She hears voices as she goes to open the door. The people standing outside are loud and disgruntled, and she can hear every word.
"Why the fuck did we agree to this?"
"We owe it to him for last week."
"Yeah, if we didn't do it, he'd keep glaring at us and moping around the house. You don't want an angry Nightwing. It's not normal."
Carol blinks, and then opens the door. She hadn't exactly expected children outside — sure, it was Halloween, and Halloween meant trick-or-treaters, but the voices on the other side of the door hadn't sounded like the voices of children. That wasn't too strange; there were enough people who refused to let go of their childhood, and clung onto childish traditions like this one.
But when she does open it, she can't help but stare. Maybe she's even gawking a little, but she can't stop herself. Because yes, there is a large group milling around her doorstep, and most of them are adults. Carol sees one child, and perhaps a few teenagers, but it's hard to tell.
That's not what surprises her. What catches her attention, what has her gaping at them, is their costumes. They look ridiculous. There are six of them in total, and each are dressed up as Gotham's resident heroes. Surprisingly, there doesn't seem to be a Batman present — she saw Robin, Nightwing, Red Robin, Batgirl, Black Bat, and…Red Hood? Odd choice, if you were going with the superhero theme; she always saw him as more of an anti-hero than anything, with his penchant for guns and killing, but she supposes she's seem stranger.
Overall, it should have been a good choice. Perhaps a little overdone, but not bad, not bad at all. And the costumes look like they should look good, just…not on them. Because the problem is, while they all seem to be of great quality, none of them fit right.
The little boy is dressed in what she recognises as Red Robin's costume. It's far too big for him, and the sleeves fall down, far past the ends of his arms, and the lower half is dragging on the floor. The rest of the material billows around him, and it's clear that this costume was meant for an adult. She briefly thinks, 'what were his parents thinking, this thing isn't even close to fitting,' before the other costumes catch her attention.
The man dressed as Red Hood doesn't look too bad. The costume is a little big, but nothing compared to poor Red Robin. There's a girl with short, dark hair, dressed as Nightwing, and again, it's a little big, but nothing too bad. The only costume that really seems to fit is the one that the blond girl is wearing — she's supposed to be Black Bat, she realises after a moment.
It's the last two costumes that really catch her attention. The younger looking boy, the one she guesses is a teenager — it's hard to tell behind the cowl though — is scowling deeply, and is undoubtedly supposed to be Batgirl. He shifts uncomfortably under her gaze, and then she turns her sights to the person next to him, who is the worst of the lot.
He's supposed to be Robin. She gets that, but what she can't understand is why he couldn't find himself a larger costume. This costume was clearly one made for a child, and nothing fits right. The top is only pulled down partially, the pants remain only half way up his legs. She's thankful he's at least had the sense to wear some shorts and a singlet underneath, but…really? That thing doesn't even come close to fitting; why on earth would he buy it?
'And why on earth isn't the child wearing THAT costume?'
"Trick or treat!" Red Hood says cheerfully, while the rest of the group groan and grumble in the background. Carol forces a smile onto her face, and reaches into the candy bowl on the counter beside her. She dumps large handfuls in their bags, without really noticing how much she is putting in.
"Like our costumes?" Red Hood continues. She imagine he's grinning under the hood. All in all, it's a very realistic costume; she just thinks someone else could wear it better. Perhaps Robin, if he gave that terrible, ill-fitting costume to the youngest of the lot. "We traded for the night."
Her brow furrows, and despite telling herself that she should really close the door, she finds herself asking, "what?"
"Well, I'm actually Nightwing. Robin — " He points at the man with the strange, ill-fitting costume — "is actually Red Hood. Nightwing is Black Bat, Batgirl is Red Robin, Black Bat is Batgirl and Red Robin is Robin."
It's confusing as hell, but when she finally understands what he's trying to say, she wonders if he's joking.
"What?" she manages, and he waves cheerily at her.
"Have a nice night!"
The group file away, all slumped shoulders and dragging feet (she notices poor Red Robin/Robin/whoever the hell he is keeps tripping over the heavy, oversized material. And no way are these people the real thing; real heroes wouldn't participate in this kind of ridiculousness, they had far better things to do), except for Red Hood/Nightwing/who-even-cared-at-this-point, who practically skips ahead.
Weird. Really, really weird.
She shuts the door.
...
"Can we go home now?"
Dick reaches down to ruffle Damian's hair. The boy sidesteps him, and then trips over his own feet. That costume really is way too big for him.
"Not yet," he tells Damian, and he hears a collective groan from the group. He bites back a grin, because really, this is just too good. He wouldn't admit it out loud of course, because he's supposed to be above things like tormenting his siblings. But this is just so fun, and after what they put him through last patrol, they deserve it. "Come on, we have more houses to visit!"
"Dickhead, I can't fucking move in these pants!" Jason snarls.
"No names in public," Tim says dully, still looking like he wants to sink through the floor. Dick supposes that wearing a Batgirl costume would do that to any guy, and he feels bad for Tim for drawing the short straw, but…
"A few more houses. You guys said you'd be willing to make it up to me, remember?"
They glare, but no one argues. Dick does a little victory dance on the inside.
"This is ridiculous," Damian grumbles. "We should be spending the night patrolling in our actual attire, not masquerading around as each other, demanding sweets. And why on earth couldn't we have bought costumes that actually fit."
Damian shuffles in the oversized Red Robin outfit, and Dick has to bite back a squeal at how cute he looks.
"The deal was, we switch costumes for the night," Dick says. "It's more fun this way. See? We've literally switched costumes."
He gestures at the group, who all looked like 'fun' isn't a notion that had even crossed their minds. He also can't help but notice Damian's disgruntled expression, or how miserable Tim and Jason look. At least Steph and Cass don't look too upset, but still. Dick supposes he can relent a little bit.
"One more house," he says, "and then we can go home and eat the candy. What do you guys say?"
Because hey, they'd agreed to come out in the first place, and that was practically a miracle right there.
They all nod their heads in reluctant agreement, and Dick grins, and hurries ahead. They receive strange looks, but Dick can't bring himself to care. There all here, together, and even though he's pretty sure more than one of them might try to kill him by the end of the night, it's moments like these that he loves the most.
(Even though yes, they all look ridiculous. And this is still kind of hilarious, although saying so out loud at this point would probably be risking death).