A/N: Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts, thoughts of self-harm, self-imposed victim-blaming, and both the near-miss of a sexual assault of a minor and recollections of previous incidents.
Chapter 26: Nothing
Bruce was frantic, rushing from place-to-place in the batcave, slamming buttons on the computer whenever he passed it, racing to someplace out of sight Jason said they weren't allowed to go. Wally had long given up on trying to help him with whatever he was doing. He and Jason had suited up to start canvassing the city for Dick, but they weren't about to go without Bruce's approval.
All Wally really knew was that Dick's bike was gone and had been ditched in the city, which presumably meant he had left the cave voluntarily. Wally hadn't heard from him since receiving his worryingly matter-of-fact message about the trial that requested he stay home. Wally hadn't wanted to disrespect Dick's boundaries at such a stressful time, but he was starting to think he should've called at the very least.
If Dick was doing what Wally thought he was doing...
Bruce stormed back into the main chamber from where he'd disappeared to. "The Red Hood's uniform is missing."
"Shit," Wally muttered. His fears were realised.
Bruce charged over to the computer again. "He accessed files on all the defendants without triggering an alert in the system. He has their addresses."
"Let me help," Wally said. "I can cover more ground on foot than you can. And I've talked him down before."
Bruce spun around in the chair, fixing him with a heavy gaze. "Are you prepared to take him down if he won't yield?"
The thought was sickening, but Wally knew Bruce was just covering all his bases. "If I have to. But I'm hoping it won't come to that."
Bruce pressed a button on the keyboard and the screen on Wally's costume lit up. "You have the addresses. Don't be seen. Don't let Dick be seen. I will take the batmobile into the city and monitor the police scanner and your communicator. Jason, stay here and do the same."
Alfred descended the steps from the manor. "Master Wally, I have prepared some snacks to maintain your energy levels." He passed a few small wrapped items that fit easily into Wally's storage compartments on his gloves.
"How did Dick get past the vault security?" Jason asked.
"He looped old security footage and found a recording of my voice to open the door." Bruce growled, surged to his feet and stormed towards the batmobile. "He shouldn't have been able to do it. My security is more sophisticated than that."
"A lot of that's been going around lately," Jason muttered.
"This is Dick we're talking about," said Wally. "He's been training to break into things since he was a kid. And he's obviously desperate."
"I can hardly blame him," Jason said quietly. Only Wally heard him.
Bruce was in full-Batman mode, firing up the batmobile. Wally pulled on his cowl and sped out of the batcave.
He only hoped he'd find Dick before he did something terrible.
Dick was hidden behind a brick chimney, on a roof that overlooked Skinner's expensive apartment. He wasn't sure where all the money had come from, but the man was obviously wealthy enough to afford a particularly expensive defence attorney, a high-end apartment and all the expenses that came with operating a child sex trafficking operation. The apartment kept up his identity's appearance as a well-off teacher at the top private school in the city. The man's gall at daring to work with children during the day made Dick's entire body burn.
As angry as he was, though, he wasn't sure starting with Skinner was the best option. He was the centre of the operation but there was a chance his death would result in the others going underground if he didn't act quickly or stealthily enough. The sniper rifle Dick held in his trembling hands was not a good option. Skinner was the tie to everything. It would be satisfying to take him out first, but if Dick didn't successfully take out the others before they went into hiding, it would be close to impossible to find them again without using Skinner's position in the centre of the net.
The tiniest thoughts filtered from the back of his mind. Guilt at betraying everything Bruce believed in. Guilt at not trusting Van Dorn. But he pushed them away. He wasn't doing this for the warm and fuzzies. He was doing it because it had to be done.
"Having second thoughts?"
Fuck. Dick had been distracted and hadn't noticed Wally's—Kid Flash's—approach. That was inexcusable.
"Not really," Dick replied calmly, ignoring the drumming of his heart. "Just considering whether I should start here or somewhere else."
Wally rested his back against the half of the chimney Dick wasn't using. His uniform was in stealth mode, for obvious reasons. He'd forgotten his goggles. Dick was grateful for his helmet; he couldn't let Wally know how shaken he was.
"Pros and cons?"
Huh. Wally was playing along. For now.
"Taking Skinner out first would cause confusion among the others," Dick answered. "It'll take them time to choose a new leader, and the chaos could be good for any potential victims."
"And cons?"
"It could also drive the others underground before I can find them. Without having access to Skinner, finding them could be difficult, if not impossible. The people left behind could also take it out on any children already in their custody."
"I love no-win situations," Wally said with a bucketload of false cheer. "A lot of those going around lately. Like trying to decide whether to trust the experienced district attorney investigating a certain jury's verdict, or taking the law into your own hands and falling back into old, very destructive habits."
"Bruce told you Van Dorn's looking into it," Dick assumed. "She's good at her job, but these people have connections we obviously don't know about yet. Every second wasted on a lawyer's investigation could cost lives."
"So you don't trust Van Dorn to do her job."
"Not enough that I'd be willing to put children on the line. Or myself. I can't sleep until they're dealt with, and undoubtedly neither can the others. If they haven't been re-abducted or killed already."
Dick's finger itched to pull that trigger. But a sniper shot wouldn't go unnoticed. If he was going to take Skinner out first, he'd have to get into the apartment and kill him up close and personal. Probably a chokehold. He couldn't risk making a mess. If he kept it clean and quiet, he could hide the body and buy himself some time before the others found out.
Wally pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "Okay, look. You've got a point. But are you sure this is the best way to stop Skinner and the others from hurting people? Couldn't we, you know, just keep an eye on them?"
"And risk someone slipping through the cracks? No. I'm doing what needs to be done." As he said that, he disassembled the rifle and put it back in its case, then strapped it onto his back. He wouldn't be using it here. With Wally present, he couldn't get into the house and kill Skinner before being stopped. He'd have to escape and go after someone else.
"Dick. This isn't necessary."
"Someone needs to protect the kids caught up in this, Wally. I've failed them too many times to just walk away." Dick, activated a sealing system in his helmet, pushed off the chimney and stepped into Wally's personal space, slowly pulling a low-grade tear gas smoke pellet from his pocket. "I know you're trying to stop me from going back into the place I was when I first came back to Gotham. I appreciate what you're trying to do, okay? But this is more important than I am. And you. I'm sorry." Dick threw the pellet to the ground and darted away.
As hoped, the spiked smoke hit Wally's system immediately, reducing him to a coughing mess. Dick shot a line to the next rooftop and legged it before he had a chance to recover.
He had already planned the next destination: Brian White. Another apartment, this time with a huge, bold window that encapsulated the entire outside wall. The curtains were open. Careless.
This time, Dick didn't bother worrying about infiltration. He found a good perch on the edge of the building—the lights here were out so he didn't have to worry about being seen—and assembled his rifle again. He lay down on his stomach and found Brian in the scope.
He was in his bedroom, wearing nothing but boxers. Dick felt nausea build in his throat and stubbornly swallowed it down.
"Shit, babe." Wally had already caught up with him. "That was nasty."
"That was the low-grade version," Dick replied, still watching through the scope. "Bruce doesn't like hurting civilians, but if crowd control has to be done, it's good to have options."
A girl no older than twelve came into view. She was shivering, in a bra and panties. Dick's trigger finger twitched and there was acid climbing up his throat. Brian dragged her over to him and sat on the bed. The girl was in the way of Dick's shot.
"Damn it. Damn. It."
"I can get Batman," said Wally. "He'll help her and then call the police."
"So he can walk again and hurt someone else?" Dick snapped. Fuck. He didn't know if he could shoot straight even if she wasn't in the way.
"No, so the police know what's happening. I'm calling him."
"Wally."
Wally pressed the communicator in his cowl. "Hey, Batman. You know Brian White's address? You need to get in there right now because he's about to assault another kid. No, no, I've got him. It's fine."
The batmobile was pulling up to the curb in no time. Dick gritted his teeth. Brian was touching her, pulling at what little clothing she had. If the girl moved out of the way, he could still get a shot before Batman got there. He could do it. He could—
"Dick. Put down the gun. Batman's got this."
Batman shot a line up to the window and then used a small explosive to break through. He pulled the girl away in the confusion and punched Brian out.
Dick's breaths shuddered through his teeth. He set down the gun and sat up onto his knees. The helmet was suffocating him. He tore it off and slammed it onto the concrete.
"I should—I should've—"
"No, Dick." Wally knelt beside him. "You did the right thing."
It didn't feel like the right thing. But he still had gas pellets. He could escape again, take out somebody else. Someone. Anyone. He gripped the rifle as it sat on the roof, but the cold metal didn't give him any comfort.
"I'm not gonna fall for that tear gas trick again," Wally said, as he could read Dick's mind. "I'm taking you home, okay? You need to think this through and stop just acting on the pain you're feeling."
"Don't tell me what I need," Dick snapped. "Or what I'm feeling. You have no fucking idea."
"You're right. I don't. But right now, I get the feeling you barely have a handle on it yourself." Wally laid his hand over Dick's, lifting it from the gun and squeezing tightly. "You didn't even get this far when the Joker got out. You took the time to talk it out, to try and understand where the feelings were coming from. Lives were on the line then, too. Lives are always on the line when the Joker's involved. I understand you'd had some time to deal with what he did to you, and that the trauma here is fresh, but that's exactly why you need to come home and deal with it. Trust us to keep Skinner and the others in line while Van Dorn and Batman investigate."
Dick gripped Wally's hand as tightly as he could. He couldn't do that. He couldn't sit at home while other people took risks for him, while children were in danger. He had failed to get them all out alive once already; he couldn't let the rest of them down.
His stomach and chest were seizing up. The air felt thinner than it had a moment ago.
"It's all right," Wally said gently. "We'll take care of everything. I promise." He settled Dick's head on his chest, and the rest of Dick's body melted until Wally was taking nearly all his weight. "We'll get you home so you can rest and, if you're up to it, we'll bring Dinah in tomorrow. If you're not ready, you can just rest for tomorrow as well. Whatever you need."
Batman joined them once the police had arrived. He silently disassembled the rifle and put it away. Together, he and Wally got Dick into the batmobile, hidden around the corner. Wally squeezed into the car with them, and Batman drove back home.
Bruce didn't say a word to Dick for the rest of the night. Wally, Alfred and Jason brought him upstairs to his guest room while Bruce stayed in the batcave. Wally stayed with him for the night. Dick didn't sleep, and neither did he.
Come morning, Dick drank three cups of black coffee, despite Alfred's obvious disapproval, and choked down a piece of toast. He could feel it sitting in his throat, ready to come back when the time was right. Wally hovered close to him for most of the morning and Dick was forbidden from entering the batcave. Bruce still hadn't spoken to him, not that Dick really expected him to.
Dinah came around noon. With the batcave off-limits and Bruce unwilling to let Dick too far out of his sight, they ended up in a disused sitting room in the manor. Dick paced along the outside wall, sneaking glances out the window as he passed. The window had been fitted with the missile-proof glass with the rest of the windows in the manor, but it was still discomforting.
"Bruce and Wally told me what happened," Dinah said. She was seated calmly on a newly-dusted armchair. A teaset sat on the coffee table. Alfred had poured two cups of tea, neither of which had been touched since.
"I shouldn't have wasted so much time deciding where to start," Dick said, tugging the window curtains shut.
"You wouldn't have been able to kill all your targets before Wally caught up with you," Dinah replied.
"Then I should've gone into hiding when I escaped from him. He expected me to go after someone else."
"If you'd done that, you wouldn't have saved that girl," Dinah pointed out. "Your reasons for going out last night aside, you did stop something terrible from happening."
Dick couldn't argue with that, but it wasn't exactly the point. "She shouldn't have been in that position in the first place."
"I know. But you did the right thing and let Batman save her."
"I didn't have a choice," Dick snapped. "She was in the way of my shot. What sort of bastard would I be if I'd shot anyway?"
"Judging from Wally's recounting of your conversations last night, it seems to me that your main motivation for putting on the Red Hood costume again was to protect the other children," Dinah surmised. Correctly.
"The police can't do much to protect them if the people they need protection from aren't even considered criminals," Dick replied irritably. "I don't know if catching Brian White in the act will be enough to get them off their asses. The only sure way to protect the others is if I go straight to the source and destroy it."
Dinah wrote something on her notepad. "I can see a pattern emerging. You weren't particularly excited about testifying at the trial, yet you forced yourself to do it. Why?"
"The prosecution thought I had the best chance of being taken seriously as a witness, aside from Lex Luthor," Dick replied. "But Luthor is an amoral opportunist, and everyone knows it. So it was important to have a humanising element to the case, but most of the other kids weren't up to answering questions."
"So you stepped up," said Dinah. "Did you do this for yourself? For the children?"
"Both," Dick admitted. "I know I can't start trying to put this behind me until the people who put me in this position are out of the picture, either dead or behind bars. I don't care which. I don't doubt the other victims feel the same way. And I can't stomach the thought of any more children being victimised by those men. I can't let them hurt anyone else while Van Dorn does things the legal way. It'll take too long. It's already taking too long. Anything that doesn't have an immediate result in getting these men off the street is not acceptable. Every second we waste behind desks and writing letters or whatever the hell happens in a corruption investigation is another second that puts children in danger. They've been through enough. I've been through enough. And I've failed to protect them far too many times already."
"And there's the heart of it," Dinah said, scribbling down another note. "Guilt. That's what this has been about since before the beginning of the trial."
Dinah's words were a knife in the guts, but they weren't wrong. There were so many dead. So many left broken. Because Dick couldn't help them.
"Dick." Dinah set her notepad aside. "You know nobody blames you for what happened. You did more than any of us could have expected."
"I blame me," Dick replied, through a suddenly constricted throat. "There were times when I could've stepped in, but I didn't. Because I didn't think it'd make a difference. Because I was afraid they'd turn their wrath on me next." He slumped against the curtain, knocking his head against the glass behind it. "I could've saved Brandon. And Bethany might've survived her illness if she hadn't just seen her brother beaten to death in front of her. If I hadn't tried to kill myself when I did, Lex Luthor would've been able to talk to me sooner and I could've told him to have the police get us all out and maybe then those children who died in that explosion would still be alive and I wouldn't be the only person capable of testifying to the degree needed in that trial because Amber would've been there and she was so much more put-together than I am and there's no way they could've shaken her on that witness stand no matter how hard they tried but no she's fucking dead and I don't... I don't..." Dick couldn't find words anymore. He punched the wall. And then again. And again and again and again, knuckles screaming, and he screamed too, until he couldn't find the air anymore.
"Dick. Take a breath."
His knuckles were bleeding. His breaths snagged in his throat.
Dinah appeared at his side, pressing a napkin against the back of his hand. "Come sit down." He steered him over to the couch. "May I call Alfred? He should take a look at your hand."
He couldn't respond. There was nothing left of him. Dinah just sat with him for a while, holding the napkin in place. Dick slowly regained awareness of himself. His knuckles stung. His chest ached. His eyes felt like sandpaper. His mouth was cotton.
He swallowed. "I failed them."
"It wasn't your job to save them, Dick," Dinah said gently. "That you saved anyone at all in such a horrific situation is remarkable. There are dozens of children who owe you their lives. I know you wanted to save everyone, and it's going to take time for you to come to terms with what happened, but you were incredible."
"I shouldn't have testified."
"You did nothing wrong," Dinah insisted. "The trial failed because the defendants bribed and threatened the right people. Corruption destroyed that trial, not you. It is not up to you to fix the mess they created. Bruce will go out every night to investigate the jury and make sure the defendants stay in line while Van Dorn gets things done from her end. You need to stay safe, be kind to yourself and heal as much as you can."
That wasn't going to happen. Dick was rarely kind to himself. He rarely felt safe. And he sure as hell couldn't heal while Skinner and his associates were walking free. Skinner was still teaching at Gotham Academy and Bruce was reaching the end of the latitude the school usually offered him as an important patron, and had elected to use it to keep Dick out of school for the time being. It was unlikely that would last for much longer.
"None of those are really on the table right now," Dick finally said in response to Dinah's advice.
"All right. Let's see what we can do in the meantime." Dinah checked under the napkin. "The bleeding seems to have stopped. Let's take care of this first, then we can talk about that."
Dinah cleaned and dressed Dick's busted knuckles herself. He hadn't broken anything, by some miracle, but the abrasions stung like a motherfucker when they came in contact with the cleaning solution.
They didn't get very far with the subsequent discussion before Dick lost what little focus he'd managed to scrounge up. The first thing Dinah had brought up was Dick's troubles with food, and even talking about it was sickening and draining. Dinah ended the session shortly thereafter, having talked with him long enough to establish Bruce was keeping him out of the batcave for obvious reasons, but the batcave was also the only place Dick felt anywhere close to safe in this place. Dinah left to discuss that with Bruce, right after walking Dick to Wally's mound of homework in the sitting room.
"Hey, babe." Wally smiled tiredly up at him. He'd managed to get pen lines on his face. "Don't mind the chaos. Just shove those books aside. I'm done with them anyway."
Dick moved the books to the floor, right beside the coffee table, and sat in the freed spot on the couch. "You've been attacked my the ink monster."
Wally wiped his face, which didn't do much to remove the pen. "I drew on myself again, didn't I?"
"I think you need sleep."
"Pff. Who sleeps these days?"
"You're asking the wrong person, Wally."
Wally flipped his books shut, threw his pen down and fell bonelessly against the couch cushions with a long groan. "I wanna sleep. Do you wanna sleep?"
"God, yes." Dick wanted to sleep for a decade. If he could sleep in this house at all after losing his shit in front of Dinah today.
He helped Wally carry his mountain of books with them to Dick's room. Wally barely ever slept in his own room anyway, except when Dick specifically asked for space. And Dick often ended up asking him to come back halfway through the night.
The pair were already dressed down enough—sweatpants, t-shirts and sweaters—for sleep, so undressing was a non-issue. Dick honestly didn't know how he would've coped with that today, even though he knew Wally would be more than willing to leave the room to give him privacy. It was just not a good day for much of anything.
Wally fluffed up his pillow as Dick climbed under the covers. "Did you want to talk about anything? Or should we save that for later?"
Dick pulled the covers over his shoulders and curled up beneath them. "I freaked out and punched a wall."
"Oh. Right. Hand. I swear I was going to ask, but then I forgot. I'm tired. And my brain hurts."
"You're forgiven." Dick found listening to Wally's rambling quite relaxing.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know. Talking about it all the first time took a lot out of me."
"Okay." Wally finally got under the covers himself. "Do you feel up to cuddles? I've been told my cuddles are magic."
"I told you that, Wally. Years ago. When I was recovering from Joker toxin and you barged into the batcave insisting I get some Wally-approved cuddle time. Bruce teased me about it for weeks. And the more I think about it, the more I think he knew I liked you before I knew I liked you. And now that memory has about a dozen new layers of mortification. So thanks for bringing it up."
"I'll treasure that memory forever. And I'm totally going to ask Bruce about it when things have died down a bit because I can't imagine that man teasing anyone. And about a crush you didn't know you had, no less."
Dick snorted. It felt good.
"Can't say I'm surprised, though," Wally continued. "Everybody loves me."
"Oh, Wally." Dick could feel the giggles coming on, which felt really weird considering the heaviness of the day. "Thank God you're pretty."
"Thank you. I am very pretty."
Dick flopped down on top of Wally, mostly to shut up him but also because he damn well wanted to. "Uh-huh. Sleep now."
Wally's arms folded around him. "Yes, sir."
The nightmares ensured neither Dick nor Wally got to sleep for long. Dick had torn up his pillow before he was fully awake, while Wally tried to divide his time between calming him down and rescuing the remaining pillows.
By the time Dick regained some semblance of awareness, he'd managed to scatter the feathers across the room. A few ended up in his mouth, and he spat them out. Wally had one in his hair.
Dick grabbed a fistful of feathers. His fingernails bit into his palm, but he could barely feel it through the fog in his brain. And to think it was only last night when things had seemed so clear...
Wally started brushing the feathers into the tattered remains of the pillowcase. "It's all right. I'll deal with it."
Dick dropped his feathers into the pillowcase. Thinking was hard. So was moving. His arm fell limp to his side and he watched in silence as Wally gathered up the mess and dropped it into the empty wastepaper basket to dispose of later.
Dick shouldn't have taken that nap. He felt worse now than he had before.
Wally sat in the centre of the bed next to Dick, who was staring at the spot the pillow had been. "Hey. You look drained. Do you feel up to talking?"
Dick shook his head. He'd be okay with never talking or moving or doing anything ever again.
"Okay. That's okay. I saved some pillows. Did you want to lie back down?"
Dick shook his head. Not here.
"How about somewhere else?"
Dick shrugged. Maybe.
"My room?"
Dick shrugged a maybe again.
"Or I could try talking to Bruce and convince him to let us in your room in the batcave? If you feel up to climbing the ladder."
That sounded better, actually, so Dick nodded. He'd deal with the moving thing somehow.
"Okay. I'll call Alfred. He's got way more pull with the big guy than I do."
Dick let him do that. Focusing on every word of the ensuing conversation was too much for him, so he zoned out a bit, until Wally said his name probably several times but he only noticed the last three or so.
As soon as he had Dick's attention, Wally said, "Bruce wants to talk to you first. Are you-?"
Dick shook his head. Absolutely not. Wally was more than enough for him.
"Okay, that's a no," Wally said into his phone. "He's not up to it right now. Maybe later, but I'm not promising anything. He's completely non-verbal, so we're down to yes or no questions anyway. Yeah, yeah, I'll keep an eye on him. I always do. Yes, I'm positive. He's not a threat to anyone. I just want to get him somewhere he feels safe, and that's not the manor. Okay. Good. No, we can get down there ourselves. I don't think being near him is a good idea until he's feeling better. Yes. Okay. Bye." Wally hung up. It was only after the conversation was finished that Dick registered Alfred must've handed the phone over to Bruce at some point, rather than just relaying requests second-hand.
Wally helped Dick into his shoes and then led him gently through the manor and the drawing room, down into the batcave. What little energy Dick had collected was almost depleted by the time they reached the ladder.
Wally noticed Dick's hesitation. "We could rest down here for a bit if you want."
Dick didn't want to, but he honestly didn't have the strength to climb the ladder yet. Wally dashed off and brought back a pair of folding chairs. They sat there for a while, shivering a little in the cold. Dick's hands shook, having nothing to do with the temperature.
Wally reached out. "May I?"
Dick nodded. Wally covered Dick's hands with his. The shaking subsided over time, and Dick eventually felt well enough to climb the ladder.
They parted a set of newly-added black curtains to find a rectangular packet lying on the mattress. Wally picked it up.
"A weighted blanket?"
"Oh," Dick said, and took it from Wally's hands, skimming the label for a moment before speaking again. "Bruce ordered it for me. He thought it'd work like the blanket-piling and help me feel more secure. I think this is one of the lighter varieties, so I might still have to..." He noticed Wally watching him with way more warmth than a discussion about blankets really warranted. "...Yes?"
"Nothing. You're talking again, is all."
"Don't get excited. I don't feel like keeping it up." Dick opened the packet and pulled out the blanket. It was soft, kind of squishy in a pleasant way.
"That's okay. The yes, no, maybe system we had going on before worked pretty well."
Dick laid the blanket over the mattress. It was thicker than a normal blanket and obviously much heavier, but he still felt like he'd need more than one blanket to feel properly secure.
"Maybe try it by itself first?" Wally suggested. "I can stick more blankets on you if it's not enough."
They experimented for a bit, before finally settling on just two particularly heavy additional blankets, which Dick could always remove if he got too hot or smothered. With that settled, Dick curled up under the blankets while Wally brought his homework over in three super-speed trips and picked up where he'd left off.
The new curtains blocked out most of the ambient noise from the cave, so for a while the only sounds were the scratching of the pen, the shuffling of papers and the occasional curse word from Wally.
Alfred brought up a small amount of food every so often. Shortly after dinnertime, Bruce showed up. Dick still wasn't really prepared to see him after what had almost happened the previous night.
"I told you Dick wasn't up to talking," Wally said irritably.
"I can't leave for patrol until we've addressed the situation," Bruce replied.
"He's not going to run off with me here," Wally pointed out. "He was only able to get out last night because nobody was down here with him."
Dick could see Bruce wasn't going to back down, though, so he touched Wally's arm. "It's okay, Wally. If he wants to talk, we can talk." His voice was a little hoarse from disuse.
"Dinah doesn't believe you'll try again," Bruce said. "Not immediately. She has some long-term concerns if the district attorney can't find enough evidence to reopen the investigation. I've made allowances in the past because you didn't have access to the support you needed, and you were willing to stop killing once you received it."
"Bruce," Wally warned. "This is not the time."
"I didn't know about a large group of children in danger from a bunch of men the legal system let walk free back then," Dick said.
"It's not our place to be-"
"-judge, jury and executioner," Dick finished. "I know. But can you promise me no children will be harmed while Van Dorn does her job?"
"You know I can't promise that."
"That's not good enough. If you can't protect them, I will." Dick's insides were shredded and, God, he was tired. But he would do what he had to do, even if it destroyed him in the process.
"Dick, if you leave this house to try again, I will turn you over to the authorities," Bruce said. "Even if you escape from me, you will no longer be welcome here, and I will hunt you down."
Dick had been separated from his family before. It had ached, like a scar that could never heal properly. There had been something hollow in him that could only be filled by the people he loved. He hadn't known exactly what was missing at the time—he'd thought the Joker had taken something away when he murdered Robin—and coming back here into the love and the connection had made him realise how much he missed everyone. He didn't know if he could take that again. But his own needs were secondary now. Maybe he was never meant to be whole. Maybe that was just how it had to be.
"Bruce, enough," Wally snapped. "Don't you have people to protect? The same people Dick's seriously considering ruining his life over?"
"I don't want him going anywhere alone. I'll know." Bruce stepped back through the curtain, leaving them alone again.
Dick pressed his hands over his face. What if he couldn't take all of them out? What if Van Dorn got the case reopened with only half the defendants still alive? What if Dick ended up in the same prison as them? What if-
"Babe." Warm fingers encircled Dick's wrists. "He shouldn't have dumped that on you."
"I want to betray everything he believes in," Dick murmured through his fingers. "He had every right to be that harsh."
"You don't have to do it," Wally said. "You don't have to destroy yourself over this. They're terrible people, yeah, but they're not worth it."
"It's not just about them," Dick muttered. "It's about their victims, too. I can stop Skinner and his people from hurting anyone else."
"Babe, you've done a lot already." Wally squeezed gently, just enough to keep Dick grounded in the here and now. "And I know you'll do even more when there's a retrial."
"It's not enough. It's never..." He thought about what he'd said to Dinah earlier. All the children he couldn't save. The guilt was almost tangible, eating him up from the inside. He didn't know how to make it stop, but the beast had quieted for a while when he was out there, preparing his plans to take out Skinner without alerting anyone. When he'd held that sniper rifle in his hands, up until the point where he had to give in and let Batman take over, lest he risk that girl's life.
"It hurts you that you couldn't save everyone, doesn't it?" Wally said softly. Everything inside Dick ached. He had failed so many, and every moment he wasn't protecting them was yet another failure. He couldn't even take care of himself, let alone the dozens of children who needed him.
"I should've done more. I could've done more. If I hadn't been so scared, or if I hadn't thought it wouldn't make a difference." He'd covered all this with Dinah already.
"You had to make tough calls," Wally said. "I get that. I heard your testimony, remember? You were in a bad situation. You did what you could. Everything else was up to the people around you. Imagine if Luke hadn't lied to us when we came to get you that first time? Imagine if one of the clients before Luthor had grown a conscience? Imagine if Skinner had fallen to pieces when Batman interrogated him? There are so many different factors here. You were only one piece of an entire puzzle of... well, I've lost the metaphor but you get my meaning, right? I know you don't like things being out of your control any more than Bruce does, but that's the truth. You're being way too hard on yourself. You did the best you could with what you had. You don't need to throw your life away to fix things that weren't even your fault."
Dick wasn't sure he could accept that. Skinner had tried so hard to take control of his life away from him. Why couldn't he take some of that back? He wasn't just some kid thrown into the deep end with no idea how to survive tough situations. He was trained. He should've been able to take control of the situation, but he hadn't. He couldn't even retain control over his own body; Skinner and Luke and Brian Harris and dozens upon dozens of staff and clients had seen to that.
Dick pulled out of Wally's grip. "I can't do that. I can't. I just..." He surged to his feet, Wally zipping out of the way. "I can't just give up like that. I need... I've had no control over anything for so long and I'm not going back to that. I'm not. They did everything they could to turn me into a thing, a possession, something with no agency or control or even a mind of my own and I'm not going to let them do that to me ever again."
"Dick. Sweetheart. Listen." Wally remained a respectful distance away, raising his hands placatingly. "I'm not asking you to do that. Just... think, okay? You told me about how you first started killing. Because Skinner and the others had you trapped. You killed to escape. And you went back with Iman to kill more of them. You were thirteen. You'd never killed before. And now you're going back into that place, because of the same person. I mean, there's no guarantee you would've become the Red Hood or killed anyone at all if they hadn't done what they did to you. And they've done something similar this time, and you're putting the Red Hood back on again. Because of them."
"Because children are at risk," Dick shot back. But the words were bruising, despite his protestations.
"Bruce can protect them," Wally replied. "He's Batman. He's completely invested in protecting them, not only because they need protection, but because it means so much to you. He's got it covered, okay? You don't have to let Skinner and the others push you back into that place."
"Then what do I do?" Dick hadn't meant the words to come out so quietly, but breathing was getting difficult. "I don't have anything else. Do I just sit at home, terrified of every sound? Do I just bury myself in these fucking blankets and try to make the nightmares go away? Do I try to choke down food, day in and day out, when I barely look at a piece of bread without wanting to vomit? Wally, I am nothing here. Nothing but a fucking shell of a human being who can't even cope with taking a goddamn shower. All I have is my anger. That's the only thing that stops me from falling to pieces. Or cutting my fucking veins open and just letting my heart beat itself to death."
"We'll help you find yourself again," Wally promised. "I'm here. Alfred's here. Jason's here. Bruce. Dinah. The team. Anyone you want, you can have. We all care about you. We all want you to heal."
"I can't heal," Dick choked out. The aches inside him were becoming intolerable. He wanted to claw himself open and rip out all his organs until they stopped hurting. "If I can't go out and stop the others from getting hurt, I can't do anything."
"That's not true," Wally said gently. "You don't need to try and heal yourself before you're ready, but there are people who love you who can be here for you until you are. And we'll still be here when you're healing, and after. We'll get that retrial, and we'll get those bastards the jail time they deserve. You don't have to let them turn you into a killer again."
Dick didn't know what to do anymore. The memories were pressing hard against the little box in his brain he tried to keep them in, and his insides still ached. Even if he wanted to go out and take Skinner and his people down, he didn't have the strength anymore.
Wally caught him when he collapsed, and set him down gently on the bed. Dick burrowed into him, squeezing tight. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. Existing hurt.
He was weak. He was nothing.