A/N: Hello! Thank you to everyone who reviewed/faved/alerted! This site makes it very difficult to react to individual comments, but know I read and love all of them!
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This is the first unedited chapter, as I want to finish this fic before diving back in and polishing up the story. That isn't to say this chapter ISNT edited at all (this is like the 4th draft) I just mean I wrote this almost two months back and haven't looked at it since X))) I hope the change in quality isn't too bad.
Enjoy!
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Dick couldn't remember the last time his alarm woke him and didn't crush his soul. It would've been an ancient time, long before Spyral, when he could open his eyes without feeling dread. Until yesterday.
After Tim left, he took a long shower, the hot water drumming against his back and unwinding the muscles under his shoulder blades. Then he went to bed, closed his eyes, and slept like a baby.
He didn't realise how much the bone-deep tiredness had taken from him until its spell was lifted, replaced by this buzzing need to act. His memories of the last few weeks were a hazy mess of stress, mistakes and worries, and Dick knew he didn't have long to fix things before his insomnia took him back. Could he fix everything tired-Dick fucked up before he was back at rock bottom? It was a stroke of luck that the family dinner was today, at least.
He should at least have today.
But first, Dick had to do something about his brothers. He knew they were worried. That wouldn't do. No, not at all. He might be a hot mess, but they shouldn't have to worry about it. That's not the big brother he wanted to be, Spyral or no Spyral. Not after they'd finally forgiven him for faking his death. He'd fix it, one brother at a time.
So here he was now, pulling up to the mansion on his dingy civilian bike. The gravel pulled at its tires, making Dick push against his steering wheel to keep steady. When he still lived here, he and Bruce begged Alfred to let them install asphalt, but the butler wouldn't have it. Said it would destroy the landscaping around the gates. There would be no asphalt at Wayne manor, even if most of the residents rode bikes instead of cars.
(Above ground, that is, but the Cave doesn't count.)
No one opened the door as he pulled his helmet off. It was only nine on a Saturday, after all. At this hour, Batman and Robin would still be sleeping off patrol, and Alfred would be in the kitchen to prepare for breakfast. Tim was holed up in his own apartment, no distractions until his affairs were in order. Something about toothpaste? The details were vague. Cass was a wildcard, but if Dick knew her, she wouldn't say no to a patrol when she was in town, which meant she kept Bruce and Damian's schedule and would be asleep.
His own logic steered him towards the kitchen, where he found Alfred pulling fresh bread from the oven. The room smelled heavenly, the cinnamon of the bread mixing with the thick spices of the stock already bubbling on the stove for tonight. The kitchen itself had changed little since Dick's time. Only the walk-in freezer had been upscaled, and the marble counter had been replaced after Jon slammed his fist into it during an argument with Damian. That had been a day.
"Master Dick!" Alfred put down the steaming bread on the counter, removing his Superman oven mitts. They'd been a gag gift to annoy Bruce, but the butler had unironically loved them. Or maybe he just loved the way it made his grandchildren cackle.
"Hi, Alfie." They hugged briefly, then Alfred stepped back to continue his work.
"What in heaven's name are you doing in my kitchen at this hour?" he asked while he lowered the fire below the stock. "You're not in trouble, are you, my boy?"
Perceptive as always. "Maybe a little," Dick admitted. "Is it okay if I steal Damian today? I'll make sure to have both of us back for dinner."
Alfred nodded. "I think that is a splendid idea. Master Damian has been quite down since that unfortunate incident at the academy, and although I suspect school had little to do with it, he refuses to tell me anything."
Dick sighed. Damian was slowly learning the tools to express his feelings, but sometimes his heart was still too big for his body, leaving him grumpy and trapped inside his own head.
"I think he's worried about me," he said. "I was having a little… trouble when I picked him up that day." Lying to Alfred wouldn't do anyone good.
"Trouble, Master Dick?"
"Nothing much," Dick reassured him. "Just a tiring case coupled with a long day at the BPD. But now that it's over, I thought I'd take him somewhere nice to show him he doesn't have to worry. Could you please cover for us with Bruce?"
The butler studied him. Dick had to fight the urge to hold his breath, to not tense as he was assessed. He prayed to every god that Alfred didn't suspect how much he was downplaying his issues, because if his grandfather caught on, the ruse was up. He'd tell Bruce, and they'd force him back to the manor. All the freedom he fought for would be gone with the wind.
As much as he loved everyone in the Manor, he always felt trapped when he spent more than a few days here. There was a reason for it, hidden under the surface. Something traumatic. But Dick didn't feel like cutting at old wounds. Since Spyral, so many of them already wept freely that he might bleed out if he pushed at his memories any further.
"Fine, Master Dick. As long as you're both back by six. Miss Cassandra has been waiting patiently for you to visit, and as she'll be flying back to Hong Kong tomorrow, missing tonight's dinner would be most inconsiderate."
Dick smiled, unable to keep the relief from his face. "Wouldn't dream of it."
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Damian blinked when he saw Dick in the kitchen, eyes still bleary and unfocused. He was already dressed, but his hair was still a mess. Dick made a mental snapshot of the moment to cherish later. Precious.
"Grayson?"
Dick stood up to give him a hug. "Hi, Dami. Slept well?"
Damian glanced around, then briefly returned the hug. "Well enough. But what are you doing here?"
"Well, I thought we could do something today. Just us. That sound good to you?"
The boy hesitated. "Father is still asleep."
"I'm not asking Bruce, am I?"
"Master Dick is quite right," Alfred said as he came in with Damian's breakfast. "But if you're worried about his opinion, I think Master Bruce would be delighted to see his family spend time together." This was why Dick always asked for his backup. He was a god amongst men.
When Damian bit at his lip to hide his smile, Dick knew the first phase of his plan was a success. "I suppose I can make time," he said. "Did you come on your motorcycle?"
Dick's hand itched to ruffle the boy's unkempt hair. Instead, he laid a hand on his shoulder. Damian had no touch zones, and his head was a big red no.
"I did."
"Good. I'll drive."
"No."
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There was only one place in Gotham they both enjoyed equally, for almost the same reason.
"Really, Grayson? The Zoo again?" Damian's voice sounded muffled and vaguely annoyed through his helmet.
"Hey. don't knock it till you try it."
Damian let go of Dick's waist and slipped off the bike. "I have tried it. In fact, both of us have the layout memorised. I could tell you ninety percent of the animals by name."
Doubt crept up on Dick. He really hoped the Zoo had been the correct choice. Maybe it was uninspired and predictable, but it was the only place in Gotham they could spend longer than an hour without getting bored or antsy. The crowds at the mall intimidated Damian, and if they wanted to see a movie, they'd do it at the Manor. He could've chosen something outside of Gotham, but Dick didn't want to anger Bruce by using the Zeta tubes for civilian things. The man had a point when he said it made their traveling habits hard to explain to the press. He already had to bankrupt four tabloids who wouldn't stop hounding him about it.
Damian removed his helmet, and Dick let go of the breath he was holding when he saw his face didn't match his mocking tone. It was just regular Damian snark.
"So you just forgot the other ten percent?" Dick asked.
Damian handed Dick his helmet. "I didn't, but Pennyworth says it's bad to brag."
"Is it bragging when it's true?"
"Yes. The action of bragging implies bringing up skills you have unnecessarily, not lying about them. You can't brag about skills you don't have. Thus, saying I know all the animals by name without it being prompted counts as bragging."
"And knowing ninety percent doesn't? There's at least a thousand animals in there."
"1243, to be exact."
Dick shook his head. "I can't believe I have the humblest little brother in the world."
Damian nodded seriously, his eyes twinkling. "You do. Now hurry up."
They walked away from the busy entrance, knocking on a side door. An employee led them through a little office, and soon they emerged from behind the flamingo exhibit, dodging the rush at the gates completely. Perks of Bruce Wayne donating so much money he basically owned the place.
Dick has been a familiar face at the Zoo for years. When laws forbid Circuses from keeping wild animals, he had cried real tears, even though he'd been Robin for years at that point. Logically, he knew they didn't belong in the Circus. Even if he believed Zitka and the others were his friends, they'd still been caged and chained.
But the thought of more of the circus losing itself to laws had broken Dick. First, they made him leave. Then the animals suffered the same fate, thrown into another life because someone unimportant deemed their home unworthy.
Bruce had found him sobbing, and when he'd pried the story out of Dick, he'd called the Zoo and arranged everything on the spot. For as much as he could be a bastard, he knew how to use his money to bring some good into the world. Now the animals were orphans of Gotham, too, for better or worse. Saved by billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne.
"Big cats first?" Dick asked. Damian's history with the Zoo wasn't as complicated as Dick's. The boy just really liked animals, so he'd instantly warmed up to the place when Dick had asked him along, taking a particular shine to the leopards.
"Let's do the elephants first," Damian answered.
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The Zoo almost smelled like the circus, and Dick let himself be someone between memory and present, a different Dick whose heart didn't bleed when he thought about his family. He was six, sneaking out to the elephant tent in the middle of the night. He was fourteen, and Bruce was wiping tears from his cheeks. He was twenty-one, and his relationship with Damian was still as simple as a day at the Zoo.
In the Zoo things didn't move too quickly. They could leave for months, come back, and Zitka would be there on the other side of the canal surrounding her exhibit.
They didn't watch her for too long, staying far away from the fence. Whenever Zitka spotted Dick, she'd march right over, planting her feet in the water and reaching her trunk farther over the stone fence than should be allowed. The other guests would want to touch her too, and Dick would have to explain who he was to get them to stop. Besides, he didn't want Zitka to drop everything for him. She looked happy eating together with the other elephants, gently fluttering her ears as she chewed. It wasn't Africa, but it was something.
They moved on to the leopards, Damian checking the animals' health through the glass with Vet-like accuracy. An employee recognized them and let Damian feed the meerkats, which made him smile so brightly he almost looked his age. It was so blissfully domestic Dick didn't notice his headache had returned until it forced him to press his fingers into his scalp. His step faltered. Shit. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. He'd only been awake for a few hours!
"Grayson?"
"I'm fine, Dami. How about we go get lunch?"
"Why are your eyes closed? Are you hurt?"
Dick opened his eyes and flinched, the bright colours of the Zoo etching outlines on his eyelids. He hadn't even been working. Was not even a full night's rest enough to pick him up for a single day? How was he supposed to get through dinner like this?
"Answer me, Richard!"
"I'm really fine, Damian. Just give me a minute to catch my breath."
"Sit," he ordered. When Dick didn't move, Damian pulled him to one of the benches facing the jungle gym they'd just walked past. Dick thought about protesting, but sitting sounded really good right now.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. You are just being a fool, as always." Damian pried Dick's fingers from his skull and gently prodded the area. "Did you hit your head or is it blood loss? Were you shot?"
A flash of irritation caught Dick by surprise. He'd planned all this just to get Damian to stop worrying, and now he'd gone and made it worse. A small hand pried one of his eyelids open and flashed a light in it, making Dick's eyes water. He tried to move his face away from the light, but Damian wouldn't let him.
Dick forced Damian's hands away from his face. He opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off, but the words died in his throat. God. How far had he fallen just because of a lousy headache? Even though he hadn't cursed, the shame of how close he'd come haunted him. Especially when he saw Damian staring at him with a deep frown that meant he was sliding into the safety of his Robin persona.
Dick took a stabilising breath. Then he gently clasped Damian's hands and made him sit, too. He held on as he spoke.
"Dami, I promise I'm not hurt. I wasn't shot, and I don't have a concussion. Nothing's going to happen to me, and I'm not leaving again. You have to trust me." It nauseated Dick to appeal to Damian's trust with lies, but what was the alternative? The boy couldn't fix years of trauma. Even if he could, he shouldn't have to. He had enough shit to work through on his own, and he'd come too far for Dick to ruin him with his own problems.
"Then explain. Surely you know you can talk to me. I'm privy to this information as your…" Damian looked around before he finished the sentence below his breath. "... Robin."
Dick gently squeezed the boy's wrists. Curse his bleeding heart. "You are, but you're also thirteen, and I'm twenty-five. You know I love you, but there are things you shouldn't have to deal with at your age."
"So you're admitting something's wrong."
"No—"
"Tell me!"
"No, and that's final."
"Then I'll tell Father!"
Dick stilled.
"Tell me why I shouldn't."
"Dami… "
"You're clearly hurt and refusing to talk about it. You always tell me to speak to someone when I'm having issues. Are you ignoring your own advice?"
"But did I ever pressure you, like you're doing right now?"
Damian hesitated.
Dick decided to play dirty. "Don't you trust me?"
"I do, but you can't treat me like an oblivious child. I know things, Grayson."
Dick shook his head, the motion drumming in his skull. "All things you shouldn't know. I was thirteen once, too, and to have adults lean on you at that age… it isn't right, and I don't want that for you. You don't deserve it."
"That may be, but you are unwell."
"And it's not your problem."
Damian made a frustrated noise. "Then promise me you will make it someone else's. It doesn't have to be me or Father. One of your insufferable Titan friends will do. And when we get back, you will let me complete a full health check at the medbay. I trust you, but I don't trust you to be truthful about your injuries." Dick couldn't even be mad at him for that — he'd hidden too many injuries from him as Batman to expect anything else.
"Those are your terms?" It wasn't exactly what he planned, but a full exam down in the cave should help calm Damian down. His body was free of lacerations since he hadn't patrolled. Only his headache should pop up, and there was no hiding that. As for talking to a friend, he should give Wally a call soon, anyway. They hadn't spoken nearly as much as Dick liked the last couple of weeks.
The boy lifted his chin, daring Dick to challenge him. "Yes."
"Then I promise."
Damian blinked. "You do?"
"Gladly, if that's what it takes to make you stop worrying. I'd move mountains for you, Dami, even if I won't always tell you why." Dick hesitated, then opened his arms in a silent invitation. It was one thing to hug when they were alone, and another to do so in a public place like the Zoo. And their conversation hadn't exactly gone well, either, but Dick just really craved the contact. Even though he might be pushing his luck.
His little brother closed the distance between them, and Dick wanted to sob in relief. His sight went blurry, then sharp, then blurry again as he wiped the wetness away on his little brother's shoulder. Damian stayed quiet. Dick found his Robin's hand and linked their pinkies, hidden behind their bodies. "I promise I'll be fine," he whispered.
He didn't know if it was the truth, but it was the only acceptable answer.
They stayed on the bench for a long while. Some adults with strollers gave them the side-eye, the two of them clearly out of place on the buzzing playground, but Dick didn't care. Slowly, the pounding in his head became a throb, then a manageable pulse of pressure in his skull.
Damian told him about the Leopards, even though Dick already knew Laika was two months pregnant and that they would name her cubs through an art contest that Damian was dead set on winning.
When his headache took a backseat, Dick joined the conversation, and they talked about everything and nothing, their eyes drifting between the various pieces of playground equipment as children ran and climbed. It didn't look much different from their parkour practice in the cave, only with less punching.
"That one is going to fail," Damian said. Dick followed his gaze to the tumbling bars, where a black little girl had hooked her knees around the lowest bar and swung upside down, her arms hanging down towards the ground. She built momentum until she was almost upright, then let go, landing on her feet without ever touching the equipment with her hands.
Dangerous, but she seemed to have the skill down. If she swung just a little higher before she'd let go, she could land it without stumbling, though.
"Is no one spotting for her?" Damian clearly didn't think the girl was fine. Maybe he wasn't as used as Dick to seeing someone that tiny do flips. She swung again, and this time she landed cleanly. Her smile cut her face in half as the other children cheered.
"I'm sure someone's looking out for her."
One of the kids pointed towards another bar, one twice as high as the previous, and the girl nodded. Dick looked around, but none of the parents seemed worried by this development. They chatted from behind their strollers, only glancing towards the playground to see if everyone was still smiling.
The girl stretched towards the bar, but even on her tippy toes she couldn't reach. That should've been the end of it. Then a boy grabbed her waist and hoisted her on top of the bar, her feet dangling far above the other kid's faces.
Still no movement from the parents. If the kid was going to do the same flip as earlier, the extra height would make her overspin and land on her back. Dick had seen people break their necks from less.
"Why don't you go help?" Dick asked Damian, his eyes glued to the girl. His little brother might be a little too old for a playground, but he'd bring far less attention to himself than Dick.
Damian made a face but stood up anyway.
The girl hooked her knees and swung upside down in a single motion. She let go with her hands and used them to shoo the other kids out of the way. She started to move before Damian even set one step. One swing. Two. Three. Four. On the next swing her legs tensed, and Dick knew it was going to be her last.
He stalked over to the group, beating Damian by just a hair. The girl let go, then yelled as Dick caught her midair. The other kids shrieked, soon joined by their parents, who screamed bloody murder when they saw a strange man grab a child. A blur of noise and panic overtook the playground.
Dick let the girl go quickly, and she immediately ran towards her guardian, a heavyset an who scooped her up with ease. He yelled something, but Dick couldn't hear his voice. Noise merged with noise until all sound faded away. People moved in slow motion, waving angry hands in front of his face. A woman grabbed him and he sprung backwards, her forceful grip too similar to the ones haunting his memories.
Damian stepped in front of him. He yelled back at the adults with an animalistic snarl on his face, puffing his chest and daring anyone to come closer. No, that was all wrong. Damian shouldn't look like that. Not for Dick, and not for anyone. Dick stepped outside his own panic and pulled Damian back, pressing the boy against his chest.
With his hands holding on to his Robin, Dick's senses returned to him.
"Someone call security!" a voice yelled.
"They're on their way!"
"Good!"
"Shame on you!"
"Shame!"
Damian yelled back from within his arms. "Did none of you incompetent fools see he saved her!"
"Shut up!" someone yelled.
Damian opened his mouth to yell back, but Dick beat him to it.
"Don't tell my kid to shut up!" They could scream at him all they wanted, but to yell at Damian like that? He glared at the woman who'd yelled until she turned tail.
Next problem. The man holding the little girl stomped towards them with an angry scowl. The girl's face pressed against his chest as she shook with sobs. Dick wanted to feel bad for the kid, really he did, but if it was this or a broken bone, she had little to complain about.
Her father didn't seem to share the sentiment. "Who do you think you are? What the hell did you do to my daughter?"
Dick squeezed Damian's shoulders, warning him to stay silent. "This is all a big misunderstanding," he said to the man. "I just happened to watch her play and noticed she was going to fall."
"She was fine!"
"My Brother is a gymnast," Damian bit back. "He has far more knowledge about these things than you amateurs."
"Dami."
The little girl removed her head from her father's chest, her eyes suddenly dry.
"Is that true?" she asked.
Damian nodded. "Yes. He would've known you would fall before you even let go."
"That's right," Dick added. "I've helped lots of people practice, so I can tell when something's wrong."
The girl nudged her father until he let her down with an exasperated look on his face. She eyed Dick like he was a piece of meat.
"Could you help me practice?"
"Brianna!"
Security turned up as Brianna argued with her Father that yes, some stranger on the playground was definitely more qualified than her current coach. It was probably true, but that wasn't exactly the point here.
The guards deflated as soon as they took stock of the situation. They knew Dick and Damian, like all the Zoo staff did. When the small mob of spectators realised no one would be arrested, they slithered away into the shadows. Thank god nobody had recognised them as Waynes, but the danger was far from over. Dick had seen no phones, but when screaming started, people whipped them out before their legs got running. The Gotham Gazette paid top dollar for a good shot of any fight, after all.
And if there was a video, Tim and Bruce would see it. Dick could only hope they wouldn't pick up on it before he went home tonight. The TikTok memes were still going strong, and if Dick Grayson was in the news at the same time as Nightwing, it could be a problem. Plus, he didn't want anyone to see Damian like that. The boy shouldn't be ashamed for caring, but Dick knew he would be.
Brianna was still listing reasons her Father should employ Dick when the two of them slipped away.
"A real Gymnast!" They heard her scream in the distance. Like Dick was some sort of unicorn.
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They both agreed they'd had enough of the Zoo, even though they'd barely seen half the animals. Dick felt like shit for ruining his day with Damian, kicking himself for every mishap. Why couldn't his headache have returned tomorrow? Why did he watch that girl until it was too late? He could've walked up to her the moment she'd grabbed the high bar, sparing them all this grief.
Instead of easing Damian's worries, he'd made it worse. Dick knew his little brother, and a single health check at the medbay wouldn't do anymore. Not after blanking on him like that.
Then Tim would see the video and connect the dots with his shit state of mind yesterday.
And Jason, his first little brother. The one he failed first. He had already condemned Dick, and he didn't even know why.
Dinner would be a shitshow too, with Cass there to see through his bullshit. But if he didn't go back to the Manor with Damian, it would raise even more red flags.
There wasn't a single path which led to victory. All he could do was lie and lie, and hope nobody caught him until it didn't matter anymore.
Except it would always matter.
When Dick pulled the keys of his bike out of his pocket, Damian snatched them away.
Dick sighed. "You're still not driving."
"Then call Pennyworth, because neither are you."
Dick opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it. That was fair, considering what had just happened.
"Let's take a taxi."
Damian nodded. "That's probably wise."
Dick wasn't ready for the coming storm.
