There's a heavy silence when Dick returns from Mt. Justice. He's not quite sure what to say, the feel of Batman's presence being more oppressive than comforting. He needs time to think, and right now he doesn't want his brothers crowding him.
As soon as the Batmobile roars to a stop in the Batcave, Dick spots Tim by the monitors. It's late, around four in the morning, and Dick knows Tim hasn't slept at all. He should say something, tell his older brother to go to bed, persuade him, nag him, but he can't find it in him to do so. Dick knows how he looks, gaze blank, shoulders hunched, and his cape wrapped around him protectively.
Tim doesn't turn around from his chair, still clicking away. Bruce clears his throat in greeting. "Oh, hey, Bruce. Hi, Dick."
Dick jumps out of the batmobile and makes for the stairs. In the oppressive silence, his footsteps sound like hammers. His cape swishes behind him as he tries to escape his father's stare and the heavy silence. He reaches the first step.
"Dick?" Tim's turned all the way around now, Dick can hear the swiveling of his chair. There's a touch of concern in his voice. Dick's at the top step now, and he manages to leave the cave just as Tim starts to call him again.
Alfred's waiting for him as soon as he exits the Batcave. Of course it was Alfred; the butler missed nothing. Bruce may have been Batman, but Alfred was the real greatest detective. Dick squares his shoulders, waiting for the butler to speak.
Alfred raises an eyebrow at his appearance. His cape is a little ripped, his arms are red from where the straps were holding him down. His hair is messy and half his mask is gone. Dick waits for the butler to call him out on his appearance, but to his surprise, Alfred didn't say anything, wordlessly holding his hands out. Dick drops his utility belt, mask, cape, and uniform into his hands before traipsing down the hall. He feels cold and vulnerable without the cape on his back and no mask to hide his expression.
Jason is in the living room when Dick passes. Normally, Dick would have gone in to sit with his brother and talk for a while, but today he walks by. He knows Jason hears him when the vigilante's head snaps up. A grin lights up on his brother's face. "Hey, Dickie! You're home!"
Dick barely acknowledges the greeting and takes the stairs two steps at a time. He's not avoiding them, he tells himself. He's just… tired. He wants to sleep and forget what happened today, forget the war he just came out of. He's thirteen, and his world has shattered. He doesn't have the strength to pick up the pieces.
"Dick?" Jason's voice traveled up the stairs and Dick finds himself racing up the stairs to avoid being seen. He turns the corner, onto the top floor, and heads for his room. He can vaguely hear Jason questioning Alfred about his wellbeing. He doesn't hear Alfred's reply.
The marble floor under his feet is cold and unforgiving. The paintings on the wall, usually humorous in how rigid and stiff they are, seem to be glaring at him. The marble bust in the corner leers at him, taunting him.
Dick tries not to remember the heat of the explosion, or the terrifying calm he felt as the timer counts down to zero. When Artemis' body vaporized, when he forced Wally out of the room to save him, when Batman's ship was blown out of the air -
He thinks the floor is shaking. Then he realizes it's him.
The door to his room is right there. Dick practically sprints to it, throwing the door open. His room, walls brightly coloured and decorated with posters and pictures, seems like a haven. He barely remembers to shut the door before he jumps on the bed.
The mattress dips down as he rolls over and shuts his eyelids, desperate for the numbness he knows that sleep brings.
The world goes dark.
Batman falls and for a minute his whole world is quiet.
Dick can feel his pulse quickening, responding to his distress. He swallows thickly, forcing emotion back. It's just a simulation, he reminds himself. It's not real. Batman's safe. There's still a horrified part of him who screams at him, who wails and sobs as his mentor, his father, goes down in a beam of light. He's lost another parent. Another life gone.
Wally shifts uneasily to his left. Dick spares a look at his best friend. He's gone pale under his freckles as the newscast continues to change. Iris shows up on the screen, and Dick holds his breath. He knows the simulation is destined to fail, designed to test their reactions to a failed mission, but he can't look away as the screen fizzles out and Iris' cry of surprise burns itself into his mind.
He hears Wally's sharp inhale and, without thinking, reaches over and clasps his hand. Wally grips back, not looking at him, but he stops vibrating on spot.
The news is still rolling. It flickers briefly to Gotham, where the reporter on scene is tracking down Shadowbat's movements. Dick watches as Damian avoids the death rays and delivers a swift kick to one of the ships. The ship topples sideways, but the sensors start beeping. Damian doesn't have time to jump off before it explodes.
When the dust settles, his brother is gone.
"We're the last line of defense," Artemis murmurs, and he knows she's thinking analytically in order not to feel overwhelmed. "We have to be ready.""Some of the heroes are still alive," M'gann points out, trying to remain optimistic.
Conner raises an eyebrow. "Who? Superman, Batman - (Dick flinches) - Zatara, Atom, Tornado, Flash, Arrow, Wonder Woman, Shadowbat, and Canary are all gone. There's no one left.""Gotham still has Red Hood and Red Robin," Artemis says.
"Not anymore," Wally's gaze remains on the screen. Dick doesn't watch as Jason is dragged, kicking and screaming, over to one of the ships. Doesn't flinch when Tim drops in and is obliterated by the ray.
Aqualad turns to face the team. His face is grim, and his eyes are set. "We're moving out. Miss Martian, prepare the bioship.""Where are we going?" Dick hears himself say.
"To the hall of justice."
The timer ticks down, digits steadily decreasing by the minute. Dick's out of ideas, Artemis, Kaldur, and Conner are all gone (because of you) a voice in his head screams at him, but he can't think about that now, not when they might die, really die.
He hopes that if nothing else, M'gann and J'onn will survive. Will avenge them. Will save the earth. He doesn't have much hope for that, though.
Wally's pacing nervously, his eyes flickering around the room, and Dick feels guilt rising in his throat, because it's his fault, all his fault, that he's stuck here. God, he doesn't know what he'd do if they all die because of him. He has to save Wally.
But how? He knows already that the walls are too thick. They can't get out using the batarangs, and Wally -
No. He's wrong. There is a way to get Wally out safely. It'll just be a little harder.
Dick remembers when Tim told him about how the Flash learned to vibrate his molecules. Something about being kissed. His heart speeds up a little. Even now, when they're about to die, he's still thinking about kissing his best friend.
Even if Wally hates him for the rest of his life, he has to save his best friend. Because Wally can do so much more than Dick can, and he owes his friend to at least give him an opportunity to survive.
He walks over to Wally, and feels the redhead stop pacing frantically. Wally's eyes are wide as Dick gently pushes him back against the wall and takes his uniform in his hands. He stands on his tiptoes and brushes his lips against Wally's.
Instantly it's like sparks have raced up his lips, into his brain, and he can't think. It's Wally, Wally whose arms grab his hips and pull him closer, Wally whose lips taste like fruit and granola bars, whose kissing him back as hard as he's kissing.
They break apart. Wally's gaze is slightly dazed. He doesn't seem to notice that he's vibrating. Dick subtly nudges his friend further through the wall. Already, half of his body is through the wall.
"How long?" Wally whispers. His voice is impossibly soft.
Dick feels himself choking up. "For as long as I've known," He answers honestly.
"Why didn't you tell me?""I was afraid." Dick leans closer, and then kisses him again. Wally's vibrating so rapidly right now, molecules blurring in and out of existence. He's almost entirely through the wall.
Dick pushes him through and his best friend's face disappears.
The timer reaches zero.
Dick's world is reduced to nothing but heat and pain, blasting across his body, shrapnel imbedded in his flesh. His skin is melting. The world goes white.
He wakes up and they tell him it was a dream. He wakes up and his world is gone. He wakes up to see Wally avoiding his eyes, Artemis scowling (her hands are trembling she's scared) at Oliver, and the rest of his team safe and sound. They're safe. They're alive. He's not dead. Batman isn't dead, his mentor didn't die, his brothers are safe, the world isn't under attack.
Dick still feels the explosion washing over his body, obliterating him from existence.
He's cold.
Dick wakes up with a jolt and a cry of alarm. There's someone holding him down, and he panics, thrashing around.
"Whoa!" They say, and Dick narrowly misses their face. "Dick, calm down, it's just me, it's Jason!"
Dick stops struggling and relaxes in Jason's hold. He's sweating, panting, and his heart is racing. He forces his eyes open.
Jason's hovering over him, eyes furrowed. His hands are on Dick's, pinning him to the mattress, stopping him from hurting himself. Dick's eyes flicker to the left and he spots Tim, sitting on the mattress and frowning lightly. There's a brief pressure on his forehead, and then Damian retracts his hand. The eldest face is kept carefully blank, but Dick has known Damian enough to spot the concern.
Dick swallows and looks at Jason again. "Let me go," he requests, voice hoarse.
To his surprise, Jason complies and releases him. The instant he does, Dick sits up in the bed and untangles his legs from the blanket. His hair is sweaty and strands of it sticks to his face. He doesn't look at his brothers. He can still feel the dream, still see Damian's limp body lowered to the ground, still hear Tim's heartbreaking scream of denial as he watched Jason dissolve.
"Are you okay?" Jason asks, jolting him back to the present.
It's ironic. Normally, Dick would have been ecstatic to have all of his brothers in the same room without arguing, but all he wants right now is for them to leave.
"I'm fine." He pushes aside his emotions and focuses on the patterns on his comforter.
"Dick…" Tim's voice is soft and hesitant. He stiffens as Tim places a hand on his shoulder. "Don't lock us out. We're here for you."
"I said I'm fine." Dick stresses the last syllable, clutching the mattress tightly.
Damian tuts. "Obviously not," he snaps, and Dick flinches a little at the tone. "What happened during today's mission, Grayson?"
Dick closes his eyes and forces himself to forget about his dream. "Nothing."
His brothers fall silent, but he knows they are exchanging glances over his head.
"Bruce said you were going to do a simulation today," Tim says carefully. "He didn't tell us how it ended."
Jason snorts. "Does he ever tell you anything?"
"Jason," Damian growls out in warning, and Jason falls silent. He's still hovering over Dick.
"It was - it was a training simulation. Martian Manhunter gave us a scenario." Dick opens his eyes and keeps his voice level.
"That's not all that happened," Jason narrows his eyes. "Tell us, please."
Dick's chest is tight with repressed emotion. He can't let them see him break down. They already know he's weak. They don't need to be burdened by him.
Damian hesitates, looking unsure, then -
Dick's eyes widen as Damian envelops him in a hug. His brother's scent surrounds him, comforting and like home. A bit musky, and the smell of aftershave. Damian's arms are stiff, slightly awkward around him, but he's big enough to completely bury him in his arms. Dick inhales it. His vision blurs. He doesn't realize he's shaking.
He's crying now, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches at Damian like a lifeline. He's staining Damian's pajamas, but his brother doesn't seem to care, holding him tightly and carefully. The floodgates open, and then he's speaking, words slurred and broken.
"I didn't mean to - I couldn't do anything - You all died - and I was so useless… I couldn't even save anyone. I lead my team to their deaths -" His voice shakes and cracks, but Dick needs to explain, needs to tell them. It was his fault, and he's sorry for that, they need to know that he tried his best. He doesn't want them to blame him like his team did -
"Wait, what?" Jason's voice is sharp. Dick trembles, and Jason's voice softens. "What happened?"
Damian pulls back briefly, enough for Dick to see his face, but he doesn't let go, which he's grateful for. Somehow, he feels as though if Damian let go of him now, he's going to fall, and he's not going to be able to pick himself back up. "Richard," Damian says, then pauses. "Dick. What happened today?"
Tim joins them, hands circling his waist, and Dick leans into the embrace. He's still crying, vision blurring as tears continue to fall. Tim motions for Jason to join in. After a moment of hesitation, he does, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Dick.
Dick swallows his tears and speaks. "I - we were doing a failsafe simulation. We were supposed to - supposed to be tested on our reactions to the circumstances. It was designed to fail, no matter what we did. And -" His breath hitches and he sobs as he remembers Artemis' scream as she disappears, as Kaldur shoves them through the zeta tube and knowing that he was leading his team into certain death.
He can't continue.
Tim's arms tighten around him, and Damian's voice is a growl. "Father let you do that?"
"No - Batman was right -" Dick shakes his head. Bruce isn't to blame, it was designed to be a simulation, he couldn't have known it would turn out like this. What happened was his fault, not Bruce's. "When Artemis died - M'gann - her powers are still developing, she can't tell the difference between reality and the simulation. She took over it, and it - it became real." He grips Jason's sleeve tightly, still afraid that they'd disappear if he let go.
Dick needs to tell them. "You guys - you all died." He buries his head in Tim's shoulder. Tim's rubbing gentle circles on his back, and god. He's trembling so hard, shaking. "Damian, you tried to take them on - they were too strong - I was just watching - Jason, you -"
Jason stiffens slightly but doesn't let go of him.
"They vaporized you," he whispers. "You were gone. And Tim was alone." He clutches his brother tightly. "I lead my team to their deaths. I knew they weren't alive, but I still lead them. I -"
Tim presses a kiss to his forehead. It's gentle, and so warm that Dick stops speaking. "It's okay, babybird," Tim murmurs. His hands rub his back. "We're here. We're alive. You're safe."
"But -"
Jason joins in. "Yeah, it's not your fault, Dickie." Jason's eyes are earnest, sincere. "If anything, it's Bruce's. He should have known not to put you in a situation like that."
"I lead my team to their deaths," Dick whispers.
"And it was a simulation," Damian interrupts. "Whatever happened in there wasn't real. None of it was your fault, Richard. We're here. Alive."
Dick wants to protest, he really does, but the sudden burst of emotion is leaving him drained. He's tired from repressing his emotions. He's exhausted, he wants to sleep, and his brothers are there. They're with him, holding him, warm and alive. He presses his ears against Tim's chest and hears his heart beating strongly.
"You should go to sleep," Tim says, lips brushing against his hair. Dick hesitates. He doesn't want them to leave.
"We'll stay," Jason promises. He leans forward and gently tousles his hair. Jason shoots a look at Damian. "Even him."
Damian snorts, looking disgruntled, but settles down anyway. Dick reaches for Damian's hand, and the other holds it with his much larger palm. "We won't leave."
Dick allows himself to settle more comfortably against Tim's embrace. For once, as his eyes flutter shut, he feels safe and protected.
He doesn't dream of fire that night. He doesn't dream of falling. He doesn't dream of bodies hitting the ground.
Dick dreams of flying.