#by the time jason gets taken in alfreds hair line had receded

[enby-mori]

I think dick should be the only one of the kids to NOT be surprised by a younger alfred.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Dad...I’m Bilingual

Read here on AO3!

Summary: 

Dick hums—a quiet, sleepy sound. He’s drifting, but only slightly. The painkillers are doing their job. “It’s dumb,” he says. “I can beat up bad guys an’ stop an apocalypse, but I can’t even tell my own dad I’m bilingual.”

Bruce just stares at him. Realization kicks in a moment later. “Do you mean bisexual?”

“Yeah, bionical.” He said that, didn’t he? Bruce must be getting slow in his old age.

When he wakes up, the first thing that Dick’s sluggish mind can latch onto is how tingly his tongue feels. His taste buds buzz like someone poured a can of Pepsi into his mouth while he was sleeping, bubbles tickling the path down. Or maybe pop rocks. Or tiny little bumblebees, their legs scritching and scratching the surface they tread. The tingling spreads outward, Dick notices as he careens toward the wakeful part of wakefulness. Mouth to neck to torso to fingers to the cement block that he is pretty sure used to be his right leg. Soda and pop rocks and bees, the whole way. A quiet, questioning groan slips through Dick’s heavy lips. He cracks his eyes open and squints, blinking against the unforgiving brightness of the room he’s in. “Mm. Bruce?” A nearby chair squeaks. “Dick? Are you awake?” Bruce’s voice is uncomfortably close, booming in the short space between them. Dick grimaces. “C’n you...back up? Your breath smells like meatloaf.” He opens his eyes fully and is greeted by Bruce’s lined face, bags sagging under his eyes. They’re in a hospital room, white walls and white sheets.

Bruce’s meatloaf breath huffs once in amusement, then retreats. “I’ll take that to mean you’re back up, then.” In his lap is a magazine laid open to a page that’s all squiggles and bumbled lines. It matches the rest of the room. Dick’s head swims.

The numbness has receded mostly now that Dick is back online, but his stubborn cement leg takes longer to reboot. “Feels like I died. Then came back to life. Then died again.” His mind churns slush and soup. “You did just get out of surgery,” Bruce tells him. “Leslie said you’ll be woozy for a few hours.” Dick frowns. “I can’t feel my leg.” He has to parse his words carefully, his mouth working slowly like his muscles have melted into molasses. “I should hope not. You just had your knee put back together.” That part sounds...somewhat familiar? Dick has mismatched memories of surfing a stop sign across Clayface’s back, then sirens so loud and so close they split his head in half. He remembers Leslie yelling into one ear while the other listened to Bruce and Steph arguing about a video she uploaded to the Batman Incorporated Twitter account. That was completely irresponsible, Bruce said, out of his Batman suit and in one of the backup outfits he has stored in Leslie’s office for nights like that one. You’re lucky he only broke his knee. That stunt earned the Bat brand fifty Twitter followers, Steph snarked back. I need a goddamn vacation, Leslie said. “Tim left to crash a jet ski in the harbor,” Bruce continues, though Dick doesn’t remember asking, “so your alibi is taken care of. Jason and Cass went to track down the pudding cart, and Alfred took Damian home to sleep.” The half-drawn curtains make it hard to decide if that’s a sunrise or a sunset he’s seeing. Either way, it speaks to long hours of sitting and waiting and hoping. “I think…” Dick licks his dry lips. “I think they cut my leg off?” It feels like it. Did Leslie take his leg away as punishment for being dumb? Is the hospital hiding it from him? Bruce snorts. “Then what is that?” He gestures to Dick’s leg, the entire thing encased in weighty layers of gauze and plaster. “An imposter,” Dick says. Duh. “They gave me fake metal parts like Vic.” Dick slumps against the pitifully flat pillow behind his head. “My brain feels fuzzy. Did they take stuff out of my head?” That would explain the foggy memories and the way all of his words swim away from him like he’s been plunged underwater. Underwater hospital. Now there’s an idea. “You’re on painkillers,” Bruce says plainly, licking his thumb and turning the page of his magazine. “Heavy ones, it looks like.” Dick can’t remember if painkillers are supposed to feel like bumblebees buzzing around inside his thoughts. Maybe they’re made of honey. “Y’know, last time I woke up all confused in a hospital room, a bullet stole secrets from my head.” Bruce looks pained. “I assure you that all of your secrets are intact this time around.” Dick hums. “You should...take the painkillers out.” “Why is that?” “‘Cause I don’t wanna spill stuff.” Bruce frowns. He doesn’t say anything for so long that Dick wonders if he spoke in Portuguese by mistake. Bruce places his magazine on the plastic chair beside him. “Well, I can’t take out the IV because you’ll be in pain, but I promise you that the room is safe. Tim checked for bugs.” Why a bug would be in the human hospital, Dick doesn’t know. He shakes his head. The front pieces of his hair fall into his eyes, but his arms are too tired to fix it. “That doesn’t work, ‘cause then...then you’ll know. And that’s bad.” “This isn’t about your secret identity, is it?” Another head shake. “I might acci-mentally tell you ‘bout how I spilled tapioca on the Batmobile’s seats.” Bruce’s eyes widen. “That was you?” “Yeah, but don’t tell Bruce, ‘kay? You gotta promise.” Bruce rubs his temples like he’s sleepy. “I spent ten minutes yelling at Jason for that. I made him clean the seats.” “Yeah, ‘cause you’re an asshole.” Dick huffs, blowing at his pesky bangs until Bruce rolls his eyes and pushes them back for him. “Thank you.” “I appreciate you telling me about the tapioca. We’ll talk more about that when you’re sober.” Dick makes a face. “The whole point’s that I can’t tell you about the tapioca. It’s a secret. I’ve got too many of those—a whole big fuckin’ army of secrets. And it’s too many. No fun when you can’t share ‘em.” “What about Nightwing?” Bruce asks. “‘S different. You already know that one. I can share it.” “But you can’t share the other ones,” Bruce finishes. Dick snaps his fingers. “Zactly.” Bruce studies Dick—his bundled-up leg and the clear bag hanging on the hook beside his bed, pumping drugs into his bloodstream. “I should let you rest.” He starts to get up, the action somehow guilty despite there being no inherent guilt in vacating a chair. Bruce can pour guilt into anything if he tries hard enough. “You wanna know the worst part?” Dick continues on like Bruce hadn’t spoken, words spilling freely over compromised lips. “I could tell you. I could. But I’m a scaredy cat, so I can’t.” Reluctantly, Bruce sits back down. “I don’t know about that. I think you’re very brave.” “I’m not. If I was, I’d be able to tell you, because I know you’ll still love me no matter what I am, and I’m still scared. And that’s what scaredy cats do. They run away.” When Bruce’s face wears that expression, that gentle turn of his mouth and that pang in his eyes, Dick is stricken by memories of being nine years old. He’d go out every night in the Robin suit, wearing it like a suit of armor and trusting that nothing could hurt him. Bruce would be there by his side, protecting his Robin from harm at all costs. His soul wrapped around Dick’s like a second layer of armor, and it was then that Dick started to wonder if it was possible to have two fathers. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared sometimes,” Bruce tells him now. “There is if you’re a superhero.” “Even then. Sharing a secret can be a scary thing, even when you know it’s safe. That’s why they stay secret for so long.” If Dick didn’t know any better, he’d think that Bruce already knew what Dick desperately wanted and didn’t want to say. But not even Batman can read minds. Dick hums—a quiet, sleepy sound. He’s drifting, but only slightly. The painkillers are doing their job. “It’s dumb,” he says. “I can beat up bad guys an’ stop an apocalypse, but I can’t even tell my own dad I’m bilingual.” Bruce just stares at him. Realization kicks in a moment later. “Do you mean bisexual?” “Yeah, bionical.” He said that, didn’t he? Bruce must be getting slow in his old age. Bruce leans back in his chair with an odd, bemused expression. It’s not an angry one—more like when he’s cracked a case and lets the truth soak in. What case he’s cracked, Dick doesn’t know. Puzzlement morphs into something soft. “Okay. You’re bisexual. That’s not so bad.” “Yeah. But it would change stuff if you knew.” “Not exactly,” Bruce says. “You’re still you, Dick. Nothing’s changed—not really.” “Mm.” Dick’s chest warms. That must be a delayed effect of the painkillers, surely. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime, then. Later,” he amends. “When my head’s not full of mothballs.” “Sure, son.” Bruce reaches out to ruffle Dick’s hair. “Whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen.”

[goldandbluesmiles]

Heading Towards Something Good

Summary: Damian, Father, Family and Affection

Notes: Based on this prompt by @just-an-aussie-otaku Hope I did it justice.

Ao3

XXX

The relationship between Damian, his family, and affection was...unnamable at best.

The League had not been big on displays of affection, praise had been sparse and the only positive touch had been after a job well done. Jobs that had let Damian empty and hollowed out. His mother had tried, but in keeping the balance between keeping her father happy and keeping her son safe, his mother had let normal child-rearing slide.

It was probably why she had sent him to Gotham.

When he had first come to the manor, he had been distant from his family. Then his father had died and the emotions that he had tried to keep a lid on had exploded around him.

And there had been Grayson.

Grayson, who had sat up with him at night, even when he had acted terribly to the older man.

Grayson, who had given him hugs and ruffled his hair even when he had threatened to stab him.

Grayson, who had ostracized one of his brothers for him. Damian himself might not like Drake but he knew how much he meant to Grayson and how much it had hurt the man to drive him away to look after Damian.

Grayson had given him unconditional love even though Damian had made it extremely hard for him.

And now Grayson wasn't there anymore.

He wasn't gone per se. Bludhaven was only half an hour away after all, and Damian could not begrudge him his own life. Damian was also quite glad to get to know his father alone.

However, Grayson's absence was felt. Especially on nights when Damian felt like peeling his skin off.

Grayson had always had an infinity for knowing when Damian needed him. And while Father was there now, he had no such instinct. They simply did not know each other enough.

The only way for Damian to get anything out of him would be to ask.

And really, he'd rather just take comfort from the dark.

xxx

Damian might not have had much training as a Bat but he had more than enough as an Assassin. He thinks that maybe his family had forgotten that sometimes, especially during the time his father was lost in the time stream.

Damian had started to silently creep around the house at night and none of the present occupants of the house had ever caught him. It had allowed him to hear conversations and exchanges he wouldn't have usually been privy to.

One of the first ones he had heard had taken place three weeks after Father's disappearance.

"I don't know what to do Wally, it's just so hard. I don't know how Bruce used to do take care of little me- Yeah okay, I guess he wasn't grieving at the time but still-"

If Richard and Alfred ever figured out that he overheard their conversation they had never shown. Hearing them had given him a new perspective on the first Robin, it had allowed him to appreciate what the older man was doing for him and had brought them closer.

It was this closeness that had allowed him to learn more about the kind of man his father was. Richard had told him stories of how in the beginning he had practically forced tactile affection on the repressed man. By the time Jason had come along, Father had been so well conditioned by his eldest that he had reached out on his own. Both he and his young ward had been at an uneasy middle until Jason had finally succumbed to the comfort. Post-death Jason had a relationship that consisted of barbs and retorts underlined with the care that existed years ago. Drake had been different, he had had parents and Father had been grieving, but eventually, they had been headed to a sort to a resolution that had picked up now that Father was back. Cassandra and Father had their own language, consisting of silent looks and precise movements. Stephanie and Barbara were not his children but they both had history and respect with him.

Damian had no idea what he had with Father.

"He'll want something with you too," Richard had said a little while after the original Batman had shown back up.

Damian had not answered him but that statement was the reason that he found himself slinking down the hallway towards Father's room.

Tonight was not a good night. It was the kind of night that made him want to silently scream, made the glass shards inside of him scrape at his sides and made the insistent buzzing in his head loud enough to drown out his thoughts.

It was the kind of night that Richard would have held him to sleep.

But Richard was in Bludhaven. And Father was just in reach.

The door was open. A few more steps and Father would surely notice him.

For a second, just a second, Damian consider just turning back to his room and forcing himself to go to sleep. However, the idea of being alone in his room again made him want to be violently ill.

By God, Richard had spoiled him. He had never had this problem with the League.

Making up his mind, Damian went forward until he was standing on the doorway to Father's room. The man was sitting up in bed and seemed to be looking at some papers with WE logo on them. It took him almost a minute to look up from them but when he did, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Damian?" he asked

Feeling a bit panicked he blurted out the first that came to mind.

"Father, I need affection,"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Damian felt his whole body grow still and cold. This was not how he was supposed to say that! He looked pathetic! Father was going to think-

Except.

Except that Father merely raises his arm outwards, a clear invitation to sit with him. Refusing to overthink, Damian moved until he was in the circle of his father's arm. Once he was there, the older man bodily hauled him onto the bed. The reports were moved around until there was enough room for Damian to curl up in Father's lap, right against his chest.

"Oh, baby," said Father, once Damian was settled in his arms, "You only have to ask. I know I'm not good at noticing when you kids need something like this and I try to be better at it. But Damian if I don't notice, please ask if you need me,"

Damian nodded against the older man's chest and his father gently kissed his temple.

"Do you want me to turn off the light or is it okay for me to continue reading?"

"It's alright," murmured, already starting to get hazy. Father was warmer then Richard and while Richard's hugs had been tight and soothing, Father's was all-encompassing and safe.

Damian fell asleep as the glass inside carefully receded and his skin finally felt right again.

xxx

After that small incident, Damian became much more comfortable asking his Father for what he needed.

He even used the same line he did the first night. It never failed to make Father's lips twitch up in a smile.

Usually, they were alone when Damian asked. Just before school in the morning, the study or the lounge in the evenings, their rare lunches together, sometimes in the Batcave after patrol.

But they were always alone. Then came the day when Richard was over. School had been long and tedious. Homework had taken more energy than he had anticipated. All he wanted was to curl up with Father and just spend the evening in his company, however, it happened.

He first checked the study. Father was not there. The next place to look was in the lounge. Damian did find Father there, lying horizontally on the couch, book in his hand. However, he was not alone. Richard was there too, working on his laptop. He hadn't called Damian before coming over which meant the decision was last minute.

Damian contemplated just going to Richard and sitting with him the way they used to. However, his older brother looked busy and Damian was surprised to find that he wanted to sit with Father. Not just because he was the only option, but because it was honestly soothing.

Mind made up, Damian walked over to Father and stood by him with his arms crossed.

"Father, I need affection,"

In response, the older man raised his arm without taking his eyes off the book he was reading. Damian ducked under it and ended up laying on top of his father, head pillowed on his chest.

Damian knew Richard was watching them but with the way his muscles were uncoiling, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Dick, for his part, hid his shock pretty well. On the inside, he was squealing in delight but he kept his composure, occasionally sneaking glances at Bruce and Damian. Bruce kept reading his book and Damian seemed to be texting someone. After every few minutes, Bruce gently stroked a hand through Damian's hair and give his temple a kiss.

So Adorable.

Dick discreetly took a picture. Damian obviously didn't notice and if Bruce did, he didn't say anything.

The picture was later sent to everyone he knew.

And if Damian internally smiled at the copy he was shown by Selina...well no one needed to know.

xxx

Tim and Bruce were sitting in the cave working on their perspective reports when Damian walked to them. Tim side-eyes him, surprised to see the boy in his civilian clothing. Most of them tried to keep both lives separate and Damian especially never stayed in the cave in his civies.

He was even more surprised when Damian climbed into Bruce's lap. There were no words spoken, no indication. He just climbed up there and started reading the case file along with Bruce.

And Bruce. Just did nothing. He just let him sit there.

Had Tim missed something? When had these two gotten so comfortable? He'd seen the picture but this-? And since when did Bruce let people that close to him?

Tim himself was rarely on the receiving end of the closeness.

As soon as Tim had that thought, he regretted it. He knew from stories that Bruce had been a different man before Jason's death. His relationship with Cass was good. Tim had been unfortunate with his timing. At first, they were just professionally linked and by the time he had been adopted, they had had a habit neither one had taken the time to break.

Tim couldn't begrudge the man trying to have a better relationship with the child he never knew he had. He just wished watching it didn't make him feel a little hollow inside.

Still, as the even went on Tim couldn't help but feel a little happy about it too. He loved his family and both of them deserved this.

And anyway it wasn't as if his relationship with Bruce was lacking any love. He was especially reminded of this later on patrol when Batman bought Red Robin his favourite shake 'just because'

xxx

Jason was halfway out the door when he realized he didn't have his keys with him.

Damn it.

This is what happened when he came to the manor as Jason Todd and got comfortable. He started acting like a normal human being instead of the paranoid and cautious bat he was supposed to be.

It's good to keep them separate. You can be just Jason too, son.

And that was Bruce's voice in his head.

Jesus Christ. He really needed to get out of here and get drunk with Roy. Maybe Kori could be persuaded to come too.

He headed to the TV room and was treated to a lightly odd but admittedly adorable sight. Bruce was sitting on the couch with Damian in his lap, both of them fast asleep and snoring lightly with their mouths open. Cassandra was also there leaning into Bruce's side, looking sleepy but awake.

Jason let his lips twitch up at one side and grabbed a blanket from the armchair. He spread it over Bruce and his siblings. Bruce and Damian barely stirred but Cass smiled at him and mouthed 'Thank you'.

Jason gave her a salute, grabbed his keys from the table and headed out again, a little more bounce in his steps.

Later when Roy asked him why he was smiling like a moronic sap, he just grinned harder and pushed the other man to the ground.

It's what he deserved.

xxx

"Oh Hey, Bruce-"

Tim entered the living room and was greeted to the sight of Damian, once again, curled up in Bruce's lap. Stephanie was there too, sitting on a different couch and discreetly snapping pictures of the pair.

He had been hoping to get Bruce alone and while he wouldn't mind Stephanie, Damian still had some problem sharing his time with his dad.

"Tim did you need something?" asked Bruce

"Uh, well I was hoping to show you my report but we can do it later. I'll just-"

Before he could walk away, Bruce's voice stopped him.

"Why not now, Tim?"

He turned back to look at Bruce and saw that he was frowning in confusion. Tim didn't know how to tell him that his youngest was most likely to stab him at his intrusion. And the was Stephanie was stifling her laughter wasn't helping either.

Before he could come up with an excuse, however, Damian straightened up and jumped to his feet.

"Father is right, Drake," said Damian, "Putting off work is not a good look. You just reminded me I have a report on my own to finish,"

Tim raised his eyebrow at the boy. Even if Tim hadn't been trained by the Bat, he could have seen the lie from a mile away. Which meant-

He shared a disbelieving look with Stephanie. Had the Batbrat just read the room?

Wonders would never cease.

Tim sat down with Bruce and they carefully started to go over the reports from WE.

As he was sitting, Tim found himself leaning closer and closer to his dad. Finally, he just decided to take a leap of faith and put his head on Bruce's shoulder. Without any hesitation or lull in the conversation, the older man put his arm around Tim, pulling him close and giving his hair a kiss.

Huh. So it was that easy.

Stephanie raised her camera at them, looking at them in amusement.

Tim looked her dead in the eye and, very maturely, stuck his tongue out at her.

The deep sigh from Bruce did not deter either of them.

xxx

Bruce had noticed how comfortable his youngest had become around him and it never ceased to warm his heart.

They were at a gala, Him, Dick, Tim and Damian. It was late into the night but only halfway through the party and Bruce was chatting with a group of socialites. He was in the middle of pretending to find Mrs. Doser's vacation story interesting when he felt a tug at his side. He looked down to find his youngest standing by him and sleepily rubbing his eyes.

Damian didn't say anything but when he looked, Bruce read his face loud and clear even if that wasn't Damian's intention. Without any hesitation, he picked up the young boy and settled him against his shoulder. Damian squirmed a little but in the end, he relaxed under Bruce's gentle coaxing.

Damian was surprised at his Father's actions. At best he had hoped to have some of his Father's attention, at worst be berated or sent away. He had not expected this and could find no reason for it to be happening. But as the night went on and people merely cooed and awed at them, he figured this was just something people did with their children.

He got an image of his mother carrying him after a brutal training session but banished it from his mind. She had done her best and thinking about it wouldn't help.

During a separate incident, Batman was sitting in front of the Batcomputer having a meeting with the core members of the JL. He was in the middle of explaining the budget when Damian marched towards him wearing a mask and completely uncaring of the faces on the computer. As soon as he reached Bruce he jumped into his lap and closed his eyes. He must have been severely sleep-deprived because it only took his moments to fall asleep.

Bruce was torn. On one hand, his sweet, precious baby was sleeping in his lap. On the other hand, the founding members of the JL were still online and only Hal Jordan knew his identity.

In the end, the meeting continued with Batman glaring every time anyone tried to deviate from the subject.

If he smiled at the string of emojis and supportive texts Superman and Wonder Woman sent him on hs secure computer, it was his own secret.

xxx

Damian couldn't sleep and the most frustrating thing was that he couldn't pinpoint the reason. He hadn't gone on patrol and his day had been relatively uneventful.

He just couldn't find sleep.

Damian finally gave up and padded down to the den. He was surprised to find that Richard was there too.

"I guess we had the same idea, huh?" said Richard, sending him a soft smile

A closer look at the older man's face and Damian knew that Richard had a good reason to not be asleep. His eyes were puffy and face a little pale as if he had been crying.

"Couldn't sleep," mumbled Damian

"Same," said Richard waving his arm to invite him over.

Damian went over situated himself beside his older brother leaning slightly against his arm. They sat there in silence for a little while until Father came into the room.

He stopped in the doorway, almost as if he hadn't expected anyone to be down there.

"Boys," boys he murmured sounding tired but awake at the same time

"Hey B,"

"Father,"

"You know what we should do?" asked Father, taking in both their appearances.

Damian was confused by Richard seemed to perk up.

"Pillow fort!" he said

Father smiled, "Pillow fort,"

What followed was one of the most confusing half-an-hour of Damian's life. He hand never made a pillow fort before but he was good at taking directions and arranged blankets, pillows and support as required. When they were finished, they had quite a big tent with pillow walls, blanket roof, and cushions to keep them comfortable.

"Why is it so big?" he asked

As if on cue, Timothy, Stephanie and Cassandra stumbled into the room.

"See, I told you I heard voices," said Stephanie

"Yeah, yeah," said Timothy, "Are you guys making a fort?"

"Yup," said Dick, "Join us! The more the merrier,"

Damian expected himself to feel annoyance at being interrupted but found that he felt...content.

Now wasn't that a thought.

They had just started to arrange themselves when Jason walked in with Duke right behind him.

"Pillow forting without us," said Jason

"That's not a word," mumbled and Timothy, "And there's room,"

"What do you think, kid?" Jason asked Duke, "Should we grace them with our presence?"

Duke grinned, "I don't know about you but that looks comfy,"

"The Duke has spoken," Jason mock cried, "Make room brats,"

They moved around until Father in the middle. Dick and Tim on either side of him and Damian on his lap. Duke curled up across Tim and Father's legs while Jason took the spot opposite of him. Stephanie and Cassandra ended up curled together on the comfy couch behind Father.

"Good Night, everyone," said Father

There were a few mumbled answers as everyone started to nod off surrounded by the comfort of family.

Damian fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The relationship between Damian, his family, and affection was still unnamable. But he liked to think that it was heading toward something good.

[schweeeppess]

And the sun was shining again

A/N: Owwie character analysis of... no drum roll ‘cuz I’m not cool enough for one... Dickie Grayson! (not Ric, Ric is an abomination that i’m gonna pretend never happened)

Warnings: Ow. (I wrote this fic when I was, um. Not very happy to put it mildly? So. I projected a bit. ha. oops.)

Enjoy!

There wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for his family. Nothing.

Dick stared at himself in the mirror’s reflection; stared at his messy hair, which he could excuse as having just woken up from a nap (that he hadn’t taken); the bags under his eyes, which he could dismiss thanks to the tan coloring of his skin that hid the bruises rather well; the scar on his brow, that one there on his lip, the one on his jaw.

And he thought about it all.

He thought about Bruce. He thought about Alfred. He thought about Jason. He thought about Tim, Cass, Damian, and Duke. He thought about Amy, John, Mary, Raya, Raymond, Jimmy, and Haly. He thought about Catalina, Kori, Roy, Wally, Garth, Lilith, and Donna.

Then he stopped, pressed the domino to his face. He became Nightwing and put Dick Grayson away.

…he was tired.

Nightwing gritted his teeth as he held the metal beam up to give the civilians room to escape, the searing hot iron slowly burning through the padding of his gloves and shoulders.

“Go!” he shouted at the last kid left. The boy hesitated, brown eyes wide with fear. Dick softened and repeated himself in a gentler tone.

“Go, kid. Your mom’s waiting with Red Robin. So’s your dad. And your little sister, and your puppy, Brazer, and your baby brother.”

My family is waiting too.

The kid ducked out of the room in a quick rush and Dick let the beam fall off his shoulders, propelling himself out after the boy as the room collapsed.

When he made it out of the building he dropped to his knees, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and sucked in a lungful of clean air.

And he breathed, opening his eyes to watch the boy be reunited with his family; watched his own start making their way toward him, their voices laced with concern in his comm unit.

Dick smiled.

But he was still tried.

Same night, different place.

Dick was sitting on a bed in the med-bay, his palms wrapped up in bandages because of the burns, and gauze taped over the ones on his back, legs crossed under him.

Nightwing had to be strong for the weak. Dick Grayson had to be strong for his family to be weak. Otherwise they’d try to be too, and they’d break because of it. Dick did, after all, but he kept that to himself. He broke where nobody could witness it, when nobody would witness it.

He broke in places like this, at times like these.

It started as a single tear crawling down his cheek, dripping from his chin, and evolved into jerking shoulders coupled with sobs kept quiet and muffled in his wrapped hands.

Bruce was with Tim upstairs, Duke was with Damian—also upstairs, Cass was with Steph and Babs in the Clock Tower, and Jason was wrapping up his patrol (last Dick knew).

So he was free to break.

And roughly an hour later, after he’d cried his eyes dry, he was still tired.

If anything he was even more fatigued than he had been before crying.

Dick slid to his feet and shuffled up the stairs to the Manor, already preparing a smile to put on for his family; already straightening his posture and loosening his muscles in the usual costume he wore for them.

Maybe if someone looked to see it all, they’d see his exhaustion plain as day.

The last time he’d slept was two days ago, and Dick could feel the lassitude weighing him down like wet clothes.

But he ignored it. He was tired, but he couldn’t sleep. His brain felt untuned, but he couldn’t fix it. He felt like he was stuck, and he couldn’t free himself. This happened often. Dick would just wait it out, and ride the wave until it troughed and receded.

Nightwing leaned forward off the building he was standing on and fell, the wind rushing past him, closing his eyes.

He let himself fall for a few seconds, then opened his eyes and shot out a line.

Falling was peaceful until you hit the ground, and Dick had no plans on hitting the earth anytime soon.

Instead he flew, body lighter than it felt on the roof, but the weariness still weighed on his chest.

Dick ignored it and kept flying as best he could.

Inhale, take a step forward, exhale. Inhale, another step forward, exhale. Inhale, lift the head, exhale. Inhale, try to smile, exhale. Inhale, just keep living, exhale. Inhale, ignore the javelin, exhale. Inhale, cough a little blood, exhale.

Inhale, live, exhale. Take another step.

Inhale, trip, don’t cry, exhale. Lean into Bruce’s chest.

Inhale, close the eyes, exhale. Ignore the blood running from the wound.

Inhale, just a little longer, chum, hang in there, exhale. Ignore the pain.

Inhale, why the fuck is there a spear in his chest, he was surrounded by metas, open eyes, Jason, exhale. Try to smile again for the little brother.

Inhale, Grayson?, exhale. Try to squeeze the small hand in his.

Inhale, Jason’s right—what the hell is wrong with you superpowered aliens, Dick is human and you’re all basically invincible, look at Tim, exhale. Close the eyes again because it was getting too hard to keep them open.

Inhale, just a little longer, hum, exhale. The weight of fatigue was gone.

Inhale, just keep living, exhale.

Fly.

He was sitting, legs dangling, on a small bridge. The bandages around his torso itched a little around the edges, but that was fine.

Dick’s head was tilted back toward the sun, his eyes closed.

The exhaustion was gone. He felt warm.

And the sun was shining again.

Tags: @mizmahlia @boosyboo9206 @an-all-write-life @lovelywally-deactivated20181210 @avengerdragoness @crazyfreckledginger @red-balistic @solis200213 @emmadevr  @tomscaprisun @queen-fighter @jaybird-rednerd @shirokokuro @aaren-27 @osejn @v01d-ch1ld @angstytodd