Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-

The video opened up to a somewhat grainy image of inside the bat cave, followed by the familiar figure of Dick storming inside and heading towards Bruce. The time stamp was missing from the corner of the footage, but with the lingering bruise from Jason’s punch still visible on Dick’s face, it was clear that this was taken not much longer after Dick had first returned.

“Look, I know you’ve been avoiding me but we need to talk-“

“You cannot inform your siblings of what happened.” Bruce interrupted, already knowing what Dick wanted to talk about.

Dick’s expression however, showed complete disbelief at his answer. “You.. you can’t be serious. After everything.. you still want me to keep secrets from them?”

“It would complicate things.” Bruce stated firmly and unbudgingly.

“For god sakes Bruce, They mourned me! Don’t you think they’d feel like their feelings were a little more validated if they knew I really did die? You know how we felt after Jason… and after Dami-“

Dick’s voice broke but Bruce took the opportunity to immediately cut in.

“That’s not the same.” Bruce’s voice was harsh and cold.

“…No. It’s not. Wh-when Lex Luthor stopped my heart, I wasn’t dead very long. And I didn’t need a magical pit to revive me. So I get that to you it probably doesn’t-“ Dick’s voice was shaky as he finished quietly “-doesn’t count.”

“That’s not what I said.“ Bruce’s mouth tugged into a frown, upset.

Dick didn’t seem to see it. “No. It’s fine. I get it.” He soldiered on “But if that’s the story you’re going with, -without informing me in advance by the way. Thanks for that. Was kind of shocked when the first thing I get when seeing everyone is an accusation of being a liar about my own death- But putting that aside, if you’re saying that you didn’t want to put them through grieving me then how could you not tell them I was alive sooner? You made them go through all that pain when you promised me you would tell them when the time was right!”

“You were in a very dangerous situation.” Bruce stated neutrally.

“You think?” Dick replied sarcastically “Thanks for finally acknowledging that. But I don’t see what that has to do with... Oh.”

Bruce was uncomfortably quiet as the implications sunk in.

“It was a suicide mission.” Dick concluded as he pressed the heels of his palm to his eyes, a near hysterical laugh barking out of his lips when Bruce did nothing to deny it. “I mean I knew that. I knew there was a good chance I might not come back from it. It would have hurt them more… to have had to mourn me twice if I couldn’t make it back. I guess… I can see why you didn’t think it was a good idea to tell them unless I actually came home.”

Bruce’s moved a heavy hand towards clapping it on Dick’s shoulder, but Dick flinched away before it could land.

“I knew you would make it back.” Bruce told him softly.

Judging by the expressions on camera, it didn’t look like either of them were sure he really believed it.

“Okay.” Dick let out a deep exhale, visibly trying to put himself back together as he dropped his hands from his face “Okay,” He said again “but what about now? The mission is over. So why do I still have to keep up with all these lies? Can’t I just..”

“Dick. It’s over. There’s no point in revisiting things that will only complicate and emotionally compromise them.”

Dick looked frustrated but tried to keep his cool and speak calmly as he explained his reasoning. “Look I get that you’re worried what they’d think of you if anyone found out how you persuaded me to accept the mission, but I’d hope you’d know me well enough to understand that i’m not trying to ruin any of the relationships you’ve built between you and our family, you know I’d never do that.

I mean come on B, haven’t I been the one who always encouraged bonding between you guys in the first place? When you were too emotionally constipated to talk to them or tell them how you feel who do you think was the go-between? Who encouraged them to give you a chance and explained all the ways that you showed your love for them? Who had to coach you and keep giving you hints and advice on how to connect with them? Do you really think I would want to do anything to ruin the progress you’ve finally made after years of playing mediator now that you’re all actually getting along? I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t say anything that would make them doubt you as a good father to them. I’m glad that you were able to resolve some of the tension and become closer when I was gone. I’m glad that you were a better father to them these past several months and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that. I wouldn’t even have to tell them any details on what went down between us or what you did to ‘convince me’ to leave for Spyal which I know is what you’re most worried about how they’d react to.

All I ask is that you try and understand that you’re asking me to sacrifice my relationship with my brothers at a time when I need them most. And you’re talking about an emotionally compromising situation when they already are emotionally compromised towards ME. Bruce they hate me right now! They don’t trust me! They can’t even stand to look at me! And while under normal circumstances I might have been able to just grin bear it; to accept and carry their hatred to cover for you, these are not normal circumstances. I’ve just come back from the most difficult mission of my life and I’m NOT OKAY. Quite literally, the only thing that got me through it was the thought of coming home to my family and now you’ve taken away my only support system by feeding them so many lies I can’t even keep track what I’m supposed to say to them. If you could just let me tell them at least some semblance of the truth of what happened before I left…”

But Bruce only shook his head, his frown becoming more pronounced. “I doubt they truly ‘hate you’ as you claim, and telling them the truth now would only have them feel guilty for being unwelcoming upon your return. What good would it do to cause them unnecessary hurt?”

Dick closed his eyes to the sting of Bruce implying that his hurt and pain didn’t matter as much as his brothers and instead concentrated on assuring him with the truth. “They would have no reason to feel guilty… they didn’t know. I’ll make sure they know that I wouldn’t hold it against them. It’s not their fault.”

“You believe it to be mine.” It was stated in a way that said Bruce didn’t quite agree with it.

But Dick only gave a slightly hysterical laugh in return. “Do you even have to ask that? Of course it’s your fault! I didn’t want to go! I told you NO.”

“Dick..”

“No! NO! I said no… I said no… I.. no one ever listens when I don’t want to do something...” Dick’s gaze started to get glassy and far away, as though he was seeing something else. “I said no to her too. I told her no but she didn’t stop…” His breathing started to quicken as he started to shiver,  wrapping his arms around himself and scratching his own arms as though he wanted to claw his own skin off. His muttering became low enough that the audio on the camera could barely pick it up and would need further enhancing to hear fully. “I said no…I didn’t want it.. I didn’t want…” Dick continued mumbling to himself, his breathing becoming faster and faster in fear before he was completely hyperventilating.

“Chum, breathe.“ Bruce moved forward and reached out towards him, as if wanting to try and ground him.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Dick screamed, jerking away from Bruce and stumbling backwards to try and get away from him. In an instant he was suddenly falling to his knees and vomiting all over the floor.

“Dick!” Bruce worriedly knelt down beside him, clearly wanting to reach out to him but not wanting to cause any more distress as he attempted to coach him through some deep breathing.

Dick didn’t say anything in reply, it was unclear if he was even seeing Bruce as he pulled at his hair, and breathed raggedly, a few stray tears slipping down his face. There was a jump cut in the video then, as though to hide the exact amount of time Dick had needed to come back from his panic attack to preserve some of his dignity. When the video continued it was to when Dick had finally started to calm down. The sickness on the floor had been cleaned up.

It was Bruce who spoke first. “Dick… are you back with me chum?”

Dick nodded slowly, scrubbing a hand over his face. The sound of a lone strangled sob escaped, his shoulders shaking before he seemed to pull himself back together. And for anyone watching, it must have been both sickening yet impressive to see how easily Dick was able to pull his masks up as though to completely write off what had just happened.

“I don’t want to talk about it. You’d just let that change the subject from the matter at hand.”

“Dick… we don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to, but I just want to make sure you’re alright.” Bruce replied with clear concern in his gaze. But it was a callous choice of words because it immediately caused another outburst from Dick.

“OF COURSE I AM NOT ALRIGHT! YOU SENT ME TO INFILTRATE SPYRAL!”

Bruce looked on with that worried frown again, his hand sightly twitching towards him as though he wanted to reach out to him before thinking better of it when Dick’s breathing picked up again. Instead Bruce waited for them both to stand up again and purposely put more distance between them until Dick’s shoulders lowered. When he spoke again, Bruce seemed to be honouring Dick’s request to not draw attention to the reason behind his panic attack… at least for now.

“I understand taking on this mission solo was hard for you. But everyone’s safety was at risk. You were the best person given the circumstances that had just transpired. It was all for the greater good.”

“I KNOW THAT! I would do anything for this family and I did do everything for them. So don’t you fucking dare make my one request to save myself sound selfish. Because that’s what this is. This is me saying I need- I.. I’m not coping well. You put me in a position where I had to give away every single bit of myself, everything that made me who I am, everything I beleived in. I had to give away my life, my body, my mind, my heart, sometimes it even felt like my soul was ripped away from me. But I’ve done it before and I’d do it again if it meant keeping those I loved safe, even if it leaves me with nothing left. This wasn’t about me being unwilling to put myself in a bad position to save everyone else. It was that maybe if you had just given me a chance to breathe and discuss it with me rationally first instead of forcing me into it with no other choice but to obey you! We could have made a better plan where at least someone else knew where I was incase I was in trouble and needed backup instead of throwing me in there alone.”

“We both agreed.” Bruce said with a furrow in his brow, as though something was not lining up.

Dick threw his hands up in the air, the picture of incredulous. “Are you kidding me right now? You seriously have the nerve to say that to my face? I had just freaking died after being tortured! My body hadn’t even recovered yet and most importantly Dami was still gone! I was not in a healthy state of mind by any means to agree to anything but even then I had enough sense to tell you that there was no way I was going to lie to everyone. I flat out told you that I didn’t want to go to Spyral and you beat me into submission! What part of that sounds like mutual agreement to you?” He cried out in frustration.

But Bruce just looked unphased, the tightening of his jaw the only indication of him feeling angry at the accusations. “You are blowing things out of proportion. It was a spar to prepare you for what was to come and if memory serves correctly, You won.”

“Won what? Defending myself against an enraged father? That wasn’t a spar or a training match, and you said it yourself! That was- Bruce.. do you even remember what you did to me? This wasn’t like the times when I caused you to lose your temper and you went a little rough taking it out on me. This was something else entirely. You made it clear that either I dragged myself to Spyral on my own two feet or you were sending me there in a bodybag! Either way it didn’t seem like you were going to waste that funeral you had already held for me. There was never any agreement, you didn’t. give. me. a. choice.”  Breathing heavily once it finally seemed like his words were sinking in, Dick looked at the genuinely shocked expression on Bruce’s face with a scoff. “What, afraid to face the harsh truth of what you did to your son?”

Bruce wavered, looking like he needed to take a seat, though he managed to remain standing, his eyes were showing open surprise. “I don’t remember it that way.”

There was a frown of confusion on Dick’s face before he covered his face with his hand and smiled bitterly. “Of course… of course you don’t remember what I’m talking about. Your memories are probably still skewed from the amnesia. You filled in the gaps with logic which conveniently left out the details of what actually happened. And let me guess, all the cowl and cave footage of that night have mysteriously been deleted too hasn’t it?”

“…It is possible that my memory is not an accurate representation of what happened and if that is the case I apologise. I did find it strange that I could find no record of the days leading up to your departure.” Bruce answered calmly and logically.

“I’m not surprised. You probably wiped the footage the moment I left. You knew what you did had crossed a hundred different lines and you didn’t want anyone to find out that I was still alive either so you deleted everything so that even if I did come back and say the truth, all I have is my word.” Dick concluded.

“That sounds…”

“Unlike you? Yeah, knowing you and your guilt complex I’m sure you didn’t completely delete anything and kept the original records of it encrypted somewhere.” Dick glanced to something off camera, the direction of his gaze most likely lingering on the glass case, where the Jason Robin memorial still stood despite Jason’s return. “You do love to fuel your own guilt by torturing yourself with your mistakes.” He murmured “but I’m guessing at the time, you didn’t take into account the chance of you losing all your memories of where you had stored the hidden files. So congrats, I guess it’s gone for good now. How wonderfully convenient for you that you get to just block out one of the cruelest things you’ve done to me.” Dick stated blandly, his sarcasm a clear defense mechanism to try and hide his pain. The camera angle could still pick up that Dick’s hands were curled into fists by his side. Dick was trembling.”Bet you cleaned up all the bloodstains really well too. And replaced all the broken furniture. So that there was no evidence of a fight and you could tell yourself I departed on peaceful terms.”

“It seems I have done something that deeply wronged you, I apologise. If you would be willing to tell me, I would like to know what it was that truly transpired between us before you left for the mission.” Bruce told him in a calm and imploring voice that was both apologetic and sincere.

Dick let out a sigh, one that was part exhaustion, part anger, and part anguish. “Alright. Let me enlighten you so that there are no further misunderstandings. You-” and here Dick leaned in closer “-forced me to agree. No matter how many times I said I didn’t want to, no matter how much I pleaded for you to stop. You ignored me and kept going and going. There was no ‘conversation’ that took place on whether we could try to find another way, that we could at least tell those we trusted, or even have one person other than you know about it in the worst case scenario. The only talk you had with me was a conversation with your fists until you were sure I’d be leaving with new broken bones and scars to remind me that I was to follow your orders like an obedient soldier whether I wanted to or not.”

Dick’s gaze turned firery with anger as he stepped closer, ignoring Bruce’s stunned and horrified expression over his words to jab his finger against Bruce’s chest. “But I swear to god Bruce. If you try to do to any of one of my siblings what you did to me and attempt to force them to go on ANY mission that they’re uncomfortable with and don’t want to do… then we’ll be done B. I’ll walk out of your life and take my brothers with me. You said some bullshit about me surpassing you that night and ‘winning against you’ so let’s make it clear that if you hurt them I can and will make good on that and take you out. Then I will see to it that you will never see any of one us ever again.”

Bruce didn’t seem deterred by this, in fact he nodded in approval. “I would expect nothing less. But Dick, I would never do that. I would never hurt any of your siblings. ” He said immediately in a soft tone looking distressed at the very thought.

“No… of course not. You only pull this shit with me. You always have.” Dick replied bitterly, taking a step away from him.

Bruce looked pained. “While I may not accurately remember the reasoning behind many of my actions, from everything I do remember about you, I am sure the steps I took was because I knew you could handle it.” It was probably meant to be reassuring but Dick just snorted coldly.

“Sure, because fuck any trauma that leaves me with. You always expect so much of me it’s like you forget I’m actually human. I can ‘handle it’ so who cares that I’ll always remember my Dad beating me to a bloody pulp. That I can’t even be close to you now without freezing up. Don’t you get it B? I’m scared of you now! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Bruce’s face fell. “Chum… is that how you feel?”

“Don’t ‘chum’ me! What did you think was going to happen? Did you even consider the repercussions? This is going to effect us in the field now because everytime you make a sudden movement I’m bracing myself for a fucking punch like i’m one of the criminals you’re trying to apprehend!”

“I’m sorry.”

Dick snapped his gaze back towards him, locking stares with him in surprise as though Dick never actually expected Bruce to apologise. But the shock only lasted a moment, then Dick just looked drained. It’s quiet for a long moment before Dick finally replied “Sorry that I feel this way, or sorry for what you did?”

“Sorry that my actions have deeply impacted you and shaken your trust in me. I am sorry for hurting you.”

Dick closed his eyes as he gives a slow exhale. On screen he looked pale and withdrawn, but resigned.  “I love you, B. You know that. You know I’ll always love you. No matter what you do to me. And maybe you don’t mean to manipulate me, but I think you know you can get away with doing a lot more to me than you would with Jason or Tim or Damian. You treat me differently than you do with them. You always have. You exploit my love for you and my love for them and get me to do things I should never have to.”

“I don’t mean to.” Bruce replied immediately, though he didn’t refute the claim.

“…Yeah.” Dick murmured, suddenly so tired. And then after a moment, his voice got quiet, almost like he was afraid to hear the answer. “…Is that why you didn’t tell me when Dami came back alive?”

Bruce’s expression shuttered, the stoic man’s version of a wince as though knowing Dick wasn’t going to like his answer. “I thought it would compromise the mission you were on.”

Dick blinked, as if processing that Bruce really said that… and then exploded. All his words tumbling out in an emotional rush. “OF COURSE IT FUCKING WOULD! You think I wouldn’t have done anything to see my son again?! To come back? It would have at least given me some hope to hold onto when I was trapped there!”

“I know you both grew close… but he is not your son.”  His voice was level but Bruce had turned slightly, the camera unable to pick up his expression.

“He is in every way that matters!” Dick countered passionately. “When you were gone, I was the one who raised him. The one who got him to slowly come out of his shell and break out of the mold of expectation he had thrust upon himself. I was the one that held him when he cried himself to sleep. The one who promised to protect him from all his fears. I was the one who he accepted receiving sincere care from. I was the one that taught him kindness wasn’t a weakness. I was the one that got to hear him the first time he laughed uncontrollably, I was the one who got him to smile. I was the one who he hugged good morning and good night. I was the one who learnt arabic and how to cook some traditional meals for him when he felt homesick. The one who encouraged him to pursue his love of art and take up hobbies outside of the cape. Do you even know what to comfort him with when he’s sad? Or his favourite music to listen to when he’s happy? Do you know the reason behind why he loves animals so much? Do you know his goals and values? Have you even bothered to take the time to truly get to know him beyond surface level?

Because it was me who showed him that his spot in the family was never going to be taken away from him. That it wasn’t based on skill or merit or obligation. That he didn’t need to prove himself to me to earn my love. That he deserved to be Robin regardless of his past. I was the one who showed him what it meant to be loved unconditionally! Damian was my world and I loved him like he was my own. I needed him just as much as he needed me. He was a beacon of light in my sea of grief. And sometimes it felt like being there for him was the only thing keeping me together. I was going to adopt him officially you know? But then you came back and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to keep him from you. I wanted to give him the chance to get to know his real father. Because I knew you were once a great one. So once again, I sacrificed for you. I let him move back and I listened to your orders to give us distance so that you both had the chance to bond without me interfering. But then…”

Dick squeezed his eyes shut, his expression one of pure raw pain. “w-when he di-“ Dick cut himself off, unable to even get the words out despite Damian being alive now, his voice choking with held-back tears. “When we lost him… it felt like- like my heart was ripped out of my chest. Like the sun stopped existing. He died and I felt like a part of me died too.”  Dick swallowed thickly, before meeting Bruce’s eyes with a gaze full of pain as he continued. “And you knew that. You knew what he meant to me. So how could you not tell me when he came back! How could you let me think that I was still living in a world without him?”

Dick looked absolutely agonized as he continued to point out the facts. “Especially when you knew how much I was struggling there. That I felt more dead than alive. There were so many times when I truly felt like just giving up. I..I thought about how it would be easier to join Dami, and that if I did then all the pain and loneliness would stop. But if I had known that Damian came back, that he would be there waiting for me to come home, do you know how much hope that could have given me when I felt like I had nothing to hang on to?

And what about Damian? How must he have felt to come back only to find out I had left him. He’s too young to mourn another parent! Wasn’t grieving over you and dealing with his own death enough tragedy to put him through?”

Bruce was completely stony faced, but anyone who knew him knew that he only wore that expression when he was truly at a loss for words and wanted to express something emotionally but couldn’t get the words out. He had clearly been deeply affected by Dick’s words and had to clear his voice before he could speak, and even then it came out roughly. “I suppose I thought that I was doing what was best to keep everyone safe.” Bruce finally answered, his voice thick with regret and emotion.

But Bruce’s regret wasn’t enough. Not for something like this. Then again, it didn’t look like Dick had expected anything better.

“…You know, sometimes I miss the Dad you were to me. When it felt like you actually cared. When it still felt like you loved me as much as I love you.”

“I do love you. You’re my son.” Bruce stated earnestly.

But Dick just shook his head sadly. “But you would never treat your other sons this way. The hiding when someone is alive thing clearly yes you have a habit of doing that to all of us no matter how much it makes us suffer, but everything else?  No chance. You don’t ask them to cover for you or lie for you. You don’t ask them to take on all the roles that are needed in this family when you’re too occupied to do it yourself. You don’t ask any of them to give the rest of the family all the emotional support you’ve lacked over the years. And the biggest one of all; you don’t ask any of them to make sacrifices for you, and certainly not again and again. Face it, I’m the only one with those ‘special privileges.’ I’m the only one you ask those types of favours from. Except you never ask, it’s just expected of me. And maybe it comes with the territory of being the oldest, but even I have my limits.”

“We’ve all made sacrifices for the sake of the mission when innocent lives are at stake.”  Bruce said slowly in an acknowledgment of Dick’s words being right.

“B.” Dick said, so gently, his eyes sad and tone soft but pained. His own life seemed to be so easily bartered in Bruce’s mind. “The mission is important but you can’t seriously believe that’s why I do all these things. It’s because it’s for you. It’s always been for you. You ask me to do something and I do it because you’re my dad and I love you. You think this is the first time you’ve pushed me into a position where I have to put myself on the line for you? I’ve been doing it for years. But I can’t keep doing it anymore. Not after Spyral. This was the final straw. You went too far this time and while you may no longer remember it, I can’t pretend like it didn’t happen. I can’t go back to seeing you how you were.”

Bruce swallowed, seeming to finally realise that he had messed things up so badly with his eldest son that he was losing Dick. Bruce stepped closer, hesitantly moving a hand out towards him but letting it waver and drop back down by his side when Dick crossed his arms over himself.

“Tell me what you need.” It wasn’t a question, but Dick could hear the desperation in Bruce’s words all the same. 

“I’ve already told you what I need, over and over again. And yet you’re still asking me to sacrifice for you again. Can you at least understand what you are asking of me by wanting me to cover for you this time? Thanks to you I lost Jason’s trust after so painstakingly earning it back over time after he became the Red Hood. I lost Tim’s trust, after we worked so hard to resolve things when he became Red Robin. I put my love and care and effort into rebuilding the relationships that are important to me and you tore that all away from me the moment you turned my death into a lie! I tried explaining to Tim and Jason since my return but they won’t even give me a chance to hear me out because they feel so betrayed! They really think I ditched them to go play spy when I was just trying to survive the worst time of my life!”

Shaking, Dick hugged himself tighter, rocking side-to-side. “God.. Bruce you’re the only one who had contact with me and had an idea of how bad I was doing over there. I was begging you to come home, I was alone. I was breaking. And you made me stay.” His voice cracked but he kept talking, all his feelings coming out like an overflowing glass of water because for once it seemed like Bruce was actually listening to him instead of dismissing him. “-And then your memories were gone and you know I don’t blame you for that, but why was there no contingency for it? You always have a back up plan! But you just left me there on my own with no extraction plan, no one to even know I was there. I would have died there again. But this time without a single person knowing. I needed help, I needed to come home!

But instead I did what you asked of me. Mission success. But the mission is over now and yet I’m the one who’s left scrambling to pick up the pieces that are left of me. It… It tore me apart. And I’m trying to find a way to recover and you just… you didn’t even acknowledge what I put myself through for you. You didn’t even give me a thank you, you just wanted to send me back on the field like it was just another job done.

And I shouldn’t have even been surprised. Because it’s a pattern isn’t it? I do all these things for you, but I’m always the one who keeps having to pay the price for it long after the deed is done. For the sake of your mission, I’ve given you all that I have for years. And yet you’re still demanding more... Now you’re asking me to just give up on my relationships with my family and let them continue to think I betrayed them. They are the last bonds I have to keep me sane and now even that is soon to be gone. What more can you take from me? What more is there left in me to give?”

“Chum…”

Dick shook his head, determined to get everything out that he needed to say. “And the thing is I get why you keep doing this. You’re so used to me to shouldering everything on my own because I always have. I’ve been doing it my whole life; keeping the worst of the things i’ve been through to protect my siblings. And I don’t regret it, they shouldn’t need to worry about me like that. Even when it painted this unrealistic expectation of me. Everyone thinks i’m infallible because I’ve shielded everyone I care about from the horrible shit that’s happened to me during the many cases you’ve sent me on. I brush off my hurt because I never want to worry them. I never want to scare them with how many close calls I’ve endured. And I’ll keep doing that and continue to hide all my pain from them because that’s the price to pay for being the oldest. It’s what big brothers are for. To keep them safe. To make things easier on them even when it means shouldering all the blame to ease them of their burdens. Even when it means hiding when I’m breaking. Because they need that reassurance, that safety net that someone will be there to take care of them when they get in over their heads because they’re too scared to come to you and risk disappointing you or admitting to failure. But at least they know they can count on me. And I’ve been proud to be that for them. I really have. God knows how much I love them. I would always protect them. And if I can spare them any amount of pain, if I can take on their stress or shoulder some of what is weighing on them, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Dick took a deep breath. “But you know that. And you’ve been taking advantage of that. With the reasoning of ‘protection’ and of meeting your expectations of being ‘the eldest son who can handle it’, you’ve always sent me on the dangerous things. The ones I may not come back from whole. And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it was me rather than any of my siblings. I would always prefer that I’m the one who is in harms way than them. But… do you ever think of me when you send me on these insane take-downs? Why am I the only one who’s never allowed to show any weakness? That I’m never allowed to need someone to rely on too? Do you ever think of my safety as much as you do theirs? Did you think about how much these missions hurt me? That after coming back from something that destroyed me in every way I would need the support of my family to help me through the aftermath? Who do I have as my safety net if you keep encouraging me to ostracize myself from everyone else just so that all your secrets stay safe?

I know you don’t want me to tell anyone about the gruesome details of what happened to me in Spyral or any of the other confidential missions you’ve sent me on during my life. You expect a professional mission report but you don’t want to actually hear me talk about how I was affected by it. How they broke me in every way. Or of all the things they did to me and made me do because you’d rather pretend it didn’t happen. And that’s fine, I never planned on telling anyone anyway. Especially my younger brothers. I wouldn’t want them to think less of me. I wouldn’t want to scare them. But acting like it never happened doesn’t change the fact that it did. And you don’t need to know what the details are to see that I’m not doing well. I know you’d rather I bottle everything up and ignore it and just never speak of it again the way you would. Because then you’d never have to deal with what a mess I am. And I’m trying, I am. But I— B i’m only human. Im not invincible. This mission took everything out of me and now I have nothing left and it feels like I’m about to fall to pieces. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Am I Dick? Robin? Nightwing? Officer Grayson? Agent 37? Am I the good guy or the bad guy? Everything is jumbled and sometimes it feels like I’m still dead and this has all just been me living in hell!”

Dick paused for a second, chest heaving as he stared into Bruce’s stricken face.

But even with his heartbroken expression, Bruce managed to keep his voice perfectly levelled. “Are you done?”

“No I am not done!” Dick replied furiously in righteous indignation. “I’ve made sure to never be a burden to anyone and I’m certainly not about to start now. My problems are my own to deal with, not my brothers. But this time.. just this once…this is me reaching out for help. I know it makes me weak… but I’ve barely been hanging on by a thread since Damian died and I- I’m ashamed to say it but Spyral really messed me up and pushed me over the edge. I don’t think I can get through it without my brothers in my corner. Frankly when I was there, thinking about coming home to them was the only thing that kept me going every night when I wanted to blow a bullet through my brain. Please B… if you don’t want me to tell them about what happened in the cave that night I won’t. But at least let me tell them that I thought you’d tell them I was alive! Because I thought I’d at least have my family by my side when I returned instead of having to continue to be alone.” Tears streamed down Dick’s face and he belatedly wiped his cheeks with a hiccup.

“Okay Dickie, okay. I’ll fix this. I will.” Bruce implored, looking like he desperately wanted to hug Dick but not being able to breach the final step in closing the distance.

“…You can’t fix me. You were the one who broke me.” Dick reminded him in an empty tone as he pulled farther away from.

“Chum..”

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Dick snapped harshly, a burst of fury in his voice at the memory of all of Bruce’s actions. “I’m not your boy. Not anymore. Not after everything you did.”

“We’ve gotten through worse things, we can get through this too.” Bruce replied his confident tone wavering in a way that was as close to pleading as he would ever get.

Dick just laughed, tears streaming down his face as he sunk back to the floor in a semi crouch, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I don’t know if we can. I think this was too much… even for me. God, it’s just been the worst year. First my kid is taken from me and nothing else mattered anymore. Then I’m tortured by the Crime Syndicate by people who look like the ones i’m supposed to trust. Then i’m killed and unmasked. And when i’m brought back, barely alive and functioning and still haven’t even fully processed my death yet, I come to find my- my Dad who is supposed to protect me, has gone and held my funeral! Has told everyone I love that I’m dead and gone! And then you tell me I’m to go on this horrible mission, one where I’d be lying to everyone I love and care about. And I refuse and you..you hit me! Except it’s more than just one hit. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were determined to send me on this mission even if it meant sending me there in another coma.

And then I don’t even get to say goodbye to anyone… I don’t get to see them one last time. Instead I’m sent straight to Spyral and they make me- do h-horrible things. And I’m losing myself and breaking in a million pieces and I can’t stand it anymore, I’m not strong enough, I just want to come home- and I beg you to let me leave, because you’re the only one who knows how dangerous it is where I am, who knows how to get me out and there’s no other way for me to escape. But you refuse. Birdwatcher pleads and pleads for Mr Malone over and over again to let me come home, but you keep saying no and then you stop answering all together. And that’s when I think.. I think you’ve just left me there to die and suddenly the funeral makes sense. You were already planning to kill me. You abandoned me! Maybe I was never meant to pass this mission in the first place. I was just thrown away. But somehow, somehow by some miracle I actually complete the godforsaken mission because that’s what you drilled me to do. That failure was never an option and I needed to see it through even if it killed me. But when I finally make it home alive, no one is happy to see me. Everyone wishes I had just stayed dead!” While Dick’s voice had started low and toneless, it had risen with every statement until by the end he was shrieking. And then Dick burst into tears. An awful sobbing full of such deep pain it was as though he was crying from his soul as he wailed “D-Dad how could you do this to m-me?”

This time Bruce didn’t resist in pulling him into a chest and hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry, Dick I’m so sorry. I’ll make things better, I will.”

Dick just sobbed harder. But eventually he pushed against him as weakily as a kitten. “I don’t want you to do anything. You’ve done enough. I can barely stand to be in the same room as you. Just.. just leave me alone. Give me time and space. I won’t be in the field for awhile. Don’t try to contact me. Don’t try to track me or spy on me. Don’t ask me for any favours. Don’t check up on me. Just leave me be. I’ll reach out to you myself when I’m ready.”

“…Okay son. If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Dick gets up and leaves the bat cave without looking back, leaving Bruce to stare forlornly after him.

The video cuts out.

-

Chapter Text

-

When the email first came through, Tim was overworked and exhausted. He hadn’t slept in 28 hours, (Which was actually pretty good for his usual sleeping habits), he was late for a WE meeting and still hadn’t finished going over their financial reports for the next quarter, was in the middle of finishing up his report on a mission for the Teen Titans, while also adding some new details on a case he was working on for Bruce. All in all, he was completely tied up and barely spared his email a glance.

The only reason it had gotten him to pause at all was because it was strange for something encrypted to be sent to his personal email and not his work or Red Robin one. A slight chill of worry went down his spine but nothing too extreme yet. So Tim multitasked and quickly started decoding it to open the file while he simultaneously worked on replying to some messages on the side. After a few moments he thought to absently send a quick text to Oracle asking if she was behind the random email as a surprise test of his hacking skills or something like that.

When she replied back that she had no idea what he was talking about, Tim frowned but still remained calm. He was confident he could trace it back to the sender easily enough himself. That would be once he found out what exactly was on the video of course. If he was being honest he was starting to worry this was going to be some sort of ransom video, and was briefly considering messaging all his brothers to make sure none of them had been kidnapped.

It was really only the moment that the video finally opened to the inside of the cave that Tim officially froze. His phone nearly dropping out of his hand as he stared at the grainy footage on his laptop. Tim immediately closed every other open tab he had been woking on so he could give it his full attention, a million thoughts running through his head. Were they compromised? How did someone get access inside the cave!

The moment Dick came storming onto the screen, Tim smothered down a flare of cold anger for his eldest brother. Of course Dick was part of whatever this mess was. Still hurt and angry at being lied to, Tim really didn’t even want to watch whatever this was if Dick was the subject of it. It was only his cool rationality and desire to know all the facts that kept him from simply closing the screen and putting this all off till later.  Especially if Dick had messed up in some way (his mind was already conjuring up dozens of scenarios where Dick’s spy friends had somehow gotten ahold of the cave video access) and now Dick was sending this video to Tim to help him clean up his mess and find a way to get the stolen footage deleted. Typical.

Releasing a sigh, Tim watched with a stoic expression… that lasted all but 2 seconds before he was immediately sitting up, his body going tense and all the blood draining from his face the moment Dick’s voice reached his ears upon the very first sentence.

“What did he just say?”

Because surely… surely Tim had misheard…! 


(Tim hadn’t.)

-

Tim had watched and re-watched the video ten times. He had categorized every detail, had a panic attack, cried, and then continued analysing. He was freaking out. He was filled with guilt. His mind was going a mile a minute, frantically filtering through all the new information bouncing around his brain but unable to choose which thing to focus on first. Dick had really died. Dick had never wanted to lie to him. Bruce hurt him. (Tim wasn’t even ready to process that one yet.) Dick had never wanted to lie to him. Dick had never wanted to leave them. Dick had never wanted to lie to him. There was missing video footage on what happened the night Dick left. Dick had never wanted to lie to him. There had been no extraction plan to get Dick out (which was inconceivably unacceptable!) Dick had never wanted to lie to him. Dick loved him and his siblings with everything he had and was always willing to be the martyr! DICK HAD NEVER WANTED TO LIE TO HIM.

How could he have been so stupid? This was Dick! Of course Dick would have never done anything to hurt him without good reason! How could Tim not have known? And Tim had been so cold to him too… he hadn’t even tried to hear him out when he came back! Hadn’t Tim learnt from the Red Robin situation? Dick always had a reason for his actions, if he had just given him a chance to explain-! Tim choked, digging his hands in his hair. Just reminding himself of the time Dick gave Robin to Damian made Tim’s stomach twist in even more guilt. Because during that time when all signs pointed to Bruce’s death, hadn’t Tim refused to believe it? Hadn’t he done absolutely everything in his power to find the truth? And yet when Dick died Tim didn’t offer him the same determination. He never even tried to deeply look into it beyond what was shown to him. It had hurt too much, so Tim had just accepted everything at face value. This was on him… this was all on him. If he had used the same determination that he had when time came to find Bruce, Tim could have found Dick himself. He could have gotten him out. Dick was practically suicidal in Spyral and Tim should have been there for him! Been there the way Dick had always been there for Tim.

And now it had been a month since he had come home from Spyral. And yet this video was clearly taken as soon as he got back. Which meant it has been a month of Dick being completely ignored and cut off from the family during which Dick had been in a horrible place mentally and emotionally. How was he doing now? Was he okay? Was he even taking care of himself? The way he sounded in the video was bad…really bad. Extremely worrisome. And how could Dick think Tim hated him? Even at his angriest he didn’t actually want anything to happen to him! That haunting line from the video, Dick’s voice cracking with anguish and tears as he thought everyone preferred him dead-! How could Dick ever think that? Even if they were mad, they had grieved him so badly, it was a miracle he had come back!

But could Tim really be that surprised? Instead of treating his return like the gift that it was, Tim had never shown Dick that he was happy he had returned. Tim let out a wounded noise at the memory. How badly must it have hurt to finally make it home alive expecting a hug of relief, only to receive anger instead and end up thinking that no one has happy to see you? Had Tim even hugged him? Had he held Dick and told him how much he loved him and how grateful he was that he was alive after all? Tim couldn’t say that he did. Instead he had spoken to him as coldly and cuttingly as he could. He had wanted to hurt him as badly as Tim had been hurting when he was mourning him. (Because Dick had left him! He wasn’t supposed to die and leave Tim behind like that!) And when he thought Dick had lied about it, it only hurt more (Because then it meant Dick had left him purposely! Abandoned him without a word because he didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth.) And so Tim had fallen back on the skills that would have made Janet Drake proud; verbally tearing him apart with a ruthless iciness right where it would hurt him the most, and then relishing in the flinches and pained expression on Dick’s face from his harsh words as Tim shunned him. And Tim still dared to call himself a hero? More importantly, a brother?

’Oh god… What have I done?’ Tim was going to be sick. Grabbing the small trash bin under his desk, he heaved into it, choking on the taste of regurgitated coffee and energy drinks as his thoughts continued to spiral while he viciously beat himself up over his previous actions. ’I drove him away. I drove him away! I always make everyone leave’ Tim hadn’t thought about Jack and Janet for a long time, but all he could think of now was how there had to have been something about him -something wrong with him- that had made his parents want to leave him behind alone each and every time. And he could see clearly now exactly what that was. Tim was rotten. Manipulative. Selfish. It was no wonder, that they couldn’t wait to get away from him. Tim ignored the stinging in his eyes, tears spurred on by his own self-disgust and loathing, as he finished throwing up in a daze.

Because Tim may not have known how fragile and close to the edge Dick really was when he had said all those things to him, but he had still been purposefully cruel. And now… what if it had been what pushed Dick over the edge? What if Dick was going to do something? What if he had already tried to do something!

Tim knew that panicking would serve no purpose. And that in moments of crisis he had always been the one to stay level-headed, calm, and logical. But somehow knowing this was Dick made it that much harder to simply compartmentalize. Especially when there had been so much more than just a death reveal that had been said in this footage. It was as though Tim had seen a side of Dick that he had never even known existed. A look into his psyche.

The things Dick shared was raw and real and full of so much pain. Tim was sure he was never meant to see this. That Dick never would have wanted him to. And he pushed aside the fresh wave of guilt he felt over being grateful that he was able to gather the truth from this video despite the leak of privacy because he doubted he would have realised otherwise. Did that make him a horrible brother for never noticing? Tim had never even considered that Dick found things to be overwhelming too, that all the things Dick brushed off with a laugh and easy going smile might actually have been getting to him. That Dick wasn’t as flippant as he pretended to be, just hid his true feelings better.

Tim would have never known. He had always thought of Dick as someone unshakeable, unbreakable. And maybe there had been a healthy dose of hero-worship when he had been younger but after becoming Red Robin and mending their broken relationship, Tim had demanded to be looked at as an equal. So what did it say about him that he was so shaken hearing Dick’s true feelings? He felt another wave of guilt crash over him that now, with the chance to do exactly that, Tim was floundering. It was scary to see his oldest brother so close to breaking. (He had never seen Dick cry like that before and he never wanted to see it again.)

Tim had always thought that Dick could handle anything thrown his way with an ease of finesse that made him seem flawless and invulnerable. Sure he had seen him get hurt and even badly injured before, but even those times Dick was smiling or making jokes and always seemed to bounce back so easily. Tim would have never imagined that all of that may have just been a mask to hide his pain. Tim sickeningly could see that everything Dick had said about his family having a false perception of him was true… Tim had kept him on a pedestal. All this time, Tim had wrongfully assumed it was impossible for Dick to fall, and so Tim hadn’t been waiting there to catch him when he did. Dick was now paying the price for it. Tim had let him down. He had failed him when he needed him most because Tim had never seen Dick so vulnerable and emotionally wrecked like in that video footage.

Tim breathed in and out, his fingers twitching across the computer keys as he tried to calm himself down. He needed to find a way to fix this. Getting emotional and falling apart was not going to help Dick. Tim needed to... do what first exactly? Find the missing footage Bruce had mentioned so he could confront Bruce with it and catch him in more lies? Go digging in the cave files to find out how Dick had really died and uncover any other secrets that had been kept from him? Enhance the video so he could better take in every minute detail that he might have missed and cross reference it with everything he could find so he could get more context to everything Dick had been talking about? Dig into the Spyral mission to figure out what exactly had happened to Dick while he was there and find out why the hell there had been no extraction methods included in the plans? (And why the hell hadn’t Bruce thought to bring Tim in on the plan in the first place! If it was so important to execute the mission, Tim could have come up with something a million times safer for Dick!)

No… No. This wasn’t the time to be sitting around on his computer trying to be the detective. Dick needed his brother. And Tim had wasted enough time not being there for him. He needed to go to Dick right now. He needed to apologise and beg for forgiveness.

And he wasn’t the only one who needed to make ammends either. Did anyone else know about this? Did Jason? Tim wasn’t sure if Jason had received an email too but even if he hadn’t, he needed to hear what Tim had found out. Dick had said he wanted all his brothers in his corner and Tim would make damn sure to deliver. So Tim snatched his fallen phone to send Jason a frantic text. When he didn’t receive a reply back fast enough, he sent him another telling him that he really needed to talk to him. And when that went unanswered too, Tim moved straight into calling him. Jason didn’t pick up and Tim let out an internal scream. Hanging up, he forced himself to breathe. (He was so distressed over what he had seen he had completely forgotten about his original plan on reverse-hacking the sender so he could trace back who had sent him the video in the first place.)

Instead Tim busied himself by wracking his brains to desperately try and remember if Dick looked okay the last time he had seen him. It left his already empty stomach twisting when he concluded that he couldn’t remember if he had been doing well. When was the last time Tim had even seen his big brother properly? It had already been so long since he came back but Tim hadn’t bothered to reach out to him at all… He was pretty sure the last time Tim had seen Dick it was as Nightwing but Tim had not only completely ignored him at the time, but gone out of his way to avoid him!

He wished more than anything he could take it all back. Because since then, Nightwing was never on the patrol roster anymore. Never showed up when Bruce was on route (and Tim could now understand why.) There had been a few times during his first couple weeks back that Tim had caught Dick following Tim a few times as back-up until, (to his now overwhelming guilt,) Tim snapped at him to leave and had told him off in no kind terms that he had no interest in patrolling with him as a partner when he couldn’t trust him. At the time he hadn’t even cared when Dick stopped showing up to the group patrol because he had already gotten used to patrolling without him during the time he was gone…

With a groan, Tim hid his face in his hands. He had acted so heartless. But Tim could punish himself later. Right now the most important thing was talking to Dick. And this wasn’t the kind of thing that should be hashed out over the phone. He needed to meet him in person. He owed him at least that.

Still, it was hard to control the pained stab in his heart when he realised he didn’t even know where Dick lived anymore. Blüdhaven was long gone, Dick clearly wasn’t staying at the manor going off of the ending of that video, and any apartments to his name would have been resold during his death. Did that mean he didn’t even have a proper home to stay in and recuperate? Was he staying at some sort of safehouse? ’That would definitely not do!’ and before Tim was even conscious of his actions, he was looking up apartments for sale on the market that would suit Dick’s style.

When he became aware of what he was doing he let out a hysterical sounding laugh. Clearly he was both losing his mind, and incredibly desperate to make things up to Dick. He could save the house hunting for later. For now he needed to find Dick.

Tracking his coms was the first thing Tim tried, but it was clear Dick had turned them all off. (Or he tried to tell himself they were off and hadn’t been destroyed. Because what if Dick had gotten caught up in something and hadn’t thought to call for back up because he thought no one would come?!)

Normally Tim would have had a little more tact and tried to reach out to any of Dick’s friends through the teen titans first to see if they casually knew where he was, but with his fear running high, Tim went directly to Oracle and quickly contacted her through his coms.

“Hey Babs, can you track Dick?”

There was a pause, and her voice was professional as she asked “Is he in immediate danger? Is this an emergency?”

“No… I don’t think so.” Because Tim didn’t want to believe that that was as an actual possibility. Not yet.

Still, he hadn’t been expecting for her voice to go quite so cold and bitter. Not at Tim, but pointedly at Dick. “Then you can look for him yourself. He’s clearly learnt the skills in how to hide himself with deceit, and I’m busy with more important things that require my attention at the moment with the Birds of Prey. I don’t have time to spare for someone who doesn’t even want to be found.” 

Stunned, Tim recognised the cool anger radiating from her in the familiar tone Tim himself had been using whenever the subject of Dick had been brought up within the past month. Hearing it now from someone else after knowing the truth was like a slap in the face for his own past naivety. It also gave him the harsh reminder that it wasn’t just his family who had been angry and hurt by the “lie” of Dick’s death, everyone who knew Dick was probably pissed with him at the moment. With a sinking feeling, this only confirmed that Dick had been completely alone with no one to turn to if everyone was just as upset and unwilling to talk to him. That look of betrayal on Dick’s face in the video when Bruce refused to let him share the truth hit even harder now witnessing firsthand how it destroyed his relationships and the trust he had built with everyone Dick cared about.

Lost in thought, Oracle assumed he had gone quiet due to her answer and took pity on him, softening her tone just a smidge as she added “If you still can’t track him down in a bit you can let me know and I’ll look into it when I have time. But I really have to go now.”

She clicked off the call and Tim was back where he started. He didn’t waste any time though, and started trying to once again hack the trackers on the Nightwing suit despite them being off, hoping to turn the signal on remotely.

In the meantime, it was a long shot (especially since his previous texts were still unanswered) but he sent a text to Jason asking if he had any idea where Dick was staying. Exiting the chat, his finger then hovered over Dick’s name in his phone, and was saddened to see that there were no messages between them. In a fit of pettiness after Dick had come home from Spyral, Tim had cleared their entire chat history the moment he thought he had been lied to. Now all those precious memories of their chats together were gone. Feeling more horrible by the second, Tim rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t even have Dick’s new phone number… (his old one had most likely been cancelled after his death.) With no other options, Tim went down his contacts until he found one of Dick’s old untraceable burner phones on the off chance he managed to hold onto it for when he came back. Tim then spent far too long composing a message, before cowardly backspacing everything he typed and changing it to a simple and straight forward one, where he asked if he could meet him to talk. Tim hesitated before sending. Did Dick even want to talk to him? Tim certainly didn’t deserve it. He only found the courage to hit send when he reminded himself this was just to get his address. He could explain himself and apologise and make amends properly once he saw him in person.

The message stared back at him, an ‘unable to send’ alert popping up. Guess the burner phone was either off or out of the picture too. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tim exited the chat and went into the group chat instead. Not the Robin one that used to have all 4 of them in it, (after Dick’s death it had been too painful to use it and see his name in the corner), but the new one Tim, Jason and Damian had created as a support system to help each other through their grief. Tim sent a message in there incase Jason hadn’t seen his private ones, and then sat up in sudden hopefulness when he saw the youngest member of the group had briefly come online (probably upon seeing the mention of Dick’s name.) ‘Why didn’t I think of it sooner; Damian!’ If anyone would know where Dick was it was him! After all, the moment Dick came back, Damian had been the only one willing to talk to him.  But… would Damian even consider sharing that info with him now? They really didn’t talk anymore, and it brought Tim another pang that Dick wasn’t the only brother he had pushed away.

They had actually gotten quite close during the months Dick was absent, all three of them had. (Let it be known that grief can certainly bring people together.) Not only due to Dick’s passing, but with the second chance given to be a better brother when Damian was revived. And with time, effort, and patience, Damian had started to open up to him and Tim began to feel like an actual big brother to Damian for once. There had even been many nights spent cuddling and crying together; being vulnerable with one another in ways that they never would have trusted to do in front of each other before. Perhaps that was why Tim had initially felt hurt that Damian had been so willing to forgive and forget all the pain he had been in the moment Dick came back.

Damian meanwhile, couldn’t understand why Tim had gotten angry at Dick, when their wishes had been answered and Dick had returned home alive. None of the details had mattered to Damian more than that.

But Tim hadn’t seen it that way and neither did Jason. It tore a riff into the brotherly relationship they had been building, with Damian eventually growing upset and standoffish. The youngest didn’t quite fall back into his previous rude and insulting tendencies of lashing out, but in a way that was what made it even worse because at least then Tim would have known how to handle a bratty vicious Damian since he would have had plenty of practice from dealing with it before. Instead, Damian became unexpectedly distant and cold; purposely ignoring him in the exact same manner that Tim ignored Dick. (Jason received his own personally snappish Damian, once again mimicking Jason’s own actions towards Dick by throwing anything he dished out towards Dick right back at him.) The only time Damian had ever willingly spoken to either of them this month was when he was standing up for or defending Dick in some way. Damian even reverted back to calling them by their last names despite having long-since dropped that habit when they had grown close. It made his stance on the matter very clear: Damian was choosing Dick over Tim and Jason and didn’t want anything to do with them so long as they were continuing to treat their eldest poorly.

At the time it had hurt. It had made Tim feel like he hadn’t been good enough, that he had only been a stand-in brother until the person Damian actually cared about came home. (A replacement through and through yet again.) But now, Tim regretted his stubbornness. He had been looking at it all wrong, too blinded by his shock and pain to understand what was really important was that Dick was back with them. He wished he had listened to Damian and tried to see it in another way. Because Dick was the one who had unfairly suffered for it. But it was too late for regrets now. Tim could only look back at Damian with gratefulness. Thank god Dick had at least one person on his side, even if that person had been Damian.

And now after hearing the way Dick spoke about Damian in the video, it all made sense. Dick saw Damian as his own. And while he wasn’t sure whether Damian saw Dick as a fatherly or motherly stand in, (or both!) it was very clear that Damian saw Dick as a pseudo-parental figure. And with Bruce’s emotional incompetence, Tim could understand why. Damian was just a kid. He wasn’t mature like Tim had been at his age. He wasn’t able to understand Bruce’s temperament of showing care through other ways. Damian had needed someone like Dick to form an emotional bond with. Someone who could get through to him and soften all those rough, sharp edges. There was no one else but Dick who was capable of showing Damian the error in his ways during the early days, and that caring for someone wasn’t a weakness. Without Dick having been there to guide him and coax him out of the mold he had been forced into, Damian may have never been able to grow into his own person. Which was especially sad to think about considering that Tim had now been witness to the times where Damian could actually be quite sweet. To imagine all those softer sides just never being allowed to exist made him all the more thankful that Damian had received the best possible parenting through Dick.

To think that most of that bonding had happened when Damian became Robin. Looking back on it now, Tim almost wanted to laugh at himself. At the time Tim had been jealous and angry when he didn’t even have a reason to be. There had been no reason to compete with him as a younger brother because Dick didn’t even see them both the same way. It was nearly comical, how wrong Tim had been. How he hadn’t clearly seen what was right in front of him. Dick had been Batman and Damian was Robin. Wasn’t every Robin the son to the Batman? How could they not end up fostering a special connection? It didn’t make Tim feel less than. In fact it made Tim feel more confident that Damian could have that role all to himself. After all, Tim didn’t want Dick to see him as his son. He wanted Dick to see him as his brother. Someone who Dick could count on. (Clearly Tim had already screwed that up but that was exactly why he wouldn’t rest until he made it up to him!)

So with his fingers practically flying over the keys, Tim sent a private message to Damian:

I need to talk to Dick. It’s important. Do you know where he is?

Tim was already tracking Damian’s phone location by the time Damian’s dry reply came in:

No.

‘Liar.’ Thought Tim as he got the location of an unfamiliar safe house Damian was currently at. Not recognising it and with Damian having no reason to be there and not at the manor, it was simple to conclude that Damian was probably with Dick right now! Grabbing his keys, Tim was already out the door.

‘Dick, I’m coming!’ Tim thought to himself with determination. Because now it was Tim’s turn to be the strong reliable brother to Dick. He would make up for his mistakes and prove himself so that Dick knew he could still be someone dependable to him. That Tim would stand by him. That Dick would have Tim as part of his support system just like he should have been doing all along.

’I’m sorry it took me so long to believe you but I promise I’ll never push you away again. Just give me one more chance to be there for you…’

-

Chapter Text

-

Jason isn’t one to check his emails.

If someone wanted to get in touch with the Red Hood, either there’ll be word of it on the streets which will eventually get back to him, or they’ll tell it directly to one of his underlings who will then report it to him personally.

If someone wanted to get in touch with Jason… well tough luck, because he only used burner phones and switched them out every 3 months. On the plus side that meant that only the select people he actually gave a damn about would receive a text from him informing them of his new number each time. This kept any annoyances away from bugging him. Jason found this system worked perfectly for him.

…Unless of course, you were his nosey family in which case they usually always figured out his new number somehow regardless. The first few times it happened and Tim messaged him out of the blue, Jason threw a fit. But it kept happening, and eventually it was easier to just let him have his number. And somehow he never stopped giving it to him. Eventually Tim was added to the roster of people who always had his new number too. (…Jason hadn’t actually hated it half as much as he pretended to.)

After all, Tim never abused the privileges. He rarely sent him a message, if at all.

But that all changed after Dick’s death.

Jason wasn’t pleased about admitting it, but their relationship completely shifted. Even Jason’s own self-proclaimed role in the family changed. Dick was irrevocably the glue that was holding their broken family together. Without him there, that missing piece was felt evermore and everything started to fall apart. Jason was forced to realise pretty quickly just how much Dick was constantly doing for the family. It surprised him that it was a lot more than just his sunny presence. Dick was constantly doing things in the background to keep everyone afloat without receiving even an ounce of acknowledgement or recognition. It was only once he was gone and Jason was forced to step up and take the reigns as the new eldest did he see just how much pressure had to have been on Dick’s shoulders the entire time. It was a wonder whether he had had any time to take care of himself with the way he was constantly looking out for everyone else. It went without saying that those were some pretty big shoes to fill. Jason wasn’t Dick. Could never be as good as him at wrangling the family or consoling them. So he didn’t try to be. But he did do the best that he could as Jason.

And suddenly he went from being the Black Sheep of the family, to the person everyone was looking towards for the strength to keep going. Bound by grief and with the heaviness that weighed on them knowing they were the only brothers they had left, Jason let himself be there for Tim. And in return had someone who he could judgelessly confide in too. (The time when Jason had once wanted Tim gone now felt so far away.)

When Damian came back, that closeness between Jason and Tim surprisingly continued to grow, now expanded to include the youngest. Jason had held Damian while he sobbed. Tim had been there to soothe his nightmares. The three of them held each other up as they reeled from the devastating loss of Dick. (And while privately Jason knew he was taking on double the responsibilities of Tim and Damian to fill in the giant hole in their lives that Dick had left behind,) it was an unspoken but unanimous decision that they all wanted to be better brothers to each other in a way that could honour Dick and make him proud. Especially considering they knew that his family was what had been most important to Dick. It would have made him happy to know that they were all making an effort to get along after his passing. So they had dropped the insulting nicknames, switching to more fond teasing ones instead. Jason had stopped calling Tim, Replacement. Tim had stopped calling Damian, Demon Brat. Damian had stopped calling Tim, Pretender. (On occasion, when Damian was feeling extra affectionate, Damian would even refer to Jason as Akhi)

…Not that he was doing much of that anymore ever since Dick made his reappearance back in their lives. And yeah, it might have stung more than Jason was willing to admit to have Damian so easily throw all their bonding back in his face now that his actual favourite brother had returned. (But Jason also wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the way Damian and Dick interacted in the past, had even been there to listen to Damian’s tearful confessions at his grave while he mourned over him. All this to say that Jason figured out pretty early on that the kid saw Dick as his fatherly figure even more than he thought of Bruce as one, so it wasn’t like Jason was surprised by Damian’s actions when Dick came back.) Really it hadn’t hurt nearly as much as it did to have Dick waltz back into their lives from a mission he had been radio silent on all this time. As though all their grief had been nothing but a game- their feelings a necessary sacrifice to justify his precious mission. No wonder he was able to go undercover as a spy so easily… he could clearly play the part of a coldhearted snake better than Jason could have ever believed.

Jason shook his head to dispel the feeling of Green creeping up on him by the reminder of the betrayal. Just like he ignored the part of himself that whispered he was a hypocrite when he had hidden it when he first come back alive too. Because the difference was that at least he had actually fucking died. It hadn’t just been a goddamn cover story! He never thought Dick would be so cruel as to use that as an excuse when he knew how much of a touchy subject dying was to Jason.

The thing was, trying to be the responsible, caring older brother these past months had been exhausting. He couldn’t imagine doing it for years. So Jason gets it, he does. For awhile there he even had a newfound respect for Dick. So if this was about Dick simply wanting to leave; if he wanted to fake his death to the public and run off to get away from everything, Jason would have understood. He would have even helped him do it! But it’s the fact that he didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t let anyone know he was okay when his brothers were here broken hearted and grieving for him. And of course Dick would have the most noble golden boy excuse for doing it too, as though that magically made everything alright. Because of course it wasn’t to run away from them, it had been to protect them, to keep them safe. Fine. Great. But why the hell couldn’t Dick have just told them that?! Why couldn’t he have trusted them with the truth instead of just letting them suffer thinking he was gone? And honestly? Screw everyone else- if he wanted to keep it a secret from the baby birds because he felt like they were too young to handle the pressure or whatever misplaced reason it was- okay, whatever. But to put Jason in the same category as Tim and Damian and keep it a secret from Jason too? He thought.. he thought they were closer than that. He thought Dick actually trusted him with his life the way Jason trusted his with Dick. He thought all those quiet vulnerable moments they had shared together had actually meant something.

With a growl, Jason ignored the Green once again floating in the edge of his vision to digress. The main point was that while he had refused to reach out to Dick since he had shown back up and hadn’t even given him his new burner phone number, waking up to a random text from Tim on the other hand was no longer the rarity it used to be.

So when Jason’s phone vibrated on his nightstand from receiving a message and chirped with the custom sound he had set it to whenever something came in from Tim, Jason may have sighed in annoyance at being woken up early after having such a long night, but he couldn’t bring himself to ignore it either.

Squinting his eyes against the glare of the phone light when he was still half-asleep, he read as far as something about an email, when the next text came in. Sensing the frantic energy that usually came from a very sleep-deprived and overly caffeinated Tim, Jason silenced his phone with another sigh before it would start ringing. Yet another ‘brotherly duty’ that Jason had taken over from Dick had been to make sure Tim actually slept. And Jason learnt from experience that replying or encouraging whatever thoughts that were running through Tim’s brain right now would only get him more worked up and then he’ll never fall asleep. Tim needed to wind down, not spiral into a tizzy over explaining to Jason whatever crazy theory had gotten him all jittery and riled up right now.

Jason did do a quick track on Tim’s phone location first, (just incase he was actually in any trouble) but he felt calmer seeing that Tim was safe at Titans Tower so he ruled out Tim being in any sort of immediate danger and figured he had been right with his previous assumption of this being one of his usual sleepless-fueled rants. In fact Jason was tempted to text back a ‘go to sleep.’ except he knew it would just cause Tim to refuse out of spite.

Tim’s message had come across a little distressed though, so the least Jason could do was actually look into this mysterious email Tim was acting so alarmed about on the off chance it was actually something important. A quick check on his phone brought up the email in question, and Jason groaned when he saw it was encrypted and he wouldn’t be able to open it without his laptop. ‘Really Tim? You want me to test your coding skills to see how much your hacking has improved or something? Couldn’t this have waited till it wasn’t ass-o’clock?’

Knowing that meant he actually had to get up now, Jason ambled out of bed (so much for his plans on sleeping in!) and headed to his living room where he had left his laptop on the coffee table. He briefly contemplated making breakfast first before cracking Tim’s email, but if this was some sort of challenge and Tim was timing Jason or something ridiculous like that, he was all too willing to put Tim in his place. All the bats had been trained in decoding after all and if Tim thought Jason was rusty, then he’d be surprised by what Red Hood has had to do in the past when it came to stealing information from the other crime lords.

So lazily pulling up his email again, it took no time at all before the email was decrypted and the video was loaded and ready to hit play.

Doing exactly that and half expecting the video to start playing some sort of joke or meme, Jason wasn’t surprised when the inside of the cave came into view instead. Still under the impression that this was an elaborate prank from Tim, he waited for the punch-line to drop. Waited for some sort of embarrassing blackmail worthy scene to show up on screen that Tim had secretly captured on camera and wanted to tease him over.

That was not what happened.

Instead Dick showed up, looking worse for wear and practically radiating despair, and Jason (despite any lingering feelings of anger towards him) immediately sat up in concern.

It took only one sentence from him for Jason’s vision to tinge green and his world to come to a screeching halt.

‘Dickie…?’

-

The Lazarus Pit isn’t sentient, but Jason could feel it humming sometimes, a promise of power simmering just underneath his skin. He called it Green; not that it deserved a name. But he needed to classify it as something more than just Pit Madness. Because Jason could understand it better now. And one of the first things he learnt once he got a better hold over it, was that it was something that went far beyond frenzied homicidal rage. The Green in his mind was something far more complex than just appearing whenever adrenaline or panicked fear drew near. No, it was more accurate to say that Green felt like a siren song coursing through his veins. Beckoning him to the edge to give into his darkest desires. The thoughts he kept at bay; the hidden feelings locked up deep. Green wasn’t temptation, it wasn’t darkness, it wasn’t even evil. It is the actions that every person is capable of making if pushed far enough. Amplified.

Green was born from what Jason had always harboured within himself, but could only be unlocked after death. And while everyone assumed the trigger for it was anger, it was not. Anger was just a byproduct. A familiar feeling to fall back in when Green overtook him. But Green had always been triggered by his need for vengeance more than a rampage. Sometimes that meant justice (of the permanent variety.) But other times it was avengement. It was reprisal and retaliation. And most importantly, Green was absolution. Once Jason let the Green in, there was no going back till he had satisfied that carnal desire flaming within him. It didn’t mean he was a mindless zombie, it didn’t mean he couldn’t stop when he wanted to, that he wasn’t able to bring himself back from the brink… he could. Eventually. But not until Green felt that curl of satisfaction that the sought out retribution it had been called out for had been fulfilled in some way. That all those wrath-filled feelings of injustice and devastation had been quelled.

If that didn’t happen, the Green wouldn’t calm. Green saw nothing but the want for it’s desire. It cared not for the means to get it. If that meant pain and death and destruction, then so be it. If it meant Jason himself was the one who would suffer the repercussions when he awoke from the haze, Green didn’t care about that either. So long as Jason was still alive, Green would numb the agony his body and mind was being put through to complete what it needed Jason to do, it’s focus single-driven determination to see it through to the end.

Needless to say, it was not something Jason liked to lose control over. Not when he couldn’t be sure what he’d be waking up to once the Green had cleared away and retreated back into the far recesses of his mind.

But despite knowing all this, it was getting increasingly hard not to give in and let the Green completely take over the more he watched the cave footage from the email play out.

Already several times he had needed to stop and breathe through the roaring feeling of Green clawing through his chest and threatening to take over his vision, his hands shaking so hard he could barely hit the pause button.

It was that first truth Dick revealed that truly shook him to his core. Because for all Jason hated Dick for lying about something as insensitive as dying to Jason of all people who did die- it was still better than the alternative. It was still a thousand times better than it meaning Dick really died.

But apparently he had. His brother. Dead.

And hearing that confirmed from Dick’s own lips… it was enough for Jason to already begin to lose himself.

Because his brother was never supposed to die. And suddenly it was if all the grief that had been pouring out of him that first week after Dick’s funeral came slamming back to the surface like a tidal wave, drowning him the way the Lazaurs pit once had.

Someone was screaming. Was it Jason? Or was it the echoing screams of memories that was ripping through his head.

In an instant, Jason wasn’t in the room anymore. He was lying in that warehouse, his bones broken, his body battered. He was in agony, the most pain of his life, his body growing cold as he bled out slowly. But it wasn’t the pain or fear that was the worst part. It was the hopelessness. When his pleads for Batman to come save him finally tapered out as the countdown ticked down to the final seconds and Jason understood that no one was coming for him. It was his final moment of anguish that he was truly about to die before the heated blast of the explosion got to him.

Jason had died. Jason was dead. Jason was waking up alone in a coffin.

And now Dick had died too.

Had Dick felt that same hopelessness? Had he been in pain? In fear? Had he woken up confused and remembering his last moments of being alive before it all stopped?

Jason clutched his head in pain as another memory of being forced back alive clawed through his mind until he felt like he was drowning in that damn pit all over again. Choking on it. The pit water going down his nose, down his lungs, pouring out of his eyes like tears. At the time, Jason didn’t know where the lazarus water ended and he began. If he cut himself would he bleed red or green?

It had been torture. It had been agony. And Jason remembered wondering if being alive was even worth it. It wasn’t like Jason had been given a choice to choose.

’Did Dick get a choice?’  It was why Jason hadn’t ever tried to dig up his brother’s body and take him to the pit himself the moment they held the funeral. If Dick had been laid to rest and was finally at peace did Jason have any right to selfishly disturb that just because he wanted his brother back? Was he truly willing to condemn him to a lifetime of Green?

It was an argument that he, Tim, and later Damian, had talked about at length. If Jason was being honest, there were many desperate low moments when they all agreed they would do whatever it took to bring him back. He had died too young and too soon after all. It wasn’t fair that he was already gone… he deserved to continue to live! It was only Bruce who stopped them. Bruce, who had read Dick’s will aloud which specifically and personally stated that Dick requested to not be revived by the Lazarus Pit. It was only upon hearing those words did they in the end, decide to respect Dick’s wishes on it.

But now Jason knew better. It had all been a cleverly constructed lie along with everything else. That entire Will had probably been fake. None of Dick’s so called “wishes” and “last words” were true. Bruce had just needed them to not snoop around the body and find out it wasn’t really Dick. That Dick was alive somewhere.

Jason should have realised something had been amiss when he first read the report. But he had been too caught up in his own grief to notice anything being hidden. Just the knowledge that he had been played so badly, sent the world glowing an even brighter vivid shade that Jason fought to wrestle back under control as the video continued.

But hearing what Dick had to say about his own demise didn’t make his fight against the Green any easier.

Because Dick dared to try and invalidate his own death by saying it wasn’t for that long? Why the fuck did he think that mattered? The amount of time didn’t make a difference. Dead is Dead! Dick may have tried to brush it off as it not being a big deal in the video but Jason knew better. Knew the kind of toll that took on a person. Jason should have been there for his brother the very second Dick opened his eyes. He was the one person who could have understood what he was going through. He could have helped him through it. He could have… he should have.

It made it even worse knowing that Dick hadn’t just died… he had been murdered. And that part had been covered up. Whatever part Lex Luthor had to play had been edited out of what Jason remembered seeing. They had all watched the footage of what had taken place when they were told Dickie was gone. Tim and Jason all but demanding to see it with their own eyes the moment they heard the news when they were deep in denial and disbelief and refusing to accept it. It wasn’t just the devastating sound of the heart monitor ringing out that Dick’s heart had ceased beating that had convinced him of his death, it was what had happened before then. Because even now, Jason could never forget the look on Dick’s face. The panic, the pain, the fear. Jason knew it all intimately too well. It was probably a near mirror of his own expressions that fateful day with the Joker, and it was exactly why he had finally believed that Dick had truly died in the first place. Because no one could fake something like that.

So how could Jason have just dismissed all the proof that had been staring him in the face and let himself think otherwise the moment Dick had showed back up? That night Dick reappeared to show himself, there had been no green in Dick’s tired blue eyes, which meant no Lazarus Pit involvement. In Jason’s anger-fueled brain filled with betrayal, he had mistakenly took that to mean that Dick had never died. Now Jason understood better: Sometime after the footage ended of Dick’s heartbeat stopping, Dick had somehow been revived.

And no one had told anyone about it.

Jason clenched his fists at the thought of Dick going through it alone. Their relationship upon Jason’s reveal had certainly taken time to evolve from it’s rocky start, but things had gotten better. And while it had taken awhile to get there, at some point Jason had finally felt like he had that brotherly relationship with Dick that the younger version of himself pre-joker had always wanted, except it was even better because he was finally old enough to actually be there beside Dick instead of following after him in his shadow. The bond they had developed had Jason feeling less like another younger sibling Dick had to sheild things from, and more like someone Dick could actually lean on when he was in trouble. To the point where before Dick’s death, Jason would even privately admit they were close. Close enough to make dumb jokes to each other, to crash at each other’s safe houses and patch each other up. Close enough to know that if either of them needed unexpected back up they could count on the other to show up. And if either of them needed someone to talk to; when the nightmares hit or everything got to be too much, they could call. They had each other’s backs. (So why hadn’t Jason had Dick’s back on this? How could he not have been there when Dick was always there for Jason?)

One memory in particular stood out to him even now, one that Jason would never be able to forget. It was during one of those times when he was having a really bad night. When the Joker’s mocking laughter of hysteria was still ringing manically in his ears. It was a flashback kind of night when he could still taste the crumbling texture of fallen dirt on his tongue, when his fingers ached, the phantom feeling of his nails cracking and throbbing from digging himself out. When the suffocating feeling of being confined in a coffin among the scuttle of bugs crawled over him. When Jason’s chest felt tight, like he couldn’t get a proper breath in because there wasn’t enough air around him. It was one of those nights when Jason felt as empty as a ghost. When he wondered if he was truly alive, or if he was still dead, just moving on stolen time which at any second, would cause his body to just going to give out like he had never awoken in the first place... and then he’d be right back in that coffin.

Jason had been panicking and spiraling and desperately needed something to ground him to the present. Needed some way to prove he was real- that he was still alive.

And then Dick had shown up. Just landed on the roof like he was Jason’s personal saviour. And without even thinking about it or questioning him, or judging him, Dick had been there for Jason in the purest and simplest form. He had quietly taken a seat beside him, (immediately understanding that Jason wasn’t in the mood to talk and that he just needed someone to stay with him,) and then he silently reached out for Jason’s hand. With Dick squeezing it tightly and not letting it go, feeling the warmth of another person in a tight grip was exactly what Jason had needed to feel anchored and somehow Dick had understood that before Jason even figured it out.

Dick didn’t make fun of him, didn’t ask him to explain what was wrong, or comment on the tear tracks on Jason’s face. He didn’t try to force a hug on him as though he could just tell that feeling trapped or confined was the last thing Jason wanted. Dick even put up with all of Jason’s mumbled threats of murder if he told anyone about the hand holding. Dick simply stayed on the roof with Jason for hours, letting Jason rest his head on his shoulder until the last of his tears dried while holding hands with him tightly until Jason felt grounded. And even then, Dick didn’t let go.

Because when it came down to it, Dick would never let any of them go. He would always be there for him. Stand up for them. Be on their side.

Dick deserved the same in return. Jason should have been there for him when Dick was in such a vulnerable position just like all the times Dick had been there for Jason.

It only made Jason all the more ashamed of his actions towards his treatment to Dick upon his return this past month. Because it didn’t really matter when or how Dick had been brought back to life and come home, all that mattered was that he was back with them, alive. Jason had acted so entitled to know why Dick didn’t let anyone know he was still among the living all this time when he should have known better than anyone what it was like wanting to keep things private until he was ready. Dick might have even been expecting for Jason to be the one person to understand, to be on his side. And Jason blew it.

(The flickering Green flames in his head was starting to get stronger)

All this time, Jason had been lashing out at Dick because Jason felt hurt, when maybe it was just karma for being an asshole during his own return to Gotham. After all, back then during Jason’s first return, he hadn’t cared how much it hurt for Dick to find out Jason was alive yet never reached out during all that time. In fact Jason didn’t even have the pretty excuse of having to be undercover like Dick did, on the contrary Jason had actually wanted it to cause him pain. He had relished in the fact that while Dick was supposedly miserable over his death, Jason was already running around Crime Alley as the Red Hood. Dick had always sworn how badly he had mourned Jason for the years he was gone, and Jason had never believed it. But now… Jason got a taste of his own shitty medicine.

It put things into perspective and made him regret his actions. It made him wish he had tried to contact Dick first, even if things had been so messed up with Bruce at the time. …and it made Jason question whether his own past actions was the real reason Dick waited so long to let him in on the truth. Because it was payback. Jason hadn’t trusted Dick back then to tell him he was alive, so Dick didn’t trust Jason to do the same.

Or at least, that was what Jason assumed before the the video continued to play and Jason was all but slapped in the face with the knowledge that Dick would never be that petty. He would never hold a grudge like that. No, Dick had wanted to tell Jason about it from the very beginning. It turned out he had never meant to hide his undemise from him at all.

Of fucking course it was Bruce who was the reason this was kept from him! Who else could it have been? Jason should have known! He should have known that Dick with his damn selfless heart may have been willing to sacrifice himself to keep the family safe, but there was no way he would have purposely hurt everyone by not letting them know what was going on.

(More Green. He was starting to choke on it.)

Every time Jason thought what he was watching couldn’t get any worse, it did. And Dick had to go breaking his heart all over again, had to go shattering any sense of calm and foil his attempts at reigning in the Green threatening to consume him. The more he listened, the more Jason was rapidly losing control.

And the icing on the cake; Dick came back to life only for Bruce to send him to his death on a suicide mission. ’God fucking damn it! Was it even a mission Dick wanted to do?’ Jason thought to himself with a yell.

….Jason got his answer as the video continued. And the truth was worse than he could have ever imagined.

When Jason heard what Bruce had done to force Dick into accepting the mission to infiltrate Spyral, Jason was so shocked, that for a moment he couldn’t stop it when the Green took over. It was Green pouring down his throat. It was Green circulating through his lungs. It was Green in his eyes as he wanted to watch the world burn.

And Jason was once again ripped out of reality and thrown back into his mind. He was a child huddled on the ground and too beaten to move, sobbing pleads as Willis smashed his fists unrelentingly into his too tiny body. He remembered just wanting it to stop. (It never did.)

The sickening realisation that Dick had had to go through his own messed up version of that was enough to cleave Jason’s heart in two.

Jason could picture it too easily. Bruce hovering over a crouched Dick the way Willis would loom over a cowering Jason.

“No… NO!” Jason roared.  (Distantly, he thinks he could feel himself trashing his apartment. It was certainly his cellphone that just went hurtling towards the wall until it cracked to pieces.) Jason wasn’t sure how long he let off steam for, but the world was still tinted green and muted around him as the damning video continued to play innocently on his laptop; somehow still remaining upright despite his coffee table now split in half.

But Jason didn’t care about that. All he could hear was the pounding in his heart as he stood still and gasped for breath. Jason was trembling. He felt nauseous. He didn’t want it to be true. Bruce was supposed to be better than that. He wasn’t supposed to act like another abusive asshole father like his old man. He wasn’t supposed to ever try and hurt him outside of a spar. But then Jason almost wanted to laugh at such a naive thought. Because that ship had long since sailed and he still bore the scar from the batarang to prove it. Bruce- no, it was never Bruce during those moments but Batman. And Batman would always be willing to go as far as he deemed necessary to get the results he wanted, so long as he could justify it with own twisted sense of morals towards his mission. ’We’ve always been just soldiers to him.’

But why couldn’t Batman have just kept any violence to Jason alone? To take it out on Dick who was the best of all of them… it was un-fucking-acceptable.

Dick who was too trusting. Too forgiving. Always a goddamn martyr. Always willing to selflessly sacrifice for the ones he loved. He was compassionate. He was dedicated. He was genuinely kind even to those (like Jason) who didn’t deserve it. And he never gave up on anyone. He was a hero through and through. He didn’t deserve for the family who was supposed to have his back to turn on him like they did. (Like Jason did.) He didn’t deserve to have been blindsided by Batman and forced into taking a mission he didn’t fucking want! He didn’t deserve to be ignored when he actually found the courage to stick up for himself and draw a fucking boundary! He didn’t deserve to be hurt by the man who was supposed to be their Dad.

…and he didn’t deserve to be hurt by his brother either.

Jason gave a pained cry as he fell to his knees. The shame and guilt physically incapitacing him for a moment as he remembered that he had acted just as bad as the monster he was painting Bruce to be. Because that night Dick came back, just for a second, one single split second- the feeling of shocked betrayal had been too strong, and Green had been too powerful to resist flowing over him. Jason remembered giving in to it just long enough to send a punch flying towards Dick’s face. The same punch that left the lingering painful bruise on the side of Dick’s jaw in the entirety of the video. God, Jason hadn’t done anything this unforgiving since going full Green on Timmy. Had Jason become like Willis now; the monster he had always feared? Or had he become like Batman; inflicting punishment so self-righteously without first learning all the facts? Jason was a goddamn hypocrite. He had impulsively acted in every way he hated.

(The anguish kept building, Green crooned at him that it would fix everything, coaxing his mind to withdraw into itself. As though to tell himself he didn’t need to think right now. He didn’t need to feel bad over this. He could just give in. …Jason didn’t let it. Not yet. Not until he was done agonizing over what he did.)

Because he fucked up. Jason fucked UP. It had taken a long time to wrestle with what he had done to Tim when the Pit was burning through his soul during his first return. But now? After all this time, Jason should have been better. He had no excuse for not being strong enough to resist Green. And now Jason would have to live with the fact that he hurt Dick, who had already been hurting so badly, for the rest of his life.

The worst part was that Dick hadn’t even done anything to defend himself. He had just taken it. As though he expected physical violence towards him as an acceptable form of expression. ‘Fuck… FUCK!’ Jason thought to himself in concern. ‘How badly has Bruce screwed him up for him to act this way?’

Out of all of his brothers, his relationship with Dick had always been something special. Jason had been Dick’s first brother. Which meant Jason had seen the imperfect sides of Dick when everyone else only got the smiley perfect brother version of him. (Jason used to resent it, but later it became something he felt proud about. That Dick didn’t need to pretend with him. That he didn’t need to hide his frustrations or his anger with a painted forced smile because Jason had already seen it all.)

But clearly, Jason hadn’t seen as much as he thought he did. Of course he knew that while Dick wore his heart on his sleeve, his thoughts were always hidden behind mask after mask. Dick always kept his own problems buried, his stress and hurt covered with a gentle expression. It had made things frustrating and Jason remembered yelling at him on more than one occasion that Dick didn’t need to act so fake around him. He had already seen him when he was tired or in a bad mood so he didn’t need to smile around him if he didn’t want to.

Foolishly, Jason had never stopped to think just what Dick had been so determined to hide from everyone including Jason himself.

Now Jason couldn’t help but wonder whether something like this had happened before. Jason thought he had been doing a decent job of shouldering some of Dick’s burdens when they had hung out, but now he questioned whether all this time had Jason just been another younger sibling to protect in Dick’s eyes.

Jason almost wanted to scream at Dick, wanted to tell him that he was an idiot for hiding his pain for so long. That it was one thing to want to keep things from Damian or Tim, but him and Dick were supposed to have had a different relationship. That Dick wasn’t supposed to keep this sort of shit from him. That Jason was someone who would never judge him.

Had Jason failed Dick so badly that he had been blind to his suffering? How much had Dick truly been keeping from him all along? How many missions had he been forced to partake in? When Jason had been sneering and calling him ‘Goldie’ how much must that dig have hurt Dick when Bruce’s treatment of the ‘Golden Boy’ was nothing like Jason had assumed?

Jason didn’t have any answers. In fact by the time the video reached it’s depressing end, it only left him with more questions. And as much as Jason valiantly tried to keep the Green at bay, it was hearing that heartbreaking confession that Dick felt scared of Bruce now and was having to containing a flinch from him that finally pushed Jason over the edge.

He couldn’t do it anymore. No amount of deep meditative breathing was going to rein in the fury pulsing through him. Jason was imploding from holding back. The world twisted and turned unsteadily, his muscles were tensed and screeching, his mind shrieking for vengance, Jason wasn’t even sure if he was even breathing anymore or simply holding his breath.

All he could feel was Green, thick like tar, coating him inside and out in pure unfiltered wrath. It was the same type of hatred he remembered when he stepped out dripping wet from the Lazarus Pit and remembered his last moments of his death. Except this wasn’t formed from Jason cursing the cruel world who had it out for him. This was all coming from Jason’s heart.

Because Jason cared. So much. More than anyone knew, more than anyone could understand. He cared for this damn dirty city of Gotham. He cared about Crime Alley, and all the people in it who were usually overlooked. He (loathe he were to admit it,) cared about his family. Because if he didn’t, he would have given up on it. On them. On everything. And most importantly, he cared for his stupid, idiotic bother who for once in his entire life had actually asked for help. (Because that’s exactly what Jason picked up from the footage.)

Jason may have missed being there the first time, but this time… this time he wasn’t about to let him down. Just like he wasn’t about to let a single person who hurt Dick get away with it.

A low, near inhuman growl tore through his lips as Green amplified Jason’s deep desire to protect and intensified it into something feral.

Green for his brother who had been lied to and manipulated.

Green for his brother who had been hurt by those who were supposed to protect him.

Green for his brother who had been murdered and brought back to life.

Green Green Green, until Jason could see nothing else, hear nothing else, feel nothing else. Green was a promise of strength, a promise of power. It promised to make all the pain disappear so that all Jason had to focus on was accomplishing his goal. Just for a little while, it would exchange his pain into anger instead. And Jason couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. Green was once a foreign enemy in his body, but now it felt like a visit from an old friend. Jason embraced it. If it meant he could protect someone precious to him. If it meant, he would avenge what happened to Dick. So Jason let the green mist curl around his brain until his mind was a fog. Let it’s constant humming go from ShockBetrayalFury to SorrowAngerProtect and finally settle into the comfortingly familiar RageRageRage.

Jason stopped thinking about anything else after that for awhile.

-

Sometimes Green was nothing more than a quiet whisper of motivation at the back of his brain, encouraging him to hit a little harder, move a little faster, have laser focus on whatever the subject of his attention was. But other times, depending on how far gone he was, it gave so much more.

This was one of those times.

The world had long since gone muted around him. Sounds became muffled, and time felt like it both slowed down yet sped up. The colours of the world all blended into one blindingly bright shade of Green, and Jason knew his eyes were currently glowing from it. Pain didn’t exist anymore. Not the emotional, nor the physical. All of it faded into the background. In other words, it felt exactly like being dunked back inside the waters of the Lazarus Pit.

Jason didn’t need to think about anything outside of his goal; his body simply moved in sync with his single-focused determination to see things through, pumping with every continuous beat of RageRageRage in his heart.

And when time came to fight, his league training kicked in like muscle memory.

Jason’s awareness came to him in blinks.

He blinked, and he was standing outside the manor. His throat was raw as though he had been shouting at the top of his lungs, his knuckles were a complete mess, battered and bruised with the skin burst open from brute force. They were dripping in blood but there was too much of it to be solely his own.

It was somewhat satisfying, knowing the person who beat up his brother now understood what Dick must have felt. But it still wasn’t enough to completely come back to himself. Green wasn’t finished with him yet.

Still, Jason allowed himself a moment of pride of soon being able to tell Dick that he’ll never let Bruce lay a hand on him again. In fact he’ll never let Bruce get within one inch of him! And the only reason Jason hadn’t gone ahead and killed him was because it would have made Dick sad (the rest of that video had said as much.) But even so, Jason is deadly serious when he says that he will keep Dick safe. As far as Jason is concerned NO ONE will fucking bother Dick again! And if anyone dares to try… well they can go through the Red Hood first.

Which reminded him… his intentions wasn’t over. Revenge had not yet been completed. There was someone else who still needed to be taken care of. Jason grit his teeth as a new wave of intensified Rage washed over him. His consciousness faded back into the Green.

Jason blinked, and he was breaking every single speeding limit on his bike, the air roaring around him as he sped towards Metropolis city.

He blinked again, and he was storming towards Lex Luthor’s headquarters. There was no time to consider whether it was a bad idea to go in without a plan, Green was already boiling his blood in BloodthirstyProtectWrath, and Jason could think of nothing else.

He blinked, and there were multiple armed men with weapons pointed towards his direction up in the ceiling vents. But Green didn’t let him flinch, didn’t let him even spare any attention to it. Because his own gun was angled for the perfect trajectory to hit the center of Lex Luthor’s heart. And Jason knew he was so far gone into the Green that his own death wouldn’t even matter right now. Not so long as he completed his goal to make this man PAY.

His finger twitched on the trigger, but a sliver of rationality slipped through before the trigger could be pulled and give away his position, just enough to remind himself that if he was too reckless and died here and now, then who would be there to protect Dick from any more assholes in the future? Green wasn’t happy about that revelation, it wanted Lex Luthor’s blood, pain, and regret at any and all costs… But all that meant was that Jason would kill the man who killed his brother and find a way to get out of this alive. He would do both without compromising one for the other.

After all, all Jason had wanted was for someone to kill his killer. What kind of hypocrite would he be if he didn’t offer the same courtesy to the only member of his family who had actually given enough of a damn about him to try to take out the Joker?

The man in front of him now was no crazy psychopath… but he had still been the one who stared into Dick’s scared eyes as the light dimmed… How had he felt knowing he was holding Dick’s precious life in his hands? How fucking dare he make the choice he made to save his own skin. Dick’s life was worth a million of Lex Luthors! There was no fucking comparison!

‘YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!’ Jason might have shouted. Or maybe it was that every single cell in his body was shouting it inside of him instead. Either way, Jason was not going to let his brother’s murderer get away with it. He wanted to tear the man apart.

Jason wouldn’t put it past this paranoid bastard from wearing something bullet proof or having contingency plans to prevent his death. (At least he was dressed as a civilian at the moment and wasn’t wearing any of his combat suits which would have made things a lot harder.) But if guns were no good… Jason would find another way. His training in the All Caste hadn’t involved guns... the Green was confident Jason would be formidable regardless. No matter what, Jason was not going to let this man walk out of there without his heart ceasing to beat… call it poetic justice. Whether or not his henchmen were able to revive him afterwards was not Jason’s problem. This was an eye for an eye, plain and simple.

Jason gave a dark smile that promised death, and let Green take over his actions once more.

Jason blinked once more, and became aware that he was panting, running through the streets towards where he had hidden his bike, and dripping blood from several wounds from the fight. He couldn’t assess how bad it was because Green was preventing him from feeling any pain from it, but that wouldn’t last for much longer… not now that Green felt satisfied that his goal had been completed. Jason didn’t have a safe house here in Metropolis, but he needed to find somewhere to get to fast before he was caught.

Jason blinked and this time he was standing in the living room of some random apartment. He couldn’t recognise if he had managed to find a safe house after all, or if he had broken in to someone’s place to use their first aid kit. He was dizzy and shaky, and there was blood pooling into puddles on the floor from the bullet wounds he still needed to dig out. But the pleased warmth of completion filled his body as Green accepted that vindication had been served, and his desires fulfilled.

The Green finally receded after that, which meant all the pain that had been blocked out suddenly slammed into him all at once, along with his full consciousness.

Jason wasn’t given much time to sort out his thoughts or memories of what happened the past several hours. He didn’t get the chance to feel victorious of killing Lex Luthor. Instead Jason’s breath hitched, and he instantly crumpled to the floor. The tears that had been held at bay from the moment he started watching that email footage all poured out of him now. “Dick… I’m sorry.” He sobbed quietly.

Jason cried not just for Dick, but for the little boy who cowered on the ground as Willis pummeled him while his mother watched in a drugged out gaze.

He cried for his mom dying on him, despite all his efforts to help her get better.

He cried for the betrayal of Sheila Haywood, who was the catalyst to his own death. And cried for the death of his past younger self, the one who was so full of hope and innocence and much less cynical and bloodstained than Jason was now.

He cried for the death of his brothers. Damian and now Dick. More dead Robins who should have never had to go through the trauma of dying and coming back.

He cried at the unfairness of it all. That it felt like they could never seem to catch a break before the next shitty thing happened to one of them.

He cried for the fatherly figure that he could never see in Bruce anymore. And cried for how Dick must have felt going through what Bruce put him through.

He cried for his own mistakes, all the cruel actions he had done taken out of anger that had always been a shield for so much of his own hurt that was hidden underneath.

But most of all, Jason cried because he felt so fucking helpless. Over and over again in his life. Why was it that when it mattered, he could never be strong enough when it counted? Why couldn’t he have been able to prevent all of those awful moments from happening in the first place? Why was he only able to do something after the fact?

Jason let himself break down in a way he had never allowed himself to in a long time. (Stubbornly blaming it on the Green for getting his emotions all heighten to the surface. At least he was alone and no one was around to see such a humiliatingly vulnerable display.)

And when all his tears had dried, Jason promised himself he would never let something like this happen again. He would never let another moment worth crying over occur. Not on his watch. Jason would take care of everything. Starting with Dick who offered nothing but endless support for every member of his family but rarely accepted any in return. Dick, who had been there for Jason, who never gave up on him.

Well now it was Jason’s turn to do the same. He would be there for whatever he needed and show Dick that he didn’t always have to be strong around him. That Jason could be his rock for a change.

All Jason wanted to do now was to patch himself up and go find Dick, let himself be pulled into a hug that he’ll pretend to feel begrudging over, and then tell Dick all the things he should have said when he first showed back up a month ago. Tell him that he was so glad Dick came back to them, and that he was so sorry he died and that Jason wasn’t there when Dick opened his eyes again. Tell him that Jason knows how terrifying that moment must have been, and that he wished he could have been there to hold his hand and ground him just like Dick had once done for him.

Jason just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix things between them. That Dick would be willing to hear him out and forgive him for not being a good brother when he needed him.

But even if Dick was still angry with him, or got upset because he hadn’t wanted Jason to go hunting down his killer, Jason was determined to treat him better and make things up to him now. He wouldn’t let Dick deal with his pain all alone. Not anymore, and not ever again.

-

Chapter Text

-

The day after Richard reunited with Damian, after a tearful reunion where they spent the whole day together and Damian was finally convinced it wasn’t all just a dream and that Richard was truly back with him, Damian had already made the decision that no one was ever going to separate them again.

Damian had therefore hoped for Richard to agree to stay in the manor with him to recuperate, but when he didn’t, Damian assumed there was a good reason for it. (Richard never did anything without a reason. That, Damian was confident with. It was why he was sure that there was a reason that he did not contact Damian immediately when Damian first revived.)

So when Damian was all but dragged back home by Father away from Richard with the flimsy excuses that Richard needed time alone to rest, Damian conceded but only because he would take the opportunity to pack some of his things.

Damian had no intention of staying in the manor any longer.

He had realised a long time ago that ‘home’ was wherever Richard was.

Damian may have given up on living with Richard once, back during the time when Father had returned, but he would not do so again. This time if Richard was not going to be staying at the manor with him, then Damian would not stay there either. Because after everything Richard had done for him, after Richard beleived in him and gave him a chance when no one else bothered to care, after everything Richard became to mean to him… Damian had already decided a long time ago that his loyalty would belong to him and always would be. Damian would follow Richard, wherever he went. And after not seeing him for so long, after mourning him and thinking he was dead-! Well Damian was not about to let Richard go anywhere that Damian could not follow. Not now, and not ever again.

So as soon as Damian reached his bedroom, he went rummaging through his closet. Pulling out a backpack and a small duffle bag that Jason had bought him that time he took himself and Timothy camping for some ridiculous excuse of ‘bonding’— Damian placed both on his bed and started carefully placing his weapons inside. (After folding and packing the Robin costume which naturally was the first thing he packed.) His sword and knives collection ended up taking up most of the space in the bag and he could practically hear the soft chiding in his head that sounded just like Richard’s voice, reminding him that he needed to actually pack some clothes.

With a childish frown, Damian rearranged the items in an attempt to make more room for them, and finally started folding some clothes to bring with him as well.

Once he was satisfied, he zipped the overnight bag closed and moved on to start filling the backpack. After a moment of shy hesitation, he started carefully selecting his favourite sketchbooks and a collection of art supplies to bring along with him by convincing himself that Richard had always enjoyed looking at his artwork and encouraged his hobby. Damian had every intention of creating something special as a gift for Richard.

This time packing went a lot faster since Damian was eager about it, and his backpack was stuffed before he knew it. He was just about to attempt to zip it closed when one of his older notebooks sandwiched between two already filled sketchbooks caught his eye.

Unlike his sketchbooks, this book had been bought with the purpose of being a journal. Damian’s breath caught as he ran a finger down it’s spine. Richard had bought it for him when Father had returned and Damian had to leave the penthouse (leave Richard!) to move back to the manor. It had been… an adjustment period, for Damian to get used to being the Robin to a Batman who was not Richard.

At the time, Damian had a lot of feelings about it, feelings that had felt impossible to express. Especially to Father. This lead to Damian having more and more outbursts of irritability. Father was losing patience with him and it felt like all the strives moving forward in his emotional development that Damian had progressed with Richard was reverting back to how he was before. But Richard.. kind and gentle Richard, never got angry with him for it. Richard held him close when Damian felt like he was on the verge of tears of frustration, and listened as Damian ranted about foolhardy excuses that he and Damian both knew weren’t the real reason for his upset.

And then Richard bought him the journal and told him that it might help Damian understand and process what he was feeling if he wrote about it. He thoughtfully suggested that writing his feelings down on paper might make it easier than expressing his emotions out loud. He promised no one would ever see it, that it would just be for Damian’s eyes alone.

And it had helped. In more ways than one. While Richard had encouraged Damian to just write whatever words came to mind without thinking too much about it, it had ended up evolving into something… more. Damian hadn’t meant to, he truly hadn’t, but what started as a few observations of Father’s behaviour in an attempt to understand him better (and get on his good side,) somehow ended up becoming a list of in-depth comparisons between Father and Richard.

It was through his secret journaling of recording his ugh, feelings on the matter, that Damian was actually able to come to the realisation of what Richard meant to him. And how greatly that relationship differentiated between the one Damian held with Father.

At first, it had been an exercise to simply attempt to adjust his fighting style as Robin alongside a new Batman. But it quickly went beyond that.

It ended up becoming a raw reflection of different moments of his life and the differences between how Damian felt about it when Richard was involved as opposed to when the same situations happened with Father.

Remembering there was something Damian needed to add since the last time he had written it, Damian opened up his journal and took a peek at the pages of notes that had already been filled. Curiously, he flipped back to the front of the book to where the first entry resided. So much time had passed since he had first written in it, it felt like ages ago. Damian wondered how many of the words still remained true, and how much he would now change.

Damian couldn’t help biting his lip as he looked at his younger thoughts penned out in blue ink on white paper. Under ‘Father’ he had started with a list of the first words to describe him that had immediately came to mind upon hearing the title. Batman, Bruce Wayne, head of the household, larger than life, leader, someone to impress. Were all neatly listed. Then under a separate note labeled ‘Feelings’, Damian had written how he felt admiration and pride towards him, especially after hearing Mother speak so highly of him for so long. There was also the way Father always exuded a calm confidence no matter the situation. But… Damian had other feelings about him too. He had made notes that Father was a figure of authority and someone Damian had been desparate for approval from. For acceptance from. Father was strong and commanding, but that meant he was domineering and stubborn. He was not a man Damian felt he could disobey. He was not a man Damian felt he could ever completely let his guard down around.

In comparison, when Damian thought about Richard, the words he had written had a completely different feel to them. Even his penmanship seemed more relaxed as opposed to the rigid stiff wording from before. Richard Grayson was his Batman, his partner. He was also the first Robin, and Nightwing and his older brother. But, it was more than just titles that had made him feel so fond. Because when Damian thought of Richard, the words that he came up with to describe him were: warmth, kindness, happiness, care, reassurance, comfort, safety, trust, affection, home. It was funny how traits that Damian had once thought of as a weakness were now seen as strengths Damian admired and was grateful for. After all, Richard had been the person who Damian had felt the closest to from the moment he had been introduced to everyone. It was no wonder Damian had gotten so attached to him so quickly. Especially when Richard had always proven himself to be someone compassionate who Damian could count on to always be understanding no matter the circumstances. He was someone he respected, but still someone Damian could always be comfortable being himself around. Someone who would be there for him and who would actually have his back when it came down to it. Richard was… Richard was someone important to him. Richard was family.

Damian swallowed as he turned the page to look at the next comparison. This entry spoke about the differences between living with Father and with Richard.

Because when Damian first came to Gotham and entered the manor, he still remembered how uneasy he had felt. According to his journal, he had described his feelings with: nervous, excited, prideful, but anxious to prove himself.

It was funny how those feelings changed during the time he moved in with Richard. At that time he was still unsure of his place and fearful that with Father being gone there was no reason to continue to keep him around. Richard had no obligation to him the way Father’s blood did. So when he was offered Robin and a place by Richard’s side instead of being sent back to Mother, Damian had thought there had to be catch, it was simply too good to be true! He wrote about feeling apprehensive and unsure, but ultimately grateful, and relief. And later, when Grayson turned into Richard (which then turned into Baba, even though neither got around to admitting it out loud until Richard’s return- a fact that Damian greatly regretted since he had only gotten to use the term when speaking to Richard’s headstone. Damian definitely planned to make up for lost time.) It didn’t change the fact that Damian had found happiness living with Richard and the life they had carved out for themselves back then. Being with him, Damian had started to find himself. To tear away and discover what was underneath all the layers of what had been drilled into him by Mother and the League. Richard taught him so much. Not only how to live, but that it was okay to be vulnerable. That love was a strength not a weakness. Richard showed him that it was okay to just be Damian. That he didn’t need to prove himself or earn a place in Richard’s world.

Living with Richard had meant comfort, joy, love.

And then father came back, and Damian lost that little piece of happiness he had finally been able to obtain for himself. Richard hardly visited the manor during that time, and though he claimed it was because he was giving Damian a chance to get to know his Dad, Damian didn’t know how to say that Father would always be Father but he would never be able to be his ‘Dad’ because someone else already held that spot in his heart.

Damian let out a quiet sigh. All that felt like so long ago now. Truthfully, Damian hadn’t expected that he would stay here this long. He had always secretly held out hope that Richard would invite him to live in Blüdhaven with him (back when the city still existed of course.) And once it was gone, Damian still felt it obvious that he was more than willing to live with Richard wherever he went. But the one time it was brought up, he was reminded that Batman needed a Robin. And… much to his chargin, Richard refused to entertain the idea of being Batman anymore once Father had returned.

Damian understood Richard’s reasoning it was just… he missed the special time they had together. And if Damian was being truly honest, (which was the whole point of the journal in the first place,) then he missed the time they spent together outside of Patrol just as much.

Granted his original anxiety about living in the manor was not there anymore, but still, Damian never did feel the same amount of delight he had felt when living with Richard. Contentment, was not the same thing as Happiness. And even more so when Damian would never be as comfortable around Father as he did around Richard. With Father… Damian had always had to be on his best behavior. He could never feel truly relaxed enough to simply be. Not like the way he felt whenever he was with Richard.

Turning the page, Damian let out a small rueful smile on the next comparison he had written about; Robin.

Because when Damian is Father’s Robin, those feelings still hadn’t changed since the day he had first written about it. Father’s Robin means Damian needs to be the very best, failure is not an option. In fact he couldn’t dare make a single mistake. Because if he did, it would only prove Father right. For it felt like Father was constantly waiting for him to mess up and break his golden no-killing rule. It didn’t feel like Father trusted him, or believed in him when Damian told him that he changed. It made Damian feel like nothing he did was ever good enough to please him. And that no matter how hard Damian tried, it still felt as though he was being looked down on, underestimated, and not taken seriously. Which made Damian constantly feel on edge, like he had something to prove. The most frustrating part was that it felt like everything Father asked of him was always some sort of invisible test. Anytime Robin answered his questions or commented on a case, he felt like he had let him down in some way,

On the contrary, when Damian was Richard’s Robin… it was the best he had ever felt. It may not have been as easy in the beginning but the more they tactfully worked together, the more Damian could confidently say that he felt valued, trusted, and respected. Dare he say, it was even fun! He felt like an actual partner who was believed in to have Richard’s back. And in turn, Damian genuinely trusted Richard’s intution and stopped questioning him in the field. The best part about being his Robin was that he felt like Richard was truly proud of him. In fact Richard had even told him so on multiple occasions! Richard was the very first person to say those words to him. (Especially as opposed to Father who never gave him any compliments on his performance. With Father, it was only ever critiques and criticism.)

But perhaps another reason everything felt so different with Richard, was also due to the fact that it simply felt more meaningful. After Richard had told Damian the origin behind the Robin name and what it meant that he was choosing Damian to bear the name and carry on his legacy… it was something Damian had felt both touched and honoured over. Since that moment, everytime Damian dawned his suit and cape, Damian felt that he was not just representing the Robins that came before him, but was honouring Richard’s family and carrying a piece of Richard within him. It made Damian feel that he was more than just Robin, he was representing the Graysons. And he’d be damned if he didn’t do everything he could to make Richard proud of allowing him to be part of his family.

A soft smile graced his face at the thought, and he spent a moment lingering on the words he had once shyly written down explaining all this. Damian would forever be grateful for what Richard generously entrusted him with.

Finally flipping the page, Damian sucked in a sharp inhale when he saw what was next written. His fingers delicately running across the words in solemn remembrance.

When Father had died mere months after Damian had been introduced to him and had yet to find his place in the family… the entry only had one line of disjointed feelings: shock, disbelief, sadness, confusion, denial, anger, lost.

And while Damian wouldn’t deny that it had been a tragedy that he was glad had not remained true, It was the comparison under it that had his hands shaking. He could still remember the grief of losing Richard so strongly he could taste it. It was the one of the last added entries, something that Damian never expected he’d have to include so soon. Damian remembered pulling out the journal after he was told about Richard already being gone by the time Damian was brought back. The feelings about it he had written on the page felt so raw and full of anguish, it still hurt Damian’s heart now to read the thoughts he described, there are even smudged letters, the ink smeared from tears stains on the page.

Because when Richard died… Damian described feeling a hole inside of him that could never be filled. His world broke apart and shattered into pieces and he felt like he lost the only person in the world who was ever capable of truly loving him. It was not simply “devastation” at realising he had been pointlessly brought back into a Richard-less world, it was not simply “loneliness” of having no one on his side anymore, it was not simply “fury” for having Richard taken from him, it was not simply “guilt” that Damian hadn’t been there to save him and stop him death from occurring… No, all those words of emotions was too much of an understatement for what Damian had been feeling. The only way Damian could describe it was that it felt like life had lost all meaning to him. It felt like he was still dead too, just on the inside. And that without Richard, he would never feel alive again. Because Richard was the only person who had shown him what unconditional love felt like. And without him, Damian had nothing. He didn’t think his heart would ever heal from having that taken away from him.

There was only one last journal entry after this one. It was the final page.

Damian had expressed how he felt when Father had returned back from the dead. On one hand there was shock, joy, pride. Because nothing could keep the Batman down! But it also meant his happy life with Richard and the routine he had settled in was about to be completely uprooted. Damian wrote about guiltily feeling the unsurety, hesitance, unwillingness, and trepidation about having to leave his home with Richard to move back in with Father.

Taking a deep breath, Damian reached for a pen. It was time to add one last entry, and after the last comparison, the differences on this one he couldn’t have been happier to write about.

Now that Richard had come back… Damian felt like he could finally breathe again. The feeling of relief was so strong it knocked everything else out of him. The very second Damian had laid eyes on Richard alive and warm and right in front of him, there was an uncontrollable happiness radiating from the depths of his soul. (Even when a mountain of tears had started to pour down his face!) And when Damian had crashed into Richard’s arms and clung to him tightly never wanting to let go, it had felt like the wish for Richard’s return he had made night after night had finally been answered. It felt like colour was suddenly brought back into Damian’s dark, gray world. It felt like life was brought back into his chest. It felt like love. Unconditionally. Just the way Richard had once taught him. And Damian knew then and there, that he would be willing to do anything at all, if it meant keeping something bad from happening to Richard again. No matter what it took.

As Damian finished writing the newest passage of his reflections and closed the book, there was one thing he very clearly took away from all the comparisons and differences of these moments. And that was that Father will always be Father, a title as formal as Mother for the people who’s blood he carried. But Richard was the one who Damian looked up to as a parent. Which meant it was Richard, and only Richard who would ever hold the right to be called “Baba”. 

And Baba wasn’t allowed to die. Damian would not allow it. He refused to ever lose him again.

-

With his bags packed, Damian tucked the notebook into his backpack and then slipped it on and quietly made his way down the stairs. It was easy to avoid Father who was either in the cave or in his office, but it was a lot less simple to get away without Pennyworth finding out. Damian remembered his earlier days of attempting to sneak out only to have Pennyworth standing below the window with a mild expression on his face as though to say it was a futile attempt to escape without his knowledge. Damian had begrudgingly had to concede that the man’s talent when it came to catching anyone getting up to mischief was on par with the league. So this time rather than try and hide it, Damian decided to go the smarter route and simply tell him his intentions by writing a note explaining that he was leaving to go spend some time with Richard. Damian very purposely did not include where that would be (mostly because he wasn’t exactly sure) and didn’t mention how long he planned on staying either (if he planned on coming back at all.)

He did graciously confirm that he would not miss patrol so at the very least Father would have no reason to have hissy fit over him leaving so long as he did not shirk his responsibilities. (Though naturally Damian intended to be patrolling partnered with Nightwing and not Father, there was no need to include that in the note.)

Nodding satisfied, Damian left the note on the kitchen table and then left through the front door without any fuss. (If Pennyworth knew of his plans, he must’ve approved since for the first time no one was waiting there to stop him.)

Once Damian left the manor grounds, the real issue came when Damian didn’t exactly know where exactly Richard was. But Damian was Robin and he was resourceful so he would surely be able to find out! If anyone could find his Batman, it would be him! With that confident thought in mind, Damian set out on his hunt for Richard.

The first thing Damian did was check out every place he and Richard used to frequent together around the city on the off chance Richard had thought to go for a walk or want to get a scoop of his favourite ice cream, or visit Zitka at the zoo. It was unlikely, but Damian still hadn’t had a chance to properly talk to Richard about where he had been and what he had been through when he was gone on his undercover mission. For all Damian knew, Richard could have been held in a cell somewhere and would have enjoyed the freedom of indulging in some of his favourite things now that he was finally home. Of course it was more likely that he was simply indoors resting, but Damian didn’t want to rule anything out.

It was only after thoroughly checking every place he could think of with no success did Damian start to move on to possible apartments and safehouses Richard might be staying at. Damian cursed that Richard no longer had a phone or this all would have gone a lot more smoothly. Still, Damian took it as a challenge as part of his Robin training. Almost like a game for himself. The rules was that he was to locate Richard with zero outside help. This included any assistance from Oracle who could simply give him a list of all the safehouses he was unaware of. (Because Damian knew he had really only been to a handful. Anytime he had gotten hurt he had always been taken straight back to the cave.) So the only safehouses he was aware of were the ones he had personally visited when it was one of his bothers who were injured and held up at one. I-It’s not like Damian was worried about them, obviously! He simply needed to make sure they had not done anything foolish without Damian there to supervise that they were taking care of themselves properly. That was really the only reason he visited. Definitely.

In anycase! Neither Jason or Timothy had required the use of any safehouses lately, but Damian didn’t rule out that Richard might be using one of theirs if his own were compromised or abandoned. Still, Damian started from the ones he knew of and began to work his way down. ’I’ll find you soon Baba! Just you wait! I bet I can find you before it’s time for Patrol!’

-

Damian did indeed discover the right safehouse Richard was temporarily staying at. But it had taken far more time than he expected. If Damian was being honest with himself, it might have even come down to luck. It was only on a whim that Damian had decided to check one of Jason’s old abandoned safe houses; the one Jason had made a big fuss about it being compromised and no longer wanted it after the one time Richard had crashed it. The last time Damian had been there, it hadn’t been a pleasant memory. Mostly because Richard had only needed to use it because he was hurt badly enough that he couldn’t make it to the cave, and more importantly because the injury was entirely Damian’s fault.

Damian could never forget that night.

It had been long before Father was lost in the time and presumed dead. Damian was not yet Robin but had completed enough non-lethal training with Father to feel confident that he was ready and would not fall back on the leagues teachings. He wanted to go out and fight crime with everyone else but Father refused despite it being a busy enough night that even Nightwing had made the trip down to Gotham to help out.

Damian had thought if help was required then he was more than capable of providing it himself. And so while Pennyworth was busy monitoring the computers, Damian had snuck out to crash patrol to prove that he could easily handle himself. …He had slightly miscalculated and things quickly got out of hand. (It was not Damian’s finest moment but he didn’t like to admit that he may have gotten a little in over his head) Richard ended up finding him in time and foolishly rushed in to shield Damian. He ended up getting stabbed in the stomach in Damian’s place. And Damian had been so panicked worried (Damian does not panic- he was merely… concerned that they wouldn’t get back to the cave in time.) Damian hadn’t been scared… he hadn’t! but Richard had been bleeding out under his hands and maybe Damian was just the tiniest bit terrified. (Damian hated himself even more for Richard having to comfort him when he was the one who should have been receiving comfort! But that was just how Richard was; disregarding himself to selflessly put everyone’s wellbeing above his own every single time.)

After Richard coaxed him into calming down by insisting he was okay- to which Damian didn’t believe for a second- Richard promised that he knew a place close by that would have a first aid kit they could use to patch him up with. It turned out that place was Jason’s old safehouse. By the time they reached there, Richard was swaying, stumbling, and lightheaded from bloodloss, and while he spent his remaining energy trying to focus on remaining upright, Damian had made the executive decision to take charge of everything else.

Damian had personally disarmed any alarms and traps in the entrance and picked the locks himself to let themselves in (something he would have taken pride in if not for the dire straits of the situation.) As it was, all Damian had felt was overwhelming guilt for being the reason Richard was hurt. Damian remembered feeling like he had completely failed at proving to be a worthy Robin, no matter how many reassurances Richard gave. Damian had sworn he would do better next time. He also insisted (demanded) to be the one to personally take care of the stab wound. It was only that Damian was so upset his hand was shaking when time came to stitch him up. Damian would never admit but he was a little relieved when Jason suddenly came barging in because apparently Damian had disabled the alarms but not the motion detector inside and Jason had received an alert that someone had broken in. To Damian’s chagrin, Jason immediately took over the stitching, complaining the entire time about how Richard would owe him for getting blood all over the couch which for some reason got a laugh out of Richard. (Damian did not understand what was humorous about Richard losing blood.)

But even with Richard getting urgent care and seeming unbothered by the entire situation, Damian classified it as a horrible night. Richard had stubbornly refused to go to the cave or a doctor despite them coming to the conclusion that Richard had lost too much blood and would need a transfusion when he passed out. At least that had been something Damian could help with! He had jumped at the chance to be more useful than simply wrapping Richard’s bandages up, and had been more than happy to donate his own blood. (He already knew they were the same type from the times Richard had given his blood to Damian.) But Jason hadn’t let him, he had treated Damian like a child, saying he was too young and that if Richard wasn’t unconscious he would agree! Well good thing Jason wasn’t the boss of him. Damian drew his own blood regardless, having watched how Pennyworth did it enough times to know how to set up the IV. He reminded Jason that he of all people should have understood that with league practices, something as simple as donating blood was hardly a big deal. Besides, Jason’s blood type didn’t match Richard’s and there was no point in wasting time having to go all the way to the cave to get some.

However even after doing what Damian intended to, (and marveling at the fact that his blood was going to live in Richard and help him heal,) it still didn’t diminish the guilt that Richard wouldn’t have been in that position in the first place if Damian hadn’t been so careless and overconfident. It was unacceptable of him and though Richard recovered well, the memory of Damian’s mistake and what it almost cost him was something that haunted him to this day.

Needless to say, Damian was not too pleased with having to step foot back into that wretched safehouse filled with blood-stained memories of his failure.

But if that’s where Richard currently was, nothing could stop Damian from joining him! After all, Damian was no longer that inexperienced child who made rookie-mistakes and couldn’t handle a little stitching. This time, Damian was completely capable of protecting Richard from harm. He had vowed ever since that day to never be the cause of Richard getting hurt again and he took that promise to himself very seriously. 

-

Damian disengaged the security system, picked the locks and let himself in with an eerie sense of déjà-vu. Though when he entered the place looked a lot more rundown than he remembered. Never mind worrying about any motion detectors, it was clear no one was monitoring this place anymore. There was the bare minimum of any furniture (much less than he remebered there being) and there was a fine layer of dust covering most of it. Damian frowned, thinking it was another bust and that Richard wasn’t there. Not until he heard a quiet noise that sounded like a whimper coming from the bedroom.

“Richard?” Damian called out, setting his bags down and silently drawing one of his weapons.

It was only when he heard a familiar voice croak out “Dami..?” that Damian quickly dropped the weapon and rushed to where Richard was.

His joy and relief with at last finding Richard, quickly turned to concern at the state Richard was in. He was curled up atop a plain mattress, his body trembling and his eyes squeezed shut with his arms wrapped around himself in a self-soothing parody of a hug.

Damian was at his side in an instant, and in his panic the name slipped out unbridden “Baba? What’s wrong?”

“…Dami…” Richard sniffled, staring at him with wet eyes and a dazed glassy stare for a moment, before he was scrambling off the bed and all but collapsing to his knees as he pulled Damian into a hug. “Dami!”

Damian had no idea what had gotten Richard so upset but with a lump in his throat he immediately hugged him back just as fiercely, practically burying into him has protectiveness roared in his chest. “I am here Baba. Tell me what is wrong and I will fix it for you.” He swore to him earnestly.

It took a few moments before Richard’s voice shakily got out “I-I don’t… is this real? Or are am I still there? And they’re messing with my mind again.. trying to break me by showing me what I want most only to take it all away…” Richard’s breathing hitched and fresh tears began rolling down his face.

Hearing Richard sound so lost broke Damian’s heart and his small hand gently stroked Richard’s back. Damian didn’t know who this ‘they’ were but he swore he would reign pain down on whoever dared to hurt his Baba so badly that it made him question his reality!  “It is real. I am real. I am here with you.” Damian promised letting himself be held as tightly and as long as Richard needed (and since no one was there but them, he indulged himself in holding him for just as long back, secretly hoping Richard won’t break away.) “I too was worried it was too good to be true when I saw you yesterday, but we are both alive. And I am not going anywhere. I promise. You are here with me in Gotham, you are not there anymore.”

Damian felt Richard nod against him, and after a few more moments he finally pulled away, giving Damian a chance to look at him and really see him. Of course Damian had gotten the chance to stare at Richard the previous day, wanting to commit the moment to memory that he was really and truly back. But Damian realised now that he was so overjoyed and emotional that he hadn’t taken in the details. He had been too blinded by happiness to notice the things he didn’t want to see.

Because observing him now, Richard looked… drained. And that was putting it kindly. It struck a deep worry in Damian’s gut. Because more than just exhaustion weighing Richard down, he looked one blow away from keeling over. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he wore a haunted look in his gaze, as though Richard was struggling to stay present and not get lost in the pain of traumatic memories. It only emphasized the fact that he looked sickly and pale. There was now a sharpness to Richard’s cheeks that hadn’t been there before Damian died; it was the type of gauntness that only came from not eating. Richard had clearly lost an unhealthy amount of weight.

The dark bruise on the side of Richard’s jaw wasn’t looking much better either and it elicited a murderous fury coiling in Damian’s stomach like a viper ready to strike. He did not know who had dared to hurt Richard but once Damian found out, he would be sure to make whoever who put it there regret the day they were born. He would not let Richard get hurt anymore! He needed Richard alive and safe. He needed to see Richard smile again. Because Damian couldn’t recall the last time he had.

When Damian had died… it had been one of his most painful regrets. Not being able to see the smile from the person he cared about the most, one last time. Damian hadn’t wanted to die. Not only for himself, but because he had wanted Richard to live. And he didn’t know how well he would accomplish that without Damian by his side. Because if there was one thing Damian had learnt, it was that Richard’s self preservation skills were severely lacking. Richard may have taken incredibly good care of Damian, but he always neglected to care of himself in return. And the times that he did, it always only seemed to be for Damian’s sake.

Damian saw it in the way that Richard would push himself to the brink of exhaustion during their time living together at the penthouse. And if not for the fact that he needed to be in semi-okay condition in order to take care of Damian poperly, the youngest had no doubt that Richard would have worked himself to death. There had been times when Richard barely ate or slept, he didn’t take good care of his injuries or wounds nor did he let anyone know when he was in pain. It was only due to wanting to set a good example for Damian that he started to do so. And when Damian noticed this, he exploited it as best as he could. It may have been little manipulative on his part, but Damian had decided manipulation for the greater good was acceptable. Especially if that ‘good’ was Richard’s health and wellbeing.

But then Damian died, and when he was brought back, his worst nightmare had come true. Without Damian there to be Richard’s motivation of taking better care of himself, Richard hadn’t lived well after all.

The knowledge of that hurt. And it made Damian all the more determined not to let it happen again. Damian was granted a second chance at life, he had every intention spending it by Richard’s side.

’I’m here Baba. And I am always on your side just as you were on mine. I promise.’ Damian thought to himself as he lead Richard to sit back onto the bed.

“Richard you must inform me of all that troubles you so that I may better take care of you.” Damian told him seriously, an adorable scowl on his face.

Richard chuckled softly, his expression affectionate and so full of love as he locked eyes with Damian, his gaze gaining a little more clarity than the pain-filled haze from before. “Oh Dami… thank you for worrying about me, I didn’t mean to break down like that in front of you, I just got confused for a moment.. But I’m fine now! Really! Besides it’s not your job to take care of me. It’s my job to take care of you remember?”

Damian frowned. “You are the one who taught me that there is no shame in accepting help when it is freely offered. Besides I am your Robin. We are partners. We take care of each other.”

Richard’s expression got a little wistful and melancholic as he reminded him gently “But I’m not Batman anymore.”

Damian merely tutted as though Richard had said something particularly ridiculous. “Tt. Honestly Richard, do you not know this by now? You will always be my Batman.” Damian reminded him, his gaze holding Richard’s stare with nothing but steady sincerity.

Richard stared at him in awe for a second, his hand moving to tenderly cup the side of Damian’s face, before leaning closer and gently pressing their foreheads together as his eyes fluttered closed, as though they were connected and he was soaking every second of Damian in. “And you’re my Robin.”

Damian didn’t verbally reply but squeezed his eyes shut to hide it’s wetness, his breath hitching over the proclamation and the love behind those words.

When Richard spoke again his voice wobbled wetly as though he was holding back tears once more himself. “I missed you so much baby bat.”

Damian swallowed thickly, his voice low but honest as he murmured “The feeling is mutual.” Because Damian had no way to put into words just how much he had missed Richard. It was beyond what words could describe.

So ignoring the warmth of his cheeks, Damian put on his signature glare. “Now when was the last time you ate?“

At Richard’s guilty look, Damian frowned, all geared up to go on a rant to hide his worry. “Hmph. Ridiculous! I bet if I checked right now your cupboards would be abysmal. This is exactly why it is best I move in with you. Clearly you are not capable of making good choices without me. And don’t get me started on the dusty decor in this place!” (Well ‘decor’ was putting it politely, it was more the lack thereof and the fact that the safehouse was not set up to house anyone long term. But Damian wasn’t going to comment on that. If this is where Richard had chosen to be then Damian would do all that he could to make it comfortable for him.) “—Honestly Richard you cannot expect to live in such a hideous space. No matter, I will handle it. You are lucky you have me.” He grumbled, arms crossed to hide his nervousness at inviting himself to stay.

But Richard only smiled wider, the sight sending a warmth straight to Damian’s heart. (It was the smile he had been waiting to see since the moment he came back to life!)

“I sure am. Extremely lucky, in fact.” Richard agreed. And before Damian could protest, Richard was pulling him onto his lap and trapping him in one of his octopus-like hugs that Damian would deny how badly he missed. “I love you kiddo.” Richard whispered, burying his face in Damian’s hair.

“I love you as well Baba…” Damian mumbled, hiding his blush before he coughed and changed the subject “but do not attempt to distract me! You are not fooling anyone into thinking you are not unwell so tell me your ailments.” Damian quickly demanded as he felt just how thin Richard had gotten as his body wrapped around him. Richard was shivering too, though he did a good show of attempting to hide it. Damian had to bite his tongue to stem a retort on it when he noticed there were no blankets on the bed beyond the paper-thin bedsheets.

It was unacceptable. Thank goodness Damian had decided to come. He would nurse Richard back to health no matter how long it took.

-

It was 2 weeks later, from when Damian had left the manor and refused to go back, refusing to answer anyone’s questions on where he was other than to confirm he was safe.

Within those two weeks, Richard’s condition continued to worsen, his health declining and getting more worrying as more symptoms started to emerge. By this time Damian was still holding out hope that he would get better, but he was also more and more afraid to leave Richard’s side for even a moment, completely convinced that Richard needed him and if he wasn’t there with him then something horrible might happen. And in all fairness, Damian had good reason to believe so. There had already been a couple frightening episodes where Damian was able to calm him down from bad panic attacks and help him through the migraines.

The fact that the rest of his family didn’t even seem to care about Richard’s suffering at all only fueled Damian’s protective rage towards them. And within those same same two weeks, his relationships with his other brothers all but deteriorated due to the inexplicably awful treatment towards Richard, which Damian refused to stand for.

It was in the midst of all of this, that Damian received an unexpected and anonymous email.

By the time Damian decoded the video and finished watching it, his vision had gone blurry with tears.

The video, though short, was full of emotion. Damian knew there had been a reason why Richard hadn’t sought him out when Damian returned back to life. In fact they had spoke about it in person and Richard had already explained that it was because he hadn’t known. But finding out that it was Father who had purposely kept that information from Richard was a shock Damian hadn’t been expecting.

As for all the other touching sentiments… the parts about explaining why Richard thought of him as a son… well, Damian was certainly crying for good reason.

But. It also made one thing clear. Whoever had sent him this email, didn’t understand his and Richard’s relationship at all. Because none of what Richard said in the video about him had been a surprise. Damian didn’t need to overhear a private conversation Richard had held with Father explaining his feelings when Damian had lived through every example Richard had given. Damian had been there when Richard had done all of those things for him that were mentioned. He had been there as his own feelings of familial love for Richard had begun to grow and he had experienced it firsthand when Richard with his endless patience, quelled the turbulence in his heart. When Richard taught him that he didn’t need to earn his love, that he didn’t need to prove himself worthy of being part of his family. And that to Richard, Damian had already been completely accepted into his heart.

So to have someone go behind Richard’s back to send this to Damian as though Damian wouldn’t have simply spoken to Richard in person about the nature of their brothers-to-now-parent-and-son relationship prior to receiving the video, not just during these two weeks but during the entire time they had lived together at the penthouse… how utterly naive of them! It really did prove that the sender had underestimated his closeness with Richard and his ability of communication when it came to speaking about one’s feelings.

So had the sender been hoping to catch him off guard? Did the sender think this was new information to Damian? That Damian hadn’t known that Richard had seen him as a son and that Damian in turn saw him as his Baba? Damian shook his head as he tutted. It was like the sender didn’t know Damian or Richard very well at all. The sender obviously didn’t understand that Richard was never embarrassed when it came to expressing his love for Damian. He would have been more than willing to say all those same sentiments directly to Damian’s face, there was no need to hear it through speaking to someone else.

It almost seemed like the target had been for Damian to doubt Father, who clearly had no answers to the questions Richard had posed about Damian’s interests outside of the cape. But the joke was once again on the sender, for Damian had figured out Father’s disinterest in such frivolous and superficial things like Damian’s hobbies a long time ago. It was no new revelation to Damian and he felt no hurt from it, it was simply a fact. Besides, why should he care whether Father knew things about him when he had Richard for that? Richard was the one who had always acted like his Baba, not Father. His prior journaling had made that very clear already.

The only thing that had genuinely surprised him from what he watched was hearing that Richard had intended to adopt him, and probably would have, if Father hadn’t come back. (Damian could have been a true Grayson! He could have proudly belonged to Richard!)

Damian also went stony faced as Richard confessed to it being Father’s orders that had kept Richard away when Damian had moved back into the manor. All this time Damian had thought he had done something wrong, that he had been too clingy or that Richard had grown tired of him and that was why he had given him space. He had no idea that Father had a hand in purposely separating them! Damian didn’t know how to feel about that other than a crushing betrayal. He was glad he had brought his journal along with him after all so he could later sort out what he was really beyond that (though he had a feeling it was probably, hurt.)

The final part about Richard having a hard time on the mission and wanting to ‘join Damian’ in the afterlife had saddened him deeply, but Damian understood where Richard had been coming from. How could he not, when it had been exactly how he felt when he was forced to live in a world without Richard? Mourning him, greiving him, thinking he was dead forever… it had been devastating. There had been times, when Damian had been missing him so deeply he had even hallucinated Richard. But Damian didn’t want to dwell on it and he hoped Richard wasn’t doing so anymore either. He was just glad that they were both here now. And that neither of them would ever need to miss the other or feel lonely again. Not if Damian had anything to say about it!

Still… Damian could admit that it had been touching to hear Richard advocate for his love for him so intensely in the footage. And shyly, Damian rewinded the video back to the beginning, (and once he made sure that Richard was still in the other room and that no one was around to see him,) he listened to one particular line over and over again as a bashful but giddy smile grew on his face.

“He is in every way that matters.”  “He is in every way that matters.”  “He is in every way that matters.”

As Damian played it on a loop, he unconsciously had a hand pressed over his heart as he closed his eyes. He hadn’t expected for this meaningful feeling to bubble up in his chest upon receiving the validation that Richard really did feel the same way that Damian did. That it hadn’t mattered that his blood was of Mother and Father’s, or that Damian had missed the opportunity for Richard to formally adopt him. Because Richard still saw him as his son in every one of the important ways that it mattered.

Richard was his found family. Richard had chosen Damian.

For so long, Damian had felt insecure that while Father had personally chosen to take in each of his siblings, Damian was the only one who had been dumped on him, and Damian had often felt like nothing more than a burden to him. An obligation. A responsibility due to his blood. (Similarly to the way Mother cared for him only due to the plans of him being the heir.)

And while there was something there -there had to have been, for Father to go to such lengths to bring him back- Damian still felt that was more out of responsibility. He was Father’s youngest child and Batman had failed to save him. It made sense that Father would want to correct that, if nothing more than to alleviate his own guilt about Damian’s death. …And even if Father did indeed carry a form of love for him, that didn’t mean that Father actually liked him as a person. 

For Damian harbored no illusions that Father truly liked him enough that he would have chosen to take him home like he did with his brothers if he had met him as simply ‘Damian’ without any personal ties to him. There is simply no way he would have. Because Father had never wanted him. If he did, Damian wouldn’t have had to fight so hard to get his unattainable approval. He wouldn’t have to try and earn his attention. Damian wouldn’t be scrutinized over every single thing he did. Because the fact of the matter was, even after all this time, Father was still wary around him, he didn’t know how to connect with Damian and he didn’t bother to try. Probably because he still thought the worst of him. Damian knew that if there was ever a dead body found near him, unlike Richard who would jump to Damian’s aid and ask him if he was hurt and what happened, Father would immediately believe that Damian had killed someone. It would be his first conclusion without fail because rather than being seen as his son, Father saw Damian as an ex-assassin first and foremost. One that needed to be kept a close-eye on less he relapse back into old habits.

But none of that mattered anymore because where Father didn’t want him, Richard did. Richard actually saw him for who he was underneath everyone’s expectations of him. Where everyone saw him as a vicious untamed and arrogant feline, biting and hissing and threatening everyone with his claws, Richard saw him as a small scared unwanted kitten who had just needed someone to give him a chance. Richard had picked Damian. And there was no reason to! It’s not like having Damian around was making Richard’s life easier, Richard was still so young when he had taken on the responsibility of raising Damian upon himself despite it only complicating things! And yet, despite it all, he wanted Damian to be his son and still did. Someone…someone actually liked him enough to want to keep him. To love him.

And while it was something Damian had already figured out, receiving this irrefutable proof of his Baba’s feelings towards him and that he hadn’t regretted it or changed his mind, just about sent Damian’s heart careening out of his chest. There was no more insecure doubting his place in Richard’s life anymore. Because Richard saw Damian as his son and the fact that they weren’t blood related only made it that much more impactful.

Damian could only describe what he was feeling right now, as the overwhelming feeling of being loved.

And after a moment of composing himself and drying his tears, Damian silently saved the video, and then scampered off to his Baba’s bedroom so he could find Richard to give him a hug.

-

It wouldn’t be until another 2 more weeks after that, that Drake would break in.

-

Chapter Text

-

Perhaps it was because Tim was used to climbing through fire escapes, or maybe he just had a hunch that Damian wouldn’t open the door for him when he knocked. Either way, Tim found himself disabling all the locks, disarming the security system and then sliding in through the window into a darkened apartment.

Tim looked around, immediately taking in the silence and the fact that the lights were all off. He had a brief worry that he was too late and that Damian and Dick had already left, but after taking two steps into the apartment a familiar short figure immediately came prowling out of one of the closed room doors and stalked towards him.

“Drake.” Damian hissed, his brows furrowed “What the hell do you think you’re doing here? Get out!”

Tim raised an eyebrow over Damian’s whispering, but was non-pulsed in his answer as he matched his low volume. “I told you, I need to talk to Dick.”

Damian scowled and attempted to pushed him back, as though trying to usher him towards the window in which he came. “And what makes you think he is here?”

“Because you are here.” Tim answered honestly.

Damian paused for a moment, a look of surprise and then pride flashing in his eyes before it was gone back to cold. “Even if that is true, what right do you have to speak to him after the way you treated him. You do not deserve to see him! Now leave! You are not welcome here.”

Tim sucked in a breath but answered steadily. “I know. You’re right. I was awful to Dick and didn’t give him the time of day. But that’s why I’m here. I want- no, I need to apologize to him.” Tim was nothing but sincere but there was a strong imploring in his gaze that couldn’t be hidden.

The trip to find Damian had done nothing to calm his frantic worrying and the footage from the video was still repeating in his head. After everything he saw, Tim desperately needed to see Dick with his own eyes so the fact that Dick was simply a few feet away and he had to waste time explaining himself to Damian was driving him crazy! Especially because if Tim really wanted to, he knew he could easily shove past Damian. He didn’t need to stand there and try to convince Damian of anything nor get his permission to see his own brother.

But, coming here was as much of an apology to his youngest brother as it was to his eldest. Tim had missed having Damian around and knew that he only had himself to blame for ruining their closeness. He knew the only way to start on repairing what they built was to show his sincerity in making amends to Dick first. Including acknowledging the fact that Damian had been there for Dick all this time when Tim hadn’t.

So Tim shoved down any impatience and instead met Damian’s cold gaze steadily. “I’m not expecting him to forgive me, I just want him to know that I’m sorry and that I’m going to be there for whatever he needs from me.”

Damian narrowed his eyes and Tim could practically see the thoughts wrestling through his brain. The old Damian; who was selfish and petty would have still refused him. But the Damian that Tim had gotten to know, the one that Tim knew would put Dick’s wants above his own, he would put his own anger at Tim aside if there was even a chance that Tim’s apology to Dick would bring Dick some semblance of peace.

Tim could see the exact moment Damian came to the same conclusion as he let out a soft sigh of resignation, his shoulders slumping for a millisecond before his hackles were raised once more and the protective glare was back on his face. “Be that as it may, you cannot see him right now. He has a migraine and I will not have you interrupting his rest. So be sure to keep your voice down.”

Tim blinked, not seeing any trace of a lie in his words. It would certainly explain the darkened room and the way Damian had refused to raise his voice above a whisper during this entire conversation.

Tim’s worry over Dick’s condition immediately shot up another notch. “Does he get migraines often?”

Damian gave him another glowering look. “He has been getting them ever since his return. I cannot say whether it is another side effect from whatever was done to him during his time away, or whether it is a lasting symptom due to having his heart stopped.”

Even as Tim filed that information for later, (and wanted to desperately demand what other side effects Damian was talking about when he had implied there were plural,) having Damian speak about Dick’s death so plainly had Tim’s knees nearly buckling, and in an instant he had his hands on Damian’s shoulders. “So you know? You know that his heart was really stopped? You got the email today as well!”

“Drake! Unhand me!” Damian snarled, immediately knocking Tim’s hands off of him. “I do not know what email you are referring to but I know about what happened because unlike you, I was actually willing to talk to him— A basic courtesy that you failed to do.”

Tim couldn’t even blink at the insult, too busy digesting what that meant if Damian didn’t receive an email. Was it just Tim who had gotten it? What about Jason? And more importantly than that: “So you know because he told you?”

Damian gave him an unimpressed look. “Yes Drake. That is how a conversation works. He may not have said things outright but it was not hard to figure out that his death was not truly faked.” With a look full of scorn towards Tim for not figuring it out sooner, and worse; not trusting Dick and believing in him enough to even attempt to hold a simple conversation with him, Damian looked ready to stab Tim once more.

Tim stared at him for a moment and then let out a self-depreciative smile that boarded on awe towards Damian. “You never even doubted him for a second, did you?” It was rhetorical, they both knew he didn’t. Which only further exemplified Tim’s respect for him. “When he first came back I thought he had faked his death but you never doubted him.”

Damian’s frown was more pronounced as though he was having to explain things to someone particularly idiotic. “…The only time Richard lies to us is when he is hurt but trying to convince us that he is fine. If he was saying that he suddenly faked his death, it was obvious that the same principle applied. Meaning it was a lie to cover up that he did not, and was therefore not in fact ‘fine’. Really Drake, this is basic deduction. And you call yourself the detective.” Damian scoffed.

It was obvious Damian was hoping to strike a nerve, and that while they both knew there was a good chance Dick would be willing to forgive and forget, Damian would not be letting this go so easily. (He never did have any qualms about attempting to put anyone in their place on Dick’s behalf.) And frankly Tim didn’t have anything to say in his defense because Damian was right. Apparently his baby brother had figured out the truth and that was without the help of any cave footage confession.

“You’re right. I was too blinded by my feelings and didn’t see what was right in front of me. I know it’s too late to take back what I did and how I treated Dick but I can at least make sure that going forward he knows that he has my support.”

Damian ground his teeth, and Tim half expected him to snarl out that Tim’s support wasn’t needed or to attempt to stab him, but surprisingly the youngest did not reach for any of his weapons, instead he took a calming breath, muttering under his breath something that sounded similar to “Remember this is for Richard’s sake.” as he visibly seemed to force himself to calm down and not act on his disappointment or anger as he addressed Tim. “Next time keep in mind that even if he had faked his death, it is Richard. He would not do anything without good reason and without our safety at heart as his primary goal. You will do well not to forget the kind of person he is and has always been.”

Tim thought Damian’s choice of words was actually really sweet of him, and it just went to show that Damian was indeed willing to accept Tim’s presence back into his life so long as it was for Dick’s benefit. (Even though Damian’s next words were gritted out through clenched teeth.) “Since I will not allow you to disturb Richard while he is resting you may make yourself useful. We were supposed to go grocery shopping before the migraine hit and Richard will need his nutrients.”

Tim blinked at the sudden task being thrown at him but a glance at the small kitchenette a little further into the studio made sense to Damian’s dilemma. If they were planning on going to the supermarket then they were probably out of food and there was no way Damian would have wanted to leave Richard alone to complete the chore on his own. They could have just ordered takeout but that would have probably been too heavy on Dick’s stomach if he’d been feeling sick and in pain all day.

Sure enough, Damian continued “Richard will require something light and digestible. It is hard for him to keep anything down even after the migraines subsides. I was planning on making him soup.” There was a light blush on Damian’s cheeks, as though he felt shy in admitting that he wanted to cook something personal for Richard when Tim could assume it was usually the other way around.

To his credit, Tim didn’t comment anything on it and just nodded. “Got it. I’ll get some healthy ingredients that are known to help with migraines.” In his head he was already going over every remedy and article he had ever read about migraines, categorizing what would be best and wondering whether what Dick was experiencing was bad enough to warrant prescription medication for it. Especially because Damian’s harsh reminder that Dick’s heart had literally stopped for who knows how long immediately sent Tim’s own heartbeat into an erratic frenzy. Flatlining was a serious manner and Tim could only imagine all the havoc it might have wreaked on Dick’s body. He hadn’t even thought to check all the worrisome long-term side effects something like that could cause!  Tim couldn’t believe how uncaring he had been all this time; he should have been keeping an eye on Dick from the beginning! It’s good that Damian had been with him but how would Damian even know what to look for? What to monitor if Dick had been hiding any adverse side effects from him?

It only further solidified Tim’s determination to be there for Dick from now on.

Damian’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Well what are you waiting for standing around and looking like an idiot? Go do what I told you and then we shall see if you are worthy of speaking to Richard or not.”

Tim didn’t bother responding to the taunt with even an eye-roll, he merely turned around to slip back out the window to head as fast as possible to the nearest supermarket. Granted ingredient shopping and cooking was definitely more of Jason’s forte, (And where the hell was Jason right now anyway?! his messages were still unanswered!) —but at least doing the shopping gave Tim something he could actually do to help even if it was in some small insignificant way. Tim had always felt jittery when not being able to solve a problem.

…Come to think of it, Damian already knew that about him. That was probably why he sent him out to get this done in the first place. Tim felt a bittersweet smile tug at his lips at the thoughtfulness of his baby brother despite Damian still being so angry with him. It was only a further reminder to him that Tim had failed not one, but two brothers.

Looks like it wouldn’t only be Dick who Tim needed to make things up with. Maybe if he didn’t fuck up badly enough he’d even get to hear a ‘Timothy’ from Damian’s cutely indignant voice again instead of that distant last name he was starting to hate.

-

Damian stood there watching with arms crossed like a little guard dog as Timothy left the apartment. He could only hope that his conversation had gotten through the imbecile and that Timothy understood how foolish he had been towards Richard. This wasn’t even about being the superior Robin with his deduction skills, this was about how Timothy did not even try to communicate with Richard before freezing him out when he had done nothing wrong! His Baba had always been kind to Timothy, to everyone! And yet Timothy believed nothing but the worst of him. Unacceptable… unforgivable! Damian was seething and if it was up to him, he would make sure neither of his brothers ever saw Richard again if all they did was cause him pain!

But…this… this wasn’t about him. This is what would be best for Richard. Richard who was doing worryingly unwell, and whom Damian just wanted to see smile. And not the fake ‘everything is fine you don’t need to worry about me’ smile, but a genuine one. (Damian would do anything for his Baba’s smile.)

And so the two sides on whether or not to let his brothers get involved with Dick raged war with each other in his head. On one hand, Damian was perfectly capable of taking care of Richard himself. He was still furious with his brothers treatment of Richard, and hadn’t yet forgiven them for it. He felt proud that he had been the only one who had stayed by Richard’s side and didn’t want or need anyone else getting in the way of that, it had always been just him and Richard- Batman and Robin, Baba and his son. When it was just the pair of them, it worked. So Damian despised the idea of someone coming in the way of that and changing the dynamics. He didn’t want to share.

But on the other hand, what Damian had not foreseen was that being there in his living space when it was just the two of them had Richard instinctively falling back into the natural way they had navigated around each other during their time living together in the penthouse. And perhaps if these were not eventuating circumstances, this would have been a good thing. But things were not the same as back then and Damian wished Richard would feel comfortable acknowledging that and accept that it was okay that it wasn’t. Damian had expected that Richard might try to be strong in front of him, but he had not accounted for Richard to completely ignore his condition, and worse; kept pushing himself due to Damian’s presence.

Because by this point it was quite obvious that Richard was not doing very well. However no matter how much Damian insisted that Richard need not hide this from him, Richard still kept doing his annoying habit when he pretended to be fine. It wasn’t that Dick did not trust Damian to be vulnerable in front of him, he did. It was that even when he was looking worse and worse and should have been spending the day resting and getting better, Richard would still place a smile on his face and insist he and Damian spend some quality bonding time doing something “fun.” Richard would still act like he had the energy to stand despite looking close to collapsing and offer to take Damian out somewhere so that he wouldn’t feel cooped up indoors. Richard would still make all of Damian’s meals for him from scratch because “growing baby bats needed to eat well” despite barely being able to stomach eating anything himself.

Damian didn’t need Richard to put on a brave face and act like everything was well and good when he was clearly sick and in pain. Damian would so much rather Richard be honest with him and inform Damian that he was hurting and let him help! And yet it seemed the only times Richard was honest about how he was actually feeling, was when he was in such a bad way and barely coherent that he had no other choice but to rely on Damian. And even then, it seemed like the most ‘help’ Richard was receptive to receiving from Damian was hugging him. It was infuriating! Damian was not a child to be coddled, he could do so much more for Richard than simply being by his side when he got sad or scared.

Richard had just come back from a horrible ordeal and was clearly still suffering from it and all Damian wanted was two things. The first was to gut everyone who dared to hurt his Baba and cleave them in two! And the second was to help his Baba feel better.

But it seemed that as much as Richard was willing to let his guard down around Damian, he was still hesitant to let himself be taken care of.

Richard opened up to Damian about a lot of things, and Damian was confident that he understood Richard much better than anyone else, just like Richard understood Damian best out of everyone. Which was why even though Richard had not outright said anything, Damian could tell that Richard did not want to be seen as a burden. It was a fear they had once shared in common. But while Damian had been able to overcome that fear thanks to Richard’s love and patience when he had first taken him in, Richard still seemed trapped in that mindset even though it couldn’t be further from the truth. (Damian loved his Baba, how could his Baba think he could ever be seen as a burden?!)

This was where Damian’s siblings came in to his plan. Because if Damian alone wasn’t enough to convince Richard to relax and receive care, then perhaps hearing it from multiple sources would finally get it through his foolish head.

That, and Damian knew that Richard missed his brothers. Not as much as he would miss Damian naturally! But. It would probably make Richard happier to see Timothy and Jason again which was the only reason Damian didn’t kick Timothy out when he showed up out of the blue. Because this wasn’t about any of Damian’s personal feelings. This was for Richard. Damian could suck it up if it meant Richard would feel better. Damian was willing to do anything for Richard. ’But Timothy is on thin ice! If he makes Baba upset I will not hesitate to impale him and refuse to let him near Richard again!’ Damian thought to himself viciously.

Timothy had at least seemed sincere in recognising the error in his ways and willing to grovel to his Baba however, so the chances that he would cause trouble were slim.

That only left his second brother to come to his senses. Because as much as having Timothy here might brighten Richard’s spirits, it would cheer Richard up even more to have all his brothers with him. If Jason were to agree to apologise and come for a visit too, he was sure Richard would perk up. There were few things in the world Richard adored more than a cuddle pile with all his siblings.  And… maybe a part of Damian hoped Jason and Timothy would go back to acting how they were before when things felt less awful between them. Maybe Damian missed them a little too.

But this was all banking on the hope that seeing his brothers wouldn’t simply make things worse for Richard. Because Damian had already seen the adverse effect their cold and callous words and actions had done to Richard’s health in the first place! Every time they had ignored him, insulted him, or snapped at him, Damian had to watch Richard wilt; as though a fragment of himself had just been gouged out despite having so few pieces of himself left to hold itself together.

During those moments, Richard’s body language had all but screamed how hurt he felt, even though he would brush it off and took their cruelty without a word of complaint. It made Damian’s blood boil. And if anyone said anything to upset Richard again… Damian really couldn’t be held responsible for what he was going to do about it. Because the longer their bad attitude towards Richard continued, the worse Richard’s episodes seemed to get. Damian was starting to get afraid that one of these days he wouldn’t be able to snap him out of it! This had to stop!

And if they didn’t… well, then they could forget about getting within close distance of his Baba. Thankfully it had already had seemed to make a difference once Damian finally convinced Richard to stop seeking them out on patrol. Damian would not let them near him when his Baba needed gentleness right now.

Especially because Damian had noticed how much more Richard had been craving physical contact lately. It made sense to Damian; Richard had always been… clingy (though the words Richard would use to call it would be ‘tactile’), and so Damian simply assumed Richard hadn’t had anyone to hug during the entirety of his undercover mission and wanted to make up for loss time. Damian didn’t mind, (would even secretly admit to the warm feeling of being wrapped up in his arms as being pleasant,) but this was about Richard’s enjoyment, not his own.

(And though Damian loathed to share Richard’s affection with anyone else, Damian was not sure he was able to give as much contact as Richard needed. Having more family around to offer a soft touch would be beneficial to Richard’s happiness and well being, so Damian would allow Timothy and Jason to provide him the comfort that his Baba required if they proved that they could behave themselves and correct their previous transgressions with Richard.)

Especially considering that Damian had a strong feeling that the light explanation Richard had given about why he was being a little more “cuddly” was not the whole truth. There was definitely something more going on to this. Damian could see it in the way Richard’s hand would tremble until Damian would gently take it in his own. He would see it in the way Richard would sometimes go completely rigid when he sat on the couch, his entire body tight with tension unless Damian would lean softly into his side. He could see it in the way that Richard had never been shy with physical affection before yet now he seemed oddly hesitant to reach out for it, despite the way he would constantly melt once Damian initiated it himself.

All of it was odd and out of character and Damian was determined to get to the bottom of it.

But that could wait till later. For now Damian tiptoed silently back into the main bedroom of the safehouse, content on staying with Richard until he felt better.

-

Tim slid back in through the window a short while later, arms ladened with heavy bags from the local supermarket as he tried to put them down as quietly as possible. The room was still as dark as before so Tim took extra care to move around silently as he made his way to the small kitchen and started putting things away. He wasn’t sure if Dick still had his migraine but from the tells Damian had shown, it seemed like it had already been going on for a while (possibly days before Tim got there), which while awful, hopefully meant that Dick was on the tail end of it. Damian must have at least had some inkling that Dick would be coming out of it soon if he assumed he’d be well enough to eat something.

Tim briefly considered cooking something for Dick (Tim really wasn’t much of a cook himself and was more of a boiling water for ramen noodles kind of guy, but he could probably manage something simple.) However that earnest look on Damian’s face when he had mentioned wanting to personally make Dick soup stopped Tim from taking any further initiative to steal his thunder. Besides, if Dick was resting he wasn’t going to risk rousing him with the clanging of a pot or the chopping of vegetables.

Tim moved mechanically and busied himself for a few minutes trying to keep the thoughts of the video footage at bay, but once everything he had bought was tucked neatly away, he couldn’t stop the anxious fluttering in his stomach from rising any longer. He needed to check on Dick. That was the whole reason he had come here after all, and now that he had done Damian’s little task, he wasn’t waiting any longer.

So silently creeping to the only door in the cramped space that he assumed was leading to the bedroom, Tim promised himself he wasn’t going to bother Dick or even had to talk to him right now, all he wanted to do was see that he was okay with his own eyes. Because the only thing that had been running on a loop in his head was the look of anguish on Dick’s face.

Tim should have expected Damian would be in there too, especially when he hadn’t seen him out in the living room (the safehouse was a small one, there really wasn’t very many places anyone could go.) But it still somehow caught Tim off guard when he cracked the door open to peer inside and saw Damian leaning over a blanket-covered lump on the bed.

Once Tim got used to seeing through the dim lighting, he had to control the hitch that almost took place in his breath as he recognised the lump to be Dick. Dick had curled his body as small as possible, tear stains streaking his face as Damian patiently held his hand over his small chest, presumably so that Dick could feel his heart.

The youngest seemed so occupied with calming Dick down, neither occupants in the room even seemed to notice Tim peeking in; a fact that was a true testament to how distraught and distracted they were when normally their senses were incredibly sensitive to anyone sneaking into their vicinity. Or maybe it was just the stealth that was in Tim’s blood. The way watching without being noticed or seen had come as easily as breathing since the very first day he held a camera in his hands and waited in the night to catch a glimpse of Batman.

So Tim observed as Damian spoke in soft murmurs; a gentle voice that Tim frankly never heard Damian use with anyone else before. Even the way he spoke to his pets didn’t sound like it had as much loving care. Tim didn’t even know Damian could sound like that as he eavesdropped on the conversation.

“Baba I am here. I promise. This is not a hallucination. You are here with me in a safe house. We are both safe and alive, see? Feel my heartbeat.”

Dick let out a fearful whimper, as though desperate to believe Damian’s words but so afraid that it wasn’t true. Damian wasn’t deterred, he just continued his soft whispers. “Everything is okay Baba, I promise. I am not a ghost, I will not disappear if you close your eyes.”

After a little more coaxing for Dick to come down from the nightmare or flashback or whatever panicked episode Tim had walked in on that was apparently something that happened frequent enough for Damian to know exactly how to handle it, Dick finally spoke “Dami?” His voice sounded so small and unsure yet so achingly hopeful it was heartbreaking. Dick opened his arms and Damian instantly let himself be pulled towards Dick’s chest as Dick buried his face in Damian’s hair, shaking with silent sobs.

Feeling like an outsider intruding on a private scene, Tim quietly made to close the door and back out of the room, but not before the end of the conversation accidentally reached his ears.

“I will watch over you while you sleep. You are safe.” Damian implored, worry in his tone as he let himself be maneuvered to have his head tucked under Dick’s chin as he snuggled against him. “I will guard you, no one will hurt either of us. I will not allow it.” He added, aware that Dick was more distraught over the thought of something happening to Damian than to himself. “ But Richard, you must rest.” Damian pleaded, a thread of desperation not quite as hidden as he probably would have liked “Please… for me. …I cannot stand to see you in such poor condition.”

“I’m sorry Dami.. i’m trying.” Dick whispered, ashamed. He turned his face as though to hide the remnants of lone tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Hush, you have no reason to apologise. Try to sleep for now. I know it helps when you have someone with you. So I will stay here and.. you may continue to hug me.” Though the lights were off there was no mistaking the would-be blush in Damian’s words as he let himself be cuddled and pretended not to enjoy it.

Their quiet words of comfort being whispered to each other continued as Tim shut the door and made to sit on the only couch in the living room, squeezing his eyes shut as he tilted his head to rest against the back of the seat. It felt like his heart was in a vice-grip. If seeing Dick was supposed to calm him down it only did the opposite. It was one thing to see his distress on the screen, but to witness it firsthand right in front of him and be powerless to do anything to help his pain… nothing hurt more than seeing his brother struggling like that. Tim may not be good with emotional comfort, but seeing Dick who was usually the figure of confidence and strength look so small and sad… all Tim wanted to do was go to him and offer his love and support.

But Tim didn’t have the right. Not after the way he had treated him. Not until he apologised and earned his forgiveness.

With the need to make himself useful and do something… anything to help make things better for Dick, Tim looked for a laptop lying around and immediately got to work doing what he did best. Gathering information.

…He did not like what he found.

-

Tim wasn’t sure how much time had passed, he had gotten lost in his fixation on finding out everything he could about Dick’s situation. (Naturally this meant digging through old records of contact between Dick and Bruce during Dick’s time away, scrounging for any information on Spyral through Dick’s reports to try and figure out what they might have done to him, re-watching that damning email video yet again, and then the video of Dick’s death because Tim apparently liked to torture himself- and hacking through Dick’s medical files to try and determine what symptoms and side effects Tim would need to look out for seeing as how he was already extremely concerned after what he had overheard Damian telling him.)

Looking through all this private information may not have been the most ethical, but Tim had already gone off the deep end by this point, there was no turning back now. So long as it would aid in him being able to predict Dick’s needs, Tim would deem it worth it. Or at least it better be. Because if he didn’t find some way to be useful to Dick he felt like he was going to start screaming. As it was, he felt like he was only keeping calm by channelling all his upset emotions into his hacking and the compiling of information. Because when his feelings felt too overwhelming to deal with, it was always easier for Tim to fall back onto logic.

So Tim keeps analysing, and he doesn’t like what he finds. A cold protective wave of glacial fury coursed through him as he started to put together several theories of what happened to Dick, the picture unfolding in his mind in a way that makes Tim near certain his hypothesis are correct. And if that’s true then Tim is going to destroy some lives.

Tim doesn’t kill. Not because he thinks he is incapable of doing so, but because he feels that granting death would be the easy way out. It’s final, freeing. It’s giving peace to someone who does not yet deserve to escape punishment. Sometimes being forced to keep living and face the consequences of gaining Tim’s hatred, can cause much more damage than letting someone escape him through the confines of death. Because when Tim truly wants to make someone suffer, no one can stop him. Tim can think of plenty of different ways to drive a person to complete ruin. To dismantle all they have built. To cause whatever brought them even an inch of happiness to cease existing. There is no line too far he is not willing to cross. He would conquer the entire world, if that was what it took to bring all of Dick’s perpetrators down. Tim can break them. Not through something as crass as physical pain, but psychologically. Until they’re regretting ever being born. Until they’re wishing they had never dared to harm Dick Grayson. Until they’re begging for death- to which Tim will refuse to grant it to them. Because they should have known better that Tim’s brothers are off limits, and doing something to any of them guarantees a one-way ticket to a hell of Tim’s own making. They cannot fathom what they have unleashed upon themselves by eliciting Tim’s animosity. Tim will destroy their lives and take away everything they ever held dear. He will tear their world apart and bring forth their own personal apocalypse, and then watch as everything they’ve worked towards goes up in flames. It is a promise.

Tim’s calculating gaze was ice cold as he started to put a few plans together on exactly how he could go about accomplishing this to make certain individuals he held accountable pay—

—but is interrupted from proceeding any further when the sound of a bedroom door creaking opening caught his attention. Immediately his plans of revenge are placed on pause so he could focus on what’s more important: Dick. (Tim wouldn’t have moved forward on any revenge without first confirming his suspicions on what happened in the first place anyway. And that wouldn’t happen until he heard it from Dick directly.)

Tim quickly moved the laptop shut. All his earlier researching had thankfully burned through most of his jittery excess energy, so Tim felt like he would be able to face Dick without cracking and showing any emotions on his face that would only make Dick feel worse. (Dick had always hated when anyone gave him pity or sympathy… it was something all the bats had in common.)

Which meant Tim was able to look Dick in the eye when he came out of the room and hopefully hide the despair off his face when he took his eldest brother in.

Dick looked… not good. And as Tim scanned him, his analytic brain couldn’t help but provide him with all sorts of awful conclusions as he took in the state of Dick’s perpetually exhausted body. The most notable being the way he carried himself. He looked like a fragile shell of his former self and it made Tim’s heart ache for him. Along with the obvious weight loss, dark smudges under his eyes and sickly pallor of his skin, Dick looked so shaky a gust of wind could blow him over. ’Even if he had been in the suit, How could I not have noticed his condition when I last saw him out as Nightwing?’ Tim internally yelled at himself. His guilt only increased when the answer swiftly came to him; it was because he hadn’t been looking at Nightwing at all… the last time he had been around, Tim had been completely ignoring him.

Swallowing down the nausea that threatened to overtake him, Tim tried to to focus on what he could do now to make up for it (though he also knew himself well enough to be sure that he would privately be torturing himself over his failure to Dick for a long time to come.)

Dick for his part, hadn’t seemed to notice Tim yet. He shuffled towards the kitchen on unsteady legs, Damian hovering close by incase he needed to steady him.

Tim wasn’t sure if it was a noise he had made; a tiny little exhale or a slight shift on the couch, but whatever he had done to draw attention to himself and alert Dick of his presence was enough for everything to change in a split second. Faster than Tim had ever seen before, faster than he had ever witnessed Nightwing move, Dick was suddenly whirling around to face him, a kitchen knife appearing in his hands as if it had materialized in his grasp. Gone was any of the wavering he had been showing before, instead there was a sharpness to Dick’s fluid movements as though he had moved completely instinctively to be poised for a deadly strike.

A chill ran down Tim’s back as he noted that if Damian hadn’t darted in front of Dick right in that second and gently grasped Dick’s wrist before he could make any further movements, he had a feeling that knife would have gone flying to it’s target in a perfect bullseye. And for that split second, Dick had been looking towards Tim like he was an enemy.

Tim didn’t dare make any sudden motions, and he could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his back. It was Damian’s voice who broke the frozen stand off in a surprisingly soothing tone.

“It is okay Richard, it is just Timothy. No one is here to hurt us. We are safe. Furthermore I will not let anyone hurt you remember? I will protect you, I promise.”

It certainly didn’t seem like Dick was in need of any protecting with the way he had been ready to attack, but Tim still kept his expression calm, and now that his surprise had worn off, he took in the glazed look in Dick’s blue eyes, and the way his chest was heaving rapidly for breath as though he was close to hyperventilating. Tim instantly felt himself untense. It wasn’t that Dick had been so angry with him that he wanted to attack him, he was just spooked and had mistook him for someone else. His reaction must have been ingrained from his time at Spyral.

“…Timmy..?” Dick asked quietly, blinking rapidly and placing the knife down so he could rub his eyes. “You’re really here..? You came to see me?” A look of disbelief coupled with a hopeful smile lit up his face. But there was hesitation as well, as though he couldn’t fathom that to be the real reason Tim was there. Tim had to fight down a wince. Dick clearly didn’t think much of him right now.

(Another thing Tim couldn’t help but notice was that Dick hadn’t acknowledged what had happened mere moments ago with the knife when it was normally the sort of thing Dick would be tripping over himself to apologise over even though nothing had actually gone far enough to happen. It wasn’t that Tim wasn’t fine with brushing the whole incident aside, it was that he had a feeling that Dick hadn’t even been aware of his own actions. Though he was lucid now, he had looked completely checked out when he had grabbed the knife and Tim was worried about how often that sort of thing happened.)

’One step at a time.’ He reminded himself firmly, deciding there were more important things to bring up first.

By then, Dick had seemingly gotten ahold of himself, and had quickly strode closer towards him. “Tim is everything okay? Is something wrong? Do you need my help with anything?” He asked worriedly. The ’Why else would you have come?’ wasn’t spoken aloud but it hung awkwardly in the air as Dick immediately fussed, going into big brother mode as easily as slipping into a second skin. Tim resisted the urge to frown. This was exactly the kind of thing that had Tim missing all the warning signs that Dick was hurting in the first place. Even though Dick was the one who should be fussed over, Dick would rather fall back into the role of protector then ever admit he wasn’t okay.

Tim resisted the urge to bite out that if Dick really trusted him then he didn’t need to pretend in front of him! Did Dick seriously think Tim would love him any less if he wasn’t the perfect and infallible older brother? It was like a punch to the gut when Tim realised that he probably did think that. Tim hadn’t ever given him much indication to think anything else. And suddenly all Tim could remember was every memory of Dick reaching out; of Dick ruffling his hair, of Dick throwing an arm around his shoulders, of Dick pulling him in for a hug, of Dick carting him off to bed when he stayed up too long, of Dick teasing him with his endless nicknames, of Dick beaming brightly and telling him how proud of him he was, of Dick never leaving without telling Tim he loved him.

In comparison, the amount of times Tim reached back out to Dick were far and in between. When Tim had been just getting used to the family he had been too shy, too quiet, too nervous, too starstruck. But what was his excuse once years passed and he truly became part of the family? Once he was completely confident of his place in Dick’s world and grew out of the anxious child he had once been, what exactly had Tim done to show his love for his brother? Because whatever it was hadn’t been enough. And he was starting to realise that all their interactions had always been based on Tim needing something from Dick, Tim going to Dick for help, or advice. When had Tim last offered to help Dick outside of just teaming up on patrol? When had he reached out just to check in on him? Or ask for them to meet up just because he missed him?

Because it wasn’t that Tim didn’t think about Dick or worry about him too. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to lighten his load when he had a lot on his plate, or want to spend more time with him. Tim had always cared about Dick. It was just that he was starting to understand that he hadn’t actually acted on it. He had only ever been in Dick’s orbit in the capacity of a younger brother. Tim hadn’t ever tried to establish himself at a deeper level as someone who could be Dick’s strength. Someone Dick could turn to when he was feeling down or needed a shoulder to cry on. Someone Dick could confide in and could trust to be there for him no questions asked. Someone to hold him up when he felt he could no longer stand.

Tim asked for reliance but then didn’t give Dick any reason to do so on a more personal level. If Dick meant what he said about wanting Red Robin to be like his equal, then it was high time for Tim to start acting like it outside of the costume. To show Dick how much he cared about him instead of taking it for granted that he already knew without him needing to say or do anything to remind him. (Because clearly Dick didn’t know.)

Feeling a burning behind his eyes which he furiously ignored and recognising that he had been silently lost in thought for a few moments too long and that Dick’s worrying had sky rocketed to the point where he looked seconds from wanting to check Tim over for a hidden injury, Tim gently placed his hands on Dick’s arms to still his fretting as he finally answered. “No, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Dick still looked confused but he nodded agreeably. “ ‘Course Tim, anything you need.” He told him softly but earnestly, as though Tim hadn’t been horrible to him this past month and still deserved Dick’s selfless willingness to help. (Tim felt like getting stabbed by that kitchen knife would have hurt a lot less than twisting blade of guilt piercing his chest as Dick continued speaking) “What is it that you want to talk to me about?”

Tim couldn’t help but notice the way Dick seemed a little reproachful, as though he expected Tim to want to start venting to him about ‘faking his death’ again, and wasn’t it funny how quickly things had changed? This morning Tim probably would have been more inclined to do exactly that, and yet now the mere thought made him want to be sick.

Sensing his hesitation, Dick offered “Do you want to talk here? Or did you want to go to the bedroom for a little more privacy? Sorry there’s not much else to go in this place.”

“Bedroom is fine.” Tim answered gratefully, though he couldn’t help shooting Damian a look as though he expected the youngest to protest.

To his surprise Damian seemed to be willing to give Tim his moment alone with Dick (Tim knew he made the right call telling his intentions to Damian first!) In fact Damian wasn’t even looking at them (though neither Dick nor Tim were naive enough to believe Damian didn’t have his attention on them for the first sign of a threat, even when he pretended to be occupied with examining all the fresh vegetables Tim had put in fridge.)

Evidently Damian was doing a pretty good job at pretending to be focused on cooking since Dick was immediately chiming “Dami we’ll be right back, but can you wait for us in the living room? Maybe watch some tv or something? You know I don’t like you in the kitchen unsupervised, you could get hurt…”

Damian gave Dick a very unimpressed look as he pulled out a small stool to stand on to reach the counter top (which Tim had to bite his lip not to laugh or comment on how adorable that was) as he then grabbed a chopping board. “Richard please. My skill at handling a knife can outrank even the highest ranked chef in those foolish cooking shows you like to watch.” Damian answered haughtily. And then as if to prove himself, he began cutting a carrot with a fancy flourish of extreme expertise and efficiency.

Dick gave a soft laugh. “Alright you got me there. Fine you can cut the ingredients but be careful please. And no using the stove without me to supervise.” He waited till Damian gave a huffy “Tt.” (which probably translated to his acquiescent,) and then turned back towards Tim. “Alright then, let’s go talk.”

-

By the time they had closed the door and got situated on the bed facing each other, Tim started fidgeting, picking at the fabric of his pants. He knew Dick didn’t deserve for this to be stalled any longer, but at the same time Tim suddenly didn’t know where to start. All those speeches he had come up with when he had pictured the way this was going to go in his head now seemed inadequate and dry. He wanted to show his sincerity but didn’t know how to express it.

Initially, Tim had been ready to immediately confess to watching the cave footage. Tim had wanted to cautiously but honestly explain the email he had received that morning. It didn’t seem right to keep it from Dick that he had witnessed what was clearly meant to be a private moment between him and Bruce; something that Dick had never expected for anyone else to see. But that was before Tim had seen how… well, fragile Dick seemed right now. Now Tim wasn’t sure Dick would be able to take it. It just didn’t look like he was in a good place and Tim was worried that finding out his personal vulnerabilities had been aired out without his knowledge or consent might just push him over the edge! It really didn’t feel like this was the right time to bring up any of what must be a horrible memory for Dick. So Tim decided he would wait for a better moment when Dick was doing better and just hope that for now Dick didn’t question Tim’s sudden change of heart.

Besides, the why he was doing this wasn’t the important part; Tim had come here to apologise to Dick and that was what mattered most.

There were a thousand words on Tim’s tongue, A thousand clever and eloquently spoken things he could have said to manipulate the conversation in his favour to gain Dick’s sympathy and forgiveness. And yet Tim didn’t even consider using any of it. Not when it came to Dick. Tim owed it to him to be genuine and only speak from his heart. And so in the end, the words simply tumbled out of him in a rush. There was no plan, no speech, no foresight on whether he was saying the wrong this. Just Tim’s raw clumsy words that felt so far from enough.

“Dick I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Tim valiantly met Dick’s eye to try and gauge what he was thinking, but he just looked confused. “Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for everything!” He blurted out, his words desperate and pleading as though he was choking on his own guilt. “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you. Sorry for believing that you lied. Sorry that I pushed you away and ignored you. Sorry that you d-died-“

Dick gave a sharp inhale, clearly surprised that Tim knew, but Tim was already in a tailspin before Dick could comment, his words coming out faster and faster as Tim pictured Dick’s expression on screen, as he thought about all the implications he had drawn from his research, as he thought about how Dick felt being sent on a mission all alone that he may not have even survived from, as he remembered the confession of Bruce hitting him-

Tim nearly couldn’t control himself from bursting into tears. Because there was so much more to apologise for and Dick didn’t know that Tim knew- “Dick I’m so sorry for all that I did and didn’t do! I shouldn’t have been so mean to you. I should have known something was wrong. I should have searched harder to find you instead of just accepting what I was told at face value. I don’t know why I didn’t. I should have been looking out for you!” Tears coloured his vision and he barely registered that the low pitiful sounding whine was coming from himself or that it felt like his throat was closing up in panic.

“Tim, Timmy, hey it’s okay, just breathe with me.” Dick was saying, his voice sounding far away despite being right in front of him. Dick didn’t waste any time taking Tim’s hand to press it over his own chest so that Tim could follow along his exaggerated breathing as Tim tried to stop hyperventilating. “Come on baby bird, deep slow breaths. Try to match mine okay? Good, just like that.” Dick encouraged, calmly guiding him through counting the seconds of inhaling, holding and then exhaling until Tim slowly calmed down with the familiar pattern. Memories of Dick helping Tim through similar panic attacks when he was younger and filled with constant anxiety flooded his mind, and for a moment Tim felt like he was right back there, like nothing had changed.

Shame and embarrassment welled in his stomach because this was exactly the sort of reason why Dick hadn’t come to him. Tim probably looked pathetic. Like he wouldn’t be able to handle anything Dick was dealing with. He couldn’t believe Dick had to be the one to calm him down when Tim should have been the one to do the reassuring!

Pulling his hand away from Dick as if he was burned, Tim ignored Dick’s question on whether he wanted to get some water for him to instead shakily get a hold of himself, attempting to force his heart rate to slow down from it’s current humming bird status through sheer force of will. He rubbed his eyes to wipe away any stray tears as he tried to apologise. “Sorry I-“

“Tim…” Dick interrupted softly, “It’s okay, you’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

And Tim knew Dick wasn’t just talking about his panic attack.

“No! No it’s not okay! None of this is okay! You came back and I acted like I didn’t even care! I was terrible to you!” Tim nearly yelled at him as he sniffled and tried not to cry again.

“Then I forgive you.” Dick told him simply, smiling at him so sweetly and easily, as though Tim had done nothing wrong at all.

And Tim… Tim didn’t know what to make of this feeling. There was the overhwelming feeling of relief, but… it almost seemed unfair of him to receive acceptance so quickly. Tim had been expecting Dick to yell at him, to snap at him to give him the cold shoulder. A part of him had hoped that maybe he would even be willing to tell him some of the things that had been spoken about in the footage, and even if he wouldn’t, at the very least Tim thought Dick would hold an honest conversation with him and admit to how he had really felt by Tim’s cruel actions. Tim thought Dick would tell him what Tim himself already knew; that Dick had been disappointed in him. That Tim should have tried harder to search for proof that he was still alive like the way he had searched for Bruce. Tim had failed Dick, and as much as he wanted to receive Dick’s forgiveness, it didn’t feel earned. On the contrary, something felt off about the entire way Dick was handling this.

And Tim nearly fell backwards off the bed when he realised what it was. That smile.. that look… all of it was a very familiar expression he must’ve seen on Dick a thousand times. It was his ‘big brother is here, everything is okay now’ smile. And if Tim hadn’t watched that video footage, he would have never known that there was anything wrong. He would have never been able to tell that that smile was a lie.

Tim’s breath was ragged in horror, and a bitter bruise grew larger on his heart. Because if not for everything he had seen this morning; and the way Dick had broken down about having to constantly play the part of infallible for his siblings, then Tim would have just continued to believe it. He would have done what he had always done and not bothered to look deeper to see all of Dick’s pain buried underneath.

But now that Tim knew, it couldn’t be more obvious. It was a mask. Dick was hurting and instead of making Tim feel worse, he selflessly chose to conceal it just so that he could console Tim instead.

Tim drew a long shaky breath as he tried not to hysterically think back to the years he’d seen Dick making the same expression. Just how long had he been wearing this mask and hiding his true feelings? When exactly did his real smile turn into this one? How long had Tim been blind to Dick’s suffering? How long had he been failing him?

“Dick… you know it’s okay if you’re still hurt or angry.” Tim said slowly, catching the millisecond of movement in the way Dick’s shoulders froze, as though Dick had caught himself before flinching and steeled himself instead.

“I’m not.” Dick assured him quickly, (too quickly.)

Tim stared at him sadly, wondering who Dick was really trying to convince; Tim or himself.

“Okay,” Tim told him gently, not refuting him. “I’m only saying that if you were, and that you weren’t ready to forgive me right away, I’d understand. I’m not going to leave you or give up on you just because you’re still feeling upset.”

This time Dick really did almost flinch. Tim felt his heart clench at the implication. Not over Dick still being upset with him (because that was well deserved,) but that Dick was so worried that Tim would just walk out of his life, that Dick didn’t even see himself as worthy of Tim taking time to make amends. Dick probably thought that this was his only chance to fix things and that if he showed even an ounce of hesitation then Tim would be unwilling to bother trying any further beyond this bare minimum.

Tim closed his eyes against the pain of his own shortcomings. His previous actions had clearly hurt Dick deeper than he thought if this was how he was now painted in Dick’s eyes.

Suddenly Tim couldn’t stand the thought of Dick thinking he didn’t care about him more than his own feelings for even a second longer. Acting on impulse, Tim surged forward to pull Dick into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t hug you and tell you how happy I am that you’re alive the second I saw you. I’m sorry there’s so much pressure on you to always be the older brother that you feel like you can’t let your walls down around me. I’m sorry I don’t tell you I love you enough but I do.”

“It’s okay Tim, I know you do. You don’t have to say it.” Dick replied after a moment, his voice thick with unshed tears as he hugged back.

But Tim just shook his head and kept hugging him until Dick slowly relaxed by increments and his forehead ended up tucked onto Tim’s shoulder. Because Tim had heard the slight hesitance in Dick’s voice in his answer, had felt the way his body had stiffened for just a second before melting into the embrace. And he knew that meant that Dick wasn’t sure about just how much he was loved after all. (How could Tim not understand, when the younger version of himself used to feel the same?)

It seemed almost insane for Dick to have such an absurd insecurity considering how hard they had all mourned him, but then Tim reminded himself that Dick hadn’t seen any of that. All he had seen was an unwelcoming family upon his return after months of being alone with no one trying to look for him. Of course Dick would have doubts after that!

Or maybe it had gone on even longer than that. Because surely Dick was used to being loved as Nightwing (and before that, Robin!) all his life, but what about when he was Dick Grayson? Wasn’t that why Dick had confessed to always trying to live up to the expectations people had of him? Did he feel that he was only loved when he donned a mask?

Whether or not this was true, Tim’s heart was already breaking over the even the smallest chance that it was.

Tim wouldn’t—couldn’t stand for this any longer. Actions always spoke louder than words and if Dick didn’t believe how much he was loved- specifically, how much Tim loved him- exactly how he was without him needing to put on any act, then from now on Tim would do all that he could to show him.

-

Chapter Text

-


? MONTHS PRIOR TO SPYRAL

.
.
.


The problem with the vigilante life, is that it fucks you up. No one gets into a heroic profession without having to inevitably witness or experience some traumatic things. And especially for those in the batfamily, the trauma tends to run to the extreme.

And Dick knows this intimately. He knows that he isn’t the only one who was hurting. He isn’t the only one who has dealt with things that shake him to his core. He isn’t the only one who is having a hard time with living normally after it.

Which is why Dick could never bring himself to share it with anyone. How could he talk about struggling, about the nightmares, about the panic attacks? How could he tell anyone about the fear and nausea, about the way it felt like a hand was constantly clawing at his chest, wrapping a fist around his heart and squeezing slowly? How could he explain that he sometimes felt like he was being suffocated? How could he, when he knew that his siblings were suffering from their own demons too?

No, Dick needed to be strong for them. He needed to be the person they could lean on, the person who they could rely on to be always be there. The one who they could count on to catch them when they fell.

Infallible.

(Even though Dick often felt anything but that.)

But he tries. For those he loves, he tries. Willingly, and wholeheartedly. Dick would give all of himself for them. (What else is he good for than that?)

But sometimes… sometimes those heavy feelings would sneak up on him. The ones that left him trembling and collapsing and reminded him exactly how broken he truly was.

Those are the days when Dick couldn’t breathe. The pressure on his shoulders so strong he felt like he was being dragged down into a murky abyss, air bubbles escaping his parted lips in a silent scream. He wasn’t just sinking, he was drowning. Choking on the expectations of the person he tried to be. While cutting himself open by the jagged pieces of himself he tried to ignore.

Those are the moments when the memories were too strong to endure. When the sounds of shrieking pierced his brain like bullets, and flashes of people he hadn’t been fast enough to save flicker behind his closed eyelids in a torturous reminder of all his failures. (Sometimes the screams were memories of his own shouts of pain, his throat raw and bloody underneath the facade of perceived strength.) When all he could taste was blood on his tongue. When all he could smell was burning flesh.

Sometimes, the reminder of how much he’d been hurt; of all the battered bruises, the snapped bones, the dozens of times he’d been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured- flutter through his mind like the wings of a bird trying to fly on broken wings. When a wavering voice whispers in his head “was it worth it?” Because Dick knows that his body is all he has to give. Every scar he obtained, every drop of blood he bled, every sacrifice he branded across his heart. It will alway be all for them, all for anyone who ever needed him to be their hero.

/do they see it?/

Did anyone notice how much of himself that he’s given out? When he was too exhausted to keep standing, when he has collapsed under the weight of his own self-worth? (He wondered when it was that sacrificing himself became his love-language.)

There was never a thank you, because he is Dick Grayson, and it has become accustomed of him to give every last drop of himself until he was completely wrung dry with nothing left.

/do you see me?/

But Dick is tired. So, so tired. One that goes far beyond bone-deep. It lingers in the echoes of the deepest recesses of his heart. His chest an empty cavern, yearning for solace from someone, anyone, to hear it’s silent screaming for someone to come save him.

/do you hear me?/

Dick wondered how much longer he could go on when he felt so close to falling apart. He wondered if anyone else noticed that he’d become as fragile as glass; broken pieces glued back together again one too many times, and one wrong move away from shattering.

But someone needs him. Someone always needs him. And so Dick Grayson shoves any weakness he’s feeling away and he gives and gives and gives. Even if it meant carving out his beating heart and giving it to the first person who asked for it. (No one seems to care of the condition it’s in when his heart is returned back to him after being thoroughly used.)

“It’s okay, I can handle it” His mind promised. “I’m breaking” his heart sobbed.

‘But it’s only sometimes.’ Dick insisted to himself (as he sways like a house of cards balancing precariously in the wind, one careless whisper away from crumpling-) It’s only sometimes, that he gets as bad as this.

But those times are becoming more frequent and lasting longer. The ache in his head growing in tandem to the empty hole in his chest. Clawing gouges continued to rip into him with every passing moment.

Dick managed to keep himself held together by an inner chant of ‘I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.’ (Because he has to be. There are no options for him to be less than that.)

Even so, Dick knew full well that this wasn’t sustainable. That it couldn’t go on indefinitely. That it wasn’t healthy to constantly feel on the verge of a mental collapse; of falling at the slightest push. He knew he should talk to someone about this. But who could he possibly dump all this on? Who could he possibly risk sharing his misery with?

It wasn’t that Dick didn’t know people. He had old friends; people who were once his precious teammates, friends he once saw as a second family. (He couldn’t see them that way anymore.) But he used to. Just as he used to think they would be willing to listen.

But the problem was that even when he tried to explain it to them, they could never fully understand the dynamics that came with being a bat. Of being part of the family. Of being part of the Batman legacy. Of being the first Robin. Of being the first one Bruce took home. Of being the eldest brother.

It means that Dick has certain responsibilities that he takes very seriously and would never give up. Duties that burn in conviction like a flame in his soul that he would always be there when he was needed. (He would never not put his family first. He would never miss being there when they needed him… not again. Not after getting Jason back.)

He’s tried to clarify it all to his old team before, but without all the messy context of everything Dick’s done in the name of family and what’s been done to him during his life being by Bruce’s side, without all of the backstory of what each of his siblings have been through, without revealing all the history that is simply too private and not his secrets to tell to an outsider on the dynamics of the way their family works… Well, his “friends” could never get the full picture.

Even before things had reached this level, during his anger-filled younger days whenever he had tried talking about smaller things that frustrated him or weighed down on him, instead of getting to vent about him, Dick ended up having to do the opposite of what he had gone to them for and defend Bruce and his choices the entire time because he couldn’t stand all the misunderstandings and wrongful assumptions his teammates had been drawing about him. This only continued as his family grew. His friends simply couldn’t understand the complicated but meaningful relationships he had built with all of his brothers: Threads tangled and pulled taught, but unbreakable. Bonds that are so full of love but born from pain and loss.

They didn’t understand that every member of his family has found one another and came together despite it sometimes feeling like fate itself was trying to tear them apart. They didn’t understand how much he adored them, how much they meant to him, that his siblings are and always will be his whole world.

They didn’t understand that despite everything Bruce had done to hurt him, Dick couldn’t help but still love him.

They didn’t understand Dick Grayson.

They only ever got to know a part of him, a version of him, the one that he allowed them to see.

’They don’t get it.’ Dick would tell himself in disappointment after the first few tries. And eventually, he stopped bothering to try to explain altogether. Not when they would get frustrated or roll their eyes or complain that he was always doing things for Batman. So Dick learnt his lesson, he could talk to his friends about some things, but other things… things about the Batman and Robin side of things, things about his relationships with his family and how important it was to Dick to maintain them (even during moments when it caused him to put himself last) those topics became as off limits as the subject of Gotham itself. Dick learnt to keep that all to himself. And then he never stopped keeping it to himself.

But even leaving that part of his life out of it, there were sadly other things that he was unable to share with them too. And not for lack of trying.

Dick could never talk about what happened to him on that rainy rooftop, or how tortured he continued to feel over it. Not after the way his old teammates had handled the Mirage situation. (Their reactions had been unexpectedly cruel. But maybe…it’s because they thought Dick deserved it? Or maybe…they’re right and he really was a slut? Because why else would they turn on him for something like that?)

/don’t i deserve it?/

Then there was his stress on being Nightwing, of looking out for an entire city on his own.

Sometimes Dick remembered the things he’s done, the choices he’s made, the decisions he had been sure were the best possible option.

/but there was always another choice wasn’t there?/

If he had let himself be hurt worse in someone else’s place. If he had been faster, stronger, smarter and found a way to get there in time…

/i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry/

When Dick tried talking to his old team about his struggles on making hard decisions on the field, they understood to an extent, but usually that only reminded them of their own trauma or shortcomings. It made them recall the memories they’d rather move past and Dick didn’t want to upset them by making them think of it.

And even if they truly hadn’t minded, talking to them only ended up reminding Dick of his time being their leader, of the crushing weight of the choices he made still resting on his shoulders. (His fault his fault his fault) Every mistake, every irreversible consequence, every injury they received, every trauma, it was on him for not being a better leader to have thought of a better way to prevent it. They had all been his responsibility. (The rocks in his stomach grew heavier, it’s weight pulling him deeper downwards until he wondered if he’ll ever see the light again.)

So Dick couldn’t talk to them about any of that either. So he didn’t. And slowly those relationships he had once valued and treasured as his closest confidants all became distant. Even if it stung how easy it was for them to forget about him, he told himself it was for the best, that it was only natural that they drifted apart. Faded away. Moved on without him. (They’re all so much better off.) And he received confirmation of it whenever he saw how well they’re all doing now, that they’re all so much happier without him in their lives.

So Dick learnt it was best to keep things in instead of talking about it. He continued to smile, and made himself available to help if anyone needed anything from him, but he didn’t allow himself to let them in anymore. Even when he met new teammates, or new people came into in his life, he no longer had the same trust in being vulnerable in front of them. Dick had come to realise that like everyone else in his life, they expected a certain version of him and seeing anything less than that would only make them uncomfortable.

It was a little lonely, but Dick continued to remind himself it was better this way. (Even if it meant the false perfection he portrayed was eroding his insides like acid.)

Besides, Dick preferred spending time with his family. He’d always prefer his family. It probably came from his circus days, but family had always meant so much more to him than anyone understood. He used to believe the bonds he shared with family were the only ones that couldn’t possibly break. (So long as he didn’t give them reason to. So long as he doesn’t let anyone see that he was poison, that his family didn’t actually need him and truly never did.)

However… Dick had a role to play in the family. He is the eldest. He is the strong one. He is the one who helps everyone. He is the one everyone turns to. He is the one that carries them. Will shoulder their weight, will take on their burdens. He is the one who has to be unshakeable, dependable, a role model. He is their safety net under the trapeze bars.

(Even though it means Dick doesn’t have a safety net of his own.)

Because fulfilling the role of the person everyone looks to for aid meant that Dick couldn’t talk to them about any of his burdens. He couldn’t trouble them about everything that kept him up at night. Couldn’t let them see that he was constantly being smashed to pieces and falling apart. Couldn’t let them see how damaged he really was.

So in the end, Dick had no one but himself. (Unloved. Unwanted. Alone.)

/do you still love me?/

Dick didn’t have anyone to listen to him cry. To hold him. To take care of him when he was exhausted and in pain. Dick didn’t have anyone to be there for him. Not in the way he is there for everyone else.

Perhaps the worst part is that he knew he could have that. He knew his family cared for him and would be there in a heartbeat if he asked. But that only made his decision to hide everything easier; he didn’t want them to waste their time fretting over him when he was already a lost cause. Dick loves them too much to let them take any time or attention away from themselves and their own problems to focus on Dick instead. He isn’t worth it. (And he didn’t think he could bare to see their looks of disgust if they ever realised the person they looked up to had never been worthy of their admiration in the first place.)

The problem was that it was getting harder for Dick to keep the act going. Harder to let stray comments so inconsiderate towards him roll off his back like a joke, while the extra burdens he took on in their place went unnoticed. Harder to keep up with his quips and teasing. Harder to keep his smile. Harder to keep breathing.

It felt like every day there was another crack in his mask, every strained smile and forced laughter chipping it away like worn porcelain.

Dick wondered when he started living life in contradictions...

Dick loved his family but he hated himself.

Dick wanted everyone to take care of themselves but never counted himself in the same category.

Dick was the most cheerful person anyone could ever meet, but Dick was the most miserable he had ever felt.

And his family were starting to take notice. Dick had caught Damian sending him worried looks thinly veiled under a scowl. He had caught Tim narrowing his gaze slightly as though he was a puzzle that needed to be figured out. (He didn’t even want to know what Jason thought under that unreadable red helmet of his.)

But Dick didn’t want to worry them. So he doubled his efforts, widened his plastered smile, whispered false assurances that nothing was wrong and made pretty promises that he was fine. (Dick had always been a natural born performer, the only person he could never fool was himself.) He didn’t think he even knew how to stop this performance anymore. Not since his life became the stage and the show must go on.

If that meant he stopped being able to look in the mirror because even when he was out of costume he still felt like he was wearing a mask, then that was nobody’s business but his own.

After all, while he may have been spiraling downwards, he noticed proudly that everyone else seemed to be getting along better. His siblings were finally doing more talking than fighting and even his own relationship with Bruce had improved!

…But with it returned the crushing expectations. He didn’t want to disappoint him. He didn’t want to let him down. (He didn’t want him to know how weak he was.)

So after a grueling night of patrol, when Dick was slightly dissociative and particularly exhausted from days of no sleep whilst sore from fresh injuries, he still answered Bruce’s call to head from Blüdhaven to Gotham to attend a meeting in the cave. Apparently there was a big mission coming up he wanted all hands on deck for, and Bruce was declaring a mandatory briefing on it after gathering some new intel that (according to Bruce,) couldn’t wait till morning to go over.

So even though Dick was having a particularly bad night where every part of himself was aching to go home so he could curl up in his bed and break down in private, Dick couldn’t bring himself to decline. Not when it was already expected that he would be there. (Especially since, if he stopped being there when he was needed, if his family stopped wanting him, wouldn’t that make him even more worthless than he already was?)

Swallowing his complaints, his exhaustion, his pain, Dick allowed himself one single moment of vulnerability: closing his eyes for a mere second as an unbridled sob slipped out of his lips. It was weak and pathetic, just like he was. (At this point Dick fleetingly wondered how much longer he could go on before everyone finally realised he was a lost cause. That he was already far too broken beyond repair to be useful to anyone.)

However he at least managed to conceal his depressing thoughts and shove away all signs of any impending breakdowns by the time he arrived. Dick tried to psych himself up for another night of pretending to be fine as he all but dragged himself inside into the cave on heavy limbs.

He could get through this. It was just another typical night for him, no different from all the other ones.

So Dick focused on smiling and giving his greetings as he took a seat and tried to look like he was focusing and paying attention.

It worked until it didn’t.

His head was in a numbing fog, and even though he tried his best to seem attentive, it was a hassle to just keep himself from swaying in his seat.

Someone was talking to him, and Dick blinked slowly in their direction, mouth opening to respond on autopilot with his mind a million miles away. Even sitting still and surrounded by the people he loved most in this world, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from chartering towards dangerous waters. The presence of phantom touches invading his body like a burning vat of toxin, as unwanted as they were the first time they were forced upon him. (She wasn’t even dead and yet the ghost of her branding touch followed him everywhere.) Dick’s heart stuttered in fear and disgust, and logically he knew it was all in his head, that he was safe now, that She was far away from him. But it was like he was trapped in a living nightmare, everything floating away and turning fuzzy as he desperately tried to find something to ground himself to the present with. (If he couldn’t get ahold of himself soon, Dick was sure he’d end up in a panic attack.) But there was nothing strong enough to tether himself to, and Dick felt himself getting more and more dizzy and nauseous. For one horrible second, he was sure he was about to throw up right in his own lap.

He managed not to, but it did nothing to stop his spiraling overthinking as the panic of the memory changed into the panic of someone noticing his weak behavior. (Was his breathing normal right now? Could anyone tell he was about to faint?) Dick swallowed thickly, trying to take a subtle breath. He couldn’t quite manage to control his full body shiver, and distantly he heard someone leaning in closer to ask in a whisper if he was cold. “Grayson, do you require a blanket?”

Ah, that was Damian then. He was worrying his baby-bat. Guilt stabbed Dick like a sword impaling his weeping heart. And he instantly fought to try and control his facial expression into one of reassurance instead of blinding pain as he insisted he was fine. He wasn’t sure how convincing he was with the skeptical look he received in return, but before he could be questioned further Tim cleared his throat, and the guilt increased ten-fold. Tim had apparently been in the midst of explaining something that needed to be prepped for the mission and Dick hadn’t even been paying enough attention to say what it was. Dick knew his babybird had probably stayed up late preparing his notes for this, so Dick guiltily refused to let himself interrupt again. He sat up straighter, trying to project confidence and strength.

/there is no more strength left in me, a gust of wind could blow me away. all my feathers have been plucked from my wings one by one./

But as Tim finished his explanation and Bruce took over speaking, Dick found it hard to concentrate or remain steady. His eyes felt heavy, and with the fog curling around his brain he found himself nearly falling asleep inbetween long blinks.

“Dick?” The sound of his name snapped his attention back to awareness as he jerked his head up from where it had been tipping towards his chest. His veins turned to ice as he realised what had happened. Dick could feel the judgmental stares attacking him like arrows, almost as piercing as the disappointment he could hear in Bruce’s voice which was enough to caused Dick to nearly flinch. Especially when Bruce continued “Everyone else is taking this seriously.” The reprimand and implication that Dick wasn’t, hit him as hard as a crackling whip and Dick couldn’t help the sharp inhale. (It would have been kinder to have been slapped across the face, Dick thought. Anything was better than the razor sharp cut of ‘I expected more from you.’ which was all Dick could hear ringing through his bones.)

Stammered apologies fell profusely from his lips, even though he wanted to cry out that he had been trying harder than anyone-!

/but it was never enough was it? i will never be enough/

Dick was frozen under Bruce’s unimpressed gaze. And the stilted air felt tense and awkward in the room. It was made only worse when after a beat of silence where Tim and Damian were glaring at Bruce, did the elder seem to come to a new conclusion though no less disappointed. “Unless there is something else going on with you that you’d like to tell us. Are you hurt? I expect that you wouldn’t be so careless as to ignore an injury that requires attention.”

And Dick… Dick almost wanted to laugh. Because what was he supposed to say to that? How did he describe just how not okay and hurt he really was? This wasn’t the type of injury that he could just slap a bandage on and heal from the way they did with broken bones. How could he explain that he was broken in a much worse way that he wasn’t sure how to recover from, and that “hiding it” from the family was all he could do to avoid having to explain what was wrong with him when he didn’t even know himself.

The answer was that he couldn’t. He couldn’t say any of that. So Dick did what he did best, he deflected, and he put on another act. “No I’m fine, really. There’s nothing wrong. Just a little tired. It was a long day”

Dick should have known that would only spur on another reprimand as Bruce scrutinized him with more disapproval. “How tired? I thought I taught you better than to go into the field while compromised. It’s a liability and puts yourself and innocents at risk.”

Dick was too exhausted to even feel the familiar surge of anger at yet another mistaken implication of his inadequacy. Clearly nothing he did was enough to inspire anything out of Bruce that would paint Dick as something more than a failure. Dick didn’t have the energy to bother trying to argue with him about it. Not today. So it was with a sigh instead of gritted teeth that Dick clarified “I meant I was tired from patrol. Not that I went in while being off my game. I’m fine B. I probably should have thought to steal a sip or two from Timmy’s coffee before we got started but I’m good.” He added in an attempt to lighten the mood before meeting Bruce’s eye with as much sincerity as he could muster. “And I am taking this seriously, I promise. I’ll be taking point in our positions once we infiltrate right? How many people are we expecting to be there for the ambush?”

And just like that, Bruce was giving a grunt of approval and the attention was redirected back onto what was actually important. It was why they had all gathered there after all. (Well, everyone but Jason. He was the only one who never came running when Bruce called but Dick was sure Red Hood wouldn’t be too far away on the night of, just incase they needed backup. Jason was caring that way, even though he pretended not to be.) For now, everyone’s focus was thankfully back on the upcoming takedown, so Dick could go back to ignoring the buzzing in his head and the sting behind his eyes from constantly keeping his tears at bay.

He saw Tim silently but good naturedly slide his thermos of coffee his way, and Dick shot him a grateful look that he hoped Tim couldn’t see through. To really sell it, Dick even forced himself to swallow a mouthful of the liquid down into his empty stomach (and even managed to miraculously not instantly vomit it back up.) There were no more questions thrown his way after that.

The rest of the meeting passed by in a hazy blur but somehow Dick managed to get through it by controlling his shaky breaths with measured inhales. Dick thought he had been doing a good job of hiding that he was barely hanging by a thread. That he was free-falling every passing second, plummeting into the inky darkness that wrapped its intangible fingers around his throat like a noose, waiting for the moment he finally gave in.

/does anyone notice i’m drowning?/

And when he stood, he had already prepared himself to expect the room to be spinning, all he had to do was lock his quivering leg muscles and force himself to move just slow enough that he could pass off for calm and unhurried, hopefully without tilting too heavily sideways as he shuffled towards the change room.

Somehow, Dick managed to make it to the showers where he could finally strip off his Nightwing suit. And as he stood trembling under the hot stream of water, tears disguised under the falling rivulets of water, Dick pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and shuddered. He wondered if he was screaming or if that was just the chosen soundtrack his brain decided to keep on repeat in his head. He wondered if anyone could hear it. Or if they could hear the sound of his heart shrieking, of his bones creaking, of his soul shattering under the pressure that was constantly mounting around him.

Dick had never felt so fragile, and never felt so ashamed of being so. It felt like he was slowly but surely approaching the end of his rope, and that if no one pulled him back to the surface soon, the worn down string he was holding onto would snap in two and send him plummeting downwards with no return.

/how much longer until i can’t go on anymore?/

Dick finished his shower. Ignoring the dreaded mirror with practiced ease, (He didn’t think he would even recognise the reflection peering back at him anymore.) Dick got dressed in some comfy sweats and a soft loose shirt without any preamble and allowed himself a few calming breaths to try and keep himself held together before exiting the change room.

He almost ran into Alfred.

“Master Dick are you quite alright? You seem a bit unwell.”

Dick nearly flinched when that was the first thing that was commented on. Clearly Dick’s shower wasn’t nearly enough to convince anyone he was doing okay. But Dick had gotten good at handling questions like these. He smiled, perfectly practiced and gave his rehearsed answer “Yeah Alfie, I’m fine. It was just a long night.”

Alfred frowned in concern and Dick couldn’t tell if he loved or hated that the elder man wasn’t completely buying it. But Dick already knew that Alfred would let it go, because of course he would. Because he had been watching Bruce make similar self destructive choices all his life and he knew better than most that there was no forcing anyone in this family to speak or ask for help before they were ready to. “Then perhaps it would be best if you stayed here for the night.” Just as Dick predicted, Alfred offered a suggestion instead of calling him out on anything. “Your room has already been prepared.”

And Dick felt another crack in his mask take place as his expression stuttered. Because staying at the manor was the last thing he wanted to do when all he wanted was to go home where he could be without any watchful eyes and wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. Unfortunately before he could even come up with an excuse to get out of it and insist he leave, the voice of another spoke up first.

“Grayson are you staying?” Damian hadn’t left yet. He had been waiting for him in the cave, most likely waiting to say goodbye because he knew Dick wouldn’t want to stick around after these things. (Dick rarely did these days, and he tried to squash down the pang of guilt from not spending as much time with him recently.) 

All it took was that one question from Damian and Dick immediately felt all his resolve crumbling. Because his sweet little Dami was trying and failing to hide that hopeful look in his eyes, and Dick felt horrible for the way he had been avoiding him lately. (He really hadn’t meant to, he missed his baby-bat so much! But Damian was an incredibly smart kid, and Dick knew that the more he was around him, the more dishonest he would need to be about his state of wellbeing.) Dick hated lying to him. But he hated the thought of Damian not thinking Dick wanted to spend time with him even more.

There was really only one way to answer. “Yeah little D, I’ll stay.” Dick promised him. The hint of something genuine unfurling in his chest like a soothing balm to all the ache. Because even though Dick had felt cornered by Alfred and couldn’t really say no, and no matter how badly he had itched to be alone for a moment where he could drop all his masks- Dick would always love his family. So much.

/it is the only thing i am living for/

He loved them so much more than he loved himself.

And seeing the tiny smile curl on Damian’s lips even though he hid it quickly with a scowl and quiet tutting as he began lecturing Dick on making sure he was more well rested next time- made it all worth it.

Besides, it probably was for the best that he spent the night at the manor instead of risking taking his back bike. There was a high possibility he might have passed out before even making it back to his flat.

So after making plans to hang out with Damian tomorrow, Dick was feeling significantly better about his decision to stay.

It was really only once he was lying awake in bed and staring at the ceiling that Dick considered whether he shouldn’t have just left and come back to spend time with Damian in the morning instead of being stuck here all night where he had to consciously restrain any sounds of distress from being heard through his bedroom walls.

It was the same thing that happened every night, no matter where he tried to take his rest. Despite it feeling like every part of his body was so heavy in exhaustion he was entering delirium, Dick was unable to sleep. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had made it through the night.

Dick laid in his bed, the tremours he couldn’t control starting up again, as he stared blankly into the shadows of his room. (Every time he closed his eyes he could still feel her ontop of him. He could still feel her touching him. She didn’t listen when he told her no, so why would the ghost of her listen when he wanted these memories to go away?)

/i’m poison/


Is that why no one was willing to get close to him? (Is that why no one as bothering to try and save him?) Or was this just repentance; punishment for every failure and fuck up he’d done.


/poisonpoisonpoison/

Dick suddenly jolted upward, abruptly twisting on his side to throw up over the bed. The acidic taste of bile burned his throat as he hadn’t eaten again that day. There was nothing else to throw up but he couldn’t stop dry heaving. And soon the coughing and choked retching turned into painful sobs as he, as quietly as he could, broke to pieces yet again.

Dick was blindly grasping for any form of respite from the constant feeling of guilt, pressure, and anguish. But it was like he was trying to hold onto the thin tendrils of smoke. Even when it was within reach, all he could do was watch as it slipped through his fingers like mist.

Dick wasn’t sure how much time passed as he blinked stinging eyes and curled up into a miserable ball, but breathing didn’t come any easier and his wheezing and soft cries only increased. Dick needed… he needed to get out of here. He needed some air.

When he padded to his windowsill and slipped outside like he had done a hundred times during his childhood, he wasn’t thinking about anything else except his need to move. He was too exhausted to care that it felt a little like he was running away. (How laughable. As if it was possible to ever outrun the past which would always continue to haunt him.)

Needless to say, Dick really wasn’t in the best headspace as he started walking the streets of Gotham. (He determinedly stayed clear of any building rooftops this time considering the flashbacks he was trying to avoid.)

It was lucky that it was late enough that the first rays of dawn would start to break soon, not that that was enough to dissuade any muggers from targeting him if he wasn’t careful. (Though it wasn’t like he had anything on him worth stealing in the first place, Dick was still in his sleep clothes and house slippers, and had left in too much of a frantic panic to think about bringing his phone or wallet with him.) It was foolish. But Dick wasn’t thinking about that right now. His chest still felt tight as he clenched and unclenched his fists, his nails biting into his hands and leaving little crescent shaped moons in it’s place.

At first he was just walking aimlessly, trying to clear his head and not paying attention which direction he was going or having any sort of destination in mind. But Dick would be lying if he said that every part of him wasn’t still so desperate for some form of comfort. Perhaps that was why, in one last ditch effort to be okay, his feet started subconsciously taking him towards someone who might help him.

Ironic, that to find that person he was heading towards the most dangerous part of town.

Though it was unlikely that Jason would still be around, being how late it was he had probably already finished his patrol awhile ago and head home wherever that was. Still, Dick found himself walking the streets of Jason’s usual patrol route, the one that Dick had secretly memorised so that he would be able to discreetly check in on his little wing to make sure he was okay on nights that the news of his past death replayed over and over in Dick’s head on a torturous loop.

When Dick finally took notice of the familiar path he was walking on, he couldn’t help running a tired hand through his messy hair as he groaned in self-defeat. So this is what he was doing now… slinking through Crime Alley in the hopes that he might catch a glimpse of his younger brother. Or was it that he was hoping Jason would catch a glimpse of him, and would care enough to stop to talk to him, even if it was just to fight? He felt equal parts of shame and embarrassment bloom in the face of knowing he would just be bothering Jason either way. Was this what it came to? Had he stooped so low? Was he really that pathetic?

/yes, i always have been/

It took longer than he had anticipated considering he was walking instead of flying across the rooftops, but Dick hardly noticed how long he had been sluggishly trudging through the streets, nor the biting cold nipping at his neck and fingertips. His bare arms had already gone numb, and Dick really wasn’t in the right state of mind to care if he freezed eitherway.

Because even with his feet planted on the ground of the dirty narrow streets, he still felt like he was on the top of a building, wobbling on the edge of a ledge and staring down into a dark endless abyss. It’s waiting for his fall, beckoning him closer and closer. Yet still there’s a part of himself refusing to give up. The piece of him that is buried so deeply in the swirling darkness that surrounded the hollow chasm in his heart. One that is desperately still begging for survival despite all his pleads going unnoticed. A silenced echo far bellow the surface that’s still crying out to be heard.

/please please please please someone please look at me, see me, catch me, i’m falling please please please/

“What the fuck are you doing here looking like that? Are you looking to get shot or something Dickhead?”

Snapping his head up from where he had been lost in thought staring at the ground, for a moment the familiar modulated voice was so unexpected that Dick wondered if he was hallucinating. (It wouldn’t be the first time he had dreamt up images of his younger brother yelling at him, though admittedly the last time it happened had been under much different circumstances when he still thought Jason was dead.) This time it was much more likely that Jason was truly in front of him, but for his hopes to run into him have been realised so quickly still seemed too good to be true. Dick had to know, had to make sure this was all real and-!

“Hey, woah, take it easy.” Jason called out, steadying Dick as he stumbled in his effort to get closer to Jason. Dick’s body must’ve been holding out worse than he thought, since the moment Jason moved towards him, Dick was nearly falling into him, relying on his brother’s strength to help hold him up. His breath rattled and his blood pounding was causing a head-rush, but the moment he could feel the solid presence of Jason in front of him, Dick’s hands latched onto the heavy brown leather in relief.

Jason calmly stood there and accepted his clinging, waiting patiently for Dick to regain his balance before carefully letting him go and then simply stared at him impassively. Or at least that was what Dick assumed was the expression under the helmet.                   

But Dick didn’t mind. Because upon the confirmation that he was really there and that he wasn’t just imagined through pure desperation, a giddiness managed to stab through Dick’s earlier numbness. Jason had really found him after all! He was still dressed as Red Hood right now though, and the fact that he was still out meant that patrol must’ve run late. Dick tried not to frown as he worriedly and discreetly tried to discern if Jason had been hurt in any way.

He was sure Jason knew what he was doing and was probably rolling his eyes under that helmet, but surprisingly he didn’t start a fight or snap at him for it (Maybe because he was definitely doing the same thing to him and checking Dick for any injuries.) It made Dick wonder not for the first time, what Jason saw when he looked at him. (The silent pleading in his chest was building into a screaming crescendo)

/please please please please please help me/

Jason was calm and silent, giving nothing away to his thoughts but a closed-off stance. Even his earlier exclamations had seemed more for show incase anyone would overhear, rather than actual anger over Dick being there. But they all have their parts to play, and Dick would happily let Jason shoot a couple bullets at him if it meant Jason would humour Dick in letting him stay in his presence for just a little bit longer.

Jason doesn’t do that though, of course. He didn’t need to, considering it was just the two of them. The streets were surprisingly deserted, no one around but the chilly wind surrounding them.

And wasn’t it funny? How a year ago this meeting would have gone very differently? Where Jason would have immediately flown off the handle, shooting first and asked questions later. Lashing out with anger, aggression, and flying bullets because fighting was always easier than confronting their true feelings. (Dick could understand this very well, considering he was still too scared to admit his own current feelings of inadequacy and despair outloud.)

But there was none of that now. They’d moved past all of that. Gotten so much closer than the place they had once been in.

And Dick was struck again by how much Jason had grown. It was more than just the both of them getting along with each other better. Jason had become mature and strong and brave in a way Dick had always seen in him. The difference was that now Jason seemed to finally be seeing in it himself. It made Dick’s heart sing; a brief reprieve of his own pain to focus instead on the pride of his big little brother. Jason was his first brother, the one he had the most history with. And while it could arguably be said he was the one he had the most complicated relationship with, Dick didn’t think there was anything complicated about loving him. And Dick did. Love him. Even if it took greiving him to realise exactly how much and how deep that love truly went. (It was endless. Dick would trade his life a thousand times over for Jason’s.) Dick loved Jason with everything he had. And Jason coming back, giving Dick another chance to be the big brother he never got to be to him, it would never stop being a miracle. A blessing.

Perhaps Dick had been staring misty-eyed a little too long, wishing he could see his little wing’s eyes and trying to lock onto them through the helmet because when Jason next spoke, Dick startled.

“Well? What do you want?” He asked bluntly.

The question threw him off. What did Dick want?

/to live? to die? to be saved? to be seen? i don’t know but please please please-/

Jason didn’t seem to notice Dick’s mental dilemma, and continued emotionlessly in that voice module  “I assume you’re lurking around Red Hood’s territory for a reason? Though a text would have sufficed.” He snarked dryly, and this time even through the modified voice, Dick was sure he could detect a hint of teasing in his voice to cover up the obvious worry. And Dick supposed that was fair, this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Even Dick himself was at a loss, he couldn’t really put into words what had compelled him to seek Jason out when he was spiraling in a deteriorating mental state and yet here he was.

It pulled Dick back to the present because Jason rightfully assumed Dick was there to see him. He definitely wasn’t wrong, but being called out for it so directly was embarassing, especially when he didn’t have what he felt was a good enough reason to do so. (Dick wanted some comfort so badly but couldn’t bring himself to ask for it. He didn’t even know how to start. at some point he stopped remembering how to receive, all he knew was how to give.)

So it came to no surprise that instead of the truth, what came out of his lips was a flippant “Not really little wing, was just in the area, thought I’d drop by and see if you need any help.” Dick had pulled the first excuse he could think of with an easy grin but the moment the words were out he wanted to bite his lip in regret. He was sure it would cause Jason to bristle, the younger usually hating the inssinuation that he needed any assistance with anything. Dick internally winced as he waited for the snarl, the shouting, the dismissal…

…It never came. Instead there was a poignant pause as though Jason was raising an unimpressed eyebrow behind his helmet “right.. dressed like that.” He stated flatly as he nodded his head in gesture to Dick being maskless in civies.

“Ah..” Dick scratched his cheek as he trailed off, embarrassed for only now remembering what he must look like after running out of bed. It had been a stupid excuse to begin with and they both knew it was untrue but now he really didn’t know what to say to recover from it. Not when the lie was so clearly out in the open.

Shifting from side to side, Dick was sure he was being studied. Seen through. His heart laid bare. Too late Dick realised his signature smile had slipped off his face, that his emotions had been completely raw like an open gaping wound. Even though he tried to pull his masks back up, it was too late, Jason had already gotten a glimpse behind the curtain. It made Dick feel sick from vulnerability.

Dick tried not to wonder what conclusions Jason was making as he continued to impassively observe him, neither side speaking or willing to break the tense silence.

Then suddenly Jason stepped closer. His movements soft and telegraphed as though Dick was an injured bird he didn’t want to spook as he removed his jacket. Dick just stared at him with wide eyes blinking slowly, only coming out of his stupour when he felt something heavy and warm on his shoulders. Jason was stubbornly not looking at him, (not that Dick could have seen his expression behind the helmet anyway.) But Dick still quietly pulled his arms through Jason’s signature leather jacket that had been gently placed over him. Instant warmth and the smokey scent of Jason enveloped him and Dick unconsciously let out a soft sigh of content as his shivering slowed. (Some of the tenseness in Jason’s shoulders eased at the sound)

After a moment, Jason quietly asked “You good?” Even though the modified voice made it so that Dick shouldn’t be able to hear the tone in which they were spoken, somehow Dick could feel the concern.

“Yeah.” Dick answered equally softly “Thanks.”

There was another pause where Jason seemed to be contemplating something and Dick felt a flood of fear that Jason was just going to turn around and leave him now-! But something must have shown on his face because Jason was soon speaking.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“I- Huh?” Dick asked dumbly, wondering if he heard wrong or if Jason really wanted Dick to go somewhere with him.

But Jason didn’t bother waiting to reassure him or explain anything further, he was already stalking ahead and calling unbothered over his shoulder, “Hurry up Dickface, I’m not waiting if you’re too slow.” leaving Dick scrambling to chase after him and catch up if he didn’t want to be left behind.

Contrary to his words, Jason did walk much slower, slowing down his pace significantly to make sure Dick was able to fall into step with him. Dick also got the feeling that Jason was keeping a watchful eye on him to make sure he was close enough to catch him if Dick were to falter. (Jason clearly hadn’t forgotten about Dick’s stumbling earlier… or maybe Dick just looked bad enough to warrant concern. He wouldn’t know, not since he stopped looking into mirrors.)

Dick hadn’t bothered to ask where they were going, (he would follow Jason in blind faith off a cliff without question or hesitation if it came to it.) but after around 10 minutes of walking, Jason murmured “Almost there.” It was clear he was trying to be encouraging and Dick couldn’t help the small private smile. If there was one thing Dick knew, it was that Jason had always been a softie at heart. Though he loved to deny it and did everything in his power to hide the fact, Dick had gotten to bear witness to his ‘secret softness’ on more than one occasion not only on himself but with his siblings as his target too. Though Dick kindly kept it a secret from them, he was pretty sure they were all aware how much Jason cared about them. After all, Dick wasn’t the only older brother to them.

But while Dick reveled on how sweet his little wing was and reveled in the way his chest had gone warm from it, it also made Dick’s pulse flutter in anxiety. He wasn’t like his younger brothers who deserved to be coddled, so why was Jason deciding to be so nice to him when Dick hadn’t done anything to earn it?

/does he know?/

Could Jason tell something was wrong with him? Suddenly, Dick felt a growing panic. He had been desperately crying for someone to see how badly he was breaking for so long, but now that it might actually be happening he felt desperate to try and hide it. Because what would happen, if the infallible older brother was shown to be a fraud? To be someone weak, used, worthless? What happens when the curtains on the golden boy are pulled back to show the pathetic shell he’s been left in?

His breathing was starting to get ragged, and he only snapped out of it when he realised they had stopped walking. While Dick had been lost in thought he had apparently managed to follow Jason into an apartment building, trudged up a couple flights of stairs and was now staring through the open front door his brother had just unlocked.

Jason had already made it through the doorway and was now calmly waiting for Dick to enter.

Dick hadn’t been expected to be lead to.. well, this clearly wasn’t a safe house? Had Jason actually taken him to his apartment for the first time? His brother had brought him home..? Dick was frozen in awe and continued to stand in the doorway not daring to breach the entryway as though scared it would break the spell and have Jason change his mind and kick him out.

But the opposite happened, Jason beckoned him in instead “Come on.” Feeling slightly bewildered by the turn of events, Dick didn’t know what to make of his most prickly sibling when it came to privacy (who normally wasn’t even pleased to have someone in his safe house) knowingly invite him in to his own apartment. It kind of made Dick want to either sweep Jason up in a bone crushing hug, or cry.

Dazed, Dick let Jason take him by the crook of his elbow and guide him towards the couch. When Dick just stood there in front of it unmoving, Jason ushered him to sit. And when Dick was still too out of it to understand, Jason nudged him onto it until Dick finally sunk into it with a light push. Jason gave a satisfied nod and then left Dick there to mechanically remove the borrowed jacket while Jason had puttered about in the adjoining kitchen.

Normally, this would be the moment when Dick would be drinking in every detail, from the bookshelves to the photos to the houseplants; pride blooming in all the little ways Jason had made this place home and ecstatically showering affection to his brother about it; but right now Dick was too nervous to do anything but sit quietly.

When Jason returned, his helmet had been removed, and he was holding two cups of teas. Wordlessly Jason handed one to Dick, and he immediately recognized it as one that Alfred used to make on particular bad patrol days to calm everyone’s nerves.

Feeling grateful but a little uncharacteristically shy, Dick took a long sip, unsure what to say as Jason took a seat beside him. This entire moment, just being in Jason’s home; knowing that Jason trusted him enough to bring him here… it was surreal, it was perfect. And Dick… Dick still couldn’t bring himself to speak. Even though Jason had clearly brought him here for a reason. (most likely so that they could be in a private and safe space for Dick to let whatever he wanted off his chest,) did Dick really want to ruin the moment and taint Jason’s home with his poisonous misery?

…And maybe a part of him was still scared. Terrified even. That if he let down his walls and broke down right now, the last remnants of respect in Jason’s eyes would be shattered. The “golden boy” Jason used to look up to with hero worship all those years ago would now be nothing more than a fucked up mess. His big brother who’s supposed to be strong enough to protect him is the one who needs saving.

‘But Jason already knew that didn’t he? He always knew how weak you were from the moment you weren’t there to save him. You’re a disappointment and always have been. He long since stopped believing in you since then.’ Repeated thoughts he so often rasped to himself echoed and reverberated in his skull. Dick found his self loathing rising and rising until it felt nearly crippling. Hanging his head in despair, he put the tea down on the coffee table before his shaking hand could risk dropping the cup and instead dug his fingers to grip the edge of the couch. Without the Red Hood mask, Dick could finally look at Jason’s face after wanting to see it all night and yet he couldn’t bring himself to raise his gaze from his lap.

Not until a warm hand tenderly grasped his chin and turned his head, causing him to flutter open eyes that he hadn’t realised he’d closed. Dick found himself staring into blue-green eyes. A worried softness to them that had rarely ever been directed at Dick before. It broke him. And the last of his defence walls had already begun to crumble.

Because even though Dick didn’t deserve Jason’s trust after failing to save him, Jason had over time chosen to rekindle that trust in him again. It was one of the single most precious gift Dick had ever received.

/i trust Jason with my life. so can’t i trust him with this too?/

“Hey, whatever it is that happened, whatever it is that’s going on in that head of yours right now, you can talk to me.” Jason murmured his gaze of complete openness. And Dick didn’t know what to make of his tone sounding so sincere and unjudging but it didn’t feel like compassion, it felt like salvation. It was everything Dick had been wishing for. It was everything Dick needed.

“I…” His voice faltered, cracking on a repressed sob. Because how does he say how miserable he is? How broken? How does one put into words the myriad of emotions welling inside of him and bleeding him dry?

“I’m so tired.” Is what ended up coming out. But his voice came out too quiet and exhausted for his liking… too breathless, too pained, too honest .

There was a second, when what Dick said sat heavily in the air between them, and the moment his confession sunk in, that Dick realised he had actually spoken those words out loud for the first time in his life, he immediately wanted nothing more than to take it back. He nearly panicked with how badly he wanted to laugh it off as a joke and insist he didn’t mean it-!

/but i do mean it. i am tired. i’m so tired of pretending i’m okay. i’m not. i’m really not./

Jason was silent, eyes staring into him as though he could see all the things Dick didn’t say but meant. His tone was almost sad when he replied “Then take a rest.”

It was the permission Dick didn’t know he needed to stop having to act like he had everything together all the time, and a near sob tore from his throat. But still he fought it back.

“It’s not that simple.” Dick tried to insist, shaking his head firmly once Jason had let go of his face. There were so many more reasons he couldn’t say out loud, all the unspoken pain; tumbling out of parted lips even though he didn’t make a sound; couldn’t form a single comprehendible word.

but somehow he felt like Jason heard it all anyway. That Jason understood.

Maybe that’s why he so desperately wanted to believe him when Jason countered with “Isn’t it?” Jason’s voice was calm, unmoving, like a pillar of stone in a raging sea, and Dick clutched towards it like it was his only lifeline.

“I…I-!” Dick could barely speak, could barely get his racing thoughts in order long enough to explain that he couldn’t just stop being the person everyone wanted him to be and he didn’t have time to focus on his own needs and— !

In another life, perhaps that was the moment when Dick would finally break down. He would reveal all the feelings that had been building up. All the secrets he had been holding in that had been slowly tearing him apart one scream at a time. He would be held and cry in Jason’s arms and feel safe and heard. And maybe just maybe, Jason would become his safety net.

But this is not that life. (Not yet.) And even though this was the perfect chance to do so, Dick couldn’t bring himself to take that final step. Couldn’t risk burdening his brother with the weight of his pain. No matter how tempting the offer of having someone to rely on, no matter how badly he wanted to just this once count on someone else to be there for him instead of shouldering the world on his shoulders alone.

But Dick couldn’t bring himself to let it all go. To drop all the masks he was still desperately clinging to when he knew after doing so, he may never be able to put them back on again. (Once Jason saw the mess he truly was, he would never look at him the same again.) It would only be selfish. For Dick to break in front of someone who was still counting on him to hold it together.

Especially when Dick knew he still had it in him to keep holding on for just a little longer. He could! He had to.

And maybe… a part of Dick felt like he deserved to keep suffering in silence. After all, wasn’t it the sins of his own regret that wrapped its heavy chains around his heart? Did he truly have the right to seek out solace in Jason after all the mistakes he had made, after all the people he had hurt and let down?

/i deserve to be miserable. i shouldn’t make it someone else’s problem./

Dick was supposed to be better than this. If he broke down now… if he exposed himself for the pathetic person he really was… he would be failing everyone’s expectations of him. It would somehow get back to Bruce (because it always did.) And Bruce would be disappointed in him. Hell, Jason would be disappointed in him! He invited him in his home and was Dick really considering repaying that kindness by sobbing to him about his issues when Jason had gone through so much worse?

Dick couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t!

Especially when Dick wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle Jason looking at him in disgust (or worse; pity.) for whining over something that probably didn’t even consist as a big deal in his eyes. If Dick ruined things with Jason and his brother turned him away because he lost all respect for him and couldn’t stand to look at him anymore… Dick honestly didn’t think he’d be able to take that kind of heartbreak on top of everything else. It was simply not worth risking over just for a scrap of comfort.

“I’m fine. Sorry, it’s nothing. I didn’t mean to waste your time. I should go.” Dick whispered, wiping his eyes as he made to stand.

“Dick.” Jason frowned, his mouth twisted into a line of worry that he couldn’t quite hide. He reached a hand out to wrap loosely around Dick’s wrist before he could get up and leave (not restraining him, but a comforting warmth to tell him that he’s here.) “Don’t do that. Don’t lie. Not to me.” ’And not to yourself.’ Went unspoken but pointedly directed to him.

Dick exhaled softly, his eyes closing over the overwhelming love for his brother for not letting him leave and be alone (which was the last thing Dick wanted!) yet at the same time not forcing Dick to talk about what he wasn’t yet ready to voice. (Dick would have, if Jason had demanded it of him as proof that Dick trusted him. Because he did, Dick really really did. It was never about not trusting Jason to catch him as he fell, it was about Dick having to admit out loud to that he had been in the air for so long for that falling was the inevitable conclusion.)

But Jason was right with his assessment, and he at the very least deserved honesty. So when Dick opened his eyes again to look at Jason, it was with something far more genuine. “Okay, it’s not nothing, but I can’t- I’m not ready to.. I..” Dick floundered for a moment while Jason patiently waited for Dick to get his thoughts in order, never rushing or pushing him.

“I’m working on it. And I’ll be okay.” Dick finally settled on saying to him, his voice small but honest as he let some of his determination seep in to the words.

Jason just stared at him for a long moment searching for something in Dick’s expression before giving a stiff nod. “Yeah, you will be.” Jason answered, nudging him lightly. And those four words may have been spoken quietly, but they were said with such confidence, such unwavering faith in him, that Dick couldn’t help the small but genuine smile begin to grow on his face. Because if Jason believed it with that much conviction, then Dick could dare to believe him. That maybe he really would be okay. This was just a rough patch… he’d get through it like he always did and then things would get better.

’I will be okay.’ He repeated again in his head. ’This feeling won’t last forever.’

Dick spent the rest of the night on Jason’s couch after refusing to take the bed, and in the morning Jason insisted on making him breakfast. They hung out a bit longer, (Dick relaxing more and more when Dick’s near-confession hours before wasn’t brought up again,) and at one point Jason actually managed to get Dick to laugh,

It was the lightest Dick had felt in weeks.

Right before Dick leaves to make good on his promise to spend time with Damian, Jason stopped him in the doorway with his arms crossed and a serious look on his face. Jason then got Dick to promise that when he does feel ready to talk about what had him so “tired” and close to tears the previous night, that Dick knew he could always go to Jason. That Jason was promising to be there for him.

.

.

.

But Dick never got the chance to do so.

When Blüdhaven was gone and Dick was choking on the taste of his blood, he wanted to rip his own skin off in disgrace for his failure. All he wanted to do was seek Jason out and ask him if the offer to spill his guts still stood, but he wasn’t given the chance when Bruce died soon after. (Jason’s promise was never forgotten, it burned in the back of Dick’s throat whenever he saw him, desperate to come out in a plea to be seen. But how could he, when Jason was grieving too?)

Dick didn’t have the time to break when he was too busy with the heavy burden of more responsibilities of having to hold everything together. (Jason found ways to help in other ways, Red Hood taking on larger areas of patrol so that Dick wasn’t stretched as thin as Batman. And Dick was so appreciative but he still felt like he was drowning.)

Then Bruce came back and Tim was right, and everything was different despite it seemingly going back to how it was. While Dick was left lurched in the upheaval and trying to regain his footing, he still wasn’t given time to breathe (still wasn’t given the time to find Jason to celebrate that their dad was back or cry about how it felt like he had to give his son to Bruce when Damian had already become his own) because there was always another crisis that required Dick’s aide.

And then another.

And another.

Too many things kept happening and Dick was always needed. Always expected to be the pillar of strength to those around him. So he pushed his own feelings aside for the good of the family again and again and again to become what was required of him. Even when months continue to pass, leaving tragedy in its wake. (Damian was gone and Dick knew a part of himself went with him.)

Yet still people needed his help. And Dick had never been able to ignore the call to provide what he could.

(Until he died. Until he woke up. Until he was sent to Spyral. Until he found his way home.)

Dick couldn’t have ever expected that so many months later, when everything got infinitely worse and he desperately needed to at last take Jason up on that offer he had been holding on to for so long… the only thing he’d be getting would be a look of burning anger and a punch to the face.

/i’m falling, falling, falling, but no one wants to catch me/

And those first few nights back, when Dick would stand up on top of a high rise building during solo patrol and catch a glimpse of Red Hood’s broad back grappling in the distance, Dick selfishly wished he could go back before all of this. To that moment where Jason looked at him gently and promised him everything was going to be okay. He wished he had given in to the safety net of his brother’s protective arms around him on that warm homey couch with the scent of tea in the air, instead of pushing the chance away out of bitter fear.

Dick wished and wished, but wishes never did him any good. All it did was remind him of what he lost. All it did was bring him more regrets he could never fulfill. All it did was solidify what he’d never get the chance to experience again. After all, he knew Jason didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

Dick pretended it didn’t hurt, just like he pretended the last of his mask wouldn’t crack to pieces if Jason was ever willing to catch him again.

-

Chapter Text

-

It took three days.

Three days for Jason to make sure he wasn’t actively bleeding out, could moderately move, and would be able to make the trip back without risk of passing out on the way there. (Thank god the pit helped speed up the healing process, even if it was only moderately.)

Three days of making sure he wouldn’t be found while he hid out, or followed when he was able to head back.

The shitty flat he was in didn’t have a tv and with his phone still broken and left behind it wasn’t like he could check the news on how they were deciding to spin the story of Lex Luthor’s death. Frankly, Jason didn’t even care. The only thing that mattered to him was getting back to Dick.

Hence, the three days he had to take to recuperate was three days too many.

Jason impatiently waited till it was dark enough out that his helmet hopefully wouldn’t be recognized and then made the long trip back out to Gotham, breaking every speed limit the entire way.

By the time he made it to one of his usual places to stash his bike, he didn’t even waste time to change his clothes. He just took out his grappling hook and started scouting the city, following the route he knew Nightwing had been seen at back when he had purposely wanted to know which areas to avoid running into him.

It took him the better part of an hour, but he did eventually spot Dick on a rooftop. He just wasn’t dressed as Nightwing.

Jason hadn’t expected Dick to be skipping patrol, but then again he had no idea what Dick had been up to since his return. He swallowed down the guilt as he closed in on the lonely figure on top of an old crumbling apartment building. Come to think of it, Jason was pretty sure he used to have a safehouse around the area.

As he got closer, he could make out more of Dick’s features. Dressed in his civies with a large fluffy blue blanket draped loosely around his shoulders, Dick stood silently as he looked up at the smog-darkened sky. The moonlight had fallen over his face and bathed his silhouette in an ethereal glow. Even when his expression was one of desolation, his face half hidden in shadow; Dick still managed to look picturesque. A few days ago it would have had Jason pissed off and cursing the precious golden boy for always looking so damn perfect like nothing could ever get to him. But now… all it did was cause a pang of guilt in his heart for not being there sooner.

Worry and concern churned in his stomach as he finally landed on the same roof. Jason could have landed silently, but he made sure to let his presence be known. The last thing he wanted to do was startle Dick right now.

He removed his helmet, knowing he wasn’t wearing his dominos mask under it this time, and then fidgeted with it slightly before putting it on the ground near his feet. He knew he was just stalling now, Dick was definitely aware of his presence— but would Dick even want to see him?

Jason took a deep breath and then straightened his shoulders. It didn’t matter if he was pissed with him. Hell, Jason would happily take a returning punch and some yelling if it would make Dick feel better. And maybe Jason had never been good at talking about feelings, but for Dick… Jason was willing to try.

Needless to say the last thing Jason was expecting was for Dick to turn around the moment Jason approached and look at him with open awe.

“…Jay?” The night was quiet enough that his soft voice reached his ears. And for a moment, it looked like Dick couldn’t believe what he was seeing. As though he was actually glad Jason was there.

But that couldn’t be right could it? It definitely had to be Jason just projecting what he wanted to see.

Sure enough, as he stepped closer it was as though Dick came out of whatever dream-like stuppour he was in. “What are you doing here?” He asked warily, his arms making an aborted motion as though he wanted to cross them over his chest protectively but thought better of showing himself as visibly so vulnerable. “Do you have something more you want to say to me?”

The resignation in his tone made Jason want to wince. It hurt, knowing that Dick clearly expected Jason to seek him out just for the purpose of flying off the handle and venomously lashing out like he had been doing every time he had seen Dick throughout the past month. It hurt more knowing he hadn’t given any reason for Dick to think of him doing anything less.

But that just made Jason all the more determined as he strode forward to close some of the wide distance between them.

“Yeah, I do. I was wrong.”

“What?” Dick blinked, expression dropping from defensive into one of surprise and confusion.

Jason wasn’t deterred by Dick’s response. Jason had never been afraid to man up and admit his mistakes when he made them. He wasn’t like Bruce.

Not wanting to come off as having any type of aggression after the last time he had met Dick on a rooftop, Jason telegraphed his movements as he walked over to take a forced casual seat on the ledge.

After a pause, Dick joined him.

Jason waited till Dick settled,  and turned to face him to repeat his words with every ounce of conviction he felt. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I should have known better than to assume Bruce was giving the full story about you going to Spyral.”

Dick took a measured breath, clearly not expecting the admission or the apology and looked every bit like a deer in headlights. “First Tim and now you…? I appreciate it but I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this now? Did something happen?”

Jason pursed his lips. He knew a loaded question when he heard one. There was obviously a lot that fucking happened. Just like there was a lot he needed to tell Dick, and Jason wasn’t one to beat around the bush about it. Keeping secrets was what caused so many misunderstandings in the first place. So all Jason wanted to do was tell him that he knew about what happened and that Bruce would never lay a finger on him again! He wanted to ask him why the hell he hadn’t told him sooner. Why he hadn’t tried to contact him during his mission. He wanted to ask him if he was okay. He wanted to address everything else that was mentioned in the video because despite his slightly foggy green-tinted memory of it, Jason was pretty sure there hadn’t been a single thing Dick had said that hadn’t been worrying.

But looking at the wide-eyed look Dick was currently sporting, the way he was ever-so slightly trembling and holding himself like he was ready to run, and the way he was so clearly dreading Jason’s answer and the ensuing conversation that would follow… It was pretty obvious that Dick was spooked and looked seconds away from bolting off the roof if he became overwhelmed.

Jason made his decision. There would be plenty of time for explanations later and contrary to popular belief, he did have some tact when the situation called for it. Right now the most important thing was making sure Dick felt comfortable and not cornered. After how much Jason had upset him the last time they spoke, it was the least he could do.

So with a sigh he answered “Yeah, you could say that something happened. But does it really matter what it was? It got me to pull my head out of my ass didn’t it?” He admitted gruffly in an effort to hide his shame on how wrong he had been about everything. “The point is now I know none of it was your fault. I fucked up. I wasn’t there for you despite me telling you that I always would be. I let you down and I’m sorry.”

Dick opened his mouth as if to vehemently protest, (Jason was well versed in Dick’s martyr complex and was sure he was about to start sprouting some shit about it not being Jason’s fault and that he couldn’t have known- or worse, make some sort insane comparison to when Dick hadn’t been there during the Joker. Jason was not having it. He was not about to let Dick turn this on himself or his past guilt just to let Jason off the hook.)

Thankfully, before it reached a point where Jason would need to steer the conversation back on the topic it needed to stay on, Dick seemed to change his mind about whatever he had been planning to say. He wordlessly closed his mouth again, as if he was worried that denying things would only ruin the delicate atmosphere of rebuilding camaraderie between them.

So Dick simply shook his head with a pained expression on his face and then shifted to close more of the space between them. He hesitated only for a second but the way he glanced at Jason made it clear what he wanted.

Jason had no intention of denying him. He would always be willing to give his brother what he needed, no questions asked. Besides, he may not have been as touchy-feely as Dick but he certainly didn’t mind it as much as he pretended to. If he was honest, it wasn’t like he had been getting many hugs from anywhere else. And after everything he had learnt about Dick lately, a hug sounded really good right about now.

So Jason immediately opened up his arms for Dick to eagerly lean into. Dick was uncharacteristically careful as he wrapped his arms around him, as though he was hesitant about something. (Jason closed his eyes on the onslaught of guilt when it seemed like Dick was just nervous that he was going to get cruelly rejected and shoved away.)  To combat Dick’s worries Jason ignored the way his body was still sore and pulled Dick in tighter, dispelling the tentative hug into something more solid. The moment Dick recognised that Jason was hugging back, Dick all but crumpled against his chest as though he had no more strength left in him, letting Jason hold him up as Dick clung to him like a lifeline.

‘I got you. I’m here.’ Jason tried to telegraph through the hug. Because even though Dick was the older brother, at times like this when he fit just right in his arms and was practically hidden from the world as he pressed himself against Jason’s broad chest… he felt so small. And it caused a strong surge of protectiveness to wash over Jason. He couldn’t believe he had almost lost him.

“You really died Dickie.” Jason murmured, voice raw as he held him tighter. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was as soft as it was pained. “For a month you just let me give you so much shit for it!”

Dick slowly lifted his head to peer up at Jason beneath the curl of his lashes, his gaze flickering with something like self indignant anger “Well you didn’t exactly give me a chance to clarify things, did you?” Jason felt searing guilt in his heart at the reminder but barely had time to react to it when Dick continued with a self-depreciating laugh “Besides… it was barely a few minutes. It shouldn’t count. Not to you or Dami.”

Jason took a steadying breath and was unbelievably glad he had three days to rage because if he hadn’t, he doubted he would have been able to stay so calm right now after hearing that.

“Dick… don’t. Death isn’t a competition or a comparison. It doesn’t matter if it’s for a minute or a year, that shit is traumatizing. …I wish I had been there for you. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t. If I had known… shit, I would have made sure to be the first fucking thing you saw when you came to. You know that don’t you? I.. fuck. Dick I know I don’t say it very often but I love you. You’re a pain in my ass most of the time but there isn’t a world where I’d want to live without you. I was angry at you when you came back because I’d already been living in a world like that for months and it was tearing me apart. But it was selfish and messed up to have made it about my feelings and refusing to see beyond that, instead of trying to look into things further or at the very least checking in on you.”

Dick was quiet for a long moment as he digested his words, long enough that Jason briefly considered pulling away from the hug so he could try to read what Dick was thinking, but the moment he made the slightest movement, Dick reflectively clung tighter as though panicked he was going to leave and Jason quickly relaxed back into the hug. If Dick wanted to hide away from the world for a little longer then Jason would keep holding him for as long as he needed.

“So is that what this is? You checking up on me Little Wing?” Dick asked, a tiny smile in his voice despite his words sounding muffled from where he was hiding his face against the crook of Jason’s neck.

“Yes. …No. I don’t know. I just—“ Jason squeezed his eyes shut before dropping his head. “When you came back.. I was an asshole. Worse than that. I…” He paused, frustrated with himself for how hard it was to get the ugly words out. “The last time we met on a rooftop like this one I hurt you.” ’I’m not like Him. I don’t want to be like Him. Please don’t see me that way…’ Is what Jason so desperately wanted to convey. “I’m sorry for what I did.” Jason admitted, his voice rough with honesty. He could only hope that Dick accepted that he was being sincere.

Dick for his part, looked so genuinely shocked that he actually startled out of the hug to look at him. As though he had never expected Jason to apologise for punching him. It just made Jason feel even more like a piece of shit.

It’s not like they hadn’t had their fair share of rough housing before as all brothers did, or several fights when they were in costume. But he’d be a fool to not acknowledge what his intention had been at the time of the punch that set it apart from anything playful or lighthearted sparring. Especially when Dick hadn’t come to him as Nightwing, but as his missing brother. So there had been no doubt about the message Jason had been intending to make with that near knockout of a hit.

And while obviously Jason had done a lot worse (Tim, case in point.) but… any unprompted violence had all been before. Back when he was still half-insane with hatred and whispers of misinformation from Talia feeding his betrayal. It was back when Jason hadn’t yet learnt how to control the Green.

He had come so far since then to prove himself as someone trustworthy who wasn’t some mindless monster that would fly off the handle at a second thought. Jason hated himself for nearly ruining all of that, and negating all his progress. All it had taken was a single second of loss of control. How was he supposed to make up for that? How could he stand to look at himself if Dick ever flinched away from him? (It hadn’t happened in anything other than his nightmares, but Jason was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wouldn’t blame Dick if he did.)

But of course Dick was incapable of putting the blame on anyone but himself. “I’ve already forgiven you for everything so if you’re just being nice out of guilt then you don’t need to do any of this. Besides I deserved it.”

Jason breathed out slowly through his nose, trying to stay calm and curb his rising anger. “Cut the crap Dick. You didn’t deserve it at all. You didn’t deserve any of the shit you’ve been put through and you know it. And if you don’t know it, then I’ll just keep reminding you until it sinks in. Besides, since when do I do anything I don’t want to do? If you think I’m being ‘nice’ which I’m literally not, it’s because I want to, not for any other reason.” Jason leveled his gaze at him as he continued “In fact you can even punch me back if it’ll make you feel better. You can clock me right here and we could call it even…”

Jason gestured to his jaw in offer, only half-joking. (Not about the punching part; Dick was welcome to do it. About the being even part; he knew it would never make up for it.) “Come on, I’m sure there’ve been plenty of times i’ve done something worthy of being punched in the face. Tell me you haven’t fantasized of shutting up this handsome mug.”

Under normal circumstances, Jason’s teasing would have been enough to get wry laugh or witty comeback. But this time Dick looked aghast as his joke fell flat.

“I’m not going to hit you.” Dick whispered, firmly. Glaring as if he was horrified by the very suggestion.

And yeah, Jason probably should have expected that. So he dropped the lighter tone and turned serious as well.  “No one is going to hit you again either. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Dick tensed so much he practically recoiled from what Jason had just implied. And suddenly he was standing up, the blanket falling off his shoulders, while Dick looked everywhere but at Jason as though he couldn’t stand the thought of all the vulnerabilities he had been unknowingly baring when Jason had been looking him in the eye. 

“That’s a pretty big promise to make in our line of work.” Dick added with faux-lightness, trying and failing to hide that he was clearly fishing to see if Jason meant what it sounded like he meant.

Jason absolutely did.

“I wasn’t talking about during our ‘nightime hobbies.’ But sure, I’ll protect you those times too.” Jason answered back calmly as he stood up himself, catching Dick’s eye and making sure he knew he was being serious.

Dick took another step back, eyes wide as he shook his head frantically in denial “I don’t need protecting.”

“Too bad. You’re getting it anyway.” Jason told him gently but firmly as he reached out towards him and (when there was no resistance,) pulled him back towards his chest.

Dick let him, but his breathing was coming fast and short, he was definitely getting into panic attack territory.

Jason rubbed his back soothingly. “Hey… I mean it okay? I know you can take care of yourself, but you don’t need to. So I took care of it. Bruce isn’t going to touch you again.” ’Neither is fucking Lex Luthor.’ Jason thought darkly, but he figured name-dropping someone’s murderer would be a little insensitive. Jason himself still stiffened whenever the Joker was mentioned after all. And as it was, Dick already seemed to be close to a full blown freak out.

“Wh-why would you say that? What do you mean? What did you do?”

Jason carefully held back from any rash answers. He knew Dick wouldn’t take well to finding out that anyone knew what Bruce had done to him, either due to Dick’s pride or misplaced shame. Jason could relate. None of the bats liked their secrets being exposed outside of their own free-will, especially when said secret involved them being vulnerable or had something to do with their complicated relationship with Bruce which was a touchy subject for all of them. It sucked that Jason hadn’t found out from Dick personally but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to regret watching that video when at least now he knew the truth.

“Dickie, it’s okay. I promise.” Jason soothed, cupping Dick’s chin in his hand “Do you trust me?”

“Always.” Dick answered immediately. (And if Jason was startled by the trust he didn’t even deserve, then no one had to know how just how much it meant to him, nor the sudden lump in his throat or burning of tears held back behind his gaze.)

“Then trust me when I say that everything is fine. I just let certain individuals know where my loyalty lies.”

Dick stared at him in open-mouthed disbelief, as though he couldn’t fathom what Jason was saying, but also couldn’t prevent the tell-tale feeling of hope from growing. “By loyalty you mean…”

“I mean to You, idiot.” Jason chuckled fondly. His voice soft as he explained “I don’t give a shit about keeping the peace with Batman, never have since I came back. I care about you.”

Dick sucked in a deep breath “You don’t- you don’t mean that.” He tried to say, eyes pleading with emotion, that gave away just how badly he wanted it to be true.

“I sure as shit do. I’ve got your back okay? And I know Tim and Damian do too.”

Dick looked overwhelmed as he stared at Jason with large watery eyes, until the moisture spilled over and rolled down his cheek. Jason thumbed the tear tracks away. “Don’t look so surprised. How many times have you been in our corner? Stood up to Bruce for us or diffused a situation?” His voice got more solemn “How many times have you stepped in to take the heat off us, or stepped up for us and taken on a more dangerous job you didn’t want to do for our sake? Do you really think we wouldn’t do the same for you? That we haven’t recognised all that you’ve done for us?”

“You didn’t before…” Dick mumbled under his breath before quickly biting his lip and everting his gaze, as though he hadn’t meant to let those words slip out.

Jason internally winced. He deserved that. He could have told him it was because he didn’t know, but he didn’t want to give any excuses when he hadn’t tried to know. And in the end it didn’t change what happened. It was Jason’s fault for not thinking about Dick enough.

“I know. But I’m going to do better. I’m not going to let you go through the shit you’ve been putting up with anymore. I’m going to be here for you Dick, like you have for all of us. It’s not up for debate. So just shut up and let me.”

There was a pause where it felt like they were both holding their breath, and then Dick was holding onto Jason like his life depended on it, his face buried in Jason’s shoulder as he tried to hold back a sob.

“….Okay.” He said in a tiny warbled voice, so softly that Jason barely caught it despite being so close to him.

“Thank you.” Jason murmured, gently stroking Dick’s silky hair. ’I know how hard it is for you to accept help. Thank you for trusting me on this. Thank you for letting me make things right and be here for you.’

Jason wasn’t sure how long they stood wrapped in the embrace, but eventually he heard Dick speak again.

“Jay… I missed you.”

“I missed you too Dickie.”

“What you said before… you know that I love you too.”

“Yeah Dickie, I know.”

Dick finally pulled back with a small smile that looked so much more genuine than everything else he’d seen from him this night.

But that didn’t take away from the fact that Dick looked incredibly worn out. This was the first time Jason was getting to really look at him after a month of avoiding him and it only worried him further.

Asking him if Dick was okay would be stupid and unnecessary, (it was obvious that he wasn’t.) But Jason still wanted Dick to know that if he wanted to talk about the elephant in the room, if he wanted to get anything off his chest… then Jason was there to listen.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked him quietly.

“Talk about what?” Dick played dumb, his defenses slamming down like an iron-wrought gate.

Jason gave him a look. “You know what. How about what you’ve been through, or how you feel. Aren’t you the one who always told us not to keep things bottled up?”

Dick laughed, harsh and cold. “Since when do you like talking about feelings?”

Jason didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he impassively answered, gaze sincere “I don’t mind if it’s for you.”

The antagonistic mask completely melted off Dick’s face as he slumped his shoulders.

“There’s just so much… and I- I’m so tired. Tired of it all.” He finally whispered, his voice frail and small.

Jason’s heart sank. Dick looked so lost and beaten down, Jason wanted to do anything to make sure Dick never wore such a sad and haunted expression again.

Jason tried to speak as reassuringly as possible. “That’s okay, we don’t have to talk about anything overwhelming right now. Do you want to go back inside? Maybe lie down for a bit?” It had been pretty obvious that despite Dick’s obvious exhaustion, he hadn’t been talking about being tired in the literal sense. But Jason wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to push him to say anything more about it when it already looked like Dick was hovering on the edge of a break down and barely holding it together.

But Dick just shook his head. “No! No… I.. don’t want— Not yet. I can’t go back in and pretend anymore. Jason I can’t. I can’t do it!”

Jason frowned in worry as Dick seemed to get more and more worked up and did his best to sound reassuring “No one is asking you to pretend to be anything.” ’And I don’t think you’re fooling anyone anymore even if you tried.’ Dick used to be someone who could become completely unreadable if he wanted to, but after watching that video… Jason now understood it was all about knowing what to look for.

Right now however, there was no need to analyse micro expressions. It was pretty obvious that Dick was getting lost in his head, wrapping his shaking arms around himself as he tried not to hyperventilate. “You don’t understand, they don’t know that I’m broken…”

Jason wasn’t sure who the ‘they’ Dick was referring to but if he had to guess it would be Tim and Damian. Not that it mattered, the only thing he wanted to get through Dick’s thick skull was “You are not broken! And don’t say that shit again!”

But Dick just shook his head, not believing him as he suddenly crouched down, as though his legs refused to hold him up any longer. And then hid his face in his knees

Jason ignored the way his heart was breaking seeing Dick like this, and instead tried to focus on the appreciation that Dick was putting his trust in Jason by allowing him to see him in such a state. Carefully, he wrapped the fallen blanket from earlier back around Dick’s small form and then placed a warm hand on his shoulder as he softened his voice “Dickie it’s alright. If you don’t want to go in we can just stay here for as long as you want. Just you and I. No one else will see you and you won’t have to do anything.”

Dick nodded but he didn’t speak or lift his head up.

Jason tried again “Or do you want to get out of here? Maybe get a change of scenery?”

This time he got a quiet “okay” and Jason held in his sigh of relief. The wind was picking up and Dick was already shivering despite being covered with the blanket.

Jason stood up and then offered his hand to pull Dick up. Despite Dick’s fit figure, he had always been heavier than he looked with all that hidden muscle. So it was impossible not to notice when Jason was able to lift Dick to his feet without even needing to brace himself. ’The hell? How much weight has he lost?’ Immediately planning on making a warm meal to stuff him with, Jason almost missed when Dick croaked out “Wait.. I can’t just go off and leave Damian alone! Tim is here too...”

Not liking the resignation on Dick’s face as Dick murmured that he needed to be there for them, Jason quickly cut in “Tim is with him isn’t he? They’ll be fine on their own for a few hours. Come on Dickiebird, you need a break.”

“But I-“

“Nope. I’ll talk to them. You wait here.”

Climbing down from the roof, making his way to a very familiar apartment that he noted with amusement was his own damn safehouse after all, Jason stuck his head through the open window which Dick had probably climbed out from and yelled “Hey, I’m taking Dick out for a bit. You two watch the place.”

Tim jumped up from where he had been sitting on the couch with his laptop balanced on his lap to rush towards the window. “Jason?! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for days! We need to talk!”

“Later.” Jason cut him off. “Dick needs me right now.” And damn if there wasn’t pride in saying those words. “I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

Tim raised an eyebrow but didn’t get the chance to question him further when Jason suddenly asked “Where’s Damian?”

“In the shower. And he’s not going to be happy if he comes out to find Dick was kidnapped by you.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “He’ll get over it.” But then paused, feeling a little bad. Damian was the one who had been defending Dick the entire time. “Just.. just tell him I realised he was right about Dick. He’ll love that. You know how adorably smug he gets.”

Tim snorted softly. “It is pretty cute when he starts preening like an angry little kitten wanting head pats for every ‘I told you so’.”

“Well, he can get as many as he wants from me once we’re back. I just… we fucked up Tim. With how we treated Dick. And I’m trying to do what I should have done with him in the first place.”

Tim narrowed his eyes calculatingly. “You got the email too didn’t you?”

Jason blinked in surprise for a second before remembering that it was Tim who had notified him to check his emails in the first place. Jason’s expression went serious. “We’ll talk about it later.” he declared again grimly.

Jason didn’t wait for a response as he turned around and slipped back up to where Dick was waiting looking forlorn and unsure.

He immediately looked relieved the second he spotted Jason.

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming back…” Dick admitted, his voice uncharacteristically shy.

It sent another pang of pain through Jason. Not just because how out of place it felt to see his brother who was usually so confident and larger than life looking so hesitant, but also due to the fact that Jason knew that it was his fault that he had pushed Dick away and snapped such angry things at him this past month. To point where it had gotten bad enough between them that Dick now doubted his sincerity and thought he would just up and leave him!

Jason just hoped he’d be able to gain back the closeness they had once shared.

“Well I’m here.” He tried not to growl, hating that he came across as sounding angry but unable to express his own pain with anything other than frustration. “You still want to go somewhere else?”

Dick nodded, shuffling closer to leech some body heat off Jason. Jason pretended not to notice and casually wrapped an arm around Dick’s shoulders. He would have just given him his jacket but he needed it to keep his injuries hidden. He had done his best to wash the blood stains off in the sink at the apartment he had been hiding out in, but he was pretty sure Dick would still question why the inside of his jacket reeked of blood and the last thing he wanted was for Dick to realise the state of his wounds. This was not about Jason. And he was well aware that the moment Dick found out Jason was injured he would just start fussing over him and completely neglect himself. No way in hell was Jason going to risk letting that happen. The attention was staying firmly on Dick for once, Jason could deal. Besides he was already healing.

So tugging the blanket a little tighter around Dick, Jason then snatched up his helmet and plopped it on Dick’s head (it wouldn’t do to have anyone spotting the Red Hood with a civilian- especially if that civilian was Dick Grayson.) He then dug in his own pocket and pulled out his crumpled domino mask (hopefully not too bloodstained) and slapped it across his own face, hoping the adhesive from before would still last.

Once their identities were both sufficiently protected, Jason switched positions to make sure his arm held tightly around Dick’s waist as he held him close since they were sharing one grappling hook, and then shot out his line. It hurt like hell on his still-healing body and bruised ribs to be carrying another person, but Jason didn’t give a damn and hugged Dick even tighter.

“Come on Dickiebird, let’s go flying for a bit.”

-

Free-running across the rooftops and grappling from one building to the next which was as close as they could get to soaring through the skies, was something Jason was confident would never fail to put a smile on Dick’s face.

And he was right. He could practically feel Dick’s mood improving as Jason lead them airborne around the city. Even without the fancy flips that Nightwing would have done, there was truly nothing quite like the exhilaration of swinging through the air.

On one of the lands, Dick even playfully bumped into Jason’s shoulder, a grin in his voice as he murmured gratefully “Thanks Little Wing, I needed this.”

So all in all, Jason would have called it a success.

It was only after they had been zipping across the skyline for long enough that Jason figured they should probably call it a night and start to head back, did things start to go awry.

Half-way back towards the safehouse Dick seemed to be unknowingly leaning more of his weight on Jason in between jumps. Jason didn’t mind and held him up without complaint, he could easily carry Dick if need be. But the fact that Dick’s arm that had been securely wrapped around him was now starting to go slack almost as though he was too exhausted to keep a strong enough hold of his grip anymore, clued him in that something was definitely wrong with Dick’s condition.

Perplexed, Jason paused on the next building, wishing he could lift up the helmet to check Dick over. (He finally understood why the bats always got so annoyed that they couldn’t tell how Jason was doing whenever he wore it.)

The first thing Jason wanted to blurt out was what’s wrong? but he knew better that implying something was wrong was the quickest way to get Dick to deny it. So instead he had to go with the air of a slightly more casual “You good?” Even though they both knew Dick was not in fact ‘good’ at all.

Dick took a beat too long to answer before he finally mumbled. “Yeah… just a headache.”

Jason narrowed his eyes suspiciously, silently waiting him out. It paid off because after another couple minutes of Dick reluctantly added “…Dizzy.”

Jason somehow managed to swallow down his alarm from showing and kept his tone calm. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?”

Dick gave a very unconvincing head shake (which probably did nothing to help his apparent dizziness.), and Jason made the executive decision to screw the safe house and just take Dick straight home. It was a lot closer than having to grapple for another 15 minutes.

“Alright. Just tell me if you need me to stop for a break.” Jason told him authortively before taking them straight to the top of his apartment in just a couple minutes.

It didn’t take much longer than that before Jason was ushering Dick down the fire escape and directing him through the window from his terrace once he disengaged the security he had set up on it. (Jason making sure to stay close to Dick just incase he wavered and needed him to stabilize him.)

It was really only once they stepped inside and Dick stiffened in shock that Jason remembered the unfortunate state of his home (courtesy of Green) before his revenge trip. Jason had completely forgotten he had left it that way.

Cursing under his breath as he took in the mass destruction surrounding them, he didn’t have time to think of an explanation for the broken furniture, punch holes in the wall and overall disarray before Dick was whirling on him, headache apparently forgotten as he exclaimed in concern “Oh Jason! What happened?! Did someone break in? Are you okay?”

“Uh..” Jason was a bit too embarrassed to admit he had done it himself, and briefly contemplated going with the out Dick had provided him about a fight breaking out in his home—  before deciding that using that excuse would only make him look more stupid because who would he let outsmart him enough to enter Red Hood’s home uninvited?

in the end Jason just waved his hand and avoided answering altogether. “It’s nothing just— the bedroom is still fine. Come on.”

Dick still seemed shocked but whatever he saw in Jason’s expression once the domino mask was removed apparently helped him come to a conclusion because he didn’t push for any further answers and simply removed the borrowed helmet with a click and hiss and then let himself be lead into Jason’s room.

Jason sat him on the edge of the bed before telling him he’d be right back and quickly left the room to grab some sealed bottles of water from the fridge.

He was back in less than a minute and handed one to Dick, a picture of concern and seemingly ignoring the state of the living room as his attention was focused solely on Dick. “How’s your headache, do you still feel sick?”

Dick was quiet, and he gave a small shrug, his eyes dropping down to the water bottle he was holding on his lap. He opened it after a moment and took a sip, seemingly for something to do before placing it down on the nightstand.

Jason noted with concern, that Dick looked pale and had that same fragile look he had been wearing on the rooftop, as though he was barely keeping himself together. Jason thought Dick had been feeling better with their late night flying, but evidently that hadn’t seemed to last. He just wished he knew what Dick was thinking.

-

Dick felt like he was in a fevered dream. He didn’t ever think he would be invited back into Jason’s home. Not since that day so many months ago. Sitting on that couch, drinking piping hot tea and being so close to spilling his soul to Jason might as well have been a lifetime ago with all the things that had happened inbetween since then and now.

But Dick would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it a million times. Of how different it might have gone if he had chosen to share what had been weighing on him instead of deciding to carry it himself like he always did.

He just didn’t think he’d get another chance to do so.

Especially after the disaster of his return from Spyral and the anger blazing in Jason’s eyes as they turned more green than blue. Nevermind being invited back into Jason’s apartment; Dick didn’t think Jason would be interested in hearing him out at all. Let alone offering a shoulder to cry on.

It had been awhile since Dick had seen Jason that furious. It had almost reminded of the way things had been between them before they had gotten close but after Red Hood’s identity reveal. Back when Dick sometimes felt tired for always being the one to reach out, to put up with Jason’s mood swings and anger and being his punching bag. But at the same time being unable to stop because he knew for every dozen of rejections there was a tiny step forward. And that enough was worth it. That Dick would keep trying to mend the relationship a thousand times if that’s what it took because that’s his Little Wing, that’s his brother who he mourned, that’s his miracle who returned to him. Dick loves Jason so much there was nothing he wouldn’t forgive, nothing he wouldn’t put up with, nothing he wouldn’t do for him. In the same way he would for all of his siblings.

So of course the same sentiments remained when he came back from Spyral and was met with resistance from his precious little brothers. It hurt, of course it did. Of course every time Tim gave him the cold shoulder or Jason lashed out it was like carving out a new bloody gouge in his already shattered heart. But pain was something he was used to. And there was no amount of pain that would be enough to make him give up on his relationship with them.

So like a fool, he kept hoping. Even when he promised to respect their space when they made it clear they didn’t want him around. Even when he stopped bothering to try and explain his side of the story of why he accepted the mission. Still, Dick kept hoping that maybe even if they blamed him for everything, they might someday come around to accepting him back into their lives. Dick had been ready and willing to accept whatever they were willing to give him. Even mere crumbs would have been fine. So long as he’d be able to know that they were doing well and were safe.

But despite his perceived optimism, Dick had never truly expected for things to turn around with them so completely. For those same sentiments of love he had felt for his family to suddenly be returned to him. To receive this week both Tim’s quiet and calm patience with him, and Jason using that gentle tone and affectionate nicknames that was usually reserved for rare moments when someone was critically injured. It was such a drastic and sudden change Dick could hardly believe he wasn’t just dreaming and about to wake up to his brothers hating him again!

At first Dick had suspected that Damian had somehow put them up to this, but watching Tim and Damian interact these past couple days quickly dispelled any notion of this being anything except their own actions and decisions.

And now… the most shocking turn of events of them all; Dick actually found himself back in Jason’s apartment! The one place he never thought he would be allowed to step foot in but had replayed in his mind a thousand times. Those lonely nights when he wasn’t sure he could go on, Dick would torture himself with memories of Jason cupping his face and offering his trust. Except in his dreams the conversation always went differently from reality.

How many times had Dick wished for another chance, another opportunity to talk to him? To tell him (tell someone, anyone!) the truth about how badly he was struggling to keep his head above water. To express how being everyone’s safety net for so many years had taken a toll on him and that this time he was the one who needed to be caught.

All this time, it had been nothing but empty wishes to cry himself to sleep to. But now that Dick was actually here… was Jason really giving him another chance to confide in him? Could it be possible that his offer to talk to him still stood, despite all the time that had passed? More importantly, did Jason even remember it? It had been so long ago, Dick wouldn’t blame him if he forgot. If the memory that Dick had never been unable to let go of, was not nearly as important on Jason’s end. (Such a possibility made something burn painfully within him, and Dick was almost afraid of finding out the answer.)

Dick was snapped out of his thoughts at Jason’s voice, and with a startle, Dick realised he had been zoning out.

Slowly bringing his gaze up to meet Jason’s, he noticed he had now taken a seat beside him and was wearing a serious expression, Dick wasn’t sure how long he must’ve been trying to get his attention. “Dick? You with me? I asked how you were feeling”

Dick froze. His head was still throbbing, his headache had been getting progressively worse and he was just grateful it hadn’t entered migraine territory yet. But somehow he knew that wasn’t what Jason was asking about right now.

“I’m fine.” Dick answered automatically, the words short on his tongue even when he felt like screaming at himself for his knee-jerk reaction. ’Are you kidding me? That was your freaking chance to talk to him! To tell him the truth! You’ve imagined a scenario like this a million times and you goddamn blew it before it could even begin!’

Thankfully before Dick could spiral in his internal lecture any further, Jason interrupted with a snort of disbelief. “Yeah, No. Try again. How are you really feeling?” Because of course he could see right through him.

And Dick wasn’t sure whether to cry in relief or shame. A part of him contemplated throwing himself in Jason’s lap and breaking down into sobs, while the other part of him wanted to get up and leave rather than face him. Because it wasn’t really about facing Jason, it had always been about facing himself. The closest Dick had ever gotten to admitting how badly he was doing was that explosive fight with Bruce in the cave during his first week home from Spyral. The argument had gone so poorly and off the rails that it had completely set Dick back. Now just the thought of being so vulnerable again left his tongue feeling heavy and his throat closing up.

But Jason had to be Dick’s personal angel because when he noticed how Dick had clammed up and was having trouble getting the words out that he wanted to say,  he had gently prompted “Are you still feeling tired?”

And even though Dick knew Jason was just making a reference to what Dick had earlier blurted out on the safehouse rooftop, Dick couldn’t help feeling like he had just been thrown back in time to the last time Jason had offered to listen without judgement. Once again Dick was being given the precious opportunity to be honest. Except this time Dick didn’t want to stubbornly refuse it.

Even though he was scared that telling the truth was the same thing as ripping open all his open wounds and leaving himself bare to bleed out onto the ground; Dick felt like he was on the cusp of a pivotal moment. That if he didn’t push himself to take this first step, he might not survive the wait till the next time the opportunity rolled around.

So with what felt like needing more courage than what should have been required, Dick gave a jerky nod of his head in answer.

Jason observed him for a quiet moment, and Dick closed his eyes so that he couldn’t see whatever thoughts were flashing through Jason’s eyes. (Dick didn’t want to see his own pitiful appearance reflected in Jason’s eyes either.) But even without looking at him, the care in Jason’s voice was unmistakable as he suggested like it was the obvious solution “Then take a rest.”

And if Dick thought he was doing a pretty good job of holding himself together, it wasn’t until those words were once again spoken to him from Jason that his heart immediately started picking up even faster. Because it was a line that he never thought he’d get the chance to hear for a second time. Dick sucked in a breath as he quickly opened his eyes to stare searchingly at Jason, hope blooming desperately over the familiar words. Did Jason understand? Did he remember the last time he said that to him? He must have, after all what were the odds that he would say the exact same thing if he wasn’t recalling the same memory Dick was. If he hadn’t also considered a different outcome from that day.

Dick swallowed and then licked his lips that felt like they had suddenly gone dry. Testing out the waters, he tried to start off the same way he had the last time. “Its not that simple…”

Jason studied him for a long moment as Dick held his breath waiting for his response. And then, as though he was reading off the same script that had been written from that day, Jason replied softly “Isn’t it?”

Dick could feel the tears budding over the innocent suggestion. The last time Jason had said the same thing, Dick had stopped himself before he broke, stumbling over trying to get his thoughts together before locking everything back up altogether. (Because how was he supposed to explain that he wasn’t allowed to rest when everyone was always depending on him? Such a concept had been lost on him the moment he became Nightwing and he hadn’t dared rested since.)

But this time Jason didn’t let him even start any of his pathetic stammering in trying to explain his reasoning. Jason merely placed his a hand calmly on his back (Dick didn’t even notice when he had slumped forward, barely holding himself up,) and gently guided Dick to lie down the rest of the way on the comfortable bed until his head hit the pillow.

“Rest.” Jason told him again, leaving no room for argument. His own silent assurances warm and supportive between them as he carded a hand through Dick’s unruly hair: ‘You’re allowed to take a break and sleep. You’re allowed to break down. You’re allowed let go.’ is what Dick hears. (Jason was always been good at saying more in between the lines, just like Dick had always been good at picking up the unspoken meanings.) “It’s just us right now. No one else is here.” ‘You can be vulnerable in front of me, I won’t judge you.’

And god, how Dick wanted it to be true. Just the very thought of allowing his weary soul to let down all its walls and let his persona of always being strong and unbreakable drop- To let someone in to his impregnable fortress and allow himself to be cared for without a single mask in place. To spill all the secrets he’d been keeping that been slowly but surely killing him.

Dick wanted to let his masks go. He wanted to trust in Jason with this. It was now or never. And Dick wanted to say it. Say everything that he should have said all along the last time Jason offered to be there for him. Dick mentally tried to psyched himself up for it. He could do it! He could! And yet… and yet—!

“I can’t, I can’t! Little Wing..!” Dick’s voice broke in a hiccuping keening whine as he grabbed Jason’s hand tightly and squeezed it to his chest, tears he hadn’t realised had begun falling now blurred his vision as he shook his head in a last ditch effort to dissuade him that he shouldn’t, that Jason didn’t want to see him this way! All broken and a mess and nothing like the strong brother he once admired.

Unflinchingly facing Dick, a large hand cupped the side of his face, so gentle, far more gentle than what Dick deserved, and proved the opposite. “It’s okay Dickie.” ‘You don’t need to be strong for me. I won’t ever think less of you. Let me be here for you the way you always have been for everyone else. You mean so much more than just what you do for us. You’re my brother and I love you.’

All the understanding and care that Dick had wanted for years was suddenly being offered to him in awaiting arms, solemn looks, and silent reassurances and Dick wanted so badly just to reach out and take it. But was he really allowed to be so selfish? His eyes fluttered closed as he took a shaky breath. Just this once… couldn’t Dick let himself be comforted?

“Jay…” Dick sniffled, and he wasn’t sure when that turned into full blown sobbing but Dick was already completely falling apart and had been for so long, there was no use in trying to resist it any longer. He sat back up and immediately crashed into Jason’s chest, arms wrapping around him and forehead landing on Jason’s shoulder as he took giant gulping heaves in an effort to try and keep from imploding any farther. But once he started, it felt impossible to stop. If anything it only made his shuddering become more pronounced and his cries louder the harder he tried to rein it in. With all the weight of what he had been shouldering for months; getting killed, the betrayal from Bruce, becoming Agent 37, and dealing with it all completely alone- Dick finally broke down.

Jason wrapped his arms around him to hug him just as tight, not judging him for the snot and tears nor seemed to mind the mess he was making of himself at all. He didn’t call him pathetic for his whimpers. Didn’t tell him he was overreacting or demand he pull himself together when those whimpers turned to wailing. In fact he did the opposite, seemingly encouraging him to let out every buried feeling he had been repressing all this time. Jason let Dick cry as he rubbed his back rhythmically in reminder that he was there with him.

“Please.. please! Jason!” Dick begged, his words barely distinguishable in his hoarse voice as squeezed his eyes shut, his tears showing no sign of stopping. ‘Please don’t go, please don’t let me go because you being here is the only thing keeping me afloat and it feels like I’ll die if you leave me to deal with this alone again-!’

But Dick’s fears were unfounded, Jason read him as easily as he’d been reading him all night. “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised softly, tightening his hold and leaning his cheek on Dick’s head as he moved so that they were both lying on the bed. And once again, Dick heard everything Jason was really saying: ‘You can cry or scream or even punch me if you want to. And when you’re ready, we can talk for as long as you need. You won’t be alone anymore. I’m here.’

Dick felt seen in a way he never had before, and as much as it was a relief, it was also frightening that he was dumping all this on his brother. He couldn’t help the bubbling panic from spilling over “‘M sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” ‘I’m sorry I’m such a burden, I’m sorry you have to deal with this. I’m sorry for being weak and breaking down’

“Shhh, you’ve got nothing to apologise for Dickiebird.” ‘Don’t be stupid. I’m right where I want to be. So don’t worry about anything else and let me take care of you.’

This time when Dick understood Jason’s touchingly unspoken words, tears of pain mixed with ones of gratitude as he lifted his head up just enough to give Jason a watery smile. And even though everything still hurt, this time his smile didn’t feel faked. “Thank you.” It was a thank you for so much more than just that current moment. And with the look on Jason’s face, Dick knew Jason understood all the things he hadn’t said out loud too.

Dick wasn’t sure how long he ended up staying tightly held in Jason’s embrace, but eventually he registered that he was starting to drift off in exhaustion. His eyes had slipped closed and he felt himself being carefully adjusted in a more comfortable position with a thick and soft blanket pulled up over his shivering form.

Dick’s body felt heavy and his throat was raw and sore but he could sense Jason hadn’t left him and was still lying beside him on the bed. It was a comforting thought, knowing he had someone watching over him after going so long needing to survive on his own in Spyral. And perhaps Dick could blame it on how he had gotten used to cuddling Damian all night, but he impulsively gave in to his clinginess and immediately turned to curl into Jason’s strong chest. Jason let him, and held him protectively as though he was shielding his brother from the world and willing to do so as many times as Dick needed.

Dick felt a feather-light chaste kiss being pressed to the top of his head (definitely something Jason had only done because he thought Dick was already asleep,) as words from their last unfinished conversation echoed back to him in both a reminder and confirmation. “You’ll be okay. I have you.” It was a tender little promise that was made just as much for Dick’s sake as it was for Jason, whispered so quietly but uttered with such resoluteness and conviction that Dick had no choice but to believe him.

And for the first time in what felt like years, Dick felt like someone had finally caught him while he was falling.

Maybe Jason was willing to be his safety net after all.

-

Chapter Text

-

When Dick woke up and first opened his eyes, he felt groggy and disoriented. Dick was alone and for a moment he couldn’t help the panic rising in his throat that he was still in Spyral.

Sitting up with a quiet gasp, the multiple blankets on the bed he had been swaddled in did nothing to stop the bone-deep cold that overtook him, ravaging every inch of his body in painful shivers. Dick knew this wasn’t an ordinary chill. There was something wrong with him, he just didn’t know what. He couldn’t explain this strange numbness that had been sweeping through his body. Couldn’t give a reason for why his limbs ached and tingled with the quiet need for human contact. All Dick could think was that it was another thing about him that was broken.

It had started after his first month in Spyral. This uncomfortable feeling that only grew the longer he went without any prolonged physical contact with anyone. It had caught him off guard, to say the least. After all, Dick had lived on his own in Blüdhaven for years. It wasn’t like he was unused to going prolonged periods without having anyone to hug. And sure sometimes there had been days when he felt so lonely and empty inside he would end up curled up under heated blankets for hours, but Dick had always been able to make do. Especially with the amount of skinmanship he had thankfully built up with the people in his life. A slap on the back with a friend, a high five with the delivery guy, a hand on the shoulder to his colleague. And that wasn’t counting the copious amount of physical affection he could bestow upon his siblings anytime he ran into them. (Which he tried his best to be as often as he could.) So really, this thing Dick had about desperately wanting to cuddle was… fine. Dick had it totally under control! He knew how to manage it without it becoming a problem.

…It was only that Dick maybe hadn’t realised just how much he had relied on those casual touches of affection he had bestowed upon the people he ran into on a daily basis to keep those wayward feelings of loneliness at bay.

Not until Spyral took all of that away from him so abruptly and drastically that Dick was woefully unprepared when he suddenly found himself adrift and left with less than scraps of physical touch than he was used to.

It shouldn’t have hit him as hard as it did. And yet, Dick was so affected that if he didn’t know better he would have sworn he had been doused with Ivy’s cuddle pollen.

But there was no pollen to blame it on, it was just Dick and his own messed up misery. His own neediness. Because that was the only thing he could think to call it. What else would it be? Normal people didn’t feel like clawing their own skin off if they didn’t get within close enough quarters of someone to feel the warmth of their skin. Normal unbroken people didn’t feel like they were constantly on the verge of tears, becoming more and more withdrawn into themselves the longer they went without receiving a hug like some sort of baby who needed pacifying. Normal people weren’t so desperate for the most basic level of physical touch that they were willing to get injured just for the hope for an impersonal and clinical hand to stitch him up. (Except that didn’t even happen. When Dick got hurt in Spyral, he was expected to patch himself up alone.)

That had only made all the feelings clawing inside of him even worse.

The problem was now that Dick was back, he became alarmingly aware of how badly he wanted it. In fact it felt like it went beyond just want; Dick knew he was being ridiculous but he truly felt like he needed it.  Needed it like he needed air. (Because sometimes it felt like a human touch was the only thing that could prove that he was really still alive) Like a short snuggle was fundamental for him to function without breaking down. But how could that possibly make sense? How could he even voice something so humiliating without looking like someone so deplorably clingy? God, it was humiliating the way Dick was behaving. The way he would track the movements of any bare skin that got within a few inches of him and get lost in thought over how badly he wanted to feel it against his own. How desperate for it he was. Like a slut. because it didn’t matter that what he was craving was never sexual in nature. The very fact that he was thinking this badly about being touched proved exactly the kind of disgusting person he was. Dick would even scheme on how if he just leaned in a little, or “accidentally” brush against someone’s bare arm—

Clearly Dick had reached a new low. He was so incredibly pathetic. What’s worse was that while he was in Spyral he could somewhat rationalize it. He had been lost and hurting and wanting any form of comfort. The comfort from another warm person gently holding him was all he could dream of.

But now? What exactly was Dick’s excuse for the way he coveted his family’s hugs? (In fact Dick was so desperate for it, it didn’t even need to be a hug, he would take anything!) It made Dick feel so guilty about the way he had been soaking up the physical affection that he had been given lately when they didn’t know how what it meant to him. After all he doubted they would have been comfortable being so near him if they knew how greedy and selfish Dick was; if they were to know how badly Dick wanted to just throw himself at them and begged to be held and never let go. After all, his family wasn’t the most affectionate bunch and the last thing Dick wanted to do was make it look like he wasn’t respecting their boundaries by giving them space with what they’re comfortable with.

Especially because no matter how needy he was feeling, it felt wrong to accept any type of hug from someone if they didn’t actually want to hug him. Dick didn’t want to become any more of a burden than he already was. He didn’t want physical affection to become nothing more than a chore to fulfill. It was why Dick had been so careful around Damian ever since coming back. Dick wanted nothing more than to pull him into his arms and keep him tucked into his side at all hours of the day but instead had forced himself to hold back and let Damian be the one to initiate whatever he was comfortable with. He knew it was out of character, that Damian was probably wondering why Dick wasn’t just playfully scooping him up and cuddling him like he normally did. But if Damian knew just how badly Dick wanted the physical closeness, then Damian would make sure to give that to him despite whether or not Damian actually enjoyed the contact himself. Dick wasn’t going to do that to him. Nor would he do so with his brothers. It was better to just let them approach when they decided to instead of asking for anything or letting them know about how cold he felt without it.

So ignoring the shivering wracking his frame, Dick wrapped the thick comforter around him and slowly sat up. It took a moment of blinking heavily and staring at the unfamiliar bedroom before it finally hit him where he was. “Jason” Dick whispered, his face feeling hot when he remembered the way he had bawled on him. It was no wonder his eyes felt so puffy, he couldn’t remember the last time he had cried like that, let alone in front of another person!

But Jason had been so sweet to him. Jason had been gentle and patient and called him Dickie and Dickiebird which he knew was Jason’s way of expressing love without flat out saying it. So maybe it was okay that Dick had broken down in front of him. Maybe Jason really hadn’t minded.

So with a tentative hope, Dick tried to ignore the twisting of anxiety in his stomach and tried to tell himself that things were finally starting to look up and everything was going to be okay. He had Damian, Tim and now Jason all back in his life. This was what he wanted! Everything else he could deal with, so long as his family was talking to him again. So long as he wouldn’t be alone anymore. Of course Dick wasn’t stupid, he knew there had to be a reason no one was telling him that had his brothers have such a complete shift in view, but just for a little while Dick didn’t want to worry about that. Was it so wrong to simply want to enjoy their company after going without it for so long?

Which brought him to wondering where Jason was. Dick had selfishly hoped that he would have stayed with him, even though he knew it was childish of him to assume so. He was a grown adult and so was Jason. Even though Dick didn’t think anyone was ever too old for sleepovers, (he had participated in multiple cuddle piles and bed sharing with the family whenever one of them were injured and forced to recouperate in the cave), but this was clearly not one of those circumstances and Jason was under no obligation to stay. He had already done more than enough letting Dick get his tears all over him and even giving up his bed.

(Dick could still remember the warmth of having his brother’s safe and protective arms wrapped around him, chasing away the chill of loneliness he so badly wanted to escape from.) Now Dick wrapped the blankets tighter around himself in a pitiful imitation as he moved to get up. There was no use staying in bed any longer if he was just going to be alone.

Dick wondered how long he had been asleep for. He doubted it was more than a couple hours since he hadn’t been able to get a full night’s sleep in weeks. Just as well if it hadn’t been very long because he’d need to get back to Damian before his baby bat started worrying! He hoped Tim was doing okay watching him and that they were both behaving…

Dick shuffled out of the room in his blanket burrito, not expecting to see the two people he had just been worrying about already in the kitchen!

Damian was sitting at the table menacingly polishing one of his ornate daggers, while Tim and Jason seemed to be in the mist of a whisper-argument. For a moment Dick simply observed; their faces serious as Tim frantically pointed to his open laptop. Jason gave an uncaring shrug and a nasty grin while he leaned in closer to whisper something else while Tim looked like he was losing the last of his patience as he shook his head with a glare. Jason responded with a careless roll of his eyes. There was an air around them both that made it seem like whatever they were arguing about had been going on for awhile.

Dick’s head felt a little too fuzzy to try and lip read, and he didn’t get a chance to try and overhear anything since Jason glanced in his direction and immediately locked eyes on to him.

For a second Dick worried that Jason would mention his break down and ask how he was feeling in front of Damian and Tim but thankfully Jason didn’t say a word about it. He just gave him a soft look and an almost-smile which no one else would notice was there if they didn’t know what to look for, and commented “Hey, you’re up.”

The way it was phrased gave Dick pause, he wondered if he had slept later than he thought. He didn’t get a chance to ask what time it was when a blur was suddenly launching towards him.

With an affectionate gaze, Dick watched as Damian all but ran into his arms. In fact it looked like he had been about to fling himself into a leaping hug before remembering they weren’t alone and giving a stiff nod in greeting instead. “…Richard.”

Dick couldn’t help the softening of his eyes. He knew Damian only called him ‘Baba’ when they were alone, but that’s didn’t mean he stopped seeing Damian as his son for even a second. So Dick couldn’t help his lips tugging upwards in a smile as he replied “Hey Baby Bat” and it took everything in him not to open his arms wide to ask for the hug he so desperately wanted. Instead Dick forced himself not to be needy and ran a hand gently through Damian’s soft hair instead. “Sorry if I worried you kiddo.” He murmured just for his ears. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

Damian sniffed with an air of haughtiness “See to it that it does not happen again.” and then finally gave in and wrapped his arms around him. “But I am pleased that you were able to get adequate rest… even if it was with Todd’s company.”

Dick practically melted over the hug, and with the added bonus that despite his begrudging tone, Damian was taking his brother’s sudden presence much better than he thought, Dick’s mood was steadily improving and he dropped a kiss to the top of Damian’s head in answer.

“So what are you both doing here?” Dick looked back at Jason who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and watching the exchange “You invited them over?” Dick asked, unable to contain the happiness in his voice over that. After all, Dick knew exactly how Jason felt about his private space. Bringing Dick over was shocking enough, but he couldn’t believe he had actually let Damian and Tim into his home!

Jason snorted. “More like they invited themselves.”

“Oh.” Dick tried not to look worried as he deflated. He didn’t want Jason to be upset with them. But maybe Dick should have also had a conversation with Tim and Damian about respecting people’s personal space… Jason wasn’t the type to like someone barging in on him like that. He didn’t want Jason to feel like he was being ambushed in what was supposed to be a safe space.

Jason sighed “Relax Dickie, it’s fine. Come sit and eat your breakfast instead of thinking too hard.” He announced having pushed himself off the wall and appeared beside Dick before he even noticed.

His warm hand found it’s way to the center of Dick’s blanket-covered back, gently pushing Dick forward and leading him towards one of kitchen table chairs where he could sit. Dick immediately felt some of the tension leaving him from the close contact as he asked in confusion “Breakfast?” What time was it? He thought it was still the middle of the night!

“I guess more like Brunch now. It’s past noon.”

“What?” Dick asked with wide-eyes, looking for a window and practically gaping when there was sunlight streaming in. He had actually managed to sleep the entire night! Maybe Jason had stayed with him after all… had he held him all night? It was the only thing Dick could think of that would have gotten him to sleep without awakening to nightmares. The thought of having his younger brother needing to cuddle him should have been embarrassing but all Dick felt was gratefulness and love for his attentiveness, especially after the way Dick had unloaded everything on him last night.

Ducking his head to hide his bashful smile, He heard Damian move to take a seat beside him, with Tim sidling up on his other side.

“Hey TimTam everything alright?” Tim gave an exasperated smile at the nickname and Dick tried not to grin over it as snuck a hand out to ruffle his hair. It had only been a few days since Tim had shown up at the safehouse but he surprisingly hadn’t gone back to the Tower except to grab some more spare clothes before essentially moving in with him and Damian. There had been some snarking and bickering from Damian but it was a far cry from the viciousness Dick had expected. (Just another thing he had missed when he had been gone. He hadn’t gotten to witness the pair getting close!) At least Dick was getting to see it now. Seeing Tim go all ‘big brother’ mode on Damian never failed to put a smile on Dick’s face. And Dick was proud to say that things between him and Tim were becoming less strained by the day. Hence the playful nickname that Dick hadn’t felt like using a few days ago but now felt more comfortable teasing him with.

“Shouldn’t that be my question?” Tim replied as Dick tuned back in to the present, noting Tim was looking at him with concern as he took in Dick’s cocooned state. “Are you alright? Are you feeling cold?” He asked him softly, moving to place a cool hand against Dick’s forehead. And Dick knew it was just to check his temperature but he couldn’t help the shudder of relief from the skin-to-skin contact. He would have completely slumped if not for the absolute control he had over his body that forced him to hold himself rigid instead. Still, Dick couldn’t stop himself from leaning in to the touch, just a little. His eyes fluttering closed.

He bit back the whine that nearly escaped his lips when Tim removed his hand, wishing the contact had lasted longer but knowing he had no reason for it. Especially when Tim announced he didn’t have a fever. It made Dick feel even more guilty for worrying him. He wasn’t sick- he just didn’t know how to explain the chill he was feeling was due to his own messed up neediness.

Internally scoffing at himself, Dick was determined to ignore it and force himself to get over it. ’Remember normal people don’t need to constantly be held. Be normal!’

Dick turned all his attention to the plate in front of him, glad for the distraction to focus on as Jason had plated a pile of freshly baked waffles for him. “Jay? You made this for me?” Dick asked with a touched smile. Jason was more of an eggs person, (or a proper english breakfast after Alfred had introduced him to the concept) so he knew the man had gone out of his way to make something sweet to suit his tastebuds.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s whatever.” Jason waved him off like it wasn’t a big deal “These two gremlins already ate so you better catch up” It was said casually but there was no way Dick wouldn’t notice the multiple pairs of eyes on him watching like a hawk and clearly wanting to make sure he ate everything. Dick bit back a wince, knowing he had definitely been worrying Damian and Tim with his lack of appetite lately, and it seemed he had just added Jason to that roster now too.

Not wanting them to fret over him, he quickly made sure to take a big bite. Even if he barely had an appetite and would definitely start feeling nauseous later, there was no way he wasn’t going to show his appreciation for Jason cooking for him. And as soon as the sweet soft dough still warm and with a hint of cinnamon hit his mouth, Dick was practically moaning. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was. “This tastes amazing Little Wing!” Dick exclaimed enthusiastically, eagerly pouring syrup over it and freshly whipped vanilla cream ontop to make it even more dessert like.

He looked up to catch the hint of a red blush on the tips of Jason’s ears as he turned his back to Dick, he clearly hadn’t been expecting any compliments. “Yeah well it’s definitely better than anything you’d make.”

Damian immediately piped in loyally to rebuttal “That is not true!” And then turned to look at Dick “Richard your pancakes are delicious, and they also have the delightful benefit of coming in the superior shape of a cat.”

“Is that so?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow and a teasing smile.

Dick felt his own face heat, now he was the one feeling shy. “Thanks little D. Glad to know you’ve been enjoying them.” The first time Dick had tried to make one, it had taken several trial and error runs to get the shape into something that even resembled something somewhat feline, complete with wonky blueberry eyes and a chocolate chip nose. But the first time he had succeeded and seen the wide-eyed look on Damian’s face when he served it to him… well that had made the effort all worth it. It had been back when Damian had first become Robin and their relationship was still rocky. Seeing that smile of childish wonder and knowing he had been the one to put it there over something so small had been a pride Dick held close to his heart even today. He wondered if Damian felt similarly about it and that was why he liked to request it whenever he had stayed over for a visit.

“Perhaps you could show them your skills tomorrow.” Damian suggested haughtily, full of pride on Dick’s behalf.

Dick chuckled softly “I think Jason’s definitely got me beat in terms of cooking skills but I’d be happy to make everyone pancakes tomorrow. If you’ll be joining me for breakfast?” Dick asked, looking at Jason since he assumed he’d be kicked out and sent back to the safehouse soon.

“Well I couldn’t possibly miss out on cat-shaped pancakes now could I?” Jason drawled teasingly, as he placed a small bowl of sliced strawberries in front of Dick, silently but poignantly encouraging him to eat more. “But if you’re making breakfast tomorrow then I’ll handle dinner tonight.” Jason decided easily, as though he hadn’t already gone out of his way to cook for everyone this morning.

Dick couldn’t hide the surprise from his face if he tried. It was well known that after Alfred, Jason was the best chef in the family- the taste of the waffles was proof enough. (Not to mention the state of the art kitchen Jason kept in his apartment!) But he was also notoriously private about it, normally only willing to cook for anyone on very special occasions or by means of intense bribery. And now here Jason was just offering him a full dinner? And not just Dick but for Damian and Tim too?

“Oh Little Wing!” Dick couldn’t help coo-ing, unable to stop himself from getting up and pouncing on him for a hug. Jason was definitely spoiling him now and while Dick hoped it wasn’t out of any misplaced guilt or apology, he certainly wasn’t going to ignore how sweet of him it was to offer!

“‘s no big deal” Jason muttered, and to Dick’s surprise- even let himself be hugged without immediately shoving him off and even casually draped his arms around Dick. Dick had noticed Jason being more tactile since the previous night but he thought that had only been because Dick had been such a mess. He hadn’t expected the affectionate sentiments to be carried over the following day! Dick wasn’t about to question the good fortune and stayed close to Jason as long as he dared, soaking up the comforting touch before starting to worry he was acting too needy again and forced himself to let go despite wishing he could have held on foreve.

Jason just lightly poked Dick’s forehead “Go finish your waffles.”

Dick took the hint and sat back down, unable to stop smiling as he picked at the waffles. (He didn’t notice how pleased Tim and Damian looked at seeing him looking happy.)

It was only after he finished his brunch did Dick notice a strange sort of tension begin to rise between his uncharacteristically quiet brothers.

“Dick…” Tim started, his voice hesitant.

“Why don’t we go to the living room.” Jason suggested, cutting in. Dick shot him a look, but to his surprise the mess from before was all but cleaned up. There were a few big trash bags stuffed to the brim (of what Dick assumed was broken furniture pieces) near the doorway that still needed to be taken, and the tv seemed to have been strategically moved likely hiding some damage to the wall, but there was no more broken furniture or shattered glass in sight. The overturned bookshelf was back to being upright, with everything put back in it’s place.

It was such a stark difference from what Dick had seen the previous night, he wondered how heavily he had been sleeping to have slept through all the noise of cleaning it up. Dick also had some suspicions on why Jason had most likely had a Lazarus-Pit episode or his need to hide it, but he wasn’t going to push Jason about it if he wasn’t ready to talk about it. (Especially after the courtesy of Jason doing the same for Dick the previous night.) Dick just hoped Jason hadn’t hurt himself in the process. He hadn’t noticed it last night when he had been so overwhelmed with everything, but now that he was paying attention was Jason moving a little stiffly? Dick narrowed his eyes, vowing to keep an eye on him. No one was allowed to be hurt in his presence and get away without receiving his mother-henning!

“Dick…” Tim started again once everyone was situated. The tension in the room suddenly sky-rocketed, and Dick shifted nervously, uncomfortable with all the attention focused on him. Tim’s face was serious, as was Jason’s and Damian’s. Dick suddenly felt like he was in the middle of an intervention.

Jason opened his mouth as if to say something when Tim looked too nervous to continue. But before he could, Tim suddenly burst out “When was the last time you took a vacation?”

What? “A vacation?” Dick blinked owlishly a little confused at the unexpected direction of the conversation.

Tim nodded as Jason scowled at him. “Yes. A vacation. A holiday. A break. Literally anything that had you not working or stressing. I was thinking that since you’ve come back from a taxing mission, you deserved to relax a little and take some time for yourself to enjoy. Moreover the 4 of us haven’t had a chance to properly celebrate your return.” Tim blushed a little when the reason why they hadn’t bothered to get together despite Dick being back for a solid month hung awkwardly in the air, but Dick graciously brushed over it.

“It’s okay, you guys really don’t have to do anything, I know you’re all busy. I’m just happy to see you. Besides, you know it wouldn’t be safe for all of us to be away at the same time.”

Tim shook his head “That’s not the point, we want to. It’s what we should have done in the first place.” He frowned lightly at Dick’s reminder “And I’m sure Batman could handle things on his own for at least a little a few days. We wouldn’t even need to go that far away if you don’t want to.”

Jason had been suspiciously quiet through all this, and his eyes were most definitely green as he burned a hole in the wall with his glare the moment Bruce had been mentioned.

Dick held in a sigh. This was exactly what he had been hoping to avoid. He had meant it when he had told Bruce that he hadn’t wanted his own issues with him to get in the way of the stronger relationship he had been building with everyone. Jason clearly knew some of what had transpired between them but Dick hoped Tim hadn’t found out too. Or god forbid Damian!

…Wait, hadn’t Jason mentioned something about talking to Bruce about his loyalty to Dick? If Jason had been as riled up as he looked to be, did that mean he got in a physical fight with him? Was that why Jason looked like he was in pain? If Bruce had hurt Jason the way he had hurt Dick, Dick wasn’t about to let that slide!

As if knowing he was being stared at, Jason moved his gaze and caught Dick’s eye. He looked a little sheepish, a little guilty, but definitely not sorry about it as he gave a wolfish smirk. It made Dick instantly re-evaluate his previous assumption. Now the more likely option was that Jason had been the one to blow up at Bruce and attack him instead of the other way around.. but if that was the case, how bad was it and how far did he go? Jason wasn’t really one to hold back, but Bruce wasn’t one to just take it without fighting back. ’Oh Jason…’ While he may have had good intentions to defend Dick’s honour, (which sounded exactly like something his literature-loving Little Wing would be thinking,) Dick really didn’t think it was worth standing up for him if Jason had gotten hurt in return! Dick worriedly looked harder at Jason, trying to scan if anything was wrong or any signs of hidden bandages. (It was unfortunate he couldn’t tell anything from the loose t-shirt he was wearing.)

And what of Batman? Jason wouldn’t have left him in bad enough condition that Batman couldn’t solo patrol would he? Dick tried to give Jason his best reprimanding look just in case. Yeah, at this rate there would definitely be no holidays for Dick anytime soon. Not that it mattered, Dick hadn’t taken a vacation in years and he wasn’t about to start now.

Tim didn’t seem to get the memo. “If you’re worried about going too far we could always head to one of the cities close by… like Jump city… or Metropolis.” Tim gave a knowing smirk in Jason’s direction, who immediately gave a sharp look back, lips pulled back in a silent snarl.

Dick felt like he missed something. Did Jason not like Metropolis? 

“-but I guess that wouldn’t be much of a vacation.” Tim was still continuing innocently, as though they hadn’t been holding a silent conversation with Jason with his eyes through all his suggestions. “How about a beach?”

“…a beach.” Dick repeated slowly, thinking of the gloomy and probably toxic waste filled Gotham bay near the harbour. That was the closest thing they had to a beach of any kind.

“That’s right. A nice relaxing beach.” Tim was already sending Dick pleading puppy dog eyes which he knew Dick was weak to. “We can make it a weekend trip, stick to somewhere close enough that we’d be able to drive to. I’m sure we can all think of a few names who’d be willing to discreetly cover for us for a couple nights, plus we can always zeta tube back if there’s an emergency so it’ll be fine. Please Dick?”

Dick wasn’t sure why Tim was so insistent on this little excursion but he could admit, having some time away from here with all it’s bad memories, and getting to spend some quality time with his brothers did sound really nice. Plus Tim had a point, they all knew enough ways (by means of friends or favours) to get them back home quickly if they were really needed on the hero front. And while Dick wouldn’t have felt as encouraged if they were going far enough out to need to fly there by batjet, he supposed a mini holiday and a bit of a roadtrip was a lot more do-able. In fact the more he thought about it, the more he thought it didn’t sound too bad at all.

“I’m sure Damian hasn’t gotten the chance to go on a little getaway yet…” Tim added. And even though Dick had been more or less already convinced, hearing that tipped him over the edge. Dick knew now he definitely couldn’t say no.

Not when Damian looked up at him and said in his little haughty tone that he only pulled out when he was trying not to show how hopeful he was about something “I would not be opposed to the idea…”

“Well I guess that settles it then.” Dick laughed ruefully, ruffling Damian’s hair. Because if Damian of all people -who never wanted to miss a single day of patrol as Robin- was pushing for this too, then it must be something he genuinely wanted and Dick was hard pressed not to give him every happy experience he could. In fact, why hadn’t Dick thought of this sooner? Of course Damian would enjoy a vacation! Maybe Dick should look into taking him to Disneyland for his next birthday…

“Great! I’ll plan everything out then!” Tim said excitedly, looking like he was about to grab the laptop and start typing out an itinerary.

Dick made an agreeable noise and glanced at Jason who had been suspiciously silent this whole time. He had a tight expression on his face- was he not into this whole beach trip idea? Before Dick could talk to him, he realised he wasn’t looking at him at all, he was looking at Tim and seemingly holding another silent conversation with him. Tim’s shoulders slumped, and Jason let out a sigh. Dick suddenly got the feeling that this whole conversation was nothing but a distraction from what they really had on their minds.

Dick frowned, feeling irritated. He wasn’t a child who needed a lollipop after getting a shot from the doctor. Whatever bad news they clearly were avoiding telling him, he didn’t need to be coaxed with a trip to soften the blow. “Whatever it is you want to tell me, just say it.” Dick snapped.

All eyes immediately turned back to him, and Damian silently tucked himself into Dick’s side, his presence calming Dick down.

Tim opened and closed his mouth floundering, and it was Jason who ended up taking the lead. “Do you remember our talk yesterday? When I told you something had happened that got me to see things differently?”

Dick nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“Well, it’s about that. We..uh, look we were emailed some security footage of the cave. You were in it.”

Dick blinked, still not understanding why Jason looked so grave. “Okay.. so it was what? A security breach? Was I compromised?” He asked, sitting up straighter. His heart started beating faster in his chest in fear as his breathing picked up. The last time he had been unmasked it had gotten him killed!

Jason winced “…You and Bruce weren’t masked, but even if you were, there was enough context in what you were talking about that made it pretty obvious who you both were.”

Jason was still talking but it felt like all the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. Dick couldn’t breathe. “No…No…” He was going to throw up. He was going to scream. It couldn’t be that he had undone everything he had gone to Spyral for. The entire point was to protect his loved one’s identities! It would be the world’s biggest joke if he ended up destroying all that after the mission was already over. God… if Dick’s family was in danger because of him… Dick would have preferred to have just stayed dead. He could never be able to live with himself.

He could hear shouting going on around him, but he might as well have been under water with the way nothing was registering over the sound of his own panic. Had he just doomed his entire family?

It was a pair of small hands desperately gripping his own that had Dick slowly coming out of his spiraling as a young tearful voice quietly begged “Baba, please breathe.” Dick never wanted to be the reason Damian sounded so frightened so even though he was confused on what was going on and why it was so important to breathe, he forced himself to obey and finally inhaled a choking breath into his burning lungs.

“That’s great Dickie, now take another.” A different voice softly spoke next to him, guiding him through another shaky inhale as he felt a light tap to his arm to guide him through the seconds. As Dick started coming back to himself he recognised the second voice as Jason this time.

The encouragement kept up until the pressure in his chest slowly lessened. And when Dick opened his eyes which had been squeezing shut at some point without him noticing, Dick found himself folded over with his head between his legs. Tim was crouched in front of him holding a glass of water to his lips. Dick swallowed it down greedily, the cool water hitting his dry throat.

Wiping a few stray tears, he sat back up but kept his eyes on his lap where Damian’s hands were still holding onto his own. Dick couldn’t bring himself to meet the concerned looks he was sure he was getting. He didn’t deserve if it he had gone and compromised everyone’s identity.

Thankfully no one pushed him for eye-contact. Instead it was Jason who broke the silence. “I’m sorry, I should have explained it better. I didn’t mean to freak you out. Your identity wasn’t the issue here.”

That got Dick to snap his head up, staring at him with wide desperate eyes. “What do you mean?”

It was Tim who answered. “First of all, even if it was, none of it would have been your fault. You didn’t ask for the footage to be leaked. The cave is supposed to be a safe and secure space with the highest security. And we all come and go from there all the time, it could have been any one of us caught on camera and I know had it been one of us in that video instead of you there’s no way you would have blamed us. Not to mention, if someone wanted to hack into the cave with bad intentions, they most likely would have been trying to get to Batman. You would have been a victim caught in the crosshairs.”

Dick still looked agonized over it, but before he could even open up his mouth, Tim held a hand out to stop him until he finished explaining. “But like Jason said, it’s not an issue regardless. To start with, the video was so heavily encrypted that there’s probably only a handful of people in the world who would have been able to crack the footage to open it; and the ones who could would have had to already know about us or be an ally trained by Oracle or on par with her skills since it was done in our signature bat-style which isn’t something that’s easily taught. You know how paranoid B is about things like that. I’ve also been looking everywhere for even a hint of the data signature but the video hasn’t been leaked anywhere. And I’m not talking about the normal places either. There hasn’t been even a whisper of it on any of the global hidden servers. There also have been no threats or suspicious demands. It’s like whoever sent it had already accomplished what they wanted simply by getting us to watch it. In fact we think.. we think the person who sent it didn’t have any malicious intentions. That maybe it’s someone who was worried about you in their own way. Maybe someone who has already known who you are.”

Dick swallowed as he tried to slowly digest that. It wasn’t a bad theory, and if this was coming from Tim who had yet to be wrong when it came to his hunches (even the crazier ones like ‘Bruce still being alive’), then there was no doubt that he had researched this at every possible angle before reaching this conclusion.

But even if Dick trusted him, it would still help to know more if he wanted to get his heart to stop feeling like it was on the verge of stopping. “How can you be so sure?”

Tim chewed on his lip before letting out a sigh. “There are a lot of reasons but what had me the most sure was because of Damian. He was the only one who received a different version than us. If it was really someone who wanted to mess with us why would they take the time to make sure he didn’t see more than he should have? It was a surprising display of tact and care towards both him and you to make sure he wouldn’t see something upsetting.”

Damian immediately piped in with “Well all that shows is that whoever sent it is an imbecile who has taken me for a naive fool! I am no child and can certainly handle watching whatever more there is to see! Richard, Drake and Todd are being unnecessary. They are refusing to allow me to see the missing parts of the video when I had not been aware that crucial information had been missing!”

Damian looked ready to throw a tantrum over it, and it was clear this was a discussion they had had before since Tim was able to completely ignore his outburst with ease as he continued. “Based off of the personalities of our enemies and their known morals, it’s highly unlikely they would be emotionally invested enough to take the comfort of the youngest Robin into consideration before distributing the video to us. Especially when they sent it to him first, weeks before either of us got it. In contrast, it would make a lot more sense if this came from someone who already knew us as a family. I compiled a list of everyone who knows about us, ranging from those in the Justice League, to friends, to potential allies, I even looked at the possibility of it being from ourselves from another dimension or timeline. Needless to say, I think we can rule out that we need to worry about this being about unmasking you. Due to the… content I’m pretty sure this was about something else. I don’t think this was meant to cause us harm.”

Jason cut in, “Well, not so fast. It could also be about wanting us to turn on Bruce. I mean we can’t watch that and not think he’s a shitbag. But Babybird makes a valid point; I wouldn’t be surprised if it was sent from someone who was trying to look out for you, Dickie. Not that they were in the right for doing it this way. Well-intentioned or not, it was a pretty fucked up thing to do to violate your privacy like this.”

“I don’t understand. What exactly was the content? Wasn’t it just some footage of Bruce and I talking about a case?” Dick asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had not in fact outed his entire family’s secret identities like the had feared.

But to his surprise, this was when Tim and Jason clammed up again. It was Jason who broke it with a blunt but apologetic “It’s from when you just came back from Spyral and confronted Bruce about why he kept it a secret that you were alive.”

And for the second time that morning, Dick felt like he just got the wind knocked out of him. It may have been a month ago, but there was no way he could forget the last fight he had with Bruce. He hadn’t spoken to him since. It had been one of the few times in his life Dick had ever been so honest with him. In desperation, Dick had let every single ugly feeling out. All the raw emotions he would normally never share had been pulled out of the locked box in his heart. It had been his last effort to actually communicate with the man he thought of as his Dad. And it had failed spectacularly.

For that personal private moment where Dick was open and honest and completely maskless in every sense of the word— to be shared without his consent…

This time Dick knew it wasn’t just a passing thought; he really was going to be sick. Gagging, he shoved himself off the couch and rushed to the bathroom. Slamming his knees on the ground just in time to start heaving into the toilet bowl.

His stomach sadly expelled all the waffles as Dick’s head spun. Trying to process that his brothers had witnessed a part of himself he had never wanted them to know about.

Then again, was he really that surprised? ’There’s never any fucking privacy in this family! If it’s not undisclosed trackers on my person, it’s tapping into personal cell phones, or security cams. So why did I think this would be any different? The only things that ever stay secret in this family are when it’s never voice aloud!’ His internal screaming not helping his nausea at all, Dick threw up a few more times before he finally finished with a low pained moan.

(Thank god his brothers at least understood that he needed a moment alone to collect himself because if they had tried to follow him in here and had him give up even more privacy after everything, Dick would have lost it.)

Dick eventually caught his breath and after flushing what he had vomited away, he weakly pushed himself up on shaking legs. Gripping the edge of the sink for stability, he looked through the cabinet for some mouthwash, and thankfully found a spare toothbrush still in its packaging that he could use.

Out of his old habit, he avoided looking at his reflection, (he could already imagine what a wreck he must have looked like.) So he closed his eyes instead and tried to get his breathing steady.

By the time he left the bathroom, he wasn’t surprised to see Jason, Tim, and Damian hovering outside, anxiously worried and waiting for him to emerge.

He didn’t even make it back into the living room before Damian was rushing towards him and clinging to him “Richard are you alright?”

Dick felt his tense body relaxing from the contact, the affectionate touch exactly what he needed to help calm himself down, even if it meant needing to tuck away any lingering feelings of vulnerability and put on a strong face for him. “I’m fine Baby Bat.” He murmured, turning to look back at Tim who couldn’t meet his eye, and Jason who was making a point to do the opposite and was making sure to hold his gaze.

Dick could barely muster up a wan smile in return. “You said you three are the only ones that saw it?” He croaked, trying and failing to hide how much the thought of someone outside of the family watching it was effecting him.

Tim nodded, eager to help Dick feel better in any way, and speaking with more confident reassurance now that they were discussing facts instead of emotions. “As far as I’m aware, Jason and I were the only ones to receive the footage in it’s entirety. It doesn’t look like any part of the video was sent to anyone else, as I could only track it’s digital trace to three sent emails which we can presume was Mine, Jason’s, and Damian’s.

Dick didn’t let himself think about just how much of that unpleasant memory it meant they watched. “And you haven’t been able to track it back to the sender?”

“No luck yet. Whoever sent it was good. Everytime I try to trace it back I get re-routed back into the Bat Cave mainframe. I could have Oracle take a look though and see if she could-”

“NO!” Dick cut off immediately, startling even himself with how loud he had protested. “I mean no,” He tried to repeat in a calmer voice “I don’t want anyone else looking at it.” ‘It’s bad enough you already did.’ hung silently in the air.

To his credit, Tim didn’t fight him on it, and just nodded. “Understood. I’ll keep working on it then.”

Dick nodded but he still felt queasy “You said… you said Damian got the first email and yours came later… what if in a few weeks it gets sent out again to someone else?” He asked in a small voice.

Tim stepped forward and (when there was no resistance from Dick,) carefully placed a hand on his arm. “Not possible. I sent an encrypted virus to attack the video. Any copies of the file would be completely corrupted and unable to open. The only ones that still remain are our own versions and the original from the cave- which I can absolutely get rid of too, I’ll just need to sneak into the cave to do so but you know I can. I promise Dick, no one else will be able to watch it. In fact no one else will even be able to see it again including us if that’s what you want.”

Dick nodded, letting out an exhale of relief. He still wasn’t happy about it but at least he wouldn’t need to be paranoid of any more people seeing him that way. Well, except for whoever the sender is themself.

“….I want to watch it.” Dick suddenly announced.

Tim exchanged a glance with Jason before stating hesitantly. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea..”

Dick held back a glare. “It’s a private conversation of me. I’m the only person in this room with any right to see it at all!”

Tim raised his hands placatingly and stepped back. “I know Dick. I only meant that it might be upsetting to be reminded of some of the things you spoke about. But you’re right, if you want to watch it, it’s your call.”

“Show me it.” Dick demanded with a serious look.

Jason locked eyes with Dick calmly, silently asking ’You’re sure?’ without saying a word. And something about his steady and non-judging gaze had Dick breathing a little easier. His words from the previous night came back to him, and Dick realised this was Jason being on his side, just like he had promised. It made Dick feel warm inside, and though he wasn’t quite up for a smile, he did give him a nod of gratitude.

Jason didn’t say anything else but went to go get his laptop. Instead of taking him back into the living room, he instead carried it back into the bedroom and set it up there.

He pulled up the email and then placed the laptop on his bed.

“I figured you want to watch it alone but if you need us,”  ’if you need me,’ his eyes said “we’ll be right outside in the living room okay?”

Jason waited for Dick’s confirmation and then went to herd Damian out of the room too. “Come on little D, give Dick some privacy.”

Of course Damian refused to go so easily. “No! I want to stay with Richard and watch it with him!”

And while Damian’s desire to stay close was normally adorable, right now there was nothing worse in Dick’s mind than Damian finding out about all the things he had spoke about; like the many sacrifices Dick had made for the family, or his fragile mental state, or his death, and especially if he found out about his Father hurting Dick when Dick knew Damian respected and held Bruce in high regard.

Dick was not going to be the one to burst his bubble and ruin his relationship with Bruce when Damian’s relationship with his mother had already been destroyed beyond repair. So Dick didn’t even want to think about the kind of emotional damage listening to Dick pouring out all of his grievances would do to his kid if he watched that footage. All Dick knew was that he would never ever want Damian to feel any sort of guilt of the choices Dick made (or was forced to make) Nor would he want Damian to ever feel like he was being put in a position where he needed to choose sides between him and Bruce.

All Dick wanted for the boy he saw as his own son, was for him to be happy, and if possible; for Damian to hold onto some of that youthful innocence that came from being a child for as long as he could. Damian had already been forced to grow up so quickly and witness things he should have never had to at his age. The last thing Dick wanted to do was add to that trauma by having Damian witness some of the things Dick had been dealing with behind closed doors. To hear all of Dick’s secrets and come to the realisation that things in the family weren’t as rosy as they seemed. Not when Dick had spent so long purposely shielding it from Damian to the best of his abilities all this time.

Perhaps that’s why he was far less calm than he intended to be when he panickly insisted  “Absolutely not! And I want you to promise me you won’t try and find a way to watch it!” Dick’s breathing was high and pained.

“I do not see why I cannot be permitted to see something that Drake and Todd already saw. I was not under the impression that there was more to see when I received my email and this must be rectified. Why are Drake and Todd allowed to know but I am not? I am your Robin, not them!”

“Because!” Dick replied in a shrill voice, only a little hysterically “I didn’t want them to see it either and if I would have gotten the chance to ask them not to watch it, I would have. But since it’s too late for that now, I’m asking you. Dami please. It’s— you’re not missing out on anything by not watching it. All it is, is me being emotional and embarrassing myself.”

Damian still seemed skeptical that Dick was playing favourites to Jason and Tim, so Dick knelt down so that he was eye-level with the youngest, and tried to convey all his earnesty. “Baby Bat, If there’s something you want to know about me, you can ask me personally. Just like you did when you talked to me about whether or not I faked my death. You don’t need to watch some video to know more about me. You already know me in ways no one else does.”

Damian was quiet for a long moment, seemingly searching Dick’s face for sincerity. And after what seemed like an eternity, the scowl smoothed off his face to something gentler. “Very well Richard. I respect your request. I will not betray your trust or your privacy.” And then his small hand was touching Dick’s cheek as gentle as a kiss, and Dick wanted to cry when in a quieter voice, only for Dick to hear Damian whispered “Baba, I promise. I will not behave dishonourably and watch that which you do not want me to see. I trust that you know what is best and I will not undermine your orders. You’re my Batman remember? So please do not be distressed anymore. Robin will always listen to his Batman. You may breathe easy.”

Damian must have noticed that Dick had been shaking, and God, what did Dick do to deserve such a precious and kindhearted son? Dick would fight anyone who dared to say his Dami wasn’t an absolute sweetheart! As it was, it was taking him everything not to coo and drop a hundred kisses all over his face!

Dick settled for placing his own hand ontop of Damian’s which was still resting on his cheek for a long moment, simply basking in the moment of connection with him through touch as they both silently conveyed how much they loved each other.

-

Jason pretended he hadn’t been watching the emotional scene through the doorway, and wrapped an arm around Damian’s shoulder once the younger stomped out of the room. Damian miraculously didn’t shove him off, and Dick was once again struck with the thought of how close Damian had gotten to all his brothers while Dick had been gone. It made something warm spread inside his chest, even if there was a bittersweetness to it that he hadn’t been there to witness the development first hand.

’Well, at least I get to see it now.’ He reminded himself with a small smile. It was a good thought to hold onto when he was about to watch the video of himself. At least no matter how bad it was, he could tell himself that the humiliation of his private conversation broadcasted to his brothers was worth it if it had ended up bringing them back into his life.

So once he made sure the bedroom door was shut and there were no lurking or eavesdropping siblings hanging in the hallway, Dick sat on the bed and slowly pushed play.

Dick only managed to make it through the first couple sentences before he had to stop. Tim was right, he couldn’t handle watching himself like that.

Hearing that much raw pain in his voice and knowing that his brothers had seen him at his most vulnerable was making his stomach twist and clench. He didn’t need to watch what was caught on camera, not when Dick lived through it in person and could clearly remember every single thing he had spoken about; could recall every single pained word and Bruce’s reaction to it.

It was a different kind of shame knowing that his brothers had watched him bare his heart to Bruce, only for their Dad to prove how little he truly cared about him. That he had never been the ‘favourite’ they all thought he was.

The more Dick thought about it, the more he was starting to feel like the walls were closing in on him. And suddenly, being in the same apartment as everyone who had watched him in that video and had drawn their own assumptions from it just felt like too much to deal with right now.

Before Dick could think twice, he was yanking the headphones out of his ears, snatching his shoes near the foot of the bed (where Jason must had removed them at some point the previous night,) shoved them on his feet, and then went into Jason’s closet to grab one of his spare grappling hooks.

Dick silently slipped out of the room and out the fire escape before anyone could even notice he was gone.



-

Chapter Text

-

While Dick was watching the footage in the bedroom, the trio of brothers convened in Jason’s living room.

While Jason flopped down on the couch and Damian stiffly took a seat, it was Tim’s fidgeting that gave away that something was wrong.

Jason let out a sigh before sitting up a little more. It seemed that despite the fact that they were back on speaking terms with Dick, the ‘older brother’ role he had taken up in his absence wasn’t just something he could switch off anymore. “Alright Timbo, what’s on your mind?”

Tim glanced at him and then looked down at his hands, his expression turning into that look he got when he would furrow his brows and calculate the likelihood of a theory being true despite already knowing he was right.

“I lied.” He finally blurted out. Before hastily correcting himself “Well not lied exactly but, I withheld information. When Dick asked how I was sure I knew that this wasn’t the work of an enemy. It wasn’t only because of Damian’s edited video, there was something else that was edited out in our videos too. Part of Dick’s panic attack was removed. Either the sender didn’t want us to see him humiliated like that, or the sender knew what the panic attack was about and didn’t want us to know. Either way, it was for Dick’s benefit. A true enemy who wanted to sow discourse between us wouldn’t have bothered to do that.”

Jason’s expression was stony as he tried to recall what part of the sickening footage Tim was referring to. He vaguely remembered Dick getting extremely upset and Bruce saying something to push him into a panic attack at some point during the argument, but by then Jason had been wrestling to keep control over Green and his memory of the exact details were a little spotty when he had already been raging over everything else about Dick he had learnt.

But if what Tim was saying was true, and that what Dick had been panicking over was important enough for some sort of purposeful time skip to have taken place, Jason definitely wanted to look into it more. If not re-watch that entire scene again. (Though he wasn’t about to betray Dick’s trust a second time by going anywhere near that video a second time without making sure he was fine with it first.)

Tim seemed to be thinking along similar lines, he clearly had more on the subject he wanted to say. But with a sharp shake of his head, his eyes darted to Damian for a split second, making it clear that whatever he wanted to discuss would not be appropriate for Damian’s ears.

That sent a foreboding feeling down Jason’s stomach but he gave a nod of understanding. The conversation would have to wait till later.

For now they both turned their attention to the youngest who was uncharacteristically not paying attention to either of them and was clearly distracted with worry.

They both tried to engage him in conversation for a few minutes before giving up.

“He’s fine Little D. But let’s give him some time. Dick’s still processing. He’ll come out when he’s ready.” Jason reminded him gently.

Tim wanted to agree but for some reason he felt a flicker of anxiety, as though something was wrong. “Well, he has been there for awhile... It wouldn’t hurt to check on him, just to make sure he’s okay and doesn’t need anything.”

Damian had stood up before Tim had even finished his sentence. “Finally an idea that poses some merit. I will go-“

“Not you.” Jason cut in apologetically, pulling Damian back down onto the couch by the back of his shirt.

Damian immediately bared his teeth and pulled out a knife. He was about to hold it to Jason’s throat before the older continued, not unkindly but matter of factly  “We all know how much you mean to him, but that just means If he sees you he’ll try and act strong in front of you and will hide if anything is actually wrong.”

Rather than the expected argument, it was a flash of hurt that crossed Damian’s face which then turned to a familiar glare of harsh anger.

Jason and Tim both braced themselves for the outburst they expected to follow, but what they hadn’t expected was the words that came with it.

“I KNOW THAT!” Damian yelled “I know, okay? That is why you both should have been there for him sooner!” Damian’s face crumpled and he looked so much like a kid in that moment it sent a pang to the brothers hearts.

“Ba- Richard only let me see he was hurting when it got so bad he was no longer lucid. All the other times he was always stubbornly focused on me instead of himself. But if you both had been here too then maybe…” Damian trailed off wistfully as both Tim and Jason bore identical stricken looks on their face.

It was Jason who broke out of his stupour first and made sure to meet Damian’s eyes with sincerity  “…we know we hurt Dick by isolating from him but we ended up hurting you too in the process. I’m sorry little one.” He told him in the league dialect. “I’ve missed you.”

Damian’s eyes got wide, his breath hitching. He hadn’t heard Jason speak that language with him since the time he consoled Damian about Dick’s death.

Before Damian could find the words to respond, Tim moved and knelt down in front of him and added his own sincere words. “We weren’t there when we should have been but we’re here now and we’re not leaving you or Dick. I’ve also missed you.” Tim finished in Arabic. His pronunciation wasn’t as smooth, but the fact that he had purposely made sure to learn how to say that line was enough to cause Damian’s heart to melt.

Feeling childishly emotional, Damian bit his lip to hide the fact that it was wobbling and let both of his brothers pull him into a hug, blaming Richard for conditioning him into accepting physical affection when he normally would not allow such closeness.

“You will not be forgiven so easily.” Damian grumbled, ignoring the way his voice sounded raw and his eyes were stinging. “But you admitting to your incompetence has been dually noted. You may work your way to earning my forgiveness by being there for Richard from now on. And for listening to my expertise on the matter because I have been the one here all along and know how best to be there for him. Finally if you upset Richard in any way I am kicking you both out!”

Jason held back the automatic retort that this was his apartment and also his safehouse they had been staying at- because he had no intention of doing anything worthy of being kicked out regardless. He wanted to be there for his brothers, just like he should have been doing in the beginning. Both Dick and Damian.

Thinking similarly, Tim answered “That’s fine with me.” with a smile in his voice as he started to pull away from the embrace. He was surprised when Damian tightened his hold on him and Jason before they could end the hug.

With his face hidden Damian admitted in a mumble. “…And I suppose I see you both as valuable members of the household and may have missed you as well.”

That was practically an entire declaration of love and being family in ‘Damian speak’ so he quickly pulled away after that and steadily kept his head turned away with only his burning red cheeks to show for it. (There was no way he wanted to see Tim or Jason’s twin grins over his admission.)

“Awww, I knew you loved me, little D.” Jason teased with a wide smile as he leaned forward to try and ruffle Damian’s hair.

“Tt! Don’t be ridiculous! You are merely tolerable on occasion.” Damian then immediately launched into his usual threats of cutting off Jason’s hand if he followed through on that motion— hair ruffles were only tolerated by Richard and no one else. 

While the two bickering brothers were occupied and sufficiently distracted with their antics (which was quickly turning into an actual sparring match as Damian launched himself at Jason with bared teeth and a blade unsheathed after more of his goading), Tim silently got up and slipped off towards the bedroom to check in on Dick.

’Just a peek.’ Tim told himself, that anxious feeling from earlier that something was wrong still having not gone away ’Only to make sure he’s okay.’

—Tim raced back into the living room with a panicked expression on his face mere seconds later. “Dick’s gone!”

-

When Dick snuck out, he didn’t even know where he was going, and unlike the previous night where flying through the air had lifted his spirits, this time Dick just felt like he was running away.

It was also daytime, which meant using the grappling hook was too risky, (especially when he was so close to Crime Alley where people were more suspicious than usual.) So once Dick climbed down the fire escape, he tucked it away for now and began walking aimlessly as he tried to clear his head.

Dick couldn’t even say why he had suddenly felt so suffocated and felt the need to escape. All he knew was that it had been a long time since he’d last felt the building pressure in his chest like this. He wasn’t sure if it was a sob or a scream. But he could feel it budding in the back of his throat, itching at his teeth as it fought to escape the locked box he tried to shove it back down into.

’Do not break down right now. You did enough of that already.’ He told himself sternly. And it was true, the previous night, letting everything out and crying to Jason had actually felt good; cathartic.

But now he felt like he had taken a step back.

Even though he told himself it wasn’t like his family hadn’t seen many of his low points before. (They had after all seen him after a kidnapping, witnessed him tripping out on fear gas, they had seen him after a mission gone wrong, rescued him after hours of torture.) But the difference was those had all been moments when Dick was in a situation out of his control.

What was shown in that cave footage hadn’t been one of those times. The Dick on screen had chosen to let his walls down on his volition. No one had forced him into baring his heart like that or broken him down to the point of incoherency. Instead it had been the first time Dick willingly allowed himself to express just how badly he had been hurting and how Bruce’s actions had effected him.

So to suddenly have that moment of raw vulnerability shared without his knowledge… to know that his brothers watched him completely crack like that… Dick hadn’t been mentally or emotionally prepared for it. It felt like some of his deepest secrets had been laid out for his brothers to prod and dissect.

It was different from the previous night when Dick had gone past the breaking point in front of Jason, because at least that had been his own choice to confide in him.

…Unlike whoever distributed the video who completely took the choice away from him.

With a cold laugh, Dick realised why Jason hadn’t bothered to push him to talk yesterday, he probably aleady knew everything that Dick had been bottling up. Dick squeezed his eyes shut. He tried not to let it take away from the kindness that Jason and Tim had been showing him but it was hard not to start questioning things as doubt began to creep in. Had they only been nice out of pity and guilt? Did they actually care?

’No, don’t twist things in your head. It doesn’t matter what their primary reason for it was. You wanted them back in your life and at least now they know the truth.’ He tried to insist to himself.

Dick ran a hand frustratingly through his hair, his head aching from the headache that had never seemed to fully go away as he tried to sort out what he was actually feeling about all this.

Of course having his personal feelings shown to his siblings without his consent was humiliating.

But more than that, Dick felt ashamed.

He had never wanted them to see how much he was struggling. He had never wanted them to hear just how dangerous were some of the things he had agreed to do. He never wanted them to feel guilty or think that Dick hadn’t been willing to do it for them a hundred times over if it kept them safe. Because Dick never regretted a single choice that had kept his family safe.

And while he hated that the choice of them knowing about everything had been taken away from him, Dick could at least try and find the silver lining to it. It was unlikely he would have found the courage to share those parts of himself with his brothers. Just like it was unlikely he would have been able to fully describe exactly what had happened with Bruce that day or everything else they had spoken about. So maybe now that his brothers know the truth, they could understand him a little better. Maybe they would actually be able to see him for who he is instead of this “illusive perfect person with impossible standards” everyone expected him to live up to.

So really, the fact that they now knew everything, wasn’t something that Dick couldn’t get over. It wasn’t what he was truly upset about right now.

The more he pondered it, Dick supposed that the true reason it felt like someone was squeezing his heart between their fist was that watching the footage was like re-living that awful moment in the cave with Bruce all over again.

The memories of Bruce’s lack-of-luster responses to Dick’s cry for help (because that’s really what the entire confrontation had come down to,) had done more than just sting. And having it shoved back in his face in video format only further aggravated his emotional wounds as it brought it all back to the surface and forefront of his mind.

Dick knew Bruce wasn’t one for showing much emotion, let alone having a heart-to-heart conversation, but he hadn’t always been that way. Dick certainly had memories of Bruce being a little more forthcoming to a younger him. So Dick had laid it all on the table in the hopes that the man who he once saw as his Dad might at least try to reciprocate the honesty. But what Dick received back wasn’t enough.

Just remembering the way that conversation -if Dick could even call it that- had unfolded, brought a renewed stinging to his eyes. When had Bruce stopped behaving like his Dad? When had he stopped caring about what happened to him? Or more accurately, when had he stopped caring about him as a son instead started viewing him as a chess piece calculatingly needed for his missions?

When Dick thought back to how he had left things with him a month ago, a teeny part of him had hoped that maybe it hadn’t actually been as painful as he imagined. That maybe it hadn’t gone so significantly off the rails. That perhaps Dick was just remembering it more dramatically than reality and that his memories were simply warped due to his own upset at the time.

…However within watching just a few seconds of that footage, Dick already got his answer. It was all the proof necessary that it was exactly as bad as he remembered it being. He hadn’t dramatized it in his mind at all. 

Dick really wished he hadn’t gotten that confirmation.

Because as nice as it was that Tim and Jason had finally come around, the entire month of living isolated from everyone he once knew in a cramped safe house with barely any clothes and belongings to his name had been nothing but a cold reminder of what had happened to him.

Dick had been trying hard to move past it all but it was proving to be so much harder than he thought. It felt like at every turn there was yet another reminder of how estranged he had gotten from not only the family, but everyone in his old life who still thought he was dead or hated that he had “lied” about it. If not for his little Dami being with him, Dick feared he wouldn’t have been able to get through it at all.

Especially because it had also been hitting him a little too close too home with the similarities of when he had been fired as Robin and kicked out. Even more so since it wasn’t like Dick had any intention of using Bruce’s wealth right now.

If not for the little money he had thankfully saved up from his officer days and kept aside in a secret account, (Dick had learnt his lesson the first time he found himself cast out on his own and was never going to let himself be unprepared again!) he would have genuinely been in trouble.

As it was, Dick knew he’d need to look for a job soon so that he could provide better for Damian. (Which was a lot easier said than done considering he currently wasn’t in a very good physical condition.) Yet another weight on his shoulders that he knew he’d need to contend with sooner or later. Dick could only deny that nothing was wrong for so long when Damian was constantly pointing out how sickly he looked.

His physical condition was just a whole other Pandora’s box that Dick was not yet ready to open. (He really didn’t think he was up to handling any more bad news if something was actually wrong. Besides, whatever was going on with him, Dick was sure he’d been through worse. He was fine. He was fine.)

As if to remind himself of exactly what he was denying, the pounding, throbbing pain in his head Dick had been steadfastly ignoring suddenly increased to a stabbing sensation. Choking on a cry, Dick nearly stumbled as he brought a hand to his head, swaying to the side as he fought to stay upright from the sudden wooziness.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Ever since coming back from Spyral, Dick had been prone to getting frequent migraines that went from bordering on agony to completely debilitating and causing him unable to move from the human-shaped puddle he’d contort himself into on the floor from them. (If not for Damian having to coax him to the bed during those times, Dick probably would have been left to suffer from what felt worse than being tortured. Dick usually had blanks in his memory from how bad it got during those periods of time, but he was pretty sure he had been out of his mind in pain to the point where falling unconscious felt like a blessing.)

Dick just really hoped this wasn’t gearing up to be one of those moments. Because if it was, he knew he most likely wouldn’t be able to last long before passing out.

Dick had been trying his best to breathe through it and not let it effect him so badly whenever the migraine would show up out of the blue— he did after all have a way higher than most pain tolerance thanks to the vigilante life— and yet no matter how often the migraines persisted, Dick still felt completely caught off guard by the pain every time it happened.

’Get it together Dick. Are you really going to let a little headache bring you down? You’re fine. It’s fine.’  With his vision blurred with held back tears, and his arms unconsciously wrapping around himself in a self-soothing hug, Dick forced himself to try and straighten up and stumble forward. He had been walking aimlessly with his thoughts for awhile now and wasn’t exactly sure where he had ended up, but it would probably be a good idea to make his way back before the pain got any worse and he ended up face-down and blacked out in an alley somewhere. More importantly, he was sure his brothers had realised he was missing by now anyway and he didn’t want to worry anyone further.

Dick was so focused on trying to keep any hint of pain off his face while he remained upright that he almost didn’t notice when he nearly walked directly into two burly and imposing figures who were too busy questioning some random passerby to care that they were blocking the entire street.

Dick held in his scowl and moved to walk around them until he overheard one of their voices carry towards him. “We’re looking for the Red Hood. He’s needed in an ongoing investigation. When was the last time you saw him?”

Dick snapped his head up, his attention going to the two men as he calculatedly looked them over. It was easy to immediately pin-point that they weren’t from around here. One could always tell a Gothamite from an out-of-towner by the lack of a world-weary look about them. It was something that came with living in a city full of Rogues. Dick still remembered the words of a deadpan bartender from years ago “One way or another, you end up seeing a lot of shit. Can’t avoid it if you live here. And the longer you live here the more you start running out of fucks to give about it. Nothing phases us anymore ya-know?”

Dick came to understand exactly what that bartender meant. And seeing these two men now and the body language they were exuding, there was no way they had spent much time in Gotham before. So who the hell were they and what did they want with his Little Wing?!

Luckily, the gothamite they were attempting to interrogate was less than impressed. And even if he was, this was Crime Alley. Dick knew they looked after their own. And Red Hood (despite all of Jason’s denials,) had become someone the residents of Crime Alley adored and respected. No way would they think to rat out anything about him to a stranger.

Sure enough, the civilan barked a laugh “An investigation? He’s the Red Fucking Hood. We all know you couldn’t pin him down for nothing. He does whatever the fuck he wants and goes wherever the fuck he wants. Even if I did see him around, I ‘aint no snitch. I ‘aint telling you shit!”

“Well he’s not going to be able to hide for long. He should have stuck to slumming it in this Gotham shit hole instead of involving himself with someone of a way higher caliber.” The other bulky man sneered, puffing out his burly chest to try and look more intimidating “Even Superman might come looking for him soon.”

“I don’t know who you are or who you’re working for but everyone knows no metas are allowed in Gotham. That goes for your precious Superman too. He can take it up with Batman and so can you. So piss off!” The snarky civilian shoved past the 2 men and surprisingly they let him go. (Dick was relieved. If they had tried to stop him, he would have needed to step in to intervene and he reeeally wasn’t feeling up to a fight right now.)

But that begged the question on what on earth Jason got himself into. The Red Hood surely had a lot of enemies but these didn’t seem like the typical lackeys of some scorned crime lord. They were dressed in expensive suits, but were giving more bodyguard than mafia vibes. But why on earth would Superman be name dropped? It was obviously just a bluff, but an interesting name to choose to bluff with. Dick had a feeling it was used in the same way Gotham locals threw out the threat of Batman for everything to scaring naughty children from staying up too late past their bedtime. Which meant the two men had to be from Metropolis. Had something gone on in Metropolis that involved Jason then?

Dick felt uneasy but convinced himself that surely whatever Jason might have done couldn’t possibly be that bad. If it had really caused as big of a stir as was implied, then surely Uncle Clark would have contacted Jason about it by now. ’…Unless he already did but kept it to himself.’

Dick knew Jason hated when he got himself involved in Red Hood’s business, so he briefly considered letting it all go. Really, he could be blowing this entire thing out of proportion. It could mean nothing at all and that Dick was just overreacting and getting worried for no reason.

…But even if that was the case, the thought of his Little Wing being in trouble was a possibility that Dick wasn’t willing to risk.

Especially when the two men turned around and set their sights on Dick. Forcing a fake smile on his face, Dick prepared himself to turn on the charm and milk as much information out of them as he could. Or at least that was his intention until their loud voice of “Hey you! Pretty Boy!” shot through Dick’s skull like a ricocheting bullet.

Dick gasped in pain as his vision nearly whited out for a moment. The men were still trying to engage him in conversation but Dick was too busy trying not to throw up from the nausea-inducing flashes of agony that kept pulsing through his head to reply to their “Have you seen Red Hood around lately”

Dick’s migraine had officially reached a level of unbearable that he could no longer ignore and spurred on an immediate change of plan. Dick could always ask Jason about all this later. Right now he needed to get the hell out of there.

Dick might have mumbled out some half-hearted excuse, (he wasn’t sure if he said anything beyond the whimpers he was trying to shove down, when he could barely think straight.) But evidently he hadn’t been moving fast enough to get away from them because he felt a hand clamp down on his arm. “Not so fast Pretty Boy. Where do you think you’re going?”

The thought of these two Metropolis goons thinking they could overpower Dick was laughable. Except… right now Dick felt as weak as a newborn kitten. He could barely stand up. Everything hurt.

He weakly struggled to pull away, he needed to get somewhere darker and quiet. He didn’t care where it was. Just anywhere out from the sun which felt like it was piercing his eyeballs with dozens of razor-sharp needles, and the loud city noises of his surroundings.

With his attention waning, Dick almost didn’t notice the way one of the hands went lower to start caressing his ass. Dick froze, a humiliatingly panicked noise escaping his lips. Someone was saying something to him, a mocking voice talking lowly in his ear. But Dick couldn’t hear anything over the blind panic of his racing heart. His vision tunneled in and out of focus. No… No!  This was not happening! He was not about to just let himself be touched like this! Not again.

So somehow managing to compartmentalize all his pain, using up every ounce of remaining strength he had, Dick broke himself free of the hold and managed a vicious kick to the nether regions of one of the gropers.

Unfortunately, Dick barely managed to stagger a few steps away before angry shouts tore after him and hot breath was soon rolling down the back of his neck as on the men reached out to grab him once more, this time in retaliation.

Right as they could reach him, Dick was suddenly yanked out of their grip and pulled into a familiar body instead. Dick nearly crashed against a lithe chest that felt deceptively slim but held all the muscles that came with years of vigilante training, the lingering scent of coffee beans and faint vanilla wafted towards his nose. ’Tim?’ Dick thought dazedly. Squinting his eyes open just a crack, his vision swam for a moment but he nearly sobbed in relief when he recognised that it was indeed his brother who had found him in time.

But his brother wasn’t looking at him. While Tim’s arms remained steadily around Dick to hold him up, his eyes were narrowed as he leveled a glacier-temperatured glare at the two men.

If it had been Jason who had found him, Dick had no doubt that those two metropolitons wouldn’t have been able to leave without a few bullets in their bodies. But Tim had his own brand of intimidation.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tim’s voice was as cold as ice as he interrogated and threatened the two men. (Let it be known that Tim could be very fearsome when he wanted to be.) But it wasn’t just anger that was venomously dripping off of him, it was protectiveness.

Dick took a moment to process that. It was strange to have that protectiveness directed at Dick when it was usually the other way around. Strange but… not unwelcome. In fact it actually felt nice to be openly cared about like this. (Something that Dick felt unused to experiencing) It felt like love.

Tim had always been a kid in Dick’s eyes, he was his baby bird and always would be! But right now it felt like Dick was getting to experience what all the civilians must have felt when Red Robin showed up to save the day. This was the leader of Tim’s own team of Teen Titans. This was his little brother who was growing into a reliable and capable young adult. Tim was strong and confident. And even in his civilian clothes, it felt like he was exuding all the strength and confidence that Red Robin represented. (Dick was overcome with so much love and pride for him.)

So when Dick’s legs trembled and he was unable to stand any longer because his head started to feel like it was splitting in two, he let himself slump forward and sag into Tim’s arms. Trusting that Tim had him as Dick’s face fell forward into the crook of Tim’s neck in an attempt to block out the piercing sunlight.

Dick felt himself fading in and out of consciousness as the mounting agony refused to ebb and instead grew with every shaky inhale due to the noisy street surrounding them. He blanked out at whatever was going on around him as he tried to desperately breathe through the pain. Distantly, he felt a little relieved that he had already thrown up earlier because he felt even more dizzy and nauseous now, his stomach coiling up in a knot.

When Dick next came to, he found himself curled up on a flat surface with a jacket covering him, his head pillowed on a soft lap. A gentle but slender hand was shielding his closed eyes to try and block out more sunlight, while the other hand was stroking his hair in an attempt to soothe him. “…Tim?” Dick winced the moment his hoarse voice left his mouth. Too loud. It sent another shock of pain through him and Dick was barely able to bite back a whine.

Thankfully Tim seemed to have understood that Dick was in the middle of a migraine and extra sensitive to sound because instead of replying out loud, Dick felt a light tapping on his hand as Tim answered in morse code ”Yes, it’s me.” He then switched to tracing out the words on the back of his hand when he decided Dick was probably too muddled-headed at the moment to concentrate on decoding each morse code letter. ”We split up looking for you but I’ve notified the others as soon as I found you. Jason was on his bike but I asked him to go back and get my car so we can take you home without making your condition worse. He’ll be here soon.”

Dick didn’t dare nod, knowing that shaking his head would only make it worse, but Tim didn’t seem to be expecting an answer from him anyway since after a moment he went back to calmly running his fingers through Dick’s hair, and occasionally gently rubbing small circles onto the sides of his temple. It helped a little, but Dick was grateful that he didn’t need to try and focus on the conversation anymore. Not when he was using up all his energy to try and keep himself from crying from the pulses of increasing throbbing.

Dick tried to relax until the cavalry arrived, he really did. But the constant aching just kept getting worse. It wasn’t long before Dick was moaning from the flashes of blinding pain and started thrashing. He could vaguely hear Tim above him panicking trying to console him, but Dick barely registered it over the crippling agony slamming through him.

He did his best to hold in any more pathetic noises but he wasn’t quite sure if he succeeded. He simply didn’t have the energy to try and fake being fine. And while it was humiliating to be seen by his younger brother like this, Dick was in way too much pain to care. They had all seen him injured before so Dick didn’t think this was much of a difference. After all, what little was left of his invulnerable facade had long since crumbled after his brothers watched that cave footage anyway, so what was more embarrassing weakness on top of what he had already revealed?

Dick lost track of time again before he heard Jason’s voice demanding what happened. Though he was pretty sure he was talking to Tim, Dick still whined as the loud voice felt like an electric shock.

He then felt a pair of small hands gently cover his ears and realised that Damian was with them too. Relief hit him like a bullet train. Damian. Who had witnessed multiple of Dick’s migraine episodes by now and knew exactly what to expect. Hopefully he would tell Tim and Jason that Dick just needed to be somewhere dark and quiet to recover.

Dick might have passed out then, because he couldn’t recall how or when he had gotten into the backseat of the car, or the speeding journey home. Dick only came to when he was being lifted into Jason’s arms, practically cradled against his chest in what he could only assume was a princess carry (yet another moment for future-Dick to feel embarrassed over.) Current-Dick however, was simply grateful that he could turn and press his face towards Jason’s body to hide it from the harsh rays assaulting his senses.

However even with as carefully as he was being carried into the apartment, every jostling movement sent his head reeling. Dick winced as he let out another groan of pain. Everything hurt so badly, Dick wished he could simply pass out again. Instead he was forced to endure the excruciation as time passed in small bursts of lucidity.

At one point he found himself lying on a bed. Dick couldn’t think, he could barely breathe. All he could feel was agony; white hot and searing as though he was being cut open and prodded with a metal rod, burning him from the inside out. The pain was so intense Dick nearly bit his tongue off with how hard he was holding in a scream. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn he was getting a lobotomy!

Dick was openly crying by then, barely conscious of the whimpers escaping him. He could feel the soft caress of someone running a damp wash cloth softly over his face. Wiping away his tears and a cooling touch to his cheeks and then his forehead.

Strong fingers gently brushed through his bangs and lightly pressed against his forehead. Dick pressed earnestly into the touch, feeling like the pressure was lessening somewhat with his craving for human touch being satisfied. It felt like too soon those fingers were pulling away, and the touch was replaced with a cooling-to-heating pad placed atop his forehead. It may have been more helpful for the pain but Dick still selfishly missed the soothing hand instead.

Next, a silk eyemask was placed over his closed eyelids, helping to darken the room even more. Dick then felt an arm wrapping around his upper torso, ever so carefully shifting him upwards so that he was able to swallow when a small pill was nudged between his lips, a glass of water soon held to his awaiting mouth moments later.

Once he swallowed what he recognised as a pain-killer, he was gently lowered back down on the bed again. There was shifting as whoever was beside him must have been getting ready to get up. He was going to leave him-!

Dick reached out blindly, a soft cry leaving him at the thought of being alone. Of losing more human contact when he felt so vulnerable and weak.

Thankfully the same hand from earlier caught his flailing one and gave it a comforting squeeze as if to reassure him the person it belonged to wasn’t going anywhere. Dick breathed out in relief, finally able to relax.

The pain was still there, crashing over him in waves and threatening to drown him like a tsunami, he was sure his face was scrunched up in discomfort. But the hand holding his gave him something else to focus on. A warm thumb rubbed small circles onto the back of his hand, and Dick tried to focus on the soothing ministrations as his consciousness slowly floated.

-

Dick came back to awareness an undetermined amount of time later, the migraine still there but thankfully having let up enough for Dick to perceive small sounds without it feeling like a drill was burrowing into his skull.

There was no longer a hand holding his so Dick figured he was alone in the room again. But his family wasn’t too far away as Dick could just make out the sound of hushed whispers close by, probably outside the closed door.

“This isn’t normal… he’s never gotten migraines like this before.”

“Oh and I suppose you would know. Because it’s not like there is any way he could have been having them for years but hiding them from us… you know, like he hid everything else!”

“Shut up both of you! If Richard did not feel like sharing it was due to you not giving him a reason to! And it is obvious that his ailment is due to something that was done to him during his last mission. We need to find out what they did, and who was the one who hurt him so I can tear them apart!”

“Easy there tiger, no one is going to Spyral. Dick already finished with them and we’re not about to go messing up whatever he nearly killed himself to accomplish.”

“Might I also interject that we don’t even know if this is for sure due to Spyral. Dick’s heart stopped and we have no idea for how long. Did any of you really think there were no side effects from that? Because I looked into it as soon as I found out the truth. The research showed it varies from person to person, but what was most common was dizzy-spells, shortness of breath, fainting, anxiety, migraines, chest pain, muscle-spasms, seizures-“

“Enough! You’re freaking the kid out! Dick may not have any of that okay? He’s been fine so far. And if he isn’t, he will tell us and we’ll take care of it.”

“Akhi is correct. Richard is strong. …However perhaps Richard would benefit from a full body scan so we can be sure there is nothing wrong. Why can’t we take him to the cave? And stop looking at each other like that where you are clearly having a silent conversation. What are you not telling me!”

“Look Dick… wouldn’t feel comfortable going to the cave right now.”

“But why? Father could-“

“We are not taking him there. And that’s final. And don’t mention Bruce around him anymore, Damian. Trust me on this.”

“This has to do with the rest of the video I am not allowed to watch doesn’t it?”

”Is that what’s important right now? Besides you already promised Dick you wouldn’t watch it so let it go.”

”Then what are you saying we do? We are to simply wait it out while Richard continues to suffer?!”

“Maybe we should call a doctor… contact Leslie?”

“I’ve already brought that up to Dick before, he made it pretty clear he wasn’t on board with that.”

Dick drifted again before he could hear the rest of the conversation.

-

Dick came to again. The hand holding his was back, accompanied by a second hand petting his hair. There was a quiet lullaby being hummed in a low almost raspy voice. ’Jason.’ Dick was finally clear-headed enough to be able to recognise who had been with him.

The humming paused and Dick heard the quiet whoosh of the door being opened, followed by near silent footsteps approaching the bed. He assumed Jason was holding a silent conversation with whoever entered the room, because the next thing he knew he was once again being maneuvered upright with a glass of water held towards his lips.

Dick wasn’t as cooperative this time. He felt dizzy and sick, and the thought of drinking anything right now only made him want to heave.

“Come on Dickie, just a small sip” Jason’s voice pleaded in a whisper. Dick whined, trying to turn his head away “It’ll make Timbo here feel better…” Jason coaxed, alerting Dick who had joined him. Dick pouted, knowing he couldn’t say no to anything that would make his brothers happy.

Catching his huffing, “Grumpy” Jason’s voice teased (though the clear relief in his voice was also audible) as Tim moved the glass of water back towards him. Dick felt his lips tug upwards into the hints of a smile, and even managed a few swallows of the drink before he immediately felt nauseous again and accidentally choked on the water.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay.” Tim soothed as he quickly moved the glass away and rubbed his back until Dick stopped coughing.

Feeling exhausted again Dick let himself be moved back into lying down as the pair discussed something in voices too low for Dick to catch. The last thing he remembered was the cold-to-hot pad being changed out for a new one over his forehead.

-

When Dick came back to himself for the final time, he felt a small and familiar warm body curled into him. For a moment Dick simply basked in the feeling of having Damian as a familiar weight pressed into his side. The nightmare of his death was still something that weighed heavily on him. Dick couldn’t believe he really got the chance to have him close like this again. “Dami?” Dick whispered, his voice rough.

“Baba!” Damian exclaimed, though he made sure to still keep his voice at a quiet volume. “How are you feeling? Are you alright?” He fretted anxiously.

Dick nodded and then winced. His headache was still pounding but it felt like it had at least left migraine territory and was heading back down to the kind of ache he could force himself to put up with.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m guessing I had a bad one this time… how long was I out?” Dick asked as he ran a hand down Damian’s back, wanting nothing more than to pull him in closer and snuggle him close.

Instead Dick forced himself to reign in his neediness and busied himself with removing the eye-mask instead as Damian answered in a tight tone “Nearly two days.”

Dick blinked and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the dark room. He was back in Jason’s bedroom, the lights were all off and the curtains had been drawn. Dick hummed quietly in answer. That was actually better than he thought. One of the really bad ones had knocked him out for nearly four days. Damian had only informed him later that he had been practically inconsolable during it. Dick hoped that wasn’t the case this time. His memory was always a little hazy during the time of a migraine, all he could really remember was being in pain.

But as he fixed his look on Damian, Dick could guess this time hadn’t been that great either. “Oh Baby Bat, c’mere” Dick held his arms open and Damian needed no further prompting before throwing himself against Dick’s chest and holding him tightly.

Dick held him just as close, leaning his cheek on the top of Damian’s hair. Damian was silent, but that didn’t mean Dick didn’t hear all the things he wasn’t saying: ’You promised me it wasn’t something for me to worry about but you haven’t been getting better. What if you end up getting worse? I’m scared this is becoming more frequent. What aren’t you telling me? Why did you leave?’ Dick didn’t have the answers to assure Damian’s fears. All he could do was hug him closer and murmur apologies to him. Damian was still hiding his face but Dick felt a patch of dampness begin to form on his collarbone, and he swore his heart shattered.

The one and only thing that mattered most to Dick as Damian’s parental figure was for Damian to be happy. Dick felt like lately all he did was fail in that regard.

Dick decided then and there that he had to do better. He had to be better. By any means necessary.

So tilting Damian’s face up and placing a sweet kiss to his forehead, Dick pushed any of his own lingering lightheadedness away to give Damian his best smile. “I know what we should do.”

-