A New Horizon
When Dick decided to reveal his identity to a bunch of college-aged heroes, he hadn't expected it to involve this much ogling.
The whole team except for Kaldur were facing the wall, but the gilled man was doing enough staring for the lot of them.
"There something on my face?" Dick asked dryly as he systemically stripped dental floss from its plastic husk.
Kaldur ducked his head for a minute, shamefaced, before immediately resuming his gawking. "No."
"That," He tore a line of floss off with his teeth before dumping it into his lap, "was a rhetorical question. I already know what you're staring at."
It's not that he was ashamed of the ropey scars covering his torso; they were a guarantee that came along with any form of hero—or vigilante—work.
In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if members of the Team had some scarring of their own.
So, no, it wasn't shame that'd had him directing the heroes' gazes towards the apartment wall. He simple didn't want the looks of pity, the poorly veiled concern.
Bruce had never reacted to the battlefield that was his ward's chest, just helped sew Dick's seams back together with calculated detachment.
It'd made things easy.
With the Team, he could predict how they'd react. They were heroes, yes, but there were still parts of Gotham that Dick had been facing since he was a pimpled pre-teen that they could never imagine. Parts they couldn't even begin to comprehend.
He frowned down at his fingers as they began to tremble again, making it nearly impossible to keep his grip on the needle. He swore, low and viciously, feeling Kaldur's weighted stare in his very core.
"Need a hand?"
"I have two already," Dick shot back before wincing at how petulant it sounded.
"I can see that," The Atlantean remarked slowly. "But it looks like you could use a third."
"Maybe a fourth, fifth, and sixth, too," Artemis snapped from where she was still facing the wall. "Before you bleed out on our couch and we have to use all those hands to bury your stubborn body."
"I, too, have hands that could help." M'gann made a soft noise of assent, pressed up against her partner's side. "As does Conner."
"Okay, let's quit it with the hand analogy," Wally's voice sounded strained. Dick could didn't have to see his face to know the speedster was grimacing. "It's getting weird."
"Borderline euphemism-ish," Dick agreed, if only because he wanted to rankle Artemis.
Sure enough, she twisted her hand around and flipped him off, all without turning away from the wall. Had Dick not been getting increasingly covered in his own blood, he would've been impressed.
"Let me help," Kaldur said, voice low. "Just let us help you."
Dick was tempted to say no. The word weighed on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out, but he stopped himself.
He'd come here because he needed them. Because he wanted to trust them with this, needed to trust them with this.
Point being, if he wanted their help with Bollocks and the case, he'd have to accept them. And wasn't this the kind of thing teammates would trust each other with?
So instead of biting out a quick refusal, he nodded, averting his gaze to the floor as he held out the suturing needle and floss. "Fine."
If the Atlantean was surprised by his compliance, he didn't show it. Kaldur simply took the supplies in hand, sank down onto the couch beside him, and got to work.
Grimacing, Dick tilted his head back and studied the cracked, dirty apartment ceiling. His eyes slipped closed as the needle first inserted into his skin, cold against the torn flesh.
It was uncomfortable. He would've taken getting stabbed again over this.
Or perhaps he'd take unconsciousness, but there was currently so much adrenaline shooting through his veins that Dick knew his mind slipping away was unlikely.
Too bad.
"So," Wally said from where he was still facing the wall. "You know our names?"
Dick snorted, but kept his eyes closed. "I livewith Batman. Of course I know your names."
Bruce had a comprehensive list of all the League's alter egos, barring a few of the lesser-known ones he simply didn't care about. Dick, by extension, had learned them all too.
"What's that like?" Artemis asked carefully. "Living with Batman. Can't imagine you had any fun."
Wally seemed intrigued by the concept. "Yeah, he's all 'I am the brooding man of the night, watch me pose edgily on this gargoyle'. I can't picture him giving bubble baths and warm hugs."
A…hug. From Bruce.
Dick almost laughed out loud. The idea was more ludicrous than the bubble bath one.
"No warm hugs," He confirmed, mouth ticking up into a smile. "Or bubble baths. Though I can imagine him using a bath as surprise tactical practice so I'd be used to drowning, or something."
Hm. Dick hadn't really meant to say that. The pain and blood loss was making his tongue loose.
He really had to stop getting stabbed.
"Oh," Artemis' voice sounded small. He half-wished he could see the expression on her face. "That sucks."
Dick shrugged, then winced when it pulled at his aching ribs and sliced shoulders.
"When did you just decideto fight crime?" There was a rustle of fabric, like Wally was trying to restrain himself from turning around. "The first Robin showed up when I was, like, fourteen. Even the Flash didn't want me running around in spandex at that age, but you would've been what? Thirteen?"
He swallowed. Kaldur was trying to be gentle, but that last poke had felt like molten lava entering his skin. "Twelve."
That wasn't technically true.
The media had first spotted him operating as Robin at twelve, yes, but he'd been Robin for two years before that.
Batman hadn't known what to do when a ten-year-old Dick had gone after Tony Zucco, disappearing out his window one stormy Gotham night.
Bruce, hardly equipped to deal with a child—let alone a traumatized, acrobatic one out for the blood of his parents' murderer—had decided the best course of action was to keep Dick close.
If he couldn't stop Dick from sneaking out at night, then he could at least protect him from Gotham's worst.
(Batman's compliance may have also had something to do with the way Dick threatened to disappear for good if Bruce didn't let him operate as Robin, but that was hardly the point).
Those years were a little blurry now, but Dick vaguely remembered being content. Not happy, exactly, but…content.
There'd been Alfred's warm cookies, Bruce's semi-approving head tilts during combat drills, and the freedom of long Gotham nights.
Then there'd been Barbara cracking jokes with him at school, doing homework at her house till late at night while they gagged over her father's horrible cooking. There'd been Jason, and Joker, and Bruce's manic silence in the wake of the second Robin's death.
The years got a little less 'content' after that.
And now he was here, getting interrogated by the Justice League's tiny proteges.
Life was crazy like that.
Dick sighed, then shuddered as Kaldur made a particularly choppy tug.
The rest of Kaldur's doctoring passed in silence, the room's occupants no doubt trapped in their own speculative thoughts.
Dick, on the other hand, did his best not to think. With each passing second, he got increasingly drowsy, chin nearly dipping against his chest several times.
The blood dried on his hands, flaked on the discarded arms of his suit. His ankle throbbed in time with the lethargic beating of his heart, the ice M'gann had brought him doing little to stay the swelling.
Finally, the Atlantean pulled back, dropping the needle and leftover floss to the side with a sigh. "Disinfected and stitched. You're lucky to be alive."
There was a biting, morbid comment on the tip of his tongue about just how 'lucky' he was, but Dick forcibly shoved it back down his throat. Now was not the time for sarcasm.
He was trying to befriend these people, not drive them further away.
"Do you—" He cleared his throat when his voice came out as a raspy croak, no doubt due to the large, hand-sized bruise Zombie-Bollock's had wrapped around his larynx. "Do you have anything I could—I could wear?"
Asking went against every single bone in Dick's body. His inner Bruce was no doubt fainting right now, dramatically draping itself against the nearest aesthetically dark-and-broody object.
Kaldur, judging by the way his eyes softened around the corners, had picked up on Dick's struggle. "If you're more comfortable with something that belongs to you, I could grab it from next door?"
Dick thought about the various very illegal objects he had next door, such as the birdirangs sticking out of his wall, the framed wanted Robin poster Barbara had 'borrowed' from her dad's office and gifted Dick as a joke, and the spare Nightwing suit hanging in his closet.
"…I'd like to just have something quick, if that's alright."
Kaldur shot him a look that definitely meant If you weren't injured, I'd be interrogating you about your extremely suspicious behaviour, but nodded anyway and padded down the hallway towards the bedrooms.
Dick must've nodded off, his tired brain overriding his wariness over the other heroes' presence, cause when he next opened his eyes the Atlantean was standing in front of him again.
"Here," He pushed a very fuzzy, very thick pair of sweatpants into his hands along with a soft, distinctly pink-looking shirt. "This should fit."
Dick stared up at him, then at the clothes in disgust. "Seriously?"
"It is the twenty-first century," Kaldur remarked placidly. "Pink is a one-colour fits all."
Wally whooped in the background, only to get slapped in the arm by Artemis, who was glaring in concentration at a news article on her phone's tiny screen. Or maybe that was just her face's default setting.
Dick sighed, taking them from him with trembling arms.
His muscles felt like jelly, but he managed to pull the shirt over his head with minimal difficulty. The stitches riddling his chest and shoulders stretched, but Kaldur's work held up.
"I'm just going to—" He made an aborted gesture in the direction he knew the bathroom to be in. If this apartment was anything like his, it'd be the first door on the left.
No way was he changing out of the rest of his suit in their living room. No free strip shows from him; they'd have to pay to play.
He made to get up, only to have his ankle literally give out from under him. He thwacked against the couch cushions with an oompf, all the hard-won air in his lungs whooshing out again.
Kaldur was looking down at him with a mixture of exasperation and was that—was that pity?
Dick grimaced. Gross.
Shaking off Kaldur's hand, he hauled himself back up to his feet, this time ready for the fresh onslaught of pain that wracked his body.
Steeling himself, he bundled the clothes against his chest and made his, albeit slow, way towards the bathroom. "Feel free to talk about me as soon as I'm gone. I don't have super hearing or telepathy, so your conversation will be all nice and private."
The last thing he heard before he turned the corner was Artemis' indignant, "Why are we helping him again?"
His lips twitched as he stared at the bathroom tiles, entire body smarting like one giant bruise. He'd wondered what the reason behind their kindness could be.
Behind their self-sacrificing attitudes, why they hadn't just handed him over to the Justice League by now.
Why they were even helping him in the first place.
Because they're heroes.
Dick ignored the blooming jealousy in his chest brought on by the thought. Heroes are dumb, he thought, then he closed the bathroom door.
The sight of his face in the mirror was a distinctly unwelcome one.
His left eye was nearly swollen shut, dark bruises blooming over pale skin. The nick on his face hadn't been deep enough to require stitches, but the stark white bandage made it seem all the ghastlier.
It looked like he'd gotten in a fight with a meat grinder, and the meat grinder had won. By a lot.
Sighing, he shucked the rest of his suit off and pulled on the sweatpants, glaring when they pooled around his feet.
He wasn't short, everyone else was just stupid tall.
After using the bathroom's amenities, splashing some water on his face, and cursing when his ankle nearly gave out from under him again, Dick felt slightly more prepared to face reality again.
Then he took one step out of the bathroom, costume balled up against his chest, and immediately decided reality was overrated.
He was tempted to just hide in the bathroom until the Team was asleep.
Artemis was repeatedly smacking Wally with a pillow—who looked extremely entertained by that fact—while M'gann and Conner were staring sickeningly into each other's eyes.
Oh, God. Were they going to kiss?
Dick gagged.
Kaldur, who'd been staring uselessly at a pot of boiling water in the kitchenette, glanced over at the sound. "Dick. How are your stitches?"
"Fine." Dick watched as Wally vaulted over the back of a faded couch, only to have Artemis hurl the sagging pillow at him with deadly accuracy. "What's…happening."
Kaldur, who'd already looked exhausted to the point of near-death, managed to look even more tired. "Wally said we should keep you. Artemis is prone to violence and didn't appreciate him 'diminishing you to the same standings as a house pet'."
Dick blinked. "Ah."
The Atlantean shot him a wry smile, "Ah indeed. They are both quite fond of you, in their own ways."
The vigilante and hero, both dressed in their casual civies, watched as Artemis straddled Wally to the floor, pummeling his face with the sagging pillow.
It would've been romantic, had Wally not been laughing and Artemis baring her teeth in a bloodthirsty grin.
Then again, maybe this was their version of foreplay. Dick immediately shuddered, pushing that thought as far to the back of his head as was humanly possible.
"So," He started slowly, trying to smooth his worried curiosity into a casual question. "Did you make a decision yet? About keeping me, that is."
Kaldur's was studying him carefully out of the corner of his eye, but Dick forcefully kept his gaze on the battling hero-couple. "We have come to the decision that we will not 'keep you', as that would be treating you like a pet and we don't want to face Artemis' wrath. However, if the vigilante Nightwing wanted to stick around, we'd be more than willing to have him."
"What about Detective Grayson?" Dick wasn't sure if he was kidding anymore. Their conversation had stopped feeling like a joke at some point. "D'you think there'd be room for him?"
The Atlantean's eyes crinkled, his hand twitching like he'd been about to reach out but thought better of it. "I do not see why not." Again, his gaze fixed on the vigilante's bruised face. "Dick Grayson is welcome, too, whoever he is—whoever he may become. I do not hesitate in speaking for the Team when I say we'd like to get to know him."
Dick swallowed thickly, stubbornly blaming it on his raspy throat. "Right." He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the brick dust that rained down from his dusty locks. "Thanks."
"It is not a problem," This time, Kaldur did reach out, his hand landing firmly on Dick's shoulder. It rested there for hardly a second before withdrawing, like the Atlantean somehow knew Dick wasn't up for prolonged contact at the moment. "There is a place for you here, should you want it. I see a leader in you, someone who could build a whole new generation of heroes. A generation that doesn't think like the old one did, that could use the insight of an experienced vigilante."
Dick's brain stalled, then broke. Absently, he knew he was watching Artemis and Wally put the couch back together, but his mind was far, far away from it all.
"I do not expect an answer soon," Kaldur stepped away, as if somehow sensing that Dick needed the space. "But it is perhaps something to consider."
Even if Dick's tongue hadn't been dead in his mouth, he didn't think he'd have been able to formulate a response.
Him. A leader. A leader of heroes, and not just any heroes, but a new generation of heroes.
The idea was laughable. Ridiculous.
…and everything he'd ever wanted,
Numbly, he let himself drop onto the couch, Wally shouting something about grabbing bedding for a makeshift slumber party as Artemis mocked him from the other side of the room.
It felt like someone had just dumped a cold bucket of water over his head.
It felt a lot like hope.
(A/N): *quietly sneaks this in front of you* h-hey
I haven't updated since...April. Jeez.
life kinda just happened, and this needed to go on the backburner for a bit. I'm trying to be okay with it, but still. Sorry yall ;-;
Thank you for reading! I realize that was one loong unofficial hiatus, but hopefully I'll be able to start updating regularly again! Fingers crossed 😤