About this fic- Basically, a Dick Grayson from some random universe ends up jumping to another Earth, since his has been all but destroyed.
And he ends up having to adjust to life on another world with a different Bruce and a bunch of other kids that the Bat apparently adopted.
Not to mention the effects on the young teenager's mind from watching his world crumble before him.
The first chapter is intense, and then it's all recovery, because who doesn't like a good recovery story!? Recovery is my jam!
Warnings- Mentioned Character Death (but I say 'mentioned' because it happened in a different universe) so does that count?
Also, slight injury.
Disclaimer- Na-na-na-na-not-mine!
Worlds Apart
New Beginnings
Dick's Perspective-
He was running.
He was always running.
He never stopped running.
Robin pushed himself to go faster, his legs burning with his lungs and his dislocated shoulder aching with every jostled step he took. But he couldn't stop moving, the moment you stopped moving you were dead.
That is something that Dick had learned rather quickly. If you don't make the first move, if you aren't three steps ahead at all times, then you might as well take a knife to your own throat. Because in this world, if you aren't prepared for the worst, then you aren't prepared at all.
Robin turned sharply, throwing a Batarang in his enemy's direction, and taking off into the shadowed night again as he heard the weapon explode with a few quick beeps.
Dick's vision was blurring, his lungs heaving, and his pulse rapidly beating, he couldn't do this much longer. His body was going to give up on him soon, and then that would be it.
How long had he been fighting? Days? Weeks? He wasn't sure anymore. Everything had become a blur after Bruce…after Bruce-
He wasn't thinking about that now, Dick wouldn't allow himself to think about it, letting his emotions cloud his mind would ruin his judgment and make him sloppy. The time to deal with his feelings was definitely not while he was running for his life with only a handful of weapons left. That was the sort of thing that would end up getting Robin killed.
Just like the rest of them.
Just like Wally.
Just like Clark.
Just like Bru-
Dick's body is thrown forward without warning, something wrapping its way around his chest, and pinning his arms to his sides as he loses his balance and falls to the cold ground with a choked off yelp.
The teen struggles for a moment before slicing through the cables with a twist of a Batarang, freeing himself from the trap and then racing forward again.
Don't stop moving.
Never stop moving.
They were right behind Robin now, he could hear the clicking of their boots, the whirring of their alien weapons, and the panting of one of their animal-like creations sniffing him out like the hunted prey that he is.
It was all too familiar. Dick running through the dark, bleeding and hurt, praying that he would find some sort of escape before they could catch him.
But he wouldn't get away this time.
Because Robin must have been one of the last ones. Wasn't he? Most of the heroes were all dead by now. And so, Dick was alone in this, there wasn't anyone to call, there wasn't anyone to rely on or wait for. Because Robin was one of the (if not The Only) last survivors.
And pretty soon he wouldn't even be here to claim that title.
This had all started a year ago, (god, had it only been a year?) the Invaders had come like a mist in the middle of the night. There had been no warning, no time to make plans or to be diplomatic. No one had seen them coming, and by the time everyone realized what was going on, it had been too late.
It was a massacre, one that Dick didn't want to get into. A slaughter that should be left undetailed for sake of his sanity. It was a holocaust that would haunt Dick for the rest of his life. Though it seemed his life would only last another few hours or so, so that wasn't saying much.
The alien's tactics were logical and dealt out with precision, nothing happened without cause, and everything happened according to their plans.
When the heroes were out trying to stop one disaster from happening, another would accrue. The Invaders had gone after the crops, burning down any form of nature and leaving the Earth scarred. Then it had been the water, even touching it was asking for death.
Most people died after that.
But then the creatures had started to come. The aliens themselves had not been seen before, but then they and their rabid animal-like creations came down to the land and picked off the remaining people one by one. It had all happened so fast. And there were just so many, so many of them, at that point there was no saving the world.
It was just about saving yourself.
Once most normal people were picked off, The Hunt began.
The aliens seemed to think all the Superheroes were amusing to fight. Most had already died in the war, but still, some heroes remained. And those were the heroes that were left trying to survive while being hunted down for the kill.
That's where Dick was left now; being chased down and never knowing what the next day might hold.
The teenager had no clue where he even was, somewhere in the United States was the extent of his knowledge. Dick had no idea what day or month it even was anymore, it was hard to keep track of when you were constantly on the move without any real form of technology. (Not that knowing the day of the week or the date would help Dick in any way shape or form, that would have been more for his minds sake than anything else)
Buildings were left falling apart and crumbling down, cities destroyed (including Gotham) and skyscrapers nothing more than glass and ash. But there were no forests or woods either, it had been months since Dick had last seen a blade of grass or an animal even. So, there was no hiding in nature. Not anymore.
The alien creatures would be able to sniff him out even if Robin did take a chance and go to camp out in the mountains or something similar, though. His best bet was to hide in the rubble of cities using his training from Batman and the carnage and landscape as a way of hiding, and then just hope that he could outmaneuver the aliens.
It had been easier when Batman had still been with him. Robin and Batman could watch out for one another, build tech with what they could find and gather what they needed in order to plan and survive in this broken world.
But Bruce was gone now.
Dead.
Just like everyone else that Dick cared about.
Robin launched himself out of the crumbling side of a building and tucked his body into a roll before landing on the rooftop of the next skyscraper. Robin forced his eyes to look ahead and not on how high up he was. Dick wasn't afraid of heights, not usually at least, but being what must have been hundreds of feet up in the air with no grapple to save him if he should fall, was something that left the teen with butterflies in his stomach and tingling fingers.
There was a loud snarl from behind Robin and the teenager forced his legs to go faster. He hadn't gotten a good glance at the creature, but it looked to be the size of a bear and Dick had no desires to fight the thing, he'd have to be a complete idiot to think he could come out of that fight the victor.
Robin turned abruptly, Batman's cape flapping out behind him in ruined strips, -Bruce had given it to him for warmth the night before they had been attacked. The night before Bruce died protecting Dick- The teen was headed for the next building, aiming himself for a shattered window a few stories down, when something sliced through his tunic and right side.
Robin cried out as the knife cut over his ribs, squeezing his eyes shut as he and the blade landed inside of the office building with a roll. Dick pressed a hand to the wound, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood coating his fingers as he crawled over and grabbed the discarded blade hurriedly.
Dick was going to die. If not by the aliens hunting him down, then from blood loss. It was a done deal now. But just because Dick was going to die didn't mean he was going to take it without a fight.
The blade didn't fit in his palm well, made for creatures with very different hands, and his fingers trembled as he clutched it. His nerves were frayed, and his body was more on edge than it had ever been. But Robin forced himself to hide in the shadows, to go on the offensive instead of the defensive.
There was no running anymore, he was perfect pray to track at this point, bleeding and wheezing, desperate and alone. So, Robin's only option was to attack first, he doubted he would win, he'd be a moron if the thought even crossed his mind. But these were the things that took away his world, took away his friends, took away his family- Robin would be damned if he died laying down.
With a gurgled roar the large alien creature landed in front of Robin. Dick had a clear view of it now, it looked to be a mix between a dog and a bear, but its skin was shiny and oily, like blubber. It was down on all fours, its sharp jagged teeth dripping saliva and waiting to dig into Dick's flesh.
Out of all the ways that Robin had thought he was going to die, this had not been it.
A year ago, his nightmares of dying had had a bit more purple and green in them, and a not once had he ever dreamt about an alien animal eating him alive. But that was life for'ya, always gotta throw a curveball.
Robin shifted, moving his legs and trying to get into a fighting stance. But it was hard when he was shaking so violently. Dick could admit to being scared, it was his human right to be scared in the face of death, he was only fourteen after all.
But just because he was scared didn't mean he couldn't also be brave.
With a cry of rage and desperation, Robin charged forward, the beast did as well, it's roar overshadowing Dick's yell four times over, it made the teenager's ears ring and his skin crawl being so close to what he knew was going to kill him.
But Robin could do this.
Dick could do this.
He would.
For Batman.
For Bruce.
Robin let go of his bleeding side and held onto the blade with both hands, letting his boots slam against the tiled floor as he ran forward. And then the monster pounced for him, using its backward-facing hind legs to launch itself into the air with another gurgled screech.
But that is where the creature had made a mistake. (Because while these things might be terrifying, they weren't all that bright, it was just an animal after all)
This is where Robin saw his opening, the monster's underside exposed as it reached out for the teenager with sharp claws. Robin let himself skid forward onto his back, forcing himself to ignore the pain that caused. Dick pointed the knife up and slashed at the creature's belly as he slid under it.
The monster screamed once again before kicking at Dick, but the teen rolled out of the way, jostling his dislocated shoulder as he jumped back to his feet and nearly tripped over the too long cape.
Everything hurt.
Well, that was putting it lightly.
Dick's body has been tired and worn for so long now he no longer remembered what it felt like to not be exhausted. His mind was always on high alert, constantly ready to jump up and book-it at a moment's notice. And his heart was torn and ripped to shreds, the year leaving Robin broken in more ways than one.
So yes, to sum up in a few words that did not convey how Dick felt in any measure, 'everything hurt'.
The monster rolled to the side with another gurgle, this noise sounding wounded and panted out. Maybe Dick had nicked something vital, he sure hoped so. Even if he didn't get out of this, then at least he had taken away one of the Invader's pets.
A moment later three more figures rolled into the room and up to their feet effortlessly, these ones looking more humanoid, their limbs tall and gangly, small like tree branches but somehow strong enough to break bone (Robin knew this from experience) their faces all hidden away with large masks that lit up in a dark purple that illuminated their hooded heads, the dark fabric obscuring any other features from Robin's eyes.
Dick's breath shuttered from his chest, the prickly sting of fear making his body feel jittery and his skin too tight. The aliens, the Invaders. They were here, and they were ready, the chase was finally coming to an end. This was all a game to them, all of it,that's why life was expendable, that's why they didn't end this like they could have weeks ago, they took their time playing around with Dick, because he was nothing more than a prize to them, and unfortunately for Robin, he was about to be claimed.
The animal-like creature still lay on the floor, a puddle of purple-ish black seeping from where Robin had cut it, it withered and gurgled a bit more as its masters came into view. Twitching and struggling to get the alien's attention.
But save for the creatures harsh breathing and whines, the room was silent and eerie. The Invaders never looking away from Robin, and Robin to afraid to look anywhere else.
Dick had never heard the aliens speak, no one had. Not once in this whole year of hell had he heard one word, or even a sound come from them. He used to wonder if they were mute, without voices or the capacity, but really, if Dick thought about it, it was probably just another scare tactic. The aliens were already ninja-like, stealthy and flexible, adding on the fact that they were silent just made them all the more deadly.
All the more terrifying.
Robin shifted, getting ready for an attack or maybe to run, should he make the first move? They probably wouldn't expect that; up until this point Robin's plan had been to evade and avoid. Dick wasn't sure what he wanted to do now that he was in this standoff. Prolong his life by a few more agonizing hours of chase or get it over with now?
Ah, such lovely options.
The Invader in the middle walked up slowly, reaching for something on its back, and allowing Robin to see it's backward-facing elbows and three long fingers- sharp and jagged digits slow and calculating -as it clasped the handle of its spear, before pulling out the weapon and pointing it in the boy's direction.
The teen froze, swallowing down the ever-growing lump in his throat as he waited, he was halfway across the room, a good chunk of space between him and his attackers, but that meant nothing, the aliens were fast, faster than any human, let alone Dick, could ever strive to be.
The Invader took a step forward then, and Robin had to clench down every muscle in his body in order not to take a step backward in reply. The monster gurgled and moaned down on the floor again, and suddenly the alien twirled the spear around its three fingers before clasping it with both hands, jamming the end of the weapon into the creature's head without any warning whatsoever.
Dick's mouth went dry as his heartrate picked up, the boy watched the puddle of what must be blood begin to spread from the now lifeless creature sprawled out on the floor. It was chilling to see that the Invaders didn't so much as care for their own creations.
It was a reminder to Robin of just how evil and emotionless these aliens were, how, given the chance, they would kill Dick without so much as a single thought. There would be no hesitance, no apathy, no concern, it would be quick and painful, just like it had been with everyone else.
And that's when Dick decided he did not want to die here next to the dead blubber monster.
No, not if he had something to say about it.
Robin reached into his utility belt as quickly as he could, causing the aliens to dash forward at a sprint. The boy threw down his last smoke-pellet and propelled himself to an open door in one swift move. Running as fast as he could without making a sound.
Dick placed one hand over his bleeding side and his other over his heaving mouth as he turned another corner, he needed to be stealthy and listen, now that the monster was dead there was nothing to let Robin know the aliens were approaching, they were just so noiseless, like leaves blowing in the wind or feathers falling from the sky.
Robin twisted from one hallway into another, his legs shaking from too much exertion, his heart pounding with fear-induced adrenaline. He knew they were playing with him. The aliens probably thought this was even more amusing, they were in a game of cat and mouse in a maze of a broken building, and they knew they had Robin trapped and terrified.
It was the perfect playing ground.
The teenager's only chance was to hide, without their monster to sniff him out he may be able to buy himself some time. But really that was wishful thinking, any amount of time that Dick could steal was limited and ticking down.
After running up a few flights of stairs Robin found an air vent big enough for him to squeeze into, the cold metal walls pressing in all around him as he lodged himself forward with kicking feet.
This was a dumb place to hide, (Batman wouldn't have been pleased) once they found him, there was nowhere Dick could go, he had essentially trapped himself.
But that wasn't why Robin needed to hide, he knew he only had minutes left, knew he was going to be found. But he had one last thing he needed to do before the aliens claimed him as their next victim.
It took a moment for Dick to find what he was looking for in his utility belt, his fingers trembling and his body turned at an odd angle. But after a second the teenager was able to pull out a small round device, it was glowing faintly with a chunk of kryptonite, (it's power source) and it had one faintly yellow button on the top.
Robin clutched it to his chest, staring at the button with wide eyes.
Batman had given this to Robin months ago, and when Dick had asked what it did, Bruce had only said it was a Last Resort, that Dick was to only use it in a situation he couldn't get out of.
Then Bruce had given Dick a small hard-drive, telling the boy to keep it no matter what, Dick had thought about pointing out the obvious- the world was without power, making the hard-drive useless now. But instead of arguing he had just placed both the device and the drive in his belt, keeping them there safely, because Bruce had said to, and Dick would never disobey Bruce, not even in death.
Robin looked at the device, having no idea what it might do, he doubted that it could get him out of this situation, how could it? He was trapped in an air vent with three Invaders hunting him down. There was no escaping that. The teen licked his lips uncertainly, his shaking thumb hovering over the button.
What if it was a bomb?
What if he blew himself up?
Would that be a better alternative?
Is that why Bruce hadn't told him what it did?
Suddenly there was a scratching scraping sound against the walls, making Robin flinch as he cut off the yelp that almost escaped his lips. The scraping soon turned into a pounding that vibrated up the walls and into Robin's bones, it turned rhythmic a moment later, as if the aliens were chanting at Dick, announcing that they had found him and that his life was now over.
The teenager jumped in shock as a spear popped up next to him, scraping against the metal of the vent before ripping back out and plunging itself back in again, closer to Robin this time.
Dick sucked in a startled breath, he needed to act now, biting his lip and closing his burning eyes, Dick pressed down on the button.
A high-pitched sound suddenly erupted into the air, the noise making the teen clench his teeth in pain, and then with a flash of light that stung Robin's eyes, and a tingly feeling that spread over Dick's whole body he suddenly had the feeling of dropping.
Dick rapidly blinked the spots out of his eyes as he felt wind enveloped his whole body, only to find himself actually free-falling next to a skyscraper.
Robin's breath caught in his throat as he frantically scrambled for something to do.
The teen searched through his two utility belts (he had begun wearing three when the war started, but a few months ago, the aliens had managed to cut one off, leaving Robin with only two)
After a few panicked moments, Dick was able to find a cable attached to a Batarang, turning himself so he was facing upward slightly Robin threw the Batarang at a gargoyle, the cord wrapping around the head of the statue and sending the teenager swinging forward abruptly.
Unfortunately, the momentum was too fast, the cord suddenly pulling taught, causing Robin to cry out as it ripped at his dislocated shoulder and cut side. Before Dick could do anything to rectify himself, he was sent sprawling to another rooftop. The wind knocked from his lungs and his head smacking into the concrete with a wet 'thunk'.
Sharp pain shot through Dick's head before his whole body started to burn with an all-encompassing ache, the teen thought he might have given a wheezed shout of shock and agony at that. But it was hard to tell when the world was already fading into nothing but blackness.
There were hands on him, someone talking above Dick, but he couldn't make out the words. Something pressed against his hurt side and Dick couldn't help the cry of pain that left his lips. The boy tried batting at the person urging them to just go away.
But the person didn't get the message, or, maybe they chose to ignore it as they pressed on Dick's side harder after a moment, making Dick feel like he was going to throw up from the jolt of fiery agony that brought on.
The teen choked on his next breath, his air stuttering out of his chest before he let himself drift away again.
Dick had the far-off feeling of something vibrating under his back. The buzz of an engine humming around him. He tried to blink his eyes open, only managing to crack open his left, his right eye glued shut by something.
His head was pounding, and his body thrummed with a deep ache that Dick didn't understand.
"Hey!" someone said, their voice sounded muffled to Dick's ears. "Yo-'re -ake!" Their words were cutting in and out, did words always do that? Dick didn't think so.
"-need you - sta- a-ke for me kid," they said a moment later.
Dick wanted to comply, he really did, the person sounded concerned, and Dick didn't want to make them worry even more. But his head hurt, and the vibration of what Dick now figured out was a car- was lolling him back to sleep.
He'd just have to apologize to the person later.
When Dick next opened his eyes, it was to the dark ceiling of a cave.
He squinted up at it for a moment, his brain foggy, and his body oddly numb. Had he found a cave to hide in? He didn't remember finding a cave. The last he remembered…hadn't he been running from the Invaders? In a city, somewhere?
Dick turned his head slowly, finding that his body was on something soft, and there was a light rhythmic beeping sound coming from the side. Wait…was he…was he on a bed?!
Dick tried to sit up in his confusion, but something was keeping him pinned down.
"Don't move you're severely injured," someone said from the shadows. Dick gave a start, the action hurting his head. What was going on?
"W'ere m'I?" he slurred at the person, glaring at the spot he thought they might be. It was hard to tell, everything was dark, and Dick didn't think his right eye was actually open. His brain was sluggish and foggy, making the teen's thoughts hard to keep track of, leaving him confused and disoriented.
"Med bay," the person, (man, it was a man, Dick's brain was coherent enough to supply that fact) replied simply.
The boy hummed in acknowledgment, licking at his dried lips while he thought those words over, tasting the tang of blood on his tongue as he did so.
Dick blinked his good eye a few more times, trying to look through the dark, but it was like a thick black blanket, not letting him see anything.
"Can you tell me your name?" the man asked.
Dick's eyebrows scrunched for a moment, making him wince, the man's voice sounded so familiar. Almost like…almost like-
"Dick," he slurred out, his tongue felt too big in his mouth, making it difficult to talk. "We in'a cave?" he asked, Dick's senses were slowly coming back to him, and he could just make out the sound of an overhead bat, the smell of dust and wet rock.
It reminded him of better days, days where he had worn yellow, red, and green, days when those colors had meant something.
"Dick," the man's voice was a bit softer now like he was using less of a growl, "can you tell me what you last remember?" he asked.
Dick wished he could see the other, he would feel better talking to a face and not just to the shadows.
"S'was runnin' from- from Invaders," the boy rasped, feeling his chest hitch slightly at the memory.
Who was this man? And why did he sound so much like…like-
"An' I…" Dick looked back up to the cave ceiling, just barely being able to make out some sharp pointed rocks up there. He was rattling his brain to make sense of what had happened after he had pressed that button, but Dick still couldn't make sense of it.
"I don' know..." he finally settled on. "I was jus' fallin'. An', uh, think I have a con'cussion."
There was the shifting of fabric as if the man had moved closer. "You're right. You're very badly hurt," he said, his voice still soft. Before he moved close enough that Dick could finally see a silhouette. "I need to show you something, Dick."
Dick felt himself tense, his body disliking the action and making him clench his teeth against the pain. But before he could ask what the man was planning on showing him, something was being set down on his lap.
Dick blinked down at the object before it lit up, showing the square outline of a laptop. Dick felt his mouth hang open slightly in shock, he hadn't seen a functioning electronic in months.
"…how-" Dick started.
"Do you remember the hard drive that was hidden in your utility belt?" The man cut him off before he could ask his question.
Dick still couldn't see the man's face, just the fingers of his right hand that was resting on one of the keys on the laptop. "Yes?" he answered, confused, "How do you-" And again, before Dick could voice his question he was interrupted.
But this time, not by the man, but by the laptop.
The screen showed a bit of static for a moment, the sound hurting Dick's ears, but drawing his attention. And then there was the face of the man that Dick missed everyday, the face of a man who had saved him, who had protected him.
It was the face of Bruce.
Dick made a little-choked sound from the back of his throat at the same time Bruce started to speak.
"Dick, if you are watching this, then I assume you used the device I gave you," Bruce on the screen said, "when I gave it to you, I refused to tell you what exactly the device did. But I'm going to tell you now."
Dick could feel his good eye burning, his heart felt like an over-inflated balloon in his chest, expanding and expanding, pressing against his ribcage painfully.
Dick had never thought he would see Bruce again, he still hadn't even been allowed to mourn the man, too busy running for his life to be able to sit down and sob over the death of his second father.
It was a huge injustice, but it was one that Dick had lived with up until this point.
"When I knew there was nothing we could do to save our world," Bruce went on, looking sad and worn, just like Dick knew he must have looked over this past year. "I began building a device that could teleport a single individual to another universe. It took time, months of searching for the right materials. But once I figured out I could use my shard of kryptonite as a power scours it was done."
Dick felt his murky brain begin to understand, and he waited with baited breath for his suspicion to be confirmed, his insides burning with anticipation.
"I had to find an alternate universe that you could safely live in. But I had to be sure that wherever I sent you, your presence wouldn't send the other reality out of balance or spiraling apart."
Dick bit his lip, he knew how alternate realities worked. The Justice League had to deal with them from time to time and Batman had explained them to Robin in great detail.
"I, of course, had a few other Earths in mind, and if I'm right, the alternate reality you are now currently in shouldn't be altered by your presence.
Their world is different enough from our own that you being there shouldn't affect anything other than their timeline. And timelines be damned- if I could go back in time and fix our world before the attack came…I would. But it's too late for me to save our Earth, but it isn't too late for me to save you, Dick."
Dick bit his lip harder, trying to make it stop it's trembling. The teen could feel himself beginning to shake with repressed emotions.
"I don't know whether you will have used the device while we were separated, or if I will have already been gone." Something shifted behind Bruce on the screen, and the man looked back for a slight moment, letting Dick see his own sleeping form in the video.
"But I promise you kiddo, I am glad and relieved that you did use the device. I wouldn't have been able to come with you, either way, I was unable to find an alternate reality that you and I both could live in without the other universe unraveling. And you are my only priority, Dick." Bruce showed a fond smile then, a rarer thing that some people would never see, though it was tainted with sadness.
"I didn't tell you, because I know that you wouldn't have agreed with the plan, and I wasn't going to take the chance of you refusing to use it." Bruce let out a large sigh then, looking at the recording device and then the asleep Dick behind him. "I hope that you will look at this as a second chance Dick. Because if anyone deserves to have a long and full life it's you, kiddo." The asleep Dick was starting to stir, and Dick could tell that Bruce was about to end the video.
"My only request, Dick," Bruce began, "is that you grow into the admirable and courageous man and hero that I have always known you were going to be." Dick's chest hitched with a surprised sob, a hot tear spilling onto his cheek from his good eye.
"You are the bright light to my darkness," Bruce gave a small smile there, it made Dick's chest expand with even more sorrow, "goodbye, my Robin."
And with that, the screen went black.
And Dick felt himself fall apart.
The next time Dick woke up there was enough light to see by.
The teen groaned, trying to turn into a more comfortable position and not being able to. Dick glanced down, seeing that there was a strap over his torso to keep him in place, his breath gave a slight hitch at seeing the restraint, but before he could begin to try freeing himself a voice spoke up.
"Let me get that for you."
Dick's head snapped to the side, finding a man sitting next to him, this one not sounding the same as the man that had been with Dick before.
"It was just to keep you in place while you slept, your shoulder is really messed up," the man informed Dick.
The guy unbuckled the strap and pressed a button to let Dick sit up more fully. Dick watched him for a moment, but he couldn't see too many details of the others face, not with the shadows the bedside lamp was making.
Gnawing at his lip as he thought about everything that had occurred last he was awake, Dick finally asked, "what happened?" his voice soft, but no longer slurred, that was a good sign.
"You, uh, went into shock after…" The man waved an arm around in gesture, "…everything. And well. Bruce decided that maybe the first thing that you wake up to shouldn't be a familiar face." The guy gave a slight smile at that- like he was making a joke, Dick didn't get it.
"How are'ya feelin'?" the dude asked a moment later, and Dick tried once again to see the others face more clearly, but it was hard to do in the dark and with only one eye to see by. Especially when the man was making no effort to come into the light at all.
Dick hummed, "mentally, emotionally, or physically?" he asked back, "because the answer for all of the above would have me sayin' things Alfred would wash my mouth out with soap for."
The man gave a startled laugh, leaning back in the chair and even more out of the light. Dick was starting to think that was intentional. "Ah, so Alfred never changes, no matter what universe."
At that Dick looked down at his lap, two of his fingers were wrapped with white bandages, he wondered if he had broken them, he didn't remember doing anything to them, but Dick didn't remember a lot of things that happened while being hunted by the Invaders.
"Are you guys going to send me back?" Dick asked, not bothering to look away from his hands.
"Well…" the man began, his voice sounded light and conversational, it helped put Dick's mind at ease, but he wasn't entirely sure why.
Maybe it was because chatting instead of delving into a real discussion was easier on the teen's brain. Dick didn't think he could handle having to figure out this whole situation right now.
That would be a problem for tomorrow's Dick.
"Your Bruce made sure to cover all his tracks," the man went on, "so unless you told usexactly what alternate reality you are from, there is very little chance we would find it," a pause, "at least not for a while."
At those words, Dick looked up at the man, feeling a slight bit of panic tugging in his chest.
"But," the guy began, "I doubt that Bruce would even consider it. And if he did, I along with a few others would all kick his butt, so, you're good."
Dick was the one surprised into a laugh this time, feeling his ribs give a jolt with it. He didn't think he had ever heard anyone say they would willingly try to kick Bruce's butt for his sake.
"And who are you to Bruce?" the teenager asked the man.
There were bigger questions, ones about where Dick would go; if he would stay in Gotham or be sent off; there were questions about this world, and how different it was from his own, but those bigger questions could wait for right now.
"Uh," the man made an unsure sound, "I'm his…I'm his son," he finally said.
Dick took in a breath through his nose, squeezing his hurt fingers into a fist to ground himself with a slight bit of pain. "Oh?" he tried to keep his tone light, wasn't sure if he succeeded.
"His… his real son?" Dick asked, it was weird how unsettled the thought of Bruce having real children made Dick feel, but that was a stupid thing to feel when they weren't even talking about his Bruce.
"Uh, no I'm adopted," the stranger said, shifting like this subject made him feel just as uncomfortable as it made Dick. "Bruce ended up adopting a few kids actually," he went on, sounding almost fond as he said the last part.
"Did he…" Dick began but had to stop himself, swallowing down some of the emotions that were clogging his throat. He tried again, "did he ever adopt a Dick Grayson?" he couldn't help but ask, he wasn't even sure what answer he was hoping for.
There probably wasn't a right answer to that question really.
On this world, maybe the Flying Grayson's had never died. Maybe that's why Dick could be here with this Bruce without it making a difference. Because this world's Dick was still with his parents at the circus.
Then there was also the possibility that his parents had still died, but that Bruce Wayne had never adopted this world's Dick. (That thought made Dick feel a little sick)
There was also the chance that this world's Dick had died. Maybe on the job as Robin or maybe even back at the circus with his mom and dad.
And then, of course, there was the option that this Bruce Wayne had adopted this world's Dick Grayson, just like Bruce had done for Dick back on his own world.
And well, there were many, many, different possibilities and realities that Dick probably couldn't even begin to imagine. And honestly, he wasn't sure what he wanted to hear from this man.
There was a moment's pause from the guy at the question. Only the beeping of Dick's heart monitor in the background and the flutter of the all familiar bats. (Dick hadn't even thought about the fact that he was in the Batcave, it made his stomach knot up with grief)
"…Yes," the man finally said, "yes he did."
Dick nodded, worrying on his lip as he bunched some of the sheets in his hands. That… that was good. Dick was glad that this world's Dick had also gotten all the chances he had had.
However, that meant there was already a Dick here, and apparently other kids as well. Which meant they couldn't or wouldn't take Dick in, because…because they already had a Dick. They didn't need another, he would just be an intruder to their family.
"Oh," he choked out, there was nothing for him to say.
"He was the first kid Bruce took in actually," the man said after a moment, his tone was a bit gentler now as if he knew what Dick was thinking. "So, that had to be…wow, fifteen years ago." He clicked his tongue at that, wiggling in his seat again as if just realizing the fact.
"Fifteen years ago?" Dick wondered aloud. "So…so your guy's Dick…he grew up," he said, almost to himself.
So, the other Dick Grayson, he wasn't a kid like Dick was, he was an adult, all grown up.
"Hey kid," the man whispered, Dick looked over to him, his mind swirling around with so much shock and confusion he didn't even know what to do with himself. Dick hadn't considered the chance that this world's timeline was different from his own.
"Everything's going to be okay," the stranger said, his words filled with sincerity as he leaned a little closer in his chair.
Dick looked back up to the ceiling as he made a choked noise of disagreement, "yeah?" he asked, his throat filled with emotion, and darn it- he didn't want to cry, he didn't!"Me just being here already threw off your guy's timeline, Bruce isn't gonna want me around."
The man was silent for a moment, and Dick thought he had trumped him, that the man couldn't deny his words and so he wasn't going to even bother answering.
But then he said, "I doubt that our Bruce is very different from yours. So tell me, Dick, does that sound like something Bruce would do?"
Dick continued to stare up at the ceiling, his whole body felt off, or maybe that was just his mind.
"…I…no?" He wasn't sure. It depended, Batman sometimes did things that people disagreed with, he did whatever it took to make sure things worked out for the greater good. But when the cowl was off, when you were talking about his personal life, the man under the mask could surprise you.
"Well, maybe you'll just have to talk to Bruce," the stranger said.
Dick really wanted to know his name, they had been talking for a while now, and whoever this guy was seemed to think he knew Bruce really well.
"But for right now, are you hungry, kiddo?"
Dick gave a wan smiled, glancing away from the ceiling and over to the man sitting across from him. "I haven't had Alfred's cooking in over a year, of course I'm hungry."
It felt nice to talk to another person, to just have a conversation and know that someone was listening, that someone was hearing him. Dick hadn't talked to another human in weeks, and the loneliness had started to gnaw at him, had begun to pick at his mind.
The man stood, smacking his palms to his thighs as he began to walk out of the room. "Well then you have a lot of time to make up for," he said, the smile evident in his tone, "I'll go grab Al," he stated before he walked out of the room.
Dick's head still felt fuzzy, if that was from the drugs he was surely on or his concussion than he didn't know. But it was making him feel tired and drained.
The teen closed his left eye before bringing up his hand and gently probing at his right. A small hiss passed the boy's lips as he felt the puffy flesh there.
Awe, so it was swollen shut then.
That made sense.
The teen let his hand fall back on the bed a moment later, breathing out a large sigh as he reopened his eye. It was still too dark to see any detail, but now that Dick knew what to look for he could clearly tell that he was in the Batcave's medical section.
A small huff of disbelief left Dick as he rolled his head to the side so he could glance over at his vitals. A lot of what was there didn't make sense to Dick, but he could see that his blood levels were low, so were his oxygen and BMP leaves.
Which made sense, he had lost a lot of blood and Dick hadn't eaten in, well…he couldn't remember.
But that should speak for itself.
There was also an IV in his arm and a Band-Aid on his opposite elbow (which had a Superman symbol on it, to the teen's amusement) letting Dick know that something else had been administered into that arm, probably a transfusion.
Dick refrained from picking at the Band-Aid. Instead, running his fingers over the white sheets and then the soft fabric of the dark blue blanket that was draped over him.
"Hello, young sir."
Dick's head whipped up as he heard the all too familiar voice. He hadn't even noticed Alfred until the man spoke up.
"Alfred," he choked, his voice not sounding like his own, it was too needy, too childish.
"Master Dick," Alfred greeted again, walking up with a silver tray and setting it down by the lamp before he pulled a chair up and sat down next to Dick's bedside. "How are you doing my dear boy?"
Dick leaned forward, reaching out with his good arm. He knew that this wasn't his Alfred, knew that this man didn't remember him, didn't know him. (Well…not the him him) But that didn't matter, because it was still Alfred, and Dick hadn't seen Alfred since his Gotham had been decimated.
"I missed you," he told the man, his voice dripping with grief.
And Alfred, bless the old man, didn't comment on the fact that it was not him, that Dick missed, he just simply took Dick's outstretched hand in his own and patted the boy on the back with his other white-gloved hand.
Responding, "and I you, Master Dick."
At the Butler's words Dick made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, his shoulders shaking as he sniffed.
This was ridiculous,
Dick was being ridiculous.
This was not his Alfred, it wasn't; but it felt like it was his Alfred, his grandfather figure. The way the man spoke to him, or how he smelt of lemon wood-finisher. It was all so deeply reminiscent of the Butler that Dick's head was spinning.
"I am glad to see you awake, we've been worried," Alfred told him.
This Alfred was older, it was apparent, the worry lines by his mouth deeper, and the crow's-feet by his eyes more pronounced, it made Dick wonder what year it was here, if this was years in the future or if in this universe everyone was simply born in a different year.
Dick forced himself to sit upright and take his hand back. "How long have I been here?" Dick asked, opting yet again to ask one of the simpler questions rather than delving into anything too large or stressful.
"Master Timothy found you fifty-three hours ago." Alfred told him, "you were in a dreadful state. I almost called Ms. Thompkins, but Master Bruce thought it best that we keep your presence to ourselves until we knew the exact circumstances."
Dick nodded, biting at his lip as he thought that statement over; because honestly there were many things the teen could analyze from what Alfred had just told him, but what Dick settled on was- "so is Timothy one of Bruce's kids?"
Alfred hummed, nodding as he began grabbing something off of the tray sitting next to him. "Yes, though Master Tim does not reside at the manor currently," he informed, before he asked, "I assume that chocolate chip is still your favorite Master Dick?"
Dick blinked at the man, "Uh, yes," he mumbled absently, "Alfred, how many kids does Bruce have?"
Alfred grabbed the lid off of the plate of cookies, the smell made Dick's mouth water, his head buzzing with the mere sweetness in the air.
"Master Bruce has taken many children under his wing over the years," Alfred stated as he let Dick grab a cookie from the pile. "He has adopted three young men as well as a young woman, and another son biologically."
Dick hummed as he bit into the cookie, letting his eye fall closed as the warm chocolate chips melted over his tongue. "Will you tell me about them?" the teen asked after he swallowed his bite.
Alfred gave a slight smile, grabbing a glass of milk and handing it to Dick. "For each bite you take, I will tell you of one of Master Bruce's children," he stated simply.
Dick chuckled, sipping at the milk, and feeling that ball in his chest unravels ever so slightly. "You gotta deal Alfie."
When Dick's stomach started to protest the sugar from the cookies and his one eye began to close of its own accord, Alfred had smoothed down the teen's unruly hair and told him that he needed his rest.
Dick had wanted to hear more about this world's Robins.
Because there were multiple here, and they all sounded so different from one another and yet they all worked well with Batman.
It had boggled Dick's mind at first, hearing that on this world he (the other Dick) wasn't Robin anymore, he hadn't been for years, and four other people have taken up the mantle of Robin in his place.
Dick had had to ignore that irritating knife of grief that had stabbed his chest at hearing the news. It was hard to picture other people wearing his colors, using hisname.
Dick had to remind himself, that in this world, they didn't belong to him anymore. And therefore, it wasn't his place to grieve the loss of them.
Dick had relented to going back to sleep, with the promise that Alfred would have some of his world-famous chicken noodle soup (it wasn't world-famous, but Dick thought it should be) ready for him, and that the two of them could chat over some tea.
Dick had felt a bubble of warmth at that idea and let the man retreat back upstairs after that.
And with all the drugs and new information floating around in Dick's head, it hadn't taken long for the teenager to fall asleep.
Waking up wasn't hard.
It was opening his eye that was difficult.
Because Dick knew what he would see- no, not 'what', who, he knew who he would see- when he opened up his eyes.
He could feel the man's presence, it didn't matter where Dick was, or what universe he might be in, Bruce's presence would always feel the same to the teenager.
It would always feel heavy and thick, but in a good way, it was a pillar for Dick to lean on, a strong thing for him to latch onto.
Dick hadn't felt that since his Bruce had died. The teen had thought (rightly so) that it had been lost to him, that he would no longer have that unrelenting presence to clutch onto.
But the moment he came to, he knew that Bruce was sitting next to him. Waiting for Dick to wake up, so they could talk, so they could re-meet.
It wasn't a weird thing for Dick to wake up and see Bruce at his side. It was something the man always did when the boy got hurt or if he was horribly sick.
It was a comfort for Dick, especially as a kid, to know that when he woke up, Bruce would be there, because Bruce was always there, that was his job, and Bruce took every job seriously.
And that thought shouldn't have made Dick's throat clog with some sort of emotion he could only associate with grief. But the fact was, Dick had told himself that these kinds of things would never happen for him again.
He had forced himself to get over the circumstance and move on.
And now, to rouse with Bruce right next to him. Silently doing his vigil, waiting for Dick to wake back up. It was just such a Bruce thing to do, it made the teen's chest hurt. It was a confusing thing, to be so sad and yet so happy to have this second chance of sorts.
Even if it wasn't with his Bruce.
Dick held his breath as he opened his eye, willing himself to be calm as he slowly turned his head to the side to face the man, and there he was, sitting in the same chair that Alfred had occupied a few hours ago, Bruce.
It was so very clearly Bruce; the way he was slightly hunched forward with his hands clasped in his lap, how his hair was jelled up to look crisp, how even his black t-shirt and jeans still looked pristine even though they had every right not to be.
He was older than Dick's Bruce. Not in a way where he was unrecognizable, or that made him look too different. But it was apparent, not that Dick hadn't expected it, when the teen had seen Alfred he knew that this timeline was different from his own. And he had prepared himself for how Bruce might look, how he might've changed.
Bruce didn't say anything. He was just patiently letting Dick scan him over, giving the teen enough time to process. Which again, was such a Bruce thing to do, to let Dick make the first move, to let him direct how this might go. It gave the fourteen-year-old a sense of control and safety that he hadn't realized he was missing.
So, releasing the breath that he had still been holding, Dick gave the best smile he could manage, (which was probably really lacking and watery, not to mention his puffy and swollen face, but it would do) before he said in a quiet voice, "hi Bruce."
"Hi Dick," Bruce greeted back, his voice just a tad deeper than it should be. He leaned forward, looking slightly hesitant as he placed his hand on top of Dick's.
Dick blinked some of the extra moisture out of his good eye as he turned his hand over so that it was palm facing up. Bruce's hand was warm and callused, the man's far bigger than Dick's, his fingers long, and a few of his knuckles split, just like Dick remembered.
The teenager couldn't help but study the skin there, the many scars that lay etched into Bruce's flesh, some pink and fresh, others almost dulled out of existence. Some not belonging there, other's the same. Dick ran the tip of his pointer finger over a long scar that went up the length of Bruce's palm.
Dick's head was in a continual loop of doubt, excitement, and shock,
This is real,
He's real,
Bruce's real,
Real,
Real,
Real!
The teen's mind was trying to make sense of everything that was going on. His brain going haywire with disbelief and something akin to relief, the two emotions filling Dick's body to the brim and making him want to release the feelings in some way; maybe he should laugh, maybe he should cry, but Dick didn't think he had the energy for either, so he just continued to play with Bruce's fingers.
And Bruce let him.
Maybe he knew that Dick needed something solid something real to hold onto right now, maybe he knew that Dick was using Bruce to ground himself, maybe he knew that Dick just needed to grasp to him for a while to let it sink in.
Or maybe, maybe Bruce needed to hold Dick's hand as much and Dick needed to hold his.
They sat like that for a while, just letting each other's presence sink in. Neither said anything, usually, Dick hated the silence, he thought it best to fill it with something, most the time his own chatter. But right now, the silence didn't feel stifling or intense, it felt safe, it felt like a gift.
But once Dick had traced over the majority of Bruce's scarred hand, and his breathing evened back out to something less emotional, it was time for the silence to break. And Bruce being Bruce didn't dottle over small talk or ease his way into the conversation, he delved in, cut right to the chase.
Because that was how Bruce worked.
Because in Bruce's mind it was illogical not to immediately fix what was in need of fixing.
"I'm sure that you're wondering what will happen with you," Bruce stated, it was never a question, always a statement phrased like a question.
Dick willed his eyes away from their hands, forced himself to loosen his grip on Bruce's thumb so the man could pull away, but Bruce didn't, the man just ran one of his fingers over Dick's knuckles in a soothing motion, one that Dick had not expected, but appreciated greatly.
"I…" Dick felt that knot in his chest tighten, he didn't want to talk about this right now, didn't need to hear that this Bruce didn't want him, didn't need him.
He wanted to stay in this little content pocket of time the two of them have constructed, where he and Bruce could just be.
"Yes… I- yes I do," Dick finally stuttered out, biting at his lip as he studied Bruce's expression.
Bruce was unreadable to most people, he made it his job to be. But just because the man himself was unreadable, didn't mean he couldn't read people.
And Dick despite himself, had always been an open book to Bruce.
Maybe that was because Dick didn't want to keep secrets from Bruce, maybe that was because Dick trusted Bruce fully, maybe that was because Dick felt if he was open with Bruce, then Bruce would be open with him.
Bruce's expression shifted, his dark blue eyes softening just a touch, and then he pulled his hand away.
Dick had to fight down the urge to snatch it back, because Dick knew what was happening, Bruce was distancing himself before he gave the bad news, before he told Dick that he would be sent to live away from Gotham, away from Bruce's new family, away from the Manor, away from Alfred, away from Bruce.
But before the cold abyss of loss and grief could swallow Dick whole, Bruce leaned up and gently cupped the back of Dick's head with his large hand, pulling Dick forward until their foreheads touched.
Dick gasped in a small breath, blinking his blue eye at Bruce in surprise.
"You are not being sent off," Bruce said, his voice low and hushed, only for Dick's ears to hear. "I would never send you away Dick," he whispered, his deep blue eyes the only thing that Dick could see in this close proximity.
"But you already have a Dick, you already raised him," Dick began to protest weakly, his voice watery and strained.
"I would raise you again and again, over and over, and I would do it happily," Bruce interrupted, his voice still soft, but indisputable.
Dick shook his head slightly, random insecurities and anxieties bubbling up, that the teenager hadn't even realized he was holding until now. "But- but what if I'm not…what if I'm not like him, what if-"
Bruce moved his hand down and out of Dick's hair to grip the back of the boy's neck, his fingers squeezing the nape as he stared at Dick unblinking with deep blue eyes that Dick knew so well, that he had seen a million times before.
That apparently, did not change even when in a different universe.
"You don't need to be anything that you aren't," Bruce told Dick, "I will take you as you are," he made it sound like a promise like a vow. Bruce clasped the teen's neck a little harder, trying to show that he meant what he said, that the declaration wasn't hollow, that he believed his own words as a certainty.
"I am not your Bruce, and you are not my Dick," Bruce went on.
Dick closed his burning eyes, biting at his trembling bottom lip to keep his emotions at bay.
"But no one is asking us to be," Bruce whispered, "so, what do you say kiddo, you wanna give this a try?"
Dick made a choked sound, his throat working to unclog itself of his many, many, raging emotions.
The teenager blinked open his eye, looking directly into the blue set in front of him before he nodded, bringing up his unhurt arm and clutching at Bruce's black t-shirt, fisting the fabric in a desperate way, his fingers shaking.
"Okay Bruce, okay."
So weird AU. (I had a dream this happened, and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here's this fic I guess)
Now that Dick is here we'll be able to get into the hurt/comfort aspect of things as well as some of his trauma. Which should be interesting.
But until then, stay whelmed my friends.
~Fernandidilly-yo out!