The air is cold and burns his lungs in the most familiar ways, Gotham always was an unforgiving city. The tarmac is empty as Dick walks off the plane, single bag slung over his now broad shoulders. Its been too long, he knows, but even now the air is too thick. I wonder if Bruce has found me yet? The thought flits through his mind, not as bitter as it once would have been. It didn't matter even if Bruce knew he was here, Dick didn't plan on staying long in Gotham. Just to scope things out and pick up some stuff from a few old safe houses, then he'd move on to Bludhaven.
"Home sweet home." The words carried into the air, and maybe some part of him hoped, into the ears of a bat.
Dick Grayson left Gotham an angry, grief stricken teenager. He'd come back a twenty year old, no longer grieving but the anger replaced with a hard determination. Things had changed in those intermittent years, the boy became a man and home felt more foreign to him than the many oceans he'd already crossed. They say time heals but really it just moves forward, so quickly that those old wounds become unrecognizable. At least, he hoped it did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Four Days Later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tim Drake sighed as he sat down in front of his computer, Bruce was in another mood and was off yelling at Clark over some league conflict. Tim had been told to go home and not concern himself with adult business. It was thoroughly condescending, but Tim knew there was no point arguing. He'd resigned himself to finishing his chem homework before a ding from his computer told him of a new message.
Merry Christmas, little bro.
-D.G.
The sentiment was about a week late, but Tim was used to that with Dick's erratic schedule and constant moving. Tim was the only one Dick kept in almost semi-regular contact with after he'd left. Semi-regular as in he'd always send an email and a gift on birthdays and Christmas, then a longer update email every two months so Tim wouldn't worry. But Tim always worried, especially when there was a break in the schedule. When Dick didn't email him for months on end and Tim worried he'd cut all ties for good, or that the ties had been cut for him. Every email was encrypted and came from a different proxy server each time, been run through so many different networks and servers that by the time Tim could hack through the weeds of misleading information it would be too late and Dick would be long gone, if Tim found him in the first place.
"Just come home already." Tim said in frustration, tired of being left behind. Of the one always left waiting for any news of his older brother, good or bad.
Bruce searched tirelessly for the first year after Dick left, determined to bring him back kicking and screaming. Dick had left a letter, told Bruce not to worry but he didn't know when he'd be back. And at first Bruce let him be, thinking that he needed a few days to himself, but when days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months and Dick's seventeenth birthday past with no word Bruce lost his patience. Worry and the still very recent death clouding the family made him scared, terrified of losing another robin, another son. So the search had begun and for almost twelve months they'd tracked down leads, followed the wisps of a cold trail through different cities and countries. Until they'd hit a dead end and Bruce had nowhere else to look. Dick was trained by the best, it shouldn't have surprised them that he could disappear so easily. But they'd never thought he'd disappear from them. It was a little later that Dick sent his first and last email to Bruce, directly to the Batcomputer.
I'm sorry. I'm okay. Please stop looking for me.
-D.G.
Tim had been thirteen when Dick had left and he was fifteen now, almost sixteen. He remembered reading that letter and not understanding why his big brother didn't want to come home. And Bruce never really lost that pain behind his eyes, resigned himself to the truth and blamed himself for Dick leaving because Bruce Wayne was a master at taking on guilt.
Tim closed the message and turned halfhearted back to his chemistry book. Merry Christmas Dick.
"Bruce just let it go, it was a small oversight nothing bad came out of it." Clark said for the umpteenth time. It was a pointless argument that was leading nowhere. And though Clark could see that he wanted to continue the argument, Bruce decided to relent just this once.
"Fine. But it better not happen again." The dark knight was not happy, but couldn't disagree with Clark's statement. Superman sighed, him and Bruce were still in costume standing in the Batcave, the argument making him ridiculously late getting home to Lois.
"Hey Bruce, are you okay?" Clark asked, knowing that it was a loaded question to the vigilante. Bruce wasn't an emotive guy really, but even Clark could see the fatigue and sadness lingering on him, which meant he'd been thinking about Dick again. Bruce's eyes narrowed and Clark was waiting the berating retort when a flashing alarm set off on the Batcomputer.
Batman turned completely to the computer, hands flying across the keyboard. Clark watched as a live video feed, from what he assumed was a CCTV camera, started playing in front of them. The video was of a run down warehouse somewhere on the edges of Gotham Harbor. Clark couldn't make out much from the view of the front, but he sensed Bruce saw something even his eyes couldn't.
"Bruce what's going on? Is it something we need to handle?" Clark asked his friend, voice serious as he gazed at the video feed. There was a quick flash of black then the camera cut out, whoever had set off the alarm now knew they were watching.
"No its... its an old safe house, one that hasn't been used since Dick-" Bruce cut off suddenly, eyes frozen on the blank screen. The search had had no results for so long, that Bruce didn't trust the swell of hope in his chest. But it was there regardless. Clark saw the brief flicker of emotion in his best friend's eyes, that was a lot for the Batman, and knew where his mind was. Even after they'd called off the official search, Clark knew Bruce never truly stopped. That he followed every dead end and cold lead he'd find, Clark helped when he could but mostly because he worried for Bruce. After that first year and Dick's message, Clark knew that the only way they'd find Dick was if he wanted to be found. So he played the waiting game, hoping that the boy he'd watched grow up would come back soon. And it seemed he did.
"So lets go check it out, maybe he's come home." Clark said cautiously, not wanting to upset Bruce. The Dark Knight didn't trust hope and was pessimistic about most things.
"Maybe. Or maybe a lowlife thug just broke into the wrong warehouse." Batman's voice was clipped and dark. Clark winced hoping that wasn't the case, cause he worried about the hypothetical intruder if it were. Batman read out the coordinates and hoped into the Batmobile, Clark deciding to fly and meet him there. It was telling that Bruce didn't put up any fight against his involvement. And with that they were off.