Rain drizzled lazily on the sidewalks as the gray overcast of the sky muted the world to a bleak monotone. The sun was buried behind a wall of clouds, and showed no signs of breaking through anytime soon.
Dick's footsteps were soundless against the pavement as he walked over the little spots of water on the ground, not caring as the rain dripped onto his neck and down the back of his shirt, not bothering to pull up the hood on his jacket. The pockets of his utility belt were firm beneath his hands as they were tucked neatly into the wide pocket of his hoodie, and he wondered why he bothered to bring it. Granted, Batman had spent years drilling it into his head to never leave home without it, but he had a feeling Bruce would have given him a break today.
He pushed open the lightly rusted iron gate that surrounded the neat rows of little stones. His feet carried him to the one he was looking for, having gone there so many times, he didn't even have to think about it.
He stopped in front of a simple headstone, the names on it sending pangs through his chest. He ran his hands over the weathered marble, his fingertips lingering in the neat engravings.
He knelt, pulling a small, colorful mask from his pocket and laid it gently on the ground beside the stone, the empty holes staring at him.
"Yeah. I know, nine years is a long time. But don't worry. I'm not alone." he whispered.
(*)
"Hey, M'gann, have you seen Nightwing around?" Conner asked, a bit nervous.
The Martian looked up from the recipe Wally had given her, not noticing his jumpiness. "Um, I think I heard him leave out the Zeta tube a little while ago." she answered.
"Thanks." He breathed a sigh of relief, thanking whatever god there was that she hadn't asked why.
There had been something important he had needed to tell him for quite a while, but just... couldn't. But now, he couldn't hold it back anymore without feeling as if he would burst.
So, of course, he would be impossible to find.
He opened up the logs for the Zeta tubes, pulling up Nightwing's.
Blüdhaven. Must be at Wally's.
He stepped through the tube, the robotic monotone chiming in his wake to mark his departure.
Gotham's sister city rested beneath a canopy of heavy clouds, rain already dripping lightly to the ground, staining small dots on the concrete. Wally's condo was only a few minutes away, nearby to both the Zeta tube, and the collage he and Artemis attended.
He knocked on the door, cracking a grin at the coat of green paint that smelled recent. Artemis had wanted to paint the door green ever since they had moved in, as some sort of tribute to their hero days. Wally had been objected to the idea, saying they whole point was to leave the life behind, but, obviously, Artemis ended up winning that one.
The sound of quietly shuffling papers teased his ultra sensitive hearing, which meant Wally was probably curled up in a corner surrounded by textbooks and notes to study for some test. Everyone was impressed by how dedicated the ex-speedster was to his studies, finding it difficult he could be so still and quiet for hours on end.
"Oh, hey Conner. What's up?" the ginger asked tiredly.
"Is Nightwing there? M'gann said he was headed out."
The drowsy look dropped off of his face in an instant. His eyes widened a bit in realization.
"Conner, don't you know what day it is?" he asked, his voice quieting.
"Um, June fourteenth? Why does it matter?"
Wally's eyes closed, and he let out a tight sigh."You might want to check the old cemetery over on Jackson." he opened his eyes.
"The cemetery? Why?" the clone asked, confused.
"Not my place to explain, but if he's still there, you might be able to just ask him." Wally answered, not elaborating.
"Okay. Thanks."
"No problem, Kon." The emerald door clicked quietly closed.
The rain picked up slightly as Conner made his way to the graveyard, and the wind had begun to blow, as well. Cool drops splashed on his exposed arms, and he wished he had a jacket to block the weather.
Small spots of rust dotted the low fence around the cemetery, slender trees seeming to hold it upright as they butted up against it. The lines of headstones were mostly empty, except one.
Conner's eyes focused on the kneeling shape of their leader, Nightwing's raven hair slicked down from the rain. The shoulders of his hoodie were also soaked, so he must have been there a while.
He was about to call out to him, but before he could, Nightwing stood and Conner's words caught in his throat. As the slender teen turned to leave, Conner was shocked at what he saw.
For one thing, he wasn't wearing his mask, revealing him to have the bluest eyes Conner had ever seen. But what shocked him more, was the lone tear sliding from one of those eyes.
He watched in silence as Nightwing left, before glancing at the headstone, wondering whose it could be.
No longer in sight, he slipped into the cemetery and walked to the marker Nightwing had been kneeling at.
Well, now he know what Wally meant by the date.
Nine years ago today, Nightwing's entire family died.
Connor picked up the mask at the base of the headstone, colorful sequins and embellishments showing a bit of wear, so Nightwing must have had it for a while.
He turned it over and saw small print around the edge, reading Richard Grayson, Haley's Circus- The Flying Graysons.
Nightwing was part of a circus? Everyone knew he had an odd upbringing, no one alive was that freaking nimble, but only Batman and Wally actually knew about his past. He remembered a passing comment made by Batgirl about how the Flying Graysons were a family of acrobats, having been brought up by one of Beast Boy's unending questions.
He saw where, presumably Nightwing, had crossed out Richard and written Dick above it when he was young, the handwriting surprisingly neat.
Conner gingerly replaced the mask, it feeling much heavier than it had when he picked it up at the weight of its true significance. His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans as he spared the headstone another look, before leaving the cemetery.
(*)
The rain beat the concrete steadily as Dick slipped into the small cafe. Usually, he came here with Wally, but he knew that his best friend would be keeping his distance today.
The seat of the booth was cracked and squeaked noisily as he sat down, the fluorescent lights casting a soft glow over the table.
"Is there anything I can get you?" The voice of the waitress was almost mockingly chipper given both the weather and...
"Just coffee."
The rain plinked incessantly against the window, tiny beads dotting the glass. His head fell into his palms, water dripping onto the table off the ends of thick, raven strands. Broken snatches of old memories flashed through his mind. Most were of his family when life nothing more than a lighthearted career of fancy flips and dramatic falls to a wire.
But there were plenty of blood and screaming. Well, his screaming, at any rate. It's not every day an eight year old boy would watch his entire family be murdered in from of them.
Tears pricked at his eyes once more, threatening to fall, but he forced them back.
The battered bell on the door of the cafe chimed and heavy footsteps were heard.
With a very familiar shuffle to them.
"Hey, Conner." He said, not lifting his head.
"Um, hey."
Dick looked up and almost smiled at the baffled look on the clone's face. "What's up?"
"I wanted to talk to you." Conner shifted a bit, looking uncomfortable.
Dick raised an eyebrow. "Well, considering you've been following me since I left the cemetery, I would assume you did."
"Wait, you-"
"Really? You're a little heavy-footed for stealth, and I'm the one who knows when M'gann is following me in her Martian camo. I'm almost insulted you thing I wouldn't notice." he leaned against the wooden back of the bench, drawing more squeaks. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Conner slid into the seat across from him, fidgeting a bit. "Well, I-"
"Here you go. Is there anything else you need?" the waitress asked, depositing a cup of coffee in front of Dick.
"No, thanks" he answered, and she flashed another wide smile, before flouncing away. "You were saying?"
"Yeah, um I... I kind of like someone... but..." Dick suppressed a grin at his nervous stuttering.
"Okay, that's great Kon. Who?" he prompted.
"Well, you see, they... I didn't want... I don't think... It's you!" he blurted, immediately turning redder than the symbol on his shirt.
There was several moments of tense silence, before Dick dropped a five on the table next to the full cup of coffee, steam curling from its top.
Shit... Connor mentally cursed. He felt like an idiot.
He turned his head to where Dick had stopped at the door. Without turning, his leader jerked his head for Conner to follow, then slipped into the onslaught of rain.
By the time Conner made it to the door, Dick was already a good way down the street, and he quickened his pace to compensate for his long stride.
Eventually, they had reached the alley behind his apartment, when he whirled and yanked Connor into the alley and beneath the fire escape. Keeping them both out of the rain, and out of sight in the inky shadows.
"Wait, Nightwing, I-"
He never got the chance to finish. His lips were otherwise occupied, as they moved against Dick's.
After a good few minutes, they finally broke apart.
"For God's sake, Connor, I know you saw the mask. Just don't call me Dick in front of the others."
Conner grinned. "I think I can live with that." he said, before they went in for round two.
(*)
The deadbolt in Dick's apartment clicked, and the two stepped inside. Dick shook his head, and water flicked from his hair in a spray of droplets.
"Wow, are you sure you actually live here?" asked Connor, looking around the bare area.
"Sort of. At this point, it's just a place to sleep." Dick answered, tossing the keys onto the coffee table.
"Which explains why it looks like you're never here." he noted.
Dick chuckled. "True enough. I do have to drop by every couple of days, though, so Gracie knows I haven't taken off, or something." he yanked the soaked hoodie over his head, allowing Connor a quick snatch of his well-toned abdomen. "But other than that, I spend most of my time at Mount Justice."
"I know. You're there more than I am, and I live there." Conner said.
Dick's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he sat down on the couch, staring into open space. It was a long time before he spoke.
"Nine years, Kon. They've been gone nine years." he whispered.
Connor couldn't remember the last time Dick had ever looked so... defeated. His shoulders drooped and his palm cradled his face. The look in his eyes was sad and forlorn, and above all, lonely. Yes, he had friends whom he considered his family, and they him, but it wasn't the same. Once, he had a true family, but in a matter of minutes, that all changed.
Connor sat down next to Dick, staying quiet, but it was still several minutes before he reacted.
He simply turned to face him, each azure gaze boring into the other, one brimming with long suppressed tears.
Hesitantly, Connor held his arms out to the grieving teen, figuring what the hell, it can't be any worse than admitting my feeling to you.
He was a bit surprised, however, at how quickly Dick fell into his arms. His shoulders shook ever so slightly at his silent sobs. He had never cried like this before, but something about Conner being here with him... a wall seemed to crumble and the floodgates opened.
The tears didn't last long, though, and Dick pulled away, wiping they last of them from his eyes. He looked over at Conner, certain his face was a red as the clone's had been earlier.
"Y'know, I'm actually really glad you're here, Kon." he said, his voice a bit rough. "Honestly, I've been holding that back for years." He leaned into the bulkier boy's arms once more, feeling safer, happier, in the warmth of his grip.
"I'm glad I could be here for you." he said, running his fingers though Dick's hair, its texture softer than he could have imagined despite its dampness.
It wasn't long before the pair fell asleep.