Chapter Text
Dick and Bruce were partners. A duo. The dynamic duo-and duo meant two. Barbara was a close friend and ally, but she could never worm her way into their duo and turn it into a trio even if she tried. She had never made any effort to do such a thing, and Dick was glad for it.
Don't get him wrong, he welcomed any vigilante that entered Gotham City with open arms—quite literally; they had to run away if they wanted to avoid his hugs—but Dick wanted to be special. Before, Bruce had carried his day with clenched fists and stiff shoulders when he thought no one was looking, like he was carrying the weight of the world. Fueled by a relentless sense of duty place upon him by a merciless city, the man was left with little to hope for and too much to handle on his own. But beneath those icy blue eyes, Dick had caught glimpses of optimism and trust that Dick had known was there all along, because who would fight crime for a city that they thought was beyond saving?
The memory from years ago of Dick meticulously prying Bruce's clenched fist open and holding the large palm in his hand was still fresh in his mind. Dick remembered the way he puffed his chest and placed his hands on his hips, declaring, "I'm your partner now, so you better stop putting so much pressure on yourself before I tattletale on you and tell Alfred to ground you!"
Bruce had made a lot of progress since then. He worked with the GCPD more often, along with the Justice League and lesser known heroes. Dick liked to think he took part in this development, and even more so, he liked to think he earned his place as Batman's number one partner.
That's why he was less than pleased when Bruce walked through the manor's front door with a scruffy but well-built looking boy with hair as black as his and a backpack strapped to his shoulders.
"Uh," Dick said uneasily, turning away from the English homework that he had been hunched over. "Hi, B. Who's this?"
Bruce smiled at Dick and gestured towards the stranger. "Dick, this is Jason Todd. He's been living a bit of a . . . an unstable life, and I decided that he'd do well with us here in the manor."
A wave of concern had Dick forgetting how to blink. "Oh?"
"I know this is sudden, but trust me, bud. You two will get along in no time," Bruce assured. "Jason is around your age; fifteen-years-old. Cool, right?"
Hesitantly, Dick nodded. He was twelve, so they were only three years apart, but it seemed like a pretty big age gap to him.
Bruce gave him a look that meant he knew something was upsetting Dick. "I'm going to introduce Jason to Alfred and give him a tour of the manor, and when I'm done we'll catch up. Does that sound good?"
Dick nibbled on the inside of his lip, deciding to risk another glimpse at Jason before answering that question. To his displeasure, Jason, who had been previously examining the manor with concealed awe, was staring right back at him with those alluring blue-green eyes. They were multiple hues of green with a thick ring of dark blue, reminding Dick of the deep waters of the ocean. Maybe he was inspecting them too closely, because they then narrowed at him, spurring Dick to snap his gaze back to Bruce and squeak out a small, "Yeah!”
With that, Bruce and Jason headed down the hall, leaving Dick alone with just his boring English homework and his mind racing in circles. What if he . . . What if I . . . What if . . .
Dick had abandoned his homework and gone upstairs to his room in favor of playing games on his phone to avoid locking eyes with Jason again. He tensed when he heard the creak of his door, only to relax when it was Bruce who peeked his head into the room.
"Hi, Dick," Bruce greeted. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," Dick said, placing his phone down on his bed. He tried to sound as casual as possible. "I'm just chillin'."
Bruce smiled slightly, before transitioning to a gentle frown, his brows raised knowingly. He sat down on the foot of Dick's bed. "I'm sorry for not telling you about Jason sooner. You must have been surprised when you heard that he was going to be staying with us."
Dick shrugged. "I guess. How'd you even meet him?"
"Well," Bruce started, a bit sheepishly, "I was out as Batman when I caught him stealing the tires of the Batmobile."
"What?"
"I know. He has some guts for that. But he did it to make some quick money, and as I mentioned earlier today, he’s been living in unstable conditions. He's just a kid," Bruce said, his face tightening the way it usually did when he was sad. "There are places I could bring him to, but they wouldn't take care of him the way they should. They'd do more damage than good. I thought, if I took him in, maybe he'd turn away from the life of crime he had been living to survive. Maybe he could use that anger for something good."
A pang of realization struck Dick. "You told him about Batman? And Robin?" he exclaimed.
Bruce gave him a single, firm nod. Dick jumped off his bed and dug his fingers into his hair, pulling as he felt panic and fear envelop him. "But you barely know him! What if he snitches? What if he betrays us?" And what if he didn't? Where would that leave Dick? Would the dynamic duo finally be turned into the terrific trio?
More like the terrible trio! Dick thought.
Bruce stood up. "Dick, I wouldn't jeopardize our identities if I knew it wasn't safe. Jason isn't so bad. How about you talk to him yourself?"
Dick shook his head furiously.
"He's in his room, unpacking," Bruce added, reaching forward to remove Dick's hands out of his hair. He wordlessly pleaded to Dick with his eyes, asking him to just give it a try.
"Fine," Dick sighed. Who was he to resist such a look? "Which room?"
"Third guest room to the left," Bruce said. "Thanks, Dick."
The boy grumbled in reply before walking out of his room and making his way through the manor until he stood in front of a door. A line of light shone from under the crack, and Dick's hand lingered in the air as he readied himself to knock on the door.
The door knob twisted before Dick got the chance to do so. Jason opened the door, just enough to see his face.
"What do you want?" He asked in a bored manner, leaning against the door frame.
"So," Dick said, getting right to the chase, "you know about me and Bruce."
Now that got the teenager's attention. He straightened up and quirked a brow. "Yeah, I do. What about it?"
"I dunno. Just wanna hear your thoughts on it, I guess."
"My thoughts, huh?" Jason said, crossing his arms. "You wanna know my thoughts? Well, fine. My thoughts are lucky me; Batman catches me stealing his stuff, and instead of throwing me in juvie, he offers me a place to stay and chance to jump off of buildings with a grappling hook."
"Does that mean Bruce wants you to . . . be a vigilante? To work with him?" Dick questioned, feeling an uncomfortable weight settling onto his chest.
"I guess so. We spoke about it, but I don't know the details. He knows I have skill, so I guess he wants me to use it to help him. He said he'll teach me a couple of things." The corner of his lips twitched upwards. "I'm just interested in being able to punch people without getting in trouble with the police, to be honest."
Dick was taken aback. "What? Look, that's not being a hero is about."
"Okay, and?"
"And it's something you need to take seriously if you wanna be one!" Dick shouted. "It's not a joke. It's not just for the thrill and kicks. And it's not for everyone."
Jason swung his door all the way open and took a step forward passed the threshold, full of aggressive intent. Dick planted his feet to the ground. He couldn't be so easily intimidated, no matter how much Jason hovered over Dick due to their height difference. He was used to this.
Sure, he had to tilt his head back to look at most villains instead of facing them head-on like Batman and Superman could, and maybe everyone around him seemed older and tougher and cooler, and it made him feel small, but Dick had survived this long fighting in the treacherous streets of Gotham at night, and he wasn't going let some random teenager insult what it meant to do that, especially if he was wanted to do it with Batman.
"What are you tryna say, huh? Tryna give me a hint?" Jason spat, his voice lowering dangerously. "Well, no need. It was as clear as day since the moment I walked through doors that you didn't want me here. And guess what: too bad. You're stuck with me." Jason's piercing glare gained a taunting smirk. "The Wayne guy? Oh man, he loves me. I bet by the end of the week he'll forget all about you and—“
"Shut up!" Dick yelled. "That's not true! Just shut up and go back to wherever the heck you came from!"
Jason flinched at that, and Dick immediately regretted letting those words leave his mouth. The teenager swallowed thickly, at a loss for words.
"I—“ Dick tried to say something, but Jason abruptly cut him off.
"I knew a rich, spoiled brat like you wouldn't understand, but you know what? I'm not gonna hide my past, because that's been my reality for all my life and your opinion means nothing. Bruce didn't wanna embarrass me—him saying that I've lived an 'unstable life.' It isn't exactly a lie, but it doesn't do the ugliness of my life justice. Nah, I was born and raised in Crime Alley. Dead parents. No home. Thief and liar."
The air was snatched from Dick's lungs.
"Yep, I'm the perfect archetype of a filthy street rat," Jason spat, his brows forming deep wrinkles on his forehead and his eyes looking more glossy than it had been a moment ago. "This place is a freaking castle to me, you know, and you have it all to yourself. Just you, Bruce, and Alfred. Must be nice. Must be real nice." Jason's voice was laced with bitterness and pain. "If you want to throw me back into those streets again, then go ahead and try, but just know I won't go down without a fight."
And with that, he slammed the door on Dick's face, leaving the child staring forward with wide eyes that quickly began to fill with tears. Dick's lips quivered, and without thinking, as if on autopilot, he stumbled to his room, which Bruce was thankfully no longer in. The moment he closed the door, he slapped a hand over his mouth and bent forward, trying to muffle the sobs of shame that took hold of him.
What had he been thinking? He'd been so concerned about himself that he failed to take a second to even question what Jason might be going through, or to consider how Jason might have been feeling in a new environment with new people—with Dick, who hadn't made any effort whatsoever to make Jason feel welcomed. Heck, he hadn't even said a word to Jason until Bruce had requested Dick to talk to him.
Born and raised in Crime Alley? Dick pressed his palms against his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew of what occurred in that area of Gotham well. The injuries he had received when fighting crooks in that place still ached, and the too dark shadows of the worn down streets still haunted him whenever he passed by. That was where Bruce's parents had been brutally shot down for Pete's sake. Dick's experiences at Crime Alley had been rough since he'd always been there as Robin, but he had only been there for a couple of hours on patrol, and he had always been with Batman. Batman protected him, but who protected Jason?
Jason deserved to be here just as much as Dick did. He deserved Bruce's love as much as he did. If Bruce knew how he had treated Jason, he'd be disappointed. Dick was disappointed in himself—surprised even, at his own selfishness.
Dick trudged to the desk in his room and sat down on the chair in front of it. Still sniffling, he pulled out some paper and grabbed a pencil. He needed to apologize immediately, but Jason would probably still be angry, and Dick couldn't form his words properly right now, so maybe he could write a letter. The boy stared at the blank lines.
What would he say? Sorry I was a jerk to you. I was just jealous. At least I'm writing this letter, though, so we're good, right?
Dick heavily sighed and shook his head, deciding against this. He felt like a coward, writing a letter instead of talking to Jason face to face. He wanted to apologize verbally, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet.
Dick doodled on the paper absentmindedly as he let himself think about what had just happened between him and Jason. It had gone south so fast. The more he thought about it, the more he felt he wasn't completely in the wrong. Yes, he had been insensitive towards Jason, but Jason had purposely provoked Dick, too.
Then again, Dick had kind of started it. Right?
He groaned and further hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling whatever came to mind. Circles, stars, bats, and birds. Dick just wanted to get rid of the guilt pent up in him. He remembered how scared and alone he had felt after his parents died. If Jason was feeling even a sliver of that pain, he wanted to help, not make it worse.
Dick observed his drawing until he registered what he had drawn. It was a Robin. Dick always felt comfort seeing a robin. Not only did it remind him of his mother, but it reminded him of his duty as a hero.
Plus, they were cute. Who didn't like Robins?
Dick smiled softly before scrambling to get some printer paper.
"What do you want?" Jason growled from his room, not even bothering to check who had knocked on the door.
Dick took in a deep breath and looked down at the paper in his hands. "Um, well, it's me. Dick."
"Oh, really? I thought it was Bruce," Jason said sarcastically. "I was wondering why he sounded like he had just started going through puberty."
Dick bit the inside of his cheek. He's just trying to rile you, he reminded himself. To see if you really are sorry. "Jason, I owe you an apology."
He paused to see what quick-witted response Jason had next, but there was none. He continued. "I didn't know know about your past. I wouldn't have told you to leave if I had known, but still. I shouldn't have treated you that way regardless. I was pretty rude. I should have welcomed you instead of pushed you away. To be honest, I was jealous. I'm not used to having any other kids at the manor."
There was silence.
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," Dick said. He crouched down and slid his paper through the crack of Jason's door. "But, um. I made this for you. It's a robin, 'cause, y'know. I'm Robin."
There was still no response—until Jason snorted, and Dick rubbed the back of his neck, questioning if this was stupid. Maybe he was just embarrassing himself.
But then there was a click, followed by the opening of a door. Jason stood at the threshold, solemnly studying Dick's face before allowing himself a small, cocky smile. "Nice drawing. For a what? Ten-year-old?"
"Twelve," Dick muttered.
"Right," Jason said. He lowered his gaze onto the drawing.
"Jason?" Dick asked.
"Do I forgive you?" Jason said, meeting Dick's eyes with raised brows, already knowing what the boy was going to ask. "Yeah, why not. I can't walk around having beef with a twelve-year-old anyway."
Dick exhaled, relieved that he was forgiven, and smiled. It was time to pop the question. He felt nervous to possibly share this intimate part of his life, but he knew it was the right thing to do. So with his eyes locked on Jason's and his head tilted slightly, he asked, "Do you wanna hear the story of how I met Bruce and became Robin?"
Jason immediately sobered. His smirk melted and left him staring with parted lips and eyes that flickered across Dick's face, dissecting him to see if he was serious. When he concluded that it was a genuine question, he gave him a firm nod.
There was an unspoken understanding between to the of them. Jason had been vulnerable with Dick, so Dick wanted to be same with him.
"Hey, B," Dick muttered, inviting himself into Bruce's office where the man had just gotten off the phone.
Bruce's attention darted onto him. Curiously, he said, "Oh, hey. How did it go? You were gone for a while."
Dick pursed his lips. "To he honest, it didn't go well at first. But . . . I think we're good for now."
Speculation swam in those pale blue eyes, but Bruce spared Dick for now by holding back on the questions and opting for a content nod. For some reason, the action squeezed Dick's heart painfully—so much so that he knew the only way to sate the feeling. He walked up to Bruce, and because the man was currently sitting, it was easy to slowly wrap his arms around his shoulders.
“Bruce, you're really nice, you know that?" Dick asked.
Bruce placed a hand on Dick's arm and craned his head to look at his son. "What is this about?"
"Nothing," Dick said. The look on Bruce's face screamed unconvinced. "Fine, not nothing. It's just . . . I didn't realize it at first, but you gave Jason a chance to have a better life. Just like you did with me. And . . . I don't know." His grip tightened. "I love you, B."
Bruce broke the hug to stand up and give Dick a better one. One where Dick could be enveloped by his warmth and feel like he was nine again. Dick's favorite type of hug, and Bruce knew it.
"I love you too, kiddo," Bruce murmured. "Do you want to fill me in on anything I should know about?"
"Later," Dick said. Right now, he wanted to enjoy this moment while Bruce still considered him special, because with Jason around, he knew it wouldn't last.
Dinner was strange. There was more conversation than usual with Alfred and Bruce pestering Jason with questions and small talk while Dick poked at his asparagus with his fork, waiting for someone to ask him how school had been. The topic never came up, though, so Dick didn't bother asking for help on the English homework that he had been struggling with earlier.
Dick didn't say much the entire time, but at least he ate his vegetables.
The next day, Dick thought about Jason throughout the entire school day. He wondered what the teenager was doing while he had to listen to his teacher ramble. It was only natural that the first thing Dick did when he came back home from school was bolt up the stairs and check up on Jason.
"Hey, Jason," Dick croaked to the closed door, trying to sound as if he wasn't panting from running to Jason's room like a crazy person.
Jason opened the door, and with a tinge of surprise in his voice, he said, "Oh, hey." He looked Dick up and down, probably observing the school uniform he hadn't bothered to change out of yet. "What's up?"
Dick cleared his throat and shrugged offhandedly. "Just came from school. Just did the usual, you know. Tests, lectures, projects. Tough stuff."
Jason smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh, totally. I'm sure you had a very rigorous day of sixth grade."
Dick nodded—until the sarcasm in Jason's words settled in. "Hey!"
"Just saying."
"Well, fine," Dick said, now feeling grumpy. "Tell me what you did today."
Something lit up in Jason's eyes. "Oh! Here, come in."
Dick's pretense of indifference melted away as he gladly entered Jason's room and was met with the blaring screen of the TV and the sound of upbeat music.
"Bruce got me this video game console and I've been hooked onto it all day," Jason said with a smile. The type of smile Dick always got when Bruce did something nice for him, too. "I should probably stop before he finds out I've been using it all day."
Dick couldn't help but stare at Jason. He looked happy—happier than yesterday. It made Dick happy. Before Jason could give Dick a weird look for the prolonged eye contact, the twelve-year-old gestured to the TV and remarked, "Oh, man, I play this game all the time! We should totally play together. If . . . Only if you want to, of course."
"Okay," Jason said, almost tentatively. He smiled. "Yeah, sure. Let's do it."
As he reached for the game's controllers, Dick apologetically stopped him. "I can't play right now, though. I wish I could. I have to study for a test I have tomorrow." He sighed. "I should probably get to it now before I end up procrastinating."
Jason frowned. "What subject is the test on?"
"English," Dick answered. "The test is on this book we're reading in class and the questions for it are super confusing."
Jason scoffed. "It can't be that hard. I mean, you just read the book and answer the questions. You have everything you need to find the answers."
"I wish it were that easy. My teacher overthinks everythinggg!" Dick groaned at the ceiling. "Like, there's this one part in the book where the main character wears a blue dress, and my teacher asked me what it symbolizes, so I said it symbolizes her wanting to dress nicely or be feminine. Nope! My teacher said it actually symbolizes her being sad. Like, what?"
"Well, duh," Jason said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Blue symbolizes sadness."
"It's just a dress!" Dick cried.
Jason chuckled, shaking his head and looking at Dick with crinkled eyes while Dick crossed his arms. He wasn't mad at Jason; just annoyed at his English teacher's nit-picky way of reading books. Truthfully, though, he wasn't actually upset. How could he be after making Jason laugh?
"Alright, let me get a look at this book you're talking about, then," Jason insisted.
Dick faltered, going slightly wide-eyed. "Oh, no, you don't have to—“
"Hey, I'll be enrolled into Gotham Academy soon, so I might as well get some practice, right?"
Dick hadn't know that. But he was glad for Jason. Gotham Academy was a great school, and Dick didn't know what kind of prior education Jason had received, but now he could get the best.
"That's true," Dick replied. "But I'll only let you help me if I can play with you afterwards."
Jason grinned. "Deal."
Dick didn't usually need help on his homework, but when he did he went to Bruce. Alfred was available most of the time, but Dick liked to use homework as an excuse to spend more time with Bruce, even if it was a bit boring.
The reality was, Bruce worked a lot, whether it be as the CEO of WayneEnterprises or as Batman. When Dick had become Robin, he was thrilled that he was one of the very few people involved in Bruce's secret and was happy to be able to do good for Gotham and spend some time with the man instead of lying around the manor alone with Alfred. But even then, it wasn't enough. Dick wanted to be a major part of Bruce's life, not just Batman's, so he resorted to using homework to temporarily achieve it.
But here was Jason, explaining the logic behind the questions for his homework, and doing it well. Better than Bruce would have. And Dick was actually enjoying it.
"You're really smart, Jason," Dick remarked as he placed his completed work into a folder. "I understand way better now, and I think I'm ready for the test." He gave Jason an earnest look. "Thanks."
"It's nothing," Jason dismissed, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly.
"No, seriously," Dick said. "You should take advanced English classes when you go to school. You'd do great."
Now that coaxed a smile out of the teenager. "Maybe. . . But, hey, I guess I owe you now or whatever," he said, feigning reluctance as he rolled his eyes playfully.
"Oh, yeah!" Dick realized, remembering the "deal" they had made. He jumped out of his seat and waved a hand enthusiastically that gestured for Jason to follow him. "C'mon, then!"
"Give me a second, would ya?" Jason said. He tried to finish cleaning up the living room table that they had used as their work space, but Dick grabbed his hand and pulled him away. "We can clean up later," Dick assured. "But if we wanna play, then we need to do it before Alfred finishes making dinner." He tugged Jason's arm, wanting to hurry him up the stairs, and Jason let him.
After another long school day, Dick was restless to see Jason again, but instead of just curiosity, he felt excitement. He hoped that they could play more video games together; yesterday had been so fun.
Alfred had to pause when he was in the middle of unlocking the manor's front door to ask Dick if he had eaten something overly sugary at lunch. Dick said no, and Alfred, although skeptical, let him inside, only to be left with a gust of wind as the boy sprinted away.
"Knock knock," Dick chirped at Jason's door. Jason opened the door, and Dick grinned upon seeing him. "I'm telling a knock knock joke. Play along. Knock knock!"
"Whose there?" Jason said in a bored manner, but amusement glinted in his eyes.
"Woo."
"Woo who?"
Dick laughed. "Someone's excited to see me!"
A puff of amusement left Jason's nose. "And someone is very energetic. You act that way at school?"
"Pfft," Dick dismissed easily. "As if. Half of the time I try not to die of boredom. The only fun thing about school is hanging out with my friends."
Jason hummed before walking into his room, allowing Dick to follow, and sitting heavily on his bed.
"So," Dick said, "wanna play games?"
Jason seemed to contemplate it before shaking his head no. "Nah. Sorry, Dick, but I'm beat. Bruce gave me a tour of the Batcave and already began my training. It was really cool, but sheesh. It drained me."
Dick blinked. His energy was immediately diminished and, instead, he caught himself wrestling with a feeling he didn't like. "Oh. Oh, that's great. Bruce is here?"
"No, he went out to do something. Probably another meeting for work."
Of course. Bruce would've picked up Dick from school if he had had a day off, but that meant Bruce took time out of his schedule to spend be with Jason.
Good for Jason, Dick thought, suppressing the urge to be jealous and trying to be happy for Jason instead.
"The training will only get harder, you know," Dick warned. "But you'll survive. I did, after all."
Jason sighed and lied down. Dick let him rest.
Dick was about to head to bed when Bruce came home, but that didn't stop him from gleefully accepting Bruce's offer to go on patrol with him.
"People always say I'm full of energy, but you're the one who works, like, all day and night," Robin said as he and Batman admired the city lights from the top of a tall building. It was silent and peaceful up here, the breeze tickling their faces and fluttering their capes. It was just the two of them. It was perfect.
"When you have a great sense of duty," Batman said, "you find that energy comes naturally. Besides”—he looked down at Robin, and Robin looked up at him with a phantom fist around his heart—"It helps to have an amazing partner."
Robin broke into a grin, looked back at the city, and knew he was where he was meant to be.
The next day, Jason was passed out on his bed.
The day after that was a Friday, so Dick had hoped that Jason would be in the mood to hang out a bit, but he was still worn out and only wanted to start designing his own hero suit.
Dick slept in on Saturday. When he woke up, he wanted to greet Jason good morning, but when he got there, the teenager wasn't in his room. Dick went downstairs and looked around until he found Alfred enjoying a hot cup of tea on the living room sofa.
"Good morning, Alfred," Dick said. "Do you know—“
"—Where Master Jason is, I presume?" Alfred said cleverly.
Dick rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile and nodded.
"He is in the cave with Master Bruce. And before you join them, I suggest you eat your breakfast first."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Dick said, already following the waft of fresh pancakes in the air. "Thanks, Alf!"
Jason was incredible, to say the least.
Dick walked in on Bruce and Jason sparring at the cave and found himself immediately captivated by the way they fought. He hid in a corner to watch them secretly.
Jason was fast and fierce. Beneath the hoodies and t-shirts he liked to wear, he had been hiding muscle that was now glistening in sweat under his white tank top. His form was like that of someone who had already been fighting for years as he ducked and blocked. His brute force clashed with Bruce's, but like Dick, Jason was smaller and quicker, and it gave him an advantage. Jason was grinning like a shark, full of teeth and passion, and Bruce looked at him like he was something special.
How long had they been training together? Three days at most? They already clicked so well.
By the time the session was over, Bruce and Jason were panting and soaking the ground with droplets of sweat. Bruce put a hand on Jason's shoulder and patted him firmly. "I haven't have a spar that invigorating in a while," he praised.
It felt like a slap in the face. Was there something wrong with the way Dick sparred? Was he getting bored of Dick?
Jason chuckled softly, looking flustered from both adrenaline and the compliment. "Uh, thanks, I guess?"
Dick wildly shook his head. He needed to get a grip. Bruce could have just said that to be nice, and even if he had meant it, Dick couldn't blame him, because Jason had been amazing and deserved praise for it.
While they drank water and cooled down, Dick crawled towards the entrance of the Batcave and walked back like he had just gotten there.
"Good morning, Dick," Bruce said as soon as he saw Dick.
Dick waved at him, then Jason. "Hey, B. Hiya, Jason."
"'Sup," Jason said.
"You guys look super sweaty," Dick noted.
"Jason and I just finished sparring," Bruce informed after taking a sip of his water bottle. "Jason here is pretty good for a newbie."
"I'm not a newbie," Jason retorted, giving Bruce an annoyed face.
"Uh, okay. So, anyway, how's your suit design turning out?" Dick asked.
Jason ran a hand through his damp hair. "I'm still working on it."
"Dick, since you're here, maybe you could give him some pointers," Bruce suggested. "How about when he's finished catching his breath, you two have a round at each other? Just some hand-to-hand combat."
Dick's interest was piqued. "Sounds good to me," he said eagerly, watching Jason for his response.
Jason assessed Dick, looking hesitant. At first, Dick thought it was apprehension, which would be understandable; it wasn't everyday you could go toe-to-toe with Robin, the Boy Wonder. But then Dick looked closer and saw the subtle glance he shot Bruce, the quiver of the lips holding back a smile, the way he looked Dick up and down.
Ah. He was underestimating him.
"Someone's cocky," Dick commented, crossing his arms. That's alright. Dick would make sure to he humbled the teenager.
Jason put his arms up in defense. "Look, don't take it the wrong way. It's just . . . You're kind of . . ."
Short. Skinny. Young. Dick had heard it all before.
"Don't forget that I'm Robin," Dick said, undeterred by Jason's condescending behavior. "Are you up for a spar or not? I mean, if you're scared, just say so."
Jason scoffed. "Yeah, right. Of course I'm up for it."
Jason collected himself while Dick stretched a bit. When they were ready, Bruce left the sparring mat to watch from the sidelines, but not before saying, "Don't go too rough on him."
"I won't," said Dick and Jason at the same time. The shared a sour look at that.
Bruce chuckled, meeting Jason's eyes and cocking his head towards the acrobat. "I was talking to Dick."
Pride and gratitude blossomed in Dick's chest. It took way too much willpower to suppress the toothy grin that threatened to spread through his entire face, especially after seeing the look of shock on Jason's face.
"Let's begin this already," Jason said, not looking so smug anymore, but still brimming with confidence and determination that Dick couldn't help but admire.
Dick got into position and gave a sharp nod.
Without any sign or warning, Jason threw the first punch. His fist hurled through the air like a rocket that Dick narrowly avoided. The next one came just as fast, and then the other, and the other. When Jason lunged forward to send his next attack, Dick dropped to the ground and rolled underneath to pass him. Now behind Jason, Dick swung his leg across the floor, swiping Jason off his feet. The teenager fell on his back, but not before reaching for Dick's arm and dragging him down to the ground with him. They wrestled for dominance, but Jason was bigger and stronger and managed to overpower Dick by pinning him to floor, pulling his arms backwards at a angle that forced Dick to hiss in pain.
"Jason, easy now," Bruce warned from where he was watching to the two boys fight.
"Tap out," Jason ordered. Dick refused, opting to squirm some more despite the pain that flared at his shoulders. He could hear Jason heavily sigh behind him. "C'mon, you just aren't as strong as you thought you were. It's fine. Just quit and I'll stop."
Anger raged through his veins as if a dam had broken in him. Dick let out an enraged shout as he head-butted the back of his head against Jason's forehead.
Jason yelped and removed his hands off Dick in favor of instinctively placing them on his forehead. "What the heck, man?"
But Dick wasn't done. He tackled the teenager before he could recover from the blow and put him in a headlock in record time. Jason writhed against Dick's hold on him, but at least he had enough sense to determine that it was futile.
"Fine. Fine," Jason said, full of frustration, finally pounding his hand against the mat below them.
Dick released him and got up to his feet while Jason shifted to a sitting position and reached up to his neck, gently rubbing the sore area with his fingers. Noticing, Dick sassily remarked, "What was that you were saying about me not being strong?"
Jason cast him a uneasy look. A real one this time.
Hah! That showed him!
Dick played it cool—at least, as best as he could. He feigned a yawn and put a hand on his hip. "You did pretty good for the most part, I guess. You'll probably improve a lot if you learn more moves besides punches and learn to have a little patience."
"Patience?" Jason asked, his face scrunched in confusion.
"Well, yeah," Dick said. "You kind of just went crazy, attacking right away instead of determining my fighting style and speed. That way you could fight in a way that would target my weak points." He put a finger up to his chin. "Well, I guess that's a little too advanced for now. But you'll get the hang of it eventually. That's what Bruce is for. He taught me almost everything I know."
"Almost everything?" Bruce questioned, soundlessly appearing from behind Dick. Jason flinched and Dick would have done so if he weren't already used to Bruce's jump-scares.
Dick smiled sheepishly. "You know that my mom and dad taught me most of my acrobatic tricks."
Bruce reciprocated his smile, soft and fond. "Just teasing." He glanced at Jason for a moment, and his smile flickered until it went out like a light as his attention shifted to the redness of Jason's forehead. "Dick, I told you to go easy on him. Are you okay, Jason?"
"I'm fine," Jason answered defensively, like the question itself was some sort of personal attack.
"Are you sure, buddy?" Bruce asked patiently, but before Jason could get in a response, the man shook his head. "No, c'mon. We need to make sure you don't have a concussion."
"Oh, please," Jason remarked. "You really think I could have a concussion from this? I'm perfectly fine, Bruce."
"You'd be surprised at how easily people can get concussed," Bruce stated. "It's not fun. Let's go grab a flashlight. There's one upstairs, and I can ask Alfred to double check for me while we're there.
Jason shrugged. "Okay . . . I still think you're being a bit overdramatic, though."
Bruce said something about Jason being his responsibility as they walked away, lost in conversation, leaving Dick standing in the Batcave, fiddling with his fingers and alone with nothing but his thoughts and the Bat-themed technology surrounding him.