Dick Grayson
The Batcave
Sunday March 22nd, 2009
I open my eyes slowly. The familiar sight of the Batcave infirmary comes into view.
"Good morning," a woman says. She's blurry at first, but my eyes fix themselves and I recognize her neat gray hair and rectangular glasses. It's Doctor Thompkins. She was Bruce's physician when he was a little kid, and now she's the only doctor he trusts to patch him up after he gets hurt on patrol. If she's here, that means whatever happened to me was pretty bad.
I blink, trying to clear the fog out of my head. My heart jumps in my chest, along with a sudden wave of panic.
"What… what happened?" I ask. My voice catches in my throat and turns into a coughing fit.
"Easy, Dick. What do you remember?" she asks gently, in her soothing voice that makes it seem like she wouldn't even be worried if the world blew up.
I screw my eyes shut.
Think!
"We were in the warehouse and the fire started… I went after some of them on my own but I couldn't… I… one of them had a knife… I think…" I don't remember anything after that. Why don't I remember?!
"Shhh, just breathe. It's okay. You're safe now," Doctor Thompkins puts her hand on my arm before I can freak out. I force air into my lungs, letting my hands relax from their death grip on the sheets. Doctor Thompkins readjusts her glasses and smiles reassuringly, "It's normal not to remember. You're on a lot of painkillers right now. You've been out for nine hours. Bruce found you with a nasty gash on your leg and minor smoke inhalation."
I cough again and she nods. The look on her face says, "What do you expect?"
"You'll be fine with a little rest, and I want you to stay off your leg for a few weeks. You got really lucky. A cut like that could damage your nerves and develop a serious infection."
I remember the blade slashing through my leg as I struggled against the gangsters holding me in an arm lock. I remember screaming as I lashed out, sending them to the ground and knocking them out.
What happened next?
My head throbs as I try to press through the black haze, but it just slips away.
"It'll come back. Don't hurt yourself," Doctor Thompkins says gently, one hand slowly stroking my hair comfortingly.
"Sorry."
There's a knock on the door and Bruce comes in.
"How is he, Leslie?" Bruce asks, voice full of worry. I do a double take. Bruce doesn't do worried, or really any kind of emotion unless there's cameras around. He must be really freaking out.
Worth it, my subconscious tells me. My eyes widen. What was worth it?!
"Ask him yourself," she smiles, standing up so he can take the chair. The door closes with a snap.
Snap.
The same sound the door made when Slade left the room.
Memories come back in flashes. A gun pointed between my eyes. The shot ringing through the warehouse, a gangster's head exploding. A black and orange mask appearing out of nowhere. Slade saying my name. Slade saying he wouldn't let me leave.
"If you work for me, you can return home,"
"Deal."
"I'll contact you in a few weeks."
Bruce squeezes my shoulders, too much worry in his voice.
"Dick? Can you hear me?"
Blinking back the memories, I nod dimly. Relief floods his face and his arms raise, but he hesitates. I throw my arms around him and he lets himself hug me back.
It's warm and comfortable and so safe that tears start dripping down my face. Once I start crying, I can't stop. Bruce just holds me tighter. He starts rubbing circles into my back gently. There's no judgement, just love and relief and support even if he doesn't know why I'm crying. I thought I would never see Bruce again. I thought I would be trapped in that bunker with Slade forever. I thought I would die in the warehouse, a bullet lodged in my brain.
"It's okay," Bruce murmurs, "You're safe now. I'm here."
I sniffle and pull back from the hug. I take a few deep breaths, but the tears don't want to stop.
"I shouldn't have left you alone! I'm sorry!"
"I'm sorry, too," Bruce sighs, "I never should have brought you to that fight. I didn't realize how many there were, and we were both unprepared. You were hurt because of me. I never should have put you in danger, Dick. You're my responsibility. It's my fault you got hurt. I… I'm so sorry. This was all my fault."
"No, it wasn't!" I protest, pulling back with tears and snot running down my face, "I'm the one who messed up! I left you alone to fight twelve of them by yourself, and then you didn't know where I was!"
Bruce looks at me sternly, guilt turning into disbelief.
"This was not your fault, Dick. I can't put you in danger anymore."
"You didn't! I put myself in danger!"
"That's the problem. You'll do whatever you think is right, even if it means putting yourself in the line of fire."
"That's what superheroes do! That's what you do!"
Bruce leans forward slowly, easing his hands onto my shoulders. I raise my head to meet his eyes, and I wince at the pain shining through them.
"I don't want you to be like me," he says solemnly and my gut twists with every word, "You deserve better. You deserve to be safe and healthy and happy."
"I am happy!" I shout, "Yes, I messed up, but that was my fault, not yours! I promise, I'll never do it again. I'll do exactly what you tell me to do from now on! You can't take Robin away from me."
"Dick…"
"No! I wanted to become Robin, and you knew exactly what that meant. But you let me do it anyway, even though you knew it wasn't a decision to be made lightly!" Slade's words slide off my tongue, "I won't stop being Robin."
Bruce stares at me, his face blank. I meet his eyes, narrowing them in determination. Finally, his mouth twitches in a mix of fondness and sadness.
"I know."
The mattress creaks as he sits next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
"I don't want to see you hurt."
"I don't want you to get hurt because I wasn't there. You need me."
The thought catches Bruce off guard. He blinks and his back stiffens while his mouth narrows into a thin line. His surprise only lasts for a second before the arm around my shoulder is pulling me into a hug.
"I know."
Dick Grayson
The Bishop Family Estate
Friday, April 14th, 2009
"Bruce, darling! It's been far too long."
"And I am deeply sorry about that, Theodora. I'd blame it on work, but it's really my own fault," Bruce answers seriously. Considering he does everything he can to stay away from Mrs. Miriam, it really is his fault. He always says telling the truth is the best way to lie.
"I swear, you get to be more of a charmer with every year," Mrs. Weimoff laughs and Mrs. Miriam laughs with her.
"I do my best, Elana," Bruce smiles.
"Oh, and this must be Richard. My god, he's sprouted like a weed! What have you been feeding him?"
Mrs. Miriam reaches down to pinch my cheeks and I scoot backwards, just enough so that her thumbs can't quite reach. She settles for giving my face a brief squeeze before straightening. I fight back an eyeroll, but keep the forced socialite-in-training smile that Alfred insisted I perfect on my face.
"Now, Bruce, you must tell me about this new venture Caleb has roped you into. He insisted it would be quite the adventure to partner with you again."
"It's a collaborative project between two of our subdivisions, Theodora. I'm not quite sure how that qualifies as an adventure."
"That's not what Caleb tells me!" Mrs. Miriam leans in conspiratorially, pulling Bruce closer, "He seemed quite anxious about the whole thing. Don't tell him I've said so, but that man has no sense for business. Such a shame too, his father could talk a man into a dress and heels."
Mrs. Miriam cackles at her own horrible joke. Bruce and I make a face at each other.
Can I go? I beg silently. He presses his lips together and gives a tiny head shake.
"Well, Thea, you can't expect to get a straight answer from Caleb these days. You know his fiancé gets back from her deployment next week," Mrs. Weimoff points out.
"Oh! No wonder the poor boy is such a wreck," Mrs. Miriam exclaims, throwing her hands in the air.
"Deployment?" Bruce asks politely.
"You heard about the engagement, I assume?" Mrs. Miriam asks. Bruce nods. I shake my head.
"Well, Caleb's firm has been in consulting for the military for the past few years, and from what I hear he hit it off with one of the platoon leaders. She's due back from Afghanistan next week," Mrs. Weimoff tells me.
"You know, it's funny, Vivian always said that Caleb needed a woman who would boss him around, otherwise he'd just sit around twiddling his thumbs. And there he goes, head over heels for a drill sergeant!" Mrs. Miriam laughs shrilly.
"I'll be sure to send them my regards," Bruce says, cutting in neatly before the gossip gets any more out of hand.
"Well, that's very sweet of you, but I would suggest you wait at least until Michelle gets back before you talk to Caleb. He really is a mess," Mrs. Weimoff says seriously, casting a worried glance across the hall.
"I appreciate the suggestion."
"We won't take up any more of your time, Bruce. Go mingle," Mrs. Weimoff smiles, giving me a conspiratorial wink.
"Always a pleasure to see you, Elana, Theodora," Bruce and I cross the hall, making our way towards the bathrooms so I have a quick escape if we get spotted again, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Mrs. Weimoff isn't so bad, but why does everyone try to pinch me?!" I whine, "Yes, I have gotten taller in the last twelve months. Congratulations for noticing!"
Bruce grins and pats my shoulder, "Just wait until you hit your growth spurt."
"Any sign of Roy?" I ask.
"I haven't seen Ollie yet, but they're both on the list. They should be here soon if they aren't already."
"I'm going to dieeeee…" I whine. Bruce laughs and messes up my hair.
"I'll bring flowers to your funeral."
"Bruuuuuuce…" I whine, reaching up to straighten it.
"Excuse me, waiter?" A new voice says while a hand taps Bruce on the shoulder, "Have you seen a walking pile of cologne and Playboy magazines? About yea high? Massive superiority complex? Oh, there you are Bruce! I was just looking for you."
"It's a shame, Oliver, I was really hoping you'd lost your invitation," Bruce offers Uncle Ollie his hand and a foppish smile before they both laugh and break character.
"Good to see you, Bruce. You too, kid," Uncle Ollie gives me a hug. There's no sign of Roy, but there is a woman with blonde hair and a long black dress at Ollie's side. She offers me a smile and I nod back at her.
"Is Roy here?" I ask.
Ollie shakes his head, "Sorry Dick. I owed him one so he skipped tonight. But I'd like you both to meet my partner, Dinah Lance."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne, and you too, Richard. Ollie has told me so much about you both."
"The pleasure is ours, Miss Lance. Although, I have to say that I'm reasonably sure we've met before. You said you and Ollie are… partners?"
"In everything. Partners in crime, you might even say," Dinah winks, "I'm sure you're both more than familiar with that particular line of work."
Hmm… if Bruce thinks they met before, then they definitely did. But is she really saying what I think she is?
Bruce squeezes my shoulder twice, signaling to be on-guard. In this case though, Bruce looks totally at ease. There's none of the false charm he puts on when there's danger. Then that means… is Dinah really a superhero too?
"Three o'clock," Ollie mutters to Bruce. I scoot back, so I'm standing behind him.
"There you are, Bruce," Mr. Nathan Bishop appears, shaking Bruce's hand firmly.
"We're so glad you could make it!" Elizabeth Bishop croons, air-kissing Bruce's cheeks. She turns to Oliver and beams, "And Oliver, thank you for coming all this way! How's Moira?"
"She's keeping busy with the foundation," Ollie answers with a smile.
"Make sure to give her my best. We'll be back in Santa Barbara this summer and I've got so much to talk to her about. Your mother is an absolute genius when it comes to coordinating events."
"I'll tell her you said so," Ollie says, "Have you met Dinah?"
While Mrs. Bishop says her greetings, Nathan leans towards me and says, "If you've gotten bored of all the schmoozing, Jilly and Lenny set up a movie in the game room."
I look at Bruce pleadingly.
"Fine by me," he says, "Just make sure your tie is still on during dinner."
"Thank you!"
"Go through the kitchen and through the double doors in the back."
Mrs. Bishop winks at me as I slip past her and through the massive ballroom. The Bishops are old friends of Bruce's, which are pretty rare. Bruce and Nathan met in college way before Bruce was using his playboy billionaire cover and they somehow managed to stay in contact. Jill and her younger brother Lenny wave at me when I make it to the game room. There's a giant tv against one wall and a ring of couches and armchairs.
"Hi Dick!" Lenny waves.
"We saved you a seat," Jill gestures to one of the two empty couches from her spot on a plushy recliner.
There aren't a lot of kids at these kinds of events. Dolled-up toddlers and little kids in clothes that would cost what my parents made in a year get paraded around during the cocktail hour, but after about forty minutes the nannies come to whisk them back home. Aside from Jill and Lenny, a boy named Michael and a pair of twins named Veronica and Lydia are watching Mulan. Jill is fourteen and she's the oldest. Michael is the youngest and I'm only a few months older than him. They're all nice enough, even if the only thing I have in common with them is that we all agree these dinners are so stupidly boring.
I wish Roy was here.
I sit on the couch closest to the door and pull out my phone, checking the time. Dinner isn't for another hour and a half, and Bruce always has to stay until at least midnight. But it could be worse. At least I don't have to make any more small talk tonight.
AN: Thanks for reading!