AN: I'm back a bit earlier than usual. But I was quite excited about this chapter because it goes deeper into Dick's state of mind after Bruce's actions. Spoilers: It's not good.

As always, a huge thank you to everyone who has commented!

Sunshine-Midnight123: It made me very happy that you enjoyed the outsider perspective as it can be a bit tricky to get right at times. I tried to offer a fresh perspective on Dick's and Bruce's relationship without taking away from them. And, apparently, I succeeded in that.

williamslagun: You captured the complexity of Dick's relationship with Bruce really well in one sentence! He has this tendency of justifying Bruce's behavior which is quite unhealthy. I'll touch upon it in this chapter. So, your prediction is on point.

Guest: What a huge compliment! Thank you so much. As a writer, that means a lot to me.


16. Dick

Dick was quiet when Alfred drove him to the manor. His stomach clenched at the thought of seeing Bruce again. He didn't know how to react to the man that had used him in his quest for vengeance – betraying him multiple times.

Would Bruce be angry? Or would he try to mend the tattered remains of their relationship? Bruce had never apologized to Dick for anything. In the early years, he may have changed his behavior afterwards, but he had never admitted that he was wrong. And Dick had adjusted to that. He had learnt to read Bruce moods and to know what his mentor meant.

This unbalanced scale had worked when Bruce's mistakes had been small. Minor stuff like forgetting Dick's birthday and spending the whole day in the Cave. Batman was obsessive in his mission and everyone around him had to make sacrifices for that. He had been a flawed person but in the field he always used to have Dick's back.

Now, Dick wasn't sure anymore. If Bruce abandoned him while fighting someone of Deathstroke's caliber, there was no certainty anymore. Bruce knew that Deathstroke could easily kill Dick. The mercenary generally didn't because of his weird obsession. But if he grew bored of this disturbed game they played, he would just shoot Dick. Deathstroke didn't miss. And Bruce didn't care apparently.

Alfred stopped before the manor. Dick slung his arm around himself. The building seemed to tower over him. He wasn't even inside and it was already suffocating him.

Alfred looked at him with pity. Dick hated it.

"I'm fine", Dick tried to sound unaffected, "Is he there?"

"He's been spending most of the time in his room."

"Not in the Cave?"

"He isn't allowed to."

"As if this would stop him."

No one could make Bruce do something he didn't want to. Dick had tried but he had paid the price.

Alfred said: "He's been talking to Miss Dinah. It's one of her conditions. If he wants to become Batman and join the League again, he has to obey and better himself."

"So they're blackmailing him?"

"They're trying to make him better."

Dick snorted: "Bruce is a lost cause."

"Becoming Batman again isn't the only reason he's following the rules", Alfred looked at Dick.

He was implying something Dick knew to be false. His hands wandered to his neck. The soreness had almost vanished and only faint yellow bruises were left. Dick still had nightmares about Bruce staring him down while he squeezed the life out of him. Whatever reason Bruce had for playing according to the League's rule book – Dick wasn't one of them.

Dick felt pinned down by Alfred's gaze. He opened the car door and left as quickly as his injuries (and the annoying crutches) allowed him to.

"Master Dick", Alfred hurried after him, "Take it at least slowly if you won't use the wheelchair."

Dick stopped in front of the gates sighing in frustration: "Why am I here? I could have just gone back to Blüdhaven."

"Because I want to make sure that you recover. I feel like I've been failing you, Master Dick."

Dick looked more closely at Alfred. The butler had never looked as old as now. His usually immaculate posture was showing signs of tiredness. Bruce was even wearing Alfred down with his shit. A feat in itself.

"Bruce has been failing both of us", Dick said.

Alfred's gaze wandered to his shoes, "You were too young to live on your own - still are. Especially after losing your brother. He drove you out of your home – and I let it happen."

Dick was speechless. Alfred wasn't supposed to be like this. The butler didn't bow to anyone. He was the only one who could get through Bruce's thick skull – at least sometimes. Only nerves of steel could do that.

Dick could accept it if Bruce antagonized him. His mentor had shown enough times that Dick wasn't family to him. If Bruce decided to be emotionally detached, Dick would also see him akin to a coworker – even if it hurt. (He refused to say boss after Nightwing.) He would follow the Doc's advice and keep his distance. But Alfred was undeniably family to Bruce. And making him suffer was a step too far.

Dick let go off the crutches and pulled the butler into a hug: "You did what you could. We both did."

To Dick's surprise, the butler slung his arms around him mindful of his injuries. Dick smiled. It was rare that Alfred let his guard down like that.

"Don't worry, I won't talk", Dick grinned – trying to lighten the gloomy mood.

He would get enough of that in the manor.

"What are you implying, Master Dick?"

"I won't destroy your image of a proper English gentleman."

Alfred stepped back. He smiled – almost mischievously: "You have my trust, Master Dick."

Alfred straightened his suit jacket while Dick picked his crutches back up. He was mostly using the leg that Dent's coin had hit. It hurt less than the one Crock had almost bitten off.

Dick's neck was tingling. He felt watched. Dick turned around only to see the curtain behind Bruce's window quivering. Of course. Bruce was probably reading their lips. He had forgotten how controlling living in the manor was.

Dick dragged himself towards the entrance. Alfred followed him looking at him in concern. He had missed this – kind of. The front door creaked when Alfred opened it. Another sign of Alfred's distress in the last few months. Usually, the butler would have never accepted this flaw.

Bruce's paranoid stalking would get really annoying. Dick sneakily glared at where he suspected his former mentor to be. He was doing this for Alfred. Bruce – the man who had repeatedly cast Dick aside – could go to hell.

Dick had stuck up for him long enough. It was time for him to get some self-respect. He wasn't Robin anymore. Nightwing wouldn't waste a thought on Bruce. The scale had tipped over. If Bruce wanted something, he should admit his damn mistake and approach Dick first. Dick was tired of adapting to Bruce and cleaning up after his emotional baggage.

Dick's resolve didn't last long. A few hours later, he was lying in bed waiting for sleep to come. Instead, voices of doubt creeped in. Why was Bruce so indifferent towards him?

Dick felt himself go into old thought patterns. Batman was never wrong. He had a reason for everything meaning that Dick had done something wrong. That he wasn't good enough to get Bruce's approval. Dick would laugh in desperation if Bruce turned up with another black- haired kid in the future. That would be the nail in the coffin for Dick's ego.

Dick groaned trying to focus on something different. But no mental technique could get Bruce's disappointed words out of his thoughts. They nagged at him even when he wasn't paying attention to them.

Too emotional. Too trusting. In other words: weak.

Nightwing had tried to be different than his mentor. More approachable. But where had it gotten him? Maybe Bruce was right and Nightwing's attempts at lightheartedness were signs of immaturity. Maybe it was time to grow up.

Dick pressed a pillow over his ears trying to silence the voices of doubt. They only got louder.


Dick spent most of his time sitting on the roof of the manor. Alfred crossed his arms in disapproval.

"Master Dick. You are worsening your injuries."

"It's fine, Alfie. Just enjoying the sun."

Alfred shook his head mumbling something about this family giving him a heart attack. He went back into the manor.

Dick was left pondering. It didn't help that his neck was tingling. He had been feeling like someone was watching him for quite a while now – someone different than Bruce. That someone did a surprisingly good job at staying undetected. But Dick had seen flashes of them.

He had avoided confrontation until now because he couldn't deal with that kind of stuff in his screwed-up state. But now he was tired of the constant feeling of being watched. It wouldn't vanish with the unknown stalker. Bruce would make sure of that. But at least Dick knew what to expect from Bruce.

Dick subtly examined the garden spotting a bit of black hair behind a bush. He threw his crutches to the patio below him. Alfred would be so angry if he could see his disregard for the expensive tiles. Dick climbed down using mostly his arms and trying not to step on his bad leg. His rips were still burning. But Dick ignored it.

He picked up his crutches and stepped towards the bush ready to use them to defend himself. A small boy flinched back when Dick's crutch was close to his face. His hair was pitch black (just as Dick's and Jason's) and he looked at Dick with wide blue eyes. Dick wondered how the kid got through Bruce's security system. He couldn't be older than twelve.

The boy shivered and his gaze flew around the garden looking for escapes. Sheepishly, Dick put the crutch back on the floor.

"Sorry", Dick said, "I expected someone more intimidating."

The kid opened his mouth but only stutter came out. He stared at the house as if he feared for any of the adults to return.

"It's fine, kid", Dick smiled his Grayson-smile, "I won't rat you out."

It seemed to make the boy less tense. He was clutching at a camera. Quite an expensive piece of equipment. The kind of stuff Bruce had given Dick when he was younger. It had always made him uncomfortable. Bruce had tried to develop the spoiled-rich-kid identity for Dick. But it hadn't worked out at all. He had broken it every time he had befriended one of the scholarship kids in school. So, Dick had settled for nerdy-former-circus-boy instead.

Dick frowned: "What are you doing here?"

"I- I'm a big fan", the boy stuttered, "From your Flying Grayson days. I saw you once. It was magical. I was very young but I remember every second of it. You were so cool. And then it happened."

Dick flinched at the allusion to his parents' deaths.

"I'm sorry", the boy shrunk back.

"Nothing to worry about, dude. Though you shouldn't creep into people's gardens. Not everyone is as chill about it as me."

"I'm sorry", the boy lowered his eyes.

Dick felt concern within him grow. The kid seemed very reserved. And, apparently, he was unsupervised enough to creep after others for weeks. It would be unsettling - but Dick didn't think that the kid was malicious. He seemed more neglected and in search for approval. Dick related more to that than he would ever admit.

He wanted to crouch but his injuries didn't allow it. So, he sat down on the grass. Dick gritted his teeth when he had to move his bad leg. The pain made him feel like an old man. Alfred would complain about the grass stains on his jeans.

"What's your name, kid?", Dick asked.

"Tim", the boy looked down at his feet.

"Drake", he added more quietly.

Dick didn't show his surprise. The Drakes were a big deal in Gotham. He remembered them from his gala days. Always too stuck up for Dick's taste. Every time he'd talked to them, they had pretended to be nice. But he had repeatedly overheard conversations where they had laughed with others about the dirty little circus-rat Bruce had taken in. Tim seemed too nice to have these assholes as his parents.

"You must be seriously smart if you manage to get through Bruce's security system. No one's more paranoid than him especially since-", Dick stopped himself.

"The death of Jason Todd?", Tim seemed to speak without thinking.

Dick winced: "Yeah."

"I read about it in the newspaper. I'm really sorry."

It was the third time that Tim had apologized to him within less than five minutes. He seemed genuine. Dick started to like the kid – even though he was a bit nosy. He hoped that Bruce wouldn't find him here. The chance was low. It was more like Bruce to send Alfred these days.

They hadn't spoken a word since Arkham. Dick had hoped that Bruce would at least try to approach him. Instead, his former mentor settled for avoidance or ignorance. One of the two. Dick couldn't discern anymore what it was. It was disappointing but it was better this way. Dick would just sit it out until he was healed again and return to Blüdhaven as quickly as possible.

"I- You are injured", Tim said.

"Happens on the trapeze", Dick said.

"They don't look like wounds you'd get from the trapeze", Tim challenged him.

"Maybe I got into a squabble or two. Don't tell, Bruce", Dick smiled.

"I know that you are Robin", Tim whispered.

Dick's breath hitched for a moment. But then he laughed: "That's an interesting theory, Tim. I think I've read it in some Gotham magazine. Do you want me to tell you who Batman is?"

"Bruce Wayne", Tim said with certainty in his eyes.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Tim. But I'm not Robin", it was technically true.

"You were the first Robin", Tim insisted.

"Where are your parents?"

"You are Nightwing now", Tim continued.

Dick cringed internally. This was getting out of hand.

"I won't tell. Don't worry", Tim looked earnest.

Dick set on his performance face. He smiled: "I think I should feel flattered. Robin's always been a cool guy. Saved me multiple times from all these kidnappings."

Tim crossed his arms. He sat in front of Dick: "It all matches up. Bruce Wayne adopts Jason Todd. A few months later a younger Robin is on the streets while Nightwing pops up. The new Robin vanished just when Jason Todd died. And Nightwing moved to Blüdhaven just like you did. And Batman became very aggressive."

"That's all very interesting, Tim-"

"I saw the video. Nightwing mentioned Zucco and that Batman's parents would be disappointed. Therefore, I concluded that Batman's parents are dead which matches Bruce Wayne. I also looked into Zucco. He has been in prison for years but he used to press protection money out of businesses. And he has been charged for the murder of the Graysons. And-"

"Tim, please", it felt painful having his whole screwed-up life laid out like that.

But Tim kept going on. The kid was in full detective-mode.

"-the first Robin was also incredibly acrobatic just like Nightwing is", Tim pulled out a high-tech phone and showed him a blurry video.

It was a Youtube-video taken from Dick's Robin days. Dick remembered that night. They had been fighting Dent on top of a skyscraper. (Dick had always had an aversion to Two Face). The criminal had shoved Dick off the building while Batman had been tied up to get back at the Dark Knight.

Even the grainy video captured Bruce's terrified scream. It had been one of the rare instances where Batman had shown emotion. Dick saw himself fall from the building. He had been terrified for the first few moments - his mind going back to his parents.

But Robin's fall became more controlled. He spread his arms stabilizing his body. He pulled off a quadruple summersault to get closer to the other side of the street. Robin used his grapple to slow his falls. His shoulder had almost been ripped apart that night. Dick shuddered at the memory. Robin landed on the street. Still painful but not enough to kill. He stood back up and limbed into the shadows. Dick had managed to free Batman afterwards who had taken all his rage out on Dent. Beating him to a pulp.

"Very impressive", Dick said.

"That's not impressive", Tim looked up at him, "That's insane. Not even Batman could pull that off."

Dick was still in thought. The video showed that Bruce had cared about him at some point. It took a lot to make Batman scream in fear. But the prospect of losing Dick had done it. Dick felt his eyes getting suspiciously wet.

"A professional acrobat could. A Flying Grayson. You were one of a handful people in the world to be able to perform a quadruple summersault – something that Robin did in this video. The age matches. It was you", Tim seemed unshakable in his conviction.

And Dick was too tired to argue anymore. He sneakily wiped away his tears. Tim seemed to notice them. He bit his lip and awkwardly put a hand on Dick's shoulder.

"You should leave, Tim, before he sees you", Dick's voice was shakier than he liked.

It was too late. Grass rustled and Bruce appeared behind Dick. He glared at Tim: "What are you doing in my garden?"

Tim shrunk back hiding the camera behind his back.

"Lay it off, B", Dick said, "The kid is terrified. And he didn't harm anyone."

Bruce ignored Dick. Not that that was anything new.

"What are you doing with that camera?"

"I- I-", Tim was unable to form words.

"Lay. It. Off", Dick glared at Bruce.

He hated that he couldn't get up right now.

"Get into the house", Bruce didn't even look at him.

It stung.

"So you don't have to deal with me?"

"I don't have to justify myself in front of you. You do as I say."

"I won't let you rip the kid apart."

Tim was shaking in fear looking at Bruce with wide eyes.

Bruce glared at Dick: "Get into the house. You are grounded."

"For what?"

"Disobeying an order."

"I'm an adult, remember? You can't tell me anything."

"You're sixteen. You're still my ward. If you keep disobeying me, you can forget going back to Blüdhaven."

It was too much. Dick used his crutches to lift himself up: "Why Bruce? You don't want me here anyway."

It hurt to stand like that. But Dick needed to prove a point. He hoped that Bruce would assure him that he still cared for Dick - like he would for a son. That he wanted to have him around. That Dick meant something to him.

But Bruce's face was blank. He took a deep breath: "Get. Into. The. House. NOW."

"Or what? You'll hit me?"

Bruce paled. He noticed that he towered over Dick and backed off avoiding his gaze. Was there shame in his eyes?

"I know that you're Batman", Tim said.

Bad timing. He had stirred the fire that was already searing within Bruce.

"That's ridiculous", Bruce said.

Dick sighed: "He told me his line of argument, B. We have to talk."

Bruce growled. He glared at Tim.

Bruce stomped back towards the manor having lost his usual collectedness. Dick didn't even try to keep pace with him. Tim followed him with concerned puppy-eyes. The kid was quite adorable.

"It will be fine, Tim", Dick assured him, "Bruce growls a lot but he's harmless most of the time."

"He hurt you."

Dick took a deep breath: "He did. But I won't let him hurt you."

Bruce sat at the kitchen table when they reached the manor. He looked at Tim with cold eyes: "Talk."

They sat down. Dick squeezed Tim's hand comforting the quivering boy. Tim relayed his line of argument.

"What do you want boy? Money?", Bruce said after Tim had finished.

"No, Mr. Wayne. Batman, sir."

"I think he wants something else", Dick thought about how sad Tim seemed.

He recognized a lonely soul when he saw one. The boy had probably hoped for some kind of recognition from his heroes. Bad timing. Tim seemed to get that a lot.

"I won't talk", Tim said, "I promise. Batman and Robin are my heroes. I would never harm them."

"I hope so for your own sake", Bruce said.

"Bruce, please. He's just a kid."

Bruce glared at Dick: "I told you to be careful with your fancy flips."

"Oh. So, I should have just fallen to my death? Carry on the family tradition?"

Bruce hesitated. The lines in his face softened – barely. It made Dick even angrier.

"I'd never want you dead."

This was as close as Bruce would get to showing affection.

"Really? I didn't notice that. It got lost in the times you actively tried to kill me", Dick stood up, "I can't stand it anymore. I'm leaving."

Bruce bit his lip. He evaded Dick's glare. Dick had never seen his guardian look so guilty – and it felt good.

"If you think you can run off to Blüdhaven while you're still injured-"

"I'm going to Wally's", Dick said.

Alfred stood in the doorway looking at the scene in concern.

Dick wanted to dramatically storm off. He was a performer after all. But instead he dutifully took his crutches and limped towards the door.

"I'm sorry, Alfie."

"I understand, Master Dick", Alfred glared at Bruce.