A/N) I have crap ton of homework and actual real job stuff to do - not to mention like three stories I should update . . . meh - here's something I was thinking of a while ago.
It's sort of like a part two of the one shot - Follow Ups - where Bab's finds and meets Jason Todd for the first time.
Only this is Dicks end of that Story.
You don't have to read it - just adds perspective to this shot if you do.
Also - I might be persuaded to write part two for this, like Dick actually meeting Jason.
Motivation is your Superpower after all!
Dick has no right to complain. He knows this. He knows he doesn't. Being a cop was what he wanted after all. What he argued and yelled and whined about with Bruce until he finally up and left and now he is a cop - so he has no right, not if he wants to lose any semblance of pride he has left, to complain about the circumstances right now.
But oh - how he wishes he could.
He hasn't slept in three days, which all things considered - wasn't even the bad part. The bad part was the no sleep plus no food plus no leads plus a bleeding head plus an empty gun plus the bad guys which he hadn't meant to get mixed up in that were surrounding him right now.
Damn Bludhaven and it's colorful locals.
Dick's ready to puke. He really should have hydrated a while ago. But this case had made him forget and - well - maybe that was a tiny, itty, colossal lie. He'd submerged himself unhealthily in this trafficking case because of another problem.
A problem that blurs yellow, red, and green and deserves to be thrown off a bridge - or at least punched in the face.
Someone gets a good blow in.
Oooow - Dick sees spots and then blurry red anger builds up - the kind that's sudden and uncontrolled because he was just too damn tired for this shit. Both emotionally and physically.
"Screw you." He hisses and grabs a pipe and swings. He gets a good crack in - someone goes down screaming, he swings again, flips under a chain and breaks a guys leg before promptly kicking him in the face. The ring closes in tighter, Dick's eyes narrow - things are still blurry but . . . he's learned long ago how to cope without his eyes.
He flips over, pure muscle memory, and grabs a guys arm and deftly swings him around like a bat, throwing him into several others. Screw you all. He seethes and drops kicks someone else, back punches, flips, spins in the air and lands blow after blow after blow and by the time the screams of pain have died down to agonized whimpers or unconsciousness he's not fighting thugs anymore.
Dick stands in the ring of fallen thugs and throws the pipe down, it bounces of the concert with a sharp clatter and he's ready to throw up again.
Damn it - he knew this would happen.
If he became physically unstable enough his already cracking emotions would come out and - Dick swallows hard, shoves his empty gun back in his holster and almost walks in a straight line out of the ally.
Cops will find them later. He'll just drop a tip. Amy was gonna throw a fit though. He can't even find it in himself to be amused right now though. He sighs loud into the crackling dark. Bludhaven was ugly - but . . . again, he wanted this.
So he's not allowed to complain.
Seems like his mornings were always ruined these days. And it was always because of some newsletter online popping up in his face or a quick cover story on tv when he was eating cereal.
What the hell did Bludhaven reporters have to report on shit that happens in Gotham?
That was what their news was always on. Not Nightwing here in Bludhaven, but Robin and Batman - back in Gotham. The place he left. They were brining it to him, slapping his face with the figurative paper every time they broadcasted a story about them.
Which is why he's at home in his loft punching a bag, his anger seeping out of him in the form of sweat. He may or may not be imagining someone's face on that bag.
Who cares anyway. He doesn't. He's the one who chose to leave, it was his choice to become a cop - Bruce hadn't agreed with either choice. Maybe this was his way of paying Dick back, of rubbing it in his face - Hah - I got a new one, you aren't that important.
Dick punches so hard his fingernails bite almost through the wrappings on his palm.
He doesn't care. Bruce can be petty if he wants. So what if he replaced him? So what if Bruce got himself a new kid? So what if he gave this new punk kid Robin without Dick's permission? Dick sneers at the punching bag - Bruce was being a douche, that was his thing. So what if Dick didn't find out about Robin from Bruce personally? - he found out because of a blog post. So what if Bruce just wanted to punch him in the face without actually punching him?
Who. The hell. Cares!
Dick lets out a string of curses and kicks the bag clear off its chain. It lands on the ground with a resounding bang and he stands there. Eyes burning, ire rising, anger boiling and filling his veins. His entire body was hot and sticky and furious.
Who cares.
The new kid had been Robin for months - Dick had no idea for most of those months.
He'd found out - it had been a good day too. He'd had a nice productive day. Just wrapped up a candy smuggling ring, there was cocaine in the lollipop sticks and marijuana in the gum - he'd just wrapped up that wacky case, the candy smugglers turned out to be more dangerous than he expected, almost got shot in the head too . . . but they did it.
Dick remembers how good it felt, everyone at the station was having a celebratory moment, coffee, doughnuts, and congrats on wrapping up this retarded case.
Then an officer - who's name Dick forgets - comes running in, phone waving in his grip as he flails around like a frantic five year old. "Guys! Check this out! Robin's back in Gotham!"
In that moment the coffee cup he was holding slipped out of his fingers and splashed on the ground. His entire body had gone numb and the once bright noise dulled into a warble.
He doesn't remember what his face looked like but it must have been bad - because Amy had noticed and prodded him in confusion.
"Hey Grayson? You alright? You look like you just saw the Joker?" She talked to him - her voice came through sounding like she was underwater.
Dick remembers - the disbelief. The denial. The inevitable realization . . .
Robin was in Gotham . . . but he wasn't.
Dick wasn't - he wasn't Robin anymore, so how the hell was Robin in Gotham?
He couldn't deny it forever. At first he'd hoped it was a prank - but no . . . he found out real quick how real it was, stupid news blogs - Robin was real. Robin was in Gotham. Robin was working with Batman -
And that Robin wasn't him.
Dick feels the faint feeling of being stabbed in the gut again as he rolls the bag upright. When he'd realized what Bruce had done - he'd still wanted to deny it but . . .but he couldn't.
So he settled for avoiding anything and everything to do with Gotham.
He ignored anyone over there - Babs had called him so many times . . . thing was, Dick's sure she's calling to tell him about the very thing he's not answering her calls for.
Alfred calls too - not as much . . . Dick ignores those as well.
Bruce never once calls.
Dick's not sure if he would ignore that call though. But Bruce doesn't call.
At some point, Dick half expects somebody to tell the new kid to call.
Dick kind of wants it to happen, weirdly.
Like, he wants to confront this but - but without going out of his way to do it. Like, if he somehow runs into Robin than - fine, whatever . . . but he wasn't going to put himself out there so that would happen, but at the same time he wants to get it over with and -
Dick slips into his shower and lets the water hit his face. He just wants to stop with this shit.
But he hurts - as much as he doesn't want to admit it to anyone, least of all himself, he hurts.
To his furious horrors his eyes blur with the water from above. Bruce had been the closest thing to a father figure to him for so long - Batman and Robin . . . that had been their thing. That had been the reason Dick wasn't a broken mess or dead right now. Robin had been a hope beam, for both Batman and Dick Grayson. And now - now Bruce just up and gave Robin to this - this punk that Dicks pretty sure doesn't deserve it and -
His phone rings.
He lets out a sigh and turns off the shower, slips a towel around himself and pushes back his dripping hair. With any luck it's Amy with case results. Some idiot was killing prostitutes after he used them - it seems like a serial killer case but . . . the guy was being way too obvious.
He flicks his thumb over the screen.
Barbara.
Shit.
He doesn't want to answer her. He won't. He hasn't answered her calls for six months. Since he found out about Robin.
You're just running away. Dick seethes at the taunt in his head. I'm not running from anything.
You ran away from Bruce - from Barbara - from Robin . . . and now that someone else has Robin - you're still running.
He let out a breath, thumb quivering in indecisiveness.
No.
No I don't need this.
He puts the phone down and heads off to get dressed. He has actual work to do and he doesn't have time for this cape crusaders mess.
"On your left Grayson!" Amy shouts through her com, in hot pursuit of their suspect, her gun at the ready as she pumps after the seedy dude in a ratty hoodie.
Dick snickers from his end, "I see 'im." He does. Granted it isn't from the standard steak out point, he'd crawled up a back ally fire escape and now he had perfect visual of the running scum. "About to intercept. Take a breather."
"Damn you." She snaps, voice cracking through the com.
Dick snorts and casually flips down with all the grace of an acrobat and deftly lands on top of the guy. They guy goes down with a scream as Dick puts his knee in his back and twists an arm around. "Going somewhere? I believe - " Amy come's running up as Dick grins at her puffy red face. "I believe the lady asked you a question."
"I ain't got nothin to say to a ya jack-ass." The guy spits hoarsely.
Amy rolls her eyes as Dick let's out a dramatic sigh. "Why can't they just do things the easy way?" He says dramatically.
His partner snorts and grabs the pimp, roughly handcuffing him. "Same reason they're in this crap in the first place. Because they're idiots."
"Hey!" They guy has the audacity to snap.
Amy gives the cuffs a hard twist for good measure and hauls him off. "Let's go bub, I've got a time out box with your name on it."
Dick grins as she drags the guy away without so much as a word. See, this he was good at. Screw Bruce and his ' you can't be a cop, it's dangerous' shit thing he tried. Today hadn't been so bad. They got a suspect and a lead and it was almost time for him to clock out and maybe he can get some extra Z's tonight. One can only hope. Nightwing was laying low for now - besides, Dick likes giving solved cases to his Grayson name.
His phone rings.
Dick startles and hopes Amy hasn't lost the slippery creep -
Barbara.
Twice in one day? Dick glares at the buzzing screen. Babs hasn't called more than once in a day since - forever ago. She'd called none stop at first. Than she'd stopped and now - now she's started again? Why . . . his curiosity was starting to cloud his plan. No - wait. No . . . it can't be anything important. It's probably still about that whole . . . Dick shoves the phone in his pocket. If she really needed him she'd have contacted him Bat style. Not like this. He ignores the buzzing until it stops. But the damage is done - his stupid brain wanders back to Gotham and the new Robin . . .
He curses under his breath and heads home. Now he has to go either punch a bag or eat something with a mountain of sugar on it.
Both sound good.
It wasn't fair. He'd been asleep - so asleep - it was rare to be this asleep.
Plus it was like three in the morning and he didn't open his eyes. But his phone rang, in the back of his mind he thought it was a call from the station, an emergency for him. He was exhausted - he hasn't fallen asleep like this in years - he answers the phone in the dark, eyes still closed.
"'llo?" He mumbles, mouth barely moving, voice heavy and throat dry.
The other line is silent for a weird disorienting moment.
"Dick?"
It's like someone dumped ice water from the north pole over his head. His entire body snaps awake, nerves sizzle because of the sudden shock his brain emits and his stomach twists so hard he almost keels over.
"Babs?" He - He should really hang up . He doesn't want to have this conversation, please, please, please don't make me have this conversation.
She lets out a shaky breath and then - Dick's heart cracks when she gives him a watery laugh. "Bastard." She mutters, he knows she's at home, probably curled up in her bed in those fuzzy yellow PJ pants and a tank top and - and he sees her so vividly his eyes hurt.
"I know." He answers. His brain has given up. He's given up. He - he just gives up. "I know."
"I bet you do." She's holding back a sniff. "I'm not even going to grace you with the reasons out loud."
"Yah." He's spinning, his heart's in his throat, his throat is clogged, his head hurts. "You ok?"
A harsher laugh. "Ok? Yah - yah I'm actually . . .really great. You know, considering you just up and left and somehow I ended up being the shunned piece in this chess game between you and Bruce."
That stung almost as much as if she'd actually punched his face.
"Screw this." She huffs, he hears the bed creak as she moves. "I didn't call for this. I never call for this." She sounds so far away, he has the unbelievable urge to crawl through the phone and just kiss her senseless. God - he misses her . . . so freakin' much. But his pride and his anger and his - stupidity won't let him say so.
She deserves better anyway.
"I know." He knows this isn't why she calls. "I have to go." He wants to hang up.
"Stop running Grayson."
He freezes. No sounds. Just the soft breathing on her end and a few sirens outside. Dick can hear his heart though, and it's loud and angry.
"Stop running. Come back. Meet the kid - he's - " Her throat clicks into the receiver, his does too. "He's a good kid, Dick - he is. A brat, but . . . but he - "
Dick's shoulders lift, his hand tightens around the device against his ear. He knows what she's going to say - he knows because she knows he needs to hear it and she knows he knows she's going to say it - but he doesn't want her too -
"He deserves to be Robin."
Dick swears he almost screams. He squeezes his eyes shut as the tidal wave of anger and regret and misery pound against his shore of sanity.
Silence again. Just him and his screaming thoughts. He knows this is what he was horrified of hearing. As petty and pathetic as it seems - he was always terrified that this new Robin - actually deserved it.
And Babs just brought the whole effing mountain down.
Three in the morning.
"He's different though. Definitely different. Not you in the slightest." She finally says after the silence drags on like a zombie through quick sand. "He has issues, like major ones, big chips on both shoulders - he doesn't have his parents though. I don't think he ever did. But he cares - deep down, he cares. Robin . . . Robin saved him I think."
Dick is ready to cry for an entirely different reason. Robin saved him? Hah - that was . . . so consistent. Robin saved Batman and Dick Grayson - now Robin saved this kid too.
"He needs a little work, rough around the edges you know? But - but I think you should meet him. Just . . . I was pissed too, for so long. I found out from a newspaper." She sounds appalled, her emotions less constricted, she was melting back into comfortably talking to him again. That was their thing. It would be tense and awkward for a while but then - they can't help melting back into their bond again.
"Yah - I know the feeling." He says dryly, stomach still tense enough to make him want to puke all over his bed. "Bruce sure is a piece of work." Maybe he could - just let this go a bit . . . maybe.
"That's an understatement. At least you're in Bludhaven. I live and work here as a citizen and Batgirl. Can you believe he avoided Batgirl? I met the kid by accident, he answered the front door for Alfred once." She laughs wryly. "By that point I'd tried to get to the kid every possible way and - and he just opened the freakin' front door. It was hilarious."
Dick snorts, god he misses her. "Did you punch Bruce at least."
"No."
Dick's a bit disappointed.
"I casually defaced his Batmobile radio. He's never going to get that 'if you're happy and you know it' song out of his head." She sounds pretty devious and pleased.
Dick slowly forgets why the hell he doesn't answer her calls. "I bet he was pissed."
"Royally. Especially since Jason thought it was the coolest thing ev - " She stops.
He suddenly remembers, with a guilty whoosh of air, why he doesn't answer he calls.
The silence goes for comfortable in the dark to tense in the dark again.
After a lung tightening moment, "Jason huh?"
He can hear her suck in breath. "Yah. Jason."
Damn it. Now the kid has a name. All this time - all this time Dick had been subconsciously avoiding giving the kid a face or a name . . . like somehow it made it easier to deal with the fact that there was another Robin if he wasn't humanized. Dick could get away with blotting out the human aspect of the kid and just see an empty suit walking instead of an actual kid and now - now he has a name.
Shit.
"Meet him Dick. If for nothing else, just because I know for a fact, that it will piss Bruce off - especially if you guys get along. Which I'm pretty sure you could in a weird way." She's trying to give him reasons.
Dick doesn't want them. He's empty inside again. "Night Babs." He mutters tiredly. He's drained, he's done, he's exhausted.
She's quiet for a second, he's about to hang up.
"I miss you." It's small but solid, her words.
Dick's heart squeezes with his eyes. "I - miss you too."
She hangs up.
Dick can't go back to sleep no matter how tired and droopy his very soul is. The kid has a name now. He deserves to be Robin. Robin saved him - from what? Dick finds himself wondering . . . Who was this kid anyway? Where'd Bruce find him? What did this kid have that made Bruce give him Robin? What - what was going on with Robin now? . . . Chip on his shoulders? Dick had - still has a few . . . but the way Babs said it - rough around the edges? What was Bruce doing with that?
Maybe - maybe he should let go . . . his exhaustion seems to tell him he already has, but his mind is being stubborn.
Maybe - maybe he should meet the kid . . .just - just to see if he really deserves Robin.
Just to see for himself.
Just to see. . . .
A/N) Anyone remember that time and age where Dickie bird was an ass to Jay-jay because Bruce gave him Robin without permission? Sort of how Jason went all homicidal on Tim when Bruce gave Robin to Tim without permission - and how Tim went all broody and dark angst when Dick gave Robin to Damian without permission - I am seeing a very sad pattern here.
Anyway, short version, Dick wasn't cool with Jason, not an out right jerk - just cold to the kid. They did bond a bit because it's Dick we're talking about - why do Robin's who don't like each other in the beginning bond later? Like Jason and Tim - and Tim and Damian - again . . .pattern.
So, yah - Dick didn't realize how much he actually liked the kid until AFTER Joker blew him up . . . yeeeeah . . .
Hope you liked this!