Filled the "Touch Starved" square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo. Originally posted on AO3. No slash.
Tati means Dad in some Eastern European languages.
Light summer air breezes through the trailer's windows. The sun is shining, dipping down in the sky, which Dick can see is turning all sorts of pretty colors, There are hardly any clouds at all, but smoke is rising from the circus' grill, where Mattie the contortionist is making everyone their end of the summer burgers. Practically able to taste it already, Dick wonders if Mattie's telling the truth when they say they're as world famous as the Graysons are. Probably, he decides, impatiently tumbling around the living room.
He wants to go out there, wants to joke around and be with his friends. Eating Mattie's world famous burgers. Telling Pop Haly about how he managed what Mama called a double layout. He wants to tell Pop Haly how Tati was so impressed, he nearly cried like a big baby. But noooo, Mama is keeping him in here, making him wait until her and Tati are done talking. His protests of being old enough to be alone with everyone were ignored, and he was left here in the living room.
Annoyed, he rolls to a stop, laying on his back on the floor. He's dressed in his best overalls, which Tati said make him look "cute as a button", and he's hungry and he's bored and he's so tired of waiting.
"Mama," he calls out, "Are you guys ready yet?"
Instead of answering, Tati walks out of their bedroom, wearing his nice clothes. The end of the summer gathering isn't anything fancy, but everyone likes to look nice anyway. It's a celebration, and Dick is ready to get celebrating. He gives Tati a pouty look, reaching his hands up like he's a baby. Laughing, Tati comes and heaves him off the ground, letting him fly a little before catching him.
Tati's arms are strong and warm, and they hold Dick close to his chest. He's too old to be held, but not too big, and even if he was, he likes this way too much. Likes the way he feels protected and loved in his Tati's embrace. Sighing happily, he sinks into it, his own arms wrapping loosely around Tati's neck.
"Just another moment, baby," he says into Dick's hair. "Then we can go and you can have some fun, alright?"
"Yeah, Tati."
They don't say anything else, but Tati starts humming a song they both love and dancing around the living room, swaying them back and forth. Dick's not tired, but it relaxes him more than anything else except maybe when Mama does it.
Mama comes out after a few spins, and she smiles at them, bright and happy and loving. She opens her arms, and Dick leaps from Tati to Mama, a practiced move, hugging her the same way he hugged Tati. "Can we go now?" He whines, pulling away a little.
Mama and Tati share an exasperated look, but then Tati goes and opens the door so Mama and him can finally, finally go outside.
All their friends are gathered around, and when they see the latecomers, they laugh and smile and greet them happily. The sun is still shining, the sky a pretty mix of pink and blue, and everything is lined golden. The grounds are packed, picnic tables spread out for everyone, and even the animals are eating, Zitka making happy noises as she munches down on the other side of the area.
Dick wiggles down out of his Mama's arms and runs around, speaking to just about everybody. He hugs them, too, climbs on the shoulders of the strongman and pokes the clowns and lets the bearded woman wipe his chin when he gets jam all over it.
When he finally gets to Mattie, he tugs on their apron, already starting to say, "Can I please have mine medi—"
Mattie turns around, and instead of their signature smile, all Dick sees is the face of Tony Zucco.
He stumbles back, a shocked gasp falling from his mouth. Then Mattie—Zucco takes a step forward, and Dick jerks awake, nearly tumbling out of his bed. It's not his bed in the trailer—it's the one in Wayne Manor. And the Manor doesn't feel like home, not the way the trailer did. He was getting used to juvie, as much as anyone possibly can, and then he'd been brought here, another unfamiliar place.
It's nice, but his room is so big, so dark, and it's cold. Moonlight streams in through the window, the curtains pulled back the way he likes, and there's two whole night lights in here, but it's not enough. Not enough to distract him from his dream, reassure him Mattie would never be anything like Tony Zucco, reassure him he's okay.
Curling up under the sheets, he longs for the blankets he used to have. He got to keep his baby blanket, but that's it—all the others would've been distributed around the circus or sold to pawn shops. That's how it is with all of the belongings they had, actually, except for a few other things. But he hates thinking about it, hates it even more when the backdrop is the walls of this room.
He's real grateful to Bruce, helping him with his parents' killer, giving him a place to stay where no one will hurt him. But the room is creepy, and too big, and quiet, and he hates it. Bruce is all the way down the hall, Alfred in a different wing all together, and he's never been so alone at night before. The only sounds are his own breathing, the sheets moving, the owls outside hooting.
Gingerly, he sits up, scanning the shadowy corners.
One of the things he got to keep was his stuffed elephant, and though she was originally named Ellinor, he calls her Zitka now. If he's honest, she's basically his only friend.
Alfred is nice, and he's always around when Dick needs him, willing to help or care for him. But he's not like Dick's old friends—he doesn't really touch Dick at all, unless he has to hold Dick's chin and wipe his cheeks. His hands are firmer than the bearded lady's, and he doesn't coo while he does it like she did. And Bruce…Bruce is nice too. And he makes Dick hold his hand when they cross the street, but anywhere else, and he shies away from Dick like he's got cooties or something. They sit across the dinner table from each other, and he always asks how Dick's day was but never seems to be interested. Neither of them are anything like his old friends at all.
Zitka, though? She lets him hug her all he wants. And when he gets scared at night, he cuddles up with her and feels less alone. It's what he wants right now, what he wants, and while she's usually there when he falls asleep, she's not tonight.
He has to tiptoe out of bed to get her from where she sits on his dresser, his poor toes freezing from how cold the floor is. But once she's in his arms, he feels better, enough that he can ignore the feeling. Maybe he should start sleeping with socks on. Mama used to joke that people who wear socks to sleep are weird, but he thinks she'd understand.
Jumping back into bed, he ducks under the covers, curling up in a ball with Zitka close to his chest. Just like how Tati used to hold him.
Bruce carried him up to bed a few nights ago, and he didn't hold Dick the way Tati did. But it was still nice, big arms keeping him steady. He tries to mimic the feeling of Tati's and Bruce's arms on Zitka, tries to become the protector instead of the protected. The holder instead of the held. It's different, but so is everything else.
Closing his eyes, he sighs, the sound filling up his whole room and echoing against the walls. He feels small and hollow, but he tells himself he's just gonna have to get used to it.
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