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Dick Grayson’s phone was buzzing on his nightstand. He reached over blindly, throwing his very comfortable blanket off of him in the process. The screen lit up the dark room, burning Dick’s eyes.
His body froze.
Bruce
The name was staring back at Dick, and he felt sick.
Dick and Bruce hadn't really talked since he got back from Spyral. He had no desire to talk to the man who stripped him of everything. First, he had taken away Robin. It was Dick’s name! He remembered his mother smoothing back his hair as she looked down at him.
“My little Robin.”
Dick had been able to get over the betrayal. He was able to move forward and become Nightwing. Then Bruce had gone and fucked it all up again.
He gave Dick no choice. He had to go to Spyral, no questions asked.
Jason had punched him when he came back. (“I don't care what bats told you, you don't do that to your–you don't do that to another Robin!”) Dick remembers the feeling of Jason’s cold skin smashing into his jaw. The way metallic blood flooded his mouth, the way warm red ran from his nose. The worst part was…Jason’s words had hurt more than the punch ever could. From that point to now Jason still hadn't given up on his anger. He would sneer when he saw Dick, turning on his heel and striding out of the manor. He would constantly throw insults at Dick and call him a liar.
Tim was just cold. He had been with Jason when Dick came back from Spyral. Tim had stood there, arms crossed, and body held tense, as Jason punched Dick. Of course, Dick didn't blame him for not stepping in, he deserved their cold words and harsh actions. (“But you didn't die, did you? You just lied.”) Those words, just like Jason’s, went straight through his heart.
He had died…right?
Luthor had shoved that fucking pill down his throat. Dick could feel as the pill scraped against his throat, his eyes watering. He remembered his heart stuttering and then nothing. It was peaceful until adrenaline was shoved into his system bringing him back from the dead.
He had wanted to tell Tim the truth. All of them the wretched truth but nobody would listen.
Tim was different compared to Jason. He was cold and calculating. He would glare when Dick entered a room, his blue eyes burning straight through Dick. Then like a switch was flipped his face would smooth over to complete indifference and he would leave the room. Never once looking back.
Damian. His baby brother. His Robin. Dick felt although for the first time since Spyral his body was his own, warmth flooded him as Damian hugged him. Damian didn't hold any resentment; he was just happy Dick was alive. Damian was the only one in the family that he really kept in touch with the last few months.
The other person was Alfred. The old butler had hugged him when he had stepped into the manor. A gentle smile spread across Alfred's face as he checked Dick over and deemed him healthy.
Barbara wasn't talking to him at all. She had gone radio silent, other than the occasional check-in, which someone probably forced her to do. He missed her, but she didn't miss him. She had been like a rock in his life. His best friend. His girlfriend. His…Dick didn't even have words to describe her. They had fought multiple times throughout their life and every time they reconciled no matter what because they cared for each other.
But Barbara didn't care anymore. (“Dick Grayson doesn't die. He just disappoints.”)
Dick’s phone is still buzzing in his grip.
His hands are sweating, and he feels himself choke as he swallows.
His finger hits accept.
“Dick.” Bruce’s voice floats from the speaker. Except his voice is too loud and it echoes in the small room Dick calls his bedroom.
His body shudders, his scarred back suddenly begins to itch. His skin feels wrong as he stares at Bruce’s name displayed on his phone.
A strained grunt comes from his speaker as Bruce- no Batman speaks. “I need Nightwing in Gotham. Tonight.” There is no room for discussion. Dick knows an order when he hears one. He’s been following them his whole life.
“Bruce…” Dick starts, his throat feels like it's closing in on itself as he speaks. He wants to claw at his neck until his fingers brush the inside of his trachea. “I’m dealing with something in Blüdhaven.”
It's a pathetic excuse and he knows Bruce sees or he guesses hears right through it.
“No. I need you in Gotham by morning.” Batman growls. “I need everyone in on this.”
Dick can feel the frustration dripping off Batman like water.
“Can you at least explain what’s going on?” Dick is tired. Tired of Batman bossing him around and just overall tired of life.
“I’ll explain when you get here.” Then Bruce hangs up.
Dick blinks down at the black phone screen.
Of course. Of fucking course Batman would hang up.
Dick stumbles out of bed in a daze. He methodically puts the Nightwing suit on and grabs anything he might need.
By the time Dick comes back to his senses he’s already driving into the entrance of the Batcave.
Dick feels lightheaded as he parks his bike next to…Tim’s and Jason’s. Oh, this was going to suck.
He slowly makes his way towards the bat computer where Batman is sitting, typing away. The sound grates on his ears but he’s grateful for it because the cave isn't just silent. He stops a good four feet from where Batman is sitting. His back begins to itch once more as he stares at Batman. His eyes slide around the cave; they stop on the display case. A good soldier. Dick winces at the plaque. He tears his eyes away a second later to look back at Batman.
“Where are the others?” Dick asks, though his voice comes out hoarse.
Batman twitches slightly, his finger’s stilling on the keyboard. “Everyone is upstairs at the moment.”
Dick feels his heart skip a beat as Batman turns the chair around. He’s in the full Batman get up. The cowl is pulled over his head and Dick has to stop himself from hurling as nausea turns in his stomach.
“We were waiting for you.” Batman says as he looks Dick over.
Bile rises up his throat, burning the sensitive flesh. He swallows it back down, determined to not release any of his stomach contents. “Sorry…your call was a little last minute.”
Batman just grunts as he stands to his full height. He takes purposeful steps towards Dick, his face remaining impassive.
Dick has to force his body to stay still. He feels the anxiety burrow under his skin and lay there; Dick wants to scratch his skin till it bleeds. Watch as the anxiety spills out of his body, slowly.
Batman stops in front of Dick. He’s close enough to grab Dick if he wants to or hit him, but all he does is stare. The white lenses unnerve Dick. He flinches when Batman suddenly lifts his hand to his ear.
The hand pauses.
Batman pauses, his body going still.
Guilt washes over Dick before embarrassment overtakes it.
“Come back down to the Batcave for debriefing.” Batman orders, then he drops his hand. “I'm glad you made it.”
Dick looks at Batman in confusion. “What?”
Batman’s mouth ticks down. He glances at the stairs that lead to the manor.
“I’m glad you came when I called. I need you tonight.”
Dick feels anger creep up his spine. It's a familiar emotion.
“Wow. You're glad I made it so I can help you.” Dick seethes. “Unbelievable.”
Batman looks although he wants to say something, but three pairs of footsteps interrupt him. Both of them turn towards the stairs. He can hear Jason and Tim talking. They sound happy.
Damian is the first to come into view. He is dressed in his Robin suit except for his domino. His hair is spiked up like always and Dick can't help but smile a little. Damian sees him as soon as he steps foot on the cave floor.
“Richard.” He greets as he all but speed walks over to Dick.
“Hey, Baby Bat.” Dick greets, his hands itching to run through Damian's hair.
Jason and Tim come into view a few seconds later. Jason catches sight of him and sneers. Tim just stares coldly, his body going tense.
“Surprised you made it.” Jason scoffed, making his way towards the bat computer. “Figured you were off on another spy retreat.”
Dick flinches back at Jason’s words. They were meant to hurt, and they did just that.
Damian bristles at his side. “Be quiet Todd!”
“What?” Jason asks, feigning ignorance.
“Enough.”
Everyone turns to Batman. His shoulders are tense, and his mouth is set in a frown. Dick feels goosebumps ride up his arms at Batman’s voice.
“You are all here for a mission.” Bruce informs them as he walks back over to the bat computer. He pulls up a large map of Gotham. “Scarecrow’s goons have been spotted near the docks. They seem to be selling some kind of variant of fear gas. They have a shipment heading out at sunrise, so we need to stop it.”
Dick feels a headache coming on.
Of course, it had to be Scarecrow that got him called back to Gotham.
“The shipment is meant to leave the dock at 7:00 am, so we have around two hours to prepare and one hour to patrol the area and keep an eye on the docks.” Batman looks at everyone, his mouth set in a firm line.
“Okay! Great plan, old man.” Jason is leaning on the batcomputer desk, his hands waving wildly in front of him. “I just want to get this out there, but I don't want to work with Golden Boy over there.”
Dick feels his heart clench at Jason’s words.
Batman grunts, his hands twitching minutely.
“Who you're working with has already been decided on.” Batman informs, pulling up the patrol list.
Dick scans it over, his stomach falling to his feet.
Jason and Tim are paired together, and Batman and Robin are together.
But Dick is…alone.
“Okay, everyone suit up. We leave in 15 minutes.” Batman orders, moving to sit in front of the bat computer again.
“Cmon Timbers!” Jason shouts as he makes his way to the locker room, Tim following closely behind.
Dick watches the two walk away, his heart twisting in his chest.
A small hand taps his side, startling him. Damian is staring up at him, his brows scrunched.
“What's up, Dami?” Dick crouches down, laying a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.
Damian hesitates, his eyes flickering over Dick’s face, “Have you been sleeping well?”
The question was…unexpected to say the least. He blinks for a few seconds, stumped on what to say.
“Ah...I’ve been sleeping pretty well. Why do you ask buddy?”
“Hmph. I was just inquiring how you have been.” Damian crosses his arms, his signature scowl scrunching his features. “You haven't been to the manor in a while.” Damian adds in a small voice.
Dick’s grip on Damin’s shoulder tightens.
He knows he hasn't been to the manor in a while. He’s made the conscious decision not to. It feels like the large house will collapse on him, suffocating him under memories and rumble.
“I know.” Dick gives Damian a small smile. “I'll try to stop by more often.”
Damian’s eyes light up, his shoulder slumping slightly in Dick’s grasp. “If you insist.”
Dick laughs, reaching a hand up to ruffle Damian's hair. The boy squawked in indignation, trying to swat at Dick’s offending hand.
God, he’s missed this. He had missed Damian so much when he was in Spyral. He had thought the boy was still dead, gone from the world forever. He remembered spending nights just reminiscing over his time as Batman when Damian was his Robin. Of course, those moments would be soured when his mind drifted to Tim. Remembering the decision he had made that had driven his brother away.
A loud bang brings Dick out of his thoughts.
Jason and Tim stroll out of the locker room, now dressed in their full Red Hood and Red Robin suits.
“Dick, you're patrolling the west end of the docks.” Batman instructs, his fingers adjusting his belt.
“Got it.” With a grunt Dick stands from his crouched position. He quickly applies his domino mask to his face, listening to Batman as he gives out the rest of his orders.
“Jason, you and Tim are patrolling the north end of the docks.” Jason gives Batman a comical thumbs up.
“Me and Damian will be patrolling the east side of the docks.” Batman turns on his heel, his cape fluttering behind him as he makes his way to the Batmobile. “Stay in your area unless instructed otherwise.”
Dick watches as everyone begins to shuffle towards their respective vehicles.
With a deep sigh Dick heads to his own bike, hopping on and starting the engine. It vibrates beneath him as he fits his head into his helmet.
The roar of the batmobile hits his ears as it screeches out of the cave with Jason and Tim on its tail.
Dick is left alone.
________________________
Gotham's polluted air fills Dick’s nose as he stalks along the roof of a warehouse on the west side of the docks.
So far, he hasn't spotted any of Scarecrow's goons. He also hasn't heard anything, other than the waves from the river crashing into the docks.
His comm crackles in his ear, “Nightwing, have you seen anything?”
“Nope. It’s pretty dead over here.” He responds, his gaze scanning the ground below him.
Jason scoffs. “Just like you were supposed to be.”
Dick bites the inside of his cheek, his throat feeling suspiciously tight, like someone was trying to shove a pill down it. He should be used to Jason’s comments by now. He had been hearing them for the past couple of weeks, but they still affect him.
You were supposed to be dead too, a small part of him screams. He shakes his head, freeing the thought from his mind.
He makes his way across the warehouse's roof, getting ready to grapple to the next one when the sound of something hitting the ground catches his attention. Leaning over the edge of the roof, he spots two guys dressed in black, hurrying to pick up a wooden crate.
They manage to haul the crate up. Their bodies tremble as they carry the crate into the warehouse.
Dick looks around the roof, hoping for some sort of access to the inside. Sadly, the bare roof has nothing to offer, so he decides he needs to find a window to climb through.
“What a pleasant surprise.” A familiar voice drawls from behind him.
A chill runs up Dick’s spine as he spins around, escrima sticks gripped tightly in his hands.
In all his black and orange glory, stands Deathstroke. He has his signature twin katanas strapped to his back and a compressed staff is held in his left hand. His posture is relaxed, like he doesn't view Dick as a threat.
Dick exhales shakily, white knuckling his escrima sticks.
“What are you doing here?” Dick bites out. He doesn't want to deal with this right now.
Slade just tilts his head like he doesn't understand the question.
“Contract. Scarecrow is willing to pay a hefty sum of money if this shipment is able to leave Gotham’s docks.” Slade explains, his voice laced with amusement. “Though, shouldn't I be the one asking questions, little bird?”
Dick refuses to flinch when Deathstroke takes a meaningful step forward.
“Like, how are you alive? Last time I checked you were dead and buried in Bruce Wayne's own little cemetery.”
“Well, I’m right as rain now!” Dick grins, cocking his head to the side, just like Slade had done. He tries not to think about how the coffin that was buried in the manor’s backyard was just empty. Dick had been in a place far worse than that coffin.
“Of course you are. You're Renegade after all.” The smile is audible in Slade’s voice.
“That's not my name, Slade.” Dick grits out.
He hadn't been Renegade for years now and he planned to keep it that way.
Slade just shrugs. “You’ll always be Renegade in my eyes, little bird.”
“Well at least only half of you is seeing that! You know, because of the whole one eye situation you got going on.”
Dick brings his escrima sticks up, blocking one of Slade's katanas. The two are inches apart now, meaning Dick can see the anger in Slade's eye. The air shifts as Dick flips backward from the katana that is swung towards his torso.
“I forgot how infuriating you could be.” Slade growls, all the amusement from earlier gone.
He advances again, but Dick is faster. He side steps and thrusts one of his escrima sticks forward, striking Deathstroke's mask.
White hot agony slices up his arm.
Slade had predicted his move, moving his katana so it would slice up Dick’s arm when he moved to strike the dual mask.
Blood seeps onto the roof as Dick retreats backwards. He doesn't make it far. Slade leaps forward, kicking Dick’s legs out from under him.
With a loud clang Dick’s back hits the metal roof, knocking the wind from his lungs. Slade is looming above him and Dick can imagine the smirk on his face. He raises a steel toed boot, pressing it to Dick’s sternum. Dick yelps when Slade leans his weight onto his foot. It feels like his sternum is going to cave in.
“What happened to you, little bird?” Slade scolds mockingly.
“Get off me!” Dick gasps, his lungs burning.
Slade tsk’s, bringing one of his katanas down to trace Dick’s chest. “You should come back to me. You know what a good team we make.”
Dick struggled to get out from under Slade's boot. “Fuck you!” He spat, hands desperately clawing at Slade’s boot.
“So feisty!” Slade chuckled. His katana traced upward, coming to rest on Dick’s throat. One twitch and the blade would pierce his neck.
Dick forced his muscles still, watching warily as Slade stared at his throat like he was transfixed.
“I’ve missed you.” Slade muttered softly, “When you were presumed dead, I had no one to toy around with.”
Dick sneered, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He hated how Slade spoke, like Dick was just something for his enjoyment.
Slade shifted, the katana biting into the sensitive skin of his neck before it was drawn away. Dick didn't waste a second in jumping to his feet. He used his foot to kick one of his escrima sticks up and into his hand, holding it in front of him. Slade didn't react, opting to step away and sheath his katana.
“It’s been fun, Nightwing.” Slade purred, “I look forward to seeing you again.”
“Stay away from me.” Dick growled, taking a brave step forward.
Slade stepped back up, and he was on the edge of the roof, no doubt with a grin on his face. With a salute he dropped backwards, falling out of Dick’s eyesight.
Dick raced forward, his feet slipping on the bloody roof to peer over the edge. Just as he had expected Slade was gone.
Dick straightened up and looked down at the sluggish bleeding wound tracing up his arm. It was going to be a pain to deal with because it definitely needed stitches. With a groan he picked up his other escrima stick and placed them both back into their respective holsters.
Batman’s voice sounded in his ear. “Nightwing, anything to report?”
“Saw two guys carrying a wooden crate into a warehouse and apparently Scarecrow is willing to pay top dollar to have Sl-Deathstroke oversee this shipment.” Dick informed.
“Deathstroke? Did you see him?” Tim asked. Dick couldn't help noticing this was the first time Tim had taken to him all night.
“More like he saw me and decided to rough me up a little. He ended up getting away.” Dick could just imagine Batman’s disappointment.
“He got away?” Batman hissed, anger coloring his tone. “How?”
Dick sighed. “He roughed me up, got a good hit in and then decided to leave.” He decided to leave out the part where Slade asked him to become Renegade again, or the part where he almost slit Dick’s neck open.
“Head back to the cave. The rest of us will finish this mission.” Batman growled.
“Got it.” Dick mumbled as he made his way back to his bike.
________________________
The batmobile screeched into the cave as Dick was finishing stitching up the gash on his arm.
Batman slammed the door shut as he stepped out of the Batmobile, making a beeline for Dick. He pulled off the cowl right before he entered the med bay. Dick had a perfect view of his face, his brows were furrowed in anger, and his mouth was set in a grim line.
“What happened with Deathstroke?” Bruce ground out, taking in Dicks sutured wound.
“I already told you!” Dick snapped, swiftly getting to his feet and crowding Bruce’s space. “He got a good hit on me and then fled."
“I know there is more than that. You're leaving out details that could help us stop Deathstroke.” Bruce growled, standing tall as Dick continued to crowd him.
A laugh burst from Dick’s throat, it almost sounded manic. “No, none of the details I am leaving out will help you catch him. He was just reminding me of the good old times when I was forced to work under him!” Dick was out of breath by the end of his rant, but anger still burned inside him. “Why should I ever tell you anything again? You betrayed my trust, forced me to go somewhere that basically ruined me! You were supposed to be there for me after what Luthor did, instead you beat me into the ground!”
The cave was dead silent.
Dick felt the anger that had been burning his body sweep out of him. He could see Jason and Tim behind Bruce, their masks were off. Both of them had twin looks of horror on their faces.
Damian was still near the Batmobile, his small hand gripping the door. He had his mask off too, and his face was twisted with sadness. He looked like the 12-year-old boy he was supposed to be.
Dick’s eyes shifted to Bruce whose face was blank. His shoulders were rigid and his breathing was even. Their eyes connected and Dick needed to get out.
He stumbled forward, clipping Bruce’s shoulder as he made the trek to his bike.
“Dick!” Tim called desperately.
Dick barely heard him as he hopped on his bike and pulled out of the cave.
________________________
Dick’s Blüdhaven apartment was quiet, like the cave had been, as he laid down on his couch. He had his arm pulled over his eyes; his injured arm was laying limp at his side. He had changed out of his Nightwing suit, now wearing a worn Superman shirt and some plain grey sweatpants.
God, he is such a fucking coward.
“Dick?”
With a jolt Dick sat up, whipping around to see Tim standing in front of his window. He was wringing his hands nervously, his eyes darting around Dick’s dark apartment.
“Tim? What are you doing here?” Dick asked.
A moment of silence before Tim responded in a shaky voice. “I…I’m sorry.”
Dick felt his jaw drop.
Tim bulldozed on, his words tumbling over each other. “I’m sorry for shutting you out. I was just so angry that you had seemingly lied to me. I mean, I had grieved you! I thought my big brother had died and I was going to be left alone in this horrible world.”
All Dick could do was stare as tears started to stream down Tim’s pale face.
This was all Dick had wanted, for his brother to finally believe him. To finally have his family back, but sitting here watching Tim fall apart, the only thing he felt was guilt.
“Oh Timmy, it’s okay.” Dick reassured, standing up on unsteady legs to pull Tim into a crushing hug. He felt warm tears soak through his shirt, but he didn't mind, just squeezing his little brother even tighter.
“Please don't forgive me Dick.” Tim pleaded even as he twisted his hands into the fabric of Dick’s shirt. “I’m a horrible brother.”
“No, you are an amazing brother. I love you so much, Timmy.” Dick whispered into Tim’s hair. “You are allowed to feel whatever you want; I will never hold this against you.”
Tim just sobbed harder.
Dick glanced up to the still open window, only to see Jason crouched on the fire escape. Damian was standing behind him, looking unbelievably small.
“You guys can come in.”
Jason slipped through the window and came to stand behind Tim, while Damian came to stand near Dick. Tim didn't acknowledge them, choosing to tighten his grip on Dick.
“You really blew up back in the cave.” Jason was gazing at a wall as he spoke, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.
“I guess I did.” He murmured, watching as Jason twitched.
“I’m sorry for punching you. That was really a dick move.”
Dick let out a breathy laugh. Jason grinned as he finally made eye contact with Dick.
“Hey…I know you might not want to talk now but whenever you are ready, we will all listen.”
Tim and Damian nodded along with Jason’s statement.
Dick felt the familiar burn of tears, blinking rapidly. He smiled into Tim’s hair as he reached out to snag Damian’s arm and pull him to his side. Damian goes along without a fight, snuggling his face into Dick’s ribs.
“Little Wing.” Dick smiles when Jason takes a small step forward. “I really need a hug from my little brother.”
Jason gives in and takes a few steps forward before he wraps his arms around Dick, smushing Tim between the two.
“Whatever.” Jason grumbles, tightening his hold.
Dick leans into his little brother’s affection and he knows that everything will work out.