Author: Fighter1357

Date: 4/17/2014

Summary: Dick and Steve have a talk on top of Avengers tower. Dick already knew he wouldn't have it any other way, Steve would only just admit it.

Characters: Richard G./Nightwing, Steve R./Captain America

Steve loved Dick Grayson almost as a son, in a ways of course, he was one. At least, he was a nephew. Steve was biologically older than Dick by eight years, and so they spent more time laughing at jokes then they did as father or son, like Tony did with Dick. Sometimes, Steve found himself jealous of Tony's relationship with the misplaced hero. They acted, in so many ways, alike and yet they were equally very different. Sometimes, Dick would find himself and Tony in the argument of the century and the next they were laughing at memes, mimes— whatever they were called, from the internet.

There were days when Dick would sit there and stare at all of them in almost longing, as if instead of Captain America he saw Superman, who fought for "truth, justice, and the American way" (something Steve found himself agreeing with until Dick began to laugh at him about it). Steve tried to comfort the boy, and in some ways his comforting messages helped. Both of them were misplaced; one from time and the other from worlds. It wasn't hard to sit down and talk about your differences when everyone you knew was either dead or years behind you as you excelled in age at a rate they couldn't comprehend.

Dick enjoyed talking with Steve, as much as the latter did with Dick. Dick was a good listener but he asked questions; he was curious. He asked about the stereotypes of the '40s and Steve's perspectives and how things were in comparison. It led to interestingly fascinating discussions. Eventually, they'd always come into the subject of Steve's life there. What was the food like? The clothing? How did the city of New York look then and now? The answers were short, as it was hard for Steve to think about it. The memories were by no means fading, the soldier could often recall memories of the thirties when he was a child in clear focus. One day, both of them speculated it was the serum that allowed him to remember so well. The thought had made Steve pretty happy.

Steve's recollections of the time period, of his era… his home, were often led by long awkward silences. And soon Steve, being the adult, would turn to Dick and ask him about home, or at least what had been Dick's home.

Steve and the rest of the team knew quite well Dick's backstory, it wasn't hard to discern after what happened when the team had come. That had been a year ago and the boy was still adjusting to seeing them for the first in five years. One year later, Dick still would look at the spot where the landed and then up to the sky.

"It's only been a day for them," Dick said to Steve on the anniversary of when it happened. "They saw me yesterday, they're still coping with it. Bruce —."

"Dick," Steve cut in, leaning forward to put a comforting hand on the boys shoulder. "It's alright. They'll be fine… they'll cope. Just… I'm a godly man, Richard. I know… no, I have faith, they'll be alright."

The nineteen year old looked up and smiled. "Thanks, Steve."

Still, after that day they spoke of Dick's home very little. It wasn't until two months after that Dick mentioned his father. In confusion, Steve thought he meant Bruce Wayne and it took him a moment to realize Dick meant his biological father, the one that Steve knew very little about.

"Haley, he was the owner of the circus, said I was so much alike him. Guess I'll have to keep that Grayson charm going, won't I?"

"I thought… didn't Bruce adopt you?"

"I was his ward, I wasn't officially adopted. But in short, yeah I guess. But I meant my dad, my real dad."

"Oh." Steve looked down. "You're like him?"

"Oh yeah, at least according to all of Haley's Circus. I got my dad's hair color and my mom's eyes and stuff and I look a lot like my dad. He was cool though, as much as I remember him. It's really foggy, you know? I don't know what he would've looked like now, if he'd seen me grow up. Then again, who I am here in this world and who I would've been had they not died would be—."

"Completely different people," Steve finished. Dick nodded.

"Yeah, big time. But I remember my dad being pretty chill about things. He liked Big Band, you know Glenn Miller and stuff. The music you listened to."

"Did he?"

"Yeah, big time. Heh. Easily his favorite music. That's one of the main things I remember, our train car always had music coming from it. In the form of my dad's Big Band music or my mother's hymns, there was almost always something. He loved that time, and now here I am talking to a guy who lived it." Dick chuckled. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Steve paused a moment. It seemed almost as if Dick were entrusting something to him that no other had heard. Of course, it was a silly thought. Dick had certainly told Tony and Pepper everything, and he would trust his old family more than he ever could the new one. He wondered if Dick missed it, the life with the Justice League and the life with his parents. He wouldn't be here if it weren't for them, his parents, dying? Would he ever trade this life, this world and even the one back home, the one of a hero, to live with his parents?

"Dick," Steve asked, his voice turning serious, "if you could… would you give it up?"

Dick paused a moment before he looked away. They were sitting on top of Stark Tower, the soon to be Avengers Tower, watching as the sun slowly set below the city, as if ropes were tied to the buildings and they lassoed the sun and pulled it from the sky. It seemed abrupt and too quick to shed any real beauty.

"I don't think so. I mean, why would I? This is a multi-verse system, that means somewhere somehow there is a version of Richard John Grayson city at Haley's Circus wondering when his next show is going to be. That's his story, and this is mine and there is nothing I can do, we are neither the writers of our own stories nor the publishers, just the characters. In this story I am here sitting down, from one universe to the next, with Captain America. In another story, there is one where I am still with the team and I never came here. Why deny fate, at least… why deny a fate, a story… where you aren't the writer?"

"So you can't deny the story, but Dick… did you want to go back?" Steve asked. He dreaded the answer he knew would it. Dick's reasoning had been practical, but, Steve assumed, it had not been preferred.

"At first, when I was thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen… yeah, I did. I desperately wanted to get home. My mind was altered, changed and it wasn't something… no, it isn't something I'm particularly fond of recalling. It happened thought. I mean, once Tony… I mean, once he began to grow on me… all of you, I didn't. I mean, I adjusted; what else was I going to do? I didn't want to go back, I moved on. It was hard, it was a stupid way of moving on… but I did."

"You wanted to stay," Steve repeated, blinking hard. "Really?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't change it for the world. It sucked but… I really love you guys," Dick replied, chuckling. "I mean… this place needed my help just as much as the other one did, if not more. No offense to the Avengers but… you guys did horrible in the beginning."

Steve laughed and nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I guess we did. Of course, we had some help with that, Mr. Grayson."

When Steve recalled this moment later in life, he always smiled. At first, yes it had been heartbreaking but it had gotten better over time; like Dick, Steve came to finding that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Fin.