambled for the light switch, eyes glued to her neck. In the solid yellow light, it looked even worse.
Steph stood and walked over to the wall mirror.
“Huh,” was all she said.
“This isn’t a ‘huh’ scenario,” Jason snapped, walking over to her. Steph clenched her jaw, examining herself for other injuries. Jason loomed over her, his brow twitching. Dick reached out to steady Jason’s shoulders. When Jason turned to look at him, his face was fiercely protective, his eyes running over Dick for any sign of injury.
Dick gasped. Jason’s lip swelled. It looked like it had stopped bleeding just minutes ago.
“It’s not just her,” Dick said slowly, returning the favour and searching Jason for other injuries. Jason pulled away with a scoff, turning to the mirror and freezing.
“Oh shit,” he whispered. “That’s…”
Dick steeled himself, and then risked a glance at the mirror. Aside from looking shaken, there were no visible injuries. He allowed himself to relax a little.
“What-” he cut himself off. He could get explanations later. “I’m gonna get water and an ice pack, do you guys want anything else?”
Jason fiddled with his lip in a way that set off Dick’s older brother instincts, resisting the urge to swat the hand away. Jason shook his head, confusion clouding his features.
“It doesn’t hurt or nothin’,” Steph said warily, as if just saying that would jinx it. She pinched the skin on her throat for emphasis. Jason nodded.
“S’weird,” he muttered, prodding his lip.
A door swung open and banged against the wall. Dick braced himself for something even as he chided himself. It was Tim, he knew it was Tim.
By the time Tim stumbled into the room, mid-sentence, Dick had only just managed to pull himself out of a fighting stance.
“So freaky, shit, guys, found out tha-” he paused, eyes on Steph and Jason. They rested on Steph’s neck for a long time.
“Steph,” he said softly. It was moments like these when Dick remembered they dated. When gentle, intimate moments were called back to. Steph’s eyes watered as he took a few halting steps towards her. “Is this?...”
She nodded, silent. The silence didn’t suit her. He snuck a glance at Jason. It seemed to have finally clicked for him. How much he and Steph had in common. Jason’s face twisted up with hurt.
“I get why you were so mad at her now,” Tim said quietly, eyes floating down to her neck for just a second. “Not that I didn’t before, just…wow.”
Steph snorted. Her bitter smile made Dick frown.
“Yeah, she jus’ forgave ‘im again after this,” she said, pointing to her neck. “Like it was hers to forgive.
Pain fluttered in Tim’s unsure movements as he approached her, reaching out for her hand.
“I don’t want to have to ask you questions about this.”
She swallowed, and nodded.
“You have to. Ah get it. Not like you can get Damian to do it,” she said with a shaky smile. Her gaze travelled to meet Dick’s. He gave her a small nod.
“Tim,” Dick interrupted. Tim dropped Steph’s hand and stepped back, falling back into an imitation of batman. “What’s going on?”
“Our bodies are catching up,” he began, voice level. “As far as I can tell there’s no physical pain even where there are injuries, like this,” he pulled up his shirt to reveal a bruise on his side. “I remember getting this on patrol back when my suit wasn’t armoured on the sides. It was what made me change the design. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s here. And it was around the time that we-” he looked at Steph for a moment, and then flushed when she laughed. “Uh, yeah.”
“Smooth,” said a voice behind him. Cass appeared in the corridor, eyes on Steph’s neck. She still had her suit on, her expression too neutral to be real. Steph turned away from her gaze.
Jason huffed. Tim cleared his throat and let Cass rest her arm on his shoulder.
“My injuries have been logged, but I’m gonna guess that yours aren’t, um, patrol related.”
“Nice one, detective,” Steph commented, rolling her eyes. Jason gave her a funny look.
Dick brushed his arm against Jason’s. Instinctively, he felt his brother's eyes on him, waiting for something Dick couldn’t give. His own account. Injuries or not, Tim would want some kind of context. All context led right back to the man he couldn’t think about for more than two seconds without becoming nauseous.
Dick tried opening his mouth, to say something, anything. But his jaw remained clamped shut. After a few seconds of silence, Dick felt Jason’s gaze leave him. His brother sighed.
“Needed money,” he said gruffly. “Yknow what crime alley’s like.”
Steh nodded sagely. Dick swallowed the rage that bubbled in his chest. His baby brother. Not much older that Margo from a fucking kids film. Offering him ice cream, recognition in his eyes. Flinching away from unnecessary touches at galas. The way his face had hardened with barely hidden vulnerability whenever he had no choice but to trust someone. He was a child, through and through. At least Slade had the excuse of Dick being a hero. Jason, at the time, was just a kid.
Dick squeezed his shoulder.
“Don’t need your pity, Dickhead,” Jason snipped.
“Too late,” he said shortly. “You were in a shit situation and you were a kid. It sucks. I wish it didn’t happen.”
Jason nodded, inhaling deeply. He hummed in acknowledgement.
“Injuries,” Cass prompted. Jason bristled, deep breathing forgotten. He and Cass never got along.
“Cass,” Dick said quietly. “Can you go help Damian?”
“It’s fine,” Jason said in a tone that indicated it was very much not fine. “I chickened out after I offered and he got pissed. Shoved me against the wall, hence this.”
Tim nodded.
“Thanks.” Quickly, he moved on to Steph. Dick grimaced. He knew Tim was in bat mode, but the situation called for something more than a simple thanks.
He brushed his hand against Jasons, letting his own shake. He let his jaw tremble a little too. He wasn’t exactly faking his fear; he just knew that Jason was more likely to accept comfort if he thought Dick needed it too.
Jason raised his eyebrows until he spotted Dick’s jaw. Quickly, he grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard.
Surprisingly, Jason put his head on Dick’s shoulder. It was like he’d done when they were younger. Automatically, Dick used his free arm to encase him in a hug, clinging tighter when he felt his shoulder start to get wet. Over Jason’s frame, he sent the others a stern look, daring them to say something.
Steph stared at them with something like longing in her eyes.
“Injuries,” Cass prompted again. Steph fidgeted under her gaze. The birds chirped outside the window, too cheerful for the atmosphere in the room. Steph opened her mouth, and then closed it. She swallowed.
“You never told me,” Cass said. Steph shook her head wildly, eyes wide.
“No, it wasn’t like tha’,” she said, breath coming quickly. “This,” she pointed to her neck, “was from da- me dad. Ah never knew when to shut up,” she said with a weak laugh. Her fragile grin wobbled in the ensuing silence.
Cass turned to Tim with rage in her eyes. Tim, still in batman-mode, didn’t seem to notice, still typing on his tablet. Dick watched Steph’s eyes slid back and forth over the two of them before a realisation hit her.
“It wasn’t Tim,” she corrected, taking a step towards Cass. Tim looked up with a confused expression. Dick was almost in awe of just how unaware Tim was of being threatened. Almost, because he was mostly concerned. “It’s jus’ strangulation and bruised ribs,” she added quickly, her eyes back on Tim.
Cass paled.
“Thanks,” Tim said again, typing in the information.
‘If not Tim, then who?’ Cass signed, frustration visible in her halting motions.
“Boyfriend at the time,” she answered coolly. “He had his own place so ah went ‘round to his after me dad tried to uh,” she hesitated. “Shut me up.”
Dick raised his eyebrows. Old enough to have his own place. In Gotham. He really hoped he was wrong about his assumption.
“Steph, how old was he?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. Cass had no such intentions. She stared at Steph with an intensity that made Dick squirm.
“You don’t need tha’ for the injury report,” she snapped, her face flushing with rage. Cass softened in the face of it. Dick hadn’t even realised his sister was in a fighting stance until that point.
‘Not asking as a bat,’ she signed.
Steph turned away from her, grinding her teeth for a few seconds. She breathed out slowly.
“He was like, nineteen,” she said briskly.
“You could not consent,” Cass said, her voice cracking. Steph’s mouth twitched.
“I wasn’t a child, Cass,” she said with an eye roll, trying and failing to pull off a lighthearted tone. Jason detached his face from Dick’s chest.
“Sure fuckin look like one from where I’m standin,” he said. Steph glared at him. He returned it, but with tear tracks still visible on his face it didn’t exactly have the same ferocity.
Cass seemed torn with herself. Dick recognised the look on her face. It was the look you get the moment when you recognise that you would do unspeakable things to protect someone. Every time he experienced it, it tore him up inside. Ate at his morals.
‘He should be in prison,’ she signed, looking furious.
“He’s not though, is he?” Dick said gently. He said it mostly to get her attention. She looked at him with that look still on her face, like she was contemplating things worse than prison. He tried to communicate with his gaze that he knew exactly how she felt. Her eyes widened just a little, and he hoped she had understood.
“Dick, I need to talk to you actually,” Tim said.
Dick visibly cringed at the incoming turn in conversation.
Jason squeezed his hand, and Dick tried to still his trembling shoulders. He could totally do this.
“You said you were thirteen. There are a few months that don’t have any reports at all, and I can't find anything that documents a big injury that would prevent patrol. I’m going to guess this is important knowledge in regard to possible injuries. What happened?”
Dick shuddered. He hadn’t meant to, and Jason looked up in alarm.
What happened. Dick could still remember the silence as it happened. Heavy breathing. Horrible wet noises. His heart thudded as he ripped himself away from Jason.
From the look of everyone in the room, the movement hadn’t come off as casual.
“My team,” he said with a rasp. He coughed, and shook his head when Steph offered to get him water.
“Deathstroke,” he said quickly, the name rolling off his tongue with difficulty. It felt useless in his mouth, and the fact that he knew Slade better by first name made it feel all the more slow and swollen. “Put nanobots into my team. The Titans. It’d kill them. They didn’t know, and I went after him on my own for an unrelated reason.”
He paused, waiting for a reprimand. Some kind of familiarity. When none came, he slumped his shoulders in disappointment. He’d give anything for a fight.
“He made me a deal.” As he spoke, he knew reality was getting further away. He almost zoned out. It reminded him of facing the wooden skirting board, head pushed to the ground.
Jason made a move towards him, seemingly without any thought. He hesitated halfway.
Any other time, Dick might have cooed at the open protectiveness and affection in his brother's expression. As it was, he could only swallow down nausea.
“You can put the pieces together,” he finally spat out.
Tim nodded.
“I need to go log this,” Tim said awkwardly, looking very much like he wanted to stay. Cass put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Bruce will be here soon,’ she signed.
Dick wanted to wrap Tim in about five blankets and cuddle him on the couch. But then, he didn’t know if he could stomach physical contact. Let alone cuddling. Cass remained in the doorway.
“Well,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. He knew from the look on Cass’ face that he failed. “That sucked.”
Jason laughed, loud and shaky.
“Right? No wonder we didn’t do that earlier.”
Steph swallowed. She didn’t look at them, hand wrapped up tight in her shirt. Her ribs were visible again. Dick wondered if they’d let him cook for them. Or if they were even hungry, considering.
She didn’t look up as she spoke.
“You guys knew about each other?”