Title comes from this quote from Carol Saline: "Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other."
Melinda wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when she heard knocking at her door at nearly midnight on a rainy night, but it hadn't been Dick Grayson, huddled in a drenched hoodie and looking thoroughly pathetic.
"Dick?" Melinda asked, a bit blankly. She hadn't heard from her half-brother recently, and there was no real reason she could think of for him to turn up at her doorstep. It was dangerous for him to be there and they both knew it - if Blockbuster found out about their connection, it would go very badly - but Dick wouldn't take the risk without reason. "Are you okay?"
"I-" Dick began, then he pulled his shoulders in tight and shrank into himself. "Sorry. I shouldn't have- I didn't mean to bother you. I- I'll go."
The stammering was unlike Dick, and it only made Melinda more concerned. "Dick, what's wrong?"
"I-" Dick shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. "I'll-"
"You're not going anywhere," Melinda said, grabbing his arm and dragging him inside. "Wait here, I'll get you a towel. Don't even think about leaving."
Melinda hurried around the corner to the bathroom and almost walked into Audre. "Is your brother alright?" she asked. She looked casual enough, but Melinda knew she'd been waiting and listening for any threats. The fact that she hadn't come around the corner meant she recognized Dick wasn't one. Melinda appreciated that; it had taken Audre a bit to forgive Dick for breaking into their apartment the first time they met.
"Something's up with him," Melinda said, heading towards the bathroom. Audre followed her, arms crossed over her chest. "I don't know what it is, but I'm going to try to figure it out."
"Is he hurt?"
"I don't think so," Melinda said, although she wasn't entirely sure of that, come to think of it. The hoodie could mask injuries, and the hood had been low enough that she couldn't get a good look at Dick's face. Given his night job, it wouldn't be particularly surprising if he were hurt, but Melinda didn't think that was what had brought him to her door.
She made a mental note to expand her first aid kit, in case that ever did drive Dick to her door.
"Should I stay out of sight?" Audre asked.
"For now, yeah," Melinda said, a bit apologetically. Dick had been hesitant and uncomfortable enough with just Melinda; being outnumbered might make him flee.
"I'll be in the bedroom, then," Audre said. "Call for me if you need me." She dropped a kiss on Melinda's lips, then slipped out of the bathroom. Melinda grabbed a towel and left as well, heading for the doorway.
Dick was standing exactly where she'd left him, shivering slightly. "Here," Melinda said, handing him the towel. "You should take off your hoodie, it's soaked. You can hang it over the radiator to dry. Take off your shoes too, they're muddy."
"I shouldn't stay," Dick said quietly. "You're probably busy. I didn't mean to ruin your night."
"You're not ruining anything," Melinda said. "Take off the hoodie and shoes, use the towel, and then come with me."
Slowly, Dick did as he was told; he shucked off his hoodie, toed off his shoes, rubbed the towel over his wet hair, and followed her as she went into the living room. He only sat down after she did, and only after she patted the spot next to her. He shivered, and she grabbed a throw blanket and draped it around his shoulders.
"Are you going to tell me what's up, or do I have to start guessing?" she asked. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm not-" Dick curled his fingers around the edges of the blanket and pulled it tighter around him. "I'm not hurt. It's- Today is-" He took a deep breath. "It's the anniversary of the day my parents died."
Melinda's heart dropped. "Oh. Oh, Dick, I'm so sorry."
"I normally spend it with Bruce," Dick said, "but he's on a trip, and it got extended at the last second, so he's not home yet. And I used to spend it with Alfred, but he's…" Dick swallowed visibly. "And I just- I didn't know where to go."
"You can always come here," Melinda promised. She hesitated, then asked, "Do you want me to call my mother and ask her to come over? She has lots of stories about your parents. I don't know if that would help or…"
Dick shook his head slowly. "I want to hear them, but… not tonight."
"Okay," Melinda said, keeping her voice gentle. "What would help tonight, then?"
Dick shrugged. "I just didn't want to be alone."
"Do you want tea?" Melinda asked. "I was going to make tea."
"What type of tea?"
"Fresh ginger tea. It's one of my favorites."
"I'd love a cup, if it's not too much trouble," Dick said tentatively.
"No trouble at all," Melinda said, standing and heading into her kitchen. "Do you want anything other than ginger in the tea? Honey? Lemon? My mom's always liked a slice of orange."
Dick stilled. "When I was growing up, my dad would always put an orange slice in his ginger tea. My mom liked lemon, but he'd use an orange, and then the three of us would share the rest of it. He told me once that he got a taste for it from an old friend."
An old friend. That was one way to put it, Melinda supposed. It was strange to think about the little ways their lives intersected like this; the ways their childhoods held echoes of each other.
"Is that what you want, then? An orange slice?"
Dick nodded slowly. "Yeah. Thanks."
Melinda turned on the kettle and began slicing ginger and the fruits. She put thin slices of ginger in two mugs, then added a lemon slice to one and an orange slice to the other. She held the leftover orange for a moment, wondering if she should offer it to Dick, but ultimately, she put it away. She'd already be bringing back memories; she wasn't sure if Dick would want her to try to relive more.
When the water boiled, she poured it into the two mugs and set them on a tray with sugar and honey. She normally added a small drizzle of honey in her own tea, but she didn't know how Dick took his. She added two spoons and a small saucer to the tray, and then she carefully brought it into the living room and set it down on the table.
"You can add sugar or honey, if you want," she told Dick, stirring honey into her own mug. "And if your tea is getting too strong, you can put the ginger on the plate."
"Thanks," Dick murmured, adding some honey to his tea and stirring it in. He wrapped both hands around the mug, but he didn't take a sip.
"Is there anything else I can do?" Melinda asked quietly. "Do you want a distraction, or do you want to talk, or-"
"Honestly, I- I don't really know," Dick admitted. "I just didn't want to be alone."
"You've got lots of other siblings, don't you?" Melinda asked. "Why didn't you go to them? I'm not complaining, and you can always come to me if you need something, but…"
"The others are all my little siblings," Dick said, looking down at his tea. "And they know I'm not perfect, but… There was this whole big thing that happened recently, and things have only just sort of gone back to normal, and I don't want to- I don't want them-" Dick sighed. "I'm their big brother. I'm the strong one. I'm supposed to be the one who has everything all together. And I wasn't for a while, I couldn't be, but now, I'm trying to be that again."
"Your siblings won't judge you for grieving your parents," Melinda said. She'd never met Dick's siblings, but she was sure that was true.
"I know they won't, but tonight, I just don't want to have to be anyone's big brother. I just want to be… me."
"Well," Melinda said with a small smile, "you're my little brother, so I can be the strong one tonight, and you can just be you."
"I've never had an older sibling before," Dick said. "I was an only child for eighteen years, and then I got a bunch of younger siblings. But I've always been the oldest."
It was clear that Dick loved his siblings. Anyone who spent more than five seconds with him would be able to tell that. But from the way Dick told it, it sounded like being the oldest could be lonely sometimes. Melinda understood the urge to protect his younger siblings - she'd only known Dick for a few months, and she already wanted to protect him - but that didn't make it any less isolating when Dick thought he had to protect them from himself.
"You don't have to always be the oldest anymore," Melinda said, shifting over so she was close enough to gently nudge Dick with her shoulder. "You can let me handle that sometimes, okay?"
Dick sighed and, in a gesture Melinda hadn't expected, rested his head on her shoulder. "Thank you."
Before she could overthink it, Melinda kissed the top of his head. "What else are big sisters for?"
Dick made a little huffing sound that was almost a laugh. "My other sister is younger, but she always seemed to enjoy terrorizing the littler ones."
"I'm not saying I'll never terrorize you, because I'm pretty sure all older siblings have to at some point," Melinda said, and the sound Dick made in response was a distinctly amused snort. "But you can also lean on me sometimes, Dick. You don't have to always be strong."
Dick let out a long sigh, then he lifted his head and took a sip of his tea. "Thanks, Melinda."
"Any time, Dick."
She meant it with all her heart. She hoped Dick could tell.