A/N I apologize that this update came a week late, but I spent the past week house-sitting for my grandparents and never had a chance to log on.
I'm hoping to actually be able to do weekly updates for real now that I'm back home and able to spend more time on my writing.
A special thank you to Purplehood and Meritt for all their help and support. You guys are awesome!
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or any associated characters.
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They were falling.
Falling again.
And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Dick watched helplessly as his parents began their act, oblivious to the danger that he himself was so acutely aware of.
"Mom! Dad! No!" He called out to them, reaching to them. He tried to move forward, go to them, but his legs were frozen in place.
He wasn't going anywhere.
"Mom!" he shouted one more time. "Dad!"
If he could get their attention, make them realize there was something wrong, maybe they wouldn't have to die.
But his parents continued. They didn't realize what he was trying to tell them, didn't know that the wire was cut, that it was going to break. It was going to break.
It was going to break while they were still up there.
It was going to break with them on it.
"No," he whispered, shaking his head, the tears beginning to form.
He couldn't see this again.
He couldn't watch his parents die.
Yet he couldn't look away.
Dick was trapped there, transfixed by the single, most horrific event in his life.
No.
No!
No!
The rope snapped, beginning as just a fraying cut, before completely severing and sending his family plunging into darkness.
It was happening.
And he couldn't stop it.
He couldn't stop it from happening.
He watched his mother's smile freeze as her expression changed to one of shock.
The horror dawning in his father's eyes as he realized what had happened.
And for a moment, it seemed, time had stopped.
"Dick," his mother gasped, her hands seeming to reach out for him.
And then they fell.
They fell and his own screams rang far louder than those of the crowd below them.
He collapsed to his knees, hands gripping his hair as he curled in on himself.
The noise from the crowd below ceased as he lost himself in a wave of anguish.
No, no, no, no.
His parents were dead.
Gone.
Shattered.
Broken.
No, no, no, no.
It became like a chant.
No, no, no, no.
Bad son.
Dick's head snapped up, eyes wide.
What?
Bad son.
You didn't fall with us.
We're supposed to be a family.
Why didn't you join us?
His parents' voices.
He felt his body beginning to tremble.
Bad son.
He shook his head frantically, trying to rid himself of the voices.
No.
His parents would never say that.
They would never think something like that.
No.
No.
"No!"
Dick shot up in bed with a cry of horror. Panting, he took in his surroundings, his eyes darting rapidly around the dark room.
He was shaking. His hair was damp with sweat.
He could still see them.
Still see them lying on the ground far, far below him. His breathing escalated and he hurriedly closed his eyes to shut out the images.
It didn't work.
Dick wrapped his arms around himself and breathed.
It was just a dream.
Just a dream.
He lay back down, resting his head on the pillow, trying to force the images far from his mind.
Bad son.
The words echoed back through his mind and he shuddered, unable to fall back asleep.
Was he?
Should he have fallen with them?
If he had, maybe they would still be a family.
Just dead.
Dick rolled over onto his side and stared into the darkness, feeling the tears begin to gather in his eyes.
He wiped at them with the back of his pajama sleeve and realized he wasn't going to be falling asleep anytime soon.
He rubbed a hand over his face, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The tip of his toes met the carpeted floor and he slid out of bed, the soles of his feet sinking deep into the carpet.
He opened the door to the hallway and peered outside. It was dark, the moonlight seeping in between the window drapes and casting shadows across the floor.
Slowly, he pushed the door open all the way and stepped out into the hall. Jason's room was across the hall from his, door closed as always.
The Manor was seemingly encased in total silence and Dick ventured further into the hall, until he had finally reached the top of the grand staircase.
If there was anyone who could be counted on to still be up and ready to lend a sympathetic ear at this hour, it was Alfred. A good portion of his earlier nights at the Manor had been spent with a plate of Alfred's cookies while the kindly butler offered his support after a particularly vivid nightmare.
He stopped on the first step of the grand staircase. The grandfather clock's ticking sounded unnaturally loud in comparison to the silence encasing the rest of the manor, but that wasn't the only sound.
Dick frowned.
It was only a faint murmur, barely discernable, but there were voices downstairs. That meant someone else was in the kitchen with Alfred…
It was still early (and the term "early" was used loosely, given the time) enough that Bruce would still be out on patrol, but he was away on a business trip…
Dick wrinkled his forehead. He couldn't remember the location exactly, but it was overseas.
The only other person was… Jason, and… Jason slept the night through… except… except on those nights when he was sneaking out his window.
Dick sighed, shaking his head and finished the trip down the staircase.
The light was on in the kitchen area, casting a warm, yellow glow into the adjoining rooms.
"Um, hello?" Dick approached slowly. "Alfred?" He poked his head around the corner… and stared,
Jason stared back at him, seated at the table, hand holding one of Alfred's famous chocolate chip cookies, half-eaten, eyes wide with surprise.
Dick stepped fully into the room. "Jason?"
"Nightmares, I presume, Master Richard?" Alfred stepped away from the refrigerator with a pitcher of milk.
"Uh… yeah?" He felt like he shouldn't be admitting that in front of Jason. As if it would somehow destroy whatever image of an older brother Jason had decided Dick was, but it was too late… or early, technically it was early, for him to try and invent a lie and he knew Alfred, and probably Jason too, would see right through it.
He could still see it.
The rope.
His parents.
The blood.
Dick swallowed, feeling frozen in place.
"Won't you sit down and join us, Master Richard?" Alfred pressed and Dick's eyes snapped away from the wall, meeting Alfred's. "Master Jason and I were just sitting down."
Dick shook his head to clear it, accepting Alfred's invitation and pulling out a chair, sitting down across from Jason. "Yeah, that would be great… thanks. So, uh, how about you? Late night book club with Alfie?"
Jason scowled at him. "No."
"Master Jason is here for the same reason you are, young sir," Alfred stated, and Dick suddenly found a glass of milk and a cookie placed in front of him, before Alfred was also seated at the table.
"Nightmare?" Dick looked back at Jason questioningly, but the boy's frown deepened as he stared into his glass of milk.
Jason had never mentioned nightmares before, but now that he thought about it, he realized that he really had no idea of what his little brother had gone through on the streets. Gotham had a nasty habit of destroying the people unlucky enough to end up living on her streets… and even some of the ones who didn't.
"There is no shame in talking about it," Alfred reminded him. Jason's hand tightened around the glass, before he finally looked up, looking first to Alfred, then Dick.
"Yeah."
Dick nodded. "Yeah, me too." Absently, he took a bite out of his cookie… they still tasted like heaven, and angled a glance at the butler. "You still make world-class cookies, Alfred."
Alfred merely nodded, looking satisfied. "A fact you have kept me well-informed of, Master Richard… but you had mentioned nightmares."
His parents.
Broken.
Bloody.
Dick nodded slowly, swallowing thickly, and painfully aware that he had all of Jason's attention on him now.
And he doesn't want to say it. He doesn't want to have to say it in front of Jason., but he knew that Alfred's words from before were meant for the two of them. "It's the same thing," he said, lowering his voice. He clasped his hands on the table in front of him and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. "They don't come every night. It's been a long time since the last one actually, but… It's that night. I see them fall and there's nothing I can do to stop it."
Dick raised his head, allowing his gaze to slide over to Jason and was surprised to see the younger boy looking at him with something akin to… understanding.
The moment they made eye contact, though, Jason glanced away, glaring at his lap instead.
Dick sighed, the brief connection broken, and felt Alfred's hand on his shoulder. "I hope you know, Master Richard, that what happened that night wasn't your fault."
"I…yeah… I know that now, but sometimes… you just wonder if there was something, anything, I could have done to stop it."
"So…" Dick was surprised to hear Jason speak and turned his attention once more to the younger boy. Jason looked at him intently, brow furrowed as he scrutinized him. "…it never goes away, does it?" Without waiting for an answer, he stood up, pushing the chair back, frowning. "I'm going to go back to bed."
"Master Jason…"
"Jay…" Dick started, but Jason was already gone from the room. Dick stood up, glancing at Alfred. "Maybe I should…" he inclined his head after Jason, "…go talk to him? Unless you think he'd rather see you?"
Alfred, already clearing away the dishes from the table, cast a glance in the boy's direction. "Perhaps, Master Richard, he would benefit most from speaking to his brother."
"Right…" Dick turned his head to look once more at the doorway. "I'll go see about doing that."
"Indeed, Master Richard."
XX
Dick knocked on the door, closed again as usual. "Uh… Jason?" There was no answer from within and Dick contemplated just pushing the door open and entering, but he didn't think Jason would appreciate that.
"Hello?"
Maybe he was asleep.
If he was asleep, then Dick really shouldn't disturb him.
Really, this was more awkward then it should be.
He sighed, trying a different tactic. "Okay, look, I know you're in there and I know you're awake. Jason? Can you hear me? I'm coming in."
The doorknob offered no resistance, turning easily in his hand. Jason never locked his door as far as he knew.
None of them did.
Except for Bruce, maybe, but that was because he was, well, Bruce.
Dick pushed the door open slowly and was struck with the sudden fear that, maybe, Jason wasn't even in his room.
If he had left again, Dick wasn't quite sure that he would be able to fathom why, but he still remembered the last time and it was all he could do not to barrel into the room.
To his infinite relief, the window was closed, though the curtains were drawn back. Jason never had them closed, preferring to let the moonlight in.
Said moonlight was currently casting enough light for him to make out the lump curled underneath the bedsheets and he breathed an involuntary sigh of relief.
He wasn't sure exactly what he would have done if Jason had flown the coop once more, for whatever reason, but he knew that without Bruce here, he'd have a hell of a lot more difficulty tracking him down on his own.
"Jay?" Dick entered the room, leaving the door open behind him.
The figure under the blanket stirred, uncovering his face.
"Dick?" He was confused, but at least he wasn't angry. Yet. "What are you doing in here?"
"Seeing if you're okay," Dick answered, stepping closer. He took Jason's silence as an opportunity to take a seat next to Jason's bed. "You kind of took off on me and Alfred."
Jason shifted, pulling the covers tighter around him and stared at Dick. "Yeah?"
"And we wanted to know if you were okay," Dick repeated.
"I'm fine," Jason grumbled, rolling over to face the window.
"You're not… angry are you?" Dick leaned forward. Jason didn't answer and Dick wondered if he was so fed up with the intrusion that he was going to give him the cold shoulder for the remainder of his time spent in Jason's bedroom.
Dick sighed, leaning back in the chair. A small part of him wanted to leave, give Jason the solitude he was probably craving right about now, but the rest of him wasn't about to be gotten rid of that easily. "Alfred said you had nightmares…" He stopped briefly, waiting for Jason's reaction. "I get if you don't want to talk about them," he hurried on, "but I get them too. You've already figured out that you can go to Alfred, but… I just want you to know that you can talk to me too."
There was a moment of silence.
Finally, when Dick was sure Jason wasn't going to acknowledge his presence again, "Dick?"
Dick's eyes snapped up to Jason's face. "Yeah?"
"You… you had nightmares too?"
They were falling…
Dick shut his eyes against the image that tried to force its way to the forefront of his mind.
"Yeah," he answered honestly. "You too, huh?"
Jason nodded. "Do they… do they ever go away?" he asked softly.
They never did, he realized, if he were being honest with himself.
"No, not really," he answered, "but it's not always as bad."
There was a long pause as Jason took that in.
"I didn't dream about them," Jason said finally. His voice was so quiet that Dick had trouble hearing him.
"What?" Dick asked, confused.
"My parents," Jason clarified. "I… I don't dream about them." There was an uncomfortable silence as Dick wondered what he was supposed to say to that and Jason seemed to wonder if he had said the wrong thing.
Dick swallowed, not sure if he should press for more information.
He made his decision.
"The… streets?"
Jason was quiet for a long moment, before nodding slowly.
Something constricted painfully in Dick's chest at that.
"You don't want to talk about it… do you?" It wasn't really a question. Somehow, Dick already knew what the answer would be.
Sure enough, Jason shook his head, withdrawing further under his covers.
Then, "Do you think Bruce still gets them? About his parents?"
"I… don't know," he said, speaking slowly. "He's never said." It was weird to think of Bruce, of the Batman, having nightmares, or even being afraid. "I don't think he'd want to talk about it, but…" Dick shared a glance with Jason.
Jason sat up suddenly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Think he goes to Alfred when he wakes up?"
Dick couldn't help but smile along with him. "Probably." Actually, he found himself snickering at the idea. "He probably has cookies and milk once a month at least."
"We should try to catch him someday."
Dick laughed outright at that. "Yeah, you know what? We totally should."
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A/N So I have since discovered that this theme has (not surprisingly) been done before, but I was attached to this chapter and didn't want to change/get rid of it, and I sincerely hope that your enjoyment of this chapter was not lessened in any way.
And while the past two updates have had more of a darker theme, the next few will be happier, more humorous. At the very least, that was what I was going for.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think! Reviews are always appreciated!