Part One
The snow in Gotham isn't the clean, sparkly kind known to Hallmark movies and Holiday cards. It's wet, slushy and gray with the filth of the city seeped in. It'll look more like it should the closer they get to Wayne Manor, which is maybe the one thing Dick looks forward to.
He never thought he'd set foot there again, let alone for Christmas with his intergalactic girlfriend and two superpowered teenaged wards. But things have changed, he's changed. He knows now that outrunning his past isn't sustainable. And maybe the distance he's kept for so long has given the wounds time to close.
He hits the last stoplight before the bridge to Midtown just in time for a homeless schizophrenic's garbled street corner rendition of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town," and he thinks for not the first time this trip that he should have taken Bruce up on his offer to send the jet. But Kory seems to be enjoying herself at least. She claps for the man when he finishes, and cracks the passenger side window to let him come fetch a crisp 100 dollar bill. Dick thought she would have been rid of that habit by now, especially after getting her memory back, but she seems to have as little comprehension of human money as always. Or more likely it just doesn't matter all that much to her.
"I think I'm going to like it in Gotham," she says, giving the grateful man a quick wave before the light changes green and Dick steps off of the brake.
"Nobody likes it in Gotham," Dick says. "This town is a poison running through the veins of everyone cursed enough to set foot here."
"My God do you ever lighten up? Like at all?" Rachel says tiredly from the backseat. He thought she'd still be out like a light along with Gar.
"She's got a point," Kory says, and of course she would think that about him. Kory is the definition of light. She's currently wearing a crown of blinking Christmas lights on top of her long red hair, and a crop sweater decorated like a present, a huge red bow in front. She paired it with her favorite metallic purple mini skirt and thigh high sweater knit socks. She won't fit into Bruce Wayne's world of finely tailored everything, Dick accepts that and he's sure that Kory never cared in the first place.
He's no stranger to the odd and outlandish, he's a former circus performer who dresses up in a costume and fights bad guys in his day to day. But none of that ever seems to completely negate the seriousness that has been ground into him over the years. Whenever Kory makes him laugh, which is often, he never lets it go on for too long or too loud. But he's getting better, brighter. He can feel it, and he hopes that she can too.
And yet, things have been quiet for most of the drive. He knows why. It's because the night before she told him that she loved him for the first time. They were tangled up in the sheets together after sex, his head resting on her breasts, her shiny pink nails scratching his sweaty hair. In that moment, and in several moments before that, he knew that he loved her. There was no doubt in his frequently troubled mind. And yet when she said the words herself, simple as anything with no warning or preamble, the part of him that might have had the emotional courage to say it back slipped right out of his grasp. The only thing he was still left holding onto was fear, because how was love even supposed to work for someone like him?
He was never as far removed from his issues as he wanted to be, never as comfortable. The threat that he could easily become what he once was constantly weighed on him, and he felt it more than ever when she said those words. It was like she'd given him a beautiful gift he had no idea what to do with, an expensive crystal vase that looked entirely out of place in the shithole apartment that was his psyche. So he stayed quiet, he said nothing. A thank you would have been better.
Unfortunately, before that clusterfuck of his own making, he'd already made the decision to let them meet Bruce. And when Kory greeted him this morning dressed in that sweater, with her overnight bag packed, he knew there was no getting out of it.
After over another hour of driving in silence, they finally reach the outskirts of uptown Gotham. It's only a matter of time now before he sees his guardian again, and his thick gray scarf feels tighter around his neck somehow.
"Are we almost there? Holy shit am I really about to meet Batman?" Gar cries excitedly from the backseat. Dick nearly flinches, he hadn't even heard the boy stir or yawn.
"You're going to meet Bruce Wayne," Dick says. "Try to remember that, please."
"Still really, really cool, do you think he'll let me drive one of his Ferraris? I have a learner's permit."
"You do not have a learner's permit," Rachel says between letting out a heavy yawn.
"But I can pretend to have one, like I just did. Expertly, I might add."
"Dinner tonight, presents in the morning, then home, that's what we decided," Dick says.
He glances at his rearview mirror just in time to see Gar roll his eyes and slump a bit in his seat.
"And Nightwing has once again thwarted his true arch nemesis, fun," The boy says.
After driving the rest of the way in silence, they pull in through the gates of Wayne Manor right on schedule. He'd been wary about driving through Gotham but the trip had gone smoothly, no shootouts or surprise attacks from Joker's goons to ruin their Christmas before it could start. And yet, the dread only now begins settling in for Dick as he looks at the staggering mansion blanketed in sections with moon white snow.
It's been too long since he's seen Bruce and no matter how many times he goes over it in his head, he can't find the right words to say to him, especially since Jason won't be there. Bruce won't be ready to talk about why, he may never be ready. It's been months since Jason died, but that isn't the sort of thing a person just gets over, especially not Bruce.
Somewhere deep inside, Dick knows that he may not have accepted the invitation had Jason survived. He would have stayed away and looked for a million more reasons to hold onto his resentment, not so much toward Bruce anymore, but toward the past that he hoped to overcome fully before letting such a big part of it into his present. He likes his life now. He likes the kids in the backseat, and the beautiful woman in the dumb sweater. He wants to like it for a little bit longer before dealing with all of this. And yet he parks the car anyway, and steps out.
He takes Kory's hand before they get to the big wooden front door. She doesn't let go, but she does look over at him.
"So we're still doing this?" she says it that snarky tone he's come to love. He'd hoped she wouldn't bring the messiness from last night up in front of Rachel and Gar, but he knew her well enough to understand why she would. Nothing was secret between any of them anymore.
"Nothing has changed Kory," Dick says quietly. He wants to add that he didn't mean to leave her heartfelt words hanging in the air like that, but then he'd have to try to say them back and then almost certainly choke on them.
"Yeah," Kory says coldly, even as his hand remains in hers. "That's the problem."
She knocks on the door before he can say another word, and He swallows hard.
"Please tell me you guys aren't fighting," Raven says. "That would be so annoying."
"She means sad," Gar says.
"No, I mean annoying."
"Quiet, both of you," Kory says, and as always, they listen.
Dick expects Alfred to get the door, it's the one comfort he takes in being here again, the fact that the steady old man's face is the first one visitors always see. But instead it's his second favorite redhead standing in the doorway.
Barbara Gordon. Batgirl. Babs. He hasn't seen her since before he left Gotham, over two years ago. She looks the same, except for maybe a few extra freckles and slightly shorter hair.
"Babs, you're… hi." Dick says.
"I am not, never touched a drug in my life." She jokes. "Bring it in stranger."
So he goes to hug her, as awkwardly as a person can manage, because the situation itself couldn't be more awkward. He and Babs were friends once, maybe nearly as close as him and Donna, and he left her like he left everyone, only to show up two years later with an entirely new family.
He isn't worried about Babs liking Kory, all women like Kory. He can't get through the first couple of minutes of any conversation with Donna without her bringing up his relationship in that delighted voice. And Rachel and Gar are kids, Babs loves kids. At the moment, the only person he's worried about her hating is him.
"Who do we have here?" Babs says.
"Kory," she says, offering a hug that Babs clearly wasn't expecting. She returns it anyway and looks over Kory's shoulder to raise her eyebrows playfully at Dick."I'm Dick's—
"Girlfriend," Dick says, cutting her off, because if Kory had introduced herself as his friend he may have cried.
"That's the accepted term," Kory says. "So who are you? A cousin? An ex?"
"No, not my ex," Dick answers too quickly. This is exactly the situation to make him forget his well-honed cool. "So, you guys want a tour or something? Alfred!"
"Alfred's cooking," Babs says. "But I can take your coats and show you guys around, I didn't get your names by the way."
"I'm Garfield, but everyone calls me Gar," The boy says. "Also this place is awesome. Do you live here? Because I'm officially jealous. You should see our apartment, it's like a crack house compared to this."
"No I don't live here, and did you say 'our apartment' as in all four of you?" She asks, gesturing across the group.
"A lot's happened in two years Babs," Dick says.
"Heh, I would say so."
As much as Dick doesn't want to leave Kory, Rachel and Gar alone with Babs, he wants to be there to witness the mutual interrogation even less. So he lets the four of them go it alone while he goes to the kitchen to catch up with Alfred, the one man in Gotham he's managed to keep in semi-touch with. He looks the same too, maybe even a little younger than he remembers. And the kitchen smells as good as it ever did.
When he finally manages the will to ask where Bruce is, Dick is unsurprised to learn that he's in the cave again, probably contemplating a Christmas without Jason and the sheer mindfuck of Dick's presence after so long. They'll see each other soon, but for now the relief sets in. He has a little more time.
"Master Bruce has had a… pensive holiday this year, to say the least." Alfred says. "He's down there more than anywhere else."
"Do you think I should go, do you think he'd want me to?"
"You and I both know the answer to that."
It's no. It's no because this needs to be on Bruce's terms, just like everything always does. He feels something familiar rise within him, the climbing heat of his anger. He's better at spotting it now. He breathes in and out and tries to remind himself that he'd just been relieved that Bruce wasn't there to meet him, that neither of them had handled anything well, and maybe they never point is to try, and if that means letting The Batman breathe, that's what he'll have to do.
He doesn't want to talk to Bruce yet. He wants to talk to Kory. Before last night she'd been the steadiest thing he had to hold onto, now he can feel her floating away and he needs to fix it before he can fix anything else.
"I'm going to find Kory," he says. Alfred knows about her from their talks, he doesn't know that she isn't human, but he knows pretty much everything else. He approves, he'd probably approve even if he did know just how far up she fell from.
"Bring her here, bring them all. We'll have hot chocolate and I'll tell them every embarrassing story about you I know," Alfred says.
"One of them has psychic powers, won't be necessary." He says before stepping out of the kitchen.
He finds her in the big checkered hallway on the other side, almost as if she was waiting for him there.
"You ditched the tour?" he says.
She shrugs, "I got bored, nobody needs to know the gritty origin story of the Wayne Family crown moulding. Babs seems nice though."
"She is."
"Nice girl, bad tour guide."
He smiles at her and steps a little closer to put his hands on her waist, not certain if she wants them to be there.
"I'm sorry," he says, pulling her closer and touching his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry I ruined it."
She snakes her arms around his neck, an act of forgiveness and affection for him that she can never really switch off.
"You didn't ruin it. I didn't tell you I loved you so you'd have to say it back. I was just hoping you'd say, I don't know, anything, or at least pretend to be asleep to spare my feelings."
"I thought of that," he says, and cracks a small, teasing smile, only to take it back once he realizes how highly unamused she is.
"I just wanted to know how you felt about it, that's all" she says. He tries to put himself back into the mindset of last night, how warm and safe and comfortable he felt in her arms. He'd stayed inside of her for a few minutes after they'd finished, soft and spent, he needed that extra closeness and she needed it too. In fact she always needed it. She was so distant from everything she could really call her own, except for him, and the kids she loved more than anything. He knew that and yet when she told him how she really felt, he couldn't say it back. He can't even say it right now.
"I felt…"
honesty, it has to be honesty, even if it hurts.
"I felt scared."
"Scared of what?
Once again he doesn't answer, he touches her face instead, and brings her in for a long kiss that she thankfully doesn't break. He can't find the words, but he can do this, he can show her. He does love her, there's nothing else that this feeling can mean. But if he says it, will she even believe it after everything? It's better just to kiss her, and put his arms around her, and…
"This sweater is ridiculous," he says, his voice a husky groan as he breaks away. His strong hand creeping up under the soft knit. "I want it off, now."
"Right here in the hallway?" she says. "Don't you have like an old Butler or something wandering around?"
"My bedroom."
"But Rach and Gar."
"They'll be fine, Babs is the world's greatest tour guide remember?"
She giggles and he remembers how much he loves that sound, he has to be fast, Wayne Manor is huge and getting her to his old room will take a second. They make their way up the stairs and down the hall together, stealing kisses and touches every so often. This is bad, he knows it is. It's been too long to really still call it his home, and yet he needs this, just something to take away some of the angst of being in this huge place that can feel lonely even when it's brimming with voices. And yes, part of it is about at least temporarily fixing things with Kory. Fucking his problems away has always been a reliable go to. He needs this to think straight again, to face Bruce, to enjoy the delicious quail Alfred is making for them. He needs this so it can be Christmas.
"This your old room?" She says as they get inside the door and he shuts it.
"Mm hmm," he answers, brushing her hair to the side and attacking her neck with kisses from behind.
"Did he change it?" She asks. He stops for a moment to look around.
"No, why?"
"It looks like a fancy hotel room, there's no you in here. It was yours until college right? Where are the Star Wars sheets and New Kids On The Block posters?"
"Who did you think I was in high school?"
She crosses her arms and gives him a challenging look. "I don't know. I can count on one hand the things I know about you before you met me. I didn't even know Babs was a thing."
"Babs isn't a thing, she's a friend."
"Who I've never met."
He moves in on her again, kissing away her questions. "Can we please talk about this later?"
"Yes, but I'm still mad at you."
"I know." He kisses her again, and picks her up to get her to the bed faster. She likes to be on top, and he loves her being on top, but he wants to stay like this for a while, with her body pressed between him and the cushy bed, he wants her to feel his weight. If she can feel it then maybe she'll know for sure that no matter how much of a mess he is, he isn't going to leave her, not ever.
At first, he stopped running because of a sense of duty, a moral code he needed if he was ever going to be his own hero. Now he stays because he can't imagine being away from them, from her. He remembers the last time he ran away, to sort himself out on Donna's couch. He couldn't stop thinking about them even then. It's easier now that he stays, it's easier just to keep them.
After he gets her out of her sweater, then loses the rest of their clothes aside from her knitted socks, he's already more okay than he was just a minute ago. Sounds don't really carry in this house, he isn't self conscious about being loud, about letting it all out. He's been twisted up into a knot of unsaid feelings since last night, and he needs to unravel with her. No matter what he keeps inside, it has to be enough for now to know that she's his, and he's hers, and that won't ever change.
They're both strong as hell with crazy stamina, they can last for hours sometimes if they want to, but right now it needs to be quick. He remembers the right places to touch her, the ones that make her tremble and sigh. He knows how to move his hips to get just the right friction going on her most sensitive spot. They've done this so many times, in so many different places and situations and positions. Getting her to come is basically muscle memory at this point, but it feels deeper than that, like a connection that existed long before a year ago. It's an all-consuming need to give her everything that he has. It's love, and his stupid ass still can't say it out loud.
They finish together in that same shivering, breathless heap they've been in so many times before. And she laughs, because she sometimes can't help herself afterward. He presses his face against her neck to make her laugh more. It's going to be okay now, he knows it is.
They get their clothes back on nearly as quickly as they'd gotten them off, and they situate their hair as much as they can. He feels looser, calmer now, even though their conflict isn't quite over yet.
"Do you think anyone heard?" Kory says as they exit his room into the hallway.
"And on your left, we have a man who is in big trouble."
At the sound of Babs' voice behind them, he jerks around quickly. The three of them all have the same smirk on their faces, like they absolutely know what just went down in his old bedroom. Maybe they'd been up here long enough to hear something incriminating after all, maybe they notice his shirt is unbuttoned when it wasn't before, maybe they're not fucking idiots.
"Hey," Gar says. "You guys made up!"
This was going to be the longest Christmas ever.
By the way, I am aware that Barbara Gordon is a disabled character. I'm not erasing that like the comic unfortunately did. In this story it hasn't happened yet (although if I use her again in a related story I may explore that). I'm not entirely sure of the timeline of Barbara's injury, but I feel like it happened when she was in her mid to late 20s.
