Bats in the Attic
Homey Diner
He almost didn't go.
Until he saw Jason, Dick somehow managed to remain blissfully aware of the fact he'd lost certain memories. The conversation with Barbara only provoked the unease of uncertainty created by the awareness of his amnesic state. He'd come back to Gotham to put the pieces together, not to have his world turned even more upside down.
Yet, for some reason, Dick also felt he should have known. After all, when he woke from the coma, there was a very distinct distortion regarding his sense of time. In addition, he couldn't remember what caused the friction between him and Bruce but chalked the entire situation up to him not wanting to remember, not an inability to remember.
The familiarity of Warren McGinnis' name proved too enticing, and as such, he found himself at a rather nice diner. The place reminded him of the times the circus family found themselves piling into such a place, creating a major ruckus, only for the staff to find themselves pleased with the business brought in by Jack "Pappy" Haly and his ragtag family.
Bruce also brought him to this kind of place, in order to attempt some sort of father-son bonding which, in Dick's recollection never went well, or when it did, seemed to quickly come crashing down. Yet, those memories were firm in his head right now but provided much better musings than thinking of what he'd done to mess up with Bruce.
The waitress on duty hurried over, batting her eyelids at the handsome stranger in a rather flirtatious manner. Dick instinctively smiled as she attempted to lead him to a seat. Glancing around, he found the diner empty except for a couple chatting away, and a group of elderly females gossiping. His smile broadened when one of the old ladies winked at him.
Momentarily, Dick cursed his luck with the opposite sex, but let the over flirtatious waitress lead him to a booth, and he slipped into the red seats. "So, what can I get ya'."
"A glass of water and a cup of coffee for now. I'm waiting for someone." Glancing up at the clock, Dick noted he'd arrived early but noted that he could definitely afford a cup of coffee. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back, he closed his eyes, hearing the distinct click of the cup on the saucer, yet kept his eyes closed.
"So, could I, uh... possibly get your phone number."
Dick's eyes snapped open, his mouth twisting into a frown. He found himself unsure of how to handle the situation when another person's voice provided the necessary interlude. "I see you're still able to make the girls fall for you with little effort Grayson."
Turning his head, Dick saw the red-haired man grinning at him, and yet...
The man's eyes blinked, then pointed to his mustache. "You must not have recognized me because I grew a mustache."
"Yeah. I guess." Dick smiled, unsure of how to address the fact he didn't remember Warren at all. He watched the man slip into the booth. "I guess so."
"I see you started without me." Warren pointed at Dick's coffee, turning his head to the waitress. "I'm actually paying for him. Could you bring us another cup of coffee and a couple slices of your daily pie special?"
"Sure thing."
"Hold on." Dick's mouth opened to protest. "I didn't agree..."
"Not taking any arguments. It's the least you could do after taking off for more than an entire year and making every one of us worry." Warren let out a huff, folding his arms. "So..."
"Sorry." His bright blue eyes looked out the window. "Sorry for making you worry."
"Dick, something the matter."
"A whole lot of things are the matter." He continued to stare out the window.
In the window's reflection, he saw Warren frown. "From the look on your face, you've already been up to the manor, and the reaction you got wasn't good."
Dick's head turned. He began to worry his lip, wondering what he should say to this complete stranger. "Something like that."
Warren sighed, glancing away. "Well, I'm kind of not surprised. I don't expect any of your brothers to take you being gone for over an entire year well, but Mr. Wayne, he at least should have been quite pleased to see you."
"Please to see me?" Dick's voice strained, leading him to shake his head. "No. I was an intrusion. I left before we could have an argument about whatever I did to make him mad in the first place which led to this whole... mess."
He found himself looking out the window again and saw Warren turn back to look at him, the confusion evident in his eyes. "Hold on. Mr. Wayne isn't mad at you for anything. If anything, he's seemed genuinely worried about you."
Dick took a few minutes to process what Warren said, then turned his head. Someone decided to turn on the jukebox at that point, making the young man slide down in his seat, the red leather squeaking as he did so. He turned to look at Warren. "That doesn't mean I didn't do something to make him mad. He always gets worried after he calms down."
"Which means the two of you can and should talk things over if that's the case."
The pies came, and Dick found himself looking down at his slice in major disinterest. He pushed it away slightly. "That's great and all. The only problem is, I don't remember what I did, so I can't actually go begging him for forgiveness, can I?"
Warren's eyes widened, his hand reaching for his fork. "What do you mean you don't remember?"
"I just don't. I'm hoping someone else does, only to find out. Well, Jason's as clueless as I am, and insists I didn't do anything. Barbra's apparently dating someone and is too busy to talk. The only clue I have is it might have something to do with the coma I was in."
"Wait, coma?" Warren's voice strained, making Dick turn back to look at the other young man. He noted a distinct look of horror in the other's eyes. "What coma?"
"What..." Dick's eyes blinked. "The coma I was in for an entire month, and woke up from about a year, year and a half ago. It's why I've not seen anyone in over a year. I needed to get my head together, particular after Bruce refused to see me after waking up."
"Dick, I don't think that coma was just for a month."
Dick's eyes blinked. The young man lifted his arms up to cross his chest, confused as to where Warren was going. "What do you mean by that?"
"Grayson, nobody has seen you in over two years. No, three." Warren set his fork down. "Dick, that means you were in a coma for more than a year."
"No. No. Bruce would have..." Dick swallowed, closing his eyes. "I must have done something really stupid."
"No. The person being stupid here is Mr. Wayne. I know you adore the man, but seriously..." Warren took a deep breath, before taking a deep drink of his coffee to calm down. He then set down his cup of coffee. "So, how'd you end up in a coma. Does it have anything to do with Nightwing?"
Dick's eyes blinked. "I don't know how I ended up in a coma, and who's this Nightwing?"
Warren spluttered, the coffee coming out of his nose, and drenching his mustache. "What? You don't know who Nightwing is?"
"Why should I?"
"Because..." Warren took a deep breath. "Grayson, who's the heroes of Gotham?"
"Simple. Batman, and his sidekick Robin."
Warren choked again, this time not on coffee. "Did you just call Robin a sidekick?"
"Well, yeah."
"Robin is Batman's partner! Partner!"
Dick stared at Warren in disbelief, then took a deep breath. "Okay. It's bad enough Gotham's masked vigilante is running around with a child sidekick and endangering his life, but to say that a child is an equal partner to a grown man is just plain absurd."
Warren's jaw dropped. "You're kidding me. Right?"
"No, I'm not." The young man crossed his arms in front of him, noting the look of shock on Warren's face. "Why do you think I am?"
"Uh, let's just say you always insisted they were partners in, like, every single conversation we've had." Warren's eyes narrowed. "Wait. Do you actually remember when we became friends?"
"In high school, wasn't it?" Dick soon realized said the answer was wrong, as Warren's face fell. He looked away, knowing the secret he'd tried to keep was now out.
"No. In high school, I thought you were some dumb jock."
"You signed my yearbook."
"We were both in chess. It was kind of obligatory."
"Then how did we meet?" Dick took a deep breath.
"We were college roommates. And, your youngest brother tried to kill me in the middle of the night, but I'm guessing you don't remember that, do you?" Warren took a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry. I should have been honest about, well, the memory thing, but I didn't know how to bring it up without being..." Dick stopped speaking.
"Seriously. It's Mr. Wayne who's the idiot, what with not letting all of us who care about you know you were in a coma, but then letting you go off on your own for an entire year despite having amnesia."
"I can take care of myself." This time, when Dick looked out the window, the reflection he saw was his own. A young man with dark hair and vivid blue eyes looked back at him, yet there was that one thing he couldn't get away from. "After all, I'm just some filthy gypsy trailer park circus trash." A sharp kick from under the table elicited a yelp, and Dick turned to look at Warren, who glared at him angrily. He let out a hiss as he leaned over to rub the sore spot. "What was that for?"
"Don't you dare talk about yourself like that! You know I hate you talking yourself like that! Or at least you would if you actually remembered we were friends and the time we spent with each other."
Dick swallowed, pushing himself up from his seat. "I'm sorry. I should have come. I'll pay for..."
Warren stood, grabbing Dick's arm. "Sit."
"Why. You said yourself..."
"The fact you can't remember we're friends doesn't mean we aren't friends. And I would be no friend if I let you walk out of that door, so sit."
Dick reluctantly sat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know why when I'm filthy..."
"Don't call yourself that word." Warren hissed. "You are the one who told me what kind of derogatory word that is, but that you're Romani and proud of it."
"I don't see why me using the word matters since I am Romani." Dick glanced out the window, folding his arms across his chest.
"It matters because you're self-deprecating yourself. And..." Warren took a deep breath. "I'm your friend, so I know that you only ever use that word when you are self-deprecating yourself, which means you're in a very dark place right now. I know how you can get. Hell, even Wally knows, and it scares us."
"Wally..." Dick sighed. "Barbara said he's my best friend, yet I couldn't find him in our yearbook."
"That's because Wally didn't go to our school, but he's also two years ahead of us." Warren took a deep breath. "I could give him a call, and he'd be here..."
"Don't. I don't want to disappoint another person in my life simply because I can't remember them."
"You're not a disappointment." In the reflection, Dick saw Warren's eyes close. "Dick, I've got to ask. Do you have a place to stay right now? A job?"
"No. I don't." Dick took a deep breath. "But as I said..."
"Don't use that word for yourself." The front door jingled, indicating someone came into the place. In the reflection, Dick watched Warren startle, then swallow.
"What's Grayson doing here?"