He Just Wanted Some Flatbread

by daydreamer1227

Robin had long dreamt about the day he could have his teammates over to Wayne Manor as friends, with no secret identities between them, but he'd never for a second considered that he would dread it so much.

"Man we are good!" cried Wally, fists in the air as he boarded the bioship.

"Maybe wait to gloat until the door is shut, Kid Flash," said Kaldur.

Robin summersaulted inside with a cackle after Wally.

"Showoff," muttered Artemis.

"Oh, come on," said Wally, high-fiving Robin. "We took down Klarion in record time! We deserve to celebrate!"

Kaldur frowned. "I doubt Batman would approve."

"Batman doesn't have to know," said Wally. "We won't do anything crazy, just-Let's go out for pizza or something. You know, team bonding."

"Pizza?" said Connor.

Wally's eyes went wide. "Please tell me you've had pizza before, Supes."

"It's a food?"

Kaldur sighed. "I believe it is a form of flatbread."

"A form of–" Wally choked. "You've never had pizza either, Kal?"

"He's Atlantean, dingus," said Artemis. "Eat some wet pizza and see how you like it."

"I've seen humans eat the flatbread on television," said M'gann, closing the door of the Bioship behind her and buckling in.

"All right, first," said Wally, "for the love of God, please stop calling it flatbread. It's unacceptable. Second, I can't be on a team where only half of us have tasted the greatest food of all creation! Rob?"

"I could eat."

"Then it's settled."

"Nothing's settled," said Artemis.

"Right, you probably don't even like pizza," said Wally, "since you hate everything fun and awesome."

"I had pizza for breakfast."

"I bet I could eat more pizza than you."

"No shit, dipstick, you're a speedster with the metabolism of the damn Energizer Bunny."

"I would like to try some flatbread," said Connor.

"Supey's in!" cried Wally.

Kaldur sighed. "Fine. We'll stop for flatbread after we've reported to Batman and gotten out of uniform."

M'gann piloted the ship back to the Mountain where they reported to Batman, who didn't offer them so much as a 'well done.'

"Man. What's it take to please that guy?" asked Wally.

Robin snorted. "Welcome to my world."

They changed into their civvies and zeta'd to Central City for Antico Pizza Napoleatanna, which, according to Wally, had the best pizza in the country.

Wally snickered when Robin tripped on the curb outside the restaurant. Rob flipped him off, which was fair. Wearing sunglasses in the dark was a bitch.

There was a film crew at the theatre across the street covering some movie premier, so they opted to eat inside where it wasn't quite so crowded. It turned out Wally was right about one thing – it was the best pizza Robin ever had. Connor and Kaldur enjoyed it too, but M'gann loved it and promised to make it for them at the Mountain. They somehow managed to drum up enough fake excitement to be convincing – M'gann beamed – but none of them were particularly looking forward to burnt pizza, except maybe Connor, who seemed to have acquired a taste for all things black and crispy.

Wally ended up being right about another thing – it really was a fun night out as a team, and as much as they made fun of Kal for overly using the words 'team bonding' in casual conversation, that's exactly what they ended up doing. They bonded over cheese and pepperoni flatbread.

It was about a half-hour into their meal that things fell apart, and it started with a whisper. Robin was pulled into the surrounding conversation by the sound of his own name.

"–Richard Grayson?"

"Is it? I can't tell."

"No, the hair's all wrong."

"I swear it's him."

Something cold and hard settled in Robin's stomach. He stood, the scraping of his chair bringing the conversation at his table to a halt.

Wally frowned. "Dude, are you okay?"

"I have to go."

"You're bailing again?" said Artemis, annoyed.

More eyes were on their table as the whispers grew louder and more confident.

Robin fled towards the exit in a panic. As much as he griped to Batman about keeping his identity a secret from the team, he wasn't ready for them to know, at least not like this. But if there was one thing Dick Grayson was never able to escape, it was the paparazzi. They waited for him outside his school, his mathlete tournaments, his house – but they weren't supposed to recognize him in his civvies, that was the whole fucking point.

A man with his teenage daughter swiftly stepped in front of him, blocking the way out. "Excuse me," the man said, "are you Richard Grayson? It's just, my daughter is a mathlete, too. The best in her school. I know Mr. Wayne gives out that scholarship for Gotham Academy–"

"There's an application," said Robin.

"Yes, I know, but I thought, maybe if you could talk to him…"

"I don't have a say in the selection process."

"Yes, but–"

"If you'll excuse me," said Robin, sidestepping the man. He had to get out of there, before–

The man caught his shoulder and turned him back around. "My daughter deserves to go to that Academy. Do you think less of her just because she can't afford it?"

"I never said that."

"Excuse me," said a young woman who approached from a table of giggling teenagers egging her on. "You're Richard Grayson, right? Could I get a photo with you?"

"I–" He didn't know what to do. "I really have to go…"

There was the flash of a camera from a table to his left.

"Look, I'm sure you're a reasonable kid," said the man, cornering him against the wall. "Just spend some time with my daughter and you'll see for yourself that she deserves that scholarship just as much as anyone else."

"Hey! He said there's an application," snapped a familiar voice. "Fill it out like everyone else." As fiery as his hair, Wally marched to stand at his friend's side with his arms crossed.

"Thanks, Wally," muttered Dick, eyes to the floor.

"No problem," said Wally.

Dick was sure the rest of the team was there, but he couldn't bring himself to look at them. Wally was the only one who'd known his ID, but they were all about to find out, if they hadn't already. Jesus, he and Artemis went to school together.

Wally put an arm around Dick's shoulders and led him out of the restaurant, guiding him gently.

"Mr. Grayson, wait!"

And that was the final nail in the coffin. The reporters across the street might as well have had elephant ears the way they converged on Dick and Wally, surrounding them in an instant, shoving the team to the sidelines.

"Richard Grayson?"

"Mr. Grayson!"

"Mr. Grayson, if you could answer a few questions about this new deal at Wayne Enterprises–"

"Richard, could you comment on the ordeal last month when you went missing–"

"How much money was the ransom–"

"Mr. Grayson, what are your thoughts on being voted most eligible teen bachelor–"

"Boxers or briefs?"

"What is Bruce Wayne like as a guardian?"

"Do you ever visit your parents' graves, Mr. Grayson?"

God, Dick hated the press. Wally was shrinking into his side, not sure what to do with this situation of flashing lights and video cameras. Dick sighed and removed his sunglasses and plastered his press smile onto his face as he discreetly texted Alfred. The jig was already up.

"Sorry," he said, using the most patient and polite voice he had in his arsenal, "I'm afraid I don't have the time to answer questions right now."

"Mr. Grayson, who is your friend?"

"Are you on a date?"

"Excuse me," said Dick, trying to edge his way out from the mass. He grabbed Wally's sleeve to pull him along.

"Mr. Grayson–"

"As I've said, I'm unavailable for comments." Humoring the press wasn't pleasant, but he'd had years of practice forcing himself to smile instead of telling them to 'fuck off.' Bruce had a reputation to maintain, and Dick was part of it.

It was slow going. He and Wally managed to reunite with their team, but the press were on his heels and never stopped hammering him with questions. He caught Artemis staring at him, her eyes impossibly wide. He looked away. He would deal with her later. He scanned the street and found a club with a line of out the door. He led his friends right past the line, even as people pointed and stared.

Dick leaned in towards the bouncer and whispered in his ear. The man nodded and barked into his radio. One of the hosts met them at the door. The bouncer stepped aside and let Dick and his team enter the club. The press was stopped outside.

The club vibrated with the bass of the music as people danced and drank. The host removed the chain blocking off some stairs and led them up to a curtained VIP booth.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Grayson?" the host asked loudly over the music, flustered.

"No, thank you," said Dick, taking out some cash and handing it to him. The man's eyes went wide. It was a bit much, but Dick would have paid a million dollars for a place to hide. "We'll only be here a short while, I promise."

"Would you like anything to drink? Nothing alcoholic, of course," the man almost looked guilty that he couldn't give alcohol to a fourteen-year-old.

"We're fine, thank you."

The host nodded. "If you need anything else, I'll be at the bottom of the stairs. I'll keep anyone else from coming up here."

"Thank you."

The host left, and Dick closed the curtain around the booth and sat down next to Wally.

His entire team was staring at him. He sighed. "This is not how I wanted you guys to find out."

"You're Richard Grayson?" Artemis asked, her voice harsh. Dick couldn't tell if she was in disbelief or just angry.

"Surprise," he said weakly.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" Artemis snapped, glaring at Wally who fumbled for words. "Of course you knew," she snapped, and yup, she was definitely angry.

"Who is Richard Grayson?" Connor asked, frowning.

"Apparently, he is!" said Artemis, slumping back with her arms crossed.

"He's Bruce Wayne's ward," said M'gann, eying Robin with a furrowed brow. "Oh Robin, I'm so sorry. Your parents–"

Dick stiffened.

Kaldur looked solemn, and the anger on Artemis' face melted away. Of course it did. Everyone knew the tragic story of Richard Grayson.

"Who's Bruce Wayne?"

Except for, apparently, Connor.

"Ah, well…" M'gann looked flustered, and Dick realized that she was uncomfortable. Guilty for knowing a story that everyone knew, but that Dick hadn't had the chance to tell her himself.

"It's okay," he said.

"Bruce Wayne is one of the richest men on the planet," she said. "He sponsors the Justice League, and… and he took in Richard when his parents… when they were…"

"My parents were killed when I was eight," said Dick, looking down at his hands. He shook his head and looked up, forcing a smile onto his face. "My friends call me Dick, though. Not Richard."

"Oh, fuck," said Artemis, staring at Dick as everything else fell into place. "You! And Bruce! And– And last month, when you went missing–"

"What?" growled Connor.

"Keep your voices down," said Dick.

"Dick, you were kidnapped," said Artemis.

"Yeah, it sucked," said Dick.

"You get kidnapped a lot."

"Not something I'm proud of," he grumbled.

"You're a nerd," she continued, undeterred.

Dick felt a spark of irritation. "Okay, that's a bit–"

"You are! You're a big fat math nerd!"

Wally snickered.

"Can we move on?" snapped Dick.

"Dude, how'd you even get us in here," asked Wally, lounging back in the booth. "We're all underage."

"The Wayne name goes a long way," said Dick with a sigh. "Don't get too comfortable. We're only hiding out until Alfred gets here." There was a sinking in Dick's gut. He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. "Bruce is going to kill me."

The mood promptly sobered.

"The situation was unavoidable," said Kaldur. "You were recognized in civvies. It could have happened anywhere."

"That won't matter."

"Do you think… do you think he'll take you off the team?" asked Connor.

Dick looked up, and he felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't considered that.

"Whoa, dude," said Wally, "Do you need some water? Are you okay?"

Would Bruce do that? Would their knowing his identity make staying on too dangerous? Removing him from the team wouldn't make them forget what they'd learned. Would he have J'onn alter their memories? It was a drastic step, even for Bruce, but…

"He won't kick you off the team," said Wally, seeing right through him. "He might think about it… but he wouldn't actually do it, not if you asked him not to."

Dick's pounding heart slowed. That was right. Bruce cared. Dick would have a say in this.

"Oh my God, Dick, you were kidnapped," said Artemis again, only this time it seemed to have actually sunk in.

"You already knew Dick Grayson was kidnapped," said Dick, slightly annoyed. "You've known for weeks."

"Yeah, but I didn't know he was you."

"I know this might be the last thing you want to hear," said Kaldur, "but on behalf of the team, may I say… I am so sorry about what happened to your parents."

Dick swallowed, a lump in his throat. "Thanks, Kal."

"Those reporters sure didn't hesitate in bringing it up," said Artemis.

"They never do," said Dick.

"That must suck," she said, and Dick laughed.

"It really does!"

"I don't know how you do it. I would have decked him."

"Sometimes I really, really want to."

"Hey, Dick," she said, hesitating. "All those times you've been kidnapped for ransom…"

"Why don't I fight my way out?" he finished for her. He'd been expecting the question.

She nodded.

"Robin can fight. Dick can't. Our identities have to be separate. I can't risk my fighting style getting recognized, or people getting suspicious."

"So you just… let them hurt you?"

Dick hadn't ever heard it worded like that, and it left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable. "No! Well… sort of. I do fight back, but I can't go all out, you know?" Artemis' eyes shined and Dick panicked. "It's okay, though! It always turns out okay, in the end!"

"Dick, I saw the ransom video on TV."

Ah. "Right, well that… that wasn't–"

"They hurt you. A lot. You had to go to the hospital," she said, her voice shaking. "How could you not fight back?"

"It's not just me on the line," said Dick softly. "It's Bruce. It's Batman. It's the League. It's everyone I care about."

"Weren't you scared–?"

"Of course I was," snapped Dick. "It's awful, and it's scary, and I hate it!" He took a breath. "Bruce and I have a deal. If I ever feel that my life is actually in danger, I have permission to fight back with everything I've got. They're usually not that bad, though. It's just easy money for them."

"But," she said, her voice small, "but doesn't the option to fight back disappear once they get their hands on you?"

Robin didn't answer.

"What if the situation changes?" she asked. "What if you didn't feel like you were in danger, but then something happens, and you're tied up, or drugged, or unconscious–"

"It doesn't matter," said Dick, trying no to show how much her words scared him. How much he'd thought the same thing countless times, tied away in a basement and in pain after his captors had gotten a little rough.

"Doesn't matter?" she said, incredulous. "Doesn't matter?"

"In the end, Bruce always comes." Always. As Bruce, or as Batman.

Robin's phone beeped. He checked it. "Alfred's here." That was fast. He must have zeta'd to Central and rented a car.

The team followed Dick down the stairs in a disturbed silence. He thanked the host yet again, and the bouncer on their way out, then dodged the cameras and petty questions to crawl into the back of a rental limo.

The team all loaded up, too on edge to fully appreciate their ride.

The privacy screen was down, and a worried Alfred was looking through it. "Hey, Alfred," said Dick, weary.

Alfred frowned. "Is everything all right, Master Dick?"

"Alfred, meet the team. Team, this is Alfred."

"Hey Alfred," said Wally.

"A pleasure as always, Master Wallace."

"Could you take us home?"

Wally shot a surprised look at his friend, but Dick was tired, and upset, and Bruce was going to be mad, and his team was confused and deserved a better explanation, and he couldn't just leave them.

Dick had long dreamt about the day he could have his teammates over to the manor as friends, with no secret identities between them, but he'd never for a second considered that he would dread it so much.

A/N: To be continued! Please leave a review! I love to read them.